Spider And Butterfly (NSFW)

Spider and Butterfly (NSFW)

Warning: This work contains: A pred who exists in multiple states simultaneously, implied willing vore, implied fatal, implied digestion, implications of people being eaten in the past, magic and strange rules attached to that magic, some sexual situations. That aren't described in enough detail cause I am bad at it. Implied M/F vore, mentions of past instances of M/? Vore, If you like the Poem: The Spider and the Fly. You will likely see many similarities with this draft, if you have read that one source book for Changeling: The Lost that describes how someone should think of the True Fae as being both their kingdom and the actors within it. You probably know where I got the concept for the Pred existing in multiple states. If you have arachnophobia I'd strongly suggest NOT reading this draft as some of the imagery used may prove triggering. "Can I eat you Ida?" He asks softly, searching her eyes imploringly. "Would you allow me, the pleasure of unleashing my true self upon you? Of swallowing you whole and relishing your futile squirms as my stomach demonstrates just where we both know you belong?" She regards him attentively, considering him without disgust or fear, waiting for him to get to the point. So he continues. "Are you content with this mask I wear to lure prey in? Or could you accept the monster that lurks beneath?" Ida frowns at him thoughtfully and perhaps a little quizzically, it was an often unspoken but well acknowledged fact, that this body and his polite and genial personality were a lure. That at the heart his manor, lay his true self and the manor existed to ferry by trickery and fear those unfortunate souls who found it, towards his parlour door. Ida knew this, she was canny and had survived much longer than many of his "guests", to her this place was almost a true home, the shelter in the storm it appeared to be and Bastion was not a stranger, though he would always be an adversary, he was also something like a friend and when she allowed it something more. He longed to claim her, this mortal, who understood so well the rules of his domain, who understood if she disappeared into his parlour she would never be seen again. His stomach and heart equally ached at the thought of her leaving him, of her crossing outside the threshold of the manor one day and never returning. Of becoming the meal of a different monster when she left to forage for food, stubbornly and wisely unwilling to accept any food he offered her. Beneath the veneer of civility, the monster Bastion actually was, had become frustrated, not because prey might escape him, but because Ida might escape him, might go somewhere he couldn't follow and meet some fate he couldn't know. Hungry and alien as he was,he could think of no other solution, than to eat her himself, but none of his tricks phased her and so he was reduced to begging. She reached up and caressed his face, "Why do you look so saddened?" She asks, he holds the hand against his cheek, this is not his true body, but he treasures the touch all the same. "I do not wish to lose you" He confesses quietly. "I could so easily lose you, I cannot claim you on my own, I've tried so often, to close my jaws around you and drag you bodily into my web" He shakes his head at her suspicious expression, trying to convey that this is not another ploy merely a confession. "You know me too well my love, the longer you stay here, the hungrier I become for you." She crosses her arms "I'm not going to stop warning people to leave Bastion" She tells him her voice firm and resolute. He holds his hands up placatingly and shakes his head emphatically. "No, no, that is not what I meant, it is not that I am not fed, I do not mean to belittle your efforts, in defending other mortals, but many do not heed your warnings, or assume that you are on my side. No, it is not that I am starving for food, it is that I am starving for you, and you alone." He presses his forehead to hers. How he wishes he could touch her like this as his true self. The familiar suspicion in her eyes, is not as harsh as it once was long ago, it is more exasperated, less passionate, she does not trust him not to try and catch her. But she trusts him to not lie about their odd relationship. She trusts him to mean it when he confesses his hunger like a mortal might confess their undying love. He pushes her down firmly but gently holding her beneath him, wishing he could have her like this as he truly is. "Please" he implores "I need you, I want you, I yearn for you. Please, willingly come to me, please do not fear me, let me touch you, let me hold you, let me make love to you and then let me devour you and spit out your bones" He speaks it like poetry, like a lover asking to marry their beloved. Because for him it is. She has to understand that, she must know that, he has to make her see, that for him this is love, for him this is adoration.   "Bastion" She says his name with a unique blend of exasperation and warmth. "I love you, it hurts me to see you so forlorn, But, you're asking me to die for you." "No my love" He denies, pressing his lips against the side of her neck. "I'm asking you to succumb to me, in body, in soul, in mind and in heart. Death is part of what I ask,but if you understood, it would not be fear of death alone that motivated your rejection. Even so, I beg of you, come into my jaws, I want you." He trailed spidery kisses along her body, she arched into him and he imagined her doing the same when his teeth were sharp and his mandibles were exposed. The trust, the attraction, the love but directed at the monster who would gobble her up without remorse. His stomach growled, the human one and the one inside his true body, the manor creaked in sympathy, a reflection of its masters longing. She was so beautiful and delicate, a butterfly he could never seem to pin, he longed to wrap her in his silk, to feast on her blood,to hear her call his name in a mix of fear and ecstasy, to have her understand what she'd done to him, have her experience it from the inside, have her understand how deep and twisted his hunger for her was, but also how wonderful, how unique, how special she was to him. She looks up at him and he feels as though she sees him, the real him, not the human host of the manor, nor the walls that surround them, but the spider at the center of this web. An eyebrow is arched at him, the look in her eyes is almost playful. "And? If I did give myself to you, how would you start your meal?" He stares at her