To this day, I’m still not sure what the nature of our relationship is.  Sometimes I think I’m her best friend, other times, I wonder if she knows I exist.  And still others, I struggle to survive even a few short moments of being in her presence, lest she decide I am no longer worth her time.

But if there is one thing I can say about Noelle, one word to sum up her existence, her persona, her looks, her sensuality…well, no such word exists.  But to do the best I can with my limited mental dictionary:

Magnificent.

July 14, 2011

Today, Noelle awoke before I did.  I can’t imagine why, she hadn’t made plans the day before to leave early, and left nothing for me to find that would say otherwise.  So, when I awoke to find her missing, parts of my emotional spectrum that weren’t usually very exercised got a rude awakening.  My first thoughts?  Escapism.  Both in the ‘let’s-get-the-hell-out-of-here’ frame of mind, as well as the ‘I-wonder-what-I-can-cross-off-my-bucket-list’ sort of train. 

I chose the later today, choosing to explore previously forbidden terrain…Noelle’s bedroom.  After clothing myself, and being sure that this is what I wanted to do, I set forth on my journey, hoping this would come to show fruit.  Noelle was my obsession, my muse, and my reason for living.  Without her, I would cease to exist, if either because I would take my life, due to the separation anxiety, or because I am entirely dependent on her for food, water, and shelter.  Either way, without Noelle, there is no me, and there was no way around it.

So why would I risk everything I know and understand, on something I don’t understand, and may never know?  Well, why do the strongest of atheists, turn to lead religions and cults? For the same reason that we visit the Grand Canyon, Niagara Falls, and Mount Everest.  We humans are created or programmed by nature to behold great things, which are bigger than us, in size, might, complexity, and power. 

It is with these thoughts that I cross the threshold of Noelle’s bedroom. 

The moment I pass through the doorway, and even sooner perhaps, I can smell her scent.  I can smell the perfume she wears, light, precious, precise, like the woman herself.  My only regret, up until this point, is that the lights are out, and the window shades are closed.  There is very little light, but there is enough to help me continue forward.  Though, even if the room were pitch black, I would not likely turn back. 

Before we continue any further, I think it is important to know the specifics of my situation.  My name is Ryan, I’m 28 years old, and, most days, stand at exactly 1 inch tall.  How I got to this size and how I came to find Noelle…I’ll have to mention later.

My first obstacle in the room was one that someone might expect in a woman’s room.  An immediately right at the threshold of the door brought me to a row of shoes.  I’d seen more of each of these shoes than I’d ever anticipated, and I can’t say it was without its rewards.  It was only on the days that Noelle chose to validate my existence with conversation, and lift me up to eye level, or at least table level, that I wasn’t on the floor.  Given enough effort, I could climb tables, chairs, or other furniture, but most of the time, there was little reason to do so.  It would take most of the day to climb up to the dinner table, and there was increasingly less thrill, and point to it. 

However, this time was different.  The empty row of ‘primary’ shoes that Noelle would wear most often was 5 pairs deep.  The last, and furthest away, were her running sneakers, followed by an empty space where her black flip flops usually were.  She must have been wearing them today.  Next, her brown flats, followed by her black high heels, for work, and finally, those infamous pink house slippers, closest to me.  I’d spent more time around those than any of the others, because they were an immediate trade off for the others when Noelle got home. 

I wouldn’t call myself a foot fetishist, but as much time as I have spent admiring Noelle and all of her perfection, by staring at her feet, you could likely label me as one, and not be too far off the mark. 

I called these an ‘obstacle’, because there was so much of Noelle’s room to explore, and I wasn’t sure how much time I had.  But there was also that feeling in the pit of my gut that told me to save that for another time, and focus on those shoes of hers.  I’ve never been a man to think with my head. 

I’d spent so much time with those house slippers that I wanted to see those less-often seen sneakers, and pumps.  It only took a few more minutes to pass the others, and reach those towering, powerful empty vessels that housed my goddess’ feet.  Black Nike ‘Shox’, I think they’re called, with pink trim, and pink on the inside.  That was my goal.  A quick peek inside, look around, and move on.  No extended stay, no basking in the scent of her light sweat and body lotion, I could save that for another day. 

The sneakers were between the wall and the empty space where the flips flops would have gone.  I made my way across the empty space, and debated on a plan of attack.  The shoes were easily three stories tall at the ankle, and about the size of a small house at the toe.  However, due to the nature of these shoes, the heel was made up of four pillars, some sort of springs that provided better lift while running.  The pillars were attached to a roof and a floor, making the structure seem like an empty parking garage.  I don’t know, try looking them up on google.

I decided my best option would be to head for the toe, and climb up.  It was the obvious answer, and I’d began walking towards my goal, when suddenly I heard that all too familiar sound of the living room door opening.  Noelle was at home. 

As meticulous and organized as she was, I knew her path by heart.  She’d head through the living room, drop off groceries or other purchases in the kitchen, come to her bedroom, switch into her slippers, then go to put them away.  That gave me roughly thirty seconds to get the hell out of dodge.

Unfortunately, I didn’t calculate that Noelle may not have gone to get groceries.  I’d barely run for ten seconds along the row of shoes, hardly out of flip-flop zone, when I heard the bedroom door swing open, and the light switch flip on. 

There she was, my Noelle, my goddess.  Lightly tanned skinned, strawberry blonde, near-red hair lately, though she played with the color often.  Adorned in denim shorts that only barely contained and covered her tight, toned ass, a red spaghetti strap tank top, and, of course, black flip flops. 

The woman had never been much of a heavy ‘stepper’; her foot steps were always light and hardly noticeable to anyone around.  Unless, of course, you were an inch tall and standing where she intended to step. 

I could barely make up that playful smirk on her face, the one she always had on her face when she got home, likely from all the heart she broke with her subtle winks, perfect, perky breasts, and dazzling green eyes.  Unfortunately though, I found myself dead center of where her flip flops would be placed, and had no time to think about the finer points of Noelle’s body.  Plan B, turn around.

Thud.  Her next few steps were all the more noticeable.  I didn’t dare peek behind me to see how close she was, I knew that I could never make it.  I was far large enough to be seen from eye level, but the question was if today, I was her friend, enemy, or imaginary, non-existent toy.  Time would tell, and I quickly made pace for the shelter of those sneakers again.  My goal?  Reach that covered, parking garage-like heel that I was describing earlier. 

“What am I gonna make for dinner?”  I heard her speak, taking a final step into the area next to her shoes.  She paused for a moment, as if this question was more important than switching footwear.  She was buying me time, which meant she had no intention of acknowledging me today.   “Hm…choices.”  Another five second pause, and Noelle shrugged, finally stepping into the place where her flips flops most often stayed. 

My goddess’ feet dwarfed me like the powerful structures they were.  I’d learned to respect them, but apparently, not enough, as I again found myself diving out of the way from just the displaced air that rushed away from her step.  I didn’t stay down long though, and soon, I found shelter inside the heel of those blessed sneakers.  It was here that I finally turned around to fully comprehend how close I had come to being stepped on.  Noelle’s feet were only a few scale yards from where I had been seconds ago.  Directly in front of me, her bare heels, powerful, crushing boulders of flesh rested in the flimsy footwear, unmoving for now.

