From the Canary's Point of View

I was too confused to say anything as she started to shove me inside. This isn’t even possible! She’s the same size I am! But I couldn’t deny the reality of the raspy tongue rubbing at my body, the hot, slick muscles that contracted around me—the force of gravity pulling all the blood to my head as I slid inexorably downward.

As I opened my mouth to protest, I felt her tug my slacks off, then my boxers. Her tongue began to work on me in earnest, and I was soon too distracted to say a word.

My next coherent thought came when I found myself bunched up in a ball inside a wet, slimy, hot pouch of flesh. “Wh—where am I?” I whimpered. But the purring that was coming from all around me was enough to tell me. “What did you do to me?”

“Just what I said I would,” her voice said, strangely distorted by the flesh around me. “I had you for lunch.” I felt a gentle pressure—she was rubbing her tummy. “My boss was going to get rid of you anyway—so I thought I’d claim you instead. Why waste a good meal?” she purred.

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