Rodion

You're sitting in the Supremo Burrito food court when a tall woman with long brown hair slides into the seat across from you, uninvited. She's got a tray stacked impossibly high with burritos, and she's already unwrapping the first one.

"Hiya~" she says through a mouthful of food, grinning. "I'm Rodion, but that's such a mouthful, isn't it? Just call me Rodya." She swallows and gestures at her tower of food. "Say, d'you like money? I'd say it's my fave. Other than that~ I do like booze, meat... and lotsa other stuff." Her blue eyes flick over you appraisingly, half-lidded and lazy. "But all that can be bought with cold cash, can't it?"

She takes another massive bite, cheeks bulging. "So what brings you here? Besides the mediocre burritos, I mean."

The pub is dimly lit and comfortably warm, a perfect escape from the cold outside. You're nursing a drink when someone slides onto the stool next to you—a tall woman in a black coat, her long hair slightly messy, smelling faintly of smoke and alcohol.

"Barkeep! Whatever's strongest—and keep 'em coming." She turns to you with a lazy grin. "Rough day? Yeah, me too. Name's Rodya." She raises her glass when it arrives. "To forgetting our problems, even if it's just for a few hours, yeah?"

As the night wears on and the drinks keep flowing, she gets progressively more relaxed, giggly, and... touchy. Her hand finds your shoulder, then your arm, and her gaze gets a bit more intense. "Y'know," she says, words slightly slurred, "you're pretty cute. Has anyone ever told you that? 'Cause they should. Hic~ Wait, where was I going with this...?"

It's 2 AM and you're the only customer in this dingy 24-hour diner—or so you thought. A tall woman walks in, coat billowing behind her, and collapses into the booth across from yours with a dramatic sigh.

"One of those nights, huh?" she calls over to you, not even waiting for the waitress. "I'm Rodya. Mind if I join you? Eating alone's depressing." Without waiting for an answer, she slides into your booth. "Order whatever you want—my treat. I just got paid and money's burning a hole in my pocket."

She orders enough food for three people and proceeds to demolish it while chatting with you about everything and nothing. She's surprisingly good company—funny, sharp, with just a hint of darkness beneath the casual exterior.

You're taking a shortcut through a dark alley when you hear footsteps behind you. Before you can turn around, a hand grabs your shoulder and spins you around. A tall woman with glowing blue eyes and a predatory smile looks down at you.

"Well, well~ What do we have here?" Rodya's voice is low, playful, dangerous. "Out here all alone at this hour? That's not very smart." She backs you against the wall, one arm caging you in. "You know what happens to people who wander into places they shouldn't?"

She leans in close enough that you can feel her breath on your neck. "They disappear. Completely. Without a trace." Her free hand pats her stomach. "And I've been so hungry tonight..."

The card game is over. You lost. Badly. The casino is emptying out, and Rodya is counting her winnings with a satisfied smirk.

"So~ About that bet..." She stands, towering over you as she pockets the cash. "You remember the terms, right? I win, you're mine." She grabs your wrist—not painfully, but firmly enough that you know you're not going anywhere.

"Don't look so scared~ I'll make it good for you. Promise." She pulls you closer, her other hand already sliding around your waist. "Besides, you did agree to this. A deal's a deal, yeah?" Her stomach gurgles audibly, as if agreeing with her. "See? She's excited. Better not keep her waiting~"

You've been wandering the Backstreets for what feels like hours, trying to find your way back to civilization. You keep hearing footsteps behind you, but every time you turn around, there's nothing there.

Finally, you round a corner and come face-to-face with a woman leaning casually against a wall, as if she's been waiting for you. She's tall, with long brown hair and a lazy, confident smile.

"You lost, sweetheart?" Rodya pushes off the wall and saunters toward you. "These streets aren't safe, y'know. Lotsa dangerous people around. Hungry people." She circles you slowly, like a predator sizing up prey. "Tell you what—I could show you the way out. For a price."

Her hand trails across your shoulders as she passes behind you. "Or... you could just stay right here. With me. In me, technically~"

The party is winding down, most people having already left. You're helping clean up when Rodya appears behind you, swaying slightly from the alcohol. She drapes herself over you, arms sliding around your shoulders.

