This week’s S L I C K is curated and edited by Malic White.

Content notes: anal sex, surreal anal play, betrayal/revenge

Tanya had been flirting with Marianne for over an hour, but she wasn’t sure that meant anything in the big scheme of things. When you meet someone at a house show, in the basement, as the bands are playing and the floor is packed, you have no idea if they’re talking to you — flirting with you? — because they’re actually interested or because you just happen to be the person standing next to them. How was Tanya to know that Marianne wouldn’t just leave her as soon as the last band was done? How was Tanya to know whether the past hour or so had meant something to Marianne like it had to her?

She hadn’t talked to anyone like this in months. Almost a year. She went to shows like this all the time. This particular one was even at her house. So often, she’d meet someone in the crowd, they’d flirt a little and that would be that. But she hadn’t just flirted a little with Marianne. No, Tanya had flirted a lot, enough so that a hundred doors to a hundred different possible futures for them, as friends, as friends with benefits, even as a couple, had opened up in her head. Most of them, though, didn’t end up with them in any sort of relationship at all, romantic or otherwise. No, they ended with Marianne leaving her when the music stopped, as if nothing had happened at all.

The show was starting to thin out but Marianne was still hovering around Tanya. They were past dancing, past chatting, even past laughing. Caught in those tender moments, each interpreting the heat the other was giving off as they stood in silence next to each other. The two were both trying to say, in everything but words, the most beautiful and intimate of questions: Hey, wanna fuck?

Tanya wasn’t the kind of queer to make the first move, generally speaking, but that night was different. Marianne was different. She seemed more than interested in what Tanya had to say. Her words were gentle and warm, but funny and sexy. Like a horny heated blanket that could make you laugh. So tonight, for once, Tanya broke the silence just as her hopefully-soon-to-be-lover opened her mouth to do the same.

“So, uh, I live here, dude. So, uh, yeah, you know, if you want, like, I have a room here, cause like I said I live here, you know….” Tanya rambled.

“You have your own room and we don’t even have to leave this house to get there? Say no more, I’m sold,” chuckled Marianne.

“What?” asked Tanya.

“I would love to go up to your room with you,” half-yelled Marianne.

“Oh, tight,” smiled Tanya.

Marianne went in for a kiss and Tanya was more than glad that she did.

What happened next was a make out walk to Tanya’s room at the other end of the basement. It was not a very considerate means of transportation. They were smooching and shuffling, arms going this way and that, like a many-tentacled beast thrashing through a basement that wasn’t quite empty, and as such contained people that were forced to jump out of their way.

“Jesus, Marianne, what are you doing?” said some queer that the beast heard but didn’t see, “Well, if you’re really going to do this, have a good night at least.”

The beast ignored their words.

Somehow they opened and closed the door to Tanya’s. Somehow they got completely undressed while still making out at full power. Somehow they fucked for four hours straight without having so much as a sip of water between them. Their two bodies came together to form one instrument. Their orgasms were so frequent that they kept a beat. It was the kind of sex that would become part of Tanya’s own personal erotic mythos. The intensity of pleasure, the unrestrained intimacy and the vulnerability that those things bring with them turn into a story she’d play in her head again and again, whether she was at her most loved or her most lonely. Tanya didn’t want the myth to end tonight, though. Even in the midst of the actual experience of intimacy, she couldn’t stop imagining how to make sure this intense connection with Marianne continued for long past this encounter. As Marianne went in and out of Tanya, tears welled up in her eyes. How? She thought. How can I make this last forever?

Tanya and Marianne woke up, realizing they must have eventually drifted off to sleep. Just as Tanya was going to ask if she wanted to get breakfast, Marianne looked at her phone and didn’t like what she saw.

“Oh shit,” exclaimed Marianne, “I’m so fucking late for my job right now.”

“Where do you work?” asked Tanya.

“Doesn’t matter anymore. Fuck, I’m probably fired.” A few hot tears began to roll down her face.

Tanya put an arm around her. “It’s going to be ok, dude,” she said. A meek attempt that was still, apparently, enough comfort for Marianne to start making out with her again.

And just like that, they were back at it. A lot of munching. A number of fingers going into a number of holes, etc, etc. But there was still one seal that hadn’t been broken. Marianne had been very vocal about wanting her asshole to receive every sexual treatment, but Tanya hadn’t invited Marianne to do the same and, as such, Marianne was reluctant to ask. But, considering she had just thrown away any chance of saving her job to continue fucking, she thought she might as well ask.

