Queen wasn’t entirely certain what she was doing here. The crumbling skyscrapers of the former corporate sector, that poked through the desert like blades of grass, had long been abandoned by what passes for civilized folk. She herself had not traversed the barren, inhospitable wasteland in many cycles-preferring the far superior dwellings of her established rule over the lands she dedicated her youth to dismantling; yet still she found herself stood amongst the stonewashed husks, seemingly the only living creature for hundreds of kilometers. She figured it was some unresolved conflict, or memories from her past tickling at the edges of her conscious that dragged her halfway across the sandy globe-far from her dominion and into the so-called wildlands. She wasn’t certain of how long she had wandered throughout the forest of half buried structures-never venturing inside, for the ages have certainly done nothing for the corporations budget construction. The inkling sensation had yet to subside. She prepared herself for a prolonged occupation-her empire could do without her for a week or so, perfectly capable of sustaining itself under the watchful eye of her loyal bodyguard and companion. It had taken a considerable amount of reassurance to convince the stalwart canine to maintain her post as acting command, Duo exceedingly hesitant to leave the presence of her charge-but unwilling to defy her Monarch, the hybrid agreed to remain in the New Capitol and continue to assert The Queen’s Authority in her absence. It was, after all, highly unlikely that the red vulpine would encounter any living creatures at all, let alone something she would be incapable of dispatching with little effort.
Her gaze swept over the beige landscape as she waited for something to change and confirm the gut feeling that grew stronger with every moment that passed. Just as she was about to double back to reassure herself that her nothing had occurred that might damage her transport and leave her stranded, a sudden weight impacted her from behind, pressing it’s limbs into her calves and driving her into a kneeling position; an ambush, something she hadn’t been subjected to in the many years since bringing order to her world, with even fewer attempts having been successful. The dark wetness that engulfed her view was tinged slightly pink from the ambient light of the desert. She had no way of knowing who was assaulting her-it could be any number of personal or political enemies (or even ‘allies’)-and she faltered in her attempt to counter the assailant as they wrapped themselves over her arms to pin her in place. The unknown attacker’s fingers sunk into her breasts, barely covering the healthy globes due to their immense size, instead using them to provide leverage while their lips completely encased the Monarch’s head. She could feel that whomever ambitious person was in the midst of swallowing her could tell that Queen was physically stronger than them, thus they endeavored to end this confrontation quickly lest they be forced to abandon their quarry. The speed at which they were progressing across Queen’s body, along with having been caught truly off guard for the first time in recent memory, left her with little opportunity to reverse her unfortunate situation-her normally fierce and dominating personality left with no offensive options, relegating her to the dubious tactic of stiffening her frame and hoping that the rigid posture would prevent herself from vanishing deeper into the hot enclosure of her would-be assassin…
Unfortunately, the change in pose seemed to have little effect-rapid gulps continuing to clear nearly half a foot in each swallow, steadily closing in on the finish line with each passing moment. She might have been inclined towards a modicum of respect, were she not the subject of such a demonstration. Her ability to resist dropped from minimal to nonexistent with her arms long since pinned to her sides by the encroaching walls of flesh, the tips of her fingers wiggling in earnest from just beyond the tide of lips crawling down her torso. Her dignity, what little one can have whilst being relegated to food, was spared the invasion of a probing tongue between her thighs by the thick material of her bodysuit-long since past the point of removal at this stage, and still dutifully attempting to protect it’s wearer even if there was nothing it could do to prevent her consumption. The boy-she could presume her assailant’s gender via the uncomfortable bulge pressing against her face from below her new residence within the stomach-had risen to a standing position at some point during this process, utilizing the age-old tactic of incorporating the assistance of gravity into the swallowing endeavor, allowing him to swallow the width of her hips with greater ease than he likely would have managed through his own effort. She wouldn’t admit it, but Queen was deeply regretting having worked herself down to a lighter weight over the previous years-her former bulk would have stopped this encounter in it’s tracks long before reaching this point.
With her hips out of the way, and her thighs quickly following suit, it was a straight shot down her lower legs. Gravity’s hold had become superfluous at this point, and the upstart predator returned to the ground once more, this time taking a seated position to leisurely work on the last of his meal-reassured by the fact that there was even less chance of escape now than ever; the empty silence of the wasteland that had previously offered protection was now a death sentence, with no hope of rescue stumbling upon the engorged regicidal creature. Even still, when she felt the edges of his lips reach her ankles, Queen sharply bent her feet-hooking the edges of her boots against the boy’s face, and temporarily preventing him from finishing her off; the gesture didn’t last long, as he simply raised a hand and gently lifted her toes-freeing himself to tuck her remainder into his maw. Admittedly, there were few that would even attempt to rescue her, even from her own kingdom-and not for concern of harm to their own selves; any of her subjects would rather help seal her away inside her assailant, with their only second thought being that of regret for not capturing her themselves. She knew that even if she were rescued, the very sight of her recognizable figure filling out the form of another would send her reign to an instant, crashing end. It would be almost impossible to recover from such a blow to her reputation, the ruthless and unstoppable force that she had become was the keystone of her rule-evidence of anything less would crumble at her very foundation. While not much better than the alternative, it was of some miniscule comfort that no one would witnesses what was about to transpire-doubly so that her signature outfit would perish in the same manner as herself, securing at least her legacy and ensuring no one would be able to challenge Duo as her successor. Queen could only hope that her closest confidant would be capable of fending off this assassin when they inevitably make an attempt on the canine’s life. As she felt around and rotated in the fleshy coffin, the tips of her feet pressed together and began their descent into the sweltering darkness that encapsulated her.

