tagNonHumanThe Big, Bad Blob That Ate Alice

The Big, Bad Blob That Ate Alice


Alice Connelly stood by Blue Lake. Well, it wasn't exactly blue. Years ago, some romantic saw the clear sky reflect off the water and named it Blue Sky Lake. Somewhere along the way "Sky" got dropped; no one knew why. Between the moment the name changed and Alice's presence, the U. S. government fought wars against the Fascists and the Reds, bought the land, built a base, did mysterious things on it, tore down the buildings, sold the land and left. A private developer bought the land, built some cabins, posted ads touting the area as a secluded getaway, and then went back to his expensive mansion to watch the money roll in; he didn't make much.

"What a dump," she thought. "This place sucks. Solitude sucks. Unfaithful boyfriends and backstabbing best friends suck. Why did I come here? Oh right, the unfaithful boyfriend and backstabbing best friend thing." Alice's face twisted slightly, the wound was still raw; catching them in bed wasn't the bad part. Well actually it was pretty bad, but the lack of remorse was the killer.

Jane looked especially defiant, the corner of her mouth twitched upward ("Was that a smirk?"). Jane, who she'd known since junior high; BFF Jane ("Ex-BFF Jane"); secretly jealous, smile to her face, whisper behind her back, secret underminer Jane. Roy the Weasel, didn't even have the guts to look at her. She screamed and yelled, they gave excuses. Roy's excuses ranged from, "I needed space," to "I thought this was an open relationship." Jane's excuse was a distinctly unapologetic, "It just happened."

There was nothing left to do except move out of the apartment. The question was where else to go? Alice needed a place to stay, at least for the summer. Her mother was out; Mary Agnes Connelly, strictly Catholic, very traditional, no sex outside marriage. She had enough problems with her lapsed daughter.

She crossed off her sister: Sarah's house was full of kids and a fat husband, "and she's just as bad as Mom." The few friends who weren't stolen or spoiled by Jane were either back home, on vacation, or had boyfriends in small apartments: "I'd be one girl too many. On second thought, forget seeing anybody. I'll just find a dark corner and crawl into it."

She found Blue Lake by accident, browsing through websites. A serendipitous click brought her to the aforementioned developer's ad: "Need solitude? Want privacy? At Blue Lake you'll find both. Cheap cabins, well furnished, to rent." Alice didn't think twice: another click, a direct deposit, and she had her corner. The cabins were in upstate New York.

She didn't tell anyone where she was going. It took a day and a half to reach Blue Lake. The clerk at the main cabin was an old man right out of Norman Rockwell. He was a nervous old fellow, a very quaint guy. "We don't get many people 'round these parts, especially a girl as 'purdy' as you," he said. Alice was actually flattered; he didn't strike her as a dirty old man, and she liked the way he said 'pretty'. Most people thought Alice was pretty hot; she thought so too, not as a matter of ego but as a matter of fact. "Didn't stop Roy from fucking Jane. How could he? She's a twig and her boobs are smaller," she thought.

Other than a case of the cutes from the old clerk, Alice was exhausted. She had just come off a marathon drive and wanted a cabin, shower, and bed. She signed in, grabbed the keys, said a quiet thank you, and went to the car. As she drove away she looked in the rear-view mirror; the old man was shouting something. She thought she heard the word "lake" but was too focused on finding the cabin to care.

Alice got lost. It took an extra hour's worth of driving and backtracking through the labyrinthine trails before she found her cabin. What she found inside didn't surprise her, "Figures, after the day I had." She spent another two hours cleaning the disaster area that was the cabin's interior. An extra hour unpacking followed by an extraordinarily cold shower (which the noisy, vibrating pipes grudgingly gave up after much coaxing....and begging). Alice's near total exhaustion overcame her strong temptation to pack her bags, check out, and head into town to find a hotel. She collapsed into bed and slept for twelve hours.

Alice spent the next week cleaning, sulking, and brooding until the cabin gained some semblance of order. She made occasional trips to the local town for food and supplies. She kept to herself. A few of the townies ( usually men, sometimes women) tried to engage her in conversation. She was polite but rebuffed them all the same. Alice's pain was her new friend. She wallowed in misery and self pity for a week before she decided "Misery and self pity sucks." It was time to leave the cabin and explore. "There's a lake nearby. I think I'll go look for it," she thought.

The lake was easy to find. The townies had mentioned the rumors surrounding the lake. The army base; the secret experiments; the occasional disappearance. "X-Files conspiracy crap," she sniffed. Her college-educated brain placed townie superstition on the same list as her mother's Catholicism.

