Hydra in the Maiden's Village, part 2

By PrinnyDood

Estril ran as fast as her toned legs could carry her, through the moonlit grassy field, towards the sleeping village of Sweetpetal. She seemed to have thrown off her pursuer, but time was still critical. With a population of several hundred beautiful, unsuspecting elven women, two hydras could eat a significant portion of their number before being satiated.

Two hydras! It was unthinkable, yet the proof could not be denied. The town needed to be warned, and possibly evacuated, before anyone else was eaten. She had no way to guess how the rest of the Rangers had fared, but there was little hope they had felled one of the hydras. Hopefully most of them had gotten away, and would meet back up with her.

When Estril reached the outskirts, her heart leaped into her throat at what she saw. The nearest house had been ransacked, windows broken, front door torn from its hinges to lay broken on the lawn. The next-door house revealed the culprit – the hydra's huge, snake-like body, all three heads occupied intruding into the windows. Before her eyes, living bulges rippled down long throats, one after another, before settling into the beast's thick middle.

For a moment Estril wondered how it had gotten ahead of her . . . until she spotted a second, and third hydra further in. Both stealthily moving house-to-house, harvesting the sleeping elf-maidens from their beds until each dwelling was picked clean of nubile females, before moving to the next. Stomachs growing more visibly swollen with each elven woman added to their feast.

Estril's mouth went dry with horror at the implications. How many were there? And no alarm had yet been raised, as each hapless elven girl was silenced with predatory efficiency, muffled cries reaching no one as they were packed down into slimy, crowded stomachs.

Yet Estril didn't dare cry out warning in the middle of the streets, and call attention to herself. Even with full foreknowledge and preparation, her squad of Rangers couldn't possibly slay this many hydras. Given the severity of the situation, her responsibilities were clear: do whatever she could to minimize the losses in Sweetpetal, and then escape to the Capitol where the Empress could be informed of the situation. Only with the full strength of the Empress's elite guard could an entire den of hydras be exterminated.

In a rural, fringe settlement like Sweetpetal, the local Priestesses wouldn't be skilled enough in divine magic to even inconvenience a hydra, but with luck they might have some way to spread the word.

Estril just needed to get to them without being being spotted by the gauntlet of ravenous hydras.

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Rimmi lay in the comfortable security of her soft, safe bed, the silky feel of the sheets on her bare skin decidedly sensual. Perky, petite and vibrantly beautiful, Rimmi's short green hair framed her lovely, impishly youthful face as she reclined upon her pillow.

The dormitory was quiet and peaceful, rows of beds against each wall, where the other elven girls rested after their day of musical endeavors.

Dozing in the pleasant space between waking and sleep, Rimmi's mind was anywhere but on music. She wiggled her hips, enjoying the silky feel on her bare legs and bottom, as she let her thoughts wonder to the woman sleeping across the room from her.

Xalla was taller and more curvaceous than Rimmi, her beautiful blonde hair so long it always waved teasingly across her perfect, delicious backside when she walked. Rimmi squeezed her legs together in sensual delight as she imagined running her fingers through that hair . . . trailing her lips across those full, flawless breasts . . .

“Mmmm . . .” Rimmi moaned to herself, too soft for anyone to hear, but her restraint was very near its limit.

Her relationship with Xalla had been gradually drifting toward the sensual in recent years. Small gestures and flirtatious little comments adding up as they oh-so-slowly, carefully danced toward one another day-by-day. The delicious anticipation of their unspoken attraction drawing them closer and closer to the inevitable climax . . . normally Rimmi relished the slow buildup of romantic dalliances, but Xalla was especially coy and teasingly playful in her reciprocation, ensuring she appeared frequently in Rimmi's dreams.

The past few nights especially, Rimmi found herself looking eagerly forward to the moment they would finally come together . . . the glorious feel of their naked bodies pressing together . . . the longs nights they would spend in the throes of exhausting, passionate lovemaking.

Rimmi moaned to herself again, squeezing her thighs together as she bit her bottom lip gently. The anticipation always made the final payoff more orgasmic and gratifying . . . but there was only so much she could stand. Perhaps now was the time . . . if she sidled over to Xalla's bed that very night, surely she would be welcomed . . . they would slink off to a more private place, and then . . .

Her idle fantasies were interrupted when Rimmi felt a cool breeze flutter over her bare skin. She murmured and drew her blanked up over her shoulders . . . but she had closed the window behind her bed, she was nearly certain. She shivered again, and this time it had nothing to do with the cold. Goosebumps trailed her delicate flesh as a feeling of inexplicable but profound, primal dread filled her.

Heart fluttering for no concrete reason, Rimmi propped herself up on her elbow and glanced back to the window behind her bed. The window was open. A long, serpentine neck intruded through, the huge reptilian head staring at her from less than a foot away.

“Aa-mmph!!” Quick as lightning, the creature's tongue slithered out, coiling around her waist and chest, the tip wrapping across her mouth like a gag. Her attempts to scream were soundly muffled, while hot, sticky saliva slathered across her naked skin.

