Mahma

It had been a shitty fucking day to say the least.

Finally sick of waking up to constant pounding headaches and all-over body itching, I'd gone to the ER to get checked out thinking I'd smacked my head or if my eczema was acting up so bad it was giving me headaches. Turned out to be much, much worse.

There's a golf ball in my brain. Metastasized everything from marbles to BBs from head to toe. The 'team' made it sound like I'd been caught in a vending machine explosion- 'dime-shaped mass', 'quarter-sized mass', 'about as big as a ball bearing', 'cluster of lumps', etc. etc.. Treating even half of them will bankrupt me within 4 months. If untreated? Maybe a year left if I lucked out.

Pretty sure at the time I didn't want to bother. Nothing much worth saving back then. I carried two full-time work-from-home jobs, mostly because I hated going out in public with all the shit that could irritate my skin and the looks my condition got. Neither job had decent health care. I had no friends because I worked all the time and my family would remain steadfast in their desire to help no one unless paid. Pretty bad when you've got to PAY your money-grubbing but lazy family to visit. At least with a hooker I was getting something out of it besides a guilt trip.

But hey, my sob story's not what you're here for, is it? Especially since that was six years ago and here I am, healthy and clean! How did I do it, you might ask? Simply put, I did nothing.

She did!

I'm sure you understand how miserable and alone I felt by the time I checked out of the hospital that evening with a folder of dietary recommendations and a sack of prescriptions I was out of pocket a house payment to fill. According to oncologist's orders, I was to go home to my shell of an apartment, swallow a bunch of pills for dinner, and keep a bucket next to the bed for the morning after effects. A regular thrill a minute. At least I'd already called out of work for the next few days

The human-form werewolf Uber driver (How did I know? She wore a t-shirt that proudly proclaimed "I do it doggy-style every full moon!'. Classy.) took one look, sniffed me over and drove me straight to Elysium. Didn't even ask. You know it? The monster club?

I'd never been. No reason to go unless 'feeling like a monster' because of my skin counts. But she took me right up to the front door, one of the few human males in the admissions line. Lots of horny college-aged girls in impossibly small outfits clinging to each other or the arm of something huge or otherworldly good-looking but very few human men, most on leashes. My Uber driver spoke to the werewolf bouncer, who likewise gave me a sniff before opening the door and ushering us inside with a look of pity on his face.

I was parked at the bar, told to order something strong for myself and that she would be right back. Fuck it, I certainly needed a drink and it seemed unlikely I'd get a second glance here. Might even blend in a little. I asked the minotaur bartender for something strong and he handed me some sort of heady alcohol concoction that could strip paint off of a battleship. After two or three sips. I'm watching the dark mass of dancers grinding away under the strobe lights on the foggy dance floor when she appears directly in front of me.

One minute I'm leaning back against the bar wondering what the hell I'm doing there and the next I have a five-foot-nothing leather girl with wide hips, boobs bigger than my head pressed into my chest and a predatory grin that would make sharks and lawyers back up grabbing my thighs high enough to short circuit the speech centers of my brain. Among other things.

You've seen her! That soft 'fertility goddess' body faintly glowing from within? The constant sheen of 'sweat' I thought came from dancing in the thick of the crowd on the floor? The hips and tits barely contained only by the heroic efforts of her skirt and vest? The ruby chips of her eyes? The way her neon pink tongue plays across her lips before she strikes?

Like a jump scare, but with huge boobs and smelling vaguely like a strawberry daiquiri.

This is definitely not my Uber driver. HER I saw heading back out the door, leaving me alone in this strange place with this... manic-pixie dream sexual predator.

I'm sitting there, trying to get enough coherence together to say 'hello' and keep my hips ON the chair despite what her thumbs are doing, when she quite simply pops up onto her tiptoes and plants a kiss on me! No preamble, no introduction, not even a 'hi'- just 'boing' up on her toes and 'Here, I need to give you an immediate dental exam with my tongue and, hope you don't mind, but I'm also going to lick your lower intestine!'. I've never been able to figure out if she tasted more like a paloma or a cranberry margarita. Either way, it was intoxicating and my body reacted appropriately. Or 'inappropriately' depending on your viewpoint.

