Sheltered from the storm

Hiding behind a blanket of grey, the sky saw fit to let loose yet another torrent of heavy rain to the tired people below.

A fine mist formed over the asphalt roads and the cold winds of autumn added to the almost funereal atmosphere choking the town at present.

Most people saw fit to stay indoors, while a few daring souls hurriedly jogged by with hoods feebly failing to keep them dry for one errand or another. A few cars would pass by, cutting through the mist which swirled and mixed with the fumes left behind, it's passengers safe from the lancing cold that beat harmlessly against the metallic frame.

Away from the quiet roads and onto a quieter, but no less wetter, forest path a young man in a deep blue hoodie grumbled to himself as he trudged through the shortcut, keeping as close to the treeline which offered a more natural roof to protect him for the elements.

Fucking rain...

Only moments before the constant torrents that plagued the country seemed to let up briefly and the young man Quinton thought to head to the local One Stop for what was meant to be a brief and simple grocery run.

Armed with only a thin hoodie and a scarf, the young man was caught unawares by the roaring rainfall as he walked back, bag of milk in hand.

He took a side road familiar to him that lead to a patchwork of brown and gold juxtaposed against the metropolitan monochrome, leaping over a discarded fence that walled off the area but no one bothered to fix.

A trail of dirt worn into existence by several hundred passerbys over the years with the same mindset as the disgruntled youth led deeper into a grove ringing a bare field that was popular with school football clubs and dog walkers alike.

He had taken this short cut many times after moving to the town, but this was the first time he did so under such poor conditions and he realized it wasn't the smartest bet.

The mud at his feet clung to his trainers and made an effort to drag him down as he passed and the trees overhead did a poor job of keeping the droplets at bay for long.

He sighed, the sound lost amidst the downpour's clamour, and shifted walking just off the side of the trail, closer to the treeline and along piles of wayward leaves at the end of their lives.

"Fucking rain..." he muttered to himself.

After a moment of silence, where nature deigned not to respond to his quiet outburst, he repeated the line to himself a little louder.

"Fucking rain!"

Over and over again to fill the silence the somewhat juvenile mantra persisted. Quinton felt good about himself, he didn't mind how silly it seemed, it felt great to air his annoyance out even to no one at all.

As he walked along he noticed the roar of rain started to approach a crescendo as the weather - somehow - got worse than it was moments ago.

With the torrent bearing down on him through the skeletal trees overhead Quinton scanned around the trail to find anything that could act as shelter.

His right was a definitive no, past the trees it lead to a field with no cover at all so he turned his gaze to the left.

The trail lead towards and met up with a large hill which the treeline ringed. Though the top was crowned by it's own batch of bare branched trees, it's base was made up of clay and rock and Quinton could spy what looked like a cave built into the side of the cliff.

He sprinted towards it without a second thought, keeping his head low and his hood up, kicking up leaves as he dashed through the trees.

Fuckingrainfuckingrainfuckingrain.

He didn't think about how the cold bled through his clothes and into his body, how numb his hand felt holding the plastic bag unprotected in the storm, he just concentrated on getting to his destination as quick as he could.

The closer he got, the more the trees began to part, inviting the rain to strike their guest like sadistic hosts. Not that it mattered at this point, he was still soaked, a little more wasn't going to change anything.

By the time he reached the cave he was soaked down to the bone and could feel the cold gales bite into him even from the entrance of the cave.

He reluctantly parted from his hoodie, wringing it out while he huddled in a shivering mess watching the rain hammer down on the earth outside.

When he felt he got most of the water out of his hoodie he put it back on, jammed his hands into his armpits and huddled into as small and tight a shape as he could manage.

Whenever he felt he was conserving heat even a little bit, a gust of wind would remind him that he was freezing still. Desperate, he looked around the cave for any kind of solution. His gaze lingered deeper in the shelter, where darkness blanketed his view of the cavern but it was clear to him that it went way further in than where he currently was.

He hesitated briefly but another lashing cold breeze urged him to his feet. Leaving his groceries at the mouth of the cave he ventured deeper in, holding his still soggy hoodie as tight as humanely possible.

He was at least sure he wouldn't have to worry about wildlife, or at the very least nothing like a bear so close to civilization, but he couldn't help stay afraid as he shuffled carefully and slowly into the darkness, sticking to the sides of the cavern to avoid tripping on or bumping into something.

He bumped smack dab into a wooden post.

Crying out in shock and frustration, his voice bouncing deeper into the yawning abyss, he reached out with a hand to get an understanding of what he ran into.

He felt the sturdy but soggy texture and realized it was a wooden post. His eyes adjusting to the gloom he noticed the post extended up to the ceiling where a crossbeam fitted against it and bridged itself with a neighbouring post on the other side.

He looked past it and saw a shape resembling a second archway like this one and maybe one before that.

Iron fixtures jutted out around head level and he noted two parallel metallic sheens snaked deeper into the cavern like the tails of an industrial beast that named the depths it's den.

It was a mine.

Quinton had heard there was once many mines nearby but never cared for details. All he knew was that at some point before the Second World War they were shut down and the miners were forced out of their jobs.

It certainly fit the description of "spooky-ass abandoned mine", like the setting of a horror novel.

He had hoped he could find a lantern deeper in the cavern, something that could provide warmth but realized that even if he did, he had no means of lighting it or keeping it lit.

He focused on the cave deeper in, feeling the ceiling get lower and bearing down on him oppressively.

The mine continued further in and seemed to go further down which was more than enough for Quinton, he didn't feel desperate enough to go spelunking today.

He started to turn back, keeping a hand against the wall to keep his bearings. At least this time there was a light to give him a sense of direction.

Focusing on the grey light ahead of him, Quinton took one uncertain step into the darkness after another, reaching out with his hand towards the natural, bumpy wall.

He kept reaching out.

Into the abyss where the wall ended

His body stumbled into a hole in the wall and he could feel it slope down deeper into the earth rather than see it. He flailed wildly to catch himself and his hand bounced off the mouth of the hole.

A sharp jolt of pain raced up his forearm but he managed to hold onto the wall. But between momentum carrying him backwards and the numbness of his fingers Quinton inevitably fell into the gaping void, screaming all the way down.

------------------------------------

He was deposited onto cold, hard floor, feeling sore all over.

He sat up after a brief, shocked respite groaning in pain, taking in his surroundings as he did.

Though there really wasn't much to take in so to speak, the cavern was darker than the mine and the shapeless gloom offered nothing that could help him identify the layout of where he currently was.

He stood up, finding the ceiling was low enough that he was forced to remain hunched over as he walked, all thanks to a sudden bump on the head as his skull greeted the roof.

He moved back to where he came from, fumbling through the dark until her reached the hole.

Unlike the walls surrounding it, which were course, rough and jagged to a disturbing degree, the tunnel itself felt smooth to the touch, like someone or something had carved out a large portion of solid rock with a giant ice cream scooper.

This however made it difficult to get a grip, and any attempt to climb back up could only be called admirable but pathetic.

After a few more failed attempts, Quinton bitterly accepted his defeat and, judging that there must have been at least another way back up, faced the darkness with reluctant steps forward.

He held his arms out and fumbled his way to the wall of the cavern, once he could ascertain where the edges of the void he was in he could follow it around until he - with all hope he could muster - find a way out.

He didn't dare linger on the dreaded thought that there was no way out of the cavern.

He shuffled along on uncertain feet through the malefic darkness, shapeless shadows loomed all around him in the onyx coffin he found himself in. With his hand running tentatively along the surface of the stone wall, jagged yet smooth like a sculpture of warped glass, Quinton ringed the large area until at least his hand reached into the void feeling nothing.

Making a decision that it was best to stick to the right, Quinton nervously followed the newly available route deeper into the darkness.

Though Quinton never once considered himself a claustrophobic person, he couldn't help but feel a spark of panic as the corridor narrowed and pressed in around him.

He was quite a ways in when he felt his shoulders brush against the sharp, jagged edges of his stone coffin, closing in around him like the hungry jaws of a patient beast. A little further and he was forced to twist his body sideways or risk being stuck, or cut by, the hostile claws of the cavern walls.

The oppressive corridor bit into and clawed at his body under his hoodie and once or twice he winced at the sharp feeling poking at him. It was a while long under those conditions before Quinton reached out with his hand to grasp open air.

Gripping the serrated lips of the corridor walls he pulled himself out of the tight space and tumbled into...more darkness.

Excellent.

He remembered hearing an old story that if you were ever stuck in a labyrinth the best method to escaping was to stick with one side and keep going.

He wasn't sure if there was any structure to the caves he found himself in, much less whether he could call it a labyrinth, but he found it more comforting to wander around the darkness with his hand on the wall.

He pressed on into nothing, some caverns had a distinct shape to their structure while others had the same circular shape. Some were large, open areas that he could tell stretched high above him while others where little more than crawl spaces that forced him to his knees.

The caverns and their connecting passages lead deeper into the earth, looped back on themselves and banked upwards in a complicated map of interconnected tunnels that seemingly lead to nowhere.

Quint tried to avoid the caverns that lead downwards but he eventually came upon areas that just ultimately came to dead ends, forcing him to back track.

His head spun keeping track of his position.

He always reckoned himself to be great with directions, always able to remember where he came from and find his location on a map from small landmarks.

But here, he was lost, with no idea of where to go.

Panic gripped him the longer he went, his breath began to catch and soon he found himself breathing louder and louder, the rasp of his lungs echoing in the empty chambers, if only to comfort himself with a sound - ANY sound.

He found himself taking longer and longer pauses when in tighter spaces, controlling his breathing before pressing on, and once or twice mistakenly thought he was stuck.

His clothes had a couple of tears, his skin was also scratched by inconsistently jagged surfaces biting into him; they were like a chamber of knives pressing down on him from all sides.

Twisting in the darkness alone, Quinton felt his sanity slip further and further.

Then as he emerged from another compacted, claustrophobic corridor, he thought he spied light at the end of the cavern he emerged in.

The room was a wide straight that banked up into an incline and just over the ridge emanated a warm, amber glow like a welcome sunrise after a dismal night.

All sense and caution left him in his delirious joy and Quinton sprinted with renewed energy towards the glow.

