Jaime stood at the edge of the bowl. She was shaking, covered in spit from both women. Her frail naked body shook with a mixture of fear, disgust, and frigid cold.
“Who’s next, fresh meat?” Alex leaned in close, a woman inside her mouth screaming as the words escaped her lips.
Jaime simply pointed into the bowl, singling out a woman in the fetal position. She didn’t watch this time, knowing what would come next. Lyra’s hand plucked her from the bowl.
“Spare me! I’ll do anything! I’ll give you anything!” The doomed woman begged above her.
“Sorry, hon. We filled that position. I do have one opening, though.”
Screams and wet kissing noises followed, and Jaime closed her eyes. There were only three women left in the bowl. She had passed the test. She had made it. They saw the value in her. She had passed selection.
Alex swallowed, leaning in close for Jaime to hear the screams inside her throat. Jaime muttered to herself that she passed the test, trying to drown out the cries of the women she was selecting for the meals of her bosses. They were all doomed, it wasn’t her fault. She was just pointing.
Lyra swallowed, then swallowed again. A small lump moved down her throat, and Jaime imagined what was happening inside. She thought about what it would be like to die inside Lyra, to dissolve into Alex. Her body shuddered. All those women, melting together into a demented puddle for a laugh. For a bonus.
“Next,” Alex’s mouth whispered behind her, and the wind of the words almost blew her from the lip of the bowl. Her tongue snaked out, gently tasing Jaime’s flesh. “Or you’re next,” Alex added.
Jaime pointed with both her arms, singling two of the three remaining. The screaming was meaningless to her now, as were the much louder giggles. Her bosses easily separated the women, who were trying to cling to each other. Their tearful goodbyes turned to more begging, which Jaime knew to be pointless. These women were their superiors, in every way. She had only survived by accepting that. The begging turned to echoes of mouth noises, slurping, and swallowing. Two screaming women reduced to lunch in the blink of an eye. One to go.
“And then there were two.” Alex flashed a wicked smile before grabbing the last woman in the bowl. Jaime could barely process the words before Lyra had already pinched her around the midsection. Two? She was chosen! She wasn’t supposed to be like the others! Her mind raced as Lyra’s smile moved uncomfortably close. Lyra dangled her above while she spoke.
“You did so well, honey. I think I have room for one more.” Her mouth opened, and the pink tongue that had sent so many others to their death rose to greet Jaime.
“Miss Lyra! Wait! I can be useful!” Jaime tried to hide her panic.
Lyra’s mouth widened, smiling as her tongue rolled out. The fleshy organ molested Jaime’s breasts, and then Lyra turned her over and suckled on Jaime’s lower half. Her lips closed in for a kiss, and Lyra sucked on Jaime like a piece of candy. Her tongue withdrew, and hot breath buffeted her body as Lyra spoke.
“What use do you think you could have sweetheart, beyond my little bonus treat?” Her mouth opened wide again, and Jaime started to flail. She had seen it a dozen times already, someone disappearing into Lyra’s maddening throat. She tried not to panic as she heard Alex swallow hard. She was the last one. She looked out from Alex’s mouth to see Alex gently patting her stomach, leaning back to relax with all those pathetic lives boiling inside her. This was it, she was going to join the slurry of women inside Lyra. It had all been for nothing. Snack. Lunch. Fresh Meat.
Jaime looked around the room trying to find a way out of being devoured. She saw one of Lyra’s nylon legs crossed over her knee far below Lyra’s lower lip. Her foot was bouncing idly, the designer flat hanging from her toes.
“I could be your foot servant!” Jaime blurted.
Lyra’s mouth froze, and her fingers slowly lifted Jaime out.
“Oh?” Lyra’s face was amused.
“Yes. Please. I just want a job. I can do this!” Jaime yelled with all her might. Somewhere in the horror, she had finally found her voice.
“Well, that does sound nice. Do you think you can do that for me?”
“Yes! Yes! Please, Miss Lyra, Yes!” Jaime begged.
“Alright. We’ll take you on as a desk employee. If you’re not qualified then I’ll have to squish you, alright honey?” Lyra’s voice seemed to be conveying a joke but Jaime knew the reality.
“Yes, Miss Lyra.” Her voice was quivering.
“Don’t speak anymore. You’re LSG property now, act like it won’t you?”
Jaime merely nodded and tried to relax as she withdrew from Lyra’s deadly lips. She was carried lower, past Lyra’s blouse. Her stomach growled, and Jaime knew six women were just on the other side. She told herself that whatever came next, it could have been worse.
Lyra flexed her foot and popped her heel out from her flat. Her foot was sideways, stretched over her knee. Jaime could see the nylon threads on the feet she was massaging earlier that day. She had earned this. She had made it. The thin black nylon line down the back of Lyra’s calf was easily the same thickness as Jaime’s torso.
The heat and moisture of her sole were sickeningly familiar and much stronger at this size. Lyra pressed Jaime’s freezing body into her flesh, and gently massaged in a tight circle around her instep. The backseam terminated just behind the ball of Lyra’s foot, the perfect spot for a massage. Jaime welcomed the heat and tried to assist with the massage but realized her compliance was not necessary. Her body was a tool. Foot massager. Foot toy. Foot bitch. Lyra smeared her around the soft nylon.
Lyra’s fingers pushed Jaime’s body deeper, pressing her between the leather and the ball of her foot. Jaime felt the firm pressure of the shoe on her back as her breasts were compacted into the nylon. The tight squeeze opened up and she was left there under Lyra’s toes. The shoe shifted, and Jaime was pressed close into the nylon fabric. Lyra’s scent was overwhelming, and she could see the individual ridges on her skin behind the nylon. She heard the heel slip back on, silky nylon sliding against moist leather. She was trapped, and Lyra wasted no time molesting Jaime with her toes. They danced around, playing absentmindedly with her shoe like before.
Jaime leaned in, trying to offer comfort to her boss to guarantee her safety. She thought about all the women devoured, and what she did to make them disappear. They were still alive perhaps, inside the women who now made small talk during their break. Jaime reassured herself that this was better than the alternative. Owned by the company was better than being dismantled by Lyra’s body. Being covered in foot sweat was better than being dissolved. Serving these women was better than being their food. It was simple. Jaime had made it. She had survived her last day as an intern. She had proven herself undeserving of being melted down. She had landed a permanent position at LSG.