Chapter 13: The Swallowing
Graves lay on her side, her hands pressed flat against the monstrous swell of her belly. The skin was taut, warm, sloshing with every shallow breath she managed. She could feel the weight of it pressing her into the floor, a small car's worth of cum sloshing inside her. Her legs were splayed, her thighs slick with the overflow that had spilled from her lips.
Across the room, Victor stood over her. His cock still loomed, five feet of pulsing, stitched flesh, the head glistening with leftover pre-cum. His beach-ball-sized balls churned between his legs, the wet, sloshing sound filling the dorm room like a heartbeat.
"You're still hard," she whispered.
He looked down at her, his dark eyes unreadable. "The energy is not spent. It builds again. It always builds."
She pushed herself up on her elbows. The belly shifted with the motion, a heavy, liquid drag that made her groan. Her tits pressed against the floor, nipples scraping the carpet.
"Then let it build somewhere else," she said. "You're too big for me to swallow anymore. I can't reach you."
Victor's head tilted. He studied her with that patient, calm gaze that made her cunt clench. "Your body is elastic. You made it so."
"Elastic isn't the same as big enough." She laughed, a breathless, wrecked sound. "You're five feet of cock. I'm a girl. There's a limit."
"Then change the limit."
The words hung in the air. She stared at him, her mind turning the thought over like a smooth stone. Change the limit. She had already stretched her throat, her stomach, her jaw. But what if she stretched everything?
She dragged herself across the floor, her belly leading the way. The grimoire lay open near the bed, pages glowing faintly violet. She traced her finger down the index, past the spells she had already used, past the growth spells and the elasticity charms.
"Gula," she muttered. "Oris. Ventris." Her finger stopped on a passage she had skimmed before and dismissed. "Corpus malleabilis."
She read the words aloud, her voice hoarse and wet. The magic threaded through her flesh like hot wires, loosening her spine, her ribs, her hips. She felt her body give, the structure of her softening into something pliant, something that could fold and stretch without breaking.
"What does it do?" Victor asked.
"I'm soft," she said. "All of me. Nothing to break."
She crawled back to him on her hands and knees, her belly dragging beneath her. She stopped at the base of his cock, her face level with the heavy sack of his balls. She could feel the heat of them, the churning pressure inside.
"Put me in," she said.
Victor frowned. "You cannot fit in my mouth. Your throat is too small."
"Not in my mouth." She pressed her palms against the side of his shaft, her body swaying with the slosh inside her. "In you. Like I'm a meal."
His stitching flared violet, a pulse of surprise that ran down his length. "Graves. You will not fit."
"Make me fit."
He considered her for a long moment. Then his hands closed around her waist, his stitched fingers spanning the pliant flesh of her hips. He lifted her, and she let herself go limp, her body folding like a cloth doll. Her belly swung heavy beneath her, sloshing with every movement.
He angled her toward the head of his cock. The crown was thick as her thigh, glistening with humid heat. She reached out and spread her legs around it, her cunt pressed against the ridge. The pressure of him was enormous, a wall of flesh pushing against her pliant body.
"I'll open you," Victor said. "Hold still."
His fingers dug into her waist. He pressed her down, and the head of his cock pushed against her folds. She felt herself give, her softened flesh parting around him. The stretch was obscene, a full-body intrusion that made her gasp. Her belly compressed against his shaft, the cum inside her squelching as he pushed deeper.
He worked her down inch by inch. Her body swallowed him like a sleeve, her skin sliding over his stitched length. The heat of him seared her from all sides. She felt his cock press into her chest, her ribs bending without breaking, her lungs compressing.
"Fuck," she breathed, the word muffled against his skin.
Her face pressed into the side of his shaft, her silver pigtails splaying across the gray hide. Her belly rested on his cock, a sloshing weight that grew tighter with every inch. She could feel his heartbeat through his flesh, the pulse of his stitching hot against her cheek.
He pushed her down the last of his length. The head of his cock pressed into her throat from the inside, but there was no room left in her. She felt herself settle against the base, her body squeezed against his balls, the churning wall of them pressing against her soft, pliant form.
"There," Victor said, his voice strained. "You fit."
Her muffled moan vibrated through him, a deep, resonant hum. She could feel his sack churning beneath her, the slosh of his cum pressing against her skin. She was inside him now, a living sheath. And he was still hard.
Victor's massive hand closed around his shaft, his stitched fingers wrapping the girth with ease. He began to pump, slow and deliberate, his cock sliding through the pliant tunnel of her body. The friction was wet and obscene, her swallowed sounds muffled against his skin with every stroke.