Random: Veronica stifled a hiccup as she jiggled the key to her apartment, a faint flush to her cheeks as she smiled and pushed inside with an idle hand rubbing over her slightly distended belly. "Home sweet home~" she purred mostly to herself but also in an intentional announcement to her passanger, giving her tummy a squeeze for emphasis of the double entandre while she kicked the door closed behind her and slinked towards the living room with trademark catlike fancy. She stopped halfway across and peeked into her kitchen and at the unused Prey Warmer she had been too impatient to use like she'd promised shrugging to herself before finishing the stride and flopping back on her couch in a way that sent her belly all a-jostle when she landed and stretched out. When she set out for her hunt she'd intended on bringing the prey she managed to snag back home for some pre meal prep and plenty of fun teasing, but this one was something special, the instant she caught the poor little squirrels scent she started to drool and by the time she finally saw him she couldn't help herself but to scarf him down right there on the spot! The feline usually liked to think she had more self control, but this prey had just lit her blood on fire in a way she couldn't explain and for a minute there she wasn't Veronica Barnes who lived in apartment 625 on Z street, she was just a feline taken hold of by instincts base and primal that the sane evolved mind liked to deny was no longer there. By the time she was done she'd almost been too embarissed to even acknowledge her morsel, most of the fun things she liked to say to her snacks were only appropriate for the pre-meal play and now she'd thrown herself for a loop. Now that he'd had time to settle and she was comfortable and at home she bleared down at her tummy and gave it a tentative rub to try and get her preys attention. "Cozy in there, little guy?" she asked with a giggle, her voice echoing from all around the squirrel like a muffled surroundsound.

Izzy: If Prey School were a thing, and prey critters went to an established institution to learn how to evade predators and find nibbles, the propaganda-esque poster at the back of the classroom detailing exactly what kinds of horrible creatures lurk out in the shadows just waiting for their chance to gobble you down would without doubt feature a cat. For some reason, they embodied predation. Just the silhouette of their heads, characteristically fluffy cheeks and triangular ears, spelled out “PREDATOR: RUN” like nothing else. Of course, as dogs liked to point out, they were not exactly at the tippy top of the food chain but still…everything about them was “hunter”. So, it wasn’t really the best day of the little squirrelly’s life when he happened to be greeted by exactly that sight upon exiting his little “safe spot”. Indeed, the fear at being face to face with such a creature was enough to override the prey instincts to run as quickly as possible, causing him to simply stare with his little mouth wide open showing off his squirrelly buck teeth. That was probably what did him in, although the idea of him escaping from such a creature was most unlikely to begin with. It had all gone according to plan (/her/ plan, that is) and with just a short chase and a small bit of effort and shoving and gulping on her part, he went from little squirrelly pinned down to the ground by a kitty with playfully swishing tail, to a slight swelling of her belly as he wiggled and squirmed inside of her. It was all over; he was cat food. And not only that, but he /knew/ she had enjoyed him…he /knew/ he had been an easy catch. The first few moments of his new post-being-eaten belly-centered life consisted of being jostled about by her walking movements (she must be making her way back home after a successful hunt, he figured) almost as much as her belly squished him about by itself! Eventually, the jostling ceased (most of it, at least) and he heard as well as felt her voice very clearly, no longer interrupted by the distraction of feeling like you were in an organic washing machine but still of course muffled by her layers of flesh and fur and accompanied by the organic noises the interior of her body had to offer. He squeaked unintentionally, a common rodent reaction to stress or fear, and gave a few wiggles of discontent at her question. “…*squeak*…p-please let me out…”

Random: She beamed at the feeling of her prey moving around inside her in reaction to her voice, purring instantly with the distinctly feline response to pleasure causing a vibration all around his new home to impose onto him just how much his predator was enjoying him as a meal. She even giggled at the sound of his squeaky plea, rubbing her tummy with renewed furvor causing the interior surroundings of her belly to squish down and shove him into an even more cramped space from the protrusion until the elastic walls shlucked back into place once the pressure passed. No matter how much give the stomach had when pushed on, from either side, it always squeltched back into a predetermined shape sometimes with a violent snap when weak trembling prey limbs tried to push against it, and said shape was always just big enough to easily fit a prey in comfortably without causing any strain or discomfort to the predator while being just small enough that the meal would never quite get used to the we crampedness of it forcing him to curl up in a helpless ball of foodishness. It was like predator bellies were specifically designed to contain prey, further emphasizing how little hope the squirrel had in life: from the day he was born he'd been designated by nature itself to be just the perfect size to fit in a predbelly such as the one he was currently within. "Mmmm, why would I ever do that?" she finally answered after a good half minute languishing in the feelings having her food move and beg for freedom from inside her caused "You feel so good in there~ If I let you out I'd lose that good feeling of being Full. Can't imagine a reason on earth why I'd wanna do that."

Izzy: Even before she responded vocally or physically, he could /feel/ her enjoy his actions. The aura of pleasure and satisfaction she gave off in that moment was so intense that anyone around her probably could have picked up on it without even seeing her facial expression. Squirrelly of course had the most perfect front row seat being literally inside her body, in the best position ever to experience her. Of course she did eventually respond physically, his squishy living prison smooshing him down even tighter as the pressure pushing down on him increased two fold from one side as she rubbed her belly (and him in the process). Just the right size to fit him (like a shirt that fits a little /too/ well and is in fact constricting due to that fact) to begin with, he panicked when things got even tighter as she caressed her midsection. He let out another squeak and tried his best to wiggle some more, the tightening surroundings making his movements much more difficult, slow, and labored. At first, he reacted merely to the physical but once the stomach surrounding him had returned to its usual state (still not much of an improvement), he finally got the opportunity to experience the horror of /why/ such a thing had just happened. She had rubbed her belly because not only did she enjoy having him exactly where he currently was, but his wiggling and moving about actually just made her feel even better! He had passed the threshold of reaction; while outside of her body, he could have (theoretically) done at least a handful of things that would have caused her displeasure and even pain. Squirrels have claws…though small and adorable. If he had managed to scratch or bite with those strong, set-in-skull-bone incisors, it could have caused her a great deal of discomfort. (She was far too strong and good a predator to allow that to happen even if he had tried, of course.) But now, now that he was completely inside and was utterly /hers/…every single action of his just caused her pleasure. Despite his desire not to cause her any more pleasure than he was already forced to make her experience, he couldn’t help but react much the same to her continued words. Typical rodent actions: more squeaks, more squirms… “…I-I don’t wanna be…cat food…”
He struggled to get the last part out, if only because it was obvious what an empty thing it was so be saying…from inside a cat’s belly.

Random: The squirrels words were so desperate and pathetic Veronica almost frowned if it wasn't for the smile tugging at the edges of her lips, letting out a sympathetic 'aww' while at the same time rubbing her belly thricefold at the waves of predatory delight his words and actions brought to her. She wasn't a heartless monster like some of her friends, and she envied preds who could switch off their empathy when it came to hunting, but she always lived with that cognative dissonence: of appreciating prey as living beings with their own thoughts and feelings and at the same time the overwhelming urge to hunt and eat and the evolutionarily honed sensations of pleasure that engaging in such festivities brought about. While the duality might have caused some a measure of grief, she reveled in it, a bit of sadomasochism at her own feelings, the guilty pleasure of snuffing out preys hopes and dreams as individuals and reducing them to food and at the same time mourning the loss of them ever having the chance to be happy or free again as they spent the rest of their lives in her belly. Of course, those feelings were hers alone, not for this squirrel to know; she was a feline, and that brought with it a certain sense of pride and reputation she felt obligated to uphold. "Seems a strange thing to not wanna be when it's already what you are, little guy~ I mean you say that like it's not already the case. You're in my belly, you ARE cat food..." she hrmmed theatrically and drummed her fingers along the rim of her gut, tail flicking curiously "Guess that's my fault though, I didn't really give you a chance to plead your case huh? Maybe if you'd had a chance to say that BEFORE I swallowed you I might have let you go, but thems the breaks right?" She grinned devilishly while her heart sunk at her own cruel lie, the rush she got from presenting that false hope and hating herself for doing so beyond description.

