Harpy (Feet)
Angelfish. Got it. The second the bratty little angler told you what he wanted, you were out the door. You had a lot of fish to catch in order to get what you wanted, and so you hoped to get it done as quickly as possible. You had a system in place. Within a few hours of his request, you were almost always on your way back, fish wriggling in hand. You really needed that sextant, you know? You begin to climb the rope up to the nearest sky lake, dragging your golden fishing rod behind you, carrying egregious amounts of bait in your pockets.
About halfway up, a light blue feather whizzes past your face. Ugh, harpies again. They aren't usually a threat, at least not anymore with your fancy new armor, but they remain a persistent nuisance in your quest to gain rare fish for a child. You dodge and weave as you climb up the rope to space, easily evading their razor-sharp feathers. Suddenly, though, you're blindsided out of nowhere. Something big just hit you from behind, knocking you off the rope and sending you plunging to the ground. You're totally done for. You don't have wings yet!
But instead of falling to your doom, you feel something gripping your shoulders, lifting you up. You look to see one of the feathered menaces dragging you upwards to a nearby floating island. It looks more than just pissed off and stupid, like most of them do. This one looks... rabid. Wild, antsy, desperate. For what, you're about to find out.
You slam down onto the dirt of the island, the squawking of your raptor captor loud in your ears. Immediately, she grabs your helmet and rips it off, exposing your naked head to the thin air. Your physical strength fails you as she sits down onto your chest, unable to push her off as both of you scrambled to gain control. You attempt to cover your face with your hands to no avail as she pivots her terrifying, talon-like bird feet to your face, assuming she intends to shred it to pieces. Much to your surprise, however, is when instead of ripping your delicate face apart, she simply places her fleshy bird-like feet atop your nose, smothering you! You can still breathe, but the air you get is purposefully tainted by this freakish harpy.
For someone who spends all her time in the air, her feet sure are nasty. They smell like dust and mulch, and the stench of evaporated sweat is persistent and overbearing. She forces her fleshy bird toes(?) into your face, wriggling them side to side and rubbing them back and forth across your nose. The brief glances at her you get that aren't covered by nasty, dirty bird foot, you see the face of the harpy, looking deranged and carried away in some awful fantasy. What kind of fantasies these bird-brained monsters have, you don't even want to imagine. What's happening to you, though, you don't have to imagine as she rubs her talons all over your defenseless face.
Her fingers slip in and out of her c*nt, barely paying attention to what's going on in front of her, making bizarre squawking noises, and some that vaguely resemble human speech. Aren't they half-human, anyway? Who had sex with a bird?? Your line of questioning gets nowhere as she shoves her feet right up against your nostrils, forcing you to inhale her stench. You struggle and attempt to throw her off, but she remains promptly sat on your chest, masturbating to her heart's content and tormenting you with her toes. It's times like this you wished you picked melee instead of mage.
Suddenly, her movements get more frantic, and her feet become probing and aggressive. They attempt to pry open your mouth, which remains staunchly closed. That is until a razor feather makes its way to your ribs, jabbing at your ribcage under a clear threat of violence. She looks at you, returned to reality, and just as pissed as her comrades, but still way hornier. Nope. No way some random f*cking goon is making you their bitch. You've killed hundreds like her, and you have the banners to prove it!
Her threat is not empty, though, and you soon find yourself in sharp pain, the rigid, bladed feather puncturing your skin and digging its way into your insides. Lucky, since this is a game, that's not a big deal, but it still hurts a lot! You hold fast until she stabs it deeper, and begins twisting it around. That does it! You break and cry out in pain, opening your mouth just enough for her talons to slip inside. Now THAT'S dangerous. The claws on the tips of her toes are incredibly sharp, and she seems only half cautious of turning your throat to mincemeat. For now, though, it remains poking at the back of your mouth, your tongue suckling itr against your well. As expected, you can really taste the sweat now, the flavor outshining the mulchy, dusty taste that seems to be ever-present on all parts of her feet.
