A dark tale of my wife’s perfect orgasm. Read at your own risk! Very long
Jamie watched from the armchair, his breath already shallow, as Sarah yanked Amber into the living room by a fistful of that long blonde hair. His tiny wife stumbled on four-inch stripper heels, her big blue eyes glassy before the first pill even hit her throat.
“Open up, you little cocksleeve,” Sarah cooed, pressing a white tablet between Amber’s lips. Amber swallowed without a fight, tongue licking Sarah’s fingers like a grateful puppy. Sarah laughed and shoved her down onto the coffee table, spreading Amber’s legs in a micro-skirt that barely covered her bare pussy. No panties. Of course.
“See that, Jamie?” Sarah lifted Amber’s chin, forced her to look at him. “Your precious little wife is already wet. Getting high makes her a good little pain slut, doesn’t it?”
Amber nodded, eyelids fluttering as the drug melted through her veins. “Yes… yes, Miss Sarah.”
“She’s gonna get fucked so hard tonight. You know that, right? You’re going to sit here and wait like a good cuck while strangers use her holes.” Sarah grabbed a cheap fishnet top and pulled it over Amber’s tiny tits, then sprayed her neck with cheap perfume. “There. A trashy whore for the club.”
Jamie couldn’t speak. His cock was already half-hard against his jeans as Sarah dragged his giggling, drooling wife out the door.
Three hours later, Sarah returned, entering the apartment alone, a sly smile on her face. She threw a USB stick onto the couch. “Time for show-and-tell, Jamie. Get your little dick out.”
He obeyed, fumbling with his zipper as Sarah opened the laptop. The screen flared to life: a low-angle shot, blurry with strobe lights and smoke. Amber was on her knees in a filthy dark room, three men surrounding her. Her pretty face was slick with tears and mascara, but she was smiling—slack-jawed, drugged, obedient.
“Who’s a good little cum dumpster?” Sarah narrated as the video played.
On screen, one man grabbed Amber’s hair and forced his thick cock between her lips. She gagged, spit dribbling down her chin, but she took it, slobbering and sucking because she was too high to resist. A second man crouched behind her, spread her ass cheeks, and drove his dick into her pussy with a wet squelch. Amber squealed, a tearful whimper muffled by the cock in her mouth.
“Look at her take it,” Sarah whispered, and Jamie’s hand moved faster on his small, thin shaft. He watched his wife jerk and bounce as the first man came all over her face, painting her blonde hair with ropes of cum. The second man grunted, pulled out, and shoved his cock into her ass. Amber screamed—a raw, broken sound—but her hips pushed back to meet him.
“She’s loving it,” Sarah said, grabbing Jamie by the jaw to force him to watch. “Your little wife is a born gangbang whore.”
The video ended with Amber on her back on the sticky floor, her tiny body splattered with cum, her eyes rolled back, muttering “thank you” again and again. The camera zoomed in on her gaping, pink, dripping cunt.
Sarah closed the laptop and pulled up a website on her phone. “Now, read the comments, Jamie. Out loud. And don’t you dare stop jerking.”
The first comment scrolled across the dark page: “Little cunt deserves worse. I’d break that ass in half.”
Jamie swallowed, voice cracking. “L-little cunt deserves worse. I’d break… that ass in half.”
Next one: “Someone needs to take her home and keep her. Slut should be bred like a dog.”
He read it. Then another: “Her husband’s a beta cuck. I’d cum in both her holes while he prays.”
Jamie whimpered, but his hand kept stroking. His skin flushed as Sarah laughed, whispering, “Look at you—jerking your tiny dick while strangers talk about using your wife. You’re pathetic. She’s pathetic. You two deserve each other.”
At that moment, the front door clicked open. Amber stumbled in, her dress torn, thighs streaked with dried cum, bruises blooming on her cheeks from being slapped around. She looked at Jamie, then at Sarah, and smiled emptily. “I was a good girl, Miss Sarah? Did I make you money?”
Sarah stroked her hair. “You made me a lot of money, sweetheart. Now go shower. Tomorrow, we have something special planned.”
Amber nodded and shuffled to the bathroom, and Jamie’s hand slowed, still pulsing, still helpless. He knew he wouldn’t stop her. He never could.
Sarah knelt in front of him, pinching the wet head of his little cock. “And you’re going to watch every second of it,” she murmured, “and thank me after.”
The next evening, Sarah had Jamie set up the camera on a tripod in the garage, her voice sharp and commanding. “You’re going to want a good angle for this one, cuck. Make sure you can see her face. And the mess.”
Jamie’s hands trembled as he adjusted the lens, his eyes darting to the padded bench in the center of the cold concrete floor. Amber was already there, sitting naked on the edge, her petite body trembling like a leaf. A two inch wide leather collar was buckled tightly around her neck, and Sarah was strapping her ankles to metal rings on the legs of the bench.
“Please, Miss Sarah,” Amber whispered, her voice small and shaky. “I—I don’t—”
Sarah grabbed her chin, forcing those big blue eyes up. “You don’t what, sweetheart? You don’t want to be a good girl? You don’t want to make me more money? You don’t want the whole world to watch you get bred like the little bitch you are?”
Amber’s lips quivered. “I… I want to be good.”
“That’s right.” Sarah kissed her forehead, almost tenderly. “Now lie back. Spread your legs for me.”
Amber obeyed, her body sinking into the padded bench as Sarah strapped her wrists down to the sides. Her arms were stretched out, her tiny tits rising and falling with rapid breaths. Her bare pussy was pink and glistening, already wet from the fear and the drugs Sarah had fed her an hour ago.
The crowd filed in through the garage door—men and women, mostly strangers, some regulars from the dark website who’d paid a premium to watch live. They circled the bench like vultures, murmuring and laughing, phones out to capture their own angles.
“Look at that sweet little thing,” a heavy man with a beard sneered. “She’s gonna get split in half.”
Amber whimpered, her eyes darting to the back of the garage where Sarah was leading something on a chain. It was a massive dog—a rottweiler mix with a broad chest and thick, muscular hindquarters. Its tongue lolled, and its heavy cock was already sliding out of its sheath, thick and red and intimidating.
“No, no, please—” Amber’s voice cracked, and she tugged weakly at her wrist straps. “Miss Sarah, I can’t—it’s too big—”
Sarah grabbed her by the hair, yanking her head back. “Shut up and take it, you worthless pain slut. This is what you’re for. This is what you’ve always been for.”
The dog sniffed the air, drawn to the scent of her wet cunt, and padded forward. The crowd parted, their voices rising with excitement.
“Come on, boy!” a woman shouted, clapping her hands. “Fuck that little bitch!”
“Get her! Rip her open!”
The dog mounted the bench, its front paws landing on either side of Amber’s hips. Its heavy weight pressed down on her, crushing her tiny frame. She screamed, a raw, terrified sound that cut through the noise of the crowd.
“Please, no! Get it off me!”
But Sarah just smiled and adjusted the camera, zooming in on Amber’s face. “Smile for the viewers, sweetheart. They’re watching. They’re always watching.”
The dog’s cock slid against her wet folds, slick with her fear and arousal, and then it shoved inside. Amber’s scream turned into a choked sob as the long, thick shaft stretched her. Her eyes rolled back, her mouth open in a silent wail as the dog’s hips began to piston, hard and fast.
“Look at that!” the bearded man roared. “She’s taking it! Look at her little cunt stretch!”
Amber’s body jerked with each violent thrust. Her legs, spread wide, tethered tight, trembled helplessly as the dog’s balls slapped against her ass. She tried to push at its chest with her bound hands, but her fingers barely reached, and the dog snapped its jaws, biting down on her forearm.
