Prompt: The Shapeless Seductress (Part 7)

Summary: An exotic dancer is kidnapped by an evil scientist, and is injected with foul serums, rendering her body pliable, soft, and amorphous. She struggles with her new body, sometimes claylike, sometimes gooey, always alien. Commissioned by an anonymous user.

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Part 7

Wanda's rest was oddly serene. Formless and liquid, she could idly stir herself in circles, shifting and folding over herself to get more comfortable. Part of her wondered where her limbs were within her mass, but over time, she stopped carrying... she was too exhausted to pay attention to those lingering thoughts of the horrors of her new body.

Arise, Wanda.

Of course, all it took was the doctor's chilling voice echoing in her head to get her liquid form to curdle. As her form stiffened and shifted on its own accord, she stifled a moan, the sensation of her body rubbing against itself. As it shifted and spilled over the side of her containment tub, she felt her body rapidly reforming.

Her feet were the first to reconstitute, elegantly stepping down onto the ground as her upper body continued to shift from the tub. Yet, as her curves reformed, her form solidified, she didn't let a drop of her oozing form splatter to the floor; it sank into her, bubbling into her torso, her arms, her chest...

Her body, moving on its own in statuesque nudity, approached Blackhart, standing at attention. As the man looked her over with the usual leery look, Wanda's spirits fell... not that it reflected on her face, which solidified into a dull-eyed, stoic stare.

"Good morning, Mr. Blackhart." Words came from Wanda's mouth that weren't her own. She had other choice words for the man, but she was a prisoner in her own malleable body. She arched her back just enough to present her chest, their cup size bubbling up an extra size.

"Very good, responsive..." Blackhart extended a hand to grope the underside of her perky chest. "Now that we've conducted the stress tests, I believe it's time to examine your... performance."

A chill ran through Wanda's body. Her captive mind immediately fretted that this man would take her to his own chamber. She wanted to run, even as her sensuous legs followed Blackhart out of her chamber.

The room that previously housed the stress test exercises had transformed again into a series of connected rooms. There were various obstacles, some more deadly than others. Wanda internally likened the look of everything to one of those game show obstacle courses... with a couple more deadly traps.

Wanda couldn't fully appraise the challenge before Blackhart was in her ear again.

"Begin." He commanded; as if possessed, Wanda burst forward in a sprint, towards a locked steel door; her eyes lowered to the narrow, half-inch-tall gap between the door and the frame. She felt her body sag to the floor, rapidly flattening and stretching itself out; she felt like she was sliding, but as her body expanded against the cool floor, she felt herself pressing through the narrow gap.

Just as soon as her oozing form popped out on the other side, she was already stretching upward towards the vents above, forming an elegant glossy curve. She slithered through the cramped vents, undulating forward around a bend and popping back to the ground; though her amorphous form splattered, it quickly reformed itself, and Wanda stood up again.

She found herself staring down the puzzle of a semi-automatic machine gun, swivelling like a turret. It aimed at her and, RATATATATATA, opened fire. Wanda moved forward with purpose as bullets pierced through her body,  leaving holes across her body that would rapidly close on their own, strands of biomass sinking back into her flesh. Part of her vision was distorted as several bullets sailed through the right side of her head, but quickly reformed.

She lashed an arm out, a doughy mass closing around the gun, wrestling it from the platform; with the muzzle of the gun protruding from her arm, she took aim at a metal plate behind it, opening fire. When a wide circle of bullet holes lined the wall, she crunched the gun in her grip, cast it aside, and rushed forward, drawing back an expanding fist...

CRASH!! With a powerful swing, she caused the metal wall to break open, a circular opening created into the next chamber... a hallway lined with laser grids. It would've taken an experienced expert in infiltration and espionage to carefully weave between the narrow gaps between the lasers...

But Wanda elongated her torso, an elastic creaking punctuating her movement, deftly weaving through the maze, up, down, bobbing side to side. As if twisting like a snake, her torso twisted to avoid the lasers moving back and forth. She pressed herself paper thin to slide between lasers, all the while getting closer to a control panel...

She pressed her hand down hard on the panel; coinciding with a whirring sound, the maze powered down, and the rest of her body caught up to her, her body snapping back to her proper proportions.

At the end of the hall was a singular mannequin. Prone and still, it stared forward with glassy, listless eyes. Wanda tensed the fingers of her arm; they flattened, pressed together, and shifted, a killer edge forming along their edge as they narrowed to a single point. She drew back her arm and thrust it forwards and up!

KCHNK! Wanda came to a stop. The mannequin's head tilted upwards as a tan-hued blade pierced through its jaw, up through the back of its head. Her arm had shifted into a terrible blade and, as time slowed to a crawl, the surrealness of the high energy feats she had performed weighed on her, culminating in the image of her blade, her own hand, drawn to pierce another person.

BRRRT. An alarm blared shortly. Blackhart clapped his hands.

"What a remarkable performance, Wanda." Blackhart grinned. "A record time through my little obstacle course."

Wanda could feel control of her body return to her. The anxiety welling up again. She could feel herself breaking into what she assumed was a cold sweat. She watched as her blade arm began to lose its solidity, oozing through the two holes she had made on the mannequin.

"I... what did I just..." Wanda, in her own words, questioned herself, the feats she had just performed.

"You followed your programming." Blackhart explained. "Your body is a slurry of artificial biomass and nanite circuitry... one could say you're more gynoid than girl."

Wanda's weakness washed over her once again. She was melting, collapsing over herself. She sprawled herself over the mannequin, trying to firm up her legs as they oozed into a puddle. Why could she only stay solid when Blackhart was controlling her. As his footsteps echoed behind her, and as the vibrations reverberated through her soft being, Blackhart brushed back her oozing hair to whisper into her ear.

"This is your function Wanda..." Blackhart smiled darkly. "...as a shapeshifting assassin."

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