A very slight continuation to the Hostbaan YCH pic. (https://aryion.com/g4/view/900656 )

Do you see the difference? Have you spotted it yet?

If not, well... take another close look at Mir's mouth. You'll find a certain... kinky knight... living the vorny dream. XD

I got lucky that HostBaan has some experience drawing humans—a lot of scalie & furry artists don't—and this meant Manamir's beloved, Sir Albrecht Gutermuth, got to make an appearance. :D Also would like to thank HostBaan too, for volunteering her OC… Thames is hers, actually. XD

So why from under her tongue? Well, firstly it's the safest place for him: featuring minimum risk of accidental swallowing and a thick, impenetrable separation between him and her living food. Though it wouldn't matter much as she's licked, tasted, and tossed him around so much that she can instantly and instinctively distinguish him from all her other prey.

And secondly, being there helps them bond. With Albie under her frenulum they can actually talk. She can at least feel his voice reverberating against her flesh, and even hear him if she listens hard enough. The only disadvantage (for him) is that he has to bear with the thunderous ringing of her voice.

If interested in the companion story, please continue below. Happy reading!

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Aaahhhhhhh~" Her mouth neared, impending doom growing imminent. Thames couldn't help but tightly close his eyes and brace himself for the muculent nightmare. Her hot and fetid breath washed over him, its foulness strengthening in potency. The gurgling and smacking sounds of her maw got louder the closer she came, amplifying his primal fears to their utmost limit.

Survival instincts took over right when she was about to close her mouth on him. "Okay!” Thames blurted out. “Okay-okay-okay, I accept! Use me as you will. Just don't kill me!"

Dignity? Integrity? Moral values?

What was all that in the face of death?

When his options were reduced to either an agonizing death in a churning acid bath or a sordid life as her plaything, all other abstract concepts turned to dust.

The moment Thames shouted his acquiescence to the malicious, sadistic giant, the moment he revealed who he truly was at the very core of his being, her jaws snapped shut too close for comfort. Droplets of spittle—each as big as his paws—landed on the wolf’s muzzle, yet they may as well have been small and weightless, for he was too busy celebrating inwardly to notice, too engrossed in relief. That had been too close! Had he waited a little longer, she wouldn't have heard him and he'd have been engulfed in her slavering maw.

The thief stared into her eyes and found her gaze penetrating, boring into him with such intensity that he instinctively shrunk inward. He actually pressed up against the tail that held him captive, that held him high and helpless. It was stunning to see an eerie astonishment dancing in her gaze. His final pleas had struck a chord, it seemed; for once, he felt hopeful. There was a way he could get through this without being turned into scat.

"You… accept?" She echoed his words, her tone laced with disbelief. It was as though she didn't expect him to accept her demeaning, humiliating proposals even after cutting off all other avenues of escape.

Thames suppressed the urge to chastise the dragoness. He was still talking to a giant, man-devouring brute. A monster so large, so massive, that it didn't need to care about others' thoughts and feelings. He couldn't afford to infuriate her, not when his life was at stake.

Even if it meant…

…becoming… her toy…

Thames managed a strained nod. "I… yes," he confirmed, his voice dry. The words hung heavily. A dense shroud of uncertainty filled the air. The wolf steeled his nerves. It was all right, he told himself. As long as he could live a little longer, he'd eventually find a way out of the scummy, degrading hell the dragon intended for him. Even if it meant tolerating her whims, tending to the dark, dirty recesses on her body, or being shoved into whatever hole or crack as she pleased, he didn't believe the torment would last longer than a few weeks.

He'd escape, for sure. Wherever her lair was, there was certain to be some passage she couldn't reach. An opening he could use to return to civilization. With everyone else in the camp reduced to dragon fat, he could always inform the boss that he was the sole survivor. He would definitely pay back the beast for all the revulsion and humiliation he would soon suffer.

For once his sane voice joined with that raving drunkard's in Wolfsberg, neither the Beast Hunters nor the Adventurers Guild would dismiss the existence of the dragon in the lake as fabrication or myth, and he would certainly make sure to be present when the subjugation force finally came to kill her. Thames fully expected the Big Three to attend as well—even that knight who’d retired earlier this year. With their tremendous experience eliminating magical beasts, this dragon would be quickly and devastatingly dealt with as well.