She screamed again, a high, desperate sound. The dog bit harder, drawing blood, then released and latched onto her other arm, shaking her like a ragdoll while its cock hammered deeper inside her.
“Harder!” a man shouted, stepping closer. “Bite her again. Get her throat!”
“Show her who owns her!”
Amber’s tears streaked her face, her blonde hair tangled and matted. She couldn’t think anymore—the drugs, the pain, the relentless fucking had dissolved her mind into a single point of surrender. Her hips began to move with the dog’s rhythm, her body betraying her.
“Look at that,” Sarah whispered, kneeling beside the bench and stroking Amber’s hair. “You’re taking it like a good little bitch. The whole world is watching you get knotted.”
The dog grunted, its pace quickening, its knot swelling at the base of its cock. When it slammed in, the knot caught inside her, locking them together. Amber sobbed, her belly visibly swelling as the dog began to pump. Thick, hot streams of semen flooded her womb, filling her small body until her stomach was bloated and tight.
“God, look at her belly!” a woman squealed, pointing. “She’s full! She’s fucking full!”
The dog stayed locked for what felt like forever, grunting and pulsing, emptying load after load into her. Amber’s hands, raw and bitten, lay limp at her sides. Her eyes were glassy and unfocused, her mouth slack, a stream of drool running down her chin.
When the knot finally released, the dog pulled out with a wet, sucking sound, and a river of thick white semen spilled out of her gaping cunt, pooling on the bench beneath her. The crowd erupted in cheers and laughter.
“Someone get a mop!” the bearded man hollered, and the room filled with cruel, mocking laughter.
Sarah shut off the camera and pulled out her phone, showing Amber’s ruined face the live feed. “See that? Four hundred and thirty-two viewers watched you get bred. And look at what they’re saying.”
She read the comments aloud, her voice dripping with delight: “‘Filthy little cunt deserves ten more dogs.’ ‘Her husband is a pathetic waste of skin.’ ‘I’d cum inside her next.'”
Amber’s only response was a weak, broken whimper.
Back at home, Jamie was hunched over his laptop, his pants around his ankles, his small cock in his fist. He’d watched every second of the live feed, his eyes glued to the screen as the dog mounted his wife, as she screamed, as her belly swelled.
“Fuck… fuck…” he panted, stroking faster, his other hand gripping the armrest. He was watching his own wife get brutally raped by an animal, and he was leaking precum like a faucet.
The comments scrolled past, each one more vicious than the last, and Jamie read them aloud to himself, his voice cracking. “‘Her husband’s a worthless cuck. I’d breed his mom next.'”
He didn’t stop. He couldn’t stop. His body trembled as his orgasm built, and when he came, it was weak and thin, barely a spatter on his stomach. He slumped back in the chair, panting, his eyes still fixed on the screen where Sarah was now pushing two, three then four fingers into Amber’s swollen, overflowing cunt.
“Thank you, Miss Sarah,” Amber tried to say on the video, her voice hollow and broken. “Thank you… thank you…”
Sarah looked straight into the camera, a cruel smile curling her lips. “You’re welcome, sweetheart. And there’s more coming. So much more.”
Jamie sat in the dark living room, his laptop open on the coffee table, the screen flickering with the tail end of the barn footage—Amber’s ruined, swollen cunt still leaking the dog’s thick cum while Sarah laughed and played with her like a broken toy.
He was half-hard in his sweatpants, his eyes glassy, when Sarah stormed through the front door, her phone in her hand and murder on her face.
“Fucking idiots,” she hissed, scrolling furiously with her thumb. “Forty-two members dropped this week. Forty-two. The perverts want something new. They’re bored of the same old shit.”
Jamie flinched, shrinking into the couch. “I—I can post more comments—maybe I can—”
“You can shut the fuck up,” Sarah snapped, not even looking at him. She paced for a minute, teeth grinding, then stopped. Her eyes lit up with something dangerous. “No. I need the ultimate video. The one nobody ever forgets. The one that puts us back on top.”
Jamie’s mouth went dry. He’d heard that tone before. It always ended with Amber screaming.
Three days later, Sarah shoved Amber into the back seat of her car. Amber was dressed like a whore—a cheap red vinyl mini dress that barely covered her ass, fishnet stockings, and six-inch clear heels that made her wobble. Her long blonde hair was teased into a messy pile, her big blue eyes already glassy from the pills Sarah had crushed into her soda.
“Where are we going?” Amber asked, her voice small, childlike.
Sarah glanced in the rearview mirror and smiled. “To meet a lady. She’s going to make you a fucking superstar.”
The house was in a crumbling part of the city, a narrow brick row home with boarded windows and a rusted gate. Inside, the air smelled of stale cigarettes and antiseptic. A shorter old woman met them at the door—wrinkled, white-haired, with dark eyes that had seen too much. She wore a stained lab coat over a ragged floral dress.
“This is Dr. Voss,” Sarah said, pushing Amber inside. “You’re looking at one of the most notorious former gynecologist this city has ever heard of. Back in the day, when she was a licensed gynecologist with her own private clinic—she got into a little legal trouble. Two of her patients died. Dr. Voss liked to perform experiments, ain’t that right Doctor,” Sarah said with a wicked grin. “When I called her, she assured me that she could do things that would raise the bar concerning your videos, baby,” Sarah said stroking Ambers blonde hair lovingly.
Dr. Voss spoke with a thick Russian accent. “The courts weren’t so nice to me, darling—second-degree murder, malpractice, plus a pile of sexual abuse charges from patients I’d ‘treated.’ Those bastards gave me Twenty-five years in a women’s prison upstate. I did twenty-two of them, and when I got out, darling, I came straight back here to continue doing exactly what I love,” Dr. Voss explained.
Dr. Voss cackled, running a gnarled hand down Amber’s arm. “Prison just sharpened my skills, darling. Nothing like an unsupervised infirmary full of desperate women to keep your hands steady. Such a pretty little thing. Let’s get her ready.”
They led Amber into a room, an old dilapidated, filthy examination room. A well worn gynecological table sat in the center, its stirrups rusted and stained. Bright lights hung above it, and a large monitor was carelessly mounted on the wall beside it. Amber’s heels clicked on the linoleum as she stumbled.
“Please,” Amber whimpered, her voice barely audible. “I don’t feel so good.”
Sarah grabbed her by the hair and yanked her head back. “You feel perfect, sweetheart. You feel like a million bucks.” The doctor pulled out a syringe from her filthy lab coat, the liquid inside clear and deadly.
Amber’s eyes widened. “No—not that—please, not that—”
Doc held the syringe up and tapped the air out of it. “Twenty-two years inside taught me exactly how to find a vein even on a squirming, whimpering little thing like you. Hold her still, dear.”
Sarah forced Amber down onto the exam table while Dr. Voss swabbed her inner arm with alcohol. Amber struggled weakly, but she was too small, too drugged, too used to being overpowered. Dr.Voss slid the needle into her vein, and Amber cried out, her body going rigid before a wave of warmth washed over her face. Her eyes fluttered, then glazed over, a slow, dreamy smile spreading across her lips.
“There she is,” Sarah whispered, stroking Amber’s cheek. “There’s my good girl.”
Dr. Voss cackled sinisterly and moved to the foot of the table. They lifted Amber’s legs aggressively, wrestling them into the high stirrups, strapping her ankles in place with leather cuffs. Her red dress was bunched up around her waist, her bare, shaved pussy exposed and glistening. Then they cranked the back of the table up, forcing Amber into a sitting position. Her head lolled, but Sarah grabbed her chin and held her face toward the table’s foot.
“No falling asleep, sweetheart. I want you to watch every second of this.”
Amber blinked slowly, her pupils tiny pinpricks. “W-watch?”
