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Ankhrea had never experienced sleep paralysis before. It was worse than he thought. The feeling of being trapped in his own body was frightening enough even without the presence of something horrible in his once-cozy bedroom. There was a figure in the shadows. Not one he could see, but he could feel. Pure, concentrated malice radiated from a place in the corner. Sheer hostility in living form stood above his half-sleeping form, and he couldn't do anything about it. It all felt so real. Especially when it spoke.

"Annie. Sweetie. Did you forget about what you promised me?"

It knew his name. Worse, it knew something he had tried to push from his mind. It all made sense now. A promise once made, now to be fulfilled. The words alone, spoken in a sickly-sweet tone that dripped with hatred for his mortal self, for his very nature of being, drove him to chills. Each syllable felt as if it was digging deep into his mind, rattling his sense of reality. He felt as if it would have been easy to simply give in and go laughing mad from a single sentence, but he held onto his shaken sanity for the moment.

She came slithering from the shadows in all her slimy glory. He knew her from a glance. Six white eyes surrounded the slash of her eternal, glowing smile. Senka had come to collect on a deal made so very long ago. She was no demon, nothing of the planet on which he dwelt. She came from somewhere so much darker, somewhere that looked down upon squishy mortals like him. Her power kept him bound to the bed. He wasn't entirely sure if it was by her own eldritch command that he was stiffening for her, no matter the fear he might have felt. It might have come from simply looking up and down her sleek, shining curves, so very soft, so ample, so motherly in every way.

Such beauty was twisted by her monstrous visage and presence. It was a mockery of the gentle, motherly form bordering on blasphemous. She was a nightmare that walked, drifting through the veil, crossing into his waking life. He experienced every kind of terror at once. The fear for his flesh, for his soul, for the fates beyond death she could so easily inflict upon him. He knew she was that powerful. It emanated off of her. She tipped her head one way, and then the other, but he couldn't track even the smallest twitch from her. She blurred before his eyes, scrambled his mind, and left him recoiling into the bed as if to sink right through it. His heart pounded as if to break through his ribs, his breath came short in his throat, his eyes watered with the fear that made him want to weep, and still she smiled on.

"You told me I could take anything I wanted. So I'm going to take everything."

He told her no such thing. She was twisting his words, spoken so long ago. He'd never agreed to let her lay a finger on him. Much less her entire self. The most control he had over his body was to shudder in horror as she laid herself across his much smaller form like a slippery blanket. She was oddly cool to the touch, in such a way that evoked thoughts of snuggling deep under the blankets, safe and snug. The sergal found his face suitably wedged between her breasts when she hugged herself to his paralyzed form, weighing down him with her enormous shapes, her heft, her squish. Pressing her belly down on his ribs brought all the air out of his lungs until he was wheezing into her cleavage, and she didn't stop at just that.

Though it might have looked as if she was snuggling, wiggling back and forth like that , she soon put such pressure on his chest that he felt something crack. It wasn't the pop of a joint. Any hope that he might have been dreaming faded away when the very real pain flooded his perception. His vision went red with the effort to cry out, but he couldn't so much as whimper. She was free to hurt him any way she liked as her mortal plaything. At least she rose up from his face before he could fully suffocate. He still felt as if he was close, with her sitting her enormous ass down on his thighs and hips, staring into his mind and soul with her featureless eyes, the curved slash of a wicked smile never fading from her face.

"You'll be a good boy, won't you Annie? You'll cum for momma Senka as many times as she wants, no matter how sore you get, won't you?"

Every word from her mouth left him flinching, gritting his teeth until it felt like they might crack, just to deal with the intrusive, probing sensation in his mind that came with hearing her voice. It grew no better when she slipped back and seized him by the cock. Despite his terror, he couldn't soften. It must have been one of her tricks. She roughly pulled on his blue shaft, tsk tsking at the size of it. Compared to her, anyone was small, but that didn't stop her from rising up and bringing herself right down on him to envelop him in the velvety embrace of her sopping wet pussy.

The size difference didn't matter for long. She tightened up around his shaft so firmly it felt as if she might snap it off. His body slowly became his own again, but it was of no help to him. He could try to squirm and struggle against her, but his shoving at her thighs did absolutely nothing to slow her down or even distract her. She held him inside of her, kneading, nearly crushing his cock with the forceful grip of her clenching down on him. Yet even as she abused him, there was pleasure too, slipping and sliding into her impossibly wet depths. He only got harder once she rose up smoothly and came down hard on his hips, even if the consequences of her throwing around all that weight were swiftly apparent.

