It was dark in Mrs. Fujiwara's warm throat. Around me, I could hear the repeated *GLUNK* sounds as her throat muscles constricted and forced me down. I struggled against the slimy dark tube and against her strong throat muscles as they contracted around me, but the simple act of swalloing me like any other morsel was too strong. Each painful squeeze sent my tiny body deeper down.

After one wet *glunk*, my legs swung in hot, open air, and then another sent me in free-fall through the hot gases of her stomach. I caught a rush of orange and landed with a splat. Immediately, a sharp, fishy taste invaded my mouth and nostrils. The hot heat of her belly felt like it was pressing down on me. I rose to my feet, gripping a chunk of sushi twice as large as I was. Around me were other masticated little chunks, as well as an orange sludge of digested fish. There were also lights illuminating the stomach. Giants could buy little lights to swallow that they could pass easily. These illuminated the stomach, in case they wanted to make the tiny see what was around them for amusement.

A wave of undulating movement nearly toppled me into the quicksand-like sludge, and the movement, combined with the extremely bitte and fishy taste of digesting sushi, made me dry heave. Looking around, the ridged pink walls stretched up at a scary height. They were alive too, slowly moving and undulating, their slimy coating making them impossible to climb up. I could also smell the tang of seaweed, and a faint smell of bread as well somwhere in the digesting mess. The panoply of smells was completely odious, especially with the bitterness of the Japanese goddess's stomach acids overpowering it all. The wretched digestive odors made me dry heave again. It was humiliating to think that my entire environment was solely dictated by what Mrs. Fujiwara had decided to have for breakfast.

There was a tremor and movement. The chunks of fish fell under the yellowish fluid of her stomach, and I found myself doggy-paddling through her gastric juices. Mrs. Fujiwara was going about her day, keeping me in here solely due to her own amusement, and she didn't care that I was terrified in her vast stomach. I was only too grateful for the gel, though I worried what if Mrs. Fujiwara decided to let it wear off? I would dissolve slowly and painfully into her gastric goup, and the giantess wouldn't even feel a thing. With the walls of fat between her outer skin and her stomach, there wasn't a chance she could hear anything I might try to yell.

I made my way to a mostly-undigested chunk of bread. Breaking off pieces of it, I began to eat, hurrying before it too slid into the digestive mush. Amid the usual sloshing sounds, a deafening rumble resounded through the giantess's stomach. The loud growl struck fear in me, and I almost choked on the bread. Her vast pink stomach was just reminding me that if it I stayed in here long enough, I would be its meal.

Over the next half hour, I saw the rest of her meal turn into a brownish lake, which was diluted by her drinking of water. I was doggy-paddling, struggling not to dip my head under her digested meal, the only thing her stomach had not ruthlessly destroyed. Fortunately, before I became a couple calories for her vast body, the giantess let down a string she had swallowed. I grabbed onto it, and momentarily she pulled me back up through her throat. I briefly saw the titanic finger that held the other end of the string, and then I was doused in soapy water. Tree-trunk-like fingers pummeled me and forced me under, as Mrs. Fujiwara washed me clean. Gripping me between thumb and forefinger, she lifted me to her almond-shaped eyes, which traced over my form.

"Did you enjoy breakfast? I made sure to keep it warm for you." The huge giantess laughed in my face, spraying gobs of spit on me.

Finally, she slid me into her bra, against her soft, warm left boob as she went about her day.