Rita, End of the line
Late Arrival, 6

Written by Septia.


Closing my eyes, a theatre of gluttony played in my mind: There I had stood, halfway down the queue to the information booth of Bodinborg theme park, when… she arrived. A black hole had played the role of her maw that descended upon us. Living humans being reduced to a galaxy of limbs and then into bloated protrusions in her physique. I had felt her presence build, and as she devoured the line of guests… one woman had escaped her… one woman, who had thrown herself out of the beast's path, a hair from being grasped by the living typhoon engulfing the crowd. 
	But once the storm had passed, that woman that had laid out outside her grasp… That woman… I had survived.
	Perhaps I had embellished a couple of details, that is what happens when you retell an event to yourself, every day after every evening… each time with another toy in the line: “The handmaiden's fantasy stuffer” toy in your hand… or between my legs… My heart spurred into throbs.
	It still had me going… after all these weeks… It still got me going… It had back then too, if the circumstances were different – less of a public place, a tad less nerve wracking adrenaline of being near death shooting through my system. I might have not have been able to hold back, there on the amusement park grounds… In fact, in the commotion of that day, my favourite “Lady's Dream-nest” model “Egg” had… vacated my clutches. 
	My mind was more than foggy that day, so my toy had been left behind. At this point I was surely not paying admission to searching for a pleasure instrument that had surely been trashed come the evening clean up. It just meant I had to replace it once I got home… and boy had I needed it… 
	For a straight week, my mind had been dominated by that woman: playing the scene for the audience of my mind, writhing in bed as I imagined that gut filling with squirming, struggling bodies, then slowly reducing it down to meat… 
	Although… after a while, those fantasies, weren't enough. Every day, I got a little closer, each day I imagined less myself watching her devour, and more… being cramped between screaming bodies… heat boiling us together, the wobble of her phlegmatic walk dousing us in acid as she melted, me… into nothing, reduced to calories and ass fat… 
	“Phah hhuffff, phaa,” I breathed in through a hiss of teeth, and out in an exertion of air. The last few weeks had been, embossed with obsession, for a trauma that tugged on the strings of my libido like no other. But, each time it got the better of me, I could simply open my eyes, remind myself of reality, and find some peace… However… I had come to the point where that luxury was beyond me.


I opened my eyes. Ahead of me was a paved path to a villa. Remote. Rural. Built from an era and time I had no framework for. It was, modest, some might say shabby, but… sturdy. This could be the end of my search: Behind those walls… could be… 
	Tracking Rita down had been easy at first. There was news of her entry into the park, and of the rampaging woman who – if accounts were to be believed – had been her target. But after that, the trail had gone cold… However… with the money in my… toy fund, no longer used, I had enough for a proper investigation. I had followed the leads, taken risks, and when it showed that Rita may have left the continent… I had crossed the sea after her… My funds, had run dry a while ago… And if this wasn't it… I'd just have to start over. 


Still standing in front of the house. I couldn't picture my approach… What would I say? How could I explain the existence of this, bob-cut, skimpy woman with a black bow tied around her neck – that she insisted wasn't to make herself look like a present – or for that matter, what her goals were? I fiddled with the bow, it laid flat and elegant, accentuating my neck, and framing my bust which was peeking through my partially buttoned blouse underneath. Was this appealing enough? Did Rita care about appeal? 
	So I just, kept watch… an unwanted, unemployed sentry. 


~ 1 ~


-Ckrrrrk-. The door creaked, far away… 
	My heart leapt into my gullet, and I tried to swallow it down as a woman walked outside and onto the veranda. Then, I found myself chocking, when… she, followed the woman soon after.
	Our eyes met for a moment, it drilled ice through my spine. 
	The women talked, sitting down on the ground level of the veranda, taking in the fresh late summer air and surroundings. 
	It took a while for them to notice, that the woman standing at the end of the entryway, was in fact staring at them the whole time. 
	Heart, throbbing in my neck, I stepped forwards. Swinging my arms forwards in each tred to usher my locomotion onwards, and, quench my fluster under determination. I stop at the staircase up to the veranda, – three little steps separating me from us. 
	
