Behind the mask
Behind the Mask
By Strega
The room was dim, and the breath of the lone occupant fogged as she stretched out in front of the controls. She was already hooked into the system; all that was left was to don the thought-transfer helmet and activate her toy. She was ready to play her favorite game.
*****
SuzyAnne peered into the clearing and gauged the risk. The outer edges of the meadow around the lagoon were not too dangerous, with few roaming predators, and the fruit trees there were the only source of food for non-carnivores. No doubt whatever malevolent power created the Swamp and trapped people here planned it that way: if they were not to starve, the prey must come in reach of the predators.
She could see some activity near the water, and hear conversations. There was a scream, suddenly muffled off into silence. Someone was being eaten, most likely being swallowed alive.
The rim of the meadow appeared as safe as it ever got. Suzy picked two oranges from a tree and settled down cross-legged underneath. From her shoulder bag she took a shiny-new folding knife and began to cut one into segments.
She'd been aware of the raccoon for some time. Small for a male, shy, and as paranoid about practically everything as was anyone who survived for long in the Swamp, he'd watched her come and go for days. Each time he edged a little closer, thinking she didn't see him.
Suzy hid a smile. Here was another who didn't realize that even a cute little skunkette could be a threat. She would have to educate him.
"Hi," he said shyly, only his nose projecting from the bushes. Suzy instantly fluffed up her tail and brandished the knife. She'd found that putting on a show of fright helped lure them in, and hopefully paved the way for her to enjoy a really satisfying meal.
"I just want to talk," he said, holding up his hands. He was unknowingly mimicking the last poor soul, lost and lonely in the Swamp, who'd approached her for company. Suzy kept her amusement firmly hidden as she looked him over, instead maintaining her own half-panicked look.
He stood only an inch taller than her five foot two, and was slender in that still-needs-to-grow-muscles way. She guessed he was somewhere between eighteen and twenty years old. Eventually, convinced he wasn't a predator feigning weakness, while herself pretending to not be such, she lowered the knife.
"All right," she said. "I'm Suzy. Are you new here?"
He sat down a few feet away. Again he mimicked the behavior of the last person to talk to her. And the one before that, for that matter.
"I'm Ryan. I don't know how long I've been here." He rubbed his palms on his thighs; he wore only a pair of sweat pants that were torn off below the knees. Unlike the wolf she'd eaten a few weeks back, he didn't glance at her breasts every few seconds. Possibly gay? He would be trickier to seduce, but this time she'd perfumed her tail before entering the clearing. He wasn't quite close enough to get a good noseful of the drug, but she was patient. Hungry, but patient.
"It's all right," she said, and scooted a little closer with a shy but friendly smile. A couple more feet and the perfume would start to do its work. "I don't know either. I was out picking mushrooms one day. I saw a path I didn't remember, I thought I knew the woods so well...."
He nodded. "I was hiking with some friends. The three of us ended up here instead of the lake we were heading to. John and Amanda, they didn't last long here."
She let her eyes tear up a bit in sympathy. Waterworks on command was a useful skill she'd spent time developing. "Neither did my friends. Well, friends I met here. Thank goodness I was alone when I came here, at least my family is all right." A well-practiced sigh, almost a sob. "But the ones I met here. Matt, he was a rat, he didn't last a day. The human girl, I never even learned her name! Then poor Jacob. Oh god, Jacob."
He edged close enough to put his hand on her knee comfortingly. Her tail swept around as she suppressed a sob, 'accidentally' ending up against his own. His nose wrinkled up, but he was too polite to say anything about her powerfully scented tail-perfume.
It was only a matter of time now. She was rushing things a little; normally she'd have talked longer. She particularly liked raccoons, though, and she was very hungry.
Ryan blinked. He put a hand back to support himself; suddenly even sitting up took an effort. He was confused. Slowly his arm bent as he weakened.
"Are you all right?", she said with feigned concern. Almost there; she worked her jaws to surreptitiously disjoint them. In a few more seconds she could lean forward, yawn, and begin to feed. If his tail were longer, long enough to extend past his feet, things would be even better. Long, ringed tails served as depth-gauges to show just how far down the gullet their owners were. Ryan would be a perfectly satisfactory meal, though.
