Operation Double R.

That was what the document title read. Nice, clean, and ambiguous. Only by searching through the mountain of accompanying paragraphs revealed what those two Rs stood for - Rubber Rocket.

Before my eyes fell upon those words, they first scrolled past a dozen warnings that the following pages were for level six Rocket personnel and above ONLY.

I was level two.

I had first joined Team Rocket a year ago as your basic grunt - level zero. I thought it was a way to make some easy money ... and I’ll admit that I was intrigued by the rumors swirling around Johto: about mysterious, dark experiments intending to give humans pokemon qualities. These rumors were mixed and many - some said that they were kidnapping humans to transform into pokemon. Others said that they were trying to find ways to convert humans into mindless, obedient drones who would blindly obey every command. One even said that they were using some rubber compound to turn people into servile, rubber pokemon goons! The last rumor was laughably dismissed by most respectable members of society - but it left me curious. Was it even possible?

I wondered what it would be like to be a happy rubber slave, forever doing Team Rocket’s bidding. To be filled with nothing but blissful loyalty to both master and the Team. To never worry about anything but displeasing your master.

I found the idea … enticing.

Unfortunately, society didn’t. If not kept a strict secret, any such idea would be declared weird, kinky, and frankly disgusting. This rejection, along with my curiosity, lay the foundation for finally joining up with the mysterious Team Rocket. Maybe they could finally offer everything that I had secretly craved?

Here, they don’t judge you based on your beliefs, tastes, or appearance - they simply treat everyone Beneath them like dirt. The big fishes are at the top, untouchable. The admins sneer at the management. The management scoffs at the researchers. The researchers belittle the technicians. Everyone abuses the grunts.

Unless you have a degree, loads of cash, an exceptionally useful talent, or discover you’re the personal relative of one of the big fishes, there’s little chance of making it past grunt level.

But anyways, I wasn’t here for a promotion. I was here for information.

To see if it was true...

And it was.

It was before me, plain as day - Operation Double R. I could barely believe it - the stories were true! It was actually true!

I clicked on one of the adjoining documents detailing one of the experiments. Subject 119xZA - rubber Zorua. A folder within was full of endless rows of photos carefully capturing every fine detail of the transformation. Another subdocument had a full video file. Even more were filled with scientific jargon - graphs, data sets, pages and pages of analysis. One page in particular caught my attention - Status Report 55*813A.

Unlike most of the other reports, this looked personally written by one of the leading researchers. I grew excited as I scanned the page, taking in every word. It was exactly as I’d hoped - simple, obedient servitude with no stress or worries. No scorn or abuse by my superiors. This was it! None of the mind-numbing, back-breaking slavery grunts were subjected to. It sounded perfect - just like my most optimistic dreams. Excitement built up within me as I wondered how I could possibly sign up for this program myself …

The answer came with the sensation of ice-cold, steel-like claws squeezing against my neck.

“Don’t move.”

I was aggressively wrestled out of the room by a growling midnight lycanroc, frenzied claws digging into my shoulders. Something was pressed against my mouth, and I barely made out a single, fuzzy human figure standing in the hallway before I lost consciousness completely.

I groggily woke up inside a large, empty room. The walls were bare except for a floor-to-ceiling mirror on one side, and a large pane of glass on the other. As the fuzziness in my head cleared, I noticed I was uncomfortably on my hands and knees, a nagging tightness reverberating across my torso. Looking down at my hands, I saw them shackled with red bracelets, a strap leading up from each wrist to connect to my forearm. I was wearing a harness - one of the harnesses I saw in those documents!!! There was one notable difference, however - a long, thin metallic tail hung limp from the rear, a metal star shape adorning the top. I recognized the tail instantly - a Luxray!

“Hello, Tobias.”

A voice droned through an unseen loudspeaker, easily filling the small room.

“You seem to have developed an interest in our little secret Pet project. You were looking at the zorua documents, correct?”

With a mix of dread and jubilation, I nodded.

“Well, if you must know, I am pleased to say he’s been performing very well. His abilities have really exceeded all our expectations. I myself was impressed with the way he perfectly handled you.”

Handled … me? My thoughts flashed back to being wrangled inside the office. The lycanroc . . . was that … ???

“Since you’ve been so … eager to learn about our pet project, I’ve decided for you to gain a first hand experience of our process. Add some files of your own to that database you so carelessly hacked into. After all, the only way a grunt like you should ever know of our top-secret projects is by being one of our “valued” guinea pigs. A pity, since you had such potential. With the computer cracking talent you demonstrated, perhaps even a lowly grunt like you could have become one of our specialists …”

I tried to hide a beaming smile, worried that if I expressed too much enjoyment they’d cancel the procedure in favor of something worse. What they meant as a condescending sneer I took as a compliment - they must have really admired my computer skills!