Izzy: Sound was a weird thing at this point; the combination of being right next to her lungs though directly under her diaphragm, at the bottom end of the system that produced vocal sounds in the first place, but sealed up behind a tightly closed entrance that blocked out any hope of escape…the fact that every sound she made vibrated his entire world while it happened, sympathetic vibrations throughout her whole body funneling themselves into her middle…it made for a very strange experience and something that could only happen in the terrible position that this squirrelly was in. Being inside of another living creature was a strange combination of things that one could never imagine while still on the outside. And of course, everything went all types of crazy when she rubbed or squeezed her belly. It was almost like being underwater in a weird way. And that’s not even mentioning her purring! If little prey types thought it was scary to hear in open air, they had no idea what could await them if/when they ever found themselves inside one of these terrifying creatures. Then, you knew the purrs were because of YOU. If he were of clearer mind he might have seen her response coming. Even now he knew that it was hopeless though he tried as hard as he could not to accept it. Even in prey-invented fairy tales and bedtime stories, never had he heard of a predator letting their prey back out once the meal was over. That just didn’t happen. Still, though, his brain told him he had to keep trying…if not just because he literally had nothing else to try. Even though he probably could have guessed exactly what she was going to say, it wasn’t very pleasant to hear and especially when…? The squirrelly could feel what could only be described as his insides imploding at the thought that… She had to have been lying…he knew that…right? It didn’t even really matter anymore; he was in a cat’s belly, for crying out loud. /Nothing/ mattered except the thought of not being where he was. His wiggled to and fro, pushing out at his clingy prison and stretching it out slightly before it returned to its normal shape, squeaking in a characteristically squirrelly fashion as he squirmed desperately almost as if trying to free up some elbow room, in his mind searching for some kind of exit but in reality accomplishing absolutely nothing of value to him.

Random: The feline actually let out a moan at all the sensations of her prey struggling so desperately in her belly, feeling the indents of his hands pushing at her inner walls before they squeltched back and harmlessly smacked into his body in a defient gesture that it was hopeless no matter how much he attempted. For a spell the feline idly wondered what it must have been like for the poor thing, that pesky empathy of hers making it possible for her to still see the squirrel as another person even after eating him, and concluded that she related to his futile squirming. If she'd been eaten, which was an impossibility that bordered on hilarious to even passingly consider, she'd fight against the machianations of whomever had eaten her's belly to her final breath. But then she also had to admit that she and the squirrel were worlds apart: she was a cat with stereotypes around her species that she was all too proud to live up, and he was a squirrel who really had no other options in his life but squeaking by just one more fleeting day going uneaten. She had something to fight FOR, he just did so for lack of any other options. Still, the stubborn gesture merited enough respect at least in her mind to drop the charade for a moment. No one was around for her to need to keep up apperances for, and no one would believe the squirrel if he tried to share with some other predator through her belly that she'd shown some unsuitable measure of compassion to the poor thing. Slowly she started to give a slow inhale, swallowing air down into her stomach and causing it to strain and stretch more suitably, giving the squirrel more elbow and obscuring the outline of his figure from the outside. "Phuuu... feels dizzy doing that." she stated once she finished, poking at the air pocket of her tummy curiously. "Hope you appreciate it. Stretch out while you can cuz I aint keeping this up for long. You okay in there, squirrelly?" her voice was different, and not just cuz her cheeks were a bit puffy and blushed. The way she was talking to him, like he was another person instead of just food to taunt and torment.

Izzy: It was just as well that everything was complete pitch blackness now, because there wouldn’t have been much to see anyway; it’s not like the inside of her belly would change like a green screen or something. But still, even though his squirrelly eyes couldn’t see very well at all in low light, he had already gotten to know every square inch of cat-insides that he was now a resident of. He had squished and slid over every centimeter of it at this point, both against his will and on purpose as he struggled and squirmed on his own volition. Though it was bag-like, there was a top, bottom, and respective sides. At most points, he couldn’t tell you specifically which side was which (at least until the squishing and rubbing started). And after squirming sprees like this one, when everything stopped and settled enough for him to be as stationary as he could be in his ever moving, living prison he would have trouble at first determining which way was up and which was down. This time was no exception, however something different was definitely happening. For a brief moment of optimism, he thought that his squirming had actually caused her enough discomfort that she had indeed decided to let him out! That was the only way he could explain what was happening as the belly seemed to inflate a little bit as one would begin blowing up a balloon. It didn’t get /that/ much bigger, but allowed for slightly more wiggle room (no pun intended) and was just slightly less invasive and clingy. The shock in response to this being similar to the shock of first spotting the predator he was currently inside of back before he officially became cat food, he stopped absolutely still for a few moments a tiny *squeak* coming from the rodent as his only movements were caused by the belly itself and not intentional. The squeaky glanced around in short movements of the head (instinctually of course, as it’s not like he could see a thing anyway), rubbing one of the tummy walls unintentionally with the back of his head a little. Her question threw him even more for a loop, and all he could do was let out a string of squirrelly rodent-y noises as he still wiggled a little bit, confusion often prompting rodents to try and look around as if something could be watching them.

“…*squeakchittercheepchipeepsqueakchatter*…”

Random: Veronica rolled her eyes at the typical rodenty response, a bit miffed but not surprised even she couldn't help but think it was slightly rude. If she was in his position she'd express some gratitude, or she liked to think she did, it probably depended on whether or not she was still a cat or prey in that little hypothetical scenario. If she was still a cat she'd probably be quite malicious and obscene, but maybe if she was a rodent like him she'd express some gratitude for the extra effort to provide some comfort cost of the predators own. She banished the train of thought and regarded her belly occupent again, flicking the belly and listening to it thump hollowly and bounce a bit. "In english, please? Come on little guy, try and meet me halfway here." she offered, sitting up since laying out on her back while holding all that extra air inside her was starting to feel uncomfortable while splayed out the way she'd been. A tiny hiccup escaped under the movement and that much little bit of air rushed from her tummy, making her snort and rub it tenderly "do you have a name, squirrelly?" She asked, shrugging to herself with a sheepish smile "normally I ask BEFORE the first gulp, but... heh."

Izzy: If she could have seen through her own tummy flesh, she would have gotten a very good view of a squirrelly making quite the “=o” face, curled up inside her belly. Unintentional chitters still making their way out every couple of seconds, the squirrelly couldn’t stop himself from continuing to glance around the dark belly as if looking for the answers to his questions. The thud of her little flick reverberated around him much louder than it sounded on the outside, causing the squirrelly to close his eyes and lower his ears in response for a few seconds as if she had flicked his face. Her words just added to the mystery. But…something about them seemed to calm him slightly. At least, enough not to continue freaking out. Something about her tone… Although her voice was intrinsically frightening for many reasons. To start with, it was obviously the voice of a predator. It had a confidence and timbre to it that never sounded in a prey’s voice (when they actually spoke and didn’t just squeak, that is). Of course, more-so than that, it was HIS predator’s voice. It would be forever etched into his mind as intrinsically terrifying and the sound of it alone enough to make the squirrelly’s ears flatten against his head in submission and fear. The fact that it was muffled due to being inside of her at this very moment did little to dull the feeling…in fact, it only made it much worse. But something about her tone was strangely…”calming” wasn’t quite the right word but…perhaps “less threatening” would do. She sounded less like she was just taunting him to encourage more pleasurable squirms and more like she was just…talking to him. Honestly, he had not experienced that kind of thing very often and never from a predator…again, let alone the predator he was currently inside of. After a few moments of silence (save for the occasional chitter), a tiny and muffled response came from her midsection.
“…N-Nutmeg…”

Random: An earnest smile crossed her face and she gave her dome of a belly a gentle rub, not one of self absorbed pleasure but in attempt to get across the same gesture as a hug to the poor little prey, humming in recognition of the answer. "Aww, that's just the cutest! A squirrel named Nutmeg, hehe. If I saw that name on a menu I'd have no choice but to order it!" she mused aloud while sinking back a bit in her chair, the activity of prey within her belly causing her an inherent amount of pleasure even if she was trying to be nice for the time being, until inevitably she'd grow bored of the sincereity and go back to indulging in her own predatory dominance. She perked after a second at her own words and nervously rubbed at her tummy in another attempt at a more affectionate act, "Oh, I guess you wouldn't take that as a compliment, huh? I'm sorry. For that and, you know, eating you. And being kind of a bitch about it." she bit her lip and looked off into space, knowing what she said was probably throwing the little rodent for a loop, and indeed if anyone she knew heard what she was saying right now she'd jump off a fucking roof in shame. "That probably doesn't make sense to you.... hmmm, not really my problem. Better appreciate it while you can though, cuz I'm gonna go right on back to being a bitch when the mood strikes." she ammended with a yawn, kicking her feet up on the coffee table while listlessly looking down at her gut some more. Much as the preys cuteness warmed her heart, being NICE to prey was so dreadfully dull in comparison to how wonderful going Full Pred tended to feel.

