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Debt Relief

--** Marton decides to pay off his bank debts by undergoing a special procedure, so that he can perform specialized work**

Warning: This fiction contains explicit, adult themes including:

Transformation

Mind control

Goo

Identity Removal

Nullification

I didn't edit this oops

Please use discretion. If you are below 18, do not read.

By Miles, the Shiba Inu

_________________________________________________________________________________

Marton shivered in the brisk air, his hands cupped over his groin. The porcupine's teeth chattered, he tried his best to ignore his breath. He stepped left and right, ancy from the chilled floors. The porcupine tightened the grip on his groin, his modesty the only barrier to rubbing at his arms. He doubted he could do much to warm up anyway.

"Why's it gotta be so cold in here?" He called out to the walls of his canister, peering through the glass into the warmer lab outside. A score of people in lab coats, thick rubber gloves and partial face masks that looked to be filters milled through the room. A handful of the technicians were stationed in front of Marton, fiddling with dials and buttons, or scribbling notes from the readouts on screens. One of the masked people- a coati with an unusually long tail -approached the glass tube. They leaned toward a microphone and bent it toward their mask.

"The air needs to be chilled in order for the conversion material to function properly. Otherwise, it would stick to the walls, maybe even cause some... Odd disfigurements." The coati's voice was deep and ominous, distorted twice through the mask's voice filter, and then the conduction system to allow sound inside the tube. Marton bit his lip nearly hard enough to break skin, the anxiety of apprehension made him forget all about the cold.

The porcupine's quills shuddered, he danced frantically inside the tube and the sweat of stress chilled him further. Marton had come to the lab looking for respite from debt, to pay off the considerable loan he'd defaulted on. Everything was going so well, until he ran a string of bad luck with some minor investments, getting a vehicle repaired, and an unexpected medical expense. Now he owed major credits to the largest bank in the system, and it would take years living paycheque to paycheque in order to squeeze out from under their thumb.

A bank official recommended a special kind of debt relief during a particularly desperate communication. Marton could undergo a special procedure to fit a certain role, and would work off the debt at a reduced interest rate. They promised he'd go from several years to just a few short months of payments, and then he'd be returned to his original form. Even after reading pamphlets about this total conversion's invasive and total transformative nature, he couldn't bare the thought of living in relative squalor. Standing inside some tube, about to let technicians and scientists alter his body sent shivers down his spine more intense than the cold inside the chamber could draw out from him.

"Maybe you could double check the backup of my uhm... Configuration? It's all down, right? I'm starting to have second thoughts about this." Marton's voice cracked, he stepped toward the glass and pressed his hands against the walls. The technician's eyes wrinkled, but Marton couldn't make out the nature of the expression.

"We've already spent considerable time preparing you, Mr. Carth. You may incur further fines, if you decide to back out of the procedure now, but maybe we could place you in a work ce-" Marton cut the coati off banging against the glass.

"I don't want to go to a work center! I've already got a job too." He looked around the room at all of the computers and technicians preparing for the porcupine's procedure. His eyes settled back in line with the coati's, the two stared at each other for a solid sad minute.

"Please stand in the center of the chamber," the coati said. "Your template has been randomly selected, your parameters have been backed up including DNA, measurements, colour of fur, eyes, etc. etc... I must inform you that your randomly selected template is one of our experimental models, so kudos to that. Your service will double as a test trial, that may land you points to getting out sooner." The technician flicked his stylus against one of the computer screens, going through a standard checklist. Marton's ears pricked up, perhaps this wouldn't be so bad if he could get out of it all a bit faster than he'd thought.

The porcupine backed up into the center of the chamber and stood still, took a deep breath and tried to calm his quills. He was never one to fire a needle when he was nervous, but these were different circumstances. Marton's sight drew down to look at the coati one more time, who was speaking to the other technicians, pointing, he thought he could read their lips. 'Initiate sequence,' he mouthed out with narrow eyes.

