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Brutal Buissness By doomfister -- Report

“So your own gang sold you out, that’s a bit rough, but did you really expect anything less from your conniving compatriots as you know as much as I do that there is no honour among thieves once a little monetary motivation is on the table. At least the uneducated rabble that had been your former friends had the sense to cash in your bounty and leave you in my hospitable care instead of dead in a ditch by the side of the road like a dog,” enunciated a refined voice that reeked of a private education, as the words were practically dripping with condescension as he addressed his captive audience. The woman gagged and bound before him a niggling thorn in his side, as she had a well-earned reputation of being a fiend in the shadows, of course, it was now hard to see how she had earned such a moniker as she sat shackled before him on a literal silver platter. The proud gutter wench powerless, as now she was just a future foodstuff and a reminder to the plebians on why it was a folly to try and rob from their betters. She should have known better then to cross the Baron, but evidently stupidity ran in her family, and he saw it his civic duty to remove such dire genetics from the gene pool, especially if the troublemaker was flavoured to his liking.

The gloating lion smirking in smug security of his victory, as he looked down upon his dinner as the wriggling rodent sat spruced up and spiced like a cooked sow, unable to do much more than listen to his monologue as she lay marinating in a sauce of seasoned honey and her own pooling sweat as she squirmed against the rawhide rope restricting her lean limbs. The fettered doe twitching in a perpetual fidget as she tested the knots as her captor ran his pompous mouth. Instead of feeding his ego, she chose to ignore his prattle, spitting her own muffled obscenities into her gag, as she set her mind to the more important task of escaping her restraints and then fleeing this posh pillock’s lavish manor, as she had no intentions of staying for dinner she had been laid out for.

“You should listen more Constance, if you had you might not have ended up the property of the lord you tried to swindle, as if you honestly thought you could out run my family’s deep pockets,” he chided, relishing the stupidity of the mammalian morsel before him, as he reminded her of her place like someone grinding out a smouldering cigarette butt upon the cobblestones. The words causing the tawny rodent to abruptly tense in her bonds, her anus tightening at the whiff of her full name, as if it were trying to pinch off the carrot that a servant had rudely rammed up her rectum as she had been dressed up to dine. The feline now having her full attention, as she shot her new “owner” a look of searing hate, completely refused to accept her helplessness as she glared back at him with all the ferocity of a snarling dog. Connie’s aquamarine eyes burning with resistance, as she refused to accept the reality of the situation as at this point, she was now little different than the chattel that traded from hands to stomachs at the meat market.

“If you had paid attention Constance, you wouldn’t now be sitting in the same tray your sister found herself in when she found out the hard way what happens to those who wrong the house of Löwe,” he continued rubbing salt in the wound as he knew he had hit a nerve and capitalized on it, as any shrewd businessman should. The lion fully aware how much Connie hated her full given name, as it was but one of many juicy details her treacherous tribe had divulged when they had cashed in their leader for her weight in gold. The transaction going as smoothly as a steamer buying coal, as the only real argument was if the worming woman should be stripped before weighing as his quartermaster attempted to shave a couple of pounds off the overall payment. Ever the diplomat the Baron had agreed to their terms for her price to include the weight of her wrapper, as he would not let some coppers hold up a sovereign, as they bartered over the fuming female like she was a piece of desirable venison.

In the end, a price was settled, and though the expense may have been dire to some lesser knight, to the Baron it was simply change in his family coffers, especially in regard to sending a clear message to potential criminals that undermining the gilded Löwe estate and holdings were more trouble than it was worth. Because of this perceived satisfaction of honour, he could not help but smile as he saw the second utterance leave Connie’s clawing hands grasping the air in frustration as her wrists set nestled in the small of her back, unable to do anything but clank against the tight clasps constricting them. Each motion reminding him that the bitch had cost him a lot of capital with her dishonest schemes, and he was very much pleased that her band of miscreants had more seen reason and had the common sense to abandon ship and cash in their bucktoothed boss’s bounty when it became clear that Connie’s current course of action only had a suicidal trajectory. There were probably a few hold outs who dogged loyalty persisted, but they would likely be found floating face down in the river for their foolish faithfulness in the coming days. Some no doubt made causalities as they squabbled over who got the lions share of their prize pool, likely resolving their disputes with the business end of a dirk hastily pulled from a frog in a brutish way that the lion would never understand, as such things seemingly stemmed from the demented desperation that was the shared psychosis of the impoverished masses.