Izzy: The squirrelly had never stopped to think how…/cruel/, really…it was that a Mom and Dad squirrel would name their son that. “Nutmeg”, a friggin’ SPICE for shit’s sake. Not only edible, but something people specifically request on desserts and such; what you put on pumpkin pie! Was that some kind of sick joke, or perhaps a premonition of what surely was to come for their child? Most likely not; prey don’t think that far ahead. Squirrels simply think an awful lot about the things they like, specifically to eat. “Nutmeg”, “Peanut”, “Cashew”, “Acorn”, all valid names in a squirrelly parent’s eye with “Peanut” being the “Jonathan” or first names for bushy-tailed little tree rats. It had never crossed Nutmeg’s mind that his name was, in fact, a food…at least…until she said so. A sudden wave or realization flooded the squirrelly’s brain for a moment as this became clear…prey really /were/ destined to be belly stuffing in every way, weren’t they? Luckily, this train of thought didn’t last long before she confused him further with her dialogue that was turning out to be quite a monologue instead. Did she just…apologize for eating him? Was she…no, she couldn’t be just saying it; Nutmeg was very perceptive about tone of voice (for whatever reason)…he could tell she was being sincere. At least, as sincere as a predator could be while talking to their own stomach. This was all a bit much for a little squirrelly to handle…this kitty was talking to him like he was an actual person. A /pred/ talking to him like a /person/. No prey DIDN’T wonder what that felt like…and now he was experiencing it, while…in her belly. It made the whole “dream coming true” experience a little tainted, to say the least and more than a little confusing. With a few more little squirms and squeaks, Nutmeg chittered out: “…M-Miss Kitty…” He trailed off, as he realized he didn’t know what he even wanted to or should ask. He was going to ask to be let go, her sudden civility making him at the chance to ask nicely to be let go thinking maybe she would have a change of heart (…from…two seconds ago, but still…) but the words turned into chitters and then silence as he just sat there in her belly, not knowing how to react to what he had just heard.

Random: Her ears flicked at his muffled voice, it was a great deal harder for her to hear him then the otherway around considering he was speaking from under layers of tummy flesh and fur somewhere in her middle quite far from her ears, but the vibrations of his voice against her inner flesh and keen sensitivity of those sharp pointers atop her head still let her make it out. And the words brought on quite a snicker, tracing a finger around her belly button in a hollow bit of self amusement. "Veronica is my name, Nutmeg. Miss Kitty is my mother~" she teased, wondering after she said it if the squirrel would even get the joke, figuring prey euphamisms probably were a world different from predator ones. Even still she continued "and no, I'm not gonna let you out. You can ask if you want, it feels good hearing you ask, which is mean I know but I can't help it it just does. And a small part of me does kind of want to I have to admit, but it's just not going to happen. I don't expect you to sympathize with this, but I want to Not Starve MORE then I care about how much you suffer in there." She shrugged to herself, letting out a little bit of breath contained in her belly, "that's just the way it is. Wouldn't be very fair if I let you go and then went out to look for some other prey to eat instead, now would it? How would YOU feel if I told you 'I ate another prey earlier but let them go cuz they asked nicely'? Would make you think 'well what made HIM so special? Why wont you let ME go?' right? And realistically I can't let EVERY prey I catch go just cuz they ask, I'd starve! So that's just how it is. I was hungry, I ate you, the end. I feel a little bad about it, but also it feels really REALLY REALLY good so I also don't feel bad at all..." She blinked in a bit of surprise at the little expository tangent. It occured to her that this was the first time she'd ever voiced all these thoughts and feelings she'd always had, even to herself, let alone to her prey. The momentary self awareness made her a bit uncomfortable and she hiccuped out a little more air and now her belly was starting to press in on his body again but not quite to the point of smooshing like before.

Izzy: Nutmeg felt the playful poking making a little circle somewhere around his legs and tail and was almost instantly oriented at least as far as which way was up, which was down, and which side was her front. Instinctively, for some reason, he wiggled his way around to be facing outwards (from her perspective). He had no idea why he did this every time he suddenly realized he was facing the “wrong direction” and maybe the habit would fade eventually after a few days…weeks…months…years? ….decades??
He let out a little squeak and his ears popped up to full mast in interest at hearing her actual first name. The little squirrelly couldn’t even imagine up to that point what predator names could even be like. He hadn’t really thought of it before. Of course, they had to be different from prey names in some way but to actually hear one (not just from A predator, but HIS predator; the mouth he had heard it from was the very same one that had eaten him mere moments ago) right from the cat herself was…well, it certainly caught his interest. His next thought was even deeper down that rabbit…er…squirrel hole: her name was Veronica Kitty? …or was that not entirely true? Again, he felt something (well, he “felt” it literally vibrate all around him) in the way she said that - it was a lie but not a deceitful lie. He didn’t know the word because he had probably never heard a real “joke” before. Continuing on this ever changing roller coaster of emotions (as if his squirrelly brain were set on “shop demo”), her next few statements pulled him right back down from “=o” to “D=“ and caused another set of squirrelly squirms as he could feel the walls closing in…literally - her belly was beginning to shrink back to its normal size and it felt all the most restrictive now that he gotten somewhat used to its expanse. Hearing your predator compliment your quality as a meal or simply a thing filling their belly and taking up space in there was never pleasant and now his wigglings were getting a little purchase on the sides of her tummy as it gradually tightened a little bit at a time. Her words combined with the belly beginning to return its grip to normal in impossible to predict releases of air made the squirrelly panic set in a little again, causing a few more rodent-y squeaks as his wiggling increased. For a moment, the image of her lying on her couch in her predator apartment with his body bulging out her belly slightly flashed into his mind (just a good guess) which caused a little squeak of “…p-please…”

Random: The feline sighed through her nose at the squirrels squirms, the motions filling her with untold amounts of pleasure which of course she felt plenty guilty about especually at the sound of his quiet smothered little voice begging her, for what exactly? To let him out? To swallow more air so her belly was hugging him into a little squirrelly ball of food again? Either way the request only made her heart bleed all the more, and yet at the same time brought a devious smile to her lips at the feeling of dominance having a helpless morsel begging from within her belly filled her with. She was still in a good enough mood not to degenerate into cruel kittyishness quite yet though, but she wasn't restrained about purring and rubbing her tummy again in indulgence of the pleasure being so Full of prey gave. "How about YOU please, okay? Just try to understand? I'm not a monster. I feel bad about eating you. You're just so cute, I wanna give you a hug and a handful of acorns and send you on your way. But it's that same.... attraction(?) that made me just gobble you up on sight too! I feel bad about eating you but also eating you felt GOOD! Feels good! And I like how... heh, how that doesn't make sense..." she giggled to herself and bit her lip hesitantly; was she even talking to him anymore? She knew he wouldn't understand her, but it felt nice to actually codify all these feelings she'd never given voice to before but had always felt. She looked back at her belly and let out a sigh, the last of the extra air she'd swallowed down escaping with a squeaky expulsion that left her belly back into its normal spaceousness and letting her see the vague outline of prey through the flesh. She gently traced and rubbed at the feeling of his body, petting at his head in a way that felt distinctly different from the gluttinous rubbing of indulgence from before.
"Mmm, you feel good in there, Nutmeg. I'm glad I ate you. You're the perfect fit~ Not too big that you stretch me out but not too small that you're not filling enough. Juuust right. Feels good for me, but probably a bit clostraphobic in there for you, right?" she offered with a nervous chuckle, leaning in on herself with trademark feline flexability to prod at the tum with her nose. "Squirming aint gonna help ya, you know. It's just gonna feel GOOD for me and make me be a bitch again. Fair warning." she said in an octive just above a whisper, like she was trying to tell him a secret but still had to be loud enough that he heard her through the belly walls. "I'm not complaining, but you probably wont like it, soooo..." she added, trailing off and sitting back up, smiling loosely and curled up on the couch now that she felt more comfortable without having to contort her belly out with all that extra air just for the stupid unappreciative foods convinience.

Izzy: Out of all the predators in the world…maybe this one wasn’t…the /absolute/ worst one that he could have ended up in the belly of. Of course, the squirrelly’s thought process wasn’t exactly working on those wavelengths at the moment, perhaps never would be…but then again, he would have a lot of time to think it over now… The cat’s words just shook him about, not just because her voice seemed like a living thing in and of itself from within her body, but because they seemed to slingshot him about emotionally in a bipolar fashion. Just as she was beginning to make him feel “better” about things or distract him from his situation enough to calm him down a tad, she would instantly say something that brought him back down to Earth as it were. When a predator apologizes for eating you and then explains how good you feel in their belly and that they will never let you out…they open up to you enough to tell you their name and explain their actions in plain language (that you didn’t fully understand, but still) and then elaborated on how purr-inducing your capture and consumption had been…it’s enough to make a squirrelly’s head spin. …especially considering the concept of a washing machine was enough to make a squirrelly’s head spin. And just on time, as her explanation was captivating him enough to stop moving altogether and pay attention, her belly suddenly shrunk back to its normal size completely, grabbing and clinging onto the squirrelly just as before. The panic from this caused a few more squirms as he couldn’t tell initially if it was even tighter than before or still just the same…either way, it wasn’t very fun. His temporary “break” from the intense squeeze of her stomach now over, it was a lot more distracting and harder to stop moving completely out of some prey fear that if he stopped moving, the tummy would squeeze him even more. It felt like squirming was the only thing keeping him from getting completely crushed, even though this was the opposite of truth; her rubbing and squeezing certainly hit an all time high whenever he moved a lot. Still, squirrelly brain…if it’s not an acorn or peanut, it would take many sessions to fully explain something in a way that would make complete sense…
He couldn’t help his reactions for the most part; he was just a prey. Prey grey matter relied a lot more on simple instinct and simple reasoning. Even though he still felt…/something/…about this particular predator, he was a rodent and an eaten one at that. Regardless of what she had just told him and the fact that he knew she had meant it at least a /little/ bit earnestly, he couldn’t stop his body from moving and wiggling and squirming all on its own. Maybe if he could put his feelings into the proper words…but, being prey came with a restricted vocabulary that now consisted mainly of *squeak* and *squirm*…

