"MANEATER TO SOUTH POLE", the headline read. "Angela Robbins, the high schooler who pleaded guilty to involuntary manslaughter earlier this year, will be sent to the Naval Antarctic Research Station as part of her sentence, which includes 30 years of service. The naval base was chosen by the court for its remote location and small staff contingent, both to reduce the chance of future victims and to protect the convicted from potential public retaliation for her very special case.
 
"Robbins submitted to trial without jury after the judge advised her that the details of her case would be unlikely to provide a fair selection of jurors. That didn't prevent the ensuing media circus when the details of her case became public. Robbins had reported to St. John's Samaritan Hospital that her vagina unwillingly 'ate' boyfriend Chris Jones, and the world was shocked when hospital surgeons announced they had successfully extracted the partially-digested remains of the boy from Robbins' stomach. Robbins, an orphan, will spend the next five years in seclusion at the Antarctic base, where gynecologist Jean Zylweiger will also take up residence to study her unique condition."
 
Edgar (Ensign Edgar Williams, if you were to use rank, which members of the NARS rarely did) put down the paper. It was several weeks old, and he had read the article already online; as with all the publications the base received, the hardcopy was mainly a formality. More importantly, it was almost time; their maneating new charge was due to arrive any minute. In fact, no sooner had Edgar set aside the paper than Colonel Knight knocked on the aluminum door to the combination kitchen/mess room. "The ship's in," the Colonel said matter-of-factly, and vanished around the corner. Edgar righted himself and strode out of the little research station.
 
A short snowmobile ride away, they met up with the crew of the cargo ship. In the piercing Antarctic sunlight, Edgar had to squint to make out the name of the ship, and even then, before he got a chance to read it, the Colonel had him loading new supplies into the back of their mobile. Only after all the material goods had been exchanged did the base and the ship exchange personnel. Lieutenant Junior Sandoval left the base on an extended leave to see his family and present on his research at the base, while the gynecologist and finally her newsworthy charge unboarded the ship to join Edgar and Knight. Zylweiger had little luggage, Robbins even less, Edgar noted, as he stuffed their things on the snowmobile. Shortly thereafter, the icebreaker's captain took his due and the NARS's new four members began their ride back to the station.
 
Edgar was an expert on ice floes, not women, but even in her padded winter wear, he could see that the little maneater was one hell of a looker. Strands of hair caught the sun as they flickered over her fine features, a downcast look clouding her face but not concealing the delicate eyelashes and full lips; neither could the ski jacket entirely conceal the voluptuous figure within. Zylweiger herself was quite the catch, tall and sharp-eyed with raven-black hair and a firm handshake, but Edgar happened to know through the grapevine that she had a partner at home, and it was a woman besides.
 
No one spoke much until they'd gotten back to the station, at which point the Colonel entrusted Zylweiger and the girl to help carry things inside, and they set up shop in the small base.
 
"Alright, now that we're here, it's time to get a couple things straight," the old man began. "Edgar and I are here to do geographic and environmental research, and to maintain a presence at this location. The two of you are here to get away from a nosy public, but you are also here to assist in our research. I will be putting you to use as soon as you're settled in, if not sooner. Ms. Zylweiger, you're welcome to work on your own research, but I'm sorry to inform you that we probably don't have access to all the tools you'd like at this base, and that's unlikely to change in the near future.
 
"And, Edgar, in addition to your normal duties, I'm putting you in charge of educating Miss Robbins. The court ruled that she has a right to finish her high school education, so you will follow a strict lesson plan until you feel ready to administer a corresponding exam, and then continue tutoring Miss Robbins so long as she expresses a desire for higher education."
 
Edgar had been flabbergasted some weeks earlier when the Colonel had first landed this responsibility on him, but he'd since come to terms with it, and the lesson plan the Colonel mentioned was already outlined based on profiles of Angela's performance on standardized testing. He nodded in assent. His charge, on the other hand, was less than collected on the subject.
 
"I thought Jean was going to continue my tutoring." she said sourly. "And stop calling me Miss Robbins. My name's Angie."
 
