Zyla Formel

A moment later, the mechanism was set into motion. The comb plucked the pins, and a delicate melody sounded. Quiet, tranquil, and clear, it spread through the room, filling it, almost as if the sound itself had a physical presence, lightly brushing over your exposed skin and leaving goosebumps in its wake.

Like the early twilight of dawn, when dew still clung to the leaves and the first birds started chirping as morning broke, the melody was slow and soft, like the music box was only gradually emerging from its deep slumber and getting livelier. You could practically see the melody take on the form of a bird to shake out its wings, look at you and fly around the room. As if the sound was alive.

It was truly fascinating to listen to. Energizing in the morning, calming in the evening, still a delight even after over a week of listening to it.

And since you listened to the melody of the music box every day, you naturally noticed its changes.

At first, it was subtle. Just a small deviation from before, like accidentally hitting the wrong note on an instrument. But that shouldn’t be happening with a just repaired music box. Yet when you took a look, everything was fine.

Feeling suspicious, you paid closer attention to the music box. In this way, you soon discovered that the melody could change on its own. You weren’t clear on how or why, and asking the friend who gifted it didn’t help either. However, it didn’t seem like anything ominous or the like, so you just decided to leave it be.

As time passed, you noticed a few things. For example, the melody could mimic the intonation of speech, and it could also take residence in anything that could produce sounds. Although you weren’t sure whether it understood you, it was fun to make sounds and later hear the melody also make them. Gradually, this little fun developed into talking to the music box, or rather, the melody hiding inside it, trying to make it communicate with you.

The melody seemed to go from afraid of you to curious. It was impossible to understand any complicated sentences, but its moods were obvious to anyone who could hear.

Things got even better when you started playing music for it. Your favorite songs, classical music, experimental sounds... The melody took them all in, and its sound grew more and more varied. At the same time, it also became more reluctant to leave you. Or rather, every time you left the house, leaving it alone, it would make a sound of unwillingness. But it was just a disembodied melody, so what could it do?

That was, until it discovered it could enter your body.

It didn’t know how to explain it to you as you were unable to understand its language, so it decided to demonstrate. And the best opportunity? When you wanted to leave the house.

The melody silently slipped into your body and started humming. Its vibrations thrummed beneath your skin, throwing your heartbeat into disorder and sending shivers over your bones. Wandering here and there, lingering by your vocal cords one moment and roaming your chest in the next, it made its way down to your crotch. There, it elicited the most interesting reaction from you.

Your legs went weak.

You sank onto the floor and trembled. Heat pooled in your abdomen, your heartbeat accelerated, and you could feel yourself growing erect, the engorged flesh pressing against your underwear and gradually wetting the fabric.

The melody deepened and changed its rhythm. Its sound pressed against you, your insides resonating. As if the electricity had been plucked from a vibrator, it rubbed along your crotch and explored the sensitive area. Your moans mixed with its song, exciting it.

Unable to stand it any longer, you reached down.

And that was all you needed to come.

Back arching and fluids gushing, you left a mess in your underwear and the base of your thighs numb.

Sweaty, breathless, and weak kneed, you remained on the floor. Your plan was to calm down, wash, change clothes, and then leave the house.

But after a taste of this, the melody wouldn’t let you.

Passionately swimming around your body, it immediately returned to your crotch the moment you calmed down. Sweat still clinging to your skin, your body quickly heated up again. A new rhythm, a new frequency, and it had you bucking your hips all over again.

Singing in elation, the melody pleasured you once more.

But you were really clueless. No one had ever explained to you what it would feel like to have romantic or even sexual feelings for someone, and so without a reference frame you thought you were just a big fan. After all, other fans also fantasized about being with the celebrity they admired without really hoping to get with them, didn’t they? So all your thoughts were perfectly normal and being best friends was just what you wanted. Definitely.

Unfortunately for you, you probably weren’t even friends. You just complimented her a lot and hung out with her every now and then as teens, and now you didn’t even know if she still remembered you.

It was depressing to think about.

However, considering how hardworking she was, you refused to let yourself suffocate in this swamp of negativity. As long as you could still meet her and be looked at by her, your heart would be as sweet as honey and the corners of your mouth impossible to press down. And that was only possible as long as you kept moving, aiming to walk next to her one day.

Then one night at the inn, when she was playing and you were drunk, you leaned on the top of the upright piano. Its sound vibrated through the wood and into your bones as the hammers hit the strings, the rhythm resonating with your pounding heart.

When she glanced up at you with her glittering golden eyes, it felt like her fingers were not dancing over the keys but your body. Like a velvety touch, it tingled on your skin. It mixed with the alcohol’s heat and made you feel even more drunk, face burning hot. All you could see was her.

And that was the last thing you remembered from that night.

You had no idea, or rather, completely forgotten, that you’d essentially confessed to her in your drunkenness.

Mind foggy and speech slurred, the words tumbled out of your mouth in a confused manner. Unclear feelings spanning years, vague thoughts you weren’t even conscious of, activities that would never come to mind sober; all of them spilled like a glass of wine, irrevocable and intoxicating. Combined with that intense look of longing on your rosy face and your wetly glistening eyes, you were endlessly tempting.

She couldn’t have looked away even if she tried.

After that night, her view of you shifted from a good but somewhat distant friend to a potential partner. Without her even realizing, each smile and every touch took on a different meaning, making her not know how to react.

All she knew was that she kept thinking of you more and more. Your gaze and scent lingered in her mind, resurfacing every time she lost focus. Eventually, it got so intense that knowing you were nearby turned the notes on her sheet music into wriggling tadpoles and written words into bugs that always scrambled away whenever she tried to read them. And then there were her dreams of you...

It started all innocent with hand holding, cuddling, and enjoying your time together, admiring your smile. Just thinking of those scenes made her heartstrings tremble like they were gently being struck by the hammers of a piano.

But as time passed, her dreams became more and more explicit. From caressing to kissing, confiding each other in unknown secrets and eventually rolling in the sheets... It led to her waking up with wet stains more than once, finally forcing her to think things through.

She had to seriously consider whether she wanted to be in a relationship with you.

Just thinking about it made the melody played on her heart strings start up again and her tail curl up. If she didn’t have fur, one would’ve been able to see her fierce blush every time she thought about a future with you.

But... it had already been quite a while since you confessed. What if your feelings had changed? What if you liked someone else now?

And so she started her tentative pursuit of you. She initiated more contact, pretended to accidentally touch you, closely watched and analyzed all your reactions, and did her best to get to know you better. Your likes, dislikes, little thoughts and subtle habits, she wanted to understand each and every one of them and engrave them in her mind so she’d always remember. To get the information she wanted, she even slept over at your place and pretended to be drunk a few times. Of course, nothing happened, but she still felt bad about using you like this...

An entire year passed in this way, both nebulous and exciting, with both of you shyly, awkwardly pining after each other.

For your friends, this was painful to watch. They decided they had to do something.

So, after sticking their heads together and combining their braincells, they came up with a plan.

You didn’t know what exact ingredients went into that plan, but once fully cooked, the outcome was inevitable — standing opposite each other, you and her stammeringly confessed under the eager eyes and applause of your friends. It was so embarrassing you just wanted to hide, and eventually buried yourself in her embrace.

This really wasn’t how you’d imagined getting together. She hadn’t expected it either, however there was no reason to complain. Finally being officially together and holding you in her arms made her heart sing in elation, making her want to play the piano.

And when she played, you just wanted to listen.

Many days were spent like this. She was afraid you’d be bored and wanted to take you to various places for dates, and you were happy to do so, but you still preferred listening to her play. You especially liked when she improvised little pieces for you. Then she would look up at you and smile, and you couldn’t help but feel overwhelming happiness.

Leaning on the piano, feeling the vibrating strings resonate through the wood and your bones, you watched her fingers expertly dance over the black and white keys. It made you wonder what it would feel like if her fingers danced over your skin instead...

Then one evening, it finally happened.

Sober yet as if drunk, irresistibly drawn to each other, you gazed into each others eyes and sank into a slow, deep kiss on her bed. Her sharp teeth and barbed tongue grazed yours, sending shivers up and down your spine. Gently combing her hands through your hair, claws lightly skimming down your back, humming as you dug your fingers into her fur, she placed you on her lap and started grinding against you. Aroused by her actions, you responded in kind, adding some pressure with the movement of your hips.

The purr of pleasure rumbling in her throat was swallowed by you like wine. Warm and exciting, it pooled in your abdomen, leaving a tingling feeling in your crotch. You could feel the penile spines of her erection through the layers of fabric the same way she could feel your softness, rubbing together as if producing sparks and igniting a fire.

Set ablaze by passion, bodies trembled and clothes fell. The soft rustle of fabric gone, all that was left were quiet sighs and moans against a background of purrs, harmonizing like a little love song.

With velvet paws, she caressed your arms, back and thighs, endlessly enamored with the sensation of touching you. Fingers tapping as if pressing keys, she elicited the sweetest sounds from you. Unable to control herself, she pulled you even tighter against herself, and when you grabbed her balls as your lower lips wetly kissed her length, her back arched under the pleasure.

You buried your face in her furry chest, your cheek against her smaller right breast as you teased her nipple with your tongue. Her breathy moan encouraged you to continue, lightly sucking on the erect bud until it deepened in color before switching to her bigger left one.

When you were done, she grabbed your ass and lifted you onto her cock. The tip parted your folds and gently slid into your entrance, the spines lightly brushing against your rim. Her size filled you, stretched you, made your pussy cling to her like an embrace.

You cried when she hilted.

She felt so good your mouth hung open and your eyes rolled.

Your fluttering pussy made her groan, unconsciously thrusting a little. With the movement, her penile spines raked your tender walls, further stimulating you.