Random: The panicked motions of her meal sent a tingle of pure predatory fulfillment up her spine and she hissed out from the sensation and bit her lip, groaning and leaning back to full enjoy the feeling. The squirrel really WAS the perfect meal, the perfect fit in her tummy, if she didn't know better she'd almost suspect he was moving the way he was to elicate such pleasurable feelings on purpose, but she knew he was just struggling on blind instinct and it was simple biology that made everything he did feel so damn good for her. And it wasn't the raw physical sensation either, while that was certainly an element of it, more it was the way it enforced the natural predatory nature of her very existence! She was ontop of the food chain, the squirrel was at the bottom. The dominance of simply existing as a predator with a prey in her belly was beyond compare, as if she'd found the slot in the universe that was pefectly shaped just for her to fit into it and suddenly everything seemed to click into place. An etherial sensation that went beyond purely the physical or even psychological, and more because of the reaction she had upon seeing Nutmeg and felt so instantly compelled to stuff him down into her belly where he belonged! That really was the proper way to describe it too in her mind; this was where he belonged, she just knew it automatically, and now she felt Full and all was right in the world. Finally she came down from the high enough to notice she'd been pressing down on her belly to make it an even tighter squeeze and encourage even more squirming from the poor rodent, mewing and releasing the pressure to let her belly snap back into place and be a bit roomier compared to the smothering tight ball she'd compacted it down to in her mind melting predlust. She panted in afterglow of the bellygasm and stood up, stretching her spine and scritching her butt while her other hand cupped under the bulge to keep her belly from sagging while she arched her back. "... I'mma get a drink. Get ready for a shower, okay?" she tiredly stated while walking towards the kitchen, her belly swaying with every step and most likely turning the squirrel about from the slipperyness of the hungry embrace.

Izzy: It didn’t (and probably never would) occur to Nutmeg that this indescribably monumental event in his life, getting caught and eaten, was insanely normal. Or maybe ‘mundane’ was a better word - it was so ordinary, it was happening every moment of every day in at least a few places. For Nutmeg, it was major because it was his entire life that had been altered and rendered unrecognizable; as far as the world at large was concerned however this scene of a rodent tucked deep into the body of a cat squirming and wiggling in fear while the cat in question enjoyed her new full state was so unremarkable and expected that it was utterly ordinary. As he squirmed and wiggled more out of instinct than anything else, her purring and the other various noises she was making began to change as did environment. It of course remained the tight kitty belly that he had already gotten to know so well, but it started to get…worse. Tighter, with less wiggle room becoming a very small space that his body occupied completely; the stomach around him became more and more like an organic straight jacket at a steadily increasing rate. Her body began reacting to him in a more aggressive way (at least, that’s how it felt from inside) as it clung to him from all over like somebody much larger grabbing every square inch of you at the same time. It felt like she herself was shrinking or something as he began to notice that his available space in the stomach was compressing even more from the side of her stomach he had ascertained was the front, meaning she was…
All of this sudden constriction, combined with an increase of sounds coming Sensurround from her body that was wrapped around him sent him into his highest mode of panic yet, even rivaling his mental state at having first plopped down into the organ that now held him so completely. This went on for an indiscernible amount of time that felt…pretty lengthly to be on the business end of. Just as suddenly, it tapered off and things began to return to what they had been. His panicked squirming continuing regardless, his meager bit of wiggle room returned and the body came down from this plateaux of predation and activity. The intense surge was replaced by the sloshing and jigglings indicating she was walking somewhere. Nutmeg was still so in shock from whatever had just happened (he still didn’t know), he didn’t even make out what she had said…but he knew she’d said something…

Random: The feline felt the rodents panicked squirming persist even after she let up the pressure, probably making up for the complete lack of movement the tightness had restricted while she'd been pushing down, but the sympathy she felt for how confused and terrified he must have been was overwrote by the intense feeling of pleasure having his little body stimulating the internals of her stomach sent through her. Of course if having prey struggle in ones belly felt uncomfortable or aggitating predators would never have evolved to eat them whole and alive in the first place; the friction of a helpless rodent wiggling frantically against the slick flesh felt good to encourage the act of devouring them for survival, and of course the evolutionary pleasure brought about an encouragement to engage in the activity beyond the need for simple survival causing quite the feedback loop until the arriving at the modern day, where Veronica actually needed to stop and brace herself against the wall as she was wracked from tip to toe with a sensation originating from the oblivious squirrel at the core of her being. Her breathing hitched and her toes curled, she even started dry-kneading into the wall out of feline instinct, and her tail flicked wildly behind her - there was simply no room for guilt with her brain being flooded with endorphines with every smothered flail. Thankfully without a force internal or external to work on it her belly maintained its shape, stretching out from Nutmegs pushes and squirms before snapping back into position until he settled down or wore himself out, letting her come down from the high with her throat dry and panting. After a moment or two she pushed away from the wall on trembling limbs and resumed her walk to the kitchen, giggling drunkly and letting out a 'phew' while patting her belly with approval. "Definitely need a drink.... damn."

Izzy: At this point, poor Nutmeg’s energy reserves were quite zapped. Though the adrenalin still coursing through his body (it had been ever since that first moment he spotted her, long after she had already spotted him) was keeping him pretty active even IT would have to give it a rest at some point. Adrenalin is quite well known for causing nearly super human…er, super…squirrel? Seemingly super strength, is the point…that can be sustained for very long periods of time. If it weren’t for the fear/panic/stress hormones, the squirrelly would be an exhausted ball of fuzz by now. He wasn’t quite out of juice yet, but the incident moments ago had used up a good deal of his supply…his squirrelly stash, as it were…and by now, he was beginning to slow a little. He could hear her purr every moment, even if someone on the outside say standing right next to her couldn’t - he could now hear even her most quiet of sounds to an outside observer. Ever since he had filled her belly, her chest had been alight with the sound of kitty-cat-like purring as a backdrop to every other noise her body made; every noise and word had purr clinging to it like static. Everything back to “normal” inside the stomach, his latest little outburst of thrashing began to catch up with the poor squirrelly and he began to droop just a little bit, his fitful wigglings against her belly walls (sort of a constant screensaver of being inside her) a little weaker. It was then that he realized what she had said, as he was still in the process of letting his emotion levels return to the standard “having been eaten” levels. …she was going to? …with him…? Seriously?! Nutmeg thought he had misheard at first; it was almost like an insult that he didn’t want to admit was insulting. She had filled her belly with him, and that still wasn’t enough? She needed more? He wondered how it would even work…IF it would even work. In all his years worrying about what it would be like to get eaten, he had never considered that. A string of squeaky noises flowed from him as he gave fitful little wiggles.

Random: The feline kept her hand resting over her pudgey tum as she slinked into her kitchen, a smile painted on her face at the feelings of her meal still moving around though much less vigerously then before, keeping her buzzed as she snatched up a cup from her cubboard. However when she opened up the fridge disappointment melted her expression, being met with a distinct deficency in the expected levels of drank then she remembered! A sigh escaped as she slammed the fridge door shut in frustration; it hadn't been the first time she forgot to go grocery shopping before a hunt. She stood and considered her position for a second or two, rubbing her belly idly with the sparks of pleasure that shot up her spine at pushing the sensitive inner walls down into the rodents body buckling her train of thought, until she perked up with a smile and snapped her fingers. "My snarlbucks rewards card! I'm due a free drink!" she announced, looking down at her tum and giving it a poke "I'll get to show you off to the girls while I'm down there too! Two birds with one stone." She was all grins and practically skipping out of her apartment with a casual flair, her belly bouncing from the motion and flipping the rodent around against the slippery slide walls of the organ.

