Total Pa ty Kill

Co tent war ings:

- Vore

- D g stion

- Be ching

❧
HOOOOOURR PHHHHH!

Ni kia is full.

OOOOOURRR PHHHH!

So too is the sky vast, the ocean wet, the fo est green. All these things are u der-

stat ments.

The ma sive fe al sphinx slos es like a stormy sea, her pelt di ten ed to a frankly

o scene d gree. She does not have a be ly; her be ly has her. Her throat ri ples, drag-

ging her la est catch down her gu let. Stru gling legs slip past her lips and dive down

deep. The rogue squirms and writhes, fee ing for one of his many hi den blades…

…which she spits out like w te me on seeds, her e pert tongue ha ing long re-

lieved him of his weapons. His writhing bulge va is es into her t ta ic body, his

plunge into her gut marked by a deeply-mu ed ke plunk.

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 “C mon!” she roars — her pla fu ly chi per voice a stark co trast to her mo strous

gut — “can’t one of you a swer the ri dle? An one? Hello?“

She rolls over, her eno mous body sha te ing the trunks of hu dred-year-old oaks

like matc sticks. Even wit out her packed paunch, she would be fo midable: ea ly

ten m ters from head to tail, legs thick with mu cle and paws the size of cart wheels.

With…ten? teen? twe ty? a ve tu ers in her roi ing cau dron of a sto ach, she’s tru-

ly u sto pable.

Her colo sal wings ap and ail, blo ing a rows out of the air and snuf ng out a

wi ard’s gro ing r ball. The sheer sound ri pling from her guts is le endary: a ca-

cophony of gu gles, gl rps, and pops that nea ly drowns out the ba tle-cry of the par-

ty’s ba ba ian…

…who va is es down her throat a few se onds la er, snapped up, sha en ’til his

weapons sca ter to the fo est oor, and swa lowed whole with a mighty GULP!

“So ry — “HOOO RRRRRU RRPHHH — “that isn’t the a swer! Good try, though!

You’re ge ting warmer!”

Her wa on-sized head cras es through the fe ble shields of a trio of wi ards,

scoo ing them up in one ga ga t an bite. “Mm p hh,” she mu bles around her

mout ful of food, “you’re all sho ski ny.” Her tongue las es out and scoops one all the

rest of the way in, all three plun ing down her throat like a bou der into a lake. A cane

e e gies spill out as they’re ea en alive, erup ing from her maw like crac les of st ic

ele tri ty.

“Wait! So ry! You didn’t get to try and a swer!”

She gacks and heaves, her whole body hea ing like a house-cat tr ing to work out

a hai ball. Alas, the three are a ready packed into her guts, and all that comes out are a

few slime-drenched skulls and a heap of half-d ges ed leather a mor, fo lowed by the

rogue’s skin-tight ou t.

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 B fore she can try again, an om nous ru ble ri es up wit in her gut. Her body

might be bo de line i mune to magic, but that didn’t mean it wouldn’t work i side

her. Som thing b gins to press and swell. Her ela tic gut stretc es out twice, then

thrice its ori nal size — strai ing and — BWAAAA RRRPHHH — for ing out great

gouts of ga tric ga es.

“Hey!” she says, mes ly scar ng down a ot er pa ic ing prey-thing even as her

sto ach swells far b yond re so able size. “Stop that!”

I side, the wi ards — those who weren’t a ready ge ting se tled on her hips, at least

— stru gled to hold their co p sure. All six of them were gro ing, their bo ies

swelling to ve m ters in height as they cha nel their ma cal e e gies. Alone, they

would still be a ma ag able meal, but t get er…even the mighty sphinx might just

stru gle.

Nikkia groans and rolls over, blas ing a ranger with a point-blank BWAR-

RRRRRPHHH. She groans and stu bles fo ward, lan ing right in the mo ster’s slaver-

ing maw. Greedy as ever, the mo ster bolts her down in se onds. The writhing lump

slides down the sphinx’s throat…and gets stuck.

“Huh?” she mu murs, rolling over and gi ing the r mai der of the pa ty b neath

her a m ment to e cape. Alas, so laden is she with prey that she slos es right back

down, lea ing one of them buried b neath her eno mous bulk. She swa lows hard,

but there’s just nowhere for her prey to go.

