You hear Emma's soft footfalls and the denim of her jeans wear as she walks. Her purse sways, crinkling your plastic confines as it brushes up against a small bottle of moisturizer. The larger-than-life office worker hums to herself, the stride of her step unchanging until you hear the loose wobble of an old doorknob.
"Hey, Kate!" Emma says, muted from your position in her purse. The conversation continues; your presence is thrown to the back of the brunette's mind as she greets friends and acquaintances alike. "Oh, not too much. Just surviving." Emma laughs faintly, the fabric walls around you distorting her speech, making whoever she's greeting wholly inaudible.
"Maybe we'll have a chance to catch up at lunch?" And with that, light invades. You see Emma's extraordinary face. She's looking so pretty today! A light pass of makeup was expertly applied as always. But she doesn't pay you much mind.
Instead, she takes a sharpie from the drawer nearby and scrawls across the very corner of the ziplock bag. 'EM' is what she writes, marking your easily accessible container in case of prying eyes. Letting out a cute yawn, you’re tossed towards the back of the fridge, a warm soda can placed right beside you as Emma gets ready to start the workday.
The breakroom refrigerator closes with an almost ominous shudder as the fan kicks back on, leaving you to contemplate your choices up until this point. Hopefully, you hadn’t pushed it too far, pestering her about this junk again. She’d never been the most direct when it came to telling you off, so it's a worry.
A few hours pass in the chilly environment of the refrigerator, several of Emma’s coworkers coming and going, grabbing their marked lunches. It's business as usual until a redhead opens the door, freckles lining the bridge of her nose. Her actions are distinctly different from the others. Instead, she looks carefully over the assortment of lunch boxes and bags, her eyes settling on you.
Your currently non-existent heart skips a beat, fear consuming you as her shadow swallows your immobile form. Her warm hands run along the plastic of the ziplock bag, heating up your chilly exterior. She grumbles something to herself, making you fear the worst. She’d eat you, and Emma would have no possible way to return you. You’d be stuck forever, fated to be eaten and flushed away with some random girls' breakfast. No method of knowing who even stole you. Your consciousness races, but she puts the baggie down, opting to steal a rather plump apple from the shelf below.
A close call! You could almost laugh, excitable and nervous. The redhead had been powerfully attractive. Lacking stimuli in this cold icebox, it's hard not to think of her. What it would be like in her mouth, tasted by her tongue. You even wonder what her breath may have smelled like. Probably coffee, you wager. It is early morning, after all.
Some more time passes. How much precisely is up in the air. Time becomes meaningless quickly, and thoughts get less coherent the longer you sit in place. There’s only so long you can play ‘pass one down’ in your head. Eventually, just as you suspect she’s forgotten you and went home for the day, a familiar face greets you. Emma! She throws the door open, her once beautifully brushed hair far more frazzled than it had been the last time you’d seen her.
You could practically kiss her. Though you figure what’s soon to come is probably close enough. Her eyes briefly scan the fridge, stopping as she spots your baggie! She lets out a cute yawn, already mentally at her limit of shit to take. You wonder if she even remembers you’re in here. The way she’s been acting, there isn’t any indication you’re anything other than a sandwich to her, the light excitement she had the other day entirely gone, as the workday has already worn her down. She shuts the door and heads over to one of only a couple tables in the relatively small break room.
You’re tossed next to a tuna sandwich and watch helplessly as a fair-haired coworker takes a large bite, swallowing the fishy substance with a gulp. “Carol, you seriously cannot be eating another one of those god-awful sandwiches!” Emma says with playful disgust, only partially in jest.
Carol chuckles, eyeing you up and down, “Hey, at least I bring some variety. Better than a boring PB&J!” Emma rolls her eyes, sitting down and taking you carefully out of the bag. Warm air rushes to you, making the doughy insides of your bread expand, and the stiffening jelly within begins to flow again. Life feels like it's been breathed back into you, just in time for Em’s rapidly approaching mouth.
It relentlessly rips at you, her white enamel tearing inquisitively into your top half, not bothering to chew before taking another more significant bite. The remainder of you sits idly in her manicured hand as she smooshes you into bits. Each tooth that falls further tears you into a colorful amalgamation of mash, her tongue probing each lump for hidden sweetness.
“Dang girl!” Carol remarks, surprised by the sheer speed at which Emma has started to devour you.
“‘hat? ‘m h’ngy’” She blurts out, mouth still full of you. The vibrations from her tongue reverberate through your core like a full-body motorboat, electrifying your senses. Carol laughs as Emma stuffs the rest of you into her mouth, chewing greedily and gulping significant parts down whole. Piece after piece tumbles down the warm squeezing muscles in her throat, colliding with the bile in her otherwise empty stomach.
Splish Splish Splish… SPLASH
Parts of you continue to be devoured gluttonously while pieces funnel continuously down Emma's throat. Occasionally, washing you down with coca-cola. It's hard to keep track even with a light omnipresence across the portions. So many views and differing sensations contrast across your state of consciousness. It's uncomfortable, making you yearn to be reunited in Em’s warm stomach.
