Warm Elixirs Ch. 04

Chapter 4: Overwhelming Reality

Monster: 3 rd Floor Slime

Tags: Sapphic, Marking, Fingering, Overstimulation, Long Tongue, Masturbation, Sex Toys, Oxygen Deprivation, Parasite.

Tarrakh did not let Ailill touch the ground. She kept her pinned to the wall, the elf's legs floating helplessly. The dragonkin was not only toned, but she was tall too, almost a head more than Ailill. The intellectual elf weighed nothing to the tank of the Nimble Ferrets.

Despite Tarrakh having said, "Thought you'd never come", to Ailill. She did not forgive the transgression of the elf's voyeuristic escapade. As she held her aloft, she pressed her knee into Ailill's groin, grinding her scales into the soft and sensitive folds of the frustrated elf. After all, her possibility to cum had been interrupted by the woman of her dreams catching her, ironically. But Tarrakh knew how to be cruel, she was as perfectly capable of rhythmically increasing the pace as well as knowing when to grind to a halt, which led to poor Ailill desperately trying to fuck herself on the muscular woman's thigh--Ailill's underwear had gone through the many stages of wetness by this point, it was soaking.

The dragonkin did not solely focus on Ailill's quim. No, she knew that there were multiple ways to have her naughty spy be punished.

At first, Tarrakh had decided to drown the elf in kisses. She planted some on her lips, her cheeks, her forehead; they had been soft and chaste, but the sheer volume of them had caused the wizard to get so blushed that her skin emanated heat.

Then, came the marks.

Tarrakh opened Ailill's shirt. She did not undress the elf. No, it was just enough to expose the pale skin of her clavicle. The muscular woman pressed even more kisses against it, following the shape of the bone. However, as Ailill grew even more flushed, she decided to change the pace. Tarrakh's lips were now darkened, a combination of Ailill's sweat and her own saliva. She stopped just between the elf's shoulder and her neck. Instead of kissing Ailill, she placed her lips on the skin and began to suck on it; Ailill could not hold back a needy moan once Tarrakh began to nibble the spot she held onto. As she pulled away, a slight bruise made its presence known, the deep purple even more distinct due to the elf's unblemished skin.

"Let us remind everyone who you belong to," Tarrakh growled into Ailill's ear. The dampness of the elf's sex could no longer be held back by her underwear. A trail of glistening arousal fluid slid down her leg, dripping onto the floor.

Ailill could only nod, not coherent enough to even form the word "Please".

Mercilessly, Tarrakh kept marking Ailill. The rest of her neck, the top of her sternum; the dragonkin tugged on Ailill's shirt, pulling most of it off and revealing her small and perky breasts. She would leave a reminder of who owned them. Ailill was no more than a disheveled and moaning doll, in the hands, figuratively and literally, of the woman who she profoundly desired. It was pure bliss. When Tarrakh opened her maw, filled with sharp fangs, and enveloped the elf's dainty neck, Ailill felt like she would cum right then and there. But she didn't; she endured. When the open mouth began to close, the teeth prickling her skin, she endured. When the fleshy tongue trailed along her body, from her heart to the base of her chin, she endured.

When Tarrakh pulled back and looked her straight in the eyes, as if she was the most beautiful thing in the realms, she endured--barely managed it, but she held fast.

"Maybe we should go out like this, have the town see you for who you truly are..."

Ailill's eyes widened in panic. And yet, she did not attempt to dissuade Tarrakh.

"Considering how late it is, we probably wouldn't run into anyone we know. But I know that would leave you unsatisfied."

Ailill averted her eyes from the dragonkin's; she pressed her thighs together, as if that would hide the lust in her center.

"You want the Ferrets to know," Tarrakh hummed into Ailill's ear, "Eryn and Fennel too..."

Using her toned leg, Tarrakh easily pushed through Ailill's defenses, prying her legs apart, exposing her flooded underwear. The elf rushed to cover her face. She was utterly ashamed of how honest her body was about being toyed with by Tarrakh. Taking advantage of her horny panic, the dragonkin hooked one of her fingers on the hem of the elf's underwear. Tarrakh leaned even closer, roughly panting into Ailill's ear; the warm breath made the elf twitch in anticipation even more, as hard as she tried to hide her aroused expression, her own crazed exhales betrayed her completely.