Dr. Voss positioned the bright examination light directly on Amber’s exposed cunt, the heat washing over her skin. She picked up a clear plastic speculum from a tray, its metal hinges gleaming.
“This will help us see all the way inside that tight little hole,” Dr. Voss said, her voice raspy. “I’ve opened up hundreds of cunts over the years darling—some of them never walked the same after. Open wide.”
Amber whimpered, but she was too high to fight. Doctor Voss aimed the speculum and slid and twisted it into her dry entrance, the cold plastic making her jerk. Then she began to crank. The blades spread slowly, inexorably, stretching Amber’s pussy open from the inside. Amber’s body arched, a sick, sharp cry tearing from her throat.
“Stop—stop—it hurts—it hurts!” she sobbed, her hands scrabbling uselessly at the table edges.
Sarah laughed, leaning in close with her phone, recording every detail. “Don’t stop, Doc. Open her up more. Look at that little hole stretching.”
Dr. Voss cranked another turn, and Amber screamed through clenched teeth. The speculum was fully open now, her inner walls spread wide into a dark, glistening tunnel. Dr. Voss positioned a small pin sized camera on a gooseneck stand and pushed it between the blades, the lens sliding inside Amber’s exposed cunt. On the large monitor, the image flickered to life—the pink, ridged walls of her vagina, pulsing faintly, and at the end, a small, puckered opening: her cervix.
Sarah gasped in delight. “Oh my God, look at that. You can see all the way to her womb.”
She grabbed Amber’s chin again, forcing her glassy eyes to the screen. “You see that, you little whore? That’s your insides. That’s what every man who pays gets to see before he fucks you. That’s your fucking value.”
Amber stared dopily at the monitor, her lips parted, drool running down her chin. A low, broken moan escaped her, and her hips twitched—whether from pain or the drugs, even she didn’t know.
Dr. Voss adjusted the camera, zooming in tighter, the image of Amber’s cervix filling the screen. “She’s a natural, Sarah. Clean as a virgin. Can you imagine a baby coming right through that tiny hole. My hands lost their mercy years ago, but they haven’t lost their talent.”
Sarah beamed, stepping back to capture the full scene—Amber strapped in the stirrups, the speculum glinting between her spread thighs, her own body displayed on the wall in horrifying detail. She zoomed in on Amber’s face, the helpless, drugged smile, the tears streaking her cheeks.
“Perfect,” Sarah breathed. “This is going to make me so much money.”
Dr. Voss stepped over to a battered old cooler in the corner and popped the latch. The hinges groaned. She reached inside and pulled out a once clear plastic container, now clouded with age. It was about the size of a shoebox, and set it down on the steel tray beside the exam table. Condensation streaked the plastic, and something inside moved—a slow, wet shift that made Amber’s drugged guts twist.
Sarah leaned over her, smoothing a tangled blonde hair off Amber’s forehead with a tenderness that would have been almost maternal if not for the cruel glint in her eyes. She cupped Amber’s face, tilted it up, and kissed her deeply, sliding her tongue aggressively into Amber’s slack mouth. Amber’s lips moved weakly, automatically, sucking at Sarah’s invading tongue. Sarah tasted like cherry soda and control.
When she pulled back, she stroked Amber’s cheek. “You’re going to love this, baby. I promise. Just be a good girl and take it for me.”
Amber blinked, her pupils tiny, her smile dreamy. “Love… this?”
Dr. Voss giggled impishly, unsnapping the lid of the container. “In a way, she will,” Dr. Voss sneered. “Nothing else in the world feels like it, sweetheart. Something alive, pushing past your little womb’s door and making a home where babies belong. You’ll…..never have the chance to forget it.” She giggled.
Amber’s half-lidded eyes drifted to the container. She saw a mass of thick, dark flesh coiled inside—like a snake, but slicker. The thing was at least fourteen inches long, a dirty brownish-pink, with a rounded head that seemed to flex as it tasted the air. Its mouth was lined with tiny, ringed teeth, a little leech-like O that opened and closed, hungry for warmth.
“Gippsland worm,” Dr. Voss said, as Sarah’s phone recorded from a new angle, zooming in on the creature. “Illegally imported, straight from Australia.
“The perverts have paid extra for this one-it’ll make me a fortune,” Sarah giggled. “Look how thick it is, Amber baby. That head will never fit inside you.”
Dr. Voss pulled on a fresh pair of rubber gloves and lifted the worm out. It writhed in her grip, thick as a man’s thumb, its body glistening with slime. Amber’s eyes widened faintly, a spark of fear cutting through the sedative haze.
“No,” she breathed shakily. “No, don’t… please, Miss Sarah, don’t put that thing inside me…”
“Shh,” Sarah hushed, stroking her hair. “It’s okay. It’s like that dog, remember? You didn’t want him either, but you loved it after a while. You’re a pain slut, sweetheart. Your body knows what to do even when your head doesn’t.”
Dr. Voss pushed the worm down toward Amber’s spread, gaping cunt. The speculum was still cranked wide, holding her open like a frog on a dissection board. The worm’s head touched her wet, exposed inner flesh, and it hesitated for a second before starting to search, its front end probing blindly.
Dr. Voss picked up a long stainless steel tool with two curved prongs at the end. “Now for the fun part,” she rasped. “We have to coax the little darling into the uterus. That’s the trick. This one took me three tries on the last girl, and by the time I got it in, she had shit herself screaming.”
She angled the camera lower, then slid the pronged tool in alongside the worm, the cold metal pressing against Amber’s sensitive inner walls. Amber gasped, her hips jerking against the stirrup cuffs. Dr. Voss aligned the prongs against the puckered entrance of her cervix—that tiny, tight door that was now visible as only a dark slit far inside.
“Here we go, sweetheart,” Dr. Voss muttered. She pushed the prongs in and spread them gently, dangerously. Amber felt a deep, grinding pressure, followed by a sharp, radiating burn. Her scream came out as a strangled sob, her whole body convulsing.
“Relax, relax,” Sarah ordered, her voice sharp as a slap. “You’re ruining the shot. Doc, she’s too tight.”
“Cervix is stubborn,” Dr. Voss grunted. “Give me a second.” She twisted the prongs, and Amber let out a high, thin shriek. The tiny opening began to give, spreading just enough for the worm’s blunt, toothed head. Dr. Voss withdrew the prongs, and the worm immediately homed in on the open slit, its mouth making a suction seal.
“That’s it,” Sarah whispered, her face lit with feral delight. “Oh, look at him. He wants in.”
The worm pushed. Amber felt the head press against the inner ring of her cervix, straining, sliding against it. It bobbed, retracted, then shoved again. On the second attempt, the head caught the edge and began to squeeze through. Amber’s body bucked violently, a guttural moan torn from her throat—a sound caught halfway between agony and a dark, impossible pleasure.
“He’s in,” Dr. Voss crowed, her wrinkled face split in a wicked grin. “He’s in her.”
Amber watched on the monitor as the worm’s dark shape squirmed and undulated, slithering deeper and deeper past her cervix, disappearing into the dark hollow of her womb. The image was surreal—a living thing buried inside her, its body pushing through the opening that had never been forced before. She felt it squirm, coil, press against her inner walls from the inside, a sensation so alien her mind shattered into a thousand glittering pieces.
“Oh God,” Amber sobbed, tears streaming down her cheeks. “It’s moving in me—inside my stomach—I feel it—please, take it out, take it out!”
Sarah just laughed, moving to stand beside the table, running a hand down Amber’s sweaty thigh. “No, baby. Not yet. You look so beautiful like this.”
