A Full Lesson
Horse, Feral, Head-First, Fatal, Full-Tour, Full-Digestion, Scat, Reformation

My first time was at a farm--my mother's friend's farm to be exact. I wish I could say I didn't recal the exact date and time. I wish it had never happened, though prior to that summer, I thought otherwise.

I'd always been fascinated with being eaten, even as a young child before I even knew what to call it. I remember looking at a few cows with a friend and mentioning how cool it would be to see one from the inside. My friend pointed to a pile of dung and said, "No you don't; it's filled with that." Somehow that didn't stop my imagination.

But I'll get on with the story.

It was summer. My job, back when I thought I could have one, wasn't going to start for a few months; with my parents in the middle of a move, Sarah kindly offered to provide me hospitality until my apartment would be ready for me to move into it. Now, when I say 'farm', I'm probably overexaggerating. She had three horses and a large, old-style estate house on a few dozen acres.

Sarah was busy with her job in the city, and her husband was a bit of a freeloader, so with nothing to do, I took to caring for the horses. It got me out of the house, and kept me away from Sarah's husband. After a few weeks, I'd grown to know the trio--Coco, Rio, and Scout. They were well-behaved creatures, so I really had no idea they would do anything ... odd.

It was early in the morning, after I filled the horses' feed troughs, and was just staying with them. Rio was my favorite, and so I was with her, patting her down. I'll admit, I was looking at her belly and imagining what it was like in there as she ate her oats.

She looked at me, asking for something special. I'd forgotten to bring any carrots, sugar-cubes, or skittles (one of Rio's favorites) with me, so I held out my empty hand and said, "I don't have anything." She flibbled her lips across my hand as if searching for something. But then she started nibbling on my hand.

Now, I enjoy the rubbery lip-flibbling as much as the next guy, but nibbling is an entirely different manner. I tried to pull away but she clamped down hard. And, to my surprise, my hand gave way. It hurt, but not nearly as much as crushing bones should have. While I was stunned she pulled my entire hand into her mouth and began chewing hard. But ever time I tried to pull away she'd clench her teeth, seeming to sever straight through my wrist, causing blinding pain until I stopped trying to escape. Then Rio would continue chewing. Her warm, slippery saliva and tongue massage felt good, and, in contrast to her bites, the chewing wasn't so painful.

I was still biting my lip from my futile escape attempts when she swallowed. It was a wave of moisture and heat, flowing deeper into the mare. My hand should have been mangled beyond recognition, but, like my wrist, it seemed to spring back into formation, which allowed me to feel every motion as my knuckles slid passed the entrance to her throat, bringing my forearm between her harsh forward teeth.

Her tongue slathered my wrist which still hurt like hell. It felt really, really good, and with my hand in her throat she couldn't chew me, so I just enjoyed the respite. Her tongue now had access to dry skin, and she reminded me just how cold the air really was. But then she swallowed again.

I could feel it coming, her tongue tensing against my arm, the buildup, and then the pull. Her throat rippled around my hand, further massaging the sore flesh. Then, the pain seemed so distant that I was able to realize what was happening. I was really, truly, feeling the horse from the inside. It wasn't quite what I expected. Her throat was pleated and rough, and extremely warm and wet. And when it wasn't actively pulling me into her, it was soft and giving. But when she swallowed it turned into rock. Rock with a single purpose.

When Rio pulled me in to my elbow I began to realize that, aside from being able to feel the inside of her neck, she was actually trying to eat me. She made little, light chewing motions on my arm, and made every indication I was going to her stomach. I couldn't resist but try to look around her head to her taut belly. Just to reassure myself that this was inevitable I once again tried to pull out. Rio bit down, though not as hard this time. Just enough to make me stop.

The next time Rio gulped her tongue tickled my armpit, slipping up my sleeve and tantalizing me with her warm saliva. After gently gnawing on my upper arm and completely slobbering all over my shoulder, her tongue searched my shirt for purchase. I rubbed her cheek with my free hand, moving down to her neck. Only a few centimeters between by two hands, separated by a world of fur and muscle.

The mare gulped, her teeth scraping up my shoulder and coming to rest on my neck. She nibbled, bit down, and gulped again. The wave of wet, pulsing muscle rolled down my arm--I could especially feel the entrance to her throat around my elbow--to no effect. She bit again, this time harder. It felt like my shoulder was going to be dislocated. Before I could think, she gulped again, trying to pull me into her body despite her mouth at an impasse. Failing that, she bit.

