Hypnovember - Day 13: Slime/Goo
#13 of Hypnovember 2023
Two heads are better than one, or some people said. But for an orc with no flirting skills, one extra head might not be enough...
Day 13 of Hypnovember goes to... NokuCroc!
(I know it was yesterday, sorry :'3)
Day 13 - Slime/Goo
"Training the suit"
By Patrick D. Lambert
Commissioned by Noku the Croc
It was past midnight when he walked out of the club. Well, getting kicked out was a more appropriate way to say it. Apparently, people have a different concept of what flirting and harassment are, and Darius's approach fell on the latter. A completely understandable mistake, considering how rusty his date game had become--if you can call "hitting someone harder than he's hitting you" a date game.
Strange orc customs that weren't accepted in the society where he was trying to fit in, poorly mimicking what he had learned from watching way more Netflix than he should. He deserved points for trying, even if it was a total disaster.
"Yeah! Yeah! I know the way out! Thanks!" He grunted, the duo of rhinos pushing him out ignoring completely his attempt on a subtle threat.
He fought the urge to beat the crap out of them, as he would have done if he was with his tribe. But he wanted to fit it. He couldn't give up on a primitive instinct like that, not anymore. Which doesn't mean he was happy with the received treatment. After all, all he did was flex his muscles in front of a lioness, what's so bad about that?!
A lot, apparently.
They kicked him out to the back alley, so no one waiting to enter the bar had to see the show. The orc tried to keep his balance, but the non-slip soles of his industrial boots betrayed him, and Darius landed on a puddle of stagnant water. One of the rhinos laughed, and the other made a sonorous grunt.
"Don't you ever dare to show your face around here," he said, a more direct and serious threat.
And before the orc had a chance to reply, they went back in and closed the door with a slam.
Darius stood up with the little dignity he still had on him, only to watch it drip away from the denim jacket he just bought for that night.
"Fucking assholes..." he walked to the door and threw a kick at it, leaving a notorious dent in it.
He looked at himself. Soaked from head to toe. Even the reddish beard and hair got water on it--and something a little more sticky that Darius didn't want to identify.
"Well, your drinks taste like piss anyway!"
But he knew his reply wouldn't get out of the alley, not with the music blasting through the door. It didn't make him feel any better, either. He just felt dumb. The chain of events that threw him into that alley was made of one mistake after the other, and it all started with his dumb idea of finding someone to date.
Out of frustration, the orc kicked the puddle, and then a trash can that was right next to him. Not happy with that, he vented his anger on the wall, throwing brutal punches against the concrete; his knuckles had crushed things harder than that, and it took more than 10 hits for him to start feeling a little pain.
But at least it helped him feel better; enough to realize he was still soaked. Darius left the wet jacked over a closer trash container, then used his dark tank top to dry himself, especially the beard and hair. And he did it while mumbling all the insults he could think of, looking not so different from the regular junky.
The dim light sneaking into the alley barely illuminated his beefy body. Muscles got after years of training and fighting; yet they had no value in comparison to fancy clothes and slender bodies, traits most of the males in the bar had in common. The green skin didn't work in his favor either, a detail all females looked at with disgust or indifference.
"What did they know anyway? The only thing that matters it's what you have down there," he exclaimed.
"I agree with that!" A high-pitched voice said from the shadows.
Darius immediately adopted a defensive posture, expecting some weirdo to come out; maybe a junkie or some low-life thief.
"Who's there?" He called.
The punches from moments ago had his fists still hot and ready for more. He wouldn't doubt to throw a jab at anyone who came from the shadows, especially with how angry he still was. The orc was already feeling bad for the poor bastard that was about to become a boxing bag.
"Someone looks angry," the stranger continued.
But his voice was moving. It was walking towards him. The orc wouldn't waste a second on putting the stranger to sleep; but not too hard, he didn't want to kill it.
However, his mind forgot to hit when he saw the stranger. The silhouette coming off of the shadows looked like nothing he had ever seen before. It had the aspect of a dragon, with muscles of good size. But his orange skin looked unnatural, slightly transparent, and strangely... slimy.
He had the same smug look on his green eyes as most of the dudes at the bar, and the features of his face didn't match his body, having a square-shaped maw, and two thick horns coming off the sides of his head, crowning it along with the orange that ended on a ponytail.
"... what the fuck are you?"
Those were the first words Darius managed to say. Nothing in that stranger was normal. Despite being naked, he had nothing on his crotch. His pecs wiggled with each step taken. And... whatever that was, didn't seem concerned with the way Darius looked at it, as if that wasn't the first time he met with that reaction.
"I'm curious about what you did to get kicked out of the bar. It's not like they have standards."
