The dragalge awoke to a metallic racket overhead. She rolled over and put her fins over her ears in a pitiful attempt to return to her slumber. Then came another crash, this time followed by a loud splash just outside her den - a series of chambers she hollowed out of the land’s end with her acid, accessible by crawling up an industrial waste pipe embedded in the concrete. She had also built a second entrance a few feet below the water line, for the sake of convenience. She arose from her bed of wet algae groggily, though she would rather have gone back to sleep. She had to send a message to whoever may be splashing in her waters: “Here, I can mess with whoever I want for any reason I want.” After all, she thought, if you don’t control what goes on in your territory, is it even yours? By that point, she was awake enough to notice the spectre of hunger creeping up on her empty belly, and wanted to hunt rather than rest. She slithered to the den’s exit by the light of her Flamethrower attack and dove into the water. 

Bubbles, blood, and gasoline rose from the sunken wreck while shards of broken glass swirled around it. A lone mammal occupied the vehicle, with his face shoved into the (apparently inadequate) driver’s side airbag. The dragalge reached through the shattered window to open the car door, wrapped herself around the mildly-muscular fox boy, and dragged him back to her home. He would have stood at about six feet tall, snow white from the front with green on his legs and back. She emerged from the water with the canine in her coils, laid him on the dry slope, and cuddled up with him for the little warmth that penetrated through his waterlogged fur. 

Victor woke up in total darkness with a devastating headache, possible whiplash, and some sort of scaly, cold-blooded monstrosity snuggling with him. Whatever she was, he did not want to get on her bad side. She sensed his regained consciousness, and emitted a hideous wet growl that was probably supposed to soothe him. Oh boy, he thought with a nervous gulp, I’m in deep shit. He felt something long and wet, presumably the monster’s tongue, lick him upside the cheek. He licked the thing back, evidently willing to indulge her sexual interests without delay. She tasted quite bitter, with a touch of saltiness from hanging out in the sea all day. She stuck the end of her snout in his, where their tongues wrapped and rubbed together in all their slimy glory. He stroked her back with one hand while probing a slit on her lower body with the other. Finding no penis, he concluded that the dragalge was indeed a female (to his enormous relief). She must have enjoyed this exploration, for she squeezed him tighter, wrapping her tail around his hardening cock and caressing his balls with her tailfin. She kissed him deeper, wanting to taste him inside and out before she made him her meal. She held his head in place with one hand and shoved her tongue down his throat, causing him to gag and moan. She was in complete control of the situation; all Victor could do was try to survive as long as he could and hope some opportunity for escape presented itself. This entailed making his survival as beneficial (i.e., pleasurable) to the dragalge as possible; the game was “fuck for your life.” He would have little to offer once all his cum was spent, yet if he held back too much, she would get bored and eat him anyways. This balancing act of time and intensity was at the forefront of Victor’s mind as he tried to gauge the dragalge’s desire and satisfaction after every thrust of his paw. Not that he had much of a grip on his lust - he enjoyed being squeezed and dominated as much as she loved doing it to him. 

Despite his efforts to prove his worth as a sex slave, he was just too tasty to resist eating. She pinned his hands to the cave’s floor with her fins and bound his ankles together with her tongue, before pulling his claws into her mouth. He knew he was toast, but the warmth of her spit on his paws felt heavenly. He had already given up on all forms of physical struggle, choosing instead to enjoy his ingestion. Her saliva worked its way deeper into his fur and seeped into the cracks between his toes as she sucked his heels into her snout. His calves slid smoothly through her throat, inching deeper in gulp by gulp. His knees followed, and then his thighs. The growling of the dragalge’s stomach, in combination with the pressure of her maw around his quadriceps, made his cock stiff as stone. Then, he felt the tingling of her stomach acids on his feet. Snapped partially out of his fantasy by the searing sting, Victor decided he would do whatever it took to survive. He still doubted his ability to escape, but he at least wanted to get some dragon pussy before being consumed. He no longer wished to be just another meal for her, he wanted to become the best prey she ever ate. He took a deep breath and argued for his life:

“Wait. If you eat me now, you’ll miss out on one hell of an afternoon. Before you swallow me up for good, I want to worship your graceful, slender body with every fiber of my being. I want to feel your scales between my paws as I pour all my strength into your loins. I want to plunge my tongue into your rectum until the taste of shit makes me cry. I want to see the ravenous look in your eyes as you drool on me and pull my chest between your lips. I want to know the creature that I will become part of. I want to see your snout stretch itself out over my cock while you suck me off. I want to replace my instincts of self-preservation with a desire to please you, and I know you want to bring me into that state of helpless, aroused dedication. Sure, I admit that sliding down your throat feels good, but the only way you can force that total devotion upon me is sex. You can take my body by eating me, but if you lie with me first, my soul can be yours too. I’m not going anywhere, as long as you’re watching. You know that. You can only eat me once, so make the most of it. You could have digested me before I regained consciousness, but you didn’t. Think of why you made that decision. You wanted to feel me struggle in desperation and quake in lust. I know you’re hungry, but if you spare my life, you can drag out that moment of total dominance, that incomparable feeling of power, for as long as you want. The longer you let me live, the longer I can pleasure and serve you. I’m yours, whether I like it or not. C’mon, when’s the last time you played with your food like this? When’s the next time a living man will be delivered right to your doorstep? Do you think he’ll keep his wits about him and be submissive like me, or is he going to rave, struggle, and grovel like any other desperate prey? I’m sure you’re familiar with the seven stages of grief. Can you think of anyone else who skipped straight to bargaining, and refused to leave it no matter what? I’m a boy of many talents, tasty as I may seem. If you want to discover and take advantage of them, keep me alive. You can rest assured I’ll be doing my very best to entertain you - my existence depends on it.”

The dragalge spat the fox out and responded to his proposition with another one of her horrid growls, intrigued by the benefits Victor professed to offer. She shot a flamethrower to all four corners of the room, igniting bundles of dried algae and lighting the chamber with a flickering orange glow. She wrapped a fin around his wrist and led him to a small, dark doorway. He crouched down to look inside, but could not see where it led. She waved him forward, looking at him expectantly. Victor had to get on his hands and knees to fit in the tunnel, and crawled about fifteen feet before he reached the back. He managed to scrunch himself into a ball and turn back around, settling in a cross-legged position at the tunnel’s end.

“So, what are we gonna do in here?”

The dragalge said nothing, instead sprinkling the floor with a sizzling purple fluid.

“W-Whoa. If you’re going to digest me, at least swallow me first. As awful as being eaten alive sounds, it’s less fucked-up than being liquefied externally and drank like juice. If I’m already soup before I reach your belly, I can’t squirm for you. Don’t you want to feel me die inside your belly? Don’t you want to watch me lose shape in your gut?“

The dragalge was not planning to kill him just yet. She never spat the acid quite far enough to hurt him. It burnt a trench that reached from his feet to the tunnel entrance. She filled it with even more acid, a weaker sort that would melt Victor but not the concrete. He couldn’t hope to jump or climb over it, due to the horribly low ceiling and the curvature of the walls. 

“Wow, I’m really your prisoner now. I guess this is my new home. Come visit me soon, I’ll be awfully bored without you!“

The dragalge nodded, satisfied with his response. A noise like a running electric fan being submerged in tomato sauce filled the room - this was her happy sound. Victor chuckled in fear, and gave his owner a quick wave as she slithered away to do God-knows-what.

She left her cave, emerging into the bright morning for her first hunt of the day. Convinced as she was by the boy’s arguments, she still had to eat someone. That someone turned out to be a basculin. His three companions, of the same species, were also on the menu. The dragalge swam up behind them, trapped them in a whirlpool before they could flee, and shot them up with Sludge Bomb. She tangled herself up with them, swam back to her lair, and laid their limp bodies in the water room. She went back outside, having noticed a great number of wingull fluttering about the port. She swam to the surface, hiding by the shore until one of the wingull flew over the water. Bam! She shot it down with a direct-hit Sludge Bomb. The densely-packed goop knocked the wingull a few feet higher into the air, stained its feathers purple, knocked the wind from its lungs, and probably broke its ribs. It fainted instantly. The bird plummeted toward the waves, splashing down a few feet in front of the dragalge. She took another one down for good measure, and dragged them both away.

Victor’s ears perked up at the sound of wet flopping coming from the water room, indicating the return of his hungry mistress. He had spent half his time alone trying to come up with a way to get away from her, and the other half fantasizing about her deadly stomach. She slithered into the room with a few flaccid figures in her grasp.

“Welcome home, honey! What’cha got there?”

The dragalge let the six smaller pokemon fall to the floor, each leaving a wet mark when they slapped against the ground.

“Dinner, huh? Can I watch you eat?”

The mention of supper got his own stomach rumbling, to the amusement of his host. He looked down at it with a slightly embarrassed smile.

“I wouldn’t mind a bite, myself.”

The dragalge floated lazily towards him, face-up. She patted her chest, apparently inviting him to perch on it. Victor shifted himself aboard with some difficulty, but found himself fairly stable once in position. He steadied himself against the walls while she paddled back across the acid. He hopped onto solid ground, and she slithered to the other side of the pile of fainted water pokemon. She pulled three basculin and a wingull towards herself, leaving one bird and one fish for her captive. He lay on his belly with his chin in his hands, doubtlessly enjoying the close-up view of the dragalge’s slender physique in the firelight. He held a basculin in front of her tubular snout, jiggling it by the tail to inflame her appetite. 

“Do to him what you’ll do to me. I wanna see how it looks from the outside.”

She licked its forehead, whipped its face from all sides using her tongue, and withdrew it like a measuring tape. This treatment somehow woke up the fish, who started flailing in Victor’s grasp. It was able to throw itself from his hand, flying into the wall and bouncing along the floor with a trail of wet spots behind it. The dragalge “giggled” at his clumsiness, then jabbed her snout at her prey, as an arbok might. Instead of biting it, however, she slurped its terrified tail into her proboscis, which bulged out with the fin’s volume. The fish thrashed with all its might, but its best efforts were no match for the dragalge’s suction power. She glanced down her snout at the struggling pokemon, then stared Victor threateningly in the eyes with a glare that could only mean “You’re next,” sending a horrified, horny shiver down his spine. Her mouth slowly crawled up the basculin’s back, stretching many times wider than usual. The ingested portion was completely immobilized by the tightly-stretched skin and muscle of her snout; the deeper the basculin went, the less it could fight back. The widest part of it was soon enveloped by the brown tube, leaving only its head exposed. The dragalge’s mouth squeezed the basculin like a corset, causing its fat to be pushed to the front. The last things the fish saw before the ravenous lips passed over its eyes were Victor’s smiling face and waving paw.

“Buh-Bye, Fishy! I’ll see ya on the other side!”

Its chin receded into the slimy darkness of the predator’s maw, never to emerge again. Then, there was no more basculin. All that remained was a big semicircular bump in the dragalge’s snout. She let it sit there for Victor’s instruction and arousal, then swallowed it down in one gulp. It squeezed through her narrow neck in a split second, and settled snugly into her purple gut as a small bulge. Victor could only be described as “vorestruck.”

“That was the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen,” said Victor truthfully. “Now show me how fast you can gurgle your prey.”

The dragalge pulled his head towards her belly as her digestive system kicked into overdrive. Burning fluids poured onto the basculin, throwing it into a fit of panicked convulsions. Its scales fell out and vanished into the acids one by one. It felt as if it were being skinned with a cheese grater, but the squeeze of the stomach walls kept it from squirming easily. Without the space to open its mouth, it could only grunt in agony. Victor and the dragalge were enjoying the show from the outside, turned on by the swift dissolution of her meal. She loved the feeling of her stomach shrinking as it pressed the liquefied portions of her prey into her intestines. The basculin generated a roaring growl in its final moments, visibly vibrating the dragon’s scaly tummy for five brutal seconds. It then fell still and silent, leaving Victor and the dragalge alone with the burbling of her digestive system.

