How To Care For Your Slime Girl

You didn't expect your drawn-out Friday night to be so... eventful.

You were drawing yourself a hot bath to soak in after a long work day, but when your ringing phone from your bedroom pulled you away for just a minute (a nosy telemarketer, of all people), you found her in her bath tub when you came back into the bathroom.

Voluptuous and clearly woman-shaped, translucent curves gleaming under fluorescent light, she shifted as though made of living jelly, rippling shoulders hunched forward as she pressed the nozzle of your shampoo bottle to her lips, greedily lapping at the fragrant contents like nectar.

You knew about slimes—everyone did. Aquatic pests of the modern age, clogging drains, backing up pipes, stinking up reservoirs. They weren’t dangerous, not really, but they were treated like nuisances, exterminated without hesitation. You’d heard rumors of the mimicry: slimes in cities shaping themselves after the humans they observed... But this was the first time you’d ever seen one, and the sight of it perched in your bathtub was something uncanny.

Your eyes flicked over through the opened bathroom door, to the shelf in your bedroom. A book sat there, spine dusted but legible—How To Care For Your Slime Girl, 4th Edition, the gag gift from a co-worker last Christmas. Meant as a joke, you thought at the time.

Armed with book in hand, this Slime was now your responsibility... What you decide to do with her was entirely up to you.