Turning around, Fiona looks across the now empty living room. Someone else is forced around with the motion, but they’re unable to see what she sees. Relatively dark, some light shines through the open doorway of the kitchen in the back. The place wasn’t a mess, but it still was going to take some cleaning up to organize the couch pillows and get rid of the extra cups and games. Fiona wasn’t exactly a clean freak, but she still liked things to be at least somewhat tidy.

Locking* the door with an arm held behind her, her left arm rests across her stretched sweater. Hand cupping over her heavily pregnant like belly bulge, her pinky makes contact with her stretched belly as it pokes out from underneath the clothing. * Gurrgleee *, her belly vibrates like a vacuum cleaner. Cleaning will have to be a morning thing, she decides, not wanting to move too much as she deals with her overly extended stomach.

Fortunately, her parents were away for the weekend. That's actually why their friend group had the party at her house after all: No need to worry about being interrupted or anything. It was nice being able to relax now that everyone was gone. She wasn’t exactly on edge, but faint concern hid in her shadows earlier. A bubbly *Glorp*, which doesn’t move her belly, does shake her inner eardrums. Reminding her that not ‘everyone’ was gone yet, she takes her eyes off the living room. Looking down, she’s reminded of the reason she doesn’t want to clean up just quite yet.

Standing next to the front of the doorway, above her white carpet floor, the girl stands. Tall, about 6 feet tall in fact, she has long smooth legs with only the slightest of heft in them. Towards her back her long straight hair reaches between her shoulder pads. Her hips are slightly above average as well, and while she always had a slight ‘chunk’ to her, her practically swollen round belly was still relatively larger than the rest of her proportions. So large in fact, it stretched her blue wool sweater enough that it became smooth, and even lifted up. Gripping over the top half, her gut from her belly button to above her blue jeans stretched forward into the open air.

Hell, even though it wasn’t exactly blocking her swollen middle, she could even feel the top of her blue jeans straining against her outwards stretching skin. It was a bit uncomfortable, she wasn’t going to lie, but that’s nothing some sweatpants or whatever else couldn’t fix. For now, it actually felt pretty useful to Fiona. The jeans were almost like a cast, helping her contain her overindulging meal.

Fatty, and overly bloated, she couldn’t even see her toes below. No, just her round and smooth belly poking just a bit rounder and wider beyond her soft blue sweater. Now in the privacy without others, she slowly curls the sweater up, to reveal more of her bare belly again. Just like before, she feels like it bloats out, growing round and solid. In reality, it doesn’t really grow more than a millimeter around if that. She was far too full for a sweater to change such a heavy middle.

Yet, even with such a large hearty meal crushed within her stomach, her skin still looks and feels smooth underneath her touch. Deep inside she could feel the slightest of jagged points of the boy’s knees or elbows or whatever else her stomach hugged around his frame. Yet through her previous fat, other insides and even skin, things become as round as a sphere as her swollen middle gripped into the open air.

Lowering her right hand, as her left hand still holds the sweater into her breasts, she reaches down and caresses the right side of her belly again. Like before, the sensation tingles her fingertips, and tickles at her insides. Odd but also comforting, she rubs into her mass. Maybe it was the points of pressure inside, or the strain of her stretched organ, but things feel calmer as her belly shifts and molds underneath her touch. It’s not enough to really move or large middle much, but the right side of her stretched front tenderizes.

It feels good like earlier in the day, but one thing she notices is how the feeling has slightly changed. Where her stomach was all solid before, underneath her skin, now it was only like 90% solid. With a little slight squish to it, she hears a light * squelsh * as she indents into different parts of her belly ever so slightly.

She started picking up on that sound when she first began burping earlier. “ UUrrpp ,” another bubble of gas parts her lips, simultaneously bubbling her gut from beyond her fingertips. She had ideas of it before, feeling the extra slosh inside which even pushes with her right hand confirms her theory. That being that the girl told the others she had a high metabolism, and now that metabolism was being put to use on poor Marco.

