{"sf1_id":642959,"sf2_id":"k1VgPYQe","title":"Sunrise (balloonie sex and vore)","author":"Strega","words":9435,"posted_at":"2014-01-04T20:51:00.000Z","tags":["Digestion","Fox","Halfling","Human","M/F","Raccoon","Sex","Transformation","Vore (soft)","Wolverine"],"url":"https://fse.anthro.fr/stories/642959-sunrise-balloonie-sex-and-vore","original_url":"https://sofurry.com/s/k1VgPYQe","image_url":"https://cdn.sofurryfiles.com/submissions/thumbnails/74/22/7422b9c5-1752-4f53-905b-2aeac977a837","description":"A story to introduce the third of three inflatable predators. I've always planned there to be three, one male gul (wolverine folk), a vixen and a female raccoon. It's only taken ten years to write the story about the third. 83","content":" **Sunrise**\n\nBy Strega\n\nHe was a man of many names, this wizard. By birth he was Ruhollah Rushiadah, a child of\n\nKet in the west, where the nomads built their cities to trade with the fair-skinned easterners.\n\nHis name being a mouthful for those not used to it, he went by \"Alias\" during his adventuring\n\ncareer. A simple, obvious nickname, but it worked.\n\nWhen the Arch-Mage Alias came to the Lortmil mountains in the fullness of his powers and bent his\n\nknee to Lord Gray, ruler of Greyston and its surroundings, he was proclaimed the Duke of the\n\nSouth Court, His Grace Lord Alias, Ruhollah Rushiadah.\n\nBut mainly he was called the Maker, after his habit of making...well, people. First he had made the\n\nlittle Praka raccoon-folk, clever of mind and hand but unable to speak human tongues due to\n\nthe structure of their muzzle and vocal chords. With that experiment a success he'd finally, after\n\nyears of planning, turned his fox familiar into a fox-man, and made others to keep Chula the\n\nfox company. Thus was born the Volpa race, tall and handsome and keen of wit.\n\n\u0026nbsp;But then he'd turned his mind to warriors, and the Gul wolverine-folk could only be called a failure at\n\nfirst. Violent, predatory and vicious, their entire first generation had died in battle when they\n\nsank to raiding and plunder in their Maker's absence. He'd almost ended it there, but an\n\nassistant convinced him that with some minor alterations - notably, a more social, less savage\n\nnature - a gul race could be useful.\n\nNow there were three growing races under his rule, and a substantial belt of mountain and foothills\n\nlargely at peace, with his furred races mixed among the dwarves, humans and other smooth-skinned\n\nfolk. For forty years he'd ruled, and most in the lands would have it no other way.\n\nSo it was that on this Starday the Arch-Mage Alias, Lord of the South Court His Grace Ruhollah\n\nRushiadah the Maker sat in the smaller of his two audience rooms, flanked by a towering gul warrior\n\nin black armor on one side and his former familiar, Chula the foxman bard on the other. He drank\n\nwatered wine and ate candied figs brought to him by his favorite praka serving-maid as other\n\nattendants bustled in and out, bringing those with grievances and the occasional prisoner to be judged.\n\nIt had been a deathly dull morning, replete with properly-line disputes and who-owned-which-sheep\n\nsorts of complaints. As lord of the lands he saw it as his duty to adjudicate matters not quite solvable\n\nby his underlings.\n\n\u0026nbsp;The only item of real interest so far lay tied up to one side of the room. A Volpa foxman exiled from\n\nthe Maker's lands for various crimes had dared to return, had been caught, and had been judged.\n\nBound and gagged, the fox peered nervously around the room, knowing exactly what was going to\n\nhappen to him when the meeting ended.\n\nConvicted criminals were in great demand in the Maker's lands. When the last complaint of the day\n\nwas solved to the Maker's satisfaction, he would draw a chit from the lottery urn. It was just a\n\nquestion of whose stomach the unfortunate fox would be in come sundown or so. It might be a\n\ngul's, or a rare predatory volpa's, an especially hungry praka's, or even a visiting dragon or other\n\nexotic creature. It didn't really matter as far as the fox was concerned. From the point of view of\n\nthe digestee one intestinal tract is much like another.\n\nSomething had just come to the Maker's attention that swept away the monotony of his day, though\n\n. He leaned forward as one of his lieutenants ushered in a creature the likes of which he'd never seen.\n\nShe squeaked gently when she walked, and for a moment the Maker though he was looking at a nude\n\nprakafemme in a close-fitting rubber suit. But no! He saw the wrinkles form at elbow and knee, the\n\nseams along the sides, and even a bit of light that made its way right through the small-breasted torso.\n\nThis was not a praka in an odd costume. It was an ambulatory balloon, a cunning mockery of a\n\nraccoon-lass from black nose and mask to ringed tail, delicately clawed hands and feet.\n\n\"Well, well,\" the Maker said with keenest interest. \"What do we have here?\"\n\n\u0026nbsp;\"A strange creature,\" his lieutenant said. \"Perhaps some sort of golem.\"\n\nThe little rubbery raccoon-lady glanced from the Maker to the lieutenant, plainly confused. Save for\n\na more elaborate yellow robe on the seated mage and the runic R - the rune for Magic - on the\n\nsimulacrum-lieutenant's forehead, they were alike from sandaled feet to tattooed scalp. Eventually\n\nshe decided, correctly, that the one with the gul and volpa attendants was the real thing.\n\n\"Lord Maker,\" she trilled in Common, and prostrated herself\n\nbefore the man in the plain wooden chair.  \n  \nThat she could speak the common tongue was a surprise, such was her resemblance to a praka. As\n\nfar as he could tell she spoke by vibrating the material of her throat. Not so unlike a normal voice,\n\nor more aptly a singer's.\n\nThat reminded the Maker that he'd heard of a praka bard who had learned to sing in human languages.\n\nIt had lately struck him that their inability to speak Common or Elvish or whatnot was causing the\n\nalready small and sometimes picked-upon coonies grief in lands other than his own. Perhaps he\n\nshould turn his attention to fixing that flaw.\n\n\u0026nbsp;That was a matter for another day, though. \" 'Maker?' \", he said. \"Am I your Maker, little one?\"\n\n\"Yes, Lord,\" she trilled without rising from her bow. \"I am of the prakafolk, before my transformation.\n\nI am Sunrise of Willowby village, my sire is Arrow and my dam is Summer's-Blossom.\"\n\n\"You may rise, little one.\" She went as far as to sit up with her rubbery ringed tail sticking out behind\n\nas the Maker made a small gesture. His praka serving-maid darted from the room to consult with the\n\nrecord-keepers. Willowby was indeed a village in his lands, about ten leagues to the south.