Dog Show
 
George was a dog, and a lot of dog at that. The Rottweiler stood nearly 5 feet tall on all fours, and weighed in at just over 275 pounds. He was a purebred show-dog, and luckily his size was considered an asset. He was larger than average, but still perfectly proportioned, with a silky black coat. Any animal of George's size is more than a little dangerous, but the Rottweiler was extremely well trained, and there had never been any issues. He got a little protective over his food on occasion, but as long as you left him to his meals in peace, it was all fine. He ate pretty quick anyways.
 
It was the night before the big competition. George had made it to the final round of the national level dog show, and he was favored for the top prize. Jeff, his owner, had never had a dog make it this far before, and frankly it was a little overwhelming for him. It was already 8PM and George still had to be fed, groomed and put to bed. The competition was bright and early, and in the next town over, so there wouldn't be much time for touch-ups the next day. Thankfully, George's groomer Landis and Jeff's best friend Ted where over to help.
 
Landis stared at the smiling beast in the middle of the room.
 
"I'm telling you Jeff, there's nothing to worry about. A beautiful dog like George is a shoo-in for first place, and his size makes him stand out like nothing else. We'll get him fed, groomed and put to bed by 9."
 
"I know, I know, you're right of course, but I'm always nervous the night before a competition."
 
Jeff was pacing back and forth, "What if something goes wrong? What if he gets sick, or what if we cut his coat too short, or what if he forgets his training mid-show?"
 
Landis laughed, "Jeff, look, it's going to be fine. If anything goes wrong, it'll be with you, not George."
 
"But-"
 
"Stop it. This is what's going to happen. You're going to come with me into the next room and you're going to tell me every little thing that's worrying you, and I'll tell you why none of them are worth worrying about. While we're doing that, Ted here will feed the talent. Then we'll get him groomed and put to bed, and it'll all be fine."
 
"OK but-"
 
"Nope. Don't want to hear it," snapped the dog groomer. "Ted!"
 
"Yep!"
 
"George's kibble and water are already measured out and in those bowls over there. Just make sure he eats it all, ok?"
 
"No problem. You two go do what you need to do."
 
Landis wheeled the frantic Jeff into the next room and shut the door. Ted was left alone with the massive Rottweiler, who was now staring at him intently.
 
"So George. What's new?"
 
George drooled.
 
"Oh, is that so?"
 
The dog let out a small whine.
 
"OK, OK, I get it. Just hold your horses."
 
Ted walked over to the counter and picked up the bowls of kibble and water. They were fairly heavy, and as he walked back over to the still-drooling dog, he began to regret not taking two trips. Holding the bowls was one thing, but putting them down on the floor was another. Ted slowly knelt down with bowls in hand. It was all going well, but George wasn't content to wait for the bowls to hit the ground before tucking in. The dog lunged forward and the bowls went flying, their contents spilling and mixing together on the floor. Ted was covered in soggy kibbles, and George immediately set about cleaning up the kitchen the only way he knew how.
 
"God dammit!" Ted stared at his now soggy clothes and sighed. Luckily he had a change of clothes, since he had planned to spend the night to help out on show day as well.
 
He begrudgingly peeled off his soiled clothes and placed them in a pile. George kept working on the spilled kibble, doing an unsurprisingly good job of cleaning it up. Ted started to stand, but just then George noticed the kibble-covered pile of clothes. The beast, having finished all the rest of the nearby kibble, began snuffling through them.
 
"Oh God. No George, stop that!" Ted groaned as he watched his shirt disappear into the Rottweiler's greedy maw. Instinctively he lunged towards the dog and tried to push his muzzle away from the rest of the pile. George looked him straight in the eye and let out a low growl. Ted immediately realized his mistake, and started to back away.
 
The gargantuan beast swallowed down the last bit of shirt hanging from his jaws and padded domineeringly towards the naked mass of flesh now pushed up against the kitchen counters. He did not like anything interfering with his dinner.
 
Ted watched George's figure leering towards him and realized he was trapped. Soon the dog's face was directly in his own. He could feel the Rottweiler's hot breath on his cheeks. The dog growled again and a string of sticky drool lowered itself onto Ted's bare chest. He slowly tried to stand up, but George placed a massive paw on his belly and forced him back down. The dog was standing directly over him, asserting his dominance over the man who had tried to take away his meal.
 
George growled again and brought his head towards the criminal one last time. He figured this would be enough of a warning, but just as he was about to move away, his nose picked up a familiar scent. It was food. This man's head had bits of kibble on it. George drooled some more and set to work cleaning them off.
 
