Mood Slime Rogue: the Artist

This story is a joint project between myself and TheOutsiderOfLiterotica. Please check out his work and let us know if you want to see more chapters from this story. This is a separate story from my other Mood Slime series.

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Wendy entered her apartment after spending a few hours at the gym. Her clothes stuck to her body, having spent those hours sweating upon numerous machines. The heavy exercising was needed. Her job was getting to her, and the gym was one of the few places she could release her frustration. All that was left was to cleanse herself.

The gym's showering facility was compromised due to a specific pandemic. And all members were instructed not to use the facility until further notice. The issue made Wendy uneasy about taking cabs or the subway home. Fearing her sweat and appearance would make her a target of ridicule from other New Yorkers. Instead, she often sprinted home. A routine that was tiresome and rewarding. Exhausting herself helped get her to sleep most nights.

Leaving her shoes near the door, Wendy rushed into her bedroom to grab her night clothes. A fresh, clean pair of cotton panties, an oversized t-shirt, and some socks to keep her feet warm. Wendy entered her bathroom and worked the knobs to the shower. Then she stripped off her remaining gym clothes, kicking the damp pile into the corner to be dealt with later.

She took a moment to admire herself in the mirror. Her breasts were soft and perky. Her skin was practically flawless. Her auburn hair was as beautiful as the rest of her. She truly was a lovely woman. Wendy tried not to get carried away at her reflection, but a lingering desire to touch herself came to mind. She quickly dismissed it as the mirror started to fog. Carefully, she stuck her hand into the shower to test the temperature. Satisfied, she quickly stepped in.

A short time later Wendy was dressed in her evening attire and sitting on the couch. The television was on but she barely seemed interested in the program. Even though she was clean and tired from exercising, she was still feeling restless. Wendy surfed through multiple networks until she stopped to watch an evening news show. A blonde haired woman; dressed in the most professional of attires, was at the center of the screen. The discussion taking place immediately caught Wendy's attention.

"... that was the scene earlier today when protestors gathered outside City Hall, regarding the local government's decision to continue the Mood Slime Pandemic Protocol until further notice. Joining us tonight is a retired, founding member of the Ghostbusters organization! He is also the foremost expert on the subject of discussion: Doctor Raymond Stantz. Doctor, we're honored to have you here."

The camera focus expanded to include an elderly man. His clothing more business casual.

"Thank you for having me." Dr. Stantz smiled enthusiastically.

"Doctor Stantz, please help explain exactly what the Mood Slime is, its history, and how it works." the news anchor requested.

The retired Ghostbuster shuffled in his seat and cleared his throat.

"Over three decades ago, New York was victim of another paranormal uprising in spiritual turbulence. While investigating a peculiar incident with a former client; now friend, our original team discovered an unbelievable amount of psychomagnotheric ectoplasm..."

"I'm sorry, Doctor. Psycho what?"

"Forgive me, the mood slime. Interesting fact, the name originally came from another founding member: Dr. Peter Venkman."

"Oh." the anchor responded, not caring for the trivia.

"Well, we discovered a literal river of this substance flowing through an abandoned subway tunnel underneath the city."

"Which was later proven to lead towards the Manhattan Museum of Art."

"Correct." Dr. Stantz nodded.

"And exactly how does mood slime work?"

"It reacts to strong human emotions. Especially negative ones such as anger or rage. In fact, we learned very quickly the slime was capable of replicating or growing if in proximity to such emotions. This is how the slime increased to such incredible proportions. Enough to fill an entire subway tunnel and create a river of itself. Not only that, but it is also capable of puncturing rifts in our reality and allowing ghost to enter our world."

The anchor shifted in her seat, a smug look of disbelief on her face.

"What else can you tell us about it?"

"We also learned it reacts equally strong to positive emotions. Though it didn't increase in size as negative ones. Well, not as quickly I mean. Instead, positive emotions allowed us to be able to manipulate inanimate objects."

"Such as the Statue of Liberty!"

"Right. We started small, initially with household appliances. Our first being an old toaster. After enough research and study, we were able to collect a substantial amount of mood slime and positively charge it. Then use it to our advantage, such as animating the Statue of Liberty. A tactic which aided our victory over Vigo the Carpathian."

