Indulgence

By Supernova

A commissioned work for Ravq (https://twitter.com/ravq42)

Character "Kazumi" by Carline Drivolt (https://linktr.ee/carolinedrivolt)

Musty wind fills my lungs with an abrupt gust, my eyes open to a blurred world of flatness and shimmering wood. Gasping, I instinctively cover my nudity upon the cold ground in a reflexive curl. Low droning thrums through my brain while I arch my neck upwards, feeling my long, black hair cascade down my bare back, strands caught on the clammy surface. Hearing my own heartbeat pounding within my ears, it gives way to a subtle din of voices tinged with concern. Placing both my palms upon the flat ground with two distinct plops, I scan my new environment, still delirious from being ripped out of unconsciousness with zero ceremony.

Swelling nervousness bursts through my chest. An inkling to scream is suppressed within my throat, leading to nothing but a horrified swallow. A wooden cityscape stretches all around me in a blur, my mind in too alien a position to truly comprehend my situation. Straight angles extending into what should be the sky. It's as if looking at an optical illusion, all of the shapes seem vaguely familiar, but they are too blurry and too awkwardly placed for me to parse. I lick my lips, experiencing a painful dryness course through my throat. An electric tension rips through me while I jump in surprise at a nearby scream. My visage shoots back to what's unfolding before me. I attempt to suppress a heave, looking upon a field of naked bodies randomly scattered across a perfectly level wood-grained field. Ripped from a tired confusion to a vulnerable terror, I can't help but curl up, covering my bare breasts, feeling my nipples harden against my forearm.

With zero idea where I am, nor who any of the other figures are, I run my fingernails along the side of my torso, the distinct, almost-painful scratches screaming at me that I'm not dreaming. This is real. My jaw now relentlessly bouncing, my skin developing a sticky clamminess to it, I find myself unable to grasp my position. Swirls of relentless, almost violent confusion swirl through me. Squinting my eyes shut, I curl up even further, running my fingers through my hair and balling them into fists. The curled strands fill up the gaps between my pale digits while my mind feels like I'm swirling. Drowning in a sense of desperate anxiety, I attempt to gain a firmer grasp on the situation I find myself in. Through a quivering blubber, I whisper to myself "I'm… I'm Dahlia. I'm fr-from C-Cambridge, M-Massach-", but the words have trouble leaving my lips. With no idea how I woke up in this position, I feel almost grateful I can remember my own name.

Shaking my head back and forth, jumping in shock, trying to suppress the growing noise of the crowd around me, I attempt to trace my steps to figure out how I managed to wake up in this position. My forehead now placed against the immense, whorling grain of the wooden floor below, I cover my ears to muffle the sounds of another woman screaming something like "Oh my God, where are we?" Remembering my outfit last night, a revealing red dress with a plunging neckline, I experience flashes of a party I was attending. The night was still young and I was handling a bottle of embarrassingly sweet alcohol, the mood was exciting and fun. Squeezing my eyelids together, feeling the subtle sting of exertion, the image of a beautiful woman with a pixie-like haircut flashed into my memory. I remembered her crashing far later than everyone else, waltzing in as if she were invited, carrying a certain, anxiety-inducing mystique about her.

Still in a confused haze, I crawl forwards, scanning the field of equally confused, equally naked figures, waking up one by one with a surprised gasp. An electric tension holds fast over the group, a near-silent empathy made apparent as the dozens of bodies all remain nearly motionless, letting out only light gasps and barely-audible questions. My eyes continue their instinctive scan, locking in upon my closest neighbor, a tan-skinned man with short, cropped hair struggling to sit upright. My left hand slowly peels from the wooden ground, the darkened patterning of the floorboard stubbornly sticking to my panicked sweat, as I begin to reach for his left shoulder. In the midst of this, I feel a low thrum conduct through the floor, as though something large and distant were dropped upon the ground. My lips purse while the hair stands on-end on the back of my head. It's as though a primal piece of my mind understands the type of danger I'm in, the same impulse that causes rats to flee a ship far before it sinks. Crawling closer towards the man before me, I feel a second, closer thump travel through the floorboard, echoing in my chest like the thunder of a distant storm. I shake my head, trying to disregard what feels, instinctively, like an imminent threat. Beads of sweat trickle down the sides of my face while I see the man begin to turn towards me. His face is twisted into an expression of bewildered horror, his eyes sunken, his cheeks dipping inwards, like his facial muscles have completely slackened. 

"H-hello?" I ask, reaching out towards him. My voice feels unfamiliar, jittery and dry. "Do you kn-know what's going o-"

Another loud thump echoes through the room, loud enough for every figure to react in unison. Arching heads and confused expressions upon the vast flooring looking like a mutant cabbage patch of delirium. I shoot my gaze behind me, feeling my sweat-heavy hair whip over my shoulder, facing the apparent direction of the thumping. A thin cord of saliva chokes me after it worms its way down my trachea. Coughing, I trace the patterning of lines extending into the pallid sky, my eyelids twitching in stress, while the pangs of realization begin to strike me. My brain isn't accustomed to perceiving man made shapes of this scope, sending me into a near panic upon realization that I'm staring at something as simple as a bedroom door. I tilt my neck in confusion, my heart now drumming against the inside of my ribcage in a rhythm so fast it feels uneven, while a sense of violation begins to seep into my innermost core. The door I'm facing is hundreds of feet tall, a height and width of such flatness it looks as though it's balancing precariously, ready to fall down upon us like an avalanche. I don't know whether to run towards it or away from it, my confusion is absolute. 

The sight of the door brings everything else into context, as though realization were spilling from it. Looking down at my own skin, I can't help but experience a sense of staining, as though something has been done to me. Made small with these dozens of other victims for reasons unknown, squirming upon a vast hardwood floor in the bedroom of a stranger. My blood runs cold, turning my head around to see the underside of a nightstand neatly placed next to a well-made queen-sized bed. Attempting to parse the astronomical scales that extend in every direction, my head turns to the only familiar figure within reach.

His tan skin looks several shades lighter than it had just moments ago while his face, even more aghast, stares upon the very same door that shocked me into realization. I wanted to repeat my question "What's going on?", but I knew it'd be moot. No one knows what's going on, nor why we are all naked, nor how we are now trapped in a new and horrifyingly tiny size. From comparison, it seemed as though we were each less than a half-centimeter in height. The texture of the air hung heavy over me, as though the humid wind were thicker than it should be. Another thunderous vibration shook us all at once, causing a few standing stragglers to fall over.

Attempting to stand, I widen my stance, experiencing another distinct crash upon the ground, conducting a penetrating vibration into my skin. The man next to me stays put while I place my hand upon his shoulder. I don't know if the contact was more for me or him, but something within my soul needed it, a slight comfort in the face of an endlessly confusing scenario. Another thump and I feel an envelopment around that hand. The man, whose name I don't know and whose face I don't recognize, squeezes my palm in a terrified embrace. I don't feel threatened by him, I feel almost a sense of solidarity, as though we are both going through this together. I see sweat cascade down his high cheekbones. His normally tough-looking exterior betraying an undeniable sense of vulnerability and fear. I can't help but empathize with him. I squeeze back, letting the stranger know that we are both in this situation together.

Another thumping crash. "It sounds like… like a footstep? It's coming towards us." The man's voice is deep and smooth, a static tone that reveals a sense of desperation. A loud, metallic clicking sound echoes off of the walls while the sounds of the dozens of other tiny people begin to develop into a more panicked, actively terrified cacophony. Grunts, shrieks, pleas, and teary-eyed bleating fills the air while the bronze doorknob flashes warped reflections in a slow, deliberate twist. I feel every single muscle upon my body grip into a brutal, constricted tension while staring at something as mundane as a bedroom door.

In a single silent swing, all of us stare in awe. I had never in my life seen something so immense move so quickly. A stunning swoosh of the portal opening, shifting the reality of all who look upon it. My naked skin grows goosebumps, feeling a strangely gentle breeze blow upon me, smelling of cherry blossom perfume. I can't help but squeeze the stranger's hand next to me while he returns the reflex. Both of us gawking upon an endlessly tall human body where a pale white mountainside once stood in steadfast stability.

Time slows down to a brutally slow pace while I leer upon the figure now changing the conception of who I am. All fifty-or-so of us, sharing a position of unique vulnerability, stare at a leather-clad woman with a confident, almost cocky posture daintily carrying a clear glass bowl in a set of black-gloved hands. I can't help but experience an uncanny sense of being stunned into submission, gazing upon her knee-height black boots, looking like threatening monoliths near the lower portion of the doorframe. My eyes scan upwards, taking in the sight of her black pantyhose before it hides up her matching leather miniskirt, which hugs her curvaceous hips so tightly it looks like it's ready to peel away at any second. My heart pounds in my chest, looking upon the woman's pale midriff reflecting a dim glimmer from a faraway window contrasting sharply with the black leather top holding her large breasts, supported only by two thin black straps that gently cover her shoulders. Arching my head upwards, as if I'm taking in the top spire of a skyscraper, my heart skips a beat, looking upon the delicate features of a beautiful East Asian face framed by a black layered bob with a side-swept fringe. A stylish beauty that painfully contrasts with the terrified desperation coursing through my core. The uncanny brightness of her red eyes struck a sense of instinctive panic within me. Such an unnatural color, reminiscent of blood. Ruby-like jewels framed by a beautiful face made menacing by a devious, knowing expression.

Both myself and the man next to me both fall backwards in the same position, facing the door, our fingers interlinked tightly, our pulses in sync. I stare upon her left foot peeling its way off the ground, practically hoisting itself into the air, a dazzling array of white reflections shimmer off of the black boot's leathery contours with the movement of her tremendous ankle.

"Does she see us?" He asks, his voice now barely escaping his throat, staring upon her blank forward-facing gaze that appears to be fixated upon the bedding behind them. An immense heel clicks into the wooden floor, thrumming a now-familiar vibration through my entire body. A few scattered people nervously and cautiously stand upwards, tilting their heads upon the distant figure. At these scales, this immense woman still gives the appearance as though she's a harmless piece of backdrop, a distant mountain or a wisp of blurred clouds. In spite of this, my heart still experienced a certain stain of violation upon the sight of her. As though something so big shouldn't be so human, that her inherent domination over my body shouldn't be something bestowed by size alone. In effect, my brain quickly morphed this woman into a goddess, a force of nature that my puny form couldn't hope to resist.

