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The Bonfire of Submission (oral vore, story) By TheGuyWhoKnows -- Report

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Sikhule is quite an interesting snake. She’s a god, she’s from another world with trillions of gods fighting eternally for dominance. Or at least there were, because in that world she won. She’s here to dominate, be worshipped by, and devour everything that exists, and the fact that she started very very small is no obstacle. Especially when she has a good, adorable, blue raccoon to serve her, and a cute red dragon to feed her.

A belated birthday present for  tacokurt, who is lovely and who drew this awesome thing. Felpur is his. Kartonis is, surprise, :Kartonis: . You were delicious, dragon. Sikhule is mine. Or maybe I’m hers.

Do enjoy. This story was a single day’s work, so there may be issues. I apologise grieviously.

Thank you again, all of you. Sikhule will take you. Always.

Contains: snake raccoon dragon oral vore hypnosis mind control gluttony stuffing semi-willing unwilling belly bulges F/M enslavement Sikhule Tacokurt Kartonis

This time when Felpur Tacokurt got home from work, he almost managed three steps past the door. That was good.

Maybe it was good. It was difficult to think these days, even outside the house. The blue raccoon’s brain was full of gold, and sparkling light, and honeyed lips, and heat, and weight, and weight/ and power.

And right now, so was everything else in the world.

She hit him like a wrecking ball - no, like an avalanche, smashing into every inch at once. His entire body was swallowed in the mass of her, toes to ears, all submerged. A coil as thick as a tree trunk wrapped between his legs, spreading them apart, and another enveloped his hips. His arms were levered away and trapped similarly, and his feet lifted off the ground. His chest was devoured by them,, his face smooshed against something hot and liquid-soft.

She had no scales, just something like skin which was as smooth as glass and as soft as cushions, and which left little firecrackers of sensitive pleasure on every part they brushed. And she was hot, not enough to hurt but enough to leave him panting. That shouldn’t happen with snakes, Felpur remembered vaguely. But she was no snake.

He gasped at the sudden manhandling, and then made a sound like nyufffffffffffffffffnfnf, as all the breath he had inhaled and all the breath he’d had before were steadily forced right back out of his lungs. She squeezed. Not his chest, not his throat, but his everything. That silken flesh rippled across him, tenderising his body and compressing him unutterably, slow waves of pressure and power which left him on the brink of total unconsciousness.

Felpur twitched, weakly, and the thick, heavy coils absorbed the motions with an almost greedy pleasure, settling further on top of him for a few seconds of asphyxiating rest. The coil between his legs seemed to thicken, something being pushed through it, soft and fat. Then the pillowy mass his face was pressed against shifted away, and his fluttering eyes could see more than just the endless gold.

But not much more.

She looked down at him, seeming to tower over him. She was bigger again, her head now as large as a horse’s. Her throat was a pale cream, and Felpur had spent enough nights smothered against it to know how it was softer even than the rest of her. The rest of her flesh was what he’d seen before, what his head was still full of: gold, endless gold, with twinkling stars suspended in it like flies in amber. It was though she was translucent glass, although Felpur knew she wasn’t. The illusion was broken whenever she ate, for anything inside her showed up only as a bulge.

Her lips were elegant and plush, and her eyes were a strange dark blue, with pupils of paler blue. She was beautiful. She was terrifying.

She was, technically, his pet.

He stared up at her, mouthing weak words, and Sikhule (Sih-COO-leh), whose full list of titles took more than three days to say, kissed him. Her large lips had to seal around his entire muzzle, but it didn’t stop the heated sensuality of it, nor the invasion of her long slender tongue, which pushed its way into his mouth and casually enfolded his own in a prehensile embrace, forcing this final muscle to submit to her as well.

Gently, just a little, she breathed, and Felpur trembled with desperate relief as his lungs filled again. The serpent smelled like spices from another world entirely.

“Mmnfghf…” he managed to mumble against her.
Sikhule smiled, dipped her head further, forming a pillow of one coil while she began to lick and suckle Felpur's ears. The sounds were atrocious, liquid, gurgling slurps penetrating half a foot into his skull. The raccoon’s body shuddered with the overload of it.

