FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

Along the southern edge of a continent lay a small city sprawled across the countryside, built from the ground up to show off the natural splendor of nature itself. Roses adorned every corner of carefully placed cobblestone roads with vines of ivy trailing up along many of the building's sides. Flowers of every variety, both natural grown and imported from lands abroad, filled the air with a royal degree of beauty to exhibit the wondrous display that nature entailed. It was, however, a quiet location to reside within, and one with a dwindling population. Many of those who lived there warned of curses and terrible demons that came to haunt outsiders, or even kill them, as the secrets to preserving the lush bounty of nature should be kept only to them. In truth it was to protect the curious from a more sinister aspect, and they only wished to keep the vicious nature from spreading.

There remained hidden within the deepest bowels of the city hushed talks of an accursed night that came forth every year. Rituals practiced to keep a spirit at bay from demolishing everything that they knew and loved; a vengeful beast that took a physical form to devour those who tried to control nature. Humanity, as a result, was the primary concern of this ethereal which arose from the waters and consume all within its path. Not a single soul would be left untouched by the creature until the belly be filled with offerings it chose to be sufficient, and only then would it return to the realm which it materialized forth.

A human named Alain, born and proudly raised in the city as the younger of two brothers from a commoner's family, had grown curious as to the reasons of affliction that his beloved town quietly endured every year. It came to the point that the beast could no longer be ignored, for the population became absolutely devastated after centuries of simply standing idly by as the spirit consumed friends and neighbors indiscriminately. He was not born into any highly regarded status in the city's standards, and thus held little to no political influence as he came of age. If nothing else he felt pressured by his peers to simply give in and accept his fate that he would, one day, be eaten during his sleep. Everyone, including himself, knew that this couldn't go on. However no one knew how exactly to stop the vicious cycle. Rather, no one except Alain, whom secretly stole a book from the town library's shadowed archives. A book whichcontained he hoped contained even an inkling as to a method to end a never seemingly ending pattern. He studied the text in spare time and with his limited ability to read to try and understand the exact purpose to the affliction upon the city and how it may be lifted.

A normal individual would have given up immediately, for the black-leather book contained nothing more than what seemed to be the scribblings of a mad-man along with otherwise intricate descriptions of what takes place once the spirit comes forth. The stories were a fascination to him, the likes of which his eldest brother Arnaud thought unhealthy. He didn't think too much of his younger brother researching an end to the curse, but simply worried as to what consequences may come from it. This only fueled Alain's passion, and with the night once more approaching to when the malicious spirit appeared, he finally found a way to perhaps break the curse. Not a single spirit bore ill will naturally, and he found this to be no exception to the one which dined upon the town's inhabitants.

On a night prior to the feast which came annually, Alain set forth just after dusk south of the town with the book close under his arm. Ignoring all who he'd normally greet, those after the day could note the determination upon his expression. The young male became so engrossed in putting an end to the curse that nothing could stop him. Just before the sun disappeared beneath the horizon, he reached warm seas which originally fueled the great growth of the town. Opening the book to a page with symbols directly etched upon the paper, he copied them perfectly in the soil. Circles and other more intricate shapes took form by his actions in the dirt with unnatural haste. Looking over to his side, he'd take note of the moon's position and how it looked according to pictures within the book. He knew that all he had to do now was wait for the lunar object to position itself perfectly between the center of a natural marble arch. Flowers along that great geometry gave off a slight glow not too dissimilar to that of the moon. His heart rate increased dramatically as he realized that the scrawling in the book hadn't been a lie thus far, and that he was invoking the spirit's presence a single day early; a day which the spirit began to gather and he could force it into the physical realm, but before the full rage and nature became dominant. With the glowing reflection of the moon on the water's surface moving, and it taking a more oblong shape, he knew that the spirit answered the call and began rising forth. At that moment it felt as though a heavy blow was struck against his head. Mere seconds after falling upon the ground his vision went dark.