Also, not only did Marco start to move when her gas began earlier, but he also started to speak up. Hell, it even reached a point where he eventually started pleading. While the group was talking about the Grammys and Emmys, Fiona was listening to two different stories at once. One that she was a part of, and one that she ignored inside her straining belly.

Inside, Marco had begun to ask if he could be let out again. No response came. Being the nervous and quiet kid he was, he gave it another try. Again, no response except the very faint and distant murmurs of the others. So, he eventually returned to silently sitting in the dark cave, listening to the fleshy surroundings move and try to squeeze. However, as Fiona felt her gut shift a bit more later on, she also heard Marco speak up some more. ‘Hey, it’s starting to - owe , sting a bit in here. Can you let me out sometime soon.’ But again, Fiona simply pretends to not hear him, and acts present amongst the others.

After Mitchel and Lora had departed, Marco had taken to practically shouting inside her, ‘Hey Fiona! It’s starting to hurt inside you. I think you’re stomach’s trying to do… so-* RUMBLE * something to me. C-can you please barf me up now?’ It’s an odd thing to ask someone else. Surrounded and gripped so secure, now with growing sizzling juice levels, Marco tried to wiggle some more.

He couldn't actually extend his arms or legs to press out, but he could at least give Fiona a stomach ache he figured. His head, shoulders, and lower body try forcing the heavy surroundings around him around. It’s no use. Unfortunately, so tightly held and compressed in such a narrow world he was unable to move his world much. Feeling like he was buried 5 feet underground, any movement he manages to create with his surroundings is muffled and diluted by the time it reaches the outside of Fiona’s belly. Sure her belly button and gut still manage to shift and wiggle in the fresh air, but it’s not enough for anyone to notice. Like the grass shifting in the wind, someone would need to actually be looking for the movement to really notice it.

He had picked up on the fact that Fiona had to have been ignoring him, as she clearly heard him before, and he found it hard to believe she didn’t feel the commotion he was causing in her belly. His surroundings may have a tight grip on him, but he was still another human being after all. So, he had to shout for the others to hear him. Yet with liquid pooling around him, and his own fatigue starting to leak in, his surroundings didn’t seem to allow his voice to break through like they once did. Muffling, his pleas only came out as low * groansss * that the group had subconsciously learned to tune out a while ago.

More and more the girl burped her indigestion away, as more and more acid began to swell within her stomach. Unnoticed to her, it burned Marco more and more by the second. Digging into his flesh, he pleaded through the pain, but unwillingly he realized his efforts were for naught. For whatever strange reason, she wasn’t letting him out, and struggling was only tiring him out more. This just meant he had to hope someone else would remember him and speak up.

Unfortunately for him, as the group converged and chatted away under alcohol's influences, and with Fiona’s passive demeanor clouding his situation and helping steer the conversation elsewhere, that point in time never came. Now, a half an hour later he remained suspended above the ground. Held tightly inside the round belly of the only girl left inside the house, it was just him and his predator.

Or, one could argue it was just his predator in the room now. Welllll fed and relishing in the tingling feeling within, Fiona rubs over her gut with some force. Practically moaning, she loves the way her belly resists as it gets pushed side to side, and even slightly up and down. Enjoying it too much in fact, the girl almost falls back into the door behind her. Stumbling momentarily against the wood, her hands don’t leave her gut. Holding her belly secure, she balances herself against the houses inside wall.

‘Are they… all gone?’ The voice is even quieter and more distant than usual. If Fiona didn’t know any better, she would have thought that her conscience was speaking to her, from her gut. Still pressing into her mass slightly, Fiona looks down at her heft. Not liking her sweater still in the way, she checks the curtains are closed, before using both hands to take her sweater off completely.

“Yup, it’s just-,” her sweater covers her mouth and face for a moment, “you and me now bud.” Her belly remains as solid as usual, as her arms raise above her heads. She finishes her sentence as she throws her sweater onto the couch. She’ll clean that up tomorrow, along with the rest of everything. Now only in her pants and white bra, her entire growth of a belly stands uncovered. Curving all the way back into the bottom of her bra on top, and the top of her pants on the bottom, it feels freeing, yet also a bit much to handle. Feeling parched, she lumbers her body towards the kitchen to get a glass of water. Shaky and fully exposed, her large belly bobs with each step.

