The scent of burnt popcorn and mildew clung to the velvet curtains as Mikaela shoved the heavy theater door open with her shoulder. "Place smells like a mechanic's rag bin after a month," she muttered, her boots echoing on the worn marble floor.
Beside her, Chloe adjusted her devil horns, the red satin of her costume shimmering under the emergency exit signs. "You think this dump even has working AC? My tail's already sticking to my thigh."
From Mikaela's other side, Jenna smoothed her angel wings, the cheap feathers shedding onto the cracked tiles. "Relax, Chloe," she sighed, "Mika promised adventure, not comfort. Right, Mika?" Her gaze flicked to Mikaela, who was already scanning the shadow-draped auditorium, the deep V of her Holli Would bodysuit exposing the sweat-slicked valley between her breasts. The blonde wig felt itchy under the stale air.
"Adventure's exactly what we paid for," Mikaela shot back, her voice sharp. "That flyer said 'forgotten pleasures'—twenty bucks each better buy more than dust bunnies and asbestos." She took a deliberate step forward, the click of her thigh-high heels unnervingly loud. The air shifted, coolness ghosting over her exposed lower back where the bodysuit dipped.
Behind her, Sophie fiddled nervously with her maid's apron. "Maybe it's just… atmospheric decay?" Sophie ventured, her voice small.
Mikaela snorted, pausing beneath a crumbling proscenium arch. "Atmospheric decay doesn't make the floorboards hum like an idling Camaro." She placed her palm flat on the peeling gold paint of a pillar. The vibration was unmistakable, thrumming up her arm, resonating faintly in her belly. Her nipples tightened against the flimsy fabric cups of her top. "Feels like something big's running underneath us," she murmured, her mechanic's instincts prickling.
Chloe's painted eyebrows arched. "Underground parking? For what? Ghost cars?"
Ignoring her, Mikaela slid her hand lower, tracing a fissure in the wood. The vibration intensified, a low, rhythmic pulse that seemed to sync with her own heartbeat. A droplet of sweat traced a path down her spine, pooling at the waistband of her bodysuit. Her breath hitched slightly—not fear, but anticipation tightening her muscles low in her abdomen. "Ghosts don't need engines," Mikaela breathed, her blue eyes narrowed in the gloom. "But whoever left that flyer sure as hell does."
----
Inside the dusty security booth, a low, persistent *beep-beep-beep* cut through the silence.** Three amorphous green puddles on the concrete floor wobbled violently, coalescing into vaguely humanoid shapes with startled, gurgling sounds.
"*Gleep!* Alarm! Alarm!" burbled one, bubbles popping furiously from its surface.
"*Glorp!* Intruders? Hungry!" another chimed in, its form sloshing against the grimy wall.
The third simply trembled, emitting a high-pitched whine like a deflating balloon.
From a cracked plastic kiddie pool filled with murky water, Loon erupted upwards. Green slime surged, sculpting itself instantly into her voluptuous human form—E-cup breasts bouncing, long legs unfolding, a cascade of shimmering green hair settling around her shoulders. She stretched with exaggerated cartoon flair, arms wide, back arched impossibly far. "*Yaaaawwwwn!*" she announced, her voice surprisingly melodious. "Five more minutes, fellas!"
She sauntered towards the flickering bank of monitors, hips swaying with playful exaggeration. One screen showed the main auditorium entrance. Her large, expressive eyes scanned the grainy image—lingered on Chloe's devil horns, Jenna's fluttering wings, Sophie's nervous twitch… then locked onto Mikaela. Mikaela, bent low examining the vibrating floorboards, the deep V of her bodysuit straining against her full breasts, sweat gleaming on her peach skin, the white choker stark against her throat, the fierce concentration etched on her face beneath the blonde wig. Loon froze. Her eyes literally *boinged* out of her head on cartoonish stalks, dangling comically before snapping back into place with a soft *sproing*. "*Sweet sugar-popcorn bubbles!*" she gasped, clutching her ample chest. "It's *her*! From the flyer poster! Mikaela! She's... she's *real*!"
Her cartoonish shock melted into rapturous glee. She bounced on the balls of her feet, a delighted giggle escaping her full lips. "Ooh, she looks so... *juicy*! And brave! Look at her investigate!" Loon leaned closer to the screen, her nose almost touching the glass. A faint scent like caramelized sugar and buttered popcorn drifted through the stale air of the booth. The other slimes shuffled closer, intrigued by her excitement. "Okay, team! Change of plans!" Loon declared, hands on her curvy hips. "Forget the usual nibbles. We gotta do this *right*! She's special! Operation: Sweet Surprise is a go! But gently, gently... wouldn't want to scare her off!" A dreamy sigh escaped her. "Imagine tasting *that*..."
The three amorphous puddles wobbled eagerly. With wet, sucking sounds, they began their transformations.
First emerged Glorp, her form solidifying into a sturdy Amazonian shape—broad shoulders, thick thighs, and a cascade of bubble-like curls framing her face. She flexed newly formed biceps, grinning with jagged emerald teeth.
Next came Gleep, coalescing into a lithe, willowy figure with serpentine grace, her limbs elongated and fingers tipped with shimmering claws.
Finally, Blorp rose as a petite pixie, barely four feet tall, her childlike features contrasting with the predatory gleam in her oversized eyes.
Each retained their luminous green translucency, bodies shimmering like disturbed pond water under the booth's flickering lights. Loon tapped her chin thoughtfully, the scent of kettle corn intensifying as she assessed her sisters. "Glorp," she commanded, pointing at Chloe's devil-horned silhouette on the monitor, "You handle the feisty one—she'll fight, so pin her *hard*. Gleep, the fluttering angel is yours—entangle her wings, make her sing. Blorp," she added, nodding toward Sophie's trembling maid outfit, "the timid one's all yours. Be gentle... at first."
Then Loon's gaze snapped back to Mikaela, still crouched low, tracing vibrations with mechanic's precision. Her voice dropped to a husky whisper, thick with possessive hunger. "*That* one... Mikaela... she's mine. Alone." The other slimes hissed in protest, bubbles popping furiously across their skin, but Loon silenced them with a sharp glare. "Her fire... her sharp mind... her *scent*..." Loon inhaled deeply, her E-cup breasts straining against her shimmering form. "I want every gasp, every shudder, every drop of her clear nectar spilling just for me. You touch her," she growled, her playful cartoon demeanor vanishing into primal intensity, "and I dissolve you myself." The threat hung heavy, thick as the popcorn-sweet air.
Loon turned fully toward the monitor, her expression softening into rapt fascination. She watched Mikaela's brow furrow in concentration, the sweat tracing the valley between her breasts where the bodysuit plunged deep. Loon's own breath hitched, a phantom ache tightening low in her liquid belly. She imagined the taste of Mikaela's sweat—salty and warm—mingling with the addictive slickness she knew awaited beneath that white fabric. Her fingers twitched, yearning to trace the defiant line of Mikaela's jaw, to feel the pulse hammering beneath the white choker. "Soon, brave girl," Loon murmured, a promise and a prayer. "Soon, you'll crave my touch like oxygen." She licked her full lips, already tasting the phantom sweetness of surrender.
Beside her, Glorp flexed her shimmering biceps with a wet squelch, jagged teeth glinting. "Feisty prey tastes best," she burbled eagerly, bubbles popping across her broad shoulders. "I make her scream before she squirts."
Gleep slithered forward, serpentine limbs elongating further. "The angel... I bind her wings tight," she hissed. "Feel her flutter against me... delicious panic."
