Tim's head hurt like all hell as he came slowly back to conciousness. He peeled his eyes open for a brief instant before slamming them shut against the harsh glare of lights. His mind was all fog and confusion, his entire body flush with pain. Worst of all, Tim had no memory of where or why.

He lay face-down and disoriented; eyes clamped shut and mind groping for some dim sense of situational awareness. Gradually, Tim noticed the warmth, then the luxurious softness of the surface beneath him. It felt more heavenly than any bed, and the sense of constant heat soothed Tim's aching soul. There was a rythmic sense of movement, a steady rocking up and down like the ebb and flow of waves upon the ocean. Tim felt blissful in the sweet, mysterious warmth. As his head cleared the pain gave way to a deep-rooted sense of ease and belonging. Tim smiled, knowing he could lie there all eternity, caught upon the gentle dream-tides between Conciousness and Un.

Emily smiled down at Tim, amazed by how cute her tiny boyfriend looked sprawled out on her tummy. Stretched out upon her bed she waited patiently, drawing little circles around him with her finger, high on anticipation for the experience ahead.

"He's going to love this!" she thought with devilish glee, surprised at how worked up she really was. At first Emily rejected Tim's fetish as weird, gross, and impossible, yet months later here she was with wolfish eyes, and a lucid, lustful sense of desire. Emily's whole body hummed with electric energy, another lazy circle drawn lightly across her skin. She gazed at his adorable form, thrilled with herself for what she was about to do.  

Tim shifted, and sent a deep flutter through Emily's core - her eyes snapped shut, as a little gasp escaped her lips. "This is good!" she thought, feeling him stir around, coming back from the shrinking powder she slipped him.

"I do love him, with everything I have... and this... this is what he wants more than anything in the world." she reminded herself. "It's strange, but when you think about it, not unnatural.  Predator and prey are nature itself. Love is an endless struggle between the hunger to have, and the thirst to give. Why must it be a battle?  Pure Love is an act that satisfies both. Tim dreams of this, and now I know why... seeing him down there, helpless and unaware, I feel the need myself. I... holy shit, I really do want this!" Emily hummed with all her electric soul as she brushed a finger-nail lightly down his tiny spine.

"Even if he changes his mind..."

Something touched him, and Tim jolted from his slumber. Sudden fear and confusion banished the narcotic called dreams. His eyes snapped open and his arms shot out as he felt something sinister run down his back. He tried to stand and was pushed back down. His eyes saw nothing his brain could make sense of, and he stayed down until the intruder was gone. As soon as he was free Tim lept to his feet and, for the first time since regaining conciousnes saw something his brain absolutely could make sense of...

                     The Dream. The Kink. The Fucking Impossible Sight.

Above him Emily's smile dawned into a brilliant grin as Tim gazed into her dazzling eyes. He was awestruck by his gigantic, excited girlfriend towering over him in a way he had only imagined. Tim tumbled backwards into the warm, yielding pillow from which he'd risen, realizing for the first time what it truely was. Exhillaration shot through him as he fell into the soft, peachy skin of Emily's belly. (Ahh that sweet, awaiting Eden.) This was a lifelong desire coming true! Full sensory overload hit him like a thousand bricks: dueling senses of absolute yearning and rabid fear swarmed his already confused mind. He knew it was impossible, yet there she was above him, around him, beneath him, the gentle swell of her breath rising and falling, indescribable eyes fixated on his. The smooth, curving expanse of her beautiful stomach, a squelchy groan rumbling somewhere just beneath the surface... This was too much, he couldn't believe it. A dream! Impossible! It must be a fever that made him feel so terrible and brought this bizzare hallucination. No way this was really happeni-

"Tim!" 

The sound of his name from those sweet lips snapped Tim back to reality with all the authority of a magic spell. This was no dream. He looked up into her huge, radiant face and said the most clever thing he could think of:

"Um... w-what's up?"

"Well, me, of course! But that's not really the question is it sweetie?" 

Emily giggled, and Tim found himself bouncing slightly on her supple skin as her whole body shook. She never called him sweetie before. He steadied himself as best he could and wondered how to proceed. Now that the initial shock was gone he was able to grasp the reality of the situation, but what kind of situation was this really? This is exactly what he always wanted, but he never told this secret to Emily. He never told it to any one. Did she know his wildest fantasy, or was this some sick game of her own? Even if she knew, what kind of psychopath was she to shrink him without asking? A weird tinge of hope and fear made him choose a path of caution.

