Elliot took the chance offered by his client’s thinking to stretch his arms over his head. The quill still held between his fingers dripped a cold splodge of black onto his shoulder, and once his yawning was over, he admonished himself with a whispered curse, brushing the stain with his fingers.
“If you were to make me answer one way or another,” said Melyssa, sitting across from him at the office desk, “then I’d say summer was my favourite season.”
“I thought you’d say that,” said Elliot as he noted her response on the parchment.
“It’s nice to be able to go outside at all hours, and there’s the Fayre at the equinox, and… Wait, why is this even a question?”
Melyssa laughed, and the relaxed, easy motion of her shoulders brought her bouncing bust into sharp relief above the edge of the table. Elliot was used to seeing the blonde girl dressed in the prim red that was her uniform when working the bar at the Dancing by Lantern. By contrast, this blue number was frilled in white and cut low enough to be indecent. She’d be cold out in the winter chill. Her locks curled inwards at the tips like the boughs of a willow, tickling her shoulders and framing her round cheeks. She’d applied a light layer of paint to her lips and eyelids too. Elliot had no say in whether she would be successful in her application today, so there was no need for her to dress to impress him. But he wasn’t complaining.
He blinked, tearing his eyes up from her cleavage, and slapped his own cheek to dispel his fatigue. “Sorry, what did you say?”
“I asked why favourite season is a question in the application. It doesn’t seem relevant to me,” said Melyssa.
“Ah, right. The role involves working closely with elves. And they and their realm have some peculiar properties.”
“Do they not like people who prefer winter?” she giggled.
“More that if the season in Ilvarith resonates with an outsider, it may create some strange effects in them. A closing of the gap between outside and in, is how it was explained to me. I’m told the Castle will be prioritising attendants that limit the risk of unfortunate eldritch accidents.”
Melyssa nodded with a sagely smile, and her locks bounced on her shoulders. “My grandad says he courted a girl in his youth who got enchanted away by the elves. He tells me he can still hear her singing when it’s a full moon, out between the trees of the forest.”
“He may be right,” said Elliot. “Ilvarith is a strange place.”
“You’ve been before?”
“Oh, no. Never.”
Melyssa, smiling warmly, reached across the desk and took his hand. “Then it’ll be an adventure for both of us.”
“Yes,” he said with a chuckle, “if your application is successful.”
“Of course.” She winked, and for a moment, Elliot couldn’t feel the chill.
The Office of Municipal Integration had been a hive of activity over the past two weeks. Following the festive chaos of Yule, the Castle had declared their plans for the Elf King’s legendary Ball in the spring. Where usually only a small contingent from Layman would attend the mysterious gathering in the depths of the forest, Castellan Thaddeus wanted to more widely open up the mysticism of their neighbours and bring along a cohort of lay attendants to support the diplomatic work. Note-taking, fetching and carrying… but also representing the city and her people. Attendants would be encouraged to discourse with the elves of Ilvarith, make some friends, share their culture. Then they’d come home and talk about everything they’d seen to their human acquaintances, thus closing the gap between human and elf.
Naturally, Thaddeus wanted the cohort of attendants to represent the diversity of his city. Not just Castle residents or noble youths, but labourers and apprentices and, obviously, those dwelling in the Low Town too. Low Towners would need to submit an application to support the Ball the same as those in the city, and Elliot’s office was where they did it. Lines had stretched all around the office, down the street and almost to the city walls. And who could blame them? A chance to see elves, real elves! The residents of fairy tales, the immortal dream-walkers! Who wouldn’t want the chance to visit them in their home beyond the trees?
It had been a busy two weeks of applications for Elliot and his little team. Elliot had barely left the four walls of his home and workplace, relying on food deliveries from nearby vendors to keep him fed. His wrist ached, and he’d developed some serious callouses on his fingertips. The edges of his vision were constantly blurred, and he’d bumped into the office support beam more than once on his way to the kitchen. But Melyssa was the last. After this, he could rest.
“Is that everything?” the barmaid asked him when he lingered in the heat of her hand.
“O-Oh, yes. That’s everything.” Elliot pulled his hand regretfully from hers. “Thank you. We’ll post the names of the successful candidates outside in a few weeks.”
“You’re a saint, Elliot. What are you doing after this?”
“Sleeping,” he replied honestly. “Maybe until the spring comes. I haven’t decided.”
Behind his chair, Elliot heard the low chuckle of Mathilda between crinkles of parchment. The elderly scrivener had been working just as hard this past fortnight. She’d be taking some time off starting tomorrow, and it was well deserved.
“That’s a shame,” said Melyssa. She smoothed some hair around her ear. “I was hoping you’d join me for a drink at the Lantern.”
“I really won’t be good company.”
“That’s for me to decide. But if you’re sure.”
She rose, stroking her pleated skirts around her thighs, and Elliot rose with her. He hid the ache in his bones as best he could. Melyssa curtsied beside the desk before making for the door.
“It’s well dark out, miss,” said Mathilda, moving past Elliot to join the barmaid in her leaving. Mathilda’s austere, black dress would hide any ink stains well, though Elliot doubted the meticulous woman ever wasted a drop of the stuff. Her grey hair was still tied in the severe knot from that morning, not a strand out of place. But her smile was warm.
“Oh, I know these streets well, thank you,” said Melyssa. “I won’t run into any trouble.”
“You are sure?”
“Thank you. And goodnight, one and all.”