His leg muscles burned with the ascent but he urged them to move faster, scrabbled at the ground with his hands to move faster, eventually coming over the ridge to find...more cave.

He stood there panting, scanning the cavern to find any trace of the outside but failing.

When he focused on the glow he mistook for daylight, he realized that it wasn't the outside as he had initially hoped but a large crystal, longer than his hand, impeded into the black rock.

It emitted a bright yet soft and soothing glow that compelled him to draw closer to it, like a campfire in a cold, oppressive forest.

He found himself reaching out to it without thinking.

As his palm hovered over the radiant stone, he could feel a gentle heat emanate from it's surface as if a flame had been caged inside the glass-like walls of the mysterious crystal.

He gently caressed it's surface before wrapping his fingers around the whole thing once he found his hand didn't burn upon contact.

He decided it was best to have a light as he walked and did his best to prise the glowing rock from it's place in the wall.

In spite of the fact that only the bottom part of the crystal seemed joint to the cavern wall, it remained stubbornly attached, Quinton sought out a loose stone to pound at it's base and break it free but there wasn't anything on hand. Not even a pebble.

After arduous straining that pushed his muscles to their utmost limits, Quinton felt the crystal give slightly in it's perch. He renewed his efforts more and more until, to his fortune, the crystal broke loose.

He stumbled backwards and fell to the ground, holding the crystal so tight it was like he embedded it into his own flesh.

He smiled like a tool as he looked at it. Maybe now it'd be easier to make his way through the cavern.

But that smile quickly faded as the light inside the crystal began to dull, then dim and finally died out into darkness.

He was left holding a useless rock, as black as the rest of his surroundings. He could almost cry.

After a moment's rest and a brief dealing with despair, Quint willed himself to stand up again. He found another tunnel, narrow but offering enough space to squeeze through, next to where he pried the crystal from the wall and, still gripping his prize as if hoping it would flare back to life any moment, proceeded onwards deeper into the earth.

------------------------------------

The tunnel burrowed downwards and twisted back on itself like a spiral, it was incredibly uncomfortable to navigate, made even worse by the jagged rocks clawing at him from all sides, but there was little choice in the matter.

Rocks poked into his side, tore at his legs, back, into his face - he earned several scratches from that tunnel alone.

And still it continued ever deeper.

Quint had brief visions of being stuck underground, unable to escape to the surface and starving to death in the dark or worse still, if the tunnel ended at a dead end and he was trapped in the narrow, confined space until he wasted away.

A prick at his side shook him awake and he kept moving.

It was useless to think those thoughts, just as useless as turning back in the jagged space he was stuck in.

Fucking spikes.

Yeah, that was it. Just focus on the anger. Not the fear, the fear only slowed you down, made you panic.

Just focus on all the things you hate to get through this, like you've always done.

Think of your overprotective mother and her stricter-than-the-military rules.

Think of Kyle, the man you thought was your friend only to scam you into absolute debt.

Think of your boss, your monotonous job, your monotonous life, the weather.

Fucking rain.

Blocking out the darkness and the helplessness Quinton climbed ever deeper into the abyss, every jab and every spark of pain brought with him a heightened sense of determination to reach the bottom.

And after a long, agonizing descent, Quint had reached the end, collapsing out of the tunnel into another cavern, sampling the air while his lungs were no longer constricted by the infernal shaft.

After his respite was over, he finally looked up and his breath, which had come out in droves, caught in his throat at the sight.

Crystals - much like the one he had found earlier - lined the walls and the ceiling of the cavern, illuminating the zone with a starlight sheen.

The crystals shone with a multicolour splendour: Orange, crimson, violet, deep blue, sea green, rosy pink and so many more that the lights cascaded and coalesced into an almost purer light than the sun itself could offer.

It was a magical sight, far beyond what anything on earth could offer. It was it's own world.

Quinton wandered, taking in the sight, noting more and more holes that lead into tunnels that branched off into unknown parts. Some of these tunnels decorated the higher points of the walls too, places he couldn't naturally reach on his own.

Too transfixed on his surroundings to think straight, he ended up picking a random direction and entered the tunnel.

He emerged into massive caverns one after another, each bristling with a lustrous coat of luminous crystals and equally as spellbinding a sight as the last.

He came to note that not only have the caves started growing larger now but so too have the tunnels.

It had been a while since he encountered a tunnel that ruthlessly crushed him the whole way, rather each tunnel appeared wide enough that he could outstretch both arms and barely touch the ends while extending to twice his height.

Another thing he couldn't but note was that the tunnels and caves had smoother walls and floors and he no longer dealt with jagged spines clawing at him as he passed.

It was enough to make him drop his guard and relax.

The anger that had helped him press on through the darkness and the fear that he choked on when he wandered lost had all but faded entirely.

In the back of his mind, he seemed aware of the danger of such a state, but he found he couldn't help himself.

He passed through enormous caverns wreathed in kaleidoscopic sheen one after the other, hypnotized by the beauty of the sight and the less oppressive atmosphere.

It may have been hours before he came to a stop or maybe it was simply minutes - time had seemingly dissolved to a formless haze.

The reason for his cease in progression was that for once, in the vast emptiness of the underground Eden, he finally heard something.

Drip.

Drip.

Drip.

In the distance, incredibly faintly, the sound of liquid dropping into more liquid reached his ears.

He took off for a sprint, slipping a few times on the smooth ground beneath in his carelessness but single mindedly latching onto the only other source of sensual stimulation he had discovered since being trapped in the caves.

It didn't take long to find, sound travelled extraordinarily clearly in those caves after all and he could tell the sound came from tunnels to his left.

He eventually burst into a cave quite unlike the ones he had been in before.

It was still a large cavern though with a lower ceiling - roughly 15 feet high - and the star-like crystals speckled the walls of the cavern like any other. But there were two notable differences:

The first being the pool of water that took over the left side of the cavern, droplets falling onto the surface from above.

The second being the presence of several round, pale objects that littered the room.

They had a strong sheen to their surface and their pale pink smooth exterior brought to mind pearls, only these where larger than any natural pearl on the planet.

They came up to chest height and were wider than Quinton's body - wider than if two of himself stood side by side even.

He was transfixed by their lustre, more so than the crystals from before; they were captivatingly beautiful to him though he could not figure out why.

As his parched throat lead him to the water, he counted the pearls in that room.

Three near the pool, two by the entrance to another tunnel and four on the walls around him.

He spotted a second cave parallel to the one he was in, partitioned off by natural mimicries of two walls that failed to meet. He could spy another two pearls in that cave too.

He knelt by one such titanic gem resting by the pool's edge and took several grateful mouthfuls of the fresh liquid, crystals at the pool's bottom emitted an ethereal green glow.

He looked around hoping to find some exit that explained the presence of the fresh water but to his dismay, the closes he got was the source of the dripping water: holes - not even big enough for a finger to wiggle into - present in the walls and ceiling surrounding the pool where rainwater likely trickled in from the outside to form this collection of water.

Judging from the slow rhythm the droplets emerged, it was likely the rain had let up a while ago.

Just how long was I down here? He thought to himself.

He turned to the pearl, admiring it's texture, it's glassy appearance.

Now that he was closer he could feel a faint sense of heat emanate softly from it, much like the crystals providing light around him. More than that he could smell a pungent, yet strangely addictive aroma surrounding the strange stone.

He reached out to grope the unnatural gem, resting his hand against it-

He immediately retracted his hand from the surface and stumbled back, goosebumps set up along his arm and the hairs on it rose up as every instinct in his body warned him he was in danger.

His hand came away wet with a milky white slime.

The sensation he felt as he touched the pearl wasn't the hard, smooth sensation of a rock but rather squishy, wet and malleable like fatty flesh.

He also noticed, in that brief instance, that the "pearl" was moving slightly, rhythmically rising and falling as if it was breathing.

As if it were alive.

He stumbled back into another creature, pulling away immediately but noting the resistance as slime stuck to his body like heavy glue.

The creature he bumped into, the one he had touched and the ones surrounding him began to move - unfurling as if a coiled serpent had woken up.

And he did not want to find out what he had woken up

With his way back blocked by one such beast, he made for another way out.

As the other tunnel was blocked by two other, waking, creatures he made for the second cave, passing the gateway leading into it and avoiding the other unfurling masses he spotted.

He noted a tunnel at the cave's corner and immediately ducked into it, rushing ahead and not bothering to look back he sprinted through the wide but one way shoot in the hopes of escaping the inhabitants of the paradise nightmare.

He kept running even as his lungs struggled to draw in gulps of air, even as his legs threatened to give in, navigating twist after turn of the seemingly never-ending tunnel that snaked into the depths of the earth.

Light was sporadically placed here so while Quinton could still see where he was going, it was dimmer than he had hoped.

When he finally came across a junction he forced his body, running on auto pilot, to a halt.

Catching heavy lungfuls of air, he took the turn on his left, leading into another cave, just as unusual as this weird hidden world could offer.

He stumbled onto a cavern that was dimly lit for it's expansive size, a narrow stone walkway connected to a raised stone platform surrounded on all sides by a deep moat of water, like Onyx island set underground.

The platform was bear save a large rocky structure punctured with holes like blackened cheese; one such hole set at the bottom was more than double Quinton's own height.

He tentatively stepped inside, investigating it's contents.

It was a smaller cave than the one he had come from but still rather expansive, if not disappointingly barren.

Unlike it's outside however, the small cave was brightly lit by an arrangement of crystals set along the walls of the space.

He walked inside, noting how heavy his feet felt as he did.

He looked down to find strings of milky white adhesive cling to the soles of his trainers as he walked. It was then he noticed the almost polished sheen of the floor and walls, reflecting the light of the crystals. He brought a finger to the wall and, sure enough, it came away coated in slime.

It was then several observations seem to fit into place in his mind.

The random yet almost artificial placements of the holes in the cavern, the fact that the hole he came in from was larger and where it was placed, the symmetrical spacing and arrangement of the crystals lining the walls as if artificially placed, the familiar milky sheen that layered the entire inside of the cavern.

The strange feeling of walking through a doorway into another person's home.

Their home.

Quinton had run from those strange creatures only to stumble into their lair.

*SMACK*

Quinton turned as a wet but heavy crash reverberated throughout the cavern.

