Chapter 15: The Internal Draught
The world was wet, warm, and endless. Graves floated in the churn of Victor's balls, her body still stretched thin as a living sheath around his cock, her limbs folded and compressed against the slick inner wall. The cum around her moved in slow, heavy currents, thick as honey, pulsing with the beat of his stitching.
She pressed her palms flat against the skin. It gave under her touch, soft and taut at once, and she felt the faint vibration of Victor's voice through it, though she could not make out the words.
Her mouth watered. She was surrounded by it, drowning in it, and yet she had never been so aware of the sheer volume waiting to be swallowed. Her throat worked on instinct. The cum pressed in from every side, and her body, made pliable by her spell, accepted it without resistance.
She turned herself, feeling her silver pigtails drag through the slick, and found a spot where the inner wall of his sac felt thinner, more yielding. She pressed her lips against it. The skin there was hot, stretched tight over the mass of her own body. She opened her mouth wide and bit down gently, just enough to part the membrane.
The cum flooded in. Hot, thick, and endless, it poured down her throat in a torrent. She gulped, her elastic throat working in long, desperate swallows, and the liquid slammed into her stomach. The pressure built there, a familiar, beloved weight. Her belly swelled outward, pressing against the skin of the sack, and with each gulp she felt the outline of herself begin to push against Victor's taut flesh.
She could not speak. She could only drink. And she did not want to stop.
Through the membrane, she heard Victor's low, rumbling breath. His hand came down and cupped the sack, fingertips tracing the shape her belly made beneath the skin. She felt the pressure of his fingers through the cum, gentle and reverent, and she pushed her hips into it, a muffled moan vibrating up through his shaft.
She was becoming his silhouette. Her head pushed against the inner wall, the curve of her skull shaping the skin from within. Her tits, full and heavy, pressed outward too, twin bulges forming beneath the surface. And her stomach, swollen with the cum she kept drinking, distended the skin like a growing fruit.
The gulping sounds echoed wet and loud in the tight space. She swallowed and swallowed, her throat working without pause, and her belly grew until it pressed against the front of the sack, pushing the skin outward with a visible, obscene bulge.
Victor shifted above her. His voice came through, muffled and awed.
"Graves." His hand moved over the bulge her head made, tracing the shape of her jaw. "I can feel you. Every part of you."
She could not answer. Her mouth was busy glued to the inner wall, drinking straight from the source. But she pressed harder into his touch, a silent demand to keep going, to take more.