Slime of Your Life

Written By D.

As Suggested By Nicki

Marcc sat in the doctor's office on the one-hundred-fifth floor of the All Medical Center, the largest medical facility in all New Mureybet. To have a universal health care system was quite an accomplishment, considering the forty different species of intelligent life form that inhabited New Mureybet. This didn't include the myriad of half-breed and quarter-breed species, of which Marcc was unwittingly a member. A half-elf with no training in magic, he came to New Mureybet to study law. Studying law among the seeming chaos of spells and airships of this city... it was as if they were mocking his desire to bring order to his life.

The office was sterile, mostly whites and baby blues, a reclining chair he expected to see in a dentist's office. The arms and legs could be magically enchanted to accommodate the shortest goblin to the tallest minotaur. The default setting was fine for his six-foot frame. He tried to relax, hearing the gentle hum of the time crystal on the desk.

Marcc leaned into his hand, his slightly stubby ear resting into his palm, and he stared at the door, waiting for the doctor to arrive. He heard a strange noise, like the sound of pouring something down the sink. He looked over to the sink and pointed his ear near the drain. The sound didn't appear to be coming from there.

Marcc turned around suddenly as he heard the pipes in the ceiling rattle as something moved through them. There was a threaded corner pipe hanging from the ceiling that dropped directly into the center of the room. A large purple-pink drop formed at the outlet of the pipe, hanging like the tail of a kite. The drop became a flow of purpleish ichor. As it hit the floor, it didn't splatter like water or oil, but aggregated into a tall stack like loose gelatin.

The stack rose into a feminine shape, just above five feet tall and with all the womanly features one would expect, arms, legs, hair, a face, breasts... but no clothing. The woman's face was delicately shaped, with her 'hair' a darker purple and patches of dimmer pink emphasizing the whites of her eyes and teeth. She shook about as she regained her solid, yet still translucent state.

“Sorry I'm late.” The pink woman said finally. “Traffic. You know how it is.”

Marcc was silent for a moment, uncertain. “Are you the doctor?” He asked finally.

“Yes, sir.” She answered, walking towards the sink, leaving pink footprints of goo behind her. “I'm Dr. Sylvia Glasse. Everyone calls me Sly, so you can, too.” She retrieved a thermometer and gestured to coax Marcc to return to his seat. Marcc looked at the sticky footprints she'd left behind.

“Oh, excuse me.” Sly's legs knitted back together into a single column of purple goo and spread out along the floor, absorbing the footprints. She pulled herself back together and her body became opaque. “Sorry. I haven't had my coffee. Would you like some?”

“I don't drink coffee.” Marcc said. “Never had it growing up, so...”

“Suit yourself.” She found the coffee maker and poured the decantur into her mug. She held the mug by the handle and thrust it into her abdomen, pulling it out a second later, empty. She shivered, her body wobbling a bit, and she returned to her opaque form. “Now, let's take your temperature.”

“Is this necessary?” Marcc leaned back in his seat as Sly climbed into his lap, menacing the silver end of the thermometer at him.

“Trust me. I'm a doctor.” Sly said, bringing the thermometer closer.

“Ow! That was my eye.”

She blinked. “I knew that.” She dropped in his mouth.

“Is this really necessary?” He spoke, the thermometer dancing in the corner of his mouth like an ostentatious toothpick.

“Please don't talk.” Sly said. Marcc kept quiet as she fussed around for a minute, looking at a chart. She removed the thermometer. “Ninety-nine degrees.” Her brow knitted, concerned.

“That's perfectly normal.” Marcc protested. “Are you sure you're a doctor? You don't seem to know much about anatomy. After all... you...”

“Don't have body parts?” Sly finished his sentence before he could. “Then how come you're staring at me? After all, it's all the same stuff, right?” Her hands went under her breasts and shook them up and down, wobbling more beautifully than any fleshy breast he'd ever seen. “Anyway, you should take off your clothes.”

“Why?” Marcc looked suspicious.

Sly looked over her shoulder at him. “Because I don't wash out.”

Marcc stood and undid his shirt, emptied his pockets and removed his shoes and trousers. He stood before her in his boxers. Sly looked at him expectantly. “I don't wash out of boxers, either.” She insisted. He dropped his boxers and set them aside.

“Not bad.” She commented. “Bigger than most full elves I see. Their problem is they don't have much sex, so over successive generations, their genitals shrink up from atrophy.”

“What successive generations?” Marcc asked. “Full elves almost never have children anymore. There's only so many immortal elves their society can support, now that the wars are over.”

“Do you want to feel good about your penis or not?” Sly put her hand on her hip.

Marcc didn't answer. He shrugged, and Sly pushed him back into the chair. She sat on top of him, her cold flesh making him shiver. She walked two fingers up his bare chest and rubbed his lower lip. “Give me a taste.” She whispered.

Hesitantly, Marcc wrapped his lips around her fingertip and sucked a little of her off onto his tongue. She had the taste of jam made from an unknown fruit, so saccharine, it would probably give him a headache.

“It's really sweet.” He answered.

“I eat a lot of candy.” She confessed. “Now, let's warm up a bit.” She kissed him on the lips, and they proceeded to make out, his hands sliding across her mostly solid form. Her flesh had the gentle tacky feel of a gumdrop on a humid day. His mouth opened and bit gently on her lower lip, which parted from her form as easily as biting through a marshmallow.

He started, spit out the tiny glob into his hand and looked at her. Sly's lip was already 'healed.' She wiped up the severed lip and it returned to being part of her. “You can't hurt me, silly.” Her legs loosened into less distinct appendages, more like tentacles than legs. They wrapped around his bare abdomen with strong moist suction holding them together. “Now give it to me.”

They kissed a little longer, her body growing gently stickier as they kissed. Marcc stood from the chair and brought her up against the wall. She splattered like an enormous water balloon, leaving him and the wall covered in thin purple gelatin. He screamed in shock, slipping on the goo and landing on his rear.

Almost as fast as she had shattered, Sly's body pulled down from the walls and his body and reformed into her humanoid shape. “Gotcha.” She mocked.

