Tutty The Fruity
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Prompt: The Shapeless Seductress (Part 3)
🕑 Added 2023-01-16 21:04:32 +0000 UTCSummary: An exotic dancer is kidnapped by an evil scientist, and is injected with foul serums, rendering her body pliable, soft, and amorphous. She struggles with her new body, sometimes claylike, sometimes gooey, always alien. Commissioned by an anonymous user.
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Part 3
"...hn..."
Wanda stirred awake, her eyes bleary and unfocused; the room she was in was too bright, too white. The hum of fluorescent lights played in the background like a muted din.
Something was wrong. She didn't recognize this place at all. It wasn't her home, it wasn't even her changing room at work. It was too sterile. Stranger still, she felt that something was off with her body. She couldn't place it, it felt heavier. She felt like she was drenched with sweat, she was sticky all over.
She examined the room she was in. It was largely featureless, save for a single white door and a tinted window that she couldn't see through. She looked around, noting that speakers and cameras took up the corners. She shrunk slightly, uncomfortable at how the lenses were focused squarely on her.
She hugged her chest; it was only then that she realized that she was butt naked. Blushing, she hugged herself tighter, wincing at the sensitivity of her breasts... and their heft. They somehow inflated three sizes in the time that she was asleep.
The last thing she remembered before she fell asleep was... that leery man at the club. A dawn of chilling dread washed over her. She was putting two and two together.
"HELLO!?" She called out, hoping someone would answer. "Is someone out there!? I need help!"
There was no response. She began to tremble, clutching the countertop. She turned towards the doorway. She hesitated, feeling an abnormality to her body she couldn't put precise words to, a wooziness that pervaded her entire being.
"I-I think I've been kidnapped!" She called out again, hoping anyone could hear her, anyone at all. "Please, anyone, I'm being- UWAH!"
As she tried to place her weight on one foot, squarely on the floor, she tumbled over, her leg bending unnaturally under her weight. She tried to catch herself, gripping the countertop, but while her hands held, her arms stretched, unable to hold her steady as she crumpled to the floor, her vision obscured again as her face planted against the floor, flattening out.
She was shaking. She couldn't stop shaking, her body wobbling like boneless gelatin. As her arms, stretched like taffy, unpeeled from the countertop, they settled along her behind, splayed palms grabbing at her own inflated ass, fingers doubling in length sticking to her... sinking back into her.
She mumbled, trying to peel herself from the floor. She didn't understand why she was sticking to it so fervently, why her legs didn't cooperate the way she wanted. They seemed stuck to everything, to her body, to the floor, to each other. She writhed, her body gurgling in a manner that seemed off. She tried to roll over, her face still plastered to the floor. As her body rolled over, her neck seemed to extend on its own, her limbs all plastered and sinking into her body, looking like a wadded up pile of clay... save for her head and neck, which sprouted from the top like an underwater eel.
She whimpered, struggling to move her body the way it ought to. Her body seemed alien to her. She tried to work muscles, ligaments that weren't there anymore, and her body, plastered to itself and sticking all over, offered no feedback as to how to control herself. She peeled her head off from the floor and, along a neck stretched to a length of three feet, bobbed up and down, twisting through the air like a cobra. She looked at herself, gawking at her mangled, twisted, glossy form.
"W-what!? W-what is... what's..." She babbled, panic washing over her. Her neck writhed, flailing until her head slammed between the cleavage of her melon-sized breasts. She felt a tugging sensation, a sopping wetness coming over her, as her face, starting with her chin and cheeks, began to slip deeper into her own cleavage.
She burbled in a panic, struggling and flopping against the ground, raising her body temperature in turn. Her sleek body wobbled, streaks of ooze trickling down her curves, pooling around her like a puddle. She felt like she was being suffocated by her own body, her head melting back into her curves as she could only let out some muffled burbles, bubbles of flesh-hued slime escaping her lips.
Her limbs melted back into her body as her body congealed into one giant blob of flesh-coloured slime, formless, featureless, glossy. It writhed, wobbling so much as if stretching in all directions, yet without a sense of direction it went nowhere. The trembling focused to two points near the front...
SPLURT! Two tendrils erupted in quick succession; one, with a bulbous fat tip, inflated, its surface shifting into a misshapen, spooky face, trickles of slime escaping her lips. Wet and slimy, it splattered to the floor, slopping what seemed like mud along the floor; its twin tendril clutched to the floor, tugging along as if to pull the rest of her misshapen body like a slug.
Wanda, her body warped beyond recognition, looked like a monster; as wet sensations took hold of her, as her wet body shifted in ways she didn't recognize, as she reached forward with a featureless tendril, she pulled herself along the floor like a zombie in some morose horror flick, leaving a streak of her own muddy form behind her. She tried to call for help, but her mouth could only burble with more disgusting sounds, as if her mouth was filled with paint.
She crawled towards the door, burbling and struggling all the while. As she approached the door... to her surprise, the door opened on its own.
Wanda yelped in surprise, though she couldn't put words to her facsimile of a mouth. The corner of the man's mouth curled into a wry smile.
"Finally awake, Wanda?" He smiled. "How are you enjoying your new body?"
New... body...? Wanda went still, a chill washing over her. How could she enjoy anything about this!? She was a formless, shapeless freak! The finality of her situation began to wash over her as her twin tendrils dropped to the floor with wet plops...
