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Order Up! By Badfurson -- Report

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I thought I'd give fast food another chance; I'd long since abandoned the ease of ready-to-eat roadside burger joints after one too many of the greasy abominations, but the practical convenience of the restaurants throughout my travels won out. Nevermind the constant ribbing about my pseudo-vegetarianism. It's not like I
hated meat or anything, I just don't care for the squicky mouth feel that accompanies most of the types of meat my compatriots tend to prefer-and obviously, I'll eat much of anything if it comes down to it.

I suppose the joke comes from the obvious discrepancy of my biology, versus the avoidance of meat based dishes-see, the rows of enormous incisors decorating the whole of my mouth. The nature of my skull isn't really something that evolves on it's own, so I think I'm justified in determining the contents of my diet for myself. It's not as if I need my food to actually be
food anyway, so to speak.

Regardless, I decided to try out a burger. I remember Masterkey having enjoyed a tall burger during their youth-though which particular version of them that was, I'd be pressed to say; Wendy's, home of the bacon-something, if I recall? Maelstrom didn't really have hamburgers-on account of not having any real land-dwelling livestock to slaughter (I don't presume to imagine fish burgers were a common occurrence, even amongst the more creative locals). Isle certainly hadn't developed a taste for them, even after leaving the watery planet behind-nor after returning decades later.

Having followed Masterkey into this new world (new being a point of contention, seeing as how it was actually a substantial distance into our own world's relative pasts), I figured experiencing something of this sort could be considered acclimatizing to my surroundings. After all, there's not much to be done other than explore nowadays, right?

My own travel experience has been somewhat... limited, thus far-and certainly with more gaps in my memory than I would care to admit. The Others have told me this is tied to reconstruction-a new take on something familiar to me; Previously, I'd never really been something one might consider to be alive-not any more than one might consider a stone or piece of metal to live, however animated it may be. Now, with Masterkey's more conscious control applied-there was a definite surge of
Being that accompanied my thoughts and actions in these new worlds.

That fact made the results of said actions somewhat more... embarrassing than I might otherwise have realized. A downside attached to a more comprehensive understanding of existence being that I can now identify my previous naivety. Failure to notice relatively obvious details in my environment is something I've developed somewhat of a reputation for-however, I can concede that it is inexcusable to fail to notice that of... ahem, the
engorged figure standing present within the bricklay building of which I made the first stop in my journey.

Really, the enormity of her stomach should have given me SOME clue-even hidden underneath that of her over-sized chest, as it were. I could hardly see much of either from my current perspective, a tightening ring of flesh-equally hidden from view, as it bound my form and pulled me downwards simultaneously. The sensation was odd, and familiar? I can't recall ever being in such peculiar-not to mention, dire-circumstances. The redhead whom clutched me deep within the grasp of her posterior spared only a casual glance at my sinking torso, her smug continence visible for just a quick moment in my peripherals.

The moment her gaze left mine, my body sunk a few inches deeper; heavy steps imparted none of their weight into the graceful image of her stride as if the veritable mountain of meat attached to her frame were but an illusion. I held no doubts that my own presence would soon be an afterthought the instant she had me fully entombed within her digestive tract. That she could so casually continue working-nevermind the composure of any potential costumers she might have (I assume this were a regular occurrence?)-with nearly my entire body stuffed into her bowels was mindboggling. Every step pulled a little more of me inside, each pass of her doughy cheeks dragging a little of my form with them as they moved back and forth alongside the sway of her hips.

Amidst my somewhat muted concerns, I wondered if I made any sort of imprint on her form-her belly had already been incredible of size from what I had scarcely witnessed, though I was hesitant to name what I saw as simply fat. The irregularity of the shape-alongside my current predicament-lead me to believe if not the immediate presence of others unfortunates within her tract, then there were at least the remnants of such. I doubted there would be much to greet me upon my arrival, nevermind a warm welcome.

Despite my panic, I harbored no illusions of a grand escape; The Others might have boasted any number of unimaginable talents, yet for all my unusual appearance may imply-my own abilities are somewhat lacking. As such, when my captor's enormous frame leant forward to deposit her serving tray to that of her customers, I was wholly unable to prevent her muscles from reflexively tugging me backwards into her colon.

By the time Wendy stood up again, the last strands of onyx hair had disappeared underneath her skirt. A slight adjustment in her gait smoothed over the slight discomfort that comes after removing a large object from ones anus-her sphincter retightening as the occupant of her intestines drew further inward. The easily distinguishable sensation that always accompanied a guest on their journey through her guts gave her a decent idea of their location within her bowels-this one was still in her colon, but it was only a matter of time before they'd pass through the next opening and into her intestines proper.

The small intestine is where they'd end up spending the majority of her shift; due to the size of the item in question, it was less accurate to say that a person would travel
through her bowels, and more like the organs would move around them instead. After leaving the large intestine, the occupant would move very little themselves, the slick and rubbery lining of her guts inch-worming over them like a disgusting sock-expanding to admit the body, then contracting rapidly as soon as it was passed through to the next intestinal segment.

