Revy Swallows a Rock

Commissioned by Malethor

Written by HarmonyMotion

“Unnnng, fuck. My fucking head…” Revy moaned as she woke up in a fog of alcohol fumes. She reached over to the bedside table, knocking over an empty shot glass and a mostly drained bottle of brown liquor as she reached for her signature dual pistols.

Having slept in her clothes, the New Yorker put on her holster and slid her guns into their slots. Despite the massive hangover, the movement was so practiced that even in her alcohol impaired state, she slid her fingers over the polished metal, checking that the safeties were in place before holstering them smoothly.

Then, realization hit her like a ton of bricks. Where was Rock? They’d had a stupid drunken fight… word on the street was that there was a hit placed on his head… dammit! She had to find him. Now!

Grabbing the resting bottle and taking a large swig of concentrated booze to refocus her mind, Revy swallowed loudly before popping a cigarette out and taking a long draw as she mentally prepared herself for a long day ahead.

First order of business: where the hell was Rock?

“Did you forget what I endured to get here?!” Rock hissed at Revy in a dim corner of the bar. “I’m not afraid of any hit!”

“So after all we’ve been through, you think you can just throw your life away?” Revy hissed back as she slammed her bottle on the table.

“I accepted my death long ago. It’s a miracle that I’m here now, and I’m not going to spend it locked away while being babysat by you!”

“Just because you don’t fucking care about your life doesn’t mean I shouldn’t!” Revy blurted in a moment of unguardedness. Then she recoiled at her honest admission.

“The hell do you know anyway? You’re drunk off your ass all the time, sometimes I wonder if you’re going to shoot me by accident! And you smell like shit!”

“You… you…” Revy recoiled at the vulnerability she’d unintentionally shown, only to be stabbed by Rock. “FINE! Go get yourself fucking killed! See if I care!”

“I will!”

Rock stomped off, well aware even in his impaired state of mind to know how stupid he was being. But in a bid to save face, he couldn’t just stop and turn around. He knew they’d be fine in the morning. He was the one who had given Revy back some semblance of her humanity, and they both knew it. He could apologize in the morning, and everything would be fine. He and Two Hands could continue their misadventures as normal.

He reached for his pack of smokes as he waved the nicotine and tar-filled air of the bar out of his face. Oh well. Maybe a breath of fresh Roanapuran air would do him some good before he filled his lungs with poison again.

As he stepped outside, a strange, supernatural glowing light greeted him. He covered his eyes and squinted as it washed over his body…

A frantic Rock scampered his way back into the bar. He had only taken three steps outside, but those three steps were when he was still at his original height. Retracing his steps from just two minutes ago felt like an olympic distance to run now!

It was an interesting sensation being so low to the floor. The smog of the industrial, unmodernized city floated above him. For once, he could breathe cool, relatively unpolluted air at the sea level of the lawless, corrupt Asian city. But that novel moment was quickly ruined by the fact that he realized that he was now staring at the underside of a sandal.

The cheap, floppy plastic was coming, and it was coming in fast! Rock sprinted and made a flying leap to roll out of the way before the patron from the bar could squash him into a pulp, like a splattered on a windshield.

Hunched and kneeling, Rock knew he had to get back to Revy. And quick. No way this was an accident. Fuck! After their stupid fight, for him to be proved wrong immediately, and in such an embarrassing way…

No. He could think about that later. It was true that he was ready to meet his fate, but Revy was right to call him selfish. If he wasn’t going to live for himself, then he could live for her.

Through the doorway, Rock had an unobstructed view of the bar. Revy had a sour look on her beautiful face as she staggered over, no doubt ordering another round for herself.

God, her legs were long. He already knew that, but to see them at his, what, one inch tall height, getting such a low angle to admire her battle-tested and trained legs was a sight he could admire forever. Those beautifully polished limbs with nary a trace on them, dressed in her signature ripped jean shorts that left almost nothing to the imagination.

He really needed to apologize to her. And then maybe they could have some unrequited love/hate sex.

First things first. He had to not die ignominiously under the heel of some nobody.

To his relief, a female with a familiar face was approaching him. And she was even… looking down at him? Acknowledging him? Why would she even know he was here?

Alarm bells were ringing in his head, but right now, he’d do anything to be out of this situation.

“Help! Hey, help!” he screamed as he jumped up and down, waving his arms.

“Well, well, well, if it isn’t Okajimu Rokuro…” she greeted him ominously as she approached, squatting down to regard him.

