Saving Private Franky Untitled Babysitting Story (Yes That is the Real Name, Deal With it) chapter 5 by 2kfsk

“M-Maddy! Madeline… that’s your name, right?”

 

The girl turned back to see Jason brandishing the weapon. He held the barrel sideways, away from anyone in particular, but ready to be trained on her in a moment’s notice if need be. Jason dragged his fingers along the chrome metal casing of the ray. “I, ah… I know we just met and all but…”

 

Jason’s stomach growled, and he blushed hard, thankful in the low light it was probably invisible.

 

“I need your help. Long story short, I’m going to have to…”

 

Jason’s face curled up into a cringe. “Um… *e-eat* you. Just for a little bit—not, like, permanent! Here’s what happened… so, Franky—”

 

“Okay,” Madeline said. She hopped backwards from the sill and turned to Jason expectantly. The baseball glove had slipped out and onto the roof overhang.

 

“H-huh?”

 

Madeline shrugged. In the few seconds between hearing Jason’s request and now, she’d more than resolved to go through with it. “Yeah! I’m always jealous of the wacky hijinks Franky gets up to without me; I’ve been *waiting* for something like this to happen. So, I’m assuming… *that’s* one of those shrink rays I’ve heard so much about—” she stopped and pointed at the item in Jason’s hand. Without much alternative, he nodded. Madeline smiled and crossed her arms. “And let me guess at where I come in: I need to grab something from your stomach, right?”

 

Jason shuffled from one foot to another. “Er, some*one*, to be precise.”

 

Comprehension dawned on Madeline’s face.“*Ohhhhh*…” Madeline walked up closer to Jason, and she put an ear to Jason’s belly. “Heya Franky! I’m coming to get ya, so just hang tight, alright!?”

 

“*A-alr…ight*…” Neither Franky nor Jason could hear the response, which caused no small amount of concern for both of them.

 

Jason was, for his part, surprised at the speed with which Madeline caught onto the whole affair. Well, if she’s ready to go right now… Without warning, Jason took a step back and leveled the ray at Madeline, who held her hands up uselessly and exclaimed. “Whoa, whoa whoa whoa! Hold on a sec, buster! *Clearly* you didn’t think through your exit plan for *her*, do you have one for me?”

 

It was a salient question. Jason dropped the ray to his side. “Er, not really.”

 

“Exactly. And this is why I should be calling the shots. Hold, please—” Madeline skipped past Jason out of Franky’s room, stopping in the hallway bathroom where Jason had contemplated vomiting Franky out not long prior.

 

“Mouthwash, cough syrup, rash ointment…” She rummaged through the Jones family’s medicine cabinet like she owned the place, and though Jason didn’t have visual confirmation, it didn’t sound like putting those items back was high on her priority list. “*A-ha!* Found it!”

 

She arrived back in Franky’s room holding a generic container of mint-flavored dental floss. She shoved it into Jason’s hands, and he eyed the thing, turning it over in his hands as he examined it close. He could predict what Madeline meant to do with this, and it sounded utterly stupid.

 

Jason looked up. “So, is your plan to use the floss as—”

 

If he were a cartoon character, his eyes would be bulging out of their sockets, and not in a good way. In the scant seconds he’d taken his gaze off the girl, she’d already removed her tank top and was in the process of kicking off her shoes. Once they’d been launched into the junk pile that was Franky’s old clothes, the socks were peeled off next, followed by her pajama bottoms, leaving the girl in just a training bra and underwear.

 

“D-dude!” Jason averted his gaze and covered his eyes with the hand that held the shrink ray. “You could’ve asked me to leave, or something!”

 

“Why?” Madeline sounded sincere. “I don’t really care that much if you see my underwear. And anyway, I wanted to take it off before shrinking so they’d be easier to find later.”

 

*That might be a challenge*. Jason had already lost track of one of the shoes and he was pretty sure the stocking had buried itself in Franky’s clothes hamper, amongst a mountain of other week-old laundry. He shook his head and gestured with the gun toward Franky’s bed. “There, sit.”

 

Madeline did as she was told, getting on her knees as she vibrated in delight. Like this, Jason could more readily make out the bruises and scrapes that wrapped around her thighs and shins. “This is gonna be so *cool!!*” Jason was confused—first Franky, now this girl Madeline. Was it secretly *every* woman’s dream to be reduced to the size of an insect? Was there some inherent validation women got when they were reduced? What implications did this have for female socialization or, dare he say it, feminism as a whole? All great questions to be dealt with another time. For now, Jason simply gulped, aimed the ray, and fired.

 

The light flashed and enveloped Madeline, illuminating her body. She was beaming even as the space she once occupied became empty, and she vanished into nothing.