Tarrakh stood still. She stopped touching Ailill's folds.

Ailill let out a pitiful whine.

Tarrakh whispered into Ailill's ear:

"You want us all to know just how much of a pervert you really are."

With one swift motion, the muscular woman pulled the spellcaster's underwear down. Suddenly, Ailill's slit was exposed to the cold air of night; she felt her hands go limp. Her panties were soon discarded, hitting the floor with a wet thud. The elf tried to stop thinking about the idea of walking out of the house in this state, preferably leashed and having Tarrakh pull on her, but the deep, sultry voice of the woman she desired kept repeating inside her head.

"S... So- So," Ailill barely managed to stutter, "are we g-going out, then?"

She gave Tarrakh her best attempt at a smile; a line of saliva traced the edge of her mouth down her neck, into the hickeys--it was the result of her now barely sane mind managing to endure the pleasure. She had not cum yet, Tarrakh hadn't told her she was allowed, after all.

In response to Ailill's lecherous question, Tarrakh just laughed.

"This is who you really are. Good, but no. Tonight you'll be all mine. Fair trade for the show I gave you, no?"

Ailill nodded energetically.

"Now, make sure to breathe. This is much bigger than what you're used to."

Tarrakh gave a light smack to Ailill's folds, eliciting a pleasured yelp from the elf. She proceeded to drag her index and middle finger along the labia, coating them thoroughly in Ailill's own juices.

The warning was more than appropriate. When two of Tarrakh's fingers dove into Ailill's pussy, the woman could only bang her back against the wall, the surface stopping her from being able to fully arch it. Ailill's fingers were delicate and thin; Tarrakh's were much thicker, more calloused too. Despite the abundant lubrication, Ailill still felt how her muscles stretched to accommodate the powerful fingers; the scales of Tarrakh's digits were softer than those of her thigh or abdomen; however, they were still textured. The fact that they weren't homogeneous skin meant that there were bumps that rubbed against the walls of the elf's vagina.

"Tarrakh! Tarrakh! I! I'm going to!" she moaned.

"No, you won't. We haven't even really started."

The dragonkin wrapped her tail around Ailill's bucking hips, holding them in place. Then, she pulled her fingers out from inside Ailill. The elf clenched her inner muscles, trying as hard as she could to keep them inside.

"Greedy and naughty?" Tarrakh exclaimed once she finally pulled them out. Using her long tongue, she cleaned them and, with a proud look, she said to Ailill:

"You taste delicious. It'd be unfair if only I had a taste, right?"

Ailill opened her mouth expectantly.

"No, no, you misunderstand. Pay attention."

Tarrakh's right hand, still moist from Ailill's fluids and the dragonkin's saliva, slid down to the muscular woman's crotch. It passed her clit, that Ailill so badly wanted to lick, and stopped just before her slit. Ailill could see a golden liquid. It had completely escaped her mind! Had Tarrakh been pleasuring her all this time while that kept having its way with her?

The dragonkin was more accustomed to the size of her own fingers. So, the three that went inside her did so without much issue. Even so, the slime was still pumping inside her vagina; Ailill was entranced by the flushed expressions of pleasure that the muscular woman had painted on her face.

"Got you!" Tarrakh exclaimed.

With what appeared to be a decent amount of effort--Ailill was lewdly observing how the veins of her biceps popped as she pulled--she tugged the slime out of herself. Tarrakh pressed harder on the slime, closer to the core, the living dildo froze for a moment. The dragonkin took the chance to bring it closer to Ailill's slit.

"You not only spied on me, but this one too. Only fair it gets to punish you as well, no?"

Tarrakh released her grip on the slime. As if it had been listening to the conversation, it shot upward, immediately climbing into Ailill. Tarrakh's fingers had already given Ailill a taste of what it meant to be filled, but the way the slime breached her quim was something else entirely. It moved in angles that a finger, due to the bones inside, could never. It had no rigid restraints; the slime could press on so many parts of her inner walls. Ailill's hips would've been bucking wildly, but Tarrakh's tail still held her in place. So, with tears forming in her eyes, Ailill could only whine as the slime explored her insides.