Ted let out a sigh of relief as George let loose a barrage of licks. He knew the Rottweiler would never actually hurt him. He once again tried to stand up, but was surprised when, once again, the dog forced him back down with his paw. The unrelenting tongue was exploring his face, and he closed his eyes to keep out the drool. The massive organ pulsed and smushed around all over him, treating him like a piece of meat. Every now and then he felt the dog's teeth as they gnawed on him to extract more flavor. George never broke the skin, but Ted was terrified. He could feel the power in those jaws, and he was acutely aware of every dent they made in his tender flesh.
 
George laid down, and Ted felt the wind leave him. The dog was large and his body covered Ted's almost completely. The man was hopelessly pinned under the Rottweiler's fleshy exterior. He felt almost connected to the animal, feeling the dog's stomach move rhythmically as he breathed in and out. The dog continued to assault Ted, at times engulfing his face almost completely within its oversized muzzle. Ted's arms were pinned under George's paws, and he could do nothing to try and fight back. If he even opened his mouth to try and yell out, the dog's thick tongue would find its way inside and make him gag. Ted's face was coated in the dog's saliva multiple times over at this point, the thick, gooey slime making him feel inhuman.
 
Without warning, the slobbering stopped. Ted felt the dog shift its weight and start to stand. He gasped for breath as dog's flesh disconnected from his own. Now that the tongue had stopped exploring his face, he was able to open his eyes. Unfortunately, what greeted him was not the kitchen ceiling he expected, but a giant, furry ass. He started to scream just as George sat on his head. The dog's butt bulged over his face and sealed out all airflow. It was an odd feeling. His face was firmly planted against something forbidden, something he would've desperately tried to avoid in any other circumstance. It was humiliating. The heat was stifling and the dog's coat mixed with the saliva covering his head to bind them together. Thankfully, George's goal was to lie down, not to sit, and soon the weight was redistributed over the rest of his body. It was still a pretty scarring experience to have the dog's behind firmly planted against his face, but at least now he could breathe again.
 
He began to wonder what George was planning to do, but just then Ted felt the unmistakable set of jaws at his feet. The Rottweiler was gnawing on his feet the same way he had been on his head. The angle was probably slightly awkward for George, but he still managed to get a good taste. The feet were smaller and he could work them into his mouth more easily. Ted groaned as he felt his toes pushed up against the roof of the dog's mouth. The moist tongue worked itself in between his toes to get at the salt collected there. It tickled a bit as it coated them in the dog's saliva, and Ted tried his hardest not to laugh.
 
Ted's natural flavor, mixed with that of the soggy kibble was incredible to George. He wanted more. Ted wasn't too big, and George was hungry. In his ravenous state, George decided he could fit the man down his throat, but he'd have to act fast so he could gulp Ted down before his owner saw. He had a feeling that his owner would not want him to eat Ted. Jeff usually got mad when George ate anything other than kibble, but once Ted was hidden away inside his belly, there was nothing anyone could do, and no punishment existed that would make him regret a meal.
 
George stood up again and turned around to face the soggy mass on the floor. Dog and human stared at each other. The Rottweiler blinked a few times, gave his lips large, wet lick and grabbed Ted's feet in his mouth. Ted continued to stare at George, but the dog no longer looked him in the eye. The man's eyes opened wide in horror and disbelief as the Rottweiler swallowed for the first time. As the dog took another sickening gulp, Ted felt his toes travel over the back of the dog's tongue and sink into the pulsating throat.
 
He tried to cry out, but found he couldn't produce any sounds. George continued to gulp, and Ted felt himself slowly dragged across the floor as more of his body disappeared into the animal's ravenous jaws. The fleshy tongue continued to work itself over every inch of Ted that entered George's mouth, and beads of warm saliva dripped down the man's legs. The slimy liquid primed him for his journey down the dog's horrible gullet. By the time the shock started to wear off, and Ted regained control of his limbs, the Rottweiler had worked its way up to his groin. He cringed as the beast's probing jaws narrowly missed his delicates, and again when the animal's tongue found them. Leaving no inch of skin un-slimed, the muscle squished its way around his dick and balls, and worked its way in between his ass cheeks. The combination of the fleshy tongue's massage and the moist warmth of the animal's breath on his member caused an involuntary reaction.
 
The animal had no notion of what it was doing, but Ted couldn't help but feel thoroughly violated. It was this feeling that finally spurred him into action. As the dog swallowed yet again, this time sending his lower thighs into the throat's tight embrace, Ted reached up and pounded at George's muzzle. George was a bit surprised by this, he had never had a meal fight back before, but he knew just what to do. George growled and bit down; hard.
 
