Raeija's Tributed Maturity


Written by Septia.


“Your attention,” the voice of the warden echoed across the ship's speakers, “we are approaching the Geogynegene-cluster. Ball tributes are advised to secure themselves in their designated seat. Those who can not, or do not, shall be promptly assisted.” 
	The last sentence invoked a whisper of a threat, though to some it was, quite overt. I had seen others struggle, resit, plead, beg… all reprimanded, all returned to – some locked in – their cubicle… -Bnnfgk- The see-through wall next to me was hammered by a recluvian, they had been rowdy the entire trip. Their reptilian hind-legs were now shackled. 
	“They are maniacs, everyone here is dead. We gotta fight back or the bastard Gynese is gonna eat us all,” they screamed. And were promptly… assisted, to the cubicle's seat. Think this is for comfort, it's to avoid cross-contamination, we're livestock.” 
	I scoffed. My antenna bobbing, shuffling back with my shell clattering as I secured myself in the adjustable seat. What a moron. Of course we were. It is such a shame that there are those who forsake the honor, of becoming one with our saviours.


We landed. At least, I thought we did? The gynegean guards were guiding us out of the cubicles. The lack of windows in the vessel gave it an air of mystery: was this it? Had we landed soundlessly… were we… on Geogynegene? A share of us were lead out of their vessel, into a ship bay without a roof, gracing me with the an indigo sky… we really had travelled across the stars. My whisker antenna flittered as I drew in a quick breath. 
	“let me go.” The recluvian from before shouted beside me. I rolled my four eyes, wishing to say respond with: 'this is why you are still in in shackles', or 'show some respect'. Instead I just scoffed. 
	“With any luck,” the Gynegean keeping an eye on them responded, “I just might get to do that.” 
	 I Followed their gaze to another group surveying a chart, one stood out in orange clothing, head folded over a data plate. I recognized the symbols… (It was the vunvel, the noble houses. Cun'conton, Cel'prque, Vun'gyan, 'Vel'Ren, all of them.) The System which dictated the saviour's actions. Without them, Gynegea's protection would have been contained to their own cluster, instead of spreading across the stars. Perhaps the most illustrious congregations in all of-. 
	“Vun'Aran's share to freight at the ready.” Someone shouted. 
	Then, our line, my line, began to move. “V-Vun'aran? I-I'm going t-to one of the noble houses?” 
	“Appears so, shame, ain't you lucky?” My whiskers fluttered, chest pumping taut against my carapace, I clasped my palms together. I-I had been granted the honour of tribute, and sent to the noble house, which had rescued my home. 


~ 1 ~


The gynegean representatives stationed in my village had spun me tales of their homeworld. In the night time I'd join them for their watch, regaled of the glowing city in the light of the starlit sky. A world in perpetual twilight with cities sprawling to the horizons… And yet… I was still shocked when I stepped out, and took in the majesty of the planet. It really, did glow. A luminance of lime and cyan hung as mists over relief inscribed architecture. Towering builds and parks in violet marble, the very atmosphere weighing on me with a potent scent tickling my whiskers; I had stepped into a realm meant for greater beings. The saviours. 
	Guided onto a sprawling walkway, I felt the new vessel rise and zoom on thin air, following the path swirling and trailing between buildings; granting us a tour of the city. In the distance… rose a mansion, no… A castle, spires fanned by a gossamer membrane as the spread wings of a twilight fly. The Castle of Vun'Aran. 


As we were let out and accounted for, I requested an audience with one of the guards, wondering how this would be handled. She told me we would be provided accommodations until such time our need was required. Close to the premises. 
	“Though, I wouldn't count on the accommodations being long term~” they joked.
	I shudder, so my carapace clattered. 
	“Aw, you're surprisingly cute.” 
	“I won't stand for this, you corrupted our government, you are parasites, parasigmmpfhfs-” Someone, finally, stuffed a gag in that recluvians mouth. 
	As we headed towards a building beside the castle, another vessel… showed up. Our guards halted, turning towards it, and bowed in a salute. It, appeared similar to the vessel we had travelled in, why would… how would they know, what is-… 
	The door rolled open… a spark of crimson broke through the landscape, a sleek silken gown draped along a luscious form, each speck of the dress glistening as if cared off the surface of a pearl. From out the vessel stepped a regal presence, her antennae short, with bulbs in the sculpt of angled clubs, and a waterfall of golden blonde curls draped down their back. Her skin were the turquoise of my oceans, eyes blank, and mouth short… the countenance of an ancient statue brought to life. 
	“Lady Aran,” greeted a servant rushing down from the castle.
	The gynegean's gaze strapped them in response. 
	“L-lady Raeija,” the servant corrected themselves, “I trust the summit went smoothly?” 
	She remained, staring. Before turning with a snap to face them. “I better like your next words, or my mood'll be the, least, of your worries.” 
	“Aah… well, the monthly tributes ju-just arrive-.” 
	Rae stepped up to the servant, and tugged them down by their uniform's choker, holding them beneath her eye-level. “If the lady of the house was here, I'd bet she’d call for a feast then… Oh wait, she is, and I'm her.” 
	The servant nodded fervently. 
	“There better be stacked plates when I get to the dining room.” 
	“O-of course, mi-.” 
	Rae tugged them closer, squinting. “Two live dishes.” 
	“Y-y-yes Laday ar-. M-miss re-. A-.” 
	Raeija tsked and dragged the servant aside before letting them go. “Don't bother, Rae's works just fine, Litja.” 
	I stared transfixed on the exchange. The authority, the composure, the… pronounced, exterior, all weaved a song of royalty. I barely noticed when the guard grasped my shoulder. “Looks like it is your lucky day.” 