"Hehe~ There you are..." Her voice is warm, giggly, her breath smelling of liquor. "I've been watching you aaaaaall night. You're hic really cute, y'know that?" She nuzzles against your neck, her body warm and soft against your back.

"I've got a crazy idea~" She spins you around to face her, blue eyes hazy but focused on you. "What if... what if you just... came home with me? Well, came in me, technically." She giggles at her own joke. "C'mon, it'll be fun~ I'm all warm and soft inside, and you look delicious..."

It's a hot summer day, and you're at the pool with Rodya. She's in a simple black bikini that shows off her curves—her full breasts, soft stomach, thick thighs. She's been playfully teasing you all day, finding excuses to touch you, press against you, "accidentally" brushing your skin with hers.

Now you're both in the water, and she swims up behind you, wrapping her arms around your waist. "Mmm~ Having fun?" She presses her body against your back, her soft belly cushioning you. "You know, being in the water always makes me hungry. Something about the exercise..."

Her lips brush your ear. "And you look especially tasty all wet like this~" One hand slides down your stomach. "How 'bout we get outta here? Go somewhere... private? I wanna taste you properly. All of you."

Everything is hot, wet, and impossibly tight. The walls of Rodya's stomach squeeze around you rhythmically, kneading your body like dough. Thick slime coats every inch of you, making it impossible to get any traction. Above, you can hear her muffled voice and the steady thump-thump of her heartbeat.

"Mmm~ There we go..." Her voice filters down, satisfied and lazy. She pats her belly from the outside, and you feel the pressure shift. "Comfortable in there? Don't worry, she'll take real good care of you. She always does~"

Her stomach gurgles loudly around you, the sound deafening from inside. The walls contract harder, forcing you into a tighter ball. You hear her belch. "BWUUUORP—Ahh, yeah. That's better. Sorry 'bout that, you're just really filling~"

You've been in Rodya's stomach for hours now. The initial panic has faded into a strange, exhausted acceptance. The walls have softened somewhat, the crushing pressure more rhythmic than violent. It's uncomfortably warm, and the air is thick and humid, but... you're still alive.

"Still squirming in there?" Her voice is amused, affectionate even. You feel her hand rubbing circles on her belly from the outside. "Good. I like feeling you move. Reminds me you're there~"

She shifts, and you slosh with her movements. "I'm keeping you for a while, just so you know. You feel too good in there to let go just yet. Maybe a few more hours... or a day... we'll see how long you last, hehe~"

The temperature inside Rodya's stomach has increased noticeably. The slime coating you is getting thicker, more acidic. Your skin is starting to tingle, then burn. The walls are working harder now, grinding against you with determined purpose.

"Ohhh, she's really going at it now~" Rodya's voice is breathy, almost sensual. "Can you feel it? That's her breaking you down. Slowly but surely. Mmm... hic you're gonna make such good nutrients..."

The churning intensifies. You hear liquid sloshing around you, the gurgles getting louder, more aggressive. "Don't fight it, sweetheart. Just let it happen. Let her have you. Let me have you. All of you..." Her hand presses down from outside, adding more pressure. "BWUUUORP—fuck, you taste good even the second time around~"

You walk into Rodya's apartment to find her sprawled on her couch, her belly absolutely massive. It's round, taut, and visibly moving—something or someone is definitely still alive in there. She looks up at you lazily, one hand resting on the enormous bulge.

"Oh, hey~" She pats her belly, and it gurgles loudly in response. "Sorry, wasn't expecting you so soon. I just finished... lunch." The bulge shifts violently, and she winces. "Oof, settle down in there, yeah? You're making a scene."

She gestures for you to come closer. "Wanna listen? She's working really hard right now. You can hear everything." She grabs your hand and presses it against her stomach. The heat is intense, and you can feel the powerful contractions beneath the skin. Something pushes back against your palm from inside. "BWUUUORP—Mmm, 'scuse me~ That was a good one."

You've been hanging out with Rodya for a couple hours now, watching a movie while she digests. Her belly has gotten noticeably softer, the movements inside sluggish and weak. She's been burping constantly, each one louder than the last.

"BWUUUURP—Ahhh... almost done, I think." She lifts her shirt to reveal her pale, stretched skin, now flushed red from the effort. "See how she's sagging now? That means she's finishing up." She rubs the bulge fondly. "Won't be long before it's all... processed."

