THE WAY OF THE WILDS
 
by Bitter
 
 
The bright sunlight of an enchanted noon shone down upon the Mystic Wilds, the land beyond reality where all creatures of magic live. A colossal forest, finite perhaps but large beyond the comprehension of mortals, covered the earth for intractable miles in all directions. In this forest, huge yet but a fraction of the Wilds, there lived a race of creatures known as the Lesser Fey. The Lesser Fey, despite their name, were among the highest of creatures in the Wilds. Recognizably human-like in form, they could grasp the primal energies of that place and turn it to their will, a power that, in the Wilds, was akin to the ability to reach down into the elements and willfully arrange their chemistry. But great though this power was, there were many perils to such a Fey, not the least of which was their closest kin, the Greater Fey. Though nearly indistinguishable in physical appearance, being slightly taller than the Lesser Fey and possessing slightly longer elven ears than those the Lessers had, physical traits were largely meaningless in the Wilds. What mattered was energy, magic. This the Greater Fey had in much greater quantities than the Lesser Fey, simple as that. All creatures must eat, and the Fey of both varieties were no exception. The Lesser Fey sustained themselves through smaller creatures and the fruits of the trees; the Greater Fey sustained themselves through Lesser Fey.
 
And so it was that a Lesser Fey, Poyin by name, was making his way through the forest. Stillness was practically unheard of in the forest; those who rested in the open were quickly devoured. The creatures of the Wilds spent much of their time seeking fresh energy, from whatever source could be made to give it up. Having recently found a nest of fairies, Poyin had made that fact abundantly clear: a few gentle gurgles emanated from his bare belly as the last several fairies dissolved inside him, and a skip in his step caused his bright blue pants to flutter in the wind. The extravagant sleeves of his white open-chested jacket flapped in counterpoint, and for good measure his streaming neon pink hair waved along with them. His colors were hardly good forest camouflage, but appearances were as superficial as anything mortal there. A layer of magic kept him concealed from the senses of those around him, or so he thought.
 
In truth, a Greater Fey was near at hand, walking in the same direction as Poyin a ways off to the side. He wore clothing in the same style as Poyin's; voluminous and loose, in a garish combination of yellow and red. His hair met his clothing somewhere between the two hues, the orange sashays falling to somewhere at his knees. His name was Jacen, and colors aside it would difficult to tell him from Poyin without careful examination. Said examination would reveal that he was slightly taller, his eyes more angular, his gait just slightly more determined. He was every bit a Greater Fey, a fact he intended to prove to Poyin now. He allowed his aura to weaken-- the very same kind of aura that Poyin used, but strong enough to fool the Lesser Fey's.
 
Poyin admirably made no sign of noticing that he was being watched. He avoided honesty, the most disastrous response, by remaining calm; one who acts as though failing to notice a predator was either a fool or more than they appeared to be. Still, though one could appear weaker than one truly was, Jacen could sense that there was no trap. Poyin was a Lesser Fey and he a Greater Fey; that was the truth of it and there was no more to be said. He stepped slightly to the left as he walked, bringing his trajectory nearer to Poyin's by fractions of an inch at a time. Poyin knew that he had been spotted, and worse, he knew that Jacen could sense his thoughts. The Greater Fey's aura was overpowering; already Poyin was trapped within it, the conclusion of the dance visible from its initial steps. But there remained some small hope within him of escape. He could sense Jacen smiling at that hope, and internally he cringed. Prey, prey, prey, the word ran through Poyin's mind until he could no longer tell whether it was his own thought or one that had been insinuated on his mind. Jacen drew closer, no longer bothering to appear aloof. He was staring at Poyin with azure eyes, his intentions clear and his actions following them. Poyin's teeth clenched and his strength broke like glass between them. It was foolish, but he ran. There was nothing else left to him.
 
Poyin heard the staccato clawing of sandaled feet etching a rhythm out of the underbrush close behind him. He'd only had a lead of thirty-odd feet when he'd begun running, and Jacen's reflexes had kept him from losing much distance beyond that. With incredible precision, Poyin sidestepped the trees that stood in his path, passing by them with scant inches to spare on either side. But it wasn't enough; despite running at his best pace, Poyin heard the Greater Fey's footfalls slowly gaining on him. Forgetting good sense for the moment, Poyin looked behind him. As if waiting for just such a thing, Jacen snapped at the air, biting the wind in prophecy of what was to come. Poyin's was momentarily transfixed, and he paid for the error in short order. A tree's bark grabbed his sleeve and tore it; the cloth shielded his arm from the friction but the cost in momentum and balance was far greater. Jacen let out a whooping cry and lunged.
 