There was no way he was letting this overgrown lizard usurp control of his life—

The dragoness suddenly spoke, "Wow, look at you: so deep in thought! You aren't thinking of sneaking out later, hmm?"

Her words were so accurate that Thames visibly recoiled. "N-n-no, mighty dragon! I, I was just, err, I was just… pondering how best I can serve you! You know, where my fur will feel best, how long I need to be in your, uh, your… ugh, your 'holes', and—

The dragoness huffed. Her warm, moist snort gusted over him. The smell lurking within her nostrils was just slightly less repulsive than her mouth's. "You're lying."

Those two words shattered his momentary flicker of relief. Thames, realizing he was losing control, began to panic. "No, no, no-no-no! I'll stay, I'll stay! I'm not planning on running away!" His paws flailed anxiously. "Really, I'm totally gonna spend the rest of my life with you! I just want to make sure you're—

She began to laugh. Derisive grunts that rang in his ears. "Wow, you tinies really WILL say anything!" The wolf immediately tried to refute this and insinuate otherwise, but she almost immediately cut him off. "You were right, Albie. I shouldn't have doubted you."

Albie. That was the second time she mentioned that name. "Albie? Albie?" Thames swiveled his head, looking for signs of anyone else lurking in their midst. "Who's that? A-another dragon? Your… mate?" He was still hyperventilating. Where was this new guy? What species was he? He couldn't really smell anyone else lingering near the campsite. Based on the scents floating in the air, he was alone with this needy, filthy dragon. The rest were all in her belly.

"Another dragon? Nah!" the dragoness admitted, practically giggling to herself. "But… I guess you can say he's my mate? Kinda? We're still figuring that one out."

Dumbstruck, Thames could not help but feel confusion at her response. Not a dragon, but sort of a mate? What did that even mean?

Strange movements in the dragon's mouth caught Thames' eyes. He did his best to ignore the disgustingly wet smacks echoing in his ears—and the fact he'd just avoided being up close and personal with her putrid maw—and squinted, focusing on her blue tongue. The slobbery thing was quaking, twitching as if something was pushing up against it from below. Then, suddenly, a human arm shot out from underneath the glistening, rippling surface and gripped one of the dragon's lower fangs. “The fuck!?”

The sight of a male human pulling into view, somehow without slipping on all the goopy saliva coating every surface, was so utterly shocking that Thames temporarily lost his ability to speak. All his attempts to curry favor with the mighty, brutish dragoness sputtered out while he took in the absurdity happening in front of him.

How long had he been inside her mouth? Had he been hidden under that corpulent tongue the entire time? Since the vile dragon poked her head out the ground? Question after question formed in the anthro's mind while he took in the glossy, reflective layer of dense, phlegmatic saliva that clung to the stranger's naked body. Even from his perch, Thames could see how the human’s limbs were heavily wrinkled. It was disturbing to consider that all the sapients the dragon had swallowed—all the people she had eaten weren't truly alone when she sent them to their stomach.

The stranger raised his torso, pushing off of the dragoness's fang and the floor of her mouth. The forked tongue was, surprisingly, cooperative; it curved backward. Gave him space. Its two meaty prongs slithered around the stranger’s neck, curling around his shoulders to…

To cushion him.

To support him.

Thames was speechless. “What… what… WHAT!”

“Oh hey Albie! Decided to show yourself now?” the dragon cooed tenderly, her sweetened voice a stark contrast to the sinister one she’d used for Thames. Affection seeped through her entire being, for the same tongue that had mercilessly spread sticky, thick saliva all over the wolf’s fur in a tasting sweep glissaded its tips on this newcomer’s head, scraping its many taste buds on his face.

While the stranger stabilized himself, it became impossible for the confused yet terror-stricken thief to ignore his muscular and sturdy body. His many scars and the robustness of his upper torso appeared even more impressive under her gooey slime. Bubbly globs of drool covered him. It plastered his hair, an arresting auburn hue, against his skin, with tendrils of spit clutching at his body as though he was one with the dragoness's maw. It was astonishing to notice that, unlike everyone else who'd entered that mouth, he was armed—a baldric was the only piece of clothing he had, attached to which was a sheathed sword, a sheathed baselard, and a pouch.