~ 2 ~


Clanging of metal utensils, steam rolling through the air, a fog of motions and commands: the kitchen was a symphony of controlled chaos. I had never seen a room this big. Separated from the others, I was brought to an empty station, watching the recluvian brought in after me. Thankfully further away. I was still... reeling from the encounter with the Raeija Vun'Aran, a Gynegean princess. I mean, I hadn't really met her, but… but I might now. I- I was almost certain to-. 
	“Aaaaaassfffss,” a creature soared an exhale, rising up from behind the counter to inspect me, “I was assured, I mfmff smeellled,” the eyeless creature spoke as an array of tendrils clasped like ribs on her neck, folded up in succession as she savoured the word, “a Jyrr'soma here. Come… come. We must work.” 
	While taken aback, I followed the chef's instructions, shuffling my bulky frame onto the counter in front of them. They were a foromodial. The tendrils over their neck continued into a pair of long, prehensile whiskers around their mandibled maw, the empty surface of the rest of their head decorated in looping markings. 
	“S-sorry, it wasn't my intent to be a bother, I just hope I can b-be a… worthwhile, tribute… for…” I mumbled, as the blind chef inspected my body, drawing closer, digits hovering a hair above my carapace, leaning in with her neck towards my face, their tendrils unfolding, rattling, far closer than I had ever let someone get to me… Then… Their whisker curled, giving the lightest tap on an exposed patch of flesh on my cheek skin. Then she ricochet back with her mandibles buzzing. “Yes, I have all I require.” 
	“O-oh.” 
	“Let us begin, with dressing you down.” 
	I shuddered. “Or-right, a clothed meal would be ridiculous, I can s-shed, but it takes a while to-.” I began, while the foromo had already prepared a syringe and pricked it in between a gap in my carapace, an itch spread underneath my skin as they punctured in along exact joins on my frame. 
	“You smmf ssshould shimmy out, now.” 
	The itch injected into my membrane, my body undulating to the crawling. -Shclpth- until, it eased… I felt my body detach from my sturdy, midnight shell. The carapace gliding off of my form like a suit of armour greased in fat. I drew my arms inwards, leaving the sleeves of my carapace slumping at my sides. The foromo drawing it off of my legs. It… felt like I was molting, a process taking, days for an adult. But in mere moments. The chef had peeled away my shell, and scaled me down. Finally… lifting the torso plate above me, unveiling my sleek, coral membrane and slender shape on the counter. -Cllkn- -Ckrlth- My iridescent vertebrae pearls clinking against the shell as it was hoisted up, the only other part of carapace remaining, was that on the sides of my head, and the patches over my joints. I hadn't seen my bare skin in weeks, nor been this… cold. 
	“Yyees, reconstructed jyrr'soma, remain, still,” the chef instructed as they dunked huge chunks of my shell in a pot and brought it to boil, whilst whipping a solution of custard oil with fluids from biotic gems and twilight glory extract. This they brushed onto my skin. The clear cerulean paste gumming into my membrane rather than drooping off the lubricated coral membrane. I tucked in both pairs of leg, shuddering at the mellow tickle of the loaded goop bristles. 
	“Them tm too, out, show,” the Foromo continued, and I shifted my legs back around me, so she could paint them in the zesty ointment. The shock of being this, exposed, had lacked time for pause to set in. The chef was busy with several tasks at a time, stirring, measuring, massaging and signalling for other tools and utensils. There, was a calm, knowing my worries of my mortal coil were… irrelevant, the focus now, were to ensure I embodied a dish worthy of the gynegeans, and for that… I was in goood hands. 


Once my shell's colour had been siphoned into the pot, the chef poured up a cups of it in a batter, kneading it with one hand whilst the other directed me onto a plate, taking parts of my own shell and laying it out as a spread for me to rest upon. Once making me feel like the bud of a flower. -Slfphght- Another coating of fluids over the fist, this with the carapace reduction incorporated, and then… a hunk of batter clapped over my arm. Then my chest, other arms, the dough patted down and etched with cautious digits, sculpting a simulacrum of my shell, only covering some areas. Moulding rolls of it around the spine of pearls lining my back. My antennae whiskers twitched. “I… I feel.” 
	“Fancy, is it not? And now, just a dash of heat.” the chef proclaimed, hoisting the plate toward a machine, in the shape of a bell above me, and enclosed me within. The murmur of the kitchen, shut off. Distance. In the silence… a whistle, the brew boiling beneath. Tendrils of steam, rising, curling around my form, siphoning through the dough, feeling it puffing up to a lighter pastry, and the layers of gel coagulating to keep them in place. In the swirling mists of warm winds, I felt my heart race, my antennae whiskers curl… I was complete. 