Such loose ends could wait though, as for the time being, he was happy to take his time with his shapely supper, as just from a glance Connie shared the same eye-pleasing build of her long since digested sister. The rodent likely as cunning as she was beautiful, and her parcelled frame was oddly nostalgic as he assumed, she would taste just the same as her sweet sibling when he began to reclaim his recompense in full. The Baron a bailiff who was going to enjoy this premium package of fresh female flesh as he forced Connie to repay the reparations of her theft in full, as the feline took her entirety as collateral for her laundry list of crimes. Connie visibly shivering as she felt his raspy tongue almost tentatively glide over her nape as he got the first taste of her natural hues, purring approvingly as he mulled it upon his palate as though the woman was a wine. Connie letting out an objecting huff from the violating intimacy, but with her body buckled down, she could do little more to protest her predicament.

"If it was the feasting season, I might have the boys rub your rubber down a bit first, let the spilt slide up your arse nice and easy, but I would rather keep this as a quiet affair, as to be frank you are not worth the time of being the centrepiece on my dinner table, so I ordered you basted and bound," he said casually, as he flexed his full control of her fate. He could have had her raped, flayed alive, drawn, and quartered and any other myriad of tortures, but most left a mess so he would much prefer the clean consumption over such deprived expressions of extreme violence. His hand coming to her face, her body trying to retreat as he gave her a soothing stroke and surprisingly, gently extracted the gold earring from her right ear. Connie growling almost animalistically through her gag at the unwanted contact as the cat stole her glimmering accessory, unable to do much more than continue to tenaciously writhe as though it would do anything more than mean she would die tired.

“A tip for my cook, just from the smell and that small sample I can tell you're going to be a dining masterpiece, as normal he has outdone himself.” expressed the Baron as he put the shining piercing on the table and turned his attention back to his gurning guest.

“Now then Constance, with the pleasantries out of the way its time to get rid of you,” he continued concisely as grasped the rat firmly by her slender shoulders and pulled her towards him. His next actions calculated and predatory, as with the one-sided conversation over he just took her as there was nothing left to say. The Baron always remembering what his father had said regarding the joy of hiring rats when talking about this taboo topic, as they were small enough to swallow once they outlived their usefulness, or in this case, needed to disappear. The rat’s resolute face morphing through the motions of confusion before settling on fear as she realized exactly what was about to happen as a dark tunnel loomed before her.

Connie’s scowling expression widening in horror, as the toothy maw of her devourer gently widens over her head like a moist death mask. The slick interior conforming to her svelte features in a skin-tight grip, that rippled over her with a securing swallow as she was drawn into the inky abyss with a confident gulp. The oral orifice easily easing ajar to accommodate her in a yawning gape as the hapless Connie’s button nose pushed the uvula aside as she began to curl around the bend of the back of the throat. The baron practically inhaling her as she oozed into him in a tugging series of peristaltic pulls that moved over the rat’s body in a sequence of cradling compressions which matched every curve with its crushing caress.

Her shoulders slotting between the corners of the Baron's mouth and soon his tongue was lathering her breasts, as the rough muscle callously explored the fatty fixtures. The tip teasing the nipples, as the Baron took his time in the moment as he sucked the teats as though they were cream glazed cherries, as he fully experienced the ogleable orbs. The adipose padding the pliable pillows of lewd lunchmeat offering just the right amount of resistance as he ground them against his tongue in a groping kneading. His drooling maw washing away her sugar coating and soon he was wandering down her chest in a chugging rhythm to waggling hips as he enjoyed every inch of her downy fur as it was matted down by the copious amount of lukewarm spittle leaking from his stimulated saliva glands.