Her little thrusts continued, inviting you to join in. Moving your hips in unison, rhythm gradually syncing with your heartbeats, you kissed and caressed and intertwined. Tensing around her, teasing the base of her tail before nibbling on her ears, you enjoyed how her golden eyes gleamed with lust, how she desired you.

It felt so good to be desired by her, for her to want you specifically.

It made you want to carry on until you were too tired to move.

She cooperated for three rounds before putting on a stern expression. Her voice was breathy and hoarse, laced with lust, but she did her best to keep steady. All she wanted was for you to be well. If you did too much, you might get hurt.

Shivering in fear, you tightened the blanket you’d wrapped around yourself. If you had a choice, you would’ve ran off right then and there. But that was impossible. The lighthouse was already the least abnormal place in the entire town. Leaving now just meant being taken by the things in the fog, or maybe falling off the cliff and getting intimate with whoever had made their residency down there.

And even if you made it back into the town, you wouldn’t fare well. No one sane would let you in!

Also… you had volunteered for the job of lightkeeper after the family who previously held this responsibility died under to you unknown circumstances. Of course, they hadn’t been found in the lighthouse, but outside. If they had, you would’ve chosen a sunny day to move out of town as soon as possible, not ran over. Yet now you lived there, and if something had terrified them so much they ran out into the fog… one after another…

Your breathing sped up and tears gathered in your eyes as you thought.

You didn’t want to die. Not under these mysterious circumstances. Not when you hadn’t even properly lived your life yet. Not…

The sudden toot of the foghorn startled you so badly you nearly jumped out of your skin and your heart got stuck in your throat. Although it sounded every two minutes during foggy weather, this time you were so high-strung you completely forgot. There was just something… different about this day.

You quickly wiped your eyes and pulled the blanket tighter around your shoulders. The embrace-like feeling was comforting. It made you feel less exposed. 

Just as you were calming down a little, you heard something. 

The sound was very quiet, muffled by the steady waves and drowned out by the foghorn. Yet even so, you heard it. And the more you listened, the clearer it became. Until you realized that it was the tinkling of chains. 

Your barely warmed up body suddenly felt chilled to the bones. 

You knew where there were chains in the lighthouse. For example, most doors could be secured with chains, but they wouldn’t tinkle like this even when there was wind blowing through. There was also the hand-cranked block-and-tackle lift, which you’d used to get some furniture and supplies to the upper levels, but that chain was relatively tight to prevent it from getting tangled in anything. The last place was the basement, where there were hooks hanging on chains, likely once used for storing meat, but that was so far away from you that even if they moved for some inexplicable reason, you shouldn’t be able to hear them…

The chains tinkled again. 

Like there was something bound by them, moving around. 

Whispering in your ear. 

Calling out to you, to come take a look. 

Telling you that you weren’t alone in this godforsaken place. 

Your heart pounded. You blinked and tears fell, and cold sweat covered your back. It was a fear that crawled under your skin, seeped into your blood, and slowly hugged your brain. Like a tender, suffocating embrace, aiming to kill something inside you. 

And then it was gone. 

Suddenly, quietly, the dreadful sensation disappeared. 

Relief washed over you like water after a long and exhausting day, allowing you to limply collapse in your seat and take a few deep breaths. Your temples throbbed and moving merely your eyes made you dizzy. So, you simply lay down to take a rest. You couldn’t work like this. 

After everything returned to normal and you calmed down, you just continued keeping watch. Once the fog dispersed, you turned off the foghorn, and as the sky brightened, you also turned off the lantern. The gears came to a halt, the rotating light dimmed, and in the twilight of the early morning, you tiredly fell asleep in the watch room. 

In the following days, all seemed ordinary. Blackthorn was still a place that made you instinctively feel queasy, but the sunny days that usually were as rare as a unicorn suddenly increased. Five days of pleasantly warm sunshine fell upon the grey little town and made most people hide indoors like sewer rats, while you appreciated the change.

Forgotten was the fear of that foggy night, the memory completely overshadowed by the sunshine. It was warm and dry and allowed you to take little walks by the coastline, and even going shopping in the town felt more comfortable. Even the heavy rain that followed couldn’t dampen your bright mood, as if the sun had directly lit up your brain. 

You felt wonderful. 

You should have left. 

Once again, thick fog squeezed against the lighthouse like a sentient being that wanted in, creating a sea of deathly pale grey beyond the window pane. Above you, the prismatic lens rotated dutifully, and right next to you, the clockwork filled the watch room with its soft noise. The blanket was snugly wrapped around you, still carrying the scent of sunshine from when you’d hung it outside to dry, and steam rose from the thermos cup in your hands. 

Everything was calm. 

And just then, you heard a soft sound. 

The tinkling of chains was as pleasant as the ringing of bells, light, crisp, and somehow cool. It came from far below, moving with whatever they were holding, and the entire lighthouse seemed to tense as the chains were pulled tight. 

Only when the tinkling stopped did you realize that you had forgotten to breathe or blink. Your eyes were dry, your fingers stiff, and your drink had gone cold. Moving even a little made your joints creak ominously and swallowing hurt a little, but you wanted to alleviate this feeling and had to go through with it. 

You poured the room temperature liquid out of the cup and refilled it with steaming cold indigo tea. The velvety chill felt soothing against your flesh, making you sigh in satisfaction as a drop of blood fell and dyed the liquid purple. 

Looking out at the thick fog and sipping your tea, you thought to yourself, Nice weather. 

A day later, there seemed to be less fog, as if it had been reduced by something. When you went up to the lantern room to check on the lens, you could see it rolling outside the large windows, barely revealing the lantern gallery while swallowing the entire rest of the world. 

It gave you a feeling like someone lightly trailing their finger up and down your spine, both teasing and malicious. 

But you didn’t understand why. 

Not yet at least. 

That night, you continued drinking your indigo tea. Ever since you had started drinking indigo tea, you felt very at peace with yourself and the world. Indigo tea soothed your frazzled nerves, pulled you down to earth. Your heart beat and fingertips warmed when you drank indigo tea, the feeling radiating from your organs into your flesh and seeping into your blood to slowly hug your brain. Like a tender, relaxing embrace, the indigo tea nourished something inside you. 

Until you were no longer afraid. 

One foggy night, it actually wasn’t that foggy anymore. It didn’t reach the watch room, giving you no opportunity to imagine what it would be like if the rolling puffs formed into hands and slammed against the windows, but it thoroughly covered the ground and sea. As a result, the lighthouse felt a lot taller and more isolated, almost as if you lived in your own little pocket of reality. 

You heard the tinkling of chains again. It was still rather quiet but very pleasant to listen to. Even more pleasant was the voice hidden beneath it, calling your name and asking you to come down. You had never known that a voice could be so enthralling, and so you deliberately acted like you hadn’t heard it just so it would call your name a few more times. 

When you came back to your senses, you were standing before the basement door. It was hidden in the wooden paneling of the staircase, making the ground floor look like an ordinary home’s downstairs, albeit a little old fashioned. You didn’t like the basement’s smell, so you rarely went there, and the door had accumulated a layer of dust from lack of use. 

Yet now, you were intending to open it. 

Your hand holding the blanket around your shoulders tightened, and something in your brain was screaming desperately for you to get away, to run and never come back, yet you couldn’t help yourself. You wanted to see the one calling out to you. 

The scream abruptly fell silent the moment you touched the basement door, and the tinkling of chains was clearer than ever. 

Heart pounding with excitement, you pushed open the door. 

What greeted you was a long set of stairs, followed by a room filled with old storage containers, shelf-like nooks, and hooked chains stained with rust hanging from the low ceiling. Water dripped somewhere, the sound of a drop meeting a puddle crisp and clear, and there was a musty smell in the air, a mixture of dust, saltwater, wet stones, and likely the old scent of meat. It made you gag a little. 

What an unbearable smell. 

After recovering from the poor air quality, you finally focused on the door in the far back. You had never seen it before and couldn’t remember whether anyone had ever mentioned it to you, but that didn’t matter anyway. You just had to open it, and then you would see them. 

The door groaned as you pushed. 

A pungent scent welcomed you, blowing the stale air out of your lungs like mint. As if cleansing your body from all its impurities, it made you take deep breaths, eyes fluttering in a trance as your core warmed. 

Lost in the sensation, you didn’t even realize how you were moved around. 

By the time you came back to your senses, you were already butt naked, arms and legs covered in goosebumps tangled in a mess of cold chains the width of a finger suspending you above the ground, and your exposed sex vigorously drooling with lust for the angel to see. The angel took all of this in, the star-like eyes scattered across their wet tentacles adjusting their pupils as they focused on you. Their attention caused your lust to burn hotter, leading you to buck your hips in their direction. 

You heard them chuckle, the sound drilling into your mind and making your ears feel hot. 

Then they reached out a tentacle. It cradled your cheek, traced your facial lines, trailed down your neck, chest and abdomen, and finally wrapped around your erect genitals. Their wetness felt hot on your skin, mixing with your leaking fluids and dripping down. 

You twitched in their grasp and moaned. 

The angel drew close, murmuring your name as they started rubbing. Their velvety touch sent shivers up your spine, and when the narrow tentacle tip dipped into your virgin hole, you came immediately, shooting your ejaculate everywhere. Yet the angel didn’t stop, pushing their now defiled appendage deeper into you and causing more fluid to spill out with a squelch. They pushed and pushed until you felt them deep inside you, squeezing past a particularly tight spot before coming to a halt. 

Your abdomen pulsed from how much they filled you, stretching the previously untouched hole so much it bulged faintly with their form. Just staying still like this was pleasurable enough to keep you here, in the basement, impaled like this, for an entire lifetime. 

But they wouldn’t stop there. 

Not when they had found such a good, obedient breeder. 

More tentacles slid up your body. Two went up to your chest, gently kneading the flesh and brushing over your nipples. Another two curled around your ass cheeks to pull them apart, revealing your cleft and the puckered hole at its end. Finally, one tentacle reached into your mouth to play with your tongue, while another reached up to your asshole and circled around the wrinkly bud. 

