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Cursed Cravings, Chapter 13: Matters of the Flesh

In which Danny finds herself in the belly of the beast. Contains: 3.4k words | Chapter 1 | Read this story on A03!

There was so much noise.

Ever since Christopher’s lips closed behind her head, there had been nothing to illuminate the fate that awaited her—but she couldn’t have anticipated how much sound there would be, nearly deafening as it suffocated her along with the giant muscle of his tongue.

It was like she was underwater. The noise inside of Christopher roared in her ears—the sound of his swallows and heartbeat, the huge rushes of air from his lungs, the wet noise of saliva that churned around her and weighed down her clothes. It covered every inch of her.

She felt like she couldn’t breathe.

Her face was pressed firmly against the roof of his mouth, and then the bumpy taste buds of his tongue, and then the softer tissue that might have been his cheek. She couldn’t tell. It was all so much all at once, a horrifying rush of disgust, fear, and shock that ran through her body continuously, like she’d been set aflame and left to burn.

She didn’t dare open her mouth. A scream pulsed inside of her chest, threatening the edge of her throat, but it remained inside of her for now. It was like she was choking on it, unable to bring air into her lungs.

Her chest was tight, pressed between inescapable, awful variations of flesh from every angle. She felt the back of Christopher’s teeth against the top of her head.

At least he hadn’t bitten down. He intended to swallow her whole. Alive.

It was far from a comforting thought.

She prayed that whatever was going to happen, it would be quick. It felt like she was suspended in slow motion.

Her body went backwards. No, the whole space went backwards. The pressure that had been holding her in place fell away, and his tongue relaxed beneath her.

There was nothing beneath her feet.

The sound of a swallow echoed from all around her as her body was pulled downwards suddenly, so quick it made her gasp. She was met with an even tighter, smoother kind of flesh that greedily tugged her into it, until it surrounded her completely.

His throat.

She was being swallowed.

Panic rose in her—blooming from her heart to every nerve in every limb like a match that had been struck, searing the blood in her veins. She did not want to die. Every new, strange sensation made it harder and harder to believe Christopher’s reassurance that she would be safe. How could she possibly be safe?

It already felt like his body was taking from her—like it was breaking her down before she even reached his stomach. The heat, the pressure, the disgusting saliva that felt like it was sinking into her pores—it all made her so weary, like it was draining the life right out of her.

She could be dying—though if she was, it wasn’t at all like what she’d thought it’d be. She’d thought dying would be cold and empty—not like this. Not warm and overwhelming and inside a creature she’d thought to be her friend.

You’ll be safe.

Christopher’s throat dragged her further down. The flesh of it squeezed her shoulders uncomfortably.

She couldn’t remember when she’d last taken a breath.

Her head spun.

You’ll be safe.

Something opened beneath her toes again. Flesh gave way to an open space—her feet, then her legs entered through a tight ring of muscle, sliding wetly against the sides of what must have been Christopher’s stomach before the rest of her followed. As soon as her head had entered the area, no longer restrained by flesh, she took a deep and strained breath of the stagnant, warm air inside of her new prison.

A few dizzying seconds passed. She sat frozen, curling as tightly as she could into a ball in an attempt to touch as little of the fleshy, pulsing stomach walls as she could.

She kept her eyes squeezed closed, waiting.

The giant’s heartbeat began to slow. It was a loud, inescapable sound now—she was so close to his heart, nestled quite literally amongst his veins. It sounded as though the throbbing organ was right above her. Bigger than her whole body.

His lungs began to draw in air at a steady pace.

Nothing happened.

Another minute passed—and it was less a spark of optimism, but confusion that prompted her to draw her head away from her knees and open her eyes warily, even if doing so was pointless in the pitch black space.

She cautiously extended her hands beneath her, pawing carefully at the walls and floor of the space. It was wet and disgusting and…alive, but she realized that there were no acids or pools of liquid waiting in here to dissolve her. She thought that was how stomachs worked. Truthfully, she didn’t know for sure.

But one thing was certain. She was alive. She wasn’t dying—not the way she’d thought she would be, anyways. For now, she was alive.

As much as her mind demanded she stay vigilant, fight, rebel, and escape, she could feel her body whimper weakly in defiance. It was too warm. Too loud. Too wet, too moving, too close. Too…confusing. She began to feel further and further away from her body until the blackness that surrounded her sunk into her head as well.

