TW: This story contains scenes of seemingly dubious consent sexual activity. Also sounding (object being inserted into the urethra.) Do not worry, nobody gets hurt, everything is 100% consensual, all characters are fictious and over 18 etc etc.
Tags: Monster Girl, Slime Girl, Femdom, Orgasm Denial, Sounding, Slice of Life, Urban Fantasy, Body Horror (?), Lactation, Mind Control, mommy dommy
Prokaryotic Love
or
The Importance of Staying Hydrated
Greg hummed softly to himself as he tipped the large, bulk sized bag over and spilled the contents into the bathtub. The thick, off white granules of salts and other minerals hissed softly as they hit the hot water rapidly filling the tubs basin, and it briefly steamed off a faint pink mist. Greg coughed and waved it away, then smiled as a gentle perfumed scent wafted up and the water began to bubble. He stirred it carefully with a stick as the tub filled, shutting the water off when the fine layer of foam threatened to reach the lip of the bath.
"There," he said to himself, dropping the stick aside on the bathroom floor. "Salts, minerals, nutrients - everything a hard-working girl needs!" He crumpled the top of the dog-food bag sized sack of bathsalts to seal it and propped it against a wall in the far corner before going back to the kitchen to fix his own meal. He most certainly did not and should not consume what was in that tub (or touch it for extended periods if the warning label was to be believed), so he needed to make sure dinner was ready before Alisson got home.
Alisson was his girlfriend. They had been going out for three years, living together for just over one. She was fun, bubbly (literally and figuratively), and Greg adored her - but she had special needs that needed to be worked around. Greg didn't mind, because she more than made it worth the effort. Plus, he only ever had to cook for himself, so that was a plus.
He was in the kitchen putting the finishing touches on his porkchops when he heard the dull heavy thumping of boots stop in the hallway outside the apartment door, and the jangling of keys. He shut off the stove and plated up his food before quickly grabbing a glass of water from the fridge dispenser, swigging it down with a palm full of supplements. Hydration and vitamins were particularly important in his relationship. At least if he wanted to be able to get into work tomorrow.
He washed his hands and went out to the living room as the door opened. In stepped a towering, 7-foot-tall figure clad in a thick hazmat suit, high hard rubber boots thumping against the floor. Greg smiled and rubbed his hands with a towel. "Hey babe, how was work?" he asked, welcoming her home.
The towering figure raised a mute, gloved hand as she closed the door behind herself, before reaching up behind her neck to breach the seal linking her hooded helmet with the rest of the suit. There was an audible pop and hiss, and a small waft of steam leaked out. "Exhausting!" replied Alisson, tipping her head back and gasping for air, moisture beading on her chin before being absorbed back into her body.
Her skin was a faint off-pastel pink, like washed out bubblegum. Just pink enough to be noticeably alien, without looking like certain adventurous cartoon characters. Her hair, currently spooled on top of her head like a bun, was an amorphous curtain of strawberry red, and she shook it out till it hung over her shoulders in a bouncy approximation of 'hair-shape'. Alisson was a PAL. Prokaryotic Ambulatory Lifeform. Or, as they were more commonly known - slimes. Greg preferred to think of her like taffy, though.
With a relieved sigh, Alisson stripped out of her suit, the large frame revealing itself to be an exaggeration of her actual size. Once she hung everything up and stepped out of her boots, she sank a good two feet, her slim pink body completely naked except for a scant bra and some briefs (and those he knew she only wore for his benefit), beads of moisture running down her body. Greg grinned, eying her appreciatively. She hated how she looked after work, but Greg loved to ogle her any time. She looked up at him with a brightening expression and skipped over, twining her arms around his neck. "Hey babe," she purred, kissing him on the chin, leaving a faint tingling mark, "How's my favorite gamete inserter?" Greg rolled his eyes and kissed her head, reaching up to lightly stroke the bouncy tendril of her hair. "Good to know you don't love me just for my genetic tissue, Allie. I'm good - rough day at work?"
"No," she sighed, leaning against him and nuzzling his cheek affectionately. Her body was warm, and soft. In many ways it felt like any other person's, just with a bit extra squish. The reality was below the surface she had no skeleton. Or organs. It was all a colony of cells, fused together around a nucleus in her deepest part. "Just tiring, it gets so hot in that suit!" Alisson was a chemical engineer. Her work required her to handle materials that might be hazardous, especially to her unique physiology. That and practical considerations necessitated the big heavy suit. "I'm so skinny now," she moped, "look at me I've lost so much weight!"
Greg chuckled and gave her midsection a squeeze, kissing her lightly on the corner of the mouth. "Well don't worry, you look fantastic to me. Besides, bath's ready. Hot and well mixed, just how you like it." Alisson's expression brightened considerably, and she gave him a (literally) bubbling kiss. "Wonderful! Mm, join me?" she asked, pressing against him and sliding her mostly nude body against him. Her skin was soft and damp and clung slightly to him before peeling away. He could feel her through his shirt, moisture seeping into the fabric, and wherever she touched him tingled faintly from chemical reaction. She was tasting him. Licking the salt and other things off his skin. Greg cleared his throat and shook his head. "No, no, I've got my own dinner to eat. C'mon, go take your bath, before it gets cold."
Alisson pouted and stepped back an arm's length, body slowly absorbing her underwear before dropping it unceremoniously to the floor. She winked at him and cupped a palm-sized breast, but Greg was adamant and shook his head. With an annoyed harumph, she sauntered past him to the bathroom, hips swaying. She cast a coy glance in his direction before closing the door. A few moments later, a loud audible sigh leaked out from under the door as Alisson slid into the bath - loaded with the minerals and nutrients and moisture she had lost during the day. Her dinner.
Greg chuckled at the sound of her relieved sigh and went back to the kitchen. He had his own supper to eat in the meantime. On his way, he grabbed another glass of water and an extra pill. He shouldn't take too many (zinc poisoning was a thing), but she seemed riled up and he knew better than to tempt fate. Hydration and vitamins, that was the secret sauce.
He ate alone, watching a bit of TV while he listened to the loud sighs and slurping noises coming from the bathroom. She would be drinking in the water of the bath as well as the salts and other nutrition in the bath-mix. Together, it provided ALMOST everything she needed. Almost. The rest - well, that was up to Greg. Relationships were 'hard', but he was 'up' to the task. Greg sniggered to himself, downing an extra tall glass of water after he finished eating and washing up, loosening his collar in preparation. He knew what was coming.