Apathetic and downright oblivious to your presence, you wonder if she's doing this out of hostility, or an obligation to fulfill your ultimate fantasy. It worries you, tugging loosely on your many insecurities. But Emma wouldn't have offered to satisfy such a bizarre request otherwise, right? You try to put it out of your mind, the last piece of you falling and hitting the gross slop in her bubbling stomach.
Floating around in several disgusting balls of chopped-up food, you start to feel a little sick. The stomach itself is dark, groaning like a monster you'd see in the ocean's deepest depths.
G'rrkkkkl
It speaks to you, confirming the start of its process to suck you dry of everything the bread holds. It's so uncomfortably hot; a part of you wants to call out and stop this, hit the eject button on the whole thing. But it's too late to do anything but endure the constantly shifting seas of chyme and the maddeningly high temperature of Emma's gut.
The world shifts, your friend assumedly going about her day as you’re tortured in uncomfortable heat. The whole stomach shifts back and forth, your contents molding, sliding, and ultimately, breaking apart. Eventually, the waves settle, and you've pushed through the lower chamber of her stomach into a waiting room where her body processes you. Enzymes and mucus coat you in a unique brand of slime before slowly pushing you towards the rest of her intestines.
You shift within Emma countless times during the journey through her digestive tract. Your consciousness fades in and out now, flickering as you travel slowly across an alien landscape. It's surreal, thoughts scattered like a thickening bowl of soup as you're sucked dry of everything you are. Your entire world flipping upside down as she casually, and sometimes in a rush, goes about her day like any other. Likely running papers and various documents back and forth between coworkers. But eventually, it all starts to calm down; Emma is likely off work now. Ready to waste the remainder of the night at home, probably watching some baking show if you knew her.
It's hard to keep track of the goings-on outside now. How long has it even been? You aren't sure of anything anymore. Yet, despite the fog, your consciousness remains intact, albeit frighteningly unclear. Until you finally, and most unfortunately, reach the large intestine.
Something is deeply unsettling about your friend's total lack of care, yet you don’t have long to linger on it. You’re quickly assaulted by the area itself, offensive and rank. Disgusted as you start to realize exactly what you’ve become. Wet and loosely colored bits of you writhe along the undulating walls. Emma’s body has long since sucked you dry of any and all beneficial substances, leaving you as clumped waste. A food item that has long since served its purpose and has been left with nothing. You’d done everything possible for Emma, given her all you have.
Although, it had come at a high cost. You’re filth, no different than the rest of the bacteria and fetid mess around you. It's a nightmare you have no chance of escaping from. Helpless as her bowels churn you, slurping greedily at the water and mucus that coats you. Regret had been circulating for hours within your mind, absolutely wearing on your very being. Finally, it takes its last bite, the hope for enjoyment suddenly gone, letting the horror fully flood your conscious mind.
A strong sense of dysphoria rocks you almost immediately. It feels dense, no longer your comfortable bread-like self. It's far more empty. Almost as if you’re missing a part of your identity.
Shwick
Bzzzzzzt-Bzzzt-Bzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz-
An utterly baffling noise sounds from the muted world outside, which isn’t right. Emma should be heading to bed soon. Could it be an electric toothbrush, maybe? It's unclear, the noise too vague and muted to tell definitively. Though you aren’t in the dark on her activities for much longer, you catch the faint sound playing from her laptop. There’s a variety of digitally compressed groans originating beyond her body, the audio making everything explicitly clear.
You’re embarrassed, completely ashamed that you’re listening in on such a lewd act from your friend. Sure, you’d thought about her this way plenty of times, but in your current state, you hardly feel worthy of being privy to such a personal act. But, what can you do? Helpless to avert any eyes or plug any ears, you slosh around the fetid tunnel. Pushing your way deep within Emma’s bowels while she uses the energy you provided earlier as fuel for cheap pleasure. It almost makes you sad, picturing how much power her magnificent body is burning. Likely terrible, low-quality porn, too. At least, if the audio is any indicator. The whole situation simply adds to your feeling of general uselessness.
There isn't any gratuitous display, no moaning from your host, or putting on a show. It’s just a natural urge, one Emma is in dire need to relieve. Eventually, there's one final shudder and a deep click as Emma shuts off her vibrator. Its purpose, like you, had already been achieved. Although, unlike you, the vibrator still has plenty of uses left. You're left to contemplate this, sliding through the foulest part of her insides as she falls into a deep slumber.
But not you. There's no sleep in your future. Left to stagnate in filth and general grime, gradually losing your moisture as you get pushed along her unyielding digestive tract. You can't observe the valve you entered from anymore, sitting somewhere in the very middle of Emma's dark insides.
To make matters worse, it's still uncomfortably hot, to sweltering extremes. You so badly want to come out the other side. Even the gross imagery of dropping down into that porcelain bowl as a disgusting waste pile feels preferable to even a second longer inside. How would you even look Emma in the eye after this? Being quite literally shit out. As wonderfully perfect as you’re sure her butt is from the view in that porcelain bowl, the embarrassment afterward wasn’t something you’d seriously considered.
