A good hour and a half had come and gone since Haley had eaten dinner, Brandon watching in humiliation as the once smaller and seemingly meeker teenageer casually consumed more food than he had ever seen in one place in his entire life. It had been a very surreal experience for the shrunken classmate, that had gone a long ways in putting everything into perspective for him. A perspective from the floor, lower than an insect. His entire world now was from the point of view of an ant, and each passing moment served to remind him just how insignificant, pathetic, and irrelevant he now was. All of the strength in his once modestly impressive body was barely enough to cause a tickle between a high school girl's sweaty toes, and the most minor of stomach gurgles or girlish burps was enough to knock him to the ground. The ground, of course, had been a vast, warm, plush cushion of stomach fat upon which Brandon was merely a speck.
   More than once he found his mind wandering towards terrible and horrible ends that only compounded upon the immediate dangers he was facing each and every minute he spent in the presence of the gargantuan Haley. She hadn't needed to taunt him with warnings about staying away from food, nor threatened him with the very real possibility of being swallowed up, alive, like a fleck of seasoning. He was very much aware of these quite plausible scenarios, and they had began to pick at his nerves before he'd even witnessed her shoveling thousands of tons of food into her cavernous maw.
  His humiliations never ceased, and he was beginning to grow increasingly terrified of the feeling that Haley would not get around to returning him to his normal size, even IF some horrible tragedy didn't befall him. If he had any backbone left after being thrown about by an after-dinner belch, he would have let his temper run away with him and lash out at the collossal, carefree classmate that had taken him captive, perhaps punching or kicking at whatever bit of her he could reach at the moment his patience finally gave way. But the simple thought of snapping at her, all 2 or 3 million lbs of fat, muscle, and bone that made up her statuesque body, now filled him with dread and an even greater sense of belittlement. Would she even notice a smack or kick to her toe to be amused at? Could she even recognize hostility from someone smaller than a bead of sweat or flake of dandruff?
  All around him came a tremendous, wet, gargling rumble, the fifteenth or sixteenth to send a lightning bolt of fear through Brandon's bones and heart, rousing him from his gloomy thoughts and reminding him where he now resided. With great amusement, Haley had 'carefully' pinched up the meager boy and stood to her full height after finishing her meal. Upon noticing in her mirror that her tummy had become exposed from the heaping meal she'd consumed, a mischievous thought entered her mind, and she rolled up the thin shirt enough to reveal the pit of her belly button, cautiously guiding the mortified Brandon into the fatty cave.
  To say that a teenage girl's belly button at the end of a long and hot school day was less than pleasant would be harsh understatement. The thick stench of sweat and grimey old skin, not unlike the toejam the miniscule teen had faced not long ago, was inescapable. Hardly any fresh air penetrated the cavern of pudge he had been tucked into. He was nestled, quite snugly, between a hair five times his length, halfway between curly and scraggly, a sandy blonde rope that Brandon could've made a noose out of were he so inclined, and a bluish-grey tuft of hot and faintly damp lint the size of a body pillow. Beneath and behind him in the nest of wrinkles were very fine, tiny pebble-sized grains of who knows what. Dirt, perhaps, clumps produced by the titanic teen's own body, or intruders from the outside world, (like himself, Brandon thought with mock-amusement) captured between the fleshy folds of the girl's navel and hidden here for who knows how long.
  Days? Weeks? YEARS, even? From the smell and debris surrounding him it was not hard to imagine Haley as a five or 6 year old girl, a toddler, laying on her stomach on a dirty carpet somewhere in this state-sized house, unknowingly collecting a piece of dirt in her pudgy little belly's button and carrying it to this very day. A thunderous gurgle sent tremors through the micro-teen's body, and he could almost sense a building-sized lump of mush shift somewhere through the intestinal labyrinth buried deeper in the girl's body, beyond the wall of chub behind him. 
  Just as he thought he was about to lose his mind and go running from the short tunnel of lard he'd been slipped into, suicidally diving from the gut of the giant girl and letting gravity decide his fat, the enormous finger returned, forcing the ceiling and floor fat to spread apart from the tiny portal out into the world. This created a dreadful suction around Haley's finger as she attempted to dig Brandon out without harming him, and he felt his ears pop quite painfully before her fingernail slid beneath him and both he, the ball of smelly, sweaty lint, and the hair (as well as a small layer of muck scraped out of the navel itself that unleashed a new wave of awful stinks that reminded Brandon of bad butter or cream cheese) were extracted from Haley's tummy.
  As he was brought out into the light he was able to see that the girl had finished readying herself for bed, now wearing an old, ratty, dark blue striped pair of boxers that had lost the elastic on on leg hole and hung loosely on her hips, and a light grey tank top that did little to conceal her blossoming breasts. His face went red as he saw through the hole in the crotch of the boxer shorts to a small patch of forested hairs that even from this distance he could tell matched the strand he'd spent the last dozen or so minutes against, and he looked up at Haley with the smallest glimmer of hope that he would now be restored and allowed to go on home. After all, if she were heading off to sleep, what possible entertainment could there be in keeping him any further?
   Instead she just held him up to her face and giggled softly, her warm breath, smelling slightly of peppermint toothpaste gushing over Brandon and forcing his hair back.
   "Looks like you've found yourself a little friend there, huh?" She sad, unable to stifle her laughter any further as she flicked away the wad of belly button lint that had been withdrawn alongside Brandon. She chuckled, shaking her finger and the miniaturized boy hard enough that he fell to his knees in her fingernail and clung to the print on her fingertip as the hair fell away and disappeared somewhere far below, near the soft, pink boulders that were Haley's toes.
   The laughter subsided a moment later, and she held her finger up to one humongous nostril, very gently smelling so as not to snort up the miniscule captive. She then lowered the finger once more, before her chest, and continued laughing as she moved towards her bed, sliding under the covers.
   "PHEW that's funky! I can't even imagine how icky my belly button must've smelled to you, puny!" She smirked mischievously as she settled against her numerous pillows, setting Brandon down on the hill of her left breast, pool-sized eyes focusing downwards on him with her almost predatory grin. "I guess in the morning we'll work out some kind of chore list for you, to definitely include swabbing out my belly button. Once you gather up all that gunk it'll make the perfect little bed for ya! Well...unless I roll over, then you'll probably get smashed into paste." She giggled even harder at the morbid thought, and Brandon could do nothing to prevent himself from rolling down the slope of her breast and sliding yet again down onto the gigantic, tubby field of Haley's stomach, in the darkness under the covers.