She fell back against the stomach’s folds, her consciousness extinguishing like a suddenly snuffed out lamp.

The first thing to wake her was Christopher’s heartbeat—slow, steady, and thundering.

The next thing she heard was a muffled, familiar voice.

His voice. Not the monster’s. His.

“Danny?” He sounded weak, like his words were stretched out thin and quiet. “Can you hear me?”

Her eyes slowly opened—and she was still met with darkness all around her. She was still in his stomach, surrounded on all sides by flesh and covered in disgusting, heavy saliva.

But she wasn’t dead.

“...Christopher?” Her voice cracked, uncertain and timid. She tried to use the back of her hand to wipe the saliva off of her face. It only made the problem worse. She scowled.

She was met with silence.

She took the opportunity to gather herself as much as she could, trying to turn her focus from how disgusting she felt and how strange this place was to more immediate feelings, running down a mental checklist.

She could breathe. Somehow. It wasn’t the freshest air, but it was air nonetheless.

On that note, as she thought on it further, she realized it didn’t smell…bad. It didn’t actually smell like anything inside of Christopher. She couldn’t even recall his breath having a scent. It was an absence she hadn’t been able to appreciate until now when her mind was clearer, but it was, she realized, an incredible mercy atop a host of other awful sensations.

It wasn’t suffocatingly hot. Warm, yes, humid, definitely, but it wasn’t so much that she would suffer from heat stroke by staying in here for long. It was like…a muggy summer’s day, in the shade. While she was drenched in spit. God. That’s the worst part. It’s fucking everywhere.

She found that she was breathing evenly, and her heart rate had gone down to a normal pace—matching, she thought, with Christopher’s much louder one.

She was alive. She was fine.

She was safe.

“Christopher,” she repeated, her voice a little firmer now. She tried to stay calm. “Can you hear me? Can you get me out?”

There was no response.

She pushed against the nearest stomach wall in a further bid to grab his attention.

It felt as though the giant’s entire body tensed up—a shift that was impossible to miss from her current position.

“Danny,” Christopher repeated. “I’m…I’m so sorry.” His voice was leaden and heavy with regret. “I didn’t want…I didn’t want this to happen. Not to you. I couldn’t…”

The giant choked on a sob, and the stomach contracted sharply around her. She held out her hands quickly to keep herself from tumbling about, trying to maintain what little balance she had. Her fingers slipped against his flesh—she retracted them with a grimace.

“I’m sorry. I…you’re safe, Danny. You’re safe. I promise. I…I can bring you back out now. Just hold on. I’ll get you out.” Each word carried a stilted, hollow edge to it.

Hope surged in her veins. He was going to get her out. He hadn’t lied—she would be fine. It would all be fine.

“Thank fuck,” she muttered, relief flooding her chest. “Thank fucking god.”

She held her breath, unsure of what to expect next but bracing herself regardless. She felt it as the soft surface beneath her moved and almost seemed to rise upward, pushing her further against the stomach walls and briefly compressing her against them as something pressed in on the space from the outside.

She did her best not to move, closing her eyes again as she submitted to whatever was happening.

He’s getting me out. I’m going to be safe. I’m going to be safe.

She tried to use that as a mantra to keep herself calm, focusing on the words instead of the myriad of sensations that plagued her in the darkness. A sudden thrust beneath her sent her upwards, back into Christopher’s throat as she slid up and up, agonizingly slowly.

She wasn’t sure whether she wanted to cry or scream. Both, she thought. Both at once. The space was too tight, too constricting, like the feeling of a corset strung too tightly, squeezing against not just her ribs but every bone in her body all at once. A horrible pressure began to build up in her head, and she wasn’t sure if it was her skull about to split apart, or a lack of air in her lungs. Either way, she swore she was beginning to see stars in the darkness.

Safe. I’m safe. Going to be—

It was getting harder to concentrate on words. Her brain felt like mush, barely holding onto what little bit of consciousness she was unfortunate enough to maintain.

A more open space greeted her head and she gasped desperately for air. It rushed to her lungs with a dizzying speed, sending her abruptly into a state of clarity. She had reached the top of his throat and was being deposited back into his mouth—she could see, from the bare glimpse of light that filtered in through his open lips ahead of her.

What she could see made her want to shut her eyes again—teeth as big as her head, the rough and bumpy surface of his giant tongue, the sheen of saliva that coated every surface. But the light was a promise of escape, and it brought with it a relief so all-encompassing it emptied her of everything else until she was lighter than air.

