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keis-slut · 1 year

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Sex In The Pizzaplex

fnaf

chapter iii. - Monty ⚠︎

CW: CHOKING, PRAISE, DIRTY TALK, TUMMY BULGE, FACE FUCKING, IMPLIED DEGRADATION, PRED/PREY MENTION, OVERSTIMULATION

Reader POV

My shift tonight was a little different.

Instead of cleaning up slobber and probably shit off the Daycare floor, and picking up random toys or baby pacifiers people had left behind,

or being fucked by the Daycare attendant...

I was assigned to clean Monty's room, tune his bass, and check if he had any damages on his shell.

I was a bit mortified to enter his room, even after hearing they all liked me anyway, I was still afraid Monty would be a bit

unpredictable.

But, I still went with it, maybe i'd get lucky here too. I could check another one off the bucket list.

As I approched his greenroom down Rockstar Row, I expected him to be angrily destroying everything inside, but it was silent.

Maybe he wasn't in there.

I furrow my eyebrows, wondering where he could be, but I shrug and continue anyway.

I scan my badge, and the door opens for me, revealing a dark, and trashed greenroom.

"oh, my..." I mumble, the door sliding shut behind me.

There was only one light in this room, still holding on by a thread, so it wasn't pitch black, but still not easy to see. It flickered as I walked further into the room, stepping on what seemed to be ripped up cardboard and soda cups.

As I carefully step forward trying not to trip on these things, I suddenly heard a noise next to me, before I was slammed into something behind me. My breath hitched as I hit the wall, and I look up to be face-to-face with the Gator as he bent down to get to my level.

"well, well, well...look who decided to visit..." He purrs his light southern accent, bringing a clawed finger to scratch at my chin.

"Hey, Monty" I greet casually with no shame, as I calm down from the unexpected scare.

"you know, I'm a little angry about the show today...talk about great timing" He pouts sarcastically, and my mind decides to be bold, knowing he was referring to his infamous angry tantrums we all heard daily.

"but who says you have to take your anger out like that? it's just more of a mess I have to clean..." I respond, slightly suggestive.

He narrows his eyes at me curiously.

"and what is it you are referring to?" He hissed, his face inching closer to mine.

"you're smart, aren't you? put the pieces together, big boy" I smile up at him, placing my hand onto his cold chest plate as he towered over me.

"don't taunt me" He pushes himself closer, and this gesture alone made between my legs pulse.

"i'm taunting you?" I sarcastically question, bending down and stepping out from under him.

He huffs and turns around, a low growl admitting from his advanced voice box.

"i'd watch your tone..." He warned, and I backed up into his torn red couch, sitting on it comfortably. I hum, placing my hands on my thighs.

"make me" I provoke purposely, and he stomps over to me, clasping his clawed hand around my jaw, from palm to fingertips making its way from my chin to the back of my head, he forced me to look up at him.

"you're one filthy girl, aren't you?" He snapped, as I purred into his large robotic hand.

"so you do understand" I laugh, bringing a hand to stroke his pelvic plate.

"I wanna know what you're hiding under here" I purr seductively, and his hand drags down as he wraps his metal fingers around my neck, squeezing it just enough to make my eyes roll and harder to breathe.

"Monty..." I moan breathlessly, his red eyes locked on me from behind the lenses of his star-shaped glasses.

He leans closer to my face, eyeing me as I bring a hand on top of his robotic one placed around my neck.

"who else have you done this with?" He growled, releasing my neck from his choking grip as I whine disappointingly.

"no one, you'd be the first" I lied, but he bought it as he perked up and his tail snapped behind him.

He leaned down a bit more, his big hand now placed on one of my thighs.

"I can smell you from here, slut" He snarls, trapping me on his couch as he then placed his hands on either sides of me.

"so needy" He teases, the end of his cold snout touching my nose, he was so close.

"just for you..." I admit, writhing beneath him and bringing my hand to gently caress between my legs as they're slightly spread.

"how about you take those off for me, baby..." He gestures a clawed finger to my pants, and I smirk, bringing my hands above my head and hooking them over the couch behind me.

"how about you take them off for me"

I was purposely giving him an attitude, hoping this would spark more of the anger inside him, annoying him to the point where this angry-sex had to be a thing.

And it seemed to be working as he snarled lowly, quickly bringing a robotic hand between my legs and completely ripping the fabric covering me to shreds with his claws. Shivering as the cold air touched my exposed skin, he eyed me like a predator, and my pussy throbbed knowingly being his prey.

"so wet already, you'd get fucked by anything, wouldn't you, slut?" He teased, reminding me of the fact he was an animatronic.

But shamelessly, yes, the thought of just being utterly destroyed by these heavily advanced AI robots really appealed to me.

And Monty was about to be the first.

I brought my hand between my legs and traced a finger along my soaked pussy, gently hovering over my clit as my hips jerked forwards.

"Monty..." I moan, and he lets out the darkest growl ever in response, so obviously leaking with desire as he crawled over me.

"yes, baby?"

"use me, please" I beg, barely pushing a finger inside me as his greenroom starts to grow hot and heavy.

I heard a low click from Monty's shell, and looking down slightly I noticed his pelvic plate open, shifting upwards as a large, green colored phallus-shape emerged from inside, slightly dripping with something green from his purplish tip.

"oh, use you?..." He snaps, suddenly grabbing my waist and lifting me off the couch, my back still pressing against the cushion behind me. I whine as he brought his leg up on the couch to hold himself up, and had no problem picking up my body like a weightless doll and bringing me down onto his cock.

"fuck, Monty!-"

I scream as his tip kisses my cervix, I could feel it, my walls clenching around him as it burned for a few seconds. He was so big and stretched me so quick, it took me a little to adjust.

"you asked for it, baby, and look at you"

He squeezes my waist tighter, and I bring my arms to hold myself up against the couch.

"taking me so well, like a good girl"

He held the bottom half of my body up as he slammed into me, only slightly able to see how his tip rubbed me so deep as it bulged on my lower tummy.

I throw my head back with a mewl as my pussy hugged him in all the right places. Suddenly, he had shifted on his leg, leaving me to shift on him too. A loud whimper emits from my throat as that shift had him teasing my g-spot, my soft walls now clenching harder around him.

"you feel so much tighter now, baby, you wanna finish on my cock?" He asks, knowing all too well of the pure bliss I was in, unable to make out a proper response.

I felt something release from my core as my vision went hazy, my head lolling to the side as I assume I had finished.

But he didn't pull out.

My mouth hung open as my eyes squeezed shut, and I felt his hands remove themselves from my waist and travel down my legs. He pulled them so my heels were brushing his shoulders, his hands placed on my thighs as he crawled onto the couch, pushing himself deeper inside me, my legs shaking.

"you said use you..." He growled, harshly pulling himself out before plowing in again.

"so i'll use you 'til i'm done" He adds, slamming into my overstimulated cunt as I cry.

I didn't want him to stop, I was extremely overstimulated but it felt so good as he probably forgot I was even a real person for a bit. Grunting, growling, scratching, using me angrily. He fucked so recklessly, his sunglasses had fallen onto my chest, but it didn't stop him.

He brought a clawed hand to my shirt, using a nail to rip the buttons off, it flying open to reveal my bra, breasts spilling out from his thrusts.

He took his nail again and brought it between my boobs, hooking it onto my bra and pulling it. And with a snap, that was off as well, my breasts bouncing free.

I needed new work clothes now...

His thrusts grew sloppy eventually as I laid almost lifeless, letting him throw me around however he pleased because, from the second orgasm I had built up, it pleased me too.

