When Andrew Stafford kissed his beloved wife goodbye, he was excited. Not to be away from his adoring, empathic, and intensely affectionate wife - they had excellent boundaries - but because the job itself was exciting. Enticing. A photoshoot in French Guiana; expenses reimbursed. Two weeks away from Avonville, two weeks in the wild seeing the trees and birds and predators.
The beloved husband also knew that Mel wanted a little time. Not time to herself, no - time with the girls. Her and Katya had been planning something, since Katya’s beloved boy-toy was away. Poor Katya was getting a bit depressed, and Melanie was going to have a lovely girl’s week planned. And, after the two weeks, she told hubby , in no uncertain terms, just how absolutely, horribly, intensely erotic things were going to be when he got back.
After all, Mel was an Erotivore. She fed on the sexual energy and potency of those around her. Like all of the other women bonded with Mistform symbiotes, she had her own larder. A collection of cute little playthings, encased in rubber, stored away and squirming. Metaphorical meals for a period as Mel sapped them of erotic potential, feeding off of them, growing stronger. Rubber-loving playthings. Ingredients in her diet of joy and erotic potential.
“When you get back,” she said, “I’m going to give you the full experience. The predators in the jungle are going to be nothing compared to what we get up to in the forest.”
At least, that was, until he was told that the trip was canceled. Delayed until the Spring at the last second due to some scheduling issues. Andrew walked back into his marital house where his Erotivore wife was waiting. The trip was delayed, so the full Erotivore treatment was brought forward.
Mel bit him, filling him with venom. It wasn’t the only thing she’d be filling him with. The venom kept him satiated, healthy, and horribly, horribly horny. "Beloved, you were supposed to be out of my hair for two weeks. Distance makes the heart grow fonder, honey…" ""MM-MMGH!" as she slowly starts to cocoon him, wrapping, tapping, webbing. Staring into those erotically charged eyes go wide as she injects him and starts to wrap that head.
Moving those webbed, clawed hands over his smooth face. Opening the webbing just for a moment. "Forgot to pack your mouth. I've been getting excited now that Katya's over. No need to rush though." STUFFING it full before she kisses him, deeply, passionately, all the while covering up that sweet mouth. Maybe she has lipstick for a moment to mark him. She'd hate to lose him once he gets placed in the larder. Once hubby is rubbing, grinding, caressing, squirming, bulging against the rest of the 'meals.'
And just like that, beloved husband was just another meal for the larder. It was an all-female collection, and the pantry in the basement was just packed full of rubber-sealed ‘meals.’ They were well-cared for, but absolutely not given ‘respect.’ They were just pieces of metaphorical meat, squirming, moaning, groaning, filled, edged, and trapped in erotic bliss within their rubbery cocoons. Andrew fit in nicely; it was a snug fit, but that just meant more teasing. A bit of repositioning allowed him to join the larder. Sonia's crotch in his face, Lisa's butt against his trapped cock, Anika’s tits rubbing against his chest. The venom was taking effect as he was wrapped. It was going to be a slow motion week of erotic torment. And hubby was going to love every minute of it.
Mel wasn’t being cruel, locking hubby away in her larder. Yes, she was being a Bad Girl™ but that's just the way she is now. Besides, it turned him on. Nothing like being ravished by fearsome apex predators to get the blood pumping. Well, that or the hunts. The lead-up to his trip had been intense. She had been very bad with him; hunting him through the park after nightfall, hauling him up into a tree, spinning a web and having him right there almost in public.
Days later, a playful hunt through the house, up into her lair where she absolutely ravished him for two days. He was sucked dry. When, at the very last moment, work canceled his trip, it simply wasn’t safe for him to be home.
Ever since Mel had returned home from her time as a strange, feral Mistform-bonded Erotivore, she’d been different. Horny. Randy. Cute. Affectionate and grabby. His sex drive had been seriously charged, and they were like a pair of horny teens who simply couldn’t keep their hands off of each other. Accidents were a serious concern; he was getting ready to leave very satisfied. Hubby needed time to recuperate from that seriously intense multi-day feeding session. Therefore, the safest place for him to be was locked away in her larder, with a protective layer of fettered femmes around him, glued to him. Some “time away,” even if that meant being snugly bound and squished.