surprised by her boldness, though perhaps he shouldn't be, how indeed? His grip on her tightens, he considers it. "At first I think, I'd just want to revel in the fact you were mine. In the fact the parlour door had locked behind you the second you stepped inside, in the fact you were before me, after so long seeing and experiencing you only through proxies." He bends and moves backwards as he speaks, lips gently trailing exposed skin as he travels lower and lower. "I would play with you, try to frighten you, test your resolve now you were before me, whether you became fearful or resolute, I would savour your responses to me, for though we have known each other for so long, I have never truly met you, nor you me." He spreads her legs apart and gently removes the white lace between him and his goal. Her breath catches as he trails kisses along her thighs, teasing and tantalizing with possibility before his tongue descends onto the soft folds of flesh below. She shudders and whines needily as he toys with and tastes her. Insistently and greedily he explores, until finally she finds it too much and comes for him. He pulls away and licks his lips playfully making sure she sees. He thinks about swallowing up the woman in front of him. He's undecided on if he would start at the head or the feet. But he knows either way he would be sure to taste between her legs thoroughly. He tells her so and she rolls her eyes at him, but he can tell she's pleased by the picture he paints, even if she's reluctant to give herself to him in reality. The possibility of convincing her to let him have her thrills him, the thought of having her knock upon the door to his true self willingly. He pictures it, her standing in front of his door, nervous but anticipating, unsure of what the monster beyond is truly like but generous enough to offer herself to him, Jittery like a bride about to meet her groom at the alter. Or a blood sacrifice about to die in an Aztec temple. She pulls him back towards her and touches the tip of his nose chidingly, no doubt able to tell he's thinking something devious about her. He snaps at the finger playfully, she shrieks and pushes on his chest with a pout. He grins and continues to answer her question. "I'd swallow you up, slowly and carefully at first, but soon my need for you would become too much, I'd begin wolfing you down, shoving you in, needily, licking and sucking and swallowing, until every last bit of you was sealed away within me. Only then would I allow myself to feel some modicum of relief, some shred of satisfaction." He nuzzled her affectionately. "Once you were within me, I'd be in awe, the lingering taste of you on my tongue, the way you're beautiful body stretched and filled my stomach to its limits, I'd be amazed at how good you were and how good you were still being. Cherishing the knowledge that after waiting for so long, you were finally mine to savour, mine to love, mine to keep. You'd be afraid, how could you not be? We both know what I am and what I intend. But even so when I speak to you, you'd find yourself calming down, trusting me, accepting that although this was going to kill you, you would find yourself no less in love with me and no less sure of my own love" "Bastion" The look in her eyes is awed by his confession, she is attracted to the danger in him, she always has been, but has she ever truly understood how intertwined his hunger for her is with his affection? He's spoken of it before but perhaps she's never truly comprehended. He continues determined to make her glimpse the world as he does. "When digestion starts, your fear returns, but even as I lose myself in the all encompassing pleasure of my body conquering yours. I still find time to tell you, that you are cherished, that you are loved. Your struggles intensify, you can't help it, my stomach is overwhelming, it's love for you has no limits or boundaries. Though you are so much more to me than a mere meal, in this movement, I am the eater and you are the eaten. I come in time with your death throes and as you succumb to me, I feel your soul relax and surrender willingly, trustingly to mine. Now, we are one, we are complete and there is nothing more to fear." She looks at him with longing of her own, for the first time he can tell that she's actually considering it. Was it truly so simple? Had he just needed to be honest with her? About what his hunger for her actually was? She intertwines her hands with his and draws in a shuddering breath, she looks at him seriously and asks "If I did say yes, would you truly still love me?" Of course he would! it confuses him that she would even need to ask. But then again, he has come to understand the young woman before him, just as she has come to understand him. Ida flirts with death and danger, quite literally in fact. She has willingly made her home in his hunting grounds, despite knowing all too well that is what they are. Is her fear of entering his parlour truly motivated by literal self-preservation? Or is it a more personal kind of loss? He squeezes her hands comfortingly and asks what to him seems a very simple question. "Why would I ever stop?" Tears fall from her eyes and he wipes them for her gently. It takes a little while for her to collect her self but eventually she sucks in a breath and exhales it gathering up the scattered pieces of herself to continue their conversation. "I want to be yours Bastion" She admits quietly, "But!" She holds up a hand before he can say anything. "I-I can't walk up to that door alone. I know you aren't allowed to take me across the threshold like this, but, could you walk me towards it? And the you on the other side of the door, I know you can drag people in if they get close enough, even if you can't actually leave. If you offer me your hand, I'll take it." He feels his heart sore, the true him in the parlour reflexively swallows the drool pooling into his mouth, the manor seems to brighten and calm shadows less long, walls less worn. He embraces her gratefully, She's so beautiful, so wonderful, she does not deserve to meet her end inside his true self's belly. But she's going to and oh how he's going to make her feel his gratitude for it. The him in the parlour, gets to work, fangs ache and chelicerae twitch, as venom is prepared, a venom infused with his endless gratitude towards the young woman who will soon come to him.Shaped by his desire for her, it is something that will ensure she enjoys what is to come as much as he will. He dearly hopes she recognizes his gift for what it is.

