This was not the first time that evening that Keshawn had crawled out of clothing that was orders of magnitude larger than his entire body. It was however, the first time he had done so from a pair of clothing that was not his own.

It had taken quite a struggle and good deal of work to claw free of the pocket in which he had been imprisoned for well over an hour. Fighting his way out of heavy denim that to his diminutive size, pressed down like broad, weighted blankets, he emerged into a brightly lit room. The man gasped appreciatively at the first fresh air he had breathed in an hour, before studying the world around him.

It transpired that he was in a bathroom. The surroundings, such as they were, were unremarkable save for one factor: their incredibly large scale. The toilet, the sink, the cross bar with pink hand towels hung neatly across it, all of them towered above him in enormous aspect. Beneath his feet, the blue jeans from which he’d just escaped lay crumpled and abandoned atop a soft, fluffy pink rug larger than a football field. Not far away, a similarly discarded white midriff t-shirt lay on cold white tiles, the words “Get in my belly,” emblazoned in red above a picture of full, feminine lips.

The egregious difference in size served to reenforce Keshawn’s predicament. Turning about, he was just in time to thoroughly enjoy a brief but captivating glimpse of the presumed owner of giant clothes, the bathroom, and by logical extension, any home to which the bathroom was subsequently attached.

The woman was standing before the shower, the curtain already drawn aside in anticipation of entering. As with Keshawn’s other surroundings, she too was of comparatively gigantic aspect. Her strawberry blonde hair was no longer held back in a ponytail, as it had been when he’d first made her acquaintance earlier that evening. Now it was worn down and hung a little past her shoulders in a casual style. Her skin, devoid of clothing and remarkably pale in the buzzing bathroom florescent, was on extravagant display. A single glance at the back of this colossally sized hourglass figure would have been enough to convince Francois Barois to abandon his recreation of the Venus Cillipygian, a comparatively old maid of only middling appearance, in favor of attempting to capture the animate perfection of this far superior organic model.

With a show of deliberate caution, a hand was tentatively extended into a stream of water emanating from the shower head, in order to gauge the suitability of the water temperature. Judging it to be acceptable, the woman stepped over the lip of the tub, pulled the shower curtain behind her, and was lost from view.

Keshawn simply stood amongst the discarded clothes and stared at the woman’s form, now only fuzzily visible through the semi-transparent shower curtain. For a few prolonged seconds, his mind struggled to catch up to the present moment, still processing the gloriously beautiful and naked form of the woman in the shower. He had seen her bottom clad in jeans back at the restaurant. There, tightly encased in the very denim from which he’d just escaped, she had appeared to possess what possibly had been the most beautiful bottom that it had ever been Keshawn’s pleasure to observe.

Here in the bathroom, the sight of her naked glory had removed any doubt. Unable to move, unable to think, Keshawn was not equal to processing the least of thoughts, save for drinking in the picture of a pair of sculpted feminine buttocks that were unparalleled in their salacious magnificence. In his twenty-nine years of life, he had never seen anyone else who even came close in comparison.

Pulse thudding in his ears… and quite noticeably in other far more pleasant places, the suddenly tumescent Keshawn simply continued to study the hazy human shape behind the semi-translucent curtain. He focused, as if enough concentration might bring about another glimpse of the unearthly beauty whose body was tantalizingly obscured. The blurry image was just sharp enough to hint and bewitching curves, keeping the tiny man rooted in place.

It was appropriately ironic that at this moment steam began to rise from behind the curtain.

Keshawn’s thoughts were scattered about the woman. The beautiful woman, with the gorgeous figure. With an ass that had to be seen to be believed. The woman who, not more than an hour ago, had eaten three other people the same size as Keshawn. That woman had Keshawn in her home, in her bathroom. And she would eat him too. If she found him.

The temporary reaction of concupiscence swiftly evaporated as the shrunken man sobered to the bleak outlook of his current circumstances. The predominant factor was this; he was trapped in the bathroom of what amounted to a man-eating giantess. The single point that she was in fact normal-sized and it was he who was of unusually small size seemed essentially immaterial, as such distinctions would make no difference in the final outcome of their relationship.

The sensible thing to do of course was flee. He could try to run away, perhaps hide somewhere within the house. If she had roommates then he might find them and beg for assistance, relying upon their sense of humanity to aide him.

No, that notion was less appealing. There was no guarantee that any roommate he encountered would not consider Keshawn as much of a snack as this beautiful woman. Or even return him to her. But if he were to escape the home entirely…

That lead to a number of other variables. If he left this house, could he attract the attention of a passing man or woman? It was possible that he could eventually. But it would mean risking being stepped on by some unaware person with their nose on their cell phone. There was also the likely odds of being cornered by a cat or a dog, or even attacked by a bird. Or any other number of dangers. Even insects might pose a serious danger at his new size.

And yet, all these perils came in ahead of the one sure certainty of remaining where he was. If he continued to stand in the bathroom and gaze through the shower curtain, he would certainly, absolutely, unquestionably be eaten. And likely sooner rather than later. A brief and altogether fresh memory of the beautiful woman devouring three people flashed through his mind. Once that memory would have excited him, but now he found it appalling, not to mention terrifying.

Behind the shower curtain, the water shut off, pattering to a fast dribble, then dying to nothing.

The sound of the shower concluding was like the firing of the starting gun of a race. With a sudden flood of adrenaline, Keshawn fled for the far door. It wasn’t easy going. He first had high step across the denim jeans, then across the rug where his feet sank into the decidedly soft pink expanse. Finally making to firm tiles, he raced as fast as his legs could carry him. Before him loomed the door, large enough to allow the passage of some mighty behemoth.

Skidding up short of the doorway, he dropped to hands and knees, gauging the space between the tiles and the door. There wasn’t much room. In fact, the gap between door and floor was so narrow that there was less relative room to his size here than between Keshawn’s bed and his floor back at his own home.

But there was no other option than to think slender thoughts and try to muscularly force his way through. Any escape hinged on his leaving the bathroom unseen. A swift glance about the bathroom reassured the terrified man that few options presented themselves for simply hiding and hoping to remain out of sight when the woman exited the shower. The most inconspicuous area to suggest itself for hiding was just beneath the sink, but the whitewashed skirting board was hardly a refuge. He would be left completely out in the open hiding behind nothing more than hopes of going unnoticed. It was unlikely that the woman would overlook him. Keshawn’s dark skin would mean that he would stand out like a sore thumb against the white baseboard.

That left squeezing beneath the bathroom door as the only other option. Dutifully, he began to wedge himself beneath the titanic door, turning his head sideways and trying to press himself as close to the floor as was possible.