All the apprehension came back to him, all the way up his back and through his quills. The machine whirred and shook slightly, vibrations throughout the porcupine's body told him that he couldn't back out anymore. Marton lifted one paw, as something warm pooled up around his toes and pads, an off-white gunk that clung to his feet and made it hard to tug them up. An odd noise drew Marton's attention toward the ceiling, just in time to see part of the tube's metal top screwing out of sight, a circle cut out of the metal. A steely ring slid out of the opening, its rubber sides sealed the portion of the tube above it from all below it. The inside of the ring was black as the void of space, Marton found a hard time trying to focus on it.

The porcupine's heart beat so fast and hard he couldn't separate his breath from the rhythm. The world seemed to get smaller and smaller, as the ring descended upon Marton, who was tugging his paws up and down in the sticky white goop that kept him stuck square in the middle of the tube. He closed his eyes and tried to breath, as the air pressure increased. The porcupine's ears popped, he opened his eyes and tried to look up just as the black circle contacted the top of his head.

The ring was quite elastic, to Marton's surprise, stretching over his head and ears. It was a bit funny, almost, to feel the warm substance draw taut over his skull as the ring continued down without it, but the pressure was mounting. The porcupine felt the black rubber-like material cling to his fur and flesh, conforming to his shape, as the ring pulled down past his shoulders. It was much like a goo, once the weight was high enough, and it spread down his forehead and snout, squeezing into his nostrils and against his teeth without any resistance.

Marton slammed his hands into the black elastic substance, as it slid across his teeth, the roof of his mouth and into his throat. It felt like it was invading him, filling up his lungs and diving into his stomach, but he couldn't thrash no matter how hard he tried, since the tight material held him in place. His hands, too, only got stuck in the substance which already coated his head and neck, leaving him looking like a vantablack sculpture of himself. Even his eyes were coated all the way through to the back of his sockets, but he felt no pain, only a pleasant numbing tingle.

He thought he heard a crunch, like the pressure of the ring was shortening him. Inch after inch was taken away, as the elastic substance somehow compressed his spine and made him smaller.

The porcupine couldn't breath, but he felt not the need. He couldn't see, but could feel the tight substance crawling down his back, holding down his quills- some of which fired uselessly against the glass -and smoothing them down. . The porcupine wondered what it looked like, because he could swear that he felt as though the substance was destroying the quills, or merging them into his back. The ring was well down past his thighs, and the warm black substance coated his belly.

He felt at his smooth chest, surprised that he could move his arms. The porcupine frantically patted at his back next, feeling it as bare and flat as a non-porcupine. His quills were gone, and regret settled into his stomach next to the relief that he was going to finally get rid of all the debt. Marton continued to feel at his chest and stomach, which felt matte and soft to his coated fingers. The substance filled into his rear, which made the porcupine squirm momentarily.

He was still getting used to the strangeness of not having to breath, as the ring finally contacted the floor of the chamber, and the black substance tightened around his footpaws. The porcupine felt like his insides were as smooth as the outside of his body, and wondered if he should have payed more attention to the procedure briefings before he entered the chamber.

A few minutes passed by with silence, he thought he heard something over the intercom, but couldn't make it out, even though the machine had stopped vibrating. The quiet didn't last, however, as the tube rattled once more, and the ring began to draw back up. The hot white goop drew up along with the ring, coating Marton's feet and legs with a shiny brilliance.

An arm slid out another opening in the ceiling and pressed something to his face, contacting fully with every inch of his features. The black elastic substance seemed to act on its own, tugging the mask against his face, into his face, contacting fully with his eyes that were forced to look into the right spot. He patted at his face, feeling not his nose, or his eyes, nor his mouth which could not open. Something soft and squish pressed down on his ears, as well, leaving them another shape that he wished he could see.

Marton's angst about his change of appearance was interrupted, as the warm slime coated his groin. He squirmed inside the tube, no longer concerned with the shame of being seen. The porcupine lowered his arms through the ring, which felt like pushing them through molasses. His fingers felt smooth and pliant, but his fingertips gained a rough pattern to them, as well as the palms of his hands where pads might be. He felt over his stomach, smooth like plastic with water running over it.

When he reached his groin, the former porcupine wanted to whimper. He felt nothing, but a smooth sensitive patch where his sex should be. The porcupine's changes were overwhelming, he hadn't a clue of what to focus on first, as every few seconds he discovered a new dramatic difference. The white warm coating pulled up his chest and neck, flooded through his maw and down his insides.

