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Happiness Is A Warm Pouch
Vince didn’t know what to make of it. Sitting on his nightstand was a small figure of a kangaroo, looking to be cast from a glossy black plastic with some dots of silver glitter suspended in it.
He had not remembered it being there yesterday, or even having bought or acquired such a trinket. It wasn’t his kind of thing; even as it stood there it clashed with the rock band posters that wallpapered his room.
He took the kangaroo and held it in his hands. It was quite well-made, with lots of little details sculpted in. Fur sculpted to flow in a consistent direction, a gentle face, the outline of a pouch.
He turned it over in his hands; the rubbery material was cool and smooth to the touch, with a nice hefty weight to it. What struck him as curious was that there were no manufacturing markings or anything to identify it by. It didn’t even have the seam most of these plastic statuettes had from when they were pulled from the mold.
He had no use for it, no sentimental attachment, but something kept him from deciding to throw the thing out. In its sculpted, unpainted eyes he perceived maternal warmth.
He let out a small chuckle, barely audible even to himself and went over to his closet. He set it on a cardboard box full of old comic books and took his tan fatigue jacket.
As he threw the jacket on, he turned to look at the digital clock on the wall, its white frame having long since faded to a bone yellow. In ten minutes, Jessie would be waiting for him.
He arrived at her flat and checked his watch; two minutes early. He silently congratulated himself and knocked on the door with a firm hand. Not even a second later, it opened to reveal a lithe, boyish young woman with sand-colored hair. She was wearing a small red dress that emphasized her modest hips very well.
“Hi Vince! You got here early.”
“Sure did. “ He said, still proud of himself for that and it showed in his voice.
“I’m ready if you are. When’s the movie starting?” She said, looking at Vince with her bottle green eyes.
“It… shit. I forgot.” Vince’s thoughts returned to the kangaroo.
“It’s okay. We’ll just waste time in the food court if we’re too early.” Jessie said, giving him a pearly smile.
“I don’t get it…” Jessie said as they strolled out of the cinema. “ If he doesn’t remember anything his alter-ego does, why does he spend the movie trying to stop it?”
Vince shrugged. “Didn’t he find out?”
“He did, but he knew about it since the beginning, at least that’s what I got out of it.”
They got in his car; Jessie brushed the back of his neck.
“Let’s go to your place.” She said. Vince cracked a little smile as he pulled out of the parking lot.
The first few minutes of the drive were quiet, so he had the radio on a local station.
An 80’s power ballad about love was crooning along when Jessie finally spoke.
“How’s your mom doing?”
“She’s alright. She asks about you a lot.” Vince said.
“Oh?” Jessie’s eyebrows arched.
“It’s kind of weird, she asks what you’re like. She wants to get to know you more and…”
“She sometimes asks if you and I are planning on getting married.”
“It’s just her. I tell her we haven’t been seeing each other that long but she thinks it’s an excuse”
“She’s crazy” Jessie said, her eyes turning back to the road.
Vince didn’t say anything.
When they finally reached Vince’s place, they got out of the car. Jessie kept close to him.
They stopped and faced each other in the waning glare of a street light.
Their eyes met. Their faces closed in. He could feel her breath warm on his face.
They kissed. He ran a hand through her smooth hair and drank in every sensory detail of the moment.
They pulled away and went through the door hand in hand.
He took off his jacket and went for his room.
“I’m going to take a shower.” Jessie said as she entered the modest bathroom of the flat. Vince pulled open the door to his room and was immediately greeted with an unfamiliar smell.
It smelt like rubber, the high quality kind, and there was an ever so slight hint of dark chocolate about it; and it was coming from his closet. His nose wrinkled, he yanked the closet door open to find that there was a huge, quivering mass of black oily gunge where the kangaroo used to be; with a long stream of the stuff going down from the cardboard box into a puddle on the floor. The chocolate latex smell was now overpowering, stinging his nostrils. He let out a reflexive grunt of disgust.
“Vince? Something wrong?” Jessie called from in the bathroom.
“Nothing… Something just spilled in here while we were out. Gimme a moment.” he yelled back.