Feeling his world bobbing heavier than earlier, Marco goes to speak up again. “ Sooo I don’t get it,” his voice is pained. Juice now fills up just over half of his sealed tight enclosure. Even though it was still only his skin getting eaten away, he felt like his very lungs were weakly being ripped out of him. ‘Fortunately’, even with his eyes adjusted, it’s too dark for him to see his red burned skin, and peeling spots all over his body. All he can do is hear the *glorbs* or shifts of his heavy world, and feel the acid burn into just about every inch of him. Even his face which remained above the pool burned from stomach acid droplets that secreted through the stomach wall. The same fleshy lining that continued to lap and spread forcefully against his hair and cheeks. It was almost like the stretched organ had its own taste buds, as it lapped over Marco as if he was the most delicious cake it ever had the pleasure of tasting.

“Wh-what’s the plan?” he speaks as the lining rubs back and forth into his burned and wet body and face. As if his skin wasn’t in enough pain, the jello-like friction only made things worse. “When are… When are you going to let me out?” He questions, only willing/able to move his pupils in the dark black confines.

Practically stomping into the kitchen, Fiona reaches up for the cupboards. Stretching her body, from the inside, her stomach tries to pull her forward. To help balance her new balance, she lowers one hand to grab her fat middle, and grabs a glass above her head with her other. The wooden cupboard * BAnks * as it shuts. Heading to the refrigerator and filling a glass. As the calm and slow stream trickles into the glass she lightly rubs her belly before telling him her thoughts, “ Ummm , probably not gonna.” The words are almost stoic.

What?! Marco’s head shouts. Loud, deep and clear, she sounds far too nonchalant to have said what he thinks he just heard. With nerves well beyond his typical anxiety, almost like a primal fear, he speaks louder, “Ex-excuse me?! What do you mean you won’t let me out?1!?” The words still take more effort than he would like, but still he shouts into his well burned and irritated arms which squeeze tightly into his front.

“I mean,” she pulls the glass back and downs 5 heavy gulps. Her throat waves downward as she empties the glass into her body. She knew she was thirsty, but she didn’t realize she was so dehydrated. Whether it was beer, or her body working on such a heavy meal, she definitely needed water. Her belly visually shifts slightly but she ignores it. Emptying the contents completely, she fills the cup back up with another light shine and a pouring of the stream. “ Ughh , I needed that,” watching the glass fill she speaks up again, “I mean I’m not gonna let you out.” Again she replies calm and plainly, almost as if she was more interested in the water in front, than the food within.

Soaking wet now half from water, and half from her stomach juices, Marco tries to wince and wink the liquid away from his face. He tries to lift a finger up, but hands turning a bit shaky, he figures the less he moves the better. On one hand, the water caused the pool to dangerously rise up to his chest, but on the other hand, it did feel kind of cooling and nice on his skin. It did still hurt his burnt skin, but with an almost calming or healing type of pain. It almost distracts him from the horror of what he just heard. His eyes widen as the thought returns, “FIONA, yo-you can’t leave me in here. Who knows what will happen. I could get digested?!... Completely!”

Glass now filled again, she takes only a few sips this time before filling it up fully once more. “That’s very likely, you are in my stomach after all.” Her other hand rests across the top of her engorged belly, almost like someone claiming an item. You may be bigger than anything else I’ve eaten, but I still ate you. I don’t see why you’d be any exception from all the other food I’ve had.”

“Exception?” Holy shit she’s actually serious, “I’m alive!”

Glass now filled, she heads back into the living room, “True. But I don’t see how that changes things on my end. Plus, I don’t think you’ll be alive through it all… But you’re welcome to try.” She shrugs a shoulder and heads back towards the doorway to her living room. With a full glass cup in hand, she looks around the empty room again. Holding herself again, her other hand lightly holds the middle of her hardworking belly.

“But I’m your friend!” Her belly wiggles just barely this time. The motions don’t seem to match the desperation as her belly itself appears to shout.

