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Eat the Pigs - Frontside By Spider8Fiend -- Report

Not again. This was inexcusable. Why, it was borderline criminal! How could anyone expect him to run a proper business which such Degenerates mucking everything up?

Mr. Benson glared through his storefront window. On the other side of the glass, the bane of all mankind lingered outside Benson & Marley’s, the preeminent jewelers of Breham. Here, they sold dozens, nay, hundreds of gemstones, jewelry sets & other fancy bobbles; everything from diamond rings for that special lady and mother-of-pearl necklaces that cost a fortune to more modest sets, like gold necklaces for church-going folks. Rubies, sapphires, emeralds and more, they sold it at Benson & Marley’s, all with a smile and a money-back guarantee.

Mr. Benson worked hard to build the business’ reputation. So did Mr. Marley, may Onir bless his soul. As did their fathers and their fathers’ fathers. They shed blood and sweat and tears for this business, where most jewelry in Breham could be drawn back to them. Nobody sold finer gemstones than them. Nobody sold more lavish, more beautiful jewelry than them. They carved out their slice of heaven, and in another generation, there would be Benson & Marley's in every city in Atren.

And, and these Degenerates had the gall to stand in the way of that!? Already a handful of potential customers walked past the store. They gave the hobos, those filthy fiends, a wide berth and walked clear off the sidewalk, away from Benson & Marley’s. Some shot dirty looks at the hobos, while others pretended they weren’t there. It was painful to watch, like watching longtime friends drift apart.

Or money fly out of his pocket.

After an hour of this affront to nature, Mr. Benson had enough. Stomping around the display counter, the businessman stormed out of the jewelry store. He stood over the hobos and glared at them. The whole lot were Scaly Broods, the worst kind of Degenerate. Each was dressed in ratty, tattered clothes and each smelled foul. Did they even wash? Did they bathe in their own piss? Each had a tin cup or overturned hat, which had the odd coin & bill inside. What, did they expect to be paid for existing? The lazy bums!

“Hey, you lot! Vamoose!” Mr. Benson waved a hand at the trio. “You’re scaring customers! Go on, shoo!”

The homeless Scaly Brood didn’t move. They stayed right where they were, surrounded by sun-bleached blankets and stained towels. They shared a canvas that saw better days, basking in the morning sun. This early in spring, Scaly Broods were extra sluggish; it wouldn’t be before 10 AM before they could move properly. They likely camped out overnight, brought low by the cool night air & the full moon, which still tickled Breham with winter’s icy fingers.

One of the Scaly Broods, a lass in orange with crested scales around her eyes, blinked groggily. With pupils narrow as slits, the orange gecko stared at Mr. Benson for a time, then nudged her companion, a Bearded Dragon fellow. Covered in spiny spikes that jabbed through his clothes at the joints and collar, the Breaded Dragon snorted as he was roused awake. Gingerly, he turned to his companion.

“Hrrmph? What, what is it?” asked the Bearded Dragon. The orange gecko gestured to Mr. Benson. Both Scaly Broods regarded the businessman sleepily before a tired grin spread across the Bearded Dragon man’s lips, slow as molasses.

“Why, good morn’ to yah! How can we, er, be of service?” The Bearded Dragon man put a hand over his heart. “Name’s Peters. Benjamin Peters, tho most call me Peters or Benji.”

Peters waved a hand to the orange gecko. “This is our youngest, Asal.”

“Salutations.” Asal wiggled her fingers with a nervous grin.

“And this sack of shit.” Peters slapped the shoulder of his other companion, a Red-Footed Tortoise who was wide as a carriage. The Tortoise snored and tucked his limbs deeper into his shell, but did not waken. “Is ol’ Eduardo. We call him Eddy, but don’t say it to his face: he hates it.”

Hands on his hips, Mr. Benson raised an eyebrow. He towered over the lot, not the least bit impressed. Fiery fury wafted off him like smoke or a wildfire’s heat, but due to the cool breeze, neither Scaly Brood felt it.

