The Passing Within

By The Borg

This is my first story ever, written in a couple of hours one night, please be kind to it. I realize it is very different from the sorts of swallowing stories I've seen collected, in that this one has an adult being swallowed alive by a boy. It also has no erotic actions or overtones as a part of the process, since they're not in my fantasies surrounding this.

Please, however, don't let your specific flavour of swallow story bias you to skip reading this one. I know I often find ones not within my peculiar type to be ... very stimulating myself.

Enjoy the story...

"Damn it!," Damian screamed, not that it would do him any good. He was already 12 inches tall, and shrinking slowly but steadily. Fortunately, he had the good sense to step away from his clothes during the worst of it... Looking at the now massive heaps of cloth that only moments ago he had worn about his body, he was convinced they would have smothered him in short order, and nothing would strike him worse than being smothered in his own dirty underwear. But where to find clothes small enough to fit were the least of his problems. He was now too small to do much more than wait and see if Jason's Frankenstein experiment of a potion would reverse itself. And of course find a good place to keep out of the way.

Well, soon enough Tim would be home from school and at least he'd be able to get him off this floor, and this nasty shag carpet that seems to his shrinking perception to be a hideous lawn of wormy fibres growing ever more tangled and overgrown. Smiling to himself, Damian was thinking how funny Tim would find all of this; and assuming he could get the lad to take him seriously long enough, how long it would be before he could get that asshole father of his back home and straighten out this mess.

But first, he had to find a spot to get clear of the now-giants that are his friends. At least he started to stabilize in size, estimating himself to be around 5 or 6 inches. Time was running out, in moments Tim would be back and he was a cyclone of destruction and always ravenously hungry... not seeing much of anything until he replenished his growing body with large quantities of food. It was hard to imagine he was only ten.

Something startled him, screeeek, ka-THUNK!! Strange how normal sounds seemed so booming to his ears now. And sure enough, there was Tim... Looming huge like a massive 120 foot tall giant, it's funny how the boy he had gotten to know and love as his own son seemed so terrifying to him. But as he was about to call out (in a voice which must sound like a little pipsqueak), Tim trotted over to his beloved TV and Nintendo and plopped down and started to play Blast Corps. Naturally, it's a game of destruction and loud noises...

There'd be no way of attracting his attention now, unless he went over, abandoning his protective cover under the couch. (Under which all SORTS of disgusting things were stashed, including some half-eaten chocolate frosting that was beginning to grow legs and crawl away - yeesh - he made a mental note to better keep those dust bunnies under control)

This was terrible... it meant Damian now had to make a very distant journey, crossing a veritable jungle of carpet of long expanse, and risk getting trampled or sat on by the now-great Tim. But he had to do something, his shrinking had slowed... he was now about 4-5 inches tall, but he couldn't be sure it'd ever stop. If he didn't get out of this carpet soon, he'd never escape this Liliputian Hell! It's a wonder he didn't go insane.

A break! With a lurch he got up and headed over to the kitchen... It was a hot day, so he peeled off his shirt and threw it over to one of the chairs. Opening the refrigerator, he settled in on the orange juice. He always loved orange juice. Of course, there not being anyone around he didn't bother to get a glass! Ha! Damian knew Tim was a devil when noone was around! When he got clear of this mess, he made a note to himself to give his little friend some ribbing about it.

Damian couldn't help but notice the bulges of orange juice pulsing down his throat, steadily, and rhythmically every 2 or 3 seconds. Interesting too, how his lower jaw seemed to move up and down, sucking in a mouthful of liquid before each swallow. With each one, there was a cute little squeak. After a seeming reservoir poured into young Tim's body and he seemed finally satisfied, he let rip a loud ripping belch and giggled to himself. What a pig! He always loved doing rude little things like that, sometimes deliberately air-burping up foetid odours from his stomach to gross you out. Orange juice made some pretty stinky air-burps, indeed.