“I suppose I could make some…crushed pea soup?”  She spoke, lifting her hand up to her chin, as if considering her options.  “I’m sure I have a recipe somewhere…underfoot.”  I could almost hear her suppressing a giggle.  She was toying with me, and to further emphasize it, she began to tap that left foot of hers, the one closest to me.   I watched, in equal fear and amazement as that soft, feminine foot rose only an inch or two, though still over my head, and came crashing back down to earth, flip flop included.  The air, again, rushed away from under, but only caused my hair to rustle a bit.  It was nothing compared to what happened next.

“I just don’t know what I’m in the mood for…”  Her left foot became stationary again, but I saw a much larger movement from the other foot.  I thought, for a moment, she had was about to leave, the foot was leaving the footwear in place.  I almost breathed a sigh of relief, but quickly stifled it, when I saw the powerful appendage lift in the air and move sideways across its twin, towards the sneaker I was hiding under. 

Running would have been my first priority, though it would have gotten me nowhere, even if Noelle’s toes hadn’t landed directly between the shoe and her other foot, putting her in a cross-legged position, as if she was leaning against something for support.  However, since she was not looking down, her aim was only slightly off, and that sneaker that I had used for refuge was pushed away gently, and I went tumbling out of the sneaker, and into the carpet right where Noelle’s  now bare left foot stood on its toes. 

My eyes had been closed during the collision, but I didn’t need to see to tell that I was under Noelle’s foot, or nearly.  The warmth and light smell was enough.  But I did open my eyes, and directly in front of me was the ball of her towering foot.  Above me, and higher, was the underside of that same foot.  It lorded over me like some kind of living, pale, wrinkled sky.  As close as I was to it, I could see every intricate detail, every creased line, every tiny piece of dirt that was forever lost to the vast field of flesh that was the sole of my goddess’ foot.  I was close enough to that I could reach out and kiss it, if I wanted.  And part of me did. 

“I guess I’m gonna just have to go look for it, ‘eh?”  Was she expecting an answer from me?  She’d been known to talk to herself before, but this was different.  I didn’t have much time to consider it however, as suddenly, my world began to darken, and the sky began to fall.  Looking up, I saw that that perfect arch of hers was descending towards me.  I shuddered at its power, and ability to cast me in such a dark shadow, so easily.  I’d often wondered if I was going to die under such a lovely foot, crushed between its toes, or flattened under its sole, but it had happened so many times, I rarely got emotional about it, and just accepted what I thought would happen.  Things got darker, warmer, and muskier.

Until the daylight returned, and a heavy, strong wind had me temporarily airborne.  It happened more quickly than I expected, and I landed roughly, on a flat, rubbery surface.  Opening my eyes, I found that Noelle had abandoned her flip flops, traded them for her slippers, and was heading out of the room.  I had landed on the insole of one of those sandals, staring up at the thin strap.  I sighed, heavily, looking to my right, where the sneakers were discarded, knocked over.  Her scent filled my nose again, and I smiled.

Magnificent.

July 17, 2011

It’s been a rare few days.  I’ve hardly been more than a few feet from Noelle for more than a few minutes, and I’ve even more rarely been out of the range of her voice.  Even when she goes to bed, she is sure to locate me and snatch me up, to carry to bed with her.  Monday night, I slept on the pillow with her, which had never happened before.  Whether or not this was an enjoyable experience or not, I’m still not sure.

We had gotten home from a late night of partying, or, she had gone partying, I stayed in her purse.  That was probably one of the scarier experiences I’ve had under her care.  As she walked into the club, the purse had a light sway to it, and the items inside, myself included, were tossed around gently.  Her lipstick container had begun to roll around, and it being larger than I could push away by myself, I had to lodge myself between her coin purse and a pack of gum to protect myself from being run over by it.  She had at least afforded me the privilege of keeping the purse open, not only so I could see inside the purse, but so I could see her, living her life with me as her tiny captive.

She didn’t do much dancing that night, and I was thankful for that.  I wasn’t sure that I could handle something like that, but the few times she did find a song she enjoyed, she left her purse on a chair and allowed one of her friends to babysit it, and unknowingly, me.  At one point, her friend had asked for a mint, and Noelle said that she could take whatever she could find.  Naturally, I didn’t want to be discovered by one of her friends, and possibly be taken away from my queen.  This particular friend was paler than Noelle, and had yet black, cropped hair.  She was attractive, but nowhere near as wonderful as Noelle.

Remembering that I was lodged next to a pack of gum, I quickly dove out of the way, hiding behind, to my horror, a set of condoms of varied size.  My goddess was as smart as she was beautiful. 

I watched as the friend’s hand slipped inside, her fingernails were all about as tall as I was, painted a maroon color.  As she fished about, looking for something t o freshen her breath, her fingers threatened to smack me around a few times, and I looked up in the sky to see her face filling the opening of the purse.  After only a few seconds of digging, she found that pack of gum and lifted it out.  My nerves relaxed for a moment, until that pack of gum came crashing back down carelessly into the purse, missing me by scale inches.  That was the highlight of my journey to the club.  Noelle didn’t acknowledge me the entire time. 

Once at home again, the purse was dropped onto her bed, maybe a little harder than necessary, and it fell over onto its side, some of the items, including her lipstick and a perfume bottle, tumbled out.  I assumed this was Noelle’s way of letting me out, and climbed on my hands and knees to reach the surface of the bed.   Once free from the purse, I stood next to it, and called out to her.

“Noelle…?”  I spoke, intimidated at first.  Talking to her was never easy, especially addressing such a perfect creature as herself by her first name.  I was getting better at it, though.  Gulping hard, I stood and approached the edge of the bed, watching from behind as she ritualistically switched out those pumps for her slippers.  “…Noelle, I’m sort of hungry, do you think I could…”  I knew she could hear me; we’d had several conversations as she stood there, with me on the bed.  But she didn’t so much as turn around to face me.  “Noelle, can you hear me?”  There was no answer from her mouth this time, but she did turn around to face me, and close the gap between the bed and the shoes. 

What happened next, I find that some men may have enjoyed, others might not care for.  She wore a long white blouse, and had turned around just long enough to start pulling it over her head as she stepped closer to the bed, and turned around again.

This gave me an unobstructed view of her perfect ass, barely contained by a black mini-skirt.  I couldn’t help but stare, mesmerized by the gentle, or for me, dramatic curve of her rump as it flowed from the small of her back.  I took a few steps back, to appreciate as much of the view as possible, and even found myself smiling a bit, until I saw her knees begin to bend, and I was cast in her shadow…she was sitting down.

The first thing I noticed was the fabric of her miniskirt beginning to ride up the length of her tanned, toned thighs.  As close to her as I was, the normally undetectable sound was clearly evident.  Her ass slowly began to descend; it was terribly slow and dramatic.  I don’t know if she did this to torment me, or if it was because she couldn’t see while pulling her blouse off.  Regardless, as I stood up, more and more of the black fabric of her skirt obscured my peripheral vision, until all I could see was that vast field of female backside.  It was suck a lovely, powerful thing.

