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Kat leisurely collected the loose clothes strewn across the ground. Someone hastily grabbing a bunch of abandoned belongings while checking for witnesses every which way always looked suspicious, so she exercised a disciplined nonchalance in her actions. Calmly collecting what might as well have been her own dropped possessions with a soft smirk never roused much attention. The issue of dealing with Isaiah’s things solved itself, his sparsely filled backpack just waiting to accept his jacket, shoes, jeans, everything he had. She felt the lump of his wallet in his back pants pocket, and pondered inspecting its contents. Of course, she shrugged off the idea. Best not to leave too many prints.

Her right cheek bulged out, pressing the boy into the well of her gums with her tongue. Sometimes she had to focus to recognize what side she was actively tasting, though as her efforts bore fruit the telltale bend of his limbs and the funny texture of male genitalia informed her performance.

She chuckled behind pursed lips, closing the notebook on the table. The pages up until the final dozen or so were worn from use and bore hundreds of notes. Shutting those pages and stuffing them into the bag closed the page on nearly two years of research Kat would never know a thing about. Likely it’d have been a quaint read; but again, fingerprints.

Besides, if she wanted to learn more about what he was up to, she’d get the chance to ask later. Swinging her new bag over her right shoulder, her left hand sheathed in her pocket, she set off from the picnic table. Not a trace of either person visiting the little rest area, save for the imperceptible scuffs of dirt on the gravel path.

As expected, no one had seen her. So deep in the treeline, no pedestrians beyond the park had a view of them, and those within went about their own business with little regard for the other inhabitants. No one paid much mind to their surroundings in the city, unless there was noise. Kat made sure the boy now flipping into her other cheek made none at all. Not for lack of protest, his adorable limbs pushing dumbly into her tongue even now. She grinned inwardly, deftly sweeping the muscle under to bring him back to the center of her mouth to suck against her hard palate again. Crossing into the streets, the traffic noise and shops drowned out any chance of someone hearing the smallest of muffled cries behind her lips. Even in the brief moments she’d smack them and allow his shouts to reach the open night air unimpeded, the puny sound didn’t carry.

He was all hers. A pleased hum vibrated the contents of her mouth, eliciting an excitable scramble from her friend.

Straight away, she was back to people-watching. Rejoining the milling crowds that moved every which way to any number of evening plans. Her tasting became passive, letting impulse dictate her snack’s treatment in her mouth while her imagination lent itself to the pedestrians. None of them knew the danger amongst them, and the notion always left her with a joyful flutter in her gut. Music and ceaseless conversations dominated the soundscape all around, the honking of car horns and beeping crosswalk alerts contributing as well to how little she could hear Isaiah. His shouts were nothing compared to the outside world, a notion that earned a tiny-bouncing chuckle from her.

Stopping at a light, she had her eyes set on a mom-and-pop coffee shop; her destination. Standing still on the sidewalk with half a dozen others, the ache in her calves reminded her of the fatigue she’d been pushing through. A latte was just what she needed, maybe a scone too. The thought contributed heavily to the fresh slurry of saliva her mouth produced while already dealing with her current snack. The cars carried on, spending more of her patience as she willed the crosswalk signal to turn.

Then, her eyes bulged. She almost swallowed her morsel right there, though decided against it. Once the light turned, she hopped into the street and hustled across straight for a slightly older couple sitting at a bench just ahead. They were enjoying a salad together, the woman smirking at something he’d said through chewing her mouthful while her man lowered a bowl to the ground. The corgi nestled between the two pairs of legs gratefully dove its snout into the water being offered, slurping cutely while the couple ate.

Kat only had eyes for the dog, reaching the bench in a matter of moments before stopping just a few feet away. She smiled impishly while her tongue pushed Isaiah into her right cheek like a wad of gum. “H-hi! Sorry to bother you.”

She had their attention, the average but friendly-looking guy turning to the pleasant surprise of this strange girl approaching them.

Kat was used to this reaction. Still, it wasn’t his attention she wanted, “Um, do you mind if I pet your dog?” She asked with a shy tilt to her voice, grinning apologetically.

The man understood immediately, part of him maybe even expecting it as the norm, “Uh, yeah! She’s really friendly. Aren’t’cha, boofy!”

