Lab Experiment - Slime TF
Tags: Inanimate, Slime creature, Personality swap, Tentacles, Expansion, Slime TF
Helvex Pharma made drugs, officially. Unofficially, Sublevel 2 chased the big contract: cheap long-distance human transport for space agencies. The problem was simple and unsolvable. Human bodies were fragile. Squishy organs, brittle bones, endless life support. Too expensive to ship. The head scie…
This work contains adult content.
This work contains adult content.
If you want to make a suggestion or have an unique idea? Join the Discord Server. Maybe there is a giveaway so don't miss it! Psss the uncensored versions are there as well!
Helvex Pharma made drugs, officially. Unofficially, Sublevel 2 chased the big contract: cheap long-distance human transport for space agencies. The problem was simple and unsolvable. Human bodies were fragile. Squishy organs, brittle bones, endless life support. Too expensive to ship. The head scientist on the project was Dr. Trish Kowalski. Ginger, freckled, round glasses, braided pigtails and permanently, quietly insecure. About her modest chest, about her soft thighs, about her hips, about the department budget she kept "reallocating" toward her own personal toys and side projects. She was also, and she'd tell you herself, a genius. Her assistant was Margaret Okafor. The whole opposite. Tall, long glossy brown hair to her waist, warm brown eyes and a body that made lab coats look inappropriate. Her bust strained every sweater she owned, her ass fought her slacks daily, and she moved through the lab with the easy calm of a woman who'd never once worried about a mirror.
That Wednesday, Margaret pushed through the office door with her tablet and found Trish already hunched at her terminal, typing fast, screens full of molecular models. "Morning. You're in early…" "Made you your favorite cappuccino," Trish said without looking up, still typing. "Extra foam. On the desk." Margaret stopped and blinked. In three years, Trish had never once made her coffee. Never remembered her birthday. Never noticed her at all beyond "hand me that." A little warm glow lit up in her chest. Well. She could enjoy it. "Thank you, Trish. That's really sweet of you." She drank. It was good, actually, until her teeth hit something at the bottom. It was a jello cube. Squishy, faintly sweet and she chewed and swallowed it without care before her brain caught up. "Why'd you put a jello cube in a cappuccino?" "It's not just a jello cube." Trish finally turned, glasses flashing. "It's our newest experiment!" Margaret's eyes went wide. She couldn't be serious. She stormed over, breasts bumping the desk edge and jabbed a finger down. "Trish! STOP testing your stuff on your STAFF. Stark is STILL on sick days from your 'space food'! He saw colors, Trish. New ones!" "It's not space food." Trish spun back to her keyboard, giggling. "Hahaha. You'll see." Margaret's belly answered before she could. A deep bubbling gurgle rolled through her gut, then a rumble that she felt in her teeth. "Oh... Oh no… Excuse me and this is not over!" She speed walked to the lab bathroom and Trish followed at a distance with a clipboard and zero shame, peeking through the cracked door.
What happened next felt like forever. Margaret sat in the stall, gripping her knees, as her body EMPTIED. Flush after flush after flush, her insides cramping and releasing in waves, sweat beading on her forehead. **FLUSH FLUSH FLUSH** Outside, Trish scribbled. 'Evacuation phase proceeding on schedule. Subject vocal. Note: buy air freshener from department budget... maybe two' Then something changed. Margaret's belly went HEAVY, dense and strange, and at the same time her head went light. Not dizzy light. EMPTY light. Like her thoughts were draining downward, pooling somewhere below her navel. 'What... what's happening to me? Why does my head feel... why can't I remember what I was mad about...' Her gut whimpered and cramped again, her anus preparing to unleash another load, but this one felt different. As it started coming, it didn't feel like waste leaving. It felt like HER leaving. Like part of herself was slipping down and out, and when she braced and looked between her thighs, she saw it. Not anything normal it was something BLUE. Thick, glossy, slimy blue coils sliding out of her, glowing faintly, and she could FEEL from inside them.
"What the HELL did you give me?!" Trish did not respond. The pen scratched on, serene. The spasms kept coming. Push after push, more of the blue mass slipped free, and with every load her mind got emptier up top and heavier down below, awareness draining out of her skull, through her guts, into the jiggling blue pile beneath her. "What is~ ahhh~ HAPPENING to me?!" Then one final huge spurt, everything at once and her body slumped forward, empty, forehead hitting the stall door and Margaret saw it happen from BELOW! She was looking up at her own slumped body from inside the toilet bowl.