I can practically hear the fabric of the dress increasing in pressure as she moved to sit.  The skirt could hardly contain so much perfectly formed woman wrapped so tightly around her buns of steel.  I didn’t dare scream and startle her, but neither did I want to suffocate under the wrath of my goddess’ ass.  Time to go. 

Running across the surface of the bed was easier than I expected, the bed sheets were pulled tight, so there were few wrinkles to navigate.  As much time as I had spent admiring those wonderful mounds of posterior flesh, I was surprised to find that I made it out of the danger zone pretty easily.  It was time like these that I knew Noelle would never intentionally hurt me, at least, I don’t think she would.  She did make as many close calls as possible, and this was another.  At long last, as I turned to check my progress, Noelle’s rump impacted the bed, just as the blouse was removed from over her head, leaving her in her bra.

The power of this young woman’s posterior had not only nearly crushed me, but had created an uneven plain on the bed, and while I counted my blessings, that infamous lipstick container had begun to roll.

“Shit…”  I whispered under my breath, as I realized my only option was to run back towards Noelle’s ass, to escape being bull-dozed by the on-coming vessel.  I took a few steps to begin to run again, but as I did, heard a powerful giggle come from my goddess.

“You almost got squished under my ass, and now you’re making reasons to get back under it?  Hm, tsk tsk naughty boy…”  There was no chance to even see it coming.  Noelle’s hand swooped in out of nowhere to save me, just as the lipstick container bounced against her.  I was given no break though, as she whipped me up to face level, nearly knocking the wind out of me.  I lay face down in her soft, wrinkled palm when she raised me up to her face.  “My poor boy has had a rough night, hasn’t he?”  I could practically hear the giggle in her voice being suppressed, but more importantly, I felt a heavy pressure against my back, and shifted my head to see the index finger of Noelle’s other hand stroking up and down my body.

“I’m sorry you have a tough evening, but it’s okay, you get to spend the night in bed with me.” As soon as she spoke those words, my face blushed.  She removed her finger, and I sat up to make eye contact with her, hoping she would not play with my emotions in such a way.  But as I did, I did not see Noelle’s eyes, I saw her mouth.

“Hey, Noelle, wait, I…!”    Her moist, gentle lips were without lipstick, even though she kept it with her.  Instead, they were coated with a lightly flavored peach lip-balm.  They were slightly parted, as were her teeth, giving me a brief glimpse into the depths of her mouth.  It was short lived, however, I was only treated to the sight of her tongue running over her lower teeth, before her lips closed again, and I found myself getting closer and closer to them. 

They only puckered a bit, until I could feel the wash of the breath from her nose blowing my hair, and smell the lip gloss flavor.  I closed my eyes, and braced for the impact.

Her lips were as soft as any as I could ever imagine.  They smothered the entire length of my body.  If I opened my eyes, I would see nothing but the flesh of her lips.  The lip gloss enhanced the experience, both adding aroma, and acting as a lubricant.  Her lips pressed harshly against her palm, leaving me crushed between the two, unsure if what I felt was enjoyable, or painful.  I knew that her mouth was easily large enough that should her lips part, I would go tumbling into the abyss.  Part of me prayed that it would happen.

“Mmmmmmmuah!”  It ended all too soon.  She accented the smothering kiss by gently pulling away and popping her lips, the sound that was made from the separation of her lips from her palm and my body, and the air displacing from it.  I hardly had time to recover, when she dropped me on her pillow, covered in peach flavor lip balm.  “Now, I’m going to switch into my pjs and get ready for bed.  You stay put, mkay?” 

“But I’m…”  I still hadn’t gotten to eat, but she was standing and walking away again, leaving me to stare at that perfect body of hers.  Her thin waist, the swell of her bosom, flowing hair.  I was hungry, but I could go without food, if it meant staying on her good side. 

I smiled again, closing my eyes on the pillow.

Magnificent.

August 11, 2011

I hesitate to write today, the recent events that have transpired, I am not proud of, and should my journals ever be found and published, I would likely deny my authorship.  

Noelle has made a sharp transition since my last journal.  We spent several days in, what felt like, a normal relationship, or as close to one as I felt like I could be.  We shared all three meals a day together, woke up together, and went to bed together.  She took me to work and kept me at her desk.  I didn’t know what she did, I just knew that she was a powerful woman, and didn’t answer to many people.  She kept me in her purse until we got to her office, where she locked the door, claiming that she had meetings and other things that could not be disturbed, when all the while, she just wanted to allow me to sit at the desk with her, without fear that someone would walk in and discover me. 

I must say, those were some of the best days of my life.  We didn’t have sex, I was on my own for that, but the foreplay, the kissing, the stripping me of my clothes, the removal of her own, it was all better than any I’d had before my current predicament, and I appreciated her for understanding my needs.  In turn, she had several partners that would satisfy her needs, and I would be left to my own devices, usually in the living room or kitchen.  Once, they had fallen asleep after the sex, and I spent the night trying to climb out of the sink.

It wasn’t until one day when Noelle returned home from work that things had changed again.  I hadn’t gone with her, because she would be in a meeting all day long, and it would mean spending the day in her purse, which neither of us wanted.  The day went by rather slowly, I watched TV for most of it, she’d left the TV on for me, and it stayed on the same channel all day, it was more effort than it was worth to use the TV remote. 

I knew something was wrong when she came in, dropped her purse at the door, kicked off her shoes, and unbuttoned her blouse before even getting to her room.  Without so much as acknowledging me, she turned the television off, and tossed the remote back on the coffee table, nearly knocking me off with it.  She’d been in bad moods before, and I knew when not to ask questions, and steer clear of her wrath.  Unfortunately, Noelle had other plans.

She’d stepped off into the bedroom, finally, to change clothes and put on her slippers, and after returning, she made it very clear they she wanted my attention.

“Ryan, you little dick, get the fuck out here.” 

Oh damn.

“Right now, you piece of shit, before I shove you up my ass where you deserve to be!”
“I’m right here, Noelle, I…”  No chance to finish my sentence.  No sooner had I spoke, did she turn and walk over to the table, staring down at me.
“When the hell did I give you permission to address me by my first name?  I own you, you fucktard, why would you disrespect me like that?  I could end you, right now, without a second thought.  You should be bowing down to me.”

My mistake, here, was not taking every word she said literally.  It was a mistake I only made once.

“I just thought we were getting closer, like maybe we were…to…gether?”  My words slowing down as my confidence decreased.  Her emotions flared hotter then, hotter than I’d ever seen.

“Closer?!  You want to be CLOSER?!  Come here, you.”  As if I could run away, that same soft, warm hand that had cradled me into a kiss only nights ago, swiftly and harshly tore me from where I stood, and up to her face, directly in front of her mouth, again, But this time, was different.  “Is this close enough, Ryan?  If you got any closer, you’d be my dinner.  How would you like that, to be my dinner?  Do you want to see what happens to my dinner when it gets in my mouth?” 

As if her forceful talking wasn’t already enough to scare the shit out of me, she took it a step forward, and her mouth opened wide, as wide as I’d ever seen it.  I had nothing to say, I could only whimper while she switched from holding me in her fist, to dangling me above her open mouth.  I felt her breath, warm and oppressive, bombarding my body.  I almost didn’t look down, but when I did I felt a distinct wetness in my crotch.