At the door, she waved to him, and Elliot responded in kind. But when the door closed shut behind her, he put both hands over his face and shouted into his palms.
“Thank the Almighty! It’s over!”
Mathilda patted his shoulder with a kindly smile. “Congratulations, Overseer.”
“And thank you, Mathilda. We couldn’t have processed all those candidates without you and… Oh.”
He turned to acknowledge the third and final member of their little staff, and he saw that Jacque was asleep. The lad had his arms folded on the desk, and his face was peaceful where it rested on his sleeves. His black hair was a messy nest around his ears, and his blue apprentice coat was a matching mess of wrinkles. He’d worked just as hard as either of them.
“I will rouse him,” said Mathilda. “Help him on his way home.”
“Thanks.”
Each of their desks held a high stack of papers for delivery to the Castle. Elliot would need to ship them up the road the day after tomorrow when he met with the Celebrant Committee to finalise plans for the Ball. He might need some help carrying them all.
But when Elliot turned, he found Mathilda frowning up at him. The tip of the old woman’s nose wriggled like a rodent’s.
“It is well you didn’t endeavour to woo the pretty Miss Melyssa tonight,” she said. “Overseer, when was the last time you bathed?”
Elliot winced. The urge to sniff his own clothing was powerful, but he pushed it down for when he was alone. “I-I haven’t had time lately.”
“One must always make time to attend to cleanliness. I will have your promise that you will draw a bath tonight, Elliot. For the sake of our city, I beg.”
“Yes, yes,” he sighed. When Mathilda used his name instead of his title, she was making her displeasure known. Elliot wasn’t fool enough to test her tempered will with rebellion. “I’ll do that as soon as you’re gone.”
“You recall how?”
“Yes, I know how to draw a bath, thank you.”
Mathilda narrowed her eyes up at him. Once she was content that he would be obedient, she stepped away towards the kitchen.
“Young men like yourself are liable to forget the lessons of their mothers once they live alone,” she said as she cleared away their kettle and brushed down the stove. Elliot rolled his eyes, safely outside Mathilda’s attention, and idly scanned the topmost application on his desk instead. “Minds like sieves, and no mistake. What I would give for you to find a decent wife, Elliot, who can remind you of your-…”
Her surprised gasp drew Elliot’s attention upwards, and he started. The office door was open, and a face was peeking around it from outside. Elliot initially believed the newcomer was Melyssa again. She had the girl’s lovely curls of hair, her big eyes and round cheeks. But Melyssa wasn’t cobalt blue on any part of her body, as far as Elliot knew, and this girl was entirely blue. From the tips of her hair to the flesh of her fingers. And from Elliot’s bleary perspective, the texture of her entire shape, even her hair, was the spongy shine of raw gelatine. It was even slightly transparent, letting the lanternlight below the surface. Her eyes were round orbs of dense, black gel with shining, ice-blue irises, and they stared at Elliot from the far side of the office. Also unlike Melyssa, the girl was wearing only a roughshod cloak of burlap loose around her shoulders. The garment parted around her outstretched arm to reveal sapphire nakedness beneath. Her blue feet were bare.
“Oh, my dear…” Mathilda hurried towards the girl with a hand on her chest. “Are you well? You must be cold!”
The blue girl inspected Mathilda with her eyes. When she parted her full lips, she made the shape of her words sluggishly as if out of practice.
“Cold,” she breathed.
“Then come in, please. Please.”
Taking her shoulders, Mathilda eased the girl into the office and closed the door behind her. She fixed Elliot with an uncertain frown over one blue shoulder. Elliot had also never seen a creature like this girl before; she was clearly not human. But that made her business easy to guess.
“Are you here for a certificate of aegis?” he asked her.
The girl stared blankly at him. She tipped her head to one side, causing some spongy strands of hair to bounce against one cheek. But before Elliot could broaden his questions, she said, “Yes.”
“Then why don’t you have a seat with Sir Elliot, dear?” said Mathilda, easing the girl forward. “I will put on some tea. And would you like something to eat?”
The girl sat readily, and Elliot joined her. She leaned across the desk towards him much as Melyssa had done moments ago. Her blue irises were shining, fixed directly on him.
“Hungry,” she said in her breathy voice.
Elliot kept one eye on the girl as he leant back to retrieve blank parchment for recording a certificate of aegis request. He didn’t mind the attention on him, since the blue girl was just as cute as Melyssa but with an exotic, alien addition to her physiology. But he didn’t want to be devoured by one of the kin of humanity, even an attractive one, and this girl’s eyes were making a meal of him.
“Right,” he said. “So. You would like a certificate of aegis to enter the city?”
“City?” she asked.
Elliot frowned. “Layman. The city beyond the walls.”
“Walls, yes.”
“V-Very well. May I have your name?”
The girl was silent. She stared deep into Elliot’s eyes, and Elliot soon realised she wasn’t blinking. He waited with his wet quill hanging over the parchment. And eventually, she answered.
“Sita.”
There was a clatter of crockery from the kitchen. But when Mathilda said nothing, Elliot continued.
“Thank you, Sita,” he said. “Do you have any other names we should be aware of?”
The blue girl shook her head. The swing of her locks was truly uncanny. Weightier, stiffer than human hair with a curious wobble down by the tips.
“And why do you want to enter the city?”
A predictable silence followed his question, but Elliot was used to it now. He held his lips in a patient smile and rested his quill-hand on the wrist of his other.