Blorp merely giggled, a high-pitched sound like shattering glass. "Timid one... I let her think she escapes," she whispered, oversized eyes gleaming. "Then... *gloop*... surprise kiss!"
Loon silenced them with a sharp wave, her focus laser-sharp on Mikaela. "Enough chatter! Positions! Remember—gentle with *mine*. Now... vanish!" Like spilled ink absorbing into stone, the trio melted into the shadows beneath the console, leaving only faint trails of shimmering slime on the concrete.
---
The corridor branched sharply, revealing four identical velvet-curtained archways, each marked by a flickering bulb above a brass plaque: COMEDY, TRAGEDY, ROMANCE, HORROR. Dust motes danced in the stale air like trapped fireflies. Chloe snorted, adjusting her devil horns. "Romance? In this dump? Bet it's just sticky seats and faded porn mags." She jabbed a painted nail toward HORROR. "That's more my speed. Probably got some cheap jump scares and fake blood."
Jenna fixed her fake angel wings. "Comedy sounds safer... maybe?"
Sophie tugged her maid's apron, eyes wide. "Tragedy... sounds sad. Should someone check it?"
Mikaela's gaze swept the plaques, her mechanic's instincts prickling. The rhythmic thrum vibrated strongest from behind ROMANCE—a deep, insistent pulse that resonated in her bones. *An engine*, she thought, *or something like one*. She met Chloe's smirk. "Fine. Horror's yours, demon girl. Don't get possessed."
Chloe grinned, sharp and feral. "Oh, I'll possess *something*."
Jenna sighed. "Comedy, then. Hope it's not clowns." Sophie whispered, "Tragedy... okay."
Mikaela nodded curtly, her blue eyes locked on ROMANCE. "I'll take romance. Seems… fitting." The lie tasted metallic. She pushed the heavy curtain aside, the velvet cool and unexpectedly slick against her fingertips.
Inside the Comedy theater, Jenna blinked at the rows of decaying red velvet seats. "Seriously? This place hasn't seen a laugh since Vaudeville died." Her voice echoed hollowly. She stepped further in, the faint scent of old popcorn and mildew thick. "Hello? Is this stupid prank thing on? Because—" Her words died as she froze, staring up at the massive, cracked screen flickering with static snow. A reflection rippled across it—not hers. A shifting, amorphous green silhouette directly behind her.
"*Gleep*," whispered a wet, gurgling voice, almost playful.
Jenna whirled, heart slamming against her ribs. "What the—?" Her wings crunched against something yielding yet unyielding. A wall of cool, shimmering slime pressed against her back, pinning her arms. The substance flowed upwards with terrifying speed, sculpting curves—hips, a slender waist, E-cup breasts pressing against Jenna's shoulder blades, long limbs coiling around her torso. Jenna gasped, the cold shock stealing her breath. "Get OFF! Help—!"
Gleep's newly formed lips—plump and slick—slammed onto Jenna's dark pink ones, cutting off her scream. It wasn't a kiss; it was an invasion. Cool, thick slime, tasting faintly of ozone and brine, flooded Jenna's mouth. She gagged, thrashing, but Gleep held her effortlessly, serpentine arms constricting like wet vines. The slime forced its way down Jenna's throat, a shocking, viscous slide that burned coldly and triggered a violent shudder. Panic flared, sharp and bright, but beneath it, a strange warmth bloomed low in Jenna's belly, unnervingly pleasant. Her struggles weakened, replaced by a dazed, involuntary moan muffled against the slime-girl's mouth.
Gleep deepened the kiss, her long fingers tangling in Jenna's hair, claws scraping gently against her scalp. Jenna's body arched, no longer fighting but trembling with conflicting sensations—the chill of the slime coating her tongue, the surprising heat pooling between her thighs, the addictive tingle spreading through her veins like liquid fire. She whimpered, a sound lost in the wet suction. Her mind screamed *danger*, but her traitorous body leaned into the embrace, craving more of the intoxicating cold. Gleep's serpentine tongue probed deeper, exploring every contour of Jenna's mouth, feeding her another surge of the thick, addictive fluid. Jenna's knees buckled, held upright only by the slime's coiled strength, her thoughts dissolving into a hazy fog of cold pleasure and growing, undeniable hunger.
---
Chloe shoved aside the heavy HORROR curtain, her thigh-high boots crunching on scattered plaster debris. The theater mirrored the others—decaying grandeur, rows of dusty red velvet seats, the flickering bulb above the exit sign casting long, wavering shadows. "Place smells like a crypt after a flood," she muttered, striding down the center aisle. Her eyes scanned the gloom, sharp and unimpressed. Halfway down, a figure sat motionless in a middle row, silhouetted against the dim light filtering from the projection booth. Tall, powerfully built, shoulders broad beneath shimmering, translucent skin. Chloe paused, one hand resting on her hip. "Hey! You part of this lame-ass haunted house gig? Cause if you're gonna jump out, do it already. I ain't got all night."
The figure turned slowly. Glorp's Amazonian form solidified, her bubble-curled hair framing a face of sharp, emerald beauty, jagged teeth glinting in a predatory smile. "Patience, little devil," Glorp purred, her voice a low, wet burble that resonated in the hollow space. "Not a jump scare. A claim." She rose smoothly, towering over Chloe, her thick thighs parting the shadows.
Chloe's painted eyebrow arched, a smirk playing on her dark pink lips. "A claim? Honey, the only thing getting claimed here is your ass if this is another—"
Glorp moved faster than Chloe's reflexes could track. One massive, shimmering hand clamped around Chloe's upper arm, hauling her forward with shocking strength. The other hand fisted in the red satin at the small of Chloe's back, yanking her flush against the solid, cool plane of Glorp's torso. Chloe gasped, the breath knocked from her lungs, her devil horns tilting askew. Before she could snarl an insult, Glorp's lips crashed down onto hers. It wasn't a kiss; it was a declaration. Cool, viscous slime flooded Chloe's mouth, thick and tasting faintly of brine and ozone. Chloe bucked, her hands flying up to push against Glorp's broad shoulders, but the slime held her immobile, muscles like liquid steel beneath the shimmering surface. A surge of the addictive fluid hit Chloe's throat, cold and shocking, igniting an immediate, involuntary spasm of pleasure deep in her core that warred violently with her fury. She tried to bite down, but Glorp's lips sealed harder, forcing the slime deeper, her jagged teeth a terrifying promise against Chloe's skin.
Chloe's muffled curse vibrated against Glorp's invading mouth. Her body was a live wire—knees locked, spine rigid, every muscle straining against the slime's implacable hold. The cool substance coating her tongue triggered a gag reflex, but beneath the revulsion, warmth bloomed, insidious and demanding. Her struggles became less about escape and more about friction, her hips grinding unconsciously against Glorp's solid thigh. The scent of Glorp—ozone and damp earth—filled her nostrils, mingling with the taste of the slime. Her mind screamed defiance, but her pussy clenched, slick heat seeping into her costume despite herself. Glorp's grip tightened, fingers digging into the soft flesh above Chloe's hip bone, pulling her impossibly closer as the kiss deepened, a relentless tide of cold pleasure forcing its way down her throat. Chloe's vision blurred at the edges, the shadows in the Horror theater pulsing in time with the desperate throb between her legs.