Below, a wide, pink, salivating chasm of death.  Her rows of teeth, pristine and white, stood like ivory gates, contrasting the darkness that was her throat.  Her uvula dangled in the back, nearly as large as I was, bouncing happily to and fro.  Saliva stretched from one place to another, she was obviously hungry, there was enough saliva that it pooled under her tongue, which lay flat and dormant, ready to snap into action at a moment’s notice. 

“Oh god, please, Noelle, don’t eat me!”  Mistake number two.
Her mouth snapped tight scale inches from my feet, and I was staring into her bright green eyes again.

“I AM God to you!  And did you just really call me by my first name again?  You’re fucking finished, Ryan, have fun being dinner.”  There was no cuteness in her voice.  No hint of kidding around.

“No!”  I screamed, but there was no reply, Noelle’s lips greeted me again, and her mouth shot wide open.  Without a second of hesitation, that tongue slithered out under my dangling form, and she dropped me.  I fell unceremoniously into her mouth, rolling back to the deep chasm of her throat.  I loved Noelle, I worshipped her, but I wasn’t about to be digested.

My fingers dug deep into the flesh of her tongue, before she’d even gotten the chance to close her mouth.  Since there are no fingernail clippers made for men an inch tall, my fingernails had long since grown, and did considerably more damage to that slimy, pink, sensual muscle than either of us expected.  Strike three, I’m out.

“OUCH!”  That alone, was loud enough to cause me to cover my ears, and remove my fingers from the tongue.  “You know, I wasn’t really going to swallow you, I was only going to scare you, until you really just fucked up.” 

Noelle’s mouth closed a final time, and her tongue went into action. 

If the humidity, moisture, and darkness weren’t enough alone, now I had her tongue to contend with as well, and it was not taking it easy.  No sooner had the mouth closed, would that tongue slam me into the smooth, sticky roof of her mouth, immediately knocking the wind out of me.  But it did stop there.  It kept pushing harder and harder into me; I thought she was trying to crush me right then and there.  For a second, it let go, and I hung there, stuck to the roof of her mouth for a moment, before freefalling back into her tongue, my face buried in her taste buds, before the tongue repeated the process. 

I couldn't help but notice, though, while she played with me like her favorite piece of candy, that she was moving, as in, walking.  The thoughts were fleeting though, and after a moment, I felt her jaws widen, just enough for the tongue to thrust me between her teeth.  Was she going to chew me to death? 

No, the jaws clamped tight again, and I found myself stuck between her teeth, and the inner lining of her cheek.  I was so small, however, that my body only slightly made a bump in the contour of her face.  This was the only moment of serenity that I had, since Noelle had arrived home.  In the next few seconds though, I received my answer to my questions about her walking somewhere.

The artificial light of the kitchen flooded Noelle’s mouth as she parted her lips, but only slightly.  I tumbled from her teeth and back onto her tongue, momentarily getting another look around that dark cave.  I didn’t dare look behind me; I might as well be staring into the pits of hell.  Squinting my eyes as I stood on hands and knees to peer from between her teeth, a cold chill went down my spine.  A can of beer was raised from to her face, and as it reached her lips, everything went dark again.  I was being swallowed hole, in a swig of beer.

I never quite realized how much a ‘swig’ was, until Noelle, tilted that can up enough to allow the acidic liquid to float into her mouth.  My first thought was to grab a hold of the can and allow myself to be rescued by it when she pulled it away from her lips, but that first torrent of Amstel Light immediately discouraged such thoughts.  I was washed back towards her throat again, but persisted, and found the current, once again, digging my nails into her tongue enough to keep traction. 

Noelle must have felt this, because I felt her chin tilt up even higher.  She was no longer casually sipping on the beer, but intended to chug it until I was washed down.  I screamed for the first time since arriving here, more out of anger than fear.  Behind me, I could hear the sounds of heavy swallowing; the alcohol churning down her esophagus, that exaggerated ‘gulping’ sound that had never been as loud as it was

Unfortunately, Noelle’s tongue tired of me hanging on like a bucking bronco, and slammed me against her palette once again, jarring me enough to fall into the river of beer  rapidly careening down her throat.  The current swept me up, and I was helpless, watching that uvula bounce away with every chug the goddess made.    Things only got darker and warmer, apart from the ice cold chill of the beer, until I couldn’t make out a thing.  I remember tumbling over the precipice of her throat in complete darkness, desperately clawing at the walls of her esophagus when I could, anything to punish her for sending me to my doom.

 I fell possibly ten seconds, before getting lodged in the narrowing walls of the esophagus, where peristalsis came into play.  The process of being pushed through the digestive tube wasn’t as bad as expected, but I did find that was the only the left in the esophagus.  The beer kept freefalling until it reached the stomach, but I had to be pushed, like the food I was.  At one point, her heart beat was loud enough that I thought I had wound up inside the heart itself, but it passed.

Finally, I found myself freefalling again, and landed with inside Noelle’s stomach.  Being the slim girl she was, it felt like being in a large room, though I couldn’t tell you what it looked like.  There is no light in Noelle's stomach. I could hear the sound of me splashing echoing lightly against the walls, I knew I wasn’t terribly far from there, no more than fifty feet, at the most. 

As wonderful as Noelle was, I found that the inside of her stomach was rather boring.  I couldn’t see anything, and I could hardly hear anything but the sounds of Noelle’s body continuing about its business.  There was no interruption of the order, just because I was present.  It’s humbling.  Eventually, something that felt like a landmass bumped into me.  Some sort of remnants of her previous meal, before me, was still deteriorating in the stomach slowly.  Since it still had some sense of shape, it couldn’t have been here long, so I climbed aboard. 

Just in time to, Noelle was on the move again.  The rhythmic movement of her walking was similar to that of when I was in her purse, only much more fluid, and less violent.  She had swallowed me, and was now going on about her business.  Or so I thought.

Seconds later, her stomach lurched, and I heard the distinct sound of Noelle’s body rejecting the contents of her belly.  Namely, me. 

It took a few tries, but each time, I had told hold tight to whatever food it was that I floated on, her stomach contents seeming to swirl more and more with each time.  By the fourth time, the stomach lurched hard enough that I, as well as the floating food, were sent back into the esophagus. 

Thank.  God.

I was only given a brief glance at the inside of her mouth again, before I landed back in a pool of vomit, in the bathroom sink.  It seemed Noelle noticed me immediately, and switched from the sink to the toilet to finish vomiting.  With the sink stopper in, Noelle stormed out of the room and returned later, wiping her mouth with a paper towel, and sipping on a glass of, I assumed, water.  I’d managed to swim through the mostly liquid vomit, consisting mostly of beer, and Oreos.  Must have been what I was floating on.  Now, at least, I knew what that goldfish on Jackass felt like.

“You’re fucking lucky.”  Noelle finally said in a tattered, raspy voice.  “Next time, you’re staying there.  You got me?”  I quickly nodded, whimpering.  “I’m your owner, now.  Your master.  And now my throat hurts like hell from throwing up all that alcohol, and your annoying ass scratching.  You’re gonna make it up to me, two-fold.”  I nodded again, vigorously.  I was as winded as she was.  “For now, get out of the sink and clean yourself up.  I’ll be back later, you piece of shit.”  And with that, she turned to the door and headed out, flushing the toilet in the process.

