wanting content with tiny women and finding so much agreement that there should be more content with giant men except actually I’m not looking for that at fucking all. I’m looking for tiny women. you know, women. girls. no men required for that at all.
it's very similar finding content about giant women. actually i would like to center the woman please, there could be a man yes, but the focus is on the woman thank you. it could even be two women! preferably even!
Here is a guide to hitting others. It is not about safe impact locations or how to develop picturesque bruising. It is about how to hit someone, and keep hitting someone, until you're both satisfied. It is how I approach hitting masochists for my own pleasure.
The first thing to note is that...
This is going to Hurt.
That fact cannot be shied away from. Pain, even for masochists, hurts. There is a tolerance to how much someone can take, and ways to engage with that tolerance. You will need to learn how each masochist takes pain, and potentially even teach them how to manage and endure it.
So you've got a paddle and a tied up piece of masochistic meat, or perhaps you're using your hand and it's bent over your knee, or perhaps it's cuffed to a cross and you've got a whip, or perhaps you've got a knife or needles or... well by now I've laboured the point enough.
How do you get the most out of your meat?
Start slow. Hit them slowly and rhythmically, building up in intensity every few hits, and when they tense too much or start struggling to breathe or can't stop themselves from making too much noise, slow down again.
Your aim is to warm up the meat so that it can get used to the pain, and once it's used to the pain you can intensify it. Climb up, drop down, and climb back up again. Vary the strike location, but remember that locations you haven't hit as much will need warming up too. The more skilfully it's done, the more you'll get to hit it.
On the subject of their breathing, tension, and noises, you'll want to pay attention to these as you hit them. As you hit them, their breathing will try to get sharp and shallow. Their muscles will try to contract to harden against the impact, and they'll make noises as reactions to your hits. Encourage them to keep their breathing steady and calm, and they'll take the hits better. Encourage them to relax so that the impact dissipates into their flesh instead of getting caught in their tension and you can hit them harder while hurting them less. Listen for moans of pleasure if they're so inclined, and encourage them to verbalise their pain, intentionally responding to pain verbally will help them endure it. Let them calm themselves between your hits, and they'll feel like they can take it and let you push them harder.
Watch how they react, but be aware that you may need to soothe or goad them. Try different things: Hold your off-hand on their shoulder so that they can brace against you. Praise them for each hit you've delivered. Tell them they can take more for you. Tease them. Rub them while they catch their breath and tell them how happy you are with them for taking it. Be verbal, but don't expect responses unless they enjoy responding. Pay attention to what helps them calm.
Once you've got the hang of these things, you can begin to play with them and challenge them: forbid them from making noise. Blindfold them so that they can't prepare for the pain. Make them watch you hit them so that they can't help but tense up in response, and play with false swings to mess with their minds. You can be cruel, because you know how it works. You know which moving parts can be shifted, and which must stay still.
Consider also what your masochist wants from being hit: some do not want to be overwhelmed, they want to be guided and hit into a meditative place where they can dissolve into the pain: intense but never too much, and then you can hit them until they're bloody and raw. Others want their pain to push right up to the edge of too much and stay there until they break. They want to cry and scream, and your challenge is to see how cathartic you can make it: break them too quickly and they might not find it satisfying, and neither will you.
And afterwards, aftercare, and you can work out what that looks like with your masochist yourselves.
Girl who puts you in immaculately well tied rope bondage leaving you unable to move at all and then throws you into bed and tells you that you're her plushie now.
Having some cute thing with her hands tied behind her back, a gag in, bent over with her soft little tits hanging down with weighted clamps on her nipples, forced to buck her hips to fuck either a single ring of my thumb and forefinger, or fucking herself onto just one of my fingers until she finally manages to cum with no other stimulation other than me encouraging her to keep going and the swinging weights on her tits
Collab with my friend @redthotchilipapers who did the art for Earth Angel! Also check her out on bluesky @/chilipapers. Happy 8/8 Vore Day!
Rating: Explicit
Status: Completed
Word count: 7.4k
Dynamic: F/m
Summary: A 'what if' the US government experimented with creating super soldiers during the Vietnam War—half-human, half-creature, all giant.
Weeks into a secret jungle operation, Daniel is lost behind enemy lines, separated from his squad and hopelessly alone—except for one. The 26ft tall Sera has ever been kind and supportive, but as starvation breathes down their necks, danger closing in, Daniel begins to understand: he's pack bonded with a man-eating monster, before either knew she could do it.
Or, what if we fucked with biblical undertones in a muddy battlefield after I ate a guy in front of you. Horny style. In the very real and horrible Vietnam War. As you do.
TW for violence and injury and yk. war
The jungle was dense.
It was not enough the trees and the underbrush were packed so tight and so thick, it was hard to shoulder through—but the air, too, was dense. The swell of it swam with warm, heavy humidity, so thick, Daniel might’ve had a mind to take a blade to it. He was not that mad yet.
It held sweat against his skin and pressed the straps of his rucksack deeper into his shoulders. The sway of the bag followed the uneven limp of his right foot; bound and bandaged beneath his boot. They’d done the best they could after seven weeks in the jungle had eaten their supplies; settling to keep the bullet lodged between bone and muscle after Benard dubbed it too risky to remove in the improper environment, with improper tools.