"I have so many questions... can you tell me where to start?" Tim asked.

Emily brushed her finger in another lazy circle around him and watched his eyes follow it in an uneasy trance. He was all hers now, and he already knew it. Tim was too shy to admit it, even now, but she knew what he wanted, and he was powerless to stop her from doing it. All she had to do was reach out and take him. A simple pluck between her fingers, a flick of the wrist, a parting of the lips, one sensual gulp and, bon appetite, both of their crazy dreams would come true! The darkest part of her was hoping he wouldn't want it, that he would shy away from his deepest fantasy and beg not to go. Too bad. She had a dream of her own now, and she was powerless to stop herself. 

"The real question isn't 'what's up?" Emily said in her playful voice.

Then she got serious.

"You know what's up Tim, I've read it in all your stories. A beautiful woman shrinks a man for purposes all her own, and one way or another, willing or not, he serves that purpose. Tinys always serve their goddess in your stories, don't they Tim?"

Tim stared up at her blankly, too petrified to speak. He never knew she'd seen those stories, he'd been careful to hide them... and to find out after all this time that she was into it... he was terrified. Fantasy is one thing, but sitting on the smooth flesh of Emily's tummy, mere inches above her growling, waiting stomach, Tim understood that reality was quite another. Yes, he wanted Emily to eat him more than anything in the world, but now that she was clearly about to do it, he wasn't so sure. That would be the end of him after all, and as much as he loved the idea of being sweetly consumed and lovingly digested, he also loved the idea of staying alive. 

"Why couldn't we have talked about this- I mean... Emily this is amazing, but...you...  you shrank me without even asking!"

"Oh Tim, you love it when the prey has no choice. It's one of your favorite things to write about. I didn't ask you because food is food, you know? And food doesn't get to decide it doesn't want to be eaten so down it goes! I read that in your notebook."

"You've read the notebook!?" Tim shouted, warning alarms blaring in his brain.

"Yes Tim, and you really should take more care with your computer too. Listen, I know how badly you want this, and honestly you should have brought it up sooner. I'm your girlfriend! You should feel free to tell me anything! I don't ever want us to be separated from each other in anyway... and that's why I'm offering the chance to be together in the best of ways, forever."

Tim gulped hard, reflecting on how many lines just like that he'd written.

"Emily, you know how weird this stuff really is right? I mean, the chances of you being into it were next to impossible, and it's like super embarassing... I've never told anyone, They'll think I'm batshit..."

"Tim, when I first found that notebook, back when we started dating, it grossed me out. I had never thought of or seen anything like that, and it scared me. You were so perfect in every other way, except for this one crazy monster in your closet. I started noticing you at dinner, sneaking little peeks as I swallowed; if I got up from the table your eyes would flash straight to my stomach, just for a moment. It was sooo weird, but I really, really liked you, and over time I saw that it wasn't creepy, it was just something random that you happend to love. Something you always had to keep hidden even though I could tell you needed to express it so badly... then, in an effort to try and understand, I pulled a sneaky-girlfriend and found your stories."

"They were still weird at first, and I didn't understand, but slowly I started to see what you meant. You're an excellent author Tim, I got swept up in your themes of love and belonging, purpose and satisfaction... those things made sense to me. I started loving the power dynamic between predator and prey, I wanted to know how it would feel to have total control. Of course, it didn't hurt that most of your stories were about me! I got to see a different side of myself; a powerful towering goddess, not just some fuckable pretty girl."

Emily winked in an exagerated manner and suddenly flicked him with her finger to emphasize the idea of control. Tim flew ass-first into her belly-button, taken by surprise, but unhurt. He landed there with his body sunk down in the pit, his arms reaching up over the sides. His head came to rest on the swell of her lower abdomen, and it was like he was lounging in the worlds comfiest inner-tube. He gazed up her long torso, her pale stomach rising up to meet the swell of her breasts, twin mountains to him with a valley so soft between them; up along the graceful curves of her neck and the delicate lines of her throat, up to her lips, full and ever smiling, and at last they locked eyes and he could see wildfires burning in the wide windows of her soul. He was well and truely lost now: all survival instincts brushed aside by the flame of his greatest desire, stoaked by Emily's lusty enchantments. 

