Summary: A little surprise awaits Stelle on the Astral Express.

Word Count: 3,087

Author’s Note: Yo! If you haven’t noticed already, this piece was uploaded as separate frames on  Jevmav’s gallery. Make sure to give them a watch if you liked the artwork. This work was made possible by  Thor11. As they decided to give it to me as a gift for my birthday last month. I was super stoked to get such a kind and thoughtful present for this passing of a year. Thus, I hope that y’all also enjoy this little story I wrote to accompany this piece. As we ever so slowly inch ourselves deeper into the mortal coil, we call life.

Story~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


Kafka:


Another passed star on the Astral Express. Another steaming cup of dark browned liquid stimulant. Gingerly held by a purple glove. Not within the dainty and confident grip of the Trailblazer’s trusted navigator.

No.

Himeko’s warm grip, on her warm cup of freshly brewed coffee, was replaced by the commanding squeeze of Kafka’s gloved hand. The expanse of the purple haired Stellaron Hunter’s back was pushed back into the comfy embrace of the larger chair. The larger chair compared to the one that her similarly stuffed colleague was lounging in. Firefly.

“Hmm~ Firefly. I didn’t take you for the type to taunt your meals.”

Kafka’s raspy cadence was tinged with mirth. Not directed at her partner in crime, but towards the heaving weight saddled on her thighs. For the purple-haired woman’s abdomen jutted out with an impressive and uneven set of curves. With blemishing contours that allowed for the predator’s stretched skin to sink back and provide a squeezing encapsulation.

Straining sinew that rhythmically tensed.

Conferring thrumming heat, coincident with the mature woman’s collected heartbeat, during this exciting moment of digestion.

Guruelsh~~

There was not much that her prey, Himeko, could do. As the binding set of abdominals squeezed around her. Thereby, presenting the outer tapestry of Kafka’s opulently bobbing midriff as nothing more than a feminine, indistinct outline. The identity of the occupant unknown to most. Save for the trespassers of the Astral Express.

Mmh~~

Kafka cooed as she tilted the hot mug of piping joe up to her seductively curving lips. To invite the stimulating brew to tingle her stomach walls and neurons. Much like the struggling red-haired prey was at this very moment.

I wonder if Stelle will mind if I keep the full-bodied navigator for myself.

The warm solution filled Kafka’s mouth and was then sent down as sloshing current by the sloping angle of her tongue. To worsen the paucity of the gastric organ’s space and add to the stomach lining’s churning nature. So that the velvety bloating of the mature woman’s exposed abdominal tumescence would become just as beautifully fragile as her delicate coat. After a firm and punishing softening of the hardy infrastructure within.


Firefly:


Firefly’s legs closely flanked the massive leak of flesh pouring out from under her dress. The arms of the chair she was sitting on ensured that a binding vice was maintained, on that was assisted by her legs raised up into the air, upon the rounded dome. Softly powerful inner surfaces of the spirited warrior’s calves and thighs merged with the pliant contours outlined by the subdued prey. For Firefly lacked Kafka’s experienced gastrointestinal system or the benefits of a more physically imposing stature. Thus, the impassioned predator fiercely squeezed down on the twitching back of the prey stretching her midriff. To compensate her smaller physicality with increasing earnestness and eagerness to exemplify destruction.

“How long is it going to take you to give up! Stelle is mine. Soon you’re going to be nothing but my insulating adipose cushion.”

The gray-haired veteran’s emotional walls were uncharacteristically taken down. During this moment of near triumph over a perceived rival for Stelle’s affections. The Trailblazer that had once been familiar with Kafka in the past.

Thus, Firefly huffed.

Her cheeks bulged as she slammed her lips tight, in teeth-grinding aggravation, and she swung the devoured March’s drenched jacket. A layer that the merciless girl ejected from her volatile lips just moments ago. An unintentional side effect from jettisoning the mephitic fumes within her stomach. An effort to deprive the pink-haired prey of even those traces of caustic-tainted oxygen.

“Are my words clear!? She’s mine! And you’re going to be nothing but my fat and shit.”

The bluntness of the predator’s words was combined with the sharp jabbing of her free hand’s index finger. To drive the point home to the prey. A pink-haired organism whose pathetic struggles resulted in a soothing internal massage of electrical currents. It seemed that the fire of Firefly’s demeaning diction and her furnace of a stomach were more than enough to discompose the prey. As the fiery Stellaron Hunter’s boulder jostled in an irregularly subdued arc between the border of her inner thighs.

