Breeding the Slime Monster's Litter

Esther was eighteen the night she left the apartment and did not come back. She walked until the sidewalks ended and the woods took the road, jacket zipped to her throat, a canvas bag bumping her hip. Pine needles muffled her sneakers. Somewhere behind her a dog barked once and went quiet. She kept going because stopping meant turning around, and turning around meant the same locked room and the same voice telling her to be grateful. The dark between the trunks was better.

She heard him before she saw him: a wet drag, then a footfall that sank into the moss. When Gideon stepped into the thin moonlight he filled it. He was fully grown, a towering humanoid slab of muscle gone slick with slime, hide the gray-green of something pulled from deep water. It sheeted off his shoulders and ran in slow ropes down the carved lines of his stomach. His face was broad and heavy, pond-dark eyes set under a ridge of brow, mouth slightly open. The smell hit her, rot and rain and a sweet undertone that made her stomach flip. Disgust rose hot in her throat. She did not run.

He rumbled, a sound she felt in her teeth, and held out one enormous hand. Slime stretched between the thick fingers. Esther looked at that hand, at the power coiled in his arms, at the way his chest rose and fell under its gleaming coat. Curiosity pulled harder than fear. She put her palm in his. The slime was warm and clinging, and a shiver went straight down her spine.

He led her down a slope to a hollow under a shelf of stone. The lair smelled of damp earth and him. Fungus glowed faint along the walls. Water ticked somewhere in the dark. Gideon released her and lowered himself against the back wall, thighs spread, slime pooling under him in a shining puddle. Esther stood with her bag still on her shoulder, heart hammering, unable to look away from the slow slide of fluid over muscle that should have revolted her and did not, not entirely. She set the bag down. She sat. When gray morning found the mouth of the cave she was still there, knees hugged to her chest, watching him breathe, the ugly want already rooting behind her ribs.

She told herself she would leave at noon. Noon came and went. Gideon never reached for her unless she reached first. He only watched, patient and enormous, slime ticking onto the stone, and Esther realized she was leaning toward him every time he shifted.

Days settled into the damp. She drank from the trickle at the back of the hollow and ate what he brought, pale roots and strips of something she did not name. At night she slept closer than she meant to, the heat off his body fogging the air. On the third morning she woke with her cheek near his slick thigh and did not pull away. The slime had dried in a film on her skin. She rubbed it between her fingers and felt her pulse jump.

That afternoon she stood in front of him and peeled the jacket off. Then the shirt. Then her jeans, stumbling a little on the wet stone, panties last, dropped in a small heap she kicked aside. Eighteen and bare in a monster’s lair, nipples tight in the cool, the dark curl between her thighs already damp for reasons she was done pretending not to understand. Gideon’s rumble dropped lower. His eyes tracked the line of her stomach, the soft give of her hips.

“Look at me,” she said, and her voice only shook a little. “I want you to look.”

She stepped in until her knees brushed his. The smell was stronger here, thick enough to taste, and it made her mouth water in a way that shamed her and heated her at the same time. She set both hands on his chest. Muscle jumped under the slime. She dragged her palms down, slow, spreading the slick over the heavy slabs of him, thumbs catching on the ridges of his abdomen. “You’re disgusting,” she whispered, and smiled when he growled. “Big and wet and wrong. I like it. I want it on me.”

Something shifted low between his spread thighs. The slime there thickened, gathered, and then his cock pushed free of a heavy fold, enormous, ridged along the underside, coated in the same gleaming fluid that covered the rest of him. It hung heavy and then lifted, thicker than her wrist, the head broad and shining, a clear strand already swinging from the slit. Esther’s breath left her in a rush. Her cunt clenched on nothing.

“That,” she said, and wrapped one hand around as much of the shaft as she could. Hot. Slippery. It pulsed in her fist and more slime welled over her knuckles. “God, you’re huge. I want you to claim me with this. I want you to use me until I’m dripping. Will you? If I ask nice?”

Gideon’s answer was a grinding sound in his chest and a flex of his hips that pushed the cock through her grip. Pre-cum, or whatever the clear stuff was, spilled over her wrist in a warm rope. Esther sank to her knees in the puddle of him, slime soaking her shins, and opened her mouth.