\n\nConfident in the skill of the records-raccoons (and -foxes) he took a minute to look her over. The\n\ndetailing was remarkable. Her flexible hide had a fur-like grain to its surface, though it was very\n\nsmooth and shiny. Where one would expect cheekruffs, jagged but rounded contours protruded from\n\nher cheeks. As fellow coonfolk chittered in prakaspeak behind her, one cup-shaped ear swiveled back\n\nto take it in. Yet her body was clearly hollow, as he could see into her mouth when she spoke. This\n\nwas a magical creature. 'Golem' the simulacrum had called her, and that was a good a word as any.\n\n\u0026nbsp;His eye fell on the space between her legs, which was as accurately detailed as the rest of her. No\n\nstranger to the ways in which a little prakafemme and a human man might please one another, he\n\nwondered idly what it would be like to -\n\nHis serving-maid returned at that moment and chittered. She wore a charmed amulet that translated\n\nprakaspeak into Common for the benefit of any visitors not able to understand. No one here was so\n\nlimited, as it happened.\n\n\"Lord Maker, Sunrise of Willowby is reported missing as of a week ago, along with a halfling boy,\n\nEverard. When they did not return from a walk a thorough search was carried out, but the best\n\ntrackers in the village could not find a trail.\"\n\n\"Everard,\" the rubbery prakafemme trilled sadly. \"He was my first love. I wish he could be here with\n\nme.\"\n\nThe Maker stroked his clean-shaven chin thoughtfully. \"Grievance-time is over,\" he said without\n\npreamble. \"Another session will be held next Starday at ten bells. Lord Vrassry,\" he he said to the\n\nmassive gul in black armor. \"You are dismissed. Assign two gul to me as guards while I talk to\n\nSunrise.\"\n\n\u0026nbsp;\"Yes, Lord,\" growled the black-furred wolverine. Harmless as the little rubber praka looked, they\n\nhad learned not to go by appearances. The Maker was powerful in his own right, especially here in\n\nhis own keep, but it couldn't hurt to have some muscle available.\n\nVrassry glanced at the bound foxman, then back at the Maker, who shook his head. The lottery would\n\nhave to wait.\n\nSoon enough it was just the Maker, one almost-Maker simulacrum, his serving-maid Softpaw, Chula\n\nthe fox, and two stolid gul whose eyes rarely left Sunrise the rubber-coon. And of course the eyes\n\npeering through a hidden spyhole or two, for orders or not, Vrassry would not leave the Lord Maker\n\nwith so few guards. No one paid mind to the tied-up fox in the corner.\n\n\"You may rise,\" he repeated gently to the little rubbery praka. This time she rose, standing with hands\n\nclasped nervously.\n\n\"Softpaw,\" he said to his little serving-maid, and she padded over to look at Sunrise. In a dark room it\n\nwould he hard to tell them apart had Softpaw shucked out of her dress and sandals, but here in the\n\nlight there was no confusing fur and smooth-skinned sheen. Each was perhaps an inch short of four\n\nfeet and of similar build, though the hollow coonie must be much lighter.\n\n\u0026nbsp;Softpaw was more than the simple attendant she seemed, and the Maker knew she was using her magic\n\nto examine Sunrise. He was as well, though his was a different flavor of magic. She also sniffed and\n\nfelt at the smooth, slick material of Sunrise's skin, going over her from head to toe.\n\nAlmost head to toe, the Maker thought, and kept his thoughts clean.\n\nEven after examining her he was puzzled. She seemed both alive and not-alive, and magical, but not\n\nas magical as he'd expected. Softpaw caught his eye and tilted an ear. She too had no idea what they\n\nhad here.\n\n\"Sunrise, my distant daughter,\" he began. \"You are of my people, and I would know who did this to\n\nyou.\"\n\n\"It was evening,\" she trilled, and the note of sadness was back in her voice. \"Everard and I went for\n\na walk, to be away from my sisters....\"\n\n\\*\\*\\*\\*\\*  \n  \n\"A walk,\" she chittered, and the curly-haired halfling boy smiled. Curly of head-hair and foot-hair, it\n\nmust be said, for shoes were a foreign concept to halflings. And curly-haired somewhere else too, she\n\nthought with a hidden smile. Though she had fur and he had smooth skin, they were more than friends.\n\n\u0026nbsp;\"I'll make a picnic basket,\" he replied. She'd played with him as long as could remember, the boy from\n\nthe house next door. Like many another riverside town, there were roughly the same number of\n\nhalfling and praka families, and the joke went that if the two races could interbreed there'd be an awful\n\nlot of ringtailed halflings out there. Needless to say, praka and halflings got along quite well.\n\nWhen she reached a certain age and began to entertain thoughts about boys, her mother noticed and\n\ntook her aside for a talk. It was short and to the point, for their house was not large and Arrow and\n\nSummers-Blossom were not always able to get the children to sleep or otherwise arrange privacy\n\nwhen the mood struck them. Not to mention the other local couples whose activities hadn't escaped\n\nthe notice of inquisitive young praka. Sunrise already knew most of the gory details.\n\n\"Remember, dear, that as handsome as the boy-praka may be, with them you must be careful. If you\n\nlie with one at the wrong time of year, well,\" and her mother just nodded to the house, where Sunrise's\n\nyounger siblings were engaged in a spirited fight over a favorite cloak.\n\n\"Don't worry, mother. I know what to do.\" And with a mutual smile the conversation was over. Her\n\nmother knew she was sweet on a halfling boy, and that solved the problem right there.\n\nAnd so the next day Sunrise invited Everard on a picnic, just the two of them, and one thing led to\n\nanother (with Sunrise largely leading the way) and they established, once again, that praka and\n\nhalfling were indeed compatible \"that way.\"\n\n\\*\\*\\*\\*\\*\n\n\u0026nbsp;\"Mm, yes,\" mused the Maker, who had made quite sure when creating his people that they were unable\n\nto reproduce with other species. His worry at the time was that a dozen or so generations down the\n\nroad he'd have brownish-greyish-orangish ringtailed racoxverines instead of distinct species. Instead\n\nwhat he had engineered was a recipe for a whole lot of offspring-free interspecies humping. Well,\n\nexcept for some of the gul, who tried to keep their fucking in-species for their own reasons.\n\nHalflings and praka had been a surprise, but they both lived in similar areas, were both friendly folk,\n\nand it turned out, both quickly figured out that a lover of the opposite species meant no unexpected\n\nchildren. Later in life, usually, they would marry into the proper species, but it was not unheard-of for\n\na mixed-species couple to stay together for life, sometimes adopting children of either species.