Offroad Indigestion
Offroad Part 3


Written by Septia.


“Ghhru. Ahh. Sfnnfs pgrha…” Ulla coughed up sputtering breaths between whimpers. -Chhrlgpghaha- The gut wall shifted with a crackle of slime… The gullet growled in a tremor to drown out her surroundings, trapping her in the drone of the chamber. “Mphfhafnghs aa awkkahh…” she wailed, crying louder as if to challenge the gurgles; she could barely hear her own gasps… She pressed her hands to the stomach lining, -Shfffllrpsah it bent, though contracted soon after. The texture reminded her of a trampoline; the whole stomach did. The fabric of the gut bent to her motions and force, yet just like laying in a trampoline there was an unmissable pressure behind it. A reminder, that the moment you weren't present — the moment you stopped fighting back — the walls would contract, and snap flat. Her presence was acknowledged, tolerated, but not wanted, this hostility seeped into her from each side of the gut, no place accepting of her form, all pushing back, all. The whole atmosphere, hostile and humid, straining her breaths with moisture, it was as if the air was putting a choke-hold on her lungs. The stomach 'tolerated' her, just barely, and only because it was pertained to, it would not need to for long. 
	“Emfs ah haa…” She huffed, sniffling, pressing her palms into the gut, matte prints of her palms sinking into the fleshy polymer, “Pl-please, Help… p-please, I-I don't wanna die,” she wheezed. -Thhgbgsla- The gut contracted, rustling at a force that slammed into it. Ulla was knocked around the bean pod of a gut. Trapped in a pod that of darkness. 
	“P-please…” she huffed. -Chghr- -Chrhsa- A compressing rattle of meat. -Chhrrslpats- the wall concaved. “Please, pleasepaelse please,” Ulla squealed. Fidgeting, and feeling everything pressing into her. The walls closed it, but from the sinew protruded peaks; spouts of erected, shifting meat in angular cones prodding in towards her, grinding into her body… “Gnnhg. Gn-hga…” She stammered, as all around her the blunt thorns had her pinned: the spikes of an iron maiden. She clutched the badger with one arm, keeping it secure in her lap as it struggled. Bite marks were left on her thumb and wrist, but this way it wasn't actively sinking its claws through her. The spouts pinned the critter to her gut, she felt its struggles, flails of its limbs towards the spouts, only for them to bob and harden against it. -Ghhrbrsh- A contract rustled through a spine at her shoulder… -Sppfroooottlpts- the rumble ramping up, rubbing the peak into her shirt. Raw humidity barrelled through the nozzle, a stream of smog shrouding her shoulder in a veil of gelatinous mists. 
	“Ggaygaa,” she struggled, battering away withers in her arms and scrambling in the gut. The spouts lining the wall constricting and engorged to secure their hold against her, despite her thrashing. -Chhrflflsalsh- And a sizzling spread from the point of impact. The badger lodged free in her struggles, scrambling around her to -Slpfsthtaha- get sandwiched at her back… Halting Ulla's flails as she felt her weight piling onto the badger. Two peas in a pod, a bridge between species they had been unable to form with the aliens.
	“Gng-ghaah. Aah sh. What the hell a-are you…” she wheezed, and stared. The smog emitted a faint luminescence: a white ghost in a yellowed photograph — offering just enough light, to illuminate her shoulder, and the splotch mark it imprinted on her. Its humidity injected through her clothing, down to her flesh, the mark consistently sculpted over shirt and bare skin alike, making her a completed painting someone spilled watercolor over, as if he she and her clothing were one single entirety. Brief moments before the light faded, it looked like the welt moved… The pain only struck her when it became visible. This moisture punctured through her tissue, the dousing sweltering, rending through her muscles. “M-may arm shww-what did you do to my ar-.” 
	-Chrgls- -Chrltsh- -Hhrlglsa- The rumbles, the brewing, the rustling of the other nozzles, poised and pressured against her skin. Ulla's breath ceased. 
	“Please, no, no…you can't.” 
	-Flpfsghht-Flpgshthsa- They vibrated against her. 
	“Oh no, nono please no let me ou-.” 
	-Phhfhoooofmfmpfsths- -Ppvpfhhofhoths- -Pttwwwllpsh- The wet fumes bombarded her. Spout after spout unleashing a salvo of fog so dense it came with all the expectations of how the texture of a cloud would feel like to walk on, were it also boiling. 
	Each time she stretched a reflex triggered to distance her body from the pain, the nozzles compressing and accommodating her, fuelling the futility of her actions. The smog soaked into her, illustrating in biological muzzle flashes how the welts blossomed onto her, as a darned overlay to her body. A numbing, breaching ache rampaged throughout the marks, sinking through clothes, skin, flesh, prickling her bones. -Bbfhrglsabbrp- Then, it started to boil. Ulla's flesh was sizzling under her skin, venting through bubbles in the gaps of welt and unspoiled body, forming craters over her skin to mark the limits of the welts –which remained puttering even as the borders were subsumed. -Sfllpsghthabsha- The broiling gained body, she watched as vermilion trickled from the pronounced crater vents, a congealed slurry drooling out of her and pooling at beneath her. 
	“What's haapfnaa haapepsn gahaa sttop, ha-heewlp,” she cried, striking the surrounding walls. -Gllspghhc- Right then, she felt a spout piercing through her shoulder, the welt, morphing to a deeper hue, -Chrlrpgs- -Cflrprsathsa- and she could hear the flesh, melting free… Only then she realised… the badger had stopped moving.  


