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Wilhelm regretted taking this quest. It was only slimes, he had foolishly thought, how hard could clearing slimes from a cave be? Evidently, too hard. Most of the slimes lay oozing their goop around him, not moving even as he thrust his sword into their comrade. For its part, though, the large, blue slime didn’t seem to be much affected by his blows.
Stupid fucking quest. Stupid fucking innkeeper. Stupid fucking town. Punctuating his thoughts with a slash of his blade, he reveled in the monster taking damage. If it hadn’t been for that damnable innkeeper woman, he would be sitting comfortably on the road, counting his gold as he completed odd jobs here and there. She had been so insistent on upcharging him for room and board and, when he called her out on it to the tune of seventy gold pieces, she said that he could get a discount.
And here he was, getting his discount. Wonderful. He was going to kill her when he got back.
This slime had to be one of the toughest slimes he had fought against. The monster healed from wounds quickly enough that even a spare moment left him straining to make up for lost ground. Even better, a monster that had likely gained this territory through its prowess in battle, rather than anything simpler to defeat. No, he couldn’t fight against a rat swarm or something like that, that would be too simple. Instead, his morning and afternoon would be spent trudging all the way out to a cave in the middle of nowhere, fight a slime in its own territory, and then trudge all the way back, now freshly covered in slime goop.
Ugh. He was disgusting, splattered in goo of all shades of blue. It had been from the slime’s spawn, he had to assume, judging from how capable this one specimen was, and it had an unfortunate side effect of distracting him. It had to be some sort of effect for the monster, as every new splatter of goop had carried with it a fresh wave of a dizzying, almost nauseating feeling.
It had mostly faded, though, and as Wilhelm fought valiantly onwards, the slime was cleaved in two, one half much larger than the other. That seemed to put a dent in its plans, if slimes were capable of making plans. Unfortunately, it also showered him in a fresh wave of that ooze. Wherever it touched him, Wilhelm’s skin seemed to tingle and shimmer under its new coat of translucent paint, and his thoughts ground to a halt.
What had he been doing again? His sword was so heavy in his hands. Did he really need to hold it up so much, or could he just step back a little, let it drop to the ground with a resounding ‘thunk’, and go back the way he came? Surely, no one would be coming out here to actually check and see if he’d killed the slime—the worst that would happen was a couple of farmers lost a cow here and there. Slimes weren’t exactly known for being roving packs of predators, after all, and there was only so much fuss people could kick up about it.
No, no. That was silly. He had to finish what he started, even if it meant that he returned to the inn a horrible mess. He could always wash his clothes later, if need be.
Taking a deep breath, Wilhelm shook his head to clear it. He was fine, he just needed to take a moment and ride out the slime’s effects. Now in two parts, it healed much more slowly, the ability likely tied to its volume, or something like that. Usually, slimes didn’t grow to this size. Relishing in this opportunity for a breather, he let himself take the slime in, leaning on his sword as it flopped about, searching for its other half.
The thing was a big creature, especially big for a slime. It was nearly as tall as him, that and made of a sort of translucent blue ooze. A couple of bubbles, courtesy of his sword, had been trapped within it, and as it moved, they slowly but surely drifted to its top. The sight was mesmerizing. Really, Wilhelm had never been close enough to a slime to see anything like it, and he couldn’t help his curiosity as it moved about. When the smaller half, only up to around his calf, bumped into his ankle, though, he tried to kick it off as best he could.
He failed, because that was just how his luck seemed to be going today. Perfect, just perfect, he thought, though the words seemed to wash over him, rather than originate from within him, this was just perfect. If this was how he died, Wilhelm would never forgive himself. It was such as stupid way to die, and his guild would never let him live it down—slain by a slime, Wonderful.
As he tried to pull the sword out, the slime shuddered and the metal yielded to it. Snatching his hand back, Wilhelm watched in disbelief as the iron turned runny, absorbed by the ooze like it was nothing at all. It… it was disturbing, and while he kicked off the smaller slime, he stepped back, trying to put some space between him and the monster. Without his main weapon, he was more than helpless. He had aggressed a boss monster, and he would have to pay the price for his foolishness.
When his back hit the cave wall, Wilhelm fought to keep control of the situation. This was not going his way, not going his way at all. He could fix this—he could, he knew it—but there would not be a second chance. Any avenue for escape had been blocked off by the large, gelatinous half of the slime and, as he lashed out, shouting for it to leave him be, the smaller blue ooze trapped his leg.
The effect was instantaneous, like a bottle had been unstoppered. His thoughts clouded, mouth watering and body starting to stir under the monster’s touch. He hardly noticed the two slimes reunifying as the slick soaked into his skin, a tingly, prickling feeling that nearly drove him insane playing across his nerves. It was hard to focus on anything but it, though there were stirrings in his chest and stomach. The slime wanted something, and he was going to fight it all the way, though.