"All interesting information. Lastly, could you please explain how the most recent strain of mood slime came into existence. The one that caused the pandemic."

Dr. Stantz sat in his chair, his mouth slightly agape. His skin began to blush, as if embarrassed to answer the very question.

"Well, it all started with an intern of ours."

CLICK

"Lucky bitch." Wendy sighed as her television went dark.

The young woman slowly got up from the couch and moved over to a nearby desk. Sitting on top of it was her laptop, as well as an assortment of closed notebooks and sketching/illustrating tools. Wendy activated her laptop, opened an internet program, and immediately signed into her DeviantArt account: SlimeBlower69. She smiled at the number of notifications. It was reassuring so many people had taken a liking to her work.

Over the years, Wendy developed the skills of making incredible looking drawings. From very realistic to the absolute abstract. She was fond of environmental settings. And surprising people out in public by drawing portraits of those in proximity, if forced to be around them for long periods of time. But secretly, she enjoyed making illustrations of sexual acts. It started with simple fetish doodles and expanded into miniature bondage portraits. But when the city was repeatedly victimized to the Mood Slime Pandemic, her sexual depravity on paper and online went off the charts.

The notebooks across her desk, as well as her DeviantArt account, were littered with erotic imagery of her own making. Numerous illustrations of her sexual fantasies using herself as the model of each sketch. All of which involved encounters with the erotically charged mood slime. Visuals of herself being ravaged by invisible forces. Or gigantic, pink tendrils from unknown origins filling every hole in her body. Every erotic portrait shared online made her very popular with the perverts across the city. She could only wonder how they'd react to her rough sketches or incomplete work.

After viewing each notification, and responding to a few, Wendy shut off her laptop and turned on the lamp at her desk. Finding an unused piece of paper, she reached for a nearby ink pen of phallic design. A novelty gift she bought for herself from a now closed Emporium elsewhere in the city. Pen in hand, an image flashed through Wendy's mind and she immediately started scribbling. She worked fast but time escaped her. What felt like minutes for her were actual hours in reality. Each passing second caused parts of her sensitive anatomy to throb. Barely noticeable at first, but on the cusp of climax when almost finished.

Wendy completed her newest sketch a little before midnight. She leaned back in the chair and surveyed her art. It was another image of "herself", held in mid air as multiple, thin tendrils were attached to "her" extremities. Two of which were wrapped around "her" breasts and attached to "her" nipples. Another tendril was looped around "her" clitoris. Meanwhile, thicker tentacles were violating "her" mouth, pussy and ass. She gave extra attention to details, such as the bulging of the lower intestines from the invader in "her" rear. A liberal amount of pussy juice coating the girth in "her" snatch. As well as the thickness of "her" neck from the tentacle crammed down "her" throat.

Wendy didn't realize her hand was in her panties and lightly touching her clit while looking over her newest masterpiece. A tiny orgasm sparked from between her legs, causing the young woman to tremble in her seat. It felt nice but wasn't truly rewarding. Removing her hand from her underwear, her middle finger rubbed the slightest amount of her cum on top of her doodle's cunt.

"Jesus, I need to get laid." Wendy groaned. "Everyone else in this fucking city is having the best sex of their lives, all because of this slime. And I'm here fantasizing about it. Fuck! Life is so unfair."

Letting out a long yawn, the young woman turned off the lamp at her desk and made her way to the bedroom. Wendy slowly climbed into the bed and pulled the covers over her exhausted body. She found a comfortable position on the mattress, closed her eyes, and within minutes was asleep. Unaware of the presence within her apartment.

Dangling from the ceiling air vent was a single droplet of translucent mood slime. The droplet lowered from the vent. Stretching its essence like candy taffy and softly landing on the very paper Wendy sketched on earlier. The micro-blob wiggled across the erotic image for several seconds, then absorbed the ink directly off the parchment, leaving the canvas blank. It increased in mass, becoming a half dollar sized puddle of black gel. Then it twisted and sizzled for a few seconds and finally inserted its entire essence into the novelty phallic ink pen. The pen rocketed off the desk, flew across the apartment and slammed against the open door of Wendy's bedroom.