\n\nSo Sunrise had a halfling lover, and something bad had happened to him at the time she was\n\ntransformed. He sipped his wine and waited for things to get interesting. He didn't have long to wait.\n\n\\*\\*\\*\\*\\*\n\nThere were several places they liked to go a-picnicking, places far from the village, where privacy was\n\nto be had. The hard part of it was sneaking away from Sunrise's curious younger sister, who could\n\ncause no end of awkwardness if she followed and happened upon them at the wrong moment. This\n\ntime they escaped with little effort, since Bowtail was mooning over her own favored halfling boy.\n\n(Pretty soon Summers-Blossom would have The Talk with her, too.)\n\nThey'd barely spread the picnic cloth and begun to unpack their lunch - interrupted as usual by much\n\ngiggling and wandering of hands - when Everard spied something odd at the brookside.\n\n\"What is that?\" The clever little halfling said, and snatched up a stick. In a moment he was poking at\n\nsomething shiny washed up on the shore of the little crick. He wasn't foolish enough to touch it\n\nwithout making sure it was safe. It was a mass of slick cloth, fox-orange in color, and maybe it was\n\nsafe - or maybe it was a blobby creature masquerading as cloth to get a meal.\n\n\"There's another one here,\" Sunrise chittered, for she had found a dark brown one a little ways away.\n\nShe followed his lead and poked it with a stick.\n\n\"Smooth\", the boy said, \"Not sticky.\" He was brave enough to touch it now, and began to unfold the\n\nmysterious bundle. The brown one was bigger and heavier, but Sunrise managed to get part of it\n\nunrolled as well.\n\n\u0026nbsp;\"Oh!\" Sunrise churred, for she'd unrolled a recognizable bit. It was a rubbery wolverine-mask,\n\naccurate in color and with low-set ears.\n\n\"It's all one piece,\" Everard said, for he'd unfolded the whole thing by now. \"It's a volpa!\"\n\nA volpafemme, clearly, for even flat and rubbery as it was the shape of the hips and the folds of what\n\nwould be breasts caught his eye. He stroked the thing wonderingly. There were seams, but no way to\n\nopen it - was it a costume? Did one get inside it with magic? He looked the orange and white and\n\nalmost-black thing over, still not finding an entrance.\n\n\"Mine's a gul,\" little Sunrise (though she was in fact three inches taller than he) said. A rather small\n\none, perhaps six feet long/tall, about the size of an almost-grown teenager. And male; she had found\n\nthe balls and the long ridge of mostly-buried sheath in the belly of the mock-gul. She found s\n\nomething else, too.\n\n\"It's a balloon,\" she chirped, and held up the short thick rubbery tail. The bit at the end was clearly a\n\nnozzle. Neither had seen such an elaborate balloon, or one of such thick material; from the feel of it\n\nthe things had a hide as thick as one's finger was wide. The bigger one weighed almost as much as\n\nSunrise did, and even the vixen weighed over twenty pounds.\n\nEach fell to puffing on the nozzles, and though the volpafemme was a foot longer than Everard was\n\ntall and the gul was half again little Sunrise's height, by dint of strong young lungs and much effort\n\nthey soon had the squeaky balloons half-filled. It was around then that Everard spoke up.\n\n\"They aren't balloons,\" he said, and hefted the surprisingly heavy and floppy vixen over (squeak!) so\n\nSunrise could see beneath the tail. There was a pucker there and a slit below that, both clearly leading\n\ninto the interior of the thing, though somehow they kept the air in. There was another, similar valve\n\npast the soft rubber teeth of the thing's mouth.\n\n\u0026nbsp;\"I know,\" chittered Sunrise, and pointed to where a smooth black shaft had begun to bulge from the\n\nrubbery gul's sheath. It was rather larger already than a praka's, or a halfling's for that matter, and\n\nmore slid into view as she grabbed the sheath and pumped up and down. \"They're toys! For sex!\"\n\nTeenagers will be teenagers, whatever the species, and they each grinned as they shucked off their\n\nclothing. Sunrise giggled as she straddled the half-inflated gul, pulling the thick and half-inflated\n\nblack cock up against her belly. It was flexible enough in its current state that even a little praka sex\n\ncould accommodate it, and pretty soon a healthy young prakafemme was wrapped tight around the\n\ntop six inches or so of ersatz cock. A prakafemme in her later years, after bearing a child or two, could\n\nsit in a gul's lap and like it. Sunrise wasn't so experienced and had to move carefully when stuffed\n\nfull of even half-swollen gul cock.\n\nEverard had beaten her to the punch and simply bent the rubber vixen over. By the time Sunrise\n\nmanaged to get the rubbery cocktip into her he was enthusiastically sodomizing the vixen.\n\n\"It's so smooth!\" he cried, his fingers dug into the thing's hips. The vixen's half-inflated head bobbed\n\non the grass as he thrust. He'd never imagined to be in bed with a volpafemme - the handsome foxies\n\nhad their pick of lovers, and were far rarer than praka or halflings to boot - and here he was, about to\n\nlet go in the ass of the closest thing to a volpa he was likely to get.\n\nSunrise was proceeding rather more slowly, for smooth as the rubber cock was it was awkwardly\n\nlarge and seemed to be getting larger still. It must be the pressure of my hips, she thought. I push\n\ndown against it and the air has to go somewhere. Nevertheless she was wet and full of fake gul and\n\nnot far behind Everard in the race for orgasm.\n\nThen the halfling boy cried out, bucking his hips as he came, and everything went horribly wrong.\n\n\\*\\*\\*\\*\\*\n\nShe was flushed, the Maker saw. Unlike a normal praka, whose blush might be noticed only inside\n\nher ears (and maybe not there), Sunrise the balloon-praka was slightly pinker all over than before.\n\nEmbarrassed? Probably. Aroused? Maybe.\n\n\u0026nbsp;\"Everard finished, and I was close, and then it moved. The rubber gul moved, and then it had me by\n\nthe hips...\"\n\n\\*\\*\\*\\*\\*\n\nIt all happened so suddenly. Everard crying out as he spilled his seed inside the vixen, and the rubbery\n\norange thing was wrapped around him before he finished. Bright yellow eyes looked evilly out of the\n\ninflated face and a narrow muzzle grinned as it nibbled on his neck.\n\n\"Good,\" it said as it gripped him. \"Finish in me. Halflings are so tasty when they come.\"\n\nSunrise had her own problems. The rubber gul, near full inflation (had it kept inflating on its own?)\n\ngrabbed her hips and rolled her onto all fours, following her over until he had mounted her like a\n\nrutting beast. Suddenly he was doing to her what Everard had done to the vixen, albeit in a different\n\nhole, and she yelped as a randy and altogether too large gul bent her over. Before his shaft had\n\ncompressed and fit into her easily enough, but now it was swollen hard - albeit with air rather than\n\nblood - and twice as thick. She really was stretched tight, painfully tight, and only her wetness and\n\nthe slick smoothness of his rubbery cock let it slide in and out as easily as it did.