 

Jason approached the bed, and he scanned for movement or activity. “C’mon, c’mon…” In a fit, he stomped to the wall and flicked on the light before continuing. The newly illuminated room blinded the man who had adjusted to the darkness, but after a blinking fit, he did resume his search and pinpoint her quite easily. She was a few paces to the left of where he’d left her, standing up and waving her hands for dear life.

 

“Over heeeere!!” In full view of the light, Jason now realized just how blindingly white her skin was. Combined with the blonde nova of hair on her head, the girl was utterly radiant; you could probably stick her on a bicycle handlebar as a visibility reflector in a pinch.

 

“Okay, so the plan is simple,” Jason said, putting his hand out for Madeline to clamber atop. He took the liberty of opening the floss cannister, and he placed it on his palm as well for Madeline to joyously tug out from the spool. As she did this, Jason talked. “If Franky’s still alive in my stomach, just grab her and pull. If Franky’s still alive and *not* in my stomach, abandon the mission.” He didn’t want *two* girls dying in his guts on his watch. “If Franky’s dead and still in my stomach… j-just use your judgment.”

 

“Yeah, got it, sure,” Madeline was too busy wrapping the thread of floss around her waist to really grapple with what Jason was saying. She tugged at her knot and called up: “Hey, help me test this out!”

 

Jason grabbed the floss container, tugging the final length of thread from the spool. It came out to roughly ten feet—much less than a full pack, but more than enough for their purposes. Wrapping a decent stretch of the end around his pointer finger, he was left with roughly a foot, and it was with this foot he lifted Madeline up from his palm.

 

“*Oof!*” The rope suddenly was digging its way into her stomach, and Madeline wheezed. As she dangled, she manually loosened her knotwork and scooched the rope a few inches down her hips, which allowed her to breathe a little easier. When her next spin brought her face to face with Jason, she made sure to give him a thumbs-up.

 

“Alright, well… I guess we’re really doing this…” Jason was concerned. Sure, he’d already swallowed one girl. On accident. This would be on purpose, with a harebrained scheme he didn’t even have certainty would work. On the upside, Madeline came alone and in secret; presumably not even her family knew of her presence at Franky’s. If something bad happened to her, Jason could simply deny she was here. It wasn’t ethical, but Jason had enough material concerns to worry about with Franky’s potential digestion, so he didn’t care much about the moral framework. “I’m about to send you down. Remember, give the floss a tug and I’ll pull yo—”

 

“I *know,* I *get it*, just *eat me already!!*” The annoyance in her voice wasn’t enough to mask her excitement—she was even vibrating as she dangled from the rope.

 

*So eager*, Jason thought, and his heart panged with a feeling he’d felt only after successfully (yet accidentally) swallowing Franky. “Welp… bottom’s up.” He opened his mouth, unveiling a moist cavern of salivating, pulsating flesh flanked on top and bottom by twin-crescents of shining teeth. Madeline had taken to the shrinking process unexpectedly well, but for the first time she now grokked the risk she was undertaking. Jason was a reasonable man, but there was nothing reasonable about the teeth and tongue that were about to deliver her into a stomach equally agnostic about Madeline’s status as not-food. She tucked her legs into her sides and took a deep gulp of the last fresh air she’d have for a while as she passed his lips.

 

Warm, wet air moistened her face, and soon she hit his tongue. The rough organ slathered her in his saliva. It was sort of cute and a bit comforting, like getting a kiss from the biggest dog in the world. Madeline didn’t even mind when the tongue found its way around every exposed bit of skin on her body, her armpits, neck, thighs and feet—in fact, she was giggling uncontrollably. “Q-quit it!” she said, pushing the tongue away, but the entire organ was larger than she’d ever grow in her lifetime, and trying to fight it was a losing battle. Madeline didn’t have the opportunity to reckon with the risk associated with that reality before the lips closed behind her, sealing her in darkness that only allowed the faintest traces of red light through the most translucent bits of skin. And *that* didn’t last but for a moment before the tongue, having sampled its fill, dejectedly shoved Madeline to the back of Jason’s throat, where his esophagus undulated and opened. At this point, Madeline couldn’t turn back even if she wanted to; Jason’s mouth had made the decision of where she was going the moment she’d entered this abyss. In an attempt to regain the illusion of agency, Madeline double-checked her waist knot and found it held just as well as it previously did despite the saliva that had slicked it up. So, she put her arms at her sides and succumbed to peristalsis.

 

*God*, Jason wondered. *Do all tiny women taste so goddamn* ***good?***

 

As Madeline dove down the esophagus face-first, and her body was entirely saturated by the mucus and slime on all sides of the interior tunnel, she was struck by the reality she’d made a mistake stripping down to her mere undergarments.