Rock stopped jumping. He was smart enough to instantly draw the correct conclusion.

“You… you shrunk me!?” he began to back off.

The bartender giggled. Rock turned and began to run as fast as his feet could carry him. Unfortunately for him, he had to slam the brakes as a large, heeled, black boot came stomping down right in front of him. He skidded on the rough, unpaved concrete before slamming straight into the bartender’s footwear.

She reached down to scoop him up in the palm of her hand.

“Wh… what are you going to do with me? Is this about the contract? If it is, just kill me already!” Rock confronted her bravely. He wasn’t about to beg or bargain for his life. He would go out with dignity.

“Please,” she scoffed, looking at Rock who had closed his eyes in acceptance. “You think I want the money? No, I want to see you suffer. You won’t die by my hands,” the bartender answered mysteriously.

“If it’s not about the money, and you’re not going to kill me, then what the fuck do you want!”

“I want to see you suffer,” she sneered. “Or, well, I won’t be able to see it. But just knowing will be enough.”

“You crazy bitch; what the fuck are you talking about?!” Rock sputtered. He clenched his fists and did… nothing. There was nothing he could do. He was so high above the ground now, the fall would probably shatter his legs. And what was he going to do, punch the palm of her hand?

Rock ground his teeth in frustration.

“So helpless!” the bartender cackled. “So pathetic.”

She began to close her fingers around him to shield him from view. Rock covered himself instinctively. The light from the flickering street lamp outside grew smaller and smaller, turning into total blackness when her fist was fully formed.

Not knowing what else to do, Rock jumped up for one of her fingers and grabbed it. He gnawed on it as hard as he could.

“Ow! Feels like a mosquito!” she grunted in annoyance at Rock’s useless struggles.

She closed her fist around him tighter, applying further pressure. Rock was completely immobilized, curled up into a ball in her slightly sweaty embrace. He tried to push up against her fingers with his arms and back while pushing as hard as he could with his legs, but it was to no avail. All he accomplished was to fill the non circulating air in her fleshy prison with his alcohol-soaked breath. Rock panted in exhaustion from his brief little rebellious attempt.

“Tsk tsk tsk,” he heard her click her tongue as if correcting a child.

He could do nothing but wait. What the fuck did this god damn bartender have planned for him?

“Hey, you’re back. Good. My turn to go on a smoke break. My legs are killing me.”

“Yeah, go for it. I got it here.”

Rock heard his captor speaking to someone else. Presumably another bartender she was relieving.

“Bartender!!! Another shot of whiskey!”

Now this voice Rock recognized. It was Revy! Whatever his captor’s plan was, she had badly miscalculated. Once Revy discovered that Rock was being held prisoner in her palm, she would have no qualms about killing her in front of the entire crowd, both pistols blazing. Then it would just be a matter of figuring out how to return to normal with Revy’s guardianship and assistance.

“Coming right up…”

Rock could hear his captor scooping ice into a shot glass. And then a long pour. How was she doing this with one hand? When the sound of running liquid ended, she gave him a crushing squeeze before swishing her palm over the open glass, treating him like some sort of muddled fruit! With a little sleight of hand, she dropped him deep into the brown liquid.

He landed into the drink with a loud “plop.” His head bobbed underneath as the powerful stuff invaded his nose, lighting his nostrils on fire. The bartender’s little push on the glass sent Rock smashing into the side of the glass, like waves crashing on shore.

“Revy! Re–” Rock tried to shout, but his voice was weak, drowning in foul, cheap liquor. Revy grabbed the glass and began to bring it up to her face.

He tried to catch her attention. Surely she must have noticed him by now. He could see the red, heated flush of alcohol in her cheeks. The unfocused pupils in her eyes. The heavy scent of intoxication on her breath as she brought the glass ever closer to her red lips…

Oh no.

“Revyyyy!!” he gurgled as she tipped the glass into her greedy mouth in one smooth stroke.

He tried to hang on for dear life. If he could just stay in her mouth, perhaps he could make enough noise to get her attention. Dance on her tongue or something. Without whiskey burning his lungs, he might actually be able to function.

But no, Revy was far too accomplished a drinker for that. She knocked her head back to completely vertical. No hesitation from this girl at all. From lip to throat, the entire drink—and Rock along with it—slid right down her gullet with no pause for vacation in her mouth.

He slid right into her pulsing, pressing esophagus.