Intoxicated by her delicious mouth, I started to kiss back. Our tongues dueling, moaning into her mouth, wrapping my hands around her hips to pull her against my sore groin. She laughed that deep sort of laugh that made her whole body shake. Then she licked my lips, leaving me with that feeling after you first put on lip balm- that waxy coating with the taste of berries. Anyway, she looks up at me and shakes her head, never breaking eye contact.

"Oooohhh! Naughty bebe," she says in that voice that's... that reminds me of a natural born Russian speaker trying to do a Jamaican parody accent in English also sounding somehow French? But still musical... fluid. Hard to describe really. "Lucky. Mahma likes naughty bebes. Cum with Mahma."

Needless to say, I wasn't dwelling on my hospital visit when she said that because who would? She's still playing with my crotch, pressing those magnificent boobs against my chest, and giving off vibes that tell me 'Just give the word and I will fuck your brains out Right Here'. And I was about to comment something to the effect of 'I may be sick, but YOU'RE the one giving me a hand job instead of a hand shake.' but it never came out.

Instead, she leaned in for another quick kiss, taking me by the hand and dragging me out onto the dance floor into the close, hot press of people and beings around us. For once in my life, I didn't mind. She felt cool to the touch and stayed pressed tightly against me, dancing and grinding, never taking her hands from my waist while making sure I draped my arms over her shoulders. Over her head, I could just make out a minotaur dancing behind a large orc woman, hands wrapped around to fondle her breasts through her net blouse. I could hear a centaur off in the crowd to my right, stomping and hooting while being 'serviced' but couldn't see it. Difficult to believe, but my attention started to drift from the soft goddess grinding against me to those around us.

Right up until I felt her cool hand wrap around my cock and start slowly stroking. I didn't even feel her take down my zipper! The stroking hand went lower and lower until I felt her cupping my balls. My startled gasp became a moan of ecstasy when my neglected cock slid into the warmest, wettest pussy I'd ever fucked. While still tucked away in my pants. She wouldn't let me see what she was doing below the lovely shelf of her breasts but, by Gawd, it was magic!

"That's it, Bebe," she encouraged between intoxicating kisses. Each contact of our mouths felt like doing shots as I got drunker and drunker off of her. Her hand on my cock kept going, steady, dirty strokes that my hips were starting to match of their own volition. Behind her, the crowd parted enough for me to see one of the human women from the line outside, her head thrown back in pure lust, getting double teamed by a pair of blue jean wearing goblins with their narrow faces and long, thin cocks sliding in and out of her holes. My vision started to go out of focus, but I could see her turn her head towards me and smile dreamily. "Give the tasties to Mahma, Bebe."

I did. Grabbing tightly to her vest-top, I struggled not to cry out as I came harder than I ever had before. She kept dancing and stroking my cock and squeezing my balls and milked me dry, encouraging me with soft kisses and dirty whispers of "Good job, Bebe. Good boy for Mahma. That's it, give all of it. Mahma likes the tasties, Bebe."

Holding me upright while my knees quaked from the effort, she brought her hand up and licked her fingers clean of my seed.

"Oh yes, the wolvies were right," she said dreamily between noisy licks. "Going to be soooo so tasty for Mahma! Gonna take Bebe home and make feel oh so good!"

Try as I might, I have absolutely no idea how we got from the club to her apartment. One minute she's finishing off the mess I made in her hand in the middle of the dance floor, the next I'm following her into her bedroom and entranced at her clothes just sliding down her body to the floor- top, skirt and boots. No bra. No panties. Just a shrug and there's a heap of black leather on the floor completely revealing her marbled pink skin. What I had taken as the play of the club lights and fog on body glitter turned out to be all her, pearlescent curves gleaming in the faint light streaming into the room from the bathroom.

And this is when I finally wrap my head around the fact that she's NOT human. She didn't 'walk' so much as flowed, moving so fluidly that I was mesmerized. You've seen her skin? That subtle, polished pink and white marbling with the tiny streaks of red and the one 'tramp stamp' purple mark? The hair that isn't really hair but thin tendrils, moving as though a thing separate and alive? How smooth and cool to the touch she is and how holding your hand against her for too long makes the spot start to go wet and soft? Now imagine taking all of that in while you're drunk as fuck and horny as hell.