	“He hey, I don't think we've met. If we did, I can't recall, but are you one of Chlo's friends?” the other woman asked. 
	My mind didn't register her properly. I inhaled. “Are you… Rita?” 
	Those dead, marigold eyes held me captive in their gaze. “Yes.” 
	I gulped my heart back down my chest. “Please eat me.” 


Fluster corrupted my countenance. W-where did those words come from? I hadn't imagined myself saying that… well, I had. It was what I wanted to say, but they had just escaped from my lips like wanted criminals. 
	Rita's expression remained. A statue carved out of hairless brown skin. She answered: “Why?” 
	I felt the fracture breach across my heart. Tension dissipating and converting to embarrassment and regret. Her single word was a cold shower that brought me to a clear view of the reality ahead of me. 
	“Woah, I have gotta say, if you'd phrased that another way I'd have told you to back off, but that was real particular word choice there, wasn't it?” 
	I could focus on the other woman as she addressed me. But, what was ahead of me was not the crazy hobo with their rampaging, noodle-like hair tendrils… But rather, a well dressed woman, she even had several of her arm-wide noodley hair strands wrapped behind her head in a comically large ponytail. Though some still rested over shoulder. 
	“How…” 
	“W-with your mouth preferably-.” I began. 
	“Did you find us?” Rita spoke over me. 
	I swallowed a couple more times, enough that I felt the bow bobbing at my neck… “I… followed you, from… B-Bodinborg.” 
	Rita blinked. 
	“What? Rita, do you know what this ‘lil mayflower is talking about?” 
	Rita turned her head to Lin, away from me… “I visited while looking for you. Over a month now.” 
	Lin's expression shifted. “Wait wait, hold up,” she said and took a stand on the veranda. Deep in thought. ”That, must have been in Ceres, you… you followed us from Ceres? You crossed the ocean, just for Rita to…,” Lin's confusion melted away into a smirk. “Well haven' we got ourselves a lil' pilgrim?” 
	The tone she took sent another quiver through my spine. I had made a fool of myself. Already. 
	“So is that why you are all wrapped up like a birthday present?” Lin asked as she walked behind Rita. 
	‘That's, not it at all,’ I thought “… Yes. Y-you noticed.” My lips were less than cooperative, the fist over my chest tugging and nipping at the wrapping bow. 
	Rita tilted her head. 
	Lin’s eyes bugged at the reply. “You are so horny I can feel myself getting in the mood just by proxy,” she rested a palm on the flat dome of Rita's head. “What should we say to her?” 
	Rita's pupils shifted, from my black skirt, up to the loose white blouse, up past my bow, and into my eyes. “I do not require more fuel. We have enough sustenance.” 
	The fractures mounted my heart. Was this really the hurricane of authority, the natural disaster that had swept through the theme park? Was this really Rita? Wait… was it? Her eyes had captivated me, I took a moment to process. She, wasn't wearing that blackish overcoat. She wore nothing more than a top, a midnight blue, dark shirt, and… a hint of black covering her crotch… 
	“Haven't gotten her to wear pants yet, or a skirt for that matter, she might look cute in the one you're wearing though,” Lin noted, then she patted Rita on the cheek. Why do you have to deny her so fast? She's come quite a ways away just to see you absolutely pork out on her.” 
	“Tis…,” Rita's eyes shifted from to Lin, and back to me, as she straightened her head back. “Is unusual.” 
	“I…” I closed my lips, thinking, sneaking glances of Rita's stomach. “I won't, force mys-. I c-can't… Forget it.” 
	“Hold on, you just have to give me a couple of seconds, to talk so she understands.” Lin squatted beside the seated Rita. “You don't need more food, do you my girl? But…,” she said, glancing to me, “are you hungry?” 
	A hum was made in the bottom of Rita's neck. 
	Lin continued. “This pilgrim here went on quite the vacation to find you, crossing continents, stumbling aimless until she tracked you down… doesn't that… remind you of anything?” 
	Rita's breathing stilled. It had been so calm, incorporated into the atmosphere itself, but undetectable. But its absence, was choking.
	“Do you want to leave her hanging in front of the finish line forever?” Lin whispered.
	Rita closed her eyes. She rose: A monolith of dark skin. One step down the stairs… two steps… I tilt my head back, to see her face to face, a hand's length separating us. 
	Rita's eyes bathed me in their glow; I became a deer in the headlights. 
	“You want me to eat you.” It was not a question. 
	I was compelled to answer. “Y-yes, I do.” 
	A weight bore down on my shoulders, feeling the grasp of Rita's palms holding me in place.
	“You. Want. Me to eat yo?” This time… it was a question. 
	I just blushed. Well… not ‘just’”… her presence ahead of me… a Wall. 
	Her face, closed the distance to mine, I felt the breath pass through her parting lips. In a fluster I closed my eyes, and puckered my lips… 
	-Shhrllllrlpt- The tongue, met with my skin… smooth, unnaturally smooth, like a hunk of living rubber, molding against my fluster, lapping up across my cheeks, up to my eyebrows, paving a way of sleek drool to paint my face. 
	It wasn't a kiss… she was… tasting me? If it had been a kiss I would have been choked, but…I didn't ‘just’ fluster, again. 
	She withdrew, a trial of saliva webbing us together. As she closed her mouth, eyes still blank. 
	“Oooo bravo Rita. That's what we like to see, just make sure not to overestimate the ‘lil thermometer of a pilgrim. But… spill, how did she taste?” 
	I had taken care to wash, even mixed in spices in my shampoo, and a rocksalt bath at the hotel. I was so curious… what she thought. 
	Rita turned. “She tastes horny.” 
	The answer knocked the wind out of my sails again, though at this point, my ship was carried by the currents.
	“That's not a proper flavour profile, Rita, maybe all you need to do is give her a better taste, see what's under the surface?” Lin said. Two tendrils of her hair were crawling up on my back, wrapping around my shoulders, and… hoisting me up, drawing me over the threshold to that first step… of this vessel that was my body, I was no longer at the helm. 