Izzy: Obviously, he could tell whenever she rubbed or squeezed or pushed on her belly - the experience could not be more physical and invasive. However, he was able to more mysteriously tell whenever she simply held her hand over her stomach; he could tell she was doing it at this very moment. Maybe there was a slight bit of pressure that he could perceive, but it was as if he could see the shadow of her paw resting on her own tummy through the layers of fur and fat and flesh…even though that was surely impossible. He continued to be jostled around slightly, not nearly as much as he knew her belly was capable of, but somewhat like being in a moving car or perhaps a train with not so great shocks - bumps and jostles. He could also somehow tune into her current mood, through a combination of some sort of animalistic pheromone perception (what better place to pick up such a thing that right next to the many organs that help to concoct it!) and instincts. He could feel the aura of disappointment that came over her even though he had no idea what was causing it. An immense sigh of relief manifested itself into the physical and an actual little squirrelly sigh came from the cat’s belly when he put together what must have caused it (his best guess, anyway) and that he was safe from discovering exactly what such an unpleasant experience felt like. Just as quickly, a eureka moment broke through the optimism even though Nutmeg didn’t at first understand what she was talking about. As she continued, however, he was able to put two and two together (taking a little longer to figure things out due to his squirrelliness and not quite getting a lot of predator sayings and colloquialisms) and everything fell right back to “O_o oh dear”. Just as he came to this conclusion, he was greeted by a plethora of jostles and bumps and vigorous shaking and smooshing as she moved quite energetically now. He didn’t know EXACTLY where she (and by extension, he) was headed…but he had an idea he wasn’t going to like it very much.

Random: Luckily her apartment complex was right down the street from the local watering hole so it was a short little jaunt compared to the trekk back to her home after catching Nutmeg in the first place, although with a bit more jostling considering how energetic she was. As she strolled in she was greeted with a wave of recognition from the staff, being quite the regular, and the discussion beyond the belly was enough to reach the squirrels ears even through layers of belly so he knew which way to orient so he was facing front at the very least. The specifics of the conversation were lost in a jumbled chorus of mews and growls of predatory communication, but even through the language barrier and natural fear filter of 'predators nearby oh shit' it didn't take much deductive reasoning to figure what the central topic was. Almost as if on que a wave of belly rubs was imposed on the poor rodent, somehow the various hands pressing in on the belly were recognizably NOT Veronica's as they pushed and rubbed in on the trapped figure inside, and the muffled incomprehensible praise was still clearly distinct: the felines predator friends were congratulating her on a successful hunt and appraising Nutmeg's status as a meal positively, a few key phrases even dropping down on his ears like a ton of bricks such as "an easy catch" and "simply delectable" and "a perfect fit." Finally the friendly banter seemed to disipate into a more professional exchange as Veronica ordered her drink, the cat even grinning cruelly and looking down at her belly before answering "Hot or cold? Hmm, I dunno today~ Surprise us!" the naked sincereity back in the comfort of her own home was completely gone, and the squirrel was nothing but prey to torment even after stealing his life away by making a meal of him.

Izzy: As much as the darkness of being inside a belly frightened him, he was IMMENSELY glad he couldn’t be seen at this exact moment…although, it still kind of felt like he /could/ be seen. Of course, he could be seen as a slight bulge to her tummy plain as day but…with all the obvious attention, it felt like they actually could see him - he still felt their eyes peering at him through the fleshy layers of his predator. It wasn’t that Nutmeg was afraid of the dark; darkness is safety in a rodent’s mind. But the darkness caused by being in a predator’s stomach…being in the living shadow caused by another creature enveloping your entire body/world…that was a little different. It was darkness imposed upon him by his feline predator; the darkness had a name. Little Nutmeg could /sense/ in the worst way that he was in the company of a group of predators. The sense of a predator being near was the main thing causing his mind to fire synapses wildly and keep him wiggling like crazy though the whole process; that tremble enduring “oh crap!!” level of panic brought it brought on was simply happening all of the time now. Now that he was actually /inside/ of a predator, that feeling had never been so strong and would never let up as his entire life as cat food. But something was different now; he was picking up on variations of this familiar sense. A canid, maybe a fox…a different type of cat…like a scent - they were similar to his predator’s but subtly different and he /knew/ he was in a fairly large group of predators. Well…he wasn’t, his predator was…so he WAS but…it was so confusing to try and diagram now. The belly he was in was almost protecting him…and that was confusing…because if he really were in the middle of a group of predators this big, his little heart might give out before they even had a chance to make a move on him. But, he was already taken. The little snippets of conversation and all the squishing down of the unfamiliar hands…the thought that she was being complimented for having eaten him…it caused a good deal of little squirms and kicks and squeaks and squirrelly noises so that those doing the rubbing would have gotten a good indication of what was sealed up inside even if she hadn’t informed them. And his day was just getting so much better upon hearing her intentionally loud enough for him to hear question…getting his squirrelly second wind, he put on quite a squirm performance most definitely visible to any observers of belly of which she apparently had a few.

Random: The reaction was just what they'd been hoping for it seemed since his wild stirring was met with giggles from multiple sources, even strangers who nevertheless recognized Veronica as a Full predator and the wiggles from her middles being from a prey she'd devoured. Any predator would have the same reaction to such a sight, a sort of vindication and confidence; predators were meant to eat prey, not only was it their biological perogitive, but look at how many other predators were doing the same thing! How can it be wrong if everyone else is doing it, was the mentality, ontop of many other mentalities such as the inherent instinctful good feelings that the simple act of eating a prey brought and the rush the dominance of tormenting said prey before during and after the act as well. Really there was very little if ANYTHING in the world of predators that didn't reenforce their status on the food chain and state as the superior critters in the world compared to their edible contemporaries. Prey were so subjigated that they were even a commodity, the barrista asking Veronia if she wanted a complimentary preybagel with her drink, selling it as "giving the little guy some company" and guaranteeing that twice the amount of squirms would be even better! The feline could only grin and refuse though, the honest reason being that she wasn't exactly a big kitty by feline standards and the squirrel was more then filling enough for her that one more ontop of him would pass the threshhold into being uncomfortably strenous on her gut, but lacing the refusal with a teasing question of if anyone EVER accepted that deal; why get a storebought prey when hunting one down yourself was just so much more of a satisfying experience for countless reasons? Finally the cat recieved her drink and snickered as she pet her tummy to build up the anticipation of what the rodent inside was in for while she took a seat at the cafe. She had nowhere else to go and nothing else to do today but enjoy her meal to the fullest, so she was content to enjoy her drink at the establishment and casually soak in the congrats from other customers who noticed her gurgling belly. Finally she sighed and leaned back while taking a sip, the contents of the drink finally being reveiled to Nutmeg as it poured into the belly ontop of him.

Izzy: It was a peridoxical moment to the extreme; to be completely hidden away but at the center of attention at the same time. And the fact that you’re hidden away being the /reason/ you’re at the center of attention…but if you were still on the outside, you would be even /more/ of a…it was confusing. So hidden yet so visible to the people who knew where to look and why. Nothing could possibly make it more obvious that you have a little prey sealed up in your belly than your midsection swishing and wiggling with squirming from the inside. Unless you were a magician, there was only one thing in the word that could cause that. He was on display and hidden at the same time. His wiggles and squirms and squeaks were just par for the course, the typical reaction and seemed to be exactly what the audience was not only expecting but anticipating. Seeing a prey (him) squirm around in someone else made them think not only of him/her but themselves as well; the cat was getting direct physical pleasure from his movements, but the others were getting pleasure out of it too. Not the same kind, but very similar. You may be your predator’s meal, but the whole room is enjoying you. Like so many of the things he had heard spoken by a predator’s voice since being eaten, he had to fill in some blanks and specifics and understand the whole picture of what was being said on a macro level. He didn’t know /exactly/ what the muffled voice behind the cash register was talking about but he got the picture soon enough and let out a particularly high pitched little squeak. She meant…? She was trying to sell her a…? For a moment, he assumed she would take the cashier up on her offer and freaked out a bit thinking of how absolute cramped having another prey inside would be…every time he thought the situation couldn’t get worse… Relief flooded his system when she declined the offer, but didn’t quite settle - she had tuned it down, but surely the little critter she’d been offered would be eaten eventually. Like Nutmeg himself, it was just a matter of time. The belly settled slightly as she scooted into her seat and he could already sense what was going to come next. The buildup lasted for what felt like hours as she took her time getting comfy and bringing the cup to the mouth he had passed through earlier that very same day. Strange liquid noises and small gulps (similar to the one that had doomed him to a life of being food) sounded from above and shortly thereafter, hot (not too hot, but warmer than her body temperature) tea came pouring in from somewhere Nutmeg couldn’t see. Very loud squeaks of surprise and panic erupted from the little squirrelly, her belly exploding with fearful squirms and wiggles as his instincts told him to get as far away as possible. It wasn’t an act - she was actually sipping tea with him in her belly!

