# Wake-Up Call

By: TheDragonBoy

## Content

“…Ugh…” He put a hand to his head, wearily opening his eyes.

“Good, you’re finally up.”

Alarmed, he scrambled to sit up and looked around; unsure of where he was or what was going on, and plagued by the inexplicable feeling that he was somehow in horrible danger.

“Who’s there? Where am I?!” He was surrounded by curved, glass walls, towering two or three times his height.

“Are you really up? You’re not still tired?” came the voice again. It was unmistakably feminine, but his enclosure made it hard to tell where it was coming from.

“I’m awake! Now tell me what’s going on!” he insisted.

“Good.”

He spun around and finally saw her: a girl, teenaged, now walking towards him. At first he thought the glass was somehow warping her image, because he couldn’t see her below the waist and the rest of her seemed to stretch far higher than it should. That explanation didn’t last long, though. A second later, five giant fingers wrapped around the sides of his enclosure, pressing up against the glass. He might not have believed his own eyes had he not felt the sudden weight of inertia as he was lifted up into the air.

He looked down and saw what he could now recognize as a wooden desk, a great distance below the transparent floor at his feet. With a start, he realized that the walls around him weren’t just glass, they were a glass- a cup- a giant cup. Everything was giant! No! He was-

He felt a jerk as his ascent stopped. Looking up, he found himself confronted with the girl’s massive face. She examined him with a mildly smug expression. And, strangely, she seemed a bit familiar.

“Yup, you seem ready alright,” she commented.

“Ready for what?” he asked, startled and now nervous.

“Dinner,” she said with a smirk. “I always wait for my dinner to wake up. It’s no fun if you don’t try to escape, not that you can.”

His whole body tensed up. Suddenly he could hear his heart pulsing in his ears.

“Feel free to give it a shot,” she said suggestively. “But don’t get your hopes up too high.” She flashed him a smug, teasing smile, and then he felt another jerk as his glass was lifted higher.

Stunned and struggling to process the unbelievable words he had just heard, he instinctively plastered himself against the back wall. But it did him little good, as a moment later the glass began to tilt, tipping forward and sending him falling onto his face. Looking ahead fearfully, he saw the girl’s lips line up with the rim of the glass, and then slowly part.

Revealed beyond them were her teeth, pristinely clean and white to keep up her image for school. Beyond the rows of pearly whites, her tongue came into view, rising gently in anticipation. And beyond that still, her throat: an immaculate, pink, glistening cave with smooth, fleshy, arching walls, and her uvula dangling pointedly above it all at the entrance to her gullet and the dark depths within.

The glass tilted further, and he felt himself begin to slide. His eyes went wide, his heart skipped a beat. He glanced frantically at his hands as they failed to find a hold, then quickly back at the maw below him. He was getting closer. Her tongue swelled, reaching up to catch him as he approached the edge with mounting speed.

That’s when it finally hit him.

“Madeline!?” he shouted.

The cup suddenly jerked backward, catching him just as his arms passed over the rim, leaving him hooked right on the edge. She closed her mouth and gave him another once-over, this time appearing much more inquisitive.

“Madeline Prescott?!” he repeated.

“You know me?” she asked.

“Y-Yes!” he stammered. “It’s me! Mr. Edwards!”

She raised an eyebrow, clearly drawing a blank.

“Nole Edwards! You’re in my English class!”

She eyed him a bit closer and then, to his relief, showed a look of recognition.

“Oh, yeah,” she said, wagging a finger at him. “It is you, isn’t it?”

“Yes,” he breathed.

“Huh. Who would’ve guessed they’d grab you and then you’d end up with me? Talk about irony.”

He let himself go limp against the glass, his body relaxing.

“Oh, but you’d be the first to correct me. ‘Irony’ isn’t the right word, is it? What should I have called it again, Mr. Edwards?”

Correcting her English was just about the farthest thing from his mind, but seeing as she’d asked:

“‘Coincidence’?” he offered meekly.

“Yeah, that sounds right… Well, consider that one last lesson then.”

Without any further warning, she raised the glass and reopened her mouth.

“Madeline!! Wait! No!”

She tilted the cup, her tongue sliding up over her bottom lip like his own personal red carpet, just as he felt himself begin to slide toward it.

“NO!!”

*splat*

Darkness.