  As I watched her leave the room, I sighed.  It felt like I had been in her stomach for hours, but in reality, it was less than two minutes.  But she kept me alive, and was giving me a second chance.  I don’t know why, but all I know is that I owe her my life, now.  She’s everything to me.

Absolutely…magnificent.  

August 20, 2011

I wish that I could say things have improved.  Certainly, things have changed, but neither for the better, or worse.  I think that I have finally learned my role in Noelle’s life.  I am not her friend, I am her slave, her toy, her pet, and when necessary, her one man cleaning crew.

Now, each of these roles does not come without its benefits and responsibilities.  Quite the opposite, really.  I am very well aware of when I am playing which role, and what boundaries I am given when playing that role.  It only took a few days to establish each part, and they cycle randomly every few hours.  

Today, it was cleaning, almost primarily.  And by cleaning, I do not mean cleaning her home, Noelle may be a slave-driver, but she is not unreasonable.  My task?  Cleaning Noelle herself.  Sometimes I think that Noelle only has me do things like this, so that I will feel like I have a job, like I have something to do, to keep my morale above the suicide level, which she doesn’t need to do, but I would never say that to her.

For example, a few days ago, one of my tasks was the remove the mucus from both her nose and ears.  She provided shreds of cotton, paper towels, assorted other supplies to help, but neither of us really considered how this was going to happen.  I’m pretty small, but not smaller enough to fit into Noelle’s nostril without seriously restricting her breathing.  The same goes for her ear canal, being about the same size.  Nonetheless, she assigned me the task.

I’m still not sure if she hadn’t realized that she could have done just as well, if not better, than me herself, or if she realized it, but didn’t want to appear soft by changing her plans, but the experience was not enjoyable for either of us.  

She had laid herself down on the couch, face up, and set me on her chin to navigate to her nostrils.  It was only a few steps, and I was soon standing on my knees, like a gold prospector inspecting a cave.  I sat there, my feet resting just above her lips, considering how I would attack the situation, when Noelle spoke. 

“Get started, before I decided to sneeze.”  And with that, I cringed, reaching in bare handed into the depths of Noelle’s nasal cavity. 

My body immediately rejected the sensation, and I wanted to pull my hand back out, but I knew that could be disastrous.  I didn’t want to end up back in her stomach, I’m pretty sure I would not be coming out next time, at least not the way I had entered.  With that thought in mind, I dug deeper, until my shoulder was pushing up against her nose.  Finding no obstruction immediately, I moved my hand closer to the wall of the nose, and found my hand in a thickening mess of snot.  A shudder went down my spine, but I kept grabbing at it, until I had found enough to grab.  Finding that I could not pull it away with a single hand, I shifted, and inserted my left hand as well.  Now, with my entire plastered again Noelle’s right nostril, I felt her breathing increase in pressure, especially though the other nostril. 
“What are you doing in there?  I said clean it out!”  She spoke, a little more agitated.  Using a little more force, I began to pull, feeling a very distinct resistance from Noelle’s snot.  Like any level headed slave, instead of investigating the cause of the problem, I just pulled harder, and harder.  With no sign of relent, I finally reset my grip, took a deep breath and pulled with all my might, in one mighty tug.

“OW!”  Was all I got to hear, but I’m sure there were more words to follow.  Unfortunately, I was too busy cascading across the room, due to Noelle suddenly moving to an upright position, and tossing me off of her face, to the floor on the other side of the room.  I must have blacked out for a few seconds upon impact in the carpet, because I woke up with a swelling headache, and holding a short, blonde nose hair in my mucus covered arm. 

Needless to say, we didn’t try that again, and I never found myself inside her ear either.

A few hours later, I was freed from being held in a plastic cup above the cupboard in the kitchen, and given a new assignment.  This time, paint Noelle’s toenails.  She explained that she needed to be sure I could handle the task, before moving on to her fingernails, because she could always hide a bad pedicure with sneakers.

Given my previous experiences with Noelle’s feet, I can’t say that I was necessarily looking forward to the work, but it was better than the threat of spending the day inside her shoe, which she’d threatened to do for screwing this up, too.  She poured some nail polish into a bottle cap, and set me on the floor with a few of those shredded rags, then sat at the couch in front of me to watch TV while I worked.

Noelle’s toes were the most beautiful, perfectly formed toes that I’d ever seen.  But I may be biased, I’d never seen paid much attention to women’s feet until I’d spent so much time around Noelle’s.  Her biggest toe was only an inch or two taller than me, the others, my height, or shorter.  The toenails were unpainted, which I was relieved to see, it would have taken an hour or more to remove the paint, and I didn’t expect her to sit here for two or three hours while I did the whole job, when she could go to a nail salon and get a better job done in less than half the time. 

I caught myself day dreaming, and was stirred from it by Noelle’s powerful foot tapping one single time, reminding me that it was her own time that I was wasting, not mine.  Seeing that expansive sole of hers crush the tiny carpet fibers that were unfortunate enough to wind up under it was enough motivation to send me running to the pile of rags, dip it into the deep purple lacquer, and begin my work.  

The smallest toe seemed like a logical place to start, so that by the time I reach her biggest toe, I would have a better idea of what I was doing for the more noticeable toes.  The pinky toe only came up to about my waist, so I decided to attack it as if I were washing the hood of my car.  There was about as much surface area, too, so in no time, I found that I had already moved on for the next toe, a little taller, but not out of reach.

I had thought that being this close to my goddess’ feet would offer some kind of musky, feminine smell of sweat, and it did, but I was not repulsed by it, like I expected to be.  It hinted with the scent of some sort of generic lotion, but I found myself able to ignore it.   

As time passed though, I felt myself getting light-headed from the smell of the nail paint, and my pace slowed, especially as I reached the third toe, which was out of my reach.  If I was having trouble here, the biggest toe would seem impossible.  

I was still, however, humbled by my size.  Noelle had remained incredibly still, only every few minutes would her toes wiggle, knocking me off my balance.  Over the course of my painting, Noelle, too, had realized my inability to paint her biggest toe, and once I had gotten to that point, she lifted the paint from the floor, and set it on the plain of her foot.  I was left to climb her toes to reach it.  It wasn’t much of a challenge though, and once I had scaled the warm, tanned digits of my goddess’ lovely foot, I immediately got to work.

Her biggest toe ended up being the easiest, for the most part; it was just, well, bigger.  I made more trips back and forth between the paint and the toenail than with all the other toes combined.  I could feel the warmth of the blood surging through her toes directly under me, and imagined, briefly, what it would be like to serve her in that capacity, to be a simple cell in her bloodstream.  To live out my life in service to her body, with millions of other cells.   

The smell of the paint must have been stronger than I expected though, because in the middle of my fantasy, I felt light-headed.  Just as I was about to call out to her for help, I lost motor function, and stumbled towards her toes again, falling over onto her still wet big toenail, unconscious.

It must have been several minutes before Noelle realized that I was no longer working, and glanced down to see me face down onto her toenail, covered in the paint.  