I truly wasn't prepared for the rest of her foot to crash down upon the ground. With the man's hand still interlinked with my own, we both feel the hardened floorboards eject both of us into the air with a thunderous crash. Roughly landing upon the ground, it feels as though the woman teleported to the middle of the room without my mind being given the chance to even perceive it. Something so immense shouldn't move so quickly. It was only a few seconds and the distance between her and me was cut in half. I instinctively curl towards the man next to me, holding his forearm as hard as he was now holding mine. The only comfort in the face of the imposing figure now traipsing her way through the endless-looking bedroom. A single movement of her hip bumped the door behind her back into its original position, clicking shut. In spite of the fact that I was but one of dozens of people in the room, I couldn't help but experience a pang of isolated fear. I felt, in the depths of my soul, truly alone with this woman. Hearing blood rush through my head, I watched as the second step initiated, the deep blackness of her boot twisting with a simple movement, looking like a storm cloud ready to overtake us all at once.

Though distant, my eyesight remained static upon the black sole of the stranger above. Tilting my  head to the side, feeling my hair brush up against my shoulders, an uncanny sensation tickled at me from within. A small part of my instinct urging me to get up and flee, to value my life in the face of obvious danger. I couldn't move, I could only stare, like the rest of the dumbstruck victims that surrounded me.

The next vibration carried through the floor didn't sound like the last one. Through my bare skin I could feel a subtle crunching shiver before a thumping pop as the woman's boot came into contact with the floor. Seeing the angle between sole and floor begin to shrink, I let out a sharp gasp, feeling the series of grinding bursts resonate through the floor as the woman's foot finally slams directly into it in a shockingly bright red splash.

"Down here! There are people down here! Look down!" One of them shouts while I remain planted into the ground in total shock. The reaction of the crowd is confused and inconsistent. While some continue to stare in silence, their minds completely overloaded in the abruptly horrifying situation, a few stand and attempt to get the attention of the woman above, signaling only to a set of unthinking boots. Others run in scattered directions, most towards the overhanging shadow of the nearby bed. "She doesn't know we're here!" Another voice screams, her voice breaking mid-sprint, heading towards the darkness behind them. "We need to find somewhere safe! Now!" That same woman says, trying and failing to get others to follow her, most people simply gasping, stricken by the same instinct as a deer when faced with a set of quickly-brightening headlights. 

"She's right. We gotta go. We gotta go right now." I say to the man next to me, my legs jiggling against the ground. I attempt to pull him, but he feels as though he's completely planted into the ground. The shock melting away into panic, I sink my nails into the skin of the stranger next to me, but he feels as though he's literally sinking into the floor. A sense of protectiveness overwhelms me, grunting in strain in my futile attempts to literally drag him towards the relative safety of the bed.

In the midst of my struggle, the blur of the other bootheel begins to rise in the background. Pangs of terror course through my body, feeling the encroaching violation of another human form so apparent in the room's tension. I can only feel the looming presence beginning to quickly head towards my position, I let out an eke of panic, experiencing the puffing wind of air pass me by as more members of the shrunken crowd sprint away. I can feel the shadow above me, the scent of new leather and the dusty detritus of a rubber soul. I know that another human being is far too close to me, imposing upon me violently, but all I can do is attempt to drag the shocked form that has glommed upon my arm.

Hot, red blood sprays all over my naked body in an abrupt, thundering crunch. Where I was once holding a man, now I'm only holding a single forearm. The blank space before me was abruptly and shockingly replaced with nothing but a bloodstained black wall fallen from unknown heights, a wet earthquake spreading blood, viscera, and death upon everything I see.

My throat feels sore, but I don't immediately know why. Craning my neck upwards, it feels as though the blasting impact has made its way within, shuddering out my lips. Letting the metallic taste of blood drizzle from my face, only now do I realize that I'm releasing a broken, shattered scream. The left hand of the man that once held me for comfort still desperately clings to me while I am forced to reckon with the fact that I was less than a centimeter away from joining him as a puddle of crimson gel pressed into the hardwood floor. I whip my arm forwards in reflexive disgust, chucking the dismembered arm against the woman's boot heel in a vile splash.

I attempt to regain my footing, planting my soles against the ground, but succeed only in slipping, face planting comically into the layer of crushed bone that oozes from underneath the black wall that still faces me. I let out a disgusted screech, turning my head, witnessing a scattered row of shivering, jumping bloodied limbs jutting away from the pressure of the leather boot before me. I crawl backwards, lubricated by blood, seeing the bloodied sole lift upwards, cords of scarlet fluid dangling from above, drizzling a rain of compressed meat and matted hair upon my shivering body. Looking downwards, I watch the final twitches of the man's right forearm fade away, the final signs of a life that once clung to me desperately, gone in seconds.

In a horrified daze, I finally find some uneven footing, my balance completely shifted, feeling scattered remains of shattered bone and broken skin dripping from my wet hair. Still enthralled in a trauma-induced stupor, I watch as the very boot that obliterated dozens, including the person holding me continues forwards, seemingly hundreds of feet, to land upon a scattered crowd of fleeing victims. The earthquake that follows causes more bits of viscera to slough off of my shivering skin as I gaze upon the next red splash crushed away from underneath the stranger's boot heel. A scattered set of dissonant screams made silent by a single, crunching step. The mundane, simple action causing so much destruction caused me to develop a hypnotized tinnitus, a bell ringing in my ear interrupted only by another victim grasping me by my shoulders. I know my facial expression is blank, drooping, tears leaking from my eyes without the emotional wherewithal to cry with it.

A young man's face stares into my own. Though I'm completely bathed in blood, he only has a scattered spray upon one side. His expression is twisted, morphed with panic, his cheeks sunken and his lip quivering, making him appear as though he had aged a decade in the past few seconds. "She can't see us right? She doesn't know we're here, right?" His voice is tinged with a gripping desperation, practically screaming into my face, as though I knew the answers. Watching his hands run along my blood-covered arms, his gaze remains fixed upon my face. We lock eyes, the closest human connection I've had since the last one was crushed away. "She couldn't have just done that, right? Intentionally? No one's that… that… no one's like that, right?" Spittle escapes his quivering lip while we both shift our gazes upwards, looking at the picturesque stranger dip her upper body gently. Her breasts dangle under her tight black top as she deftly places a small glass bowl on top of the overhanging nightstand with a polite clink. We watch as she turns towards the crowd, placing her hands upon her hips, looking down with a devious smirk. Each time she even subtly shifts her stance, I can hear a series of scattered, crunching pops resonate through the ground.

Every single shrunken person stares back upon her, completely petrified. The room is silent, save for a few people in the distance shrieking in response to their newly-missing limbs. I can't help but notice the small crowd near the front of her feet, the bulk of the group that had started sprinting towards the bed in response to her entrance. Watching her smirk curl into an evil-looking smile, I let out an instinctive scream, watching her knee curl upwards before she stomps forwards with a malicious intentionality. A loud, penetrating boom sends a shockwave into my skull while the terrified figure before me detaches. My bloody hands escape his grasp while I curl and wetly place my palms against my ears. Looking before me, I stare upon a veritable explosion of body parts ejecting from either side of the woman's descended boot. Arms, legs, and other body parts flinging through the air, spraying bodily warmth in chaotic directions.

As if on cue, every shrunken person within the vicinity scattered in randomly-chosen directions. I chose to run forwards, an arbitrary choice, unfortunately forcing me to navigate a bloody footprint. I can feel the hot squish of crushed bodies under my feet while I, in a panic, attempt to create some distance between myself and the impossibly malignant woman who has somehow trapped us all with her. Another splattering crunch explodes from behind, causing me to slip on a pile of viscera before another hazy mist of body parts begins splattering down like a hot hail infused with bony shards. I shriek yet again, attempting to wipe away the falling debris, looking upon a running crowd before me, composed of at least fifteen people. Some instinct within me tells me to join them, but I'm abruptly silenced by a falling foot descending from above.

In an instant, I watch what looks like a falling wall. An endless expanse of sheer blackness thumps down in a casual display of complete, uncaring power over human life. Where once were fifteen scattered, running souls, naked bodies splotched red, was now nothing more than the bloodied sole of a woman's black boot. It thunders down with a loud, inconsistently-textured crunch, reducing bodies into nothing more than a bone-ridden red ooze. I can't help but retch, clutching my chest, hearing an excited laughter echo from above right after I was forced to witness over a dozen lives crushed out of existence like the lit end of a used cigarette. The explosive, crunching sound of the thick sole against hard ground caused me to take several steps backwards. I arched my neck yet again, my nervous system nearly overloaded from such intense stimuli, to watch another few stragglers running for the underside of the bed become crunched under the descending step of the stranger above. A satisfied sigh replaces the sounds of screaming panic and crunching bones. Seeing her twist her ankle, making sure the remains underneath her are fully obliterated, I can only step backwards, every inch of me now bathed in a thick sheet of blood.

Chaos whirled through every one of my senses. I could only shiver in place, my feet slipping on the caking of blood that covered every inch of my surroundings. Blinking, I slowly began walking forwards, feeling the squish of the fluids against my soles. I looked down, shrieking, kicking away an eyeball still partly covered in flesh. I grit my teeth, experiencing the warmth of countless bodies all cling to me as if composed by a cloyingly sticky syrup. Each breath was heavy with the scent of iron, the sounds all around me full of crunching and screeching. I heave yet again, feeling the spray of blood slowly begin to drizzle down my arms, weighing down my head. I take a step forwards into the red blur, feeling the broken shards of bones squish against my bare skin. Sharp pains prod at my shivering body while I watch people crawl before me, leaving red streaks of blood, their skin and guts pressed into ribbons. A mixture of moaning agony and shrieking terror is punctuated only by deep, crunching steps that feel as though they're twisting my innards.