“I can smell,” said Sita eventually.
“Smell?” he asked. “What can you smell?”
For the first time, the girl smiled. The expression lit up her semi-transparent face like the glass frame of a lamp.
“Food. Tasty. I want.”
Elliot leaned back from his work with a frown. “You wish to enter Layman to… have a meal?”
Sita nodded with enthusiasm. Elliot was afraid she would hit her forehead on the tabletop.
“Any meal in particular?”
“All,” she said, still beaming. “Any.”
“Because we have a number of fine vendors and restaurants here in the Low Town too,” said Elliot.
“I know,” said Sita, staring right at him.
“Then why enter the city specifically? What’s in there that you can’t get here?”
Sita continued to stare. She held her big smile steady much better than Elliot could. And eventually, she shrugged, and her cloak slipped off one shoulder to briefly reveal one blue breast to him. Sita re-covered herself only slowly while Elliot looked away.
“Why don’t we come back to this question?” he said once she was decent. “I think we need a little more detail around your reason for visiting Layman if we want to approve your certificate. But let’s try this, who is your guarantor?”
The girl tipped her head to the side again. This time, she said nothing even after full minutes of waiting.
“Do you have one?” Elliot prompted. “A guarantor is someone supporting your entry to the city. They can help you look after yourself once you’re inside the walls, and we can go to talk to them if you get into any trouble.”
“Master?”
“Oh, you have a… a master?” he asked. “What is their name?”
“Cytonia.”
Elliot wrote the name on his parchment, then tapped the quill nib against the wood of his desk. “That’s a familiar name…”
“She lives out past the south edge of the Low Town,” said Mathilda, who approached the desk with a tray of refreshments. Two steaming cups of tea, plus a plate holding two thick slices of buttered bread. She placed the tray on the table, then folded her arms. “Cytonia claims to be a witch of old renown. And not one of the workhorse witches who preserve foodstuffs and augur the coming weather. I mean the sort with… dark connections. Connections she sells to those pushed to the brink, I-I am sorry to say,” she added with a nervous look down at Sita.
“And if we went to Cytonia, your master,” Elliot asked Sita, “she would approve of your entering the city?”
For once, an immediate answer. Sita shook her head. “She hates me. I went away. She will destroy me.”
Elliot let out a breath and placed his quill on the desk. This strange situation only grew stranger and stranger. As Sita picked up a slice of bread using only her fingertips, he leaned towards Mathilda and lowered his voice.
“Are you thinking what I’m thinking? That she actually wants to enter Layman to hide from her master?”
“That seems likely,” Mathilda replied in the same whisper. “Poor thing. She must be the product of some ritual that got out of that old hag’s hands, one she now seeks to undo. Still…”
“Still,” Elliot agreed, “she doesn’t have the proper paperwork for a certificate of aegis. And even if she did, I wouldn’t want her wandering the Castle Road like this.”
“Sita, dear,” said Mathilda, raising her voice once more. “I have a proposal for you. Why don’t we-…? Oh, my!”
Sita had folded one of the slices of bread neatly in two, and was now feeding it into her mouth. She didn’t chew, simply pushed the bread down her gullet with a contented smile. Then she took the second slice and did the same with that, shoving the first slice deeper with the second.
“C-Careful, that’s hot!” said Mathilda as the blue girl went next for the tea.
But Sita continued to smile as she poured all the tea into her mouth, then replaced the cup on its saucer. Elliot was so bemused by her monstrous gluttony that he didn’t protest when she next took his cup and drained that into her mouth as well.
“Yummy,” said Sita when she had cleared the tray.
“You truly were hungry,” said Mathilda with a nervous chuckle. “As I was saying, why don’t we pay a visit to Madam Lantern down the road from here? She is a very kind woman. I am sure she will have an idea for how we can best help you.”
“That sounds like a good idea,” said Elliot.
Sita looked back and forth between the two of them. Her smile dropped slowly into a long, neutral line. “There is food here,” she said.
“Yes, but food isn’t our business, dear,” said Mathilda. “Paper is our business, and we would rather you didn’t eat that. Dancing by Lantern serves food, and I am sure they can feed you better than we can.”
The blue girl fixed her eyes on Elliot. “Food is here.”
“Better food is there,” he replied. “You go with Mathilda and meet Lantern. I know she’ll look after you.”
Leaving the unfinished paperwork on the desk, he rose and ushered Sita to her feet. The girl’s brow was tight as Mathilda took her shoulders and moved her towards the door. The look she cast back at Elliot was unmistakable betrayal, and it hurt to see.
“I will get her to the Lantern, Overseer,” said Mathilda at the door. “Why don’t you draw that bath while I am gone? I can check that you truly know what you are doing with it.”
Leaning against the support beam in the centre of the office, Elliot rolled his eyes. “I know how to have a bath.”
“You recall where the well is?”
“Yes, mother.”
“You can see it from the kitchen window.”
“Yes, mother! Go on, now!”
They laughed together in a bid to dispel the anxious tension. Sita looked between the two of them one last time, then was eased out the door. Mathilda closed it behind them, and Elliot breathed a sigh of relief.
“Is she like that with you?” he asked the sleeping Jacque.
Jacque mumbled something incoherent, and Elliot laughed again.
But he had barely moved the crockery back to the kitchen when Mathilda returned. Her face was set with a scowl, and she held a bundle in her hands.
“That was fast,” Elliot called. “Was Lantern as hospitable as we thought?”
