Everyone in this story is 18+. It contains EXTREME dubiously consensual object insertions and a cartoonish representation of female anatomy.
Midnight
A blonde girl in the remnants of a torn black dress is leaning against the last car in the parking lot, her shaking legs doing their best to keep her steady until her shaking fingers work out how to fit a key in a hole, legs that are spread wide as if to better anchor herself to the ground. Having never felt lighter nor emptier in her life, the small Camille has been struck with an irrational fear of floating away since she got up from her theater seat. None of her two hundred coworkers who attended the free movie night with her in the VIP auditorium waited or offered any assistance.
At the same time as the lock clicks, a Mountain Dew can falls out of the bottom of her dress and sticks the landing on the asphalt with a clang. Panic flashes on Camille’s face for a brief moment. Did I forget someone? “No wait,” she sighs. “That’s probably mine.” She had been too busy giving out drinks like an inverted PEZ dispenser during the movie to worry about her own thirst. Well, she deserves it now; anything to fill her yawning bowels.
After collapsing in the driver’s seat, Camille makes the effort to stretch her arm and grab the anally ejected can on the painted line. After wiping the lid carefully with her skirt, she pulls the tab, ignores the dripping foam, and takes a deep sip. “Bleh... Nothing worse than warm Mountain Dew.”
10:08 PM
“Come on, Camille,” Paul yelled with a hushed voice to not distract his coworkers in neighboring chairs. “The movie is halfway done and some people haven’t gotten their drinks yet. No one’s complained so far but the drinks aren’t getting any colder inside there, either.”
Camille estimated there were something like ten cans left in various stages of her digestive system. This number was based on the concentration of sore spots in her abdomen and some still-visible cylindrical bulges protruding from her usually flat belly. It had been much harder to push out straddlers now that she couldn’t rely on the cramped pressure of hundreds of fizzy bombs crowding her guts.
“They’re stuck really high,” Camille whispered, cheeks wet with tears from the last torturous hour of pushing and clenching. Manually displacing the bulges without a sense of bowel direction created a lot more wincing than progress in the last twenty minutes.
“Let me check in there.”
“I’ll manage eventually, just give me a few more...” Camille tried to reply quickly, but Ryan was already on his knees, right sleeve rolled, shoving his hand between the girl’s spread legs and into her smooth but sore pussy. “Not... there!”
Too late. Ryan’s hand was deep up her canal slacked by the birth of four dozen cans. She had squeezed the last one out of her womb ten minutes ago and her birth canal was just starting to get adjusted to the absence of cold metal distention. Now a hand even thicker than a can was rummaging in her uterus like reaching for the last crumbs in a Pringles can.
“It’s empty,” Ryan said, digging deeper into the womb.
“I... emptied... that one...” Camille could barely talk about her cunt hole through her clenched teeth.
“Oh wait, I do feel one more in there but it’s across the membrane or whatever. I can probably push it from here.”
“Let me help.” That was Paul. His arms were even thicker than Ryan’s, and he took it upon himself to go elbow-deep in both holes.
It wasn’t pleasant for Camille, but with two hands manipulating intestinal cans from the womb and one set of fingernails ready to catch the rims once a soda reached the descending colon, the social committee managed to get to all of them (or so they thought) before the movie ended.
The evening was a big success despite the last-minute panic over minor issues. The next day, a survey would inform the social committee that employees enjoyed every aspect of the activity including the cans smuggled inside of a pretty coworker’s body.
“A staple of any future activity,” Paul had declared after reading the results.
“But 2-liters would be more economical,” added Ryan.
9:05 PM
The trailers had started but the lights hadn’t been dimmed yet. Nevertheless, Paul and Ryan sitting on her left and right insisted Camille start birthing the drinks. Most of the row in front of hers thought that Camille’s open legs and lack of panties were more entertaining than whatever was coming soon to a theater near them. She recognized a few of the turned heads, one of them the head of Human Resources. So much for complaining about the way she was used as a living cooler... or warmer.
As humiliating as it was to eject various canned drinks out of her holes in front of an audience, Camille was desperate to alleviate some of the pressure in her guts and womb so packed with cans that her slim physique was a lumpy mess under her tight dress that had ripped up an improvised cleavage right down to her belly button when she sat. The theater staff must have bought the limping preggo act. Or perhaps a much more depressing alternative was they couldn’t care less about people smuggling drinks.
Camille’s anus and vaginal entrance were already red dilated circles around a silver cap like she was double-stuffed with coiled, 15-foot-long dildos of a girth far beyond human specifications. With the hushed moans of a woman giving birth in a library, Camille relaxed her sphincters and a large batch of cans erupted out of her tender holes.
“Slow down, Camille. Clench. Clench! Jesus. One at a time.”
Against every instinct except blind obedience, Camille clenched her holes as hard as her armrests while Paul and Ryan gathered the fallen cans and made sure the ones that rolled away had found an owner.
