Hi everyone! Sorry it took me a while to put out another chapter. I also apologize there isn't much 'fun action' in this one. But next chapter which I am already working on will have plenty to make up for it. Promise!
I'm also still very open for suggestions on what kind of scenes Prism will do. You can email me at my profile.
Enjoy!
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–IFSC's Quarters –
It had been a few hours since Prism's trip to Melanie Suros' room and there had been many other clients taken care of. But then the board blinked with a name that actually caused Prism a very small fraction of distress to see.
Allen Wright.
He had been on board the Departed Scholar for far too long and as a veteran of an impressive amount of combat engagements it was getting bad. Allen Wright had been assigned to the Security Services department of the ship and served as littler more than an overly glorified chaperon. Whenever he had his visits with Prism, he spent them in a very odd fashion. Prism, being a slime, rarely had thoughts of her own, and even more rarely developed opinions on different people or things. Wright however, was one of very few people that had ever had an effect on Prism's mind.
Client Request: "You know what I want."
Each request was titled the same after the first which read: "A learning experience." Prism's gooey form visibly shook for a moment as she acknowledged the request to the ship's Artificial Intelligence.
As the AI spout out a few more bits of information, Prism simply took on her RF and lowered her head. She acquired the habit from seeing humans when they were "sad" or "depressed". Prism didn't realize she had picked up the habit and never gave it much thought. The slime had just found it to be natural when visiting Wright. Reluctantly, she made her way out into the hallway, walking over to her destination taking into account each rule in her manual while walking.
– Outside Allen Wright's Quarters –
Allen Wright had a different quarters, separated from the rest of the barracks that housed the handful of security personnel. The Security Barracks was located near the center of the Plaza that made up the middle of the Departed Scholar. It was a positively massive room stretching high enough that sometimes clouds would form depending on what part of the system they were in. The Plaza was the only open space on the entire ship and had many buildings scattered about giving it the look of a large city with a dome over the top of it. It was in fact, designed to give the passengers relief on long journeys through space. The Ship's captain would even turn the ship to make sure the system's sun, or suns hit the dome as they would on a real planet.
The Barracks dominated the northern corner of the Plaza and was far bigger than needed as it was only ever a third full at any time. Its size was deemed necessary in case more personnel ever needed to be recruited or any refugees needed a place to stay.
East of the barrack's main entrance was a long hallway to Wright's room with several doorways that required ID to enter. As Wright opened the first doorway Prism walked through, her form then quickly changing. As she made her way through each doorway, Wright began taunting her through the PA. "Target spotted, outside main hallway, suspected to be armed and dangerous," he hissed into the PA system, Prism once again shook as she continued to walk.
Prism began to remember the last time she had been there. Wright made her attach herself to his pelvis, sucking his member while chunks of her would stretch out into the room where he would use them as target practice. Though Prism couldn't feel anything as the bullets penetrated her gooey form, she detested any kind of violence. On other occasions, Wright hadn't even used her for anything sexual. Using her as a literal moving target for his marksmanship practice. Making her solid and using her as a punching bag for one entire session. He practiced his baton swings and other bladed weapons on her previously, slicing her body into bits. If Prism knew what hate was, she would feel it for Wright.
The form he would have her turn into, was that of a younger woman from his past, he mentioned only once who she was. "Someone who turned me down." She would have three long, thick braids that fell down her back, one flowing down each shoulder blade and another that fell directly down her back just above her butt. Big eyes sat just above well pronounced cheek bones with thin lips and perfect teeth. A rather average nose finished off her face with a pair of dimples that would appear whenever she smiled. Which, Wright made her do a lot and not out of happiness. Prism did not understand what that was.
No clothes would be present on Prism while visiting Wright, even if she had formed clothes at any point, it would usually result in Wright smashing where Prism's face would be into a puddle of goo. Her form continued to make it's way to the final doorway where Wright now stood.
The man was easily over six feet, with broad shoulders, muscles adorning his chest, arms and legs as he stood with his arms crossed. Wright was pale like most space faring people, only he had short brown hair which seemed unnatural for his head. Currently he wore a tight fitted green shirt with short sleeves, dark black pants held up with a thick black belt and black boots.
"Target is approaching." His voice was heavy, almost as if it took effort for him say each word as he spoke very slowly. A grin spread across his face as he watched his target approach him. "Engaging target," he then yelled and quickly dashed for Prism.
A few feet from the slime, Wright threw his right arm out and quickly grabbed at Prism's neck. The slime knew that the soldier wanted her to be solid and allowed the grasp to happen. The goo struggled to maintain it's viscosity as Wright squeezed tightly and began to drag the gooey figure away into the quarters.
– Inside Allen Wright's Quarters –
Prism splashed against the wall and looked at Wright with yet another customer tailored expression. One of innocence. Wright came back with another throat grab with his right hand, his left hand suddenly connecting with Prism's right side. The security officer began to beat Prism violently with both hands, throwing punches and throwing the girl around the room causing a great deal of sound no one would hear.
Wright apparently, had no interest in anything sexual this time. He simply took out all the rage a person could on Prism knowing full well she couldn't die. Fifteen minutes of abuse and Wright was done. Prism didn't understand. But it wasn't her place to understand. Not only did she not get any pleasure in the acts he committed, but she did not even get the nourishment that she thrived off of as her usual payment for her services. She left and slowly took on her RF as she exited his quarters. Slimes were never known to be emotional, they weren't known for really anything other than their current use in Human Society. But Prism did feel something. Something she couldn't explain or understand. Perhaps it was shame. Maybe it was anger. Unable to pinpoint her exact feeling, she decided to simply push it aside. Locking it away with all the other 'feelings' she couldn't handle.
– IFSC Quarters –
After Wright's visits, Prism always seemed a little off for a while. She brought up the communication with her Handler on the ship's bridge. A Slime Handler was simply someone that the slimes answered to whenever they needed anything. They normally weren't anyone important, the title was usually just given to the communication or navigation officer onboard. The board that usually showed the list of clients and their requests changed to an image of a person.
It was a portrait view of the person, a large helmet sealing away most of their face, leaving only their lower jaw and mouth in view. Hoses and wires fed out from the helmet into random ports on the wall behind the navigation officer, "Go ahead." Her voice was almost robotic as she spoke. Hera, the navigation officer had her voice attached to transmitting nodes throughout the ship as she also served as the announcer when Atlas the AI wasn't in charge of the duty.
"Navigation Officer Hera, this is Prism 2527," Prism's voice was small right now, quiet as a whisper.