“Can I eat your ass?” she asked Tanya.

“Uh, I mean, yeah, sure. I haven’t had anyone do that before, but it would be cool, yeah, I’m cool with it,” bumbled Tanya in reply.

Tanya’s conception of the position she needed to assume in order to be prepared to have her ass eaten was overwrought. She arched her back in such a drastic way that she looked more like a water slide than a person. Her butt floated high above the bed, ready to either be eaten or knocked off its perch.

“Oh, ok,” said Marianne, giggling at her lover’s form.

“Is this cool?” asked Tanya.

“Yeah, babe,” Marianne laughed, “This is cool.”

Babe. She called me babe, Tanya thought to herself. That must mean something. Eating her ass must mean something too. Especially after she told Marianne this was her first time. She was giving her anal virginity to her. Wait, is the concept of anal virginity problematic? Tanya thought. Nah, she thought further.

Marianne’s tongue licked around Tanya’s asshole. It felt pretty good. Then it went in, and that felt incredible. A whole new spectrum of sexual relief.

“Is this ok?” asked Marianne.

“Yeah, you’re doing great back there,” said Tanya.

Marianne’s tongue went in again. Deeper this time. Writhing around, finding every place there was to pleasure. Out again. In again. Even deeper this time. Reaching further and further into a hole that, for Tanya, felt endless. Out again. In again. This time much deeper than before. It felt like something much bigger was in there now, but Tanya liked it. But then, it just kept coming. It had felt like Marianne’s entire nose was inside her, but now it was even more than that.

Tanya looked back and saw that Marianne’s entire head was inside of her ass.

Illustration by Laura Lee Benjamin.

This is when she began to freak out.

Tanya twisted and thrashed while Marianne pushed back on her butt to try and wiggle her head out. Their attempts to dislodge from each other, however, seemed to accelerate the opposite conclusion. As Tanya wriggled around, her asshole grew into a monstrous maw and swallowed Marianne whole.

Marianne woke up in a pitch black, damp, room made of flesh that was scarcely larger than she was. It wasn’t a stomach exactly, but it certainly felt like one. Maybe it was a similar space, she thought, but to process something other than food. At least I’m not food, Marianne told herself. She was surprised at her own calmness in the face of the situation, but wherever she was, it was as if it was emanating some sort of force field that washed over her, making her feel warm and fuzzy, convincing her that everything would be alright. It was exactly how Tanya had made her feel this morning after she realized she’d slept in and missed work. It was exactly how she shouldn’t feel right now. Or then.

She shouldn’t have been with Tanya at all in the first place. This wasn’t like her. She didn’t cheat. Well, until last night. There was just something about Tanya. Her lackadaisical kindness. The way she was eager to love and be loved. Her refusal to pick out the words she wanted to say before she said them was beyond cute. It was endearing, but in a sexy way. Sexually endearing. That might not be quite the right term, Marianne thought to herself, but I have bigger problems.

“Marianne? Marianne?” Tanya yelled. From where, Marianne wasn’t certain, but it was certainly from outside her little cube.

“I’m here. Can you hear me?” screamed Marianne at the top of her lungs.

“Yes, oh my god, yes I can hear you, babe,” cried Tanya.

“Where the hell am I?”

“I don’t know, it sounds like you’re talking from inside of me. Like your voice is coming out of my ass.”

“Well, at least that makes sense.”

“Yeah, lol.”

Their discussion yielded no further answers. When Marianne banged on the walls of her fleshy prison, Tanya couldn’t feel it. When Tanya slapped her ass, Marianne couldn’t feel it either. They thought Marianne must be in some sort of metaphysical space inside of Tanya, but they couldn’t know for sure.

Tanya tried everything. Pooping. Eating Domino’s and then pooping again, with much more power. Hose administered enema. Just shoving her hand up there. Nothing. Just as they suspected, Marianne didn’t seem to be taking up any sort of physical space inside of her. Tanya’s asshole wasn’t a shrink ray, it was a gateway to another dimension entirely.

After a couple hours of experimentation, Tanya sat down on her bed and started to cry.

“This is it for us, isn’t it?” Tanya asked Marianne.

“What do you mean, honey?” replied Marianne, confused but sweet.

“When you get out of me, if you get out of me, you’re not going to want anything to do with me again, are you?”

Marianne took a deep breath. She thought of all the joy she found with Tanya in the short amount of time they’d spent together. The dozens of memories just a single night with her had pasted into her mental scrapbook. She wasn’t sure what to do about Clade, but she knew she didn’t want things to just end with Tanya.