Random: The feline was rewarded for her ingestion of her favorite drink with not only the sweet tangy flavor of it going down her throat, but the subsiquent reaction from her meal upon the mouthful of liquid mercilessly splashing down over him. There was nowhere he could go or move to escape it, he was situated right under the sealed end of her throat and even if he wasn't being dunked on directly the liquid splashed against the walls and pooled at the bottom of the belly soaking him from every angle in warm tea. Yet it was still instinct to try and move out of the way, to struggle impotently against the belly surroundings that refused to budge or provide any leeway, only recieving the stimulation of his movements in the same way it always had and always would, by transmiting signals of unparalleled bliss directly into her brain. She hissed inwardly and bit her lip, leaning back in her chair while pressing down on her belly to feel the rodents movements against her palm through the layer of skin and pudge, the raw physical sensation of it matched by the mental ecstacy of imposing such a humiliation on the helpless critter. Truly there was no more clear act of predatory dominance then washing down ones meal and filling the belly with more sustinence along with him, as if to loudly comminucate without a single word that he was nothing but food, and even then not anything special or unique, occupying the same status as this drink and any other snack she'd be enjoying in the future. The grand summation and totality of his life, being her food, and yet that was all he was; for the rest of his life she would be his only predator, but he was far from her only meal. That and the simple discomfort of being dunked on by a raining mouthful of hot fluids in and of itself was far from a very enjoyable experience on its own, making for quite a cocktail of feelings that all burst in her feline mind like fireworks. After a playful smack of the lips she gave the belly a definitive pat and took another sip of her drink, repeating the cycle all over again.

Izzy: If Consumer Report were to test the safe operating levels of squirrelly panic, the program that Nutmeg had been put through so far would be a very good place to start. Every time he thought his situation couldn’t get worse…it did! Much like how putting on a straight jacket and acting as if you’re trying to free yourself from it will cause /real/ panic set in, the experience of being in a belly that is being filled with hot liquid (much like a freshly drawn bath that hasn’t had time to cool down) is one thing but the natural reaction you would have to recoil and pull away not only unable to work but actually sproing!ing you back into the very liquid you’re trying to avoid…it’s a vicious cycle. Nutmeg would squeak in reaction to having the tea dumped on top of him, causing him to pull away and try to avoid it as it pooled and collected at the bottom of her belly, chittering all the while. The elastic stomach walls would then shoot him right back to the center, where it was waiting for him which would cause another very similar reaction. And this took place with every gulp, repeating itself a good number of times in sequence as she sipped her drink. The pat of her tummy transformed into a thud that made the liquid all around the squirrelly slosh all around, quivering and tremoring. Her belly being just about his size, and already /filled/ with him, there wasn’t too terribly much room for more… He squeaked and sloshed in the tea, pushing out at the belly walls just as he had done the entire day and, same as always, they simply puuuuuushed out before snapping right back, sloshing tea in a little wave that would nearly wash over the rodent. In between panicked squeaks and chitters, he let out a little sentence of “…l-let me out…please…”
Every push of her belly walls would cause the level to drop before it swelled back up once the belly returned to its normal position around his squirrelly body.

Random: The feline purred as she enjoyed her drink and the background commotion of the cafe going about its business, not paying much attention to the squirrel beyond being awash in sensations of his movements inside her, the sounds of her belly being pushed and jumbled about gaining a lot more weight to them as his wiggles brought sloshes and splashes from the fluids pooling in her gut. The tea mixed with her own natural digestive juices and made for quite the chyme submurging more then half his body, gently soaking amidst the splishsplash of his movements and 'cooling' from the heat it'd had when she swallowed to stagnanting at her natural body tempurature so the liquid wasn't any more hot then the belly had already been on its own in the first place. By that point though the squirrelly was thoroughly soaked even beyond being half dunked in the stuff and well on the way to being soggy under the waterline while the belly gurgles around him. In all the panic it was impossible to grasp any semblence of times passage since the feline seemed to be ignoring him and just enjoying her drink, not much of a pattern to her irregular sipping and the constant white noise of her purring to clue him in so there was no way to know how long she spent in the cafe simply lounging and enjoying her drink drawing out the experience to its fullest. At last though she let out a sigh of finality and the gut started bouncing and swaying again, a great deal more ardious activity for a belly to do now that it was more then half filled with tea in addition to a wiggly rodent, as the feline got up and tossed her cup in the recyclable and elft the establishment after a quick goodbye to her friends, absentmindedly resting her hand on her churning belly while she slowly walked back to her apartment with a whistful hum.

Izzy: The squirrelly kept up the squirming and wiggling and sloshing for quite a while as the kitty leisurely enjoyed her beverage, the liquid adding weight and heft to his rodent-y struggles, only becoming more so as time went on. As terrible and degrading as being handled as a piece of food had been up to this point (which was quite a lot!), this more than anything else established and cemented his place. More than just being told he was food, or even being inside of the organ whose only job is so store and deal with food didn’t make him feel more like just another part of the food group than sitting in her belly as it filled up with the tea she was currently enjoying. It all went to the same place, whether it was a cup of tea or a scampering little squirrelly who had been caught while trying to escape - he was no different from anything else on a plate. The liquid surrounding him was his coequal, almost his peer. It was all just “food” as far as she and her body were concerned and her biology had no interest in sustaining some kind of squirrelly fantasy of still not being kitty food despite being inside of a cat’s belly, surrounded in every way possible by a superior feline predator. His pathetic wiggles lasted longer than he probably imagined they did, his squirrelly body sloshing in the strangest and most dehumanizing bathtub would could imagine, before he began to tire out. All he could offer after a while was the same sort of background-noise-baseline-wiggling he had been keeping up ever since he’d been swallowed. Unable to tell much about what was happening outside of his prison/predator and with his wiggling now slowing a bit, a somewhat counterintuitive instinct took hold of him and a very small noise of “cheep!cheep!cheep!cheep!” might have been heard coming from her belly. The characteristic squirrelly warning signal of a feline in the immediate area, warning all other squirrels to take cover and try not to look tasty, came out in a sort of strange desperation. It was obviously a little too late in every sense of the phrase for such measures; the only squirrels nearby would probably be on the shelf, dressed up in some kind dessert topping, waiting to be bought and the feline he was warning them about…well, he was INSIDE of her for acorn’s sake! And that’s assuming, of course, they could even hear it in the first place coming from so deep inside of his predator. Still, though, the deepest animalistic parts of the squirrelly’s brain insisted for some reason that he continue calling out his squeaky little warning.

Random: The feline was halfway back home by the time she even noticed the squirrelly cheeping away inside her belly, having been too lost in the haze of her predatory satisfaction and communal to pay any attention to the rodent besides the pleasure his strained wiggles brought her. She frowned with the corners of her lips still turned up in a sympathetic smile and let out an 'awwe' as he rubbed her tum, pinching the bottom of her lip in hestitation for a moment and then shaking her belly around letting the poor prey slosh and dunk under all the liquid sharing the space with him. "Oh shoot, I'm sorry Nutmeg. All this must be absolutely miserable for you, huh?" she said once her belly settled enough from all the sloshing, her voice echoing all around the squirrel too worn out from pointless wiggling and heavy soaked fur and being tumbled around like a washing machine. At least with the pool of burbling tea it was easy to tell which way was rightside up, since if he wasn't he'd be headfirst under the chest high pool of drink. "I really am sorry, Nutmeg. I hope you believe that because it's true. It hurts me knowing that you're suffering in there.... but..." she trailed off with a shrug, tracing her finger down the front of her belly. Her voice sounded so sincere, not longer the cruel callaus predator that was conversing with the other carnivores in the cafe, there was no need to keep up apperances now that she was in her apartment building and those malicious urges had been more then satisfied so she'd quickly settled back into her more humane state of mind. "I guess you wouldn't really understand. Or sympathize. But it just feels so GOOD treating you like that! Like..." a shudder went up her spine as she struggled to put the experience into words. "I can't really help it... It just feels natural, like the way you're chittering. Hehe, you must KNOW rationally how pointless that is, right? But you just GOTTA, right? Sorta like that, but.... not really the same." After letting the explination settle, though she was aware that it wouldn't make any difference and it was likely the rodent wouldn't have even registered a single thing she said in his current state of mind, but it did alleviate her own guilt somewhat, she reached her apartment door and pushed inside, sighing happily at being able to let her peverbial hair down again and making plans to settle in and simply enjoy the satisfaction of her meal without interuption now that her thirst was quenched as well.

