You slide your trembling shaft into a glory hole, praying it isn’t the one meant for castration. Cold, bristly legs immediately swarm your glans, hundreds of tiny, chitinous feet dancing across your sensitive skin. You gasp, a jolt of pure formicophilia sparking through your terror as the centipedes coil around your cock, their segmented bodies undulating in a rhythmic, clicking mass.

“Oh, how delicious!” Catalina‘s voice vibrates through the wood. “Do they tickle, little lamb? Or are you just waiting for the bite?”

You yank your meat out, breathless and shivering, the insects leaving a lingering, electric itch. Your heart hammers against your ribs, the crushing weight of the mahogany walls fueling a dark, suffocating claustrophilia that makes your cock throb with a desperate, primal need.

“One more try,” you rasp.

You pivot in the tight space and aim for a different tiny glory hole: one that seems almost too small for your cock. As soon as your head enters the void, a pair of warm, wet lips clamp around you. A soft moan echoes from the other side.

“I’ve got you,” Lena whispers.

Her tongue swirls around your corona, sucking with a fierce, starving intensity. The sensation is an explosion of heat. Lena’s mouth is a velvet vice; she draws the length of your shaft deep into her throat. You hear the wet, sucking sound of saliva mixing with pre-cum, a rhythmic as she bobs her head, sliding up and down with expert precision.

The tightness of the coffin presses your shoulder blades into the rough grain of the wood, the lack of air making the pleasure sharper, more acute. You groan, your hips bucking instinctively, slamming your pelvis against the wall of the glory hole. Lena doesn’t flinch; she only sucks harder, her tongue flickering against your frenulum, creating a vacuum that threatens to pull your soul out through your dick.

“Yes, baby, give it to me,” she mumbles around your thickness, her voice muffled and wet.

You feel the pressure build in your balls, a molten surge of heat climbing your spine. You thrust one last time, burying yourself deep in her throat, and erupt. Thick, hot cum blasts against the back of her throat, filling her mouth. She swallows hard, the sound of her gulping your seed echoing in the small space.

Suddenly, the lid of the coffin shrieks open. Blinding light floods in. Lena is there, her soft pink and baby blue hair shimmering, her lips still glistening with your cream. You scramble out, collapsing into her arms, the two of you clinging together in a desperate, shaking embrace.

The floor vanishes. You both plummet into a swirling void of colors towards the real world.

“How dreadfully boring,” Catalina‘s voice drifts through the wind, sounding genuinely heartbroken. “My favorite plaything actually won. I shall have to find a new toy to break.”

— End of Pt 2 —