He ran into trouble almost at once, his hip being too high to pass beneath the edge of the door. Rocking his hip to one side, he tried to move beneath it. This initially proved a successful method of locomotion, but soon became problematic when his frantic scrambling was arrested and his body caught fast.

In a sudden panic, he attempted to extract himself. This too, proved impossible.

A sudden hiss of the shower curtain being drawn aside sounded loudly in the humid bathroom. Keshawn turned towards the sound in time to observe the jaw-droppingly beautiful woman step over the bathtub once more, this time moving towards him, and this time with a large green towel wrapped around herself. Lips pursed, she whistled a low jaunty tune which Keshawn felt was somehow familiar, though in his frantic state of mind its title eluded him.

Stooping to collect the clothes on the floor, the giantess gathered them up in an untidy bundle. Tossing her wet hair behind her with a shake of her head, she took several steps towards the doorway.

“WAIT!”

The words were out of Keshawn’s mouth before he could think to stop them. Had she opened the door, he would have been dragged across the tiled floor and crushed between the two. It would be no different than diving in front of a tractor trailer on the highway.

The acoustics of the washroom were quite good. The recent introduction of a heavy amount of moisture into the air from the shower only served to enhance the audility of a panicked scream from a terrified shrunken man stuck beneath the bathroom door.

The startled woman’s hand paused, at rest on the doorknob. She turned toward her own feet. Her gaze fell to the man lying on his back, stuck half underneath her bathroom door and clearly unhappy about it.

“Well, well,” said Lindsay, her mouth quirking up in bemusement. “Did you get yourself into a jam?”

***

Keshawn had first met Lindsay three hours earlier. She had been one of the waitresses serving a Christmas party. A dozen or so women from a local business had decided to go out for shrinkies, and each one had ordered a tiny man. Keshawn had been at the Forbidden Dish at the time, and as he was wearing a prey braclet, was asked by a garishly dressed staff member if he would like to be eaten by a member of the business party. As the group was made up entirely of attractive young women, Keshawn hand wasted no time in volunteering to be shrunk and served to the group.

A half hour later he had found himself on the plate of a young, attractive woman. She had dark brown hair, and soft brown eyes. She looked kindly at Keshawn, but jumped when he told her hello.

“You can talk?” she’d asked, leaning back in her chair as if to escape him. The poor girl had been ignorant to the most famous attraction to the Forbidden Dish and was clearly unsettled upon its discovery.

“Well of course,” the tiny mand had replied in as friendly a tone as he could. “I’m Keshawn.”

“Jane,” the girl had replied, the answer coming automatically.

“And you’re a businessperson, Jane?”

Jane had nodded. “Y-yes. I work in accounting.”

“How nice. Definitely a lucrative job.”

Jane’s eyes darted from side to side, as if afraid to look at Keshawn for more than a second. “I guess? I mean I just graduated a year ago. I’m still new to the business world and I have a mountain of student loans.”

“Gosh I felt the same when I first started out,” Keshawn replied. “I was in business also, though I was a salesmen. Don’t worry. Everyone graduates with a pile of debt. Just pay them off a little at a time.”

Jane was nodding, though her lips were thin, her eyes restive. She looked nervously to the girl sitting on her left. That woman held a tiny man before her lips and was talking in a low, seductive tone. Jane looked over to her right. A pretty girl with black skin held a tiny man before her.

“I don’t want to be eaten. Please. You have to believe me,” said the tiny man.

“I do believe you,” The black girl replied, before forcing the man into her mouth. Jane blinked, jerking away from her friend as if appalled she was capable of such an atrocity. She watched as the woman clearly savored the taste of the tiny man, then swallowed. Jane winced, turning back to the girl on the left. That woman was slurping the last of her tiny into her mouth, clearly enjoying the experience.

“Candace, I don’t think yours wanted to be eaten,” Jane said to the black girl.

“I know,” Candace nodded, picking up a glass of red wine. “But you can eat them anyway.” She eyed Keshawn speculatively.

“I-I don’t think I can eat you,” Jane confessed to Keshawn under her breath. “I’m sorry.”

“Well, It’s okay. You can give me to-” Keshawn had been about to point to the black girl on Jane’s right, when a server appeared and asked how everyone was.

“Can I send this one back?” Jane asked quickly. “I don’t think I want to eat someone after all.”

“Of course. I’ll take him.”

Keshawn was passed to someone else. As he was carried off, he heard the black girl say, “Jane, why did you return that one? Mable or I would have eaten yours.”

The waitress who had collected him was different than the one who had originally shrunk Keshawn and brought him to the businesswomen’s table. That first waitress had been pretty, if a bit garish in her choice of dress. That woman, whose nametag had read “Adela,” had alternating shades of pink and black dyed into her hair, pink eye liner, and pink lipstick, all topped off with a pink belly shirt, pink booty shorts, sparkly pink calf high stockings and pink hightops. That woman had come and gone, here and there as she waited on the table. After serving shrinkies she occasionally brought the group drinks and other appetizers. But given the volume of people that the table, she was eventually joined by another waitress. This new one was the person to whom Keshawn and the three unwilling people were given.

This new waitress was a little bit older, perhaps nearing forty, but with a much more normalized sense of style, and physically more beautiful by incalculable orders of magnitude. Her face was stunningly pretty. Her hair, a color somewhere between red and blonde, was pulled back in a practical ponytail. On her shirt was a nametag that read “Lindsay,” under the words “Manager.” As it happened, she had collected the three men from the same table who had changed their mind. Lindsay had cleared them away and called to the girl with the pink hair to bring them three replacement shrinkies.

“On it, boss,” the pink haired girl called back.

“Thanks Adela. Once that party is finished, it’ll be time to begin closing up. Night’s almost over.”

Lindsay whisked away Keshawn and the three people who had changed their minds, carrying them all to a nearby room. Inside the atmosphere was it was low lighting, private, and romantic. Smoky music bereft of a vocal accompaniment played from unseen speakers.

Keshawn was placed on a long table, its edges inaccessible due to a high glass wall that ran along its edges. The glass was twice as tall as a shrunken man. Keshawn found the barrier thing quite peculiar but gave it little thought. Beside him were placed the three men who had withdrawn their permission to be eaten. All four of the tiny men were arrayed in a line, all facing their enormous and beautiful caretaker, all naked save for some dignity-preserving red underwear.

“Hello everyone,” Lindsay greeted them for the first time. “I understand that three out of four of you decided to change your minds about being eaten.”

“That’s right,” one man stepped forward. “If we can be returned to our original size at once that would be preferable. How long do you think it will take until the shrink booth will be available for us to be put back to normal?”

