Rose

A story about a woman and a little girl.

Rose slid her hands under the unconscious, frostbitten girl’s chest and pulled up from the ground. She quickly stopped and caught her head as it limply fell back, and then lifted again. Slower this time. Gently.
She looked more closely at the girl. Her pale cheeks were perfectly smooth, pearls in the subtle moonlight. Flawless ice crystals had formed on the girl’s eyelashes and frozen the lids shut. No more than six years old, Rose imagined. Or perhaps seven. Not that it mattered, really. Rose noticed her hands shaking as she brought the girl’s head up further. Anticipation. She craned her neck down, down towards the girl’s soft face, opening her lips.
And her mouth opened wide. Wider than humanly possible. Her jaw stretched and unhinged until it was large enough for the small girl’s head to fit inside. Gently she pushed the girl’s head into her mouth, feeling her partially frozen hair tickle the back of her throat; scratching it as she pushed just a bit harder, impatient for her throat to expand. It did. Slowly. And she felt the head slide in. Euphoria. The carnal intensity of the lashes unfreezing against her warm tongue; the small nose against the front of her throat, bulging through her neck; the limp jaw slowly pushed open by the back of her tongue. Ecstasy.
She struggled to position herself such that the rest of the girl could go in straight. Little as the girl was, she was still easily the biggest Rose had tried yet. She abandoned trying to do it standing, as she had done with the smaller ones. Unfortunate. She got down on her knees, straightening out her neck. She sunk into the frosted grass and felt the sting of the frozen soil underneath. Cold. But it was worth it.
Rose’s mouth continued to expand to accommodate the girl’s shoulders as she continued to push her in. She felt the rough cotton of the t-shirt come first into contact with her tongue; then with her tonsils, as she felt the ends of the girl’s hair disappear inside her. The girl’s shoulders were the widest part of her body, and her torso slid in easily. Rose was so full. Filled. Ecstasy. Perfection. But she wanted more.
The girl’s head now pushed at the bottom of her stomach. This had never happened before, not with the small ones. The unfilling ones. Rose made her body as long as possible to make more room. She swung the girl’s legs above her, in the hope gravity would help coax more of the beautiful girl inside her. Instead the girl’s feet swung down from above her, a small heel connecting sharply with the base of Rose’s skull. Her neck spasmed and she gagged for a moment, falling backwards with the weight of the girl’s lower body. She pushed herself upright again, more cautiously this time. She pulled down again, as hard as she could. She heard the cracks of the now corpse’s spine contorting into unnatural angles. She forced it until it began to curl towards the front of her stomach. One of the girl’s shoulders jutted visibly to the left of Rose’s navel. Hungry. She pulled and pulled and pulled. Desperate.
Inch by inch, Rose managed to shove more of the girl inside herself. The girl’s slender legs, bare past her shorts, were much smaller now than Rose’s engorged esophagus. It began to shrink again, closing in on the wonderfully smooth skin of the girl’s thighs, the contraction helping push the remainder further in. As the legs moved down, Rose’s lips and tongue probed every surface of them, feeling them, tasting them, loving them. Soon all that was left protruding from Rose’s erect, distorted body was a pair of very small shoes. Rose fumbled with the laces until they untied and slipped these last bits of rubber and fabric off the girl’s feet. Without ceremony, she shoved the feet of child into her mouth and closed it.

And Rose was so full she couldn’t move.
She fell to the ground.
Filled.
Ecstasy.
Perfection.
But she wanted more.
Needed more.