Rita cradled my heels in her palms, the soft pantyhose fabric caressing her skin… Should I have gone without them? She wasn't making an effort to remove them. My heart was approaching my neck again, each beat climbing higher, Lin at my back, hoisting me with her hair, at the leisure of the beast I had seen devour dozens. 
	Rita looked up to me. Her expression, twitched. “I will begin eating you now.” 
	“I-I understand,” I mumbled in reply. 
	“I will not stop.” 
	“Y-you don't have to. I…” 
	“Will that be all.” She spoke without the intonation of a question. 
	“I… if, I…” I mumbled, shuddering as she spoke, and I saw the inside of her maw. “I wouldn't mind if, you took your time wi-with me some, I… want to…” I trailed off. 
	Rita lowers her gaze. “If that is all. I will make you my meal now.” Her lips part at the end of the sentence as she guided my feet inside. The damp clasp of her cheeks trawling over my soles, up past the sides of my heels, disappearing within the chocolate lips. I blinked and my feet were a pommel in her throat. Rita's lips warped over my ankles, broadly percolating outwards in size as I felt my legs down her gape. The bulge sunk down her neck, replaced by the oblong shapes of my calves whilst she swallowed my knees -Chhrllpgg- loOmgpgah-. The world echoed with her swallows, my world shakes… past the heat of her saliva, it felt like being assaulted by a wetsuit. There was nothing else in the throat, and yet it was tighter than I had imagined… the pressure already magnified from my fantasies… 
	“Mgmmphaaammmf,” I squealed out a grunt of a moan, quaking in their combined grasp. It was happening. I felt her body morphing around mine, my frame sinking through hers like nothing but jelly… 
	Then, as she had her cheeks ballooned by my thighs… -Shrlrlp- I felt her tongue. A delicate instrument, playing the libido of my honeypot like my image had of her for weeks… matte brushstrokes soaking through my nethers, with a hungry delve it sought down, dipping into the pit of nectar as her maw massaged its way over my ass… 
	“Haauh.a.aaha…” I gasped, tremors spiralling through my mind, vision, growing hazy. I saw her looking up at me… what was behind those eyes… why did she hold me here? She lingered, revolving her flexible muscle. Was… it for me? Did… she like it? -maybe… maybe she just noticed, how damp it already was… Her eyes keep their wits about them and soon, I felt the suction, the chugs of my body draining down her lips, my petite hind drowned in the flesh of her neck, and each swallow hauling down more of my torso. -Golloommpgh- -Oooommpghl- -OOmgghll- her lips pass over my arms, up to my shoulders, and I feel a numbness from my body, cramping into her… watching the dome of her gut swelling below. Reacting to my movements, jostled to and fro, peeking out from under her shirt, rolling the cloth up like a parchment over the billowing mound of dark skin. “Mmgpgaha.” My squeals, reverberate in her throat… the pressure of her neck… the rhythm of convulsions I felt, was it her breath? Were our lungs so close? 
	The last of Lin's appendages relinquished me to Rita. Shoulders and a head full of hair, wrapped in her maw… eye to eye… Even now, I could not discern them, I only gave myself to it, the hunger, the force of the throat rippling around me… This, this was the typhoon I had seen that day, the one that shook my life off course. I closed my eyes. 
	-Shshr- A creasing brush of fabric against fabric, I felt an ease of tension on my throat. I parted open my eyes. Seeing Rita hold each end of the bow, as it unwrapped from my neck… Once the silk relinquished my neck, when I could just wheeze in reply, she swallowed… lips sprawling over my neck, covering my mouth like a mask, over my nose, muffling my moans, folding my bobbed haircut back under the steaming pressure of her lips… -Guuillpgmsph- then my ties to the world were severed by the pinching of plush lips, descending, drowning, in Rita's domain. 


