Afternoon Delight - The first in the Slug Series by IreneDelacorte

[center][size=14pt]Afternoon Delight[/size][color=black][/color] By Irene Delacorte[/center]

I could feel every motion, feel the slime coating me, digesting and lubricating. 

As my feet disappear within the maw of the rounded body I reach down and lift the slime, rubbing it on my thighs, lubricating myself for the passage that awaits me.

 I measure time in inches, watching the slow sinuous movement of the maw

opening and sucking, closing and holding, each time more slime moving on my body. I lay back and arch my body, supported by the slug, now holding my knees, my shoulders on the slimed floor.

 The movement, my arching, causes a slight increase in movement and my thighs feel the sucking mouth. The saliva glands exude more of the gooey substance, hands at my thighs I take the handfuls of the saliva and rub my pussy, coating it, moving my hand within, the effect brings an ecstasy as the substance burns, lubricates and excites me. 

 I look up and see this horrid creature, this giant slug, a garden pest ingesting me slowly, inch by beautiful inch. The slowness serving to excite me further, allowing

me to experience my death in slow movements. My pussy, approaches the maw, stretching to accommodate my ass, I continue my slow massage and feel another Orgasm release me into heights unknown; I rock and thrust wanting the sensation to never stop.

 My mound disappears within, my fingers still stroking now locked within the 

cold animal, this unknowing animal, intent on me for its meal. My legs can feel the peristaltic movement of the throat, the slow rippling of the throat muscles pulling me slowly, ever so slowly into its stomach. I don't resist, I can't resist, I'm consumed with my consumption.

 Hips move within the great slug, the mouth contracting with their passage.

The sucking and the saliva spurts continue, flowing from the maw to ease the passage. Hours pass as my belly and ribs slowly descend into its body, my feet now burning, on fire, my legs still shaking as I now continuously stay at a plateau of pleasure I'd never known existed. My breasts are moved upward as the maw closes on the sensitive skin on the lower side. The movement slows as they suddenly slip in with a sucking sound my nipples like stones rubbed by the lips of the entrance.

 Crazed with the passion of my body, I hear the phone ring. My recorded message answers and the caller leaves a message. I listen knowing it will be the last words I ever hear. “Hi sweety, this is Mark, I'll be home late tonight, sorry I'll miss dinner, call

you when I leave.” click… I look at the clock; he would have been home in 30 minutes wonder what he would have done, would he see me before I slipped completely away, would he have watched, pulled me out, or pushed me in.

 Expanding again, the maw moves over my shoulders and approaches my face. The saliva fills my mouth as I gasp, my chest constricted by the throat muscles, I swallow

but more and more spurts from the glands and covers my mouth, my nose, and my eyes.

 Within a final suck the maw draws me in completely, through slime covered eyes 

I see the maw closing, the throat pulling me, the translucent body admits light that lets me see the walls dripping and pulling me into its stomach.

 I pass within, now fully in the acid filled sack; I curl and shape myself to the small tight compartment, as the opening closes I can tell there is not much more

time for me, a last orgasm strikes me, greater than all the others a final gift of the slug as my curled body expires.

 The slug, exhausted itself, the sweet body within now still responds to the

sense of fullness. Slowly it turns to the door and starts its slow movement back to the garden its meal had tended so carefully.

Another “Present” for my friends, I hope I met your desires; writing is so intense for me I can actually experience what I write feel it happening to me as I describe it to you. I have been eaten, I am inside…

Your deliciously sweet slug chow

Your Irene

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Irene – I'm new here and just starting to explore and I came across your slug story, if you can even call it a “story.” It's more of an experience, a happening we would have said back in the day. Anyway, whether or not you intended this, it reminded me of an “anti-birth” if that's the right term. Whet you detailed as a entering kind of experience reminded me of the opposite exiting kind of one.

Although we are much too young to remember I would guess that as we are born we experinece some sort of intense pleasure (a kind of repeated orgasm) on entering the world just as you described leaving this world.

Finally, I appreciate your economy of words – short and sweet – which has always been my goal too. Thanks for the wonderful read. Gran

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You know what? “Unbirth” is as good as “Antibirth” but neither of them says exactly what I was feeling. I suppose we tend to think of “dying” as the opposite of “being born” but that's not what I was feeling when I read the piece. It's actually very interesting because I can't think of what to call it but it is the process that's exactly the opposite of being born. Make sense?

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T'Sade and Granprinciple,

  Though in the past I've written “Unbirthing” stories, in the third person, this first person account was more of a giving of myself to another entity.

  It was written in about 30 minutes, a daydream on paper, polished for an hour then posted. To me it was a clean image, a picture in words, not a story. To be sure, a very seductive image of a woman's intense feelings.

  It lead me to “Evening Submission” which is a story, and now “Morning Surprise” which I shall finish this weekend, next is the last of the four, it's not titled yet.

  These were done at the request of a person who has a “Slug” fetish, but could have been written using most non- toothed pred.

  I'll keep posting them, enjoy, I hope..

        Irene

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I think what I'm getting at is much closer to what you're talking about than becoming something else. Exploring this whole “insert into vagina” thing has so many possibilities. The “slug” piece seemed to explore that but with all the trappings of being born – contractions, pushing, etc. with the added element of pleasure which we so often associate with vagina insertions bit not necessarily with being born.

This piece, and so many others on your site, explores the ultimate in surrendering one's being to another. It's a lot more than being bound, or being spanked into humiliation, or gagged and blindfolded into submission. It explores the entire consumption of one entity by another and it's fascinating since I have not investigated these realms at all until now.

Gran

[quote author=t'Sade link=topic=236.msg397#msg397 date=1134760775] I think I understand, it has some threads in common with another member's interest, the process of becoming something else, such as the earth, a greater force, or even nothing. I've called it unbirth which has specific connatations (insert into vagina) but I think you are talking about the idea of becoming one with something or becoming something greater (or different) that what you were.

Is that closer? [/quote]

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Great story Irene. I really enjoyed the experiences you had as you were ingested. I kind of wish I was there to watch and hear your moans. The story was beautiful.

Take care. Jason