An undeniably gradual and painstaking process that thankfully required little conscious input from herself, but would leave the recently imbibed in limbo for hours on end-cramped within the dark, uncompromising depths of her tract, coated in a lubricating mucus with little to breath besides what made it's way to them naturally. It sounded like hell, but the time it took for them to reach the mainstay of her digestive system was the reason she chose that method of entry in the first place; Eating her lunch the traditional way had ended up backfiring for her in the past, seeing as how it took significantly less time to traverse her biology going the
correct way, she found herself glued to the toilet more often than not during the back half of her shift. Handling it this way, however, meant that she would close up the shop and head home well before her meal made the return trip, and maintain a high level of productivity throughout the day!

Setting down another tray of burgers, Wendy placed a palm on her gut; the familiar lurch told her that whomever she'd had during her lunch break was making good progress-better than usual, in fact? The low growling was more than she usually got, too; normally the excess of noises wouldn't start until later in the day, generally around the time she would start locking up the store. Now she found herself having to apologize to customers as she asked them to repeat their order, unable to get a clear read over the interrupting squelches and moans. There must have been something off with that last one-from what she could tell, they'd squeezed their way into her stomach in record time!

The noises died down some as the contents of her intestines emptied out into her stomach proper, but a new sense of queasiness made itself known after about an hour. The newest addition to her stomach had only just started breaking down, the previous occupants monopolizing the digestive ministrations of her gut due to their longer exposure and already weakened states; she hoped the nauseous feeling that rose from within her midsection was only temporary, because indigestion could put her on the bench just as easily as a run to the toilet.

At least the customers could enjoy her heaving breasts as yet another hiccupping belch left her mouth with a green expression souring her pale face. Whatever she had eaten was playing hell with her insides-she couldn't remember the last time something had upset her stomach this bad! Finally having enough, Wendy motioned her XO to take over, strutting to the back with a little less grace and a bit more urgency than usual.

She knew hours previous that this wasn't going to get any better before her shift ended, the most she could do now is mitigate the issue. Similarly to how the act of vomiting eases the sense of discomfort one has immediately prior to doing so, a comparable feeling of relief washed over the redhead after locking herself within the privacy of her washroom. Small, with only a handful of amenities-the restroom fit her with a few feet on either side of her enlarged frame, and space for a sink and plentiful supply of toilet tissue. From her place occupying the lone seat in the room, Wendy more so sat
around the toilet-each cheek of hers far too large to rest fully atop the porcelain throne. Between her plump thighs, her roiling stomach quickly warmed the white tiles beneath her.

She'd stopped swallowing her meals at work outright in order to
prevent prolonged stays in this very room; now, she just wished she'd remembered to snag her iPod to occupy herself with. Stuck, more or less, in the restroom nursing her compromised digestive system with only the sporadic interruption of actually conveying her stomach contents into the proper receptacle-Wendy very much regretted not inspecting her earlier lunch more closely.

A low breath through pursed lips was followed by her flushing for the umpteenth time that day; Her stomach hadn't actually shrunk that much from when she'd first entered the washroom-much of the orb's size was stuck with her by this point, after all. The irregularities in her belly's exterior had certainly smoothed over, as well as the noticeable bulge hiding underneath her breasts-that had been the point the actual organ, resting atop the fatty form of her middle, amongst her bowels. That which had vacated her stomach first left it resembling it's original bulk, and made their way through her intestines without conflict-culminating in regular, if massively oversized, loafs that forced her to clench desperately in order to afford enough time to ensure the basin underneath was cleared for entry and avoid any disastrous clogging.

It was when the consistency of what she was passing changed that she began to worry; the uncomfortable nausea returned, though thankfully not as strong, and Wendy gripped her stomach as a wave rode it's way through her bowels. Softer, decidedly less orderly and with a faint uncomfortable stinging accompanying it's passage, the final passenger of the day made their presence known. Not quite liquid, but a far cry from the remnants of her breakfast and midnight snacking-Wendy hurried to depress the silver flusher, nearly filling the bowl to the brim almost immediately. Not appearing to let up soon, she resigned herself to groaning into her pillowy chest whilst she waited for her aching guts to subside.

After over an hour in total, a semblance of normalcy seemed to have returned to her insides; several rolls of tissue had been sacrificed to the cause, and the toilet itself had seen better days, but she was finally able to stand without feeling the alarming lurch in her bowels or excess saliva production that precedes a stomach bug. Once again thanking herself for never wearing panties-or pants of any kind, for that matter-Wendy dried her hands and turned away from the sink.

The lurid gurgle that echoed throughout the cramped space brought an exhausted sigh to her lips; practically falling backwards onto the toilet, a simple thought summed up her opinion rather succinctly:

"I HATE when food goes right through me..."

This image I recently got from  Scyn, as one of their Monday Sketch Commissions-I HIGHLY recommend you order one if you get the chance-and I couldn't be happier with how it came out! You probably all know that for as much as I despise most fast food, I actually quite enjoy the idea of fast food restaurants-Wendy's and their mascot in particular. It's probably the aesthetic of the building and the character's design, in all honesty-I can't help but think positively of her~

As such, I had more of her drawn up and whilst uploading, ended up devising more of a description of the events following than I'd intended to originally. I'm not sure if it's my best work, since I did it in one go-it's a bit rambly from what I can see, but I think it gets the general idea across? I might rewrite/cannibalize the idea later, either myself or in a commission (likely with a different character, since Ikko has too many of my own peculiarities for other to really capture how strange they are)-so look out for that, maybe?

As is, I hope you enjoy! I know I certainly did-and I hope I'll be able to get more of her from Scyn in further commissions!

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