You might be constructed by Sandra's tight belly, but her words have finally ignited fear into your heart. "I-it doesn't matter, just let me out!" You try to thrash, but the best you can muster is to push out against the walls a bit. While they had stretched before to accommodate you, they seemed not to want you to move them at all anymore. It was like a marshmallow had turned into steel, that was how drastic the stomach had changed.
Sandra laughed. "Look, I made him scared!" The mocking is palpable, you can hear the laughter and jeers from inside the walls of the stomach, disheartening you. Your furious flails amounted to little more than something these cruel cheerleaders could ridicule. To them, you seemed to be as worthless as food. The most you could hope for is to just sit tight and pray her acids couldn't break you down.
...
A few hours of more drinking later, Sandra swung open the door to her own house. She had walked home, not wanting to fall asleep there on case anyone tried to steal her little snack. He was HERS, and she had to be the one to digest this cute little morsel.
Sandra beelined for her bed and flopped down on top of it, watching her belly sway back and forth from the weight of the man trapped inside of it.
You're still conscious, waiting for sleep to come. You can feel a slight tingle, but it's hard to tell. She's gulped down so much alcohol that you've wound up swallowing some too. You think it might be starting to burn in the dank confines of her belly, but you could be wrong. Now that she's home, you might be able to convince her to throw you up or something. But how to do that...?