Resigning himself in his own mind, yet still trying to keep face Tim simply replied:

"Those other stories were written before I met you. You're the only one I think of."

Emily giggled hard, sending Tim on another miniature roller-coaster ride of flesh. Her right hand started manuevering deftly up behind him, while the other slid lower, vanishing beneath the sheets.

"I forgive you for writing about other girls Tim!" she laughed again, but with the slightest sigh at the end. "After this maybe I'll find those girls. Use your stories to try and convert them you know? Start a little coven of people-eaters, maybe conquer the world. At the very least, they can always be converted into nutrients, am I right?" 

Another absurdly exaggerated wink followed, and Tim was completly enamoured with how into this she really was. Emily had done more than research the part, she had grown into it. She was the powerful, towering goddess looming above him with wildfires in her eyes. Emily was the truth, and truth is the highest power. His girlfriend went all the fuck out to give him his greatest fantasy, and the least he could do was be thankful and accept the gift. He had no doubts now. Emily's free hand rose up stealthily behind him...

"Emily, I-

*Plmmph!* 

Her hand covered his whole body, pressing him down into her warm, yielding skin. She held him there for a while, just holding him gently down, trapped between her hand and her belly. Tim was completely surrounded by Emily's flesh for the very first time, and he couldn't help but enjoy it with all his soul. His body transfered a great deal of blood from one head to the other. It grew tepid and hot in his prison rather quickly, his breath steamed the tight space, but it was a good heat, a living heat! Here more than ever, with his head pressed down into her tummy, he could hear the groans, the gurgles, the faraway murmers of dreamy digestion and delight. He was getting sweaty and dizzy as she kept him held down, but he felt safe, accepted. He was so, so close to his impossible dream, just an inch above the surface of the dank cathedral of his darkest thoughts. He closed his eyes and listened intently to the growling symphony of his lover's stomach. 

"That's where her food goes..." he thought. "All the food that keeps her beautiful and strong; all those lucky morsels that became a part of her. I would be the best, and luckiest little snack wouldn't I?"

After what seemed an enternity Tim heard her speak once more. In a way, her voice seemed muffled, but in another it reverberated in a strong way he had never heard before. For the first time, Tim was hearing Emily's voice through her body, not just the air. Her words were slow, lilting, deliciously soft... with an occasional sudden gasp.

"Now, we don't have much longer. I feel it Tim, I know what it is to have complete control, and you have gotten your taste of being powerless. Let's not fight it, let's be who we want to be, do what we're both aching to do. Let's do it together, be with me forever, for I am willing to give what no one else can. It is your choice whether to go willing down, or resist and go down anyways. I'm going to let you up, your next decision is yours to make. Please Tim, ask the right question!"

Emily's hand lifted with a slight sucking sound and Tim gasped briefly for fresh air. The air tasted of her, everything he could smell was her. He climbed out of her navel shaking with nerves and anticipation. He steadied himself on her belly, taking the sight of her in as completly as he could. She was the most beautiful girl in the world, and Tim was at her beck and call. He spent most of his life imagining this and the reality was infinitly more angelic. Behind him came the sound of rythmic rustling in the sheets, but his mind was focused wholly on the moment in front of him. He kneeled down like a gentleman, steady now, acustomed to the slow rolling of her breath. From one knee he gazed once more into her fiery eyes and saw galaxies reflecting back. He held out his hands like he'd seen in the movies, and asked, in his best voice possible:

"Emily, will you... will you.. do me the honour of um..."-

"Just say it Mr. Smooth!"

"Swallowing me?"

Emily's mouth shot open in mock surprise, and for the first time in their conversation Tim fully saw the inky blackness of her throat, surrounded on all sides by a brilliant, wet pink.

"A lot of first times today." thought Tim.

Emily's entire body spasmed as one of her legs jerked reflexively at the knee. Her hand came again, but this time he was flying, plucked between her fingers. Suddenly her wide open mouth, with it's inviting shades of darkness was all he could see.

"This is it" was all he had time to think.

