Short Story(Giantess Vore)

[HTVoid]

So, this is the first vore story I wrote. I don’t have a lot of experience writing erotic stuff (or even just fiction, really), but I decided to give it a shot. I kind of struggled a bit with the story’s tone. I didn’t know whether to make it serious or not, to focus on creating a compelling narrative or jumping straight into the kinky stuff, make it shorter, longer…so the end result might be a little messy. But let me know what you think, any critiques are welcome.


1-

Lilly was tall. She was born with a world-record height of fifty inches, and from there, her growth was nothing short of explosive. At five, she was six feet tall, at ten, twelve feet, and by that time, the media had already picked up on the anomaly living in a small Florida town and was turning her into a celebrity. The town of Quag Pass—previously known for its locally-brewed blinding moonshine—became a tourist spot in America as thousands of people came from all over the world, hoping for a peek at the giant girl.

Lilly’s parents—former meth dealers (allegedly)—wasted no time capitalizing on their daughter’s fame: private meetups, interviews, advertisements, sponsorships, and photo sessions became a part of the girl’s life. Homeschooled, she had a flexible schedule that allowed her to work as much as both her parents combined.

At fifteen, at a whopping forty feet, Lilly had already made appearances in most—if not all—of the nation’s talk shows, had starred in a movie—which she admits is god awful—and had even shaken hands with a U.S. president.

She stabilized at around sixty feet, a height she reached at seventeen. And now, four years later, her fame is much diminished. As her growth decreased, so did the media’s interest. Both her Instagram and Twitter accounts still had followers in the six digits, and many people came to Quag Pass to have their picture taken on her shoulder. But, there weren’t any news vans parked in front of her house, and there weren’t any more invitations to star in shitty movies or reality television shows.

Life went on.

Except that in Lilly’s case, it didn’t. She was frozen in time, doing the same thing she had been doing her entire life: cashing in on being a giantess. She could’ve tried making more movies, or worked on an online college degree, got a real job (even if she had to work from her custom-sized house). But, here she was, in Quag Pass, taking photos with strangers on her shoulder.

There was a reason for this stagnancy: Richard Mallister, or Rick to most of the townsfolk.

Managers, agents, fans, and even her parents—currently retired and living in Hawaii—came and went like a tide. But not Rick, his handsome face had always been a constant in her life, and somewhere between the twelve years they knew each other, Lilly fell in love.

The feeling wasn’t reciprocated (either love or friendship), but Lilly failed to see that. And so she stayed in Quag Pass, content to see Rick every day and maybe, if luck smiled, spend a little time with him.

Stagnant or not, though, her life wasn’t bad. She had plenty of money, enough that the bank interest alone covered all her expenses: including the massive amount of food she needed to consume daily. And although she really didn’t have any friends (outside of Rick), the people of Quag Pass always treated her kindly. Besides, when horniness struck, there was still Pornhub and her fingers.

2-

Lilly knew something was wrong when her phone started ringing at two in the morning. Outside of an emergency, there was no conceivable reason for anyone to call her at this hour. The caller ID read: RICK, and as she answered the phone, his panicked breathing came through the other side of the line.

“Lilly? Lilly, you there?”

She yawned and rubbed her eyes. “Rick? What’s wrong?”

“You home?”

“Rick—”

“I’m at your door. Hurry.”

“Oh God,” she moaned as she got out of bed. If Rick was at her door, then that meant there had been yet another accident—it would be the fourth time. She reached her front door and opened it. Rick was there, red-cheeked and panting. He was shirtless and dragging a huge (for his standards) bag behind him. “Hurry,” he cried. “Help me get this in, for fuck sake.”

Lilly easily pushed the bag into her house and closed the door. She sat down to be closer to Rick’s eye level. “Rick, what’s going on?” She pointed at the large black bag. “Please don’t tell me it’s another accident.”

Rick gave her an apologetic smile. “Yeah, it was…I’m sorry.”

“And you’re sure you shouldn’t call sheriff Miles this time?”

