Dridder Eats a Maley Fritter (Patreon)

Dridder Eats a Maley Fritter

Commissioned by Malethor

Written by HarmonyMotion

Chapter 1 - Ciel and Malethor

Ciel scampered along the upper branches of the thick, densely canopied Chidokai forest. Her pale green skin, like all those of her race, gave her the perfect camouflage in her adopted habitat. Today was the day that she would introduce Malethor to her home city of Bulvon!

They’d become fast friends ever since that fateful meeting. Her webs, like those of all other Bolas Dridders, were coated with her race’s unique psychic ink. Bolas Dridders lacked the deadly poisons commonly associated with spiders and other Dridders, but what they did have were devilishly quick reactions, absolutely silent sneaking through the forests with each of their eight dextrous legs, and a quick trigger detection over whatever touched their webs over any distance via an invisible connection.

They also happened to be about 100 feet tall.

So instead of bites and venom as their natural defenses, like other intelligent species, Bolas Dridders sacrificed physical talents in exchange for cunning and guile. Ciel was chief among the more tricky and skillful ones, though her predation drive was not high. This made her an extra strange outlier. She never gorged, remaining slim and lithe, wearing her green hair in a short bob. Her yellow eyes shined with the excitement and anticipation of seeing more of the world every day.

Thus, when a strange creature she’d scarcely been aware of before was investigating one of her sticky webs in the outskirts of Chidokai forest, she immediately headed over to inspect. It was too small to be a satiating meal, but what she found whet the appetite of her curiosity instead of her stomach.

There was something prodding her webs, not entrapped and wriggling like her meal would usually be, but instead poking and then pulling back (or attempting to.) And then another object would get inserted and prod away once more, perhaps poking the first object to try and understand it. This wasn’t a random tree branch or whatever stuck in her translucent web; no, this felt like the work of a conscious mind.

Ciel had scampered over on her eight legs, wary of what it could mean. A threat to their species, perhaps? A thin silk web extruded from her web spinner, dangling an enormous, heavy spiked flail by any other race’s means, but for a 100 foot tall half spider half human, it was hardly a strain. Even when dangling from a strand of strong silk.

The deadly weapon flickered chaotically in her expert web. Its movement was unpredictable, honed from years of Bolas Dridder training. Unpredictable, accurate, and always in her control. She flicked it down into the trees, and no one would have known she was wielding. It whizzed through the dense forest silently, only rustling leaves as Ciel used her special web senses to guide its jagged trajectory.

When she reached her webs, she found a surprising sight. A human-looking male with a small pair of protruding horns was playing with her webs like a toy! He was conjuring fire in his hands somehow, too weak to do any damage to her webs, and cackling his head off like some sort of mischievous child. The heat made her difficult-to-see webs grow in iridescent colors, which he apparently found quite amusing.

Ciel snuck up on him, unsure if he was dangerous. Aiming carefully and sticking her flail to a tree, Ciel waited until he was standing still before firing a thick, sticky ball of string right at the mischievous devil, or imp, or human, or whatever it was...

Her aim was true. The mysterious being rolled right into her spun web as her new shot of string curled around and around him, growing ever thicker and tighter. When he was fully enveloped and mummified by her gooey silk, Ciel went closer to examine.

“Heya!” Malethor greeted his captor as she pulled him up close to her yellow eyes. He wriggled futilely. “I’d wave, but I can’t move my arms.”

“You’re... not scared?” Ciel narrowed her eyes. What trickery was he up to?

He gave her a crooked grin and disappeared in a plume of black smoke.

Ciel panicked. What sorcery was this!?

She felt an itch on her shoulder. Then a tap.

“Tada!” Malethor exclaimed, grinning mischievously to himself.

“How did you do that!?” Ciel asked the little funny man standing on her smooth, green arm.

“Half demon,” he smiled wickedly, bearing his sharp teeth.

“You don’t seem all that demonic...” Ciel said.

“Guess not. Must be that other human half in me. I was just playing with this stuff over here. Look, it shines!”

Malethor hopped down from her shoulder and snapped his fingers. A small fire erupted at the tips of his fingers which he used to singe Ciel’s web.

“Hey, that’s mine!” she protested.

“It is!?” Malethor continued to fire sparks and embers at it. “It’s so cool!”

“It’s not a toy!” Ciel protested again. “...You really think it’s cool?”

And thus a friendship was born.