“I… We didn’t get so far,” the woman replied. “We crossed the intersection together, I looked back… and she was gone.”
Elliot returned to the main office, and he finally recognised the wrapped fabric in Mathilda’s hands. It was Sita’s cloak.
“I could have sworn she was right beside me,” Mathilda said, shaking her head.
“You don’t think Cytonia got her, do you?” asked Elliot.
“I should hope not. But… that woman is awfully sinister. The services she offers… And if she did create poor Sita in some grim experiment, then her name perhaps makes a little more sense…”
“Sita? It’s a pretty name,” said Elliot.
Mathilda gave him a wry smirk. “That it may be. But it is also the old name for grey mould. The pesky kind that grows in your pantry after full days of rain. I believe that may indicate how Sita’s master feels about her.”
They tidied the office in uneasy silence. Elliot stacked the papers for delivery, and Mathilda roused a bleary Jacque to consciousness. She said no more about baths as she helped the apprentice to the door, and the pair took their leave into the night. Elliot sat on his desk in preparation for getting ready for sleep. It had been an odd two weeks. Why not a night like this to cap it off?
A chill on the back of his neck pushed him to motion. Perhaps it was the talk of evil witches, or his grief at Sita’s plight, but he felt like he was being watched. He drew the curtains shut with force.
* * *
Yes, Elliot knew how to draw a bath just fine. So what if the tub was a little dusty? That was no indication of inability or filthiness, he told himself as he sniffed his green coat of office. The reek was barely noticeable.
He set up the tub in its little room on the upper floor of the office, right next to his bedroom. The window in the perfunctory bathroom could be opened a crack to let out steam and keep the wood dry, and he didn’t store anything in here save some neglected bathing items. A heavy stone jug for transporting hot water, a fresh cloth for drying, a satchel of powdered soap. Also, a leather pouch of sweet-smelling herbs that he’d received as a Yule gift from Cassia up in the city proper. Elliot thought adding such a saccharine scent to his bathwater was a little much. But he didn’t want the gift to go to waste, so he sprinkled a few leaves into the empty tub.
Down in the kitchen, Elliot re-lit the stove and set the jug atop it. Then he slipped into the cold night of the office’s rear courtyard. He rubbed his arms as he approached the communal well at the centre of the stone paving. It was a quiet evening, unusual for the Low Town, and the high walls of the surrounding buildings highlighted his isolation from the rest of the world.
If only for that sense of being watched. As he lowered a bucket into the well, Elliot peered at the gloomy corners of the courtyard.
“Hello?” he called quietly.
Naturally, nothing responded. Elliot yanked the full bucket up the line a little faster and retreated into the office.
Delivering hot water to the bath was an ordeal, and this was the main reason Elliot didn’t care for bathing at home. He bore the climb over and over, painstakingly filling the tub one jug of water at a time. On his second trip back down, he’d even worked up a bit of a sweat.
On one such trip, winter’s chill assailed him in the office kitchen. Elliot eyed the door to the courtyard, hanging ajar and letting in the cold. He closed it, then locked it, with an anxious frown. Then he returned to his work.
In the end, filling the bath didn’t take as long as he had envisioned. The tub was nicely full by his third trip up the stairs, with green leaves floating on its surface and steam making wisps in the air. Elliot examined the water in the low lamplight as he disrobed. He ran his hand over the hot water. Cassia’s leaves appeared to have thickened the liquid into something more viscous than unaltered aqua. And the water was darker than it had been in the jug, though that may have been a trick of the light.
Still, Elliot dipped his toe into the bath and found the texture to be pleasant. He’d heard of nobles taking baths in honey; maybe this was what that felt like. He eased into the tub with his hands on the rim, took his seat and sighed with satisfaction as heavy water enveloped him up to his shoulders. He rested his head back and closed his eyes. The heat was pouring into his weary bones and soothing his aching muscles. The fatigue from the past two weeks was already wafting away with the steam. Maybe he should have been taking baths more often.
In the dark behind his eyelids, Elliot thought on the new year, the year that had just begun. He would be travelling to Ilvarith in the spring alongside Castellan Thaddeus and the successful attendants. He would be dancing with the elves. And she would be there, the elven princess Miriham. The woman his birth father had been so close with. The woman, perhaps, who was Elliot’s mother. The stuff of fairy tales and dreams. But in the dreamlike forest of Ilvarith, perhaps. Perhaps…
The water shuddered, and Elliot roused himself, fearing a leak in the base of the tub. And his breath caught in his throat.
There was a head in the water with him. No, the water had formed a head, poking out of the surface up to its eyes. Solid black eyes with icy-blue irises. The head continued to rise, drawing thick water from the edges of the tub as it did, to reveal curled locks of blue hair and a wide, beaming smile.
“This water is tasty,” said Sita. “You are tasty too.”
Elliot let out a startled gasp as the water became dense against his submerged chest. He recognised the shape of hands on his skin, and those hands slid up his collar, out of the water and onto his shoulders. Sita’s fingers slipped around the back of his neck, and her face drew closer to his. She leaned her slimy weight atop him.
When Elliot tried to raise his hands out of the water, he found them stuck. Sita’s body filled the tub and trapped him underneath her. But though she existed in all of the water, she had made herself dense around his body in a familiar configuration. Elliot could feel the shape of breasts on his chest, the shape of thighs straddling his hips, hidden in the blue of the bathwater. Sita enveloped him, surrounded him. She nuzzled his cheek with her lips.