Can't chance the tendons and ligaments—or worse, the nerves, the medic had said as he scratched the whiskers on his chin. God help you with infection. Just keeping it clean’ll already be hard enough.
Daniel shifted his weight to tug the slipping strap of his rifle onto his shoulder and leaned against his improvised walking stick. It had been a full two days on the move since he was shot, and though he was no stranger to injury or warfare, keeping time with the rest of the squad ate away at Daniel viciously. They had little for pain killers, and he had to use them conservatively. It was the sort of agonizing liability no one wanted to point out, but he was sure that even exhausted, they all recalled Sargent Sullivan's warning at the top of the covert expedition: any man who falls behind, is left behind.
He’d felt it coming, a pull in his chest, but in the chaos following the ambush not twelve hours past, Daniel found himself left behind. The rest of the squad had pressed forward among the thick trees and the tight underbrush and the dense air and disappeared into the jungle. All but one other.
Up ahead, the giant brushed short, shaggy black hair from her forehead and turned to peer at him from where she'd been pulling back big, leafy branches. Though at twenty-six feet, Sera was still only a fraction of the trees' shadows, it shouldn't be natural that someone so towering could slip so easily through their branches and vines, unseen and unheard, but there was little natural about her. Project Nephilim, she called it. The experimental practice of stretching people into mammoths; half soldier, half creature. Daniel knew so little about it, he didn't even know if they made any others, or if they would have been born in a hospital or a lab. And it seemed she knew just as little; only that she was assigned to their squad. Their guardian angel.
“You're sure I can't carry you, Prophet?” Sera asked, honey-yellow eyes resting on his face with half-amusement, half-pity. The name, she’d picked up from Hugh and Thomas and all the rest, after he’d been dubbed a lucky guess. He was good at predicting things. Who got called out for pushups and extra laps in bootcamp. How many would fail the mud crawl. When it was time for a surprise search of the barracks. If it would rain or shine on their first mission. If it was better to bet high or low in blackjack, or whose face was a lie in poker.
Daniel tried to hide his weariness when he looked up, weighing his next muddy steps and the strain of answering. His neck flushed. He couldn’t bring himself to admit it would be nice. “You’ve enough to carry.”
Sera scoffed, but was true; the giant carried most of the squad's supplies, in a large rucksack on her back or tucked into her many pockets. And he’d seen the way she’d slowed in recent weeks, the creeping gauntness in her cheeks. His own rucksack with most of their rations had become much lighter, and Sullivan said they weren't nearly halfway through their expedition. After weeks of derailment by booby traps and the changing flow of hostile forces, even bombs—though who dropped them, he couldn’t say—Daniel still didn’t know what the objective of their mission was. Nor did he know where their end destination was located, only that it was deep behind enemy lines.
He hadn't the heart to say it, but he was starting to understand they wouldn't have enough food for a return journey. Not if they intended to feed Sera along with them. He'd rearranged the rations, asked Raymond and Hugh to help hunt and forage, but truthfully, in war, there was very little. Now, consumed by the dark green of the jungle, the pair might not find the rest of the squad at all. Grimly, it was not a chance Daniel wanted to make a prediction for.
“C’mon, you’re not that heavy,” Sera grinned. The smile unveiled long fangs, but they had never been unfriendly in his direction. Her face was framed by metal, implanted in her chin, cheekbones, and her forehead like a third eye, and it glinted in the struggling sunlight.
Daniel huffed and shuffled to catch up.
They emerged in a small clearing, littered with dried leaves pressed into the mud that squished beneath her clawed feet. A titan of a tree had fallen, the mass of twisted roots exposed like a tangled shield. Its loss in the canopy hadn’t yet been replaced, providing a window to the turbulent gray sky far, far above. Here, it was clear how towering and equipped Sera was. From head to toe, she was clothed in green and brown tactical gear, custom-made with buttoned flaps in the back for her large, webbed wings. Like her arms and legs, they began the same pale shade as her flesh, then turned charcoal gray and finally black at the tips. She kept her wings tightly folded beside her rucksack while she wove between the trees, occasionally using the sharp tips to cut her way through. They didn’t have a helmet for her, but none would cooperate with her horns, grown inward towards the other. Much like a halo, Daniel always thought.
Her barbed tail twitched. “Let’s rest here.” Sera knelt, shooting him a look as Daniel opened his mouth to protest. “I don’t care what Sarge says, he’s not here. You need to take the weight off your foot.”
“I can’t,” Daniel fumbled for words. “If I give it relief, it’ll just—I don’t know how I’ll get going again.”
Sera sat in front of the tree roots, draping arms around knees and tilting her head encouragingly. Her eyes were so fond it hurt. “You will. You’ll go better if you give it a breath. Here, sit.” She offered him a hand. It was as long as a door was wide, spindly even by her own proportions, with each protruding claw the size of his own hand.
He took it tenderly.
It didn’t waver once as Daniel leaned heavily, setting down his walking stick and letting the rifle and rucksack fall from his shoulders. The shed in weight made him feel so light, he could fly. Gently, Sera guided him to a spot on the jungle floor where he could sit across from her. He tried not to touch his wounded boot as he sat. It should’ve been a nastier shot, he knew, and would’ve been, if he hadn’t felt it coming as soon as Sera paused to listen. Lot of good it did him, now.
