Paragraph Stitching

Posted by Ixtili 2 years ago

 

Warning: This contains, M/F, Oral Vore, Burping, Monster/F, Anthro/Human, Minotaur Pred, Human Prey, Modest Size Difference, Possessive and Obsessive behaviour, Nudity, Implied Digestion and Fatality that will become real when this draft is actually finished, Mutual Pining, Yandere elements in the Pred, fears of intimacy, minor mentions of tongue play. Villain Pred, Hero Prey. Also it's still not finished.

Rose feels naked before this enormous monster without the Amulet's strength. It reminds her how terrifying Auran truly is, for as familiar as he has become, that does not make him any less dangerous.

She searches for a way out, an opening or opportunity, she's become good at finding those, at stalling for time and using the Minotaur King's own obsessive nature against him. Yet today her instincts offer her no outs. Nothing to reach for or utilise. Some cynical part of her is not surprised by this, but she elects to ignore it. Cynism is a poison that will kill her faster than her opponent.

She manages to dodge him at first, but without the Amulet's power, dodging him is all she can safely do. He's four times her size and weight, which gives him a huge advantage. In a straightforward brawl his victory would be assured. Running away is also a terrible idea, at this distance his strides would outpace her initial sprint. So when he lunges forward, she heads towards rather than away. Unfortunately he does not move when and where she thinks he will. She makes a distressed noise as she finds herself encased in his grip.

She concerntrates determinedly on trying to wriggle from his grasp, as he brings her up towards his glowing red gaze. She glares at him, unwilling to show any weakness. He bares his gleaming fangs in a smug predatory grin, looking insufferably pleased with himself. "My my, what a delicious, helpless, meal I seem to have caught! Any last words before I devour you hero?"

"Yeah I hope you choke! Asshole!"

He laughs, his grip on her tightening to compensate for his trembling mirth, he brings her closer and whispers huskily against her ear.

"I'm going to miss that fighting spirit, once you've learnt your place." When he pulls back his stomach rumbles below and he pats it with his spare hand in emphasis. Glowing red eyes staring unblinkingly into her own. She tries to surpress the shiver that runs down her spine and not just because it's an expression of fear. Most days she can chalk her ill fated attraction up to her adversary being the closest thing to human she has to fixate on and the frequent physical contact exchanged from getting into fights with him. But today she's in such blatant danger she's left wondering if she isn't just crazy.

He begins to remove her garments delicately. "Hey! What the hell do you think your doing!?" She shouts in a totally normal and not at all flustered voice.

He looks at her with obvious amusement. "You can't expect me to enjoy your taste with all that fabric in the way now can you? If your worried about being cold hero, don't be. I'll not leave you exposed to the elements for long."

"That is not the point!" She growls.

"Oh? Isn't it" He tilts his head looking at her with keen interest.

She splutters and looks away muttering something unintelligible.

Taking mercy on her, he decides to rip this particular bandage off quickly, extending a sharp claw to her colourful Neathian garb and slicing it cleanly down the middle.

"What the hell man!? Do you know how hard it is to get comfortable clothes in a pre-industrial society?" She shouts indignantly. Recovering quickly from her earlier shame at the blatant damage to her clothes.

"You'll not be needing it where you're going" He reminds her paitiantly, quite used to her mercurial nature by this point in their adversarial relationship, he focuses on peeling her shredded garments off of her rather than the indignant glare she's levelling his way.

She looks remarkably like a female of his own species under her wrappings, sans fur of course, he vaguely recalls her being paler when she first arrived and it seems under her garments that she still is, he can see the outline of her most frequent style of dress traced into her skin, he idly wonders if her species makes use of this in any kind of decorative compacity. Not for the first time that he wishes he knew more about where she comes from.

Even as he thinks these things, his mouth salivates at the thought of her and his instincts tell him to dominate and devour.

The Minotaur's jaws engulf her bare form hungrily, careful to avoid nicking her with his sharp fangs, she taste's so good he almost swallows her on reflex. But he retains the prescence of mind necessary to control himself. If his vengeful frustration at her continued thwarting and foiling of his plans had dissipated over the years. Then in this moment it completely evaporates. He could feel no lingering malice towards her, not when the simplest taste of her made him feel like this.

The banter comes easily, she's used to talking when her life is in danger. Her life is in danger so much that it's hard for her to feel anything more than token levels of horror at the thought of being eaten. She would not say she is not scared, she is in fact, terrified, but there's only so long someone can live with fear before it becomes background noise.

She's lowered into his jaws. There's something degrading about the Minotaur King in particular taking her in as food. He's been a constant in her life since she arrived in this forsaken world. It's embarrassing to be so vulnerable in front of him. It crosses lines she was not even consciously aware she had, to be encased in his jaws. To be faced with the reality of losing everything, including herself. It feels like an inadvertent admission of defeat just to be in this position at all. His tongue explores places she never thought he'd touch. She likes it and she's ashamed of herself for wanting him to keep going.

