In the grandest city in the kingdom, gold flowed like wine after the fall of the Demon King, leading to a culture of gross excess. Deep in the furthest reaches of the city's red-light district is a special hotel, for adventurers in the know. To find it, you must find your way through a small labyrinth of hidden alleyways, snaking through the city like a set of intestines. If you manage to find your way through, you will discover The Get-Inn: a bizarre bazaar of everything vore. Here at The Get-Inn, you can experience your wildest fantasies in reality. Want to swim around in the guts of a mermaid? Here’s a snorkel! Want to experience the multiple stomachs of a cow girl? Who wouldn’t?! Want to see the sky from the safety of a bird-girls crotch? Send a picture! At The Get-Inn, there is only one rule: the customer is king. Fatal or non-fatal, humanoid or monster girl, any body type, any position, any hole; we’ve got a succubus for everyone to satisfy any desire that you could imagine (and quite a few more than that)! So step right up, and GET IN!
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
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Ep. 3: The Nasty Noble and a Very Good Girl
 
 
 
 
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The sound of laughter poured out from within the Basted Turkey, an upscale tavern in the commercial district of the city of Plateria. A small group of wealthy nobles had rented the whole place for the entire evening, despite only needing a single table. They had been there for hours, singing, jeering, drinking copiously, and generally making asses of themselves. At the head of the table was a posh looking young noble with perfect, powdered skin and a head of golden hair weaved into intricate curls. He wore a dark brown velvet doublet, with matching cape, and black pants studded with sterling silver emblems. The emblem was also emblazoned across his chest and cape, the house crest of the Connards. He himself was Caleb Corneliu Leopold Aeon Ignatius Pate le Connard IV, or Caleb le Connard for short, eldest son of the house.
 
“Barkeep, bring another round for me and my compatriots, right away! Anyway, sorry, dear Barnaby. Please! Continue your story!” Caleb said, already quite drunk. His portly friend, paused, trying to remember where he had been before being interrupted. Resuming, “Well, the fight was really just spectacular. The mage dueling ring is really just something else, you’ve got to s-”. Caleb once again interrupted, “Mage duels? That’s illegal, were you at the Festival of the Night?” He was eyeing Barnaby scrupulously, when one of his friends cut in, “Aw, come on Caleb. It’s just watching mages blasting each other with fire and lightning and stuff. It’s not like he was doing anything unsavory! Relax, here comes the barkeep with our drinks!”
Grabbing the mug from the barkeep’s tray, Caleb immediately drained half the ale down his throat. “Fine, fine fine. Go on then.” Barnaby was having visible difficulty not becoming annoyed at Caleb’s constant interruptions, but he dared not speak against him. Of all the nobles who had seats on the Royals court, Count Gendo le Connard was among the most influential in the King’s decision making. To insult any of his children could easily have severe consequences, so Barnaby knew better than to call out his friend for his rudeness. He let out a quiet sigh, recentering himself, and continued. “I was saying that you need to see it for yourself. It’s easily the most thrilling thing I’ve ever seen! I can still remember the look on that poor bloke's face as he took that bolt to the back of the head. The other guy used a blink spell to get behind him, the whole match only took but a few seconds!” Caleb drained the rest of his ale, before throwing the mug over his shoulder. “ANOTHER! Alright, I’ll admit I am intrigued. I’ll have to take an excursion there at some point, where is it?”
 
 
Barnaby spent a moment considering where he had been that night, as he had been very drunk, as usual. “Ah, well… It would probably be easier to show you. I know the way, but I don’t think I could give you very good directions. It’s pretty deep inside the Festival, not far from that place where the ‘great’ hero got his.” Barnaby expressed his disdain for Sabir openly, no longer concerned with upsetting that monster, as many nobles did since his disappearance. By destroying the Demon Lord, he had cost the noble families mountains of gold. With the drop off in monster appearances, and in turn, adventuring as a whole, the economy had stagnated. Adventuring, and all the businesses related to it, had all but completely died out. Less business meant less taxes, and nothing was more upsetting to the noble families. Adding insult to injury, the king foolishly awarded the hero an absurd sum of gold from the kingdom’s treasury. Most of the land may have adored the hero, and mourned his disappearance, but the nobles relished it.
 
