DAY 0:
 
*BANG RATTLE RATTLE BANG!*
 
Your eyes snapped open at the sudden sounds you heard somewhere outside. It was the dead of night, with only the light of the full moon illuminating the area outside your bedroom window. Something was rummaging directly outside your house, and you spent a few moments paralyzed in fear as you listened to determine what exactly it was. Some vigorous rustling, scrapes against metal…a tin can falling against pavement? You realize what was happening, and your mood swings to annoyance. You had forgotten to take the trash can to the curb yesterday, and that could only mean one thing.
 
You dress yourself with whatever clothes you have immediately available and grab a flashlight and some flip-flops. With a frown and a tired slouch, you stepped out through the backdoor and walked around to the side of your house. The lid of your trash can lay on the ground next to the can you had heard. As you move the your light up to the rim of the trash can, you find a ringed and bushy tail swishing in the air above it. Raccoons…
 
A raccoon girl, to be more particular. You’d seen her scampering around the neighborhood at night occasionally. She’d always come the night of garbage day looking to see if anyone forgot to leave their bin by the curb, probably in search for the biggest bounty of trash she could find. Apparently this is what you get for forgetting for the first time. It almost feels insulting that it happened to be your house this time, like she’s really letting you know.
 
“Hey! Trash eater! Get out of my garbage!”
 
You give the bin a kick at the bottom, but the rummaging inside continues regardless. A second kick is just as ineffective. You sighed and rolled your eyes, wondering how someone can be so focused on eating literal trash. Shining the flashlight directly over the can, and you see how she’s almost entirely buried. You attempt to grab at her tail, but it sinks in just before your fingers can curl around it. You kick a few more times before grimacing at what you’re going to have to do.
 
“Fine. You asked for it…”
 
You raise a hand before jutting it into the pool of trash. You knew there’d be nothing too nasty in there, as it was your own garbage after all. Still, digging through trash was not a favorite midnight activity for you, contrary to this raccoon. You wondered how she was able to fit her entire being in the bin without overflowing the thing. Sure she had a petite frame, but she was still taller than the trashcan itself. Must be some kind of raccoon skill, or trash affinity, or something.
 
You keep running your arm around the collection of junk, hoping to feel the furry culprit and drag her out. She was still moving around like crazy in there, yet somehow you hadn’t felt her yet. You dug your arm deeper, putting your shoulder over the rim. You were really getting irritated now.
 
“Come on, stupid trash eater…”
 
Your hand waded through plastic fragments and dry food scraps, not finding anything soft and warm amongst it all. You lean in a little deeper, knowing you’d get her eventually.
 
Instead of your hand finding her, you felt your own hand suddenly grabbed. A quick yank, and you recoil at the sensation of your hand being enveloped in something both warm and wet. You cringe as your mind runs amok on whatever in your trash could’ve induced that feeling, angry at what seemed like her little prank, before pulling your hand back. It doesn’t make it an inch before it gets caught on something, getting stuck at the wrist. You tug again, but find whatever’s anchoring it in place simply won’t budge. What on earth did you throw away?
 
Hoping to free your hand, you drop the flashlight in the trashcan and plunge your other arm in in order to pry away whatever it was caught against. There was a tight sealing sensation against your wrist, but the fingers of your free hand were able open it a bit. But before your hand could slip out, the raccoon girl’s hands grasped your other arm, and it was thrust inward with the other. The seal clamped around both your wrists, keeping them in place like handcuffs, stuck in that uncomfortably moist and almost slimy sensation.
 
“What the…!”
 
You had very little time to question it as you felt a pulling against your hands, and with them being freshly coated in whatever wetness they had been plunged into, your forearms began to slip in as well at an alarming rate. Starting to feel a little scared now, you leaned backwards and tugged with all your might. Your efforts were nonetheless futile as it looked like the trashcan was pulling you in like a black hole.
 
“What is this!? Wh-what are you doing!!”
 
