NokiMo
Tutty The Fruity
Tutty The Fruity

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Comm: Plastic Parent (Part 2)

Summary: A single mother is gearing up to reclaim her life, but developing shapeshifting abilities and becoming a superhero was not what she had in mind. Commissioned by super kaktus

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If Monica ignored the problem, surely it would go away on its own. She decided that going to bed would be the best idea. She had to be hallucinating. People didn't turn into putty from going to a spa. She would wake up the next morning, and she'd be okay. Maybe better than okay! 

She denied her condition fervently, a dead-eyed look as she staggered to her bed. She slipped under the covers, careful not to rub any part of her body with any other, and pulled the covers up to her chest. She grimaced, noticing the sheets tented more with her more... pronounced buxom. 

Monica forcefully closed her eyes tight. She tried to clear her mind of any thoughts, ignoring the feedback her body gave to her. It was exhausting... and it seemed to do the trick.

The phone began to ring in the other room. Monica blinked wearily, before shaking her head, and sinking deeper into the bed. She'd ignore it, just this once. 

...Then it rang again. They were awfully insistent. Monica grunted, turning over and covering her head with her pillow. Probably spam callers from the other side of the globe. The pillow drowned out the third round of rings; after that, whoever was on the other end seemed to give up. If it was a person, surely they could leave a message and wait for tomorrow. 

Monica dozed off, her neurotic brain fog dispelling as she transitioned to a comfortable sleep. Her body sunk under the sheets more and more; she moaned blissfully as her hand grasped for her pillows. Everything felt so soft now. She felt like she was sleeping on a cloud. 

In a deep sleep, Monica's body relaxed more and more. Her body buzzed all over with a pleasant tingling. She almost felt drunk...

BANG BANG BANG! 

But the rattling from the front door downstairs jostled her awake and sobered her up in a hurry. She felt her heart go ba-bump, and expanded rapidly as if trying to jump out of her chest; the sight of her sheet coverings being jostled by the unexpected motion caused Monica's breath to falter. 

Her first instinct was to reach for the phone. If it was a criminal looking to make prey of a sickly single woman, she surely wouldn't be able to fend for herself. But there was a complication...

Clunk! As she stretched for the phone on her bedside table, part of her limb knocked the phone to the floor... or so she thought, until she felt the phone land on some part of her. 

"Huh??" Monica squinted. She was in bed, but the phone fell on her. It was getting dark outside, and the lights were off, but it wasn't yet dark enough to completely obscure her vision. She looked around, and what she found was... disturbing. 

Her legs pushed out from the opposite end of the bed, slipping out of sight. She looked to her sides, finding her arms were also stretched to ridiculous lengths, flanking each side of her bed. She traced the sensations of her limbs, but found no end to them. She stirred, her arms shifting enough for the phone to slip into the seams between her ropey, overstretched arms. 

"W-what's happening to me...??" Monica shut her eyes tight, praying this was all some horrific dream. She felt her limbs' coils tightened anxiously, the sensation of carpet against her soft skin ever more difficult to ignore.

BANG BANG BANG! The door rattled again. 

"Mom?? Are you there?? You didn't answer your phone!"

Monica's eyes shot open, a chill gripping her. It was Danielle! Wasn't she supposed to be on some sort of date? What was she doing here!? And that was her calling her while she was trying to sleep!?

Anxiety gripped her, and her stretched limbs began to flail wildly out of control. She saw her arms and legs lash about the room, slamming into wardrobes and walls, slipping under her bed, coiling around boxes she had stored underneath, and tossing them all around! She wailed as she shot straight up, her torso lengthening rapidly to ride up along the backrest of the best, her disparate limbs twisting and knotting under, over, and around the bed in increasingly long, wriggling lengths of her own limbs. 

"MOM!! ARE YOU HURT!?" The door rattled some more. "I-I GOT THE SPARE KEY, I'M COMING!!"

Monica realized that her panicked screaming had alerted her daughter, which ratcheted her panic and anxiety up another level. Her entire body reverberated with terror, sending a cold shock down her body. 

"Ah-"

Monica felt a pinch in her shoulder blades; unbeknownst to her, two jet black latex tendrils had emerged, and before she knew it, they were wrapping around her body in rapid loops, running up and down the length of her body in weave-like strands. Monica tried to scream, but her mouth was rapidly covered as she was drawn into the rapidly expanding tendrils; even her stretched out limbs were pulled into the depths of the jetblack mass, swelling up like a person-sized ball of yarn.

