#teasing pred

I idle-mindedly tap my pencil, looking over the plans I’ve written. “Nothing seems right here.”

“What’cha doing?” Echo asks, floating by and wrapping the lower half of her pale ghost form around my waist. “Boring science stuff?”

“Yes,” I sigh, biting my lip to hide how much I enjoy her comfort. (I don't want to give her the satisfaction of teasing me.) “I want to figure out what happens when a soul possesses something. Is it full control? Partial? Can they feel anything?”

“Don’t you have that golem?”

“Homunculi,” I correct. “And her name is Sirfris. She can’t fully feel through her limbs, but she’s just one. I need a larger sample size, but unfortunately, we don’t have enough ghosts.”

“And just how will drawing out in your notebook help with that?”

“They’re just sketches for automata,” I answer. “But each time I keep looking into them, and adding those parts to Sirfris, they just feel like they have no feeling.”

“What about something softer?” Echo proposes. “We’ve got a couple of spare plushies from the princess.”

“Perfect!” I answer, getting up. “Time to test the theory if fluffy stuff provides a better touch sensation!” We march our way to the room, widely opening the door to see plushes of all sorts of sizes – some a bit larger than me, others smaller. “So, just pick one to possess then.”

“Roger roger,” Echo says, floating into one of the dolls – a human-sized teddy bear with white fur, still somehow pristine. Now coated with a pale blue aura, it stands on its hind legs like any regular bipedal animal. “Ah, never gets old,” she claims, sighing with some sort of interest.”

“Well, any feeling?” I ask, setting down a toolbox I had brought with me. I touch the palm with a sharp screwdriver, lightly prodding at it. 

The bear merely shakes its head. “Nope, nothing.”

“Tch,” I sigh.

“Well, there is another way to test this.”

“And what would that be?” I ask, turning around.

Only to be met with a large plushy open maw.

“WAIT-” I cry out, only for my head to be covered with darkness. With little effort and a simple flourish, I’m left floundering in the air, legs kicking out. There’s no throat, but the pull of gravity is enough to pull me down the teddy’s throat. I fall face first into some soft plush, light peering out from the worn out seams. I pound at the chest, only to be yanked back and left with pale white stuffing surrounding my body and limbs. “REALLY ECHO?!”

“I dunno what you’re talking about,” she teases, reaching a paw that pushes at the bottom of the chest and raises me up. “I mean, you did walk into this.”

“Yeah,” I scream, “Because I thought you wouldn’t immediately devour me!”

“Well, skill issue,” she answers as I start trying to climb out. However, plush starts pulling down at my dress and drags me back into this not-stomach. “Oh no,” she starts. “You’re staying down here.”

“Ugh,” I groan, even if the stuffing starts to feel like a blanket the way it collects onto my limbs and shoulders. “Just let me out, I have work to do!”

“As fun as this is,” she asserts, “You haven’t slept for what, more than 6 hours?”

“5 actually.”

“Not helping. So, you’re staying here.”

“Ugh,” I groan, crossing my arms. “Fine,” I admit. “I wish this was warmer, but-”

“Oh I can help with that,” Echo answers, the blue aura now stronger around the fluff. 

Before I can blink, I’m smothered by the fluff that overtakes me. It begins to heat as a coil wraps around me, making it all start to feel warm and comforting. Much like Sirfris’s stomach… 

“That’s good,” I admit to my own chagrin.

“See? So just get reasonable sleep, and-”

“Fine,” I sigh. “Just grab me my toolkit. It’s got a pillow in it.”

“Alright then.” Echo moves the bear, each limb slowly moving as it then grabs the toolkit. With another fluid motion, it swallows the kit that then falls down. “There you go.”

“You fool,” I tease, opening it to find some proper Pain Sensors.

“Oh,” she realizes.

I stab a few metal bits into parts of the stomach, waiting for a reaction. The plush pauses, then seeming to look over its arms.

“Echo?”

“Woah, I can… feel,” she answers. “It’s not a strong feeling, but it’s there.”

Plush again starts to wrap around me, even starting to cushion my hair. I slow my breathing, taking the moment to enjoy each slow press, each little bump as my back and stomach are pummelled by so many small specks.

“I can feel you,” she continues, spectral arms now curling around me. “You’re a bit cold, but there.”

“So it did work,” I remark. “That’s good then. We’ll still need more subjects though.”

“And how will you catch them?” she asks, playfully manifesting her face in front of me. 

“Like this!” I answer, opening my mouth wide and clamping down on her spectral head as my teeth find their mark. She struggles as she’s slurped down, the plush falling down as I finish consuming this feisty ghost now pounding at my stomach walls.

“Oh come on!” she cries out.