"The NARS is a family, and in order to ensure proper communication among all members of that family, I've moved that burden to Edgar here. Ms. Zylweiger has her own concerns to worry about with getting used to this base. And on that subject, it's time I showed you around."
 
The NARS was not a large station. It consisted of an entrance chamber (for better insulation), a central kitchen with a single folding table in the middle, a lab area connected to the kitchen, and a hallway branching into three crew quarters and a tiny restroom with an upright shower. Most of the base was solar-powered, owing to the long resupply cycles, and outside a number of shelves held collections ice cores and other samples. Angie fidgeted awkwardly as the captain explained sleeping arrangements.
 
"Ms. Zylweiger will take over the room Jason recently vacated. I'll maintain my quarters, and Edgar has graciously volunteered to sleep in the kitchen for a few months until we rotate. Miss R-- Angie, will take Edgar's room, and according to the sanctions required by the court, will be locked in isolation at night. Be sure to go to the bathroom before bed because you won't be permitted to leave the room under any circumstances during sleeping hours. Nights are short here, so I intend to maintain this rule ironclad. I'll be locking and unlocking your room myself." With that, the colonel slapped a hand on the material that they had brought in from the shipment. "That is all."
 
Thus isolation began.
 
* * *
 
Edgar was able to settle into his new routine with surprising ease. Angie was a bright girl, smarter than her test scores would suggest, and she even showed occasional interest in his research. Nonetheless, her mood remained downcast most of the time, and without Jason around, the station was somewhat lonely. Zylweiger remained aloof, hardly interacting with Edgar more than she needed to, and she never spoke to him about the studies she performed on Angie or the results. He figured this was probably a good choice in the name of privacy, though it left him rather out of the loop. Angie herself usually didn't comment on the checkups, but Edgar gleaned from her attitude that she was getting sick of the gynecologist after a while. His research was coming along fine, his map of the local ice sheets' paleogeography filling out piece by piece.
 
Not everything went so smoothly, though. The third day on the station, Edgar had returned from collecting samples to a strange scene. It seemed Jean had stepped outside to enjoy a smoke (her supply of cigarettes soon to be exhausted), leaving the girl to her own devices. When Edgar entered, he clearly heard running water from the restroom, and found Angie sitting under the showerhead, completely nude with the door wide open.
 
"What's going on?" Edgar asked, trying to look away in courtesy. He'd already seen a startling amount. The girl's body seemed fresh and healthy, her smoothly toned skin dripping wet, full breasts pressed close to her body. The one exception was the massive scar that ran up her abdomen, proof of the incision they'd made into her belly. Edgar wasn't sure if the lack of pubic hair was a choice or biological happenstance.
 
"Nothing. Just taking a shower," she retorted.
 
"You should shut the door. Get some privacy."
 
"I don't have such a thing as privacy. Anyone in the world can see all the pictures of my parts just by doing a simple internet search. My pussy's gone public domain." Her voice trailed off, getting increasingly difficult to hear.
 
Edgar didn't have an answer to this. He pursed his lips, recalling his own abysmal record at cheering up depressed females. Nevermind a repentant freak-of-nature who'd lost her best friend. He quietly shut the door, and said nothing about the situation.
 
Not that he needed to; Angie showering with the door open was a standard occurrence, and after failing to convince the girl to do otherwise, Jean eventually took to closing the door herself. Still, from time to time the girl would wander in there when Zylweiger was out, which was often enough that the Colonel complained about wasting their hot water. After a while, the sight of her knockout body was so familiar that Edgar didn't bother to close the door, and if he found her there, he would listen to Angie's complaints quietly.
 
"You know I've been abandoned by my parents twice?" she said to him one time. "My first parents, when I was born. I never even know them. But my foster parents raised me for damn near eighteen years, and disowned me the moment I had a problem. I guess they didn't want to be associated with an inhuman monster, so they just changed their names and vanished. Figures. Chris had liked them, too, before he... before I..."
 