But things suddenly went wrong. As she leaned forward mock-helpfully, ready to stretch her jaws around his face, Ryan twitched.
She'd not paid any attention to the sky, save to occasionally scan for movement. The sun, clouds and stars did not captivate her. Her interests were strictly terrestrial, the quest for her next meal. That was why she hadn't noticed that the moon, just rising, was full.
Ryan snarled and thrust out a hand. Suzy went over backward, startled by his strength. He shouldn't have so much energy left! With so much of the drug in his system he should barely be able to move.
He was scrambling to his feet even as she regained hers. And he was...bigger? Shaggier, at least. And suddenly she was sure he was bigger. He was a head taller than she was now, broader across the shoulders, more muscular. He was as large now as the wolf she'd eaten, bigger, heavier, and stronger than she was. Mass was appearing from nothing and that meant magic.
She saw the moon past his shoulder and realized what was happening. A therianthrope! They were rare, and one that changed from an anthro-animal form into a Wereform of the same type were rarer still. She might suspect a human of being a were, but it hadn't occurred to her to wonder about Ryan.
He easily twice her mass now, shaggy, short-legged, long-armed. He put down one hand without thinking and stood three-footed without crouching. He was almost feral, and he was still growing. Suzy backed away. Well-made as her drugs were, they were not a sure thing against a rapidly changing metabolism. The movement caught his attention and he turned, pouncing on all fours. He was halfway between anthro and nonanthro shapes now and changing as she watched.
And fast. He was too fast. Suzy cursed as he bowled her over, trapping her under his long-fingered furry hands. He was still not too large to eat if only he'd succumb to her drug, and she flipped her tail up to press against his chest. He snarled and brushed it aside. The stink of her perfume was strong even in her nostrils, it must be overpowering in his and yet he didn't slow down.
His shorts were stretched tight around his larger form and his sheath was a formidable bulge. Seduction was a useful tool in a her repertoire and gave her drug more time to work; she'd had several enjoyable romps with males who eventually ended up as a bulge in her middle. Suzy wrapped her legs around the Were-raccoon's waist and reached down to rub his groin.
But Were-Ryan wasn't interested. He trapped her arms against her sides, pulled her upward and yawned. Suzy saw his jaws stretch wide and knew he was bent on swallowing her. Partial shapechangers like Weres could distend their maws in ways that only magic or, as in her case, careful engineering could equal. His gullet opened like a glistening tunnel and there was simply nothing she could do to stop him from shoving her muzzle in.
What happened next was a mirror of what she had done to many others. Her drugs weakened them, and her jaws gradually engulfed them until with a few last laborious gulps they were gone. She was at full strength, but the Were-raccoon was up to almost three times her mass and was far, far stronger. He pushed his jaws down over her shoulders, taking her whole head and neck into his throat, and swallowed massively.
Suzy squirmed and kicked, managing to get a good knee into the thing's groin, but she was already sure he had her. It took a lot more to hurt a Were than a few kicks and a skunkette's manicured claws. His jaws lurched, taking in her breasts, and another ravenous gulp pulled her in to the waist. Great peristaltic ripples in his throat tugged her in, and already her head was far enough in to hear the gurgling belly that awaited her. Magically powered or not, the transformation tended to leave its subjects half-starved and not at all picky about their food.
Luckily for him, a meal had been close at hand. Thick saliva gummed Suzy's fur as he fed, slicking her down for easier swallowing. A few more gulps and he would have his meal.
Suzy cursed. She had one more weapon, but it was a last resort. She didn't like spraying her musk any more than others liked being sprayed. It might make him gag, though, and if he coughed her back up there was still a chance her drug might take effect. Once his transformation was complete he should be vulnerable again. A three-hundred-pound raccoon would be a massive meal, and she'd have to drag herself heavily off to a quiet place to digest him, but it was possible.
But as she moved her tail aside to spray his jaws lurched forward once more. She had waited too long, and his fangs were scraping over her thighs. Her tail was pressed flat over her dress and rump. She could still spray, but it would go into her own tail, and the root of that organ was already down the raccoon's gullet. He might get a whiff, but it wouldn't be enough.