Marcc growled. It was embarrassing enough to have to go to the doctor as an elf, but he didn't remember the last doctor visit involving any pranks. Sly pranced off and pulled out a condom from a drawer.

“What's that for?” Marcc asked. “I'm almost completely positive you can't get pregnant at all, certainly not with me.”

“Trust me. This makes the whole thing neater.” Sly answered. “Besides, then I can't go up your peehole.”

Even though he was sure real doctors didn't use the term 'peehole,' Marcc didn't much like the sound of that. Holding the rolled condom between her fingers, she threw her hand at his erect member. His unit speared her palm, unrolling the condom with the inside of her arm. She retracted it, and the condom was on perfectly. It was clearly not the first time she'd done this.

“OK, no more games. Let's do this.” She pushed him back into the chair and climbed aboard his lap, parting her lips gently and accepting him inside her. She wobbled a bit as he fit completely inside her.

“You're cold...” Marcc shivered as he felt the gelatinous woman bound merrily on him. He put his hands on her buttocks to help her with the riding, but his hands started to sink inside them. In fact, he couldn't find a place on her where she was staying entirely solid. She grew more translucent, and her hair facsimile was starting to drip and loosen.

“You want to change positions?” She huffed, her breasts jiggling looser than before.

“Does it make a difference?” Marcc asked.

“I mean, I could make a place for you to do me up the ass. In fact, we're doing that.” She shifted forward a few inches. “There, now this counts as anal.”

“I've never had such arbitrary sex before.” Marcc admitted, still pumping himself into her as far as he could. Surely, nobody could really hurt her this way, no matter how endowed.

Sly moaned and panted, which was really weird, because he wasn't certain that her species actually respired at all. Her arms grew droopy and lost their features. She wrapped them around his shoulder and back, making two solid ropes that held him in place. Marcc's hands were permanently covered in purple slime now, as he tried to find a place to put them, they got stuck in her thighs, which drew them down and immobilized them.

The back of the chair fell down to a horizontal position and Marcc watched as the rapidly melting woman continued to ride him. It looked like she was constantly trying to restructure herself, but her goo kept slipping away as she lost her focus and felt the waves of pleasure wobble through her. Every thrust now made her body jiggle.

Marcc realized it now. The friction and arousal had made her warm. That's why she was melting. And she was certainly was now. He could endure the pounding only for so long before his head craned back and he came into the condom. Her slime holding the base of the condom still, he filled the condom until it inflated to the size of a human breast implant. (The multiracial society made this specification necessary, but few other species appreciate the breast as much as the human.)

Sly released her grip on his appendages and he went limp. She used a few interesting movements of her ichor to pull the condom free from him, twist the end and tie it shut. She didn't spill a drop. Except for her sweet drops of goo she had trickling from her warmed body. Those drops were everywhere.

Sly stood up before Marcc and collected herself from the floor. “Do you feel better?” She asked.

Marcc caught his breath. “I do.”

“I'm glad you stopped by today.” She cooed. “But I've got another client coming in soon, so unless you like to watch, you should probably move on out of here.”

Marcc started to get dressed, not seeing a shower to clean the thin patina of stickiness from his skin, as if he'd melted a Popsicle over his entire body. As he put on his pants, he saw something floating around within Sly. Maybe it was her weakpoint, the mystical always-solid part that hunters would aim for to get experience point or whatever it was people who killed slimes were looking for. He hadn't noticed it before.

Pointing with his thin finger, he asked, “What is that?”

“Oh, that's the condom.” She said. “I'm keeping it safe.”

“What on earth for?” Marcc asked, then brought his hand to his forehead. “You know what? Don't answer that.” Sly went to the righthand wall and started opening circular portals along the wall. “And what are those?”

“You don't have glory holes in the elder forest?” Sly asked. “Sometimes, I get double-booked, so we have to do two at once. I just wish I could see the dwarf standing next to the minotaur in that other room. And the funny thing is...” Sly sidled over and whispered. “The dwarves are usually bigger.”

Dressed again, Marcc shook Sly's hand, not finding it gooey or tacky this time. “Thank you, doctor.”

“No problem.” Sly's body wobbled as he performed the handshake, holding her other hand above her stomach the way a bad actress holds the bottom of her fake pregnancy belly. “Whenever you need some relief, make an appointment and we'll do this again.”

“I think I shall.” Marcc nodded softly, and left.

He rode down the crowded oversized elevator to the ground floor and to the metro port before realizing... this wasn't the reason he came out to the medical center. If you'd told him to make an appointment to make love to a random jelly-girl, he probably wouldn't have done it.

And Marcc still couldn't hear out of his left ear.

Back in her office, one portal about two feet off the ground became occupied. Based on the bright orange public hair and the height of his chosen portal, Sly determined this was her next client, a dwarf fellow in everything but where it counts. She loosened her arm into a long tendril of goo and wrapping along the shaft like the stripe on a barber pole.

“Welcome, Mister...” Sly checked her clipboard. “The Slaughterer. Hope you're feeling better.”

Through the wall, she heard the distinct sound of ceramic tiles struck by horseshoes under great weight. Another portal opened up, about four feet off the ground, and out came a new penis.

The hidden shame of the minotaur was presented to her. Most think that the minotaurs, as half-bull chimeras, have a horse's stalwart and enviably large genitals. But an apple is not a orange, and a bull is not a horse. That part of the average minotaur was very human, disappointingly so.

Now, a centaur, on the other hand... well, she'd need her other hand.

“And welcome to you to, Mister... Thompson.” She wrapped her other arm around the minotaur erection, experiencing its heat and its nice musky taste. It wasn't all bad, of course. Her leg stretched behind her and retrieved two more condoms, the appropriate size for their species.

The first customer's sperm floating neatly inside her, protected within her 'belly,' with much more work to do...

Find a job you love and you'll never work a day in your life, as the human proverb went.

It's a good think nobody knew she wasn't really a doctor.