She kicked her legs and tried to make enough noise to wake any of the other elven women slumbering so close, but the soft bedding absorbed any sound her struggles might have made. The monstrous maw drew her in feet-first, her panic and desperation surging as her legs and hips passed smoothly into the gooey, sweltering mouth.

Glancing to and fro wildly in search on any help, Rimmi saw only the opposite – several more of those snake-like heads were creeping through other windows. Agile tongues snaring the nubile elven maidens from their beds. Covering their mouths to quiet their cries, as they were slurped in and gulped down one-after-another.

But rather than swallow her immediately, the head holding Rimmi instead craned over to where Xalla lay, peacefully oblivious as she slept, a tiny smile on her perfect lips.

“Mmmh! Mmmgh!!” Rimmi tried to moan out a warning, but Xalla was a heavy sleeper, remaining unperturbed as the creature moved to the foot of her bed. Xalla's placid slumber came to an abrupt end when the hydra scooped her up, that perfect, naked, silken body sliding into sudden, acute contact with Rimmi.

“Ohh! Whaa . . . ? Wh-what?!” Xalla gasped and squeaked in confusion as she and Rimmi were pressed together face-to-face, abundant saliva gushing up to coat nubile flesh. The monstrous tongue wasted hardly a moment before repositioning, coiling and cinching the pair of elven girls together so snugly even their lips met in a sudden mock-kiss.

Mmph?! Mmmmh!” Rimmi and Xalla squirmed against each other and moaned as the tongue finally drew them in fully, and the hydra's jaws closed carefully around them, without so much as nicking their delicate flesh.

Still wrapped tight in their slimy mock-embrace, both elf-girls wriggled as they were urged back toward the throat. Silky, well-lubricated legs were drawn into fleshy tightness, their feminine hips and round bottoms squeezing in, slowing progress only briefly.

The beast swallowed powerfully, inciting Rimmi and Xalla to squirm all the more frantically, as they were pulled down into the throat's overwhelming embrace. Squashed together so tight Rimmi could barely breath, mouth still pressed against Xalla's lips, the rippling throat squeezed them down, down, down. Deeper and deeper, ever closer to the unimaginable horrors that lay in store.

At last the stomach welcomed them, their legs gliding past the final barrier, and into a tangle of other bare, writhing female bodies.

“Mmmmmgh!!” Rimmi moaned into Xalla's mouth in helpless horror, as they were squeezed and squashed down into the roiling, slimy midst of the numerous other doomed elf-girls.

A chorus of distressed, musical voices filled Rimmi's ears, gasping and mewling in plaintive desperation. Bare, silky skin slid frictionless against her, while feminine hands clutched blindly at her back and thigh. A squirming figure with especially full breasts squashed in against Rimmi and Xalla's side, her breathless voice suddenly right in Rimmi's ear.

“Nnhaa! Nnnoo . . .” Rimmi could only moan in absolute helplessness and horror, pressed tight face-to-face with Xalla still, surrounded by slimy, feminine bodies and hot, thick goo.

Before she could begin to come to terms with her new position on the food chain, the stomach clenched harshly, a rolling contraction that squeezed everyone even tighter together. This in turn had the effect of pressing Rimmi and Xalla's lips back together into another unintended mock-kiss.

The squeezing, claustrophobic tightness lasted for some time, leaving Rimmi barely able to breath around Xalla's lips. Finally it relaxed enough for them to separate and take staccato, panting breaths in the slimy, crowded darkness.

But all too soon the stomach kneaded again, enforcing another helpless kiss upon the doomed pair, and more long moments of straining to move or breath. Over and over the merciless stomach churned away, repeating the process in a dizzying onslaught of overwhelming, conflicting sensations.

In all Rimmi's fantasies about being pressed against a naked, writhing Xalla, none of them had been anything like the reality unfolding before her.

And by the slow, patient way the stomach continued to work them over, it seemed like their unbearable ordeal was just getting started . . . and unlikely to get more pleasant in the long hours that lay ahead.

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Flitting silently through the sleeping town, Estril approached the temple unopposed. The hydras she bypassed never noticed her, their sharp senses fully preoccupied on far easier prey, as they swept through the town, gorging themselves near-silently upon tender, delicate flesh. Innumerable elf-girls plucked from innocent slumber directly into salivating, gulping maws. Pleasant dreams transforming into nightmarish reality, as they were swallowed alive, squashed down into squeezing, sweltering stomachs to be slowly digested alive.

When Estril reached the temple's side-entrance, she didn't bother to knock. The door was unlocked, and lead through a short passage too narrow for a hydra to follow.

The layout of the temples was always the same, the main hall dominated by a central pool of spring-water where the priestesses worshiped. The main doors were closed and made from heavy oak reinforced by steel – enough to keep the hydras out, possibly indefinitely. Anyone who made it inside would be fairly safe.

The relief was palpable, once Estril was no longer vulnerable to attack at any moment, but she couldn't afford to linger.