~ 1 ~


-Bhraaursp- Raeija neglected to cover her mouth. 
	“Would my darling carry such a jovial tune if she wasn't enjoying herself on our little excursion?” Cion said, in the 'bed' next to her daughter. 
	“Raeija sighed and hoisted her upper body from the sheets with her palms. -Sblpghtsa- Her gut sloughing forwards into her lap like a sack of pudding. “Honestly, mother, wish I wasn't couped up on some fringe off limits planet.” 
	“Even with our,” -Bllgpthhsa- the bulge of a limb sprung up on Cion's gut, sinking back with a wave of jiggles rousing through her naked gut, “exclusive course?” 
	-Thtrsmmgpsa- Raeija slammed her into her gut. 
	“Fwmfpwghgsa, fmwfghrmgm amps,” faint cries flushed through the muffled layers of her stomach. 
	Raeija ground her knuckle down to her gut, milling the churning contents. “Didn't say that, wouldn't have left without this pest wasting away to gunk in my guts,” she said, turning her head with each word until she exclusively addressed her squirming midsection. Cion sighed, “So, something good did come out of it, hmm, darling?” 
	Raeija sighed through the side of her maw. 
	-Bfhghr- -fskgsah- Cion peered to her gut as gurgles craned through her. “I found them quite intriguing, perhaps not the most refined flavors, though for a wild catch…” Cion begun. -Pfprwt- A flutter of flatulence disturbed the covers. She peered to her daughter, who spied back on her. Cion's lips welded in a smile. “Aohf…” she huffed, keeping her breath as her antenna fluttered. -Gbrhhghsga- -bghrhghsa- Growls and commotions roused through her frame, funnelling in a broil down her abdomen until… -Bbbrrwphfoofppwths- it translated to a bout of amber fog surging through her hind. Cion biting down on her lip, delighting in the relief of the typhoon she unleashed from her rear, the blanket fluttering up and wavering to a flag beneath the pressure off the exchange of air pressure, the cabin room soaking in the long horn of unabeted feminine must. A burnished almond scent remanding form her past meals, though now tinted with a fresh tang of tartar. 
	For a few moments Raeija stewed. Eyeing Cion who was laying back, proud of herself. Raeija's eyebrows lowered, lips pouting. She rose, stepped to the end of the bed, and wrapped the surrounding covers. 
	“Rhngnnrrgg…” she wheezed. The grunts in her breath corresponding to a percolating series of -Chhrpgllgpsgaha- muddled displacements through her frame, brow pinching in effort and teeth gritted…  -Bbfbrprprorofowwwppprrbrbbootwph- The cyclone of exhaust inflated the blanket behind her, the rush of steam hugging along the stretch of fabric, ballooning it till it all rose to match the height of her crouched hind – resembling an elongated tail of the lower body of a centroduc. Until the blanket could hold no more… -Bpfooofofpsamp- and in a huff of pressure the ends of the cloth fanned up, unleashing the baking guttural breath in the room in a sweeping swathe of smog, rattling portraits to hang ajar and flooding through the brunt of the flow passing by Cion, lifting the strands of her platinum hair and fluttering through the fawning antennae. Even as the curls of umber miasma fanned past her, the fuzzy sprouts crowning her head jittered. “It appears I have been bested, by my own spawn, no less.” 
	Raeija puffed, brushing over her forehead. “Guess the apple doesn't fall far form the stink factory.”
	“Guess you get my ass fuming as well,” -Swmwtch- Raeija said with a smack at her gut, slumping down onto it to the sound of a -Crrrllkrctsshllp- humid crunch, pancaking the bottom of the gut to the bed. 
	-Cppfbrbth- Cion let a smile tease at the joy in her lips as she let a few huffs through her chimney, the room's temperature ramping under their combined gas. “All that, and my darling has stuck to one proper meal, would you not say that paints you as quite capable, right, darling?” 