The constant switching between pain and the gentle pressure and pleasure of her throat and tongue was getting to me. I twisted my head and squeezed it between her jaws, hoping that if she was able to swallow she's stop biting. With her tongue now on my chin, the next gulp rippled my head, pushing it against the hard top of her mouth as she managed to pull me in even deeper.

My head was now completely in her mouth, my crown at the entrance to her throat, her teeth at my neck. I would say I've never felt more vulnerable than at that moment but ... let me continue. She didn't bite, at least not like she did when I tried to escape. Her gentle chewing continued, my skin feeling more and more rubbery as she did so.

And then, the fateful gulp. The tensing of the tongue, the wash of saliva across my face, and I felt myself begin to slide inward across her soft inner flesh. Her throat wrapped around my head, pulling tightly across my face until depositing me within the confines of her neck. It was constricting, now with both my arm and head in the same place, but I fit. I can only imagine the bulge I made in her throat.

In a feat of strength, Rio bit into my chest painfully and lifted her head, straightening her throat and providing me a straight shot into her body. Now I was sliding slowly inward even when she wasn't actively swallowing. The feeling of her rough, pleated throat against my arm and face was exquisite. I tried to lift my head, to look down the tube that was claiming me, but she was too tight, and my face remained pressed mercilessly against her flesh, sliding slowly downward.

I could hear her heart-beat, slow and steady, and the sound of squelching saliva as her throat constricted around me, pulling my torso into her throat. She flipped her tongue around between my legs, using the strong muscle to pull me down. She wasted no time. I was her meal, nothing more, and she wanted me inside. With such leverage, my pace quickened.

The gulps came more frequently, almost a constant stream of hard, wet, muscular waves, puncutated by the sound of her saliva lubricating my journey. I could feely my body turning horizontal as I entered her torso, and then my hand passing through a tight ring of muscle and into her stomach. That sphincter slid roughly up my arm and slowed my descend as it neared my head.

Rio wasn't going to let her meal go now, however. With my legs in her mouth, she made a few powerful gulps, the rythms running down my body, compressing me painfully against the ring that was so resistant to allow me entrance. The throat guided me down, pulling the entrance to her stomach slowly against my saliva-soaked hair, then my forehead, then squeezing across my eyes, then popping quickly over my head and sealing tight around my neck and shoulder.

There I got my first whiff of the inside of her stomach. To call it rank would have been an understatement. It was mostly filled with a mix of oats and goo and stank of vomit, with a tingle of acid. My arm was already submerged in the gunk, something I'd hardly noticed due to it being already completely drenched in equine saliva. My hand had already reached the end of her somach and was forced to bend along the walls, as if I had no bones anymore. I was surprised how resistant her belly was to stretching. I'd always imagined stomaches as soft and malleable, but Rio's was firm and tough.

Rio was intent on getting me down and despite getting me head into her belly continued her swallowing, her strong ripples pushing my shoulders through into her stomach. After that I hardly had time to close my eyes before being dunked into the oaty mush, There, deep within her food, the noises around me were amplified to the extreme. I could hear her heart pounding away behind me, half-digested food gurgling through her intestines around me, and, now that my feet were slipping into her throat, air rushing into her great lungs. Her breathing put gentle pressure on her stomach, helping compress it and stir the contents.

As my body was tossed into the stomach I was forced to curl up. My head and upper body soon filled the entire thing. For such a large beast her belly was small! But she wasn't going to have me half-ingested. Even with my feet free of her mouth, she continued gulping, squeezing me harder into her resistant pouch.

Somehow I was slowly pushed into the sack, forcing me to curl up tighter than I thought was possible. By the time my feet joined me the walls around me were rock-hard. Rio was breathing only with difficulty, struggling against her over-stuffed stomach.

The mushed oats, acid, enzymes, and saliva oozed around me with her motions. Air gulped down with me began bubbling out from crevices around me, gurgling as the stomach worked to digest me. But I couldn't breathe. There was no air, and no room in my lungs even if I could. But to my horror, though I was sure I died, I was still aware of my body. I could feel the acids pulling at my skin, allowing it to join the mush in which I was marinating. Her stomach was helped in stirring me as she walked gently around her enclosure before laying down, squishing the stomach even further.

Eventually her stomach drained the oat-mush, leaving only my body and her organ. It was now slightly less crowded, but now there was nothing protecting my body. The acids worked quickly, tearing my body apart allowing the enzymes to get at it. Rio seemed to sleep restlessly, often kicking her legs and further agitating me.