Just looking at the man, Thames didn't need to guess that he was an experienced adventurer. He was more worried, though, about the implications of his fellow captive. Did the dragoness let him carry weapons because she trusted him, or because her innards were tougher than they appeared? Was she keeping him inside her so he couldn't escape in the night, like Thames had been thinking?

…Oh no! Was he also going to look like him? To be like him? Thames could already imagine himself. Haggard, fur oversaturated with gooey mush, perpetually enveloped by slick, flesh-covered walls, attending to his captor's every filthy desire, breathing in her odiously primal scent, and—

The man slapped the bulbous, blue prongs wrapped around his neck. "Yeah, just making sure you understand what I’ve been trying to tell you this morning.” Thames expected the adventurer's voice to be raspy, jaded, from weeks or even months of living with the dragon and her grotesque whims. He didn't think his tone would be as vibrant and energetic as someone anticipating a productive day ahead. “You saw it for yourself just now, didn’t you? Almost everyone will do anything to stay alive—they’ll let you smoosh them in your crotch, shove them into your crack, turn them into playthings…”

Yet it was his crystal blue eyes that sent Thames spiraling—eyes that radiated life and excitement—eyes brimming with such jubilance that it should belong to a man swimming in riches and fame, not flesh and phlegm. He felt his hopes for survival slipping away, for the more the adventurer spoke, the more the dragoness showed how much she was under his influence. “Even let me take them home,” she muttered.

“Exactly,” he said. While the dragoness had her eyes on Thames from the very start, once the man in her maw also fixed his gaze on the wolf, it felt more like she was following his lead, listening to his every word. “They’ll promise you the entire world just to pacify you, and when you’re not looking, they’ll be searching for every chance to run.”

“Ah, like that fox all over again,” she said, sighing wistfully. Her hot, fetid breath washed over the captive thief, making him wonder how the man could endure it all. The passing reference to the infamous drunkard in the nearby city shot past Thames’ head, since he couldn’t stop himself from gawking at her—at her maw and the human bouncing within. “What a shame. I thought for sure I’d find another tiny like you.”

The human was jostled up and down as she spoke, his blond head slapping the twin prongs of her tongue. His lower half was pinned under the serpentine muscle’s bulk, affixing him to the soft, wet flesh. He did not speak at the same time as her—it was not physically possible with all the bouncing around—yet he was shockingly calm and relaxed all the same. “This guy’s like the fifth one you tried this on since we set up the whole ‘bandit trap’ scheme! You’re not going to stop, aren’t you?”

“B-bandit trap? Scheme?” Thames echoed. The pieces of the puzzle were laid out before him, but he was just too overwhelmed to mull over it and realize how he and his party had been doomed to death in a dragon’s belly.

They ignored him anyway. “Of course not!” the dragoness said. “Wouldn’t it be fun if I had two of you!? Albie, just imagine the possibilities! You in my ass, the other tiny in my tum, while I’m giving my clit a furious licking—

“Oh, Mir, you are greedy! You already have me!”

"Hehehe, it's in my nature."

Thames grappled to process the insanity of seeing—hearing these two converse casually in front of him. He couldn’t accept how another person could find himself comfortably nestled in the confines of the dragon’s slobbery and repugnant maw, speaking—no, flirting with her like a couple in the city. “What the hell! I, I don’t… I don’t…” the wolf struggled to articulate his thoughts.

Their banter ceased. Mir, the dragoness, seemed to just remember she still had Thames all coiled up in her tail while the lunatic bathing in her spit chuckled. “First time?” the man leered. “It’s not hard to understand. You just tried to lie to a dragon, and when you finally accept, it turns out that she's already got someone." He snorted. "And I bet you just realized I'm with Mir 'cause I want to be."

Just by scrutinizing this adventurer, Thames had also arrived at the same conclusion. He just didn't want to believe it. Who would want to be in there? Who'd enjoy being gummed up in glutinous ooze everyday? How sick did someone have to be, to actually enjoy life as a dragon's plaything?

The blond madman went on, "Mir? She's fantasizing about a threesome, but she's got herself all deluded that she'll find someone else just like me." Another laugh. "Obviously, that's not you."