\n\n\u0026nbsp;Pinned under the rubbery gul - much lighter than a real one, but just as strong - she could only\n\nwhimper and protest. It thrust with one rubber-skin-vibrating growl after another, pinning her to the\n\ngrass when she tried to wriggle free. The only mercy was that it didn't last long. He only humped for\n\nan agonizing minute before letting out a long deep-throated snarl. Far up inside her abused sex she\n\nfelt the hot seed spurt and spurt again.\n\n\"That was quick,\" the vixen said with a grin. Everard struggled is her grip, but she held him as tight as\n\na constricting serpent. One of her half-inflated arms squeaked as it rubbed against her breast, with the\n\nhalfling's face trapped between them.\n\n\"Ha,\" rumbled the rubber gul, sitting up with Sunrise clasped between his hands - and still painfully\n\nimpaled. At least his swollen rubber cock was losing some of its tumescence. \"If you were in the\n\nmood more often I wouldn't get so pent up.\"\n\n\"It's not as the same as a real one,\" mused the vixen, while Sunrise very definitely felt the similarities.\n\nShe'd never seen an aroused male gul, but she'd seen sex toys fashioned to look like their endowment.\n\nNow a cock too much like a real gul's left her, leaving behind a thick wetness.\n\n\u0026nbsp;\"You are a pretty little thing,\" the gul-balloon said, and sucked in a mouthful of air. He was fully\n\ninflated now, and sure enough he looked much like a late-teens gul. Handsome, even, in a muscular\n\nway, were he not so shiny and so cruel.\n\n\"Don't get too fond of dinner, dear,\" the vixen said, and Sunrise looked on in horror as she worked her\n\nelastic jaws over Everard's face.\n\n\"Sunrise!\" He cried and reached for her, but the remorseless rubber vixen held him tight. His next cry\n\nwas muffled by the elastic valve that separated her outside from her inside. Already his face bulged\n\nthrough the smooth slick skin of her neck, and Sunrise guessed the rubbery monster would have no\n\ntrouble devouring her lover.\n\nShe wasn't doing it for entertainment; there was a look of real hunger on her face as she worked her\n\nmuzzle over the poor boy's shoulders. Elastic or not, Everard was on his way into a stomach.\n\nShe had seen people swallowed whole. There was a praka down the road from her - a \"gulper\", who\n\nthe Maker had changed to be able to eat prey whole - whose job included disposing of vicious dogs\n\nand lawbreakers. Last year a truly evil gnome had come through town, robbing houses and knifing old\n\nMrs. Clatterkettle in her sleep. The whole village had turned out to watch the tied-up gnome\n\ndisappear into Notch-Ear's muzzle. A last still-angry curse had come from the gulper's fat belly as he\n\nbelched, and that had been it for the burglar. Disposing of really nasty criminals this way was the\n\nMaker's will; they were less likely to show up again later if there was no body to Raise.\n\nThe next day she'd waved to Notch as he worked in his yard, the half digested gnome a much smaller\n\nbulge after an evening in a raccoon belly. She knew what would happen to Everard once the vixen\n\nfinished her meal.\n\n\u0026nbsp;\"Sorry about this, little lady, but we do have to eat.\" said the gul, and pushed his broad muzzle down\n\nover Sunrise's ears. As the valve at the back of his mouth expanded over the crown of her head she\n\nfound herself entering the smooth, slick throat of the balloon wolverine. There was no saliva, no\n\nslime, no stink of acid, just an effortless progression of harmless rubbery teeth as they slid down her\n\nneck and up over her shoulders. The mock-gul would mass five times her weight if he were flesh,\n\nand he swallowed her head with a creak of his jaws even a non-gulper Gul could have managed.\n\n\"Wait,\" she heard in the elastic vixen's thrumming voice. Even with Everard half swallowed she could\n\ntalk. \"Not yet, Shural dear.\"\n\nThere was a reluctant pause, then the soft fangs slid back off her shoulders as the gul jaws disgorged\n\nthem as easily as they had engulfed. Instead he held her in his lap, the long ridge of his sheath a\n\nstiffness against her back, and made her watch.\n\nEverard was struggling with all his might, and he was strong for a halfling boy, but it was a hopeless\n\neffort. The half-inflated vixen was wrapped around him like a snake, and each time she let her\n\nrubbery grip slide an inch further down his chest her jaws were there to take it in. He was in her to\n\nthe waist, his shoulders bulging oddly out through her thin smooth skin. For a moment a perfect\n\nimpression of his face appeared between her breasts.\n\n\u0026nbsp;She didn't eat him with abrupt forward thrusts of her muzzle and the help of her hands, as Notch-Ear\n\nhad disposed of the gnome. Instead her maw crept forward, simply sliding over as much of the\n\nhalfling as was available. The stretchy vixen swallowed Everard with no effort at all.\n\nWhen there was nothing left but his naked calves as feet she lifted her nose and devoured the last with\n\none long forward stretch. The blond curly hair on his toes disappeared as the narrow jaws closed,\n\nand he bulge of his kicking feet moved down through her neck as the vixen sat up. Everard was now\n\njust a heavy, struggling lump beneath her breasts, half as big as her whole body.\n\n\"Mmm, halflings,\" the vixen said, and let out a throat-thrumming belch. \"Delicious no matter what\n\nhole they go in.\"\n\n\"But why?\" Sunrise chittered as she stared at the shape moving in her middle. The smooth shiny skin\n\nstretched over Everard as he moved, showing every contour and detail perfectly. Was he -- yes, there\n\nwas something wrong about him already. Even through the finger-thickness of her hide the shape\n\nof his ear and cheek was subtly wrong, more rounded. The strange rubber creature was digesting her\n\nlover with fearsome speed. That answered her question before the vixen opened her muzzle to speak.\n\n\u0026nbsp;\"Because I was hungry,\" the vixen said, and stroked the softening shape in her belly.\n\nThe weakening struggle beneath that tough rubber skin was the last thing Sunrise saw as soft mock-gul\n\nteeth slid one more down over her face. The smooth, smooth throat expanded over her like a soft linen\n\nsock, painlessly engulfing each inch of her that passed through the valve. Pressed against the strong\n\nrubbery skin from the inside she shrieked, and heard Everard's muffled and weirdly gurgly reply. She\n\nwas on her way to the same fate as her softening love.