He reached a hand down and scratched the dog’s forehead, who by now had turned up to smile at the curious stranger. Kat gleefully shook, kneeling down gently to get a closer feel of the animal.

“She’s soooo cute!” her tone of voice was uncharacteristically high. Perhaps the man now squeezed between her lower gums and cheek flesh would’ve found it ironic that the merciless kidnapper and potential cannibal was so endearingly delighted to meet a dog of all things.

“What’s her name?” she asked, hand busy scratching the side of the dog’s fluffy cheek.

“Hilda!” her owner grinned, his partner leaning in to contribute, “She’s a purebred, only two years old.”

“Oh hell yea!” Kat beamed. “So she’s just a puppy still? That’s so cool.” Her hand reached under the smiling pooch’s chin, seeing its eyes close from her attentive care, “Like, she’s seriously cute as all hell. You think of having her compete at all?” She asked genuinely, shifting Isaiah to her other cheek in the meantime. His scream went unheard.

“Huh, not really. Why, you know someone who could set that up?” he chuckled, humoring the idea with mild sincerity.

Kat chuckled, “Nah! Just seems like one of those competition dogs, or whatever.” She wasn’t too invested in what they were saying, just rubbing her thumb and fingers lovingly around Hilda’s eager ears. The corgi thoroughly enjoyed the care, and offered a few stray licks as a thank you.

Katarina gasped, a rare instant where Isaiah nearly slid out of her mouth until bumping into her not quite parted jaws. Her tongue quickly stashed him back where he wouldn’t bother her speech.

She stood back up, the dog’s eyes eagerly following her new friend’s rise before she spoke bashfully, “Thanks! Really needed that, I’ll leave ya be!”

“Heh, no problem at all,” the man chuckled. His girlfriend or wife reached a hand down to pet the corgi as well, noting its disappointment seeing Kat turn to go, “Have a nice night.”

“Thanks. You as well,” she grinned, heading back on her route to the coffee shop. Turning her head back forward, the friendly smirk lingered on her lips for quite some time while continuing through the crowd another block. She wondered how much Isaiah had heard, wondering whether she should ask him while he was directly available. Ultimately she shrugged, sliding him under her tongue for some more playful probing. She’d get his perspective in just a little bit anyway.

The bell affixed to the glass door jingled as she entered, only a small handful of customers were around, likely following the afterwork rush. The warm artisanal lighting cloaked the establishment in a roasted hue, along with dark browns and beiges that any aspiring coffee shop would die for. A beatnik’s wet dream, if Kat had to put a name to it. Not too long of a line either as she approached the counter behind three others waiting for the barista to take their order.

This gave her plenty of time to check the menu, along with the display case of various pastries and treats. She was partial to something with a bit of protein in the mix, then chuckled inwardly. Of course she already had that nutritional base covered. She squeezed the young man against her front teeth to emphasize her own point. Bringing a finger to her lips, she eyed the scones instead, like she’d considered earlier. Something with a bit of jelly wouldn’t be the worst thing for her diet. As long as she was already missing the gym, might as well call this a full cheat day.

The barista had returned, taking the front of line customer’s order. Kat moved on to ponder which drink might compliment the flavor of her prey’s cum best. He hadn’t climaxed yet, so she could only guess how it’d taste coming out. She figured he’d offer the usual earthy, salty blend of a young man not taking the best care of his body. Some sweetness would compensate fine enough, though she grimaced at the hypothetical addition of more sugar to today’s diet.

By habit, she pulled out her phone to check her notifications. A few twitter pings she could ignore, one work email, but what got her notice was a text from Taylor. Sliding the icon across her phone screen, it jumped to her messenger app where an image popped up of Taylor at a bench press. Across the middle was a caption that read: *Missing my favorite spotter*

Kat almost snorted. For such an Adonis, he always acted like a dork. She still smiled fondly, flipping her snack back onto her tongue to get a few affectionate suckles out of him. Her response was quick, since he’d evidently messaged her ten minutes prior.

*Sucks bro. Want anything from the Grind?*

As she hit send, she wondered if it came off as too harsh. The two people in front of her, a couple as it turned out, started taking their order. Taylor had until she got to the register to get an order in. At the same time she established this innocuous time limit, she figured she’d set the same countdown for her little mouthful. After all, there was less noise in the pleasantly atmospheric coffee shop. Once she needed to speak to place her order, she’d risk his puny little cries being heard.