Mir grinned down at Thames, her fangs practically blocking the human from view. "Unfortunately, my tiny delectable treat, he's right!" She drawled, her playful tone conflicting with the seriousness in her words. "You might've fooled me if you accepted my offer from the start, but you proved Albie right! At best I’ll just get a few 'oh! moments' out of your fur before you disappear somewhere. Sorry, but I need someone who'll happily move in."

Thames still couldn't keep his eyes away from Albie, who rode Mir's maw without making a single yelp in surprise or flailing his arms around. That human clearly appeared secure, living amid all the rancid vileness, immersed in spit and mucus. Hell, if the wolf had to describe it, Albie looked like he felt right at home. But… that was impossible.

Thames belatedly processed her words, and when he did, he was so flabbergasted that he instinctively replied, "You've got to be joking! W-who'd move in with a dragon!? You probably threatened HIM, too!"

After an awkward pause, the dragon broke out into a fit of laughter. Thames swallowed hard, the weight of fear and uncertainty clinging to his snout. The laughter resounded in his ears, echoing within his skull. She was laughing—even the human had a smug grin on his face. It couldn't be… no one in their right mind would willingly choose this. Let alone being tossed around like candy in her maw, she must've done all those other things with Albie, hasn't she? Thames recalled everything Mir said she'd do to him; shit, had she been speaking from direct experience?

"Wro-ong~~! I just met him at the lake a few moons ago. He was open to some fun, but he loved it so much he asked me if I could take him home! So I did." The dragoness smiled. A rapacious grin, long and intense. She gave off the air of somebody who just got the windfall of a lifetime and was in the middle of enjoying it to the fullest. "The next couple weeks were bliss~! Ahhhh, I was kind enough to let him go afterwards—

"Ha! I recall somebody begging me—mmf!" Albie started to add, only for the tongue tips to reach up, cover his mouth, and press him against its pudgy bulk.

"BUT THEN," the dragoness continued without acknowledging the adventurer's words, "he came back, saying he packed his things and retired or whatever just to be with me!” She glowered at Thames, her voice turning frigid. “No threats, no deals…”

“...No lies."

Thames shuddered. Those last two words sounded like a death knell.

He began shaking his head. That story couldn't be true! He could barely stand the sight and smell of her maw, let alone fathom what the rest of her body had to be like. Two weeks with her sounded like torture to him already. "I wouldn't have gone back," he not so much said as he whispered to himself.

"You didn't need to tell him our story," Albie chimed in. He was gripping the moist, meaty tendril, having just pulled it off his lips. "He'll be literal shit tomorrow morning."

The thief quaked at the words, eyes automatically looking down at the slight bulge in her flesh below. It was a stark reminder of what was set in stone if he didn't find a way out of this. But… he couldn't think of anything! Even if he could squeeze himself out of her tail's grasp, he was too high up. What could he do? What could he say? Thames' "promise" was worthless when this Mir had a fucking nutcase who was happily doing everything she wanted, treating her like a damned princess!

"It's for practice," Mir answered the adventurer.

"Practice!?" cried Albie. "What, for my friends?"

"What else?" she exclaimed. "Didn't you tell me two of 'em are dragonslayers? I just wanna make sure they know you're with me, willingly."

"You're wasting your breath. Everyone we talk to is just gonna see a giant, lake-dwelling sea dragon who's keeping their friend captive! Just let me handle 'em when the time comes. Besides, Franz and Beris already know about you—

As soon as the human mentioned the other names, a glint of recognition suddenly sparkled in Thames' eyes. The mental picture formed in his mind very quickly, and when he processed the information, he gasped… and started coughing, unable to handle the foul miasma that was her terrible breath. "You… you're Albrecht Gutermuth!" he spluttered. "T-the Steadfast Raznagora!"

Thames hoped he got it wrong. He prayed he was just a lookalike, because if he was really the knight-errant, the wolf knew he'd been doomed from the moment the dragoness showed up.

"Aye. That's me." Thames' hopes sank beneath an endless despair the second his suspicions were confirmed. "But I retired months ago. Left it all to be with Mir." Albrecht leaned over the dragon's billowing tongue and, face slipping between her fluttering, caressing prongs, kissed the mucus-covered sulcus, not caring at all for the pale threads of slime clutching at his nose. "She's my world now."