“I can’t believe he’s taking a break…he hasn’t even gotten to my other foot yet.  I’ll show him who takes a break.”  Noelle though to herself, and carefully reached down, removing the paint cap from her foot.  Then, being even more careful, she leaned back and crossed her leg, over the other, bouncing her foot gently, the foot that I happened to be painted to the toe of. 

I suppose the wind blowing about was enough to inflate my lungs with oxygen again, and I took a deep breath, but opened my eyes to find myself holding on for dear life to her toe.  The paint I was laying in was drying, but had not gotten hard yet.  At most, if was like wet glue to my tiny form.

“Goddess Noelle,” Her name, when I was her servant boy, “help me!”  I whimpered, desperately attempting to climb across the surface of the toenail, to meet the flesh of her foot. 

“Why should I help, when you couldn’t even paint my toes for me?”  She spoke, slowing her pace, but splaying her toes apart briefly.  I managed to pull myself to a safer position, and once I did, she finally set her foot back down.  “You can’t even manage to give me a pedicure without needing to take a nap.  How useless.”  

I kept breathing heavily; even when she leaned down to gently push me off of her toe, landing me with a thud back on the carpet. 

“Gonna have to find a better use for you, huh?  Clean yourself up.”  But before I could ask how, or even catch my breath, Noelle had stood once again, uncaringly walking away.  I felt her powerful footsteps carrying her away, though my eyes were closed, and I couldn’t see.

But even through all this, I thought about those tiny cells, all working so hard to make her body what it is.  I was the only one who could really see how wonderful it all is, how perfect she is.

How magnificent.

My head is pounding. 

Noelle has shifted into her ‘you don’t really exist’ phase with me, and it wouldn’t be so bad, if she actually treated me like I didn’t exist.  The problem with this phase is that she willingly puts me in harm’s way, and then decides I don’t exist, leaving me to escape whatever situation it is on my own.  It would be easier if she left me to fend for myself the whole time.

Today is the fourth day of such treatment, and yesterday was the worst it’s ever been.  The day started with me on the kitchen table.  I believe at some point, earlier in this journal I had mentioned preferring to stay floor level, but I have found that it is better for my own safety that I avoid the floor.  I have only had a few encounters with bugs and once instance with a falling book, but Noelle’s feet were unmerciful, regardless of where I stood in her mind, as I have found out more lately than ever before.

Whatever Noelle’s profession was, she awoke promptly by alarm clock at 7:30.  This meant, for me, I was up at 7:15.  I never knew what the day would hold, so I was sure to be awake before her, and hide somewhere out of sight, so as to avoid her wrath should she want to punish me for something I may or may not be doing, but also hide close enough that if she called my name, I would be immediately available.  Taking too long to be at her fingertips was often an 8 hour sentence in a plastic cup, above the refrigerator.  You’d be surprised how well you do at setting your own body clock, when you fear for your life every morning.

As expected, Noelle was up at 7:30, and I was hiding in the assorted condiments on the table.  Salt, sugar, and pepper shakers three and four times as tall as I was threatened to flatten me, should they topple over.  I remember seeing the salt shaker on its side once.  I could just barely fit my entire arm through the little dispensing holes.  It was one of those humbling moments.

Noelle came in, dawned in her usual sleepwear; a silk robe, bra and panties, those infamous slippers.  As she passed by the counter that I stood on, I made sure to stay hidden.  I try not to think that Noelle is absent minded, as I would never think anything negative of my goddess, but it’s often hard to wager that Noelle is always considering where I may be, and what my circumstances were, and I used that knowledge often.  After a few seconds of banging around, opening of cabinets and doors, I heard Noelle set something plastic down on the cabinet, out of my view.  I couldn’t see much out of the shadow of the condiment shakers, but I knew she had to have been preparing breakfast, as usual.

I also knew that the sugar shaker, with my back against it, was the furthest forward in the group of condiments.  It was the best place to be, should the giantess decide my presence was necessary.  However, it also meant that I had less room to move with the salt and pepper immediately in front of me.  My positioning, this morning, had a potentially fatal flaw.

I never saw Noelle’s graceful hand coming.  In one swift movement, Noelle’s finger appeared around the corner of the sugar shaker, and curled around it, pinning me between the flesh of her index finger and the glass of the shaker.  I immediately began to flail and do my best to avoid her wrath, but the finger was hardly using a quarter of its mass to pin me in my place, and I was helpless, as it carried me up into the air. 

As I have mentioned numerous times before, Noelle seemed to enjoy my torment, especially when she had the pleasure of pretending that she was unaware that it was happening at her hands.  This often led to dramatic, unnecessary movement on her part, and dramatic, unnecessary stress on mine.

Before I was even give a good perspective on where I was going, my world inverted, and I heard the sound of sugar draining out of the dispenser.  It was hardly to see below me, but I could tell by the sound alone that the sugar was being poured into liquid.  Coffee, maybe?  I didn’t really care; I just wanted the blood to stop rushing to my head before I had a nose bleed. 

My wish was granted, though, as you may expect, not in the way I wanted it to.  I felt Noelle’s finger budge, and I grabbed hold of it for support, but it was too little, too late.  The finger released its grip on me, and I tumbled off of it, into a free fall.  My eyes immediately closed.  Unless Noelle decided to catch me, I was going to crack my head on the marble counter top, or suffer second degree burns from the coffee, all over my body.  Either way, life was about to suck.

And nothing sucks worse than to prepare yourself for one sensation, like being burned alive, and receive the opposite, like splashing into ice cold milk.

I immediately swam to the surface, and wiped the milk out of my eyes, only to be pelted with baseball-sized grains of sugar.  Swimming out of the way, pulled myself onto what I thought was land, only it was orange, and hard.  No questions about where I was, especially as I got my first view of the rim’s of Noelle’s deep, blue cereal bowl. 

As soon as I had made the realization, the cascade of sugar came to an end, and I got my first glance of Noelle’s sleepy looking face.  Staring down at me, like god herself (or himself, whatever the case may be), and uncaringly reaching for what I assumed was a spoon.  I’d been to Noelle’s stomach once, and I knew, in the state of mind that she was in now, another trip there would be one way. 

“Goddess!  Noelle, please help me!”  I called out to her, half heartedly.  But this was the third day that Noelle had refused to acknowledge me; it was unlikely that it would change now.  Her only response was to yawn, her soft, unpainted lips parting to reveal the inside of that terrible cave of destruction beyond, shrouded in darkness, other than the pearl white teeth that protected it.

She knew I was here, I knew that I was an inch tall, which was roughly the same size, or bigger than every corn flake that I found myself sitting on in the hungry giant woman’s bowl.  Noelle had worn reading glasses before, but there was no way she wouldn’t see a tiny man scrambling to the edge of her bowl across a pile of Corn Flakes.

“Oh, oops…”  I heard her say, and as I half crawled, half swam through the bowl, I glanced up, hopeful that her ‘oops’ was forgetting to rescue me before dining.  I was not so lucky.   As Noelle stepped away, my heart sank.  However, when she returned, I don’t think my heart could have fallen any harder.  One by one, I watch as she began to dice large slices of banana into the bowl. 