The bedchamber of the ranking priestess was only a short distance away, and the entrance was unlocked. Estril simply slammed the door open and strode inside. “Wake up, we need to-”

The head priestess wasn't asleep. Or alone. Two other elven women shared the large, luxurious bed with her. One with her face buried between the thighs of the head priestess, while the other was in the process of lavishing her bare breasts with attention using lips and tongue.

“Eeeh! What!? H-how dare you?!” the head priestess squealed in dismay.

Estril felt her face and ears going warm, but kept her expression neutral. “I'm Estril, a Ranger in service of the Queen's huntmistress, and this town is in a state of severe emergency,” Estril said brusquely.

“I . . . eehh? Umm, wh-what?” the high priestess stammered, torn between anger, embarrassment and confusion. “You can't j-just . . .”

“Get dressed, and follow me. I assume you have enough magic to send a message over the whole town?”

“Ahhh, ah y-yes, of course. Greetings Ranger Estril, I am Vlounha. I just need a moment.”

Vlounha slipped out of bed, and spoke some orders to the pair of acolytes under her breath, causing them to scurry off.

The high priestess was a radiantly beautiful woman, tall with long, wavy deep purple hair. Her figure was exceptionally well-endowed in the most desirable places, her magnificent breasts jiggling as she wiggled into her tight-fitting garments.

To her credit, Vlounha managed to get dressed and composed in swift fashion, and soon looked the very picture of radiant dignity, if still a tiny bit ruffled. By the time she was done, the two she had sent away had roused the rest of the acolytes, and by unspoken agreement, they all moved to the central place of warship, a huge, wide area dominated by that massive spring-fed pool. The two acolytes who had been in bed with Vlounha stood out among their peers, blushing and fidgeting in embarrassment.

The moment everyone was assembled, Estril spoke up. “The town is in dire peril from hydras.”

“A hydra?!” Vlounha gasped, while the acolytes whispered and murmured in disbelief.

“A whole den of them, in the town, now,” Estril said forcefully. “This temple is the only building fortified enough to keep them out. Priestesses usually make announcements by magnifying their voices. Can you send a message out for everyone to get to the temple?”

“O-of course,” Vlounha said, clutching at the robes over her chest. “But the sound will originate above the temple, I can't 'throw' it further . . . and won't that attract the hydras?”

Estril nodded. “It will. And one in particular – the largest, cleverest one of the den. The only one large enough to be laying eggs.”

Vlounha glanced at the huge, fortified doors that stood between them and a village swarming with hydras. “That doesn't sound like something we want to do . . .”

“If they break down the main doors, we'll have nowhere to hide!” one of the acolytes squeaked fearfully.

Estril locked her eyes upon the still pool of water that dominated the room. “Not long ago, a temple like this one was breached by a hydra. Princess Zimith Londram, and all the initiates and priestesses in attendants, were devoured and digested alive.”

“Oh Goddess! How is that possible?!” one acolyte squeaked in panic.

“What do we do?!” another gasped in dismay.

“That pool is spring-fed, just like the lake nearby,” Estril went on calmly. “The underwater caves in this area are numerous and spacious. The hydra didn't break down the main doors. It found an underwater passage, came up right through their fountain.”

“This fountain is spring-fed too – all of them in this area are,” Vlounha said, her voice tight. “if this area isn't secure, what do we do?”

“That depends how skilled you and your acolytes are. You typically learn warming and cooling magic for summer and winter, correct?”

Vlounha nodded. “Yes, I trained for years to become a mystic ranger, but I could never pass the physical exams, so . . .”

“That's excellent news. How quickly could you freeze that water? If you worked together with the acolytes trained in magecraft?”

“Oh! Ummm, a few feet would be fairly quick, but deeper takes longer. We'll start immediately, and-”

Estril held up a hand. “No. Send the announcement to warn the village. Then get ready, but don't start until I say.”

Vlounha looked back and forth nervously. “W-what? Why!?”

Estril frowned. “The Alpha Hydra is fertile. Laying eggs. If there's a chance I can kill it now, I have to take it. Otherwise, there's no telling how many more there could be, by the time I can mobilize the Royal Guard.”

“But if we fail . . .”

“The smaller hydras won't be able to tear the temple's main gate down, I don't think. But the Alpha Hydra . . . I'm not so sure. And what do you think its next move will be, if it swims down and finds the way blocked by ice? Just give up?”

Vlounha looked back and forth between the fountain and the closed gates unhappily. “So, your plan . . . ?”

“As soon as it starts to emerge, freeze the water around it as fast as you can. Keep it restrained and distracted, and I'll do the rest.”

“We won't be able to hold it long, are you sure about this?”

“No. There's probably a good chance we fail, and all get devoured. But that's true whatever we do – you have to hope the temple can keep the hydras out, and I have to sneak my way clear and get back to the Capitol. We have to work together to try this. If you think it's too risky, I have to go now, and you can do whatever you want with the warning I gave you.”

“ . . . no, I think your judgment is probably correct,” Vlounha said reluctantly. “I'll send a warning to the village at once, and then get ready.”

Once the priestesses had broadcast their warning to the village, and everyone was in position, there was nothing left to do, but wait.