He pushed himself into me deeply as he sat there for a second, letting my pussy carefully wrap around him before he sharply pulled out, my squirting climax getting all over his chestplate.

I whine as I try to catch my breath, relaxing as he stood up.

But he abruptly grabbed my arm, and my eyes snap open widely as he pulls me to sit up.

"you think i'm done with you?" He snarles with a low chuckle. I sat on my knees as he approached me, his cock perfectly at eye level as I was still on the couch to be tall enough.

"let's see how well your throat can take me now" He snarls, gripping at my hair harshly as I moan. He brings his other hand down to my jaw, using his thumb to pry my mouth open.

"open your pretty mouth for me, baby" He pleads.

He went from being completely ruthless, to sweet in a matter of seconds, but what's so hot about it is that "sweet" was an act to pity me. To look down on me, to make me feel small. And It made between my legs just pulse for more.

I shifted so I was able to sit on my foot, the pressure just enough against my clit to get me off, rolling my hips subtly.

His hand that had pried my mouth open made it's way to my hair too, pulling at it as he brought his tip to my lips. I open my mouth for him and he immediately thrusts, his head choking me. My eyebrows knit as my eyes roll to the back of my head, a loud moan vibrating against his cock. He fucked my face in such an animalistic way, not stopping to let me breathe. I had drool seeping from the sides of my mouth as he pet the top of my head, and slipped himself to the back of my throat.

"I love how well you take me...doesn't matter how" He admits, a low growl rumbling from his voice box as he thrusts, holding it there for a second before a liquid spilled on the back of my tongue.

It wasn't warm, and not salty, but rather sweet and a bit bubbly.

He pulled out of my mouth, my lips making a pop as his release spilled from my lips slightly.

"you're so pretty with my mess all over you, baby" He praised, bringing a clawed thumb to my lips again and sticking it in my mouth. I looked up at his eyes, staring at him as I circled my tongue around his nail, still rutting myself against my foot, attempting to get off for the third time.

I sucked on his thumb as he loomed over me, watching me as I pathetically attempted to get off with a needy whine.

But his stare was only helping as I felt a release in my core, the adrenaline in my body now abandoning me.

He retracted his finger from my mouth, and closed his pelvic plate as I threw myself back onto the couch with a moan.

"come back anytime, baby"

#smut writing #wattpad #writers on tumblr #fnaf #fnaf sb #five nights at freddy's security breach #fnaf security breach #security breach #fnaf monty #montgomery gator #monty gator #monty fnaf #monty smut #fnaf smut

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lesbianoms · 8 months

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Consider this:

A seemingly classic office rom-com but in a world with vore dynamics. One coworker that a bunch of others are fighting over, except they’re not necessarily interested in dating her so much as they are eating her.

The new girl who gets the job is straight out of a heteronormative dreamland. She’s naive and shy, but a hard worker who’s ultimately looking for love. She’s lasted this long in her career and she feels like it might finally be time to find a partner, and what better place to look than a heavily populated office building? She’s finally ready for romance!

Oh, and she also happens to be prey.

She shows up the first day and the office is ripe with hungry tension. All the other people there– the secretaries and receptionists, the men by the water cooler, and the women dressed in business suits or long skirts– they’re all staring at her, licking their lips idly. It’s like she’s a fresh piece of meat to them.

And then her heart just begins beating furiously as she realizes that the office is completely made up of predators.

But the new girl quickly puts up a front and smiles, eager to make a good first impression on her first day at work. Besides… she’s worried that they can smell her fear.

I like to imagine that the office is mostly female driven, so throughout the day the new girl is surrounded by hungry women who eye her up and down, wanting nothing more than to fill their bellies with her. Some of them might try to lull her into a false sense of security… maybe they compliment her on her fashion sense, or tell her how nice her perfume smells, or maybe a few of them invite her over into another room for some “girl talk.”

And maybe, just maybe, the new girl reluctantly accepts. After all, she does miss the downtime she had during her old job, the casual chats with her coworkers about life and men and the intricacies of doing your makeup right and all that other boring filler stuff. She convinces herself that she wouldn’t be that appetizing to them anyways.

And as she falls prey to her naïveté once more, she also falls prey to the women. They all jump on her and attack like the hungry preds they are, biting and licking her, tasting her, until one gets a steady hold of her, drags her possessively away from the group, and greedily swallows her down.

The new girl kicks and struggles in the pred’s gut, begging her to be let out and feeling her preyish fear kick into overdrive. The other women stare at their coworker in annoyance and jealousy, and she just grins, flashing her teeth and rubbing her swollen gut victoriously. Everybody else rolls their eyes and leaves. Oh well, maybe they’ll get lucky when the next meal comes along…

After work, the pred goes home, cradling her gut and cooing to the girl in her belly, telling her what a filling meal she made and how she actually lasted longer than most of the prey that worked in the office before her. She belches loudly, yawns, and makes her way upstairs, eager to sleep off her sweet little treat.

As the pred falls asleep the prey feels herself getting sluggish, losing the battle to the stomach acids. Her entire career, her search for love, her lifespan– all cut short by the churning walls of some hungry lady’s gut. Everything goes numb and dark…

And then, the new girl discovers something incredible about herself, something she’d never had any way of knowing before.

She can reform.

She wakes up in her own bed, eyes wide and staring at the ceiling. Everything feels too bright. It wasn’t possible, it just wasn’t; she’d just been digested, she should have been dead. And yet somehow, somehow she was still laying there, breathing and thinking and feeling like she’d always done every morning of her life. She was still living. She’d survived.

A confident, wide grin spreads across her face.

She shows up at work the next day, shocking everyone, especially the girls who’d fought over her the day prior. The pred that ate her actually becomes a bit pale and flustered. None of them have ever experienced a meal coming back to haunt them.

Throughout the rest of the series, the new girl flaunts herself to her coworkers, teasing them and offering herself up on a silver platter, only to slip away in the morning and leave their bellies emptier than she’d entered them. She builds up a reputation for being a fulfilling catch, too, squirming and writhing and stirring up a myriad of wonderful feelings in the pred’s body. Some of them are even encapsulated by her as a person, rather than a meal. There are office bets started up, debating who’s stomach she enjoys being in the most. The female pred from before finds herself fantasizing about being asked on a dinner date by the prey.

She actually grows to become a somewhat respected member of the company, spending her days heading boardroom meetings and her nights gurgling away in the depths of some lucky colleague’s belly.

Ultimately, she ends up leaving the office a better place than she found it. Her preyish nature makes a lot of the preds more opened-minded, and maybe they start hiring other prey around the office without any ulterior motives. Maybe some of them start holding memorial services for the prey coworkers that they’d eaten in the past. Collaboration reaches an all time high as preds realize they don’t need to be competitive anymore.

Sure, the work environment can be a little tense at times. The “new girl” is still prey, after all, surrounded by an office of hungry preds. That will never change. But this time around, she wouldn’t have it any other way.

#vore writing #soft vore #reformation #safe vore #tw digestion #f/f vore #digestion #any genders can work but i like my noms with a yuri twist #vore story #vore talk #same size vore #unwilling prey #willing prey #fandom I can’t tag #character i can’t tag #v.ore #v0re #why did i get emotional at the end? lol #minors dni

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bighungrywolf · 5 months

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During the vacations, many people take the opportunity to relax by the pool. However, sometimes relaxing too much can have terrible consequences. Without going any further, this predator takes advantage of the fact that its prey has low defenses during the vacations to hide underwater while approaching its prey. His prey, being so in his own world he doesn't realize that he has someone stalking him, is not able to react in time when the pred pounces on him, dragging him and submerging him in the pool, to soon be submerged in the stomach of his predator. At least looking at it from the bright side, the prey won't have to worry about having to go back to work, so you could say this is a way to extend his vacation indefinitely.