“Oh, I wouldn’t worry about that, my yummy little friend. What’s your name? Bernard? Nice to meet you, Bernard. Like I was saying,” Lindsay picked up the threads of her though like a cat pulling on the tail of a mouse. “You don’t need to concern yourself with being regrown. Because I am going to eat you instead.”

There was a general clamor from the three men. Belligerent cries of “You can’t!” and “Unconscionable!” were bellowed from the diminutive but indignant men.

“Can’t I?” asked Lindsay, eyes flashing like a hanging judge who’s sentence was called into question. “You signed a waiver. You’re officially food. I can legally eat you because you’re not really classified as people, you’re just someone else’s leftovers. Remember guys, at some point you all wanted this. My advice is to get in touch with those feeling once more, because I am about to eat every single one of you. Starting with Bernard.”

So saying, she reached down and grabbed a clearly stunned Bernard. The man cried out in shock and indignation as he was lifted to Lindsay’s face. “Put me down!” He cried.

“Say goodbye to your little friends,” Lindsay answered, indicating the three men still on the table. “Of course, you won’t be parted for long. You’ll all soon be together again. In here. In my belly.” To underscore her point, she held him before her stomach, dangling the squirming man against it.

“Let me go you… you cannibalistic monster,” Bernard cried out angrily.

Lindsay simply laughed, then raised the tiny man high above her head. Tilting her head back she opened her mouth wide. To Bernard, who stared down at the open mouth, the sight was indeed amative, after all, he was a voraphile. The sight of Lindsay’s feminine lips parting to reveal her mouth was incredibly stimulating. This picture was framed by the unmatched beauty of her face. Her ample breasts heaved visibly as she took a deep breath, beginning to lower Bernard slowly towards her mouth.

And yet, despite his vorephilic desires, the beautiful and enticing circumstances were just as macabre and bone-chilling. This was not a fantasy any longer. Lindsay truly meant to eat him. As Bernard had had occasion to realized back at the party of businesswomen, being would result in his death. It was why he had backed out at the last minute.

“No. You can’t! You can’t do this. Stop. Help! Someone help!” Bernard’s cries echoed weakly in so vast a room as he kicked his legs in empty air just above Lindsay’s open maw.

Lindsay grinned and began to lower him more slowly so as to draw out the experience for them both. Bernard’s protestations devolved, reduced to a continuous, wordless scream.

It would have been the most erotic thing that Keshawn had ever seen in his life, but for Bernard’s unwillingness. His cries of terror turned an otherwise stimulating sight into one of terror, as if he were feeling panicked on Bernard’s behalf. But he could only watch as Lindsay extended her tongue, batting Bernard about with it. Then she dropped him into her mouth. Crouching down, mouth closed, she took stock of the three men on the table.

Unlike Keshawn, the other two unwilling men on the table had not stood idly to watch Lindsay devour Bernard, but had run off to the far corner of the table. The first man was attempting to boost the second to the point where he could reach the lip of the glass wall that ran the corners of the coffee table. The man had even managed to curl his fingers around the top of that barrier, kicking his feet in anguish against the frictionless glass in an attempt to further surmount the fence. Given enough time, he would likely have made it.

Lindsay walked around the table so that by crouching down, she was at eye level with the would-be escapees. Leaning in, the beautiful waitress positioned her lips directly before them, on the opposite side of the glass wall. Were there not a barrier between them, the two men would have been close enough to touch Lindsay’s lips.

With clear, gloating malevolence, Lindsay opened her mouth wide to display its despairing captive. Bernard lay splayed out across her tongue. He looked out his face bookended top and bottom between Lindsay’s full, soft lips. The poor man’s face was red with emotion, eyes wet from tears, body wracked with convulsions with each anguished sob.

Seeing the two men at the glass wall, nearly close enough to touch, Bernard reached out a hand in feeble attempt at rescue. As if to help him, but clearly simply to further exasperate and taunt her snack, Lindsay’s tongue moved outwards and carried Bernard along with it. The pink muscle pressed against the glass, pinning Bernard between the two. He stared in horror through the glass at the other two men just on the other side.

“H-hel-ll-pp!”

One of the two men put a shaking hand against the glass right in front of Bernard’s chest. It was a gesture meant to give comfort, but all it succeeded in doing was tantalizing Bernard with further hope of rescue. He squirmed, his expression bespeaking the most tormented mental anguish. Behind and around the shrunken man was the enormous tongue. It moved subtly as Lindsay licked both transparent barrier and shrunken man, leaving streaks of spittle on the glass.

Even from where Keshawn stood watching the unfolding drama, he heard the doomed Bernard beseech their help. The man no longer shouted. This was the wail of someone who had lost all hope, a jittering, heart-wrenching, sobbing plea. So terrified and upset that he could barely speak, Bernard’s breath came erratically; in and out in fitful starts that left it impossible for him to cry out or speak steadily. Thus, his one-word supplication was unevenly broken, segmented by numerous, forceful inhalations.

To his credit, the man at the top of the glass wall seemed to be trying to help. Though he lacked the athleticism to pull himself to the top of the wall, he certainly seemed intent on doing so. Such a vantage point would have afforded him a chance to reach out and offer a hand to the stricken Bernard. Yet the man did not have an athletic build and such feats as a preforming a simple pullup lay beyond him. He was therefore left left staring at Bernard, framed by a pink tongue pressing against the far side of the glass. Beneath him, the man who had helped hoist him stared at the same thing.

They could only watch as Lindsay’s tongue pressed all the harder, eliciting a pained whimper from Bernard. He was now being smushed painfully hard against the clear glass as the tongue behind him rubbed up and down, her taste buds delighting in his flavor. In stark contrast, Lindsay’s expression was one of horrible, sensual enjoyment. The waitress seemed to be enjoying herself mightily. Then the tongue seemed to curl around Bernard, pulling him back into that feminine mouth.

Lying on the tongue, Bernard sat up, looking out the mouth. “Pl-ll-lee-sss!” he cried. That was the last anyone ever saw of him. Lindsay’s tongue curled upwards, flipping Bernard towards her throat as her mouth closed in a smile. The woman seemed to take a moment to position him, then swallowed, making sure her throat was directly before the shrunken men so they might appreciate the view of a bulge being forced down her gullet in a presage of their own fates.

“Ah,” Lindsay sighed. “That was good. Who would like to go next? How about you?” She indicated the man gripping the top of the glass wall. “You seemed so eager to help Bernard. Or were your just impatient to go into my belly? Poor dear. Let’s send you after him.”

