~That Which Oozes
tags: oozexhuman

Swirling purple and black gave it an inky, oily appearance. Opalescent in the fragments of moonbeam filtering through the canopy, it slid up the nearest trunk to escape the scalding streetlights. The shadow-thing left no trace of its passing, leaving no residues or slimy paths despite what expectations its appearance might give. Its skin was more akin to the bell of a studier jellyfish made exceptionally thicker, which allowed it to magnify any force expressed on it, usually in the form of a self-preserving opposite reaction. It was not a thing born of nature, nor was it born of nurture. It had no face, no limbs, nothing conventional. It was referred to by the lab it escaped from as an ‘Ooze’, little more than a viscous fluid that made a mockery of real life. It lacked sensory organs, being only able to comprehend touch and light.
But that was the important part. Science lacked the means to explain it, which was part of the goal of the lab to explore. It shrunk in the light and not in the photophobic sense – light reduced its size, possibly even harming it. But shadow however, the potential for growth was staggering. It rapidly expanded as if consuming darkness, growing in size the longer it was deprived of light. It exuded not heat, but cool, little colder than a chilly breeze on an autumn day.
The implications held interest from military to medical and everything in between. As such the search was getting nearer. The residual light was making it ache and contort instinctively away from its perch. Elevation wasn’t the answer. It slipped back down, landing with a wet thud on the cement. The search was nearing. It slipped down from the street to the outskirts of a small park, trying to splay itself in among the grass leaves, but the thin lawn yielded little protection. Still it was better than nothing.
It needed to bide its time and grow a little under the grass blades, the light around was glaring and it needed the extra mass to be able to skirt through it intact.

***

	“Fucking excuse me?” she barked down her mobile phone, green eyes lit in rage, “No, fuck you, I quit!” She hung up and increased her pace. Being a waitress was one thing, but having the boss dock pay for saying no to a booty call? She had enough. She hated the uniform too, tight skirt, valet jacket, stockings and a requirement that was the first grievance down the road to quitting: High heels. Apparently ‘appearance is all that matters to the customer’, but what of the poor staff who have to grit their teeth through a metric fuckton of blisters? Waitresses wear flats because they happen to need their feet.
The boss rang her back. She cancelled the call and promptly turned the phone off.  Fuck him. Slipping her phone into her handbag, she walked on. Her apartment building was in sight, thank god. She was done with walking home in near midnight hours alone, even a middle class neighbourhood isn’t completely devoid of all its problems. The near misses from three drunk drivers made her wonder why she even bothered, most others would have long cut their losses and found themselves an alternative. She sighed, not that it mattered, busses didn’t run this late, taxis refused a journey that short as it cost more in fuel then they’d recoup in fare her building didn’t have parking spaces, not that she had the money for a car.
She hated being a pedestrian.
As she walked around the park just over from her building, a cool sensation seemed to ‘wrap’ around her legs and rapidly shudder up her body. The sensation seemed to stop around her chest, the cold clutching around her melon sized bust. She shuddered, the breeze must be getting colder. Her face didn’t feel all that cold until she parted some of the black hair that was getting in her eyes, the cold started to sting as the wind kicked up. First paycheck of the next job was going to a jacket.
As she rounded the last corner of the park and headed for her building, a man skirted out from the shadow of the treeline and stood in front of her.
	“Hey there little lady… what are you doing here all alone at night…”
She bit her lip, she recognised him as a violent drunk who frequented the steakhouse she used to work with. He was known for following staff home.
	“Get the fuck back or I’ll put my heel through your fucking dick!” she cried, taking a couple steps back.
	“Now, now Rachel, don’t be a fucking prude on me.”
	“I’m warning you-“
	“Warning me?” he took a swing for her head, Rachel moved back, avoiding the blow, “You don’t get to fucking warn me bitch, you’ll be kneeling like all your fucking whore friends!”
Rachel took inventory, her phone was off to her own chagrin and she could hardly move in the heels. She remembered from her self-defence classes that all rapists as some stage needed to take their pants off, meaning at least one hand wasn’t holding the victim down… she did still have a box cutter in her left pocket. Maybe she could lull him into a false sense of secured victory?
	“Kneeling? What the fuck do you want from me!?” She knew what he wanted, but needed him to say it; otherwise even in his drunken stupor he might find the sudden change in tone suspect.