Doc withdrew the speculum, slowly cranking it closed. As the blades slid out, Amber’s pussy clamped down around the slimy body of the worm, her slick folds sealing tight. Half the worm was still outside, maybe nine or ten inches of wet, ridged flesh hanging from her stretched entrance, wriggling like a snake that wanted to burrow deeper.
Amber looked down between her spread legs and saw it—the tail end of her new tenant writhing, coiling, slapping against her thighs, her little pink butt hole and her engorged clitoris. Her cunt twitched around it, gripping and releasing, and she felt every movement deep in her guts where the rest of the creature had burrowed.
“Look at that,” Sarah purred, crouching to film the worm dangling from Amber’s pussy. “The viewer comments are going to be insane. You feel it right up in your womb, don’t you, sweetheart? You feel it squirming around in there, looking for somewhere to go?”
Amber couldn’t answer. Her mouth hung open, drool sliding down her chin, her body trembling on the rusted table. The worm twisted inside her, and she cried out, her hips rolling instinctively, her drugged mind unable to tell the difference between horror and a pleasure that was starting to claw its way up her spine.
Dr. Voss laughed, wiping her hands on her lab coat. “I’d give it half an hour before it gets settled. Or it might just keep nestling deeper. Some do.”
Sarah stood up, panning back to take in the full scene—Amber strapped down, a live worm half inside her body, wriggling in the hot light of the exam lamp. “Perfect,” she whispered, her smile slow and venomous.
Dr. Voss’ wrinkled hand darted down, her thick rubber-gloved fingers pinching the worm’s slick tail just as it began to slither further inside. The creature squirmed, irritated, its ridged body curling around her knuckles, half a foot of wet, dark flesh still dangling from Amber’s stretched cunt.
“Hold on,” Dr. Voss rasped, looking up at Sarah with a sinister glint in her dark eyes. “You want me to let it go? This thing will burrow deep into her womb and grow bigger. It’ll lay eggs. When they hatch, the baby worms will consume the soft lining of her uterus until they work their way out. She’ll experience many, many orgasms as the parasites eat and wriggle inside her.”
Sarah’s eyes widened, then narrowed with pure, feral delight. A slow, venomous smile spread across her face. She glanced down at Amber—at the trembling, drooling mess strapped to the rusted table, at the thick worm tail pinched between Dr. Voss’ fingers, jutting from the blonde’s quivering pussy.
“Do it,” Sarah whispered, nodding. “Let it go.”
Dr. Voss giggled, a high, croaking sound of pure malice, and released her grip.
Amber felt it the instant the pressure vanished. The worm’s tail, free at last, gave a violent lash against her inner thigh. Then it began to move—not pushing, not struggling, but sliding with a horrible, deliberate purpose. She watched through tear-blurred eyes as the last inches of wet, ridged flesh slithered between her quivering labia.
“No… no, no, no…” Amber sobbed, her voice a broken, drugged whimper. “It’s going inside… it’s all going inside me…”
But her body betrayed her. Her hips rolled, her cunt gripped and released, milking the creature’s tail as it disappeared. The sensation of that final inch slipping past her pussy lips sent a shockwave through her core. Her back arched off the cold steel table, her bound wrists straining against the leather cuffs.
“Ohhh—ohhh f-fuck—” Amber’s cry caught in her throat. Inside her womb, the worm shifted, coiling tighter, its segmented body pressing against the soft, tender walls that had never held anything before. The creature settled deeper, its head probing, tasting, exploring its new home.
Amber’s entire body convulsed. A violent, involuntary orgasm ripped through her, her pussy clenching around nothing, a gush of slick fluid spilling from her stretched entrance. She screamed—a sound of pure, animalistic pleasure she couldn’t control, her drugged mind drowning in the impossible sensation of something alive squirming deep in her guts.
“Jesus Christ,” Sarah breathed, stepping closer, phone recording every twitch of Amber’s face, every shudder of her tiny frame. “Look at her. She’s cumming. She’s actually cumming from that thing moving around in her womb.”
Amber couldn’t hear her. Her ears were ringing, her vision white-hot. The worm twisted again, and another orgasm crashed through her, this one deeper, harder, tearing a guttural moan from her slack mouth. Her pussy clenched rhythmically, uselessly, trying to squeeze out a creature that was already too far inside.
Dr. Voss stepped over and pressed a wrinkled palm flat against Amber’s belly. The skin there was taut, stretched thin over the tiny uterus that now housed something unnatural. Under Dr. Voss’ hand, Amber’s abdomen moved—a slow, visible squirm, the worm’s body pressing against her skin from within, a bulging ripple that traveled from one side to the other.
“There she is,” Dr. Voss cackled, pressing harder, feeling the parasite roll under her fingers. “Feel that? That’s your new tenant, sweetheart. Getting comfy. Making a home.”
Amber looked down, her big blue eyes wide and glassy, and saw the movement—the bulge shifting under her skin, the gentle writhing of something alive in her belly. A fresh sob wracked her body, but between her legs, her clit throbbed, engorged and slick. She was still clenching, still leaking, her body betraying every shred of her horror.
Sarah moved the camera down, capturing the belly bulge, then back up to Amber’s devastated face, her smeared mascara, her open, drooling mouth.
“You know what’s going to happen now, baby?” Sarah purred, crouching beside the table, stroking Amber’s damp hair. “That worm is going to grow. It’s going to lay eggs in your womb. And when they hatch, those little babies are going to eat the soft lining of your uterus, wriggling around in there, and you’re going to cum and cum and cum while they do it.”
Amber moaned, her hips twitching, another weak orgasm rolling through her as if on cue. The worm shifted again beneath Dr. Voss’ palm, coiling tighter, settling into the deepest corner of her tiny womb.
“Perfect,” Dr. Voss said, smiling at Sarah, whose eyes glittered with shared cruelty. “The comments are going to be phenomenal. ‘Worm girl.’ ‘Womb parasite whore.’ They’ll eat this up.”
Sarah laughed, a sharp, delighted sound, and leaned down to kiss Amber’s forehead. “You hear that, sweetheart? You’re going to be famous. My little worm-filled pain slut.”
Amber’s eyes rolled back, her body trembling, her womb alive with a creature already burrowing deeper. She felt it nudge her cervix from the inside, a dull pressure, then a squirm of pure, invasive pleasure that made her toes curl in the stirrup cuffs.
“Take it,” Sarah whispered, her smile slow as poison. “Take it all. You don’t have a choice.”
Dr. Voss shuffled across the grimy tile floor, her rubber slippers squeaking, and bent over a dented metal cooler in the corner. She unlatched it with a creak, and the sound that filled the room was like nothing Amber had ever heard—a moist, chittering rustle, thousands of tiny bodies squirming against each other in frantic desperation.
Amber’s tear-swollen eyes dragged toward the cooler. Her drugged mind struggled to focus, but she could see them—hundreds, thousands of small brown meal worms, a shifting, writhing mass of glistening segmented bodies, climbing over each other in a frenzy to escape.
“No,” Amber begged, her voice barely a rasp. “No, please… no more… please…”
Dr. Voss turned, a wide, toothless grin spreading across her wrinkled face. “It’s time to feed your baby, whore,” she said, her voice dripping with wicked delight as she walked back toward the table, the container held in her gnarled hands, its contents squirming loudly with every step.
Amber sobbed harder, her body yanking uselessly against the leather straps. Her hips bucked, trying to close her legs, but the stirrups held her wide, cuffed and helpless, her pussy still gaping and slick from the violation. Sarah moved in close, phone held steady, catching every angle of Amber’s terrified face and her spread, exposed cunt.
Dr. Voss set the container aside and reached for the speculum, its cold plastic glinting under the bare bulb. Amber saw it coming and let out a keening, animal wail that echoed off the concrete walls.