Izzy: Pretty soon even the squirrel’s cheepcheeping had slowed to a squeaky little noise every few seconds, the sound even muffled to the squirrelly himself at this point being inside such a cramped yet squishy space now having the large quantity of tea in there with him compete for available space inside her stomach. It was sort of like being trapped inside one of those pool toys, with water filled almost up to the top with just enough to allow you to breath comfortably…except replace “pool toy” with “cat belly” and “water” with “tea that she drank while you’re ALREADY IN THERE! ><“. Everything else was muffled as well, every internal sound her body made permeated through a sloshy pool of tea. Her belly rubbing was far more dramatic, the simple rubbing motions of her hand across her quite full belly having its movements amplified and exaggerated by the liquid that surrounded the squirrelly, somewhat like a mini wave machine only the squirrelly wasn’t be /subjected/ to the waves, it was like he /was/ the wave, part of it. Like you’re experiencing a wave while simultaneously being part of the ocean - in his currently environment, there was no difference between the squirrelly and whatever else was in there with him, it was all one mass and he almost felt like he had melted or something and had BECOME part of the liquid that surrounded him. And, as always, just when it felt like it couldn’t get worse… The squirrelly’s world suddenly erupted into a jumbling, slippery explosion of movements and sloshing as her belly jostled around like mad, shaking every which way and tossing the squirrelly about in the pool of consumed tea. His little cheeps instantly changed to frantic squeaks and chitters as he was tossed every which way, dunked into and out of his fellow stomach contents. It didn’t last long, but it certainly gave him somewhat of a…fifth wind? Tenth wind? Who was even counting at this point? His slowing wiggles picked up strength and his squeaking resumed although both obviously quite weakened from what they had been most of the day. Her words now vibrated around him like he was sitting directly in a subwoofer. His little squirrel head had little hope wrapping itself around kitty cat reasonings, or any predator logic for that matter. Nutmeg could kind of understand a bit of what she was getting at, though the specifics certainly eluded him. It made him feel…something…though he couldn’t place what. Still though, no matter what she said, it would probably never cease to fill him with submissiveness and dread…that was the voice of his predator, after all. He chittered slightly in response to her words, giving the stomach walls a little push.

Random: The feline sighed contently as she settled down on her couch again, smiling and poking at her belly at the feeling of the squirrelly still moving around and pushing against her inner walls. She had no way of knowing what the experience was like for the poor rodent, and never would, but she had enough empathy to try and imagine herself in the situation and wonder if she'd still have the energy or even physical ability to continue the hopeless struggle were she in his position. But that train of thought eventually lead her to imagining a squirrel with a cat filled belly and the absurdity of the mental image made her crack up, the laugher like an earthquake from the perspective of the interior of her belly with the tea and squirrel inside bouncing and splashing up in irregular droplets and swirlings. Every time it felt like a sensible rythm from the natural motions of her stomach working on the meal it had in its midst took hold it was interupted by some external force imposing itself on the process, whether it was kitty laugher or belly rubbing, and it didn't make thing the least bit easier in allowing the squirrel to accomidate to his new liquid room mate. "Heheeee, woo. Oh man. Nutmeg, I feel ~amazing~. It's as if, I mean, I could compare what I THOUGHT the happiest moments in my life were before to right now, and it doesn't even compare! It just feels so amazing having you in my belly, I can't even put it into words." a purr escaped her as she lay out on her side longways on the couch after the statement, the purring making the tea ripple and splash around him even after it finally settled from all the motion of her moving around. She lay there for quite a long time, not that the rodent could maintain any semblence of the passage of time from inside her, but for her a good half an hour or so ticked by and she nearly fell asleep simply lounging and enjoying the existential fulfillment of having her belly full of prey. Finally she yawned and drapsed a hand over her tum, forgetting that it doesn't actually swollen out as far as it FELT like it did with how full it was, petting over the squirrels head through the layer of gut in a tired affection. "How you holding up, Nutmeg? anything I can do to make your stay in casa de kitty more enjoyable? And don't bother saying to let you out, cuz it aint gonna happen, gimme a real answer~"

Izzy: The term “swallowed” had never resonated more thoroughly than right now. Not only had he been literally swallowed, physically but everything he knew to be the world got swallowed up along with his body. He would never again have perspective on anything, know when or where he was. Every single thing in the entire world had been replaced by her belly; she would be the only reality he would ever know for the rest of his existence. She was his entire world in every sense; he would know nothing more than the inside of her stomach from now on. The entire universe could end and he would never know, because his already had. Wherever his predator was, he was…but he would never know where /that/ was. It was so paradoxical; he knew exactly where he was but at the same time would never truly know where that was (he’s in her, obviously, but where is she?). He would never again experience light or weather or wind or…/anything/ other than the inside of her midsection…and whatever else she decided would share stomach space with him from now on. And his life altering terror was so ordinary…really, what he had been through was so typical that it was obvious. She was just a cat with a rodent in her belly. Do you know how many of those there are? Whatever the number is, it has a lot of zeros at the end. Rodents are cat food, everyone knows that; a cat with a belly full of rodent is like a flytrap with flies on it…it’s sort of the point. Her laughter was a chaotic event, to say the least. The jostling and sloshing and strange movements her stomach made when she laughed were bad enough, but the emotions the little squirrelly felt in reaction were worse. A cat’s laughter was similar to a cat’s purr (maybe not /that/ bad)…rodents didn’t enjoy hearing it. And again…with the added touch of it being muffled while at the same time amplified the fact that you’re hearing it from inside of the feline who finds your plight so amusing…that adds that extra little touch…of squirrelly nightmares… Of course, her explanation of how wonderful she felt now as a direct consequence of devouring him was no scamper in the park either, causing a few more pitiful little squeaks and a few good squirms and pushes (that was how he chose to communicate now, it seemed). Almost worse than the words, though, was the silence that came after. What felt like an inordinate amount of time passed in relative stillness…well, that’s not entirely true - the squirrelly’s home was always alive with some sound or process or gurgle. But for what surely was enough time for it to be the next day (was it already the next day? had it been two? when had he been eaten in comparison to now? …he had no idea) there were no further words or rubs from her as her breathing evened out. He could still sense her beaming at her accomplishment and predator superiority but there were no words…at least, until..

Nutmeg was silent for the longest time before, after a squeak or two: “…I-I’m kitty food…”
As if it had caught up with him and he had…not accepted it, but… It was still something he didn’t want to be, but there was no denying that it’s what he was…even to a fuzzy like him.

Random: The feline let a small smile creep over her lips at the sounds of the squirrels pitiful, waterlogged voice. It filled her with such delight to hear it, especually muffled under layers of her belly, but she didn't miss a word; he was such a cute little thing, and knowing that every sound he made only reached her from the core of her very being added to that insatiable sense of food-chain annointed dominance. She gave her tummy a light rub in response and hummed in agreement. "Yes. You are.... but does that really have to be such a bad thing?" She perked a bit as she looked down at her middle, kneading in to scritch at the figure of squirrelly underneath in an attempt to comfort as if trying to make her suggestion seem more alluring. "I mean, if I got eaten it would suck... but what did you have going for you in your life? All prey do all day is try not to get eaten, ALL day. And it's such a pointless existence to since, well, you failed. I ate you. The end. Do you REALLY wanna just sit there in my belly and feel miserable about that for the rest of your life? Do you REALLY wanna be let out just so you can go back to living in fear and poverty trying to avoid ending up in ANOTHER predators belly all over again?" She mrrfed as she pushed herself up, righting into a proper sit again and looking down at her belly, cupping her hands under the bottom to prop it up as she addressed her meal. "I know I can be a bit of a bitch about it, and I doubt you're EVER going to come around to enjoying that even if it did take you the rest of your life to try, but I'm sure there's a way i can convince you to... at least accept that this is the rest of your life now?... maybe?" she deep down didn't REALLY care about the squirrels feelings at the end of the day, she just wanted to appease her own guilt about the situation and to a certain extent get some validation about this whole situation: if she could convince the squirrel himself to admit there was nothing wrong with her eating him, then she'd never even have to think twice about it ever again!

Izzy: In a cruel sort of twist of animal biology, he could tell whenever she smiled. He would never be able to see it (…yay? …boo? …feelings on that a bit murky, to be honest) but he could always somehow /feel/ when she was smiling in response to something he did or said or just the fact that he existed inside of her. Like one can sense light even with their eyes closed as a bright tableaux of unexplainable “sight” without “vision”, he could sense inside when she was smiling because of him. The little rub of her tummy was just confirmation - whether cruelly or not, she had enjoyed hearing him say that and he knew it. He couldn’t help but squeak and lower his ears in submission when she confirmed his statement simply, still wishing of course that it weren’t true and that he wasn’t currently where he was. Her words continued to cause squirrelly a great deal of near-headaches for the little squeaky. “Yes, you are kitty food” and “does it have to be such a bad thing” in the same sentence was like boobs on a lamppost…just didn’t make sense. Of course it had to be such a bad thing…outside of logic lies instinct. And every fiber of the squirrelly’s being was built at its core on simpler, animalistic instinct (indeed, even predators were, in their own way). Instinct told you to do things and you obeyed, you didn’t question it. Perhaps it was reproduction - can’t have many of the thousands of squirrelly babies you were expected to produce if you were stuck inside a predator’s gut, after all…but whatever the true reason, nothing was more dominant in a prey’s brain than not wanting to be eaten. Anything else is an acceptable loss; being eaten is the one that you cannot recover from. Of course, the fuzzy little rodent filling out this particular kitty’s belly had never, probably would never, think that deeply into it. Squirrellies weren’t much for philosophical analysis of things…except maybe acorn tastiness… He was just another rodent in somewhat blind obedience to what his brain told him to do, and he knew that being eaten would never be anything but the absolute worst thing in the world. It would never stop being the one thing he didn’t want most…but… Perhaps he was picking up on what the kitty was putting down, or at least could understand where she was coming from even if he didn’t understand the particulars. Being eaten was always going to be the worst thing ever, but…even though he could never not be afraid of her and he could never not think that one more plea to be let out of her belly was enough to finally give him back his freedom…maybe he at least understood that what had happened wasn’t…”personal”. Predators needed to eat and they were just powerless against certain instinctual commands as little squeaks like him. Again, not that all of this was going through his head specifically, he was just catching the CliffNotes version…but, still…the thought formed in his head (though he didn’t quite know the words to express it) that he didn’t take her eating him…”personally”… He tried his best to squeak this out and maybe if she spoke Squirrel she would understand perfectly what he was saying.