The living dildo wanted a warm and safe place to have its core in. Thankfully, Ailill's womb fit the criteria perfectly. It began to move it to her pussy. The slime pressed the sphere against her labia. However, it did not have enough strength to push it inside such a tight opening. It was then that Tarrakh, always a kind soul, aligned her thigh with the core.

She gave the core the push it needed.

With a satisfying pop and a chorus of nonsensical cries of pleasure, the core penetrated into Ailill. A reddish glow coming from her abdomen. Tarrakh did not pull back her thigh. She kept it pressed on Ailill's folds, ensuring the slime would not leave her insides. Ailill's consciousness began to feel faint, she felt her head tilt forward, weak from the pleasure. It was then that Tarrakh demonstrated that she could be just as compassionate as she could be punishing.

Tarrakh caressed the melting elf's face, fixing as much as possible of her disheveled hair. Once more, she looked at Ailill like she was the only creature in the world and, of course, the most beautiful she had ever laid eyes on. The dragonkin's hand glided along the elf's pristine yet sweaty skin, until, with only her index and thumb, she could hold the weight of the blissed-out woman's face.

Tarrakh kissed Ailill again.

It began with soft, chaste pressing of the lips. Hushed moans muffled by their unwillingness to separate.

"M- More," Ailill cooed, barely able to pull away.

The muscular woman obliged. She parted Ailill's lips with her tongue; they danced around each other, a slow waltz as they explored the depths of each other's mouth.

Tarrakh could not hold back anymore.

There was no restraint as she squeezed her long, slithery tongue deeper into Ailill's mouth. The muscular woman overpowered the elf completely. Even as the wizard's body spasmed in pleasure, Tarrakh kept going. Past the back of Ailill's tongue, past her uvula, deeper and deeper down into her throat.

The dragonkin opened her eyes.

Before her, the professional and academic elf was nowhere to be found. She had been reduced to an aroused mess, covered in juices. Her flesh was flushed, pleasure and difficulty breathing the reasons. Her lips glistened as she slobbered on Tarrakh's tongue. Her lower body did not fare much better. The dragonkin could not only observe the stream of fluid flowing from her groin, a pool at her feet. Similarly, Tarrakh could also see the glow of the slime's core, continuously pumping, punishing the elf from below while the dragonkin did so from above.

The only thing Ailill did was moan happily at the overwhelming amount of pleasure.

In an instant, Tarrakh threw her head back, pulling her tongue out of Ailill's mouth violently, making the elf choke as air reentered her organism much too quickly.

"You," Tarrakh said dominantly despite her own lack of breath, "You have been a very good girl."

Ailill nodded enthusiastically; a few drops of drool flew from her lips as she did, hitting Tarrakh's breasts.

The muscular woman tilted her head, like she was observing a cute puppy.

"Despite all I've put you through, you've endured. You've not climaxed yet, have you?"

Ailill shook her head.

"I, I have not been- Nghhh!" Tarrakh pushed her thigh up, pressing on the puffed-up folds of the elf, making the slime dance inside her. Even so, Ailill continued speaking.

"I have not been allowED!" she raised her voice as Tarrakh grabbed onto her hips and pulled her closer, forcing her to grind on the scales.

"Well," she pressed a loving kiss on Ailill's cheek.

"Now you can cum."

Back down into Ailill's throat, her tongue went. Tarrakh sealed the elf's mouth with her own.

In desperate obedience, Ailill's free hand went down to her inflamed clit, lifting the fleshy hood and, at first, massaging it, then she pinched it, pressing it with her thumb and middle finger. Her body had been starved for release; she wantonly obeyed any cry it gave her. Ailill wished her other hand was free and not inside... Anyway, she wanted to massage and pull on her breasts too; despite being small, they were still sensitive.

Ailill could not breathe. She felt Tarrakh's tongue pushing down her esophagus, truly testing the elf's gag reflex. The way it slithered in, parting the contracting flesh of her throat, made her come closer and closer to climax. She was in heaven. She spasmed and clenched her legs; the living dildo inside her wriggled in response. It tried to dig deeper to escape the newfound pressure.

The heat inside Ailill rose. She tightened her core muscles even more; the slime responded in kind, writhing and pressing along her inner walls even more.

The warmth continued to grow and grow.

"Go on, my beautiful girl, cum!"