Looking at the boy's smooth belly, Damian caught himself wondering what it might be like inside of his stomach (in a special protective suit of course!!!) He'd known Tim since he was a baby, and in many ways, Damian was like his mom and friend and confidant all rolled into one. Jason was a workaholic scientist, and often found Tim to be inconvenient. But Jason was a loving father, and perhaps knew his own shortcomings and limitations where raising Tim was concerned. When he invited Damian to live with him, it was to provide a companion and caretaker for his son. In Damian, he sensed a desire within him to be a father himself. But that's another story.

Sated with orange juice, Tim eyed the shelves for some snack junk foods... but nothing seemed to suit him. So he gave up his forage, and returned to the living room. By this point, Damian had managed to scramble up the skirt of the couch and get onto one of the cushions... and in the loudest voice he could muster, he shouted like a madman at Tim as he lumbered by.

"Whoa!," Tim exclaimed, " that?? Damian??! What the hell... happ.." and just as Damian knew he would, he started to laugh his ass off. "Ha! ... Dam... Haha ... you're so... SMALL!" And with a start, he scooped up the little man into his massive palm and sat on the couch.

Not a little unsettled by the movements about him, all Damian could do was sit on Tim's right hand... which was still cold and moist from handling the orange juice. Tim raised him up to eye level, "So ... (cackle) how did this happen?" It was obvious Tim was enjoying this immensely.

"Um... I think it was something of your dad's. He doesn't normally bring home any of his work, but I didn't know he would ever be STUPID enough to put some of his crap into a fruit juice jar." Damian was only now starting to notice how huge Tim's face was looming in front of his. His hot breath (redolent of orange) washed over him, and Damian thought to himself what a handsome boy Tim was. With round almost bee-sting lips, a little (well, little for a boy his age, but HUUUUGE for a shrunken Damian) pug nose, huge brown eyes that blazed with mischief and energy, and nice soft cheeks. He was a darling creature, and everyone who met him was taken with his charm and spunky personality. Damian used to dream of having a family someday, but even though Tim didn't possess an ounce of his genes, Tim was his son, in spirit and mind. And for all of Tim's playful ribbing and mild abuse he heaped upon Damian, it was to Damian he'd turn to at night if he had a bad dream, or just didn't want to sleep alone.

When Tim opened his cavernous mouth to speak, he could see those massive white teeth of his.... Tim had these adorable (now TERRIfying) two front teeth which always revealed themselves when he smiled. God, what an adorable child.... so unlike the geek that was his father. Finally able to calm himself, Tim confidently assured him, "Well, I'm sure Dad can fix you... but he won't be home 'til six. I hope you can... (cackle) not get SQUISHED before then!!"

"I...OOOF!", Tim squeezed Damian abruptly catching him off guard, fortunately, catching himself before breaking any ribs. "Watch that, Tim! You could smash me without even realising it."

"Hmmmm.... yessss, I could, couldn't I? I could even do THIS!" and with an abrupt movement, Damian found himself halfway into Tim's mouth, his chest pinned daintily between those terrible front teeth. Those lips of his were a big squishy but firm cushion which held him securely, like one of those roller coaster rides shoulder bars. All he do was move his arms and legs. But there wasn't much he could really do.

Tim's massive tongue stretched before him, and what light made it through the gaps in his teeth, he could see the huge teeth all around (with all of the spots where he lost one recently), and in the inky blackness beyond, he could see his glistening throat, with its trembling uvula fluttering in the wind of his breathing.

"Tim... please stop... you're scaring me, and besides, it STINKS in here!" More giggles from Tim, which caused Damian to be sucked still further into his mouth. Pools of saliva were welling up from where the tongue was positioned, almost like a huge pink "welcome mat". Tim opened his mouth a bit, and tried to talk with Damian in his mouth... the effort nearly rewarded him with biting Damian in half! OOPS!

"surry...mrrhff lik thrf," Tim gamely tried to say... but he renewed his jaws' gentle clamping of Damian about his abdomen. Damian couldn't help but notice the tongue, the way it twitched and vibrated, and seemed to have a life of its own... It was slathering him with saliva, which had an interesting mineral-like (and somewhat residual orangey) smell to it. The tongue was like soft sandpaper, very agile and flexible, covered with these rough bumps, which now seemed to work its way all over him.

