Eiran Faewilde's Slime Encounter

A/N: The main character, Keiran, uses he/him pronouns. He is an intersex trans man with both a vagina and penis. The words used to describe his genitals are hole, front hole, dick, cock, and cocklet. If this makes you uncomfortable do not continue.

The rolling hills of Ceinmoore were verdant and bright this time of year. As Keiran leaned back on his elbows, he watched waves of grass shimmer in the sunlight. His horse was a few meters away, tied to a lone, scrubby tree on the hillside. He had no need of its shade as he lay nude under the shining sun.

It was a beautiful day, one Keiran was content to spend lounging around without his usual armor. There were monsters in these parts, so he was not entirely safe, but few would approach in such an open area in the middle of the day. The dark elf took a sip from his canteen. A few drops escaped the corner of his mouth, spilling down onto his warm brown chest. He did not bother to wipe it away. It quickly evaporated in the summer heat.

The green valley stretched out on either side of him, following the winding river that weaved through the hills. Keiran stretched out on the soft lambgrass a few meters above the riverbank. He smiled as the soft tufts brushed his sides and face. His hair splayed out in a halo of dark curls under his head. The elf turned his head to the side, pressing his face into his arm to block the sun. Each movement was accompanied by a soft, lazy groan.

It had been nearly a week without a job. Keiran was by no means well off. He would rather have a bowl of stew in an inn than another moore hare cooked over a campfire, but he appreciated the quiet times when he could retreat from civilization.

The hunter rolled over onto his chest to sun his back as well.

He laid out in the grass for a few hours, soaking up the heat. It was only when his stomach started to growl that he accepted he would need to go hunting. By then, it was early afternoon.

Keiran sat up and stretched his arms up toward the sky. His spine cracked and he sighed as it settled back into place. He stood and wiped any remaining bits of grass and dirt off his skin.

His horse lifted his head in mild interest, then went back to tearing greenery from the ground once Keiran walked past him.

His clothes were hung from the lowest branches of the tree. They were still slightly damp from his attempts at washing them in the nearby river that morning. Still, he dressed himself for entering the woods. The dusty rose linen clung to his shoulders and chest, and water darkened his pants around the ankles. His boots stayed folded against the trunk.

Keiran often preferred to go barefoot, only owning shoes for the sake of his trade. Monsters took any uncovered flesh as a weak spot. He would be safe for hunting in the daytime, though.

He slipped his quiver over his shoulder and grabbed the bow from beside his bedroll. He gave his horse a quick pat on the shoulder and walked up the hill toward the tree line. There would be better hunting up in the forest.

The elf passed under the oaks and maple trees like a shadow, dark and silent. His long elven ears perked up at the sounds of birds twittering in the branches above. He crouched down low and slowed down once he caught the rustling of leaves up ahead.

Keiran crept forward, his bow ready in front of him. He kept his eyes on the gently shaking limbs. There was a moment of pause, then a blur of red fur burst through the leaves, bleating in a panic. Keiran tried to aim at the rapidly fleeing deer, but it was gone by the time he had drawn back the arrow. Its footsteps quickly faded away.

As he loosened his pull on the bowstring slowly, he realized the bushes were still trembling. The dark elf swung around and re-aimed at the bush. He expected another deer, maybe a wolf. Instead, a light green substance began to push through the leaves, and then envelope them.

Keiran stood and straightened his bow. Disgust contorted his face as a five-foot pile of slime dragged itself through the bushes and into the open. He cursed under his breath.

Of course, he would find a monster when he was least prepared to fight it.

His bow would be useless against the slime. Its translucent body revealed the remains of clothing inside of it, as well as a few partially dissolved arrows similar to his own. He would need fire to kill a slime like this.

Keiran tried to step back from the slime, hoping he had not caught its attention just yet. His hopes were dashed as the blob swung its dribbling body toward him. Drops of goo landed centimeters from his feet and he took another step away. That only seemed to encourage the slime, which began convulsing and inching its way toward him.

"Oh dear."

Keiran had no intentions of becoming this thing's dinner. He turned and ran.

The slime burbled angrily at losing its easy meal. It gave chase, slinging out long lines of goo and pulling itself forward. A few nearly came close to catching his feet as he ran.