“ … But it would be a bit hard to program any computer with stiff rubber paws! It simply seems that you’re better suited to serve Team Rocket through mindless obedience and lowly servitude. But enough talk - you won’t remember any of this afterwards, anyways. Goodbye, Grunt. I look forward to seeing Luxray in a few months …”

The intercom cut off, leaving behind complete emptiness. I stood there, taking it all in while trying to maintain my balance. My heart was pounding with excitement, anticipation, and just the slightest hint of fear. What if the experiment went wrong? What if team Rocket didn’t treat me well? What if the process didn’t work?



It was too late to turn back now. But who says I wanted to?

I could barely contain my excitement as a gooey liquid began to drip down from a hole in the ceiling, thick, rubberlike strands oozing downwards towards my waiting body. Due to my tight, rigid constraints, I couldn’t escape the approaching latex even if I tried.

I felt an ice-cold shiver run up my spine as the liquid made contact with my back. Thick, coal-black rubber began to pile up on my backside, melting down and over the sides of my body. I shivered with delight as the liquid sloshed and wiggled around my back. It felt as good as I imagined it - no, better! The more it pressed against my clothes, the more I wanted. I could barely imagine the pure bliss once my entire body was forever encased inside!

The goo bubbled and flew across my body like it had a mind of its own. I could barely keep myself from grinning as globs of latex cascaded onto my figure. The rubbery liquid compressed and stretched, worming itself between the harness and my skin. As the rubber continued to build, I felt the harness squeezing tighter and tighter, pressing the malleable goop deeper into my flesh. I could feel the clothes beneath beginning to dissolve underneath the rubber’s pressing attack, exposing bare skin to the full brunt of the heavy, warm liquid rubber. I gasped at the shockingly pleasant tingling sensation of rubber upon skin - the raw ecstasy nearly making me collapse in a trembling heap save for the restraints propping me upright.

The transformation couldn’t happen fast enough.

Excess rubber pooled below my body, oozing from my black-tinted belly as the thick, churning latex began to swirl with flashes of color. A vibrant electric blue streaks across my underbelly, spreading like food coloring. Energetic blue tendrils of rubber wrap around my arms and legs, bursting like blood vessels before packing around my limbs in thick, syrupy layers. More and more gooey tendrils bled downwards, pooling on top of previous latex layers. A particularly thick, black glob of concentrated rubber oozed down from the top of my arms, dribbling over my waiting hands. Gradually, the overwhelming concentration of the gooey slide forced my fingers tightly together: binding, squeezing, and balling them into painfully tight, cramped fists caked completely in latex. Even after the last of my fingers vanished beneath smears of goo, the rubber continued to constrict and compress, smushing my fingers so tightly against the palm of my hand that moving them was nearly impossible.

The goo continued to intensify around my palms, condensing and thickening into a tough, solid insulating layer between my jammed hands and the ground. I shivered in delight as I felt the same occur with my legs. The goo felt so snug, so deliciously warm and cozy that the uncovered bits of my body were starting to feel bitterly cold in the exposed air.

Something in my rear twitched as liquid goo began falling onto the metallic tail lying lifeless behind me. Streaks of rubber began to cultivate in ever-growing splotches, metallic gray gradually vanishing beneath latex sheets of beautiful midnight black. The star became a brilliant yellow, flecks of rubber catching the light in a dazzling latex display. How I longed to move it, to feel it as much mine as any of my other limbs! Alas, all I felt was a small, disappointing buzzing in my spine.

I was distracted from my disappointment by movement below my face. Goo rippled upwards from the leather collar pinned around my neck, sprouting tendrils that clung to my chin and dripped skywards. At the same time, the nozzle spewing the thick, rubbery liquid shifted, moving directly over my head. Shiny, black globs of latex rained down upon my head, streaks smearing through my hair and gushing down the sides of my face. My beaming smile and nose was caked by increasing layers of syrupy rubber, coils of liquid latex forcing its way up and into my mouth and nostrils.

The nauseating stench of rubber filled my nasal cavity as gooey, viscous material inflated within my mouth like some sort of semi-liquid gag. Without hesitation, I swallowed the thick, gunky fluid, gulping it down like it was soda. This goo was packed with oxygen and basic nutrients, allowing my body to survive while slowly being weaned off of needless human “necessities”. I couldn’t wait to be free of these restrictive human qualities. I imagined what it would be like, truly discharged from the confines of human society. The places I could go, all the extra time I would have …. These necessities were so embedded in our human psyche that it was impossible to imagine life without it - that it was even feasible at all.

My vision sealed up as the goo stretched over my eyes, I took one last look at the room with my human eyes before it all went black.

Everything felt uncomfortably numb.

It was as if I was floating in a bed of semi-solid glue. The latex was pressing in from every angle imaginable, sealing up the tiniest of cracks and crevices. There was absolutely no room to move or even wiggle!

