A Boned Arrangement
On the subject of Osteolysis

Written by Septia.


-Phaaawohaaawf- A mist of guttural humidity billowed from up the throat entrapping the boy's shoulders, droplets of saliva trickling down in vines of translucent viscosity from Maranda's molars, -Splths- daubing onto him as she held him on the threshold to her body. 
	“C-can't w-we talk about t-this, pl-please?” He pleaded. 
	“Aaaahooompghs,” Maranda responded with a snap of her maw after plying Rawor deeper with a shove of her tongue. -Bggnnhs- -Glpghs- Her cheeks engorged with his, “Defwhintshwfley,” she mumbled around him, and arched her head back. -Gllpmmgoshp- The gulp oscillated with her ballooning neck, the visage of the boy trawling along as a plump lump of skin warping its way downwards to fade underneath her chest. -CchrrlBGgllpgsghsha- the bloat of the boy's body siphoned to her engorging abdomen, burgeoning until the weight reached equilibrium… -Fslpfhghthss- The mass of guttural ballast jostled with a slosh of bolus marinade. 
	“There will be plenty of time allocated for discussion once my gut has proceeded to melt the flesh off your bones like the sludge you are.” The Taxonecrosist mused and let her palms roam the writhing expanse of pronounced abdominal bulk. Despite the fact there was an entire human being – who had stood in the same room with her mere movements ago – Maranda's gut sported a size closing in on two stocked grocery bags worth of capacity. The Taxonecrocist stepped up on a scale, jotting down values whilst the boy revved up turmoil through her gut. 
	“Could the gut slut be so kind as to stop thrashing for a moment?” she asked.
	The question must have taken the boy off guard, as the stomach -Gbrhglps- sagged into rest. 
	“Appreciate the cooperation.” She continued to a table, -Slpfhsthts- hefting up her gut into a separate scale, measuring the fluctuating numbers in her notes. 
	“Hmm, the relationship of Osteolysis, Carpogony and Vastosoma appear balanced in favour of the last,” she reasoned and planted the notebook on the table with a -Clsk- as it hit the table. “In other words you are going to make a truckload of dung,” she concluded with a swat of her gut -Smtchhrglgprghshs- the clasp of flesh vibrating through the sloughed abdomen and roused her occupant into further sporadic struggles, following the ripples of skin trailing along in the wake of her spank. 
	“How would you have described your flavour?” She asked after strapping on a stethoscope and pushing the plate to her belly. 
	“Why would I ever think about that? I didn't plan to be eaten today, or any day.” 
	“Shame, it would complement my notes to get a perspective from the test subject, you were quite delicious, to note, though. A touch salty, have you worked out recently?” 
	“This is not happening.” 
	Maranda plucked off the stethoscope and toted her gut off of the table, cradling the broad meat satchel to a desk with a desktop computer to transfer her notes. “Shame. If you do think of something I would implore you to hurry up; I have made preparations for this day for several moons now, and by my estimates you would last another hour, at most.” -Gbrhlglpgsh- The gut reverberated with basy growls -Shf-Flpfghthshs- the surface contacting inwards in a pulse of flexing tissue and kneaded flesh. “Oooh, make that half an hour,” she brushed her knuckles along the side of her gut, cupping the bottom and juggling it in her grasp -Clslpghths- Clpsghthhts- plying into his motions and shoving down the bulges of his handprints, feet and elbows warping the surface of her stomach… Kneading more deliberately to sculpt and contort the receding stomach lining. “I had my precautions about the effectiveness of my own guts as a surrogate carpogony vessel… I do sincerely hope you haven't been lying to me about yourself, Rawor.” You should have enough yellow marrow for the remaining of the synthesis to proceed. Because if you have,” she scoffed with a sneer, rubbing the eraser of her pen into a spinning crater on the plush belly, “then you will be a veritable pile of excrement and I would have to settle with finding a new boy-toy. I do hope you realise that I am quite fond of you, Rawor,” she said with a flick of her tongue. -Bghrlpgghhgs- -Cshrhrs- her gut actively caving in, undulating, “despite your outlook being cast in a more, tenebrous perspective.” 
	-Ghrpskgshts- -Cslpghths- A squelching rupture of a branch snapping submerged in a swamp warped within Maranda's abdomen. “Mmm, my my, here I thought you to be more of a vexing subject, but that sounds like the start of Osteolysis to me,” she said and cupped a handful of gut flab in her hand, bobbing it with a satisfaction spreading from ear to ear. “We are going to make something beautiful together.” 