 
Confused by what he had just heard, Caleb cocked his eye towards his friend. “What do you mean ‘where’ the great hero died? I thought he was still just missing.” His friends exchanged glances, before one of them answered, “Well, it's a pretty common rumor at the Festival. Apparently, Sabir liked to frequent a place called the Get-Inn, and one day he went in and never came back out.” Caleb still did not understand, asking, “Well, why not? What kind of place is it? Is it some sort of battle arena?” His friends stared at him, uncertain as to how to answer. Barnaby leaned over, and whispered in his ear, explaining the type of services that could be found at the Inn. Caleb’s face immediately glowed red with blush, his expression becoming more and more disgusted as his friend spoke. “That is the most vile thing I have ever heard of! Why is such a place allowed to exist within my city? It won’t be for long! Come Barnaby, let’s take a stop over there on the way to see the mages. I think I’ll buy the filthy hovel, and then have it destroyed.”
 
 
The eyes of Caleb’s friends showed their hesitation, as they considered stopping him. Aside from the fact that the Get-Inn had a strong underground following within the Festival, and there would be many who would be angry to see it gone, the place had a reputation for being dangerous. If he stepped inside, he might not come back out. However, the other royals were more frightened of incurring the wrath of the Connards than losing Caleb to unfortunate circumstances, so they kept their mouths shut.
 
 
Caleb stood up from his chair suddenly, ready to leave, and he stood up directly into the barkeep who had been bringing him the drink he had ordered. The ale was knocked from the tray, and spilled across the front of his doublet, laying a stain directly across the Connard family crest. He looked down at his soiled clothing, and then back up at the barkeep, indignant fury in his eyes. “HOW DARE YOU?! Do you know what you’ve just done?! This doublet is worth more than every bottle you have back there! And you ruined it! Just you wait, when my father hears about this, this tavern will be closed so fast your head will spin! Come Barnaby!” He stood up, and strode towards the door. The rest of the group of nobles sat there, unmoving, watching their friend storm out. As Caleb reached the door, he repeated, “Barnaby! We’re leaving! Come, now!” With a small yelp, Barnaby leapt up from his seat, offered an apologetic smile towards the barkeep, and ran after his friend. As they climbed into Caleb’s waiting carriage, he whined, “Ugh, we must stop at home first. I need to wash off and change before we head to the Festival. This is disgusting, I’m all sticky!
 
 
Hours later, Caleb and Barnaby finally arrived outside the Get-Inn. Caleb was breathing heavily, exhausted from the walk. “Ugh, this is why I never come to the Festival. All these tight alleyways are so small we had to leave the carriage and walk! Like animals! How could the people who built this place be so inconsiderate to us nobles? Ugh, I think I stepped in horse shit on the way here, I’m going to need to throw away these shoes now.” Barnaby looked at his friend's shoes, made of the finest minotaur leather, stitched with golden thread, and still looking immaculate. He shook his head, silently judging his friend for his extreme obsession with cleanliness. “Alright, here’s the place, and the mage ring is over that way around the corner. I’m gonna head over there now, catch up to me when you’re done here.” Barnaby said quickly, before heading off in the direction he’d indicated before Caleb could respond. Left standing in front of the Inn, alone, he took a deep breath and withdrew a handkerchief from his chest pocket. He used it to pull on the handle of the door, refusing to so much as touch anything while he was there, and walked inside.
 
 
Inside the entryway, Caleb felt absolutely repulsed. Everything was pink, making him feel as if he had already paid for one of their disgusting services. He shuddered as he thought of what the place might have looked like under the light of a black-fireball. As he slowly stepped towards the front desk, very carefully, as if worried about stepping on a mine, Madame Winters cocked her head. She’d seen her fair share of shy guests, she had just had one recently, and the noble’s strange movements didn’t seem like embarrassment. However, other than that, she had no ideas as to what would explain his odd behavior.
 
 
“How may I help you?” she asked, opting for the conservative route. After all, the odd young man clearly had money, just his outfit must have been worth a sizable pile of gold. Wordlessly, Caleb removed a small sack from within his coat, and dropped it onto the desk. It’s contents spilled out onto the wood, Winters' eyes threatened to pop out of her skull. Her jaw dropped, and she stared, wide-eyed, at what had to be no less than 30 platinum coins! With that much money, she could renovate the entire hotel and still have enough to treat herself to a vacation, and even bring along all her girls! To call it a fortune would be to undersell it: a single platinum coin was worth 1,000 gold coins! It was also more than double the cost of the most expensive service they offered. Catching herself, Winters took a breath, and looked at the fabulously wealthy stranger with suspicious eyes. She reiterated, more cautiously and with a slight edge, “Is there something I can assist you with?”
 
