inez has stopped screaming

S: A rough, delighted laugh comes out of me—it’s rare I can make you swear like that. And the way you try to scrabble… And the way the plug is swallowed up, just the faintest schlick as your hole clenches down tight on it…

… I think I have a new core memory.

“Yes! We’re gonna keep her inside you as long as we can! Keep her alive as long as we can! Dare scratch you. How dare she. Prey.” Odd to make the word I bear so proudly sound like invective, but I’m clearly somewhere else right now.

You can feel part of what’s coming next with the way I shuffle into position between your legs. I have just enough presence of mind to let you finish your swig before I sink myself into your pussy, giving yet another part of your accommodating body something to contain and squeeze. One surprise: As I stroke into you my public bone strikes the buttplug base, kicking it within the constricting walls of your rectum. It’s a little like being fucked in both holes at once.

The second surprise: My hands, wrapped around your gut, bear-hug Inez into position. Her head, so carefully placed, emerges from that soup of Argentinian cuisine. It presses down on your guts and pussy from within, tightening the embrace, increasing the sensation. From within your gut we use your dinner to stroke you off.

R: Once I find rhythm i operate like an expert. My sloshing guts rock me back and forth as if upon the sea, and I drink in time with it. Wine occasionally spills from the corners of my mouth, sprinkling down onto my heavy tits and scattering on the carpet. oops. and as the bottle glugs down my oesophagus, I crane back, my bum getting heavier and veavier upon you before I’m sitting on your lap, chin to the cieling as I drink as if howling at the moon. Once’s its inside me entirely, I release a few satisfied, gurgling belches and stroke my damp stomach , kneading my breasts together and clenching my thighs around you as I grind. I’m intensely heavy. As my thoughts cloud, I’ll have a harder job keeping her alive inside me. that’ll be up to you.

K: Would that I were more than one man. Watching as you chug down Inez’s penultimate gift to you I’m gripped with a weird kind of melancholia. I want to give you it all. You deserve it all: to be bloated with squirming, screaming prey; to be fed, to drink, to fuck; to have a dozen hands massaging and worshiping you: reaffirming the beautiful, deadly topography of your body.

The sensation passes with the next stroke into you. While your body visits me with such pleasure I could go blind, you accept me and just set to drinking. I’m not insecure. I know you’re going to cum time and again tonight. It just feels so right: that you take what’s given as though it’s your birthright.

Inez has stopped screaming and that’s a bad sign. A bubbling sound makes me realise: she’s basically drowning with her face pushed in a pool of meat, wine, blood and your digestive juices. Even as your weight threatens to crush my hips I heave your thick gut in my arms. By some miracle, or its opposite, Inez slides through red soup in your darkness, letting her head breach the surface and find air.

The glide inside you is too much. Her tumble makes you acutely aware of how packed your guts are. The bottle falls from a limp hand as you embark on an orgasm that starts around your belly button and radiates in numbing waves of bliss through your whole belly.

Both your partners cry out. Inez calls in pain as your stomach spasms and crushes her. Do her joints pop? Is a thigh bone caught at a bad angle and snapped inside abdominal walls like a vice? Does the first layer of her skin slough off into a stew of beef, pork, chicken and human? And the involuntary clenching of your pussy drives me over the edge and I sit up as your cunt drinks everything I have to give. All my strength goes into rocking against you, and even then I can barely move you.

Our turmoil passes; hers doesn’t. She doesn’t beg with words any more: just sounds like any trapped animal in pain.

“Fuuuuck, you’re heavy,” I say in between panting gasps. You brush your hair behind your ear and lean back to nuzzle reflexively against my throat.

If you bite me, I’m as good as dead. If I allow your weight to collapse me down you will drink and consume me, as surely as you did Inez. So with love, I fight for my life.

A groping hand fights through the thickening morasse in your gut to find your passenger and pushes her away. Your bite is forestalled by a hot, metallic gush of air as that simple move summons a bench from deep within. I press harder and you begin to overbalance, slipping backwards onto the carpet. I slip out from you and almost lose a femur to the shifting weight, but hold steady. Your butt flattens against the floor and Inez’s weight bears you down.

In truth I can think of seven ways you could have defeated my escape, including merely asking. I’d have held still while you took your time in bleeding me. I’d have told you I loved you then leaned forward as your mouth closed over me for the final time. That’s how I know your bite would have been the animal part of you and not the whole of you.

Whimpering from under your ribs, muffled by a shelf of fat and your awesome boobs. She is losing herself to you slowly and surely.

Let’s help her do just that, shall we?