Detention in a Stomach

~ I ~

Please Welcome the New Student to the Stomach

The next few days were games of cat and mouse between the giantess and the tiny, the teacher watching the student, either with a stare or a glare, seeing, enjoying, the little one write fast then faster.

Strolling by her desk with a bump of the hip to rock the wooden terrain. Letting the little one always know that she was there. Few times—she went for the strike. The hand, opening and closing, fingers flexing: ready to grab.

But her little treat was always saved by various minor incidents.

Harshwhinny strolled out through the doors at the back of the school, the flush of cool air, causing her to wrap a scar over her neck. Those games had brought life to the ordinarily dead woman. But what good was a fire underneath the skin to the feeling of a tiny trapped in her belly?

Knowing a little one was within the dome in the center part of her body. Nothing but the vastness of the sack around her, all loomed in darkness, the various functions, the different noises, of a beating heart, processing liver, and the muffled sounds that came from outside the titan.

Feet tickled inside of her. Walking around the track without any means of escape. Knowing it was only her that surrounded the space. Rocking her hips and shaking her toned belly to feel the one inside start to fly—the pleasantness of them smacking into the walls of their stomach.

It was a treasured feeling that ended too soon.

“Help me!”

Harshwhinny stopped the second the squeak, weaker than the breeze, entered her ear.

The front of her heels hovered over the cold stone of land in front. Deciding, to trust in her intuition, to pull back her foot proved itself to be wise. In the previous shadow stood something next to a pebble. Light pink with a touch of white.

Harshwhinny cocked her head with a blink to the effect. She decided to crouch, flexing open the dome of her skirt. Not one to care about flashing the colour of her underwear to any, she peered at the thing, which hopped in place, waving its arms in the air.

With narrowed eyes and fingers sent to fish below, she grabbed the tiny girl at the waist with soft pressure. Harshwhinny returned to standing and held the tiny at chest level. Her mountains filled out her clothing, offering a little heat, a little aid from the light snowflakes raining.

“H-Heeeelp! P-Please! My name is Mini... I.... I don't know how I got this small!”

Harshwhinny turned the girl in her fingers for examination. Cute little thing in a white t-shirt with tiny booty-shorts. No shoes or hat and lost on the cold stone for the last while. Long hair, now frozen, with hues of blue overtaking the skin.

Lost and confused. Tiny too. Transferring to this school has proven itself to be interesting after all.

Just then, the titanic stomach growled. Enough to break through the padding of the jacket and the harsh breeze of the afternoon. The little one was rolled onto Harsh's palm. Laying forward on it, with the heated skin. It'd help get her warm.

But there was a place she'd be warmer.

She looks colourful enough to be candy... or maybe... she already is...

Mini wasn't sure how to feel in seeing the towers of fingers, softer than their imposing stature suggested, rolled her into a free fall onto the palm. The skin was warm and elastic as it slapped from her impact.

She laid on it for a long while in looking out from the palm. Over the distant bridge of a wrist to the torso that loomed afar. Behind the fabric—came a roar. Loud and vibrating and dominating. Mini shivered until freezing. Looking up, so high up, over the curves of boobs to the distant face above them.

And the lick of the snake across her lips.

Whuh... whuaht is this woman... going to DO with me?

There wasn't time to react as pinched fingers descended from the sky; pressing into her sides and lifting the girl up, they brought her through the coolness of winter. Above the clad mammaries and over to the monolithic face of the woman.

The giantess looked at her with stoic eyes and a dead expression. Yet her head tilted back to the opening of her mouth. In the parting of her lips, a gust of warm air, a cloud of steam billowed out. Coming and floating around the little one.

It was warm. Very warm. Enough to melt the frost etched into Mini's skin. Yet the large fingers flicked up her sides, tickling her, raising her arms and holding her by her clasped hands. There she was able to swing back and forth, kicking, as she was slowly lowered into the maw.

"N-No no! Please! Don't do this!" Mini looked onto the face as it had now become flat, those pools for eyes, all the way down, keen on seeing her every struggle. "Don't eat me! Please! I'm begging you!"

Though the giantess did not seem to care as there was a stretch of a smile at those already pulled lips. Soon enough, the darkness of the maw had risen around her kicking feet. Just above the top lip, a slice of those eyes could be seen, narrowed, in a smile of their own.