~ 2 ~


Tight… tight… My head entering her guts did nothing to ease the space I was allotted, cramped with my knees bent onto my chest, smothering my prides whilst my head was forced to bend over them. The humid atmosphere instilling its dominance across my back, plastering my skin wet under only the pressure of her acids. How did she fit dozens in here? How had she carried over a meter wide guy with scrambling guests? It clamped over my head, luscious, smooth flesh immersing me with the pressure of a nutcracker… My breathing grew shorter, shorter… 
	-Bbwhgagnns- The gut expanded, stomach lining swelling around me, offering me a few cents of grace. This freedom had me tumbling back, slumped with my head slotting back in the warping skin, staring to, what I believed was upwards. I couldn't be sure, every direction was a fortress of undulation sinew, furling and warping in a rhythm of bassy drumbeat. 
	The world shook for a moment, and the stomach bugled inwards on each side, smooshing in against my posterior, then up against my torso, I felt like I was in a vice… With the new room, I was crushed against the indents… they continued from the front of the belly, swinging towards the back… they clenched in around me gently, then let go, I bobbed in their grasp. This, was her hips? She was sitting down, squeezing me between her thighs? My free arm found my clam, starting to tease on the emotions rushing through me, an attempting to manage them, but slowly giving in. “Mmffna moafhaaoa Ooogmms, mmgs…,” I whimpered, playing on my flourishing libido, self-preservation snuffed out under a cascade of undiluted lust. “Mmg aooooo-yyyes.” 
	There were sounds outside, tatters of voices, only segments penetrated through to my consciousness.
	“S-, wha- d- -e t-ste -ke? Co- -ow, g- m- th- -ets?” 
	They were… rumbles: an echo of voices. 
	“-at -d -r s-t -e -e?” 
	“Her s- was -eet. Car-mel. It -a- th- -ess of o-n.” 
	“Whoa, hear t-t? I -on't -ink I -ave e- heard -ch -ise f-m o- -f Rita's m-ls.”
	-Bbwhhggngngn- The clap of flesh unleashed a turmoil of churning wobbles of the gut around me, roused from the impact. I felt like a stress ball sliding up against the walls of the stomach. And against it I felt the warm, clammy humidity consensing into my skin -Shhrlrpllrth- -Chrjslp- Her stomach drooled for me… I kept playing my ‘instrument’, the grandest solo of my life, heightened perceptions roaring through my tendons. Then the precious grace, was retracted… the walls cocooned in on me -Chrllrpth- with the grind of a snake constricting its catch, thumping me against the walls, bending me to the whims of the meal labelled flesh. Then, it eased, only to clench once more -Chtppth-. The contractions pelted me with a smatter of oozing fluids, drooping and trickling down my frame, but it never left me… Each smatter of gut chyme glued onto me -chshslaptah- enclosing my body in an onslaught of steaming phlegm… Then… I felt it sizzle… Every muscle in my body tensed, just as the gut contracted again -Clgpgth- the force a receptive repose to my shudders, putting me in my place, at the same time I felt I was contained and could feel the tremors shooting through my frame with all the more definition and tactile weight… The message of the stomach was clear:, it would crush me into paste. I felt… like a stress ball, squeezed tighter, tighter… past the breaking point… to where the heat and pressure would melt my exteriors, compressing me to a diamond of sludge and fat that would not but nourish and plumpen up this body's curves… Rita's stomach was the fist of a giant, it would keep me pinned, until I was a molten smear on its palm. 
	“Yo- s-m t-bled. Usua- -on't -ee -u -ri- this -uch -t -r ow- -um. What? Y- w-na b-y -ce?” 
	“S-e -s a king mo -ns.” 