He watched the blurred streak of light that was her glowing smile going up and down, watched her breasts and belly bouncing, and he felt her ass slam down over his hips and legs alike each time she plunged him inside of her to the very hilt. The impact sent shockwaves through her curves just as it shook his very skeleton. His hips absorbed much of the impact, and soon there came the pain to go along with the forbidden pleasure of being forced to fuck the eldritch being. The crack of his bones sent agony shooting all the way down to his toes, and she most certainly didn't stop when he whimpered out to her.

"Please ... you're hurting me ..."

Senka slowly nodded, as if to confirm that was precisely the intent. Her expression didn't change. Her voice emanated from deep within her, leaving her lips unmoving.

"Every time you cum for mommy, you're going to lose a little piece of yourself forever. Doesn't that sound nice, my sweetest one?"

Even as she relentlessly broke him with her brutal pounding on his hips, twisting one of his legs into an unnatural position, she still brought him pleasure beyond his wildest imaginings. The schlurp and schlurk of her sloppy cunt hugging all around his cock left him twitching, left him uncontrollably spurting for her. His tribute welled up inside of him, milked out by the constant throbbing grip that squeezed him so relentlessly. She sang to him as she forced him to fuck her, letting a hellish lullaby spill from her open mouth, its words unknown to him but evoking some deep, primal fear nonetheless.

As he gazed upon her, watching her form shift and bend through reality, watching her nightmare curves bouncing up and down, he felt more and more as if he understood what she truly was. She was so much worse than a simple monster who could hurt and kill him. What she had in store for him was more than he ever knew was possible. In rising panic, he scrambled to push her off of him, thrashing violently, but nothing he did brought him even the briefest respite. She was going to claim what she desired and there was nothing he could do about it.

Smashing her weight down onto his shattered bones, she took him to the hilt and held him there, rapidly pumping all around him. The stimulation pushed him to what was still the greatest orgasm of his entire life, even with half his body broken to uselessness and pain wracking his every nerve. With tears streaming down his features, his mouth hanging open in a scream of terror, or agony, and of ecstasy all at once, he gave everything to the dark goddess from beyond the stars, even if it meant never having some piece of him back.

Cumming inside her was merely the start of the tribute she demanded. She took his seed and she took his mind. He could feel her in there, on some level. She prodded, she tugged, and in the end she dislodged some vital piece of what made him him, and it was gone forever. Consumed, perhaps, or just thrown away. He felt the absence there as coldly as any physical horror. He knew he'd never be the same, even if she didn't kill him. What had once defined Ankhrea had been ripped apart, and he didn't even know what was missing.

She arched her back and gave a few more firm thrusts down onto his dick to keep him cumming until it hurt a little. Even after he was drained, she made him keep twitching inside her, dry-firing as if to show her just how much he loved her pussy. He couldn't soften. Trying to focus on it didn't do anything. His cock remained utterly stiff inside of her, ready for another round, even if it meant suffering through the overstimulation along with all the other pain of what she was doing to his much smaller, comparatively fragile body.

At least some of him was going numb. He couldn't feel much below the hips anymore. His sensitive shaft tingled in pain at getting jammed in and out of her all over again, but his legs were a mangled mess, practically pasted by the repeated slams of her weighty backside. She stretched and posed for him, running her hands through her tentacle-like tendrils of hair, she cupped her breasts, she stroked along the wide outline of her hips. It all might have been sex if he wasn't being tormented by her body, and silently screaming in existential terror. His voice rasped with the attempt to let out a real scream, to at the very least cry out so that someone out there in the world might hear him, even if it was far too late. She quickly put an end to that.

The sucking squelch of her many tentacles emerging from her back made him shudder. She kept her pussy pumping down on him, forcing him towards another strained climax despite how much she'd drained from him already. The eels that were those many slime-coated appendages approached him like a swarm, overtaking him and binding him as if to suppress his struggles. There wasn't much strength left in the arms she stretched out in both directions, but it left him all the more vulnerable to her whims nonetheless. Those lewdly dripping things bobbed and danced as if each contained a little mind, before striking with cobra-like swiftness, taking their targets and penetrating whatever they could.

The most obvious place to start was his mouth, leaving him to choke and gag as that slimy thing wriggled straight down his throat. It slipped and slopped, fucking in and out of his strained gullet, cutting off all attempts at breathing. Yet even suffocating him like that, she wasn't quite satisfied knowing there was even a chance he could get any air. Another tentacle wound its way around his throat and strangled him with a snakelike strength, coiling tightly to ensure he didn't get a single gulp of oxygen. That should have been enough to kill him after a minute or two of panicked, straining pain in his chest, but his body wouldn't die. She wouldn't let him just yet.

