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The mysterious and often life-threatening nature of the average dungeon has a way of changing the behavior of those who make a living delving into them.
Most change for the better. The inattentive force themselves to focus as a matter of survival. The lackadaisical muster rigor so as not to invite death into the lives of their companions. The headstrong are tempered such that prudent action and controlled aggression become the norm.
Some, however, change for the worse. While comparatively fewer in number, those who harbor traits like greed and anxiety are often consumed by them when faced with sufficient pressure. For any party wishing to return to the surface with enough of themselves to be revived, these individuals are a scourge to be avoided.
Finally, some do not change at all. Or more accurately, they do not change in a way that is significant enough to be noticeable. Whereas the uniformed and inexperienced presume them to be ignorant to their detriment, experienced adventurers recognize the core of the phenomenon at a glance.
Some are ideal by nature–perfectly suited for risking their lives daily, and in some cases, perfectly content to do so.
Whether their make is brought about by conscious understanding or an innate set of gifts, the result is always the same:
Flourishing persistence where the less ‘suited’ falter.
-
ISLAND DUNGEON – FLOOR ‘X’
Falin Touden was not one to disregard her older brother’s advice without good reason–in general, and particularly so within the confines of a dungeon. While not without her own talents in the realm of dungeon delving, growing up with him had seen her develop a 6th sense about when she could afford to deviate from one of his suggestions and when she needed to adhere to them.
When she needed to adhere to him, it was ordinarily because he was ‘correct’ overall. Doing so aligned with common sense. Doing so kept her safe. It helped the two of them survive together as they always did. More often than not, she found that she’d have acted just as he had recommended regardless of whether he thought to direct her as well.
Why had she pulled herself awake in the middle of the night to commit the cardinal dungeon sin of going off on her own was a matter of her fundamental nature. She knew that she was deviating from what was best for herself and the rest of her party, and she knew that she was engaging in this behavior at risk of her life.
In this case, however, she believed herself to be deviating from the norm for good reason.
“Oh, Falin. Have you heard about the monsters on this floor? We’ve never been that deep in this particular dungeon, but I did some research beforehand just in case.”
“Yeah, I know. I can get a little too into this stuff sometimes. This isn’t about food, though, so just hear me out, alright?”
“So, generally, the monster populations on this floor are pretty standard. There’s a lot of trickle-down from the floors above, so we shouldn’t have to adjust our formations and strategies too much to manage.”
“Now, I know we have plenty of food for this dive, and I know we’d never be able to convince the others to go along with it, but get this: apparently, monsters known as ‘Nutribeasts’ can be encountered on this floor. Every report I’ve read has described them as being both tasty and nutrient-rich–hence the name, I guess. Apparently, you don’t even need to kill them and eat their flesh to get at the nutrients, either. Details on this are fuzzy, but apparently their bodies produce some kind of substance that’s both edible and delicious!”
“Here’s the weird thing, though. None of the reports that have come in about it have included a stable description of what it looks like. Pretty much all of them state that they’re easy to defeat with either magic or weapons, but the visuals they’ve provided range from something shaped like an orc to strange-looking worms. My theory is that it’s actually something like a mimic and is changing its shape to avoid predators. I can’t prove it, of course, but it makes more sense than the alternatives in my opinion.”
“...”
“Hm? Oh, well, yeah. I suppose you’re right. We’re probably not going to get the chance to encounter one this trip. I’m just telling you in case we get lucky. All I’ll ask is that you keep your eyes open for anything that looks like it doesn’t belong.”
Where those uninitiated with Falin’s nature may’ve described her as spacy at a glance, those familiar with her benefited from her capacity for quiet observation and her natural talent for several branches of magic.
Barely an hour away from where she and her companions had made camp, she noticed that they were being followed. Not stalked by a predatory monster, not tailed by an antagonistic party, but followed. As their pace slowed, whatever was trailing behind them stopped moving so as not to be discovered. What was more, it remained exactly where she last sensed it well into the night.
Dungeon delves were treacherous. Even the most well-prepared parties could be expected to lose a member or two the deeper they went. Some were left in good enough condition to be revived–others were not so fortunate.
If by no means a saint, Falin saw no reason not to do whatever she could to ensure that she, her brother, and all of their companions enjoyed the most ‘comfortable’ delves possible.
In her mind, expending a little extra energy to secure an easily acquired and extremely nutritious food source fell well within the bounds of ‘whatever she could do’. For as much uncertainty swirled around the task she would actually be completing, the information that Laios had provided left her feeling confident enough to shrug it off.
And so, she strode. After clearing the stretches of dungeon where she might have sat in earshot for the rest of the party, she sharpened her pace and retraced her steps to the last point at which she had sensed the unknown creature’s presence.
Truth be told, a ‘fair’ pace for her was not fair by most definitions. Some combination of her genetics and eating habits had combined to see her develop into a young woman who was wider, more sharply curved, and pleasantly ‘meatier’ than one might expect of the average adventurer…
If one were to describe her modestly, at least. More realistic descriptions of her figure proved more explicit by necessity–whether one was male, female, or anything in between.
Per usual, the most ‘honest’ assessments of her frame were those delivered by the opposite sex. To their eye, Falin Touden was a young woman slightly above average in height and grossly above average by every other measure of femininity. Her frame offered appealing excesses of fat from the sloping bloat of her breasts to the natural rounding of her buttocks. Some areas had been fed far more thoroughly than others, but all of them combined to frame the female squishiness of her midsection and the cripplingly fertile curvature of her hips.
Her genetics had made her bust the foremost example of the ‘bias’ that her frame sometimes displayed. Whenever she attempted to move at a fair pace–which was often–a jiggle-prone curtain of flesh comprised of succulent, often sweat-greased breast flesh swayed, bounced, and clapped in accordance with every move that she made. Neither the well-sized robes she wore over her underwear nor the pliant material of the undergarments themselves could restrict the movement of her mounds in any sort of meaningful way.