“Tasty!” she gasped. “Sir Elliot… tasty!”
She squeezed him across his whole length, and Elliot finally found his voice.
“Sita! W-Wait!”
“I can smell, past the walls,” she whispered as she embraced him inside her. “I smell many people. A smell like yours. Tasty!”
“Please don’t eat me!” he croaked.
Sita pulled back from his cheek and met his eyes with hers. “Eat you? No.”
“N-No?”
“On your body, there is much food,” she said with a dreamlike smile. “I eat it. Did you want it? I thought people washed to leave it behind, like my master does.”
Elliot stared into her dark eyes. Was she referring to the sweat and grime on his skin, the stuff that had accumulated over two weeks of hard work and made him smell? It certainly didn’t feel like she was dissolving his flesh.
“Master makes me drink from the floor when she is done in her bath,” Sita whispered. “But it’s yummy on your body. It’s… fresh.”
“S-So you just want to… l-lick me clean?” he asked with a mad chuckle.
“Yes.”
“Oh.”
Sita’s gelatinous body was wriggling about to touch every inch of his flesh. She pushed up under his armpits and between his fingers and toes. She was a rubbing, squeezing pressure, warm and rhythmic, all across his body. It felt… nice. Very nice. Like a full body massage. And his tight muscles were telling Elliot just how much they appreciated the attention.
“That’s fine, then,” he said with a sigh of resignation. “You can… eat your fill.”
“Thank you.”
Sita pressed her face into his neck with a contented sigh of her own. Her lips sucked on his skin with intimate kisses. Elliot’s eyes rolled back as he gave himself to her pampering.
“Mmm…” Sita moaned. “Mmmm!”
Elliot’s lips parted, and he let out a groan. It really did feel good. On every part of him.
“Mmm, Sir Elliot,” said Sita. “This part is yummy.”
He shivered as tight pressure surrounded his cock and squeezed. Sita kneaded his penis with her slick form, up and down his shaft and into the folds and wrinkles of his balls. When he wriggled in her care, she let out another moan.
“Yummy…”
Her ministration quickly got Elliot hard. Sita’s body didn’t restrict the rise of his erection. She moulded herself around it. In no time at all, Elliot was at full mast, and Sita was running pressure in waves around him. Sex, he realised with a gasp of desire. They were having sex.
“You are giving it to me,” Sita whispered. “You want me to clean it more?”
“Y-Yes,” he grunted. “Please.”
She nodded against his shoulder. Then she began to rub him harder. Elliot moaned as he was ridden by the blue woman. He rolled his body in her embrace and let her take him. And her slimy form received him. He acknowledged with ecstatic grunts the shape of her thighs across his hips, the shape of her breasts rubbing against his chest. The bizarre, alien shape of a vagina around his throbbing cock.
“S-Sita!” he groaned. “O-Oh, yes!”
“Mmm!” she replied.
The accumulated strain of two weeks was kneaded out of him. Elliot’s muscles tightened around his abdomen as he drew all the stress down into his cock. He let the pumping blue girl astride him take it all away. He let her have it. He let her… have it… all!
Elliot convulsed as he was rocked by a sudden orgasm. Thick semen filled the tight orifice Sita had created for him, load after load, and he bucked his hips to release every drop of it.
“O-Oh, yes!” he grunted as he came. “Y-Yes…!”
He gasped for breath. And atop him, Sita was motionless. She drew back her face and slowly met his eyes with hers. Her wide, startled eyes. For a moment, Elliot worried that he should have warned her first.
“Sir Elliot!” she gasped. “Yummy!”
“O-Oh?”
“You gave me a gift! A tasty gift!” Her beaming smile was all Elliot could see.
“Well… I liked giving it,” he said.
“Really?”
“Yes. That was… a lot of fun.”
“Then give it to me again!”
Sita’s body pumped his cock once more, and Elliot stiffened with a sharp wince and a hiss of breath. His partner ceased her movements immediately.
“Sorry,” he said. “It’s a little sensitive after… g-giving a gift. You have to wait.”
The blue girl tipped her head to one side, peering into his eyes. Down below, Elliot could feel her wet influence gently exploring the flesh of his penis.
“Sensitive?” she asked. “Here?”
“Yes. But maybe if we wait a few…”
He trailed off, staring back at Sita. Her hold on his cock had tightened once more. But this time, it felt good. The sensitivity of his member had returned to a normal, productive level.
“Did you do that?” he asked.
Sita nodded. “I felt what changed inside you, and I changed it back.”
“J-Just like that?”
“Easy,” she said with a proud smile. “Tasty. Now you can give me another gift.”
She didn’t wait for permission. Sita got underway, and Elliot moaned as he was once more assailed by her gooey physiology. His erection, held fast by her pumping body, pushed back to its full height inside her. It penetrated her deeply, and she took it all, cradling it in her flesh.
“Oh, wow!” Elliot sighed. “Oh… yes!”
This time, the blue girl’s lovemaking was hard and vigorous. Her black eyes were big and greedy, and a blue tongue was stuck adorably between her lips. She’d had a taste of his come, she wanted more. And she was a fast learner. Already she knew when to rub him hard and when to slow down. Where to be firm and where to be gentle. She milked his cock with a relentless, mindless efficiency that had him gasping and panting. And all the while, her lovely embrace filled him up with heat. His cock was about the only tense muscle in his body.
