How the Western Samurai Went Extinct


Written by Septia.


Arms laid crossed above her head. Hands strangulating her wrists, the arms clamped tight to shut her ears. She couldn't escape the cries from the town; as one by one silenced, they only grew louder in her head. 
	“Rise and shine.” 
	The call rung in her head, her barred window hoisted up and planks flung from their nails, a burly arm fished her out of the window by the nape of her neck. “What a fine belle I've happened upon, how abouts we peel off those inhibitions, and see if your chimes strike mah fancy.” The Gorilla of a man spun his words in elegance, even whilst his thick grasp tucked her in towards him and stripped her off her gown, crammed in against the fat of the squirming gut before his, maw descended; the blade of a guillotine.
	Hank hoisted his head back, the woman's head protruding from his neck in swollen imprints as he chugged her down in with the grace of a trucker mistaken for a gourmand and attempting to play the part. -Chhrlgl- -Oomgppth-. 
	“Mhaha, ahnaf, Mmr gotta bust the ol' can free,” he mumbled and leaned over against his horse, rear propped up against over the stallion's hind a. -Grjrbst- his insides rumbling to a chorus of churns erupting in a -Bbrhhpwplllflfrrrpth-. His greasy buttocks spilling out from taut sweatpants, reverberated as cymbals to the blare of gastric swampgas. His horse joining in to pollute the air -Pfprrwrth- in green clouds, reeking of burnt onions and barbecue wrapped in crumbling parchment. 
	“Phew, Hank, That one's nasty, how 'bout I get the next ones, can't carry ya if only you gets the bulk.” The horse huffed out. 
	“Sure thang, There' still plenty of folk herre ta… snack on. H…” He paused at a swing cutting through the air, peeking back over his shoulder with his companion to see a quaint fellow unsheathing a blade. 


'Sensei, when you said a foul beast was rampaging across the desert, I didn't realise you were being polite.' I hoisted my sheath up to ward shim. 
	“You will regret stepping foot in this town, as with every location your greasy touch has sullied.” 
	“Whooho, spicy for a panther, good timing, too,” Hank clutched his gullet and snickered, “all these townsfolks were getting bland, You'll be a welcome chilli wing.” 
	“Unmount,” I commanded, balancing the sheath on the edge of my blade, “I need not weigh your heart to know grave nature of your sins.” The sheath sung to and fro, till it tipped to one end, and I grasped my katana steady. 
	“I am tempted to cut you open and confirm my suspicions.” 
	“Pha, boy, you think ya'll innocent. Everyone got their weakpoints, and ain't matter how much a wing flails in my gut, it'll melt you to mud and belt cracking girth all the same, kittyboy” 
	“I am Manson, and I will break you.” 
	“Oooh Manson, huh?” Kirin said and turned Manson around with him, his abdomen bending into the swing of the motion, bobbing to scrape against the ground with a tumult of cries and grasping limbs muffled under the plumped stallion's gut, “if you are as smooth as your name I wouldn't mind sucking you down and down and down like a big sweet lollipop.” 
	I felt a tremor through my dominant arm, eyes tracing the voluminous outlines of the stallion’s dark mane whipping over the chestnut coat that curved in arcs ferrying my sight along from face to posterior. 
	“Easy, hoss, this spunky critter's mine.” “
	The stallion scoffed but shook up its mane, giving the samurai an inquisitive look. 