Albrecht probably would've added some more to that, but the dragon didn't give him that chance. Her snout suddenly snapped shut. Thames could see movement in her maw. The back of her throat moved, as though she'd swallowed something, but it didn't come with a telltale bulge.

As this was happening, Thames was screaming inwardly. No wonder she had designated 'Albie' as a pet name. It was short for Albrecht! The knight-errant also had his signature weapon on him. How didn't he recognize the knight earlier? Had Albrecht been inundated in so much mouth goop that the thief failed to recognize one of Wolfsberg's Big Three without his armor?

Thames' sharp mind quickly assessed his situation. The human he remembered was an adherent of rules and order, always blathering about some chivalric code of a kingdom long dead. Laymen all over the continent loved him for that, and after many years of active duty, he'd grown into a fearsome warrior with an inflexible moral code.

Sir Albrecht Gutermuth was someone that the Coterel Gang and other groups in Koprivnica wanted dead, yet there were no signs that he'd lost his touch during the months he retired and became a dragon's living toy. If anything, he was staying in shape. Worse, he was slowly influencing the lake-dweller, training her to prey on bandits and rogues. The dragoness even considered Albrecht to be something close to a mate, and the feeling was ostensibly, flabbergastingly, mutual.

The more Thames thought about his situation, the more he understood he was well and truly fucked.

"Plah~"

The dragoness reopened her mouth. Albrecht remained where he was, propped up on her curled tongue, though Thames knew Mir could've done anything in the ten seconds he was hidden from sight. It was nearly impossible to tell.

Just as it was nearly impossible to divert his gaze from the massive, bubbly glob of phlegm gathering around the back of Albrecht's head. It was practically pulsating. Thames grimaced. "Eeeew…"

"I used to think the same, but, eh, it comes with living with a dragon." Shrugging, Albrecht reached for the blob of slime around his head and neck, brought it to his face, and, to Thames' horror, slurped up the entire thing. The amount was equivalent to a large mug of beer—two of them—and the ranker chugged it in seconds. "Ahp!" He belched, smacking his lips like he'd gulped down a sweetened drink. "A bit fruity this time."

The dragon giggled. "Your favorite. Nice!"

Thames was gagging, dry-heaving. "Fuck! You… you're sick!"

"Franz called it stupid," Albrecht said, chuckling. "But I'm sure he'd have said the same thing." The man did it again, cleaning up the gunk on the patch of tongue cushioning his matted head. "Way I see it, it's liquid food in unlimited amounts. All you can eat."

The wolf couldn't take it anymore. He retched, hurling his last meal. "Bleeeegh!" The dragoness didn't flinch even when a portion splattered her fins.

Albrecht wore a facetious grin. "It's a very acquired taste. That's how I reacted before, too."

"To everything except the part that matters most," Mir butted in. "You were REALLY addicted to my vag from the start!"

The knight-errant didn't even deny it. Neither did he flinch when his dragon also let out a low growl, forked tongue caressing his head. "And you still are~! Bet you're all lubed up by now…"

Thames returned to the conversation with a hoarse voice. "I don't get it." His stomach churned. "I don't—why? Just why?" The wolf had always despised the Big Three for what they did to his career in their early days, and although he had a particular hatred for Albrecht and his unbending chivalry, he respected it to some degree and it bothered the thief to see him—to hear him enjoying all this grotesqueness. "Y-you're strong. You're… you're respected all over. You can even kill that beast at any time—

Albrecht cut him off. "Yet here I am. A dragon's companion."

Mir joined in, verbalizing singsong. "Hey~ you forgot joy toy, mouth toy, pussy plug, masseur, toothpick, cave mate, and, uhmmmm, aaand… What was that word you just taught me? Etcetera, etcetera?"

Thames had nothing to say anymore. Nothing to add. By now, he could only shake his head in disbelief, unable to form words. Unable to even conceive a reply.

"Is it sinking in, doggo? Everything she said she wanted to do, we already did it. The digestive aid thing… well, we did that, too." He said the last bit with a smidge of hesitation, and a slight frown.

"Albie, you're leaving out so much more!" Mir trilled, her bulky tail sweeping across the ground and demolishing what was left of the Coterel camp. "Much, much more!"

