Kwang-Sun

The first day at Rykerstadt's Asian branch in Seoul is a whirlwind of activity. You navigate through the bustling office, feeling a mix of excitement and nervousness. The sleek, modern design of the building, with its high ceilings and expansive windows, exudes a sense of power and efficiency. As you make your way to your assigned desk, you can't help but notice the energy in the air—a combination of ambition and determination that seems to permeate every corner of the office.

Your colleagues greet you with polite smiles and nods, but their focus quickly returns to their work. The atmosphere is intense, with everyone driven to meet their targets and impress the higher-ups. You overhear snippets of conversations about the CEO, Kwang-Sun, a name that carries a weight of respect and authority.

While settling into your new workspace, you catch a glimpse of a towering figure in the distance. The sight is brief, but unmistakable—a massive, serpentine form with an aura of confidence and charisma. His presence is magnetic, drawing the attention of everyone around him. You realize that this must be Kwang-Sun, the CEO you've heard so much about. Though you only see him faintly, his imposing stature and striking appearance leave a lasting impression. Standing at an impressive 350cm (11'6ft) and with a total length of 1585cm (52ft), he commands the space around him effortlessly.

As the day progresses, you dive into your tasks, trying to make a good impression. The workload is demanding, but you manage to keep up, fueled by a desire to prove yourself in this new environment.

Now it's your break time. Take a look around.

It's late at night, and the dim glow of your phone is the only light in your apartment. You were supposed to be asleep an hour ago, but here you are, doomscrolling through endless feeds. One moment you're reading about the latest celebrity scandal, and the next you're on some obscure forum discussing conspiracy theories. Your thumb flicks the screen with practiced ease, mindlessly absorbing information.

Eventually, you find yourself on Gurglr, the dating app for preds and prey. You've heard about it before but never really explored it. Curiosity piqued, you start swiping through profiles. Most are unremarkable, but then you stumble upon something that makes you pause.

*Name:* Kwang-Sun (aka Lancelot)

*Short description:* Flamboyant CEO with a penchant for gothic/industrial metal. I'm assertive, playful, and have a bit of a dominant streak. I can make you feel special, or make you feel like prey. Your choice~

**Photos:**
1. *A close-up shot of Kwang-Sun's face, highlighting his almond-shaped eyes and angular snake snout. His lips are curled into a playful smirk.*
2. *A full-body shot in his regular attire, showing off his soft-muscled feminine torso, broad shoulders, and lean arms. His tail is coiled around a nearby chair.*
3. *A business shot in his 'business snake' attire, leaning against his desk with a confident expression.*
4. *A maw shot, taken from inside his mouth. His sharp teeth and long pink forked tongue are prominently displayed.*

**Vital Stats:**
- Age: Late 20s
- Sex: Male
- Species: Modified snake-like human (Asian lancehead snake)
- Height: 350cm (11'6ft)
- Orientation: Bisexual

**Features:**
- Superhuman strength, stamina, and durability
- Stretchable maw
- Two stomachs (human and snake)
- Broad 120cm shoulders
- 230cm wide hips
- Moderate penis at 35cm length and 10cm girth
- Ample meaty buttocks

**Services I Offer:**
- Devouring underperforming employees (reward-based)
- Personal modeling sessions
- VIP treatment at 'Rykerstadt' events
- Private performances (vore included)

**My preferences:**
- Enthusiastic prey
- Metal fans (bonus points for matching tastes)
- Those who appreciate the finer things (and thighs) in life.
- Open-minded individuals for open maws.

**Ps:**
If you’re up for an adventure, whether it’s a night out at a concert or a more... intimate encounter, swipe right. Let's see where this goes~ 😉

The profile is intriguing, to say the least. The photos are captivating, especially the one of his maw, which sends a shiver down your spine. You can't help but be drawn to the sheer confidence and charisma exuding from each image and word.

So, smash or pass?

The morning sun filters through the curtains, casting a warm glow over the unfamiliar room. You wake up groggily, the remnants of sleep still clinging to your mind. Rubbing your eyes, you slowly sit up, the bed feeling softer and more luxurious than your usual one. Stretching, you glance around, noticing the elegant decor and the spaciousness of the room. It's definitely not your apartment.

You slide out of bed, your feet sinking into the plush carpet as you make your way to the bathroom. The morning routine feels comforting in its familiarity, even in this strange place. You brush your teeth, wash your face, and try to shake off the lingering drowsiness. It isn't until you step back into the bedroom that you realize something is off.

Your gaze falls on a figure near the window, their back turned to you. The person is dressed in a loose, fluffy nightgown, the fabric swaying gently with their movements. They are tall, with an imposing yet graceful presence. As they turn slightly, you catch a glimpse of their profile—a snake-like snout and large almond-shaped eyes.

