Sink or Swim

Mrs. Larson's estate was truly a sight to behold. Intimidating and gaudy would be an understatement. Unlike other mansions set in the gated community, Mrs. Larson's was dominated by picturesque statues and shrubbery resembling HERSELF rather than generic lions or other mundane designs. Egotistical would be one way to put it, yet Mrs. Larson gave off the aura that made such displays of extravagance seem almost acceptable. After introducing myself to the guardsman at the gates as one of Mrs. Larsons athletes, I hurried up the chiseled stone steps towards the two monolithic dark oaken doors of the mansion's entrance.

I checked my watch. 2:00pm sharp, Saturday. I let off a sigh of relief, just on time. I knew Mrs. Larson would not be pleased with me if I was running late. I was already performing slightly below my other teammates in the relays. My times for breaststroke and butterfly were great when compared to other colleges, yet Mrs. Larson demanded that all students who underperformed had to attend after-hours training on the weekends to improve performance. These were one on one sessions of rigorous training that allowed underperforming athletes on the team a chance to prove themselves, and it seems as though my time to improve was now.

I gulped; hands slightly damp as I hesitated at the doors.  Mrs. Larson was a stern person both at the poolside and outside it. She was a multi gold medal winner in the Olympics many times over, teaching some of the greatest swimmers in our nation. Regardless of the occasion, whether we were being coached or not, Mrs. Larson exuded a calm confidence that set her apart from other faculty at our college. In addition, all swimmers who returned from the weekend "Sink Sessions" as some had dubbed it, never spoke of them whatsoever. They merely avoided the topic entirely, yet some seemed to flinch or even cower when spoken to by Mrs. Larson hence forth.

Would I do the same? How bad could these private sessions really be?

Mrs. Larson usually held about 3-4 of these sessions each weekend with various students. Jacklyn, the girl who also had a session this weekend, was scheduled for 1pm.  If I could ask her some questions before she left, maybe I could get an edge on the Sink Session.

I exhaled and pressed my finger lightly upon the doorbell. A sing songy chime rang out. After a brief delay, a small speaker adjacent to the bell emanated a deep soothing feminine voice.

"Ahh Sam, just on time. Make your way inside and meet me out back. Don't be shy and delay, I am just at the poolside now. And remember, if you did not bring the new swimsuit provided to you, do not bother entering!"

The new, and way too tight swimsuits that Mrs. Larson provided to those receiving special training were confining, in addition to the fact that it had a small series of waterproof electronics hidden beneath the collar. 

A shock collar maybe? Mrs. Larson was strict, but not that intense, right?

Shrugging this thought away, I walked through the grand oaken doors, only to be met with a monolithically sized painting of Mrs. Larson herself. The picture depicted her holding a red silken scarf that draped across her nude body, leaving little to the imagination but tastefully covering all necessary locations. Her raven black hair ran down the length of her back, accentuating her bountiful curves.  Her pale white skin shimmered brightly, emphasized by the red of the scarf and her ruby lips. I stood in awe for a moment before recalling Mrs. Larson's words. 

Making my way to the back of the property, I was greeted by the Olympic sized swimming pool that sat at the back of the Larson estate. The crystal blue water lay untouched, even exempt of lane ropes and flutter boards. Odd, since the pool looked as though it was set up for lounging as opposed to training. In addition, Jacklyn was nowhere in sight. Yet, I did notice Mrs. Larson relaxing in a poolside beach chair, sipping a tall glass of pink strawberry water, accented with a sliced lemon at the top. As I approached, I noticed she was wearing a two-piece red bathing suit, a set of shades resting lightly atop her head.

"Ah Sam! You made it. I just finished up with Jacklyn a couple moments ago. She really did put up a good effort with training today and should be finishing up this afternoon."

Thats right, there usually was a follow up training session the morning after as well, so much for enjoying any of my weekend, I was going to be real sore on Monday.

Mrs. Larson rose from her seat as she sauntered over to the poolside.

I couldn’t help but notice her physique once again. In her mid 40's, she truly was a beautiful woman with boisterous curves. I tried not to let my eyes wander out of respect, but I was shocked when I noticed her bathing suit bottoms. To consider the bottoms a bathing suit was a stretch. A red thin line wrapped around her waist as the G-String bathing suit ran tightly between her two round buns. I blushed as I averted my gaze. This was far from her usual training attire of suit pants and a jacket.

I dropped my bag in a nearby empty pool chair and shrugged off my track pants and shirt to reveal my swimming attire beneath. I wanted to get straight to training before I embarrassed myself with arousal. I called out to Mrs. Larson saying I was ready for training, but as I turned to regard her my eyes nearly shot out of my head.

