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Images made using AI

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“Ow! Get these things off me!” Samantha had always known about the risks of being a corporate spy, but this was far beyond what she expected!

Her mission was simple: use the cover of night to sneak into a rival manufacturer of inflatables. Inside, she would learn their methods of obtaining a surplus of high-quality rubber material, then retrieve the information back to her workplace for the hefty reward of a promotion! Making her way into the production plant, Samantha was hoisted to the air by mechanical grapplers. The spy gasped, she was sure she had neutralized every security system, so how could this be?

What had captured her, however, was not security protocols, but the automated factory detecting the foreign agent as a possible material source—a fact made frighteningly apparent to Samantha as she was carried off to a manufacturing unit. Sterile light blinded her eyes, which were then forced closed by a spray of liquid. The shower doused her in no time; a strange chemical burned her skin into soft, stretchy tissue. Numbing pin pricks littered the woman’s limbs as the liquid seeped into her pores. Coming in contact with her natural oils, they fizzed into thick gas that poured down her throat.

“T-That tickles! Y-You better stop before I, like… Do something…” With each lungful of fumes, the spy’s eyes fluttered more and more. The sharp, slick contours of the factory became blurred, while her brain pulsed as if constricted by her skull. With barely opened eyes, Samantha saw light fill a screen. In it was displayed a simple diagram, one of carbon elements undergoing a simple reaction to be reborn as silicon. Even in her drugged state, Samantha’s sharp mind gathered the meaning. She had finally found out the origins of her competitor’s rubber supply, they simply converted it out of other matter, whether that be wood, stone—or in the right, twisted circumstances—people.

Panic refueled the woman’s struggles, but it was too late. Beeps and humming tauntingly surrounded Sam, all accentuated by the torturous sting of a dozen needles stabbing her arteries. A transformative agent ran down her bloodstream, paralyzing first her limbs to scrap whatever autonomy remained, then her torso, then her head…

With another electric hum, rough scratching assaulted Sam’s toes. Her eyes rolled into her sockets as she felt her entire feet being torn away by force. Right below her hanging body, a conveyor belt had been set to run at maximum speed. Its surface was like the raspiest sandpaper, the perfect texture to grind down anything fed to it. When Samantha’s shoes pushed onto the belt, their hard leather was broken down by friction into a sticky dough the same color as their owner’s hair. With the luxury clothing demolished, the rest of the woman’s body stood no chance as she was gradually lowered into the grinder.

Muscle, blood and bone unified into a single substance lapped around itself on the conveyor. When Sam’s crotch was scraped into slime, neither her jaw nor throat had the strength to vocalize the disturbing ecstasy pecking away at her sanity. When her breasts felt violently fondled, Sam darted her eyes down; the resulting sight had her wishing to hurl. Though she looked only like a vivisected torso, she still felt the streak of slime below as her own self. Her soles, shins, calves and thighs were all distinctly present to her even as they were wrapped around themselves a dozen times by the conveyor.

When only her head and arms remained, Sam uttered a final, gurgled scream before she was pulverized like planks through a wood chipper. When her head vanished, her hands dropped limp and were instantly pulped. Now a clumped sheet of latex, pulleys and gears transported Sam through the factory’s innards. At the cramped darkness inside the walls, several dozen times she was stretched thin then smashed inwards, torn to shreds then pieced together, over and over groped and molded to the degree even taffy couldn't withstand.

What was at first searing burns and tingles slowly numbed as her body was refined into a uniform sheet. She could no longer tell apart hands, breasts, ears or lips; everything now mixed into a singular matter the former-woman struggled to even recognize as herself. Greedy lips clamped up to several spots of her body, all beginning to suck at once, splitting Sam into three rows of twelve nozzles each inside the upper portion of a production machine. With her being split once again, the sentient latex sunk deeper into delirium, imagining herself in a fuzzy, bubbly haven difficult to comprehend.