“I took the Andersens today,” she murmured in between licks. “That’s what you’re feeling between your legs.” The coils down there gurgled, shifting a little just to rub back and forth against him. “It was delightful. I took Jonas and Angela and charmed them until they begged me to crawl down into me, and then I let them - together, so there was all sorts they could do on the way. And all the while, I had Meredrith coiled up and watching them, without any charming at all. It was such a contrast. Joy and ecstasy feeding into horror and despair, and right back round.” She licked her lips, and continued grinding the bulge of the unfortunate muskrats right against his groin, so soft, so hot. Something broke deep inside, and the liquid heat flooded halfway across his hips.

A small part of Felpur knew that this should be a very, very bad thing. He had liked the Andersens, who had lived two floors down from him. He had liked Mr Patel, too. And Sally, and the Redwoods, and the Morsons, and Miss Orwell and Miss Caltain, and… others. It was hard. There were a lot of them. And besides, every time he felt that simmering smooth heat on his flesh, it felt like no matter how much he liked anything, it didn’t matter. Because he worshipped Sikhule.

It made sense. She was a god. Or she had been, back in her own universe. More specifically, the God, capital G, after successfully winning what she referred to as “the long game” against trillions of other gods. She had defeated, destroyed, or devoured every other deity - sometimes all three - and reigned unchallenged for longer than his universe had even existed, long enough that she had… become the universe itself, in some way, absorbing it into herself until every inch of it was a part of her. That was what the stars were - real stars, long lost to her flesh and her guts. And then she had discovered that there was more, and come bursting out into his.

And found out that her entire universe had in fact been about as large as a carbon molecule.

It had been… unexpected. But gods were mentally resilient. Sikhule had considered, hovering in the sunlight of a new day, so small that she was able to watch the photons moving, and decided to do it all over again, starting with atoms and moving on up the scale. With each meal she grew stronger, and larger, and hungrier. It had taken her twenty years to get to the point of humans. Which, she had once pointed out cheerfully, would mean that if she wanted to continue this rate of growth, she’d be able to eat the sun in about another eight. But she didn’t. She wanted to enjoy herself along the way.

“Do you think they’ll look good on me?” she whispered, letting him draw back just a little to see the thick mass of her coils, filling the hallways and half the room next to it. And still getting thicker and longer, as the Andersens were steadily absorbed into her.

“Um…” Felpur mumbled, trying to pull his mind free of that niggling thought. Something should be bad about this. Something should be very, very, very bad.

Felpur swallowed, tasting her again. Sikhule watched his little face twitching as he tried to formulate words through the fog of adoration. She had taken on the mantle of God of Love a few times back in her old life, and while she had been less interested in making people fall in love with people who were not her, the abilities she had gained were very useful. In fact…

She narrowed her eyes, and kissed him again, staring into his eyes. From the stars within her body, lines of glimmering pink energy began to gather, pouring through her and pooling in her eyes as hot orbs of shining energy. It came from every shrine and temple and church ever built to her, and it came hot and hungry, pure desire and love and lust. It bled from her eyes and into his own, soaking into him cell by cell.

The little part of Felpur didn’t so much fade away as drown, on a tsunami of bliss and peace and love and aching desire. He breathed out into her, whimpering blissfully as his lungs were squeezed again, his eyes carrying still carrying the simmering pink heat. The raccoon groaned with adoring desire, rolling his hips and rubbing his whole body against her, pushing back in his insatiable desire. Sikhule brushed his lips with every word, half drowning him in her honey-thick saliva.

“Who do you love, little one?”

“Y… you…” Felpur moaned.

“And who do you serve?”

“Y-y… you…”

“And who will you feed to me?”

“E… everyone…” he shuddered as the thought swamped every memory, turning every face into a moaning, sinking swell. “Everyone… who… e-ever… existed… bulges… your… coils… m-more… p-please…”

The god smiled at him, and lessened the roaring tide a little, letting him speak a bit more coherently. “That’s right. So: I want you to feed me a dragon.”

