A blaring phone alarm awoke him from his slumber, the piercing noise screaming in his ears. This triggered an equally blaring headache, enough to force him groggily open his eyes. This was a feeling he was familiar with, unfortunately.

What he was less familiar with was the fleshy surface his face was currently buried in. It took some effort, but he was able to pull his head away. He went to take a breath of fresh air, but found he had to spit out some congealed salty substance first. For a moment, he simply lay there, resting the side of his head against the surprisingly soft, almost pillowy surface, while his he let his sore body recover from the intense night he’d just had.

It took some time for his vision to properly return, especially with bits of sleep crusting over his eyes. This was easily rectified by pulling an arm free, and wiping the crumbly pieces away, but his vision remained blurry and unfocused. Even blinking repeatedly didn’t seem to help. It wasn’t until he looked down that he realized that he could see his own hand perfectly, as well as the surface he was resting on.

Despite its softness, the surface had a very particular structure, grooves that were just large enough to stick a finger into were etched into it. They were arranged in the oddest patterns, the deepest running parallel to each other and curving gently as they extended outwards. Shallower, more random-seeming grooves criss-crossed them in many places, effectively creating a bizarre, contoured grid, running across the curved surface. It wasn’t exactly perfect, however – bits of dried scum and dirt were caught inside the grooves in many places, which he recognised as similar that had just been in his mouth not too long ago. And, of course, he recognised them as being far larger than they should have been.

The events of last night came swimming back to him… to some degree. He remembered waking up bug-sized on his former drinking table. He remembered the woman – no, two women – who had found him. He remembered being picked up, and then dropped, and then—

The ground shifted beneath him, threatening to toss him off.

Instinctively, he grabbed on, scrabbling up to his knees. What he wasn’t expecting was for his head to impact another surface, similarly soft and ridged, that was evidently just above him. The sudden knock was enough to throw him off balance, sending him tumbling off the curved edge of the strangely warm thing.

He landed with a dull thud, although thankfully the fall was quite short for once. After rubbing his already pounding head, he looked, still taking a moment to comprehend what he was looking at. A huge, bulbous object sat in front of him, oblate and long in shape. The grooves had seen earlier now clearly created a faint swirling pattern, marking out a huge, fleshy pad. Above the object, were four more just like it, lined on top of each other, each progressively smaller than the last.

It was a set of gigantic toes, connected to an equally gigantic foot.

For now, it simply rested its side, the length of it extending across the same surface he was now standing on, and heavy enough to sink into it slightly. It was clear now that he had been resting in the space between the big and second toes, briefly stuck to the larger of the two. At least he hoped it was only brief, given the state they were in. He could only speculate to how he’d ended up there for now.

Glancing down one way, he could see the expanse of the sole stretching out – if it was laid against the ground, it would be large enough to land a plane on, it seemed. Not that it was anywhere near flat enough; huge wrinkles lined the entire surface, much more intense than the ones he’d encounter on the toe, great folds in the pale flesh. Some of them were large enough that he could likely walk across them, not that he would like to. The toes were grubby, but this sole was downright gross, being coating in dried sweat and filth. The wrinkles only served to accentuate this, with dark grime filling any available crevice.

Well, he certainly wasn’t going that way.

He lofted himself onto his own feet, and began to slowly walk the other way, around the toes that were blocking his path. It took longer than he would have liked, but he evidently had time – there was no motion, other than the occasionally twitching of the toes, massive muscles reasserting themselves under the flesh.

Soon, the owner of the massive ped came into view. She was laying spread eagled, limbs flung out somewhat haphazardly. It certainly didn’t look comfortable, but it was a position he recognised at least. He had spent his own fair share of hungover mornings in that same position, once he was wallowing enough to not care about preserving his own dignity.

It also made it fairly clear that the two of them were both on top of the same, over-sized sofa. One leg was extended out towards him, terminating in the foot he’d apparently become quite intimate with, which resting on one of the armrest along with his own puny body. The other had careened off the edge, presumably sitting flat on the floor, although he couldn’t tell from this angle. Her arms were similarly split, with one resting comfortable on her midriff, and the other slung somewhere behind the sofa cushions.

Her head was propped against the opposite armrest, although sitting lopsided. This had caused her blonde, almost golden hair to become bestraggled, strands clinging to every available surface. For a while, he didn’t recognise her. After all, he had previously seen her done-up meticulously, in light which disguised her natural colour, as well as her lightly tanned skin. It didn’t help that her face was screwed up and distorted, half-squashed against the back of the sofa.