With rhythmic pumping, each cylinder squirted a stream of jelly like a satisfied udder, splatting chunks of Sam’s being onto the machine’s lower half–a cold, metallic base--until an inch of material had gathered. Cold turned to heat; the rubber matt was quickly brought to a bubbling boil. The molten woman winced, having every single one of her body parts represented by a small section of the simmering mat. Yet even as it bubbled, it did not hurt, feeling more as if she was dipped into a steaming sauna, one that grew more intense with the buildup of something grand. For a brief second, she realized in shame that this was the most relaxed she had ever been in the relentless rat race of her career.

Finally, all the built-up tension was released with a flurry of air. It concentrated inside of the rubber, hollowing out its interior to solidify it as the ultra-resistant shell of an inflatable mattress comfy enough to sleep on. Sam gasped, heavenly relief concentrating on small spots all over her body. Dreamily, she begged for the same feeling to wash over the rest of her. Fortunately for her, the vast majority of her body still lay as prime material inside of the nozzles.

Charging up with energy, the nozzles rapidly fired five blobs into the mattress–four in each corner, then two larger ones in the center. Sam’s brain (whatever constituted as it) rattled greater than any slime ever did, the experience as nauseating as dropping from a roller coaster. When she reached the sudden stop of the ride, every drop of the slime vibrated. As she came to a stop, a new clarity settled on her body. No more was she a malformed shape lacking in form, now her senses reorganized to fit what was being built from her.

As her body simmered and hollowed out with inflating air, the senses became even clearer, starting with her torso. While Samantha was noted for her thin, athletic build, that wasn't always the case for her. She had once been a chubby child, one who always had pop along lunches and whose belly poked from under t-shirts. Once she became self-conscious and got into shape, the memories of being a portly piggy pushed back into the woman’s subconscious. However, they all flooded back as her center-piece bloated beyond control. By the time it settled into a final size, there was no bust, abdomen or waist to be recognized. It was all one singular ball, an incredible cuddy one.

Next in line were her hands and feet, only Sam could not confidently call them that anymore. In place of agile, manipulative hands and sturdy feet built for long distances, her new appendages were four identical spheres whose only use would be to look cute. Wracking her head for a comparison, the word “paws” frighteningly took center-stage in the former-woman’s mind.

Whenever the limbs and torso touched, heat was created more intense than a pot of frying oil; the sound, too, was comparable. After brief, stinging pain, all five masses were fused together with seams. Like a child after a doctor’s shot, she reeled in afterpain, but soon found her body feeling better than before.

Afterwards, Sam’s head filled with air in all senses of the phrase. The more her head shaped up, the emptier it became, filling her mind with bubbly fizz that forced away any silly worries. Sam found herself once again in a haven, but rather than the chaotic overdrive of before, an inner peace welled up in her very soul. It was like she had found life’s meaning. Not rising through a corporation while crushing the competition, but instead lazing around all day while looking cute and squishy for everyone around. Just the thought of someone patting her bouncy body had Sam moaning, though she quickly shifted to purring–it felt much more natural.

With a final squirt of the machine, two dollops fell atop the head which rose into pointy peaks. The vinyl toy didn't even mind the burning seaming of these ears, nor the stitching of her neck to the rest of her. Even with a clear head on her shoulders, much was still unclear to Sam. Her new body was familiar, yet so incredibly foreign. Rather than be terrified at these new implications, excitement filled her silicon body. Sure, everything was strange, but also new and refreshing!

She could not look behind at her body, but she suspected it to be strikingly similar to the furry companion she once kept at her apartment. What the vinyl toy could see, however, were two spray canisters hoisted to her eye level. They doused her body in a refreshing coat of gloss, before painting on a set of whiskers and beady eyes–the adorable finishing touches to the brand-new toy, one that would be packaged the next work day, and be the first in a long line of well-selling inflatable kittens.