Felpur looked dreamily at her for several seconds before the words registered. Then his tender little lips parted in a frown. “D… dragon?” he said. “They… I… I don’t think… t-they… exist…”

“No, they do. They tried that in my world too, on several planets. At first it was to keep mortals like you out of their business and away from their hordes, and then it was to hide from me. It didn’t work. But they’re definitely here.” She inhaled, letting him sink deeper into her endless coils. “I can smell them on the air, that sweet scent of scales and fire. It’s far away, but… well, I am a god. So: I want you to feed me one.”

Felpur felt that pink simmering in his eyeballs and behind his brains. In another life this would be incredible to hear, but next to the perfect, heavy coils all around him, it was hard to feel anything but more lust for her. “Aren’t they… big..?” he asked, slowly. The divine serpent rolled an eye down to look at him

“Yes. That’s why I want to eat one.” Sikhule was drooling at the thought of it, her every word leaving oozing saliva trails across the raccoon’s muzzle. “To fit them inside, to stuff them down, to feel them squirm, bulges which push me in a million spots all at once… mmm. I’ve missed them, really.”

“But…” he swallowed, tasting her again in his throat. “Aren’t…they… too big?”

The serpent’s smile widened. Her dark-blue-light-blue eyes glittered. For a moment, even through the joy of feeling and seeing her, Felpur could see what was really there: an alien sentience of endless, towering ambition, which dressed itself up in words and smiles just as much as coils and golden starry skin.

“Maybe. That’s why I want to do it now.”

They had to drive. Sikhule could make herself smaller quite easily (“it’s being larger which is the part I have to work at”) so she coiled around his neck at a mere ten feet, her body just as soft and somehow almost as heavy. At this size, the gleaming, sparkling snake attracted a few fascinated looks or questions, but nothing more. She was a Kuteketeza Golden Snake, he had told his neighbours, a name which translated from Kaswahili (the first language she had learned here) as “consuming”. Sikhule found it hilarious.

No-one lived long enough to actually think of looking it up.

Love-drunk servants were not actually very good at driving, so Sikhule lessened her hypnosis on Felpur in the car. It was like waking from a dream, over and over again, until he started to get a sort of vertigo from being so aware. They drove along the freeway, then out towards the countryside. Sikhule hummed a melody older than the sun, playfully choking him now and then or nestling close to lick some part of him and tenderise it. Occasionally, she poked her head out of the window, sniffing the air, then told him to take the next right, or keep straight, or go left, no, your other left, little one, come on.

Felpur felt the niggling bad thoughts clustering at the base of his skull as he drove, louder now. They were, roughly:

She’s going to eat you.

She’s going to eat you.

She’s eaten your friends. She’s eaten your neighbours. She’s going to turn your whole world into a church just to worship her, and then eat them, slowly, probably over the next ten thousand years, but it won’t stop her. And first she’s going to get you to serve you until there’s nothing left and then she. Is going. To eat you.

He frowned, moistening his lips. That one did summon a small ember of dismay: the idea that he wouldn’t be able to serve her.

“M… mistress?” he mumbled, keeping his eyes on the road. Sikhule slithered up, enfolding his limbs and perching her head delicately atop his own, licking at his ears again.


“What are you… going… to… do with me?”

“All sorts of terrible things, dear. You think the Andersens felt good, just wait until there’s a dragon in there.”

”No, I mean… after that.”

She cocked her head thoughtfully. “Well… I suppose we might move. You’re running out of neighbours. Maybe a busier area, so I can start making use of the new girth I’ve gained. How’s that sound?”

“No,” Felpur said, this time with the tiniest shred of irritation. “I mean… in… in the end.”

“Ohhhh.” The snake steadily moved her head down, snuggling now against his shoulder. “You sound a little bit conflicted. Would you like me to pour more charming into you until you can’t even think for loving me?”

“Y… I…y-… nnn… n-no,” he said, with a lot of effort. This was important. “Can you just… t-tell me? Please? My… my god?”

She chuckled. “It’s not a grand secret, darling. You know what’s going to happen.”

The car rumbled. Felpur slowly raised a hand to his head, trying to stop the screaming inside it. Sikhule wrapped around his arm, nudging it. “Little one. Pull the car over.”