Chapter 2 - The Coliseum

“I’m so excited you’re coming to our annual tournament!” Ciel frittered, gyrating all of her eight legs in excitement.

“I wouldn’t miss it for the worlds!” Malethor enthusiastically reassured her. “Seeing 100 feet tall Dridders in fierce combat is definitely a unique experience...”

“Well, come on. It’s gonna start soon! You can hide in my side pouch.”

“Am I not welcome in Bulvon?” Malethor asked.

“I just don’t want you to get into trouble. I don’t know what the other Bolas Dridders will do if they see you, that’s all.”

“Don’t worry. I promise I won’t get into trouble with anyone else,” Malethor reassured her.

Ciel looked at her unpredictable, impish friend. He shot her a not reassuring grin.

---

“Yeaaaaaaah!” Ciel cheered along with the roaring din of the crowd as two competitors entered the enormous ring. Malethor gasped at the spectacle. It was far more complex than any other combat coliseum he’d ever witnessed on his sojourns, and not just because it was a hundred times larger because of the species he was spectating.

Instead of open sky above the coliseum, the Bolas Dridders of Bulvon had constructed an artificial canopy above their heads. It made sense; their city rested above the canopy of the Chidokai forest, but all of their martial skills were based upon predatory hunting and surprise dives upon unsuspecting prey.

Malethor had crawled out of Ciel’s brown side pouch, completely entranced by the display of fierce strength and agility of these Bolas Dridders. Ciel herself was totally engrossed, hollering and whooping with the crowd, that she hadn’t noticed him either. It turned out he could be sneaky and quiet when he wanted to be.

He sat at the edge of her dessert cup, filled with vibrantly colored berries picked from their very own forest. He gasped as these creatures seemed to be able to leap through the canopy seamlessly, not disturbing a branch or nary a leaf despite their enormous stature.

“Watch carefully, Maley!” Ciel hissed at his old position in her pouch. She had no idea that he was skipping along the lip of her dessert cup.

He, too, was completely unaware of Ciel not realizing his location. The entire arena was deathly silent now. One of the Bolas Dridders was still in the lower bowl of the arena whereas his opponent had flown above. Why was he staying down there? He looked at the canopied ceiling in fear, his flail quivering and dancing in self defense. Why not go up?!

Above, the leaves rustled. Malethor thought it was strange. He’d seen the way Ciel moved, perfectly stealthily. Why was his opponent telegraphing his position?

It soon became clear. The rustles above began to multiply, both in frequency and locations. And to Malethor, who was approximately one tenth of their size, it was like watching a well-conducted orchestra perform in all of its glory. How was the unseen opponent above doing this!? Even Malethor could feel the tension in the air, ready to cut from a single slit of a knife. Or the massive flail of a Bolas Dridder.

And if Malethor was feeling it, so was the combatant below. The large beads of sticky sweat were visible on his skin as he scuttled back and forth from danger hot zones, almost like some animals called crabs that Malethor had seen in other worlds. And he was beginning to look positively boiled as well.

Finally, his opponent below couldn’t take it. He tried to randomize his movement and launched his flail high into the trees, blindly yet seemingly to good effect. The rustling above stopped. The entire audience was fully attentive. Ciel scooped another handful of fruits and nuts past her green lips. Malethor stumbled and danced out of the way of her hand, catching the lip of her enormous cup and scampering back into a seated position. He heard the sound of his friend greedily crunching her snack.

Finally, the pressure boiled over. The combatant on the lower ground, who had been harried and denied the entire fight, made a desperate attempt to go above. He launched his flail up and seemingly swung it around, Malethor guessed. Despite playing with Ciel’s silk, it was still so impossibly hard to see. Then, the combatant made a few mad lunges, then tried to leap onto the arena above himself.

The result was a disaster.

On his ascent, his opponent’s flail rocketed toward him from behind on a precisely aimed collision course. He never even saw it coming. The combatant above had been the puppet master the entire time and orchestrated the perfect coup. His flail crashed into the back of his ascending opponent’s head, knocking him out cold immediately. The unfortunate Bolas Dridder fell to the ground, his own flail crashing down through the canopy in a cacophony of snapping limbs and fluttering green leaves.

The crowd erupted into uproarious applause.

The coliseum staff came out and dragged away the bloodied, unconscious fighter. The flails they used in competitive combat were nowhere near as heavy or deadly as the real thing, but at the velocities the Bolas Dridders were used to commanding them, they still served as dangerous projectiles. Still, everyone would probably be fine.

