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Hypnorgasm
>> #414157
Posted on 2021-04-07 15:18:57
Score: 1 (vote Up)
Medium story by artist:
"Treasure," moaned the hero, as his legs slipped into the chest.

Yeah, that's right. He'd opened the chest, and found treasure. Not gold. Not riches. Not armor, or equipment, or enchanted jewelry. No. What he found inside of that chest was more enticing than any of that. So much more valuable than any material object.

All he did was glance into the mimic's eyes. The hero just had to glance into their eyes to feel his heart pound. Why was it pounding? He thought to himself, as his eyes idly eased downwards. Down onto the deep abyss that was the chest's "throat". Onto the slippery, slimy bath that was its tongue.

He felt his heart skip a beat. Buh-bump, buh-bump... Why? What was happening? Wasn't this a mimic? Wasn't the correct option to fight? He was supposed to fight, so why didn't he want to? It was his duty, his responsibility. Why couldn't he stop looking into that thick, pulsating throat?

The mimic's tongue curled outwards, and then slunk back. Momentarily, the hero's gaze had shifted. Was that a nonviolent gesture? What was the chest saying? Why wasn't it attacking? He looked into the throat again.

Oh.

It was an invitation. Inside. The hero was being invited inside.

No. That was silly. Who would willingly feed themselves to a mimic? Let alone such a handsome, warm, comfortable looking one... And it was rather welcoming, he thought, as he placed his sword onto the ground. But he had other things to do. He couldn't be going around feeding himself to exotic chests, just like that...

As he pressed his feet into the mimic's throat, the idea seemed goofy, but strangely fun. Had he ever thought about what it'd be like to just slip in? Let the monster eat him? What it'd be like for the hero to actually lose for a change? With all his accomplishments, and responsibilities slipping away, down into the monster's throat, along with him?

They had to admit, they never thought it would feel so relaxing. To just give themselves away like that. Like they were nothing more than a willing piece of meat. But it was downright liberating to feel that greedy tongue push him back, ease his legs further, and further down the throat.

Were they really doing this? It all seemed so sudden. But it was starting to feel impossible to push back up, and to be honest, they didn't want to. They deserved to be here. Slipping, deeper and deeper into a monster's belly. They had every right to give themselves to the monster. And wow, the chest's tongue was so much bigger than theirs. Yeah, why not take a break from being a hero?

Too late to take it back, thought the snack. But that was okay. They were a snack. Once they adjusted their mindset a little bit, it was easy to let themselves fall into the monster's control. Forget about resisting, or escaping. It entertained the idea of being food, and now it was. Not a hero. Not a savior. Just food. Slipping. Slipping deeper and deeper into the belly.

Its feet pushing into the goop. Its legs pushing into the goop. Its chest being caressed by the slippery throat walls around them. Its head being squeezed and toyed with by the same throat. Squishing it around like putty. It was putty. The mimic had every right to treat it like putty. After all, the chest claimed it like the food it was.

This was perfect. Just them, those slick, squishy walls, and a nice, soothing, goopy bath for him to relax in, so it could become fuel for the wonderful mimic's belly. The snack knew, after all: this was its calling. It was a good snack. Perfectly filling. Just so happy to please that strong, powerful chest. To allow itself to be treated like nothing more than food.

As it huddled into the belly, it couldn't help but giggle in joy.

This was its quest. Finally, it understood. No more defeating demon lords, dark lords, evil politicians, or breaking horrible curses. Monsters were wonderful. They wanted nothing more than for little snacks like yours truly to give itself to them. No more silly dreams of greatness. Delusions of superiority. This was the snack's biological purpose, and it was about to find complete fulfillment.

If there had ever been a moment in their life that the snack had been truly happy, this was it. Goop dripping onto their head. Sinking endlessly in, tucked into that stomach like a nice, warm blanket, the ooze glowing brighter, and brighter... Yeah. That's right. This was home.

Our little snack came in looking for treasure, and now, it'd never need to look again.
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