I attempt to step forwards yet again, but I succeed only in falling face-first into a puddle of viscera-infused blood. I raise my arm, feeling the snaking of flesh slither off of it before a young woman's face comes into view just beyond it. As I attempt to crawl backwards, I find no purchase upon the slippery wooden surface behind me, watching her drag her body towards me. The clash between the paleness of her visage and the redness of the blood drizzling down her face sent me into a reeling spasm. I can only watch, suppressing the thought that she almost looked like a vanilla cake with strawberry syrup dripping down the sides. Digging my nails into the hardwood behind me, I instinctively curl backwards as the young woman attempts to grasp my calf, but her bloodied hands slip away. "Please. Help me. H'lk. P'liss." Her voice sounds deep and gravelly, it doesn't sound as though it matches the body it's coming from. Long, curly blonde locks which would look beautiful in any other context are weighed down by the red dye of the surrounding crush. I watch her grasp my legs, not moving, feeling the frigidity of her pale arms come into contact with my leg, coated in hot blood. The sensation is revolting, feeling this stranger climbing up my naked, bloodied body. I sit still, completely petrified, watching maroon fluid begin seeping from her mouth, dripping down her lower lip, pouring upon the ground below her face as if being spilled from a bottle of chocolate fudge. I want to get up and sprint away, but the sensations of both horror and pity hold me down, cementing me to my shocked position. In all this time, feeling her nails press into me, sliding her forwards, I only now notice that her body is missing below the waist. Completely cut off as if with a guillotine, the sharp cut of skin spills forth a long trail of organs and viscera, leaving a zig-zagging red streak. I grasp her hand as it continues creeping up my side, feeling only cold skin under my press. I feel bubbles of blood bursting between my palm and hers. I can only stare into her bloodshot blue eyes leaking tears, feeling her shivering begin to fade away as she continues to beg. "H'lp… m'h…" She lets out between blood-bubbling coughs before her grip relents and she falls limp against my leg. Breathing heavily, I understand that I'm now being weighed down by a corpse. I push the dead body off of me, watching gallons of red continue to spill from her lower half.

After getting to my feet, making some distance between myself and the dead body, I watch as the immense woman begins bending her form, her glove-shrouded arms extended before her, as she gets on her hands and knees, hovering over the few dozen souls remaining after her crushing rampage. Now shrouded by the shadow of her torso, I experience another upswell of fear, experiencing a shuddering vulnerability as her dangling breasts hover overhead. Watching her crawl forward, I sprint to escape her shadow, seeing her left hand smash another person against the ground before they loudly pop against the tight-fitting black leather glove. I wince in horror, seeing her right hand lift back upwards, posing like a claw. As if a bird-of-prey were scouring its environment, the feminine hand from above seemed to scan for any sprinters before choosing a particularly quick woman in the distance. I fall forwards, feeling blood splatter against my bare chest, seeing the other tiny victim lifted upside-down by her ankle. The immense woman gingerly places her between thumb and forefinger, placing a few other individuals next to her, pinched in the glove's soft embrace. I can only stare, watching sets of tiny arms pounding against thick sheets of leathery glove in complete futility before the gentlest pressure causes their forms to be replaced with nothing but an oozing red crush. The blackness of her gloves gives the drizzling blood a darkened, syrupy appearance. Watching her red lips continue to warp into an expression of delight, the endless-looking stranger appears to be enjoying the suffering of the people scattered all around her. As if to show off to the other victims how easily she could end them, she smeared the four individuals between her fingertips, reducing their screaming bodies into nothing more than a thin sheen of red slime.

With the same bloodied glove, she outstretched her pointer finger, descending towards the group yet again. With a casual grace, she touches the ground as if pressing upon a button, grinding another tiny person into nothingness with a red, crunching squish. I can only walk around in a daze in response to this, watching the chaos of victims running with nowhere to hide clash with the mundane glee of a scantily-clad stranger. Now stumbling, my mind is now reduced to nothing but defeat. It's as if I am at the foot of an endless mountain and I'm gazing upon a quickly-approaching avalanche, a true and inescapable force of nature. I see her and I instinctively know that outrunning her is too futile to even attempt, like fleeing a gust of wind. A low drone hums within my brain, causing me to witness a group of people attempting to pound against a set of massive fingers attempting to lift them upwards. I know their struggles are completely futile, but something dead within me is forcing me to watch. It looks as though she's attempting to pick up a flat coin from the ground, but I know she's using her immense power to sandwich a set of human bodies between fingertips for the express purpose of feeling them pop one by one against her immense touch. I can't bring myself to feel anything but disgust when I hear a giggle emanating from above me.

---

Internal brightness radiated through Kazumi's chest. Unflappable glee sparked within her soul while she self-actualized through her own flavor of power enforcement. She smiled, her red eyes curled into an expression of devious happiness, while she wiggled her gloved fingers. Relishing both the sights and sounds of her victims below, she couldn't help but experience a sense of fascination in watching all those tiny bodies squirm away from her. Sighing, she curled her body to take a closer look upon the crowd of bodies all fleeing her beautiful face. Attempting to suppress a smile, she gleefully used her pointer finger to threaten the people below. It was beyond satisfying seeing something so simple as a gloved digit stop crowds in their tracks. She didn't even have to say anything, all she needed to do was point at them and they'd cease. Cocking her head, she simply pressed her hand forwards, feeling a miniature human being struggling underneath her touch. It was uncanny. Kazumi's eyebrows arched in curiosity, feeling the bodily warmth of someone less than a centimeter tall penetrate through the glove's leathery border. She could feel every one of its limbs squirm under a subtle touch. Using as little muscle power as she could, she pressed the body slightly harder into the hardwood, experiencing a tiny cracking sound accompanied by a much more fervent struggle. Kazumi gasped, lifting her finger up, feeling the body glued to her fingertip via its own guts. She smiled before diving her finger back down, obliterating the body into nothing more than an uneven pulp of blood and bone.

The reactions of the others were the best. Some stood and stared while completely dumbstruck, others bolted, some simply broke down crying. Kazumi experienced thrums of power all the same, pressing down each body one by one, experiencing pangs of happiness each time one popped under her slightest touch. She craved the tactile sensation of crushing all the bodies below her underneath her imposing torso, but she knew she could get much more mileage out of compressing them underneath her soft, gloved fingertips one by one.

Even the mundane action of picking up a few filled her with a sense of amused excitement. It felt as though she had a few squirming grains of rice between her fingers, each one popping into wet stillness with just a light squeeze. A thrum of glee pulsed through Kazumi's body as she proved to herself how easily she could reduce this crowd of people, all with their own families, priorities, and dreams, into nothing more than red paint soaking into her gloves and covering her skin. 

Raising her glove before her face, she stared in awe, her jaw dropping, watching a mixture of squirming bodies and blood drip down her fingers, sliding down her palms and congealing upon the blackness covering her forearms. Kneeling upon the wet ground, she watches as the squirming victims begin to adhere against the black surfaces of her glove, some nearly reaching her elbow. With each tiny person taking up their own drop of blood, Kazumi twisted her forearm, pressing the bodies into her arm one by one with a series of wet crunches. Making pleased moans with each press, she gently shivered, feeling the crunches echo through  her own bones, an echo of her own power. Kazumi thought of her own body in comparison to the tiny ones covering her. Where she was a monument of power, those covering her were nothing more than pests to be crushed out of existence. Blood seeped down her glove, the red warmth now smattered against her upper arms.

Looking downwards, she saw a great crowd of tiny people all fleeing from her at once. Smiling, feeling a spark of creativity shudder through her, she pointed a gloved finger down upon them yet again. In a uniform scream, they all feel almost at once as Kazumi pounded a fist into the ground next to them, causing a small earthquake, creating a blank canvas of readied horror. Grinning with even more ferocity, she wiggled her fingers, fully prepared to write in red calligraphy below her. Pressing ten bodies into the ground with a crunching squish, Kazumi smiled widely, her red eyes now wildly staring down with excitement. In a quick sweep, she ran her finger down the crowd, smearing dozens of people into nothingness for little more than a red streak upon her bedroom floor. Letting out a giggle, she pressed down another crunching press, perpendicular with the first swipe. Running her tongue along her lips, she looked down, using the blood below her as finger paint, crunching, sweeping, and squishing countless lives to write nothing more than a simple "Hi" next to a smiley face. The edges of these designs were bordered with squirming maroon hills of blood and viscera, which seemed to expand as not-yet-dead bodies attempted to free themselves from the relentless stick.

Using her finger in a claw-like formation, she scooped up the remaining bodies upon the borders of her beautiful artwork. Smattering them against her palms, she ensured that every possible inch of her gloved hands were covered with a warm layer of still-living bodies, though several were inevitably partially dismembered, squirming and screaming. Smiling widely while shutting her red eyes as hard as she could, she whipped her arms outwards with as much force as she could before clapping them together with a fervent intensity. A red mist of blood, bones, and viscera hung heavy over the tiny crowd below, as well as Kazumi's torso. The loud clap echoed against the room's walls while body parts showered from almost every direction. Kazumi let out a piercing laugh, watching the tiny people attempt in vain to flee from the rain of blood. She politely covered her mouth, staring at them trip over dismembered limbs and slip on puddles of slick blood. Didn't they know there was no escape?

---

I know I'm one of the lucky ones. One of the few that remain after witnessing a veritable rampage. The leather-clad woman, with streaks of red now dotting her pale body, descends her face towards the remaining survivors. From this vantage, I can see every minute detail of this stranger's face. The thick, but sharp lining of dark cosmetics around her eye, the delicate features made graceful from the tightly-knit pores that dot her nearly-flawless skin, the thin sheen of red lipstick that eerily matches the blood hotly sticking to my body. Underneath her gaze, witnessing the subtle flaring of her nostrils, I can't help but feel my own futility. I can't even bring myself to stand anymore. In the face of such power and a callous regard for human life, I can only kneel. In the midst of the dozen or so remaining people, I feel my knees squish into the hardwood flooring, looking up at the visage so large that it is now functionally my sky.

"Who wants to be eaten?"

The question flows from the woman's mouth in a warm wave of humid breath. Her eyes, an uncanny shade of bright red, flash a subtle, but malicious excitement that makes my skin crawl. The casual way in which it was asked, the flowing, almost playful way they were twisted from smiling lips, caused a tear to fall from my eye, washing away a layer of blood in a thin streak.

A young woman a few feet to my left reflexively shouted "No! N-not me! Please! Don't eat m-"

A wet crunch filled in the empty space where the woman once sat, a twisting pointer finger reducing broken bones into nothing but slime-ridden dust. "Wish granted!" The woman shoots back with a sneer before flicking away the fresh corpse like a picked booger.