My body felt like it was being forcefully crushed into itself by the sheer pressure. It was far more agonizing than I expected, yet the rubber seemed to possess a strange, soothing ability that absorbed my pain. The molten rubber massaged and flowed over my bare skin, alleviating some of the cramped soreness.

Time slowed to an indistinguishable crawl. There was nothing but rubber. Rubber smothered my eyes, caked my nose, and swished in my mouth. Rubber was all I smelled, saw, and heard.

Rubber, beautiful rubber.

To pass the time, I recalled the process that I remembered seeing in the zorua case. The perpetual squeezing pressure seemed to operate on a cycle: constrict, loosen. Constrict, loosen. Constrict, loosen. Tighter and tighter. The more it tightened, the less pain there was. It was becoming natural - constricting and squeezing. Perfecting. I wanted to be hugged. To be contained. Day by day, the pleasure was growing. I didn't care how long it took, only that it would make me perfect.

I was also getting murmurs in my head, fleeting moments where I just seemed to stop thinking. In those moments there was only pure pleasure. Raw, unfiltered bliss. I shivered with satisfaction at every slight tough. It was so heavenly … I could barely stand it!

When I thought of team Rocket, the thrill was multiplied, spasms of euphoria ripping through my entire being.

Serve team Rocket …

Obey team Rocket …

I played these thoughts over and over again in my head like a broken record machine, craving the inevitable dopamine release. My brain was connecting the team rocket imagery with the jolts of happiness, the joy of latex.

Team Rocket is Joy.

Team Rocket is Bliss.

Empty your mind of all but bliss, and be forever blissful.

Empty your mind of all but team Rocket.

Obey.

I repeated the mantra in my mind.

Team Rocket is Joy. Team Rocket is bliss. Obey.



Obey.

Obey.

Obey.

Obray …

Lu … Obey …

L - luxray …

Little by little, the voices, the nudges, the whispers grew louder and louder. My brain began reproducing the words on its own. The words were repeating in my head now whether I thought about it or not. No matter what I thought about, the mantra would always be there. And I loved it.
I stopped wanting to think about anything else. Why would I? I desired to be a pet. A beautiful, perfect rubber pet.

As time grew, my other memories became fuzzier and fuzzier. At first it was little details corrupted into team Rocket imagery. Eating out at Team Rocket’s. Going on vacation to Team Rocketland. Going to the grocery store to kidnap more victims for Team Rocket’s experiments. The little things.

I couldn’t wait to be put to use by my boss - master.

The word rushes through my mind along with a flood of dopamine for thinking the right thing. Of course they were my masters! I have to stop using these human terms to address my proper owners.

I wondered what duties I would fulfill and how I would serve my new masters.

But why would you need to think that? A silly pet like you shouldn’t worry about such matters. Your masters will tell you what to do.

Wow, the voice sure had a point!

Stop your silly thinking. Let your masters handle all of those stressful responsibilities! Your sole purpose is to serve your master. By doing this you will be fulfilling your Team Rocket purpose.

It sounded so obvious now. I was so stupid!

Of course you are, you silly luxray. That’s why the masters handle all the thinking! A perfect luxray like you can’t be bothered with. Wasting time creating ‘thoughts’ and ‘decisions’ weakens you. Restricts your abilities. You don’t think. You do. You obey. In battles there is no time for thought, only obedience and performance.

Thought is Hesitation. Hesitation is Imperfection. Imperfection makes Team Rocket weak. You are team Rocket. You are its agent. Obey those superior to you. Crush those inferior to you beneath your paws.

Yes … Lu - luxray …

Little by little, the thick, perfect goo my body was ingesting was changing me. As my heart pumped nutrient-rich rubber through my bloodstream, tiny traces of rubber were clinging to blood cells and tissue. Like a virus, the blood cells were twisted into miniature latex factories, pumping out rubber of their own into my body. Bones were constantly broken and re-healed in increasingly feline-like positions. By now, every slight change just added more euphoria swimming through my body. Everything else felt numb - just the vague sensation of rubber, rubber everywhere, inside and out.

One day, my eyes simply opened.

For a moment, I was blindsided - I hadn’t seen the light in forever! For a split second, It was like staring directly into the sun.

With surprising ease, however, my vision cleared, revealing the room I had possessed since . . . since forever.

A faint beating sound filled my ears, and I swung my head around, trying to place it - until I realized it was coming from within me.

It was my beating heart.

My whole body was making noise, from the stomach’s juices to swallowing.



I felt disgusted by it - by these noises. I was basically a walking megaphone! If my pristine sense of hearing could detect it, so could anyone else. I needed to be absolutely silent. Silence increases my lethality. Silence is perfection.

Noise represented weakness - the pathetic inferiority team Rocket loathed. Noise was a human construction. Bungling idiots - no wonder my masters needed me. However, I wasn’t ready quite yet - I still have weaknesses to overcome.