Another "pearl", larger than the previous ones by an absurd degree, had suddenly appeared on the raised platform, likely falling from the ceiling of the cavern if that sound was anything to go by.

Despite the colossal drop however the creature did not seem phased in the least and was lazily unfurling itself as if it had simply tossed and turned in it's sleep.

Quinton ducked into the doorway, peeking out in spite of caution to catch a glimpse of what exactly he was running from.

The creature was a pale pink, almost white colour, glossy from being covered in it's slime and utterly massive.

As it's shape unfurled he quickly identified a thick, bulky tail but no limbs to speak of.

The creature might have been serpent-like in nature but it was too bulky and nowhere near long enough for it's size to be considered a snake, and it certainly didn't explain the copious amount of slime.

Then it hit him when the monster had fully untangled itself; it was a slug.

A giant, pale slug.

As he watched, one part horrified and one part fascinated with the fantastical sight in front of him, he saw something grow from the front of the creature.

It was facing away from him so he couldn't tell exactly what he was seeing, but it appeared as though some protrusion had started extending from the head of the creature.

He initially presumed it to be the eye-stalks - assuming he was right and the thing was in fact a giant slug - but only one of them appeared and the proportions were off.

It was narrower in the middle than it's upper and lower half, two more protrusions branched off near it's top and seemed to possess a veil of sorts.

As the creature began to turn to the side and Quinton recognize two more rounder extensions from it's mid section, the young immediately identified the woman for what she was.

That said, the more he stared the more he realized it wasn't accurate to call it a "woman".

It wasn't as if there was a human girl sticking out of the creature or riding it, the two seemed fused together, as if she was growing out of the beast itself.

Anything below the woman's groin had become one with the mass of flesh, but above that was the voluptuous form of a woman that could only exist in perverse art.

Wide hips bearing a bubbly ass, a narrow waist and a comically giant pair of heavy breasts that refused to sag despite their volume.

As he admired the vision of sexiness, he couldn't help but notice the thing had started coming towards him.

Panic forced him back to reality and he tore himself away from the entrance looking for a place to hide.

Slinking to the darkest corner he could find - which was unfortunately further from the only exit than he had hoped - he decided to wait for an opening before making a run for it.

After a while, the creature slowly emerged and entered it's home. Now getting a better look at his adversary, Quinton could make out more finer details.

Unlike a normal slug, this monster shared the same colour scheme all around and didn't seem to have any scales or blemishes on it's surface.

And the woman lacked any definitive muscle mass or skeletal structure, yet seemed just as solid as a regular human. She had no facial features save a mouth, her hair covered the spot where her eyes should be so it was difficult to tell if she had them or not.

On that note, her hair was less a collection of thread-like strands but rather a singular blob-like veil that shared the same colour scheme as the rest of her body.

It adapted the illusion of pink hair and fell down to the small of her back, just above her ass, contrasting against her pale body.

Two stalks peaked out of this blob but Quint suspected they weren't used for seeing and seemed to act more like antennae.

But what terrified him most was the sheer size of the creature.

He suspected that if the two were to come face to face, the front of the monster's lower mass alone would be more than twice as wide as himself and just as tall.

And the womanly half was definitely not to the average human's proportions either; the narrowest part of her waist seemed just was broad as his shoulder width and her torso alone took up at least two thirds of his full body height.

He pressed himself against the wall in spite of the glue-like slime coating his back and tried to remain as quiet as possible; a challenge in and of itself when you really want to start hyperventilating and breaking down like the rest of your sanity.

The creature stayed close to the entrance of the lair, turning her head and surveying the surroundings as if looking for something.

Looking for me, he thought.

He waited until he had his opening. He would slip past the moment she came deeper into the lair and a clear shot to the exit was made for him.

He just had to be a bit more patient.

He panicked when the creature's gaze lingered on the spot where he hid, had to force his body not make a break for it in fear that she knew where he was.

He feared that she could see in the dark or that he wasn't as hidden in the darkness as he had initially hoped.

After contemplating jumping out one of the windows to escape and a brief horrifying thought of being caught and eaten by a slug the creature let out a drawn out hiss that sounded almost like a sigh and moved away.

It's tail took a while to catch up to the rest of it's body, lingering by the doorway but there was more than enough room now to get out.

He couldn't afford to miss this chance.

When he was sure the creature was no longer looking his way, Quint edged along the circumference of the chamber as quietly and as slowly as he could manage.

The sticky floor hampered his movement but also muffled his footsteps, a double edged sword that would turn against him if he made one mistake.

He just needed to be patient. If he rushed then who knows what would go wrong.

He was almost there now, the entrance was right there, only a half dozen feet away from the exit. He just needed to stay patient and take it slowly. There was no rush.

Slowly.

Slowly.

Slowly.

Close enough that his outstretched arm brushed the edge of the doorway, the Slug monster began to turn.

Quint made the split second choice to run for it.

He started with a burst of speed...only to fall flat on his face.

Coated in slime he managed to push himself up and shake the dizziness from his head.

He completely underestimated the hold the slime had on his shoes and had become unbalanced. Now coated in slime he felt encumbered and found it difficult to get up.

Suddenly he felt the hairs on the back of his neck rise. A primal part of him was screaming in abject fear, his nerve endings were sending warning signs straight to his brain.

It was the most instinctive terror he had ever experienced.

He turned around.

The Slug woman was looking directly at him.

At first neither of them moved. For Quint this was out of fear freezing his body in place but for the monster, her mouth was opened in an expression of surprise.

Then it widened into a toothless grin and the creature reach out and dragged itself slowly towards him.

Quint began scrambling for freedom but the slime coated the front of his body and held him down, the alien formula was as potent as having a heavy set of chains bearing down on his body.

The creature was closing what little distance was between them in the meanwhile, her greedy arms were poised to snatch her prey up while he lay there defenceless.

Quint squirmed, crawling towards the exit rather than standing up deciding that the longer he stayed on the slime coated ground the less likely he was going to break free.

The water.

If he could just reach the water he could wash away the sticky trap he was ensnared in.

One hand in front of the other; clawing at the slimy stone and dragging his whole body forward.

It was his muscles versus the clingy secretions of the anomalous predator and he had to get away.

His feet kicked, his fingers grasped, his biceps strained, he was already halfway out of the door now.

He just needed to reach the end of the platform and fall into the deep moat. That was all it was. Just a little bit further!

He was almost practically out of the little chamber when he felt a vice-like pressure on his ankle.

He knew what it was. He could feel tears well up in his eyes before he had even turned around to see the smiling monster leaning down, both hands fastened to the ankle of his right leg.

It let out a ringing sort of sound.

Like a giggle.

Then it began pulling with phenomenal strength and little exertion.

Quinton tried to fight his assailant, haphazardly clawing at the smooth ground to get a grip, kicking at the woman's soft body in the hope that her grip might cave, screaming with futility into the empty, forgotten underground labyrinth.

Nothing worked.

Oh God, oh God, oh God!

I'mgonnadieI'mgonnadieI'mgonnadieI'mgonnadie!

He reached out for the edges of the doorway - a yawning mouth to his end but - between a lack of grip and the creature's absurd strength - there was no struggle and he was pulled flailing into the centre of the lair.

She let go of his ankle but before Quint could try and shuffle back, she reached up and grabbed him by the back of his hoodie, hoisting him off the ground without effort.

He looked back and saw that the Slug body contracted itself to allow the woman to reach out and grab his floor bound body and now it was stretching back to it's original mass.

Now towering at full height, the Slug Woman was dangling the hapless Quinton a couple of feet from the ground, where he couldn't run.

He tried to wriggle out of her grip but it was too firm, at the very least he hoped he could get out of his hoodie.

In his desperation, his foot struck the creature's blobby lower half and got stuck.

When he looked down, he saw that the tip of his shoe had sunk into the flesh of the creature. And now a powerful suction dragged the rest of his foot into the fleshy body.

He cried out and doubled his flailing, but in his panic, kicked at the Slug half with his other foot and felt it sink into the wet flesh like it was trapped in quicksand.

I'm being eaten alive! He thought, assured that his end was sealed.

Soon both his feet had been swallowed up to the ankles and now the woman was pulling him closer.

He was face to face with her bosom, her round, bulbous orbs had no trace of areolae but they did end with fattening, perky nipples all the same.

He looked up at her, her eyes, if there were any, were hidden but he could tell she was observing him closely and taking all of him in.

As slow as she was, the monster was clearly intelligent. He wondered if she wanted to see the terror in his face as she ate him?

His mind raced with horrific scenarios. So much so that he didn't notice the suction on his feet had stopped leaving anything shin-upwards free.

He heard the creature let out the same giggle-like sound from before and found her arms wrapping around his body, his arms pinned to his sides, and pulled into her chest where her head bowed down to meet his own and smothered his mouth with her pink lips in a salacious kiss.

Quint went stiff in her hold in that moment, blind-sided by her sudden amorous action.

He half expected her mouth to suddenly unhinge and devour him whole any second now but she continued indulging in the taste buried in his gums.

Her plush pink lips played with his own, prying them open gently while her thick tongue slipped through the opening to taste deeper.

Quinton, for his part, was still seized by a fear of the unknown and squirmed uncomfortably in her embrace.

Despite how soft her body felt to the touch it held incredible strength seemingly surpassing Olympic athletes and the most superhuman bodybuilders. He could tell that if she so wanted, she could have easily ripped him apart limb from limb had she so pleased.

That realization alone was enough to convince him to relax, though he couldn't help but flinch away from her puckered lips and darting tongue out of confused fear.

If it bothered the strange creature, it didn't show. It just enticed it to increase the ferocity of it's assault pulling the hapless young man closer to her body, a thick layer of slime like a second skin bathed his body and turned his clothes soggy and useless, any warmth he received now came from the body clinging to him.

His shoes and socks discarded long ago without his notice, Quinton felt the slug's warm insides massage his feet with reverence.

The fleshpot bubbled over with copious amounts of thick slime and the soft, bumpy flesh kneaded his feet as if meaning to chew and nibble on his exposed and entrapped limbs.

Cocooned inside, the pleasant walls contracted more and more until they had practically moulded themselves to the shape of their prisoner's feet.

