Hierarch's Ballast


Written by Septia.


“Worm, report to me this instance.” 
	The door in front of Chrono slid free, rousing him from his slumber. He stumbled to a stand and stepped into Tolfer's chamber. The room he was assigned to was barely more than a closet, and had but one exit, opened with Tolfer's permission. 
	“L-loaah… l-Lord Tolfer.” 
	“Master.” 
	“M-master Tolfer.” 
	Tolfers eyelids narrowed. 
	Chrono stumbled forth, hurried to be by their bedside as Tolfer lounged back, waiting for Chrono to prostrate himself. 
	“M-master lord Tolfer.” 
	“Better.” He commented, his tail wrangling around Chrono's neck. “Conquering tends to take it out of you. I am growing bored with the supplies we have available before we reach the next civilised rock.
	“Y-yes Master lord,” Chrono mumbled, feigning the effect the strangling took on him. 
	“Tell me, what species are you?” 
	Chrono blinked. “I… come from a plant where-.” 
	“Ah ah, what did I ask of you, bitch?” 
	“I am, a type of humanoling who-.” 
	“You take forever. To be expected of a maggot,” he said and grabbed one of Chrono's fingers. 
	-SKhhrrrkthrckt-. 
	Chrono's face drained blue, contorting in discomfort, staring perplexed at the stump where his finger had been, a broken clean off its knuckle. Scarlet blossomed from the gouge. 
	“Suppose I must be the one to expose myself to see if your species serves any purpose in nutrition,” Tolfer said and lobbed the finger into their maw, Chrono getting a glimpse of his round, ebony digit guided into place by the tongue. -Chrrlrtghlpghts- The jaws locked down with a squelch like a hammered sausage, -Chhgrg- -Vhghgs- a grind of meat milling into pulp seeping out through Tolfer's lips between chews, bone crunching and cracking -Chckts- to dust. 
	“Mmfg, fair,” he mumbled -Gllblhpgloompgh- and swallowed, the bump swelling his gullet and fading under his cleavage. “Hardly enough of a taste to establish a flavour profile,” he said, tail uncoiling to let Chrono clutch his wrist and gasp for breath. “Remember my instructions on making a mess of yourself?” 
	Chrono shuddered, and jammed his stump into his maw, keeping it from spilling. 
	“Better,” he waved his hand, holding it outstretched. Chrono shuddered, then laid out his left arm… 
	-Chrlprpshc- 
	-Ckflptghtsksrt-. 
	Two digits snapped in succession, a strum of phantom pain piercing the stumps trailing down his wrist, arm, and brushing all the way to his shoulder 
	Tolfer planted the fingers in his maw like a snack, rolling them over to this side of his cheek, and biting again, -Chhgg- -Krhghbrgs- the grinds of his teeth scraping off layers of black flesh, introducing more and more sanguine to the fingers transitioning to a deep purple and soon scraped to a raw red. -Hrhhpfpths- Splotches of scarlet splattered out as Tolfer -Chrlrpthc- rammed his jaws down, caving in the fingers and sundering the bones within. -Htpths- -Chhhrsbghs- He chewed with an open maw, pondering and considering the flavours and texture as his molars macerated the fingers into a bloody porridge riddled with bone scraps and straps of skin, filaments of sinew stretching between his teeth -chthhsts- in each chew, liberally kneading it off, the solid teeth immersing the flesh into uniform dew of meat. He rolled it back and forth between his cheeks, then distending it with the -Shwptush- squish of the palette. He deepened his maw for Chrono. Closing in, the stench of copper and salt reeked from the maw, -Klhptshts- before the tongue arched up, and sloped the mortar of brawn down into Tolfer's throat, engorging Tolfer's gullet with a plump, ovoid glob that was, in turn, swallowed up under the massive mammaries, rounding out a bump on his gut. “Savory, though lean and rubbery,” he said -Chhprths-.
	In the next moment, Chrono stared down at the stump of his right hand. 
	“Haarmmpgwp,” Tolfer wedged the appendage down his maw, lips sprawling to stretch and accommodate the hand, closing around it with a sleek -Shgphthsts-. -Chrrch- -Krhshtghsrnkcskt- The chews grew moist, loud, and sloppy, as Tolfer's cheeks filled with the milled palm. Occasional smacks timed themselves with Chrono’s pained, raspy panting, clutching his severed wrist. 
	“Mfhn, mfsh, getting better.” Tolfer noted, whilst Chrono's whole nervous system rippled, working through the ache and attempting to intercept every river of life fluid draining from the open, clean wounds. 
	-Chhrrllchs- -Cvrrllcshrstch-. The crunch of Tolfer's teeth pulverising calcium mingled with the -Shffllrsths- sheering of the molars pruning away layer after layer of flesh. 
	As the act took its course Chrono remained witless, at first paralyzed with fear and ache, but soon enough lacking the energy or limbs to act on their emotions. 
	-Bglrpghs- -Chfpfs-. Tolfer's gut gradually distended as malformed blobs of Chrono paste clogged its system, swelling out to dip into their lap as the recruit was transmuted into mincemeat by way of hierarchy chomps. 