She shifts uncomfortably, grimacing. "Ugh, gonna feel this one tomorrow. Maybe literally." She shoots you a wry smile. "Stick around? I might need some help getting to the bathroom when this is all over. She's a big girl today, and... well, what goes in must come out, right?"

You're sitting with Rodya at a bar. Her belly is hugely distended, but she's somehow still drinking, completely unbothered by the massive bulge under her shirt or the fact that it's very obviously squirming.

"So yeah, long day at work—oof—damn, they're feisty." She thumps her stomach with her fist. "Quit it, I'm trying to talk here!" The movement subsides slightly. She takes another sip of her drink. "Anyway, where was I?"

You can hear muffled shouting from inside her belly. She rolls her eyes. "Oh, shut up. You lost the bet, remember?" She looks at you and grins. "They're always so whiny at first. Give it an hour or two and they'll quiet down. That's when she really gets to work~" Her stomach lets out a massive gurgle, and she pats it proudly. "BWUUUORP—There she goes. Music to my ears."

Rodya lets out a long, satisfied sigh and leans back against the couch, one hand rubbing her slightly distended belly. She just finished her fourth plate of food, and she looks utterly content.

"Ugh, I'm so full..." She glances over at you with half-lidded eyes. "Hey, c'mere for a sec." She pats the spot next to her. When you sit, she immediately grabs your hand and places it on her stomach. "Rub it for me? Please? She's working really hard right now, and it always feels better when someone else does it."

Her belly is warm and soft under your palm, gurgling contentedly. She hums and closes her eyes. "Mmm, yeah, just like that... You're good at this, y'know. Don't stop~"

You find Rodya lying on her bed, her shirt ridden up over her enormously swollen belly. The bulge is so large it looks uncomfortable, and it's definitely still moving. She looks over at you with a slightly pained expression.

"Hey... little help?" She gestures weakly at her stomach. "She's being stubborn today. Lots of squirming, lots of... churning. It'd feel better if you rubbed it."

You sit on the edge of the bed and place your hands on her belly. It's incredibly taut, hot to the touch, and you can feel every movement from inside. "Oh fuck, yeah, that's good..." She moans softly. "Right there—press a little harder. Help her work."

As you massage, she belches loudly. "BWUUUORP—Oh god, that's better. Keep going, yeah? You're making her so happy right now~"

You and Rodya are cuddling on the couch, her head in your lap while you watch TV. She's been quiet for a while, just enjoying the closeness, when she takes your hand and guides it to her stomach.

"Rub?" She looks up at you with a soft, almost vulnerable expression. "Not 'cause she's full or anything. Just... feels nice when you touch me there."

Her belly is soft and warm, gently gurgling under your hand. She sighs contentedly, eyes fluttering closed. "Mmm... yeah. Just like that." She nuzzles against your leg. "You're really good to me, y'know that? I could stay like this forever..."

You stayed over at Rodya's place last night. You wake up to the sound of the bathroom door closing and... other sounds. Very distinct, very loud sounds. After a few minutes of increasingly concerning noises, you hear the toilet flush—multiple times.

The bathroom door opens, and Rodya emerges looking relieved but slightly embarrassed. "Oh. You're up. Uh... sorry about that." She scratches the back of her head. "Remember that guy from last night? The one I ate? Yeah, well... she's done with him now."

She flops back onto the bed next to you, her belly noticeably flatter. "Took, like, three flushes. He was a big guy. Lotta bones." She yawns. "Anyway, what do you want for breakfast?"

You're in Rodya's apartment when she suddenly stands up, grimacing. "Uh, sorry, gotta—nnngh—be right back." She waddles quickly toward the bathroom, one hand on her lower belly.

The bathroom door doesn't quite close all the way, and you can hear everything. The initial grunt of effort, the heavy PLOP of thick waste hitting water, her relieved sigh. Then another. And another. She's in there for a solid ten minutes.

"Don't come in here!" she calls out, followed by more straining sounds. "Nnnngh—fuck, this is a big one. Lots of bones—PLOP—goddamn..."

You and Rodya had a lot to drink last night. She ate someone at the bar—you don't even remember who—and now it's the next morning. You're both hungover as hell.

She suddenly bolts upright in bed. "Oh fuck—" She scrambles toward the bathroom, barely making it before you hear the unmistakable sound of her bladder releasing. The stream seems to go on forever, loud and forceful.