Ted felt George's teeth sink into his hips and he went limp. The animal's bite had been spread out over a large portion of skin and so no blood was drawn, but it hurt a lot, and the growl sent shivers down his spine. The dog had all the power in this situation, and as hard as he struggled, Ted realized for the first time that there was nothing he could do to avoid being consumed. The message was clear, Ted was no longer a human being, he was dog food, and dog food belonged inside of a dog's belly. That's just the way the world worked.
 
George took this opportunity to speed things up. He felt the will that had drained from his meal's body, and he swallowed hard. Ted was now encased up to his belly, and the dog was finally able to raise his head to a more natural position. Ted felt the back of his head lift from the ground and knew it was over. At this point more of him was inside the dog's body than out. The dog swallowed again and Ted's face was now close enough to the muzzle that he could smell the animal's breath. He had smelled it before when the beast was stripping his face of flavor, but it was a different experience now. Now he knew that his own scent was part of the complex must wafting towards him. The smell of Ted himself was among that of kibble and the dog's own flesh and fluids.
 
The swallowing continued and for the first time in a while, Ted became aware of his feet. His toes no longer felt the pressure of the throat. They had popped out into the stomach. Another swallow and he could feel the lumpy contents lapping up against them. George swallowed again and Ted no longer worried about his toes. The dog was up to his shoulders and his arms began to be forced upwards. The Rottweiler flicked his head back and Ted's neck was inside. Never had he felt more vulnerable than now, with George's teeth pressed into his fragile neck. He hardly dared to breathe.
 
Just then, the kitchen door opened and in walked Jeff and Landis.
 
"Really, I feel a whole lot better now, you were right. I seriously apprecia-" Jeff stopped mid sentence as he took in the sight before him. He could scarcely believe his own eyes, but it looked like his dog was trying to swallow his friend whole, and it looked like he was succeeding!
 
Jeff instinctively lunged towards the animal, but Landis grabbed him and held him back.
 
"Wait..." whispered the groomer. "Look where his teeth are."
 
Jeff looked closer and saw that George's teeth were clamped firmly around Ted's neck. He remembered how protective the dog was of his food, and realized that any attempt to interfere at this point could only end badly for the man in the dog's jaws.
 
George was frantic as he saw them come in. He could sense that his master was not happy with what he was eating, but there was no way he was going to stop now. He whipped his head back again and closed his eyes as he gulped even harder than before. He was so close. His meal was almost completely gone.
 
The lower part of Ted's face entered the dog's mouth, and he no longer had a view of his predator. What he did see as his head was forced back, however, was his best friend standing in the kitchen doorway, eyes wide open.
 
"Jeff-" Ted started, but was cut off as George gulped again, this time sealing the man's head completely inside his muzzle. The dog's tongue once again went to work on Ted's face. No acutely aware of the animal's hurried breathing, he felt the pulsating tongue press against the back of his head and he groaned as his face was forced up against the roof of the animal's mouth. Another sickening gulp and his head moved farther in. The ridged roof began to give way to softer flesh, and the tongue worked him over furiously, trying with all its might to taste him as it pushed him in deeper. The smell of the dog's breath was overwhelming at this point, and Ted could hardly breathe. The air that came rushing out from within the depths of the Rottweiler's throat was stale and smelled overwhelmingly of digesting food.
 
Again, the dog swallowed, and Ted was hit with a jolt of adrenaline as his face was forced completely into its tight throat. The folds of the esophagus molded around him and shut out all outside senses. The only sound was the wet squish of flesh slopping against flesh, and there was no air to breathe. Ted was left with the overwhelming heat and an incredible sinking feeling as he slipped deeper into the confines of the animal's body. It felt as if it would go on forever. Even the parts of his lower body that had spilled out into the stomach were pushing against elastic flesh, He felt like he was swimming.
 
The dog swallowed again, and the last bits of Ted's fingers were drawn into the drooling maw. George was able to close his mouth for the first time in a while. He had won. He played around with the fingers still in his mouth, chewing them a bit and mushing them against his cheeks. He stared straight at his owner and swallowed one last time. As the fingers slipped past the back of his throat, he felt an incredible satisfaction. If dogs could smile, George would have had the largest grin the world had ever seen. He felt his meal slide down his throat and finally settle in his belly, now looking a bit swollen. He opened his mouth wide to show that Ted was all his now, sealed inside his stomach where dog food belonged.
 
George laid down and let out a huge burp as his stomach splayed out against the ground. Inside, Ted felt the dog's stomach contract, and he got a face full of half-digested kibble mush. The dog's stomach churned steadily and pushed him all around as it coated him in sludge and digestive juices. There was no position he could get himself into that was comfortable. What was almost worse than being digested by the dog, however, was conversation he heard coming from outside.
 