Tim sucked a little more... now Damian could see very distinctly that hole into which he knew he'd never return if he wasn't careful, er, if Tim wasn't careful. A one way trip to his doom, inside the belly of a growing boy. But an odd sensation was coming over Damian... the warmth of his mouth, and smooth slickness of his saliva was oddly stimulating.

Damian was just about fully on Tim's tongue now... which was rolling him about and massaging him all over. He was fully covered in Tim's saliva. He was enjoying having his friend in his mouth, and thought it was so funny how just last week Damian had told him of how he and a fraternity buddy would swallow goldfish during their college years. Strangely, Tim kind of liked the taste, which surprised him. Kind of salty, but the smoothness felt good in his mouth. And that wiggling only tickled him more, which he liked. He didn't even stop to think of how much danger his friend was in, being mere inches from his gullet.

Damian tried sitting up, but it was slippery going... but he managed to prop himself up for a bit. Tim, sensing the tickling in his mouth, flapped his tongue, and tucked his friend under it, gently pinning him there against his gums. Eeek! Damian could see bits of what must have been Tim's lunch. Some bit of hamburger and god-knows-what else boys devour... all gray and amorphous... He'd be joining that lunch if he didn't keep his wits about him.

By this time, Tim's mouth was awash in saliva... he was doing a good job of keeping his swallow reflex under control... Damian could see the massive pink organ rising up against his palate and contracting backwards in a smooth rapid movement towards that dark throat. [good thing he was under it, and not on top of it!]

Flipping it under Damian, he once again got him onto his tongue. His feet were now facing the back of Tim's throat, and his head could see the smooth ridged roof of his mouth. Amazing, really. If he weren't in such danger, he'd find this all very interesting and educational.

Tim was playing with him, now pretending to swallow... letting his tongue get to the point where it pushes him and slides backwards, just stopping shy of getting Damian's legs into that greedy moist esophagus.

Damian was furious... he started to thrash and tried to slip through a gap in his teeth where he lost a tooth. The tyrannical tongue ended that dream with a slobbering flap, pinning him against the hard palate of his mouth.

Tim was giggling again, which caused his tongue to rhythmically relax and tighten its press. Damian could see the uvula bouncing and jiggling... and getting larger, and he was aware of the closed-in pink moistness of the back of the mouth.

OH NO! He was sliding backwards down the very slippery tongue... his feet were getting close now... another 12 "inches" or so, and he'd be close to the back of tongue where he might get reflexively swallowed up ... or induce a powerpuke that would be equally nasty.

Damian tried to slow his descent, but all he did was slide inexorably into the throat. Almost as if acting by instinct, the tongue worked him into position...

"OH MY GOD! He's going to eat me!!!!" Damian screamed... but it was no use. He was not even 3" tall, and trapped inside this boy's mouth. Noone was going to come and rescue him. Nobody would ever hear him. Tim's big moist tongue seemed to go through a coordinated series of movements, pressing him up against his palate, and sliding him backwards... He felt the hard ridged palate give way to soft... It all happened very quickly, but to Damian, it seemed like time slowed down a hundred-fold.

The throat barely took note of his feet, and it had begun to stretch slightly as his hips reached the threshold of descent. He could feel the throat muscles taking in his length, preparing to relax the final part of the reflex that would propel him into the boy's stomach. The tongue was nearly done with its work, twisting around, Damian could see Tim's jaws closing... making it darker inside.

Damian knew Tim couldn't stop now if he wanted to... he was an unwitting partner in a deadly dance whose climax was approaching. There was nothing to grab onto, thrashing and wiggling only hastened his slide down, and the uvula was so slick from spit he couldn't hold onto it for even a second. The eager throat seemed to grip his body firmly, and the only way was down from this point. Momentum and anatomy were against him.

With a final undulation, the throat that had patiently waited for its cargo pulsed smoothly and powerfully... Damian watched with horror as the boy's gullet swelled and sucked him in whole, dizzying in its speed and resolutely insistent. The last thing he saw was the uvula and the flap which blocked off the windpipe. He reflexively spasmed, trying one last time to gain hold, despite its futility. The gullet held him too tightly, and the muscles were too strong. Besides, everything was slick with saliva.

