In The Belly Of The Jungle: Part 1 (Patreon)

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The Jungle was mostly your typical bar and grill, but the thing that kept people coming back was the living meals.  And you used to be a regular, but thanks to a drunken bet, you’re on the food line now.  And your friends made /sure/ you couldn’t get out of this.  Damn them.

Your heart is beating fast as you stand with the other meat.  You’re being looked at by all kinds of predators, all of them hungry for new blood.  Some of the food furs looks just as nervous as you, while others look pretty calm.  Either way, the shackles around your wrists keep you from getting the fuck out of here.

“I’ll take her.  Gotta say, she looks tasty.”

You jump at the voice, but are relieved to see the rhino speaking isn’t talking about you, but a chipper zebra a few spots down.  The guard gives the customer a nod, and unlocks the shackles on the zebra.  Then a server scoops up the living food, and he and the customer are off to a private room.  Some of the feedings get . . . /intimate/, from what little about them you’ve heard, so it’s no wonder The Jungle’s decided to do things behind locked doors.

One by one, the meals around you are taken: some go kicking and screaming; some go quietly, some go resentfully; some go cheerfully.  The night trickles on, until it’s just you and two others left in the line.  Maybe you’ll make it until the end of the night with no one having picked you--that would be great, right?  Then you’d probably get to go home, laugh this off with your buds, and--

“Ooooo, I’ll take that one!  Looks like a reeeeeal bitch.”

You gulp, and look to see that this time, the predator /is/ talking about you: a white lioness, drunk off her ass and drooling like /crazy/.  She smirks.  “Bet she’ll go down nice and easy.  But I /got/ to sweeten her up first.”

The shackles are unlocked, and you get a glimpse of freedom before the server scoops you up, hoisting you behind their back.  His grip is stronger than you thought possible, and as you’re carried off to a private room to be enjoyed, your eyes meet with the food still remaining--the chipmunk looks scared for you, while the gorilla looks jealous.  You /certainly/ aren’t envious of your situation.

The server carries you through the crowded bar, and spectators glance over at you, their eyes hungry.  Finally, you’re brought to a private room, and the server plops you down on a table.  “And bring me a bottle of chocolate sauce,” the lioness says to him.  Dazed, you try to get off the table, but before you can really go anywhere, the server has closed and locked the door, shutting out all sound and leaving you two alone.

“Where do you think you’re going?” asks the lioness, hiccuping as she walks in front of you.  “It’s dinner time, silly.”  She rubs her belly, which rumbles loudly underneath her paw.  “And I’m reeeaaly hungry, got it?”

“Please!” you beg, clasping your hands together.  “I-I don’t want to be food, ok?  I’m just a regular person!”

“Too bad!”  The lioness yawned loudly.  “Ugh, I don’t want to hear your sob story!  Food should be /quiet.”

You gulp.  “C-Could you just swallow me and spit me up outside The Jungle?  Wait!” you scream, before the lioness can interrupt you.  “I promise, I’ll pay you whatever you want!”

She rubs her chin, and for a few seconds, her stomach’s grumbles and your panicked breaths are the only noises in the room.  “Fine, deal,” she says.

“Thank fucking god!” you say, breathing a sigh of relief.  “Thank you, thank you so much--”

“But on two conditions.”

You nod.  “Anything.”

She smiles.  “Condition one is that you go down nice and easy, no struggling.  And condition two,” she says, hiccuping again, “is that you don’t squirm when I cover you in chocolate sauce.  Messes up the taste pattern I’m going for.”

Taste pattern?  You aren’t entirely sure what she means, but you nod anyway.  Not like you have much of a choice--she /is/ saving your ass.  “Fine.  Deal.”

“Good.”  She bends down near the door and picks up a bottle of chocolate sauce--did the server drop that off already?  You didn’t even notice him come back!  “Then lie down niiice and easy on the table, sweetheart.  Let me flavor you up nice.”

You nod, and lean back onto the table, facing the ceiling.  “Bring your legs together and put your arms at your sides.”  You obey.  The lioness hovers above you, and when she licks her lips next, slobber drips down and wets your face.  “Good girl.  It’s go time.”

She walks over to your feet, and a moment later you feel something gooey dripping down on it--you know it has to be the chocolate sauce.  It really tickles, but you know if you screw this up you’re fucked, so you try and lie as still as possible, focusing on the ceiling and letting your body relax.