“C’mon, Lilly, you know the guy hates me. If we call him, he’ll just say I killed the dude and then toss me in jail.”

It was true, she reasoned. Sheriff Miles did seem to have it out for Rick. Once the sheriff even came to Lilly’s house to trash him, claiming Rick was involved in drug dealing, cozy with cartels and carrying out hits and such. Nonsense, of course, she knew Rick since they were kids, he’d never hurt a fly.

Carefully, Lilly managed to pinch the black bag’s tiny zipper between her nails and began opening it. The guy inside was dead, alright—there was a hole right between his eyes. “How did this happen?”

Rick scratched his head, hesitated for a little while, then found his voice. “His name’s Ronan, he’s a friend of mine, and tonight we had some beers, and he decided to show a trick with his gun. So he pulled out his pistol, but he was way too drunk to do it right, and it slipped outta his hand. When the pistol fell on the ground, it went off, and the bullet hit him right between the eyes.” After a small pause, he added, “Poor Ronan.”

Lilly picked up Ronan’s body and brought it close to her eyes. Yep, the hole on his forehead did look the right size for a bullet—Rick was telling the truth. The poor guy just didn’t seem to catch a break. First, there was the hooker that slipped and fell, breaking her neck in the process. Then there was the guy that was teaching Rick how to tie a tie. He apparently did something weird with the knot and ended up choking himself. Then there was the other dude that was trying to remove a tick from his neck with a knife and ended up slitting his own throat.

And every time poor Rick was near these people when they kicked the bucket, she thought, knowing that if sheriff Miles weren’t such an asshole, Rick would do the right thing and call the police. But that wasn’t the case. His only option was to seek out her help. And she did help him, of course, she did—it wasn’t as if she was hurting anyone. These folks were already dead; they wouldn’t mind if she dissolved their remains.

Lilly adjusted Ronan’s body in her grip. He was mostly skin and bones, would slide down easily, bald too, that was a huge plus. That first time Rick asked her for help—when she disposed of the hooker—she spent two days plucking hair strands out of her mouth.

She walked to her kitchen and threw some butter on a frying pan, heating it until it melted. Then she tossed in Ronan with the butter and made sure he was oiled up. Grabbing her chopsticks, she plucked the dead guy from the frying pan and emptied her mind of everything.

One deep breath, two, and Lilly opened her mouth as wide as she could.

Into that cave Ronan went.

For all her size, Lilly was still technically a human being, it wasn’t in her nature to swallow things whole. Part of her was tempted to chomp down on Ronan’s body, chewing it until it became paste—easy to gulp and even easier to digest. That wouldn’t do, though. Fighting those instincts, she shoved Ronan deeper, wanting him to arrive in her belly in one piece.

His head was now past her uvula and was ready to enter her gullet. Lilly tilted her head upwards and swallowed, feeling her throat close around his shoulders. Another swallow and Ronan’s chest reached her esophagus. One more gulp: Ronan’s toes were safely resting on her tongue.

She could finally close her mouth again; Ronan was inside of her. Lilly swallowed one last time, the pressure on her neck easing as her body took over and helped Ronan find his way to her stomach.

Lilly burped. Her cheeks turned a deep crimson. “Shit, I’m sorry. It’s just that a lot of air went inside with him.”

Rick laughed. “Don’t sweat it. Just glad it’s over.”

“Yeah,” she answered, feeling her bloated belly. There was still a substantial amount of chocolate cake, coke, and cheese still being digested in there, and now she had added a hundred pounds of meat into the mix.

“Do you wanna sleep here tonight?” she asked Rick.

“Nah. I gotta get home, but thanks again. Saved my life.”

She glared at him. “Fine, but you need to be careful. You walk around with hookers and people with knives and guns, of course, is gonna be trouble. One of these days sheriff Miles might catch you, and there’ll be nothing I can do to help you, you know.”

“I know, I’m sorry. Thanks again. Love you,” Rick said as he left her house.