There was still so much cum to harvest from him. Even if he thought he couldn't possibly have more to give, she was going to make him find a way. The tentacles around his arms stretched him out farther and farther until it felt like she was going to tear his limbs right off. Instead, she gave a sudden yank in the opposite direction simply for the delight of breaking the strained bones there. Another cry scraped and rasped up from his throat like the rest. She mangled him until he was completely helpless to defend himself from her constant need for his pleasure, unable to even slightly lessen the blow of her hips and ass endlessly coming down on his broken body, driving him directly into her greedy pussy. She showed no mercy, even when she'd inflicted more pain than his mind was ever meant to endure.

Another surging orgasm left him firing deep inside her, gushing hard despite how much strain and overstimulation it put him through. She wanted his cum, and so she took it, draining it deep from within him at the same time as she broke his mind a little more. Bits and pieces of his personality drained out of him the longer he came for her, until he was shaking all over with barely-suppressed laughter. No world where such a horrible thing could be inflicted upon him was one worth staying sane for. There was no god but Senka, no one to save him from her endless cruelty, no life after death but the void, and he finally understood.

That didn't last for long. He fell apart at the seams until he barely knew what was going on anymore, or why she was doing such terrible things to him. Every moment was one he rediscovered the horror at her presence as if seeing her there for the first time. It was so hard to think. There were holes within, and he didn't know what once filled them. His mind felt as if it could have collapsed at any moment. Of course she could still do worse. Reaching out with her many tentacles, touching, groping, examining his face, she soon found a way inside his head wherever she could make it. The slippery tentacles nearly deafened him with their splorching sounds echoing within his ears as she deeply penetrated them, reaching right in to scramble his brain herself.

He felt the connections being severed, the logic being drained from him. Memories faded away as if dissolved right out of his skull as she probed within his head. She stirred his grey matter up and left him as little more than a perceiving vessel, thoughtless but for one single thing she left intact. The fear, the thick, exquisite horror lingered on for her to drink from his dying body. He was nothing more than a mass of meat meant only to fear her, and that was what finally satisfied her enough to kill him. Rising up and down on a cock that was somehow still stiff inside of her, smashing what little of his lower body remained intact, she pushed a tentacle deeper into the base of his brain and severed even more connections. The emptiness that loomed before him threatened to swallow him whole.

With such direct access to his mind, she could press any button she wanted. Playing with him like he was nothing more than a switchboard, she poked and prodded, draining him, breaking him, but also applying pleasure directly to the places meant to receive it. All she needed to do was prod right in that certain spot, and he came for her. Of course she took to abusing that, jamming her tentacle against his orgasm centre so he kept shooting his load over and over, or at least going through the motions of doing so when he simply had no seed left to fill that tender nightmare pussy.

It was as if he was shooting his very thoughts out with every painful, strained flex and throb of his overstimulated cock. She wouldn't let him stop. Drilling deep, stirring around all the places around where her tentacles were embedded, she wiped away everything but for the sensations that remained within his nerves. His eyes were dull, his mouth was hanging slack by then. A drooling, empty sergal cumming for mama again and again was the entire purpose of his existence. She milked him, she emptied him, she drained him until he was nothing more than a shuddering, stupefied husk. Yet some part of him, some preserved part in the mush that had been his mind, his self remained undisturbed by the tentacles working like a blender in his brain. It was just enough to feel the loss of what she'd taken from him, to know she could have kept that way forever. There was a sergal there, but he was gone, never to know who he was again, if she so wished.

Instead, she put an end to him when he was of no more use. Death came swiftly when she turned a tentacle just slightly to the left. All it took was tweaking what was left of his mind and breaking the very stem right off as easily as a crisp vegetable. He gave a violent jolt, and somehow in the midst of his complete identity death there were still enough nerve impulses left in him to cum for her one last time. It was a pleasureless offering, a simple convulsing of the muscles that made his hips buck up into her flooded pussy, his last tribute before she sent him into oblivion.

Yet for all the relief that might have come with death, it didn't linger. He got to experience all the terror of dying with none of the peace. She forced him to come back for her just as quickly as she'd killed him. They were there again, in that moonlit bedroom. Or wherever the light was coming from. He no longer could see the door, nor any windows. It was a cell where he was sealed with her, bathing in her glowing light. She was the only moon in that endless nightmare, and she had him laid across her knee, feeling more vulnerable than ever.

"Oh, Annie. Did you really think you could just die on me? I control who goes there, who stays there. Anything I want can be mine. And right now I want you."

"I want ..." he began, but he wasn't sure how to finish. Someone? Something? Anything but the moment he was trapped inside.

