"Ooh, tough draw."
Nina startled at the voice over her shoulder and scrambled to cover her bingo card.
"Relax," Portia said, turning to lean against Nina's desk. "You're not going to win by keeping it a secret." She tossed her own card down beside Nina's.
Your dream noises continue as I envelope you, and I wonder what you're dreaming about. Is it still my mouth on you, beyond the veil of sleep? Are you thrusting into my cunt? Or maybe someone else. An old fling, or the cute girl at the office?
"Anything but penetration."
I did a double take. "Anything?"
"Anything," my wife confirmed. "Your dick doesn't go inside her pussy or her ass." She paused. "Or his, I guess. Otherwise, go wild."
Anticipation
Adrenaline courses through her veins, every cell primed and ready. She listens, every sound making her flinch.
She locks the doors, the click feels good. She's been waiting for the big blow for years. The echoes of long-past screams resonate endlessly in her bones.
On days like these, she yearns for someone to finally bring her silence. Powerful, forceful, unstoppable. Someone to end the waiting.
A presence that invades her relentlessly, spreading through her entire body until her last thought is smothered.
Someone who envelops her, twining around every bone. Shattering. All. Resistance!
Forcing the world into silence.
Voidkvlt Audio Erotica presents: The Monster Hunter Wants You For Bait (18+, this is audio porn)
Read the text: https://social.voidkvlt.eu/@void/statuses/01J94MD4A74NMXG0QFCK77H9AV
Feedback welcome, we're trying something new here.
#SpokenWord #AudioErotica #MicroFiction #MicroErotica #MonsterFucking
You have woken up here every day, for as long as you can remember. And every morning, you remove the relics of the night before from your body. Their exact nature changes. Usually, it's something normal - an anal plug, soiled underwear, a harness, a flanged dildo so large and firmly stuck inside that you struggle to break the vacuum seal it forms against your inner flesh.
But you have had to spend all morning pulling rose thorns from the skin of your lacerated back. You have withdrawn dozens of needles from your face and scalp. You have scrubbed at strange sigils inked on your skin that left behind a sense of burning cold and an unpleasant glow that didn't seem to actually exist but nonetheless sickened you.
As you carry out the mechanical processes of rectifying yourself, returning to a neutral state, it occurs to you that it has been a long time since you remember masturbating. Almost unbidden, your own hands traverse your body, exploring you as if they belonged to another. Your fingers tweak your pierced nipples to stand proud in their pain, and you inhale sharply, suddenly flooded with a sense-memory of being dragged, half-crawling, across the floor by chains secured to the D-rings on your nipples, face and genitals.
The orgasm surges through you, unbidden, like a burning rod of white-hot metal thrusting from the pit of your stomach though your chest, impaling you as you helplessly jerk and quiver, a marionette to a memory you cannot place.
You have woken up here every day, for as long as you can remember. Every morning, you remove the relics of the night before from your body. Chains like puppet strings weigh heavy on your piercings before you finally unclip them.
When I wake up and stretch, I can still feel the tingling residue of you coating me, a place where the air is thicker, just a little more resistant. It still fizzes faintly, dense like static.
Your residual energy clings thickest around my mouth and hands, and in viscous smears that run from my hips to my knees, a memento of last night, when you came over and over again, transfixed on my cock. Frantically, hungrily, trying to drag everything I had out of me until I had to make you stop.
I stretch once more, arching and extending every joint and pushing myself out past the edges of my body. I run my fingers through ghostly traces of you, shuddering, and contemplate using them to follow you back home.
Method:
You will kneel in the circle, sitting comfortably on your heels, your hands on your thighs. You will be unclothed. You will not move.
Results:
Black slime pours from a metal pipe in the ceiling. It splashes over your face as you turn your gaze upwards to see where the sticky, liquid sound is coming from.
Its temperature is neutral, perhaps a little warmer than yourself. It moves of its own volition to envelope you, sluicing over your bare skin, leaving you covered in a layer of itself, tight, as shiny and opaque as black latex.
It touches only you. Not a stray drop on the ground as it pulses and writhes across your body.
The slime spreads effortlessly between your fingers, behind your knees, and around your legs, sliding between your skin and the ground before setting tight around you.
It cascades down your buttocks and first trickles over, then wraps around your genitals, encasing you as it sends thick, wriggling tendrils of slime thrusting and forcing their way up inside your anus and cunt, sounding your cock.
You grow hard and wet beneath its touch, an autonomic response that it is entirely indifferent to as it seals and locks those characteristics in place. You will be hard and wet forever.
You are overwhelmed by the sensation of being completely and irrevocably filled, your internal muscles pulsing and your increasingly sealed body twitching as waves of orgasms crash over you. The slime continues, moving deeper inside you, leaving every part of you full in its wake.
As the rush of black liquid ooze from above comes to a halt, it finally covers your face. It pushes between your lips and up your nose, stinging momentarily as it pushes through your sinuses, until its numbing agent takes hold.
It pushes down your throat, into your stomach from above, to join and merge with the thrusting ooze that pushes through your intestines as it moves up from your anal canal.
Finally, it enters your lungs, forcing you to take a final involuntary breath. It feels like your alveoli are being heat shrinked in plastic.
Your eyes water for a moment, tears running down your black-slicked cheeks, before they are rimmed in black.
A thin film of the slime covers your eyelids. It could, but does not, prevent you from blinking. You will be permitted to see everything that happens next.
#MicroFiction #BodyHorror #lewd #MicroErotica #MonsterFucking
smutjumper
Miss Ganymede 
Void of Tranquillity π