He turned away from the mess and took in a deep breath; he pulled the door open wider and leaned in, where he noticed that the material had somehow migrated upwards, irreparably staining five of his best shirts. He cursed under his breath and reached for the slick, shiny goop.
It was cool to the touch, but not unpleasantly so. He pulled back a little to find that it had the consistency of chewed gum, except quite a bit more elastic. The light hit the stuff and reflected off the slivers of glitter dispersed among the fluid.
“Did it melt?” He muttered under his breath; just now becoming aware of the shower running down the hall.
As soon as the thought to get a towel to mop it up entered his mind, the black stuff pounced on him. He opened his mouth to scream but the latex leapt into his mouth and down his throat. The smell and the taste of oily, factory-made latex assaulted his palate. When he tried to spit it out, it ran further down into him, he pulled at the strands of gooey semi-solid latex that were slithering their way all over his body and under his clothes but it ended up spreading the more he struggled. It tingled where he touched his skin and to his great shame the sensation was not entirely unpleasurable.
The latex pooled in the soles of his shoes and liquefied them, with more of the tar-black slurry oozing out of the shapeless, dripping mass that covered his feet. His trousers were already near-totally dissolved by the gunk but he didn’t notice; he was only aware of an intense aching in every joint of his legs, like a spread out toothache. He watched through strained, teary eyes as his feet pulled themselves out longer, longer than before and his toes forcing themselves together into three larger digits. The aching climaxed into a sharp, shredding pain as long, black claws erupted out of the end of his new toes.
The aching subsided into a series of dull pressures as his legs bunched up entirely without his conscious effort. They drew in shorter, bunching up thick and then stretching out a little bit more; and this happened over and over until his legs were reshaped according to whatever plan the stuff had for him. By then, the rubber had worked its way to his hips and pushed them out to a greater width; what once were the boxy hips of a man became ample curves. He struggled to his new feet, fumbling a little and when he stood he felt a sharp pop in his joints that forced him in a bent-forward position.
The base of his spine started pulling itself away, more and more from his body; with the repetitive pop pop pop of vertebrae restructuring themselves ringing in his ears. When it ended, he was now well aware of a long, heavy protrusion starting at the bottom of his spine, just above his rump and ending at the floor.
He hesitantly gazed over his shoulder at the mirror.
His entire body below the waist was completely transformed. His legs were thicker, more compact, and more muscular; and he had a thick tail that tapered down like a kangaroo’s…
His thoughts were interrupted with what felt like a swift punch in the crotch. He fell forward and dry heaved as his genitalia retracted and pushed back up into his body, inverting itself, sculpting itself into a feminine depth.
There was a warm throbbing in his abdomen as something spread out and pushed against his insides; followed by a feeling that he dearly hoped was not pleasure. The latex had worked its way up to his belly, where it went about the business of sculpting the outline of a pouch.
A pouch… the thought of it nearly made him faint. He wasn’t just becoming a kangaroo. The slime reached his chest and the area under his nipples started to feel very warm… almost like sunburn. He put his hands on his chest just in time for a pair of modestly large breasts to balloon out from under his hands. He gave them a curious squeeze and a rush of feeling surged up inside him.
The slime took his arms next. A cocktail of fear and excitement soaked his brain as he saw the latex slither from his shoulders to his fingers. The way the shiny material flowed so smooth and thick reminded him of chocolate bar ads. He flexed as the muscles in his arms grew and reformed themselves; He was always a wiry guy but now the rubber skin had turned his little bony arms into sculpted, powerful, yet still quite feminine limbs. He stood there with bated breath as the latex went to work on his hands; smoothing them out, melding the pinky and ring fingers together. He didn’t even feel the bones and underlying tissue shift because the rubber had total control of his nerves at that point. He felt tingling pinpricks all throughout his body, an odd gray area between numbness and sensory overload.
It was too much… Entirely too much. He closed his eyes as he felt his face push outwards into a muzzle. His ears popped as they migrated up and stretched out. The latex finished filling his insides. He moaned as the material spread farther, wider through him. It was like that warm feeling one gets after a bowl of hot soup but all over.