~ 1 ~


-Vrrhghgslgsh- -Chfrlprshgssl- A tug and squelch of maceration played within Maranda's abdomen. Stomach deflated to roughly half a grocery's worth, leaving out the added layer of tummy blubber adorning her beneath the coat and bunching up on her muffin-top to something, more pronounced. 
	“Hnnrgaaa, pheeewof… Snnwrfffraa, pwhheeeoo…” The Taxonecrosist laid with her head toppled over the keyboard, between snores her nose would shift to depress the keys, her report extending into pages of repeated letterings.
	-Ghhrbshs- Her gut churned. 
	“Mmwfowrfwhf…” she mumbled in a vague response. 
	-Sppfrrwrllwprth- A hiss of exhaust petered out her rear, the burble of clapping cheeks accentuating the calcium and vinegar. 
	“Fnnnfs, fwwnnf,” she sniffed, slowly opening her eyes. 
	“Wha… whas, tha smells like…” She mumbled, and slowly rose her head off the keyboard, – which followed a few cents of her journey before toppling off of her face. “How long have I been… oh balls. Must've, been all the adrenaline, or lack of…” She mumbled and stretched, shuffling of her chair with a haggard slump. She pinched her cheek and pried her eyelids open. 
	“Focus, Mara, the experiment is still on the clock,” she hobbled towards the scale. 
	-Fpprbbrfpfshts- A dry huff of vapours shifted into a moist grind halfway there. The Taxonecrosist chomping down her lip. “Metrics be damned, I can't keep you in there anymore…” She relented in her slumberdrunk haze, unbuttoning her lab skirt and squatting with the support of the table by her side. 
	-Fbbrrffwwootths- A horn of tart vapours wheezed through the woman's cheeks, pucker peeking through the bunched up  cheeks. The rugose flesh pumping back and forth, each protuberance distending its width. -Pfprwlslsch- till one trust broke the threshold. Maranda's brim blooming over a flattened, polished plane of the thrumming contraction from her hind washing through her body, each hump drawing the peeling the pucker back over the waste bin width brick of pale auburn muck. -Frllrscht- -Frpwlfhts- -Clfphrhsts- A symphony of crinkling flesh and drooling bowel lube played from the woman's hind, squatting lower under the weight of the behemoth plying its way through her hind with ample lethargy. Glistening veins of liquid trailed in through the tessellated pattern imprinted in the bale's surface; the fissures signifying segments of the boy's body broken down and cobbled together through her intestines in a patchwork of melding chartreuse and ochre hues. 
	“Mfmps pha… haa,” She panted out with a glance to her hind, “Enterobile's lookings mfms, sufficiently desaturated, gotta remember to… write tha… down.” She hummed and gritted her teeth as a -Bbfrrfflpfshths- flood of miasma vented through the interspace of bowel and bile, staining the air with a lime and banana tang that felt distilled into an alcohol. 
	-Chrlpffhsths- As the mound percolated through her hind, reaching about a finger's length from her cheeks, her pucker begun to contort, warping upwards in a rising bulge forming on the tip of the mound, -Fslprlffhshths- the brim peeling back with a squeal of polishing a windowpane with a slug as the dome uncovered as a smoothed cranium. 
	“Mfmngs, pmmgosoo. Oooh, Rawor I feel that, fmms, g-good progress, l-let’s hope my hind's been kind enough through the refsf mr-reminder of your osteolysis…” She mumbled, fumbling with her grasp on the counter as her hind -Bgbfflrpwths- unleashed a cloud of smog to uncage the skull from her hind, gadually snaking out. 
	The skull laid partially embedded within the pillar of manure, one socket submerged and the majority of the mandibles buried. -Chfrllpfhs- -Clllspvhhhrrllshts- The crinkling tension of her pucker playing out as it contorted and draped back along the cervical vertebrae of his spine, -Sghtpthsths. Scapulas and clavicles wedging out along with the droves of filth snaking its way through the Taxonecrosist's rectum and smushing onto the floor. -Chhtwrlflpstch- The fractures in the manure lined up with edges and interspace of the skeletal matter. The gargantuan bale of waste sagging free to bend in line with the floor, leaving Maranda shuffling onwards as she laid out the corpulent column. With the fissures, and smears of mulch goinng up the tiaroscuro between skeleton and sludge, the complementing paleness blurred in the haze of of intoxicating pungent mists rising from its surface. It painted the structure of Rawor's skeleton not merely plastered into the mulch, but unearthed), born and melded together with the heap of sludge trawling out of the stumbling, drowsy Taxonecrosist's waste hatch. 
	His ribs laid buried, though one could see their shape in the bulging ridges of the steaming clay drooping down from the spine. The humerous of his arm baked in bowel fudge, and emerging once more first at his metacarpals. 
	“Mfpghssspha… phaa,” Maranda heaved, huffing whilst her hind puffed up and buffed the beefy bale of baked bile burgeoning form her behind. “Thismfs, is a lot more, straining… fmmss the ratios were too generous, this fmms, is more dung than I'd expect from any tyke…” She huffed out. Elbows swaying as she passed the bulwark of a constipation, sustaining the steady flow of the hind peeling off the mulch getting to her. -Fhwhrlflpfshtsha- The smearing of gut bile strumming like a mud soaked violin brought her comfort, dreading the tensile pressure she would have to wage through were the mound not so drenched with internal lubricants. 
	“Mfmfmf smpwha, I shofmsm should have overestimated, mfmmore, how much ffms, fudge could be made of a si-single subject,” she mumbled in a haze, gritting her teeth as -Slflpfththsa her pucker mangled and malformed over Rawor's pelvis emerging through the bowels, along with a curdling -Clspths- squeal round the bump of his spine. 
	“Mfmsp pha… evg-glad t-that even, your coccyx made itmfms, unscathed…” She huffed, one hand toppling form the counter and planting onto the floor, the other following. The Taxonecrosist composed herself on the floor, with an obese tail of desaturated yellow manure worming out of her ass, surface glazed in viscous gut phlegm that glistened in the room’s overhead lights, the intact skeleton shimmering like the guise of an intricate vein of silver within a muddied mountain range. 
	“Mmfnfs paha…” Maranda breathed in a lungful of the tainted stench of vinegar and wilting fruit she exposed her lab to, and crawled onwards to unleash the batch of fat, steaming ass fudge, her pucker crawling down the slimming length of a protruding femur. 