There must’ve been some wet plastic bag or something. But then why was it so warm, why did it feel like it was actively sucking you in, and how far did it go?! Eventually your body had been pulled in enough that you were pressing against the trashcan. As uncomfortable as it was, it at least allowed a brief anchor for yourself as your head floated over the surface of plastic and tin. “Brief” being the keyword there, as with another sudden jolt, your panicked cry was quickly muffled as you were dragged headfirst into the can. Your body flipped over the rim, allowing your legs to kick wildly in the air as you were swallowed up into the trashy void. Miscellaneous scraps of garbage spilt out the sides as you descended.
 
You could hardly see anything as trash obscured your vision. You could only feel as you brushed past all the trash, and your head being pulled into the cramped and moist cavern that your arms had been slurped up into. It got stuck around your shoulders, but another jolt, and they were through. With the broadest part of your body through, there was nothing left to stop as the rest of your body, from your torso to your legs to your feet, slid into the trash. One flip-flop you had haphazardly put on popped off as they entered the wet, baggy area.
 
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*GULP!!*
 
Trisha managed to swallow that particularly large piece of trash with very little issue. What exactly even was that thing? She usually just focused on eating first and probably not asking questions later, but the sheer size of whatever that was warranted her curiosity at least a little bit. Perhaps she could ask the rude dude calling her "trash eater" who no doubt wanted her gone. It felt especially squirmy as it slid down her throat, almost as if it was trying to fight back against her throat muscles and eventually stomach where it was not-so-slowly deposited. Before she could decide to resurface and inevitably confront the dude, she found her belly extending much farther than she had anticipated as the lengthy object slid all the way in and condensed within her belly.
 
She only truly realized the size of what she just ate when she felt her extended gut press against the inside of the trashcan, with her back on the other side, wedging her in the can. She hadn't even decided to resurface herself yet. The added size she had just acquired ended up pushing the rest of the trash upwards, overflowing the bin until it was just her standing there, her belly pressing against the inside.
 
She expected to be yelled at by whoever was there, only to find that he simply wasn't. Trash littered the floor around the pavement, but among it was a flashlight, strangely powered on. Did the dude run away? Was he spontaneously kidnapped while he was yelling at her? Her pondering was interrupted by a rushing of air at the back of her throat, before she belched a flip-flop out onto the pavement.
 
"Excuse me." She said as if there was anyone there to hear it. She decided that it was probably best to leave now while there wasn't anybody in sight. She actually felt full, satisfyingly so, even. The first time in a while. She placed her hands on the either side of the rim and tried pulling herself up. She got nowhere on account of the wedge her belly created. She tried again, sustaining a push upwards with her eyes shut as she exerted all her strength.
 
"Come on…! Ah!"
 
Unable to free herself, she instead knocked the trashcan over with her still inside. It hit the ground with a loud rattle, but luckily her extended belly provided a little extra padding that protected her from the impact. The flashlight shone directly at her as she was now sideways and still stuck.
 
"This is so embarrassing! I gotta go before anyone sees this."
 
Try as she might, her attempts to push herself out only rocked the cylindrical container back and forth, focused on the weight of her stomach.
 
_______________________
 
What was happening?! Where were you!? Are you dreaming!?
 
It was hard not to panic as you were sucked into your own trashcan and coated head to toe in some unknown slime. No longer surrounded by trash, you instead felt a tight constriction pressing around your entire body, dragging you deeper into a place as bizarre and terrifying as it was cramped. It was like you had somehow fallen down headfirst into a squishy waterslide. Your hands, leading the charge, eventually hit a wall. There seemed to be an area just slightly more open at the very end, much too small for you to fit. Or so you thought, before the squishy pocket of open space expanded and stretched as the rest of your body joined your arms, wrapping you in a constrictive hug from all sides as you were forced to curl up. Something hard from the outside squished against whatever you were inside, uncomfortably pressing into you, like a rounded wall.
 
And then finally, you seemed to have settled. No longer were you being dragged in the depths of who knows what. You had reached the bottom, where you sat like a boulder at the bottom of a lake.
 
"H-hello?! Anyone!?"
 