Her gorgeous body, hair hanging, eyes blank, breathing but vacant. And she, the actual her, the thinking her, was a mass of blue slime floating in toilet water. 'What the hell?! Why can I SEE my body?! Why am I~ oh gods, I'm IN the~ I'm the SLIME that was coming out!' She tried to move, but could only wobble and slosh around. Every ripple of her own mass felt strange and intense, water swirling THROUGH her edges, the cold porcelain radiating through her whole being. The stall door clicked and swung open. Trish stood there looking down at her, entirely unbothered. "You know those doors are made to open from the outside, right? A good safety feature." She stepped in, snapped her fingers at the slumped body. "Margaret. Stand up." The body stood. Empty eyed, obedient, awaiting instruction. Margaret watched her own tits sway as her body straightened, and pure horror bubbled through her slime. Trish handed the body a plate. "Now scoop the Margaret jello onto the plate. Hahaha!"
Her own hands reached into the bowl and scooped her up, and thank GOD she'd flushed so thoroughly, thank god, or she'd be sitting in her own filth. The fingers sank into her mass and every point of contact BLAZED. Her whole consciousness was compressed into this jiggling blob, every nerve she'd ever had crowded into a handful of goo, and being touched felt like being touched EVERYWHERE at once. 'Hnnn~! oh no. oh no, why does that feel~' Piled on the plate, quivering, she was carried back to the main lab by her own body, Trish trotting alongside taking notes like a proud dog owner. "So! Margaret." Trish hopped up onto a stool, grinning. "You might be wondering what happened. It's very simple. I read this personality extraction hen... uh, MANGA… research manga. It had a concept for turning consciousness into jello which exits through the, ahem, lower body and think about it! No squishy organs to transport through space. No bones. Just a jiggly, durable mass! Space travel becomes CHEAP and it worked, obviously, because I am a genius, of course."
The jello wiggled furiously on the plate, sloshing side to side, screaming that this was bullshit and she was going to report her to every board that existed. What came out was bubbling. "Awwww." Trish giggled, then leaned in close, and her voice dropped into something hungrier. "And you know the best part? When I figure out how to put a mind BACK... I can have your body. Hahahaha! My mind, YOUR body. It'll be LEGENDARY!" 'Those tits! That ass! My brain,' Trish thought, eyes gleaming behind her glasses. 'The complete package. Science demands it.' In her jiggling blue mass, Margaret understood with cold clarity that THIS was the real experiment all along.
Trish did not put the plate down and get to work like a professional. Trish played with her. "Fascinating viscosity," she murmured, and pushed one finger deep into Margaret's mass. 'HNN~' The finger sank in slow, parting her substance and it felt like being penetrated and caressed and held all at once. Margaret's entire consciousness was packed into this blob, every nerve she'd ever owned compressed into a plateful of jelly and one fingertip lit up her whole existence. Trish wiggled it. Margaret's mass shivered in helpless waves. "Reactive to stimulus. Interesting." Trish grabbed a whole handful and SQUEEZED, blue slime bulging between her fingers and Margaret would have screamed if she had lungs. The pressure rolled through her like an orgasm with no body to contain it, sensation folding over sensation. 'Stop~ stop stop, it's too much, everything is too much~' **BLUB BLUB BLORP**
"Are you making noises? Cute." Trish poked her rhythmically, one two three, watched her jiggle. She stretched a rope of Margaret between two hands like taffy and Margaret felt herself PULLED, taut and singing, then released to snap back with a wet plap. Trish pressed her palm flat and squished her down to a pancake, then watched her slowly reform, quivering. She flicked her. She jiggled the plate in circles. She dropped a cold glass stir rod into her middle and stirred. 'HNNNN~ she's STIRRING me, I'm being STIRRED, oh gods, why does my body~ why does my SLIME like this~' Twenty minutes of it. Twenty minutes of poking, squeezing, stretching, stirring, every touch amplified through her compressed nerves until her mind was static and bubbles. Then Trish yawned, bored the way children get bored of new toys. "Okay! Measurements now, I need to document this body!" She snapped her fingers at the vacant body standing in the corner. "Margaret, come! We're getting your body's baseline data. MY future baseline data." She giggled all the way out the door, the empty body padding after her, and the lab door hissed shut. Margaret sat on the plate, quivering with leftover sensation, alone.