Loud hissing and curses muttered beneath a deep and grunting voice roused Alain. Wishing to push himself upwards, an excruciating pain washed over his head and threatened to put him back down against the ground. The world became a dizzying haze as he struggled to bring himself upon his feet, but an ear-splitting screech left him wanting to bury his head beneath the dirt. Shielding his ears with his hands, the debilitated human suddenly realized the exact nature of the noise. It was the spirit, for the sound released was unlike anything found in the natural world. Gathering up what felt to be the last of his strength he managed to look upwards in utter horror and disbelief to what was taking place. His brother stood there, pulling against a rope connected to a bolt fired from a crossbow. To that there he could see it imbedded into the hide of a gigantic turtle.

Alain couldn't believe his eyes. There his eldest brother stood with a dagger in hand about to slice at the throat of a spirit made tangible to the rest of the living world. What would have been a powerful experience in itself, simply laying eyes on the beast, became an unspeakable experience as he realized that it could be in his fault that the spirit may actually be killed. Shaking due to recovering from his unconscious state, and being unable to fathom the event unfolding, he jumped forward towards Arnaud. Tunnel vision took over as he saw the fruits of his work possibly disappearing right in front of him, and not even his own blood could keep him from achieving his goals. He studied so many nights only to toil away the next day in utter fatigue, and all to help save all which he loved and restore it to glory. To do that the spirit needed to live, and he needed to save it.

Arnaud turned around in shock and surprise at seeing his brother launching towards him. Alain staggered just before pressing his hands down around the brother's shoulders to tear him away from the turtle. Confusion gripped both of them as neither knew exactly what was going on; they both, growing up, had been nothing but the model of perfect siblings. Never fighting, and always working together, the magnitude of the situation finally sank in.

The elder brother simply observed his brother from the shadows, fearing that Alain had fallen under the sway of dark magics that the book was rumored to possess. Arnaud had crept through the early mornings when his brother still slept from busy nights of study to understand the notes taken and plans being formulated. He knew all along what was going to take place, but instead thought that summoning the creature into a true physical form would spell disaster not only for the town, but for the rest of humanity. All which had to be done was stop the spirit from achieving full energy off feeding on a single willing sacrifice and becoming near impervious to conventional weaponry.

A quick flash of movement followed by a sickening snap was heard. Wails of human agony filled the air afterwords as Alain's eyes bare wide at the sight before him. Slumping down in his grasp was his brother, whom he managed to distract from further continuing an attack against the turtle. Now, however, the human was split in two at the midsection, and the lower half missing. Glistening red in the moonlight against the turtle's beak was that of blood. A single moment later a powerful gulp could be heard with the neck extending straight outward, as though purposely displaying the horrifying sound of a giant swallow. Tossing the torso to the side in disgust, unable to look at the pleading and staring eyes, he fell against his rump and scuttled backwards in confusion and fear. He only wished to stop his brother from killing the turtle, and not end his life as a result.

Before Alain could make any more movements, the spirit lashed forward with its foot with blinding speed. Quite evidently, as he soon found out, taking up the form of a turtle did not imply the sluggishness normally exhibited by the species. It knocked his back against the cold night ground with the flat clawed foot exerting a near-crushing weight against his chest. A single deep-olive eye stared downwards with the head cocked to the side. Different forms of pressure pushed against his body as his eyes watered. It felt as though something was clawing at his very soul while he stared right back at the giant eye. His reflection seemed contorted, almost demonized, as a sinking sensation flooded through his veins. It was how the turtle viewed him, and it disturbed him greatly.

"I suppose I should be thanking you." The turtle spoke with a gruff tone, but in a mild manner which rolled with it a conflicting motherly tone. There came with it a numbing stench as the mouth clacked between words, for a rot came from the beak of which Alain had never fathomed.

"However, it was you that put me in this situation. It was you who, also, shall be the demise of your people. The Cathars shall fall for what they've done to me, and you shall bare witness." She simply chuckled, deep and rolling, what sounded to be a curse. "No, instead you shall not be the first fully devoured."

"But I wish to be." Alain meekly choked out, winching as he prepared for the foot to come crushing down on him after speaking. The turtle, however, held her position.