Damian found himself propelled like a rocket into Tim's esophagus... which pinned him on all sides and forced him down a hot, wet, and elastic tube for what seemed an eternity. He found himself oddly aroused and comforted by the feel of it. On his way down, he could hear (and FEEL) the rapid thudding of Tim's heart... and completely covered in spit, heard a sick squishy sound as peristalsis conveyed him further down, picking up speed as he slid down.

After a few seconds, he was conscious of being forced through a tight ring of firm muscle, briefly winding him... and with a PLOP!, was dumped into his young friend's stomach.... which still had some orange juice in it.. (YEEUCK!) and the remains of his lunch. (even yuckier)... It was mostly liquid... like a soup that had been overcooked and no longer had recognisable forms. Even now, he could hear gurgling and squishing sounds, and something that sounded like liquid being expelled through the pylorus. There wasn't much left of lunch at all, the stomach was mostly empty. And quite prepared for even a little snacklet like he.

BRAPBRAP! Squish! That little bastard had swallowed some air... which as a trick always seemed amazing to Damian, since he never managed to learn how to do it. He could hear Tim trying to talk, but within his body, the sound just got muffled and distorted to unintelligibility. He was going to die.

He could feel the acids starting to burn him, and even though he could prop himself up against the folds and ridges of the stomach, it was slick with mucous and strangely soft. It was also exuding a great deal of liquid... acids and enzymes capable of reducing him to a liquid squeezed into the waiting intestines to be absorbed by Tim's body. He could hear gurgling below, probably the last liquid remnants of lunch only recently digested and voided from the very spot where he now sat, being absorbed by this enormous network of soft tubing. Growing boys do need lots of protein. Damian wished he could offer more than the pitifully tiny amount to his friend's body, if he was to pay such a terrible price for giving it to him. His sacrifice might then, be meaningful, even if in some transient way.

He knew he had to try to escape. It wouldn't be long before he'd be finished. So propping himself up again, he tried to reach the hatch through which he had entered. Almost as if Tim sensed his motives, there was that disorientation of the world moving again. Tim had laid down on his back. Good boy! Now Damian could at least try to crawl out. But... the valve that guarded passage was strong, and slippery. He could force his hand into it, but nothing else. It seemed to automatically tense and firm its grip.

With a sob, Damian let himself fall into the digesting fluids. It wouldn't be long now; mercifully, the boy's stomach was producing gobs of acid. And it was churning him about in gentle waves, soon enough, he stopped even trying to resist their motion. He could feel himself falling into a dull hazy nothingness. His final thoughts were that if he had to die this way, nourishing his beloved Tim's body as he had nourished him mentally and emotionally over the years, it was an honour. In a couple of hours, Damian's constituent amino acids and minerals were squeezed into the boy's duodenum.

And after just 4 hours, everything Damian was... was now a part of Tim.

When Jason returned home, he found Tim in tears. Between sobs, Tim tried to explain what happened... And always a cool thinker in a crisis, Jason rushed him to the cabinet, and taking a bottle of ipecac, he tried to get him to vomit, but nothing came up. The boy's stomach was empty. It had already voided his friend-snack into his intestines, where he was fully absorbed. They even tried to go over the remains the following day, but there was absolutely nothing left of their friend.

Later that night, in bed, Tim was vaguely aware of something different about the world. He didn't feel lonely or sad. In fact, he didn't feel very different than before when he had Damian with him. Damian his co-conspirator in mischief, Damian who was always first with the games his friends would read about in magazines months later, Damian his best friend. Damian to carry him to bed, and talk him to sleep at nights. Damian to make all of his worries and troubles seem so trivial and solvable. Tim couldn't recall an important moment in his life when Damian wasn't there to share it. And now he was gone.

He almost felt guilty, but there was something at the back of his mind which told him that Damian was still with him, a part of him. And he wasn't afraid. Damian was with him... inside of him... in a place noone could ever reach, or take away. As he fell asleep, Tim smiled. He knew the best parts of Damian would be forever inside of him.

-The End-

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