The fingers released on Mini to another scream of her own. She fell, only this time, warm air, breath, rose to greet her. She crashed on the sloped surface of the tongue—heated to the point of burning.

Mini tumbled to wet squelches and threw out her arms. Finally, in slowing a touch, she grabbed a bump. Squeezing this, she dangled from it, throwing up her other hand, holding more flesh. Her feet dug into the coarse, squishy meat.

She looked up to a view beyond compare.

Far across the long ascent of the tongue, there where the sky should belong, a halo of white, dimmed, shone into the cavern of the maw. Its colour was grey as winds howled inside of the entrance. It was warm here. Soft too. With a feeling of safeness.

Were it not for the predator trying to eat her.

Mini dashed up the broad surface of the tongue, out of breath with muscle lit aflame, finding the appendage shifting from her movements. Going up the ride side caused it to lift that way, turning and curving. It rolled into itself with a need to dash left and to keep going up.

Sometimes its middle would lean back, far back, coming to twirl upside down. Mini gasped and held tightly to the flesh as though it were monkey bars. It was mostly dark. Sounds were echoes of splashes and the rhythm of the woman breathing. Every now and against, a gust of warmth flooded the cavern, over and over, dominating her.

Mini hung and looked past her feet. The back of the throat, down below, the passage opened. Swallow after swallowing. Pond of skin, opening and sealing and opening, waiting to claim her. Shaking her it, she held on and, the tongue, getting tried, laid itself forward again.

It didn't take long to reach the tip of the tongue, far denser with flesh here, with a view of the outside world from here. Curved to the sides were the rows of teeth sprawling into a darkness unperceivable. This woman was titanic.

And, for some reason, kept her mouth open.

Mini had been fearful of standing here. Tip of the tongue, suddenly flicking back, with her pelting the back of the throat. Yet the woman did no such thing and merely stood there. Maw open to the view of the parking lot.

Standing on the hill of pink, Mini took a few steps back and, with a sprint forward, leapt on the edge of the tongue. She flew over the trench below and the row of teeth after that. The plump, bottom lip, wobbled on her striking its center.

Mini laid forward for a bit. Out of breath, on a sea of the lip, to its ripples coursing out. She looked over and out to the world beyond. Like a galaxy it was. A road with no hope of reaching the end of. Cars requiring a day's journey to go inside—even the curb was forever out of reach.

And the cold.

Mini crawled across the lips, all the way to the lining of its side, coming to stand, holding it, looking out from the cave of flesh. She looked to the long way down. Reaching out a hand into the air, the warmth went to coldness, an immediate chill to yank her arm back inside.

Even if she were to escape, the giantess knew that it was too cold, too far, and too hopeless for her to survive. Mini looked back to the mouth. Dark and warm. Nothing but another woman's body and breath. Being so small and so helpless inside another. Nothing but a toy. Something to chew.

Sensing a choice had been made, the lips shut at once, two immense strips of softness, crashing into the belly and back. They sucked and, with that, the little one slid to the center of Harshwhinny's lips. Mini's head was the only thing to stick out from the closed lips as, above, the weight of the overhead eyes looked down at her.

Mini wanted to yell... but found she couldn't at feeling a tongue wash across her body.

Tip of it licked at her feet and travelled up her backside, taking away the snow and cold water, replacing it, instead, with warm saliva. This warmth spread across her arms and around her neck. Coating her in an outfit for the cold.

But it didn't stop there. Rather the lips undulated into Mini. Sucking her back and forth, in and out from her lips, allowing those lips to work into her. Nothing but a lollipop as she was sucked in and pushed out and sucked in again.

It didn't take long, though, for the tongue to pull away and the head to tilt back again. Mini's tiny face was surrounded by tons of lip as she, with the giantess, looked to the sky for the final time. Cloudy and grey, an overcast, with cold snow still pouring.

Mini hung from her neck as her body swung freely inside the cavern. And then, in hearing the final suction of the lips, was shot, slipped through, into the maw. The lips closed after her entrance and she fell backward.

The entrance of the throat was already open to catch her. Guided to the back and slipped into the tight passageway. Tightness and softness collapsed all around, each working muscle, releasing steam, in working her down.

Mini still fought to the unconscious functions of the body as though she were keeping above water. Beating her fists on the muscles and kicking to stay afloat for another inch. But then a second swallowed came, seizing her at once, the crushing softness, guiding her down, in great strides too powerful to fight.

