Liminal Edibles were an attempt at creating something different species of monster types could consume in one easily digestible meal. The test subjects of the now defunct corporation and their product vanished into a haze of gluttony and sloth. The final cases of the defective product were on their way to be incinerated by truck.
Or they should have been if it wasn’t for the lazy keystrokes of one Ms. Smith.
So it was that the package of contraband food ended up on the doorstep of Kimihito Kurusu and in front of the eight curious red eyes of Rachnera Arachnera, better known to her Honey and the others as Rachnee. She huffed a bit of a stray lock of her silvery-white hair out of a couple of her eyes and observed the box of foodstuffs. A few of her legs tapped along the box while her chitonus black fingers grabbed a package of the stuff and brought it closer. Shutting the front door, the spider-woman made her way towards the living room. Tearing into a box, with no care for the bits of packaging now littered on the floor, she fished out a couple bits of food. It wasn’t much to look at, a few wafer squares, but she plopped the stuff into her mouth anyway.
Grabbing four more boxes, she savored the taste in her mouth before swallowing, rolling her eyes. Typical of that human waste of space that called herself her case manager, Rachnee thought, legs clacking along on the wooden floor before she shot out a line of webbing and pulled herself up towards her room in a darker corner of home.
The mess Rachnee left behind was found nearly an hour later by her fellow housemate, the centauride Centorea Shianus, her ears flicking a bit as she let loose her best snort at the sight of the mess. Blue eyes trailing the bits of webbing that still hung on the ceiling, she got to work cleaning up the mess, taking in the opened package and the food inside the cardboard. The bright typeface and colorful mascot promised a worthy supplement to the regular meals of the day. Taking a box for herself, but only after cleaning up the mess as was proper when one came across such a thing, Centorea decided she’d have it with the carrots she had in the fridge not ten feet away in her room. Entering her bedroom, nodding at the cleanliness and order on display, she opened the fridge, munched on a carrot, and promptly ate three of the wafer squares. The taste wasn’t the best but she supposed it was to be expected of a supplement. Tossing her long blond hair and swishing her tail back and forth, Centorea closed her eyes, thoughts on her master currently on vacation with the others in the house save for Rachnee. As her breathing evened out, she decided a quick nap was in order after the patrol she’d completed and mess she cleaned up.
GMO’s whirled and danced along the bloodstreams of the two liminals over the next couple of weeks, merging with DNA and forever altering their bodies at the genetic level, the more visible results of this change were slowly happening, but both young women chalked it up to various other factors in their lives.
To Rachnee, her chitinous digits coated in barbeque sauce and fried chicken crumbs as she mashed at her games console, the extra fat ringing her face and softening her already large lower half was just inevitable she supposed. Her diet wasn’t the best but she didn’t give a damn. She had a roof over her head, a tolerable human being in her Honey, and entertainment aplenty versus the suffering she’d endured on the streets and at the hands of the shithead humans she had known. Picking up another chicken breast, she pierced the fried skin with her fangs, sucking up the grease, meat, and fry batter as if she hadn’t eaten in months. “Sssssfffffhhiip! Damn, that’s the stuff right there!” the spider-woman exclaimed, reaching for another piece of chicken after tossing the empty fried husk into the corner of her room. After sucking another bit of chicken down her mouth, she gave a great burp and returned her attention fully to her game, happy with how this extended alone time was going.
To Centorea, her fatter face, softer rump, and wider breasts were simply do to her straying from the true warrior’s path. So she picked up her patrols, worked out twice as hard, and mediated on the art of war day and night. She also ate three times as much at meals, coating her beloved veggies in steak sauce and other such condiments, the centauride finding the usual crunchy carrots and tasty celery a bit boring to her tastebuds. But no matter how much she trained, her increased appetite and slow metabolism only added to the softness spreading over her figure. Currently, Centorea was cleaning up after another of Rachnee’s messes, bending low to grab some bits of webbing. Normally Rachnee’s webbing was a healthy white color but this newer variety was less thick and a sickly yellowish shade. As she picked up a bit more of the stuff, a popping sound rang out. Looking down, Centorea gaped a bit at her human stomach and the fleshy glob it had become spreading from her popped button. “Oh my!” She resolved herself to train harder at the sight, getting back to her feet. As she started to move on to another web pile, she heard Rachnee’s voice.
“Horse butt, get in here! I need more food!”