As soon as she could manage to move, she thrust her arms out in a desperate attempt to grab onto any surface she could, hoping to pull herself forward and out. Christopher’s lips parted wider, and he reached in with a pair of huge fingers to retrieve her—noticeably normal fingers, without claws or any sort of dark discoloration to be seen. There was, however, still some blood dried on his fingertips.

She didn't hesitate to grab onto them, and let the giant pull her out.

She spoke as soon as there was no more threat of Christopher’s saliva getting into her own mouth.

“Christopher! Thank god, thank god. I—” She took a moment to realize she was shaking terribly in his palm, before he placed her down onto the soft surface of his mattress. There was a small towel placed near her, which she eagerly wrapped herself in. She began removing as much of the heavy, disgusting slime off of her as she could.

She looked up to see that Christopher was sitting on the opposite edge of the bed as far away from her as he could be, his back to her and his head in his hands. He’d placed her as far away from himself as he could.

His horns no longer twisted and spiraled past his head—in fact, she couldn't see any horns at all.

The concern that twisted in her gut at the sight was mixed with a new sense of wariness, but she took a deep breath and walked towards the giant anyways, dragging the towel with her.

“...I didn't think I was going to see you again,” she admitted softly, stopping a giant arm's length away from Christopher. “You scared me, bastard.”

Christopher's head turned slowly to face her. The complete, monstrous blackness was gone from his eyes—she could see red tinging the whites of them again. His ashen face had trails of dried tears running subtly down it, and a bit of blood was smeared across his cheek from his fingers.

He didn't speak. His lips pursed together tightly before he looked away again, like it was painful for him to look at Danny at all.

She took a few more steps closer to him. There was a worried quivering in her gut, a sense of danger that screamed in her head now that she knew what this giant was capable of. She did her best to push through it, trying not to think about him suddenly whipping around to grab her with claws outstretched and eyes black as coal.

Her eyes traveled to the bloodstain on the side of his shirt. It was still fresh. “Let me see your hands,” she insisted, crossing her arms defiantly as she let the towel fall down to the bedspread.

She saw the look of confusion on Christopher's face as he slowly turned back to look at her again, but he complied. One giant palm was slowly lowered to his side so she could see. His fingers were trembling. He didn't extend it any closer to her.

“Flip it over,” she commanded.

Christopher winced, and did as she asked, unfurling his fingers to reveal…nothing. There were no bleeding wounds on his palm—it was like they'd never been there at all. There was only blood, already drying out on his skin, most of it having been wiped off on his shirt.

“They healed,” Christopher croaked hoarsely. It was the first thing he'd said since Danny had been taken out of him. “When I eat someone, it heals any injuries I have.”

He spoke with a detached, stiff tone, as if he was reciting from one of his books. The same way he’d spoken about the peacocks before, and the pride and nobility they represented for his family.

She nodded as if what he said made any sense, and as if thinking about being eaten didn't make her shaking worse. “That's good.”

She wasn't sure where to even start.

Christopher retracted his hand and rubbed his face wearily, letting out a long, trembling breath. “I should have just sent you away before it got so bad,” he muttered softly. “I should have known I couldn't contain it for that long. I’d never contained it for that long before.”

“What do you mean?” Danny asked, keeping her voice gentle instead of accusatory. “Christopher, tell me what’s going on. You were…possessed or something. What…was that?”

He swallowed nervously. The sight made Danny flinch.

He noticed, and his eyes went cold.

“It…happens every few weeks. I have to…” he grimaced as he looked out the window ahead of him, “eat a human, or I lose control of myself. As you just witnessed.” He sighed. “Obviously, it’s not meant to be fatal. I’ll be fine for another few weeks now.”

A few weeks…

Her eyes widened as a horrifying thought came over her. “Wait…does that mean…when Nathan came here, you ate him?” Her voice almost cracked with emotion, though she couldn’t quite get a handle on what emotion it was. She should be angry, but she couldn’t summon her usual rage.

“I did,” he admitted quietly. “I hadn’t eaten a human in over two months when he came here. I was long past the ability to control myself.” He bit his bottom lip before he turned towards her, his face distraught. “I’m so sorry, Danny. If it’s any consolation, he doesn’t remember anything. I took his memories when he left.”

Her heart beat dully against her ribs. “You…what?”