-Brhruraaalrprrp-. “PhTolfer smacked his lips, tasting the belch. “Pitiful.” He hoisted up Chrono's head by his horn, the decapitated cranium blinking, gazing back at them. “Phewf,” he scoffed at them, seeing dripples of Chrono's blood collecting in a smudge on the floor. His lips parted, distending around the girth of Chrono's head, as the last of him was unceremoniously transferred to engorge Tolfer's cheeks. -hrlrlpfhtghts- -Ckfkprthhst- The molars ground into him with the ferocity of a chainsaw, gradually milling the bloat into chunky, liquid bulges sagging the hierarch's cheeks, -Chrrktkc- -ckkrths- worked down with the inevitability of a millstone. -Ooglglmrmphg- With a swallow the bumps were coalesced into one oblong dome trailing down his gullet, feeding its volume into the awaiting gut, jutting out under the resting breasts. Tolfer's gut was smooth with the blood porridge congesting them, burgeoning their gut in the likeness of a plump autumn gourd. 
	-Bhuraaahrrslp- They eased out a gust of guttural exhaust, contracting the confines of the gut to a taut orb as the lips vibrated in the reverberating gale. “After suffering through such poor service and a lousy display, I will abstain from being sighted with your ilk.” The hierarch said, and rose from their bed, holding one arm aloft and… -Shhntchr- Clenching their fist shut. -BRHggphts- -Chrrlprntghsscgnh-. Their swollen abdomen deflated, compacting with the brief cacophony of a shellfish chucked in a meat grinder. -Chthtngghtsrs- The compacting force slimmed out the gratuitous bulge; a meter’s worth of Chrono reconvened to a meagre dome, compacting all that the entire of Chrono was to a dispersed perturbance, a whisper on the lord's figure. 
	“I cannot be bothered.” Tolfer curted, sauntering out. Chrono was reduced to a victim to their morning grumpiness, as they rode the elevator platform to the bridge. 


