Molly grumbled to herself as she shoved another fistful of sandwich into her asshole. If assholes could grin, you’d be smiling from ear to ear. The peanut butter and jelly coated your insides, tasting delicious as your shared colon went into contractions to pull the food up towards your stomach.
She licked her fingers defiantly. This wasn’t supposed to be this way, there had to be some kind of mistake! How was that even possible, the process should’ve been perfect! But no matter how hard she pleaded, the clinic insisted she that the change was permenant. That was the rule. So the two were stuck like this. Something, somehow, had gone horribly wrong with the merging process, causing Molly’s digestive system to become flipped. Instead of becoming a living waste disposal, you now served as a receptacle for solid food. She had to drink liquids through her urethra, while her mouth took on the unfortunate role of dispensing both urine and feces. It had been two weeks and so far you were enjoying every minute of being Molly’s new mouth. Molly, meanwhile, spent nearly every waking moment dreading the next time she’d have to bend over the toilet, feeling a fat log fill her throat before it slid across her tongue, followed by a shower of piss pouring out of her mouth. The thought made her want to throw up, though being repositioned meant she felt that stirring lower down, only reminding her of her situation. She wanted to cry, almost tempted to just starve herself to keep from having to deal with the consequences of everything she ate. She had taken to purposely choosing foods and drinks that would be the least foul-tasting on the other end, not really caring a lot about the flavor, since she couldn’t taste it on the way in anyways. Why oh why did she ever agree to this?
As she finished her sandwich, she went off to find the biggest phallic object she could find. This had become routine, pounding her own asshole into submission as punishment, as even though it hurt her, it must’ve felt even worse for her body mate. Right? She’d never know. Her asshole, being what it was, could only make annoying farting noises at its leisure. At least it couldn’t talk back to her. To gloat. That was one small comfort in her now shitty upside down life.