The most degrading part of being eaten isn't the fear or horror, she's used to that, resigned to it even. It's the intimacy, the closeness, the multitude of unwritten rules Auran has just broken simply by putting her in his mouth. It's the contented rumble he makes around her, the shameless way he touches and tastes. The warmth of another living creature encasing her without restraint or fear. Yes, being food is horrifying but the pure honest intimacy of physical contact is worse.

Taking his time to savour the hero who has evaded him for so long. He runs his tongue along her, marvelling at the feel of her skin and the shape of her body. In the heat of combat such exploration would have seen him soundly punished for not taking her seriously. But with the Amulet out of the way he can savour these intimate details. She squirms in his jaws, palms pushing on the roof of his mouth, kicking feet seeking the momentum necessary to escape. Everytime she makes something akin to progress he simply slurps her back inside. He tastes between her legs delighting in the squeak of not quite fear it elicits from her. He feels as if he could do this forever, but he knows that with his foe's luck, every second he puts off ending things, is a second the universe takes as an invitation to deny him his prize. His stomach gives a fiercely impaitiant growl, as though protesting the thought of losing her, he gulps firmly, tracing her writhing whimpering form as she slides down his oesophagus.He hears her sweet voice call his name desperately as she descends. Today he's in no mood to be denied.

This is really happening, she's in his mouth, it is not the first time he's threatened to eat her but it is the first time it's gotten this far. She was fully expecting his teeth to sink into her vulnerable flesh by now and even when that wasn't immediately the case she still braced herself to meet an undignified end on the sharp teeth beyond his deceptively bovine exterior. After the Minotaur had his fill of...taunting her?...tasting her? Both? The King gives a firm swallow, different from the firm but insistent slurping he'd done to keep her from pulling herself free. His muscles and throat tug insistently at her lower body, Her eyes widen and her stomach drops as it dawns on her that he intends to swallow her whole. Her hopes for a quick death are dashed, she's heard horror stories from the Neathians about the prey Minotaur's deign to swallow alive. His tongue undulates and curls behind her cupping around her head and shoulders pushing and pulling her further in. As she's dragged down by constricting throat muscles she calls his name pleadingly, trying to entreat him with familiarity, to get her to see him as a worthy opponent,deserving of a quick merciful death. The rumbling sound of approval that reverberates around and through her. Tells her all she needs to know about how he sees her.

She drops like a stone into his expectant belly causing his guts to lurch and groan. The Minotaur King strides back towards his deserted throne and plonks down upon it, leaning back and letting out a masculine belch so deep it sounds like a monstrous roar. Gently Auran places an enormous clawed hand on his distended stomach. Feeling his adversaries movement both within his belly and against his palm, a contented sigh leaves his lips before he can catch it.

Rose could scarcely acknowledge her circumstances so absurd was it to think that she had been devoured by her nemesis. She felt the villain press against her confined form. A rumbling belch resounding all around her, disorienting her with both it's strength and the primal terror it threatened to unlock if she acknowledged what it said about her predicament. This could not be happening and yet it already was. Under such overwhelming circumstances all she can think to do is fight.

"Exquisite" he purrs approvingly as he feels her kick and flail panicked and frantic inside him. He sighs again, eyes half-lidded in savoured pleasure. Her muffled screaming as sweet to him as every other part of her. It was hard to believe this was the same untouchable woman that had alluded him for so long. "Being mine suits you" He noted teasingly, stroking his groaning stomach while his sweet doomed hero only fights harder in response. Auran felt another belch rise unbidden from his throat "Uurrrrp~"

He glanced down and caught her form pressing out of him frantically, seeking release from her prison that will never come. He runs his firm hands over her, squashing down on the evidence of her form, forcing her back into the anonymity of his rounded gut. He belches crassly before giving a wry chuckle. He fondly thinks about how much he's going to miss the game of cat and mouse between them but knows he would not give up this feeling of fulfilment and warmth for anything.

"Let me out you creep!" She yells, perhaps finally relising the futility of attempting to escape under her own power.

He considers just ignoring her, after all, as much as he loves their chats, this time there's truly nothing she can do or say to stop him. It seems particularly cruel to give his adversary false hope. But he enjoys their talks too much to resist, he wants to talk with her one last time. Still he resolves to ensure she is under no illusions about her fate.

"Mnnnn, no, I don't think I will, your mine now hero. Nothing more than food to be enjoyed and digested by a hungry predator." He kneaded his gurgling belly as he said it jostling her in playful emphasis.

"Tell me how does it feel hero? Mnnnph, to truly be mine? To know that there's nothing you can do to stop me from claiming your body and soul for myself?" He wants to hear her admit that she's his, that she knows it and accepts it but he knows her too well to think that's the response she'll actually give him.