“Ya, I mean we are kinda friends that’s true,” she lowers her hand until she sees her belly button. Lightly she holds her heavy belly. It’s funny, right beyond her hand is likely where her intestines are, but right now it’s higher up in her digestive tract that is processing the boy. Still holding to prevent too much bobbing she makes for her staircase.

“But that doesn’t mean you’re not food. Here, I can ask questions too. You are in my stomach after all, right?” She glances down at her belly before turning to the stairs. Grabbing the rail, she leans heavily as her left hand pulls upwards to help lug her mass with each step. Walking was a challenge, and climbing wasn’t any easier.

Through each step, more and more of her leaves the living room. With Fiona’s body in control, Marco is forced to come along for the ride. Literally following within Fiona’s footsteps, he tries to stammer out something. “ But but but -,” There had to be some logic to convince her. Or maybe… he remains still as his world lifts up and down, there is no logic? No no! Still in shock, there’s gotta be something, anything he can do to reason with her. His surroundings seem to bounce more than he does somehow as the woman climbs the step. A sixth sense tells him that the farther she goes, the worse his chances are. He’s unable to come up with anything but the obvious,“I’m a person!” His shouts into the dark and wet stomach lining hurt, “I’m not food!”

Climbing up a third of the way, Fiona stops for a moment to catch her breath. *Gurrrgle, bubble bubble *, man I wish I had an elevator. The movements in her belly cause her to pause. This turns out to be the right choice, as her mouth opens again with another loud and much wetter, “ BUURRRPPP .” This time she gets a taste of the boy again on her tongue. Oh how I missed that flavor . Licking at her canines, she reaches up and resumes climbing.

“Look, Marco, digesting you, * huff * funny enough, is kinda taking a lot out of me. I don’t want to have to explain, * Huff *,” she stops a moment before continuing, “every little detail to you too. So unless you have something new to say, please don’t say anything at all.” Her ass shifts as another leg lifts in the air, and then wobbles slightly as her foot plants down onto a new stop. “Otherwise… I think I can make things a lot worse for you.” With eyes looking at the path ahead she muscles onwards.

“Make it worse for me! How can you possibly do th-?” Suddenly, everything stops. Marco wasn’t even interrupted, he just felt nervousness over the randomly still surroundings. No more did she climb stairs, or even walk for that matter. His eyes dart side to side; what’s she gonna do? Fear starts to wash over him like the acid he bathes in.

Outside, just before the top step, Fiona stops momentarily. Catching her bearings, her back arches upright as she takes a few breaths. Her belly seems to breathe itself. Except for the sound of air entering and leaving her lungs, only the sounds of a few short * Glorps * and * Squelshes * radiate from her belly. Prepared, she leans forward, lowering herself to the ground.

Supporting her fat self on hands and legs, she crawls onto the top step edge. Holding the weight of two people on her four limbs, she lines her belly button up inches from the short haired carpet edge. Heavy hammock-like gut hovers centimeters above the edge. Her wide rear arches up. Lower on the staircase, at a slight downward angle it faces. Taking a moment, she braces herself. Lowering herself down until the carpet tickles her belly skin, she slowly supports herself less and less. Simultaneously, the pressure inside her stomach begins to grow. Like she stifled a burp, her throat and jaw tighten as the ground pushes back against her belly. Her belly compresses, also growing wider left and right. The growing inner pressure is quite uncomfortable, but if her theory is right, she should be able to handle this better than her meal.

Sure enough, when about half of the weight is off of her hands, she hears the distant begging. “Ok ok! I yieeeeld please stop !” A short smug grin appears on her face. Tightening her muscles she goes to push into the ground, before a rumble in her middle stops her. A sudden pressure fires up, causing her tongue to roll out with another loud and gassy, “ BURRAAAaappppppp .” Marco continues to scream and protest through it all, but it’s not until her gas is over that she bothers moving at all. Expelling the putrid gas, like a spice she can lightly taste the acidic flavor. Closing her mouth with a final “- ppgggg ”, she pushes into the carpet floor once more. Man, it really must be horrible in there? She figures, pushing herself back up to two legs. Then again, her belly ‘relaxes’ back into it’s old spherical shape, I’m going to digest him into mush- and eventually shit- makes sense it would be actual hell in there. Gut gripped tightly by her insides, her belly timidly shakes as she stands upright once more.