Her hand slowed, her lips puckered, and Tim crash-landed into a full-on kiss! It was a wonderful experience smushed against those wonderful, loving lips, but while flying through the air Tim had remembered fear. It was too much, too fast. What did I just goddamn agree to?!?

As she pulled him away with a soft smack he started to yell, but up this close she simply drowned him out.

"Yes! I thought you'd never ask! Of course, Tim, my sweet little Tim..."

She could tell he was yelling and squirming so she shifted her thumb to cover his face. Emily's darker part gave a primal roar of approval in her brain. One hand dug in deep, the other lifted to the sky. Now it was she that gazed up at him. 

Emily shifted her thumb back to give him air and a view like no other. As she beheld her prey struggling fruitlessly above her, she took the time to say what she needed him to hear so intensely:

"Once you're down there, I'll tell what it was. Your best line of poetry... The one thing that shot right through me and made me understand. Tim I love you! Welcome to the dream, baby! Scream the whole way down if you have to!"

"Fuck me," thought Tim. "She's one beautiful psychopath, I'll give her that."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Dream & Memory: A Story of Becoming ~~~~~~~~~~~~

Emily took him by the hand, and Tim allowed himself the risk. Down the shadowy hallway together they fled, enraptured by the promise of moonlight. She opened the door and whispered "Here..." They entered together without hesitation.  

It was a whirlwind of chance and dreams, their love. Nothing was certain, everything in flux. She regarded him with the softest of suspicions, and he the same, until the mad fingers of midnight sparked a secret fire in their souls. They burst together into the pheonix-flame of passion: unrelenting in their pursuit of ash and renewal. They entwined their souls repeatedly, sheltered against the dark by one another's shadow; gleefully tricking the moonlight into shining their way. 

Emily and Tim loved better than the best before them, and went unmatched ever after. They met as sand and sea; each absolved into the other, and neither could define any boundery between the mix. If they stumbled at all, they fell together: most often into bedsheets. Each passing glance between them was a bridge securely built. Occasionaly they would just sneer at each other, and laugh, and laugh, and laugh...

They dug each other, that much was always true.

Tim did his best to suppress his deepest desires and enjoy a regular, healthy relationship, but it wasn't long before he lost control. Every soft brush of her breath on his skin, each throat-revealing howl of laughter, and many inadvertant tummy grumbles drew him helplessly deeper into his impossible dream. He wrote stories about her whenever they were apart: watched delicate morsels disappear down her throat when together. He didn't dare tell her of his fantasies. 

Tim loved Emily, but something in his head was wired wrong. The normal human desires in his brain were overwhelmed by the absurd need to surrender himself to her angelic grace. Being lovers wasn't close enough for Tim. He wanted to belong to her in the ultimate way: he was a hard-wired lemming aching to be prey.  

He never understood where these passions came from, nor why he felt such strange yearnings with such force, but they had always been there. Before he even had a name for it, Vore was the primary fixation of his otherwise ordinary mind. In his childhood, far before anything was sexual, he would wrap himself in blankets and pretend he was being devoured by some great worm. He saw (along with his entire generation) countless examples of cartoon mice narrowly escaping the treacherous gullets of cartoon cats. They always wound up saved somehow, by luck, or (more likely) cartoonists too lazy to create a new main character. Tim always watched these breif, barbaric scenes with a sort of hopeful awe. Mousey would run straight into the waiting maw of some selfish kitty, taken by surprise as triumphant jaws snapped shut around their unsuspecting prize. You could see the sudden fear and understanding in the mouse's eyes as the whole television screen displayed a great red arch, a dangling uvula, and the edges of kitty's tongue sloping menacingly down into a circle of inky blackness...

They always took the time to show the drama of the moment, those sick fucks at the helm of children's entertainment. Often our T.V. heros would be forced to desperately cling to the swaying uvula of their captor; screaming, clawing, and begging not to go down. Tim would watch in wild rapture wondering if this would finally be the time. It never was.

Tim always wished that they would just show it: send that mousey straight down the pipe as nature intended. Let the children see a conquering feline swallow it's rightful prey. In the real world it doesn't matter if you're a hero. There is no plot protection, no benevolent storyboard-director to keep you safe from harm... if you find yourself in kitty's mouth, your next destination is most likely a stomach. Fuck your story, and whoever's watching! Kitty has her own ideas and needs.

