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8000-word story commission from Lurker!

Despite not being implicitly mentioned this time around, it takes place within the same world as An Innocent Crushade and Princely Tidings!

The Duke throws open the loosely latched door with his shoulders, Annora fully clasped in his arms. She giggles flirtatiously at his bravado, the gowns trim nearly touching the floor. The duke is adored in his finest silks, sporting a yellowish beige tunic with crisp brown linen pants. He's dressed similarly to when he'd taken the diplomatic mission across stormy seas several moons prior.

Their wedding had been gratuitous in its decoration. The effeminate landowner threw a bountiful feast with everybody who was anybody. People who helped Calin rise to his station so long ago. They'd even run out of their own aged ale toward the end of the drunken fun! What neither the Duke nor his wife knew, however, was those very bodies that had packed neatly into the reception hall only an hour prior were scattered across the handwoven dress, tangled in the hem and waves of fabric. They clamor for help, but existing smaller than the smallest hairpin, they’re too tiny for even a peep to be heard.

The couple is none the wiser, too focused on one another to possibly notice the specks interwoven across her garments. Calin looks down at his bride, her visage stunning as usual. The hazel orbs shine brilliantly across his smooth face as she smiles up at him, cheeks flushing red with arousal. Is it finally time? She wonders, unable to look away, her eyes captivated as if it was their first meeting.

Calin and Annora had delayed for long enough. She squeals in delight as he gently tosses her upon the expansive master bed, ravishing her with kisses along the crux of her neck, before pulling away, much to her dismay. She pouts playfully as her husband stands, moving fast to set the mood. Sensually, several candles are lit. The atmosphere grows warmer, romance seeping in from even the bleakest corners of the room.

Calin places the burnt-up match head in a vase off the side, turning back to his bride with an inquisitive eyebrow. She’d already begun the process of undressing, not willing to waste precious seconds on the fumbling of fingers. Taking the time to carefully fold the expensive dress, she lays it across the elegant bed frame, her black undergarments on full display to her new husband, the future father of her children.

As Calin presses his weight onto the grandiose bed, dozens of nearly impossible-to-see specks are sent flying, scattering across the high thread count sheets of the couple's covers. The mites try to gain their own bearings, stumbling back to their feet, only to be sent airborne once more, lost amid the shifting dunes of expensive silk that makes up the bedding. The second catalyst? None other than Annora herself, deciding to meet her man in the middle, crawling atop their plush mattress. They land significantly more spread out than before, no longer having any possible hope of reuniting as a cohesive group. All the while, a participant of the reception by the name of Jebbin is being thrown about. He’s tossed along the vast depressions created by the girl's hands until finally landing among soft, neatly woven lace. It's not long before he anchors himself to the handspun fabric, confident that letting go may mean the end of his life. 

And how right he is. 

Before Jebbin can process what's happening, the bride's mass overtakes a nearby waiter stranded on the bed frame. He watches in horror as Annora flips over, her crotch steamrolling directly over the server, a man he’d only met roughly one hour prior. The stranger's scream is only vaguely heard as the young man's body is pounded relentlessly underneath tons of flesh and silk. Jebbin, the ever prosperous trader, chokes on air. His breathing staggers as tears pour uncontrollably down his face. He grips on even tighter, the consequence of a fall now laid bare.

Seeing Annora start without him, Calin eagerly starts to undress at the foot of the sprawling bed frame. Though, he's quickly stopped by his betrothed. She crawls over on all fours toward the edge, leaning over with surprising dexterity so she may whisper sweet nothings in his ear. "My love, allow me to help you from that stuffy outfit." She says, her voice vexing the young Duke into submissiveness. She looks into the brown swirls of his eyes before unbuttoning the expensive tunic. She’s careful with the pricey outfit, aware of its comparative worth. The ivory buttons come undone at her delicate touch, but it's merely a detour before moving to his trousers.