And the wait was agonizing, the hardest stretch of poised readiness Estril had ever endured, heart hammering in her chest as she focused all her attention upon the pool of still water. A small group of disheveled, alarmed looking elf-girls in silken night-clothes arrived, but Estril ignored them, while one of the acolytes apprised them of the situation.

The only warning she got was a hint of shadowy movement below the surface.

“Now!!” Estril called sharply, drawing her bow as the priestesses chanted their song-like spell.

A half-foot of ice had already formed by the time the Alpha Hydra emerged, breaking it apart into slush with the sheer size and power of its body. But the unexpected barrier seemed to confuse the creature, one head snapping at the chunks of floating ice, while the other two shook slush from their brows.

Heart racing with adrenaline, Estril took aim at the head closest to the water, biting at the ice still, and fired three arrows in quick succession. The first two glanced off its brow-ridge and jaw respectively, while the third lodged shallowly into its soft-palette.

Estril darted straight at the hydra, the water re-freezing below her feet as she stepped. She drew another arrow and leaped at the head still fighting the ice, landing astride its scaly neck. In a lightning quick motion she stabbed the arrow into its eye bare-handed, and jumped back, kicking the shaft hard enough to bury it two-thirds into the monster's brain.

The head went limp, but she had the creature's full attention, now.

The central and left heads darted down at her, but with the beast's main body bogged down in the ice, its attack came up short, allowing Estril to dodge aside. Its serpentine body thrashed against the ice, crushing and smashing, but Vlounha and the priestesses continued to do their part, refreezing the water around the raging hydra.

Weaving around the creature's wild motions, Estril smoothly retrieved another arrow from the quiver on her back, aiming at the left head as it swept down at her. Quick as lightning, she loosed four rapid shots, three clattering off its armored skull, but the fourth hit home. She couldn't see the eye-shot as the head thrashed, but proof of her success was absolute when it dropped like a felled tree – the second head down. The dead weight of two-out-of-three heads slowed and hobbled the beast, allowing the ice to harden around its impenetrable bulk.

Estril knew exactly what it would do next, and strung a final arrow, drawing her bow taut. The remaining central head proved perfectly predictable, dipping down toward the one on the left, aiming to tear the arrow from its eye-socket. Estril darted forward around the fallen left head and onto the ice, to ensure her final shot couldn't miss.

Just before it could get hold of the arrow-shaft, Estril fired at point-blank, giving it no time to react. Her aim was unerring at such close range, her arrow piercing the beast's eye and into its skull flawlessly. The final head dropped with a meaty thud, and she allowed herself to relax and breath a long, shaky sigh of relief.

Turning back to Vlounha and her priestesses, Estril flashed them a salute. “Good work, but don't stop, keep building up as much ice as possible, so the smaller ones can't-haaa!?”

Estril gasped as she felt something fleshy and powerful seize and circle her waist, pinning her arms under hot, slimy tissue.

“What?! Nha, noo!” Writhing and kicking her legs, Estril was lifted off her feet by the prehensile tongue, as the hydra roused itself. Only one head – the leftmost one holding her – was active, ice creaking and cracking as its serpentine body broke free of the freezing waters.

The priestesses lost their nerve as one, shrieking in disorganized panic, as the hydra snaked forward, deftly positioning its bulk to block the only exit.

“Noo! H-how!!? Estril gasped out, twisting to look back at the head holding her. It was easy to see now, up close, that while her arrow had pierced the eye, it had not gone deep enough, just short of reaching the brain.

Had the beast played dead to deliberately trick her? Or had its brain been nicked enough to stun, but not inhibit its regeneration? There was no way to know, and it seemed unlikely to ever never matter regardless.

The tongue asserted total control, slimy, powerful coils holding her limbs, while the tip burrowed under her clothes. Cloth shredded under a series of rolling undulations, stripping her naked in a matter of second, until every inch of her pert flesh was slathered in hot, thick, sticky saliva. Gasping and straining it horrible anticipation, Estril was baffled when it didn't slurp her down next. Instead, the hydra craned its head back around to its serpentine body, and then used its tongue to push Estril face-down against its scaly stomach.

“Mmmph-ghaaa!” Estril gasped in confusion and turned her face aside as the huge tongue slavered across her back, pinning her spread-eagle onto the beast's flank. And when the tongue withdrew, she found the abundance of saliva covering her lithe body had glued her firmly in place.

“Ahh, hnnaa!” Straining and wriggling, Estril had no leverage, and could barely stretch the adhesive saliva an inch before it snapped her back into place.

With Estril restrained, the hydra proceeded to deftly remove the arrows from its other heads, restoring itself to full motility. Even the eyes themselves regenerated in moments, blinking a few times before all traces of damage were gone.

Now fully recovered, free of the ice, and blocking the only exit, the hydra turned its attention toward Vlounha and the hysterical priestesses. They were helpless to resist or escape now, shrieking in terror as its three heads went to work, plucking them from their feet and slurping them in one-after-another. Those caught gasped and moaned in overwhelmed protests, as huge, slimy tongues stripped them naked with ease . . . mewled helplessly as they were drawn down and swallowed alive. Each powerful gulp sending another shapely, squirming bulge down those long, serpentine necks. All the while, the scaly stomach where Estril was glued grew rounder and tighter, muffled cries and pleas horribly acute.