---
Sophie pushed aside the heavy TRAGEDY curtain, the velvet damp and clinging unpleasantly to her fingers. The theater yawned before her, cavernous and oppressive. Dust motes danced like ash in the dim light filtering through cracks in the ceiling. Silence pressed down, thick and suffocating, broken only by the frantic hammering of her own heart. "Hello?" she whispered, her voice swallowed instantly by the gloom. "Anybody in this theater?" Rows of decaying velvet seats stretched into darkness, their crimson upholstery faded to the color of old bloodstains. The air smelled of neglect and something else… faintly sweet, like wilted roses left in stagnant water. Sophie shivered, clutching her maid's apron tighter. "This was a bad idea," she murmured, her breath misting in the chill. "Such a stupid, bad—" A muffled sob cut through the silence. Small, pitiful, echoing from the shadows near the stage.
Sophie froze. Her gaze snapped toward the sound—a crumpled figure huddled beside a fallen velvet drape, barely visible in the gloom. Small shoulders shook with silent weeping. A child? Abandoned? Panic warred with instinct. "Hey?" Sophie called softly, stepping forward cautiously. Her thigh-high boots sank into thick dust. "Are you okay?" The figure didn't move, just whimpered louder, a heartbreaking sound that tugged at Sophie's frayed nerves. "It's alright," Sophie murmured, her voice trembling slightly as she closed the distance, kneeling beside the small form. "I'm Sophie. What's your name?"
The child lifted her head slowly. Wide, watery green eyes met Sophie's beneath a tangle of shimmering green hair. Sophie gasped. The skin wasn't skin—it was translucent, viscous, glowing faintly like disturbed pond scum under moonlight. Before Sophie could recoil, Blorp smirked—a sharp, predatory twist of her lips that didn't belong on a child's face. "Blorp," she chirped, her voice suddenly clear and unnervingly adult. Then, with a wet, squelching sound, her chest ballooned outward violently. Her simple smock strained and tore as enormous, bouncy E-cup breasts surged free, their luminous green surface wobbling obscenely inches from Sophie's stunned face. Sophie scrambled backward, a choked scream dying in her throat. "What—?!"
Blorp lunged. Cool, slick fingers clamped around Sophie's jaw, forcing her mouth open. Before Sophie could twist away, Blorp's lips crashed onto hers—not a kiss, but a cold, wet invasion. Thick, syrupy slime flooded Sophie's mouth, tasting overwhelmingly of sugary bubblegum and something sharply chemical beneath. Sophie gagged, thrashing wildly, but Blorp held her effortlessly. The slime slid down her throat in a shocking, viscous wave, icy and burning simultaneously. Sophie's body convulsed—terror warring with an immediate, involuntary jolt of electric pleasure deep in her belly. She tasted sugar, ozone, and a creeping warmth spreading through her veins like potent liquor.
Sophie's muffled cries vibrated against Blorp's relentless lips. Panic flared—*monster, escape!*—but beneath it, her struggles grew sluggish. The icy slickness coating her tongue ignited strange tingles across her skin. Her thighs trembled, pressing together instinctively as heat pooled low in her core, slick and urgent. Trapped breaths became shallow gasps. The slime's sugary-chemical taste morphed into something addictive, cloyingly sweet, flooding her senses. Blorp deepened the kiss, her tongue—cool and probing—exploring every corner of Sophie's mouth. Sophie whimpered, no longer fighting but trembling violently. Her hands, which had pushed feebly against Blorp's shoulders, now clutched at them, fingers sinking into the unexpectedly yielding, gelatinous flesh. The thick fluid surged again, thicker this time, flooding her throat, triggering another violent shudder that arched her back against the dusty floor. A warm, wet gush soaked the crotch of Sophie's maid's costume as her body betrayed her completely.
---
Velvet swallowed Mikaela whole as she stepped into ROMANCE, the heavy curtain falling shut behind her with a muffled *thump*. The air here was thick, sweetly floral—like crushed roses mixed with spilled engine coolant—and noticeably colder than the corridor. Dust motes hung suspended in the gloom, illuminated only by flickering bulbs strung like dying fairy lights overhead. The rhythmic thrum vibrated stronger here, a deep, resonant pulse that echoed in Mikaela's ribcage and hummed against the soles of her thigh-high boots. "Place looks like a boudoir for ghosts," she muttered, her voice unnervingly loud in the stillness. She scanned the cramped space: cracked mirrors lining the walls reflected distorted fragments of herself—her blonde wig askew, the deep V of her bodysuit gleaming with sweat, the white choker stark against her throat. Plush velvet benches, faded and stained, surrounded a small, circular stage draped in moth-eaten crimson silk. The vibration emanated from beneath that stage—a low, insistent growl. Mikaela's mechanic instincts screamed *machine hidden below*. She approached cautiously, the click of her heels swallowed by the thick carpet. Her fingers brushed the cold silk drape. "What's under here, huh? Some kinda—"
A shimmering green puddle seeped silently from beneath the crimson silk, pooling slick and sudden on the stage's edge. It surged upward with impossible speed, sculpting curves and limbs in a liquid ripple. Loon solidified in a breath, her voluptuous human form radiating sugary popcorn scent. She struck a dramatic pose—one hand clasped over her ample E-cup breast, the other flung wide—and declared in a ringing, theatrical voice dripping with cartoonish yearning: "Mikaela! Mikaela! Wherefore art thou Mikaela?" Her luminous green eyes scanned the shadows beneath the flickering lights, her expression exaggeratedly forlorn. Then her gaze locked onto Mikaela, frozen mid-stride just feet away. Loon's eyes literally *boinged* out of her head on elastic stalks, morphing into pulsing green hearts that hovered comically before snapping back with a soft *sproing*. A dazzling, predatory smile spread across her full lips. "*There* the babe is!" she cried, her voice thick with possessive glee. "Right now!"
Mikaela recoiled, her hand instinctively flying to the small wrench tucked into her boot—a habit from her garage days. "The hell are you?" she snapped, her voice sharp and steady despite the icy prickle crawling up her spine. She took a deliberate step back, muscles coiled. "Some kinda bio-weapon spill? Toxic waste with tits?" Her blue eyes narrowed, assessing: the impossible fluidity of Loon's form, the unsettling sweetness in the air, the predatory hunger beneath the cartoonish facade. The thrumming beneath the stage intensified, vibrating through the soles of Mikaela's boots and resonating low in her belly.
Loon giggled, a sound like popcorn kernels popping. She sauntered forward with exaggerated hip swaying, her shimmering green skin catching the flickering light. "Toxic? Me? Oh, sugar-pop, I'm *delicious*," she purred, closing the distance with liquid grace. Her scent intensified—buttered popcorn and spun sugar—washing over Mikaela. "Name's Loon! And you…" Her gaze raked hungrily over Mikaela's sweat-slicked cleavage, the straining cups of her bodysuit, the tense line of her jaw. "You're everything the flyer promised. Fierce. Smart. *Juicy*." Loon's tongue darted out, wetting her own plump lips. Her pupils dilated, swirling with emerald hunger. "I've been *dreaming* of tasting you," she whispered, her playful tone dropping into a husky rasp that sent an unwelcome shiver down Mikaela's spine. "Your sharp tongue… your brave heart…" Loon's hand lifted, fingers elongating slightly, shimmering with viscous intent. "…especially that sweet, clear nectar I know you make."