On the second day, Mel took a look at his camera gear. Andrew had been doing photography for a career and hobby alike. The best predator he ever shot was Mel, though. It was a big change. 47 years old with a body twenty years younger. Three times stronger. Better contortion than any acrobat. That was before being a rubber-coated Aphrodite, a goddess that needed humans to use and abuse. Flexible, dangerously so. Hubby was always so sweet, and Mel loved everything that came out of his mouth - be it gagged groans or generous knowledge.
He’d been teaching the locals photography at a community center. Katya was an eager pupil. Katya, the second of the Mistforms. The town’s prime mover. Blonde, svelte, fast, agile, luscious, domineering, and earnestly excited to put what she’d learned into practice.
When she showed up, Mel explained to her about hubby’s change of plans. Katya was only too happy to use this as an opportunity. Katya took her time with the photos. A few of them were pics for the wank bank; not enough time for a full photoshoot. When everyone was hale, healthy, and ‘rested,’ they’d get together for some better shoots. Mel suggested one with the packaged girls. Taking the larder out for some pics was a quick little activity. Suck up the pre-prepped ‘nutrients’ both with one of her tentacles, alter it with her alien physiology, then slide her tentacle inside hubby and pump his stomach full with the slow release nutrient slime, blended with a carefully mixed venom.
His time in the larder will be a drowsy, blissed out erotic haze, drifting in and out of dreams of his gorgeous hybrid wife as the alien healing accelerants, a gift from an unknown species assimilated by the Mist millennia ago, bring him back to full vitality in mere days. Katya tried it with Holly and learned the accelerants work just as well with humans as with Mistforms. With both of them moving swiftly it didn’t take long before hubby was snug & secure in his cocoon of mewling, writhing rubber sheathed babes, drifting off into an intensely erotic dream of his sable clad wife doing wicked things to him.
Andrew, surrounded, crushed, grinding against a half-dozen rubber-sealed women in the larder. There was something comforting and sweet when you're totally packed up. Safely crushed on all sides by writhing rubbery flesh - all of which were the creation of your beloved wife.
It was an artful arrangement of gorgeous, writhing morsels, all carefully placed for a mixture of erotic torment and aesthetic excellence. It takes work to pose squirming members of the larder. Sometimes you have to use a little more web. And if they're not moving, well, might need to take other measures to ensure they arch their back in the right way at the right time. A pinched nipple, a tentacle or two here, an ovipositor there, just right, add a little more webbing, perfect his head is sandwiched between this ones breasts & the others crotch … now let's slide this one here so his trapped erection saws against her sealed loins … Spending an entire week with visions of beauty encased, wrapped and writhing against him, absolutely gagging for it but not allowed to have him. That was for next time.
On the third day, Katya brought over takeout. They were having their girl Holly over for “dinner.” Both girls were excited to have her sealed up and ravished, and later on that week they were going to go on a Hunt out in the woods - some pop star and a friend were back to be hunted and used again… it was going to be quite a week.
Holly was a webhead, a local at the diner. She’d been spotted, scouted, recruited, and was now utterly enthralled by the goddesses that ran the town. They’d been waiting for Andrew to be out of the house to begin a bit of a ritual, but squirming downstairs was just as close as ‘out of the house.’ Mel’s home was ideal for their little project. A few months of obedient pleasure and kindly emotional support had left Holly as a prime candidate for transformation. The girls were going to fill her up with their eggs, ‘impregnating’ her and transforming her into a Mist slaveform.
This was a new development. One of the subservient types, enslaved to their wills, rubberised, flexible with enhanced senses. Not a Mistform per se, but with some of their properties, much more durable, stretchy and capable of feeling more intensely. It was like seasoning. It made for a better meal.
Holly was just the first. Over time, all of their larder denizens will have to be upgraded. More pleasure, more senses, more of a thrall to the women. One at a time. Which requires milking hubby dry of every last drop to ensure proper fertilization of each egg. He wasn’t going to be able to even see straight.
The girl was chosen in part because she'd be the absolute best little assistant. Holding the husband still. Helping with the lighting. Hot heat, making him sweat as Katya gets a camera ready. Afterwards, when he's nice and locked in the larder, rubbing, groaning, moaning, begging. Holly's will was that of her mistress; and that included seeing beloved husband getting locked, like a piece of common meat, with the other girls.