~ 2 ~


Warmth. Rawor's mind was enveloped in a smog of pseudo consciousness. An array of random sensations injected from all directions. Humidity, tepid drought, coursing chills, tart odour, sickly sweet scents. -Fchrrl- -clfprrhthssa- As he moved, there came an accompanying tear and compression of grease. Sensations reminiscent of drying glue. -Glpsthhts- vines of liquid webbed his frame and the point of origin. The longer he held onto consciousness, the further he could grasp and interpret the signals. -Fhhprhgs- Clspghrhhsta- though it was first when he drew his foot out of the toppled column of steaming ass clay, that the situation became clear. And only when he inspected his foot, seeing the tarsals coming through, along with the individual phalanges of his toes flicking and bending, that he could fully grasp his state. 
	“Hw-… wha… whwh…” Rawor held over his cranium, feeling the clatter of calcium as he stepped back. 
	“Mfmg?” Maranada laid slumped over on the floor, the tail end of the mammoth bale of chartreuse tar. “Mm. Oooo, Success,” she mumbled, shuffling around on the floor, peering up towards the Rawor. “All according to predictions, sms, aside from the waaamfmfs-,” she yawned and laid her cheek against floor, “the human element. You are a fine animated skeleton, a prime exemplar.” she mused. 
	Rawor dropped his jaw. Though as the mandible fell he was quick to snatch it up, instinctively hinging it back into place with the zygomantic bones. 
	“Mmm… could be a bit more stable, y-faawwmmfffs, will grow into it.” 
	“W-was this what you-” 
	“Yup, and I knew you'd make the cutest devoted assistant. And a test of my studies.” 
	Rawor perceived himself, feeling over his ribs, tapping his manubrium. He wondered if this was all, really necessary. If she'd asked him to be her assistant, he'd say yes. Or… wait… would he? Was this sense of admiration for Maranada – the craftiest and most pretty Taxonecrosist there was – really his own? Had he felt this before his… transformation? It was as if his thoughts, couldn't… quite reach that far… 
	“Hawwmamfms fmsm,” she yawned again, curling up on the floor, “as your firsfmmts… command you could smfs… clean up after yourself,” she mumbled and gestured to the heap of muck on the ground, sloughing with the lack of a stable core, the gouged mould of his skeleton imprinted deep into its sculpt. 
	“Mfmsn, and weigh yourself… and awwmf. Without the vastosoma… and jot it down, pretty fmsm please…” she started to slur her words. Her eyelids fluttering, until it became a challenge to distinguish between her mutterings and snores. 
	Rawor considered her for a moment. Observing the lab, -Llth- -Cltj-crttt-. His vertebrae clattering together as he did, a nominal distraction. He found the stack of his clothes, folded neat on a counter, and wrapped the sleeping woman in his shirt. The animate skeleton then turned its attention to the heft of sludge, sunk his phalanges into the mire -Cshglltpthss- for a sturdy hold with sloughing dunes of mulch mushrooming between his bones, and got to work.