Mikaela didn't flinch. Her fingers tightened around the cold steel wrench handle tucked into her boot-top. "Dream on, Jell-O," she snarled, her voice low and dangerous. Adrenaline sharpened her focus—the unnatural fluidity, the predatory gleam beneath the cartoonish act, the rhythmic thrum *still* pulsing beneath the stage. This wasn't just some horny slime; it was guarding something. "You touch me," Mikaela warned, her blue eyes locked onto Loon's swirling gaze, "and I turn you into a puddle nobody won't recognize." She shifted her weight, muscles coiled like springs, ready to sidestep or strike. The scent of caramelized sugar thickened, cloying and insistent, making her nostrils flare. A bead of sweat traced the curve of her breastbone beneath the plunging V of her bodysuit. Her pussy clenched involuntarily—not arousal, but a visceral reaction to the primal threat radiating from the creature before her. The air crackled with tension.
Loon sighed dramatically, a hand fluttering to her translucent chest. "So harsh!" she lamented, her voice thick with theatrical sorrow. But her eyes hardened, the playful facade cracking. "Fine." In a blur of shimmering motion faster than Mikaela anticipated, Loon lunged. Cool, slick fingers clamped onto Mikaela's bare forearm, the grip astonishingly strong and unyielding. Before Mikaela could wrench free or swing the wrench, Loon's other hand shot out, fingers elongating into slick tentacles aimed straight for Mikaela's parted lips. "*Have a taste first!*" Loon hissed, her sugary breath hot against Mikaela's cheek, eyes blazing with possessive fury. The thick, syrupy scent intensified, flooding Mikaela's senses.
Reflex took over. Mikaela twisted violently, her mechanic's strength and training snapping her arm free from Loon's grip with a wet *schlick*. Simultaneously, her other hand yanked the wrench free from her boot. Without hesitation, fueled by pure instinct and revulsion, Mikaela swung. The cold steel connected squarely with Loon's shimmering chest—right where a human heart would be—with a sickening, wet *thunk*. Instead of tearing through, the wrench sank deep into the gelatinous flesh, embedding itself up to the handle. Loon froze. Her eyes widened impossibly, cartoonish shock replacing fury. "*Ooh!*" she gasped, voice suddenly high and breathless. She staggered back a step, staring down at the protruding wrench handle buried in her luminous green chest. "*Right… in the ticker!*" She clutched dramatically at the wrench's grip, her fingers trembling. "*Mikaela! Sweetheart!*" she gasped, her voice thick with theatrical agony. "*Tell… tell my sisters… tell 'em I'm not gonna make it for Christmas dinner…*" She swayed precariously, her luminous eyes locking onto Mikaela's stunned face. "*Tell 'em… tell 'em Loon loved 'em… always did…*" Her voice dropped to a trembling whisper, thick with fake emotion. "*But you… Mikaela…*" A single, shimmering tear, smelling faintly of caramel, rolled down her cheek. "*I always loved… you… most… of all…*" Her eyelids fluttered dramatically shut. With a final, exaggerated sigh, she collapsed forward, falling limply into Mikaela's unprepared arms. Her full weight hit Mikaela's chest, smelling overwhelmingly of buttered popcorn and candy floss. Loon's body went completely slack, her head lolling back, lips slightly parted. The wrench handle jutted obscenely from her chest, buried deep in the quivering green jelly. Mikaela instinctively caught her, the slime's cool, yielding form pressing against her sweat-slicked skin. Loon's eyelashes didn't even twitch.
Mikaela stared down at the limp form in her arms, the wrench's grip digging into her own palm as she held it instinctively upright. The sugary scent was overpowering now, mixing sickeningly with the metallic tang of shock. "No…" Mikaela breathed, the word barely audible. Her gaze was fixed on Loon's slack face, the unnerving stillness of features that had been so animated moments before. The wrench felt impossibly heavy, impossibly solid lodged in that yielding flesh. The vibration beneath the stage abruptly ceased, plunging the curtained alcove into crushing silence. Mikaela's own heart hammered against her ribs, a frantic drumbeat against the sudden quiet. "Oh god…" she choked out this time, louder. Her fingers, slick with cold slime residue, trembled against Loon's shimmering shoulder. The reality slammed into her like a physical blow: she'd swung with lethal intent. She'd killed. Not a robot, not a Decepticon drone, but *this*. Something that spoke, that mimicked cartoons, that… smelled like popcorn. A cold wave washed over her, leaving her skin clammy beneath her bodysuit. She was a murderer. The wrench handle felt like a branding iron in her hand. "I... I didn't mean..." she stammered, her voice thick with horrified disbelief. "She was... she was gonna..." The justification died in her throat, useless against the limp weight in her arms. Tears pricked at her eyes, blurring the grotesque sight of the embedded tool. "Jesus..." she whispered, shaking her head violently. "I'm sorry... Loon... I'm so fucking sorry..." The apology tumbled out raw and broken.
Loon's eyelids snapped open. Her luminous green eyes stared directly into Mikaela's horrified blue ones, sparkling with manic glee. A wide, impossibly sharp grin split her face, stretching far wider than any human mouth could. "*Gee, pudding!*" Loon chirped in a perfect, high-pitched Harley Quinn squeal, her voice dripping with cartoonish affection. "*I know yah cared about me! Didn't know ya cared* that *much!*" Before Mikaela could react—before she could even gasp—Loon surged upwards in her arms. Her cool, slick hands clamped onto Mikaela's cheeks. With startling strength, she pulled Mikaela's face down to hers. "*Mwah!*" Loon declared loudly, planting a wet, smacking kiss full on Mikaela's parted lips. It wasn't gentle or passionate in any conventional sense; it was cartoonishly aggressive, almost violent. Loon's full lips mashed against Mikaela's, cold and impossibly soft, tasting overwhelmingly of sugary bubblegum and warm butter. Her tongue darted out instantly—not probing, but *invading*—thick, cool, and slick, forcing its way past Mikaela's teeth with surprising speed and pressure. Mikaela instinctively tried to jerk back, but Loon's grip on her cheeks was like cold, living steel. A muffled gasp of shock escaped Mikaela's throat only to be swallowed by the slime's insistent kiss.
The thick, syrupy liquid flooded Mikaela's mouth instantly. It tasted overwhelmingly sweet—like concentrated candy floss and butterscotch—but beneath it lurked a sharp, chemical tang, like ozone mixed with cheap perfume. The cold slickness coated her tongue, slid down her throat in a shocking, viscous wave. Mikaela gagged, her body convulsing against Loon's hold. Panic flared white-hot—*poison!*—but beneath the terror, an immediate, electric jolt of sensation hit her lower belly. Her nipples tightened painfully against the flimsy cups of her bodysuit. A wave of unnatural heat bloomed low in her core, spreading rapidly through her limbs, making her muscles feel loose and heavy. Her struggles weakened instantly. Her knees buckled slightly, forcing her to lean more heavily into the slime's embrace. Loon deepened the kiss impossibly, her cool tongue exploring every corner of Mikaela's mouth with possessive thoroughness. Mikaela whimpered, a sound muffled against the slime's lips. Her hands, which had instinctively pushed against Loon's shimmering shoulders, now clutched weakly at them, fingers sinking into the yielding, gelatinous flesh. The thick fluid surged again, flooding her throat, triggering another violent shudder that arched Mikaela's back against Loon's surprisingly solid form. Between her thighs, slick heat bloomed, soaking the thin fabric of her bodysuit as her body responded fiercely against her will.