“Shhh, shhh, sweetheart,” Sarah cooed, stepping in close, petting Amber’s damp blonde hair. “You need to be still for the doctor. She’s just going to feed your baby. You want your baby to be big and strong, don’t you?”
Amber shook her head frantically, but Dr Voss paid her no mind. With a practiced, vicious motion, she shoved the speculum back into Amber’s stretched cunt. The cold plastic grated against her abused walls, and Amber gasped, tears streaming down her temples. Doc cranked the handle, spreading Amber’s pussy wide open, a gaping dark hole waiting to be filled.
The meal worms rose in the container, frantic, a churning brown ocean. Dr. Voss scooped up a heaping spoonful, the worms tumbling and curling over the edges, and held it above Amber’s spread entrance.
Sarah leaned in, the camera inches away, capturing the wet, squirming mass above Amber’s open vagina.
“Say ahhh,” Dr. Voss cackled, and tipped the spoon.
The first worms hit Amber’s cunt like wet, writhing hail. They scattered against her inner walls, tiny legs scratching, tiny bodies curling and fighting for escape. Amber’s scream tore from her throat, a raw, ragged sound, but the worms kept coming—another spoonful, then another, dozens of them dumped directly into her gaping hole.
“Ohhh God—ohhh please—they’re—they’re moving—” Amber bawled, her hips rocking, her cunt clenching around the wriggling mass. She felt them crawling over her inner walls, tiny claws digging in, tasting her flesh, scurrying in frantic, blind panic.
The sensation was madness. Thousands of tiny legs scratching, thousands of tiny bodies wriggling, a living, churning mass inside her. Her clit throbbed, engorged and leaking, and against her will, her hips rolled, grinding against the invading swarm. A sob and a moan ripped from her throat at the same time.
Inside her womb, the giant worm went insane.
It turned, its huge body whipping against her uterine walls, sensing the feast. Its head pushed past her cervix—still loosened, still pried open—and Amber felt the horrible, incredible sensation of it burrowing up into deeper space, then the meal worms it hunted cascaded down in a writhing torrent. It ate.
Oh God, it was eating.
Amber’s vision went white. A full-body convulsion tore through her, her back arching so hard her spine cracked. Her pussy clenched down, milking the worms deeper, and the giant worm thrashed in ecstasy, gorging itself on the tiny bodies that cascaded past its mouth. Another orgasm ripped through her, violent, unstoppable, leaving her gasping and trembling in the wet aftermath.
“Your baby is going to grow so big, honey,” Dr. Voss said sinisterly, scooping another mound of worms and shoving them deep into Amber’s cunt with two gloved fingers, packing them in. “You are going to have so many orgasms, you little slut. It’s such a wonderful feeling, an erotic way to go. You are gonna love it. Hopefully you can last until the babies start working their way out, I’ve seen the pleasure on the faces of former patients,” the doctor laughed.
Amber couldn’t respond. Her mouth hung open, a string of drool connecting her lips, her eyes rolled back into her skull. Inside her, the worm feasted. The meal worms scratched and fought in her cunt, but the giant worm’s body filled her womb, coiling and crushing, trapping them, eating them in greedy, rippling swallows. She felt every movement—every shift, every bite, every squirm transmitted through her thin walls.
Another orgasm. Then another. Her body was a live wire, crackling with involuntary ecstasy, her cunt milking and clenching around the wriggling horde. She felt bloated, full, alive with crawling, shifting life pressing against her insides.
Sarah panned the camera down, capturing Amber’s belly—the visible, ceaseless undulation as the worm fed deeper, the meal worms still desperately squirming in her cunt. Then back up to Amber’s ruined face, her blissful, pleading, desperate expression.
“Look at her, Jamie,” Sarah said, glancing at the open laptop. “What are the comments saying?”
On screen, Jamie’s voice cracked through the speakers. “They—they love it. They’re saying ‘feed her more.’ ‘Worm cum dump.’ They’re—they’re donating extra to see her belly grow—”
Sarah smiled, slow and vicious, and scooped another spoonful of meal worms. “You heard them, sweetheart. Open up.”
About an hour later, the feeding frenzy in Amber’s tummy had settled. Amber could still feel the remaining meal worms wriggling and thrashing. Dr. Voss and Sarah unstrapped Amber and helped her off of the table. “Take your little whore home. Bring her back in a few days and we’ll examine her progress,” Dr. Voss instructed Sarah. Amber could barely walk, every few steps she threatened to collapse as the worm continued to burrow deep in her womb.
A week had passed, though for Amber, time had dissolved into a blur of endless, agonizing pleasure. She lay on the stained mattress in the corner of Doc’s grimy basement, her once-petite frame now visibly distended, her pale belly swollen and moving with a life of its own. Each breath was a labor, each twitch of the worm inside her womb sending fresh waves of convulsive ecstasy rippling through her exhausted body.
She had not slept. Not really. Every time she drifted toward unconsciousness, the worm would shift, coiling and uncoiling, its massive body pressing against her uterine walls, and she would jolt awake with another involuntary orgasm tearing through her. Her thighs were slick with a constant, unending slickness, her pussy raw and gaping, stretched open by the worm’s thick body that occasionally poked its glistening head out, tasting the air before retreating back inside.
When Sarah arrived with Doc, Amber lifted her head weakly. Her long blonde hair was matted and tangled, her big blue eyes glassy and unfocused. Her lips moved, but at first, no sound came out.
“Please,” she finally rasped, her voice a thin, broken whisper. “Please… take it out… I can’t… I can’t anymore…”
Sarah filmed it all, her phone steady in her hand, capturing every pathetic detail—the trembling of Amber’s hands, the hollow look in her eyes, the undeniable bulge of her belly that undulated with the worm’s slow, greedy movements.
“Say it again, sweetheart,” Sarah cooed, stepping closer. “Tell the nice doctor what you want.”
Amber swallowed hard, her throat dry and raw. “Please… Doctor… make it stop… I’ll do anything… just please…”
Dr. Voss approached, her white hair a wild halo around her wrinkled face. She pressed her gnarled fingers against Amber’s swollen belly, feeling the worm squirm beneath the taut skin. Amber’s whole body jerked, a low moan escaping her lips, her hips bucking involuntarily as yet another orgasm began to build.
“Shhh, shhh,” Dr. Voss murmured, a cruel smile curling her lips. “She’s not ready to come out, honey. She hasn’t laid her eggs yet.”
“No…” Amber sobbed, tears streaming down her hollow cheeks. “Please… it hurts… it feels so good I can’t… I can’t think…”
“That’s the point, you stupid little whore,” Dr. Voss laughed, her dark eyes glittering with amusement. “That worm is feeding on you, growing fat and strong inside your useless womb. And when she’s ready, she’s going to lay her eggs—hundreds of them, thousands maybe—and then she’ll make her way out.”
Sarah moved closer, kneeling beside Amber’s head, stroking her matted hair. “You hear that, Amber? She’s going to come out. But you’re not going to like it very much, is she, Doc?”
Dr. Voss cackled, a harsh, rattling sound. “She’s going to be a lot bigger than when she went in, I’ll tell you that. She’s been eating all those meal worms I packed into you, and now she’s been nibbling on your insides, too. When she comes out, she’s going to tear you wide open.”
“Please…” Amber gasped, barely audible. “Please… no…”
“And that’s only the beginning,” Dr. Voss continued, leaning in close, her fetid breath washing over Amber’s face. “Once she lays her eggs, they’re going to hatch inside you. Those little babies? They are going to eat their way out of your womb, through your belly, out of your cunt, wherever they can find an exit. They’re going to eat you alive, little girl.”