Mrs. Larson was leaning over the side of the pool, dipping her fingers into the water below.

"Oooh, the water is pretty chilly, even for a day like today. Sam, why don't we have a brief chat before we begin training?"

Mrs. Larsons thong rode up high between her cheeks. I stared, as I could just make out the shape of her outer lips hugging tightly against what little fabric rested there. My eyes wandered slightly upwards, noticing the skin darkening slightly, revealing a coffee-colored ring.  A tiny piece of string clinging tightly to the center of her asshole. And then, the ring winked, almost chewing on the string, bringing it deeper into the cleft. Still bending over, Mrs. Larson peeked back at me and smiled knowingly.

I stammered in shame and agreed to any distraction, chat or no, that would take me away from this awkward situation for good.

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As we sat together at the poolside, one of Mrs. Larson's maids brought forth a cool blue drink for me, presumably a workout beverage. I sat there, awkwardly beside my coach as she too received a fresh glass of strawberry juice before downing her previous one. Mrs. Larson stifled a small burp.

"Excuse me, I had a light meal before you came, and it seems to be upsetting my stomach slightly."

Mrs. Larson gazed down, reclined, at her belly.  Even though she was once an Olympic swimmer, it seemed as though age had caused a healthy amount of pudge to form at Mrs. Larsons mid-section. By no means much, but just enough to round out her figure somewhat.

Grrrnn…

A small gurgle emanated from her stomach as she clenched it with her fingers. She sighed, as she turned her head towards me.

Almost lazily, Mrs. Larson began to speak to me. 

"Listen Sam. You and I both know you haven’t been performing at your best these recent months. Our college has a strict reputation to adhere to when it comes to our athletes, you and I both know this."

I nodded.

"That is why I host these weekend ‘Sink Sessions’ as you all like to call it."

She smiled slightly.

I inquired about the training briefly, curious when we would get to swimming.

"Oh, don’t you worry, things will be beginning shortly, I'm just waiting for our dear Jacklyn to finish up with the first portion of the training."

Wasn’t Jacklyn supposed to be done by now?

 I guess I always assumed that due to the nature of the private sessions, the Sink Sessions would conclude after only about an hour’s time with a brief set of training the morning after.

GRRRMMM!

Another load groan, this time quite audible, erupted from Mrs. Larson's stomach, followed by a very unladylike belch. A small bit of spittle flew past her chin, alongside... a piece of a miniature bathing suit? I furrowed by brow in confusion, about to ask, when suddenly I felt my vision begin to stretch and my body go numb. I heard Mrs. Larson speak.

"Ahh there we go, plenty of room now to work with. And what perfect timing too! I've really gotten this technique down to an art at this point."

Suddenly, my body felt as though it was plummeting while the world around me seemed to grow to monolithic proportions. Looking in panic to my right, Mrs. Larson's form swelled in scale as well. Yet, it wasn't the world around me growing, instead, I was shrinking! The sudden feeling of weightlessness came to a stop as I found myself standing upon a sea of blue. The pool chair was now a landscape, and Mrs. Larson a giant statue, much like the ones at the entrance to her estate. Based on her scale, I estimated I was around 1 inch in height, just about the size of the end of her thumb. How was this even possible? Abruptly, the sound of Mrs. Larson's voice echoed above.

"You see Sam, our team has quite a reputation to uphold, and when I notice that members are struggling, I find it best to enact some rather 'unique' training methods. The drink you had earlier was developed by one of our college’s science divisions to improve transportation methods for civilians en masse. Yet, due to some 'accidents' it is not currently available for public hands. That is, unless you oversee a leading athletic division that brings home gold medalists and a substantial amount of funding. I won’t bore you with the details, and as far as I know, the technicalities of the process are even beyond me. But rest assured, your condition is not permanent. Your general physique and durableness at this stature are enhanced but you can still overdo it if you are not careful. An antidote can be provided if you complete my training regime to an acceptable manner.”

I stared up at her face as she spoke, now seemingly miles away, and shuddered. I wondered how difficult the training would be. At this size, even the most mundane things could pose an incredible challenge. As I stood, even the mesh around me was akin to a rope bridge. I carefully found my footing and took a long deep breath.

Focus. I had completed the tryouts for the team, a difficult task to begin with, how bad could a 1 on 1 session with Mrs. Larson really be? I just needed to concentrate.

After thinking this, I took note of my surroundings and gasped as I realized just exactly where I had shrunk.

On either side of me, two milky white monolithic walls stood tall. They lead to a dark divide of crimson fabric that stretched rather tightly against her intimate parts. I could just make out the swell of her lower lips straining against the cloth.