Description

If you enjoyed this story, consider supporting me on Patreon: www.patreon.com/Dobole

Images made using AI

Caption text:

“Ow! Get these things off me!” Samantha had always known about the risks of being a corporate spy, but this was far beyond what she expected!

Her mission was simple: use the cover of night to sneak into a rival manufacturer of inflatables. Inside, she would learn their methods of obtaining a surplus of high-quality rubber material, then retrieve the information back to her workplace for the hefty reward of a promotion! Making her way into the production plant, Samantha was hoisted to the air by mechanical grapplers. The spy gasped, she was sure she had neutralized every security system, so how could this be?

What had captured her, however, was not security protocols, but the automated factory detecting the foreign agent as a possible material source—a fact made frighteningly apparent to Samantha as she was carried off to a manufacturing unit. Sterile light blinded her eyes, which were then forced closed by a spray of liquid. The shower doused her in no time; a strange chemical burned her skin into soft, stretchy tissue. Numbing pin pricks littered the woman’s limbs as the liquid seeped into her pores. Coming in contact with her natural oils, they fizzed into thick gas that poured down her throat.

“T-That tickles! Y-You better stop before I, like… Do something…” With each lungful of fumes, the spy’s eyes fluttered more and more. The sharp, slick contours of the factory became blurred, while her brain pulsed as if constricted by her skull. With barely opened eyes, Samantha saw light fill a screen. In it was displayed a simple diagram, one of carbon elements undergoing a simple reaction to be reborn as silicon. Even in her drugged state, Samantha’s sharp mind gathered the meaning. She had finally found out the origins of her competitor’s rubber supply, they simply converted it out of other matter, whether that be wood, stone—or in the right, twisted circumstances—people.

Panic refueled the woman’s struggles, but it was too late. Beeps and humming tauntingly surrounded Sam, all accentuated by the torturous sting of a dozen needles stabbing her arteries. A transformative agent ran down her bloodstream, paralyzing first her limbs to scrap whatever autonomy remained, then her torso, then her head…

With another electric hum, rough scratching assaulted Sam’s toes. Her eyes rolled into her sockets as she felt her entire feet being torn away by force. Right below her hanging body, a conveyor belt had been set to run at maximum speed. Its surface was like the raspiest sandpaper, the perfect texture to grind down anything fed to it. When Samantha’s shoes pushed onto the belt, their hard leather was broken down by friction into a sticky dough the same color as their owner’s hair. With the luxury clothing demolished, the rest of the woman’s body stood no chance as she was gradually lowered into the grinder.

Muscle, blood and bone unified into a single substance lapped around itself on the conveyor. When Sam’s crotch was scraped into slime, neither her jaw nor throat had the strength to vocalize the disturbing ecstasy pecking away at her sanity. When her breasts felt violently fondled, Sam darted her eyes down; the resulting sight had her wishing to hurl. Though she looked only like a vivisected torso, she still felt the streak of slime below as her own self. Her soles, shins, calves and thighs were all distinctly present to her even as they were wrapped around themselves a dozen times by the conveyor.

When only her head and arms remained, Sam uttered a final, gurgled scream before she was pulverized like planks through a wood chipper. When her head vanished, her hands dropped limp and were instantly pulped. Now a clumped sheet of latex, pulleys and gears transported Sam through the factory’s innards. At the cramped darkness inside the walls, several dozen times she was stretched thin then smashed inwards, torn to shreds then pieced together, over and over groped and molded to the degree even taffy couldn't withstand.

What was at first searing burns and tingles slowly numbed as her body was refined into a uniform sheet. She could no longer tell apart hands, breasts, ears or lips; everything now mixed into a singular matter the former-woman struggled to even recognize as herself. Greedy lips clamped up to several spots of her body, all beginning to suck at once, splitting Sam into three rows of twelve nozzles each inside the upper portion of a production machine. With her being split once again, the sentient latex sunk deeper into delirium, imagining herself in a fuzzy, bubbly haven difficult to comprehend.