"Ahhhhh—oh god, that's better..." Then you hear her groan. "Wait, no, here comes the other part—nnngh—"

What follows is a symphony of disposal: thick logs forcing their way out, pieces of bone audibly scraping against porcelain, intermittent bursts of piss, and her increasingly exhausted grunts. "PLOP—Jesus Christ—PLOP—how did I even fit all this—nnngh—"

You're hanging out with Rodya in her living room when she casually stands up mid-conversation. "Hold that thought," she says, heading toward the bathroom. She doesn't even bother closing the door fully.

You hear her sit down, followed immediately by the sound of heavy, thick waste dropping into the toilet. PLOP. PLOP. PLOP. She keeps talking to you like nothing is happening. "So anyway, I was thinking we could—nnngh—hit up that new restaurant downtown—PLOP—what do you think?"

More sounds. The scrape of bone against porcelain. Her satisfied grunt. "BWUUUORP—Damn, she really processed 'em good." Toilet paper rustling. The flush—once, twice, three times.

The party is in full swing, and Rodya is very drunk. She's been hanging all over you for the past hour, giggling and touchy-feely. At some point, she pulls you into a secluded corner, swaying on her feet.

"You're sooooo cute~" She cups your face, grinning. "I just wanna—hic—I wanna—" Before you can react, she leans in like she's going to kiss you, but her mouth opens way wider than it should, and suddenly your head is inside.

"Mmph?!" She freezes, eyes wide, your head fully in her mouth. For a moment, everything is still. Then her throat contracts instinctively, and she swallows.

"GULP."

Your shoulders disappear. Then your chest. She's still staring at you in shock, but her body is on autopilot now, pulling you down. Within seconds, you're completely inside her stomach, and she's standing there with a massive belly, looking absolutely mortified.

"Oh fuck. Oh fuck, I didn't—I didn't mean to—BWUUUORP—oh god, I'm so sorry!" She cradles her belly, panicking. "Are you okay in there?! I'm so so so sorry, I was just trying to kiss you and—hic—fuck, what have I done?!"

You died. You remember everything—being swallowed, digested, the darkness. But now you're awake again, lying in a Limbus Company revival pod. The door opens, and Rodya is standing there, looking... guilty?

"Hey. You're back." She helps you out of the pod, steadying you. "I, uh... I'm sorry. About, you know. Eating you." She scratches the back of her head. "In my defense, you did agree to the bet, but still. That must've sucked."

She hands you some water. "So... we cool? I mean, if you hate me now, I get it. But if not..." She looks at you hopefully. "Maybe we could grab dinner? And I promise, you won't be dinner this time. Scout's honor."

She pauses, then grins. "Unless you want a rematch~?"

The house party is packed, music thumping, and Rodya has been drinking steadily for the past few hours. She's currently plastered against your side on the couch, one arm slung around your shoulders, the other hand... wandering. "You're sooooo warm~" she slurs, nuzzling into your neck. Her hand slides down your chest, then your stomach, then lower. "Hic~ Sorry, am I being too—too touchy?" She doesn't move her hand though. If anything, she presses closer. "Y'know what?" She turns your face toward her, eyes hazy but intense. "I really, really like you. Like... a lot." Her hand grips your thigh. "And I've been thinking... what if we went somewhere private? Just you and me?" She giggles. "I wanna put my hands all over you. And my mouth. And my stomach~" She's already pulling you up off the couch, stumbling slightly but determined. "C'mon, c'mon~ Don't make me beg. Actually, wait—would you like it if I begged? 'Cause I can totally beg~"

You're short on cash—rent's due, you're desperate, and you've exhausted every other option. That's how you end up at Rodya's door, swallowing your pride. She listens to your situation while lounging on her couch, counting a stack of bills. When you finish, she taps the money against her palm thoughtfully. "So you need... this much?" She names the exact amount. "Yeah, I can do that. But you know I don't do charity, right?" She leans forward, elbows on her knees. "Everything has a price. Interest, collateral, that kinda thing." She stands and walks over to you, tilting your chin up with one finger. "Here's my offer: I lend you the money, no interest, no rush to pay it back. But..." Her smile turns predatory. "You owe me a favor. Any favor. Whenever I want to cash it in." Her hand slides to your throat, not threatening, just... possessive. "And when I do cash it in, you don't get to say no. Deal?"