After that belch, or maybe after the strain she put on her stomach, her stretched abdomen almost feels a tiny bit tighter than earlier. Like your legs after running a mile, the muscles that surround her stomach and inner belly have a slight extra strain to them. Not enough to cause any problems, but enough to remind her that eating an entire person was more than overly filling.

“ Belllllch, ” from the bottom pits of her stomach, a smaller deep bubble wiggles its way up and out of her throat. “ Ugh , human can be… a bit much,” she tells herself through another belly * glorp *. The phrase and tone is quite similar to how someone would complain about too spicy curry, or after simply eating far too much pasta. Her eyes shift side to side, wait, does this make me a cannibal. Her belly * RUMBLESSS * underneath her hand. Ya, I guess so, with a shrug, her hips sway as she walks her fat form down the hall.

Feeling broken, yet somehow still in one piece the boy remains quiet. As she speaks to herself, and as his world sways with her steps, he bites his tongue, not daring to speak up anymore. The only sound from him being painful groans as the pressure mixes with the acid around him. Bubbles pop in the acid pool below his gritted teeth and mouth.

Almost stomping down the hallway Fiona carries her heavy form with her abdomen muscles and left hand. Allowing her belly to sway adds somewhat to the pull she feels inside, but it also oddly enough makes her new body shape easier to manage. With the carpet feeling soft against her bare feet, it isn’t long until she reaches her bedroom in the back right. Yet before walking through her bedroom door, she decides to continue straight into the room at the end of the hall.

The bass of a door closing sounds through Marco’s weak bones. He feels so compelled to speak up, or at least do something… but what can he do? He tried talking, and he couldn’t break out of his 360 degree solid fleshy prison. Especially not now when he was just sooo very weak. He didn’t know if it was the crampedness, unmoving bundled position he was in, or the dreaded alternative, but he had just about lost complete feeling in his legs. By now, the short sway of his predator’s hips didn’t move too much, but it was still enough to cause the rising acidic pool to easily splash into his chin. Of course it felt like a thousand fire ants burning into his flesh. Not just feel it, but he could even hear the burning sizzle melting away at his flesh.

His body still burned within the pool, but some time ago, somehow he had grown accustomed to the fiery pain. Now it was just a continuous numbing burn that reached into every crevice of his being. Not only old ones, but new ones that seemed to open up as the stomach digested him away. No, he really didn’t like his odds of fighting out of here. He didn’t even like his odds of surviving another hour or two. Hell, if by some miracle she did decide to vomit him out for whatever reason, he was sure he’d have quite the medical bill.

He didn’t like the idea of just sitting around and waiting for his eventual demise. With things slowly getting worse every second, this was a waiting game that his surrounding world was very situated to win. As the surrounding deadly organ secreted more stomach bile, already the pool below seemed to rise another millimeter. Like slowly sinking into a cold pool, the rising acid was felt.

His surrounding world seems to lower itself, becoming still. It would have been noticeable to poor Marco before, but he was far too broken in to frankly notice it. Sitting and bundled tightly into himself, he just looks out at the dark red fleshy stomach lining like a kid that smoked far too much weed. In front of him, it prods, slaps, and squeezes over the front of his face. His cheeks and face are bright red, with a few lines appearing to crater into his skin. He’d struggled to turn his head away from the fleshy assault, but the stomach hugged tightly into him at all angles.

Numb to most outside activities now, a new sound manages to break through his faded demeanor. An odd continuous *splashing*, just manages to reach his ears. Narrowing his eyes, his ears concentrate on the weird sound. What, is that? He wonders, listening in on the unique constant stream. It sounded like the cup of water filling earlier. But this was, his eyes shift from the dark stomach lining to look down at the dark almost greenish red pool. It’s not like he can really see it, but it points him in the right direction. The sound was coming from somewhere below him. It’s not in here…? No, it’s not. It’s coming from outside her body. He tries to make heads or tails over the still going stream that continues beyond his bottom half.

