The young woman had been moving slowly, but determinedly, through the deep quagmire for a few hours. Around her, in the ancient, forgotten feeling place, coils of vines dangled from every surface, trying to embrace her as she cut them away with her sword. Her long strands were tied back in a tight braid, as she often preferred, and her top was a simple long sleeved tunic of dark cloth.
Her prey this time was something she felt, compared to her last adventures, should give her no real trouble. The worse part was its location, but truth be told, the monster sounded like she could throttle it with her bare hands.
Who was ever scared of slugs?
Granted, it was a giant slug, but the girl still rolled her eyes at the concept. It wasn't simply the ease that drove her, for she truly liked a challenge, but she needed to succeed, for once. On top of that, the creature was worth much to the alchemists in her home city, so the plan seemed a win win.
A fat beetle smacked into her cheek, making her squeak as she slapped it away, watching it move like it could barely keep itself afloat on shimmering gossamer wings. “Well,” she spoke to herself in the heavy silence, “it'd be a win win if the stupid monster wasn't apparently in the middle of a swamp.”
Shuddering, Siena pushed on, listening to the slurping steps she made each time she gingerly set a heel down under the opaque surface of the water. It was nerve wracking, to imagine the sinkholes that might lay beneath her waiting feet. Places so forgotten, if she fell in one, she'd be a mere memory soon enough.
Luckily, as she rounded a huge stump, rotten and black as charcoal, the girl spotted a sparse embankment. Forcing herself not to speed up, for every time she had in the past, it seemed to throw her head first into trouble, she edged along until she could touch one of the gnarled roots protruding from the side of it. Stabbing her sword into the soft earth, she used her grip to hoist herself from the mire, groaning at the sickening way it seemed to want to hug her in place.
With a loud 'plop', she rolled onto the moss and fungus, and lay there staring up into the crawling, tangle of branches above. The canopy was brown and green, alive as the very air of this place seemed to be. It was unsettling, how everything she touched seemed to shift away or towards her, even the mud below her seemed to be rolling.
'Wait,' she blinked, mind racing and sitting up her elbows. 'It... it is moving!'
In a rocking wave of undulation, the blonde understood that the dampness under her palms was, indeed, alive. She stumbled to her feet, sword held high as the mound continued to move. At first, she thought it was growing, but it became clear it had been hidden beneath the black, glossy surface the whole time. Snake like, it reared, and the girl made a call to leap free of the mini quake.
Splashing up to her waist, she sputtered as the acrid stuff entered her mouth, eyes burning while she tried to get her bearings. Wiping mud from her green orbs, her feet found some semblance of stability in the squishy muck, and she looked upon what she had mistaken for the embankment.
It turned towards her, moss and vines decorating the top half of its body. Now, though, she could see the rest of the translucent, coffee colored flesh. The head twisted, slow as molasses, to stare down at her with four blinking, black orbs. It had no mouth she could discern, only a long row on either side of its face, down to mid body, that appeared to be feelers of various lengths.
This, without a doubt, was her giant slug.
Her surprise became elation, for it meant her hunt was over. The beast had no defenses she could see, no teeth or spikes or weapons.
With a deep inhale for dramatic effect, she gave a loud cry that sent birds fluttering in shock, and hoisted her blade high. The swamp made her movements slow, ugly, but it didn't matter; the slug was sitting there, almost oblivious to her intent.
With victory in her veins, the Hunter screamed once more, the satisfied sensation of her sword cutting into the body of the thing. It was like gelatin, the speed of her cut entering fast; too fast. Caught off guard, expecting it to have had more solid mass, she found her hand had sunk into it as well, following the path of her attack.
For a few seconds that seemed to hang, Siena stood there, blinking doubtfully at the lack of reaction from the slug. Now that she was so close, she saw it was easily seven feet tall, and wide as a tree. 'Does it not feel any pain?' She wondered, before gritting her teeth and deciding to strike again.
However, this time, her sword, and her fingers gripping it so tensely, seemed frozen in the thickness of the monster's middle. Flexing, she pulled again, wrenching with all her might to get free. The beat of her heart became a staccato, and the girl began to panic.
Amazingly, the wound she had created seemed to have closed up, holding her captive.
Finally, as if it had been waiting, the slug came to life.
The head lowered, seeming to peer into her face, unemotional and inhuman with its array of eyes and slick skin. The tendrils around its face twitched, as if considering her. When they stretched forward, reaching for her, she couldn't hold back a scream.
The monster didn't seem fazed.
Tentacles caressed her cheeks and forehead, almost tender as they curiously explored her, the texture like peeled grapes. She flinched away, trying to put as much space as she could between herself and the feelers, but there was no where to go. Her shoulder touched the body of the monster, and when she tried to twist away, she found she was stuck as if it were a wall of glue.
Gritting her teeth, she felt once more the oddly warm stroking of the tendrils on her skin, tickling along her neck and prodding her ear. It was disturbing, but otherwise, Siena began to feel she was in a strange predicament, not a deadly one.
'If I could just get my sword free...' She thought, peering over her stuck shoulder to the blade.