"You're too good to me, Angel." Daniel sighed, adjusting himself with caution. He fixed his hair under his helmet. It was as black as his eyes, straight and fine and clean-cut, or at least it was seven weeks ago. He didn’t want to think about the sweaty mess Sera’d see if he took the helmet off. Her hair looked as pretty as it always did. He fiddled with his dog tags for comfort, fingertips running over the first engraved line, Nakahara. Flimsy fingers abandoned it to fish out his canteen. Water, at least, was easy to come by.
Sera nudged his rucksack with her foot. "You should eat, too."
Daniel faltered, putting his canteen away. “I'm alright. I'll eat with the rest of the squad. Lord knows they'll be hungry.”
“That’s ridiculous, aren't you hungry?”
Daniel licked his lips. “No,” he lied.
“Hm.” Her honeyed-eyes watched him, then she dropped it.
They quieted, listening to the jungle that itself was never quiet. It always buzzed, with crawling bugs and swarming mosquitos, filling the ground and air, and there was the water, too, passed from leaf to leaf in drips between frequent rains. A deep growl came then, and Daniel swivelled, hand on his pistol—
“Oh.”
He relaxed, feeling stupid.
“Sorry,” Sera said sheepishly, arm slinking over her stomach.
“You should eat,” Daniel insisted. He could cut back his own rations again—they'd all have to, for her. It was an easy sacrifice.
She eyed his rucksack with deep temptation. Then her long ear twitched; her horned head tilted.
He tensed again. “What'cha hear, Angel?”
“M'not sure,” she murmured, staring at the jungle beyond the fallen titan’s trunk.
“People?” Daniel asked eagerly, but he already knew. He could feel it.
“Think so,” her head dipped. “Can't be sure it's friendlies.”
“It’s our forces, I know it.” Daniel grabbed his walking stick and hoisted himself to his feet. Sera got to hers, too, but remained crouched.
A shot whizzed from beyond the fallen tree, just—
Daniel flinched as a fleshy shield flared in front of him. Metal fell to the spongy ground with a soft plink. Keeping her wing extended, Sera tossed him an alarmed look and he scuttled behind the mass of tangled roots.
Yells bounced back and forth, but they weren’t in a foreign tongue.
“Do you see him?” A voice carried.
“Do you see it?”
This wasn’t right. Is there another squad on a covert mission? The only answer was a rain of gunfire on the clearing. Bullets shredded leaves, embedded in bark, and rolled off webbed, inhuman skin. Daniel buried himself in tree roots. Sera braced herself behind her wing.
“We are American soldiers from the 3rd Platoon, Company E, Enoch Squad!” She shouted. “Ceasefire!”
An object sailed through the air. Eyes wide, Sera smacked the projectile with the flat of her wing. It flew clean back to its thrower and exploded with a shrill screech. Sera snarled. Protecting her face, she charged the underbrush. Gunfire flared. The snap of wings opening sliced the air. A scream echoed, cut short.
Then, footsteps behind him. Daniel turned to the right side of the tangled roots, pistol ready. He checked his rounds—full at seven. Seven bullets. He prayed he wouldn't use them. Still, he eyed his rifle on the ground. He shook his head. “We’re friendlies, don’t shoot!”
There was a pause, then the footsteps rushed faster.
“Shit,” Daniel hissed, letting go of his walking stick to sink to a pained kneel.
A soldier burst into the clearing only a dozen feet away, rifle raised. He was tall and white, brown hair, blue eyes. He spotted Daniel and fired. He ducked and the soldier’s bullet found a tree root. Daniel’s bullet found his neck. The man dropped like a sack of rocks.
The body was dressed in an olive green jungle fatigue, with a matching pair of pants and a camo helmet. Above the breast pocket, a black patch with big, bold yellow lettering read: U.S. ARMY.
Daniel’s heart fell to his feet. So it was true. It happened before, that the other men doubted him. All the same, aren’t you? They’d say. No, I’m an American, he’d insist, but it never mattered, not really. It had been like it was in a classroom, organized in neat rows of desks instead of marching lines, except now… Daniel fixed his grip on his pistol. Somewhere behind him, Sera snarled, loud and angry like a tiger.
Maybe it’s her, he realized, but it did not make him feel better. Whatever the reason, more footsteps barrelled towards the clearing. They were closer than the first. Daniel grit his teeth as he kneeled to peek between roots at the tree trunk. Three soldiers crouched, rifles ready.
Daniel managed one clear shot, then slammed himself into the dirt-packed roots as bullets pelted the fallen tree. Dirt crumbled into his hair and down his shirt. The smell stung the inside of his nose, damp and musty and dead. Leaning back out, Daniel’s next shot missed. The following found a mark, though it was not a killer.
With a yelp, the wounded soldier half-fell, half-lunged into the clearing, landing awkwardly on his gun as hands sprawled to catch himself. The man clutched at the bloody stain spreading across his ribcage, face red with fear, and Daniel ended his suffering. The next soldier stumbled to skirt around the body. It was all he needed. Bang.
One bullet. One bullet left.
Though the sounds of battle raged behind him, Daniel couldn't see Sera. He eyed his rifle, lying in the middle of the clearing with his rucksack. He'd never make it. The other soldiers’ rifles, though, if he could just crawl—
Two men shouldered through the underbrush at his ten o’clock. The first was still scanning the tree line as Daniel’s final bullet lodged itself in his face.