Alone once more, Lilly washed her frying pan and went back to her bedroom. She could feel her stomach roiling as she laid down again. “Uuuurpp,” she let out into the night, hoping Rick and his friends would learn how to be careful.

She shifted in bed.

Her belly gurgled.

And another pocket of gas rose out of her depths.

Using her stomach to get rid of ‘accidents’ had been Rick’s idea. He got it from watching Breaking Bad and by seeing her eat a whole pig in one bite.

“It’s not really eating, you see,” he had explained that first night when he brought the body of a dead hooker to her house. “When you eat, you chew things, right? You ain’t gonna eat her, you just gonna shove her into your stomach and dissolve her, easy peasy.” He had even explained how this was better for the environment than burying or burning a body. In the end, she would be helping her love and Mother Earth.

But always after Rick left, when she was alone in bed, hearing her gut working on transforming a human being into fertilizer, the guilt came. It wasn’t too hard to imagine that the sounds coming from beneath her skin were the product of someone fighting for their life. As if they revived inside her, waking up in her stomach and trying to find a way out.

She even had nightmares about it. Sometimes, in the dreams, the person inside her would scream, pleading with her to let them out. And she would try to help them, shoving her fingers down her throat, but nothing would come out. The screaming would go on throughout the night.

In another dream—one she had after gobbling the second guy Rick brought her—the person came out alive from her southern exit. She was squatting down, nether cheeks wide apart, and a head would poke out of the hole at the configuration’s center.

“I’ll see you rot in prison for this!” the head would scream.

Scared of the threat, Lilly’s would slurp the poor fucker back inside. Time would pass in her dream, and the next time she took a squat, two people were trying to escape her ass, desperately poking their heads out for a breath of fresh air. Shlup! Back in they went. Next day: three people would be vying for a way out of her rectum. None would succeed. Then four people, five, a dozen, on and on until their tiny hands managed to work in concert to pry her sphincter apart. At which time she awoke sweating, her heart lodged in her throat.

“Just your imagination, girl,” she told herself, her eyelids beginning to droop. “He had a hole in his head.”

Lilly yawned, let one out from the lower end, and fell asleep.

3-

Lilly’s house was roughly the size of a football stadium. A large construction company had made it especially for her, for the small sum of zero dollars. The house, like her giant bed, and her giant silverware, and her giant table, and her giant phone, etc., etc., were advertisements, always given to her by some corporation’s PR team under flashing cameras.

Knowing that, it was easy to picture Lilly’s home as a soulless place, but it wasn’t. Ads or not, she treasured the few things she owned as if she had made them from scratch. And people picked up on those feelings: the house, and everything inside it, felt real, imbued with the giant girl’s spirit.

There was, however, something her house lacked: a bathroom. The people who built it said it just wasn’t possible to have a toilet that big. They would have to dig tunnels for the pipes, and the water bill would be monstrous. So she opted to walk to the woods near her place and squat over the small river running there. It had been a morning ritual since she was twelve.

But this morning was different.

Waiting outside her house was a police car. Leaning against it, drinking coffee, and reading today’s newspaper was sheriff Miles. He smiled and waved at her as she stepped outside. “Morning, Lilly!”

Something about his tone didn’t match the smile on his face. Lilly began feeling uneasy, her bowels tying up in a knot, which wasn’t good since they were full to the point of bursting. “M-Morning, sheriff.”

“Was wondering if we could have a talk, Lilly. Just you and me.”

“R-Right now? I k-kinda have to…do something.”

“S’alright. Will only take a minute.”

“Can’t it be later? I really need to go.”

The sheriff laughed. “You go on then. I’ll just wait here till you come back.”

“Y-You sure?”

“Yes. You go on now. I’ll be here reading the paper.”

The feeling of unease followed her the entire way to the woods, it hovered above her as she released her waste over the river’s current. For a time, she was tempted not to return home. How long would the sheriff wait for her? Maybe if she just went into town for a few hours, he would leave, and she could play dumb next time they met, say she forgot about him. But then this knot in her gut would keep tormenting her.

