Cream Of the Caverns


Written by Septia


Yvenne let her head be cradled by the rock formation behind her. Her hair laid matte with residue and mildew left to ruminate in the cavern, a sign that even this far up the presence of water was common. 
	She drew in a breath, gathering conviction in her words, “I'm gonna die a moron.” The sentiment came from cracked lips in a shattered expression. She could feel it coming.
	The water rose with waves to lick at the heels of her treads. It had flooded faster than she had expected, faster than it should have, according to the charts. 
	Once she realized the exit was blocked, Yvenne had given her all to keep floating. She had scaled the rock to higher ground and taken of swimming to through tunnels. Fleeing as each perch inevitably succumbed to the tide. This was the tallest alcove in the caverns, and the mildew above confirmed her fears; the surface would swallow this as it had the rest, and she no longer had method or will to resist it. 
	Water rose up he Cobalt shining marble, chilling all it touched. Her legs stiffened, depleted of adrenaline to limber her muscles. Gradually this talon of the sea – the tip of a tooth on a beast so impossibly vast – claimed her.


~ 1 ~


-Squllfssh- A scrub of polished taffy peeled past Yvenne's hearing. Eyelids peeling off her blurred vision. She saw the alcove, her throne in the inverted mountain – empty. She was drifting away from it. 
	Confusion caressed her mind, by this point she should have drowned. Or, perhaps this is what drowning was. 
	-Sflflss- -Shwrsshh- A low base thrum emanated from a tendril, sweeping through the surrounding water. She blinked. There it was again. A pillar of limber gelatin, radiating opalescent through its gossamer flesh. Embedded within it laid a network of fractures, oblong roots forking and melding on their journey through the glistening material. -Swwrrstsh- It came again, then another. There were multiple. Three, four? 
	-Chhrrtwwmd- 
	Yvenne had not noticed the churning of the water around her – the splashing and sloshing that had consumed her past few hours – until it snuffed out, all at once. The cave was gone, a granite blackness tinted in cobalt surrounded her. The same hue as the cavern walls, they were inside of them.
	The woosh of sweeping, rotund tube limbs still surrounded her. She twisted, looked down, seeing an array of limbs a meter away, threading forwards through the pitch. Sensation gradually took hold. She felt herself, cradled. Resting on her side. Yvenne peered up, following the curvature of the prismatic limbs… They connected to a top, the shape of a mushroom cap sculpted in jelly, clasping around in a supple cream texture. This matched the hue of the veins drawn through the tentacles, only without its clutches, it shone in an all purer chroma. 
	“Wh-who?” Yvenne mumbled. 
	The movement halted. Limbs planted as the he'd turn faced her. It had, sentient features: a forehead bulbous were it not contained under the cap and lacking nostrils caught her attention, in the otherwise familiar sight. 
	Two fluid pearls for its eyeball, at least three pupils in each bent to stare at Yvenne. Its mouth shrunk, then wobbled to a smile. “Yh-yay. You… conscious.” 
	The creature hoisted her up from the sidelong cradle letting Yvenne sit back on its arm. Yvenne’s sight passed by the cream body: at its tail end it fading out into clouds that wisped into nothing, yet the higher up her eyes went, the further definition the supple texture with no legs and lap still a faint ooze. It was first at the mid abdomen their body looked proper, a bust resting onto it. Above that the milky flesh contracted, curved in a crescent arched back to meet their head. This gave the impression of a neck from the front, but as they turned the illusion of a free floating head. 
	“Glad,” it said – perhaps she – holding their smile whilst teach eyes shifted to survey the human, their motions criss-crossing one another in independent strokes. “Safe? Scared?” It wondered. 
	“C-confuse,” Yvenne mumbled in response. 
	“Yes, perilous it really was.” The tendrils sprouting from their cap like a petals bent and accustomed to their head's bobs.
	“But you, saved me?”
	“Hmmr…” the creature spun. 
	“I just, can't believe it. I thought a was a goner. S-so, w-who are you? my name is y-.” 
	Yvenne's mouth sealed shut, the creature hoisted a white arm to plug her mouth, so fast she hadn't seen it raised. 
	“Spare names, please? Hard enough as already is.” 
	Yvenne nodded. The pale arm flowed back, shifting as a viscous liquid till it returned solid. The hand landed on its chest. “Galatile,” they said and gestured back to Yvenne, “you perished.” 
	The woman's eyes widened. “But I am, not dead yet?” 
	Galatile nodded. “But, dead to world. Drowned in cave, pecked by fish and nibbled slugs, so none remain to find.” 
	“Why did you… take me, then?”
	The smile on the creature shrunk, it clutched onto his frame pupils swimming in the liquid eye. It avoided eye contact, peering around in the rock. Until, it lets its vision rest back on the woman in its grasp. 
	“We, have the same needs, like fish, like slug. Apologies.” 
	“You, eat people?” my words stale pre delivery, the excitement from the rescue fading. 
	Galatile nodded, holding up a palm. “Only, ones, you. Those, who are to perish. That is, all we… nourish ourselves with. Do accept my apologies, you understand the situation I am in, certainly?” 
	Yvenne blinked, a palm reaching up to scrub over her face. The speaking mannerisms of Galatile warped so, elegantly. But, out of nowhere. 
	“How'd you. Talk like that?” 
	This made their smile chest bobbing in a chuckle. “You may just grasp the meaning of my words. It pleases me to have this chance to speak.” They eyes twitched as they expressed this, unnerved in their own sockets.
	“Before you…?” 
	Galatile nodded. “Yes.”


