breath of life

Whimpering from under your ribs, muffled by a shelf of fat and your awesome boobs. She is losing herself to you slowly and surely. Even the jostle as your back hits the rug causes digestive juices to slosh over her body and thickly peel away softened keratin.

The first stage of digestion is all about opening up to you.

We have limited time. You giggle and try to sit up, a futile gesture as her weight keeps you pinned. Her scream bubbles up your throat as a modulation to your laugh: ~hehehoOOAaAArRPP~ “Piggy fall down.”

Adrenaline and oxytocin tear through my system from proximity to a death I’ve long craved and long forestalled. I laugh along with you. “Not just a piggy, sweetheart, but a greedy sow. I swear your tits are bigger already. She’s still breathing: you can’t have metabolised her yet.”

You test them out, biting your bottom lip as your fingers sink into soft, sensitive flesh. My parallel exploration of your tummy reveals something that makes me frown. Inez is asphyxiating in a caustic mess of meat and blood. That can’t be.

“She’s drowning in your feast. Swallow air for me, Rey.”

You clamp your lips together. “Mh-mph.” You’re wilful and impulsive with wine. Then your eyes close and your mouth opens as frantic hands inside you flutter behind your breastbone. “Mine…”

“Yours. No one’s taking her away.” Her movements become spasmodic; she’s dying. “Let her wriggle for you a little longer.”

Her sudden stillness inside you fills you with a hollow ache. You beckon me closer with a hooked finger. “Breath of life.” I press my lips against yours and exhale. Moments pass, and then: movement inside you! Life rekindles, to be lost again. The feeling of squirming prey makes you arch your back and rock your hips. “More.”

More food, more drink, more sex? I don’t know that even you know which you mean. All, probably. I’m only one man, and when you’re writhing like that, there’s only one I want to choose.

My kiss on your belly and the kiss of the massage wand on your womanhood coincide perfectly. Silent vibration lights up every nerve as I tease apart your lips and rock the head rhythmically up and down your pussy.

I speak, roughly in time with the rocking. “Ate her food. Hundreds, her father paid. All to stuff your greedy belly. Not satisfied, though, were you? Trap her. Seduce her. Stuff her down into your fat greedy stomach with all that food.”

“Mine,” you gasp, chasing Inez’s seeking hands where they fight beneath your flesh.

“Take his money and his daughter. Melting inside you while you get wanked off. Pred-slut. Beautiful, greedy pig. Never enough. Never—”

“Fingers in me,” you demand, and I comply instantly, stretching your slick pussy with as many it will take while the wand brings you closer and closer to the edge. As you approach it, internal muscles tense. Your prey’s waning strength is defeated, overcome by stomach contractions and squeezing abs. You still feel her fighting but every sign is utterly contained by your body.

“—Never done, till you’re bloated and burping and farting with the effort of digestion. Till you shit them out and all they’ve become is extra cup sizes and rolls and rolls of fat on your gorgeous bo—”

You arch your back even against your prey’s weight and soundlessly scream as you cum. Other than the whisper of the wand with which I torment your cunt and the panting of your breath, the only sound is Inez’s despairing scream from inside you and an uneven sequence of messy, wet snaps and crunches. Your stomach is a trash compactor and Inez is being crushed half to death.

A hearty belch brings the taste of metal, blood and bone marrow across your tongue. God knows what shape she’s in now. When you dig your hands clawlike into your middle you have to dig to find the shape of the human amongst the ruins of flesh.

“Is she…?”

“Not yet. But soon.” Your hands glide over your smooth, round belly with the whisper of silk. “Better be gentle if you don’t want her to just come apart, pet.”

You’re scarcely recovered from the last two times, but this one is different. You’re almost tender as you cradle your stomach. Somewhere inside she is going beyond suffering, and you’re ready to end it for her. Half her flesh is liquid in your guts. Meanwhile, I trail kisses down your body and then kiss you, long and sensuous, worshipping you with my mouth as my hands roam the lower reaches of your belly.

While you cum, we hold hands over your tummy. Your stomach crushes the life out of her and squirts pints of her rich chyme into your intestines.

It’s not long before you pass out. I build a bed around you, duvet and pillows and all. You’re the biggest, roundest little spoon in the world as all three of us submit to sleep, some deeper than others.