Special Day (Vore Day Short) [VAULT]

She had taken you. During a meal, you felt indescribably nauseous. You can vaguely remember leaving for the bathroom before the rest fell to black. Above you when you awoke next was a far away face, its two brown eyes pinning you down with an intense gaze. You realized first that this was Kindra, an acquaintance that you had always considered eccentric -- you, and anybody else that had met her. You next realized you were in a wooden cabinet, imprisoned inside a sock drawer, and that has since been your lowly space of existence. For three days.

Kindra was the shy type, at first glance. She would never spark a conversation on her own, awkwardly avoiding social interactions when she could. When she couldn’t, Kindra stuttered and chuckled to herself, quietly trying to slip away. Those that befriended her would discover a livelier personality hidden under her gloomy image, filled with obscure interests and weird quirks. You’ve always been a polite, easy-going person, and thus getting to know Kindra came naturally, but before you realized it, Kindra was clinging to you. What you considered passive levels of kindness was, to her, the nicest interactions she seemingly had. She implied as much, forcing upon you conversation after conversation about occultic rituals and alien symbols. She rarely left your side after those first few talks, and only recently have you learned that she rarely strayed far at all; she stalked you, a fact she proudly admitted when you first stirred under her possession.

Of course, you protested -- you had a life, friends and family -- and of course you tried to escape. But Kindra was strict, consistently keeping you locked in her drawer where no member of society would think to find a missing person. She was persistent, refusing to let you leave, coldly dismissing your concerns and fears. You asked for why and how, but other than her claim to being a witch, she could not explain well her obsession with you. Her mission at least was quite clear, having announced to you, “You’ll be mine. Just… mine. Mine, always. Heh heh…”

That witch comes for you now, the tremors of her footsteps rattling your confines being the signal of her approach. Bitterly, you find yourself excited to meet your captor, if only because it meant being fed and allowed to see light. You hear her humming your name just before the drawer is pulled open, the motion tripping you off your feet and into a bundled pair of pink socks. Kindra hovers overhead, dark bags beneath the eyes that stare hard over your fallen body. You don’t get to stand up on your own before a hand enwraps you into a grasp, pulling you out from your prison cell.

You squirm in her hand until the fingers uncurl, revealing your tiny form sprawled out across her pale palm. Her fingers are cold and bony, causing chills to run up your naked body -- the pretense of personal privacy had long since been discarded after you shrank. Withdrawn from the cabinet in such a way, just to be stared at, truly imposes upon you a toy-like feeling, but at least for now, you’ve been grateful that Kindra has been merciful. For three days, you’ve been stripped of your rights and power as a human, but Kindra has not exploited that any further than keeping you as some sort of pet.

Appropriately, a finger is there to pet you. The tip strokes your side, barely slowed when you push against it with both hands. Your efforts make her giggle before she finally greets you, “H-Hello… You seem to be in… good spirits…”

You scowl back at this assessment, your body already burning with embarrassment. You don’t argue, well aware how imbalanced the scales are in your situation.

“Aw… heh-heh… Wh-What a cute expression…” Her eyes slowly narrow. If she were not so clumsy and innocent in appearance, her focus would be ferociously intimidating. “Today… is special, actually. It’s good that you’re so awake… so active…”

You close your eyes, but her words get inside of you. You huff, “What makes it special?” You think to ask if you’ll be let free, but that haunting smile shoots down any hope.

“Hmhm… Sh-Should I make you guess?” Kindra chuckled. “I’ve been so looking forward to today… Do you know how long it’s been…?” Your only guess is that it could be her birthday, but her act is too uncanny for it to be that simple. With silence as your reply, Kindra continues, “It’s been… one year. A year ago, you t-talked to me… It was a horrible day, j-just… horrible… and you came, a-and spoke to me, and filled me with life…”

You manage to stay collected, but contrary to your leveled presentation, you savagely regret ever speaking to her. What a mess this has become, all chaining back to that one conversation brought up out of pity. You gave a lonely girl company, and your reward was getting shrunk and stolen by her.

