It was as if I had entered another world.
Surprisingly, despite the complete absence of natural light within the grotto of Jo's sealed shut mouth, I could see fairly well, though it was certainly still gloomy. For whatever fantastical reason; scientific enhancement of my sight through shrinking, magic, act of the Lord himself; I could see around me the wondrous and danger-fraught landscape of my new prison. Standing up in the middle of her tongue, where I had been funnelled upon being abruptly sucked into this alien place by my giantess captor, I was able to do a complete, slow turn, taking in with awe the mouth I thought by this point I knew so well.
It is often said that something very familiar to you can look completely different upon looking at it from a different perspective. This is true in a variety of situations, and perspective can either be physical or mental; take the famous drawing of the rabbit, which for so long would be seen by one as a rabbit, until one day, either by external influence or your own mind realising the difference subconsciously, the rabbit suddenly looks more like a duck. The same can be said of people; one could be best friends with a person for many years, and then see them from a different perspective and begin to move away from them, in some cases rapidly. The change in perspective, sometimes, can only be marginal; but the effects can be monumental. Certainly, this was true of Jo's mouth. For all the time I had been in this situation, and indeed before that, I had always gotten an outside view of her maw; thus, I had gotten habituated to seeing it from outside of her lips. Being inside, however, though all the parts of her mouth were the same, shifted the perspective dramatically, so much so that the place itself seemed almost alien to me.
For the most part, the edge of my new world ended at the great, curving barrier posed by Jo's infamous teeth; open slightly to reveal the red, equally slimy cheek and lip walls behind it, her teeth served as an imposing, if not formidable, barrier to my new prison. Around most of the mouth they curved; her huge, squareish, boulder-like molars, rising from the back of her mouth in upper and lower pairs marching towards the centre of her mouth, where eventually they became sharp, pointed canines, which looked as if they could easily impale by insubstantial body upon them, and then huge, square incisors at the front, hanging ominously over the smaller, thinner counterpart incisors in her lower jaw, before they became canines and then molars once more. All, of course, were even in the gloom coated in their signature yellow staining, with her incisors being the least stained (even so, they were still heavily stained compared to most sets of teeth) and the staining gradually getting worse as they got further into her maw. As I had noticed in the final descent, all of her teeth were also coated in various scummy patches of plaque, where bacteria and other such gunk had collected on the hard yet still slimy surface of her teeth as she slept. Indeed, her whole mouth, like everyone else's, had a humid, hot climate perfect for bacteria, and it being hours since she last brushed the little bastards were everywhere; now inside, I could see the evidence on her teeth, growing on her tongue and even on her soft, pink gums, the foothills of her mountainous teeth. More rarely, but usually slightly larger than the colonies of plaque, forlorn pieces of cereal stuck between her teeth, remnants of the breakfast she had devoured not minutes before.
The latter border of my new home, more scarily, was the great void at the back of her mouth, leading to her throat and her nose, guarded still by the fleshy protrusion of her uvula. Beyond that was the entrance to the rest of Jo's digestive tract, a fast track deep into her guts, as well as the great air bellows of her lungs and, in the opposite direction, the cramped, mucous-filled confines of her nose. God forbid I ever ended up disappearing down that gullet, as what lay beyond was certainly a one way trip to my acidic doom. It was a stark reminder of what would happen to me should I fail to survive my period inside Jo's oppressive mouth, and by extension my main motivation for staying strong; however bad it got inside the maw, it would be a picnic compared to what awaited me down in her belly.
Even with that contrast in mind, her mouth was no utopia. The hot, humid wind of her breath, that I had thought so rancid and awful when I was subjected to it, was only amplified in the dark confines of her sealed jaws. The air, being recycled from Jo's lungs, was, while breathable, thick as soup, swelteringly warm and humid beyond belief, like being in the middle of a jungle in the rainy season (ironically, Jo's mouth did have its own weather, in the form of saliva dripping constantly from the roof of her mouth to the ever-expanding pool of saliva in the bottom). The near unbearable climate within her maw was only made worse by the powerful, all-encompassing stench courtesy of the bacteria reigning supreme on every surface; Jo's stinking morning breath blown onto me outside her mouth only did it partial justice. The cloying stink of her morning breath, a unique smell so terrible that no odorous object on this earth is any comparison to it, was the base ingredient for this stinking concoction, layered by the stale, sour stench of her gooey saliva mixed with the warm milk she had consumed for breakfast, and the bitter, horrible reek of coffee that even on its own would have made Jo's breath vile. So terrible was it that it stung my nostrils and made my eyes water, and in my revulsion I could almost feel it settling on my body, like being covered in toxic sludge. Needless to say, it would take some getting used to.
Despite everything, however, the mouth was serene, calm in its inactivity. A major contribution to the otherworldly feeling I was experiencing was the way Jo's mouth muffled sounds from the outside world, and amplified sounds from within; my ears were filled with a symphony of sounds from deeper within her body as it went about its business of living. Most prevalently, I could hear the dull thumping of her powerful heart, far below me in her chest, furiously pumping blood to all areas of her body. I could also hear the great intake and outtake of air rushing, as it was presently, through her nose and down to her lungs, before going out the opposite direction again, and I could even hear, if only faintly, the bubbling and churning noises coming from deep down in the core of her body from her stomach, as it digested down her recent breakfast. Something about it was almost peaceful, listening to her body work around me as I stood within the calm, if horribly oppressive, otherworld of inside her mouth.
