Customer Service 

by Strega 

Story Copyright (C) By: Strega
 1998 - All rights reserved.

Story not to be reprinted, or redistributed, without author's Permission.

If you wish to use the stories, or 
anything copyright by me, please e-mail me.
I'll also forward any mail to the author.


Customer Service
By Strega

It was almost December, and and the summer was coming on in Australia. Ninety-two degrees here in Rockingham, by the english measure, and it was still early in the day; by noon it would be closer to a hundred. The streets shimmered in the glare, and air conditioners struggled to maintain livable conditions inside homes and businesses.
The offices of Accessin were in the front half on a two-story corner building. A tiny patch of lawn fronted the place, with a rounded sign advertising the Internet service provider. It was there that the oddity first appeared.
In the shade of the sign, a dark form seemed to bubble from the grass. A curve broad as two hands together, covered with a mixture of pure black and stark white fur. In the midst of the band of white, a glittering, black eye, lacking whites or visible pupil, blinked at the name on the sign. And then, drained back into the grass and soil, as though it had never been. It had existed for just seconds; only a single passerby had noticed anything, and he shook his head, continuing on his way. He could not have seen what he thought he saw.
"Katie, I'm going across the street to get something to eat. Do you want anything?" It was much cooler inside the office; the tinted windows kept the glare out, and the air conditioner kept the temperature closer to seventy degrees than ninety. The two desks fronted the door to the entry hallway; Accessin had grown enough to need two receptionists and customer service representatives.
Katie had to smile. Donna had been here as long as she had, more than a year, and still she always asked, even if she never wanted anything. Donna's hair was brown, Katie's was blond, but they might have been sisters otherwise; five foot four, trim, and just this side of thirty.
"No thanks, Donna. I have my bag lunch in the break room." The bell on the outer door jingled, and Katie was gone; Donna rose from her chair, and went down the hall to snag the lunch.
The anomaly appeared again. Black and white fur rose through the blue carpet near the desk, like a shadow, or perhaps a ghost. More appeared, and suddenly it had a form; a great, black weaselly creature, large as a tiger, with six short legs and huge, long-clawed paws. Obsidian-black eyes glanced around, and it stepped aside, releasing the second form it had clutched beneath it.
The stoat gasped, sucking in a series of quick breaths. Like the weaseloid, he was not humanoid in the slightest; he was a summer-coated weasel, some five and a half feet from nose to rump, four feet of longfurred tail behind. Dark brown above, cream-colored fur beneath, he was maybe a third the mass of the other. Sleek and muscular, he was powerful out of all proportion to his size, his movements lightning-quick as he recovered.
"How do you stand the dark?" The stoat glanced at the black creature, stretched out now near the glass outer wall. "And the quiet."
The larger weaseloid flicked a whisker. "I have the devices to let me see…" She touched a claw to the harness she wore. "And breathe. Are you all right?"
The stoat didn't answer. Instead he was looking at the hallway door. The black creature rose, padding closer to the door, silent for all her bulk.
Donna pushed the door inward, and let it close behind her as she stepped into the office. The phone had been silent, so no need to hurry. Setting the paper bag on the desk next to her name plaque, she stepped around the edge…and jumped with a double shock. First, the stoat she'd talked to yesterday was lying flattened behind the desk, looking up at her with those dark eyes; and more startling, a hot, wet lick traced the inside of her knee. She spun….
…And was confronted by a strange creature, somewhat like the stoat in form, but six-legged, and much larger. It, too, had the black, black eyes, standing out of a mask of white fur, the white patterning its back with a confusing pattern of stripes as well. "Wh-what…?" She pressed a hand to her breast, trying to stay calm. "May I help you?"
The thing flicked long, white whiskers, seeming to consider her. "It's not I you need to help. I'm sure you remember Dellway." Donna glanced behind her, finding the stoat sitting up now, eyeing her with eyes just as unreadable, seeming to assess her.
"Um…yes, you know, I just talked to the technicians, and they said there was noth-" Donna shook her head. "N-noth…" And coughed. "Wh…" She stopped, rubbing her Adam's apple. She could breathe perfectly, but sounds didn't seem to want to come out. "Mmmmff."
The black creature seemed to smile. "Having a little trouble talking? Don't worry, it's temporary. Just a little something to paralyze your vocal chords. Now, as for helping…." Donna gave a strangled squeak, the loudest noise she could manage, as the stoat grabbed at her ankles from behind. His claws caught in her pumps, and she fell forward, landing on hands and belly with a dull thump. The stoat pulled at her feet, and she rolled over, looking down her belly at the weasel. "Mmmf!"