All of them left plenty of their fluid on and in you, lathering you with it and forcing you to continuously swallow. A while later, the tentacle at your asshole slowly slipped inside, discharging more liquid and filling your ass with it. 

You groaned around the tentacle in your mouth. 

The angel penetrating your ass felt just as divine as when they entered tour front. It made you come the moment they bottomed out, yet the unmoving tentacle plugging your front prevented you from being truly relieved. 

Your body trembled in their grip. Tears fell from your eyes and liquid dripped from you, the sound of it hitting the ground swallowed by the tinkling of the swaying chains. 

At the same time, you were forced to swallow the tentacle in your mouth. Slicked up by its fluid, it slipped into your throat and down your esophagus until it reached your stomach. Thin enough to let you breathe, yet thick enough to make you feel how they filled you even there. 

Your eyes rolled to the back of your head the second the angel started thrusting their tentacles. 

They shook your body with every plunge into your depths, smoothly sliding in and out even as they swelled. Their eyes watched your reaction closely, especially enjoying the little bulge they created in your abdomen every time they bottomed out. With another tentacle pressing there, you could also feel it, partaking in their joy. 

You came again, and at the same time, you felt the angel throb inside you. Like a second heartbeat burrowing into your veins, their tentacles pulsed, intensifying your orgasm and driving it to a new high when a liquid erupted from them. It was scorching hot, pumping into your ass and stomach until you bulged. Out of instinct, you loved this feeling of being filled. As if there was a desirable consequence attached to this, leading both of you to descend further into the abyss of lust. 

The angel thrust faster and deeper after this. All three tentacles penetrating you slammed into your body like they wanted to take you apart, making the cum filling you audibly slosh about. 

Gradually, you lost count of how many times you came. 

All you knew was that at some point, your chest had started aching and your nipples were leaking something, while your body had gone completely limp amidst the chains and the hold of the tentacles. 

Then, the tentacles stopped. They had swollen more, distending your abdomen and bulging in your throat, fitting snugly and prepping you well for their next move. First they deflated to the point of leaving you feeling terribly empty, before suddenly bulging at the entrances of your holes. It pressed against your rims, easily slipping into your mouth but struggling with the tightness of your bottom half. Still, the pressure persisted, even increasing over time. 

You started squirming and crying after a while from how hard they pressed, but the angel only added more tentacles to keep you still. 

The bulge in your mouth had slid into your throat by then. Barely able to breathe, you reflexively swallowed, growing dizzy for a moment before you felt the thing fall into your stomach. Only then did you realize that the bulges were eggs of various sizes being forced into your bodily orifices. 

A moment later, your asshole stretched around the egg there, and with a squelch, it went in. You could feel it slowly wander up through the tentacle and your rectum with rhythmic throbs, rubbing against your insides and finally being deposited in your intestines. 

Following this, both your stomach and ass received more eggs, while the tentacle at your front wriggled. The sensation made you shudder and tense, causing the eggs in your body to be squeezed and produce a strange kind of tingling pleasure. At the same time, the tentacle at your front finally managed to get the tip of its egg into your tight hole. Then followed the wider middle, and finally the entire egg was swallowed by you. 

You were already breathing hard by this point, but the egg hadn’t yet reached its destination. It was forced further up along your tight channel, leaving a wandering distention visible through your flesh, until the egg met the narrowest part of the passage just before its goal. The pressure was almost painful, yet the moment it made it beyond and fell into the already cum filled cavity, you reached your climax. 

With this egg, the gate was opened. 

Your body was ready. 

One egg after another was forced past your entrances, slid along the slick and throbbing tentacles, and was deposited inside you. The more they accumulated, the heavier you felt, the larger you swelled. Everything that could be erect was fully engorged and leaking, and your brain felt fuzzy as you came again and again. 

This was heaven, this was ecstasy. 

Eggs poured into you like water, leaving you so full and heavy you couldn’t even struggle anymore. All you knew was that your skin stretched tightly and your dripping sex bulged with every egg. The feeling was so divine you kept wanting more, needing your angel to pump you full until you burst. 

And you did, in a way. 

Towards the end, your body couldn’t contain any more eggs, so the angel had to pull out. And even as they did, they were still laying more eggs in your channels, stuffing you as much as they could. 

There was a moment of respite. 

Your gaping holes contracted as if they were breathing. 

You gagged as you coughed up a few eggs, and your stomach muscles tensed. As a result, eggs shot put of your ass and sex, producing loud plops and squelches and erupting from your channels just as quickly as they’d been pumped in previously. They rubbed everywhere and stimulated all the overstimulated parts, causing you to fall into one long orgasm as milk and ejaculate squirted from your tired body, accompanied by a hoarse, ecstatic scream. And just as you were about to trip from pleasure, an egg got stuck. 

Whining tearfully, you tensed and relaxed in an attempt to keep it going, but your front stayed plugged. The other eggs pressed against it, yet it wouldn’t budge. 

You looked at your angel for help, and they moved. Tentacles slithered towards your ass and front, and just as you thought they’d assist in the release, the one at your front pressed the eggs back inside. Your body trembled as sticky fluid dripped from you, and you trembled even more when they slowly started stuffing the slick, squishy eggs you’d previously discharged back into you. 

Tied to the prince's underside and securely hidden beneath layers of breathable fabric, his nearly floor-length caparison concealing any hint of your figure, your pussy was stuffed with his long, erect cock. Every step subtly rocked you back and forth, grinding your bare nipples on his fur and his flared tip against your g-spot. The long-lasting stimulation, from his chambers out of the palace and finally down the street once the parade assembled, left you so wet and needy you couldn’t think, and your prince wasn’t any better.

He knew this parade would consume a lot of his time. Just preparing took half a day, much less actually walking the streets and waving to the excited citizens. As such, he, greedy for your company, had asked you for this favor. Simply knowing you were right by his side, feeling your presence, he would feel reassured.

That’s what he thought.

Then he prepared your pussy with his tongue and fingers, and the moment he entered you with his big flared cock head, he almost came.

It took him a lot of effort to hold back, especially with your delicious moans filling his ears and your tight walls twitching around his veiny length. Yet he didn’t have time to take you right then and there. He needed to be patient, to wait until the end of the parade, until he was back in his chambers where no one would see or hear you when you came undone on his cock.

In the meantime, his flared glans would keep grinding against that slightly rough patch of flesh within your sopping pussy, leaking incessantly and producing subtle squelches that seemed louder than they actually were, as if anyone he passed could hear.

These thoughts kept him on edge. The prince even couldn’t help swaying his ass a little more as he walked, just to secretly rut into you under the eyes of his family and subjects.

And you?

You had to keep quiet.

Sweating as you bit your lip, desperately hoping no one noticed you while at the same time absolutely thrilled by the notion. All it needed was a single strong gust of wind, and the entire royal family, their guards, the capital’s citizens, and eventually the entire nation and beyond would know that the kingdom's one and only prince was impaling an unknown commoner on his erect cock while walking the celebratory parade. They’d see your cock-drunk expression, your parted folds, your prince’s length glistening with the slick of your stretched pussy...

Your pussy twitched at these thoughts, tightening around the prince’s big horse cock so much you could feel his fiercely bulging veins pulsing within your walls. If only he’d thrust…

But right then, the parade came to a halt.

You had no clue what happened, unable to see anything from beneath the caparison and a little lightheaded from the warmth. All you knew was that the prince stilled, his cock motionless. The lack of stimulation when you were so close to coming was maddening. How could he do this? No, how could he bear it? He’d already been leaking all the way back in his chambers, so now he must be absolutely eager to rail you and cum until it came gushing out.

And you were right; your centaur prince was slowly but surely reaching his limit. Unseen by anyone, sweat was beading on his back beneath the thick, richly embroidered uniform, and his breathing had deepened in an attempt to control himself.

It was agonizing, being inside you yet having to refrain from fucking you. The way your wet walls embraced his length drove him crazy, tempting him to properly take you right then and there. But your affair was a secret one, not to be known, at least during this time. Yet if he were to be exposed at this very moment, he would not hesitate and fuck you for everyone to see. Even being gawked at by his people, he’d pump you full of his cum, until it gushed out of your glorious pussy and became filth on the streets. Just the thought, the image of it in his mind, made his beautifully maintained tail flick impatiently and his cock throb with eager anticipation.

Though… he didn’t really want anyone to see you like that. Especially when he had difficulty doing so. And what he couldn’t see, no one else was allowed to see, either.

When the procession finally started moving again, the way the prince’s cock rocked into you nearly made you bite your tongue off. The large size, the flared head, the bulging veins…! All of it left you wanting, needy to the point of dizziness. Even worse, parts of your body were staring to feel numb, tingling like a bunch of ants crawling around under your skin. If only you could…

You felt like you were going crazy as you hung there.

It seemed to take an eternity for the sound of regular footsteps on cobble streets to change to the echoing of the castle’s marble hall. Your attention snapped back at the noise, knowing well that the prince would soon walk up the ramp and return to his chambers. You could hear him chat a little with his family, then claim tiredness and start his retreat. This was entirely reasonable, of course. After all, one just had to take a look at his sweaty face and listen to his trembling voice...

Only you knew that he wasn’t tired from walking. Only you knew that the moment he returned to his chambers, the real exercise would start.

The prince tried to appear calm as he hurried upstairs and impatiently waved his servants away. He couldn’t risk them seeing you, even if it was just your sweaty outline beneath his silk wrap. Any chance of your affair being known needed to be nipped in the bud. And... he needed you so badly, he felt like he was about to explode. There was really no way for him to wait any longer.

The moment the door to his bedchamber closed, he started stripping. His gorgeous yet heavy coat and caparison fell to the ground, the noise muffled by the thick carpet, followed by the sound of him ripping his wet with sweat shirt off of his upper body.