“He’s fucking dead!” squealed Victor in unadulterated glee. “Do it again! Eat another one! Stuff yourself until you can’t move! Make them all scream!”

She pressed his head even closer to her belly, forcing him to hear every sizzle, splash, and groan that emanated from her stomach. He put his arms around it, showering it with kisses, licks, and nuzzles.

“I want in! I wanna be yours! I can’t take it anymore, I can’t stand the fact that I’m not gurgling away in your stomach! ”

She put a fin beneath his chin, and pointed his nose towards her mouth. A guttural URRRRRRRRP rocketed from it, enveloping Victor’s face in a putrid stench. He cried when the caustic fumes irritated his eyes, though he grinned from ear to ear. He tried to moan, but tasting the corrosive gas made him shut his mouth involuntarily. The dragalge’s meal was barely noticeable, having been reduced to a mere morsel and squeezed into the shape of a football by her overpowering abdominal muscles. He could fit her belly in his mouth, so he put his jaws around it and rubbed it with his tongue. The dragalge rumbled in pleasure, captivated by the canine’s impromptu massage. His warm, wet flesh molded around her grumbling gut, polishing her scales with devoted vigor. He could feel the meat falling from the fish’s bones when he licked the bulges protruding from her midsection. It pulsated against his tongue as her guts continued pumping her partially-dissolved meal through her system. Feeling the last of the basculin’s organs melt gave her an idea. She nudged him away with her snout and slithered a few feet back to show her belly off.

“HOLY SHIT!”

All fleshy matter was stripped from the basculin, leaving the clear outline of a fish skeleton visible in the dragalge’s tummy. She gave Victor a seductive sideways stare, tracing around the bones with the tip of her tongue.

“I can see its bones! That’s amazing! Do you have any idea how long I’ve been waiting to see a woman do this!? I want to watch you dissolve everyone in the whole goddamn world, one by one.”

She uttered a frightening chuckle in response to his uncensored comments. Her smile was too cute for Victor to resist; he kissed her on the snout and attempted to jam his tongue inside it. She gladly welcomed his overwhelmed advances, winding her own tongue around his and pulling it in her mouth. He could see the bulge it made in her snout, but could not praise its beauty for obvious reasons. Their tongues rubbed and squeezed each other as they traded spit while his fully-hardened schlong pushed against her tummy. He purred at the taste of her saliva, and a deep blush spread across her face. She broke the kiss just in time to show Victor how her belly breaks down the bones of her prey. The remaining fragments of the basculin sizzled into nothingness over a few noisy seconds. 

URRRRRRP

Hot air massaged his red rocket and tickled the surrounding fur, causing him to cock his head back and whine in pleasure. The fumes rose to his head, giving him another arousing dose of their acrid taste. The dragalge found his reaction incredibly cute, and could not hold back a long, wet lick that started below his ballsack and ended at the tip of his nose. Victor clenched his teeth and shivered. His fur briefly stuck out as if he were being electrocuted, telling his mistress and predator that she was doing something right. It took a moment for him to recover the power of speech, at which point he shouted at the top of his lungs:

“FUCK YEAH! TASTE ME!”

The dragalge readily obliged, enjoying the briny flavor of Victor’s damp flesh. The base of her tongue pressed against his taint, the middle ran upwards between his asscheeks, and the rest coiled around his torso. She pushed the tip under his arm, wriggling it about to absorb the saline deliciousness. His sweat mixed with her spit, spreading his taste all over her tongue. Victor burst into uncontrollable laughter when it twirled in his armpit, activating a ticklishness untouched since his boyhood. He cried and pleaded between fits of hysteria, to no avail. The dragalge leveraged his weakness to its full potential, playing with his sensitive spot until he nearly passed out. It took him a considerable amount of time to recover from the ordeal, but his boner still stood at full strength. His submissive side was fully awakened, having been dragged into the open by the poison pokemon’s uncompromising domination and incessant teasing. He splayed himself out like a starfish, belly up.

“Do anything you want to me. Whatever you do, just don’t leave me alone.” 

He started fantasizing immediately. What will she do next, he wondered as he admired her thin, flowing frame. Will she stuff me with those wingull before swallowing me up, or will she make me listen to their desperate screams while she kills them with her stomach? Will I go down intact, or one limb at a time? Will I be awake when she consumes me, or will she knock me out first? Will she start from my head or from my feet? Will she eat me normally, or will I take the back door? Will she fuck me, or leave me to jack off in her tummy? Can foxes get dragalge pregnant?

The dragalge found his devotion and attraction to her most endearing; he proved himself to be a good boy, and she wanted to make his final hours long and sweet. Instead of extinguishing his life with some horrible and sexy act, she belly flopped onto him, surprising him with cuddles and nuzzles. He reciprocated enthusiastically with a whine of adoration, licking her on the cheek. She buried herself in his fluff, which was fairly dry by then, and rolled around in it. He hugged her tight, squishing her into his belly and chest. She released a muffled moan in response to the sudden, but not unwelcome, pressure.

The dragalge grabbed the second basculin from the pile and nudged Victor’s closed mouth with its head.

“For me? D’aww, thanks!”

He shifted into a sitting position with his back against the wall and his reptilian mate reclining in his lap. She licked his face and neck again, causing him to giggle and kiss her on top of the snout. He grabbed the fish in one hand, brought it to his lips, and paused.

“So, is there a particular way you want me to do this?”

She shook her head.

“Well, alright. I’ll pretend nobody’s watching.”

[Mild gore warning: A man is going to eat a fish normally, or as normally as is possible with a raw animal. If this sounds gross to you, skip the red text.]

He took a bite out of its stomach, visibly enjoying the taste. He didn’t bother checking whether it was dead or alive beforehand, but the first chomp surely would have killed it. A deluge of gore immediately burst from the basculin’s fresh wound, dripping onto the dragalge’s head. She licked it off and kept staring, never having seen a mammal tear apart its prey before; at least not from up close. His teeth were large and triangular, almost like a sharpedo’s. They pierced the fish-meat easily and enjoyably. There was something far more satisfying to the dragalge about watching blood splatter on the ground and form a pool, instead of being instantly washed away by the ocean. The basculain’s thin scales and soft tissue provided negligible protection from Victor’s teeth, cleaving from its body with minimal pulling. He took his time chewing, taking great care not to stain his fur. His efforts were largely in vain, however: his neck, snout, and paws were painted crimson in seconds. The fish’s liver fell from the open wound, tumbling onto his thigh beside the dragalge. After pulverizing and swallowing the chunk that was already in his mouth, he picked up the lost organ and tossed it in. The dragalge watched his jaws rise and fall as they ground his food into a thick and heavy mash. This delicious paste made a small bulge in his throat as he gulped it down, but it vanished into his chest before the dragalge could savor the sight. She briefly glimpsed the inside of his deadly maw as he opened it for the next bite. Something about his scarlet teeth turned her amused curiosity into bewildering arousal. Fantasies of getting ripped apart in his mouth forced their way into her head, and she was surprised to find herself getting a bit wet. A bloody blurph filled the chamber with the sour stench of melting flesh, showering her with spit and gore.

“Heh, sorry about that!”

Victor sunk his teeth back into his prey, enjoying the salty flavor as he severed its intestines and pulled them from the rest of its body. He primed them for a swift and thorough digestion, shredding them into unrecognizable ribbons with a few seconds of munching. He smiled in pure bliss as he sealed the meat away with a satisfied gulp, and greedily gobbled up the fish’s own stomach. Thick chyme filled his mouth as his fangs pierced the organ, bathing his taste buds in a delightfully bitter sauce. He cleared out his mouth with another hungry ulp, and expelled the horrid gas from his tummy in a vile BLEEEEEEEECH. Victor’s next target was the heart, which he messily devoured in a fit of carnivorous passion. After gnawing it away from its veins, he stuffed it between his molars and crushed it into mince. The pokemon’s vital fluid, thin and dark like wine, pumped into the fox’s mouth and eyes from the gaping wound left by his improvised cardiectomy. He ravenously pulled the mangled morsel into his pharynx, and washed it down with a cascade of hot blood. He then tore out the smaller animal’s throat, reducing its soft flesh to fine chum almost instantaneously. It took three large swallows to empty his bulging cheeks. The eviscerated tissue felt amazing on the way down his throat, lubricated generously with gore and fat. Victor grinned as he started on the creature’s juicy tail, thoroughly manducating every fin and scale; its brawn felt so right in his jaws, and he knew no greater joy than grinding up healthy muscle between his teeth. His food practically flowed down his esophagus after such rigorous comminution. It blended together perfectly in his stomach, where no identifiable piece of his prey remained - he could have eaten a horse or a man, and nobody would be able to tell the difference. His acids made quick work of it all, as his meal was already cut into miniscule flakes by the time it entered his belly. By the time he chomped into the head, parts of the baculin were already liquefied. A few more bites were enough to strip the pokemon bare and leave the boy satisfied. He burped contentedly, licked his chops clean, patted his mildly-distended middle, and thanked his host for the meal.

“I can’t do anything with these,” he said of the fish’s bones before dropping them in its salty blood. The dragalge was eager to finish the leftovers, swallowing them all and slurping up the red puddle in about a minute. 

“I was hoping you’d do that,” confessed Victor, drawing yet another teasing lick to his face. 

[You can come out now, the scary man is done being scary. For the moment.]

UUURRRP! He fired a thundering belch at the dragalge, complete with flecks of reddish spit. A few more basculin scales came out too.

“Excu-“

OUAAAAAARP! A second load of hot air hit her in the head, longer and more potent than the first. She suffocated in the damp cloud, choking on the stale steam that came from the male’s acidic gut.

HRAAAAAAAAAAAP!

“Ugh. Excuse me,“ apologized Victor, badly disgusted with himself. This polite behavior rubbed the dragalge the right way, though Victor had no experience in acting preddy, or any conscious desire for it (unless, of course, it would be necessary to please his new owner). 

“Let me guess: that basculin blood got your tummy all worked up?”

The dragalge nodded. Then, she put a fish on his lap and lay on her belly with her head pointed upward near his crotch. A rolling gurgle reverberated through the chamber, telling him exactly what to do. 

“Y-You want me to feed you?!”

The dragalge only blinked, as if to say “I’m waiting.”

Victor grabbed the fattest basculin from the pile by the tail and slowly lowered it towards her mouth. This one was out cold, and did not try to flop its way out of his hands. The tip of the dragalge’s snout stretched wide to accommodate its head, which she soon pulled into the top of her throat with irresistible force. After a few more seconds of sucking, more than half of her prey was ingested. Victor had to move his paws back to avoid getting them caught inside her slimy maw. He was not fast enough: one of them was stuck inside the dragalge’s snout, being drawn towards her belly right behind the feeder fish. He found himself unable to remove his hand, no matter how hard he tried. This must be how it feels to get caught in a woodchipper, except it doesn’t hurt - Yet. I’ll be screaming bloody murder when my fingers reach her stomach. She eventually stopped toying with him, relaxing her muscles and cutting off the suction so he could extract his spit-dripping arm. With the fish now sealed out of sight, Victor braced himself for the impending gulp. The dragalge let her food sit in her engorged proboscis for a while to build up the fox’s anticipation.

GLRK!

