Agent in Training - Cosplay TF
Tags: Inanimate, Caption, Cosplay
DescriptionIf you want to make a suggestion or have an unique idea join the Discord ServerAgent in Training - Cosplay TFLast Part:Ilyas's eyes stood nervously in the center of the old facility building. Her trembling fingers couldn't stop adjusting the skintight black latex transformation suit that…
Ilyas's eyes stood nervously in the center of the old facility building. Her trembling fingers couldn't stop adjusting the skintight black latex transformation suit that hugged every curve of her athletic frame. The material responded to her touch with a soft squeak, its surface catching the harsh lights like spilled oil. "Listen up, Recruit Thierena," Commander Chen's stern voice crackled through the speaker. From behind the observation window, his weathered face showed zero emotion. "Your preliminary tests showed promise, but raw potential means nothing without control. The first exercise is to transform into a plush toy. Even a child could manage this." Ilyas swallowed hard, her throat tight. Focus, she told herself, just like the manual said. 'Visualize the form and let the nanites do their work...' The first wave of transformation hit like an electric shock coursing through her entire nervous system. "Fuuuuuck!" she gasped. Her bones turned to rubber, organs shifting impossibly beneath her skin. The world stretched, twisted, compressed. Every nerve ending screamed with alien sensation as her body began to change. "Language, recruit! Maintain focus!" Her consciousness scattered, then reformed in a disorientating rush. She tried to move, but nothing responded correctly. No arms. No legs. It just has a soft, plush exterior and stuffing where organs used to be. Even breathing felt wrong without lungs. The room spun as her awareness tried to adjust to this alien form. "Reset and try again," Chen sighed. "This time, actually concentrate!" The return to human form left Ilyas retching on hands and knees. Cold sweat dripped from her nose to the training room floor. The suit squeaked with each heaving breath, her stomach doing backflips. "Up. Again. Ball form this time. Simple sphere, nothing complex." Ilyas forced herself to stand on shaking legs. The second transformation wasn't any easier. Her bones liquefied, organs rearranging themselves as her body compressed inward. The sensation of becoming perfectly round made her want to scream, but she had no mouth anymore. THUD. She hit the padded floor, rolling uncontrollably. Everything felt wrong. No limbs, no orientation, just... spherical existence. The room spun sickeningly with each rotation. "Control your momentum recruit! Use your mind to direct movement!" 'How the fuck am I supposed to-' Her thoughts scattered as she careened into a wall. The impact sent strange vibrations through her rubber form. She could feel everything - temperature changes in the floor, minute textures, even air currents. "Focus Thierena! Center of mass! Direct your energy!" Hours passed in a blur of failed attempts. Ball. Microphone. Simple inanimate shapes that shouldn't be challenging. Yet each transformation felt like being turned inside out, her consciousness struggling to adapt to these impossible forms. By evening, Ilyas lay sprawled on her back, every muscle screaming in protest. The ceiling swam above her as exhaustion set in. Her chest heaved with each breath, the suit now slick with sweat. "We expected better," Chen's disappointment cut deep. "Your file suggested actual talent. Perhaps we were mistaken. Report back tomorrow 06:00 hours. Try not to embarrass yourself further. Dismissed." Ilyas stumbled to the locker room, legs wobbling like a newborn colt. They were right. She was failing spectacularly. But something deep inside refused to give up. She stripped off the damp suit, examining the high-tech fabric that allowed these transformations. "I'm taking you home," she muttered, stuffing the suit in her bag instead of returning it to storage. "Need more practice." Ilyas spent hours attempting the simplest transformations that night in her tiny apartment. A ball. A cube. A cylinder. Each attempt left her gasping and trembling, but slowly, ever so slowly, control came. By dawn, she could hold a shape for almost a minute. The next morning, sore but determined, Ilyas had just managed a semi-stable ball transformation when her apartment door burst open. "Hey girl, can I borrow some-" The shock of the intrusion shattered her concentration. In pure panic, she instinctively compressed herself into the tightest black sphere possible, rolling helplessly into a corner. "Holy shit!" her neighbor gasped. "What kind of weird costume is that? And how did you..." Ilyas's rubber consciousness screamed internally. Shit shit shit. No civilians were ever supposed to witness MIMIC tech. Her training file specifically emphasized maintaining absolute secrecy. "It's uh..." her voice wavered through the latex. "Special effects! For a... performance art piece..." Her neighbor's perfectly manicured fingers stroked the sphere again, sending involuntary shivers through Ilyas's transformed state. "Bullshit. I've never seen anything like this. Some kind of new tech?" Trapped. If she changed back now, it would only confirm the impossible. If she stayed a ball... fuck, those touches were making it hard to