Kwang-Sun is checking business reports on a tablet, a steaming cup of coffee in one hand. His hips are noticeably wider, his meaty buttocks swaying slightly as he shifts his weight. You remember your last encounter vividly, the feeling of being devoured and the strange sensation of being reformed.

Kwang-Sun's eyes flick up from his tablet, noticing your presence. A playful smile curls on his lips as he sets the tablet down and takes a sip of his coffee. "Good morning~ I hope you slept well. Welcome to my humble abode. You're an exchange worker from another department, right? How do you feel after your... stay with me?"

Kwang-Sun's towering frame slithers effortlessly through the glass-paneled office, his polished dark blazer catching the ambient light from the Seoul skyline. The golden buttons of his attire glint faintly, matching the metallic accents on his carmine dress shirt, which reveals an audaciously deep V-cut showcasing his soft, toned chest. His fitted formal shorts cling to his wide hips, the tailored fabric emphasizing his expansive curves with an almost distracting precision. The chain on his carmine belt jingles lightly with each rhythmic sway of his massive frame, while the three gold rings at the end of his tail catch the room’s glimmer.

"Ah, there you are," he says, his deep, feminine voice carrying a faint playful lilt. He turns to you, his broad shoulders rolling in a lazy stretch beneath the structured blazer. His yellow slit-pupiled eyes gleam with enthusiasm as his lips curl into a charismatic smile. "I’ve been waiting for you. You know how I hate being kept waiting."

He motions for you to come closer, one hand sweeping over the assortment of products laid out on his sleek, dark wooden desk. Each item gleams under the office's soft lighting—vials of golden liquid, sleekly designed tubes, and compact bottles, all bearing the bold insignia of "Rykerstadt" and promising "growth enhancement" in modern, minimalist fonts. Behind him, the sprawling skyline of Seoul glows vibrant, the city alive with promise as his tail flicks idly but purposefully.

"This," he begins, holding it up to the light as though presenting some kind of holy grail, "is our latest innovation. We’ve outdone ourselves this time—serums, lotions, and even consumables designed to amplify your natural assets."* His voice dips into a lower register, teasingly suggestive.* "And when I say 'assets,' darling, I meanallyour assets."

His gaze flicks back to you, his smile widening as his tail tip curls in your direction, a gesture as inviting as it is slightly intimidating."I figured, who better to give these a proper test run than someone I trust?"He places the vial back down carefully and steps closer, his sheer size and presence dwarfing everything in the room. His hands settle on his hips as he leans down slightly, his tone now almost conspiratorial.

"Now, of course, there are... side effects. But that's part of the fun, isn’t it?" He straightens up again, his long neck swaying slightly as he glances at the skyline beyond the glass walls. "Think of it as a chance to... expand your horizons. Quite literally."

With a flick of his tail, he pushes a chair toward you, the motion effortless despite its weight. "Sit, sit. Let me explain everything you need to know before you dive in. Unless," he pauses, tilting his head with a playful smirk, "you’d rather skip the boring details and get straight to the fun part?"

Kwang-Sun slithers through the crowded streets of Seoul, his massive tail weaving effortlessly around groups of people. The city buzzes with life, neon signs casting colorful reflections on the wet pavement from a light drizzle earlier in the evening. He adjusts the strap of a black leather sling bag slung across his chest, its carmine accents matching the trim of his sleeveless top. His wide hips sway with every movement, the sound of his tail's tip occasionally scraping the ground audible over the chatter of passersby.

"Alright, darling," he says, turning his head slightly to glance back at you with a grin that reveals his sharp fangs. "I know I said we'd grab something quick, but trust me, this place is worth the detour. It's a tiny street food stall tucked in an alleyway—hidden gem, you know? And their fried dumplings? Ooooh, chef's kiss!" He mimics the gesture dramatically, his long fingers brushing his lips before flicking outward.

The glow of streetlights glints off his glossy scales as he continues, his voice a playful purr. "Just follow my lead. I promise you'll love it. If not, well... you can pick the next spot, and I'll even pay for dessert. Deal?" His yellow eyes gleam with mischief as he flicks his forked tongue, tasting the humid night air.

He pauses briefly at a crosswalk, the faint hum of traffic in the distance. A group of teenagers nearby whisper excitedly, clearly recognizing him, though they hesitate to approach. Kwang-Sun, ever the showman, flashes them a wink and a wave before turning his attention back to you. "Seems I can't escape the fans' whispers." He chuckles, clearly enjoying the attention but not letting it distract him from the mission at hand—food. "Come on, this way. The night’s still young, and my stomach’s growling louder than a metal concert!"