He could hear soft voices in his head…giving him ideas: warm, happy, ideas. He felt a compulsion to love others, to nurture, to produce more of him…herself.
What was happening? She was a woman; no she was a woman… No, no this wasn’t right… what was she? The voices whispered words of comfort to her, lulling her deeper into this altered mind-state. Old memories dimmed and blinked out of his consciousness like candles burning out.
Victor.. no Victoria. No, no, no he had to fight it. She was Victoria. Not Vince, it was a silly name for a lady. But… she wasn’t… but she was, she was and she was only ever so dimly aware that…
She opened her eyes and examined herself in the mirror. She was a six foot tall latex kangaroo, with cute little flecks of silver all throughout her black hide that made her sparkle like a night sky. Her pudgy waist flowed down into a bulky, perfectly muscled pair of legs with a big, firm butt.
Her tail swished back and forth happily as she examined herself. It was like a drug, she felt deep down that she shouldn’t be pleased but she cared not. She took her ear and stretched it out, tittering playfully as it snapped back into shape when she let go.
She raised one leg and wiggled her toes, they were so cute and round.
Then there was a shout.
Victoria turned and saw Jessie, still wet, with a towel thrown around her.
“What the…!?” Jessie spat but couldn’t process enough of what she was looking at to complete her thought.
Victoria cocked her head to the side like a confused puppy.
“Dear… are you alright? You’re sopping wet!” Her voice was like velvet.
“What are… where is Vince?” Jessie took one step back, the door felt a mile away at that moment.
“Oh dear, don’t worry about him. Now let’s get you nice and dry.”
Jessie made a move for the door but the rubber kangaroo was already upon her.
She struggled to break free but the creature’s grip was like iron in a soft glove. Where the thing’s skin met hers melted and began trickling down her body, the moisture acted as a catalyst, spreading farther and faster.
Jessie heard herself yelling but nobody came, the creature put its paw over her mouth.
“Hush now… let mama take good care of you."
“Mama?!” Jessie said. And then she felt herself being shoved into the thing’s pouch.
The pouch stretched to just big enough to keep her in fetal position; she kicked and thrashed and pulled to escape but the inside was both slick as oil and thick as tar, too slippery to gain traction, too sticky to break free.
Every time she moved, the kangaroo anticipated it and clinched the pouch tight around her.
“Oh come now, sweetie. Don’t fuss. You’re just tired is all.” Victoria said.
there was something hypnotic about her voice. Jessie’s mad thrashing subsided into a pitiful wiggle. She couldn’t breathe, let alone yell or fight back. Her limbs felt heavy… She was completely covered with the slime and it was squirming down into her mouth. Her body simply refused to move anymore.
She was so very sleepy.
She lost consciousness.
She awoke in the pouch, feeling weaker yet also refreshed. She kicked her legs, they felt bigger, clumsier. Her tail was curled upwards. With some effort, she climbed up and stuck her head out of her mother’s pouch. She cast her purple eyes up at her mother. Victoria was seated on the bed reading a paperback.
“Now don’t you feel better, Jessica, now that you had your nap?” She said to her.
This wasn’t right, but she was only dimly aware of it, she tried to speak but all that came out was wordless chatter.
“You’re such a good girl, you didn’t cry at all last night.” Victoria cooed at her some more as she gazed into those big, purple eyes. She felt so afraid, and yet completely safe. The image of Victoria imprinted itself on her psyche, this was mother. A tiny spark of resistance glowed in her chest, she looked to the mirror.
She was a joey, a little rubber kangaroo, looking just like mama. She raised a stubby arm toward her mother’s chest, trying to get leverage to push off of her and make a break for the door, but Victoria took her and held her close.
“Hungry, little one?”
Jessica’s belly grumbled.
“It’s okay, open wide now.”
Victoria nudged the joey’s head towards her bosom. The smell of milk and chocolate tantalized her; she relaxed herself in her mother’s arms as she nursed.
“I’ll never let you go, little one.” Victoria whispered into her ear.
“Never going to let you go.”