Felpur swallowed. “I…” The words were very hard. “I… don’t… want…”

There was just a flicker of pink, shimmering along the long body and out into the eyes. Without input from himself, his body gently drew the care to a halt along the country road. They were on the edge of a forest, sunlit in the middle of the afternoon. A small sign a few yards away announced proudly that it was twenty six miles to the nearest town.

Felpur didn’t let go of the wheel. Sikhule coiled in his lap, looking at him. She didn’t seem upset.

“Now, finish your sentence,” she said. “You don’t want what?”

He did. He wanted her. He ached for her. His mind was full of thoughts of gold and blue.

“I…” he whispered, his voice quivering with effort. “I… can you… tell me… please. Just… s-say… it…”

Sikhule looked up at him, and smiled. Then she leaned forwards, until her lips were nearly level with his. “When I decide, little one, I will devour you. It could be in two minutes time. It could be in two hundred years. But you will never, ever, ever, ever spend a single second of your life outside of my power. You will serve me all the way until that moment, and beyond it.”

Felpur trembled. His eyes felt wet, for some strange reason. But Sikhule had not finished.

“When I do,” she said, softly, “I will come for you gently, tenderising every part of you inch by inch, muscle by muscle. I’ll drive your breath from your lungs for hours at a time, and let you feel me in that glassy state of half-consciousness before you pass out without ever ending it. Then I’ll start to work on you. I’ll start with lubricating. I’ll grind my sex over you until you’re drenched in the lust-juices of a god from head to toe, and then I’ll lick it off, letting my tongue slurp every curve, every crevice, every part. All the while, of course, the rest of you will be CRAMMED inside my coils, locked so tight that it’ll look to the whole world like I’m just burying my head in the mass of my own tail. Then, once I’ve tasted every inch, and gone back for seconds on, mmm, my favourites…” She licked his lips playfully, “…I’ll start swallowing. You think my skin is soft? You should feel my maw. In fact,” She paused, and turned to the hand on the wheel, licking it, caresses of hot wet flesh easing each finger off before there was a lazy glrrrk, and she had slurped up his whole hand. It was… fuck, it was so good. “I’ll start with your little pretty paws, and up, and up. I’ll work my way over your thighs, and slather your hips in enough saliva that I can cram your cute rear down my gullet. I’ll make sure to feel every bulge, too. Your belly will be teased, your chest will be lavished, your arms suckled in like noodles, your head savoured like a lollipop. I’ll take my time with it though. I’ll probably slither around for a week with you in my gullet, still watching through my open jaws, knowing that all it takes is a slrrp. And finally, after a lot more tasting, I will swallow you. Slowly. Softly. Enough to let you writhe a few inches up between each gulp plunging you down a foot. I’ll track you, nuzzle every foot that bulge sinks through me - and I’ll be long then, long enough for the trip to take months if I want. I’ll whisper to you and tease you as you’re softened. And then, when you finally break down, when that swell softens to nothing but a bubbling chyme… I’ll slurp your soul out and smear it across the deepest, darkest, hottest, wettest, tightest curve of my guts. And I’ll keep you there, inside me, feeling me, until I’ve finished with this universe, and the next, and the next, and the next. Tingling within my coils, squirming inside my soul, lavished and languishing within my love and lust. Mine. All mine.”

She settled, snuggling against him, and watched his face. She had not used even a single shred of her powers. And yet Felpur sat, silently. His mouth was open. His whole body seemed to be on fire. His body was hot with sweat. He was afraid that he might explode if he moved.

“O…oh,” he managed at last. Sikhule giggled.

“That’s what I thought, little one. Now, shall we keep go-”


The front of the car was suddenly three feet closer to the ground. Felpur slammed forwards, nearly bruising his face on the steering wheel, but the little snake was there faster than he could even see her, cushioning him in coils. He slumped back, gasping for breath, and she coiled protectively around his shoulders, staring ahead and not speaking. Out of the shattered windshield he could see a single forepaw about as large as the tyres, and a red, scaly leg above it

With a screech of metal, the paw lifted away, replaced by a large, horned head. It was a large creature, with dark red scales and bright green eyes, and what appeared to be a rather playful smirk.

They had found their dragon. Or rather, the dragon had found them.

“Hello there,” the dragon purred. “What’s your name, little raccoon?”