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dottcre · 1 year

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self indulgent fic.. enjoy.. please never speak to me about dom dottore again

contains : dom!dottore, sub!reader, afab!virgin!reader, no gendered petnames used, corruption kink, mean!dottore, degradation, very little prep and no aftercare, tiny bit of pred/prey kink, unprotected sex

“i’ll be gentle.”

those were the words that got you in this vulnerable position, completely naked with your legs open for dottore as he caressed your inner thighs. you knew he was probably lying about it, yet you gave in to the lust tugging at your heartstrings. his eyes shifted as he glanced at you almost dangerously, hand sliding up to gently push your bucking hips back onto the bed.

cold fingers wandered some more, and he dragged his index finger along your warm, virgin cunt. your heart rate picked up and your cheeks flushed with embarrassment as he then held the finger up, showing off the way your juices glimmered on the tip of it. “you’re so wet already,” he rasped, deep voice sending chills down your back and making your pussy throb with need. he grinned, large and toothy as he tapped your lips with his finger. you opened up hesitantly, and he pushed two fingers into your mouth, watching contently as you almost gagged. his other hand toyed with your clit, teasing and flicking it softly. he drank up every little noise you made more than gladly, and it showed. his gaze on you felt almost predatory, and you let yourself fall prey to the man.

“first time someone’s played with your little cunt, hmm?” he knew the answer, and you knew that he just wanted to hear it from your lips. “so sensitive and responsive.” his voice was dripping with sadistic desire, and you whined around his digits.

“yea,” you whined, then jolted, watching as he moved toward you, now kneeling right between your legs. “your fingers feel so good.” he cooed at you condescendingly as drool slipped out from the corners of your lips.

“such a messy little slut,” he tutted, pulling the fingers in your mouth to wipe at it, or more accurately, smudge it on your chin. “already looking fucked-out when i’ve just started playing with you.”

“dottore…” you whimpered, legs wrapping around his waist. “fuck me already… need… need your cock.”

“impatient brat,” he spat, moving away, and for a moment you were scared that he would leave you needy and wanting, but he just leaned back, taking his mask off before sitting up against the headboard. you stared at him, slightly confused. “if you want it so bad, do it yourself.”

once again, you knew that this was just his way of shaming you, of humiliating you to see your skin flush a darker colour as you hid with embarrassment, yet you eagerly moved toward him, undoing his belt to pull his cock out. it was thick, to say the least, and way more impressive than what you’ve seen in pornos, and you felt your chest tighten with want just by looking at it. red eyes watched you closely as you climbed on top of him hesitantly, taking a deep breath in as you sank down on his length.

you felt tears prick at your eyes at the stretch. he didn’t nearly prepare you enough, or even at all, and you got too carried away to remember it. it was hurting too much, and your legs were giving out on you. dottore hissed as he felt you clench and twitch around his cock.

“dottore,” you whimpered, sobbing. “h-hurts! hurt s’much.” you didn’t really expect the man to do much about it, but his hand came to rest on your back, stroking it in an attempt to half you as he shushed you as gently as he could muster.

“shh, i know my cock is too much for your sweet little cunt, but you’ll feel good soon.” you nodded, showing that you understood because you didn’t trust your voice at that moment.

in a minute, you started moving up and down his cock, with his hands guiding your hips, and the stinging sensation faded into pleasure. your legs were shaking as dottore started to thrust up into your warmth, the lewd sound of your hips slapping together filling the room.

you mewled when dottore’s thumb began circling your clit, applying just the right amount of pressure to make you shake and see stars. almost immediately after, you came, whining as you clamped down on his cock. he gasped in surprise, cock spurting out ropes of cum and filling you up.

he caught you in his arms when you ran out of strength, pulling you off his cock with almost a surprising amount of care. he glanced at your cunt, leaking with his cum, and pushed some of it back in. you gasped at the sensation of his fingers again, yet let out a soft noise of protest when he pulled them out.

“and so, how was that?” he asked, and you groaned, spent.

“still fucking stings.” you couldn’t help but frown, knowing that he didn’t miss out on the preparation out of carelessness.

“i treated you gently, like you wanted,” he tutted, already rolling out of bed before you could protest and say that he was an absolute liar.

you started to feel almost bitter, annoyed that you trusted him with something so important as your virginity, but shook it off. dottore’s behaviour wasn’t something you could just change, after all. you just pulled yourself up, trailing after him as he headed to the shower, legs still shaking and heart feeling uneasy.

#@ a thousand kisses. ares #dottore #dottore smut #dom dottore #genshin #genshin smut #genshin impact smut #genshin impact #dom genshin #dom genshin impact #tw corruption kink

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mmmleckerlecker · 9 months

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Snack Number Fourteen

Happy vore day 2023! Please enjoy this EXTREMELY self indulgent fic that’s been cooking in my brain for quite awhile now…

Summary: The predator had always prided himself on his self-control. And he really does like to make things last. Just another night with him and his (fourteenth) favorite snack.

Contents: m/m, cruel pred, willing pred, unwilling prey, non-fatal, pre-vore, partial digestion, post-vore (aka the main focus), regurgitation, I imagined a size-difference while writing but it’s never really specified

Wordcount: 5,301

* * * * * * * * * *

The predator came home that evening feeling exhausted. And absolutely starving.

He wished he could say that his work had ended once he’d left the office just a half hour ago, but he’d be lying. He knew very well that there was an extensive pile of paperwork just waiting for him on his desk at home. It really was going to be a long night.

Ah, well, no rest for the wicked and all that.

The predator did, fortunately, have at least one thing to look forward to that night, and he was very much looking forward to it. He could barely contain his excitement, nearly bouncing on his toes in a very un-predator-like fashion. But it had been so, so long. He could forgive himself this once for his lack of self-control.

And so the predator bounced his way upstairs, right to the locked doorway at the end of the hall. He pulled out a tiny silver key, slid it into the lock, and turned.

“Good evening, my little snack,” he said with a grin, flicking on the light of the now unlocked room. “You’re looking exceptionally… recovered tonight.”

The boy— fresh out of college, still so strong and vibrant— let out a groan.

“Please,” he begged as he squeezed himself into the farthest corner. “Not again. Please… just a little longer.”

The predator entered the room and smiled in a way which he considered warm and affectionate. Unfortunately, he must not have gotten it quite right because the closer he got, the more the boy only shrank and shivered away.

“Now, now,” the predator chided, crouching down in front of the boy. “It’s been weeks since last time. We’re more than overdue.” He reached out, ignoring the way his snack flinched away, and ran his fingers over the boy’s cheek. The flesh was riddled with burn scars but otherwise healthy. “See? You’ve already healed up.”

The boy didn’t answer. The predator tried smiling again, making sure to show all his teeth.

The boy had been living in this room for months now, which was a good deal longer than many of his predecessors. The predator had no inkling of the boy’s name, all he knew was that he was Number Fourteen. He didn’t really have any desire to learn the boy’s name either. To the predator, he was just another snack. The fourteenth snack, to be precise.

You see, the predator was a master of control, and whenever he found something he really liked, he liked to drag it out for as long as possible. When he was a boy, he once bought a lollipop that he enjoyed so much, he made it last for seven and one-quarter years. Every night like clockwork, he would take precisely one lick of the candy. No more, no less. Just enough to indulge in its sugary sweet flavor. And then he would carefully wrap it and put it away for the next day. He’d prided himself on his patience and pacing, even then.