FOCUS!

I scolded myself, as my eyes wandered over the impossible sight in front of me with a mix of strange arousal and fear.

"Hm? Do not tell me you are starring little Sam. That is rather rude if I may say. No matter, I am practically the scale of the Statue of Liberty at this point, you can't help but gaze at areas in your periphery. But if I catch you being naughty, well..."

Suddenly the cream-colored mountains on my sides shifted towards me at an impossible speed, threatening to crush me between their might. I threw up my arms in preparation for the inevitable, shutting my eyes in fear, but my fingers merely grazed against her skin as the thighs came to a stop, slowly opening back up to their previous position.

"I will be forced to make your training all that much harder."

"Now, your task is simple in theory, yet in practice all that much more difficult. You shall begin your training with a running exercise, followed by a swimming workout, and then end in an endurance challenge. If you can fully complete this gauntlet, you will have proved to me that you are worthy of staying on the team."

I looked up between her legs, as her gaze darkened.

"But if you fail to oblige to the challenge, or succumb to weakness during the gauntlet, a truly unfathomable outcome shall await you."

GRRRRGGLLL!

There it was again, her stomach continued to act up, but at this scale, the sound resonated like a groaning beast far above and beyond me.

“First, climb up my body just beneath my chin. You may choose any route accessible to you. 30 minutes is the time allotted to you my dear Sam. Begin.”

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Not wanting to waste a moment, I thought of my options. The climb and subsequent walk across her body in her current lying down position would most likely be about 5km at my scale. A decent distance walk on an inclined unstable surface, but to get up to her abdomen in the first place would be the most difficult part. Also, backtracking to her heel would take too long. I slowly felt along her thigh with trepidation.

Could she even feel me at this size?

The skin was smooth and smelt subtly of lavender. But too smooth, as attempting to find any kind of foothold or surface merely resulted in my feet and hands slipping away. I once more stared into the dark crevice in front of me. The same route to my destination AND a cloth wall that would undoubtedly allow me to scale it with relative ease.

Don't be naughty.

I recalled the warnings of Mrs. Larson and steeled myself. Kicking off my heels, I darted forward making a beeline for her panty covered crotch. Closing in on my target, the illumination around me began to fade as the curvy walls of Mrs. Larson's inner thighs slowly blocked out the sunlight. The summer sun was the least of my concerns however, when I began to feel the humidity and heat around me. The environment had changed. Being but an inch tall had made insignificant perceptions all the more noticeable. A heady aroma of slight sweat and musk filled the air. My head grew heavy with the new scents, almost like I could physically taste the aroma around me. I tried to shrug it off as I reached the crimson wall.

The bottom of Mrs. Larson's thong did very little to hide her most private parts. The scent too had changed to more earthy notes as I approached the thin strip of fabric that now separated me from her asshole. Occasionally it seemed to take on a mind of its own, slowly chewing on the fabric and releasing it in an offbeat pattern. I would need to time my climb correctly, lest I get a hand or foot caught between the folds of her anus. I readied myself, and swiftly grasped at the fabric the moment her brown starfish released hold of the thong. The red mesh was surprisingly easy to climb, as I darted past the hungry beast and made my way across her perineum. As I gazed upwards, the sunken portion of fabric in front of me began to dampen. I hesitated, but decided to climb around the opening where her vagina may be beneath the thong. Although climbing around her labia would be slightly more difficult, I just could not risk potentially being seen as naughty in the eyes of Mrs. Larson. Climbing across her asshole was already a big enough ask.  Still, as I tugged myself upwards along the fabric, I could make sight of the rosy pink flesh that just barely peaked through the semi translucent thong. Velvety folds glittered with a sheen of sweat. At this scale, I could very clearly make out the subconscious actions of her body, simple perspiration, at such a minute size.

Sensing my sudden stop in movement, Mrs. Larson shifted her thighs briefly, bringing them together and surging me upwards in the process. I was now pinned between her inner thighs, my head barely peeking out at the top of the precipice.

"Did I not warn you Sam? Or were you simply beginning to tire already? By the looks of your exasperated expression, it seems like the ladder. But be warned, if I catch you even but one more time lingering from either exhaustion or naughtiness, I shall keep to my word."

Slowly, Mrs. Larson eased up the pressure as I got to my feet, now at the top of her mound and the crest of the thong. A wide expanse of peachy flesh now lay before me. I gazed out beyond. Mrs. Larson, her face, merely a blurry shroud in the distance, casually sipped on the monolithic drink, a small book in the other hand. She was casually reading whilst I took on one of the greatest physical tests of my life. I was so small in scale compared to her imposing form. So much less on both strength, status, and stature. But still, I could feel hope in me yet. Her slightly rounded belly lay before me. I quickly caught my breath and began my jaunt across the expanse. I was going to complete this trial, prove to Mrs. Larson that I was worthy of being on the team, and ultimately prove to MYSELF that I could accomplish an impossible task when the odds were set against me.