Her tongue pulsed with livelier vigor, rubbing his front side incessantly. There was something else she needed from him before the couple finished paying. She crossed her arms, for the first time in a while closing her eyes to focus her full attention on the poor Isaiah. His arousal was obvious, she felt it barely dimple the center crease of her eager tongue. Her pace slowed, then picked up, then calmed, urging him with varying levels of intensity to reach his peak. She imagined his long, soggy hair either sticking to his head or slapping the needful flesh. The pained expression on his face as he was pushed closer to a place his head didn’t want to go. He had no choice. His body was hers, inside and out, ever since she spotted him in the park.

An imperceptible blush came to her cheeks, glowing with her secret smile in the middle of the coffee house. She wanted it, almost to the point her breath picked up in speed. A fluttering warmth washed up her spine from her loins, shifting her thighs together in a way that could’ve been seen as someone changing their posture. He was close, she knew it. He had to be, and she’d get what was hers. He’d shifted his way back until pressing against her soft palate. She was ready to send him off as soon as he gave in.


And there it was. She smiled, slowing her tongue to mull over the unique flavor of his climax. Kat sighed fully, opening her bright eyes and meeting the barista’s expectant stare. The fit girl smiled and stepped forward to the counter. Deftly, her throat flexed as a small gulp cleared the contents of her mouth. She smacked her lips and exhaled, the tension easing out in moments.


Isaiah’s heart and lungs were pounding, his seed milked and thoroughly diluted by the greedy taste buds and drool. The lulling ground was in stark contrast the vicious abuse he’d endured, his spinning head only just finding some awareness of which way was up before gravity began to shift. A heavy sweep of thick, pruning saliva now carried him over the precipice he’d forgotten to fear until he was already sliding into a narrow pocket of boney flesh. A fat slab of meat dragged across the length of his body in an instant as the crevasse he was now deposited into briefly expanded, then collapsed around him all at once.

A dull, squashing boom rocketed him into a new realm of tight, oppressive muscles. He hadn’t had any chance to breathe before the world squeezed him into an impossible vacuum seal. He squirmed as much as he could, a powerful throbbing urging him and the gallons of slime deeper into the narrow hose he was being worked through like a glob of paste. Through the direct sound of unrelenting flesh forcing itself against his earlobes, he could make out the single trace of humanity left in this cruel, hellish place: the calm pulse resounding just a few feet away that barely shook his prison.

As it faded, realization set in: the dream had become a nightmare. All too visceral for him to take lightly any longer when his legs finally popped through a bone-crushing seal into an open room. He squirmed fiercely, desperate for the leg room until he understood what it meant. Desperately, he pushed his hands and elbows into the hungry walls, praying to stop his descent into the chamber below.

No such miracle would reward his efforts, the body effortlessly squeezing him through the eager orifice with a sloppy squelch. He was in freefall for just a second until his legs bumped into a bulk of flesh, awkwardly flipping his upper body around to lead the drop into the organ. His back hit the squishy floor, sliding the rest of the way into a shallow pool of thick slobber.

Granted, his arms were now free, it still demanded significant effort for Isaiah to pull himself from the slime that coated his body every time he wiped it away. Once he could rise and finally wipe the scum from his clenched eyes, he tried opening them to see his prison. Of course, he couldn’t clear the slime entirely, getting it in his eyes and causing them to sting. He cried out, turning onto his knees and grabbing his face painfully. All the while, the random pulsating walls throbbed around, over, and under him, sensing a new morsel to close in on…


“Sorry, hi,” she cooly greeted the cashier, who in turn returned their best customer service smile.

“No problem! What’ll it be?”

“Uhhhmmm…” she started, resting her left hand on the counter while looking back to the display case, “I’ll take a lemon scone, aaaand an iced caramel macchiato. Medium! With two hits of hazelnut?”

“Of course! Anything else?” the barista inquired, writing down her order on a freshly procured transparent cup.

“Hmm, hold on,” Kat pulled her phone out again, checking if Taylor had responded yet. Unfortunately no. She grimaced, making the call, “Yeah, that’s all. Under Kat.”