“No, babe. When I get out of here, I’ll want to see you again. I promise.”

An overwhelming sense of relief washed over Tanya. A security she’d never known before in love or even friendship. A girl who had been subsumed by her ass still wanted to be a part of her life if she was able to get out of the aforementioned ass. Every day, Tanya wished to find someone like this. Someone like Marianne. She’d never imagined these circumstances, but if she had known what would happen ahead of time, she would have still gone through with it. She was just so lonely. It wasn’t that she lacked friends or family or people that loved her in general. It was that she didn’t have anyone giving her the particular kind of love she craved. A focused love. An unconditional love. A love without limits or logic. A love that was hers to have. A love she owned.

As Tanya’s confidence in the future of her relationship with Marianne grew, a small hole on the bottom of the flesh room Marianne remained trapped inside of appeared. An anus of sorts. It wasn’t yet large enough for her to escape through yet, but it was growing by the minute.

“We’re really going to see each other again? You promise?”

“I promise….” said Marianne, cut off by a knock on the door.

BANG. BANG. BANG. They just kept going. None of Tanya’s roommates seemed to be home, or at least none of them were willing to get off their asses and open the door, so, butt stuff notwithstanding, Tanya went to do it herself.

A denim vest dyke was on the other side of the door. Scraggly but beautiful blonde hair and red in the face. They looked like they ran to get here.

“Hey, uh, sorry for all of that racket, I’m Clade,” said the vested dyke, “I’m just stopping by to see if my partner was her last night. Her name is Marianne, she’s a little taller than me, beautiful red hair, kinda, uh, I guess curvy? Weird to describe someone’s weight, but, uh, well she’s missing. She didn’t come home last night and she didn’t show up at work.”

“Wait, you’re… you’re Marianne’s partner?” asked Tanya.

“Yeah, yeah, that’s me. So you know her?”

As Tanya talked to her partner, Marianne saw the hole on the bottom of her flesh prison close.

“Fuck!” scream-whispered Marianne.

“Wait, what was that? Was that Marianne? Is she here?” asked Clade.

“No, no,” said Tanya, clenching her fists, “I just have an overactive stomach.”

The color drained from Clade’s face. Their eyes filled with the kind of big, warm, salty tears you never forget crying. As they wept, their whole body began to shake.

“I don’t know what to do,” they cried, “I don’t want to call the fucking cops, but it’s like she just vanished. My friend Hank thought he saw her go home with someone last night, but he’s not sure who. We… We hadn’t even talked about opening up our relationship, but if that’s what she wanted, I mean, I wouldn’t just break up with her. I just want to know she’s ok. It’s not like her to not respond to anyone’s texts, not show up to work, not call or nothing.”

“I’m so sorry,” lied Tanya, “Why don’t you come in for a second so you can figure out what to do?”

As Clade came in and sat down, Tanya’s anger continued to mount. How dare Marianne pretend that she cared about her? How dare Marianne promise that Tanya would be her everything, that they would go on and on together, only to reveal that she already had that someone? How dare she trick her like this? Marianne had to be held accountable. She had to answer for this. Tanya’s distorted thoughts swirled around her head, creating a plan to exact painful revenge on her one night stand that she had permanently labeled her fated lover, all in the name of a twisted concept of accountability that gave her license to harm anyone she thought had crossed her.

But, Tanya didn’t need a plan of revenge, her subconscious was handling that for her. As her anger grew, the flesh walls began to close in on her object of affection and contempt. Marianne struggled against the consuming flesh. Pushing against the walls. Scratching them. Biting them. But nothing she did had any effect. The flesh seemed to grow around her and contract at the same time, filling her mouth, going deeper and deeper inside of her. Then pushing against her eyes, soft but slow, until the pressure was too much and… Pop. Pop. Down the flesh went.

Once Marianne was completely filled, veins and arteries began to form, connecting her blood to the blood of the room and the body and the soul of her captor. She wasn’t dead, but Marianne was now the servant of another’s life. She’d been transformed into a new organ, with the purpose of rationalizing all of Tanya’s insecurities and validating her rage at those who didn’t have the power to wipe them away with a kiss and a smile.

Tanya brought Clade a cup of coffee as they sat on the couch crying.

“You know, I thought about what you said for a second and, I think I did see Marianne go home with someone last night. Or, at least someone that looked like her,” said Tanya.

“Really?” Clade replied.

“Yeah. I’m so sorry.”

Clade cried harder. Tanya put her arm around them. Clade leaned in.

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