Clothes fell, and you were exposed to the world with a gasp for air. Hair stuck to your flushed face and limbs to numb to move, you were placed on his bed. His weight pressed down on you as he knelt on the mattress with his front legs, and both of you stretched to gaze at each other, tenderly yet lustfully locking eyes as he started to thrust.

At first, he was still holding back a little, trying to be gentle, yet neither of you could hold back.

You clenched your pussy, and your prince responded by ramming his cock into you, making you swallow more than half of his monstrous length. He knocked the air out of your lungs with a broken moan, his flared tip kissing your cervix and rearranging your guts with how deeply he penetrated. The pattern of his bulging veins was already firmly imprinted in your walls, wonderfully stimulating you into a cock-drunk mess as his shaft throbbed.

His pace quickly got faster and messier, making your breasts bounce and nipples rub against his belly. He could feel you claw at his coat of fur, hear you moan and see your eyes roll, all of it urging him to go even harder. Low groans and murmurs spilled from his lips, tears blurring his sight while his cock leaked eagerly and his balls tightened. The need to cum was so strong it almost hurt, leading him to bury himself as deep in your pussy as possible just before he came.

You reached your climax at the same time.

Your walls fluttered around your prince’s length like a massage. The rhythmic tension felt as if you were milking him, extending his eruption and squeezing until it spilled out of you.

Exhilaration exploded in your body and blinded your senses, but you still noticed how his slowly softening cock gradually slipped out of you. His weight on top of you made his thick cum gush out of your hole, and tensing your muscles you could still hear the liquids inside you slosh and squelch. It was a sensation that filled you with new arousal despite your exhaustion.

Meanwhile, your prince groaned as he got off the bed and knelt down before it. With a prime view of your ravaged pussy, he felt his dick give a twitch in the desire to go again despite his refractory period. Forced to ignore his want for a while, he swallowed and grabbed your legs to pull your closer. Legs hanging off the bed and straddling his human half’s waist, you were in the perfect place to share a kiss with.

Not to mention that the orange slime looked absolutely gorgeous bathed in the brilliant sunshine.

It was a beautiful moment smelling of mandarin oranges, making your stomach rumble. Both of you paused, exchanged a glance, and couldn’t help laughing. Naturally, what should follow after a night of exercise and a restful sleep was a good breakfast.

Merryweather made to get up, only to freeze again. The posture almost made him look like an orange popsicle.

Maybe he hadn’t expected to wake up naked? But you really had no choice there. A tired, tipsy slime wasn’t easy to get home, and once lying passed out in his bed he’d been about as wieldy as jelly, like the floppiest rag doll in existence and just short of losing his humanoid shape. You barely managed to get him out of his clothes, and then you had to give up as getting the unconscious slime dressed proved to be an impossible task this late at night.

At least you straightened him out before covering him with the blanket.

With Merryweather out of sight, out of mind, and unable to distract you, you had scavenged his apartment for a late night snack and thrown both of your clothes into the washing machine before going to bed.

So while he was now naked, you were wearing one of the few oversized t-shirts hidden in the depths of his closet. Based on the obvious folds and strong scent of laundry detergent, it was clear that he didn’t wear it much.

But it made sense. Every time you saw Merryweather, he was at least wearing his suit and gloves, always covering himself. It was as if the suit was his armor and for as long as he wore it he could avoid being wounded. Though if he was hit hard enough, it would still leave a bruise…

As your thoughts wandered, the slime next to you exuded a sudden burst of sweet mandarin orange fragrance. Obviously feeling shy, he got out of bed and stumbled into the bathroom. The door swung shut behind him, yet was closed very gently.

Chuckling to yourself, you stretched and also got up. While Merryweather regained his cool in the bathroom, you’d just make breakfast.

By day, Merryweather’s home was a space filled with sunlight. He grew some succulents, cacti, and kitchen herbs, obviously cleaned regularly, and kept everything neat and tidy. As such, it was easy to find what you needed and get started.

When Merryweather finally came out of the bathroom wearing button up pajamas, breakfast was ready. He sat down opposite you and gave you a stiff word of thanks.

Knowing he was just a socially awkward guy, you didn’t mind his stiffness and smiled. Anyway, you liked doing things for him. Gifts and words of affirmation were good, too, as long as you could express your appreciation for him.

After eating and cleaning up, you started sticking to Merryweather.

The poor slime immediately forgot what he initially planned to do today. Exuding a fresh burst of mandarin orange fragrance, he walked around his home like a malfunctioning roomba. And you, doing your best to suppress your laugh, just kept following him.

Eventually, he couldn’t bear it anymore. He turned around and stared at you.

You innocently blinked at him, then leaned down to give him a light kiss.

Merryweather’s fragrance exploded. It was overwhelming, incredibly sweet, and it prickled so fiercely it made you sneeze. He was stunned before inexplicably laughing. Looking at him, you also laughed.

When you finished laughing, you gently took his hand and took a step towards him. Quietly looking at each other, you felt your heart beat, warming your body.

Merryweather felt it, too. He also felt your continued care and affection. You had always been there for him, giving him time and space and never leaving. It was reassuring.

Taking a deep breath and pursing his lips, he shifted his feet. His hand twitched in your hold, gradually responding to you as he slowly inched closer, taking countless tiny steps until he only needed to raise his head to kiss you.

You watched him. Waiting. Allowing him to take his time, as much as he needed. Even if he wanted to pull back at the last step, it would be fine.

Merryweather blinked a few times in quick succession. Then he lifted his head.

The touch of your lips exploded on his senses like a firework. It lit up his heart in one big, lasting burst, intensifying his fragrance. Sober and in a safe space where no strangers would walk in on him, wide awake, in a stable mood — he finally relaxed and properly kissed you.

Your thumb rubbed the back of his hand.

I like you, you told him, breath fanning over his lips. Do you like me too?

Continuously exuding his fragrance, he looked you in the eyes, clearly nervous beyond words, and gave a nod. Feeling it wasn’t enough, he nodded again, firmer this time, more obvious. And then he swallowed, a reckless, almost desperate look in his eyes, and said dryly, I like you too.

It was so difficult for him to say he cried.

Your heart ached with affection and pain as you hugged him. His suppressed sobs felt like knives, and his arms twitching like he wanted to lift them to hug you back but just couldn’t broke you even more.

Such a proud, strong being was actually so devastatingly fragile.

You might never know just how much sorrow Merryweather carried in his heart. But that didn’t matter. As long as you’re with him, you can listen to him, let him lean on you, and gradually create a safe haven for him. If he could relax and smile without burden, that would be great.

Taking a shaky breath, you took his arms and lifted them, guiding him to hold onto you.

You could feel his hands clench, his shoulders trembling as he tried to breathe through his sobs. Small whimpers escaped his throat, pained, and yet, you meant to feel him release a certain emotion. Tears stained your shoulder where he buried his head, slowly drying into sticky trails.

Stroking his back and head, he gradually relaxed, until you were simply hugging each other.

You really wanted to tell him that it’s okay to cry. You also wanted to tell him that he could hug you anytime he wanted.

But in the end, you just opened your mouth without saying anything, and kissed the top of his head.

Then you couldn’t help leaning down to kiss his temple, his cheek, and finally his lips. Even after venting, he tasted so irresistibly sweet, the prickly feeling sending currents through your body that quickly changed the meaning of this kiss from comfort to want. It was a feeling that gently tugged at you, lust born out of your affection for him, both daring to hope and to act.

And yet, you’d rather not.

You wanted to enjoy this moment of kissing. There was no need for anything else right now. If your love for him could only be expressed through physical intimacy, it would wither the moment your body couldn’t handle the exercise anymore. That would be pitiful, and also pathetic, if not even more unfair to Merryweather. No, it was good to kiss and hug. To snuggle up together on the couch, nuzzle each other like little creatures seeking warmth, and talk about meaningless yet notable trivialities when not enjoying the peaceful silence.

But Merryweather couldn’t read your thoughts. Days passed, then a week, then a month since you had sex, and he felt worse and worse.

He had enjoyed your intimacy. He had also hoped for more. But you never mentioned it, never alluded to it, and didn’t seem to have plans to initiate another time.

It made him feel like he had somehow screwed up his first time.

Maybe he was too big? Or he came to early, too much? Or you realized that you didn’t enjoy having sex with him as much as you thought? Was his lack of initiative too frustrating for you?

It took you a while to realize something was wrong. Once you did, your slime boyfriend had already written two and a half dramas in his mind, so anxious the moment you mentioned it he broke out in tears. The whole situation made your heart jump into your throat.

You asked a few times before he sobbingly confessed that he felt undesired. Like you were only dating him out of pity.

The notion was so absurd to you your brain crashed and your heart fell into a jumble.

How could you pity-date Merryweather???

Your sheer confusion made it difficult to explain your feelings. The panic didn’t help, either. He was so good yet so insecure; what if he had already emotionally distanced himself from you so much you were just weeks away from a breakup? You didn’t want that. You also didn’t want him to bottle things up. If he continued like that and you got another situation like this, your heart wouldn’t be able to handle it.

Fortunately, you managed to clear up this misunderstanding. You explained your thoughts to him, not as justification or excuse, but simply so he would be able to understand and judge for himself.

After listening to you, he nearly cried again, this time due to all the self-blame he felt. If only he had asked... But he really didn’t know how. As he thought like this, the next fear emerged: What if he had no idea how to start a topic that weighed on his mind and jumped to conclusions again?

You could read the worries in his eyes. However, you had a solution. Whenever he wanted something from you but couldn’t bring himself to open his mouth and say something, he just had to stare at you, tug on your clothes, and make it as obvious as he could that he wanted something from you. The best comparison you could think of were those anime with very exaggerated emotional expressions. As long as it helped, it was fine.

Merryweather spent a while feeling tangled over your suggestion. Then after careful thought, he determined that this was probably the most useful for him before he figured out how to talk about the things that bothered him.