Jo, of course, wouldn't let my serenity last for long. It was time for her to welcome me to her mouth, giantess-style.
I slipped and fell flat on my back as the great muscle of her tongue, which had served as my platform through all my awestruck gazing, suddenly lifted up and smashed me against the slick, hard surface of her palate, squeezing me between the hard palate and the softer, more pillowy tongue like a homunculus sandwich. I felt myself sinking into the soft, rough surface of the latter as her taste buds moved back and forth underneath me, as if she was trying to leach any flavour out of me. My world shook as a massive "mmmmm" noise of satisfaction roared through the cavern, as Jo savoured whatever flavour I must've had. I felt more saliva gather around me, lubricating me further for easier movement and drenching me in the awful, warm slime that I had become so well acquainted with. Sure enough, I felt the great beast of a muscle move me across her palate, allowing me to free-fall for a split second and gasp in some thick, humid air before it slammed me into her more elastic left cheek wall, moving me quickly around it like she might a small sweet, or a piece of gum. I was dragged along the slimy surface by the voracious tongue, my face, soaking wet hair and other extremities dragged with it. It was not much different to sliding along a slip n' slide, except this surface was far warmer, far slimier, and I wasn't the one doing the sliding. I was but a morsel directed entirely by the whim of the titaness whose mouth I had been condemned to, and she was determined to give me the greatest welcome to it as she could. Soon, I found myself flying across her mouth to her other cheek, the surroundings a blur to me as I soared, adhered to the tip of her tongue like a particularly sticky stamp, through her maw and landing with a squelch on her other cheek wall, where the humiliating tasting process was continued. More hums of satisfaction rushed through the living grotto, making everything within (including myself) vibrate like the wings of a hummingbird in flight, and yet more disgusting saliva coated my tiny body in what I can only describe as an attempt on Jo's part to bring about the humiliating ending she described; drowning me in her spit. Eventually, mercifully, the tongue brought my thoroughly tasted body away from her cheek, and deposited me on a hard, bumpy surface. Thoroughly disoriented after my molestation by her tongue, I slowly looked around to try to grasp where I was; and then, I screamed in terror as I saw Jo's filthy, stained molars rushing towards me to crush me.
It is commonly thought that when you are about to, or feel as if you are about to, die your life flashes before your eyes. I can confirm, as someone who has experienced what I'd class as several jigs with Death himself, that this concept is entirely false. As Jo began what I came to discover was only lightly chewing me, I was only able to visualise one thing in my panic, and that was my cruel tormentress's malicious, grinning face.
My body was squashed against the slimy, uneven, diamond-hard surface of her upper molars, putting enough pressure on my body to cause discomfort and terror but not quite enough to completely eviscerate my puny form between her powerful jaws. This vice grip lessened and increased periodically as she essentially chewed me, and my body, softened by the coat of warm saliva and the enzymes trying in vain to break down my skin, squeezed with the pressure her disgusting teeth were putting on me. In my plight, I could picture my cruel co-worker's face in an expression of glee as she exerted her total dominance over me, fulfilling her wish to punish and humiliate me for my fantasies, literally chewing me like a toffee and toying with me. My resolve to survive saw me through, however, and as soon as the great compactor of her teeth parted and allowed me to move, I rolled frantically off the surface of her molar.
It would have been an excellent escape, had I not fallen straight into the pool of saliva.
My body submerged completely in the disgusting goo, and I forced my way back to the surface, gasping at the sweltering air like a drowning swimmer. Despite the pain in my limbs from exhaustion and my breathing coming close to wheezing like an asthmatic, I managed to wade across the chest-deep goo and climb back onto her tongue, flopping down on my stomach facing the great wall of her incisors, averting my gaze as suddenly the gates of her teeth and lips opened, letting the seemingly divine light of the morning capture the hellish, forsaken scene. I shivered as cold, yet refreshing air came in breezes into the wide open cavern, and looked into the outside world which was already, after five minutes of torture in the stinking, muggy, oppressive maw, looking like heaven on earth. However, rather than seeing the kitchen I had woken up in, my view was dominated by a mirror image; her wide open maw, teeth on show and tongue centre stage, with my bedraggled body astride it. It didn't take me long to realise what it was; in the latest and most humiliating act yet I was being forced to look at my own situation through her iPhone camera, my own tiny, exhausted body completely at the mercy of the disgusting cavern behind her lips. To put the cherry on the cake, this picture of utter subjugation and humiliation was, as before, immortalised in a blinding flash, as Jo took a picture of my situation as a trophy of sorts. The picture was followed up by one of her entire face, mouth still wide open and a tiny speck on her tongue marking my presence, a selfie of her and her little prisoner. But even though she had complete physical dominance over my tiny form, she had not, and would not, conquer my mind. My resolve, hardened by the trials I had already faced, was now iron, and despite all the humiliation and exhaustion I now had suffered I was not going to give up. Because giving up meant death.
As the mouth closed once again, leaving me (technically) alone in the gloom, I took in the welcome I had just experienced, and I set it aside. As far as I was concerned, it was five minutes down, twenty-three hours and fifty-five minutes to go.
Bring it on.