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Letter Written to Eshere in Regards to the Nocturnal Troubles Experienced by Tik Tik in Recent Evenings—

To My Sexy Slimy Scribe Eshere,

I hope this letter finds your university classes going well. You no doubt have been wondering about my recent anxieties and lack of coordination in our recent encounters. It is time for me to come clean about a recent concern of mine finally. I do not wish to tear you from your studies, but this has become bothersome enough that your aid is required to divine the situation's truth.

I should begin this with a story to help me organize my thoughts more effectively. Though I have doubts, writing down details may also help me find a solution to this mystery without requiring further assistance from you or others.

I first noticed that something was wrong last week. It was after I had read a thrilling and arousing tale from a publication of erotic persuasion that I decided that leaving my bed would be a waste of time. So, with the thoughts of the story ringing through my mind, I decided to take care of myself then and there.

Of course, the following detail is vital, my beloved scribe. It's simply worth the ink to leave you blushing metaphorically. The cost I pay in ink and timeliness is worth it, knowing you will be inflamed with desire.

That evening, I lay upon the soft cushion of my divan, comfortably on my side, with one arm up along the length of the mattress. The other held the book aloft, dangling the tantalizing pages before me. Despite my best efforts to keep myself from focusing on the task, my knees rubbed together as the author described the passion that burned within her.

I rolled onto my back posthaste, clinging the book to my chest and sighing, closing my eyes, and shuddering as I longed for the touch of a lover to be with me. Indeed, I could have called forth one of my apprentices to do the task. However, that evening, I craved something of a practiced and dominant hand, so only my ministrations would do.

Conjuring up my magical reserves, I summoned my go-to favorite spell, making the ghostly hands appear before me and lift the book over my head. My hands were idle in this exchange, only making the somatic expressions necessary to focus the spellwork. What good is mastering the arcane if one can't use it to entice oneself in many delightful ways?

With both arms high above me, I spread my legs ever-so-lightly. Ghostly hands flick the page to get me to the following exciting passage. More of my conjured servants appeared, the palms large enough to clap over my mouth if desired, but I wished to hear myself squeal, my scribe! So, they slipped down, gripping me by the side, squeezing my delicate form, pinning me down by the hips and by the shoulders.

I afforded my tail some freedom, flicking it between my legs and up toward my wanting sex. Another side of me denied myself, an apparition gripping my appendage tightly and pinning it down over my divan.

Another gruff grabber clamped around both wrists, keeping me pinned down to my own devices. Mirroring the rough ministrations of the narrator's lover. I fought against my spellwork, squirming and squealing. Yes, indeed! My spell work was so compelling that I overcame my frustration! Denial caused by one's on hand—how remarkable that is, Eshere. You must try it once you master your mage and scholar skills!

The fingers turned to the next page, where the lover had decided to push things further. He had exerted his control but took what he desired, so another ghostly hand manifested. This time, it was between my legs, and two thick fingers pushed up inside me, splitting me apart, squishing through the slickened wetness that was my desire.

Oh, how disastrous it is to be so distracted that one cannot work without getting off. It is a curse for all those who enjoy their work far too much, and I am most definitely within that range.

How do I like a lover to pleasure me down there? Oh, it depends. And that reflected that day. The fingers slowly pushed inside, flicking back and forth, kicking like a swimmer desperate to remain afloat. Then, they curl the wrist, bending, digits rocking, anchoring index and pinky pressing against my scaled flesh. The slicking and squishing filled my hearing as they flicked in me. I lifted my hips, feeling the need to move, but they would not let me.

A palm firmly clapped against my womb, pushing me down and keeping me stuck straight to the divan.

Oh, if only you were here to record it, Eshere! You would have given immorality to the pleas that I asked of myself. The panting gasps that got higher and hired filled my perception. The fingers blasting inside me, shoving and wriggling and dominating, sending shivers of delight! It was too much, I say. Oh, too much for one kobold to handle on her own!

And I caused myself to climax so messily upon the divan, Eshere! Spurts of delight passed through the ethereal fingers, spilling and staining the cushions. At my body's release, I removed the spectral hands from me.

The book crashed down upon my face! Such an embarrassment it was, but only for a moment. So addled was I and so desirous of more delights that I ripped the tome from me and sent it scattered to the floor! For this reason, I haven't told you the book's name. How scandalous if the author should find out how I treat their work!

After that sacrilegious effect, I rolled to my stomach. My hands shot down between my legs, letting my fingers reach into my depths as best as they could.

Sometimes, it requires one's hand to get things done. Riding that high the hands afforded me, I flicked my bean. I delved into my depths, and I assaulted my G-spot. Oh, I'm sure my eyes fluttered in such an intoxicating way. I know that I panted so heavily that the growls that emerged from my throat were more monster than mage. I lifted my tail so high, inviting someone, anyone, to assail me and free me from the drudgery of my fornication.

But no one would have me then. I had to take care of myself. I had to light that fire within me. And light it, I did, over and over again. I bit into the arm of my divan, drooling over it, groaning as I shifted this way and that, my middle finger doing much of the work as I sent myself off to blissful paradise over and over again. With each scream, I thought of all the adventures I could go on. With each release, I imagined a different friend giving me delight. After each ride, I set myself up again to repeat the process.

My imagination eventually won out over my physical exertion. Despite being sticky with dried delight, I conjured my journal to myself and scrawled out as many details as possible. Sadly, it's just not the same when you're not around. This was all I could muster to tell you, as crude as it was.

Sometimes, I come up with my best ideas after the glow of so many climaxes. Sometimes, I also wonder if indulging in delights harms my health—especially concerning a bedroom's primary use.

Worries of sleep came over me as I lay there, but it would require less stimulating reading to get me to a more relaxed state. So, I summoned forth a recounting of the daily events in Anteronia. For all of its boasting of being the city of sin, it can hardly match my freak, I'm afraid. Soon enough, after reading about the newest judicator series of rulings, I found the arrival of the Sandman to come upon me.

Sufficiently tired from a night of work and sexually and intellectually satisfied, I turned in for the night in the calming cold of my room, letting nothing bar the way between myself and the sheets, as I so often enjoy.

However, the night did not allow me to have a pleasant sleep. My heart fluttered in the middle of my rest, and my womanhood quivered. I tensed up, screaming into the cold openness of my chamber, flung so violently from the land of Nod that I collapsed onto the floor, tangled in sheets, drenched in sweat. I had my hand down between my legs. When I finally wrenched myself free from the entangling covers, I found that my fingers were drenched with the excretions of ecstasy.

For at least an hour afterward, I sat there, pondering what sort of dream I could have had to create such a situation, as the previous day had been much more fulfilling intellectually and sexually.

I wouldn't have been so worried if it had been a singular instance. But the next night, I decided to finish my frustrations with the faucet in the bathing chamber. Suitably sprayed and screaming through the showers, I returned to my bed, warmed by the water, dried sufficiently, and plopped in for eight hours.

Again, I was awakened by a violent orgasm ripping through me.

I am vexed. My subconscious sometimes plays tricks on me, conjuring up dreamy hallucinations when I deny myself the pleasures of the flesh. Though those days are few and far between when they do happen, the feeling is exciting and annoying all at once. This somehow seemed different.

It continued to seem that way for the next few days, and I could not, for my life, find out WHY.

So, I write to you, Eshere, asking that you help extract memories from deep within me. I know you are studying such magic to supplement your natural power, and I implore you to come to me and take me. I wish nothing more than to be rid of this nightly visitation of sexual dreams I cannot remember. What good is a sexy dream if I cannot remember what pleasures are inflicted upon me?

So, consider this a booty call if you wish. I crave the touch of your slime over my body. I desire you to dine on the fluids that you milk from me in your grasp. Please take the dreams out of my locked memory and tell me exactly what's happening.

Let not this opportunity be wasted, my friend, for I shall be at your mercy during our dalliance. Use me as you see fit, and show me what skills you have learned.

Your ever-loving friend,

Tik Tik.

P.S. how is your friend Erin? Is she still sullen and quiet? If you wish to discuss your concerns about her, I shall happily be a shoulder to cry on.

——

The courier arrives at the prestigious Anteronia University dormitory building with a professional smile for the staff. He stops at the various magical checkpoints and displays his courier cap to the guards protecting the student body. Passing into the first-floor corridor, he stops at the lift, the magic glowing as he makes his way to the center.

He pulls the note out from his pouch and reads off the address, saying the floor, activating the elevator, and soon rising to be where he seeks.

As he passes through various quiet and closed doors, he also tips his hat towards ladies milling about, not paying him mind. After all, messages and messengers are not unexpected in the high-spirited world of academia.

Approaching one of the many doors, the courier clears his throat, stands tall, and knocks on the door.

"Message for Eshere the Sex Jelly. Is Eshere there?"

Frantic whispers and a crash on the other side precede a voice calling from the other end. "Cuh-coming!"

There's a little snicker before a hush. It's quiet momentarily before green fluid pokes through the door's cracks and grips the opposite side, pulling it open.