Vlounha had not lost herself to total panic however. While the hydra's heads were busy, she crouched down next to a boulder-sized chunk of displaced ice, and chanted a quick spell. The ice flowed, surrounding and concealing her, until no sign of her lovely figure was visible.

The quick-thinking of the head priestess did little for her acolytes however, who wailed and babbled in desperate horror as the last few were gathered up. Efficiently stripped until every inch of healthy, luscious flesh was revealed and thoroughly coated in rolling saliva. They could only mewl in helpless horror as the hydra swallow them down to the last.

All Estril's instincts to fight or escape had nowhere to go, helplessly bound to the hydra's swollen belly. Her fervid imagination painting a far-too-vivid picture to match those muffled moans and whimpers issuing non-stop from inside. A picture of healthy, nubile bodies bathed in slime, sliding and pressing against each other as they squirmed, each one utterly helpless and doomed to endure the cruel rigors of a slow-working digestive system.

And somehow the horror-show grew even worse, as Estril observed a new form emerging from the icy waters. Another hydra, this one barely half the size, yet no less intimidating for it. Before her eyes, more and more younger hydras emerged, until there were twelve of the massive creatures filling the spacious room. Some had bellies already bulging with devoured elf-maidens, while others were still sleek and underfed. The Alpha hydra then proceeded to inexplicably move its bulk clear of the side-exit, as though to taunt Estril with an escape path she couldn't reach.

But her confusion became dreadful realization as soon as Estril saw a group of harried elf-girls arriving through that side-passage. They barely had time to squeal before the hydras struck. Snatched from their feet into hungry, salivating maws, lovely bodies struggling and gyrating as slimy tongues coiled and stripped them naked. Each gasping, wailing voice muffled by a voracious gulp, each beautiful maiden sent rippling helplessly down sinewy throats.

The nightmarish evening proceeded with horrible consistency. The beasts were shockingly clever and coordinated – a handful of already-full hydras remained outside to herd the lovely citizens of Sweetpetal to the temple, where they fled directly into the waiting maws of doom. Combined with the message Estril and the Priestesses had sent, the predators were able to eat their way through the village without opposition.

Countless innocent, achingly beautiful elven maidens were delivered to horrible, unjust fates. While the hydras grew more and more full with each hapless girl swallowed down, tight stomachs gurgling and churning as their helpless occupants moaned and writhed and pleaded for help that would never come.

By the time the stream of lovely maidens petered out and finally ended, the entire group of hydras were fully stuffed and satiated. Each reptilian stomach swollen tight with their still-living harvest of luscious feminine flesh. The primal beasts stretched out and basked in merciless satisfaction, while their stomachs worked methodically upon the languishing elf-girls.

Seemingly forgotten, Estril remained still and quiet, glued securely to the stuffed belly of the largest hydra. But all hope she had been overlooked was dispelled when it leaned its central head down, and coiled its tongue out to retrieve her.

“Nnhaaa!” Estril gasped and struggled at the fresh feel of slimy tongue circling her legs and up her waist. It slurped her into its mouth up to her chest, but then paused with her held and dominated utterly in its power.

Her panic and desperation surging, Estril still did not let her instincts overtake her completely. She strained and arched against the muscular coils of tongue, barely managing to wiggle one arm free, to uselessly clutch at the monster's impenetrable head. As she was drawn in bit-by-bit, her eyes found one last sliver of possibility.

One of her arrows had broken off, lodged between diamond-hard scales below the hydra's eye, just the arrowhead and a few inches of shaft. She reached out with a gasp of desperate strength, and wrenched the broken arrow free. She stabbed the razery steel arrowhead into the soft tissue of the tongue holding her again and again in quick, sharp motions.

A single heartbeat passed before it reacted, shaking its head, tongue writhing in response to the stabs. With the tongue's hold compromised, Estril was able to squirm loose, pushing with her legs until she slipped free of the mouth. Naked, slimy and suddenly in free-fall, Estril caught her orientation just in time, rolling as she hit the hard stone floor. Inches behind her the hydra's maw lunged past, as she righted herself.

Less than a second to assess her situation. More than a dozen hydras, several now aiming their attentions at her. Herself, naked and unarmed except for a broken arrowhead clenched in her fist. Exit blocked by lounging, serpentine hydras.

Only two options – accept a horrific doom digesting in a hydra's stomach, or gamble on a preposterously unlikely escape plan . . . which was no gamble at all, considering.

Taking as deep of breaths as she could, Estril dashed past the Alpha Hydra, dodged a lazy bite from one of the smaller ones, and dove headfirst into the central pool.

The frigid liquid burned across her bare skin, and it was all she could do to resist gasping in lungfuls of water. Diving deeper and deeper, the temperature became only marginally more tolerable as she moved beyond the floating ice chunks that still littered surface.