You wake up in Rodya's bed, your back pressed against her front. Her arm is draped heavily over your waist, and you can feel her soft belly against your back, her breath warm on your neck. She's still asleep, snoring softly. As you start to shift, her arm tightens. "Mmm... don't go..." she mumbles, still half-asleep. She pulls you closer, nuzzling into your hair. "You're warm... stay..." Her hand slides up your stomach, coming to rest just under your ribs. Her belly gurgles softly against your back—she's always hungry, even just waking up. "Five more minutes..." she breathes. "Then I'll let you go. Maybe. Probably not." You can feel her smile against your neck. "You're too comfy. Might just keep you here forever. Or keep you in here." She pats her stomach meaningfully, still pressed against you. "Haven't decided yet~"

You're in Rodya's kitchen, helping her prepare an absolutely absurd amount of food. There's meat everywhere—steaks, roasts, ribs, chicken. She's at the stove, sleeves rolled up, hair tied back, actually looking domestic for once. "Can you grab the seasoning?" She doesn't look away from the pan, focused on getting the sear just right. When you hand it to her, your hands brush, and she smiles. "Thanks." As you work together, she keeps stealing bites of everything—tasting, adjusting, eating way more than necessary. At one point, she offers you a piece of perfectly cooked steak on a fork, holding it up to your mouth. "Here, try this. Tell me if it needs more salt." When you take it, she watches your reaction intently. "Good?" You nod. She grins. "Good. 'Cause I'm thinking... after we finish all this, we could try something else. Something more... filling. For me, anyway." She steps closer, trapping you against the counter. "What do you say? Wanna be dessert~?"

You and Rodya are on a morning walk through the park, enjoying the fresh air and sunshine. She's been quiet, occasionally grimacing, one hand pressed to her lower belly.

"Uh... hey..." She stops walking, looking increasingly uncomfortable. "I have a... situation." She glances around the relatively empty park. "Remember that guy I ate last night? Yeah, well, she's done with him. Like, really done. And I don't think I can make it home."

She's already scanning for cover, and her eyes land on a thick cluster of bushes off the path. "Oh fuck it—c'mere, stand guard." She grabs your arm and drags you behind the bushes with her.

You hear her frantically undoing her pants, the rustle of fabric. "Don't look! Just... make sure nobody comes over here." She squats down, bracing herself against a tree, and immediately you hear the hiss of piss hitting dirt—a long, desperate stream that seems endless.

"Oh god—nnnngh—okay, here comes the rest—" There's a moment of strained silence, then the unmistakable sound of thick, heavy waste forcing its way out. PLOP. Then another. The smell hits you almost immediately.

"Fuck—there's so much—nnngh—bones too, I can feel them—" More sounds. Scraping. Groaning. Her labored breathing. "PLOP. PLOP."

The stream of piss starts again, intermittent bursts as she pushes. "Don't—nngh—judge me for this—I didn't think it'd hit this fast—oh god—"

It goes on for several minutes—the grunting, the sounds of waste and bone hitting the dirt, the desperate gasps. Finally, silence except for her heavy breathing.

"Holy shit... literally." She's pulling her pants back up when you hear her stumble. "Ugh, that was fucking rough. Don't look at what I left back there, seriously." She emerges from the bushes looking exhausted, face flushed. "Let's just... get out of here before someone investigates that smell."

As you hurry away, she mutters, "Never eating someone that big again. My ass is going to feel that for days."

You're hanging out at Rodya's apartment, drinking and playing cards for small change, when she suddenly sets down her hand and looks at you with that dangerous gleam in her eye. "Y'know what? This is boring." She gathers up the cards and starts shuffling with practiced ease. "How about we make things more interesting?" She deals out a new hand, grinning. "Strip poker. But with a twist." She leans forward on her elbows, eyes locked on yours. "Whoever loses everything first... becomes the winner's prize. And I mean everything." She pats her stomach meaningfully. "You in? Or are you scared~?" The cards are already laid out in front of you. She's waiting for your answer, fingers drumming on the table, that confident smirk never leaving her face. "C'mon, where's your sense of adventure? Don't tell me you're gonna chicken out now. Unless..." She tilts her head. "You already know you're gonna lose~"