 
“This filthy hole is now the property of the Connard family. Vacate yourself, and your employees, immediately.” It only took one sentence, but Winters could already feel that she despised the boy in front of her. From context, she knew who he was, and the danger he posed. She could also tell that he was a fool, a spoiled child who thought he owned the world. Her brain whirred, needing to come up with a plan to deal with this, and quickly. “I could… no, that’s probably too much…” she thought to herself, when Caleb opened his mouth. “Now, I don’t want it to be ever said that Caleb Corneliu Leopold Aeon Ignatius Pate le Connard IV is anything short of magnanimous, so I’ll throw in a bonus on top of that payment. You seem competent, and have a nice enough figure, how about you come work for me? I could always use another maid, and that way you get to still have a job. Win-win, right?” A blood vessel in Winters’ head began to pop out and twitch, and she decided in her head, “No, actually, that will be just perfect.”
 
 
Putting on her best fake smile, she said happily, “Oh my, you truly are generous. To think that a member of the great Connard family would humble my little inn with their presence. Your offer is most gracious, and I happily accept your payment for the hotel, as well as becoming your maid, with great thanks!” This act made Winters want to throw up, but she forced herself to continue, the pile of platinum in front of her being more than enough motivation. “However, before we can say that you officially own the hotel, I need you to sign this form to transfer ownership.” She pulled out a copy of the digestive protection waiver from under the desk, folding the top edge of the paper underneath before placing it in front of Caleb. The bold text that said DIGESTIVE PROTECTION WAIVER: DO NOT SIGN IF YOU VALUE YOUR LIFE at the top hidden, Caleb looked at the paper filled with legalese written in a small font for a brief moment. He didn’t bother to read it, merely registering that it appeared to be a contract, and had a line at the bottom where he was meant to sign, and did so immediately. As far as he was concerned, reading things was for his servants to do, and he never considered for a second that Madame Winters’ was not legitimately attempting to ingratiate herself to him.
 
 
With the problem now solved, all there was left to do was to dispose of the headache standing in front of her. Smirking, she pushed the platinum coins back into the sack, placed it beneath the desk, and pressed a button on her console. “Pucci, could you please come up here. I need your help dealing with a rowdy customer.” Caleb began to speak, “Who do you think you’re calling a-” when the floor began to shake, and a massive dog-girl barrelled down the stairs. She came to a stop in front of Caleb, growling at the intruder, extremely protective of Master Winters. The single largest succubus that lived within the Inn, Pucci was over 9 feet tall with golden floppy ears, a fluffy tail, and mid-length blonde hair. She worked as security, functioning as both the Inn’s adorable, beloved mascot, and it’s guard dog.
 
 
“Alright Pucci, go ahead and ‘sit’.” Winter’s ordered. Pucci happily obliged, turning away from Caleb, before dropping herself down on top of him. The pathetically tiny spaghetti-strap thong offering no protection, the dog-girl’s massive shithole slammed down onto the noble, instantly driving him inside to his waist.
 
 
This was easily the single most repulsive thing that had ever happened to Caleb, and he began to struggle furiously. Inside the dog-girl’s colon, the smell alone was nearly enough to drive the noble mad. It was absolutely filthy; he thought that he would never feel clean again, having no idea how right he was. The walls of her guts pressed into him, coating his upper half in horrid slime, and he could feel her pucker squeezing him around his waist. He attempted to scream, to demand that they let him out immediately. Did they not know who he was? He thought about all the horrors his family would visit upon the inn, but his scream was absorbed by Pucci’s huge belly, an audible “mmmph” being all that he had managed. The sound of squelching muscle all around him, he could faintly hear growling. However, the dog-girl was now happily panting, enjoying the opportunity to feel someone squirming around in her butt. It was the sound of her stomach that he could hear above him.
 