But Poyin was not yet defeated. Crouching low and springing off of coiled heels, Poyin made use of his Fey heritage and ran on wind-borne feet, taking the air between the fingertips of his mind and arranging it to best fit his form. The air curved around him and cushioned his feet, making the way forward easier. Jacen's footsteps became softer, less audible. Confidence burnt in Poyin's heart while his lungs burned from the exertion. The pace was his to set. But suddenly the cadence of Jacen's footfalls changed. It was no longer the quick tsck-tsck-tsck-tsck of a panicked rush. It was like someone was taking a scythe to the detritus, wooshes and crashes combining in swinging rhythms. This time Poyin checked himself; he did not look back, he only guessed at what had happened. Jacen was leaping, covering the distance in great bounds that could be turned into a pounce at a moment's notice. Poyin had set the pace, but Jacen had kept it. Speed alone could not save him.
 
If the horizontal would not help Poyin, then he would take solace in the vertical. Poyin's hair streamed through a curve as he leaped toward a trunk and began to sprint up it as if it were flat on the forest floor. When the ceiling of leaves would permit him no further height, he turned and started back the way he had come, now many stories higher than when the chase had started. But despite putting distance between himself and the ground, Poyin found himself no farther from Jacen. The Greater Fey was still in pursuit, leaping from trunk to trunk with inhuman strength. Scabrous plates of bark shattered as Jacen's feet used them for purchase and threw them away when it aided his chase. Worse, Poyin could hear the fluttering of Jacen's jacket in the wind as the Greater Fey hurtled along behind him. The wind beneath his feet gave Poyin a slight advantage in agility; he bobbed and weaved as close to the leaves as he could, hopeful that some low-hanging branch would catch Jacen in mid-bound. But Jacen was unrelenting; when the leaves fell too low, he simply smashed through them like a ball of flame through tinder.
 
Poyin dove through an open spot in the boughs, not trying to gain the advantage but simply cutting his losses. Wind-walking was tiring and unproductive; Jacen was keeping up with him easily while Poyin depleted himself. In a few leaps Jacen was again on the forest floor, once more out-sprinting Poyin through the underbrush. Poyin had one final measure, one last hope of survival. As Jacen drew close and his overpowering aura began to fall over Poyin, the Lesser Fey seemingly evaporated. But he was only gone for an instant; his footsteps gave him away, now moving in another direction. Jacen stopped hard and slid, catching himself with his arms and letting out a growling, frustrated cry. There was a sound like a gunshot as he kicked off from the ground and bore down on Poyin with unprecedented speed. But again his prey swirled away at the last second. This time Jacen was ready for the trick and his response was not so awkward. The explosive kick came sooner now, and Poyin's gain was much less. The dance continued through repetition after repetition, Jacen smashing dirt up into the air with his kickoff and Poyin sparing his defense to the very last. It had become a game of attrition, of whose trick would tire them first.
 
A blast rang out early. All of a sudden Jacen was standing right in front of Poyin. Sensing the pattern, he'd changed his strategy; predicting where Poyin would teleport next, he'd simply gone to where he needed to be rather than where he wanted to be. Seeing the Greater Fey blocking his path, Poyin came to a halt from which he would never resume. So close, he felt crushed under Jacen's presence; the Greater Fey was standing with his fists against his hips, leaning forward with a smirk on his face, assured of his victory. From between the open folds of Jacen's jacket, Poyin could see the Greater Fey's taut muscles glistening with sweat. He wasn't tired, but he'd had to exert himself. "That was a good chase, Lesser!" Jacen said, his voice confident. "But now... you're mine. Stay."
 
The single word bound Poyin tighter than any rope or chain ever could. His moccasins scratched at the underbrush, trying in vain to move his body away from the Greater Fey. "No-no," Poyin said, his voice quivering and feminine. "Please don't..." But Poyin could feel something hot and pleasant and embarassing happening to his body. The sight of Jacen's body, of the power that had so handily bested him, was affecting him terribly. He looked away.
 