	This stifled the air somewhat. “Yeah,” Raeija said, standing up with the blanket flowing down her back like a mantle, “I guess I do.” -Cflpstah- she let it drop, the mandle draping off of her naked form, slumping into a pile beneath her. 
	Cion sucked the side of her lip, letting off a sigh. -Glrhrbghsalgpsa- A hand reaching down to cradle and clam her processing midsection. “Reija Vun'Aran, I would like to speak with you.” 
	Raeija peered back instinctively at hearing her full name, only for her head to recoil and shift elsewhere. She slumped back in bed -slbbglpwnasn- -clwlpthtsp- gut hoisting up and clapping into her lap. “Whatever.” 
	Cion reached out, but hesitated. “Darling, I do mean what I say, you are growing up to become quite a capable woman.” 
	“Right, got little choice, don’t I? Enough of those airheaded, pompous jerks chattering away at my ears and I'm gonna pick up on stuff, its the law of osmosis, Lady Vun'Aran.” 
	Cion looked towards her lap. 
	“If this Is what this whole road trip garbage was about then just say it, so we can get over it, and scoot our butts back to Ggynege-.” 
	-Thmp- Cion's palm met Rae's back, firm in posture, but soft in her rasp. “Rae, matters are not so black and white.” 
	Rae remained calm, listening. 
	“Certainly, your sister has, potentially, thrown a wrench in my machinations. Though, I do believe in her, she will come to her senses, she can carry my mantle well.” 
	“Yeah,” Raei said, “sucks.” 
	“Even so, I consider the consequences. And if she cannot…” 
	“I know you want me to.” 
	Cion brushed down her back, closing her eyes. “You are brash, strict, and decisive. All qualities that could hone to be, a brilliant leader, were that your wish.” 
	Rae peered back to her mother. 
	“Oh yes, I see it quite clearly, you would be, a different ruler than your sister would, but neither of you would be like me. Once the time comes, I shan't force you into my seat, merely, leave it vacant. If neither of my daughters picks up my mantle, I entrust you to select a successor.” 
	The two stared out through the paneless-window, past the shadowed treetops into the star filled sky. 
	“Mom.” 
	“Yea, darling?” 
	“You had Trix before me, she was a promising leader and stuff.” 
	“Mmhmm.” 
	“So, why'd you go on to squat out me?”


~ 2 ~


“Ahw h-heck, oh no, oh balls.” Milo wailed, the corrosive spouts jabbing into his back to plough him into the gruel brewing in the alien guts -Shhgprpljjllpsh-. -Chhrslala- The crunch of calcium softened by enzymes, a cold chill spiking through his body as he tried to repress the knowledge that he was wading through Buck's bones. -Sghsgoahghsa- He sunk deeper -Slpgshta- A  spout jabbed through his leg with a crinkle of boreing through clay -Schrlrlpstha-. The ache burrowed through his veins, searing his nerves, his calves were rotten to the core when a chunk of them -Sclslpgha- sloped into the mire surrounding him. “Gnrahg aghas ahwhaaghhag…lghsa…” Milo's huffing, panting shrieks stifled when he couldn't bring his jaw back up. He stared in the sparse flashes of luminance, seeing the welt crawling over his chin, drooping off in thin tatters like a torn sail, a splutter of surface boils coated his face in sizzling slobber. A dash of scarlet emerging in the brewing pot of grating flesh around him. 
	“Ulla, Ulla, heheeelff,” he wheezed through a torn, molten jaw, his skin carbonized, and his meal pulsating as is soughed out of his body. -Shfrllrpsth- -gngnh- -Sgllglfrtl- -Glfmgmsng- The charring vents of the walls sunk into the mire, inhaling globs of the still squirming native’s fat and tissue pumping through the gynegean anatomy, to ensure every piece was broken down. 


