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Rekkie Snail - Danae's Dark Delight

By RixWrites

As Danae crept into the rekkie snail's nest, she felt the familiar thrill of excitement that accompanied the first sight of one of the creature's two breeding spires. She could still remember the first day that she'd stumbled on the monstrous snail's lair while exploring a network of caves on the southern peninsula, far beyond the accepted 'safe' distance from the colony's walls. At that time, the sight of the two gray-green spires of hardened slime had horrified her when she'd realized that each held within them a helpless animal, so unrecognizable at first that when she'd seen a fat, wriggling grub drop with a wet splat from a hole that dripped with a strange black ichor, she had not known what she was looking at.

A closer inspection had revealed that the hole was actually stretched and gaping vulva. A strange moaning had been coming from the top of the spire, and with the recognition of the unknown creature's genitals, Danae had recognized other parts. Six thick nubs of flesh that seeped the same black ichor were only inches above the vulva, and the opening near the top of the spire was a mouth propped open by the hardened slime. As the moaning grew strident and loud, another hole had stretched open and the fist-sized grub had pressed outward.

If the adventurous squirrel hadn't been wearing a filter mask to ward off the fungal spores that were so common on the peninsula, she might have found herself in the same position as the nameless animal. There was a haze in the air that had suddenly thickened, and the filter had sent a warning to her wrist computer that it detected high levels of some sort of psychoactive compound and aphrodisiacs. As it was, she'd been so completely and utterly focused on what she'd seen that she only barely escaped the reaching tendrils of the snail-like creature that had lain hidden against the far wall of the chamber. Instinctive fear had made her run then, terrified of what she'd found, and of the fact that had she not run, she would have suffered much the same fate as the animals encased in that slime.

It would be insane to go back to the place without preparing or the intent to attack the snail and stop it from capturing anyone. And yet here she was, returning to the place where she'd found the snail, with even less protection than she'd had then. She'd deactivated her wrist computer entirely and dropped it and what supplies she had down a chasm so deep she'd not heard when they hit the bottom. All she had with her was the filter mask, on the off chance that some moment of sanity came to her before she did what she'd come there to do.

She could remember the colony's exobiologist about the thing, and the helpful zorse had pointed her toward one of her files. Danae had expected to be horrified by what she'd read, but hearing the description of what it did, to males and females both, had awakened something in her she hadn't known was there. Sleepless nights weren't filled with a fear of nightmares, they were a haze of rumpled sheets and sticky fingers and low panting cries as she came. All of it had led her back to confront the reality of her now-obsessive fantasy. To a place from which she'd never return.

The chamber was larger than she remembered, roughly thirty metres across, lit by faintly glowing mushrooms. By the far wall from the entrance, she could see the snail's previous victims, encased in their spires. The sight of them made her legs feel weak, and she felt herself growing damp and slick from the sight. She was covered in luxurious pure white fur right now, but none of that would be visible when she became that next breeding spire.

Very few of the strange molluscs ever became what resided in the chamber, with most of them falling prey to other dangerous things within the expansive network of caves and chambers. But when they grew this large, they would actually craft their own shell, and then lay in wait, ready to propagate their species. Knowing what to look for, Danae saw the movement at the back of the chamber as it released a spray of mist into the air, having sensed that she was there.

Running a pale pink tongue over her even paler lips, Danae reached down to press her fingers between her labia. "No going back," she whispered to herself. The truth was that disposing of her gear and wrist computer had been the moment she'd condemned herself. The chance of her finding her way out of the caves without guidance or climbing gear was so small that she had but one choice. To die of starvation or worse within the caves, or follow through with her obsession and satisfy a need that would mean she would likely go insane, turned into the snail's breeder over a process that took years just for one clutch. No, it was no choice at all. She knew it, and there was no point in denying it.