In an action contradicting what he thought would be an offensive action, she instead lifted her body off his own and looked at him with both eyes at his position. Even with the foot no longer grasping at his chest, the unmistakable pressure could still be felt, and after being stared at for more than a few seconds it seemed more as though his ribcage was ready to crack. Her presence became nearly more than he could bear, yet he remained as still as possible. The only movements made were slow and well thought out, and he only attempted to move himself into a more subservient position to try and prove his words.

"I called you here, great spirit, to beg for forgiveness; to offer my body to you how you see fit to use it, and to be the one final fulfilling meal to your insatiable appetite." Slowly and weakly he muttered out his words with closed eyes, and all the while trying to move into a kneeling position. Even with his eyes closed he could feel the imposing eyes staring him down in what felt like an eternal judgment.

Staring for what felt like an eternity, Alain managed to stare at her form in greater detail. He looked up across the olive and tan colored scales of the body. It looked muddy and caked, as though she had been waiting laying beneath a muddy surface. The shell, however, took on a much different theme. The true color had long since faded away, for a drab black and gray mixture overtook the tough dome. Dead and rotten vines strew themselves messily across the entire back, hanging down as though yet trying to display some visage of vitality. Cracked petals from flowers of indiscernible origin and species remained trapped within the coiled mess of plant matter. His eyes darted quickly, imagining the splendor she could have displayed in centuries past.

"I truly wish to restore your beauty and power. I want nothing more than to repair damages long since due that my people have done to your being."

"And why, pray tell, shall I listen to one of the Cathar faith and linage, whom tortured and bound me away like some petty nuisance, despite all the bounty and growth I brought to your people? You think you're the first to try and offer themselves to me like some pitiable slave?" A powerful gust of air followed the words. "No. Your own blood betrayed you as he attacked me upon my entering this realm while I could not defend." The words stung like needles against his heart, and it felt as though tiny jaws chewed at his guts. There had been no way to know that this ritual had been attempted before with no documentation of it.

"If you wish to truly offer yourself as nothing more than a pitiable prey item, like you already are, then show me. Open my mouth with your own hands." She poised herself haughtily, looming above him with her head eclipsing the moon which now hovered high above in the sky.

Due to the events which had transpired leading up to this moment, it all felt so very much like a dream. Alain knew well that this was an ethereal experience, but nothing could prepare him for an experience such as this. His own elder brother, who looked and cared for the family his entire life, lay near him. From the front, however, stood impatiently the giant turtle which he saved from being permanently banished. What he finally wished for could truly be grasped after all these years, yet a debilitating fear gripped him. The human certainly didn't harken himself to be a martyr of any nature, no matter what the spirit believed. He stammered; opening his mouth resulted in a garbled mess of nonsensical sounds. Through this he stepped backwards with irregular breaths. His heart felt as though it were ready to burst out his chest cavity due to the rate which it accelerated, and he could even feel tears welling up in his eyes. Never had he felt as emotional as he did now as the night's events finally struck his consciousness quicker and more brutally than meteorites struck the earth.

Agitated, the great spirit tilted her head and looked forward with half lidded eyes. Everything to do with her demeanor translated to being less than impressed. She expected the human to fall through with the task he wished to commit. A slight gruff created a quick puff of hot air from the nostrils, as her patience finally diminished.

"Alright, that is quite enough. You need not prove yourself any more incapable of carrying out your self-imposed duties. I shall continue on my path."

After watching the turtle shake herself, dead petals and leaves falling like rain, the human snapped to attention. Before she made a single step, he lurched forward. It felt as though something took control of his actions for him. His eyes went wide, and his heart rate raced ever faster; he unable to think as his self-imposed promises to duty superseded other emotions. All inhibitions appeared gone for this single instant in time, for his right hand placed itself firmly against the spirit's beak, before rubbing slowly yet gently against the front of her beak. The other hand swiftly turned itself upwards to lay itself upon the bottom, and with it came a gentle rubbing motion. Shivers traveled down his spine as a deeper sensation flooded the mind. Closing his eyes, and taking a deep breath, tears formed and quickly trickled down his cheeks. It felt magical to him. The faded scales, despite appearing as though faintly nonexistent, felt wholly within this tangible world. Combinations of the untouchable and the physical gave him a shred of fear, but also reassurance. Once more the reality of the night and all which transpired became further reinforced. Fingers pricked gently at cracks between the scales, feeling how neglected they felt, and how he wished that his time could be spent repairing them in what ever way possible. A deep connection to the spirit once again emerged through his self-being, and he threw his body against the nose of the giant beast in a tight hug for showing compassion. Any words attempted to be spoken once again only came through as pointless sputtering, yet the intent was there. It couldn't be ignored any longer.