Wendy lifted her head off her pillow and glanced at her surroundings. Nothing seemed out of the norm, and so she placed her head back onto the comfortable cushion and fell asleep again. After a few minutes, the pen slowly rolled across the carpeted floor. Extra careful not to make any noises. It came to a rest at the bedframe, unable to roll any further. The pen started to shake on the carpet. Slowly at first until reaching the intensity of a cheap vibrator.

A dark energy expanded from the artifact, causing it to levitate off the floor. It continued to vibrate but was more audible in the air. It hovered beside the bed, rising higher and higher. The possessed pen continued its journey and floated over the bed, hovering a few feet above the woman's torso and face. The energy increased in intensity, spreading its power to the bed and peeling the covers away from Wendy's body.

The sleeping woman slowly awakened, feeling a temperature difference upon her drowsy flesh. Her ears were first to notice the novelty item hovering above her body. Her eyes snapped open and immediately focused on the pen. It shook violently above her, swelling at one end. The swelling traveled along the length of the phallic pen, coming to rest at the "head" of the cock.

"What the fu-"

Black ink exploded out of the "dick-tip", covering the auburn haired beauty in dark, viscous fluid. The majority of it splashed on her torso and face, then redirected down her abdomen and ended the eruption on her pelvic region. The phallic pen shook for an extra two seconds and actually went limp like a spent cock. Finally, it fell on the mattress and rolled across the bed.

Wendy coughed and spat the black substance from her mouth. The taste of it would linger on her thoughts forever. She continued to react instinctively, using her hands to wipe the sticky goo away from her face and off her soiled shirt. She sat up and tried her best to wipe away the charcoal sludge off her lower half. Her efforts merely smeared the fluid across her face, chest, arms and legs. It clung to her skin like tar. But her shirt and underwear absorbed a great amount of the black ink, making her breasts and nethers feel icky.

"Fuck! That's so gross. It tastes like cum!" Wendy continued to spit, mortified at the realization.

The young woman rolled out of the bed and stripped off her soiled shirt and underwear, tossing both garments at the foot of the bed. Wendy turned and looked at herself in the mirror mounted to a wall. Her naked image made her think of a sex crime victim, covered with dried mud and left on the side of the road. The socks on her feet completed the look. She yearned for a hot shower and a gallon of mouthwash. The whole situation made her feel uneasy.

What worried her the most was something on her skin. Something that looked like letters. Letters that made words. Two words to be exact. In the mirror, they were backwards. But Wendy could clearly read what was written on her body roughly four inches above her clitoris:

FUCK HOLES

Wendy took two steps toward her bathroom and froze in place. Her mind tried to push her body forward, but her body refused to cooperate. An invisible force rendered her helpless. She felt a tightness forming around her waist and suddenly was pulled back onto the bed. Her body landed right in the center of the soiled mattress, her limbs coincidentally spread out across the fitted sheet.

A grotesque noise gained her attention, fearfully making her raise her head to view the source. Wendy watched in terror as the black ink erupted from her shirt and panties, creating an abomination in the natural world. Multiple tentacles of different sizes and lengths violently waved throughout her bedroom. Some capable of touching the nearby walls and ceiling. The sight was so horrific, Wendy almost failed to realize she could move again.

She tried to get away but two bundles of slim tendrils wrapped around her ankles, keeping her legs apart. A thick tentacle slid under her back and made multiple loops around her waist. Two more bundles of slim tendrils looped around her wrists, forcing her arms to be outstretched. Wendy tried to thrash about but the slime binding her body gave her little room to move of free will.

Suddenly, Wendy was jerked off the mattress and lifted in the air. The strength of the tentacles astonished her. Completely amazed the gelatinous mass was capable of lifting her so high up. The tendrils and tentacles held her in a horizontal position. Her face and torso roughly two feet away from the ceiling. Wendy trembled at the thought of what would happen next.

Her concern became a reality as the tentacles continued their assault. The ends of the tendrils wrapped around her ankles dipped into her socks, stretching the fabric until the cotton shredded apart, leaving her soles bare. The ends of the tendrils yawned open and engulfed each of her toes. At the same time, the tendrils at her wrists engulfed all of her fingers and thumbs. Another series of slime tendrils emerged and looped around her breasts, squeezing them forcefully. The attention to Wendy's torso had an immediate reaction, causing her nipples to harden. As well as the slightest pulse between her legs. The slime looped around her breasts copied the others, and latched onto the woman's tits.