Ailill could no longer hold it back.

She collapsed onto the floor, her body splayed out as even more liquid was pushed out from her vagina, pooling under her.

The elf spasmed, unable to control her body as the overwhelming climax, the result of hours of edging, took control, demanding full attention be given to it.

The living dildo, still inside her quim, calmed down. After all, it had been able to drink all it wished from her fluids.

Ailill pulled her moistened hand away from her entrance.

As the surge of pleasure began to fade. She dragged her fingers out of her throat.

She observed both of her hands, one coated in her saliva, one in her arousal fluid.

"What the fuck is wrong with me?" she asked heartbrokenly, as she looked at the inside of her home in the Open Door Inn.

Ailill prayed that none of her neighbors had heard how she had needily moaned Tarrakh's name as the slime penetrated her.

The floor around her crotch was slick with her cum and other fluids. She'd have to clean it up. However, she had been edging herself as a toy with its own "will" dug inside her. So, she was exhausted. Similarly, her brain was still recovering from the deprivation of oxygen she had imposed on it--Ailill felt like chastising her tiredness; if her body didn't like having a lack of breath, it should take it with her brain, which found it exhilarating and arousing.

More trivial thoughts passed through her head. However, before she knew it, her eyelids had grown heavy.

Ailill closed her eyes.

Soon, she fell asleep.

.....

"Ugh..."

With a pained groan, Ailill returned to consciousness.

She felt sore. Her muscles hurt all over. As if waking up with a hangover, she gave her room a confused look. She was still on the floor. She tried to sit up.

"Ow, ow, ow. Nope, that is not working..."

The second she tried to exert any force on her abdominal muscles, her body cried out in pain. Ailill felt rigid. She flopped around on the floor. Finally, she managed to flip her torso and, with her chest to the floor, place her hands on the wet ground. Using her arms and knees, she pushed herself up. She he leaned back until she was sitting on her ankles.

She noticed her hands were moist. Without paying much attention, she gave them a shake to try and dry them. She interlocked her fingers and, while arching her back, she stretched.

Big mistake.

The moment she inhaled, a surge of pleasure washed over her. The elf hugged herself as she crumpled into a ball. As she held onto her abdomen, she felt something. Movement. A repetitious pumping, an orb moving up and down, pressing against the tired flesh of her vagina. The moment it felt the pressure of her hand against it, the living dildo began to squirm, in its frantic state, its movement caused Ailill to feel sensations in spots she did not know she had.

"Stop! E- EnoUGH!" she moaned as the toy coaxed yet another climax out of her.

Why was the slime still conscious? Ailill, barely able to open her eyes, turned to her nightstand. While some preferred the mechanics of clocks, she preferred a good old crystal orb; it had a projection of whichever celestial body was in the sky as well as its approximate location, as well as a numerical representation of the time. It was just past four in the morning. Considering when she had arrived home, and estimating how long she had played with herself, the slime had been moving for hours! That was impossible!

Unless you gave it more of its feed it would not, should not, last this long.

The feed must have had some issues.

Yes, she'd tell Fennel she had only given it so many drops and... How many drops had she given it?

"Gods damn it!" part of her cry was of frustration, part of it was the slime deciding its current position wasn't comfortable, and it needed to rearrange the interior of Ailill's quim to solve it. Once it settled, even if it still continued to thrust itself into the elf, she was able to think, barely.

Ailill bit her finger trying to ignore the new surge of heat inside her. She was finally present enough to realize her mistake.

Yes, she had wanted to go back to Tarrakh's, to ask her to test the toy together, but she hadn't. She had been too scared to do so, the hundred ways it could all go wrong--in which Tarrakh could not return her love--froze her. So, in desperation, she had tried to masturbate to let her emotions go. Her fingers had not been enough. She had the orb in her pocket, so she pulled it out. Ailill had rubbed it against her folds, still covered by her underwear. When that grew insufficient, she removed the layer of cloth and grinded the core against her entrance and clit. The slime had reacted to the liquid it had been fed. Its own thick fluid began to grow, encasing the core. Ailill had shoved the toy inside as she fantasized about Tarrakh, about how she'd catch her spying and would punish her.