Another time she pointed to her scar, tracing the line sensuously up and down her stomach. "At first I was worried, you know? About what would happen to him. But I never really thought felt like I'd lost him until they cut him out. It was like... you know, he was with me. And then suddenly he wasn't, I just had this aching void and a bunch of stitches. Sometimes I wish I'd just never told anyone what happened. They might never have figured it out."
 
Little by little, Edgar felt a real compassion for for Angie build up within him. She scared him, a little, but the pathos of her unique situation affected him deeper. And much as he tried to fight the idea, at night images of her sensuous body entered his mind unbidden and refused to leave.
 
Things started really going downhill when the Colonel fell ill. It was "just a fever" one morning, but when it continued into the next few, keeping him bedridden all the while, and the antibiotics they had with them saw no effect, things got serious. The next supply ship wasn't due for another couple months; they could call in an emergency medical evacuation, but there would be no staff to replace the Colonel and no way he could return to duty for months if they did. Knight offered to fight the illness of his own will for several days, until Zylweiger (not a general practice doctor but close enough) told him he had pneumonia and finally he agreed to be lifted out by helicopter. In the meantime, Angie's door went unlocked at night.
 
Meanwhile, Angie and her doctor grew less and less cordial. Jean stopped offering to help Edgar with his ice cores; Angie gave her cold looks whenever she passed by during tutoring. The station completely ceased to operate as a family. One morning, Edgar woke late to the sounds of shouting back and forth from the girl's (formerly his) room; he did his best not to make out the details. Not long thereafter, Jean stormed out, nearly ripping the base's front door off the hinges on her way out. "If you won't open up for me, then I have no more work to do here," she'd said. Angie leaned head out of the room with a complicated expression on her face, but said nothing.
 
After a few seconds of just sitting there, trying and failing to concentrate on work, Edgar walked over and knocked on Angie's door. Two tense heartbeats followed. Three. Then a creak, an opening of the door. A sweet, sensitive face, visibly hoping to see Edgar, not Zylweiger; relief. "I just... I just wanted to let you know, I support you," he said, patting her gently on the shoulder. "Whatever you've done or will do, I know that you're a caring, honest, good-hearted girl. And if --"
 
Before he could say any more, she pulled him closer in a hug. It was a fierce hug, a bear squeeze filled with the girl's -- nay, young woman's -- resolve. She looked him in the eyes, then closed them and leaned in. Without needing to think about it, Edgar returned the kiss. Soft lips pressed, he tasted her breath, a mix of savory musk and sweet fruit. When they parted, Edgar knew that he was in deep. Those liquid crystal eyes showed him all he needed to know.
 
"I'll be going out to gather samples now. I have to work while the day is still bright. I'll, uh... probably be a while."
 
Angie nodded wordlessly, and slowly released him from her bear hug. Edgar stepped away, slowly at first, then almost breaking into a run as he grabbed his things and opened the door to the outside. As he was jetting away on one of the base's snowmobiles, he spotted Zylweiger a short walk away from the base, staring at the horizon with a cigarette in hand. Edgar made sure not to make eye contact as he sped off.
 
* * *
 
Angie greeted Jean Zylweiger at the door when the gynecologist returned from her smoke. "So," the older woman said.
 
"So."
 
"Look. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have been so harsh on you. I know you cared deeply about your... late... boyfriend..." Jean started. She was less than contrite.
 
"I still do. But I'm sorry I reacted so badly. You were just trying to do your job," Angie replied. Zylweiger nodded, so she continued. "I finally decided, though. I'll go along with you, help you with this. It's for my good as well."
 
"You'll... open up for me?"
 
"Yes." A shiver passed through both of them. Zylweiger wrote it off as Antarctic cold; Angie knew better. "Do you want to start immediately?"
 
"Let's do that," the lady doctor agreed, obviously thinking, "...before you change your mind." But Angie didn't take offense. That suited her fine. She led Jean back to the bedroom they'd shared for the last several weeks. Zylweiger shut the door behind her.
 
"I guess let's get started as usual. Undress for me, please," Jean instructed.
 
Angie began to comply, by removing her outer jacket first; the thermostat in this room was kept especially high for this reason. "I'd feel more comfortable if you did as well," she said carefully. "It's only fair, right?"
 