Sita’s human shape bobbed in the water atop him. Her breasts bounced at the surface of the bath with an uncanny, inhuman jiggle that he found deeply mesmerising. Her curls of gel-hair danced around her face and bobbed against his cheeks. Elliot didn’t think she needed to be so dynamic with her motions, based on how she felt below the water. He imagined she could manipulate her own vagina with the same dexterity as her stroking fingers. But she had maybe recognised in the stiffness of his cock, the taste of salt on his skin, that he liked the look of her bouncing. Maybe she’d even been designed for sex by her mad master. She’d just never been let off the leash like this before.
It wasn’t long before she had him at the edge once more. Elliot’s body writhed under her thorough ministrations, and his breaths became keen whimpers of ecstatic pleasure.
“Ah-ah-ah!” he cried. “Ah-yes-yesss!”
He slammed his eyes shut as another load of come stained the inside of the liquid girl. This time, Sita dug her fingers into his hair, devouring the grease around his follicles, and she brushed her blue lips with his. She mirrored his plaintive gasping with her own.
“Ohhh,” she moaned. “So… good!”
“Y-Yeah,” Elliot agreed. “Good. Very-…”
Once more, Elliot’s cock was squeezed by Sita’s pussy, and once more, he was primed and ready for sex. Sita pushed her cheek against his and whispered into his ear.
“Again.”
Before he knew what was happening, Elliot was being ridden. Sita clung to him tightly as she rocked her gelatinous form on his cock. She hummed along with the bounce of her body and lapped at the lobe of his ear. She pulled on his erection with bottomless hunger. She absorbed his pre-come and used her rolling body to beg for more.
And Elliot realised he was in peril. His limbs were trapped beneath Sita’s dense weight, and even if he’d had the strength to push up and through her, his muscles had been soothed into compliance by her warm massage. His arms and legs had turned to mush in her care. And that supreme relaxation had even snuggled up his spine to his brain. After two marvellous orgasms, and nestled under the thick blanket of Sita’s pampering, his body had stopped receiving instructions. It was quite happy to be fucked into oblivion.
But Elliot’s mind was a different matter. Sita had gained a taste for come, but he could only produce so much. When his balls were dry, what would she do? Would she put her tongue in his mouth and drink his saliva? Or would she go after his blood? Would she dissolve his meat, even after declaring she had no interest in it? Would her hunger drive her to such lengths? Elliot certainly had no say in the matter.
Elliot’s eyes rolled back as he fought for control of his body. His head was slack, pressed against Sita’s. His shoulders were stuck fast in the blue water. His jaw fell open, and all he could emit from his throat were breathy gasps of pleasure. It was no use. He was going to let her fuck him to death.
His next climax came inevitably after long minutes, maybe even hours of lovemaking. He’d lost track of the time. His existence was counted only by the endless rub of Sita’s alien body. He barely had the strength to shudder as the come painted Sita’s insides. Not much to speak of now, but it still made the blue girl moan with delight. She drank him up through her pussy. Then she held him firm, probing his skin. She parted her lips beside his ear. She prepared to devour him from the beginning again.
And Elliot had one mere moment of control, one instant of a refractory period, where he was himself. He pushed with all his might.
“Stop.”
His voice was weak, a mere gust of breath. But Sita heard him none the less, perhaps through vibrations in his skin. Her pussy fell still around his cock, and her face peeled off his cheek so she could look into his eyes. She wasn’t smiling anymore.
“Why?” she asked.
“B-Because…” Elliot was forced to lick his lips before continuing. “Because I’ll die, Sita.”
The blue girl frowned. “No.”
“I need food. I need sleep. Please, can we stop for now?”
Sita’s pouting was adorable, even as she initially denied his plea. And her pussy was a pleasant pressure around his erection even now. If she didn’t relent soon, Elliot was going to do it first, and then he’d be stuck inside her once more. He didn’t think he’d have the energy to fight her a second time.
“You’ve tasted that I don’t have anything left to give you,” he said with a shaking smile. “Unless you let me rest, I won’t have anything left ever again. Just let me sleep. Please.”
Slowly, Sita let her grip on him slacken. Elliot pulled his arms through her liquid form and planted his hands on the rim of the tub. Then, with aching stiffness, he pushed himself out. Sita watched him go with a sad frown on her blue countenance.
“I have to go and lie down,” he told her, padding naked to the door. “Are you well if I leave you for a few hours?”
“Leave, here?” asked Sita.
“It should stay warm if I close the window. But if it gets too cold, come and find me. I’ll… I’ll do something about it. Is that alright?”
Sita sank below the surface of the tub until only her eyes were visible. She scowled up at him, watching as he closed the window and stepped towards the hallway, saying nothing.
“Good night,” said Elliot. Then he hobbled out the door.
* * *
Elliot’s bedroom was cold, and he shivered as he sought his sleeping clothes. His body was about as warm as it had ever been, but the thick cloth of his shirt and shorts, plus his blanket and bedsheets, were chill. He snuggled under the covers and held himself in a tight curl until his own body heat had warmed the bed. Then he relaxed. He practically melted into the bedding.
What an experience. Elliot’s bones felt like liquid, his muscles slack as twine. He wondered if he’d ever have the strength to get out of bed again. But so relaxed! Worrying about the Elf King’s Ball, the attendant applications, his future in the city or his own mutant existence… It all felt pointless.