"Hmmmmmm?" Jacen crooned, cocking his head to one side and looking at Poyin down his nose. He grinned, baring a mouthful of pointed fangs. "Your mouth says 'no', but..." Jacen stepped forward and grabbed the hem of Poyin's pants as the Lesser Fey winced uselessly. "This is saying something different..." Jacen deftly untied the knot of rope that acted as Poyin's belt and gave his pants a pull. Poyin's penis jounced free of the restraints and continued to fill, slowly elongating and baring its reddened tip. To a Fey, the organ was the means by which energy could pass from them; Poyin's body already knew that it would soon be called to give up all that it had. Poyin felt his balls swelling as they drew a portion of his stock into themselves. "Yesssss," Jacen hissed into Poyin's ear. "See? This part of you is honest, at least..."
 
"J-just do it!" Poyin whined. The Lesser Fey was torn between the defeated survival instinct and his body's relent.
 
"Now where would be the fun in that?" Jacen said. He bent at the knees, slowly lowering himself into a kneel in front of Poyin. It might have looked as though Jacen were supplicating himself to Poyin, but nothing could be further from the truth. Still powerless to resist, Poyin watched as Jacen gently aligned his mouth with Poyin's cock. Desperate, Poyin twisted his hips to deny it from Jacen, but a simple grab of the hand without a single upward glance had it back under Jacen's power. Even with only the one point of contact, Jacen could still feel the shudder that went through Poyin's body as his tongue wrapped around Poyin's member. Leaning forward, Jacen slowly enveloped the rod of flesh until his lips were at Poyin's balls. After resting there for moment to feel the sack's involuntary throbs, Jacen drew back, painting a sensuous example for Poyin's member to follow. Poyin squeaked out an "Aaa-aaaah!" as slimy heat flowed up the bottom of his shaft until all but the tip was relinquished. Then Jacen fell forward again, gaining purchase for the next tantalizing wave. Again the roughness of Jacen's tongue curled around Poyin's shaft, and again the sliding wet muscle drew the cry of "Oooooooh" out of him. Poyin found his groin burning with pleasure, his balls aching for release after only a few passes. Jacen was well-practiced, his technique unlike any that Poyin had ever experienced before. Poyin couldn't help but think of Jacen as a master predator, an image supported by the prickles of Jacen's teeth scraping deliberately across the top of his cock. Now Poyin was fighting with himself, trying to keep from thinking of Jacen as his devourer. The physical stimulation Poyin could endure, but the image of his own body sliding into Jacen's, the thought of melting into that powerful, gorgeous body-- it was too much! A spark shot through Poyin, and with a red-cheeked, choking sigh his balls began to pulse. Semen roiled out of him, not the collection of sugars and proteins that a human might issue but a stream of pure mana, the stuff that Fey were made of. As each spurt poured through his cock and into Jacen's willing throat, Poyin felt himself becoming weeaker. Jacen swallowed it all greedily as it arrived until he was forced to withdraw and take a breath. At last, Poyin gave a final pair of humps and halted, his knees shaking; Jacen licked Poyin's softening member clean as he released it and stood.
 
Jacen licked a honeyed strand from his teeth, in full view of Poyin. "That's an excellent start, Lesser," he said. A series of tiny squelches emitted from his midsection, playing their way down the muscled contours of Jacen's internals. Poyin felt a little prick of horror at the thought that he had already been partially absorbed, his energy stolen-- no, given up to the mightier Fey. He could sense the broadened gulf between them, the magic he'd lost now swirling around in the Greater Fey's body. Already they'd begun to merge; already the unstoppable slide had begun. Poyin squirmed in useless protest, fighting Jacen's charisma to no avail.
 
"P-please don't," Poyin said. "I'll do anything, anything..."
 
Jacen just smirked. "You know, I can smell the fairies in you, Lesser," said the Greater Fey. "Still swirling around in your blood. Did they plead to you, Lesser?" Poyin turned his chin away, grimacing. "Did they?" Jacen demanded.
 
"Y... y-yes," Poyin said, as though the word were being pulled out of him.
 
"But you didn't give them any mercy, did you?"
 