Without being given the time to respond, I can only watch the woman's red lips part, my eyes transfixed upon the wet pinkness slithering free. An endless, sticky tongue glinting with a thick layer of drizzling saliva. Its close proximity radiates a violating warmth, a thick, sour scent of spit that clings to my skin and sinuses. It feels almost as though she's leaning in for an unwanted kiss. I can only raise my arm in protest in a hopeless attempt to separate myself from the wet, twisting appendage now slipping down from a set of split, crimson lips. I hear the slick sounds of the woman's tongue slather against my neighbors, lifting them from the ground in a thick, disgusting layer of glue-like fluid. It's as though she's plucking up individual sprinkles with nothing but her taste buds, causing a set of screaming bodies to be dragged up within her intimate oral warmth, joining her for eternity. Though I feel almost emotionally dead, I can still eke out a disgusted grunt, watching her tongue smear the bodies along her lips before forcing them inside her mouth. Her cheeks shift and her lips pucker, muffling their screams with the sound of rushing, crackling mouth emanations. My spine shudders in response to the sonorous gulp, a farewell message to the unlucky partygoers now slithering down inside the stranger's depths.

I fall down backwards, watching the stranger's tongue slide from the partially parted lips, a flag signaling my own demise. Though I'm still stained with blood, I can feel the foggy emanations of the woman's breath cake upon my body, sending shivers up and down my spine. In a final moment of complete desperation, I break. I let out a shrieking wail, watching several more tiny people swept up in a wave of sticky flesh, adhered to the thick layer of slimy coating, bullied by taste buds. I can only kneel, arching my gaze towards the center crevice of the immense wall before me, the tongue whose tip is slipping along the ground to subsume everyone in its path. I don't even place my arms up in resistance, I know everything I could possibly do to prevent my own consumption would be a true waste. Watching the buds grow larger as they grow closer to me, I let out a final disgusted squeak, feeling the body heat waft upon me while a set of nostrils eject a breathy exhalation.

Watching the immense tongue head for me is like seeing a building sliding in place, an uncanny, unnatural sight that my small mind has trouble parsing. I watch it sweep up a set of souls before me, all wriggling against the fleshy mass like insects caught upon flypaper. I grit my teeth, smelling the sour rankness of the stranger's oral cavity. In an instant, my world is full of pink twitching. First contact with the sticky wall is beyond my comprehension, every single nerve ending in my body screams in response to the vile tide now slipping against my skin like a wet paintbrush. A sense of disgust so profound it nearly ends my consciousness right there, but I am not allowed that mercy in my sensation of ascent. Any attempt to free my limbs from the sticky maze of saliva-coated buds is met with nothing, my size met with her spit is something that locks me into a complete submission. Though I don't even know the stranger's name, I feel as though I am being forced to be more intimate with her than anyone I have in my entire life. I can only grit my teeth while the hot syrup of the stranger's fluids drizzle over me, gluing me against her pulsing flesh, my eardrums full of the sharp crackling of the tongue's slow slither against the ground. The sounds that surround me send shivers through every nerve ending I possess. Screeching, broken, desperate shouts of "Stop! Please! Get away from me!" and other aspects of desperate horror drill into my skull, resonating with the clicking, salivary flood. I let out a gasp while the rest of the world turns into a blur of motion, knowing that even if I detached right then, I'd face a lethal fall upon the ground. I ball my hands into fists, feeling the stranger's saliva squish between my fingers while the tongue slips back up into the stranger's mouth, shrouding me in darkness. A sense of brutal futility thunders through my veins while a sweeping array of mucus-tinged bubbles peels me from my adherence and drags me towards the stranger's waiting throat. Experiencing the gentle painting of an immense uvula, I can only stare as the sliver of my last light is ripped away by the soft closure of the stranger's lips. Shivering in horror, I let out one, final pained shriek before the arching of the throat silences me with a loud gulp, pulling me down into the core below in a long, esophageal drag.

---

Kazumi arches her head backwards, experiencing the divine sensation of the futile struggles slipping down into her body. Moaning in an expression of pleasure, she sits backwards, her boots clicking against the ground, grinning upon the stillness she created before her. A few bootprints of blood and a tingling stomach were all that remained of the fifty-or-so people scattered upon her bedroom floor. She rubs her midriff, her fingertips slipping against the top hem of her skirt, before she plants her soles upon the ground and hoists herself back upwards with a satisfied sigh. Planting her bottom upon the bed, she interlinks her gloved fingers and bends her knuckles backwards, feeling her fingers loosen up after a series of sharp, pointed cracks. It wasn't every day she was allowed to indulge like this, taking every moment as deliberately and as slowly as she could, making sure she reveled in even the most minute of emotional reactions she was eliciting from below. Slowly turning her head towards the glass bowl on her right side, she couldn't suppress a single giggle, hearing the uniform shrieking in response. Kazumi knew that they had seen everything from their vantage point perched above the scene of casual destruction. She felt a swelling of excitement burst from within her, seeing them crowd around the far side of the dish, as if they could climb the sheer wall to the "safety" of her nightstand.

Within the bowl itself, chaos reigned. Pounding against the glass in a pathetic attempt to break through it, I grit my teeth and experience a sensation of trapped helplessness. Squinting my eyes, I can't help but imagine how abruptly my life had changed. Just yesterday I was a normal twenty-five year old guy seeking out social experiences to come out of my shell after graduate school, today I'm paying for that after being trapped in a scale beyond my previous imagination. I run my hands along the sides of the bowl, watching streaks of panicked sweat form against the walls, fogged up with the proximity and fear of dozens of fellow shrunken victims. After watching this immense woman crush and swallow countless others, the gaze from above feels stark and penetrating. As if the sky itself were judging me, ready to throw a lightning bolt upon my tiny form as if some forgotten goddess needs to remind my mortal body of its place. The sounds are a cacophony of panic and confusion, screeching and pounding, bare fists against glass, nails scratching against sheer surfaces that provide no purchase nor protection. I know that I am at the mercy of the woman above, filling me with such a desperate fear I need to actively prevent panic from taking full control, as it had to many others around me.

With a smiling grin, Kazumi wiggles her fingers above the dish, the black appendages looking like a spider's legs slowly descending upon the crowd. "Good, good." Kazumi muses. "It's nice of you to all crowd into one place. It makes it easier for me." Her hand descends directly into the bowl, her fingers clumsily, almost disrespectfully plucking out a dozen human lives all at once. Though they're less than a centimeter in height apiece, she can still feel the subtle warmth emanating from their squirming fear. This unexpected sensation causes her to squirm with glee, swinging her legs upon the bed, still donning her long black boots, placing her back against the bed frame. Outstretching her wrist, she creates a little platform with the palm of her hand, smiling down upon the twelve tiny people now under her thrall. She tilts her head, feeling her bob bounce against the side of her face, gazing at their awkwardly tiny forms. Even the smallest bulges on her leather glove act as insurmountable obstacles to people this size. Watching them struggle to stand is actually comical, causing her to let out a laugh to no one but herself. Seeing the soft puff of her breath cause a few of them to fall backwards is equally ridiculous. Kazumi rolls her eyes, if a simple giggle can overwhelm them, maybe these people do deserve what's coming to them. Their squeaky voices are almost beyond capture, but given the relative silence, Kazumi could hear their plaintive cries even from her vantage. "Please! Stop this! Don't hurt us!" - If this squealing isn't deserving of mockery, nothing is. Kazumi brings her palm up to her face, her wrist nearly coming into contact with her lower lip. She doesn't even need to say anything, she just slips her tongue from her closed lips, coating them with a thin layer of slick saliva. Another pang of delight courses through her body, causing her to gently wiggle upon her bed, hearing them scream in response to a simple lip-lick. She sighs, watching all of them fall backwards in response to the heavy, hot wind.

"No! Please! Don't do this! I have a family!" One of them shrieks from her palm in a pathetic attempt to appeal to her. Kazumi responds by slowly parting her lips and tilting the surface forwards, watching them attempt to climb upon the quickly-steepening leather surface of her glove. Maybe if she were without them, they'd be able to use the texture of her palm to find enough purchase for delay, but her tight-fitting leather glove was far too smooth for them to gain any sort of a grip at all. From their perspective, they were stuck upon a frictionless slide leading to a wide-open pit of darkened slime. Kazumi revels in feeling the vibration of their screams traveling down her palm. She knew that all they could witness was her face, the last thing they'd ever see. Feeling the ant-like pieces of flesh slip from the center of her palm, she dropped her jaw, finally experiencing the salty sting of the first victim falling upon the tip of her tongue. 

As if on cue, the first one signaled the falling of the rest of them, some missing her tongue entirely, falling directly towards the pitch darkness of her throat. While they landed within the scattered webbing of her saliva, Kazumi experienced an upswell of internal power, feeling each struggling dot as a human life she had the right to end and make one with her. She moaned upon them, feeling them all shriek and plead from the wetness of her oral cavity while she shook off the remaining stragglers. It was easier than eating popcorn, which didn't struggle and slide down towards her arching throat as easily as slippery little human bodies did. Listening to their panicked shrieks from within her own skull, Kazumi sealed her lips, feeling them attempt to fight the current of her saliva. In a practiced motion, she used her tongue to paint along their bodies, causing them to swish around within her mouth before a single swallow forced all twelve of them into her gulping throat. Leaning back and sighing in relief, Kazumi used her pointer finger to trace the warm, squirming bulge of tiny bodies down her esophagus. She let out a shiver of pleasure, feeling them pass underneath her collar bone before casting them off to her deepest core. Rubbing her stomach, she could feel the new additions provide a powerful tingle, hoping the ones lapped up on the floor could provide a satisfactory greeting for the newest arrivals. Turning back towards the bowl, Kazumi smiled, casually crossing her arms while a loud, audible groan emanated from within, causing the uneaten "Tinies" to all screech in response.

Witnessing this casual consumption of a dozen human lives caused me to nearly pass out. My knees jiggled and a thick sheen of panic-induced sweat coated every inch of my nude body. I couldn't escape the violation of the panic that surrounded me, other victims attempting to climb upon those who had fallen over, reminiscent of crabs all stuck within the same bucket. Watching the hand, still stained with blood from the floor, begin to fall upon them yet again sent the bowl-bound crowd into a new form of panic. Pure terror cascaded through the group while watching other victims plucked away one or two at a time. Every few seconds, a pained shriek would quickly be muffled with distance from above. Craning my neck upwards, I watched as she placed the plucked people from the bowl from one hand into another, as if she were collecting blueberries from a bush. A rush of humiliation bled through me, unable to grasp the level to which I have fallen. I truly am just a piece of food for a stranger, trapped within a bowl that I can't ascend even if I scrape the sides with all my might. 

