fern screamed so much
(Closing section of last Friday’s kiss, as a reminder.)
There’s a hesitation, but self-preservation or something kicks in. While I thrust deep inside you, Allison crushes Fern’s squirming body beneath her own and feverishly massages your clit. Into your ear she continues to murmur: “you’d fucking eat me too, wouldn’t you? How many people can you cram into your fat guts?”
Beset by pleasure inside, behind and afore, you nevertheless snatch a moment of lucidity and grab her by the hair. “I’ll eat. Your whole life. Turn your friends. Your family. To shit.” She stares at you, terrified and worshipful. Neither of us stop drilling you. “You’ll be last. When I lie back. Your squirming won’t even ripple my belly.”
I make a pained gasp. Your speech and your tightness has brought me far too close to cumming. You tense around me, squashing my self-control, reminding me who is in charge. I approach my climax, praying I’ve given you enough.
Tears in her eyes again. She believes you. With her fingers buried soft in your pussy, lust fights horror on her face. “Please…”
It’s not clear what she’s begging for. And then it doesn’t matter. Pleasure overwhelms you like a thunderclap. Everything is whiteout and your whole body floods with heat. Fat-buried abs strong enough to move your bulk suddenly clench, then tighten, then redouble, till the scraping-rock sound of splintering signals the destruction of your prey. Allison feels it all. Without even being touched, she screams with an orgasm of her own. You drive me over the edge. We are all three your playthings.
Allison’s place is closest, being on campus. We end up there because you are in no mood to travel. Still, the walk across St George’s field feels like a trudge, made doubly hard by the backwash of pleasure and double again by the sheer weight of carrying an entire human being beneath your fat. Your leg muscles stand out like body builders’ as they compensate for the bulk held out in front.
The building is stone-fronted red brick stock that has been converted into flats. As we ascend the stairs to the first floor, Allison grows visibly more agitated. “Please don’t be in. Don’t be in. Don’t be in.”
“Expecting someone?” I ask, in the literal rear as I watch you climb the stairs. Your legs are frankly Olympian but they shake with exertion hauling you and your take upstairs. You’re tired out from sex and food. If you fall backwards you’ll crush me, but hell, I’ll break your fall, which is good enough for me.
“My roommate. He’s out, though. He should be out. Been staying with his girlfriend a lot. Let him be out.”
We reach the landing, where the sway of your hips on the last step resolves a knot of tension in your lower belly as a gust of wind. Fern is working herself deep through your system. You don’t pay it any mind, but fix Allison with a stare.
“I told you I’ll eat your friends. Don’t you want to feed me him, too?”
Allison tries to nod and shake her head at the same time. Her lips press together as she fights to hold back the flood of emotion.
“You came to me, remember, Allison. You’re in pretty duuUUuoOOrp— deep now. ‘Scuse me.”
I step up after you onto the landing. Poor thing looks so much like she’s going to cry.
She dithers. “I know. I know, Raven. I just— Fern screamed so much…”
I open my mouth to say something but you get there first. Speaking surprisingly gently, you step forward and take her hand. “It’s okay to be upset. Honestly, I don’t understand what’s going on in the minds of prey like you two. It’s hell in my tummy. But it’s your home, now. You understand that, right?”
Allison sniffles and nods, momentarily soothed. She gives you a tiny smile that crinkles up her nose. But then she remembers it’s not just her on the line, and the tears threaten to come again. “But my… everyone…”
You watch her for a moment, considering. And then you pull her closer. The same gut she pressed and orgasmed against earlier now feels so much softer, even after an hour. “It’s okay. I can take all this doubt away.”
She stiffens and visibly fights the urge to fight. Even when you tenderly cup the back of her head and make her bare her throat, she only closes her eyes. You feel a shudder of lust run through her when your parted lips place a circle around her familiar pulse point. “I thought I had more time…”
Your answer is the deep kiss of two lethal fangs in her flesh. They puncture then withdraw so she can flow freely into your mouth. You stem the flow with your tongue to take your time savouring her taste: blood slightly perfumed with lust, slightly sweet with fear.
As you swallow, you don’t just take blood. Her soul, tied to her body with with craft more ancient than any you currently recall, frays at your feeding. You press your conquerer soul against her.
She experiences you like an epiphany. Those you consume drown in you: she, still technically not having been consumed, nevertheless feels the draw like a terrifying undertow. She desperately tries to hold her sense of self together and not be sucked into your vortex.
I don’t know if you realise what you look like to us mortals. Your soul has mastered and subsumed so many of ours. You are so solid. Like a natural law.
Both she and I are a little surprised when you kiss her wound closed and swallow the last mouthful. A few pints added to your middle, putting pressure back on the insides of your ribs. The sloppy, sloshing belly and the taste of blood makes you feel like an engorged leech.
You release her and let her stagger back, hand on her throat. She stares at you with wonder. “What did you do?”
“Took away the doubt.”
A few moments of staring: then she abruptly spins, unlocks her door, and enters. From inside we can hear her calling. “Daniel? Daniel? … Mel?”
I put my hand on the small of your back. The contents of your gut jostle beneath the surface. I desire more than anything else to massage your bulk and send you off to a well-deserved sleep. “What did you do to her? … While you fed her eyes rolled back and everything. Did you do something to her mind?”
You smirk. Perhaps remembering certain Invitations you have made in the past. “I could have. Torn away a strip of her soul, made her mine. But no.”
The front door opens. Allison is frowning. “He’s out, the bugger. Sorry. Come on in.”
I look from her to you again. You give me a wink. “It’s easy to take away doubt. I just gave her the excuse to follow her heart’s desire.” You sashay into the flat with rather more smugness than you had a moment ago.
“Guess the magic was within her all along. Hey, I would have chosen you, soul stealing or no!” I hustle in after you. The door closes on the sound of you giggling.