The day's end was indicated as her time crystal emanated some white-red energy that gave Sly the desire to leave the medical center in an slow and orderly fashion.

'Slow' would be easy. Floating inside her ichor were fifteen condoms of varying volumes, all tied off to prevent any leaks. The two closest in size, the two from a pair of virile werewolf brothers, were tucked into her breasts. Two more were in her ass, but the ogre's seed and the troll's seed were slightly different sizes. She padded the ogre's condom with a little more slime so her butt wasn't lopsided.

The rest were piled up against each other in her stomach. There was no disguising this adequately, so she let her stomach bulge with her payload. She squeezed into the elevator, pressed nicely into the warm chest of a handsome full elf. Why couldn't he visit her office sometime? It's not like she could give him a business card.

Someone crammed further into the elevator, and squished her deeper into him. From her flesh, there came an undignified pop and plop. The condom filled with goblin spunk had been pressed out of her slime and fallen between her legs.

The handsome elf gentleman noticed that. Sly put her foot over it and it was sucked into her leg, returning to the nest of balloons in her stomach. “Sorry.” She smiled.

Sly wasn't sure if he was uncomfortable because she was filled to capacity with balloons filled with sperm, or if it was typical racism against her kind. Sly was used to people underestimating her just because most people in this city killed loads of her kind before they were even Level 2. As one of the smallest represented minorities in New Mureybet, her family would probably appreciate it if she didn't act so weird and give them a bad reputation.

Once it reached the ground floor, Sly walked out of the cramped space of the elevator, down to the train station, and into a cramped train car. None of this was as convenient as 'taking the tube,' an opportunity left only to her. But she couldn't do it while bearing her important cargo.

Another thing that doesn't happen when going through the plumbing was the sensation of a goblin pawing her butt with the back of his hand. He'd probably play it off like it was an accident, but if not, she was ready for it.

On the second 'accidental' pass of his hand across her rear, her viscosity and adhesion had grown, now more like tar than jelly. The back of his hand was now stuck to her butt, with small strands of goo advancing up his hand. She shifted the parcels out of her rear, giving the hand more mass to get tangled in. The goblin cussed in his language, the sounds of which anyone learns quickly in this city. He brought his foot up onto her thigh and pulled on his arm, the leg choosing not to absorb his legs on purpose. Sly waited for the right moment, where he jerked as hard as he could, to free the hand, sending him tumbling between the legs of the other passengers.

She let a giggle slip out of her tightly held lips. She heard some chattering from the goblin, and felt a hand fall on her shoulder, much too big to be a goblin.

The hand spun her around to face him. A troll, the big brothers to the goblins. And like all big brothers, trolls hated goblins until someone else was delivering the beat down. Trolls were the largest metahuman you could expect on public transit, the cars just large enough to accommodate their average eight-foot height. This troll was deeply stooped to fit in here, possibly almost ten feet tall, definitely the biggest troll she'd ever seen.

“Can I help you?” Sly asked, letting her shoulder dissolve to be relieved of his grasp.

“You can't peek on gobleens like that.” The troll snarled, his tusks the primary reason for that typical troll accent. He wore gold caps over his lower tusks with gemstones embedded in them, a sash with a red thread added for every day of conquest, and a tattered loincloth that was meant to be some sort of kilt.

“He put his hand on my butt.” Sly pointed. “Which, by the way, it's all the same stuff, so you can touch me wherever you want. Just announce you're touching me. You don't even have to say please, not that there's a Goblin word for that.”

The goblin spoke with the high-pitched outrage that often came when they perceived they'd been wronged. The troll did not translate it. “You say you're sorry, or I'm going to splatter you all over thees car, little slime.”

A few bystanders backed away. One gallant centaur trotted over and tried to part the pair of future scufflers, but Sly brushed him away politely. “I've got this, I swear.” She said with a smile. He backed up, and Sly and the troll faced off.

With a gentle move of her lips, Sly spit a tiny wad of purple goo that struck the goblin right on the tip of his nose.

And the troll swung his fist down on top of Sly, slamming down like an enormous hammer, the beads and teeth woven into his bracers clattering about as they made contact.

And Sly was still standing.

To explain the biology of what most vulgarly called 'slimes' would be difficult. A summary of their abilities would be to change their shape by controlling their density, viscosity and other qualities of fluid. In an instant, Sly regimented all of her body into a solid sheet of matter. This troll had just slammed his fist into something slightly harder than the average boulder.

A wound appeared on the troll's fist, and black blood started to trickle between the broken knuckles. “You would have hurt yourself less if I'd just let you hit the floor of the train.” She snarled stiffly, allowing herself to take her less rigid form. Pulling her matter into such a form caused most of her precious orbs of semen to drop at her feet. She gathered them up as rapidly as she could, several tendrils wrapping them about and pulling them back into her abdomen.

The troll scowled at her, and looked at his broken hand. “I underestimated you.” He said.

“Did you think a 'little slime' that actually make it out of the low-level forest wouldn't be able to defend herself?” Sly said, adjusting the position of her packages.

“Forgive my impertinence, leetle one.” The troll apologized. “I will not make such a mistake again.”

“Apology accepted.” She shrugged, wobbling a bit to shake the troll blood off her face. The goblin screeched at him, apparently wanting the fight to continue. “What about him?”

The troll picked up the goblin in his surviving hand and put him on his shoulder like a parrot. “He will get over it.” And they moved to the back of the car, the goblin shaking his tiny fist and cussing impotent threats at her.

Sly counted the condoms inside her again. Fifteen. She hadn't lost any of them. But now she had to find that centaur again. It was a handsome lad centaur with a vest and a shaved chin, unlike most of his kind.

“You were really going to fight that guy to protect me?” She asked.

“If I had to.” The centaur nodded. “But it was evidently not necessary.”

“I still appreciate it.” She set her hand on his horsey breast and patted it, feeling the warmth coming from this handsome...

“Do you have a condom?” Sly whispered to him.

The centaur looked about, and they trotted together to the lavatory. The brave centaur was prepared, though he could never put on condoms by himself for obvious reasons. Birth control was an entirely new concept to centaurkind following their assimilation into the city, along with barbershops and trousers.