I wince, letting an embarrassingly high-pitched scream escape from my lips. Experiencing an envelopment around my right ankle, I fall forwards as it pulls me off of the ground, forcing me to lose control of my emotions. I can't suppress the need to wail, bending my back as a set of thumb and forefinger pluck me out of the bowl itself, causing my ground to shrink away, leaving behind a crowd of screaming victims. Squirming, I arch forwards, balling my fists and slamming against the stranger's pointer finger, which doesn't respond whatsoever to even my most fervent strikes. I feel a swirling constrict me from within while the world around me blurs into nothingness, it's as though the room itself is replaced by nothing but an off-white cloud. Looking downwards, my hair swaying, I see the bowl below me replaced by a flat field dotted with other human beings. Slowly lowered towards the cupped palm, I let out another grunt escape my lips as I'm deposited upon the palm below. I continue to slam my balled fists against the ground as my terror is replaced by a confused, dissonant rage. I can't even recognize the ground below me as human, only as a force of nature like a landslide ready to subsume me in an indifferent reflex. Scratching my fingernails as deeply as I can into the glove below, I affect no change, I'm not even strong enough to leave any stray marks. The scent of leather intermingled with the metallic scent of blood, adding an instinctively frightening element to the odor of panicked sweat that surrounds me.

 "Oh my God, she's gonna eat us!" A woman's voice shrieks from behind me, sending a shiver down my spine. I can only react to a situation when I'm thrust into the position of extraordinary futility. I feel like a grain of salt melting within a vast ocean. I can only allow the forces all around me to act upon my body, any resistance would be met with agony. Feeling the tingling swell of ascent, I crane my neck upwards to gaze upon the grinning face that monopolizes my peripheral vision. Screeches of "I can't die! I don't want to die! Please!" and "Not like this! Not like this, anything but this!" fill my eardrums, sending empathetic bolts of terror up and down my spine. I can do nothing but watch the set of pink lips before me part, wafting out the sour breath of the stranger's mouth odor.

At this proximity, I can only watch while I am forced to perceive every detail of this stranger's lips. I see the soft wrinkles radiate from the center covered by a thin sheen of red gloss. Horrifyingly, at this scale, I can even see a few thin streaks of handprints where other victims attempted to delay their inevitable fate, to be dragged within this stranger's body permanently. I let out a shriek, feeling the tingling horror of a personal violation, I can't help but shake the sensation that this woman is far too close to me. I feel trapped more in my own skin at this point than trapped by this woman, trapped by gravity as my flooring tilts, trapped by my own disgust, watching her cords of saliva snap from her tongue to whip against her palate. Even the glint of saliva coating her teeth sends me into a horrified squirm. As the woman begins to pour the victims into her open mouth, I attempt to slow my descent, but the smooth surface of the leather glove provides no method to reduce the speed of my downward slide. I'm only allowed to watch while the mouth below me becomes bigger and more apparent. I see the subtle dance of her tongue, anticipating my flavor while her uvula springs up and down, as if pointing to my ultimate destination. I see pools of spittle form at the corners of her tongue, already lubricating the flesh to aid in my descent. Feeling a panicked hand grip my ankle, my rate of descent increases greatly, forcing out a panicked scream from my quivering throat. I watch as the lips pass over me, the threshold to a permanent darkness of warm slime. Her breath pours over me like a thick fog as I splatter wetly against the center crevice of the bud-lined muscle. The hand upon my ankle instantly slips away in a slickened grip.

A stranger's bodily heat wraps around my skin, forming a layer of disgust upon me. Oozing mucus and clicking spit washes and replaces my own sweat with an alien sheen that prevents even my most desperate struggles from slowing my descent. I let out a whimper, feeling the slickened taste buds dance along my thighs, causing me to nearly retch in response. I splatter down my palms against the stranger's tongue, feeling the thin white coating build up under my thrashing nails. My heartbeat feels uncontrollable while the immense muscle below me shifts in ways both unexpected and familiar. In an attempt to crawl forwards, towards the lip-framed light, I gasp as I find myself trapped within a suffocating darkness. Within the pitch black oral chamber, I'm surrounded by sounds of moaning terror, shrieking, continued pleas of "Don't eat me!", and the muffling, all-encompassing clicking of spit-against-mouth. The tongue below me slithers in place while the stranger blatantly plays with the scattered, squirming bodies dotting the inside of her mouth. Our writhing forms shudder while the pleased vibration of a sonorous "Mmmm!" echoes through us, conducting deep into our bones and resonating in our screaming, bubbling throats. Completely bathed in mouth slime, I can only thrash while the tongue's tip bucks me up into her cheek, causing the thin layer of scum to scrape against my face, forcing its way into my eyes and up my nose. Spitting out her saliva, my breath becomes one with the woman that now surrounds me. Battered against teeth, I wince, half-hoping that my life will end in a molar crunch, but I let out another pained moan, finding that mercy denied to me. Beaten by the ridges of the woman's palate, I feel myself gliding over the border between hard and soft flesh. Draped by the mucus-soaked roof, I find slithering limbs gliding against my body, slickened with snot-like fluid while ticklish spit bubbles course along our bodies as though we are nothing but pills she's dry-dropping. I attempt to swim within the brutal field of disc-shaped taste buds lining the back of her tongue, but the forested maze of her tongue's coating only slips against my writhing arms.

A silence, then a shift sends me into panic-induced convulsions. This is it. I'm going to be swallowed alive in the midst of wet horror. I scrape my fingernails desperately against the roof of the stranger's mouth, but I know she can't even feel me. Balled up in a slithering mixture of human bodies and spit, I'm thrust towards her arching throat, experiencing the strangely alien softness of fluid-slick flesh. I let out a pained yelp hearing the low, resonant gulp blast all around me. Several bodies slip down into the unknowable abyss below me while several sets of unseen hands try to slow their descent by desperately grasping at my shins. Another loud gulp wetly smacks all around me, forcing the spit bubbles into my mouth, exploding in an effervescent, violating stain within me. I let out another shriek while a ripple of folding flesh overpowers every muscle in my body, gliding me downwards in an unthinking peristaltic flow.

My squirming form is battered by the rough texture of the stranger's epiglottis for a split-second before I'm wrapped in a soft, pulsing tube, compressed against other squirming bodies stuck together with a thick wad of hot saliva. We all struggle, but our mass provides a surface in which the esophageal muscles can compress us downwards, our bones now vibrating in sync with the immense stranger's calm heartbeat. Hearing nothing but the muffled sounds of the stranger's bodily functions, I'm stunned by the sound of the hot wind flowing in and out of the tremendous lungs just inches away from me. Squelching crackling fills my eardrums while the slithering flesh maintains its even pull down towards the waiting sac below. I feel someone I'm pressed against letting out low, weeping cries while the hot, slick tubing maintains its peristaltic function, pulling us down in a rhythmic flow. I can't move, my joints are locked, my heart is rattling within my chest, awash with adrenaline-induced terror. Our descent slows, met with a newfound panic while a tight, muscular ring starts to slide over us. In spite of the fact that I haven't been deposited into the darkness below, a whiff of stomach gas sends me into a panicked, disgust-induced frenzy. In desperation, I attempt to claw my way up the pulsing tunnel, but the woman's cardia effortlessly splatters me into the stomach below in a single flatulent squelch. 

Poured downwards in a cluster of bodies and mucus, I feel myself attached to the ceiling of the stomach in a single cord of slime. As it breaks, we all fall down into the roiling sea of chyme, instantly overwhelming in its pungency and astringency. I let out a shriek, filling my lungs with acrid, sour, acidic fumes before letting it out in a pained yelp. The sounds are hellish while I attempt to navigate the churning pond of thrashing limbs and screeching pain. "Pound against the walls! She'll let us out! We gotta make her throw us up! Do anything you can! Punch her!" A gravelly, panicked voice yells from a distant darkness. "Please! I can't! It hurts!" a woman screams from right next to me. The chorus of pained voices sends shivers down my spine, the only frigidity I feel in this envelopment of wet heat. My attempts to swim are thwarted by how thick the goo I'm slathered in is. It's an unknowable mixture of mostly-digested puke, thrashing bodies, and broken corpses. A pulse of horror shudders through me while my eyes begin to develop a certain sting that, deep down, I know will never go away. I inhale the putrid, swampy air that surrounds me while I try to wade through the endless slime of mucus cords, finally making contact with an endless stomach wall. I run my palms upon the wrinkled surface, feeling the gentle curvature of the stranger's innards. The lining before my minuscule body feels invincible. It wouldn't make a difference even if I used every ounce of my strength, the sheer scale of her stomach prevents any true resistance. A gush of humiliation swells within me, knowing that an unthinking stomach can overwhelm all of us, our entire lives canceled out by a few wet squelches. Closing my eyes, I hear another cluster of bodies begin to squelch in from above, shouting "Oh no! Oh! No! No! No!" as if their terrified cries could help them while they're slipped into the sweltering chamber that continues to overwhelm all of us. In a thick splatter, I feel myself sprayed with a fine mist of puke as a mouthful of six or seven bodies lands right behind me. In response, the stomach itself churns in response to the new entrants, treating them as food to be dissolved into the acidic vomit that now surrounds all of us. 

"The burning! It hurts! Please, make it stop!" A woman's voice shrieks. "Let me out of here! Please!" Her pounding against the churning, squelching walls splatters specks of bubbling puke upon me, each point of contact a new pointed spot of stinging. Coughing, I still feel the woman's breathing resonate through the walls, even on top of the resonant clicking of the surrounding environment, the distinct sound of a calm heartbeat maintains itself as the dissonant backdrop to a chamber of shrieking horror. Slithering cords of slime shift at the same rate as the immense breaths thundering through the fleshy walls. The high watermark of the puke laps at the walls at the same rate as her breathing. Tiny bodies slide upwards with each inhalation, downwards for every exhalation, paring away acid-burned skin with the slightest caress.

I can do nothing but squirm, feeling the soft swell of digesting food muffle the screams of people thrashing around me. The heat is astronomical and relentless, feeling as though I'm trapped inside a shower at its maximum heat setting. Scratching the soft, muscular, mucus-covered walls before me, I retch yet again, feeling a distinct and familiar vibration resonate through my bones while the stomach's entrance splutters yet again. The walls arch and press me even deeper into the ocean of churning slime, forcing me to experience the thrumming echoes of a penetrating "Uuuuurp!" A wave of humiliation courses through my body, knowing that I was just subject to a disgusting belch from the stomach's perspective. Feeling the gas leave the churning chamber, the wrinkles squiggle even further, causing another immense churn and a shrieking, uniform panic in response. The puke is alive with the thrashing of horror, cords of vomit being whipped from squirming arms and final breaths being drowned out by a flood of bodily fluids. The stomach can only let out a deep, long groan in response.