He felt the hot wetness of her tongue slap against his face, forcing him to close his eyes as her lips closed around his legs. Prior to landing, his first instinct had been to fight, but now he suddenly felt himself overcome with fear. Not the fear of being eaten, though. No, it was far less defined than that. He felt the squishy muscle below him, swelling and flexing against his body, touching him everywhere, and all he felt was the instinctive urge to pull away. But of course there was nowhere to go. Instead he found himself rolling and jerking, almost involuntarily, lurching away whenever the taste buds brushed him, only to press himself further into the flesh on the opposite side. She didn’t even need to slurp up his legs, he immediately pulled himself into the tightest ball he could, yanking his feet in close, past her lips.

And that was all before she even started.

*squelch*

*squelch*

*squelch*

The tasting began. He felt the tongue roll across him, pressing him tightly as she sucked at his flavor. Then, suddenly, a lurch to one side as he was stuffed into her cheek.

*squelch*

*squelch*

*squelch*

Saliva covered every inch of his skin, soaked every fiber of his clothes, his hair was already matted down. He kept his eyes tightly shut, both from the fear and because he could feel the slime smeared across his face, not to mention the constant pestering of the girl’s tongue as she continued to taste him.

And then, on top of everything else, she spoke.

“Wow, I still can’t believe how easy this is. You’re so tiny. You couldn’t even try to stop me like this. You’re all mine.”

She was taunting him! She had the depravity to get a hold of a kidnapped, shrunken man and eat him- eat him- and she was bragging about it!? To him!? While she was doing it!!?

No.

The terror, having just given way to numbness, suddenly sparked into rage. He flailed out, striking wildly at the squishy flesh. The tongue pressed against him again and he swatted at it, punching and kicking.

He couldn’t see it, but Madeline smirked.

*slurp*

He felt himself shifted inside her mouth again, but this time was different. She had pulled him backward. A vision of the teen’s waiting mouth flashed through his mind. He lingered on the image of her throat, unavoidably picturing himself stuffed all the way in the back, just waiting to be swallowed. The image was so vivid that it managed to remind him of something.

The uvula!!

Feeling the tongue underneath him, he quickly reached upward and ran his hands awkwardly along the roof of Madeline’s mouth, desperately feeling at the various textures of slimy flesh as the walls around him began to tense in preparation. With a burst of hope, he finally found it. A loose, extra malleable blob, resting limply atop his body.

Ah-ha! he thought, and gave it a big squeeze.

*gulp*

“Ahhhh, all mine,” she breathed.

*SQELCH*

The sudden pressure from behind forced him forward, pulling the slippery uvula right out of his hands. At the same time, the flesh before him suddenly gave way, leaving him nowhere else to go but down. Down into her esophagus. Down, on a one-way trip to a place he never even thought to fear: a girl’s stomach.

It was so tight. He couldn’t struggle, he couldn’t breathe. All he could do was listen as the sound of the teen’s heartbeat grew louder, and feel as the slimy walls of her throat passed him by.

*splat*

*GASP*

Mr. Edwards flopped onto the stomach floor and took a huge breath, something he immediately came to regret. The hot, foul atmosphere flooded his airways and burned in his nose, sending him into a fit of coughing. As he forced himself to continue breathing, he felt the surrounding muscle begin to shift, slowly stretching and flexing as Madeline’s body adjusted to its new- temporary- occupant.

“Take a minute to catch your breath, I hear my air takes some getting used to,” came Madeline’s voice, much louder now. “Enjoy your trip?” she asked.

“Why *cough* didn’t you gag?” he sputtered angrily, almost unwilling to believe that his last hope had slipped so easily out of his hands.

“Oh, you tried to go for the uvula? You do realize that everything you eat hits that thing, right? It doesn’t make you puke while you’re swallowing. Man, just like the rest of them. You’d better get comfy in there.”

He heard a few thumps as she patted her chest, lightly jostling him in the process. He opened his mouth to shout a retort, but gagged on the breath and went into another fit of coughing.

“Having a hard time, huh? You sound like you could use a drink.”

He felt her move slightly and heard a muffled cracking-like sound, followed by an unmistakable *gulp*.

…

“Ah!!”