Fuck. Fucking fuck. Just where the fuck was Rock? What had she done last night?

She traced her way back to the bar from one of her and Rock’s safehouses. The entire area was cordoned off with police tape. Two guards saw her approaching and half recoiled in fright while also being shocked out of their minds that she would just return to the scene. Revy had a reputation, but to do something as brazen as this!?

“You!” she shouted as she advanced on the retreating guards. “What the hell happened last night?!”

“You don’t know?!” one guard asked in amazement.

“She doesn’t fucking know!” the other hissed.

“What the fuck don’t I know! Tell me!” Revy’s full stomach gurgled as the liquor sloshed inside.

“You killed a bartender in cold blood! And shot another civilian for no reason!”

“Heh. Sounds like me. So what’s new?”

“What’s new!? What the fuck else do you want to know?”

She peeked inside the bar to see the outline of a dead body. The broken bottles of liquor on the shelf behind where that body stood. An empty spot on the display where no broken glass lay—that was the bottle she’d taken for the road after her little loose cannon demonstration.

Some fragments were coming to her foggy memory…

“So, you’re Two Hands, huh?” the bartender asked, looking at Revy’s prominently displayed holsters.

“What of it?” she responded belligerently, slamming the shot glass back on the table.

The bartender’s gaze looked back at the glass, filled now only with ice cubes. She’d barely seen Rock go into Revy’s mouth, but the deed had been done.

“I hear there’s a big bounty on Rokaru,” the bartender smiled knowingly, looking intently as Revy wiped the excess fluid off of her sloppy lips with the back of her hand.

“Yeah, you’re real smart, huh? Nobody’s getting to Rock without going through me first. Give me another,” she shoved the glass back.

“Nobody’s getting to… Rock without… going…” the bartender couldn’t contain her laughter. She couldn’t have phrased it any better herself.

“The fuck is so funny?!” Revy could sense something was wrong. Had the bartender spiked her drink? “What the fuck did you give me! If you poisoned me…”

The bartender bent over in redoubled laughter, gripping her belly and heaving for air.

“You traitorous piece of shit!”

Revy’s reputation was well earned. She didn’t wait to blast the bartender right through the head. And then once again for good measure.

The bullets caught some of the bottles on the shelf, shattering them and making a mess. Someone approached her with bad intent in his eyes, and Revy put both guns on him and shot him dead as well.

Grabbing an unbroken bottle, she took a deep swig. Liquor had fueled her her whole life; surely this would detox whatever the fuck this so-called bartender had given her.

The entire bar was screaming and running now. Revy swiveled on her heels and felt a slight regurgitation welling inside of her. The bartender had definitely given her something strange. She wobbled unsteadily for the door.

She had to find Rock. Quickly.

Rock was being squeezed by Revy’s foul digestive tract. Oh god, if he ever complained about how she smelled after a night of binging liquor (which happened every other night), it was nothing compared to what it was like in here! Even the polluted air of Roanapur didn’t compare to this!

At least in Roanapur, he had grown accustomed to the factories billowing large plumes of black smoke into the air. The acidic rain. The smell of burnt cigarettes. In here, he could feel his brain cells dying from the alcoholic fumes alone. And to remind him that it could always get worse, Revy’s esophageal tube squeezed him hard enough to elicit a loud scream out of him before another downpour of whiskey threatened to drown him.

Fuck!

That alcohol served as lubrication as Revy’s practiced shot-gulping sent him sliding down her digestive tract without any friction at all. He was almost impressed with how good she was at killing herself with booze.

His eyes were stinging, so he couldn’t even witness his own descent into the horrifying abyss. But perhaps that was for the best.

Rock felt himself crash into a firm yet cushioning flap of humid, sticky flesh as he continued to get baptized by whiskey. It squished under his fingers and body like some sort of eldritch horror, absorbing his weight as he tried to stand up. He slipped and fell back down, catching a mouthful of saliva and booze, sputtering in disgust. His hair was drenched and dripping down his face.

On all fours now and sinking further and further into this mysterious spongy surface, Rock scrambled once more to get to his feet. And in that moment, her sphincter opened up and down he went into Revy’s stomach.

Amazingly, he didn’t have far to fall. It was almost like taking a short jump into a swimming pool. A fetid, swampy, pool of firewater.