Sarah panned the camera down, capturing the terrified, drugged expression on Amber’s face, then the slow, deliberate movement of her belly as the worm shifted within.
“But don’t worry,” Dr. Voss added with a wicked grin, patting Amber’s swollen stomach with casual cruelty. “You’ll be having orgasms the whole time. That worm’s been milking you nonstop for a week now, and it’s not going to stop. You’re going to feel every single bite, every single squirm, every single egg being laid. You’re going to cum so many times you’ll lose your mind completely.”
“My mind’s already gone,” Amber whispered, a broken laugh escaping her lips. “I can’t… I can’t think… I can’t feel… except…”
Her words dissolved into a helpless mewling as the worm turned inside her, its massive body pressing against her cervix, and another orgasm ripped through her, violent and unstoppable. Her body arched, her pussy clenching around nothing, her belly visible in its frantic movement beneath the thin skin.
Sarah laughed softly, filming every tremor. “Look at you, Amber. You’re nothing but a worm’s little cum dump now. A pet. A feeding trough. And everyone’s going to see you this way when I post this.”
“If she lives through it,” Dr. Voss added with a shrug, her voice casual. “Some of them don’t. The ones that do, they’re never the same. You’ll be a drooling, mindless shell by the time this is over—if you’re lucky.”
“Please…” Amber sobbed, her voice barely a rasp. “Just make it stop… please make it stop…”
Dr. Voss shook her head slowly, stepping back. “I can’t, honey. She’s got to come out on her own terms. And trust me, she’s not in any hurry. She likes it in there—warm, dark, full of food. She’s going to stay as long as she can, growing bigger, consuming your guts, and you’re going to lie there and take it.”
Sarah turned to the camera, her face splitting into a wide, cruel smile. “You heard it, everyone. The grand finale is coming. Amber’s going to be the star of the show one last time—her body turning inside out as her babies eat their way free. Stay tuned, because this is going to be the most fucked-up thing I’ve ever posted.”
Amber’s only response was another weak sob, her body trembling with another wave of convulsive pleasure she could no longer control. Deep inside her, the worm settled, coiling contentedly, waiting for the eggs to ripen, waiting for its inevitable, violent departure.
The scream tore from Amber’s throat before she even knew she was screaming. Another week of relentless, agonizing pleasure had left her raw, hollowed out, a shell of the woman she’d once been—but now, something new was happening. Something terrible. Something final.
The worm had laid its eggs.
Thousands of them. Tiny marble-like orbs packed her cramped womb so tightly she could feel each individual sphere pressing against her uterine walls, rubbing together inside her. And now, deep within that grotesque nursery, something was stirring. The worm had finished its task. It wanted out.
“Shhh, shhh, look at that,” Sarah crooned, her phone steady, her face split in a delighted grin as she framed Amber’s writhing body. “She’s trying to escape. The little babies are scaring her.”
Amber thrashed against the leather restraints, her wrists and ankles bound tight to the cold metal table. Her belly was a horror show—a mountainous, moving bulge that rolled and rippled with frantic, desperate motion. Girl cum squirted from her gaping pussy in violent, convulsive bursts, soaking the stained sheets beneath her. She couldn’t stop it. Her body was no longer hers.
“Please!” she howled, her voice ragged and broken. “Please, it’s clawing me! Fuck, it’s tearing me apart!”
“Look at her go,” Dr. Voss murmured, shuffling closer, her dark eyes gleaming with clinical fascination. “She’s panicking. Those eggs are hatching, you see. The larvae are already starting to squirm. She knows if she stays in there, those little bastards are going to eat her alive too.”
Amber’s body arched, her spine bowing off the table as a violent contraction seized her. The worm had found its exit. Its blunt, clawed head pushed hard against her cervix, and with a sickening, wet tearing sound, it punched through.
Amber screamed again, louder this time, an animal sound of pure, unadulterated agony. The worm’s head, thick and slick and slimy, shoved its way into her vaginal cavity, dragging its massive bulk behind it. She could feel it clawing at her inner walls, pulling, digging, fighting its way toward the light.
“Oh, fuck!” Sarah laughed, swooping in to capture the moment from a better angle. “Her cunt’s swelling already, Doc! Look at that mound!”
Amber’s pussy had become a grotesque, bulging mass—her labia stretched obscenely wide, her entire mound pushed outward from within as the worm’s enormous body forced itself into her birth canal. Tears streamed down her cheeks, her breath coming in ragged, sobbing gasps.
“It’s so big!” she cried. “Why is it so big?!”
“It’s been eating well,” Dr. Voss said with a shrug, her tone utterly casual. “Three weeks of meal worms, and then it started nibbling on your insides. She’s probably three inches in diameter now. Maybe more. She’s thirty inches long if she’s an inch. You’re going to feel every single inch of that come out of you, girl.”
Amber’s response was lost in another shriek as the worm’s head pushed hard against the entrance of her pussy. The pressure was unbearable, a white-hot sensation of being split in half. Her labia bulged grotesquely outward, the skin thin and translucent, and then—
The worm’s head punched through.
A thick, slimy, blunt knob of flesh burst out of her stretched cunt, wet and glistening, before retreating slightly, then pushing again. Amber’s whole body convulsed, another orgasm ripping through her even as she sobbed—pleasure and pain inextricably tangled, one feeding the other.
“You’re helping her out, you know,” Dr. Voss observed, watching Amber’s body writhe. “Those contractions are pushing her along. You’re practically birthing her yourself.”
“Give it a hand, Doc!” Sarah urged, her voice high and excited, camera still rolling.
Dr. Voss stepped forward, her gnarled hands wrapping around the slippery, exposed segment of the worm. She pulled—firmly, steadily, with expert precision. The worm’s body slithered out in grotesque, inch-by-inch increments, its thick, rippling surface stretching Amber’s pussy to an almost impossible degree.
Amber screamed, her head thrashing as she felt the impossibly thick body of the worm dragging through her inner walls, a slow, excruciating burn mixed with a pleasure so intense it threatened to crack her mind completely. Her belly deflated inch by inch as the worm slid free, the eggs left behind in her womb.
“That’s it,” Dr. Voss grunted, tugging harder. “She’s fighting me. But she wants out as bad as I want her out.”
Nearly twenty-eight inches of thick, writhing worm finally slithered out of Amber’s ruined cunt with a wet, sucking pop. It flopped onto the stained sheets, a monstrous, glistening length of flesh that coiled and writhed on its own, twitching with frantic energy.
Amber collapsed against the table, gasping, her pussy a gaping, raw hole, her belly still distended—but softer now, slack. Her entire body trembled uncontrollably, the aftershocks of orgasm and agony rippling through her.
Sarah burst into delighted applause, lowering her phone just long enough to grin at the camera, before sweeping back to capture Amber’s destroyed, crying face and the monster of a worm thrashing beside her on the blood-soaked sheets.
The worm still writhed on the stained sheets, its monstrous length coiling and twitching in the lamplight, when Dr. Voss casually scooped it up with a gloved hand and dropped it into a nearby metal bin. It landed with a wet, heavy thud, still slithering against the sides. Dr. Voss paid it no mind. Her dark eyes had already moved to the cooler.
“Now, the fun part,” Dr. Voss muttered, cracking the lid. Inside, instead of more worms, she pulled out a small glass vial and a syringe. “Fentanyl-laced heroin. Strong stuff.” She held it up, letting the light catch the amber liquid. “A big dose of this might kill the eggs before they hatch. But it might kill her, too. Overdose is a real risk. Her heart’s already been through hell this past week.”
