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Thirty seconds ago it had looked like an oversized puddle of spilled ink.

Now... well, it was man-shaped all right... six-eyed and tubby, with a long, oozing tail... looming in front of him in the foyer of the complex's containment unit.

Gregory the anthro lion had wanted to run at first. He really had. His instincts had tried to push him right back out of the room... but he had found the door behind him locked, and that had triggered even more fear. There was no way past the creature, which had begun very slowly approaching him, not even using its feet for proper locomotion as it did. It rather preferred to glide sluglike with its tail, and only occasionally make a show of stepping off the ground with the claw-like toes.

Fear had led to panting breaths and frantically looking around. A sweet scent had filled his nostrils, some chemical he hadn't ever smelled before, probably part of the creature's own body. He had roared for it to stay away -- pressed back against the high-tech door, hammered on the emergency release to no avail.

Breathing, faster and faster. The sweetness, slowly deepening and making his head hurt.

The creature was still approaching with all the patience of a glacier. It had covered only five meters since he entered the room, but as it had been standing right in front of the entrance to the only corridor leading further into the containment floor, this had been of little solace.

Now, it was only about ten meters away.

Greg was only the janitor. He hadn't been prepared for anything like this. He was a humble person, pleased to have a job at a facility that offered decent benefits even to the cleaning staff. The relative importance of the job had made him feel much more secure about the decision to use his university training in biochem to get a career cleaning up simple laboratory messes.

This was out of his league. There had been no warning. Whatever had happened, the security systems were down, and he had no idea what the creature should've been capable of. All of that stuff was Classified with a capital C and a threat of death.

His instincts had been telling him to run, but now that there was a seeming chance to get around the creature, he found it hard to remember where or why he should be running. His knees had been... shaky, but now they were losing that shakiness.

An uncanny peace and placidity was warming its way through his body, at odds with the terror he still knew he should be feeling right now. Not just peace, but almost a lethargy. He felt he needed to look at the creature and wait for it to make its move... after all, it was so slow that he could easily dodge it. He would wait for it to get closer, and then...

He didn't remember what to do after "and then," but that didn't stop him following through with the half-formed plan.

Now, the surface of the creature's body began to shine with shifting, mystifying patterns as it approached. These patterns were geometries of light that shouldn't have been possible from a smooth surface. Hard-angled shapes like the diamonds on playing cards, or the rigidity of a checkerboard. They folded upon themselves, the shapes fleeting among the creature's many small undulations. Its smooth surface whipped and flowed, quickly replacing each pattern of light with a new one the lion had never seen previously. There were so many, each somehow building upon the last in the wordless message the creature seemed to be trying to communicate to him.

Along with the lights, the sweet smell grew so intense that it became engrossing. Now it was just like the kitchen of a bakery, or at least what the lion imagined one must smell like. He could imagine it now: rolling pins, cutting boards, black shiny goo-dough... The smell had a doughy, moist undertone with that sugary, inescapable main flavor.

It was so strong he could nearly taste it on his tongue already.

More impulses rose and began to compel him: he wanted to taste it. He had to taste it. It was important.

He barely flinched as the creature glided within arm's reach, and peacefully offered him a taste. It was a taste in the form of an outstretched finger, dripping of the black, nose-alluring beauty of the beast...

The finger, too, glowed with subtle shapes. The whole surface of the creature warmly glistened. Something about the pattern excited the lion, like the flashing of lights at a festival. A festival with so much good food... so much good for taking into oneself and then resting, full and content while one got absorbed...

He didn't notice his slipping logic as his eyelids drooped and he focused more on the smell. The lights were kind of... overwhelming, really. He just wanted the scent now, and maybe the taste. This was the nicest monster he could've imagined, offering such a sweet-flavored sample of itself for licking.

The lion took a lick, catching a drip, and then gradually slurped the hanging bit of goo into his maw like it was a string of fine licorice. So thick and gooey, it warmed his tongue and coated the insides of his maw. It even made a bit of gingivitis he'd been experiencing feel better, as if the goo had simply fixed the inflamed gums upon contact...

The weakness in Greg's knees returned, but this time it was to kneel in passive appreciation of the monster's body. He began nuzzling along its thighs, working the goo into his mane and feeling it tug and wriggle, slinking its way down the threads of his fur.

Such a good gooey monster... it was terrible that the scientists were keeping it locked up in here.

Somehow, too, it seemed to talk to him as the moments passed. Not in words, and not even in the glinting lights anymore... but something more direct. The goo in his mane and maw were finding each other, slowly massaging themselves into his body, into his nerves... giving the monster a channel of communicating with him directly, like two brains hooking up to share their connections.

The monster came to understand that many of Greg's instinctual needs had not been satisfied. This was, indeed, the very first set of things the creature "asked" about. Greg responded with arousal, and began nuzzling helplessly at the creature's blank groin.

The creature knew what he needed, and so it fashioned it for him: a fat, doughy cock formed and pushed forward, along with the balls to match. Greg was so excited, tenting in his pants and forgetting about any worries of being embarrassed by the security cameras. He would've unzipped his tenting fly, but within moments he found the creature already doing that for him: gooping up against his pants and digesting the front of them to let his member swell free and become the playmate of one of the goo-beast's melty footclaws. The toes spread and oozed around the length, coaxing at it while the creature shuffled forward in such a way as to demand a good sucking in exchange.