The task had been set beyond them years ago. Being herself, Falin had stopped tracking her cup size after it edged into the ‘H’ range. Since then, the oblong teardrops had somehow grown fatter without sagging too far down to smother the perspiration-prone pudge of her midsection. They did sag, of course, but only under the demands of their own skull-dwarfing weight. This was to say that her mounds were more of a protruding shelf of mushiness than they were dead weight that weighed down her front.
Marcielle Donato persisted as one of the very few people privy to the suffocating softness that the bloated pillows offered. For that matter, she was also part of the ever-narrow group privy to the pale-wide width of the areola at their faces and the inverted plumpness of the nipples at their centers. Her time in school with Falin had educated her as to the bloated doorknob succulence that they brandished whilst erect, too.
Had either of these traits (or even her bust’s near two-foot protrusion whilst unbound by clothing) reached the cultural zeitgeist of the average male adventurer, her already impressive reputation may well have become something globalized.
As it hadn’t, her repute amongst the opposite sex was instead built on a foundation of her disposition, the sight of her clothed breasts, and the way the cellulite-kissed boulders of her buttocks pushed the backside of her robes into a similar state of stretched protrusion.
These were not the only points of appeal that others swore by, of course. Some considered the grip-worthy pudge glazed across her midsection to be more appealing than her rear. Others still believed that it was the unique tones of breastmilk that invaded her armpit sweat that made her stand out amongst her peers.
Most, though, agreed that the peach-rounded blubber of her buttocks was her second most significant claim to fame. Whereas her ‘heavier’ figure could have resulted in her rear becoming dumpy or offensively oversized, its excess moved in step with the excess that the rest of her frame offered. There could be no denying that the average tavern chair struggled to contain its plush, nor the fact that sharp lateral movement was somewhat difficult for her. Nevertheless, the fact remained that the underside of each of her cheeks cut perfectly into her thighs. No matter what she wore, where her cheeks ended, and the pillars of her thighs began were perfectly apparent–so much so that all of the males amongst the static members of the parties that she aligned herself with–excluding Laios–entertained thoughts of sinking a palm into pure cheek flesh at some point or another.
To reiterate, her fundamental biological appeal was tempered by what appeared to be relative indifference toward it. It was not a matter of her tastefully refraining from flaunting her gifts. She simply believed in her heart of hearts that she did not have anything about her worth flaunting.
Whereas most men considered this a point of appeal, women considered it to be an expression of quiet dishonesty on her part.
For Falin herself, her mindset was nothing more than a source of confusion–
At times–namely, the present–wrapping her head around why she was moving so slowly proved difficult.
“Hahhh…haahh…”
“Muhhh. Muri ka mo.”
“Muhhh. I guess I really can’t hurry unless I really need to. Maybe I’m still sleepy.” She thought to herself. “That’s ok, though. I’m almost there. I know what I’m looking for, too. I’ll have everything taken care of in no time,”
“Laios is going to be so…hyuuhh…surprised…”
A short stint of exertion in return for what would almost certainly be weeks of praise from her older brother struck Falin as an extremely fair trade. Immediately bolstered by the prospect of her reward, she pushed her ‘jog’ up as far as the peak of the corridor she was progressing through before coming to a stop.
If her measurements were correct, this was as far as she could go without alerting her stationary target to the fact that she had tracked it down. Given that it hadn’t moved in several hours, she reasoned that it had either fallen asleep or stopped to preserve energy before resuming its pursuit of their party. In either case, pushing into its territory without knowing exactly how sharp its senses were didn’t strike her as a particularly good idea.
First, she needed to steady her breathing. Pushing her back up against the left side wall of the corridor and holding still more than sufficed for this.
This done, she moved into her plan of action. ‘Weak’ or not, dealing with an unknown monster on her own required caution. Disorienting its senses with light magic before eliminating it was the safest approach, so she readied herself to produce the incantations required at a moment’s notice.
Another person might’ve required another moment to brace themselves.
She, however, moved the moment she was ready.
Her burst from around the corner carried none of her usual sluggishness. She produced her incantation without so much of a stutter and squeezed the perpetual closure of her eyes shut even tighter when an eruption of light burst from the peak of her staff.
One. Two.
Three.
After three beats was when her spell ceased to be blinding and merely became bright. She counted in her head just to be sure, and had her next spell ready for release right on time. All that remained was opening her eyes ever so slightly to ensure she didn’t release it in the wrong direction.
What she expected when she set her closed-eyed gaze on the space ahead of her was a reeling monstrosity flailing in search of an assailant.
What she found was a ‘monstrosity’ sized and shaped as a child sprawled out back first across the ground.
The moment she laid eyes on its frame, something changed. All of her preparedness was replaced by confusion and curiosity, and the quiet tension that fueled her efficiency evaporated–
It was as if a knot inside her had been loosened by its very presence.
“...”
“Ma. Tashika ni Raiosu ha mugai da to iiimashita.”
“Well. Laios did say it was basically harmless.” She thought to herself. “I didn’t expect it to be so harmless that it’d sleep through magic, though. It’s…”
“It’s kinda more of a little boy than it is a monster.”
Falin’s eyes had not failed her. Seemingly unconscious on the ground ahead of her was a monster crossed between the giant mice and rats that inhabited the early floors of most dungeons, and the juvenile orcs and goblins that infested the floors slightly below that. As far as she could tell, it was neither too much of one, nor too little of the other. Sizeable grey mouse ears extended away from the opposing sides of its head, but its facial structure maintained some of the vaguely ‘humanoid’ features maintained by the sentient and bi-pedal monster species she was familiar with.
The monster was not entirely innocuous, of course. Trailing her gaze from its skull down past its midsection revealed a sight that set her thoughts on some of the descriptors her brother had used when describing the ‘Nutribeast’.