It was like a slide as her body was squished in the tunnel. Outside came an enormous feeling on her body—two fingers that stroked through the skin. She must have been far down in the throat down, nothing more than a bulge.

It was dark here. Feeling of being smacked, softly, all around. Things swelling on her feet and pulling her down with the same pushing down on her head. Little protrusions around her body, filling around it, all for a lick until they deflated.

Soon, the slide's speed slowed, as an opening in the valve below showed the end of the ride.

Mini's feet passed through it first, able to move, kick around in the openness, free to be free. Soon even it suckled on her body, opening and closing on her legs, belly, chest and head. Weak flesh squeezing. Her hands strained barely to keep it open an inch—until she fell through.

The fall was of a couple of feet, and the smack onto the stomach's floor caused the rest of it to lurch. Defeated was she who laid forward on the ground. Yellow waters filled the land. Raising up to her cheek as the whole of the sac undulated.

Mini laid like that for a bit. To the washing of the waves and the feeling of defeat. Hair strewed over an eye as she looked through it to the surrounding. Her hand splashed in pressing the ground of the sac, needing help to her feet but, instead, falling onto her rump.

She sat there and looked around the setting, feeling the vibrations of the stomach beneath her, watching how the walls breathed, flexing in and out, the stomach, shrinking and expanding, in every passing second.

There was the growl of a stomach in the second next. Mini's expression took to horror as she tucked her legs into her chest. Constant splashing like water on sand except in a place not meant to be seen. By itself, over in a corner was a hill of sand, a collection of mash potatoes that stood tall.

Mini shivered into herself in fighting to deal with this situation; above, a beating heart, roaring, as to make its owner know. Distant flushing of liquids, somewhere else in this apartment, one inside a towering woman.

Then that woman decided to shake her hips, a confident stride, that sent a wave of liquid smacking into Mini. Enough to knock her onto her side and wash over the girl. She bolted up at once, already, ready, to cry.

She bolted across the flooring with every step sinking far more than it should, like running across a trampoline, as she ran into the lining of the sac. Her hands pounded on it, beating on it, crying, shouting, for anyone to let her out.

It was foolish, of course. The dense barrier of flesh separated Mini from the outside world. Anyone that could help her, somehow, would need their ear to be pressed to the woman's belly. This fighting, however, did get a response.

Through the layer of the jacket and the density of stomach, on the other side, a large hand was rubbing her tummy; the sounds were peaceful and calming. Mini still fought, that was, until a light burp erupted above. Soft and light and shrinking the space inside the stomach.

The hand patted the belly, solid taps, knocking her back.

There was nothing that could be done here now. Except to saunter to a corner, lie down, curl up, doing her best to sleep. Mini was a bit above the waters and could be safe this way—for however long that would last.

Sounds still came. Howl of winds striking on the stomach, although it kept out the storm, keeping the place heated. Safe from passing shoes and the bitter cold. Able to take her, anywhere, in the world too large for her.

The girl at least got to sleep warm.

Harshwhinny had moaned and ensured the girl felt the vibrations of each one. She had tasted like strawberry candy with a different coating with every stern lick. Toying with the little one had stated the lust of the past few days. Feeling her climb her tongue as though it was rock climbing.

Sucking her lips, and her, to whatever game she wanted to play.

Her goal was to keep the girl warm but, in the process of that, found a way to enjoy her games. Maybe she could have stored the little one with her bust—although there was a chance to crush. The front of her panties—or the back—could have worked... but also was too forward.

Eating her, ensuring she couldn't escape, and that she would always be safe: seem like the best best.

Her fingers had pushed on the bugle on her throat. Holding back that lump for as long as she could. It twisted, turned, and struggled. Fighting little thing all the way down to its cell. Harsh preferred it that way.

More of a fight to show how easily her body could consume another—and without trying.

Harshwhinny ended up rocking herself around, rolling her hips in circles to relax the little one, knowing, of course, she was dominating her with this. She stroked her belly as well. Hoping to calm it. The burp hadn't been meant. Although a laugh and a pat saw to redeem that.

How humiliating it must have been to be the one inside of all that.

Soon, though, the tickles and whispers of screams had ceased; Harsh had been able to take away a hand and walk to no more fighting. The little one must have tuckered herself out. Strolling over to her car, Harsh unlocked it and got inside, starting the engine, going home, except now, bringing another with her.

Perhaps a permanent guest.