 
Pucci stood back up, the noble’s legs flailing between her gigantic cheeks. Her anus, twitching and clenching autonomously, was strong enough to continue drawing the noble further in. Madame Winters watched as Caleb’s legs slowly disappeared into the pucker, his screams becoming faint as his feet slipped inside. She smirked devilishly, her plan having worked perfectly. With the foolish boy’s signature on the waiver, he and his platinum coins belonged to her. He was completely sealed within sweet Pucci’s big butt, and that only left one question: should she simply get rid of the boy, or keep him on hand. It would be easier, and possibly safer, to just turn him into dogshit now. On the other hand, he could be a useful bargaining chip in the future, and she could always have him digested later. She stood there a moment, contemplating, as Pucci waited patiently next to her master, happily panting away, and very much enjoying the ass treat she had been given.
 
 
Ending I: Fatal (Non-canon)
 
 
Winters shrugged, “Easier just to wash my hands of the mess. Alright, Pucci, who’s a good girl? Who’s a good girl?” She turned her attention towards the dog-girl, who began bouncing excitedly in place. “Me! I’m a good girl! It’s me!” she said, her tail wagging wildly from side to side. Winters put her hands on her knees, and cooed, “Yes, that’s right! You are a very good girl! Go enjoy your treat, he’s all yours!” Her eyes lit up, and Pucci cheered loudly. “YAY! Thank you, master! I’m gonna go fuck myself while he slides through my pooper! Bye!” She bounded off back upstairs, as Winters called after her, “Oh! Make sure you deposit him in the retrieval unit after you’re done! The silver on his clothes is worth a pretty penny!”
 
 
Pucci arrived back at her room, and leapt gleefully onto her bed. “Oh boy! I love treats! In my mouth! In my crotch! In my butt! They taste good anywhere! Today is the best!” She happily rolled around on the bed, discarding her tiny uniform, and beginning to touch herself. She could feel Caleb still squirming around in her lower intestines, still frantic to stop slowly slipping deeper into the depths of the dog-girl’s poopchute. However, there was nothing he could do to stop it, as Pucci’s intestines were determined to have her treat arrive at her stomach as quickly as possible.
 
 
As the massive dog-girl played with herself, thrilled with her treat, Caleb was having a bad time. His mind was a hurricane of the most toxic, vile insults he could imagine, feeling the utmost contempt for everyone who had ever stepped foot within the Inn. At the center of it, was his hatred for the dog-girl who had so callously treated him like a suppository. The inside of her guts made him want to boil his skin, the only thing he could think of that could possibly wash off such filth. The stench was the foulest thing he’d ever had the displeasure of smelling, and he was being deafened by the sounds of squelching, squishing, and gurgling that encompassed him. He seethed with fury, completely failing to see how he had himself earned the honor of becoming a dog’s butt biscuit.
 
 
Pucci continued touching herself, cumming repeatedly, as Caleb sank further and further, lost to the stinking depths. It took several hours of sliding agonizingly slowly through her guts, as well as more than half a dozen orgasms, before he reached the stomach. All along the way, listening to horny dog noises, and the sound of her hungry stomach getting closer.
 
 
Finally, the noble’s head pressed into muscle, stopping him briefly, before it opened up around him. He was pushed out of the long, dank tube into a more open space, where he could move freely, if only in place. The dog-girls big gut held him, the walls kneading and turning him slowly, and bumps could periodically be seen poking out as Caleb attempted to punch and kick the walls of the stomach. Pucci giggled to herself, “Haha, this butt treat still thinks it’s people. Stop that, it tickles!” She patted her stomach, causing Caleb to shake violently. He was about to launch into another fit, when the starved organ gave a thunderous groan, and began to seep acid.
 
 
Soon, Caleb had been completely soaked in the digestive juices by the squeezing walls of the stomach, and he could feel as his clothing began to dissolve. He was livid, the outfit was one of a kind, and worth a fortune, and yet it was now dripping away. The fumes were starting to make the noble feel light-headed, and he began to realize that he shouldn’t be concerned with the outfit digesting, because he himself was digesting. His body tingling, he became desperate, and tried the last thing he had ever wanted to do: grovel. “Please, let me out! I’m not food! Please, my father will give you whatever you want! How about 100 platinum coins? No, 500!” Yet, all that Pucci could hear was, “Mmmph! Mmmmmmmph!” She smirked, “Wow, you’re really going nuts in there, huh? Sorry, if you didn’t want to be a treat for my asshole, you shouldn’t have upset Master Winters. You made her mad, and for that I’m going to leave you as a steaming coil behind the Inn! Don’t tell her, but I’m glad you did though. I love intruders, they’re the best treat!”
 