Obscuring a portly midsection hewn from babyfat and…’interesting’ eating habits was a sharply scented tower of flesh that was nearly longer than its owner was tall. Falin’s nature was such that she did not immediately recognize the clay-colored spire (or the testicle-bloated satchel that consumed the floor space underneath it) as the monster's genitals. The realities of sexual reproduction were not lost on her, but what her eyes took in blended with her brother’s descriptions such that her air-headedness decided that the spire was more likely to be the source of the ‘nutrients’ that Laios mentioned than anything else.
In her mind, it was the only thing that made sense. The organ that extended from the monster’s crotch was well over a foot in length, yet somehow maintained a girth that reminded her of her brother’s clenched forearm. Imposing dimensions aside, blood vessels swelled to the point that they acquired grotesque, wriggling plumpness could be seen creeping upward along its underside into what could only be a series of congested overlapping(s) at its face.
Rather than wonder about what these layered grubs might look like squirming atop one another, Falin took advantage of the monster’s unconsciousness to confirm the sight for herself…
Or she tried to, at least.
“...”
“Aa. Mitsuketa. Eiyoubutsu ha koubiritsuiteimasu ne…”
“Aa, found it. Laios was right–the nutrients its body makes are really caked on there.”
To what extent Falin’s life experience had actually failed her was debatable. When her assessment of the organ’s top side led her eyes into contact with the fringes of a layered mess of steaming, yellow-white phallus filth that utterly obscured the bulbous cockflesh it had settled atop, she immediately concluded that the substance had to be the ‘highly nutritious’ substance that the creature secreted in excess. Contrary to what the endowment of her frame may’ve implied, her sheltered upbringing and equally sheltered daily life had yet to expose her to the reeking grossness that could be found smeared, or in this case, ‘caked’ to the genitals of sexually active males.
Succinctly, she had never seen a lumpy, glans-consuming excess of yellowed smegma before, and thus had no way of recognizing it. The same was true of the innumerable arcs of oily black pubic hair that could be seen threaded throughout the gunk’s exterior–the threads did not match her personal definition of what pubic hair was supposed to look like, so she assumed that it was something else entirely.
The ‘failings’ of her upbringing ended here. For all of the novelty maintained by what she was looking at, the fact remained that a miasma of stench and humidity teemed from every inch of the unconscious monster’s exposed crotch. Closer investigation meant immersing herself in this reek as a matter of course. Slowly but surely, she went from staring at it from several overhead angles to dropping down onto her knees off to the monster’s left to peek in at it from up close.
Doing so immediately renewed the perspiration that she had overcome during her jog into the area, and stung her nostrils such that a thin stream of mucus began drooling from both of them. Conventional feminine reactions to these sensations included revulsion and disgust. Whatever mix a young woman experienced, they could be expected to retreat in response lest their senses be permanently stained by over-exposure.
Falin’s reaction was nonplussed–
Were it not for the audible growling of her stomach and the streams of feverish sweat that drizzled down along the front of her face, one could have been forgiven for assuming that she hadn’t felt anything at all.
*Gyuuuuuu…*
“Sugoi. So it really does exist. It’s a monster with a body that makes delicious stuff.” She thought to herself. “It smells really ripe, so it must be as healthy as Laios said it was. There’s so much of it, too. It’s a good thing I remembered to bring along an extra pouch.”
“But wait…”
As her thoughts drifted back toward the task at hand, what those tasks demanded of her pushed her gaze back up to the creature’s skull.
“How do I harvest it again? I remember Laios saying that these monsters are very easy to destroy, but…”
“Is that really the only way?”
Although without certain forms of common sense, the harsher realities of life within dungeons (and life in general) were not lost on Falin. Livestock had to be killed in order to be consumed. Similarly, the monster populations inside dungeons needed to be ‘managed’ by adventurers if they wished to survive exploring them. She had separated herself from her companions with the resolve to defeat a monster and harvest whatever she could from its body for her brother’s sake if necessary.
And yet, she still wavered. Not only did the monster ahead of her seem harmless, but he was so blissfully unaware of the world around him that he continued to sleep even now.
Yes–him. Minutes of observation had resulted in Falin coming to her own conclusions about its gender, which only complicated her circumstance further.
Given enough time and self-preparation, the impasse that she had arrived at was one that she could clear–albeit just barely. Doing so promised to be unpleasant, but many aspects of dungeon exploration were.
Unbeknownst to her, the growling of her stomach spared her well before she was forced to make a decision. At her new proximity to the Nutribeast, the modest gurgle her middle produced doubled as a delayed alarm clock.
A brief fluttering of his eyelids gave way to the exposure of a pair of amber-colored eyes–
Both of which curled to stare directly up at her.
“Oh. Good morning, Nutri-chan,”
“Please don’t attack me, ok? I don’t want to have to hurt you. I just need to figure out a way to collect the nutrients your body makes, then maybe I can just–”
Falin’s decision to address the monster with a name made up on the spot was an unearned show of good faith at a moment that warranted one of immediate retreat or caution.
Appropriately, the ‘reward’ that she earned for it was an immediate ‘attack’ from the monster she had addressed. She had no time to brace herself against its front-first leap toward her front, nor time to defend against it. A reflexive tensing of her upper body was all that she could manage.
As it turned out, though, even this was ‘overkill’ for surviving the attack itself. Instead of sinking claws or fangs into the innumerable pockets of excess plush that her frame offered, he, too, did what common sense demanded. Beastial musculature and reflexes combined to snap the underside of his shaft into compression against a ‘landing strip’ comprised between Falin’s covered stomach fat and the oppressive bloat of her breasts. Claws were driven toward the plush of her waistline, but not for the purpose of cutting into her. Just enough force was applied to ‘hook’ their tips into the fabric of her robe to ensure that the weight of his front was braced against her larger, softer body. Limitations in the monster’s wingspan meant that this effort mirrored a wide embrace more than anything else as well.
The ‘worst’ part of his assault lay in what came afterward. Well before Falin recognized that she wasn’t in any immediate danger, he used his contact with her front just as any other unrestricted male might’ve.