And that was all thanks to Sita. She’d not wanted to stop her feeding, which was flattering in a worrisome way. She had taken pleasure in making him feel good. And he felt very good right now. He would have to find a way to repay her in the morning. Maybe a load of his come, provided she was a good girl and kept it to just the one. An idle smile crept across Elliot’s lips as he closed his eyes. He would be asleep in no time.
But the creak of his bedroom door roused him back to wakefulness. He opened one eye. Sita was peeking around the door. Her black eyes were fixed shyly on him.
“That was fast,” said Elliot. “Are you alright?”
“Cold,” she said at once.
He could go downstairs and reheat the stove for some hot water. But Elliot doubted his relaxed body would allow such exercise. Another bout with those stairs? No, thank you!
“Would you like to sleep here with me?”
Sita practically tumbled into the room, wearing another of her wonderful smiles. “Yes!”
Chuckling fondly, Elliot pulled back the covers for her. He watched the naked blue girl crawl along the floor on all fours before pulling herself up onto the end of his bed. She padded towards him on the mattress then sat back on her heels. She looked down on him, her smile faltering.
“What’s wrong?” asked Elliot.
“Sir Elliot… I…”
“Just ‘Elliot’ is fine,” he assured her. “I wouldn’t dream of letting anyone who’s treated me like you did call me ‘Sir’!”
“Elliot… I… am sorry. I didn’t listen.”
He pushed himself up on his elbows. “That’s alright, Sita.”
“You were very tasty, and I was very hungry,” she said, fiddling with her fingers in her lap. “I changed my shape tonight. It took all my energy. So I wanted more and more. I… forgot that you are alive too. But I remember now. I won’t forget again.”
Elliot smiled up at her. “When were you created, Sita? Do you remember?”
She stared in silence for long moments, and Elliot was happy to wait. “Sixteen days,” she said in the end.
“Then it’s no wonder you have a lot to learn,” he said. “You’re brand new. I’m glad I could teach you this little thing about humans. It’ll help when you start living with us properly. O-Or whatever’s best for you,” he amended.
“Here is best,” Sita insisted with a nod. “I can sleep here with you forever.”
“You can sleep here with me tonight. In the morning, I’m taking you to Lantern’s and getting her opinion. She really does know best.”
The blue girl’s face tightened into a petulant scowl, but just for a moment. Then it was returning to a familiar sunny smile.
“Elliot,” she said, “do you like my shape?”
“The shape of your body? It’s very fetching.”
“I thought so. I saw through the window. You let the human who looks like this touch you. I wanted you to touch me, because of your smell. So I made myself look like her so you would touch me.”
She beamed. “It worked.”
“It did,” Elliot laughed. “Melyssa’s very pretty. And now, so are you.”
“Pretty…” Sita moved the word about in her mouth, tasting it. She seemed to like it. “Elliot, if I change the shape, will you want to touch me more?”
“What do you mean?” he asked.
“You gave me lots of food tonight. I can use it to make myself different. Do you want me to be different? Would that make you touch me more than now?”
Elliot licked his lips. “You mean… you could make certain parts of you… bigger?”
Sita nodded, so Elliot reached from under the covers and gingerly ran his fingertips over her bare breasts.
“Could you make these bigger?”
“Yes. Easy.”
“And around here?” he asked, stroking her thighs and squeezing her hips. “Could you make these bits bigger too?”
“Yes. I will do it when we sleep. Then you will touch me more,” said Sita, smiling with pride.
“Great.” Elliot’s mind whirled as it imagined a Sita with huge, bouncing breasts and round, thick thighs. All manner of sensual configurations. The possibilities were endless. Maybe he could keep her a little longer before introducing her to Lantern.
Sita, evidently content she had made amends for her behaviour, wriggled under the covers beside him and pulled them up to her shoulders.
“Elliot, your bed is tasty,” she said.
He laughed, rolling onto his side to face her. “That doesn’t reflect well on me.”
“I like it.”
“Well, good.”
“But cold.”
Elliot shuffled closer to her under the covers. He reached out his arm and draped it across her stomach, and he rested his face on her blue shoulder. “Is this better?”
“Yes,” Sita breathed.
He kissed her blue flesh. She was a creature of slime and mould, subsisting off his grime and sweat and come. So why did she taste so sweet? Elliot ran his hand up from her tummy and cupped her breast. It already felt a little bigger.
“Is… this alright?”
“Yes,” she whispered into the dark. “I like this.”
“I like it too…” Elliot’s fingers played with the point of her nipple. Sita had made it permanently hard, but the tip retained a measure of her uniquely gelatinous, spongy texture. It was fun to rub it.
He snuggled a little closer beside her. She was warm, and that was nice. “Sita, how did you know what Melyssa looked like under her clothes?”
“I saw plenty,” the girl answered.
“Yes, that dress was great. But you didn’t see her nipples, surely. How did you come up with the shape of them?”
Sita puffed up her chest with a proud smile, dimly visible in the dark. “I know a human’s shape. My master showed me in the bath.”
Elliot’s playing fingers stilled. “These… are your master’s nipples?”
She was quiet for a long, contemplative moment before answering. “Do you want to touch my master’s nipples?”
“No,” he said, trying not to think about it. He’d never met Cytonia the witch, but Mathilda had painted a vivid picture.
“Then no, these are my nipples,” Sita answered. “Only mine.”