Years later and the only thing that had changed were his tastes. Now his snacks were a bit more… complex.

“You’ll need to eat first, of course,” the predator continued to his snack. “And drink. We can’t have you getting de-hydrated now, can we?”

The boy was already shaking his head, but the predator didn’t pay him any mind. He knew what was best for his snack, what measures to take to make them last the longest. He’d gone through many trials and errors.

“Come now.”

The boy didn’t resist when the predator hoisted him to his feet. He’d given up fighting long ago. The predator led his snack down the hall, down the stairs, and into the dining room, where he bade him sit at the table. The boy obeyed, his scarred face looking utterly despondent.

“What do you say?” the predator asked as he opened one of the kitchen cabinets. “Beef stew for dinner? That is one of your favorites, isn’t it?”

This, of course, was a little inside joke between the two of them. Beef stew was the only thing the boy ever got for dinner. For some reason though, he didn’t seem to find this joke very funny. The predator let out a wistful sigh. Snack Number Thirteen would have laughed. Or at least offered one of the witheringly sarcastic remarks that he so loved. Even after all these months, the predator missed their heated banter.

The predator didn’t wait for an answer from his current snack before pulling one of the many cans of beef stew off the shelf. He poured it into a bowl, then very kindly heated it up in the microwave. He put the bowl and a cup of ice water on the table before the boy. The ice water was actually a special treat for tonight. Usually he only got room temperature water.

“Go on then,” the predator urged as he took the seat across from his snack. “Eat up!”

Ever so painfully slowly, the boy began to eat. The predator watched with keen interest. Every bite of food, every sip of water, every contraction of those beautiful throat muscles, just made him all the more hungry. He drummed his fingers impatiently on the table. Snack Number Fourteen shifted the spoon in his hand and cleared his throat.

“You don’t have to watch me eat,” he mumbled, eyes firmly locked on his half-empty bowl.

“Oh, but I very much do,” the predator told him, resting his chin in his hand. “I need to make sure you eat everything. And I need to know exactly when you’re done and ready. And besides that… I do enjoy watching my snacks feed themselves.”

The boy’s fingers squeezed at the handle of his spoon before he took one more deliberate bite.

Number Six had been a slow eater too. Even slower than Number Fourteen, surprisingly. She seemed to think she could put off the inevitable if she ate at the pace of a turtle in slow motion. The predator had always found that amusing. He had the patience of a saint, and a bowl of stew could only be stretched out for so long.

The predator smiled lazily at the memory. This seemed to unnerve his snack who happened to glance up at that moment. With a small intake of breath, the boy began scooping his stew with a bit more purpose than before.

In a few more minutes, the only thing he had left were a few last swallows of water. The predator watched, nearly quivering with anticipation. The last drops of water rolled so, so slowly past the boy’s lips. He swallowed. He set his glass down.

The predator lunged, unable to wait any longer. In the blink of an eye, he had the boy by his shirt and was yanking him across the table. Silverware, cup, and bowl were knocked carelessly to the side. The chair toppled backward as the boy kicked his feet, struggling fruitlessly as he was dragged across the table.

Snack Number Fourteen only managed a small cry of surprise before he was cut off by his head being shoved unceremoniously into the predator’s mouth.

The predator’s eyes fluttered shut and he let out a little moan of contentment. The first taste was always the best part, in his opinion. He took his first swallow, felt the way his throat stretched, and then had second thoughts on that opinion. Actually, he thought, it was the first swallow that was the best part. His fingers curled into the boy’s shirt, clinging to him and pulling him in further.

Ignoring the way his snack groped blinding at his face, the predator took another swallow. The boy’s shoulders stretched his throat even more and gave the added bonus on impeding his snack’s assault.

The predator considered the possibility of the second swallow being the best part.

He continued this reassessment after each greedy gulp. The third one began stretching his ribs apart in a sickeningly satisfying way. The fourth one saw him halfway through, right at the boy’s hips. It was at this point, Snack Number Fourteen’s head finally entered the predator’s stomach and the predator let out an involuntary shiver. He was sure now that the fourth swallow had to be the best part. Nothing could surpass this feeling.

But then he took his fifth swallow and he was forced to scoot his chair backwards, away from the table, to make room for his now rapidly expanding middle. His sixth swallow had his stomach stretching so much, he really didn’t think it could get any better than this, but then he was only at his snack’s knees! A seventh swallow and only the boy’s toes remained out in the open.

The predator touched a delicate hand to his throat so he could feel the last of his snack sliding down. He took his eighth swallow and closed his mouth as Snack Number Fourteen disappeared fully behind his lips. The last of the boy went smoothly down his throat, and the predator winced as his belly was stretched to maximum capacity. He even winced as it pressed painfully into the table he’d so politely just pushed himself away from.

Somewhat annoyed, he took another difficult scoot backwards, freeing himself from the confines of the table edge. Once a safe distance from the table, he allowed himself to relax in his chair. His eyes fell shut and his hands wandered quite greedily to the now healthy curve of his belly. A deep contentment spread through him as his fingers searched out the shape of his snack.

The boy, for his part, was shifting and stretching within, most likely trying to find the closest approximation to a comfortable position. Somehow the predator doubted there were many such positions in there, but really that was none of his concern. For his part, he was in heaven. And there was only one thing that could make it better.

With a dreamy sigh, he gave in and let his stomach come to life with the beginnings of digestion.

A wave of pleasure crashed over the predator, easing away the stress of his work day and making all that paperwork seem like a distant memory. If he could live in one moment forever, it would be this one. Full, warm, carefree. Even his snack could barely keep still. Although, it was doubtful from any kind of pleasure. More likely it would be the discomfort that came from slowly being digested alive.

He’d be perfectly safe however. Maybe a little worse for wear, but he’d come back up in one piece when the predator was through with him. Probably. You see, this is where the predator’s superior self control came in handy. His snacks were just too good to finish off altogether, so he’d learned just how much to slow his digestion and just how long they could last under those conditions. The boy was his lollipop, and once the predator had indulged in his single taste, he’d put him back in his wrapper for next time.

After several minutes of lounging comfortably and gently kneading his stomach into submission, the predator decided he’d stalled long enough. There was a pile of paperwork with his name on it just waiting for him.

But as he sat upright, the chair squeaking in protest, he realized just how sleepy his snack had made him. And though he fought so very valiantly to convince himself that work was more important, the need for sleep won out. He deserved a little nap, didn’t he? He’d been working terribly hard lately. Of course he deserved it.

So with the resolution that it would only be a very short nap, the predator hefted himself to his feet and slowly made his way to the bedroom. The journey was made somewhat difficult by the suddenly very lively weight in his middle, scrambling for purchase with each step, but the predator fought through such tribulations with barely a moan of protest.

The softness of his bed called to him and he fell into it without hesitation. He felt his snack pushing back as it was unceremoniously pinned between his weight and the bed, but the sleep now overtaking the predator left him quite unbothered by his snack’s inconvenient location.

As his eyes fell shut, the predator double checked that he had his stomach under control and promised himself once more that this nap would only last a short while.

And then he knew no more.

* * * * * * * * * *

When the predator awoke, he found himself unusually groggy. He blinked and yawned in the half-light of his room, wondering why he didn’t feel his usual peppy self after a good, hearty nap. It wasn’t until he tried to sit up and found himself impeded by the weight in his middle that he remembered what was going on.

He checked the time and was aghast at how late it was. Internally, he scolded himself for being so careless. Where was his usual sense of self control? Not only that, but he was further worried by how unusually still the weight in his stomach was.