He averted his gaze from her again. “The only mercy I can afford the ones who come here, who I have to…consume…is that I can take their memories of this place. The memories of me. That way, I’m the only one who bears the burden of the atrocities I’m forced to commit, and they can go free, just as they were before.” He glared down at the floor before his features softened again into a vacant, weary expression. “I can do the same for you.”

Danny took a few steps back instinctively, shock plastered across her face. “What? No!”

He turned to face her again, eyebrows knitted together in genuine confusion. “What do you mean? You don’t want to forget that?”

She chewed on her lip as she considered it further, past her initial reaction. Finally, she shook her head slowly, averting her own eyes to the bed beneath her feet. “I don’t want to forget this place. I…I like Sam, and that story you read me, and the ball, and…” She scrunched her face together slightly, as if in thought. “...and no, I don’t want to forget you either, bastard.”

She gave him a friendly scowl. “You had a rough start, but you’re not so bad. You were kind to me when you didn’t have to be. And I…I know that what happened, I know that…that wasn’t you. You were fighting it.”

She could still remember it so clearly, the way he’d strained against himself to speak to her, just before she was thrust into his mouth.

You’ll…be…safe…

Christopher shook his head, staring at her with wide eyes in disbelief. “It shouldn’t have happened to you at all. I shouldn’t have kept you here. I…” He choked on his words.

Her eyes softened. “The month of keeping me here…it was for this, wasn’t it? So you could eat me? Not because of…trespassing, or whatever?”

Guilt seared into Christopher’s face. He nodded stiffly. “That was the plan,” he whispered. “But…things…changed. I didn’t want to subject you to that. I tried to resist it. I tried.” He choked back the sound of a strangled sob.

She shook her head, baffled. “Then…why keep me here? If you didn’t want me to be…eaten. What was the point?”

He laughed, a sound completely devoid of humor. “Because I’m a selfish bastard, Danny. I…enjoyed your company.” He spoke the words like they burned his tongue as he said them. “I don’t like turning into…that. I don’t like to lose control of myself. But the more time I spent with you, the more I realized I…didn’t want to do that to you. I couldn’t. You were…my friend.”

He sighed wearily. “I thought I could make it until the end of the month. I…it was just a nice change of pace, to have someone else around for once. I wanted to hold onto it, as long as I could. I wanted to try and regain control again, just so I could…say goodbye. But I never felt strong enough.” He growled to himself. “And you got hurt because of that.”

“I didn’t get hurt,” she admitted quietly. Anger and sadness and fear all coiled together beneath her skin and caused tears to form in the corners of her eyes. “And I enjoy your company too.”

He met her eyes with desperation and anguish clinging to the edges of his features—like her words stung him. “Danny…you should be scared of me. You’ve seen what happens to me. I’m a monster.”

She scowled up at him again, narrowing her eyes. “Don’t you tell me how I should feel, bastard.” She did her best to give him a look full of conviction, a glimmering promise that she used to inspire all the people in her life that she cared about. “You don’t have to suffer alone, you know. Have you really just been…dealing with this by yourself? Just you and Sam?”

How long HAS he been alone, exactly?

He blinked, clearly taken aback by her statement. “...yes,” he finally whispered, his voice meek and uncertain.

She took a deep breath and continued to walk towards the giant, each stride purposeful and determined. Christopher didn’t move, still frozen in some sort of shock.

She nearly slipped when she got close enough to him that the mattress dipped down, but she managed to maintain her footing as she placed a hand against his massive leg, craning her neck upwards to meet his eyes.

His dark irises betrayed a deep sense of confusion and regret, but if she looked a little closer, she could see the dim light of hope somewhere, buried far beneath the surface.

“You’re not alone anymore, okay? I’m your friend, Christopher. I’m not afraid of you.”

His hand beside her trembled.

And then, slowly, it reached out towards her. Christopher put a hand softly behind Danny, holding her close to his leg within the warm embrace of his palm. She leaned into the touch, closing her eyes as she pressed her face into the fabric of his pants.

“Thank you, Danny.”

She could hear it in his voice—finally, he smiled.

* * * * * * * * * *

The question still remains - now what?

We're not done yet, folks. Next week is chapter 14, Assurance! And thank you for reading!

#yeaaaaaaaaaaa!#soft vore #safe vore #vore stuff!#vore and angst and the power of friendship!#LETS GOOOOO #What a read!

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