A sudden burst of cold slapped him from above, showering down on him with a sound like a heavy rain landing on wet ground. He took a deep, gasping breath out of reflex, and with it drew in a fresh, familiar scent.

“Hope you like soda,” she said in a sarcastically cheery voice.

“Argh!!” Infuriated by her teasing, he picked himself up and threw both fists against the side of his slimy prison. They landed with a comical splat, the muscular folds squishing around his hands. He lifted one and then the other, slamming them back against the wall in alternating blows.

“Are you trying to punch your way out?” she snickered, hearing his enraged grunts.

“I’ll pound you until you barf if that’s what it takes!!”

“Um, sorry to break it to you: I can’t feel a thing you’re doing- and stomachs don’t work like that,” she told him. “You’re way too weak to do any real damage at that size. Trust me, lots of people have tried. By the way, you only get so much air in there, do you really want to use it all up so fast?”

He stopped, his fists pressed against the wall, the sound of his heavy breathing suddenly very prominent in his ears.

“What’s wrong with you!!?” he yelled.

“Nothing, I’m just hungry,” she teased. “Can’t you feel how empty my belly is?”

Now that she mentioned it, there really wasn’t much in there with him; just the mouthful of soda she’d just swallowed, now mixing with a bit of leftover slop on the floor around his knees.

“I saved all this room just for- *URP*”

He felt the walls around him shudder, pushing him off onto the floor as they suddenly contracted around him, shrinking the already narrow enclosure even further.

“Oops. I should know better than to drink soda with a tiny. No point swallowing all that air for you if I just burp it back up.”

*gulp*

*gulp*

He heard a couple squelches and a gurgle and felt the walls withdraw a bit. A moment later he made out a muffled clack as she set her soda can back down on her table. The cool reprieve it had provided was already beginning to lapse.

…

“So, has it all sunk in yet?” Madeline asked, breaking the short silence. “Feel it.”

Feel what? The intense heat already swirling back in around him? The vile liquids dripping off his clothes? The squishy muscle that enveloped him like a living cage?

“Everything. Everything you feel is me. You’re mine now… You ready to become a part of it?”

“No!!” he protested.

“No? Well, too bad. I’m going to keep you right here until you digest, just like all the rest of them.”

“You think I’m some ordinary food!? Food doesn’t fight back! I’ll claw my way right back up your throat! You’re not keeping me in here!”

“Ok,” she said plainly. “Go for it.”

He furrowed his brow above his tightly shut eyes and gritted his teeth. Shooting his arm up into the air, he pressed his fingers firmly into the fleshy wall and squeezed. His fingers immediately slipped together into a fist, grabbing nothing but a fresh coat of slime.

He pushed himself onto his feet and plowed one shoe into the wall, pressing forward and down, trying to get a foothold. He slipped, stumbled forward into the squishy folds and then over onto the floor with a splat.

“Agh!!”

He got up and tried again, and again, each time with similar results.

“Having a hard time reaching my throat?” came Madeline’s teasing voice. “Here, let me help make things easier.”

*thud* *thud* *thud*

The young girl’s footsteps shook everything around him as she walked, and jostled his entire body. He felt every movement, reduced to a helpless bundle of limbs stewing at the bottom of her stomach. He heard the creak of bed springs and then his entire world turned upside down.

Well, not literally. To be honest he couldn’t quite tell exactly what had happened, but now he was sprawled out on his chest, and the muscular folds which he had used to consider the walls were now the loose floor and low-hanging ceiling of a long, narrow passage.

She laid down, he realized. The cocky little tease had put her throat right at his level. Her arrogance would give him everything he needed.

Scrambling quickly, Mr. Edwards crawled the length of the girl’s stomach, splashing through the shallow liquids until he reached the end. Feeling around, he could clearly make out the small folds of muscle as they all came together and converged to a single point: a small dimple in the wall, marking the exit of Madeline’s esophagus- his ticket out.

He flattened his palm and stuck his fingers into the spot. He made it as far as his knuckles before the slimy flesh refused to stretch any further. He pushed harder, until his fingers threatened to give way. He curled them into a fist and pressed even harder, putting as much of his body into the movement as he could. Nothing. It wasn’t budging even an inch. It just barely stretched away from him as he struggled and then gently contracted back again when he inevitably withdrew- just like every other surface in the girl’s god-forsaken stomach.