He jumped over tree roots and fallen logs, and all the while the slime followed. The elf was nearly out of breath by this point, but he did not give up. The tree line was just in sight, and soon he broke through it. His bare feet hit the lush lambgrass once more, but his ankle rolled under him. Keiran fell down the suddenly steep slope. He failed to catch himself with his arms, scraping the backs of his forearms as he slid down.

When the terrain evened out he rolled to a stop. With a grunt of pain, he pulled himself up and dusted off his shirt. The grass had stained his sleeves and the knees of his trousers. He wasn't far from his horse, but he had no scroll or bottle in his packs with which to fight the slime-- and it would be too dangerous to lead it to the tied mare.

Keiran instead turned to the river. He picked up his pace as he heard the slime gurgle and slap the ground behind him. Mud squished between his toes, but was soon washed away by the fast current.

He turned to see if the slime still followed, but it was nowhere to be found. Only a trail of ooze down the hill remained in its wake. He glanced around nervously. If it had followed him in, he could not see it among the river.

Perhaps it had been washed away by the current?

The elf took a step toward the shore, and suddenly the water turned thick around his feet. He yelped as his legs pulled out from under him, and he landed chest-first on a wobbling surface of slime. Strands reached up around him and latched onto his arms, his shoulders.

Keiran realized with horror he'd fallen into a horrifically stupid trap. He kicked and thrashed, but the slime monster only held on tighter. Its thick green goo pulsed around him as it dragged him into its body.

There was little he could do to escape its grasp, especially as it tried to plug his mouth and nose to suffocate him. Keiran's lungs burned, and his heart was racing with fear and adrenaline.

"Get off me," he yelled into the goop invading his mouth, and it quivered in a way that made him nauseous. His arms were sucked into its mass, and the slime began to move around him.

He was struck with a sudden memory of one of his more intimate encounters with a human. Humans loved using their mouths, it seemed, and that man had been no different. He had loved to suckle on anything he could-- Keiran's nipples were particular favorites though. His tongue massaged the four dark buds until they were hard and sensitive. It had been a new sensation at the time, and one Keiran enjoyed very much.

Was his death going to be a flashback of all his sexual encounters? Ashamed though he was to admit it, Keiran felt his nipples perk up at the memory. His groin tingled as slime soaked through his pants and filled the folds between his legs.

He choked on the last of the air in his lungs, air that had long since turned sour and painful to hold. He could not draw in a breath. Breathing out was perhaps a worse death sentence.

Keiran moaned as the slime pressed inside of him with one of its exploratory tendrils. The slime in his mouth wriggled again and suddenly retreated. It released his head and for one grateful second, Keiran dragged in a breath of air. He gasped as it caught in his throat.

The slime was still clinging to the rest of him, inside his front hole and slowly working toward the back one. That hole, he was less keen on it messing with.

It must have been the sound that drove out the slime, the vibration of it that the thing didn't like. He yelled at it again, but it only pushed more of itself inside him. He keened and tipped his head back. The slime's mass pushed against all the most sensitive parts of his walls, and it pulsed in a way that made his head spin.

Keiran couldn't find the strength to fight back as he was filled with more and more slime. It slithered up his throat to cover his mouth, and this time when he moaned it only pushed deeper.

The slime inside his front hole turned solid suddenly, or maybe there was just so much that it felt solid. He squirmed as discomfort overrode pleasure. It stretched his entrance more than he typically liked, and the solid slime pushed deeper and deeper.

Just as it became painful, the mass stopped inside him.

The slime gurgled around him. It slowly pulled back over his body, retreating to his feet. It sunk beneath his hips, and the slime in his hole followed as well. Whatever it had put inside him was still there, though. His body throbbed in unspent pleasure around the solid mass.

Keiran could do nothing but gasp for breath for the next few minutes. The slime had spit him back out on the bank, and he lay there dazed and confused. Had it... fucked him? He closed his eyes against the bright sun shining on his face.

When he finally caught his breath, he sat up and took stock of himself. His clothes were still on, though noticeably wet again. Flecks of slime dotted his body still, and his hole ached. The thing inside him was inflexible and unforgiving.