"Then as you wish, human." This time, when the spirit spoke, there came with it a strange feeling of emotion as if trying to help calm Alain. She seemed annoyed, yet also surprised. Perhaps she remembered the fickle nature of humans, and deep within, knew that it could not be held against the man.

Also, this time, Alain watched the mouth opening wider that what was customary with the spirit's speech. His eyes slowly opened while the arms were forced to spread apart from the gaping mouth. Chills once more spread against his body, but this time it felt different. In a way he couldn't quite place the sensation due to the feeling that it wasn't actually there at all; breaths from the open mouth speared itself through the body, in a metaphysical sense, and affected his very soul. Alain backed away he couldn't help but part his own mouth in awe. The head of the turtle lifted itself just enough that it became difficult to maintain a proper grasp around it with the hands, yet they stayed steadfast to the sides as if attempting to keep the embrace intact. His eyes winced shut every time that a breath came forward, making it difficult to look within, but even then the scent was enough to turn his head away when at first receiving it. There came with it the obvious stench of swamp gas to indicate that the spirit indeed had been cursed at one point, much like she stated previously. By no circumstances should something coming from fresh water have such an odious scent. With it came the repugnant odor of rotten meat, perhaps as a final torture and warning to prey about her intentions, and what shall soon become of them. It became so great that his eyes watered for that reason along with his own overwhelming emotions. There still remained shreds of her previous glory, however, judging by the sweet and almost alluring smell of lavender mixed with roses, and even flowering vines of jasmine wafting about in the mixture.

A slight nod of approval was given by the turtle, as it appeared she sensed the interest welling up within Alain. Just enough force had been given to shake the human from latching onto the face in any manner to push him back, and forced him to look straight within the mouth. Her breathing lightened just enough for the watering eyes to focus in on the insides. This, in turn, took his own breath away due to the magnitude of finally viewing into what had once been a mere dream. Dark pink flesh, appearing somewhat gray and worn away, encompassed his entire vision as he noticed the top of her beak resting just inches above his head. While it seemed perhaps decrepit in terms of the vibrant life it once portrayed, there appeared a strange and starry appearance. Reaching up to wipe his eyes, ensuring no saliva had obscured his vision, he bent inwards. Saliva sparkled no matter where he gazed. Every portion of the turtle's mouth twinkled akin to the stars above the two, and a black film spread slowly and randomly along the mouth. While it repulsed him, a curdling in his gut let him fully understand that emotion, it at the same time mystified him. In a way it entranced him and captured his imagination.

"How could any creature be so disturbing in story, yet so mystifying when in presence?" He whispered to himself, taking one final step closer to the point that the bottom of the beak pressed against his midsection. A slight gruff was all he got in response to the turtle.

What next caught the human's attention was the sheer amount of ridges jutting out through the flesh. A distinct lack of teeth was present within the turtle's mouth, but the equivalent of such appeared in spades. Imbedded all along the top were those ridges, which to him looked like pieces of flesh which had been pulled out and filed to a dangerous spike. They quite clearly formed a very specific shape as they arched naturally with the mouth, pointing inwards towards the center and slightly towards the back, to likely help ensnare struggling prey and keep them moving back. Some of them could be estimated, by the human, to be as large as his own head. They spread along the sides of the mouth, where they thinned in number and became shorter, until it met with the bottom and front of the jaws. There happened to be only a single specific location where none appeared; the location of the tongue, and the area where what he assumed to be the throat began.