Standing in the doorway is Eshere, her form a bit loose and goopy. Her eyes droop gently as she scans over the messenger.

He stands tall, holding out the letter.

"Thanks," Eshere grumbles, reaching behind her, her arm extending and slapping on the side table where a few coins lay. They slurp through her body and erupt in the palm of her offered hand.

The courier takes it and tips his hat.

Eshere considers him a moment, leaning against the door frame, biting her lip. "You don't happen to want to come in, do you?"

"Sorry, ma'am!" says the messenger, stuffing his coins in his pouch. "A courier's work is never done!"

Eshere sniffs and shrugs, closing the door behind her.

"You've got no game, Esh!" a voice shouts from an adjoining room.

"I got you in there, don't I?" Eshere concentrates on her finger, flattening it, pointing it. With its new form, she pokes through the envelope, tears it open, and pinches the paper. Lifting it up, she narrows her eyes, reading the text silently.

"You coming back here, Esh? I don't have all day, you know."

Eshere places the paper down, sloshing over, her legs meld to each other. She holds her appendages close to herself, her form melting into the protoplasmic blob of her natural state. However, her face keeps its contemplative look, even as it floats in her cytoplasm.

When she pushes open the bathroom door, she slurps over to the tub, forming herself into a humanoid shape, sitting her facsimile of an ass on the edge and glancing down at the woman lying within.

She is a gently plump sort, naked and lounging, though with no water. She keeps her eyes closed and folds her hands under her breast, her thumbs twiddling, her short hair messy over her head.

"Libi," Eshere coos, bringing a goopy hand to her cheek.

Libi opens her gray eyes, looking at the slime with gentle happiness. She unlaces her fingers and holds onto Eshere's hand. "What's the matter, Esh?"

The slime slips down, spilling into the tub, sloshing over the human woman, filling the space with a chilled and refreshing ooze that envelopes the girl, filling in crevices, entwining and laying upon her.

Eshere forms her face in front of Libi, then leans in, pressing her mouth to Libi's lips.

Libi shares the kiss with her, the human's tongue delving deep and swirling around the translucent headspace of the slime girl. Spit and slime trail together when they pull back, and the mix drizzles down Libi's face.

"Miss Tik needs assistance," sighs Eshere. "I don't know how long I'll be away."

Libi flutters her eyes and nuzzles her cheek against Eshere. Her hand presses against the slime's center, pushing through, slurping inside her, and reaching to the heart core that floats within. She caresses it, rubbing to the slow throbbing that shows that the slime is alive.

"It's okay, Esh. You know we'll help keep you up with the class. Just suck the studies out of me."

"Sometimes, I wish I didn't have to do that," Eshere says.

"You say as you're sucking on my sweat right now," Libi adds.

"Among other things," Eshere retorts, fingers finding their way between the human's legs.

Libi gasps, her mouth open, her eyes half-closed.

"She hopes she could help Erin, too."

Libi nods, rocking her hips slightly. "We can't… ah… force Erin… to talk."

"She hasn't let me touch her in weeks," Eshere says. "I grow more worried." She pushes down inside, wriggling about, finding that G-spot.

The human under her squirms and whines, sloshing in the slimy bath. Eshere holds Libi by the back of the head, watching her with an almost clinical stare. "But I suppose we can handle that later," Eshere says, her fingers thickening, pumping, essentially milking her.

Libi's back arches, and she tenses up. She takes in a deep breath, about to scream out in orgasmic glee, but that's when Eshere's goopy form fills her mouth, letting that scream reverberate through her being, all the air and the spit and the cum and the sweat all over her body transfers to Eshere.

Libi collapses, and Eshere pulls away. When the slime does, she stands much more solid and looks almost like Libi, but she has long braids in heart shapes. Instead of the short hair, she looms over her, folding her arms over her chest and frowning.

"You're dealing with some things you haven't told me about either," Eshere says.

"What? Me?" Libi teases.

"Hypnotists? Curses? You've been suffering from a lot of long-term harm from your 'side job' lately," the slime asks, frowning.

“Don't… ha… worry about it…" Libi responds, lying sprawled as much as she can in the tub. "Go help… your mistress. I'll figure my shit… out."

—

Eshere carries her scant belongings out of her dormitory and to the carriage she had arranged. A big suitcase is beside her meager bag, meaning she isn't alone in her journey.

As she steps into the seating, she nods to her companion and slumps down on the bench, staring out the window.

Across from her is a young man of dwarvish stock dressed in the colors and robes of the university. His beard is nicely combed, and his eyes are a soulful dark blue.

There is silence between them as the carriage sets off on its journey. The first length of their trip takes them through the cobbled streets of Anteronia proper, familiar neighborhoods and calming locations.

The dwarf is the first to speak up, saying. "Are you, by chance, Eshere, the slime scribe? I'm Tord Dragendreper—heading off to Bergburg to work on my thesis."

Eshere peeks up at the dwarf, sighing and shifting, sitting forward. "Yes, my reputation precedes me."

"Well, there aren't many slimes of your intelligence," Tord admits. "Just like there aren't many dwarves willing to crack open a book and work on the path to wizardry. So, what takes you to travel? Another riveting adventure with the mysterious mage, Tik Tik?" He strokes his beard, closing his eyes. "No, that can't be the case. You'd surely teleport if that were so.

Eshere shakes her head. "Unfortunately, we had a break-in a while back, and the teleporter has been down since."

"Ah, is that so? I suppose that's why the publications out of her tower have been slowed down, eh? That's too bad." He sits back, crossing one squat leg over the other, draping his arms over the back of the seat. "Well, that leads you toward many new adventures now, don't it?"

"Yes," Eshere admits. "I suppose it does."

"Well, Miss Eshere, I wanted to ask you something.

Eshere shifts in her seat, a soft frown forming on her face. "Oh? And what could that be? In regards to Tik Tik? My peculiarities?"

He smiles warmly through that beard and shakes his head. "No, no, nothing like that. Professors Hornswaggle and Chamberlain were arguing over the precise nature of telepathic communication. You wrote an essay on that last semester. I wondered if you'd wish to listen to my hypothesis."

At that, the slime relaxes and smiles. "Well, I was thinking there might be a medium where all thoughts travel, as mentioned in the Authoritas Mementicas."

Their discussion continues throughout most of the journey. As they leave the city gates and head to the long and prosperous farm fields surrounding it, dissertations on different esoterica pass between them.

Fields turn to forests, with trees from the Wildlands darkening the passage. The brave coach continues while two wizards make note of their studies, aware but unperturbed by the strange creatures that make their homes in the undergrowth, watching and waiting for an opportunity to strike.

But it is a lovely trip that clings to Eshere's core. She giggles slightly.

"And why are you so mirthful, eh?"

"Oh, it's just… you lose this when you have to teleport everywhere. Tik Tik was always so enamored with the destinations after she got her device working—she forgot about the fun the journey can be."

Tord nods at this. "Yes, I suppose you're right. However, there are many more ways to travel nowadays than before. Have you heard of dream projection?"

"I'm going to be working with Tik Tik on a conundrum of dreams!"

"Well, let me see if I can find you some books. Maybe Tord Dragendreper will be acknowledged in one of Eshere's great works!"

"Oh, what irony it would be for a Dragendreper to be in Tik Tik's acknowledgments."

"I didn't misspeak, Eshere—I said in one of your great works." He points toward her. "You've got the makings of a great intellect beyond your diet."

"I know I," she stops, considers, and nods. "Thanks… for saying that out loud. I suppose I needed to hear that."

—

The carriage rolls up through the forest, finding its way through the winding path leading to the small but mystically impressive tower. Eshere slurps out of her seat, waving to her dwarvish companion. "I'll look forward to the results of your study!"

"Do take care now!" Tord says, "And don't have too much fun!"

Eshere shakes her head, turning toward the impressive structure standing before her. "Home," she had called it once. How strange. Now, the stone-worked doors, even large for her, are imposing and alien.

The two great portals open, stone grinding against stone, and standing behind them is the white-furred form of the canine kobold, Asuka. With trained obedience, the quiet, servile creature bows her head, her hands firmly in front of her.

"Greetings, Mistress Eshere," Asuka says. "Mistress Tik Tik has been expecting you."

The slime girl slurps off the road and over to the landing steps of the great abode. She pulls her bag from within her and places the sticky traveler's kit at the doggy kobold's feet.

Asuka's snout wrinkles slightly, but she squats to pick it up, only for a gnarled old hand to swipe the package, lifting it over his shoulder.

Old Seppel, the house kobold, smiles broadly, carrying the sack over his shoulders. "Been a long while since we had the pleasure of hostin' ya, missie. It'll be like you never left around here. Don't you worry. Got the vat ready and everything!"

Eshere nods and slips inside the dark corridors of the tower, the doors slamming shut behind her. For her and the others, light isn't necessary outside finer details, like detecting color.

"You must have had a long journey," Asuka notes. "Is there any nourishment we can provide you before you work with Mistress Tik Tik?"

