When the Forest Swallowed Me Whole

[fancomicsjohn]

It started with a buzz in my veins. I’d heard the rumors about that cave off the trail, but I didn’t care. My friends were already drunk on the bus, laughing about something stupid. I wandered off, and that’s when I saw her.

She stood at the mouth of the cave, towering over the trees. Her boots smushed the pine needles into the dirt like they were paper. I couldn’t see past her thighs, but her voice dropped into my chest like a stone. “Lost, little one?” She crouched then, her knees cracking like gunshots. Her fingers, each one longer than I am tall, brushed my hair back. The scent of earth and something sweet—like rotting fruit—filled my nose. I didn’t move. I couldn’t.

“Don’t be scared. I like little things.” She grinned, showing broken teeth and a split tongue. My knees hit the ground as she yanked me up. Her hand squeezed my throat—not tight, just enough to keep me from running. “You’re so small. Perfect.”

She dragged me into the cave. The air grew colder, damper. Her fingers dug into my shoulders as she walked, and I could feel every ridge of her nail, every callus on her palm. She flicked a lighter. The flame cast her face in a hollow glow, and I saw the scars webbing her cheekbones. “You won’t scream,” she said, reading my mind. “You already know what happens to tiny toys who fight back.”

She pulled a vial from her belt. The glass was warm, thick with something yellow. “Drink,” she ordered. I tried to twist away, but she pinned my wrists to my back. The liquid burned as it hit my tongue—like battery acid and honey. My vision blurred. She laughed, loud and wet. “There’s that look. The one that says ‘I’m not in control anymore.’”

The ground rushed up. My body shrunk fast, bones creaking, skin stretching. My clothes split open. She picked me up like a pebble, her finger curling around my throat again. I was nothing now. A toy. A bug. She tossed me into her mouth.

The dark swallowed me whole.

Her mouth was hotter than I expected. The taste was iron and salt, like she’d bitten her lip to bleed. Her tongue was a thing of its own—gross, pulsing, slick. It coiled around me, pressing me against the roof of her mouth. I heard her swallow. Her jaw clamped down, and for a second, I thought I’d be crushed. But she held me there, suspended, breathing through her nose so I didn’t suffocate. “Mmm,” she hummed. “So tender. You’ll make a nice snack later.”

She spat me out before I could panic. I tumbled into her hand, dazed. Her palm was a wasteland of calluses and scars. I tried to crawl away, but she trapped me with a finger. “Where do you think you’re going?” She curled her hand around me like a fist, and I realized she could snap me like a twig. “You’re my dinner. You don’t get to leave.”

She lifted me to her lips again. This time, she let me see what was coming. Her mouth stretched slowly, the edges of her lips peeling back like a curtain. I could see the teeth inside—staggered, broken, some missing. Her jaw moved sideways, like a snake, to accommodate my shaking body. “Shhh,” she whispered. “You’ll grow, little one. You always do.”

When she swallowed me whole a second time, it wasn’t like food. It was slower. Her throat rippled, muscles contracting around my chest, my ribs flattening against my skin. I couldn’t breathe. Her tongue pushed me deeper, past the point where I thought I’d suffocate. Then warmth. Wet heat. A pressure like being trapped inside a balloon. I was floating, but the walls of her throat were squeezing me, pulsing. I screamed, but she clamped her hand over her mouth, smothering the sound. Her eyes rolled back, and I heard her moan through her nose.

She threw her head back and coughed me out. I landed on her shoulder, coughing, choking. My limbs felt longer. Stiffer. She grinned, picking me up by the collar. “Look at you,” she said, turning me over. My fingers had grown—just a little, but enough to touch her wrist when she held out her hand. “You’re already changing. Good. You’ll be big enough to feel it soon.”

She walked me to the mouth of the cave. The forest looked different now. The trees were smaller. My shoes—what was left of them—fit my feet better. I looked up, and her face was a continent of features. “Where are you taking me?” I choked out.

She laughed, and it was a sound that rattled in my bones. “Where do you think?” She opened her mouth again, wider this time. Her teeth glinted in the moonlight. “You’re going to stay inside me. You’ll grow, little one. I’ll feed you, and you’ll get bigger. When you’re fat and soft, I’ll hold you in my palm and squeeze. Isn’t that what you wanted? To be someone’s special toy?”

I kicked and screamed as she opened her mouth, but she just laughed. Her fingers prodded my back, shoving me toward the gaping void. The last thing I remember is the heat of her breath and the feel of her uvula brushing my forehead, like a petal of black silk. Then darkness.

Some people say it takes weeks. Others say you forget after a while. But I remember. I remember every time she swallows me, every time her throat flexes, growing with me as I swell inside her. She feeds me cream and honey, her fingers dripping the sweetness down my throat. I’ve filled her chest with my weight now. Sometimes she carries me like a baby, squeezing my ass through her palm. “You’re getting so big,” she whispers. And I know soon, she’ll decide it’s time. You can find more stories like mine here. Or if you want to see what I look like now, check out the video section here. We’re all still in there, somewhere.