Epilogue...A sublimely satisfied slime secretary//sponge/stole/sweetheart

You still remember that first time Dean Lily Dimitrescare shared a sponge bath with you. Full of the blood of bigots, she rung you out in her bath then filled it with fresh blood. You vaguely remember wondering idly who 'donated' the fresh blood, but that thought was soon rung out of you as your Mistress pulled you in half and used your two halves as sponges in each of her claws. She kneaded you ass while sliding your slick slit over her legs and groped your breasts while using your moaning mouth to wash her heaving breasts.

It must have only have been minutes, but it felt like a euphoric eternity of sucking up your own drool and girl gushes before the Dean wriggled a claw deep in your head and somehow dug out an ability apparently buried inside you the whole time. You will never forget that feeling of limitless freedom, of total control over your size, shape, and mass. In seconds you swole and stretched and shifted to make two Willows, each using every inch of theirselves to wrap around Dimitrescare and suck up every bead of sweat and blood, kiss every curve and contour, and lovingly lap up her needy nectar as she squeezed your head with her thighs until it popped.

You learned fast that being a sponge was hard work, especially when you kept getting smashed to bits by your bountiful buttocks or titanic tits. You quickly adapted, slipping deep inside her ass and pussy and forming tendril tongues that slurped up all the sloppy squirts even as she made them. After awhile, you couldn't tell where she stopped and you ended, you couldn't tell if you were cumming because you could feel her orgasms blossoming like blood flowers or if she was sharing yours as they exploded like a constellation of supernova.

No, you'll never forget that first bath...especially because you give her one just like it every night. Though that is one of many daily duties.

Your day begins by sending some of your many slimes...you've maxed out at 134 so far, but Lily is sure you can top two hundred at some point...and you get the Dean's clothing ready for the day, dispose of any discarded one night snacks, quintuple check her itinerary for the day, pick from her bevy of beauties for breakfast, put something upbeat on the victrola, and finally wake her with a kiss. She is always cranky in the morning, and while technically you all feel her claws dig deep into you while she chastens you for waking her without her customary toe tongue bath, you still make the slimes rotate that role out to be fair. Besides, you always remember to wake her by sucking her toes, but you know she always lashes out first then when she's a little more awake, notices you nursing her dainty digits.

You never fail to flinch when she cuts into you. Not because you are worried she will hurt you, but because you are worried she will inadvertently share your pain. It's only after her malicious ministrations inside you turn to amorous intent and her claws start to feel like they are fingering your wet, wanting cunt that you remember two things: Dean Dimitrescare is powerful enough to block your empathic ability when she wants to, and she never hurts you more than she knows you can take. Of course, you know that's a pretty sick consolation, but compared to what came before her, Mistress' sickness seems healthy.

After your morning routine, and after Lily lovingly laps up a last dreamy drop from the nubile neck of a half drained debutante, she puts on her clothes for the day. Since she decided she couldn't find a fabric that surpasses the sublime sheen and striking hue of your slime, her daily wardrobe consists of a few clones of you. It's a coveted chore to be sure, and again it's a strictly rotation based assignment as you all remember dreaming of being a pair of her panties, sitting snuggly against her slit...a pair of stockings, stretched sheer and in ornate inlay over her luscious limbs...a corset squeezing and cuddling all day long...a flowing dress, caressing every inch of uncovered flesh with perverse pride...any assorted accessories she feels like wearing that day, be they huge hat or rings or stole or anything else...and the most prized position, a small slice of slime to coat her lips, feeling her kiss you with every breath.

Less sought after is your role, slime prime and secretary for life, with the threat of a very literal severance package should you fail to meet expectations. It is long and arduous and often boring, but it also allows you to be close to your heart's desire at all times. That, and you are always picked among the pack anytime Dean Dimitrescare needs to bleed out some bigots or other obstacles to order. You have no illusions that she cares for anything but maintaining her power, but you take no small satisfaction knowing you have been able to steer that desire towards a more equitable environment for all students over the centuries you've spent with her. Olive and the TYRF's thralls were just the first of countless lives you've helped save at the expense of the truly wicked, and while you cannot love them the way you do Lily, you still feel a little glow where your heart used to be when you help.

There's one role you cherish above all others, and the only other one not available for rotation. Every so often, usually when she's drained a drunk and is feeling tipsy, Lily decides to pretend she loves someone other than herself. She always uses your heart to do it, so after a lot of trying and failing to find someone as adaptable to her needs as you, now she just woos you all over again instead. Sometimes she takes you out on a date, wines and dines you, listens to your life story like it's the first time she's heard it, and forgets it in the next instant the moment it gets to the part she cares about...her. Often she takes you on the desk instead, or up against the wall, or if you've been doing a really good job, up on the ceiling.

However she does it, she only uses you, and it's like falling in love all over again, for as many hours or days or weeks as she keeps the romance alive this time. Then, she gets bored and it's back to the usual. Not that you can complain, and of course, you literally can't, but even if you could, you would be happy to live the worst day as her thrall every day for the rest of your life. It's like they say, if you love what you do, you'll never work a day in your life. In that sense, you are on a permanent vacation in paradise. Living one eon at a time...