Terry's Digestion Tiny Terry chapter 6 by KoroKoroAi

Glrk.

A convulsive, unstoppable swallow rippled through the mouth, a symphony of pure muscle. His pathetic resistance was nothing. The slick, muscular walls of her throat opened in a peristaltic kiss, and he was sucked in.

The slide was a hot, tight, suffocating embrace. He was plunged into a pulsating, slimy tunnel, the walls squeezing him rhythmically, milking him downward. It was a wet, living, organic elevator shaft descending into her core. The pressure was immense, molding his tiny, naked body to the shape of her esophagus. He tumbled, head over heels, in a dizzying spiral of heat and slick mucus and the smell of digesting chocolate. It was like being churned in a warm, fleshy, washing machine.

Then, with a final, wet plop, the pressure released. He was spat out into a vast, cavernous space.

Her stomach.

The air - what passed for air - was thick, hot, and heavy with the acidic scent of half-digested coffee, mint, and the overwhelming, sweet-decay aroma of chocolate. It was a sauna from hell. A low, gurgling groan echoed all around him, the sound of her body waking up to its new meal. The walls, slick and glistening in the dim, reddish light, were a landscape of soft, undulating pink flesh. They pulsed with a slow, lazy rhythm, a heartbeat all their own.

He landed, sinking slightly, in a shallow, warm pool. The chocolate truffle was already almost broken down, a thick slurry that coated him from head to toe. It was a bizarre baptism. The acidic gastric juices, mingling with the chocolate, began their work immediately. A faint, tingling, burning sensation started to prickle all over his skin, a precursor to the dissolution to come. It wasn't pain, not yet. It was a hot, insistent awareness, a promise of being consumed, of becoming one with her.

There was nothing he could do now. He tried to stand, but the floor of her stomach was soft, yielding, uneven, and constantly pulsing. His feet sank into the spongy, warm flesh. Each step was a squelching, intimate struggle. The chocolate slurry clung to him, weighing him down, making every movement an immense effort. A low, liquid gurgle all around him made him stumble. A bubble of gas, warm and fragrant with her internal processes, erupted around his legs, the force of it nearly knocking him over.

He was naked, utterly vulnerable, inside woman who had given him life, and who was now, quite literally, taking him back into herself. The thought was horrifying. It was also, to his profound shame, unbearably arousing. The heat, the wetness, the all-encompassing pressure, the knowledge that he was completely at her mercy, that his entire existence was now just a component of her pleasure… it sent a jolt of helpless, humiliated excitement through him. He was just a morsel, a flavor, a sensation for her.

Was she even aware she had swallowed him?

A low, guttural "MMMMMmmmm" shook the walls. It was her muffled moan of enjoyment. He heard her voice, completely muffled, and felt it as it vibrated the whole stomach in the rhythm of her speech. Whatever she was saying, it was incomprehensible from inside her.

A deeper, stronger contraction seized the stomach walls. The pink flesh convulsed around him, squeezing him from all sides. The chocolate slurry sloshed, rising up to his chest, then his neck. The acidic tingle on his skin intensified, becoming a warm, pervasive burn that seeped into his pores. It was a slow, sensual melt. He could see the chocolate losing color as it was absorbed into the churning soup.

He was next.

Another wave of compression, stronger this time, a giant, soft fist clenching around him. The slurry flooded over his head, plunging him into a thick, dark, chocolaty silence. He was submerged in her. He flailed, but there was no up, no down, only the hot, thick, churning liquid and the relentless, kneading pressure of her stomach walls. The air in his lungs burned, not from lack of oxygen, but from the faint, acidic vapors he had inhaled.

There was no turning back. There was nothing he could do.