He grimaced as he looked down at the curve of his belly. He liked to pretend his snacks were lollipops that would last ages if he was careful enough— one little taste at a time, but sometimes they felt more like a piece of gum— chew it up and spit it out ad nauseam, but grow too careless and you could swallow it, make it gone for good after just one tiny mistake.

If he wanted to get technical, he could say that this was how he’d lost most, or rather all, his previous snacks. He’d get distracted just one time for a little too long and his stomach had its way with them. Tragic, really. So many snacks gone too soon when they still had so much to offer.

“Hello, in there?” the predator called as he poked at his engorged tummy. He felt some small hope in finding whatever was inside to still be relatively solid. “Are you still kicking in there, Number Fourteen?”

The predator jumped in surprise when he received what felt like a kick to his stomach walls.

“Oh!” he said as a second kick (for good measure, he assumed) struck another uncomfortable blow. “I thought I’d finished you off in my sleep!” he told his snack in excitement. “But you’re doing surprisingly well in there, it seems. I think you could last for another few hours at most!”

There was a pause in which the predator was sure his snack was processing this exciting new opportunity, and then Number Fourteen went absolutely feral, struggling with a ferocity he’d seemingly given up on after the first five or six times he’d been been swallowed down. The predator was impressed. His current snack was now rivaling the persistence of Snack Number Four. That one never seemed to grow exhausted or give up.

“Yes, yes,” the predator offered his assurances as he kneaded his snack back into submission, “I know you’re just as elated as I am to spend more time together.”

Another kick.

The predator gave his belly a firm squeeze, coaxing the contents within to cooperate. “But you’ll need to try to contain yourself. Or would you rather continue acting up? It does get rather difficult to control my stomach when you’re moving so deliciously about.”

His snack went deathly still.

“Thought so.”

With only a negligible amount of difficulty, the predator pushed himself out of bed and stumbled out of the room. His snack came back to life as the movement jostled it about. The predator clutched at his belly as it cramped up. He never did like walking on a full stomach.

Finally, he reached his desk. His office chair sat invitingly before a not-so-inviting looking stack of papers. He frowned, still fighting off the grogginess from his earlier nap. Even with the comfort of a full belly and a reinvigorating nap, doing paperwork felt about as desirable as pulling teeth. His own teeth, of course. The predator had never pulled someone else’s teeth, but he thought it would likely be more interesting than paperwork.

The predator turned his thoughts over and over in his head, looking for something, anything that could make the task at hand even just a tad bit more enticing.

The predator snapped his fingers as his thoughts clicked into place.

“That’s it!” he exclaimed before heading back to the kitchen, still clutching his belly to keep the both of them steady.

Yes, he’d had one snack, but why not a second snack? And not a special snack like Number Fourteen. But just a normal snack, something to munch on. Oh, he did love to munch, and his snacks absolutely loathed sharing space with actual food. They always got disgruntled and squirmy, just enough so that the predator got a pleasant internal massage out of it.

The predator threw open his pantry with relish and began digging through the shelves for something of interest. This proved to be a more difficult task than usual as the weight in his middle continually threatened to throw him off balance whenever he leaned down for a closer look. Thankfully, the predator was never one for quitting and he fought valiantly not to fall flat on his face (an effort he was sure his snack appreciated as well). After an arduous battle with the pantry shelves and his own stomach, the predator emerged victorious with his prize in hand. A somewhat simple bag of potato chips, never before opened. Now this was sure to motivate him to his paperwork.

The predator was halfway back to his desk before he fully considered the consequences of choosing such a salty snack. Of course he’d need a beverage to wash it down with, it was only sensible. He turned on his heel, then nearly turned into a topple as he forgot he was quite belly-heavy at the moment. His non-potato chip snack braced itself awkwardly against his stomach walls while the predator readjusted himself.

Next thing, in a series of events much like in the pantry, the predator was rifling through the refrigerator. When he finally stepped away, he was carrying a bottle of only the finest of cherry colas and glad to be upright and well-balanced again.

With a certainty that he was finally prepared for that hateful pile of paperwork, the predator returned to his desk. He pulled out his chair and fell into it with a grateful sigh. It was always terribly tiresome carrying around so much extra weight. It took some adjusting, lowering his seat so there was room for his belly beneath the desk, and spreading his knees so the weight of his snack didn’t cut off his circulation, but finally the predator could comfortably rest his elbows on the desk and start writing.

With a very satisfying burst of salty scents, he tore open the bag of chips. He took a bite and gave an agreeable hum. Of course Snack Number Fourteen was his favored thing to eat, but they just didn’t provide the pleasurable crunch of a good potato chip.

The predator couldn’t suppress a small smile when he swallowed and felt the consequent twitch of surprise from Number Fourteen.

“Sorry about that,” he said, patting his stomach and hoping he was hitting somewhere close to his snack’s back. He wasn’t actually sorry. In fact, he quite liked the idea of all his favorite foods in one place, but it didn’t seem very politic to say so aloud.

He apologized and patted his stomach/maybe-Number-Fourteen’s-back again when he took a swig of soda for the first time. Number Fourteen gave a jab of annoyance and a very unsuccessful shifting of positions, but other than that the predator didn’t get any further protests from his snack.

“Right then,” the predator mumbled as he leafed through his papers, “I guess the only thing left to do is get started.”

And so he did. The next few hours were nothing but the scratching of his pen and the munching of his chips. His snack was restless for a great deal of it, particularly when the predator swallowed down some soda, but nothing too distracting. It probably helped that the chips and cola barely lasted through the first hour.

When his one hand was free, the predator would rest it distractedly on his middle, appreciating the warmth his slow digestion provided. He could feel, and occasionally hear, his stomach working ever so slowly over the contents within. It was all the same to his stomach— chips, soda, another living being. It plodded along relentlessly with its one job, contracted and breaking down whatever was put into it. It brought a certain kind of awe to the predator, and he loved to help it along with the occasional doting rub.

The predator didn’t notice it happening, but all of a sudden the hour was very late. He stared at the time for a few moments, not quite comprehending how so much of it had already passed. Come to think of it, he thought as he straightened out his now completed pile of paperwork, he hadn’t felt any movement from his snack in quite awhile.

“You still hanging on in there?” the predator asked, pressing his fingers into the curve of his belly. He couldn’t help but cringe as it felt like the form of his snack was much softer than it previously had been.

“Oh dear,” he said softly. And he really had been doing so well with this one.

He was just about to give up and go to bed so his stomach could finish up the job, when he felt the weakest of movement come from deep within his middle.

“Ah, so you are still alive in there!”

As if to exacerbate his point, his snack gave another commendable effort at moving.

“Right, just one moment then,” the predator said, clumsily pushing himself away from his desk and hoisting himself upright again. “Don’t want to dirty up my office, you understand.”

Number Fourteen gave a terrible shudder as the predator began his somewhat uncomfortable walk to the bathroom. The predator cringed again with each step. The contents of his stomach felt somewhat less… solid than when he’d made his earlier trip to the kitchen. He’d really goofed up this time, hadn’t he?

He hesitated once he made it to the bathtub. There was a fine line between lightly simmered in stomach acids but still salvageable versus broken down beyond repair yet still somehow clinging to life. The last thing he wanted was to deal with a quickly expiring snack in his bathtub. He really didn’t think he could manage swallowing them down again after that. Maybe it would be better for everyone if he gave up and just went to bed, letting his stomach finish off Number Fourteen.

The predator frowned as he stroked his hand in circles over the now softened surface of his belly.

Oh, but finding a new snack was so difficult. And he really did enjoy Number Fourteen, even if the boy sorely lacked a sense of humor.