In a strange mockery of intimacy, I can feel all of the woman's actions through her stomach wall. It's as though I'm standing far too close to her, able to understand her motions through deep contact. I can feel, through the sway of her vomit, that she's standing up, stretching, and sending a few resonant thumps through her core as she pats her stomach. In an attempt to protect my eyes from further acid-scorching, I find myself imagining what she must look like as she casually walks across the room. A loud, muffled boom echoes through the chamber, the woman's voice is distinct but too distant to make out what she's saying. Her tone is both mocking and devious, as though I knew she was making fun of us in spite of the fact that I had no idea what she was saying. All I could do was experience the thick sheets of stomach mucus slather off of my arms while I attempt to find purchase against the wrinkled folds of her heated innards. I place my hands over my ears, squishing her chunky puke against the sides of my face, attempting to drown out the sounds of her thick boots clicking against the ground. 

---

Kazumi licks a salty tinge from her lips, feeling electric with the unique panic of consumption. After letting out a soft belch, she sighs, hoisting herself off of the bed before patting herself on the midriff. "Enjoying your new home?" she asks, rubbing her stomach, knowing that the people squirming within her can hear. Walking towards her kitchen, a few tiny people enveloped in her left hand, she can't help but feel a burgeoning arousal coursing through her. The tingling sensation of panic from within forces her to experience a certain type of dominance that translates into a certain guilty excitement. Putting on a cup of coffee, she licks her lips, staring upon the few scattered people running on her gloved palm. A loud groan emanates from within her body, causing her to look upon the coffee maker with impatience. Smiling, she grasps the now-full mug with her left hand and unceremoniously dumps a handful of screaming people into the coffee itself. Watching them splash the hot liquid in abrupt pain, she licks her lips, shushing them as she begins to pour frigid creamer upon their scorched bodies. "Shhh… shh… I know. Who takes their coffee black, right?" She asks before bringing the mug to her puckered lips.

---

Confusion blisters through me while my body is battered within the glove of an immense stranger. Entrapped by a cage of fingers, my form spilled forth into nothingness, only a gently swaying cup of steaming blackness to cushion my fall. Everything happened too quickly to truly parse. Like the others, I was enjoying a party just last night before having woken up in a cold glass bowl in a daze with no idea how I got there. My skin reels from contact with the intense heat of the coffee below. With barely a chance to understand my situation, I grit my teeth and screech, staring upwards at an ominously hanging spout. Brutal, coursing terror thunders through my veins, experiencing the conflicting relief of the glacially cold cream pouring upon my body. My nerve endings all feel lit ablaze after one second being slathered with scalding coffee, the next being chilled to my core by the blindingly white spill from above. I let out a shattered, agonizing screech, splashing into the fluid below, my mouth now aflutter with the distinct flavor of coffee. Splashing through the liquid, I can't help but experience a surge of panic pulsing through me. The combination between listening to dissonant screams echoing off the walls and the immense, feminine presence looming overhead sends me into a state of stunned shock. My arms brace against the sheer side of the coffee mug, the liquid soaks into my hair, weighing me down, while I crane my neck upwards and gasp. The woman's face is taking up the entirety of the sky, looking as though her features are framed by the rim of the cup itself. "Shhh… shh… I know." Her lips twist, creating the sounds of oral crackling, causing me to heave in disgust, spitting out the distinctly-flavored spray. My limbs jiggle, my joints feeling like they're weak and gelatinous while I'm forced to feel her breath waft over me, warping otherwise-familiar words into nothing but thunderous, alien terror. Veins feeling as though they're guitar strings writhing through my limbs, I clutch my chest, feeling the word "Coffee" thrum through my bones.

Her breath is sour and uninviting, her lips spreading open to reveal a portal of terrifying, disgusting darkness. In spite of the fact that her lips are beautifully-shaped and textured, my brain can't help but interpret it as a gateway to a dimension of incomprehensible horror. The surface of the fluid jostles as it's slowly and gracefully picked up from the ground, the sounds of splashing gurgles and bodies clinking against the side turned into a dissonant orchestra of disgust and terror. We all smelled the same breath pour from above while the same sensation of ascent gripped us. In this coffee cup, we were all the same, nothing but added spice for this stranger's morning brew. This humiliation caused me to wail, watching her lips grow larger as she gently placed the edge of the cup upon them. A slow, resonant slurping vibrated my bones, the signal of my imminent consumption into the woman's tremendous form. My fingers slip from the edges of the cup, bullied away by foam and current, and dragged towards the waiting mouth behind me. I splash in futility, watching the inner lining of the cup pass over me, as though I'm being pulled backwards through a tunnel on top of a fast-moving train. Every inch I am dragged backwards, I feel the stranger in a more intimate, violating way. Any attempt I make to swim against the current results in complete failure. I choke while the coffee spills into my throat, listening to it course over the texture of the lips and teeth behind me. I hear shouts of "Stop! Please! Don't swallow! Don't do this!" and "I don't want to die!" bursting around me from all angles, sprayed from heads bobbing in and out of the rushing water like buoys in a storm. Inhaling, I am forced to face the mixture of coffee and the stranger's breath, experiencing a vile warmth begin to overtake me. Now witnessing the bottom of the cup in the distance, I attempt in futility to reach it in spite of the fact that it's an ocean away. The only thing I can do is let out a pained squeak while I'm quickly spilled into a squelching chamber, my vision framed by a set of lips and teeth. I wasn't even allowed the courtesy of seeing the mouth that had taken me before it actually did. I couldn't help but feel a pang of regret, watching the waterfall of tan fluid continue to pour into the chamber, rushing me towards the arching throat behind me. A drizzling cord of her coffee-stained saliva whips me upon my face, infusing my sinuses with the bodily essence of the stranger. I attempt to wipe it from my skin, succeeding only in smearing it against my forehead, a final distraction before her arching throat drowns out my final light, pulling me down into the pulsing tunnel below. A loud, thunderous gulp signals the end of my life as I knew it. I attempted to inhale deeply, filling my lungs with coffee, fading my consciousness permanently before I even reached the entrance to her stomach. The last thing I heard was drowned out by a bodily squelch and a calm heartbeat, my hair forever stained with mucus and coffee.

---

Kazumi sighed, feeling the bolus of bodies squirming down her throat. A single swallow was a justification of her own power. Even the involuntary processes of her innards could easily overwhelm these tiny people, feeling them descend behind her chest, their tiny hands battering against her throat, was divinity manifest. She didn't even have to waste her precious time thinking about them anymore, her insides could easily cancel out their struggles even as they used all of their might to resist. Sorry, little ones, but your most fervent battles are thwarted by a single swallow on Kazumi's part. She thought about how they had all lived pathetic lives up to this point, never once knowing that they were existing only to end up providing her morning with a little extra spice. Patting her stomach, feeling their desperate writhing, she sighed and licked a spot of coffee from the corner of her lip. "At least you'll all be put to good use", she mused.

Experiencing a warmth from inside her body, she couldn't help but think back on how truly indulgent she could make the start of her day. She rubbed her stomach, the warmth of the coffee and body heat forming a center of heat within her. It was as though she had taken a long swig of unmixed vodka now settling in her stomach in a core of comforting warmth. Though she knew that the environment within her body was nothing but a chaotic mess of gore and breakfast, Kazumi couldn't help but sigh while fixating upon it. She focused on the sensations, the tiny hands pounding against her innards reminding her of the crunching pops of her gloves.

---

Each time she places a foot down, her chyme sways, feeling as though I'm trapped within a bag of warm snot. I cannot escape the relentless churn of the walls that surround me, experiencing lives being crushed out of existence on all sides. I grit my teeth, feeling a palm claw at me while the walls churn yet again, pulling them back in a pained, feminine shriek. In an instant, I know the stomach curling in on itself is causing a woman only inches away from me to be crushed into a fine pulp to be washed away in the ocean of hot slime lapping at my back. Hearing the sound of thick boots resonate through the chamber, tears manage to escape my eyes in spite of the fact that they're squeezed shut, sending bolts of agony coursing through my face and spine. 

Feeling the vibration of stomach walls churning against each other, I inhale yet again as I hear the sound of spillage emanating from above. In a few spluttering pops, I distinctly smell the odor of coffee while a waterfall of heat and screaming pours in from above. The liquid bubbles upon contact with the churning pool, causing it to release more heat and deepen to the point that I detach from the wall itself. As the woman drinks coffee on top of us, the fluid I'm trapped within thins out and becomes runnier, like loose egg whites upon a cold frying pan. The only true difference is that my splashing becomes more pronounced while I hear the distinct sounds of chewing and the now-familiar cue of a low, groaning swallow bellowing from above.

---

Kazumi licks her lips yet again, dragging in one final screamer before taking a bite of her bagel. Sending the unfortunate soul into her depths with a chewed wad of bread and cream cheese, she cocks her hips, tossing out half of the bagel into her kitchen's trash can. "I don't want to stuff myself too much," she says, smiling, rubbing her stomach. Downing the rest of the coffee in a series of loud gulps, she sighs, clicking the mug back down upon the counter, heading for the bathroom. 

---

Upon the bagel, I trudge through the whiteness of the cream cheese in complete confusion. I just woke up here, coughing and weeping, confused upon the wispy mountains of someone's breakfast. Craning my neck upwards, I gaze upon the beautiful feminine figure walking into the kitchen, donning a revealing leather outfit. I grit my teeth watching as she prepares some coffee, tossing in what looks like some squirming sprinkles each releasing a different tone of fear. I ball my fists, experiencing the soft cheese spurt through my closed fingers, my heart now pounding, realizing what I'm witnessing as she takes a few sips after pouring some cream and stating a few mocking words. Seeing her throat shift with each gulp, hearing the screams silenced after each one, sends me into a complete panic. I try to make distance between her and I, but the thick mud of the cream cheese prevents me from moving whatsoever. Each time I try to shift my legs or wave my arms, my body simply sinks further into the caking depths.