"There is no one. Nothing. It is only us. I have made sure of it."

Her explanation was cold and direct, in contrast to her usual faux sweetness. That was how he knew it was true. Beyond that room, there was nothing left. Maybe she had consumed it, blotted it out in her darkness. Maybe it had never been more than an illusion conjured up by her unfathomable power, merely for the sake of taking it away from him one dark night. She let him dwell in that realization for a time, his lip trembling, his eyes watering as the reality - or lack thereof - dawned on him. Then she spoke in that familiar teasing tone once more.

"You have been a very bad boy."

Before he had a chance to say anything, she yanked his fluffy tail up out of the way and spanked him. That wasn't to say she gave him a gentle slap on the ass. Instead, she brought her heavy hand down to slam against both cheeks with the force of a battering ram and the sharpness of a whip. There was a SMACK so loud it hurt his ears, but that was far from the worst pain. She slapped him so hard he felt like his spine folded in on itself, or shattered into a hundred pieces. His whole bottom half down to his toes went numb in the aftermath of the colossal blow, and yet the stinging pain on his skin where there was surely a red outline of her hand beneath his fur remained. He screamed out in surprise at first, falling to writhing and whimpering soon after. Then she did it again.

The second impact fell upon his tenderized flesh, as if to smash him into a pulp with nothing more than a harsh smack on the butt. She was doing damage to him, more than just hurting him. One of his legs slipped out of his joint, bending awkwardly as his soft body absorbed the forceful strike. He curled his hands into fists and felt himself lightly bleeding where she'd given him that spine-shattering spank. Then there was a third, worse than ever. And a fourth. Amidst agonized cries, he managed to spill out some pleading words.

"Please, Senka, I don't ... !"

He wanted to say he didn't know why she was doing this, why it was all happening to him, but it didn't matter. Whether there were past sins of his to be punished, or cruelty alone was the purpose of her nighttime visit, she was getting what she wanted. That was all that would ever matter. It wasn't just his ass that hurt. Everything was tingling with strange alarm sequels, as if his body didn't even know what to do with so much pain. At least she'd stopped spanking him. That was when the squelching began.

The sound was vaguely familiar to him, though he could hardly remember the horror of his previous death. The tentacles swept in on him one at a time, wrapping all around his body, intertwining him in a tangle of slimy appendages like smooth, slippery snakes. They writhed all around him, horrifically groping him, leaving him feel as if buried in eels before she found her spot. With him all stretched out, she could constrict and coil him with alarming pressure, getting some good crunches out of his bones to add to the overall pain he was feeling. Then she went for his throat.

An organic collar looped around his neck and clamped down tightly. He loudly choked, but no amount of struggling could get his hands up to fight against her strangling him. It wouldn't have mattered. He knew she was stronger than him. Bouncing and bobbing her plaything about in her tentacles, she squeezed down hard on his throat until it felt like she was going to crush his windpipe, or simply snap his neck. No such mercy came. She sang her sickly song to him, serenading him with that mind-damping lullaby, and brought even more of her tentacles into play.

These ones were much thicker. The first pushed up against his lips, throbbing lewdly, spitting out a thick fluid that clung to his features and wouldn't drip off. His whole face was coated in her slime by the time she forced it past her lips and made him stretch his jaw around a fat, wriggling thing that was far too big to ever fit in his throat. He instantly took to choking on it when she forced it down, suffocating by the moment, but she wasn't about to let a little gagging get in the way of the sloppy facefuck she wanted.

Nor was she going to consider just how sore and tender he still was after all the spanking. Another of those thick, treetrunk tentacles pushed up under his restrained tail. She kept his ass raised, kept him on offer to her, and then she began to wetly penetrate him with a feeling like spilling warm liquid inside him. After that came the stretching. What should have torn him apart simply pushed and strained him well beyond his limits, leaving him to wince and shudder in her grasp when he couldn't scream at the sensation of getting forcefully fucked by a tentacle so enormous it obscenely bulged his belly with its incursion into his hurting body.

From there a squelching spitroast was to be his fate. Senka sat and sang to him, passively observing her tentacles at play, as if they were the ones doing all the work apart from her. She fucked him from both sides until his belly was stuffed with the juices spurting from her tentacles, and even when he was overflowing with what felt like thick, especially viscous precum, she kept going. The juices dribbled down from his lips and ass alike as those tentacles stiffened inside him with her apparent pleasure. They had been at least squishy and malleable despite their size when she jammed them inside him. The stiffer they got, the harder she fucked him, straining him, suffocating him, but refusing to let him die once more.