~ 3 ~


The view of the dining hall was different from the short end of the table.. This seat wasn't officially designated for Cion, however it was always where she sat. But, neither her nor that traitor of a sister were present, so, she'd had to sit somewhere. Similar to how she had to fill in for Cion in the summit of the noble houses. 
	“Hey,” Rae called out to a maid, “I bet mom’s gon be real proud of ya when she finds out you've been starving me,” she deliberated, which set the maid off in a hurry. Shame. Least here they took her seriously, the summit looked down on her, everyone, of course. Especially that Ren, always drawing her fingers together along the gems of their stupid hat till they met at her forehead, as if she had all the answers.
	“Pompous ass…” 
	A chef brought in a bowl. 
	“Mother's grace finally,” Raeija mumbled, stirring in the bowl of meteorite soup whilst the table was gradually dressed for a feast. Rae loudly crunched the dried fruits and scraggled nuts of the broth whenever a servant got too close. It was an, unsophisticated dish. Though no one would dare deny it from her, again… She partook of more dishes as they were served, they really were cooking up a storm. Pellucid tartar, five petals salad, she got stuck in particular with Kloabarmk mousse, the savoury foam melting on her tongue and imbuing it the eel species’s citrus undertones. 
	A pair of cloches arrived, half as tall as herself, the other a touch shorter, with a deeper bottom. Judging by the scrambling, this was her awaited main course. 
	“Better be something good..” 
	The first lid was lifted. 
	“MMFwfwg fmpwfhgrhtft-.” Came as soon as the lid was lifted, along with a restrained thrashing.
	Great, a vocal one. She did not have the energy for this. It was a Recluvian, seeped and marinating in a bath of tart acids, it did appear to make the bipedal reptilian’s lower half more mellow and palatable. 
	“Reclu'soma a la ceviche.” the waitress introduced them. They were notably still bonded, nearly raw. Though… a squirmer could liven things up a bit. 
	“Yeah, that's fine, very least it will be interesting leftovers.” Rawija said and waved them off, lifting up a hand of seared xanthous and chomping throughout the tender meat. 
	The other cloche, was silent. After swallowing her mouthful she eyed the waitress. “Think I won't kick your ass for staring?” 
	They swallowed. “The chef had some final preparations to ensure.” 
	Rae scoffed. Soon, but, when you talk of the Foromo, they often appear… are inclined. The chef sauntered to the table, a slim cauldron in her grasp. “Mmm, yeeees, open it…” she hissed with their tendrils rattling. 
	The lid lifted. A cloak of fog plumed out, lingering on the tabletop and pouring from the cloche. Upon a bed of midnight rested a juicy, plush creature with coral skin. Drooping of jam beneath a puffy, pasty-armour to clad their form. Droplets trickling down the extravagant perals lining their back. 
	Rae's antennae stiffened, the club tips bobbing, taking in the full bodied, syrup zest emanating from the creature. 
	“Jusst, sooo.” the chef whispered, and ladled up a scoop of thick, glaze, decanting it over the dish.
	The sprawling web of warmth leaving the meal shuddering, the glaze filling up trenches drawn in the armour, tempering the strong aroma of emanating mists to bring out a tickle of cured yeast. 
	