Animalistic, up-and-down pumps of his crotch began grinding greasy phallus flesh up and down along Falin’s front.
Her body was spared from harm, but the fabric of her clothing was irreparably damaged in the space of several seconds. Claw marks could be sewn away, and conventional messes could be scrubbed out with enough effort–
What ‘Nutri-chan’ progressively smeared off into her front was not so easily dealt with.
“MAAAAAAATTTEEEEE!!”
“LET’SMATELET’SMATELET’SMATE!!!”
Evidently, Nutribeasts were capable of simple speech. The first words to erupt out of Nutri-chan’s throat did not contain any of the violent, declarative intent that Falin expected from sentient monsters, but by this point, their absence wasn’t much of a surprise to her. For her, what dragged her eyes apart in surprise in the wake of their delivery was the ‘compromise’ that they tabled, and shortly afterward, the reality that something resembling a compromise existed for the two of them in the first place.
Second by second, she came to understand her position instinctively–
All she needed to do was hold herself still.
“...Oh, I get it! This is how monsters like you secrete their nutrient stuff, isn’t it? It’s working really well already!” She exhaled, happily. “If that’s all, I can help! I’ll stay right here, and you can get rid of as much as you want,”
“It’s very nice of you to be so reasonable, by the way.”
Again, ‘gaps’ in Falin’s life experience meant that connecting the dots set ahead of her in the way that they needed to be connected was a bit beyond her. What ‘mating’ for monsters and animals constituted had a very clear picture in her head, the contents of which conflicted with the desperate pumping that her monstrous suitor was producing in the present. As such, what should have been the onset of an intense embarrassment and disgust for her instead welcomed a mixture of appreciation and intense focus into her psyche.
Perhaps the growing smears of oily smegma squeezed across the dead center of her robes and the growing assortment of precum streaks across the face of her cleavage were to blame. For every phallus-to-front stroke her suitor produced, the messes that the organ had created across her front were fed one of volume or intensity.
The foremost example of the latter was impossible to miss. No matter if the organ was climbing across her front or sliding back down along it, some amount of the layered phallus-filth obscuring its crown was pushed into the fabric of her robes as melted butter across a warmed loaf of bread. In this case, though, the ‘butter’ in question was so poorly melted that a semi-solid pathway of the substance was built from a point just above her navel to one just below the peak of her protruding cleavage face.
The thicker (and longer) this trail became, the more reeking humidity it introduced into the air space most immediate to her. Falin hardly noticed it at first, but the heat and stench somehow left her more amicable to the ruination of her clothing than she might have been otherwise.
Her perception of the milky precum that spurted out across her cleavage face was the same. The tightness of her suitor’s embrace and the intensity of his thrusts were such that even the forward sloping of her breasts was pushed into something resembling ‘compression’. As the peak of any one of his strokes delivered an increasingly ‘clean’ cocktip up past the ‘height’ of her compressed mounds, the blurts of precum that escaped his urethra jetted out into a series of gooey streaks and layers across her cleavage face.
If ‘less offensive’ when compared to the nostril-moistening reek of the smegma across her front, the substance still offered a heady virility that managed to stand out in the offensive miasma that had consumed her airspace. The end result was a mixture of numbing stink and arousing virility for her senses–both of which Falin failed to recognize until they had already seeped into the core of her brain.
Beyond the satisfaction of his own perverse urges, these changes were precisely what ‘Nutri-chan’ sought to achieve in his parasitic embrace of her front.
Falin had guessed correctly. Not only did he maintain a vaguely human-like sentience, but both his age and sense of self were those of a child. A child with an extremely warped definition of self-preservation, but a child all the same.
In the same way that Falin had recognized his presence shortly after her party moved down into the floor that he called home, he recognized her as a target worth pursuing immediately. More specifically, the sweetly scented fertility that teemed from her healthy body mass demanded that he put all of his ‘still-developing’ smarts and the skill set that they supported to the task of ensnaring her.
Thus far, everything had gone to plan. What remained promised to be far more difficult, and worse still, far more time-consuming. This was a problem for another time, however.
In the present, the only thing that he needed to concern himself with was his stroking metronome.
*PLAPP-FLORP-PLAPP-FLORP-PLAPP*
In the space of a pair of minutes, some combination of perspiration from his crotch and precum from his length had rendered the front of Falin’s robes as sodden as they were filth-caked. This made his squeezing strokes along her front smoother and faster, but noisier as well. If one listened closely, the sound of his testicles slapping against Falin’s covered stomach fat and the gluey strokes of his erection along her front remained perfectly distinct from one another..
For ‘Nutri-chan’, these noises, combined with the wet softness of Falin’s front, were enough to simulate penetrative sex for him. Their onset arrived only shortly after the bulk of his glans was freed from the flesh-obscuring excess of smegma that had consumed it, which effectively made them the perfect fuel for him to push himself straight into an orgasm.
Per his nature, he did exactly this. His grasp on Falin’s hips grew tighter, and the curled upward thrusts he delivered became more erratic. A half effort at keeping his teeth grit in aggression dissolved into an open-mouthed huffing that left the length of his tongue splayed out across the left side of his maw.
Everything he required for a satisfying orgasm had been handed to him, and yet, something else was heaped onto the pile as well.
Abruptly, Falin raised one of her arms. Experience suggested she was motioning to shove him, but the surgical craning of her right hand up to the ‘path’ of filth that had been smeared into her front argued that her intentions were not quite so aggressive. In between one of his strokes, she deftly scooped the tips of her index, middle, and ring fingers into the fattest mountain of caked-on smegma that she could find. Then, as though her doing so meant nothing at all, she calmly plugged her freshly wadded fingers (and the massive scoop of filth that they carried) straight into her mouth.