“Maley, Maley, did you see that?!” Ciel shouted with a total lack of caution, her mouth full of her nut and fruit snack she’d been chomping the whole time. “Those were our best show fighters, and it was a great show!”

Amidst the cheering crowd, Ciel looked down in her brown satchel. Then looked around her fruit cup. Then on the seats around her... and even on the thoraxes of the other Bolas Dridders seated near her. Malethor better not have been causing any mischief after she’d snuck him into Bulvon!

But no, he was nowhere to be found. Ciel hiccupped and scratched her short boyish hair.

Well, he was a mischievous little one, after all. She hoped she’d get to see him again, though she’d probably chew him out for ghosting her on the greatest fight her race had ever put on.

Chapter 3 - Malethor’s Double Header

Malethor had been fully engrossed in the combat match while Ciel’s hand continued to swipe and swipe, gobbling up her snack. What was going to happen next? Where had the upper fighter gone? What did it look like from the more expensive seats higher and further away that could see both tiers of the arena?

He never got to see the conclusion of the gripping battle. The shadow from above that obscured his vision wasn’t that of the Bolas Dridder above, but was just Ciel’s hand.

He thought she was picking him up to put him on her shoulder to give him a better view. Or to whisper something to him. Or maybe just to get him out of the way of her snack. But no, she shook the cup and rattled the final bit of her mix, cupping her hand to the lip of her bowl to make sure nothing swirled out, and then... scooped him up with the rest of it and sent it all tumbling into her waiting mouth.

It had all happened so fast. Before he knew it, he was slathered in the juices of overripe fruit, the seasoned nuts, and Ciel’s sweet, sticky saliva. The Bolas Dridders weren’t terribly toxic, he knew, but to be completely saturated by her toxins in her intimate maw was... an aphrodisiac. The sensual feeling of being swatted and shoved by her lime green tongue as her saliva tickled and tantalizingly teased his skin was... arousing.

As Ciel continued to unwittingly roll Malethor on her mouth, her strong, moist muscle rolling him helplessly against her slightly tingling teeth and pressing him against the fleshy roof and floor of her cavity, he involuntarily moaned in unhidden lust. He’d always been attracted to his friend’s tomboyish feminine looks, and experiencing her aphrodisiacal juices was heaven.

Still, he had to get out of here. He hated being eaten! With any luck, Ciel was just playing a prank on him, like she always complained about him doing to her. Malethor struggled to focus his powers of teleportation, concentrating closely on teleporting back outside, but every time Ciel swatted and pressed him once more, he delayed just that tiny fraction more, prolonging his sexual satisfaction as he thrilled in her suffocating juices.

No, this was too dangerous! Malethor hated being eaten, and once he was down in those depths, his powers of world teleportation—hell, even his short range teleportation—would be severely hindered by his surroundings. The insides of living beings was simply too chaotic for his powers to channel!

Currently pressed and molded to her cheek, Malethor forced himself to concentrate. Concentrate, dammit! Don’t think about how Ciel’s saliva was causing his member to engorge. Don’t think about the sticky goo of the fruit slathered over his face and adhered to his hair. Don’t think about the horrors that lay below should she swallow him...

His body shuddered as he conjured his spell. A puff of black smoke, and...

Malethor found himself placed just at the entrance to her esophagus.

With one final, large swallow, Malethor went tumbling down into the intimate, hot, humid, oppressive world of the interior of a Bolas Dridder.

Chapter 4 - Neon Lights

“Noooooo!” Malethor screamed as he was once again swallowed by a predator of a strange world. Or, that’s what he would have done, if not for the constant, unpredictable downpour of chewed up fruit and nuts raining onto his head.

As far as he could tell, he was in a long, tight, narrow tube that warped and pulsed all around him. And once in a while, random splotches of Ciel’s inner flesh glowed a neon green, illuminating the fleshy alien prison he was now confined in. He tried futilely to teleport out to another world, one where he was the largest, but any attempt to escape just resulted in another unbearably tight squeeze from Ciel’s throbbing esophagus. It was almost as if her body knew exactly how to deny him as it dragged her down deeper and deeper into her inescapable pit from which there would be no escape, even with his powers...