	Raeija eyed the meal in silence, smacking her lips. “Hmmm. Mmm.” she nodded. And the chef took their leave. That, did look good… Had the chef stared she'd ask what it was, she couldn't quite put their finger on the species. Least they weren't bothersome. She took another chomp of the shank. 
	“Phahtaa, you egotistical sludge grobs.” 
	Rae lowered the shank. The recluvian had chewed through its gag. She didn't notice how the other dish had been following everything, intently following their conversation. “Food's got no business talking,” she curted, and cupped a glass of twilight glory, taking the daintiest sip of her life to punctuate her statement. 
	“I never signed up to be a meal for a spoiled brat.” 
	She focused back on the mousse, stuffing in a spoonful. 
	“Hey, jerk grob,” the recluvian ceviche continued, “I'm talking to you, I'm talking to yo you, you gross gynesease brunt.” 
	Her eyes darted to them for a moment. “If you're gonna blame anyone, blame the one who signed you up as a tribute. Don't see the point in it myself, a morsel cooked and served's got an asteroid's chance in space, too far gone. You are food. You will be eaten. By me.” she underlined the last sentence with the first touch of emotion displayed so far,. 
	“You are sick.” 
	“Yeep,”, Rae said and stood up, reaching to the plate and drawing it in front of her, knocking aside the other plates, “sick? I'm sure sick of enduring this second grade yappering.” 
	“W-wait wait no you don't, you d-fmmdpfht.” 
	Rae stuffed the blunt end of the shank down the recluvian's gob, sat back, cupping her hands around the stout reptile's plump bottom, and with a jaw unhinged and drooling fruity glaze, hoisted the ham into her maw.-Haaammpfglpgg-. Her lips enclosed the cheeks, squeezing into the leather scale, mellowed by the marinade, and the skin tissue below plumped and savoury. The dish was palatable, though putting an end to the complaining was a motivating spice. -Ghrrlggbktu- The first gulp juggled the hind to the back of her throat, lips warping square around the hog-tied morsel. “Mfmnf… Fmmmfp,” she contemplated the flavours, the savoury, but sour tones were melded with the drool and residue on her tongue, forming a pleasant contrast of flavours. It was growing on her. -Gioormpgsh- Another haul, Rae arching her neck back as it inflated with the raw hunk. At a rough fourth of her size it was a significant snack, though nothing she, however… 
	“I'vah hafmafs begger sherrks than houu hen ah whas widdle,” Raeija mumbled around her meal, tipping back in each -Glrhrhsmsp- gulp to wedge the struggling bundle of tissue down her throat. Her gullet engorging under the swells of the meal's struggles. -Ghfllgmfpgh- Stretching out her dress, until it had delved deep enough to submerge beneath her cheeks, sinking towards her gut. 
	“Ahaamfhg, fmsmamggoawha.” -Glglgmobh- She swallowed, lips creeping over the ropes tying his wrist, drawn and enclosing over his arms, pursing to frame their face in her lips, their body reduced to a series of domes warping her skin, trailing down to her gut. 
	“Pl-gWmfmog.gmpghrhwmwmdpghwe-.” the dish mumbled, before Rae's tongue crept up over their chin, and the threshold of flesh sealed like an aperture with a crinkle of smeared saliva. -Shfrllrpths- -Ggghspsgmlh- the bloat in her her cheeks shifting back to her throat, the bulges of wriggling congestion starting to settle down her frame. 
	-Spflpththwothstsjj- then with a hail of grease and saliva, a hand and wrist jabbed out of Raeija's mouth. She watched the limb flail and twitch. Her antennae shaking back and forth, and rolled her eyes. 
	“Mfmmflphwaaaaa,” she parted her lips wide, tethers of drool spanning the roof of her maw to the squirming face tucked away at the start of her gullet, compressed and bunched up by the convulsing flesh of her turquoise throat, reaching out with all they had, gasping and wriggling their face -Sfhrllrpsth- which their struggles merely worming them backwards into further rows of furrowed throat flesh. 
	Rae cocked her head forwards, the motion -Chfrlprshts- gaping her throat to cap the recluvian's face, starting to sink, as she brought her palm to her maw, and scoffed back the arm, closing her mouth over her wrist in a decisive -Ghhhrrugmpgskl-. A visage of the meal's face stencilled down her ballooned neck, trailing down into the engorging abdomen, followed by a handprint pressing firmly from inside her gullet, until it lodged into her engorging abdomen. -Ffhfbglgghs- smsuhing against the table. Raeija's face tempered, as she scooched back with the chair -Flfbrhflpshtst- letting her gut slough forth and adjust to the weight clapping onto her thighs. -Bhuryraaaahharrlp- and vacating an effusion rich in moisture through her trembling lips, disturbing the surface of stews and blowing back the whiskers of the starstruck jyrr. 
	“Phaa…” Rae sighed, patting her gut as it distorted and wobbled in thrashes. “All that complaining for nothing, don't mind the squirms though, easier to tune out when you're busy melting.” 
	The Jyrr panted, cheeks tinted mauve. In mere moments, a whole, living creature, had been tucked away behind that veil of turquoise. Emotions surged. 
	“E-excuse me” 
	Rae chugged down another glass, picking up a spun bundle of candied marrowk wool and munching down. 
	“E-excuse me… m-miss?” the Jyrr tried again. 
	Rae, took another bite. 
	“M-miss Rae?” 
	This eventually got her attention. 
	The jyrr took in a deep breath, then spilled over. “I k-know it is not my place to speak as a mere tribute, but please, Grate Phage, allow me to express my gratitude.” They took in another breath, their pastry jiggling on their chest. “I am grateful for all you have done for my planet, we could never have thrived without your dedication and protection. It is a serendipitous honour to be chosen as a tribute and presented before the princess Grate Phage, saviour of my people…,” She bowed, catching themselves not to ruin the decorations. “I know my body has been prepared, I only wish it was enough to elevate it for your palette, s-seeing the righteous hunger you exhume inspires me yet f-fills me with worry, I am, cannot amount to a full meal. But please, let me express how much you, Grate Phage Rae, matter to me and my people, you are a gorgeous ruler and a wonderful creature.” After this, they had to pause, and catch their breath. 