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SQUISH SQAUSH SQUISH SQUASH!

Each footfall felt like running across the surface of a bouncy castle. It would have been fun if not for the circumstances set against me. Traversing Mrs. Larson's belly was quite the task. Her peachy skin took on a vibrant sheen, as sunlight reflected off the surface. The tanning oil she used kept my pace at a cautious one, lest I fall and roll off the sides of her abdomen.

"Mmmmhhhh, careful now and watch your step. You wouldn’t want to fall and lose all of your progress."

I felt Mrs. Larson's words vibrate around me, as I stared up once again at her visage.

Was she smiling?

I could just make out a coy expression across her face. I gritted my teeth and shut out the distraction as I hurried forward faster, boldened to prove my worth. My trial here wasn’t something to be amused by, I swear when I am done here I-

A slope! I was falling downwards! But not off the side, as I felt my feet come to a sudden halt. I must have fallen into her bellybutton. I wiggled my feet beneath me in an attempt to quickly dislodge them. Bringing my hands upwards, I began to hoist myself out when I heard another tremor resonate from deep within Mrs. Larson's insides.

GRRRRRMMMMM sqsh...

"AHHHH!"

Was that a voice? I swear I heard someone screaming from below the wall of flesh. I stared down at the pit beneath me as I slowly pulled myself free from the tight confines of the belly button. The heat must be getting to me. Shaking my head, I continued onwards. 

I was making good progress at this point, despite my quick fall. By my estimates I was nearing the space just beneath her left breast and would soon come across the divide between them. Casually, I noticed Mrs. Larson take another sip of her drink. I licked my lips as perspiration began to settle on my brow. The glass she held dripped with condensation as the clear pink liquid edged closer to Mrs. Larson's glossy lips.

So thirsty...

Her neck bobbed with each swallow, as gallons of rosy liquid cascaded down her throat. To my surprise, I could hear the liquid squirt past me beneath my feet, into her stomach below. At her size, the glass she held could potentially hold as much liquid as the now monolithic pool I thought I would be swimming in today. Her stomach could hold up to ten of those pools worth of liquid. I tried not to think too much about this size disparity and how large my coach’s stomach was as I continued forward.

"It's dawning on you now, isn’t it? Just how far you have run across me?"

I continued to run, the monolithic hills of her breasts on either side of me as I rushed through the divide. Her words continued to resonate around me as I surged forward.

"You see Sam, a competition in sport is a demonstration of power and status. Those who are victorious stand high above the rest, while those who fail are beneath them. That would be until they too strive to climb.”

Scaling up her collarbone, exacerbated, I planted my hands down upon her neck, breathing heavily.  

"Well done, well done. Your first trial is complete. Take a moment to steady your breathing Sam, for in just a moment you shall be getting a bit wet. A welcome respite, I am sure, after the sun bore down on you after such a run."

That was right, the next task would be swimming. I preferred this much more than running though. After all, I was on the swim team for a reason. In addition, Mrs. Larson wasn’t wrong, getting to have a dip in the pool would surely cool me down.

Wait a moment...

At my size the pool was near lake sized.

How on earth would I be able to swim a lap?

Ruby red painted nails appeared above me, and with dexterous precision grabbed the back of my swimsuit, hoisting me upwards at tremendous speed. The world blurred around me as G forces threatened to throw me into unconsciousness. As the world and my vision came to a stop, in front of me I could make out the mountainous visage of Mrs. Larson's face.  Her features were framed by cascading raven hair. I could even make out the thin lines that denoted just the subtle hint of aging, creasing across her jaw and eyes. Then my eyes were immediately fastened to the source that resonated with tremendous sound as Mrs. Larson began to speak.

"Are you prepared for your next task?"

Blood red lips parted with each and every word. Statues of ivory teeth flickered with each syllable. And a pink behemoth, her tongue, danced about with each consonant. I shivered, as her icy strawberry infused breath washed over me. 

Thats right, the swim. But where?

I glanced around and made the critical mistake of staring down at this height. Yet, instead of Mrs. Larson's monolithic breasts, beneath me, was a shimmering pool of tropical strawberry juice.

Wait, there?!

"Seems as though you have already summed things up Sam. A bit unconventional, yes, but at your size I find the most unconventional methods generally yield the best results. You will swim against a tumultuous current that I create for you as I pour the juice. Pour it, that is..."