Frustrated, he splayed his fingers and put them on either side of the tiny indent, clawing at the sphincter in a desperate attempt to pry it open. He might as well have been an ant trying to pry open a balloon knot. His digits slid across the slime, unable to find the slightest grip.

“Nothing more relaxing than lying down in bed with a full belly,” Madeline announced happily.

“Damn!! Why won’t it open!?” he yelled.

“Come on. The stomach’s one job is to hold food inside while it digests. It wouldn’t be very good if it just let the food crawl back out.”

“I’m not food!!”

“Try telling that to my stomach. Either way, that sphincter is gonna stay shut to make sure all my stomach acid stays down there in my stomach, with you. And you’re gonna stay in there with it until my intestines open up to take you away. What’s left of you, that is.”

Her last words stuck with him. He heard a series of gurgles from nearby, more of her food moving along through her body, the body that was getting ready to melt him down into goo. He felt his fear mounting, maybe this really was going to be a one-way trip after all.

One-way… That’s it!

“Ha! Thanks for reminding me about the way out! Maybe I can’t make it back up your throat, but if I can make it into your intestines, your stomach acid can’t get me!” He scrambled to turn around in the baggy, narrow space and rushed back to the lower end of the girl’s belly.

“Hahahaha.” Madeline’s chest bounced with her laughter, shaking up her occupant within. “You think that you’ll be safe just by avoiding my stomach acid? I think you need to go back to biology class, Mr. Edwards. The intestines still have digestive enzymes and they’re more than enough to turn you to mush, not to mention there’s no way you’d have enough air to make it all the way through. And even if you did, you know where that leads, right? My butt. You really want to crawl out of my ass, teach?”

He stopped, thought for a second and then clenched his fists in frustration.

“Actually, I hope you do, cause you’ll come out as a nice turd once my body is done with you.”

“You’re sick, Madeline! Sick!” he yelled.

But she was right. It’d been a while since he’d been in school, but he remembered the intestines weren’t exactly short, and there probably were plenty of things that would kill him along the way. No, there was no way out. Not forward, not backward. He was stuck there, there in her stomach. He was going to end as her food…

Unless…

“You’re not getting me that easily,” he muttered angrily, loud enough for her to hear.

She had reminded him of something else, something he could just barely recall from his old biology class. The stomach digests everything- except itself.

“Oh, yeah? You have another brilliant plan?” she inquired.

“Yeah! Mucus!”

“Mucus?”

“It’s what keeps the stomach from digesting itself, it’s everywhere, I remember from high school! All I have to do is cover myself with the stuff and I’ll be acid-proof!”

“So, what? You’ll just live in my belly forever? Saying ‘hi’ to my food as it goes by?”

“It’s better than being food myself!” he retorted.

He started to rub himself against the wet, fleshy walls. He dug his digits hard into the muscle, feeling the slime against his fingertips, then wiped them against every inch of skin.

“That’s not gonna work, you know,” she told him.

But he could feel the slime covering his body. All this time rolling around in her stomach had already coated him in a decent layer, it was only a matter of spreading it over what was still untouched.

“Why should I listen to you?”

“Because the longer you last, the more fun it is for me, and whatever you’re doing in there will probably just get you digested faster.”

He didn’t reply, just kept rubbing himself with goop.

“Just think about it for a second. If stomach mucus rubbed off onto food so easily, nothing would ever get digested. It needs to stay stuck to the walls so it can protect them. All you’re doing is helping my stomach cover you in acid even faster.”

He didn’t answer, just kept bathing himself in her slime. He wasn’t about to let her trick him out of his one chance for survival.

“Need some proof?” she asked.

“I don’t want your ‘proof’!”

“If you say so. But if you really want to protect yourself, you’ll need to cover everything, even your eyes. You’ve kept them closed good and tight, right? I can tell. The ones who didn’t started screaming pretty quick. Acid in the eyes, doesn’t sound too nice, does it?”

He hesitated.

“You don’t even have to take my word for it, just think back to that ‘high school’ of yours. Pop quiz: how does acid taste?”

He thought for a moment, trying to remember his long-forgotten classes.

“Come on, anyone? How does acid taste?” she asked, mimicking how a teacher might pose a question to their class.

“Sour,” he answered, now still within his prison.

“Very good,” she acknowledged.