He kept talking. That little smug face bothered Darius in a way he couldn't explain, but it made him stay there instead of running away from the place. A serious mistake Darius would eventually get to regret.
"I'm not gonna ask again. What the fuck are you?!"
The stranger stopped. His eyes gave a good and thorough inspection of Darius' body, focusing especially on his torso, whose sight got him to lick his upper lip in a gross, almost creepy way.
"You're right. Where are my manners?"
His answer didn't come immediately, though. The stranger pounced over Darius, sending him with ease despite the "light" aspect of his body. Not only that, but he did it with a speed the orc had never seen in his life. And when he tried to push it away from him, Darius realized the stranger had already pinned him down from both shoulders.
"The name's Ilyum."
Darius tried to push him away. Despite being smaller, the orc couldn't beat his grip or his weight. And while he fought against him, Darius started to notice what was weird about his body. It was... soft. Strangely and extremely soft, except for his hands, which had hardened in a way he found impossible.
He looked up at his eyes, his attention caught by a dim glow coming from it that progressively became stronger. A substance started to drip off his body, cold and thick; it took Darius a moment to realize it was Ilyum's "skin", or more precisely, parts of himself.
He kept going with a struggle that led to nothing. Ilyum's hands didn't move an inch, no matter how hard he pushed. And more of his "body" kept dripping over him, bathing the green skin and his blue jeans in orange slime that spread on the surface.
"Your attitude might be a little nasty, but your body is spectacular," that monstrosity said. "I think you will be perfect."
"Help! Somebody he-!"
And that was Darius' final mistake.
The moment his mouth opened, Ilyum turned for a second into a blob of orange slime and entered into his body. Darius knew what panic was for the first time ever, frozen in fear as the slime forced its way down his throat and spread to the rest of his body. Muscle, organs, veins, bones, it all began to be overtaken by Ilyum, the parasitic slime who found in the beefy orc a perfect host for his needs.
And it all happened so quickly that by the time some passersby looked into the alley, all they saw was an orc on the ground, probably a drunkard or a junky that got kicked out of the bar. So they left him to his luck and moved on.
It's not like they would've made a difference. Ilyum was already inside of him, slowly starting to take control over the massive stud who couldn't behave in society. And leaving him was the best choice, for they wouldn't want to be anywhere nearby now that he had become the slime's host. A slime who needed something to eat...
It took him a moment to get up. But Darius barely felt his own movements. Everything heard and felt far away from him as if he had just woken up and was trying to break out of the slumber that kept him trapped under the sheets.
His head was spinning, and a sour taste lingered in his mouth. Something happened, but what exactly? The shock of the attack blocked the last seconds of his memory, pieces that slowly started to fall into place as he stood up, still dizzy and with very little strength on his legs to hold his weight.
He was at the bar, then he got kicked out to the alley... a stranger's voice, someone called Ilyum, and then...
"I was right, this body is perfect."
It was his voice, but not him the one who talked. Darius didn't utter a single word. And when he walked, it wasn't because he wanted to. Something moved his body against his will, pulling invisible strings from the inside that he couldn't stop. And then he remembered it all. Ilyum entered his body through his mouth.
He tried to scream, but nothing came out. All he did was watch as "he" put on the damp jacket and walked out of the alley
"I would give you an explanation, but it won't make a difference. Your little brain won't understand."
Darius, or more precisely, "Darius", talked and walked normally, as if inside his body wasn't living a slime. He stood out of the alley and looked at the lane waiting outside the bar for their turn to get in.
"Your kind is always so easy to possess. Big muscles, little brain. You don't even put up a bit of resistance."
The moment "Darius" began to rub the bulge in his jeans, Darius noticed something too. A rush of energy, and a desperate need to fuck. While his body didn't seem affected, it felt to him like a pressure in his chest growing stronger with each passing second. The orc, or at least his consciousness, began to experience dizziness; and bliss.
"You have everything to get anyone you want. But you're still thinking like an orc. That's your problem."
The blood began to flow into his cock, giving it life and marking a huge bulge under the jeans. His mighty manhood, too big for those useless clothes, fought its way out, encouraged by the huge hand rubbing over the denim.
And just as "he" expected, someone took the bait. A male white tiger, who looked above the heads and shoulders of those in front of him, tempted by the strong orc rubbing his crotch so shamelessly. A mating dance was more effective than flexing his muscles, especially for those who wanted a quick one-night stand without having to deal with flirting.
"Luckily, that's why I'm here. I'll give your body a better use, and we'll both get what we want. Simple."