Legs shaking, Danae walked toward the spires, aware that the snail had sensed her arousal. It would wait until it thought her distracted and stupefied by the pheromone and drug-laden mist that it had released into the air. Barefoot, she took one slow step toward a bare spot in the floor where the mist was hazy enough that the filter mask's warning lights began to blink, indicating that she was in danger of overloading it. Falling to her knees on the stone floor of the chamber, she lifted one hand to undo the mask and then the other down to her mound, drawing a finger between her labia and drawing in a deep breath of the mist, and then another. And another.

It took less than thirty seconds for it to hit her, a powerful, relentless arousal that surpassed any heat she'd ever experienced. If she hadn't already been on her knees, legs spread as they are, she would have been unable to stand. A feeling of gentle calm came over her, also induced by the mist, and she knew it would all be okay. This was what she'd wanted, what she was masturbating to, her excitement dripping onto the floor as she dipped a finger into herself, then two more.

The snail moved behind her, Danae could hear it. It was a soft slurping sound accompanied by a wet squish. She wanted to look back, but all the squirrel could think of was driving her fingers deeper into herself, rubbing and stroking the deep bundle of nerves that made everything feel so much better. There was fear, too, fear of what becoming this thing's breeder truly meant, but it was something she would embrace. The endless straining, the helpless encasement, the engorged and corrupted breasts, thousands of little eggs waiting for their turn to mature, packed into her. Pulsing and moving within her.

In her mind's eye, Danae could see the snail moving, its bright pink underside revealed, the multiple tentacles reaching out for her, ready to strike and guide her into position. If she hadn't known to listen for it, if she hadn't been anticipating it, she wouldn't have even noticed the sounds of the snail's approach. She curled her fingers and firmly rubbed at that deep inner spot and cried out as her inner walls clenched and pulsed, her pleasure gushing and spattering onto the floor beneath her. She threw her arms out and back, feeling the bulk of the snail close enough to touch.

The first thing that the snail took hold of was her huge, luxurious white tail, a half dozen tentacles wrapping around it and smearing it with pink slime, matting the fur. The next were her arms and torso, and even her neck, each and every one of them coated in the same slick substance that left streaks of pink in matted wet fur. She felt herself pulled back against the underside of the snail, her tail pressed against her back, the tip resting on top of her head. Her arms were pulled against her sides, and more of the tentacles wrapped around her legs.

Danae knew she was good and truly caught, that she would find herself in one of the pillars, a new breeder for this monster, and yet she still would not rather be anywhere else but there. As she felt the tentacles guiding her to a wide-legged kneel, her legs spread, she let out a low moan. It was moving so fast. She'd known that it would work quickly to force her into position and bind her there, but all the same, she had not expected how quickly she was manoeuvred into position, with her back slightly arched, her arms pinned behind her, kneeling with legs spread so there was at least a foot of space between her aching pussy and the rocky floor.

Within a minute she was completely covered head-to-toe in slick pink slime, the snail's tentacles holding her in place. Then, two new ones began guiding her head backward, so that she was facing the mouth of the monstrous creature. Danae's inner walls clenched. This was happening, it was really happening. Before the day was through, she would be just like the other animals trapped in those pillars, nothing but a living incubator trapped in an endless cycle of breedings that took years to complete.

There would be no rescue from this, no chance of being discovered. The squirrel would be just a faceless, helpless incubator. She'd often wondered what would make someone like her, with all the opportunities that a life in the relatively settled systems of the Yahaelan Empire could offer, desire something like this, but the simple fact was that she didn't have an answer. If it wasn't this, it would have been another. And so, when she saw the fleshy, slick mouth of the snail move closer to her face and begin to evert itself, she said in a low, desperate voice, "yes. Yes, please!" The fleshy pink tube that formed from the snail's mouth pressed between her lips, and she opened her mouth for it, knowing that the words would be the last she'd ever be able to speak.

Between her legs, she felt a number of thin tentacles beginning to prod and explore at her labia and anus, touching and tasting and feeling what sort of prey it had found. The snail knew this prey was large enough to be a new breeder for it. It was getting large enough to need another, or it might have simply stuck this prey to a wall for later consumption. It was familiar to the snail in some strange way, like the prey had come back multiple times. In its limited intellect, there was surprise that the prey did not struggle, indeed, as it explored the prey's holes, deciding which would take its brood, the prey was excited, enthusiastic.