He gagged and choked as she spent the rest of his stamina treading in Revy’s internal aqua vitae. Years of breathing in the Thai city’s air and further contaminating her own body with her non-stop chain smoking probably resulted in this… oppressive hell. Forget what Revy’s lungs probably looked like. Her stomach was… it was…

Burnt tar, the smell of nicotine, other toxic pollutants, alcohol fumes mixed with her overworked liver spewing bile into her disgusting stomach. Every breath seemed to leave solid black gunk inside Rock’s nose. It was like a little vicious microcosm of Roanapur, drowning and washing over its citizens daily, infecting and wearing them down. But this wasn’t just some literature waxing poetic. This was hyperbole made real.

The irregular, dark walls of her digestive organ swirled and pulsed as it tried to process the poison that Revy ingested daily. Layers of gray, pink, and dark red flesh gurgled and churned like some sort of horrible monstrosity reserved for scaring children in their nightmares. They flapped against each other, sloshing along the vile stew and making sick, wet, flesh-smacking noises, like some sort of soulless machine. Unthinking, uncaring, designed only for one thing.

Which was exactly what it was.

The hopelessness of the situation finally washed over Rock in a wave of realization—accompanied by a wave of Revy’s vile chyme. His strength was fading as he tried to stay above water, only to have a large, horrendous black patch of mysterious mossy and marshmallowy thing fall from the gray ashen stalactite at the ceiling of her stomach collapse right on his head and drive him under once more.

He climbed back onto the rank, unidentifiable flotsam living in her insides. What the fuck was this shit!? It was a reprieve to his aching muscles and his burning lungs, but the rank stench was unbearable! His hands were covered in the stuff now, stained permanently black. It was glued to his fingers, the webbing between them, and coated all over his palms. Smearing it over his button-down shirt did nothing but to exhume the foul stench even more intensely to his abused sense of smell.

Rock gagged and threw up. The taste of his regurgitation was actually a welcome reprieve to the hell that was Revy’s stomach. If he could see his own tongue, he would know that it was just as black and tarnished as Revy’s inner workings.

He paddled around with his dirty hands in the pool of mostly alcohol, sobbing and flailing helplessly. He threw up again as he got closer and closer to the lining of Revy’s blackened stomach, its mildewed smell unbearable. His eyes stung from the atmosphere. His arms ached, his own stomach was revolting, and his soul was being battered into tiny little bits.

The closer he got, the foggier and bog-like it became. Something about the solids that had accumulated on her flesh mixing with the liquor—Revy’s primary diet—made some sort of truly unique, vile concoction. Just wading through the dense mist through his improvised canoe was poison in his eyes and lungs.

Still, he swam through the murky swamp. To his shock, the grime on his hands was clearing away... but only because of how toxic and polluted Revy’s sinful living created. When he was finally able to wipe the ash and tar off by rubbing it against his shirt, he discovered that his clothing had disintegrated into rags. The soggy strips of cloth fell right off his body.

His entire body felt fuzzy. The pond of polluted scum he was sailing across chewed at his skin, discoloring his hands in uneven patches. His arms were meeting a similar fate. Anything with prolonged contact with Revy’s digestive juice and whiskey cocktail began to wither away. It was like being trapped in a witch’s cauldron. An acidic, evil brew, meant to dissolve children and place death curses and hexes on unsuspecting victims—that’s what he had become. He was an ingredient in Revy’s potion of unspeakable vileness.

But Rock found that he could tolerate this. No, tolerate was the wrong word. The bubbling water splashing over him didn’t feel so bad. In fact, it was slightly pleasant. He could fall in love with this.

But not the stench. The heavy, oppressive, polluted air. And what was he to eat!?

His eyes were still squeezed shut as he sailed through the smog of her stomach. He finally bumped into something fleshy. It groaned and growled at him as its folds of flesh slapped against each other, reverberating through the entire lumpy, ugly cavern.

Rock sucked in a deep breath as he prepared to exert himself physically, which was a mistake. Revy’s polluted and abused internals flooded his lungs once again, and he found himself retching and heaving. Before the life-draining fog could suck all of his power away, he started punching and kicking at her digestive walls.

He hoped it would get Revy’s attention somehow. Maybe induce vomiting. Though, looking at the fetid roiling pool around her, it seemed like nothing to get her to regurgitate. He weakly slapped at her stomach walls again, starting to give up hope.

But her stomach had a different idea. It sank from his punch and wrapped around his entire deteriorating arm, sucking him in and not letting go! The flesh slurped loudly as it pumped and squeezed him, pulling him closer with every grotesque movement.