"You're not human, are you?" I brilliantly observed, cupping one heavy bare breast in my hand while she 'tutted' and helped me undress. I stared at her tits, running my fingertips over the places where nipples should be. Smooth and clear as the rest of her. I found myself resisting the urge to bend down and bite that lovely globe.

"Later, Bebe," she replied, dropping to her knees to help me out of my pants. And to lick my raging erection, eliciting a gasp of pleasure from me. "Unless Bebe feels it is more important than this?" The predatory grin reappeared briefly before my cock disappeared into her mouth. I swear, I could almost see it through the top of her head, but that would have been impossible, right?

I did not, in fact, feel that anything was at all important beyond what she was doing with her mouth at that exact moment.

She knows EXACTLY what she's all about when she starts sucking cock and that's no lie. No hesitation, no buildup, no teasing licks to get you wetter. She CAN do all of that and more- pinning me down and teasing my dick with just her mouth for hours, but that first night she skipped all the preamble and took me in all the way straight to the base.

I'm standing there, trying to keep on my feet and she's got my whole dick in her mouth and, instead of bobbing back and forth on it, I can feel the tight confines of her mouth squeezing and pulling along the length like she was doing with her hand in my pants on the dance floor! She makes this happy, hungry noise deep in her throat when I put my hands on her head to steady myself as I feel my balls getting pulled in past her lips as well.

I'm trying to fuck her face and she's just moving with me, never letting me out of the cool confines of her mouth. I'm making noises I'm sure I haven't made since I was a baby. Her hands reach around to pull my asscheeks apart before one of her fingers or even maybe her impossible tongue reached out to start probing my hole. I am so close to cumming and I NEED to bury my face into her pussy because there is no way I'm NOT going to scream this time. Her plump boobs squish against my shaking knees. The finger finds my hole and pushes inside, almost sending me over the edge.

"Please! Oh fuck... please! I need to eat your pussy if you're gonna keep sucking me off!" I beg. I mean, I don't know what sort of creatures she's used to being with, but I can't cum and cum and cum all night long and I NEED to return the pleasure she's giving me before I really ruin it and pass out asleep. "Eat you! Fuck you! Fuck... anything!"

She flows up my body, making every bit of my skin she touches tingle with energy. Soon, we are face to face and yet my cock remains somehow still inside her body the whole time. And the finger in my ass is still there making its presence felt. I'm not thinking about the impossibility of either at this point.

"Bebe wants to taste pretty folds?" She purrs, planting another intoxicating kiss inside my mouth with her amazing tongue. My hands find the generous curves of her ass, firm and moist under my palms and then giving slightly. "Tasting Mahma's pretties always makes bebes happy. Happy Babe will taste sooo nummy for Mahma. Get on Mahma's bed, Bebe."

Her 'bed' is a large clear plexiglass bowl shaped thing hanging by five chains from the ceiling about a foot and a half above the floor with a few sparse pillows and a single blanket. Reminds me of a hanging papasan chair just plastic instead of wicker and without a cushion or mattress. With her help, I apprehensively climbed onto it and put myself in the center, planting my butt in the lowest part of the shallow bowl. She flowed in beside me, rewarding me with kisses and wrapping her hand around the base of my cock once more. I wrapped my arms around her and pulled her into a tight embrace, feeling her soft, glorious body warming atop mine.

"Mahma was not expecting to bring home such yummies tonight, but Bebe's will not be cold in Mahma's bed."

With my head propped up on what appeared to be an outdoor patio pillow, I gave her a kiss of my own and then, in the time it took to blink, I saw and felt a ripple or shudder run through her. Rising over my face was her smooth, and indeed very pretty, pale pink pussy gleaming with the sweet sweat rolling down the crack of her ass. Grabbing and spreading her cheeks, I gave her one long lick from her mound all the way up as far as I could reach. I wasn't expecting her to taste like other women but where I'd been anticipating a sweet flavor like strawberries and cream candies, what graced my tongue was much more akin to the barbeque sauce that Chinese restaurants use on their spare ribs. She moaned around my cock, already deep throating me once more.

