![]() Further, every inch was covered with the bodiless tentacles, the color of which was a fleshy red. The space had not been constructed, but rather grown the walls and the high ceiling all thrummed and pulsed with life. First, she looked around the chamber with elevating alarm. Her head broke the surface of the rancid fluid, and several things occurred. Death was supposed to be the end, one just stopped existing, it wasn't logical to be able to feel even more than a living body would, and to suffer more greatly in death than in life. She couldn't imagine what she'd possibly done to deserve this fate - she hadn't ever been religious, not even slightly superstitious. The girl should have drowned a thousand deaths in that putrid lake had she not already been deceased her 'lungs' were filled with it, and her ability to taste, heightened many times along with her sense of smell, presented a source of terrible suffering. She thrashed wildly, her arms and legs striking futilely against what felt like rubber tubes coated in a gelatinous slime.įor a long moment, nothing else happened. As she vomited up the foul liquid in which she was bathed, more simply poured in. Lillian recognized the stench to be that of decaying fish. It seemed, somehow, that in death her senses had been newly amplified so as to force her to suffer disgusting smells and textures tenfold. She had been engulfed by a writhing mass of tentacles, the rank fluids pouring down her throat as she screamed in despair and revulsion. The word 'appalling' lacks the breadth to describe the horror of the ground onto which she fell. The fall was long and terrible, yet it did not begin to compare to the landing. Her senses were restored with startling clarity, and she was assaulted at once by a dank and fetid smell, the precursor of what was to be expected from the contents of that space. She screamed, and the noise was clear and chilling in the spacious, apparently unoccupied chamber into which her soul had been violently thrust. ![]() The potent stupor to which Lillian's existence clung suddenly broke, and she was plummeting into one of the many winding subsections of the passage. For, three days ago on her 21st birthday, her life had been prematurely ended during a fatal car crash since that incident, her spirit had been unwillingly swept along a dark and treacherous passage with many chambers and branching tunnels leading to unknown fates. If she could, the girl should have wept deafeningly at her circumstance, for these were the drifting tides of her recent and sudden demise. No voice, no music, no interruption in the deepening silence of the pulmonating void. The complete absence of thought and sensation kept the girl placid, non-resisting. Warning: Story contains extreme spanking, armpit tickling, death, graphic female sexuality, bondage, and disgusting descriptions.Īn immense pool of darkness swirled about Lillian McCrae, the vortex of consciousness and eternity.
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