It only takes two buttons before it pops out, his manhood excited. Months of waiting culminated this evening. Annora giggles, both nervous and fostering a renewed eagerness to see his throbbing member at full attention for her and her alone. But Calin can't take it any longer, throwing his love to the bed forcefully, putting Jebbin in a perilous situation he has no chance of skirting. The micro watches as the two lovers' bodies meet, eyes wide as saucers. He’s powerless, the Duke's cock head barreling straight for him. It flops against Annora's rapidly slickening undergarments, providing little resistance as he pops beneath Calin’s girth like a grape. Jebbin splatters against Calin’s cock, an unnoticeable red splotch across his smooth shaft. His stain is punctuated with tattered remnants of high fashion as the two eagerly grind against one another.

He’d risen from the shadow of his parents, building a small empire on grain, stocks, and armaments. He'd proved himself a worthy entrepreneur through hard work and toiling long hours! All of his life experiences culminated in a being a streak on another man's formidable member. It would be considerably humiliating had there been anybody to witness such a depraved twist of fate.

While Jebbin’s stain stays unnoticed and inconsequential, Zala, the Duke's very own sister, enters the fold, along with a housekeeper, and Zala’s close friend Yana. The three cling to the individual ridges along Annora’s full lips, small enough to get lost between the rises and falls that make her perverse expression. They can sense her arousal through body heat alone, blood pumping rapidly to her face. A furious blush adorns Annora's complexion, giving the tiny stowaways a genuine feel for the lust blanketing the air.

Zala closes her eyes tightly, the fast motion of giants scaring her with their unpredictable and expansive shapes. Why had she done it? Gone in on a dangerous pact with an untrustworthy hag! She'd promised Annora would be the only affected party! On paper, it seemed so simple. However, messing with magic never is quite as simple as it's made to be.

Silently praying, Zala begs her new gods for forgiveness. She recognizes the error of her ways! Now, if they'd only give her one more chance to make it right! But, they couldn't be less aware of the specks of dust hanging around Annora's mouth. They’re lost in a ritual as old as the kingdom itself: the consummation of joined matrimony. Pent up and passionate, their intense love for each other is on full display, creating a deadly landscape of twisting flesh for any caught in their whirlwind of desire.

Zala finally finds the courage to open her eyes, screaming out in conjunction with her companions of circumstance as a pair of lips rapidly approaches. All three of them are effortlessly thrown into Annora’s mouth as the giants embrace, Calin’s lower lip sweeping them up as mouths meet. A chaotic and sweltering sauna of spittle, sweets, and wine greets the trio with hostility. Her mouth is impossibly huge, a massive groaning cavern dripping from top to bottom with dense strands of saliva. However, cold air pours in readily from the outside despite the raging inferno. It's their only relief as the ladies find themselves affixed to her tongue, unable to pry their feeble forms from the thick fluids.

Annora moans outwardly, emitting a painful level of sound for any caught in between. The sister's vision blurs, and her ears ring as everything mashes into a singular screeching tone. Zala looks out, shocked as a tongue eagerly enters her sister-in-law's mouth. It penetrates the lips, forcing its way inside like an invasive serpent ready to strike. The Duke's sister can only whimper in awe of the mighty organ; her body stuck firmly between two taste buds.

The envious sister thinks of Yana almost wistfully. How awful she feels for putting her in this situation. Everything is her fault. She alone is responsible for the danger she’d put the entire procession in. Friends, acquaintances, and trusted family members were all thrust into peril because of her careless mistake. Guilt gnaws at her heart; how many are already dead? How much blood is on her hands? She has no way of knowing, too busy fighting for her own life.

The two muscles clash, molding around a terrified Yana. She’s tossed around like nothing more than a piece of food, thrown too and fro amidst powerful muscles. The posh woman tries to call out, hoping somebody will hear and rescue her from this torment. But it never happens; Annora’s tongue instead rears up and smacks atop her, killing Yana almost instantly. She’s brutalized, providing little resistance as she’s smeared across the very top of Calin’s taste buds, tearing her to pieces from force alone, snuffed out as the tongues forcefully greet one another. After being quickly pulped into indiscernible mush, she’s promptly washed away among two dancing muscles, all traces of her fading into obscurity. And her best friend is none the wiser, assuming and hoping against all odds she’s safe and sound.

The two titans had kissed before, of course. But not at this level. There’s vigor in each movement, every twist of their tongues filled with a strong sense of purpose. The lingering pulpy remains they'd crushed are jostled between them; the few lingering portions of Yana’s lifeless corpse are invicerated and smashed apart until nothing's left. The other two don't see it; the chaos is too dense to make out anything that isn’t directly in front of them.

