Goo'd Girls Pt. 05

She looked in, and saw what can only be described as a temple.

The space was enormous. Far too big to exist down here, so close to the surface. By rights, they already should have been half-way into the town by now, it didn't make any sense.

Only, it did. The power Sonja could feel, like electricity tickling her face as she pressed it up to the stone - it was immense.

There was an open area with deep carvings in the floor she couldn't make out. Statues stood on both sides, and three at the end with faces that defied the anatomy of any person - or monster - Sonja knew. They were twisted and hateful, teeth bared and eyes wide, in a trifecta above the altar.

And there was an altar - a table-like plinth with a short tower underneath to steady it, all carved from the same stone as the caverns themselves. Around the altar, around the faces, there was a deep orange light that filled the space, showing off the glistening curves and sharp edges of the statues, and finding its way through the crack in the wall here.

Sonja, COME!

She reared back, filled with purpose anew, and slammed her bare shoulder into the stone. She winced at the pain, but did it again, and again, until her shoulder popped out of its socket. Sonja screamed, then turned, and used her other shoulder, ramming again and again and again, until finally, the stone gave way.

The crack opened under her assault, and Sonja crashed through, shoulder-first, as the razor-sharp stone sliced her chest open. She cried out, but was so tired from her exertions that it was too dry and frail to fill the room. Instead, she just shuddered, and cried, in this temple to things more powerful than she.

Sonja, the voice spoke, softer now. It no longer needed to call her - she was in its world, now. You have done so well, disciple of Ozloth.

'Oz... Ozloth?' Sonja wheezed, managing to right herself onto her knees, almost in prayer. Orange light bathed her.

She saw the statues, all around her, unmoving and yet focused on her, their eyes carved to all convene on her naked, vulnerable shape. She recognised some of them - one was the most violent Ogre she'd ever seen, with a deep scar over his eye and broken teeth; Rannagar, the Ogre King. Another was a Harpy-like woman, but she was more regal than any Harpy she and the Witches had ever fought.

Ozloth made you, the voice hummed, rising up through her. It felt like honey. Velvet. Ozloth was unmade.

One statue wasn't looking at her - it was a crumpled mess of stone, on her left side. The chunks of stone were broken and smashed, but aspects of it remained in the ruins. She recognised her Slime-demon maker, even in death.

'Ozloth,' she repeated, understanding. She looked up at the three faces. 'I will not be him. I won't.'

You will be made again, Sonja. Ozloth's totem need not act in his image. You will serve yourself, and yourself alone.

Sonja thought about that. About not serving Ozloth - not being just a part of him.

The thing she had, against all else, loved about being a Witch - or a slime-thing for that matter - was the power. Of knowing she could help people. Make a difference. Right now, she was no one.

But, if she had power again...

Do you accept?

Sonja looked up, into the eyes of the three faces, above the altar, and nodded her head.

'I accept.'

Immediately, the eyes flashed the brightest orange, making Sonja bring up her damaged arm to block it out, but nothing could stop the energy that washed over her.

Warm and slick and welcome, Sonja sighed as the pain vanished. She couldn't see anything - the light was blinding - but she felt that energy fly at her, more and more of it, sinking into her as she was pushed backwards onto the stone.

'AHH!' she screamed, as her body was suddenly assaulted with pleasure - pleasure she had missed so dearly. It coursed through her, like lightning, through her chest and her stomach and her sex - all alight with energy and screaming with joy. 'FUCK! FUCK!'

It was too much - in under half a minute, Sonja was thrown towards her first orgasm, and her second before a full minute was up; she came on the stone, writhing and moaning, her hands working again and unable to resist touching herself.

She felt her sex, wet and eager; her tits, sensitive to the touch and glowing under the light; her lips, full and smooth; her skin, unblemished and healthy.

She was renewed.

You are made again, the voice said.

The light faded, and Sonja's mewled on the floor as the orgasm subsided, shuddering in pleasure, a new goal clear in her mind.

I have to save my friends.

Kat and Maya, who had saved her life so many times, they were out there in the world, still Witches. Still beholden to the mountain. They didn't know how good it was to be free - to have power of your own. To be something more than just one of three.