But her mouth. The mouth was currently hanging open on one side; although her lips had dried up, there was still enough moisture to accommodate the unflattering thin line of drool that hung out from it. That mouth, he certainly remembered.

His body laid flat against the wet tongue, the friction caused by hundreds of tastebuds being the only thing holding him in place for the time being. A vile mix of saliva and sweetened alcohol still sat in a thick layer on top the muscle, although it was slowly draining towards the back of the huge mouth, although some was dripping off the sides and presumably pooling somewhere underneath. Of course, it was also now coating his skin vehemently.

The rhythm of the music that he’d been enduring was now heavily muffled by the mass of flesh and muscle that now he was now effectively encompassed by on all sides, although the thudding bass still found its way through in the form of vibrations with every beat. This might have provided him with some small relief, if it wasn’t for the sound that replaced it. Air continually rushed through the cavern, circling around as it found its path to outside blocked, before being funnelled upwards through the alternative channels. Each gust whistled through the gaps in the enamel blocks that lined the edges of the mouth, another thing to pierce his ears; it was somewhat surprising he could still hear at all by this point.

He let out a groan, rolling over onto his side. Everything ached, inside and outside. It was perhaps fortunate that he’d just swallowed what felt like his own weight in drink – it was at least numbing what would otherwise might be unbearable.

Unfortunately, that was hardly the end of his troubles.

The floor beneath him suddenly came to life, jolting sharply to the side. His tentative position was disturbed, and he found himself being rolled down a newly-formed slope. He yelled out, and desperately scrabbled for a grip. To his surprise, he actually managed to dig his fingers into the pliable pink muscle, the indent forcing saliva to well up over them, drenching his hand. Still, it was enough to halt his descent.

However, this action was not without consequence. The tongue almost immediately thrashed against him, a reflex caused by the sudden prick it had felt. His relatively tiny form was easily flung off, sent flying across the cave. There was no time to even register what was happening before his head slammed into something hard, almost knocking him out.

The solution that was slathered over his body was enough to adhere him to the tooth, not that he really was thinking about what it was given the blow to the head he’d just suffered. If there was more time, he would have lamented how this was the second time he’d been plastered like this in the past ten minutes, but instead he received a wet slap across his front. Even in this total darkness, it was obvious that the tongue had returned for him, scooping him off the enamel like a loose crumb. It was thankfully less blunt than his previous encounter with the fingernail, managing to slide him away in one swift motion, although he could hardly describe it as any more pleasant.

It wasn’t long before he was back in his previous position, easily manoeuvred to the middle of the palette of the tongue. Although it just one small part of her, compared to every other part of this woman’s body he’d encountered, this felt the most alive, one huge writhing organism that seemed to respond to his every move to achieve what it wanted. It was more like a slimy serpent, the inhabitant of this cave, simply toying with its prey.

As if to remind him of where he truly was, he felt the air start to warble and shake. Powerful vibrations blasted through the mouth, echoing throughout the cavern, growing stronger and stronger. The shockwaves pounded his chest, intense enough to bounce him around, each one sending splatters of saliva spraying everywhere. It seemed to emanate from all around him, reverberating in the cavity created this woman’s jaw bones.

It was hardly recognisable, but he eventually worked out what was happening. She was giggling.

Even as the vibrations died down, his body continued to shake, fuelled by some new source. He began to curl up on his haunches, resting on his elbows and knees, his muscles tensing more and more. Soon he could no longer contain it, and he flung his head back, and screamed into the engulfing darkness. He pounded with both fists into the tongue, saliva splattering up with every blow. The screaming continued for several seconds, before his arms finally gave out, and he once again collapsed flat.

This time, there was no immediate response, just the aftershocks of the warbling. But soon, he felt the pink carpet underneath him begin to shift again, although it was far more controlled. It twisted to the side, sending him tumbling in one direction, much like previously. However, unlike before, it did not allow him to roll off entirely, instead tossing him upwards just in time. By the time he landed, the tongue had twisted in the other direction, causing him to tumble to the other side of the mouth. And once he reached the edge, he was flung up yet again.