Sliding forwards, the tongue finally made sure its presence be noticed in full. It had a distinct v-shape to fit within the matching form of the mouth, but it didn't seem able to stretch forward too far. Alain understood the purpose of the slimy muscle now pressing against his chest. He placed both his hands upon the tongue while reaching forward. Spreading his fingers, he exerted as much pressure as he could. Saliva welled up along the sides of his fingers against the tough muscle, adding a warmth to the night that his body could never have anticipated. Shivers were once again sent down his spine, but this time in a joyous fashion, as he shook the rest of his body. Clenching those fingers, the human began a series of massaging motions to the large muscle. Judging by the lack of opposing motion from the spirit, he thought that perhaps it be pleasing.

Alain truly wished to show the sincerity behind his actions. Leaning inwards, he placed his lips upon the tip of the muscle. Sweat beaded along his brow simply due to the absolute fear coursing through his veins. Through severe concentration and dedication to follow his word and aspirations, he kept up his gall. A gentle suction from his mouth initiated a slow and passionate kiss to the unmoving piece of flesh. He thought it appropriate to choose this segment of body more so than the tip of the beak, for in this manner it ensured that he showed subservience instead of thinking the other as an equal lover. Despite this he couldn't help but gag slightly after a couple moments, for the magnitude of flavor had been unlike anything he could have imagined. It was deep, yet utterly putrid, as though pressing his face against days old meat. Saliva instantly entangled and invaded his mouth, ensuring that it transferred in full the horrid tang. Opening his eyes for a quick peek allowed him to notice, in closer detail, how the turtle had left behind the remains of previous meals. Scales of fish scattered about the mouth. Shreds of what appeared to be clothing of those in previous years'sacrifices remained near the edges of the tongue or plastered above him on the roof of the mouth, and tufts of fur from various animals occasionally made an appearance between the sharpened ridges. Natural reactions of the body threatened to make him recoil after long, and he squeezed his eyes shut in determination.

It may have been a foolish thing to do in the mind of any other normal individual, but the devoted human lurched forward against the rational will of his conscious. Breaking away from the kiss, he found his chest laying flat against the tongue, and the bottom half of his body hanging outside of hermouth. A tough pressure exerted itself against his midsection, and while the terrible scent's origination towards the front should repel, it instead let him know where to follow, and he clambered forward. A soft splat echoed inside of her head, despite the action having happened nearly a minute prior, as though to continually pressure and warn him of the dire circumstances to his life. Pressing his elbows inwards, he felt how rigid the tongue's structure actually was, for it barely gave way to his toughest hold. In that sense, however, this made it perfect to latch onto with a tight hug. The saliva, which he had grown intimate with via an action reserved to display true love, quickly soaked through the absorbent material woven into his shirt. The chill of the night seemed to disappear as a result, and this at least encouraged him to open his eyes once more.

"My god..." Words barely escaped the mouth of the smaller creature as he took a deep breath in amazement.

Right before his very eyes, yawning wide and without restraint, the entrance to the gullet stretched forth. He noticed how the transition from mouth to esophagus was instantaneous without barriers, and likely by design, for this surely allowed the turtle to snatch and swallow as much prey that she wished without being hindered from physiological reasons. At least, the human assumed this to be a seamless entrance, for it was difficult to tell. He simply figured the end of the tongue to be the start of the throat, but the deathly elongated spikes of flesh surrounding him seemed to continue down into the gullet, albeit much smaller and with finer detail, almost like the bristles of a brush.

Peering down into the esophagus became mystifying. Alain couldn't tell whether or not the sparkling seen was due to tiny amounts of moonlight reflecting back at him, or if the turtle's internal body possessed some miniscule form of light. An inky abyss lay right before his eyes, yet while squinting, he saw tiny lights seemingly affixed to what he'd believe to be glowing from the tips of those tiny spikes. There seemed to be hundreds to thousands of them, and in that way they seemed to mimic the night sky above him. His heart felt ready to burst through his chest as his breath rate escalated; tiny thumps vibrating through to the turtle's tongue, letting her sense every bit of his emotional status. He squirmed forward, ready to thrust himself within the inky blackness, yet fear gripped his nerves. With as much strength as it took to slide inwards there was almost as much counteraction simply from how taut his arms and hands became against the muscle he lay upon. Even the slow ministrations administered by his hands became nothing more than harmless scratches as they attempted to find purchase. He heard nothing through the ears, and yet he swore words spoke in his mind. Perhaps, he thought, it was a psychic link being forged between him and the spirit as he understood the thoughts from the turtle. She didn't seem upset that the forward movements ceased, but instead almost compassionate and understanding that human will and emotions often clashed with each other.