Go, the voice said, and Sonja stood. Her body was alight, and she could see in herself, as she held up her hands, that there was something... new going on. She'd been re-made, but not in Ozloth's image. In her own.

Now she just had to figure out what that meant, exactly.

* * *

The sun hung low behind the mountain, and a shadow was being cast over Melmana as Professor Willow Felder walked through the Western exit to the Instructionary, her glasses on the tip of her nose and her stack of papers to mark in a satchel, swung over one arm. She was in a bad mood, what with the first-years making it their apparent mission to turn these last few, blessed days of term into hell.

Prof. Felder took a moment to enjoy a glimpse of sunlight as the ray washed over her, before the shadow crept in. It was nice. A bird flittered overhead, and she could smell the nearby cafe's signature smell of coffee and baked goods lifting her spirits already.

She just thanked that, while some of the faculty chose to live on-site in the Instructionary, it wasn't mandated. That way, she was able to get home and see her darling husband after a long-arse day of dealing with lay-abouts and children who can't tell their ciphers from their riddles.

Cryptology was an interesting field, but the children didn't seem to think so.

The streets were busy with adults - glorious adults - as they made their ways between their businesses and their homes, flitting around the town having conversations about intelligent things and finding ways to spend their wages for the day.

Prof. Felder walked home the short way, just wanting to get back to her husband, but as she rounded a corner and saw her lovely little two-story home across the way, it was apparent that all of the lights were out. He wasn't home yet.

Prof. Felder sighed, and crossed the way with a little less pep in her step, unlocking and pushing the front door open with a sigh, closing it behind her.

Lights came on with a twist of the button, letting fire spark up, powered by the sun's light that had been soaked up by the stones within all day long. It had been a fairly pleasant day, so she should get a few hours out of them.

Willow - at home, she was Willow - dropped her satchel full of school-stuff, next to her favourite chair. 'I should get started on you, shouldn't I?' she said to the pile of work inside. 'Maybe... but mummy needs her tonic first.'

It was a silly joke, and nobody was there to tell her it wasn't funny, so Willow giggled to herself before heading downstairs to the cellar - her little pet-project shared by her husband.

They both loved wine.

Well, her husband loved collecting it. Willow loved drinking it, especially when she had work to bring home and mark that she knew would be awful. She could feel it in her bones.

Willow, then, found a bottle they had already opened near the doorway, with an artificial cork in the top replacing the one they'd popped a few nights ago. Willow smiled at the memory - date night, when her husband had surprised her with a gorgeous meal and wine, and a long night of love-making.

A little thrill went through her as she took the bottle by the neck, and went looking for something to accompany it. There was a small ice-box area down here they used to freeze fruit that only grew in the winter, keeping it fresh for the summer - namely, a type of local grape that was used to make this wine. It was called a Bitting Grape, and dropping one or two, frozen, into a glass of the matching wine can really bring out the flavours.

And the alcohol.

Willow opened the ice box door, pulled out the box of grapes, turned, and saw something that made her frown.

The wall, down here in the cellar, had a crack in it, where the wood had splintered. Which was fine - things happened around here. The thing that made her frown, really, was that there was supposed to be a wall behind the wood - instead, the soft glow of the stones down here revealed what looked like a walkway back there.

And something moving.

* * *

Sonja saw movement through the crack in the wall.

A couple of hours had passed since her time in the temple, after leaving to discover herself, and the shaking ground had caused more issues than she'd expected. A few cellars had popped open, cracking like walnuts under the strain of the walls reverberating outwards.

Sonja had found one just like that, which still, after all these hours, hadn't been patched up. And, as she peered through, she saw someone looking back.

Someone who looked rather tasty.

Sonja shuddered at her first look at another person in weeks. She was... a teacher.

Holy shit, that was Professor Felder. Sonja's mind reeled for a moment; Prof. Felder was a teacher she'd never had that much overlap with, but Sonja never ignored a woman who looked like that, even before all of... this.

That made the decision for her.