Jean sighed. "If it'll get you to show your abilities, then it's worth it. Besides, it's stuffy in here." She likewise threw aside her jacket and outer pants.
 
Angie made sure to undress slowly, forcing Jean to keep pace. She wryly sized up the other woman's body, wondering if she should be envious of Jean's voluptuous figure. In her mind, she doubted whether the vagina that had swallowed up Chris would really stretch to engulf another human being again. But deep down, as the thought permeated her mind, she felt the itch and she knew it would. It was more than ready.
 
When finally the two women were both nude, Angie lay back on the bed and spread her legs apart, affording Jean a deep view of her moistened crotch. The swollen pink lips tingled with anticipation. Jean knelt between the two outstretched legs and examined it. "Just like always; seemingly normal," she remarked as much to herself as to the girl. Tenderly, her hands reached forward and probed Angie's slit. Angie gnawed on her bottom lip to hold back as the cool fingertips slid into her steaming hot opening. Slowly but surely, the hands invaded her inner territory and spread it open to see. Jean gasped in surprise as her hands reached five, six, eight inches apart. Angie choked back plaintive whines. "Amazing," the dark-haired woman remarked. Her face pressed closer to the moist opening to see how far back the passage opened.
 
That was when Angie made her move. Simultaneously, she pushed her feet against Jean's back while bucking her hips toward Jean's face. The sudden movement caught Jean off-balance, and she tilted forward, her hands advancing to be forearm-deep in Angie's pussy. Jean just barely held her head away from the gaping hole, which now smelled strongly of syrupy sweat. Angie could contain herself no longer and moaned wildly in ecstasy.
 
"What are you doing?!" Jean was frantic. "This isn't helping! You might even..." She bucked against Angie's legs, trying to loosen herself from the girl's grip. But she gained no ground, and landed farther forward, her arms being slurped up to the elbow and her face coming nearly into contact with Angie's soft inner flesh. "... you planned this, didn't you? You sick monster, you're going to try to eat me?! You b--" The rest of her words were lost into blubbering and gasping as Angie bucked again, and her nethers eagerly gobbled up Jean's face. She gasped in overwhelming pleasure as the line of Jean's skull and upper arms pushed up through her opening. The doctor was fighting for her life now, trying to kick or pry her way out, but with her hands and head pinned inside Angie's love canal, leverage was on Angie's side. Angie's eyes squeezed shut as her prey's violent thrashing tossed her against the bed, but her pussy's progress squeezed ever farther down Jean's body. The woman's big, round breasts squished away from the oncoming labia until they could stretch no longer. Angie yelled at the top of her lungs as her lower half spread even wider to accommodate them. After that, the rest of her ribcage pushed rapidly inside, and Angie slowed to catch her breath as her swallowing reached Jean's waistline.
 
As if sensing Angie's tiredness, Jean redoubled her struggles, twisting with her legs side to side. The wild motions set Angie over the edge, and she reached her first climax. The tension of her subsequent contraction knocked the wind out of her live meal, and Jean's efforts began flagging. Angie, now moving on instinct alone, hooked her feet around Jean's knees and forcibly thrust her bottom back and up, lifting Jean's legs into the air. The whole room rattled from the force of the bed's shaking, and more and more of Jean began to descend into Angie's wide-open vagina.
 
Before long, Angie's cunt had worked its way up past the width of Jean's hips; from there, it was all downhill. She squeezed Jean's legs together, as gravity did its work and sank the remainder of the woman's body into her waiting chamber. The thighs gave way to the knees, and by the time Jean's ankles acquiesced to the pussy's gorging, her struggles had subsided to merely squirming uncomfortably. At last, Angie's sopping vulva sealed shut over Jean's toes, and she could lie back again. The humongous form of her full stomach rippled and rolled satisfyingly, and she sighed with deep relief. Consequences come what may, she had done it.
 
As she rested and reveled in victory, Angie could faintly hear a bitter and exhausted voice from inside her belly. "This is murder," it seemed to say.
 
"This... is who I am," she replied. "And you... deserved it."
 
* * *