Given the plushness of her frame, how effortlessly she slurped her fingers clean wasn’t particularly surprising. The appearance of greasy pubic hair on the opposing sides of her mouth was somewhat forgettable as well. There was no way around their appearance with how large a mouthful she had consumed; the chewing that followed merely exacerbated an already-perverse display.
None of these things hit Nutri-chan as squarely as her display’s climax.
*Mogu...mogu…mogu..*
*GLRP!!*
“Oooohhh…”
“Wow, that’s delicious, Nutri-chan! This stuff is really, really yummy!”
“I know you’ve already, uhm, ‘secreted’ a bunch of it, but would it be ok if you smeared all of it on me?”
“You see, I have some friends nearby who I think would really enjoy it, too!”
It was a multi-faceted impact at its core. There was her unaffected swallowing, then the genuine, airy happiness in her voice as she spoke with gunk clinging to the back of her throat. These things took all of the stimuli she had already offered and produced a chemical reaction whose product was crippling novelty.
All at once, the Nutribeast’s readiness for an orgasm was replaced by an immediate need for one. A single, full-length stroke beyond this point fulfilled this ‘need’ several times over, and in turn saw him meet Falin’s question with something other than words.
Just as she craned her gaze further over the compressed face of her breasts in search of his face, he burst. A flourish of semen wadded at the root of his urethra in the time that he spent stroking erupted from the nose of his shaft into a straight-on impact with her face.
Both the eruption itself and that which accompanied it were almost abnormally disgusting–
By this point, though, it was to be expected.
*BLLLOOORSSHH!!*
‘Nutri-chan’s’ orgasm differed from a traditional human release in several areas, all of which were immediately apparent to the eye. Off-white coloration was not unheard of where backed-up male orgasms were concerned, nor was a certain amount of infusion with lumpy blubber. In both cases, though, the way that his seed displayed these traits was excessive. The sludge that surged up to a splatter against Falin’s face was a deeply jaundiced white that seemed more akin to porridge than reproductive fluid. What was more, there was too much of it. Contained within the beginnings of his orgasm was a decorative fountain’s volume of semen. Slop was glazed to her pristine features, then layered, then displaced in anticipation of even more discharge. The coming and going of barely 3 seconds of outflow saw heavy dollops of excess sludge drawn into globby descents onto the mushed face of her cleavage.
As if this by itself was not ‘abnormal’ enough, the initial gushing expulsion that drew the cleared nose of his urethra into a perpetual state of yawning was only the first of many. While not quite ludicrous enough to flow out as a single, sustained stream, the end of the first urethra-fattening burst his shaft produced was followed by the eruption of another. And then another.
If these subsequent discharges lacked the ‘pressure’ set behind the first, they may not have been so remarkable. Given the sheer amount of surface area Falin’s cleavage face had set on offer, the sight of several lumpy semen strands getting laid out across it may have even struck the mind of the average degenerate as a practical use of an obscenely-sized canvas.
But they were. One after another, the half-caked state of Falin’s face was repeatedly ‘re-splattered’ with semen. The resulting mix of layering and displacement was the same, but over time, more of her appealing features were obscured by an especially nasty brand of semen.
The sludge itself was not the only ‘problem’ invited by the monster’s orgasm, either.
First and foremost, there was the noise.
*BLURRT—SPLOOORTT–-CUMMM—SPEWWWW*
“UuuguggHIIIII!!!!”
As if to provide some kind of ‘advance warning’ of their own foulness, the individual surges of semen that Falin was attacked with were preceded by distinctly sewage-like splattering noises. Blended into their discharge were sustained squeals and groans from the child-sized creature that was responsible for them. Even if one did not understand his efforts as an attempt at reproduction (Falin), the quality of these howls carried a distinctly sexual quality that was impossible to ignore.
The same went for the ripples and convulsions that cut through the meat of his cocktrunk all throughout. Though their explicit purpose was to assist in squeezing genetic material out of his length in some way, the placement of his shaft meant that they also doubled as a means through which he could convey meaning.
*THROB*
“Your genes are mine now.”
*THROB*
“I’ll stain you with semen until it’s the only thing you want to consume.”
*THROB*
“Females exist for mating.”
With every contraction that erupted through the spire, ‘words’ were conducted through the covered plush of Falin’s midsection such that the feminine organs that her plush shielded heard them loudly and clearly.
They had been primed to, after all. A foundation of scent built by the reeking smegma that remained smeared to her clothing even now was built up by the virile ‘freshness’ of the semen doled out between her face and breasts until it was undeniable. However off-putting, the humid miasma surrounding Falin and her miniature suitor was meant to make mating less a suggestion and more an inevitability for all those consumed by it.
Falin was not immune to its effects–not in the way that she needed to be, at least. From the beginning of ‘Nutri-chan’s’ orgasm right through to the last fattened wad of slop to wriggle up to the nose of his length, she attended to his release as any other shell-shocked young woman. In her case, though, crippling revulsion was replaced by genuine curiosity. Arousal invaded her frame and produced the physiological effects that one might expect, but even the collaboration of several of them at once was not enough to overcome her nature.
Whilst her inner walls slipped into a state of drooling convulsion, her thoughts remained consumed by matters of practicality.
“Uwah. Mada deru no? Nutri-chan yasashi!”
“Wow. It’s still splurting out, huh? Nutri-chan’s so nice–he must’ve understood me! If it’s this much, I’ll have plenty to take back for everyone else.”
“I wonder if this stuff is just as edible as the other stuff, though. Laios said that the substances his body makes are edible and nutritious, but he didn’t say anything about their bodies having more than one type of it.”
“Hm…”
“Maybe no other adventurers asked for it the way I did? If that’s true, Laios will be the first person to report on it,”
“All I have to do is taste test it and make sure it’s safe to eat!”
There could be no arguing that the twitching of her uterus was in some way responsible for the ‘path’ that her thoughts ended up treading. At the same time, though, the driving force behind them remained the same one that Falin had maintained when she first set out in search of her target.