“I don’t care who you country bumpkins are. Why are you loitering outside my store?” Mr. Benson waved to the passerby’s milling by along the street. Some glanced at the ruckus, while others continued their daily routine. “You’re scaring off customers with your filth!”

Peters licked his lips slowly, his pink tongue larger than a spatula. Hands raised in pardon, he said, “Apologies, sir. We didn’t mean nuthin’ by it. We just sorta… slept where we fell last night.”

“No excuses!” Mr. Benson stomped his foot on the spot. "After all these years, I won't stand for this, this obscenity. Drag your sorry carcasses away, or do I gotta do it for you?"

Peters chuckled a touch awkwardly. "N-now now, guvnor! There's n-not need to raise your voice. Come on, you lot. Let's going..."

With a grunt, Peters stood up... or made an honest attempt. Between his age and winter's chill, the old Bearded Dragon felt like his body was full of lead. His knees wobbled as he rose to his feet, and while Peters did succeed, he leaned against Benson & Marley's front store window for support. This smeared dust over the glass, and worse, the Bearded Dragon's spines left scratches here and there. It even scratched the E and O out of Benson.

The store owner's face turned red as a rose. Hands clutching and unclutching, Mr. Benson fumed.

"Why, you... you...!!"

"Oh, lay off him!" snapped Asal. The orange gecko wiggled her tail left-and-right aggressively. The tail slapped across the ground and brushed against Mr. Benson's shoes. "He's trying his best! Come on, Mr. Peters. Up we go."

With a touch more ease, Asal rose and let Peters lean against her shoulder. At the same time, she wrapped her muscular tail around Eduardo. The tortoise man snorted loudly, but did not rouse as he was dragged along. His shell grinded across the sidewalk, leaving chips in the otherwise freshly paved concrete.

Before the trio could leave, however, Mr. Benson caught Asal by the wrist.

"Where do you lot think you're going!? Who's gonna pay for this?" Mr. Benson pointed at the scratched window. "Look at what you freaks did!"

"Lay off! Like we can afford it!" Asal narrowed her eyes, even as Peters gripped her shoulder firmly. He muttered something under his breath, making Asal whip her head around to him. "No! I 'won't let it go, forget the ol' toff!' How often do we get shooed off the streets? How often do people kick us around? Treat us like trash? I've had it! If the 'good people of Breham' are happy to kick us to the curb and force us into the gutter, at least let us sleep in it!"

"I know, I know..." said Peters. "But this isn't the right way."

"Then what is the right way?" asked Asal. She waved a hand, sweeping across the crowd of pedestrians. Passerbys balked when the Scaly Brood raised her voice and gestured to them, as if stung like a wasp. Most shied away with a mixture of shame, disgust, and indifference while others glared and muttered under their breath. "If nobody is gonna look out for us, we gotta look out for ourselves! Look after for our own. Why should we let this stuffy bully push us around? Huh?"

Mr. Peters looked at Asal most mournfully. There was nothing that he could say, no words that couldn't be spoken without betraying his innermost thoughts. Out of the group, Mr. Peters had to be the nice one, the reasonable one. The one who could talk the others down. Maybe then, the trio could live to see tomorrow or not rot behind bars.

Regardless, Mr. Benson huffed sharply. He looked around Lewis Street for the iconic blue-and-gold of Breham's Finest, or failing that, for the burgundy coat of a Civilian Guard. Typically, one was stationed on Lewis Street at all times, given the heavy foot traffic and important businesses here. Why else did his taxes pay, after all? But no matter where he turned, or how hard Mr. Benson peeled his eyeballs, there was no sign of the authorities anywhere.

"Hey!" called Mr. Benson. "Has anyone seen the constable? Hey? Hey!"

Mr. Benson tore through the crowd, looking up-and-down the street. Wherever he looked, there were no police. More people glared at him as Mr. Benson shoved people aside, which he completely ignored. During the chaos, the Scaly Brood Trio snuck away and slipped discretely into an alleyway. Their getaway would have been perfect, were it not for the ruckus made by Eduardo's grinding shell.

The Scaly Broods were about halfway down the alleyway when they stopped. Eduardo was much too heavy to drag around forever. They leaned against a wall and breathed heavily.