He tried to get himself free by pressing into Revy’s walls with his other hand, but it met a similar fate to the first. His naked body was being melded to her flesh with every hideous hump!

Her rolls of meat were grinding against the front of his body now. His face, his chest, his hips and groin... all being sucked in, thick globules of dripping acid splashing and massaging all over him. His skin felt slightly furry as her juices ate away at him, just like his teeth if they were exposed to too many tannins. He screamed at the unpleasant sensation, only to get a mouthful of grainy chime followed by a chaser of whiskey and saliva.

Even as he gagged, her walls continued to absorb him, welcoming every single inch of him to become a part of her. As if he had any choice. They throbbed and pulsed over his tingling nipples and his exposed cock.

The fuzzy sensations were being applied directly to his member now. The acids chewed away at his shaft, painful, burning, and yet somehow... arousing. As it began to straighten out, offering more surface area for Revy’s inner machinations to suck, to splash, to consume, her stomach walls began to pump him furiously like a lover desperate for his cum. The acids provided a harsh lubricant for his sensitive cock, forcing him to engorge to his absolute fullest.

Rock tried to suppress a groan as he was being raped against his will. By her disgusting flesh! How could he get aroused in a desperate time such as this!?

But as her walls continued to suck him in, absorbing his flesh and soul, he couldn’t help but moan. As penance, he extended his tongue and voluntarily licked Revy’s stomach, thanking her for giving him the greatest pleasure of his life. For giving him a chance to be truly a part of her, an intimate experience that he’d never imagined he could ever experience.

And then he began to swirl around the outer wall, tracing a glistening trail of precum with his leaking member as he circumnavigated her insides. What was happening!? Why was there a funnel forming in her stomach, and why was he caught at the upper lip of it, spinning wildly and out of control!?

Finally, he understood. He was being flushed into her small intestine!

Revy barged into a small convenience store and grabbed some tomato juice, hot sauce, a stick of celery, and some aspirin. She paid for everything with a sloppy fistful of currency before putting together her sober juice right there on the counter. Adding a generous pinch of salt, she pinched her nose and downed the whole viscous red drink, chomping into the raw celery stick afterward.

Then she began her methodical search of the city, pressing her body to the limit. She had to find Rock!

Rock screamed in existential fear as he began what he assumed would be the final trip through the abyss that was Revy’s bowels. The smog and polluted air in her stomach was far preferable to where he now found himself—entrapped and enfolded in the tight squeeze of Revy’s small intestines.

There was no fog to sail through, no ocean to explore, no semblance of freedom anymore. All there was now was tight, crushing, constricting force.

He could hear Revy’s heart beat pumping rapidly. She was physically exerting herself, seemingly sprinting from one location to the next. Every brief segmented run was an exquisite torture, her contorting body tumbling him around, dizzying him until he no longer knew which way was up and which was down in the midst of her sea of flesh.

And just when he thought it couldn’t get any worse, when the pressure was at its highest when he thought he would suffocate to death in her tainted blight with his nose and mouth completely squashed and his bones creaking under the weight of her digestion, he felt himself violated.

Anally.

Those small villi on her pink walls came to life, stroking every single micrometer of his body. They caressed his cheeks and ruffled his sopping hair, twisted and pulled at his limbs.

He recoiled in horror as their slimy tendrils slid up his nostrils and invaded his mouth, greeting him with a scent and taste fouler than he could ever have imagined.

And then they gripped his limbs and unfurled him from his tight little balled up position, yanking his limbs apart as if he were in a torture rack before inserting themselves into his gaping anus.

There he stayed, helpless to struggle as Revy unconsciously invaded and pleasured him, stroking and pressing against his G-spot. He couldn’t believe both the pain and ecstasy as her cilia taught him a lesson in his sexuality, smashing his sensitive bundle of nerves.

Meanwhile, his erection was back to life, burning with a fiery need he’d never known. Revy’s villi took special care to wrap itself tightly around him, encircling him and pumping him while attempting to digest him. As his precum added to the already provided lubrication of Revy’s digestive enzymes, her tendrils pried into his slit and began to massage him in tandem with the minute tentacles already plugged up his anus.

She provoked him into an endless spiral of climactic ecstasy, spurting rope after rope of cum from his turgid tip, forced to ejaculate beyond his physical power until either a miracle would save him, or he would just become Revy’s nutrition.

As his brain released the wonderful endorphins of sexual ecstasy, he mentallly thanked Revy for looking after him in the short time that he knew her...