Time slowed for the breath of the wind. The three stared each other down. 
	“Haaaa,” I plunged. 
	Hank barrelled off of Kirin with the grace of a twirling feather, my back paw, clutching the sheath when his attention laid on me, and threw it right at him. -Whhisth- the husk whistling through the air and slamming into him with a ringing -Dklkdkfnk-. I followed through, arching my blade to strike at his arm. -Kddnnkt- The swing interrupted as the edge met the side of my sheath. My teeth clenched, Hank casually warding off my strike with my impromptu projectile. 
	“Boy, just for that, you are going down where the sun don't shine, won't make a difference in the end,” he leaned in so his cap brim clunked into my forehead, “you mightn't sport enough bulk to give of an ass, but all those toned muscles gon be a steamy heap of o' sludge by tomorra.” 
	I withdrew my sword, winding to a twist and thrust, yet his frame left my vision like the shadows under my eyelid. I focused, breathed, till I distinguished his footsteps, painted the empty street in my mind, 
	“Hyyaa,” I shouted, spinning into a crescent to slice across his legs, -Kkrktch- again my blade was caught, red sparks flying from the impact… he was sporting a pocketknife, wait… a multi tool? 
	“Handy buggers theses, ain't them?” 
	A twitch of anger flared, but before I could act on it I felt the presence of sweat, and innocent cries. 
	“Gotchya,” Kirin called, as he pancaked my legs to the ground under his slamming gut. -Ppdttwph- I felt the blubber of the horse belly bulldoze my body, bending in bulges of buff body butter. The paving bulk moulding as smooth as marshmallow when it brought me down, steeled taut when it pinned me to the ground. -Ggrhrbsltsh- -Ghrbbrslth- The sloshy gurgles of the stomach echoed around me, I felt people slosh and reel within, molten to a chyme that rippled the curvaceous abdomen as a passionate drumskin. 
	“Well dog garn, so thas how your swing'?” 
	Hank's question made me realise my red hot cheeks, the distraction exploited as he kicked away my katana to the curb. 
	“Oh?” Kirin wondered. 
	“He fancies ya.” 
	“Ooooh-” -Grllrpsguh- The horse's mountain of a gut rippled above, submerging my legs in the rhythm of oscillating flesh.
	“He's right to, hard to get your eyes off this mfms, hot tummy, or fancy but, once it got ya gaze, or all of your body, as many lucky studs can attest to,” Kirin teased, grinding his gut over my back, humping up to submerge me. When sandwiched between dry earth with coarse sand and the fluff of the gelatine flabbed belly, there was no comparison in which I preferred. 
	
	“It's tempting, but aint tempting enough to give such a spunky brat up,” Hank reached out and grabbed my arm, “Already promised ya a one way ride, and at the end of which not even the plants would taken kindly on you.” (rephrase)
	“You dare to mock me,” I whispered, and hoisted myself out of the carpeting fat with the leverage of Hank's arm, slamming an open palm into his protruding pot belly -Smmwmthc- 
	“Oog,” he stumbled back, wheezing. 
	“Phha, huhaa… he-… hhhe, oh you stirred the belle up right,” his stomach constricted, detailed outlines morphing flat with a liquid crunch -Shcllrth- -Bbbrrffllowth- A rich mist poured from his rear, as if the punch had knocked a cork out of his ass. 
	“Thank ye kindly, seem's ya'll be good for massages, and fertiliser.” 
	I launched into a series of blows, jabbing fingers to crater his flesh and bend his muscles, Hank stumbling back after every hit. Sensei had taught me of pressure points, yet… wherever I aimed, it didn't connect. The resistance my strikes met was not but adipose tissue; his fat figure obscuring my strikes. 
	“Fmgnnr, right now, that is gotta teach ya not to bite back,” Hank huffed, occasionally deflecting a blow, yet I put the pressure on high, backing him to the house which barricades he'd wrecked. -Ddwwfft- a clean strike. 
	-Bhuuurraaaoollp- humid vapours pooled from his maw, washing me in a stream of rich, lard and pepper battered mildew and hearty beef. I clutched over my face and was battered to the ground with the back of Hank's palm. 
	“Hey, big black leopard.” 
	I pulled my face up, crusted in sand. 
	“You felt right at home under me,” Kirin mused, the horse trotting up to me, walking mere cents near my face, letting the clopping of his hooves match the rumbling -Gbrbrlslt- of the gut. My eyes caught his haunches, raised by one thigh high up, till it bobbed in place – a mound of bundled up pillow – then eased down for the other hind to swell. “I can think of one place you'd fit better, I know you want it, and I wouldn't mind munching down on a hot hairball like yourself, He leaned down, stomach pushed flat totter to the ground, bales of blubber swelling out as the mass compacted onto the road -Gllrlsths- the insides squelched as a washing machine full of pancake batter. 
	I blinked to halt my vision from glancing over, grunting whilst heaving myself up to my knees, quivering with the jostles of the stallion's embrace. 
	“Might let you take a return trip, if you are a good booty stuffer,” Kirin whinnied. 
	“Sorry hoss…” 
	My vision cleared, as Kirin helped heave Hank over his back, the hippo of a man riding down this sloped steed's back, a trip that landed him smack dab on my tattered body. 
	“This cowboy''s reached the end of the line, and return won't be pretty.” -Spplrlfth-. 