\n\nThe inflated gul didn't have to work himself over her like a snake the way the vixen had fed. He held\n\nher tight until his jaws had taken her in to the hips, then he just lifted his muzzle and began to\n\nswallow. One upward toss of his head and her rump was between his teeth, and a simple upward tilt\n\nof his muzzle sent her sliding into the slick smooth gullet. There was nothing to grab that wasn't\n\nslippery as oiled skin, and with a cry of despair she disappeared down the mock-gul's throat. He\n\nwould be five times her mass if he were flesh, and a meal this size was no challenge at all for a gulper\n\ngul, much less a smoothly stretchy one.\n\n\u0026nbsp;Soft fangs scraped over her feet as the last of her disappeared from cool evening air into the elastic\n\nconfines of mock-gul stomach. Faint light made its way through the stretched bellyskin; the inside of\n\nthe horrible balloon creature was a flesh-pink and as smooth and slick as the outside.\n\nHopelessly she began to struggle, for though she possessed sharp little claws and a strong bite she\n\nwas sure she wasn't the best armed creature to end up in this stomach. Her claws proved useless, sure\n\nenough, just digging grooves in the finger-thick rubber that sprang right back into shape. Even when\n\nshe got a fold of the material between her fangs and bit down hard, he didn't react. The material was\n\ntoo strong for her strength to damage. The dimples her fangs made slowly filled back in when she let\n\ngo.\n\nAs she kicked and wriggled she felt the change begin. After seeing Everard visibly soften in just\n\nmoments she wasn't surprised when she felt her whiskers begin to melt. The walls of the rubber\n\nstomach were sweating beads of thick liquid now, liquid that clung to her fur and flesh. In the dim\n\nlight she saw mock-gul semen on her thighs meet the liquid and instantly turn into more of it. Her\n\nfur was following suit, though not so quickly. Even exposed flesh such as her nose and pawpads had\n\na strange slippery feel to it now. Bit by bit her ears were melting, and her whiskers and much of her\n\ntailfur were long since gone.\n\n\u0026nbsp;It was strange, and painless, but it was still digestion. The strange rubber creature was absorbing her\n\nas the vixen absorbed Everard.\n\nDesperately she pushed at the walls. The sphincter through which she entered was puckered shut\n\nand she couldn't find the lower one, if any. Surrounded by boneless rubber the only difference she\n\ncould feel, the only possible point of vulnerability, was the long ridge of sheath. She felt it from\n\nthe inside now, and the rubber cock was between the stomach wall and outer hide, but she pressed her\n\nsoftening hands against it and did her best to crush it.\n\nIt didn't work. Worse, he enjoyed it. The harder she tried to grip his shaft the stiffer it swelled beneath\n\nher palms. She could feel, even from in here, the sheath pull back as he went fully erect.\n\nAnd she felt, and heard, the squeak as he pulled the rubber vixen close and rolled her over onto all\n\nfours. In the painless misery of slow dissolution and gradual loss of consciousness she felt the\n\nmock-gul start to thrust. For a moment she worried where that shaft was going, since the vixen was\n\nfull of halfling, but she had her own problems.\n\n\u0026nbsp;He's lasting a lot longer this time, was the last thought of the bellyful of liquid latex that used to be\n\nSunrise.\n\n\\*\\*\\*\\*\\*\n\n\"It should have been the end,\" the shiny mock-praka muttered. \"I lost consciousness, digested into\n\nrubber, or whatever this is.\" She slapped one forearm with the other hand. \"I was just food. But they\n\nweren't done with me.\"\n\n\\*\\*\\*\n\n\\*\\*  \n  \nSunrise's eye's eyes snapped open, and she sat bolt upright as she woke from her nightmare. What an\n\nawful dream!\n\nThere was the picnic cloth, the basket, the wrapped bundles of food, the bottle of wine Everard had\n\nsnuck out of his father's house. She must have fallen asleep at the picnic! Well, it had been a tiring\n\nday of helping her father fletch crossbow bolts. The smell of the glue always gave her a headache.\n\nBut she had a horrible feeling that something was wrong. The sandwiches and pie were still wrapped\n\nin linen, the hard boiled eggs still in the wicker bowl. Hungry Everard wouldn't have left them alone\n\neven with her asleep. He was a halfling, after all, and thought he was stinting himself if he had only\n\nfour meals a day.\n\nThe nightmare, which by all rights should be fading from her memory, was as vivid as ever. And when\n\nshe'd sat up, she'd heard a squeak.\n\nShe knew what she'd see when she looked at her hands. She was right. Soft rubber claws, smooth\n\nslick skin, seams along the side of each finger. Molded-in pawpads and a jagged division between\n\nwrist and forearm where the darker fur started. Above that her forearms where thicker, mimicking\n\nthe fluffy fur that should taper down to her delicate, strong hands. All over it was the same: bulbous,\n\nballoony ringed tail, , hips that held their shape from inner air pressure, smooth slick cup-shaped ears\n\nshe felt with somehow still sensitive rubber-praka fingers.\n\nShe was a balloon now, too. Thinner of material than the other two, translucent in the moonlight, and\n\nhungry. Very, very hungry.\n\nWithout thinking she pulled the cloth off the basket of eggs and began popping them into her mouth.\n\nSomehow the delicious sandwiches did not appeal to her at all, but rather the eggs were what she\n\nneeded. She didn't even crack the shells; each was swallowed with a quick toss of her muzzle,\n\nbecoming hard little lumps that made their way easily down her throat. She knew, somehow, that it\n\nwas safe to eat them that way. She needed something in her stomach and just as the other balloons had\n\ndigested flesh and bone of her and -\n\n\"Everard?\" she cried, dropping the empty basket. \"Everard, are you here?\" She spoke in Common,\n\nthrumming her rubber throat around syllables her muzzle couldn't have managed when flesh. It was a\n\ntiny wonderment in a horrible evening. \"Everard, where are you?\"\n\n\u0026nbsp;\"Gone,\" came a familiar and frightening voice. \"My mate was hungrier than I.\" From behind a bush\n\nrose the faux-gul, his shiny pelt-skin squeaking as his arm brushed his side.\n\n\"We do not eat to be cruel,\" came a higher voice, and the balloon volpafemme appeared from behind\n\na tree. \"If we could lure in animals the way we do people, we wouldn't have to eat halflings and praka\n\nand khardaki and humans.\" Her rubber pelt was visibly thicker, its seams and wrinkles more bulky.\n\nEverard had been absorbed.\n\n\"Masquerading as toys is how we get our food,\" the mock-gul rumbled. \"I am Shural, and this is my\n\nmate Shalira. Each of us was transformed as you were, me by a balloon vixen I found whilst on a\n\ntest-hunt, Shalira by me. And now I have made you. Instead of absorbing you I blew out a bubble\n\nin your shape, keeping your essence in the latex, and here you are.