Your calls went unanswered. You tried pushing out against the slimy walls, but whatever was on the outside prevented you from even making a bump. What had even happened?! As you remain in shock, you heard what sounded like a belch, muffled from the other side of the wall.
 
"Excuse me."
 
A voice? From directly above!? No, there was no way. That was impossible. She couldn't have…! You couldn't accept the horrid idea that popped into your head. There was absolutely no way she could've swallowed you whole. She was smaller than you! There was no way her petite form could've pulled you in and stomached you within the span of ten seconds! But the moist, slimy walls…the cramped position you ended up in…the unmistakable feeling of her own hands pulling you somewhere… No! There had to be some other explanation! In pure defiance, you attempted to struggle and shift around, hoping that something at all would happen. As you did so, you felt your body brush against a few solid objects seemingly trapped along with you. Apple cores, crumpled papers, plastic tins!?
 
Before you could question any of it, it felt as if your entire world shifted upwards the shortest possible distance before getting stuck. A tension persisted trying to drag you upwards, only to move you forward more than anything. A falling sensation followed, and then an uncomfortable thump that was barely cushioned by the squishy walls around you. The voice returned.
 
"This is so embarrassing! I gotta go before anyone sees this."
 
Your world shifted to the right, before rolling back left, and then to the right again. Your whines were muffled as the movement smeared you about your slippery confinement. It felt like you were in a malfunctioning washing machine. And it somehow got even worse as the walls began to constrict around you harder than they already did.
 
"H-h-hel-p! Ss-some-one…!"
 
_______________________
 
Trisha grunted as she rocked around in the tipped trashcan, desperately trying to push herself out, unaware of the discomfort she was putting her poor passenger through. Mustering up all her energy, she sucked in her gut, as much as it could go considering its contents, and committed to one final push. She could've sworn she heard a voice as she did, but she was too focused on freeing herself.
 
"Come…on…! Just a little more…!"
 
*POP!!*
 
Trisha launched out of the trashcan, landing on her enlarged stomach which was now able to stretch unhindered. Her bushy tail swished around as she took a few breaths to alleviate her exhaustion. She pushed herself to her knees, only now realizing the extent of her belly.
 
"Oh wow! Did I really eat all that!?"
 
She stared in awe at her stomach, now so large it spilt over her knees. She could hardly see what was directly in front of her, and easily could've used the top of her gut as a table if she so wished. She poked at it curiously, only to be surprised when it poked back at her. Though, it wasn't so much of a poke as it was a thrust of a palm, creating an unmistakable imprint.
 
"Let me out! LET ME OUT!!" Her belly cried.
 
Trisha's face flushed red. She couldn't have. There was no way…!
 
_______________________
 
 "Oh, wow! Did I really eat all that!?"
 
Upon hearing the voice again, and feeling a poke against you, your face flushed red. There was simply no denying it now. You were in the raccoon girl's stomach. She had somehow managed to swallow you whole. And the worst part was, it sounded like it was a complete accident. Gulped up by someone smaller than you in record pace and completely on accident. What that said about you, you didn't want to think about. Your restlessness was rejuvenated at how embarrassing the whole thing was.
 
"Let me out! LET ME OUT!!" You cried.
 
You frantically tried to struggle as best you could, but your limbs were so constricted that your efforts were hindered severely. Stretching out her stomach walls only granted a minuscule amount of extra space for the few seconds you could hold it, and you weren't able to generate any substantial force whenever you thrust your arms and legs out against your living prison. The most you were doing was rattling the random scraps of trash she had eaten along with you.
 
"LET ME GO!!"
 
_______________________
 
Trisha couldn't deny it for long. The handprints and muffled cries for help coming from her stomach proved what should've been impossible. There was a guy in her stomach. When did that happen!? Was he already in the bin? Or…the guy from before…
 
"How did you get in there?!" She asked her belly.
 
"Wh-what…? You ATE me!"
 
Trisha didn't know how to respond. What was she even supposed to do in this situation? Spit him out? How?!
 
"W-well, why'd you let that happen?" She replied indignantly, giving into the urge to be defensive. "You called me "trash eater" didn't you? You should've stayed away then!" She said with an angry pout, growing some questionable confidence in her defense.
 