Knowing that there are human beings slithering down this woman's throat at the very moment she leans her head back and sighs in satisfaction lets me know how truly dangerous my situation was. The endless body, moving too quickly to truly feel natural, I dart my head from side-to-side, watching other heads begin to emerge from the surface of the cream cheese like "Whack-a-Moles" at a carnival. The once-white landscape now dotted with screaming faces, I can't help but let out a gasp of my own as her head slowly turns towards the bagel itself. Thrusting backwards in a futile attempt to escape her falling arm, I splash silently against the thick cheese that coats us all.

It's too quick to truly react to. The stimuli are overwhelming. I'm forced to grasp the fact that I had just woken up like this minutes ago, and now an immense, but beautiful woman is lifting up the bagel I'm hopelessly adhered to, right towards her splitting lips. The other apparently shrunken people react differently, one even scooping up a piece of cream cheese and throwing it as hard as she could, to no avail.

The stranger's quickly-approaching face now takes up the entirety of what I can see. It's as though I'm in one of those videos where a sailing ship is forced to face rogue waves upon a deeply rough sea. Her movements are fluid and uncaring as she opens her mouth, spilling the scent of freshly-made coffee upon all of us. My nostrils flare, experiencing the odor of sour breath mixed with coffee and cream cheese waft upon me. Her mouth fog clings to my body while the underside of the bagel slides upon her lower teeth, a scraping sound now causing the hairs upon the back of my neck to stand up. I'm truly being thrust into a realm of hot darkness while a set of white teeth pass above me, a stranger's palate my last cathedral. I look above in awe, witnessing all the wrinkles and folds of the roof of her mouth gently illuminated by the light spilling in from between her lips. It feels as though I'm in a collapsing cave as the palate itself begins to slowly descend, the landscape around me squeezed between her teeth in a vicious press. Though I had missed the initial bite, I heard a screeching woman next to me shouting "No! No! Don't eat me! No! No! N-" before a soft, wet crunch silenced her from existence, spraying me with a loose mixture of brain matter, saliva, and cream cheese. Wiping the horrifying mixture from my face, in the darkness I couldn't truly tell what I was touching from texture alone. I knew I could taste blood as the jaw underneath me lowered, an immense tongue now positioning the chunk of bagel I was bound to right upon the very spot that woman was once screaming.

Numbness threatened to grip my consciousness before I was jumped back into reality by a shockingly loud moan emanating from the darkness. "Mmmh. Mmm." The sound of delighted chewing crunched through my skull, the vibration from the noise shivering the fluids against my skin, causing a film of itchiness to develop over every inch of my body. I watch as the bodies scream in response to the buzzing.

Heat slathers upon me like melted plastic, gluing me in place. In spite of the fact that the cream cheese has loosened, I find myself bound to the same place by fear rather than physical adhesion. I attempt to dig through the mash before me, finding recognizable body parts, dismembered limbs, and the distinct tactile sensation of a bare eye socket, warm and still freshly pared from facial flesh. I let out another scream, darting myself forwards at the same split-second the jaw falls upon us yet again. At this point, I can only feel a radiant pressure emanating below my left knee as the masticated food rushes over my squirming body. With a piercingly loud "Sh'lck", I hear the teeth ascend yet again, causing me to lean forwards. Digging straight ahead, I found nothing but chewed bagel in place of where my leg should be. In the darkness of the stranger's mouth, I nearly faint, feeling the thin strings of my skin and flesh slither between my fingers before my nervous system truly grasps what's going on. 

A roiling sea of crunching screams emanated around from every direction. In the gentle strobe of her lips parting, allowing us the dubious mercy of illumination, I could only choke in response to what I saw. I longed for the shock of numbness, hearing the immense mouth around me crunching bones and popping skin. Through the bog of redness, I could see blisters of blood and viscera popping from the remnants of the chewed bagel. Screaming boils shattering the mud-like red surface of bagel and saliva. In the midst of the squishing, grinding din of the all-encompassing chew, the relentless screams of terror continued to drill into my skull along with the hot drizzle of masticated oral slime. Watching the molars rise up, I could see how the partly chewed clump of bagel was actually squirming with human bodies. Cords of slime drizzle from above, limbs still twitching as they're just barely separated from coiling, squirming bodies. Sights of piercing gore thundered through my system as my brain is forced to comprehend the immensity of relentless agony. Zoning in on the woman's incisors, I watched as the upper half of a woman's torso literally unspooled from a tight gap between teeth, watching her dangle by her intestines before her ribcage burst open with the squish of a tongue. The pulp itself was squirming with life, survivors squirming in the midst of the unending flood of body heat and internal slime. The cacophony of screaming met with the wet sounds of chewing sent waves of ASMR-like chill shuddering up and down my innards.

The simple pressure of my leg, the numbed-out mercy of abrupt dismemberment, is replaced with an agonizing, relentless pain of a type that I could never possibly anticipate. It was as though I were being incessantly stabbed, non-existent toes squeezing as hard as they possibly could. My own blood washes over me while it dawns upon me that this stranger is going to chew me out of existence, only to swallow me into nothingness. I writhe in horror, grasping the stump of my leg, experience my body flow like a sesame seed, a mundane piece of detritus in the midst of some stranger's chewing mouth.

My throat stings with the vitality of my scream. I don't want to die. Not now. Not like this. Despite my desperate shouts, the sharp molars begin descending yet again, instantly pulverizing my hips in a soft-sounding squish. Coughing up a thick clump of metallic blood, I feel the woman's teeth grind my entire lower half while the remainder of her chewed bagel flows around me and into me. In this compression, I feel the cheesy pulp slip into my shredded underside, my own guts now filling with another person's oral filth. I thrash my arms in a final, desperate attempt to prevent my own demise in a mass of goo, but I horrifyingly find my lower half stuck between this woman's teeth. The lower jaw escapes me and I find myself literally dangling backwards while the flesh of my hips and guts slips deeper in the tight gap of the woman's teeth as though I'm a stubborn popcorn kernel. I find myself nearly pared away while her throat arches with a loud, gulping swallow while I thrash wildly, wires of spit drizzling off of me while I twist midair. Seeing her lips part yet again, I am forced to endure the sight of my own gore. The mixture between my own blood and the white cream cheese forms a pink slime hammered into the teeth above me, causing me to whimper in my final moments as I finally detach, slamming directly in the center of a rocklike molar.

I can only feel my lifeblood spill from the lower half of my body as the next chunk of bagel slips into the stranger's oral cavity. I seize in convulsions, feeling her begin to clamp her jaws shut, my body ascending directly into the underside of the woman's breakfast. My futile attempt to raise my hands is blocked, I don't even have enough blood to blink. I'm made to endure this final crunch on her terms, not my own, as pulverized bagel worms its way up my nose, into my eye sockets, and between the wrinkles of my exposed brain. In only a few more quiet bites, my remains are nearly liquefied, easily and silently sent down in an almost imperceptible "Gluck."

---

Within her, I can't help  but let out another shrieking gasp, tasting the sour pungency of the mucus that coats my face. Hearing the splutter of the chewed food widening the stomach entrance, I can't help but also listen to the sounds of someone being physically crushed against the masticated bagel. Through the tight, muscular ring, their bones crunch wildly, spraying blood in a series of compound fractures while the chunk of bagel smoothly slips through the hole above and splashes into the acid below. Every time something new lands within the ocean of chyme, another series of screeches ring out in the scorching ocean of puke. Trudging my way back between two curling wrinkles, I find myself gripped by the tide of vomit, glued against the pulsing wall in a particularly sticky patch of this woman's stomach lining. Experiencing the lap of the frothy ooze against my body, I feel the areas between my toes and fingers begin to sting, my lungs developing a roiling burn to match. Hearing the sounds of cracking bones and horrified screams, I let out another grunt, barely recognizing my own voice, recognizing the sounds of the boots striking the ground.

Listening to the woman disrobe sends me into near-convulsions, my mind nearly unable to take the strange disconnect between the mundane noises of clothes-against-skin and the desperate screams of people trying to climb up the wrinkled walls. While people punch the walls, screaming about how it'll make her sick and throw up, the stranger that surrounds us seems to not notice whatsoever. I find myself peeled from the wall, the stickiness of her stomach paring away the outer layers of my palms, as she tilts over to take off her skirt and pantyhose. The sound of rushing water reaches the acidic pool, the obvious sounds of our captor starting a shower. Knowing how putrid and disgusting I feel in the midst of this woman cleaning herself causes a pulse of rage to course through me. Chaos ripped through the stomach, causing the tide of victims to lose all control as the walls rolled around us. The subtle, gentle bodily shifts of the woman all around us meant that no balance could be found, where they seek friction and purchase they find only slick imbalance. They are not even given the mercy to stand, they could only trudge through the quickly-softening sea of corpse-ridden sludge. Panic-induced screaming filled the chamber itself, providing a shrill foreground to the bass line of bodily groans and clicking fluids. While we are covered in hot puke, she's allowing herself the time to take a nice, relaxing shower. Feeling her breath sigh in response to the water pitter-pattering against her skin, I try to scream out a curse, but can only blurt out a mouthful of bloodied slime. 

Strangely, after the distinct, rain-like sounds of the shower fill the chamber, her heart begins to flutter. The deep, bassy backdrop becomes more fervent as the seconds continue, the chamber now shifting from side-to-side. I want to hurl. Feeling my skin begin to strip away in softened ribbons, I wince in response to a deep, resonant, sexual moan. The chamber of agonized soup screams in response, knowing that they're privy to a sexual game of which they are now a part. Hearing the woman stick her hand between her legs and vigorously masturbate while in the shower adds a personal, violating element to their torture. Not knowing she's rolling around over ten people in her mouth, moaning on them while she masturbates, I feel horrified as the remains of the chewed bagel slough over me like slow-moving lava. While her movement becomes more vigorous, wet squelches echo from above, sending waves of squirming bodies and shower water into the woman's innermost chamber, adding fresh screaming to the roiling pit of slime. I can no longer move without feeling skin peeling away from me, hearing bones crunching and bodies splitting apart while baking in the bubble-ridden stew of coffee, bagel, and human corpses. I dig my fingers into the wall before me, feeling the nails detach one by one, my body literally melting away from me in the pitch darkness, punctuated by a series of echoed moans. I can feel nothing but a relentless, droning terror pulsing through me, the only distraction from the agonizing pain of my body being flayed by the shifting acids. Though I can't hear the distinct words of her mockery, I can distinctly hear her moaning with each swallow. "It burns! Please, help me! It burns! It hurt so bad! Make it stop! Make it stop!" I hear screeching from across the churning pit before a swallow of bodies silences it.

