“You sure you’re alright, Judy? It’s been three days since the accident and you haven’t left the lab.”
Judy rolled her eyes at the concerned voice from the speakerphone as she concentrated on the microscope. What had once been her elbow was coiled around the focus knob as her fingers typed on a keyboard half a desk over. “Of course I haven’t, um, left the lab, Mom. I, uh, um, want to find a cure to my condition right awa-away.”
The voice paused. “If you’re sure that’s the best course of action…”
“It is! I need to--ah!--figure out if becoming partially latex like this is going to, going to--um--get worse. So far my organic processes haven’t stopped, but there’s no--uh--telling when or if that might change.”
“You’re the geneticist, dear. Just remember to call your father. He’s very worried about you.”
“I’ll try to--uh--to--uh--to give Mars station a call when the satellites align, okay?”
Her mother wished her luck and hung up. Judy retracted her arm and set a reminder for a few hours from now, then turned her attention to other things. She had set her other arm under a 200kg weight, as another test of her body. Even with her limb flattened, there was only a feeling of pressure, not pain--as if it were numbed by Novocaine. There was not even a sign of injury, her arm returned to normal the moment it was no longer compressed.
Just then, a spike of pleasure hit her and for a moment she went rigid, her rubbery upper body dropping to the floor. She lay there on the floor, limp, as the second orgasm of the night gripped her. That seemed to confirm that she still had full sensation in her vagina and not just an awareness of pressure. Another spike hit and she bit her lip as she moaned, the flesh stretching slightly from the air pressure.
Finally, all of her relaxed as her testing implement switched off. Once released, her bottom lip inflated as something akin to rubber filled the empty space. She ran her tongue over the stretched flesh and shuddered as tortured nerves fired into the pleasure center of her brain. That reaction had not been numbed by her transformation in the slightest--if anything, she felt pleasure even more keenly than ever before.
Pulling back to her lower half, she returned to human proportions for the first time in several hours. The piston that had been pumping her with a moderately large dildo was fully retracted. The black rubber dripped with her glit. She undid the straps that held her in a kneeling position and collapsed from exhaustion. Everything from her waist down burned like she had been running for hours. It seemed that being stretched did eventually take a toll on her body.
As she lay there, she tried to figure out what to do next. What she said to her mother was to give the woman a sense of hope, because there was no cure she could procure with current technology. She was going to be like this for the foreseeable future. “It could be worse, I suppose. I could have been turned to ice or metal. Rubber is at least organic, not that my survival jives with any known laws of science.”(532)