Perhaps through an inability to relinquish his hard-won position, perhaps simply through being frozen by fear after the transpiring’s of the last minute, and perhaps through some forlorn hope that he could still escape, the fellow remained where he was, clinging to the edge of the glass wall. Further efforts to surmount the obstacle had ceased, his brain taken up with simply staring in disbelief at Lindsay. Perhaps he was simply unable to process what had just happened to Bernard. Perhaps he was hoping to be the benefactor of some belated mercy that might, against all odds, be bestowed by their captor at the last moment.

Lindsay simultaneously disabused him of the notions of escape and mercy by leaning in closely and pressing full, puckered lips to the glass in a slow, sensual kiss. Pulling back, she regarded him with the most coquettish expression to which he had ever been the recipient. Then the hand that had so easily held Bernard reached over the wall and caught hold of the man. Bringing him to the top of the wall, she opened her mouth, her tongue reaching out to meet him.

“No!” cried the man, craning his head and neck away from the searching tip of the tongue. Held by Lindsay’s grip, he was brought forward. The tongue pressed hungrily against the front of his body, Lindsay’s fingers pushing firmly against his back to ensure he could neither fall, nor crawl to an escape.

Then her tongue pulled the crying, flailing man into her mouth. Visibly rolling him about so that first one then the other cheek bulged, she winked at the two terrified men remaining before her. Occasionally she would open her mouth enough to allow the two men to hear the cries of the doomed fellow on her tongue. This behavor continued for more than a minute, to the point that Keshawn simply was ready for her to end it all. As if feeling similarly, Lindsay finally tossed her head and gulped him down.

“Oh that was good. He tasted delicious. I think I’ll eat just one more of you before I go back to work. But who? Which one of you wants to be in my belly?” Her eyes moved from one man to the other. “Eeny, meeny, miny moe, catch a tiger by the toe…”

She continued the schoolyard singsong. Keshawn was too shocked from the goings on of the last few minutes to react. But the last unwilling man moved, running as Lindsay pointed to him, uttering the terrifying final pronunciation of the rhyme, “moe.”

The man was already running to the far corner of the table, trying to distance himself from Lindsay. She looked at him fondly, almost like a schoolteacher might look at a young child who had attempted a phonetic spelling of the word, “Pharaoh.”

Leaning over the table, she gently picked up the man. Then she brough him towards Keshawn. “Say goodbye. He’s the last friendly face you’ll ever see.”

The man’s eyes were wide with neurotic fear. Clearly in shock, he looked up at Lindsay as she brought him before her mouth.

“Don’t look so glum. You’re my delicious little treat, and you’re going to be eaten by me. It ought to be an honor. Frankly, I’m insulted you do feel more eager. You’ll be in my belly soon, just like you always wanted.” Lindsay informed him. “Now in you go like a good boy. And tell your predecessors how delicious they were. They’re both nice and squirmy. I hope you will be too.”

The man didn’t cry out as Lindsay opened her mouth, slurping him in. Her blue eyes closed with obvious pleasure, one hand reaching to caress her bare stomach.

Lindsay swallowed. A slight tensing of her neck muscles followed.

“Oh, they * UURP* were good,” Lindsay said with obvious relish, her eyes fluttering open and focused on the middle distance. She seemed to be half talking to herself. Glancing around she became more aware of her surroundings, finally remember that she was not alone. The gorgeous waitress cocked her hip to one side with a dramatic flourish clearly for the benefit of Keshawn.

Reaching out a hand to a nearby drawer, she pulled it open and extracted something from within. At first, Keshawn thought it was some type of three-ended rope, but on closer inspection, he saw that Lindsay was fitting two earpieces it into her ears while a third end dangled down her chest. With surprise, he recognized the object as a stethoscope. Lindsay smiled at Keshawn, then pressed a finger to her lips. “Shh, I wanna listen in,” she whispered. Taking the bell of the stethoscope in hand, she pressed it to her stomach.

“Oh,” she jumped. “Cold.” Bringing the diaphragm of the instrument to her lips, she breathed on it, then reapplied it to her abdomen, a little below her breasts.

For a moment, she moved the bell of the stethoscope about, as if searching for the exact right place. It wasn’t hard to tell when she found it, for after a moment she paused, her face breaking into a broad smile. She held the head of the stethoscope there, clearly trying to stifle her laughter. And there she remained for several long moments.

Then she seemed to remember Keshawn once more. Sitting down in a nearby chair, she picked him up and placed him on her belly. “I don’t have smaller stethoscopes, but if you press your ear to my stomach, maybe you could listen. They’re squirmy and shouty.” She spoke like a child who won a coveted prize toy in a fair.

Lindsay applied the stethoscope to her stomach once more, immense pleased by the experience. Horrified, but unable to resist his curiosity, Keshawn pressed one ear to Lindsay’s stomach.

Her belly was warm, pleasantly muscled, and had little fat. He could faintly hear the muffled shouts of men from within. Their words were indistinct, but Keshawn recognized their voices. Not to mention the distress in their tone.

This was madness! Lindsay was not only savoring their squirms of pain, but she was also drinking in their cries like a devil in Tartarus!

Just then an enormous finger gently caressed Keshawn’s back, making the man jump.

“I really do need to get back to work,” the light susurration of Lindsay soft words were a jarring contrast to the cries from the three men within her stomach. “But I also want something to look forward to at the end of the evening. Be patient until then?” She spoke as if it were a disappointment to Keshawn that he wouldn’t be joining them at once. If anything, the last few moments had shown Keshawn that the last thing he wanted was to be consumed by Lindsay.

The giantess stood up, setting her stethoscope back in the drawer, Keshawn’s tiny form held gently in her other hand. She stretched, then brought Keshawn to her face. He was surprised to see a quite friendly expression on her beautiful features.

“I wanted to save one of you for a treat at the end of the night. You weren’t eaten because you didn’t ask to be restored in size, so you will likely put up less of a fuss and not try to escape,” Lindsay explained. She checked her watch, not waiting for Keshawn to respond. “We’re almost ready to go home for the *hic* night. If you can just be patient while I close the *hic* restaurant, it’ll give me a chance to digest so I can eat you before going *hic* home.” She pressed a hand to her stomach. This time instead of pleasure, her continence wore an expression of marked discontent. “What the *hic* fuck. Those *hic* guys gave me the *hic* hiccups.”

Still too shocked from recent events to manage a reply, Keshawn simply looked up at Lindsay, expecting some manner of trick.

“I never should have taken one of the antacids. Another employee named Olivia gave me them. They’re designed to make the shrinkies squirm longer but she warned me this *hic* might happen. Anyway, you’re going in my pocket until I eat you,” Lindsay informed Keshawn. “Prefer the front or the back?”

