Round One: Victory!
Tiny Way Of Life
chapter 17
by
copier
· original author:
fueler
’I have to find that blueberry!’ you think to yourself. The girls never specified what they would do to you if you didn’t get the blueberries, but there were many options for punishment and you didn’t want to experience any of them.
You swim down to the stomach floor and drag your hands across the ripples, searching desperately for the berry. The string goes taught and you start being pulled upwards. There any floor left to search and you still haven’t found it. Fighting against the upward tug proves useless, though you still try. Just before you breach the surface of the soda, you bump your head against something. ’ The Blueberry!’, you think and snatch it.
You hold on to your prize like your life depended on it (it very well may). Your ass bumps against the valve to Olga’s throat but can’t make it in. Your body is too thick to go up her throat with you bent over like you are. The stomach shakes violently around you with the sound of a cough. “Ouch! What the hell are you doing down there?” she shouts. The sound reverberates all around you.
“I got stuck! Hold on, give me some more line!” you shout to her. The string goes slack again. ‘Crap’, you think. She can’t pull you out midsection first; you’d better do something before she gives up on the idea of letting you out. You maneuver your body so that your head slides into her throat. You start to shove the rest of yourself into the esophagus, then yank the string again.
On the outside, Olga is sitting on the couch with her head tilted all the way back to face the ceiling. She slowly raises the hand holding the string, this time she doesn’t cough. You slide slowly up the walls of her throat, the slick and bumpy surfaces rub against you all over on the way up and it feels pretty nice (imagine that!). You emerge from Olga’s mouth and rise upwards. You are slick with saliva and bile, and there are strands that stretch from one limb to another. You feel all webbed up and the breeze makes you feel cold.
The girls’ faces surround you, and they stare at you like you curiously as if you were some kind of experiment. You present the blueberry and say “tadaaa!” with a forced smile. “Good job, bug. The next one won’t be so easy though,” Tulip says. ’The first one wasn’t easy’ you think to yourself. “Okay, how to do decide who’s next?” She asks the group.
How do they decide?
You swim down to the stomach floor and drag your hands across the ripples, searching desperately for the berry. The string goes taught and you start being pulled upwards. There any floor left to search and you still haven’t found it. Fighting against the upward tug proves useless, though you still try. Just before you breach the surface of the soda, you bump your head against something. ’ The Blueberry!’, you think and snatch it.
You hold on to your prize like your life depended on it (it very well may). Your ass bumps against the valve to Olga’s throat but can’t make it in. Your body is too thick to go up her throat with you bent over like you are. The stomach shakes violently around you with the sound of a cough. “Ouch! What the hell are you doing down there?” she shouts. The sound reverberates all around you.
“I got stuck! Hold on, give me some more line!” you shout to her. The string goes slack again. ‘Crap’, you think. She can’t pull you out midsection first; you’d better do something before she gives up on the idea of letting you out. You maneuver your body so that your head slides into her throat. You start to shove the rest of yourself into the esophagus, then yank the string again.
On the outside, Olga is sitting on the couch with her head tilted all the way back to face the ceiling. She slowly raises the hand holding the string, this time she doesn’t cough. You slide slowly up the walls of her throat, the slick and bumpy surfaces rub against you all over on the way up and it feels pretty nice (imagine that!). You emerge from Olga’s mouth and rise upwards. You are slick with saliva and bile, and there are strands that stretch from one limb to another. You feel all webbed up and the breeze makes you feel cold.
The girls’ faces surround you, and they stare at you like you curiously as if you were some kind of experiment. You present the blueberry and say “tadaaa!” with a forced smile. “Good job, bug. The next one won’t be so easy though,” Tulip says. ’The first one wasn’t easy’ you think to yourself. “Okay, how to do decide who’s next?” She asks the group.
How do they decide?
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June 2
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