An alchemist named Russel, clad in a dark cloak with his hands and feed covered by gloves and boots, nervously paced back and forth along the length of the alleyway between an empty warehouse and the outer wall of the Nowels family estate. Despite his rather ominous attire, his face was one of innocent nervousness and worry. He was deliberating to himself one final time whether or not this job was really worth it.
Nowels was a small farming village named after the noble family that ruled over it. Russel had arrived in town through the farmlands. Out there, the homes of the farmers were in clear disrepair, despite clearly being of easily maintainable design if the local lord bothered to send craftsmen or carpenters to have them fixed up. Even the equipment like the five windmills that dotten the horizon seemed to be non-functional and likely required the farmers to turn the grindstones by hand in order to function.
One might think from these deficiencies that the village had fallen on hard times, that the local nobles simply didnât have the funds to ensure the peasants entrusted to their care could live comfortable lives. Any such thought could be dispelled from ones mind, however, by simply observing the Nowels family estate for oneself. It was, quite simply, a castle, complete with a mighty wall of stone around it in a perfect circle.
All the nobles in the kingdom of Caprica were known to be greedy and cruel. At least, thatâs what everyone said about them down south in the kingdom of Ragelia, where Russel lived. The Nowels didnât seem to be an exception to that stereotype. Russel had never seen any of them in person, only heard descriptions of the mother and daughter who sat at the head of the local authority. The Nowels were an abusive sort. Even before the father had died and the mother had taken his place as lord of the village, they were quite vile in their ways as rulers, and Russel was sent here to destroy them.
He was here on behalf of his childhood friend, Claire. When he was a young, aspiring alchemist in the kingdom of Ragelia, Claire was studying alongside him under the same mentor. Eventually, she had gone off on an adventure to refine her craft further for herself, while he had stayed in the city of Asper to make a living for himself as a shop owner. Years later, she had returned to Asper with an air of fanaticism about her.
Russelâs alchemy shop had fallen on hard times, accumulating a substantial amount of debt as he couldnât out-compete the larger shops, to which wealthy adventurers, merchants and commissioners flocked. Immediately upon returning, Claire had sought him out with a job proposition. Initially, she had pitched her offer as a mere experiment. All Russel had to do was test out a magic item she had invented, and she would help him settle all his debts.
What she had only divulged later, after chartering them a private enclosed carriage ride to the âtest siteâ was how exactly Russel would be testing said item: By turning into a giant, destroying a castle, and devouring its rulers. His immediate reaction had been rejection, but Claire had him trapped with her already. Besides his reluctance to back out after agreeing to help out his friend, and the financial offerings at stake, it wasnât the first time she had gotten him to eat someone for her.
It had started out as a prank when they were both younger, years ago. Claire had managed to catch a mousefolk, a tiny little human-like creature with big ears and a long pink tail. Russel was in the middle of studying potion making when she had barged in on him holding the little critter by the tail between her fingers. He didnât remember what she had said, but she somehow managed to convince him to open his mouth, and she dropped the squirming thing right in.
She had thought heâd be grossed out, and spit it right out, but he had instead slurped its tail right up and swallowed it soon after. He still had no idea why he did it, perhaps he had catfolk ancestry. Regardless, she was now more or less paying him to intentionally indulge in the same prank, on a much higher scale, and with greater stakes. In the end he had agreed, and now here he was, standing a short ways away from his target, still wondering whether he should be regretting this or not.
In his hands, Russel held a single item: a mask. It was similar to the kind that nobles would wear at a masquerade event, coloured the same shade of black as the rest of his outfit. It wasnât the sort of thing he could ever see himself wearing, but then again, he could never see himself wearing any of the getup he had on right now. He donned the mask, hiding his nose and eyes from any potential identification.
âWell, itâs now or neverâŠâ
Reaching into his coat pocket, Russel grabbed the light-blue orb he was carrying. It was made from desert quartz, cool to the touch and just a little too large for his fingers to completely wrap around it. Holding it up to his lips, he whispered the command phrase Claire had told him about, his breath lightly fogging up the crystal as he felt a primordial recognition of his words resonate within it. Holding his hand up high, he winced as the orb shot off into the sky. He wasnât afraid of the orb, but rather how someone might react to seeing it. Alas, there were no alarms or shouts to be heard.
