Dungeon Slime

There was a universal constant among adventurers: the desire for loot. Esme had just defeated the skeletons guarding the treasure chest in this room. It had been a tough battle, but she had won, and to the victor go to the spoils.

She walked over the cobblestone flooring to her prize. It was a pretty big treasure chest, which meant a rarer reward, and a rarer reward meant an upgrade or maybe something worth vendoring. She’d be more than happy either way. In fact, Esme could hardly contain the mirth that bubbled in within her. A cheerful tune passed her lips as she neared the chest.

When she was close enough to open the box, she knelt down and inspected it for traps. She wasn't a rogue, but she had spent a bit of time training in skulduggery and knew enough to spot the obvious signs of tampering. Nothing unusual there.

She then took out her sword and poked the chest, lightly at first, and then with more oomph. It didn’t respond. A mimic would have opened its maw and tried to swallow her by now, so the lack of that happening was a fairly promising sign.

Looking good so far.

Nothing to it then but to open the thing and claim the reward. She placed her gauntlet-clad hands on the lid and heaved the top open. A little jingle played as was customary with all dungeon chests, and a golden glow bathed her face as the contents were revealed.

When the glow had died down, she was able to see the form of her loot. It was a small clay urn. Unusual, but not unheard of. Likely some sort of passive-boosting trinket that she could equip simply by having it on her person. She hoped it would grant her more armor or spell-resist, but who knew.

Esme picked the urn up. It had some odd markings on it, which did increase the chance that it had some sort of magical effect. Hmm. She could take it to a divination mage to identify it, and she would definitely do that, but her impatience was getting the better of her. The urn had a lid, and lids were meant to be opened (much like the treasure chest).

She pried the lid off, revealing not much of anything other than a shadowed interior. Was there some other loot inside? Or was it just dust. She leaned down and tilted her head so that her eye was aligned with the opening.

*SPLAT*

She felt it before she could even process the sight of it. A wet and sticky sensation that attached itself to her face in an instant.

She dropped the urn which smacked into the ground and exploded into a miniature storm of ceramic shards. Her body reeled back and felt to the floor as well, while her hands reached up to her face to try to remove whatever had stuck to her.

Esme had closed her eyes instinctively, so she couldn’t see what it was, but she was certain it was a type of ooze. A common enough adventuring foe, but deadly if left unchecked. Esme was an adventurer of some experience, so she had come prepared for scenarios like this. After just a bit of flailing she refocused herself and reached into her pouch to pick up a flask of slime-dissolvant, ready to apply it directly to her face (she’d heal the burns off later with a healing potion).

But before she could, the slime grew in size. Its new mass swept off the sides of her face and around to her ears before swiftly plunging in. Its body snaked through her ear canals, filling them up and muting the outside world. She lost her sense of balance and her legs crumpled, sending her and the flask to the floor to join the shattered urn.

She quickly reached for her backup flask, but it was too late. The slime’s tendrils had reached her brain. Esme couldn’t feel it, but she could imagine as the blue ooze wrapped itself around her folds, as it engulfed her brain with its body. She had seen pictures of human skulls in gelatinous cubes, and this was surely not so different. Her entire head, both inside and out, was inside the blue slime now.

Or no, that wasn’t right. Rather, her entire head was the ooze now. She hadn’t realized it at first, but the slime had been dissolving the difference between them all the while. She reached a hand up to feel her face and found only a slick and goopy substance that molded itself to her hand as she pressed in.

“Blub,” she tried to speak her thoughts, but her vocal cords seemed to be in the process of being transformed as well as weren’t quite up to the task. So instead only a faint gurgle managed to come out.

Esme looked down and saw the slime’s progress as it transformed more and more of her body. First her neck, and then her chest, and so on until it reached her feet. Until all of her was a mix of her old self and her new oozing blue form.

It didn’t stop there. Seemingly unsatisfied with just modifying the existing form, it ballooned parts of her out. Notably her chest and ass, both expanding until they were easily five sized larger than her previous self. Why did an ooze care about that? Or why did she care about that, now that she was the slime? Was it a manifestation of her subconscious desire to be more feminine?

Oh no, that wasn’t it. Her slime instincts bubbled up and provided the answer. It was to attract horny adventurers. She needed to convert more men and women into slime hybrids like herself. And that’d be much easier if they joined her willingly because of her huge melons and fat ass than if they wanted to cast a fireball on her.

She reached down and picked up her fallen sword and stuck it inside her belly. Best to keep that around too, just in case. She hadn’t lost her fighter class after being transformed, so she could still retaliate if worst came to worst, though hopefully it wouldn’t come to that. She’d much rather fuck any adventurer she saw and convert them peacefully. It was what she was made for, after all. The dungeon wanted her to defend it and had designed her original slime self to facilitate that in the most efficient way possible.

Esme licked her lips. She knew now that the dungeon wasn’t evil at all. It just wanted to defend itself, and she was a part of it now, like she was a part of the slime. She’d do her best, and best of all, it wouldn’t be hurting anyone else to do so. It was a win-win situation, and if there was anything adventurers or ex-adventurers like her liked more than loot, it was winning.