Sighing, but not one to let anyone suffer, even a being as selfish and conniving as her housemate Rachnee, Centorea trotted her way up the stairs and into the spider-woman’s room after grabbing a bag of recently delivered food from the government. There were her usual veggies mixed in with some sandwiches, double-stacked with meat and leaking condiments as she fished a few out for Rachnee. The chubbier arachnid was yet again at one of her many games consoles, hammering away at the buttons and yelling at the screen.
“I’m gonna kick your pansy ass Satan! Put some damn pants on when I’m whupping your damned nads!” Centorea coughed loudly, three of Rachnee’s eyes looking her way. “Fingers are a little occupied right now, horse butt, so just shove those subs in my mouth. Not like I’m trying to keep my womanly figure or anything.”
“Please address me by my name, Rachnee, and I will not feed you. You can pause your contraption and eat at your leisure.” Rachnee paused the game, all of her eyes now on Centorea. She didn’t come and get the food though, instead raising one of her eight legs and beckoned the centauride closer.
“Centorea, do you know the evil I am this close to vanquishing?” Centorea’s ears perked up.
“Vanquishing evil, you?”
“What can I say, a nice hobby of mine, anyway, I am this close to defeating Lucifer himself.” Centorea thought back to her many weapons, most handed down from medieval times, and her favorite, a plain broadword with an inscription in Latin to ward against the enemy of mankind, were all made during those valiant days. But could Rachnee hold the key to doing such a thing, when so many brave knights and warriors could not?
“I thought these machines of yours just blasted incomprehensible noise and flashes.”
“That’s my Atari, Centorea. No, my Playstation here, third of its distinguished line, is giving me the opportunity to save the wretched souls lost in Hell and to put an end to Lucifer’s mad ambitions. So, obviously, I cannot pause and simply eat, even though I’m hungry. Please, won’t you help give my body the fuel it needs to see this through?”
Centorea nodded, a determined expression on her face as she reached out with the first sandwich, crossing over swiftly, the game unpaused as the first bit of it was pressed past Rachnee’s lips.
“Snarf…mmmmmm….damn this is good!” Centorea carefully put more in as she turned her attention towards the screen and the small figure firing cross-shaped blasts of energy against a figure that could only be Satan himself. “Don’t be gentle, shove the food in!” Over half of the sandwich followed, Rachnee grunting heaviliy as she struggled to eat and swallow the massive bite, but not two seconds after managing the feat, a pointy end of one of her legs brushed against Centorea’s left front leg. “More!”
“Of course,” she replied, impressed by Rachnee’s appetite. It was nearly a match for her own and she was eating even more than usual these days! “What will you do when you beat Lucifer, Rachnee?”
“That will be the…GULP…huff…Shpppffff….end of the adventure.” Bits of crumbs and sauce now stained Rachnee’s face but she focused on playing, Centorea dutifully shoving more food into her gluttonous mouth and finally, twelve minutes since the feeding began, Lucifer was dead and the screen showed an ending.
Turing off the system, Rachnee wrapped a couple legs along Centorea’s right flank. “Thanks hor-I mean Centorea.”
Centorea rested her right hand on Rachnee’s human-esque arm. “After the feat of skill and bravery I just witnessed, you can call me Cerea, noble friend.”
“Cerea huh? Alright, Cerea, since you’re being so buddy-buddy with me and you fed me and didn’t complain once about the mess or smell I made, do you think we could do this say one day out of the week from now on?”
“I will, Rachnee, but only if you promise to keep on fighting evil-doers like Lucifer.”
“Oh, trust me Cerea, I’ve got a long list. M. Bison, Veran, Dahlia Hawthorne, The Witches of Crookback Bog, and on and on. Lucifer was just the first since he’s kinda like the head of the snake. Maybe Miia’s related to him, now that I think about it.”
“Rachnee, please, Miia is a fine friend and the first of Master’s guests. She deserves respect, just like any other liminal or human.”
“I was just joking, Cerea, she’s fine. By the way, when did Honey say he’d be coming home?”
“Ah, yes, about that…I believe Papi told me in her latest postcard that there was a misunderstanding so the trip has been extended by a whole year, if you can believe it!”
“A whole year without Honey over a misunderstanding, huh? Honestly the guy seems to be living in a romantic comedy some days. Well good thing we’ve got one another, good food, and tons of entertainment, right?”