~ 3 ~


“Then, why did you have me?” 
	-Glbhrbbhgs- -Crslgpthhsa- -Glppgthsh- Fumes displaced through Cion's gut -Flsltpsha- the whole lump sagging inwards, flattened under her pats. “You've grown matured by now I expect it shan't be long before you understand.” 
	“Before I get myself knocked up, you mean.” 
	“Mayhaps.” 
	“Mom. What was dad like?” 
	Cion sighed. “I have told you enough, he was, scrumptious.” 
	“Just like all your other grub.” 
	“He was different.” 
	“How so?” 
	“Oh, he had an air about him, or, at least my eyes painted him that way. He was quite the willing morsel, I even told him about you.” 
	“Huh?” 
	“Well, as much as I knew of you. I told him, what I saw in him, the future we could have, I saw… you, in him.” 
	Rae peered over to her stomach. 
	“He hit me in a place no other had, even Trix's fath-. Everyone is unique. We could talk for hours, long into the night.” 
	“Then ya melted em.” 
	“As all meals are destined,” -Flprprstha- she flaunted a jet of fumes out her cheeks as she shuffled her legs, “And out of his fertile soil, you grew, darling.” 
	“Hm…” Rae hummed, “Do you always know?” 
	“I didn't with Trix. I did feel something -- though at the time, it might have simply been gas.” 
	-Gbbrlgpsa- Raeija kneaded into the sides of her gut, watching the rippling surface collapse inwards in stretching -Grhhrbhghsa- groans. “Just gas, yeah,” she mumbled, eyelids flickering. 
	Cion rested her daughter back in the bend, laying down to rest beside her -glblprsha- as their chugging guts gently rocked the beds. 


-Bgbrlpgshas- -Sflpsghhtahs- lonesome bubbles popped at the surface, the constrained gut capitulated so the ceiling hung but a finger above the top of the gruel. -Sglptlghs- -Chggpshags- The nozzles piped the still slurry of blackened fabrics, tattered fur, and rich veins of crimson. The stomach shrinking as its occupant cargo offered less, and less resistance. 


~ 4 ~


-Grllwpwwrlrlph- “Haawwmnfs…” Rae huffed out in awe as her head arched down in view of her abdomen, rumbling with a light -Chrlfa- of mulch shifting through her body. Memories of yesterday surfaced, and the fact she now had them 'in the bag' brought a grin to her face. 
	“Good morning, sweetie.” 
	Rae arched her head back, seeing Cion smiling down on her. Noticing she had huddled up while sleeping in her mother's embrace. 
	“Ma-”
	“Please, do not let me wake you. You seemed quite peaceful, resting with your mother again, were you not?” 
	“Oh, yeah, sure. I loved it,” Raeija said and hoisted herself up by her arms, “Cuz I'm still a youngling who still gotta sleep with their ma,” she said, biting each word. 
	“Might as well, and sweetie, I am well aware of that. Oomph…” Cion's calm demeanor twitched. -Chhrgbrlglsa- her beanbag of a gut -schsclspth- clenched together in a jostle, bobbing the mattress beneath. 
	Raeija's antenna peaked up. “Ma, that sounded, urgent. What, those natives went right through you?” 
	-Fpprrhh- -Chrlslta- a foul huff of fumes from Cion's hind clotted to a moist, plugged squelch. 
	“Oh stars, they did…,” Raeija mumbled. 
	“Could go in the woods on the way to the ship?” 
	Cion's lip wriggled. 
	“The daughter rolled her eyes, “Or we'll find something for miss queen fancy ass and her fart factory.” 


