The Price of Curiosity

Sweltering from hours of churning its occupant under tailored confines, Elysia's bare gut glowed with a sheen of sweat. In the mid-afternoon light, every facet of the unlucky girl was painted in sharp relief under the light-brown flesh; elbows and handprints flashing and fading in a momentary struggle, the swell of her hips flaring out in sync with a splash of bile, her ambiguous features locked in a rictus of euphoric desolation. She cried out, but the meaning was lost under the roar of demonic digestion, the sound like a volcano erupting deep under the char-broiled wastes of hell.