Licking and sucking at her outer lips and that little fleshy bridge between pussy and ass, I CRAVED getting my tongue into her! If what I was tasting on the exterior was nirvana, then the honey inside just HAD to be the purest ambrosia on the planet. But the oddest thing- I couldn't get inside her. I pulled her lips apart and swirled my tongue into her opening but it just stopped shallow. I started digging harder with my tongue and eventually worked inside but it felt like I was eating a Jell-o cup without a spoon- I had to dig and point my tongue until it split her surface open so I could get inside. And that effort was rewarded by the validation of my hope of sweeter, more soul-satisfying juices flowing from her.

I'm not sure if I moaned at how good she tasted or what she was doing to my dick, but it was probably both to be honest.

It took me forever to find her clit! Okay, yes, there's the old joke of 'Most men can't find it anyway.', but I KNOW where to look thanks to some very understanding and well-paid teachers and it just wasn't there. I was starting to think it might be something like her nipples where her anatomy was simply different enough that she just didn't have one. But then it appeared, just where it was supposed to be and I licked and sucked until it grew between my lips.

Meanwhile, she's still servicing my cock better than anyone I've ever been with. My whole shaft and balls in her mouth being lavished by her skilled tongue, stroked by the suction of her cheeks and pulled into her throat by her swallowing. She spread my legs, pulling my knees up and out, then tilting them back toward my shoulders. This shifted my hips, letting her take me even deeper in her mouth if that was possible. What wasn't possible was moving her head down and tonguing my asshole while still licking my cock.

I barely notice because so many things start happening at once- everywhere our sweaty bodies meet, my itchy skin is starting to tingle and soothe better than any medicated cream I've ever used. More immediate to me, her clit continued responding to my attentive sucking, growing thicker and longer and already the size of my index finger in my mouth, but instead of rigid, it felt like a water balloon. She seemed to enjoy what I was, so I kept going. Most importantly though, her tongue, no longer satisfied with rimming my hole and licking my entire cock, wiggled its way into my backdoor and deeper than it had any right to go. And somewhere along the way, it found a friend who started rubbing my prostate.

To say I was startled would be underselling it. I'd been fingered back there when getting a blowjob, but never fucked or pegged. I tried to protest, but her clit now filled my mouth all the way back to my tonsils. DON'T BITE I had to warn myself. And then she let out a long groaning sigh just before my mouth flooded with that savory fluid I took for sweat but made my teeth tingle it tasted so fucking good. The water balloon clit just 'popped'in my mouth.

As I'm swallowing that amazing treat, she... she shifted. That ripple I saw before had been subtle but this was something wholly different. Her head came away from my lap and turned towards my face, but my cock never left her cool, controlling interior. Her bountiful breasts, once resting on my lower stomach crawled up my torso to rest on my chest and shoulders. Her pussy and long clit, no longer in my mouth, grew in the place of the tongue in my ass, still fucking me with short, deliberate strokes of her broad hips. Once shorter and more weighty than I, she was now taller and thinner, but still as beautiful and translucent pink.

Moreover, I could look down and see the entire length of my hard cock, buried to the base inside her tummy, entering through where her navel should have been and reaching up toward her diaphragm, if she had one. I was so very close to cumming and had been for some time. As soon as she would let me.

It was about then I noticed that I was sitting in a deepening puddle of that fluid that flowed off of her, gathering in the bowl-shaped bed. She leaned down, putting all her weight on top of me and kissed me again, this time long and slow and deliberate. Still that sensation of taking a shot from her mouth. A pressure against the base of my balls, a grinding against my prostate and she tilted her face up to whisper her permission huskily in my ear...

"Cum for Mahma, Bebe."

I EXPLODED! I thought the handjob she'd coaxed me through in the club had been intense but this was a whole matter entirely. My hips bucked, back arched, every muscle in my body clenching and releasing. My balls tightened up so much I had a brief relapse into pre-pubescence. Everything I had in the tank tore through my balls and out into her... into HER so hard it took my breath away. I swear I came for an eternity. I swear I was shouting, but not hearing any sound beyond the roaring in my ears and the occasional rattle of the bed's supporting chains.

She stayed right on top of me, still stroking her hips to fuck my ass, caressing my face and upraised arms with her cool hands, and gently whispering-

"Yes Bebe. Good Bebe. Give it all to Mahma. Mahma will make Babe feel sooo good soon. Yes Bebe, cum for Mahma. Wonderful tasties for Mahma."