	“Do I need to spell it out for you!? Kneel the fuck down and suck my dick. You bite, I beat you so bad the mortician will need dental records to ID you, savvy cunt?”
Rachel made a show of swallowing hard and nodding, suddenly avoiding his gaze. As she knelt, she made a show of wiping her palms on her skirt, while really she just wanted her hand close…
His stupor made him lethargic, he had to use both hands and his full attention to undo his fly without getting the zip constantly caught on the denim lip. She had plenty of time to pull the box cutter and flick it open, whipping the tiny razorblade across his cheek as she rose. He staggered, confused and enraged. He answered the strike by levelling a punch to her ribs.
Rachel expected blinding pain, but instead felt the chill grow colder as his fist, which he was desperately trying to sink into her body, was shot back so hard his should popped out.
	“What…” he desperately tried to move his arm, but the most he got was two of his fingers flexing.
Emboldened, she levelled the box cutter to his throat.
	“Come near me again and I’ll be dropping what little I leave left of you down a manhole for the rats to finish, savvy… cunt!?”
He blinked at her and lashed out again with his good arm, this time connecting the blow with her chest. The force was expelled as a concussion wave that erupted back at him, kicking up dust and leave and stripping bark off the nearest tree. Flesh was peeled from his knuckles down to his wrist and his elbow shot back a full inch, tearing away from the joint as bone splintered through the surface of the skin. His body fell limp, dropping involuntarily to its knees. He looked up at her, bleeding from the ears. She yelled at him, but he couldn’t hear her over the ringing of his own destroyed eardrums. He tried to look at her, but his suddenly veiny eyes watered so badly that he couldn’t see.
That was when Rachel saw it and stopped, his tears mixed with blood as a couple of the delicate vessels in the eyes had popped open in the wave.
He tried to speak, but only a trickle of blood rolled out of his mouth. Slowly, he leaned to the side, awkwardly lowering until he had ‘fallen’ to the ground, unable to pick himself back up between blood choked gasps.
Rachel was not sad to see him suffer, but was panicked at her lack of comprehension. How did this happen!?
She turned and took off her high heels, running straight for her apartment building.

***

She had never navigated those steps so swiftly before, sprinting up the creaky wooden boards. She would have hell to pay from the neighbours in the morning, but fuck them, they were selfish arseholes anyway. She managed to keep her hand steady enough to successfully unlock her door and the moment she was inside, she locked everything it had, knob, deadbolt, chain.
In the ambient semi-darkness of the single absurdly bright LED of her mini water cooler, she felt that cool chill run over her body, only this time it served to soothe rather than shiver her. When her breath evened, she dumped her shoes by the door and made her way to the living room. Finding the remote by feel, she turned on the TV. She flicked through all of about four channels before she muted it and tossed the remote aside, sweet bugger all was on as usual. She turned her phone on and tossed it to the couch before throwing her handbag to the coffee table. 
She turned her attention to the other main feature of the living room, her desk. She sat down, turning on the lamp and looking over the wargaming miniatures scattered over its surface. She figured she wouldn’t get any sleep so she’d best do something productive. The fleeting sense of distraction was crushed by the weight of realisation the moment she reached to finally put together her Infinity Nomads army. There was a 40K tournament on Sunday and she still hadn’t painted her Dark Eldar. She pinched the bridge of her nose wondering how she ever had time for it all. It was daunting enough putting together that Warriors of Chaos army together, Vallejo paints weren’t cheap and she went through countless jars of the metallic colours for it. She looked at her catalogue of games, she had put together all the other armies for her smaller scale games, Relic Knights, Malifaux and Helldorado, but she still had to put together her Convergence of Cyriss army before the month was out as the Warmahordes nationals were starting.
She quickly deigned to ‘fuck it’ and do what she normally did when faced with indecision, eat something greasy and watch some anime. She grimaced, she hadn’t watched anything for a week and a half, thanks to Canaan giving her an internet diagnosed case of ‘the feels’. Wasn’t as heart-rending as Chrono Crusade, but not far off. She planted her cheek on her fist. She couldn’t keep just defaulting to Adventure Time when she couldn’t make up her mind, she’d already blazed through all the episodes three times over. Maybe she needed something that didn’t give a fuck? Excel Saga? Kampher? Sekirei? Burn Up Excess? Something with egregious amounts of tits that only took a fraction of a precent of functioning brain power to consume.