No, better to just talk to the sheriff and find out what he wants.

Her business done, Lilly pulled up her pants, steeled herself, and walked back home. True to his word, sheriff Miles was waiting for her.

“Hi, sheriff. What’s this about?” she asked, squatting to get closer to him.

He closed his newspaper and regarded her for a few seconds before saying: “Lilly…that river in the forest. Do you know where it goes?”

She swallowed hard. “I…No, I don’t. Why?”

“So you don’t know that it passes through town? That that river in the forest is the same that passes under the bridge on 2nd St.?”

And she had been using it as a bathroom throughout her whole life. In half-a-second, every drop of blood in Lilly’s body rushed to her face. “Oh, no. I’m so sorry. I had no idea! Oh God! I don’t—”

The sheriff chuckled and raised his palms. “Calm down. The entire forest uses that river as a toilet, and we know you use it too, that’s not the issue.”

She waited for him to continue. After a few seconds, he did: “See, Lilly, the issue is when a human skeleton is sighted floating down the river.”

And just like that, every drop of blood in Lilly’s body fled her face. “W-What?”

“Human skeletons…floating down the river…you know something ’bout them?”

Her brain reeled, working harder than it ever had to try and process the whole situation. The truth was, she had never checked to see if the bodies had been completely dissolved. She had always assumed they were. She ate bones all the time—someone of her size couldn’t taste fish or chicken unless they were served whole, even roasted pork she had a habit of gobbling up in one bite directly from a stick.

I do chew them, though, she thought.

Her lips parted, she wanted to say something, say anything, but no sound came out of her mouth. Miles stood in the same spot, leaning against his car and looking up at her. He lit a cigarette and took a drag, waiting to see if Lilly would say something. He exhaled a cloud of smoke. “I’m wondering, Lilly, will I get a call in about ten minutes ’bout human bones in the river?”

Probably, she thought, then said, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

The sheriff took a deep breath, pulled out his phone, and handed it to her. There was a photo on the screen, she squinted her eyes, but it was too small. “I can’t see it. What is it?”

He extended his hand, and she returned the phone. After messing with it for a few moments, he said: “I sent it to you.”

She picked up her own phone. Three pictures were arriving. The first one showed Rick and Ronan together, the former holding a gun, the latter on his knees. The second picture showed Rick pointing the gun at Ronan’s head, a bright light illuminating the muzzle. The third and last picture showed Rick stuffing Ronan’s body in the black bag.

“He told me it was an accident,” Lilly said through the lump forming in her throat. Inside her chest, vines of ice began wrapping around her heart.

How? How could he do this? Why? This wasn’t a little lie that you told a friend when you were late for a date, this was…She didn’t know what this was. Rick was a murderer. And I’m his accomplice, she thought. Stupid, stupid girl!

How could she be so dumb?

The sheriff shook his head and let more smoke into the air. “I told you, didn’t I? I came here and told you. It was the first time I got the call ’bout a skeleton. It wasn’t hard to put two and two together. We knew that whore sniffed more powder than she could afford, and we knew your little boyfriend was a fucking hitman.”

“He told me those were accidents,” she repeated, her voice barely managing to escape her lips.

“So you see the pickle I’m in?” he asked.

“Am I under arrest?”

The sheriff laughed. “And where would we put you? Get your head outta your ass, girl, not only the logistics of arresting would be way too complicated, but you’re sixty-percent of this town’s economy. Do you know what Quag Pass was before you came along?”

She shook her head.

“It was thirty rednecks making moonshine and poaching gators. Now, look at us! We’re a real fucking town. No, girl, I can’t arrest you. But because of you, I also can’t arrest Rick. If I bring him down, he brings you down. Do you see where I’m going with this?”

She shook her head again.

“Of course, you don’t.” He paused and let out an exasperated sigh. “Lilly, so far, Rick has only taken out scum. There have been no missing people reports, and I told the rest ’o the town the skeletons were just some kids pulling a prank. Thankfully, everyone bought it.