"He...he ate him. Swallowed him. Slurped him up like a noodle," Jeff was in near hysterics. "What the fuck. What the FUCK!"
 
Landis slapped him across the face, "Get a hold of yourself! We need to deal with this logically."
 
Jeff shivered, "You're right, OK OK, let's see. I have some stuff in the medicine cabinet that would make him throw up, I'll go grab it."
 
"Are you serious? Think for a second. I'm surprised George was able to swallow something that big to begin with. It couldn't have been easy going down, and it would be a hell of a lot harder coming up. Trying to get him to throw up Ted could severely damage his throat, and could even kill him."
 
"Shit, you're right, shit! Well what the fuck do we do? Do we operate?"
 
"Are you crazy? The competition's tomorrow morning! There's no way George would be in condition to compete that soon after an operation. Not to mention the scars!"
 
"You aren't seriously still thinking about the competition at this point? My best friend is being digested right in front of us! He's dog food!"
 
"Exactly, he's dog food. We're still in the running, don't you get it? Trying to take out your friend at this point is a career ending move for the dog! This year's his best shot at the title, and again, think about the scars from the operation. Who knows if they'll heal correctly! George could never win even a low level competition with a huge gash across his belly. On the other hand, if we leave him in, George'll digest him like anything else. He might be a bit fatter than usual tomorrow, but he's a big dog. Even now it's hardly noticeable."
 
"I don't...but I mean, I can't just leave my best friend to die like this."
 
"OK, let's imagine for a second that we do take him in for an operation. I didn't even consider this until just now, but think about it. An attack like this, they'll put him down, Jeff. They can't legally let George live after doing something like this."
 
"I...I never thought of that."
 
"Besides, you don't even know if Ted will survive until they can get him out. There can't be much air in there."
 
"Tha- that's probably true."
 
"You're going to lose at least one friend no matter what, so think about this. Minimize the damage."
 
"I guess it makes the most logical sense to leave it alone then?"
 
"Exactly, now you're getting it. Come on, it's getting late and we still have to finish grooming him."
 
"You're right, OK let's do it."
 
Inside the Rottweiler, Ted was mortified. He had never really considered that he might be rescued until he heard the two discussing it, but now that the opportunity had come and gone, he was paralyzed with emotion. They were going to let him die. They could practically touch him and yet they were going to do nothing to help as he was slowly digested alive by their prize-winning pooch. In fact, they weren't even going to punish the animal, they were going to pretend like nothing had happened and groom him and praise him and take him to the show!
 
Jeff forced the dog into standing position and stroked him to keep him calm while Landis began the grooming. His belly wobbled occasionally as Ted struggled inside, and it bulged out a bit more than usual, but it was otherwise impossible to tell that there was a person contained within the dog. George, of course, was very aware of his meal. The Rottweiler was extremely pleased with himself. Not only did he manage to get away with eating something he shouldn't have, but his owner hadn't scolded him at all, and in fact was now petting him! It was a weird feeling, having so much food in his belly, and even weirder that it was still wriggling around, but George decided it was a good feeling. He noticed that his belly wriggled more when he burped, and he made sure to do so as much as possible, gulping down more air afterwards to keep his treat alive.
 
In fact, Ted was wriggling so much that it was getting hard for Landis to groom George at all. "This is getting ridiculous," Landis sighed, defeated. "Jeff we need Ted to stop wriggling around in there or we'll never get this animal groomed."
 
Jeff gave George's belly a few pats. "Ted, we need you to stop moving, OK? I know it's uncomfortable, but if you keep wriggling around, we could accidentally nick George or something while we're trimming him, it's not safe."
 
Ted couldn't believe what he was hearing. How could they act like that? How could they be so cold to his situation? Just to show his discontent, the man began thrashing around with renewed vigor. He wasn't going to go easy. After about a minute of this, however, he felt the dog's body go tense. He wondered what was going on, but just then, mushy chunks of biscuits and saliva began to goop into the stomach. They were feeding him! They were trying to fill up the stomach so Ted couldn't move anymore!
 