While the tongue arched upwards and the mouth closed around the human's body, he took quick and erratic breaths through his nose. Without the outside world's fresh breeze and the clean air it provided, however little it may have been, he felt trapped with the obnoxious scents swirling upwards from the unknown. The bed of flesh he lay upon shifted from left to right ever so slightly. Each movement, miniscule as it may be, happened to be just enough to prod the bare skin of the human's arms against distinct spikes jutting from the sides of the mouth. This naturally caused him to stretch forward to avoid being prodded by the hazardous pieces of flesh. It happened to be quite a genius design, as the high level thinking of the human's brain kicked in, for it made him realize that this allowed any prey to either be torn apart or at least be given even an ounce of hope for survival. In turn, however, that temporary safety meant that any body was made all the easier to slide inside. This became extremely present as a fact as his hands brushed over the smaller ridges coating the esophageal walls. The jaws around him creaked ever so silently as they began to close and the beak clamped like a seal around his buttocks. There was no where to go other than straight forward.

Saliva began to raise in levels without dryer air of the outside world opposing the naturally moist interior of the mouth. Alain had remained so enamored with the structure and sights of the turtle's maw that he hadn't paid much attention to the liquids, or at least up until now when his woolen clothing quickly absorbed the saliva. It seemed to build up from below to the mostly immobile tongue to create a pool of the slick substance, while globules of the liquid slowly created strands stretching from the tips of the shredding flesh to the back of his shirt. Quick jutting motions of the head pushing away from the turtle's body, and then back in with the jaws clamping tightly, created a dizzying sensation in the human's mind. What he noticed, however, was that every motion caused him to come closer to the ever expanding throat; both his perception and imagination caused it to appear larger than reality. It simply stunned him, and he stared forward with mouth agape.

Evidently the spirit had ruled that the teasing sights and motions for long enough, for the flat tongue ever so slightly pushed upwards in its entirety. Sharp prods from the fleshy protrusions nicked and poked at the human's backside. They bent ever so delicately against his skin while keeping a firm hook around the fabric itself. Intense pressure built up around his body as the muscles in the entrance to the throat clenched harsh around his arms, leaving behind a film of saliva and bubbled air; he counted his blessings between breaths that this area of the throat was the only safe region, and his fingers gently pressed into the smooth muscle to notify that he was alright, even if the turtle cared not. A downward descent followed while he watched flesh constrict around his arms, and soon after block his vision while it hugged against his head and shoulders. The ridges in the mouth clenched against his body, and he was sucked forward against his will.

Gravity shifted and followed a downward slope as the turtle's beak pointed skyward to aid in swallowing. Alain understood well that she was taking her time, and in a way he was incredibly thankful. Looking forward, the spectral lights being the only thing to guide his path in the inky darkness, he made quick note of how utterly expansive the throat remained despite the previous contractions around his upper body. His shirt ripped and tore against the hook-like flesh above. From the sides and below the rest of his upper torso the shirt was ripped away to leave his skin bare to the flesh of the creature, at which a powerful tingle rippled down his spine. It was an eerie and surreal feeling to have the throat flesh suckle at his slick form. As he traveled downwards, so too did his legs receive the same treating applied to the torso, this being felt in full as the pants snagged against that same flesh to be effortlessly torn apart. A strange sensation caught his imagination however, as he pushed his hands to feel forwards in the endless darkness. He wasn't actually moving position at all, but instead stayed in a sort of gridlock. The spirit, in truth, extended her neck after every passing undulation. Retracting it right after, and swiftly jutting the head forward, she was able to keep the human trapped in the same location in the neck.