But that luck will run out. Sooner or later, it always does. The media will find out about it, and trust me: they won’t give two shits ’bout Rick. The only thing they will care about is the beautiful giant girl who eats people. And then we’re talking torches and pitchforks, the whole nine. You’ll probably be killed, and Quag Pass erased, and that’s something none of us want, right?”

Once more, she shook her head, a lump in her throat preventing her from speaking.

“That last guy Rick fed you? A scumbag like the others, won’t be missed. But the next one might be a different case, so please: don’t do it again. If Rick comes knocking, tell him to fuck off, for all our sakes.”

After that, sheriff Miles left.

For the rest of the day, Lilly cried, looking over and over at the pictures, wishing they would magically change into something else, or that her eyes would pick up on some detail that changed their context. But, no, they were what they were—irrefutable proof that Rick was a killer, and she was an accomplice.

I’m a B-movie monster, she thought, and then began wondering what people would do when they found out. Would they make a movie? A big Hollywood production where they could print out: Based on True Events in the opening credits.

But of course, those ‘True Events’ would be embellished.

In the movie, the people would still be alive and screaming as they made their way down her throat, and the studio would use special effects to show them melting in her stomach amid the bones of victims past. In the climax, she would swallow the lead actor’s love interest, and the film would end with her belly being cut open and the hero rescuing his love from the confines of her steaming guts, just like in Little Red Riding Hood.

Was that how things would end for her?

Maybe…

But not before getting some payback. Lilly felt something taking over her core and spreading throughout her whole body: anger, white-hot, and all-consuming. Fucking Rick. Playing her like that, she became a goddamned monster thinking she was saving his life, and in the end, it was just his job to kill those people. Lilly was just a convenient way to get rid of the evidence. Did he also know sheriff Miles would cover it up for her? Probably.

Fucking asshole.

But that was alright. If Rick wanted to turn her into a B-movie monster, then she would be a B-movie monster. Oh yes, he would learn not to fuck with her, in a one-time lesson she would dish out tonight.

As soon as the sun set, Lilly picked up her phone and texted him.

Rick, need to talk. URGENT. Sheriff Miles was here. Come to my place.

Then, with something that was half grin, half snarl, she sat and waited.


4-


After parking in Lilly’s driveway, Rick spent five minutes in his car, getting his anger under control. His mind looping the same thought over and over: What did that imbecile tell Miles? Since there was only one way to find out, he opened the door and stepped outside with a fake smile plastered on his face.

“Come in,” Lilly said after opening the door. It wasn’t the cheeriest welcome she’d ever given him; she looked pissed about something.

He pretended not to notice it and kept the smile on his face. “Hey, Lilly. What did that asshole want?”

Lilly slammed the door behind him, and for the first time ever, he was bothered by the fact that the handle was too high for him to reach, and he would only be able to leave once Lilly opened the door for him.

“Sheriff Miles came by to show me something.”

“What?”

She showed him her phone. “This.” On the screen was a photo of him shooting Ronan. “Care to explain?” she demanded, her voice cracking a bit. “Care to tell me how this was an ‘accident’? You fucking asshole!”

He thought of a quick way out. “What the hell is that picture? That never happened!”

“What?!”

“Lilly, listen to me, this is a fake picture. This is photoshopped. It never happened, I swear to you.”

She glared at him. “You think I’m an idiot, don’t you?”

“No!” he said, thinking, yes.

“The truth, Rick, now! I wanna hear from your mouth: the people I…the people I fucking ate…did you kill them?”

Lilly was too upset, too pissed. Arguing now would do no good. It was time to try a different approach: “I thought you knew me better than that, Lilly. But if you really think I’d be capable of murder, then I guess I got nothing more to say to you. I’m gonna leave now; you can call me again once you cool off.”

He turned his back to her and stood facing the door, hoping she would simply open it and this conversation would be over, but Lilly made no move to let him out.

“The door, Lilly, you know I can’t reach the handle. Mind opening it for me?”