“So… I wanted to celebrate. I, uh, was going to shrink you today… and do everything all at once… b-but, I wasn’t sure the curse would work…” Her eyes drift with disconfidence, but they assert themselves back onto you with a spark of brightness. “Err, in any case… Today is the day. Ahh, I-I’m so nervous… but… r-really, I’m so weak…”

“... Weak?” you repeat. Kindra looms over you, especially so with how she hunches forward; if she was weak, you were something far less than that.

Kindra nods sluggishly. “Actually… um, I haven’t eaten… not since you… you were…--”

“... At all?” You blink, recounting those three days and the meals she had given you. It was an idle question really, but your remark prompts Kindra to carry you lower. You hug her thumb for stability as she takes you to her center, the hand slightly curved to usher you forward. Her free hand pulls up on her shirt, revealing the wall-sized midriff in front of you. Its blank paleness is striking, but more so are the corners of her ribs, barely visible through her lack of gut. As true as you can guess it to be, Kindra really has been starving herself.

“See? I couldn’t eat, I always felt so… full,” Kindra explains. Suddenly, you’re pressed into her stomach, held in place by the strength of her fingers at your bare back. Your muffled protests mean nothing, utterly losing significance when the stomach groans louder than you could argue. Due to her thinness, the stomach’s whine is particularly loud to you. The noise is unceasing, always a howl or whine stemming from her empty belly. You instinctively push away, but this struggle only amuses Kindra, her giggling trickling over you.

“I couldn’t eat… I’ve barely slept… Y-You’ve been all that’s on my mind…” Kindra’s head tilts as she looks down at you, your head still firmly swallowed by the pillowy skin. “But… I love that. I love you, after all,” she laughs, “for you to be in my head all day… everyday… It’s heavenly… b-but…”

You fall back into a flat palm, freed from the stomach’s grumbling. In your daze, Kindra’s face befalls you swiftly -- she lifts you close to her face, near enough for her breaths to tickle your skin. Her eyes study you intensely, the hugeness of her pupils clearly tracing your frame and inducing you with a new wave of shivers.

“I’ve been terrible, d-doing this to you… but I want more. I want more of you, b-but… so…” Kindra’s gaze falls elsewhere while her words stumble. She still can’t look at you when she finally says, “I’m going to eat you. You’ll be everything to me then… In my thoughts, in me…” Only then do her eyes return to your frozen state, “I’ll always have you! You’ll exist with me forever…!”

You crawl backwards as far as the platform of fingers go, but they bend to force you back into the middle. The idea babbles on your tongue for seconds before you finally shout, “Kindra!! I’ll die!! I-I--”

“You’ll be digested,” she clarifies. She nods eagerly and her smile stays unbroken. “I-I know you won’t just… live there… but you’ll exist. You’ll be broken into n-nutrients… you’ll energize my body… In a way, you’ll become a part of me. Ahh… I-It’s incredible just to think about…”

You choke under a dizzy spell. Sweat dots your brow as you fail to process the person holding you as anything human. Your heart drops from your chest, but Kindra is antsy and mobile, pacing from side to side as she excitedly examines you.

“I’m so hungry, too… I’ve told myself to k-keep waiting… until today… Gah,” she flinches, pained by her stomach, but her grin is still as wide. “I’ve been scared of this, actually. But after starving myself… well… I know for sure I can do this. I can swallow you, a little person… I’ll have you in my mouth, and I’ll feel you go down my throat… I’ll notice everything~ I’ll sit in bed all night feeling my stomach for you, so you won’t be lonely~”

“Kindra… Th-This is some sort of joke…?”

But she’s salivating. Her belly groans. Wordlessly, Kindra confirms how serious she is.

After an eternal pause, the hand carries you upward. You’re brought back to life in a frenzy, kicking and scrambling for a way off her hand. You immediately juggle the value of simply jumping from this height and taking your odds of survival with the bedroom carpet, but your nerves fail to commit. Behind you, Kindra’s face occupies all in that direction, a drilling stare expressing no sympathy or remorse. You shout aimlessly for her to stop this, but your plea for mercy is argued against with a jittery laugh. In her mind, it’s been set in stone that she will eat you. After three days of being imprisoned in a sock drawer, your fate is to be devoured by a creepy, friendless woman.