“Cool! That’ll be thirteen seventy-nine,” the girl informed, chirping brightly as the charge went through, “would you like a receipt?”

“No thanks,” Kat had been so focused on her order, she’d ignored how adorable the petite Filipino girl taking it was. Her dark hair was pulled in a smart ponytail, with two expertly arranged strands of wavy hair framing her babyish face. Dark, enthusiastic eyes met Kat’s, and she swore she could almost taste this girl’s energy.

“E-everything okay, Miss?” the girl asked, noting her prolonged gaze.

Though a primal voice in her mind told her to go for it, she instead smiled and thanked her for the service. Tonight at least, she was already spoken for. There was a seat by a window near the back that would satisfy her people-watching habit while waiting on her order. Her destination set, her attention turned to the now physically realized fluttering in her chest. Or rather, a few inches down to the left of her chest, where the smallest blips of force barely reached the nerves that were mainly designed to sense external stimulus.

She mechanically sat down, relishing the minuscule pitter-patter behind her midriff while not trying to disturb its source. Shutting her eyes, she pictured the darkness surrounding her prey. Hot, dank, slimy walls pulsating with her heartbeat and breath. A symphony of her inner being more than capable of cutting off its prisoner from the outside world. Her hand absentmindedly found her abdomen and gently brushed her fingers across the light fabric of her top.

A buzz from her jacket pocket pulled her from her fantasy. She quickly intuited the source of the ping, retrieving her phone to find the response from her current long-term boy-toy. Kat smirked reading his text: *white mocha Espresso! And 1 of those sausage croissant things*

Pondering whether to tell him he missed his chance or not, she opted not to reply and returned her phone to her jacket. Her mind was back on her guest. It’d only been five minutes since he’d taken the plunge. Had he realized yet what had happened? The thought tickled her, and a series of follow-up questions followed.

How inhuman it must be to find yourself surrounded by the side of someone no living soul was meant to see? What was Isaiah thinking? Did he still think this was a dream? When would the pin drop and reality set in?

She hadn’t pulled her hand from her pocket yet, fingers flitting around a strange bulk. She was mulling whether it was time for her call. Eventually, she decided to wait on her order. Would help things go down smoothly, anyway.

So she waited, watching pedestrians go by, imagining their lives, their tastes, and how long it would take to break them each in turn. No one minded a cool young woman abstractly eyeing them as they passed. No one the wiser about what she’d done, what was happening inside her right this second, what would continue far into the future to the best of her ability.

“Order for Kat!”

Once again pulled from her reverie, she stood to grab her coffee and scone, the path from the counter back to her little nook happened in a haze, her quiet excitement smoothly carrying her moment to moment. Soon she was back, cozy in her padded chair against the window. The faint neon sign above her faced out and pleasingly illuminated the twilight crowd.

Now was the time, her hand pulling out an odd leather pouch with a snap-button clasp from her jacket. Popping it open and flipping the lid over, she pulled out an earbuds case. Opening the container, she removed just the one piece for her right ear and placed it delicately behind her hair. That in place, she brought the left piece to her lips. Again, making a big deal over an odd habit and cautiously looking around only drew attention. As if it were the most normal thing in the world, she pushed the bud between her lips like a cough drop, setting it on her tongue with routine ease.

She reached for her coffee, bringing it up to her lips while mentally bracing herself for the less malleable of the two odd morsels she was ingesting tonight. The sweet icy drink poured into her mouth, flowing smoothly over her tongue and carrying the earbud along until it all gathered at the back of her throat. Kat grimaced, letting it all fall past her epiglottis and finally swallowing. It rolled down her lithe throat in a thick, blocky lump before settling further in her system.

Katarina sighed, looking back to the sidewalk and losing herself in thought. She’d give Isaiah another five minutes to settle before making the call.


A roiling groan lurched the ground beneath him once again, the unfathomably huge organism containing his feeble body had just walked to and back from someplace and had now sat back down. She had sat back down, this walking, gurgling behemoth of a woman. Isaiah couldn’t even see the surging slope of rugae push out until he’d already fallen face-first into it. The darkness remained constant with no light possibly capable of breaching the thick layers of muscle, blood vessels, and skin that hid him from the world.