Her claws remain in your mouth until each bird toe(?) is suckled as clean as it possibly can be, given the circ*mstances. The freak harpy is close, but you can tell it won't be over until the other one is done. She shuffles it around, switching positions with her left foot, which is currently planted firmly over your nose and eyes, tainting each breath with foot sweat (and a healthy dose of humiliation. You're glad none of your NPC's live up here...) The 'clean' one soggily plaps onto your forehead, smearing your saliva all over it, and really sinking in how embarrassing this is. You repeat it reluctantly, motivation still embedded inside one of your kidneys. It'll grow back, it's fine.
She grinds back and forth as her fingers grow more rapid, and she leaks juice all over your armor. She coos rather gently actually as she 'encourages' you to continue, groaning in disgust as you force your tongue to pass over her dirty, disgusting soles. You repeat the process a few times, leaving the awful taste on your tongue for gods knows how long. As you finish up, she climaxes, gushing all over your chest and generally making strange noises. You could swear you heard her call you a bitch a few times... which you suppose is accurate, unfortunately.
She remains atop you as she winds down, mercifully taking her feet off of your face onto the ground below, completely ruining everything you just did. Oh well. She smiles at you and ruffles your hair, dismounting you and beginning to fly off to whatever harpies do when you're not around. You grab your magic missile off the ground nearby and launch one into the air. It homes in on her near-instantly and turns her into a pile of feathers. You walk over and pick up a feather and a chicken nugget off the ground. Well, that was an unpleasant experience. Time to catch that fish...
Lamia (Facesitting, fart stuff, co*ck stuff)
God, you f*cking hate this place. It's hot, full of sand (which is, as we know, coarse and rough, in addition to getting everywhere,) and worst of all, packed with goons at all times. Things have only gotten worse since you had defeated the Wall of Flesh, unleashing new, stronger enemies that could easily (and frequently did) tear you a new asshole. You just want a Bast Statue! But of course, things are never that simple.
You shut the desert chest, yet again empty-handed. This is like, your fifth one! You've been trudging through this sh*thole for hours now in search of that elusive, defense-increasing statue. You've heard of incredibly powerful mechanical monsters being unleashed into the world, and you figure you'll need the defense if you wish to fight them. You turn around and are not at all surprised to see an army of underground critters, all looking to f*ck you up. Corrupted desert spirits weave wicked explosive spells, antlions of all varieties rush you in a swarm while basilisks charge forward in hopes of ramming you. The nasty creatures they call ghouls hungrily lunge at you, in hopes of gaining a meal. You can feel an awful rumbling beneath the sandstone, too, a telltale sign that colossal dune splicer worms lay beneath. You clutch your spider staff and firecracker as you prepare for another battle.
You sigh and wipe your brow as your little spider buddies clamber back into your arms. That suuuuuuuucked. You really hate this place, but you're not leaving until you get that statue. At the very least, the battle is over for now. You pick your arm off the ground and collect scattered silver coins, pocketing a cool-looking lamp and some more ichor as well. That's pretty valuable, at least. If more than a bit disgusting...
You begin to walk through the caves again, sighing and resuming your search, but suddenly you're tackled out of nowhere! You have no time to summon your spider buddies as you are thrown to the ground at high speeds by an unknown assailant. It seems the battle's not quite over after all! You look to see dark red eyes and dark grey hair staring back at you, hissing and rattling. A Lamia! She looks very, very mad. Rather understandable, given what you just did to her compatriots. And you're pretty sure they're like that all the time, anyway.
Her serpentine tongue snakes out of her mouth, instinctively tasting the air around her. Her tail rattles, and she stares at you with intense malevolence. The end of it begins to wrap around your torso and arms, the whiplike ending merging seamlessly with her thicker lower half. And speaking of her thick lower half, it's abruptly exposed to you, letting you get a clear look at her large, jiggling, and scaly ass. You admit, their body is rather appealing. It's a shame all of them are evil. But that hasn't stopped you from taking a look or two while you cut them down…
However, this is much closer than you'd like. She smirks as she gets an idea of how to provide retribution. Her smile is very frightening, as it gives you a glimpse of her vicious-looking fangs. You hope those won't be used on you in a moment, but... It's looking pretty unlikely from where you're lying. She positions herself in such a way that most of her tail is underside-up, sprawling out onto your lower half. Her butt is atop your chest, slowly inching its way to your neck. This position seems very uncomfortable, but you suppose she’s used to not having legs. Her tail continues rattling idly, and she begins to undo the bottoms of your spider gear.