He dropped his useless pistol as the second soldier turned on his heel and sprung on him. All Daniel could do was dive for his walking stick and whip it like a baseball bat at the soldier's rifle. The gun tore free from his hands and clattered to the ground. The other soldier reached for it. In a panic, Daniel slammed the soldier again. This time, the stick slammed him across the face. He struck again. Then again. And again. Blood pooled from the man’s mouth, his nose. Something crunched, and the soldier did not move again.
Panting, Daniel dropped his walking stick, feeling for the man’s rifle.
Leaves crunched, around the left side of the tree.
No, no, no, no.
Daniel fumbled for it faster, glancing over his shoulder as a bloodied man in an American uniform stepped into the clearing. The man raised his rifle—and the heavens crashed down upon him.
The gun splintered to pieces beneath her. The soldier screamed. His blond hair was bloody. The whites of his eyes were wide as Sera crouched on him, clawed feet digging into his shoulders. She bared teeth, exposing a mouth like a black mamba. A growl reverberated through her, fierce and protective as she lifted the little soldier to her face. Then something more gleamed in her yellow eyes, and it struck Daniel it was the same deep temptation she’d held for the rations.
Sera snarled again, fangs dripping with saliva, and a long, black tongue dragged over the soldier's face.
Daniel jerked in surprise, but he knew what came next—claws would tear flesh and snap bone. He had never gotten used to it, the brute strength, the feverish, aggressive speed—he almost looked away. But Daniel was frozen, heart pulsating so hard he could feel it in his toes, as suddenly half the soldier was in her mouth. The little man flailed, screams muffled as he kicked and writhed. Sera nearly looked pained—lips taught, brows drawn, eyes closing. She shuddered. Then, her shoulders relaxed. She flung her head back. Gravity grabbed the soldier and dragged him down with a tug. Then came the swallow. His shoulders slipped into her throat as it bulged with his shape.
Thighs disappeared into her mouth, then knees. Sera drew in calves and feet, tongue snaking around an ankle to pull him in. Then black lips closed. The final swallow was loud and damning. Fingers pressed to her neck, following the bulge down, down, down, out of sight, and then as it resurfaced to fill out at her stomach.
Her stomach.
Dizziness overcame Daniel.
A clawed hand pressed the large lump closer through gear and skin, triggering a wave of renewed thrashing from the person inside. Then, her hand returned desperately to her lips, still wet with blood and drool, before fanning out as Sera hunched on four limbs, searching.
His head still spinning, Daniel stumbled back.
Eyes flashed as Sera whipped to face him, tense on her haunches to pounce—
Recognition washed over her face.
“Prophet,” she gasped, like she could scarcely believe it was him, though they’d been together only moments ago. Gaze dropping, her hand went to her throat, a ghost of before. She faltered after reaching her collarbone, but it was undeniable what waited at the end of that path. Sera looked to him again. “Prophet—”
Her ear twitched. She lunged.
Daniel screamed. Giant hands snatched him from the jungle floor. He kicked against her, but it was futile. Sera pulled his chest against her and slammed her back to the tree’s tangle of exposed roots. Wings sprung forward and the world darkened. Her hand wrapped around his face, clamping over his mouth. Shouting against it, Daniel gripped her finger to pry her off, straining to bite when his heart stopped at a distant noise—gunfire.
Fighting, somewhere in the jungle.
Realization dawned on him—Sera was doing what she was meant to do. She was keeping him alive.
Daniel’s resistance died.
Sera was still. Very, very still; listening intently. Against him, the wall of her torso moved, kneading fiercely into his squished front—the other soldier. He’d looked so small in her hands, but he was just as tall as Daniel. Curled up inside her, he hadn’t given up his resistance. The incessant clawing at stomach walls shoved Daniel—pushing and prodding and begging and screaming—and was suddenly overcome by the gurgling growl of acid.
Is that it? He wondered, horrified.
A strong, frantic kick hit him in the ribs and Daniel started, but Sera didn’t so much as flinch. He clutched her finger tight, trembling. Praying.
Daniel wasn’t sure how long they stayed like that, it could have been a minute—it felt like hours. It was dark, and the fleshy skin of her wings reminded him too much of stomach walls, muffling the outside world while trapping the sound of breathing; close and loud, but over it all his pulse was deafening, and Daniel could almost imagine it was hers, echoing all around the victim inside her. The pressure of humidity squeezed him. The heat of her skin roasted him. The sweat seeping through his clothes had him drowning—if her grip of his face didn’t suffocate him first. It was too much. Too much. Daniel had to close his eyes, trying to calm himself; trying to block it all.
Finally, Sera furled back her wings and the cloudy sky blinded him. She removed her hand from his face to set him down. Hyperventilating, Daniel stumbled away, his injured foot forcing him to his knees as he nearly tripped over his walking stick. With wide eyes, he moved away from the fallen bodies as he scrambled back, but it was clear he was not going anywhere fast. Even if he could run, Daniel didn’t doubt Sera could catch him.
Her eyes didn’t look so honey-yellow anymore. They were brighter now, sharper. There was a new alertness, a sluggish haze lifted from her gaze. She was vivid. Vibrant. Now her eyes were yellow like caution tape and warning signs. Yellow like danger.