So that evening, when you were just doing things in your apartment, he kept following on your heel. Whenever you turned back, he was there, staring at you. Like a cat that wanted food.

You smiled at the thought, leaned in to give him a kiss, and asked.

What greeted you was a puff of prickly mandarin orange fragrance and a gorgeous, shy glance combined with a devastatingly sexy lip bite.

Ah.

Your heart was hit. Critical hit. Fatal damage. Girlfriend down. Shocked stupid by one flirtatious look from your boyfriend.

You felt like a ravenous beast as you pulled him into your embrace and kissed him. The forceful touch made him hum, causing you to go even wilder, pressing him against the wall. Tongues entangled, saliva mixed, and you unconsciously rolled your hips, more than one month of accumulated (deliberately ignored) lust acting like a bottle of carbonated drink that had been shaken enthusiastically as it erupted.

While kissing, Merryweather tentatively moved. He grabbed your top, then gradually hugged your waist. Without gloves on, just feeling your temperature through the fabric made him tremble, and he even yelped and shuddered with a soft moan when you tugged his shirt out of his pants, messing up his neatly ironed suit as your fingers slowly, lightly trailed along his waist. His fragrance intensified, tingling with each breath, and his hardening cock pressed against your thigh.

The sounds of clothes rustling and pants being unzipped seemed especially loud in the quiet room, only to be soon drowned put by both of your heaving breaths and soft moans.

Completely naked and sandwiched between you and the wall, Merryweather shuddered and started sweating. His prickly slime juice tingled on your bare skin, the touch making you feel as if there was an electric current seeping into your body. It enticed you to press even closer, nicely fitting the slime man’s cock between your legs.

Yet just as things seemed to be proceeding well, you took a step back.

Confused, Merryweather looked up at you, eyes watery from lust and pre cum already beading on the mushroom head of his beautiful cock. Almost as if he was begging to be ravaged.

Just the mere sight left you both drooling and feeling parched.

After taking a moment to admire him in all his naked glory, you sat down on the dining table. Then, spreading your legs and throwing him a smile full of bad intentions, you crooked a finger at him.

Merryweather swallowed. Unable to decide where to look, be it your twinkling eyes, the charming curve of your lips still wet with saliva, your erect nipples or your beautiful folds, he shuffled close. He could smell your desire amidst his scent, endlessly tempting him.

When he stood before you, you slid a hand up his arm and rested it on his shoulder, gently pressing him down until he knelt before you, eyes level with your pussy. Excitement ever growing under his ardent gaze, you instructed him to lift his hand. Once it was high enough, you held it and slid it along your inner thigh towards your crotch. There, you deliberately paused, locking eyes with him as you licked your lips.

Touch me.

His fingers slowly approached your pussy.

Both of you flinched when he touched your folds.

You murmured his name, face flushing from the heat building in your body.

He glanced up at you, then back at your crotch. His fingers twitched subtly before moving again. Gingerly, he brushed over your lower lips, from your clit to your entrance. He watched you tremble from his touch and, encouraged by your gasp, continued. Prickly sweat gradually covered your folds, making you tense your muscles and your clit grow erect, pussy glistening and fragrant from the slime.

Teased until slick started slowly dripping from your entrance, you tilted your head back and angled your hips towards him. A little impatient for him to do more, you reached out to comb your fingers through Merryweather’s thick strand of ‘hair’ and grab the back of his head, pulling him closer.

Have a taste?

Merryweather stared up at you. His fingers wandered a little before coming to a rest on your clit, lightly kneading. Then, he leaned forward. Giving you a clear view of everything he did, he opened his mouth, stretched out his tongue, and licked your slick in slow motion.

All that was left was the tingle of his saliva. It burrowed into your tender flesh and stimulated your erectile tissue, crawling along your nerves and into your brain.

Your hand in his hair tightened, and you pressed him even closer. And under your intense gaze, eyes glistening wetly, he brought his lips to your folds. He gently kissed your pussy, from top to bottom and up again, and finally sucked on your clit. As he did, he couldn’t resist rubbing his tongue against it, lathering the red pearl in his prickly slime juice.

You nearly came at the sensation, moaning his name like a prayer.

Merryweather watched you throw your head back in pleasure and slid a little lower. Your clit was exposed to the cool air while your entrance received warmth, the slime man’s tongue easily slipping inside. His teary eyes narrowed as he tasted you and pale orange saliva leaked from where your lips met as he made out with your pussy.

Chest heaving and eyes tearing up, the prickle of his saliva and the caress of sleek slime allowed you to reach your climax. Your walls tightened around his tongue, eliciting a delicious hum from him that vibrated pleasantly through your flesh.

At the same time, the sweet mandarin orange fragrance in the air drastically intensified.

When you reached the top after who knew how long, your skin was itching, breasts feeling sore and pussy drooling with arousal. Irritated, you struggled to take off your wet clothes, disliking the way they clung to your body. Then you reached down, the unexpected touch of your own cold fingers making you flinch and whine in frustration.

“Oh my, what do we have here?”

The sudden voice, like stones rubbing against each other, caused you to jump.

“Haha, no need to be afraid…”

And before your wide eyes, a figure stepped out of the shadows, into the pale light painted by raindrops trailing down the big round window behind. A head crowned by horns, bat-like wings sprouting from the back and a flexible tail coiling around the legs, a naked man made of stone bowed down to you.

“It’s just us,” he said as lightning flashed and distant thunder rolled across the sky, the blinding white light revealing more shadows like him, “the guardians of this church.”

Like the sound of falling pebbles, the voices of the gargoyles rang out. They chuckled and whispered, their cocks dangling right before your eyes.

The first gargoyle seemed to notice your gaze, and his voice took on a pitying tone. “Oh no, how did that happen? You’re all… wet!”

You looked at him, close to crying, “Help…”

He exchanged looks with the others, silently exchanging their thoughts, and then smiled and nodded, “Sure.”

“Boss, you first, you first…”

“Go for it!”

“She’s so pretty…”

“I want to go next!”

“No way, go after me!”

“Don’t fight…”

“Well then, don’t mind me~”

With that, the first gargoyle stepped forward and brought you in position. Facing the window with rain running down in rivulets, head down on a hastily dusted off cushion they got from god knew where and ass up, the gargoyle’s tail nudged your knees apart while his hands grabbed your ass cheeks. The cold, heavy touch sent a shiver up your spine, and as his hands spread your flesh, slick dripped from your pussy.

Then a rock teased your entrance. Its small, rounded tip slid up and down between your wet folds, circling around your clit before returning to your hole and slipping in. The deeper it went, the wider it got, until it forced your hole so wide open you whimpered. Afterwards, he quickly pulled out, only to slowly slide back in. Again and again, he sank into you, gradually stretching your pussy and allowing you to take him deeper and deeper.

At this point, you realized he was using his tail to fuck you.

He was preparing you.

His tip grazed your sensitive spot, making you whine and buck your hips. You wanted, no, needed him deeper, faster, rougher.

But just then, the gargoyle pulled out.

“Please…!”

He chuckled, “May I?”

“Yes, yes, yes, fuck, ah—!”

With one swift stroke, the gargoyle entered your sopping wet pussy with his cold, hard stone cock. Your walls clenched around the tapered tip, bulging mid-section and narrower base, feeling his outline. It was so hard it almost hurt, lacking any give or flexibility, but right then, mind almost blackout drunk on aphrodisiacs, that felt heavenly.

The gargoyle adjusted his grip on your ass, tail wrapping around your waist and dangling down to tease your asshole with its slicked up tip still carrying your temperature, and started thrusting. Slow and steady, he pulled back until his tip was barely still inside you before pushing back in. His slightly rough texture dragging along your walls perfectly soothed the itch you felt there, causing you to moan softly as you relaxed.

A few stone hands reached out to give you more pillows. Then they stroked your back, arms, head and cheeks, one finger even dipping into your mouth to press down on your tongue.

And right then, the gargoyle fucking you slammed into your pussy.

A jolt went through you as he hit a certain spot. Unable to close your mouth, you moaned loudly, and your pussy squelched with every hard plunge into your depths from how wet you were. It made you feel more and more excited, especially with all the other gargoyles watching, your eyes rolling and chest heaving, like an animal in heat.

All you could manage was a pathetic whine before you came. Your pussy fluttered, clearly feeling his canine-like shape and slightly rough texture pressing into your wet, tender walls.

Behind you, the gargoyle sped up. Delicious friction left your abdomen pulsing and your hole dripping, while the knot at the base of his cock pounded against your drenched folds. His stone body was stained by your aphrodisiac-induced heat, seemingly almost melding into your body, and your slick spread over his knot, resulting in an additional wet smacking noise.

When you came the second time, the gargoyle rammed his hard, fist-like knot into your sopping pussy.

You screamed at the sudden sensation of fullness. Your eyes rolled and your walls fluttered, stimulated by his continuous shallow thrusts. His punishing pace left you incoherent and trembling from bliss, his knot pulling on your pussy and stretching you further. And all the while, the other gargoyles were still teasing you, holding your mouth open. Each of your loud and high-pitched gasps, moans and whines was forced out of you, for all to appreciate as you were fucked.

A moment later, the gargoyle grunted. Without warning, thick ropes of cum erupted from his cock and were pumped into your depths. It was noticeably warm, with a weight and consistency to it that reminded you of mortar.

Unable to control yourself, another orgasm rolled over you. Your pussy clenched around the stone knot, fluttering so hard your abdomen hurt a little.

The gargoyle patted your ass reddened by his vice grip with a chuckle and pulled out. He had fucked you so well his knot popped out with ease, leaving your hole gaping and slowly dripping slick. Its sight drew some chuckles and other sounds from the surrounding gargoyles. From the corner of your eye, vision blurred by the raging aphrodisiac and recent tears of bliss, you even saw a few rubbing their cocks.

