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Rated: 18+ · Chapter · Erotica · #2044979
Continuation of Anchoret the Pict's story and her assault on the village of Y’gotanaoi.
Morgan huddled in the back corner of her cottage. She did her best to disguise her fear, but a single look past her long ebon hair and unto her tautly drawn face and quivering lip spelt terror. In each arm, she clutched one of her children tightly to her slender linen-clad body; her right hand held her five year old daughter, Lihhne, and her left her four year old boy, Angus. She had heard the sounds from outside; battle cries preceded a song of steel and gore for a short while, before silence once more reigned. Morgan listened to the shallow breaths of her children and the pounding of her own heart before she heard it happen. A series of loud gulping noises punctuated by a deep belch played to her ears as a cacophony of fleeing men accompanied the inaudible sound of her heart dropping.
What that frenzied shepherd’s wife had said was true; she had ran to the village from her family’s pasture some three miles away, frantically describing a giant woman that had swallowed their entire flock whole before eating her husband as well. The Eater of Men had come for Y’gotanaoi. Hastily, the unofficial leader of the village, a fifty three year old brown haired man by the name of Ceretic, had all the capable men of the village gather weapons and prepare to ambush her when she arrived, even fierce little orange haired Panuch made ready to defend her home. But now, they were all dead, or fleeing, or digesting. Morgan fought it as hard as she could, but the tears came with a soft sob regardless.

“Mommy,” little black haired Lihhne started with a soft voice full of innocence, “Is she going to eat us?”

Morgan struggled harder and harder against her tears, but they only came in greater force as she looked into her daughter’s face. She didn’t look afraid, only discontent, or perhaps acceptance, was shown on her small, round face. “She knows we’re going to die,” Morgan thought to herself, “She knows we’re going to be some monster’s meat.” Steeling her voice as best as she could, she spoke.

“No, my sweet, she doesn’t know we’re here.” Morgan croaked in a grieving voice, “And besides, everybody has gone to make the bad person leave.”

“I heard them running away,” Ginger-haired Angus spoke in a soft, apathetic voice, “They ran away from her because she killed everyone.”

The three huddled in silence for a moment before they heard a faint sound from outside. The whisper of jingling chainmail approached them. Angus and Lihhne began to cry into their mother’s breast as Morgan renewed her sobbing.

“Angus, Lihhne,” Morgan initiated as she tried to speak through her uncontrollable crying, holding her children tight, “I want you to know that I love you very much.”

“I love you, mommy.” both children muttered in sniffling voices as they clung tightly to Morgan. Suddenly the plank door flew open at a breakneck speed, the wooden brace on the door shattering into a thousand pieces. She ducked into Morgan’s home. The so named “monster” was as pretty as any woman she had seen before, with sharp features and voluptuous curves. Her crimson hair was the same color as her blood splattered arms. The Wrecker’s legs were long and the size of tree trunks, their peach skin exposed, saved for a chainmail woven skirt of leather that extended halfway down her thighs. The same chainmail-interwoven leather design covered her torso, save for her exposed midsection. Her icy blue gaze met Morgan’s own. The two locked eyes in silence for a moment before a gurgle came from her unclothed naval.

“Please… don’t…” Morgan sobbed as the woman strode towards her. Reaching the family in the blink of an eye, she reached down and grabbed Angus by his arm. With minimal effort, she plucked him from his mother’s grip. “NO!” Morgan yelled as she grabbed for her son, but the giant before her swung a ham sized fist into her face. Morgan stumbled backwards as most of her teeth clattered from mouth onto the ground. “Mommy!” Angus yelled as Morgan fell against the wall, blood streaming from her mouth. Through blurry eyes, she watched in paralyzed terror as the red haired woman brought Angus to her mouth, feet first. The boy slid into her like pushing a stick into mud. Over the next five seconds, the Nephilim subsumed Angus, her head and neck growing around his body, like a snake. Morgan feebly reached a hand out as Angus’ screaming ginger-haired face passed over the woman’s tongue, before disappearing into her throat. She swallowed deeply, and the bulge that was clearly Angus’ head fell further and further, until it disappeared at her gurgling belly. Then, she grabbed Lihhne by the foot. The small girl wrapped herself around her mother’s leg, and Morgan grasped her hand as hard as she could, but the goliath peeled them apart as easily as she would the skin of a turnip. Morgan, sobbing, watched her screaming daughter be engulfed in three successive swallows. Defeated, she slid down the wall, tears streaming from her closed eyes, open mouth singing some soft, inhuman sound of grief.

She didn’t bother to open her eyes when she felt her legs lifted off the ground, and her feet placed into the red haired woman’s warm, wet mouth. Nor did she look when she began to slide along the ground, her legs enveloped in the burning tube that was her assailant’s esophagus. It was only when she felt herself lifted off the ground that Morgan opened her eyes. The woman’s face wasn’t quite as pretty as before, spread nearly two feet wide over her hips. “It’s almost a funny thing to watch.” Morgan mused as the distance between their two heads decreased. She visualized what her and her children would look like as a pile of shit, somewhere along the side of a dirt path through the forest, this woman’s femininely perfect ass perched over their steaming remains. “The plants would grow good around us.” She thought as she was only a foot away from the woman’s maw, her lips spread over her breasts. She imagined the tall grass and yellow flowers that would grow from them, a kind of memorial to them. Then, suddenly she lurched forward, her attacker’s teeth filling her vision. “She has quite bad breath.” Morgan mused as she craned her head backwards to peer out of The Monster’s mouth. She watched curiously as she moved further down the mouth, and suddenly down, as all light, save that coming from the woman’s open throat hole, disappeared. She closed her eyes as thick slime from the walls of the esophagus coated her face. Her squelching descent continued for another moment before she suddenly fell, her dangling legs pulling the rest of her body the rest of the way through. She landed with an “oomph!” on top of what felt like a body. Even in the nearly nonexistent light provided by the still open esophagus that looked to be some ten feet above her, Morgan recognized Panuch’s carrot-orange hair. Quickly wheeling about, Morgan saw her two children off to the side, wrapped around each other, sobbing. A large grin creeped over Morgan’s face as she crawled over to them on the elastic floor of flesh. She wrapped them both tightly in her arms.

“Shh, shh.” She whispered to them. “We’re together. We’re always going to be together.” The children’s sobs quieted as the walls of the stomach began to press on them for a moment, before resuming its standard, pulsating distance. Even from within her, the beautiful sanguine-haired woman’s “Urrrrrppppppp.” was audible as she belched out the air she had engulfed alongside Morgan and her children. The three quietly embraced each other as their bodies began to react to the lack of oxygen. They all began convulsing as their bodies autonomously tried to suck in air that wasn’t there. After thirty painful seconds, their visions began to fade, and at a minute, all three had lost their consciousness, never to regain it. Their corpses were still drawn tightly to each other as they melted into this red haired beauty's body.

“Ur-urraaahh.” Anchoret pettily burped, the last breaths of the mother and her two children finding their way back to the world outside of her. The Abyss in her belly slightly less infinite, she strolled out of the home, and set eyes on another across the path from it. She mentally promised Y’gotanaoi the same fate as the countless other villages before it as she broke open the door with a mighty kick.
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