\"\n\n\"We need to eat,\" the vixen said. \"Not often, but when we do, it has to be meat.\" Or eggs, she did not\n\nsay, but Sunrise realized the slight weight of a basket of eggs was gone from her middle. Already they\n\nwere converted into latex and absorbed into her body. Her rubber pelt was micrometrically thicker\n\nnow, but she was still very hungry.\n\nIt was all too much for Sunrise. \"But he was my friend,\" was all she said. \"I loved him.\"\n\n\"I was too hungry to spare your lover,\" the vixen churred. \"I am sorry.\"\n\n\"You must be starved,\" Shural said. \"Thin-skinned and new. You need more to eat than a few eggs.\"\n\n\"Yes,\" Sunrise said. Her hide was so much thinner than the mock-gul's that she sagged slightly\n\nwhere she stood. The vixen's pelt was even thicker since absorbing an entire halfling.\n\nThere was the faintest rustle in the undergrowth, and three sets of rubber ears swiveled to take it in.\n\nWithout a word, and silently, the two larger balloon folk collapsed where they stood. It was not\n\ndifficult, it seemed, to go from inflated to deflated in moments. With the prospect of food and a\n\ngnawing hunger, Sunrise reasoned out how to do it. She allowed air to escape from her mouth,\n\nanus and sex in one long almost-inaudible hiss, collapsing into a pile of rubber folds.\n\nIt was a raccoon. Not a prakafolk, but an actual raccoon. A not too distant relation, since the praka\n\nwere only fifty years removed from their four-legged kin. From her pile of rubber, deflated head\n\ncarefully left on top so she could see and hear, and watched it peer at the other two deflated masses.\n\nIt was only a few feet from Shural, but the faux-gul did not twitch. He was not the hungry one.\n\nIt was after the food, of course. After sniffing around the fringes of the little clearing it headed boldly\n\nfor the sandwiches. That boldness was the end of it.\n\nIt had to pass quite close to Sunrise to reach the picnic cloth and food, and her hunger was such that\n\nshe did not hesitate. She restrained herself, barely, until it was close enough to grab, and then with a\n\nsudden hiss of indrawn air she stiffened her rubbery arms and was upon it like a serpent. To its\n\ncredit the startled raccoon clawed and bit her as she wrapped around it, and even did some damage.\n\nHer hide was not half as thick and tough as Shural's or Shalira's, and it hurt when sharp fangs sank in.\n\nShe was too hungry to care. The moment she had a firm grip on the ringtail she lunged forward and\n\nwrapped her flexible jaws around its rump. Bit by bit, so driven by hunger she did not care about\n\nthe beast's chitters of fear or its claws and teeth, she devoured it.\n\nIt sank into her smooth slick gullet tailfirst, hissing and thrashing. Instinctively she knew how to feed,\n\nand pulsations in the walls of her rubbery flexible esophagus drew it in despite its efforts to escape.\n\nThere was a last chilling shriek as it clawed at her cheeks from the inside, muffled to a fraction of its\n\nvolume as her jaws closed. Ravenous, she swallowed, and the great lump of thrashing furry meat\n\nslid down into her torso.\n\nShe was one big stomach now, she realized. There was a throat, and presumably its lower equivalents,\n\nbut her whole torso was potentially an elastic receptacle for food. There was enough room for the\n\nraccoon, which must be a third her original weight, to snarl and chitter and claw at her insides.\n\nIt hurt her, but already the bite marks in her outer hide were knitting shut. Her hide had its own inner\n\nand outer skin, and between them a liquid rubber that moved around as needed. This sealed wounds\n\nand was a store of nutrition at need: Shalira and Shural were thicker, stronger and sturdier than she\n\nbecause this layer was more substantial.\n\nShe'd had a pet raccoon when she was just a cub. It'd never have occurred to her to hurt it, or even a\n\nferal 'coon, unless it was a troublemaker. Any other time she'd just have shooed the raccoon away.\n\nShe'd never been as hungry as she was now, though.\n\nIt never had a chance. Were she flesh and blood, it would have torn her belly apart. She was tougher\n\nnow, and as it struggled it was already dissolving into a puddle of liquid later. The inner struggle grew\n\nweaker as it was consumed, until the last few scratches at her stomach were delivered by softening\n\npaws reaching up out of a pool of rubber. Several minutes after she swallowed, fifteen pounds of\n\nraccoon was now fifteen pounds of balloon food.\n\n\"That is what it is like,\" Shural rumbled. \"To be so hungry. Sooner or later we must eat, and it is a\n\nrare thing when we can catch an animal. We must use what we are to lure in people, and so people are\n\nwhat we eat.\"\n\n\"Right now the raccoon is still alive, in a sense,\" Shalira churred. \"You could blow it out as a bubble,\n\nas Shural did with you, and it would be as we are - a rubber creature, albeit just an animal. But you\n\nwon't, will you?\"\n\n\"No,\" Sunrise said. Even with a sloshing lump in her middle she was hungry. Slowly the bulge\n\nshrank as the raccoon was absorbed. It took over an hour, during which little was said, and at the end\n\nof it there was nothing at all left of the little ringtail. Instead her rubber skin was thicker, sleeker, tougher.\n\nShe was no longer hungry, and the raccoon was part of her now. She knew that there was only one\n\nopportunity to blow a meal out as a new creature. She could no more revive it now than she could\n\nrestore a sandwich after digesting it.\n\n\"When we move, or heal ourselves, or talk, we use resources.\" Shalira churred. \"I could lie in a pile\n\nfor a decade, but if I want to do anything else, I need to eat.\"\n\n\"If you eat too much, or too often,\" Shural rumbled in reply, \"your skin can become so thick you are\n\nlittle more than a statue. It can take months of what little movement you can manage before you\n\nrecover. One meal a month is enough if you are active, less if they are big meals.\"\n\n\"Shural, of course, can use up resources in a way we can't,\" said Shalira, and the faux-gul grinned\n\nand showed her his unsheathed tip. \"Whoever made the first of us, god or wizard, had a sense of\n\nhumor. Or maybe we were made to be toys.\"\n\n\"And it still feels good?\" Sunrise asked. \"We're made of rubber now, not flesh.\"\n\n\"Come and find out,\" Shural said, and she did.\n\nLooking back on it, she would wonder how that horrible night led her to impale herself in a gul's\n\nlap. Had she forgotten Everard so quickly? At the time, though, she was discovering that her mouth\n\nwas not her only stretchy hole. She took the same thick inflatable shaft that had caused her such\n\npain before in her sex and even beneath her tail, sensing that she could stretch much more at need.