This choice: The slugs assume their friends already left • Go Back...Chapter #7The slugs assume their friends already left by: WangJohnson   It sounds like the slugs are used to their leader haring off without them, leaving them to figure it out and catch up on their own; how fortunate for you.
You hang in silence a little while longer as you hear sticky steps moving towards the door, and longer still after you hear it swing shut in their wake.
Only when you're sure that you're alone do you let go of the ceiling and drop back down to the floor.
You land bent double as if cradling the swollen sack that now outsizes you, then straighten and back up, tugging and waddling your balls back until you can lean on the tiles of the bathroom's wall.
Then, alone and well-fed, you have fun.
Well-padded and extra-grippy fingers wrap about your cock as it finally settles down to a normal sort of erection, and you bring your twitching member to your mouth. Tonguefucking yourself with your prehensile oral organ as you seal your lips about your prick, you happily let loose in your own mouth, hips bucking as your own jizz floods down your throat. It's delicious as always, the accents the slugs provide exotic to your tastebuds - but there's just so much! Gallons continue to geyser straight down your gullet, your well fed paunch rapidly ballooning out. Soon you're getting so bloated that your belly is starting to push your cock away from your lips, and in your efforts to maintain your guzzling connection you can feel cum spurting out of your ass, pressurized to the far end of your system. You tightly pucker your butthole as best you can, but you can still feel some cum leaking away.
At last you finish swallowing your biggest load yet, gasping as it sloshes in your now-swollen belly... and then you rekiss your dick, and happily let it gulp the cum back down. Balls and belly, each digest and absorb parts of the vorish feast each time it's freshly swallowed, and you can feel the shivers in your body growing greater as changes overtake you. The load you keep cumming over and over grows thicker, stickier... slimier. Soon you have to pull and pinch your load off, treating it more like a tar-thick gel than a fluid. It grows quite elastic as well, and you envision using it to your advantage in your hunting. To lasso prey with a well-aimed cum acting as grapnel to reel back, to silence stragglers with a sticky glob to the mouth, or to bind someone to a wall... yes, you see opportunities.
And with how your saliva seems to thicken as well, you imagine your tongue will do a much better job snagging struggling limbs than before.
You're almost done being such a thorough vorephilic glutton that you re-ate your entire cockvorish feast until it was gone when the bathroom gets a new visiter.
You're startled out wallowing in lewd decadence when the double doors are loudly slammed open, and you hear heavy footsteps thump across the floor's tiles.
"Shit gotta hurry," you hear a masculine voice with a hiss to it muttering, "bro'll be facing that sea slug champ in a bit, gotta see if.."
As luck would have it in an otherwise empty bathroom with at least a dozen stalls the newcomer's come straight to yours, and is jiggling the lock while leaning on the door.
Whoever they are, they're tall enough you can see the top of their bald head over the stall door, so at least a head taller than you... and if you simply reached forward and flicked a finger, they'd practically tumble into your lap, possibly face-first into your crotch.
Looking at the scaled feet and slowly slithering tail below the stall's dividers and equally curious about what snake tastes like as you are about how easily a snake could swallow you...  indicates the next chapter needs to be written. |
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