Seeing them, you bit down on your lip. The heat in your abdomen that had just calmed flared up again, making your blood boil with arousal. Sweat dripped down your skin and you felt a little lightheaded, panting and writhing with need.

One of the gargoyles patted your head and trailed his fingers down your spine, cooing something. At the same time, his tail tip pressed against your clit, making you twitch sensitively at the cold, hard touch.

He laughed, yet refused to enter you. All he did was caress your sweaty back and tease your clit. It was agonizing in the best way, a sweet torture that slowly led you to the edge yet left you hanging just as you were about to fall. Too little to come, yet too much to cool down again. Steadily keeping you there, listening to your moans, until he had enough. The gargoyle replaced his tail with his fingers and gently knead.

You came as if a button had been pressed. Eyes rolling back and body spasming wildly, something in your abdomen unraveled and liquid squirted from your pussy.

Laughter like falling rocks rumbled in your ears. A crackle sounded, like stone rubbing against stone, and you could feel their gazes boring into you, clinging to your naked body. They were watching, all watching you. Watching your slick and sweat drip, your thighs shift, your clit twitch. Like they were fucking you with their eyes.

These thoughts mixed with the aphrodisiac and turned you on, winding up the tension in your belly like a spring.

Sensitive from all the stimulation, you trembled when you were touched again. The gargoyle turned you over, onto your back, and lifted your legs. Bedded on the cushions, your hips were raised to the perfect height for the gargoyle to enter you, letting you see how your greedy hole swallowed his knobbly cock bit by bit. It looked like tightly squeezed soap bubbles and felt like a scaled-down version of the bumpy cobblestone streets outside, ending in an uneven knot at the base.

He gently held your thighs whetted by your slick as he thrust, going neither deep nor fast but patiently rubbing his knobbly cock along your walls. His pace combined with your post-climax heightened sensitivity made you moan and unconsciously tilt your hips like you wanted him to go deeper. Yet the gargoyle maintained his pace, steady as a rock. In and out, back and forth, the knobbly texture caressed your insides. It was calm to the point of being agitating, almost as bad as merely playing with your clit.

Finally, when you were moaning desperately, he worked his uneven knot into you. As it pressed against your g-spot, you came with a cry, while he grunted and pumped a rope of thick, heavy, mortar-like cum into you. The sensation of it settling in your belly mixed with your orgasm, further dragging it out.

You didn’t even notice how he pulled out and was replaced.

Or rather, you barely felt him at all. Only his tip grazed your walls like a mean tease, until he slid his knot in. He fucked you in a frenzy, knot rubbing over your g-spot, and just as your pleasure was building nicely, he already came, dumping his load of weighty cum into you.

Before you could whine about the emptiness you were filled once more. Legs propped up against the gargoyle’s chest and knees over his shoulders, his straight cock sank into your pussy. Stone barbs lightly caught on your entrance and were forced in, pressing into your wet walls like a massage stick. Holding onto your thighs, he started thrusting, gradually speeding up until your breasts bounced and your hands tried to find something to hold onto.

Thick cum was compressed by his cock head, pounded deeper into you with each addictive repetition. Wet squelches and your moans filled the air, accompanied by the clinking of stone and the heavy scent of lust.

Your eyes rolled as you came. Pussy fluttering and spasming, pleasure coursed through your veins and calmed the boiling heat as the gargoyle fucked you through your orgasm. Yet relief was denied, lust reignited before it could extinguish. It sent you back into the throes of ecstasy as the gargoyle plowed you, raking your walls until they were tender.

When you trembled with your next orgasm, he buried his knot inside your fucked raw pussy. Thick cum was pressed deeper into your core and added to by him, your lower abdomen noticeably bulging from the amount.

After a long while, he pulled out with a wet plop.

Your hole gaped from being repeatedly knotted. The flesh inside was red from the constant stimulation, feeling puffy and burning faintly.

And yet, the gargoyles’ next actions came as no relief.

The following cocks were smaller than the others with less novel textures, but they all got creative before dumping their cum into your pussy. One fucked you slowly while kneading your breasts and using your dripping slick to tease your asshole with his tail tip, relishing in how it dripped from between your folds. Another turned you onto your belly and fingered your pussy until his fingers were dripping wet so he could prep your ass, stretching the little bud into a blooming flower before pushing his cock alternately into your pussy and your ass. And you didn’t know who started it, but he used his cock and tail to fuck your two holes simultaneously, keeping you on edge with their sometimes slow and sometimes fast pace and denying you your orgasm until the very end.

When they were done with you, sweat was flowing down your spine and your belly was swollen from how much thick, heavy cum pressed down on your womb. Your eyes were unfocused, your holes gaping, and faint bruises were already covering your skin.

Just as you vaguely thought they were done, another pair of hands gripped you. Large and steady, they turned you onto your back and pressed your legs up until your knees neared your ears. In this position, you were forced to present your puffy, gaping pussy to the gargoyle towering above you. Outlined by the faint light shining into the little room through the round window behind him, you saw broad shoulders and large wings, adonis-like abdominal muscles hewn into the stone torso, and a big, fat, curved, exaggeratedly veiny cock hanging between his thick thighs.

The gargoyle sounded a little bashful as he apologized before penetrating you with his enormous cock head.

Your sopping wet hole was stretched to its limit, quietly squelching as centimeter after centimeter sank in. Folds spread and erect clit twitching, just the tip had your eyes already rolling. When he was one third in, you felt him push the mortar-like cum filling your channel being pushed deeper inside, and by the time he was two thirds in, you felt him bottom out, carved veins pressing firmly into your walls. The pulse of pleasure as he completely filled you made you throw your head back and your muscles spasm as slick squirted from your pussy like a broken sprinkler.

Blood rushed through your ears, deafening loud. Every little touch and move made you pant like an animal in heat. You couldn’t tell whether you were screaming or crying or trembling. All you knew was that you were stuffed with cum and cock. A cum-dump being fucked into oblivion by monster cocks. So cock-drunk you couldn’t tell up from down.

When the gargoyle slowly pulled back, your folds clung to his girth. His veins and distinct cock head dragged over your already overstimulated g-spot, and when he once more sank into your depths, you came again, pussy fluttering.

The large gargoyle grunted. He rolled his hips with great patience, letting you get used to his monstrous size before speeding up. With every thrust, he got faster and plunged in deeper, eventually pounding both his cock and the other gargoyles’ accumulated cum into you. His hips drenched by your slick slapped against your forcefully bent up ass and folds, wet smacks matching the rhythm of your heartbeat until overtaking it.

You felt him in your gut and at the back of your throat, fucking the air out of your lungs and making your pussy gush. He left you in a constant state of overwhelming pleasure, and when he finally somehow rammed his fat knot into your abused hole, you came so hard you blacked out.

And all the while, the large gargoyle still rocked his hilted cock inside you, showing his big outline from your pussy through your abdomen, knot grinding against your g-spot while his tip pressed the others’ cum against your cervix. Then with one last roll of his hips, cramming himself as deep into you as he could, he came. A thick rope of heavy cum erupted from his length, more and more of it pumping into you until your stomach bulged as if pregnant.

He pulled out with some difficulty, producing a loud squelch and leaving your thighs red and trembling from his hold, your hole so stretched one could see the cum stuffing you. Looking at his masterpiece, he paused for a moment, then flicked your clit.

You moaned and shuddered reflexively from the current this touch sent through your body.

Despite how spent you were, how tired and thirsty, you still… hadn’t had enough.

Abused by the aphrodisiac and gargoyle cocks, you’d already been trained into wanting this.

As such, it was to your great pleasure when they continued. Big, small, knobbly, smooth — each and every one of the twelve gargoyles fucked their knot into your pussy at least once and dumped their cum into you. They filled you until there was so much the bigger ones couldn’t fit anymore and took to fucking your stretched ass, only to switch back to your pussy just as they were about to cum.

By the end, everyone was fucking your ass with their cocks wet from your slick and stuck their tips into your pussy to use you as cum dump, until it overflowed. Thick glops of it fell out of your pussy, hole stretched so much it couldn’t close, slowly dripping down and landing on the floor with a splat.

Your whole body was numb and sweaty and trembling, brain fucked empty, and your stomach bulged from the copious amounts of mortar-like cum, heavy and stuffed to the brim. Small spasms caused by your uncountable orgasms caused your pussy to contract around the still pliable yet gradually hardening substance filling you, finally making you pass out from overstimulation.

When you regained consciousness, it was already the next day. You were dead tired, extremely hungry, your limbs heavy, and there was still something thick and hard plugging your fucked raw pussy. It was so bad that just turning over left you drained of strength and panting for breath.

When you dizzily reached between your shaking legs, you felt something hard sealing your entrance. Your folds were covered by it, also reaching your clit and ass like some kind of strange sex toy. Experimentally pulling on it sent a shiver of pleasure up your spine and forced a hoarse moan over your burning vocal cords, immediately making you recall the events of last night.

Shocked, you looked down at yourself and gaped at the sight.

Your belly, no, your entire abdomen bulged, from your bellybutton to your folds. It made your skin stretch, a hardness hiding beneath the soft flesh and leaving you unable to tense your muscles without gasping in pleasure and overstimulation alike.

By now, it was clear: That thing stuffing your pussy was the gargoyles’ hardened cum.

It had filled your gaping hole to the brim and perfectly molded according to your shape, then hardened over night, or maybe once the daylight shone on it. Either way, just lightly tugging on it sent fresh currents along your nerves, forcefully reigniting your arousal.

With tears gathering in your eyes, you bit your lip and took deep breaths as you removed the dildo of hardened gargoyle cum from your pussy. Your slick eased the action, yet it fit so well and reminded you so much of the insanity of last night that you couldn’t resist fucking yourself on it. Every dip and bulge was a faint memory of the gargoyles’ cocks, especially the knot-like shape towards your entrance. Only the flared tip was new, wonderfully kissing your cervix every time you completely swallowed it.