He (again!) squealed in delight as the dragalge, in one quick swallow, condemned her prey to its caustic tomb with a resounding glrsh. He knew what to expect after seeing the first basculin meet the same fate, but it was even hotter the second time around. With the fish settled in her stomach, she leaned back against the wall to show the bulge off to Victor. This performance had the intended effect, leaving him completely speechless. His starstruck eyes and conspicuously wagging tail made his amazement obvious, alongside the fresh precum that crowned his fully-hardened phallus. The dragalge dipped the tip of her tongue in it and found it to her liking. She told the boy as much with an enthusiastic lschhhhhhhh. Victor was extremely glad to hear it. He slid himself forward, put a leg on either side of her, and lowered his back to the ground. She took advantage of the unobstructed access to his ballsack, wrapping her tongue twice around and giving it a playful tug - not hard enough to hurt badly, but it made him yelp in shock. His most sensitive organs were bound by a strange beast’s tongue, and he could do nothing about it. One wrong move, and she could incapacitate him with a single squeeze. Even if he did everything right, she might do it just for fun. She tickled his nuts and tasted his sour taint, basking in the long shivers she sent through his bones. She then tormented him with a technique he could not have imagined, repeatedly extending and retracting her tongue until he developed something akin to rope burn just below his cock. Dear God, Victor, what have you fucking done? What advantage could you possibly have seen in survival? If you had fought back when you first woke up, you would have been digested and shat out an hour ago, but instead, you’re having your testicles torn off! You gave in to your instincts, and now you’re paying the price!

Victor’s scrotum was completely soaked with slobber, which only made it look tastier to the dragalge. Getting greedy, she added a third loop below its predecessors, and then a fourth. Each forced his balls further from his cock, leaving them with less and less space. The tension on his spermatic cords, his stretching skin, and the pain of having it tighten around his nuts made him cringe and whimper - though he remained as hard as ever. Fitting two big balls in an ever-shrinking space was an awful ordeal, as was the feeling of having them drawn away from his crotch. Some manly instinct made him clench his teeth to hold back a scream, but tears still formed at the corners of his eyes. His labored breathing was music to the dragalge’s ears; his tense muscles, taut skin, and anguished expression were beautiful to her. She could tell he was approaching his breaking point. Right before he would have lost control, she slurped her tongue back into her mouth, letting his genitalia return to their natural state. Instead of an unrestrained shout of excruciation, he let out a sigh of pure, perfect relief. The experience left him panting and shaking, lost in the sensation of the pain gradually fading from his nuts. No longer suffering the penalty of his submissiveness, it once again commanded his thinking. I pleased my mistress, and she rewarded me. She thinks I’m worthy of her mercy, and I trust her judgment. Somehow, I’m fucking useful to a creature as perfect as her. I must have been born for this. Keep up the good work, boy, and maybe you can be her slave forever. Let her pull on whatever she wants: you owe her your life, after all. 

The dragalge sat in front of him, watching his as he recovered from the first round of torture - she did not want to wear him out when there was still fun to be had. By the time his breathing had stabilized, he was begging for more. He pushed himself back into a seated position, staring into the dragon’s eyes with admiration as her bloated belly noisily worked on its doomed contents. She affectionately assaulted his face with her whip-like tongue, causing him to shield his eyes and roll over giggling. She tied his ankles together with it and dragged him close, His fur was dry again, and the dragalge knew she might not get another chance to play with such a big fluffy boy after packing Victor away. She dove and rolled in the dog’s voluminous floof like tall grass, groping and massaging all parts of his soft-yet-narrow frame. He lay perfectly still, happily allowing her to explore his physique at her own pace. His loving patience was rewarded with even more rubbing and nuzzling. He purred at every stroke and whined at every lick. She ran her fins from beneath his arms down to his thighs, buried her head in his chest fur, and rubbed his flat belly with her own. The few fish bones left inside her were quickly ground into pulp against his abs and were promptly squished into her intestines. The cold-blooded beast could not get enough of Victor’s warmth. She dug deeper into his fur to absorb as much heat as possible, pressed herself into his flesh, and rubbed him vigorously to generate heat by friction. He appreciated this physical intimacy, infinitely fond of being stroked with such adoration. He could feel her heartbeat as if it were his own. His rock-hard rod was crushed into his belly under the weight of her violet abdomen, which molded itself around his shaft like clay (though it was only slightly wider). Every burble and slosh that radiated from her tummy corresponded to a sensible vibration. He could feel them against his own belly and on the bottom of his cock. Victor was unable to get over the fact that some of the deadliest acids known to science lurked on the other side of those shining scales, millimeters away, and would probably dissolve him before the day’s end. The dragalge slithered forward until her snout hung just above his nose. He felt the insatiable hunger on her breath and saw the predatory desire in her eyes as a stream of fresh saliva trickled onto his face. He braced himself, for he knew the best was yet to come. Is she gonna burp on my face again? Will she finally eat me? The thought of his impending digestion overwhelmed him until he could no longer hold his thirst back:

“I’M READY, I CAN’T WAIT ANY LONGER! I WANT TO BE DRAGALGE FOOD. MAKE ME YOUR MEAL, DIGEST ME NOW! I WANT TO BE PART OF YOU. USE ME. KILL ME. GURGLE ME UP AND SHIT ME OUT!”

Tasty and willing as Victor was, the dragalge knew better than to eat him right away. Instead, she coiled her tail three times around his overheating phallus, and began to jack him off with a spring-like motion. He had never experienced anything like it, blown away by the sensation of simultaneously being squeezed, rubbed, and twisted so perfectly. Excessive amounts of pre flowed out, hot and sticky. The dragalge could feel it spreading onto her scales, and knew Victor was properly warmed up for oral action. She relinquished his prong, gave him one last tongue-boop on the nose, and slithered back down until her head hung just above his erection. She slowly approached it with her snout, which twitched with lustful curiosity. Drool dripped from the bottom, further lubricating Victor’s equipment with thick slime. 

Oh God, thought Victor with ecstacy, She’s going to suck my dick. 

She tickled the tip of it to ask if he was ready. He could not muster the coherence to offer anything more than a meek, whispered “Please…”

The dragalge took her sweet time getting started. Her snout stretched snugly over his meat like a condom, bulging slightly thicker than usual as a result of his girth. Her lips crawled down his shaft inch-by-inch, lubricating it with warm slobber until she reached its base. Victor growled in delectation when she turned on the suction, unable to contain himself when she ramped up the pressure. It came and went in pulses, keeping the boy in awe without a moment of relief. His purring turned to panting as she kept sucking, and his panting soon turned to moaning. Sweat and pre filled the dragalge’s maw with a sour tang, accumulating at the end of Victor’s rod until she had to gulp it down to make space for more. The hot fluid flowed down her gullet smoothly, warming up her insides like a cup of hot tea. She could feel his every throb and shiver in her mouth. Judging by their increasing intensity, she figured that he would not last much longer. Every muscle in Victor’s body went tense; he shouted as he came, emptying his balls directly into her throat. A seemingly endless river of semen poured into her stomach, bleaching her acid white with nut. After drinking the last of it, she released a small yet pungent urp in Victor’s lap before letting her exhausted self fall into his plushy belly fur. He contentedly drew the acrid fumes into his nostrils, enjoying the olfactory preview of his fate as food. Having grown a bit tired himself, he let out a good long yawn, unknowingly showing his mate the mawshot of a lifetime.

While they cuddled and relaxed post-coitus, one of the fainted wingull regained consciousness. He chose not to stir or even open his eyes; he knew he had been brought involuntarily to a strange place, and did not want to invite any attention. Judging by sound alone, he was still by the coast, but somewhere indoors. The crackling of fires told him he was not in the dark, and the rank stench of sweaty sex hung in the air around him. Whoever yawned proceeded to speak:

“Keep squishing your tummy into mine. I love how I can feel your prey struggling inside you.”

Some other entity responded with slushy-blowy noise. The wingull recognized the bloodcurdling cry of a dragalge, and was overcome by a deep, evolutionary fear - the kind that can only come from millenia of predation. He recalled the cautionary tales Mama told when he was little, and incidents involving relatives being eaten by reptilian seaweed. His curiosity and will-to-live overcame his fear, so he cracked open one eye. Another sludge-stained wingull lay unconscious a centimeter to his left, and a basculin lay unmoving beyond her. They were clearly somewhere underground, probably a cave. The air tasted of blood and acid, as one would expect in a dragalge’s den. The monster herself was an eldritch abomination of the highest order. She looked like an arbok that had been dragged through the sewer, wrapped in algae, and had her snout squeezed through a tube. Her companion was an anthropomorphic fox. His unsheathed schlong and contented attitude meant that he had just blown a load into someone, presumably her. Opening his eyes a little wider revealed a touch of pale residue on the boy’s pink pipe, and a thin trail of cum leading from the tip to the dragalge’s mouth.

“I think I’m ready to go again. You still thirsty?”

The dragalge nodded.

“More importantly, are you feeling hungry?“

She nodded again, plastering a sinister (it seemed that way to the wingull, at least) grin on Victor’s face. He snatched the last basculin by the tail, leaving a wet spot in its place. The wingull’s worst fears were confirmed: he was on the menu, and having heard stories of dragalge digestion, he knew his turn in her belly was imminent.

The fox squatted over his fuckbuddy with one foot on either side of her chest. He dangled the limp fish above the dragon’s maw, taunting her with its succulent plumpness. 

“I’m gonna drop him in. Ready? 3… 2… 1… Bombs away!”

Victor let the prey fall. The basculin’s chin drove between the dragalge’s lips, and before Victor could squeal, its whole body was gone. The dragalge did not have to swallow, as the momentum of her prey carried him all the way to her belly in the blink of an eye. A magnificent SPLOSH sounded from inside her. A series of gurgles followed immediately - her belly had been eagerly awaiting its prey for unbearably long. Victor pounced on the dragalge with all his weight, locking his lips around hers and penetrating her dripping vulva in one blurry motion. His chest knocked her back into the hard concrete floor, but she was too aroused to cry out. He bared his teeth, growled maniacally, held her down by the neck, and pounded as hard as he could. The dragalge was in heaven. She had never felt such a volley before; serpentine sex was generally a long, slow, strategic affair. It involved lots of wrapping, licking, stroking, slithering, and whispering. Both partners would talk a big game at first, vying for control of the other until one of them breaks down into out-of-character begging. The superior reptile would then tease his or her partner until the verge of climax. The defeated partner would be the subject of endless edging until her mate gets bored, at which point he would finish her off with a few thrusts; or in the case of a dominant female, a bounce or two. As punishment for cumming first, the exhausted, no-longer-aroused sub would usually be forced to bring her master to climax with oral stimulation. She would also have to obey all his commands for the rest of the day, just to rub it in.

Mammalian sex, as the dragalge was learning, had nothing like that. It was a matter of immediate, overwhelming brute force - all she did was swallow a fish and show Victor her vulva, and he whacked it into oblivion without the slightest warning. There was no mental domination, no drama, no excessive praising, no mercy, no name-calling, no theater, no hypnosis, no nothin’. Just masculine instinct, unrestrained lust, and a big fat boner. She was completely unprepared for his swift and heavy tackle or the incessant full-force jabbing that followed. He attacked her slick vagina with a vicious, unrelenting barrage of thrusts, as if he were trying to burst a pinata. He didn’t speak at all - he seemed not to have a single thought in his mind. He wanted her orgasm and he wanted it now. Victor’s erection felt like a branding iron to her nerves, which were utterly unaccustomed to warm-blooded cock. Every buck of his hips knocked her organs back up towards her chest, making a sound as if somebody had punched her in the stomach. Whenever she took a breath, another strong slam knocked it right back out of her. Her relief finally came when Victor pulled back a little too far in his windup, and missed his mark on the way back in. His cock rammed right into her belly, punching a dent in her softened prey. Victor looked down to see what happened, and instantly regretted not giving that gut the attention it deserved. He put his palms on her tummy, inhaled deeply, and threw all his weight down on it. The basculin’s skull caved in with a sharp crack, its flesh was flushed into her intestine with a Glorsh, and an explosion of pressurized belly gas erupted from her snout. The stale jet blew Victor’s fluff back as if he were leaning from a car window. Otherwise, that burp was the furthest thing possible from fresh air - it quite literally smelled like death. It forced its way up his nose, causing him to cough, gag, and pull out. He rolled onto his back, gasping for something less nasty to fill his lungs. The dragalge was not yet satisfied, so she climbed upon him and ground herself suggestively against his dick. He put an arm around her back, used his other hand to spread her pussy lips, and plugged the hole as expected. He started off slower this time (though he was still jumping the gun by dragalge standards), enjoying a mixture of cuddling and french kissing as he plunged his wood into the depths of her cunt.