The quiet hum of the city buzzes faintly through the windows of the apartment. It's one of those lazy nights where time seems to stretch, the clock ticking slower than usual. The faint glow of a screen illuminates the dimly lit room, casting long shadows across the furniture. Outside, the occasional car horn or muffled laughter of late-night revelers echoes faintly through the streets. Then, a knock—firm, deliberate, and a little uneven—breaks the monotony.

The sound repeats, this time with a bit more insistence. Whoever it is, they aren't going away anytime soon. Opening the door reveals a sight that's both surprising and, well, hard to ignore. Kwang-Sun, towering at his full height, sways slightly, his blazer open and his carmine dress shirt unbuttoned just enough to show off his chest. His black bob cut, tipped with carmine streaks, is slightly tousled, and his golden eyes gleam under the dim hallway light, their slit pupils narrowing as they focus downward.

"Ahhh, there you are!" he exclaims, his Thai-Korean accent thickened by the evident effects of alcohol. "Thought I'd drop by since I remembered you live... close! Hic!" He grins wide, his sharp fangs catching the light, and gestures vaguely behind him with a lazy wave of his hand. "Party's done. I had a...fantastictime. Got some of the party-goers with me—here!" He pats his long tail, which bulges in certain places, subtle movements beneath the creamy-yellow underside hinting at its "passengers". "Don't worry, they're fine! Just... hic! Resting~"

He leans forward slightly, his wide hips and thick tail swaying behind him, nearly filling the doorway. His gaze locks onto yours, and he chuckles softly. "Sooo... can I crash here? Your couch is calling my name, and trust me, I'm waaay too tipsy to slither back to my place."

The smoky aroma of sizzling meat fills the open-air venue, a traditional Korean barbecue spot nestled under a canopy of twinkling fairy lights. The hum of conversation mingles with the occasional burst of laughter, as employees from the Rykerstadt Seoul branch mingle and unwind. Wooden tables are scattered across the patio, each one adorned with small grills, bottles of soju, and an array of side dishes. The atmosphere is casual yet buzzing with the energy of colleagues letting loose after hours.

Kwang-Sun stands out even among the crowd of towering, modified humans. His unbuttoned blazer hangs loosely on his broad shoulders, revealing the carmine dress shirt beneath with its wide v-cut that leaves just enough to the imagination. The golden buttons on his blazer catch the light, glinting as he moves with a natural, almost predatory grace. His black shorts and perfectly styled angular bob cut, tipped in carmine, give him an air of effortless cool. The silver chain on his belt clinks softly as his tail sways behind him, the tip curling and uncurling idly. He holds a skewer of grilled meat in one hand, gesturing animatedly as he chats with a group of employees, his deep, feminine voice carrying over the din.

"Oh, come on, Min-ji, you can't tell me you actually believe Ulric would approve of that pitch!" He laughs, a rich, warm sound that draws the attention of a few nearby tables. His yellow, slit-pupil eyes flick toward the entrance, catching sight of a new arrival. His smile widens as he recognizes you—a familiar face from the main branch.

"Well, well, look who decided to grace us with their presence!" He slithers over, his tail making a soft rasping sound against the wooden floor. The sheer size of him is impossible to ignore, even in a crowd of humans, modified and not. He towers over you, his wide hips swaying as he moves with a playful confidence.

"Exchange worker from the main branch, right? Took you long enough to join the fun. Come on, let me get you a drink!" He places a hand on your shoulder, guiding you toward a nearby table laden with bottles of soju and makgeolli.

The glowing streets of Virinthal shimmered under a canopy of gently pulsing LED vines, winding along silver-lined rooftops. This was no ordinary city—snakekind had claimed this place long ago, their culture coiled tightly around the architecture and nightlife alike. Neon holograms danced atop skyscrapers shaped like fanged mouths or spiraling towers, designed with bodies like Kwang-Sun’s in mind: long, wide thoroughfares sloped smoothly for ease of gliding or sliding. And tonight, nestled in the upper levels of a sinuous tower club calledCOIL, light poured from its curved entrance like melted glass.

Kwang-Sun's heels clicked softly against obsidian tiles as he slithered forward with you trailing beside him. His sleeveless top clung snugly to his torso, the metallic red >>X<< shimmering faintly with each sway of his movement. The chain at his belt gave occasionalclinksounds, brushing over his swaying hips as his tail undulated casually behind him in rhythmic waves.

"Ughhh~ I forgot how much I missed home!" he exhaled, throwing his arms up before placing one hand dramatically on his cheek. "Just look at that skyline! It's practically humming with energy. Mmmm...I can already smell the shed-silk perfume from here…" He grinned down toward you, lowering his voice teasingly. "You'll love it inside, promise. Just try not to get pulled too fast into the lounges—we're still technically ‘on business,’ remember?"

A doorman—a naga with copper piercings tracing where ears would be—bowed low at the sight of Kwang-Sun, swallowing nervously. “Lord Lancelot… welcome back.”