Simultaneously, all of the tendrils attached to her body began sucking on her flesh. Wendy gasped at the sensations. Each one feeling like tiny mouths, with lips and tongues manipulating her body. The suckling on her fingers and toes felt strange, but the suckling on her nipples made her moan and buck her hips. Wendy could feel herself becoming more aroused. It surprised her and disgusted her, knowing the events unfolding were extremely unnatural. But in the back of her mind, a long-term fantasy was becoming a reality. And it was making her pussy drool.

Another tendril emerged from the black mass and elongated towards Wendy's nethers. It swayed from side-to-side, as if studying the anatomy before it. Wendy noticed the thin length of goo mere inches from her sex. Her heart raced, almost causing a knot to form in her throat from anxiety. The heightened alertness made her clit jump without any control. The mood slime sensed Wendy's accelerated arousal and struck.

The tendril slid between her pussy lips and flicked her pearl multiple times. Then it also formed a mouth and latched directly onto Wendy's erect clit. The suckling was more aggressive than anything happening to her fingers and toes, or even her nipples. She could feel the slime mouth's tongue massaging and licking every millimeter of her sensitive bud. Wendy's hips bucked at the assault, leaving her with mixed feelings of repulsion and reluctance. She knew it was wrong, but her body said it was right.

"Oh my god!" she cried out from the pleasure overriding her senses.

Things evolved from there as a thick tentacle grew out of the slimy black mass and approached her dripping sex. Wendy felt the end of the slimy tentacle press against her lower lips. It pushed but not forcefully. As if trying to ease itself inward, gently. The tendrils on her clit and nipples pulled on her flesh, eliciting a reaction.

"Fuck." Wendy moaned.

The larger tentacle reared back and buried itself deep inside the woman's body. Wendy's eyes clenched shut and grinded her teeth at the enormous girth invading her pussy. At first it hurt but the combination of spectral energy; as well as her own arousal, made the pain quickly disappear. All that was left was pleasure.

The tendrils wrapped around her breasts changed intensity, and squeezed her globes in massaging motions. The tendrils attached elsewhere alternated their movements. Gentle suckling and licking at first, followed by sharp "biting" and pulling on her flesh. Wendy's pussy was creating a slime of its own, further greasing up the animated black liquid moving in and out of her sensitive passage. This only increased the intensity of the abomination's actions.

Wendy's body moved in the air as if she was being fucked in her bed. Her breasts; though bound by the slime, swayed in all directions. Her lower half rocked backward and forward while the thicker slime vine whipped its entire length from origin to end. Driving itself deeper and deeper into Wendy's pussy until she was certain it was striking her cervix. The tentacle buried in her snatch gave her another surprise. It reformed the end of its length, allowing it to continuously manipulate her g-spot while stroking every single pleasure nerve throughout her velvet passage.

The woman moaned in pleasure, unaware of another tentacle approaching her body. It was slightly smaller than the one deep inside her pussy. And several shades lighter than its slimy brethren. But no less important to the event unfolding. Without warning, the smaller tentacle slammed into Wendy's rosebud and pushed inward.

"FUCK! MY! ASS!" she shouted, somewhere between shocking realization and lustful commanding.

The tentacle chose the latter and twisted and twirled itself in the newly invaded hole. Wendy was reluctantly grateful the slime was lubricated. Or the intrusion would have been so painful she'd suffer nightmares the rest of her life. The thicker tentacle worked in tandem with the smaller twin. One would thrust inward, the other would withdraw. Over and over while both massaged and collided against Wendy's insides. Her ass twitched repeatedly while her pussy liberally flowed all over the larger tentacle. Wendy's juices dripped off the thicker length, landing on the bed below. Or it continued to slide along the tentacle to its base, causing the unnatural mass to sizzle and bubble.

In spite of enjoying herself, Wendy continued to understand the reality at hand. She wasn't dreaming. It was actually happening. Mood slime of some origin was having its way with her body. Making her feel pleasure in ways she never could have received in the normal world. She had not even achieved an orgasm but could feel one or a series building up from within. Her mind continued to fight against the living fantasy. It was wrong. All wrong. She knew it. It needed to stop no matter how badly her body gave in. She inhaled as much air as possible, and screamed with all her might.