The man had lost all sense of direction at this point. With the added biscuit goo, there was no space to spread out, and with the stomach was constantly shifting him around, it was a constant struggle just to keep his head uncovered. There was also the panic that overcame him every time the dog burped and emptied the stomach of what little air there was. For some reason he kept swallowing down more, but those 5 or so seconds where there was nothing to breathe were hellish. It was hard to really concentrate on anything, but he kept thinking about what would happen to him. He belonged to the dog now. He was dog food even to his friends. Jeff wasn't going to rescue him, and there was no reason for George to throw him back up, so this was it. Like so much kibble before him, he would be mushed around for a while, and digested. The Rottweiler's body would convert what it could of him into energy and doggy pudge, and the rest would be broken down into squishy logs of dog shit. He'd get pushed out of George's asshole, which at this point he was already intimately familiar with, and onto the back lawn, where Jeff would probably scoop him up and throw him away without a second thought.
 
Now that Ted was subdued, the grooming was soon finished, and George was put to bed. He lied down on his swollen belly and fell asleep within minutes, dreaming of the grand meal he had just eaten. Ted was more squished than ever in this position, as he was sandwiched firmly between the entire weight of the dog and the unyielding floor. He too slowly drifted off into an uncomfortable sleep as the heat of the stomach, and its rhythmic churning finally overcame him. He felt himself meld with the kibble and biscuit slush and knew that was it.
 
Unfortunately for him, it wasn't over.
 
Ted was woken up by gushes of sickeningly warm water. George was having himself a drink. The water might've been cold at one point, but by the time it reached the dog's stomach, it had mixed with gobs of warm saliva and mucus, and was indistinguishable from the rest of the stomach's contents. Ted was alive, though he didn't really feel like it. The stomach had begun to take its toll on him. His whole body tingled unpleasantly, and he could barely move, not just because he was bogged down by stomach muck, but because it felt as if every ounce of strength had been sucked out of him.
 
He was still aware of his situation, however, and he groaned silently at every little movement his dog made. It was the morning of the competition, and George was being put through his paces at the arena. His stomach had digested most of the kibble and treats it had contained the night before, and it had compacted Ted so much that it was impossible to tell he was there at all. George did weigh about an extra 125 pounds, but since he was so large already it was pretty hard to tell.
 
At this point Landis and Jeff naturally assumed that Ted was gone, and would never have guessed that their friend was still conscious inside of the dog's belly. If they had known, they might have thought twice about all the biscuits and water they were giving George. Of course, they might not have either. George needed to be in tip top condition.
 
Somewhere a bell rang out.
 
"Shit, ok, it's time!" Jeff was frantic.
 
Landis put a hand on his shoulder, "You guys will do fine. We all worked really hard for this, and we deserve it. Besides, I've never seen George this happy before. You had good taste in friends, I guess!"
 
"Dude, that's not cool," Jeff stifled a giggle despite himself. "But you're right. This is Ted's victory as much as ours. We'll win this one for him, right Georgie?"
 
George gave an excited bark and burped again. The men both laughed and assaulted the Rottweiler with one last round of pets and belly slaps.
 
"Ok, we're off!" Jeff leashed the dog and they ran to the arena.
 
Ted couldn't feel his face anymore, but he knew there were tears streaming down his cheeks. It wasn't fair, this shouldn't be happening to him. He could hear the muffled cheers of the crowd through the thick walls of his fleshy prison. Everyone was so happy. Most had no idea what he was going through, and the only two that did, didn't really care. He cried as the judges giving George an inspection commented on how nice and healthy his belly looked. He cried as the dog pranced around the ring, sloshing him around like a sack filled with gravy. Most of all, he cried when George took first place.
 
The dog was swarmed by fans after the show and he was petted and given belly rubs and fed countless treats. Ted was aware of every chewed up gooey biscuit that slid down the canine's gullet. They rained down onto him and slowly filled the sack of flesh closer and closer to its capacity. He was aware of every happy fan who rubbed the dog's tummy and unknowingly helped the stomach massage him and work on him some more. Finally, the fans were forced out, and George rolled over onto his stomach again for an after-show nap. The position once again made the stomach even more cramped, and George gave one last huge burp, this time not bothering to swallow down another gulp of air to keep his meal alive. Even if he had gulped down another pocket of stale air, however, Ted wouldn't have lasted much longer. The stomach's acids had just about gotten him. The man thrashed about involuntarily as his body ran out of oxygen and slipped out of consciousness for the last time. George didn't even notice.
 
A few days later, George's stomach rumbled and woke him from an afternoon nap. He slowly stood up and wandered lazily outside to the grass. The Rottweiler sniffed around for a bit before squatting down and squeezing out three larger than average logs of shit. It felt nice. Later that day Jeff made the rounds and scooped up the animal's doings, dropped them in a plastic bag with the previous day's, and tossed them into the trash, where they along with what was left of Ted's kibble-covered clothes were carried off the next morning, mixing with the rest of the city's garbage and never seen again.