Tinkerbell's snack again
My name is Phil Tiny
chapter 24
by
copier
· original author:
matheson
Tinkerbell lands hard on the ground. Phil does his best to hold on, but the landing was too much. He's sent flipping forward at the sudden stop. He tumbles to the ground and rolls for a bit before stopping.
"Ugh", Phil grunts as he gets to his feet. In front of him, he sees Tinkerbell, mad as hell and hissing. She quickly extends a paw and swats Phil hard, sending him spiraling off to the side. She didn't use her claws, but the impact itself still knocked the wind out of him.
Before Phil can get back up all the way, Tinkerbell walks over and swats him again. She bounces him, back and forth, between her paws until Phil stops trying to get up.
He gets it now. He's already too tired to fight anymore, there's no point in dragging this out. He props himself up with his arms and stares up at Tinkerbell's face. He looks at the cute cat; such an inconspicuous predator. Tinkerbell then looks down and opens her maw. Phil doesn't even move as her teeth lower around him. He looks around as those same familiar wet, pink walls creep over him. Tinkerbell then closes her jaws around his waist, pinning him inside her mouth, and sealing his fate.
Tinkerbell doesn't swallow him right away. Phil feels her taking him somewhere. She's awfully gentle as her teeth hold your waist. He feels her jumping up onto something, then he's lowered to the ground. He wonders if she's going to let him go. His question is answered quickly as she uses her tongue to scoop further underneath his body and pull him deeper, feeding more of his body into her mouth. She does this a couple more times until Phil can feel the hot breaths from her throat on his face. He knows what's next.
Without much effort, Tinkerbell lifts up her head, swallows, and lets gravity do the rest.
Phil slides along the same slimy tunnel he went through yesterday. When his body splashes down into her humid stomach, he takes a minute to get as comfortable as possible. There is a mound of mushy cat food he has to slop through. She must have eaten before Heather left for work, the glutton. 'Oh well', he thinks. 'Nothing he can do now until Heather gets home and pulls him out with the str... Oh no!'
"No, no, no!" Phil shouts as he reaches for his waist and grabs the string tied around him. He reels it in until he holds the severed end in his hand. He was in serious trouble now. How was Heather going to get him out now?
His anxiety builds up; his breathing becomes heavy. He let this happen. He LET the cat eat him, now he was stuck in here until he digested! "Not like this!" Phil cried out. He punched and kicked at the stomach walls, which jiggled elastically in response. He thrashed around violently in a panic, tears flowing down his cheeks. What was he going to do!?
Tinkerbell laid in Heather's bed as she felt the little morsel squirming around inside. She didn't move in hopes it would calm down like before, but as the minutes dragged on... it didn't. On instinct, Tinkerbell drinks some water to settle her stomach.
Phil was still freaking out when the waves of water came crashing in. His eyes widen as he watched the sphincter open repeatedly, allowing water to flood the chamber and splash over him.
Water kept filling the room until there was hardly any air left. Phil had to fight against the ceiling to keep his head above the water and soggy cat food. Since any movement threatened to displace the air, he opted to stay still for a while.
...
A few hours later, Phil realized that the water level was lower. He had been so lost in his thoughts about his life that he hadn't noticed until his head was easily above the water level.
As more time passed, he saw that the waterline was receding again and again. When it finally fell below the halfway mark, the sphincter opened up again. Phil braced himself for another wave of liquid. Instead of water, it was chewed up cat food that made its way in. "Not satisfied digesting just me, huh!? Stupid cat!" he shouted and punched the stomach lining.
A thought came to him then. He didn't notice it, but the food from earlier was gone. The stomach must have been digesting it this whole time. If that were the case... why wasn't he digesting as well? Come to think of it, he digested yesterday either...
He found it all very strange, but it was inviting to think that maybe he was somehow immune to the cat's stomach acid. He guessed that he'd find out soon enough.
Phil's thoughts were interrupted by his own stomach. It growled vigorously at him. He grimaced as he realized how long it had been since he'd had an actual meal. The only things he'd ingested for the past couple days was Heather's fluids and Tinkerbell's saliva.
He looked down at the chewed up cat food laying around him. Frowning, he picked up a piece and brought it close to his face. It was covered in spit and didn't smell all that great... but what else were his options. He took a test bite, trying to ignore the saliva as he chewed through the piece. To his surprise, it wasn't actually all that terrible. Phil started grabbing more pieces before they got to wet and ate until he felt full.
...
In another couple hours, the level of liquid in the stomach was almost empty. Phil took to opportunity to crawl around and feel for the exit to the intestine. He hadn't even thought to look for it last time but, after being stuck inside for so many hours, he was curious. He splashed around as he felt around the rubbery ridges of the floor. His hands run across something that felt similar to the entrance, only smaller. Way too small for Phil to fit inside.