While his sight failed him, every other sense worked overtime to process his hellish surroundings. Sloppy mucus webbed between his fingers as he hastily tried wiping away the disgusting muck from his face again. Slime constantly clogged his nose and mouth, constantly demanding expulsion or risk forcing itself to be ingested. The boy didn’t know how much more he could stomach, literally or figuratively.

A fresh wave of juices squirted onto him from the wall, hot and thick, clinging to his arms while he cried out into the blackness. This dream he’d found himself in was beyond real now. The emotional exhaustion in his head threatened to have his struggling body fail on him. The only thing keeping him afloat among the churning folds was a general refusal to stop moving. If he stopped, the nightmare would claim him; or so he feared. Just moving was enough to keep his sanity, especially since his voice did him no good crying out into the unfeeling void.

“Heeeeeelp!! Somebody fucking get down here!!! HEEEEEEEY!!!”

There was a guttural sound far above, as if in answer to his plea. Seconds ticked by, and he feared the noise that started as a soft trickle from overhead. In an instant, a downpour of freezing, sugary liquid splashed down from the stomach entrance. The spray crashed into him, forcing the boy between two pronounced stomach folds while the liquid continued to settle. His nerves were instantly shocked, tensing on impact while they braced against the attack. Soon enough, the pool at the base of the gut had deepened, now substantial enough that its surface lapped at Isaiah’s feet even this far to the wall.

The giant was drinking, and unfortunately, that meant more would follow. Sure enough, the same disheartening gulps resounded from above, in faster sequence, flushing more gallons upon gallons of what he could somewhat identify as coffee down to join his torment. Though there must have been something more to what she was ingesting since something with more weight and bulk popped through the portal above, landing with a thick splat across from Isaiah. When the torrent ceased, the water level had risen.

Still, after the initial shock of the colder fluids, he found that the new company came as a much-needed relief from the grueling heat. Even with the brief reprieve, the pool already began absorbing the body’s natural heat, soon to return some equilibrium to the digestive slurry.

Once again, Isaiah was left to ponder his situation while the tumult momentarily quieted down. The walls still passively flexed and churned, but while she sat he had time to hold himself to the graspable folds in the stomach wall.

“Th-th-this doesn’t make any… s-sense…” If this was still his dream, and he still retained some agency, then why hadn’t he just moved on to the next scene? The pleasure he’d experienced in her mouth, albeit against his will, was a long-forgotten memory compared to the current stage of his hallucination. In his head, he knew he had to contact her. He’d tried hitting the walls to get her attention, crying out her name, or to anyone that could hear. Surely there had to be some link to the outside world!

Unless this was it. Whatever this dream was, it had reduced him to some girl’s food. Each grueling, visceral detail amounted to making him feel smaller than he’d ever felt in life. He slumped against the wall, quietly agonizing the cruel joke this all was. He’d wake up soon, and when he did, he’d have a lot to bring up at his next therapy session.

He just needed a way out. He would take anything, any lifeline that would help him escape this retched, boiling pit.


He froze, a small green blink had briefly illuminated the stomach walls. Only a dim light, but enough that for an instant the curling, oozing walls were visible to satisfy morbid curiosity. Their shape was grotesque, like something out of a Giger film. With the chamber already returned to darkness, the afterimage burned into his mental conception of the stomach. A shiver rolled up his spine, clenching his hands tighter to the pliant folds.


Again, another green flash, coming from the opposite end of the stomach. This follow-up glimpse of his surroundings allowed less room for mental gymnastics, providing a clearer image of what his room really looked like. More importantly, how to navigate it.

Because whatever was beeping in the middle of a human stomach was worth investigating further. Cautiously, he released his grip on the stomach wall and slid down the short incline into the building pool of coffee and drool. Wading through the thick, gently sloshing pond proved easier with the mix of fresh liquids to the mix. He wound up reaching the other end of the stomach just before the next beep went off.

As it did, he discovered its source: an earpiece. Like an air pod, or some kind of bluetooth device, left on its own in the stomach. He looked around, was there another? Was this the strange solid he’d heard splatter into the organ with the coffee? Why would someone eat, no, drink a wireless earbud?

It blinked again, an insistent beep drawing him in closer. The dream had taken a dark turn, no question; but maybe this surreal development was the escape he prayed for.

