Harmon wanted to scream, but he knew he needed to conserve oxygen. The warm slick walls of Chelsey's stomach were squeezing him from every side with a strength that seemed impossible. He could barely manage to breathe at all and every time he attempted to move or shift in any way, the pressure increased until she was nearly crushing him to death. He could hardly believe this was how he was going to die; digested alive by a twenty one year old girl. It sounded like the punch line to a joke nobody could remember.

For the moment, he just focused on taking small steady breaths. There was air in the dark confines of her belly, which meant he wasn't going to suffocate so long as she didn't decide to smother him. He could feel her legs bumping against him, causing him to sway back and forth as she walked outside to her car. When she got in, he did his best not to test her with any sudden movements. She struggled all the same to adjust her seat far enough back to make room for the both of them while still allowing her to see. She rubbed her side again, where his left arm and leg were scrunched up together. Her breathing was labored, the sound like a slow whistle that played behind the rapid thumping of her heart which seemed to echo inside of her.

She was frightened. She had right to be, he thought. When the main office fails to get his call in the morning, they'll send someone nasty to close up the whole business and that will be the end of her...and of him, either way. Harmon thought a moment, trying to ignore the severe pain in his upper spine from being forced into such a tight ball. He was sweating, he thought. It wasn't unbearably hot, but it was warm and over time it would become unbearable. Already what little air he could inhale was becoming thick and damp.

“So what's your plan,” Harmon rasped, trying to speak clearly despite barely having enough air to push the words past his lips.

Chelsey didn't respond right away. Her arm pushed him against the door as she took a left turn and he thought that she must not be able to hear him until she took a breath and replied.

“Nothing that concerns my dinner,” she said tartly, “Now be quiet or I'll stop giving you air.”

Harmon nodded to himself. He had thought he felt her navel opening and closing ever so slightly just behind his back. She was keeping him alive on purpose, but why? To enjoy his fruitless struggles as she slowly digested him?

“You won't be able to go out in daylight carrying me around like this,” he said.

“Oh, you'll be long gone by the time the sun goes up,” Chelsey shot back patting her belly over the top of his head, “Then you'll see just what you're dealing with and you can answer all those nagging questions that your secret society has.”

“What does that mean? How will I answer if I'm dead?”

Harmon gasped loudly as Chelsey tensed her stomach muscles and squeezed him mercilessly until his shoulders and lower back popped. His breath was gone. In a panick, he strained every muscle in his body, trying to move anything to free any part of himself but she was too strong and he was out of time. He passed out in silence as she pulled into the parking lot behind her house.




* * *




Chelsey took a quick look around before getting out of the car. The street was empty, her neighbors houses were dark, save for a few dim lamps and the flickering of the television in Tim Patterson's second story bedroom across the street. She swung her legs out and heaved herself up from her seat, gently shutting the car door behind her as she slowly waddled towards her front door. Bill had passed out, his body feeling heavier in her stomach somehow now that it was dead weight. She could feel his heartbeat though and it was steady. She didn't want to hurt him...much. If what he had said was true, then he was probably some kind of hero. Unfortunately for him, that made her the villain and she had no desire to be foiled or defeated or whatever his agency had in mind for her.

After squeezing through the front door and locking it fast, she went straight to her bedroom and changed out of her work clothes and into her pajamas. The soft pink bottoms, she was able to get up just over her butt, but the top she had to leave unbuttoned for the time being. When she felt more comfortable, she carefully removed the bottom drawer of her dresser to retrieve the box hidden underneath. She placed it on top of the dresser and unlocked it with the key she kept on her keychain, then took out the thick leatherbound book inside. Her notebook. It had been hard to concentrate on the drive home with Bill shifting around inside of her, but now the angles were becoming more clear to her and upon seeing the symbols and drawn out equations the spell crystalized in her mind.

Chelsey turned the pages, akwardly reaching over her belly to do so, until she found the desired sequence, then looked up into the mirror before her and began the chant. She felt Bill beginning to stir again and grasped either side of her belly to hold him still as she focused on the symbols so painstakingly drawn in her notebook years ago and continued the ritual. He gave a sharp kick that sent a tremor down through her loins, making her feel just a little bit weak, but she couldn't divert any of her energy to restrain him now. As though sensing this, he began to wriggle more freely, his head bobbing beneath her breasts, arms sliding around under her skin, hands grasping for purchase while his legs pushed down as he searched desperately for a way out. His breathing was ragged. She could feel his panic and she knew she had to work fast or he would find some way to injure her.

She pressed in on both sides with her hands, arching her back and beginning a slow wave with her abdominal muscles that became less than a shrug to her massively distended stomach. Bill let out a muffled scream. Hearing this, Chelsey almost lost her focus, but regained it an instant later, staring into the mirror now, watching her stomach begin to slowly shrink as the man inside of her was sucked down deeper into her being. He twisted and turned against the constraining walls of her belly, hands clawing uselessly, his shifting weight almost causing her to lose her balance as sudddenly he was facing forward. She could feel his legs then his torso sliding deeper down through her complex inner workings, her middle shrinking until only his head remained still physically lodged just above her belly button, his face pressing out against her skin, mouth gaping in a soundless cry.

Chelsey buttoned the top of her pajamas, parting the lower half like a curtain and staring at the face beneath the pale skin of her slender stomach. It tickled when the mouth moved, trying to form words but unable to make even a whisper now. She rested a hand over the eyes and pressed down, rolling her belly and shifting her hips until at last she felt his head slip inside the pocket and no sign remained of Officer Bill Bennett but the slight quivering of her belly button as a small hopeless breath escaped into the still dark air of her bedroom.

“Okay,” she sighed, “That's taken care of. I hope you like it down there in the belly bank, Officer. You're going to be there for a long time.”

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