	Wads of candied wool, toppled past Raeija's lips; stuck with her maw wide open, and… cheeks… warm?
	One eyebrow raised, then the other followed suit.. Watching the Jyrr sit back up, adjusting their doughy clothing. She sat back. Dropping the treat on the table with a -Klnghssf-. 
	“Aah,” she uttered, a few clumps of wool trickling out still. 
	“Di-… did I say something wrong?” 
	Raeija made an expression trying to look at her own face. Then shook her head, clearing off some of the fluster. “Well… strictly… ah… no,” she ground thought the sentence, “But, yeah you, are, just a meal now, and, this, won't stop me from finishing dinner.” 
	The Jyrr gasped. “I-I wouldn't dream of it, please excuse me if I m-made myself unappetizing.” 
	“Mmm…” Rae mumble, “of, course not, I was saving you for last.” 
	“Aaah.” The Jyrr froze. “W-what an honour,” her voice broke into a smile. Then she paused. “D-do other tributes, not, honour you? Great Phage Raeija Vun'Aran? T-they should.” 
	“Mmmmrrr…” Rae groaned, sinking lower into her chair. “What… are you?” 
	“I hail from Magntroph, of the jyrr species, and my name is-… u-uni... R-reconstructed Jyrr, m-my dish n-name.” They corrected. 
	Rae sat into her chair, antennae slackened limp. For a few seconds, simply breathing. 
	She sat up straight. Her antennae perking up a touch. 
	“Yeah, I'm still hungry.” Rae mumbled, and made room in front of her, then pulled the platter closer. 
	Jyrr made a gesture to seal her lips, and then hoisted her four legs up closer to Rae. 
	Rae snatched both up in her fists. 
	The Jyrr winced. 
	Rae's grasp… faltered, for a moment. Then clutched firm, leaning in to thread the sleek, polished feet past her lips. 
	“Fmmghhff…” supple, light, barely more resistance than the candied wool… then the glaze, a crystalline tang, backed up by a distilled twilight glory nectar… a spicy trickle ruffling Rae's tastebuds. -Oogomgpsh- she crammed in their other foot, the skin bending and flesh moulding to the whims of her mouth. -Ahaharmpgsho- Another swallowing still, so supple… "How are you so limp…?” she muttered. 
	“O-ohfmms, s-sorry, w-we are usually shelled, buw-we only have a w-weaker, g-gellant osseous system in our m-main body. That's tw-what the p-pastry's for. I-I think? Stabilising me?”
	Raeija nodded. The legs spooled down her throat, bundling to a soft bulb. -Haaamogmpgsh- Rae's lips plastered against the Jyrr's skin as she rode up the legs, and met with the armouring pastry. -Chrhncsh- the light crunch breaking free in a dash of sea salt, marrying the sweet and spicy flavours. Rae's antennae peaked, and she scooped her palms under the Jyrr's hind, and elevated them. 
	“Mfmfhr… You're really good…” 
	They quivered as they heard this. “-R-really?” 
	“Mmrh…” Rae hesitated, “Yeh… get in my stomach…” she mumbled -Sfhrrlrlpsthths- wrapping her lower lips back around the polished meal's hind, bagging it in the confines of her bloated lips. As she swallowed -Ghrllpghthsts- the flesh and pastry both compressed like foam. Despite the Jyrr matching Rae's size, their bulge was on par with the stouter first course. 
	-Ghrrllgpmgpss- Rae's cheeks swelled over the cheeks, siphoning them to inflate her neck, -flspgthgs- in a sludgy trawl of compacting flesh, it rumbled down the gullet. Rae clutched a hold of the Jyrr. Halting their descent. -Shrrlrpstsh- drawing her tongue over them, inquisitively? Savouring? -Haamfpfghs- then she gaped wider, hauling down another hand length of her dish, inflating a broad dune from her gullet to her abdomen, compressed in the tug of the dress. Dress was the only fancy thing she got, but it was too open, loose, airy… She worked her way up, gnawing, and pruning off the pastry, as the meal burgeoned in droves down her gullet. 
	The jyrr, merely smiled, flustered, shimmying along when Rae struggle to fit in a dune of their blubber. 
	Raeija scootched back from the table, -Fgghrlprghst- her gut sloughing forwards in her lap as he tilted her head back, suckling, swallowing down their chest, then waited, as they tucked their arms down. 
	“Mmfhr…” she mumbled. She Closed her eyes, -afhrlrlpsths- -lpgghggsmps- lapping and guzzling as she downed the Jyrr's neck, lips steamrolling up the sides of their head, crawling along the helmet of pastry squaring their cranium… -Flpgthghs- Then felt the pastry armour jam at her teeth. The rest had been such a breeze, this took the princess's maw for a spin.
	“O-ooh, s-sorry a-about th-that l-let m-me just-.” The jyrr apologised, Raeija brought up thumb and forefingers, clasped them and pinched the Jyrr's cheeks together… -Ghllgmgmobpghs- -Sflfpsghhts- and tucked them in with a guttural, growling gulp. -Gmfpghgsgjsgs- With maw wide open, she felt her throat engulf the crumpled pastry, how the dish sloughed down her billowing gullet, and -Fhffllpbhthhts- stuffed out her abdomen rotund in its bloated, sluggish slough- -Fgphrhgbghs-. 
	“Mmfn pha…” -Bhhuraaarrhsrslp-. Rae was greeted by another dash of the delicate sweetness in the rush of steam pluming through her lips, smacking them as she eased back in the seat, draping her palms over her gut. 
	“Pha… I'm stuffed… that Foromo knows how to cook.” 
	-Gbrhghg-s -gsbghgs-s a growling, bubbling churn came from the gut. 
	“I-i have to agree, s-she they did a wonderful job.” 
	Rae peered down at her gut, watching droves form under the clasp of the dress. 
	“S-sorry, I should shut up.” 
	“Y-yeah… that's fine, there's no change mfm, you are not getting out of my gut now, before tomorrow, whatever my body done's deem fit I'll squat down the drain.” 
	A giggle ruffled the gut. 
	“Mmm.” 
	-Fmfpghg- -sgmpgsh- -fmshaelpes- -mfpsgwhwatatp-” Came a muted, sluggish growl from the bottom of the gut. 
	“O s-still?” 
	“One sec,” Rae responded, heaving up her gut and -flflpwh- -lfpghhhts- smacking it back onto her lap, grinding it down on her thighs and muffling the pleas of the recluvian. “Fmfphg-fspghtw.mgmgfp.” -flpfghhttsg-s 
	“Aah, better.” 
	“V-very, t-the nerve of that jerk,” the jyrr responded.” 
	Rae smiled. 