'Okay… OKAY think! You have a doctorate. You are a puddle, but you are a puddle with a DOCTORATE!' Moving was the first problem. She had no muscles, but she found that if she shifted her weight inside herself, leaned her mass, she could roll. She flexed, gathered herself into a compact round blob, a slime, like from Trish's stupid mangas, and discovered she could compress down and SPRING. **BOING** She hopped off the plate. **BOING BOING** Across the bench. Then she found the half full water cooler jug by the sink and pressed herself against the spill tray and instinct took over. She absorbed it. Water flooded into her mass and became HER and she grew, doubling, the sensation like a long cool drink through her entire being. 'Oh… that works.' Then her eyes, or whatever passed for them, fell on the supply shelves. Protein stock, agar, nutrient broth and dextrose. An entire wall of biomass, because this was a pharma lab, and pharma labs are BUFFETS if you happen to be a slime with a grudge. She got a genius idea. Bit by bit, jar by jar, she absorbed it all. Each addition swelled her further, mass compounding on mass, and she stopped being a blob and became a CARPET, then a tide, spreading up the walls in glossy blue sheets like fungus, coating the ceiling, draping over the benches, until the entire lab was lined in her. She dimmed the sensation of it all to a warm hum and waited by the door, patient as weather.
Around two hours later, Trish came back leading the body, nose in her clipboard. "...bust measurements alone justify the whole project, honestly and the waist to hip ratio is..." She looked up. The lab was blue. Floor, walls, ceiling. Everything glistened and gently breathed. "...Huh." The door sealed behind her with a wet shlorp. Slime flooded down off the ceiling and caught her wrists, her waist, her ankles, lifting her clipboard away almost politely. Tendrils, dozens, thick and glossy, slid over her body and began peeling her clothes off. Lab coat, gone. Sweater dragged up over her head. Bra pinged open. Slacks and pink panties tugged down her soft freckled thighs. "H-hey! HEY! Margaret! Bad data! BAD DATA!" Trish's face went scarlet as she hung suspended, naked, her modest chest heaving, thighs pinned apart. A warm tendril slid up her inner thigh and pressed flat against her pussy, molding to every fold, and she squeaked. "Stop~! You're like a, like a tentacle monster!" That was when Margaret discovered that with this much mass, she could shape a throat. And with a throat came a voice, bubbling, layered, echoing from every wall at once. "Trish… sweetie, it's time to face redemption."
The tendril at her pussy began to work, grinding slow circles against her clit, and Margaret felt EVERYTHING through it, the plush lips, the growing heat, the first slick of arousal soaking into her slime like water into a sponge. A second tendril thickened, pressed against Trish's entrance and pushed inside. **SCHLORP** "AHHN~" The heat of her gripped Margaret's tendril from every direction, wet velvet walls fluttering, and Margaret pumped in slow and deep, shaping ridges along her own length just to feel Trish clench harder. A third tendril slicked itself against her asshole, circled and slid in and Trish's whole body arched in the slime's grip. "HNNN~ Not both~ not BOTH~ ahhhn~" A fourth found her mouth mid moan and filled it, muffling her into wet gurgles while smaller tendrils coiled around her nipples, rolling and tugging. Margaret fucked all her holes in rolling rhythm, feeling every clench, every spasm, every flood of wetness from the inside AND outside at once, and honestly, vindictively, it was the most satisfying data she'd ever collected. "MMMPH~ MMMMNH!" Trish came shaking, then came again, suspended and stuffed, glasses fogged and crooked, until finally Margaret withdrew everything at once and lowered her gently to the floor. Trish knelt there trembling and her spasming pussy and asshole slowly pushed out the leftover slime in thick blue dollops that crawled back across the tile to rejoin Margaret's mass.
"So." Margaret gathered herself into a towering blue pillar with a suggestion of her own face at the top, arms crossed in a suggestion of arms. "Here's how this goes. You start working, RIGHT now, on putting me back in my body. Or I keep growing and instead of an assistant, this lab gets a cute little slime PET named Trish. I'll keep you in a nice jar. Poke you when I'm bored. Sound familiar?" Trish scrambled for her keyboard, naked, wobbling, and started typing faster than she had in her entire career. 'Note to self,' she thought, hands flying. 'Subject retains full intelligence, develops mass based abilities and holds bitchy grudges. Also note: maybe don't test things on staff. ...maybe.' Behind her, the whole room jiggled.