He grew up and started liking girls. 

The fascination transformed itself immediatly. 

Tim wrote his first story about an emo girl from church camp. He did not know the word 'vore', nor did he have any concept that there might be others like him. His innocence was still intact then, and Parental Controls insured he would never shatter it by accident. All he knew was he loved a pale, rebellious beauty, and she captivated him with every possible charm.

It didn't start with a Giantess fetish. It was vore all the way. That sweet, sultry girl towered a thousand times over him in his darkest dreams because that was the only way she could logically swallow him whole. The size difference was simply a necessity, the real thrill for Tim was the visceral thought of being squeezed down her throat. He couldn't get it out of his head. It was a weird and unnatural desire and he knew it, but in a rage of horny confusion he took his adolescent thoughts to the page one night and scribbled out his story: 

'A towering goddess and her willing little snack. The swift ascent of her hand, him dangling from her fingers. The slow, tantilizing parting of sweet lips. Warm breathe and a glimpse of brilliant pink and terrifying darkness. A look in her eyes of calm, predatory command. Being tossed, flicked, or downright dropped down into the chasm below. Landing on her tongue, feeling it wrap around and pull him in. All-powerful muscle in complete feminine control. Darkness. Heat. A moan, a sigh, and a playful suck. 

Slowly, gracefully, the Princess of Darkness closes her eyes and tilts her head back. He knows she's doing it deliberatly. Teasing him. He is willful, yet afraid. No time to back out, her tongue rises, her throat gapes open and she gulps him headfirst into her eager, awaiting throat. Sliding. Squeezed. Swallowed. Not quite eaten, but being eaten! The slick, uncomprimising folds of her throat flex and pulsate around him, guiding his descent. A tight squelch. A brief freefall. And then...'

Tim wrote many other stories after that, about numberless girls. He slid into, and through puberty with one singular attraction: a bizzare fascination with the female digestive system. The thought of being consumed, willingly or not, by some exuberant Angel/Demoness dominated his mind and libido. He tried to capture every possible scenario in the pages of his notebook. 

Often he would dream of a graceful, radiant soul-mate swallowing him out of love and charity. He also imagined those same soul-mates greedily gulping him for revenge, or kicks.  Sometimes he wrote about careless self-centered vixons who wouldn't even notice him squirming. Women he hated and despised. These visions were somehow the best! Cunty cunts he wouldn't be caught dead next to snatched him up and sent him screaming down their gross, whore gullets. Once you're in their stomach it doesn't matter how you feel about being food... you are. Get on with it.

It was all chaos and confusion until he found Emily. She got him, dug him, liked him for who he was. Tim genuinely loved her and wanted to spend his life by her side. He couldn't help but write those stories. He had always known it was weird and impossible, and did his best to keep it secrect, keep it safe. He never expected Emily to find out, much less make it a reality and actually shrink him. And now...

Here he was, pinched between Emily's fingers, raised high above her dazzling body!
Tim saw the slow-motion curl of her tongue slipping out to lick her parted lips with anticipation... felt her hot breath caress his skin in warm waves of lust and longing. Every detail was stunningly real and Tim was dumbstruck by the sheer magnitude of the experience. There she was, right in front of him, immense eyes alight with desire, supple lips slightly parted while the smooth pink beast of her tongue slid deliberately back and forth over a slimy surface. Behind him, far away, Tim heard the rustle in the sheets picking up speed. Emily's mouth sprang wide open, revealing the full glory of her waiting, eager throat! 

Her eyes closed as her free hand began to lower him down.  

Tim saw his darkest dream unfolding beneath him and couldn't help but scream. 
 

Screaming, Tim was lowered into Emily’s gapping maw!

Time did not slow down as it does in stories. The details slipped right by him in a whirlwind flash.  Her sweet lips and eager tongue caressed, loved, and enveloped him. Her hot, sickly-sweet breath hit him like a gentle wall, overwhelming his senses with a manic panic to survive. This was true nature! It happened fast.  He was being eaten, and he couldn’t even bring himself to appreciate it!