Spread out on the lavatory floor, Sly was getting pounded mercilessly by the chivalrous centaur. Sly tried to protect her other condoms from him, but there was only so much room she had inside her. He was afraid his powerful thrusts would break one of them.

Sly turned her head around to face him without moving the rest of her body, a startling and unerotic image. She suggested a new position. The centaur gentleman was on his back now, and Sly was atop him. It could only be called 'riding' by anyone who didn't know the first thing about horses. His hooves kicked in little circles like the legs of an upturned spider. She started to feel herself loosen again, as her arms and hair started to drip about the floor.

Sly stretched out her arms to hold his hooves, and two further extensions behind her to hold his rear legs. She rocked them around as she continued riding him, her goo growing so loose, her arms dangled like loose clotheslines.

The centaur finally released himself into the condom, filling it like she knew he would, until it was the largest balloon inside her by far, like a hot dinosaur egg floating freely in her system. She tied it off once he was satisfied and moved it into her abdomen. It would be big enough to imply a pregnant belly look all by itself.

She collected her droplets, helped the nice centaur up to his hooves and planted a sweet berry-flavored kiss on his lips before she sauntered off.

Sixteen, she thought. Not a bad day at all.

The centaur's heart fluttered. The sex he was used to, obviously. The joke was that once archery became obsolete, centaurs could no longer say that was what they were best known for. But that kiss... that sort of intimacy was mostly absent from his society. That kiss would be what he would remember this day, and what would make his heart beat harder.

That and why in the world was this woman sequestering semen, anyway?

Only one elevator stood between Sly and her apartment now, and thankfully, she was in this one alone. New Mureybet at large was not ready for a woman like Sly, even if she wasn't eccentric. And what slime that chose a life outside the low-level forest would not be eccentric?

Sly reached her front door and brushed some of the dirt and dust that always accumulated on her “feet” as she walked through the city. If she didn't do this, she'd eventually be filled with straw wrappers, pebbles and cigarette butts. Then, the only way to get clean would be to pass through a thin wire strainer. That could always be fun, but it was easier to stay clean in the first place. She could hold all the strange metahuman semen in her without the use of condoms, but the simpler solution prevailed.

With no purse to hold keys, Sly crept her foot under the tiny space between the bottom of the door and the floor. Pulling her foot back upwards and shaping it into a hand, she opened the doorknob from the other side and walked in.

Sly lived in a one-bedroom apartment with minimum décor and amenities. It had a television watch and a bucket to watch television in, but not much else in the apartment served her any use. Most of that was for her roommate.

Spread out on the couch, listlessly looking at her phone, was Lani. She was, far and away, one of the rarest minorities in New Mureybet. Not because she was a human of no particular metahuman combination, but because she was an all-human who did not become a bloodthirsty adventurer who killed monsters like cockroaches any time a dragon had the impertinence to try to take over the world. Maybe it's because her parents were well-to-do merchants to sold incrementally better equipment in different cities across the continent. If she'd instead been born to someone slain by the dragon when just a whelp, perhaps everything would be different and she and Sly would never have crossed paths.

How sad Sly would be then. Lani was a wonderfully beautiful woman, slender like an elf, hair blonder and softer than a mermaid, with the generous bosom as well. She tended to wear less clothes than a nymph and enjoyed the city nightlife more than a werewolf. Lani was neither graceful nor motivated, often spending her afternoons puffing on her pipe, loaded with a mix of slimweed and Kobold white tobacco. It calmed her nerves. That's what Lani said. Not sure what she had to fret about, being effortlessly beautiful and unemployed.

Lani turned her head towards the sound, tossing a few strands of straight blonde hair about. She smiled as she saw her roommate come home bearing 'groceries.'

“Heeey.” Lani jumped up and trotted over to Sly, wearing her tiny thong panties, a lacy bra and an open sweater that was probably meant for a larger ensemble. But what did Sly know about clothing? For Lani, this was 'dressed up,' which was a euphemism for 'actually broke out the bra today.'

Her arms wrapping around Sly no less defly than if she herself was made of goo, Lani pressed forward and kissed her on the lips. She'd come to really love Sly's fruity taste. For an example that would make sense to someone not from New Mureybet, she tasted something like the mixed berry toaster pastries that would dare advertise something coming out of the toaster as 'wild.'

The long kiss made Sly feel weak and more fluid. Maybe it was the heat from Lani's body, but maybe it was the fact that she had been nursing a serious crush on her roommate for over a year. Perhaps it was silly to say she was crushing on someone with whom she'd had sex many many times, but Lani was not a romantic person. The hazards of courtship in a world with so many mixing cultures had led her to live free of the trappings of dating.

Sly would still call Lani her 'girlfriend' on occasion, but never without the quiet wish that it could be even more someday.

Lani stroked Sly's back and saw the multiple condoms floating inside her. “Busy day at work?”

“Yeah.” She smiled. “How's the job search?”

“I had a remote interview today.” Lani said. “They talked to me from here.”

“Did you get dressed for that?”

“I couldn't see them, so I assumed they couldn't see me.” Lani said. “Anyway, I had to take a wavescan so they knew I wasn't a shapeshifter.”

If there was an underclass below slimes, it was the shapeshifters. Too often had they impersonated someone important for some ill-gotten gain. Most shapeshifters worked in the entertainment industry, imitating the shapes of politicians and other famous individuals for the purpose of comedy, satire, but most often... novelty pornography.

In this area, those who were not roughly human-shaped, either too small like goblins or too large like orcs, were afforded a huge advantage. Shapeshifters could imitate their shape, but not their size or mass. An attempt to fake the sex tape of the second female orc Chief Consular was performed with two shapeshifters on a purpose-built miniature bed and set.

Nobody was fooled. Even in the industry of dead ringer pornography programs, nobody believed the celebrities and political figures were actually participating. But to pretend it was authentic was not aboveboard; the shapeshifter society shunned them for this chicanery. Perhaps ironically, they were driven into hiding.