Suzy squirmed as the gulp pushed her face into the raccoon's stomach. It was hardly the first time she'd been down a throat, but never before had her intended prey turned the tables so neatly. Usually her descent into a predator's stomach was either voluntary or part of a larger plan. This was neither. Her approach of hiding in plain sight had run smack into an equally subtle predator who was resistant to her one means of evening the odds. Maybe Ryan didn't even know he was a predator; certainly if he did, he hid it well.
With a series of strong, confident gulps the raccoon finished his meal. Feral and hungry he gulped her down, and his powerful swallowing muscles pushed her into the fleshy confines of his stomach. There was nothing to push against that wasn't soft, yielding, and coated thickly with lubricating slime. Her tail was sucked into his jaws, pulled in by her own descent down his throat. It joined her in his stomach, and Suzy curled up crossly inside the raccoon.
In her passage through his creaking ribcage Suzy had heard and felt the changes he was still undergoing. Only as she settled in his guts did the raccoon finish transforming. It only added to her irritation when she felt him falter. Now, finally, the drugs in her perfume were having their effect. He'd rubbed his muzzle through her thick tailfur as he swallowed her, and his pelt was impregnated with the powerful weakening agent. Even after she was gulped down he still breathed it in. She felt him settle down, then fall on his side. The Were grunted and complained as he tried to regain his feet and failed.
But mixed in with the complaints was a long, rumbling belch. He was burping up the air that went down with her, and while her perfume had all but paralyzed his voluntary muscles, it had no effect on internal organs. As his stomach acids soaked through her fur and stung her nose, Suzy frowned and cursed one last time. He would digest her whether he could move or not. Only her fur and fragments of nearly dissolved bone would be recognizable when his body was done. The rest would be digested, absorbed, or passed as waste. Most likely he'd cough up a big wad of black and white fur.
She wondered what would happen when Ryan resumed his normal form, but then realized it didn't matter. By the time the moon set she'd be half digested. Whether he was forced to cough up her remains or was left with a humorously distended belly, the result was the same for her.
There were still a few breaths of air, but Suzy closed her eyes. She twitched briefly, and died. It was a though a switch had been thrown. One had.
*****
In the dim, chilly room, the lone inhabitant flicked her whiskers irritably. She stabbed a control with a claw and pulled off the helmet she wore. Other wires, which disappeared into her fur at various points on her body, popped loose as she twitched her pelt. A last few connections were more intimate. She grumbled as she curled around to remove them. It'd be simpler to put a control node in her own brain, but she didn't like the idea. It only took a few minutes to 'plug in', anyway.
"Darn it all," Strega said. "And he looked so tasty, too. Darn magic anyway."
She hadn't even gotten to play with him! The were-raccoon might have been a fun lover. If he ate Suzy afterward, well, she could handle that. Nine Suzies had been through her wolverine lover's digestive tract. She could handle having one becoming food for another predator.
Probably she could handle it. Two of those Suzies had been eaten by other predators before the handsome wolverine ate them in turn. On those occasions, though, Strega had been using the skunkette as bait. Sometimes Suzy had a nice meal, other times....
If Labrus had been around, the were-raccoon's tail would be disappearing down a musteline gullet even now. Even if he weren't weakened, he was sufficiently full of skunkette that her lover would catch him easily. She had sensors planted all over the Swamp and following Labrus on such occasions so she could watch. She didn't mind losing a Suzy if the big wolverine ended the encounter with a satiated belch.
But without Labrus, and without much foreplay -- a term she used to refer to any activity that proceeded someone being eaten -- it had not been an interesting encounter at all. Strega grumbled.
She could go to the Swamp herself and eat the raccoon, but that would be mean-spirited. He ate Suzy fair and square, magic or not. He deserved his meal. She'd just have to decant another one. Strega played with controls. Come to think of it, she'd been thinking of updating Suzy anyway....
Her only personal encounter with Labrus had left her uncomfortably bloated. He was half again her mass and his hindquarters had lingered in her gullet for more than a day as his foreparts dissolved.