The winding series of underground springs and cavers were like a maze, but her keen eyes could see in even the dimmest light, and her Ranger training had taught her to hold her breath for extended periods. But most important, she knew the hydra had come through this way, so any passage too narrow for a monstrous three-headed serpent was safe to ignore.

All her most base instincts impelled her to glance back to see if she was being pursued, but she kept her eyes forward – her only hope was getting through fast: seeing a pursuer before it struck did her no good.

The spacious underwater passages seemed to go on forever, her arms and legs burning with exhaustion, her lungs screaming for oxygen. But she didn't stop, and the feel of a mouth closing over her from behind did not manifest.

The sight of silvery moonlight glinting from above was a relief so overwhelming she wanted to weep. Instead she struggled through the final distance, and broke the surface at last, gasping and sputtering as she made her way to the bank.

By the time she was back on solid ground, there was still no sign of pursuit. It seemed none of the hydras had been motivated enough to go after her, slow and bloated as they were with their feast.

Estril set her jaw and tried to focus on the practical, but no amount of stoicism could totally banish thoughts of her fellow Rangers – not to mention the entire population of Sweetpetal – suffering a far different and less fortunate fate than Estril. It was possible some of the other Rangers had slipped away, but with so many hydra . . . Estril doubted it. More likely everyone was currently enduring the horrors of digesting alive in the slow-working hydra stomachs. Stomachs specifically designed by an evil Goddess, to inflict the harshest, cruelest, most humiliating of punishments upon delicate, innocent elven maidens . . . or so the stories claimed.

Which left Estril with a choice – she could head directly back to the capitol to inform the Queen . . . but the trip would take months. Months where the Hydras would be free to gorge upon the surrounding villages, digest countless elf-maidens, and grow larger, stronger and tougher.

Instead, she could detour to the next closest village. There messenger-birds could be sent to the capitol and other nearby villages to warn them of the danger. This seemed the obvious course, except . . . the hydras would also be drawn to the nearest congregation of elven women. Estril would have several days head start while they lounged and digested . . . but once on the move, the hydras would be far, far faster than her. It seemed all-too-plausible she would reach the village late . . . and be greeted by nothing but full, digesting hydras.

Both options were a risk – a messenger-bird successfully sent would reach the capitol quickest by far . . . yet if the village were overrun ahead of her, it would waste precious time. And if Estril were caught and eaten herself, there was no telling how long it would be before news reached the Queen.

And with at least one fully adult, reproductively viable hydra, the more time passed, the worse it could get. A dozen hydras was a disaster, but manageable, if the full force of the Queen's Guard was mobilized. But if they were allowed to multiply unchecked . . . how long before even the Queen was no longer safe? How long before their entire civilization of beautiful elven women were in mortal peril?

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Vlounha shivered, blind and immobile, as the cold gradually seeped into her vulnerable flesh.

Surrounded by the magicked ice, she was fully concealed and safe from the hydras, but holding back the cold was already straining her will. Her magic kept the temperature against her skin more like a brisk fall evening than solid ice, but her flesh was damp and barely covered. If only she had known to don her winter clothes . . .

It was impossible to know what was happening outside, with the hydras, but Vlounha did not suspect good news. Most likely, everyone else was already eaten, enduring the slimy, cramped, sweltering ministrations of predatory stomachs.

If it came to it, Vlounha would sooner freeze than suffer such a fate, but if she waited long enough, the hydras would simply move on. It would be excruciatingly uncomfortable, exhausting and boring, but she could hold out for days, if needed. And with all the elf maidens gone, the hydras had no reason to linger, once they had finished digesting.

As time crawled by, Vlounha couldn't help thinking back to her education. The section on hydras specifically. The stories how they sprang into existence from seemingly nowhere. The various theories about their origins. Some naturalists claimed they were an embodiment of the natural order itself, compelled to correct an 'imbalance' caused by elven immortality. Others argued they had fallen from a parallel dimension, native to a world infinitely more savage. But the most popular theory held that they had been crafted by the dark hands of a spiteful Goddess, as a curse upon all elf maidens. It certainly wasn't hard to imagine, with the way they insatiably hunted elven women, always devouring them whole and alive. And their unique, specialized stomachs digesting prey slowly for days of unimaginable torment.

And the only thing all theories seemingly agreed upon was the most unsettling part of all – that the spirits of anyone eaten by a hydra were subsequently banished to a cruel afterlife. Instead of the blissful paradise they deserved, such unlucky souls found themselves in a primeval spirit-jungle swarming with demonic reptiles . . . hunted and devoured once again . . . condemned to endure digestion a second, utterly final time until every trace of their souls were consigned to oblivion.

The thought of such a hideous fate was enough to make Vlounha shudder, never mind the cold. The idea that all the hapless, innocent elf-girls of Sweetpetal were doomed to just such a destiny was almost too cruel to imagine.

Vlounha's disturbing thoughts were interrupted by a strange squelching noise just outside her icy sanctuary. She jumped and trembled, holding her breath in sudden, spiking fear.