---

Kazumi sighs as the hot water drizzles down her naked body. Running her fingers through her wet, black hair, she relishes the sensation of her internal tingling. The heat of the water pulsing against her in speckled rain drops reminds her of what those within her must be experiencing. A warm, relentless storm of her existence. Biting her lower lip, she runs floral body wash over her arms, her hands smoothly spreading the soap upon her soft skin, ridding herself of the leathery scent of her recently-removed clothing. Feeling the gentle indentations where her top and skirt were digging into her skin, she experienced the squirming from within begin to intensify, including within her mouth.

Craning her neck upwards and parting her lips, Kazumi felt voices escape her that weren't her own. Feeling her mouthful of tiny people begin to squirm and scream, she allowed her mouth to fill in with the hot rain falling from above. A chill ran up and down her spine while she relished in their screams, their high-pitched voices resonating against her lips. Experiencing the warm shower water spattering against the inside of her mouth, she closed her eyes, noticing the tiny limbs begin to lift up against her tongue. She experienced a spark of delight while feeling her captives swim around her upturned mouth as if it were an immense pool. Snapping her jaw shut abruptly caused the screaming sound waves to blast against the inside of her cheeks. Swishing them from left-to-right, bulging her cheeks, Kazumi felt the cluster of squirming bodies attempt to resist the current, including one unlucky passenger who ended up squeezed between her molars, causing the shower water to develop a distinctly metallic taste. Inhaling nasally, she closed her eyes before swallowing the entire group at once in a single sonorous swig. Kazumi lightly traced their trail down her esophagus with her fingertip, thinking of herself as a beautiful waterfall. A force of nature. 

Wiping away her dark eyeliner, she felt a heat between her legs, her nipples hardening. The very idea that the people within were taking a special bath of their own sent her into a near-frenzy. Running her hand between her thighs, she slipped a single finger over her clitoral hood, letting out a breathy sigh. Drops of water sprayed from her lower lip while her wrist began its familiar, practiced swirl over her most intimate area. Bracing herself against the side of her shower, she spread her legs, letting the steam fill her lungs as she shifted, feeling the movement inside her body intensify with every subtle movement. Moaning even louder, she wants to let the people within her know what they're being used for. Thrums of pleasure course through her, knowing that the simple act of private time within the shower is more than they can handle. She winces, imagining the chaos that must be roiling within her, hearing the subtle splatter of her finger between her legs, her heart beating faster, her deep, penetrating moans. It must be intoxicating.

---

"Ungh. Yeah. Oh. Oh!" The voice from above booms over us, almost in response to the scattered screams of "It stings! Please! I don't wanna die! I can't! Not here! Not like this! Please let me out!" Over the sounds of drizzling mucus and bubbling spit slathering on top of me, I can hear her moans becoming more frequent and intense, the wet sac that now encases us shifting back and forth, causing the stomach wall before me to slowly sand me down in contact. Hearing a moaning shriek, I feel more ribbons of skin begin to detach from my arms, weighed down by the hot cords of acidic mucus. Listening to the sounds of sexual ecstasy and heavy breathing pulse all around us, I fall into a delirium of pain, the vibrations of her orgasm helping to peel away my face. I attempt to scratch the walls, but I lack the strength to fully lift my arms. Another spattering swallow fills the chamber just as the movement all around us peaks in intensity. In the midst of this, the chamber shivered and squelched, throwing squirming bodies in every direction, mixing in with the softened food dissolving within her stomach. The woman had swallowed a group of people as she was mid-orgasm, joining those that had recently arrived near the start of the shower itself. The thought of being used in a deeply sexual game filled me with a sense of humiliated violation, forced to listen to her post-climax relaxation as the showerhead continues to spill on her while she catches her breath. I can only continue sinking in the muddy ocean of partly digested bagel and coffee while listening to the shower begin to silence itself.

---

The orgasm was radiant. It spread up and down her body, causing her to shiver in smiling delight. Kazumi arched her head backwards, letting the clean water spilling from the shower head cleanse her sweat and her sin. Running her fingers along her bare breasts, feeling her erect nipples against her palms, she sighed yet again, wondering what the environment inside her must be truly like. It mustn't be that bad by this point. The people within her are barely moving.

---

My body, now nothing more than a living piece of puke, glommed onto the inner wrinkle of a stranger's curling stomach, I'm forced to listen to the woman who ate me dry herself off as her heartbeat slows to its relaxed pace yet again. Listening to her traipse back over to her bedroom, I hear the sounds of her bare feet plop against the ground, a distinct change from the hard soles of the leather boots I watched her crush dozens with. In the midst of moaning agony, I feel a tidal wave of slop subsume me as the immense body that surrounds us all plops upon the very bed I was swallowed upon. I let out another whine, experiencing my skin pared away while the churning, groaning stomach continues its work upon us. With the chamber now noticeably quieter, I hear her patting her stomach yet again, whispering something unintelligible and muffled to us in a self-satisfied tone. The conflict between her relaxed, playful voice and the wet horror squelching within her was nearly too much for my mind to bear. This level of callousness felt as incomprehensible as the situation I found myself in. Dizziness blasted through me, hearing ragged, gasping breaths choking on hot puke nearly drowned out by the the ever-present, almost booming lungfuls of air slowly pumping through the slow-moving body we all found ourselves trapped within.

The sea around my body was cloying and relentless. The runny ocean of blood, puke, and bone shards kept slithering against my body as though it were an immense snake. Horror gripped me, experiencing the true terror of other bodies attempting to drag me down, as if they were the clawing gauntlets of demons attempting to drag me to the depths of an unimaginable Hell. Attempting to breathe, I could only fill my lungs with a thick fog that my body struggled against. I wanted nothing more than to excise myself from this muck, but the squirming all around me prevented me from moving under my own power. It was as though I was trying to swim in a pool made of only human limbs, each one coated in a thick layer of a stranger's snot. Subject to a loud, pulsing groaning, my mind couldn't accept the fact that I had been fully converted into a stranger's vomit. I couldn't come to grips with the fact that I had been eaten. This is the end and my consciousness stubbornly couldn't accept it. A dissonant orchestra of bodily groans and wet crackling filled my eardrums, barely muffling the sounds of human pain, the vibrations soaking into my core. If I had hair on the back of my neck at this point, it was standing on-end, but I couldn't tell which parts of me were still extant and which were dissolved into nothingness. I thrashed, feeling the weight of puke against myself while grasping hands continued to pull me downwards. Next to me, a woman writhed in terror, her long hair whipping against my face, my skin soft enough to come off in sheets at the slightest touch. At the same moment, the immense wrinkles of the stomach around us shifted, groaning as it pressed the gooey ocean within it, churning it into a finer slime. While consciousness begin to fade from my perception, I couldn't help but think back to the woman who had consumed me. How she had the most piercing red eyes I could ever imagine, how her body looked beautiful, almost ideal. I grit my teeth, tasting blood and sour vomit, experiencing the very same crunch between my teeth as this woman had underneath her fingers. I splash down in rage, feeling my bones become exposed to the environment all around me, blasting a new sense of pain into my nerves. A current of slop presses me into the wall before me, causing two bulbous wrinkles to hold me on either side, grasping me with a violating intimacy. It's as though the stomach itself is now embracing me, letting me know my new place, causing any resistance to be met with an overwhelming wall of muscle and mucus. Through this flesh I can hear, in painful detail, how truly relaxed the woman is at this point. Her breathing and heartbeat are both incredibly slow, she's just rubbing her stomach, seemingly focused upon the torment going on within her. Hot tears stung my eyes while I hang my head low, limply peeling away from the sticky surface. My hopelessly confused mind remains unable to grasp that someone can so casually end dozens of lives while so content in relaxation. Through an orchestra of satisfied sighs, the process of digestion continues aided only by a gentle stomach rub in the gentle, early twilight stages of a nap. This level of tortured horror should be in direct conflict with this level of peace, this unnatural mixture sends another wave of nausea through me, made worse by the background radiation of another satisfied sigh. 

Surrounding me is a spillway of bodies stubbornly clinging to life, as yet unaware that they are but partially digested chyme meant only for the surrounding body to absorb and make use of. Squirming limbs lubricated by acidic mucus, scalps peeling away with faces, fingers and toes washing away in currents of churning slime as if they were nothing but added spice on a gourmet dish. Human screams converted into gurgling struggles, then to nothing but low-pitched bubbling. The crowd I found myself in was now liquefied, not knowing that their own desperate thrashes aided in their own digestion. Their own struggles reduced to nothing more than an extra stomach churn. As I writhe in my own personal torment, an oceanic current of grasping fingers all dig into me at once, making me one with the roiling ocean below. I feel my own limbs being separated from me as desperate claws grab at any solid object, ripping it apart in a futile attempt to remain alive. 

Feeling the hot ooze cling to my skin, my arms lose the muscle matter necessary to maintain my head over the scum-coated snot, causing me to slip underneath the surface permanently. The sounds of moaning develop an eerie undertone, like listening to someone drowning while alone with them in a pool. Though the air above was putrid and clinging, my lungs scream at me that I should be breathing it. Nothing makes sense at this point. I lose track of which way is up, barely able to move anything, while this stranger's puke weighs down an incredible pressure upon my body. The agony begins to wash away along with my outer layer of skin. I can't feel the stomach's churn, nor the grasping hands, nor even the stinging  bite of the acid. My only thoughts involve the need for air and how the stranger all around me is denying me that. My world finally shrinks to the size of my body, reducing me into a being of squirming panic while I grasp my throat with skeletal hands, feeling my final bubbles escape my shredded lips. Grunting, I know I have no choice but to breathe. Experiencing the flood of stranger's puke enter into my lungs, my inner spark begins to dim and I convulse in the ocean of digested matter, spending my last moments becoming one with it.

---

Letting out a long, drawn-out breath, Kazumi lays back upon her bed, rubbing her stomach. In the silence, if she holds her breath, she can hear the soft screams of the few remaining survivors within her, tingling her innards and imbuing her with a sense of total power. Licking her lips, she can't help but feel the need for a short nap. She sighs, knowing that the tingling won't really be there once she wakes up, nor will the screaming, but she digs her smiling face into the pillow anyway. Letting out a final belch, Kazumi drifts into unconsciousness, hoping her next indulgence will happen soon.