You can tell she’s relishing in the chance to avenge her allies. An exceptionally malicious grin rests firmly on her face as she slowly inches backward, bringing her rear ever closer to your face. She finally gets the hang of your armor, and slides it down your legs, much to your chagrin. Your breeches underneath come off as well, exposing your floppy member to the arid underground air. Yet again, you are left helpless by a monster so far beneath you that it’s embarrassing. This keeps happening!
co*ck well in reach, the lamia jumps to the main course without any warning, picking up her backside and dropping it onto your face. Immediately, you are hit by an awful scent. It smells like earthy, sweaty, unwashed ass, of course, but there's also the distinct and overbearing presence of rotten carcass, in addition to a piercing and incredibly violating musky scent that is unfortunately persistent. You figure this must be caused by some kind of anal scent glands, like other actual snakes have, except intensified and able to be released at will. The zoologist told you that. And you doubted that info would ever be useful!
She hisses again in sad*stic satisfaction while grinding her asshole into your nose. She lacks scales inside her crack, instead replaced by dark purple flesh. It's tainted with god knows what substances, probably some miserable cornucopia of sweat, dirt, and congealed glandular oils. Your nose is pushed right up into it, smearing the accumulated nastiness all over your face. You struggle and you moan and you thrash, but her weight keeps you pushed into the sand, completely at her mercy.
Her hands are free at the moment, so it stands to reason that she'd put them to work. Unfortunately, that work is punishing and torturing you. She investigates your dick, grabbing it with her hands. She tugs it, squeezes it, and caresses your balls. Her hands are dangerously clawed, but thankfully she hasn't turned your dick into lunch meat just yet. She acts with feigned surprise and curiosity as it inevitably rises at her ministrations, sporting quite a mast for someone who's having such an awful evening. You're sticky, sweaty, sandy, and uncomfortable, and yet your co*ck is having the time of its life.
She grinds upon your face, a mixture of sexual pleasure and sad*stic satisfaction likely providing some sort of high. Try as you might, the stench penetrates your resistances, eliciting yet more squirming accompanied by a pathetic whining. She accelerates her teasing, beginning to outright stroke your dick with unexpected finesse. Your mouth remains staunchly closed, though not for lack of trying on her part. Miscellaneous anal secretions are caked onto your lips, and what little has forced its way inside has ensured you that it should not be in there.
There's little warning for what comes next, save perhaps her twitching hole and a minuscule grumbling in her bowels. A good chunk of a lamia's diet consists of rancid, rotting meat; scavengers can't be picky, after all. Understandably, this wreaks havoc on their digestive system. This lamia has had a meal recently, brewing a tempest that rages in her guts that is desperate for release. She's happy to comply, the surprise guest of the night more than welcome in your torment.
With little fanfare, her asshole opens up to release a fart that buffets your sense of smell like a desert sandstorm. Your cry of surprise is drowned out by what can only be called a monster. It is incredibly loud and wet, gurgling and sputtering while pumping out an incredible volume of gas into your face. You aren't sure this is safe to breathe, honestly. Even her own body wanted it gone! But you don't get a choice in that matter, as it forces itself down into your nose and spews smog over the rest of your face, the rumbling vibrating your head. Oh, but the smell. It's the purest, most concentrated essence of rancid, fetid meat you could imagine, decay amplified by the desert heat. You reckon this is what the aftermath of a blood moon would smell like after a few weeks. But you know for a fact it's even worse than that.
It is, in a word, nauseating. You can't imagine the forces inside her stomach capable of making something like this. Your thrashing and kicking and flapping do nothing to relieve you of this hell. Try as you might, you're unable to excavate your nose from the pit of horrors it's found itself in. Above you, she cackles in unbridled glee, grabbing your head and ramming it into her crack, ensuring you both become well acquainted. She grabs your co*ck and roughly jerks you off, the pretense of subtlety dropped entirely as she capitalizes on the opportunity that's been presented. You buck and you writhe but her hand continues to glide up and down your length, lack of restraint quickly bringing you to the edge.