Hiring shapeshifters outside of what they collectively called "the business" wasn't uncommon, but the law insisted that a shapeshifter had to disclose that information at the time of the interview. The same general rule applied as before: a shapeshifter could look like whatever he or she wanted, so long as they did not pretend to actually be someone else.

This led to the use of the wavescan, a marriage of computers and magic that could verify via a scan of brainwaves and aura if they were the person they were pretending to be. It was the closest thing to universal metahuman fingerprinting. Shapeshifting identity theft vanished overnight upon its inception.

Sly couldn't extinguish a little disgust in her heart at what shapeshifters had forced everyone else to go through. Even the name bothered her. SHE was a shapeshifter. Sometimes, she took the shape of a cube or any other Platonic solid. It could be relaxing to be something so perfect and regular. Sometimes Lani would stack Sly's rectangular form at the top of a shelf for fun. Let's see those facestealers do that.

“Shapeshifters wish they could be as beautiful as you.” Sly cooed.

“Oh, they can be.” Lani let Sly slip out of her grip. “So, hopefully, they'll call me soon, and then I'll have a job again.”

“All this for a waitressing job?”

“I know! I couldn't believe I had to get a wavescan for that. What's the world coming to? So many freaks out there.” She took a seat on the couch. She hooked both hands into her panties and slipped them off her legs. “You want to get started?”

"Definitely." Sly said eagerly. "I need to unload all this."

Lani spread her legs apart, hooking one leg over the edge of the sofa. Sly reshaped herself to give herself a new addition, the natural device that would be used to inseminate her not a few hours ago, and also that one time on the train.

Through rigorous testing, Sly had learned the exact hardness, thickness and length that satisfied Lani the most: nine and three quarters inches. Upon this discovery, Lani made a joke about something called Harry Potter. Sly had never heard of it.

Sly rested her hands on Lani's shoulders, brushing her hair back over the edge of the sofa. Sly pressed herself inside Lani, who grabbed onto the crook of Sly's elbow and nearly passed right through it. Sly happily pounded herself against Lani's wet slit. Watching her cheeks color, her eyes squint, her toes flex... she felt herself softening again, except for where it counted. That would stay solid until the end.

“What do you want to start with?" Sly asked, acting like a sommelier.

“What's on tap tonight?”

“The usual. Elf, goblin, dwarf, minotaur... centaur.”

“Let's start with the centaur.”

“Coming right up.” Sly felt the many condoms inside her shift in position until the largest one filled with centaur semen descended into the small pouch of slime that represented Sly's testes. The size of this condom distended her simulated scrotum, hanging down like an apple from a skinny branch of a tree. Sly pumped harder, feeling herself start to drip and leaving pink-purple dots around Lani's perfect belly button, the engorged scrotum sloshing back and forth.

Unable to hold back any longer, Lani cried out in ecstasy. That was Sly's cue. A thin tube formed inside her slimy penis, leading from the tip to the centaur-strength condom. She undid the knot and pointed it at the hole while compressing the condom with the surrounding slime.

Once the ejaculate was being transferred, Sly stopped her humping and held herself against Lani, forming a barrier from which no sperm could escape. Lani cried out as she felt the torrent of lukewarm splooge flush inside her. The pressure inside her increased as the condom emptied.

"Oooh... come on, every last drop..." Lani begged, and Sly complied, eventually passing the condom itself into Lani's insides, where it would surely not help prevent a pregnancy.

Lani looked down at her abdomen. There appeared to be no change.

“Ugh.” Lani groaned. “Still flat as a board.”

“A flat stomach seems to be the goal of everyone in the world but you.” Sly pointed out, still locked inside Lani, holding the dam of semen inside her. “Here you are, trying to make yours round.”

“Nobody ever gets what they really want.” Lani said. Sly knew that feeling very well. “No matter what I try, I'll never have a round belly. Every time I see that orangutan at the zoo, I'm jealous.”

“Well, he's fat because people throw popcorn at him.” Sly said. “You want more? Because I'm holding it all in right now, so if I let go, we're going to have a mess.”

“Go for it. Let's get some... werewolf in here.”

“I've got two of those.” She dropped them into her scrotum, giving it the pleasing upside-down-heart shape. “We'll have to do the jackhammer.”

'The jackhammer' was a sexual position named named after an obsolete tool, in the proud position of the wheelbarrow and the ice cream scoop. Having formed a semenproof seal around the edge of Lani's vulva, Sly was free to pound her inside by extending herself into her without actually pumping with her hips. This left her free to rapturously kiss Lani on the mouth and massage her breasts. For Sly, to touch anything was to taste anything, and her palms sucked on Lani's nipples with gentle pressure.

Lani only had but her tongue to taste, but she made good use of it, tasting the neverending fruitiness of her lips. No wonder young adventurers loved hunting them. They probably never knew the carnal pleasures she and Sly had shared on this couch, their bed, the bathroom floor, or wherever the mood struck them.

The Jackhammer picked up speed, squishing noisily around inside her rapidly. Sly's lips met Lani's neck and kissed it below her ear. Lani's muscles tightening, she howled again, and Sly let loose her twin payload of fresh-squeezed werewolf semen. Lani's insides filled to where her appendage was no longer touching any of the sides, awash in a sea of ejaculate. Her seal was straining under the pressure, but held with no leaks... so far.

And Lani's stomach was still flat.

“Let it never be said that my understanding of anatomy is that robust,” Sly said. “But my understanding is that to make a round stomach, you must go through the mouth first.” Sly presented a finger, which Lani dutifully sucked. The finger grew longer and reached further into her mouth, but was pulled out to let her speak. “Which one do you want?”

“How about some elf?” Lani said. “Wish I'd saved the centaur. I wonder how it would taste.”

“Like grass.” Sly said. “Trust me. You didn't miss much, even when it was fresh. I mean, there's much of it, as you can tell.” The tendril returned and the condoms jostled within her, Marcc's bubble of emissions rising into her arm. “Should I just let loose? Even you're not going to orgasm from this.”