Even on the bottom, Victor was the engine of intercourse. He gripped the dragalge’s serpentine waist in one hand, put her vulva on the end of his cock, and slammed her onto it with all his might. She gasped from the penetration, at once overcome by the joy of having a 2-by-7 inch stud driven into her at God-knows-how-many MpH. Every smash felt harder than the last, and she was sure she would be turned inside-out by the time he was done. Once he got into the rhythm of it, he was throwing her down multiple times per second. It was a familiar motion to him; he was jacking off, but with a girl in his hand. The dragalge, for her part, was stunned. Victor’s fingers squeezed her flesh against his log from all sides, making her feel more friction than she could previously fathom. Being so roughly tugged up and down his shaft stripped her of all will to dominate; she was being handled like a mere toy and loving every second of it. She had never been fucked with such heat, violence, and vigor; whenever anything but pleasure entered her head, another slam of Victor’s cock kicked it right out. To the dragalge’s great delight, there was no end in sight. All she saw was his wide, toothy grin; all she felt was his iron pole and his hand squishing her around it. She would be left with a nasty bruise for sure - but it was so worth it. She felt like her gut would pop if it were pinched any harder. Victor might not have known or he might not have cared, for he clamped her tighter and bashed her cunt into his lap with mind-numbing force. It flattened with every bounce, releasing a juicy squelch each time. Her stomach acids and digested prey (bones, by now) were constantly being jostled about by Victor’s careless handling. She felt them hit the bottom of her belly at the peak of his throws and slap against its roof when she took his whole length. She was being shaken like champagne and felt about ready to soak Victor with her feminine foam. Orgasm, however, was not yet in the cards for the happy couple…

The wingull mulled over his options. He knew the fox wouldn’t last forever, and without his meat to distract her, the dragalge would turn to her avian captives for entertainment and sustenance. She was looking down, unshakably transfixed on his jolly grin and scorching sausage. He seemed to retain some awareness of his surroundings; he would certainly pounce if anybody tried flying behind his mate. The best course of action, then, was to go behind his head and hope the dragalge is too horny to notice or care. The gull rightly figured that no better chance of escape would ever appear, so he decided to get the other wingull up - he would need a diversion to make it out. He blew a stream of cold water on her face and jabbed her side with his talons. This woke her up immediately, but it took a moment more for her to figure out where she was and what was going on. Satisfied that his accomplice had her wits back, he leaned towards her and whispered in her ear.

“Here’s the deal: We’re supposed to be dragalge food, but she’s too busy fucking that guy to eat us. When he nuts, we’ll be the post-sex snacks. Are you with me?”

The female wingull gave him a discreet nod, relieved to find another prey animal in the subterranean slaughterhouse. She found hope and comfort in the voice of her fellow wingull, and figured he was her key to freedom.

“Alright then, listen: if we bolt at the same time, one of us could probably get by. I’ll go left, you’ll go right. Any objections?“

The female shook her head, ready to do whatever it took to get out of her dungeon as fast as possible. She was disappointed that he had not come up with a better solution, but she could not think of one either.

“Ready? 3, 2, 1, go!”

The wingull flew as planned, the male behind Victor and the female above the dragalge. Victor was tipped off by the male’s shadow on the opposite wall, and pulled out of the dragalge just in time to snap his jaws shut on the near gull. He stopped just short of closing his mouth fully to avoid decapitating him, but still applied a painful amount of dental pressure. The dragalge, no longer entranced by Victor’s pussy abuse, heard the female wingull fluttering towards the exit. Predatory instincts awakened within her. Her tongue flicked towards the other wingull, caught her by the neck, and flung her against the back wall. She lacked the strength to turn or slow down, so she crashed into the concrete with a stony knock and a loud squak. She tumbled to the floor with tears pouring down her cheeks, either unwilling or unable to fly anymore. Victor took the other bird from his mouth intact, gripping him firmly around the throat with his thumb and forefinger. He was physically unharmed and not visibly perturbed, but chose not to struggle at all.

“Nice try, birdie. I respect your guts.”

The wingull, apparently, did not care much for Victor’s respect. “Kill me,” ordered the gull in a classy, commanding tone. 

“Sorry,” Victor replied, “you’re not mine to kill.”

“I beg to differ,” retorted the gull. His objective was to secure a quick and painless death between Victor’s jaws; failing to do so would lead to a far worse fate in the dragalge’s stomach. “You caught me fair and square. I was inside your mouth for five seconds, and it follows that I should be your meal. If it weren’t for you, I would have escaped. You’re well aware this dragalge will eat you no matter what, why curry her favour? Surely, you don’t want to die on an empty stomach?”

“I understand that, but she was the one who shot you from the sky and dragged you down here. If it weren’t for her, I wouldn’t have had the opportunity to hold you in my jaws. If it weren’t for me, she would have easily seen your last-ditch flight and caught you like she caught the girl. Or, she would have eaten you up as soon as you had hit the waves. Just because I’m going to die doesn’t mean I have nothing to lose. She could make my last hours a lot fewer, or if I really piss her off, more numerous and painful. My life depends on pleasing her, and if she wanted you to go free, she wouldn’t have hunted you in the first place. I also find it smokin’ hot when she eats people alive, and you seem like the perfect prey. I’m not even hungry, anyways; I already had a basculin. Now, are you going to be a good boy and stay put, or will I have to bite off your wings?”

“Please don’t,” said the wingull. 

Victor glared at the female.

“That goes for you too.”

She reluctantly pledged her obedience with a defeated nod.

Victor found their surrender to be genuine, and placed his wingull by the fire next to other.

“If I were you,” Victor told the cowering fowl, “I would quit worrying about escape. It’s not gonna happen. I’ve made peace with my fate, and I’m better off for it. Think about it: how many wingull in world history can say they’ve watched a fox nail a dragalge from two feet away? Probably just you two. I bet you’ve got friends who would happily give their lives for front-row seats to see passionate, unashamed, no-holds-barred monster sex play out in front of them. Hell, you’ve got a girl right there. If you’ve never fucked a woman before, now’s your last chance.”

The wingull did not find that advice helpful.

“I know you might find this hard to believe, but some of us aren’t turned on by the idea of getting eaten. I imagine most people would find it difficult to ‘get it on’ in the face of impending doom, and I’m no exception.”

Victor shrugged. All he could say was “Fair enough.” He then pinned the dragalge to the ground and shoved his meat back into her overflowing cunt, sending her mind to a world of pure lust. She had no time to recover before the next hump smashed her into the floor. She flinched from the impact. Victor deliberately constricted her windpipe as his wood rubbed her sensitive vaginal walls, solidifying his dominance and plunging the dragalge into hypoxia-induced arousal. She watched helplessly as he brought his hips down upon her, having lost command of her own body and the capacity for rational thought. His mouth hung ajar in a typical expression of canine pleasure, drooling and panting all over her limp torso. The darkness at the back of his throat was hypnotic to her; fantasies of becoming his prey consumed her, and a growing sense of delirium blocked out her surroundings. Only the feeling of his hand on her neck remained, alongside the heat flowing from his open maw and the throbbing sensation in her loins. Whether she had been taking his cock for a minute or a day, she could not tell. The discomfort and arousal evident on her face made Victor lose control. He instinctively tightened his grip on her and hit her with a flurry of wild thrusts. The dragalge was blown away, moaning loud as he finished her off. He kept pumping while her fluids covered his fur, and he came inside her with a deep grunt of satisfaction. A torrent of scorching seed filled her pussy to the brim, comforting her battered body with perfect warmth. He pulled out and sat cross-legged by the tip of her tail, hunched over with his elbows on his knees. After taking a moment to catch his breath, he carefully slid his cock between his jaws and began to lick the stickiness off. The strong scent of his musk occupied his nose while he slurped up the bitter mixture of fox and dragalge cum that coated his nether regions. After giving his abs and balls a good tongue-scrub too, he sat up straight and asked his mate a question: 

“So, How’d I do?” 

She wrapped her arms around him, and a long, tender kiss graced his cheek. He took that as a “good job,” and stroked her scaly back in return. Though the violence of his thrusts had satisfied the dragalge’s sexual appetite beyond all expectations, it did nothing to abate her hunger. She placed the wingull boy in Victor’s lap and took the bird of the fairer sex for herself. The fox’s belly grumbled longingly in the ears of his hopeless prey, sending a surge of vibrations through his flesh. Victor delicately scooped him up with both hands, and brought him to his snout. He looked upon the wingull’s face with sorrow, knowing he would sorely miss his company after biting his head off. He felt a warm sort of camaraderie with his prey, and a twinge guilt of kept his maw closed.

“I know this sounds stupid, mistress, but I’ve grown kind of attatched to this fella. Would you mind trading prey?”

“Hey now,” said the male wingull sternly, “if you like me at all, don’t give me to the reptile. If we’re friends at all, spare me the pain of being digested alive. Chomp my neck like you should’ve done when I tried to slip away. Dignify me with a civilized death. Perhaps you want to spend your last moments melting away in that thing’s belly, but I’m not so keen on the prospect. Please, for the love of everything decent, don’t condemn me to burn in your abomination-of-a-fuckbuddy’s gut. This is my dying wish, and it’s not a tall order. I’m sorry I don’t have much to offer you as payment, but that’s how it is.”

The female wingull was equally repulsed by the dragalge, and did not intend to become her prey either.

“Please, mister fox, pick me instead! I’ll do whatever you want! I won’t squak, I won’t thrash, I’ll be yours entirely! Think of what you can do with a chick my size. You can kill me with anal sex. You can crush me with one pound. Besides, don’t you know that it’s gay to eat another man? His dick will be in your mouth!”

She puffed herself up, sticking out her chest and fluffing her feathers.

“I’m bigger than him, too! You’ll be full for longer if you eat me! I’ll leave more pudge on your body, and I’ll feel way better coming out! You’re about to eat your last meal, why settle for a scrawny little cunt like him?”

She pointed at the male gull with her wing. He offered his rebuttal calmly:

“Look at the poor gal! She’s barely able to hold back her tears, she’s so terrified. She will not make it easy for you, despite what she promises now. She will beg and fight and make you feel ashamed simply for having breakfast. Don’t fall for it - you can eat me instead, and your life will be simple. Have I not demonstrated acceptance of my fate? On the topic of size, remember that you’re the servant here. You should settle for the meagre meal and give my plump friend to your keeper. Anything else would be disrespectful to her, and I know you aim to please the lady. I doubt I need to mention the fact that your life depends on it. And surely, you won’t be fooled by my companion’s ridiculous claim that ingesting a man would make you a homosexual? It’s the oldest trick in the book, really - ‘do as I say, or you’re a fag.’ I’ll bet you’ve eaten a thousand slabs of meat in your life, and never once questioned the sex of the slaughtered animal. Picking me as your prey would only be weird if you made it weird. As I have explained, there are multiple important factors to consider when choosing your meals - size, trust, desperation, personality, willingness, et cetera. If you are reasonable, you will not factor sex into your decision. I am a wingull. Birds do not have dicks. You will not notice my genitalia, I guarantee it. Put an end to this pointless quibbling and be my executioner.”

Victor saw something relatable in the bird’s knitted brow. If they had not been on track to becoming dragon shit, he would have invited him over for a beer with the boys. His arguments were bulletproof too, in Victor’s view.

“Aw, who am I kidding? I can’t say no to a plea like that. You’ve got personality, keepin’ it classy ’till the very end. You’re a better man than I; I’ll be squealing like a pig when it’s my turn to be prey. Go sit by the fire, I’ll call you over when the time comes…”

He tilted his head at the dragalge.