“So, what have we learned about forcibly consuming someone?” I ask, rubbing over as more tremors start to form.

“That it’s an amazing feeling!” she answers.

“We ask for consent,” I answer, sighing as I open my mouth wide, her spectral form floating out.

“Oh, and what about that plan of capturing ghosts Ms. Ghostbuster? A lot of consent is involved there, isn’t it?”

“Of course I wouldn’t use that,” I scoff. “I’d just politely talk to them, nothing more.”

“Urgh, of course your goody-two-shoes self would do that. The things I’d do to you…”

“Oh?” I prod, smirking as I pull her in the pile of fluff. “Prove it,” I answer. “Prove you’re more bark than bite.”

“Come out, come out, wherever you are~! I’ll find you soon enough, poppet~!”

You gulped and crouched down more, trying to curl up as tightly as possible within the shadows. Damn it all…this was your fault. The Manor was divided into two halves; one for the Survivors, and one for the Hunters. Being quite the curious soul, you’d wanted to explore the Hunters’ half. The door there was locked, but there was a crack that was big enough for someone shrunken to pass through.

It had taken some effort to convince Kurt to let you borrow Gulliver’s Travels from him, but soon you were carefully holding the book. Reading only a few words had reduced you to the size of a lilliputian, able to slip past the door. It was quite gloomy on the other side, which you’d admittedly expected. And it had been quite harrowing keeping any Hunters from seeing you scurry about.

Unfortunately, you had eventually been spotted by none other than Jack. A charming, if somewhat awkward gentleman much of the time, but also an eerily calm sadist who delighted in the fear of his prey. The man could go from proper to sinister at the drop of a hat, and that’s just what happened as he pursued you. He’d chased you under a door, right into his bedroom. All you could do was crouch behind tins of paint and containers with brushes, praying that he’d lose interest. To make matters worse, you’d dropped the book in your haste.

“Oh poppet, there’s no need to be scared! I only want to play a little,” he called before chuckling. “You know what they say. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy~!” That low, gleeful edge to his tone sent chills through you. He was already a fiend when hunting you down in the Manor “games”, but this was far worse. At least if you were sent off on a rocket chair or “died”, you’d wake up back at the Manor as if nothing had happened.

Now you were utterly trapped; you couldn’t leave without the book! Not only would you be stuck like this for god knows how long, but Kurt would never forgive you! You couldn’t outrun Jack either…who knows what he’d do with you, or if you’d come back from it. You were left to stew in your fear; dread weighed down on you, only to vanish as a paint tin was pulled away.

“Ahh, there you are…~” Jack smirked and reached for you. Your heart practically burst out of your chest, your insides seizing. You had absolutely no hope of escape from the mad painter. Your muscles refused to cooperate as he grabbed you up. With his tall, lanky stature, it would be impossible to land safely.

“No, no, no! Let me go!!” you cried, struggling within his grasp. Jack held you up close, smirking and giving you a good view of his pearly whites. He was admittedly handsome in his current form-nicely sculpted face, tousled silver hair that covered his eyes, and a nicely tailored suit complete with a fancy black top hat. Definitely more pleasant than the horribly pale, faceless, jagged-mouthed, fog creature he often appeared as, but it did little to ease your terror.

“My oh my, you’re much cuter than that Explorer!” he exclaimed. “Speaking of, did you happen to be looking for this?” Jack raised his other hand, showing you the special copy of Gulliver’s Travels held between his fingertips. You gasped and scrambled for it, but it may as well have been a mile away. Jack shook his head and tucked the book into his pocket.

Your blood ran cold as you found yourself completely at the Ripper’s mercy. He was gentle at the moment, carefully rubbing your head with his index finger. It didn’t feel so bad…but you weren’t trusting him. Jack chuckled at your scared little face, watching you tremble as he brought you up to his mouth. His soft lips pressed against your head in a careful kiss, making you blush…but then the tip of his tongue lapped up your cheek. You immediately pulled away, looking up with wide eyes. Had he really just…?

“Awww, don’t tremble so much, luv! I only want to give you a little taste~!” You were given a close view of Jack’s charming grin…and his oddly long, pink tongue sliding across his lips. Warm breath washed over you as his warm, wet tongue laved along your front, each taste bud dragging over you. Jack licked you again and again, humming in delight at your taste. A soft sigh escaped him as he finally relented.

You whined and wiped your hand along your face, attempting to get at least some of the thick slime away. This proved useless as Jack gave you another two licks. You were able to catch a glimpse of his silver eyes underneath his messy hair. There was a teasing mirth in his eyes…but also a hint of hunger.