Another arm slid from a larger opening in the ceiling, planting a thick prosthetic tail just at the top of Marton's rear. It squeezed the rudder-like appendage against him, until the white prosthetic fused with his new flesh. The former porcupine felt it come to life, as though it became an extension of his spine.

For a few moments there was nothing, and Marton wondered what was next, as he stood motionless with his paws held up near his chest. He felt like he was going to start crying, but a light formed in his vision before stress could overcome him. The point of yellow slowly filled out his sight, becoming a stream of multiple colours that danced around his sight. The kaleidescope of shapes and shades became three dimensional, and he could see them in depth if he moved his head this way or that. He saw the logo of the bank's father-company fly overhead in big friendly letters, before that faded away, and his view from inside the tube came back to him.

Only the coati was standing in front of the tube watching Marton, the rest were off at other terminals watching readouts. The former porcupine walked up against the glass and pressed his face to the wall, which squished oddly, prompting him to step back and look down at himself. His hips were lower, his body a bit thicker and very smooth, very white, very shiny. He looked back at his rear to see the otter-like tail that was seamlessly attached to him.

Marton looked back to the coati and tried to speak, to ask what he was, but only a shrill chirping escaped him. He patted at his mouth with paws that were glove-lick, with thick padded fingers, and jumped a bit. The creature caught his reflection in the glass, finally able to see his face. The drone's head was smooth, a suggestion of a muzzle and snout, but with no species recognizable traits. His eyes were two bright lights from under the surface of his skin, which moved to suggest expression, squinting, and became big circles when he was surprised. He tried to half-close one eye, and it indeed became a semi-circle.

The glass walls of the tube twisted to the left, and then lifted up into the ceiling. The coati gestured to the ramp that lead up to the tube, and Marton tentatively stepped down, onto the floor where the technician was waiting. Every step he took felt squishy, and made a similar sound. His stance was altered, as his legs were shorter and he had to take more steps than he was used to.

"Don't worry about mastering your gait, all of that will come to you naturally." The technician said, as he took Marton's hand. He was told to stand still, as the coati produced a rolling stamp tool. He activated the device and slid it down Marton's side, down his outer thigh like a wide brush, leaving a dark, clear barcode behind.

It hit Marton in that moment, that he may technically be property. The reality of his debt-relief method truly set in, and he began an ancy little dance.

"Oh, Mr. Carth, don't worry," The coati said as Marton chirped. "We honor our contracts and you will not be sold. Now, come along here so that you can begin your training. This particular model is a kind of servant, you're the forty third of your kind. You'll be working in a sort of resort, it's actually very soft work." The procyon explained, and lead Marton into a small, long room where other drones were sitting down.

All of the drones looked identical to Marton, and as he was lead into the room, he thought it may be impossible to distinguish him from the others once he was sat down. He realized that the barcodes were very practical.

"Alright, Mr. Carth- or should I call you Drone #43? Although you won't remember it, I'd like to explain this template... You see, this is our first line of completely anonymous drones. Usually our processes leave something of the old person behind, like a species, or a unique feature, that sort of thing. You're in the testing series for completely identical drones." The coati sat Drone #43 down on one of the plush seats, between two other drones.

The two drones next to him were staring forward, unmoving, their tails nestled into the holes in their chairs. The drone's eyes were slowly strobing different colours, big wide circles. The coati made Marton stare forward, and tapped his 'nose.'

"Alright, 43, here we go!" He produced a remote and pressed a button on it. "Begin training now."

The drone's world faded away into darkness, he realized he must have looked a lot like the other drones at the moment. In the blackness of this VRscape, more 3D block letters appeared from the distance.

"Hello Drone #43! Welcome to training." The words read out, before fading away.

"We're going to be making some significant mental changes, but don't worry. All of your memories, and your personality are backed up! Just sit back, and enjoy the conditioning."

Marton was unsure, but as the environment bled into odd colours and gentle sounds filled his ears, he found it easy to relax his thoughts. Drone #43 knew he might just enjoy this entire venture, afterall. He could be a good drone.