"N... n... no..."
 
"Of course not! They were just puny little fairies and you were a big, bad Lesser Fey. So you bound them and ate them and melted them away. And now I get to do the same to you!"
 
Poyin gained an instant's defiance. "You... you'll suffer the same fate, Teeth!"
 
Jacen laughed. "Aye. Someday something will catch me, and strip me out of my clothes," here he began pushing Poyin's jacket over the Lesser Fey's shoulders and down toward the ground, "And swallow me," he licked at Poyin's neck, sending the Lesser Fey into shivers, "And make me scream and come," one of Jacen's hands started pulling down Poyin's pants while the other teased his half-erect member into full tumesence, "until I melt. But that's not me today, Lesser, that's you. Lie."
 
The word had more gravity in it than the world. Poyin fell more than lay down, sprawling onto his back as if slain. Jacen loosed the pants from Poyin's ankles, drawing off his moccasins and socks in the same gesture. With watery eyes the naked Lesser Fey looked up at his tormentor from where he lay, every part of him slack but his stiffened manhood. Chuckling, Jacen shrugged his jacket over his own shoulders, letting it pool on his elbows as he knelt. Poyin thought that the Greater Fey was going to start swallowing him, but Jacen still wanted to torture his prey. The Greater Fey half-lunged into Poyin's crotch, ravenously sucking at Poyin's manhood with even more force than before. This was not the gentle love-making that a Lesser Fey girl would inflict on Poyin when he had the good fortune to find them; they would tease him, tickle him, tempt him into relinquishing a bit of his essence. And when they were finished, they'd offer him the chance to take as much nectar from their flowers as they had taken from him. Not so with Jacen. Jacen intended to take all that Poyin had with as much force as was required. The slurping sucks he took at Poyin's cock made an example that Poyin was incapable of resisting; his groin throbbed with every pulse, yielding up sweet fluid every time Jacen drew back. With his fingertips, Jacen squeezed at the hardened berries in Poyin's sack, making them jerk with reflexive emissions. Already alight from his previous orgasm, it was not long before a sharp "Aaaaah-huh..." escaped Poyin's lips and the next of his losses began. Poyin felt his mana flowing out of him in squirts, his strength leaving through his twitching member. Traitorous instincts fed Poyin a torrent of pleasure as his energy released; a comfortable numbness came over him as he reached the end of his climax.
 
A tired delirium veiled Poyin's perceptions as he came down from his ecstatic high. He only dimly heard the burbling, squelching sound as Jacen digested the latest load and only scarcely comprehended the implications. He had a vague, bizarre sense of what was happening to the energy that had so recently been a part of him: it was within Jacen now, being picked apart and dispersed within the Greater Fey. The feedback tickled Poyin into confused and meaningless squirms, simultaneously delighted expressions and feeble attempts at flight. Jacen stifled the kicks coming out of Poyin's ankles by grabbing them and holding them together. Poyin let out a pained cry, not out of any discomfort but out of the knowledge of what was to come. Jacen had finished toying with him; now the Greater Fey was moving on to what he really wanted. A Fey's body could be made to relinquish a great deal of its mana through its genitals, but the body would always hold a little in reserve. To take this last cache would require special effort, of the kind that only a creature's stomach can exert.
 
Too weak and too drained to resist, Poyin knew that he would soon have everything taken from him. He could feel Jacen's teeth biting into his legs, the shark-like fangs climbing his calves steadily. Wriggle though he might, there was nothing that Poyin could do to slow Jacen's advance. The Greater Fey's throat was hot and slick; saliva flooded Jacen's mouth and flowed down around Poyin's soles. Jacen was kneeling, holding Poyin in place with his arms and walking his jaws over Poyin's body like a python. His mouth crested Poyin's kneecaps; the Lesser Fey watched in horror as Jacen stretched around his body. The Fey's form was not rigid; it could change to suit their desires. Jacen's desire was to surround Poyin, and so he swelled with the added mass. As Jacen gnawed at Poyin's thighs, Poyin felt his feet reach something that was momentarily unyielding. A fresh surge of both desire and fear percolated in Poyin as he realized that he'd reached Jacen's stomach. Now it was only a matter of the rest of his body being drawn in. Poyin let out half a sob as his member began twitching and filling once again. The feeling of Jacen's hot, slick throat around his legs had made Poyin's body despair of ever knowing freedom again; treacherous instincts told him that if he was to be devoured, he ought to enjoy it. Poyin felt Jacen give a heaving swallow, pulling forward as quickly as Poyin slid backward. The entire throat crushed in around him, squeezing his thighs together and pressing his balls out from between them. Poyin's back arched as the friction against his sac sent a tingle up his spine, conveniently lifting his tight little ass off the ground. Jacen seized the opportunity and swallowed again, lurching forward and claiming Poyin's cheeks in a single colossal gulp. With another swallow, the Lesser Fey's crotch sank into the Greater Fey's throat, and the feel of the slimy undulating flesh against his rod removed all reluctance from Poyin's mind. Arching his back again, Poyin let out a shivering breath that carried his will to resist away from him with it. The fight was over. Now, he was just food.
 