Blorp. 

Something seemed to shift in her body, a door locking from deep within her. Unbeknown to her, beneath the black latex tendrils, her body was coming together into a uniform substance, the seams between her overstretched limbs melding together.

Her body shuddered and rippled. Monica whimpered as her body twisted about itself, as if her skin itself was folding itself inside out. With each turn of her body, her peachy flesh hue shifted, as if being drained of colour, then of light itself. With each shudder, the spherical blob deflated, until it finally stopped.

Monica felt strange. Her panic before had ebbed away entirely. She couldn't breath, she couldn't see, she felt trapped, as if in some great empty blackness... and yet, she didn't feel scared. She felt as if she was being supported. Cradled. And yet, yearning to be released.

What remained was a formless blobby mass, dark and glossy as black latex, but reduced to a gelatinous consistency. It stirred on its own, forming into a vaguely humanoid shape. Where the head appeared to be, two large eye-shapes dominated the face, almost wrapping to the sides of the head. They shifted slowly, as if floating atop the rest of the body. 

Monica looked to a mirror beside her as she knelt on the bed. Her lower body melted into the consistency of a puddle, and her upper body constantly shifted with alien movement... as if a bubble rose up from underneath her skin, pressed from underneath, and then shuffled away. Her body was in a constant state of flow, beads of inky-black slime shifting down her shoulders. Her hair splayed wildly in all directions like tentacles, floating in place as if she were underwater.

She admired her skin. It was so soft and smooth. There was a creepiness to the whole situation, but also a... sensuous allure to her whole appearance. She stroked her arm, feeling it give slightly to the slightest impression. 

This is so strange... Monica thought to herself. She had tried to remark it aloud, but her voice did not follow. Her visage was without a mouth, she couldn't speak. Yet, this didn't seem to bother her. As she examined her body, pulling back a finger until it peeled back from her body like the skin of a banana, panic and terror seemed so distant and far away. Nothing seemed to matter. Not the pounding of footsteps in the house, or the vibrations of an approaching person to her bedroom door. Not even the sound of the door swinging open.

"Mom, I'm here, I... MOM!?" 

Monica turned her head over 180 degrees to face her daughter. She would've smiled warmly if she could, to see her daughter again, and see her in the lovely state she was in. But the sight of her daughter's terror-stricken expression, and the colour draining from her face, told a different story.

"What are you? Wh- why are you on my mother's bed!?" Danielle stammered.

Danielle, it's me, Monica. Your mother. Don't you recognize me? Monica wanted to say this, but found herself speechless once again. She stared at Danielle with an alien uneasiness. Monica slid off the end of the bed to approach her daughter, her lower body oozing to the floor, while her torso remained oddly level. 

"WAIT! NO! DON'T EAT ME, DON'T..." Danielle's eyes looked feverishly around, until she spotted a spare cane her mother used. She snatched it, and swung it with all her strength. "GET BACK!!"

Monica hardly reacted. Her body shifted on its own, her shoulders and chest splitting from her stomach as the cane swept through her. The cane never actually hit her though; her body rapidly split and reformed in a fluid motion, never breaking into multiple pieces. Danielle gawked with astonishment, and swung again, only to completely miss the alien creature again. Monica stood there silently as Danielle tried thrusting the cane instead like an epee, only to push straight through a rapidly-formed hole in the center of Monica's mass. 

Monica fretted silently as she watched this play out, feeling like a passenger in her own body as it effortlessly shifted to avoid her daughter's strikes. She wished she could communicate with her, to convey some sort of sound. She tried to speak, but her voice was trapped within layers of ebony latex. Her body shuddered...

An idea occurred to her. Sound was the result of vibrations. Perhaps if her body vibrated at such a frequency, one which resonated with her own body, she would perhaps be able to communicate vocally, without a mouth. She tested this, her body vibrating. She felt the vibrations of her trapped voice deep within, tapping into different frequencies...

EEEEEE!!

"Agh!" Danielle winced, an alien sound leaving her ears ringing. She tried a vertical swing aiming for the creature's head... but the head split open down to her chest, and a moment later, Danielle found her cane stuck within Monica's torso.