Yvenne was given time, resting against Galatile. She kept her eyes closed. The tendrils supporting the creature played up the iconography of prison bars. And yet, she was comfortable. Eventually, she nodded. “Think I understand. And, I don't think I mind it.” When she opened her eyes, Galatile’s lips were smiling, though their eyes slanted away from that emotion. 
	Two tendrils coiled towards Yvenne, hoisting her legs up to her chest, brushing off her coat, smoothing her shirt underneath and plucking off her shoes. The pale cream hands moving in tandem, holding the woman's legs comfortable, bundled together as each layer peeled off. 
	“Will you show resistance?” Galatile whispered, the question caressed Yvenne's cheek and curling down her ear. 
	Yvenne shook her head. She had resigned herself back in the cave. 
	“Are you sure?” they asked, reeling Yvenne's body closer. Yvenne's cheeks bumped into the milky breasts, -Bwwbnnssh- the bosom bounced and swelled, inflating beneath her, floating up to cradle her cheeks. It swathed over her soles and cheeks, the wedge between the mounds cleaving, and with the grace of molten cheese, they molded to accommodate her contours, drawn back into the confines of the luscious entity. 
	Yvenne's teeth jabbed into her lip. The texture engulfing her was supple; diving into a marshmallow injected to  bloated gelato to saturate the sticky texture. And still, the walls underneath radiated warmth, enveloping her in a tepid blanket. 
	“Unless you want me too, I won't move.” 
	Galatile shook their head. “Oh certainly, t-that is not necessary. Already, this is asking a lot of you.” 
	“Giving up my body?” she asked. -Shcttps- The cleavage chewed in on her, budding up to massage and masticate the pillowy mounds into her thighs as they submerged into the bulbous embrace. 
	“Yes, a-apologies again, it won’t take lo-.” 
	“Giving up a dead girls corpse, seems insignificant, doesn't it?” Yvenne asked, “I was already dead, right?” 
	-Chrlrstsh- The chest squashed and squealed against her, the creamy texture polishing over her elbows as they enveloped in the vanilla pudge, Galatile's abdomen below growing defined with a budding white mound, all as Yvenne sunk. Their palms unleashed her, and cupped their own chest, kneading them up against the woman, -Chhrpsgs- -Bwcggllrs- a broiling chug – as if injecting air into a glass of milk – quaking below. 
	“Despite you being alive for, for the moment. And you have a gorgeous body.” 
	Yvenne smiled. “Would you like if I struggled?” 
	Galatile paused. 
	“Does it feel nice, having someone's, last resistance, before their final reprieve?” 
	Still, there came nothing from Galatile. 
	Yvenne peeked up. A pale, saffron yellow lustre painting their cheeks. 
	Yvenne smiled. -Chrlrlsptsh- Her breast were surpassed, entombed by the mounds of sluggish living cream kneading into her. “Come on, don't be like that, I'll squirm some for you.” 
	“My apologies,” Galatile mumbled. 
	“I want to be the best I can, be it diver, architect, actor,” she peeked up again, the walls of alabaster blubber -Chhstosh-. It bulldozed over her chest and sloughed atop her shoulders, jiggling under their own weight as the pressure drove her through the canyon of cleavage into the engorging confines of the silken stomach. “Or, if I am lunch.” 
	“Sorry…” Galatile panted softly. The tentacles sprouting from their cap contracting, drawing closer, budding them. Their arms cradled their chest, hugging into the mounds to slog over the woman clenched within -Ghrrslgs-. The higher abdomen inflated and stretched along Yvenne's curvature. 
	-Grbrbglgs- The gut churned in the depths. Each swallow immersing Yvenne into the protectorate the pinched pillows of plumpness. Their face framed in the by thin the clutches, gradually percolating its pudge over her cheeks. 
	“Something like this?” Yvenne, wondered.  -Kwwpng- -Bwhhgts- Protrusions swelled up on the doming gut, faint dents of her toes seen at the top of the bulges as she bent and wring her soles around the tummy. The struggles morphed a weightless pantomime across the pliant surface. Shadows cast from the struggle jittering as quivers trailed up the porous creature’s spine.
	“Mmm,” Galatile hummed. 
	“Am I, tasty?” 
	Galatile inhaled, fingers caressing along the buffed chest, teasing down the pliable texture of her bulges. “Yes, you are. The sweetest thing I have dined upon, for many moons.” 
	Yvenne felt her face ruminated by the jiggling mounds of breast fat, plying over her forehead. 
	“Thank you.” 
	Galatile blinked. “Why, Would you? Thank me?” 
	“For saving me.” 
	Galatile's lips scrunched, their eyes pupils sloping down. “You won't get out of this. You will churn, melt and whip into custard, your fair form, lost in mine while you dilute and mold into soft clay.” 
	“I understand,” Yvenne said, catching Galatile off guard, “but you saved me from drowning. 
	-Chrlrlsptshs- Galatile instinctively hugged into their chest -BWbnngwp- the blubber engulfing Yvenne's face, Galatile huffing softly, yellow fluster soaking through their face, leaking like marbling as their breasts deflated. 
	Lumps siphoned through to -Cbbrwngpsn- engorge their gut, feeling it billow out beneath their, to a glistening orb dune of creamy meat, its outlines hazy the further down. The sack dipped and jostled on their frame. thought he contours of the girl remained defined as she bobbed to and fro -Shgllgs- -Chghrllbs-. It churned, concaving broad bloats blooming up the stomach, snailing along the diluting frame until it slumped back into the confines embrace Galatile's core.
	“Mfms, ms…” they hummed, shivering in faint musings as they slumped back, bobbing and rubbing along their distended, smoothed frame, letting two tendrils curved back to an 'S' for their wispy body to sink into. Their remaining tentacles glowing, their network of creamy veins withdrawing, and soon after it the gossamer jelly followed suit, reeling back into lumps resting on Galatile's cap, as they coiled their arms around their gut, quivering and mumbling apologies, that over time faded further and further into moans as the food struggled, massaging the belly as liquid digestion ate away at her form. 