The walls of her tube were occasionally lined with a sticky substance. Malethor sought them out, hoping to make a physical escape rather than a magical one. Those must have been Ciel’s webs that she’d ingested! However, the large gaps between each decaying strand meant that Malethor could only stick his fingers on it for a few seconds before the adhesive seemed to wear off. He felt as if he were being toyed with by Ciel’s insides!

At that thought, another drench of saliva and sticky fruit rained down on him. His clothes were beginning to dissolve. As well as any hope of making it out of Ciel’s cruel insides.

A forceful downward tsunami of her tube squeezed all the air out of Malethor’s lungs, forcing him to get a huge mouthful of her food, second hand. While he choked and sputtered on the sweet yet vile, half chewed up mush, Ciel’s esophagus massaged his body in a languid, downward ripple, invading every crevice of his body and stoking his arousal against his will while pushing him down, down, down into her abyss...

---

“Great match, eh Ciel!? Can you believe that maneuver Papoyas did up top!? WHAM! I can’t wait to hear the reports from the... rich nobility who were able to afford the good seats what actually happened above! I bet it was epic!” Menfi gave her a nudge with a swivel of her hips and a bump of her thorax.

“Yeah! It was amazing!” Ciel answered her friend. “Where the hell is Malethor...” she muttered under her breath.

“What did you say? What’s a Malethor?” Menfi asked.

“Oh, nothing! Just wondering what all the males... are... for...” Ciel’s voice trailed off as her ad lib fell totally flat.

“You’re so weird, Ciel.”

“Ha ha, ha ha ha,” she responded awkwardly. “I just feel kinda funny. Maybe it was something I ate...”

“You want me to take you to see a doctor?” Menfi continued to be unwelcomely helpful.

“No, no! I’m sure it’ll pass,” Ciel tried to fob her friend off. “Hey! I feel something in my webs!” She lied.

“Where! Northeastern Chidokai? There’s been lots of Dridders reporting some strangeness there! I’ll come with you!” Menfi eagerly invited herself.

“No, no! It’s um... over... hey is that Papoyas!?” Ciel pointed behind Menfi.

“Is it!? I want an autograph!” Menfi turned to look.

Ciel took her opportunity to leap over the canopy and run away.

Menfi turned back to look at her friend. She could see Ciel’s signature rustling above, her technique clearly not as refined as the champion’s. But clearly the girl wanted to be left alone. Menfi shrugged and sighed.

---

Malethor’s downward journey deposited him in an enormous, alien looking cavern. Faint, green lights glowed into and out of existence inside what he could only assume to be Ciel’s stomach. Dridder webs lined the walls of her inner cavity, a fitting reflection of the outside world that Malethor longed for.

It was almost beautiful in there, if not for the awful stench that invaded Malethor’s sinuses. Though, the more he breathed in those toxic fumes, the more he fell under Ciel’s tranquil poison, his mind becoming uzzy and growing accepting of his ultimate fate at her hands. Or spidery thorax. Or stomach.

But the psychological trauma of being imprisoned like this prevented him from finding any true enjoyment from his situation. That, and the constant torrid plop of further foodstuffs all over his already drenched and slimed half-demon body. Just how much could she eat, anyway! She looked so thin and svelte... but then again, she was a magnitude larger than he.

Her stomach cavity was large, of course. He could spend hours in there just walking around, examining it... not that he could be anywhere else, anyway. Totally entrapped, succumbing to Ciel’s mercy.

The green blood that flowed in her veins lit up all around him, like some sort of Eldritch horror or nightmare. Her web of veins with their sickly green glow, lighting up and causing eternal unease as the low rumble and ever-shifting floor crested and dipped under his unsteady feet. Sometimes her veiny luminescence heralded a new gush of Dridder acid to chew away at his fuzzy nerves. Other times, it merely preceded a terrifying, rolling growl, deep within the bowels of CIel’s beast side. Malethor never knew what would happen next. The only thing he knew was that he was hopelessly, inexorably trapped in a rank mist of green, corrosive dew while the very flesh he stood on was hostile to his immortal body.

Malethor grunted in annoyance that he couldn’t even fly in here. Step by step, he trudged through the green, sludgy ooze, his leather boots soaked with the vile substance. His eyes stung, his nostrils burned, and every moment was a mix of nausea and arousal. As his stomach lurched, so did Ciel’s, causing him to lose his footing as if the carpet had been pulled out from under his feet. He landed face first in the sour, bitter, green chyme.

