beautiful maddy

It would have been a shame to waste the cosy blood high that George gave you. At the time you lived nearby, so you simply went home, curled up with a glass of wine and a book, and listened to him gurgle serenely as your stomach combed through his remains. Occasionally you swallowed air for the guilty pleasure of eliciting a burp. Whatever was happening in the cauldron of your stomach caused his flavour to sweeten over time.

Mysterious.

But eventually you knew the night shift would end. You intended to keep your promise to see the cashier. So, with regret, you lay down your book and set back out into the night.

She looked up from her phone as you came in.

“Hey, you’re back. I had to put your coke and stuff away.”

For her you can maintain a fake smile, no problem. She wears too much concealer, probably to cover night-shift bags, but otherwise is a pretty dirty-blonde girl with freckles and a tooth gap. The uniform blue sweatshirt suited her far better than the grass green shirt.

“Sorry.”

“No worries. Did you catch up to him?”

“Hmm?” You walked to the cigarette counter she presided over and pretended to scan the bottles.

“Yeah, you know. The… guy in the hat. C’mon, it was pretty clear you were going after him. Do you know him?”

“A little.” A soft breath of sweet air burst against your first, revealing that in some ways you were in fact quite intimately acquainted. “I didn’t like what you said about him.”

She blushed furiously and looked down. “Oh. Didn’t realise he was your friend. Sorry. He’s just a bit… Sorry.”

You let her twist a little while.

“Forget about it. Can I have that bourbon?”

Grateful to have a reason to turn away, she followed your pointing finger and seized the bottle. “Anything else?”

“Not for the minute. Can I shop for other stuff first, before paying?”

“Sure.” She handed you the bottle across the counter, smiling with equal parts uncertainty and guilt.

You flashed her a smile and popped it in your basket. Then you dawdled among the aisles, pretending to select groceries. Waiting.

You didn’t have to wait long. A staff door near the checkouts slammed open and a bright voice, obnoxiously loud for six in the morning, cried out, “Maddie! Reinforcements are here. Get your arse off. You look like a cigarette someone has put out in a puddle.”

“Fuck you. Brian,” she retorted with fondness, then remembered someone was in the store and lowered her voice for the rest of her morning greeting. You overheard snippets. At one point she murmured, “Jumbo came again tonight. Got a groupie, as well!” She snickered while her colleague pressed for details. You face darkened. You glared at a box of Frosties.

It wasn’t long before the staff door opened and closed again. You kept an eye on Brian enough to see when he was restocking the tobacco, then slipped through the staff door into a stubby corridor.

A second colleague stepped out of the staff room where Maddie was currently changing her sweatshirt. You’d heard him coming, though, and watched him walk by from the doorway of a darkened admin room. Once he had entered the shop front you looked around. Two desks bordered an open area, and the room would be private if you turned the blinds and closed the door. Perfect.

Maddie was leaving.

You closed the door and cleared your throat. It was enough to get her attention. “Brian? You’re not supposed to be in there, remember? Magical Trevor said he’d put you on disciplinary after you changed all the wallpapers to pictures of his bald spot.”

She wasn’t coming closer. You idly thumped a desk with your fist.

“Brian? Mike?”

She approached the door. You watched her shadow move over the closed blinds. And when the door opened you were there. One dark tendril wrapped snugly around her throat and silenced the scream you could feel her trying to articulate: the other gently closed the door while you pulled her into the centre of the room with your hands.

A sudden jerk forwards and down was enough to get her to drop to her knees in front of you. She kept trying to scream: impossible with the tendril compressing her trachea in just the right way.

You slipped off your loose black dress and she froze of her own accord. The belly that previously had been flat and smooth was now revealed to be orblike and smooth. She couldn’t miss it: your navel was at her eye level.

“Scream and I break your neck,” you said. She nodded once or twice, still unaware that this would have been mercy. So you slackened the tendril around her throat.

“I’m sorry I’m sorry don’t hurt me I just—”

“You asked if he was contagious.”

“Who? Jumbo! No he’s just a guy who he has this condition or something and he’s really creepy—”

“He was a human being and you wouldn’t even touch his hand when he paid.” She cringes away from you when your eyes flash with anger. “And in the end he asked for you to be spared. You don’t deserve to be spared.”

No words came out of her open mouth. A glimmer of hope lit her eyes. She would accept his protection and it disgusted you to see.

So you rubbed your belly. Despite your addiction to your own burps there was enough air trapped inside that you sloshed audibly. Through the vampiric appendage you felt her shiver.