Your lungs feel like they’re trying to remove themselves from your body. Honestly, you’d prefer that to being here a second longer. Unfortunately, your wish isn’t granted, and she remains right in place. She’s grinning like a madwoman, her pearly-white, terrifyingly-sharp fangs glinting in the light. She’s grinding back and forth, the friction from her scales beginning to irritate your skin. Time seems to slow down as she brings to a climax, her hands moving wickedly fast with unprecedented coordination. The pressure in your loins builds, soon to be exploding out of you like a geyser. Unbeknownst to you, pressure is also building in her guts, discreetly preparing another superweapon, designed to be released at just the right moment. You’re still reeling from the last one, but she’s looking to make the most of her time with you.
Lihzahrd (f*ck that spelling)
(Deepthroat, ass worship)
When the great plant beast of the underground jungle spit out that key, you knew exactly where it fit. The great stone temple loomed in stark contrast to the rest of the environment. There was a door, but no matter what you did, it remained frustratingly inaccessible. There was a keyhole, but you had no idea where you’d find such a key. Until now. And true enough, the dusty stone door opened, letting a human step foot into the ancient temple for the first time in hundreds of years, at least.
It was pitch black, and you kept cautious. Who knew what kind of things live in here? Not to mention the traps, which you'd evaded three times already (and walked straight into at least once.) You breathed in the stale air as you carefully wandered through the dark halls, which were suspiciously empty. Where are the monsters? There are always deadly, bloodthirsty monsters. Especially in a place like this.
The bad feeling in your gut only intensified the deeper you went. There was definitely something going on, and you didn't like it. But you descended regardless, determined to find what warranted all this protection at the heart of the temple. Your torch flickered and crackled as you paid attention to the grand stone arches, and the carvings in the walls, and the living areas of the mysteriously absent inhabitants.
What you failed to notice was a simple pressure plate on the ground. The same kind that you'd already seen countless times and disarmed. Nevertheless, your foot slammed down on it, releasing darts that sunk themselves through your armor into your back, releasing their narcotic payload near instantly. You stuttered and struggled to keep your balance for a few seconds, scarcely comprehending what had just hit you. Then the drugs took hold, and you fell like a log to the stone floor, out cold.
And now, here you are. Staring up into the darkness, aches all over, and the awful feeling that you're not alone. You also can't help but notice that you're mostly naked, which is markedly more concerning. Your life means almost nothing, but your gear took you quite a while to farm! You try and fail to get to your feet, when your assailants reveal themselves from the shadows, all dramatically. That doesn't seem necessary. All at once, they make a reverberating, overwhelming hissing sound. That doesn't bode well for you...
They seem to be some kind of lizardfolk. Their scales are shiny and green, and they possess large, thick tails. Some wear colorful clothing, possessing many trinkets and talismans, and some wear simple leather vests and pants. Many don't wear clothes at all, exposing their bare chests and genitalia. All of them encroach on you rather slowly, with some of the more impatient ones gently held back by their kin. You can't seem to move at all, or at least with any efficiency. You can move your hands and legs, but you feel sluggish and there's no chance you can walk. Whatever they intend to do to you, you're at their mercy.
The more eager ones get to you first, co*cks already half-hard, scrabbling to you with a malignant glint in their eyes. Ah. You understand now. Honestly, that's not the worst thing that could happen to you, but you'd still rather be somewhere else right now. But, like most of your stuff, your magic mirror is in a pile in a different room. You have no choice in the matter as your mouth is pried open by a dirty, green clawed hand, exposing your mouth to your assailants. You don't dare to bite down, though you could. You aren't much in the mood to get eviscerated. His skinny green fingers are quickly replaced by his rather modestly sized dick, which enters your mouth with little resistance, sliding across your tongue and poking at the back of your throat. Your jaw stretches ever wider, in a manner that will surely cause problems later.
Right now, though, you're only focused on the salty, dirty, musky taste of his co*ck at rest in your mouth. He stares down at you, mind clouded by self-serving lust. His eyes are large and intense, and his slitted pupils are making direct eye contact. His hands grasp the back of your head, ensuring that you'll remain in place for your imminent throatf*cking. He starts relatively slowly, spearing your gullet with one decisive thrust. Your stomach turns as your gag reflex is ruthlessly violated, but you take his co*ck to the base, attempting to voice protest but finding your throat plugged by his foreign object.
