Guilmon Suit TF

You thought being a tamer would be easy.

Data swirls around your head—an infinite stream of shapes and numbers that twist and curl into each other. The area is lit a deep blue, and strain your eyes as you might you can’t quite see where it begins and where it ends. The portal you’d stepped through had fizzled out the moment you left it, and trailing through this endless hallway had quickly muddled your sense of direction.

And yet still, you followed your Digivice. Beeping, screen flashing. Clearly leading you somewhere.

You felt it in your gut. It was taking you somewhere important. To something important. It just had to be your partner Digimon.

And so, nose completely stuffed into the screen, you hadn’t noticed the figure surging toward you from behind.

He’s on you in a flash, smashing into your back like a truck. You cry as you crash to the ground, your assailant’s heavy form still atop you, pinning you to the ground by the wrists.

Scrunching your face, you try to wrestle away from his grasp. Your heart’s racing, pounding against your chest like a bomb waiting to explode. What the hell was it? What the hell was on top of you?

Whatever it is leans down. A rubbery snout brushes against your ear.

It chuckles.

“Finally found you…”

You stiffen at the voice. It’s almost childlike, yet despite how silly it sounds there’s an air of menace to it. Something threatening. Something that churns your stomach.

You want to ask what’s going on, but your voice catches in your throat, and even at the smallest sound the creature shushes you.

Whatever it is seems to take your continued silence afterwards as permission, because without warning his hands start tearing their way down your body, groping and grinding and pressing and kneading into your clothes and skin. Before long you have several holes in your shirt, and his hands are still moving.

Is… Is he searching for something?

Clearly he is, because with a quick swipe at your outstretched hands and a grunt of approval you find his shiny, clawed hand shoved under your nose, and gripped tightly in it is your Digivice. Your eyes focus on the reflection in the screen—a Digimon. One you recognised from the stories you’d heard from your friends.

A Growlmon, and yet his skin seems to shine unnaturally in the light.

The screen flashes a different colour as he taps a few buttons. It’s almost like a code, and once it’s input the light from the screen becomes unbearably bright. You squeeze your eyes shut as the glow envelops you, body tingling as the light flickers and burns into your lids before finally subsiding.

But when you finally open them again you find yourself to be naked.

Panic sets in for only a moment before it’s interrupted by a sick cracking sound. Your eyes snap back to your Digivice, forgetting your naked form, and once he’s got your attention the creature crunches the device in his palm, reducing the machine to scrap.

Your heart stops. Sparks crackle and spit from the broken electronics, and before you can even think to stop him the creature tosses the rubble into the distance, snarling as it disintegrates into data and joins the endless stream above you. The sight makes your chest tighten painfully.

How would you ever get home?

The creature chuckles at your despaired expression, and you jolt as his cold, rubbery hands trail down your bare arms.

“Won’t be needing that anymore,” he huffs.

You go cold, shaking all over, as he drags his slimy tongue over your ear, then down onto your cheek. Heart pounding, you screw up your face again and try to squirm away from him, but he easily keeps pace with your awkward fumbling— tangling his limbs in yours to keep you trapped. You jolt once more as another chill crashes through your body, followed by the sensation of something coating your skin. Everywhere the Growlmon touches you feel that same goopy feeling, as if it’s seeping off of his body and onto your own.

You gasp as the sensation coils around your legs and onto your crotch, but the Digimon holds you tight as you squirm, murmuring into your ear.

“Such a plain little human.” You feel his nostrils flare against your skin as he sniffs you, and you shudder at the rumbling noise he makes afterwards.

“I’m gonna make you perfect.”

Looping an arm around your waist, the Growlmon hauls your body upwards, forcing you up onto your knees. Wrists released, you make a scramble for freedom, shaking as you try to dislodge his rubbery body from your own. The position’s all wrong—your limbs feel tangled and clumsy, but you don’t stop. Breath harsh and shattered and strangled. This was wrong. This was all kinds of messed up!

You choke as his rubbery hand cups your balls, cold fingers squeezing and kneading your sack before trailing up to your cock. The touch freezes you rigid, the sensation contrasted by the hot breath falling on the back of your head. Rubber spreads from where he touches, coating your balls in white rubber.

As he leans down, pressing his snout to your cheek once again, you whine as he toys with your sex.

“No need to struggle, pup.” Hot breath against your ear, his voice a gentle, rumbling purr. You whine as he works your cock, groping and squeezing the sensitive flesh eagerly, building you up and up and up. Within seconds you’re erect, cock filling out in his hand, and the chill of his skin feels strangely nice against your hot flesh.

You shudder as he purrs above you.

“Be a good boy for me.”

He grins, licking your face, and your chest tightens yet again as the rubber surges over your skin: pink rubber engulfing and squeezing your cock, morphing the shape into something reptilian. It aches and twitches beneath the rubber, and the Growlmon groans gently.

“Mm. Atta boy.”

Distracted by that, you hadn’t noticed his other hand leave your waist, but you feel his claws as they graze around your ass, dipping between your cheeks. The touch makes you shudder, the skin there equally as untouched as your sex, but even as you try to squirm you find your limbs are numb and stiff. The Digimon chuckles at your helplessness, squeezing your cock for effect and purring at your broken whines.

