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Webbed cords of fishnet left deep, pulsing pink gridding impressed upon Gemma's cheek. Abruptly shrunk by a bright pink flash and quickly sandwiched between polyester coiling and the soft inner thigh of her friend's mother, she experienced an instant and agonizing shattering of identity. Having been tricked via text message from her friend's phone, she now found herself held tightly within the stocking of the older woman, a looming face smiling wildly from above.
Hearing the woman cackle, the shrill voice conducted through the twisted fibers, the inch-tall woman attempted to prod her fingers through the stocking that held her. Her back depressed against the tan field of clammy skin, she inhaled ragged, horrified breaths. Her olfactory system hijacked by a delirium-inducing mixture of sweat and a sickly-sweet perfume, she screeched, raising an arm towards the distant visage.
Gemma's vision blurry with tears, she stared upon the hazy form of her friend Maria's mother, her panicked mind allowed her only to shout "Please!", given that her actual name remained a mystery. Frantically slapping the surface beside her, Gemma grunted, her skin sticky with the sweat of someone who was practically a stranger to her. The immense woman, licking her lips, roughly gripped the black netting of her stocking on either side of Gemma. Immense strength pulled the fabric, pressing it into her inner thigh as though attempting to cube the inch-tall woman like a tomato using the matrix of polyester fibers. Inhaling the scent forced a sensation of uncanny intimacy to course through her veins, the radiant warmth of skin-to-skin contact smelling intensely feminine, with a residue of her rose-scented body lotion mixing into her sweat.
Wriggling, the nude college student felt the cords that pressed against her soak in sheets of her salty, fear-drenched sweat. Forming a strangely frictionless film upon the netting, Gemma shifted her shoulders through one of the tight square gaps, slithering through it like an eel. Grasping one of the nearby fibers, she pursed her lips and winced, trying to kick away the tree trunk-sized thumb and forefinger grasping at her ankle.
Gripping one of the black fishnets with white knuckles, she shrieked hard enough to spray spittle over her shivering hands. Whipping her head back-and-forth in a frenzied panic, she felt herself stretch the netting upwards before snapping it back on the older woman's thigh, forming a shockwave upon her tan skin as though it were flicked.
Excruciatingly cold wind passed her body as she felt herself ascend towards a set of plump, puckering lips. Maroon gloss slathered over her as she tried, in vain, to press the lower lip away with her palm. Alcoholic grape-scented slime oozed through her fingers, drizzling warmth up her forearms.
MWAH!
The kiss thundered through her, zapping her skull with vibration. Wriggling hard, she kicked the wrinkly surface with all her might. Stained with maroon gloss, she attempted to wipe away the glistening makeup, finding her hand weighed down with cords of hot saliva. Breathing heavily, smelling the wine-soaked breath that stained her skin, she slammed both of her fists against the lower lip, landing against the surface with a soft plop.
Her friend's mother responded by enveloping Gemma's head in the center of her puckering mouth, sucking her to the back of her throat, and jetting her down her esophagus in one smooth motion. In less than a half-second, Gemma found her screaming muffled by the peristaltic downward motion of her friend's mother, the person who shrank her down to an inch tall only minutes ago.
Gemma's entire world had changed. From open resistance to tight, restrictive blackness. Tears escaped her eyes, mixing with the cluster of spit bubbles accompanying her during her quick, slimy descent.
Thunderous, feminine moaning echoed around her squirming body as the nameless sphincter spat her out into the roiling sac below.
The gridding of sore, pink imprints where the fishnets were embedded in her skin began to burn first. Running her fingers through her puke-soaked hair, Gemma experienced the cold sting of mortality begin to creep up from within her. Dragging her hands along the rippled surface of the stomach's interior, she felt the mixed stain of makeup, wine, and saliva begin to peel away at her skin in rectangular sheets.