When the orgasmic convulsions ended, I lay in her embrace, gasping for air and drifting in and out of consciousness while she caressed my cheeks and coo'd softly.

"Sleep Bebe. Mahma will keep Bebe safe and warm. Feel so, soo good in the morning. Sleep Bebe. Mahma will take those tasties from inside."

--------

I woke up to a gentle misting spray coming from the ceiling, like the kind of device you see in the produce aisle of the grocery to keep the veggies fresh. Groggily, I blinked to clear my eyes, automatically reaching across the scratch that one spot on my arm that's always really bad in the morning only to realize, it didn't itch at all. I also realized I was in a stranger's bed and there would be a lot of dry, flaked off skin on it like my bed at home that often needs a little hand vac to clean it up. I started to sit up, to push off the blankets and try and clean up the worst of it before she woke. At least the headache I'd been waking up with the last few weeks was gone.

It wasn't a blanket covering me, but a thick layer of translucent pink ooze that filled the depression of the bowl-shaped bed. It clung to me when I tried to move it.

"Good sleep Bebe?" I heard her purr in her 'morning after' voice. I sat up to look for her out of the bed because I just hadn't wrapped my brain around the truth quite yet.

"Mahma?" I glanced towards the wide open bathroom door but there was no one inside. Then the ooze clinging to my chest and shoulders started to resolve into arms and she 'gathered' into my lap, rising up until the woman I'd been with the night before sat with her legs around me, smiling. I hadn't slept WITH her, I'd slept IN her.

"Mahma said Bebe would be warm and feel good in the morning, remember?" She kissed me gently, not like the intoxicating tongue duels started in the club. Lips meeting and bodies sharing warmth. "Good sleep?"

"Best sleep I've had in weeks," I admitted, rather enjoying the feeling of her smooth, cool body against mine and the ability to see through her to my arms wrapped around her. "Sorry about the dead skin though. I've got..."

"Delicious treats," she interrupted, grinning broadly before kissing the tip of my nose. "Salty like potato chips."

"What? You ATE my eczema?" I drew back, surprised but not disgusted. I've been on the internet since 2-girls-1--cup, so I've heard of stranger fetishes.

"Mahma ectomorph," she explained, rubbing my biceps, looking at me with pleading eyes. It took a bit for me to put the pieces together. "Consumed dead skin by nature."

"You're... a... slimegirl?" I ventured, hoping my pop-culture references weren't failing me.

"Bah! 'Slimegirl'," she grunted out the word as if it were a bitter pill. And I have to tell you, seeing her frumph and sigh? I started to get hard watching her full chest bounce like that. Holy shit, that pout! "Stupid, simple creatures. Good only for cumdumping fratboys, gloryholes. Piss catchers. 'Slimeboys' worse! Mindless animals all. Mahma different. Smarter. Wants more from boys than cum."

"Sorry," I apologized, trying very unsuccessfully to banish the image of her in the center of a gangbang from my mind and thus reduce the growing erection she was sitting on. Had a hard time wrapping my head around the prejudice too. I know (online) a few human women who openly crave such a life. "More like what?"

"Talk. Understanding. Being a person, not just a toy for fucking."

"Yeah, that makes my hard-on a little more embarrassing now." I knew I was blushing but it still wasn't pulling enough blood to my face from down below.

"Mahma likes the hard-on too." She smiled again and I could feel her body flow open around my erection, allowing me inside and making me gasp, then swallow hard. "And that noise."

"But my eczema?" I tried to put my mind elsewhere, if only for a moment. How did a liquid being get so damn tight? "You ate it?"

"Mahma ectomorph. Absorbs dead skin instead of dirty trash like the stupid ones. Leave Bebe clean and lovely like clients at clinic where work as massage girl. Clears pores and skin feels fresh."

"And it's good? Am I cured?" I kept looking at my arms, pink and new where the rash normally grew.

"Of itchy skin? No. Not right away. Tasty good like snack." She ran a soft hand over my head, now as bald as the day I was born. "Like this, it will come back."

"You ate... absorbed my hair?" I ran my hand over my scalp, then looked down at my arms, chest and groin, all hairless and smooth. "Hell with it. At least now I don't have to wait for it to fall out in clumps during chemo."

"No chemo for Bebe." Her smile turned sad but she kept caressing my face. "No need."