“No.” Her tone could’ve frozen the sun.

He turned back to face her, the feeling of unease growing, turning into a bit of fear. “What did you say?”

“I said no, Rick. I may be complicit in what you did, but that doesn’t mean I’m gonna let you get away with it.”

“Open the door, Lilly.”

“No.”

“Let me out, Lilly. Right now!”

She made no move, just kept staring down at him, her face as cold as her tone had been.

“So what? You just gonna keep me here? I’m gonna have to live in your house now?”

“No.”

“Then what the fuck are you talking about, you stupid bitch?”

For the first time since Rick had entered her house, Lilly let out a little smile. “I’m going to eat you. I’m going to swallow you whole, just like I did with the people you killed.”

Before he could come up with a reply, Lilly bent down, picked him up like a Ken Doll, and then headed towards her kitchen. She tossed him onto the counter and opened the fridge, grabbing a giant-sized pot of butter.

Rick ran to the edge of the counter. There was a long way to the ground. He didn’t think a fall would be fatal, or even bone-breaking, but that didn’t matter—he wasn’t about to try running away and making an ass out of himself. He’d be damned if this moronic giant bimbo would get a rise out of him. He forced a chuckle out of his mouth. “So you gonna eat me, huh?”

Lilly tossed a spoonful of butter into her frying pan. “Yep.”

“Hilarious…Ha…Ha. You had your laugh, now put me down on the floor and open the door before I start to get pissed.”

She lit a match and turned on her old school gas oven.

“This isn’t funny, Lilly. Put me down and let me out. Now!”

On the frying pan, the butter began sizzling.

Rick’s mind still insisted that Lilly was merely an angry bitch putting on a show. It kept telling him to keep his pride and cool and let her vent off whatever was tickling her cooch. There was no way she would do something that could hurt him.

His instincts had other ideas: they were demanding he jump out of this fucking counter and run away as fast as his legs could carry him. He looked at Lilly’s face again, trying to detect any emotion there, but finding nothing.

Fuck this, he thought, then jumped from the counter.

His landing was awkward, he didn’t manage to roll like action heroes do in the movies. “Fuck!” he screamed as pain shot up his legs on impact.

And it all had been for nothing.

Lilly bent down, picked him up again, and tossed him back on the counter. She then turned off the oven and twirled the frying pan, spreading the melted butter.

“What are you doing, you fucking retard! Let me out of here now!”

She shot him a quizzical look. “Dude, I said I was going to eat you. You think you’re walking away from this? Listen good: I will swallow you whole. Maybe you will die suffocated inside me, maybe you’ll die being digested, or maybe you won’t even die at all, who knows? It might happen just like in Pinocchio, where people lived in the whale’s belly. But I promise you, you’ll never see the sun again.”

This time she got through to him. She meant it, she really did. His life was in jeopardy—the giant idiot was going to eat him. “Y-You’re not gonna get away with this!”

She grabbed him and began stripping him.

“Lilly, we’re friends for God’s sake! Let’s ta- aaaaaaahh!” he screamed as his legs hit the frying pan. Hot butter began covering every inch of his body. “Lilly, please! Let’s talk about this!”

Once he was sufficiently slathered, she picked him up with two chopsticks and dropped him into a plate. The next thing he knew, they were at her living room table. There was a glass of coke to his side, and Lilly was staring down at him, chopsticks in hand.

Panic began to overpower reason, and Rick let it all out: “You fucking bitch. You fucking retard bitch! You do know that, right? You have to know you’re a fucking moron! Yeah, I fucking killed those people,”—he laughed—“and you gobbled them up! You’re a monster. Not a girl, not even a person: a monster!”

The chopsticks descended and squeezed his midsection. He was being lifted, higher, and higher, stopping directly above Lilly’s face.

Her mouth opened.

“NO! Nononono,” Rick began as the fluorescent ceiling light illuminated it.