Right when it became apparent that her suitor had spewed out all of the ‘substance’ he intended to share with her, she followed through. Without a hint of apprehension, she moved her left hand up to her face and applied her index and middle fingers as something between a shovel and a plough. Beginning with her left cheek, she pushed the pancaked blobs of semen caked to the region in toward her mouth, then parted her lips to ensure that the volume she pushed had somewhere to go.
She did not limit herself to just this. Before the mess she pushed could fall onto the face of her tongue, she curled her tongue toward it. She even ‘folded’ its face so that it might function as a proper basin for the substance.
One good shovel stroke deserved another. The first excess of semen she pushed into her mouth was enough to almost completely obscure the face of her tongue, but Falin was practiced. As she moved on to collecting a second, she tilted her head backward to see the first payload she had collected pulled toward the back of her throat. Its movement was sluggish, but the Nutribeast’s sludge was not immune to gravity. Enough of it moved to ensure that when next she pushed a tongue-obscuring excess of the substance into her mouth, space was available to accommodate it.
One by one, she pushed the most egregious splatter patterns she had collected into her mouth just like this. Then, after filling her mouth to an extent that she deemed comfortable, she pressed her lips together to encapsulate it all as though it were nothing at all.
But it wasn’t–
So far as Nutri-chan was concerned, it never would be.
*Mrlsh-mogu-mrrrlsh-mogu-mlrrsh…*
Not plugging her mouth to the point of bursting served a specific purpose for her. Like this, there was just enough space for her to chew the…uniquely flavored mire she had collected into something less chunk-laden. Something that she could swallow within a few seconds as opposed to hours that she might’ve required otherwise.
Being no stranger to processing meals, her only real ‘obstacle’ in this was her desire to savor the substance’s flavor for as long as she possibly could. What time it had spent inside her mouth thus far guaranteed that she’d be tasting it for several days to come, but for Falin, this wasn’t nearly enough–
So she ‘blended’ it. A certain amount of time flattening curds of nut into slop left her mouth slightly fuller than it had been before. Specifically, her mouth was left precisely as full as she needed it to be. Cheeks plumped, she threaded the slightest amount of air between her lips and used it (alongside her cheeks) to work the staining genetic material into a brisk ‘rinse’ through the confines of her mouth–or as brisk as its cement-like consistency allowed.
With this, it became her turn to act as the primary source of perverse sexual noise within the dungeon.
*SLRSHSLRSHSLRSHSLRSH*
Facially unaffected as she worked, she repeatedly deflated and inflated her cheeks with semen and air until what remained in her mouth was a simple slurry. This done, she swallowed without ceremony. What seemed to be the slightest furrowing of her brow consumed her features for a moment, but only just. Beyond this point, she seemed as she would’ve been whilst draining a heavy cream or milk down her throat.
*GLRP—GLRP—GLRP—GLRP*
What seemed to be in this case aligned with Falin’s perception of reality. Her taste buds were fully functional, and her tastes relatively conventional. She did not make a habit out of chugging raw, bitter-sour mire in her spare time, nor was she sexually experienced enough to have acquired a taste for it for practical reasons. Nevertheless, she viewed the slop that she pressed into her gullet as a treat–something to coat her stomach with sooner rather than later.
The way it clung to the back of her throat demanded she strain to shift the burden it created into her esophagus. A single mouthful shouldn’t have required multiple swallowing efforts to ensure that the snail-trails that were stretched down to her stomach did not grow too thick, but they did. In due time, tears were pushed to a trickle from the corners of her partly semen-caked eyes as well.
Yet she continued.
Even when she finished with the task she had assigned herself, her countenance went largely unchanged. The only ‘clue’ as to the nauseating feat she had accomplished came in the form of a reflexive tapping of her lips with her index, middle, and ring fingers against her lips when all was said and done.
It wasn’t an attempt at stifling regurgitation–
It was a simple display of manners.
*Aaahp♥*
“Hwahh…sumimasen.”
“Gochisousama deshita ♥. Thank you very much for the extra meal, Nutri-chan. I’m sorry–I probably ate a little too fast. It was very tasty, though!” Falin exhaled, voice swathed by satisfaction.
“I don’t mean to sound greedy, but I can’t really tell if you answered my question or not, though,”
“Does this mean that there’s some way that you’d be able to give me enough of your substance to take back for my friends?”
Contrary to the implications of his outward appearance, monstrous sexual degeneracy, and the unintelligible grunts he had produced whilst stroking himself to completion along Falin’s front, ‘Nutri-chan’ was still mentally present. What was more, he was fluent enough in the language of Tallmen to grasp what Falin was asking of him. His refusal to converse directly with her up until this point was a direct result of the ‘importance’ that he placed on emptying his balls before anything else.
As one might have imagined, the numbing euphoria that swallowed his mind in the wake of his release did little for his desire to start speaking. Thankfully, what Falin’s address lacked in raw motivational quality was supplemented by a special brand of feminine warmth.
In short, her words left him pliant.
“Y-
“Ye’sh.”
“Give.”
Two raspy words from his throat sufficed to produce the result he sought–
Falin’s arms enveloped his upper back and squeezed his front (and his half-erect endowment) into tighter contact with the destroyed front of her robes.
“Yaaay. Thank you so much, Nutri-chan!”
“I can’t wait for you to meet Laios and the others!”
-
TRUTH
Strictly speaking, the true nature of the monsters known to adventurers as ‘Nutribeasts’ is known by every adventurer who encounters one of them. Both the disgusting excesses of semen that they produce and the filth that can be found caked to their genitals more often than not are burnt into the minds of these young women such that every cell in their body acquires a loose understanding of it.
Why none amongst this exclusively female group can recall when reporting on the creatures is to do with the ‘claim to fame’ that defines the species as a whole. To counterbalance their harmless appearances, Nutribeasts maintain instinctual access to illusory magics that are impossible to defend against without preparing countermeasures in advance. Through them, they alter either their target’s perception of them, their bodies, or the acts that they engage in together to ensure that they can rid themselves of as much genetic material as possible. Once finished, they alter key memories concerning the experience into something harmless or comforting for the young woman in question.