Still drained of reason, Keshawn said nothing.

Lindsay chuckled. “I’ll pick for you. And I bet I know which *hic* would be more fun. Back it is then.” She blew him a kiss. “Be patient, little guy. Your *hic* time will come.”

The diminutive man, thoroughly the captive of the buxom lady cannibal, brought him to her posterior. A beautifully proportioned and curved bottom encased in tight jeans came into view. An instant later Keshawn was slipped between two heavy and tightly stretched pieces of denim.

While it might have been an appealing place to ride, Keshawn felt little physical stimulus. He was still coming to terms with the fact that the three people who had been standing beside him a moment ago were gone, inside Lindsay. All despite their urgent pleas for mercy. What kind of monster could do that to another person?

Sadly for him, it was the same monster who held him prisoner, and was gently tucking him into her back pocket. The concept of his entire body being pressed against such a gorgeous derrière might have been a delightful one, though it was entirely overshadowed by the initial relief of not currently being inside her stomach.

He briefly considered telling Lindsay he had changed his mind about being eaten. But in the next moment, he abandoned the idea entirely. Lindsay seemed to take such a confession as more of a personal slight, or perhaps an invitation for her to engage in some partisan fun.

Which brought him back to his circumstance, pressed tightly against an admittedly shapely derrière. Even if Keshawn were in the state of mind to appreciate being pressed against such desirous location, any initial physical sensations of pleasantness would have rapidly evaporated. It was incredibly tight in the denim pocket, so much so that the tiny man realized that he could hardly move at all. Repositioning a limb was a near impossibility, let alone any attempt to escape. He wanted to escape from Lindsay the first chance he got but realized the current impossibility of the task.

With a dizzying sway of motion, Lindsay suddenly began to walk. From that point on and through the next hour, Keshawn’s world was motion, nearly constant, abrupt, jerky, wobbly motion against a firm surface as he was repeatedly pressed between muscular warm flesh and tight denim. Keshawn had little sense of what was going on around him, or what Lindsay was doing. Occasional snippets of conversation could be heard over the music in the background. Every so often, he could clearly distinguish Lindsay’s voice as she spoke to others, though it was never easy to understand what she was saying.

All that was certain was Keshawn was as miserable as it was possible to be. Or perhaps almost as miserable. It was safe to say that his motion addled circumstances were still far better than Bernard and his two companions. They were currently being digested alive in the pit of Lindsay’s stomach.

***

It was a very bused and motion sick Keshawn that had crawled from Lindsay’s discarded trousers and onto her bathroom floor over an hour later. But over that time, wretched though it had been, the poor fellow had at least been afforded a chance to think. The images of Bernard and his friends being eaten were still fresh, the cries of their pleas for mercy to Lindsay seeming to echo in his ears. And over the course of that past hour, Keshawn had regularly wondered on the state of Bernard and the others. How long had those poor people remained conscious in Lindsay’s belly? How long had they lived? Lindsay had mentioned an antacid. Had that only prolonged their physical suffering and mental anguish?

Keshawn had come to the Forbidden Dish to be eaten, true. As a lifelong vore fan, he had wanted to be eaten for much of his life. He’d believed this to be true when he’d signed the paperwork to be shrunk, he’d thought so when he had been placed on a plate in front of a pretty woman at that business party earlier. He’d even still believed it so when the pretty businesswoman had sent him back and Lindsay had gathered him up to be resold.

But witnessing those poor men begging for mercy had changed his view on his circumstances. Or at least, it had changed his view on Lindsay, if not vore in general. When considered objectively, Keshawn realized that the idea of being eaten by a beautiful woman still held quite an appeal, at least in theory. But he recoiled at the eventuality of joining Bernard and the others in this admittedly beautiful but utterly cruel woman’s stomach. The idea of becoming food for such a terrible human being felt repugnant. She had no regard for anyone’s life other than her own. To that pompous, arrogant woman, everyone was a meal.

And Keshawn was next.

***

To Keshawn’s amazement, after Lindsay observed his position under the bathroom door, she had taken the utmost care not to cause undue harm while extracting him. Picking up the tiny man, she surprised him once again by displaying an astonishing degree of empathy.

“Oh my gosh dude, I am like, so sorry. I totally forgot about you. See I’ve been up for about eighteen hours now and all I was thinking about as I left work was taking a shower. If I’d remembered you I would have at least set you on the sink, maybe with some water. Then you wouldn’t have gotten caught in the…”

As her mind caught up with the stream of apologies, her words trickled to a stop. The blonde bombshell looked from her discarded pants on the rug to the closed bathroom door. She turned back to Keshawn and for all her stunning beauty there he detected a spark of anger, something cruel about her eyes. Her tone was suddenly bereft of anything the least bit penitent.

“You were stuck under the door. You were trying to escape, weren’t you?”

Keshawn shook his head in earnest, realizing that admitting to not wanting to be eaten was a terrible plan where Lindsay was concerned. She seemed to take such slights personally. “No. I was just disoriented. I was in your pants…” Here Keshawn felt it was in his best interests to be judicious with the truth, “which was an amazingly fun experience. If painfully tight and inducing a fair bit of dizziness.”

A trace of a smirk played about Lindsay’s lips. Her growing flame of ire began to cool. In its place a hint of mischief suddenly twinkled in her eyes. Nevertheless, her tone was level as she addressed her captive, curious rather than accusatory. For now.

“If you weren’t escaping, then what were you doing under my bathroom door?”

Keshawn thought quickly. “I, well. The thing is… You see…”

Lindsay raised an expectant eyebrow. Her expression suddenly became more forceful, giving the impression that if he didn’t offer a believable excuse soon, then she would likely revert to her original albeit correct theory; that he had been attempting to escape. And he knew he didn’t want her thinking that.

“Well, the fact is Lindsay, uh, that when you um, disrobed… And I, please don’t be angry, but when I climbed out of your pile of clothes. Well, I looked up and you were, um, getting into the shower. And I was afraid you would be upset since you weren’t wearing anything.”

The spark of mischief in Lindsay’s eyes seemed to flair to a full-blown pyre. She seemed to possess the ability to be cruel or coquettish, depending upon the disposition of her shrinkies towards being eaten. “Well, you’re quite the gentleman. How thoughtful. Such an especially well-mannered willing treat. Let’s just see if I can reward my snack for his respect for me.”

Carrying him from the bathroom and down a short hallway, Lindsay stepped into a small (a term relative to Lindsay’s size rather than Keshawn’s) but tidy bedroom. The double bed was made with blue covers and matching pillowcases. A small dresser squatted in the corner. A nightstand had a lamp and several books that looked like supernatural mysteries and science fiction. All of it was all kept in fastidious order. One wall held a door on which a full-length mirror hung, presumably a closet.

