On my way home from work Friday I ran my usually errands. Dry cleaning, bank, pharmacy, pet store. I was especially excited for my last stop. No, I wasn’t getting dog food. I don’t own pets. Eat too much food.
Actually, I was here for my own supply. I walk slowly through the upscale pet department looking through the glass in the small animal section. I only buy from clean establishments.
The store attendant and I are very familiar with each other now, since I frequent this store nearly every other week. I get my usual dozen “fancy mice” of various colors and sizes. I also spot something new, something I haven’t seen before. The black bear hamster and teddy bear hamsters, both in the same cage playing on a purple wheel attached to the aquarium’s side. I splurge and get both. It was a three-day weekend anyway.
Next stop is Pasta Pronto, my favorite place for moderately priced Italian takeout. I get two pans along with some breadsticks and dipping sauce.
When I return home I place my companions on the table and immediately go to work on the pasta in the living room. In just 20 minutes I have finished an entire pan of tortellini and a half a pan of the penne. My stomach feels like it’s holding a medicine ball.
Unbuttoning my dress blue dress shirt is somewhat of a chore, but it’s worth it when I peel back my undershirt to expose the monster underneath. My abs are now protruding out beyond recognition. For an amateur body builder it’s an amazing feeling, being this big. I heave myself up and grab my boxes of friends who are scurrying about inside as their world turns in circle.
I place them onto the living room floor in a homemade playpen and watch as they explore new territory. One decides to immediately climb the tower I’ve made out of old toilet paper rolls. Thinking he’s the bravest of the bunch, I gently grab him by the tail and lift him into the air, coming to rest on my belly. The sight is amazing. This creature will soon be two or three inches lower, beneath my skin.
I lean back and enjoy the irony of this scene; the warrior mouse exploring the bellybutton that is the nonexistent exit from my belly. Not wanting to delay any further, I pick him up again and bring him to my eyes, where I smile. The white flash of my teeth somewhat frightens him so I quickly take on a less offensive expression and smile slightly. I then stick out my tongue as far as it will reach, as if extending a palms-down hand to an animal to communicate confidence. I place the brave mouse on my tongue and breathe only threw my nose. He turns around and sniffs the air, high above his other mates.
Once he turns back around with his head facing my mouth, I quickly pull him inside and flick him to the back of my throat. There’s a slight struggle and I use the back of my tongue to push him firmly down my throat until I feel him in my neck. Using my peristaltic muscles I work him down my esophagus and into my very full belly. There is a muffled squeal as he comes to rest on top of the cheesy pasta.
The next one, a light brown one of medium size puts up quite a struggle even just in the air. Wanting to ensure safety for both of us, I lift his squirming body above my head and open my mouth up as wide as I can until my jaw slightly unhinges. This allows my throat to fully open up, pushing my tongue out so it’s not in the way. As I let go of its tail I see its tail quickly try to regain balance before it is swallowed into a gurgling hole and transported to join his brave friend.
I grab two more and head for the bathroom, grabbing a glass of water along the way. I place on mouse in a tall, glass cub on the vanity and prepare the other for departure. The first mouse goes into my mouth and explores my gums and teeth with enthusiasm. I bring my mouth so that it is directly in view of the other mouse and use my tongue to strategically move the first mouse backward. For added effect, I make a slight roaring sound before I gulp him down with a loud slurp. When I bring my eyes back into focus the mouse in the cup is frozen in horror.
I grin and lift up my shirt, my hairy gut now swaying with three mice inside.
“Your friends were quite tasty,” I saw patting the top of my belly.
As I rub my stomach I feel the mice moving through the pasta trying to find a way to the surface. The next mouse knows what is coming, so I have to be extra careful. I fill the tall glass with water and begin to chug as the mouse attempts to out swim my drinking. Eventually the glass becomes too slippery and the mouse is sent straight into my stomach like an oversized vitamin.
I grow bored with mice and decide to try out my two friends in the other box. The first hamster is black, his fur soft and silky. He should go down amazingly.
First I mentally prepare myself, placing the hamster on my belly and visualizing it inside. After forming an action plan I turn to the bathroom mirror for guidance and open my mouth. I liberally wet all areas, ensuring ample saliva for an easier transition into meal status.
I decide to swallow him with his head facing out, and very slowly and gently place him inside my mouth, allowing ample space for him to feel secure, while also holding his front paws lightly in my fingers. I open my throat and try to slowly let him slide backward until his lower body is halfway into my throat. When he figures out what is going on and tries to make a run for it I quickly grip his lower body and remove my hands so that I can see what is going on. Before me is a sight I had only imagined could happen. A struggling animal lay halfway inside my throat, my gut sticking out ready to accept its meal.
The hamster began to squeal and I knew it was time to stop playing with my food. I used two fingers to push him the rest of the way through and my other hand to guide the lump through my throat and chest and into my belly.
There was a noticeable difference in activity level once the hamster joined the mix. The poor black fuzz ball began to whine as I sat down on the toilet to rest. All was calm for a few minutes until it decided to fight back again and began to push itself toward the outside of my stomach wall, making a noticeable “bump.”
Before long I grew tired of the squealing and the squirming and gave my belly a few firm slaps.
“Shut up in there,” I demanded. It continued to annoy me.
I began to squish my belly from side to side using both my abdominal muscles and my bare hands (hah). This quieted him down some.
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