The clattering of coins against porcelain jittered out from the piggybank. Hemani instinctively tugged the flower patterned piglet tighter to the side of her tank top whilst she walked down the neighborhood, even though the sound rang pleasingly in her ears. Even with no idea of the time she would probably meet up with Saffron at a good time. Whilst brushing the sweat off of her forehead she noticed some streaks of lilac on her palms, the highlights in her hair had become rather worn. With this realization her shaky walk picked up to a slow sprint. “Spare a few coins?” Hemani barely gave the jacket swept boy on the pavement a glance before she responded curtly: “I have nothing for someone like you.” She felt an arm grasp around a tear of her jeans shorts, making her stop for just long enough to hear the bum’s response. “Oh, you misunderstand me.” The boy’s voice was secure and round in tone, Hemani hadn’t noticed how hairy his arms was before he raised up his black hat, or how hairy his legs were for that manner, covered in a greenish brown coat all the way down to his… hooves. “What I meant is,” he reached into a pocket and pulled out a thumb wide, gilded disk, “if you would be interested in some spare coins.”
~ 1 ~
Being led down a path by the satyr boy, Hemani determined that Saffron well deserved to wait for her another hour or so. She clutched her piggybank tightly when they entered a dilapidated hut in an abandoned backyard. A brief glance around revealed just a messy shelve, table and chair within the poor living space. “Not like I got all day, an hour at most and that will set you back a pretty penny.” Once she turned her vison was shrouded with a flurry of tattered cloth, rapidly tugged into the embrace of the satyr’s jacket and shoved downwards. “I am sure you will be worth your weight in gold.” Hemani heard his calm voice above her, in the hold of the quickly shifting and moving jacket she couldn’t make out what was happening. A nimble tail coiling around her arms and restraining her movements. Suddenly. she felt her nose smooshed firmly against a plush, rubbery pucker. Without a moment to gather herself, the soft rim was smooshed onto her head, spreading open with the elasticity of bubblegum and inviting her to the humid abyss within. The rear goatlips smoothly expanded over her head, giving a tender tug around her throat before decisive shove downwards eased her shoulders into the slick grip. With her next breath Hemani felt the wet atmosphere of the colon being guzzled into her lungs. Sturdy, squeaky muscles clenched and squeezed her body, hoisting in her body whilst the pucker convulsed and pulsed to grasp further down her abdomen. The messy, foul air discouraged her from yelling, and what came out between gasps for air was a dampened mangle of -Mwffwth- -nwwNfiff-.Every tug deeper inside Hemani’s body was coated up in sleek, copper smelling liquids exuding from the walls around her, making it a relatively simple task for the rear to gobble up her belly. The girl feel her own respectable bubble butt being smooshed inside with the clenching squeeze of the satyrboy’s cheeks and a moist, muffled -Shoulort-.
~ 2 ~
”Pheow..” The satyr exclaimed gently as they positioned themselves to slowly let their rear sink down and envelop the girl’s legs. -Ooulrrsh- The moist colon clenches and squeezed against those slender legs on the way down towards the floor and finally allowing the warm coated cheeks to connect with the floor, conveyed only with a soft -Dounf-. “Snug like a slug in a meat rug.” Met spoke silently whilst letting a few fingers delighted in exploring the billowing, onion shaped gut. Their jacket had sprawled out relieved after having helped catching such a large snack, revealing the satyr’s slightly chubby breasts and her noticeable lack of a cock. She let out a warm little moan to herself whilst squeezing back the occasional bulge puffing up on her bloated belly. She allowed herself a moment to listen to the bubbly -Grooulrmgl- of her wobbling abdomen and groping around the shifting outlines of the girl’s legs and hands pressing up against her stomach walls. “Another little vixen in my clutches. Personally, a little bit of squirming on your part would be just peachy, it feels so pleasantly spooky with something rummaging around my gurgly furnace. Now, while I can’t give you a heart of gold, I could do the next bes-. Where did your piggybank go?” Met looked around distraught for a moment, then grabbed some chubby folds of her gut and shook it in her lap. A distinct scrambling of porcelain and metal could be heard from inside. “You didn’t drop it? Might be the greediest one yet.” -Swmmach- The slap to her gut caused ripples to wobble across is fleshy mound, and the occupant bouncing around within.
The confines of flesh undulated around her, squeezing in against her body and kneading her tightly within the damp prison. Hemani’s struggles seemed easily restrained just by the layers of sleek, oily flesh. A tremble was sent through the belly, she could feel it in her spine up until she could make out the muted -Ooouuraahp- from outside. It was as if the gut clenched around her tighter, forcing her into its taut embrace. With a last bit of struggle, and a few raspy breaths, Hemani passed out.
~ 3 ~
Over time, the internal workings of the Satyr kneaded her body. With viscous stomach fluids smeared against her body like layers of frosting, her whole form started to become a looser mass of chyme. Yes, the process continued even as Met’s tummy sank back to a flat, is slightly chubbier, state. The mush heated, grounded, reduced and churned by powerful internal muscles. Chunk by chunk was feed deeper into her intestinal tract, gradually transmuting into something new.