She’s not moving… but then what is that? Water? Is she leaki-, and then the realization hits him. Unable to help it, he blurts out his shock. “Ahre you, * bleh *, seriously pissing right now!” If he wasn’t so caught up, he’d be impressed with how clear he was able to manage his strained vocals.

Outside in the safe and dry open air, Fiona sits with both hands resting on top of her belly like a table. Allowing the toilet seat to support her entire weight, her bowling ball of a gut causes her to lean back farther than usual. Relieving herself of the alcohol, some water, or whatever else she may have drank earlier in the day, Fiona relaxes as her bladder waterfalls into the toilet water below.

“... pissing right now! ” If the voice didn’t drag her attention down to her wide umbrella of a middle, she would have rolled her eyes at that. There was a lot of weight being held up by her thighs, and held together inches out her left and right side, and holding such a solid and heavy person inside you is already draining enough as is. Can’t a girl just piss in peace?

“Ya Marco,” her eyes actually do roll this time, “I’m pissing.” Her words groan louder than her belly. “Am I supposed to hold it in? Is that supposedly not allowed too?” Spicy food was less annoying than this.

“Well I-I-,” he stammers.

“Hell, * mmp * you’ll be joining my piss in that toilet eventually,” Fiona’s head bobs forward, indicating towards what’s below her inflated belly. Who cares that Marco can’t see? “I don’t see what the big deal is,” she finishes, huffing out a sighed breath. Her upper body leans back some more with her hand on her belly like a shelf. Easing down like meditation, she relaxes as she pisses out the rest of her yellow stream. Barely audible over the waterfall below, she lets out a final mumble, “ you better get used to it .”

In disbelief, Marco is just so shocked that it has even come to this. He just wanted to come over and enjoy the end of the year party with his friends. Play some games, and chat like good times. Even if he wasn’t the most talk-able person, he still enjoyed the others' company. How did it turn into this? His thoughts are in disbelief. No one in their right mind would have imagined that he would somehow end up here, in the belly of his once friend Fiona.

The urine stream continues somewhere below. Beyond where he can see, his glossy eyes still hear the disrespect. His torn body must be at least partially hovering over the open bowl of a toilet. Above said toilet, large and heavy, is the taunt belly which traps him inside. Blending into, and pressing against the back and inner guts of the girl, it appears round and circular out in the open. With Marco too defeated to disturb it anymore, it sits above her recently shaved exposed privates, unmoving.

From inside, a mix of drained energy, and depleting ego causes him to sigh. “ Hugghh , I just… ugh nevermind ,” his voice fizzles out into the sizzling around him.

It was faint, but Fiona picks up in the admittance of defeat. Eyeing her front facing belly, her belly takes over the boys words with another full belly tingling * Gluuurggglee-lorb *. Well, that’s more I like it, a grin scratches at the corner of her cheek. As the final trickle lightly splashes into the now yellow water below, she doesn’t bother saying another word.

With that she wipes herself for cleanliness, struggling to lift the right of her asscheek up. HEFTING her heavy frame back upright. Reaching down, she realizes her white panties had followed her pants and fallen down to the floor. Probably when I was getting up, she figures having been too distracted by her own struggle. She tries to lean towards her left side, and stretch out her arms, but her bubbly middle already causes her to wobble. Not wanting to fall and possibly burst her bubble, she figures it’s better to play it safe. No one’s going to be showing up anyway, she figures. Unable to see her feet, she’s careful to not fall as she kicks her pants and white undies off her legs, and to the side.

Holding her belly for support, like she was too familiar with now, she turns around and presses on the nob. With a loud * FLUSSHHHH *, the water disappears down the plumbing. Things were still far into uncharted territory for her, yet as her fingers lightly slide over her distended belly, she wonders if Marco would be going those same pipes in the near future. * Belchhh *, a prude thought enters her mind after that latest expulsion; I bet it will be nice to fart him out later. Her pointer finger lightly taps her swollen gut, but first I need to let him marinate some more.