Every swallow created an oscillation in the throat, yet the lights Alain grew accustomed to witnessing didn't seem to move accordingly. Instead they followed their own set of patterns, and at this point he was sure in that it truly was a painting of the stars in the night keeping their position. The spiny extensions of the flesh melded down into what felt to be soft grooved flesh that deftly guided his body on a one track route. Quiet smacks of the muscle quickly touching and leaving his body ringed within his ears as the larger creature treated him to a full body massage. Every few seconds he spread his toes and widened his legs in preparation for the oncoming wall of flesh to enclose around him from the back. Each time it was strong enough to force his lower appendages together and keep tightly shut the toes against the feet, tickling him yet giving an overpowering constricting sensation which reminded him exactly his position. Slowly the flesh rolled up along his buttocks and groin, giving a powerful rubbing without friction involved, to the point that the action felt provocative. He reveled in the sensations as his smooth body was played and manipulated with what could be considered the least amount of effort imaginable.

Rolling around ever so slightly, legs kicking and hands failing to grasp at the excessively slick muscle, Alain tried to reorient himself. Every time a passing wave of flesh clenched against his body, he'd press back with his elbows and knees. With enough time this allowed him to lay upon his sides, or so the force of gravity tugging below allowed him to believe that was his orientation. It became a struggle simply due to how often the undulations occurred. Even then he found out that the slick environment would hardly lend him much ability to twist about, but he managed to do so with enough dedication and time. He at least reveled and gained a sick pleasure in feeling how the saliva arched and stretched between his appendages and themain body whenever he stretched differently. It allowed him to realize just how busy the body stayed at attempting to process his body. Not only that, but the flesh became ever more beautiful the more he stared. Nothing could be made out, yet the tiny dots of light made him feel as though he was constantly covered in the blanket of the night sky while floating aimlessly. He truly felt at peace with himself during a time that meant his soon-to-be death.

Indulgence is very much an aspect of a sinful mind, and the human knew this very well. Before he could lose himself to the sensations, thinking this to be a test of sorts, he began mustering every bit of his strength to pleasure the great spirit he currently resided within. That in itself was a difficult concept to grasp his mind around; his brain trying to convince himself that this be nothing more than a dream. Curling partially into a fetal position, his legs clenching together with heels near his buttocks, he pressed his hands against the tunnel of flesh at its next muscular contraction and grabbed just before it rolled along his hands. He specifically heard his fingers sloshing in the slick saliva while shifting against the muscle as he kneaded and massaged as best he could. The digits fumbled and slid easily, but his short nails found purchase in a part of anatomy he did not realize existed until now. There were structures in the esophagus, sharp and pointed downwards to go along with natural motions, to ensure that prey in no way be able to escape. They were barely larger than a single tip of a finger, yet they became increasingly more obvious as he pet along the esophageal walls. It warmed him, to a degree, to know that even if the turtle rejected him that he would at least be put through the same fate as the rest of his town; being nothing more than a meal became a sense of pride for him. Clenching and squeezing, he paid special attention to every protrusion he felt. It did not matter if he had given special care to each papillae prior, but simply that he was fulfilling the precursory actions to his duty of being a meal for the turtle. He barely even noticed as his body became manipulated ever more by the shifting flesh around him, for his body followed a specific shape as the locale became ever more tight. The same protrusions which he massaged as well became larger and more imposing, further restricting his movements or else he risk slicing his skin. Dutiful, however, he simply used the joints in his arm and legs to grasp around each of the large pieces of excess flesh to haphazardly massage in every little possible manner. The smells around him increased as well, to the point that it became difficult to breathe. Not only did the saliva block his nostrils, the human having to snort constantly to free his nasal tract of the invasive liquid, but the sheer magnitude of stench from the inner body strangled his lungs in the hot and moist atmosphere.

Spiny protrusions near instantaneously shifted to a much more homogenous form with deep ridges felt within it. All of the scents, the tightening of the flesh, and even the increasing size of the spines finally made sense to Alain. He not only neared the stomach, but he finally began entering within it. A sudden blast of hot air hit his face as he passed seamlessly through from the esophagus to the stomach cavity. Retching slightly from the intense and near unbearable scents, he writhed as he attempted to reach back and cover his own face as he was very quickly shocked back to reality. He flopped against the sticky flesh beneath him as it felt as though he became wedged between portions of the folded flesh, and it left him utterly stunned at the realization of it all. He remained completely motionless as the muscle around him idly performed its natural cycles. Only his fingers moved ever so slightly while still laying upon his side, flicking against the squeezing muscle as if only to every so often reconfirm the status of his location. Powerful thumps could be felt through the thick walls, as he recognized the rhythm to be a heartbeat. He wished to kick, scream, and plea for help or mercy to be released. Shaking slightly, feeling chills across his skin despite being overheated and sweating profusely in the already humid environment, he lay with his mouth open and gasping for air.