Before her wide eyes, the Hunter could see the weapon appeared to be disintegrating in her very hand. Particles floated up in the goo, vanishing until the hilt itself was all that remained. It, too, was being consumed, leaving her fingers holding nothing. The logic of this, that something could eat away at steel and leather so easily, made her skin turn cold as she imagined her flesh melting.
Gawking at her appendage in the slug mass, she didn't even care about the fact it was still prodding at her neck and jaw with its slick tentacles. After a few minutes, though wary, Siena didn't see or feel anything odd happening to her skin or bone. Confused, but relieved, she used her free palm to brush the seeking, empty face of the monster off of her. It was relentless, returning despite her increasingly rapid slaps. “Ugh, get off of me already!”
Not expecting a response, she wasn't shocked when it did nothing but stare at her. Beady eyes on stalks, like black pearls, unblinking as they stared into eternity.
Her lips twisted into a frown, and she brushed the sticky coating from her palm onto her shirt. Almost instantly, the material parted where she had touched, leaving a hole. An idea skipped along her brain, so that she turned with expectation to observe that where her shoulder was touching the body of the thing was now, indeed, bare to the air.
“Oh my gosh, really?” Stunned, she flickered a look from her ruined top, to the slug beast. “Are you honestly eating everything but me, is that it?”
The blank, mouthless face only stared, and she found herself missing the banter that often came with her escapades as of late.
Grunting with effort, she tried again to pull free, not ready to give up where brute force might serve. On and off, for half an hour, she pushed and pulled and shouted into the expanse of the swamp. By the end she was breathing heavy, sweat beading on her golden skin and her hair sticking to her in places. Adrenaline had long fled, and her muscles shook as if she'd been chopping wood for hours.
A flicker of defeat hit her, and she found herself slumping against the creature. Expecting to simply rest on something solid, she instead slid through into the gooey being. It seemed to have softened, so that she could move even the formerly trapped limb. It was a jarring sensation, like falling into tepid je
Gasping, terrified, she had once more a flash of panic that she might be dissolved and become a meal.
The sudden, tingling sensation that crawled over her form did nothing to assuage this fear.
Wide eyed, emerald pools gaped down into the translucent skin, which she was firmly entrenched in once more, like it had chosen to harden around her again. Stuck in place, her hands at her sides, her legs braced wide, she witness the slow but steady destruction of her clothing.
The first to go was the already partially hole covered tunic, the fabric evaporating into invisible particles as she gawked. With it went the tight chest gear she had worn to keep her breasts in place, as they were large enough that it could be distracting in a fight. In the odd texture of the slug, her pink nipples looked beige, like she was sitting in a cup of tea.
Next came her trousers, as well as her belt, which she lamented over the most; it had cost her a pretty penny.
Left in only her thick thigh high boots and a pair of thin ebony panties, she frowned deep as a gorge and groaned when they disappeared.
There, stuck in something sticky as honey, the Hunter was stark naked and exposed.
The only thing left to protect her dignity was a soft curl of golden hair over her pussy.
That, too, soon began to melt away, causing her to shout. “Oh, come on!”
It was strange, the tingling crawl that arched up her toes and over her nethers. It was then that she knew what the monster had done; all of her body hair was gone. A flicker of panic made her wonder if the blonde strands on her head might have been in danger, but that was pressed aside as she began to debate if she'd make it out of this encounter at all.
The slug hunched around, curled over its center to face her once more. Her fine brows furrowed, but she had no where to go as it drew close to her expression of terror. The little tendrils on the sides of its head rubbed over her cheeks, making her shiver.
However, something worse was to come.
Amazingly, she felt the viscous gel shifting, pushing her upwards, as if to expel her from the mass. Tan skin broke free of the surface, but her relief was short lived. Once her shoulders and rounded breasts were out, the motion stopped. With her hands still stuck down by her hips, she was more vulnerable than moments ago, something that seemed unthinkable.
The creature, for once, lost interest in poking at her round cheeks, and instead began a slow but sure path down to her soft mounds.
“Don't you dare!” Siena hissed, trying to rock herself free, but she had little range of motion, no real place to escape too. Undeterred by her complaints, the slug brought its wide, flat face down to her chest. The touch of those tentacles was soft, almost ginger, like it was trying to make sense of her body.
The appendages felt slippery, and they left trails of a clear slime as they traced over the shape of her breasts. Without much waiting, it extended the feelers, and she experienced the odd sensation of something so very gooey and warm caressing over her nipples.
The thick gel it secreted made her tingle, and without any say in the matter, her little nubs swelled and became firm under the touch of the monster. Slow as its namesake, the slug kept at this, as if it had found the most interesting mystery in the swamp, and the only way to solve it was to stroke its tendrils over her sensitive areas again and again.
The blonde woman moaned, struggling less and less as the sensation began to rush over her. It was too weird, to distressing, for her to feel this way at the hands of a giant slug. 'Hands, or tentacles?' She wondered absently.
Soon, far too soon, the girl was arching into the touch, the alien experience exciting and nerve wracking at the same time. All the little branches running over her flesh were unlike anything she had ever experienced, and her senses were flooding with a heart beating rush of arousal.