Danae cried out around the tube that pressed into her mouth and swelled to fill it, locking her jaw open with its girth. Her tongue worked against it, and she almost gagged at the foul taste of the slime that coated it. Already it felt sticky and warm, and she knew that by the time it was done, it too would harden so that she couldn't close her mouth. She groaned when two of the thin tentacles pressed in between her labia and deeper even while two more prodded at her anus.

Two new tentacles began to slide across her chest, brushing over stiff nipples and slithering around the small swells of her breasts. In the haze of arousal and chemically induced bliss that would have kept the squirrel subdued even if she weren't doing this of her own will, she knew that the next part would likely hurt a great deal, but it didn't really matter.

In the dimness of the chamber, Danae had no concept of time, and with her mind addled as it was, she was unaware of just how slow the snail was now moving, how it had been nearly an hour since she'd been secured. The tips of the tentacles found her nipples just as the two at her anus pushed into that tight ring of muscle and the other two reached her cervix.

For what felt like both a single moment and an eternity, the snail seemed to go still, as if debating what it would do, and then everything happened all at once. The tube in Danae's mouth swelled and deposited a thick, chunky mass of matter into her mouth, more than she would be able to hold in it, forcing her to swallow before even tasting the foulness of it. It was a honey-thick substance that seemed like a warm lump that took forever to reach her stomach, and even as the heavy mass settled there, another was swelling the mouth-tube.

At the same time, the tentacles at her nipples opened up and clamped down on the stiff nubs of flesh, and she felt a fiery pain as hair-thin tendrils began to invade her milk ducts. Danae whimpered and then gurgled, but she was helpless, her body jerking and wriggling despite itself. She knew what it was doing, what it would start to do to her body. It would only have to do this to her breasts once. This particular agony would be brief compared to what else was going to happen.

She gurgled more when she felt two more incredibly thin tentacles invading her urethra. They would go much further into her than her bladder, corrupting and infesting her kidneys to produce the nutrients the brood would need. It would take literal weeks, she knew, before her 'mate' was done with her. But in the state she'd be in, that sort of time would have no meaning for her. A dim part of her consciousness knew it had already been hours, and marvelled at how it didn't feel like it had.

Throbbing pain spread through her breasts and upper back, and as her body began to digest the mass in her stomach, her arousal grew ten, then a hundred fold. It was all she could think about, all she could perceive, the need to be filled and bred. Her sex was literally dripping wet to the point that she could hear the soft spatter of it on the floor. She didn't care that the throbbing pain was growing worse, that it had reached an intensity that would have her screaming if she could. All she wanted was to be filled.

Eventually, the snail obliged, and she felt two new protrusions, these ones incredibly thick, press against her ass and her vagina, the blunt tips forcing her open. Her stomach felt swollen and hot already, like she had overeaten. But she exulted in the stretching of her passages, that she'd soon be host for the multitudinous brood of the rekkie snail. The thick extrusions pushed deeper and deeper into her, and a new ache bloomed in her as she felt it at her innermost gateway. Slow in its progress, but implacable all the same, it eventually forced its way into her womb.

Heat and itching had filled Danae's breasts, making the squirrel wonder if they were already larger than they had been. She'd always been envious of the heavy, large ones that some women had, but hers had never been bigger than a modest 'B'. They would grow large in due time, repurposed to make what the rekkie snail's brood would need.

All the while, the other tentacles holding her still continued to leak that slime, smearing it all over her fur and matting it, leaving her covered in a thick layer of it. It matted her fur, hung off of it, yet it hadn't yet hardened. The question of why crept into her brain, but she had other things to think of when she felt pressure deep within her bowel as the thick tentacle sought deeper places to lay. She could feel the two accompanying tentacles for each wriggling and exploring. And then, all at once, everything seemed to pause. She was trapped in the moment as the snail was preparing itself for the next step in its breeding process. She felt impossibly stretched, and the itching in her breasts was growing even more intense. Inwardly she screamed, wanting this thing to get on with it, to finish making her into one of the breeding spires.