Sensing his prey's defeat through the sudden slackness of its body (with one noteworthy exception), Jacen changed his stance. Pushing off the ground with his arms, he reared back, hurling Poyin in an arc through the air. When the two Fey came to rest again, Jacen was kneeling, his head pointing straight into the air. Poyin's body, lodged as it was inside Jacen's mouth, looked like a bizarre continuation of the Greater Fey's own. Poyin hung limply to his rear; had he any vigor he could easily have thrown Jacen off-balance with a little effort. But it was only because Poyin had so completely surrendered that Jacen had assumed this position, and with the feeling of Jacen's throat undulating across his member, and of the rhythmic peristalsis working him deeper into his devourer's body, and of the stomach acids already beginning to work at his feet, Poyin would never even think of resisting. The experience was simply too vivid and the Fey body's instinct to relinquish its energy too powerful to overcome. Jacen was a fleshy pit into which Poyin was slowly sinking, saliva roiling up from its rim to help him slide in easier. Jacen's stomach swelled as Poyin's feet pressed down into it; his belly bulged as much as was necessary to contain the food descending into it. As predigestive slime oozed around Poyin's navel and the small of his back, he felt his feet curling upward as his final destination asserted its limits. As his belly began its journey toward its superior, Poyin felt his knees come to rest in the bottom of Jacen's stomach, where the acids began to smooth his knottled skin. There was no pain in it; as the digestive fluids stripped away his flesh, the Lesser Fey felt only an insane pleasure, a willingness to lose that which was being taken from him.
 
Jacen swallowed again, with deliberate slowness, so as to prolong his victim's torturous pleasure. Poyin's arms had fallen outside of Jacen's mouth, but his ribs were disappearing one by one. A gulp, and the first of them sank; a gulp, and the greater fey's lips curved over the next two; a gulp, and the ones beneath Poyin's nipples fell in. Jacen's tongue played between Poyin's shoulderblades, the thick muscle tickling him and eliciting compliant moans as it pushed him down. Poyin felt his arms rising; Jacen's lips had reached his armpits. In some errant pang of resistance, Poyin refused to do anything about his situation; Jacen was forced to simply swallow harder and force his way around. Poyin's arms slowly began to lift; his pleasure-soaked mind took it as a sign of the uselessness of struggling. A rolling swallow rippled up Poyin's body, drawing him down and sending a fleshy stroke up his shaft that pinned him back into submission. With a tremor in his midsection, a little bit of Poyin's precome became part of the surrounding slime. As his chin sank into the spittle, Poyin felt his body shifting again, bending at the hips; he was slowly assuming the fetal position as more of him fed into Jacen's stomach. Jacen's belly swelled hugely out from beneath his ribs, straining the seams of his jacket despite it being open and loose. Sensing the end of his task near at hand, Jacen began to swallow harder, squeezing a coo out of Poyin's lungs before taking down the Lesser Fey's head in a single heaving gulp. With Poyin's body holding his throat open, Jacen found himself unable to get any traction on the Lesser Fey's arms or hair. However, both of them were irrevocably attached to Poyin's torso, so as peristalsis forced Poyin down, his streaming appendages flowed into Jacen of their own accord. Jacen felt a relief in his throat as his food moved down, the tightness leaving by inches as Poyin oozed down into his stomach. Soon there was nothing left on the road down but Poyin's arms, and these suddenly vanished as Poyin drew them down to himself. All that remained of Poyin to the outside world was some strands of pink hanging from Jacen's lips; these he swallowed with difficulty, the stringy, itchy hair giving him trouble until it was thick enough with saliva to go down. Then there was no more; in a pleasant stupor from the exertion, Jacen wiped the drool from his chin and cradled his hugely distended gut as he sat. It had been a long and difficult process, but his reward was about to come.
 
