Slimes: Easy Prey, My Personal Hell
Slimes are ridiculously easy trash mobs, but the dungeon near the village where they spawn draws a steady crowd anyway. The only drops are slime essences, sure, but they're a key ingredient for potions, so newbie adventurers flock here to earn pocket money and build experience. I have no idea if this world's natives follow the same leveling system, but even if the numbers aren't visible, hunting slimes has to rack up some kind of progress. Learning to swing a weapon, judging the right angle to strike, calculating escape routes when defeat looms—low-risk practice for all the survival skills you'll need down the line.
Of course, our party didn't need any of that. Hamill and Laila had the power to shrug off slimes like nothing, and Minha and I were already max level—no extra experience grinding required. The game and reality weren't exactly the same, but we'd logged plenty of hours in-game. So the real reason we were here? Me.
From a newbie's perspective, it was pocket change and XP farming. Even ignoring the max-level holy knight, Hamill or Laila could be doing something way more productive at this hour—money aside.
"Hngh... Sorry, I'm holding everyone up again because of me..."
I writhed, gasping for breath, my body twisting so fiercely that I wondered if I'd be laid up for days with full-body muscle pain once this ordeal ended. Still denied even a single release, I staggered deeper into the dungeon after my party members.
"It's fine. Just be careful not to trip. Might as well pick up some essences while we rest."
Ever the sweetheart, Minha gathered essences from the slime corpses Hamill had smashed while I leaned against Laila, fighting off dizziness. The pudding-like slime, now lifeless, yielded easily to her gauntleted hand plunging into its translucent body. She rummaged around, grabbed something, and yanked it out.
"Ugh, the texture is gross."
Minha shook globs of slime off into the air, then admired the cracked, round essence in her palm with satisfaction. Staring at it, I briefly fantasized about shoving it inside me and pulling it out—how good that might feel—before shaking my head to snap out of it. No orgasm, no relief from the arousal... I was losing my mind.
Too desperate to care, I turned teary eyes to Laila. A succubus could fix this, right? But she just patted my lower back and gripped my arm to steady me—staying well clear of anywhere sensitive, probably scared of Iris's threats.
"Eugh... Please, do something, I beg you..."
"Ah, damn. I want to—you look so hot—but the inquisitor said hands off. I don't wanna get flambéed alive."
"Ughhh..."
I tried rubbing my breasts against her arm, but Laila clamped down on my elbow and forced me to face forward. One good climax would calm me down, but my head felt like it might explode. Desperate, I even appealed to Hamill.
"Hamill, please, just a little help..."
"No. Endure it."
Not so heartless after all, he crossed his arms and looked away, ignoring me even as he helped Minha collect essences. Tears like chicken droppings finally spilled down my cheeks.
"Hah... Even your crying face is sexy..."
"If it's that sexy, then help me!"
"Oh, sweetie, I'm a succubus with self-control. I don't bite the forbidden fruit."
"Waaah!"
I burst into pathetic sobs. All the while, the new holy relic lodged like a clit-sucking vibrator buzzed relentlessly, refusing to stop. I rolled on the ground, praying it'd fall off—fat chance. Somehow glued perfectly inside my panties, it stayed put no matter how I walked or thrashed, tormenting my clit without mercy using my pussy as leverage.
With no room in my soaked panties, the tail swished excitedly under my skirt, brushing my thighs and calves now and then—enough to send jolts through my breasts, drawing out moans.
"Hic... hngaaah..."
Crying out in weird moans only made me more ashamed. Hamill and Laila were used to this, but Minha, meeting me for the first time, probably thought I was some deranged slut. The thought of guild rumors crushed me. But shame couldn't stem the flood of tears.
"Uh... You're not calming down—you're just crying harder... Should we leave you here with Laila and push on ourselves?"
Minha, essence pouch full from nearby slime corpses, asked Hamill as I writhed and wailed in ecstasy.
"That might be best for the saintess."
With Hamill's approval, the party resumed. Head blank, I let Laila half-drag me along, stumbling on instinct. I ignored Minha's complaints about slimes' damage resistance and Hamill's low advice to target the core—the echoes off the cave walls didn't register. A few steps in, surging pleasure buckled my legs, leaving me trembling and stamping my feet.
"Haaah... aaahhh..."
I lost balance, toppling sideways. Laila caught me, but her regretful voice rang in my ears.
"Oops, your heel snapped. What now?"
From all my frantic stomping, maybe. Even if the heels were lower than most priestesses', shoes were shoes. Barely able to walk straight already, a broken heel made it impossible.
"Hop on my back. I'm no weak succubus who can't carry one saintess."
"Nngh... I'm trouble enough already—no way..."
I'd gone barefoot before, so it wasn't that bad. I kicked off the ruined shoes and padded into the cave barefoot. Small mercy—the floor, walls, and ceiling oozed soft, damp mucus, cushioning my heels. But cold, wet, squishy, and slightly sticky? Gross.