 

To be clear, the stripping itself wasn’t the mistake—that had been a good idea, and she was glad to have a nice, dry set of clothes waiting upstairs when this was all over. No, the real mistake lies in leaving her bra and panties *on*. As it stood, the garb had been utterly soaked in Jason’s spit, meaning when she got out, she’d need to put her clean clothes on over her dirty ones and waddle back to her home three houses down.

 

Pft. Keeping the underwear on was mostly for Jason’s sake anyway. Adults were always so weird about these things, and boys even more so. Had she simply gone commando like she wanted to, she’d need only wipe the gunk off her body and be good as new, save the scent of his cereal breath that would cling to her skin until Madeline’s next shower.

 

The throat was dark, but as Madeline’s eyes adjusted, she was pleasantly surprised that it wasn’t unnavigable—if a one way tunnel with no turns or forks could be considered navigable in the first place. If she were to hazard a hypothesis, perhaps enough ambient light penetrated Jason’s skin to make it inside the body that she could just *barely* trace out the undulating throat walls. Whatever the case, she was grateful, and it would hopefully make finding Franky a good deal easier.

 

Finally, the tunnel seemed to reach an end. Madeline braced herself…

 

“*Gah!!*”

 

The moment Madeline left the esophagus, she *dropped*.

 

A few inches.

 

Those inches may have been about ten feet to her, but still it wasn’t much of a drop. She dangled as her safety rope funneled out behind her.

 

“Whoaaaa…” Madeline whispered in awe as she witnessed the gurgling cauldron of Jason’s stomach. The cereal bits had been reduced to amorphous sludge by now, and there was no evidence of any kind he’d consumed milk in the last several hours. Jason’s stomach was brutally efficient, and from up here it was easy to make out the bursts of steam that jettisoned excess gas from the solution.

 

Madeline felt a chill run down her spine, then stifled it.

 

“*Franky!! Franky!?* You in here, buddy?”

 

Madeline was descending fast. She was almost halfway, and if there’s anywhere she didn’t want to be, it was in the drink. “Franky!! Don’t tell me I came all the way down here for nothing!”

 

Madeline waited for a response. She couldn’t tell if the sweat pooling on her forehead was from the heat, the exertion, the claustrophobia, or just plain ol’ nervousness. Likely a cocktail of the quartet.

 

“I still need to give you back your lip balm!” A geyser of stomach acid splashed dangerously high and close to Madeline’s face. She cringed and tried to dangle out of the way. “I only used up two thirds… that’s still plenty left, I think!”

 

The build-up to getting dunked in the pool was worse than the sensation itself. Maddy’s toes obviously went in first. “Ach, *ach*…” Madeline splashed a bit in disgust as she took a dip in the acid pool, only to remark, “Huh. It doesn’t feel *that* bad.” Once her feet hit the fleshy bottom of the pool, she wiggled her toes. “Sort of like a cross between a wet bounce house and a massage… Hey, Franky! Are you feeling this?”

 

Maddy had momentarily forgotten she had a mission. Her escape rope was still being fed in behind her, becoming more and more slack. The hanging length of rope trailed behind Maddy as she wobbled through the lake, cupping her hands on her mouth and calling out with little rhyme or reason.

 

“Fraaaaaaaanky!!! *Fraaaaaaaaaanky!!!* Where ya at, girl!?”

 

After a few minutes of this, Madeline stopped and put her hands on her hips. The feeling of the acid as it ate away at the dead flesh on her feet and thighs was appealing… but she was over it. She was about ready to go home; if Franky wasn’t down here, she wasn’t down here.

 

…

 

If *All women secretly yearn to be eaten* was Jason’s First Law of Shrinkanomics, then *Inexplicably, all women taste* **really really good** must’ve been the second. He didn’t know what the third one might be, though *Eating tiny girls made him sleepy* was shortlisted as a contender. He’d already dozed off a few times on Franky’s bed—a twin-sized mattress two sizes too small for him—and only seemed to remember to wake himself up when he was moments away from drifting into a sincere sleep. The floss remained tied around his finger, and the thread extended between his lips where it disappeared down his closed mouth, waiting for the signal.

 

But the thread around his finger was uncomfortable, and it cut off his circulation. Surely it wouldn’t be a problem if he untied it and simply held the thread between his forefinger and thumb. That wouldn’t be any trouble at all, he’d just remember to keep it where he could see it.

 

And surely he could catch a few winks. Even though Franky’s bed was tiny compared to the grown adult, Jason was too tired at this point to care. Not to worry, it’d only be for a few minutes. Then he’ll transfer back to the couch after his little catnap.

 

Decisions, decisions.