Her tongue, at first balled up at the back of her mouth like a pink hill, seemed to turn liquid and crash over her lower jaw like a wave, spilling over her teeth to cover the entire surface. And the light found her throat. There was nothing cartoonish about it—no huge archway with a tear-shaped uvula dangling from it. It looked a bit like a capital ‘M’ with a much smaller ‘V’ in the middle…And it was getting closer.

Rick began descending.

His legs kicked, his arms waved, and his body twisted, but no amount of butter covering his body would allow him to escape from those chopsticks.

A hot wave of air on his face, the smell surprisingly pleasant. How nice: the whore had brushed her teeth before Rick arrived. He got closer still, could now see her tiny papillae—the little circles doting her tongue. At the back of her mouth, veins stood out amid the pink flesh.

Then finally, first contact: his big toe touched the tip of Lilly’s tongue. Immediately, two jets of saliva squirted into her mouth, forming pools and droplets over the soft surface. They glittered there under the bright light.

Lilly shoved Rick inside in a sitting position; warmth engulfed him. In his mind: How the fuck can I fit in a sitting position? She’s not that big. Oh god, no no no. His butt stood atop her tongue, which was simultaneously softer and rougher than he expected. It moved under his ass, the tip curving up and pushing against his chest and stomach.

Then the pressure of chopsticks vanished, and he felt Lilly’s fingers grab him and adjust his position to a lying one, face facing gullet. Her lips closed, forming a tight seal around his midsection. Darkness. Gallons and gallons of saliva pouring in, her tongue rising and falling, scraping him against the ridges on her palate.

Through it all, Rick punched and kicked and struggled, but his fists sank on her tongue, the spongy surface absorbed all the impact.

He was about to begin screaming again when a joint effort by tongue, palate, throat, and gravity made him slide down. There were two seals around his body now: one from Lilly’s lips (around his knees) and a new one clamping his shoulders. It was her gullet. Her filthy gullet, which meant his head was already inside her esophagus. The smell here was worse too. Acidic. And vibrating through the silk-smooth passage was a rhythmic dub-dub, dub, dub-dub.

Another swallow, his arms being squeezed against his chest to fit in the small tunnel. The damn thing might be soft and smooth, but no matter how much pressure he put, it didn’t budge. He felt the tip of Lilly’s tongue rub against his feet, lifting and pushing them inside. By now, her lips were probably shut again. That meant she would swallow twice more. The next time his entire body would be shoved into the esophagus—if anyone saw her from the outside, they would see her neck swelling to almost twice its standard size. Then another swallow and the bulge would disappear below her collarbone, and whatever was inside her would effectively seize to exist.

Rick knew all that. He’d seen it before, several times. He just never—not for one goddamn moment—though it would be him taking a trip into the beast’s belly.

It all happened as he predicted. Two more gulps, and now he was descending on his own. The journey was slow-paced, inch-by-inch he approached his doom. Dub-dub, dub, dub-dub: the sound drummed through his entire frame, he couldn’t just hear but feel her heartbeat. And the stench: gone was the freshness of Lilly’s toothpaste, replaced by a bouquet of death and rot, mingled with eye-stinging acid.

After ten more seconds, the trip came to an end. The pressure eased as Rick was deposited in a large, foul-smelling chamber. He knew where he was, and also knew he would never leave, but to his credit, Rick refused to give up the fight. It was difficult to stand; the whole place moved this way and that. Not only did the stomach itself kept roiling and shifting under him, but the whore was walking around with him inside of her. He did not give up. In complete darkness, on his knees, he crawled until he found a wall and began hitting it, trying to claw and damage it.

Something fell on his shoulder. It was viscous, thick, and the source of the acidic smell permeating Lilly’s gut. Plop, plop, plop. More globs of acid began falling all around him. He could feel it oozing from the wall he’d been punching a second ago, rising from the living floor.

The stomach’s movements intensified. It rumbled, producing other disgusting sounds as well, even overpowering Lilly’s ever-present heartbeat. More acid poured out. The whole fucking chamber was covered in it, its contents ripe for digestion.