When her stomach started to drain of the digest bits of me, I could feel it all. I felt my soup pushed into her intestine, her stomach contracting back to its original size as I slowly left. The bits of me in her intestines I could feel being assaulted by even more powerful enzymes, breaking me down into useful components and then absorbed. There, I lost all feeling. Whatever went through her intestinal walls was no longer mine. I was hers.

Rio stood when I was mostly out of her stomach. I could feel her doing something, a gentle grinding sound, and then was greeted with oats and water joining my coffin. I was already forgotten! Rio was hungry again, and filling her stomach with even more food. I was dead and made no difference. She continued eating.

And then I was entirely in the winding tube of her intestine. The journey was surprisingly short, during which I felt myself leaving, to be used as any old oats. As if my body wanted to get back together, I could feel the parts deeper in her slow down and the parts just entered speed up. After a time I was unceremoniously squeezed into her hindgut.

There were no acids or enzymes here, but I was dumped into a huge sack of microbes. It was a thick, fecal-like goup, and Rio's motions mixed me in until I could hardly tell what was me and what was digestive goo. I'd grown so used to the sounds of the horse's body that I immediately noticed when there was something new. A muffled bank, then a voice, softened through so much flesh. "Frederick? You in here?" It was Sarah. If she was back from work, I'd been in here the entire day. Considering I was already half-absorbed and stewing with what would eventually be her poop, her body had made quite a lot of use out of that time.

Rio grunted at Sarah's question, the sound echoing all around me, the vibrations making the me-goup jiggle within her. "You didn't see where Frederick went, did you Rio?" I heard a hand pat the mare's belly very close to where I pooled. Sarah had no way of knowing I was only a few dozen centimeters away from her hand as she petted her horse's flank. "Frederick?" Sarah called. The patting stopped. "Well, he did feed you guys," she said. "He must be around here somewhere." One last pat, and then the steps walked away.

Time passed in a blur. Eventually Rio went to sleep, her heart slowing. When she lay down, my new home tilted at an odd angle, making me swill back and forth until settling with her internal movements. Oats burbled through her intestines, just as I had done not too long before. I could feel myself being eaten by the bacteria, the vitamins absorbed into Rio.

Then I was pushed into a new tube, a wide one, where the onslaught continued. I was pushed closer to her heart when I felt her stand and begin eating. This close to her throat I felt the swallows as she gulped down more oats and hay. It reminded me of when I was gulped, but I no longer associated it with pleasure. That same motion had followed me through her intestines, in that sack of fecal goo, and even now as the last of what was considered useful was leeched from my body for use by the horse.

Sarah returned, probably to refill the horse's food troughs. Again she began to rub Rio. "He's nowhere to be seen," she said. "I'm starting to get worried."

Even if I could have, I wouldn't have tried to speak. Nothing is quite as humiliating as being eaten and completedly digested by a domestic horse. I didn't want Sarah to see me like this, or even know about it. Though, even if she saw me, could she tell me apart from the oats?

Rio was taken for a trot that day. I could feel the sinching of the straps of the saddle as Amy--Sarah's daughter--got Rio ready. Rio pranced in earnest, sloshing me around in her intestine. It was much worse when the ride begain, bouncing around, flopping within Rio's gut like the lump of digesta I was.

Here, deep within the horse, I could feel Amy kick the horse, urging her on. I could hear Amy joke that Rio was particularly frisky today. Energetic, from all the fuel I'd given her. Or rather, the fuel she'd taken from me without thanks or even acknowledgement. Even now my replacement twice removed was gurgling from her stomach.

After the ride ended Rio was left to graze in a field, giving me the opportunity to hear her ingest and digest copious amounts of grass. It was a constant sound, a blorping gurgle from her stomach and intestines. Even when she lay down for the night her system worked on getting her food absorbed.

Another whole day passed--I think it was a whole day since it began with Rio's oat breakfast and ended with another long lie-down--before I finally came to a halt. What moisture I had left was sucked from the remains of my body and I was clumped into little balls of rhodeapples. Come the morning, Rio wasted no time in expelling me.

A full three days within the horse's gut had reduced me to a mere pile of manure. Uniform, brown, to be shoveled out of the barn and thrown away. I'd been too long 'alive' within the horse to question why I could feel my body now, as a pile of crap beneath the mare that had claimed my body.