Her lips drew close to my body as she punctuated each word deliberately.

"Into. My. Mouth."

My eyes went wide as my breath hastened.

"And there it is, the fear of defeat. One opponent versus another. That is the test Sam, that is the Sink Session’s goal. To instill fear and yield results. I could sense your bravado earlier, but now, and like many others, that visage has slowly melted away. Now, you will need to swim swiftly for a period of-

Mrs. Larson briefly arched her neck as I noticed a small bulge travelling up her throat. Her cheeks swelled briefly for a moment and then.

Urp.

A quick dainty belch was stifled within Mrs. Larson's maw.  She casually began to roll her tongue around within her mouth, seemingly interrupted by the quick burp. She quickly placed down the glass to my gratitude and with her free hand, fished something small and blue from her maw.  Within her crimson nails, Mrs. Larson inspected a small piece of azure cloth. I stared down at my own bathing suit, blue, matching that of the cloth.  Then it all dawned on me in an instant. Jacklyn, like me, was not the best swimmer on the team, probably even worse. Her absence, the scream from earlier, combined with these insane trials? My mouth fell slack as I stared into the eyes of Mrs. Larson, no, a monster, a predator, a coach to me no longer. Noticing my sudden change in expression, Mrs. Larson smiled slightly and spoke.

"Well, it seems as though you have put two and two together Sam. But know this, as long as you complete the trial, your fate will not be like poor Jacklyn, who at the moment is probably far gone at this point. Listen, we have a reputation to uphold. You either sink or swim. Now which will you choose?”

Fuck this. 

Without waiting for this demon to say another word, I quickly clamped my jaws around her finger.  I wasn’t going to play along with her games anymore. Sure, I was small, but thinking about the antidote and how to get bigger would come later.  I would rather bet my odds on escape rather than die to her stupid games.

Mrs. Larson's  eyes flickered with surprise as I tumbled free from her fingers, and fell, headed straight for her cleavage. Bouncing between the meaty orbs I surged deeper, using the slickness of the oil to find the divide between her breasts.

"Oh no, you naughty NAUGHTY little thing! Disobeying your coach and forsaking your training was not on the agenda!"

Her words echoed around me. Mrs. Larson's confident demeanor had changed to more sinister tones. Yet, I had no time to swell with fear, that emotion was now thankfully replaced by adrenaline.  Light poured in above me as her fingers, now like bloody daggers, surged down into her cleavage an attempt to scoop me up, more aggressively it seemed at this point. I managed to slip past the darting fingers, as her digits got caught up in the fabric of her red suit.  Now having no fear of slipping off her abdomen, I skidded down her sides and bounced briefly off the poolside chair's mesh. Scanning my surroundings, I made out a pool towel draped along the side of the chair. 

Mrs. Larson began to shift, a crimson mountain on the horizon that blocked out the sun, covering me in dark shadow.  Her torso loomed over me, as I stared back briefly.  The folded creases of her soft belly moved above, hands on either side of me formed to clasp together. Not waiting another moment, I jumped, thinking nothing of the consequences. Whatever fate awaited me far below amongst the bundled towel would be far better than the stewing depths of Mrs. Larson's digestive system. The fabric skidded past my back, like the worst rug burn ever as my speed increased dramatically. A sea of blue fabric encompassed me as I felt the bump of hard ground surge up beneath, and then blackness as I felt my head hit the hard surface. 

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The taste of iron filled my mouth.  My body felt like it was hit by a truck. 

Woozy...

Shade. There was shade now though. No more sun bearing down on me. I remember it was so hot, I was training, running, climbing, a nice cool swim would be refreshing.  The ground was soft beneath, but my back burned.  And my head, I could already feel a large lump forming at the back of it.  I fell, I remember now. It was so high up.

Fear.

I was running from something massive, a being intent on consuming me under the illusion of my training. I took air into my lungs, my throat scratchy and dry. A damp earthy smell permeated my senses. I slowly opened my eyes, hoping, pleading that it was all just a bad dream. 

Massive orbs of sun kissed white dominated the periphery of my view, flanked by long tall columns folded into a crouch.  Directly in front of my view, mere feet away, the source of the scent lay directly above.  A crease, twice my height, lined by multiple coffee-colored folds, winked above me. 

"That there would be my shit hole."

Mrs. Larson was crouched directly overhead, one hand holding aside her red thong swimsuit, the other holding her left butt cheek. 

