I became the slime toy of the evil dragon girl?

As the sun set behind the mountains, darkness fell over the dragon's nest.

Ian was lying on the pile of gold coins when Vivian asked if she wanted a pair too.

Iris then entered a frenzied creative state, shouting that she wanted black, white, red, purple, long, short, and medium-length things for Vivian.

Then the two of them crawled into the back.

Ian wanted to sneak away to check on his freshly fired cement.

But the two women ordered him to stay, insisting that Ian come and appreciate the new art…

……

Just then, a slightly cheerful sound of footsteps came from afar.

Ian looked up, and then... stared in disbelief.

Vivian emerged from the depths of the treasure vault.

She changed into a new black tulle skirt, which looked like it had just been hand-made by Iris. The skirt hem only reached above her knees, revealing a small portion of her thighs.

The black fabric, as thin as a cicada's wing, stretched upwards from the toes to the absolute territory.

The light inside the dragon's nest was dim, but the stockings shimmered with a faint glow, as if shrouded in a thin mist.

Vivian stepped on the gold coins.

With each step, the stockings rubbed against the gold coins, making a soft rustling sound. The sound was faint, but exceptionally clear in the quiet dragon's nest.

Ian's gaze involuntarily followed the moving legs.

In his past life, he had seen countless photos of leg models online. Those meticulously edited pictures, perfect lighting, professional poses.

But none of those compare to what's in front of us.

It's not because my legs are straighter or whiter, although they are indeed straight and whiter.

Vivian possessed a powerful aura mixed with girlish innocence, yet she wore black stockings that represented ultimate seduction. Her toes would playfully curl, the stockings would tighten, and the muscles in her calves would ripple slightly with each step.

Realism.

The impact of realism is a hundred times stronger than any picture.

Ian's tentacle twitched.

Then he realized what he was thinking and quickly looked away.

Vivian walked up to him, stopped, and looked down at him.

"Little Ian."

Ian tried to keep his voice calm: "Hmm?"

Vivian stretched one foot out in front of him.

Feet clad in black stockings.

Her toes were rounded, and her pearly toenails could be vaguely seen through the thin stockings. Her arches curved lazily, and her heels were so smooth they reflected light.

Ian stared at the foot and found himself unable to look away.

"Look," Vivian said.

Ian: "...What are you looking at?"

"This." Vivian playfully curled her toes, the tips of her stockings tightening, revealing a glimpse of flesh, as if trying to break free from the black confinement.

That thin, almost transparent texture makes every movement seem almost imperceptible...

A thought suddenly popped into Ian's head: Now I finally understand why places like "Porridge Bars" exist. Fellow forum members, I've got it!

However, I am much worse off than them. I can touch it, but I can't appreciate it in a normal way.

Because it turned into a slime. A useless lump of jelly.

Ian sighed inwardly.

"Is it pretty?" Vivian asked.

Ian looked up at her. What did that mean?

Vivian looked expectant, as if she was waiting for an answer.

But Ian knew that regardless of whether she meant anything else, his answer would be the same.

"It's absolutely beautiful! Jade!"

Vivian nodded in satisfaction and withdrew her foot.

Then she squatted down in front of Ian, resting her chin on her hands and looking at him.

"Little Ian."

"Um?"

"I want...you to give me a massage."

Ian paused, then asked, "Now?"

"Mmm." Vivian nodded. "After Iris put it on me this afternoon, I tried it on and touched it myself. It's so smooth."

She reached out and touched her calf. The stockings slid gently under her fingers, making a soft rustling sound.

Ian twitched. This dragon girl really was using the slime as a massage device.

But... I simply couldn't refuse!

"Hesitant mouth!"

……

Vivian lay down on the pile of gold coins.

But she didn't just lie down as usual. She first looked around, then shifted her position, stretching her legs out and crossing them on a pile of rubies.

That pose seemed vaguely familiar to Ian.

It seems like the cover girls of fashion magazines in my past life all liked to pose like this.

He couldn't help but take another look.

Black stockings encased the calves, one overlapping the other. Rubies were piled up beside the legs, the contrast between red and black particularly striking.

Vivian looked down at her legs, then looked up at him.

"Will this work?"

"……OK."

Ian stretched out his body.

The dark blue gel began to devour Vivian from her toes.

The sensation of the stockings came immediately.

Ian's mind went blank.

Different.

Really different.

It was smoother and finer than direct contact, as if there was an invisible film separating them, yet so thin it was almost nonexistent. The texture of the stockings rubbed against his gelatinous body, creating a subtle, gritty sensation. That sensation traveled along his tentacles throughout his body, causing his gelatinous form to tremble slightly.

Ian's tentacles paused for a second, inwardly berating himself:

Calm down, calm down. You're a slime. You don't have any of those messy desires. You're just getting a massage, that's all!

Vivian looked down at him: "What's wrong?"

Ian tried to keep his voice calm: "...It's nothing. I'm just thinking about how to press it for the best effect."

"Then take your time thinking about it." Vivian lay back down. "No rush."

Ian continued upwards.

The instep, ankle, and calf are covered with a gel.

He could feel the texture becoming clearer and clearer. The fine mesh, the elasticity of every inch, and the angle at which it conformed to his skin were all transmitted to his senses through the gel-like substance.

He could clearly feel that the stockings were stretched the tightest at the calves, because that's where the curves were fullest.

Every inch is different.

Every inch is crystal clear.

"Ian, why are your tentacles so hard today?" Vivian suddenly asked curiously.

"I think I've figured it out..." Ian replied helplessly, trying hard to control himself.

He continued upwards.

The gel slowly enveloped the knees and thighs.

The feel of stockings on the thighs is different. The skin there is softer, and the texture of the stockings is deeper. The two sensations blend together, making it hard to distinguish which is which.

Vivian's breathing changed. It became slower and deeper.

Ian began to create subtle vibrations on the gel-like surface.

The vibrations started from the soles of my feet and traveled upwards along the curves of the stockings. Every inch of skin was touched, and every point where the stockings touched my skin was gently pressed.

Vivian closed her eyes.

Her fingers unconsciously gripped the gold coins beneath her.

"Um……"

The sound was very soft, very long, and very gentle.

Ian continued to tremble.

The tactile sensation of the stockings was magnified countless times. The fine mesh gently rubbed against the skin with the vibration, and the direction of every thread, the density of every mesh, and the temperature transmitted through the stockings to every inch of skin were all as clear as under a magnifying glass.

"No...slow down...I mean..." She couldn't finish a sentence.

Ian looked at her face.

Her delicate face was now burning red. The redness spread from her cheeks to her ears, and from her ears to her neck. Her golden, vertical pupils were half-closed, the pupils slightly dilated, her eyes watery, as if veiled in mist. She bit her lip, her lower lip turning white, as if she were enduring something. Her long black hair was scattered among the gold coins, blending with the gold and silver jewels, making it impossible to tell which was brighter.

Ian's gaze shifted downwards.

The legs, encased in black stockings, were taut and straight. The muscles in the thighs trembled slightly, the lines of the calves were taut, and the toes were curled up, making the stockings even tighter, almost revealing the faint blush on the skin beneath.

He suddenly remembered what Lu Xun once said: "The end of black stockings is not sexiness, but instinct."

He didn't understand at the time.

Now he understands.

Ian's body moved again.

This time, it wasn't a massage; it was an instinctive reaction.

"Um……!!"

Vivian's body tensed up abruptly.

Then it softened.

Completely softened.