Slime Study Chapters 1+2

The following excerpts are from my recent study of slimes and related creatures. These come from field notes, journal entries, and other such writings.

Three days have passed since I had entered the city of Anteronia, fabled for its understanding and celebration of all things erotic. Little did I know, however, how dangerous a city can be when one is used to live in the wilderness of the Wildlands. A trip to the Temple District saw me and my friends separated, yet I had the distinct pleasure of exchanging techniques with one of the locals, a very vocal harpy.

Too bad the local authorities, the Judicators, had no intention of allowing my new acquaintance and me to know each other more than carnally, and they gave chase. If it wasn’t for the surprise feeding of a local slime named Eshere, I would have been caught, and then, I wouldn’t have any means to find myself the demonologist I need to free myself of the pest that is the possessing demonic spirit, Zelb.

Oh, with the melodrama already. Can’t you give it a rest, Tik? This town is great, and you’ve found yourself quite good friends indeed. This house wants to fuck you all day long, and your host wants nothing to do with sex. Now, that’s what I call a challenge worth accepting

I am not going to force someone to enjoy something they don’t care for. I cannot derive pleasure from someone that is unwilling to give it. What is even the point of that?

I could tell you, but it looks like your chair is getting a little frisky right now…

More research awaits, it seems. I’ll compile my thoughts on this wonderous creature postha- [Note, the rest of this page is far too splotched to transcribe. I don’t recall, for the life of me, what I was going to say. Instead, enjoy this reminiscence from my time at home.]

There have been many slimes that lived in the caves back home in the caverns of the Dragon’s Lair kobold tribe. They are mindless, consuming things, devoid of color and of a purpose beyond their own survival. I recall, once, an encounter with one that proved one part dangerous and other parts intriguing. If only I knew then what I know now.

Quiquan and I worked for Tikkit, master trapmaker. Our job, then, was to develop new traps to use on outsiders. On this particular journey, we were assigned the task to find nonlethal means of incapacitating adventurers and ridding them of their valuable gold.

I had never seen eye-to-eye with Quiquan, the light blue kobold always had her head in the moss and never listened to anyone else, but it was Tikkit’s orders that I follow her, and follow her I did.

“I’m telling you, Tik Tik,” Quiquan began, hopping onto platforms of rock over a pit, “the ancient ruins beneath the caverns are ripe with designs, both natural and artificial. If we can find something there and become ‘inspired’ by it, Master Tikkit will love it for sure.

“Just be careful, Quiquan,” I had told her. “It’s dangerous down this deep. Burrowers are sure to make their way to this place. They could really be-”

“Oh, you’re just paranoid,” Quiqan said. And with that, she hopped to the far end of the ravine. I had kept my eyes on the jumps I would have to make, so it was a few moments before I realized that she had gone silent.

When I glanced up, there was Quiquan, suspended in the middle of the tunnel. She was frozen, her limbs stuck in the middle of her jump. The only movement that came from her was the slight rotation of her body. I watched this display for a few moments, wracking my mind on what it could possibly be. But then, I noticed it—that sickeningly sweet smell that came from only one source—a slime.

As if to confirm my suspicion, the leathers of Quiquan’s belt and pouch shrank and warped, dissolving before my eyes. When she finally faced me, her eyes were wide in terror, her mouth agape.

There are many slimes in the darkness, and one cannot see them before it is too late. The tell-tale signs of all-too-clean tunnels were not something we had the comfort of knowing here. The only path across between tunnels must have been eroded by this creature, and at that point, I had to think fast before my clumsy companion was eroded away down to the bone.

When Quiquan’s pouch dissolved, various tools and items spilled out for me to see. That’s when I thought of my own equipment. Unlike my companion, I had dabbled a bit in the arts of chemicals. I pulled out one that was quite intriguing, but one I had not found a use for yet.

For years, kobolds with stomach issues ate a certain white stone found in the caverns. It was said to have a healing effect against the fire burning inside. But the most interesting part about these rocks is that I had never ever seen a slime traverse those tunnels. My inquisitive mind mixed with the communal protection of kobold kind at that moment, and I took that stone and chucked it across the ravine with all of my strength.

The stone stopped in mid-air, only to slowly sink through the first few inches of the creature’s outer membrane. What happened next was a sight to behold, indeed. The stone fizzed and foamed, calcifying the slime until it turned into a giant wall of stony material, completely covering the edge and the tunnel beyond.

I had not thought of such a potential, and I scrambled across the ravine as quick as I could, hoping that my mistake hadn’t cost the life of a fellow trapmaker. After all, if Quiquan got herself killed, then Master Tikkit would reprimand me for sure.

As I approached the final jump, the material shifted and crumbled, and Quiquan’s head poked out. She gasped, breathing roughly for a moment  before she locked her eyes upon me. “Are you trying to kill me!?” She snapped.

Hands on my hips, I responded to her in kind. “You’re doing a good enough job of that, yourself. Can you get free?”

