If the prey had been struggling, the pred could have easily forced them into submission.
But that didnt happen did it
The prey moved to stroke the lesser curve of their stomach, and the pred had sensations all up their spine and down their legs. At the base of their skull, on the top of the head.
The faint drag of fingernails. Gentle circular rubs.
The preds toes curled. Eyes closed. Lost in the ecstasy of being rubbed from the inside.
The predators world narrowed to the confines of their belly. That sphere was the entire world. Everything else was static, white noise, unimportant. Irrelevant.
The only thing that mattered was the rich tactile realm beneath the thick skin of their gut.
Inside the prey could feel the trickling of acid. It kissed their arms in a gentle burn. The stomach they occupied was eager to digest them. So it went. It was a warning, of things to come. The prey was largely unbothered. Still they had no more time to waste. Their fingers slipped lower.
They heard the predator gasp. The second sphincter. The entrance to the intestines.
The prey was unbothered by the acids pooling around their body
They traced, teased, bothered, feeling the predators body react as they pushed on the seam that was the pyloric valve, as if coaxing it to open.
The predator felt in disarray. Exposed and changed.
"Please-" they dont know why they said it. They couldnt believe they said it. And what were they even asking for?
Only... they wanted something didnt they.... they wanted for it to continue
A sheen of sweat formed on their brow.
they could feel digestion beginning in earnest. They were overheated. Glands of their stomach secreted digestive fluids. Muscles moved in digestive rhythm.
the prey was busy. Each time their prey fingers found that firm strong ring of muscle, the stomach spasmed. Pressure, it caused a twitch, as the organ became more confused as to what to do
Light pressure, a patient pause. A beat. A soft rub, then release.
The pred's heart stuttered, fluttering, a trapped butterfly. They were done for. They could hear the pumping of blood in their ears.
The valve pulsed. Reacting to careful minstrations of the prey. It felt wrong. . But.......
The prey kneaded the ring of muscle, helping it relax
The pred panted, trembled, thighs weak, toes curled.
They suddenly had a thought. That this was the best meal theyd ever had.
The stomach groaned. Acids lapping at the preys body, higher, rising with every minute.
The prey didnt care, digestion hardly mattered at this stage. This was about the predator now, the prey had places in the body that needed their attending. And they could too feel the predators heartrate rising.
The predator moaned, head tilted back, mouth parted to expose sharp teeth
Their gut roiled hungerily as digestion steamed on ahead. They were already so full, an evening of digestion would have done them just fine.
But now they were so tender all over. Stomach juices more than flowing.
A final rub on the pyloric valve. Gentle and patient and caring. Muscles there tightened first instictively. And then, finally, at last, reluctantly opened.
So it gave -- open, much too soon for this stage of digestion. The stomach clenched on the preys body as the valve slipped ajar.
Fingers, then, sliding through.
The pred made a noise. It was raw and it was cracked. Shock and confusion and curiosity informed it, and pleasure shot through their spine.
A hand flew to the underside of their gut, as if to better feel the transition.
Momenta ago, with no discussion beforehand
Had now just put their hand through and into the preds intestine. They could feel it.
The prey started to stroke it, their thin delicate intestinal wall lined with vili. Was being stroked.
The organ was meant to absorb, not be handled. And yet figers glided carefully across the duodendum.
The predator bit back a yell or a squeal they didnt know what it was. Their body locked tense.
Their stomach growled, low and hungry
The prey could feel the tight ring of muscle flex and squeeze at their arm, likely attempting to suck them into the intestine, as was its duty.
After all why else would the poor thing be open? If not for the next stage of digestion? The prey smirked. How cute. But no.
The prey could hear the pred swear and curse as they rubbed the intestine.
Fingers of theirs danced, tickled. Teased.
"oh my god-" the lrey could hear whining, strangled and strained in disbelief. Horrified, scared, in awe.
"Shit, shit, shit, dont--"
"Ill let you out-- please--"
The prey noticed an apologetic rub from the outside of the belly.
They felt the pyloric valve thrumming over their arm, stretched, digestive reflex still trying to gulp them down into it. Trying in earnest to do its job.
The prey drahhed fingernails along the grain of the intestine. Peristalsis was all around them. The last touches were barely there, feather light, along the soft walls, gliding over trembling vili, tracing a pattern much like their signature, before retracting. They gave the predator a moment to recover.
they lay strewn across the sofa like a used t-shirt. A forgotten piece of laundry. A hand rested on their now empty belly.
Across from them - their former prey. Recently showwered, ever so slightly acid tinged. Otherwise doing well, acting collected and calm.
The preds muscles ached from over use.
"Are you okay?" The prey asks
The prey smiles, apologetic, "too much?"
The pred shook their head, in disbelief of it all.
".......▪︎you were inside my intestine"
They covered their face with their hands, "that shouldnt be possible"
The prey was humble, no bragging, no teasing now.
"Youre not even phased, " the pred says
" you did most of the work"
The pred groaned, "this cannot happen again"
The pred put a pillow over their face, and muffled, through the pillow, said, "I need a week."
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