The black lizard stares unblinkingly in front of you -- its eyes burning with a fanatical fervor. Its mouth is slightly ajar in the facsimile of a smile. He’s trying to be friendly, but all he succeeds in is unnerving you. It doesn’t help that he’s so big: nearly one-and-a-half times larger than most Salandit you’ve seen.
You clear your throat and say, “I’d love to meet your queen, but I really have to get going…” You sheepishly take a step back. The Salandit aggressively steps forward.
"Yes! You have to get going! Get going to meet the Queen!” He’s closer now, his rubbery ebony snout is in your face, a hair's breadth away. You watch his nostrils flare as he breathes faster, harder. His breath smells like sulfur and is flecked with orange embers.
You open your mouth to protest, “I really don’t have time--” before can you finish, the Salandit presses his snout against your face. A sulfurous scent overpowers you as you begin to feel dizzy. For a moment, you see double. You see two lizards, both of their purple eyes squinting skeptically, “you say you have no time for the Queen?” He says, dark wisps of smoke puff from his nostrils, making your eyes water.
“No, no, no-no-no no.…” the Salandit pulls his face back, his black-slitted irises dilated, steadily locked onto you as the lizard’s body shakes with a wild energy. “You make time for Queen, or I make you make time for Queen!”
You take another step back. Your lower lip trembles in fear. The lizard is stone-still. You risk another step. Your eyes are trained on the Salandit, not risking to look away for a second. He lowers his face to the ground, rump in the air: a pouncing stance. You turn to sprint but he is too quick. With a leap he is upon you -- knocking you to the forest floor and pinning you down. Your fall is partially cushioned by wild grasses, but you still feel round pebbles dig into your spine as he rests his entire weight upon you. Your stubby arms are splayed beside you, each of his paws holding you down by the shoulders. His maniacal face is far too close. So close, he practically breathes his stinking, sulphurous breath directly into your nostrils. Clearly excited, thick black smoke billows from his nostrils. Glowing embers dance in front of your eyes.
“No run, now. I will bring you to the Queen.” His violet eyes burn with madness as his jaw begins to unhinge. Terrified, you futility kick your legs, mumbling half-formed burbling pleadings. Your teary black eyes stare into his cherry red gullet. Wisps of smoke dance and twist from the depths of his maw. Strings of murky saliva hang from the fleshed cavern like stalactites. Humid air encompeses you as the Salandit exhales, before he begins to devour you.
His tongue lifts and slides across his inner cheek before moving onto your own. Its slickness rubs against your right cheek, wetting your fur. Macably, you remember your mother bear doing the same, saying you were “sweet enough to eat.” Unlike hers, his tongue is not gentle and presses hard into your fur. With a flick, his tongue returns to its lair -- flinging spittle into your eye. With a single movement, the Salandit moves a hand to the back of your head and pushes you into his gullet. His jaws close and it is dark. You cough as you breathe in a stinking cloud of smoke. Your ears are pressed against your skull; for there is no room for them in the confines of the lizards jaws. You watch in horror as the lizards tongue awakens once more. The slick organ tastes you, slipping and sliding across your face as it explores every nook and cranny until you are left sopping. The Salandit breathes in, sucking you-flavored saliva and sending it tumbling down his gullet with a mighty swallow. A resounding hum echoes around you. He likes you.
A smooth hand cradles your back, lifting it from the ground. A hand still firmly placed behind your head, the Salandit cranes his head back so that his snout points toward the sky. His jaws repeatedly snap open and close, tossing you upwards and dragging you further into his gullet. You protest, opening your mouth to cry but are silenced by a mouthful of saliva. Then your nose touches the muscles in the back of his throat which undulate in response. His tongue tickles your neck as your head begins its descent into his esophagus. Powerful muscles, uncaring and unyielding, crush against you. Now you feel the Salandit’s hand push against your rump, aiding your descent.
Outside, a sizeable bulge is seen stretched across the Salandit’s upper throat. That, is your head. Inside, you see his throat muscles lurch and compress as you’re squeezed into the tight, fleshy tunnel — officially swallowed. Wet muscle mashes against you as you breathe in fetid air; tainted with the scents of the contents of the Salandit’s belly. Mucus soils your fur as you slip deeper. Your surroundings lurch forward repeatedly as the Salandit’s head bobs like a bird’s as he tries to cram the remainder of you down his throat. You feel his tongue slip between your legs, tasting your inner thigh right before you are pressed into the lower esophageal sphincter: the entrance to his stomach.
You breach the tight ring of muscle and are punched with the foul environment of the Salandit’s stomach. Acrid air tingles your nose as the lizards yellowed stomach juices slosh and tumble as its environment heaves. Remainders of past meals float about in the soup -- fortunately none of which looked to have once been alive.
More of you enters the muscular sack. Your paws touch the revolting liquid and to your relief you find that it does not burn. Outside, the Salandit raises a paw to its neck, feeling the indent your lower body makes as it descends down his throat. Soon, you are entirely inside the lizard’s belly, which he celebrates with an illustrious sigh. His belly is nearly thrice its original size. Subtle imprints of a struggling Teddiursa can be seen from the outside.
“You taste very good! Queen will like you, methinks!” The Salandit lets out a resounding burp. His big belly shakes, battering you with the contents of his stomach.
“Maybe I like you better?”
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