“I agree, but you never seemed the type to enjoy fighting evil-doers. Why start now?”
“Well you and the rest of the group have rubbed off on me a bit. I’m not going to completely change my stripes though. This is what I’ll be doing, besides stuffing my face and enjoying myself, most of the time. I’m glad you’re encouraging me!”
“Any opportunity to fight evil is always welcome and I know you’ll do great Rachnee. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I must eat myself.”
“Just eat up here and you can watch me fight evil again or maybe you want to fight against me?”
“Alright, I will eat up here but fight against you? As in spar? Hone your techniques for your battles against those evil villains you named?”
“Hand me one of those devices and let us fight!” A loud growl rang out from Centorea’s stomach then, the centauride blushing. “After I eat, of course.”
“Of course,” Rachnee replied, shooting a strand of webbing out and nabbing the bag, bringing it up to her meal patsy. Friend, she corrected herself, my new friend. Her new friend proceeded to really go to town on those veggies, Rachnee quite pleased at her appetite, not thinking the usually reserved and oh-so-prideful horse butt had it in her. It was then, as another button popped from Cerea’s shirt, exposing her rapidly reddening middle, that Rachnee couldn’t help herself. “Want your belly to catch up to your chest, Cerea? Or is it your butt you’re trying to beat?”
“I beg your pardon, Rachnee?”
“Your belly there is very nice. Obviously you’ve been having more than veggies.”
“No, I’ve been sticking purely with my usual diet. Though lately I’ve been eating more, due to my straying from my path as a warrior. Your dedication has inspired me though and from this day forward I shall strive my very best to return towards that path.”
“Glad I could help,” Rachnee said under her breath, watching amusedly as her horse-reared pal fumbled with a controller. “Grip it like this,” Rachnee replied, showing her the proper way, a loud noise suddenly echoing all around.
“What was that?” Then the stench came to Centorea’s nostrils and her eyes watered. “Oh, how foul! Surely this is Lucifer’s final blow against you!”
“That was a fart, Cerea.”
“Oh…I did not know spiders could produce flatus.”
“I’m only part spider, though yes, that was a spider fart. My mouth can belch with the best of them though. Why are’t you asking me to apologize yet?”
“Flatulence is a natural part of the body and besides, the volume of my own expulsions can often be heard through the walls. It’s something I’ve grown used to, though your stench is very extreme. Perhaps you should see a physician?” A burbling, drawn out howl of a fart burst from the centauride’s rump then, outdoing the noise Rachnee had just made.
“Holy hell, Cerea! That was foul!”
“Please, it smells like they always do, now could you aid me in figuring out this odd contraption?”
“Sure thing,” Rachnee answered.
Routine set in over the weeks that followed until, two and a half months since Centorea had first fed her friend, the centauride took stock of her figure. The musculature around her middle was nothing but memory these days. In their place was a drooping apron of a belly that was close to halfway past the middle of her equine front. Her breasts had barely changed, just a tad softer. Her face, on the other hand, was sopping up the calories from her increasingly larger meals nearly as quickly as her belly. Incredibly soft cheeks, a double chin with a third nearly fully complete, even the bridge of her nose looked hefty!
How different from Rachnee’s human upper-half. Her friend had gobs of flesh for arms these days, the chitnous exterior mere armor for the soft flesh beneath. The flesh had fully cracked through that hard outer shell, revealing dainty fingers and pale skinned arms much like her own, though the hanging, doughy, curtain-like gobs of adipsoe hanging from those arms caused an obvious dichotomy. Besides her arms, Rachnee’s breasts were bigger than Centorea’s, and saggy, wide blobs by this point, looking like her current gut only smaller. Rachnee’s human stomach just barely pooched out, nearly disqualifying itself as a pot belly. The arachnid lower half of her friend was nearly all fat beneath the outer shell and sometimes Centorea could see the mass jostling this and that way whenever a web was spun or Rachnee got up to use the restroom. Speaking of webs, the stuff was hardly around the house these days, the majority of it in a great pile all around Rachnee’s bed/couch and corners of her room. The yellow had only increased in its vibrancy, the whiteness of her original strands lost to time.
