You huff impatiently. You’re not about to sit here listening to these carousing imps and their blubbering dinner. You’ve defeated hordes of goblins at their best. You have nothing to fear from a drunk, overstuffed pair of them.

“Stay where you are, vermin,” you call as you approach, great sword in hand.

“Oi! Who the hell are you?” The one with a dying woman in his belly said in surprise.

“Back off, human scum,” the other croaked. “This is our camp.”

“Hllllf! HRRRRLLFFF! Plmmmfff, plffsss, hrrrggghhlp!” the poor dinner cried hopefully upon hearing the exchange.

“Don’t even think about it,” the predator warned. “I ate the bitch fair and square, she’s mine!”

“I have no interest in that weakling,” you spit. “Digest away.”

“NMMMMMMGH!” The female shape in his belly sobbed, broken and desperate.

Chuuuuuurgle... his tummy rumbled, boiling away on its squirming, squealing victim.

“Then... what the hell do you want,” he asked suspiciously, eyeing you with dark eyes.

“Only to collect what you stole from my employer. That casket of wine, in fact,” you say, pointing to it.

“Ah. That,” he mumbles, picking his long hooked nose. “Well, that’s a bit of a problem, innit?”

“Right, see... we already drank it,” his partner clarifies.

“I thought so,” you sigh, shaking your head. “Well I’m not explaining that to Bixalby, so I guess you two are coming with me.”

“Now now, no need to be rash!” the bloated one said. “I’m sure we can work something out... isn’t that right, Poodra?”

“Right as rain, Gorbold,” the skinnier one replied, getting to his feet. “What can we humble goblins offer a great warrior such as yourself?”

“Hnnnnnng..... hfffffff..... mwrrrrrrgh...” Gorbold’s snack whimpered, her struggles weakening, her shape softening. You eye the doomed young woman with distaste, offended by her weakness.

“The deal is you two come quietly, and I won’t take your heads off and give them to Bixalby,” you say angrily, trying to intimidate them.

“N-now now,” Poodra stammers, raising his hands in a placating manner. You frown, sensing some underhanded business afoot. These two are acting strange. Goblins are never this accommodating, this diplomatic. “There’s no need for that,” he continues.

“No tricks now,” you warn. “Or I’ll crush you into wine myself to give to Bixalby.”

“You talk awfully tough,” Gorbold muses.

“For someone who’s about to be goblin chow!” Poodra finishes, and in that instant, he shoves you suddenly. It’s relatively weak, and you only stumble back a step or two, but something is now behind you, and you lose your balance and trip over it.

Gulk. You land ass first in something soft and wet, squeezing over your booty, up your back and down your thighs as you fold over yourself. Your sword clatters to the ground, spinning out of reach.

“What the hell?” You grunt, trying to stand. It’s as if you’ve fallen in a bucket, with you knees pinned to your chest and your rump wedged solidly inside. Suddenly, you feel something slithering beneath your ass, and a pair of skinny green hands reach up and grab your shoulders. Your heart sinks as you realize what has happened.

“Nice catch, Hellgut!” Gorbold laughs.

“Hurry now, swallow the bitch before she gets loose!” Poodra urges.

You can’t believe you let this disgusting little imp sneak up on you, but it’s too late to worry about that. You groan furiously and manage to get to your feet, but Hellgut keeps his maw wrapped around you, keeping you in a folded up position. You stand, ass pointed skywards and half swallowed by a goblin. You shake your butt furiously, trying to shake him loose, earning peals of laughter from the other goblins. You blush in humiliated rage, and try punching the little creature, but you can’t get a good angle. He grips your shoulder tight, nails digging into your flesh, and pulls hard, swallowing at the same time. His lips slide several inches further up your torso and down your legs. Panic creeps into your chest, as you realize there really is a distinct possibility you might end up in this nasty imp’s tummy. You wiggle your ass again, putting on a great show for Gorbold and Poodra, who giggle and jeer.

“Some warrior!” Gorbold laughs.

“Dance for us, wench!” Poodra sneered. You lunge are him in a burst of rage, but you stumble and fall on your face, and Hellgut takes the opportunity to gulp down some more of you. He has now reached your armpits and your knees, leaving you little maneuverability. You manage to struggle to your feet once more, teetering precariously. Your head is now almost between your knees, and your shoulders are threatening to slip inside his mouth. He has his hands around your head now, fingers gripping your cheeks.

“Damn it,” you wheeze desperately. “Damn it, damn it! Get the hell off! Get off!” You’re vaguely aware of how stupid you must look. You glance over at Gorbold’s belly, regretting your attitude towards the woman inside. You shudder to see a perfectly rounded, much smaller tummy than before, as you realize she’s been digested, a fate that it now seems you’ll share. Hellgut squeezes your head, tugging with frightening strength. Realizing the next gulp will leave you hanging helplessly out of his mouth, you gather your strength and muster one final maneuver. You jump into the air, leaning backwards, hoping to crush him beneath you. You fall, ass pointed downwards, towards the ground and into his gullet.

Gulphh. The plan backfires. The momentum from the fall sends you sliding down his slick throat, and in that single motion, your entire body slips down and curls up in his stomach.

GWUUUURRRP, he burps triumphantly, give his you-shaped belly a couple of satisfied smacks. You sit motionless inside him for a few seconds, stunned by this turn of events.

“Hohoho, what a joke she turned about to be!” you hear Poodra shout gleefully.

“Silly little piggy!” Gorbold jeers.