“I really hope you’re not too far gone,” he told his snack with a new sense of resolve.

With a practiced contracting of muscles, the predator began the awfully distasteful process of bringing his snack back up. While he enjoyed keeping his snacks around for as long as possible, he couldn’t say that he quite enjoyed this part of the process. If he could simply make his snack re-appear outside of his stomach, he’d lead a much happier life. But alas. Such are the sacrifices he makes to get what he wants.

After much heaving and gagging, Snack Number Fourteen pushed its way back up the predator’s throat to land in a sloppy heap on the bathtub floor.

The boy groaned as the predator leaned down to inspect him.

“I thought you weren’t gonna let me out this time.” Snack Number Fourteen’s voice was hoarse and he wheezed with each breath.

The predator cleared his throat to hide his embarrassment. The boy really was in the worst shape he’d ever seen.

“Well,” the predator started, looking for the right words, “sorry about that.”

The boy gave him a blood-shot look of pure loathing.

“I really didn’t mean to go this far,” the predator continued, unabated. “I simply got so caught up in my work that I… forgot about you. You know how it is.”

“I really don’t,” the boy replied, sounding much like what the predator imagined sandpaper would sound like if it could speak.

The predator decided the best thing to do in this situation would be to pretend he hadn’t heard his snack. So instead, he grabbed the shower head and reached for the faucet. “Why don’t we get you washed up then?”

The snack let out a startled cry as the cold water washed over his angry, red skin. The predator quietly apologized again, but it was no matter. A minute later and his snack lay motionless, eyes fallen shut with exhaustion as he let the predator clean off all the wayward stomach acid from his skin. The predator was quite adept at this— starting at the top, where the more sensitive skin was, and working his way down. There was something very satisfying about starting the process of restoring his snack all over again. But even after the predator had finished, the boy lay sprawled on the bathtub floor, eyes closed, chest rising and falling.

The predator kept silent. He did feel a little guilty. Not only that, but also a little frustrated. With his snack in this state, it would take weeks for him to be strong enough for another round in his stomach. Perhaps it was karma for the predator’s own hubris. He prided himself on his self-control, but a momentary lapse in focus had left him with his prized Number Fourteen in this horrific state. Maybe it would have been easier if he’d just accepted his loss and gone to bed. At least he could start off with a new snack right away.

The predator gave a mental shrug.

Ah well, no use crying over spilled milk and all that.

“Why don’t we get some aloe on you?” he suggested once he could no longer stand waiting for his snack to come out of whatever state he was in. Patience was a virtue, of course, but it was getting very late and the predator needed his beauty sleep just as much as anyone.

The boy’s eyes flicked open and slid to look at him.

“Fine,” was his only word.

The boy pulled himself out of the tub and took a careful seat on the edge of the closed toilet. The predator did a thorough job slathering him in aloe, something the boy seemed to appreciate.

After a failed attempt at getting the boy to walk back to his room on his own, the predator was forced to carry him there. He wondered if the boy really was so weak from his injuries that he couldn’t stand or if he was only feigning weakness as a sort of punishment for the predator’s neglectfulness. The predator supposed, in a way, this arrangement wasn’t much different than earlier, except now he held his snack in his arms, not his belly.

“Home sweet home,” the predator commented as he pushed his way into Number Fourteen’s room.

The boy began squirming at the sight of it. He made a little sound, like a cross between a groan and a growl.

“I know you’re ecstatic to see it again,” the predator told him. “Especially since you almost didn’t make it back this time.”

The boy stopped squirming. The predator deposited him on the cot at the far end of the room.

“Wait there for a moment, please,” he told the boy before heading out of the room. The boy didn’t respond, he just laid very still on his tiny bed, staring at the ceiling. The predator made sure he locked the door behind him.

He headed to the pantry and pulled out two large plastic bottles of water and another bottle of sports drink for good measure. He was about to make a beeline back to his snack when he stopped. After a night like this, the predator usually waited until the next day to give his snack anymore food, but he had nearly digested the poor boy alive this time. He didn’t want to ruin the perfectly good rapport they had developed over these special months together.

He scanned the pantry shelves for something he could give the boy as an apology. Something that really said, “Sorry I got distracted and nearly sent you on a one-way trip to my bowels.” Even the predator grimaced at such a thought.

He took some time considering all his options, until he settled on what seemed the best one. A halfway finished jar of cocktail peanuts. The jar was halfway empty because they were quite good, and the predator picked it up with a sense of satisfaction, certain he’d made the best choice to demonstrate his deepest condolences.

When he re-entered the room, he found that the boy hadn’t moved from his frankly despondent state on the bed. The predator approached, keeping the peanuts hidden from view, and set one of the water bottles and the sports drink on the wobbly bedside table.

“Get up,” he commanded the boy, prodding him with the other water bottle. “You need to drink. Being burned can leave you very badly dehydrated.” And then he stopped and re-considered. “Or at least sunburns can. I’m not too sure about stomach acid burns as, well, you know, I’ve never had the privilege of being partly digested.”

These words roused the boy. With hiss of pain, he pushed himself into a sitting position and gave the predator one his favorite looks to give— a venomous stare.

He still took the bottle and began chugging the water, stray dribbles running down his cheeks and over his exposed throat.

“I do have something extra for you,” the predator told him, unable to hide his delight. “Something special.”

The boy stopped drink immediately. “What is it?” he asked, sounding almost excited for once.

“Here!” The predator said, unable to wait any longer. He shoved the jar of peanuts toward his snack.

The boy looked down at it and blinked.

“It’s an apology of sorts,” the predator explained. “You know, since I went a little too far this time. I honestly feared you wouldn’t make the night if I let you out, and I almost gave up on you. But look at you now! I’m sure you’ll be ready for another round in no time!”

The boy’s face fell and his eyes went cold and empty. “Thanks,” he said, the word devoid of any of his earlier excitement.

“Of course, my snack,” the predator told him as jovial as ever. “Well, I’ll let you get back to it then.”

Snack Number Fourteen didn’t answer. Only gave him a look of searing hatred, his blood-shot eyes somehow burning brighter than before.

The predator only gave him a reassuring smile as he closed the door.

“Goodnight, my snack. Until next time.”

He locked the door tight behind him.

And in just a few minutes, the predator had fallen into bed, finally letting a real, deep sleep overcome him. Despite a few bumps in the road, tonight had been a very fulfilling night. The only thing left empty now was his stomach, which grumbled quietly, eagerly awaiting the next time it would get to spend a few hours working over Snack Number Fourteen.

#honestly really obsessed with this pred don’t look at me #he is so delightful #and tbh I like the dynamic between him and the prey too #soft vore #v.ore #non fatal vore #same size vore #size difference vore #(up to interpretation)#willing pred #unwilling prey #male pred #male prey #cruel pred #vore day #vore day 2023 #vore day 2k23

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gt-preys · 1 year

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Mouthplay

I love the concept of a pred trying to ease their prey into allowing themself to be eaten.

The pred opens their mouth wide, letting little hands feel around. Trailing their palms over the smooth glistening teeth, tracing over sharp canines. Bushing over the tongue with a feather light touch, making the pred shiver and exhale. A puff of warm breath blowing over the tiny.

Small hands holding onto their bottom lip as they lean down to press a kiss to their pred's lip. In turn the pred gently flicks the prey's chin with their tongue. They close their lips over the prey's hands, licking and sucking at them. Shivering at the odd feeling of tiny fingers against their tongue.