Goroassh~~

The abundance protruding from the predator’s middle was soon beading with effort. The firm set of taut tissue gradually pulled into a vice. One that threatened the structural integrity of the prey within. March’s screams, nothing more than squeaks in between the stomach’s clamorous groans, set the fiery young woman’s heart to beat an extra beat and tighten. From the guilty pleasure of the underhanded tactic. The strategy she needed to utilize. For this sensation of solid meat slowly oozing into pliable butter. It wouldn’t be long…before the softness warming her clamping thighs, brushing against the undersides of her modest chest, and pulsing closer to the lower aspects of her abdomen…morphed once more.


Himeko:


I…I can’t believe this.

Himeko’s intelligent yellow eyes would have shined brightly within the constricting rows of digesting bedrock. However, the matrix of gastric muscle was not merciful enough to allow the Astral Express’s artificial light to shine through the boiling interior of Kafka’s gastric sac. A space that was filling up with searing hot chyme, emanating sizzling plumes that were more than bitter to the red-haired woman’s senses.

Each passing second was a forced inhale of the noxious fumes. To prolong her consciousness and her life within this inner vestibule. A meager part of the similarly curvaceous Stellaron Hunter’s mundane digestive system, which had set about its industrious task of sifting away the white layers that covered the navigator’s form.

The wrinkled peachy interface of Himeko’s soles was uncomfortably forced together by the encapsulating gastric brawn, which periodically reminded the prey of just how much force was packed into this innervated and blood-supplied oblong. Such that the intelligent navigator was able to craft a metric for keeping time. In pace with the predator’s natural bodily sounds.

Gushing heart. Inflating lungs. Profoundly sloshing stomach.

Kafka’s organs were filled with the pleasure of triumph. While Himeko’s organs were filled with a sense of unease. Her five senses were inundated with the tainting toxin of an atmosphere not meant for human metabolism. Yet, the intelligent navigator had to do it all the same. Lest she simply gave up her life at this moment. Even as the protective layer of her white dress merged with the scalding viscosity of gastric chyme. Acid and enzymes mixed with the baser components of acid-scorched fabric. Then…they immediately set their microscopic drills and fangs to prick at the red-haired prey’s itching skin.

Damn it!! how did they get in!?


March 7th:


The answer lied within the occupant of Firefly’s stomach. The pink-haired prey who was filled with betrayal and whatever burning bubbles that found their way past her vulvar-guarded orifice.

“Firefly! This isn’t anything close to what you said!!”

March’s eyes welled up with a burning liquid. The young girl was unsure if it was her own tears crystallizing or if it was the zesty slime produced by the beefy wrinkles of the predator’s stomach. Regardless of the present situation, or entirely because of it, March thought about how the gray-haired Stellaron Hunter asked if she could come aboard the Stellaron Express for a short minute. Just to check out their rooms. The Photography and Boba Tea enthusiast had no idea that it was all a trick. For not only Firefly entered the Astral Express…but the other prominent female members of the Stellaron Hunters. Shortly afterwards, the pink-haired prey would be introduced to Firefly’s personal room. A space as airless, except for the vilest of fume-filled gulps, as it was torturous. The only reprieve, the pulsating distention of this arc known as the predator’s physical digestion, only seemed to sharpen the pangs of pain that the prey felt. When the slime-laden lumen came back to hotly adhere to her softening skin. To teach March just how it felt to be a slimy ball of soft boba flesh and force her to imagine a destiny racing to meet her.

Of being frozen on Firefly’s jiggling frame, fattened by the additions the plucky photographer would make.

“Just let me out! Let me ouhehck!!”

March felt her swollen throat bulge in response to her sudden outburst. A conduit necessary for life, that was inflamed by the aerosolized chyme that found its way into the back of her esophagus. The pink-haired prey’s body uselessly flailed within the dark and drenching depths of Firefly’s crushing insides.

Please. Anybody. Stelle…

March’s cries were silenced. Not only by the furious insult that was her alimentary inflammation, but by the repugnant bulging of Firefly’s gastric rugae. Beefy folds of stomach flesh that pressed against the prey’s parted lips in a denigrating locking of lips. It was enough to make the pink-haired woman want to vomit. If only to add to the rising tide of burning hot chyme that crawled up her body.