“… ‘was’ a human being? …”

Truth be told you got a little high off the feeling of power. Here she was, terrified of this pale, beautiful, naked witch and all you could do was grope at your own gurgling gut. You let her stew while George’s thickening sacrifice glided like thin caramel within your internal walls.

“I don’t often spare prey. Especially when they deserve it. But he asked me to. Before I drank him dry.”

The sloshing of your stomach held a terrible gravity for her. “Drank… dry?”

You ignored her. “Do you think I am beautiful, Maddie?”

She hesitated, then nodded with fervent affirmation.

“But not George?”

She opened her mouth to ask who George was, but figured it out. Uncertain of what answer would placate you, she gave none; only stared.

“No, I’m sure you didn’t. But he was beautiful inside. Thoughtful. Noble, as much as he could be. I can feel his loneliness dissolving even now. You could have alleviated it with a kind word or two.

“I almost spared you. Gave you a quick end. But… you still called him names. Still!”

You were surprised how angry you were with her. It took an effort to release the pressure around her throat enough that she could breathe again.

“So I’m going to do to you what I decided to do when you asked if he was contagious. You’re going up my bum.”

Your half-spin showed off your supermodel figure. Though thin you were very well-nourished. Your backside filled the majority of her field of vision, perfect creamy acres of flesh in biologically perfect curves. But in the cleft, a portal to a far less beautiful domain.

“Welcome to the ugliness you inhabit, Maddie. Goodbye.”

Like taking a shit in reverse. That’s what it felt like, sitting yourself down over her head. She had time to whimper and attempt a silent scream and take a deep breath as your pucker crept down over her cheeks. But then the tight circle of muscle sealed her airways inside your rectum. No breath she ever took again would be clean, and no word ever heard.

She scrabbled at your cheeks until twin tendrils seized her arms and yanked them behind her. This left your hands free. Important, because… well. The membranes between anus and vagina are thin. The introduction of her screaming face against your internal walls, coupled with the intense sensation of fullness in your back passage, brought on a wave of arousal powerful enough to buckle your knees. As you sat down and wriggled her shoulders into your shitter you also ground your fingers against your clit with obscene abandon.

It wasn’t enough. God or whoever gave you two hands so you began to stroke dextrous fingers into your pussy alongside the other sources of pleasure. The feeling of tightness inside as her shoulder pressed and flattened your vaginal canal brought home how completely packed you were going to be. How stretched you were.

You pictured her slicking through her foul prison. Yesterday’s chow mein spattered and joined up the dots of her freckles. She sank deeper into a private world of darkness and filth so complete that she even stopped screaming, preferring to go to her death in silence rather than let your waste in.

Once her shoulders popped inside and you sank her in to her belly button, only biting your lip kept you from calling out. You sat up and thrust down, sliding her in and out, simultaneously grinding her to death in your colon and fucking yourself with her struggling body.

You whited out when you came. Powerful muscle contractions all along your bowels caused warning cracks and clicks. When you came back to awareness you were panting on all fours, fingers still buried in your cunt, raised arse elegantly sipping up the poor woman’s calves. A glorious anticlockwise slide filled your whole abdomen as her broken body was pulled deeper and deeper into an unclean grave.

The gap between her ankles gave voice to a fluting, lengthy fart: the erstwhile contents of her lungs. Then her feet slipped inside and were smothered by tightly clamped muscle. Your anus sealed her within as perfectly as if it had never opened. Only your leaked sex juices showed anything unusual had happened.

Your belly was a different matter. Like a monstrous pregnancy she hung, massive and heavy, down to the ground. You cradled her inside you, savoring the sweet agony of being stretched from tummy to arsehole. You were huge with her.

Another, lazy orgasm left you shaking and sated on the ground. You craved nothing more than sleep and to work down your unwilling lover. But soon someone would be here. With bitter resentment at the unfairness of the world for providing you no chauffeur you hauled yourself to your feet, crammed yourself into your dress, and wobbled your way out the back entrance. Seemed appropriate.

At home, ever greedy, you slipped yourself around a buttplug that would help keep Maddie and her eventually-digested remains in place until you were ready to let them go. And then you crawled into bed and sleep, lulled by patient, thorough exploration of every expanded inch of your stuffed belly.

As you slept, your two prey came together: joined and mingled. The ugly and the beautiful, the pure and the corrupt: All are the same to your digestive tract. You melt us down, take from us everything we can give, and leave us as homogenous waste. Perhaps that’s the true dichotomy: Food Raven has eaten, and food Raven has yet to consume.