It had fully satisfied her, yes, but she had accidentally been feeding it for hours. Not only that, by how it moved inside her, it had already grown to notice where to press to have her body release more of the juices it had developed a taste for.

Hadn't Fennel said something about it drinking the host's moisture until it grew to be a dangerous monster again? And wasn't the slime comfortably wriggling inside her womb?!

She clenched her abdomen, trying to push it out. Nothing. Not only that, but Ailill could've sworn that she started to feel it grip her insides, which drew tears of arousal from her eyes.

With her vision blurry, the elf's hands rushed to her quim. However, she could not feel any part of the living dildo; it had fully gone inside her. She tried to use one of her hands to part her labia, but they had grown puffy and oversensitive from the hours of stimulation. Just pressing the tip of her finger against them was enough to send a shiver down her spine. Ailill could not say if it was pleasurable or painful.

The overstimulated wizard could do nothing more than inhale deeply and push three fingers into her vagina. She had to get the toy out.

"Pleasepleasepleasepleaseplease," she begged as her fingers probed her own insides, searching for the slime.

Her hips bucked! It would seem that her body had not caught up to what was happening and decided to react as if she was just masturbating again. Ailill let a frustrated moan leave her lips; her mind focused on grabbing the toy.

Finally, she felt the gelatinous body of the slime. She grasped it, barely solid enough to hold onto it. She tried to drag it out. The slime itself was not happy with her plan; it offered resistance, trying to dig its way deeper into Ailill. Her quim, apparently on the side of the slime, tightened as the elf tugged at the toy. Her muscles clenched around the slime, as if they did not want to feel empty again.

Despite the trouble, Ailill managed to get the bottom of the living dildo out. However, as she did, the slime was once again exposed to a dry and much colder environment. It, whose half was still inside the elf, began to thrash.

"Stooop!" Ailill supplicated. But her words were not heard.

With a particularly strong shake, the slime managed to slap the elf's clit. The pleasure once more overwhelmed her, and she was forced to cum. She could do nothing more than release the slime. It was not too excited with what its host had just made it feel. So, it took matters into its own tendrils. It went back inside Ailill, but not in the same way. Its base stopped just at the entrance of her vagina. Then, it began to expand.

"No, please! No more!"

But Ailill had misunderstood. It was not trying to get her to cum again; it needed leverage. It pressed against the elf's labia just hard enough. With a wider base, it easily formed a thin surface, like an octopus's sucker. It "inhaled". Ailill felt another rush of arousal as the inside of her vagina tightened against her will. With that, the slime managed to make just enough of a vacuum to not hurt its host but ensure it was sealed inside.

The elf looked at her entrance. Poking just slightly was the base of the toy. She tried to grasp it again, but the slime had made it just concave enough for her fingers to not be able to grip it. Then, she began to claw at it. The result was the same. She even tried to push the tips of her fingers inside, but the seal did not allow them entry.

Defeated, she let her arms go limp.

Fennel will know what to do... I am never going to live this down...

Holding onto the wall, Ailill was just able to stand up. Her floor was soaked. Her clothes were too. She took them off and threw them onto the puddle; maybe that would suck at least part of it.

Resigned to her fate, she took a couple of steps to her bed.

A certain feeling stopped her in her tracks.

The slime pressed harder against the inside of her vagina. However, it had not moved. And yet, Ailill could feel how her muscles were clenching to try to accommodate it better, as if it had...

As if it had grown.

"Nononono," Ailill cried out as the slime inside her expanded.

Ailill had never focused too much on size; her own fingers were thin and dainty. So, she was woefully underprepared for what was going on inside her. The slime had been overfed for hours; instinctually, it wanted to continue developing. To keep expanding. It would not kill Ailill, but it would be more than willing to break her mind if that meant keeping her as its source of sustenance. For one second, she found the fantasy delightful. However, the rational part of her brain won out.

In a panic, Ailill began to think what could be done. There was no waiting for Fennel. She was unsure if she'd be able to make it to Warm Elixirs. She'd collapse on the way.

Gods, if only I hadn't let go when it began to thrash- wait, why did it begin to thrash?

It got cold, didn't it?

Ailill turned to her bathroom. To the tub, specifically.

If her body was colder, the slime would have to search for somewhere else to burrow in, wouldn't it?

The elf's plan was suddenly interrupted as a shiver shook her, forcing her to squat.