Yup, looking down at her growth, she knew there was only one way poor Marco was going to leave her body. Hmm , she grunts, wiggling her hips, and turning around. Walking through the open doorway, she goes from the bathroom into her bedroom. On her lower backside, her naked rear seesaws up and down with each step.

Walking into the room she was well familiar with, she clicks the light on and closes the door shut. A short delay in the lamp, it’s not until the wooden frame *clamps* shut, does the white light fill up the room. It’s almost dim, yet not quite as everything is as visible as the outside a half an hour before sunset.

Standing right by the light, right hand on the right of her fat belly, the only person (that matters) stands in the room. Down below, her vagina lips rest like an unexposed camel toe, faced towards the ground. Then, it shifts side to side, almost like a smirked lip as she walks towards her bed.

Moving the mattress comforter and blankets, delicately, she turns around so that her exposed rear looks down at the mattress. She may not have been the hottest girl in the world, but without any worry or fear, someone like Marco could have appreciated the inside exclusive. It would have been drastically better than the inside exclusive he currently was experiencing, at least. Leaning back, she slowly lowers her heavy body for a second, before practically falling into the soft and comfy mattress. Bouncing from the weight of it all, Fiona’s chest inhales sharply as it holds down her far too large to ‘slip out’ meal. Belly bobbing to a balance, the girl is sure to hold the front of it tightly into the rest of her.

Reaching up, she unclicks her bra before tossing it off to the floor. That would just be another thing to add to the clean up pile tomorrow… or the next day. Now, completely nude from head to toe, her perky bosoms lie on top of her father stretching, and at least 8 times as large, belly like pillows on a mattress.

Speaking of which… she puts a hand behind her while holding her gut, and spins around, lifting her legs up in the process. Struggling to move her fat ass, it’s not the most choreographed sight, but she manages to stretch herself out, and lie down in her bed. Covering her naked body, the blankets seem to hover oddly higher than usually, almost as if there was an igloo underneath. When completely sprawled out with her head held up by a pillow, the top of her belly is as tall as the top of her forehead. Stretching her right arm as far as she can manage, unable to move her mass with this type of effort, she pulls the cord, as the light in her room goes dark.

Now, only the moonlit night fills up the room. An odd shadow circles where her belly is, but besides lines in the curtains, it’s hard to see too much. Focusing on touch, she’s glad she was always so pushy for the softest bed sheets. Lightly resting on top of her belly like a smooth tissue, the touch feels so calming over her sensitive belly. So stuffed, she really had it rough needing to digest a meal this big.

She shifts momentarily as a fist covers her mouth, stomaching a belch back down. With a loud * gurgleeeee * from her belly, she lowers both hands underneath the smooth silk. Hands flat and perpendicular to the mattress, she holds the bottom parts of her round and heavily ballooned belly. The continuous squeezing, shifting, and gurgling of her belly is felt by her fingertips, even when her ears don’t hear it, or her stomach doesn’t feel it.

Underneath the covers, and down on the other end of the bed looking up, her vagina rests exposed between her legs. Free unlike usual, it feels almost natural in the clean bedsheets. Normal and calm, the skin of the girl’s lower parts remain normal like any other girl. Yet as her skin travels up her body, her lower middle begins to drastically rise and curve upwards. Stretched around a very swollen stomach, the top of the girl’s belly is hidden behind the rising bed sheets.

Continuously feeling her belly wiggle underneath her fingertips, Fiona’s hands remain still except for how they seem to rise and fall through the motions of her calm breathing. Feeling her gut do it’s work begins to soothe and relax the larger than she woke up girl. Practically falling off a hidden cliff into a food coma, it isn’t long before her hands lean against her swollen sides limply. Before falling asleep completely, she just has one final thought, who knew Marco… would be such a good meal. And with that, sleep takes a hold.

     Unable to sleep, squeezed within the most uncomfortable ‘bed’ as possible, Marco feels like his back is going to break soon. Turning his head sideways, his mouth remains open, gasping within that tiny bubble that remains above the stomach juices. Now said juices covered everything below his shoulders, shifting with the stomach's motions, ripping away just about every part of him.

