So I Found a Hot Spring in a Cave
A few weeks later on my off day, I decided to go for another hike.
So of course I was disappointed when I got there and found a sign posted saying that particular trail was closed off due to a landslide.
Maybe, I wondered, I could go down to the creek and try to find a secluded area and some water slimes...or maybe, if I went deeper into the woods, to where it was quieter, I might even be able to find tree slimes.
The forest was beautiful, late-morning sunlight streaming through the trees, and birds calling back and forth. It was quiet; I didn't hear a single other hiker or camper, though I passed a vacant campsite with the remains of a recent-looking fire in the fire pit, and the trashcan still full.
And then I found the ruins.
But now, as an adult, I looked at it in the daylight and felt completely neutral.
Thousands of years ago, people had lived in the forest. Every now and then, a burial mound or carved ceremonial stone would turn up; or some hikers would find the foundations of a building, or something. Then the government would send historians, who would assess it, put up a plaque, and have a ceremony about it...and then everyone would just get used to it, seeing it as something so old it was permanent, even if we didn't even know what it was. It was a nice feeling, sometimes, being right next to such old, old things.
I pulled out my phone, snapped some pictures, and then continued in.
I paused, hoping no one was squatting there and I wasn't about to walk in on someone taking a bath in an oil-drum or anything. But when I stood still and listened, the place was completely silent.
I snickered. Maybe if it was, I could ask the deity for a slime. Or an orgasm.
But seeing the naked people only reminded me of the goal of my quest...which was to find, and fool around with, a slime. Several slimes, I added mentally, if I was lucky.
Finally, I turned a corner and saw a huge stone archway stretching upwards, carved again with more beautiful reliefs of nature designs.
Suddenly the shampoo smell made perfect sense. It was a hot spring! The place must have been a bathhouse, in ancient times...and someone must have sneaked in there and taken a bath, only a little while before I got there.
The whole area was lit by several big crystals of enchanted sunstone, which glowed from sconces high up on the walls. A few of the lower ones had been stolen, which was stupid, I thought-anyone with a rune etcher and a half-decent spell book (or website) could just make their own. I shook my head. Some people just wanted to steal because they liked the thrill, I guess.
The bath itself was carved directly into the granite floor-a knee-high stone wall-seat ran around the pool, with an opening at either end where there were some granite steps. Remnants of beautiful floor mosaic tiles in red, yellow, and white chips showed here and there against the gray stone. The baths had been carved down, like a series of knee-high-steps of graduating depth, until they were about five feet deep at the deepest part. In the center of the deepest part of the pool there was an elaborately-worked brass grate, made to look like a cluster of swirling water grasses, somehow still bright and shiny as a new penny after hundreds and hundreds of years. It looked like it was bolted directly into the rock, and I could see little bubbles well up from underneath it.
The hot springs seemed to beckon, and since I knew I'd come up through the only entry there was, no one else was around.
The steps into the water were warm, the granite underneath my feet pleasantly rough as I tiptoed over it. I dipped one toe into the water and flinched, but sighed a moment later-it was just slightly hotter than a normal bath.
For a long time I just drifted there, sometimes stretching out my legs, sometimes doggy-paddling around, until finally I climbed back up to the highest step leaned back comfortably against the stone wall.
I jerked all over with a little squeal, and looked down into the water and saw what looked like some kind of water weed or plant-connected to a long, fat body that that was vaguely jellylike, a pale, leafy green, translucent...
The slime, of course, did not respond; I stuck my hand under the water and reached out to touch the tendril it had wrapped around my foot.
I'd done my research, this time. I knew this was a type of water slime. Typically these little guys lived in rivers and creeks and lakes, either in the shallows or at the bottoms, chilling out and photosynthesizing. Some of them could even digest pollutants; some were pretty colors or even made floating flowers. For a little while, they were almost as trendy as those marimo moss balls from overseas-but their popularity was checked by their bad habit of escaping and then ruining people's plumbing if their water wasn't perfect.
I bit my lip and scooted lower in the water, spreading my legs and nudging the slime with my other foot.
I made a little noise of pleasure; the slime bobbed up to the surface with a soft noise of displaced water. Up close, I could actually see that its green 'skin' was translucent, and the color was actually made of little green globules suspended inside its clear body. It was strange and beautiful.
"Glad we're on the same page," I murmured, smiling. I sat back a little, enough to shimmy my panties down a little bit to expose myself. As I did, I saw a thread of my pussy juice-thick and viscous and whitish, this time of month-stretch between my pussy and panties, down into the water before dissolving.