As the sounds of his screaming were swallowed by the symphony in Lilly’s stomach, Rick began to melt.


5-


If there was one silver lining in this night, it was the absolute certainty that the people she swallowed for Rick were indeed dead. Her nightmares had been just that: nightmares. No one recovered conscience in her guts and tried to escape as it happened in those bad dreams.

She knew that because swallowing and digesting a living person was a whole different experience. She felt his hands moving across her tongue, the tiny fingers stimulating her taste buds; she felt his body twisting and writhing as it went down her throat.

And she could still feel him moving in her belly. It was a weird feeling, but all in all, not entirely unpleasant. A burp climbed out of her gut. She released it. Others soon followed, and deep inside her, the struggling lessened, she barely felt anything anymore. Another thirty seconds and all was still, the only movements coming from her gut were those of her stomach as it worked in digesting Rick.

With nothing else to do for the rest of the night, Lilly grabbed some chocolate cake, a bottle of coke, and slumped down on her couch to binge on whatever show Netflix was recommending her.

The next day Lilly’s morning ritual was once again interrupted by sheriff Miles. “Morning, Lilly,” he said, leaning on his car.

“Sheriff? What are you doing here?”

“Came by to make sure you didn’t do anything stupid,” he said, pointing at Rick’s car. “Jesus, Lilly, did you spend the night with him?”

Lilly tried to come up with an explanation that didn’t go along the lines of what’s left of him is currently in my rectum, but came up empty. “He won’t hurt anyone ever again, sheriff.”

“Why, ’cause he told you that.”

“No. Trust me, he had an accident.” Right after that last syllable left her lips, her guts churned loudly, wanting to release their contents to make room for the soon-to-be-digested breakfast.

The sheriff heard the sound. His eyes widened. “Did you…?”

Then, in a rare moment, Lilly came up with a good idea. She Picked up Rick’s car with both hands and tossed with all her strength into the forest. “Nah,” she said. “Pretty sure he had an accident. Too bad, the animals found him before the cops.”

Sheriff Miles laughed. “Guess I can live with that.”

Her guts rumbled again, and this time a fart escaped her ass. “Sorry, sheriff. I…I gotta go now.”

“Jeeeesus,” he cried, covering his nose. “Guess that’s what you get, gobbling up that foul little shit. Well, I’m off then.” With that, he got back in his car and sped away from her gas cloud.

A few moments later, Lilly emptied her bowels. She didn’t use the river this time, opting instead to bury the mess in a soft patch of earth—no reason why someone in town should see Rick’s grinning skull floating down the river.

Rick…

He was well and truly gone. Lilly didn’t feel bad, though, there was something that came close to relief coursing through her. Like she had turned the page on a bad chapter of life’s story and came out just a bit wiser for it—never again, she would be played like that. With a smile on her lips and plans for the future in her head, she walked back home.

[Imback]

Pretty good. You should get a gallery.

[bigboy1992]

I would like to read a series of shorts with this character.

[32n59Deleted]

Really good! I enjoyed that she made a point of eating him alive so he could suffer inside her belly.

[Wolfsage]

Really good! I enjoyed that she made a point of eating him alive so he could suffer inside her belly.

Might I suggest writing a least an alternative version of your ending with that tantalizing idea you floated of him living like Pinocchio in the whale inside of her? Maybe Rick's crimes and Lilly's innocence can be made public and Lilly could go on tour again (on her own terms instead of an abusive asshole's) advertising herself as a "living prison" and letting people get close to her belly so they can hear Rick's screams, lol.

I would love that

[ziggyfreud]

I love the detailed and beautifully illustrated descriptions of the inside of her mouth. You included the visuals, the smells, the feel. I like how you described the texture of the papillae on her tongue and how the smells of her mouth changed as he was swallowed. very nice. I also like the way you developed the characters....how the victim set himself up and how eating him seemed natural...not contrived or forced....but meaningful and realistic. nice story.

[GastricAztec]

You're very skilled at writing!