“Daniel,” Sera breathed his real name like a plea, like she was the vulnerable of the two.
“I—” He swallowed hard. “You ate—” He covered his mouth.
“Please, I swear—”
“You ate him.”
“I know.” She whispered. “I didn’t know I could do that. But I couldn’t let him get you, and I’ve been… I’ve just been so hungry, I didn’t think, I just… wanted…”
She stopped herself. Hands found buttons, shifting gear to pull up her jungle fatigue. Her stomach was so unnaturally low and swollen, Daniel realized her organs must have shifted in accommodation. It would have looked like a baby, but it was twisted and wrong. It was not the look of new life. The shape of upside-down legs pressed against the top of her stomach, along with arms and what might be a torso and head. It was the outline of a full-grown man, curled up and made helpless, thrashing beneath skin for an escape he would not find.
Daniel dragged a hand over his face in loss. He knew Sera would kill, but this was different from anything he had ever seen her do. This crossed some unspoken, invisible line in the sand. This was not war. War was bullets and bombs and battalions. It was bleak and bloody, and often left him feeling it was all pointless, but it was waged by men, in a war room or a trench. It was human, with tools and troops. This, it was… animal. It was death without some greater cause, for country or principle. It was selfish and taboo and hungry. A death that brought no medals and left no body. A reminder the man in the stomach of something larger and stronger was still just meat. And so was he.
“…Daniel?”
Sera was looking at him again, but not at his face.
Confused, Daniel followed her line of sight. His face turned to wildfire. With a short shriek, he closed his legs and yanked his shirt lower to cover it, but it was too late.
Sera sank to her hands and knees. “Daniel?” Now the way she said his name was soft, curious. It only made his heart pound faster. “Are you... are you scared?”
He blinked sweat out of his eyes. There was no point lying now. “Yes,” he whispered.
She tilted her head; inquisitive, apprehensive. “But you're not... not running away?”
“I...” His gaze darted back and forth. “I guess not.”
Sera loomed as she slunk closer. The man-sized shape of her stomach swayed as she moved. Daniel stared, hyperfixed until her face was too close to ignore. He had to look up, at the towering, predatory eyes and the black mouth, large enough to swallow a man whole. She bent her head, but Daniel didn't pull away as she leaned down.
He held his breath as her hand cupped his head, pulling his helmet off. Her clawed thumb ran over the short scar across the low bridge of his nose, then trailed the long scar from jaw to cheekbone; her touch smearing blood and mud across his face. His breath released as a quiver, but Daniel forced himself to remain still as her thumb slid from cheek to mouth, tracing the cleft on the side of his upper lip.
Caution-yellow eyes searched his own soft, natural black. Daniel mustered a terrified nod. He didn’t know what was happening, whether he had just consented to being the second course, or—
Sera angled his face to hers. Bloodied lips, warm and bigger than a human head, met his skin. Her top lip covered his mouth and chin while her bottom lip settled against his neck. A kiss. She was kissing him, and it left him winded.
She pulled away only enough to murmur against his skin. “I won’t… I won’t let anyone else touch you, you hear?” He nodded. Daniel knew better than to make such promises, but he was not sure if this was kindness.
Her lips pressed another kiss, then left his mouth and face to focus on the crook of his neck. Daniel touched her chin in disbelief, feeling for where the implanted metal turned back to skin. Sera responded to his touch, leaning further into his neck. He understood, then.
Searching for more, claws ran over the buttons of his jungle fatigue. Fumbling with his belt, Daniel started unbuttoning before she could start ripping. When he peeled his shirt off his arms, Sera grinned and dipped her head, taking the hem of his undershirt between her teeth. Daniel held in an exhale as she pulled it up and over his head, leaving him bare. Her eyes gleamed. His heart hammered against his ribcage as she glued lips to his chest. This is really happening…
Still, she needed more.
Daniel gasped at the warm, wet pass of her tongue between plasters of kisses. Curious, he leaned in to meet it. The response encouraged her to keep going, to eagerly drag the length of her tongue across his skin. He shuddered into it. Thrilled, teeth ran over his shoulder and Sera sucked down so hard, Daniel knew the skin would swell purple.
She was on him until he was wet with saliva and her lips were kissed clean. Panting like a dog, Sera trailed down his torso. There, she met his gaze. “Yes?”
“Yea—yes.” Daniel found his words. “I’m sure.”
Sera smiled, and it was almost human. She helped him pull his pants over his boots, slow and careful on his right where the bandages encased his foot. Her thumb caressed his calf, staring at his hidden wound tenderly.
A beat too long and Daniel shifted his naked hips anxiously. Sera switched her attention with a toothy grin.
“Just be gentle,” he pleaded.
She lifted a teasing brow. “Afraid I’ll bite it off?”
His spine turned cold at the idea. “Please.”
Mindful of his legs, Sera lowered onto her elbows and belly, eyes closing at the sensation for a moment.
“Does it hurt?” Daniel asked.
“No. It…” Sera closed her eyes again to soak it in. “I like it.”
Daniel shivered. He could only feel for her fingers as she opened eyes to inspect him. Sera scoffed at his reaction, but there was the half-amused look in her eyes. The other half was usually reserved; serious. Kind. Empathetic. This new other half was lustful.