Thoughts adrift, he hardly realized that the slime had engulfed his lower body, quickly swallowing him. As the blue ooze closed over his head, Wilhelm fought hard, trying to surface again. This would be a death sentence, it would be the end of him, it would be… it would…
His train of thought trailed off as the interior of the slime proved unyielding, only seeming to make more contact against his skin. It was like pins and needles wherever it touched, but in a pleasant way. A foggy, relaxed feeling crept into his mind, and he found himself stopping his grand battle sooner, rather than later. On instinct, he breathed in, finding the fluid within as easy to breathe as air.
Breathing in was his undoing, though. Nestled deep within him, that strange substance worked its magic, and that wave of fogginess only strengthened. No. No, this was all wrong. He was supposed to be a strong adventurer, not a man so easily overpowered by a slime. It was going to digest him, it was going to kill him—it was a monster, after all. He was meant to kill monsters, and he was going to destroy this thing as soon as he got free of it, that was for certain. Just because it did a little hocus pocus with his nerves wouldn’t spare it the ring of his…
His…
It was getting harder to string thoughts together, and to his horror, Wilhelm saw a tent forming in his pants. Traitorous body, this was no time for this. It strained against his underthings and trousers, enough that it ached. Just because he was in a warm, wet, comfortable space, didn’t mean that it was time to undress and let himself screw his brains out. He had to have some restraint. Then again, would he really? It wasn’t as if anyone was going to come looking for him anytime soon, and this slime wasn’t going to be letting him go until he managed to fight his way out, so what was the harm in saving his energy, in recouping his losses and—
And what was he thinking? Those were ridiculous thoughts!
As he fought, though, he noticed his boots first. Namely, his lack of boots. Whatever substance this slime was made out of, his clothing seemed to melt away when it came into contact with it, slipping away into nothing. A new fear entered Wilhelm’s struggling. He wanted to get out of this thing—no, he needed to get out before there were worse effects. What would that do to his body if that was what happened to his clothing?
All too soon, he was completely bare inside the slime, still straining and failing to get free. He had worked himself breathless before long and, as he summoned the energy to fight more, the ooze shuddered, seeming to release something into its interior. Oh. Oh no. Fighting to get away from it was fruitless and, without meaning to, Wilhelm found himself breathing in the sickeningly saccharine goop around him.
It clouded his thoughts, the substance entering his lungs, and it made it that much harder to think rationally. He needed to get out, yes, and he needed to fight off the slime if he wanted to live, but it wasn’t harming him per se. It was holding him, suspending him within it, making him feel like sparks were sliding across his body, but it wasn’t harming him.
Mind far too foggy to think, Wilhelm let out a soft moan at the sensation of the slime on his bare skin. Why had he been fighting this again? It only wanted him to feel good, it wanted to make it feel so nice for him. There was no need to fight it off, it was helping him. Helping. That was nice. With a smile, Wilhelm let himself be manhandled into a better position, the muscles of the slime spreading his legs and tipping him onto his stomach. Why it wanted him like this, he didn’t know, but he couldn’t bring himself to care.
The ooze around his cock pulsed, and he let out a squeak at how good it felt. Between the tingling sensations all over his body and the caress of the monster, he couldn’t bring himself to think of anything else. It slowly squeezed him, urging him to rut against its interior. As hard as it was to move, it was harder to ignore the need building up in Wilhelm’s stomach.
When it, danced a tendril around his ass, though, he tried to wriggle away. That didn’t seem to please the monster, though, and it redoubled its efforts. The ooze around his arms and legs hardened to a tight grip, and it remained firm. A note of panic drifted through his mind but, as a new wave of that warm, sparkly feeling washed over him, Wilhelm learned he couldn’t think of much else aside from the need in his gut. His cock was so hard it hurt, straining against the ooze, and even in this position, he couldn’t help but whine and hump the translucent goo.
It tried again, and Wilhelm was unable to squirm away. At the tendril entered him, the way eased with slick that felt absolutely heavenly, he let out a deep groan, his eyes sliding closed as he let his head hang. The deeper it went into him, the more impossibly hard he got, the slick seeming to activate every nerve in his body. He wanted more. He wanted much more.
Pushing back against the tendril, he tried to coax it to hurry up, to pump him full of that slick and pound him like… like what? Wilhelm wasn’t supposed to like these sorts of things, he was an adventurer, not some monster’s whore. The moment of clarity, though, was overshadowed by the total, all-encompassing desire to get off. To get well and truly fucked. It wasn’t his thoughts in his head, but he didn’t care. He didn’t care in the slightest.
