The Bed that swallowed Grandma...

The camera pans across a moonlit bedroom, the only sound the soft ticking of an alarm clock. A large four-poster bed dominates the room, its bed frame ornately carved in dark wood.

Laying sprawled across the plush mattress is a voluptuous grandma, her curvy figure barely contained by a thin, translucent nightgown that clings to her ample bosom and wide hips. The silky fabric drapes sinuously over her thick thighs and rolls of belly, emphasizing her generous assets.

She tosses and turns as she drifts off to sleep, one fist clenching the hem of the gown as if trying to preserve her modesty, though the gauzy material leaves little to the imagination in the pale light. Soon her breathing evens out into the gentle rhythm of slumber.

Minutes tick by. The grandma remains still, lost in dreams. Then, almost imperceptibly, the bed begins to sag beneath her weight. The plush surface starts to undulate, like mud or soft sand.

The mattress slowly swallows her lower half, the nightgown rising up to reveal flashes of pale flesh as she sinks in. Her heavy breasts, unrestrained, sway as more of her body is engulfed inch by inch. The bed swells around her like a quicksand trap.

Still she doesn't stir, oblivious, even as she's submerged to her waist. Only the gentle rise and fall of her chest betrays that she lives. Then, with a muffled sigh, she slips lower. Her cleavage dwindles as the glutinous bed consumes her bosom.

The nightgown clings, a gossamer veil, as her shoulders slip beneath the surface and she's swallowed up to her chin. For a moment her face is cradled atop the oozing mattress, head lolling. Then she slips under fully and the bed settles, smooth and undisturbed, hiding all evidence of the curvy granny's presence in its clutches, leaving just a few wrinkled folds of fabric behind.