He was tossed over and over, effortlessly lolled around like he was weightless. As the action repeated again and again, saliva began to swill alongside him, building up in quantity as the tongue’s natural processes took over – it felt the need to lubricate the motion, perhaps to prepare to dispose of the morsel once and for all, and as such was excreting more and more. This only made it harder for him to resist, although it was already impossible, given that he was being assaulted by the muscle in complete darkness. Even the timing seemed slightly random, ensuring that he was never quite prepared to smack into the muscle.

Eventually, though, the battering came to an end, his body flopping back in exhaustion on her tongue. He’d been left even more drenched than before, although now it was mostly the woman’s saliva invading his pores rather than the alcohol that had previously done the same. In many ways, this was worse.

He shuddered involuntarily, the drunken memories swimming back to him. This woman, whoever she was, had put him through all that, and now here she was, free to wake up the next day as if she’d done nothing at all. While he was stuck here, stranded in what he could only presume was her home. His head felt heavy, as he had to take a moment to simply sit down, letting his mind catch up to what his situation currently entailed. He needed a plan.

Before he had time to come up with one though, he felt a shift in the ground underneath him. The foot he was sharing this armrest with had begun to move, changing the way its weight was pressing down on the leather surface. The toes near to him started to twitch more erratically, before slowly splaying outwards, as if the foot was stretching. They held this position for a moment, then scrunched together, the muscles with popping and flexing with immense strength.

He rushed to his feet, having a good idea of what was coming next. His instinct proved to be correct – he only just managed to get out the way as the foot slid forwards, the sound of flesh rubbing against hard leather creaking out. By the time he had a chance to look at where it was going, it had already disappeared off the edge of the sofa, dropping down to the floor below.

Of course, this was only the beginning. The rest of the colossal structure, that he could hardly comprehend as alive, began to spur into action. Joints and muscles stretched and bent, huge limbs being raised up in tandem into a much greater stretch. The woman’s entire body rotated onto its side, every small motion – and larger – sending jolts through the sofa, threatening to knock him off his feet at any moment. Eventually, her entire torso lofted itself upwards, the great weight of it supported by powerful arms, pulling her up using the back of the sofa as a massive handhold.

The air around him seemed to shake as an inhuman drone escaped from her mouth. She had managed to get herself into a sitting position, although she didn’t seem much more awake than before – her head was lolled backwards, eyes scrunched up for a moment as she evidently seemed to going through the same unpleasant awakening as he had not too long ago. Hers was far more impactful, however, he incredibly long legs extending out for what seemed like miles in front of her, the tension being steadily built up and then released.

Eventually though, she seemed to relax much more, slumping down into the sofa quite a bit more. It creaked under her huge weight, and created indents in the seat around her that would be large enough to suck him in if he was foolish enough to approach then. Her eyes flittered open, revealing their striking blue sheen to him for the first time – he hadn’t exactly been able to make them out last night, even if he hadn’t been so distracted by the… situation. He couldn’t help but stare at them for a little while, watching the irises bounce around across the whites of her eyes, as she struggled to focus on much.

Then was movement again. This time, she lifted only a single hand, moving up to her face. A single finger extended out from this, pressing up against the side of her nose. Given the angle she was sitting at, he was treated to an unfortunately close view of her nail scraping against the dry skin. Flakes of dead skin were scratched off, floating off into the air, to join the chipped silver paint that adorned her fingernails. She let out another low groan, practically mashing her nose into the motion.

Even this simple action seemed almost geological at this size, some of those flakes likely the size of his hand. Still, it was over as soon as it had begun, and her arm began to lower back down. However, it did not return to her lap, as he perhaps would have preferred. Instead, it sauntered over in his direction, the shadow of it looming over him. At this point, it seemed entirely natural to run, his little legs tripping over themselves as he once again tried to escape an untimely demise.

Her elbow crashed down into the armrest, the force and weight of it much greater than the foot that had previously occupied it. He only barely avoided being smashed under it, and instead was caught alongside it as it bounced up and down, slowly coming to a stop. Thankfully, this motion was enough to toss him free, away from any immediate harm for the time being.

He was now laying on his back, staring up her arm, which rose up into the sky above him. High up, her open palm now supported the weight of her head, which was resting against it.