"No, I assume Tik Tik wishes me to be craving."

"That's about the long and short of it," says Seppel, stepping up beside the slime girl. "The lady of the house has been waiting for you in her library. She's doing all sorts of studying, working her beautiful brain into overdrive."

Eshere reaches a hand up, closing her eyes, shutting off her perception. "Yes, I can sense it, even from here…" she says. "Take my things to the library, Seppel. I shall take a direct route."

"Very good, miss!"

Eshere's core quivers, and she slips her way through the cracks of the walls, delving through the tower and to the sprawling library, where bookshelves much higher than her kobold mistress rise up to the top of the high ceiling. Magical ambulation makes swift work of such limitations. Still, when the slime spies the kobold pouring over a relatively large tome on a comically large desk, she can't help but note just how diminutive the great mind of magic is.

Hunched over and sitting on even more books upon her large-backed chair, Tik TIk's pointed claw scans over the words of this particular dry tome, muttering in the ancient language of the dragons.

When Eshere forms up through the cracks and slurps into her humanoid form, she leans over the desk, her hands gooping on the corners, leaning in from the opposite side. Her face slurps around, orienting to see the words on the page. "Oneiromancy?"

Tik Tik yelps and hops up from her seat, slamming the book shut and staring at the slime with large, baggy eyes. "Oh, haha, Eshere. Glad to have you!" the magical kobold says, flicking a finger to lift the book and place it on the pile. She crosses one leg over the other and folds her hands, placing them neatly on her lap. "It's merely an option if you think you aren't able to retrieve my memories."

Eshere sighs. "You initiated a booty call for my specific skills and then made backup plans?"

"That I did," the kobold chirps. "I have full faith in your abilities, of course, but you could have been waylaid, or you might not be able to touch dreams," she pauses. "Something troubles you, my friend. Something more than just Erin."

"Friend, yes, that's what you call me," the slime admits. And yet, for all our friendship, you only call me out here when you need help," she slurps over the desk and leans over it. Some of her shape already drips onto the wood, seeping into it.

Tik Tik leans back, slipping on her pile of books, letting them clatter to the floor as she grabs onto the arms. She gulps, her eyes widen, and her tongue pops out a moment before she sucks it back in. "Is that such a problem?"

Eshere slips between the books, her form splitting and converging, keeping them dry until she coalesces in front of the kobold, standing before her, leaning back on the desk. Her face spins around until it faces up again. She leans in, caressing the kobold under the chin as she focuses them both on the present. "Here you are, calling me out of my precious studies when you need help. Never an invitation to any lascivious parties. Never writing your notes anymore."

"Oh, Eshere, I didn't know you missed me so much. I…"

Eshere places a sticky finger against Tik Tik's mouth, her smile wide, her eyes flashing. "Oh, it's fine, Miss Tik. It means I must make the most of it when I see you. I have to get every ounce of satisfaction out of you as I can… after all…" she says this, her hand melting, staining over the kobold's clothes, weaving into all the fibers.

"… if you can't remember your dreams, I'll have to dig DEEP into your psyche to release them."

Only a moment passes between those last words and the slime lunging forward at the kobold, submerging Tik Tik into the minty green goodness of Eshere's form. The kobold kicks, swims, and squirms under the sudden attack, her chair falling over as the two collapse.

Eshers splashes as Tik Tik tumbles out from her, coughing and giggling. "Oh fuck…" The kobold breathes, licking around her cheeks. "That's so hot."

Emerging behind her, the slime chuckles. "Of course, it is, Miss Tik."

The kobold finds herself pinned to the ground, spread out, bound by her garments.

"I've had you so many times. I know everything that makes you tick."

"Oooh, wordplay, too?"

"It's always the best," Eshere says. "You know I was having fun before your letter arrived?" Eshere says, sloshing over and facing the kobold. She lays before her, cheeks in her hands, slimy legs kicked up, slicking back and forth, throwing splotches of goop everywhere. "I had to pack up everything to help you out, and I will, of course, because I owe everything to you." She says this, placing a hand on Tik Tik's head and then another on her chin. "Now then, Miss Tik, if you're ready, please open up and prepare yourself."

Tik Tik groans and wiggles, opening her maw, saliva dripping from her teeth.

A gurgle rises from Eshere's core. The slime responds by wrapping her mouth around the waiting tongue of the kobold, locking into a silly little kiss but slurping up the delightful juices from that wriggling muscle.

The kobold cannot move, but the twitching in her body tells the slime all she needs to know.

Tik Tik fucking loves it when a monstrous being goes all out on her and shows her just how they like to let loose.

There are many ways for a slime to fuck a kobold. Eshere and Tik Tik know this because both have partaken in such delights together.

Once, Eshere formed herself into the shape of a bed, which Tik Tik used to lie upon. The kobold luxuriated and played with herself, squirming, fingering, gasping, and drooling. She let it all go as she dug her toes and claws into the hardened cytoplasm.

Eshere's experience in the matter was partially voyeuristic and partially appetizing. For every flaked scale that fell off of Tik Tik, every drop of drool that slunk off her mouth, and every discharge that fired off from her loins dropped into the slime's form like tiny divers splashing into the deep, only to dissolve near instantaneously to incorporate themselves into her.

At the same time, flashes of Tik Tik's thoughts and feelings bounced through Eshere's core, showing how much more riding atop Eshere delighted the kobold than the touch of her hand.

A second type of playing comes with tentacular delight, though it is not the method that Eshere likes the best. When TIk Tik first suggested it in their exercises and tutorials, the kobold said, "Take me like you took Purity that first night you truly became you."

Such a stinging declaration, and yet, the conglomeration of memories and personality that flowed within the sex jelly's core buzzed with excitement to return to such a primal state. It took all of her mental fortitude to stare the kobold down, her form vibrating with screaming desires as she forced out the words. "Are you sure?"

Tik Tik, dropping her robe to reveal her naked form, of course, told Eshere with much more certainty and ease, "but of course."

That was all it took for the being and scholar known as Eshere to erupt into a flailing mass of pseudopods, wrapping the kobold up by the wrists and ankles, hoisting her tail high, and invading every orifice she could safely stimulate in an orgiastic exultation of rampant feeding!

The screams from the kobold that day, though muffled, rang through the slime's mind for weeks to come, leaving her dreading, not desiring more.

This time, however, would be different. This time, Eshere is entirely in charge of herself. "Today, little kobold," she coos, pulling free from their shared kiss. We do what I say."

With Tik Tik fully pinned down, the slime straddles her, her liquid form drenching every fiber of cloth, weaving through each weave, gaining a total hold of each article.

The wizard's house garments are easy to remove, slipping them over the willingly lifted hands and down over the gently spread legs. "You always did like to dress for easy disrobing," Eshere teases.

The kobold's clothes lift away, tossed to the ground with an unceremonious splat, leaving the slime girl to straddle her teacher, her mistress.

"I love every moment of it," Tik Tik coos, shuddering under the cooling effect that Eshere's slime often has upon her scales.

And this time, that slime sinks in, drifting between the cracks of every scale the kobold has, popping out some of the old ones ready to fall, exfoliating the mage and leaving every last inch that the slime touches shining and clean.

And there is oh-so-much that she envelops.

Eshere leans over the kobold, her sheer size dwarfing the small spellcaster. Her hands are up, and she grabs onto the kobold's wrists, pinning them against the ground. They, too, slink between her scales as she stares deep into the waiting eyes of her beloved teacher, a sly smile on her face. "No matter how upset I am, I can't deny my nature, can I?"

Flecks of Eshere's cytoplasm drip down over Tik Tik's snout, running down from her eyes.

The kobold licks them up, and she presses her nose against the neck of her student and lover, a soft growl clucking from her throat. "You care so much about your humanity. That's what I love about you."

"Words, words, words." Eshere grumbles, her body rumbling. "They are manipulative, like any spellwork. There is only one way to know all that you feel."

Tik Tik's eyes hood at that statement, her voice a sultry purr. "Then, by all means, take the truth from me, my wonderful slimy student!"

With the kobold fully pinned down, the slime envelopes her, completely overtaking the wizard's form and weaving through every scaled groove of her body.

Tik Tik cannot move. She's immobilized, with only her snout and mouth free from the cooling green goo that encapsulates her form. Yet, she does, her legs wobbling, her arms jerking.

"E-eshere?" she squeaks, rolling onto her stomach. "Are you… are you controlling me?"

"Do you like Tik Tik?" she asks, her voice rumbling over the kobold's body. "I thought we'd test this out. After all, you don't think I could penetrate your subconscious, do you?"

Tik Tik hobbles to her feet, hunched over, head held low. She breathes heavily, her arms pinned behind her back. "I, ugh, had contingencies, I-"

Slime slips up from under the kobold's chin, plugging her mouth, pinning her tongue down, and washing it with a minty taste. "Now, now, what did I say about words?" Eshere asks. "Yes, yes, you'll need to trust mine, but you're the one who invited me here. If you didn't trust me, then there'd be no point. Right?"