Sarah lowered her phone, her grin sharpening. “How many viewers do you think I have right now, Doc?” She didn’t wait for an answer. “I’m making a fortune off this little whore. And the viewers want to see her suffer. They want to hear those babies chew their way out of her womb. Kill the eggs? Fuck that.” She stepped closer, her voice dropping to something cold and sinister. “Just give her a tiny injection. Enough to keep her high. Keep her compliant. That’s all she needs.”
Dr. Voss shrugged, her wrinkled face splitting into a knowing smile. “Your funeral. Or hers.” She measured out a small dose, drawing the cloudy liquid into the syringe. Amber watched it approach with glassy, terrified eyes, still trembling from the worm’s exit.
“No more,” Amber whimpered, her voice barely a whisper. “Please. I can’t—”
Sarah’s hand clamped down on Amber’s forehead, pressing her head flat against the table. “Shh, baby. You can. You will.” Sarah stroked her hair almost tenderly while Dr. Voss slid the needle into the crook of Amber’s arm. The injection burned for a moment, then a warm, liquid wave flooded through her veins, washing away the sharp edges of her pain. Amber’s body went slack, her eyelids drooping, her lips parting in a soft, unintentional moan. The drug wrapped around her like a velvet blanket, numbing her terror into a hazy, floating submission.
“Good girl,” Sarah purred, pulling back.
Dr. Voss moved with clinical efficiency. From a pouch at her waist, she produced a small, round microphone, its surface glossy and new. She pressed it against Amber’s distended belly—still swollen, still full of thousands of eggs—and taped it down with four strips of medical tape, one on each side. The device hummed to life, its tiny LED blinking red.
“The viewers are going to hear every squirm,” Dr. Voss said, tapping the microphone with a crooked finger. “Every crunch. Every bite.”
Sarah leaned over Amber, her face filling her view. For a moment, she looked almost gentle—then her lips pressed against Amber’s in a deep, possessive kiss. Amber’s mouth opened instinctively, drugged and compliant, letting Sarah’s tongue slide inside. When Sarah pulled back, she was grinning wickedly.
“I’m sorry, baby,” Sarah whispered against her lips. “But this is going to make me so much money.”
She straightened and raised her phone, the red REC light already blinking.
The first sound came from inside Amber’s belly.
A faint, wet, clicking noise—like tiny claws scrabbling against flesh. It was audible through the microphone, amplified through the small speaker Dr. Voss had set up beside the table. Amber’s glassy eyes drifted down to her swollen stomach, watching it move. The eggs were shifting. Rolling. Cracking.
Then, the first squirm.
Amber gasped, her body jerking as something sharp and tiny wriggled through her uterine wall. A sensation like a pinprick, but deeper. Hotter. Then another. And another. The hatching had begun.
“Oh—oh fuck,” Amber breathed, her voice thin and drugged. “They’re moving. They’re—”
A violent convulsion seized her body, her back arching off the table. The larvae were hatching in waves, thousands of tiny, ravenous mouths biting and tearing through the soft tissue of her womb. The sound through the speaker was unmistakable—a wet, grinding, chewing cacophony, like sand being crushed in wet leather.
Amber screamed, but it came out as a gurgling moan. The fentanyl dulled the pain, turned it into something thick and distant—but the pleasure was not dulled. It exploded. Her pussy clenched, squirting a hot gush of fluid as her first convulsive orgasm ripped through her. Her belly rolled violently beneath the microphone, the tiny monsters feeding, growing, tunneling.
“Look at her,” Sarah crowed, circling the table, capturing every angle. “They’re eating her alive, and she’s cumming like a whore.”
Amber thrashed, her wrists straining against the leather, her legs kicking weakly in the stirrups. She could feel them now—not just in her womb, but spreading. Ripping through her fallopian tubes, chewing into her ovaries, burrowing through the membrane separating her organs. Her stomach convulsed as a wave of them bit into her intestine. Another orgasm ripped through her, violent and involuntary, her entire body seizing, her pussy spraying fluid across the sheets.
“They’re everywhere,” Amber sobbed, drool running down her cheek. “They’re eating my insides. Please—please make it stop—”
Dr. Voss stepped forward, a second syringe already in her hand. This one was larger, filled with a darker, thicker liquid. “Her call,” Dr. Voss said, glancing at Sarah.
Sarah never lowered her phone. “Do it.”
The needle slid into Amber’s neck. The injection was cold, spreading through her jugular like liquid ice. Amber’s eyes went wide, her mouth opening in a silent scream. Then the drug hit her—a massive, overwhelming wall of euphoria that snapped her body as taut as a bowstring.
Her eyes rolled back, her spine arching, her belly heaving as the larvae feasted. She came again—a sustained, shattering orgasm that had no end, her pussy gushing continuously, her whole body vibrating like a plucked string. Inside her, the chewing grew louder. Hungrier. The microphone picked up every crunch, every wet tear, every frantic, starving gulp.
Sarah zoomed in on Amber’s face—the glassy, empty eyes, the slack jaw, the drool pooling beneath her head. The tiny blonde’s belly was beginning to cave inward, hollow sections forming where the creatures had consumed the flesh beneath her skin.
“Perfect,” Sarah whispered, her grin triumphant. “Absolutely perfect.”
Amber’s chest rose one last time, her lips parting around a soundless moan, as something inside her belly squirmed directly beneath the microphone. A wet, audible slurp filled the room. Her eyes fluttered.
The film kept rolling, and Amber’s body kept seizing—but each convulsion rolled through her like a wave of pleasure, her hips jerking against the stirrups, her ruined pussy clenching and releasing. The larvae were everywhere now—a churning, chewing mass that had turned her insides into a wet, grinding chaos. The microphone taped to her collapsing belly picked up every snap and tear, every wet, starving gulp, amplified across the room like a nightmare broadcast. But beneath that wet, chewing sound was another—a faint, high-pitched moan that escaped Amber’s slack lips each time her body arched.
Amber’s back bowed off the table, her tiny frame jerking in violent spasms that were almost orgasmic. Her mouth hung open, a thin strand of drool trailing down her cheek, her tongue lolling. The fentanyl-laced heroin kept her pinned to the edge of consciousness, turning the agony into a distant, throbbing hum—but her body still reacted, still bucked and twisted as thousands of tiny mouths burrowed through her womb, her intestines, her liver. Her skin rippled in waves, hollows sinking where the creatures feasted, and each ripple seemed to drag a shudder of pleasure through her core. Her nipples stood hard and aching on her hollowed chest, her clit swollen and engorged, peeking out from her gaping, torn pussy.
Sarah lowered her phone for a moment, stepping close to the table. She leaned over Amber, her face swimming into Amber’s glassy, unfocused vision. Sarah smiled—soft, almost maternal—and pressed her lips to Amber’s. It was a gentle kiss, unhurried, Sarah’s tongue tracing Amber’s slack lower lip before pushing inside, lapping at Amber’s mouth, tasting the drool and the drug. Her hand slid down Amber’s sweat-slicked body, palm dragging over a breast, pinching the hard nipple, then trailing down to the sunken belly. Sarah pressed her fingers into the hollow, feeling the writhing beneath the skin, and Amber moaned into her mouth, a weak, desperate sound.
Sarah pulled back, stroking Amber’s damp hair, pushing blonde strands off her forehead.
“Have your last orgasm, baby,” Sarah whispered, her voice dripping with mock affection. “You’re just a worthless, used-up whore now.”
She giggled, a light, airy sound that didn’t belong beside the wet crunching filling the room, and her fingers drifted lower, stroking Amber’s mound, spreading the slick blood and fluid over her swollen clit.