Even though Rachnee clearly didn’t care about how large she was getting, or the various smells that were emitting from her, BO or otherwise, Centorea was annoyed. She had only been fiercer on herself with her training, her patrols, and her meditation. The time spent with Rachnee and honing a new perspective on fighting evil increased as well, so why? Why did she smell like her droppings mixed with a pile of weeks old trash? Why did her flatulence and belching only increase? She knew, deep down, that she was enjoying herself, happy to experience something other than the routine that her life was now in of striding the warrior’s path. But she needed an outside perspective, knowing Rachnee would just want her to give into this liminal state of joy and excitement about being so big and letting loose whenever and wherever. So, removing her gaze from the obese centauride in the mirror, Centorea dialed her mother.
“My little Cerea is a big woman now!”
“Mother, please, I know my appearance is unbecoming of a warrior, but-“
Her mother had her in a quick hug, silencing her following words. “Shush now, dear, and don’t go on about the warrior code of honor and such claptrap. You know I never liked you following the traditional ways.”
“But you let me anyway.”
“Because I love you Cerea, and you clearly wanted to do so. Now what’s got you calling me to come over and visit? Has that human decided to realize his feelings for you?”
“No, mother, and honestly I’ve given up on pursuing him. He obviously loves another, but enough talk about Master. My body’s expansion and my odors are why I asked after you.” A few fairly loud, for centaur standards, farts had already erupted from her equine rump, poisoning the room but her mother didn’t draw attention to them.
“You know I don’t train warriors anymore, honey, so if you’re asking for aid to get back into shape I-“
“I’m starting to enjoy this mother! I love eating, I love gorging on food and making those noises that would surely ruin any chances of fighting stealthily. I want to enjoy myself and grow like my friend Rachnee, but the part of myself that wants to be the best warrior she can is repulsed and I-I don’t know how to reconcile them!”
Her mother backed away then, giving Cerea a keen glance from hoof to head, trotting around and taking in just how much of her daughter there really was. Finally, she stroked along the middle of Cerea’s back, giving her a gentle pinch, Cerea cooing a bit at the touch, feeling her frazzled nerves subside a bit, grateful she could still feel that even after growing so large.
“Let yourself enjoy what makes you happy, honey. You’ve been so wrapped up in being the best warrior you could be, you need some other perspective for a change. Once you’ve had your fill, approach those parts of yourself with clear eyes. Stop thinking about what you can see in front of your fist and start thinking about what you can taste in front of your belly. Do you think you can do that, Cerea?”
“Yes, mother, and thank you.”
“Always, dear one.”
More weeks passed, Centorea’s doubts vanishing like carrots in front of her lips, the centauride coming up with new ways to feed Rachnee and sate her desires. The feeding method she was about to undertake was causing a giddy joy to fill her as she walked up the stairs, her balance as perfect as she could make it.
Once inside the room of her friend and in the correct position, Centorea got as low to the ground as she could, her gut smooshing against the wooden floor, multiple chins quivering as she shoved her fat face into the trough of hearty vegetable soup mixed with various bits of deepfried potatoes and squashes. Her horse half was just passing the two ton mark, the furry folds of her equine back wobbling little by little as she tried her best to balance the tray of ice cream, burgers, and fries Rachnee had wanted for her sixth meal of the day. Behind her, her tail swished uselessly against the inner flab of her massive ass, her rear so huge that it covered her tail completely save for the tuft at the very end. A rumbling vibration of a fart blasted from her, cheeks turning red even as she struggled to fill her fat mouth with more.
Above her, strung on pure yellow strings, was Rachnee, lowering herself bit by bit. Her spider friend was even larger than her, particularly in her lower half, breasts still larger, smell far worse. Even now, surrounded by the stew, Centorea could smell Rachnee much easier than the meal she was consuming. Burps and an odd sound that Centorea now knew meant Rachnee was farting filled her ears as the spider started masticating, bits of her meal falling onto the centauride’s back.
But she didn’t care. She was helping her friend eat, an honorable duty, as well as breaking her fast for the fourth time this day. Equine guts roiling, Centorea vented heartily, Rachnee laughing.
“Good one, Cerea!”
“I thank you for the compliment. Perhaps, after this is done, you would do me the honor of feeding me for a change.”
“A horse that wants to be a pig, who would have thought!” Rachnee crowed, turning her attention back to her meal.
“No thanks to you, my friend,” Centorea replied, resuming her meal with gusto.
“Well don’t expect me to return the favor today. Or tomorrow for that matter.”
“More evil-doers to slay?” Centorea remarked, taking a deep whiff of the air and letting loose a pleased whinny at the combined stench of herself and Rachnee. “But I thank you for being willing to feed me, even if it is only once.”