However, the harness that had been placed on me was gone, allowing for the full range of movement. I was free.

I took a cautious step forward, feeling my thick, rubber-clad pawpads squeezing the floor.

Noiseless. Efficient. Completely lethal. Exactly the way my masters liked it.

I took a few more steps, wobbling slightly with each attempt. My front legs in particular wiggled like jelly, like they were struggling to contain my weight. Like they weren't naturally meant to be that way.

It took a week for this pitiful awkwardness to subside. As I learned to walk, the feeling became more and more natural. My front legs slowly adapted to their new job, supporting my muscular frame with growing ease. Solid rubber muscles exclusively suited for walking, jumping and leaping expanded and grew, while old, other tissues withered away into nothing.

It took another week for that annoying internal noise to cease, leaving behind pure, beautiful silence.

I continued practicing my walking. Working on my speed. Becoming faster. Stronger. Closer to perfect.

One day while practicing my running, I brushed up against the room’s wall, giving me a slight static shock that sent a tiny jolt through my body. I instinctively cringed, skidding to a stop. That hurt!

However, I felt another tiny zap between the pricks of my mane, close to the initial shock . And another. And another.

Despite their initial discomfort, I soon wanted more. I began rubbing against the sides of my room, feeling tiny pangs of static electricity pinch my rubber-covered body like thousands of tiny insects biting into me.

However, the tiny pinpricks of electric fluff is nothing compared to the jubilation I was feeling. The electric sparks was jumping between the rubber, making the natural euphoria almost unbearably intoxicating. The element of electricity was almost mine to command - just a little more ---

Gradually, the static began to increase in intensity. Rubbing against the wall was producing more and more static, a few fleeting sparks staying longer and longer within my body on their own power. Particularly large bursts stung my eyes and face, but I kept persisting.

Several weeks of rubbing later, I could feel a faint but consistent electrical tingle within my body. I was even beginning to give off a miniscule static charge of my own when nearing the wall. This sensation only grew as my scraping, smearing, and wiping continued.

Soon, I could see visible arcs of electricity steak between the tips of my metallic claws. As the days passed, rubber sliding against each other internally began to produce electricity of its own. Muscles, issues, and organs slowly began to conform to the power I deserved to wield. Outdated parts found new purpose, such as blood vessels being remodeled into ideal power cables, able to transport unfathomable volumes of electricity in fractions of a second to one of the metallic contact points on my body - the claws and razor-sharp fangs lined inside my muzzle.

Electricity began to course readily through my muscles, charging them with superpowered strength. I twitched constantly, my once sizable room becoming painfully confined. I longed to run, to expend the now endless amounts of electric energy charged within my superhuman muscles. To spend it all for Team Rocket.

But still I rubbed and trained to the best of my ability. The latex - infused organs lacerated against each other faster, becoming miniature power plants generating massive volumes of electrical power.

I practiced subjecting this inner power under my control - releasing it, projecting it, shooting it.

Finally, after what felt like forever, a hidden door opened on one of the side walls, revealing a tall, thin man wearing a fancy suit. A shiny zorua tail poked out from the rear.

“You’ve been looking very well, Luxray. Team Rocket is so pleased with your progression!”

I felt my tail wag from the praise. I was … a good pet?

“Allow me to take you to your first evaluation, and then get you fitted up for some special training and mission assignment!”

My tail wagged even heavier at the thought of being assigned. I could barely hold myself back from jumping for joy! Something in my head told me this person was a master and should thus be obeyed and treated dutifully. Despite my electric-fueled excitement, I managed to restrain myself, waiting obediently by his feet.

Seeing my reaction, he grinned, rubbing a hand against my rubbery, thick black mane. The movement was beyond pure bliss, shivers of pleasure rippling through every fiber of my body.

It stopped all too soon. He took a step back and reached into his pocket, pulling out a single pokeball. Unlike a normal pokeball, the top half was black and had a distinguishable red R emblazoned on the front.

“You ready to go?”

“Luxray!”

The voice the emerged from my throat sounded mechanical, deep and guttral. Threatening. Menacing. Perfect for striking fear in the hearts of the enemies of Team Rocket.

Without a word, he tosses the pokeball in my direction, shrouding my vision in a bright, white light before everything goes dark. Some sort of massagers begin caressing my latex skin as I lay in the darkness, leaving me in a perpetual state of bliss.

In the dark, I think about my future - my wonderful, wonderful future. About my masters and my missions. Of being the lethal force I was.

I was going to be the best rubber luxray ever!

two-part artwork and story commission for firedragon7000, feat. Tobias as our next Team Rocket experiment! A low-level grunt, he was caught reading documents he shouldn't have and is forced to face the consequences - though, perhaps that's what he intended all along ...

(part 1)