Lindsay traversed the room to a hamper and deposited her clothes into it. Then with a cheerful sense of fun, she tossed Keshawn into midair.

To Keshawn, the world around him spun in a kaleidoscope. Unable to tell which way was up, his landing was jarring, though admittedly much softer than he had anticipated.

Sitting up, he found himself in a vast expanse of blue. Lindsay had tossed him onto the bed. Looking about, he saw that Lindsay stood before him, hanging her bath towel across the rim of an empty hamper. She was naked and stunning in her beauty. Her prominent and beautiful bottom was on display, this time directly in front of him and with the full knowledge of its owner. Turning to face him, he saw her give him a roguish wink. He let his eyes move to her ample bosoms, a trim stomach, an absolutely killer figure.

“Told you I reward my willing little ones. Not too immodest for you, is it little guy?”

Keshawn could only stare at the sight. “Ohhhh wow.”

“Gad you like it,” Lindsay laughed.

“Lindsay…”

“Mmm?”

“You might think I’m exaggerating, but you are the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.” This was not an idle compliment. Keshawn truly had never seen anyone as pretty as she.

“Well thanks, tasty. I do get that a lot actually.”

“Your whole body is just... It’s incredible. Especially your ass.”

Lindsay’s eyes widened as she gave enthusiastic agreement. “Right? You an ass guy?” With a roll of her hips Lindsay turned to afford Keshawn a better view. She cocked her hips once more, then bounced on her heels.

“Implants?”

Lindsay turned back around. “No implants. Just genetics that give me a serious edge. Always had a pretty nice backside. And a lot of hard work at the gym. Well, that and shrinkies. The high protein diet helps me keep strong. You little guys do adore a bottom.” She angled her back towards him once more. “Excited? Tomorrow you might just be part of my ass.”

“Well, you look great,” Kashawn said, in all honesty.

Lindsay laughed, pulling on a pair of pajamas. They were loose fitting, with images of little cartoon tigers on the material. “Glad you liked me without any clothes on, but I’m not going to stay that way. It’s pajama time. Day’s over and I am not trying to impress anyone.”

“I think you look stylish. I’m sure anyone else would agree.” This much was true. While not exactly stylish, Lindsay was attractive enough that she made just about anything she wore look good.

The beautiful woman laughed. It was a warm, gentle sound that put Keshawn at ease. Her behavior was so at odds with how she’d treated the unwilling men an hour ago. In fact the pretty woman seemed so distant from that cruel and maniacal woman that it was hard to remember that she was the same person.

The giantess smiled down at her captive, pleased with the compliment. “The only other guys who I brought back to the apartment with us are beyond agreeing.”

“Do you bring shrinkies back to the apartment often?” Keshawn wanted to know.

“No, you misunderstand,” she replied. She opened the closet, and retrieved a t shirt with a batman symbol on the front. She pulled it on, then lifted up the portion that otherwise might have covered her stomach. “The only tiny guys I bring home are already inside my belly, being digested. The one’s from tonight are a little too far gone to comment.”

The two shared a laugh.

"Speaking of comments, what was the deal with using the stethoscope after you ate those people? Why did you use it today? To make sure they digested properly?" the shrunken man asked.

Lindsay patted her tummy. "It's fun to listen in."

"Doesn't that seem a bit cruel? A bit like a violation of privacy?" Keshawn asked.

They're in my belly. Why should they feel like I'm not entitled to listen to them?"

As odd as it was, Keshawn couldn't think of a single argument to refute such an assertion. Conceding the point, he asked, "Well, what do they say?"

Lindsay shrugged. "The unwilling ones?Lots of shouting. A few cries for help. Sometimes people will encourage each other to fight against my stomach and try to make me feel sick so I'll throw them up. That's usually my favorite. They always wiggle the best then. Sometimes they even last until I get home. The willing ones seem to enjoy it in there, while they last."

“So you don’t ever bring shrinkies home?” Keshawn was surprised that this. Given the enthusiasm she had had with the three men from earlier, he would have expected the giantess to engage in such a pastime.

“It’s against the rules,” Lindsay explained. “Bringing you here alive was an accident. Don’t worry. I still plan to eat you. But you’re only here because I was caught up with work and forgot about you.”

Keshawn looked about the room. “Any boyfriends then?”

Lindsay shook her head. “Not at present. Went on a few dates recently. Not too many great guys out there. A lotta them are about as deep as a puddle.”

“Oh, that’s a bummer,” Chris supposed.

“They all taste pretty good though.”

“You ate everyone you dated?” Chris said, eyes wide.

Lindsay chuckled at the idea. “Of course not. Well, not all of them. Sorry, I can see how you would have misinterpreted me. Though I have eaten boyfriends in the past.” She smiled fondly at the memory. “Introduced one to vore and he slowly got into it. The other was already into vore when we met. I think we both kinda knew where the relationship was headed. But it was fun for us to date each other before I shrank him.” She sighed happily. “I still think about them sometimes.” Refocusing on Keshawn her expression became almost sexually hungry, Her her eyes narrowed and her lips curled showing white teeth.

“Now let’s send you to where you’re going, my delicious little treat. My belly is waiting for you and you’re late to the party.” Picking up Keshawn, she carried him to the kitchen. The room was a small, simple affair. Its walls and cabinets colored white. The floor likewise white, with black trim between the tiles.

Setting him on the table, she walked to the sink. “I hope you like this kitchen. It’s the last room you’ll ever see.” She laughed.

A bit of a cruel laugh, Keshawn privately mused.

As if reading his thoughts, Lindsay explained herself. “Sorry, that came across a tad maniacal. The thing is I’ve always hated this kitchen. I should renovate. Or rather, I would if I owned the place. But I rent this apartment.” She regarded her surroundings with all the approval of an astronaut in a room full of flat earth paraphernalia. “Still, it’s all I have for now.”

“Can’t you move?”

“Rent controlled,” Lindsay replied as she brought out a tall glass from a cubard. Stopping by the sink to fill it with water, she returned to sit before Keshawn. “Not that I couldn’t afford a new apartment, but I’d rather not.”

“Doesn’t the dish pay well?” Keshawn asked. He had heard two of the waitstaff talking about that very subject earlier that evening.

