>>23869
Regarding the suddenness of her disemboweling, I agree with you there. I decided to add some more sections there, to take a more "scientific" approach to the whole thing.

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Rebecca allowed herself to relax. She just needed to get back to the pool tomorrow, and fixing herself would be a piece of cake. And besides, she’d learned something important—her body still wasn’t quite “normal.” She could still dismantle herself, albeit a bit more messily, without the direct influence of that mysterious water, apparently without any pain or harm. So, until then…

Emboldened, she went to her dresser, pulled open the top drawer, and retrieved some scissors from her arts-and-crafts supplies. Seeing as her body no longer came apart with ease, the cutting tool would be indispensable for further experimentation. After some thought, she grabbed some transparent tape as well, and inelegantly affixed her ear to the side of her head using a single strip. Next, she considered where to cut. She placed her index finger between the blades, but quickly realized that the scissors weren’t up to the task of cutting through her finger bones (the thought of cutting the joint made her cringe—she couldn’t help it, even now!). She let the scissors hover over various spots on her body, moving down her smooth chest and towards her navel. “Hmm… this is pretty soft,” she observed, pondering the location with some exploratory jabs. “I could cut here, but what would happen? It’s not the same as cutting something off… it’s more like opening myself up. Does the stuff inside still stay inside, just like how my ear didn’t bleed?”

Now somewhat eager to find out what would happen, she increased the pressure—but she soon recoiled. “Oof, my bellybutton is way too sensitive,” she said, rubbing her sore navel. Unfortunately, she had similar results no matter where she attempted to penetrate her squishy underside. “Maybe poking isn’t the way to do this.” She recalled that all previous “painless” detachments had involved ripping off a distinctive section of her body. As a quick test of this proposition, she leaned over to where her breast was lying, and swiftly snipped off her nipple. There was a pinch, and then an icy cold feeling that made her suck in her breath, but once she’d plucked the nipple from its perch atop her scissors, she felt nothing out of the ordinary, no lingering pain. Satisfied, she popped the nipple into her mouth (waste not, want not).

So Rebecca tried a different approach. She pinched the flesh on her belly, trying to extrude enough flesh that she could just snip it off. However, while not exactly toned, her abs were somewhat taut. After a few false starts slipping from her fingers, she found a section to the side of her bellybutton that could be pulled into a thin shelf of flesh if she hunched forward a bit.

She began to cut. Once the shelf she’d been gripping had been severed, she relaxed her hunched-over posture. The hole she’d made expanded to the shape of a sideways teardrop left of her navel, in correspondence with the loose flap of her belly she now gripped. The next part would be far easier; she just had to cut outward from this hole, keeping her scissors near the surface so as not to damage her insides. A horizontal slit was created across her belly, ending on either side where it became too hard to cut. “Guess that’ll have to do.” She set aside the scissors and explored her handiwork. With her thumb and forefinger, she tried parting the gap to get a better look. As her flesh parted, she felt it sliding against her insides, making her shudder. Then she could see it: her reddish, glistening, and pulsating digestive tract. She winced; the air seemed to cut her as it mingled with her reclusive organs.

Still, she widened the gap. A few centimeters more, and she felt something shift inside her. With a slippery sound, a loop of large intestine popped out of the slit, pushing it open. As she instinctively bent over to stem the tide, the pressure on her crowded organs pushed them further out of the gap, where they slithered down her belly and crotch, tickling the provisional skin there. She tried scooping them back into the hole, but she wasn’t comfortable with the amount of force she was exerting, and soon gave up. “Well, I guess that answers that,” she sighed. “So it’s just blood that magically stays put?” She glanced at her pussy lying on the bed. “Or maybe it’s fluids in general,” she speculated. “I guess that’s good, since apparently we’re mostly water anyway.” She turned her attention back to the more solid matter of her hanging entrails. “How did you ever fit inside me in the first place?” she huffed. This was like one of those 3D puzzles, where the pieces only fit together in one specific way—her strategy of bending the pieces to force them to fit hadn’t seemed like the right solution then, and it didn’t seem like a good idea now.