âAlright⊠first part done.â He muttered nervously to himself. He could do this. He could do this. Next he reached into the same pocket and retrieved a cloth bundle, which he carefully unwrapped. Inside the cloth was an orange gemstone vaguely cylindrical in shape, almost like a miniature baton. What appeared to be lightning strikes constantly appeared silently inside the oddly-shaped gem, causing it to irregularly emit small flashes of light. Russel grabbed one end and stowed the cloth away before grabbing the other end as well.
âWell, here goes nothing. If this goes wrong Clair, I swear Iâm going to kill you.â Even with the orb of observation Russel just launched, Clair wouldnât be able to see him. It was currently tracking his position from too far away, though he would soon be very noticeable. Loud cracking sounds, far too loud, came from the gemstone as Russel pried its two halves apart between his hands. When the specially-made artifact finally came completely undone, it emitted a bright flash and a loud bang that made Russelâs ears ring. The ringing got much worse when he was sent flying back and banged his head against the wall of the estate.
Russel crumpled to the ground, struggling to stand back up, when everything started shifting. He leaned against the wall as his boots pressed against the wall across the alley from him, his legs now long enough to reach the other side. Everything was becoming more and more cramped as his body grew. Before he knew it, his knees were being pressed against his chest. The pressure started building up more and more, until the stone behind his back started cracking apart.
Climbing to his knees as the wall started coming down, he looked up and could see the magical dome over the castle had become visible in response to the damage he was causing it. All noble abodes had them as an extra layer of protection against long-ranged or magical attacks. Larger cities like Asper even had one around the whole settlement. However, as an alchemist, Russel knew that a permanent barrier like this required a physical artifact of some kind to maintain it. Most of the time, that artifact was the wall itself. Sure enough, the barrier started falling apart just as the segment of wall Russel had been leaning against came all the way down.
Finally, Russel stood at his new, full height. He was standing at the breach in the wall, his gigantic form framed by the hole in the barrier. The unbroken sections of the wall struggled to keep the rest of the barrier together, bits of magical force breaking off like shards of glass and dissolving into the air before they could hit the ground.
Russel towered over the wall and every other building in the village. The magic within Claireâs little invention had temporarily imbued him with the size and power of a giant, and he now stood just under twenty-five times his previous height. From his new vantage point, he could see the merchants and craftsmen in the village running for cover, he could see peasants in the muddy fields pausing their work to look in his direction with bewilderment. Masked and donned in all black, he probably looked quite intimidating, though all the tiny eyes on him was making him more and more nervous by the second. Everyone was looking at him, everyone could see him. He was disguised, and anything he did going forward would hopefully go without consequences, but he couldnât help but feel wracked with anxiety. He shuffled his boots around as he twisted and shifted in place, unintentionally crating a pair of small craters in the ground below him under his immense weight. His nerves were suddenly steeled, however, as he looked upon the one building comparable to his own size: the Nowelsâ castle.
âEyes on the prize,â he said to himself. His voice was a lot louder than he expected it to be as he stepped through the ruins of the estateâs defensive wall and into the outer courtyard. His boot kicked a piece of rubble as he marched forward, sending rocks and debris flying into the courtyardâs gardens. Groundskeepers fled as his steps dug deep footprints into the soft earth and trampled flowerbeds and bushes. Russel kept his gaze downward as he walked, making sure to watch his step. A woman who had been gardening tripped over her own feet as she tried to escape, and she fell prone right where his boot was about to land.
âOh! Ah, e-excuse meâŠâ Russel stammered out, panicking slightly over nearly pancaking the woman. He wobbled on one leg as he struggled to retain balance while she quickly crawled to her feet and ran away to the side, though not with as much fear as sheâd displayed earlier.
Russelâs eyes remained on the ground, both to watch where he was walking and because he didnât want to see the looks on everyoneâs faces as they stared at him. He wasnât looking, but he knew. He could see in his mind the horrified expressions everyone in the courtyard had as they watched a giant marching towards the home of their ruler. A few guards stood between him and the castle wall, though they quickly fled as he approached, most of them abandoning their weapons in the process. Finally, he was forced to look up.
