You relax and enjoy 'massage' the stomach was giving you. It was unlikely that if you struggled that you would get out. So it was better to embrace becoming Widowmaker's tits. You grab your cock and begin to stroke it. Acids were stinging your skin, but it wasn't of consequence to you. You just wanted to jack off, pass out, then be the reason your predator had to go buy bigger bras.
On the outside, the purple skinned woman moaned as she laid down on the floor. Her bloated stomach filled with stewing meat hung between her legs. Lances of pleasure shot to her loins at every churn her stomach made. The sniper swore that she felt her prey mastrubating, but with how his legs were positioned it was hard to tell.
Over the course of a few hours, you body softened inside until you were nothing but a nice meaty stew. The once taught belly now faded to a uniform roundness. Once you began to drain into Widow's intestines everything began to change...