\n\nPerhaps even devour prey through those holes, if she somehow overpowered it. And yes, it\n\nfelt very, very good.\n\nWhen Shural, who'd spent himself earlier in both her and Shalira, finally growled out his passion, his\n\nshaft was rammed in beneath her tail and his tip was past the second valve into her stomach. She felt\n\nthe thick wetness spurt against the walls, and she had already seen that it could be absorbed. Unlike\n\nthe rest of him, it was real, sticky seed, produced somehow in his rubber body and as digestible as any\n\nother protein.\n\n\"I've wondered,\" he rumbled in the ebbing heat of passion, \"If I could sire a cub in a strong gul-femme.\n\nI may never know. One thing is sure, when I do this enough, I get hungry faster than Shalira does.\"\n\n\"When we first met, after I'd absorbed my first prey, I lived for months just on sex,\" Shalira said with\n\na grin. \"Shural on the other hand had to eat several times.\"\n\nIt was a mistake to tell her that, one they soon regretted.\n\n\\*\\*\\*\\*\\*\n\n\"I was with them for a week,\" the rubber raccoon-woman said. \"We were all fed, and we talked, and\n\nI learned about them. Their kind,\" she paused, \"Our kind is rare. Blowing prey back into a balloon\n\ncreature is something they hardly ever do, because they get their meals through secrecy. More of us\n\nmeans more secrets to keep. In ten years and perhaps a hundred people absorbed, I was only the\n\nthird they remade. The other two were lion-people, from what they said.\"\n\n\"Khardaki,\" the Maker mused. \"A wizardress made the first of them. She liked lions a bit too much,\n\nand the lustiness of their four-legged ancestors carries on in the lion people.\"\n\nOne of the gul guards, who knew for himself the appeal of strong lion-women, hid a grin. Luckily that\n\nwas another union that could not produce cubs, however frequently and vigorously it was attempted.\n\n\"Eventually Shural was hungry, having spent himself many times in myself and the vixen, and\n\nsuggested a hunt. They were at least wise enough to not want to hunt near Willowby. They knew I\n\nwouldn't like that. There was a human woodcutter's cottage in the hills, they said, and they'd watched\n\nthe family from a distance. Shural suggested that the wife was not happy with her husband and might\n\nmake a fine bulge in his middle if she happened to find a certain inflatable toy. No one suggested that\n\nI eat the son, but even so I knew I had to leave.\"\n\nThe little balloon woman clasped her hands together, unable to meet the Maker's gaze. \"They lay their\n\ntrap. I was the outer scout, because the ones waiting for prey had to remain still. The couple returned\n\nfrom their woodcutting, and all the attention of my companions would be on them. Shural was very\n\nhungry and Shalira greedy, so while they lay there salivating over their potential meals I snuck away.\n\nI stole a cloak from a clothesline and came here straightaway, as fast as I could walk. You needed to\n\nknow about these, these predators in your lands.\"\n\n\"You did the right thing, little one,\" said the Maker. \"I will have notices posted. Surprise is the\n\nweapon of ambush predators like your former companions. Though I am certain they fled as soon as\n\nthey realized you were gone. It must be all too apparent to them that you would at once alert the\n\ntown guards, at the very least. They underestimated your loyalty to the people of the valley.\"\n\nThere was a pause, and then Sunrise spoke in a near whisper. She could not cry, as she was now, but\n\nher fear and sadness came through in her voice. \"What is to become of me now, lord?\"\n\n\"That is a good question, little one. What would you have me do?\"\n\n\"I have given this thought,\" said the balloon-praka. \"We, creatures like myself, once we are well fed I\n\nt does not take much food to maintain our health. I could act as a servant here, as other praka do,\n\nand...even in this form I could have a lover, or lovers. Shalira lived on sex; I am smaller. Just a few\n\nmatings a day would give me all the food I need. Failing that, I can eat eggs, meat, anything that is\n\nflesh or nearly so.\"\n\n\"You are a predator,\" the Maker said with an admirably straight face, for he was in a room with two\n\n350-pound anthropomorphic wolverines. \"Why should I expect you would not devour someone at the\n\nfirst opportunity?\"\n\n\"Lord, you surround yourself with predators. I would guess there are twenty people in this castle who\n\ncan, and would if they had the opportunity and the excuse, swallow a person whole. My companions,\n\nthe ones who made me, they may not have been monsters once. They are monsters now, because\n\nthey do not look for alternatives to eating people. I do not want to be a monster, just a person.\"\n\nThe Maker smiled. \"Good answer. It is rather more than twenty, actually. Even the castle mascot,\n\nthe large raccoon you may have seen on the way in, can and has swallowed people. Eating people\n\ndoes not necessarily make you a villain: it is when and why you do so that divides the good from the\n\nbad.\"\n\n\"There is one more thing, though,\" the Maker continued. \"I am a mage and a scholar with a specialty\n\nin curious creatures, some of which I have created. Yet I have never heard of such a creature as\n\nyourself. I owe the scholarly community a thorough research into such creatures. Learn their\n\nstrengths, their vulnerabilities, the nature of the magic that powers them. To be the subject of such\n\nresearch will not be pleasant.\"\n\n\u0026nbsp;The little balloon prakafemme, who only in the last few moments had overcome her awe enough to\n\nmeet his gaze, lowered her eyes again.\n\n\"My lord,\" she murmured. \"If it helps protect others from creatures like myself, then what I have left\n\nof a life is a small sacrifice.\"\n\n\"Or course,\" the Maker mused, \"The research subject does not necessarily have to be you.\"\n\nIn the corner, all but forgotten, the tied up volpa's eyes went wide. He saw where this was going and\n\ndidn't like it one bit.\n\nSunrise followed the Maker's glance and saw the fox. \"Lord? Are you saying that I should -\"\n\n\"This one is a criminal,\" the Maker said, and paused for a sip of wine. Lengthy conversations dried\n\nout his throat. \"Condemned. Had you not arrived, someone would have been chosen by lot and our\n\nfriend here would have spent the next day or so working his way through a set of innards. Whose\n\ninnards those might have been I cannot say; Gul, volpa, praka, and other creatures all have their names\n\nin the bowl. Now, I understand you do not want to be a predator, but I expect you are hungry, and if\n\nyou eat and reform him, at least he will still be alive. He will serve a more useful role as a research\n\nsubject than as a hundred and fifty pounds of fertilizer, once someone else is done digesting him.