“You leave what orgasms I am currently having to me.” Lani announced. “Just dispense with the stolen elf jizz, please.”

Sly complied, and squeezed out the elf sperm into Lani's open maw. She squirted it out in several forceful bursts, like the blasts from a water gun. Lani's mouth rang out with the white noise of filling a shallow glass over and over. She swallowed each mouthful before receiving the next until the condom was emptied.

“That's half-elf, isn't it?” Lani asked. “What kind of scam are you trying to pull here, Sly?”

“I wasn't trying to pull a fast one. You asked for elf. I saw a half-elf today.” Sly leaned back. “How the hell can you tell them apart, anyway? I can't, and every cell of my body is a taste bud.”

“Half-elves can't have children.” She said. “Just like mules, almost all half-breeds and quarter-breeds are infertile.”

“I guess it's good we're not wasting it down there, then.”

“This is taking too long.” Lani said. “Just go down there and shoot it all in.”

“Before I block your mouth, should I try filling your ass, too?”

“Go for it. Let's do it all. Bring it on.” She encouraged, gesturing with both hands to hurry it up. The tendril entered Lani's mouth, and a second extension appeared between Sly's legs and slithered gently into Lani's butt. She slightly reduced the size of her first extension to give a bit more room for Lani's second-favorite slimy substance.

Sly wrang out condom after condom, slinging the kobold and minotuar ejaculate down Lani's throat and into her stomach. The merman and human fisherman's sperm were sent into Lani's slit to resolve their differences. The leprechaun sperm would be delivered, unluckily, into Lani's ass. The remaining balloons were squeezed off into whichever orifice they were closest to.

Lani's stomach was pleasingly full, her ass had plenty of room for more, but her pussy was as strong as ever, only Sly's plug holding everything inside. And still, her abs were flat as the side of a bookcase.

She sighed. “Why doesn't anything work? How much more jizz do I need?”

“Can we go to the bathroom?” Sly asked quietly.

Lani squinted at her. “You don't use the bathroom.”

“Yes, but I can't hold this inside you much longer, and I'd rather let go of it in there.”

Lani got up, holding Sly by her back, and carried her into the bathroom. Stepping into the shower, Sly released her hold on Lani's vulva. A slurry of mixed sperms splattered coldly at Lani's feet.

They both sighed with obvious relief. “I'm sorry, Lani.” Sly said, bringing her goopy cheek against Lani's shoulder. “There's no way. Even if I packed it all in there, it's not going to give you that big bloated stomach you want. It's just too strong.”

“Cursed with a flat stomach AND a tight pussy...” Lani pouted. “Has ever a girl suffered as I have?”

Sly slid her head towards Lani's and pecked her on the cheek. “I have.” She thought, keeping it to herself.

Lani stroked Sly's extrusion of goo that was meant to be hair. “Thanks, anyway.” She kissed her again, letting her down to the bathroom floor.

“Anytime.” She smiled.

“Ew, you have two dicks?” Lani pointed with a gentle sneer.

Sly looked down. She had forgotten the equipment she'd created for her double penetration. “Well, yeah. You wanted two insertions, so why not?”

“That's weird.” Lani shrugged.

Sly split the penises into quarters, leaving multiple thin strands hanging like tentacles. “Look at me, I'm Octo-penis!” Lani snickered, and Sly wrapped the eight appendages together and drew them back into her body. Her height grew by an inch of two from the mass returning to her trunk.

Lani was silent for a second, wiping her feet free of the ejaculate on the bath mat. “You hungry?” She asked suddenly.

Sly wondered how she could be hungry after filling her with so much semen. Her body must absorb it like a sponge. “I'm OK. But we can go grab dinner if you want.”

“I have to get dressed?” Lani released a dramatic groan. “I guess so.” She went off to their bedroom. Sly returned to the living room and plucked a single round lollipop from the bowl on the coffee table. She pitched the wrapper in a nearby waste basket and put the lollipop between her teeth. It was 'mystery flavor,' but there was no mystery to her. She could taste all the individual fruits that were in the remnants of each lollipop batch, her analogue to those 'everything bagel' that were so popular with humans. Sly swirled her tongue around the pop, waiting for Lani to return.

Lani left the bedroom, dressed in a small tank top with exposed midriff and short shorts. For someone who hated her flat stomach so much, she rarely covered it up. She set an earring in one ear as she walked towards the couch, but dropped the other. She bent over at the waist to pick it up, and inadvertently pointed her rear right at Sly.

Sly tensed, and the room filled with a loud crunch as she inadvertently broke her lollipop between her 'molars.'

Lani rose and looked around. “What was that?”

Sly threw the stick into the trash, the shattered candy dissolving effortlessly as it slipped into her ichor. “Nothing.” She answered.

Lani and Sly walked a few blocks from their apartment and to the first floor of the nearby Qout'h Hotel, the nearest thing to a nightclub in the immediate vicinity. The food was decent and they had a house band with a harpy singing beautifully behind her classic microphone. Nobody seemed to mind that she molted just a bit on each high note.

Given the option of getting seated near the kitchen entrance, they chose a seat at the bar. The dwarf bartender had trouble keeping his eyeline above the bar, but could anyone deny the deep dwarfish understanding of all forms of alcohol? Lani ordered a nonalcoholic cocktail to the bartender's confusion, and Sly insisted he fill a martini glass with agave nectar.

Their meal options limited at the bar, Lani ordered a deep fried goblin onion appetizer and Sly got sweet cinnamon minibites. Lani went at her battered onion with a knife and fork, which the bartender reasoned was like going after a kobold with a fire rod; what the hell was the point? She continued to finish half her onion with no difficulty and no grease on her fingers.

On the television, a broadcast of the Cyclops World Series of Baseball was in its fifteenth inning, neither team having successfully hit the ball yet. Cyclopes were the world's foremost swingers of clubs, but the ringers of both teams had been suspended for using magical second eyes hidden under their ball caps. It was the sort of scandal that made you wonder why they started a Cyclops Baseball League in the first place, but whatever. It gave them something to put on the televisions in bars so people wouldn't have to talk to each other.