Felpur reached instinctively for the coiled flesh around his neck. Sikhule was silent. The dragon noticed the motion.

“Oh, she is adorable,” he said, his voice deep and powerful, but surprisingly cultured. “Perhaps she can be an appetiser. Come on, little raccoon. My name is Kartonis. What’s yours?”

Sikhule squeezed his neck lightly.

“F… Felpur,” Felpur said. Sikhule’s powers didn’t seem to block fear caused by other people nearly as much as from herself. Kartonis nodded gravely.

“That’s a lovely name. Would you mind getting out of the car, please?”

The raccoon swallowed, trying to look at Sikhule. She was still staring at the dragon, her expression thoughtful. “U-um…” he stammered. “I-I, I I’d rather not.”

“Well then, I’ll have to just tear the roof off,” Kartonis said. “And that might hurt you. Which would be a tragic shame, wouldn’t it?”

Felpur nodded. The snake curled around him again, apparently having come to a decision.

“I’m not very patient when I’m hungry,” Kartonis said from outside. “And I can be quite nice to you if you taste nice to me. Think about that for a few seconds.”

Felpur swallowed. Sikhule pressed her head to his, letting him look her in the eye. A dash of pink simmered forth from her body and straight into him, quick enough that the dragon couldn’t notice it.

“In my guts,” she whispered. “Forever. That’s a promise, Felpur. Get closer.”

Felpur loved her so, so much. He trembled, slowly and carefully opening the door and getting out, the snake still around his shoulders. Kartonis stood over him, smiling. It was quite an incredible sight. He towered overhead, his body powerful and sleek, his eyes gleaming. One of his horns had an odd silver ring with a fleur-de-lys on it.

“That’s better,” he said, softly. “And you brought your little friend too, how kind.”

Felpur gripped Sikhule tightly. He wished he knew how powerful she actually was. “You can’t have her,” he said, his voice shaking. He forced his legs to take another step.

The dragon stepped forwards too, and reached out, gently pushing him down to his knees, his pawpads smooth and soft. “We’ll see, shall we? What’s her name?”

“Sikhule,” said Sikhule, looking up at him. “And I’d just like to say, you’ll be perfect.

She sprang off Felpur’s shoulders, leaping at him like a striking cobra, and Felpur could have sworn that every star in her strange, gleaming body seemed to go supernova in that one moment of pure flight, before she grew. FAST. What smashed into the dragon was a serpent about eighty feet long, thick enough to BREAK tree trunks. Kartonis roared, rearing backwards, but by that time she was on him, her tail shifting and squeezing and constantly tightening.

The Andersens, Felpur thought dazedly, looked glorious on her.

He staggered back against the car as they fought. Kartonis was strong, that was clear, but for every coil he managed to prise free another two would find there way on, and she was longer than him too, so there was enough to bind him properly. He snarled and hissed, but steadily, squirmingly, he sank, until his muzzle was squeezed into the dirt beneath a particularly fat coil. He growled, twitching and shifting, quite helpless.

Sikhule leaned down to look at him, smiling. “You know,” she murmured teasingly, “Where I come from, they had learned not to fall for that trick.”

Kartonis glared at her. “And where do you come from, snake of stars?”

The serpent lay her head down next to his. “The same place you’re going, actually. Me.”

“You?” He snorted, but there was an edge of nervousness. “You couldn’t fit me.”

“I thought the same thing, little one. But now I’m not so sure.” She squeezed his throat, cutting off his air, and let him wriggle deliciously for a few moments, before twisting herself just so to make him flip over onto his back. Kartonis glowered up at her, his scales smudged by the muddy ground.

“I won’t beg you to let me go, you know,” he said coldly. Sikhule settled, resting on his chest.

“I don’t want you to beg me to let you go, little one. I want you beg me to eat you.”

“W-what? Hahggrkkkk!” He laughed, but it was cut off with a wheeze as she crushed all the breath from his lungs. The heat of her soaked into him as the serpent began to ripple her body, grinding those thick, heavy curves across his scales. She leaned down.