Despite all that she had caused – and was still causing – she was just an ordinary woman, perched on a sofa and using an armrest for its intended purpose. Every choice she made, every little motion, was having huge consequences for him, and each seemed to be destined to threaten his existence. Yet, given that he was not even able to leave this sofa alone, she was also the only person that could help him right now, if he somehow managed to get her attention again.

But given what had happened last night – would she actually do so?

Once again, he was given little time to think before the tongue moved again. This time though, it was a single, swift motion. It suddenly lifted upwards, simultaneously curling, such that the tip rolled down below the bottom row of teeth. Not that he could tell – the more immediate effect for him was that he was slammed into her hard palate, half-crushed against the roof of her mouth.

He would have yelled out in pain, but the air had already been squeezed out of his lungs. He was held there for a moment, before saliva washed up to meet him, forming a globule around him. This bubble almost immediately burst, as the pressure heavily increased. He thought his body might pop like a grape under the intensity, but the pressure just as quickly released, giving him a second of respite. It didn’t last though, as it increased against, compressing him against the hard surface.

Or rather, squeezed him against it. He didn’t understand at first, not able to comprehend what the point of her pulsing her tongue over him, practically plastering him to the roof of her mouth. It was an unpleasant sensation, but far from the worst he had endured so far – at least his head wasn’t spinning for once, and the pain was manageable for increasingly drunken senses. It wasn’t until he felt the saliva being squeezed out of his body, and left to run down the channel of her tongue down towards the back of her throat, that realized what was going on.

She was sucking on him. Like a hard-boiled sweet, being worn away until the gooey insides were exposed. Hopefully the same wouldn’t happen to him.

The indignity of it all rushed to the forefront of his mind. This totally random woman, who knew nothing about him, had hardly hesitated to slurp him up, and treat him like… well, a treat. He was sure, positively sure, that she had recognised him as human, yet here he was, being manhandled, with no chance to even protest. He didn’t even know what she was planning to do with him – had she even bothered to think about it?

As if in reply to his thoughts, the onslaught finally came to an end. He felt himself being lowered back down, left much drier and perhaps a little flatter. However, with his face half-sunk into the tongue, he hardly noticed the lips that had once sealed him beginning to part. In fact, he may have missed it entirely, if it wasn’t for the return of the blaring music flooding into the chamber, practically smacking him back to consciousness.

He blearily looked up, wiping the slime out of eyes as he tried to restore his vision somewhat. In truth, it was much worse than the darkness he’d endured previously, the unnatural view deeply unsettling him. The light from the outside had filtered into the cave, revealing the glistening rows of teeth for the first time. They reflected the coloured light perfectly, as would be expected of the smooth whiteness they would normally have. The gap that had been created was a few times his height, enough to give a clear view of the outside. They hadn’t moved at all – he could see the dark-haired woman off in the distance, with what he hoped was an expression of concern on her face, her mouth forming a perfect ‘O’ as she seemed to peer into her friend’s maw.

He extended an arm out, futilely attempting to signal for her help. However, there was nothing she nor him could do as the tongue whipped backwards, sending him tumbling once again, this time down the length of itself. He managed to get a grip, slamming his arms to slow himself into a slide, managing to halt his descent for a moment. Peering over his shoulder, he could now see the woman’s uvula dangling behind him, a disgusting red slimy thing. It wasn’t that he was worried about though; t was the back of her throat behind it, ribbed and dark, even with the small amount of light illuminating it. Beneath that, was an endless pit, the base of the tongue hidden deep inside it.

Perhaps annoyed by his defiance, the muscle begin to lift… no, it was more than that. The entire cavern tilted backwards, presumably along with the woman’s head. The flow of saliva increased from a gentle trickle to a torrent, forcing his grip loose. He could put up little resistance as he slid down the intense slope, grazing against every tastebud and bump along it. He shouted out, even knowing that his voice would never carry to the outside world. His cries were lost as he plunged over the final hill, turning to face his doom.

SPPLUT!

Everything suddenly jerked forward, and he felt himself being propelled forwards with incredible force. He caught only a glimpse of the teeth and lips rushing past him, before he thrown out into the open air. His body was only able to travel a short distance, before succumbing to the force of gravity, although weighed down by something clinging to his body.

There was no delay at all before he landed on the cold table with another wet splat, cushioned somewhat miraculously, leaving him unharmed despite the speed at which he had just been ejected. This was of little comfort to him though, as he lay there, half-drowning in a glob of spit, at the mercy of the two women peering down at him.