The whole idea of upgrading the larder came from Melanie, hence why it was her house that was being used for these two weeks. Melanie has been experimenting with her larder, taking them to their limits, sucking their blood, pumping them full of eggs. It was out of kindness, really. She did it because she wanted her beloved to experience every aspect of the Erotivore lifestyle; she'd been trying it out with them so she gets it just right with the love of her life. Having Holly help out as a literal extension of her will was going to make it even better.
The girl’s week together was more than just erotic pleasure. It was important on an emotional level. This was also a chance to talk things through with Katya. Holly was nicely packed up, squirming on the bed like a pillow as Katya and Mel really had the chance to discuss things. Namely, Mel had real feelings for Katya. Not that she didn’t love her husband, too… but that she felt like she had more love to give. She could love them both at the same time; sharing her beloved with her other beloved. Katya naturally agreed. Mistforms could take it to a whole new level. With their empathic sense, they’d have a three way emotional bonding.
It really was valuable. Some girl time while the larder moans and bumps and grinds and rubs up against Hubby, making sure he was enjoying himself in a dreamy erotic haze while they're out discussing. Andrew couldn’t figure out if time was speeding up or slowing down. Mostly, it seemed like it passed in no time at all; timeless hours spent in hazy pleasure. He was a big part of their discussion, after all.
“I care deeply, deeply about of the both of you,” said Mel a bit nervously. “We have something special.”
“I feel the same way,” intoned Katya. “Our relationship is strong. I don't want to hide or deny that."
“Nor I,” said Melanie. “But we have to be clear about what’s being suggested.”
“I just think we can be honest with our lovers and each other. Endorse a more open and inclusive way of being together. It means we can explore romantic and sexual connections with others while maintaining our bonds. It’s a big step, I know, but we can communicate. We don’t even need words. Our partners, I know, will be open to it. Communication. Boundaries. Spaces for discussion. It’s a bit scary, I know…”
“Not as scary as you are when you’re hungry,” said Mel. And she was right. This was less of a challenge than reintegrating into Avonville. Hubby was going to love it. At the end of the week, they took it out and explained this all while stroking his encased, packed up face. Gently letting him moan, blushing, mewling. Husband’s mind was relatively clear compared to when he was in the larder, so they could discuss rules , emotional space, and of course, how they're going to absolutely wreck him - together. He was delighted.
The second week came quickly. A period of negotiation and careful timing, Mel and Katya had their Mistform eggs fertilized by their respective partners. The next step was to fill up and impregnate Holly, then wrap her up tight for the transformation.
"Holly is about to ascend, honey. Don't you want to watch?" Fall rains. Dark outside. Whirring leaves and wind. It was like watching Frankenstein making his monster. Hubby was glued to the wall like a hostage to see Holly’s apotheosis, and the moment it was done, Katya and Mel were going to absolutely wreck him. He was throbbing with delight.
Holly emerged as a new mist slaveform, looking more or less the same. A bit paler, a bit more curvaceous, a bit more toned. Save the hair on her head, she was hairless; skin with a soft and satin sheen. Warm, slightly rubbery. Like all of those who had breathed the mist, she was more flexible, stretchy, and her stamina was vastly increased. Everything felt a bit more intense for the young woman. Orgasms were deeper, longer, and more ‘nutritious’ for the hungry Erotivores.
She also now naturally produced the alien healing accelerants, no more three week medical time-outs for this orgasmic energizer bunny. Holly was resplendent. And it was just the start. MistMatt was asking about his lover - the head librarian Laura, and Katya proposed she be the second to become akin to Holly. And eventually, Andrew too - or something like it.
Two women pressed up against the beloved member of their circle, squeezing him against the wall. He thrashed a bit, squirming on the web-bed and opening his mouth. He sucked in something akin to air, filtered through thick and unyielding rubber. Tasted it; tasting his wife, tasting futility. The panicked feeling of fear, arousal penetrating his soul. His beloved wife was seeing to his every need, yes. She was so honest and open about his emotions, and cared so deeply. And he couldn’t get away, even if he wanted; couldn’t hope to break free of his rubber cocoon or her grip no matter what. Two Mistforms whispered into his ears about how they were going to ovipost eggs deep inside, fill him up, pack him to the brim as pseudo-symbiotes. Web up his mouth, his ears, his rear, make him groan and bulge with all of their love. He was nearly hyperventilating in his webby prison, feeling their tails, their fingers, their faces gently nuzzling him.
Hubby was lucky. He was loving every single moment of it, and he always would.