"What!? I'm not trash!"
 
"Then how'd you end up in my belly?"
 
The struggles in her gut froze.
 
_______________________
 
"Then how'd you end up in my belly?"
 
Your movements came to a halt at her question. The sheer gall she had to say such a thing had you needing to take a moment to even register it. She swallowed you, and instead of apologizing and getting you out right away, she's calling you trash!? Your mind raced to come up with something to counter it, which took longer than you would've liked.
 
"I'm a PERSON! Are you dense!? LET ME OUT!!"
 
You punch and kick around some more, but the results don't change. You were well and truly contained. This couldn't be happening!
 
"Well, I'm a person too! You humans just can't understand that we raccoons simply get these intense cravings from time to time. Why does it matter that what we eat is trash? You should be thanking us! I'm so tired of the insults!"
 
She's really trying to argue with you? Like she has the moral high ground? Like she isn't having you endure the most demeaning and embarrassing moment of your life right here and now?! You can't think much of it before your entire world is lifted upwards. She must've stood up, indicated by the lack of any sort of pressing feeling against a wall or floor, having you dangle and sway within her gut. Whatever parts of you wasn't firmly tucked in was smeared against her stomach walls.
 
"Ww-wah! Hey! S-s-stooop!"
 
_______________________
 
Trisha grunted as she rose. The new weight she carried had her putting in some extra effort to do something so simple, but it was less than she would've expected. She was worried she might not even be able to stand up, but as she began walking, she didn't feel particularly hindered. It was like he was just a part of her body now. Her belly might've swung around, but it did so rhythmically with every step. It somehow felt organic, as if he were a missing piece she never realized she didn't have until now. It actually felt kind of nice…
 
"Hm-mmm! Mmph! M-m-mmmmph!"
 
Trisha ignored the muffled cries in her stomach as she scurried around to the back of his house. After all the noise she had made, it was probably best to lie low for a while, and when she noticed the backdoor of his home still open, she got an idea. She poked at her stomach again.
 
"Hey, I'm going to crash at your place for a little bit. Is that good with you?"
 
"HHMPH!?!?"
 
"Thanks."
 
She gave herself a heavy pat on the belly before rushing into your house. Muffled protests continued to call out from her center, but they were very easy to tune out considering there was a wall of flesh between the two. Yet despite said wall, they couldn't be any more close.
 
"Nice place you got here." Trisha said. She opened up the refrigerator and peeked at the contents inside. It would all look very appetizing was she not already stuffed. "I doubt any of it will be as tasty as you…" She shut it, and quickly located your bedroom. A large yawn escaped her. A yawn to be envious of in your position. "I'm always so tired after a good crave. I hope you don't mind if I hold off on figuring how to get you out until tomorrow."
 
"NHHHHMPH!! MMMMMPH!!!"
 
The bed creaked and moaned under the sudden pressure as the raccoon girl dove into it. The cushioned impact against her belly was nonetheless a crushing squeeze against her passenger. She covered herself entirely underneath your covers, not using your pillow as she curled up into a ball at the center of your bed. Her head was closer to her stomach in such a way. "Good night, trash boy…"
 
_______________________
 
"Good night, trash boy…"
 
"No! Please! You have to let me out now! Don't leave me in here!"
 
The desperation in your voice was pitiful. Almost as pitiful as your restrained attempts at pushing out against her stomach, as if you expected to phase through her gut like a ghost. Was she really going to just leave you here!? The first few seconds were already solidified as the worst moment of your life, but for an entire night?! You push out again at her stomach walls.
 
"Let me out!! Please, let me out!!"
 
You kept on pushing, and kicking, and pleading. Despite all of your efforts, you soon began hearing her snore from the outside. It was embarrassing to realize that even with all of your might, it wasn't even enough to keep her awake, or even wake her up. Truly reduced to a raccoon's belly filling.
 
"LET ME GO!! PLEASE!!"
 
