If there's one thing I enjoy more than consuming my prey, it's playing with them before I eat them. I greatly enjoy hearing them complain about my stench, but I am also quite intrigued by their body movements when they are unable to breathe. Whether I plop my breasts over their face, sit on them, or stuff them in one of my bags, the combination of muffled whimpers, squeals, and squeaks never cease to make me giggle.

This time, I thought I'd try something new. Of course, collecting my hapless prey was nothing out of the ordinary: wait for them to venture down the dark alley, then pounce! On this particular evening, I found a pretty little thing who looked a touch lost, so I invited her to spend some time in one of my smelly sacks. She wasn't thrilled...go figure, but most really aren't. I could have left her in the bag to squirm and struggle until her air ran out, but I was craving a new game. Once she was nestled inside my stretchy, reeking bag, I pulled all the air out of it, causing the lining to cling to her entire form.

It didn't take long for panic to set in, and soon the squeaks, pops, whimpers and muffled cries began. Her slender body thrashed and convulsed in the breathless bag, getting me all excited. I just couldn't help but reach down and give myself a little...extra stimulation. Slip a few fingers in between my legs, rub on my breast a bit, and I was ready to burst before she completely stopped squirming. Working myself to orgasm always makes me hungry, so it was a good thing I had a tasty, sealed morsel all ready to go. Supper time...

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