“Something like that,” Rachnee responded, finishing off the ice cream before concentrating all her attention on the burgers.
Two days after her latest feeding with Cerea, Rachnee was struggling to lift just one of her fingers as it rested on the sole remaining box of Liminal Edibles. She finally succeeded but after four minutes of the most physical effort she’d put into anything besides eating and gaming that week. This was her version of tapping her digits. Her shithead of a Coordinator was responsible for how much of her there was. By total accident Ms. Smith had given her the best experience of her life. Still, the fact that she was again negligent irked the spider-woman. She had done the research, knew what she and Cerea had eaten did to their kind. After obtaining the knowledge, she considered her options. She could use it against the rest of the monster women as they returned from their trip with Honey early next year. She could consume the rest of it for herself. She could share it with Cerea. But all those ideas weren’t quite right, Rachnee decided.
It took two more taps of her fingers before the lightbulb went off in her mind, a cackle escaping her lips.
Four days after her balancing tray act, Centorea was making her way towards the stairs leading towards Rachnee’s room, a plate full of today’s requested food. The extra large, meat filled, cheesy crust, and greasy pizzas almost overcame the stench of her human and equine halves, but not quite. One forward hoof step later though, and her world was suddenly surrounded by yellow. The pizzas were webbed along with her hands. Struggling was useless, the centauride knew from experience. Still, it was quite remarkable that her body was beginning to lift off the ground. Looking up, her neck the only part of her that really could move, though with how much fat there was around that part of her body it was more like her head was just another roll of fat, she saw Rachnee clinging to the ceiling.
“Hello Cerea, I see you brought the food.”
“Yes, and ordered precisely to your specifications.”
“Nothing for yourself?”
“I can eat later.”
“Actually, this is all for you.” Centorea gaped at that, eyes widening as she was observed by Rachnee’s many eyes, a gentle smile on the spider-woman’s lips. “Oh don’t give me that look. I see the way you look at me when I’m stuffing my face with the junk I eat. Even deep-frying your veggies doesn’t quite cut it these days, huh?”
Cerea shook her head. “No…” her voice was softer than at any time Rachnee could recall. “But I’m an herbivore, not meant for-“ A useless jiggle went up from Rachnee’s left arm as she bumped it lazily against Cerea’s face.
“Stop coming up with excuses. You want this, so just open your mouth and let me feed you for a change. Take care of you, for a change.” Centorea nodded, doing as asked, heart pounding as an uneven chunk of pizza was gripped by useless fingers and brought gracelessly over her mouth. Gravity did the rest as Rachnee let go, Centorea overcome by the first taste of the grease, cheese, meat, and sauce. She chewed, munched really, as slow as she could. This first bite brought alien tastes, but not, as she continued masticating, horrific sensations.
“Huff…hagh…OOOROOOORRAAAP! Oh my…Rachnee, that was…that was great!”
Rachne nodded, letting her bask in the afterglow of her first bite of pizza. “That’s the last time you’ll be able to string together a sentence that coherent for the next hour or so.” She pushed herself to grasp with both hands, two mushy piles of pizza shoved into Cera’s mouth, picking up the pace and adding a third, then a fourth, until Cerea’s just on the verge of choking. Rachnee pauses with her shoveling, partly to rest her pathetic fingers but mostly to observe. Cerea’s plump lips are halfway coated in pizza on either side, like lava flowing down the sides of a volcano, a great plume of cheese, meat, and sauce bubbling above the hole that is her mouth. But she can’t see much beyond the fog of pizza filling her, sounds that might be chewing coming to her ears.
GRRRRLLK! SHKKKKLLLER! URGGGAAEK! These noises and more are encased in a burbling mix of saliva and marinara sauce but somehow, after a good three minutes of those continued sounds, the pizza goes down. Rachnee allows some harried breaths before filling her mouth with more of the Italian staple, taking in Cerea’s bloated cheeks and wondering just how much is pizza and how much is fat. She finishes quicker this time, even as sweat is oozing out of her by this point, her mane shining, farts and burps increasing in ferocity and stench.