Phil scratched his head. That eliminated the possibility of exiting out the back. The only option left to him was Heather convincing her little "baby" to cough him up.
Otherwise, he might be stuck here a while...
Does she?
"Ugh", Phil grunts as he gets to his feet. In front of him, he sees Tinkerbell, mad as hell and hissing. She quickly extends a paw and swats Phil hard, sending him spiraling off to the side. She didn't use her claws, but the impact itself still knocked the wind out of him.
Before Phil can get back up all the way, Tinkerbell walks over and swats him again. She bounces him, back and forth, between her paws until Phil stops trying to get up.
He gets it now. He's already too tired to fight anymore, there's no point in dragging this out. He props himself up with his arms and stares up at Tinkerbell's face. He looks at the cute cat; such an inconspicuous predator. Tinkerbell then looks down and opens her maw. Phil doesn't even move as her teeth lower around him. He looks around as those same familiar wet, pink walls creep over him. Tinkerbell then closes her jaws around his waist, pinning him inside her mouth, and sealing his fate.
Tinkerbell doesn't swallow him right away. Phil feels her taking him somewhere. She's awfully gentle as her teeth hold your waist. He feels her jumping up onto something, then he's lowered to the ground. He wonders if she's going to let him go. His question is answered quickly as she uses her tongue to scoop further underneath his body and pull him deeper, feeding more of his body into her mouth. She does this a couple more times until Phil can feel the hot breaths from her throat on his face. He knows what's next.
Without much effort, Tinkerbell lifts up her head, swallows, and lets gravity do the rest.
Phil slides along the same slimy tunnel he went through yesterday. When his body splashes down into her humid stomach, he takes a minute to get as comfortable as possible. There is a mound of mushy cat food he has to slop through. She must have eaten before Heather left for work, the glutton. 'Oh well', he thinks. 'Nothing he can do now until Heather gets home and pulls him out with the str... Oh no!'
"No, no, no!" Phil shouts as he reaches for his waist and grabs the string tied around him. He reels it in until he holds the severed end in his hand. He was in serious trouble now. How was Heather going to get him out now?
His anxiety builds up; his breathing becomes heavy. He let this happen. He LET the cat eat him, now he was stuck in here until he digested! "Not like this!" Phil cried out. He punched and kicked at the stomach walls, which jiggled elastically in response. He thrashed around violently in a panic, tears flowing down his cheeks. What was he going to do!?
Tinkerbell laid in Heather's bed as she felt the little morsel squirming around inside. She didn't move in hopes it would calm down like before, but as the minutes dragged on... it didn't. On instinct, Tinkerbell drinks some water to settle her stomach.
Phil was still freaking out when the waves of water came crashing in. His eyes widen as he watched the sphincter open repeatedly, allowing water to flood the chamber and splash over him.
Water kept filling the room until there was hardly any air left. Phil had to fight against the ceiling to keep his head above the water and soggy cat food. Since any movement threatened to displace the air, he opted to stay still for a while.
...
A few hours later, Phil realized that the water level was lower. He had been so lost in his thoughts about his life that he hadn't noticed until his head was easily above the water level.
As more time passed, he saw that the waterline was receding again and again. When it finally fell below the halfway mark, the sphincter opened up again. Phil braced himself for another wave of liquid. Instead of water, it was chewed up cat food that made its way in. "Not satisfied digesting just me, huh!? Stupid cat!" he shouted and punched the stomach lining.
A thought came to him then. He didn't notice it, but the food from earlier was gone. The stomach must have been digesting it this whole time. If that were the case... why wasn't he digesting as well? Come to think of it, he digested yesterday either...
He found it all very strange, but it was inviting to think that maybe he was somehow immune to the cat's stomach acid. He guessed that he'd find out soon enough.
Phil's thoughts were interrupted by his own stomach. It growled vigorously at him. He grimaced as he realized how long it had been since he'd had an actual meal. The only things he'd ingested for the past couple days was Heather's fluids and Tinkerbell's saliva.
He looked down at the chewed up cat food laying around him. Frowning, he picked up a piece and brought it close to his face. It was covered in spit and didn't smell all that great... but what else were his options. He took a test bite, trying to ignore the saliva as he chewed through the piece. To his surprise, it wasn't actually all that terrible. Phil started grabbing more pieces before they got to wet and ate until he felt full.
...
In another couple hours, the level of liquid in the stomach was almost empty. Phil took to opportunity to crawl around and feel for the exit to the intestine. He hadn't even thought to look for it last time but, after being stuck inside for so many hours, he was curious. He splashed around as he felt around the rubbery ridges of the floor. His hands run across something that felt similar to the entrance, only smaller. Way too small for Phil to fit inside.
Phil scratched his head. That eliminated the possibility of exiting out the back. The only option left to him was Heather convincing her little "baby" to cough him up.
Otherwise, he might be stuck here a while...
Does she?
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March 24, 2025
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