Loon's long, shimmering legs slid up Mikaela's thighs with liquid ease, locking around her slim waist with astonishing strength. Her ankles hooked together at the small of Mikaela's back, pulling their bodies impossibly flush. The sudden shift tightened Mikaela's breath. Her sweat-slicked stomach pressed against Loon's cool, yielding flesh, the plunging V of her bodysuit crushed against the slime's E-cup breasts. Mikaela felt trapped, immobilized, utterly vulnerable as Loon maintained the relentless kiss. Every frantic inhale was filled with that cloying popcorn scent mixed with the sharp tang of the invading fluid. Her pussy throbbed with alarming insistence, slick juices soaking the inside of her thigh-high boots. Her hips bucked involuntarily against Loon's grip, seeking friction, seeking release from the unbearable tension coiling deep within her. Loon hummed into her mouth, a low, vibrating sound that resonated through Mikaela's bones. The kiss stretched on, seconds feeling like minutes, Mikaela drowning in sensation—cold slime, burning heat, sweet poison, and the terrifyingly intense pulse of unwanted arousal tightening her core.
Finally, Loon pulled her head back. Her lips stretched for an impossible moment, connected by a thick, glistening strand of viscous green liquid mingled with Mikaela's saliva. It stretched taut, shimmering under the flickering light, then snapped back with a sharp, wet *pop*. Mikaela gasped, gulping air that burned her lungs. Her lips felt swollen, tingling, coated with that sickly-sweet residue. She blinked rapidly, trying to clear the haze clouding her vision. Her body trembled, muscles weak and pliant against Loon's iron grip. Loon's luminous green eyes, mere inches away, sparkled with predatory amusement and pure, unadulterated hunger. A slow, triumphant smirk spread across her full lips, stretching wider than any human mouth could. Her breath, smelling intensely of caramelized sugar, washed over Mikaela's face. "Well, Holli Would," Loon purred, her voice dripping with cartoonish mockery and raw lust, "I might not be a noid." Her legs tightened possessively around Mikaela's waist. "But you," she leaned forward, her lips brushing Mikaela's earlobe, "are one horny doodle." The tip of her tongue flicked out, tracing the shell of Mikaela's ear. Mikaela shuddered violently, a fresh wave of heat flooding her core. "Want me," Loon breathed, her voice dropping to a husky whisper thick with promise, "to fuck you out of Cool World?"
Mikaela's stomach clenched as if punched. The heat radiating from her pussy intensified, slickness soaking the inner seam of her thigh-high boots. Her nipples scraped painfully against the flimsy fabric cups with every frantic breath. The wrench handle, still buried uselessly in Loon's chest, felt cold and alien against her palm. Her mind screamed *danger*, *escape*, *fight* – instincts honed fixing engines and dodging cops. But her body… her traitorous body sang a different tune. It hummed with the invasive syrup coating her throat, craving the unnatural coolness pressing against her skin, responding fiercely to the possessive grip trapping her. She stared into Loon's eyes – swirling pools of emerald green reflecting the flickering light and her own terrified, flushed face. Beneath the cartoonish glee, Mikaela saw something primal, ancient: a predator claiming its prize. The choice wasn't about surrender or escape anymore; it was about acknowledging the wildfire consuming her from within. Her jaw tightened. Her fingers, still clutching Loon's gelatinous shoulder, dug deeper. "Yeah," Mikaela rasped, her voice raw and thick with unexpected defiance, her blue eyes locking onto Loon's predatory gaze. "Guess I do." She lifted her chin, sweat tracing her jawline. "So," she challenged, forcing the words past tingling lips, "show me what you got, Jell-O."
Loon's wide grin turned sharp, predatory. "*Oh, sugar-popcorn bubbles!*" she squealed, delight cracking through the lust. "*You just made my Tuesday!*" With startling speed, her free hand shot to her own chest. Her fingers sank into the shimmering green jelly surrounding the embedded wrench like warm wax. She didn't pull it out; she *absorbed* it. The cold steel slid effortlessly into her gelatinous flesh with a wet *schlorp*, vanishing completely inside her torso. Mikaela stared, transfixed, as the wrench handle disappeared inch by inch, leaving only smooth, luminous green skin. Loon's eyes widened comically, her tongue lolling out as she gave an exaggerated gulp. "*Mmmph!*" she groaned theatrically, patting her belly. "*Bit rusty, pumpkin! Needs seasoning!*" Then, leaning forward conspiratorially towards Mikaela's stunned face, Loon puckered her impossibly full lips. Her cheeks ballooned outward grotesquely, straining with pressure. With a sharp, wet *PTWANG!*, she spat violently. The wrench shot out of her mouth like a bullet, spinning end-over-end through the dusty air. It sailed past Mikaela's ear, whistling faintly, before vanishing into the deep shadows at the back of the stage with a muffled *clang* and the sound of splintering wood. "*Better!*" Loon declared brightly, wiping her lips with the back of her shimmering hand. "*Now,*" she purred, her gaze raking over Mikaela's trembling form, "*where were we? Oh yeah! Strip show time!*"
Loon's legs unlocked from Mikaela's waist with surprising fluidity. Her cool, yielding form slid down Mikaela's sweat-slicked body like water, leaving trails of tingling sensation. Mikaela gasped as her feet hit the worn stage boards, legs wobbling precariously. The sudden freedom was dizzying, but the deep thrum of arousal remained, a persistent drumbeat low in her belly. Loon sauntered backwards towards the apron of the stage, hips swaying with exaggerated cartoon flair. She pointed a shimmering green finger towards the dark cavern of the auditorium. "*Front row, Holli Would,*" she commanded, her voice echoing strangely in the emptiness. "*Center seat. Best view in the house for the main attraction.*" She gestured grandly towards Mikaela herself. "*You!*" Loon hopped lightly off the stage, landing silently on the dusty red velvet of the front row seats. She flopped down dramatically in the center chair, kicking her shimmering legs up onto the armrest in front of her. "*The stage is yours, sugarplum! Time to peel!*" She leaned forward, elbows on her knees, chin resting on interlaced fingers, her luminous eyes gleaming with hungry anticipation. "*Show Mama Loon whatcha got! Make it juicy!*" The command hung in the air, thick as the popcorn scent clinging to Mikaela's skin. The silence pressed in, broken only by Mikaela's own ragged breathing and the frantic pulse pounding between her legs.
Mikaela stood frozen for a heartbeat, the cool stage air raising goosebumps on her sweat-dampened arms. The plunging V of her bodysuit felt suddenly exposed, vulnerable. Her pussy clenched, slick heat soaking the thin fabric pressed against her lips. The thick syrup Loon forced down her throat pulsed through her veins, amplifying every sensation, whispering promises of release if she obeyed. She glanced towards the dark wings where her friends were likely pinned, then back at Loon's predatory smirk. Fight? Flight? Both felt impossible against the tide rising inside her. Taking a shuddering breath that scraped her throat, Mikaela lifted a trembling hand towards the clasp of her white choker. Her fingers fumbled against the cool metal. As the clasp gave way, falling to the stage with a soft *clink*, Loon's lips parted. Not in a grin, but in a wide, dark O. A deep, resonant hum began to vibrate from her throat – low at first, like the idling engine Mikaela had sensed earlier. It rose swiftly, transforming into a complex, layered melody: a sultry saxophone wail intertwined with the sharp snap of brush-strokes on a snare drum, underscored by the deep throb of a stand-up bass.