Sputtering and crawling to his knees, Malethor witnessed Ciel’s stomach lining flashing and arcing... at him? Wherever he looked, that’s where her veins flashed and lit up rhythmically in regular, convulsing pulses. Was... was her stomach laughing at his despair!?

Malethor raged in fury. He didn’t ask to be eaten, for gods’ sake! Why couldn’t Ciel have been more attentive! Why was he so engrossed in their stupid primitive combat rituals? Was this punishment for some past sins and misdeeds his demonic father had committed? This wasn’t fair!

A portion on the floor of Ciel’s stomach that was glowing suddenly disappeared into a dark, black abyss. What was going on? There was still a green ring highlighting the hole that had seemingly opened up. The sludge and chyme all around was getting sucked in... as if it were some sort of black hole.

Malethor gasped. That must have been a further way down through Ciel’s bowels. He had to stay away from that! If he could just gather enough strength, grow accustomed to this atmosphere, shake the invasive, distracting stench out of his mind, and god forbid, have food stop raining down above him—maybe he would be able to climb out far enough to be able to channel his demonic magics and get out of this sickening hell.

The sticky, fleshy floor beneath him growled hungrily and goaded him toward that hole.

“No!” Malethor shouted, choking once again on Ciel’s bile. He turned and ran clumsily, every step a burning challenge for his drained muscles. When had he gotten so weak!? He looked down at his pumping legs. They were still there, coated in her goop, but looking no worse for wear. Still solid, still familiar looking... just lacking in strength. Ciel’s insides were insidious!

Meanwhile, his erection was at full mast.

Malethor tried to shake off the distraction, but a flood of circular green lights greeted him: on the far walls, on the ceiling like a blaring spotlight, on the floor that surrounded him. He stumbled back and forth, unsure of what these horrifying lights meant. Did Ciel have a brain in her stomach? Some kind of cruel streak!?

Without warning, a hole opened up beneath his feet. He fell in wholly and completely before the circular disk closed around him, pincering his torso tightly enough to constrict even his immortal body. Malethor choked and tried to scream, his head nearly submerged below the fetid layer of food that was a permanent feature of Ciel’s stomach. He struggled to dig his fingers into the deadly vice before he would lose consciousness or—could he get sliced in half!?—by Ciel’s squeezing! He clawed at the slick, warm, throbbing flesh before finally goading his digits in. With a herculean effort, he widened the gap just enough for his well lubricated body to slide through.

The ceiling closed above him after he fell through.

He was dropped into a fetid pool, the fumes actually visible in its sickly green glow as it created a haze in the air. Malethor stood up, sloshing in the vile stuff as he looked around. Was this her intestines? No, it was a tiny sac, much unlike the cavernous stomach (or what he assumed was a stomach) before. The disintegrated slush in here was totally unrecognizable... was this what her food turned into?

The ceiling opened up once more, depositing more of the viscous goop right onto Malethor’s head. The little sac vibrated and began to turn. Malethor slipped and went head under, tumbling in the still, fetid pool as Ciel’s insides began to physically batter him in her fermented mixture. When he could catch a glimpse of above via his burning eyes, he could see the undigested remains of food floating above in the relatively less horrifying cavern above. But what came in was glowing green, alien mush.

When he thought he would lose consciousness, either from suffocation or assault, this second little sac opened a small funnel to let its contents through. As his tenderized body fell through that little hole, it squeezed him tight, stifling any scream from his helpless body as it tried to ensure that what passed through was slurry and thin enough, ready for absorption for her intestines. Malethor screamed and struggled to pump himself downwards, finally pushing him through that thin hole.

Chapter 5 - The Labyrinthine World of Ciel

Safe from the prying eyes of her friend, Ciel launched herself through the air over the canopy of Bulvon. She felt a keen awareness, her acute senses honed even more than before. Her pale yellow eyes flickered from one point to the next, seeing farther and clearer as she made out the detail on every individual veined leaf while traveling at incredible speed. In fact, she was moving so easily, she felt as if she could fly! If only a little.

The sun shone brightly on her green skin as her hair was blown back by her extreme velocity. Its rays had never felt as invigorating as they had now! She could feel the energy budding at the tips of her fingers, begging, nay aching, to come out!

While she soared through the air, she splayed out her fingers and focused on the strange sensation. To her shock, little wisps of fire burst forth from her fingertips!