With rhythmic pumping, each cylinder squirted a stream of jelly like a satisfied udder, splatting chunks of Sam’s being onto the machine’s lower half–a cold, metallic base--until an inch of material had gathered. Cold turned to heat; the rubber matt was quickly brought to a bubbling boil. The molten woman winced, having every single one of her body parts represented by a small section of the simmering mat. Yet even as it bubbled, it did not hurt, feeling more as if she was dipped into a steaming sauna, one that grew more intense with the buildup of something grand. For a brief second, she realized in shame that this was the most relaxed she had ever been in the relentless rat race of her career.

Finally, all the built-up tension was released with a flurry of air. It concentrated inside of the rubber, hollowing out its interior to solidify it as the ultra-resistant shell of an inflatable mattress comfy enough to sleep on. Sam gasped, heavenly relief concentrating on small spots all over her body. Dreamily, she begged for the same feeling to wash over the rest of her. Fortunately for her, the vast majority of her body still lay as prime material inside of the nozzles.

Charging up with energy, the nozzles rapidly fired five blobs into the mattress–four in each corner, then two larger ones in the center. Sam’s brain (whatever constituted as it) rattled greater than any slime ever did, the experience as nauseating as dropping from a roller coaster. When she reached the sudden stop of the ride, every drop of the slime vibrated. As she came to a stop, a new clarity settled on her body. No more was she a malformed shape lacking in form, now her senses reorganized to fit what was being built from her.

As her body simmered and hollowed out with inflating air, the senses became even clearer, starting with her torso. While Samantha was noted for her thin, athletic build, that wasn't always the case for her. She had once been a chubby child, one who always had pop along lunches and whose belly poked from under t-shirts. Once she became self-conscious and got into shape, the memories of being a portly piggy pushed back into the woman’s subconscious. However, they all flooded back as her center-piece bloated beyond control. By the time it settled into a final size, there was no bust, abdomen or waist to be recognized. It was all one singular ball, an incredible cuddy one.

Next in line were her hands and feet, only Sam could not confidently call them that anymore. In place of agile, manipulative hands and sturdy feet built for long distances, her new appendages were four identical spheres whose only use would be to look cute. Wracking her head for a comparison, the word “paws” frighteningly took center-stage in the former-woman’s mind.

Whenever the limbs and torso touched, heat was created more intense than a pot of frying oil; the sound, too, was comparable. After brief, stinging pain, all five masses were fused together with seams. Like a child after a doctor’s shot, she reeled in afterpain, but soon found her body feeling better than before.

Afterwards, Sam’s head filled with air in all senses of the phrase. The more her head shaped up, the emptier it became, filling her mind with bubbly fizz that forced away any silly worries. Sam found herself once again in a haven, but rather than the chaotic overdrive of before, an inner peace welled up in her very soul. It was like she had found life’s meaning. Not rising through a corporation while crushing the competition, but instead lazing around all day while looking cute and squishy for everyone around. Just the thought of someone patting her bouncy body had Sam moaning, though she quickly shifted to purring–it felt much more natural.

With a final squirt of the machine, two dollops fell atop the head which rose into pointy peaks. The vinyl toy didn't even mind the burning seaming of these ears, nor the stitching of her neck to the rest of her. Even with a clear head on her shoulders, much was still unclear to Sam. Her new body was familiar, yet so incredibly foreign. Rather than be terrified at these new implications, excitement filled her silicon body. Sure, everything was strange, but also new and refreshing!

She could not look behind at her body, but she suspected it to be strikingly similar to the furry companion she once kept at her apartment. What the vinyl toy could see, however, were two spray canisters hoisted to her eye level. They doused her body in a refreshing coat of gloss, before painting on a set of whiskers and beady eyes–the adorable finishing touches to the brand-new toy, one that would be packaged the next work day, and be the first in a long line of well-selling inflatable kittens.