~ 4 ~
-Aahouurph-. Met burped with a homely sense of satisfaction, giving her bally a few proud pats. In the moist air of her burp one could see a faint glimmer, as if her breath was sprinkled with glitter. “Think you are done? The really greedy ones usually take another fifteen minutes.” -Broouguglg-. The Rumbling now being closer to her rear made Met nod and crouch down. “Alright, I get the hint.” The satyr felt her legs trembling, something larger than expected seemed lodged right stuck inside. “Nnhhng..” She grunted and reached back to spread her auburn cheeks, fidgeting and adjusting her hooves on the ground to find a stable position. The wrinkled rim clenched firmly behind her, only starting to part around something bleached and white after a few seconds of heavy panting. Her rear spreading up to the round zenith of the hard object and pushing it back and forth whilst Met grunted. “Nng, the tougher they are,” Meet mumbled out softly to herself whilst her pucker convulsed and reluctantly parted for a hard, white plug oozing free, “the better it feels afterwar-aaaaanmm.” -Pwohp-. With a slightly humid plop the object slumped onto the ground, her pucker gaping for a few moments before squeezing back into place. For a few moments Met relaxed and savoured the jolts and shivers of relief coursing through her spine and back. A glance behind her made the satyr smile broadly, the piggy bank had survived the trip.
As the solid load slowly traversed her colon, her pucker flexed and stretched in preparation. The piggy bank looking on from the side, its once colourful flowers now rather blemished. -Chlircklt-. Even with the porcelain porcine outside her body, there was still a slight klirring noise coming from within. The rubbery pit of flesh stopped moving, bulging outwards slowly at an oddly shaped object prodding from within. Within moments the pucker parted around a glistening, yellow little lump, gradually broadening around a perfectly round, golden coin. Met let out a soft coo and clutched her rimp around the edge of the coin, letting it hang for a few moments. Printed on one face of the golden slap was an uninterested, female face with tinted streaks of hair, looking more meticulously crafted than printed. “Mnhaa.” Met said relieved and let the coin drop, bouncing on the shoddy wooden floor with a few -Klatch-. “How is this for making you a pretty penny?” Met said and kneaded her rump gently, hearing a clattering from the oncoming metal slabs before her pucker spread wider one more. Bundles of coins bound together loosely by lukewarm colon fluids wedged their way through the flexible rim just to separate and rain down in a shower of gold. The coins glistened both of the gleaming, precious metal and from the thin film of translucent fluids they brought with them from the depths of her body. -Clankl- -Kliirth- rang out as the coins landed over each other in a slightly wet pile, the occasional odd one landing on its side and rolling along the cracks in the floor. After just a little while her legs were shaking, partly because of how her mind had to adjust to the sensation of dropping so much weight, and partially because her malleable back chute had to stretch and curve around each coin as they drippled out half a dossin at a time. A closer look at the building pile, or puddle, of coins was that all the faces decorating them didn’t quite correspond to one another. Some of them had a smiling face, some look confused, some smirking maliciously and many adorned with just tiny differences in form and looks. Tossed in with the flood of gold were the occasional twinkle of silver and even a copper shilling or two being buried beneath the oozing flow of valuable metals. -Sluouthc- -Clooultch- her backdoor clenched and smacked between larger batches of colon currency. The flood slowed to a trickle, her exhausted pucker squeezing out a few more coins to bounce down the pile of metal. “Ooo, yes, how fortunate you have become, I swear it never stops being funny.” The last coin slipping out with a -shlppulp- and rolling down to bump into the piggy bank. To which, Met made an amused noise.
~ 5 ~
”Seven hundred and fourth five… Forty-six… forty-seven, not bad for someone who had nothing to give me.” Met said whilst skimming through the coins. A shame that most of the coins were not of any value in the current form, a good number of stores would would take issue with that the sides of the coin didn’t quite coincide with the regular currency. Though, many still just accepted gold. Met picked out a few of the silver coins in the bunch and inspected them, suddenly clenching her fist in a victorious pose. “Nearly identical replicas, I am improving every day.” Pocketing the silver she begun the task of filling the piggybank with the remains of its previous owner.
After gathering up her supplies from the hut, stuffing the piggybank into a satchel with her basic necessities, she made sure to tighten up her jacket over her rather broad physique. Met adjusting her hat to accentuate her horns. She tossed up a handful of silver coins and catch them mid air with her other hand. “I think that I’ll treat myself to a smoothie.” She said to herself out loud as she left to head out towards the city..
~ ~ 6 ~ ~
The book shuts close on its own accord. The narrator gives off a satisfied chuckle. “No matter how tempting the voice of greed can be, it can almost always spell disaster. For, when one gives in to the reasoning of avarice, thoughts and proper judgement becomes a lower priority. And of course, following a stranger can turn out to be a particularly, valuable, experience.” With the book under arm the narrator disappears, just as the first beams of sunlight grace the world.
~ ? ~
Met looked up from counting her coins, walking through the ally leading back to the city’s streets. What she saw at the end of the ally made her freeze, seeing a chocolate skinned girl with pale gray hair in a neat drill cut. “Tam?”