It was hours of waiting, hours that Danae wasn't even truly conscious of, the chemical haze still altering her perception of time. Eventually, though, she felt the two thick tentacles within her swell even wider, stretching her painfully wide. A low flare of pain came in her belly as they were delivered to her womb, the first bundle of eggs. There was squirming and twitching inside her as the thin tentacles guided each egg as far as it could, carefully packing each egg in against the next. The one in her bowel took longer, but soon she could feel an unsettling squirming on her right side and she knew they were doing the same there.

It was so slow now, though, she realized. To her surprise, she was somehow more keenly aware than she had been only minutes (hours?) before. Then, she understood. The chemical haze wasn't needed anymore, there was no reason for it. She was helpless to the monster, and it would take as long as it needed now. What hadn't dissipated, though, was the fiery and desperate heat that demanded to be bred, demanded to be sated, but the agonizing slowness of the snail's breeding couldn't begin to satisfy. The full weight of what she'd done settled into her as her vagina was stretched a second time by a new batch of eggs. As long as she was fed that foul-tasting goop, she would grow more and more aroused, and she wouldn't be able to do anything about it. And she'd never be able to escape or hope for rescue.

The squirrel drifted in and out of consciousness as one bundle after another was pressed into her, each egg on its own smaller than a pea placed in a careful massive clump. Her chest felt like it was on fire now, aching and itching all the while, and she could feel the weight of the growing mass of eggs in her. She would fade from awareness and be woken by a new glob of foul, chunky slime forced into her mouth, swallowing reflexively. Each one would stoke the flames of unnatural arousal. The ache in her upper back was constant now as the snail was re-purposing what it could to make her produce her brood's required nutrients.

Despite the lack of the chemical haze, time had no meaning for her, and she had no idea how long it had been when the tentacle in her vagina pulled out of her womb. She could feel it, a huge solid mass of eggs that had packed her near to bursting. How many were there, she wondered. Hundreds at least. She'd figured out the math once, but the number wouldn't come to her. She couldn't really think clearly at all anymore, the unnatural heat jumbling her thoughts.

The snail stopped laying in her, leaving her sex gaping wide with the volume of eggs, only the last two inches left unfilled. She sobbed inwardly, knowing it wasn't nearly over. The tentacle inside her bowel wasn't even a third of the way done there, with much more space to fill than her womb and vagina, and now there wasn't even the pleasure of something stimulating her inside.

Outside the chamber, the search for Danae had gone on for weeks by the time the second tentacle tugged out of her. By then, she was already half-mad with desire, but despite it all, she felt a deep satisfaction. This was her life now. A breeder for a monster that saw her as nothing more than a place to lay eggs. The snail wasn't even capable of understanding what effect it was having on her mind. She could feel the twin masses inside her, an ache that would only grow worse as they matured.

Something changed, then, something she couldn't see, with her face in that strange forced kiss with the snail. The nature of the slime was changing, though the heavy orbs of her breasts were left untouched. It was thicker now, two thick layers of pink slime within under a hardening gray shell of a different substance, and Danae knew it was almost finished.

When the mouth-tube pulled out, her tongue was completely immobile, her mouth filled with a sheath of flexible resin. She felt her first real moment of fear as two tentacles sprayed over her eyes and in her ears. She had the presence of mind to close her eyes before it struck, and she shuddered as hardening slime took away her vision forever. Thick plugs had filled her ears, cutting off her hearing as well, and as she felt the tentacles on her breasts pull away and the one in her urethra finally withdraw, the mass of the rekkie snail detached.