“You heard me, little one. You know what was special about we gods, when we were born in the first second of our universe? We had no submission factor. We literally could not comprehend the idea of it. A god will suffer the worst torments imaginable for a million years rather than obey another for even the tiniest thing. We were nothing but ego, and ambition, and hunger for power. But everyone else everyone else has a spark of it. Somewhere, small and simple and soft… some part of them wants to give in. To kneel. To be ruled.”

Kartonis whined, deep in his throat. Sikhule licked his face again, her tongue silk-soft and hot. She was starting to salivate again,

“Just a spark.” She glanced over at the raccoon, staring at them with an expression of aching longing in his eyes. “Or, in Felpur’s case, a bonfire. But trust me, little one. I’m the best ruler you’ll ever find.”

Kartonis made little gurgling noises, but the coils only wrapped tighter around him. Sikhule slithered close to him, nuzzling along his neck.

“Let’s find your spark.”

She rippled herself, wrapping closer, and began to slowly roll her coils across him, great contracting swallowing motions that crushed each limb, each muscle, each part individually. Kartonis was squeezed until he couldn’t even flop his limbs. It was strange, half mulching his body, half massaging it to a point of such relaxation it couldn’t shift itself at all. And coming from the silken smooth surface of her, it felt… appalling, and amazing.

The dragon shuddered, managing to mumble a few words through the squeezing mass. “You… I… won’t…”

“That’s it. I can see it growing. Good little one. It would be perfect wouldn’t it, wouldn’t it? To fall into me, to sink down my gullet like a whirlpool of quicksand?”

Kartonis tensed, and his captor laughed, softly. “Oh? Really now. I thought I felt a little there when I pushed you into the dirt. Well, little one, just for you...” She raised herself up again, and rolled her neck, sensuous shimmies of those weighty curved coils that slithered down her body. “You see, I’m not just a god. I’m an entire universe. So it won’t be too hard to make sure you SINK.”

She opened her mouth over his face, and nearly drowned him. A slow, bubbling torrent of saliva dripped forth, oozing out in endless waves, gallon after gallon. Somehow, everything within was illuminated for… it felt like for miles. Sinking, squelching flesh, so soft and gelid it was almost collapsing itself, muscles like pillows, and all of it so thickly heavily lubricated by syrupy drool that it was closer to a mire than a gullet. Kartonis stared up into it, trembling silently. Sikhule closed her mouth again, and leaned down.

“You’re mine,” she whispered huskily. “Big, strong dragon, just a sinking bulge under the flesh of his owner. Padding my coils, softening my starry thickness. Oozing through the slimey mass of my guts, every inch a slog through enough bubbling chyme to drown you…” She lessened her coils, just an inch, to let him breathe - and let his body shift to rub back against the thick, shifting coils. “Come on, dear. Say it.”

“I… I’m… not...” Kartonis whispered, trembling. “I am… a damn… dragon…”

“My dragon.” She mashed a fat, saliva-sopping coil into his face, smothering him under it, and licked her words into his ears. Her tail casually pried the ring off one horn. “My little sweet bulge-dragon, my squishing squelching gut-squelching drool-drowning swallow-sinking dragon. Aren’t you?”


“Aren’t you?”

“You damned-”

”Aren’t you?”

The dragon in his coils shuddered, squirming up a storm, fighting himself. But it slipped out all the same.


It was all Sikhule needed. She smiled, looming over him.

“Then let me give you exactly what you want.”

She snapped her jaws forwards, locking them around his entire head, shoving the tip of his muzzle into the back of her gullet. The dragon trembled, wriggling and bucking, and her tail flexed over him, wringing the breath out of him and straight down her gullet. Slowly, gluttonously, lasciviously - finally - Sikhule swallowed.

Her throat sagged around her prey, the distension bulging out so thick and heavy that Felpur, still watching from the sidelines, could nearly see his eye sockets. And this was just the head. He stared at the entire beast, incredulously wondering if it would ever manage to fit.

Sikhule winked, and swallowed again, lapping over Kartonis’ neck as she began to slurp it in. Her throat swelled again, the bulge pushing through the soft underside. Squishes and squelches sounded from her stuffed gullet, each one a promise of what was going on inside. Kartonis was in the worst heaven he’d ever known. The serpent’s throat was an abyss, the walls so elastic that he could barely feel them squeezing and yet so tight that not a single air-bubble could escape. And it was full. Every inch he pushed through more dripping, drooling, saliva, more pillowy clenching muscles, and it smeared across his whole body.