He gave up on having dry clothes or a good dinner that night. His muscles were tired from the fight, and his adrenaline was depleted. The elf stood on shaky, awkward legs and pulled his trousers down. He couldn't help but touch his entrance. The hole squeezed around its intruder and sent him to his knees. His cocklet was embarrassingly hard, two and a half inches of throbbing flesh sticking out above his hole.

Keiran moaned weakly as his palm brushed the sensitive length. He wrapped his fist around his dick and began to stroke. His hips pushed forward of their own accord into his tight grip. Slick from his hole eased the way for Keiran to fuck his hand.

It was over in mere minutes. The ending came with a burst of almost painful pleasure. The elf's inner walls trembled and squeezed down once more on the object inside him. That must have been enough force because it suddenly exited his body with a slick POP a moment later. He hissed as it tugged on his already painful entrance.

Once the aftershocks passed and he was able to think again, he turned to look at what had fallen out of him. A fist-sized round ball of goo lay on the grass behind him. Inside it was a little round dot, and he realized it was a slime egg.

They were rare to find, due to the elusive reproductive habits of slimes, and for that reason incredibly valuable.

At that point, Keiran had to laugh. The laughter bubbled out of his chest and soon he was doubled over cackling like a maniac, because what the fuck? He has no jobs or monster encounters for weeks, and now a slime has gone and tried to put one of its very valuable eggs in him. And it didn't even try to eat him. The absurdity was nearly too much for him.

Keiran nearly pissed himself laughing on the side of the river, and if there was anyone else out there they might have thought he was crazy. He was able to collect himself not long after, but still found himself chuckling as he took off his shirt. He would need to wash his clothes again.

First, he collected the egg and brought it over to his bags. It was surprisingly light, though it did not bend or jiggle like a slime did. He prodded the hard surface, but there was nary a ripple in it. It fit nicely wrapped up in one of his rags, so he tied the ends and placed it in the saddle bags.

He rinsed his closed in the river for the second time that day, and once more hung them up to dry. His hole still felt sticky and wet, so he washed himself too. No amount of digging inside could relieve the memories of slime fucking him, but Keiran managed to get the gross goo out of his hole. Once he was clean he retreated up the hill to sun himself again.

Keiran had planned to catch some small game and cook it over a fire. Now it was more likely he would need to finally eat the hard cheese and stale bread he had been avoiding in his pack. He grimaced at the thought.

He rolled over onto his side and sighed. The strange encounter had taken away his appetite and left him confused. He had not considered fucking monsters before. At least, he didn't think about it often. He relieved himself sometimes to thoughts of minotaurs, but slimes were far down on the list of sexy monsters.

He shook his head. This was a one-off, Keiran decided. He would sell the egg and forget about the slime, which had disappeared entirely now. He hadn't enjoyed the sex that much anyway, he lied to himself.

He had enjoyed it, up until the slime put an egg in him.

Keiran forced food into himself once his skin was mostly dry. He sat down next to his horse and gnawed at the tough yellow cheese from his bag. It crumbled in his mouth, sharp flavor biting at his tongue. The stale bread scraped the roof of his mouth. He fought to chew and swallow both bread and cheese and took frequent sips from his canteen.

His time recovering left him with only waning daylight now. The sun dipped below the trees above the valley and the sky had turned a golden pink. He redressed and left his trousers untied to hang around his waist.

Keiran lay down to sleep under the tree with his horse. He was far enough away the mare couldn't step on him while he slept, but close enough to feel the comfort of another creature nearby. He spread out his sleeping roll and tucked the edge under himself. He would not bother to light a fire now. The soft furs inside the bedroll were warm enough for his comfort.

Though sleep didn't come easy for the monster-hunter, he soon was able to drift off.

Keiran's dreams were plagued by slime. Intangible green slime wrapped around and pushed into him, cushioned him, swallowed him in its translucent mass. That night his sleep was broken and the bouts of rest between nightmares woke him up hard and aching again.

He was not well-rested when he woke up the next morning. As he readied his horse and packed his bags, his eyelids hung and his arms dragged. He didn't even talk to his horse as he loaded her saddlebags onto her. He leaned into her neck and sighed a breath against her short, brown fur. She stood dutifully against his weight until he came back to himself.

Kieran pulled himself up into the saddle and directed Sorrel to the southeast. He nudged her flank and she trotted toward their next destination: Asik-Valir. Plenty of traders there would take his newly acquired slime egg.