"It's where you will be exiting tomorrow morning after I punish you for disobeying me and the sanctity of the Sink Session. There is a reason why my methods are a closely guarded secret Sam. For those who fail, are deemed unworthy and merely discarded. I enact this judgement, to create the best athletes our college has ever seen. But a lack of obedience is a critical error on your part.  Since before you attempted your merry little escape, there was a small chance you would potentially survive.  Now, however, I have no more patience.”

SNAP!

Mrs. Larson let go of the red thong as the band slapped back into place and the foreboding cheeks wobbled together once more, sealing off her anus. 

My exit...

Between those cheeks lay a doorway that would mark me leaving the body of Mrs. Larson.  I wiggled my toes and felt my legs and feet surge with pain.  No more running for me. I guess this was it.  Forceful fingers now dug into me, all semblance of being gentle gone.  Once more my body surged upwards, but instead halted early as I was brought level with Mrs. Larson's abdomen. 

"I would be lying if I said I didn’t get some joy from enacting these challenges for my athletes.  It's a win win after all.  Either I produce record breaking athletes who accomplish my trials and thus see me as a god, or I get a delicious, tasty meal and dispose of students who are worthless. Oh, and if you were at all curious, the endurance challenge is a battle against none other than my gut."

Her hand swiftly pressed my aching body into her rounded belly.

GRRRRMMMMM GRLRLR!

"But my gut has never lost."

Mrs. Larson let loose a sadistic laugh, bringing me upwards to bear witness to her maw in the process.  Slick red walls vibrated with each laugh, the arches of her tonsils far in the back of her mouth flexed with each exhalation.  Her uvula danced up and down, guarding the black depths from which the sound resonated.

"Goodbye Sam, let it be known I did have a small fragment of hope for you in accomplishing the swimming challenge. I thought you could have been a fine athlete.  Either way, Bon Appetite!"

I was swiftly slammed into her outstretched tongue, curling back rapidly to lock me within her dreaded maw.  It appeared Mrs. Larson did not take my disobedience too kindly, as she was intent on consuming me quickly and efficiently.  The teeth behind me clacked shut and her tongue curled beneath, rolling my weary body up, drawing it closer to her esophagus.  Stalactites of saliva dripped off the ribbed ceiling of her mouth, a dollop of goop dripping down onto my head, nearly suffocating me in the mire of her mucous.  Even at this scale, her spit could threaten to drown me. 

Slowly, the back of her tongue loomed closer.  Bumpy ridges marked the precipice between me and the entrance to Mrs. Larson's digestive tract.  I gazed below in morbid fascination as a fleshy flap of skin wooshed open periodically as her mighty body took in air with each breath.  Her whole system, such an imposing being.  Every micro motion of her body worked together in seamless unison, and yet at my scale, it all seemed like the machinations of a dire machine bent on destroying me.  The tongue then unfurled as I slowly began to slip from its grasp closer and closer to that fetid hole.  

"MMMMHHHMMMMHMMMMM."

The throat briefly arched as small puffs of air punctuated Mrs. Larson's chuckle.  She was going to let me fall into her esophagus, knowing that I had no strength left within my being to claw my way back out. Dejected, defeated, I tried to reach a shacky arm to cling to the ridges on the back of her tongue in one last act of defiance. 

"HMMMMMM?"

I wouldn’t give up so easily, as my other hand grasped at the bumps. 

I am not falling down there...

I kicked back with my feet weakly at her pharynx in one last act of rebelliousness.  The hole sputtered briefly as Mrs. Larson began to cough. 

"MMM!"

Light briefly filled my chamber. 

Hope? No.

That same crimson digit greeted my eyes as Mrs. Larson stuck her finger into the back of her mouth.  With unbearable pressure, her finger pushed atop my head, causing me to slip off my hand hold and slide downwards.  Fearing that I may be caught within her windpipe, the small flap of skin swiftly closed.  My feet then stopped at the entrance to her esophagus.  The smooth corridor of pink flesh held closed for a brief moment and then.

GLLLLLLRRRKKKK!

It widened in an instant, gaping open to accept my form entirely as I fell past my last bastion of hope.  Then a sudden stop. 

GLLRRKKK!

Another swallow as the esophagus began to knead my body downwards in peristaltic motions. 

TH THMP TH THMP TH THMP!

Mrs. Larson's interior sounds beat against my form in rhythmic motions, proving yet again just how insignificant I was to the overall functions of her body. 

A few seconds passed as I heard another fainter, wetter, swallow higher above.  A deluge of strawberry scented liquid rushed past me as I assumed Mrs. Larson took a quick sip of juice to wash me down. This proved to hasten my descent, as I soon felt my feet hit a muscular ring.  With crushing force, her cardiac sphincter spread across my body, ushering me into the stomach.  Another brief freefall and then a surge of liquid rushed up to encompass me.