Goosebumps spread across his skin as hot breath drew near. Sera braced his back with a hand. Playful, she prodded his dick with a claw. “You’ll have to tell me, is it little?”
He kicked her with his good foot. “Average, thanks.”
She laughed and pushed it against his belly to trace down its centerline. Tracing turned to rubbing. Hot breath turned to kissing. When her tongue met his dick, it was slick and seething.
“Oh, God.” Daniel panted, unable to think of anything intelligible.
Sera flattened her tongue against his lower belly, thick muscle engulfing his cock. She rubbed it back and forth, back and forth, back and forth—then took his dick into her mouth.
Sweet Jesus. And Daniel thought it was seething before. The heat engulfed him, spreading up his torso, down his legs, flushing under his neck. This is what that poor bastard must’ve felt, all over. He pushed himself past the smooth inside of lips, to her tongue. Sera gave his cock a welcoming lick. He had to brace himself against the force of it. Experimentally, she stuck her tongue further and he jumped.
Sera raised her brows as if to ask, Bad?
Daniel shook his head. “Feels—nice.” Nice was an understatement. He hadn’t had anything resembling pleasure in almost two months, and now it was unbearable.
Her lips turned up in a daring smile. Tongue curling, drool pooled between his thighs as she licked from balls to tip, then sucked all of him.
Sweltering breath painted his skin. Lightly, Sera pressed a kiss to the head then returned to his thighs, starved; looking to taste as much of him as she could; to get her fill. Teeth pulled at skin. Tongue folded in on itself, then curled around his leg. Desperate, Daniel picked up where she’d left him, fingers wrapping around his dick, pulling it while she savaged him before his eyes. Her own eyes gleamed in approval. Then she took his cock in her mouth again, hand and all, honing her focus on his head while he stroked his shaft. Sera wriggled her tongue, trying to get at his slit, taste buds swirling. Her tongue pulsated, hotter than hell. The heat was incredible. Sera was incredible.
Daniel shrieked in surprise as with an impatient growl, she pulled his hand from his dick and pinned both above his head with her thumb. Her pace increased, alternating between sucking and running her tongue against his dick, his hips—less focused on just the tip now, instead she buried her nose against his chest and worked hungrily, desperately, like she was thirsty and he was the first and only water to touch her lips.
Daniel trembled, then tensed. His arms jerked against her thumb. His hips twisted, tilting to slide his dick against her tongue at just the right angle. His belly turned concave. His legs squirmed. Eyes closed in pleasure. Every muscle stood at attention, dick sinking into her mouth while Sera seemingly tried to suck out his soul. And God, he’d let her. He’d let her.
Finally, her pace slowed to swallow the taste of him. Sera licked her lips as she let go, drawing her tongue up his stomach, stopping to kiss the spot where she’d sucked his shoulder before arriving at his face. She kissed him with a mix of fondness and force. Then again. And again. And again.
“Daniel,” she sang his name. “I’ve wanted to—to kiss you since we met. You’re just so cute. You try to look so serious, sitting there brooding, but you’re so pretty when you laugh. And I’ve wanted to… mm…” Sera sucked his shoulder again. “I’ve wanted to touch you for… for weeks, just to hold you, even, but… always people around. Still, I couldn’t have imagined… this…”
She went down his chest, then up his neck, across his face—her tongue wedged against his lips. Daniel opened his mouth, nearly gagging on the slippery muscle as she greedily tried to work her way in, like it really could fit. He choked. Sera pulled her tongue back with a loud, wet noise, pressing him between hand and tongue with passion. Teeth dragged over his skin and Daniel couldn’t help but whine. His vision swam.
“Okay—okay,” he sputtered. “Let me up.”
The tongue ran over his face again; hot, and thick, and wet; and Daniel could have sworn he felt every taste bud.
“Let me up.” He gasped.
Sera paused, eyes considering. The look set his heart racing again; she didn’t have to. There was nothing he could do to make her.
“Sera,” his tone turned warning, as if he had any leverage, anything to make her respect his word. “Get off me.”
Eyes widened. She let go and straightened so fast, he was dizzy again. Wings curled in. She wouldn’t look at him as he sat up.
“I’m sorry, I—” She rubbed her face. Quietly, like the words had to be pulled painfully from her, she admitted, “I don’t—I can’t… lose… I can’t lose you.”
Daniel stared at her long and hard, at her face, at her stomach, still squirming with a victim inside, at her inhuman qualities—horns curled like a broken halo, blackened limbs, prolonged hands with prolonged claws, sharp wings and a barbed tail—and thought of the qualities he couldn’t see—fangs like knives, a long tongue, once-honey eyes. He thought of the way she’d starved, even as gauntness started to consume her, ever vigilant over their odd little troupe.
“Lay down.”
Now she looked at him. “What?”
“Lay down.” Daniel shuffled on his knees to her. “Please. Let me… let me show you you still have me.” Uncertain, Sera shifted to recline onto her elbows, knees tilted to the side to peer at him. He shuffled closer, daring to trace hands up her calves through trousers. Daniel looked up through his brows. “Help me get these off?”
“You’re serious?”
“Well, I might have a hard time managing it myself,” he said with a smile.
Sera blinked. “Alright.”