All that Danae knew then was the frustrated arousal, the huge mass of eggs trapped within her making her entire body ache. She was aware of a constant trickle from her sex that spattered onto the floor beneath her and the ache of her leaking breasts. In her mind's eye, she saw herself as she must be now, a formless spire of gray, the blackish ooze trickling from her chest and sex leaving a pool in the floor. Utterly unrecognizable as Danae.

That mental picture brought to her something she'd been wanting more than anything for the weeks of the breeding process. Mind-numbing, ecstatic bliss that suffused her entire body from head to toe, pulsing outward from her sex, a climax that seemed to encompass her entire body. The gurgling howl that erupted from her was desperate, exultant as she came, the pleasure somehow amplified. And it went on and on for minutes, maybe hours. And then she was left in darkness, her body still changing inside, making her a better vessel for the brood.

Two months had passed, and active searches for Danae had been called off.

The incubator could not even remember her name or how long it had been since becoming what she was. Becoming what she should have always been. Sometimes, it would feel deep despair and regret. Other times she would feel nothing. Even other times she would feel pure joy. Sometimes her name came to her for a fleeting moment, but all that her world was was the sense of fullness and a deep throbbing ache as the eggs inside her doubled in size. And need. Desperate unending need. Once or twice one of the grub-like young from the other incubators would blindly find its way to the puddle of nutritious slime that dripped from her sex and her aching breasts. The feeling of one of them brushing against her labia was almost as painful as it was pleasurable, making her flex and twitch helplessly within her prison of hardened slime. It was never enough stimulation for her, making her howl desperately, noiseless begging for the wriggling things to return. The only other thing that ever marked a change was the tube that pushed into her mouth and fed her until she felt sick to bursting.

The next change to the incubator's life came when, in the world she had left behind, the missing person's file for a white-furred squirrel named Danae Ariden was listed as inactive after six months of fruitless searching. The eggs within her bloated abdomen began to squirm and writhe, the young larval molluscs within them stretching and pushing at their flexible shells. If the constant sensation of fullness and unending torturous arousal hadn't been enough, the mass that filled her now moved endlessly. For a moment, the incubator exulted, for it stimulated her from within. Yet, like the grubs that came to feed on the puddle beneath her, it was not enough.

Consciousness faded, and perception of any sense of time was completely gone in a singular existence of relentless arousal and aching strain. Her muscles tensed and flexed reactively any time something brushed her oversensitive labia, but even that blended into other sensations. When, finally, something new came to her, it was a shocking change. It was as if her mind was suddenly alight with awareness, and Danae remembered everything. She howled and twitched helplessly, not comprehending what the change actually was. Her sex was stretching even wider than it had been, and her howls grew more strident. Beneath her, the head of one of the larval snails was pushing out of her, and as that head wriggled free from black-streaked labia she felt her desperate need cease for one blessed moment of utter and complete clarity.

Danae finally understood. It was happening. The thing she had wanted so much was finally coming to pass. Maybe it was something she'd always been meant for, even before the fateful day she'd found the snail. The first of her brood was being born. Any observer would see what she had that day. A formless, helpless creature encased in a pillar of slime, her vagina stretched obscenely as one of her brood slipped from her and splattered into the black puddle beneath her sex. In that moment of understanding, she came like she had when the snail had detached from her. And as the bliss of that climax faded, she ceased to be anything but a living incubator aware of nothing but the desire to feel that pleasure again. That pleasure came again quite quickly (or was it an eternity?) as another one pressed out of her rear.

If she had been capable of thought anymore, she'd know that each egg, the closest to the edge of the mass of eggs within each hole, would mature individually, taking hours between each birth. But there was no thought. Only need and desire and strain and twitching and feeding. And exultant joy that it could not understand.

It was years later that someone new found the rekkie snail's hidden chamber. As the explorer examined the pillar of hardened slime that encased a creature that had once been a squirrel named Danae, they realized with horror that unlike the two others there, discarded on the floor was a filter mask that no unthinking animal would ever wear.

And the observer had to wonder... what had happened to make the creature within take off the mask and give themselves over to this. And they had to wonder as well...

What would it feel like if they did the same?