pfffrrrt
A low, resonant fart sounded from beneath Little Mouse’s feet.
Her small breasts bounced freely, nipples hardened from the chill and excitement, her slit slick with a mix of her arousal.
Her eyes, glazed and wide with unending joy, darted about in silent wonder, her lips parted only to emit soft, involuntary sounds.
She was in no ordinary plane.
She was in the living, breathing extension of her Goddess Anya, a playground of Anya’s flesh and fluids where the girl wandered, naked and unashamed,
Her toes wiggled, sinking into the warm softness of the enormous, flesh that served as her perch.
A squishy, jiggling tapestry that stretched as far as the eye could see, forming hills and valleys of plump, quivering Anya-ass.
Each pair of buttock was massive, perfectly rounded and dimpled, their cheeks clenching and releasing rhythmically like breathing entities, the anuses at their centers…winking, puckered openings rimmed with soft, sensitive skin…erupting in spontaneous bursts of gas that filled the air with warm, pungent fog.
Pffffrrrrt.
The girl bounced from one pair of buttocks to another with gleeful abandon, her feet sinking into the soft, warm clefts between the cheeks with each landing propelling her upward in a joyful leap, her body weightless and free.
As she landed on a particularly large pair, the buttocks clenched under her, the anus flaring open with a forceful fart blasting a cloud of warm gas directly into her face.
She leaned into it, her eyes fluttering shut and inhaled deeply, drawing the essence directly into her lungs, making her veins thrum with pure happiness. Her body trembled with delight, a silly, blissful smile stretching across her face as she hopped again, the impact causing another set of cheeks to jiggle violently, releasing a series of rapid fart sounds that enveloped her in more of the intoxicating vapor of her goddess.
Each inhalation amplified her high. Her eyes rolled back, her pupils dilated as the overwhelming pheromones sent her into a trance-like state turning her world into a kaleidoscope of colors and sensations. She bounced higher, twisting mid-air with unrestrained glee, never wanting to escape this fleshy paradise.
Above her, the sky was a forever expanse of floating, magnificent Anya-breasts.
They were heavy, lactating, and impossibly perky. The nipple of a massive, pale orb directly above her twitched. A stream of warm, sweet milk shot out, splashing against her body.
The girl tilted her head back, mouth wide open, catching the stream on her tongue. It was rich and creamy, tasting of vanilla. It pooled in her mouth, and she swallowed greedily, choking as the flow intensified, but she refused to close her lips.
More breasts began to leak, then spray. The milk rained down, soaking her hair, plastering it to her neck and shoulders. It ran in rivulets between her breasts, over her stomach, tracing paths through the thatch of curls at her apex and down her thighs. She ran her hands over her slick body, her own touch amplified a thousandfold by the intoxicants in the air and on her skin.
One of the pair of breasts descended low enough to brush against her face, and she turned to suckle from a nipple, drawing out more milk meanwhile the ground continued rumbling beneath her, a massive, collective release of gas from hundreds of anuses at once, shaking the world and bathing her in a wave of heat.
To her far left stood a grove of Anya-Thigh Trees.
They were colossal, pillars of toned, powerful feminine muscle, rising from the ground and curving together to form a dense canopy of flesh.
The girl stumbled towards them, drawn by the sheer, overwhelming presence of them.
Surrounding the thigh-trees were scattered flowers, but their centers were pulsating, wet Anya-slits. They bloomed and closed rhythmically, some leaking clear fluids that pooled on the surface of the farting ground.
The girl stared at one, entranced by the way the inner folds glistened and quivered. It looked like a mouth gasping for air. She fell to her knees, crawling toward it, her ass high in the air as the buttocks beneath her released long, bubbling farts that warmed her dangling cunt.
The flower pulsed gently emitting a scent that made her head spin anew.
She inhaled.
creak!
It surged in size.
The stem thickened, stretching outward as the bloom elongated, towering over her prone form. The scent grew overpowering, drowning out the smell of the gas and milk. It seeped into the girl’s pores and stirred her to a groggy semi-consciousness.
