Page 31 of Fed By Fear

Coffee-colored irises flick from one set of our glowing red eyes to the other. Two faces, one mind, one goal. We are quite formidable like this. Billowing higher, we consume the air until our presence is an ominous wall of darkness.

The sight of us unleashes a new level of fear in Githany. Her scent ladles into our two mouths, a potion of sweet berries and rotting corpses. Our eyes fall shut with the pleasure of it all. There’s darkness in our little Githany’s soul. Such terrible darkness.

We bend lower, both mouths speaking in unison. “Why aren’t you laughing?”

When Githany opens her mouth, only a squeak comes out. The blood has drained from her face, giving her already-pale complexion a starlight glow.

There’s a soft tapping on the glass around her. Fingernails trembling against the panes. We suck in another lungful of her terror-tinged scent.

Gator may be the one who eats his victims, but Githany’s smell makes us want to devour her whole.

Elongating both of our tongues is liberating. They’d been quite cramped behind our human face. Githany’s breathing quickens as she watches the squirming appendages descend on her. Alternating our tongues, we swipe them up the column of her throat. One side, then the other.

She inhales deeply, slowing her rapid breaths. One of the best parts about our body is that we have no set shape. We can be anywhere, anything, oreverywhere.

The seams of her bra and panties dissolve as our form expands beneath them.

Our darkness wraps around her, caressing every bit of skin. The boots she’s wearing impede our actions. They’ll have to go. Shoes are all that’s left between us and every last inch of Githany’s supple body. Pulverizing the boots is easy work. Githany drops several inches without her platforms. Such a tiny thing.

Even with the restricted movement, Githany works towiden her stance. We know just what she needs. Shaping our lower half allows us endless creativity. We start with the long, thick shape of a human cock. It’s satisfactory, but not nearly amusing enough. Small fingers of shadow sprout from tip to base, they whip around, thrashing in every direction. That’s more like it. Dozens of independently moving tendrils groping at every part of our ghost girl, inside and out. All while we thrust into her until we’re deep enough to be tasted.

That many sensations are bound to drive a person mad.

After all, Madness is our name and our specialty.

Our freshly formed cock throbs at the first contact with Githany’s wet heat. We’ve not had sex with a human before. We underestimated how small their bodies are. Our beautiful creation will never fit. With considerable willpower, we shrink it down until the funneled darkness is just able to push past her opening.

Githany’s eyes roll back like a woman possessed. We mean to be careful, but we are not good with caution. Our hips can’t stop moving forward, burying until we hit something.

Pleasure that overtakes the consumption of fear bleeds through our every shadowy cell.We need more.

Githany cries out as our darkness invades her empty spaces. We’re quick to silence her, funneling darkness down her throat.

What a sight our ghost girl is. Eyes rolled, orifices stuffed with shadow, immobilized and leaking.

A distant sound rises above her whimpers.Uh-oh. We hear him before she does. A modicum of guilt tingles through us. He’s a jealous one. We are never going to hear the end of this.

With reluctance, we empty the holes of our littlenecromancer. The whites of Githany’s eyes vanish, allowing her pupils to roll dizzily back into place.

Her words are scratchy, her throat dry from a prolonged hinged jaw. “What, what happened? Why did you stop?”

“Time to share.” We sigh. “Hunt wants to play too.”

The sound of a chainsaw shattering glass tears through our maze.

The reflection to our right reveals him, approaching from behind us. The walls fall like sugar as he barrels through them, chainsaw raised high.

“There you are.” The menace in his voice has our cock twitching. Maybe he’ll punish us.

The tip of his chainsaw touches the mirrored box, sending vibrations rumbling through Githany’s fragile body. The back wall crumbles, freeing her from her prison.

She drops to the ground without support, gulping in air.

She’s only down there for a second before Hunt has her by the arm. He hauls her up, dragging her back the way he came.

We follow, laughing softly. “We were just about to come find you.”

Hunt’s eyes rove over our fear form, dropping to the wriggling cock we manifested. “Sure you were.”