In spite of the confined space the flesh continued to pulsate and gnaw at him, inducing pleasure in his feet by targeting his soles, toes and the space inbetween. It was as if a thousand tongues were pressing against his skin while dolling dollops of saliva without end.

Curling his toes at the sensation, Quint could do little more than straighten up, unintentionally opening his mouth as he did his best to endure the pleasure only for it to be plugged back up by the smiling creature's tongue.

Her giant tits rested on either side of his head, which poked out of the cleavage like he was barely treading water. In spite of their softness their sheer size invoked a strong grip on his entrapped skull and resisted any attempts to worm away from the woman's assertive smooches.

As her tongue probed the depths of his mouth, he tasted a strong, musky liquid smother is taste buds and invade his throat.

The moment he swallowed her saliva, his body seemed to relax like putty in her hands.

His limbs numbed, his muscles slackened, everything but his mind went limp in her bear hug.

Now paralysed and unable to resist the creature seemed to double it's already extreme efforts to indulge in his taste.

He was practically sinking into her body with how close she held him, choking him as her tongue stretched deeper into his mouth, snaking in on itself until it had started to fill up the contents.

He became dimly aware that they were moving but couldn't focus on anything but the addictive taste of the saliva her tongue was rubbing all over his gums and the spongy coffin his body had been ensnared in.

He eventually felt her grip lax and the pressure of the chamber's stone wall on his back, lukewarm with the thin covering of slime.

His body came free from hers - feet and all - and was pinned to the wall in a crucified pose while the monster examined her catch with adoring curiosity.

With a smile, she pressed her breasts against his body rubbing herself up and down his chest while the soft pressure massaged his frozen muscles.

He saw her body produce more slime, secreting like sweat from every part of her body and gathering in an impossibly rapid pace to resemble a milky white foam.

It gathered around her chest and was rubbed onto Quint's body through her massage, congealing into a viscous mass that hid his body in a blob of white.

From her chest to her hands she rubbed the sludge all over his defenceless self until only his head was left uncovered. As she slipped back however, she reached a hand towards his groin passing through the slime like it were bath foam and freed his dick from her glutinous cocoon.

She seemingly admired her handiwork - one finger to her smirking lips and her other hand holding her narrow waist - giggling sultrily to herself while her captive tried in vain to suppress his boner.

He hung there suspended by her slime, his arms outstretched on either side and his legs together. His whole body was hung up on the wall of the chamber like some ornamental decoration.

He was still suffering the paralytic effects of ingesting her sweet saliva but Quint suspected that even without it he wouldn't be able to move.

A trace amount of the slime went beyond what any natural adhesive could accomplish and now he was completely mired in it. It was obvious he had no chance to escape.

His snug cocoon was warm however, and incredibly comforting like a heated - albeit slimy - bed in a cold night. By extension, his dick was free of the comforts his body knew, maintaining it's erection in spite of the cold through the miracle of the slug woman's secretions.

After a moment longer the monster approached yet again until she was practically pressing up against her ensnared prey.

From where he hung, Quint came level to her chest and had a hefty eyeful of her hefty jugs, glossy with her oily slime.

Her felt her heated palm grasp his shaft eliciting an involuntary gasp from him that swiftly evolved into a moan of pleasure as she moved her hand.

Her stroking was slow and deliberate, almost calculating and displayed a terrifying level of genius to the motion. Her fingers weaved in a way that the motion caused the palm to ripple and undulate in a way to seemingly urged the captive's spunk to rush through the shaft.

When the hand reached the base, the fingers splayed out and cupped his balls, briefly tickling and groping them before retreating along the length of his shaft again.

At the head, the palm pressed itself against the tip, rubbing against the sensitive end while the fingers looped around the underside of the glans.

She continued her movements while pressing up against her captive as he squirmed uncomfortably in her play.

Her left breast pressed against his cheek and was slowly filling up the left side of his vision while her clammy breath poured out onto him and flushed his skin more and more.

She moved too slowly for him to adequately get off to her torture but her technique somehow managed to keep him on edge in spite of that.

It was agony, and all he wanted was for the creature to just let him climax

"Pluhzz..."

His tongue felt like lead and all he could manage was to slur his plea to the unknown life form.

Whether she heard him or even understood him or not, she gave no indication and continued her erotic erosion of his will for a while longer.

When she at last broke away, Quint couldn't help but whine in displeasure almost like a child...or a pet.

Just then, her slug-like lower body seemed to shrink, deflating itself like a balloon until the woman atop sank lower and lower, stopping just level with Quint's crotch.

She studied the erect member without trying to hide her heavy breathing, besieging the already sensitive tower of lust with blast after blast of hot air to the displeasure of her aroused toy.

And then, placing a hand on either breast, she pried them apart and positioned the cock inbetween them.

Quint could only watch in fear and anticipation as the sultry siren looked up at him, smiled sadistically and let go, allowing her weighty jugs to swing into each other and clap around the now entrapped cock with a meaty slap that reverberated in the silent cavern.

Quint wanted to scream but his body refused to work as commanded and it was all he could do to endure the cocktail of pleasure and pain he was experiencing.

But it didn't end.

Noting his reaction the creature pried her breasts again and repeated the action, every time more and more strands of sticky "sweat" bridged the battered penis and her tits.

A normal woman would have felt pain but such an extreme action didn't seem to phase the slug woman in the slightest.

Quint however wasn't quite sure whether he was in agony over pain or pleasure, whatever the case his erection never dulled for a second.

After perhaps the 8th or 9th slap, the slug placed her hands on either side of her bust and pressed hard.

The sheer volume of her boobs was enough to make it a snug fit on it's own, now though, Quint's cock felt like it was being constricted by a rather impish snake, crushed on all sides by a prison of pillowy pleasure his screams could only come out as strangled moans.

While exerting the same level of pressure, the creature bobbed her chest up and down, providing the world's tightest tit-fuck in history.

Her boobs were so enormous that no matter how much she moved, Quint's penis didn't peep out of her cleavage but Quint could feel the blissful hell it was trapped in, one that set alight every synapse in his lower body.

She moved slowly but with a desperate intensity that choked his cock, increasing the already intense pressure when she noticed the lewd, awkward moans she was drawing out of her captive.

Quint began unconsciously thrusting into her cleavage, though his slimy bondage hampered his movements drastically.

At most he could manage a silly wobble but in the end, his host did all the moving; building his orgasm up and up until it was impossible to hold back.

And then the release.

Snared within her tits, Quint couldn't see any sign of his orgasm but he could feel the rush of release as it pulsed through his body - curling his toes, clenching his ass and screwing his eyes and fists shut tight.

He struggled to remember a time he came half as hard before.

The Slug creature, for it's part, seemed to not notice at first and kept carelessly bouncing up and down, drawing out his orgasm as if she was pulling it out herself.

When the wave of pleasure finally passed, Quint felt his body go more limp than usual.

His hips twitched as if wanting to thrust deeper into the valley before it but lacking the strength - never mind the freedom - to do so.

His semen mixed with the creature's slime in a foamy concoction that seemed to plaster his still-erect rod between her tits, the feeling was simultaneously disgusting and arousing.

He had thought - hoped - that it might be satisfied with that and that he be given a chance to collect his thoughts once again but unfortunately the slug girl seemed more than content to leaving him wanting for a reprisal.

With barely so much of a break and still feeling the aftershocks of his earlier orgasm, the creature pressed her breasts together and continued to pump Quinton's restless shaft like a semen pump.

He came again and again with no sign of stopping any time soon.

The girl would alternate her tits motions, knead them in circular rotations, squeeze tighter only to relax when it became unbearable and once or twice relaxed her grip to swallow his shaft into her mouth while he unloaded deep into her throat.

She moved with the skill and dexterity you would expect of a pornstar, leading Quinton to ponder if her technique had been developed on others or if this was purely instinctual.

He wasn't quite sure which idea terrified him more.

And soon, whatever paralysing property her spit held was beginning to fade. He could feel his muscles again, tired and sore from intellectually tensing up under consecutive orgasms. His head, too, felt clearer and he was shaking off the last remnants of his daze.

His first order of business was to exercise his mouth by begging and pleading with his captor to cease her assault, his words slurring slightly as his tongue roused itself from it's break.

Not that it mattered, the slug girl seemed happy to just ignore him and keep on draining him.

His Dick went for 9 shots total before the effect of her slime faded and it finally went limp. It was after another 3 dry orgasms however that the creature seemed to finally get the message.

"Please...No...Mo...re..."

Holding his shrunken member in one hand, the girl looked up with an expression that could have been concern or confusion.

Panting with exertion, aching all over and sweating from every pore of his body, Quinton prayed to whatever deity overlooked this hell that it was concern.

She rose up to her full height, still mindlessly stroking Quint's sensitive cock with mindless abandon. He wasn't sure whether she was purposely sadistic or just ditzy.

Maybe both.

She looked down on his pained expression then chuckled.

Her free hand drifted over to her breast where it began to massage the gelatinous mass, digging into the rippling flesh as lewd crackle of her mucus filled the cavern.

She pinched the nipple, a large nub of a rosier shade of pink he was surprised he didn't notice before, and held it directly in front of him, despite being covered in her fluids a more obvious white substance seemed to leak from the gland.

Quinton stubbornly turned away from the glorified milk dispenser, closing his eyes to the slovenly sight, but his ears remained open to her obstinate moaning and while his penis was already spent, her constant massages in his nether region made him squirm.

When he felt the heat in front of his face change becoming more prominent, he opened an eye just in time to see - and feel - the slimy mass press up against his face.

His first instinct was to bring his hands up to protect his face and push off his assailant but his hands were - quite literally - tied and he could do little to resist the mass that was smothering his entire face.

He twisted and turned as best as he could but the creature was infuriatingly adept at predicting his movements and keeping the wet nub of his nipple poised against his lips, leaking steadily and patient.

He heard her giggle and laugh as if this was nothing more than another game to her and felt her body sidle closer to him until there was no space between them, her curvy, bubbly belly pinned his cock against it's muscleless mass.

Her breasts fully encompassed her captive's head and her free hand, having been spared it's duty of bullying Quint's exhausted dick, snaked up to the back of his head and held him firmly against the oppressive mass, keeping him from escaping his fate.