The castle lay in front of him. At his new height, it wasnât nearly as imposing as it had been mere moments ago. In fact, it was almost laughable that the people who lived in this region would look upon its structure with any sort of fear, admiration or awe. It wasnât even as big as Russel thought it was. It seemed to be a smaller, less impressive imitation of the castle at the center of Asper, though he couldnât be entirely certain. With his newfound confidence, Russel took a deep breath, held his arm back, and threw forth a mighty punch.
His giant, gloved hand went right through the castle wall with minimal resistance. As brickwork collapsed around the point of Russelâs first attack, he found that his arm got stuck for a moment. Instead of gently retracting it, he had to put a bit more force into his movement, causing more destruction in the process. A part of him didnât want to break the building apart so thoroughly, but another, growing part of Russelâs mind told him not to care.
âJust break it open like a big piñata and grab the prizes inside,â was what Claire had said. That was the mission, the goal. Whether or not the castle itself remained standing wasnât supposed to matter. Still, heâd prefer his âprizeâ to remain as un-crushed as possible. Trying to take a more strategic method to his destruction. Putting more focus into his strike this time, Russel raised his arm in the air and performed an open-palm downwards strike, bringing down the entire exterior wall and exposing the castleâs insides to the fresh air and sunlight.
It was incredible, like opening up a doll house. It took Russel only a second to take in all the little details. There was a study room on the upper floor, the lone desk and surrounding bookshelves now covered in a layer of dust and gravel. The bottom floor had a small kitchen that doubled as an eating area, likely meant to be used by the servants. The middle floor had multiple rooms, among which seemed to be a small storeroom of some kind, the contents of all the tiny boxes hidden from sight. The feature that Russelâs eyes focused in on, however, was a single door connecting the storeroom deeper into the castle: it had just been closed. The room had contained a person just a moment earlier, and they were trying to flee!
Thrusting his hand forward, Russelâs gloved hand easily crashed through the thinner interior wall as he reached passed the door. He felt his fingertips brush against something, and he grabbed it practically out of instinct. Whatever it was, he could feel it squirming against his palm. He carefully pulled his hand back, carrying his delicate cargo with it, and opened his palm in front of his chest, getting a good look at who he grabbed. It was a servant girl. Her dress was made of fine materials but was clearly not the attire of a noble. Her curly brown hair brushed against the base of his thumb and her simple shoes dug into his palm as she struggled to find purchase, trying not to fall. She had a fearful expression but was too far in shock to make a sound.
Not having enough time to set her down somewhere safe, Russel decided that this girl was coming along for the ride. Opening his cloak, he stuffed the captured servant into one of his empty inner pockets. She let out a quickly muffled yelp as he shoved her in before closing his cloak and returning to demolition duty. Castles were built to be strong and sturdy, at least when they werenât being torn apart by giants. Russelâs last few attacks took out quite a few walls that were responsible for holding up the rooms above them. Because of this, Russel was barely able to do more than place his hand on the roof of the castle before the next section of top floor crashed all the way down to the bottom floor, creating another burst of debris that covered the entire courtyard in a cloud of dust.
âUh⊠oops?â Russel was startled by the sudden, unintended destruction as the castle crumpled away from his mere touch. It seemed like an entire third of the building came down onto itself. He quickly dropped down to his hands and knees, gloves sifting through the rubble worriedly. He hoped he hadnât accidentally flattened his target. âAnyone in here?â
He managed to find another three servant girls. A blonde one had been buried under the rubble, hands over her head and miraculously unharmed. A pair of brown-haired women were on the top layer of the rubble, one trying to pull the other out from a pile of rocks that her legs were stuck under. None of them were all too pleased to be suddenly lifted up by the hands of their castleâs destroyer and packed into his pockets, but it wasnât like they could do anything to stop him. Russel wasnât even quite sure why he was collecting tiny servants at this point, he just⊠was.
The dust clearing, Russel could now see the most prominent room of all: a throne room. Of course they had a throne room. It was a wonder that the king of Caprica didnât consider this blasphemous in some way. He had broken into the room from the perfect angle. A red carpet stretched down the grand hall away from him, leading to a small stage with a wooden throne atop it. On that throne sat Lady Hilga Nowels, glaring at him with all her tiny menace. She had on a purple dress with red accents and an exceptionally frilly skirt that went all the way down to her black, heeled shoes and a top that seemingly accentuated the size of her chest. She had purple hair of a similar shade to her dress tied in braids that flowed down her back and a pretty, symmetrical face that was twisted into a sharp expression of irritation.