Arctic reclined back as he felt the last of the boots sink into his gullet-the clunky rubber ends of her outfit had been a daunting finale to his meal but failing to swallow them would have been a childish refusal not worth regurgitating his food. It had been a rather large meal, the first he had seen since arriving in this strange landscape-but well worth the wait, considering the sense of fullness he was currently experiencing! His tongue lolled in satisfaction as he watched, and felt, the mass inside him shift and resettle into the pool of liquids that had steadily built in anticipation throughout the engulfing. He honestly hadn’t expected procuring sustenance in this new environment to be such an easy task; it hadn’t taken more than a few moments to spot his target, garb in direct contrast with their surroundings, and sneaking into suitable range was a triviality. Swatting aside a negligible resistance had likewise required little thought, gulping her down was a simple matter. Of all the meals he had worked for, this was by far the easiest he could remember; the most difficult aspect of consuming it was by far the thick leather garment that tasted of blood and sand. If not for the war-torn state of the landscape, Arctic would have assumed his quarry had never dealt with a predator before-he wished all catches could be this easy! Reclining now, a leg to either side of a gut that represented the majority of his bodyweight, the feline basked as the warm desert air helped ready his internals for what was sure to be a lengthy process.
A sudden flurry of movement struck the inside of the feline’s stomach; A short burst of rage was all she would allow herself; she had ended far too many lives in the same manner to even consider flailing her strength away against the caustic surroundings. The residual bulges from Queen’s outburst receded as she drew into herself; ‘Was that it?’ Arctic thought to himself, his tail flitting behind him in confusion-aside from that initial reaction, there had been almost no movement from the interior of his belly. If he hadn’t known better, and his curious pokes not resulted in the shifting of his stomach-contents position, he would have assumed his meal had somehow already perished within the swampy confines; it seemed as if she was consciously refusing to struggle or search in vain for a method of escape. He considered this with a shrug; it was fine by him if she would prefer to stew quietly, the outcome would hardly be altered by her demeanor after all.
Queen remained still, silently seething as the dark chamber jostled around her-the distant sounds of a low, lengthy belch reverberated throughout her host. She flinched and shut her eyes after a bursting bubble stirred up by the eructation sent a fleck of stinging enzymes her way; she wasn’t deaf to the clear signal sent by the act. She could feel how satisfied the predator was with her, how her full-figured form sated his appetite; it was impossible to ignore the digits groping and prodding her through the slick walls, ignorant of her silent distress and keen to coax every ounce of strength out of her before retreating. Her mind raced backwards through time, recalling her first days after reaching the surface; her failed promise to never be vulnerable again, to become a predator, THE predator-to become QUEEN. Another expulsion of gas shook her, this time something impacted the stomach above her, however; not hands, those were still fondling the lower sections of the stomach. A sense of dread entered her heart as she swiveled around within the lightless sphere. Her beret! The closest symbol to a crown she had and undeniable proof of her demise; without it’s assured destruction her legacy was no longer intact. By right of conquest, the proof of her defeat would name this unknown assassin as a worthy contender to Duo for the throne…