Sarah straightened, raising her phone again, but this time she angled it downward, between Amber’s spread legs. The stirrups held Amber’s thighs apart, her destroyed pussy gaping open, torn and slick. And crawling out of it—hundreds of them. Tiny, pale, writhing larvae, slick with blood and tissue, digging their way out of her ruined cunt. They spilled onto the stained sheets, squirming in a seething carpet, some still half-buried in her flesh, their tiny jaws working as they pushed free. But at the center of that ruin, her clit still throbbed, a broken little beacon of pleasure.
Dr. Voss stepped beside Sarah, looking down at the crawling mass with detached professional interest. “They’re exiting. Good—they’ve stripped the womb clean. She won’t survive much longer. The bleeding is internal. Massive.”
Sarah didn’t look up from her phone. “She doesn’t need to survive much longer. She just needs to cum.”
She zoomed in, the camera capturing every squirm, every wet, glistening parasite sliding out of Amber’s torn pussy. The table was alive with them, a writhing infestation spreading toward the edges, dropping to the floor with soft, wet pats. Sarah’s free hand moved between Amber’s legs, her fingers finding the swollen clit, rubbing slow, deliberate circles through the blood and slime.
Amber could only look up. Her chest rose and fell in shallow, ragged gasps. The drug held her in a warm, dreamy haze, but her body was caving in—her belly sunken in places, her skin pale and waxy, her legs trembling weakly in the stirrups. But Sarah’s fingers sent lightning bolts of sensation through her wrecked nerves. She could feel the last of the larvae chewing their way out, squeezing through her cervix, tearing through her pussy—and each tear felt like a stroke against her clit, a grinding, burning pleasure that made her inner muscles flutter.
“Come on, baby,” Sarah purred, stepping closer, the phone inches from Amber’s gaping cunt, her fingers never stopping. “Cum you little slut. Cum one last time.”
Amber’s eyes fluttered. A small, broken sound escaped her lips—a moan, thin and fragile, rising in pitch as Sarah’s fingers worked faster. The pleasure, buried beneath the drug and the destruction, surged one final time. Her pussy clenched around the crawling larvae, a violent, desperate spasm that squeezed several of them out in a wet gush. Her hips bucked against the stirrups, her back arching, her mouth opening in a silent scream that was pure ecstasy. A thick trickle of fluid mixed with blood leaked from her gaping hole, and her whole body shuddered in a long, rolling orgasm, her clit pulsing under Sarah’s fingers, her thighs clenching.
The orgasm seemed to pull the last of her life out of her. Her body convulsed once, twice, and then went still, still trembling faintly around the lingering spasms of pleasure.
A faint smile curved the corners of her lips, wider than before, almost radiant. Her eyes, glassy and far away, stared up at the ceiling—not in blank death, but in a dreamy, post-coital haze. The smile was peaceful, a last, silent submission to everything Sarah had done to her, a final orgasm that had carried her directly into oblivion.
Sarah held the shot, capturing the smile, the hollowed belly, the swarm of parasites still crawling between Amber’s lifeless thighs. Her fingers finally withdrew from Amber’s clit, slick with fluid. She brought them to her mouth, tasting Amber one last time.
“Did you get all that?”
Dr. Voss nodded, her dark eyes gleaming. “Every second. That was quite a finale.”
Sarah reached down and gently closed Amber’s eyes, then patted her cheek. “Good girl,” she whispered. “Good little whore. You came so beautifully for me.”
But the film kept rolling. And in the corner, the microphone still taped to Amber’s motionless belly, the tiny speaker continued to emit a faint, wet, chewing sound—the larvae still feeding on whatever was left.
Jamie sat alone in the dark living room, the glow of his laptop screen painting his pale face in sickly blue light. The live stream had ended, but he’d replayed it, rewound it, watched his tiny wife’s body convulse in that final, beautiful orgasm over and over. Her smile. That radiant, peaceful smile as the larvae crawled out of her ruined cunt. His hand was already inside his sweatpants, fingers wrapped around his half-hard dick, trembling.
The phone buzzed on the coffee table. Sarah’s face filled the screen—no, not her face. She was live, the camera angled down at her cleavage, her wicked grin visible at the top edge. Behind her, he could see the metal table, the stirrups, a glimpse of Amber’s pale, lifeless leg.
“There he is,” Sarah purred. “The grieving widow. And by the look of it, not so grieving, are you, Jamie?”
Jamie’s hand froze. His mouth was dry. “I—Sarah—”
“Don’t you fucking lie to me, wimp.” Her voice was honey and razor blades. “I can see your hand down your pants. You’ve been watching her cum to death, haven’t you? Getting off on your own wife’s corpse?”
He couldn’t deny it. His dick twitched in his grip at her words. A whimper escaped him.
Sarah laughed, that light, airy giggle that always made his stomach flip. “Are you proud of your slutty little wife, Jamie? Answer me.”
“Yes,” he croaked. “Yes, I’m—I’m proud of her.”
“Good boy.” She tilted the camera, showing a corner of the table, blood-slicked sheets, a single blonde hair. “The whore has made me a lot of money, Jamie. It’s a shame that it had to end—but they do say stardom is fleeting. You can only be famous for so long.” She laughed again, cruel and delighted. “Her little pussy made me a fortune. And now she’s nothing but worm food.”
Jamie’s breath hitched. His hand moved again, slow, agonizing strokes up his thin shaft. He was barely hard—he’d never been able to get fully hard, not even during the gang rape videos—but the pulsing, shameful warmth was there.
“Read those comments, wimp.” Sarah’s voice dropped, low and commanding. “Scroll down. Read what your wife’s fans thought about her. Really read them. I want to hear you say them out loud.”
His fingers shook as he grabbed his phone, switching between the laptop and the glowing screen. The comment section rolled on endlessly—hundreds of them, thousands. He selected the top-rated ones, his voice thin and reedy as he began to read.
“‘Best death I’ve ever watched. She came so hard her soul flew out her asshole. 10/10 would breed her corpse.'”
Sarah’s giggle rang out. “Keep going.”
His eyes skipped down the list, his dick growing harder despite his shame. “‘Little blonde fuck-toy finally got what she deserved. Look at that smile—she loved being eaten from the inside out.'” His voice cracked. “‘I’d’ve paid double to watch her squirt cum while those larvae chewed her guts. Fuck, I’m cumming just looking at her empty belly.'”
“Don’t stop, Jamie.” Sarah’s voice was deliciously patient. “Stroke that little cock while you read.”
His hand moved faster, his strokes still weak, uncertain, but rhythmic. Sweat beaded on his forehead. He read another, louder. “‘Amber’s cunt was made for this. No husband could ever fill a hole that needed so much. RIP you glorious whore.'”
Sarah laughed. “Read the one about her cervix. The one about Dr. Voss’ worm.”
Jamie scrolled, found it. “‘I came so hard when that worm went in her. And when it came out—motherfucker, her pussy was a cave. Those larvae finished what the worm started. Amazing.'”
He was panting now, staring at the screen, reading more and more, his voice growing steadier, more hungry. “She’s a legend,” he whispered, almost reverent. “My wife is a legend.”
Sarah’s face filled the screen again, that beautiful, cruel smile. “That’s right, wimp. Your little wife is a legend. And you’re just the pathetic cuck who watched her become one.” She paused, her eyes glittering. “I hope you squirt your little cummies, Jamie. Have a good life.”
The screen went black.
Jamie stared at the dark phone for a long moment, his chest heaving. Then he leaned back into the couch, his hand moving faster, his eyes sliding back to the laptop, to the frozen frame of Amber’s smile, her hollowed belly, her gaping, ruined pussy still crawling with larvae.
He read the comments aloud again, one after another, his voice raw and desperate, his small dick leaking against his fingers. And when he finally came, it was with a choked sob, his body jerking, a few weak spurts streaking across his stomach, his own wife’s ruined image burning into his brain as the last of the light drained from the screen.
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