You let out a tiny sigh, one that's an equal mix of defeat and content, and relax. It is nice in here, after all, and the only way out is the way you came in. Well, the only way out in one piece, at any rate. Your blue flesh is coated in stomach fluids now, slick against your skin as the walls softly knead at you. A small pool of juices, presumably acid, has begun to gather at the bottom of your prison.
Except... you don't really feel like this is a prison. As dire as your circumstances are you just don't seem to care about anything outside of the elven beauty's belly. The calm heartbeat above steadily calms whatever fears may have remained as you try to position yourself upright.
You feel her hand press against her stomach flesh and respond by gently pressing yours back from the inside. "Is this what you wanted to test?" you ask.
She belches. "Of course! It was a taste test, silly." She pokes at her massive gut, smiling as you give an involuntary wiggle in response. "I've never eaten a Draenei before so I just had to try one out." She lets out a cute hiccup. "Thanks again." Her tone changes now,shifting from pleasant to suspicious as you feel her staring at her distended belly. "All my other meals have tried to escape, or at least struggle. Why aren't you?"
"Well, I did say I'd help you, didn't I?" you chuckle nervously. The stomach grumbles loudly around you, likely to begin digestion in earnest. Since you're at the mercy of her stomach now there's nothing to do but talk. You gently poke at her stomach walls and she responds by rubbing back. "How many other people have you eaten?" you ask, more curious than horrified.
"Of course!" she responds, jovial as ever. "I've eaten humans, night elves, gnomes, orcs, even a few tuaren. In fact, I've had meals from every race on Azeroth. I guess you could say I'm... cataloging their flavors. For science, of course."
The sphincter above you opens and a cascade of liquid douses you. The suddenness of it is a shock but you gather your wits quickly as the scent graces your nostrils: wine.
Her voice echoes. "Sorry dear. I just wanted to mark the occasion of my first willing meal with a special vintage. No hard feelings?" She's teasing you but you hear a hint of apology in her voice. Her stomach is pressing against you from all sides now and the gastric juices are seeping into your skin. If you were having second thoughts about becoming her breakfast then this would be your only chance at escape, but now that you've been here for so long the urge to stay is even greater than before.