In fact, Lani and Sly had barely spoken since they sat down. Another reason why Sly didn't get the big deal about this thing they called 'food.' She could see Lani without turning her head, but she still did as a reflex. Lani raked the blonde locks behind her ear and sighed, looking down at her bare tummy. Still flat. Among her virtues, patience wasn't one Lani had to any great depth.

“If that's really how you're going to do it, it's going to take much longer than one meal.”

“Nah, it's not going to work.” Lani said. “My metabolism is too fast. I should just get used to it.”

It hurt Sly to see her so discouraged. If only she could get inside her head and show her how beautiful she knew she was.

Sly blinked. “There might be a way for you to get that round tummy.”

“How?” Lani looked over, setting her glass down.

Sly gently inched forward and kissed Lani on the lips. Lani parted her mouth and allowed Sly to extend her tongue inside.

And that's when Sly went for it. Her tongue entered her mouth and went past it. She thinned herself to a watery consistency and poured herself down Lani's throat. She struggled a bit, unable to close her mouth as Sly's legs had left her stool and dove into Lani's system.

Just like that, Sly was gone. Lani held her stool with both hands, expecting Sly to emerge from the other end and rocket her into the sky. The bartender asks where her friend ran off to. Lani felt like everyone was staring at her now, her posture tense and confused.

She gently smothered a burp in her fist and sheepishly said, “I need to go to the bathroom.”

Lani staggered into the ladies' lavatory. Nobody else was there, or at least, no feet were visible in the stalls. Lani called out to her stomach, “Sly, this isn't funny! Get out of there!”

Silence.

Lani's breath deepened. Her voice quavered. “Sly, say something.”

“I'm here.” Sly's voice was just as audible as if she was standing in the room.

“Are you OK?” Lani asked, resting her hand reassuringly on her stomach. “What's it like in there? What can you see?”

“You think I can SEE in here?”

“I can open my mouth wider if that gives you any light.”

“That's just ridiculous.” Sly said. “But don't worry about me. I think I'm onto something you'll really like.”

Lani's stomach rumbled like an earthquake, and she got that almost-daily sensation she never discussed with anyone. Her legs pinched together and her hands went to her stomach. A weight dropped through her like the counterweight of an elevator tumbling down its shaft, stopping just before her legs.

She looked down. Lani's stomach had quadrupled in size, a huge mound of flesh on top of her thin legs. She looked like a woman who'd made it to the fourth trimester. The rest of her body was mostly unaffected, her breasts and legs the same size. She placed her hand on the flesh of her stomach to feel the smooth, nearly mathematical roundness of her new tummy. The button on her jeans shorts surrendered, flying off like a champagne cork and ricocheting off at least one wall. Her jean shorts couldn't fit around her anymore, and she had to hold them up to preserve her dignity.

“Do you like it?” Sly asked.

Lani brushed a thin tear away from her eye. “It's amazing.” She said. “But... I can't wear these shorts anymore.”

“Don't worry about it.” A pink tendril emerged from between Lani's legs and painted her lower half with slime, a tendril working its way up her back and forming a top, removing her tank top and tossing it away. Lani was now 'wearing' a strapless pink dress with a hole custom-formed to her bloated stomach.

Sly could finally see her creation for herself, and the obvious joy on Lani's face for finally realizing her goal. She told Lani, “I got you covered.”

Lani emerged from the bathroom and turned a few heads. Not that her beauty wasn't enough to do that already, but the sudden changes had a few questioning if this was really the lovely human woman at the bar.

Strutting up to the harpy sat on the edge of the stage, who was taking a short break, Lani asked her for some music to dance to. The harpy fluttered over to her bandmates and made a suggestion. The bass player, a dark elf, started playing something quite dance-able, and the rest followed his jazzy lead. The harpy grabbed the microphone stand with her claw and sang an old standard from the days of the wars.

Lani went to the center of the empty dance floor and grooved to the beat, not waiting for a partner. Sly joined in by shifting her weight inside her and pushing Lani left and right, allowing her to slide along the floor in a way that looked impossible.

Working her way to the tables, Lani's arm came up without her meaning it to, offered to a handsome elf with a goatee and suit. The elf accepted it before Lani realized that Sly had made her do that somehow. She drew him out of his seat and held his tie up, biting it between her teeth. They danced together, her stomach pressed against him as they faced each other, and her ass grinding him as she spun around. His hand rubbed gently against her 'dress,' which Sly had made as smooth as she could so Lani's dance partners wouldn't stick to it.

She left her elven suitor and found a new partner, her choice of a band of goblins. The group pushed the smallest one forward, an unusual goblin, in that he was actually wearing glasses. She took his hand and swung him around in the air. For him, dancing was more, 'crawling around the human female while she danced,' ending their encounter with her bouncing him back into the crowd with a belly bounce. The nerdy goblin was welcomed back into his group enthusiastically, evidently proud that he'd come out of his shell.

“Excuse me?” A loud voice roared from somewhere in the hotel lobby. All the eyes in the bar turned towards it, and the music slowly stopped. The drummer somehow knew to drop one of his sticks at the outset of the silence to make it extra awkward.

A cyclops in a button-up shirt and fishing hat took the floor. “This is a public place.” He scolded Lani. “Where do you get off, cavorting around like this?”

Sly's soft voice appeared in Lani's head. “Flap your lips.”

“What?” She whispered, looking this tall cyclops over. To be stared at disapprovingly with one eye was somehow more intense than two.

“Flap your lips like you're talking.”

Lani obeyed and started wagging her jaw. Speaking somehow out of her exposed slime, Sly said, “Well, at least I don't get off in random doctor's office because my wife doesn't listen.”

The cyclops's single eye twitched gently. “I've no idea what you mean.”

“I think you do.” Sly barked, too quick for Lani to match with her own mouth, tagging along too late like a dubbed movie. “It was this very afternoon.”

The cyclops sneered and walked off. Sly yelled out towards him. “And have you even heard of fruit?! God, it tasted like charcoal.”