The flower bent at the stem lowering its massive, drooping head until the center of the bloom hovered directly above her. The folds began to peel back. They split open revealing the hole within.
With a sudden lunge, the flower descended, engulfing the girl’s head whole.
Earlier…
The kings chambers.
The kings corpse covered in a linen sheet and moved to the other side of the bed.
Anya dragging the unconscious queen toward the massive bed.
“Let me help,” a small, pained voice insisted from beside her.
Anya glanced at Little Mouse.
The girl looked impossibly fragile, her broken arm cradled awkwardly against her chest.
“No, darling,” Anya said, her voice a low. “You have a broken limb. Just stay still.”
“I can use my other hand!”.
"Do not be stupid," Anya growled, turning her attention back to the Queen.
Little Mouse ignored her. She lunged forward, She reached out with her good hand, fingers trembling.
tchk!
A white-hot lance of agony shot up from her shattered arm, exploding behind her eyes. It wasn’t a throb or an ache. It tore a scream from her throat. Her vision swam, blurring into a swirl before dissolving into black spots. Her knees buckled, and she folded in on herself, crouching to the fur floor with a whimper that was all animal pain.
Queen Elara’s body slumped to the floor. But not hard.
Anya moved, dropping to her knees beside the girl. She reached for her, hands hovering, afraid to touch the wrong place.
The girl’s eyes rolled back, her body went limp, and she collapsed onto Anya.
slam!
The chamber door burst open.
A young man stood framed in the doorway, chest heaving as if he’d been sprinting. He was lean, dressed in the simple, coarse linen of a palace slave.
In his inexperienced grip, he clutched a long sword that seemed too heavy for him,
His gaze landed first on the queen, sprawled inelegantly on the floor. A strangled sound escaped him. Then it snapped to Anya, kneeling over the unconscious girl, her hands on her body. His expression contorted, twisting from panic into a mask of furious, misguided understanding.
“You!” he snarled. He took a step into the room, the sword swinging up to point shakily in her direction. “ What is this? What have you done to the Queen?”
Anya scrambled back on her heels, dragging Little Mouse’s limp form with her, putting precious inches between them and the blade.
“Stay calm,” she said, forcing her voice to be calm. “She is not dead.”
The young slave’s eyes darted between the two unconscious women… the queen on the floor, the girl in Anya’s arms. His jaw worked.
“Lies,” he spat.. “I have heard of your kind. Who poisons others. Who fucks them while they sleep.”
He took another step, and the sword swung in a wide, threatening arc through the air between them. The whoosh of it was meant to frighten, and it did. Anya flinched, tightening her hold on the girl.
His attention returned to the queen. With a sudden lunge, he was beside Elara’s body. He grabbed her by the waist and thighs quickly and hauled her up.
“Wait! Stop!” Anya cried, starting to push herself up. “Why are you taking her? Where are you taking her!”
“Away from you, snake,” he hissed. He swung the sword again by moving his body. “You stay still or I will kill you and… and… and fuck you. You hear me. I will fuck your corpse and cum into it.”
He didn’t wait for a reply. He backed out into the corridor, the sword still held out before him like a talisman against her evil. The heavy door swung shut with a definitive, thunderous boom.
Shouts.
The clank of armor and hurried footsteps.
"It's the slave… he has the queen!" a guard's voice boomed, "Don't let him slip away with her!"
Anya eased Little Mouse against the wall and pushed herself fully to her feet her eyes darting around the room for anything to fortify the door. Spotting a massive oak table nearby, she lunged for it, grabbing the edge with both hands and hauling it toward the door with a strained grunt. She then fumbled for the iron bar mounted beside the door, slamming it into place with a resounding clank, securing the bolt across the frame to hold it shut.
BOOM!
"Your Grace, are you alright in there?" a guard shouted from beyond, his voice muffled but insistent, edged with the concern of duty rather than genuine worry.
Inside the flower-cunt, the girl’s senses had been bombarded by the sticky, viscous environment that clung to her.