 
The spoiled noble was at a loss, unable to understand why he was now trapped in the brewing belly, slowly digesting away. Surely, he had done nothing to deserve such a fate! If even his vast wealth couldn’t save him, this must have meant that he had simply been cursed with bad luck. As his body became softer and softer, and his mind became fuzzier and less rational, he thought of all the most unlikely reasons why this had happened to him. Maybe this was an attempt to hurt his father, or maybe that damned Barnaby had set him up! Of all the reasons that he came up with to explain it, he never considered that this fate was of his own making.
 
 
After bubbling away for the better part of an hour, Caleb’s screaming mind finally went silent, as his consciousness drifted away, and his body fully sank into the stew that filled the stomach. Pucci could tell right away once the noble had died, as the constant poking visible across her belly had finally ceased, and her stomach was once again still. The fun was over, and Pucci rolled over to take a nap until he had made his journey back through her guts. She mumbled sleepily to herself, “Mmmm, yummyummyummy. Goodbye tasty ass treat…”
 
 
Pucci awoke, several hours later, as Caleb had completed his round trip through the dog-girl’s innards. She got up from bed and bounded back downstairs, heading for the backdoor of the Inn. In the alley outside the emergency exit was a wooden bathtub, which was affectionately referred to as the retrieval unit. The dog girl climbed on top of it, the large tub still too small to be a comfortable toilet for her huge rear, and squeezed. She left a very noble coil steaming within the tub, sparkling with undigested precious metals and stones.
 
 
As Pucci walked back inside, her tail wagging, Madame Winters stepped outside, followed by the Inn’s janitor. She indicated towards the tub, which had a shovel leaned against it, and said, “Alright, Scruffy. I want every last piece of those glittering baubles, get digging.” She headed back inside as he picked up the shovel, looked at the tub full of sparkling dog crap, and sighed. “I hate my job.”
 
 
Ending II: Non-Fatal (Canon)
 
 
Madame Winters sighed with frustration. As much as she wanted to see the little turd become an actual turd, he was just too potentially valuable to throw away. She looked at Pucci sympathetically, “I’m going to need you to hold on to him for me. No digesting him.” The huge dog-girl pouted, looking at her master with the biggest, saddest eyes she could. “No. No begging! Look, I’m sorry girl, I know you thought you were getting a treat. Look, I’ll tell you what, you be a good girl and keep him safe in your ass for me, and I’ll try to send a customer your way the next chance I get. Deal?” Satisfied, Pucci danced happily in circles, “Yay! I can’t wait! I hope it’s a big, strong adventurer!”
 
 
Before dismissing her loyal guard dog, Winters turned her attention towards the girls stomach. “As for you in there, I hope you’re feeling comfortable.” she said with a wicked smile, which only got wider as she could hear “MMMPH!” from within the big round belly. “Good, because that will be your room for the duration of your stay here at the Get-Inn. I hope you enjoy your visit, because you’re going to be in there a looooong time. Maybe, some day, if you learn your lesson and stop acting like such a little shit, you can stop living in shit and be let out. So be a good boy! Alright Pucci, you’re dismissed.”
 
 
With that, the massive dog girl headed back to her room, planning to soothe her disappointment with her favorite dildo. As she walked, her butt jiggled and swayed, shaking the trapped noble around within her shithole. He attempted to kick at the inside of her pucker, but there was no way he was going to get her to open up. The only way he was getting out was if Madame Winters ordered her to squeeze him out, or if she accidentally forgot about him, and he managed to get himself digested. As long as Pucci didn’t get too distracted, she could control the movement of her guts, and keep the noble anywhere in her intestines that she wanted. She decided it would be easier to not have to worry about him trying to escape if she brought him a bit deeper inside, and he began to be pulled forward. All she had to do was remember to stop him before he made it to her stomach. Easy. With that, the noble continued to helplessly sink further into her butt, as the dog-girl stepped into her room to entertain herself with her favorite sex toy.
 
 
A few blocks away, Barnaby was enjoying watching an unfortunate mage get frozen by a frost blast, as he wondered what was holding his friend up for so long. “Maybe he was just in denial, and he ended up hiring one of those succubi.” He thought, chuckling at the idea of Caleb squirming inside the belly of a succubus, enjoying the ridiculous thought. As he thought this, the frozen mage was shattered to pieces as he was struck by a bolt of lightning, and Barnaby’s attention returned to the fight, his friend forgotten.