He couldn't count the minutes he'd been completely without oxygen. It should have killed him. His chest blazed and his head was spinning as if he was right about to pass out, yet even when he tried to fade out once more, the lights simply wouldn't switch off. She held him there on the verge of death but never quite teetering over. There was no ecstasy in his dying moments. Only pain, and the sucking, slurping sound of his body being violated from end to end. Those tentacles met in the middle inside him once they had writhed all the way to his stomach, and there they throbbed together, coating the inner walls in their ever-thickening juices.

"Ohhh, Annie." Senka moaned so sweetly despite the hell she was putting him through. She made sure he could hear her cumming for him.

That climax came with a rush of warmth travelling up the two stiff, impaling tentacles inside of him. Then there came the eruption of something like cum. He felt it coating him within, tainting him, corrupting him. It filled him to such an engorged state he was certain he was going to burst. His lungs felt as if they might combust for the burning pain aching through them, but she just kept cumming, choking him, crushing him ever so slightly, stuffing his belly for minute after minute of breathless, agonizing orgasm. Only then did she relent, but not for long.

Wrenching the tentacles out of him turned him into a fountain. With the pressure released, he hosed down his bedroom - or what had once been his bedroom - with all that eldritch cum that wouldn't fit in his strained body. He was barely holding together, and letting that out hardly helped. It poured from his ass and mouth alike, leaving him choking on it too hard to even get the air he so desperately needed. Only when he'd coughed up gallons of the thick mess did he manage one single gasp of sweet, relieving air. It wasn't nearly enough to douse the fire inside of him before she latched onto him with her tail.

It struck like the fattest serpent at all, snatching him from the grip of her tentacles to instead coil him from shoulders down to ankles in that slick, muscular grip. She dragged him back and squeezed him tight, pressing his arms firmly to his sides, clamping his legs together, and most of all forcing even more of her own juices right back out of him. It poured down from his rear, it splashed out from his open mouth, and he couldn't make a single sound but for the gargling and gurgling that rolled up from his throat. Her grip was unbreakable, and the strength of her thick tail closed in on him tighter and tighter. Yet for all the physical harm she did to him, bringing him around to her front side, still encased in her tail's grasp, was far worse. He saw her for what she really was, then.

Losing himself in the endless light of her eyes, in the deathly moonlight that glimmered from her eternal smile, he could only scream. It was one of pain for one, but also of the horror that came with glimpsing the unthinkable. Her eldritch beauty shook him to the very core, even as it blurred before his eyes. She squeezed tighter, and tighter. He felt his shoulders give out under all the pressure, popping out of their joints. Then his ribs began to crunch inwards, snapped like little twigs in her infinite strength. His hips, his legs twisted and popped, crackling wetly. The slick, slimy touch oozed thicker the closer she brought him to death. Maybe that was her own excitement coming out.

"I'll see you soon, sweetie," she told him as he neared the precipice.

It was enough damage to have killed him a dozen times over, with his bones poking into his body, his every joint dislocated, his limbs crushed nearly to dust. Yet she made sure he didn't pass out or simply die until she was ready. She kept him there, teetering on the edge, suspended in crushing agony, and she upped the pressure a little more, little more. He was choking not on her juices, but on his own blood by then. His head felt like it could simply pop. It was only when she squeezed inwards with her anaconda-like tail so firmly that there was nearly nothing left to squeeze that he heard the sound of his own death.

CRNNNCH

It rang in his ears for the fleeting final moments of his consciousness. Then he fell back into the void, twitching in her grasp, dead once more but ever so shortly. He would have welcomed nothingness if it meant being away from her. It wasn't to be. He heard the snap of her fingers, and there was his body once more, sprawled out on his bed like it had been nothing more than a nightmare. For the briefest moment, he didn't see her, but he felt her there. Then he glimpsed her six-eyed smile, glowing there at the foot of his bed, bathing him in ghostly light as she slipped up between his legs. Her fangs were on full display, dripping with lustful hunger. When he found he couldn't move to flinch away, he simply begged her.

"No no no, please, not that, don't -"

Whether it was fear or otherworldly power, she silenced him with a single question. "Why not?"

Planting her hands on both sides of his hips, she lingered there, breathing over his balls like a cool wind through a window. "

"Don't you trust me? I only want to make you feel good. To give you what you need. You're so excited for me, aren't you Annie?"