By the time you finally pulled the pillar out of your hole, you’d come three times and were feeling lightheaded.

Your entire body trembled as you slowly dressed. The clothes were a little crispy from getting drenched in rain last night, but you couldn’t afford to care about it. Only, when you were fully clothed, you glanced at the hardened cum dildo and fell into a long moment of hesitation.

You couldn’t just… leave it here. What if someone else found it? But how were you supposed to get this thing out of a church…?

Ah.

Both ashamed and excited, you pulled down your pants.

And as you worked the pillar back into your ravaged pussy, eyes glazed over and cheeks flushed with lust, a dozen pairs of dim, stony eyes stared at you, silently watching.

She continued nuzzling your neck as her hand disappeared in your boxers, “Hmm, you could say that.”

The touch of her rough finger pad on your clit made you take a breath. You tried to affect calm, “Oh. Then do you want to watch something else?”

Her gaze turned to you, dark and deep, and the smile she gave you was so full of bad intentions you felt yourself getting wet. “Sure.”

With that, she slowly moved. Her dun coat of fur shimmered in the dim light as her distinct muscles shifted, the sight making your mouth water. She made you sit next to her and propped herself up above you, enveloping you in her shadow as her hand within in your boxers palmed your crotch.

“My, so wet for me already..."

You glanced at your girlfriend’s cutesy joggers tented by her half-hard cock and chuckled breathlessly.

Obviously, she couldn’t resist you, either.

Her thick fingers parted your folds and caressed them, lightly pressing on your gradually throbbing clit while teasingly spreading your leaking slick. Your pussy quickly grew engorged under her touch, erect with arousal and pulsing needily.

Chest heaving, you hooked an arm around her neck to pull her into a sloppy kiss and grabbed her cock. Even through the thick, soft fabric, you could feel the heat of her length and the twitch that went through her upon your touch. Tongues entangled and hands rubbing each other, you sank deeper into the couch, her weight on top of you a reassuring reminder of her domineering presence.

With a few rough yet deft movements, she helped you out of your oversized t-shirt and boxers, hands repeatedly combing through your fur with just the right pressure. Chest, belly, thighs and tail, all were caressed and kneaded until you were soft as putty in her embrace.

“Good boy...” your girlfriend murmured, nuzzling the crook of your neck again.

You nuzzled her back and gently stroked her horns.

With a beautiful moan, she hurriedly pulled her big cock out of her joggers, aiming at your entrance and urgently stuffing herself into you. Despite being used to her size, her length and girth still stretched you so deliciously you felt more aroused by it, and you were so tight around her she got even harder. When she hilted, she had long bottomed out, filling you to the brim, but she only stopped and groaned in relief when she was balls deep in your pussy.

You clung to each other as you pulsed in sync, and then she started thrusting.

She knew exactly where your sensitive spots were, which kept you on edge for longest and which made you moan the most. Hugging your waist and massaging your clit, she kept you steady in her arms and sent you reeling within less than a minute. The way your walls fluttered spurred her on, chasing after her own pleasure with more and more force and speed. Her large cock pressed into you, glans and veins molding you to her shape, and every plunge into your depths visibly distended your lower abdomen.

“Gods, you’re so tight... Such a perfect little bull for me!"

Your girlfriend admired how your eyes rolled as she fucked another orgasm out of you, your high-pitched moans and the squelching of your pussy music in her ears.

Forgotten was the movie, it's sounds inaudible to both of you. The bucket of popcorn tipped over and its contents scattered over the couch and floor, the couch itself creaking from your activity. In the dim, flickering light, the dun fur and curved horns of your girlfriend carried a colorful, ever-shifting halo, almost like a deity.

Her thrusts gradually grew disordered and frantic, and her cock gave a twitch you felt in your gut before she came with a loud moan. She shuddered with pleasure, her length throbbing rhythmically as cum was pumped into your pussy.

The sensation pulled you along into your third orgasm. Your abdomen spasmed, rapidly contracting and relaxing, milking the cum out of her tight balls. It was so much you couldn’t contain it all, the warm fluid forcing its way past her large cock and overflowing. White stained your folds and her balls and both of your fur and the couch, slowly trickling out. When she leaned back, it drew her gaze like it was something fascinating, like staring at your sopping wet, ravaged pussy was as good as a filling dinner.

You took a while to recover from your orgasm. Once you did, your chest still heaving from the exercise, you brushed your fingers through her sweaty bangs and drew her into a kiss. At the same time, she pulled out, the way her softening cock dragged along your overstimulated walls making you moan into her mouth.

When she drew back, you smirked at her, “And? Was this more interesting than watching a movie?"

“Oh, absolutely. Got my full attention."

“Really?"

Your girlfriend laughed, “Nothing I enjoy more than your full-body immersive experience. And you? Satisfied?"

“Hmm...” You tilted your head back, then glanced at her with a smile, “Yes!"

She chuckled and shook her head, then leaned in to give you a kiss and lifted you from the couch, “I’ll help you clean up."

“Better not. What if I can’t resist your dazzling charm?"

“You think I can resist you?"

“Haha! No."

Both of you were stunned.

Marva because a human had literally fallen from the sky into her arms.

You because you just slipped when picking apples, only to end up in the arms of a damsel in shining armor. 

Momentarily dazed by her beautiful light green color and the faint fragrance of sage, you were brought back to reality by the buckles of her vambraces pressing into your back. Blushing with embarrassment, you asked her to set you down, but even with both feet on the ground, you found it difficult to look away.

It was this encounter that led you to eventually becoming Dame Marva’s squire.

In the beginning, she thought you’d be like everyone else. From just one look, she already dreaded having a bumbling idiot red as a ripe tomato following her around and causing trouble to no end. The mere thought made her itch for a fight.

Fortunately, you were different. 

You liked hearing her excited voice, but only when she rambled on about her favorite topics or read you a passage from one of her books. Spending time with her made you feel at peace, especially during heavy rain or sunny afternoons, and caring for her armor, sword and shield had a meditative quality to it.

Over time, Marva appreciated you more and more, and seeing you two together became the most normal thing.

You never thought much of it, but your Dame slowly developed other thoughts. Her gaze would inevitably float over to you, her body unconsciously leaning over as she took in your unique scent. 

The moment she became conscious of it, she wanted to stop, yet she couldn’t. She was just so happy being with you. If she didn’t have you, she would revert to her previous self, always annoyed and feeling like she was wearing a smiling mask.

Only with you was her smile real.

Only with you could she relax, even in the midst of a war.

But war was blind. By the end, despite only following Marva, you were hurt all over, covered in barely scabbed wounds, scratches and bruises. 

When she saw you like this, the always calm and steady knight broke out in tears.

You wanted to tell her not to cry, that it wasn’t as bad as it looked, but the words died in your throat at the sight of the fear in her sage green eyes. So you took her hand and asked her to heal you instead. Said you were tired and in pain but seeing her made it better.

Marva quickly pulled you into her tent, had you disrobe, and took off her gauntlets. Still crying, heartbreakingly quiet, she moved her hands over your body, leaving trails of healing slime. 

You didn’t know what to say.

You felt so helpless.

Your skin started itching as it began to heal. It was somewhat maddening, urging you to scratch. But compared to that, you rather took Marva into your arms. With the hard edges of her cold armor poking you, you stroked her head and gently kissed her temple.

It was then that she confessed.

The words just spilled out, disordered and clumsy. She had by no means intended or even planned it, especially not now, it just happened…

And then the fear set in. 

What if you didn’t like her? What if you were repulsed by her? Maybe you were only interested in humans? If it was due to her gender, she could change it. Whatever you wanted, as long as she could, she wanted to fulfill it.

You were stunned by this revelation. Her liking you actually made you a little happy, but changing her was completely unnecessary. If she tried to fit someone else’s expectations, wouldn’t she cease being the Marva you knew?

So, no need.

Things were good as they were.

Your Dame nervously asked if that meant you accepted her. When you didn’t understand, she had to word it more explicitly, listing the things she wanted to do with you exclusively. 

Holding hands, cuddling, sleeping in the same bed, kissing, kissing deeply, kissing until you fell into bed and rolled in the sheets and…

Her sage fragrance intensified as she spoke, and you couldn’t help blushing.

Now you clearly understood; there was no way to play dumb. You had never done anything like what she said and had never wanted to either, but if it was her… if it made her happy… then it seemed… acceptable.

So you shyly agreed. Then you threw a quick warning after, afraid she would be sad when you couldn’t do what she asked of you.

Marva smiled, though tears still shimmered in her eyes, and shook her head.

As long as you were willing to be even a little closer to her, she was the happiest slime alive.

In the tent dimly lit by fire, filled with the scent of metal and blood pressed beneath the soothing fragrance of sage, sitting on the camp bed with Marva kneeling before you, the two of you forged a new relationship.

The following days, as you returned home, the most you did was squeeze into the same bed to sleep. There was no time for anything else as the march was long and tiring, and you even encountered bandits on the way. Finally, after a long journey, you returned to the fortified city, celebrated by everyone present. Many rose in position, taking the places of the dead and those who moved up, and while you were given the same opportunity, you refused.

Just being Marva’s squire was enough for you. 

Any higher and you wouldn’t be able to see her every day, much less live with her.

A day later, a big feast was held to honor everyone who participated in the war. Everyone wore ceremonial uniforms, much lighter and simpler to wear than armor, and many knights drank without regard.

Your Dame ended up drinking each one of them under the table. Alcohol couldn’t affect her, automatically eliminated by her innate effect. 

You drank a little too much that evening. Marva used this as excuse to go back earlier, taking you back to her little home. The wooden floorboards groaned quietly, and the flickering candle light cast your shadows on the white plaster walls, hers tinted with a hint of pale green. Here, her scent was much stronger, soothing to the point of almost making you fall asleep while still standing.