"Its too early for this!" said Asal. Her tail burned like fire. "How can Eduardo be such a heavy sleeper!?"

"Don't blame the poor sod. He's not built for city life. None of us are," said Peters.

The trio took time to catch their breath. Then, turning her head, Asal grinned gratefully at the figure in the shadows.

"Still, that could have gone worse. Thanks for the save, Beli. Don't know what we'd do if the constables really did show up."

Like an iceberg emerging from the foggy mist to bear down on an unsuspecting cruise liner, the figure emerged from the shadows. At a staggering twenty foot-something, the figure was a Scaly Brood much like them. Covered in scarlet and golden scales, the enormous serpent had black-and-brown spots lining her back in spiraled knots and ebony black hair that fell past the shoulders. Her round thighs were broader than tree trunks and thicker than a bowl of oatmeal, while her long tail was lined with powerful muscles. Her chest was completely exposed, exposing burnt yellow nipples wide as dinner plates and breasts bigger than watermelons.

And her gut? Why, the serpent's belly was absolutely enormous, round and golden as Onir's sun. The scaly surface was completely smooth with the odd dew drop trickling down its sides, making the snake's normally invisible belly button shine through. The bloated belly was like a wrecking ball that radiated pure gluttony; simply standing near it made everyone hungry, horny, or both. Like a pendulum, the golden globe swayed from its own precarious gravity and bumped into walls, making whole buildings shake.

Gastric noises escaped the giant gut as it digested whatever meal vanished inside it. Acid burbled like the volcanic cesspit and the taut scales occasionally shook from its own muscle contractions. The Scaly Brood's hips, chest, and tail steadily swelled as she digested the feast, and Asal swore she was three feet shorter the night before.

"Its was, uh, no problem? I was just in the neighborhood, passing through. And when I saw that constable approach you guys, asleep and vulnerable and such, my body just... lunged." Belinda tapped a finger atop her behemoth belly. The golden globe made loud thonk thonk noises like a drum, which underpinned the caustic glorp glorp glorps of digestion. Occasionally, her intestines dislodged a bone or crushed a skull, making it audibly rumble like thunder. "And when his whole squad showed up, hunger... mighta gotten the better of me."

Looking between her friends faces, Belinda asked worriedly, "D-Did I do a bad thing? Should I go on the lamb!? If this continues, Breham won't have any police by the end of the year! My belly is just too strong for them!"

Peters and Asal looked between each other. They looked hard. The alleyway erupted in uproarious laughter.

"Pffft, what? Those pigs deserve everything that comes to them! Who do you think keeps us down?" Asal rolled her eyes, arms folded across her chest. "That fancypants loser might be weak, but him and people like him pay the police to push us around. Maybe the police do some good, stopping murderers and such... but unless they reform and really serve the whole community, not just rich assholes, they're better off as snake chub!"

"I sssssssssuppose." Belinda licked her lips with a forked tongue. "I just think-"

"Hey! Has anyone seen the constable?" Mr. Benson's voice echoed from the street down into the alleyway. "There's a bunch of Scaly Brood riff raff busking outside my shop! This can't be tolerated! Hello? Hello!?"

Under her breath, Belinda mumbled, "Can't say I- uuuuuuuuuuuuuurp- have..."

In a louder voice, Asal threw up her hands and said, "Yah see? We're not even bothering him anymore! And he's still out for blood!"

Letting out a heavy sigh, Peters shook his head sadly. "Wherever money exists and accrues, you'll always find those with power ready and willing to hurt people. Whether its to exert their power, maintain it, or gain more. There's no bad people in this world. Just lost souls who blind themselves and lose sight of what's truly important in life."

"Maybe you're right..." Belinda shivered as more meat and bones pumped through her intestinal tract, shifting muscles and organs around in an never-ending conveyor belt of gluttony. Billions of calories surged through the snake woman, filling her with strength and a celiac high that made her nerves tingle. Belinda's vision fogged over with pleasure and her thicc, meaty thighs rubbed together. It was still too close to winter. Too close. "Hard to deny how good it feels too..."