The odd sound repeated, over and over. As she gazed, tense and still at the layers of ice in front of her face, Vlounha could see some sort of dark shadow moving rhythmically on the other side.

She didn't have long to ponder what it might mean, before the ice surrounding her head and shoulders crumbled away.

“Ohh! Aaah!” Vlounha moaned out instinctively, as the chilled flesh of her neck and breasts was assaulted by hot, slathering goo. The imposing central head of the Alpha Hydra gazed at her from a few feet away. Its long tongue lapped out again, squelching across her face and chest, before licking lower, upon the ice that covered the rest of her.

“Haa! Oh, oh! Oh noo-haa!!” Vlounha gasped, drawing her magic to wrap more ice around her before it was too late. Yet her will was exhausted, and her concentration frayed. Ice had barely begun to creep back up her chest, when the hydra's tongue returned to her upper half. There was no chance of sufficient concentration whilst a hydra's tongue lavished wet and gooey across her face and chest. She could only moan and cringe, as the tongue's hot, abundant saliva melted her protection away bit-by-bit, exposing more and more of her gorgeous, voluptuous body to the organ's gooey advances.

The fleeting seconds before her fate was sealed swept by all too quick, and soon the hydra's patient tongue was able to reach down to her waist. Thicker than her arm and impossibly strong and slick, all attempts to shove the tongue away were futile, as it worked its way under her silken top, and tore it away like paper.

“Nnnnhaa!” Vlounha gasped and squeaked, panting in disheveled helplessness, as the hydra slathered saliva over her bare breasts . . . coiling and licking up and down her exposed skin. Every second just a little more ice melting away. Chilled flesh growing uncomfortably warm as the tongue relished her flavor and texture. Soon her hips, thighs and curvaceous buttocks were uncovered, allowing the tongue to glide between her quivering legs, up across her bottom and back, curling and surrounding her possessively.

“Ohh! Ahh, haa, p-please! N-nooh!” Vlounha whimpered at the almost erotic feel of the tongue's hefty girth slithering between her thighs. Then lower still, past her knees, as the final bits of enclosing ice were melted.

With its treat finally free of all obstruction, the hydra lifted Vlounha delicately from her former hiding place, and into its salivating maw. With just her head and shoulders still dangling outside, the sudden, intense shift from chilly to sweltering air made Vlounha gasp and pant. The hideous tongue lavished her bare flesh in slimy attention – groping, slithering and coiling every inch of her nubile body in turn.

The Alpha Hydra lifted the head holding her high, looking over its progeny who's serpentine forms filled the once-sacred place. Each massive, multi-headed reptile lazing upon taut, distended stomachs packed to capacity with live, squirming elf girls. Surely the entire population of Sweetpetal, or nearly so, were accounted for. Hundreds of beautiful, innocent elf-maidens, all enduring the slimy, roiling ministrations of the hydra-stomachs.

The Alpha Hydra gazed back and forth upon the scene of unimaginable horrors, forcing Vlounha to look as well, as though gloating over the total conquest of the maidens of Sweetpetal, and the slow, rigorous digestion they would endure in the hours and days to come.

Eventually the hydra was satisfied in relishing its victory, and the tongue holding Vlounha began to slowly draw her deeper into the saliva-thick mouth.

With the sensation of thick, gushing saliva swelling up over her breasts and back, the terrible reality of her own plight snapped into the forefront of Vlounha's mind.

“Oh! Ohh, ahhh!! Noo!” Vlounha squirmed and moaned out in redoubled horror, but nothing could lesson the irresistible hold of tongue and mouth around her. She squeezed her eyes shut and mewled in primal helplessness as she was enclosed fully into the mouth, surrounded by darkness and rolling slime.

Yet however horrible the the situation, far worse was yet to come, as the hydra tipped back, until Vlounha's bare, silky legs slipped down and wedged into the throat's hungry entrance. She was given barely time to take a panting, dread-filled gasp before it swallowed, clamping down and sucking her fully into the squeezing, undulating tightness of the throat.

“Mmmph!!”

Her naked body wrapped head-to-toe slick, rippling tissue, her delicate face squashed against the esophageal wall as she sank deeper by the second, Vlounha could barely think through the dreadful waves of desperation and helplessness. Her full breasts were compressed uncomfortably by the tight embrace of the throat, while her muffled moans and fitful wriggles did nothing to slow her deathly decent.

No matter how she dreaded it, the next phase of her cruel fate arrived just the same. Her feet and legs sliding past the final segment of tightness between the throat and stomach . . . and into contact with bare, writhing female bodies.

Vlounha arched and strained, mewling in frantic horror, but the throat clamped down and forced her in, deeper and deeper with each dizzying, overwhelming moment. More and more of her bare skin squished and squeezed into horribly intimate contact with the other girls already inside. Inch-by-inch she was enveloped fully into the nightmarish tangle of supple, shifting limbs, smooth bodies and gasping, pleading voices.