Six guards stood between them, armoured in full plate and armed with crossbows. This was the room where the local authorities callously disregarded the hardships of their people, where those who defied them were executed, where all their authority was centered⊠and it was all so small. Lady Nowels shouted something at her guards that Russel couldnât quite make out, and they raised their weapons at him. Russel raised his arm to block as their crossbows fired. He could feel several pinpricks pierce his skin, but his sleeve was thick enough to prevent them from going too far in. Having fired their shots, they armoured warriors scrambled to reload quickly, but Russelâs palm came sweeping into the room, slamming them against the walls and knocking them all unconscious.
With all obstacles removed, there was nothing stopping Russel from snatching the noble lady right off her throne. Seeing the giant fingers coming right at her, she tried to get away, knocking the fancy chair on its side as she scrambled to escape. She was able to make no progress at all before being swept off her feet.
âRagh! Let go of me you stupid brute!â Now that she was in his grasp, it was much easier to hear what she was saying, though there wasnât much to gain compared to when she was unintelligible a few moments ago. âIâll⊠Iâll have your head for this! For what youâve done to my castle!â
âOh really?â Normally, someone in power saying something like that wouldâve placed Russel into a state of shock. Heâd be on his hands and knees begging for forgiveness. Only, the tiny noble wasnât in any power at all, he was. It was his turn to be the one with power, and his one goal was to punish those who had abused it. âI donât think you have an axe big enough to take my head, honestly.â
âAaaagh! You shut your insolent mouth! You⊠you⊠aaagh!â She was in total hysterics, saying the first things that came to her mind. She did, however, give Russel a perfect segway into the next part of the plan.
âMy mouth, huh?â Russel tried his best to put on a smirk, though he could feel his nerves catching up to him. He could do this, he had done it before⊠though that was a long time ago. He just needed to imagine it was like before. He was just eating a little mouse-girl that Claire had brought for him. Besides, she deserved it. Russel parted his lips and brought Hilga Nowels closer to his open maw.
âW-wait, what are you doing!? You- mmmph!â Hilgaâs complaints turned to panic before she was muffled completely by Russelâs jaws closing down on her. His lips formed a seal around her waist, preventing any sound from escaping his mouth. Like a cat with a treat, he shifted his mouth around, scarfing down more and more of the noble lady until her legs were slurped up along with the rest of her.
Russel felt a shiver go down his spine as he felt the tiny woman writhe and squirm on his tongue. His saliva quickly began building up, soaking her thoroughly through her dress. He could feel his knees shaking, both from fear and from pleasure. He was loving this. He was hating this. He was doing this, right now.
He could do this. Heâd eaten a tiny once before, with Claireâs encouragement, and it was fine then. It seemed as if all the most dangerous, strange and exciting things he ever did with his life were because of Claire. What was all this but just another crazy scheme of hers that he was going along with. Just a cat with a mouse. Just swallow the noble. Just eat the rich. JustâŠ
*Glp!*
She went halfway down in one gulp, he could feel the lump her body made in his throat get stuck right above his collarbone, could feel her body wriggling and writhing and the vibrations of her screams within the confines of his throat muscles. It felt so weird to eat an actual human for the first time. But it felt⊠oddly good? No, he couldnât think about that right now. He couldnât hesitate or else heâd choke. Squinting his eyes shut, he swallowed again as hard as he could.
*Grrrlk!*
âAh~â Russel instinctively let out a big sigh as he felt the tyrant squeeze the rest of the way into the depths of his digestive system. He panted a few times, tongue extended slightly as heavy breaths exhaled from his now-empty maw. A sudden spike of pleasure hit him as he felt his esophagus deposit the tiny woman into his stomach. The feeling of her moving around in there caused his mood to shift. He was no longer a just giant destroying a castle, he was now a predator hunting for his prey. âAlright, now whereâs that brat hiding?â
Russel continued digging. By this point, enough of the castle was demolished that he could walk right into the rubble and be surrounded by the surviving sections of the structure on three sides. He grabbed structure in front of him in his hands and sunk his palms through ceilings and floors. He tore apart storerooms, studies, bedrooms, practically hollowing out the castle, but he couldnât seem to find a single other person beyond who heâd caught already. He was starting to get stressed, and angry. He couldnât let the other Nowels noble escape, or else this whole assault would have been a waste. It was then that he realized the one place he foolishly hadnât checked before now: the main entrance.