The texture of cotton shipped past me, replaced in the bulk of meat parting to. The slabs of chub pried apart with my head as the chisel. -Sprlslthc- My face crammed up to Hank’s ring of pulsating sinew. -Chrsllpth- The crinkle of drool crackling in my ears as the pucker widened before my eyes. Moist lips planted around my face, framing my head and slithering down my back. Hair combed flat under a reverberating rim of rugose rumpmeat. -Psprhhrflflflrth- Colon brewed stench slapped into my coat, soaking it in bowel oils and swelling the gape to engulf my shoulders, -Chllrptwh- clamping over my arms and hugging me up in dragging swallows. The walls twitched and swathed me in its grasp; air restricted for moments at a time whilst the warping suction hoisted me through the pucker. The precipice of moisture drawled down my chest, drenching my robe matte to my body, the tension at the rear pinching my muscles closed, and the coat grew heavy in absorbing the juices of cultivated posterior juice dripping from the undulating walls. His brim cruised over and buckled around my rear. Quivers vibrated trough my form as the plump marauder's buns crawled down my legs. -Chhrglsph- -Grhrlslcchrth- Crinkling of glass polished with butter, the atmosphere stuffed in tepid air whilst his rim protruded and receded, reaching out to paste its rim around further down my shins, and haul them back as a fisher reeling in his catch. 
	“Playtime's over? I was growing attached to the lil' hairball.” 
	Pal,” Hank said, raising himself up, I felt his glutes flex in rhythm, devouring my legs as I wedged through the winding bowels, “between the both of us, you got the bigger ass.” 
	I shifted, writhing my body to and fro, bumping against the colon wall, but was only met by a pat from the outside, as Hank rubbed down the mounds of my silhouette formed down his abdomen. 
	'Sides, mmfm, I made, I keep my promises, aint that right, chicken wing?” He taunted whilst his rear clenched, jamming down in plush gnaws over my digits, munching up my feet to send them in to the Hank's personal sewers. 