An uncomfortable heat was rising in Arctic’s throat-clearly a solid object; he doubted that he’d be getting any escape attempts this late into her consumption, but still he braced himself for the errant limb or attempt to squeeze her head back up his esophagus. A slight hacking belch left him pleasantly surprised upon seeing not grasping digits futilely searching in vain for rescue, but instead the sopping blue fabric of a souvenir of his recent meal! Tilting his head at the garment, he scarcely recalled it accompanying his meal as he fit her head between his jaws only a short time ago-it seemed as good a keepsake as any, so after giving it a handful of minutes to dry (having made certain to shake the larger globs of saliva from it’s exterior), Arctic donned the peculiar crown and set about relaxing with his catch. It had been known for some prey to attempt a somewhat delayed escape when their predators were off guard, making their exodus once the host had fallen asleep or throwing their weight around to send the predator careening into danger when they least expect it; after a handful of, rather embarrassing in all honesty, close calls in the past-Arctic had learned his lesson several times over, remembering to both stay put as well as fend off the temptation of sleep until he was well and sure of his success. That sign being the telltale give only just now presenting itself whenever he pressed and prodded at the immense swell resting above his lap, the composition of the figure inside beginning to give way under the constant assault of both his stomach and the desert heat combined into a deadly oven.
Satisfied that there wouldn’t be any interruptions, Arctic took this time to roll onto his side-the shapely lumps in his gut coalescing into a rough egg shape as it dove to the side to lay in front of him, nestled as it were in the small dugout of sand shifted by his form. Whether or not the occupant of his gut were discomforted any from the movement concerned him little-the only complication that mattered being however much long it took from now until she slid through his bowels and back out onto the sand where he found her. Soon enough he was sound asleep under the clear skies of The Frontier, it’s ruler slowly sapped by the feline’s internals while he snoozed; hat draped carelessly across one side of his face as he splayed out in the sand. The almost cute depiction was a far cry from the scene playing out amongst his insides, a molten pit of rapidly dissolving flesh wrapped in a tough leather blanket. Within only a short few hours of falling asleep, nearly half of Queen’s sizable bulk had been pulled free of her form-painfully aware of every inch that added to the swirl of nutrients, still able to make out the telltale suction of liquids straining lower through the intestinal valve below.
Becoming more teardrop shaped as time dragged on, Arctic’s bowels swelled with a deluge of fresh ingredients to strengthen his formerly lithe frame; The Miqo’te furled his brow as he slept, faint whispers of gas displacing sand around him in short gusts-accompanying Queen into his bowels were plenty of clumps of undigested fur and bone, creating uncomfortable blockages that slowed and stemmed the inevitable buildup of fumes escaping hunks of meat as they broke down into a potent chemical slurry. Unable to force their quickly around the thick loaves developing in the colon, an uncomfortable bloating sensation began to creep it’s way up Arctic’s middle as he slept. Further upwards along his pipes, a bunched up rubbery mass of leather rested atop the remaining contents of his stomach-for some reason failing to vacate in the traditional manner and instead standing firm just below the esophagus. Eventually the rising pressure reached a peak, and trapped pockets of air finally broke past the waste and vacated his bowels, rousing the feline from his slumber with a heavy vibration that did little to settle the now apparent urge to relieve himself.