She was so frightened and surprised that she ceased her travel. ...Only to find that she had halted in midair, completely unsupported by either her webs or any sort of solid footing beneath her.

Ciel was just floating in midair.

What was going on!? She snuffed out her five little lighters with a thought and wiggled her feet, feeling foolish as she wasn’t sure how to control this power. Step by step—or whatever it was called when she flailed her eight spidery legs in midair—she goaded herself back onto the trees and exhaled a tense breath of relief.

Limited flight. A little bit of elemental control. Could she... teleport?

A gigantic puff of black smoke, and Ciel re-emerged a few feet from where she’d stood.

Ciel gasped. Oh no! Had she... had she eaten Malethor?! Bolas Dridder digestive systems were vastly complex and well-evolved, as their physicians proudly reminded them. It was what made the Bolas Dridders the most feared race in all the lands, they boasted. If Malethor was stuck inside of her, even with all his immense powers, then there may truly be no way out for him. Until he was digested...

The thought made Ciel’s heart chill over. Had she really eaten her friend!?

As she exhaled another deep sigh, her frozen breath sparkled and iced over a wide swath of the the top of the canopy where she stood.

---

Malethor gasped at the grotesque spectacle before him. Was this Ciel’s... intestines!? It was a horrible maze, like a deep underground tunnel that had been dug out by ancient civilization and then buried for thousands of years, only to be discovered later. There were so many passages to explore, no sign of which direction to go, and he knew how large Ciel’s thorax had looked from the outside. He might be cursed to spend eternity in here! Forever suffering, never allowed the sweet death of release.

His leather tunic and cloth pants were slowly disintegrating too, well on its way to turning into rags bile soaked rags. Bolts of green light lit up her labyrinthian walls at random intervals, fueling Malethor’s nightmare even further. At some point he would fall asleep... or would he just be kept awake by those flashing lights until he went insane? Perhaps that was a better fate than falling asleep. Who knew what would be left when he woke up?

The sound of onrushing fluid rang in his ears. He looked behind him, anticipating the worst. Sure enough, there it was: a large tide of chunky, chewed up, venomous bile headed directly for him.

Malethor began to run and jumped into one of a myriad of tunnels. He wasn’t spared from being splashed, but Ciel’s partially digested food went into various branches and only splashed over him as opposed to drowning him and carrying him against his will to who knows where. His clothes disintegrated even further. His massive erection, covered in green sludge, tingled frustratingly. He grabbed it and wiped it clean as best he could with his hands, exposing himself in the process as his pants disappeared completely and fell to the floor in tattered rags. He involuntarily and idly stroked it as well. The disgusting lubrication actually felt... nice.

As he began to pump with ever more vigor, a warm, unpleasant greeted him. The walls behind him were engorging and moving out to meet him. He yelped in fright as he saw the wall in front of him constricting as well, growing ever closer. He made a run for it, his hand still gripping his rock hard erection.

Malethor screamed as he dashed for the end of the closing tunnel. He also gasped at the quick, glancing brush that the tip of his exposed cockhead had received from some tendrils that flagellated back and forth and extended from Ciel’s approaching walls. The shock of arousal nearly caused his knees to buckle and to fall flat on his face while his penis was fully erect and sticking out like a flagpole. Would it... would Ciel’s fleshy floor absorb it into her, receiving him, massaging and accepting him while her acids continued to nibble away at his skin?

He struggled to clear that thought from his mind. He had to escape!

Right as he dashed out of the tunnel did it close behind him. When he turned to face it, the only sign that it had ever been there was a glowing green scar that marked the opening that was now closed.

Malethor sobbed. What could he do? His shoes had been lost somewhere in the process. Ciel’s flesh molded and absorbed him, getting in between his toes and constantly pulsed, reminding him forever that her flesh was hostile and ever present.

Suddenly, he felt a familiar sensation. A... a teleport! Her insides filled with a plume of black smoke, scented with brimstone that quickly dissolved. Had he just teleported!? Maybe! If he just concentrated...

Another teleport! Except he was now floating in the air, and only for a second. He fell face first (erection first, actually) into Ciel’s floor. Her green folds sucked on his erection as her cilia reached out to grip and stroke his demi-manhood, sliding up and down his shaft swiftly and slickly. He couldn’t help but moan as his hips pumped up and down, gasping as the intense, new, feelings of getting his erect penis lathed in Ciel’s unrelenting attention drove him toward an all too familiar ending.