The living dildo was growing uncomfortable in the space it was in. It was starting to feel too cramped. It pushed deeper, trying to accommodate its widening shape; it had no concern for the feelings of its host. It pressed against the clenching muscles, overpowering them and just barely reaching the mouth of the elf's cervix. It gave it a slight press. Two things followed: the slime found that there was even more space to continue developing in. In other words, it had a new objective. Simultaneously, Ailill's vision went white; the pleasure grew to be intolerable, it had gone back full circle into feeling like pain. Her nerves could not process it.

If... If it keeps pushing... I am not recovering from it. They'll find me a mess.

My mind, it'll turn to mush. No, something even lower than that.

And Tarrakh, I'll never be able to...

That last thought terrified Ailill enough for her to take one step, and another, and another.,

As she did, the slime kept kissing the mouth of her cervix, trying to get the tight ring of flesh to relax just enough for it to grant the living dildo passage into the promised land it guarded so vehemently. Ailill could only respond with incoherent babbles, her brain desperate to keep her going, to keep her sane. She could only give furtive glances to her belly. The slime grew and grew, it pressed against the oversensitive tissue of the elf's vaginal canal; it had become large enough for its movements to be visible to the outside, Ailill's stomach bulged every time the slime rearranged itself, usually after every step she took. Unconsciously, the elf kneaded her breast; it seemed her own body was of two minds regarding the living dildo's attempt at overwhelming her with pleasure.

Uncertain as to how, Ailill made it to the edge of the tub. She blanked out a couple of times. She felt her consciousness begin to go once a thing tendril was able to penetrate into her uterus, where it carefully explored its new environment.

Ailill had no time to observe the trail of liquid that followed her from her room to the tub, a glistening path on the floor. The elf focused on trying to open the faucet. Such a simple act, but with her nerves as frayed as they were, overloaded with pleasure, it took an immense amount of effort. Once water started to flow, she climbed into the tub.

The water was so cold. Goosebumps surged all over her skin. As the tub filled more and more, Ailill even submerged her head, holding her breath as much as possible. All of her body had to grow cold enough for the slime to be uncomfortable. It was not happening fast enough, however. Feeling the change in temperature, the slime redoubled its efforts of widening the opening of the elf's cervix, hoping to grow warmer, drinking the juices from deeper inside Ailill.

With her last bits of energy, Ailill sunk her hands into the water and was barely able to chant:

"Frost," a weaker version of the Freeze spell.

From her finger tips, energy flowed. Minute crystals started to form, they attempted to use the cold water to expand even faster, turning it into a solid, into ice. However, the volume of the liquid was too large, but Ailill had taken that into account.

If she froze the water in the tub, the chances of getting frostbite, hypothermia, or worse, would shoot to the skies. Nevertheless, she had not released enough icy energy for that to happen. The water kept trying to solidify and it kept failing; it melted just enough before turning to ice, i. e., it became slush. By no means was this a pleasant experience, even if her sore muscles had briefly appreciated the feeling of the relaxing coldness, that sensation had long been left behind. The elf's arms and legs grew numb, her teeth began to chatter, every instinct telling her to leave the tub.

But the slime was going through the exact same thought process.

Ailill's insides were no longer the warm and safe space it desired. It began to slither out. The elf felt the core move from the edge of her cervix back down her vagina; the reddish glow through her skin made it clear when it reached her quim. The plug that the slime had created softened--it no longer wanted to be shut inside. The core pressed against Ailill's folds. It faced the same difficulty it had going in: her tightness. It pushed and pushed, the poor elf crying once again; she was overcome by pleasure, even if it did not really register anymore. She babbled and mumbled a combination of swears in the common and elvish tongue; she uttered different pleas for the slime to stop, as she had nothing else to give it, her mind reaching its limits. Finally, like a prayer, she began to repeat Tarrakh's name, begging for her beloved to give her strength.

Ailill clenched her legs, tightened her abdomen, and gave the slime whatever last push it could need. And then...

POP.