Another prolonged and ear-shattering moan of satisfaction causes so much damage that Zala can't help but vomit. The noise of the couple's happiness reverberates around the fleshy walls as she continues to retch in misery. She steadies herself with shaky hands along an unstable surface, each breath feeling more precious than the last. The air is stifling, the moisture a dense wall enveloping her.

Further up among the turbulent motions of two lovers, she spots one of the other ladies dragged inside previously. The housekeeper! She reaches out longingly for someone to hold her. A shoulder to cry into and simply let go. This is too much for Zala to deal with alone, the emotional brunt of the constant trauma threatening to suck her dry. 

Only a moment after fully extending that shaky and tired arm, she watches with anguish as the tongues twist around each other, interlocking in fiery passion. Zala whimpers, her face going white as the girl ahead of her is caught right at the epicenter. Two unstoppable vehicles of destruction battle for dominance. An ocean of muscle weaves together, sweeping the helpless lady to her doom.

Her body rolls helplessly along impossibly large taste buds, bending in places limbs should never bend. There's primal brutality to the act; her body is mulched, the light gone from her eyes long before being washed away. The little caterers' mess is so insignificant that neither Calin nor Annora taste the hints of copper produced by her now nearly nonexistent form. In the blink of an eye, even what lingers after death is gone. Rinsed into nothingness by saliva as it swaps between lovers.

Zala repeatedly calls out her brother's name hysterically, to no reply. She's an uncontrollable mess, her clothing wet, and the typically immaculate hair she's known for is weighed down heavily by thick strands of Annora’s saliva. She collapses, heaving on staggeringly hot air between ragged sobs. It's overwhelming; her brain no longer able to handle the severity of the situation. Unknowingly shattering his sister’s psyche, Calin gives her a send-off, his tongue slamming against the top of his brides, splattering Zala brutally across two dimensions.

Outside the hellish landscape of her mouth, Annora squirms in anticipation as the Duke moves on from her lips, giving her chills as he touches her neck, teasing the girl into a fit as his mouth gets lower and lower, inching towards the more sensitive territory. He trails down her body, starting with her neck and gradually working his way to her chest with care. His smooth face traces an even softer body, each kiss eliciting chills throughout.

Meanwhile, a monstrous wall of flesh sneaks towards Tali, the skin beneath her breathing with life. She sits, huddled up in fear at the base of Annora’s breasts. She’d agreed to the wedding expecting to have fun! Her family was never the wealthiest, having nowhere near the other nobles' vast expanse of assets. Weddings were usually her only chance to socialize at candor with the fellow elites, but now? Those same people whose attention she pines for were running away in terror, their foe more ferocious than any dragon. The beast stops, lingering around the lady's chest for some time. Tali knows she should move, that she needs to move. But she can’t. Frozen in place, her best gown sweaty and wrinkled. Everything had gone so wrong.

             Calin finishes with Annora’s chest, a pleased groan uttered as he moves further across his lover's nude vista. He peppers a series of kisses across her neck and chest on the way down, sweeping several unlucky party-goers onto his lips. Their tiny bodies adhere to it firmly, a series of shouts released but ultimately going entirely unheard. He continues, only stopping to check that his wife is enjoying herself, her eyes painting a clear ‘yes.’

Tali herself can only shake as it gets closer. Eventually, she musters up the strength to address the forces above. “P-pl-please!” She squeaks out earnestly, but her plea is only met with the thunderous smacking of lips against smooth flesh. Soon she’s sucked ravenously into Calin’s mouth, a flurry of motion pulling her away from the lady Annora’s fair skin.

She's scooped up in a singular moment, thrown into the battlefield of a married couple's love. Suction takes her inside, adhering her to a sticky surface she doesn’t quite understand.

Their room is entirely silent, save for the occasional giggle on Annora's end and the gentle flickering of several candle flames. She’s breathless but somehow still finds the energy to be her tenacious self.

"Oh, so it seems the chef's array of desserts was not enough to satisfy?" She speaks cheekily as Calin gets lower and lower to her precious area.

"What chef could ever hope to make a pastry this satisfying?" Her husband retorts, looking up with a toothy grin. His smile’s confident, pearly white teeth practically sparkling as if he were from a fairytale. 

