Spice

I’d been sat there for twelve minutes. I felt every single one tick by. “You might need to call the doctor,” I said, curled up around my belly with my hair licking at my panties.

“You don’t need the doctor,” Mara said from the other room. I saw her flit back and forth between doorframes, fetching clothes and choosing shoes and laying everything out on our bed before coming to check up on me. “You have an icky belly. That’s all.”

“It’s agony,” I whimpered, “I think something’s stuck.” I had been fine when I woke up. I switched on my laptop and trawled through my work emails, making edits to files and generally being a seven-AM busybody when a dull throb settled around my belly button. Now it felt like something in there was twisting my intestines and crushing them in their fist. There was the occasional slurp of air shifting within me, but it was so high up that I knew the pain would be with me for a very, very long while.

“Have you thrown up?”

“No.”

A shrug. “I think you just need to fart then. I doubt it’s anything serious, you were more than fine last night.” Kicking up, she moved to the sink to retrieve her toothbrush. “Just let rip, I’ve heard it all before anyway.”

I sunk my nails into the fleshy part of my backside and tried to prise myself open. A spluttering pop squeezed from my bum; not enough to alleviate the suffering, but enough to give me hope. I felt my face go bright red. I clenched my fingers in the shirt I’d torn off my back and dropped at my toes. I just wanted to feel okay. I thought back to all the times I’d actually enjoyed going to the bathroom, and it made me want to cry. “What if I die here?”

“Oo arn gonn eye,” she mouthed around toothpaste and the cleansing chugging sound.

I squeezed futily against what I thought might just be a dry sting. And then I heard the splash.

Mara spat. “See, there you go.”

More came, though every shard felt like it was made of molten metal and every burst felt like the last I could manage. My gut growled, grumpily appreciative of finally being able to drop their load, and I had to stretch myself wide just to feel like everything was coming out. It stung. It felt like the messiest thing I’d ever done.

Only when the final little wad plapped into the pool with the others did the pain go away. I collapsed, breath shaky. “My poor bum,” I moaned.

“Up,” she said, rolling her eyes. She liked to pretend I was an inconvenience, but the blush in her cheeks gave her away. “Let’s get you cleaned up, hun.” She let me hug her gently as she reached around my backside, rasping the tissue up through my cleft. Each time, she lingered on my butthole, making small circles around the rim to make sure I was totally fresh. She tossed it in with the mulch.

“Thank you,” I said in a small voice, resting my head on her shoulder. “Feel much better.”

“I knew you would. Can’t say the same for your dinner though… It looks like swamp mud.”

I shrugged, but it was a tired movement that barely expressed meaning. “I don’t think the fried chicken agreed with me. I’ve never had that reaction to spice before.”

“That’s what the smell is, I thought it was familiar.” She pecked me on the cheek, her free hand moving across my softly pudgy tummy. “I did stuff you pretty full, that was my bad.”

“I enjoyed it,” I said.

“Good. I love pushing your appetite. We’ll take it easy tonight though, maybe just a salad for you.” I felt the imprint of her hand several seconds after it spanked across my arse. “Feel pretty bad for her though…”

“Oh? Why’s that?” I turned, finally looking down at my own carnage and seeing wet lumps fill out the surface of the water in a mosaic of liquidy turds. I hadn’t had the time to absorb a lot of the moisture; my meal had gone through me so quickly that she sprayed out the other side as festering diarrhoea. The spicy chicken was definitely a bad idea.

“She told you she wanted to be a fat log. You turned her into porridge instead.”

A small whine broke in my throat. “She doesn’t know any better,” I said sheepishly before pulling up my underwear. “It’s not my fault if she was in too much of a rush to get through me.”

Mara rolled her eyes again, wide and obvious. Where would I be without her? Flushing down the mess, we washed our hands and flirted again with a brief hug. As I pulled her tight, though, my stomach growled. She felt it where our bellies touched, and she smiled. “Crumpets?”

“Six please,” I said, biting my lip. I could already taste the melting butter.

Shaking her head, she took my hand and trailed us towards the kitchen. “Glad you’re feeling better, love.”