"I didn't get a chance to tell you last night but I've got a golf-ball sized..."

"'Had'." She kissed me on the lips again. "The club werewolves smelled it. Told Mahma. Bebe slept and Mahma ate it too."

"You what?!" I heard my voice crack. She'd been INSIDE me? I mean, in ways other than penetrating my ass and mouth... Her pretty translucence went a darker, cloudy pink from shame? Embarrassment?

"While Bebe slept, Mahma hunted tasties inside and took them away. To make Bebe feel good again. Doesn't Bebe feel good?"

"Bebe feels better than he has in a long, long time," I admitted, secretly happy to relieve the distraught look on her face. She does not have a face that is designed to look unhappy. Even if she DOES choose what she looks like according to whim. Pouty? Yes, because it was sexy as fuck, but sad? No. "It's just a little hard to fathom that I'm... that you went into me while I was sleeping and absorbed all those tumors just like that."

"Oh no, not all!" she corrected, perking up and getting a bit of a neon-y glow back in her cheeks. "Mahma could only consume a few. Rich tasties fill the thoughts like booze for bebes. Like full bellies make bebes sleepy."

"I didn't know you sli... ectomorphs could do that."

"Stupid ones cannot." She shook her head, which had the added effect of making her heavy round breasts wiggling back and forth. "Not clever like Mahma. Take too much. Too greedy."

"Do more harm than good." I nodded, thinking of the untapped possibilities. "You said my dry skin tasted like potato chips. My tumors?"

That got a return of the deep, husky laugh that came from deep within. Then she put a hand against my side.

"Pate de foie gras. More here than the one." My liver. The doctors had said taking my liver was a lost cause unless a transplant could be found. "Mahma will enjoy returning for more tasties."

"Petit fours glaces. Too many to have all at once." Her fingertips grazed over my stomach and I tried not to be offended that my belly tumors tasted like glazed sponge cakes.

"Palmiers. Mahma consumed all." Her fingertips stopped about where my heart would be. My x-rays suggested two between heart and lungs but it was a toss-up if they would start with those or...

"The most delicate and flavorful filet mignon. Mahma never hopes to taste it again." Her hands held my head, caressing my bare scalp and temples. I leaned forward and she let me brush her lips with my own this time. "Never again."

"That's a rich palate," I tried soothingly with a reassuring smile. "Its a wonder you aren't working in a hospital doing that."

"Sadly Mahma cannot. Doctors say Mahma needs special training." The sadness returned to her eyes. "Want to help little bebes, but tasties are like... taste like shit unless have special treatment first."

"'Special treatment'? What do you mean?" That made the mischievous smile return, one that didn't quite reach her eyes.

"Happy thoughts. Made by fucking. Flood brain and body. Make tasties much better. Like marinades." She rocked her hips against mine to illustrate her point. It was a very convincing argument.

"Yeah, can't really do that with a kid. If it's not rude, I'd like to ask about your form... your shape and something I noticed last night." Licking her lips, she nodded. "When I was eating you out, your pussy wasn't very deep. And I see you don't have a belly button or nipples. Is that normal for you?"

"This is the form most beings like when they are with Mahma. Pretty human girl with 'big boobs and a matching badonkadonk'. Not expecting to come home with a bebe so left off details." She looked down at her boobs and belly and, as we watched, areolas and nipples appeared on her round tits and a shallow navel appeared in her stomach. "No need for cunny or womb when cock can go anywhere that makes Bebe horny-happy. THAT gives Mahma pleasure."

Then she leaned back, letting the mischievous look finally come to her gleaming red eyes. Although she still held on to both of my shoulders, I felt another hand cupping and squeezing my balls.

"Chocolat and sea salt- Chef's Special!" She laughed out loud, making me laugh along with her.

"Did you just make a South Park joke about my balls?"

---------

So why am I telling you all of this? Well, the werewolf at the door sniffed out your condition and suggested we help you out. Mahma's all for it of course, but I've had to remind her that things will go more smoothly if we lay our cards out on the table and get consent first. And I'm more involved than just talking to you and telling you about my experience. The 'treatment' would be a threesome. Maybe more than one depending on how sick you are. The more pleasure you feel, the easier it is for Mahma.

So, you up for getting fucked back to good health?