"LET! GO! YOU! STUPID ALIEN!!" Danielle screamed, with tears in her eyes.

"Vrvrghhrr... Ddghehjfd... D... Daaaaa... -Danielle-."

From a cacophony of noise, Danielle heard her name. She froze up.

"H-how do you know my name??" Danielle blurted. 

"It's me... Monica... your mother." The voice shifted, her body vibrating at a strange frequency, but which was rapidly tuning to the sound of her own mother's voice. 

"Wha?? Mom...??" Danielle did not believe a word of this. This was insane!

Monica felt this disbelief, though her face remained expressionless. She wondered what she could do to assuage Danielle's concerns. She could surely recount her day, but she supposed Danielle regarded her as some alien creature that consumed her. Calmly and rationally, she considered her options.

The best way, she decided, was to show her daughter her true nature. As for how to do that... she recalled the sensation of her body folding in and around itself, expelling a creature resembling her true nature. So what if she did that... but in reverse?

The alien quivered and rippled in front of Daniella, her hair tendrils thrashing. Her limbs receded back into her, along with her head. Before Daniella, a blob-shaped mass wobbled in front of her. A seam materialized down the center, before opening to reveal the familiar image of her mother. The black, latex substance receded back into her body, slipping between her shoulder blades and disappearing out of sight, leaving only Monica's human body behind... a little shaky, but otherwise unharmed. Even her lacy nightgown was still intact... in fact, there weren't any signs of damage.

"O-oh..." Monica covered her forehead. "That was... a lot..."

"MOM!!" Danielle rushed forward to catch her from falling right over. "Wh-what the heck was that? Th-that black stuff, it went... it went inside you!" 

"Yes, I... oogh..." Monica groaned. "Can we sit down? I'll... try to explain in the living room."

"...U-um! Yes. Right!" Danielle didn't fully comprehend a bit of what was going on, but reflexively bridal carried her mom out of the bedroom...

---

Once Monica had caught her breath, she tried to explain the events of the day to Danielle. The spa day, the newfound sense of energy... and now, the latex-clad, shapeshifting alter-ego that seemed to reside within her.

"So... soooo... let me get this straight." Danielle rubbed her palms together anxiously. "You... got rubber superpowers in the span of a day? And you think the mud bath did it to you?"

"I-I can't think of any other reason." Monica shook her head. "The entire mud bath seemed to... merge with me. I thought someone had pulled a prank, or moved me somewhere without my knowing, but now..."

Monica extended her hand upwards, and effortlessly pressed her palm towards the ceiling as her arm stretched to double its length. 

"Wooow..." Danielle gawked. "That's nuts...!"

"I'm sorry I didn't answer the phone." Monica frowned. "I was rather exhausted from anything and... w-wait, did anything happen to you? I thought you were on a date with Randy..."

"Ah, the car broke down." Danielle shrugged. "But never mind that! Mom, you got superpowers now! C'mon, give me your hand!" 

Danielle gestured for her mothers hand. Monica hesitated as she lowered her arm from the ceiling, but acquiesced, handing her daughter her hand.

Danielle took her whole arm, grabbing it at two places and tugging. "How's that feel when I do this?" 

"U-um... strange." Monica murmured. "But not painful. Remember not to be so grabby with me in public, dear."

"I mean, yeah, definitely not in public. But in the safety of your own home, it's fine!" Danielle nodded. "We have to figure this stuff out, Ma."

"Wouldn't it be better to see a doctor about this?" Monica tilted her head. "Or perhaps a lawyer? If this condition is... irreversible somehow..."

"A doctor?? No way!" Danielle glanced up, squeezing her mother's arm tight. "They'd probably send you to some remote lab, for all sorts of science experiments! Genuine superpowers don't just happen, mom!"

"O-oh... I... I didn't think of that." Monica trembled slightly. "I wouldn't want to be separated from you... a-and to be honest, this whole ordeal is... quite frightening..."

Monica's voice creaked with emotion as her lip quivered. Danielle was so important to her, and they had come so far together through her sickness. And just at the end of the proverbial tunnel, they could be separated yet again. 

"...!"

Monica gasped as something strange unlocked inside of her yet again. 