“Something wrong, poppet? Perhaps you’re realizing just how…appetizing you are?” A sick sinking feeling gripped your innards as it hit you. He was going to eat you.

“How could you be so cruel?!” you yelled. Jack gasped, holding his cheek in mock hurt.

“Oh luv, I’m not that bad! You’re lucky to have met me instead of some of my fellow Hunters,” he remarked. “Luchino might have experimented on you or used you as reptile feed. Joseph might have trapped your adorable self in a photo. Ann’s cat could have nabbed you, the less said about Yidhra, the better…but I’m sure many of them might have just done what I’m about to…”

You watched with wide eyes as Jack dangled you over his mouth. Warmth drifted up like steam as he exhaled, playfully snapping his teeth at your feet. You squeaked and pulled your feet away, not putting it past him to try biting you apart. Although, you quickly realized that it might be better than possibly being digested alive.

Jack slipped your legs onto his tongue, suckling and soaking you in saliva. His lips crept up your body, engulfing your hips, belly, and chest. You shook your head, quietly pleaded, but he only chuckled as he slurped you in. The Ripper’s tongue slathered spit all over you, happily tasting you. It swished you around, stroked along your form, pressed you against the soft inside of his cheeks.

You hissed in disgust, barely able to wriggle much inside his mouth. Jack’s tongue was relentless, keeping you trapped. Not like you could manage to pry open his teeth anyways. You weren’t escaping-that was cemented as Jack tilted his head back, pushing you backwards. Your eyes widened in horror as your feet slipped into the abyss of his throat.

“No, no! Don’t swallow!” you cried. You clawed at his tongue, but it was too slippery to give any purchase. The painter’s throat squeezed around your legs, threatening to pull you downward. Jack opened his mouth, taunting you with a last look at the world. With his teeth framing your view of his room, he gulped, pulling you into his gullet up to your waist. One more swallow sent you down, the light slipping from your view.

Jack’s gullet was tight, squeezing around you in a steady rhythm. You grimaced at the feeling, and an additional pressure. Jack was pressing a finger along the bulge traveling down his throat, delighted little hums vibrating around you. Of course the hunter would delight in your suffering-you were just a mouthful to him, nothing more than a snack for the cruel gentleman.

“Mmmh~…That’s it, slip on down, luv. You’re doing good…~” he cooed in a tone that might have been soothing. You whined as you were pushed deeper into his body, briefly stopping at a particularly tight squeeze. Just as you feared that you would burst, you slipped past the sphincter and landed within his stomach. It groaned around you, briefly squeezing as it determined the size of its new occupant.

You couldn’t believe it-you’d just been eaten. Jack had gobbled you up as easily as he would a tea cake or a slice of ham. You’d reluctantly gotten used to being prey for hunters, but never in the sense of actually being eaten! The air was humid, there wasn’t a speck of light-not like there’d be much to see-and every surface was slimy, slippery, and squishy. As you moved around, trying to get your bearings, the stomach squeezed around you. Jack let out a rather impolite belch a moment later.

“Oh, pardon me!” he exclaimed. “I must say, you’re more filling than I thought! And you feel so nice…I don’t think I’ll need to eat again until dinner!” A chill ran through you at the thought of your fate. You tried to sit up, only to be squished down again as Jack rubbed his belly.

Dread pooled within you again as you desperately felt around. There were only two ways out of Jack’s stomach, and you’d sooner take a flare gun shot to the face than take the lower route. Trying to pry at the throat entrance proved useless. It was too tight, only drawing a few giggles from your captor.

“Don’t fight too much, now! Or do, it feels so wonderfully ticklish,” Jack said. “You fit so perfectly, luv, almost like this was meant to be.” You were about to protest, only to hear the door open. Jack looked up to find Joseph standing there, his bright, pure blue eyes lidded in slight unamusement. “Why, good day! Have I been bothering you, Mr. Desaulniers?” he asked sweetly.

“You’ve been causing an awful racket,” Joseph said. “Anyways, the others want to know if you’re coming down for lunch.” Jack smiled, briefly muffling another burp.

“No thanks, Chap. I just ate.” Jack licked his lips, smirking as if he planned to have the Frenchman for dessert. Joseph grimaced, swiftly leaving the room. He’d never known that a Survivor had snuck into his territory, much less been gulped down whole by a fellow Hunter.

That little interaction brought a horrible realization. No one would know what had happened to you. Kurt would have an idea, but the others would only truly know if Jack taunted them with your fate. Is this really how you’d be remembered? A curious little fool who’d become a snack for a monstrous Englishman? Tears started to brim in your eyes.

“J-Jack, please, come to your senses…” you pleaded. “I don’t want to die in here!” That actually made the Ripper pause…then he chuckled warmly.