"Well, aren’t you just mmmm, adorable." She murmers, deep under his spell. The bride lays dainty hands upon his head, letting fingers glide through his smooth hair. Excitedly, she guides his mouth towards her insatiable lower lips. The time for talk has long passed. But the Duke sees no reason to rush the process. Targeting the sides of her crotch, he teases the idea of contact against her sensitive lips. 

Annora gasps at his tongue's delicate touch, lapping at her skin with unmatched skill. "Meanie…" she squeals in mock protest, craving the full force of his pink muscle against her dripping valley.

A whirlwind of unseen humans are spread around the area, some caught in the smooth canyon between her legs while others lay stuck to womanly lips, waiting for their turn to be mashed into warm meat. Most of them wail, sob, and scream. A din that happens to be loud enough that if the couple were to place their ears closely, they might just be able to discern the cacophony of panic.

Finally, after a prolonged and torturous bout of teasing, Calin makes his move, dragging his hard-working tongue from the bottom of her winking tunnel to the very top, prying open the soft skin protecting her pearl. He circles her bundle of nerves with grace, eliciting submissive whimpers brought on by waves of unbearable stimulation. A hurricane of sensations she has no hope of suppressing.

As the two prove their love from outside, Tali wriggles against a strong adhesive force, her eyes wide. Darkness is prevalent, but not complete. Although it should be obvious where she’s ended up, the chaos of the situation has fogged her perception immensely. Seemingly stuck amongst a sticky bumpy surface, she looks out at what little light shines through, seeing a bombardment of indecipherable shapes rapidly approaching. Her heart beats like a drum, but she’s too tired to shout or sob. Her eyes stay entirely dilated, waiting for what she feels will surely be the end of her life.

Tali’s view of what lay beyond suddenly expands, and it becomes frighteningly clear. She’s inside Annora’s mouth. Furiously she struggles with the last remnants of her strength, only now realizing she isn’t the only one thrust into this dismal position. Further ahead, a mass of warm bodies squirm in the hazy darkness, writhing and screaming with a nauseating pitch. Again, the view shifts, giving Tali full sight of the bride’s winking sex as Calin closes in on his target. There’s a moment of nearly deafening silence, providing the young girl with a precious few seconds to marvel in awe and horror.

Tali herself has no idea what may happen. The time she's afforded isn’t nearly long enough to ponder, and she lets out a loud gasp as the entire front of the tongue is dragged across Annora’s wet grooves. Men and women violently disappear in droves as the tongue takes its meandering route to the clit, screams getting quieter by the second as they’re subsequently snuffed out by forces they couldn’t ever hope to resist.

Her eyes drift, craning her head to the left as she identifies someone nearby. A young lady with an air of sophistication to her, close enough to touch if she wasn't weighed down by pounds of spittle. In a flash, it came back to her; they'd met at the party! It's a chance meeting and a miracle she even can see her well enough to start with. But there’s just enough light, and Tali is just close enough to read her face. The expression is wrought with confusion and pain, leg bent backward. Likely a direct injury from being forced inside the moist mouth.

              “Ida?” Tali screams, remembering the proper greeting she'd received earlier. But she gets no response. Perhaps she’d need to yell louder, “Ida!” The disheveled aristocrat looks over, taking a break from watching what will surely be her demise.

“Tali?” Tired eyes briefly light up before her face contorts, twisting into a grimace of unfiltered horror. “I-I’m scared!” Tali doesn’t speak, only sharing a glance of solidarity with the other girl caught in a similar situation. They were in the spider's web, waiting to be sucked dry.

People: Sons, mothers, sisters, and daughters. They all fall victim to Annora’s quivering mounds, lapped at by the girly Duke's talented tongue. A sensual act between two lovers. An innocent series of gestures turned into an unsurvivable genocide to those who dared show up to support a madly-in-love couple. Each speck on his tongue is a story full of chapters that will remain untold. Their current pages are about to end with a smear, as a husband shares his love.

Chapter End Notes:

Thanks for reading! The rest of the story will be released over the next week or so, but you can find the entire thing up for only $3 a month over on my patreon c:


Commission info is down below if you find yourself interested!


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