“Give it to me,” she said against the broad head. “I want to drink you.”

She licked a stripe up the underside and moaned at the taste, salt and sweet rot and something mineral. Gideon’s huge hand settled on the back of her head, not forcing, only heavy, and she took that as yes. She stretched her lips around the head and sucked. He throbbed. The first spurt hit her tongue thick and sudden, hotter than she expected, so much of it that it flooded her mouth and spilled from the corners before she could swallow. She gulped, greedy, and another pulse followed, coating her throat. She drank that too, eyes watering, both hands working the shaft, milking him while she moaned around the head. Cum and slime mixed on her chin and dripped onto her bare breasts. She pulled off with a wet pop, strings stretching from her lips to his cock, and licked them up, panting.

“More,” she said, voice wrecked. “Don’t stop. I love how it tastes. Fill my mouth.”

He gave her another heavy spurt and she took it on her tongue, showing him before she swallowed, throat working, a filthy little sound of pleasure escaping her. Her free hand had found her cunt without her deciding to put it there. She was soaked, fingers slipping, clit swollen. She rubbed herself while she nursed the last slow pulses from him, swallowing every drop she could catch, smearing the rest over her lips like she wanted the smell to stay.

When the spurts eased she stayed on her knees a moment, cheek against the slick shaft, breathing hard. “I’m not done with you,” she told him. “I want it inside. I want you to breed me.”

She lay back on the packed earth of the lair floor, slime cooling under her shoulder blades, and spread her legs as wide as they would go. Her cunt was flushed and open, shining, a thin string of her own wet connecting her to the air when she reached down and parted herself with two fingers. Gideon loomed over her, cock still hard, still drooling, the sheer size of him blocking the fungus-light. Fear flickered and died under the want. She met his pond-dark eyes and begged.

“Please. Creampie me. I need your cum in my pussy. Breed this cunt. Put a litter in me, Gideon, I want it, I want all of it, please—”

He came down over her carefully for something so huge, one forearm braced beside her head, the other hand spanning her hip. The broad head nudged her entrance and she cried out at the stretch before he was even in. Slime eased the way. He pushed, slow, relentless, and her body opened around him in a hot, obscene give. Inch after thick inch. She felt every ridge drag her walls. When he bottomed out her belly looked faintly distended and her toes curled against the stone.

“Yes,” she gasped. “Oh fuck, yes, you’re in me, you’re so deep—”

He drew back and drove in again. The sound was wet and loud, a squelch that filled the hollow every time his hips met hers. Missionary, pinned under a monster, Esther wrapped her legs as far around his waist as they would go and held on. Each thrust shoved a little more slime and pre-cum into her, a warm flood that leaked back out around his shaft and ran down the crack of her ass. She was noisy and she did not care. She begged between moans, filthy and clear, telling him to pound her, to ruin her, to keep that disgusting cock buried where it belonged.

Gideon growled and obliged. The pace turned heavy, deep strokes that knocked the breath out of her and then gave it back as a broken cry. His slime smeared her breasts, her throat, her mouth when she turned her face into his arm and licked whatever she could reach. The taste made her clench. She came the first time like that, sudden and sharp, cunt fluttering around the impossible thickness, crying his name into the damp air while he kept fucking her through it, squelching, relentless, the head of him kissing the mouth of her womb on every thrust.

“Don’t pull out,” she panted when the orgasm ebbed into a shaky ache. “I want to feel it. Creampie me. Flood me. I need your cum in my pussy, Gideon, please, please give it to me—”

He snarled, hips snapping flush, and came. The first flood was enormous, a hot rush that ballooned inside her and had nowhere to go. She felt it hit deep, thick pulses painting her walls, packing her full until the pressure made her whimper. Cum leaked around his still-thrusting cock in heavy white-gray rivulets, mixing with slime, dripping onto the stone under her ass. She reached down and rubbed her clit hard, frantic, chasing the feeling of being used as a vessel. “Yes, yes, fill me, I love it, I love your cum in me—”

He was not finished. A second orgasm rolled through him while he was still buried, another massive load pumping into an already overflowing cunt. Esther sobbed with pleasure and came again, fingers flying, the wet slap of his hips and the gush of seed pushing her over. Her belly felt heavy. Warmth spread low and stayed, a claimed, stuffed heat she wanted to keep forever.

