Pain. Suffering. Gluttonous rapture. What feelings were more primal, more sickly sweet than this? Such decadence few souls ever got the chance to experience. How sour was the tang of spine-tingly agony, how bitter the bite of impending doom? Such divine flavors soaked into Barbara's taste buds, but no. They drenched her very being, baked into her bones like an eternity-and-a-day trapped in the Infernium.

Most Creatures of Leng would give their right arm to feel this way.

Problem was, Nightmares couldn't feed off their own pain. It'd be like eating your own foot. It might stave off starvation, but you still burned the candle at both ends.

"I feel sick..." muttered Barbara, clutching a hand over her mouth.

Inside the hybrid's gigantic gut, which made elephants look small, dozens of customers squirmed fitfully in a conga-line of pleasure. From end-to-end, they filled the stomach, intestines, the entire digestive tract. Barbara's butt still stung from the maniacs who crammed themselves up that plump booty, and her throat itched from the people shifting up-and-down the tight tunnel.

Every few minutes, Barbara belched up pants, T-shirts, wallets. Whatever the customers carried on their persons. The floor of Sinful Selections was littered with saliva-soaked debris, surrounding Barbara in half-digested junk.

Bit-by-bit, the pressure that crammed Barbara's insides grew lighter. Her body worked overtime like an industrial machine, crushing and glorping prey as fast as lightning. Trillions of calories flooded her system, further fueling digestion. Whatever wasn't burned like coal in a furnace was packed onto Barbara's curves. Steadily, her hips grew round and humungous, making her white robes creak, and her chest swelled like balloons with water, round, hefty, and beautiful.

But there was always more prey. More meat to melt, to grind into paste. It'd take days to digest everything. And in the meantime, Barbara would remain pinned to the floor, a mammoth mountain of decadence. Unless she was rolled out of sight, Sinful Selections would need to close. Their business. The clearance sale!

"Where's Nol when I need them?" moaned Barbara, feeling spent beyond belief. She felt like a living beehive, crammed with fuzzy critters that squirmed about madly, driven by instinct. With another uuuuuuuuuuuuuuuurrrrpp, she spat out someone's wedding ring. The bluish glow of hypnotized eyes shone from the back of her throat before Barbara snapped her mouth shut again. "This wouldn't have happened if they were here..."

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A short comic that  ruler101 and I commissioned a few months back, shortly after "Fool's Magic" was complete. Barbara was still fresh on our minds, and how could we resist creating more content about our favorite Nightmare? Luckily, it was around this time Ruler101 found AgentV, and after a few conversations, this comic was born.

As a change of pace, I segmented the release of this comic. One page released every day from 11/13 to 11/17/2024. This gave me more time to edit the drabbles, so every page got the attention it deserved. I have no clue how much time AgentV poured into this comic, but nothing short of a full-blown story could match it, and it felt undignified to give the drabble any less time and love.

That said, I was honestly tempted to leave this page alone. A picture really says a thousand words, and it felt best to give Barbara some dignity. Buuut leaving off in silence felt wrong too, so I wrote just a smattering of a drabble. Hopefully it's a good middle ground!

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Art by the amazingly affable  agentv
Barbara belongs to  ruler101
Rest in peace, all the unseen OCs who valiantly perished to feed this tragic Nightmare

Spider8Fiend: Feel free to share whatever comments you have in mind! If you have any criticism to offer, however, please try to make it constructive. If you have a lot to say, feel free to PM me as well so the comment section doesn't get too full~

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