Yes, goddess, please add insult to injury.

The first landed on the opposite side of the bowl from me.  A little splash, no harm.  The next, however, came hurtling towards me, and it was all I could do to get out of the way.  With the Corn Flakes still mostly hard, not soggy at all, I could stay buoyant, but it wasn’t until the third landed in front of me, causing a rift between a patch of cereal, and I fell face first into the milk grabbing onto the uncooperative slice of banana to pull myself up.  I felt ridiculous, and infuriated at the same time.

It’s funny how those feelings all seemed to melt into one gigantic, emotional mess though.  It didn’t take long for there to be enough banana slices in the bowl, and Noelle stepped away for a split second, only to return with that spoon again.  This time, she sat down. 

“Goddess, please let me out!”  A benefit of the bananas was that they were more stable than the fickle Corn Flakes.  They provided more structure to the swamp like atmosphere inside the bowl, and it was easier to clamber from fruit slice to fruit slice.  Noelle had other plans though.  She had grabbed a newspaper, and set it down next to the bowl,  then slipped the spoon inside her breakfast finally, beginning to sti

It started out as a gentle spinning, nothing I could handle.  Maybe she was giving me the chance to escape?  I had confidence that if I made it to the edge of the bowl, I would be granted freedom.  With that idea in mind, I did my best to avoid trying to swim through the cereal, and stay on top of the bananas and flakes. 

Noelle must have predicted this though, because her stirring shifted from a circular motion, to a chopping motion.  In that first lift, the gigantic spoon, twice as large as me at the head, dropped through the air inches in front of me, dripping with milk. It surfaced only seconds later, tossing me off of the banana I was clinging to, and back into the milk.  I recovered quickly, and half expected a giggle from Noelle, but there was none.  She did however, continue to chop up the cereal with her spoon, and yawn again.

Finally, she grew tired of this game, and her hunger took precedence.  Her first spoonful, luckily, was far from me, and I watched as my innocent breakfast brethren were carried high into the air on that dripping, deadly spoon.  For a second, I looked further up to Noelle’s eyes, and regretted it.  Noelle hadn't even been looking at the spoon; I very well could have been on it, and she wouldn't have known. Those perfect lips separated, and the spoon delivered the passengers inside.  The spoon slipped out perfectly clean, and I heard the most terrible, devastating, crunching noise I’d ever heard from a human’s mouth.

That single chew from Noelle’s powerful jaws was enough to send me running again.  No more calling for help, it wasn’t coming.

The edge of the bowl wasn’t far.  Two bananas and five flakes away, to be precise.  I was already celebrating the joy of having solid ground under my feet, when Noelle’s spoon struck again.  It cut through the banana I was clambering over, tossing me back into the milk.  When I resurfaced, half of the banana was next to me, the other half floating off somewhere.  But there was no mistaking that cold, chilling sensation of metal under me, and as hard as I tried to fight it, that accursed banana conspired with the spoon to trap me between them and several soggy corn flakes.  I fought, I fought hard, but my energy was less than half, thanks to the chill of the milk, and the surprising heaviness of that banana slice.  Before I knew it, I was fifty feet in the air, or so it felt, and climbing. 

“Noelle!”  Another pointless scream, but I couldn’t just sit there and be devoured, could I?  As I got higher, I could feel Noelle’s breath beating down on me, and the other items chosen for her consumption.  I think she must have felt my added weight the spoon, because the ascent began to slow as we neared her face.

Passing her neck, I could see her chin bobbing gently, and higher, her lips shifting and contorting up and down.  She was still chewing that last bite, slowly and deliberately.

Nearly the same time we, as in those of us doomed to navigate Noelle’s digestive tract, arrived at Noelle’s mouth, she finished chewing, pausing our journey.  The edge of the spoon rested lightly on her lower lip, so close that I could see nothing but those warm, pouty tiers of flesh, daunting and beautiful.  As I admired them with both awe and respect, Noelle took an exaggerated swallow.  Her entire jaw shifted slightly, and the sound of her muscles pushing everything out of her mouth, and into the pit of her esophagus seemed even louder than when I had made that same journey.  I was only glad that I could not see her neck undulate with the swallow.

“Mmm.”  She uttered, loud enough that my ears throbbed, and I looked upward to see if she was looking at me, but was only greeted with the sight of her nostrils flaring, as she inhaled hard enough to send my hair whipping around my face.  For fuck’s sake, she was taunting me.

“Ahh...”  Finally, it was my turn to revisit that mouth of Those lips parted ever so softly, so slowly, so majestically, until they exposed that perfect, pink tongue.  With an intentional, methodical patience, Noelle delivered me, spoon, cereal, banana and all, into her waiting mouth.   The temperature and humidity exploded the moment we passed her teeth, each as tall as my chest.   We were set with the most precise aim onto the slick surface of her tongue, where she finally closed her mouth again, sealing us in darkness.

I heard the distinct click of her front teeth settle on the metal spoon, and it jarred me forward, just in enough time for the spoon to slide out of her mouth with a loud, high pitched scraping sound.  Her lips sealed shut, and the sound of dripping saliva from every crevice of my organic jail cell rung in my ears.

The tongue shifted…she was beginning to chew. 

Noelle…my cruel, hateful goddess…she is anything but what I thought she was.  How could I have ever worshipped her?

My hatred for her in this moment is absolutely…magnificent.

(To be continued.)

“Oh god!  Please Noelle, please don’t eat me!”  I screamed at the top of my lungs, hoping that she would have mercy on me.   My pride won’t allow me to call her goddess anymore; the goddess that I know wouldn’t knowingly drop me into her cereal to devour.  I am not breakfast, I am not cereal, and I am not anyone’s property.  I am a person of value.

I am Ryan Matthews, and I am magnificent. 

My fear was overwhelmed by my innate will to survive, and anger at Noelle for treating me like this.  My life is worth more than to be eaten by some gigantic, hungry, ill-intending blonde bombshell.  There was a time where I would have had the courage to ask Noelle to dinner, but she has since destroyed that confidence, much of it still residing in the pit of her stomach, from my last short visit to her vast depths.  I would not allow her to destroy what was left of my will power by what may have been a feigned attempt to establish her authority.

But Noelle was merciless. 

There was only a brief second of quiet serenity after that spoon had slipped back out of her mouth.  Just long enough for me to find that brand new will to fight, and prepare for war inside oral battlefield.  Her teeth surrounded like the mightiest of walls, top and bottom together measured just a few inches taller than my full height.  I would pry those teeth apart and escape this sticky, humid, damp, personal hell, or die trying.  Noelle had other plans though, and my idea to pull her teeth apart, however unrealistic, suddenly became a reality.

They didn’t separate very far.  I hardly got the chance to notice the separation, with the darkness, and facing her throat, which was an entirely different enemy.  I felt myself, as well as the tongue that I rested on, littered with cereal bits and a lone banana, lower.  Putting things together, I realized that Noelle’s jaw was lowering to begin the chewing process.  I had intended to stay put in the middle of the tongue and ride it through this whole experience, but the moment Noelle’s jaw had lowered as low as it needed to, that powerful muscle beneath us, (us being the victims of the woman’s palette) reared into the air like a thick red whale, and twisted it’s body to the right and left, sending us all tumbling along it’s flesh until we were resting on either side of the mouth, right on those teeth.