A minute of rustling fabric and he was holding in a breath at the sight of her—all of her. The thickness of her arms and her toned legs. The moles dotting her pale shoulders and decolletage. The slight lopsidedness of her boobs. Preportionally, he supposed they were small to her, but still bigger than any Daniel had ever seen.
Her stomach was still alive and wriggling, when he spread her legs. His lips quivered as Daniel kissed the inside of her thighs, but he did not miss the way Sera was already wet, waiting. Her fingers fidgeted with the ground as he drew close.
“Relax,” Daniel coaxed.
“You relax,” she bit.
He snickered, settling between her thighs—the human shape of her stomach looked like a mountain from down below. Daniel had to tear his eyes away to continue to press kisses to her skin, feeling it grow hot and feverish under his touch.
He parted her labia, tracing it like she’d traced him. Her chest shuddered with a sigh. Her thighs unclenched; her knees dropped a little. In turn, Daniel mapped the details of her, committing every bit to memory. He wasn’t as aggressive as she, but he made sure to use plenty of pressure as he circled her clit—he’d heard it called a rose bud before, but this was more a rose in full bloom. Amazed, he leaned in and gave it a kiss. Then a second. And a third. He couldn’t stop himself. Soon he was using tongue, sucking and swiping and swirling it, unable to get enough of the taste of it. Sera made an appreciative groan.
He found the base of her entrance and she found the back of his head. Claws ran along his scalp. Daniel peered up, but her face was eclipsed by her belly, its struggling weight hanging above him; so he closed his eyes and just felt her, stretching out his fingers as he plunged his arm into her pussy. Thick, ribbed muscle met him, slick already coating his shoulder and rolling down his torso. It was hotter than her mouth, somehow, and far more consuming. Daniel reached as far as he could, and still did not run out of room. He doubted he ever would.
Fingers curled experimentally and Sera groaned happily, pressing his head against her clit so fiercely he had to dip his chin to breathe. To pull his arm in and out, Daniel braced himself with the other, finding purchase just above him—her belly. The skin burned him, like he’d stuck his hand on a still-hot stove, too hot to touch, and he yanked his hand away. The mass moved in response. Stupidly, Daniel touched it again. His hand tingled, so hot it felt cold, and then his skin adjusted. The warmth spread through him. Wide-eyed, Daniel gave the bulging belly a morbidly curious shove. Sera moaned. The man inside her screamed. An idea struck him.
Her catch kicked to the right. Daniel could feel it through his palm, and curled his submerged arm to follow. Her stomach jostled as the man kicked again to the right, then the left—Daniel imitated it. Sera clenched around his arm with a sharp gasp.
“Good?” He asked against her skin.
“Good,” she trilled, rolling hips to meet his bicep. Her fingers flexed along his scalp. “More.”
He obeyed. When she clenched down on his arm, her stomach squeezed, and the struggling grew even more wild. Daniel could hear him, the man digesting in her stomach, screaming and cursing and praying as he was drowned by acid. It gurgled and groaned from all the movement, jostling its prey.
“Oh God, Daniel,” Sera moaned. “I’m so full. I’m so full.” Her spine arched and her hand squeezed his head. “More. Fill me up.”
He obeyed. Face hot, crushed between pussy and palm, Daniel obeyed. He flexed his arm, rolling it, raking fingers along the ribbed muscle. Her hips bucked, tilting to meet his tongue as he dragged it over her clit, but still, it wasn’t enough.
Sera pressed thighs to his shoulders and with the roll of her pelvis, ground his face against her cunt. His nose squished against her clit; his tongue; his chin; his nose again. She was wet. So, so wet, it stuck to his chest and his stomach and dripped down his legs—she was so wet and her grip so tight, Daniel was afraid he might suffocate or God help him, drown, but it didn’t matter. Only this. Only her legs trembling against his shoulders; her hand gripping the root of his hair; her hips rocking against his tongue; her stomach, stretched with struggling as his arm stretched out her cunt.
All these long weeks of hell, and it was his turn to care for her. To make her tremble and shake and forget it all for this moment. To make her full.
Daniel twisted his arm against a sensitive spot and her hips jerked. Her prey flailed. With his free hand, he squeezed it. With his other, he made a fist. Daniel dug knuckles into the spot and kept a steady pace on her clit with his mouth.
Sera screamed like an animal. Her grip tightened until he saw black. His lungs blazed. His arm locked in place, hooked in just the right spot. Sera shook against it so furiously, Daniel thought for a moment she must have ripped it out its socket.
Her thighs dropped away. She yanked his face free from her cunt and with a harsh gasp, Daniel sucked in the jungle’s hot, sticky humidity. His arms relaxed. He pulled his right out of her, covered in slick and still blisteringly hot. His left arm rested on her stomach, rising and falling sharply with her own panting, but beneath the skin was still. Exhausted, he rubbed his face against her thigh to get the slick off enough to breathe properly.
Sera leaned to find his waist, pulling him over her belly to rest atop her chest. Now, finally, Daniel could see her face again. Her neck and cheeks were a deep red. Sweat beaded across her forehead and upper lip. Her brows were drawn and her eyes half-lidded, but their color blazed brighter than ever. She traced his cheek while they caught their breath. Daniel blinked rapidly, still unable to wrap his mind around it. This is real.