The stoat pulled her foot up, claws lodged in the leather of her shoe, and with a quick, sideward motion of his head, closed his jaws over it. Fangs scraped past her ankles, and her foot was caught in the wet heat of his mouth, for all she tried to pull it free. "Mmm!" Digging her nails into the carpet, she kicked at his nosepad with her other foot.
"Oh, that was a mistake." The black creature behind her spoke with a cool, clinical detachment, as Dellway's muzzle flashed up, yawning wide to catch the second foot and trap both inside. "You really don't know him, do you. If you had bothered to listen to his complaints…."
Donna looked back at the black thing, shaking her head. "Mrf. Mrff!" She looked down again, shocked, as the most peculiar sensation slid over her feet. Dellway was pushing his muzzle downward and forward, forcing her knees up towards her belly, his four paws planted hard on the rug. Heat and wet slickness slid over her toes, where they stood out of the shoes, and her ankles as well. It wasn't until she saw his neckfur bulge suddenly that she realized he has just swallowed her feet.
She blinked at him, confused…what had he done? It tickled, slippery and hot over her ankles, and she found herself giggling silently.
Until he pushed forward again, much harder than she expected, and her calves pushed into his muzzle, slid past scraping fangs, were swallowed up in his hot gullet. Her knees vanished…and he was not stopping. Cold, dark weaselish eyes looked at her past her thighs, and from behind, and she realized what was happening.
"Mmff!" She pushed frantically at the carpet, trying to drag herself away, trying to escape that horrible grip. The stoat just walked after, her neck swelling, her knees bulging shapes through the fur, and swallowed again, her knees sucked down by powerful, gripping throat-muscles. She could feel his pulse around her calves, now, rapid, excited, and the little air that he managed to suck in, as he…ate her.
"…hlp. Hlp!" She looked at the door, the desk, the terrible black creature who watched her emotionlessly as she struggled. "Hlp!" Reaching up, she clawed at the edge of the desk, trying for the phone. Even if she could not speak….
The black thing casually took the cord between two claws, like chopsticks, and dragged it an inch or so back. Just out of reach. Donna lunged at it, and the beast tugged again, just as Dellway lunged forward. Her head rapped the edge of the desk, and she fell sideways as stars spun, her shoulder pushing the chair over with a sharp smack.
"If Dellway were of another sort, or in another mood, perhaps he'd be behind you now, holding you with those strong little forepaws as he pushed himself into you. Painfully, I expect, as he seems to like what I'd call a tailhole." The black thing gestured vaguely with a long-clawed paw, as Donna recovered, blinking down at stoat muzzle that now encircled her waist. "But he is very unhappy with you…."
Donna squeaked, and grabbed desperately at the furry stoat cheeks. The throat was wrapped around all of her legs, now, and she could feel the weasel swallowing, strong, rippling tugs that sucked her in an inch at a time as he pushed forward. It was so tight inside him; it all seemed so impossible! He was hardly any larger than she. Digging her fingers into his muzzle, she curled her fingers at his eyes.
"Another mistake." The black, furry creature sighed, as Dellway grabbed for her hands, his paws on their short legs just able to reach. For just a second he pinned her wrists flat to her hips, and with an arch of his neck, pushed hard against the resistance that wide part of her offered. Shoulderblades to the desk now, Donna could only groan as her hands pushed past the stoat's lips, caught in his muzzle…and, an instant later, sliding down into the hot grip of his throat. She pulled, but she had no leverage at all now.
"You wouldn't think he could do it." Donna didn't even look at the pitiless black thing, her stare focused on the stoat, pushing against her with all his might. Thin, pink lips popped up over her hips, his cheeks so bulged out that his muzzle and head looked like a little ornament on the thick barrel of his neck. "But he is a terribly determined little thing."
Donna grimaced, almost in tears, as the fangs slowly scraped up her belly. She wouldn't give the terrible creatures the satisfaction, not even when she felt her feet pop into a looser space, the stoat's stomach without a doubt. With grim strength he pushed her against the desk, twitching his nose back and forth, gaping jaws pushing over her torso just a fraction at a time. His chest bulged with her hips, her legs slowly being forced to fold inside his slippery stomach. He was no larger than she, and still…
Dellway pushed with all his might, and with a tiny, muffled groan, his lips folded soft and tight around the woman's shoulders. She had been silent for minutes now, staring at him, blue eyes full of fear. Occasionally she would give a spastic wriggle, making his fur bulge and jump, but neither that nor the rare, pleading look she gave him changed the need to fill his belly. His muzzle began to resume its usual shape as her shoulders slipped inside, the meal so large he was almost a fursuit over her, skin and muscle and pelt stretched drum-tight.