	“These…?” Raeija asked, standing in front of a row of three linked buildings outside the cabin. One barely wide enough for her mother's ass. 
	“I believe so.” 
	“These are toilets?” Raeija continued, and opened the center door. “Anyhow come, there are even walls between them.” 
	“As ambassadors -- illicit ones non-withstanding -- do take into account the foreign nature. It appears their bathrooms are a segmented affair,” she paused and opened the far left stall, “It does make the matter rather impersonal.” 
	“Suppose it, looks a bit like a toilet,” Raeija said as she stared at the hunk of marble in the stall. 
	Cion tip-toed up next to her, clutching her stomach as it gave of low -Gbbrglglslaa- growls. 
	She scrutinized the construction, opening the lid and peering down. “Appears so, it appears to fill the function of a lavatory. More advanced than a hole in the round, undoubtedly, though it appears to make use of a liquid based system to propel the waste. 
	-Grhbgbsa- Raeija's gut grumbled against her lap. “That's supposed to handle all of this jerk?” 
	“Oh stars, no,” Cion said with a chuckle and promptly turned on a dime, shoving herself hind first into the stall to plant her bare ass down, her lime buttocks spilling over and swallowing the seat. “But I'll take my chances with this over the bushes,” she huffed out. -Csllptughthaha- She leaned back, her wide gut clogged through the stall, the billowing gut flab wedged out over the threshold like bread billowing over its mold, further pinned by how the stalls were unequipped for the  gynegean composition. “Mfnhhnngyyng…” Cion huffed through clasped teeth, folding her arms to her knees and leaning forwards as the -Brbrpfflsotahha- guttural chime coursed through her frame. “Hhmnyyfnnf…” Her eyes rolling up and then in the brief transition  where her continence melted into pleasure… -Bbrbwofowroomppfprprffmpwth- a storm of vapours escaped her rear hatch, blanketing the stall in clouds of ethereal orange miasma, -Chhrnc- the force shifting the backrest of the toilet. -Clflpthsp- and kicking the lid back to -Smmptsh- spank her hind. 	“Mfpg gwmpgahoa…” Cion huffed out in a startled moan. “Perhaps I have to afford the native some more props on their features,” she mused. -Ffprprhstbfltwhp- The flutter of smog was plugged by the onslaught awaiting in her bowels.  With a crawl and grumbling wriggle of a platoon of slugs -Cjjrllfslghrlsprshgs- Coin's pucker pushing into her cheeks as the bar cleaved her buns apart. -Sghphga- -Clgpsha- With the stability of pulped paper the clog wedged through the green hind, a film of bowel fluids trickling over the expanse of ivory and picking up pigments along this path, trickling down a slurry of white speckled gunk that landed in the water below and spread like stars in the night…
	“Pphooo, what an, exquisite opportunity, fmms, to partake of the natives of Sul4's culture and traditions.” 
	Raeija scoffed, “Shame about the reception you're givin em, and that's even if it survives your ass. If this was some cultural garbage, I wouldn't want your butt all over it.” 
	“Are fmsm you certain about that, darliinggnsfmmmfopho…” Cion huffed and strained a faimt -Frrwwrt- Fanned out in the brief interspace between pucker and pale bulwark. 
	From afar the lump extruding out Cion's cheeks looked like a glossy slab of chalk, closing in one would see the surface shift and stretch as it unfurled from her nethers, barely holding its composition together. -Shshpthha- -gpstja- a dimple at her pucker wedged up in an arch over a solid hunk of alabaster, a poised pearl epiphysis of a humerus, partially submerged, the rest of the bone buried in the ivory bulk as if taking sand bath. 
	-Fslpttha- Another putter, a disarray of lumps trickled Cion's hind. -Sflprrrpsthsha- Sheltered patterns of burnished orange and stale crimson begun to bleed into the length of the mound, its swirls and gradients a stark contrast to the uniform white of the slab dipping down towards the water below. “Fmpspg Spahn… how much internal structure can such a supple stake-sack afford to pack in?” Cion huffed whilst circling down her gut in rubs of her elbow, the gut drawing back into the stall at a snail’s pace -slfpfsahta- “The circumstances be what they may, but I do hope we can part amicably.” 