“A right tasty little piggy she was, too,” a third voice rumbles around you as Hellgut speaks for the first time. “Smooth and soft as warm butter!”

Overcome by humiliated rage, you begin your struggle anew. “Release me, you swine!” you roar furiously, pressing against the inside of his belly with all four of your limbs, putting every ounce of might you have into it. His flesh stretches out with your efforts, tightening in response and squeezing down against you. Your muscles strain with effort as his tummy fights back, slowly pressing your arms and legs back down against your torso.

Grrrrnnnnn. His stomach rumbles ominously, and you feel wetness creeping up around you. All at once, you notice the puddle of juices pooled around your rump and back, as well as a rancid, overpowering stench.

“Silly human,” Hellgut chuckles, digging his fingers into your body. “Still thinks she’s anything but food.”

“I... am NOT food!” you insist, forcing panic out of your voice. “I am Daxia Dendara, legendary warrior of-“

“Right, you don’t get to call yourself a warrior after what Hellgut done to you,” Gorbold interrupts dismissively.

“Aye, I’ve eaten little tikes that were harder to swallow than you, o ‘legendary warrior’!” Hellgut laughs, causing you jiggle in an indignifying manner.

“I’ll chop you into pieces and turn you to stew!” you swear, but fear is beginning to take the edge off your voice. His belly hardly gives way against your hands now, and it’s almost too tight to breathe. What air you do manage to breathe is acrid and filthy, and the acid is beginning to seep through your armor, tingling and burning on your weathered skin. “Hnnnnngh!” you groan, straining with all your might against his tummy, all in vain. “I won’t die like this... I won’t be defeated by a goblin’s belly!”

“Haha... I suppose it’s time to show you why me mum called me Hellgut!” the tiny predator chuckles evilly.

Gurrrrrrgle... his gut responds, rumbling around you ominously. You bite back a cry of terror, swallowing a lump of fear in your throat.

“G-get me out....” you plead, as the pain builds around you. “Get me out!!”

“No use begging, you’re not getting out till i squeeze your bones out me cheeks!” Hellgut promises, and his companions giggle with him.

You remember the scattered bones littering their camp, and you remember your prideful, dismissive attitude towards them. How the tables have turned! You writhe desperately in his disgusting belly, struggling for escape. “Don’t wanna die...” you wheeze breathlessly, hyperventilating. “N-not like this!”

To add insult to injury, the goblins seem to have grown bored with you and were now discussing something else, content to let you stew away alone, like a some discarded piece of trash. You feel sick to your stomach, terrified and horrified, utterly humiliated, dominated... owned. You pour all of your strength into your struggles now, tears in your eyes, but you can barely wiggle now. You’ve lost.

Churrrrrrrrgle. Only now do you scream, unable to bear the agony and horror. You scream like a frightened child... like a helpless little piggy.

“Oh, shut it, you dumb wench,” Hellgut sniffed. Ordinarily you would be enraged by someone calling you a wench, but you’re too preoccupied with a cocktail of disgust, terror, humiliation, and mounting agony. You strain feebly against the fleshy walls of your tomb as acid boils up around you, stinging and stripping at your exposed flesh and oozing through your coverings.

Grrrrrrrrble. His belly rumbles around you, digesting your body with gusto. You take a desperate final lungful of stinking acrid air before the caustic soup engulfs you entirely, smothering your cries and sealing your doom.

“MGGGFFFFGGGHH! HRRRRRGHK! LLLLLLGHK!” You choke, echoing the desperate wails of the now dead woman you had scoffed at only minutes before. Your consciousness falters, and you realize you can’t feel your arms and legs anymore. This is... this is it.... damn it, this is the end... p-pathetic, you think bitterly, trying not to imagine your broken, pitiful skull popping out of this nasty goblin’s bottom. Sadly, it’s the last though you have before you die.

“So anyway, I was thinkin’ we should head east. Been having a craving for elfish flesh,” Hellgut is saying. He’s aware that you’ve just been digested to death inside him, he just doesn’t care. You aren’t worth mentioning.

“Aye, now that’s a fine idea. Elves are almost as puny as humans,” Gorbold agrees.

“And much tastier,” Poodra adds.

They continue their talk for a bit, relaxing and passing time while a bony soup that used to be you drains through Hellgut’s bowels. Eventually, Gorbold gets up and squats down, pulling his loincloth down to poop out the bones of his dinner. Goblins are small and weak in some ways, but they have a frightfully efficient digestive system, leaving naught but bleached, broken, and brittle skeletons. Just a few moments later, Hellgut prepares to do the same with you.

Ffffffffffffffttthhhh, he farts, as a haphazard collection of your sad bones pops out of his ass and clatters to the ground. Bbbbrrrrt.... pffffff.... frrrrrtthh.... Utterly undignified sounds continue blasting from his rear, accompanied by a powerful stink, until the last of your pitiful remains is expelled. A few scraps of armor still cling to the rib cage, and a few strands your hair, wiry and coarse from digestion, are stuck to your skull, which is broken in two. Without a second thought, Hellgut leaves the sad pile of pooped bones to rot, and the trio of goblins promptly forget you.

An hour or two later, Bixalby rolls his eyes and chuckles to himself as he realizes you aren’t coming back. “Humans are so pathetic,” he sighs.


And so your story ends, in the belly of a creature half your size. You died penniless and alone, stripped of all dignity and respect. The tale of your end will no doubt amuse those who knew you, and they will drink a mocking toast to ‘Daxia Dendara of the Goblin’s Gut’. Eventually though, they will forget you too, and your life will ultimately have meant nothing.