The rat meeping out stifled yelps as she sank ever deeper, and the Baron knew from past experience her vocalizations would only grow more dire once her head nuzzled its way through stretchy stomach sphincter. She had a good survival instinct, he could tell, most gangers were scrappers by nature, and it meant that Connie would give him quite a show in the short time before she suffocated in his soon to be swollen stomach. her hands continuing to bumble and buck as his lapping lips edged their way to her wrists and he paused for a moment to daintily remove the indigestible steel shackles confining the clamouring mitts. The cold steel falling away with a clunk as it impacted the floor as all the while Connie’s fingers flailed blindly like a snared animal, before with the next swallow they were tucked between the teeth and the claustrophobic confines stilled them as they were sent on their way down the lion’s undulating gullet.

Her delightful derrière following soon after, though the widening of her hips did little to slow his pulsating progress. His hands coming to her rump spreading the cheeks as he rotated the bubbly buttocks like butter as he left the rubbery rear jiggling from his powerful pawing. The performance comparable to her sister, as the cheeks clapped like waves against the shore though some of the nuanced flavours of his mewling meal differed from his previous conquest they were clearly cut from the same cloth. The shared seed strong, as the whore who had mixed the coital dough two decades prior had done an admirable job baking with such limited ingredients, though the baron doubted she expected that her daughters would end up as mature marbled meat on a dinner table in the presence of nobility when it was their turn to check out of the mortal coil.

The lion pondering the morbid thought, before putting a finger to the carrot protruding from her rear port and applied a soft pressure as he forced the orange root deeper into her straining shit chute, allowing her tailhole to quiver closed so it could suckle on the stem like a distraught child might its thumb. Connie’s tail trying to push down to prevent this perverse penetration from transitioning any deeper, but the spindly limb could do nothing to prevent the root vegetable from docking deeper into her billowing lower bowel. The sensation almost like a teasing echo of the literal spit roasting the Baron had proposed earlier, but the distraught damsel was too caught up in the smothering slaps buffeting her face in squelching smacks to focus on the punishing parting of her pucker. The next rolling swallow pushing the toned glutes together narrowing the cleft of the crack, forcing the carrot even deeper as it recoiled from the cushioned collision of the two meaty mounds as the Baron worked the buttocks like batter.

The beefy buns easily surmounted once the lion was done playing with them and with a coursing chug the twin peaks were rolled flat and reduced to just another dull lump languishing down the Baron’s throat. The true terror of the situation apparent to Connie at his point as her panicked form fell at a snail's stride on a collision course to the waiting stomach somewhere in the black void before her. She was going to die, she knew that now, even if she had not yet come to terms with it, as she stubbornly clang onto hope that she would get out of this in a way that did not involve a tour of the manor’s plumbing. The doe kidding herself as her destiny was long since sealed and it was almost a guaranteed that her last moments would be just like countless others. The Baron sleeping off a hearty meal before her residual remains would be shoved unceremoniously out of Baron’s arsehole, his tight sphincter the last contact with another person Connie would ever have before she fell away with a splat in a chamber pot like any other bowel movement….

Such delusions of survival impossible to maintain at the rate she was being ingested, as the Baron was effortlessly eating her like any other dinner dish, and soon the rat felt the belt restraining her thighs unbuckle and just like her wrist restraints it fell away leaving the rat to shiver in the fading shadow of its reassuring influence. The Baron taking the tail end of his meal at a faster pace as he had already hurdled over the fun parts Connie had to offer, and he just leaned back and allowed gravity to flow her flinching lower half into his waiting embrace. The woman falling in slow motion, as she floundered down the throat in a single coasting glide as the rat’s own weight carried her to oblivion as she was forced to curl up behind his sturdy sternum.