The black thing watched as Donna's head was gradually forced up. Dellway had pulled back from the desk, no longer needing its backing to finish his meal, and had splayed all four paws wide, his muzzle turned up as he gulped with slow, powerful upward thrusts of his snout. Lips pulled in around the woman's cheeks, the stoat's grossly bulged torso rippling, and suddenly his muzzle shut. The shape of her head showed in a rounded bulge in his neck, and a plume of long, brown hair poked out past his lips. Closing his jaws hard, he rocked his body, moving in a sinuous ess as he used every muscle he had to force the massive meal down. The plume grew slowly shorter…
Donna finally let out a squeak, let a tear trail from her eye, but it was too late. All was dark and wet and slippery now, the throat tight around her cheeks. A strong, quick pulse beat at her from all sides, and flesh and bone creaked, the stoat twisting and turning as he stretched his body around her. Slowly, she was pushed down, the gullet squeezing her shoulders and neck, and the space around her legs stretched to let her in. She could feel the individual ribs, the bands of muscle beneath them, as the stoat swallowed heavily.
And, finally, the muscular ring she had felt first around her toes squeezed at her throat, slipping up over her cheeks; with a last gripping push, the throat shoved her down, and she felt the floor through the weasel's flesh and fur as she filled his stomach. It was hot, wet, tight; stretched more than she would ever have thought possible, squeezing her from all directions. Slow ripples traveled along the walls, almost like a massage, bathing her in slime that stung her bare calves, arms and face. There was just a breath of air left, and she took it; held it as long as she could; exhaled; and felt it pushed out by the tightness. In the hot dark, she relaxed.
The black thing smiled, in her own way, with an upward lift of long, white whiskers. The stoat lay on his side, writhing slowly, as he pushed his forepaws against the huge lump in his middle. Forced into fetal position, the woman's every curve was obvious, even the shape of her face. "I expect even a stoat's 'three hour' digestive system will need a bit of time to deal with all that, eh?"
Dellway groaned, belched briefly, then grinned, showing a fang as he relaxed contently. "Customer service…" He went silent, looking at the desk, and past it, the door.
Katie pushed the outer door, smiling at the jingle, and set the box from the fish and chips stand down on the umbrella stand as she opened the inner door. "Donna, are you sure you don't want…."
Her voice ground to a halt as she stepped past the desk. Donna's chair was on its back, and lying there behind the desk was that stoat…Dellway?…who called so often to complain around his internet connection. Blinking, she stared at the massive bulge in his midsection, like some sort of unhealthy swelling. Bemused, she noted the ridge of his sheath, the furry ballsac there at the bottom of the bulge…and, distracted, let out only a gasp as things went suddenly dark and wet.
The black creature flicked a whisker in surprise, and stopped where she was, inches behind the woman's knees. Dellway had leapt upward, his belly anchoring his hindparts firmly to the floor; his slender chest and head could move, though, and with a motion almost too fast to follow he sprang up, catching the woman's face in wide-open jaws. His forepaws grabbed beneath her armpits, and his weight tumbled her down, his hindpaws kicking at her feet as he gulped convulsively, neckfur stretching over the woman's head.
Katie let out a belated scream, and found the sound muffled to the tiniest squeak by the tight wet skin pressing around her face. Something pulled at her armpits, and something else scraped painfully between her shoulder blades as the wet heat slipped down over her neck. She thrust out her hands blindly, striking carpet and then fur, and kicked frantically, not sure what was happening and held strongly against the carpet.
The black thing watched, bemused, as Dellway's cheeks bulged out, the woman's shoulders sucked down into the ravenous little weasel's maw. Touching a claw to the name-plaque near her on the desk, she read the name. "Well, dear, I think Katie and Donna are the only customer service people here. I hope they are enough to sate you…."
Dellway didn't, couldn't reply. His forepaws hitched up under Katie's armpits, he tugged with all his might, fending off her kicks with strokes of his own hindpaws. Throat stretched wide by the first woman's passage to his belly, he curled in easily around this one, gulp after gulp flexing his throat and pulling her in. She struggled desperately, powerfully; but all he had to do was stretch his elastic form over her, like a devouring serpent, and then all her struggles would be for naught, as his stomach did its work. It took only a minute of effort, his jaws sliding to the small of her back, before he could roll up onto all fours again, and bolt her down.
