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It’s your first time in a place like this. Truth be told, you’re a little bit embarrassed. You hate to admit it, but you’re incredibly fascinated by the idea of getting pushed into the wet heat of someone’s mouth, getting prodded around by their tongue, and sliding down the hot, wet tube of their gullet… The shiver down your spine that eventually ends up in your groin serves as a good reminder of why you’re here.
This facility is one of the only ones of its kind- a vorarephilia cafe. There are two entrances- one for people who want to eat other people, and one for people who want to be eaten. From what you’ve heard, people who through the first door have to drink something that turns their digestive processes off. Through the second door, you’re given a drink that shrinks you down to about two inches tall. From there, they take you and put you on a big glass table with high edges to keep you from accidentally falling. The solution they gave you doesn’t shrink clothes, so they take them and put them in a bag with your name on it- you’ll collect that when you leave, of course.
You fidget on top of the table. There aren’t a whole lot of people around, so at least you don’t have to be too worried about being so exposed. Eridan said he’d be here soon, and you’re anxious as you wait for him. After not too long, however, you spot him. Your bloodpusher skips a beat, and for a split second you feel impossibly frightened. Eridan is your friend, you remind yourself, and he’s not going to hurt you. He’s made to wait for a couple of minutes, and then he’s allowed to come over to the table. It doesn’t take long for his eyes to land on you, and he smiles before carefully scooping you up. He takes you over to one of the chairs that’s laid about, settling himself down before lifting you up to eye level.
“How’re you doin?” he asks.
You settle yourself in his palm, avoiding the cold metal of his rings. “I’m alright. This is really fucking nerve wracking, you know. You didn’t tell me I’d be naked.”
“Slipped my mind. Never occurred to me.”
“Riiight,” you say, eyes narrowed suspiciously. “Anyway. This is safe? You’ve done this before?”
“Yeah, couple a times. It’ll be alright. You’re all good, kar.”
You nod a little bit, sighing as you draw your legs up. Imagining it was always really hot- but now that you’re here doing the real thing, you find that you’re actually pretty afraid. Eridan’s got two rows of teeth. You can see the back row when he opens his mouth to talk to you, and you’re a little bit caught off guard by the length of his forked tongue as it slides down to taste up your left side.
“Fuck,” you breath, tensing up. “More warning next time!”
He chuckles in response. “Here’s a warnin, then,” he says, voice low and gentle in what might be an attempt to bring you comfort. “I’m puttin you in.” And he does, tilting his hand sideways so that you half slide half tumble into his open maw. His tongue slides out to guide you in- and it carefully adjusts you before his closes his mouth and consequently seals you off from your only source of light. There’s a rather excessive amount of saliva in here; evidently, he was eager to get you past his lips. The thought gets you a little bit hot and bothered- for a moment, you imagine what it must be like for him, feeling you as you squirm and adjust yourself atop his tongue. You imagine the eager tightening of his stomach, the excited thump-thump-thump of his bloodpusher as he struggles to keep his composure. He likes this in all the same ways that you do, and unlike you, he does not have darkness and wet walls to cover him from view. He’s exposed, even if there are only a few eyes on him.
There’s some thrill in that, too, you think.
You don’t have too long to dwell on the thought. Without warning(but you can’t blame him, his mouth is full after all)he presses you up against his palate. Then he’s dragging you, slow and careful, drawing you back towards the deep hollow of his throat. You’re dropped down into it, and he savours the sensation for a fraction of a second before his reflexes prevail and the strong, tight muscles of his gullet pull you down into his esophagus. For a moment you are suffocating, eyes wide as every part of you screams for freedom(but no sound escapes you- you are stock still and moving all at once). And then, more suddenly than you would have expected, you are deposited into the tight confines of his stomach. There’s a thick mucous coating that covers the walls, which you suspect to be the work of the solution he drank earlier. With a little adjustment and a few grunts, you settle down into him.
“Kar?” He mumbles, and you feel his voice resonate from all around you. It’s pleasant. “Are you alright in there?”
“Yeah.” Your voice cracks just slightly. You realize your breathing is shallow and nervous. “Yeah, I’m okay. I didn’t scratch you at all, did I?”
“Nah. I’m alright. You can breathe okay?”
You nod for a moment before realizing he can’t see it. “Yeah. I can.” Looking up, you see that his gastroesophageal sphincter is dilated slightly- just enough to get some air in, you presume. That must feel strange for him. All of this must be just as odd for him as it is for you. That train of thought leads you to realize that you’re not moving very much, and you wonder if he can feel you at all, if you’re no different than the feeling of food. The idea makes your own stomach twist up, fascinated and very humbled. You are food by very definition. It’s weird to think about. For a moment, you imagine him digesting you, making you part of him. Listening to the subtle sounds of himself as he breaks you down into simpler parts.
You shudder, and you elect to move around to remind him that you exist. That you are you, and not food.
“Eridan,” you gasp, talking for the express purpose of hearing something other than the omnipresent drone of each breath he takes, in and out, in and out-
“Yeah, Kar? Do you want me to let you out? It’s okay to freak out a bit your first time. That’s all normal.” He sounds as if he’s genuinely concerned for you, and the thought brings you comfort.
“No,” you decide, easing yourself into a calmer state of mind. “I’m alright. I’m good.”
“You sure?”
“Yeah. I’m sure.” You pause a moment, and then continue. “How long do people usually stay inside?”
“Well, the longest I’ve ever had someone was around twenty minutes, I think.” You feel him shift slightly. “The stuff you drank’ll wear off in a little more than half an hour. The stuff I drank takes an hour or two.”
“Does it hurt? Growing back?”
“I dunno, Kar. I’ve never done it.”
Right, you muse. Eridan is far too fond of control. He’d never want to put himself in this kind of scenario. You’re sure he’s absolutely giddy with his part of the equation, of course. Having someone trapped behind the sturdy wall of his muscle, feeling them squirm inside him? He must feel impossibly powerful. Like an apex predator. Like a judge. He can’t hurt you, based on what he’s just told you, but you’re sure he can imagine either way.
Part of you wants to settle down in the depths of him and sleep for a while. The other part knows that all good things must come to an end. Pretty soon he’s gagging you up with the aid of some sort of ipecac serum, and then he’s cleaning you up and drying you off and the two of you are left waiting for your respective modifiers to wear off.
It definitely won’t be the last time you do this.