She stretched her dark, slobbery tongue over Albrecht to wet her lips. Thames' gaze refocused on Mir, for there was now a dangerous gleam to her large, hazel eyes. Intent also filled her gruff, guttural chuckling. "Anyway, I think we're done here. My tummy's ready for dessert." Her tone was casual, as though she was simply discussing something mundane.

Oh no.

Albrecht replied, "So you learned your lesson now, or is there gonna be a sixth talker next time?"

"No more," she said. "It's clear that I'll never find another precious treasure like you."

"Now you know," Albrecht said. "Okay, Mir, go and eat! I still gotta sift through their loot after our lunch climax."

Oh no, no, no…

"With pleasure," cooed the fishy beast.

Mir reached out with her forepaw and painfully clutched Thames by his thick, furry hide. "Nnnnghh!" he hissed, feeling her claws break his skin. The distraction didn't last long. As her great, cavernous maw loomed, his mind forgot about the mild pain and started to catalog the intricate details of his fate. He was mesmerized by the way her jaws unhinged to accommodate him, the ridged roof of her cerulean maw gradually replacing the sky, and the all-encompassing aroma of the dragoness—a most foul and fishy flavor, mixed with the fumes of stale meat and other fermented matter. The daunting sight stole Thames' ability to function, and a whimper escaped his lips.

"Squirm a lot for me, okay?" the dragoness purred. "Your friends stopped moving a little while ago."

Just beneath his dangling legs—perhaps two strides apart—Albrecht chimed in, a vengeful delight in his voice. "Yeah, put up a good fight! She LOVES wrigglers! There's—" His sentence was cut short as the forked tongue bore its huge and flexuous mass down on him. With practiced ease, she unceremoniously swept the knight-errant beneath its flabby yet sinewy trunk.

It took only a moment. Thames would have missed it if he'd blinked. The fleshy, squishy sound it made was no different from all the other babbling smacks assaulting his ears.

Now, her mouth was as it originally seemed to him—a rancid, malodorous chasm, slathered in slime, thin columns of drool connecting the bony ceiling to a wriggling floor, with an ominously dark and narrow passage at the very rear. Thames watched the hole at the back flex and dilate with bated breath, sending hot, acidic air to his face. It was pungent, smelling—reeking of blood and vomit.

From afar, the dragon's deep, azure maw showed no signs of occupation. Only when Thames was dangling above her waiting tongue, which had unfurled like a grotesque carpet, did he recognize the scant signs of Albrecht's presence: brief glimpses of his extremities, a slight elevation in the tongue's slippery underside, the occasional strand of blond hair stuck to the blue walls, and an extremely faint scent that had an unmistakingly human quality to it.

It was a bit unnerving, thinking how none of the anthros who'd gone before the wolf realized that someone had actually been listening to their final screams.

It was more unnerving to realize that one of the most prominent adventurers in the land—one of the Big Three—enjoyed stewing inside this horrible, hellish pit.

Thames quickly, easily, forgot the knight-errant and his perverse tastes the second Mir tossed him into her mouth. Terrified by the sudden lurch in his belly and the hastened descent, the wolf screeched, screaming as the drooling surface came closer and closer.

Nom!

The instant he landed on the bumpy surface, everything went dark. The dragoness clamped her jaws down on Thames' entire body. His dry fur—his mostly dry fur was instantly drenched in the foulest saliva. Gobs of slobber matted his scraggly fur, gumming his ears and, worse, leaching into his own maw as his world was reduced to a claustrophobic crawlspace, where the soft and squishy walls were constantly shifting about, slapping him, battering him, tossing him to and fro. Accompanying the nauseating chaos was a cacophony of deafeningly thunderous slurps and splats.

Thames couldn't scream without the copious saliva flooding into his throat and overriding his mind with the overpowering and primal flavor of that damned fish dragon. Bone-chilling terror filled the wolf once he realized he could no longer smell the outside world in spite of the fluttering shafts of light illuminating all the grotesque flesh around. Thames attempted to recover some semblance of stability, only for the dragon's tongue to lurch and spin, its rough surface grinding into his spit-soaked fur, exploring every inch of him.