Quiquan struggled and shivered, and finally, she shook her head. “N… no. It’s tougher deeper in. We need tools.”

“Alright, then, I’ll go get some help. It might take a while.” I spun around and skipped back across. Now, the one getting in trouble would be Quiquan.

Wow, Tik Tik, that story of yours was fucking boring! No wonder you didn’t understand the importance of slimes in the erotic arts. Yeesh, you and your friends took down Estrasa, and she didn’t send a single of those things at you? She really dropped the ball there, didn’t she? I’m going to take this pen of yours, and I’m going to tell your readers a really sexy story. None of this analysis shit. Let’s go!

In a small city far from the dens of vice of Anteronia, there lived an alchemist named Jeremiah Stalish. Now, Stalish had been creating all sorts of wonderful brews—cures for ailments that would not plague the world for years, riches for himself, and the most potent drugs that even give demons a buzz. But, there was one thing he was never able to do. That’s when he turned toward the book that gave him the incantations to summon me.

Sitting at the demonic circle, Stalish raised the cup of blood up high and chanted the incantations “Venite daemonium, et vocavi te in nomine tuo, Zelb——!”

With a flash of hellfire, my wondrous material form emerged. Physical shape—it is the most wondrous feeling there is. Really, there is no feeling without it. So, as soon as I manifested, I set to work, feeling the smooth curve of my body and letting out a luxurious moan.

Stalish, meanwhile, kept up a grim resolve, even at the sight of my magnificence, but I could tell that while he was strong in mind, his body was weak, so weak, so brimming with lust. I placed my finger upon my lips and leaned in, letting him see my flesh and desire it, but, he did not falter in his resolve as he instead spoke his desires to me.

“Demon, Zelb—, you are under my command, now.”

“Oooh, yes, Master… only because you did such a good job…” I purred. Of course, I was lying. His syntax was so rudimentary, but he was cute, so I played along. “What is it you wish of a little demon like me?” An understatement to be sure. He liked his women busty, and that’s the form I took for him.

“I desire the means of procreation,” he says “but no woman has been able to take my seed.”

I floated back, spreading my legs and sliding my wettened fingers down my glistening body. “Oooh, so you wish to take me, master, as mother to your child?”

He shook his head,so I crossed my legs and pouted. “Then, what the fuck do you want?”

“What I want from you-” he said, standing up and letting his robes fall down before him, revealing his thin and nude form. Still a cutie, but that dong, Tik. Oh, sorry, saliva on the page. Where was I?

 “What I want is to make for me the perfect mate, one who will take my seed and create a perfect heir to my name.”

That was when I had my idea. Oh, Tik Tik, my beautiful host, all the things I used to be able to do. Life got boring after a while, but the fun times came whenever some simpleton thought to take advantage of my power. “Alright, master, please relax as I give you what you desire. I just… need to make contact with you…” I held my hands out, beckoning him towards a warm embrace.

He brushed aside the salt used to hold me in place within the trap, breaking the spell on my physical form. It was then I came upon him, spinning around his small frame before I pressed my body up against his, bountiful breasts squishing against his small back. My hands wrapped around his body, sharpened nails teasing at his smooth flesh. He was of a impish stock, weak and hairless, but with a powerful mind. “Your will is strong,” I whispered to him, hot breath brushing at his ear, “But let us see just how strong…”

With that, I slipped my hands down, fingers wrapping around his length as my other hand made quick work to fondle upon his balls. This is when my demonic magic began. Lubrication is of no concern for a demon , as my touch instantly made him leak. He provided us with all we needed to let my hand slide up and down his shaft. The more I stroked, the more he oozed, and the more he blushed, breaking down his facade of control. I wondered then if he knew that I had complete domination over him and not the other way around, but the game was too good to ask and risk breaking the illusion.

He would answer me, in his own way, thrusting forward, fucking my hand like the desperate little whore he had become.

They all think they can control it—their natural desires, perverted to something I can control. Why mortals try to think what they are doing is giving up their minds, their very souls, for the base pleasure is beyond me. I may be lust incarnate, yet the power that wells up in mortals as I open their hearts to my temptation—that is true power.

White pearly cum dripped from between my fingers and oozed from his cock head, sprinkling the stone floor with more jism than any man should be able to hold. His groans were a mix of surprise and pleading, his hips frantically moving of their own accord.

That face he made the moment he reached orgasm is etched upon my mind. That was the moment I had won. The moment he gave up being a learned scholar and became nothing but my little slut. Even if it was just for that moment, he remembered it for the rest of his days.

The eruption that resulted was a spectacle as well. I let go of him and let his cock explode all on its own. Standing back, I gave myself a little taste, bringing my stained fingers to my lips, my tongue wiggling between the cracks as he fell to his knees, gallons upon gallons of orgasm working through him, splashing all upon the floor until he was completely dried out, his cock heaving with the need to make more, but there was no more.

“There… your heir,” I said to him, giving him a quick bow.