Even here Alain saw tiny specks of light which constituted his only sense of position, or at least the proximity of the flesh around him. Strangely even here they gave off no credible amount of light to make out what it all truly looked like, but it seemed more than clear that it wasn't necessary. Ever so idly contractions of the stomach took place, identifying a source of food, and went about transporting him just like the esophagus, albeit at a more relaxed pace. Also in the stomach he felt the flesh expand beneath him, creating almost a sort of pocket, before it squeezed around him with the ceiling of the stomach pushing down to wedge him ever deeper. Sounds of moving liquid along muscle created a slight echo along with more intense vibrations in the flesh itself. The arm and side of his body which he still lay upon slowly gained a itching annoyance. Attempting to move his arms and hands to scratch at his bare skin became an arduous task in itself, for any pressure applied to move orchange his orientation often ended up in him flopping uselessly like a fish out of water. The muscle felt like a jelly when pressed in against despite being rock hard when tightening.

A puddle of thick liquid came into contact with the hair on the human's head while moving ever forwards. It quickly soaked into and between the short-cut strands during the forward descent and soon became enough to almost entirely submerge his face. This panicked him, and increased his vitality just enough to flail around in place. Finally he changed his position, but he simply lay on his back again, with his face barely sticking above what he finally recognized to be the noxious liquids of the stomach. Auditory senses shifted from the open air to sounding as though it be muddled in water, but the tones far off from normal. It was a sickening perversion, as in a twisted way he more clearly heard the moving body around him; the thicker gastric juices combined with saliva conveying the melody of digestive actions. Skin became quickly irritated, and while he naturally tried to avert the sensations, no escape could be had. Even if there came a chance his body simply became unable to gain any traction with the slime covered walls, allowing him to sink ever further into a helpless state of mind.

The texture below Alain changed, and the lining transitioned once more to being extremely smooth and slick. At this point, even when he tried to roll his shoulders so they could slip with movement, and seemingly only aid the larger body in positioning his own within the pit of the gut. He never truly thought a worse stench could be had than the ambient odor of the stomach, but when the guttural actions kicked with more gusto, he was proved otherwise that there still remained something more for him to indulge upon. Gastric juices climbed in level as the stomach area shrank due to its constrictions along his body. Not only did the churning every so often temporarily submerge his face, but the dutiful squeezing forced the vile liquid into every opened pore upon his body. Gagging simply made it worse, for this only allowed another point of entry for that which he wished to expel or reacted to reflexively. Even after the muscle parted away from his body it left behind strands of the liquid, almost like a placeholder for when the levels rose again.

Fresh breathable air degenerated beyond the point of supporting any life, let alone that of a grown body. Vision warped for Alain, as the pseudo-stars which could be seen in every direction moved in and away towards his body almost at random. At one point, during his slipping consciousness, he felt as though the stomach he rest upon gaveway to a cold and empty void. He knew very well that he rested in the belly of a giant turtle which exerted unbearable heat upon his body, but he couldn't shake what his brain tried to tell him. He tried to resist and keep himself in reality, but with the delusions came a creeping sense of peace. It finally dawned on him that he set out to accomplish what he intended to do earlier in the evening. Letting out one final breath he allowed himself to snuggle down into the flesh of the stomach. It felt like floating in a cloud to him as the nerves in his body flickered and lost the ability to relay touch. Once again he felt proud that he became a meal for the spirit. Closing his eyes, the swirl of lights transitioned into what appeared to be a fog behind the eyelids. After a few more moments everything became entirely black, and his last thoughts were that of his town; a town that, through his sacrifice, shall surely prosper with a spirit feeling indulged after the first willing sacrifice she received in centuries.