Russel had breached the estate from the side, a spot where anyone who isnât a giant or similarly powerful being would have a hard time breaking in. In the process, however, he had left the actual entrance to the castle unattended to. Turning himself towards where he believed the entrance would be, Russel charged forward, slamming his shoulder into the castle wall and bringing the entire front end of the building down in a cluster of rubble around him.
Half a dozen servants were fleeing towards the main gate in the outer wall, flanked by four soldiers on both sides. These guards were less equipped than the ones in the throne room, wearing simple chainmail and wielding long spears instead of anything likely to stop a giant. As their escort moved to stop him, a couple instead choosing to flee for their own safety, Russel scanned the women running from his thunderous steps. Nila Nowels had to be one of them. There was just one problem⊠the only thing he knew for certain about the Nowels womenâs appearances was that they had distinctive purple hair. However, every single one of the tiny women had purple hair!
A sudden sharp poke like a bee sting suddenly struck Russelâs ankle. Wincing, he looked down and saw that a soldier had managed to pierce his spear through the side of his boot. With a kick of his leg, Russel sent the couple of overambitious guards flying away with an explosion of dirt and grass. Realizing he had to act quickly, he decided to just grab all the disguised servants and figure out which one Nila was later.
He hooked two fingers around the slowest of the fleeing maidens, her hands ineffectually pounding on his grip as he stowed her away in his cloak. He closed his hand around the upper bodies of the next two women in the same grab, as they were close enough to be snatched up together at once. One of them tripped, unable to maintain her balance through all the stress and chaos. She was grabbed by the legs, dangled upside-down and screaming as she was lowered into another coat pocket. The last two nearly reached the gate, only for a pair of hands to fall from the sky and pin them both down against the ground, careful not to flatten them.
With all the potential nobles secured, both of Russelâs pockets were stuffed. He could feel them squirming and climbing over each other, their attempts at escape pressing against his chest. It wasnât quite like the feeling of their leader writhing around as she gurgled in his stomach, but it still brought Russel an odd sort of pleasure. Standing back to his full height, he looked towards the afternoon sun, his mission completed.
He noticed what looked like small twigs stuck to his cloak, most prominent around the shoulder and neck area. They were arrows. The other guards had been shooting arrows at him this entire time, trying to save their cruel rulers, and he hadnât even noticed. A warm sensation began building in his gut, more so than the feeling of Hilga Nowels pounding on the walls of his stomach.
More than anything else, or perhaps combined with everything else, Russel felt invincible. He was above lords, above kings, the power he wielded seemed to elevate him above everyone and everything else! He felt that way for a few moments before a sudden bout of wooziness came over him: the first symptom that the gigantification-crystalâs magic was about to run out.
His head spinning, Russel stumbled as he quickly ran back towards the wall. He would have fallen over, if the inside of the castleâs barrier didnât catch him. He didnât crash into the wall itself, so the barrier held, and he carefully made his way around the courtyard until he reached the hole he had made when his rampage had first begun.
âAlright, Iâm out of here!â he proclaimed to no one in particular. His vision beginning to blur, he started running down one of the villageâs main roads. He was halfway across the farmlands when he felt a sensation of falling. He was shrinking back down to his ordinary height, that much was certain. Just as everything on his person had grown with him, his disguise, the captives in his pockets, and the very unwilling meal in his stomach were all being shrunk as well.
Russel ran. He ran as fast as he could while he still had the benefit of extra long legs. By the time he had finally returned to his former size, the village of Nowels and its demolished center of power had vanished over the horizon. The grasslands now grew to waist height, and the trees towered over him. He was an ordinary human once more.
It wasnât long before Russel was back on the road to Asper, back within the kingdom of Ragelia. Clair sat across from him in the small yet spacious inside of the carriage. It was a bit of a walk from where his gigantic rampage had ended, but Russel had managed to reach the spot on the road where Clair was waiting for him before sundown. She had prepared an enclosed carriage with a reputable driver who didnât ask questions so long as he was paid well.