That most of these alterations involve adjusting their forms into something that the average adventurer might find satisfying to slay is completely irrelevant to them. For these monsters–and all monsters–fear-inspiring existences and dignified presences count for very little when compared to the persistence of their genes.
Nutri-chan was no exception to the practices of his kind or their general perspective on survival. His meager years had seen him ensnare and subsequently release a fair few young women after relieving himself.
He had intended to do the same with the latest.
Intended.
After experiencing the bliss of emptying himself all over her frame, some combination of her disposition and his desire to experience this bliss again sooner rather than later necessitated that he do the unthinkable by accompanying her back to where she and her companions had made camp for the night to provide more of the ‘substance’ that he and his kind were known for.
Arrival at the adventure-populated expanse proved unnerving. Though none of them were conscious, he had learned to recognize those who were capable of ending his life from a distance. Instinct demanded that he begin building illusions capable of blinding them to the mess that had been made of their companion, but the larger problem of how to obscure his presence loomed large.
For better or worse, Falin did not allow him to dwell on this subject for long. While oblivious to his larger aims, she, too, had intentions for her return to camp with him.
These intentions had been conveyed to him several minutes prior. It was only after her front-first collapse onto a patch of ground specially set out for her that Nutri-chan grasped their contents.
“Huwahhh…nemui…”
“Sorry about that, Nutri-chan. I’m still really sleepy–this is normally when we’d all get some rest, but I decided that coming to find you was more important…”
“Do you think it’d be ok if you made more of your food stuff while I sleep? As long as you stay close to me and don’t try to hurt anyone in the camp, I promise that you’ll be safe. Even if it’s only for tonight.”
“I’ll make sure to talk to Laios about how to repay you as well.”
As with all of the requests that had come before it, Nutri-chan had blindly agreed to her terms so as to keep clinging to her. This made her descent onto the ground a minor surprise, and quickly turned the snore-peppered silence that spread across the camp deafening.
Needless to say, her collapse into slumber changed nothing where the purpose of her presence was concerned–
Within seconds of Falin losing consciousness, he set about filling the air space of the camp with the sound of sodden flesh beating against softer, equally sodden flesh.
*PLORP-PLORP-PLORP-PLORP-PLORP*
In a word, his approach to self-satiation was ‘brain-damaged’. After all but ruining the front of Falin’s dress with a combination of semen and cockfilth, his first instinct was to ensure that both sides of her were marked ‘equally’. With Falin unconscious, though, there was little reason for him to settle for experiencing the warmth of her flesh through the fabric of her robes. Risk was what had delivered him to this point–
One additional investment in it seemed natural.
“I am now realizing….I do not know how humans usually sleep.”
“Is too much noise…bad? Will the others wake up if I do too much? Will she?”
“...”
“It doesn’t matter. If I am found, the result will be the same either way.”
Thoughts along these lines rippled through Nutri-chan’s mind as he found the lower ends of Falin’s robes with his clawed hands. Equal parts deft and abrasive, he pushed the fabric up across the plush of her thighs, then over the mountainous mushiness of her buttocks.
As soon as the pale flesh was exposed, he penetrated it. Yes–penetrated. Straddling her thighs and lowering himself down to a squat set the steaming nose of his erection at point just above the underside of both of her cheeks. From here, a downward hook of his crotch squeezed the drooling nose of his glans into compression by their oppressive bloat.
What greeted his glans eventually greeted the entire grotesque trunk of his erection. The ‘orifice’ constituted by her buttocks fat was not so taut or congealed as to actually prevent him from sinking into it. At the same time, though, the sheer amount of flesh on offer meant that hilting himself remained satisfying.
Not as satisfying as sawing his shaft back and forth through their embrace while beating the face of his crotch flush with her cheeks, but satisfying enough.
“Khhhh….”
“This female…is like one large orifice. I’m getting sucked into it.”
“I need to mate with her more. I need to mark her with my seed more.”
“Moremoremoremoremore…”
Being male, avoiding such thoughts while the squirming vein systems of his erection were choked by moist ass fat was impossible. It was true that his thoughts were particularly feral and depraved relative to what one of his more ‘measured’ peers might’ve produced–he was a monster defined by perversion, after all. However, were a normal male to ever find themselves in his position, verbalizations along these lines would have bubbled up to the surface of their psyches all the same.
It was unavoidable. A single reel of his erection from out of the cheek-splitting hilt that he had produced made the weight of Falin’s cheeks ‘realer’. This was to say that their sandwiching of his cocktrunk sufficed to drag heady expulsions of excess semen and fresh precum up through his urethra as he retreated. The fatty peach-halves were incapable of the sort of suction and convulsion on offer inside one of her holes, but their mass and texture offered something that was just as addictive in its own way.
At the end of a given retreat, Nutri-chan’s foremost priority was spearing himself down to a hilt again. Though he scarcely unplugged more than half of his erection from the embrace of her cheeks, even this much retreat was enough for the meat of her cheeks to sink back into contact with one another. Naturally, this meant that depressing himself back down to where he had started required that he produce enough force to push the sodden plush of her cheeks’ inner sides away from one another again.
By definition, the sensations attached to the effort were addictive. Slowly but surely, his threading out the remainder of his last orgasm alongside innumerable unruly blurts of excess precum turned this ‘addictiveness’ into yet another activity that his mind put on par with actual intercourse. The space between Falin’s asscheeks wasn’t something that could be ‘bred’, but his instincts didn’t care. So far as they were concerned, the gooey embrace of her asscheeks still deserved to be rut with enough intensity to ensure that they ended up ‘pregnant’ when all was said and done.