He backs up, dick receding back into the cavity of your mouth. You can breathe again, but not for long. It seems he was only testing the waters. You wiggle your fingers and legs desperately, attempting anything to free yourself from his grasp. Perhaps were you at full capacity you might have a chance, but as it is, you're completely helpless to become this lizardfolk's cumdump. His claws dig into the back of your skull, making you wince, but not as much as what happens next.
His hips buck forward, plunging his member back into your throat, and cutting off access to air yet again. He begins to pump back and forth, natural instincts propelling his dick in and out of your throat. It isn't long before you get your first taste of thin, salty precum. It seems this one is rather backed up. Unsurprising, considering how much of a rush he was in to access your mouth. He starts to get into a rhythm, humping against your face and releasing bestial groans. Breathing is a luxury you can no longer afford as he seeks to make the most of his time with you.
Precum production spikes as he quickly reaches his climax, moist slapping and gurgling now filling the air as he ruts with unrestrained lust, using you simply as a tool to meet his needs. The back of your head is definitely bleeding a little bit with how hard he's grasping your head. You're definitely starting to get a bit woozy now, and your lungs desperately crave air. His latest thrust is punctuated with a raw, passionate groan and shivering throughout his whole body. Your nose is squished against his mound, his entire co*ck somehow in your mouth. It begins to spurt cum, sticky and gloopy and thick, pumped directly down your throat, coating your gullet in his sticky seed. He shoots out more cum than you've ever seen in your life. Either he was *really* backed up, or these lizardfolk are just like that.
You squirm, but he holds you in place as he empties himself. With one last squirt onto your tongue, he pulls himself out of your abused oral cavity, a job well done. His job, anyway. Your job isn't nearly done yet. He gets off of you, rejoining the furiously masturbating crowd around you and slipping off to take a nap somewhere. You flop down onto the ground, attempting to regain control of your esophagus. Your head hurts and you heave to get air into your lungs. Your vision gradually clears as you're no longer being deprived of oxygen. For now, anyway. Your short rest period promptly ends as another lizard enters your vision.
In this case, dominates most of your vision. Standing above you is a very impatient-looking reptilian lady, who has clearly been waiting far too long for your services. She wears ostentatious-looking clothing, suggesting that she holds a position of influence among the community. She has cast off all lower-body clothing, exposing to you her shapely, muscled ass and a fat, juicy tail. Her thick legs tower on either side of you, and you suspect a kick from her could do some serious damage. Her throat thrums and grumbles in anticipation, likely looking forward to this just as much as your previous 'client.'
She begins to squat, showcasing just how defined her muscles are and giving you quite the view of her winking butthole. Her crack is dirty and clammy, confirming these lizardfolk aren't too keen on bathing. She slowly lowers her ass, getting closer and closer to your battered face, and amplifying the earthy musk you could already smell before. It descends upon you, unstoppable and inevitable. Once it reaches your face, she drops the act and takes a seat on your face, smushing your face under all of her mass in an instant, smothering you under nasty, scaly, jiggly lizard ass meat.
Her weight makes sure you'll be doing whatever she wants of you, without any complaints. Not for lack of trying, though. Your lamentations inside of her dark, steamy asscrack come out as pathetic muffled moans. You can't see it, but she's smirking in an incredibly smug manner. It was already humiliating getting violated earlier, but becoming a helpless chair for whatever passes for lizard royalty is beyond embarrassing. It gets worse when you consider the large crowd around you, all intently watching your torment and getting off at your misfortune.
But of course, you're not done yet. She readjusts, moving her asshole from its former passionate embrace with your nose to waiting at the entrance of your mouth. You can still taste his cum, and your tongue is already under assault again. It puckers and twitches, almost as if it's expecting you. The thought makes you cringe, especially because it's probably true. Her claws are especially sharp, likely to be used as a weapon if needed. Right now, though, they're especially effective as a persuasion tool, jabbing your stomach and threatening to draw blood. Even after all you've been through, you'd rather not die. Getting sliced to ribbons would probably hurt a lot!