Greg, gay to the bone and long ashamed of the fact in his society, took that dick in his mouth like it was the last one in the universe and gave it every sensual bit of love his maw could muster. The rough lion tongue slurped over its surface, and the erectile swells of excess goo would sometimes slough off and coat the tongue for his efforts. Each time it did, he would eagerly swallow, feeling excited for more and more of the tasty substance to enter his body. He moaned as the footclaw teased his leonine shaft and sack... and shuddered as a gooey bit of liquid worked its way into the tip of his shaft, setting every nerve alight with a kind of pleasure he had never experienced before. He began to thrust against the foot as more of the ooze slipped inside... deeper, into the inner secrets of his groin.

The creature also shuddered and made a glorping sound as its body seemed to lose some of its consistency and tension. The pudgy abdomen jiggled like gelatin as the creature thrust faster and started to emit a louder gurgling from its mouth.

Greg needed it. He needed for the creature to cum... he could feel its needs rising with his own, as if they were one shared need.

The lion slurped, and sucked, and drank. He lifted his hands and kneaded into the heavy dough of the balls.

Something rose sharply within Greg: a feeling of fullness and closeness to climax. He was there at the edge, and now the foot was pushing him over...

He quaked with a body-wide spasm of bliss that left him feeling tingly and hot and strange, but he did not emit any seed. Something within his plumbing moved, true, but he couldn't... quite...

He must make the monster cum.

He knew this was his destiny now. Nothing else, not even his own stimulation, mattered.

Greg suckled and lick and rubbed. His body quaked again as the ongoing stimulation from the foot caused whatever fuzzy dry orgasm had just occurred to repeat itself.

Then, a rumbling glorp-roar warned of the monster's moment of truth.

The gooey cock wasn't really any stiffer than before, but it didn't matter: Greg closed his maw around it and swayed his tail, murmuring in bliss as milliliter after milliliter of liquid lust poured into his throat. The organ was humming with activity, new goo shuffling down made the surface bulge while old goo got shuffled back out from beneath, in simulation of a cock in the throes of ejaculation... but it was a thinner liquid from within the creature's body that was now piping its way down the lion's gullet. A smooth, cleansing, perfect liquid... a sample of the very heart-blood of what made this creature so adaptable.

Greg felt an ecstasy indescribable. He felt as if he was now the best, most victorious being in existence. He felt his nerves burn with passion, happiness, desire...

_His body spasmed again, but he did not cum. _

But the creature's groaning, gurgling ejaculation continued... and the lion's belly began to stretch beyond its usual bounds. It didn't hurt, but it was sure doing a number on his tight work shirt. The creature sensed this and digested that, too, away with a mere sweep of its foot. The synthetic fibers were... truly as if nothing, to the beast. No challenge at all.

The organic form, on the other hand... it needed a little more time and love for its conversion. Love which the monster seemed eager to give.

The shaft did not remove itself from Greg's maw, even after the belly's profound filling had been completed. It stretched forward, taut like a beachball, so impossibly overfull that Greg couldn't help tapping on it with his fingers and laugh inwardly at the tightness of the skin and fur, and at the way it made so many funny sounds from within.

All the fears were gone now. Everything Greg needed was right here, and would be here for the rest of the time that he would need them. Then, afterward... he wasn't clear on whether he would be another creature like the monster, or simply absorbed, but neither fate seemed bad anymore. Just so long as he could be part of this sweetness, filled to overflowing with it and part of sharing it with everyone else...

The lion shuttered and burped around the shaft as he felt his belly turn black and gooey too. He understood, with good pleasure, that more of his body would soon follow in that change.

Greg kept sucking on that cock -- and let his gooey belly hang loose onto the floor in front of him. All through his insides, the feeling of liquid happiness was spreading.

His transformative tutor fed the change -- and with it, steadily purified all lingering thoughts of being or having been anything else. His mind was not bleached, but rather gooed... covered in so much sticky perfection that no inferior thought could take hold.

They would pleasure... they would play...

They would make more.

Some minutes later, the goo lion rose alongside his mentor, and found the door all too easy to dissolve. It gave way with all the simplicity of a saltine dissolving in saliva.

Grayish black trails moved slowly down the corridors. They could've moved faster, but the man who had once been Greg could now see the lack of purpose in such a waste of energy.

He stood proud, gliding slowly forward on paws that spread wide along the floor. He left his cock erected, his body already prepared to give the good, secret fluid to the first organic they came across.

It was quite a cock, he knew. Large, long, and desirable... full of attractive smells and glistening beautifully in the light. There were so many interesting things about the way light reflected... things to which he had never been privy before.

The gooey lion... smiled. There had been a sound in one of the front offices. Electricity was humming in a way he could feel.

He and his companion darted forward to the door, crossing an absurd distance in a very short time on their gliding, sliding bodies. The trail of goo left behind crept slowly forward to try to rejoin them.

Then, by the door, they waited.

They smiled, and they waited, quite prepared to wait for a long time if necessary. They could've simply eaten the door, but something in their instincts told them...

...Well, it was simply more fun this way.