I, being the only consumed victim with the mind to save himself, scrambled back onto the tongue, back into the swamp-like milk, which had long sense warmed in the heat and humidity of Noelle’s mouth.  With her lips still closed, I couldn’t see much, but I didn’t need to see to feel that jaw rise again, and those powerful teeth crush into those flakes of cereal, and that banana slice, nearly the back with the molars.  I couldn’t let it happen to me. 

I pushed myself back into a crawling, stance, intent on making my way back to the world of the living beyond those crushing teeth and smothering lips.  I hadn’t gotten too far in that ambition, before the jaw lowered again, preparing for another chew, the tongue lifting to push more food around in that cavern to the teeth.  I recovered, and turned back to escape again, only to repeat the action again upon a third chew.  Every motion created by jaw movement, crushing teeth, or strike of tongue created more activity, until my world was no longer simply dark and humid.  I don’t think I can liken the experience to anything anyone on this earth has experienced.  Bits of banana, corn flake, and saliva tormented everywhere, there was no place you could go that you were not being smacked by something sticky, warm, and disgustingly sweet.

The sound of her crunching had once been loud and distinct, like the sound of hundreds of soldiers marching in sync through a field of fallen branches and sticks.  Gradually it had become more of a sloshing, slopping kind of sound.

Outside of my hellish wasteland though, Noelle was chewing rather calmly on her cereal, no more aggressively than she would had there not been a tiny man clawing for his freedom inside.  Her attention was focused on the comic strip she was reading, smiling gently.

Before long though, my fellow consumed were nothing but mush, but I was still intact, other than some heavy bruises.  I knew the swallowing was next. 

Fortunately though, this was easier to manage than the chewing, I simply dove under Noelle’s tongue as it lifted to push the slimy mass into her throat.  I would have saluted them, but I had to prioritize.  Being the only thing left in Noelle’s mouth, I climbed back aboard the tongue to attempt to pry those teeth open again.  There was no way she couldn’t feel me there.

For a second time, I was surprised that as I was nearly making my way to her incisors again, that those teeth began to part, and I was blinded by light.  She must have been rewarding me from surviving her breakfast, and was allowing me freedom.

But once the lips parted, I was greeted by anything but freedom. 

That spoon, carrying more passengers to their doom, slipped inside, immediately pummeling me and knocking me onto my backside on the tongue again, just as the head of the spoon arrived fully inside.  As last time, the lips closed around the spoon, but this time, the spoon was pulled out quickly and purposefully, burying me in a much heftier load of cereal.  I’d forgotten, in my haste that I had only been in the second or possibly third spoonful the giant woman had taken. 

Time to fight again.

The mouth sprung to life again with renewed vigor, the chewing violently threatening to tear me to shreds, while assaulting my ear drums.  The thought that Noelle had just covered me in more of her breakfast, and began indiscriminately chewing again told me that it mattered very little to her if I survived or not.  I wasn’t special to her; I was disposable, maybe even…replaceable? 

If I survive this, experience with Noelle, I will be sure to find a way to prevent this from happening to anyone else again.  I have to.  I can’t die, just to be replaced by someone else.  I had to get away! 

But for now, the chaos continued.  It was always the same, Noelle ate a bite of cereal, I was covered in it, she chewed swallowed, and went for another bite.  There were several bites that nearly had me tumbling down her throat, and I’m not sure why I didn’t end up there.  She wasn’t being careful to avoid chewing me, why would she care if I was swallowed?   Did she want me to have a quick end?  Whatever her reasoning was, I had learned to avoid the fear of being swallowed, and focused my intent on escaping. 

At one point, I had predicted perfectly when she would open for another bite and lined myself up so that I could squirm out of the corner of her mouth, just as the spoon returned with another load.   I didn’t have much of a plan, I just wanted out, and I don’t think the greatest stunt coordinator could have executed my escape more splendidly. 

What I didn’t expect, however, was to tumble over her lips, and keep falling.  I assumed I would fall to my doom, but fate had a nasty way of playing with my emotions…and my penis.

I fell down the line of her neck, until I felt something soft trace against me just barely.  I instinctively grabbed a hold and pulled tight, then screamed in pain when I thought I had ripped my hands off of my arms from stopping so quickly in free fall.  But I had stopped, and was still alive.

My wrists throbbed, obviously upset with having to support my entire body.  I needed to get let go, but first I needed somewhere to land.  I half expected Noelle’s fingers to wrap around me and squeeze me to a pulp, or drop me back in her cereal, but she seemed to keep playing her game,  continuing to chew while she reached for the bowl to drink the rest of the milk.  I still wonder if I would have survived that.

My wrists throbbed again, reminding me of how pissed they were at me, and I finally took a look around at where I was, and realized that I had latched onto the fabric of Noelle’s silken robe.  It was long enough that I could climb to the ground, but I didn’t dare risk spending time at Noelle’s feet.

I also hadn’t stopped to notice just where I had grabbed a hold, until I noticed a friendly warmth, and peeked to see where it was coming from.  My answer came quickly. 

The swell of Noelle’s breasts, in a lace bra, was one of the most fantastic sites I had ever seen so closely.  I could hear her swallowing above me, and as she did so, I swear I could hear the milk rinsing down her throat.  With each swallow, I heard a light gulp, and it reflected in the gentle rise and fall of the woman’s breasts, a C cup, easily. 

Only a few inches above, the curve of her bra exposed the flesh of her cleavage, and seemed like the best place to go, for now.  Sure, I could climb up to her shoulder, but that was much farther, and if Noelle was going to keep ignoring me and my plight, I deserved to enjoy myself, and the curves of her body.  With renewed vigor, but more pain, I pulled myself up those last few yards, or inches, depending on your perspectives, and swung that silk fabric to and fro with my bodyweight, until it bounced gently against Noelle’s breast.  On a third swing, I jumped and grabbed the lace of the bra, pulling myself up to rest between it, and her skin. 

The warmth generated from the giant woman’s breasts was incredible, nearly that of being in her mouth.  And her skin?  It was the softest, most delectable flesh I’d ever felt, shrunken or not.  I wanted to bury my face in it, but knowing Noelle’s hair trigger wrath, I simple dug my feet into the lace of her bra, and rested for a moment, giving my swollen wrists a break. 

Just as I did that, Noelle stood, yawning and stretching her arms into the air.  The skin of her breasts compensated, shifting me some, and I went tumbling along the slope of her bosom, closer towards the cleavage canyon between the breasts.

Finally, she let out a high pitched sigh, followed by a cute, girlish burp. 

“Oh…excuse me!”  She giggled to herself, a little more than necessary, but just enough to allow that chest of hers to bounce, sending me ever closer to the endless valley, until I began to lose my grip.  Her next step cemented that fate, and I began tumbling down the warm, soft skin to the lost world between Noelle’s boobs. 

I didn’t know how far I would slide, but I tried to enjoy it.  Besides, how often did you get to slip into a woman’s bra?  Sometimes being this small is terrible.  Never mind, most of the time being this small is terrible.  But other times?

It’s magnificent.