A Study in Purple

Her mouth engulfed him. Wet, sticky, and slightly warm, her mouth molded itself to the man's shaft and massaged him lovingly from all directions at once. Thomas felt his knees buckle, moaning breathily as the stimulation assaulted him. Her tongue was deliberate, teasing, relentless. He was at the brink of orgasm in minutes, eyes unable to focus as her soft, slippery mouth brought him to new heights of pleasure. The alchemist thrust his hips forward, desperate for more, building to a mind-breaking climax... and then nothing.

The slime burbled happily, her slick purple fingers kneading his balls as her tongue lapped at his glans. Blearily, Thomas looked down at the creature, her expression almost smug. She held him just at the edge, easing him down before renewing the blissful heat in his loins, minute after euphoric minute. It was unbearable but it felt too good to stop. Thomas pleaded, whimpering promises with each teasing lick and slurp. Time had no meaning - there was only the ecstatic agony of now.

Thomas leaned helplessly against the glass cage, knees barely able to support himself, when at last she let him cum. Pleasure exploded through his body as his balls emptied themselves, ropes of hot semen pumping themselves into the slime girl's mouth. He watched in lurid fascination as they pushed through her throat, white strands suspended in her body as she guzzled hungrily. There's so much... he thought, still half-blind with pleasure and relief. When his hips stopped bucking she began to suck again, drawing the last few drops into her mouth before at last letting go.

The alchemist collapsed. He was exhausted beyond words, vision fading in and out as he watched his own fluids dissolve within the creature's translucent purple body. He was going to lose consciousness, he realized. The other apprentices would find him, pants around his waist, dick covered in the sticky remnants of his illicit coupling. He'd be expelled if he was lucky. At worst, they could charge him with Interfering in Royal Business - a capital offence in time of war.

The slime turned, watching him, a smile flickering across her face as she licked her lips. "Yum!"

Her voice was a wet chirp, discordant but clearly understandable. She could speak? Thomas's mind began to race. This ran counter to everything alchemy knew about the species - they were practically mindless. How had she talked? Had she talked? How did that fit in with her taking human form? With questions bubbling over in his mind, Thomas's eyes flickered closed and he slept.

It was still dark when he awoke, and Thomas pushed himself to his feet. He wiped awkwardly at his penis with a sleeve, attempting with moderate success to clean off the purple slickness before pulling up his trousers. His candles had guttered out, but from the window he could see the first glimmer of dawn creeping over the horizon.

The slime was still in her - its - cage, now a dormant puddle of purple goop. Thomas sighed deeply. It hadn't been a dream, but what had happened? He wanted to write to Master Caine immediately, to tell him what had transpired, but how could he without explaining his own role in it? Clearly the creature had seduced him somehow - there was no explanation for him acting such of his own volition. Would Caine believe that? It was possible. Thomas was his star pupil, entrusted with his most important work. But would the magistrate? The king? Thomas flushed deeply, imagining his explanation of a cross-species blowjob to the royal court. No, this couldn't get out. He was the only one who knew, after all. Right?

Thomas's eyes widened. Unless... Would she - it - talk to someone else? It had never manifested like that before the other students. Perhaps he was special in some way? The alchemist sighed. His relief would be here in twenty minutes, so there was no use in speculating now. Perhaps tomorrow night, some sort of arrangement could be made. Or... well, he'd just have to wait and see.

Thomas busied himself tidying up the lab, doing his best to arrange everything as though he'd been studying the whole night. He took some slapshod notes in the research journal. Pleased with his subterfuge, he settled back down in front of Contemplative Concoctions. Perhaps a little skimming was in order. This was going to be fine, Thomas told himself. Nothing to worry about. And most importantly, there was no way that could happen again.