_______________________
 
DAY 1:
 
The intensity of your struggles had waned as the hours passed by, but they never truly stopped. There wasn't exactly much you were able to do from where you were. You could only push against the slimy walls and try calling out for help some more. Both were equally ineffective. You might as well have done nothing at all, but you couldn't bring yourself to rest. When you heard another yawn, and felt as the claustrophobic sack you were in rotate upwards, a second wind rushed through you "seeing" she was awake.
 
"Huh!? You're still in there? And I'm in your house? So it…wasn't a dream then…"
 
"OF COURSE NOT!! Now let me out! Y-yyou said you would after you woke up!"
 
Trisha pouted as she watched her wildly struggling belly. It was pretty pathetic, she couldn't help but think, especially when she remembered she never even tried to eat him. "Trash eater" he called her. She wondered if he regretted calling her that now. She sure was still a little sour about it.
 
"Well what if I don't want to let you out now?"
 
"WHAT?!?! Y-you can't keep me in here!"
 
"I can't? Then prove it."
 
"H-huh?"
 
"Prove you don't belong in my belly."
 
You were in shock. Could she really be so cruel? You had an entire night, and the only thing you could prove was that you couldn't escape her. And you knew that she knew that!
 
"J-just because I can't get out doesn't mean I belong here!"
 
"I don't know. Trash eater and trash boy? I think this was the natural result."
 
"OK, I get it! I'm sorry for calling you that! But you took it too far!"
 
"That's better, but it's not my fault you tried interrupting my cravings. It wasn't even on purpose. That's on you for…being so appetizing!"
 
"YOU ATE ME!! Are you really trying to blame me?!?!"
 
"All I'm saying is that you ending up in my stomach was not my decision. If it wasn't yours either, then maybe that's just a sign it was meant to be."
 
"S-stop talking like that! Just let me out!"
 
"Sheesh, is that all you can say? I'm tuning you out now."
 
"What? No, you have to hmmph mmmph hhmmmph!!"
 
Whatever he had to say, Trisha ignored it. Sitting up in his bed, she stretched her arms out, relishing in the desperate struggles of her belly as it stuck out greatly. She had a very nice sleep. It must've been because of the massaging internal struggles that never really stopped throughout the whole night. It was strange how comfortable having someone in her gut was turning out to be.
 
"Mmmmphmmph! MMMPH!! MMMPH mmmph!!"
 
Maybe he couldn't say the same on the other end. But he kept calling her names, so intentionally or not, he was going to cheer her up. The continuous struggling actually felt very nice.
 
"I'm gonna stick around until your fridge is empty. Then I'll try to get you out." She spoke to her belly.
 
"HHMPH?!?! HHHHMMMMPH!!"
 
"Oh calm down. It's not going to take that long. A single craving will probably clean out at least half of it. It'll be like, another day, tops."
 
_______________________
 
DAY 7:
 
Trisha peered into the mostly full fridge, before shutting it without even taking a single snack. She wasn't getting her usual cravings that raccoons usually get anymore. It seemed that as long as her belly was stuffed with her little occupant, she never even really became normal hungry anymore. A snack a day was typically all she needed. It was nice not having to seek out the largest collection of trash she could find, and not even feel very satisfied by the end of it. She didn't have to worry about the insults and dirty looks that came with it either.
 
She was even wearing something she usually would've gotten the urge to munch on: An XXXL Christmas sweater, intentionally made too large as a tacky practical joke. Gifting it to somebody would be the equivalent of calling them fat. The words "Santa's Got Competition!" adorned the front, surrounded by a couple images of half-eaten cookies. The sleeves were much too long for her arms, but it quite snuggly covered up her belly. The occasional struggles underneath were practically invisible, and the occasional cries for help became even more muffled. She was thankful she had saved it for later from the bin she had found it in.
 
Trisha was having an excellent time crashing at your place. She mostly laid about and watched TV, but every now and then, she'd stroke her stomach and feel for the bumps and pushes you'd produce from within her. She couldn't see you, and she didn't even know what you looked like. Because of that, she found it was easy to forget the dynamic the two of you shared, easy to forget that there was an actual, real person trapped within her being.
 