It only takes three more weak grasps to empty the plate Centorea had put the delivery order on. She’s close to being fully stuffed, she knows, her equine guts churning to digest the mass she’s been fed, but her eyes meet Rachnee’s middle two. “Don’t think that’s all you’re eating. I’ve got so much more for you. Eight limbs worth, in fact.” Those eight limbs come into Centorea’s view then, gaping at their size. Just one limb is larger than half of her gut! And all along those limbs, webbed securely, were french fries, hot dogs, donuts, ice cream, pastas, fried chicken, and on and on until the centauride stopped trying to categorize the food.
Instead she opened her mouth, a spidery limb entering, the softer point touching the back of her throat as it deposited the herald of the feast to come.
“A twenty second burp, nice! Not as good as your two minute fart after the little break we had, but still, good work,” Rachnee commented, letting Centorea get as comfortable as possible on her back half. A few limbs carefully rubbed her friend’s equine gut, while others were gently kneading her human stomach. “Wondering how you can possibly still be alive after eating enough food for two centaur families in two hours?”
“My girth, of course,” Centorea spoke, the first words she’d said since being lowered to the ground and let loose from Rachnee’s webs.
“Liminal Edibles, a banned food some corporate slimballs tried to market as the any liminal wonder food. That’s why both of us have our lovely figures, fantastic gas, and heavenly body odor.”
“Those odd wafers…” Centorea murmured.
“Yep, all thanks to our fuckhead of a Coordinator.”
“Is it responsible for altering mental states?”
“No, it just changed us at a genetic level. Whatever you’re worried about in that fat head of yours is all you.”
“I’m not worried, just curious. I’m grateful I found that package.”
“Me too, but guess what?”
“I’ve got one box left.”
“I don’t think we need it.”
“It’s not for us. It’s to payback that woman. Think of the evil she could have caused if the others were home and had gotten it first? Or if a poor liminal had it delivered to their home instead?”
“I understand, but it shouldn’t have any effect on a human.”
“That’s how fucked up this stuff is,” Rachnee said, using a limb to rattle the cardboard box for effect.
“Let us have her reap what she sowed then, Rachnee.”
“I knew you’d see things my way, Cerea.”
Ms. Smith brought the soda to her mouth, beginning to chug the wonderful liquid down her throat. “Mmmmph….MMMMMPHGH! AHHHHH! UUUURRRRAAAAPPPPP!” She gave a series of giggles after her burp, tossing the now empty two liter bottle to a corner of her office that once had a trash can. Now it just contained an ocean of empty styrofoam, fast food bags, and cans. Pressing a button on her desk, she waited for the prompt response.
“Yes, Ms. Smith?”
“Manako, bring in a-urp-another of the bags.”
“Right away, ma’am.”
Ms. Smith brought a hand to her belly then, letting the tubbier digits sink into the multiple rolls she now had. If she wasn’t so caught up in how amazing all this food and drink tasted these days, she would have been upset. As it was, she moaned as the euphoric pleasure she’d been feeling more and more often after eating or drinking filled her mind.
A button popped off her recently tailored XXXL business suit, a tear coming to life as she sat up a bit more once Manako entered the office, arms filled with fast food bags.
Manako, for her part, took in the slightly fogged up sunglasses sliding down her boss’s nose, the cellulite coming in along her face, the extra chin she now had, and, most strikingly, the way both her eyes were overtaking the flesh between them. In fact, if she wasn’t mistaken, it almost looked like she was turning into a Monoeye but that wasn’t possible. A human couldn’t just turn into a liminal!
“What are you staring at?!” Ms. Smith roared, drawing Manako’s attention back towards the reason she was here in the first place.
“R-right, sorry! Here’s your food, please enjoy!”
“HULMPH!” Manako gaped at the speed at which a burger vanished into her boss’s mouth, followed by fries, then chicken nuggets, then another burger. “Mmmpgh, tanks Man-URPko! Whantsh some?!”
“N-no, ma’am, all yours!” Bowing, Manako got out of there, a blast of flatulence ringing out and causing her single blue eye to water a bit. Blinking as she rounded the corner of office hallway, she brought a hand to her hammering heart. “Ms. Smith is so…so cute like that!”
Smiling as she heard her boss make an even bigger pig out of herself, Manako dialed up the pizza and Chinese restaurants in the city, ordering three times what she did a week ago. Giggling after paying for the order with Ms. Smith’s government account, something she ordered all her personal meals and items from, she returned to her desk, sitting down and drifting off to a lovely dream of a Monoeye Ms. Smith begging to be fed by a dominant version of herself.