After holding his breath a minute longer than his panicking brain wanted him to, he finally sucked in a deep gasp of air and with it, the nipple.

With a large foreign object unceremoniously forced into his mouth, Quinton's body understandably panicked and went through all sorts of instinctive defences.

His first instinct was to to push back with his tongue, only for it to be steamrolled by a much larger, stickier force.

The moment it came into contact too, the taste of the mucus made his mind blank once again and he, unrestrained, bit down on the creature's tit.

It didn't so much as bruise the supernatural texture this creature was made from, all it did was squeeze hard enough that a stream of milk of incredibly potency and quantity burst out from her breast with a satisfied sigh and into Quint's gullet.

The milk was stronger than her spit by miles and immediately, Quinton's mind began doing loopdeloops and drunken jigs in a merry-go-round.

Everything; the wall, the slime, the cave, his own thoughts and protestations ceased to exist.

All that was there now was himself, the beautiful goddess before him and the feeling of pleasure blossoming in his groin and the ambrosial taste in his mouth.

His balls swelled with sperm and his cock hardened more than it had ever before, poking into the soft but resilient stomach of his lover.

She stayed plastered against his body for a blissful bit, enjoying the twitching rod against her flesh, the hungry nibbles at her breast and the warmth of a companion set against her.

The creature then shifted back, carefully keeping her breast inside her lover's mouth while she rubbed the space between her feminine groin and slug body.

Though there was no slit where a vagina should have been, just below it, a small seam began to form in the slug's mass, opening up to reveal a narrow hole, the inside of which was a violet hue of ribbed flesh secreting stores of pussy juice in it's impatient hunger for cock.

Quinton felt her hand at his shaft, stroking it softly, not as vigorously as her previous hand job, before positioning the tip against a warm, wet opening.

Even in his dream-like state he couldn't help but let out a low moan at the feeling of his dick piercing the tight flesh and how it conformed snugly around the intruding shaft like a perfectly fitting jigsaw piece slotting into the place it belonged.

Her inhuman pussy literally began to mould itself to match his shape, the walls shifted in an unnaturally undulating manner as if to imprint the young man's energetic cock into the flesh itself.

Her sticky slime poured forth from all around the narrow canal and coated his length in muculent juices that, combined with the sheer tightness of her pussy, made it impossible to move at will inside.

As the lower mouth chewed on his member, Quint moaned softly into the breast in his mouth, sucking out more milk as he did.

When the monster's cunt had finished morphing it's shape at last, it pushed against his hips, firmly pinning him to the wall, and the clammy, fleshy walls of her pussy began to undulate around Quinton's cock in wave-like motions - pumping his shaft for all the lust built up inside it.

Though her body herself remained still, the motions in her pussy worked up a storm, pulsing at an intense speed unbecoming to the lazy crawl her body mass normally moved at.

Though Quinton's cries of pleasure were muffled by the drugged solution in his system and the leaking breast smothering his mouth, the Slug girl had no such filter and was seemingly enjoying the feeling more than he was.

Hugging his head tightly, she threw back her head and let out thunderous moan after thunderous moan.

He had only heard her giggle before but now her screams made him realize just how human-like she sounded, it was honestly terrifying.

Her sultry wails filled the vast cavern, reverberating in the empty space and drilling itself into Quint's bones.

He hung there, spasming into the bosum of this creature as he was used as a sex toy. Her womanhood continued to warp and pulse - tightening at the glans first before rippling down to the root then back up to the head in a fleshy embrace.

He swallowed mouthful after mouthful of warm milk gratefully and with each mouthful he felt a renewed sense of youthful vigour burst through him as well as another gentle urge of drowsiness.

His paradoxical situation: a constant state of arousal with energy rushing though an otherwise weak and lazy body, kept him from resisting and kept him hard for his inhuman mistress.

Her breathing grew heavier, her screams louder and the pauses between became shorter. Her hungry snatch increased the rhythm of it's undulations and her womanly hip started to grind uselessly against her captive's groin.

Even the slug mass her pussy was part of began to slam back and forth against Quint's hips, applying a pressure through movement it clearly didn't need.

Was it another means of drawing out semen or an unconscious reaction to pleasure?

Either way it worked and Quint ended coming closer to releasing his load once again.

He endured her wanton thrusting as his slick cock speared her narrow depths, lubed up by the viscous membrane it drowned in, her folds kneading the defenceless rod until it was ready to explode.

And explode it did.

With a satisfied grunt, Quint's body tensed up and let loose streams of his seed into the creature's eager hole, convulsing despite his relaxed state in the arms of his cephalopod lover.

Conversely she too, came but with more violent eroticism.

Her entire entrance contracted and choked the invading organ and when she came, her squirting wasn't limited to her vagina. Her whole body seemed to secrete the aphrodisiac mucus - making him realize that every bodily liquid in her seemed to just be sexual secretions.

Her body sweated out a thick layer of milky ooze that swamped Quinton as she pressed up against him roughly, it flooded his dick's fleshy sheath until it overflowed onto his balls, dripped from her open, gasping, screaming maw, tongue lolling as she reached the apex of her climax.

And more prevalently it gushed in a torrent from her breast down Quint's throat.

He tried to suckle it down as best he could but it became too much for him and he was forced to pry himself away from her breasts, coughing and spluttering as her milk continued to spray all over his face.

When the climax died down and her pussy unclenched again...it resumed it's movements, pumping the raging cock as violently as before.

The creature's tongue lapped up at her lover's face, tasting the milk she had mired him in before twisting his unresisting mouth to face her and invading him once again with her serpentine organ.

Again and again she forced him to cum inside her, each orgasm more powerful than the last, all the while feeding him a stream of her viscous fluids from either her breasts or her mouth.

He lost count of how many times she had drained him by the dozen or so climax and though her mucus kept his body glowing with energy to be siphoned off into her salacious snatch, his mind wasn't as resilient.

Worn down by constant consumption of the erotic drug, Quinton finally blacked out, his last view was off the pale beauty's face twisted in a rapturous expression of lust.

------------------------------------

When Quinton woke up again, he was alone in the cavern, still suspended by the adhesive goo.

The slug woman - that alien, terrifying and horny creature - was nowhere to be seen but who knew when she's be back and how long this brief opportunity presented itself.

Quint glanced down at his penis, still erect despite all it had endured and swamped in a cocoon of the slug's milky juices having been orgasmed on countless times.

It looked fine though, unmarked and unbruised despite suffering more use than naturally intended. In fact his cock felt healthier than ever before. Bigger too.

His entire body felt like it had just went through the world's most relaxing massage too. Not a single ache or pain to be had although every muscle in his body was asleep at the moment.

He set to work urging feeling back into his limbs, starting with his hands.

Once he could, he began pulling against the adhesive restraints with all the strength he could muster. It felt like he was swimming through tar.

The sweetest smelling tar in the world.

Part of him really wanted another taste of the slime but he knew that even a little bit was both addicting and enough to put him into a trance.

If he consumed even the smallest drop it was back to an empty, thoughtless head with a raging erection ready for his sticky goliath to return and bully his cock into submission once again.

After ceaseless struggling for what felt like minutes, Quinton finally freed his arms and was almost done with his legs.

It helped that the slimy coating had thinned out around his limbs, having been largely ignored while the slug girl went to town on him.

The downside to this is that his torso was more reinforced in the liquid than anywhere else on his body, so it was going to take a bit more effort.

With all four limbs freed, Quinton planted his feet and hands on the wall in a Spider-Man-esque pose - the stickiness of the wall due to the thin coating of slime felt like nothing in comparison to the heavy gelatinous mass he was trapped under.

After getting a good grip he pushed off the wall with all his might.

It took longer, way to long, to finally dislodge his torso but with a final push, he fell (slowly, the remnants of slime slowing his descent as they clung to the wall) face first onto the stone floor.

Free at last.

He lay there for a bit, he wanted to stay there. But he knew the danger and he wanted to get home.

The creature was playful, sure but there was no telling if she was actually biding her time to eat him or not, or whether his body would give out mid sex and he'd be broken beyond repair.

He forced himself back up and made his way to the entrance of the cavern.

It branched off two ways and he started down right, remembering it as the path he came from.

He stopped halfway when he heard a distinctly wet sound from further down the corridor.

It could have been many things.

It could have been the creature itself, or it could have been the water pools he remembered passing by.

There were holes in that area where rain probably filtered down in from above, what he was hearing was probably just that.

But in thinking about the room with the shallow pool he remembered one other thing.

Oh fuck, there's more of them...

The giant pearl shapes, their slimy texture, the fact that they moved as if they were alive. He didn't get to see but having seen one already, he realized he must have stumbled into an entire colony of those things.

And if one was that ravenous already...

Quinton was never afraid of being called a coward. In his eyes there was nothing wrong with turning tail and running away should things get out of hand.

So he was perfectly fine with immediately sprinting down the other path, deeper into the caves.

Maybe there was another way out, he couldn't come back the way he came in, the jagged rocks would cut him open, but surely there were other ways to get inside or out.

He'd just have to hope and pray that he'd make it out.

That he was just that fortunate.

------------------------------------

Unfortunately, Lady Luck was being an obstinate bitch this time around.

The left path was full of dead ends and endless corridors no matter where he turned.

After the fiftieth dead end or so he tried to double back in frustration, hoping to take his chances with the right path and the risk of being the prey to hundreds of horny sludge monsters.

But he was too turned around to remember the way, there were no waypoints or natural landmarks to memorize.

He was stuck in a dark labyrinth illuminated only by glowing stones the same azure blue as the last.

He eventually came across a different room that looked promising but was ultimately, another dead end.

It was larger, more expansive than the corridors he was trudging through before (having said that each tunnel was over ten feet tall and more than half as wide, big enough to accommodate his slug host) and though there were no paths branching out there was another pool set to the back of the bare space.

Ultimately exhausted and at the end of his rope, Quinton relented to the idea of a quick drink before wandering the endless maze again.

He solemnly, with an air of defeat, marched over to the pool and scooped up a grateful handful to drink.

He took hefty gulps, feeling the refreshing liquid wash down his throat...

And yet it seemed so...unfulfilling.

The taste and texture was the same as any ordinary water, and he never particularly had anything against drinking water so to speak.

