After a long day, you stumble half-asleep into your room, nearly tripping over a small stack of your roommate's books. For a brief moment, you find yourself wondering how she, a slime, manages to read anything on paper without ruining it, but the thought quickly vanishes, replaced with the drive to just get to bed for some well-deserved rest. Longing for the welcomed grasp of sleep, you quickly slip out of most of the day's clothes like some symbolic shedding of the exhausting events.



With your eyes drooping shut, you slide into bed, the soft mattress - really, the lack of standing upright - a welcome break from earlier. You grasp futilely for the sheets or a blanket, but your hands remain fabric-free. However, just before you, already laying on your side, make up your mind to leave and go fetch one, a wet tendril - no, arm - drapes itself lazily over your side, gracing the bare skin with a gentle warmth. You jump a little at the contact before finally placing the feeling; exactly the same as when your roommate "pranked" you by letting your hand pass through hers. You let out a breath you hadn't noticed you'd been holding, your next question answered almost as you think of it; her books, the lack of covers, her being in the bed... you must have mistaken her bed as yours.



More of her warm, slimy body presses against you as she draws nearly silently closer, with just a mumbled "waffle scoops..." With a small squirm, you try to roll away from her, to avoid having to eventually explain why you're in her bed. Unfortunately, she's stuck fast to you, even in her sleep. Her "arm" pushes you backwards, towards her, and you realize, a bit delayed, that the wet sensation against your back is growing, creeping over your sides. Heavily delayed, you try to pull free, but everywhere she touches holds fast. Somehow, she lets out a vague murmur while your head slowly enters hers; then, she rolls onto her back, taking you with her. Her momentum forces you wholly into her warm embrace as you feel her body close over you - her chest around yours, her head a mask surrounding your own, and probably holding a leg in each of her gooey appendages.



An image of her demonstrating her "digestive system," for lack of a better word, pops into your mind, and your panic finally overcomes your sleep. With all the excess energy you can muster, you push against whatever you can, straining to free yourself from your accidentally-predatory roomie. Though, despite being unable to see for sure, you have no doubt that your body was no match for hers. The natural warmth of her slime surrounding you provides a quick distraction; between its coersion and your steadily-exhausted stamina, sleep finally claims you, though less willing than you originally would have liked. Just a random human, possibly even invisible within her, your fate in her hands.







.oOo.oOo.oOo.

Fatal

.oOo.oOo.oOo.



Melissa woke up the next morning. She glided out of her bed, idly drawing any slime from her bed back into herself, and walked to the mirror. Something felt off; it was too quiet, and it took too few steps to walk over. "Hey, did you get in okay last night? You were out really late," she asked the room, throwing a casual glance to your bed. Empty. Odd, the slime girl thought, must've had something early this morning. She looked into the mirror. She seemed... bigger. Significantly.



Hoping you'd forgive her later, she slid open your drawer and drew out a tee-shirt. The two of you were roughly the same size, Melissa figured, so she should be able to "wear" it. But as she tried to slip it over her head, it soon became apparent - it wasn't even close to fitting. Her eyes darted around the room, for anything that she might've accidentally absorbed. Book piles, check. Your bed stuff, check. The beds themselves, check. A full set of your clothes in front of her bed, ch-. She froze, staring at the worn outfit, then down at herself, body and belly the same color they always were, through and through.



"Damn it, I need to start putting bars around me," she groused, taking a seat on the drawers, "so, eat or sell, advertise for a roommate again, and..." she glared at her newly-grown body, a bit miffed, "gotta figure out what to do for you. Can't be out in public with at least a foot on everyone else."







.oOo.oOo.oOo.

Nonfatal

.oOo.oOo.oOo.



"Hey."



You stir a bit.



"Hey!"



Nope, too warm and comfy, back to sleep.



"Fine, don't wake up. Ever."



Perhaps it's not best to take that lightly. You yawn and stretch. Your body feels like it's working on a delay, and the air around you feels unnaturally thick, like humidity but more so. You open your eyes, and everything seems... tinted? Gravity feels different than normal waking up, as though you woke up already standing, and there's a constant thump-thump noise while everything sounds all muted.



"Alright, taking control back. You have some explaining to do."



In contrast to the other sounds, Melissa's voice seems clear as day. Absentmindedly, you try to look around and stretch, but every part of you is held firmly in place. It slowly dawns on you: you're inside of your roommate. The sleepy events of last night return; you open your mouth to explain, but can't speak through her slime.



The slime girl around you begins to move, forcing you along with her as she lays down on her bed. She moves... around, somehow, her viscous slime swirling against you until she rests right on top of you, looking down. You cough, and to your relief, air streams into your lungs again.



"Now then, I trust you didn't exactly have nefarious reasons, but I'd still like to know three things before I let you up to get dressed and go: one, what, exactly, did you do before trying to feed yourself to me; two, ...why?!" You fidget a little; Melissa's grip on you has lessened severely, though she's still keeping you in place pretty well. You look back up at her face just as she smiles and continues.



"And three, would you like to do it again, with some warning beforehand?"