And as such, you grudgingly comply with what you assume is what she'd like you to do, which is opening your mouth. You'd rather not, considering what it *smells* like, but you obviously don't get a choice. She moves in closer, landing her pucker in your mouth with flawless accuracy. As expected, you hate it. It's earthy and musky, and you can taste the remnants of many days of dried sweat and grime that she hasn't bothered to clean. You wouldn't expect a race of lizardfolk that live deep underground to be too serious about cleanliness, but it would at least be appreciated.
She jabs you again with her claw, prompting your tongue to rise to action. It very nearly withers away when it comes into contact with her asshole, amplifying the taste tenfold and adding an awful slimy, greasy, and grimy texture that makes you rethink your position on death as an alternative. A deep thrumming in her chest acts as an affirmative, that you are indeed doing what she wants. And will continue doing so for at least a little while. You lick the area around her hole, gradually 'cleaning' the bodily concoction that surrounds it.
There's an awful combination of fluids in your stomach, but you can't stop now. She forces you to lick her 'clean' for what feels like an eternity before she's satisfied. By the time she is satisfied, your mind is numb and your tongue is sore. You have a brewing stomach ache, and you doubt it'll get any better. She gets off of you, allowing you your first breath of fresh air in what feels like forever. You thank the gods for the chance to breathe even this stale, dusty temple air.
She stares down at you, and you can see the domineering aura of smugness on her face before she smirks at you and struts off. Near instantly, another lizardfolk takes her place, having their way with you. This continues for hours, with a whole myriad of awful torment. Almost every f*cked up sexual practice you can think of is performed on you, their unwilling doormat, c*mslu*t, asslicker, and fart sucker. With the last antsy reptilian finally satisfied, your job here is done. You are battered, bruised, filled with many kinds of fluid, and bone tired. You pick up your gear once you regain fine motor control and head back up through the way you came, not even bothering to find out what was at the end.
Medusa (Facesitting, almost farts but I gave up before I wrote that part)
You'd heard the marble caves were beautiful, and you're inclined to agree. You came here to snag some marble for a build, but you decided to admire the natural beauty for as long as you can before you're assailed by god knows what. Of course, you don't get to for very long. A javelin soars past your face, accompanied by some mean-sounding snarling. To your left is some kind of skeleton, clad in strange, ancient-looking armor. It's not alone, though, and soon you're under fire by a hail of throwing spears.
You're quick to act, cracking your whip at one of them, clattering its bones all over the floor, and easily dispatching it. To your dismay, another one quickly takes its place, making it clear that you're up against an army. You bring out your spider buddies and prepare for an extended battle with an ancient phalanx, deep under the earth. There's a lot of them, but it's nothing you can't handle.
A while later, many bits of armor and scattered and broken bones litter the marble floor, and there are no skeletons left standing. You have a few spears sticking out of your shoulder, but you're sure you'll be fine. Your spiders are exhausted, the fight was just as hard for them as it was for you. With that over with, hopefully, you shouldn't be bothered in your marble gathering endeavors for a little while.
Or at least, that's what you had hoped. When you turn your head, you're faced with yet another adversary. It seems to be some kind of woman, dressed in strange, flowing garb with pale green skin. Oh yeah, and she's got snakes for hair. They wriggle around, hissing and flicking their tongues out. Some bicker and fight with each other, showing that they are very much independent beings. One thing's for sure, though. And that's when she sees you, they all stop what they're doing at once, and begin to stare at you.
She seems rather surprised. Or pissed. Probably both. Her eyes widen, and she begins to sprint at you much faster than one would expect. You're caught off guard and fumble for your weapons. Before you can grab them, though, her eyes begin to flash, and her snakes start freaking out, releasing pulses of blinding light from their mouths and writhing relentlessly. She screams, releasing a piercing noise and flicking her serpentine tongue out of her mouth.
And just like that, your muscles begin to slow to a crawl, getting harder and harder to move until eventually, you can't move them at all. You're frozen in place as if your body were made of stone. And judging by the way your hands have become rough and gray, it is! Your eyes wiggle back and forth frantically, about the only thing you can move. You can feel your extremities just fine, but try as you might, they don't budge an inch. You've become more or less trapped inside your own body.
