You wade almost back up to your waist in the smooth latex, but then stop. Your limbs are suddenly feeling very weak. No, weakness isn't the right word. They feel loose. Soft. Unsupportive. You turn and walk back up the stairs, but the drag of the latex increases. You fall to your hands and knees, though your feet are the only things left in the latex you still must pull with all your strength to free them.
Your feet finally wrench free and you scramble away from the pool. Your hands and feet are coated with even more latex now. It's incredibly thick and still wet. It doesn't drip, however. It only moves around on your limbs. You try to stand, but as you do your feet are crushed. You topple over and roll onto your back, lifting your hands and feet in the air so as not to deform them any further.
You gasp as you watch your fingers melt together. Your pinky is now inseparable from your ring finger, no matter how hard you try to separate them. Your index fuses with your middle finger. Your thumb is far enough away from the others as to not be affected, but all of your fingers have so much latex on them they now are perhaps twice as thick as before.
Your hands seem to be hardening up, and you touch them together to test them. They don't deform, and they don't stick together. They appear to be safe.
Your legs are hardening as well, but major changes have occurred. They now resemble the hind legs of an animal, a horse or perhaps a larger animal. They end in what are unmistakably hooves, rock solid and as black and shiny as the rest of the latex. You tentatively stand on the thick, powerful hind legs and feel a tugging in your rear end. You crane your neck to see some black latex dripping down your butt, but instead of detaching and falling to the tile floor in drips, it continues to extend in one long strand, eventually stopping less than a foot from the floor and gathering at the end to form a latex tail and cuff. It hangs like dead weight off your back. You search for muscles that might control it, but you fail to move the tail.
Your fingers, however, are easily controlled and you can feel with them as if they were naturally supposed to be made of latex. Unfortunately you only have three fingers per hand, including thumbs, and they are all so thick you're sure the finer, more delicate handwork you may face in the future will be difficult. Just reclasping your bra is probably impossible.
Regarding your shed clothing, you decide to leave it behind. Your skirt cannot fit your larger waist now, and though the shirt can still fit, the latex is offering a warmth and comfort that removes the need for it. You consider the option to return again to the pool and spread some latex over your bare breasts, but you don't wish to see how the latex could change you further, and you also don't expect to run into anyone in this large deserted mansion.
With that decision made, you head toward the exit, hearing your clopping hooves echo off the room's grand walls.