"Mmm hmmm!" the slime-gimped kobold says, nodding her blinded head.

The slime's exertion pushes Tik Tik forward, stepping one foot forward and then the other, urged by the insistent tickling and prodding of tiny licking digits tantalizing her legs. The kobold yelps and hoots but steps forward upon each push lest the ticklish torture continues with a much more insistent rush.

They walk out of the library together, the bound form slamming their shoulder against the door and pushing it open through a few tackling steps out into the cold darkness of the stair hall.

Directly on the other side of the door is Quiquan, the blue-scaled dragon-like kobold apprenticed to Tik Tik. She yelps at the goopy amalgamation, falling onto her butt and dropping the books she was carrying.

The twinned being reaches Tik Tik's hand out, and Eshere's eyes, appearing over the shut kobolds, shake with an indiscernible sensation. "Sorry, there. Tik Tik didn't see you. She's a bit… tied up."

Tik Tik groans against the pun, her throat opening, allowing more fluid to pump in and out of her, making gross squishing and squeaking sounds.

Quiquan snaps up her books and points her snout upwards, bringing the tome to her chest. "What makes you think I wish to be a party to this… whatever it is!" she gestures between the twin face and the slime's core.

Tik Tik gasps through the pounding slime, her tongue wriggling, breaking free of the teasing. "Oh, it's not so strange!" she says. "I can see it now. Only the most intimate bonding can get Eshere deep into my psyche, enough to reach my, ha… aaah!"

Tik Tik falls to her knees, sitting back, her mouth open wide. Tiny tendrils of slime hook at her cheeks, spreading her jaws open, keeping her gagged as her tongue waggles around in wholly bound.

Eshere wrenches Tik Tik's hands behind her, keeping them bound now as they sit on the cold stone floor. The kobold twitches every so often, letting out only the simplest gurgle and groan, her tail sloshing about in a pool of slime. She quickly tried to lay flat, her claws scratching and playing with one another but unable to move, and her toes curling and uncurling as she's completely and totally immobilized. "Gaa…. Aah. nnn….

"Observe, if you will," says Eshere, her voice bubbling up from all over Tik Tik's body. It makes the kobold cough and shudder from the tip of her tail up her spine.

"This total encasement is not just with her arms and legs. She is not simply submerged, as you were when you fell into a clothes-rending slime."

Quiquan gulps, shuddering. "Tik Tik said she wouldn't tell that to anyone."

"She tells it to me, now," Eshere's essence says, her voice waves that ripple down Tik Tik's smooth underbelly. "I am her, in a way, and I know what she wants and needs.

"Gaah… haannnaaaa!"

Tik Tik's pathetic groans echo through the stairway as the slime enters her, pushing in and out. Each and every delving digit works in tandem with one another. With such precision and hook-up into Tik Tik's mind, Eshere's actions move so there is no lull in the delight.

"She must be stimulated and probed fully for me to unlock the deepest recesses of her mind!"

"HYAaaAAAAAA!" Tik Tik tenses up, her thrashing halted by the binding hold of Eshere, whose cytoplasm takes the form of hands clamping down on her shoulders, hips, and tummy.

The kobold collapses to the ground, her cheek splashing upon the bed of slime, twitching and shivering. From the pile emerges Eshere's head, looking straight toward Quiquan. An arm slips down Tik Tik's back and between Tik Tik's legs to stimulate her with a more tactile experience. "People always ask me for the answers to their questions, as if I'm not the amalgamation of memories and ideas stolen from others."

"Guahahaaa!? Aaah…!"

"I have problems that I can't handle too. Friends I want to help, but they don't want to let me in like this!" She speeds up, the sloshing liquids of kobold and slime mixing.

"I never asked to be a living library, no matter how much I fucking love it, and how much I love fucking—it's my nature, but it isn't who I am!"

"Geeeeeeeagaaaaah!"

Eshere splashes away, the kobold falling stomach-down on the cold floor. When Eshere reforms, she's focused, frowning, taking on the form of a short individual with a boyish face. She shakes her head, stumbling back, looking like a green reflection of Tik Tik, and when she clutches her chest, she grows, returning to her normal size, gritting her cytoplasmic teeth and pointing directly at Quiquan. "Quick, a paper, now, before I lose it!"

Quiquan, completely flabbergasted, slaps herself into attention and hands the book to the slime. "What is it, Eshere? What did you see?" she asks, panting.

Eshere need not feed off of Quiquan to know how the kobold feels, though it would be an easy thing to do with the pure slick want that she's obviously trying to hide. Instead, she scribbles notes furiously onto the margins of a work about the fundamentals of astromancy. "It's not what we assumed it was at all. We aren't dealing with some sort of lingering trauma here, or perhaps even some kind of curse or spell." She punctuates the last bit and returns the book to Quiquan to scoop up the kobold. "We're dealing with something much more direct. Why didn't I see it before?'

"Tell me, tell me!" the blue kobold chirps anxiously, her eyes turning to the words only to widen.

Tik Tik groans, her gaze unfocused. She stirs around and stares up at Eshere. "Uhhgh… w… what's happening?"

"I don't mean to alarm you," says the slime, petting her teacher gently over the brow ridge, "but I've just discovered that the source of your anguish is because someone is inducing sexual scenes upon your dreams while observing them."

"Ob… wait!" she scoots up in Eshere's hands. "You mean…?"

"Someone has invaded your dreams each night, Tik Tik, and that someone is the same person each time."

The following is a section of an analysis of Tik Tik's dreams, extracted from her subconscious by the application of sex jelly memory allocation, performed and recalled by Eshere, the wizard's scribe:

Many dreams have no solid foundation upon which they rest. They are a miasma of ideas, purged by the brain to make sense of the information that one had gathered throughout waking life. In converting short-term to long-term memory, animalia such as Tik Tik experience flashes of visions and the half-forgotten ideas of these experiences and live them while their body rests.

However, some claim there is more to the experience of dreams than just these simple abstractions. Credit goes to Tord Dragendreper for providing me with some reading material. On my trip to Tik Tik's tower, we discussed the theories of one Candolph Rarter and his explorations of what he considered the "other world" of dreams. Through our philosophical and arcane discussion, we hypothesized that if one's mind is willing and steady enough, one could leave one's physical host of memories and traverse to a place beyond the material realm.

I thought it a farfetched option then, but as I write to organize my thoughts about the whirlpool of imagery, I realize it was what I had been expecting this entire time.

As a different order of life, I do not normally experience dreams. I can only know what they were through applying my feeding method, and Tik Tik was more than generous in allowing me to plumb as deep as I was willing to help her. Because of this, such mysteries open up to me to cause me quite a sensation of sickness and confusion, but I shall try to parse them as best as I can here.

Imagine, dear reader, that the events here were scattered about. This is my attempt to make sense of them.

At the theoretical beginning of my quest, Tik Tik was in the caverns of her childhood home. There, she discovered a new tunnel she had yet to traverse. Excitement swelled within her as she stumbled upon the abandoned campsite where she had first begun her journey into magic.

This time, however, the tent was not empty, but a youthful-faced halfling lay in it and breathed softly in the throes of sleep.

She reached to wake him, but as she did, a long and slimy tendril latched to her arm, yanking her back. She was lifted bodily into the air, and standing around her were the phantom forms of previous lovers of many shapes and sizes. They pressed their warm bodies to her, hands trailing over her scales. Lips pressed to her neck and cheeks as sweet nothings in a language she couldn't understand flooded her mind.

She gasped at their touch, yearning for more, but the closest any got to her womanhood was teasing kisses from those who knelt in front of her. The ones standing behind her held her up tenderly as these other phantom lovers peppered her with pecks.

And as she desperately called out to them, she flicked her tail around, only for more of the hands to hold it still, their touches and their kisses moving to her underbelly, playfully providing her with the pleasure of a thousand pecks.

It was a tease of great degree, and she was powerless to stop it. She was unable to please herself. She was stuck there, facing the sleeping figure.

But the figure did not sleep for long, for he turned in his bed, facing her, and opened his eyes.

Just then, a tongue entered inside her. It should have been impossible because of all the lips playing at her thighs, but there it was, delving deep into her, flicking at her most sensitive regions, sending her higher and higher, and then—

Another dream involves her experiencing Tybalt, the Knight of Love. The two share a refreshing spa bath, with Tik Tik sitting on his lap. Excitedly, she straddles the knight's large and long phallus, wrapping her thighs around it. With the excitement caught in her chest, she strokes the long thing.

The other patrons glance in their direction as his breathing gets heavier, his hands wrapping around her tummy. It feels so good to think that length between her legs and to rub up against her womanhood. But soon, she will take it! Soon she will look up and see a fully clothed halfling standing at the edge of the bed, watching her, hands behind his back, and then—

—then, she lectures Quiquan. The blue kobold snaps at her, and Tik Tik wraps her in flowing ribbons.