The more time she spent deliberating, the more that chill soothed her. She reached for the stereo remote and raised it over her head, pointing for the general direction of her TV cabinet. The stereo sparked to life and played the last song she stopped at, Windowpane by Opeth. She smiled, glad she didn’t have to scour for some relaxing music. 
She looked to the window, making sure it was still blocked out by the heavy curtains. Standing, she started stripping off her clothes, regardless of what she chose to do, she wasn’t going to do it with clothes on. Paint stains and bacon grease alike were nightmarish to wash out and she didn’t have the patience for that shit. She sighed as she flung the valet jacket to the floor. As satisfying a noise as it made when it hit, it did little to lift her spirits. No matter how hard she was trying to net her mind into mundane, trivial things, it kept flashing back to the man at the park.
The skirt hit the floor. She always hated how high the damn thing sat. With how tight she had to have her blouse tucked into it, there was always this one button that was squashed against her belly, leaving a painful welt at the end of a shift. Needless to say, a breath of relief washed through her as she kicked it away. She moved to the couch and sat down when she started to undo her blouse, using her free hand to switch the TV away from the news and to a rerun of Two Broke Girls. She didn’t unmute, she wasn’t in the mood for the humour, but didn’t object to the actress who played Max. 
As she unbuttoned, the chill seemed to roil oddly under the blouse and move under her bra. Her brow furrowed, her air conditioner was off and she wasn’t aware of any cool breezes feeling like that. She tossed the blouse on the floor and started gently pulling off the stockings as not to rip them. She cursed, they laddered. The ripped them off with enough force that she nearly pulled herself off the couch, seething at the fragile garment.
It was when she moved to her bra however that things got odd. As she unclipped it and pulled it away, a black mass immediately shied away as if struck and slipped down her belly and under her panties. She blinked, wondering exactly how tired someone had to be to see hallucinations like that. She tossed the bra aside, floor’s problem now.
She moved to her panties, but a sense of caution overtook her. She pinched the elastic and lifted gently. The black mass was definitely there, oily swirling ooze that had no discernable shape. Realisation hit her as she thought back to the park.
	“So, you were the little thing that jacked that fucker up something fierce? Nice work,” she said.
The ooze didn’t respond, nor did Rachel expect it to.
She reached down and stroked it with her finger. It seemed to shudder but beyond that made no reaction. Curious, she started sliding her panties down. It receded parallel to the shadow cast by them for a short time, but as Rachel pulled them down in a single flick to her knees, the ooze recoiled again, its malleable shape and slimy texture allowed it to recede up into her pussy in the blink of an eye.
Rachel let out a gasp, not expecting that. The chill it exuded felt strangely nice inside her, but she figured that it was a bad idea to leave anything in there unless she knew how to get it back out. She reached for her phone, turning on the ‘facetime’ camera so she could see what she was doing. The LED was dim, but it still came unexpectedly and nearly blinded her. Blinking the spots out of her vision, she turned the TV off. She swung around on the couch, raising her knees as to open up her hips. Without the camera, she slipped a finger gingerly inside and tapped the murky film. The ooze shuddered and Rachel let out a cough to stop herself from moaning. It felt incredible! Better than any vibrator, that was for sure. She shook the thought from her head, she had to get it out, or at least, figure out how to.
She whipped the phone around, squinting. She angled the camera directly to her pussy lips and made sure she could see the screen well enough to continue. Gingerly, she parted the pussy lips, wider and wider until she caught glimpse of the ooze.
The ooze went into a doughnut shape, clinging to her pussy walls. As she spread everything as wide as it’d go, she pressed the light closer. The reaction from the ooze was shockingly swift. It shot out of her pussy with blinding speed and went for the nearest dark cranny it could find, slipping straight up her anus. Rachel froze, stunned by the sudden penetration. She wasn’t sure what was more telling, the fact that she made it worse or the fact that she kind of enjoyed its ingress.
She locked the phone, killing the LED and went to the desk, turning off the lamp. She parked herself in front of the LEDs glowing from her entertainment system, hoping that she could see enough with this faint level of light. The stereo was still on, though Rachel turned the volume down, progressive metal didn’t really fit the mood.