The walls were soft, undulating flesh, ribbed and ridged with countless folds that squeezed and massaged her head from all sides and coated in a thick, slippery lubricant thingy.
Suck!
The flower started dragging her torso upward. Her shoulders slipped past the tight entrance. Her breasts were swallowed, the sensitive nipples dragging against the ribbed texture of the floral tunnel. The sensation was overwhelming… a tight, hot embrace that squeezed her from all sides.
Her hips were next to be consumed. The flower seemed to stretch around the width of her pelvis, the muscles within the walls rippling to accommodate her before snapping tight again. Her legs kicked in the open air for a brief second, a final connection to the outside ‘world’, before the flower claimed them too.
The girl pushed forward on her hands and knees, the narrow pink-glowing tunnel forcing her into a crawl.
Fully inside were crimson folds lined with tiny, sensitive bumps that pulsed rhythmically, contracting around her limbs, the heat radiating from them intense and inescapable, turning her skin flushed and slicker by the second.
As she ventured deeper, her hands brushed against the textured ceiling of the tunnel, feeling the rougher, corrugated ridges that gripped her palms, each movement eliciting soft sounds from the depths around her, as if the flower itself were responding with its own voice of pleasure.
The walls secreted more fluid, a steady flow of clear, sticky essence that coated her face and hair, making her taste the salty-sweet tang on her lips as she ‘accidentally’ licked them. Her body slid further in with every wriggle, the pressure building around her hips and thighs.
Her emotions swirled in a storm of panic and perverse curiosity. Her heart raced with fear, yet the sensual massage against her most sensitive areas… her nipples scraping along the folds, her cunt brushing against protruding ridges…ignited sparks of arousal she couldn't deny.
Deeper still, she encountered a firm, doughnut-shaped barrier at the tunnel's end, its surface slick, blocking her path.
She reached out, her fingers probing the opening, feeling the tiny, puckered entrance that yielded slightly under pressure.
The walls suddenly tightened. The pink glow deepened to a throbbing crimson. The slime coating her skin grew hotter, thinning into a slick, frictionless lubricant that allowed the flower to manipulate her body effortlessly.
The fluids grew thinner as the walls contracted harder. The tight doughnut-hole opened up and she was propelled forward.
She was ejected into a roaring waterfall of female-release, a translucent, sticky fluid that splashed down into a churning river below.
She tumbled into the river, fully submerged in the thick, gooey stream.
The fluid felt alive, microscopic vibrations tingling against her sensitive nipples. The volume of it was overwhelming. It filled her ears, coated her throat, and seeped between her thighs. A wave crashed over her face, filling her mouth.
She swallowed.
Swoosh!
Above her, the tit-clouds parted violently.
A colossal naked Anya-giant rose, towering miles high, with voluptuous curves, her skin flawless and glowing. Her lower body was fully visible, a landscape of immense thighs and a massive, glistening slit at her crotch leaking the never ending 'waterfall ' , while her upper body vanished into the tit-clouds.
Gasp.
Without warning, the giant's enormous hand descended from the tit-clouds, fingers glistening with the same slickness that covered the girl snatching her from the river hoisting her dripping, sticky body high into the air.
The girl let out a whimper as she was lifted, cradled in a palm of cool, smooth flesh. Her eyes filled with panic, excitement and pure happiness. She stared hungrily at the giantess giant slit its swollen lips parted and dripping the 'waterfall' with anticipation.
She was brought up, up, toward the blurry, face. Though she was sad and disappointed that she did not get to feel and suckle on the nipples of its massive tits.
But the disappointment faded when the giantess pressed her against her massive, blurry lips, her mouth enveloping the entirety of the girls body the lips parting slightly to draw her in, covering her from head to toe in a sloppy, wet embrace. The giant's tongue lapped at her skin, tasting every inch greedily, smearing saliva over her already messy form creating a new layer of gooey chaos. She grunted and whimpered as the tongue flicked across her pussy, sending jolts of ecstasy through her core, her tears mixing with the saliva on her face.
Suddenly the giantess’s hand tilted. She tumbled backward and fell.