The lioness squirts chocolate sauce up your legs, dodging your penis area (thank fuck) then comes up your stomach, piling the stuff on your belly.  Next she goes up to your chest, squirts your arms, and as the final touch, puts a boopable amount of chocolate sauce on your nose.

“Niiiice,” she slurs, grinning goofily.  “Fuck, you look tasty.  Alright, down the hatch.”

“And then you’ll spit me out, right?” you remind her.  “Once you’ve had your fun?”

“What, you think I forgot?” she teases, standing in front of your legs.  “Nah, I didn’t forget.  Don’t worry.  It’ll be fiiiine.”

She opens her mouth wide, and you get a terrifying glimpse into her maw--her entire mouth is /dripping/ with drool, especially her teeth, and when she chomps down on your feet, a cold shudder goes up your spine at how /wet/ everything is.  Her tongue escapes her mouth and laps up the chocolate sauce, pressing against your skin, and she moans.  “Fuuuuuck, you taste good!” she exclaims, gulping your feet down.  The sudden pull makes you scream, and you’re yanked forward on the table.

Fear fills you as you watch her lick and swallow her way up your legs, and she enjoys you way more than you’re really comfortable with.  Her cries of delight add another layer of terror to the experience, and you gulp.  Will she really fulfill the deal you two made?

Before you know it she’s at your hips, and as her tongue tastes the last of your legs, you breathe a sigh of relief as she ignores your flaccid penis, simply swallowing it down like any other part of you.  Then you become terrified again as she makes her way up your stomach--much too quickly, for your liking--and then your arms are in her mouth and she’s lapping up your chest and OH FUCK JUST YOUR HEAD IS STICKING OUT.

You gulp in breath like it’s the last you’ll ever take, knowing that in a very short time, you’ll be in her hungry stomach.  You can feel the rest of you piled up inside of it, sitting in the gurgling, sauna-like surface.  And you’ve been filling her up very well. . . It’s going to be a tight fit.

The lioness laughs around you form, and you see her smile.  “See ya,” she says.  And then your head is slurped inside of her mouth.

The tongue immediately attacks your face, smacking all around your head and making you cringe at the relentless touch.  When it stops, you don’t even get a moment to breathe; she just swallows again and suddenly you’re sliding down a tight, gross throat.

The journey down is shorter than you expected.  One second the esophagus is squeezing you; the next you’re sliding into her stomach, your body curled up into a tight ball in this belly.  The gut growls in greeting to you, and you cringe, feeling juices lapping up at your legs.  Your predator burps, and the place reacts, rising the liquids higher--fuck fuck fuck!

“Alright, you’ll let me out soon, right?” you manage to cry out.  “Once you’re out of The Jungle, I can go, right?”

You wait a few tense seconds for a response.  Then, your heart sinks as you hear her laughing.

“Soooorry, I tricked ya,” she says, her voice barely audible over the stomach’s grunts and groans.  “I’m not leaving here anytime soon.  By the time I get outta The Jungle, /you’ll/ be on your way to converting into mush.”  The stomach juices rise, and they reach your chest now.  It’s getting hard to breathe in here. . .  “I gotta say though, you made a /stellar/ meal--shame I can’t have you again.”

“I-I’ll let you eat me again!” you scream desperately, speaking without thinking.  “If you let me go!  I promise I’ll let you eat me again, just don’t digest me!”

There is a long pause.  The juices rise higher.  “Now /that’s/ enticing,” the lioness purrs.  “Alrighty, deal.  Just gotta find a safe space to spit you up. . .”

The belly rumbles and sloshes as she walks, and the liquid rises higher.  Fuck, are you getting out of here or not?  You start to panic that this is just a sick trick--but just as you do, there is a /lurch/, and you’re getting pulled back toward the throat.

Your body travels up her esophagus and pops into her mouth, then shoots back into the night air, which you never thought you’d feel again.  You land on uncomfortable concrete, and your body is soaked, but /fuck/, you’re alive!  For now. . .

You look at your predator, and see her smirking down at you.  “Alright food,” she says, licking her lips.  “You want to stay alive, then you belong to me.

“Got it?  Or do you want to go back down my throat?”

You nod fearfully, and she smiles.  “Good.”

“I think this’ll be the beginning of some /lovely/ meals together. . .”