But a moment later, it was Tik Tik, tied up and squirming, as Quiquan brought her fingers between the pink kobold's legs, cooing out sweet teases.

Lying still on the couch was the halfling, one eye-opening, yawning as Tik Tik's pleasure blossomed, sending her—

Nowhere.

Nowhere, but then everywhere. Even more flashes of scenes—as if reading Tik Tik's biography, these dreams are the same, and they all reflect experiences that she's had in the past. They are of her facing gods, writing long dissertations, exploring unknown lands, and meeting new friends.

Each time, he is there. Each time, that face penetrates my soul. Each time, the intensity increases as the two notice each other. And for a brief moment, the sex becomes almost too real to believe it is only a dream, only to lead to a moment of startling waking. She finds herself returning to her bed. Each time, it is cold and it is dark.

It was the same each time. The repetition of this figure leads me only to one conclusion—this halfling figure is some sort of dream traveler—a being capable, through either his own power or magical teaching, of traversing the realms of the unwaking world and arriving at Tik Tik's subconscious. I have no doubt because of the intimacy and familiarity of each dream.

Someone is probing Tik Tik's mind, and that halfling, dressed in a floppy cap with a ball at the end and striped wool fabric, does not belong.

I cannot say what he can be, for innumerable possibilities exist. My deepest fear, though, is that this invader is some outer being, much like the demon Zelbia, seeking ot arrest control of Tik Tik through these nightly tortures. There is only one course of action: to confront this intruder somehow on a much more conscious level, but I am no oneiromancer.

Until we can confront this fiend, I fear that Tik Tik will continue to experience nightly sex that leads to no resolution.

And to Tik Tik, there could be no greater hell.

Tik Tik lowers the manuscript, collapsing against her seat. "A dream-walking intruder, is it?" she asks, resting her chin upon her palm.

"It would appear as such," responds Eshere, sitting across from the reclined kobold. "There are many more examples I can provide of his being there. He appears with each micro-dream and twitch of your consciousness during each moment of recollection. And he watches you."

"Show me," the kobold chirps, scooting to perch herself on the edge of her seat. She squats, her hands placed on her knees.

Eshere's core thrums with warmth, and the slime shimmers. Her form undulates and shifts about in a pool of chaotic reconfiguration until the face that stares back at Tik Tik is the one Eshere has seen oh-so-many times.

The kobold narrows her gaze, gripping her knees. A soft growl rises from her throat as her eyes meet her intruder's.

"You recognize him, Mis Tik?" Eshere asks, her face snapping back to its preferred state.

"No," Tik Tik says, slipping back to her lounging state, her elbow upon the arm of the chair, her cheek upon her fist. Her tail flaps against the back of the seat as her lips curl into a snarl. "Oneiromancy," she mutters to herself.

"Yes," Eshere applies, her core glowing. "With the information that Tord Dragendreper provided me, that, too, is my conclusion."

"And what has your research concluded?" Tik Tik asks, shifting to the side of her seat, crossing one leg over the other.

"Many dreams are a connection to a realm outside our own. You should be safe if you sever the connection or build a wall between yourself and the outside dream space. A specialized charm may prove effective in curtailing these nighttime visitations.

Tik Tik hops off her seat, spinning around with wanton abandon. "No, I don't think that will do."

Eshere frowns, slipping off her own seat. "But, Miss Tik, you can't just let this continue. What if they intend to do something dangerous?"

"Indeed!" The kobold clicks, adjusting the ties of her collar. "Whomever or whatever this nightly visitor is, they could be something like a demon or something entirely different. Each is mysterious and has a means of being dealt with." She beckons Eshere forward and marches on her own, slightly stumbling. The kobold blinks and shakes her head, powering through and heading ot the stairway. "We must prepare, Eshere, because we will meet this intruder on the battlefield of dreams!"

"Wait a minute!" Eshere protests, slipping past Tik Tik and spreading into a wall looming over the kobold.

Despite the frowning features of the slime, the wizard is undeterred in her staredown. "Now, now, Eshere. What could you possibly be worried about now?"

Quivering before the kobold, Eshere gulps. "I'm worried, Miss Tik. If we're too hasty in acknowledging his existence and facing him directly, we will play into his hand… we'll fall into a trap he has set before you!"

Tik Tik smirks, tapping her nose. "Your worries cloud your judgment, Eshere, because remember, I was a trap smith by trade. When presented with a pesky intruder, I build a better trap."

"I…" The slime shrinks, standing out of the kobold's way. "I apologize, Miss Tik. I don't know what got over me."

With her hands behind her back, Tik Tik proceeds to the stairs, hopping down them one at a time. "I know one thing that bothers you, and it's something we've left unresolved until now. The answer to that conundrum is coming right up."

From the darker depths of the staircase come the footsteps of Quiquan. The kobold clutches a hefty tome in her chest, her mouth open as she takes long, labored breaths and gets within visual range of the two discussing scholars.

"The research you requested, my oh-so-terrific teacher."

"Why thank you, my oh-so-sarcastic student," Tik Tik says, flicking her wrist and summoning the book to her waiting palms.

"What is this?" Eshere asks, peering over Tik Tik's shoulder.

Quiquan bends over, hands on her knees, huffing and puffing. "It's the… tome that… Erin was reading… when she was… here." She finishes her exasperation with a big breath, eyes bulging and walling.

"Indeed," says Tik Tik, running over the text with a studious finger. "There are many things to learn in the tower, and I keep track of everyone who likes my collection of knowledge."

Another deep breath from Quiquan precedes her, adding to the conversation. "She spent most of her time reading up on this book and on this page," Quiquan noted, tapping the particular spot. "It's a discussion on fey creatures concerning circles of the moon."

"Fairies can become quite temperamental when it comes to the lunar phases," Tik Tik says, marking the page and handing the book to Eshere. "Perhaps, she has run afoul with some fey situation?"

Eshere scans over the pages. "Thank you, Tik Tik… truly." She slips her hand down the leaf, picking up the residual elements of her friend. "Why didn't she ask Melia or me for help?"

"Some mysteries cannot be solved without asking those involved to answer them," says Tik Tik, lacing her fingers together. She raises her arms up high, letting out a loud and luxurious sigh. That's why we need to trap our dream visitor. Now, then, shall we continue what we were doing?" She waves to Quiquan as she passes. "Be a dear and tell Asuka we need some sleepy tea."

The blue kobold quirks her brow as Tik Tik punctuates her order with a loud and long yawn, languidly slipping down the stairs. But she shakes her head and heads off in the opposite direction of Tik Tik and her slimy scribe.

Tik Tik and Eshere descend deeper past the ground floor and into the basement levels of Tik Tik's tower, where the cold stone becomes colder and the silence much more noticeable.

"The first thing we must do to set this trap is to ensure I have enough protection," The kobold says, standing in front of a massive and impressive vault door. Tik Tik stands tall before the remarkable mechanism, waving her hands in intricate details and practicing motions. This series of spells caused the runes engraved upon the vault to glow, and from the floor just in front of it emerges a cylindrical shape, curved and rounded. Tik Tik snickers as she approaches this device, undoing her belt and pulling her leggings down. When she steps out of the clothing, she grips it with her clawed toes and tosses it aside, standing bottomless before the pliant but stiff mechanism.

Tik Tik approaches it, holding her top up to expose herself before the device, and she rubs her lips up against the shaft. Sighing, she closes her eyes, engaging with the device with the practiced motions only she knows. It is a ritual between herself and her vault, stroking and then finally surrounding it, letting herself swallow the whole length, gyrating her hips clockwise, and then counter in a practiced and memorized pattern.

During this lovemaking to Tik Tik's locker, Eshere stands behind, one eye upon the ritual and another reading over the book's details. It makes sense, but there's something that's missing—something that Eshere can't quite—

Tik Tik's gasp rips the attention from the book to the kobold, and the wizard removes herself from the pole. It glows, retreating back into the mechanism with a final click.

After the unlocking spell, the impressive vault door flutters in many metal petals, revealing the large chamber of shelves beyond.

Tik Tik casually slips back into her leggings, one leg at a time. It proceeds to continue her discussion from whence she began. "With protection, we can accomplish much, indeed."

The two students of magic pass through the opened gateway, the slime picking up the residue of delight left by the apparatus and Tik Tik and the kobold hobbling and wobbling in her delighted step. The kobold hummed happily to herself.

The vault of Tik Tik is grand and filled with many treasures. As they march through its meticulously cataloged halls, the two encounter strange and intriguing things, especially as they move from the mundane to the more cursed additions.

They pass the Binding Sarcophagus, which Tik Tik had encountered in an old, forgotten tomb. When opened, it produces many linen wraps that immobilize its victim, sealing within its dark embrace a new occupant for eternity.

They pass Vaspaja's skull, the mortal remains of a powerful necromancer. It rests within a glass case with sealing magic prepared all around it. Even so, as Tik Tik passes it, the kobold can catch a rueful stare of blue fire from the eyes of the deceased wasp.