On command, his cock began to rise for her. He tried to crawl away, but she pulled him in as if she had her own gravity, like a living black hole. As something who existed only to destroy and erase, she probably wasn't far from one. Opening wide to make sure he could see all of her teeth gleaming for him, she stretched out her tongue to wrap it all around his shaft. Drawing it into her mouth left him flinching, left him crying out in anticipation of what he was sure was inevitable. Yet for the first time since arriving, there was no pain, only pleasure. She licked him and jerked his shaft with the coiling of her tongue, drawing him in until her jaws were wrapped around his entire crotch just to let her ravenously suck him off all the better.

She soon was absolutely schlurping him, leaving him to squirm for a different reason. It was too good, too much pleasure for one soft sergal. He was whimpering and kicking his legs meekly for her, but she simply held him down to make sure he couldn't get away from that sloppy suck. Bobbing up and down with a pair of plump, pursed lips - something she didn't normally have, but had shifted to just for him - left him intensely stimulated. Clutching at his head just to try to bear it was hardly adequate. He was crying out, moaning hard, but even in the throes of overwhelming pleasure, he dared not ask her to slow down. That could only lead to consequences he wouldn't like.

Showing him no mercy whatsoever, she sped right up, sucking, slurping, swallowing his cock until it was twitching madly between her lips. Every single throb sent a second-long spurt of precum straight into her slimy throat. He could hear her gulping it down in hungry, wet gluks and coming back for more. She swallowed his entire cock just so he could feel her gullet working all around it as if to steal it. He still expected something terrible to happen to him at any moment, whether she was to bite, to tear, to hurt him before he could reach the peak of his pleasure and ruin all the sloppy buildup. Instead, she made him cum.

His cry of bliss was all the more overpowering thanks to the danger of the situation. It made him throb all the harder, made him pour out his seed into her waiting throat in constant, thick shots that she was ever so swift to guzzle down. She drank from him second after second, pushing his pleasure on and on, until he swore he was going to break somehow. His mind was empty, his body was a vessel for the climax she kept forcing out of him, and he came inside her wet mouth until he had absolutely nothing more to give. That didn't mean she was done with him.

As his pleasure faltered and his cumshot subsided, her succulent sucks turned from gift into curse. She kept working his overstimulated self a little longer, kept bobbing up and down as if to drain even more from a set of sergal balls that were simply empty. She'd already claimed more of his cum than he usually shot out in the span of a single week. Yet she kept going back to the dry well, working,licking, sliding up and down while he whined and uselessly pushed at her muzzle as he had a hope of dislodging her.

She didn't stop until he was numb. He couldn't even feel his cock once she was done sucking out every last trace of fluid he could provide her. When she finally slopped off that oversucked shaft, she left him twitching, an arm sprawled over his face, his teeth still clenched. She didn't pounce on him, despite how vulnerable he was in such a moment. Instead, she scooped him up in her arms and pulled him from the bed. He flopped limply into her embrace, falling against her bust, panting, drooling. Her body was so soft it felt as if he might sink into her slime, but instead she cupped her palm under his pointed muzzle to make him look up at her madness-inducing beauty.

"You've been such a good boy for momma. Won't you give me a nice kiss?"

She brought him closer and closer, her eyes gleaming, the depths of her throat glowing brightly, yet coldly. He never had to shield his gaze from the ghostly light, but looking into it for too long left him feeling strangely hollow. It was as if a piece of him was simply being taken, by her presence alone. He shivered and shook his head lightly, a token refusal she was swift to ignore. There was no stopping her from bringing in to get what she wanted. It wasn't a smooch. It was something much deeper. With a weakened gasp in place of a scream that failed to leave his throat, he found himself slipping between her fangs, snout sliding along her outstretched tongue to get closer to her darkly throbbing gullet.

To be tasted was a horror all its own, but he knew it was going to get so much worse. Senka clutched him by the rump and held him there, sucking all around his head, bathing him in thick drool until he felt as if he might simply drown. She bathed him and stole his flavour away, and she didn't need to have her mouth free to speak her sickly sweet words right into his ears.

"Sweetest boy. I could eat you right up."

He knew it was coming, but it was all the worse to hear it. She swallowed hard. The force of her gullet wrapping him up and tugging him down clenched so tightly around his skull that he felt something give way. There was a wet scrunch and then there came the spasms all throughout his body as he lost control over most of his muscles. Twitching his way deeper into her powerful swallows, he looked unlikely to even stay whole through the process of being eaten alive. She gulped so hard she shattered his shoulders, then she cracked his ribs as he sank deeper and deeper into her inner light. He was never fully sealed in darkness, wrapped up in her slimy body. He got to see everything that was happening to him as she mulched and pulped his soft, squishing body all the way down.