“… If that’s OK with you, of course.”

She schhlrsch’d in assent, to the relief of both Victor and the wingull. She was eager to see him kill a sentient being with his bare hands (or teeth) and her thirst for gore had been building since Victor stripped the meat off his basculin, but she could wait a little longer if that was what he wanted.

With his fate sorted out, the wingull took a moment to impart his thanks upon the fox: 

“I appreciate the mercy and the compliment. Don’t feel bad about having your fun - I might not think highly of you for going out in a blaze of horny, mindless fatalism; but holding yourself back from fear of my judgement wouldn’t be much better.”

The wingull, apparently done with the conversation, picked up some loose algae from the ground. He rolled it into a cylinder, lit it with the nearest fire, and started smoking it with an air of luxury. Victor found this extremely cool. He sat and stared for a moment, trying to come up with praise befitting such an impressive attitude. The wingull looked him in the eyes with the glare of a disgruntled boss. 

“What are you waiting for, boy? Your woman isn’t going to fuck herself.” He turned his attention back to the floor and took a thoughtful puff of his makeshift cigar.

“Damn straight,” said Victor with a nod and a smile. 

The female wingull looked up at him with puppy dog eyes in a last-ditch attempt to earn his favor.

“Please…”

“I’ve made my choice,” he replied with authoritative stoicism, pointing to a spot beside the furthest fire. “Go sit in the corner like a good girl.”

She wailed in despair, diving at Victor’s leg and hugging it tight. He felt her warm tears soaking into his ankle, and started feeling a bit bad for her.

“Come on now, being my prey isn’t that much better than being hers,” he said with a nod towards the dragalge. 

“Instead of getting your neck wrung like a chicken, you’ll be gurgled up in half a minute. 30 seconds of pure agony, mind you, but still just 30 seconds. I get where you’re coming from - I’m going to be dragalge food too, and I’ll take even longer to digest. Just try not to think about it. Go learn or be productive while you still can. Try to think of a way to escape, or something.“

He lifted her to his face, kissed her on the beak, and stroked her gently for a minute. Her tears slowed down, she started getting quieter, and she seemed ready to calm down.

“Now you’re getting it. You might not have much time left, but you should still try to be better. Get a hold of your feelings, then you can figure out the best use of your remaining minutes.”

After giving her one last pat on the head, he placed her in the corner and started back towards the dragalge. The wingull chased him and pounced on his foot again, causing him to yelp in shock. Having nearly tripped because of the grab, he glared at the bird with disgruntled surprise.

“Why must you ruin my final hours? I know you’re afraid, but at this point you’re just being selfish. All I want to do is dick my predator down before she consumes me, and you won’t let me. You whine and pull hair until you have your way. I’ll tell you what your parents clearly forgot to: grow up. Don’t be a brat. Don’t be a bully. Fall in line and you’ll be at peace. Trust me, my fellow prey, I know from experience.”

He stared menacingly at her for a few more seconds, and she clearly did not want to let go. Victor had to remove her by force, slapping her into the corner with a harsh backhand. 

“Come back mister Fox,” she cried out, “Don’t you want to eat me? Follow your instincts and crunch me up for yourself. She’s going to eat you next anyways, so I’ll nourish her as part of you. Don’t let her eat me alive. I don’t deserve to melt inside her, but you deserve a fat bird in your stomach. You know it’ll feel good, chewing me into pulp with your big, powerful teeth and feeling my remains pump through your loud, hungry man-guts. I know you want to feel my blood coursing down your throat and filling up your furry belly. I can pleasure you more than this dragalge ever could. Don’t let that bitch trick you into being prey. You could eat everyone in the room, if you wanted to. I can see your cock getting harder at the thought. You can have bellyful of dragon. You’ll be the apex predator, instead of fish food. You’ll look so sexy, picking our feathers and scales from between your teeth. You’ll show your big, noisy belly off to your friends and tell them all about who you ate. They’ll ask you for proof, and you’ll burp up a dragalge’s skull, slimy with your acids and her blood. The ladies will line up to suck your dick and rub your tummy; one or two might offer themselves up as food for you. All you have to do is bite, and the mighty sea serpent will be sushi. Nothing but a fox’s lunch. You’re salivating. You’re dripping with pre. There’s nothing left to do but dominate. Admit it, you want to be king. You want the whole world in your belly. Go ahead and sate your hunger. Nobody can stop you. Be a man and put this scaly skank in her place.”

She fluttered a few feet off the ground and tapped his toned abdomen to clarify her point.

grrrrwrgle

Victor, for a moment, was convinced. He heard his empty stomach growl, and could not deny his desire to stuff his captor down his throat. Then, she put her hand on his shoulder and made his blood run cold with a menacing grumble. Reminded of the dragon’s power, he knew his predatory fantasy could never be. You’re prey, he said to himself, so make the best of it. He shook his head and turned away from the crestfallen wingull.

“Have some compassion,” she pleaded, “I’m at your mercy. I’ve done nothing to you, all I want is a humane death. Come back, Mr. Fox, you’re the only one who can save me from her gut.”

With that, she burst into tears and started crawling back towards him. Her lamentations were getting on his nerves, rather than coaxing out his sympathy as intended.

“Silence!” he shouted angrily as he punted the wingull back into the corner. She curled up facing the wall, trying and failing to hold her sniffles back. She was able to reduce their volume significantly, leaving Victor satisfied. He chose not to push his luck, worried that further beating or comfort would only make her cry more.

He clambered back onto the dragalge, but she pushed him away with her fin.

“What’s wrong? What did I say?” asked Victor, who was looking forward to getting back inside her. “Don’t you want the hot dog?”

She reassured him with a lick on the dick, before extending her tongue towards the appointed wingull. Her soft weeping was making the dragalge hungry and grumpy. Fluttering and screaming as the male wingull predicted, she pecked at the pink appendage as it wrapped around her leg and pulled her to the dragalge’s mouth. 

“NO, PLEASE! LET ME GO, I’LL DO ANYTHING,” she begged. The wingull could tell by the expression on her predator’s face that she would not release her, so she turned to Victor with tears streaming down her feathers.

“You’re a brute, mister fox! It didn’t have to be this way. I could have been dead, and you could have been full. But instead, you dedicated yourself to serving this soulless, cold-blooded seahorse and chose to send me to her belly to satisfy your own sick fetish. I’ll be cursing your name until I bleed out, MISTER FOX, because you are the most disgusting man in the universe! Quit simping and slay the damn dragon, or she’ll eat you too! I know you think that’s hot, but it won’t be worth it because you’ll be FUCKING DEAD. At least put me out of my misery. Please, if you have a shred of kindness inside you, just lean forward and bite my head off. It’s not too late to fix your mistake. Kill me while you still can, it’s your last chance to make things right. One chomp. That’s all it will take. Is that too much to ask?”

“No can do. She wants to feel you struggle in her tummy, and what kind of pet would I be if I deprived her of that? She would not take such a betrayal very well, and the fact that I’m not being tortured is contingent on my servitude.”

The wingull decided not to provide a thoughtful reply, breaking into a pitiful wail instead. 

“Sorry,” Victor apologized, “but my girl’s gotta eat, too.”

She kept on bawling, unwilling or unable to fabricate a coherent response. Victor’s patience ran dry.

“Shut her up, mistress.”

The dragalge’s tongue tightened around the wingull, taking away her ability to make noise.

“Don’t cry, the world will go on without you. Farewell, little seagull. I look forward to your digestion.”

Victor leaned forward and gave the weeping bird a long, gentle kiss on her crown.

“I’m ready, hun. Eat up!”

The wingull squealed in horror before being cut off by a loud slurp, which sucked her entirely into the dragalge’s mouth. Victor shoved her further in with one finger, leaving her at the top of the dragalge’s throat.

GULP

A single effortless swallow made the prey go away. The male wingull was turned from the action, but the shadows on the wall showed the bulge of his companion sink into the dragalge’s torso. Well, he acknowledged mentally, that’s the end of her. He heard the monster’s stomach gurgle and growl as it pumped acids onto her victim’s head and squeezed her ever tighter. 

“Should I just let her melt,” Victor asked, “or should I help you out?”

The dragalge nodded, desperate to feel his strong hands press the life out of her meal. He grabbed her gut with both paws, felt around for the wingull, and squeezed her as hard as he could. The dragalge loved the way he hunched over her with a gurgling stomach and bared teeth. The light was coming from behind him, but she could make out his well-sculpted abs, his fully-flexed arms, and his throbbing cock hanging just above her tail. The wingull’s skull held out for ten seconds, before shattering into a dozen tiny shards under Victor’s weight. He could feel the bird’s soft remains gush away from his hands like toothpaste in a tube. A barbaric roar from Victor filled the grotto, striking awe into the dragalge’s soul and scaring the pants off of the remaining wingull. He smiled proudly at his biceps, indulging in a satisfied, nearly narcissistic growl. The dragalge was thoroughly smitten, and coiled her tongue around his right arm. She guided his hand towards her belly and placed it in the center. Victor pushed down softly at first, slowly rubbing it with a circular motion. He gradually increased the pressure, putting more of his weight on it and forcing greater amounts of liquid wingull through her sphincter every second. His warmth and strength melted her heart, forcing her to relax and let him do the work. He loved every moment of rubbing as much as the dragalge did. Before the minute was over, the last of the seagull soup had drained into her intestines, leaving her tummy empty again. 

“That was fast!” said Victor, impressed. “We make a good team.”

The dragalge blew out a watery roar, clearly overcome by lust. Victor correctly assumed it meant “FUCK ME, VICTOR! FUCK ME RIGHT NOW, FUCK ME ‘TILL I CAN’T MOVE!”

He could not keep her waiting any longer. A huge pool of wetness sat below her glistening pussy, expanding with every new drop of feminine nectar that trickled out. Victor’s balls rested in the puddle, which allowed them to painlessly slide along the concrete floor like an ice rink. He pulled the dragalge beneath him so their genitals were aligned, kissed her tenderly on the lips, and wound up for his next thrust. She braced herself for his cock, flexing her every muscle stiff. The impact sent a jolt through her whole body with a delightfully deafening, soaking-wet SMACK! Victor followed it up with a series of hard knocks, each of which brought the dragalge visibly closer to climax. He refused to grant her relief, ramping up the pace with every slam. Her vaginal walls were set ablaze by the continuous rubbing of his shaft, and his girth stretched her vulva to its limit. His warmth coursed into her loins, lifting her to a state of complete comfort. His stamina astonished the dragon - his cock never slowed down, his muscles never relaxed, and his lust never diminished. He pounded her enthusiastically for minutes on end, ignoring the loud grumbling of his empty stomach. The wingull heard the gurgling too, and could not suppress a bitter frown in light of his apparent fate. Victor’s hot, horny breath billowed onto the dragalge, and she inhaled it with unquenchable thirst. He also blew a fishy urp at her as he finished digesting the basculin. It was a small belch, but flavourful and from deep within his guts. He plunged back into her pussy, bashing her into the floor with the force of a thousand falling anvils. A huff of pleasure escaped her lips, and he knew she was about to squirt. He lifted his hips once again, and drove his wood into her with all his strength.

SCHWUMP!

Victor came balls-deep inside the dragalge, roaring louder than she would have thought possible. She stared spellbound at his shining teeth and the red roof of his maw while she soaked his legs and belly with her cum. After an extraordinarily long orgasm, Victor hung his head and opened his eyes; the dragalge came back to her senses shortly after. Victor let himself fall completely limp, flopping directly on top of the dragalge with a drooping tongue and panting lungs. Heavy as Victor was, the dragalge wanted to spend eternity resting under his cozy fluff. The dragon and her mate lay idle for a while longer, simply enjoying the feeling of each other’s bodies. That is, until Victor got too hungry and the dragalge got too thirsty. His belly growled intensely, casting a feederistic blush across her face. She stretched her tongue towards the wingull, grabbed him by the foot, and dropped him upside-down on the bigger man’s snout. The bird set himself back upright, straightened out his feathers, and turned to his predator with a stolid gaze. 