Kindra’s lips attack you, pushing your body first with a kiss that develops into a gaping maw. You scream into the humidity it dispels onto you, you latch onto her upper lip to prevent being shoved in. She loves the fight, she loves your refusal. The prospect of breaking free from her clutches is all just a tease on her part. When she no longer wants to play, Kindra decidedly sentences you to her mouth, popping you forward against your frantic will.

A beast of a tongue is there to battle you before you can even begin to understand your place. It lashes you with saliva-lined attacks, its strength and dexterity too much to contest. You endure as much as you can, perpetually shouting for Kindra to stop, but you doubt at this point she can hear you. It’s impossible to think of this as Kindra, this cavern she’s forced you to survive in. You don’t look at the monstrous teeth clamping together or the pink tongue writhing about and think of them as features of a human woman, much less the meek and introverted Kindra. This was a horrible new world, one equally separated from Kindra as much as it was universally about her.

As if your position was not perilous enough, everything begins to vibrate to a distinct rhythm -- she’s walking somewhere, and in a hurry. You continue to fight with her tongue, blind to how the outside world swirls past. You soon discover where she went as the lips suddenly part open, flooding the organic chamber with the light of a bathroom. Your vision adjusts to reveal a gigantic reflection in the distance; Kindra has gone to a mirror and opened her mouth, purely to witness your tiny troubles. You can clearly see her open mouth wanting to laugh, you hear as much bubbling behind you in the fearsome throat. As well can you see yourself in the reflection, a mere blotch of a person helplessly straddling a tongue multiple times your size.

As humiliating as it was to be seen in such a predicament, you wish against the lips closing as they seal you back into darkness. You beg for Kindra to reconsider, you shake the tip of her tongue as if it were her by the shoulders; a giggle stuns you and makes it that much simpler for the tongue to curl backwards and embrace you in its twist. That giggle melts into a moan, a noise you happen to share making as your body grinds against the soaked texture of the tendril. Kindra’s assault on you is intentional, digging around your body to find crevices to lick and limbs to restrain.

You’re lost in the confusion, too afraid to reach out and risk being chewed alive to realize that the tongue has escorted you to the back of the mouth. You only comprehend this when you flash a glare back at the lips, now a distant gate that you fling yourself towards in one last rush for life. You climb up the curve of the tongue, fighting against the forces of thick spit being drained the opposite direction -- carrying you, slowly but surely, in that deadly direction. A minor tilt of Kindra’s head overwhelms your efforts, and you slip further along the tongue, your grip failing to cling to anything that can slow your descent. Yelling turns to gasps as your feet kick over a pit of nothing.

You fall into tightness. The walls of a narrow throat hug your body like it would any bite-sized amount of food, emotionlessly driving you down its passage. You scratch and claw, but your puny strength means nothing to these muscles. A pile of saliva further weighs you down, its stickiness whittling down your passion to survive. It’s here in the throat that the onset of acceptance turns your body to stone, the last bouts of resistance shivering out of your system.

A final plummet catches you off guard. It’s a brief fall into the stomach proper, a sightless realm where a cacophony of organic systems deafens your thoughts. A rancid stench devastates your smell and taste, yet you find solace in the digestive acid as it crawls over your naked skin. It burns and tingles, but it cleanses you of your misery. Reflexive bursts of stamina have you writhe and kick, but you slowly succumb to the blanketing heat. You truly have been swallowed, but you feel strangely fulfilled, perhaps as fulfilled as Kindra. Within her stomach, you can vaguely feel her movements, even the littlest hesitations -- you sense that she rolls into bed, petting her stomach in search of your miserable form, just like she promised. Kindra’s giggles can be distinctly heard over the groaning, a tune you drift off to as you embrace your fate of becoming one with this eerie, awkward witch.