In another moment it was slipping the tentacle's smooth tip into my pussy and feeling around like it was investigating its new home. I wanted to spread my legs wider, but my panties had me trapped, and the wet cotton had rolled up and wouldn't budge any farther down my thighs. All I could do was hang onto the edge of the stone seat and try to keep my breath steady, as I felt my pulse pick up.
I spent the entire drive there squirming in my seat in anticipation, hoping I'd be able to spot...and of course play with...some more slimes.
I doubled back, down to the main path, and took another trail.
Buoyed up by the promise of squishy fun, I hurried down the path, checking my map every now and then.
It had rained the night before, so the ground was still wet in some places, and the earth was giving off the clean smell of petrichor and pine trees, and the hike was quickly turning into a beautiful event in and of itself.
Of course I knew they were there; everyone knew they were there. I'd heard, over the years, that it was everything from an ancient temple dedicated to some forgotten deity, to a place where devil-worshippers went to perform ritual sacrifices. I'd been equally terrified, and curious about, of the place as a kid; there was something just innately scary about a beautiful old building that was clearly long-abandoned.
The 'building' was actually carved directly into the granite face of a large, rising cliff. Between two pillars carved with ancient reliefs of deer and tall grasses, the empty doorway seemed to yawn open.
The floor inside was made of triangular granite tiles, dark and light, arranged in a repetitive pattern over the floor. The walls were carved gray stone, and smoothed over many years to a dull, soft gloss by the touch of untold numbers of hands. The entry hall was surprisingly light and airy: when I turned around, I could see there were actually tall, narrow triangular 'windows' cut into the stone, very high up.
The ruins were pleasantly warm, compared to the breezy forest outside, so after awhile I took off my jacket and tied it around my waist. There was also a mild humidity in the air, and a faint smell, almost like shampoo.
After that, I calmed back down. I spent a long while just wandering around, admiring the stonework. Here and there, about six feet up, there were carved reliefs showing all the ancient peoples apparently walking down the same hall...and stripping out of their clothes. I wondered if maybe the place was some kind of ancient sex temple.
Someone had carved crude modern graffiti penises underneath a section of mural showing people clearly washing their private parts; I had to snicker, not least because the thousand-year-old dick carvings were much, much better than the recent ones, but because several other people seemed to have thought so, too...the modern graffiti had been scratched and chipped through in several places.
I kept walking, passing a few large, empty chambers, one of which had hexagonal cubbyholes carved in the walls, and grooves in the floor where benches must have once stood: these looked like some kind of ancient locker-room or changing room.
Through the elaborately-carved stone doorway I found a huge pool of steaming water, in the middle of the high, round chamber.
"Well, whoever you are," I said, "I'll keep your secret if you keep mine..."
The light was about as bright as an indoor pool, though, and very nice; the humid air made the whole place feel cozy, like the hot tub room at a pool or spa. I could see how the ancient people could have loved coming here for gatherings and just hung out in the bath all day, and why it was decorated so beautifully.
I snapped a few pictures on my phone, marveling at how beautiful everything was, and puzzling over what little remained of the mosaic on the floor. I had begun to feel a little bit bummed about my fruitless slime-search, but this almost made up for it.
I figured I was hot and sweaty, and a little dip wouldn't hurt...so I stripped down to my bra and panties, folded my clothes and then put them on the carved stone lip of the ancient bath.
In another moment, before I could start to doubt myself, I stepped down into the water, feeling it part around my thighs in hot, rippling currents. When it was up to my ribcage I waded farther in, and sat down on one of the large submerged steps.
I must have dozed off, because the next thing I knew, something was touching my foot.
"A slime! Oh my gosh, am I glad to see YOU!" I said.
It seemed to be covered all over in fat little nubs of 'hair' that felt like short, fat little gummy worms, and it responded to my touch by wrapping more around my leg and climbing up my thigh, and gently squeezing.
I glanced at the entryway of the baths, my pulse speeding up. But as hard as I listened, I couldn't hear anyone else. And of course, the parking lot had been almost empty when I'd pulled in-only the ranger's jeep, an RV, and one other car. The hiking trails being closed must have meant that this place was going to stay quiet all day.
It seemed to take my hint, crawling further up my thigh, until it found their junction at my crotch.
And it had begun gently probing at my crotch with one nubby tentacle.
The slime seemed to shiver all over, and the tentacle caressing my thigh rushed towards my pussy, laving back and forth quickly. The nubs all over it moved independently, like dozens of squishy little fingers wriggling around, and I had to cram my knuckles into my mouth to avoid yelling at the sudden, ticklish pleasure.