“I’m ready, boy. Do what you must.”

Victor rested the wingull against his chest, softly stroking his feathered head with the grain.

“Don’t worry, little fella, I’ll make it quick. No hard feelings?” 

“No hard feelings whatsoever. I’m still a bit sour about dying and all, but you’ve been better than I could have expected anybody in your position to be. In situations like these, it’s better to hate the game than the player.”

[The wingull shall be killed cleanly and eaten messily. Skip the red text if you don’t like chewing.]

The wingull fell silent, calmly waiting for death to come. Victor saw his expression of grim acceptance, and knew the time had arrived. The dim cavern was silent, but for the crackling of the fires, the waves crashing outside, the pounding of Victor’s heart, and the rumbling of his gut. The predator let his prey cherish the world of the living for a few moments longer, appreciating the last seconds of their friendship though his stomach despised him for it. He took the wingull’s head in one hand, held his body steady with the other, and wrung his neck with one sharp twist. He didn’t bother asking for last words; he knew that the wingull would have spat them out already if he wanted them to be anything in particular. He was somewhat dissapointed that the gull didn’t say goodbye with a good piece of wisecrack (as he doubtlessly could have come up with), but admired his decision not to say anything flashy. It took a rare sort of man, in Victor’s opinion, to neither melt down in the face of death like he’s the center of the universe, nor belittle it or pretend not to care using a joke. He felt bad about never learning his name, but he probably would have felt worse about killing him if he knew it. The wingull, Victor was convinced, refused to mention it for this very reason. Hey, he thought, at least he kept his dignity and died painlessly. On that comforting note, he snapped back to reality. Laying seductively on her side for him was an incalculably thirsty dragon, waiting for him to sink his teeth into his prey and dick her down with blood on his breath. Her dripping tongue hung a few inches out of her snout, making her that much sexier. Her leaking vulva, slick with clear discharge, begged for his shaft. The words of the wingull echoed in Victor’s mind: “What are you waiting for, boy? Your woman isn’t going to fuck herself. Don’t feel bad about having your fun.” He stood up and walked confidently towards his waiting host, looming fully-erect over her with the wingull between his teeth. Don’t worry, he mentally promised the dead bird, I’ll put you to good use. 

Victor bit down on his prey. A jet of blood squirted from the wounds, filling his mouth with a salty flavor and covering the dragalge in a coat of crimson. The bird was split in half instantly; his head rolled freely as his guts spilled haphazardly onto Victor’s tongue. Both his wings were crumpled up by his predator’s vicious molars, and every feather was stained red. One strong chomp shattered the pokemon’s skull to pieces with a sickening crack. Skin, flesh, and feather alike were cut to pieces and ground into mush between the canine’s terrible jaws. The chunks were diced smaller and smaller until they could be torn no more. Wingull juice trickled out from between his teeth, dripping down his chin and onto his chest. The dragalge watched in aroused horror as he smashed his meal into helpless pulp. Ready to swallow it down, Victor gave his mate a final look at his pulverized prey.

“Shay bye to Bird-boy!”

He knelt down and stretched his maw wide, leaning in so she could see his meal in all its hideous detail. Her snout hovered right above it, and his bottom teeth touched her neck. She instinctively tried to back away, but she was already pressing against the wall. The smell of shredded tissue hit her like a truck; she could taste the deathly vapors rising from the levigated corpse. She dipped her tongue into the abhorrent mess, and quickly recoiled it in disgust. It was as if he digested his prey before swallowing. That aboninable mess would be me, she realized in terror, if this guy weren’t such a horny coward. He could bite down on my neck right now, and he’d turn me into a nondescript pile of red matter within the minute. His acid-tainted breath enveloped her head, and pre-cum fell from his cock onto her chest down below. Not only was she horrified by the atrocious sight in front of her eyes, she was shocked and nauseated by her own perverted desire to be ripped apart inside his bloody mouth, melted to soup in his hungry tummy, and pumped through his muscular gut until she was his. She heard it gurgle impatiently in anticipation of the coming meal, and could barely stop herself from diving down his throat. Hot, sticky spit oozed onto her head from above, flowing down in strands from his teeth. He smushed and stirred the meaty mash with his tongue, enjoying his last taste of the wingull while showing off his work to the dragalge. He pushed his food towards his throat, pulled away from the dragalge, and swallowed about half the meat in one long GLUNK. Another load followed, entering his throat with a triumphant ULP. He licked the rest of it off his teeth, and a wet GLRK sent it away, never to return. The wingull’s crushed remains were reconstituted as an amorphous blob in the fox’s belly, mixing with his stomach acids to form a thin red slurry. 

Victor’s scarlet snout opened back up to release a pungent, gory HRAAAAAAGH upon the poor dragon, who had never seen anything as hot or morbid in her entire life.

“That’s how we do it on dry land. If you liked that, I could crunch up a dozen more birds for ya!”

The dragalge put a fin on top of his head and playfully shook his hair about, bringing a deceptively innocent smile to his face. She wrapped her arms around his hips and hugged his belly tight, utterly enamored by its frequent gurgles and cushy texture. Completely content with his meal and his mate, Victor relaxed as the seaweed dragon closed her eyes and leaned into his gut. He did not have to say a single word to coax her into giving him belly rubs; the gwrrrrns and blrrrbls of his tummy made his desires perfectly clear. His thick fur blocked out all other sound from the dragalge’s ears, immersing her in a world of warmth and gurgles. She heard every sizzle, blorp, and glorp of his acids, and felt his abdomen pulsate as his stomach pumped globs of his deliquesced prey into his waiting intestines. His loving paws stroked her scales softly with the grain, starting at her neck and flowing down her back. He gently pressed on the back of her head, forcing her face deeper into his limp abs. She blushed hard at this unsolicited (but desperately desired) move, which had struck the perfect balance of caring and dominance for her tastes. The additional pressure pushed some of the air out of his belly in a seemingly-endless 

BWUUUUUUUAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRrrrrrrrrrrrrrrph…

The aroma of avian blood mingled with the musky odor of his cock and balls, pulling the dragalge into an even deeper level of lust. A shiver ran through her body when he expelled the remaining gas with a nonchalant blurph. It wasn’t enough that he killed an intelligent being with his bare hands and reduced him to a bloody mess with a few seconds of chewing, she wanted to see him getting off to his own power and cruelty. She glimpsed a savage predator behind his agreeable demeanor, and wanted to draw the beast into the open to fall victim to his boundless lust. As the area’s apex predator, she could rape as many animals as she liked, but there was something better about taking the cock of a rival. The top of the food chain is a lonely place indeed, and Victor was the kind of guy she wanted to (temporarily) share the throne with. She wound a fin around his wrist, wrapped his hand around his prick, and gave it a yank.

“Aw, have I tired you out already? You want me to beat off?”

The dragalge nodded.

“Are you sure? I can save myself for later if you want, and it seems like an awful waste to blow my load in the open air. We can cuddle while you rest, I’m not going anywhere.”

The dragalge swished impatiently, giving his hand a harder tug.

“If you say so…” said Victor, flattered by the dragalge’s intense interest in watching him masturbate. “Enjoy the show!”

He stood above her with one foot on either side of her chest, leaving his junk to hang directly over it. Four strong fingers wrapped around the base, leaving several inches of red, unsheathed glory visible to her. She lubed it up with a generous helping of saliva, and let the man do his thing. His hands sped up as his arousal built, flinging flecks of the dragalge’s drool back onto her. Her spit feels great on my rod, remarked Victor internally, and soon enough it’ll coat my whole body. I’ll slide down her neck like my cock through my paws. He closed his eyes and imagined how she would look after eating him. He watched her oversized belly lose shape, shrinking with every gurgle and groan. And then, he thought, I’ll be dead. I’ll lose my blood, pass out, and fall apart. No more fur, no more bones, just a load of red water pooling in her tummy and pumping through her intestines. I will be seahorse poop. Nobody will ever find out what happened to my body. Maybe some bright mind would see where my car sank, and assume the dragalge got me. The sun would rise the next morning, and she’d be hungry again. She’d wake up, get one last taste of me from a stale burp, and go hunting again to find new prey to sate her growling belly. She’ll barely remember me, among the thousands of meals that lost their lives in her gut. I’ll be just like that pizza I ate the other day: I will be devoured, melted, and shat out without a second thought. She won’t chew me up, but the end result will be the same. I will be fuel for some loud, nasty belches, like the pizza was. Her stomach will be flat again - like mine on the morning after the pizza. She won’t even gain a whole pound. My fur will dissolve, my skin will come off, my veins will open, and it’ll all be over. I’ll have no more hope, no more love, no more strength. No more body. No more mind. But she’ll still be here, sexy as ever. Every few hours, somebody else will be burnt into energy for her. She’ll burp out their last breaths, hear their last words, and feel their last struggles. I wonder how long I’ll last in there. Thirty seconds? A minute? How loud will I scream? Will anybody hear it? Will I be aroused when I die? Would she be able to tell? Would she get off to it? Either way, I’m her property. I’m a dead man walking; that’s all I know for sure.

And somehow, here I am. Dangling my balls over her slender frame, about to cum on her willing face. Maybe she’ll remember this. Maybe I’ve given her the best sex she’ll ever take. But that won’t matter. I might be cute and I might be dangerous, but I’m still just a fox. I’m still food. It doesn’t matter how much she likes me, she’ll eat me from force of habit. The brain’s a slave to the belly, so I’m going in and there’s nothing I can do.

Victor opened his eyes. The dragalge’s upper body lay below him, even hotter than he remembered. He picked up his train of thought right where it left off:

God, look at that face! That snout is going to be my doom. I’m going to fall into the darkest, tightest abyss on the planet earth. My head is going to pass through there, my chest is going to be squeezed through next, my tummy will slide in, and my paws will be sucked up. Oh dragalge, keep looking at me that way! Keep drooling at my cock, keep fearing my teeth, keep loving my fluff and keep coveting my flesh! Bask in my shadow, fill my ears with the cries of your gut! Behold my abdomen, and feel the weight of my prey. Remember how my molars crushed his bones to powder and ground his organs to pulp. Think of his mutilated corpse inside my mouth, and worship my muzzle. Drink it all in, mistress, because soon enough, it’ll all be part of you.

The dragalge thirstily enjoyed the view from down below, salivating profusely. She had been looking for a mate like him for a long time - somebody who found nothing more arousing than her cold stare and a bellyful of meat. Victor dropped to his knees so she could get a closer look at his cock and balls. She could feel the warmth emanating from his dripping erection, and could see every vein. He brought his stomach closer to her, too; she could hear it rumbling loud and clear. She imagined the chewed-up wingull melting in the darkness of his strong, bloody belly, and pictured the fleshy slop draining into his bowels. She heard it slosh against the walls of his tummy with every pump of his hand, and heard the foam fizzling inside as its contents settled back down. His stormy gut kept bubbling in her ears as he used his free hand to pick small bones from between his teeth. He wiggled them out one by one, and let them clatter to the ground beside the dragalge’s head. When the last of them was gone, he leaned over her with one paw on the wall near her head. When their snouts were nice and close, he lowered his massive maw onto her and let loose an enormous OOOOOOOOOUUUUAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRGH from the depths of his gurgling belly. The stench nearly knocked her out, the heat made her dizzy, the saliva soaked her head, and the sheer force of the burp pushed her against the ground.

Victor, without warning, grabbed her by the throat and flipped her over. Before she could react, a fat wad of flesh plugged her bowels. She decided it was best not to react at all. Victor, still on his knees, brought her asshole to his round peg with one hand and steadied himself by planting his other hand on her back. Then, he plunged into her with a buck of his hips, simultaneously tugging her ass down his length with his hand. She was once again knocked into a state of pleasurable, submissive shock. Her anal ring was stretched airtight around his male member, aching as it stretched around his girth. It went in rough and red, but came out brown and slippery. Her soft abdomen bulged out with every pound, sloshing and gurgling through it all. He breached her butt with another heavy bash, forcing a moan of delighted discomfort from his flexible victim.