After the core left Ailill, the rest of the slime soon followed. Despite the slushy ice bath, her body was once more enveloped in the heat of orgasm. Her hands, neck, arms, legs, all tensed as the pleasure washed over her, threatening to drown her and wash away whatever bits of sanity could remain. But she endured. As the last aftershock began to hit, she felt herself melting into the cold water: it flowed into the slight prolapse the slime had left on its way out. Despite how it hardened her clit, it also soothed the overexerted muscles of her insides. She began to close her-

The slime!

Despite her exhaustion, she would not be making the same mistake again.

She grabbed the living dildo; the cold had made it sluggish. It did not even react as she pressed her fingers on its core.

"Freeze," Ailill cast.

Crystals enveloped the sphere. Cut from the rest of its body, the thick liquid surrounding it began to dissolve into the slush.

Ailill left the tub. She wrapped herself in a towel. As she did, she found her reflection looking back at her.

She looked blissed out, if extremely disheveled. Her hair was a wet mess, and her body could barely support her weight, so she slouched. Some snot flowed from her nose; she was getting a cold, she was sure. And yet, as she held the orb, only one word came to her mind.

"Coward."

All of this because she had not been able to invite the woman who she pined for.

With a groan, she walked to her bed, not before leaving the frozen core back in its bottle. She collapsed on the bed, barely able to cover herself with the sheets.

I wonder if the slime is still alive. Fennel will be so mad if...

She was not able to finish her thought.

She fell asleep.

.....

"Fun night?" Eryn asked Ailill as the drained elf stepped back into the main area of Warm Elixirs. The elf's talk with Fennel over.

"Shude," she responded, her best attempt at saying "Sure" with her stuffy nose.

Eryn looked at the jar in Ailill's hands. A floating purple core inside it.

"You keeping the slime?"

"Yes, it mutated at some point last night," the elf knew perfectly why, even as she acted coy with her friend. Fennel had been given the report. The change to the core meant it was not fit for pleasure anymore. However, Ailill felt terrible at the notion of the creature dying because of her irresponsibility.

"I will be keeping it as a pet. Fennel gave me clear instructions."

"Thought you hated slimes."

"I... I still do, but I can't help it. The little guy grew on me."

In me, the elf thought.

"The color is cute," the hellborn replied with a smile.

Barely able to walk, Ailill left the potion shop. She was going to sleep for the rest of the day.

Ailill's notes were of great help in finalizing the slime. Fennel had to add a few extra safety measures in case there was an accident like this one again. It made the prices for the toy rise a bit. However, even as they began to sell it under the table, the adventurers of Nuovoun appeared to be more than willing to pay for it. The pair did have to add that, under no circumstances, was one to go to bed with a living dildo inside them. The elf's notes had actually ended with the phrase:

"Not fit for sleep play!"

Eryn was incredibly curious as to what could've prompted her friend to be so insistent about the topic, but Fennel said their lips were sealed. If their wife wanted to know, she'd have to ask Ailill herself.

Out of all citizens, adventurers were the primary buyers of the slime sex toy. Apparently, the hypothesis of them being all freaks was not as fantastical as it would've first appeared. Slowly but surely, recouping the investments for the arcane forge and hiring the Nimble Ferrets did not seem impossible. The pair of shopkeepers quickly ran into another problem, however.

A client wanted to commission them.

.....

As Ailill collapsed onto her bed, her body exhausted from the experience with the slime, she was completely ignorant of the pair that observed her.

"She'd be a good source of food, don't you think?" he asked her.

"Maybe, but I have never enjoyed treats that break too easily, as pretty as they may be."

"Hmmm. You're right," he replied, "they do lack deeper flavors."

"I may have an alternative proposal, however," her tone of voice indicated both curiosity and desire.

"Oh? What are you planning?"

"Have you seen the holy woman?"

"Yes, she's adorable," he replied.

"No, you moron! Her holy symbol!"

"I believe so, the Oozing Wound, is it not?"

She nodded in reply.

"What of it?"

"If you paid any attention to what your lovers moan as you drain them, you'd realize that they have some fascinating things to say. For example, that the Kin that live in that plane are not allowed to worship the Scarlet Pulse, their wonderful Church of the 12 forbids it."

"You have a plan, then?"

"Maybe," she winked cutely.

"Devious, my dear. Hmmm, a holy woman, haven't had one of those in a while. Wonder if she'll moan her god's name or ours by the end of the night."

The pair laughed, licking their lips in anticipation.