Help!!

GURSLURSH~~


Silver Wolf:


surslush

Elden Ring. Genshin Impact.

Pwap!

“Hey! This screen you have on the corner of your desk. The one with all the charts. It isn’t anything important? Is it?”

The ponytailed gamer questioned the immense leakage of her abdominal flesh. Of course, that might not have been the most appropriate description of her tummy. For Silver Wolf was the one member of the Stellaron Hunter who regularly bore her midriff for the public. So, her slim midriff slope was perpetually leaked out to the public eye. An unassuming, almost benign space, that stowed away unspeakable heat and pressure. Enough to liquefy even the sturdiest of men.

“Eh…not as if you can really tell me now. What with you choking on my chyme-flavored gamer gulp.”

Silver Wolf emotionlessly pieced her syllables together with each pulling gnaw of her calcium chompers. Teeth that were slurping up the pink gum that the predator carelessly popped between her lips. Before she turned her newly acquired rotating seat back into the firm and cutting embrace of the blue desk’s blocky edge.

I can feel my anus tensing already. I’m surprised that he hasn’t melted more.

Silver Wolf patted the firm swell of her spilling stomach, while her metabolism pumped and revved with gusto. That terse pat was all that she gave to the immense swath of warmth. Spillage of caloric heat that still arranged in the rugged outline of the older man’s much larger body. Nevertheless, he was still reduced to a nondescript set of lines, emerging into prominence with each tense of the gamer’s abdominals timed with her breaths. As she waited to scroll through the main menu of her Genshin Impact account. To search for any missing birthday presents that she forgot to pick up this past year. Virtual food that sometimes came with an accommodating treat. Yet, nothing truly satisfies as much as a physical meal. Especially one that had several feet of height on the professional hacker, Silver Wolf.

“Hey. I hope that you are playing nice in there. I don’t want my bowels pulling me away from my seat before I finish this event.”

Now.

The graying and aged Welt was forced into an uncomfortable contortion. His old bones either broken or near the point of breaking. Thus, the surrounding nerves and meat were torn by the wayward calcium. To ease the job of the encompassing acids dripping around his form.

Welt’s eyes burned past his fogged up and useless frames. His fraying hair flowed in a stream. As his sloughing skin burned. The weathered, by time and now acids, man’s nostrils and tongue were forced to soak up the putrid elements of this gamer’s diet-tainted gastric atmosphere. His ears were muffled to the predator’s casual remarks and teasing. No…all the old man could do was wait for the grueling end brought about by an unceremoniously cataclysmic crunch.

Shit. It always takes so long to load on that Geo symbol.

Alas, none of those gastric occurrences filled this Stellaron Hunter’s mind. Outside. As she swiveled in her seat to acquire as much comfort as she could. Her tush, soon to be fattened by all this masculine meat oozing between her stomach folds, found just the right contour of the seat to settle on. At least for the first hour. Hopefully, the ampleness of the sedentary gamer’s rear would soon become much more profound. As Silver Wolf pressed the unyielding ball of her elbows against the slight give of her boulder of a stomach.

Burrrgggglushh

A geode of flesh gushing with slimy solution. Endeavoring to squish the softening substrate into a delightful gulp of gooey intestinal slop.

“Fuck. What’s with the internet speed here.”

Clack. Clack.

“No wonder we broke in so easily. Your firewall literally sucks as much as your subordinates.”


Stelle:


“Wow…thanks so much for coming for my…birthday…”

Stelle awkwardly pushed herself into the firm slope of the red couch’s cushion. The gray-haired Trailblazer tried to make herself as accommodating as possible for the other people sitting on the long piece of furniture. Regularly, it could seat more than just four individuals, but the lone Nameless of the Astral Express was certain that would be a lot more difficult with their current states.

For the rest of Stelle’s crew was packed on as literal processed pounds on her guests. The Stellaron Hunters. Lovely women, a bit lacking in a sense of personal space and laws, who decided to come aboard for a very special day. What was the day and reason behind their consumption of March, Himeko, and Welt? Why, supposedly it was the Trailblazer’s special day of birth. So, the trio of women helped themselves onto the spaceborne train and some weighty meals that happened to be walking around.