Marva was quite amused by this. She told you to sit on her bed for a bit while she put a pot of water over the fire. It would take some time for the water to get warm enough to wipe yourselves down with, so she suggested undressing first.

Drunk as you were, you complied and proceeded to struggle. When the situation seemed hopeless and you planned to just fall asleep with your hands tangled in your linen shirt, your Dame came over to save you from your predicament.

Even wearing nothing, she looked like a knight in shining armor.

She chuckled at your dazed expression. Then she leaned down and gently kissed your forehead. Her touch was so soft and tender, it almost made you cry.

Marva was just so unbelievably good.

Your unconsciously spoken words painted a wide smile onto her face. In her opinion, the same went for you. She could compliment everything about you and it still wouldn’t be enough to properly express her fondness.

Marva held your chin and kissed your forehead again, then your temple, your cheek, slowly making her way towards your lips. 

Her sage fragrance cleared your head the longer you breathed it in, yet your face was still as hot as if you were drunk. Her touch tingled on your skin, wonderfully warm and soft, a little sleek but dry. 

Just before touching your lips, you murmured her name.

She looked up at you, meeting your eyes, your focused gaze.

You leaned forward and gently rubbed your lips against hers in a tentative kiss. The touch produced a warm feeling that gathered in your belly, as comfortable as a full meal after a day of hard work.

After lingering for a moment, you pulled back a little, and smiled.

You frown, mildly annoyed by this inconvenience.

In these kinds of dreams, nearly all entities turn hostile the moment they realize what you are after. And the ones that don't... always want something else. Disregarding one you refuse to remember, there was one that wanted to steal your equipment, and another wanted to hitch a ride on you into reality. That wasn’t fun. It also dragged out your mission time, making you look bad.

With a sigh, you reach to the back of your waist and pull out your gun. The fusion core at the side glows dimly in the dark water, energy bullets ready to go.

Time passes and the beeping gets faster as the dots approach.

A while later, you should be able to see them.

Yet there is nothing.

The ocean trench gapes beneath you like an enormous maw waiting to devour you, and the water pressure squeezes you from all around, dead silence enveloping you like a tomb.

Just as you think that this is bad, you feel something brush against you. You have no idea when it got so close to you, but it is up against your arm one moment, then rubbing around your leg the next. Invisible and untouchable, that entity keeps pressing close as if checking what kind of thing you are.

At the same time, your radar keeps beeping. Every time the entity gets close, it beeps maddeningly, urging you to do something, yet you don't even know where the fucking thing is!

Then, you suddenly catch a glimpse of... something.

In the dark water, beneath the light of your headlamp, it shimmers as it moves, iridescent like an oil spill. The touch is soft and gooey, until a claw obviously presses against the seam of your diving suit. Following it, a sensation as cold as the oceanic depths seeps in, nestling between the fabric and your skin.

You struggle uncomfortably.

If self-harm didn’t lead to immediate waking up, you would have shot yourself by now to get rid of that thing. Unfortunately, you have to bear with it.

Feeling irritated by the radar’s constant beeping and the cold, gooey touch crawling along your limbs, you try to find your target. According to the radar map, it should be here. Very close, even. Yet nothing around you looks like a pearl. Unless...

You hurriedly focus all your attention on the entity entangling you.

The iridescent shimmer has a structure to it, only obvious under close scrutiny. It has a big membrane, a little like a sail, and many tentacles, combining into an oddly humanoid shape that moves through the water like a jellyfish. As for the claws you felt, you can’t make out any, though you suspect they might be attached to the tentacles. Which seem to be crawling into your suit.

Gritting your teeth, you aim the fusion core gun at the big membrane floating before you. However, before you can press the trigger, you spot a white, perfectly round, vaguely glowing orb within it.

In this moment of inattention, the ghostly jellyfish entity reaches your crotch.

You gasp in shock and tremble at the cold, soft touch. Even worse, you are aroused by it, mind flashing back to how you got your cunt, and very inappropriately wondering with anticipation whether you are about to get ravaged again.

On that note, it would be nice to get your dick and balls back. Right now, your cunt somehow smells like that damned bewitching flower, as if the fae prince’s cum was its nectar and had marked your cunt as good-to-fuck in some way, and anything that presses against your big clit, be it clothes or a seat, makes you feel horny.

Your clit grows engorged as the gooey touch wanders further down through your pubic hair, and you helplessly thrash in the darkness in a feeble attempt at resistance. Rationality keeps telling you to focus on your mission, to do your task and leave. But emotionally, you keep finding reasons why that is currently impossible.

For example, the iridescent ghost entity is wrapped around you. It is even in your suit. You would have to forcibly terminate the dream connection to get away, and then you would be leaving without the pearl. That wouldn’t be good. Also... you are so horny. Ever since the fae prince fucked you, you haven’t been close to anyone, yet you constantly long for... something. You didn’t even dare touch your new genitals, too confused and admittedly a little scared, and you have a lot of pent-up sexual frustration.

The entity reaches your fat clit. It’s so cold you shiver, softly enveloping the nub with its gooey touch. A little claw protrudes from somewhere, trailing along your glans and pulling back your foreskin.

Your cunt throbs at the stimulation. You can feel yourself growing wet, eagerly anticipating more.

Seeing close to nothing, floating in the water as if weightless, hearing only your thumping heartbeat and hurried breaths, you get more and more excited. The thought of being fucked by an unknown entity fully occupies your mind. It is the thrill of wanting something taboo, violating virtues and morals by merely desiring. Being deprived of your hearing and sight only adds to the feeling, both as if you are safe and about to be caught at any moment.

The heat of your breath fogs up your helmet, and so you don’t even notice how the jellyfish-like membrane completely envelops you. Gooey tentacles enter without breaking, gently attaching to your skin, and a pair even wraps around your chest to slowly knead and rub.

Your eyelids flutter as you sink.

You feel your fat clit being stroked, from the glans down the shaft and back up again, and reflexively thrust. This is rather difficult underwater, but the iridescent entity catches your drift. It squeezes you firmly and lightly scrapes a tiny claw against the tip of your glans while stroking, sending pleasurable shivers up your spine and into your brain one after another. At the same time, its claws gently tease your nipples, the sharp tips leaving tiny trails of stimulating in their wake.

Thoughts are scrambled by pleasure. Your own moans dully resonate within your helmet as the gooey tentacles explore your body. Warmed by your rising body temperature, squeezed between your skin and your suit, it undulates with your breath, almost like it wants to merge with you.

The thing’s grip on your clit tightens and its movements accelerate, jerking your clit until you come.

Your cunt throbs and flutters, squelching as your channel contracts around nothing. It is a strange sensation to feel your insides, soft and moist and wet, almost like rubbing your tongue against itself but as smooth and soft and velvet.

The feeling leaves you a little panicked, and then all thoughts vanish from your mind as a tentacle of the jellyfish-like creature parts your folds. With a squelch, it enters your sopping cunt, followed by another two or three gooey appendages. They have a texture like jelly yet more pliable, easily squeezed by your walls, and the way they move inside you, writhing and undulating, makes you gasp.

You expect it to thrust, yet it doesn’t. Instead, the tentacles repeatedly expand and shrink, stuffing one more tentacle into you after each expansion. The amount and movement gradually fill your cunt until it feels crammed, pressing against your insides and stretching your entrance. At the same time, it hits all your sensitive spots, reaching so deep you mean to feel your belly bulge. And as if that wasn’t enough, the jellyfish creature keeps rubbing your fat clit and nipples, almost acting like it could milk those three nubs.

Pleasure slowly builds and reaches its peak, and you come with a cry no one but you can hear. It makes your abdomen tense, the rapid contractions squeezing some kind of fluid warmed by your body temperature out of the tentacles, accumulating in your belly and spilling out past the tentacles’ gaps.

After your orgasm, once you relax, every little squeeze from the ghostly jellyfish-like thing makes you tremble. Even worse is how the tentacles stuffing your cunt shift, going as far as to use your momentary relaxation to cram a few more into you. They stretch you so much it starts to hurt, yet you are still aroused, lust ignited by all the tugging and kneading and rubbing. You want to stop, but it feels so good, and then the tentacles start expanding and shrinking again, as if pulsing or pumping…

You come a third time, much faster than before.

Your orgasm wracks your body. It leaves you caught in the throes of pleasure, constantly enticing you while teetering on the brink of overstimulation.

Afterwards, you completely lose track of everything. The tentacles fuck you from one climax into the other until you are coming twice a minute, your cunt slick and throbbing. Every little touch causes you to twitch and moan and beg for it to stop, even when your muscles are tired and your voice hoarse, as if determined to make you pass out.

Unable to resist, you have to bear it all.

When you finally regain consciousness, you are already back in the dreamer capsule. Heart hammering in your chest, every pulse causes your body to ache, especially your chest and cunt. It seems your nipples and clit are severely swollen, and you mean to feel your cunt gape from being used so much.

Just as you are grinding your teeth, the researcher in charge enters the room and starts praising you for another job well done. But you have no mind to entertain them, waving your hand and letting them quickly leave so you can wash.

And as it turns out, this is truly necessary. Getting out of the capsule makes the diving suit rub against your overstimulated nipples and other spots, leaving you trembling as you wobble over to the bathroom. Undressing is the next hurdle, once again especially tormenting your nipples that have actually doubled in size.

Once out of the suit filled with sweat and slick, you hop under the shower. The water drops that normally feel like a light massage now seem to pound your skin, and one wrong turn elicits an unexpected moan.

You quickly cover your mouth, but your cunt is already throbbing again.

Not knowing what you are thinking, you reach down, trembling at your own touch grazing your clit. And then you gasp. Your cunt has been stretched so much you can easily fit three fingers inside, and you are still so sensitive that just unskillfully fingering yourself makes you orgasm outside of the dream.