The sound wasn't just heard; Mikaela *felt* it in her bones, a syncopated pulse that resonated perfectly with the frantic beat of her own heart and the slick throb between her thighs. Real music. Forbidden. Demanding movement. The first note washed over Mikaela, and her hips gave an involuntary twitch. The blonde wig suddenly felt unbearably heavy. Her fingers, slick with nervous sweat, moved to her hair. With a sharp tug, she pulled the wig off, shaking her head fiercely. Her own long, dark brown hair cascaded down her back, freed. "Fine," Mikaela rasped, her voice thick, defiant yet laced with surrender. "You want a show?"
Loon leaned forward, elbows digging into her knees, chin propped on interlaced fingers. Her luminous eyes devoured every nuance. "*Every drop, sugarplum,*" she breathed, the bassline thrumming louder, impossibly physical. "*Make Mama Loon thirsty.*"
(Spicy Treat Start!)
Mikaela's hands trembled only slightly as they slid down her own sweat-slicked torso. Her palms found the cups covering her nipples, and she pushes them down. The bodysuit pooled momentarily at her waist before she gripped the sides where the deep V plunged. "Place smells like burnt tires and desperation," she muttered, her gaze locked onto Loon's rapt face. "Hope you like the scent of desperation." With a defiant shimmy, she pushed the clinging fabric down over her hips. It slid past her curvy ass, over her trembling thighs, and pooled around her thigh-high boots with a soft whisper. The cool stage air rushed against her bare skin, raising instant goosebumps. Her bare breasts, heavy and flushed, swayed slightly, nipples tight and aching against the sudden exposure. Her pussy pulsed, slickness soaking the thin strip of fabric still covering it – the last barrier.
Loon's lips parted wider, a low moan escaping her. "*Oh, honey...*" The music shifted, saxophone wailing higher, drums snapping faster. "*Yessssss...*"
Mikaela's breath hitched. The rhythm wasn't just heard anymore; it was inside her, coiling deep in her belly, twisting her muscles. The syrup coating her throat pulsed hotter. Her hips began to sway, tentatively at first, then more deliberately. She recalled Holli Would's cartoonish swagger from old tapes – the impossible hip swings, the arching back, the confident ownership of space. She wasn't Holli; she was Mikaela, stripped raw. But the music demanded it. One boot-clad foot slid forward, grinding her heel into the worn wood. Her back arched, pushing her breasts forward towards Loon's hungry gaze. Her hands slid up her sweat-dampened ribs, fingers brushing the sensitive undersides of her breasts, making her gasp. "This desperate enough for you?" she challenged, her voice thick, almost lost under the rising saxophone wail. Her hips rolled in a slow, deliberate circle, the motion sending fresh waves of slick heat flooding from her pussy, soaking the thin fabric clinging to her mound. Her thighs trembled with the effort and the overwhelming sensation. The cool air kissed her wetness, intensifying the maddening pulse. She spun slowly, presenting her bare back to Loon, the curve of her ass emphasized by the boots, the dimple above her tailbone a vulnerable hollow. Over her shoulder, she caught Loon's luminous eyes, wide and rapt. "Or," Mikaela breathed, turning back, her hands sliding down her flat stomach towards the final scrap of fabric, fingers hooking into the waistband, "do you need more?" Her thumb traced the soaked edge. The music crescendoed, a desperate, pleading wail.
Loon surged forward in her seat, her shimmering form trembling. "*More!*" she hissed, a command wrapped in pure, desperate need. "*Give Mama Loon* everything*!*" Her own legs squeezed together, a visible tremor running through her luminous green flesh. The scent of caramelized popcorn intensified, thick and cloying, mingling with Mikaela's own musk of sweat and arousal. "*Peel it off, sugar! Show me that sweet, squirting prize!*"
Mikaela's fingers tightened on the damp fabric. Her blue eyes, clouded with lust and defiance, locked onto Loon's. The thick syrup pulsed through her veins, amplifying every nerve ending, silencing the last whispers of resistance. She gave a final, sharp nod. Her thumbs hooked deeper. The thin strip of white fabric stretched taut, clinging desperately to her slick skin for one impossible moment before yielding. With a slow, deliberate pull, Mikaela peeled the last barrier down over her hips, past her trembling thighs, letting it fall silently to join the discarded bodysuit around her boots. Cool air rushed against her completely exposed pussy, making her gasp. Her lips, swollen and glistening, pulsed visibly. A fresh wave of slickness, thick and clear, trickled down her inner thigh, tracing a shimmering path towards her knee-high boot. She stood utterly bare except for the boots, bathed in the flickering light and Loon's ravenous stare. Her hands, trembling violently now, rose slowly. One palm cupped the aching fullness of her breast, fingers teasing the rigid peak of her nipple. The other slid down her flat stomach, fingers splaying possessively over her mound, just above the slick, dark curls. Her hips began a slow, sinuous roll, a primal rhythm answering the saxophone's wail. "You wanted everything?" Mikaela rasped, her voice raw, thick with surrender and unspeakable need. Her gaze never left Loon's luminous eyes. "Here it is. Every desperate inch."
Loon's eyes went impossibly wide. The complex, layered music – saxophone wail, drum snaps, bass throb – emanating from her throat hitched, choked off mid-note like a record scratch. "*Glurk!*" A sound escaped her, part gasp, part strangled hiccup. Her jaw literally dropped, unhinging cartoonishly, slamming onto the dusty velvet seat cushion with a soft *thump*. Her green lips formed a perfect, shocked O. For a single, frozen heartbeat, the auditorium was plunged into utter silence. Then, Loon inhaled sharply. Her cheeks ballooned outward grotesquely, impossibly full. With a sharp, piercing *PTWEEEET!*, she unleashed a wolf whistle so loud it echoed off the crumbling plaster ceiling. Simultaneously, her E-cup breasts surged violently forward. A shimmering, translucent green heart shape, pulsing with internal light, stretched out from her chest cavity like taffy, elongating towards Mikaela on the stage. It hovered for a moment, impossibly suspended, before snapping back into her torso with a wet *schlorp*, leaving her chest heaving. "*Holy sugar-popcorn bubbles!*" she shrieked, her voice cracking with cartoonish disbelief and overwhelming arousal. "*You weren't kidding about desperate! That ain't just juice, honey, that's a whole damn waterfall!*"
Loon exploded from the velvet seat. Her shimmering green form became a blur of impossible cartoon speed. One moment she was sprawled across the chair; the next, she was airborne, hurtling across the gap between seats and stage. Mikaela barely had time to flinch before Loon slammed into her. The impact wasn't painful; it was yielding, cool, and overwhelming, like diving into gelatinous quicksand. Mikaela gasped as Loon's momentum drove them both backwards. Her boots skidded on the dusty stage boards. She lost her footing completely, tumbling backwards onto the worn wood. Loon landed squarely on top of her, pinning her hips with powerful thighs, Mikaela's bare breasts crushed against Loon's cool, yielding green mounds. "*Mine!*" Loon growled, the word vibrating against Mikaela's lips. "*All mine!*" Their mouths collided. Loon's lips were impossibly soft and cool, tasting faintly of caramelized sugar. The kiss wasn't tentative; it was ravenous, possessive. Loon's tongue plunged deep into Mikaela's mouth, tangling with hers, forcing her head back against the stage floor. Mikaela moaned into the kiss, her body arching instinctively upwards, pressing her trapped breasts harder against Loon's cool softness. The thick syrup in her veins ignited into wildfire, her own hands scrambling against Loon's back, fingers sinking into the yielding jelly.
