#implied digestion

Guys, what do you prefer:

Gooey + painless digestion + reformation

Gooey + painless digestion - reformation

Hard digestion but painless + reformation

Hard digestion + reformation

Have some Miye belly to tide yourselves over for now </3

Dr. Jenson. . .compares biblical meditation to a cow "chewing her cud." The cow swallows the food. regurgitates it, chews it some more. and eventually it is completely digested. This illustrates how one meditates on the Word of God. [Repeatedly]

For the word of God is alive and active. Sharper than any double-edged sword, it penetrates even to dividing soul and spirit, joints and marrow; it judges the thoughts and attitudes of the heart. (Hebrews 4:12)

Yeahhh I’m with you. I hate needles and losing my own blood but that’s (part of) why I much prefer the idea of doing or simply watching the biting.

I really enjoy both the visceral experience of sinking teeth into something, pulling it apart and getting a good look at all the bits inside and making it all disappear bit by bit…

But also swallowing something whole and having the prey still be alive and struggling, but just as helpless, is as equally good. Hard choices.

part two of this

"Don't have to answer me right this second, Emily. Just pull me up." Carla requested. Emily obliged.

"Have any idea if we can get out?" Emily asked, nervous. "Security's already left. Doors are locked."

"They open fine from the inside," Carla said glibly, rolling her shoulders. "If that's what you're asking."

Emily huffed. "Oh." She'd save her real objections for the walk to Carla's apartment. Carla draped Emily's jacket around her and kissed her on the cheek, eliciting another red-hot blush, before lightly smacking her on the back.

As Carla promised, no security in sight. They quietly slipped onto the street and started the walk, Emily walking at her usual brisk pace. She didn't know what to think.

"This always feels so good, Em, but with you? Transcendent, truly." Carla said. Emily looked at her for clarification. What had Carla been doing? It was only three years since they graduated.

"You've heard the rumors. Veronica Lane would have turned thirty on Friday. She knew they'd have dropped her that very minute. She dropped out of Barnard for the business. Lied, cheated, and stole to get where she got, but it didn't matter," Carla said grimly, "she knew she'd be out on the street."

Emily nervously pressed her lips together, swiftly breaking and restoring eye contact. "…Continue."

"I helped her just now, you know. She enjoyed herself on her way out." Carla cooed, petting her stomach fondly. "'Specially since it was you feeling her up. She'd had that particular desire for a little while."

Emily's expression could only be described as mildly horrified as she stopped in her tracks. "How do you know this?"

"We were…confidants. She never did muster up the courage to tell you. Found the very prospect mortifying," Carla explained wistfully, "but now her secret is sealed. Only you and I will ever know, now. Keep walking. I'm saving the best for last."

Emily exhaled and put her head down, focusing only on putting one foot in front of the other. Carla smiled at her as a teacher smiles at a novice. Was this meant to be comforting? She'd helped her former school bully digest someone alive.

They arrived at a nondescript apartment building in an alley just off of 42nd. "We've made it, baby girl. Second door to the left on floor three."

Emily stepped into the apartment, closing the door behind her once again. The apartment struck her as too clean. Right off to the side of the main hallway, there was an oven. It had clearly been on for at least two days, and its contents were pots. Emily grew more concerned. Weren't they both receiving model pay? It wasn't much…right?

"Can I…Can I sit? Don't want to ruin anything." Emily said cautiously. "Looks expensive in here."

Carla whipped her head in Emily's direction, looking at her like she had grown a second head. "You must be joking. For what I'm gonna give you, it'll go down better if you sit. Wouldn't mind if you laid out, either."

Emily inhaled. "This isn't encouraging, Carla," she said. "But I guess I trust you." She sprawled on the loveseat, closing her eyes and effortfully quieting her breathing.

Emily watched as Carla walked to the oven. As soon as Emily couldn't see anymore, Carla smiled to herself. She crouched down and opened the oven, painstakingly combing through the contents of the pot with her fingers. The black slugs inhabiting the pot ceased to wrap their mouths around each other and scrambled to her hand, curling around her digits as children clinging to their mother.

"Shh. No fighting just yet, or none of you get to come out." Carla whispered. She plucked one of the creatures from the pot. It was especially slippery, but immediately clung to her index finger. She brought the slug curled around her finger to her tongue. It smelled of blood. Tasted of blood. This one will do.

"Oh, you ate so well, didn't you? Now for the fun part, little one." Carla said, a smile creeping into her voice. She gingerly placed the slug on her tongue, though it squirmed against her cheeks.

Carla walked back into the living room, where Emily was currently staring at the wall bearing an expression of pure dread. "Sit up," Carla said. "I've got something for you."

Emily sat up to find Carla leaning down above her, cheek gently pressed against cheek. Carla pressed her lips to hers, and the slug scrambled out onto Emily's tongue.

Emily was seized by terror as the creature found its way around. She wanted nothing more than to disgorge the foul thing. One of Carla's hands found its way to the back of Emily's head, fingers splayed out as if holding the head of an infant, with the fingers of the other hand curled around Emily's chin.

"Swallow," Carla said. Emily obliged, choking down the worm. As the worm disappeared past Emily's palate, Carla pushed a finger against Emily's throat and reverently traced the worm's path down, down, down, until it finally disappeared behind Emily's ribs. Emily gulped once more.

Emily schooled her expression. It really did feel better. Carla watched her intently.

"Thanks, Em. That little thing will do wonders for you, just you wait." Carla promised. She yawned, almost exaggeratedly long and loud, and Emily caught a glimpse of the most horrifying sight: sharp teeth, like a lamprey's jaw, seated just behind Carla's teeth.

Emily scrunched up her face and scrambled back. Carla closed her mouth and licked her lips.

"You can crash at my place tonight. Won't need food tomorrow, but you'll be starvin' the day after that." Carla said.

Emily put on a brave face. "…Well, have you got anything in your fridge?"

Carla smiled to herself and shook her head. "The fridge won't help you, I'm afraid," Carla explained, "but I've got a far better meal in mind." An unsettling smile crept onto Carla's face as the identity of the soon-to-be victim of Emily's nascent hunger materialized in her mind.

"Like…like the one you made of Veronica just now?" Emily asked, terror in her voice.

"Precisely."

"Do you have a plan, at least?"

Carla snorted. "Of course I have a plan. I…eat him up, then you eat him up. Literally, in your case."

Emily felt shame wash over her as something she could never say snuck onto her tongue. "Can I watch you…do your part?"

Carla smiled softly, though barely veiling her glee. "You'll do far more than watch. It'll feel so good, Emmy." Carla hesitated. "Patience is a virtue, though. Didn't you learn that back in Tennessee?"

Emily gulped again as the slug squirmed in her own stomach. She grew nauseous. Her body yearned so badly to disgorge the thing, even if it meant ruining Carla's carpets.

Carla hummed. "Sleep, now. It'll help." She placed her fingers on Emily's eyelids and gently closed them.