Clair had the look of an adventurous merchant. Her wide-brimmed cap had a bright yellow feather attached to the side, covering most of her hazel-coloured hair aside from a single long ponytail that draped over her left shoulder. Her dark brown tunic was practical yet stylish, as were her leaf-coloured trousers and high-rimmed brown leather boots. After initial greetings and getting the carriage moving, they sat in silence for a few minutes before Clair abruptly leaned forward and have Russelâs belly a poke.
âWell? Are the Nowels safely tucked away in there?â Russel flinched at the feeling of her fingertip pressing into his soft belly. The movement prompted his stomachâs lone prisoner to move around some more herself. âI havenât looked over the footage the observation orb captured yet.â
âH-hey!â He swatted Clairâs hand away, defensively covering his belly with his arms and slumping his shoulders. He composed himself a little before continuing. âI⊠uh, got Hilga in there, but her daughter pulled a trick, and things got a little⊠elaborate.â
Clairâs eyes narrowed, though she looked more worried than angry. âRussel, please tell me that we did not do this whole thing only to lose half of the targets. If Nilaâs still out there, sheâs just going to build things back up even worse than her mother did! She was practically running the town already-!â
âItâs fine! Itâs fine⊠I hope,â Russel was digging through his pockets. One by one he fished each of the servant girls out of his pockets: the six ones who had dressed themselves up to look like Nila Nowels, and the other four he had picked up incidentally. They were now tiny the same way Russelâs clothing had become huge along with him. As an experienced alchemist, he understood that the crystal had the rather common modifier âeffect includes everything the user is wearing or carryingâ and since he had technically been âwearingâ the girls, they had shrunk along with himself when he returned to his former height. The shrunken women tried to stand but found that the slight jostling of the carriage made it impossible to maintain their footing.
âIâm sure that Nila is disguised as one of these women,â Russel said, gesturing to the ones with blue hair. âAnd theyâve changed their own appearances to all look the same, so I canât tell which one is herâŠâ This seemed to light a fire behind Clairâs eyes. Her expression immediately lit up, and she leaned all the way over to loom over his tiny prisoners.
âHmm⊠it is a pretty good disguise,â she said, the tip of her tongue sticking out of the corner of her mouth. A mischievous smile crept its way onto her face. âWell⊠we could just eat them all. Nilaâs disguise wouldnât matter if her and all her decoys were stewing together in a stomach!â
Both Russel and the collection of tiny women were taken aback by this proposal. Many of the tinies scrambled to get away from the two giants looming over them, but there wasnât really anywhere they could go. Russel wanted to protest, but another, hungrier part of him was holding him back.
âW-well⊠we probably should make sure that we really did get her, and I didnât just fall for an entire set of decoysâŠâ He wasnât saying that earnestly, he knew in his heart that he was just making excuses at this point.
âYou better have not! Thereâs no way Iâm making another crystal just to hit the same place a second time. Now, letâs get started. I can help you, so you donât get full.â She was clearly not taking his suggestion seriously. Clair had decided what she wanted to do, and Russel was being taken along for the ride, as usual. Their first victim was one of the blue-haired women standing near the edge of Russelâs seat, contemplating jumping down to the carriage floor. Clair grabbed her waist between her thumb and forefinger, and she kicked and squirmed⊠deliciously.
âHere, open wide~â Clair brought the woman closer and closer to Russelâs face. Immediately becoming flustered at her advances, he only managed to open his mouth slightly, but that was more than enough to put the little wiggling treat inside. It was just like the very first time, only now they both knew what they wanted.
âW-wait! Iâm not-!â The tiny womanâs cries were silenced as she was shoved headfirst between Russelâs parted lips. Her tiny little legs kicked frantically in the air before they were pinched between Clairâs fingers and pushed the rest of the way into Russelâs salivating maw, her finger poking between his lips as his tongue curled around the form of the poor girl. She pulled away as he began sloshing the little treat sheâd given him around, feeling her flavour seep into his palate. Her struggles were just as futile as her motherâs, or her masterâs, who whoever Hilga was to this miniature woman. Either way, she quickly found herself sliding towards her destined final resting place: Russelâs gullet.
*Gulrrk~*
She went down far better than the noble woman had, perhaps due to Russel having a bit more âpracticeâ now, or perhaps Hilga was just a stronger fighter than he had given her credit for. Clair wasted no time grabbing another one, licking her lips as she brought the servant girl towards them.