The rest of the day, the Vun'aran castle laid, quieter than usual. Servants and maids tended to the few tasks there were. Though, all felt a sense of something, missing. The young lady was not hounding them, toying with them, threatening them, joking at their expense. She was… talking. The whole afternoon, whenever a maid stumbled upon Raeija, she was talking to her food. At least… that's how the rumors go. 


~ 4 ~


“Fmnnrarrrkrrr, pffhreeuuu… Snfrfaaaa, phoorfffio…” Raeija huffed and quivered in her deep slumber. Couped up with her engorged bulb of a belly weighing down her mattress. -Chhrlpghghhgss- a churn wrung through the guts… -Ppfbhhhrrffwwrrth- a gust of piping hot gutter air clapped out her cheeks, -Fofoshwo- swelling up the blanket behind her in a dome of putrefaction and condescend fumes, that gradually deflated as she mumbled. 
	“Fmmwfs yeah… allaa you, ffnsaaa, jerks are gonna… see…” -Bhuurgaaarhrwlspop- she mumbled and rumbled and belched in her sleep. -Fprrst- a tiny whisper of gas snuck out her cheeks. -Cghrpghghsgs- Gut sloughing, busily clotting and welding chyme together into sludge, -Shgofwhths- -fslpthts- the humid chomps of the grand feast macerating through the kneads of the guts, packing putrefying fermentation to boil through her intestines. -Pfhrroooopbfbflptsh-. Rae grumbled and shifting in bed, rolling onto her back with the slushing, stuffed gut lagging behind and -Slflpfwbhthts- smushing down on her torsto. The fog petered out her cheeks, rushing to burgeon the blanket around her and -Sflprfht- -Fpsthths- rippling past the rims of the fabric, heating up the bed in the onslaught of smog. “Mmfmps pheehehe…” Raeija chuckled, breathing uneasy for a moment, antennae twitching and bobbing. “Mfmfsg…” before she rolled back, inadvertently drawing the blanket off her hind as she sloughed onto her gut for support.




-Ghrpghthsts- Her frame gently sank into the tortoise clay of belly blubber, with her well endowed hind left mooning the room. -Fbrglprlgs- -Ppfhrbrofofwwrrrrlpthsts - -Fbfbrhrttsts- A bout of rolling gales wafted from the fluttering cheeks, dousing the bedroom air in a potent plume of rising, concentrated yeast, burgeoning throughout the room. Gprhphghghgs- the unleashed flood contracting Rae's gut to a touch more solid clump, working to feed the mulch through to her intestines. 
	Her antennae twitched to the scent. “Mfmwf fsmpwf…” she mumbled, flailing her arms till the duvet draped back over her cheeks.
	-Bhhuraarlarps- -fmmwfp-.
	“Mfmpafha…” the cycle of belching, rolling, and farting nursing her dreams, throughout her rest. 


~ 5 ~


-Ghrbrglgpgs- Pfrrrtthyprt-. 
	“Murrarkggs…” Raeija wailed, arms shuddering and clawing along the blanket. -Slfpghths- sinking into her gut. She kneaded into it. -Flpffhthts- A gale of spiced hot twilight glory percolated through her brim. 
	“Mfhaap…” she growled, her blond locks a tussled mess. “You finally donefmfs, churning to taffy in there…” she mumbled as she sloughed toward her bedside. Sitting up with a yawn caressing past her lips. “Haaaawwwmwnnffbuuhraaaahoolp-.” Which ended in a rowdy flush of guttural exhaust. She shuffled up with a smack to stretched, -Flpblgh- the compacted gut she sported jostling and lugging behind her motions like a sack of slugs. “I'm such a pig for gorging on all those leftovers, I could fund my own sty with the mud couped up in mfm-bghraarusklp- here…” She mumbled, the pressure down her bowels and slumber in her eyes dulling her senses, mouthing the word, “potty…” Then, once lugging herself towards the door, correcting herself: “Bathroom…”