As he moaned, it coated his tongue in a slimy film, pushing a matching tendril past his lips and down his throat. Wilhelm didn’t have a moment to fight it before it was pumping that same strange slick into his stomach, too deep for him to resist swallowing. It was… sweet. Sweet and cloying and distracting. His cock was already leaking precum all over the interior of the ooze, but it seemed happy about that, eagerly gobbling it up.
With a whimper, Wilhelm let himself be suspended like this, his ass stuffed to the brim and his mouth full to capacity, already starting to drool around the wide tendril. When the one in his ass started to move, though, he only barely bit back a noise of shock. It was like everything in his body was alight with sensation, every minute motion like ecstasy against his skin.
It started slow, but already, Wilhelm was arching back into it, begging it for more. Every new motion sent sparks sliding down his spine, a perfect mixture of heady need and desperation. It sucked at his cock, kissing and lapping it to hardness easily. He didn’t have it in him to resist, not when it tweaked his nipples and insistently traced along the inside of his thighs. Glancing between his legs, Wilhelm dimly noted that his cock was flushed and needy, and when the slime traced up his balls, he relaxed enough for it to quicken its pace.
Pounding into him, it drank in all of his moans and cries, muffled against the gag in his mouth. Its tendril slapped against his ass over and over, and when it brushed up against his prostate, Wilhelm let out a moan unlike any other, loud in its desperation. Again. He wanted that again.
As he asked, he received. The slime heeded his urging and obliged him, pumping into his ass harder and stroking his cock insistently. He was going to cum like this, he was going to spill all over the slime’s interior and make a mess of his stomach. Wilhelm didn’t have the chance to be embarrassed before the thought was taken entirely out of his hands.
The slime took yet more control, folding him in half so that it could reach deeper inside him, coating his insides with that wonderful, warm fluid that made him feel like he was floating on cloud nine. The more it fucked him, the less Wilhelm thought. There was nothing to think about, really. He was taking pleasure from this thing, and it would give him everything he asked for and more. He was here to feel good, and it felt beyond good.
Burying itself deep within him, the slime curled up against that wonderful spot inside him, rubbing it gently as it milked his cock, toying with his nipples. Hair falling into his face, Wilhelm’s muscles tightened as he humped it as best as he could in his restrained position. This was… this was everything he had ever dreamed of and more. He was being taken care of, he was being treated with such gentleness. The slime cared about his pleasure, cared about getting him off.
As the slime rubbed little circles against his prostate, Wilhelm let out little, muffled whimpers, uncaring that he was naked, uncaring that he was hard enough that his cock ached. This was perfection. This was the heavenly gates. He had died, and he had achieved everything religious scholars sang the praises of.
With each passing moment, thinking seemed harder and harder. Was it not enough to just be a slut? Why couldn’t he take pleasure like this, reveling in everything the slime was willing to give and enjoying it to its fullest extent? What was stopping him from staying like this, from rutting into the slime so hard he couldn’t remember his own name? It wasn’t as if he had anything pressing, the memories of why he had come here were so distant and faded, there was an inn, a guild hall, a woman, but the roads were blurry and the faces blank. He didn’t have the wherewithal to be concerned.
He was close, so close. Wilhelm was going to burst, that was how much he needed to cum right then and there. Letting out a whine, he communicated his need to the slime. For its part, it understood, redoubling its efforts in his ass, pressing against that sweet little spot in him so perfectly that Wilhelm was panting into the tendril in his mouth. He wanted this. He wanted this so badly, he was going to die. Breathing hard, he moaned out his approval, his skin alight with sensations.
Arching his back, he came with a cry, his thoughts leaving his body with it. There was no need for him to think, that he knew well enough. Slimes didn’t think, and he was in a slime, so why would he need to think, too? That was just silly. So silly. If he wanted the slime to be happy, he would stop thinking.
In front of his eyes, he saw his cum soak into the slime, fading into nothingness as it was absorbed. He had provided for it, that was the only thing he could understand as the tendril in his ass started again, massaging against his prostate so perfectly. He had been good. He wanted to be good again. Letting out a muffled moan, he whined as his oversensitive skin continued to be stroked and sucked, pushed to his limits and beyond that.
He would please his slime, that was certain enough. That was his task. He was here to feed and to please it, and that he could do. Who needed… whatever he had come here for. Where even was here? There was no need to see beyond the translucent blue walls of the slime, and thus he wouldn’t. All around them, there were whispers in his head, urging him to relax, to be calm, to obey, and he wanted nothing more than that. He could obey, he would obey. Perfectly, mindless, perfectly brainless, Wilhelm let his thoughts be fucked right out of his head, moaning loudly around the tendril in his mouth. He would be perfect.