This choice: Predate the goopily slime-covered slug family • Go Back...Chapter #6Predate the goopily slime-covered slug family by: WangJohnson   You decide... that you feel like a meal with some sticky, slimy sauce.
You slowly creep after the slug people, your padded hands and feet silently clinging to the wall as you crawl up, eventually tracking them while hanging from the ceiling above their heads, your transparent hermaphrodite competitor's dress invisible above the fiercely glaring lights.
The assorted slug-people are so caught up in discussing some 'black hare' they're here to see - you thought they were here for a slug? - that they don't even notice when the bathroom's double-doors hang open a little too long behind them while you creep in after them.
Clinging to the tiled ceiling in the bathroom, the sounds of the stadium beyond completely muffled, you take stock of your prey as they disperse to different stalls. Ranging in size from coming up to your tits to nearly eye level and all at least as plump as you if not so potbellied, the assorted slug-people remind you of forced-vore-stuffed sacrificial meals back home, tributes from tribes seeking your favor. To think such decadent meals would be so easy to find... you wish you'd left your little vorish empire to see the world sooner. In the end you decide to continue being cautious, just in case, and start with the smallest, weakest looking slug, pale green, modest of hip and breast despite their thickness, and sporting a flexing dick that's more long than actually large.
They're noisily settling down over a squat toilet, slime frothing and squelching in bending joints and beneath shifting feet, a similar din echoing from all the other freshly occupied stalls. Under such loud cover and with nothing around for prey to cling to, your job is easy.
You position yourself directly above your target, using one hand to plump your swelling dick as you line its widening slit up with the slug's head, and you strike before they can notice your dripping precum.
You thrust your hips forward right as the slug's heaved out a sigh, your hungry cock engulfing their head in one go. You take advantage of their surprise, flexing and thrusting, helping your greedy dick swallow them up to mid-chest. Oh, that's nice; slug shoulders are easy to slip lips past, what with how squishy and yielding they are. The slug's finally catching on and starts to resist, but by now it's too late. You've got a firm grip on the ceiling they aren't shaking, and they've got no breath to call out for help with - they can't even reach the stall walls with their flailing legs. Your gluttonously swollen prick continues to slurp and gulp, hungrily pulling the slug in up to their waist. You can feel the slug's nipples hardening even as they're dragged down your urethra. Your larger dick domineeringly swallows the slug's own, and after you crest your prey's hips at their fattest the rest is a breeze. Your sack swells as more and more slug-girl is fed into its churning depths, and soon your sack ponderously sags with satisfying weight.
...It's not enough - this close to so many other meals so easy and big, after nearly a lifetime of never feeling properly stuffed?
You need more.
Barrel-sized sack happily churning and digesting with your sluggy cocksnack already deforming, your dick still leg-sized and thigh-thick with vorish lust you crawl one stall over, to peer down at another vulnerable-looking slug, mid-squat.
Far fatter than the one you just suckled down your cumslit - one of the weightiest of the slugs you've stalked in fact, despite being a bit shorter than their group's average and liable to only come up to your collar - the dirt-brown slug herm before you couldn't be called voluptuous, but she does have an outstanding feature. The milk-white cock that twists and turns under its own power to piss patterns into the squat toilet beneath the slug's crotch is thick, wide enough it's pushing a ring of slimy skin up the slug's abdomen. When your dick closes over her head it's to find it even goopier than the last, and for a heart-pounding moment you worry they'll slip out before your hungry cock finds its grip... but then everything works out. You thrust your hips, your cock flexes and gulps, your urethra elastically welcomes a meal, and soon a second slug is sliding into your balls, before the first is even fully digested.
Sack larger, heavier, and pulling more forcefully at your crotch with its swollen weight, you continue to hear oblivious slugs going about their business, and all you can think is how you want more.
You shift another stall down in your skittering cling to the ceiling, balls still clearing the tops of the dividers, and you prey on another slug.
One of the tallest and most buxom of the slugs - who sports a surprisingly small dick for their size, even by nonvorish standards - is your next meal, their extra sticky slime making them a breeze to gulp down. There's no stalling as your dick swallows the largest bust you've yet feasted on, no slippage amidst their struggles, and soon they're sliding into an already slug-packed sack, swelling it even further. You're already more stuffed than you've been in years, and not far from the most stuffed you've ever been. Three sets of slugs writhe and silently struggle in your stretched out sack, slowly growing weaker as they churn in your vorish sperm factories.
More.
You crawl further across the ceiling, feeling your sack scrape across the top of the stall dividers as you position yourself above a new target, taking advantage of your sack's encumbering weight to lend your cockvorishly predatory lunge earthward some extra intensity.
To your delight, you finally get to prey on the leader of this group. The tallest, largest, curviest and loudest, the neon yellow slug sports torpedo tits more than thrice the size of your own modestly perky chest, her areola just as puffy as yours but her nipples lewdly protruding rather than inverted and buried like your own. Her transparent, neon-blue cock is so huge it flaccidly spilled out of her genital slit even before she reached the bathroom, and you wouldn't be surprised if she was bigger than you. You lust after her broodmotherishly flared hips, juicy ass and massively buxom chest, in all their slimily glistening glory. To wrap your dick around her head, to suck her silently struggling body down with impunity, her remaining followers unaware?
It's intoxicating, and you need more.
Your fingers and toes starting to get tired from lugging around your increasingly hefty weight and your sack's tug starting to hurt, you carefully pull your sack half-over the next stall divider, and consider your next prey.
Prey, plural that is; it seems like some slugs wanted to have a little quick fun, as the shortest slug of the group, a little rust-colored herm deepthroats a soot-black slug with long legs and droopy eyestalks. Their mixed slimes have managed to gunk up the gutter, and they seem intently focused on keeping their sounds softer than the less lewd squelching coming from the other stalls. With a grin you wait until the slug getting head starts to cum before you pounce, cumhole yawning wide and taking them up to the belly-button in one fell swoop. Your sack follows you over the stall's wall, and heavily lands with a loud squelch that manages to blend in with the slug group's squishy noises. The slug giving head is too intent on her task to notice the change in how her partner writhes, only catching on as your cock slides over them as well - too late by far.
You softly sigh in lustful bliss, sack thoroughly stuffed and almost feeling clogged or too-tight as it manages to sag the whole way to the floor, and you lower your hips towards the relief.
You bask in the pleasure radiating from your over-packed nuts as prey after prey goes still and dissolves fully.
Your body already tingling as it begins to absorb the absolutely enormous feast you fed your balls, you notice that the obscuring and obnoxiously moist squeaks of slugs going about their business is wrapping up, and you hear stall doors opening.
More or less immobilized by the great weight of prey you've jammed into your hungry sack, stuck in a bathroom stall one of the slugs entered, invisible but still garbed in a transparent competitor's dress, and feeling the unfamiliar thrill of vulnerability, you hear...   indicates the next chapter needs to be written. |
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