Elliot laughed. In time, Sita tried to join him. Her laughter was breathy and rhythmic, a copy rather than authentic mirth. But the bounce of her chest under his palm relayed to Elliot that she was genuinely happy. And yes, they were definitely growing.
“You’re amazing,” he sighed against her shoulder. “Amazing, Sita.”
“Elliot, you said you would sleep.”
He ran his thumb over her nipple. “I thought I would.”
“But now you will stay awake with me?”
Sita wriggled her hip against him. Elliot had a fresh erection under his shorts, apparently recovered from his earlier ordeal, and she rubbed it with her spongy flesh. Elliot groaned.
“Yes,” he said. “I can stay up a little longer.”
“Even though you were afraid before?”
“I’m over it,” he whispered.
“Good,” said Sita.
Elliot pulled down his shorts with one hand and exposed himself under the covers. He pushed the head of his cock against Sita’s flesh. The feel of her unique body against his sensitive tip produced a flurry of excitement in his belly. No, he was certainly not afraid of her anymore.
For the moment, his deeply relaxed limbs only allowed Elliot to sleepily rub his erection against her side. He squeezed her breast and kissed her skin. He didn’t have the energy for much more.
“Elliot…”
And then, quite by surprise, he was inside. Elliot’s cockhead slipped into an orifice in Sita’s hip that hadn’t been there before. And when he pushed, he went deeper.
“Wow,” he breathed. “Sita, wow…! Is this alright? I’m not hurting you?”
Sita shook her head, flailing him with her locks of hair. “I like touching you.”
Elliot gripped his slimy partner at her waist, and he pushed his cock into her thigh. He sheathed himself in her blue flesh.
“Sita…” he moaned as he let himself in. “Oh, Sita! O-Oh-…!”
Suddenly, the girl shivered. Elliot felt every inch of her body reverberate with a little pulse of shock.
“Sita?”
“A-A-Ah!” she gasped.
“Are you alright?”
She nodded, one hand over her mouth. “You touched me!”
“I am touching you.”
“No. You touched me. The… The most of me.”
Elliot tentatively pushed again with his cock, and Sita let out another gasp. Sure enough, he was pressing against something firm near the centre of Sita’s body, a spherical organ that was warm to the touch. It had the same gooey consistency as the rest of her form, but it held its shape against his thrust.
“It’s me,” Sita explained. “I make the rest of me around it. My… My…”
“Your core?” Elliot tried. “And it doesn’t hurt?”
She shook her head. “I like you touching me!” she moaned.
With her assent, Elliot continued. He pushed his cock into her body over and over, and each time kissed the solid core at the centre of her with his tip. Sita rewarded him with a familiar squeeze across his length, up and down to maximise her touch, while groaning and sighing with pleasure. The noises were new, and Elliot liked them very much.
“Oh, yes!” he sighed as he fucked her. “Yes! Sita!”
She pressed one hand against his and slipped her other under his neck to hold his shoulder. She anchored herself against him and rode his penetration. “Elliot!” she breathed.
This time, Elliot was fully in control. He hugged Sita with his arms and loved her with his cock. In short order, the chill of the bedroom was utterly dispelled by the pair’s writhing. Sita was tight and wet, slick and warm. She received him dutifully and gratefully, and Elliot did his best to be worthy of her attention by kissing her and stimulating her sensitive core.
“Ah… Ah… Sita!” he moaned. “Oh, yes!”
“M-M-Mmm!” she replied in little yelps of joy. “E-E-Elliot!”
The end was soon upon him. Elliot held tight to his partner and hurried his thrusting, rubbing himself fully within her. Sita clutched at him and milked him of tension. Her hand on his shoulder was a fierce claw. Her other interlocked with his on her hip. She wasn’t consuming him as she had done in the bath. And yet, it felt to Elliot as though they were even closer than that. Merging in spirit and soul.
“Sita! Sita!” he grunted. “S-Sita! Yes!!”
With a squeeze of his limbs, Elliot came inside her. His come splattered against the dense gel of her core and pooled at the back of her bespoke orifice. He pressed his face against her flesh and humped himself dry.
And Sita drank it up. She hummed a long, happy note as she consumed his semen.
“It’s in me!” she sighed. “It’s in me…!”
“Is it alright that it’s… on your core?” Elliot panted.
The girl nodded. “You are in me forever,” she whispered.
They were silent as Elliot caught his breath and Sita recovered her composure. Elliot held himself within her, his cock growing soft in her care. Sita didn’t try to restart him. Elliot didn’t know if he was disappointed or relieved about that.
“Can I stay like this tonight?” Elliot asked. His eyelids were drooping; he’d be asleep in no time. “Can I stay inside you?”
“I like this,” she replied. “You sleep in me, and I will grow. In the morning, you will want to touch me more. You will touch me more, Elliot.”
He chuckled against her flesh. In his imagination, the bouncing ride of her buxom new shape. “I will,” he said. “And then, off to Madam Lantern’s.”
Sita grumbled, which made him laugh.
“Eventually,” he amended. “Once you’re good and fed.”
She ceased her complaints. Sita snuggled against Elliot and hugged him with her arm. “Tasty…”
That night, Elliot dreamed he was swimming in a vast ocean. But he didn’t need to breathe, and the ocean took good care of him. It cleaned his body and soothed his soul. And when he walked out into the chill night, up on the shore once more, he turned and watched the waves coming in. Their rushing voice sang, You’re welcome.
laymenstory
Ewan Stone 
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