But before he could really enjoy it, another rush of fluid rumbled and headed his way. He wanted to sob in despair as his burgeoning erection which had been teased for... who knew how long? He had long since lost track of time inside of this green, glowing, exitless cavern. He could find no physical nor sexual relief from the peril that now haunted him.

Making up his mind in a split second, he placed his arms on the floor and tried to push himself up in order to outrun the new wave. But his arms only sank into Ciel’s flesh as well, greeted by hundreds of little villi that wrapped in between his fingers and gripped his arms, pulling him down into their foul, dark embrace. His entire body began to sink into Ciel, becoming a part of her as that wash of green sludge flowed over him, battering his fully naked body. He was face down in a puddle of her slime.

And the whole time, her intestines never stopped gripping, stroking his shaft. Up, down, up, down, her villi swirling in light circles over his demonhood, sizzling against his hypersensitive skin, giving his most sensitive flesh a juxtaposition of loving care and torturous burning.

Having no other choice, Malethor swallowed her vile chyme and gagged. As if on cue, Ciel’s body stroked him more vigorously, more tightly. Even when he had known the intimacy of a woman, it’d never felt this good before! Ciel’s grip was so tight, her flesh molded to his every ridge, his every bump. Her cilia teased the aching slit of his angry, overworked cockhead as hundreds of other ones gently caressed his boiling testicles, goading him closer and closer to the point of no return.

In the midst of his lusty haze and Ciel’s grip, he didn’t notice that the entire network of tunnels was closing in on him, growing more and more claustrophobic. Malethor panicked and tried to wriggle free as Ciel’s slick, wet, grimy internals gave him a loving parting stroke while the walls continued to close around him.

Malethor ran for his life, but even the tunnel in front of him was shrinking, and there was no freedom on the other side. He performed a head first, superhero leap through the tightening exit only to dive headfirst into Ciel’s strong, tight flesh. Hundreds of little tendrils wrapped around his face and invaded his orifices while her intestines closed around his horizontal, helpless body. He groaned in pain and ecstasy as he wriggled, accomplishing nothing but to rub his tense, overworked body against his tormentress’s prison.

Soon, he was completely entombed by writhing, purply flesh. Malethor tried to scream, but her bitter taste filled his mouth as it tried to expand into it. He twisted and bucked, trying to swim through Ciel’s insides, making “progress” one excruciating inch at a time as her villi caressed and burned him. Was he still horizontal to the earth? Upside down? Everything around him was bumpy, dark, discolored flesh.

He felt her tighten and restrict him even further as a small hole opened up near his head. He could see freedom! Open space! Squirming and quivering, he scarcely even realized that Ciel’s involuntary actions had triggered a burning release from his swollen testicles. He felt his life force weaken as he shot rope after rope of his demonic seed into her loving embrace. An impromptu sphincter wrapped around his waist while he continued to spill his seed, squeezing his abdomen unbearably tightly!

With his waning strength, Malethor struggled to push himself out of it. His still shaking organ squeezed through that vise-like embrace, squeezing the final vestiges of his violent eruption as he passed through that portal to relative freedom.

He fell into relatively open space.

Heaving in satisfying sexual release, Malethor lay there on her floors, face up and breathing raggedly. With his mind clear of the sexual fog that had tormented him this whole time, he tried to piece together what was happening. He thought he’d teleported. Twice. But he barely had time to concentrate and invoke his powers! There... there could only be one explanation.

Suddenly, he was launched into the ceiling. He found himself once again pressed face first into Ciel’s flesh, but this time defying gravity.

She had his powers! This was... this was the cruelest cruelty!

As if to soothe him, Ciel’s villi once again protruded from her walls and wrapped around him, wrapping him in an unbreakable bear hug. When the sensation of flying receded, he still found himself glued to her ceiling walls as those cilia flicked and lashed at his ears, as if to comfort him with whispers while her flesh began to mold itself unbearably tightly to his manhood once more and began to stroke...

Chapter 6 - Temporarily Powered Ciel

Ciel marveled at the powers that presumably swallowing Malethor (of which she still felt gut-wrenching guilt) had granted her. She soared through the air, completely unaided and free of the influence of gravity. This was really something!

She hoped she would see her friend again some day. But for now, she may as well use the gifts that Malethor had granted her...

Ciel thanked him silently, praying that her Bolas Dridder flesh would be kind to him.