A virgin, Ben had no prior experiences with orgasming, but he didn’t imagine it to be the explanation for his languor. This couldn’t be normal. The lady, no, not lady, this creature, this devilish nymph, had drained his life force and his size. Now she was doing it to his friend as well. Each of her hands had a vice grip around his knees, holding them apart to free the jewel between his legs. Troy looked like a strung-up rabbit, arms drooping down, barely moving aside from the lifeless swaying set in motion across his body by the contact her mouth made to his dick. And that contact wasn’t faint either, she sucked and dragged the limp thing out, refusing to accept he was finished, relentless in her efforts. The room was filled with the squeaky sucks and fleshy smatters her mouth peppered onto him, her saliva threading down Troy’s chest.

It was a surreal thing to behold, such silky, smooth, and silvery skin, a matching snowy hue to her long hair, the face of a lady, yet the way she sat cross-legged and feasted on Troy erased anything befitting a lad. What he saw was more akin to a chimpanzee feasting on a rabbit’s corpse, a sheer animalistic hunger. The description was made more accurate by how she hadn’t touched herself once, lust never the primary motivator. Hunger and power seemed to be, power for the size she gained, hunger for the fervor with which she devoured their cocks.

But she seemed sufficiently distracted by trying to extract every last drop of semen out of Troy, and with that, Ben crawled towards the hole. He wasn’t sure how he would take the fall, more perilous now with his reduced size, but he couldn’t just lie around. Falling to the room below, hiding, an unfinished idea along those lines played out in his head, where he might find an opening to sneak out of here. When the scenario finished in his mind, a terrible despair befell him, for Ben realized that best case he wished for involved abandoning his friend. It brought with it the implication that he had accepted Troy’s demise, joyous over the opportunity to slip out the tunnel back to the pond, back to the village to tell everyone. He was joyous over a fate where he got out and Troy was devoured by her, a proper description of how dreary things had become.

At the lip of the hole, Ben got on his knees, peering down, seeing the craggy edges which had caught his waist.

The noise her mouth had made all this time stopped. Turning around, Ben saw those blank eyes staring at him, mouth frozen over Troy’s manhood, interrupted during dinner.

She tossed Troy aside like trash and bolted for Ben. Panicked, Ben threw himself over the edge, passing through the hole. A warm, tight hold closed around his calf, seizing all his momentum. He was whipped back and out of the hole, and she did not waste a second, slamming him right back onto her mouth. The time she’d spent away from him gave him time to recharge, and he felt it return, the painful cramps under his testicles.

“No, please,” he groaned, her tongue and mouth revitalized at the prospect of him being ready to ejaculate, slobbering over his entire lower body. “It hurts… S— Stop!” His complaints did nothing, feeling no different than a rabbit which cried in the wolf’s mouth. She held only one of his legs with one hand, the other using its index finger to expertly massage the stretch traveling down the middle of his scrotum. The cramps peaked, Ben trembling in his groans. After being used so many times. Ben’s ejaculation didn’t have much left to offer. Yet she remained efficient, her symphony of massage and suction milking every available drop out of him.

She carried him over to where she had thrown Troy and sat on the moss. Having shrunk again, Ben was half the length of her thigh, and upon her thigh she let him lie, his arms and legs straddling it like a drunken monkey on an enormous branch. And with Ben left there, all the fight drained out of him, she feasted on Troy again, working him up to yet another orgasm, savoring the few drops he had left as well. The nymph put Troy over her other thigh, their heads pointing to her knees, lying on their front. She lifted their bottom and flicked the dick out, towards her, letting them lie on their front again and leave it out. With her two indexes, she planted the fingertip on the shaft of their dick and stroked them.

And in that position they remained. No matter how difficult it would be to score another orgasm, that would prove no barrier to her attempts. Her fingertip was continuous on them, and with time it would come again, and they were helpless to do anything with that time.

In the corner of his vision, Ben spotted a yellow stretch near a bush.

It was Clara’s frock.

Troy almost grumbled a complaint, wanting to ask why, though stopped himself. He knew why. Everyone knew why predators hunted prey. They could only never imagine that the harmless-looking thing peeking out from the entrance under the waterfall, no taller than their waist, was a predator to watch out for. Awaiting their imminent demise as she kept stroking them, the next orgasm inevitable, they could only wallow in their regret. Chasing her down the tunnel, the clumsy slips, a comedy of errors was needed to bring them here, and they had erred accordingly. They had played right into her hand, allowing her this position of complete dominance. Now, she could do whatever she wanted with them. But more than themselves, more than Clara, their thoughts went to everyone else who might fall victim. Troy had been at his normal size and was overpowered by her, and now she’d grown even larger and would continue to. She could pick people off. Their utter incompetence had boosted her out of her most vulnerable state, unleashing a true danger that innocent, decent people would fall victim to, and it would likely start at their village.

Troy squirmed, zapped out of his stupor, results of her constant stroking finally arriving. The moment was inevitable. At his sign of life, the nymph immediately grabbed him and hugged him onto her mouth, the cursed, hungry mouth that did not discriminate back at work.

Troy kissed her nose, cuddling against her. “Please.” Despite how fruitless it was, despite having plenty of evidence, Troy let himself be fooled by her womanly face, the visage of a human he could speak to. Even though the nature of this danger was far more comparable to a frenzied bear than a person committing a crime, he still pleaded, spoke words. He kissed her back and wished they could reach someplace different. He did it because there were no options left.

Troy’s orgasm amounted to one scant drop of cum, the tears out of his eyes far plentier. Her lips were massive now, Troy equaling her middle finger. He was returned to the thigh, Ben taken for his turn. After some time, she obtained one drop out of him as well.

Then, she put both boys into her mouth, Ben against her left cheek and Troy against her right. She stood up and left the room, having a difficult time navigating her way back out with her larger size. Many of the previous, large passages now demanded sidling, ducking, some options too small and not available anymore. But there seemed to be a way still. The boys didn’t know what she had in mind, perhaps allowing hope inside that she kept them alive, wondering if they’d see Clara, a location where her victims were dumped.

Peering her head out gingerly, the nymph arrived outside at the pond. Sunlight blared into the cavern of her mouth as her lips parted. The blue skies gave them hope. Her hand poked in and gathered them together, bringing them out. They were plunged straight into the pond, the hand holding them swiveling about, soaking them.

They surfaced with a sharp gasp, clinging to her fingers. The chill dive did well to wake them. The other hand picked Troy, separating the two. The nymph reared her head up, her jaws parting, tongue extended. Troy was brought over the chasm between her lips. The fingers let him go, sending him onto the slope of her pink tongue. The slide down was slick, and upon hitting the back of her throat, the familiar gulp arrived. Except this time, it wasn’t their seed, but Troy himself creating the little bulge along her throat. They would indeed be sent to Clara’s location.

Ben screamed louder than he ever had in his life. The nymph grew again, a stronger spurt than when consuming their seed. Her breast rounded out further, a mature, voluminous pair which jiggled with movement. It explained why she’d gone outside before eating them, to not be trapped in those tunnels by her size.

Ben was perhaps half her middle finger now, an insignificant creature. Likewise, she brought him over her mouth. The distant stare of her eyes was identical to when she was a short thing reaching his waist. She wasn’t callous or heartless or bloodthirsty; the entire ordeal was impersonal. He was her prey.

Ben was dropped, an easy swallow. Another growth spurt sent her higher still, to a solid twenty feet. Now, there was no more hiding in caves, no more caution and guile and luring required.

Now, it was time to hunt.