She felt a pinch in her upper back again, before the sensation of being caressed by latex tendrils came over her once again. They seemed to grow as they wrapped all around her. She could feel her extremities pulling into her core. 

"This feeling again..." Monica murmured, before disappearing under loops of the alien tendrils. 

"MOM!?" Danielle crawled forward, trying to tug at the looping limbs around her mother's bound body but it was no use; they were tight like steel. Danielle watched in horror as her mother's body shook in place, wet schlick sounds coupling with her every movement.

Then, she stopped. Her body rigidity smoothed out into a spherical blob, and her skin inverted itself into the same black, latex-like goo from before, like an absorbent sponge being squeezed of liquid. Black ooze trickled down to the floor as, in a matter of moments, the strangely alien humanoid shape reemerged. 

"M... mom...?" Danielle leaned closer. "That's really you, yes?"

"I don't know..." Monica extended her hand. "What do you think?"

Danielle looked at her mother's hand. It was petite and lithe, the facsimile of her mother. As she took her hand, she felt her hand tenderly clasp back, and squeeze gently. It was her mother's hand... though softer than ever, once that seemed to yield to even her daughter's residual body heat.

"Heh... heheh~"  Danielle lost herself in the gentle reverberations of her mother's semi-liquid body. The way it moved on its own and rippled inspired her. She followed the length of the arm back to her mother, and dipped her hands into her sides.

"Danielle...?" Monica wondered. 

"You're like wet clay, Mom." Danielle chuckled. "So weird, it's like... rubber clay. It's so... fun to touch, and squeeze, and stretch." 

Monica stared silently at Danielle as her hands tucked into her taut stomach. She stretched her belly-button over her head and folded it over her, then pressed her mother down into a pile of latex sludge. Even with her "eyes" buried under a thin layer of slime, Monica could still sense and perceive her daughter, as she repeatedly stretched and folded her over and over. 

"This is just to, ah, test the limits of my abilities, yes?" Her mother wondered, perhaps a little sarcastically.

"This doesn't hurt?" Danielle tilted her head.

"No, it's... nice." Monica responded. "Please, keep going." 

Danielle rose to her feet, grabbing a huge wad of her mother's biomass in two hands. She stepped back through the kitchen, wrapped around to the entryway, through to the bedroom, and back to her sofa. She stretched her mother a full lap around the house, stretching her all around... but she didn't break.

"Wow... you can stretch so far. I didn't pick up a bit of resistance..." Danielle murmured. 

"I feel like my small home isn't the best place to... experiment with this body." Monica replied. 

"Yeah... and my place isn't any bigger." Danielle mused, wrapping up Monica with both of her hands, pulling the distended part of her back together. She plopped her onto the coffee table and, with careful, deliberate tugs, tried to coax her mother into the shape of a vase. 

Strangely, Monica's body smoothed out on its own, the indents left by Danielle's fingers disappearing on their own. The substance was alive, and it resonated with Danielle's will.

"You always liked arts and crafts as a child." Monica mused. "It's like that pottery class we took together."

"We stopped doing these things for a long time..." Danielle recalled. "Never thought we'd be doing it like this again..."

The two women shared a quiet moment together, broken up by the soft squelching of Monica's liquid-ooze form. Soon, Danielle sat back to admire her work, having shaped her mother into a vase. 

"This is really happening... how do you feel, Mom?" Danielle asked.

"Perfectly fine, so long as you don't throw me into a piping hot kiln." Monica quipped. That got a laugh out of Danielle.

"Hah... gosh, this is crazy." Danielle sighed. "Like... There are so many questions. What did the spa do to you? How are you changing back and forth, and..."

"All questions that can be answered another night." Monica turned to Danielle, pivoting on her base. "You walked here at night all alone, didn't you?"

"Ah! Um..." Danielle prodded her fingers together. "I-I had to check on you. Make sure you were safe."

"I am now. Please, settle into the guest room. We'll talk more in the morning." Monica said. "You know you're the most important person in my life, Danielle; please, give yourself the same love you give me."

"Aw... moooom..." Danielle pulled up the vase and pulled it closer to her for a hug. She held it close... even as the vase shapeshifted back into her mother's old appearance, nightdress and all.

They shared a tender moment, and decided together to review their options tomorrow. After a good night of sleep. 


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