Chapter 12: The Devouring
The warmth of Victor's cock pressed against her cheek like a furnace. Five feet of stitched, pulsing flesh, so thick she could barely wrap both arms around it. Graves pressed her body flat against the shaft, her silver pigtails splaying across the gray hide. The arcane stitching glowed violet under her palms, humming with contained energy.
She kissed the skin. Tasted ozone and something sweet, like honey left too long in the sun. Her tits flattened against the side of his cock, nipples scraping against the rough texture. Her belly, still sloshing with his earlier loads, rested against the base like a heavy, warm anchor.
"You're so fucking big," she breathed into the shaft.
Victor's balls churned behind her. The sound was wet and deep, like water sloshing inside leather sacks the size of beach balls. She felt the vibration through the floor. The whole room trembled with it.
"The energy builds," Victor said, his voice low and steady. "It needs a release point."
She looked up the impossible length of his cock, her eyes traveling the ridged surface to the glistening head. It was so far away. Victor had tipped off the bed, his massive form stretched across her dorm room floor. She'd never seen anything like it. She had made him this way. She had asked for it.
"So give it to me." She wrapped her fingers around the shaft, but her hand couldn't even close. "I want it in my mouth."
Victor's stitching flared brighter. A pulse of violet light ran from his chest down to his cock, and the head swelled slightly.
"You cannot reach," he said simply.
Graves glared at him. She hated the calm in his voice, the way he stated facts like a ledger. Her tongue flicked out to taste the skin again, tracing a stitched seam from base to middle. The flesh twitched under her.
"Then I'll make myself able." She pushed herself up, her belly dragging across the floor. The weight of his cum sloshed inside her, a liquid ballast that made every movement sluggish. "I have the grimoire."
She crawled to the corner of the room where the book lay open. The pages glowed faintly, the spell she'd used for her womb still visible. Her finger traced the words, her lips moving silently.
"Elasticia gulae," she whispered. "Elasticia oris."
The magic took hold. Her jaw loosened, her throat opened. She could feel the spell threading through her flesh, making it pliable, stretchable. She swallowed and felt the space in her expand. It was like a door swinging open inside her body.
She crawled back to him, her movements heavy and wet. Her belly caught on everything, forcing her to lift it with both arms. The sloshing sound filled the room.
"How am I supposed to reach you now?" She asked the question, positioning herself at the base of his cock. The head was still four feet above her.
Victor looked down at her. His dark eyes held her gaze for a long moment. Then he moved, shifting his mass until his cock angled down toward her face.
"Take what you can reach," he said. "Spend the rest."
Fuck that. She wasn't spending anything.
Graves pressed her lips to the base of his shaft. The skin was hot and dry, tracing the seam of a stitch. She kissed along it, her tongue dragging upward. She tasted the salt of him, the sharp ozone tang. She wanted her mouth around the head. She wanted to swallow him whole.
Her jaw stretched, the spell making it elastic. She took him in, inch by inch, her lips sliding over the impossibly thick flesh. The stretch burned in a good way, a deep ache that made her pussy clench. She worked her way down, swallowing, her throat opening wider.
She swallowed him deeper still. Her throat opened like a velvet sleeve, the spell singing through her flesh as she took another foot of him. The head of his cock was still out of reach, bobbing above her like a prize she couldn't grasp. But the shaft filled her mouth, stretched her jaw, pressed against the back of her throat with a pressure that made her eyes water.
Victor's stitching flared violet. The light pulsed along his shaft, warm against her tongue. His balls churned harder, the wet sloshing sound bouncing off the dorm room walls.
"Graves," he said, his voice strained. "You are taking too much."
She moaned around him. The vibration ran through his cock, and he shuddered, his massive frame trembling. She felt his energy surge, building like a dam about to break.
She didn't care. She wanted all of him. She shoved her face deeper, her nose flattening against the gray hide, her silver pigtails tangled in her armpits. She was four feet in now, her throat a living tunnel that stretched and stretched.
The head finally touched her lips.
She opened wider. The ridge of his cock crown pressed against her mouth, thick as her fist. She swallowed, and the head slid past her lips, filling her mouth completely. Her cheeks bulged obscenely, the skin tight enough to hurt.
Below her belly sloshed. The weight of his earlier loads pressed against her ribs, making it hard to breathe. She didn't care. She worked her throat, pulling him deeper, until her lips met the base of his shaft. Her face was pressed flat against his pelvis, the coarse stitching scraping her cheek.
"Fuck," she gasped. The word vibrated through him. "Give it to me."
Victor's hands found her head. His grip was gentle but firm, holding her in place. His balls swelled, the stitching on them glowing so bright it cast shadows on the wall. The churning grew louder, more violent.
"Release," he growled.
Then the flood came.
His cock swelled inside her throat, the head expanding until it pressed against her esophagus from within. Her jaw creaked. And then the first surge hit her like a freight train.
Cum flooded her throat, thick and hot, slamming down her esophagus in a torrent. She swallowed, but there was too much. It backed up, filling her mouth, spilling from the corners of her lips. But the spell held her open, kept her swallowing, kept her taking.
Her belly began to swell.
The weight pushed her off balance, her arms shaking as she tried to keep herself propped against his pelvis. Second surge. Third. Each wave brought more of him, his cock pulsing like a heartbeat against her tongue. Her belly swelled past her breasts, then past her chin. The cum sloshed inside her, warm and heavy.
"More," she managed around him.
Victor's hands tightened in her hair. His body arched, the stitching blazing violet. He came harder. The surge was enormous, ripping through his cock and pouring into her in a scalding gush.
Her belly expanded so fast she felt the skin stretch. The weight pressed her down, forcing her face deeper against his shaft. She was full. So full. The cum pushed against her ribs, stole her breath. But she was still swallowing.
The final surge came, and it was a deluge. Her belly ballooned outward, pushing against the floor, lifting her hips off the ground. She felt the skin groaning, the press of impossible weight. A small car, she thought. That's what it feels like.
Victor's cock shrank as he pulled out, the head slipping from her lips with a wet pop. Cum spilled from her mouth, pooled on her chest. She collapsed onto her side, her belly so enormous she couldn't lift her head.
She lay there, panting, her hands pressed flat against the sloshing mound. This was more than she'd ever taken. More than she thought possible.
"Fuck," she whispered. "You're still hard."