File :-(, x, )
Anonymous
Catherine II Romaiah brushed off the dust and cobwebs that clung to her somewhat battered plate-mail. She turned around, puffing up a lock of silver-grey hair that had fallen out from the beautifully made braid she kept it in when she was out "working", sending it sailing slowly first up and then settling, a little bent, over her head. The paladin shook her head lightly to let it set into place before sheathing her blade, the trickle of dark kobold blood set aside temporarily, but she made a mental note to clean it off as soon as she could; it would not do of a knight... well... apprentice knight of the Order of the Rising Sun let her blade rust, would it?

Her attention snapped back to the corridor she had just been traversing, a clear trail of broken spider web and footprints in the dust where she had walked. Although the many torches lining the wall were alit, she suspected foul magick at work, there was hardly any shadow despite the flickering flames being the only source of light. She saw the foot of the last kobold she'd slain, a angry little thing who'd set off a bolt of magic missile at her; apparantly some kind of leader of the tribe, she couldn't be bothered to delve deeper into that.
>> Anonymous
Then, as her brain began to black out, as her lips had turned blue in cold and with lack of oxygen, the blob was gone, seeping through the cracks in the floor underneath her. Giving one final slurping sound before disappearing, it left her slick, drenched, coughing and quivering. Gallons of the goop poured out of her mouth as she emptied her lungs and stomach forcefully, old remains of half-digested food mixed with the shimmering, oily thing.

"D-d-d-damn it all!" She shouted, suddenly flailing her arms around her, awokened from a bad dream. "Damn it all to hell!" She stomped, shrieked, angry at herself and the embarrassment she had suffered. She grasped for her sword, at first barely seeing it because of the film of goo over her eyes, but soon she saw it, gleaming on the floor. She bent down to lift it and...

*SCHLOP* Her hands, covered in the goop as if by a second skin, failed to get a grip of the handle. It slid away effortlessly. She tried again, and again, yet she couldn't even wipe the stuff off her. "DAMN IT ALL!" She shouted again, her voice echoing down the corridor. What had she done to deserve this? Stupid ooze, stupid quest, stupid villagers, stupid Order!
>> Anonymous
She leaned heavily against a wall, panting and still, still coughing up more of that accursed slime with every breath. Her braid had become undone and her beautiful gray hair hung in clungs around her head. Her eyes were dazed and unfocused and her lips quivered with every heavy breath she took, the sudden pleasure too much for her to bear. Despite her training, she longed, lusted for the wild, hot, untamed sex of males. She didn't care what kind of species... in fact, she didn't care what gender either, she'd fuck anything, ANYTHING. Her thoughts went from human males, rippling with muscles, cocky grins on their faces as their swollen and thundering cocks slammed into her to elves, their perky breasts jiggling only so slightly as she herself thrust into them with her own dick.

Oh how she needed it! She rubbed over her armour with her hands, the cold, hard steel offering no release. Yet she pressed harder and harder, but her hands met with the same resistance. She opened her eyes and looked down, realizing suddenly that her fingers were long, stretched, grey. They looked on the verge of bursting as, as she was watching, they suddenly exploded in a shower of grey goo, the feeling nothing short but orgasmic. She shrieked in pleasure as suddenly her feet, unable to keep her up, imploded upon themselves, her flesh and bones, now nothing but liquid, pouring out between the metallic plates.
>> Anonymous
And then her legs, every droplet of her felt as if they had a whole nerve-cluster of her own, and as her legs burst like overfull baloons, she slammed her armored arms against the wall in uncontrollable passion. Her arms, like her legs, then splashed into tiny, tiny droplets of the same-colored goo as what had attacked her. No, she realized as she was only a torso, swelling to the point of exploding without any contact, it had set her on a course of becoming free. Her breasts were expanding, she felt it clearly as her nipples erupted in a final torrent of tissue-gone-fluid before they too lost their form and former function. Finally, her gray and swollen lips whispering a last groan of pleasure, her face fell in upon itself, a puddle of gray liquid all that remained of Catherine II Romaiah
>> Anonymous
Then suddenly she was awake. And lost. She felt shock, terror overcoming her. She couldn't feel anything, couldn't hear anything, couldn't see anything! She tried to move, yet it was fruitless, her limbs wouldn't react, her arms and legs weren't there. She wanted to scream, yet her lungs, her lips, nothing was there!

Panic... panic... but no pain. She waited, hoping someone would release her from this torment. Then she realized, with a sudden clarity she could not hope to explain, that someone was coming. She felt it. For a moment she couldn't understand how, but then she knew, and could put it in words. She had felt the footsteps. Hundreds of feet away, through tunnels and passages, walls and falls, she had felt the faraway footsteps of a woman clad in armour. How could she feel that?

She could feel! She felt every tremor of every movement in her body; she felt the cold touch of the stone, the hard edges of the metal; the drenched fabric of cloth that she... SHE was soaking! She heard everything, because with every sound her being vibrated, only slightly, but every drop of her was like the most alert eye, ear, hand, mouth... She had never been so free before! Her human body had been a prison, walls over her every sense! She could taste the stone's texture! She could even move, seeping out of the cracks and notches in the stone, running out of the cloth she'd been wearing just now, leaving them as dry as they had been when she'd worn them.
>> Anonymous
And then she knew who was coming... It was one of the sisters of her order, a friend of hers... Michelle. She suddenly felt an explosion of warmth in her being, hot bubbles of air rippling through her, sending shivers throughout her thick, syrupy self. The bubbles burs on the surface, and she jiggled with ecstacy! She tried moving as if she was walking, but it got her nowhere. She had no limbs, no muscles, nothing of her former self. That she could think, feel, like she used to... Incomprehensible. Yet she could, and she felt something else as well. She needed to procreate...

She felt uncomfortable floating like this, yet she did not miss the limitations of her former, frail constitution. She simply wished for what could be, perhaps, called limbs, and suddenly she had them. She was now a body, the body of a woman, yet far more. Her bust, her waist, hips, behind, everything adapted and changed to her will. Her shapes were only superficial, organs would be far too complicated to keep up, but this would serve her well. She still felt with her whole being, a massive single-sensory that made every inch of her movement an explosion of orgasmic experiences, she would never grow tired of this. Her massive chest, nipples thick yet as translucent gray as the rest of her body, rippled with every step both she and Michelle took. Soon they would come upon one another, Catherine realized with intentful glee, and then she would share her new form with her friend... But first she'd play with her...
>> Anonymous
wasted effort, you suck