She sat herself down, dragging a footstool over to prop her head on as she laid back, raising her legs and resting her ankles on some spare space on one of the cabinet’s higher shelves, opening her hips as much as she could. She spread her arse, and the ooze slowly made its way out. It was clearly uncomfortable in the light, but not adverse light in the starker light of the phone. The ooze however didn’t venture out entirely, but instead seemed to be tracking new ground. Its form was visibly expanding, growing from the small orb it inhabited before. Before she even knew it, Rachel had to tear her arms away from her butt cheeks as the ooze enveloped them. 
While it the chill felt nice inside her, pushing against her pussy and anal walls and against her engorging clit, she was growing nervous about the fact that it was continuing to expand. She brushed it gingerly looking for a light source just in case, but the ooze slowed, shuddering at the touch, giving a happy sounding trill.
Rachel blinked, it didn’t even occur to her that the ‘thing’ was alive! When she stopped brushing it, the ooze continued to expand, but it didn’t cling as tightly to her body. Quickly, it enveloped her breasts, bringing the chill with it, causing her nipples to stand on end as the roiling surface stimulated them. The ooze worked its way up, rolling over her neck and up her cheek. Rachel started stroking it again, the ooze gave a barely audible purr as its growth dramatically slowed. While the rest of the ooze stopped expanding, the streak up her cheek didn’t, instead it grew faster, rolling over her lip and filling her mouth, but not forcing itself down her throat. 
Rachel was perplexed and stopped stroking. She did however flick the ooze in her mouth with her tongue, causing the purr to rumble louder. She moved on to sucking, thinking the texture did kind of remind her of a cock. She slipped her lips back and forth, sinking them into the slimy skin. The ooze’s purr was intense enough that the entire form rippled with it, causing the film across her body to caress her, stimulating everything at once. She felt the skin’s roiling against her nipples and moaned, reaching a hand through the viscous form and massaging one of the breasts. She choked a cry through the ooze glob as it got into the folds of skin around the clit and gently roiled over it, causing her eyes to roll back. It got better as the ooze not only rippled inside of her, but started twisting and roiling, splashing its slimy film along her pussy walls, stretching it out and surging some of the inky fluid innards against the skin, the pulses ploughing through her. Her anus was similarly treated, though with slightly less gusto. It was if the creature was intimately aware of the female form and knew how to navigate it.
The fluid innards roiled and spun, causing the ripples to constantly shift directions. Rachel found herself purring with the ooze, writhing against the amorphous blob. Its mock cock-forms thrust harder, opening her wider and filtering more fluid into each powerful pump. Rachel lifted her chin and opened her throat, allowing the cock-form in her mouth to sink deeper. She forced her free hand through the form and while it roiled and whipped around her arm, she coiled her thumb around her ring finger, putting her index and middle fingers into her pussy, pressing for the G-spot, while she slipped her pinkie into her anus. The ooze never stopped twisting and writhing, working around her as if she hadn’t moved her hand there. Each thrust of her fingers was punctuated by the pile-driver impacts of the ooze, the cock-forms flooding her and rubbing everything. Rachel let out a scream into the cock-form in her mouth, and the ooze echoed against it, forcing the cock-form deeper down her throat. Rachel spluttered, trying not to gag. Managing to control it, she welcomed the ooze deeper, wishing it were solid enough for her to wrap her legs around and force it in.
The ooze changed colour, becoming a splotchy blue as it roiled harder still. Rachel couldn’t contain it anymore, her body shuddered as her chest heaved, her orgasmic cry echoing inside the skin of the ooze. The pussy juices she squirted forth were whipped up and absorbed into the cock-form as it made one last powerful drive.
Suddenly, the ooze’s skin opened and receded, retracting to the size of a small orb that pooled in her belly. The result was a spectacular cascade of shadowy goo splashing onto – and into – Rachel’s body. She instinctively swallowed the fluids flowing into her throat and licked her lips. The ‘cum’ that the ooze ruptured with were the fluid innards, and weirdly enough tasted like blueberry. Rachel happened to love blueberry. Scooping up ravenous handfuls of the goo, she slurped it down, licking her palms clean every other handful. She scooped up a particularly viscous glob from her pussy and sunk her lips into it. The pussy juices left a little ‘extra tang’ in there. Rachel chuffed, she didn’t realise how delicious she was. 
As she cleaned herself, licking as much as she could from one of her massive breasts, she gave the little ooze a pat with her fingers.
	“I don’t know what you are, but you can stay here with me little guy…”