Teaser: Wiggly Micro Snacks (Mawplay, OV - 800 Words)

"Now, what am I going to do with you," Phirae says, cupping you in one paw. The other pokes along your front, one massive claw just barely grazing over you. It stops you from squirming before it pushes in any harder. You cringe away as the point traces over your chest. The cat’s claw comes to rest with a cute boop to your face, then sharp keratin gives way to sharp enamel, with the cat’s teasing grin showing off his fangs.

Phirae pinches around your middle and lifts you off his paw, dangling you above his muzzle.

"Well, there's always the classic... " he muses, giving you a wink, then opening his maw wide. Hot air buffets you from below. It smells like cat breath. Looking down, you can see right past his jaws, all the way to his gullet. His tongue flexes, dashing across his lips in a soft, hungry lick.

You squirm uselessly in the air, swaying from Phirae’s grip. You dangle precariously high from the floor, but the fall can’t be any worse than that mischievous glint in Phirae's eye. 

"Awh, what's the rush? You know I'm going to devour you. Sure, you can run, but I'll catch you and swallow you down, then leave you squirming in my guts 'til they've had their way with you.” Despite what he’s saying, the cat’s voice is sweet, with a soft blush playing on his cheeks. “You can wriggle all you like, but you're not going anywhere that isn't padding my hips."

His tongue rolls out, already drooling as he lowers you closer, but he suddenly stops just before your feet reach his tongue.

"The safeword's 'keyboard' if you actually want me to stop, by the way."

He grins, then drops you into his mouth.

Phirae’s mouth is hot, humid, and has you trapped. You’re just the right size to fit in there, with his tongue squelching beneath you. It ripples, trying to hold you still, even as your squirms roll you about. The feline’s tongue coats drool across your front, dragging you over his palate to taste you again and again. It’s dark, but you don’t need to see much to know what he’s doing. He’s treating you like food, or some toy to tease, stuffing you into his cheek so he can swallow down excess drool. When you do get light, it streams in through his jaws, glinting off his drool, guiding it all back towards his gullet. The throat muscles flex as you watch, hungry for more.

Phirae’s slurps slow down, his tongue growing rougher with shoves and squeezes. You cling on to the muscle as best you can, but he seems satisfied he’s gotten most of your wriggling over with now. He bounces you around a few times with rolls of his tongue, almost disappointed that you’ve gotten tired.

“Times up!” His voice rumbles around you, both words slamming you against the top of his mouth. Then his tongue flicks back, casually shoving you into his throat. It’s a small motion for him, but it’s the most important shift of your life.

Gravity slips you back, aided by copious amounts of drool. His throat relaxes, yawning with the scent of his stomach stronger than his breath for a brief moment. His uvula dangles so tantalisingly close, you’re only lifeline as you begin to slip. You latch on tight, and cling to your last hope of delaying the inevitable.

GLRK!

The cat’s throat surges around you. Walls smother you in flesh, squeezing down from your head to your feet. Muscles bigger than you engulf you with predatory intent, to drag you towards the feline’s stomach. The only thing stopping you is a tiny, dangling muscle that makes the cat gag in surprise.

It gives you a second of reprieve, until drool starts to pool against your grip.

GLP!

Another swallow yanks at you, coating you in more wet, thick squelches. Flesh melds to your body, hotter than his breath and tighter than a vice. But just as swiftly, the crushing stops, flexing deeper along his throat. The feline’s tongue presses back, blocking off the only avenue of escape.

Drool splatters across your hands, flooding your grip with slick, gooey lubrication. But you manage to hang on. Barely.

GULP!

Then everything’s squeezing once again, flexing waves trying to drag you down into the black hole below. The cat’s uvula tugs down under your weight. You start sliding.

Too fast to readjust your grip, your grip fails you, and you get swallowed.

Your body gets squeezed down like any other snack, pushed down deeper into the cat’s body. Past his jaws, below his collar, lost beneath the soft thrum of his heartbeat as you disappear into him. The tightness doesn’t let up, compressing more than you can possibly fight against. He’s already lost the feeling of you, but you can feel him all around you. Once he’s swallowed you, there’s no trace left, aside from the cat’s soft purr.