Eshere always keeps a wide berth from this and many other dangerous things.

Soon, Tik Tik arrives at the object of her desire. She hops up on her toes and grips the edge of a folded cloth, pulling it from its spot on the shelf and flourishing the shimmering sheet before wrapping herself up in it, draping it as a cowl over her features.

Eshere looks at the intricate, netted pattern, eyes sparkling in its reflection. "That's from the insect kingdoms, isn't it?"

Tik Tik pokes her snout and her eyes out from under the cowl. "Yes, indeed," She replies, snuggling it close. "It's quite a special blanket, too. It catches the good feelings and the spirits in dreams and keeps them nice and warm within its folds."

The slime slips behind the kobold, noting the design of the blanket. "You know, Miss Tik," she points out. "If you wished to prevent bad dreams in the past, you could have used this."

Tik Tik tightens her grip on the sheet, glancing downward. "Yeah, you're right, but I can't hide from all danger, can I?"

The slime blinks.

"If I had kept myself safe in my study, then I would never meet new friends. If I keep myself from traveling in my dreams, I can never find new challenges to overcome."

If a slime could gulp, Eshere certainly would as the lump in her cytoplasm forms, fighting herself to say the following words. "You would rather have adversity?"

"Than to exist in boredom," Tik Tik finishes, lumping up the sheet and beginning her trek back through the vault. "Besides, if I didn't know someone was trying to access my dreams before, I wouldn't be able to trap him now, right? Let's collect some of these other items and get moving."

She doesn't say why she had suddenly gotten more antsy after picking up the cape, but she did walk fast past her former enemy's skull, not saying out loud that the constant, undead stare of the cursed object was getting to her.

But after leaving the vault, Tik Tik and her companion make their way towards one of Tik Tik's many bedrooms. This one harkens back to her old home at the Dragon's Heir, looking quite natural, with a cave-like structure to the stone. Her bed resembles a series of pillows and blankets, ranging from mossy to fluffy.

Quiquan is already there, spreading salt around the bedding in an unbroken circle, grumbling as she does. Asuka is aside, burning incense and praying, and old Seppel stands as tall as his old bones cane let him, holding some tea for his lady Tik Tik.

Tik Tik dives into her snuggle pile, lies back, and sighs, "Now, this is a trap."

Eshere slurps to the side, standing away from the three kobolds doing their work. "It seems you have everyone accounted for."

Tik Tik props herself up, chuckling softly. "Oh, no, not at all. I'm not done with you. You're joining me tonight; together, we'll snuggle and cuddle. Then, when I fall asleep, you shall help me enter a lucid dream."

"Lucid dreaming?" Eshere asks Tik Tik, slurping closer toward her kobold teacher, only just barely touching the bedding.

"Yep, yep!" Tik Tik says, a sleepy smile on her face. She slurps up some of her soothing tea, smacking her lips. "Using you as a focal point, I shall realize that I am dreaming, and when that happens, we can both recite the spell together."

"You realize I cannot enter the dream with you. Such a feat is impossible."

"No, but you can provide me the stimulus needed to anchor myself here, and as you snack on my night sweats, I'm sure you'll be able to see and feel exactly what I deal with."

"That's quite clever," Eshere says. "Are you sure it will work?"

"Climb on in and find out."

The slime does as she's told, becoming for the kobold like another blanket, nestling underneath the magic sheet from the Insect Kingdoms.

It doesn't take long for Tik Tik to drift off. Once she does, her apprentices disperse to their other duties, leaving the mistress and the slime alone in another intimate embrace.

Tik Tik stirs and mumbles in her sleep, and Eshere squeezes her tight—a security slime in these tough times. Gently, the green girl's cytoplasm pulses over Tik Tik, lulling her back into comfort and relaxation. As the kobold stated, Eshere begins to sense the world of dreams within Tik Tik's mind.

Tik Tik floats within the ether of her mind. Impulses from her day disappear from short-term memory to latch into the long term. She drifts peacefully along that ethereal sea for a time. However, as her mind draws upon the knowledge of her nighttime visitor, she finds herself coming to renewed awareness, landing with a soft thud against the bedding she left behind in the waking world.

The kobold stands with purpose, all the mundaneness of actual existence missing as she moves to check the sigils and traps. Nothing had broken through her protections, at least in this subconscious version of her home.

That doesn't mean that nothing is here.

And that nothing gives way to the clacking of armored legs, skittering quickly but deliberately, overshadowing the kobold as she stands among her cushions.

She doesn't dare turn to see her new visitor but feels the warmth and comfort that she provides. Long, spindly, and articulate fingers stroke at Tik Tik's underbelly before lifting her up. Then, the visitor's legs weave an intricate web, placing the kobold upon it, embracing and protecting her.

In an instant, the creature vanishes, her work done.

Tik Tik lies upon the newly finished sheet, its length spreading throughout the plane. It is a canvas of safety in the uncertainty of sleep.

And Tik Tik inches upon it, her tail swishing and her face low, sniffing, growling, crawling, and climbing—freed from the physical web.

Humanoid figures appear around her, first in a swirling mist and then in the form of many insects. One by one, ladybugs, bees, butterflies, and mantises rest their weary heads upon the bed, each reaching forward to caress, kiss, tickle, and embrace.

The kobold thrashes about, sighing in delight as each of these memories of her journey home or newly formed creations of her mind grant her a delightful time. Her built-up frustration rises and rises, soon to erupt in an orgasm.

But a subtle vibration rocks the web just as Tik Tik is about to release. The kobold blinks and stares at the undefined sky, her vision cloudy in this strange realm. Realizing the oddity of it all and feeling Eshere's signal makes her smile.

She leaps to her belly and skitters across the webbing, grabbing the blanket in both hands. With her dreamer's strength, she hurls it ahead of her, shouting, "Gotcha!"

With a frightened yelp, a once-invisible figure falls to the floor. The culprit is covered in the web-like sheet, flopping and fighting against the layers of the dream-weave's non-Euclidean form.

Tik Tik stands, hands on her hips, tilting her head and watching the stranger struggle against the miles of blankets until she is bored enough to snap her fingers and lift the sheet up and off her quarry.

The halfling mage sits cowered in the corner, covering his face, frozen underneath the naked kobold above him.

"So, this is the pervert that's been sneaking a peek into my dreams?" Tik Tik asks, stepping forward toward him, leaning in, her hands on her hips. "And just who are you, hm?"

The oneiromancer lowers his arms, revealing a soft, boyish face with shoulder-length curly hair. His amber eyes stare toward Tik Tik, and his pouty lips quiver. On his head, he wears a soft bent cap complete with a pom on the tip. Over his body, he wears a loose tunic and trousers of soft fabric. When he opens his mouth, only soft gasps emerge.

"Someone who likes pajamas, it seems," Tik Tik responds to herself, glancing with narrowed eyes. "So, you going to answer me?"

"I… I…" The halfling scoots back, only for his pants to catch on the much-too-sticky floor, yanking down a round his butt and showing off the peach fuzz of pubes and a nice shot of dick root.

"Oh, poor boy," Tik Tik snickers, stroking her chin and caressing her elbow. "Don't you realize that when you come here to mess with me, you're in my dreams?"

He gulps, struggling to pull up his pants, wriggling back into position, only to find his sleeves stuck to the floor.

"What an unfortunate situation you're in," Tik Tik says, stepping forward, gripping his cheeks and squeezing, and turning him to face her. Now, tell me, who am I punishing?"

Her captive caster gasps, pushing and pulling, turning his head away, but she focuses his gaze squarely upon her. "Oh no, you don't. You're not getting any escape until I'm done with you!"

“Reh-Ramil!" He gasps. “Muh-my name is Ramil!"

"Well, then, Rammy," Tik Tik says, tongue running along her snout. "What exactly are you after, watching me all this time?"

Ramil yanks his arm free, clasping both in front of his face in supplication, pinning his forehead to his fingers. "Please, oh great mage! Have mercy on me! I was only studying sweet sex in my dreams for the power of nightly orgasm. I collected and used your climaxes!"

"You stole my orgasms!?" Tik Tik growls, lifting him with one arm, making him dangle. "Well, you know what that means, don't you, Rammy?"

Ramil's cheeks squish together in Tik Tik's grasp, his face only puckering as he tries to respond.

Tik Tik drops him, letting him stumble to his feet. "It means you owe me some orgasms, and you're going to come to my place, and you're going to give them to me." Her demand is punctuated by a slow and sensual laugh, and the world disappears around her save for her eyes, which she uses to stare deep into Ramil's soul.

"Or next time," her voice echoes through the nothingness surrounding him. I'll ensure you experience nightly dreams; none of them will be dry.

It took Ramil a week to arrive at the tower. After all, wizards are busy sorts, and he and Tik Tik needed to decipher the messages within the dreamscape to find each other in the waking world.

"I was worried he'd be on an entirely different planet or an alternate universe," Tik Tik muses to Eshere, sipping some of her soothing tea. "After all, when one travels the dreamscape, one can find so many alien things beyond their comprehension."