Lani pinched her mouth shut. “Maybe we shouldn't be yelling this so loudly.”

“Oh, whatever.” Sly spun Lani around to find another dance partner. She went to a table with three seated human men. She smiled as she approached, one holding a palm out to touch her bloated belly. Before he could lay his hand on the smooth surface, his hand folded into a point and leaned back, jaw dropping open.

Lani did not react in time as the rebuffed cyclops had returned to his luggage and retrieved his club. He swung it at her, threatening to knock her across the dance floor and to her certain death.

Lani did not react in time.

Sly did.

Pulling herself out of Lani, she reformed and held her arms and shoulders out in front of the club, growing as hard as she could without becoming so brittle that he would shatter her. The club splintered against her, sending toothpicks and shrapnel flying everywhere, ruining several dinners and hairdos, but causing no other damage.

The cyclops recognized the doctor from earlier that day, dropping the hilt of his ruined club in shock. Sly sneered at him, her 'skin' cracking as she moved. Unlike some of her kin, there was no organ sequestered inside her, no 'heart' zealously guarded from an arrow strike or slash of the sword. The boot was on the other foot, and this cyclops was learning what everyone eventually learned about her.

Sly had no weak point.

Behind her, Lani was left without her beautiful round stomach. It took every drop of slime to stop that swing, which left her in a terrible predicament. She covered herself with her hand.

Nobody spoke. The man looked right between the two points of obvious interest on Lani, right to her flat stomach.

“Did you just give birth?”

Despite being a fake doctor, Sly had never found occasion to use latex gloves before. But she hoped to apply lotion without it getting mixed into her flesh. She gently massaged lotion on Lani's stomach, hoping to buff away any stretch marks she might have acquired from this night of dancing and stomach distention.

“OK, despite how it ended, I think that was fun.” Sly buffed the lotion into her skin. “I'm glad you decided to come out tonight.”

“Getting naked in front of twenty strangers was not fun, but it was more fun than getting killed by that cyclops.” Lani said.

“It's sad to lose a customer, but it's no big deal. There's no shortage of sperm.”

Lani sighed as Sly massaged her flank. “Thank you so much for helping me live out my dreams.” Sly slipped her hands out of the gloves and let them drop to the carpet below their bed. Lani felt Sly's sticky body slide against her. “What was it like?” Lani asked. “Being inside me.”

“I've been inside you lots of times.”

“You know what I mean.”

Sly thought for a while. “It's hard to explain. I knew what body part I was in as I was getting swept around, in your veins and muscles, in your brain...”

“In my brain?!” Lani jumped back. “You were in my brain?!”

“I was in your bloodstream, so yeah.” Sly answered. “I didn't do anything.”

Lani shook her head. “I don't know if I like the notion of you inside my brain. What if you flipped a switch that made me do something I didn't want to or something?”

“I swear I didn't do anything! I wouldn't know how.” Sly insisted.

A long, cold silence.

“Take a wavescan!” Sly shouted.

“What?”

“You took a wavescan this afternoon. Take another one right now and compare them! You'll be the exact same person, I swear.”

This is how two grown women came to be sat at their computer naked, waiting for a scan to finish. The results printed out and Lani held them to a lamp to compare them through the paper. They were identical.

“I told you.” Sly put a hand on Lani's bare shoulder to reassure her. “I would never ever mess with your mind like that. You're exactly what I love already. And if you feel like you're becoming debauched or perverted through your exposure to me... well, that's all you. It's not me tinkering around while I'm in there. I promise.”

Lani turned her head. “You love me?”

Lucky Sly was already pink, else she would have turned it. “Yeah, I do.” She admitted. “I love you.”

Lani's reaction was atypical. She buried her head in her hands. “Oh no...”

“What? What's wrong?” Sly asked.

Lani took a breath before answering. “I lied to you when I said I was human.”

“OK. What are you, then?”

“I'm three-quarters human, and one-quarter nymph.” Lani confessed. “That's why I'm so beautiful. That's why my stomach stays so flat no matter what I eat. That's why my pussy is tight like a closed fist no matter how much I abuse it with dildos and such. That's why I can't get pregnant no matter how much monster sperm you pump into me. And that's why I've stayed single this whole time, because every time I've tried to get into a relationship, it gets too intense because they're infatuated with my innate nymph charm... and not me.”

Sly smiled widely. “You've never read the monster manual, have you?”

Lani looked off for a moment and gently shook her head no.

“Did you know that not all the creatures in the world are effected by nymph charms?” Sly said. “I bet you haven't had many goblins hit on you, or if so, they might have just been looking for a human trophy wife with which to brag to their friends. Anyway, goblins aren't affected by the charm, like golems and satyrs and sentient plants. It's not totally clear who is and isn't affected, but the two hypothesized criteria are... creatures that are less sexual or asexual... and creatures without eyes.”

Sly climbed into Lani's lap. “When we first met, I didn't love you immediately. I recognized your beauty, like everyone else, but I wasn't sure I even liked you at first. But we hit it off, we became friends, we had sex, we moved in together... and my love for you grew slowly, not suddenly. I love you so much, you weird, lazy, slightly spoiled... mostly human girl.”

Lani sniffed and brushed a tear away from her cheek. Sly kissed her on the lips, and Lani's arms came up to Sly so quick, they entered her slime like water. They pawed inside her, looking for something to grab as their tongues wrestled together. Sly thinned, until she was almost watery, sliding over Lani's whole body until everything below her neck was entirely coated in slime.

Lani panted, waiting for her to crawl up over her face. Sly stayed still. From somewhere, Sly said, “Good night.” Lani smiled at her new pajamas and turned over to her side to sleep.

Something entered her, a slimy extension of a familiar size. “You didn't think we were going to sleep, did you?” Sly said.

“You don't have any sperm in you!” Lani said, her voice quaking with each pump of The Jackhammer.

“So?” Sly responded.

Lani leaned back. That was an excellent point. Lani always had her best interest at her nonexistent heart.