The crack was barely a n inch or so wide, but Sonja knew that wouldn't be the issue. The issue would be getting through and not letting her run, or scream, or generally do any of the things her victims tended to do.

Victims. For some reason, Sonja liked that word.

Prof. Felder approached the crack, and Sonja moved back, but just a hair too late.

'Hello?' Prof. Felder asked into the gap. 'Is... is there someone in there?'

Sonja pulled in a breath, looked inwards, and hoped that, in the boons and gifts granted to her by those faces in the temple, there was something that would help her. She knew, ultimately, that she would have to work on instinct, however. Just go with what felt right.

So, she did.

Sonja reached through the gap, arm stretching and dissolving its shape; It found Prof. Felder's neck, and gripped her as she reeled back, holding her in place and using her momentum to pull Sonja through.

'What the FUCK?!' Prof. Felder yelled, before Sonja's 'hand' lifted, covering those lovely lips with a flat cover of dark green slime. 'MMMFH!'

Sonja pulled herself through as Prof. Felder tripped, panic setting in, and dropped the wine bottle on the ground. It hit the wood and smashed, red wine exploding all over the wood as glass shards spread around them.

But Prof. Felder wasn't paying attention to any of that. Her view was filled by the horror she'd heard about, weeks ago, pulling itself into her cellar.

From the dark, a monster emerged - green and translucent, and yet not without form. It was stretched and awful, and came through head- and chest-first, before a leg and the other arm followed.

The professor began to cry, fear sinking so deep into her that it didn't even feel real.

The monster stepped into her life, and approached. It stepped on glass without a care, wine soaking up into its slime, creating a red-green mix around its feet, until it was standing over her.

Sonja watched the professor, once a figure of authority, scramble in her wine-soaked clothes, try to scramble away. But Sonja was going with her instincts, and as she held onto the Professor's mouth, she felt something...

Something new.

She thought of how the old slime monster - Ozloth - had been able to create a copy of her. Sonja didn't want to do that; she preferred the real thing. But, maybe she could do something more... her.

She thought of Amelia, how she had enveloped her, becoming a layer over her skin, and pushing the rest of her inside the begging-for-it baker. It had been messy, and clumsy, but it was a proof of concept - and that was when Sonja was a fraction of the power she had now.

So, Sonja approached, shortening her arm and bending at the waist until she was looming over the Professor.

She looked so scared... but she wouldn't for long.

Sonja, with all of the patience in the world, sank down onto the professor - legs first, then body, arms. Then, finally, while looking into her teary eyes, Sonja pushed her face to the Professor's.

'Don't be scared,' Sonja said. 'You're so beautiful... I will take such good care of you.'

Then, Sonja's head sank down, over the Professor's face, enveloping her.

* * *

The tingling started soft - from Willow's feet, upwards; her heart was beating like a hummingbird, as the monster fucking took her. She knew what this thing did - there had been stories going around the school, but she'd half-hoped they were exaggerations.

Of course, that student had gone missing... What was her name again? Sofia?

Oh god, Willow thought as the slime encoated her thighs, and that tingling became an impossible-to-ignore impulse to... to spread. She was trapped in place, but all she wanted to do was let it in.

Of course, a moment later, it was soaking into her hips, and as the slime sank into her sex, already a little wet from her memory-lane trip, she whined in denial. She didn't want it to feel as good as it did; so cool and slick and eager, buzzing in all the right places as it slipped inside her.

It's in! Her body tried to deny the feeling of it, but as the slime stretched her most private areas, it was starting to feel better and better. Her clit was being played with, too, as the slime sank further up her body.

When it reached her breasts, finding her sensitive nipples hard and erect beneath her shirt, Willow whined again, trying to fight away the orgasm that was building inside her. Her shoulders, neck - all of her was pinned down. The helplessness made her think of her husband...

The way he would grip her neck as they made love, playing on the power-exchange fantasies she had. Calling her Miss as he took her had always been a sure-fire way to make her cum, and part of that was the fact that she, willingly, gave up her power to him.

This was different, but all of the same parts of her were reacting right now.

Willow's eyes rolled back as the slime settled into her face, into her mouth, over her tongue, past her glasses and into her soft, brunette locks.

