Mack wished his son had listened to him, really he did. “Trust me, you won’t like it” he’d warned the boy, “It’s not at all like you’re imagining” he’d said again and again each time his son had asked. And what should’ve been the biggest deterrent of all: “It’s a one way trip, once you’re in my tank you’re not coming out again.” He’d say in a very serious voice, “You’ll be digested in there like any other food, and believe me, it’s not a pleasant process.”
Still, the foolish boy hadn’t been daunted. He continued to beg his dad at every opportunity, going on and on about how he wanted to end up inside his pop’s big hairy belly, and how he loved the idea that he’d be adding to his father’s waistline. Damn, the kid was acting like it was a ride at fucking Disney land instead of his dad swallowing and digesting him. No matter how many times Mack told his son exactly what would happen if he swallowed him alive, the boy just wouldn’t listen, claiming over and over that he was totally fine with what would happen to him once inside his father’s hungry gut. Finally, on the night of his 18th birthday, and with the assistance of a fair amount of alcohol, Mack relented.
Half an hour later, Mack looked down, shaking his head sadly at his massive gut as it bulged and shook with his son’s attempts at struggling within. He could clearly make out his boy’s cries, telling him he’d changed his mind and begging his father to let him out. Stupid, stupid kid… Mack had warned him so many times that it wouldn’t be anything like he’d imagined in all his strange fantasies. No doubt the boy had expected a pleasant, warm slide into a nice stretchy stomach, where the walls were pillowy and soft and they hugged him lightly while he drifted off to sleep. The reality, which Mack had tried to explain to him, was much harsher. The poor boy really had no idea what he was in for when he’d begged his father to eat him. Mack could tell right away that he’d been shocked by the sweltering heat of his dad’s insides as he started to swallow him, shifting a bit uncomfortably in his tight throat, and the boy definitely hadn’t been prepared to be stuffed into his foul smelling, churning gut, which did stretch, but only enough to accommodate the kid, and even then just barely. The muscles of Mack’s stomach walls were far from soft as they squeezed him tightly in a painfully crushing and almost suffocating embrace while the acrid air stung his eyes and burned his nose and lungs with each breath. All the while the slick liquid that had been spreading over his body as his father’s gut churned over him was beginning to cause his skin to itch and burn.
Mack knew the exact moment his boy was experiencing all of this and came to the conclusion that his father was indeed right, that this crushing, acidic, disgusting chamber wasn’t anything like he’d imagined. It was, as his dad had said, a hellish and a terrifying place to spend your last moments. That’s when the boy had started to squirm and shout for his dad to let him out, at first in a sort of “Hey dad, I guess I don’t like this after all” kind of voice, fully expecting Mack to release him and to receive a stern lecture about listening to his dad’s warnings. It was only when his father had informed him that, no, he wouldn’t be coming back out and that he’d be digested just like he’d warned him, that the boy really started to panic.
Mack watched his gut bounce and shake as his son thrashed and begged for release inside the fleshy prison. No doubt his powerful stomach was already starting to work on him, the muscular clenches of his stomach walls becoming rougher and more powerful, and the itching sensation most likely at the point where it transitioned to a painful burning sensation as his acids did their job. He sighed, rubbing over his bulging belly as his son’s cries became more desperate and his struggles intensified and became frantic, and decided to take pity on the foolish kid. No, he wouldn’t be letting him out though, his son’s fate had been sealed the moment his head had slipped past his father’s lips, Mack’s gut had claimed the boy and he was just a meal now, family or not. Mack would however, give his son a small bit of mercy; Usually he’d enjoy his meal’s struggles for as long as they lasted, but it was his own son in his gut this time. Yes, he’d be digested just like anything else he put in his belly, but Mack didn’t like the idea of his boy suffering unnecessarily, so he pressed his hands the squirming, fleshy dome of his gut and pressed down. He felt all the air he’d swallowed down with his son rush back up his throat and erupt from his mouth in a massive, and very satisfied, belch. “Uuuuuuurrrrrrp!”
Moments later, all was still within his gut. It was far from quiet though as it gurgles and churned loudly over the motionless form of his kid. Mack laid back, one hand idly rubbing over his gurgling belly as he let out another soft belch that tasted slightly of his son turned meal. Mack slept soundly through the night as his stomach did its job, the bulges the boy made becoming less defined, rounding out, and his massive hairy belly slowly shrinking as the hours passed and his son was efficiently digested.
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