Poyin, meanwhile, was sitting inside of Jacen with his arms around his knees. Though all around him was pitch black, his other senses painted a very clear picture of his surroundings. Poyin was surrounded with the sounds of Jacen's body: he could hear the thumping of Jacen's heart, the wind passing in and out of the Greater Fey's lungs, and of course the gurgling digestive noises from below and all around him. From every direction slick, rippled flesh undulated around Poyin, forcefully pushing him this way and that, kneading him and drenching him in slime. The fluid was viscous, thicker than water but runny and quick-flowing; it smelled of sweat and musk and squelched when it was trapped between Poyin's body and the stomach walls. A pool of the liquid several inches deep was resting at the bottom, sloshing around with every contraction; more of it was leaking from above, soaking into Poyin's hair and sliding down his chest. It tingled where it touched Poyin's skin; he knew that it was eating at him, pulling his body apart, but the feeling was pleasant and against all sense he wanted more of it. Fey bodies are made of magic, and magic is not something that is made to act unwillingly. Jacen's stomach acid was breaking Poyin down not by force but by seduction; it made the Lesser Fey want to give up his energy, and so, particle by particle, Poyin was dissolving. He felt the wrinkles in his sac coming undone as the skin loosened; he felt himself sinking into the muck as his ass melted away. Poyin's arms slowly slid down his legs as the strength went out of them; he felt his ears beginning to droop as they lost their support. All the while a glowing heat in his groin was building, as if it were the candle-flame that was making his body drip like wax.
 
Amidst the biological clamor, Poyin heard some subtly different churning sounds coming from below. Different pulsations than the ones that were slowly grinding him apart rippled upward, adding an extra gentle rock to the sea of muscle's waves. If Poyin had ever thought that he had no further defeat to suffer, those sensations would have proved him wrong. Dimly, Poyin realized that some of his liquefied bits had begun to flow into Jacen's intestines. The sounds and vibrations were the signs that his absorption had already begun. He was being devoured again, slurped down into still deeper recesses of Jacen's body, and now he felt even more powerless than before. He didn't even have the energy to resist the tremors that rolled through Jacen's body as the Greater Fey groaned in satisfaction. Jacen spoke, and his voice shook Poyin to his very core. With a smirking chuckle, Jacen hissed, "Yesssss... give in, little one. You're all mine now. Mine, forever..." The order was absolute, and Poyin's obedience was total. Jacen's stomach worked at Poyin's body, crushing it in powerful gastric contractions and causing it to deform ever more under the pressure. With each roll of force through his body, Poyin felt his pleasure building. More and more the environment around him was permeating him; the incredible heat of Jacen's insides was slipping down into Poyin's very core. The digestive slime was crawling into his body, making it all gooey and soft. Poyin felt like he was made of warm butter, held together by only the barest strands of substance. And then, Poyin heard a squelch come from within himself, and the sound of his own body digesting sent him over the edge. Silently orgasming for the last time, Poyin liquefied, his entire body flowing amongst itself into a single puddle of nutritious soup within Jacen's stomach.
 
Jacen smiled to himself as he felt the sudden change in his belly's texture. The stiff outline of the Lesser Fey was gone, replaced with the sloshing fluid weight that he had been broken down into. Jacen's stomach, stupid organ that it was, continued to squeeze and grind at its contents. Some of Poyin was forced down into the intestines, while the rest that remained became thinner and easier to send on. Jacen took in a hissing breath as his body began to absorb Poyin's in earnest. Perhaps it did feel good to be devoured; however, Jacen was perfectly content with what he experienced as the predator. The feeling of pressure in his bowels, of the long, squirmy tracts filling up with the liberated nutrients of some lesser Fey, of the heat that made its way into his blood as their energies became his own never failed to make his heart race. Thankfully, Jacen's kneeling position gave him just enough wiggle-room to alleviate the building pressure in the crotch of his pants. The Greater Fey pulled his pants just far enough down his legs to allow his stiffening cock to rise freely. Jacen had felt that capricious organ twitching the entire time, but as an experienced predator he knew better than to let his prey see that he could be just as easily controlled as they. But with Poyin now in no position to take advantage of Jacen's familiar weakness, he could freely allow his balls to fill with the overflowing mana and his shrinking but still swollen belly to tease his manhood.
 
