A Job at SlimeCon - Slime Girl TF
Tags: Inanimate, Object TF, Caption, Gender bend, Feminization, MTF, Goo TF, Slime TF
DescriptionIf you want to make a suggestion or have an unique idea join the Discord Server. Some of the other things you can find there are NSFW captions without the censor and giveaways for commissions!'A Job at SlimeCon - Slime Girl TFLysander hunched over his laptop, scrolling through job listin…
Lysander hunched over his laptop, scrolling through job listings while his broken headphones buzzed pathetically from the right ear cup. The sound had been driving him insane for weeks. "Fucking piece of shit," he muttered, jiggling the wire for the hundredth time. No improvement. He needed new ones desperately, but his bank account showed a pitiful $23.78. His student loans barely covered tuition and ramen. With a sigh, he clicked on a tab labeled 'URGENT - WEEKEND STAFF NEEDED - SLIMECON - $30/HR.' "Thirty bucks an hour?" Lysander whispered, leaning forward. The listing described a simple vendor position at something called SlimeCon. He'd never heard of it, but the money was too good to pass up. Without bothering to read the fine print, he fired off an application. Three hours later, his phone pinged with an address and instructions to report tomorrow for orientation. Lysander pumped his fist. "Fuck yes! Hello, new headphones!" SlimeCon wasn't what he expected. The convention center teemed with cosplayers dressed as gelatinous creatures with distinctly feminine features. Booths displayed comics, figurines, and... intimate products featuring these slime girls. "Huh," Lysander mumbled, sliding past a display of translucent dildos with swirling colors inside. He couldn't deny the sudden tightness in his jeans. "That's... actually pretty hot." He located the management office and knocked tentatively. "Enter," called a bored voice. Behind a metal desk sat a woman in her forties, platinum blonde hair pulled into a severe bun. Her fingernails, painted blood red, tapped impatiently on the desk surface. She blew a bubble with her gum, letting it pop loudly before sucking it back in. "Lysander Kaine?" she asked without looking up from her tablet. "Yes, ma'am." She finally raised her eyes, scanning him from head to toe. Her expression soured. "You're male." "Uh... last I checked, yeah." He attempted a joke that died in the stale office air. "The listing specifically requested female candidates." She glared at him. Lysander's stomach dropped. "I... I didn't notice that part. I just saw the hourly rate and..." "Jumped without looking. Typical." She sighed, foot tapping rhythmically against the floor. "Well, you're here now." She rummaged through a drawer and produced a stack of papers and a small vial filled with iridescent red liquid. "This won't be an issue tomorrow anyway," she muttered, pushing the contract across the desk. Lysander tried reading the dense legal text, but the woman's impatience was palpable. She clicked her pen open and closed repeatedly, the sound drilling into his skull. "Look," she snapped, "you put your signature on the line or I find another candidate. There are plenty desperate for this money." His eyes flicked to the hourly rate again. Thirty dollars. That would cover his headphones and then some. "No, no, I'll sign!" he blurted, scrawling his signature hastily across the bottom. "Good boy." She slid the vial toward him. "Drink this now. You'll get the second dose tomorrow." "What is it?" he asked, uncapping the vial cautiously. "Vendor preparation. Everyone drinks it. Now bottoms up, or get out." Lysander sniffed the liquid... it smelled pleasantly like strawberries. With a shrug, he tipped it back. It tasted sweet and went down easily. "Report back here tomorrow at 9 AM sharp. I'll email you a copy of your contract." That night, Lysander felt strange. His skin seemed unusually warm, and his stomach gurgled uncomfortably. He blamed it on the greasy convention center food and fell into a fitful sleep. Morning brought little relief. His joints ached, and his skin felt hypersensitive. Every brush of his clothes sent tingles across his body. Still, thirty dollars an hour was thirty dollars an hour. The same woman waited in the office, looking just as disinterested as yesterday. "Drink," she commanded, handing him another vial of red liquid. "Then wait in the prep room down the hall. Door marked 'Staff Only.'" He downed the second vial, which tasted even sweeter than the first. As the woman tapped on her tablet, Lysander felt a sudden, urgent pressure in his bladder. "Um, bathroom?" he asked. She waved vaguely toward the hallway without looking up "Just do it fast and return as fast as possible" Lysander rushed to the men's restroom, practically diving into an empty stall. He fumbled with his zipper, but when he finally aimed at the toilet, nothing happened. The pressure remained, but it wasn't urine trying to escape. "What the fuck?" he whispered. A warm sensation spread from his groin throughout his body. It wasn't unpleasant. Actually, it felt remarkably good. His skin began to tingle, then burn. Not painfully, but intensely. "Unnngh," he groaned, suddenly overwhelmed with a different kind of urgency. His cock hardened instantly, straining against his jeans. Without thinking, Lysander stripped off his clothes, desperate for relief from the fabric that now felt like sandpaper against his incr
