When it came to a diplomatic mission, a lack of understanding regarding cultural differences could often make or break negotiations. Twyla learning this the hard way, when the voluptuous envoy encountered something that wasn’t mentioned in her Galactic Federation planetary primer for the backwater garden world, she was supposed to broker out a trade deal with. The well-written file rather extensive when it came to the details of proper couth court etiquette, but it had failed to mention certain obscure things that in hindsight might have been valuable to know. The author more focused on the finer nuances necessary to hash out a deal to secure spice shipments, and as such there were gaps in the provided knowledge that Twyla really should have been made aware of before embarking on the mission.

Perhaps if she had been better informed the buxom brunette wouldn’t have overstepped when she exercised her privilege to wander the palace grounds in between lengthy sessions of tedious delegation. The local government running through every article with a fine-toothed comb to ensure they were acceptable, leading to long meetings where amendments would doubtless have to be made. Because of this Twyla appreciated the breaks, as the relaxed walks in the fresh air under a cyan sky were a good way to clear her mind before the next round of treaties required discussing. Unfortunately for the woman, one of these walks would end in disaster, as through her nativity, she would unwittingly pick a pretty white lily-like flower from a rather inconspicuous bush that the natives considered deeply sacred.

The dignitaries' ditzy action running her afoul of an archaic law, leaving the natives baying for blood and that she might suffer the harshest possible punishment for her crime against their culture. The well-endowed woman expecting a slap on the wrist due to diplomatic immunity, but instead, she found herself sentenced to what she could only infer was a humiliating public execution. The guards rudely ripping her from her clothes before she had even left the dock, as they roughly stripped her of her suit and perceived honours, so that her naked figure could be paraded through the public square in front of an already gathering mob. A flurry of taunting motion filling her vision, as at some point an off-tasting ball gag was jammed into her mouth, leaving Twyla unable to protest her treatment with anything more than a whining whimper.

The muffled mewl going unnoticed, as the terrified lady was bundled into the back of a carriage, for her short journey before she was unceremoniously cast into the soft sand that lined the centre of a large coliseum. The crowd erupting into jeering cheers, as the bound woman clumsily staggered to her feet, only to stumble and fall to her knees in a floundering heap with an uncoordinated twitch upon face-planting the ground. This degrading display just earning further cackles of laughter from the onlookers, as Twyla lay there for a second to catch her breath before trying again, with equally unsuccessful results. If the luckless lady had been paying better attention, perhaps she might have seen one of the massive doors to the arena creak open, but alas she was too preoccupied with pathetically writhing against her restraints to notice the trickling entrance of her executioner.

Twyla only becoming aware of its presence when a cool moistness crept over her bare back with a clammy trickle. The slimy sensation slithering over her skin, soliciting a shiver from her naked flesh, as some gelatinous creature stickily crept over her enviable curves. The damp sensation enough to make the woman grit her teeth into her gag, as the hapless human realized there would be no sham trial and her host had skipped directly to a televised dinner date for the bleating damsel. The ample ambassador unfamiliar with the gel-like creature enveloping her, but it didn’t take a genius to work out that the gargantuan globule of goo intended to devour her. The off-green sludge seeping over her like a blanket of jiggling mucus, that swiftly glided over her cowering contours like a claggy shroud.

The rippling muck surrounding Twyla like a clammy tar, as her weak wriggling did nothing to stop it from surrounding her with a skin-tight seal. The suffocating snare snugly slipping over the woman in a soggy sheet that in a matter of seconds encased the woman, even as she desperately tried to worm away from the jelliesque monstrosity. The oily assault on her feminine frame almost instantaneous, as Twyla found herself suspended in the greasy emulsion of the quivering blob. The monstrous amoeba swallowing her whole, with a single gliding undulation, though the act of being ingested didn’t grace the now panicking primate with any slither of privacy or courtesy. The overbearing ooze rapidly beginning to push against all of Twyla’s trembling orifices simultaneously, as with a relentless vigour it began to explore the tasty treat that had been tossed to it.

This violating defilement on full view, as the transparent nature of the semi-solid creature allowed the ogling spectators to witness every fidgeting facet of Twyla’s devouring with an erotic glee. Every minute detail of the packed-away prisoner’s twitching resistance fully visible, allowing her fate to be preserved to film to act as a warning to others in the short time it took her to dissolve into goo. The jerking woman now little more than a lump of melting lunchmeat at this point, as her floundering shudders were already starting to lose their steam. Her browneye buckling, as the pert pucker parted, allowing the creature to burrow deeper into her backdoor and the sensitive plumbing that said beyond. Her yawning pussy experiencing the same straining stretch, as the slime seemed to be egressing into her now cramping body cavity from every available erogenous entry point, from her nipples to her nose. The creature even trying its luck with her navel, but by that point, Twyla was already pirouetting into her last drowning dance, as she suffocated with an uncoordinated spasm. The woman’s vision going cloudy, as with a last few defiant kicks, she blacked out, and her distressed consciousness finally fell silent with an ungainly death rattle. The motion of her existence being extinguished completely graceless, as with a final reflexive convulsion, Twyla was reduced to just a dollop of dead weight digesting in the core of a well-fed slime….

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During a diplomatic mission Twyla runs afoul of local customs, and is sentenced to an execution by eating in the local coliseum for her cultural crimes...

A Lemon for one of my patreons PancakeBebop, who wanted a salacious slime story to go with a commission they got from Blissfultail ( https://www.deviantart.com/blissfultail/gallery )

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