You sit, feeling the restless squirmimg beneath your skin. A deep, watery gurgle rolls through your middle, followed by a rising pressure that forces a heavy, satisfied belch past your lips.
"I-- I think your stomach is digesting me," the prey in your gut says.
"That wasnβt digestion," you say, as if stating an obvious fact. "Just, you knowβ¦.. ambient stomach stuff. Just gurgles"
the muffled voice, weakening yet urgent, pipes up again. "That is literally digestion!"
The warmth in your gut has been steadily increasing, radiating outward. You feel the hotness under your hand. Its pleasant, to you.
"I can feel it!" the voice stammers. "Itβs hotβtoo hot! And everythingβs getting tighter! Andβugh, your stomachβs squeezing me!"
You pat the rising and falling swell of your midsection, utterly nonchalant.
"You are quite large for my stomach, that's why its so snug in there for you."
The prey tries to push at their enclosure, not to much avail; your body reacts before you can even think about itβtightening, squishing them down into the thick, sludgy heat. A concerning, gloppy noise follows. You feel a flutter in your chest.
you sigh happily, stretching out, pushing out your abdomen and admiring how your prey looks inside it.
"Nothing to worry about-" You begin to mutter, until you interrupt yourself with a sudden, forceful belch. As if your stomach was sick of having so much air inside of it.
"Oh my god, its getting even tighter-"
You stifle another burp, belly sloshing as you shift, fingers idly rubbing over the firm dome of your stomach. "You're making a big deal out of nothing," you say, utterly unbothered. "You're fine."
You yawn, rubbing slow circles over the warm curve of your belly.
"Youβre just panicking," you say, tilting your head. "You're getting worked up over nothing."
Your prey says something in response, but you cant make it out
A thick, lazy gurgle rolls through your middle, vibrating against your palm as you absintmindedly rub your tummy.
"Soβ" Their breath hitches. "So when are you letting me out?"
That does give you pause.
"I dunno," you say, voice distant, thoughtful. Pondering the question. "Couple more minutes, maybe?"
The prey doesnt like the vagueness of your answer.
"You're overthinking things again," you purr, giving your belly a slow, satisfied pat. "Just chill, okay? Youβre fine." You yawn. "Don't worry about it."