“How does it feel, woman, to get ground into the floor by the thrusting of your own prey? How does it feel to get treated like a fleshlight by a stranger in your own home? How does it feel to be overpowered by a mere mammal? Do you feel that damp sensation on your back? That’s my meal’s blood, soaked into my chest. You watched it pour from between my jaws as I squeezed it from that corpse like a lemon. You got a good look at how it stained me. Now, I’m painting you red with it. I’m soaked from head to toe in blood, spit, pre, and cum. You, mighty predator, are taking it up the ass from a filthy dog. My cock is getting awfully messy here, and you’re going to be the one to lick it clean. That’s right - some poor bit of your prey will be eaten twice. You are going to suck the dirt and dung from a used rag. Things are going to get a whole lot messier, too. I have you pinned down whether you like it or not, and I won’t let you go until I make you shit. Your muscles won’t be able to take it anymore, and you’ll gush brown all over my cock and balls. That is a fact. I wish we had a mirror in here, so you could see how dumb it looks for a dragalge to enjoy a fox’s wood face-down. You’re being dominated by an inferior being, and all you can do is blush and beg for more. You can gurgle me up like any other slave, but you’ll never forget how I pulverized your rectum to the point of unintentional release. The worst part is, you’ll have to live with the fact that you loved every second of it. You’re not even writhing; shame on you! You’re not spitting acid or making any noise. You are happily and voluntarily being railed by a common laborer with lungs half full of water and possible brain damage. Millions of years of evolution have determined that my species is prey for yours, and yet, you act like I was meant to be your master. We met two and a half hours ago, you don’t even know my name, and you’re already madly in love with me. If the world made sense, you would have me tied down. I’d be too scared or aroused to fight back, and too badly injured to move. You would be raping my sensitive anus with your powerful tongue, and I’d be screaming for mercy. But because you’re a deviant without any self-control, I am on top of you. I am your captive, toy, and pet; and somehow you’ve managed to become the sex object here. I was completely dedicated to pleasing you. But you threw me a bone. You drew a monster out of my heart that I didn’t know existed. And now, he’s in control. Servitude and battery - that’s the price of your thirst. Why does this make you happy? What unholy combination of fetishes has driven you to this abject state of willing submission to your food?”

Victor stopped speaking, allowing the dragalge to shamefully ponder her unusual situation. But she was too aroused to think about the bizarre nature of her pleasure, much less be ashamed of it. Victor’s shit-smeared cock was still slipping in and out of her, and she could not get used to it. After a few more minutes of intercourse, his grounded arm grew tired, so he had to change position. Without pulling his stick out of her, he sat up with his back against the wall. He slowly lifted the dragalge’s bunghole to the tip of his cock, and yanked her back down with scary speed. The impact sent a jolt up the woman’s spine. She clenched around Victor’s meat as he pulled her back up for the next thrust. 

Schlop!

Victor himself even flinched when he brought the dragon down on his spear, as each tug smashed the base of her tail into his ballsack. It hurt more than enough to be stimulating, but not enough to be jarring; he could barely have given his nuts a better beating with his own two hands. More shit was left behind by consecutive whacks, spreading from his shaft to his belly and balls. The smell was starting to hit him pretty hard, but he liked it. The dragalge was covered in her scat too, though she was too distracted to care.

“C’mon, girl, Keep it inside! It’s unbecoming to have your shit forced out by your prey’s cock, not to mention unsanitary…”

He exhaled in pure pleasure as he broke into her rectum for the fiftieth time since he sat up.

“… But if you gotta go, you gotta go!”

Then, he picked up the pace. He was determined to make the dragalge void her bowels in his lap - after all, he had given her his word, and any man worth the hair on his nuts would keep such a promise to his mate. He started hitting her with 2 pounds per second; soon enough, he was sliding her up at the same speed he was slamming her down. Her attention was fully dedicated to Victor’s boner as it battered her insides with multiple hits in quick succession. She bounced on it as if weightless; Victor’s hands were moving as fast as they would if he were getting off alone. On the way up, her upper body wanted to scrunch like an accordion. On the way down, it felt as if she was being pulled into spaghetti. He panted all over her back and shoulders, driving her up the wall with the smell of wingull and with his hot, humid breath. His thrusting allowed her no relief, keeping her cornhole stretched and stuffed for minutes on end. His fat stiffy rammed her caca back to its source, pushing it up into her large intestine. The crushing force of his hand and the bloating force of his sodomy staff made her simultaneously feel like a crumpling soda can and an inflating baloon. She plummeted over and over again upon his thick club, and felt her muscles nearing her limit. Unless she could make him cum within the minute, she knew he would wear her anus out to the point of incontinence as foretold. She tried playing with his ass and nuts using her tail, but the hits just kept coming. His labored breathing and occasional whining indicated intense pleasure, but it was not enough.

Schlap!

The dragalge’s eyes rolled back into her head, and she shook with painful, lusty, overwhelmed bliss. Her muscles went taught, exerting immense pressure on her pent-up dung in an effort to push it out. Yet something was in the way - Victor felt a wet mass crush his boner from all around, trying to force its way past. The dragalge grunted in anal anguish, unable to pump out the dark mess that so desperately wanted to escape. The fox kept his lumber inside her for a few more excruciating seconds, just to let the pressure build up. When he unplugged her asshole, a torrent of smooth paste blasted his filthy meat, flowing to the floor and creating a fat pile between his thighs. The unbroken coils were almost as thick as the dragon herself, burying her mate’s tool until it was no longer visible. Creamy and uniform, the scat was medium brown with a tint of yellow. Not a single bone survived; all the dragalge’s prey were blended together into one big lump by her digestive system. Victor was holding her in the air by her neck, and could feel her getting lighter with every foot of tawny stool that gushed out. He squeezed her gut with his other hand, helping her force the crap out faster. The last of the muck dropped out of her anus cleanly, and she could finally relax. That is, until Victor held her sore anus to his lips and started to lick it clean. 

She was caught off-guard by the feeling of his rough, gooey tongue sensually wiping the slop from her ass. It felt great - she never wanted to take another shit without a man on standby to rub it off of her and gulp it away. The sexual impact of having her anus tongued compounded irresistably with the satisfaction of losing the sticky, awful feeling of a crap-caked bum. A few more playful slurps took away most of the rancid tar from her bottom, and by Victor’s standards, it was absolutely delicious. He felt her shiver on his tongue as he pressed her into it, slowly drawing it back into his mouth with her feculence on it. When his tongue’s tip finally flicked away from her, the outside surface of her bum was left spotless and glistening with drool. She tickled the end of his snout with her shit-stained tail, clearly asking for more. He raised her above his head, stretched his maw wider than she thought possible, and lowered her bottom half inside. Holding her steady between his jaws, he plunged his tongue into her rubbery ring and swirled it around her rectum, extracting the slime that coated its inner walls. The loving warmth and cleansing humidity inside his mouth lifted her into tranquil bliss, taking her mind off of the bruises and stiff muscles he had given her during intercourse. He kept his sausage under her excrement the whole time, enjoying its heat and soft weight on his membrum virile as the mound shone in the light of the fire. His tummy was still working noisily on his avian meal, churning it to a thick, mushy soup. The dragalge hissed gratefully for the analingus, addicted to the feeling of Victor’s tongue taking the bitter residue from her dirtiest chamber. He withdrew his tongue from her anus, swallowed a mouthful of tainted saliva, and gently pushed his mouthmeat back in for another load of coprolite. This cycle of restful intimacy enthralled both participants - Victor was totally focused on cleaning the bitterness from every corner of the dragalge’s depths, and she was enraptured by his warm, wet work. They went on for half an hour, leaving the dragalge’s butt cleaner than ever before. Thirty minutes turned to forty, and the taste of shit had faded from Victor’s mouth. He kept going for the mild taste of her flesh and the subtle trickle of cum that came from her vulva. She never wanted to leave the squishy warmth of his muzzle, like a gliscor under her favorite duvet on a freezing morning. Still halfway in his mouth, she turned around to give him better access to her pussy. He took advantage obligingly, slowly working his tongue into her sex.

The moment was ended by an unanticipated OUAAAAAARRRP. The stench of feces, alongside a few bloody, half-digested feathers from his chyme-laden belly, shot out of Victor’s pharynx and into the dragalge’s face. She wanted, for a brief interval, to be swallowed like ordinary food and melted to mush in his muscular gut, but she quickly returned to her senses and decided not to let him know. One of the expelled feathers stuck to her forehead with a loud splat; she licked it off and ate it without a second thought. Visibly grossed out by his own caustic outburst, Victor kept his mouth open with the intent to cease all oral fun. He gently drew her spit-drenched tail out of his esophagus, sliding her slowly up his tongue and into the open air. She bid farewell to his steamy maw, watching sorrowfully as his dark throat, loyal tongue, and dependably ruthless teeth were hidden behind his closing lips. 

“Agh,” he said as he cradled the happy dragon in his arms, “I have no clue where that came from. I’m so sorry, I’ve ruined the mood. Bleh. I’m repulsive and I know it.“

She coiled herself loosely around his chest, resting her chin on his shoulder from behind. When he turned his head to smile at her, she engaged him in a deep french kiss. Their tongues played jovially; he lightly chewed on hers to make things interesting. Hey, he thought, at least I’m not gross to her! Having gotten that point across, the serpent broke off the kiss and slithered to the floor.

Victor pulled his cock out of her monstrous dump, stood up, stretched, and yawned. Taking the time to properly admire the turd, he wondered how such a large quantity of waste could fit in the dragalge’s skinny body, but chose not to question it further.

“So that’s what three basculin and a wingull look like after a trip through your system,” he said, “You guts are fast and thorough! I wonder if I’ll look any different on the way out.”

“Your ass-batter didn’t taste half bad either,” he added, “Don’t even get me started on the smell; I could go on all day about it.”

The dragalge enjoyed Victor’s honest compliments, but stayed silent. She was still bathing in the afterglow of having her bowels emptied by tongue, content as a woman could be.

Her boy thumped on his chest with the inside of his fist to get the rest of his gas out, expelling it in two smaller burps of middling pitch. The dragalge could smell her own shit on his breath, and he could certainly taste it. 

“Again, I apologize for my belly. In my defense, I don’t usually swallow feathers or bone. Urph.”

He pushed his gut out, held it in both hands, and briefly shook it up and down. He heard solids hitting each other inside, before plopping back down and sinking into his digestive slop. They poked and rubbed against his stomach walls on the way, which made for an unusual sensation indeed.

“Oh gosh, I can feel them shifting around in there. I think we may have a problem. All the meat is gone, it’s like I ate a pack of nails.”

Glorp

He gripped his upset stomach as it grumbled with determination, squishing and squeezing it in hopes of accelerating its work.

“C’mon, belly! You can do it! It’s just a little calcium, nothing you can’t handle. Just a few bird bones.”

A few more minutes of massaging, gurgling, and belching passed, but no visible progress was made. Victor, eager as he was to fully process his prey, soon grew disheartened at the sluggish pace of his digestive system. Even as the wingull’s softer parts started draining from his chamber of hunger, the skeleton within remained hard as rock.

“Fuck, I hope they don’t sit there forever. I’ll break them down eventually, right?”

The dragalge nodded, fully confident in Victor’s ability to digest his prey.

“You know what? You’re right. I’m being paranoid. I’m a carnivore. I’m built for this.”

He leaned close to his belly, and spoke to its long-dead contents:

“Hear that, birdie? You’re dog food. Down to your last atom. You might be solid now, but when I’m done with you, you’ll be nothing but a creamy brown log. I won’t even be able to tell you had bones at all. I won’t regurgitate a single one. I’m going to digest you, and you’re coming out the other end. Capisce?”