Gideon pulled out with a lewd sound and flipped her before she could mourn the emptiness. Big hands hauled her onto all fours, chest down, ass up, knees sliding in the mess they had made. She went willingly, eagerly, presenting her reddened, creampied cunt. Cum and slime strung from her hole to the floor. “Again,” she said, voice hoarse. “Breed me like this. Pound it back in. I want another one. I want so much I can’t hold it.”

He mounted her. The angle was deeper, meaner. His cock speared back into the sloppy heat and she shouted, fingers scrambling on the stone. He fucked her hard from behind, each thrust forcing a fresh squirt of his seed out around the seal of her stretched lips. The sound was filthy, wet skin and slime and the animal growl in his chest. Esther reached under herself and stuffed two fingers alongside his shaft as far as they would go, feeling him move, feeling the cum shift inside her, rubbing her clit with her palm until she was shaking.

“Harder. Give me another creampie. I can take it. I want to be dripping for days. Put your litter in this pussy and don’t you dare waste a drop anywhere else.”

He slammed deep and came a third time, a roaring pulse she felt in her guts. The load was so thick and so much that it jetted back out even with him plugged to the hilt, splattering her thighs, her fingers, the backs of her knees. She fingered herself through it, moaning, pushing the escaping cum back toward her hole with desperate little strokes, trying to keep every warm ounce inside. When he finally eased his thrusts she was limp and grinning into the dirt, womb packed, cunt fluttering around him in aftershocks.

He withdrew slowly. A flood followed, obscene, pattering onto the stone. Esther whined at the loss and twisted around at once, dropping from all fours to her knees between his legs, face level with the shining, cum-smeared shaft. It was still half hard, still pulsing, strands of thick slime-cum hanging from the head and webbing his heavy sack.

“Mine,” she said, and took him into her mouth again.

She sucked him clean with greedy, noisy pulls, tongue swirling, swallowing the mix of his seed and her own slick every time her throat worked. What she could not fit she licked, long stripes from base to tip, gathering every remaining drop and drinking it down. She mouthed his sack, slurped the strings, moaned when a last weak spurt landed on her tongue. Her fingers stayed busy between her thighs, pushing cum back into her swollen pussy, fucking it deeper while she nursed him. She pulled off only to speak, lips glazed, chin a mess.

“I love it. I love being filled. I love your cum in my pussy and I love drinking it. Don’t ever stop giving it to me. Breed me again tomorrow. Breed me until I can’t walk. I want to taste you every time you finish inside me.”

She swallowed the last mouthful and pressed a sticky kiss to the head of his cock, eyes bright, already aching for the next flood.

One month later the lair echoed with wet, mewling sounds. Esther’s belly, enormous and taut for weeks, had given way in a long, slick labor she rode with her hands braced on Gideon’s arms, and what came out of her was a huge litter: a squirming heap of small hybrid bodies, slick as their father, already strong, already clinging to her thighs and to each other. She laughed through the exhaustion, one hand on her still-soft stomach, and let them nurse and crawl while Gideon rumbled over all of them like a wall.

They did not stop. As soon as she could spread her legs again she begged him back between them, and he creampied her on the stone, in the trickle of water, against the fungus-lit wall. Another litter followed, and another. Years stacked in the damp. The young grew fast, towering and slimy and hungry for ground, and they poured out of the woods in numbers no town could turn back. Roads vanished under them. Cities went quiet, then wet, then theirs. The earth changed hands while Esther stayed in the lair and took her mate whenever he offered that massive cock, happily round again, palm spread over a new swell.

She was on her back in the afterglow of the latest breeding, cunt stuffed and leaking warmth down her ass, when she caught his wrist and tugged. “Again,” she whispered, smiling, mouth already opening for whatever he had left to give her.