She continues

Sometimes Mary would go fast, a blur of motion that turned the room into a swirl of darkness and light. Other times she would go slow, pulling almost all the way out before pushing back in, letting Sara feel every inch, every vein, every ridge of her impossible cock.

And the cum. It came in waves, floods, tsunamis. There was no end to it. Sara's stomach would swell to an impossible size, a tight, bloated sphere of ectoplasmic cum. She would feel like she was going to burst, that her very skin would tear from the pressure. And then, just as she felt she couldn't take any more, she would feel that strange absorption process kick in, the cool sensation spreading through her as her body converted the ghostly seed into who-knows-what, her stomach deflating back to its normal, toned state. Only for it to start all over again.

Throughout it all, Sara was conscious. Wide awake. Mary's enchantment saw to that. She felt everything. The deep, powerful thrusts, the stretch of her lips, the slaps of the balls, the bloating, the absorption. It was a maelstrom of sensation, a storm of pleasure and pain and humiliation.

She was an object, a vessel, a cumdump. Mary's words echoed in her mind. *Forever.*

"You're so good at this now," Mary's voice would coo, cutting through the haze. "Look at you. Taking it all like a pro. Such a good girl." The praise, twisted and demeaning as it was, would sometimes send a fresh wave of unwanted heat through Sara's core. Her body, a traitor, would sometimes arch into the thrusts, a silent plea for more.

Sara lost track of time. Hours blurred into days, or maybe it was just one long, endless fuck session in this basement dimension. The only constants were the darkness, Mary's ghostly blue light, and the relentless, pounding invasion of her throat. One moment, she was floating, impaled, in the center of Mary's abyssal dimension. The next, she'd be slammed against a wall, Mary's spectral hips pinning her as she pistoned into her mouth with inhuman ****. Her own body was just a prop in Mary's one-woman show.

Then, a new sensation. Not just the familiar stretch and fullness, but a new kind of pressure. Mary's swells had reached the main, no just the ghost's spectral balls grew even larger, to an absurd, watermelon-like size.

They looked absurdly pendulous, swollen with what felt like the collective essence of a thousand orgasms.

"I've... I've been saving up for you," Mary panted, her blue aura flickering violently. She was still embedded deep in Sara's throat, her hips pressed tight against Sara's face. Her form seemed less solid, more... agitated. "Get ready. For the real finale. My virgin business is almost... finished... but I'm not done... with you..." Sara's heart hammered against her ribs. Saving up? How? She's been unloading non-stop! Real Finale? Thoughts clouded her mind, yet pleasure was still the main focus of her brain.. or what's left of it.

Mary slowly, almost reverently, pulled her humongous cock from Sara's mouth. It came out with a wet, obscene *pop*, and strings of translucent, minty fluid connected it to Sara's swollen, glistening lips. For the first time in what felt like an eternity, Sara's mouth was empty. She gasped, a reflex she no longer needed but still felt, a ****, wheezing sound.

"Do you know how much I have in here now?" Mary asked, patting one of her colossal, spectral balls. It jiggled with a liquid weight that made Sara's stomach clench in anticipation. "So much. More than ever before. It needs a... final push." She grinned, and it was the most terrifying thing and lewd thing Sara had ever seen.