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GRUUURLLRLRG.

The symphony of Mrs. Larson's stomach greeted my ears as I breached the surface of the strawberry juice lake.

I guess I got to swim after all.

Yet this pool was filled to the brim with noxious gas and tingling liquid that threatened my very being.  Treading water with my last bits of energy, I tried to orient myself.  Peering about through squinted eyes, I could faintly make out the details of Mrs. Larsons stomach, the chamber that was now my world.  Strong ribbed lines, her stomach folds, stretched and molded to slowly breakdown and knead anything nearby.  Its surface oozed a bubbly clear liquid, stomach acid I presumed. For now, I would tread in the center of this pool, lest I get caught up in one of those ridges and break a bone.  High at the top, a pulsating knot of muscle, the cardiac sphincter, periodically let in small surges of liquid.

She was still drinking...

I noticed small bits of strawberry pieces floating about in the pool too, sizzling as they were broken down into unrecognizable bits. I wondered how long my body would last. Strangely, my suit stayed mostly intact, and even before, during Mrs. Larson’s belch, Jacklyn’s suit was ripped yet bore no semblance of degeneration. Suddenly, the walls caved in on one side and the sphincter above opened wide as my ears popped and air rushed past me.

PAT PAT PAT…BRAAAARP!

"Excuse me!"

The air around me became more concentrated, as I struggled to catch my breath.  If she continued to burp like that and let out all my oxygen, I surely wouldn’t last long.  My legs were also beginning to tire. 

Sink...Surrender...Consumed...

Words of defeat and sorrow rang in my mind, taking on the tone of Mrs. Larson’s words. I could just imagine her now, reclined, sipping her drink, an idle hand resting upon her belly. A picturesque sight of beauty for any onlooker, yet within that stomach was ME on the edge of defeat. I gasped for air; my lungs now saturated with caustic gas. I slowed down my breathing. If there was one thing I was good at with swimming, it was holding my breath. I may not have been the fastest, but I could surely endure when it really counted. 

I felt a slight current beneath me, as I noticed some of the fluid draining below past another sphincter.  The pyloric valve, the one that lead deeper into Mrs. Larson's depths. I eyed the other sphincter high above me, out of reach by a long stretch. But below, if I could just hold my breath long enough, maybe I would have a better chance there. It was worth a shot, since staying in her stomach any longer surely meant dissolving away into nothing but nutrients for my maniacal coach. I exhaled deeply, calmed my beating heart, and took three quick breaths to fill my lungs with the final bit of oxygen remaining in this heaving sack.

Plunging downwards, I closed my eyes, kicking as hard as I could, pulling myself further into the depths of the strawberry juice lake.  Feeling around, my hands contacted the opening and closing valve.  My chest was angrily telling me to breathe, to open my airways and take in fresh oxygen.

No, I must keep pushing. 

With reckless abandon, I pulled myself into the contracting sphincter.  Then, pressure along my abdomen. 

I’m stuck.

The sphincter had closed around my midsection and refused to open back up. My tiny form was being crushed on a microscopic scale by the imposing goddess. The mere absent-minded functions of her body were now proving to be my doom. I pulled desperately, attempting to get through to the other side, and even struggled to double back. But ultimately, no luck. My head started to grow foggy, my limbs began to tingle from lack of oxygen. I fell limp as my body began to shut down. The last thing I remember, was darkness before I faded into the abyss...

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A thousand hands clawed at my form, rushing rivers battered my body, undulations on a tectonic scale pushed and pulled. A world of hazy pink, the beating cacophony of a massive drum.

THMP THMP THMP THMP!

GRLM....

I opened my eyes, the ground beneath me was supple and warm. 

I lived...I endured...How?

My suit was torn in spots here and there but otherwise unscathed. The collar also glowed a subtle blue. As I breathed in and out, the glow faded and brightened in tandem with my breath. My extremities were bright red, yet my vitals beneath the suit were unscathed by the harmful acids. Seems like the suit wasn’t meant to harm me, but instead keep me alive. I wearily chuckled to myself as the realization set in. I fell right into her trap, fear, no Mrs. Larson, consumed me fully.

Would I still fail? Was she mad because I jumped off the chair and nearly broke my neck? And also, why on earth did she taunt me with her asshole?!

All these thoughts swirled in my head as I was interrupted by another gurgle, yet these sounds differed from her stomach. The noises of her large intestine, the tube that I now found myself in, took on a deeper more bassy tone. 

GRMMMM, WOOOSH!

From behind me, fetid air billowed past swirling my hair as it traveled along the organic path lower. 