Flaring instincts and biological disposition typically made for a noisy combination. Minutes into his stroking effort, the snores of Falin’s companions were utterly drowned out by the sound of Nutri-chan’s shaft gutting the space between her asscheeks. Beyond this point, the sound of precum-caked buttocks flesh being forced apart by his erection was blended amongst an existing sound base to create an outflow that was almost indistinguishable from traditional intercourse.
The odds of any group of seasoned adventurers remaining unconscious while so much foreign noise consumed the space around them were slim. The odds of their taking kindly to a monster mindlessly rutting atop one of their companions were even slimmer. Nutri-chan’s survival instincts should have guarded some part of his ‘sense’ in anticipation of the worst, but the renewed weight at the base of his shaft had numbed him to everything (and anything) that wasn’t sexual pleasure.
And so, his sloppy, prone-skewering of Falin’s asscheeks continued along what seemed like an indefinite upward trajectory for minutes on end. The size of his frame and the position that he had chosen meant that steady acceleration inevitably pulled his testicles into swinging impacts with the undersides of Falin’s sex-greased flanks. These were not the sort of impacts that could truly ‘bother’ the scale of her rear, but over time, wet *FLORPS* distinct from the crotch-to-rear contact that choked the air seeped into the percussion he had created.
With their addition came more feral energy for Nutri-chan’s motions. Swinging his reproductive organs into mushing wrecking ball impacts against Falin’s cheeks encouraged them to produce more semen. The more semen they produced, the more ‘motivating’ the congested weight at the root of his crotch became. In turn, his frame was forced to sharpen his metronome past the point of no return.
It wasn’t just the intensification of his shaft’s ‘slurping’ by her cheeks or the persistent compression of his shaft that broke him. In keeping with the standard set by his last orgasm, it was a combination of things. The stifling humidity created by his perspiration and exertion. The way that Falin’s rear seemed to absorb all of the aggression that he produced in anticipation of more. The reality that he currently lay in the midst of mating himself into partial stupidity, whilst death slumbered all around him.
All of these things together demanded that he empty himself with a vehemence that made his last orgasm seem like the sputtering of a half-sealed pipe.
*PLORP-FLORP-PLORP-FLORP-PLORP-PLORP–*
*SPLLRRRTTTT!!!*
For better or worse, Nutri-chan’s length was not quite so outrageous as to ‘clear’ the space consumed by Falin’s buttocks per stroke. It came close, but a given plunge served only to deliver his glans to a point just below the peak of her buttocks’ cleavage. As a result, his final plunge through her cheeks (and the squirming ascent of semen through his urethra that followed) served only to push off-white genetic material into a pocket of buttocks flesh well below her cheeks’ intended exit point.
Nutri-chan’s genes were content to regard this pocket as no different from the pulsing confines of Falin’s womb. The volume and pressure that defined the beginning of his latest orgasm meant that it ‘cleared’ the first by a wide margin. A sustained stream of glut was poured into the pocket dug out by his glans as though he were urinating. Not briefly, but for several agonizing seconds that bottomed out in a stuttered overflow of the substance at the peak of Falin’s buttocks cleavage.
From this point onward, sustained streams became the ‘standard’ for his release. Just as soon as his first burst cleared the nose of his shaft, another was regurgitated straight into the clogged space that it occupied. The force and pressure behind the former forced the latter into familiarly sluggish discharges out onto Falin’s lower back, and so on for each one that followed.
Though the ‘results’ of his release became predictable over time, the ‘how’ of it remained varied right through to the final blob he forced out of himself. To keep his discharges as heavy as possible, Nutri-chan regularly humped in against Falin’s cheeks whilst hilted against them. These were nothing more than greedy exacerbations of the pressure he had already applied to ‘flatten her cheeks. They served their purpose all the same, though. For each he produced, the volume of mire flowing through his urethra saw an immediate increase.
Naturally, these increases worsened the caking of Falin’s back with semen faster than it’d have worsened otherwise…
Which, truthfully, wasn’t saying much.
“K’huuohghhh…”
“Matingmatingmattttiiinnngggggg…”
.
As if encouraged by the first ‘uncorking’ of the clog at the peak of her buttocks and their producer’s incoherent grunting, the sludge that streaked out across the back of Falin’s ropes wanted for little relative to what had pooled at her lower back.
In some ways, it even seemed more grotesque. With a longer landing strip to work with, each strand draped semen from a point just below the flares of her shoulders to one just above the base of her spine. The overfed width that they maintained resulted in repeated instances of overlap barely a half dozen spurts into the effort. This meant that the extra space that appeared available at the outset of their delivery was consumed by ascending crisscrosses splatters of semen within seconds.
To repeat, much of their content was spewed out against robe fabric. Unlike Falin’s bare flesh, the make of her robes was not equipped for contact with the substance, much less an outright drenching with it. What began as a thorough soaking of threads with greasy semen became an irreparable gunking and staining–and not the ‘traditional’ sort, either. Whether one employed magic or physical effort to scrub Falin’s garments clean beyond this point, a certain amount of reek and ruination was guaranteed to remain.
Had Nutri-chan a firmer understanding of humanity, ruining Falin’s clothes this way was likely to have enhanced his orgasm somewhat. Then and there, though, all of the pleasure that he derived from the tail end of his release remained rooted in the extra thrusts he punched against Falin’s rear.
This was not to say that it was somehow ‘lacking’, of course. Like his last orgasm before it, the progression of his release from beginning to end successfully numbed him to everything but the most core aspects of his reality.
In a world that consisted of dungeons and obscene orgasms at the expense of hapless adventurers, orgasms potent enough to numb the mind in this manner were something coveted. Something to be pursued time and time again, no matter how many times one experienced them.
The same cannot be said for worlds that place one in the dead center of a den of enemies. If one were to slip into a borderline catatonic state throughout a release in such a place, specifically after the grotesque noises produced by said release thundered out through the area, orgasms of this quality become dangerous.
Depending on the strength of the enemies who might hear these noises, some may even go as far as to say that they are life-threatening.