~ 1 ~


 -Shfbrrlrlrlrstqqulsh- -Fstnwpclsh- A fat sausage of sludge spluttered with a chorus of reeks and crinkles through the pit, dug and snapped off by the chomp of the buxom pucker to -Spbttwtlpsw- make an impact like congealed porridge in the stack of a manure heap resting below it, tangles of deep burgundy and purple speckled with a dress of fracturing ebony fissures. It was venting with moisture carrying the sodium-rich heat of being baked in the heir arch's bowels. The manure stacks moulded and bent under the oncoming load, -Chrlrlpsths- -vhrnrgslsl- morphing to accommodate the dense loaves curling free from the pit above. -Chrlrpgh- -Grhsghsllts- The preceding onslaught of carapace-sprinkled manure wormed out of the rogue nest warping and malforming over the cragged filth's exterior, winding through to reach for the calf-tall tangle of molten gunk. -Frbprhrhts- A flush of vapours trailed along out and warmed the backside of the loaf enough to have it droop and spackle over its molten form, over its own crevices, glistening with a sheen of collected the luminance from the room to a mimic the faucet of a gemstone -Chfrprpths- -Cthtwptmp- before being relinquished from Tolfer's frame and dunking onto the dough dung. The weight and heat emanated from the melding together of the piles and seams.
	“I doubt you could fathom the honour you are receiving. Who among your peers of refuse have applied themselves to such dignified waste.” -Fbrrofsth- He lurched back in the metallic rib cage suspended over the refuse hatch, each limb of the structure confining to their motions to support them fully, whilst their posterior -Chbrlfpfsths- disgorged chunky blobs of the matte mortar, warping out of the contorting pit to smother the heap below, dunes steaming their noxious aura of singed sinew and pickled coal into the atmosphere. 
	-Chsphths- -Sprhbtsts- As the waste pooled free, its consistency began to falter, stretching off into filaments of manure phlegm tethering the droves to the creases of the pucker. The lines of gunk sprawled out in nets of bowel dew as the lumps dispersed, the filth all connected together by the threads of colon dew — taking the guise of a fishnet with mud gunking the segments in its latticework. -Sfbrpwrhfffwrrlrlrtths- -Spfbtths- With a thud the globe of compacted muck dropped into the pile, trawling out with a few sparse threads of viscous goo from the rectum and sprawling out below, hoisted out by a few gales -fbbrrprpfht- of toasted beetle. “I would say your new form befits the state of your character better, then again, it is hardly a transformation seeing how utterly garbage you were. Barely lasting through a pleasuring session grants a filthy insect no levity in my domain.” He said, sour, leaping off from the articulated seat, which folded back into the wall. He turned, giving a glance to the sodden stack of melting loam, -Sfplrrs- the surface disturbed by an occasional bubble. “However, I am far from finished with the likes of you.” 


~ 2 ~


Chrono’s very being rattled. The recruit was kept aware, clinging to consciousness throughout the ordeal, every crunch of Tolfer's molars, every scorch of the acids, each tug and grind of the bowels macerating them, drawn to experience every moment, but now, it was fading. 
	His eyes opened. Choking. “Brh-fhaggrah." He breathed air in his lungs once more. Feet on the ground, he was standing. Eyes creaked open, and gazed on the familiar sight of cyan-shielded breasts. 
	-Chthpstpw- He felt the welt of an ache on his cheek, as his world tumbled to the ground. Chrono peeked up -thtwnghs- suspended before the ground by a chokehold around his neck. His fingers explored the collar constricting him, and followed the leash thereby up, toward Tolfer, smirking. 
	“So now you even have the guts to go attempt to die on me? You are my property, and I will decide when the time is proper to discard you.” 
	“Cha. Ghas. T-Tolfer?” Chrono wheezed, a tri-digit sole shoving him to the ground, the leash strapped taut between them. 
	“Good. You still have that those wimpy lungs. This next bit is just not as fun without the cries.” Tolfer brought three digits together, their skin melding seamlessly and distending to a malformed pyramid, the front end scorching grey, then onyx, before a gleam of light burst forth. The laser beamed onto Chrono's thigh. 
	Skin, layer by layer, peeled off and was sundered by the plasma, the pain shocking him back to reality with squealing, shouts and groans interspersed with coughs jagging through his throat. Though, the heat merely etched, staying a the surface. He peered down, seeing Tolfer etch his insignia straight into his carapace and skin, branding him… 
	“Does it hurt? I bet it does. Revel in it, savour it… that is what it feels to be accepted by a hierarch. From now it is marked as official, your position in my forces: my personal pleasure mutt.” 
	Chrono squealed, crying out until the insignia was completed, and the leash eased for him to topple to the ground, heaving, panting. A tug on the leash. 
	“Flip over.” 
	Chrono swallowed, peering back up. 
	“Did you think I was marking only one side?”