But he felt like he wanted more, like he had an itch that he failed to scratch.

He took a few more gulps of water but though they dulled the itch they didn't get rid of it completely.

He craved something sweeter, like the slug girl's slime.

Maybe he could get away with a small amount after all, what if he diluted it with water? What if-

He splashed his face with a helping of cold water, waking him from his daydreams.

That slime was dangerous and he couldn't afford to even think about tasting more of it, let alone actually consume it.

He necked back some more mouthfuls of water as if to cleanse his taste buds of the memory of the Slug girl when he finally noticed it.

On the ceiling.

Were a dozen or so "pearls".

They were scattered about the ceiling, reflecting the light off of their glossy exteriors, pulsing softly in rhythm with life.

They were also definitively smaller than the one Quint encountered, though by the looks of things even the smallest proved to be too large for his liking.

He stood up as slow as he possibly could and made his way back to the cave tunnel, keeping his eyes fixated on the bubbles of flesh. Getting ready to bolt at the slightest movement.

His foot struck a loose rock.

As it skittered across the ground noisily like a frightened rodent, Quinton instinctively reached for his foot - feeling the sharp pain where the honed geode cut him - grunting out loud before immediately tensing up and glancing at his hosts.

It wasn't a particularly loud yelp but the rock clattering across the cavern worked up a cacophony that roused the sleeping slugs from their dreams and the "pearls" slowly began to unfold like flowers blossoming in a forbidden garden. Or perhaps a group of Venus Fly Traps spreading their hungry maws in anticipation for the next hapless meal to stumble into a final rest.

It took a moment longer than he was comfortable with for Quint's tense muscles to respond but when they did, he ignored the sharp pain in his foot and sprinted for the way out.

The cavern was relatively small and the exit was close - roughly 10 feet or so - away, so crossing the distance was easy.

Until a soft but heavy force ploughed into Quinton from above, knocking him to the ground and the breath from his lungs.

Briefly dazed and struggling to move, Quint craned his neck to look up as the slug girl pinning him down was beginning to emerge.

At the moment, on the slug-mass of the lower body was out, but as he watched from a front row seat, he saw the feminine protrusion emerge from the flesh of the creature, less like breaching the surface of of a separate entity and more like the initial entity was suffering an unusual, humanoid growth.

Branching out as the flesh warped around her to accommodate the new appendage, the growth stopped at the thighs and an attractive female figure sat atop the fleshy lump.

He saw the other creatures grow their humanoid upper bodies; all female, but none of which nearly as big as the first one he encountered.

While she was up to 11 feet tall, the smallest was roughly Quinton's height (give or take a couple of inches) and the tallest ranging to 7-8 feet tall.

Their "hair" were also blobs of pink that concealed the space their eyes should have been, styled in abnormally ordinary shapes like a ponytail, pigtails, short and swept or long and almost voluminous.

Also their bodies were tighter looking, lacking the curvaceous appeal of the initial slug girl with their breast sizes ranging from B to D cups, varying from girl to girl.

Looking at them all, the first impression Quinton received was of a mother and her large brood of daughters.

Quinton did his best to remain as still as possible, not wanting to alert any of the girls present - least of all the one currently pinning him under her slimy body.

The didn't seem to notice him; stretching their limbs and bodies and yawning as they shrugged off all remaining doldrums of sleep.

He was fascinated by how utterly human they seemed to behave despite living so far beneath the earth, as far from human civilization in a remote, secluded kingdom of rocks and darkness.

He ran through all possible avenues of escape, noting his limited options and was contemplating if he should either play dead or try sprinting from the creature's body when one of the creatures seemed to turn to him.

She made a wordless exclamation and pointed at Quinton's prone body who looked on like a deer caught in the headlights as several curious and confused faces turned to him.

He immediately took off in a sprint...or at least tried.

The secretions of the slug on top of him felt like he was being coated in some kind of sweet smelling oil, so he had briefly thought he's be slippery enough to escape his unwitting captor's bulk.

But contrary to the sensation, the lotion merely kept him stuck to the fleshy underbelly hampering his movement and resulting in him flailing about rather than actually escaping.

It must have felt good to the girl on top of him however. He heard a loud moan from above indicating her pleasure in the matter and felt the flesh of her underbelly compacting around him, further hampering any resistance.

When he looked up he found himself facing a ring of slug girls looking down at him with curious looks, studying him as if he was the oddity here.

In a manner of speaking he supposed he was.

One of the bolder creatures drew closer and tentatively outstretched an arm to his face, poking his cheek.

"Hey! Pack it in!" Quinton snapped back startling the crowd.

But instead of relenting they seemed egged on and soon all the girls began prodding and jabbing his face much to his chagrin.

Soon their mouths, which had been agape in surprise, ended up twisted in gleeful and impish grins as their play intensified.

The prodding fingers turned to pinching and caressing and some managed to sneak a digit or two into their subjects mouth, hooking into his cheek and exploring the orifice to their delight.

After a minute or so of suffering their curiosity, the girls eventually pulled away from the exhausted young man.

He saw them lean in towards each other and witness the tips of their antennae flare up and pulse with sky blue bioluminescent light.

From the steady rhythmic way it flashed in and out of existence it seemed to be their means of communicating with one another.

But then what was the point of their mouths?! He wondered.

After a spell, Quinton felt the weight on his back retract and he was free once again.

He immediately turned his thoughts to getting the fuck out of there before anything else could happen but his body was loath to obey him.

Aside from his head and arms, which were spared being trapped under the slug girl's body, Quinton's muscles felt far too numb to move.

He managed to prop himself up on all fours before pushing himself into an upright kneeling position but it was like all his muscles in his torso downwards had fallen asleep and he couldn't will them to move.

He suddenly became aware that the circle of slug girls had tightened and that one in particular was hovering directly over him.

Had he been standing, she'd be as tall as he was but as he was now, he came level to her glistening lower body which pulsed softly as if in time with the creature's breathing.

He looked up at the girl, the only defining feature he could identify aside from her height was her "hair" which seemingly mimicked a braid but resembled a loose string of beads limply hanging past her chest.

She smiled sweetly then indicated to a spot on her sluggish lower body with both hands, drawing his attention.

As he watched, he saw a faint seam appear at eye level and slowly open up like the bud of a flower, unveiling a purple interior that dribbled an excess of sexual ichor before his eyes.

The violet walls of the foreign pussy throbbed excitedly - contracting and opening like a hungry maw smacking it's lips in anticipation for a new meal.

Quinton's body let loose an instinctive shiver as he stared at the narrow opening, captivated by the alien gateway before him.

It was if every cell in his body was screaming at him to run, no matter how unresponsive his muscles were.

At the same time, another more primal, dominant part of him bid him to ignore his instinctive ramblings and watch the show his hosts deigned to present him.

So he did, as if in a trance.

And his fascination did mindlessly grow as the small hole grew as well.

The slit extended downwards and then continued further and further, stopping just short of the base of the body before unfolding outwards into an opening as wide as his shoulders.

Her femcum poured out like a broken dam, spilling all over the ebony floor and pooling around his kneeling self.

Everywhere the warm liquid touched, his already over-sensitive skin felt like it was set aflame. A pleasant but unbearable warmth settled in his legs and spread to his erect dick - leaking precum as it waited in anticipation.

He knew what was coming, how could he not?

The waiting, pulsating hole before him, leading into a space large enough to easily hold a person of his size, the gentle yet predatory smiles of the creatures surrounding him.

There could be no doubt that this is where he would be eaten.

He didn't struggle - he couldn't even if he wanted to as the paralytic slime still took hold of his lower body.

He felt the creature's soft, feminine hands rest on his head and pull him towards her lower mouth, the walls of which seemed to quicken their pulsing as if in excitement.

His head passed through the lips, then his shoulders and chest and once his midriff crossed the threshold, the purple walls closed in like the jaws of an exotic Venus Fly trap, tightening their vice around their prey.

Only halfway into the slug girl's oversized vagina, Quinton's upper body felt crushed and constricted by her powerful but soft walls, pressing down from all sides.

His arms had been thoroughly pinned to his sides and in spite of the spongy texture of the walls around him, any attempt to push back for space resulted in the walls constricting tighter and tighter to limit his resistance.

He felt the flesh pulse lasciviously as if gulping him down deeper into the vaginal caverns depths, drawing in his hips and slowly creeping up his thighs as if slurping up a limp string of noodles.

The moment his penis entered the flesh bed, her cavern walls parted around the member with a curious and abnormal precision, creating a mini pit that his dick would rest in.

The moment it entered, the flesh closed around it, causing Quint to stiffen at the sudden tightness.

The walls around him also tightened, a faint, muffled cry could be heard from somewhere as the slug revelled in his taste.

Milky liquid began to seep out from all around his body, steadily drowning him in her drug-like love juices as if wringing the water from a towel.

The cavern continued it's pulsations, drawing him deeper in, now only his legs below the knees were free.

It was surprising to Quinton that he could even breathe in her body, even if the air was hot and humid and sweet tasting, like experiencing a sauna surrounded by the scent of perfume.

Though him tasting the lascivious air was interrupted by the absurd amounts of cum he was drowning in, his desperate gasps for more air would be interspaced by one or two mouthfuls of erotic nectar.

Between huffing the carnal scents and swallowing her erotic milk, Quinton's whole body flushed and quickly became as sensitive as his bullied dick.

As he was being pulled deeper into the clammy tunnel the walls around his penis warped to keep it contained within it's own pocket, maintaining a powerful tightness that moved independent of the rest of the vaginal pulses.

It felt as though his cock was imprisoned within a second vagina that was milking him roughly while the rest of his body suffocated in a tomb of flesh.

After a few more pulses only his feet were left to go and after a couple more gulps, his entire body plunged into the wet warmth, being pulled deeper and deeper into the creature's body with no hope of escape.

When they stopped moving, Quint nihilistically mused if he had reached the creature's stomach and if her mucus also doubled as digestive fluid.

Part of him wanted to scream and claw his way out but any time he opened his mouth he'd inhale the addictive scent of the monsters' musk hidden in the air or gulp down her aphrodisiac cum and be rendered unable to do anything else.