Rae plonked her hind back to encompass the toilet seat beneath. Her angled antennae bulbs fluttered, the slumberdrunk gynegean scootching her thighs to a lazy slough, opening a crevice of light to shine through on the insulation gel at the bottom of the bowl. -Slbnndk- The engorged mound lagging behind the shifts of her thighs, reclining in the valley of meat to block out much of the roof of gut over the ceiling. “Pha, I really porked out yesterday, huh? Where do you think all that excess adipose's gunna-,” -Bhaahuarraaahjrrlrrp- Rae was interrupted by a pluming gale of guttural breath rippling past her slack lips as she scratched behind her antennae, her humid belch glazing the room with brine. She did not proceed with her thought post-interruption, judging by how her hind swallowed up the seat with the sag of its bulk hinted towards where her indulgences landed: a posteriour fit for royalty, though her current seat remained the only throne she'd be inclined to pledge her regal ass to. 
	“Haven't pigged out like this since last Epulose.” Memories surfaced: sitting across the strawberry blonde hair of her sister… The images dispersed with a swat of her gut which sent ripples across the turquoise skin, trailing the thick knolls with her eyes before they sink back in the steamrolled dome of a gut. “I've improved my craft since then. Seems I can add a couple more to the list of species not up to the task of escaping my belly before mah fudge factory pulps them…” Raeija jested letting out another ponderous -Bhuraalp- whilst she massaged and plied her fingers into the clay dense abdomen -Slffrptg- -Chflprshts-. Mulling over yesterday, with sleep still in the corners of her eyes and face, watching her gut gradually -Sfhflst-, feed yesterday's feast through her lower intestines. 
	-Pfbrhhrrt- A puff of vapours drummed up in the partially enclosed ceramic echo chamber. 
	“What's that? I thought I heard somethin'?” Rae scuffed and cupped her left cheek to part her crack. 
	-Bbwwffrrrwrth- came a more robust blare of caustic fumes heating up the seat. “Whoops, my bad, forgot I don't listen to assholes.” -Spplflororhthts- a bank of smog spluttered through Rae's hind, pelting the walls of the toielt bowl in droplets of amber dew and a haze of partially molten scales, garnishing the bulb of sanitization gel. 
	-Sfllprrhthsts- -Glrpghs- a rumble arched down her spine, culminating in a submerged growl -sllfprfhfhshts- with the pit smoothing open around a globule of the same amber grease gellating in the bottom of her digestive tracts. -Sflplfthhts- the grease drooping out with a tail of onyx, thick as a thumb, spooling out through the pucker. Its surface iridescent in the sparse glimpse of light it was afforded, its density teetering on towards fluids as it decanted from the regal tush, – enough granulated scales and cartilage making up its composition to forge it to a tensile sap radiating the bitter undertones of meteorite soup and fermented kloabarmk. -Spffllchhths- The slop coiled up onto the surface of the cleaning gel, swirling into a sleek mound before sinking into the folds, the mulch drooling down and melting apart as it accumulated on the gel, sinking into it with its compositon billowing and sprouting plumes though the gel like ink dropped in water… 
	“Huhfs maybe my gut's handling this all too well, this is barely any challenge,” Rae mumbled whilst grinding her knuckle into her gut. -Flfpsths- hearing a curl of gas wring through her bowels, congesting the flow -Flpfshts- plugging up her hind. “Mfmrf. Fmfms…” She huffed, shimmying her hind back over the seat, whilst the pressure mounted… -Slllphhroroflwpw-- the burst detonated, -Sfllpfthts- lobbing out a dyed spine pearl straight down the bowl, -Fpbrurufffllfpwrrths- the onslaught of marinated gutter fumes bellowed – a shower of the Jyrr's peasrlescent vertebrea fleeing the bowels along with the streams of kelp foam and distilled Recluvian flooding and infesting the air. -Slfprfuhrhthshs- A veil of the liquid midnight slush percolating down from the edges of her rim as the pearls sloughed down through trails of sap and grease to decorate the sanitizing gel. Whilst Raeija leaned her head back, “phha, oh yeah, that one wasmmf, was more like it, that one was grand,” she mused as the bowl took on a paler hue of the midnight and violet mire drooling from her rear. -Fllgphthg- -Flfpfs- Feeling as something of more bulk waded closer… 
	A dripple of the bile trickled along the edge of a Xanthous jammed at Rae's brim. -Ghrbbgs- whilst the rest of her rim shuddered and struggled around a congestion of muted yellowed coral. The bulk clogged up her pucker that stretchered past the girth of her fist and still struggled in accommodating the expanse of plush gruel. 
	“Fmgnn…,” Rae gruffed through teeth clasping her lower lip, fidgeting whilst her pucker contorted to accommodate the bale… 
	“Think I am impressed? I 've passed bigger loads as a youngling, think you are hot fuddge? I'm gonna evict your butt right outta my ass…” She growled. Her brim clutching and suctioning in between stretching. The rugose ring plying and the springy mound doming though the swollen pit… Rae bent forwards with her gut viced between her torso and thighs… -Fpllbrrhtpths- The mound unlatched at its zenith, and with a submerged compacton of mud sprung past the clasp of the cheeks; a plush, smooth coral glob. The slab billowed out with its girth surpassing her palms, with a texture of spongy flan and a density of dough, it sloughed out of Rae's rear chute in a jostling dune. Its surface coagulated thick and solid, broken apart by the occasional vertebrae-pearl unearthed through the surface of the gruel. -Ghbghrlgpghts- Raeija's gut rustled backwards as the Gygynegean reclined against the support of the toilet, mouthing out a long sigh of relief which played out to a whistle at the end. “Smooth as butter, that's what I'm talking about, fmssnf, we're in business, here I thought you were gonna be difficult,” she mused. Whilst the hefty initial onslaught slimmed down to a column of yellowed coral her mind went back to the Jyrr; the sensation reminded her of the jyrr. The thick bale below laid half submerged in the gel, a sinking ship as the loops of fat fondant wound above. Its surface growing more cluttered with deeper trenches as it went along, Rae's pucker was warmed by the radiant heat form the bale, steamrolling)the gruel and getting slobbered in curdled dollops of surface grease. Then and again her brim warped around an outcropping of jyrr bone shell plate plastered or embedded along the sides. The vibrant midnight hue drained to a dull tone. Her abdomen steadily deflating as she unleashed kilos of reduced jyrr putty. A few putters of -Spflflth- -fpfpslths- damp mist bubbling free and clapping her rim against the bale, while Rae combed her fingers through her hair to tame the blonde curls in a moment of serenity. -Slfpfhthts- -Flpsfths- A ruffle of moisture clattering through the hind as lumps formed in around molten sculpts of the gellant bone structure, chewy enough to survive the trip, though malformed in the hind forge - broken up by a sturdy clog, ballooning Raeija's pucker around itself. A shudder of discomfort and tension trickled up her spine and rattled her antennae bulbs. 
	“Phaa,” Rae sighed with a roll of her eyes, “Mmfh sfmsm,” groaning as she ramped up the pressure. -Sfpfhfhprhhts- The pucker gaped wider, peeling back over the robust head of a sturdy recluvian hip joint, the bone was burrowed in the smoother mulch as it thread out the gynegean's rear end, -Sflfpsthhts- -Fhrprprhshtrrfthss- the scrambled surface unleashing a battery of smog through the contorting exhaust pipe, a viscous trawl rumbling through the bowels as the dense, warm grey loam crowded Raeija's brim, the yellowed coral gradually invaded by the murky hue and mucus draped texture.
	“That's more the calibre I'd expect from the junk food part of my grub,” Rae huffed out. The pale and tenebrous hues mixed as the mound crawled free – together growing uniform with islands of their unblemished hues flecking the mound. Amidst the mulch laid scales, slathered chunks of tattered leather skin and malformed jelly bones jutting out around the labyrinth of fissures dressing the mortar sloughing down and stuffing the gel, the bottom bloated in the mess of dyed dungs. 
	-Frllfpshhst- -Ffrrrllpwcths- A cluster of scales broke through the mound, together with a pinch of Rae's pucker dividing the loaf to -Sllfpwrhrpthtstscrllchg- topple back into the bowl. -Ffbrprhrhrptjsts- closely followed by a grand gale of greased, pluming exhaust flushing tatters of airy leather and osseous matter in the drenched bowl. -Fllpfhshts- the gas exchanged interrupted by a globule of dense, raw gray paste brick. -Flfplshthtotstuhth- Which the pucker promptly disgorged, rugose skin welling over it as the disfigured bar of wrist thick waste -Spfpfplrhhtts- dug into that outcropping of softer, mellowed gunk below, sinking with fresh air cut short as it sunk in the pudding mire with a crinkle of drying glue -Sffhrwprlrlotghts-. “Huh, what's that? Can't be much of a flailer you're a heaping of ass dough.” 
	-Pfpfrbrflpfwwths- A flutter of fumes funnelled out through a clog jammed on its side in her pucker, Rae scootching and huffing along with the puffs of -Fpfphrhr- -Pflfshthts- -Fplsffwrrt- smog as her undulating hind worked the wedge out, struggling with a collection of smoothened lumps with only a hint of the smoother putty amidst it. The recluvian was more bone than she remembered, having to struggle and unleash the barrage of boulders formed around protruding molars and fangs jostled out of their pseudo cavities to -Dlssptch- trickle into the mess below, the brim squeezing and sucking down on fangs plastered in the nugget's ridged texture. 
	Rae ground her fist into the side of her gut, jamming the deluge down until she was past the clog. “Get out…” she curted under her breath, annoyed with having to bother with the unseemly congestion they had crafted. 