He raised a hand to his face, thoroughly soaked in juices.

“So, be my guest. I had a good taste of you- delicious, by the way- it’s only fair you get a taste of me. Not like you have much to lose.”

Reluctantly, he opened his mouth and brought his fingers up to his tongue.

“BLECH!”

He gagged and spat, resisting the urge to wipe his tongue, which only would have made things worse. It was disgusting, nauseating… and noticeably: sour.

He sat there on his hands and knees as a low rumble vibrated around him. He felt the slime against his skin, the substance he’d now helped spread. Maybe she was lying? Maybe the mucus was sour itself? But how would she know that? And… could he really bring himself to take that chance? He felt the mild burning in his throat from the hot, acrid air and couldn’t help but imagine a similar, much worse sensation spreading through his eyes.

Damn it. She’s right! Again! She’s been right about everything!

He remembered the first thing she had told him, his determination finally starting to crack.

“I… I can’t get out…” he whimpered.

“I tried to tell you.”

“…Why? Why do this to me? Why bother giving me air? Why not just bite my head off!?”

“I told you, the longer you last, the more fun it is for me. It’s an even trade. You get a slightly longer life, and I get some entertainment.”

“’Entertainment’!? Is this some kind of game to you!? Do you think I’m some kind of toy!?”

“You’re the best kind of toy: the living, edible kind.”

“Madeli-!” He stopped himself, yelling at her wouldn’t do him any good now. “… Please… please let me out. I’ll do anything… just- please…”

“So, you have finally accepted it. Not a bad score, you lasted longer than average. But the real challenge hasn’t even started. You should save your begging for when the acid starts biting.”

“Madeline, please!! I-” an idea crossed his mind, one so wrong and twisted that it stopped him mid plea. It came up from his darkest mental reaches: a repressed bundle of thoughts long kept down, now breaking loose in the turmoil of his mind.

“Madeline… if you let me out. I can give you something better.”

“Huh?”

He considered his next words.

“I can make you feel even better than you do right now.”

“Oh yeah?” she asked, sounding genuinely interested, if a bit skeptical. “How’s that?”

“I can help you feel better than you’ve ever felt before, if you put me somewhere else.”

“Somewhere else?” she questioned.

Mr. Edwards grimaced in the darkness. Why did she continue to toy with him!? Did she really want to hear him say it!? Fine!

“In your vagina! If you let me out, I’ll let you use me as your own personal sex toy. I’ll let you use me every day- whenever you want. I promise I’ll make it worth it. Just please, don’t keep me in here, get me out of your stomach, don’t digest me!”

“…You little pervert!” Madeline yelled, her face going flush.

She sprung up off her bed and Mr. Edwards’ world went into chaos. Liquids sloshing everywhere like a raging sea, the walls tumbling around him, then shaking violently with a series of thuds as the angry girl stomped heatedly across the room. Just when he was finally starting to get his bearings again, he heard an all-too-familiar sound.

*gulp* *gulp* *gulp* *gulp*

*splash*

A cascade of cold liquid crashed down on top of him again, but unlike the first time, the torrent didn’t end.

“Madeline!! Stop!! What are you doing!?”

*URP*

The stomach shook as a large bubble of air made its way up through her throat, letting the walls close in even closer and raising the carbonated pool to his chest.

“Giving you the end you deserve, creep!”

*gulp* *gulp* *gulp* *gulp* *gulp*

Another long spout of soda poured in on him, still fizzing as it landed. He pushed off the stomach floor as the drink reached his chin, doing his best to stay afloat.

“Madeline!! Please!! I’m sorry!! Stop!! I’m drowning!!” He yelled, breathing heavily.

He heard the crack of a fresh can.

“Oh, don’t worry,” she replied in a spitefully sarcastic voice. “With all the carbon dioxide in the soda, it’ll be over before then.”

He felt the dizziness begin to take hold, even in the gurgling darkness.

*gulp* *gulp* *gulp* *gulp*

Another downpour of Madeline’s drink came down on him. He felt his arms and legs growing weak, his chest burning. He felt himself begin to sink, the drink fizzing in his ears until his head went under.

Two loud gurgles reached him as her guts shifted to accommodate her sudden thirst. And then one final sound:

*URP*

Originally Published: 4-May-2020