And his whole body was secured firmly by the girl's vaginal walls, ironically firm compared to the creatures' soft bodies, as if all the muscle that comprised their being was in their lower mass.

The walls of her insides continued to massage his whole body, smearing the liquid proof of her arousal all over him and drowning him in her scent.

With the mucus being rubbed into his body, everywhere the flesh touched sent out a burst of pleasure that twisted his brain into a spiral of delirium, like his entire body had been transformed into a sentient cock to be played with viciously.

He felt the pulsing chamber trapping his cock also tighten and quicken, pushing him over the edge and letting loose a violent orgasm.

His body quivered and spasmed against the tight confines, instinctively squirming from the intense pleasure while the vaginal coffin simply contracted and held him tightly in comforting coil of the creature's insides.

When his body had calmed down, the pocket of flesh clamped around his dick once again and began it's relentless milking while the fleshy cavern resumed it's undulating massage, secreting more milky slime to bathe Quinton.

He ejaculated twice more but had no sense of time in his carnal limbo.

He couldn't move even a finger and his tongue seemed to act as though it had a mind of it's own, slurping up the slug's mucus and digging into her violet flesh when his face pressed against it.

He felt like a phantom - disconnected from his own flesh while assaulted from all sides by a paranormal amount of pleasure.

After his third ejaculation and resigning himself to his fate as this creature's dildo, he felt her insides relax around him.

Being free of the pressure that had compacted him made him realize just how numb his body had become.

Soon after, the slimy flesh pulsed in a different rhythm - tightening at his feet before rippling upwards to his head - pushing him back out of the humid space.

His addled mind failed to fully register his imminent freedom until the frigid cave air kissed his face after it re-emerged from the slug girl's drooling slit.

The contrasting cold of the outside and the pleasant warmth inside made him feel like shuffling back into his captor's snatch.

A pair of tender hands drew his gaze to one of the waiting girls who bent down to press her lips against his own, probing the depths of his mouth like a starving beast tearing into it's first meal in a while.

More girls mobbed him, trying their best to gain an impatient taste of the fascinating specimen they stumbled upon and snatching his tongue from the lips of their rivals.

When finding room became a greater struggle, they added their own strength to the effort of ejecting Quinton's limp body from their sister's pussy.

As they reached to find purchase, their hands took the opportunity to caress their prize with vigorous anticipation, endlessly fascinated by his rough texture compared to their buoyant frames.

Every touch, no matter how gentle on his sensitive skin was like an explosion of Nirvana in his nerves. A wayward finger drifting across his pecs spread the same sensation as if it was rimming the underside of his glans.

When they pried his chest loose from the hungry cavern, the creatures flipped Quinton around so that he was now staring up at the ceiling.

He had a good view of the expression of the slug girl he was still 3/4s inside, watching her struggle to withstand what was probably the greatest and most addicting orgasm she had ever experienced.

She hugged herself tightly, Quinton's twisting body churning her insides and bringing waves of bliss to the unprepared creature, her mewlings and moans mixing with the vivacious cacophony of the crowd of slug girls.

He had opened his mouth as a reflex of feeling the pussy muscles contract around his legs as if to stay their movement and found two rogue tongues probing his submissive cavity, intertwining like a caduceus while their owners emitted loud, avaricious slurping sounds that seeped into Quint's mind and inflamed him from the inside.

Bit by bit he was dragged out and into the grasp of his waiting harem of abnormal maidens, washing his body in the fluids that coated their bodies as they rubbed up against him wherever they could.

Their fingers traced their way across his skin like brush on a canvas, exploring the strange wonders of their prize, their lips latched onto his own, caressed his neck and collar and their tongues tasted his physique - lapping and suckling on his nipples with force as if expecting milk to reward them for their service.

The contractions of the enlarged vagina seemed to act as if to pull Quinton back into it's depths, reluctant to part from his presence but losing out against the combined strength of the impatient crowd of sisters awaiting their turn.

He was about halfway - the creatures now turning their attentions to his newly emerging navel, when he could feel a presence move behind his head.

It was the smallest of the group, still roughly as tall as he was at his full height nevertheless, positioning her body at his head. She gave out a brief moan as a seam appeared in her lower body and that seam spread down and opened up to reveal an opening to a violet tomb no larger than his shoulder width.

The first thing to hit him was the heat; a blast of humid air engulfed the space around and made him splutter and cough in surprise.

The stench accompanying this was far stronger and muskier than the previous girl yet was still a powerfully addictive scent that overwhelmed Quint's already weakened senses.

The fleshy hole, soaked in excited ichor, closed itself around Quint's skull like a pair of lips, pulling him quickly inside as the rest of his body slid out of the previous creature's cavity.

As his head sank halfway into the depths of the moistened hole, he felt his cock spring free of it's torture, experiencing the cold outside air for a full second before an amalgamation of hands, breasts and tongues snatched at the lonely pillar of flesh to surround it with warmth once again.

As his hips were pulled free, some of the girls began to play with his rear, fondling his ass cheeks, planting kisses on them or frenching his asshole with the same vigour they showed his mouth.

When his head was fully submerged inside her depths the fleshy walls contracted to an extremely intense tightness that clung to his skull like a second layer of skin.

Without any real choice in the matter, Quinton was forced to grind his face deep against her flesh, his nose suffering wafts of her pheromone induced scent that, in spite of the strong smell, Quinton found he couldn't stop himself from breathing in more of the feminine air he was mired in.

He opened his mouth almost reflexively and her meaty insides seemed to act autonomously - filling his mouth with a protrusion of muscle that leaked her addictive mucus directly when he sucked at it.

A powerful ripple through the humid cavity let Quinton know that his host thoroughly appreciated his presence, her mewls of starved delight carried at such volumes they even echoed inside the meaty pocket Quint was being pulled into.

Not long after, his feet were finally freed only to be snatched up by his loving attendants who sandwiched his ankles between abundant breasts as they slovenly lapped at his toes.

Not a single part of Quint's body at this point was bare of the slug girls' presence as they crawled about his body to feed on the curious morsel before he sank into their sister's depths.

Which, in the meantime, was compacting tightly against the invading young man's body as if it wanted to mould itself to his shape and make him a permanent part of her.

The experience might have been painful had his body not bathed in so much of her nerve numbing oils that whenever her insides squeezed a tsunami of euphoria tore through his body with such violence he somehow managed to squirm despite his paralysis.

Deeper and deeper he was fed into the creature's snatch before she ceased right before his hips were sucked in.

Listening to the rhythm of her breath through her insides, he could tell the creature was exhausted and struggling through the immense pleasure he was causing her.

But in her break, her sisters sensed this as their last opportunity to squeeze out as much of their prey's semen as they could and redoubled their efforts.

Quinton let loose 3 more shots between the breasts and mouths of his harem before his host finally sucked him all the way inside.

This scenario repeated itself for a while.

Trapped within a girl's expansive pussy and crushed on all sides, Quint would be brought to three or four climaxes every time while enduring a dozen or so of his pleasured host's convulsions.

Then, either the satisfied slug would eject him to be snatched up by her sisters or he would be forcibly dragged out by her impatient competitors longing for another taste.

Traded from pussy to pussy, the passage inbetween was rife with being smothered by the voluptuous figures and their carnal affections as he sank into another humid, snug coffin of flesh.

He lost track of both the number of girls he had pleasured and the sheer amount of orgasms he was forced to experience.

He knew that, at the very least, whatever was in these creatures' mucus, it was creating more sperm in his balls than any human was naturally capable of.

Had his mind not been overloaded by this point he might have feared possible side effects.

Eventually he was forced out of the creatures' vaginas and fell to the floor with an unceremonious flop.

Laying spread-eagled and panting on the ground, Quinton initially didn't realize that he wasn't being assaulted at first.

He tried to move but his body was unresponsive.

He felt adrift and disconnected from it, yet still experienced the sensations it felt. It was if his mind and body had become distanced and were connected only by fragile strings like a clumsy marionette.

Any sensation felt was directed along those strings and to his mind but it felt like anything other than pleasure had been muted.

Like his brain had become so attuned to constant orgasmic rapture that it somehow developed a disinterest and ignorance of anything but.

Suddenly a figure plopped into view.

Quinton looked up at the shape, recognizing her instantly, but it was hard not to given that her figure was leagues more seductive and mature than the other girls.

The slug mother smiled down at her stud, betraying no sign of annoyance or malice for his attempt to escape.

She scooped the tiny man into her arms and held him close, letting her body's natural slime adhere to him and keep him from falling.

Now with some assistance, Quinton could see the other, younger girls looking at him with expressions that made it clear that they were far from satisfied.

The mother held him close as she slowly made her way back through the tunnels Quint had gotten lost in previously, followed along by a procession of her daughters.

His head rested between her large breasts that surrounded the sides of his face like heated pillows and her hands played with his genitals, one hand cupping his testicles sensually while the other edged his shaft with slow, deliberate movements.

Enough to keep him stiff but not enough to let him release.

She navigated the underground labyrinth with extreme ease, all the while keeping her charge in a state of constant blue balls in their long transit.

Perhaps this was his punishment for trying to escape, or perhaps she was prepping him for a rougher time with her and her daughters together.

Either way, Quinton spent what felt like hours being constantly edged as the slug monsters lived up to their appearance and proceeded with a casual speed even a pensioner could outpace.

After an eternity of edging hell, they arrived in the chamber Quinton and the Slug Mother spent several love making sessions in.

He briefly lamented on how he was back to square one again and not a step closer to escape, not paying attention to his surroundings that it took him a moment to realize just how horrific his situation was.

Inside the homey structure in the centre of the platform, what was once empty, cavernous space was now filled with several dozen pale bodies of young slug girls like the group that had assaulted him earlier.

They covered the walls, the ceiling the floor, everywhere and bustled against each other with slow, chaotic impatience.

They must have felt their mother's presence somehow because the moment she crossed the structure's threshold, the gathered horde collectively turned with wide grins on their faces that slowly melted into confused curiosity at the strange creature their mother clutched at her bosun.

With the eyes of dozens of horny, cock hungry creatures set on him and no control over his bodily functions to escape, Quinton felt a rare mix of arousal, fear and excitement tumbling into knots in his stomach.

He had already experienced just how much of a rough lover a handful of them were, now he had an entire roomful of these creatures ready to devour him.

