As Blake's environs stretched and distorted, from Citrine's subtlest of motions and reactions, he struggled to calm himself. Between the meaty, overlapping folds of abdominal flesh, blocking out all the world, a single of clarity came to the college-age mage. If he could will himself to cast some magic in this form...

He whispered, mouthlessly, "The sight of the world, eye in a sky clear - lend me this voice, lend me this ear."

The bulging, pulsing shakes stopped for a moment, in a single flash. Citrine's voice again: "Hello? Who's that at this time..."

Victory! Well, a small win, inside this belly. Blake yelped: "It's me! Citrine, don't move again - I'm in your chub right now!"

SMACK - almost instantaneously, another palm struck him hard.

"Owwww..." Even connected to her body, he could still feel the pain jolting through.

Citrine groaned, too. "Sheesh. That hurt me, too, you know... Be more careful with what you call it." Her inhales slightly opened up the walls of muscular and fatty tissue, loosening his space. "Now, how did you get in there? This isn't a recording or something, right?"

Blake started. "Uhm, this is awkward, but do you... believe in magic...?"

She paused for a moment. "Like in these D&D books?"

Blake tried to nod, but only found himself slightly shaking a lump on the stomach. "I, uh, I've been looking up... Magic to make me strong, and impress you, and I... turned into that soda you drank..."

Thinking back to the empty can, Citrine swallowed. She had to take time to think over these facts. A young man inside her stomach, declaring his love...