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"description": "I’ve lost count how many times I’ve been down the monsters gullet now. After the first time, I waited desperately for it to return. There was nothing else to do but wonder about that night, wondering if it was all a dream. When it finally did return I gave myself up more than willingly and, much to its delight, crawled into its gullet. I guess I was addicted to the glow I had felt after it had drained me of all my grief. It was never as intense as the first time, no matter how hard I squirmed or how rough my week had been. It took all my frustrations, all my worries, and when I left the beasts belly it was like my eyes had been opened and nothing was as terrible as it had seemed. I could laugh. \n\nEven though we’ve been doing this for months now, I don’t what its name is. I tried to ask, but it only stares at me with this unreadable expression. I don’t know if I’m the only one. The only prey it hunts, I mean. Were there more like me? People who were going mad with grief? I imagined where I would be, whether I would have hurt myself, if it hadn’t come and claimed me. I was grateful, but I didn’t want to be fooled into thinking that it did this out of compassion or mercy. It did this out of pure hunger, I reminded myself soberly. From the way it cleaned me after it released from its stomach, how it growled as it tasted every inch of me and calling me ‘little flesh’, I was curious if it would ever plunge me down its throat to stay within its chubby body, nothing but a wriggling bulge beneath several layers of pudge.\n\nToday, he didn’t ask me to give myself to him, though. Instead, he sat down and pulled me against his slick, warm body. I huddled against him, enjoying the feel of his bulk as he tucked me under his arm. My hand sunk against into his round belly. I noticed it was much bigger now than when I first saw him. In awe, I stroked the mound of flesh I’d been inside so many times. He began making this warbling, purring noise and after a few minutes he rolled over, got onto his hands and knees and raised his wide haunches into the air.\n\nI stared in disbelief at the sight between his legs. i’d never seen this side of him. I’d never seen him aroused. I was almost scared to move before I heard his voice in my head, hissing with lust, ”Taste me, little flesh.”\n\nHoly shit.\n\nI couldn’t help but lean forward, putting my hands on his flabby cheeks, spreading them to reveal more of that fleshy pucker. It slowly winked at me. My cheeks touched his and my lips pressed against him, but I was hesitant to actually pucker up against him until I hear him moan in that warbled hoot that I’ve grown to adore and obey. \n\nI’m not addicted. I’m in love.\n\n- - -\n\nFinal for Grief Eater art.",
"description_bbcode_parsed": "I’ve lost count how many times I’ve been down the monsters gullet now. After the first time, I waited desperately for it to return. There was nothing else to do but wonder about that night, wondering if it was all a dream. When it finally did return I gave myself up more than willingly and, much to its delight, crawled into its gullet. I guess I was addicted to the glow I had felt after it had drained me of all my grief. It was never as intense as the first time, no matter how hard I squirmed or how rough my week had been. It took all my frustrations, all my worries, and when I left the beasts belly it was like my eyes had been opened and nothing was as terrible as it had seemed. I could laugh.
Even though we’ve been doing this for months now, I don’t what its name is. I tried to ask, but it only stares at me with this unreadable expression. I don’t know if I’m the only one. The only prey it hunts, I mean. Were there more like me? People who were going mad with grief? I imagined where I would be, whether I would have hurt myself, if it hadn’t come and claimed me. I was grateful, but I didn’t want to be fooled into thinking that it did this out of compassion or mercy. It did this out of pure hunger, I reminded myself soberly. From the way it cleaned me after it released from its stomach, how it growled as it tasted every inch of me and calling me ‘little flesh’, I was curious if it would ever plunge me down its throat to stay within its chubby body, nothing but a wriggling bulge beneath several layers of pudge.
Today, he didn’t ask me to give myself to him, though. Instead, he sat down and pulled me against his slick, warm body. I huddled against him, enjoying the feel of his bulk as he tucked me under his arm. My hand sunk against into his round belly. I noticed it was much bigger now than when I first saw him. In awe, I stroked the mound of flesh I’d been inside so many times. He began making this warbling, purring noise and after a few minutes he rolled over, got onto his hands and knees and raised his wide haunches into the air.
I stared in disbelief at the sight between his legs. i’d never seen this side of him. I’d never seen him aroused. I was almost scared to move before I heard his voice in my head, hissing with lust, ”Taste me, little flesh.”
Holy shit.
I couldn’t help but lean forward, putting my hands on his flabby cheeks, spreading them to reveal more of that fleshy pucker. It slowly winked at me. My cheeks touched his and my lips pressed against him, but I was hesitant to actually pucker up against him until I hear him moan in that warbled hoot that I’ve grown to adore and obey.
I’m not addicted. I’m in love.
- - -
Final for Grief Eater art.",
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