Her body rapidly tapering as her thighs, calves and ankles descended into his humid depths as he savoured the lingering limbs in a prolonged slurp. The steamy creep crawling up her legs like inverted tights, as soon only her crinkling soles, pointed toes and whipping naked tail remained framed between pearly white teeth as they fumbled fleetingly against the pale interior of the man’s maw. All the stress reflected in a fumbling flurry as Connie expressed herself in the limited range of motion as her flinching feet just like the rest of her previously was soaked by the crackling strands of saliva as they were greased in a glistening glazing ready for a streamlined departure. The lingering extremities wafting weakly in a fumbling flurry, as though they were waving goodbye as even now Connie was trying to find some sort of handhold to prevent her careening over the precipice in a headfirst crash to the caustic cavern below. The consumption concluding with a clear crisp swallow, as the fanning toes succulently slipped over the lips to the tune of a sodden slurped. The woman shuddering as she was entombed within the claggy sarcophagus of the throat as was forced to capitulate to the more powerful biology, as the convulsion cascaded to the tip of her twitching tail as it gradually grew shorter as it trickled in the vacuum of Connie’s slipstream.

The rodent wasn’t a big woman, then again, most rats weren’t compared to the lion’s stock build, and once she was tucked away to stew, she barely made a bulge when she came to a rest in his bloated belly as little more than a lively lump of bumbling activity. Connie’s jostling body harmlessly bouncing against the sturdy bone cage surrounding her in a tickling tic, as the spongy biology encapsulating her absorbed any of her struggles as little more than jittering jerks that were hardly discernible through the Baron’s now more rounded middle. The scrunched-up simulacrum of what had been a woman roughly contorted into a subdued seated position that slowly bled into a fetal position as the stomach clamped down to contain its quarry. The rat continuing to jerk and jolt in the darkness, as the pooling acids began to soak into her tender hide sprinkling a healthy dose of desperation to her struggles.

The baron just letting out a satisfied sigh as he felt his supper settle, his hand cradling his protruding midriff like an expected mother as he waited for the motions within to subside so he could properly process his vanquished opponent. The rat outmatched from the start, and it had been an inevitability that he would be sleeping her off when she became a persistent problem for his normally well-oiled operations. The audacity commendable, but it had sealed her fate, as such unmitigated gall could not be allowed to persist lest it spread like a cancer, and now the only question left was whether to end her with a burp or enjoy the feeling of her body buck once the bones started breaking when his gut got heavy-handed for Connie’s frail form to handle. The Baron’s troubles melted away by the skilled masseuse that was his gastric tract as it geared up to silence the soon to be digested dissenter who was for the time being jibbering within him. The gurgling groans of digestion already audible and by morning he was sure with this obtuse nail hammered down and the line in the sand reasserted he could get back to business as usual…


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A rat girl finds out the hard way what happens to thieves in the House of coils universe especially if one has the insufferable impetus to rob from one of the noble houses. The roguish rat making the fatal error of robbing a wealthy baron, and well he demanded satisfaction that only her eye-pleasing flesh might quench.

A gift for  narrows in our shared victorian anthro setting. This laid out lunch drawn by the ever-talented  plaguetyranno who captured the shapely serving with their normal flare.

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Comments
SorbetPeony

Posted by SorbetPeony 2 weeks ago Report

WOW! This is so well written

doomfister

Posted by doomfister 2 weeks ago Report

Thank you, I am glad you enjoyed it :)

Narrows

Posted by Narrows 2 weeks ago Report

Once again fantastic work - blending the sexiest, bawdiest of vorish acts with a blend of well written and carefully crafted description. Wonderful work, my friend, you continue to impress!

doomfister

Posted by doomfister 2 weeks ago Report

Glad you liked it bud, cannot go wrong bullying some poor anthro gals ;)

Kapitantorrento

Posted by Kapitantorrento 2 weeks ago Report

it is symbolic that the rat girl was eaten in the ending year of the rat.

doomfister

Posted by doomfister 2 weeks ago Report

Indeed, all I know for a fact is she is not going to be around when the year of the rat rolls back again XD