"Do you suppose alien communication is possible, Miss Tik?" Eshere asks. "And what would you do if Ramil was from some foreign world?"

"That would be another hurdle," she muses. "After all, the theory of that sort of travel is there. I just need the means of means to make it real."

"I can't imagine it is quite practical. Aren't you worried you don't have the time to make it a reality?"

Tik Tik lowers her cup, looking down into the dregs, she takes a breath, but her words are interrupted when Asuka arrives.

"Your guest has arrived," she says, bowing gently to Tik Tik. "He is waiting for you in your laboratory bedroom."

Tik Tik's thoughtfulness ended as she placed her tea down and hopped off, gesturing to her slimy friend, "Come, Eshere. I want you to see everything."

The room has the same comfort and protection as the trapped bed. This time, however, the fly in Tik Tik's web is in the waking world, examining the inscribed sigils and the artifacts used to ensnare him.

"Ramil," says Tik Tik, her hands spread wide. "It's so lovely to see you!" She immediately hugs the halfling.

The poor, short man blushes heavily at the warmth, his wide eyes turning toward Eshere.

"Don't worry about me," The slime says, slurping back to the corner of the room. "I'm merely here to observe and record for educational purposes.

"Yep, yep!" Tik Tik responds, patting his back. "After all, I can't take notes when I'm asleep.

Ramil chuckles, adjusting his soft collar. "No, I suppose you cannot."

Tik Tik nods and lifts her shirt over her head, shutting the halfling up. She flutters her eyes as she steps out of her leggings and removes the rest of her clothing. "What's wrong? You promised me sex like I've never had before. You surprised I want it right away?"

"Su-surely, you'd need to prepare and-"

Tik Tik's yawn is large and toothy, her long tongue wiggling comedically. When she snaps her mouth shut, she wiggles and squirms, her feet buried in the fold in the sheets, and her eyes closed. "I already took so many sleepy spells and herbs. Of course, I'm ready for a nap, but are you ready?"

Ramil gulps and sits back beside Tik Tik, placing a hand on her forehead. "Well, it's an honor to show you the beauty of somnophilia, and it is an honor to be able to have your body as your mind travels to greater lands."

Tik Tik snickers, her tail hooking behind the soft-clothed halfling and tickling at his back. "Have fun with my body, cutie pie," she teases before she sighs, lying there, her breath coming steady and deep.

Once she drifts off, Ramil glances at Eshere before plucking off his nightcap and placing it aside. Next, he lifted his shirt quickly enough and wiggles out of his pants, his clothing lost among the bed sheets. He slips his hand between Tik Tik's knees, and another rests on her head, rolling her onto her back.

The wizard sighs, her head rolling to the side of her underbelly is exposed.

Tik Tik snorts and shudders, her fingers twitching and her toes curling.

"Ah, so you're having another wonderful dream, I see," Ramil chuckles. He leans in, pressing a kiss to her upper thigh.

Tik Tik's knee pushes inward but then spreads, another kiss loosening her up as Ramil gets closer and closer to her.

He works up her leg, hands stroking up and down along her thigh, shuddering sighs rising up from both her and him as he tends her body.

His soft lips brush against her nethers, pressing and slurping.

Eshere shuffles silently, her eyes intent on the two, her pen scribbling quickly to write the purplest of prose.

Ramil's gentle hand keeps Tik Tik from turning to her side or leaving the position he wants her in. Her unconscious form makes her more malleable than her willful and feisty nature.

His lips press against to her womb and up along her underbelly, all while his fingers continue to squish and swish up within her. This makes her groan and stir, but he soon presses his chest against her body, keeping her pinned down as his kisses pepper up and down her body.

What did Tik Tik dream during her sensuous session with the somnambulism specialist? For a while, Ramil slowly slides into her slick scaly body, which accepts his shaft, her sleeping mind traversing the realm of dreams.

And within that land, a similar scenario plays out.

This is not by accident, of course. The two meticulously set the stage, the sexual spells they placed upon each other and their sheets activating the triggers that made Tik Tik's dreams so very, very special.

Of course, this dream scene involves Ramil sitting on Tik Tik's mattress, the kobold lying under him, unconscious, stirring as she feels the things he feels in the waking world.

As he slips his hands over her underbelly, she feels that. She pecks her lips upon that delighted snout when he lowers his mouth to kiss her nose. When he strokes her horn, she feels the rough ridges of the horns through the palm of smooth skin. When shocks of warm delight pulse up around his cock and through his spine, it is she who sighs and gasps, thrashing about in rapturous joy.

Sometimes, the rude would tell someone to go fuck themselves, but do they truly know how wonderful of a feeling such a thing is? One knows what would please oneself the most, and feeling how the partner does those things to one's body is an experience like no other. Undoubtedly, communication between two lovers on such an intimate level makes even the wildest of dreams come true.

But how wild is this dream, really? Watching it in reality would make it seem so simple and mechanical. Yet, the sounds of the happy huffing and the sweat that pearls on the back of the halfling as he pumps the kobold under him are stunning. The arching of the kobold's back and the squeaks in her sleep are intoxicating.

Inside the mindscape, it is even more incredible. For the dream version of this dance, Ramil lifts Tik Tik, spinning her around effortlessly, and he rocks her body on top of him as if he has the strength to move mountains. His arms wrap around her, his lips kissing upon her neck, and his hips thrust upward, each thrust pushing deeper and more thoroughly than the last.

Tik Tik cannot control herself—not for long, anyway. Her thrashing and her moaning inside of the dream translates outside, where she shudders, and her body convulses around the cock. While she has three orgasms in the waking world, the spell that holds her to her rest prevents her from springing to wakefulness, despite each of those violent outbursts of moaning delight.

Inside Tik Tik's sleeping body, Ramil climaxes, filling her and continuing his pleasures without needing rest. She doesn't need rest either.

They switch positions in the realm of sleep. Dream-Ramil, piloted subconsciously by Tik Tik, spurred on by the rhythmic thrusting of the real-like Tik Tik, rolls the kobold onto her belly. Even in her dream, she is so pliable.

With her underbelly pressed upon the warmed sheets, she seeks to rest her cheek upon her crossed arms, providing her support. Her tail lazily wraps around his waist.

Dream-Ramil shudders, Tik Tik placing one hand upon Dream-Tik Tik's back, slipping his hand up and down that thick, scaley thing. He leans in, kissing her cheek before he sets off to move to the next stage.

Two hands slip to her shoulders, then down over her back and along her scaled sides. Dream-Ramil presses his palms upon her, urging her to move.

And she moves, lifting her hips as his hands seek the crevice of her joints, pressing to her thighs, spreading her legs apart just enough that she can support herself still without much effort.

Dream-Tik's head rests, sighing happily as he holds him in a hook-tailed embrace.

Dream-Ramil has no refractory period, which his waking self has to accommodate. Instead, his cock is thick and ready, springing forth from the curly bush between his legs. He slides his hands down over his chest and between his legs, brushing over that tangled matte of hair and pushing that shaft down. It presses to the scaley skin of Dream-Tik, head rubbing against that textured surface, drawing a cum stain along the cheek.

And Dream-Ramil watches, feeling, seeing, and fully experiencing the convulsions of Dream-Tik.

And just as her waking self groans in sleepy delight, Dream-Ramil pushes forward, accepting the warm, quivering embrace of kobold sex once more.

A wizard of erotic lore can experience both the feelings of penetration and penetration through various means, but to experience both at once is a transcendental experience. That is why she must taste it in many different ways. This dog-like position, this bestial pounding, is of such primal joy.

Dream-Ramil squats before Tik Tik, legs straddling her, cock slipping in the slippery hole, grasping onto her tail for dear life as that cock slicks so easily within her. He pounds that kobold pussy, the sounds of slapping heard all throughout the dream world, his groans echoing the sounds that Tik Tik makes in the waking experience and the pathetic whimpers of the waking oneiromancer, watched diligently by the slime-scribe.

His dreamy doppelganger leans forward, bending and stretching Dream-Tik's tail, pressing his back against her body, his mouth by her ear as he gives hump after tired hump against her hole.

Of course, someone would have such entranced fun while they are cock deep in Tik Tik. She's Tik Tik!

Dream Tik and real Tik groan and squirm against the covers, both so passive in the exchange. Both subconsciously enjoy the wanton expulsion of delight shared by Ramil.

And as her climax reaches her once more, shivering, shuddering, and convulsing, Dream-Ramil makes his next release, shooting warm ephemera into the conceptual kobold's id.

Outside, Ramil pulls out, his body drenched. He grabs onto his knees and takes a few breaths. His cock glistens, rock hard and ready to finally blow, but he closes his eyes, thinking of far-off things and concepts; all the while, Tik Tik shifts and sighs, snuggling thoughtfully on her trip through orgasm island.

"You still owe her," Eshere notes, her notepad in hand."

Ramil blushes, gripping his knees. "I… I know."