With a knowing, sultry smile, the mother adjusted her grip so that his cock was freed with her grip, waving free and at full mast in front of the expectant audience before it.

Several licked their lips hungrily and others absently fondled themselves but they all grinned with manic lust as they surged forward with outstretched arms.

Just before he was consumed by a tidal wave of soft bodies and seized by the earthbound embodiments of pure lust, Quinton heard a faint, defeated chuckle escape him.

------------------------------------

Epilogue

Time did what time was always known to do and passed on in hearty ignorance.

Hours to days, weeks to months, the news of the disappearance of a young man from a small time most don't recall the name of came and went like the summer breeze.

Those that heard the news offered words of sympathy to any within earshot at the time but only a select few truly lamented his disappearance.

Deep underground however, the man known as Quint had long forgotten his life beyond the cavern labyrinth, the warmth of the sun and even his own name.

His mind, overburdened with the taste of pleasure couldn't even recognize the passage of time in his world tucked away from day and night.

In eternal twilight, he indulged in an orgy of rapture day in and day out.

Back when he could recall his name, fear had consumed him more than lust and he had made many attempts to escape the subterranean denizens.

He had spent his time roaming the winding passages in a confused haze, unable to pinpoint an exit that wasn't guarded by jagged spires of obsidian and narrow tunnels too steep and too smooth to climb.

His hosts, for the most part, remained unguarded and relaxed in the face of his many escape attempts.

They didn't try too hard to keep him in one place and presented him with many openings to exploit.

Perhaps their slug-likeness extended to a slothful and slow behaviour or perhaps they were just that confident that their prisoner couldn't escape them.

Every time he escaped he ended back into their clutches.

They would chase him to dead ends or catch him around corners and drop onto him from above - there were a few times where he'd escape into a tiny cubbyhole only for their malleable bodies to squeeze in after him and drag him out to be molested again.

Once he retreated desperately into a narrow gap ridged with jagged edges. He was cut up quite badly in his haste, but he found himself safe from his soft-bodied pursuers who seemed warded off from the black thorns.

But instead of retreating, the crowd remained and waited patiently for their prize to come to them, showing no sign of wavering or irritation all the while.

A mix of pain and hunger lured the young man out of his hole and into the embrace of his earnest lovers as they cared and nursed his body back to health.

Their omni-purpose mucus, he had learned did more than paralyze and arouse him it seemed.

No matter the cut or scrape he suffered in his exploration, their fluids healed him completely and it's ingestion provided the nutrients required to satisfy hunger and fend off starvation and dehydration.

After escaping capture for days, the young man was finally cornered only after having collapsed from starvation.

After days of being constantly fed the erotic formula he was finally back up to full strength, to which his nurses rewarded their hard work with a rougher round of sex befitting of his newly regained vitality.

Whatever the case, he could seemingly consume the slime endlessly as it was seemingly absorbed into his body rather than digested.

The only observable side effect being that, over time, he found himself losing his hair, from his pubic region to his chest, arms and of course, his head, much to his distress.

His skin had also become smoother, giving him an oiled, slick appearance that, while making him more nimble and allowing him to slip into smaller spaces than before, made his grip weaker and soon, escape slipped from "improbable" to "impossible".

After a while, he finally resigned himself to his fate.

Recognizing the inevitability of his situation as well as the lack of any threat to his well being - on the contrary, his surrender held far more benefits than flaws - the young man would find the mother slug wondering the tunnels and approach her open armed embrace with a longing heart and throbbing dick.

Every since then, every day had been spent in the comfort of the life of a stud to dozens of lascivious brides that never tired of his taste.

He would be passed about experiencing otherworldly pleasures one after another in the arms of a different lover.

Some would pin him against walls, locking their mouths together as they speared themselves against his solid spire, shaking and quivering in avaricious delight.

Sometimes he was sandwiched between multiple bodies as they fought for control of his mouth and cock and many times they loved to mount his prone body and, as they felt his hardness under their bulbous bodies, smothered him with their heavy but soft mass.

In a smaller crowd he was allowed to experience each girl individually as lovers but when a large sum had gathered, he was treated as a public toy, stuck to either a wall or the floor by their adhesive secretions, much like his first time with the mother, as they gangbanged his helpless self until he passed out.

There were also occasions where the girl he was making love to would snatch him up and hide him inside her pussy.

He would be consigned to her snug depths as she made her way deeper into the earthen maze, milked by her pulsating walls to constant ejaculation before she finally released him.

He would usually be released in a small space with only his kidnapper as company who would then proceed to sexually dominate her captive for hours, if not days on end - selfishly indulging in his taste without interruption.

This would continue until they were finally discovered to which the newcomers would either take him back or join in.

Occasionally he would be taken straight to a group of girls anyway to be enjoyed collectively in a corner of darkness tucked away and hidden from most of their siblings.

But not their mother...

She seemed to memorize the caverns better than her daughters and almost always knew where to find her favourite little stud.

Every time she did, gazing at him with that rapturous smile, she'd hold him close and edge him slowly as they made their way back to the creatures' "nest".

Out of all his voracious lovers, the mother slug was perhaps the most clingy.

She never let him leave her embrace once she got a hold of him and always allowed her daughters to drain him before she got a turn, clutching him tightly as the younger swarmed and coveted his cock, balls and nipples.

She'd occasionally tilt his head back and let a viscous trail of saliva roll down her extended tongue and into his waiting mouth, keeping him hard and obedient even if he no longer felt a need to run any more.

And when a break presented itself, she'd turn him around to face her, thrusting him as deep as he could go while clutching him tightly ad burying him deep into her cleavage.

She'd occasionally dig him back out to force a leaking nipple into his mouth, the plush, slick mound cushioning around him as she drove him deeper into the soft fat.

Other times she'd grip the back of his head and french him roughly, conquering his soul with her assertive tongue.

His favourite position of hers is when she places him on her back - tiny holes emerging to hold his hands and feet in tight, pulsating, wet pockets of flesh - while her daughters clambered up on top of her to mount and ride the restrained toy.

She did this often as she traversed the caves with her daughter milking her lover on her slimy bed.

While the creatures did not necessarily need to move in order to work his cock into submission the undulating motions of their lower bodies caused their upper bodies to rise and fall in rhythmic, bouncing motions - which, combined with their strained, pleasured breathing and moans made for an erotic sight.

His visual entertainment would continue until, usually after his third or forth customer, he'd feel his slimy bed shift and move him further up.

He'd soon find him self staring at the crotch of the mother, who had briefly raised her upper body to create a narrow gap between her feminine figure and her inhuman mass.

When positioned correctly, she'd slam her body down like a guillotine and trap him under her.

Though her crotch lacked the reproductive openings of a normal human, her sweet aroma burrowed deep into his nostrils and overrode any command he tried to bid his brain obey.

He soon found himself lapping at the crack of her abundant ass, tasting the droplets of her sweat that crept down her body and huffing her scent as if it were more valuable than oxygen.

His eyes, free from her crotch, could only stare up her curvy belly and past her cleavage where it caught a glimpse of her face often looking down at him with the purest expression of affection he'd ever experienced.

And though he couldn't see her eyes, he felt her gaze fixed on him as if addicted to the sight of him helpless beneath her.

More girls would get up to ride him, who was blind to all but the sounds of their fevered gasps and moans.

After countless mistresses had their fill of the restrained cum dispenser, the mother would shift his body again until he was now lying flat on his belly with his dick submerged in a newly formed, tighter and wetter hole than the ones restraining his limbs.

She pumped him mercilessly and far longer than his previous lovers, all while his face was kept inches away from her voluptuous cheeks, bouncing from the movements of her lower body.

No...her movements were, perhaps, far too pronounced and exaggerated, as if to purposely highlight the jiggle of her meaty buns before her captive audience.

It wasn't just the erotic display that kept him going either, interrupting girls would occasionally, deprived of his member, lodge their curious tongues into his asshole to prompt him to swing his hips more wildly or snatch away his mouth and nibble on his ears as his gaze remained firmly locked on the jiggling spectacle before him.

This would continue until their journey took them back to the nest where he'd endure another bout of affection of all present.

But nothing compared to the mother when it was just the two of them.

Abandoned in the tunnels by his satisfied lovers, the stud was often picked up by another passing girl or, more commonly, the mother in her patrol, ready to take him back to their home with a parade of daughters eagerly trailing behind.

But on the rare occasion that she wasn't accompanied by anyone, she'd drag him off to places seemingly only she knew of before her affectionate expression turned to a predatory lust.

She ravaged him with a powerful aggressiveness he had never experienced until that moment.

As clingy as she was surrounded by her family, her disposition in private made her previous encounters seem almost bashful in comparison.

Holding him tight like a life line, she slobbered all over him like he was the juiciest, most delicious steak she'd tasted after days of starvation.

She gripped his hips with a vice-like hold and slammed him roughly into her like a jack hammer with such power, it seemingly knocked the breath out him with each thrust.

She also secreted more than ever before, perhaps owing to her immense arousal and it felt like a thick layer of milky slime mired her pale body and made it easier for her hapless lover to sink into her soft physique.

Though the passage of time escaped him in the world without sunlight, the mother would continue to rape him enthusiastically for almost several days on end before truly satisfying herself and bringing him back to the nest.

And when it was all over and his beautiful brides had grown too tired to continue, the last lover that held him (often the mother) would clutch him closely as she crawled her way up the cavern walls to the ceiling.

The first time it had happened, the man had panicked and feared that he might slip and fall but in spite of it all, the creature held true to her prize.

Dangling from the caverns' roof, between the forest of stalactites, the girl half of the creature would begin to sink into her lower body, dragging the young man with her into her depths.

Once fully submerged, the pink mass would curl in place until it resembled a giant, glossy pearl glistening in the darkness.

All the while a young man with no recollection of who he was beyond his life as a communal stud was held tightly in the embrace of an inhuman girl, nestled between her soft body and the slimy walls that pressed the two bodies together.

The hot environment and supple surroundings lured him to drowsiness and he would sleep in the gentle embrace of his lover's womb.

Until his awakening where he would greet another day of being passed from one infatuated partner to the next, he let himself relax, sheltered by the brides he loved so much.