     Far too dark inside, and with the dark slurry that has his own body mixed inside, Marco can’t see a millimeter below the oil like liquid he bathed in. A blessing in disguise, the site of his own barely exposed arm and leg bones would strike quite the fear in him. Well that, and all the digesting muscle that was deteriorating now that most of his skin had been seeped off. He was hanging on, but he really didn’t know how much longer he would last.

Fighting to remain conscious, he remained still and quiet just as instructed. Technically, it was the smart move. It prevented him from digesting faster at this point, along with preventing any new bits of more pain. However, it also inherently meant that he had given up on any possible escape through his own means. Unable to escape earlier, that option had long ago sailed, but still, now even he caved in to that fact. Unspeaking either, he was also technically giving up any hope to be freed by his captor. Even though he desperately hoped that somehow, someway she would change her mind, even in his current state he wasn’t that delusional. She made things crystal clear, and unable to even speak up at this point, he didn’t see her having any sudden changes of heart. Plus, what even remains of him at this point. If by some ridiculous miracle she did vomit him up in a pool of disgusting remains, how much of him even remained?

Inevitably, as time continued on, he knew what that meant for him: He knew that meant he would just continue to decay within this dark belly. Who knew Fiona’s stomach, could be so, unworldly, he thinks as his eyelids grew heavier. Squeezing into his head, still lapping up his burnt off and ripped face, the stomach continued to taste away the boy’s body, like a cheetah licking a popsicle. Unable to resist the motions at all, he continued to shift like a tightly held ragdoll, digesting within the dark and wet cave.

As the girl slept within her comfy bed, her belly continues to * glorp * and shift as it further processes the unmoving boy trapped inside. Yet as her belly has its way with the very carb and protein heavy meal, something else stirs that night. That something else being her phone. Far away from Fiona, left downstairs on the table in the moonlit living room, the white screen suddenly lights up. Dim and weak, it’s dark enough inside that the phone still shines brightly within its surroundings. Screen brightening from its ‘off-like’ slumber, a new text is the cause for the recent change. The words of a text message from Fiona’s friend Triste reveals itself.

In a grassy park, the girl’s image smiles with a peace sign within the small circle. With a nice image of the girl, smiling with a peace sign, the green bubbled text writes off to the right. There, in white lettering the phone reads, ‘Hey my girlll, had a great time tonight! Even when college starts promise me we’ll keep having these get-togethers! By the way, sorry we all kinda forgot:). Don’t forget about Marco HAHAH. Jk I’m sure you already let him out or whatever. Don’t wanna be ‘dumping’ him if he’s not even your boyfriend LOL. So bad, take care!”

The screen goes dark once more. It was a nice gesture by Triste. Might as well check in on her friends before crashing in her own bed after a night of drinking. However, that night Fiona didn’t respond to the text message. No, she didn’t even get a glimpse of it. Already beginning to snore as her sleep deepens, the girl’s face remains facing the ceiling above that night with closed eyes. Rising and lowering the blankets around her big belly and chests, her breathing shows just how calm and completely relaxed she is.

Both of her hands have taken to resting on their backs now. Limply relaxed flat against the mattress, it’s almost like they’re sleeping themselves. Her belly continues to rest its face into the soft blanket above. Things within her as her stomach have seemed to calm down, yet it still continues to work through every squish and gurgle that continues. Sure the rest of the girl is relaxed and sleeping, but her stomach was going to have to work overtime this night as it further gurgles away the unmoving meat of the boy. Whether he was still alive or not doesn’t matter to the stomach, it was simply doing what it was always meant to do; digest food.

The ceiling looks down at the circle bellied resting girl. No Triste, there was no need to worry: Fiona didn’t forget about Marco at all! And when the sun would rise again, she still wouldn’t forget about him. No, not one bit. Oh no, she had poor Marco right where she wanted him. Sure, after a couple of days a lot, if not all of him will no longer remain in that round and heavily engorged stomach of hers. It will take some time for her to break him down completely, but eventually her digestive tract will process the poor boy, turning him into another thick layer of fat on her hips, and pudge on her belly. But even then there’s no need to worry, Fiona will then have him right where he belonged.