And of course, there's still the issue of the snake lady charging at you at full speed. Her snake legs (snegs) carry her across the cave in only a few seconds, barreling towards you. When she arrives, she shows no intention of slowing down, instead opting to ram into you at Mach 2. And ram into you she does, impacting you with so much force it dazes you and rattles your brain, in addition to almost certainly breaking a few ribs. She basically just tackled a statue. That probably hurt a lot, but she doesn't seem to mind. You're just glad you didn't shatter into a million pieces when you toppled over.
She lies atop you, staring into you intently and catching her breath. Her snakes are pretty out of it, slouching lazily with some just outright unconscious. You figure it takes a lot out of them to petrify someone. You get a good look at her face from here, with her nearly directly above you and all. Her eyes are sunken into her skull, and she has dark bags beneath them. Her face is chiseled, with a prominent cheekbone and hollowed cheeks. From her face alone, you'd think she was malnourished, but that clearly isn't the case, as the rest of her body is quite well muscled.
Even when inactive, her large yellow eyes seem to pulse and ripple with latent energy. It's clear to you that they hold very potent magic, and they're quite mesmerizing to look at. Not that you could look at anything else if you wanted to. She pants heavily, recovering her breath and admiring her newest catch. She ensures that you are fully petrified by taking a claw to your forearm, slicing a small gash, and causing blood to well up from it. It hurts a lot, of course, but you can't move or react at all. Perfect.
It seems though your skin resembles stone on the surface, it is still very much flesh, and capable of movement. Just not controlled by you. She smirks, and her fanglike incisors prominently display among all of her other needle-like teeth. This is by no means a friendly smile, and her eyes flash with a malignant glint. Some of her snakes seem to regard you as prey, stalking you and keenly watching you. Of course, rooted to a scalp as they are, they probably couldn't hurt you much. The one they're attached to, on the other hand...
She sits up, the heaving of her chest lessening and her breathing stabilizing. She straddles your abdomen and it's clear now that she towers over you, especially from where you're lying on the ground. Her legs are very sturdy and defined, and they're quite a bit thicker than your neck. You suspect this is from a lifetime of chasing and tackling her enemies, and it seems to be working pretty well so far, considering the sheer speed she came at you with. Before she seemed desperate and caught off guard, but now you see that she's a sad*stic monster, intent to dish out revenge and dominate your body.
It seems the party has started. She quickly begins to disrobe. You suppose that’s one of the benefits of wearing clothing like hers. She grabs the bit on her shoulder with one hand and unwraps it, casting it off in a display that only takes a few seconds at most. Before your very eyes, her chiseled (heh) body is on full display to you. Rock-solid (heh) abs as expected, accompanied by some plush breasts that stand in contrast to the rest of her muscled body.
Her thighs could probably crush your skull if she wished. You wouldn’t doubt that she’s done that exact thing in the past with previous victims, and you can only hope that you won’t become her most recent. She’s probably still mulling it over, switching herself around so her sculpted (heh) ass, dimples and everything, is front-and-center. You’re starting to consider whether she’s actually a sculpture that came to life. With everything you’ve seen, it wouldn’t be too outrageous, and there’s quite a bit of evidence to support it. Of course, you aren’t here to speculate on her origin.
What you ARE here for isn’t quite clear, but what is is that you’ll do anything she wants. She grabs your lifeless head by the hair and lifts it up, She swiftly brings her rear back, bringing it much closer to your face than you’d like. She clutches the back of your head and shoves it into her crack, nose slotting in without a hitch. You’re immediately met with an awful scent, that is both dusty and possesses the immensely overpowering odor of decay and fermenting fish. The unexpectedly powerful and rank miasma amidst her nether regions is likely deliberate, and an intensely humiliating way to display dominance.
And display dominance she does. She grinds her crack back and forth, plastering you with her scent and dragging your lifeless head along for the ride. You go back and forth many times over, though your nose never leaves the embrace of your captor’s anus. She only stops when an opportunity presents itself. A rather inevitable opportunity, unfortunately. Her abdomen begins to churn and make awful grumbling noises. This isn’t your first rodeo- you know what that means. But just because you’re familiar with this by now does not mean that it’s welcome.