It wasn't easy for you. It wasn't easy at all. Every minute felt like an hour as you remained hugged on all sides by her stomach. Stretchy wet walls, a claustrophobic darkness, and the muffled sounds of the outside had become your entire world. You didn't even feel like a person at this point. You didn't feel like you existed enough to earn that title. A person is more than the weak struggles of a raccoon girl's belly, and quiet ignored calls for help. She had reduced you to something so demeaning and insignificant.
 
"Hey. You awake in there?"
 
It was the first time she had spoken to you in a long while. You didn't know exactly how long, given where you had been for all that time.
 
"Why…haven't you…freed me?"
 
You wanted to yell at her. You were angry. But you were also scared and tired. You just didn't have that energy in you.
 
"Umm, about that. I've been thinking, and…"
 
What? NonononononoNO! Wherever this is heading, you really don't like it! You needed out NOW! She should've freed you the moment she realized you were in here!
 
"B-been thinking?!?!"
 
"Yeah. I mean, I don't really know how to free you."
 
Nonononono NO-NO-NO!!
 
"Did you try?!?! DID YOU ACTUALLY TRY?!?!?"
 
"I can't just vomit something as big as you out, and if you haven't passed through the other end by now…"
 
"Then get help!!"
 
Outside help ideally would've been a last resort that never needed to happen. This wasn't something you wanted anybody to know about. Being swallowed whole and rendered to a mere pathetic ball within the belly of someone smaller than you was the least flattering thing you could imagine, only made worse with how long you'd been stuck. But if no outside help meant you'd remain trapped, then you'd just have to suck it up and prepare to move far away and change your name.
 
"I have to veto that one. I don't think whatever surgery they'll have to do would be very fun."
 
"SO YOU'RE JUST GONNA LEAVE ME HERE!?!?!"
 
"Don't think of it like that. I'm just letting you take the reins now. I've done all the work brainstorming how to get you out. I'll get back to it eventually, but for now it's up to you to free yourself. You're inside my stomach, so maybe you've got a better perspective in how to get out. So… Good luck!"
 
"I've been trying this WHOLE TIME to escape!! You have to get help!! Hello?! H-hey!! Hello?!?!"
 
Trisha had stopped responding to you, and as your world began swinging around again, it appeared she was done with the conversation, apparently leaving you to use your "perspective" inside of her to come up with some solution. Leaving you alone in the dark and cramped recesses of her gut armed only with your ability to do effectively nothing but show how trapped you truly were.
 
_______________________
 
DAY 26:
 
You spent today as you spent every other: futilely struggling about in raccoon belly. The progress you had made to free yourself did not yet exist. You could only endure every movement Trisha made, from large strides to the most minute twists and turns. You often tried calling out for her, but either she couldn't hear you, or she just ignored you. You felt truly alone, despite how intimately close you were.
 
_______________________
 
DAY 81:
 
The longer you spent in her belly, the more warranted your fears of this situation being permanent became. You had truly lost all track of time. Yet despite it all, you never completely stopped in your efforts to struggle. It may not get you anywhere, but you held on to the hope that, if you could create any sort of discomfort within her, Trisha would be encouraged to get you out of her. You didn't want your life to be nothing more than a prisoner to a raccoon girl's gut, but the simple reality that you had no direct influence in changing that was almost too much to think about. Why hadn't she done anything yet!? You just couldn't allow yourself to believe she'd simply…keep you like this!
 
_______________________
 
DAY ???:
 
After yet another relaxing day, Trisha once more crashed onto your bed, though it was more accurate to say it was hers at this point, even if you technically shared it. Exhausted from staying up for so long, she hugged her huge gut tightly. Already half-asleep, she began whispering sweet nothings to it which she wasn't conscious enough that she'd remember them in the morning.
 
"You're mine. You're aaalll mine~! You really do…belong in there trash boy. Never gonna let you go. You feel too good…in there. Gonna keep you…exactly where you belong~ Forever~!"
 
The most intense struggles in a long time erupted from her belly after she spoke those drowsy words, and many desperate pleas rang out. The commotion massaged her to sleep with a satisfied smile.