That wasn't the only reason she was unhappy after her meal. Few local males interested her sexually. Oh, she appreciated them conversationally, or for their ability to wiggle on the way down, or for their possession of a particularly fluffy tail to admire as it slipped into her muzzle. But sexually? No. On the other hand, and rather to her surprise, many of these males were attracted to her. It was a useful lure, and they made fine meals.
Occasionally, though, a local male did excite her. Labrus had aroused her more than any local male ever. Resembling an oversized, four legged male of her kind, she'd welcomed his fangs in her scruff and his determined sexual advances. But force of habit had prevailed; she'd released a paralytic toxin into her sex as they mated, then swallowed the poor confused brute whole.
And had immediately regretted it. Guilt? Surely it was not that. But the feeling persisted even after she remade the wolverine using her technology and released him into the Swamp. As she slept off the enormous meal she dreamed that he'd been the one to eat her.
It was not unheard-of for her to imagine feeding herself to a strong male. This time she resolved to do something about it. Not go to him again, no. Instead she would make up for eating him by providing him a lover and meal.
Suzy Mark I was a simple thing, a cute little skunkette based on data from several other skunkettes she'd eaten. With the exception of her being able to swallow large prey herself (after all, why not?), she was indistinguishable from a typical skunk. Like later models, this one had no mind of her own. Faster-than-light communications with the control devices in Suzy's brain made it easy to 'pilot' her around the Swamp. Various connections to her body meant Strega felt everything Suzy did, though she installed feedback limiters in the event something too painful happened.
Labrus was not there the day Suzy made her appearance, so Strega fell back on her usual habits. A friendly aardvark-thing approached her, and he was one of those impossible-to-explain people who looked forward to being eaten. Suzy waddled laboriously out of the clearing, stuffed to bursting.
What to do with a remote-controlled skunkette gorged to near-immobility and unable to act on her own? Strega ate her, of course.
The second Mark I ran into Labrus and fulfilled her destiny: she (and by extension Strega) enjoyed every inch the big weasel had to offer before his jaws creaked wide. Strega learned that he could keep people alive inside him for some time; nevertheless she deactivated that Suzy, satisfied that she had repaid him. He could digest the skunkette at his leisure.
Suzy had proven remarkably entertaining, and Strega had some ideas for improvements. The Mark II did everything the previous model did, with added unbirthing fun and a chemically altered "six shooter" in place of the usual stink glands under her tail. Only one was made; while successful, the need to make the pelvis flexible enough for unbirthing made it difficult to walk. Even so the Mark II Suzy gained fully twenty-five pounds on her rich diet before Labrus reappeared. The extra weight merely made her that much more satisfying a meal for the wolverine when their mutual lust was sated.
Suzy Mark III differed from the first model only in having slightly more complex jaws. Rather than the six shooter of the IIs, she used drugged perfume to weaken her prey. It was a cheap, disposable - and very entertaining - toy.
It was through the IIIs that she established a real relationship with her lover-by-proxy. Through them Strega slept with the big weasel, mated with him, lured prey to his jaws and fed him herself. It was the most fun she'd had in years. Even when Labrus was not around Strega would 'play' Suzy. Local males - and females -- interested her more by proxy than they ever had in person, and Suzy had a series of one night stands with soon-to-be-digested lovers. She didn't even need to worry about the skunkette fattening up on her high-calorie diet. Either Labrus would happen by and end that problem with a burp, or she would grow bored with operating that particular Suzy and solve that issue the same way. Sooner or later the urge would return and she'd make another Suzy to send to the Swamp. It was almost addictive.
Now it was time to make another. A few simple changes: Suzy badly needed some inward-hooking 'snake' teeth to keep prey from pulling back out. Maybe a bit more fluff to her tail: males liked it, and she herself enjoyed slurping it up. Retractile claws? No, that might give potential prey a clue that she wasn't what she seemed. A bit of autonomy: Some pre-programmed routines, tail brushing, sleep-wake-eat-use-the-bathroom cycles so she didn't have to put a Suzy in stasis or eat it when she wanted a break....
Her whiskers flicked in a weaselly smile. Yes, it was fun to play the skunkette, and maybe she'd run into that raccoon once more. She knew his secret now, and she'd reserve a special place in Suzy's stomach for that sneaky 'coon.
Strega smiled and touched a control.