Another roll, another curl of her sinewy tongue scraping his body had the entire chamber rumbling in pleasure. "Mmmmmm~"

Whether she hummed on purpose or not didn't matter; it terrified the thief all the same. Thames spat out as much slime as he could, but it was a futile effort with the smell, taste, and aroma of the dragoness permeating everything. Everywhere he reached, everything he touched, everything he smelled… it stank of dragon, reeking, reminding him exactly where he was. He squeezed a desperate plea, "Please, let me go! Please—

Mir pinned him, tongue lapping at his face. Fat prongs slipped into his mouth, one after another. Its silencing effect was far better than any gag. Thames, in his desperation, tried to bite on the slimy, gooey muscle, only to end up with the foul taste of Mir's spit infusing his breath. Since that didn't work, Thames fought and wrestled against the serpentine muscle as though it would change his fate. Yet Mir's drool was not just foul to the nose, but also so dense that it weighed him down, weakening his ability to resist.

Parting her maw, Mir blasted Thames with acerbic, vomit-smelling air straight from her stomach. "Yuuuuck!" Even as he gagged and felt sick to the core, his blood ran cold when the light briefly shone in and showed just how close the wolf was to the hole in the back. Her uvula guarded the enclosed opening. Clear mucus had formed a translucent yet bubbly curtain that ran from top to bottom. A macabre decoration emphasizing her esophageal passage, if not biologically dressing it up in preparation for a long-awaited treat.

Such a profoundly disturbing and grotesque sight filled him with horror. The light did not last long, not with Mir shutting her jaws seconds later and resuming the relentless motion. Trapped in this dire situation, Thames racked his thoughts for a way out.

For ANY way out.

Then he remembered—he wasn't alone.

"Raznagora!" Thames shouted above the wet noises, not caring whether this hellish, churning maelstrom rendered it incomprehensible. "Tell her to stop, please. It's me, Thames! We were at the Adventurers Guild together! Gods, I don't want to die like this!"

Mir kept licking and tasting the wolf while he begged, burying him into her palate and rolling him from one cheek to the next. All the chaotic movements made him dizzy, and at one point, he wished she'd just end it quickly and crush his head in her teeth. Yet she didn't. Mir clearly wanted to take her time with him, to let him know he now belonged to a dragon before sending him to her belly. Could she feel his voice? Could she even hear him? Weren't they all sapients? Why did she toy with them like this?

In a fleeting thought, Thames wondered how Albrecht could even love this vile and odious realm, where everything smelled foul, dripped thick ooze, and perpetually slurped things around. Mir must undoubtedly toy with the human and fling him all over her slobbery maw in their own time.

To think that he chose this. That Albrecht chose the damned dragon over glory and fame for the rest of his life in Wolfsberg and beyond!

The wolf was outraged. How dare he!? He and his three-man party were responsible for putting him on the path to thievery and burglary to begin with! "Raznagora!" Thames yelled, managing to grasp the opportunity to scream with a clear voice. He began to fight back. This time he punched and pulled at the slippery muscle, not to drive it off, but to get to Albrecht.

Because if Thames could take him down into the belly with him, the dragoness would have no choice but to regurgitate them both.

Mir's tongue continued to strike him, supersaturating him in her spit. He was disoriented. He couldn't smell himself or the outside world. A slimy sensation crawled in his throat. It tasted of pure, unadulterated dragon.

A lesser man would've gone limp from despair.

A survivor would struggle to the bitter end.

"RAZNAGORA!" He wrapped his arms around the thick muscle and attempted to lift up the whole thing. "Fuck you! And fuck your beast!" Thames knew this was a desperate gamble, but he had no other choice—it was his final card. "When I get my paws on you, I'll"—the dragon's tongue lurched, its slick, phlegm-coated bulk slipping out of his grasp—"Oh, come on—BLARGH!"

A brutal punch smashed into his snout, abruptly cutting off his threat. He dropped on the taste buds with a revoltingly moist splat. "Not in my living room, you won't." Albrecht's voice was clear and confident amidst their dark and slimy confines. It carried a spontaneity that clashed starkly with the torrid, cloying viscosity of their surroundings.

Living room!? He actually compared this clammy, repulsive cavern to a living room!? That comparison was worlds apart—

"Always knew it was you, Thames. Honestly, I wanted to kill you back then. I just couldn't because of my Code. You never learned your lesson, and now you're about to become my girl's lunch. Fitting."