 Tim’s scream cut short as Emily’s squishy tongue received his pathetic form. He was flailing and thrashing his best, but her firm finger pressed him possessively down into the strong, soggy muscle that happily lapped him up. His mouth and nose became instantly filled with saliva, clogging his airways, forcing him to shudder and gasp. It tasted like a dangerous kiss. Her tongue drew him in, and her supple lips snapped closed faster than he could blink. The intense heat of her almighty mouth enveloped his body as saliva mixed with his own nervous sweat.  Emily was sucking on him, rolling him around with complete control. He was a helpless little morsel doomed to be swallowed. Tim slid between tongue, cheek, and pallet: dragged occasionally across the edges of her deadly teeth.

“Please, God, don’t let her chew me! Not like that… don’t let me die like that!”

Even in his state of abject panic Tim’s lizard-brain knew he was moments away from his impossible dream and couldn’t bear the possibility that she might turn cruel and slice him to ribbons. Crunching, ripping, tearing teeth were never part of his fantasies; it seemed an excruciatingly painful and meaningless way to die. He wanted warmth, shelter and a sense of belonging, not the sadistic crushing of bone and flesh. If he had to die (and it seemed likely) he would rather die knowing exactly how it feels to be gulped down a tight, eager throat.  At least he would finally get the experience of squeezing down into the stomach of the girl he truly loved. He had the chance to satisfy her hunger, and his curiosity.

Despite himself, Helpless Little Morsel had a raging hard-on.

The rustling in the sheets jumped tempo as predator braced to conquer prey. Emily’s face scrunched in a way Tim would have found utterly adorable. Her legs jerked sporadically as passion and anticipation raced towards climax. She rolled her tongue around his soft, quivering body.  She thought of his stories and thrilled at every fluttery struggle. She’d spent her whole life swallowing food without a care, why would this be any different?

“MMMMM! Tim! Thish ish amashing!!!”

Her mouth was full of Tim and he bounced around haphazardly as her tongue moved up and down to form awkward syllables. She felt him fly backwards and land at the very edge of her throat. His flailing limbs were like an intense, living tickle. She gasped in absolute pleasure as her back arched and her fingers plunged towards ecstasy. It took everything she had not to just swallow him right then at the peak of an interstellar orgasm. With a slight gag and a quick roll of the tongue she brought him back up, pinning him against her palette as her entire body spasmed in uncontrollable bliss. Emily’s entire soul was on fire, for she finally understood the true meaning of power and desire. She was his goddess, his queen, he was a helpless mousey and she the fierce, conquering kitty! “Kitty always gets what she wants.” was one of her favorite lines from his writings.  The stories had come full-circle, she had become the apex predator of Tim’s deepest desires and Tim had no one to blame but himself.  As her orgasm crashed and broke, her breath grew ragged, wild… her rhythm peaked and then slowed. The trembling of her limbs gradually subsided. With a few final strokes and an aching sigh Emily collapsed into her soft bed, head swimming, vision blurred… delirious from the sheer power of it all.

She thought for a moment that she had over-done it. She had squeezed her poor boyfriend too tight in her frenzy, and now he was limp and unmoving, utterly still on the cusp of her tongue. It didn’t matter much to her, but she loved Tim and felt a weird pang of sudden guilt.

“I crushed him.” She thought.

“I set out to give him what he wanted most in the world, and I crushed him before he could even get it… Oh Tim, I’m sorr-“

A weak movement caught her attention, and a few seconds later he moved again. Emily smiled a most wicked smile as she felt her poor boyfriend’s pathetic, frail struggles. He was alive, and conscious, and now was the time. Emily closed her eyes and tilted her head back slowly. Her entire body was bathed in the electric afterglow of the most incredible orgasm of her life: satisfied in all ways but one. She felt righteous, and supreme. Queenly.

Tim was bruised and exhausted, gasping raggedly for breath, and covered head to toe in a disgusting mixture of spit, sweat, tears, and his own shameful semen. He couldn’t help it, Emily  rocked his fucking world. He felt the gentle tilting of her head and the surface of her tongue grew steeper. He started to slide, and he knew for certain that it was inevitable. Now was the time. For just a brief moment time did stand still like it does in the stories and Tim, exhausted, conquered and doomed remembered a comment he read on an old forum, long ages ago when he had just begun to explore his fantasy…

“Once you’re about to go down it doesn’t really matter what you think, does it?”