F-Fuck… Oh fuck….

And all the while, the chill of the rubber continues to creep over your body. Wrapping around your arms, trickling onto your hands and feet. It curves and spreads over your ass, and your stomach twists as you feel the Digimon prodding and pushing it down between your cheeks.

“There we go.”

Stroking. Still working your cock. You shudder, breath heavy as he dips a finger inside you—pushes it right in along with the rubber. The goo is even worse inside you. Cold and sticky and awful, but your none of your squirming will get it out now.

“That’s it.” Slow, pushing in slowly. Growlmon drags his tongue along your neck as he breaches you, purring and growling at every noise you make in response. “Ease it in.”

Your stomach twists, mind racing and cheeks hot with shame, as your cock jolts.

The finger retreats for a moment before being replaced with two, and you moan as he spreads you with them. Gentle, twisting motions, but amplified against the rubber. Every push inwards makes your cock leap in his hand, and every press at your sensitive nerves makes you shiver and whine. Even without lubrication, the rubber makes it slick and painless.

“That’s a good pup.”

Snout to your ear again, breath and tongue hot to your flesh. You can’t stop shaking. Can’t stop squirming and whining. He strokes you quicker, harder, faster. The rubber spreads up your neck, barely touching your chin. Your head spins. You should hate this! You should be trying to escape!

A-Aah… F-Fuck…!

He grips your cock hard, sliding his hand down to your balls and back up again. Saliva drools down your chin, disappearing into the rubber as it climbs towards your lips.

You’re… You’re going to come…!

A twisting sensation below. Rubber bubbling and squeezing your shaft. You stumble on your arms, only barely keeping your balance. Growlmon’s touches grow lighter, yet faster, sweeping over your sex like a feather, before he presses in harder. Kneading and grinding into your pink cock.

Breathing hard. Fast. Desperate.

F-Fuck! Fuck!

His hand grinds right over your crotch. Your back arches, nostrils flaring, body ready—

—and in one horrible moment you feel your cock being sealed away—trapped behind a thick, rubber bulge.

Your mind stutters like a failing machine, thoughts burning white and empty..

Whining. Shaking harder. Pleading. Desperate.

You have to come!

He grinds into the bulge once, purring as you shake violently beneath him. J-Just barely on the edge. Desperate. Needing to come. You’re so close!

Even as he pins your head to the ground, shoving you downwards and exposing your backside to him, you don’t stop whining. The hand is gone, but you can still feel it. The way it presses and touches and kneads into you just right. The rubber—your skin—burns with need. Need to be touched by him. Need to come.

But he won’t give you that, and two fingers become three, and quickly four. Four digits ramming your prostate. Your whole body trembles, rubbery skin on fire.

“That feel good?” His voice rings in your ears, echoing through your head, and even just the sound of it seems to make your sealed cock leap and jerk fruitlessly.

You let out a shuddering moan as he leans down once more, coating your ear in rubber. It oozes down from his hand, too, dribbling down your face and sealing itself over your hair.

Something hot and thick presses into your rear as he does, and instinctively you know exactly what it is.

“You’re gonna be taking more than just my fingers when you’re ready, pup.”

The rubber rises over your face, coating your mouth and nose and pressing out into a reptilian snout. You choke as it floods your throat and burns your sinuses, the reptilian nostrils on your new snout reacting as if they were your own, yet you’re still squirming with need, hardly even caring about what’s happening to you anymore.

J-Just… Just need to touch.

Your eyes, glassy and dull, fall to your hand, coated in goo. It won’t move for you, and even as you manage to move your fingers you find them webbed in rubber. Sticky and useless as the rubber morphs around you.

Faster.

He rams into you faster, harder.

And again.

Faster.

Harder.

You whine. Moan. Cry.

Your thoughts crumble to dust as the rubber sweeps down your eyes, merging with the rubber spreading upwards. Your cock aches. Your skin burns relentlessly, desperate to be touched and fondled and used.

Everything turns to static as the rubber coats you completely, looping around your head and sealing you permanently in your new form. A thick haze falls over your mind, muddling your thoughts. Your memories. Your sense of identity. Your body aches, skin itching as everything is rewired to your new skin. Every taste and scent and sight linked to it.

Growlmon purrs once more, his slimy tongue igniting your new skin as he drags it up your cheek.

“Atta boy.”

A tail slowly whips out from your spine as he pulls off of you, glistening in the ethereal glow of the data around you and keeping you unsteady on your feet as he lifts you off the ground. You turn slowly to gaze at him, noting your rubbery reflection in your skin, and your mind spins and sways dangerously in response.

G-Guilmon?

You… You are a…

Hu… Guilmon.

Rubber trickles into your ears, muddying your thoughts even further. You hear his voice playing in your head, whispering into your brain, molding every part of your identity.

Guilmon.

My Guilmon.

My pet.

Good pup.

Obey.

Guil… Guilmon.

It passes. The haze in your eyes clear just a little, and you purr in delight as he pushes you down to your knees, nose pressed to his twitching cock, nostrils flaring as you take in the rubbery, yet musky scent.

Your eyes wander up, catching your master’s own as a rumble falls from his chest, and your sealed cock aches unbearably as he speaks.

“That’s my good Guilmon.”