Cared for and pampered

You decide not to worry too much about it, spending the next few minutes humming a happy tune the slime wobbles a little dance to. Those who cross your path give deeper looks now, so you return deeper ones, not to be outdone. Especially on the females.

Has it always been that way? Their underwear showing through the robe. The nipples poking the thin fabric. Why is it that you only notice it now?

Anyway... It feels as if the slime knows where you're looking even if you try to do it discreetly, pointing every boob and ass you check. So... Time to move on.

A turn left. Another right.

You reach the double oak doors of your laboratory and step inside without hesitation. But rather than enter the door on the left of the first room, you remain there, in your office.

You feel a little silly today, so you decide to introduce the room to the slime. Left's laboratory. Right is dormitory. A bookcase on either side of the room. Few scrolls. Some potions. Big pair of windows behind the desk so you can properly study your documents.

The slime nods along as you tell it this and that.

A big, round carpet that's more looks than comfort. After all, everyone's wearing shoes in here. The slime seems to appreciate the softness though, brushing the fuzz with some of its goo.

"And that's about it." you say matter-of-factly.

The slime gives a deep nod then tours the room by itself. Meanwhile, you excuse yourself to visit the dormitory for a few minutes. There aren't many tricks to releasing frustration, but the good old rub always squeezes out every drop of piled up negativity.

Five minutes later, you return to the office. The slime took the opportunity to try your seat and act as headmaster while you were gone. Unfortunately, it has to be demoted back to its green bunny status.

At least it doesn't protest. It jumps down from the chair and lets you sit instead. Then, it bounces to the room on the right. It is its turn to tour the dormitory. It glances your way for permission, and you wave a hand dismissively. It's free to do whatever as long as it's not drinking acid.

Happy wobble. A Bounce, and it slips into the other room and out of your mind.

...

Half an hour later, you put down a scroll on advanced alchemy you had been studying. The slime hasn't come back yet, so you decide to check on it. Most likely it had fallen asleep on the bed.

You whistle.

"..."

Not a single sound. Time to worry your candy investment had escaped.

Your lift yourself off the chair and peek into the room. There's movement under the blanket...

You whistle again, and this time a brightly... White ball of goo lifts the blanket and wears it almost like a hood.

When did this even happen?...

The idea is simple. Light colors are good... Dark colors are bad... What's white supposed to be?

Of course, you're happy it is a new variant, but is it going to kill you?

You furrow your eyebrows as you approach it. It feels as if it's baiting you, showing just enough pique your curiosity. Before you get too close, you reach inside the buckled bag on your belt and pull out a lemon-scented satchet. It peeks out a little more. Now it knows you mean business, yet it still won't come out completely.

All that's left is reach out and let it bite. Or scream for help. But no, you have dignity. You'd never do that.

A few steps later, you finally see it upclose and personal, separated only by an arm's length. You just can't figure out what it could have possibly eaten for it to turn white. Or what it can do.

"What is it?" you gently ask it, hoping it would show mercy if it evolved into something that can bully you.

"A..." It vibrates a note. Similar to a voice. Not quite one, but a sound you understand...

Your heart picks speed at the promising display. Finally something that can justify the money poured into research.

If only you knew what had caused this mutation...

You don't care anymore, reaching for the blanket with both hands to pull and reveal the slime anew.

It flattens itself as if afraid, and you reach out with more confidence.

Then, it launches itself...

...

You feel as if you're wearing shackles made of gel and water. This thing caught you with your dick in your hand and it won't let go anymore. Your hand passes right through its body, and whenever you try to grab the core, it just shifts it to a different part of its body. It's even smart enough to keep it away from sight.

You can't tell what it's trying to do, but at least it's not immediately hurting you.

...

It's... Growing.

You thought you were imagining it, but it's actually heavier than it was five minutes ago. Even worse, it robbed you of the candy you could've used to negotiate with it. At least it had the courtesy to slip a piece into your mouth as well...

If anything, that's the only reason you're not desperately trying to remove the slime off your body. Or was that candy another trick to make you drop your guard? Did you just trade your life for a piece of candy?

Back to worrying...

...

At last, it stopped producing goo. It must weigh as much as a person now, but luckily, it's supporting some of its own weight. It also still will not let go. Is it being friendly?

"Are you going to hurt me?" you ask, feigning some fear.

It shakes left and right in a place you can see. If that's not convincing enough, it then pats your head and feeds you another piece of sugared lemon.

"..."

You're at a loss.

...

There's been another change. The slime's goo is turning warmer. Firmer. It's solidifying in places and it can be grabbed if it allows you to. Whenever that happens, it turns a bit darker, and you worry it'll start craving human meat if it doesn't stop whatever this is it's doing.

At this point, it's twisting its goo into a pair of hands. You can feel its head resting on your shoulder, trying to mimic hair and clothing. There's an unusual shape resting on your back as well. But despite all this, it feels... nice?

It feels like a hug from behind, more human with each passing moment. It's... baffling.

You glance at your waist, seeing arms wrapped around it instead of the gelatinous mess from minutes before. You glide along the surface of one with the tip of your finger, then lock fingers with one of its hands. The feedback is satisfying. The pulse makes it feel alive...

Its head feels more distinct on your shoulder too. You can tell the neck apart. The chin feeling for better spots. The nose blowing hot breaths to the side of your face...

Not that you'd prefer a dick resting on your ass, but why's it growing breasts?

Its shape stabilizes, without any further changes. Its hands trace lower, pathing your robe and down to your crotch, slipping a hand inside your robe. Its feminine fingers flick your semi-hardened dick up and down...

You can't keep calling the slime "it". You feel as if you're shackling yourself by doing so, preventing pleasure due to morality and questions of ethical concern. Is it right to fuck a slime? What if it's a female one?

So... You curl your head into her neck. You're curious how she looks. How she tastes...

You kiss her on a turned cheek, getting a flinch out of her. She's surprised at the proactivity on your part and you are surprised at the range of emotions she displays. When she turns her head, you realize she looks familiar. Familiar as in a face you had just seen... Someone this morning.

You reach behind yourself with an arm and grab half her butt, feeling for anything else familiar. She mistakes this for you taking it a step further. Humming a happy tune, she throws you on the bed and mounts you dry, coating your dick with her own liquids as she rides you recklessly.

Thus, your days are spent being squeezed by whatever girl your slime decides should be the flavor of the day. Being fucked silly is the morning starter, and for breakfast it's more cum and candy.