'Seriously, what's wrong with me?' She thought in a flicker of clarity. Green eyes flashed, looking over the shiny head of her assaulter, trying to decide what she could possibly do. None of her plans seemed to be logical, and her thoughts were getting foggy as the beast never seemed to grow tired of teasing her nipples.
As if on cue, when her groans were coming more often, more audible under her breath, the girl felt herself shifting again. Once more the creature seemed to lift her in a way she couldn't understand, pushing her from its body. For a moment, her hands were free, but her elation didn't remain.
The stubs of tendrils extended from the emotionless head of the slug, growing longer and longer until they were like ropes, binding her arms and keeping them at her sides. The creature lifted her until only her feet remained in the goo, locked in place in the spaced stance she had adopted originally. The air of the swamp danced over her body, which felt sticky and sapped of energy. Siena wasn't sure if it was from her struggles, or some chemical in the monster's acid like secretions.
Her bare pussy, vulnerable to the world and especially to the beast, still tingled from its brand new bareness. Glancing down, she could see the way her skin glistened, like she's been waxed completely. It made her blush, and she had a fleeting thought, both strangely exciting and also humiliating, that her hair might not grow back.
The giant slug observed her, and she it, her chest rising in a vibration of anxiety.
The hair on the back of her neck, the only other hair that seemed to have survived, being above her shoulders, prickled when new tentacles grew from its head. They were similar to the others, but she could see the tips seemed different somehow. Her knowledge grew when they drifted back to her breasts, and opened like flowers onto her aching nipples.
As they suckled, she cried out in her weakening state of passion.
The prey she had hunted was meticulous, coiling more vines down to taste at her thighs. The weird, mouth like ends felt like light suction cups, like nimble lips by an experienced lover. Soft as rain, they traced a pattern over her legs, across her hips and belly. The treasure they sought was lower, though, and soon she was trembling when she was all too aware of their presence near her lower lips.
Soft, slick, the tentacles brushed on her inner thighs,before the first one rolled along the length of her soaked slit. The simultaneous tugging on her chest seemed to increase at this, like the monster was getting excited. As if finding her essence was its goal all along.
“Please...” She gasped, her voice husky and for no ears but her own. “Don't touch there, please...”
Uncaring, or perhaps just motivated by carnal need beyond emotion, the creature used its tendrils to gently spread her pinkness. The intimate motion made the girl squeal, and more so when more tips began to trail along the inner slick sides of her vulva. The suction was still there, like several small mouths tasting her.
It was erotic, and it was driving her mad.
Though she couldn't get her legs free, and her arms were bound tight, she realized she had been absently grinding her hips into the air. 'When did I start doing that?' She wondered, ashamed at her wanton behavior.
Her attempt to halt, to reassess and pull herself back from the haze of lust, failed completely when the slug drifted a tentacle to her swollen clit. It pressed, circled, played her like an instrument, and as she keened in pleasure, it wrapped itself around her button the way the ones on her nipples were doing, imitating them in a perfect rhythm.
In seconds, the boiling heat in her belly twitched, and the Hunter exploded, cumming hard and violently, the sensations wild and raw. Her ears were deaf to her panting whimpers, and the tendrils seemed to greedily suck up her juice. The amount of slickness, from her nectar and the beast's secretions, was immense.
She felt it sliding down her thighs, and became aware that the monster wasn't slowing down. The rush of blood to her clit was making her sensitive beyond comfort, and she began to whine and beg the slug to stop; it had no compassion for her wants.
Her brain was firing warning signals, and she was afraid she might go mad from the ecstasy. Suddenly, a new appendage appeared, thicker than the others. Abruptly, before she could even voice an argument, it pushed easily, roughly, into her wet walls.
Like fireworks, sparks of color shot into her mind, behind her eyes, and she gaped in a long moan, shivering, squeezing as she felt another orgasm ripple through her. Her muscles quivered over the length of slimy rope, firm yet pliant, as she was held open by the smaller ones that still pulsed on every part of her slit.
In, out, the stroking rod drove into her with wild abandon, even though the slug's face still showed nothing behind those empty onyx eyes.
Siena was screaming, squealing, a twisting being of passion and desire. Each time she thought it was too much, that things had gone too far, the creature proved her wrong. It played with her rear entrance, slim, gooey stalks slipping inside and seeming to vibrate gently.
She lost track of how many times she had cum.
Eventually, her mind blanking in and out of overwhelmed senses, she noticed the slug seemed to be slowing down. The pumping was less fierce, though the tentacle inside of her pussy seemed to be flexing, growing. In a sobering moment, she feared it would split her in two.
Instead, the strong burst of hot liquid inside announced the beast's own climax. Pump after pump, she was stunned and wondered if it would ever end. Glancing down, her dazed eyes saw the thick cream pouring from around the tendrils inside of her. It was like honey, and she felt filled to the brim. Afraid she might pass out, the girl held on to her awareness, trying to focus on the eyes of the giant slug, the only real thing nearby that wasn't gooey or caramel in color.
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