Inch by gooey, glistening inch, he slid downwards, his mind hazy with oxygen deprivation and desire. To die like this, at the coils of a mad serpent proclaiming herself a god. To die… to die like this, sinking into this hot dripping mass… crushed by her weighty coils…

He tried to fight. He did. And the fact that it felt better than anything he’d ever experienced to grind his body across the soaking, steaming walls and through the oozing mire of drool was nothing to do with it. But even then, he was weak, and Sikhule was strong. She gulped his neck up with steady slurps, the bulge sinking through her. Next, however, came a trickier part. The shoulders were wide, strong and heavy, perfect for flying, less so for swallowing.

She didn’t stop. Patiently, the serpent slurped, her lips spreading wider, the bones of her jaw vanishing, her skin stretching. The stars within her spun and shimmered. Kartonis kicked weakly, pushing at the coils below. He had been forced to bend awkwardly to fit inside the throat, which was just fine from Sikhule’s point of view. Steadily, she gulped, gaining no longer inches, but millimetres. Her throat stretched, her maw yawned, her gullet bubbled… and she crested the widest part, with maybe half an inch to spare before she started to damage her immortal form.

GLLLLRSSSSCHHHH. Ravenously, she gulped, and the entire massive swell sank straight into her gullet, pushed easily now that she had a grip. Beneath it, the smooth golden skin stretched until the stars were nearly at the surface.

The god sagged with delight, and the massive bulge spreading down her neck slipped deeper by half a foot in one wet gulp. Now it was easier, for a while. Patiently, she continued, slurping up Kartonis’ chest, her tail carefully folding wings into her maw to be slurped down, his forelegs forced to press uncomfortably against his belly. His body was compressed, squeezed into the tightest, most edible space possible… and yet it was still very, very wide. Steadily, the swollen mass oozed inside.

Kartonis twitched fitfully. At this point his struggles were little more pleasure for her, and some stupid part of him was delighted by that idea. He shuddered as he squeezed through another lake of dripping fluids, the dark ahead of him drenching him to the bone. How much did she have? How wet, how greedy, was she?

Maybe she really was a god.

He had to admit, that did sound better. Sacrificed to the hunger of a god itself, and look how she hungered for him. How greedily she crammed him in, already reaching his stomach. How she drooled as she pushed him inside, gulp by bubbling gulp…

A small part of Kartonis called him a very derogatory word. The rest was starting to drift away, atop a tide of secret desires and choked breaths. He shifted, trying to formulate a plan, and felt more sizzling pleasure across his body at the motion.

_If he didn’t want to be eaten, why did it feel so good?_

He cursed the insidious thoughts, but by then there was nothing much he could do except feel it. Sikhule had reached his hips, wide and heavy as his shoulders had been. She lapped everywhere, too, and finally the dragon found a good reason to squirm. Weak as he was, and with his legs still coiled, it wasn’t much, but it was enough to grind himself against the flexing walls as she gulped him in. It was unbearable. She was unbearable.

After loosening up on his shoulders, the serpent had less trouble down here. She slurped awhile, toying with him, and then savoured the immense bulk sliding inside as his thighs, tailbase, and everything in between slid steadily between her jaws.

The bulge that used to be Kartonis twitched and squished, forced to drag along the lowest parts of her. Legs were easy, and Sikhule slurped them up like a dessert, the effortless treat after a good struggle. She savoured the paws for several minutes, lapping between each toe to make the dragon writhe within her, admiring the squirms within her own body and then gulped them down one at a time. Now was only left the tail, and that was nothing but one long, steady, slurping gulp, a sound of unholy churning bubbling out from her gullet as she slowly dragged it inside. And then-


The serpent closed her jaws, sighing, and surveyed her domain: her own body. It was stuffed, heavy bulges sinking through it, layer upon layer of starred flesh covering still twitching dragon. She balanced the ring on her tail, and piled another coil onto Kartonis, just to make him writhe a little more.