Arching, writhing and mewling in primal desperation, Vlounha soon found herself settled firmly into the slimy, squirming midst of her peers. A girl in front was squashed face-first into Vlounha's generous bosom, lips moving in muffled protests, inadvertently stimulating Vlounha's helpless nipple with each mewl or whimper. Slender fingers clutched and groped blind and aimless, fondling and caressing her bare body in a cascade of unwanted sensual stimulation. The press of slimy, nubile bodies squeezed in tighter by the moment, full breasts gliding against Vlounha's back . . . a pair of silky legs wrapping helplessly around her waist. Someone's round, wiggling bottom against the small of her back . . . soft lips moving upon her inner thigh.

The ceaseless, madding swell of conflicting sensations went on and on without a sliver of respite. The stomach clenched and relaxed rhythmically, causing hot, thick slime to gush and roll, coating and saturating every inch of supple feminine flesh. It seemed like an endless string of cruel eternities crawled by as the elven women endured the stomach's merciless embrace. For hour after hour the exhausting, unbearable ordeal crawled slowly by, and all the while, the sweltering heat seemed to grow slowly, gradually more and more oppressive.

Fatigued to her core by the unending nightmare, Vlounha's helpless desperation was so all-consuming she almost didn't notice the first, subtle sensations of digestion creeping in. Foreboding tingles setting first upon the delicate flesh between her legs, and upon her nipples.

As the hints of impending doom settled in across her luscious flesh, Vlounha's overwhelming desperation spiked to new heights, driving her to writhe and squirm with a redoubled fervor. Her panting, moaning cries lost in the babble of feminine voices.

All those elf-girls squeezed and squashed in around her soon picked up on the worsening situation, their hysterical struggles and mewling cries reaching a fever-pitch as hot, digestive slime continued to sizzle and work upon their delicate, nubile bodies without remorse.

Yet even as their ordeal grew more and more intense, still the stomach churned and kneaded away, as patient as it was merciless. There was no conceivable escape or rescue, only the promise of many more long hours slowly digesting, before the hydra's stomach was fully finished with them. All Vlounha's skills and accomplishments, her aspirations and potential . . . all reduced to nothing but base nourishment for the hydra's pleasure. Every iota of her being utterly conquered and subsumed, consigned to fuel the beast as it continued to hunt, feast and digest in turn.

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In the hours following the hydra's arrival in Sweetpetal, the achingly beautiful elven residents were hunted and devoured without mercy. Many were plunked from peaceful slumber in their own beds, transitioned from pleasant dreams into nightmarish reality, half-asleep and uncomprehending as they were gulped down and delivered into tightly-packed, sweltering stomachs.

Those lucky enough to avoid being eaten in their own beds fared little better in the end. Following the High-Priestess's announcement warning of the predatory incursion, many fled to the sanctuary of the central temple . . . only to discover a den of hungry hydras awaiting them, their cries of disbelief muffled one-after-another by merciless swallows.

A few maidens tried to escape the village altogether, but they too were soon rounded up by several roving hydras, all hope of salvation quashed as they were introduced to hungry maws and slimy, churning stomachs.

Once the village was still and quiet, each and every hydra's stomach comfortably packed with smooth, warm, squirming elf-girls, the triumphant predators settled down in perfect comfort and satisfaction to digest.

Yet the hydra-stomachs were the furthest thing from fast-working. As though their instincts were crafted by some sinister hand instead of natural selection, the hydras would gulp mouthfuls of fresh air every few hours, with no understanding of why. Thus keeping their beautiful, languishing prey alive and squirming all through the night, subjected to hour after hour of slimy heat, relentless squeezing and claustrophobic helplessness.

Even when the morning sun began to rise, the hapless residents of Sweetpetal were still languishing in the throes of their slimy, nightmarish fate. Instinctively drawn to the growing warmth, the hydras slithered from the empty temple, swimming through the underwater caves, back the the surface where they might bask in the hot sunlight.

The morning sun radiating warmth upon the lazing hydras soon stimulated their languid digestive systems, and the slimy, sweltering conditions in their bellies grew gradually more and more inhospitable. Elf maidens writhed and moaned in primal despair as digestive tingles sizzled across delicate flesh. Every sensitive inch of their beautiful, defenseless bodies was slathered in hot, gushing digestive slime, every moment of breathless helplessness a thousand eternities of perfect, unequivocal hell.

All the while, the hydras luxuriated in blissful satisfaction, never feeling a hint of sympathy or even comprehension for the experience of the elven girls helplessly digesting alive. Not a sliver of respite was afforded to the wriggling, mewling maidens as their perfect, luscious flesh was ravaged by the exquisitely slow, gradual digestive process for hour after unbearable hour.

Meanwhile, in the neighboring village of Silkveil, the beautiful residents woke and went about their day without a worry, oblivious to the unimaginable horror being administered upon the doomed maidens of Sweetpetal at that very moment. They enjoyed their idle pleasures and daily routines, never suspecting their neighbors spent those same hours writhing in slimy torment, slowly digesting away.

But given the chance, the hydras would follow their primal instincts, and happily show the girls of Silkveil exactly what they'd missed . . . in exhaustive, excruciating detail . . . but not before every last trace of the Sweetpetal girls had been utterly digested and subsumed over the next several days.