More regret piles up inside as you realize you’d failed to think of how humiliating this would be. Maybe the young brunette planned it like this. Is that why Emma’s been ignoring you? Some kind of sick lesson? If it was, you can't say it's very well appreciated. You certainly won’t be doing this again, though, her body is uncaring of these objections, and you continue to move along the dark slimy depths as Emma tosses and turns in her sleep. Cute whimpers of restlessness escape her mouth, astounding you by far away it feels and sounds. The two of you are a world apart.
Lacking the ability to sleep, you focus more on the sounds of her body, which seem to function as an unchanging constant in her beautiful world. It's almost unreal. So loud, raw, and powerful. It speaks to you with various noises, each more guttural than the last.
G'rrrrkle
G'rrrrkkkk
G'uuurrrk
It talks loudly for the rest of the night. Continuing to process whatever she’d eaten for dinner. Moving you further and further along the process that Emma’s body goes through each day. Forced to endure sights and sensations with no way to cope, you want nothing more than to close your eyes tight. Yet even that essential human function is missing from your putrid form.
Before long, the hours governed by moonlight come to a thankful close, and you find yourself pressed against an immovable exit. If you had lungs, you'd let out a sigh of relief. Now, the only thing left is for Emma to pass you. You could get back to your body! Hands, eyes, mouth, nose. All the mundane pieces that you'd taken for granted. You sorely miss having hands.
Soon, there's the creak of bedsprings as Emma lets out a decidedly cute yawn, restrained and dainty. She rises with a stretch before starting off toward the bathroom. You can feel each lazy and tired footfall, your friend still in the dreary process of waking up. You'd long since brushed aside the embarrassment you're about to go through, much more excited to return to normalcy.
"Ugh, I need some coffee." She grumbles, cluing you in on the sound of a door snapping shut. Suddenly, there's a sigh of relief as everything is thrown around, your sense of direction harshly skewed. Muscle relax, letting your solid form through, squeezed out, only to abruptly tumble as Emma lets out a sigh of relief.
Sploooosh
You hit the cold water with a splash, entering into the sterile pool of still water without any pomp or circumstance. Like any other waste Emma would pass. The water's freezing, the contrast between two extreme temperatures shocks your newly reunited mind.
Excreted in a solid log, you bob above the surface, the parts her body never needed. You watch her butthole close before neatly wiping away any traces, treating you to a beautiful view of her butt. It's hard to imagine you just popped out of there.
You wait to be turned back, the anticipation killing you slowly. You want nothing to do with this form anymore; a trip through Emma's inner workings is a total eye-opener. A lesson that you'll take with you to the grave. But she takes her time, clearly in no hurry as she plays with some app on her phone, your gigantic friend letting out another cute yawn before a yellow stream releases with a jet of power. Her body wastes no time pelting you with hot and sticky liquid. Helpless in the bowl, you're forced to take it, the early morning release of urine not sparing you any shame as the bowl's water turns a light yellow.
Emma wipes one more time before glancing back toward the bowl. Her brow lowers in a twist of revulsion, disgust at what her own body has made you into. Her nose wrinkling at your repulsive sight, she lets out a tired, "Um, ew." And pushes the switch, watching water fill the bowl, much to your surprise. Nononono! if you were flushed…
You want to scream out, thrash, fight for what must be an honest mistake! There'd be no way to ever turn back! Both sadness and confusion fill your shape, Emma’s betrayal twisting coldly into you. You want to fight for your humanity! To do anything but lay down and die! It's pointless, though; unable to move, you’re sucked under and dragged down the copper pipes to the depths below.
Emma shudders, still grossed out by what her body was able to produce. But with flushing the neat mess in the bowl, a sense of freedom overtakes her. Pressing down on that chromed fixing and watching her annoyance get carried away is a rush of adrenaline! Josh is finally gone, her worries quite literally flushed out with the nasty off-color water.
Josh had been fairly chill, or so she thought. The second she'd made the mistake of revealing her hand, it's all he'd talked about since! She felt so… objectified and used. But more than anything, Emma was tired of hearing about it. So, she went along with it, hoping to sate his weird desire. At first, it was even fun in a goofy way. Being able to tease a boy with her mouth alone? Even if she didn’t harbor any romantic interest, it's too easy to pass up.
Though, the whole Brittany situation had made things decidedly more awkward. The enjoyment he got out of being eaten by Britt? It was too much. She knew it was time to distance herself. But, hell, why not give him what he wanted? So, she'd gone along with it anyway. All the problems of kicking a toxic element out of the group were wrapped up tidily. And with no more stress than making lunch! Part of her feels a little guilty, but it was his fantasy. It couldn’t be all that bad, she reasons. Yeah, if anything, he probably loved the ride!
She places her phone across the porcelain rim of the sink. The brunette sighs, hoping for a short week and stripping for the shower. She couldn't be late for work again, not this week. Plus, Emma still had to make something for lunch! Maybe she'd go with turkey today. The cogs in her head get stuck on it for a moment before turning the faucet head to life with a squeak.