“Die?” He said. “Oh sweetheart, no one is allowed to die here! This has already happened a few times before you arrived. I assure you, the reformers work just as well with digestion as they do with bleeding out. It won’t be your end.” That…was quite a shock. You sat there in the gurgling darkness for a good moment.

“You…you mean it? I’m going to be fine?” You asked. Jack gave an affirmative hum.

“Cross my heart, or what’s left of it. I was actually planning to spit you out at some point this time.” He replied.

A wave of relief washed over you. You were still trapped in a Hunter’s guts and soaked in slime, but at least your story wouldn’t end within the churning depths of his belly.

“Of course, I could digest you if you wanted, let you revive later. You’d look lovely on my hips, dear.” Jack said. That brought a new bout of squirming and yelling from you. He laughed and patted you again. “Alright, I won’t! But do get cozy; it’ll be a few hours before I let you back out.”

You carefully nestled into the folds along his stomach walls. While Jack went about his business outside, you listened to the inner workings of his body. Up above was his somewhat erratic heartbeat, the rush of air through his lungs, and content humming. Below was the low groaning of his intestines, and you could almost imagine the sound of his blood flow. As gross as this should have felt, it was oddly relaxing now. Soothing, even.

You lifted a hand to your snug belly, rubbing gently as it strained slightly against your shirt. Rarely did you get the chance to really indulge like this, but when you did, it always felt fantastic~ But as you admire just how warm and sleepily full you feel, you spot a movement on the table out of the corner of your eye. You zero in on it immediately, squinting and reaching out.

Another tiny, one that thought that it could hide behind your drink, squawked a startled noise as your fingers wrapped around it. Drawing it out of hiding, you grinned lazily at the smaller figure. "Well, look at this!" you remarked, watching the small figure squirm with a terrified whine, "I seem to have missed some leftovers."

You peered at the tiny, noting their smaller features as they quaked in your grip. Apparently their voice had left them in their panic, just sitting and shivering against your palm. They froze up as they met your gaze, their mouth dropping open with either a noiseless gasp or a silent scream. It was enough to make you chuckle, lifting a finger to toy with their head carelessly. "I suppose you thought you were lucky, that you thought you would get away," you commented.

A loud grumbling growl rose from your belly, the tiny figure in your hand flinching heavily at the sound. You laughed once more, your free hand falling to your tummy to feel of the renewed wriggling inside. "But, you might be a bit lucky tonight," you murmured, tilting your hand back and forth slowly as you smile, "I'm feeling pretty full right now with all of the other little ones, I'm not even sure if I'll fit you." A terrible idea fluttered into your mind and your grin turned sharp. Your hand turned, lowering with the other as the tiny squeaked. You pressed them flush with your full belly. "See?"

The tiny went stock-still when you did so, freezing up like a deer in headlights. Their face went pale, their breathing turned erratic. You watched their face with idle interest, noting their panic and fear. You couldn't be sure what was going through their mind, nor what they were experiencing. Did they feel the wriggling of their similar-sized companions through the walls of your belly? Could they hear the cries inside, or were the sounds of your stomach too deafening from that distance to let anything else be heard? What type of existential crisis might they be having?

When you thought that they probably had enough, you plucked them back up from your tummy and into your fist again. They were trembling triple-fold now, staring beyond you like they'd seen a ghost. It was actually pretty amusing, really. That grin never left your face as your fingers gently prodded their chest. "I may have out-done myself," you admitted casually to your captive audience, "Normally, I'm very bad at judging how much food I want. And I always end up wanting more..."

You patted your stomach gently, feeling it rumble softly beneath your fingers. You rested your free hand there again, idly rubbing and pressing at the shifting contents. "But perhaps, I finally got it right this time," you murmured just before a low grumble issued under your hand. A rattling belch worked free suddenly, relieving a bit of pressure. "Ooofff, I guess I needed that," you spoke more to yourself.

But then, you realized slowly as you worked your fingers against your heavy middle, that burp had freed up just enough space... You turned that leering grin down to your shell-shocked captive. "Well, now I appear to have more room," you told them, lifting them closer to your face.

The movement and your words worked together to shock the tiny into reacting. Their squirming doubled from before, their eyes wide with realization and terror. "N-N- N-Nuh-No!" they finally spoke in a whisper, their voice so small that you had to strain to hear it over your active tummy, "P-Puh-Please! Please!!"

Oh, NOW they were finally begging? It took them long enough. But you weren't feeling too lenient at this moment, particularly after they failed to uphold their end of your nice little conversation with them. Besides, they were so boring, with the typical pleas. 'No!' 'Please!' 'Don't eat me!' You'd heard that all before.