She didn't fall back toward the distant cum-river or the ass-ground. She fell toward the titans cunt-hair. Spread out like a dark, tangled jungle.
Anya sat on the floor, her back pressed firmly against the bed. Little Mouse was a dead weight in her arms, her head lolling back against Anya’s shoulder.
Anya stared down at the girl’s arm, her eyes teary. The limb was a ruin. The swelling had already progressed past simple puffiness to a hard, distended tension that stretched the skin thin and shiny.
She had thought of wrapping the arm with some cloth, but the girl winced when she touched it even slightly.
The men outside had stopped banging on the chamber door moments ago, probably leaving for a heavy object to bang again and try to break it.
She could feel the heat radiating from the girl even without touching her. She reached over with her free hand, smoothing down the girls hair, her fingers lingering on the soft nape of her neck.
It was not possible to leave the room. All she could do was wait for their deaths or worse when the guards finnaly barged in.
Little mouse crashed into the thicket.
The impact was jarring, though the tangled mass of hair broke her fall. She landed on her back amidst a chaotic web of dark strands.
The girl tried to sit up, but the ‘forest’ moved with her. As she pulled her left leg free, three more strands seemed to snake around her right thigh, tightening their grip.
The girl suddenly jerked. It wasn't a waking movement, but a visceral spasm. Her chest heaved, her ribs expanding violently as she sucked in a ragged, gasping breath. Her eyes fluttered beneath the lids, the sclera showing in thin, crescent slits.
Anya shifted her grip, careful not to jostle the injured arm, pulling the girl tighter against her chest.
But the reassurance didn't take hold. Little Mouse’s breathing fastened. Her heart hammered against Anya , a frantic drumbeat that Anya could feel vibrating.
The girl’s mouth was the first to be breached. A cluster of thick, coarse hairs shot forward, forcing their way past her lips and teeth filling her oral cavity completely, the strands slithering down her throat. They tasted musky and salty, coated in the same sticky fluids from the river, making her choke and sputter as they pulsed deeper, tickling her tonsils and stretching her jaw wide.
She gurgled as the hairs crammed further, probing her esophagus without relent, forcing her to swallow around them involuntarily.
Simultaneously, more hairs targeted lower with unstopping aggression. From below, a bundle of strands plunged into her slit ramming into her folds and burrowing deep into her cunt, stretching her inner walls with their thickness.
Her body arched as the hairs twisted inside, rubbing against her, the relentless motion drawing out grunts of conflicted ecstasy.
Her ass was next, a group of hairs forcing their way into her tight anus without hesitation stretching the ring of muscle wide and delving into her rectum, the coarse texture scraping and filling her completely, creating a full, overwhelming pressure that made her eyes water.
The girl breathing accelerated.
Anya panicked.
The girls eyes flew open, wide and unseeing, pupils dilated. She stared past Anya’s face, into some private abyss. Her good hand, previously limp, now clawed weakly at Anya’s clothing, fingers twisting the fabric.
The gasps grew louder, sharper, each one tearing at the quiet of the room.
Not content with just the obvious entries, the hairs assaulted the girl’s other orifices with the same feverish speed.
Strands wormed into her nostrils, snaking up her nasal passages, making her face contort in discomfort as they probed toward her sinuses. She whimpered, tears streaming down her cheeks from the bizarre violation.
Meanwhile, more hairs slithered into her ears, blocking out the world with their fuzzy invasion.
The girl’s body convulsed from the all-over assault, her skin prickling with a mix of pain and panic.
Anya acted on instinct, on a desperate, rising need to connect, to pull the girl back from the edge not with words, but with feeling.
She shifted her hold and cupped Little Mouse’s face, forcing the girl’s wild blind-gaze to meet her own.
She leaned in. Her lips found Little mouse’s. She swallowed the girl’s next gasping breath, taking it into herself.
Breathe with me.
For a second, Little Mouse body resisted. But then
A shudder ran through her. The clawing hand stopped twisting fabric. The ragged breaths slowed.
The girl began to kiss back softly.