“It does. Extremely. Even more now that I’m a manager,” Lindsay confirmed. “Like I said, I could move, I just prefer to avoid the extra expense. Besides, this place is ideally positioned. It’s within walking distance to work so nowhere else could beat the commute. Especially in the traffic in this city. Oh.” The beautiful woman winced. “I suppose you found out just now about my living walking to work when you were stuck in my pocket, didn’t you? Couldn’t have been pleasant for you. I really do feel guilty about keeping you in my back pocket for so long because I typically treat willing meals a bit better. I seriously apologize. But anyway, yeah. Most of my time is spent at the Forbidden Dish. I’m the restaurant manager you see, so it’s nice to be able to walk to work.” As an afterthought, she added. “And the gym. And the beach.”

Returning to the table with her glass of water, she sat down. “Well anyway, it’s getting late. What do you say? Ready?”

Keshawn looked about, trying to think of a way to stall. Despite her beauty, despite her apparent kindness towards him, he still didn’t want to be eaten by Lindsay. Not after how she had treated Bernard and the others. This woman had taken such delight in murdering three people and she showed no remorse about any of it.

Yet he couldn’t tell Lindsay he didn’t want her to eat him. Based upon how she’d treated the three men from earlier, begging for his life would only ignite a playfully cruel aspect of her personality. He dared not ask, nor beg to be spared.

Instead, Keshawn cleared his throat. “Um, could I have a dance first? Usually shrinkies are entitled to one before they are eaten. Or so I heard. I would love to watch you dance.”

Lindsay let out a long sigh, and looked over at a ticking clock on the wall. It was a Star Wars clock, with Darth Vader set in the center of the clock face. Vader’s arm represented the hour hand of the clock which was beside the ‘4,’ the minute hand was his lightsaber and was directed towards the ‘11.’ “Dude, it’s nearly four in the morning. I am not in the mood for dancing. I just want to eat you, maybe drink some water, then go to bed.”

Keshawn gazed at her levelly, meeting Lindsay’s eye. “That doesn’t seem fair,” he said, trying to make the statement sound more disappointed than angry.

The beautiful woman seemed to consider the typical pre-Forbidden Dish corollary, clearly searching for an amelioration. She settled upon nudity. “While I do like to treat my willing shrinkies to something a little extra special, you already got to see me naked, which is more than most people see. Why don’t we call it even?”

This last sentence was phrased as a question, but had been uttered in a manner suggesting it was not for debate.

Lindsay reached towards him. “It was nice meeting you, um…”

“Keshawn.”

“Right. It was nice meeting you Keshawn. I’m looking forward to falling asleep while you squirm in my tummy, so don’t be shy about moving around when you get there.”

“Wait, wait. Hang on. If you don’t want to dance then wait just one second.” Keshawn raised his hands before Lindsay closed hers about his body.

Lindsay sighed. “What now? Can we make this quick? I really do want to eat you and get to bed.”

“Okay. But consider this first,” Keshawn heaved a deep breath, and made his pitch, perhaps the most important he would ever make. “You could save me until tomorrow. Remember, I’m willing. Not like I’m going to run off. You could dance for me then. And it would be cool to spend the night with the person who’s going to eat me.”

Keshawn didn’t really know what he was saying. He was making things up as he went but it seemed to work well. Lindsay seemed to be considering it, so he pressed the idea. “I mean, maybe you would like keeping me around too. Like you said before, you never take people like me home. Why not draw out the experience?”

Lindsay tapped her chin with one finger. She seemed to think it over. “Huh, yeah. Good point. Maybe. Might be cool to keep you around tonight, knowing I’ll eat you tomorrow.”

“And we could have breakfast together. That would be cool.”

“You would be breakfast,” Lindsay reminded him, leaning forward and inspecting him with twinkling blue eyes.

“Oh, of course.” Keshawn agreed. Perhaps he could escape Lindsay’s home when she went to sleep. She seemed willing to let him be for the night. He planned to use everything he’d ever learned as a businessmen in sales to convince her that keeping him alive for the night was in her best interests. “I could be with you when you got ready for work. And you would have already had someone before you even showed up.”

“Wait a minute,” Lindsay said with the air of someone who has just uncovered a hidden agenda. “Is that what this is about?” For a horrible moment, Keshawn thought she had seen through him. Lindsay wagged a finger at the miniscule fellow and in a tone of playful severity, and mock-scolded him. “You want to see me naked one more time.”

“Oh, well you are beautiful,” Keshawn agreed, trying to act caught out. “I guess I might as well own up. A fellow can dream. But then I figured, maybe I wouldn’t have to dream.”

Lindsay let out another laugh, this one genuinely cheerful and warm. “You are so incredibly cute. I just love willing guys. I could almost, I dunno. Not eat you at all. Keep you around, like, forever?”

Keshawn brightened. “Really?” He tried not to sound overly excited. “I would love that. Just be your little man around the home. That would be really fun. Let’s try it.”

“Oh that would be fun,” Lindsay agreed, her tone mellow. She twirled a finger through a few strands of her strawberry blonde hair. “It fact it sounds amazing. I could keep you around forever. My little houseman to come home to at the end of the day. You could fall asleep on my belly as I digest the people I’ve eaten.” She closed her eyes, rubbing her stomach. You could massage my belly while they squirm on the inside. “What a nice way to fall asleep. We could even try it tonight and see if we both like it. Not that anyone’s squirming now.”

Keshawn nodded, trying to keep this energy going. Had Lindsay just agreed to keep him around? This was actually working out. He just needed to keep her happy and bide his time until he could escape. “Yeah. I could be a houseman. That would be way, way more fun than being eaten.”

Lindsay narrowed her eyes, her expression darkening. “I thought so!”

Keshawn blinked, sensing a sudden shift in energy. Nevertheless, he plowed forward, hoping his mind was only being overly paranoid. “Well, that’s good. So, um, it’s settled. I’ll be your house man.”

“Not what I meant. You changed your mind, didn’t you?” Lindsay said, pointing an accusing finger at him. “You don’t want me to eat you anymore.”

“No, no. It’s not that. It’s just the idea of more time with you-”

“Keshawn, you changed your mind. You have the chance to be honored by me eating you. It could have been fun for you and me. I could have considered you a friend. And treated you like a friend. A tasty shrunken friend. But now you’re doing this roundabout dance to try to get out of it.”

“No, I wanted to be eaten. I did.”

“You’re speaking in the past tense,” Lindsay pointed out. “So you no longer want to be eaten, huh? You know Keshawn, I really do like to eat people who want to be eaten. It’s such a compliment. But people who change their mind. It’s a weird sort of rejection. And I just love overruling it.”

“Please Lindsay, just listen. I do want to be eaten.”

“Good because I’m about to eat you. So you have no problem with it?”