The small speaker in the thicker end of the bud suddenly scratched, causing him to hop back a bit while the light now decided to remain on. From the speaker, a feed began playing. Isaiah crawled closer to investigate.

*“....Hello? Ya there dude?”*

It couldn’t be. He picked up his hands and knees and hustled immediately to grab the pod. It was nearly as long as him, but turning it over to face up allowed him to cling onto it while pulling himself closer to the speaker, “YES! Yes, I’m here! Who is this?”

The mystery voice chuckled, a percussive burst of air bounding in the airways far beyond the stomach, *“Cool! Still here, how was the ride little guy?”*

He froze, a deathly weight squeezing his weary chest as he recognized the voice. More than that, he heard its source echo through the pod while it resounded through the body, heavily muffled to his ears but made clear through the speaker.

“N-no way… how did you-?”

*“Told you, that’s classified,”* he could hear her snicker from both ends.

“Bullshit! You’re gonna tell me what’s going on right now!!”

*“Ugh, relax man,”* his kidnapper chided, *“It’s just my way of staying connected with you guys. Made it myself; totally waterproof, pretty much works as a two-way walkie-talkie.”*

“But why- how-!?... WHY DID YOU EAT ME!?”

*“Hehe, oops?”* he could practically see her mocking expression over the line, *“Guess I got carried away. Happens when I get… intimate~”*


*“Uh uh uh!”* she tutted over the line, *“First things first… the coffee’s not too cold, is it?”*

Her response stunned him, the casual question seeming so removed from his alien circumstance, “Uh… it’s fine?”

*“Cool! Cause there’s more where that came from!”*

Before he could ask what she meant, he vaguely heard another slurp followed by a gulp high above. He quickly understood her meaning when a new downpour of iced coffee pelted him and the speaker again. The bud threatened to pull away with the stream, but he held tightly to it. His last lifeline to his captor and potential savior.

The coffee stopped, and Isaiah heard a crisp, satisfied exhale over the call, *“Ahh~ Really needed this… and you, for that matter.”*

Her banal attitude was starting to rub him the wrong way. His fists clenched around the stem of the bud, gritting his teeth before he spoke, “C’mon Kat! This isn’t funny, at all! Why are you doing anything BUT getting me out right now!?”

There was no answer for a few moments, he imagined her contemplating, *“Hmmm… why should I?”*


*“Easy. I saw you, you looked tasty, so I grabbed a bite on my walk. Something wrong with that?”*

“Y-YES!! This is awful! What kind of sick fuck does this to someone?”

Her chuckle stirred the heightened pool of juices splashing at his feet, *“What happened to this being a dream?”*

His head boiled, unsure whether she was just teasing him or actually reminding him of the pure ridiculousness of his predicament, “E-even so! This is too much, you gotta get me out of here!”

The body shuddered, as if her posture drooped all at once, *“Mhm… so is this all you’re gonna be talking about?”

“W-what?” he stared desperately into the speaker as if it was the face of the person he was appealing to.

Evidently, they weren’t impressed, *“Look, I’m not too interested in chatting if you’re just gonna be a buzzkill.”*

“N-no! Spit me out! NOW!! I don’t want to be here anymore, I don’t want-!!”

*“Ugh, fine then! Apologies in advance for the scone.”*

And like that, the green light faded, the absence of its dim glow returning the chamber to utter darkness, leaving Isaiah all alone again clutching the dormant earpiece.

“No… no no no no! HEY!! KAT! You can’t leave me in here!” he strangled the pod, banging it into the squishy floor defiantly as if torturing this meager possession of hers would get the giant’s attention.


A gulp resonated through the alimentary canal, warning Isaiah that he was about to have some company. Bracing himself for another pour of coffee, he was shocked to hear a much more sickly squelch from the sphincter before a mushy wad of bolus dropped directly on top of him. The recently shredded mass broke apart on his shoulders and back, splitting into smaller chunks that slopped to the floor and slid down toward the frothing pool.

Isaiah gagged, some of the chewed food getting into his mouth. Around the familiar thickness of the drool in the mix, he tasted traces of sugar and something bread-based. It occurred to him she’d mentioned a scone.

He threw his head back, crying up into the ceiling as another swallow rang above, the harbinger of more fodder to the ever-growing pile of mush he was left to stew with indefinitely…
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