“No, I guess it doesn’t” Tim muttered.

 Somewhere deep inside his brain a voice told him to just enjoy it, let go and surrender. This is what he always wanted and Emily (sweet, beautiful, kind Emily!) was giving it to him. He loved her all the more for that. In blissful surrender he lay still and slid to the precipice of his glorious destiny, resigned to his fate and determined to enjoy every last second of his impossible dream…

“Of all the girls I’ve ever dreamed of… I’m glad it’s Emily.”

~GULP!!!~

Emily's tongue curled around him, forcing him back with graceful authority. He slid deeper than her lowest moan... there was a moment just before it happened when everything went still.

Tim was Schrodinger's Mouse: neither in her throat, nor out of it. Will she? Won't she? There's no way of knowing. 

Being in a mouth doesn't mean you're food. Maybe you'll get out. Emily loved him after all! This was an amazing game on her part, the ultimate tease! He wrote plenty of stories where she pulled him out at the last moment and laughed right in his terrified, slobbery face...

Emily read those stories over and over. They always ended with her gulping him down anyway.  It's what he truely wants. Swallowing is a deliberate act; the predator chooses to conquer its prey. The rest of the process is involuntary and doesn't require action or thought, but swallowing is a moment of choice in which one mind dominates another in the ultimate way.

Emily read enough to understand that simply being in a mouth doesn't make you food: getting swallowed does. 

Tim always wondered about being swallowed. How would it feel? Emily answered that question in a heart-fluttering second.

She made her choice, gave him his wish, and ended the moment of stillness by gulping her boyfriend down like any other morsel that ever found itself sliding down her selfish and covetous throat.  She felt a massive surge of relief as he disappeared, knowing it was done and he'd always be with her in the best of ways.

She could feel him wriggling all the long way down and it tickled with a fierceness that set her fingers back to work.

Emily knew Tim loved it, feared it, and best of all, he had no choice! He was all the way inside of her and she loved herself for making that decision.The hand that lowered Tim to his sticky doom had nothing else to do, so it grabbed a pillow to grind furiously up and down her clit. Her back arched uncontrollably again and she screamed through a mouth that was no longer full of Tim. 

Emily was in absolute Goddess-mode, recently single, and determined to take herself to the highest peaks of pleasure!

For Tim, the sudden shift from rough muscular tongue to smooth enveloping throat was a nightmare come true. It was soft, warm and inevitable. Terrifying. Final. Irreversible.

This beautiful, crazy bitch actually did it! He was not prepared for the sheer claustrophobia that made him panic like the only sane lemming recently off the edge. 

The pulsating walls of her throat squeezed him impossibly tight, and no light pierced the darkness. He was surrounded on all sides by Emily as she conquered him completely. He couldn't breathe, nor see, nor scream, all he could do was hyperventilate and go down head-first as nature intended.

Ridge after ridge of unquestioning smooth muscle guided him gently, yet firmly down her sticky mouse-trap of destiny. There would be no way up from this. The digestive system is an ancient, primal god which demands sacrifice and accepts whatever's offered.  

This particular offering spasmed in terror, panic, and pleasure all the long way down. There was nothing he could do. Kitty always gets what she wants. His mind was throwing every red-flag, but his dick was loving every fucking second of this impossible experience... it felt sooooo good to finally slide down her throat. To be her food.

As the claustrophobia reached it's zenith he began to pass out. 

"This is it." he thought from some far-away place.

"Home. Warmth. Emily... Every creature alive is doing its best to avoid being eaten... and then there's me."

The very last ridge of unquestioning smooth muscle squeezed him tighter than he'd ever been squeezed.  He slipped straight out of warm claustrophobia and into a dank pit of raging fire.

"This Is where her food goes..."

~

When she felt Tim slip into her stomach Emily's eyes rolled back so far she could see her own spine.

She peaked again, rode it as long as she could, thrashed about on the bed, and came crashing back down to Earth in a state of delinquent delirium. She gasped for breath even as she howled for more!

One hand stayed strong on the pillow while the other slipped out and up, tracing the smooth curves of her incredible body. One energetic finger drew quick circles around her belly.