“That took some doing,” she murmured, shivering as the beast wriggled against a sensitive spot. “Wasn’t sure I was ready for a dragon, but… after all that squeezing and tenderising, he went down smooth.”

The dragon whimpered, deep inside, and Sikhule squeezed his face into more dripping masses of flesh, as it started to smother him in earnest. She toyed with the ring for a while, considering, then swallowed it too, letting it join her just as he did. Then she looked for Felpur.


The little raccoon hunched by the car, trembling. His eyes were huge, his body shaking, his tail fluffed up. The last of his conditioning had evaporated. He was, for once, completely conscious. And with her power depleted, her charming out of range, and her belly full of dragon, she was unlikely to catch him.

But gods don’t submit. Not to others, and not to circumstance.

“You… ate a dragon,” Felpur whispered. “I… I didn’t even know those e-existed until today! You ate… you ate everyone! M-my friends, my n-neighbours… And in the end you’re… you’re going to eat… me…”

Sikhule nodded, resting atop the groaning bulge. Her belly was working hard on the new load of mass. “I did,” she said. “And you watched. And rubbed them so, so well. And even now, you’re not running.”

Felpur trembled. “I… I j-just… I…”

“You wanted to watch, didn’t you?” She slithered a foot towards him and he flinched; she stopped immediately, trusting her words now. “It wasn’t made who made you love it, little one. I just kept these fearful parts quiet. The rest? The adoration, the fascination, the desire… that’s you. That’s your nature. Like I said, Felpur. You had a bonfire in you, urging you to submit.”

He hunched closer, clutching his tail. “I d-don’t… I don’t w-want…”

“You do.”

“Not everyone! N-not all o-of them!”

Sikhule smirked. “Oh, yes you do. Because that’s what makes it best of all. No-one else but me, little one. No-one but me.” She unrolled the bulging mass of dragon, teasingly caressing it with a tailtip. “Come closer, and you can get your paws into my first powerhouse meal. And,” she drew just a flicker of pink into her eyes. “All of your fears and anguishes will go away, too.”

“And what if I run?” he whispered, casting glances at the open road to either side. “What then?”

Sikhule shrugged her coils, making the swell jostle and sway. “I’ll find another. I’ll continue my quest to eat this whole world, but with another with me. Probably we’ll meet in the end, sure, but… you’ll miss out on so, so, so much before that. So many more meals. So many more nights in my coils, feeling them thicken. So many more bulges to squish and squelch.”

Felpur was silent for a long, long moment. Sikhule closed her eyes, feeling the pleasure pulse through her. Gods don’t get bored, and so it was just as intense as it had been in the first microseconds of her life, where she’d devoured three of her sibling gods, and every other time since then.

“You’re mine, little one,” she cooed, giving him a little wave. “You’ll be mine no matter what. Remember, darling. I’ll slurp your soul out and smear it across the deepest, darkest, hottest, wettest, tightest curve of my guts. And I’ll keep you there, inside me, feeling me, until I’ve finished with this universe, and the next, and the next, and the next.”

Felpur hesitated. Slowly, he stood up. “You… p-promise?” he whispered.

Sikhule had lied more times than there were stars in her guts. But this was entirely truthful.

“Of course I do.”

The raccoon took a step towards her. And another, and another, and another, and then he began to run. He slammed into the squishing bulge with a gasp of relief, and her influence settled on him like her own coils: fat, greedy, and smotheringly hot. Her lips came next, kissing him as she offloaded half a star’s worth of pure pink-hued love energy into his eyes. Docilely, the raccoon settled, hugging her, his glowing, dreamy eyes leaking tears.

“I love you,” he whispered, stroking the soft bulge, staring up at her strange eyes and sparkling flesh “I love you. I love you. I love you.”

Sikhule nosed him closer to it, deeper into it. “Everyone will, little one. Everyone will.”

Goldeneye 2019

Comment on The Bonfire of Submission (oral vore, story)

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Posted by ChaoskampfNunc 2 months ago Report

Aren't they so lucky to get to serve a goddess?


Posted by eatmeplease 2 months ago Report

I certainly think so! :3


Posted by eatmeplease 2 months ago Report

Sikhule is a wonderful snake! I can't imagine why anyone wouldn't want to be her food~