Keshawn sat stunned at this pronouncement. “Well, um. I-”

“You’re not excited about it,” Lindsay replied with certainty. “I can tell, Keshawn. You’re not the first guy in my clutches who has attempted to talk his way out. Want to know what happened to everyone else who tried?”

She pulled up her batman shirt again and rubbed her belly. Her eyes never left the trembling man on the table before her.

Keshawn was slowly backing away. Just a few more steps distance between them and he would turn to run across the table. When he reached the far side, he would jump off. It was a long fall but at his reduced height perhaps he would still be okay. Then he could try to hide in the kitchen until she gave up the search and went to bed. After that he would try to make his escape.

“Don’t be afraid,” Lindsay was saying. “You’ll have plenty of company.” Reaching out with more speed than Keshawn thought possible, she grabbed him. “Those three guys you watched me eat earlier. And there was another person who asked me to eat him at the beginning of the night. He was a good boy though. He didn’t change his mind about being eaten. Unlike you.”

Lindsay’s grip suddenly tightened, causing Keshawn to gasp in pain. “Please,” he wheezed.

“Please eat you?” Lindsay replied. “Okay.”

Opening her mouth, she popped him in. Rolled him about, she tasted Keshawn. The idea of playing with him occurred to her. This was going to be her last shrinkie for the night, and she did so enjoy their fevered chances at escape.

To her disappointment, her snack didn’t put up the fight she had expected. He simply was content to lie on her tongue and let himself be moved about. No cries for help or mercy, no thrashing or attempts to escape. Simply boring docile acceptance.

It was late, and Lindsay was tired. Rather than draw this out, Lindsay flipped Keshawn once more on her tongue, took a deep breath, and swallowed.

Picking up her water, Lindsay drank several large sips, making sure to wash the food down. For a moment she closed her eyes, focusing on the sensation of the squirming lump of food making its way down her esophagus.

Down he went, squirming slightly as he passed down her throat and into her chest. She felt him disappear into her belly. Keshawn was now inside her, along with four other people in various states of digestion. The fool had wanted to escape. Thought he could trick her. Well now he understood that he couldn’t possibly have tricked her. She had eaten him, dominated him. And now everything he was would become part of her.

The idea always gave Lindsay a charge and now was no different. But she was also quite sleepy and the idea of bed was an irresistible one.

Sighing, she finished the water, placed the glass on the counter, and walked to the bedroom. Her focus was on her stomach as she walked, but she could feel very little motion in there. Perhaps her snack was still getting settled. But after eating three people an hour ago, and another a few hours before that, she hoped her stomach was fully in the process of digestion. If so, then it would be full of acid and the burning it induced on her stomach’s most recent occupant would then incite him to struggle more.

Lying in bed a moment later, she pulled over the covers, reached over to the nightstand, and switched off the lamp. There in the darkness, she lay on her back. There was no no squirming from her abdomen or excitement from within her stomach. Keshawn was remarkably inactive.

That happened occasionally, and though she still took pleasure in the act of swallowing someone and the knowledge that they were trapped in her stomach, usually she found it just a bit disappointing with there was no further sensation. Just as she felt herself drifting off, it came; a sudden pop of motion inside her stomach, like someone punching the wall of her stomach.

Lindsay smiled in the darkness. There was her snack, finally asserting himself. It was a dim echo of the amount of struggling there had been when she’d eaten the three people earlier, but no less pleasant for all that. Still, it was about time. It made her wish she had a stethoscope at home.

A yawn forced itself from her lips. She really was too tired to stay awake any longer. Rolling to one side caused more motion in her tummy. Pleasant, but sleep was pressing on her eyelids. Not wanting to resist, Lindsay closed her eyes and fell asleep. As she dreamed, she mumbled.

There were several flurries of motion in her stomach, but not a single one of them woke her.

***

Inside Lindsay’s stomach, Keshawn and the rest of Lindsay’s stomach contents sloshed about as their consumer turned on her side. The water Lindsay had drank had quickly heated up to her body temperature. Now it was unpleasantly warm. In what remained of the water was suspended the broken down, half-digested bodies of the men Lindsay had eaten earlier, Bones and fat and dissolving pieces of meat formed the slurry of nutrients in which Keshawn was awash. He floundered and summersaulted in the liquid darkness whenever Lindsay shifted position. The little air there was to breathe made his lungs hurt, mixed as it was with the fumes of hydrochloric acid. His skin felt like it was on fire.

“I did want to be eaten,” Keshawn shouted in the crampet confines of the stomach. He was honestly surprised at how little room there was in here. Standing as best he could, he tried to get decent footing, then punched the stomach wall as hard as he could.

“I just didn’t want to be eaten by you, you fucking bitch! Fuck you! Fuck you! I hope you go to hell you insensitive fucking monster, whoring around and flirting in your tight jeans!”

Lindsay’s words came back to him from when she was showing off her bottom. “Tomorrow you might just be part of my ass.” He hoped not. But then he was left thinking of the beautiful image of her naked body, her scintillating, beautiful hourglass figure. He would become part of her whether he wanted to or not.

Lindsay spoke, the resonance of her voice sounding all around him. He couldn’t make out the wores because her stomach gurgled, a noise akin to a rumble of thunder in the dark confines of her stomach. It drown out Lindsay’s words, making them unintelligible. And it reenforced Keshawn’s fate, his future. He cried out wordlessly in reply. He blinked, as if hoping to see in the absolute darkness. But there was nothing to see. Nothing but people who had already been partially digested and he had no desire to see them.

Keshawn wished he’d had the chance to tell Lindsay off. Now it was too late. He hardly thought she could hear him, unless she had a stethoscope at home. That seemed unlikely, considering she didn’t bring uneaten shrinkies home with her on a regular basis.

The memory of the businesswomen flashed before his mind; the pretty woman to whom he had originally been served that evening. She had been so cute, seemed so kind and gentle. How happy he would have been to be her dinner. But now he was inside the cruel and calculating Lindsay. She was beautiful to be sure, but acted like the devil incarnate. He was going to become a part of Lindsay. And there was no escape.

Soon, his breath gave out. Keshawn collapsed and sank into the watery sludge in Lindsay’s belly, the acids doing their work. In a few hours, the slurry of nutrients that had once been his body was admitted into Lindsay’s intestines.

***

The next evening, Lindsay supervised at the Forbidden Dish. Many a man admired her attractive form, maintained by the food she had eaten the previous evening. The beautiful woman enjoyed the attention.

Only once during the evening did she remember Keshawn, and then only briefly when it seemed like a willing man was going to change his mind. As it turned out, he didn’t. And Lindsay was all smiles and tenderness when she ate him.

The End