"How many more orgasms did you deny her before?"

He glares at her, takes a breath, and then lowers himself down, spreading the kobold's legs and rolling out his halfling tongue, tasting that savory sweetness that he had been balls deep in only a moment before. Carefully, he keeps his own hips up in the air, exposed but keeping his sensitive shaft from slipping along the sheets, a serious attempt to stall the spilling of his seed in her sleep.

Within the dream, Dream-Tik becomes more active than the Tik Tik of the realm of reality. Her eyes flicker open, and she pulls herself from Dream-Ramil. Her tail grips his neck tightly,, tossing him to his side.

Dream-Ramil rolls onto his back, spreading his legs, knowing fully what the kobold intends for him.

And she does exactly as she plans, crawling up to him, standing on the soft mattress, and grabbing each leg. She rolls the dream halfling to his back, pushing those legs up against his stomach and chest, letting that thick and powerful cock poke up between his legs.

What a sexy creature Tik Tik is. Anyone would be lucky to have her dominate them, and now, in the world of dreams, Tik Tik herself can experience such joys.

The sleep-incarnation of Tik Tik lowers herself, sitting on that rod, swallowing it up, and staring down so sultrily at his eyes.

The Amazon that is Tik Tik rolls her hips over that cock, and both phallus and canal enjoy the sensations of moving and bending and filling and rubbing. Her mouth opens slightly in the waking world, letting out those delightful coos, all while, the actual Ramil laps up around her pussy, up and down the lips, fluttering and flickering and then plunging and delving.

Her hips rise in the waking world just as they roll and rub in the dreaming. The sleep-generated halfling groans just as the kobold in the real world sighs. He again shoots up deep inside Tik Tik just as Tik Tik spills her delight all over the waiting lips and chin of the real-world halfling.

Domination gives way to submission as Dream-Ramil springs up with unprecedented strength, pushing Tik Tik to the ground, her lower body bent toward her upper body in such a display of flexibility. Dream-Ramil grabs one leg and then the other, hooking them under his arms as he stands up, placing his cock upon her pussy.

Outside, Ramil wipes his mouth off and sits up once more, positioning himself, taking a deep breath, and then entering her again. He grits his teeth, groaning with involuntary elation, even as his dream-self slams mercilessly into the kobold, spreading her out with gravitational pounding, a hammer of impressive speed and power deep enough into her sex to penetrate deep into her somnambulist womb!

It is perfection. It is a delight like no other, experiencing the physical effects that rock within Tik Tik in the real world and converting and amplifying within the realm of sleep!

Who would have thought that Tik Tik, one who wishes to be awake during all sorts of experiences, would find so much fun while her body was unconscious?

Perhaps she wouldn't be asleep for so much action if not for the spells surrounding her. Either way, this magical experience is a wonder that only the most specialized wizards can provide.

She pities the fools who use their magic for only the most polite of spells.

To maintain this magical spell and to fuck someone at the same time shows the supreme mastery that Ramil has not voiced to his partner.

And Tik Tik takes to the dream-halving form, filling the dream-kobold with an impressive rod larger than the one owned by his waking self but imparting upon the sleeper the same delights to be had while conscious.

It could be related to both of them taking the male lead in the waking and dreaming worlds, or it could be a more profound connection. In either case, both kobold and halfling cry out in rapturous approval, sounds that, if listened to by an impartial observer, would seem so pathetic and silly, but to be amid the throes of passion means that those are the triumphant cries of victory through the climax.

In the dream world, all thoughts and forms melt away in an explosion of color. In contrast, in the real waking world, that color is a pearly white, oozing from the crevices of the short creature whose eyes flick open as she stretches and grabs and clings to reality, her eyes matching his own.

And he collapses as a bundle of sweat and nerves, no doubt from all the work he had to put himself through to please the master mage.

For both spell casters, it is a confusing pile of happiness upon which they lie.

And that is one that Eshere is tasked with untangling.

So, she climbs upon the bed to join them, blanketing the two and cooling them down with her expanded, slimy form.

For Tik Tii, it is business as usual.

For Ramil, there is a bit more squirming and squealing. Nothing that a little kiss from the slimy scribe can't help but put his mind at ease.

And while the two of them rest, Eshere sups, and as she sups, she writes—writing all the many delightful memories, feelings, and emotions into something that the sober and rested duo can read, understand, and appreciate. Perhaps they could even find the ability to enjoy their actions more lewdly, finding climax once again in the memories and the bardic delight that comes with a fictional embellishment of such wondrous affairs.

Unfortunately, the initial analysis of Tik Tik's state proves her hypothesis untrue. One cannot get railed in the sheets while also getting a good night's rest, whether in this world or the feylike mysteries of the land of Nod.

Eshere, having supped her fill of Tik Tik and Ramil and compiled the full extent of their glorious sleeping lovemaking, slurps off of the two lovers. The notes could be more explicit and make sense for a waking mind. Editing will have to come later.

As the slime sits on the edge of the bed, she deciphers the reeling emotions of a second series of sexual experiences, much more involved than the unconscious lovemaking she had witnessed earlier.

While Eshere Ruminates on her newly acquired memories and emotions, Ramil crawls up next to her, sitting on the edge of the mattress.

His first action is to slide a pillow onto his lap. His second is to rub the skin on his arm, which is smoothened by the exfoliating skill of Eshere's acidic cytoplasm.

He leans over to observe the book, the notes penned in the green gel that is that same slime stuff that once covered him-ejected from Eshere's body by the magic pen that Tik Tik had gifted her what felt like a lifetime ago.

"You have a scholar's hand," he offers, breaking the silence.

"And you have a pervert's mind," she replies, closing her book. She turns to face the small man, puffing her metaphorical cheeks and furrowing her facsimile of brows. "What gave you the right to invade Tik Tik's dreams like you did?"

Ramil shrinks, tilting his modesty pillow to wrap it around his whole body, half-burying his face against it. "Please, you must understand me! I am a dreamscape traveler! I seek to traverse the realm beyond the physical! On my journeys, I sensed that Tik Tik would also wish for a means to access and explore the world of sleep."

The slime leans forward, applying pressure to the pillow. "Instead of inviting Tik Tik to learn like a sensible man, you flamed her desire and gave her no release. You stole her orgasms! For sick thrills?"

He sighs, loosening his grip slightly. "Perhaps there was a bit of indulgence on my part," he says. "You see, the climax of a dreaming dragon is so difficult to find, let alone take. I thought hers might be good enough."

"I've seen your mind," she reminds him, slipping the hand to press an accusatory finger upon his forehead. "I know your thoughts and your desires. You may be trying to lie to me, but you are lying to yourself."

His hands shoot under the pillow and between his legs, his blush burning brighter than before.

Eshere pauses a moment, her mouth partially agape at the sight. She breaks the spell of adorableness and continues prodding his forehead. "Be thankful it was someone as open and as accepting as Tik Tik you bothered. Another who didn't match your freak would not reciprocate. They would retaliate."

The slime slips away, pushing herself up to her respite.

"There aren't many of us, you know," he says, breaking his silence.

Eshere stops, glancing over her shoulder, her core thrumming.

Ramil wraps his arms around his legs, pressing his knees to his chest. "Eromancers, I mean. Even though erotic magic is an ancient tradition, there is so little knowledge about its application and study. And fewer places in the world would deem it an appropriate target for study. Surely, magic is powerful, and I wished to study it firsthand, but," He takes a deep breath, twiddling his toes. "I wanted to prove my worth to such a powerful and beautiful mage. I wanted her to notice me as an equal and colleague."

During his heartfelt admission, the sheets around him shift as the figure resting within them gets to her knees behind him. She wraps her arms around his tummy and pulls him in against her flat underbelly.

"Beautiful, am I?" Tik Tik purrs to him. "Come back to bed, Ramil, and tell me about it."

As the two cuddle in another session of beautiful lovemaking, awake this time, Eshere takes a deep breath and slips off to her own, for there are many things that she must plan for herself.

* * *

Once home, Eshere finds her homework and session notes, diligently provided by her friends. She selects first to work upon the mysteries of the mind, to understand the nuances of that electrically charged slab of meat that houses the essence of an animal's soul. Perhaps it is through there that she can finally understand her friends.

When Libi returns from her work that evening, smelling of baked goods and coffee, she pecks Eshere upon a contemplative cheek. She sits beside the slime and glances over the notes.

"Tik Tik, find any way to help?" she asks.

"She's not exactly one to focus on any one thing for long," the slime girl admits, "But I think we have some course of action. We'll have to confront Erin, but we'll have to do so in a particular way, I'd imagine." She sighed, closed her notes, and looked towards her roommate. "It is common among sapients not to wish to make things worse when trying to improve things but to fail. Do you think I've made things better for myself… for you?"

Libi smirks and stands up, holding onto a slimy arm. "I don't know about that," she says, But I know you could enjoy giving me a long bath."

With a smile and a nod, the slime follows her roommate. "Yes, I wouldn't dream of anything else right now."