But Poyin was not quite disposed of. Though entirely fluid, Poyin was still dimly conscious, a disembodied thought-stream adrift in the digested slime of his former body. He could feel how he was draining, yielding under the pressures of Jacen's stomach to move onward. Peristalsis churned him along the length of Jacen's insides, lighting up Poyin's mind with awareness of the serpentine path he followed. Stinging pleasure rippled through him as the deep digestive enzymes rendered him ever simpler; his outsides tickled as Jacen's villi drank him up. All the while Poyin reeled in awe at the bizarre beauty of what was happening to him. Freed from his animal will to survive, he had only the psychic appreciation of the combination of his own self with that of Jacen's. Poyin could feel the two of them becoming one; he sensed the diffused parts of himself coming to rest within Jacen's body. Jacen's silhouette became clearer and clearer as Poyin's consciousness became dimmer and dimmer. Poyin slowly regained the feeling of having a body, with all its pleasures: the feeling of having a heavy, full belly, the warming of the blood as the freshly-digested food spread within it, the tingling touch of a hand running up and down his cock...
 
Jacen worked feverishly at his shaft, his belly now nearly flat. His stomach had emptied, but his lower gut still bulged and writhed as his instestines sucked away what was left of Poyin. In the back of his mind, he sensed Poyin's consciousness approaching. The Lesser Fey was permeating his body, slowly assimilating into every inch of his flesh. For a moment, their spirits touched, and the two Fey felt all the pleasure experienced by the other. Jacen felt Poyin's joy at feeding his devourer, and Poyin felt Jacen's passion for consuming. They saw themselves reflected in each other, pleasure mounting like a hall of mirrors in an endless cycle impossibly contained in a single instant. Jacen tensed, hissed, and lost control, pumping roughly from his groin as bursts of semen erupted from him. With a growling moan he forced out as much as he could, milking his cock with his hand and squeezing in waves at the hips. Then tiredness came over the Greater Fey and emptiness filled his balls. Supporting himself on his palms, Jacen tipped his head back and panted happily, a few final gurgles emanating from his insides and a last dribble or two flowing out of his manhood. He'd never enjoyed taking a Lesser so much.
 
Smiling, Jacen rocked forward and examined himself. His penis, now softening, was slick with his own juices and attached to the inordinately large puddle of come by a thin, transparent strand. His pants were a bit messy, but they'd certainly get worse if he tried to hike them up in his current state. Fortunately, there was a handy solution: leaning over slightly, Jacen took up Poyin's coat and unceremoniously wiped up with it. Once dried to his satisfaction, Jacen smirked and tossed the garment into the puddle, and just for good measure he threw Poyin's pants on top of it as well. Standing, Jacen momentarily let a genuine smile cross his face. But soon the smile and the Greater Fey to whom it belonged were gone, off into other parts of the Mystic Wilds, leaving in their wake a come-stained pile of clothing as the only evidence that there had ever been a Lesser Fey called Poyin.
 
 
 
***
 
AUTHOR'S COMMENTS:
 
Magic is king in the Mystic Wilds. You can look as crazy as you like, so long as you've got the magic to make people overlook you when you want them to. (Fat lot of good it did Poyin, though, eh?)
 
One convenient way of telling Greater Fey from Lesser Fey is the teeth. Lesser Fey have humanlike teeth, while Greater Fey have more sharkish, all-pointed teeth. However, if you are staring at their teeth you are probably on your way to passing through them...
 
Expect a world data article and many more stories set in the Mystic Wilds. I'm fond of this setting and it's fertile ground for more work.
 
Fun fact: working on the chase scene led directly to having my first and only vore-related dream. It was nothing like this story, though. In fact, it's probably best classified as a nightmare.
 
1/3/10: Fixed some canon errors in the introduction.