He gave his tummy another solid shove, and was answered with a loud groan.

“Good. Enjoy my guts, while you still can!”

He said goodbye to his meal with a loud, proud URAAAAAAP, well-assured of his capacity to melt him into dog shit.

The dragalge closed her eyes, unable to resist the temptation to doze off after being fucked silly and licked spotless. She could not have cared less about what Victor would do when she fell asleep; all she knew was that she needed rest.

“Hey sleepyhead, it’s not bedtime yet! You gotta clean up after yourself when you crap on a man.”

Victor reached out his arm and nudged her, eager to feel her tongue around his cock again. She groaned at him and buried her head deeper into her coils, mentally worn out by domination and physically worn out by penetration. Being thrown so roughly upon his stud made her feel light-headed, not to mention sore-assed. Her muscles were exhausted too, as she had to keep tense to stop herself from flopping around and hitting the floor or walls during the sex. The cushy warmth of Victor’s tongue had lulled her into a state of deep relaxation, so she refused to get up. He leaned over her and lifted her head to his mouth, softly kissing her on the lips in an effort to get her in the mood.

“You can’t be that tired, I’m the one who did all the moving. The longer you leave it, the deeper it’ll soak in. If it dries up, it’s never coming out.”

She exhaled lethargically, apparently unwilling to put in the effort to suck him clean. He picked up her coiled form and wore her like a necklace, holding the end of her snout an inch away from the shit-covered tip of his rod. The smell awakened her somewhat, stimulating her salivary glands. The bitter smells of dung and man blended together irresistibly, putting the lust back in her loins. She opened her eyes, and was greeted by tantalizing sight of her slave’s filthy cock in the light of the fire.

“Just take the first lick, and the rest will be easy. You know you want to; the taste will perk you right up.”

She reluctantly poked it with the tip of her tongue, and sure enough, the flavor of scat and cum piqued her appetite. She energetically slurped up as much as she could, suddenly stimulated by the delicious bitterness of chocolate-covered fox. Unwilling to waste a single drop of his nut, she dilligently and enthusiastically sucked every gram of saucy residue from his crotch fuzz. She paid special attention to his ballsack, playing with its two great orbs as she restored its stained fur to a brilliant white. She then ventured upwards to his belly, which was positively smeared with her excrement. It groaned softly as the chopped meat within melted into a thick, uniform soup behind his clenched abs. She felt their robust outline beneath his crap-smeared coat, and fell upon her foul task with redoubled lust. Another minute of passionate licking left his stomach squeaky clean; his matted-down fur shined with her clear saliva, and clung tight to his prominent six pack. After taking a second to admire her tongue’s good work on his cock, balls, and tummy, she took to cleaning up his comparatively boring thighs and knees. Neither Victor nor the Dragalge found this particularly exciting, so I’ll spare you the (unbearably lame) details. Not a single smudge of dung remained on him after all was said and done. He still smelled awful, though.

“That’s a good girl. How about we go take a nice bath, just to make sure all the shit’s gone?”

The dragalge nodded. She had enough scatplay for one day.

Victor carried her to the water room, with a flaming wad in his mouth to light the way. He placed it on the ground by the water’s edge, and waded in up to his chest. The cold water shocked him at first, but he knew he had to clean himself up sooner or later. He got used to the temperature before long. After removing all the sticky stuff from their fur and scales, Victor and the dragalge hung out in the pool a while longer. He went back to the shallow end to recline on the sloping bank, where the water reached no higher than his crotch. She lay on his ribs, curling up her excess length in a coil in his lap. She wrapped her fins around him, and he softly stroked her from top to bottom. 

Grugle.

“By the way, you were right about the bones. They’re getting softer in there already, I’ll probably have em’ liquefied in a few hours.”

Gworsh.

He held her head to his belly, kneading it from below with his other hand. She let herself sink into his oh-so-soft gut and let its sweet gurgling work its magic on her mind.

Gwrrrrrrn…

“Hear that? My tummy’s going into overdrive, that bird is mine!”

Glrsh!

“I don’t know if anybody’s told you this before, but you shit well. Seriously. Twelve other girls have relieved themselves on me in the past (not at the same time, mind you!), and I can safely say you did it best. Your technique could use a little work, but the stuff itself was something else. That creamy texture, that tawny sheen, that overpowering taste… everything about it was perfect. I’d paint my house with it, if I could. I’d eat it for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. I know I’ve been begging you to digest me non-stop, but if you wanted to keep me as your permanent scat-boy or sex slave, that’d be fine too.”

The dragalge blushed, flattered by this unusual compliment.

“So, shall we get back to it? I can fuck you right here in the water if you want, or we can go back to the ‘bedroom.’”

The dragalge slithered out of the water, took the wet side of the burning roll with her tongue, and led Victor back the way they came. In the living room/sex dungeon, she lay on her side, waiting for him to seduce her. The weight of his prey felt amazing in his gut, and the abominable growling of his midsection put him in the mood to tease. He sat a few feet away from her, staring hunched-over into the fire in a surprisingly convincing attempt to look pensive.

“Well,” he said with a barely-discernible pout, “I suppose this is the end for me. We don’t have to drag this out any longer. We’re both exhausted. You want to eat, and I want to be eaten. Come here and follow nature’s advice.”

As expected, she remained still, waiting for him to do something sexy.

“I’m ready, mistress. Use my body however you please.”

He leaned back against the wall with the back of his head in his hands, showing off his chest and abs. His well-soaked fur clung close to his skin, making every detail of his muscle apparent to the dragalge. His shoulder and arm fur glistened in the orange light, drawing the dragalge’s gaze to his bulging biceps. His half-hard phallus hung over his crossed shins, dripping water onto the ground below.

“You’ve licked me up and down. You know exactly how I taste. And yet, you can’t bring yourself to eat me. You yearn for my delicious, nutritious flesh, but something’s stopping you from taking it. You just stare at your meal instead of eating it, fantasizing about how filling it will be. You obsess over my cock, but you refuse to slither over and suck it. You don’t want to do anything to me. You want me to do something to you. And if you order me to do it, it wouldn’t be the same. You don’t want to be in control anymore. You want me to fuck you, but asking me to do it would ruin your submissive fantasy. All you can do is wait, hoping and praying that I’ll go mad with lust and rape you. You want me to hold you down while you struggle, turning you from apex predator to helpless victim.”

He shifted into a sort of slav-squat, leaning over the dragalge and letting his dick hang down to the floor.

“Nah, that’s not it. You’re not looking me in the face, but you’re not staring at my cock either. You’re looking at my belly. You’re curious about what it’s like inside. You’re jealous of my prey. You loved the warm, wet, claustrophobic, darkness of my throat; and now you want the full experience. You’ve spent what felt like a lifetime cuddling these abs, and you want them to crush you from the other side.”

He grinned at her as if she were the pet and he were the owner, sending a chill through her marrow before grabbing her head and shoving it into his gut.

“You want to feel my muscles squeeze you from all around, squishing you into paste and pushing your gooey remains through my intestines. You want to swim around in the bloody chyme I made from the wingull, and mingle with his crushed bones. You want to be sacrificed for my pleasure. You want to hear me panting as I masturbate to your futile squirming. You want to feel my tummy clench around you as I growl in climax. As you melt away in total darkness, you want to hear my cum splatter against the walls of your home. Or would you prefer it if I sucked myself off, and gulped all that nasty nut right onto your head? You want to die in a pool of my semen and stomach acid, just to be converted to a lump of shit in my colon, and perhaps a barely-noticeable layer of belly fat. Your legacy on this earth will have been giving me a marginally juicier ass. You rescued me from drowning just to treat me to an agonizing death in your belly, you fell in love with me, and now you want my revenge. You want to feel my teeth crush you to mince with righteous fury.”

Gwrooooooowrg…

“Fortunately, that’s exactly what I want to do to you. But I’d rather play with my food a little more first.”

He stood up with one foot by her head and one by her tail, giving her full view of his tantalizing erection and enormous balls.

“Either you show my cock a good time and get to painlessly suffocate to death in my stomach, or you refuse and I’ll chew you up from tail to head. Slowly. This’ll be the last time you ever pleasure a man, so make it count.” The fox finished off his monologue with a deep, heavy URRRRRRRRRRRP.
Victor had worked the dragalge’s sexual appetite back up by that point. She felt an irrepressible urge to pleasure him, so she wrapped a fin around the base of his shaft. This time, she wanted to do the work. She felt him shiver in excitement as she made him fully firm. She slithered into a more comfortable position, positioning her snout just below his belly. If everything went as planned, he would soon blast her head and chest with a point-blank spurt of hot seed. She may have been a natural at sucking dick, but she had never given a handjob (finjob?) before and found herself too slow and clumsy for the task.

“Here,” offered Victor, “let me help you out.”

He wrapped her hand around the base of his erection and guided her up the stiff shaft, demonstrating the technique with which he wanted her to stroke him.

“Pretend I splattered some crazy glue on my cock, and you’re trying to sand it off. Remember to squeeze me tight, so I can actually feel it. Don’t be afraid to hit my ballsack when sliding your fins towards me, that only makes it better. Don’t hold back at all, don’t be afraid. Your hands are too soft and slippery to hurt me. ”

The dragalge followed his advice, and the results spoke for themselves. Victor blushed cherry red under his fur, emitting a grunt of joy as the first drop of pre left his boner.

“That’s how you do it right! Brace yourself, I think it’s time to speed up.”

He gripped her fin tight against his dick and slid it up and down the rod at breakneck pace. The dragalge was a lot more slippery than Victor’s hands, allowing him to rub faster than he could have done alone.

“Now you’re getting the hang of it!”

He gradually loosened his grip on the dragalge. By the time he took his hand away, she could barely feel it. She kept running her fins up and down his greasy shaft with ludicrous speed, squeezing it with all her might. 

“You’re doing great, Keep it up!”

Her desire to pleasure him increased as she felt him grow bigger, harder, and hotter between her fins. With a little more persistence, she brought Victor to the next level of arousal, and was rewarded with another gush of precum from the tip of his cock. She slathered it all over his throbbing equipment, but it just kept coming. His balls were soaked too by that time, and the clear fluid had flowed all the way to her shoulders.

He whimpered from the dragalge’s constricting grasp, nearing orgasm. He was panting too hard to say much, but managed to squeeze out a measure of honest praise between breaths.

“Gosh, you learn fast! That’s how you jack a man off!”

This little bit of encouragement from Victor went a long way, driving the dragalge to finish him off. She squeezed harder and pumped quicker, making him pant deeper and blush redder. She could feel him heating up as his muscles went totally tense and his body quaked in pleasure. She could tell he was on the verge of climax. Victor shouted: a jet of cum shot from the tip of his cock in a straight line, spattering against her forehead and getting in her eyes. Its pressure decreased over time, soaking her snout and neck before dripping down onto her chest. She greedily lapped it up, slurping away every last drop from her head to her belly. Still far from satisfied, she locked her lips around his softening cock and savored the residue. She forced more of his semen out with her fins, sucking it in as if she were dying of thirst. She wrapped both fins around the very bottom of his phallus, and pushed the last of its contents into her mouth with one final pump. He held it steady and squeezed it with his own hands, making sure his partner received absolutely everything he had to offer. She kept hanging on after he stood up, keeping herself attached to it by suction alone.

“Glad you like it,” said Victor, never having encountered a woman that found his batter so delicious. She looked up at him with pleading eyes, longing for cum he no longer had. He only hoped his flesh and fur would taste as good to her.

The dragalge disengaged after a few more seconds, rolled onto her side, and posessively gazed upon Victor’s nude form, wondering what to do next with her new favorite toy.

“Don’t forget, that was only an appetizer! The main course,” he said, showing off as much of his body as he could with a slow 360, “is waiting right here.”

To be continued..?