	-Bbwpbgs- Raeija planted her palm to her mother's gut, -Clslpthhsa- her digits sinking down the dune of blubber welling up between her digits. “Tryina’ talk sense into your ass, don't be surprised about its response.” 
	“Mgnfsff,” Cion huffed out and arched hear head back. -Slfpfahtha- -lspfstha-
	The fractals of colour through the mire were sprawling across the texture of the mound as it sloughed out, knobs and outcroppings of indigestibles breaking up its surface. Until, -Ckrkpglphthta- the mire ahead spooled out as a constricted, broken back snake of sauteed tangerine and peach, a glistening, scintillant clutter of slender chunks bundled to a greasy chain in the punching bag of a dump up her colon. The white mulch dropped into the water -Sclsptah- smothering the liquid as the weight bore down, jamming the whole hog of pastel, muddy silt down the drainage of the bowl, congesting the pipes and forming a hill at the bottom which the loose, glossy avalanche of warm hued melange toppled into, falling atop and folding over itself so the pressure -Slflprthths- sprouted up tendrils of splash-marks up the bowl, careening to a pattern of fluid tentacles splattering right back over Cion's hind. 
	“Whoaa.” The gynegean was spooked to straighten up her back and quiver as the limp onslaught of jelly vacated her bowels to soak the bottom of the bowl, displacing and replacing the water and rising far above it its former surface. “Fmpshhs ho… My, my, been a while since that happened. Perhaps I was too quick to give them credit,” she huffed as her pucker pinched taut so but a thin beam of goo trailed from the rugulose brim, -Fllprshta- -Frlwprls- along with little splutters of soggy bog breath. “They certainly aren't, fit for using together.” Cion noted. 
	“Was ‘fraid of that, “You'll be fine. You've already seen through the consequences ahead of time, right?” 
	Cion huffed as she nestled back in the stall -slflptahta- her gut slim enough to come along, as she leaned back and let -fbbrbprghs- echo in the bowl, its pitch gradually rising to reflect the space at her disposal, “My clever darling.” 
	Raeija sauntered up to the stall next to the one occupied by her mother, and planted her turquoise hind down on the seat -Dpltddf-. She wiggled in place, assessing the comfort. “It'll do, Hfmfmfnn,” -Fllpfrhrhtptsha- she said as a flutter of vapors trickled out of her hind, reaching back and wrapping her fingers over her rear to pry her cheeks far apart, wiggling them over the throne. “Stale, uncomfortable, and a pain in my ass,” she continued, biting her lips with her antenna rattling to a ripple. -Cllfprhhts- -Cllfprhhgbbrglsla- The heaves of fumes melded into a slimy strain as a blackened sludge boiled and burgeoned at her hind, puttering forth and frowning like a moss fuelled by the fumes trapped in the mire as an array of clustered bubble foam. “Right where you belong,” she huffed out with a slap to her gut, exuding with pride at her catch, no… her dominance. -Fbrlfbrbpwfsbfpsa- “Oowfhfsmmm fmmwrf,” Raeija huffed out and strained herself as a burbling grew at her rear, forcing out the fumes and sludge to slough and boil up as a liquid moss. -Fbbbfffmns- Soon the cluster of bubbles in the gutters melded, merged and expanded. 
	“Do you need a hand, dear?” Cion asked between huffs in the other stall, unloading chunks of fatty globes which went tumbling onto the skeletal mass and melting down into them in clots of wax. 
	“Mfmwpaf rgiht, yeah I need a hand,” Raeija huffed out as she wriggled on the seat, -Flfpsrhhrha- the mass at her rear stretching, chugging wider, inflating to a dome as wide as her thighs and clad in liquid, iridescent patterns like an auburn oil-spill. 
	“Ifmfns, just need a  hand shoved up your own ass so you can sort out the mess in yrhf yrhoou…” she huffed as her tease flowed into a puckered coo. Beneath her the expanse of black inflated to a slushish globe, pit sides pressing up the edges of the bowl until… 
	“Mmfmwagaaa.” 