Thames had recovered from the stinging blow by the time Albrecht was finished. Even Mir's mouth had become a little calmer, with her tongue folded back and slinking by his back. It was an opportunity worth his gold—worth his entire life!

Thames sprung forward. Though he slipped midway, the momentum kept him barreling forward. "Take this, you bastard!"

The antho's retaliation was futile, his fists landing with a sickening squelch as Mir's thickly-coated tongue bulged to block him. Another slurp boomed in his ears, and Albrecht was gone the next moment—a skillful display of teamwork by his dragon.

His voice, however, filled the tight, drooling space, echoes bouncing off the fleshy walls. "You deserve what's coming to you, coward!"

A horrific revelation finally dawned on Thames. His breath hitched with dread. He was going to die here. He was going to die surrounded, enveloped in tight, muculent flesh, drowning in the blood of friends. His mind flashed back to the first time he'd seen the human knight reveal himself and with it came the belated reminder that Albrecht actually had weapons—that he was not the first person to be devoured like this.

The Steadfast Raznagora sounded far too relaxed, yet his strike had carried the full weight of his fighting experience. It was evident that he and his filthy dragoness had put a staggering amount of time and effort into their literal mawplay. As long as Albrecht remained in her mouth, he was akin to a magic swordsman, never knowing whether he'd reappear in front, behind, or to the sides. This was his realm as much as it was hers.

Thames felt all his hope draining away. At last, he let himself fall limp. He curled up into a fetal position, sobbing, weeping, genuinely accepting that this was the end for him. He didn't even realize that he'd been touching her uvula, that gravity had oriented him downward, not until the flesh-covered walls constricted in on him, squeezed him, and pushed him with an irresistible, peristaltic wave, the whole process echoing with a resonant…

*GULP*

Thames had a knack for surviving anything life threw at him.

He grew up with parents who beat him day in and day out—a pair of trash he took pleasure in murdering shortly before he entered adolescence. Over the years he spent thereafter in the criminal world, the anthro lived through multiple attempts at his life, whether he faced surreptitious assassins, groups of thugs, or hired adventurers.

His secret?

He constantly prepared contingency plans.

He practiced running everyday, vaulting and scrambling over obstacles as fast as possible.

He maintained, at all times, the ability to create enough space—enough opportunity—to flee for dear life and live another day.

Death could never catch Thames as long as he had room to run.

Today, none of his tried-and-tested strategies pulled through for him.

There was no way Thames could have prepared for a dragon he’d only heard about in hearsay and unreliable rants from the mouth of an infamous drunkard. Neither could he even have known about the renowned warrior hidden in her maw, ready to intervene at a moment's notice.

His most crucial talent—his speed, his agility—was useless in the face of a monster as large as a hill yet as swift as the other magical beasts in the Dinaric Forest. It would've been impossible to sprint for his life to begin with, not with Mir focusing her attention on him.

And now, he was in a tiny room with no routes of escape. Rugose ridges lined the churning stomach, scrunching the claustrophobic prison and crushing him into flesh, gastric acid, and the remains of his party. The abhorrently sour stench was at its absolute worst, reminding him constantly that he was swimming in vomit, that he would soon become part of it. The only two exits were impossible to distinguish in the darkness and just as impossible to pry open. There was no help coming to this hellish cesspit, not when one of Wolfsberg's Big Three sentenced him here.

Thames ceased his cries for mercy. He fought against the dragon's belly to the bitter end. The wolf swiped the walls and bit at them, trying to draw blood and induce vomiting. His vain attempts were all met with a pleasant, if contented, rumbling from the dragoness. Thames' screams of agony—his screams of rage—all of his desperate struggling was muted by the thick, enclosing flesh.

Only when thunderous vibrations started reverberating across the rugose chamber, accompanying the faint sound of a roar and the sudden, tumultuous collapse of the stomach walls, was the thief silenced. His end came with a series of sickening, soul-shattering snaps.

All those years living his life on the highway, surviving all sorts of adversities, Thames never expected that he would die as dragon food.

To add insult to injury, all the energy and nutrients that Thames' life had to offer merely replenished what had been expended minutes after the dragoness curled her tongue behind her precious Albrecht and pushed him head-first into her most intimate depths, the pungent folds within welcoming her beloved back with ecstatic squeezes and a flood of his favorite drink.

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END. That's all she wrote! Until next time~

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