Taking a moment to yawn, Arctic quickly set about rising from his seated position. The task seemed to take a great deal more effort than usual, his gut significantly smaller-but he could now tell that the weigh attached to him was his own, not that of any creature stowed away inside. The massive swell of his middle likely weighed as much as the rest of him by now, and he would have to exert a great deal more effort than he was prepared for at this juncture. Shifting his, considerably wider, legs behind him, Arctic attempted to rise upwards into a kneeling position-however, lifting his gut from the ground below allowed it to finally shift it’s weight into a more natural setting, that is, sending Arctic tumbling forwards into a position that offered no aid to his aching bowels. A loud groan racked his middle… usually it takes a little longer to reach this stage! He knew he wouldn’t have long to stall-the deposed monarch had shot right through him and felt very insistent in protesting her rough treatment at the hands of this peasant-nearly pressing at his backdoor only a scant few hours after landing in his stomach. Opting to disrobe before his bowels ran out of patience, Arctic made again to stand. Finally rising fully, he raced to remove his attire.
Shifting his clothes wasn’t easy, but he managed to work around the sphere of his middle to unclasp his various belts and quickly toss his trousers aside; Not long after removing the garment did Queen’s prolonged residence come to an abrupt end. With no reason to hold her back any longer, Arctic allowed the thick wave of refuse to slide forcefully from his rectum-the enormous head of a mottled dark log rapidly emerging from between his pale globes. As it continued, the waste began to coil slightly beneath him, rising higher and forcing Arctic to scoot forward, even crouched as he was in a slightly precarious position to maintain his balance. His ears twitched with each jolt he received from a spike of bone or larger than anticipated clump; never before had he experienced this much trouble from someone so easy to devour… groaning as he leaned forward, belly shuddering between his legs-a rounded blockage he assumed was the skull hitched in his anus for only a split moment, but more than long enough to send an uncomfortable pressure reeling through his intestines before popping loose and vanishing into the pile along with the rope that contained it. As more and more slid out of him, he did find it a bit odd that he couldn’t feel any scraps of clothing accompanying the brown muck. Perhaps they remained stuck inside his guts, alongside whatever had yet to finish digesting? The last thing he needed was to be left squeezing this bitch out for days because of constipation…

After a few more minutes the train started to die off, leaving him with a not quite empty feeling, but certainly feeling lighter-and much more confident to retrieve his lower garments. Redressing was something he found much easier after having relieved himself, the curve of his gut no longer hanging past his knees-but unfortunately, not resting any higher than that either. No sooner than he pulled the waistband of his trousers up underneath his gut did another sensation make itself know to him, for better or worse going upwards this time. Bracing himself as the rare appearance of his gag reflex made itself known, the desert air was filled with a disquieting retching noise as something worked it’s way up Arctic’s throat before culminating in a slick half-belch that stung at his nose. After catching his breath, his looked downwards-moving to the side after being unable to see anything below the orb of pale flesh-and inspecting the item before him; the sopping article below had emerged from his insides without as much as a single tear from what he could readily surmise. Subconsciously stroking the sides of his swell, several thoughts occurred to the feline, contemplating the suit before a simpering puff of gas signaled that he wasn’t quite done with business just yet. Disrobing for the second time was less of an inconvenience-he had a new outfit to try on anyway…



This set is a long overdue upload from last year, commissioned by me for  MarianEdel from Kanilan:

https://www.deviantart.com/kanilan

Features Edel's boy Arctic getting one over on Queen, along with quite a bit of heft, in pseudo-response to an earlier 'encounter'. Lucky him, if she hadn't been caught off guard I'm sure things would have ended quite differently-as it is though, this scenario ended with her taking a trip through Arctic's bowels so I doubt she'll be getting another chance at getting even. The most she might do is put him off-balance with that extra hundred or so LBS she added to his gut-though, that plumped up backside of his might even it out...

Etc, Etc. That's about as much playful bantering or such that I can muster at the moment. I'm going to sleep, whatever.

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