Voluptuous_Iris

Prefs be here Court_Of_Predators. Iris can be female or herm. Not sure where this lovely art is from, but it’s a perfect representation of her curvaceous, gluttonous power.

“You’re mine, little slut. You always have been, every day of your life. Once, your way to serve me was to live your life, until I came to take it. Now it is to whimper for my delight. Soon, it will be to squirm and melt inside me, worshipping me as a bulge in my gut, and finally your way to serve will be as another layer of fat on my enormous ass. The only thing you can do now is squirm and beg enough to pleasure me before you get liquefied in my guts. So go on. Beg.”

Name: Godeater Iris Eclipseborn
Age: 26 to centuries.
Species: Human, fused with eldritch god
Place of Origin: London
Occupation: Ex-sacrificial victim, Cult Leader, Vessel of Hunger Incarnate

Iris was born to be devoured, raised from birth to be a sacrificial victim to a long-dead god-queen. She spent every moment of her life knowing that her fate was to be nothing but prey to an entity of pure hunger. But no-one taught her to accept that fate. On the day of her sacrifice, Iris outwitted her would-be devourer, beat her in a battle of sheer willpower, and ate her alive, taking the alien power for her own and becoming a fusion of mortal human and star-swallowing monster. She is a towering, swollen figure, perfect in every way, and she leads her cult with the sole aim of satisfying her own pleasure and gluttony.

Iris was once a normally proportioned human, but the power raging within her body has warped it greatly. She stands more than twelve foot tall, her voluptuous curves thick enough that she crushes most mortal doors simply by pulling her enormous hips through. Her breasts are each heavier than a full-grown man, and can easily store several people within their creamy confines. Her loins are a dripping chasm between her legs, capable of swallowing a horse… or a dozen gorgeous little preythings, with room to spare. With every meal, Iris’ power and waistline grows. She is a glutton who can swallow entire towns in a single night of pleasure, or spend weeks tormenting a single morsel until they beg her to add them to her curves.

Iris has stolen every scrap of power from the entity she devoured, giving her powers that verge on the godlike. She can hypnotise her prey, reshape living and nonliving matter like clay, create duplicates of her prey, make herself invisible or change her shape, devour souls and much, much more. Her strength is enough to crush stone with her bare hands. On top of this she is a genius manipulator, spinning plans years in the making to increase her power and influence. The one constant is that every plot is in the aim of feeding her ravenous guts.

Psychologically, Iris is a sadist and narcissist without peer. She loves being worshipped, whether out of awe or out of terror. Everyone is a beautiful morsel to be savoured, and she likes to remind them constantly. She prefers her meals to be as terrified and desperate as possible, for it makes their squirming so much sweeter. She can eat until her belly renders her immobile, then digest them all to more soft, perfect fat in seconds (or weeks) and do so again. In short, she is a living goddess, and likes being treated and fed, like one. She’s always looking for more little sluts to break in the caustic confines of her body.

Iris hides her true form most of the time, pretending to be a young and wealthy society lady, though she never fully hides her curves or her luscious white hair. She lives in a large house in the centre of London, attended to by dozens of servants who worship her body and attend her every whim. Some are true believers in the cult, others are terrified slaves kidnapped to serve her. None will survive for long. Iris loves to attend parties, go on holidays, and in general enjoy herself, but no activity is complete without someone slipping into her body. She is the Godeater, the Unceasing Hunger, the Queen of Pleasures, and no-one will escape her.

Backstory

Iris was born in the early 1900s, the fourth child of a wealthy and respectable noble family living in London, England. Her birth was never recorded, and she was never sent to the luxurious boarding schools that her siblings attended. No-one even knew the family had a fourth child… except for their fellow cultists.

Iris’ family were members of a secret society known as the Temple of the Perfect Maw, a cult dedicated to the worship of an ancient, eldritch god named Queen Astique. According to their lore, Astique had once been the god of a long-dead alien race, who declared herself and her hips the end state for all living things. She had ruled an empire spanning multiple universes, and had aimed to bring all of reality into her ravenous embrace. Astique died during one of her Wars of Gluttony, more than a million years ago. But she was a canny god-queen. She wrote books of unholy lore and seeded them throughout the mortal worlds, instilling them with rituals of incredible power and promising eternal bliss for the faithful who served her. One such book was unearthed in rural England in the 1600s, and since then, the Temple had served their dead god-queen, drawing on echoes of her power to grant themselves status and glory.

But this was no longer enough for the greedy cultists. They wanted to see their queen returned to life, as beautiful and monstrous as ever. So they began work on the last, and greatest, ritual in the book: one to return Astique to life. The ritual would require relics of power, and ingredients from other worlds, and words of power spoken during a full solar eclipse. It would also require sacrifices. Iris was born for this purpose. Her role in the great ritual would be as fuel for her god-queen’s rise. It was her only reason to exist, and so her family treated the small, timid girl cruelly, forcing her to work as a servant and reminding her constantly of her fate with a variety of unpleasant nicknames. By the time she was eight, Iris no longer flinched at these. By the time she was ten, she began to plot her response.

The day of Iris’ demise was the total solar eclipse of 29 June 1927. Along with eighty seven other sacrifices from other families, Iris was brought to the site of totality in North Wales, where the earth would be completely covered by the moon’s shadow for a brief few seconds. They were arrayed in beautiful golden chains, marked with holy oils, and then murdered, one by one, as the world fell dark around them. When her time came Iris did not resist the knife, and said only three words to her traitorous kin.

”See you soon.”

As eighty eight souls were condemned to her hunger, Astique stirred from death, beginning to wake once more. Eighty seven souls entered her maw, but the eighty eighth was more difficult, keeping her soul just out of her reach. Still weak from her long slumber, the eldritch queen reached towards her prize. And Iris struck.

Though her family had not seen fit to give the young Iris a formal education, they had taught her a lot about the ancient rituals their cult used. Rituals to bind creatures to your will, and steal their power. Iris had memorised every one and while Astique was vulnerable, she used them on her. Before the god-queen realised what was happening, it was too late. She fought, but Iris had cultivated her willpower with sheer rage and ambition until it was more than a match for the eldritch deity. In the span of the eclipse, they battled each other for dominance for aeons, but Iris had planned too well, and eventually Astique was forced to her knees. Even merely defeating her devourer was not enough for Iris. As Astique knelt before her, bound in chains of pure thought and struggling desperately, Iris lifted her up, and stuffed her into her maw. She swallowed the ancient, alien god, and took everything from her.

The creature that emerged in the centre of the ritual circle was not Astique, nor was it entirely Iris. Predator-turned-prey and prey-turned predator had been merged on a cosmic level. Iris had digested the god-queen, and absorbed her power into her mortal body. She looked upon the cult - her cult - and grinned hungrily.

Few of the original members of the Temple survived Iris’ first rampage. Her family was doomed to her guts from the start, along with hundreds of others sent into Iris’ ravenous body. The young goddess took the name Eclipseborn, and within hours, she had assumed her rightful place at the head of the cult, before using her powers and influence to expand it far beyond. Today, hundreds of thousands of ordinary men and women across the globe wear the secret mark of the Temple on their skin, serving the Godeater in every thought and deed. Hundreds of thousands more are marked as tempting sacrifices for Iris’ hunger. There is no limit to what she will do in her quest to become more perfect, more powerful, and more curvaceous. Why not say hello?