Katie kicked and squirmed in the enveloping dark, feeling as though she were slipping on a too-tight bit of clothing; a dark, wet, hot suit, pulling at her to help itself over her. As her head was pulled down into the thing's body, she realized what was happening at last, and screamed loudly enough to be barely heard through the stoat's flesh. The little weasel, so unhappy with his connection, had come back to swallow her up. And Donna…her forehead bumped what had to be her, as the weasel's body rocked around her, quick, lunging gulps pushing her every deeper. Both eaten….
Dellway was on all fours, belly dragging the floor and long sleek torso bulged tight around the second woman. Lunging forward, then pulling slowly back, lunging again, he used the woman's weight to hold her still as his jaws darted forward. The black thing nodded approvingly as her hips squeezed into his jaws, thighs bolted inches at a time. With a gasp, the stoat gulped her knees from view, and he groaned muffledly, eyes squeezing shut as he struggled to swallow just a few more times.
The black creature waited, stroking a forepaw unconsciously down the stoat's furry tail. He lunged again, swallowing hard enough to send a ripple down his neck…and the calves stayed where they were, bulging from his jaws. Another lunge, another gulp…and she reached for him.
Dellway let out a barely audible chirp as the huge paws wrapped around him, curiously gentle atop the painfully taut swelling in his torso. He rolled his eyes toward her, expecting her wedge-shaped muzzle to turn, her jaws to open for the woman's feet, and for him. Too late to struggle, bloated as he was. He should have known.
The black thing gripped Dellway tight, and curled a paw over the heels of the protruding feet. With a slow, even pressure, she pulled inward, her other paws keeping the stoat stretched out with jaws straight forward. There was resistance, and the stoat groaned. Her paws loosened, slid over the tight swellings, massaged him as they pushed expertly here, there; and then, another tug, and the feet slid slowly toward the stoat's jaws.
Katie squirmed, feeling the push against her feet. Tried to kick, tried to wriggle, escape somehow. But all for nothing. She felt a new pressure, something pushing against her from outside, making her neck bend…and the tight ring around her forehead loosened, her head sliding past to press against Donna's back. Now the stoat swallowed, and again she moved, pulled inward by a powerful ripple in his gullet. Cool, air-conditioned air against her ankles….
The black thing pulled her paw away as the stoat's jaws snapped, gathering in the white tennis shoes, covering the tanned ankles, and at last, all that was left of Katie was a bulge in his cheeks, the swellings in the rest of him. Slowly, heavily he swallowed, and the bulge was gone from his cheeks, a shoelace sucking into the corner of his muzzle, gone as well. Gently, strongly she massaged his body, holding him firm in her paws, feeling the heavy lump work down his torso, watching his body shrink back to its normal size, neck, shoulders, then gradually his torso as well. It took several minutes of massaging, but eventually he lay panting, his bellyfur stretched like a drum over the immense lump of meat within.
"I didn't think you would take both." Softly she felt his belly, feeling the little quiver within, the second woman struggling in utter dark, utter tightness. And failing to escape, growing quiet. "It's not going to be easy to digest all that."
Dellway was silent, save for his panting, drool dripping from his lips. At first it had hurt, but a feeling of utter contentment was washing over him, his belly so very full, his anger discharged. Silent, he stared at her.
And she smiled, in her own way. Others might not know that whisker-lift, that curl of her chops, but he had known her for years now. "I'm not going to eat my favorite stoatie, no."
Dellway managed a chirping laugh, through his growing sleepiness. "You ate your favorite stoatie the last time you got ahold of him."
She nodded. "And I will again, one day. And the technology Athelind gave me will make you anew, as it did those other times. But…." She stroked the enormous swelling in his middle. "You have had such trouble with these; you deserve to sleep, and enjoy every minute you spend digesting them, passing them, coughing up their shoes and hair and clothing and whatever bones don't dissolve. I promised you I'd help."
Dellway smiled, as she righted the chair, picked up the purses, the lunch bags, straightened the phone on the desk. "And what about the manager?"
She flicked her whiskers, and gathered him up in her forepaws, grunting at his tripled mass. "Do you think I am not hungry now, after watching that? I would save him for you…but right now, it's him or you. Hold your breath, dear."
And she dropped through the floor with him, gone, leaving the office tidied. She would return after depositing him in his lair; hours later, a caller would arrive, curious about the business, and find no reception-clerks, no manager, no technician, an empty building save for the servers humming in the chilled room in back. Scratching his head, he'd shrug, and go.
And find another ISP to patronize; one with better customer service.

The End.