My stockings stretched and slapped back against my soles with each step, the sensation oddly erotic, tickling my chest.
"Everyone else is working so hard... mnghph!"
While Laila guarded me as Minha and Hamill fought ahead, a slime dropped from the ceiling with a wet splat, engulfing me. Trapped inside, I kicked frantically to escape, but it felt like swimming in deep water—feet nowhere near the ground. Holding my breath, I opened my eyes and scanned around.
A mild pressure on my eyes, but no acidic burn. The slime just wanted my feet off the floor, anticipating my struggles. I saw panicked Laila blasting fire spells from outside, but even elemental attacks took time on slimes. Max-level holy knights had to peel back layers to slash the core; blunt damage barely worked, so Hamill crushed them bare-handed. Unless piercing magic speared the core, it was a slog—and meanwhile, this slime oozed away with me inside.
Instinct screamed I'd regret being dragged off. Ignoring the clit-focused signals, I gritted my teeth. Passing out from asphyxiation could kill me. Best bet: find the core and bite it.
To do that, I conserved energy—no wasteful thrashing, or I'd burn oxygen faster. But even here, the holy relic fed me pleasure, heart racing, breath shortening.
"Gulp... glurk..."
I couldn't hold out; my mouth opened, slime flooding nose and throat. A creepy oneness washed over me, body heating up. Was it planning to suffocate and digest me? Drowning me in pleasure to paralyze prey first?
Different from the relic's bliss, but familiar—like the evil treant tentacles. That realization explained it: normal prey gets knocked out or killed quick, dissolved guts and all (clothes spat out undigested, probably). But aphrodisiacs for captured live ones? Did slimes... mate?
Terror hit, mixed with ironic relief at finally climaxing after denial. I whimpered, half-laughing. I'm broken too.
Once inhaled, the slime no longer choked me—breathing felt fine inside, lungs full of mucus. A bit stuffy, but oxygenated. Just bitterly astringent, like chewing Tylenol. My hazy, languid body absorbed the relic's pleasure purely now.
Arms bound, legs curled fetal—no need to brace. The all-over pressure massaged me gently, varying strong and soft. It felt considerate; my body heated up.
Not just soaking clothes—slime slithered inside, fumbling to strip me. Clumsy tickles made me giggle. Offended, it yanked harder. Hanbyeol's priestess robes tore away, spat out. Watching them recede, I realized I was being dragged somewhere.
Low-level dungeon, though—party would save me. No suffocation risk, so I relaxed into the subtle pleasure. A bit more kneading and I'd cum again. Mouth agape, I spat out lung-filling mucus.
A faint bitterness amid sweetness triggered me—I reflexively chanted Purify. My vocal cords vibrated through slime; will became skill.
The slime twitched; blinding light filled the dim dungeon. I squinted—even turning away didn't help. Judging by the glow, this psycho slime had evolved into some holy/light variant from purification.
Its style shifted: gentle caresses turned rough. Waves splayed my legs wide, slapped my ass hard. Breasts roughly groped, back muscles squeezed deep. But head and crotch stayed soft, stroking tenderly. Over my panties, slime pressed my mound—squishing the relic-buried clit. Electricity shot up my spine.
Days? No, mere hours of edging, but it felt eternal. Deep fulfillment surged. Trembling, legs stretched wide like a split, head thrown back against my will.
Ah, bliss.
Post-orgasm, the buzzing clit let me reclaim sanity briefly. Now I saw clearly: high mental strength had kept me aware before, but pleasure-overloaded, I wasn't thinking straight.
Dangerous? Maybe. But no killing intent. Just hold out till Laila, Minha, and Hamill rescued me. Only wrinkle: trash-mob slime suddenly holy-slime'd.
Still, focused on ravishing my body—not harming. Relax and enjoy. Seemed intelligent, but no communication. Motive unclear, though...
Can slimes impregnate people...?
Panic surged. Why hadn't I thought of that? Hours of edging dulled my brain? No time to enjoy—this was bad. Should've escaped sooner. Hating my earlier blissed-out self, I recalled kids hunted slimes with tricks. I could resist too.
Ignoring the full-body stimulation, I strained to close my legs. But was Hamill's advice for normal slimes? Muscles bulged my inner thighs visibly—legs stayed splayed.
"-_-! ..."
Let go. Please... I mouthed like prayer. Instead, it tugged my panties down. Tail resisted, coiling around waist and ass—but a shockwave to my belly (uterus spot) made me gasp, lungs filling. More gut punches; tail slackened. Panties slipped off, spat out.
Not drifting far—probably a boss room or slime lair. Not dragged to some hidden chamber; party would find me... but what next?
Hymen mythically guarded despite exposure, but...
"...!"
Familiar agony twisted me. Relic guarded my hymen, symbiotically handling bowels and feeding—but not my ass. Slime knocked and entered from behind.