	-Kkrllrptttclshtahtha- -Clpsthaj- The balloon of bloated black bowel tar burst, splattering into a lazy dough of ink blanketing the expanse of the porcelain beneath her. A puff of blemished fuzz, crumbling like ash was left in place where the bubble had been, strains of hair and hide both fluttering down over the bowl in a hail of confetti. “Oof, osho. Hoo yeah, eat it, that feels, sss-oo rad…” Raeija whistled, grinding and gyrating her ass back over the seat in victory. “Memphis” -flprththa- A thin flute of fermentation vented into the bowl as her brim -crlflprahhs- caked open and moulded over a serpent of mangled, blemished pink sludge, drooling out through the ink-blotched pucker to furl and coil in the congealed net of charcoal slop lining the toilet. -Clprhththa- -cLrlpsthhsa- the mire melding and dipping into the gunk below as it forged a sloughing path of melting almond and fuchsia fudge, -Clslprthat- gummed up bubbles from the foam at her rear tugging along the rope of mulch to carve a pattern of blackened, looping fractures over the pastel manure. “Oooh baby, did my sore butt need your hard booty plunder.” 
	“Always averring a smile to a mother’s face to hear her girl so fms relieved.” 
	“Mom, shut, your face, you're smiling cus you're constipated on taboo meat.” 
	“Guilty, butmfms, but here I thought it was you commending your own ass.” 
	“Phehfe…” Raija snickered, as he felt a -glrrbbsgasgaa- series of growls percolating through her frame, arching her head back in a satisfied drone -Pfprbbrwpfpfplslatha- -Clrsptpth- as her pucker disgorged a salvo of smoothing, reverberating smog and wedging shards of putty out of her ass. Steam rose through a pair of clogged eye sockets in a cranium prying its way free from the pucker, embedded in the contorted globules of ass clay with its jawline frozen wide open. Embedded in the pale terracotta clump warped between its teeth, jutted out a second, slender, pointed skull. -Clslpthghaha- -Krlspghahta- The crunch of soggy calcium buried into the wall of oily loam lining the bowl, the mementos of the exotic meal -Flspghht- -Krlslphtch- buried beneath the bulk of Raeija's vacation waste. 
	-Fbbbwrpfplfsmtah- -Fbbrprsht- Raeija pinched out a rank tailwind, swirling in the clotted bowl beneath. 
	“Was that a whimper of a sickly critter?” Cion teased from the stall next to her. 
	Raija scoffed, “Yrhm... fmfmagm, I crammed another of those fuzzy things up my ass cus I wasn't constipated enough already, I can't discharge a thunderstorm out of my ass on command like you, you could have easily spared me some more of that powerplant of a bladder you got.” 
	A faint groan echoed out before -BBfrrwprprhhtsa- A rumble sent a quiver through the wooden structure, Cion 's rear gaping over hunks of masticated granite dung; a sturdy slab packed taut with a spatter of condensed oils worming down the muck's intricate lattice pattern of texture, the broad gaps between them letting the tone carry and reverberate form the cusp below. 
	“Wohowoa, Ma, stars, you were holding out just to humiliate me, huh?” Raeija said and turned towards her. Only to be stared back by a row of beige planks. “Huh…” she mumbled. 
	“Shame, you would have heard it better from this side,” Cion mumbled. 
	“Yeah, bet,” Raeija responded. Then she perked up, “But I can smell that stink bomb form here.” 
	“Oh, and it is weak. I assure you the wall blocks a fair amount of pungency as well.” 
	“Excuses, just mgsmm fpsjhthtsa…” Raeija huffed out, gripping the brim of the toilet. Even with the doors wide open it was, somewhat claustrophobic doing a group activity so close but, alone -Wmfnghhrhhgs-. She grasped the rim of the seat, gut retracting with a crawling -Chhrrlpgsh-. Displacements of clay, -Fllfpsth- -fsöpsthtabt- a thick dollop of a fat loaf of hair speckled marmalade mulch vacated Raeija's bowels -söcpsthhaa- caking the slop beneath as it bade way for a roaming thunder coursing through her bowels. -Cbfbwrproootwwowooffllfpstbahta- The seventeen second long onslaught oscillated the ceramic foundation beneath her, with no shock absorbers installed she felt the full brunt of the vibrations up through her hind as the tornado of brine-pickled asphalt and its meaty undertones enveloped the stall and rose from the exits of the building in broad smokestacks. “Phooe, there's my girl, A hind which truly leavse no quarter,” Cion encouraged in between huffs from her end, Raeija could hear those feather antennae vibrating in resonance. Her own bulbs twitching from the marsh breath she unleashed below. “Ain't doing mfms it to make ya proud, ma. But, thanks.” 


