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After a few nights of this, he awoke one night to a slight movement of her throat. Then he suddenly felt a tremendous movement which altered the angle of her throat, and then a huge movement which drew him deep down her throat and into the top of her stomach! Had she had a sudden change of heart and decided to imitate Miss Balfour’s actions with her shrunken boyfriends? Then suddenly everything turned upside down, and he slipped back into the bottom of her throat, and felt a massive heaving coughing pressure, taking him down further, until he reached her mouth, and found it wide open. He slid out along her tongue and onto the bedroom floor, to find that she was leaning over the side of the bed, with her head near the floor.

“I’m so sorry,” she said, “I partly woke up, when I felt the need to cough, but was not fully conscious enough to remember that you were in there until after I gagged and coughed and felt you falling down my throat.”

“It’s alright. You sure got me out with quick thinking.”

“We can’t count on that again. I’m sure Colleen would shrink someone else for me, if I did swallow you permanently, but they might not want to be shrunken, and I only want to be with you. I guess you’ll have to sleep on the outside of me from now on. I’ll miss having you in there, but you’ll still be right beside my cheek or on my neck.”

After days of exploring the house, he asked her to cut him a piece of fishing line.

“That’s a good idea. It will make it easier for you to climb things when I’m not home,” she said, and gave him a long piece.

He climbed onto the bed with it, while she was reading in another room after dinner, and formed a lasso of sorts, which was knotted such that the size of the loop could be altered, just by pulling on the appropriate part of the line. He slipped it under the pillow and waited until Frances came to join him in the bed. Then he asked her to turn her head away, as he wanted to surprise her.

She pivotted her head on the pillow, so he could only see her hair at the back. Then he pulled out the lasso end of the line, slipped it over his waist like a harness, and then asked her to turn her head back to facing the roof and lift him onto her chin.

She did so, and said, “What have you got there?”

“It’s a safety harness I made with the fishing line. I can put it on each night, just before I climb into your mouth, then tie the other end around one of your lower back teeth and lie in your throat for the night, with no risk of being swallowed, no matter what happens in there.”

“You’re a genius, Dollipop! I love you,” she said, and pressed her lips to his face.

“It might be easier going in with you in a sitting up position, so I can lie on the top end of your tongue beside your teeth, while I’m tying the line on, and the same for when I’m untying it in the morning. Then I can slid into your throat in the vertical position, supported by the harness, and you can lie down after that.”

“That’s all fine with me. Let’s try it now.”

After that, no abseiler ever had it so good.

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