Curse of the Black Ooze

"Come on you fucken' tossah" one of the guards says yanking at your chains.

You stand before a large, cheering crowd, in the depths of the deepest barrow. The high-inquisitor has just read your sentence. "For the crime of grand trespass, with the intent to soil our heritage, you are hereby sentenced to be killed via the headman's sword, risen from the dead and killed two more times!" The cackle that followed, the roar of the crowd, as they devoured the festering corpses of those that came before them haunts you; through even the exhaustion of fleeing for your life.

"I fucken' hed, come fucken' on!" your vision swoons as you're hip-tossed and dragged along the filthy cobblestone floor that's so cold you can feel it sucking the heat from your very bones. You're shoulders strain to stay in their sockets as you're pulled with in-human strength past hundreds more awaiting judgment. "WHY!" a young-voice cries out, "This can't be real" another says without an ounce of sanity left in it.

You are yanked roughly, feeling yourself go mercifully weightless for a brief moment before your ribcage crashes against a stone step. You can't breath, pain washing out everything as you are wrenched forward. You are continually dragged forward, until you hear a door swing open.

You're grabbed by your hair, now long-and-white, dragged to your feet. "If you're lucky, headman will get you in the mornin'" you feel the bloated maggots crawl against your ear as the squirm free from his mouth. "Don't want to get em' when the blade dulls, or the spirits take his aim." you feel a boot rattle your bruised body and you tumble forward just far enough to clear the door. You hear the door slam behind you, the mechanism locking. The sounds of steps marching in unison, and your fate being sealed.

You crawl to the wall, choosing it as the place you will spend the last moments on your terms. The pain throbs, but it's better this way, the searing pain covers the horrific memories of your failures that leave you alone now. Of the hopes, that at least some of your friends and family escaped, somehow. That they were not consumed by the Varag, as you witness countless others fall prey to during your escape.

You remember running for days, running until exhaustion took you. You should have known when the Bugbear gave up the chase, you were doomed. But you kept running right through the bybarrow. Right into the Cormogian Burg.

It's over now.

The moonlight cascades through the atrium above, providing soothing light. You try and control your breathing, forcing your eyes closed, trying to ready yourself to sleep.

But something compels you to open them.

Something in a vibrant green dress, something with skin as porcelain as the finest doll in the world. "Do not sleep yet, kind sir, I fear you are the last who can help me." As she drifts towards you with a commanding gaze. "Who I am is unimportant, and explaining this in a way that would make any sense would take longer than we have." She kneels beside you, running her hand against your damaged torso with softness in her eyes... and something else, something black and fluid-like sliding under her flesh.

Seeing your reaction brings pain to her face. "You can save me from this evil, and I can save you... I can give you freedom, I can make you better."

She removes the shawl covering her bosom, and brings down the hem to free her freckle-dotted breasts, "Just drink deeply and whatever you do, don't stop." He grasps the back of your head as she lowers her wonderfully soft flesh into your mouth letting the nipple slide in-between your teeth.

You think for a moment about what will happen if you do this, but you push it from your mind, whatever could happen is trumped by the idea of a sword crushing your head free from your body. You suck the flesh into you, forming a seal of flesh against flesh and eliciting a soft moan from your all-to-eager savior. You run your dry tongue across her tit, and suck more firmly this time tasting the warm, licorice-like taste that fills your mouth. You continue for what seems like hours, you regret not taking the opportunity to do this with your betrothed before she died in childbirth. Because it's the most soothing experience you've ever had.

She swaps back-and-forth liberally you run your hand up her legs absently before she places it firmly on her plump rear. Eventually, the flow stops and she lets out a guttural beast-like howl. Breaking away she looks back, some of your spit hanging for her still exposed breast. "You did it, you really did it!" You watch as her body regains a peach-like sheen, making her wonderful form look like the finest painting ever made. You see her eyes flutter, and energy surge as she contorts. Then fades away. The confusion lingers, before you write it off as an unexpected good dream.

But the taste lingers in your mouth. It's soothing, and equal-part unnerving.

Then, you can feel it crawling beneath your skin, you can feel it, doing something. You feel panic set in as slowly the pain begins to build. Your hair begins to fall out, it's white color, shifting to a deep onyx as it flutters away. You cry out in pain as you feel liquid fire searing your flesh. You hold yourself in hopes you can sooth it, and find your skin growing softer instead. The sun damage and skin tags all fading away or crumbling to dust. You feel your hips ache in pain as the shifting continues, you feel something tingle below the belt. You shuffle what's left of your trousers to free your manhood. You see it jet black in color, the ooze filling your testicles you feel it roll inside you almost as if it's consuming something, then it's gone.

The pain is gone briefly and you let yourself laugh off one of the most painful experiences of your life.

Then one of them pops up inside you, it doesn't hurt, but as the other slides up inside you, you frantically grasp at your sack, hoping to somehow bring them back. Soon, it begins to change color, it's texture begins to change, it shrinks and follows after them, and you cry out in terror at the gap left behind. Soon the bell-end of your shaft shrinks as well. The hole in your loins gobbling you manhood inward, you feel something snap, watching as everything grew smaller-and-smaller feeling something turn inside out. Everything is shifting now, and you stare in horror at what is left behind, in shivering anguish.

You cry out from the bottom of your very soul, but your voice is no longer your own. You feel blood rush to your head, and everything gets woozy. When you look up there is the cursed maiden here to torment you, even into the grave. "Shhhhh, you're going to be ok." you want to be upset at her as you grasp at her clothing, but you can't remember why. Then your consciousness fades.