	“So s-e -lly l-s it, ain't -is fu-~. My -ar g-l -ing n-w t-gs~. -ayb- -ou c-ld -et a -ob -in’ p-le -or mon-?”
	More of the mumbles and conversation outside… punctuated by a new pressure on my side. I felt the walls buckling inwards in a grope, grinding onto my skin. The steam from the fluids eating through my blouse, turning my clothes into a cloud of vapors, and working its way through my skin. I could feel the crimson blood beneath my dermis drain as the pressure and heat soldered it, boiling my insides under the forge of a cauldron, stripping layers off my body as it melted the colour off my skin. Another throb of the gut clenching -Chrrlphg- whilst the grinds of the rubs contracting the gut outside worked in over my skin, lathering my body in acids that broke the composition of my being, left me soggy and bloated, molding under the frying touch of the walls converging upon me -Chhrlrlpah-. The forceful kneads spread, warping around the gut, clutching me tighter in each contraction… but then, it relented… only the rhythm of the stomach left as it clenched, harder, easing, out, and folding taught over me. The pressure returned… but, different. The gropes were weaker, it was more, of a prod, I felt like something foreign and inviting, the touch of newfound curiosity of one who had been limp their whole life. 
	I was. Explored, as I felt myself in confusing pleasure, howling in vocal chords smothered in acid mist. The plastering fluids sunk, ever deeper through my skin. More layers, more heat, eating, sweltering, burning. Live coals puncturing into my body, and melting it to a doughy ash…. Growing numb to other sensations my digits assaulted my crotch, there was no beauty in it left, there was no sonata played on my instrument of libido… oh no, this was reality… a melting slut pounding her pussy raw while it was still attached to her lap… 
	A thought passes in my head… if I had not leapt aside, if others had not pushed me… the world would have been the same, give or take a month… I am… back where I belong… My thoughts faded into simple gratification as the walls pummels me -Chhgllrtch- -Klgloommngk- like a clockwork of meat and sinew… or… muscle… as I laid there, melting into a puddle of my own desire and flesh… I felt… a new kinship… my heart, beat, stronger, stronger… as the stomach beat, harder, harder… Rita's stomach… the muscle undulating into me with pounding force… was a heart… I was being beaten to a pulp of lust… in the beast's heart… 
	Each throb around me unleashed a wave of pleasure… I was held on the very edge of satisfaction spilling out of me, again, and again, each beat of her heart hammered satisfaction out of my being –Gnn-thgmgs- -Bbbh-Thngs- -Buggy-ghthtgllpsah- Each time, leaving less, and less of me, to savour it… until one throb, one undulation of her flesh… left me as nothing but part of that release of fluids… -Chhpphhttlpltguslgsh-. My journey concluding, as a puddle of pleasure. 


~ 3 ~


-Bhuaaaooouurlslp- The belch passing Rita's lips carried a few black hairs in it, some, dropping out of the air where they were hugged by the forceful exchange of breath, and plummeted to the ground soaked in drool and residual enzymes. Rita smacked her lips and kept walking, a palm on her stomach. Then… she halted, turning to glance at the floor, at the traces of the girl, willing to dive down her throat. She placed a palm at her gut… sunken back once more from the departure of the transient encounter, but she had not left, not truly. Rita's palm wandered up to her neck, where a bow of black silk laid tied, bow resting under a light bulb of bloated skin, a salient effigy of this sentiment. 
	There was a softness in Rita's gaze she could not place. Then she walked, she walked on soles calcified by travel, leaving destination in the wake of her journey.