There was no choking, even as it slipped down her throat. No struggle.

In fact, just as she was sure she was about to cum, it was... gone.

'GHAAAAH!' she yelled, sucking in air. Right on the edge of an orgasm, body absolutely alight, Willow was free. She patted her hands against her clothing, expecting them to be soaked, or even melted away - but, instead, they were perfectly dry, aside from the wine that had started to seep into her back.

Willow, confused, stood.

Alone in the room.

Oh, this is different, Willow heard.

'Hello?' she hissed, too scared to speak louder than a whisper, spinning in the room to see around her. Her shoe crunched on some glass, and she stumbled a little - but, quicker than she expected of herself, she was righted, standing straight.

Ahh... you feel good. Willow, your name is Willow...

'What... what's happening?' she asked the empty room.

Last time, I wasn't able to do anything like this. It's so... intimate, don't you think. Oh, you smell delicious, and I'm sorry for leaving you without... satisfaction. Would you like some?

'Wh-what?' Willow asked nobody. She staggered towards the door, trying not to think about how fucking close she'd been. 'You're... I'm going mad.'

Oh, not at all. But, let's not go anywhere just yet.

Willow stopped moving, limbs frozen mid-step, right at the bottom of the stairway. 'How...'

I've been inside a fair few people, now, the voice told her. And I've... coated myself across people. I thought I'd be out of practice, as it was a little while ago, but... turns out I'm a natural. And this feels so much better. How does it feel, Willow?

Willow didn't know what to say, so she just answered truthfully. 'I... it feels weird.'

Do you feel good? You can be honest with me. Nothing goes unshared.

'I... I feel like I was about to cum, and now my body keeps moving without me, or won't move when I want it to. I'm scared.'

Ah. Natural. Well, I'll explain, so it's a little less confusing, shall I?

You might have forgotten this, your brain probably erased lots of interesting stuff from when you were a student, because your head's all full of smart things - but we were taught by Mr. B'nala that the human body is made up of cells, yes?

'I... yes, okay?'

And those cells are mostly liquid. Water. Well, Willow, it turns out I am also mostly water. Add in a dash of sentience, and a little magical upgrade, and it turns out I am able to... host myself in your cells.

Willow's head was reeling. 'My... what?!'

Right now, physically speaking, there's basically no difference between you and me, Willow. I'm not just in you, or on you. I am your cells, swirling around you, your brain, organs, all of that soft skin. Which means, I can do... this...

Willow gasped, and that gasp quickly turned into a moan; she couldn't move, as the monster had taken control of her body, but it had left her her mouth, and voice.

'FUCK! What... oh god - what have you doonne...?'

That's called, 'I own your clit, baby'. Now, Willow. I have a few things I need to get done, so I'm going to take you for a ride; but I promise, I'll make sure you're rewarded with feelings like that, and a lot more. Agreed?

'You... you're not going to hurt me?'

No! No, I'm not a killer, Willow. I'm a being of persuasion. Pleasure. I'm a good girl, Willow. Are you?

Willow, after a moment of thinking about it, still reeling a little from the near-instant orgasm, nodded. 'Just, don't hurt me, or my husband. Or anyone else.'

'Thank you,' Willow's mouth, and voice said. But they weren't her words. Her body started to move, without her will, up the stairs and into her house. It was the strangest feeling in the world - but at least she was safe in the knowledge that this monster wasn't going to hurt her. Well, what was she supposed to do? Fight?

No, she just had to let this play out until the monster moved on to someone else, then she could tell the Witches, or something. Find someone who could help.

For now, she just let it take over.

* * *

Kat looked out over the night sky from a corridor window. Few corridors connected to the exterior of the Instructionary, most of them running against the mountain walls, with the classrooms and bunkrooms on the outside, to catch the light. This was less of a corridor, however, and more a branch that came out, at a ninety-degree angle from the actual corridor, with a classroom on the left and right of her. So, right at the end of this branch, there was a single pane of glass that looked out at the sky, stars overhead, the moon somewhere on the other side of the Mountain.