Another creature, matching Galatile saw their return. It narrowing its oval eyes, their ear hatches breathing at annoyed intervals, and their sharp shoulder ready to spear the next thing that upset them. 
	“Did you find her?” 
	“Mmm,” Galatile nodded, clutching their bosom. -Bhrrusrslpp- a rumble of fumes bubbled up between the fatty globs. Galatile shuddered and crossing their arms over their chest, exposing the pudgy lump of a gut hanging below. Still rippling and -Chhrlgs- swirling some plush groans from within. 
	“It too you so long.” 
	Galatile turned away. “You know I am. weak to when they…,” they grasped a fluid palm into their gut, folding up dollops of pudgy between their digits, “when they squirm for me…” 


~ 2 ~


“Mfmms… mm…” Gala tile hummed, letting their hind dip down a cavity in the mountain. -Shhrrlgpthhgsgs- Creaking folds filled the space as the loaves of pudgy, saffron gelato billowed from their hazy hind. -Chrrlpstshts- The congealing cream smoothed from the pit steamy pit buffering their texture shining -Chhrslgptsh- and daubed their frame down into the growing mound of Yvenne goo in the deposit. -Chhrr-csthothts- The globules melded into one another, being and stirring with their tangled shapes compressing the bile beneath them, a lukewarm putty that oozed of sea brine and the a tart pinch of vanilla. Galatile massaged their stomach, sinking fingers into their gut a dragging them across to feel the sloppy pudge flatten within the wake of the groves from their digits. 
	“I really, gmms, wish it could have been another way, I am s-sorry to embezzle your body f-for my own needs,” they sighed out between moans, their gelato chute clogged as it -Spprlrths- buttered around a clump of pristine, scintillant soft serve. 
	“Y-you feel gmf… good. Yet, filling me taut. I am sad mfs, to see you go, yetmfm, I love churning you out of my cream buns,” they sighed.
	The loaf -Hrfccrlrspts- detached, hauling out into the put and -Shtwhtch- sinking into the growing nest of melting resin dough. Their bowels pumping through the fattened globs of all the refuse remaining from drowned woman. -Schrllrs-Ckrsts- Putty warped and cratered in against the oncoming bales, solid buttery gunk plying through the heap and stuffing it out, forming the bales of balm to rolling dunes. -Sghwwhts- The coagulated lotion molding flat to the rocky walls, smothering the cavity in the batch of viscous banana gelato. 
	“S-…” they mumbled, cupping their rear as a few -Shwbs- clogs piled out through their brim, decorating the final rotund coil in strands of melting wax. 
	“So-…,” they mumbled again. -Cgrhrsts- A fat clump snaked its way through their brim, and curled to and through in lops to decorate the head swirl, leaving them rasping out a soft sigh with the tail of the goo -Swplths- plotted into the pile. 
	“… Thank you,” Galatile expressed, “for saving me.” For a moment Gala tile regretted not learning the woman's name, though, if they knew, they would be unable to walk away, with such a clear conscience, and cream factory. So they parted, neither party knowing the other’s name…


Steam oozed from the Yvenne soft serve sludge, polluting the lone cavity in the mountain with rising ooze of vanilla and botched sugary omelets. From a. this far in through solid stone, few could ever reach it. Few, would ever notice, how the coil bands and lengths of clotted cream, formed the contours of a body; the body of a female in rest, hair draped over her face. Snoozing, cozy, at peace.