The signs had told Bug that she was not allowed to bring outside food into the cinema, but that hadn’t stopped the slate snarfer from snagging a snack. The grey glutton simply refusing to pay the overpriced rates for popcorn when she had gone to see the film adaptation of Daring Do and the Marked Thief of Marapore, but it hadn’t been hard for her to find something to fill her up during the screening. The dour devourer taking advantage of the mostly empty theatre that came with a later viewing, as it allowed her to avoid the crowds and bolt down some bratty bitch who was just getting off shift.

The unsuspecting Juniper Montage the ideal substitute for exorbitant fare at the concession stand the woman had been manning a few minutes prior. She had just gotten out of her uniform and slipped into her street clothes, only to feel a pair of firm hands grab her before a second later her head was rudely shoved into the wet darkness of Bug’s salivating mouth. Her face slipping into the damp gullet with a single lurching gulp, as in a matter of moments she was reduced to a bundled-up bulge writhing in another woman’s middle. Juniper barely able to let out a stifled yelp before she was bunched up within the churning pocket of the sweltering stomach, barely able to move let alone struggle. A reassuring hand caressing over her back through the thin separation of skin and muscle encapsulating her, seeming to savour her trapped twitches, as Juniper was forced to soak in the sour secretions that she had been slathered in during her unceremonious egress down the oesophagus.

The stomach surrounding her like a skintight seal, kneading against her flesh with a string of soggy squishes and undulating squeezes, that seemed to be forcing her into an ever-tightening ball of wriggling female flesh. She tried to kick, but for the marinating woman it amounted to merely a meek quiver,  she simply couldn’t move within the claustrophobic confines she had been crammed into.  Juniper could feel the slight waddling list of the person who had eaten her sauntering off, as each step caused the pooling gastric juices to slosh against her body with a bitter splash. The worst part was there was no taunting, no mocking of her feeble attempts to fight back, her muffled mewling, only a satisfied silence punctuated with a periodic belch, as Juniper was treated no differently than eaten food, which was all she was now.

Bug just ignoring the stifled complaints of her bleating meal fighting for their life within her,  as she just took her seat, relaxed and enjoyed the movie, whilst all the while a worming woman slowly digested on her lap. At some point, Juniper stopped moving, and from there she was just a liquidating lump of lady lunchmeat slowly melting away into a creamy chyme. The dissolving dollop of deadweight the Juniper-sized swelling made losing its shape and starting to shrink before long, which apart from a periodic rub, went unnoticed by the engorging woman’s distracted devourer. By the time the credits started to roll, the defined protrusion had gradually deflated into a pudgy potbelly and a gurgling slurry seeping through Bug’s intestines towards the rectum where it would be reconstituted into the gray glutton’s next dump.  

Most of the wolfed-down woman now just a pulped puree pushing towards Bug’s pucker, but from here it would still take a few more hours to finish baking Juniper into a bowel movement. Bug just casually cradling her doughy middle, as she made her way home, happy with what she had seen, as though it had been a little cliché, the translation to the big screen had been an overall good reflection on the best-selling book that had inspired it. A stale Juniper-flavoured burp bubbling up Bug’s throat as she closed the front door and kicked off her shoes, reminding her of her little peckish partaking during the preshow, prompting the slate snarfer to tense her tummy and give a practised retch.

A rehearsed convulsion cramping in her core, before with a wet hock, she felt something shift in her stomach as she regurgitated a grotty bolus of clothing and hair. The compacted pellet gliding up her gullet with a strong heave, lubricated by a greasy glazing of gut phlegm and spittle, as Bug rid herself of the football-sized mass that had been bloating her belly. The messy mass striking the floor with a moist splat, as yet again Bug’s guts had proven proficient in segregating Juniper’s more useful components from the indigestible chaff. The rest of the woman now just fat on Bug’s buxom figure, or a congealing curry that would soon be a building pressure in her colon, as Bug didn’t even bat an eye at what she had just coughed up, like a smug cat that had just cleared a hairball.  Bug nonchalantly picking up the codensed remains of Juniper’s ensemble, before tossing the tangled-up outfit in her kitchen bin like a discarded wrapper and knocked on the hot water for an hour, as she wanted to have a nice hot shower and see where her most recent impromptu indulgence had padded out her already plump proportions….

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Going to the theatre to see the latest Daring Do movie, Bug decides to score a snack before finding her seat. The grey glutton enjoying the film, but at some point she has to hack up the indigestibles from her little indulgence of filling female flesh...

My one-hundred-and-sixty-third sketch from  Silent_E 's patreon. This one features Bug regurgitating the more indigestible parts of Juniper Montage...


This image of Bug hocking up what's left of Juniper was kindly coloured by my friend  plaguetyranno .

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