If there was an army base, all traces were gone. There were no buildings. The only signs of life were high grass, cattails, and trees. She noted a small wooden raft in the center of the lake. "A nice spot for sunbathing." The lake was calm and flat like a mirror. The place was unusually quiet. Alice was not impressed. "Well, I guess I'm stuck here for the summer. It sucks. I think I'll blame Roy for everything bad that's going to happen this summer." She already blamed Jane for everything that came before. Alice disdainfully turned back toward the path. She didn't notice the small duck that landed on the water and vanished with a startled quack.

The next day marked the start of a major heat wave which would linger in the area for several weeks. It dawned a warm, humid 70 and by noon had climbed to a scorching 90. Alice's air conditioner chose that day to go on strike. The cabin turned into an oven. She called the old man; he promised a repairman the next day. Alice would have to make do until then. "OK," she thought, "I'll go to the lake."

She packed suntan lotion, bottled water, a book, a radio, a couple of tuna sandwiches, and a beach blanket into a watertight bag. She did her business before she left. Alice didn't like the idea of shitting outdoors; there didn't seem to be any outhouses around the area. She planned to swim and sunbathe until the evening. "The cabin should be cool by then," she thought. She put on her favorite bikini: the red one with the white polka dots. She put on a blouse and jeans and walked to the lake.

Alice stowed her clothes in the tall grass, tied the bag to her waist, and waded into the water. She was a good swimmer. Her previous summers were spent as a Lake Michigan lifeguard. It took her several minutes to reach the raft. She unpacked the bag, spread the blanket, and dove into the lake. She swam and floated for a quarter hour and returned to the raft. Her thoughts turned to Roy. "Why Jane of all people?" Jane was pretty but she was no match for Alice. "Maybe that's the point," she thought. There was pretty and there was beautiful. Alice was beautiful.

She never flaunted it but there it was. Alice developed early, her skin cleared first, her braces came off at thirteen. Jane was second fiddle. "There must have been a lot of jealousy there," Alice thought. It didn't excuse what she did. Alice looked at herself. She was 5'4", had long arms and legs, a nice, well-shaped bubble ass, perfect 36C breasts, a taut, flat belly. Her shoulder-length hair was a deep, rich, dark brown. Her eyes were dark amber. She had a classically Greek nose, soft, pillowy lips, a wide mouth, perfect teeth. Alice didn't wear much makeup and toned down her appearance but men (and occasionally women) looked anyway. Conversely, when the occasion called for it, she didn't mind flaunting her figure, whether it was at the beach or some get together.

She discovered early on that beauty was power. Alice never thought it would go to her head. "I guess I don't think about my effect on other people." Sometimes she earned a little extra money at the college by posing nude for art classes. Alice was a psychology major. She wanted to use her brain to succeed but knew her body could prove an asset. All of this still couldn't explain Roy.

"I have the curves. I have the looks. And he fucked Jane. Is something wrong with me?" She wasn't needy or clingy like other girlfriends. She wasn't frigid. Alice liked sex but wasn't a slut. She didn't try to control him or pick out his clothes. She put up with his habits and he put up with hers, or so she thought. "I thought we had a good thing." Alice ate the sandwiches, drank some water, and thought some more: "It can't be me, it's gotta be him."

Alice got out the suntan lotion and started to spread it on her skin. She looked around. In the past week she'd found most of the cabins were deserted; people seemed to avoid this area for some reason: "Those rumors again," she thought. "Nobody around. Total isolation. Maybe I can get rid of these tan lines." Alice took off her bikini top, exposing her perfect breasts. "God I love these," she thought, "and they're natural too. Jane must have been so jealous." She spread suntan lotion on them, and then she looked down and thought, "All the tan lines." She took off her bottoms, revealing her neatly trimmed pussy.

Alice slathered her body (getting her back was difficult). She lay on her belly to read the book while her back browned. A short time later she rolled over and turned on the radio. Her skin had tanned to a light brown by the time the sun went behind a cloud. Alice wasn't worried about rain; the weather report said warm and humid, but partly cloudy.

Her mind started to drift. A random thought came to the surface: the time, last year when Roy wanted to try cunnilingus. Alice's pussy stirred at the memory: Roy's bobbing head, his tongue sliding in and out. It was enough to get her juices flowing. "I have to admit he was good with his tongue." A slight breeze sprung up. Alice parted her legs. It was a trick she discovered as a teen; letting the breeze stimulate her damp pussy. It was a mild form of masturbation.

As the wind cooled the sweat on her skin her nipples perked up slightly. The effect was a mild erotic languor, the kind of low heat that Alice preferred in quiet times. "I don't need my hand," she thought, "I'll just lie back and let the wind do me." She looked through her parted legs at her patch. "That prick will never see this again," she thought as she drifted to sleep.