As their mouths fused, grinding lips and tongues in a slick, desperate rhythm, Loon's nipples began to shift. The tight green buds darkened, softened, and melted. In their place, two sets of perfect, full green lips emerged, slick and glistening. With impossible suction, they latched onto Mikaela's swollen, pink nipples. Mikaela's scream was muffled against Loon's mouth. The sensation was electric, overwhelming – a deep, rhythmic suckling pulling directly on her nerves, sending jagged bolts of pleasure straight to her clenching core. Each suck intensified the ache in Mikaela's breasts, making them swell impossibly fuller, throbbing in time with the suction. Her hips bucked wildly beneath Loon's pinning weight, seeking friction against the cool slime straddling her. Her pussy clenched violently, pulsing waves of slickness soaking the stage floor beneath her bare ass. Loon moaned low into Mikaela's mouth, the vibrations humming through their joined lips and into Mikaela's jaw. The green lips attached to Mikaela's nipples suckled harder, pulling deep, drawing out desperate whimpers Mikaela couldn't swallow. The coolness against her overheated skin, the relentless suction on her nipples, the invasive tongue claiming her mouth – it was too much, not enough. Her body felt simultaneously consumed and starved. Loon pulled her mouth back slightly, breaking the kiss with a slick pop. Her luminous eyes burned inches above Mikaela's. "*Sweetness…*" Loon breathed, her voice thick and trembling, her green lips glistening. "*So… much… sweetness.*" Her hips ground down against Mikaela's slick core. "*Gonna drain every drop…*"
Loon's hips surged forward, pressing her own smooth, bare mound firmly against Mikaela's swollen, dripping pussy. The coolness of Loon's flesh against Mikaela's burning heat made Mikaela gasp, arching her spine off the dusty stage boards. Loon began a slow, deliberate grind, her pelvis rolling in tight, possessive circles against Mikaela's exposed clit. Each deliberate rotation sent fresh shocks through Mikaela's core, her hips lifting instinctively to meet the pressure. The suction on her nipples intensified rhythmically, pulling in time with Loon's grinding hips. Mikaela's hands scrabbled uselessly against Loon's gelatinous back before gripping handfuls of shimmering green hair, pulling Loon's face closer. "*More!*" Mikaela choked out, the word mangled and desperate. "*Fuck… harder!*" The thick syrup pulsed through her veins, obliterating thought, leaving only raw, pulsing need. Her pussy clenched violently around phantom pressure, desperate to be filled by the cool press grinding against her. Clear fluid spilled freely down her inner thighs, pooling beneath her hips. The scent of caramelized popcorn mingled intensely with her own musk.
Loon's grin was predatory, triumphant. "*Oh, honey…*" she murmured, her breath hot against Mikaela's ear. "*Mama Loon's just getting started…*" She shifted her hips slightly, angling herself so the hard ridge of her own pubic mound pressed directly against Mikaela's throbbing clit. "*Feel that grind, sweetness? That's just the warm-up…*"
Loon's rhythm intensified, her hips pistoning faster against Mikaela's slick core. The grinding became frantic, desperate – a wet, slapping friction punctuated by Mikaela's ragged cries and Loon's low, guttural groans. Mikaela felt the slick heat building impossibly fast, coiling tight in her belly, amplified by the relentless suction pulling at her nipples. Her thighs trembled violently against Loon's cool legs pinning her down. Every nerve felt scraped raw, focused solely on the point where Loon's mound ground down on hers. "*Gonna make you burst…*" Loon gasped between thrusts, her voice strained. "*Gonna taste that sweet, clear flood… gonna drink it all…*" Mikaela's vision blurred. The pressure was unbearable, tightening like a vise low in her belly.
Her muscles locked. She couldn't breathe. "*Loon!*" Mikaela screamed, her voice cracking, fingers digging desperately into Loon's yielding shoulders. "*Please! I'm… I'm gonna—!*" The grinding friction hit a frenzy, Loon's hips a blur against hers. The suction on her nipples flared white-hot. The coil snapped.
"*NOW!*" Loon snarled, slamming her hips down hard. Mikaela's back arched violently off the stage floor. Her thighs clamped around Loon's waist.
"*Yes!*" Mikaela gasped, the sound ripped from her throat. "*Fuck! Cumming!*" Her hands flew down from Loon's shoulders, fingers sinking deep into the cool, pliant flesh of Loon's curvy ass, pulling her impossibly closer as her hips bucked wildly. "*Take it all!*" Clear liquid erupted from Mikaela's pussy in a sudden, hot gush, drenching Loon's grinding mound and spraying across Mikaela's own trembling thighs.
Loon gasped sharply. "*Ohh, that's the good stuff!*" Her smooth green mound shimmered violently, transforming instantly. Soft folds melted away, replaced by slick, full green lips—glossy, parted, and impossibly wide. They clamped onto Mikaela's pulsing core with fierce suction. "*Glurk!*" Mikaela choked, her entire body seizing as the lips latched tight. She could feel each intense pull, drawing her slickness deep inside Loon's cool body. The suction wasn't just surface; it felt like it reached into her womb, milking out every spasm of her climax. "*Sucking… you… dry…*" Loon groaned raggedly against Mikaela's neck, her own hips stuttering.
Mikaela's cry dissolved into ragged whimpers as the relentless suction dragged her orgasm deeper, sharper. Loon trembled above her, a low hum vibrating through her gelatinous form. "*So… sweet… full…*" Loon gasped, her luminous eyes widening impossibly. The green irises pulsed, shifting shape—round pupils melting into perfect, glowing green hearts that throbbed with light. "*Me… too…!*" Her voice hitched into a high keen. Her body stiffened, the suction intensifying to a near-painful pull as Mikaela felt fresh tremors racking Loon's cool flesh pressed against her own. A fresh flood of warm, viscous slime spilled from Loon's sucking lips, mingling with Mikaela's own slickness and dripping onto the stage floor beneath them.