I side her roi ing guts, her prey squirms with r newed vi or. Their stru gles are

wor ing! Sur ly, they were close — just a bit more size, maybe a li tle more strength,

and she’d have to hork them out. Then, they could strike. They could slay the foul

beast for good!

A wretc ed gu gle ri ples through her mo strous body. Ve t ble ge sers of gas-

tric ids gush from all around, dou ing her a sur ly-sized meal in fresh acids and

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 swif ly bur ing through their ma cal wards. Most of her qua ry melt in se onds, their

mel ing forms slos ing about with i mense force as Nikkia writhes with ple sure and

pre sure — lea ing only the so ce ers, even their e larged bo ies star ing to sof en un-

der the o slaught. Ri ples of per sta sis crash over them like waves on the rocks,

knea ing them into su mi sion. She swa lows hard, pum ing the ranger down and

bur ing her in a dea ly ga tric grave.

From the ou side, the scene is har ly any less ho ri c: a cresce do of d ge tive

po er, buil ing and buil ing and buil ing, her gut clenc ing so tigh ly that the pan-

icked faces of all six of her r mai ing prey could be seen through her pelt. So da zling

is her ga tr no ic di play that the last few me bers of that doomed rai ing pa ty

stop and stare — tran xed, even as she go bles them down like mi nows and churns

them up in the blink of an eye. Ever one and ever thing e ble has been crammed

into her guts, and, with a nal, calam tous GLOOOOOO U RRRGLE, even her

hard est of meals co lapse u der the acidic o slaught.

Five wi ards r main, hol ing out against hope for re cue. Four ma age to stay

alive for a whole half-minute. Three even get to the forty-se ond mark, and—

BWUAAAAAA RRRP P HH!

Zero.

Nikkia’s gut r bounds like a tra p line, nea ly tos ing her into the air as it heaves,

slos es, and sags. It dwarfs her, ea ly twice her size. She couldn’t move if she wan ed

to…but, of course, she didn’t.

Then comes the nale.

F ture scribes would try, and fail, to ca ture its sheer i te s ty — som thing that

mere words could ne er hope to d scribe, a spe t cle that had to be seen to be be-

lieved. Alas, all those who could’ve seen were li tle more than thick stew by then…but

ple ty were still around to hear it. Birds ve miles away took ight. Farmhands

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 dropped their tools and co ered their ears. Town gates creaked and glass wi dows

sha tered.

Even the hea ens yiel ed to her crass eru tion: the clouds shu dered and scat-

tered, dr ven away by the colo sal shoc wave. She belched, and belched, and

belched — a si gle, u br ken ep taph for the thi ty-odd souls who had been r duced

to si me ing slop. It was as if a thu de storm had struck all at once: wit out the si-

lence b tween strikes, all that r mained was sheer noise.

The calam ty na ly drew to a close as Nikkia’s gut e pelled the last of its fumes.

She was spent, me ta ly and phy ca ly — and for a few blis ful hours, she slept.

❧
Nikkia moans and slumps over, huge paws scra bling at the fo est oor. All has f llen

quiet. Her eyes ic er open, ta ing in the late-a te noon sun. She nds her foo ing and

drags he self t wards a spilled ba ket of bread — even with three or four tons of meat

wor ing through her guts, she wasn’t sa i ed.

And as she drags he self over, she feels som one mo ing b neath her.

“Huh?”

She grunts and shoves he self fu ther, ma sive hind-legs strai ing to hoist her

eno mous frame into the air. F na ly, she frees he self from the sha low pit into which

she had sunk, and som one takes a mighty gasp.

“It’s your sto ach!” cries a voice. “That’s the a swer! It has to be!”

Nikkia stares down at the su vivor for a m ment, her lips dra ging along her glis-

te ing chops. He’d make for a nice dessert…

“Was that you? Cas ing that spell and mel ing them all?”

A shee ish nod fo lows.

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 “Well, look, you’re right about the ri dle, but ho es ly, I’d let you go an way. That

was great.”

The no ding gets more e th s a tic.

“Can you bring more — U RRPH HH”

The tra tor is trea ed to a sho er of slimy bones and gol en tri kets…and to the

sight of her lu cious curves. Her paunch, her thighs, her breasts, all qui e ing u der

the force of that belch…

“— more pe ple next time, though? Hey, you’re li te ing, right?”

More no ding.

The sphinx would be ea ing well this se son.

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