Okay back to your regularly scheduled vore talk. You know the character I’ve been using in my recent snippets is kinda my ideal when it comes to Preds. Bastion knows damn well he’s a monster, he also has precisely zero idea how to be anything else. If he didn’t have all these rules governing his existence Ida would have been gobbled up day one. But because he does have rules it allows for the illusion of restraint. Bastion is essentially a tiger pacing in a cage. But he knows that’s what he is and because of his attachment to Ida he tries to use the restraints put on him to his advantage. To be with her in ways he otherwise couldn’t even as he tries again and again to catch her. He’s essentially gaming his own nature in order to spend more time with her. He can’t not want to catch her but he can stall with the best of them and stall he does. Until he cannot find it within himself to stall any longer.

Speaking of writing troubles, whenever I get a new notebook I always say I’m going to put a serious story in it and then I just end up filling it with vore. It’s a serious problem. To the point where if I want to show someone something in a notebook I desperately try to cover any page but the page that does not have vore.

Eh? But doesn’t Halsey sing songs about being unable to trust herself not about distrusting others? Unless there’s a Halsey song entitled Spider and the Fly in which case she has good taste in poetry.

If my last draft post didn’t explicitly spell it out. I love the Spider and the Fly dynamic in vore. What I mean by that is I love Preds that can’t get to a prey unless they cross certain boundaries first and who slowly wear down a prey psychologically not with threats or meanness but with pure unadulterated charm and affection. Especially if it’s entirely sincere but entirely deadly regardless. There’s just something about a creature that can’t go against its nature to the point it doesn’t know how to not kill you, only how to lure you in with honey rather than vinegar. Also the tragedy of a prey who’s so used to being treated badly that there’s something almost comforting to them about knowing damn well that no matter how nice the pred is they’re ultimately still dangerous. Like the prey is so broken they can only accept the niceties because they know it’s coming from something unapologetically dangerous.

This probably says something about my own trust issues to be honest. But let’s not analyse that too much.

“Were I not incapable of mercy, I would grant it to you in a heartbeat”

So I make one clearly labeled not safe for work post and suddenly, there are E-girls in my inbox advertising their stuff. I realise it’s likely a bot but if whoever’s responsible for the algorithm on these things could pull up a chair for a second I would like to clarify something: You comfy? Settled in? Ready for anything? Yeah? Good good…Ahem, Just because I can (debatably) write about orgasm while hobbling along on the crutch that is a fatal vore fetish to get horny. Does not mean I am interested in live action porn. People who are interested in live action porn can follow my blog if they want I guess. I suspect they’ll be disappointed by it given its a niche fetish blog with a distinct lack of live action content and the writer of said blog has only really heard of sex in passing and only utilises it in her writing (badly) sometimes. But ya’ll need to wear a bell or something cause I did not anticipate just writing smut would connect me to full on live action blowjobs this easily. Is this another Tumblr social more I don’t understand?