The car spun around the corner, and straight towards me. I leaped for safety just as the driver saw me and swerved the other way. It caught me a glancing blow on the right hip, which developed into a large bruise, but there was no lasting damage, perhaps partly due to the protection factor of the rubber shorts I had been wearing.
Within a few weeks, the marks had all but gone, apart from a small black spot right where the impact had been. I thought nothing of it except to try to wash it off, but it wouldn't go.
Another week, and the mark was larger - about a half an inch across. And quite black and hard. I looked it up in my medical encyclopaedia, but there was no mention. It feels quite harmless, but smells a little familiar...
A week on. It's spreading. It's down to the top of my leg, up to my waist, and working around my body. And I was right - it's rubber. Somehow the impact of the car on the rubber has embedded it into my skin, and it's growing. I know I should get it checked out by a doctor, but he'd just kill it off. And already I can feel the gentle restriction as I walk. I'll get it seen to if it starts to get offensive.
Next week. I haven't felt my upper right leg for two days. From knee to armpit has been covered by a thin layer of rubber, and it's right around my waist, bonded to my skin. But unlike real rubber, it lets my skin breathe. When I sweat, it comes out through the surface, shining it up. The look is spectacular, but not as good as the feel - it's permanently pulling me in, trying to straighten me when I sit and pulling me back when I walk. I've had to wear thicker shirts at work, so no-one can see my fascinating affliction.
After another week, my head, hands and toes are still clear of the welcome invader, but the entire rest of my body is encased. Every move I make is now transmitted through my body by the tight outer layer. I can still go to the toilet, making use of small holes the rubber hasn't yet covered up, though it's not easy. I can't feel the clothes I'm wearing, so while I sit at my desk at work I can easily imagine that I'm naked and everyone can see my new skin. As long as it doesn't spread any more, I will try for as long as I can not to see a doctor about it - it's just too thrilling a sensation to lose.
I've had to phone in sick to work, but it was difficult forming the words with lips covered in rubber. And keeping my eyes open is tricky with such heavy eyelids. I'm now completely rubberised, and the sense of restriction is incredible. Every act I have ever taken for granted is now a real effort - walking, eating, breathing, even looking. Never with suits and masks have I achieved an effect as total as this.
I will last out for as long as possible before phoning for an ambulance, but by that time I expect my mouth will be the only opening I will have left. And the wait for it to arrive will be the longest and most intense thrill ever.