They open their mouth to let their prey take their hands back. Gently pushing the prey back to lay down, the pred tracing their finger down the prey's side, gentle hungry eyes gaze down at them. So full of love and awe at their trust. The pred leans down, face hovering above them as warm puffs of air fan over their tiny body. The pred's tongue slips out from between pink lips to drag up the prey's front.

The pred laps at them, soft licks slowly becoming stronger, pressing their body into the table top below. The pred hums at their flavour, they taste wonderful. The pred leans forwards to lick from their torso up to their chin, pulling back to admire the beautiful blush that pools in the prey's cheeks.

The prey leans up to brush their hand across their pred's bottom teeth and in turn the pred takes the prey's arm into their mouth, using gentle pressure to nibble at their arm playfully.

Pulling back the pred moves down, tongue slipping out to scoop the prey's legs up, drawing the limbs into their mouth. They push down, closing their lips around the prey's waist. They hum at the prey's taste, smiling around their body.

The prey watches as their legs disappear into the pred's maw. They reach out to stroke the top lip, smiling as the pred melts under their touch.

Ever so small, yet they hold so much power over the pred.

The pred sits back taking the prey with them, a hand hovering beneath their tiny form. The pred leans completely back, tilting their head back so the prey is vertical. The prey stares down at the pred's blissed out expression as they softly taste the tiny on their tongue.

In one fluid motion the tongue slips out beneath the prey to curl over the top of their head. Lips opening just long enough to draw the prey down between them. Teeth clicking shut behind them. The pred groans at the feeling of their tiny weight resting in their mouth. So perfect.

The pred flicks the prey over their teeth and into their cheek, sucking their tiny form. Righting their head, the pred opens their eyes to look in the vanities mirror. Smirking at the sight of the prey's squirming outline through their cheek. They watch on for a moment, enjoying the feeling of tiny hands pressing to the soft flesh of their cheek. The pred eventually rolls them back onto their tongue opening their mouth, they grin at the little face peeking from between their lips in the mirror.

The prey rolls over onto their stomach to look for themselves. They like the reflection, their pred looks so happy and they're so comfy. The pred's tongue flicks up to lick their face, chuckling at the disgusted look the prey shoots them through the mirror.

The tongue below them bucks and they're drawn backwards as the pred swallows them. Mouth still open, the pred watches as they disappear from their maw. They close their mouth and tilt their head back slightly to watch the bump appear in their throat. They trace it with their eyes as it disappears behind their collarbone.

Delicious.

The pred sighs, satisfied with their little snack as the prey spills out into their stomach. They recline in their chair, patting their stomach softly. "You really hit the spot, sweetheart~" they grin as the prey curls up warm and comfy in their pred's stomach, blushing at the praise.

#v/ore #mouthplay #maw #mawplay #prey speaks #vore shitpost #vore fic #willing prey #willing pred #defo was thinking of B/illy hargrove whilst writing this #the longer mouthplay is drawn out the better #nothing but mouthplay

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serene-sun · 1 month

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𝕾𝖍𝖆𝖉𝖔𝖜 𝖌𝖍𝖔𝖚𝖑

Read chapter one

Chapter two of my series, “𝕽𝖔𝖘𝖊 𝕲𝖆𝖗𝖉𝖊𝖓 𝕱𝖚𝖓𝖊𝖗𝖆𝖑 𝕺𝖋 𝕾𝖔𝖗𝖊𝖘”

Summary: After a multitude of wrong doings at your catholic church, you and four other nuns are sent on a mysterious transfer to a ministry nobody dares speak of. On behalf of the Count Copia, you are welcomed after a suspenseful journey.

Chapter summary: your first night there, you have a strange nightmare. You decide to take a walk to get rid of the paranoia when the beast from the nightmare shortly introduces himself…not like a gentlemen tho…

warnings: LOTS of sexual stuff but no smut, details of a wolf eating a sheep, sexual harassment (its Swiss flirting), ghoul beef, creepy spiritual activity, nightmares, virginity kink, prey/pred, reader doesn't wear underwear to bed

a/n: shadow ghoul is Swiss, quintess ghoul is omega. This is chapter two of my new series! be on the lookout because chapter three is going to be heartfelt lore.....oh, I wonder if it has anything to do with the cliffhanger...

A loud bang erupted from your sleep, you quickly turned on the lamp beside your bed. A sigh is heard from the other women in the room as they watch you.

“What are you doing? It's the middle of the night?” They say, also turning on their lamps.

You step out of the bed, long nightgown falling to the floor, and the white lace pools around your feet. “I-I heard a loud crash, did you not hear it too?” You say, a shaky voice cracking as a shiver washes down your spine.

“No? Are you sure you're not just paranoid?” One says as she stands up from the bed, she walks over to you and places a hand on your shoulder.

You jump at the touch, “Maybe…I just…I swear I heard something…”

The girl sighed, she let her breath draw out until it abruptly stopped. You could feel her own eyes go wide behind you.

“D-do you see that?” She says chillingly as she points at one of the dressers close to the door.

“See what?” You ask as you focus on the dark room, but all you see are shadows until your eyes adjust, making a clear outline of a black shadow of a man.

“What the f-uck.” You say as you stumble back, ‘What the hell is that???”

The shadow doesn't move, it stays still until loud and quick footsteps run across the room, the furniture shaking with them.

Your breath runs out as you run cold, you're speechless as you feel a draft of air come across your face and neck. You feel something sharp like a scratch against your back and neck before a scream rings directly into your ear.

That's when you jump up from your bed and quickly turn on the lamp again, awakening from what seemed to be a nightmare. You catch your breath, surprisingly not waking the others as you pull your hair back, staring into the blanket pattern as to regain thought.

You drag yourself from the bed and take one of the candles, lighting the way out of the room and into the hallway. Your footsteps are silent against the obsidian floor, bare feet patting against the cold crystal lightly as you walk your mind off.

As you venture farther down the hall you take in the paintings, how they all show stories that would usually be in the bibble but from the other perspective. You took the moment to take in the fact that this was now your home, people, and soon to be your religion. Holding your finger, you don't notice the eyes that begin to appear from the eerie sides of the hallway.

Your candle suddenly blows out and you gasp, “Hello? Is someone there?” You say, holding yourself closer to the wall in a panic.

But as your back hits the safety of the wall you realize it's no wall at all but rather the torso of a being. You screech, dropping the candle holder as it falls to the floor. A slender and clawed hand covers your mouth as you’re held against the body. Your screams are muffled as you struggle against the figure. Your hands reach about, as the devil's hands slide up your nightgown. Quickly, you use the rosary that was wrapped around your wrist and stab the demon's arm.

They let out a loud groan as you're released.

You stumble onto the floor and crawl away, “Leave me alone! You ratchet devil!” You yell, pulling your knees to your chest.

The beast slowly walks closer with his hands out putting distance between the two, “I'm not going to hurt you, who are you? It's far past curfew.” The voice says, rusty like a blood moon.

Out of the moonlit streek of the hall, his pure black hands show as he gets closer, and two pure white sparkling eyes peer through the night.

“I- I….why did you attack me?” You say franticly as you stand up, grabbing the candlestick and pointing it at him threateningly.

“Woah now…be careful with that thing..” he says, taking a step back as you urge it closer, “you do not know how sharp tha-” He says before you press it to his stubbled chin, even tho you can't see anything or any part of him you can smell cigarettes and sandalwood from him.

“Hey….you best be careful with that thing lady…or we can have some real problems.” He says, placing a hand on your’s griping the gold metal. He suddenly pulls back his hand in agony as he sharply gasps, “Fuck!” The demon holds his hand, angry eyes looking down to the silver cross ring on your finger.

