You nod weakly, staring your cousin in the eye as she smiled softly at you, stroking the lump you made in her gut, her newly enlarged breasts sitting just above the outline of your skull reminding you of the time Maddie had “Mickey Mouse’d” you when you were in high school.
“All right. Sit still, I don’t want to damage your skull.” Mira said as she scooted off of the bed and strode closer to the dresser, leaning in as she retrieved the tablet. With a sense of resignation, you allowed yourself to slide about in her gut as she moved, no longer feeling the will to resist something so trivial in your last moments.
Waiting for the inevitable, you ease back into a slump with your eye on the tablet as it lay propped against your thigh. “I’d ask if you have any last words, but you don’t seem able to talk anymore.” Mira says as she sits down on the yoga mat laid out against one wall. With her feet flat against the wall itself, and you held against her thighs, Mira sets down the tablet and says to you, “Thank you for being such a good meal, Max. I love you.”
Then, with a deep breath, Mira flexes her abdominal muscles and you feel the force of her stomach contracting, bearing down on you from all directions, like an immense weight. The image of Mira in her yoga pants and tank top from the photo she sent last night pops into your mind, abs firm beneath her skin and covered with a thin sheen of sweat. A sense of dread takes root in your mind as you imagine being crushed in such a tight stomach, but with her arms wrapping under her knees, Mira pushes and pulls herself forward with all her strength, and you never finish the thought.