The Creature, let's call it a Blob since it was, after all, a giant semi-fluid amoeba, was not like others of its ilk. Most Blobs, to be blunt, are stupid. They operate mostly on instinct, with a basic philosophy best described as engulf, devour, "burp!" It is a philosophy that has served Blobkind for countless millennia and none have seen any reason to change.

The Blob had a different take on life. There was nothing wrong with the other three tenets but food should, at least, be savored first. What was wrong with tasting? Making things last? Even playing with its meal? Now, counted, the Blob's higher intelligence was attributable to the aforementioned secret experiments (that and its enormous size in relation to its microscopic brethren). The creature was an unexpected and unknown side effect (the government learned in the following years, not to leave experimental growth hormone in bad containers).

When the government packed up and left, no one noticed the little blob of jelly near one of the drums. The developer, not wanting to spend money on a cleanup, dumped the drums, including the strange jelly, into the lake, and kept his mouth shut. "If something goes wrong I'll just blame it on the government," he thought.

The Blob grew to its present size over the years, feeding on fish or frogs, the occasional duck, an unfortunate swimmer or two. It was smart enough to leave some animals alone, always wise to keep a steady food source. A consequence of this policy was to make the lake deceptively quiet. Animals drawn by the seeming lack of predators became easy dinner.

It helped that the Blob was colorless and transparent and easily camouflaged in the water. The only animals smart enough to stay away were human (intelligence, at least, described the locals, the few humans the Blob ate were dumb tourists). The Blob loved tourists; they had more meat on them than ducks or geese. It didn't refer to them as tourists, it had no understanding of the concept. It just knew them as large animals that occasionally strayed into the lake. Take this creature floating on the raft. The Blob had tracked her from the moment she set foot in the water.

Now, Blobs can't see in the visual sense, they have no eyes; nor can they hear. A Blob's primary senses are taste, touch, and smell. The Blob "saw" Alice by feeling her vibrations as she swam. Her sweat gave a scent that acted as breadcrumbs in the water. The Blob felt a familiarity with this scent, but the previous swimmers were male, and the female smell had a slight difference. Intrigued, the Blob held back, tracking Alice as she swam. Maybe it could "taste" her.

The Blob loved "tasting" its food; "tasting" gave it an almost sexual thrill. It was a way to investigate the victim before eating it. The ducks and frogs were ok. The swimmers were more interesting; a couple even squirted a strange liquid before being devoured. The taste was peculiar but the Blob was more interested in the fleshy parts. This animal might have more meat on it than the others.

The Blob drifted to the raft. It slipped underneath the planks and flowed through the gaps. The raft was a false refuge; swimmers usually tried to hide on it. If the Blob had a mouth it would have chuckled. The raft may as well have been a dinner plate.

Alice was laid out like a feast. Her arm curled beneath her head, the other on her belly, her legs spread, a sheen of sweat and suntan oil on her skin. Her cunnilingual memory had become an erotic dream. Her beautiful breasts were heaving slightly, her pink pussy was wet and dripping juice onto the wooden planks. She unconsciously opened her legs wider. The soft breeze stimulated her clit and reinforced the dream. She gave off a scent that drew the Blob like a magnet. Yes, the Blob thought, it would taste this creature first, she smelled so different from the others.

The towel on which Alice rested was problematic. The Blob had to be subtle, soaking itself into the cloth, quietly dissolving it with its digestive juice, while forming a liquid cushion between Alice and the raft. The Blob felt annoyed, it really hated cotton. The Blob then flowed around and over Alice, enfolding her within its jellylike body while leaving her mouth and nose open.

Alice was still dreaming of Roy licking her pussy; as he licked it felt as if his tongue was getting bigger. It grew wide and pink and it licked her everywhere at once. "But that's impossible," she thought, "His tongue can't be everywhere. This is some dream." His tongue travelled up her thighs, across her belly, over her breasts, across her face. Simultaneously it travelled down her back, through the crack of her ass, down her legs to tickle her feet. Alice giggled, Roy never licked her feet in real life; she loved this dream.

Roy's tongue plunged deeper into her pussy, flickering over her swollen clit, lapping up her juices. At the same time his tongue entered her anus. Alice had taken it in the rear before, but not with his tongue. Her sphincter tightened briefly before it relaxed as his tongue slid up her asshole. The double stimulation caused Alice to cum; the orgasm jolted her awake. "Wow!" she gasped. It was the wettest dream she had ever experienced. Several confused seconds later, she realized she'd woken to her worst nightmare. "Yuck! What's this stuff on my body? Eeww! It looks like jelly. Who did this to me?! Hey! What's this stuff doing?! Eek!" she screamed; or rather gurgled as the mysterious jelly plunged through her mouth and down her throat.

To be continued...

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