Wet plops and a variety of her own moans were all that Camille remembered of the movie. The screen was blurred by tears. The physical and mental labor of prolonged Kegels made her unable to focus on anything else but the seemingly infinite string of cans that didn’t feel much better coming out than they did going it.
8:47 PM
“Hurry up, Camille. You’ll look suspicious if you fall behind,” Paul said before giving up on holding the door for his shambling coworker. She wasn’t the kind of girl to shout ‘well you try to walk normally when twice your body weight is sloshing inside you!’ so she didn’t. Camille just bit her lip to lower the volume of her moans as she took another harrowing parking lot step toward the theater. The company would appreciate later how much effort she put into trying not to shake the cans too much... if she made it past the ticket taker. Would anyone believe that a woman nine months pregnant (with two hundred aluminum babies) would decide to wear a sexy dress bursting at the seams over a belly so heavy she needed to use her arms to carry it forward?
5:15 PM
“Your dress is going to make this easier but you still need to take off your panties.”
Camille had argued that surely there was a better way, but had failed to come up with a solution that wasn’t immediately shut down by Paul or Ryan, who seemed to have their hearts set on shoving cans up her holes.
She was shaking like a nervous virgin as she carefully peeled her panties off her butt in the middle of the cafeteria. There was a handful of people other than the social committee there, chatting about what they expected of the movie tonight before heading home for a couple of hours. She would have rather not done the deed in a public place, but as Ryan and Paul kept reminding her: the cafeteria was where the drinks were so... She was careful not to let anyone see her bare innie slit through the slit of her dress as she slipped the panties off her ankles, but her carefulness didn’t matter once Paul and Ryan lied her down on one of the diner tables and hiked her skirt past the belly button. The cafeteria went quiet real fast but no one was eager to leave. You know it’s an embarrassing moment when you close your eyes and try to imagine yourself at the gynecologist during a particularly invasive procedure.
“Hmm, that’s a really tight pussy; it’s going to have to stretch a whole lot. But if we can fit one, we can probably fit a bunch. It’s pretty malleable,” Paul said, running circles with two fingers at the entrance of Camille’s vagina. The girl was fighting the urge to close her legs with every fiber of her being.
“What about the other hole?” Ryan asked.
Paul’s two fingers, imbibed with pussy juices, poked Camille’s one-way entrance, which had never been experimented with until today. He quickly shoved all six knuckles as deep as possible and tested the stretching capability of her rim as she stifled squeals of embarrassment. “Just as tight. Maybe even tighter.”
“Good thing you have two strong guys with you to make it all fit, huh Camille?”
Eyes shut tight, Camille nodded to whatever it was that Ryan said. She could only hear the steady high-pitch whine coming out of her nose.
“Ah! They’re ice cold.” The bottom rim of the first can touched Camille’s vulva and made her snap her legs on it. The icy injection on her inner thighs shocked her into opening them again.
“Yeah, I moved them to the freezer right after the meeting. They’re going to be 98 degrees for a couple hours. Gotta give them a chance to not completely warm up until the movie. Can you suck it up, please. We have two hundred of those to shove in and if we can’t do this before nine, it’s all going to be for nothing.”
Please don’t let this be for nothing, Camille repeated to herself like a mantra while her face contorted from the freezing and distention of her most sensitive areas. Her small body objected to every new can pushing the growing metal snakes deeper inside her colon and birth canal. When the snakes had nowhere else to go but through the tight gates of her womb and small intestine, it was indeed a ‘good’ thing that she had two strong guys helping her.
When the narrow passages were breached, Camille threw her head back in a silent scream to the great fascination of the growing cafeteria crowd.
1:38 PM
“Crap. We didn’t budget anything for the drinks. People are going to want drinks. And the popcorn we’re getting is just going to make them thirstier.”
“The cafeteria fridge is full of drinks. Can’t we just smuggle them in? I do that all the time at the movies.”
“But it only takes one person to get caught, and then they’re gonna check all of our bags and find out we’re all smuggling. They’ll probably kick us out of the theater and maybe even sue the company.”
“What if a member of the social committee carries them all? If she gets caught, nobody else takes the fall.”
“She?” Camille was normally too shy to insert herself into Ryan and Paul’s debates, satisfied with just clattering the committee’s minutes on her laptop. But, being the only girl in the room, she couldn’t help but feel targeted in some not-immediately-obvious way. “I can put a few in my purse, but I have no idea where the rest would go...”
6:45 AM
She spent too much time debating whether to wear her one-and-only black dress to work today, and it had cost Camille her breakfast. The skirt was a bit short and the waist too form-fitting. Though there wasn’t any cleavage, the dress did highlight the shape and size of her breasts. On the other hand, being involved in movie night as part of the social committee might mean she would not have time to swing by her apartment to change. She had a feeling tonight would be memorable and ultimately chose the sexy dress. As she stepped into her car, Camille made a mental note of reminding Paul and Ryan at the meeting today that they had forgotten to budget some drinks. She was confident the two loud-mouth go-getters would find a solution.