“Phhaha, oh yah, knew it was worth it to get that premium junk treatment at the spa. My ass feels so smooth, it feels like I could chug out a whole loboid. Mmfn spho.” -Frsslpththgbtha- a splutter of gunk rippled out of Cion's stall as she worked her way over the congestion of fermented natives. “I believe I stood for your expenses, darling,” she said with a sly round arch to her sentence. 
	“Mmms phaa, thanks, mom, for mfms, spoiling me with a wicked, sick dump… fmwmpfsha.” -Fpprbroofppflptotsh- The blubbering spout of flatulence rocked the bowl beneath Raeija's rear, the ceramic vibrating to a falsetto. 
	Cion smirked as her cobblestone patterned loaf scooched out of her ass and slogged up to caress the bottom of her cheeks, leaving the woman to stand as she unloaded the remaining -fllspthgha- -Cllpghhtahs- cargo of cluttered beige cement over the toilet seat. -Sflpfhthathghsa- “Anytime, darling.”


~ 5 ~


Cion stared at the receptacle. Steam rose around it, the mound breaching the surface, over the seat, and forming a ledge the lid rested upon like a ramp. 
	Raeija moved in and pushed down on top of the lid. 
	-Cllpwththhga- -Clspghtha- -Krllspght- a few shoves only made the toilet masticate the variegated manure -Flprtha- The last one even bending the frail polymer over the steaming refuse melting into its bonds. 
	“You broke em.” 
	“We certainly did.” 


-Sbblpghsa- The seat burbled. They turned in unison. -Fllprbghsa- -brharlgpgahsha- The rumble rolled up through the sewers below, up the drain and -Fbbrwlapfthsa- welled forth in the bowl, mulch displaced from weight conflicts blossomed forth in a bouquet of colorful dung, knocking the lid back and -lfsbprhtsh- -chrhprshtsa-s- drooling in doughy dunes over the edge in a halo of pale and tangerine sludge. 
	Cion scratched her chin. “Do you think it is… supposed to do that?” 
	“Some whack toilets if so… Look, ma, as interesting as it is to figure out how these natives do their, weird, segregated business, if we don't get outta here, we'll be up to our knee necks in it.” 
	“Astute, daughter dearest,” Cion said and flicked a setting on her collar, materialising her suit, following Raeija's example. 
	“Oh now you get dressed,” Raeija snickered and waltzed off. Cion merely smiling before tagging along.


“Phheeewooow…” Raeija sighed and sloughed back in the seat, so her rear hung past the edges. 
	“Tuckered out from our little venture?” 
	Raeija eyed her mother. 
	“I will admit, it is comforting to leave it behind us, though it certainly was quite the experience. How about we steer to some more adventure, within the accepted spheres.” 
	“Yeah, I'm up for something where I'm not scared for my… liii…fe.” Raeija stumbled in her sentence. 
	Cion had seen it as well: a probe, plasmatic-fluid based hovering closer to their ship. They remained in the bounds of the Sul system. 
	She halted their ship. The probe following suit. -Fffrrllsscht- Expanding to a wide screen covering the cockpit's exterior. Lines in languages manifested across the prode, and a telnomic message beamed into their heads. 
	“Pertinent information: your coordinates coincide with a limited system, containing a level four restricted planetoid. Polite action: state your business.” 
	Raeija twitched. 
	Cion took a deep breath. 
	“Ma's got herself turned around while steering. We just realised where we were, on our way to get our butts outta here before we make a scene, right ma?” 
	“My sincerest apologies for my-... our near transgression,” Cion added. 
	The probe screen blanketed. A humming resonance through the reinforced walls. More signals appeared. 
	“Polite understanding: message received. Polite information: you may proceed.” The probe retracted, shrunk, and soared away. 
	Raeija let out a long, shaking sigh. “Actually, ma, mind if we head somewhere there's, zero chance, for trouble, for our next stop?” 
	“Certainly.” 


~ 7 ~


The rush of bulldozed dirt and revolving chains surged through the empty woods. A biker went off course from the main road, petering down as it approached the cabin. The biker veered towards the stalls as their attention honed in. Wheels ground to a halt in front of the outdoor lavatories. 
	“Ah… ohh balls… oh mudslide what's… that,” the biker shuddered. Pinching their nose as the smell hit, simmering anchovies and wet fur fried in lard. -Sflpsthfrtg- A clump of the discolored tar sloughed off the sea, baking in the light from the dawning sun through the open door. 
	“Ooh, w-what… even…” the biker huffed. Then tapped the side of their helmet. -Crrfht- An antenna erected, a mic telescoped out in an arch. He tapped the receiver. “We might have a situation on our hands.”