"...and now you're a part of me!"

Emily's legs trembled in spastic, jittery waves as she stretched on her bed. Electric lightning shot through her entire being.  Tim belonged to her! 

Satisfied and content, mind drifting dreamily...

Every few seconds, in irregular bursts she could feel him moving around inside her. It tickled a bit, and itched in a way that was irresistably good. A hand moved  down to feel for him beneath her soft skin.  A cute little burp escaped her mouth.

Emily savored the sheer sensation of satisfaction coarsing through her body. She hadn't expected the experience to be that powerful. How innocent she had been mere minutes ago tracing him with her finger, watching him sleep. Even up to the instant she swallowed him she doubted she could really do it.

 Ohhh but she did, and it was wonderful!

"Tim" a breathless whisper. Then again, stronger. "Tim!"

Emily opened her eyes and looked to where she could feel him fluttering. Her soft, peachy skin betrayed nothing of the deed she had done.

"I want you to know, and I mean this, eating you was the best idea you ever had! The way I felt! The power, the control! Feeling you, everything you are, I mean, were... at my mercy! Right before I swallowed I thought; you're a real person, someone I love, and I don't care!"

His squirming increased. She wondered if it was panic or bliss.

"I hope it was everything you dreamed of Tim, I really do. You wanted it so bad, I couldn't help myself. I heard you screaming on the way in, you didn't change your mind did you? No. You went down so easy you must of loved it!"

 From inside her stomach Tim could hear every word, but was in too much of a panic to listen. It was the claustrophobia that broke him. He'd spent  his life imagining this, but nothing could prepare him for just how trapped and helpless he felt in the tight, inescapable darkness. There's no getting out. There's no getting out. This is real. Fuck.

The heat was intolerable, he was boiling in his own sweat. The slimy walls around him contracted and relaxed lazily, causing him to slip as he fought to get a hold on something.

" It straight up reeks in here, my skin is on fire! There's nothing sexy about this, oh fuck, why? Let me out. Please, God, I know we're not on good terms..."

Not to go super-cynical in a vore story, but God has no place in a stomach. It's an inescapable temple of death and digestion. What falls in shall stay in. Say selah. 

Emily rocked and rolled with his every movement, bewildered by her own capacity to enjoy the last scramblings of a human life. Tim was down in her belly where he always wanted to be, fighting for his life and it meant nothing. He couldn't escape, would never be free: he was her food and that was final.

"Tim, I told you earlier that once you were down there I would tell you... ohhh!... would tell you your finest line of poetry -"

"The line that led me to eat you..."

Tim was absolutely terrified, and rock-fucking hard.

He knew he was trapped, and who had trapped him. He loved her for going all out with it. This was the end and Tim was glad it was Emily. Mouses are born to satisfy kitty's stomach, after all. Kitty always gets what she wants. 

Emily reached lazily over to her night-stand and pulled out a well-browsed notebook. One hand went back to her supple stomach, feeling for the fading bump that used to be her boyfriend, the other flipped through the pages with a well-practiced manner.

"There it is!" she said with glee.

"It's strange" she read.

"But when you think about it, not unnatural. Predator and prey are nature itself. Love is an endless struggle between the hunger to have, and the thirst to give. Why must it be a battle? Pure love is an act that satisfies both."

Tim was litterally being digested, and at the furthest edge of his mind, but he recognized those words as his own, and calmed down. He was food. Emily's food. As he always wanted to be... pure love is an act that satisfies both. 

"Are you ready for me to ruin it Tim?"

"I want to be with you" muttered Tim.

"I've read all your stories,  I know you hate when the pred lets the prey out buttt... I love you silly. I don't want to let you go. I'm going to spit you out of course!"

Tim's heart lept at the idea of surviving, getting out and having a kinky-ass girlfriend.

"Jusssst Kidding!" she purred. "I've read your stories, you never make it out. Be a good little snack for me and just give in. You're a wonderful author Tim, and an even better offering!"

Slowly, gently, she ripped out the page she read a thousand times. One hand slipped the noteboook back into the night-stand while the other crumpled the page into a ball. One hand slipped lower, dissapearing into the sheets, the other raised the paper ball up to her sweet, supple lips...

She swallowed it too.