Loon collapsed forward, her face burying into Mikaela's sweaty neck. "*Mmmph… drank… it all…*" she mumbled, her voice thick and muffled, the heart-shaped eyes fluttering half-closed. The suction finally eased, the green lips softening back into smooth folds against Mikaela's throbbing core. Mikaela lay panting, spent and trembling, Loon's weight cool and heavy on her, the scent of caramelized popcorn clinging thickly to her skin. Her fingers slowly unclenched from Loon's ass, leaving faint indentations in the shimmering green flesh. "*Still… want… more…*" Loon sighed, nuzzling deeper, her breath hot on Mikaela's collarbone. "*Always… more… sweetness…*"
With a groan that vibrated through Mikaela's bones, Loon pushed herself up onto her elbows. Her luminous green-heart eyes locked onto Mikaela's dazed blue ones, sparkling with renewed, predatory hunger. "*But Mama Loon… ain't greedy,"* Loon purred, a playful lilt returning, though her voice remained husky. "*Just… thorough.*" Her grin widened, sharp and knowing. "*You got… squirter's stamina, sugar. Betcha got… another waterfall… hidin' deep.*" Her gaze drifted down Mikaela's sweat-sheened body, lingering on the flushed, swollen lips between her legs, slick and glistening in the dim light. "*That juicy peach… and that tight little plum…*" Loon traced a cool, slick finger along Mikaela's inner thigh, stopping just shy of her dripping entrance. "*Both look… parched.*"
Mikaela gasped as Loon's lower body began to *shift*. Her hips shimmered violently, the smooth curves dissolving into viscous, translucent green fluid. The transformation was swift, unsettlingly organic – her legs melted together, surging upwards and thickening. Two thick, muscular tentacles, glistening with internal light, erupted from her waist. They pulsed slowly, independently, like monstrous serpents coiling above Mikaela's prone form, dripping warm slime onto her bare stomach. "*Gotta water… both orchards…*" Loon breathed, her voice thick with anticipation. One tentacle, slick and cool, nudged insistently against Mikaela's slick, swollen pussy lips. The other, thicker at the tip, pressed firmly against the tight, puckered ring of her asshole. "*Deep… deep drink…*"
"*Loon—!*" Mikaela choked out, a mix of shock and raw, renewed need tightening her throat. The tentacle at her pussy slid forward with deliberate pressure, its slick surface parting her folds easily, the coolness a shocking contrast to her inner heat as it began pushing *in*. "*Ah! Fuck—!*" Simultaneously, the thicker tentacle pressed harder against her asshole. Mikaela instinctively clenched, but the slickness eased the way, the cool, blunt tip breaching the tight ring with a slow, stretching burn. "*Ohgod—both?!*" she gasped, her back arching off the stage floor, her hands flying to grip Loon's shimmering forearms. "*Yes! Push… deeper!*" The tentacles surged forward in unison, filling her completely – one stretching her slick channel wide and cool, the other invading her tight back passage with relentless, thick pressure. The dual fullness was overwhelming, stealing her breath, igniting sparks deep inside her belly she hadn't known existed. "*Fill me… drain me… Loon!*" Mikaela cried, her hips lifting desperately to meet the invasion. "*All yours!*"
Loon's breath hitched above her. "*Feel that stretch, sweetness?*" she growled, her voice strained, gritting her perfect human looking teeth as she concentrated. Her waist pistoned downward, driving the tentacles deeper, harder. "*Gonna fuck you… till you scream…*" Each thrust was a deliberate, forceful invasion. The tentacle in Mikaela's pussy surged with rhythmic pulses, mimicking the throbbing of a cock, its slick surface rubbing against every sensitive spot inside her. The one in her ass pressed deeper still, thick and unyielding, stretching her impossibly wider with each plunge.
Mikaela's cries became ragged, desperate moans. "*Harder!*" she begged, nails digging into Loon's gelatinous skin. "*Fuck me harder! Make me feel… everything!*" Her inner muscles clenched violently around the invading lengths, trying to grip, to milk them deeper, the coolness inside her contrasting sharply with the furnace heat building low in her belly. Sweat slicked their bodies where skin met slime, the scent of popcorn and musk thick in the air. "*Gonna… gonna break me…*" Mikaela whimpered, her thighs trembling against the floor.
The thrusts became frantic, desperate – a wet, slapping rhythm echoing in the cavernous theater. Loon's face contorted above Mikaela, teeth still gritted, a low growl vibrating in her throat. "*Close… sweetness… so close!*" she gasped. The tentacles pulsed hotter, thicker inside Mikaela, swelling impossibly.
The friction intensified, igniting a wildfire that raced up Mikaela's spine. "*Loon! I'm… I'm—!*" Mikaela screamed, her body locking rigid. Her pussy clenched down hard on the invading tentacle, a vice-like spasm rippling through her core. Simultaneously, her asshole tightened fiercely around the thick intrusion, pulsing wildly. "*Cumming! Fuck! Cumming!*" Clear liquid sprayed from her pussy in hot jets around the tentacle buried deep inside her, drenching Loon's shimmering tentacle.
Loon gasped sharply, her eyes rolling back. "*YES!*" she roared, her jaw going slack. Her tongue lolled out of her mouth, thick and slick and green, hanging limply as ecstasy claimed her. Both tentacles erupted deep inside Mikaela – thick, warm pulses of viscous slime flooding her pussy and ass in relentless, hot spurts, filling her to overflowing. "*Glurk!*" Mikaela choked, her body convulsing as the hot flood surged inside her, mingling with her own slickness. The tentacles pulsed and twitched within her spasming channels, emptying themselves completely. Loon shuddered violently above her, a final groan escaping her slack lips before she slumped forward, her face burying in Mikaela's sweat-slicked neck, her tongue still draped wetly onto Mikaela's collarbone. "*Full… so full…*" Loon mumbled deliriously against her skin, her breath hot and ragged. "*Sweetness… flooded…*" The tentacles remained buried deep, pulsing faintly with aftershocks, warm slime leaking around their bases onto the soaked stage floor beneath Mikaela's trembling hips.
(Spicy Treat End!)
"*Loon…*" Mikaela breathed, her voice thick and slurred, her fingers weakly stroking the shimmering green hair plastered to Loon's damp temple. "*You… drowned me…*" She felt impossibly stretched, stuffed full and heavy, Loon's cooling weight pinning her down. The thick syrup still sang in her veins, softening the edges of exhaustion, keeping the desperate ache low in her belly simmering despite the overwhelming fullness. "*Can barely… breathe…*"
Loon lifted her head slowly, her luminous green-heart eyes unfocused, glazed with spent pleasure. Her tongue slurped messily back into her mouth. "*Mmmph…" she hummed, a lazy grin spreading across her full lips. "*Good… deep drink…*" Her lower body shimmered violently again, the tentacles dissolving with wet, slurping sounds as they retracted, leaving Mikaela gaping and dripping. The viscous green fluid flowed upwards, reshaping itself with liquid grace into smooth curves – the familiar swell of curvy hips reforming, the lush curve of her ass solidifying, her long, shapely legs unfolding from Mikaela's sprawl. Loon settled her weight more comfortably onto Mikaela's thighs, now fully humanoid from the waist down, her cool mound pressing firmly against Mikaela's soaked, sensitive core. "*But…" Loon murmured, her gaze drifting down Mikaela's ravaged body, lingering on her flushed, swollen pussy lips glistening with their mingled fluids, "...thirsty again… already?*" She leaned down, her caramel-popcorn breath warm on Mikaela's lips. "*Taste tells…*"
Mikaela's breath hitched. "*Always…" she whispered, her blue eyes locking onto Loon's luminous green ones, defiant despite her exhaustion. "*For you…*" The admission hung heavy, raw and vulnerable. Before Loon could respond, Mikaela surged upwards, capturing Loon's full lips in a fierce, claiming kiss. Her tongue plunged deep, tasting the lingering sweetness of her own cum mixed with Loon's unique syrup, the faint electric tang of slime beneath. Loon gasped against her mouth, startled, then moaned low and deep, her arms wrapping tightly around Mikaela's shoulders as she kissed back with equal fervor. Their tongues tangled, exploring, devouring – Mikaela's tasting of desperation and salt, Loon's cool and slick, flooding Mikaela's mouth with thick, addictive sweetness. Mikaela groaned into the kiss, her hips grinding instinctively against Loon's cool mound, seeking friction even as the oversensitivity made her flinch. "*Mine…" Mikaela breathed against Loon's lips, her hand sliding possessively down Loon's smooth, cool back to grip her curvy ass, pulling her closer still. "*All mine…*"
Loon pulled back just enough to speak, her lips brushing Mikaela's with each word, her breath puffing warm. "*Yours…" she agreed, her voice husky, trembling. "*Always… sweetness…" Her luminous eyes burned with possessive hunger mirroring Mikaela's own. "*Want… more…" Her hips began a slow, deliberate grind against Mikaela's slick core, the cool pressure reigniting sparks deep within Mikaela's exhausted flesh. "*Right… here…" Loon whispered, her lips finding Mikaela's again, softer this time, a promise sealed with another deep, intoxicating kiss. "*Right… now…"
The end.