She recovered faster than he. Keeping him to her chest, Sera dragged herself to her feet, scanning the trees; listening with her swiveling ears. Daniel could only cling to her. With her long arm and huge hand, she scooped up everything worth bothering—rucksacks, clothes, guns, ammunition—then with a quick shh, launched herself into the sky.
Daniel nearly choked on his tongue, digging nails into her with a shriek. The clearing of the fallen titan tree and its scattered bodies dropped down, down, down. Clawed feet settled on a wide branch in the jungle canopy, some hundred feet above the ground. Daniel clung to her very tightly then.
“Sera?” He whimpered.
She turned his head to her shoulder while she hung their effects on smaller branches. “Don’t look down.”
She used large, wet leaves to wipe them both down best as able, then offered his clothes. While his heart had long dropped to the jungle floor, Daniel was cold up here, shivering and wet a hundred feet in the sky. He took his clothes with trepidation. “Don’t you dare drop me, Angel.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it.”
Hands stabilized him as he dressed. Then Sera sat him with his back against the huge trunk and took her turn dressing. She scooped him up when she was done, wordlessly settling him into her lap. Her arms hugged him close, like he was a living teddy bear. His face rested against her belly, still full below him, but it only moved now with the groans of a happy stomach. Rain started to drizzle through the canopy and Sera wrapped her wings overhead like a tent. It pattered and rolled down the webbed skin. Still, the jungle hummed.
“Why are we in a tree?” Daniel murmured finally.
Sera pet his hair. “To rest until nightfall. Then, we fly.”
“Fly?” He lifted his head.
She nodded. “We’ll find the others faster that way. It’s safer than travelling by foot, and gives yours a break.”
“But…” Sera had only flown a few short times on their mission, always at night, and only for a few miles to scout ahead. It was true the giant could see in the dark, and her hearing could pin a man if he so much as sighed a kilometer away, but she had never carried anyone, and Daniel had no idea how long they may be in the air.
“Don’t argue with me.”
He raised a brow and pushed himself up to look her in the eye. “Because you’ll eat me next, is that it?”
“Yes, I’m sure you’ll be very filling.” Sera scoffed.
Daniel watched his hands sink into her belly beneath his body weight. “Is he?”
She paused. “...Yes. I haven’t been this full since… since we started—maybe… maybe ever.”
“The rations,” Daniel said slowly. “There was never a time they would have been enough, was there?”
Her expression was long and hard. “No. I don’t think there was.”
He looked down, fiddling with an over-sized button on her shirt. “Perhaps Project Nephilim never intended for you to share.” He said quietly, settling his head back against her belly. “Maybe you were always meant to hunt. And we never thought to question it.”
Daniel thought of the nights they spent under the towering canopy. Sera often slept in the trees, but when it rained, she used her wings like a huge umbrella to keep the group dry, as she did for him now. On their long hikes, she listened to Hugh tell his ridiculous stories, the ones from bootcamp and high school before that. When they made camp, she sat with Raymond and learned to play jacks, though all the pieces were too small for her hands. She disabled trip wires and land mines with Thomas, and rounded all the men for Sargent Sullivan in the morning. She often took up the rear, rose first and slept last, even when she did not have the night watch. She never complained when Daniel gave her her rations, though he could only give her the same as any man. He’d give her half of his as often as he could spare, but even then…
They were feeding sweet grasses to a monster. A monster that took them as her own.
“Sera, if… when we find the squad… we shouldn’t mention this.”
“You mean that I ate a man, or that we—”
“Neither.” He burrowed his cheek into her shirt. “Just… for now. Let’s just find them first. We’ll figure out how to explain your appetite later. As for… us, we’re not supposed to have relations.”
Her arms tightened their grip. “Not supposed to, but…?”
Daniel looked up at her. “We’re not supposed to be attacked by our own men, either. There are worse codes to break.” He grinned despite himself. “Did you mean what you said, wanting to touch me?”
Sera gave him a sheepish smile, eyes warm. Not quite honey-warm, but warm. “Every word.”
Daniel shimmied his way to her face. He took it between his hands, fingers so small compared to her chin as he cupped it.
“Prophet?”
He bowed his head to her lips, nuzzling his brow against the soft skin. Her breath ruffled his hair as her lips parted.
“Daniel?”
He replied with a kiss of her lower lip. Tracing her skin, he kissed her upper lip, too, then desperately all over; his turn to be unable to get his fill. Daniel peered between her still-parted lips and caught a glimpse of the absolute darkness beyond. He thought he saw the white of fangs, then the darkness closed, and enormous lips enveloped his face. Sera’s hand wrapped around his shoulders, clutching him like she also couldn’t believe his touch.
The rain stopped just as night fell. They gathered their supplies, with Sera strapping her rucksack to her front. Daniel buckled on his helmet and she turned away, crouched to let him clamber onto her back. As he secured himself, Sera readied her wings; her massive, clawed wings. They beat twice, and the pair were in the air. Another three, and the howling rustle of branches, and they were above the canopy. The dark, leafy-green sea stretched endlessly below. It seemed to swallow the whole world. Above, pale moonlight fluttered through the ever-present veil of clouds over the heavens.
Burying his face into her shirt, Daniel inhaled deeply against the chill night wind as Sera soared. He didn’t know what she was, but he wanted to be hers.
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