He couldn't think of anything. His mind, or at least the part of his mind that still belonged to him, was bombarded with this blissful sensation, the kind of anxiety and eagerness that precedes sex. Even when he had never been attracted to males, he didn't feel disgusted when the tiger came with him into the alley, captivated by the sexual energy coming off the muscular orc.
Maybe it was the risk. Maybe it was the need for some physical contact. Or maybe Ilyum was playing with his mind, switching gears and pulling levers to transform the orc's brain into what he wanted to be. A better version, one that fit his needs.
And it was working. While the couple moved to the darkest part of the alley, the orc embraced those new feelings he had never experienced before. The strong grip of a male's hand over his pecs; the taste of his lips, cigarette, and mint; the confidence of being free to hold him in his arms tightly, no longer afraid of handling a delicate body.
His attraction and desire for females translated itself to males instead, changed by the devious powers Ilyum had over him. And his mind, too weak to resist the influence, just accepted all those changes as something completely normal. He didn't question or fight it back. Darius went with it, taking his liking for males as something that had always been a part of him.
The mind control had been so effective, that Darius didn't realize it was him and not Ilyum the one moving his body. The kisses, the gropes, both bulges rubbing together, it was all Darius. The orc had changed his vision of what he liked, and now males like the tiger were what awoke his arousal.
Their clothes fell down one by one in a desperate dance, unbothered by the sounds coming from outside. In the privacy found behind the trash container where they were making out, both males succumbed to their lowest instincts, finding in each other's embrace the easiest form of affection, even if it lasted just a moment.
And the more they kissed, the stronger Ilyum became. The slime monster fed from their sexual desire, their arousal, and their pleasure. And he had found in Darius the perfect host to feed from. A strong brute with a brain easy to manipulate and has high stamina to go on for hours. It was perfect, exactly what he had been looking for.
It lacked any manners. It was a selfish asshole that looked only for his satisfaction. He put the tiger against the wall and smeared saliva on his ass, tempted to fuck him right away, trapped by the beauty of his black-stripped back. Not so muscular, but enough to give him a virile and not-so-fragile aspect. He could go rough on him, fuck him hard, breed him multiple times, and still go for more.
Ilyum was already feeling it. The moment his cock got inside, the tightness of his insides, the sounds he made, that and more became the slime's nutrients. He gave the brainwashed orc the freedom to act as he pleased. And the brute didn't disappoint him.
The feline was just as wild as him, ramming himself against the stud's cock to get those last inches of throbbing meat inside of him. With a sonorous meow and a purr of approval, the tiger let him know he was ready.
But, of course, the orc didn't care if he was ready or not. It was pure coincidence the tiger told him to go on the moment Darius began to fuck him, but he would've started even if he wasn't ready. He held him tightly by the hips and thrust rough and deep, turning those meows into growls, then into moans. And with the power of Ilyum inside of him, the pleasure he felt from ravaging his ass was even stronger.
The privacy ended when their huffs and moans reached out of the alley and got into the prying ears of those walking by. Some looked inside with disgust, others showed some curiosity in their eyes, but no one dared to go in there and interrupt whatever those beasts were doing. For there were no words to describe the aura of lust coming from the shadowy alley.
And while Ilyum fed from the pleasure, Darius reinforced the new reality forced on him by the slime. He had always loved males. He had always enjoyed males. Their muscles. The roughness of their skin. Their musk. Their sound. And the pleasure of feeling those inner walls squeeze and milk your cock.
Every face. Every name. Every female he had slept with transformed to match his new reality, convincing the orc he had been gay all of his life. And with that thought in mind, while his cock continued moving in and out of the tiger's ass, Darius sealed his brainwash and reached climax. His first orgasm with a male.
Each muscle contracted, and the orc lifted the kitty some inches from the ground, shoving his cock balls deep inside his ass. A bucketful of cum flooded his insides, only to start leaking out of him after a couple of seconds. And both males moaned together at the top of their lungs, no longer caring about being found or how ephemeral the moment had been. The bliss their orgasms brought was all they needed.
It was what Ilyum needed.
Inside the orc, the slime rejoiced from the pleasure he was experiencing. Darius' orgasm had been stronger than he anticipated, and for a moment, it even jeopardized his link with the orc. But before that could happen, Ilyum used the energy to strengthen their bond instead, taking even more control over Darius until he was a literal suit for the slime to wear.
Darius didn't care to help the tiger, who stayed behind after his legs refused to obey. He wiped the cum from his cock using his tank top, then left the alley with his jacket open to show his muscles and sweaty green skin, a tone of green that matched his eyes. An aura of lust surrounded the stud, who had started, with Ilyum's help, his training to become a worthy host for the slime monster