~ 1 ~


-Chrrlslght- -Cghrhrsltl- -Pffffft- the folded walls surrounding me squeezed and stretched as; an accordion of flesh veiled by the tenebrous atmosphere of the man's gutters. -Sqhsuch- I was dragged forwards, daubed in strings of colon gel rippling as old gum and emitting an odour of copper stained goulash. -Crlrlsth- an orifice opened with a smack of crumbling pudding, the intestines peeling off of my coat to deposit me in the gut, my body compacted to the taut walls moulding to vacuum seal onto my contours in its clutches. I battered the walls, driving my palms into the plying flesh. 
	“You can't, do this, do you know who you are messing with?” 
	-Bhruuaalp- Hank belched, patting his chest and grinding his knuckles on the lumps rising across his beanbag gut. “Someone who's gonna get on with digesting, I reckon.” He turned the samurai's sword in sword in his grasp. 
	“Gonna keep it?, asked Kirin. 
	“Peh. Cumbersome knick knack.” I heard a faint clang of my blade being discarded, as the man hoisted himself back up in the saddle.
	-Schshlslght- The walls contorted, cramming the slurry of chyme up my robe, pooling in enzymes at the neck, the heated liquid triggering reflexes that only made me tumble in the gut, inviting more dissolving gruel to masticate into my frame. 
	“Phha, that's it, we'll have you proper soon enough, like a juicy raspberry, you'll melt right into jam.” -Chhglrlspth- foul air circulated in the gut, stinking my nose with the putrid stain of dog food gelatine and ash. “Though you won't be nearly as sweet,” he mumbled. 
	-Ghhtsllt- -Chhrsltsh- -Grbrsllgsu- The rhythm of Kirin's steps jostled my prison chamber, bumping me into the surround walls, bending under the pressure of my body only to close in whatever space I left empty -Chhrlth- -Ckkwpth-. My body giving off a sloppy splat as it juggled between the drapes of meat. Staring down my frame revealed little in the darkness, yet as the gut contracted, I felt the numbing enzymes scarped along my frame. My body melting under their influence, and scooped up by the massaging kneads of my fluid surroundings. -Brbslut- The chyme around me bubbled, littered in droplets of ink melted from my body. The stomach radiated warmth, and my own flesh was begin exude the melting goop right back. Heat and flesh moulded into wax, my own. I felt bales of segments of my arms and back folded into dunes of wax, drooling down my frame and shaken off in the stirring chambers rumbles and churns from the rocking ride. 
	Coming along smooth as butter.” 
	I felt Hanks grasp sink into the gut around me, digging through his pudge and straight through me as well, the wall of meat contorting my body as a lump of warm humid clay. The more he rubbed and the longer my senses petered out in the melange gut porridge pooling around me, the less I could resist to join it. My thoughts turned to sensei, what would they say if they saw me now, as a hunk of shoddily sculptured mud in the likeness of their pupil? 
	“Sen… sei…” My mumbles devolved into a bubbling -Gusltls- gurgles. Frame slopping together, churned under steady kneads of toned stomach brawn, congealing into a heap of blackened sludge a, dressed in scraps of a once white robe. 
	The journey continued, more and more of me fed down the abyss of the man-bowels. This time, they were taking their time with me. 


~ 2 ~


-Ppsrbbrrltlpth- A gale of ripe fumes plumed forth in a haze of petrol and molten slag. 
	“Excuse you, that's a dozy.”
	“Hey now, it is a fmmm, little feller that wating ta see you again.” Hank raised his haunches off the saddle, peeling down the sweatpants halfway to the rump billow out over the constraint. -Bbrrlwlpgpghfhht- An eruption of exhaust coursing through the crack. 
	.-Bwbnnght- The cheeks bobbed in warmth, as they expunged the gas of the drained combatant, their bulk swelled. Layers of fat building over the portly buns. Flab swelling out by several cents, as dough rising from its form, -Bbrnnss- stretches”?) of organic rubber undulating the bloating cheeks, till they settled, bobbing over the trap of cloth with the ease of windchimes, and the weight of boulders. 
	“Phhaa, thats the ticket, so, fmm, refreshing,” Hank huffed, leaning back on his padded bottom, and letting his stomach well forth in the arc -BBGllsprth- -Cbbwnnt- His gut sunken back to a tubby depth, and billowing through in width, glistening bales of blubber crowned the marauder's midriff, stretching his shirt stiff under the mass constrained underneath. 
	“Mmfms, aaah,” Hank huffed, swatting his gut and draping his fingers over it, feeling droves of fat mould and sculpt in grooves under the paths of his fingers, feeling in the girth the feline had contributed to his physique. 
	“Recon it is a good time to pull over, raise camp.” 
	“Hmmr, mm,” Kirin huffed and neighed under his breath. 
	“What in? Hey, you got more than your fill, still not upset about that sharp hoss? There's gon be a ton of hot things ready to dive up your behind in the next town.” 
	“Mmmrfff, course, can't resist my ass.” 