"Exactly! So don't sweat it!"

Together, the Scaly Broods relaxed peacefully in the alleyway. The mighty engine of Belinda's digestive tract burned much heat as it digested the dozen or more police officers. This heat filled the alleyway, making the tight brick space feel like a sauna. Not only did this melt nearby snow and ice, but it roused Asal and Peters out of their morning funk. Even Eduardo snored less loudly, though he still slept like the dead.

Eventually, the voluminous chuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuurns and glorp glorp plorps of digestion died down. Belinda's belly shrunk until the fleshy orb hung over her thicc thighs and not the knees. The snake woman let out a gassy braaaaaaap, pushed off the wall (nearly toppling jewelry store over in the process), and looked over her figure. A heavy sigh escaped Belinda.

"... dang it. Why do coppers always go to my hips!?"

Belinda ran her hands up-and-down her waist. The serpent's butt was massive, positively a monster of gluteus maximus proportions. These ample hips were wider than a tramcar and each buttcheek heavier than mountains. Anyone unfortunate enough to get between Belinda and a chair would surely disappear between these phat, plump cheeks. They could crush diamonds, yet were soft and juicy enough that one's hand would melt into that yielding flesh. Any slap would bounce right off, leaving one with a sore hand, yet those baby-bearing hips let out a silent siren's song, bidding anyone with a drop of sexual drive to approach.

Gripping her asscheeks with both hands, Belinda let them fall, making that monster ass bounce. The vibrations were enough to make dust fall off the alleyway walls and the bwumph bwumph of clapping asscheeks echoed everywhere.

Gritting her teeth, Belinda grimaced. "At this rate, I'll never wear pants again! Last night's meal already ruined my last outfit..."

"Don't worry." Mr. Peters gave a thumbs up. "We'll hook you up! If nothing else, you can use our blankets as clothes!"

"... thanks," said Belinda, a touch weakly. "I really... appreciate it."

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Not gonna lie here, this story got away from me. Once I got going, the words kept spilling out, even if they weren't directly tied to the art's subject. Not sure why, but there was something viscerally satisfying by depicting new Scaly Brood characters and the extent to which they're discriminated against. It gets worse, 'cause discrimination always can, but I tried to keep the tone from getting too bleak. Especially since Belinda does fight back against tyranny in her own gluttonous way!

Perhaps I'll trim the story down eventually or rehash it, make it much more centered on Belinda? A tighter, more focused narrative could make this really shine! Honestly, I half wish I stuck with the original idea, where Belinda got knocked up and apologized to the father's girlfriend/wife, but I don't wanna focus too much on impregnation/pregnancy with Belinda. For now, hope you all enjoy it. If not, Negullust's amazing art should certainly compensate!

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Art by the noble & neighborly  negullust

Comment on Eat the Pigs - Frontside

Spider8Fiend: Feel free to share whatever comments you have in mind! If you have any criticism to offer, however, please try to make it constructive. If you have a lot to say, feel free to PM me as well so the comment section doesn't get too full~

Comments
ThatBrassyGuy

Posted by ThatBrassyGuy 1 year ago Report

Epic, love this sort of thing

[ Reply ]

Spider8Fiend

Posted by Spider8Fiend 1 year ago Report

If Belinda actually put effort into it, and didn’t simply eat police at random, she’d surely devour Breham’s police force within a week.

[ Reply ]

Wyvern14

Posted by Wyvern14 1 year ago Report

Simply worth the calories UwU

[ Reply ]

Spider8Fiend

Posted by Spider8Fiend 1 year ago Report

Positively dripping with calories… and sweat.

[ Reply ]

Chranal1999

Posted by Chranal1999 1 year ago Report

Read the story, interesting to see more scaly brood. And I like to see a naked belinda

[ Reply ]

Spider8Fiend

Posted by Spider8Fiend 1 year ago Report

Thanks! Scaly Brood fill the whole spectrum of reptiles. There’s even a chance a Scaly Brood will be born a dinosaur. But that’s a million-in-one-chance…

[ Reply ]