“Who are you? Why are you here? Why do you have that?” The nameless ghoul grabs your wrist, making you drop the stick.

“Y-you scare me….you attacked me!” You defend as tears bubble up.

“You're obviously not from here….you must be one of the new play things….” The beast shadow says as it softens his grip, “My apologies for being so rude, we just have strict rules here regarding curfews…”

“I…apoligize too….” You couldn't believe you were saying sorry to a hellish creature but perhaps he was like the first ghoul you met, “Please explain the curfew…”

“Well for one…they put you in the wrong part of the ministry…this is too close to the northwest wing for comfort.” he says, “You must be in your rooms for the rest of the night before midnight….usually any guests breaking this rule gets a harsh verbal beating from the sister imperator…” He says, hand sliding down your arm and pushing the lacey sleeve up, “But If you have special permission from one of the upper clergy men….your safe.” his touch is soft and almost addicting, his eyes shiny like the moon behind him. It makes you want to faint like you must consume him whole before he's gone like the wind.

“Why…..why is there such a curfew?” You ask, thoughts being drained as you wander off into the endless range of his eyes.

“Because….here…after the sun leaves us we demons roam.” He says, hand softly tracing up your shoulder and collar bone to your chin to hold, “Everything not behind a closed door after midnight belongs to us….” He caresses your cheek.

You feel a wave of heat wash over you like a fever, except this was no simply cured one. What was this plaguing love that filled you? Was this admiration? Fondness? Jealousy? What sin had tainted your heart so black that it coils up like this? To make your veins run empty and your lungs frail. What could possibly have your head pounding so hard you can feel your eyes unfocus and blur out as your mouth runs dry?

Could this possibly be lust? Such an evil intrusive need, invading like wolves on a sheep farm. You can feel the wolf's eyes stare you down, and that shiver runs up your spine as his position gets lower. Like a star, he pounces and lets his fangs dive deep into your flesh. Blood spills everywhere as small pieces of wool spill from the unsilent night like snow. How innocence was instantly turned into nothingness, to the abyss, how life so quickly faded into the blackness of violence. To death.

Except you were no sheep, no little lamb a child could lie on. And this beast, claws, tail, eyes, and motion like a wolf was not one. Perhaps he would have the same intentions, to devour what has been lazily left into the night. Forgotten, lost, innocent, and vulnerable you were in this dark mysterious presence. It would be child's play for him to ruin you, to take every ounce of life and dignity away.

You let out a soft moan, your eyes opening softly as you realize you have lost yourself. You stand faint in his arms, his tail wrapped around your parted legs. The soft nightgown bunched up to your hips, exposed legs and genitals, how you could feel your nipples harden at the cold gust of breath fan across the fabric so daring to fall down your shoulders. The top four buttons were undone and tampered with like they were viciously pulled apart. His claws dig into your thighs, one slender black finger caressing high enough to just barely touch the hair hiding away your wet folds.

Your so out of it, this plague was more a drug than any impulse. You feel limp, like your half out of blood and oxygen. His other hand wraps around your throat, and that feeling becomes a reality as he softly squeezes.

Your eyes slowly fall shut from the lack of oxygen till the lust-filled demon jolts, a voice across the hall coming from two fierce black eyes. Their aura is even stronger than this one, overwhelmingly strong and relevant to the first nameless ghoul. You could tell they weren't the same, just by the voice this one was far more dominant and older.

“Shadow.” He says, deep voice trembling your heart rate it almost snaps you back into reality.

“Quintess…lovely to see you…” The captive-holding ghoul says behind you, his grip getting tighter as the hand around your thrat goes to pin your waist against his.

Were these their personal names? Perhaps it would be easier to give them all names instead of calling them all nameless ghouls.

“Let her go..” Quintess says arms crossed as he steps into the moonlight.

Your eyes are wide open now, standing up straight as you see the first look of what a ghoul is. He has white hair, pure as snow that's brushed back and slightly wavey. His eyes are normal besides the white slit of his pupil. He has two chipped twisted horns that look to be made of lapis llazul, they glow and sparkle even with their harsh rugged used look. His face is soft, and round, and has a nice defined chin and jaw. His skin is also white but has a hint of purple and grey. Two scars ride from his pointed ear to his lips, which look like claw marks from some kind of fight. His tail is particularly long and has a furry end. He's in a black uniform, it has a hood but is pulled off, it has a large belt with symbols on it and a crucifix necklace. You feel safe by his look, he has the same energy and intentions as the nameless ghoul.

“Why…you know as well as everyone else that what's left to the dark belongs to us,” Shadow says, seductive voice gesturing to the lamb trapped in his arms.

“You and I both know that if she denies you sex you will go back along your night with no second thoughts, You're only trying to look strong and powerful because she's new. You were delighted to see that she wasn't one of the usual sisters of sin roaming around because they wish to either die or be filled with your cum. So of course why not ruin this catholic virgin before one of the fires does.” He says simply, your a little embarrassed but you try to escape his grip.

Shadow growls, “I do not have to worry about if she wants it tonight or not, she will come to my chambers one of these nights, swarmed with thoughts and dreams of me pounding her delicious tight cunt because that's what lord Asmodeus wants out of her and that's what she wants.” he bites back, “There is no escaping the lust she will feel for me, just wait your time and ill send you a letter soaked in her orgasm and signed with her blood sweat and tears explaining how she loves being whipped and bitten to oblivion.”

You tremble at his words, unsure of what any of it mean.

His arms let you free and you stumble to the other side of the hallway, thankful for this white ghoul.

“T-thank you..” You breathe out so heavily it hurts, you want to hug him for his kindness.

“Go on, shadow. To find a seeking victim.” Quintess says as the shadow ghoul disappears, even before you get to see any part of him besides his eyes and arms.

“Are you ok? Did he hurt you in any way?” The ghoul asks as he looks you over, strong demeanor coming down as he softens. His face fills with worry, and concern as he fixes your nightgown and buttons the top back together.

“No, i….I'm dearly sorry…I seem to be causing trouble here.” You apologize to another demon, “Forgive me…”

“Oh, child, no concern needed your very very new and you have much to learn.” He says, fixing your hair as well, his hand acting as a brush with his claws as he wipes the strands of hair from your forehead. “Come let me get you back to bed..”

“No wait…I” You say nervously, “There…was something in there…it doesn't feel safe..”

“Hmm? Is there a ghoul in there?” He asks,

“No…I just...I mean not to be childish but I feel a dark entity in there and I felt it watch me as I sleep..” You answer you had always felt spirits, another reason for your removal from the church.

“That's alright, I understand, we do have wondering spirits here.” He says, hand placed on your back to guide you down the hall, “If you don't mind, you can sleep in my room tonight, I won't be using it.” he offers

“Oh, that’s very kind of you, I don't want to barge you out though.” You say as he leads down the hall.

“Don't worry, I'll be sleeping with a friend tonight anyways.” quintess says as he soon opens the door to his chambers.

It's nice, a cozy and warm look with a made bed in the corner between bookshelves and a few storage boxes on the other side of the room. There was a cold and cobwebbed-covered fireplace. The room had obviously not been used for quite some time, but you stayed quiet.

You sit on the bed, feeling over and noticing there is something under the pillow. You grab it, only to realize that it is a lock of black hair tied together with a silky purple ribbon.

The quintess ghoul quickly takes it, “I apologize, that wasn't supposed to be there.” he says

You nod, “Sorry…i'll go to sleep now..” You say before he leaves. You can't helo but stay up even later wondering what the lock of hair was, and why he was so tense about it. It was so black, like night, and it was so little of it….

like it had been scavenged pieces found across the floor.

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