By the time she worked down to his waist, he was all but paralyzed. His legs dangled limply from her jaws, his spine was smashed, his brain was barely functioning. Yet she made sure to do only enough damage that he would surely feel it when she bit down on his hips and ass, shattering through his pelvis is one big crushing chomp. She didn't even pierce his skin. The strength of her jaws alone was enough to break him inside, to leave him a helpless sack of meat sliding down her throat in one last long, smooth swallow. She made sure the sound resonated all around him, slick and soaking with all the slimy walls sliding past him. He rushed straight down and thudded into the humid embrace of her belly in a pile of twisted limbs, silently tormented and helpless but to wait for that chamber to eradicate him.

"Don't worry, sweetie. I won't digest you. I'm just going to hold you nice and tight, like a special inner hug just for you."

She was telling him the truth, in her way. He didn't spend long inside of her. There were no juices, no acids to worry about. It was just a tight, wet chamber squeezing on his broken body. Then it was squeezing a little tighter, and tighter. The force built up, pressing his broken limbs into even more awkward shapes. There was a slow, extended crrnnnnch of even more damage being done until he was balled up into a shape he shouldn't have been able to survive. She made sure she did. He needed to be alive for the grand finale of her devouring him. It came suddenly, but not so quickly he didn't feel it.

The walls closed in on him so tightly in a great, wet flex that he heard the crackling of every last bone he had left in his body. His head got forced up near his ankles, his knees bent straight back in a way they were never supposed to, and his neck snapped to the side in a way that surely should have sealed the deal. Yet instead she left him to slowly unfurl from that mangled ball, to feel everything she'd done to him for a few seconds longer. Only when she was satisfied that he'd stewed in agony, deep down inside her heavy belly, did she squeeze down again and finish him off.

He heard the messy CRUNCH like a shout, but the pain didn't fully set in before she'd killed him yet again. Waking up to her laying over him startled him into sheer panic. She was propped up on her hands and knees, shadowing his prone form, sagging the bed down to the floor under her weight. The room was smaller. Or she was bigger. He couldn't tell. The walls could barely contain her heft, her massive, motherly curves. What had been a bedroom was more like a cell, with no exits. There was no escape, nowhere to go, and every movement only brought him closer to her, to be ruined again.

"Oh, sweetie. How did you get so delicious? Do you know how nice it makes me feel to eat you? I could do it again and again ... " She gave a pause, and allowed Ankhrea to see her cruel smile growing broader. "So I will."'

This time, she gave him no time to recover, no time to brace himself for the gruesome death to come. She snapped at him and wrapped her fangs around his entire head. Wedging him in her maw, nose pointed towards her throat, she moved as if to swallow him. Gathering him up in a tight hug kept him in place no matter how hard he tried to squirm. Eventually the strength of what had started as a tender embrace started to break him again. He heard the popping of his joints preceding the more concerning snapping, Then there was the pain. She crushed him to her chest, trapping him between her tits, squeezing all the air and life alike out of his body. That might have been another slow, suffocating death for him, but she had other plans.

Those teeth came down with a crocodile-like SNAP, easily crunching through his neck in a single bite. He expected everything to go dark again when her fangs met with a click where his throat used to be, but he should have known by then - he died when she allowed him to. Decapitated in a single bite, he slumped down, headless, bleeding all over her bust. He could still feel his own severed head sliding over her tongue, gushing from the ragged wound she'd inflicted upon him. Dropping his body like it was useless to her, she sucked on his still-moving features for a time, letting the silent scream leave his bloodied mouth. She could have kept him like that forever, he realized. Maybe she would.

Instead, she subjected him to another crushing swallow. It came after a sudden snap of her head to shake him down into her gullet. The pressure came from all sides, smothering him, smashing him, shattering his skull to dust before she even finished gulping it down. He felt himself pop like a grape, felt the juices running down her throat, and only when he had fully grasped the horror of the situation did she let the darkness overtake him again. This one felt deeper. It overtook him and held him there, perceiving nothing, thinking little. For the briefest moment, he felt a wave of relief to imagine he was finally free from her, that his torment had come to a close.

Then he opened his eyes. The prison cell his bedroom had become had reverted back to its more spacious, familiar size. The darkness had receded. There was a warm light coming in the window, where the curtains were drawn. A light breeze trickled in to wash across his face, making him aware of the dried tears in his fur. A further look around the room, scanning from corner to corner revealed no sign of anyone else there. An empty chair sat at the foot of his bed. The scene was set to make him think it was all over, but he wasn't about to fall for it.

"Where ... where are you now? I know you're there. I know you're waiting for your moment ..." He was shouting through clenched teeth, distorting his words. His body was barely obeying him. What was supposed to be a defiant cry was more of a quivering mewl of fear. His voice cracked and he just begged with her. "Just end, please, just ..."