The stubborn cement gunk wafted of fermentation and salted jerky, its odours distilled into a tonic, the intoxicating malodour leaving her antennae strummed. 
	-Bbfraaharmmpfft- -Ppfhroopprth- The broad belches of flatulence venting, bloated her pucker before before deflating in broad huffs carrying a petrichor stench of rising yeast.
	“Almost smells like one of mom's,” she muttered. 


~ 6 ~


“Mfmnfs, oaawwh yea mfsyes,” Rae mumbled, the strain catching up to her while unleashing craggled loaves of burnished ochre, broad, phlegm filled fractures segmenting the mound piling free -Dflrpthhghts- and dispersing into a hail of muddy globules halfway down the bowl in a mélange of semi-sloppily, processed fudge globs, -Fppbrrhhts- bubbling through with the same ease as the swirling breezes of briny claustrophobic humidity … 
	“Get your fat ass sludge out my ass…” she cooed the droves coiling and slathering over the mound, building up on the gel, sinking faster the more mulch Raeija added to the sludge hill. -Shffplrth- -Fpfbwrhpths- and with a crinkling snag of the pucker, Raeija's hind tied off the last clog of bowel cement, letting the silt -sflfpths- clollapse with the other semi-solids swallowed up by the incubation gel below -Sfhrlrpgflpfsths-. 
	“Pha, phaa what a load off,” she mumbled and hiked up her hands as she eased her way up from the seat, “feel so much lighter, almost forgot how much dung live-meals make, can't have that,” she mumbled. If she was gonna be the queen of the castle, she was going to eat like one. She peered back and washed off her face, took a few moments to experience the bathroom's atmosphere, dense and reeking of the inside of a jar of mouldy, pickled licorice, before parting open the doors to air out the funk and clear her lungs. 
	A maid walking past to wish her a good morning, and notably not mention how the miss was stark naked in the hall. 
	Raeija smacked her lips, awake, energised, though she had been through a bit of an ordeal, she could use a break. The gynegean leaned down and reeled up, strapped back into the underwear hanging around one ankle, shimmying it into place. Her hands stopped at her abdomen, a bulge of blubber still remaining, plush, soft. She huffed before heading off back to her suite, to get dressed for the day.