“Mmh~ Don’t mention it Stelle. You know that I’m always lurking around the corner, and I just love indulging in your happiness.”

Kafka crooned as she scooted over to the young woman. Someone that she considered her own daughter, despite their tenure of separation. The purple haired Stellaron Hunter’s arm effortlessly wrapped around the befuddled Nameless’s back. At the exact same moment that Firefly lovingly pressed her hands into the bulky protuberance of Stelle’s engorged midsection.

“Aww! You already went and ate Dan Heng. Well…I guess that saves us on getting a cake. Oh! Unless you are still hungry. I’d be more than happy to get it.”

Firefly’s eyes sparked with delight. The fiery woman’s words were as merry as her fingers, which danced along the still solid frame buried deep within the trash raccoon of a glutton. A contrast to the frames of each of the three other predators in the main guest room.

Himeko’s intelligence only afforded her the clarity of fully experiencing her untimely end. Now she was nothing but sagging pudge hanging from Kafka’s velvety soft belly. An undercarriage bubbling with heat, vacant of nourishment, and stuffed with resin composed of stimulating matter. All just waiting to pour out of the mature woman’s backend. A sufficient emptying between doughy cheeks. To counterbalance the additions made to the older purple-haired woman’s chest.

An augmentation that was only exceeded by the tons of March-based lard that marched their way from Firefly’s soft stomach and up to her jiggling breasts. The gray-haired and doe-eyed woman’s mammary flesh unabashedly spilled over Stelle’s distended blimp of a midriff. At the spot where she would have guessed her own prey’s head was still bulging through. Thus, the digesting Dan Heng was forced to feel the close embrace of the gray-haired Stellaron Hunter. Firefly’s aggressive posture released an oozing warmth of the calories that she soaked up from her prey. No tears left…just a plush shelf of pudge to collide with the Trailblazer predator’s own firm corpulence.

“Hey. It’s fine if I take this little corner here. Let me know when we’re going to sing the birthday song or whatever.”

Then there was Silver Wolf. One eye fully lidded and the other was halfway there. The ponytail-haired predator sank her body into the distant arm of the chair. Her abdominal bloat the stiffest and perkiest out of the three. However, if it was the remains of Welt in there, then it was far too late for him. For the tight compact space that the gamer’s belly took was far too small for the six-foot man to be housed in. No. He was utterly crushed into proteinaceous goo that was pulped and gulped by the short woman’s intestines. Most likely to power the gamer’s metabolism as she played the afternoon away on the Astral Express’s equipment. For, aside from her jostling midriff, there was barely a change to Silver Wolf’s stature. Now there was just the relative daintiness of her proudly swollen abdomen. After that last squeezable boulder was pulverized…why no one would recognize Welt even blemishing the predator’s figure. In all likelihood, no one would be able to distinguish the dump his remains would contribute to. If Silver Wolf’s metabolism was any indication, then he would stream out of the young hacker’s twitching donut hole as uniform brown mud.

Perhaps the same will be true for Stelle’s meal.

Huh…sorry Dan Heng. I know that you agreed to be in my stomach, so I didn’t feel hungry for my birthday, but I don’t think that I’ll have an opportunity to let you out.

Stelle initially ate her friend thinking that this would be a temporary tease. However, she threw out such a notion once she noticed the finality of the other prey’s existence.

Sucks to be you...but I hope that you enjoy becoming the fatty drapes around my belly and curves.

How they were wedded loosely along both Kafka and Firefly’s curvaceous figures and tightly around Silver Wolf’s tumescent middle. The ample weight gain lacked in modesty, but gladly exchanged it for decadent and ready squishiness that conferred their seductive softness.


“Thanks for everything.”

Stelle awkwardly smiled at the two sets of her found family. One set having grown into powerful hunters leaking with the results of their gluttonous behaviors, and the other set settled as deposits after the appeasing the carnal appetites of the former group. Regardless, if there was one thing that Stelle was certain about, then that would be just how much more doughy terrain she could possibly sneak a brushing palpation of during this party. Just to inspect the current state of predator and prey of course.

Yea.

…I guess...

No other reason than that.

...this is a good birthday present.

Stelle blushed as she reached the terminus of that thought.

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