Asshole... Thats right, my exit. HAH! She really meant it. Was Mrs. Larson foreshadowing that I wouldn’t die ultimately within her gut?

FRRRPRPPP!

Deep below me, Mrs. Larsons body answered for me. It appeared my time here was fleeting.  Over the course of the next couple hours, I trudged along the depths of Mrs. Larson's large intestine.  Gooey slime held tight to the walls, slowly being absorbed into the large intestine as her body extracted moisture from past meals. I periodically dodged any unmentionable "objects" along my way and eventually found myself in her colon. The walls here took on a deeper red tone. The air lingered with that same earthy mixture I had smelt whilst on the other side of the pinched wall of muscle that now lay before me. Suddenly, my world shifted, and I found myself falling downwards towards that very hole. Mrs. Larson was walking. 

"Finally awake I see; did you have a good rest? I surely did. It’s the day after by the way, you spent the whole evening clamoring about in my insides, training albeit, and presumably gripped by despair!"

Her words, although muffled, resounded high above. I blushed, knowing that I fell right into her trap. 

"You made things difficult for me Sam."

Mrs. Larson grunted as the ring in front of me opened briefly to let out the trapped air within. A brief glimpse of light, before her anus closed quickly shut.

FRAAARPP!

"I considered failing you right on the spot after your reckless antics! But I know you have determination within you yet. I will offer you one last, final trial. Simply put, make it to the surface without passing out, and you get to stay on the team."

Make it to the surface? What did she mean by that?

BMP BMP BMP BMP!

Abruptly, my world began to shake. Mrs. Larson was running. Then, inertia, as I floated briefly and then slammed face first into the supple wall of her asshole flesh. 

SPLLSHHH!

Water?

She must have dived into the pool. The walls of her colon clenched hard around my body and swiftly, I was pushed outwards into the blue light of the outer world. But instead of cool breathable air, I was bombarded with a rushing deluge of cold chlorinated water. 

FRP!

Shimmering pale white walls encased me on either side, and behind me, a small stream of bubbles flowed from the opening and closing anus. Mrs. Larson's asshole then sealed shut. 

My exit.

My eyes lingered on that tight hole for a moment and then the situation dawned upon me. The monolithic butt of Mrs. Larson pulled away, and my body was thrown about in a rushing whirlpool of moving aquatic streams. Slowly, the kraken like form of my coach rested at the body of the pool in a squatting position. Staring at my tiny form, she pointed with one finger upwards towards the surface. 

Without hesitating, I kicked with all my might and pulled once more upwards towards the light. I had come so far at this point; I wouldn’t fail here. The surface had to be at least 100 meters at my scale. A minute’s swim at my best, with breathing at that.

No, this was do or die, sink or swim! 

I was making good progress, and was about halfway there, when bubbles started to surge around me.  Staring downwards, I nearly gasped as I saw the gaping maw of Mrs. Larson surging up beneath me.  My heart leaped in my chest as the jaws of the kraken yawned open to send me once more into the belly of the beast. I could feel the cool water of the pool replaced by the warmth radiating from Mrs. Larson's maw. Then I saw rows of teeth at my side, slowly closing inwards to seal me within her mouth.

No, I would not let fear get the best of me now. 

Thinking swiftly, I grabbed at the bottom row of Mrs. Larsons lower incisors and pulled myself upwards, using the momentum of her own movement to propel me up even faster.  With a firm grip, I lurched above the row of teeth as I heard a snap behind me, the jaws sealing closed.  I then kicked off her clenched teeth and breached the surface.  Droplets of water splashed around my airborne form, propelled by the upwards movement of Mrs. Larson kicking off the bottom of the pool. I soared briefly through the air and landed not in the water, but in the palm of Mrs. Larson’s hand.  Gasping for breath, I couldn’t help but smile at my victory.

"With the jaws of defeat looming just behind you, you instead overcame impossible odds Sam."

Mrs. Larson grinned widely, showing off the teeth that nearly caught me. 

"Well done, you passed the Sink Trials and have earned your place on the team. Although my methods are ’unconventional’ as you may have noticed, my ways always work and produce the strongest athletes."

I had to agree, the Sink Trial really put my determination, above all else, to the test.

Maybe that’s what I really needed all along.

Looking about, I turned my head towards the poolside as I noticed Jacklyn and a couple of my other teammates lounging by the poolside sipping cool refreshing drinks, all now fully sized. 

"Now let’s get you resized and with a drink of your own, you earned it. And don’t think your trials have ended just yet, now that you know my secrets, the real team training begins.

Mrs. Larson smiled wolfishly as my mind began to race with the possibilities of her “unique" training methods that lay in my near future. But hey, at least I made the team.