He was violently shaking on the bed, weeping to himself, hugging his arms around his chest as if that was going to offer him any protection from the eldritch horror lurking in the shadows of that bright, cheery morning. It must have been an illusion. It was all too perfect. He still remembered everything she'd done to him, even if it was fading, feeling like little more than a particularly bad dream. Yet he knew it wasn't over when he knew he wasn't alone. There were steps approaching down the hall.

The heavy footfalls went along with a faint rattling sound. A short knock on his bedroom door made him flinch away, whimpering like a frightened animal. Nothing happened for a time. The anticipation throbbed through him, pushing his heart to full speed, pumping, pounding, aching. He felt as if he could simply die on the spot, suffering that awful anticipation. Then the doorknob began to turn. He heard the slick sound of slime on metal. Then there came her song. A soft one, a gentle tune, but it haunted him to his very soul nonetheless.

It was a most casual reveal of the living nightmare. There she stood, just as before, slick and shining in the morning light. She looked as if she'd robbed all the colour out of the world around her, distorting the air, glowing within. Though seemingly still naked, she wore a large, form-fitting apron over her matronly figure that kept her relatively modest, at least from the front. A tentacle receded from the doorknob and back into her body. She'd needed it to open the door given her arms were occupied by a large breakfast tray, emitting one of his favourite smells.

Nonetheless, he screamed and recoiled from her until he fell right over the edge of the bed. Her song ceased when she saw his reaction. Though her smile never left her face, it seemed to dull somehow, growing more dimmer, along with the look in her eyes. She hesitated for just a moment, then set down that try on a bedside table so she could take a seat on the edge of his bed, making it sag under her weight. That was where she waited while he hid from her on the floor. Her voice was soft, maybe even sad.

"Oh, oh honey. I'm sorry. Please, come back to me. This isn't a trick. You're awake now. I promise."

He listened to her, fighting back the sob in his throat. Something flooded back to him. The memory grew in clarity the longer he'd pondered it. He'd known her well before all she'd done to him. He'd know her sweet, soft side, and he'd known the hunger inside of her she spoke of. His fear was her feast, and he'd agreed to feed her before that long night began. She'd never coerced him, she'd never pushed him to open up his sleeping mind to her. He'd been the one who'd encouraged her to go as far as she could.

It was going to take some time. He sucked in a breath, feeling it quivering in his throat. The pain was gone, but the memories remained. Fading in the way a vivid dream grew less so in each waking moment, until he felt as if he couldn't fully recall all the horrific details. A slow lift of his head to peer over the edge of his bed at her revealed she was still the same creature as ever - though he hardly saw her the same way anymore. Though visibly frightful, she wore it all with such a gentle aura. When she reached her hand out for his, he looked at it for a while, then eventually he took it.

"There you go. You're going to be okay, Annie. I went a little hard on you. But I will be sure to make sure you recover."

He still flinched at first to feel her cool, slimy touch on his own hand, but he allowed himself to be gently helped back onto the bed. There he remained, keeping his distance from her, never looking at her for too long. His lip was still quivering, but every time she spoke, he felt a little better.

"I made you your favourite. It's okay if you're not hungry, though."

That evoked a curious glance over at the tray. There sat a delicious-looking cheesy sandwich, grilled just the way he liked it. It looked perfect, but that wasn't the only reason he was slowly starting to smile. He wondered if she was making the joke on purpose. That was what helped him look at her for longer than he'd managed in a while, offering him a much calmer expression. She smiled back, as ever.

"I'm sorry it has to be like this. It is my nature. But none of it was real. I never meant any of it."

"I know," he finally said, a little breathlessly. Then he gave a soft chuckle. "Now I remember how enthusiastic I was when I told you to just fuck me right up. I'm glad you didn't hold back, but ... wow. I hope it was good for you."

"I feel wonderful and satisfied, and it's all thanks to you." Her eyes brightened once more when she saw him laugh. "Would you like to cuddle?"

He looked her up and down, and for a moment he still hesitated, simply knowing all the surprises she could have pulled on him when pressed close. Yet when he nodded and let himself fall into her sleek, slimy embrace, getting his fur streaked and matted with that clinging layer of nightmare goo, he knew he'd made the right choice. With his head laid alongside hers, and her gentle fingers stroking and kneading up and down his back, he could finally sigh. It was going to take him some time, but he knew he could forget all about her darker side when he was pressed close to her huge, soft body, listening to her soothing, otherworldly song. He didn't understand a single word she sang to him, but he knew it meant she was going to take care of him, for as long as he needed.