~ 3 ~


-Ppprbrbrhth- -Bbrrfclrktlh- “Hoouf… ha…” Hank huffed, kneeling by a rock outcropping in an oasis's lake. -Pprlbfltlh- his pucker brewing bubbles of gullet phlegm at his hind, and caving in, then protruding outwards in a clenched bud of met. 
	“Mfms, be on your way now, only got so much hospitality to go roundmmf,” the man huffed. Hank's brim trembled, swollen from a mountain of rugose flesh. 'Fpprhrhht' Then a thin gap unleased a flutter of vapours, growing to a rousing bubble of steam peeling back the meat mountain to a crater to reveal the slab of umber clay peeking out of the. Its hue uniform in faint hues of darker browns to rich aubruns, the mound of pureed manure serpentined its way through the parted cheeks in winding lengths to tangle over the rocks below. -Chrhslthc- slime clutched to the brim, liquid filth brought from down the depths of the glutton's abyss surfaces with the splatter of cracking open an overstuffed jam jar  -Chrlslfslghts-. 
	“Oooh yeah, theat isfmm, much smoother, fsmms, pahaa, taken me for a ride now, are ya?” Hank puffed as his pucker warped around the trunks of manure, rivalling his own obsess arms for girth so his fingers dug deep into this plush ass to separate the buns for the column of sludge to billow past the polishing precipice of the plump nozzle. -Sllstpsh- -Scplth- the grime tumbled over the rocks, moulding into cracks and slopping down crevices t, (lose the “t”) budging rocks out of the way to open hollows which the mulch crept into. Coils of dung -Splslth- smacked onto one another, its glistening sheen radiant by the cool light of the moon, and their outlines separating them melding together as more -Ppfbbrllwplth- sewage oozed out of Hank's hind. Steam rose in droves from the smooth colon nougat, the fat droves curving to doodling lines of script, though the message never to be discerned, seeing the molten gunk wallowing into itself and siphoning down the drains between the boulders… -Ppbbrwjpth- -Psbbtlwlpth- a greasy blast of rectal preconscious splattered coils of moulding manure over the crags, ranges of mocha chocolate, sprawling into smooth, flattened blankets of bile, their odour infesting the fresh air with its melange of pepper boiled ham and tar into the night. 
	“Phoooaha,” Hank grunted with pride and scooched up his sweatpants over his rear, wriggling his hips to budge them down the now taut fit, fingering down bulks of booty flab into the folds of the fabric. “Thanks for the ride, partner, think this is just what you needed to relax. Being a samurai wasn't a good for ya either way,;” (lose the comma or semicolon) he peeked back at the soiled cracks of shark rock, drizzled in toppled pillars of dung, “but you make a heack uva mudpie.” 


~ 4 ~


Darkness parted by the scale of fate. A familiar face in the abyss. A scornful glare… 
	I rose. My mind numbed, eyes glazed over. The oasis began to take form in before my senses. Naked, I stumbled down the rocks, over the grass, holding my shoulder. Seems I had upset father, yet I was still here. Nearby was the familiar spark of a dying flame, where the perpetrators laid, resting.
	Hardy little hairball, aren't you?” 
	One of them was at least sleeping. I teetered to Kirin, stumbling to my knees before them, seeing their whole, chubby frame resting on the ground, made them look like a bale of dough, left forgotten to rise overnight. 
	“You… are beautiful.” 
	Kirin was taken aback, but then licked his lips. 
	“I know, hun, you got quite distracted though during the tussle. Sure ya wouldn't like to slide down here?” He teased me with his parted maw, drool tethered from his upper row of teeth down the pink tongue. 
	“Think I'll… take you up on that.” 
	“Hmm? Mmpght-.” Kirin coughed as I reached my paw inside, then the other, splaying myself straight down his wide gape, feeling the brush of air from his sturdy, equine lungs. As his muzzle closed over me, – invited me to the chamber of plush humidity – I felt as if reunited with an old friend. He hoist his head up and chugged him down -Gmlllrpn- -Oomrpgh- -Gllrlprsn- swallows guiding me through, reducing my frame to a line of domes warping out the stallion's neck, and securely stuffing down the depth of his gut, disappearing just above the chest. 
	-Ommgllnh- -Burhhaaaalpt- A belch washed string of drool off to fly on the currents of fermented fog, the stallion smacking his lips and rubbing his muzzle down at emerging bloats down his middle. “Seem's your travels aren't over, quite yet, you scrumptious lil' hairball.” 
	I heard Kirin muse outside, as I reclined to drift away into slumber, in the heated sleeping bag of his stomach.