\"\n\n\"My lord,\" the little raccoon-woman said. \"I do not want it to seem that I am eager to eat someone.\n\nBut,\" and she smiled a little smile. \"It was a long trip here, and I had to hide and move quickly.\n\nTruthfully, I am very hungry, and if he is to be eaten anyway....\"\n\n\"By all means, proceed,\" the Maker said, and every eye was on the rubbery little lady. Hesitantly she\n\napproached the fox, who knew what was coming and began to squirm and kick.\n\nShe was genuinely reluctant. It was, after all, a volpa, and even a straggly weatherbeaten one like this\n\ncriminal was a handsome creature. They weren't like the cute little praka or rough muscular gul; they\n\nwere an elegant people.\n\nShe must be nearly starved, the Maker thought. He could see light through her thin rubber hide and\n\nsaw how she sagged slightly, not quite able to support her own weight. Her one meal of raccoon and\n\nhowever much faux-gul semen she had absorbed had not been enough to see her through the long trek\n\nto his castle. And here was a fox three times her original praka weight, an enormous meal even if\n\nmuch of him was blown back out into a new bubble creature.\n\nPresented with this huge meal and utterly ravenous, eventually her hunger overcame her reluctance.\n\nOne would not expect a starving man to leave a meal on the plate, whatever orders he was given, and\n\nhere she'd been assured she could eat what was on her plate. Delicate rubber hands dug into the\n\nvolpa's shoulderfur, and the fox let out a long whine as her elastic jaws engulfed his muzzle.\n\nThe Maker had on his staff a very few gulper volpa. Like most predators they preferred prey smaller\n\nthan themselves, but it was not unheard-of for one to swallow prey as large as a volpa. Such a meal\n\nwas a laborious process and absolutely required the fox be tied up or otherwise subdued. The size\n\ndifference was such that only helpless prey might be so eaten.\n\nSunrise's meal was not so difficult. Her stretchy jaws distended easily to take in the volpa's shoulders,\n\nand there was a visible expansion in her torso as she sucked herself tight around her prey. By\n\nclenching shut her two lower holes and expanding her body with whatever passed for muscular\n\naction in a balloon creature, she created a negative pressure that helped pull the fox in. In less than\n\na minute the volpa was in her to the waist, his features bulging out through her thin rubber hide.\n\nContractions ran through her hide, like the swallowing muscles of a snake, as her maw worked its\n\nway over the volpa's hips. The naked fox's sheath bulged out through the soft material beneath her\n\njaw, then made its way down her neck. Even through that hide his erection was visible. Terror could\n\ndo that, or perhaps it was just the soft smooth progress of slick rubber sliding over his shaft. It was a\n\nlast bit of pleasure for the doomed fox, whose semen would be digested outside of him as readily as\n\ninside.\n\nFolding a fox nearly two feet taller than herself into her stomach was an awkward process. A gulper\n\npraka might do it by pushing the prey against a wall and walking forward on all fours. The elastic\n\nlittle raccoon lady had a much easier time. With her almost endlessly expandable stomach she simply\n\nlet the struggling fox bulge out where he liked while she stretched her neck to twice its normal length.\n\nWhen her muzzle was wrapped tight around his knees she pulled herself back into shape. With\n\nnothing but slick smooth stomach wall to push against the volpa eventually tired, hard though he tried\n\nto stay stiffly straight.\n\nOnce his legs bent, it was all but over. With a last forward stretch of her muzzle she took the\n\ndark-furred paws into her mouth. Soft rubber fangs closed around his feet, and with a last great\n\ncontraction of the \"muscles\" beneath her neck she swallowed the volpa whole. She was left with a\n\nsquirming bulge bigger than herself that distended her torso-skin so thin the fox could be seen in her\n\nbelly.\n\nIf he weren't tied up and gagged, prey this size might tear its way out of her. An unarmed human\n\nwould be a helpless meal at this point, but a volpa has sharp fangs and claws. Tied up, though, there\n\nwas no escape. The Maker noted with morbid fascination that the fox's tail was visible through the\n\nstretched skin of her neck, and a few hairs of the very tip stuck out beneath her chops.\n\nShe had fine muscular control over her rubber hide, and bit by bit she sucked herself tight around the\n\nfox. Struggle though he would, he was soon forced into a ball in her gut. His shape stood out through\n\nher pelt like a bas-relief sculpture. Even the texture of his furry pelt showed in her hide, so thinly\n\nwas she stretched. Eventually, her meal subdued, she gave the Maker a last questioning look. When\n\nhe nodded she let out a long high-pitched burp, sat up against the wall, and wrapped her hands around\n\nthe great lump of her belly.\n\nSo thin was her hide around her meal that they could see the fluid that began to fill the gaps in his\n\nbody. A sheen enveloped his still faintly struggling form as the liquid latex she'd told them about\n\nbegan to consume him. The Maker had seen many creatures eaten, and several forms of digestion,\n\nbut this was a new one.\n\nIf what she said earlier was any guide, the process would take at least an hour, probably longer given\n\nthat the volpa was a much larger meal than the raccoon. And for the entire time the slowly dissolving\n\nfox would be alive. It was a painless process, but it was still digestion. If she chose, the hungry little\n\nballoon lady could simply absorb him. That'd probably make her hide almost inflexibly thick, so if\n\nshe didn't want to spend a month working off her meal, she had little choice but to blow him out as a\n\nnew balloon creature.\n\n\"Absolutely fascinating,\" murmured the Maker, who enjoyed watching people getting eaten a little\n\nmore than was proper. There was a reason he gave some of his followers the ability to swallow large\n\nprey whole, and it wasn't entirely the practicality of disposing of enemies in a very permanent fashion.\n\nEver since the incident with the young red dragon those many year ago he'd had more than a clinical\n\ninterest in such matters.\n\nSlowly the fox was being digested into liquid rubber. The other volpa in the room, Chula, idly\n\nadjusted the strings on his lute, and absolutely no one commented on the fact that Softpaw's face was\n\nnow in the Maker's lap. Their lord had his eccentricities, after all.\n\n\"I think she'll make a fine addition to the staff,\" the Maker said a few minutes later, and rubbed his\n\nhandmaiden's ears. \"Such loyalty, and such an interesting creature.\"\n\n\"Mm-hmm,\" said Softpaw, and swallowed.\n\n  \n  \n\n"}