âHold on, she doesnât have blue hair,â Russel said while lifting his hand up, almost as if to grab the future snack from Clairâs hand but stopping short.
âWell, Nila could have changed her hair colour to throw us off track⊠whatever, I know you donât actually object to this.â Without listening to any further protests, she stuck the shrunken servantâs legs in her mouth, greedily slurping her up until her face vanished past her lips. Excuses, thatâs all they were. Neither of them were creating justifications to indulge themselves in their shared interests, they were just making excuses to do so. For some reason, Russel didnât have a problem with that.
The tinyfolk didnât stand a chance. One by one, they were snatched off their feet by each of the hungry duo. They both took turns downing a wriggling treat. Russel pinned the arms of one to her sides, stuffing her into his mouth headfirst, lathering her up in just enough saliva to make her slick before squeezing her into the depths of his digestive system. Clair grabbed another by the leg, dragging her into the air and dangling her playfully over her maw, slowly lowering her down.
Within the confines of the carriage, there was nothing the tinies could do, nowhere they could go. This kept up until the last remaining one was in Russelâs grip, though it was Clairâs turn now. Russel sighed as he held the tiny girl out towards his friend, and her lips clamped right over his fingers as she engulfed her prey.
Clair pulled back, taking the last tiny with her, and leaned back as she let out a hum of enjoyment. It was a curious experience to watch her enjoy herself this much. Russel didnât know she was this enthusiastic about swallowing tinies whole. A few seconds later, she gulped, and the two of them were alone. Just two friends, and the meals in their belliesâŠ
âAlright, now thatâs what I call a successful mission! Now all we gotta do is enjoy the rest of our relaxing trip back home and work off all these villainous calories~â Clair leaned back in her seat, stretching her legs towards Russel with her hands resting on her belly. He couldnât help but fixate on her midsection, thinking about how she currently had nearly as many tiny people churning away in there as he did.
Something occurred to Russel only then. Clair had come to him with this mission⊠job⊠quest⊠whatever. While he had no idea what exactly the Nowels looked like, she had to have known when she assigned him to go after them. How else would she be able to give him their descriptions?
âYou knew exactly which tiny was actually Nila Nowels in disguise, didnât you?â
âOh?â Clair looked at him with a smug expression on her face. âYea, she was the first one I fed to you. Bet she felt real silly that her plan turned out to be useless.â
Russel responded by leaning back in his seat, resting his head against the wall of the carriage behind him. He felt⊠oddly fine with the knowledge that he and his friend had just devoured a whole bunch of innocent people along with their actual target. Anyone who learned of the incident would probably just chalk up their deaths as âcollateral damageâ
âNow⊠where should we hit next?â Claire switched the topic to something even more insane than what theyâd already been talking about.
âW-what!? Nowhere! I am not doing that again!â Russel exclaimed. It was a knee-jerk reaction, a reflex in response to the inherent âwrong-nessâ of what theyâd done. The initial surge of emotion was, however, quickly stifled by the feeling of all the tiny girls squirming away in his stomach. They were pounding on the walls, climbing over each-other, desperately trying to find an escape. There was no way to tell which one of them was Hilga Nowels anymore. It felt so good, it distracted him from any thought that this could possibly be a bad thing.
âOh, donât lie to yourself⊠you enjoyed this so much, didnât you?â Clara could already sense the insincerity in his response. âBesides, there are many more tasty tyrants we could easily dethrone with a little bit of giant power. Caprica isnât exactly known for its benevolent rulers. Sure, thereâs no way weâre toppling the king himself, but âliberatingâ these tiny, oppressed villages should be a snap!â
âAnd you get to indulge in your wildest fantasies,â Russel retorted, already beginning to surrender to his partner in crimeâs enthusiasm.
âHey! This is your thing too!â She snapped back. Upon seeing the grin on his face, Clairâs expression quickly changed to match it as she realized he was already totally on board with her idea. âAnd we get to do a little good in the world at the same time! Come on, itâs a win-win for the both of us!â
Russel gave his belly a few pats. His digestive system was churning along like everything was normal. No matter how much they fought to escape his insides, his body would continue to process the shrunken women into nutrients as if they were any other food. They were his, they belonged to him, and yet he found that he still hungered for moreâŠ
âAlright. Letâs go eat the rich!â