Random: The felines ears could only flick as an outlet to the quizzical reaction to his muffled squeaks. She frowned, knowing that he was trying to say SOMETHING in that little squirrelly cheepsqueak speak of his, but it was beyond her, and that frustrated her quite a bit - she hated not understanding people, even if she happened to cross a station that was showing a forign film or whathaveyou when she was channel surfing it brought a furrow to her brow. Perhaps that too was just irrational instinct, it was hard to maliciously enjoy the pleas of your prey if you didn't know what they were saying, but even then at least one could be aware that they were TRYING to plea and beg even if one didn't understand the particulars, but even that abstract enjoyment was absent from this particular cultural exchange. Her only recourse was to harumph and pinch her lips to the side, sliding down in her seat and looking up at the ceiling for lack of any other outlet for the feelings boiling in her chest. "Friggen, come on... just s-stop being all bummed out that I ate you already." she mummbled mostly to herself but of course her voice rang loud and clear from inside her especually with the amplyfing liquid still filling her gut, the only intentional interaction made as she said it being an accusitory poking at her belly. "I don't LIKE feeling bad that I ate you... I WANT to just be able to know you're just food and your feelings dont actually matter like all my friends."of course that wasn't STRICTLY true, the guilt certainly added that bit of taboo edge to her predatory indulgences, but now the afterglow of those engrossing feelings had long sense passed and now she was left with the post-maturbatory shame. She wanted to communicate with the tasty little thing and convince him to agree with the state of their relationship on the food chain, but of course she was approaching the topic from the perspective of herself being a predator, and try as she might to sympathize she would never REALLY understand what it was like to be a prey and thus no matter how she tried to raise the issue it would never make sense to the preyish mentality that had never and would never have to frame her own life through. It was more then just a language or cultural barrier, like tapping morse code on the wall to try and talk to someone who was deaf. She lacked the perspective to actually realize that though, to realize she would never really understand the squirrel, all she did understand was that the squirrel felt bad and that made HER feel bad, and she didn't like feeling bad! "Heh, maybe you can reach up into my brain and rip out the part that makes me give a shit... or at least start squirming like a mexican jumping bean again, so I'll be in too much pleasure to have time to care about it." Again, mostly talking to herself, but...

Izzy: He would never forget what his predator looked like. No matter how much time he spent in his dark, tight prison he would always remember that. It had seared itself quite unforgettably in the squirrelly’s brain - it could probably be said that every single belly-occupying prey in history /never/ forgot the sight of their predator. For a brief moment, though, a terrible image flashed in his mind to compliment it; the image of his predator now sporting a nice full belly, slightly swollen with its contents, while the kitty in question smiled broadly with the very mouth that had consumed him that very day (..or yesterday, or last week, or whenever it had been at this point). It only lasted for a brief second or two but it caused a little jolt of a squirm accompanied by a sharp, high-pitched “squeak!” giving a good slosh inside her stomach. Much like those headphones that simply vibrate your jaw bone to stimulate the bones inside your ear directly instead of using acoustic sound waves, Nutmeg could hear and understand what she said even if he held his ears all the way down, though he was filled with such submissiveness and defeated-ness that they were pretty low to start with since he’d been eaten. It was sort of akin to when you catch glimpses of things as a kid that you didn’t quite understand. He was registering it, it was sparking something inside of his brain, but he couldn’t really put it into context. Like the saying that even if a lion could speak, its frames of reference would be so off from ours that they might as well still be unable to speak…a squirrelly trying to relate to a kitty’s assumptions and frames of reference was fairly doomed from the start. It wasn’t that Nutmeg was unintelligent, it’s just that he was still a squirrel. A prey has simpler calculations to make on a day to day basis, and squirrels communicate in very different ways from kittehs (as illustrated by the language barrier earlier between meows and chitters). Still, though, Nutmeg was picking up on something that he had never really thought of before on his own. Maybe it was what she was saying, maybe it wasn’t…he wasn’t sure, but he knew that it was important that he get it out in a way that she could understand. This was no mean feat, considering he would most likely struggle to get it out in a way that a fellow squirrelly could understand, let alone a big scary kitty lady! After a few startup squeaks and a chitter or two, he started softly forming words.

“…p-predators…have to eat…l-like squirrels have to…eat…nuts…”

He struggled to get that last part out - while he understood that they both had eating in common and would starve without it, he still did not enjoy likening himself to the nuts that he had eaten throughout his life. I mean…nuts didn’t talk or scamper or squeak or build shelters…he and nuts were different…right? Either way, he liked to believe so…but he knew it was the only way to get the idea he was trying to convey across to someone like her. Still, the little sentence came with a few squirms of discomfort at having made a point like that.

Random: For most of the squirrels attempts to chitter out his point the feline just harumphed and folded her ears back in annoyance, resigning to just tuning out his whimpering squeaks that very distinctly DIDN'T have anything to do with begging to be released from the confines of her belly, which at least she could have gotten some vauge enjoyment out of in that predatory way. But when she finally heard some understandable words she perked up, regarding her belly and trying to suss out what he was trying to communicate even as she picked up on the words. Was he just repeating that he was kitty food again? But after putting the string of squeakspeech together in a way that was actually coherent in her heard her brow raised up and she sat up straight. Considering the wealth of interactions she'd had with the squirrel up to this point being pretty simplistic and on the specific topic of how he didn't much enjoy the current status of his new life as food very much no ma'am, this new admission was something of a revelation! It wasn't quite what she wanted to hear, it was apparent he still was not much of a fan of that simple assessment of comparative facts, but it was enough of an effort to sympathize with her perspective. She might have felt bad on SOME level of basic decency for having to have eaten him, but she did HAVE to eat him, just like squirrels HAD to eat nuts! So therefore she SHOULDN'T feel bad about it! Perahps that was her reading too much into the little extrapolation and was far from the conclusion he wanted to lead her too, but she would take what she could get. "Heeheh, yeah... but you're not a nut. Even if NUT-meg IS your name." she snickered, wondering if the little guy had ever realized that little aspect of his life, cuz there was quite a lot of material there for her to exploit if she was in her more cruel state of mind. "i gotta eat, and you're WHAT I eat, but... I dunno. Starving sucks, but it doesn't make me feel any better about imagining what your cute little face looks like in there.... stewing in my tea.... Look like a drowned cat I bet." she mused with a giggle, making the inside of her gut bounce and slosh once again, jokes that she'd slap any of her canine friends for making like that always tickled her when she was hypocritically making them.

Izzy: Squeaking the little sentence out was the most difficult thing, emotionally and psychologically, that the little squirrelly had probably ever done. Squirrels being creatures of very few words to begin with, sticking like most other rodents to squeaks and chitters and other such sounds, putting together a sentence in his current state of body and mind was his crowning accomplishment to date. Not to mention the subject matter of what he had said in the first place - it felt exhausting just to squeak out little pleas for freedom from inside the terrifying confines of her belly. Begging to be let out is admitting that you are in…and that in and of itself was horrible…let alone the mental burden of a little squirrelly trying his hardest to relate not only to a kitty but the one he was currently inside of. It was a jacked up situation, to be sure. And he wasn’t even sure what her response would be to this sudden epiphany of squirrelliness; he just felt a compulsion to express it probably out of fear. She clearly wanted an answer, she wanted something from him. She had already demonstrated quite clearly that she could always to make his life a whole lot worse no matter how bad it currently seemed. Not getting her upset at him was always a priority like taking the next breath was! Who’s to say what the next second would be, what would happen next? This was just the first day of eternity as far as his life was concerned; there were too many terrible possibilities to even imagine and he certainly didn’t want to push that fact by upsetting her or even leaving her dissatisfied with him. At her confirming that he was, in fact, not a nut as he had just compared himself he let out a little *squeak =o* of surprise. For the first time, she had actually said something he had /wanted/ to hear; now THAT was new! Of course, it was followed by a mix of emotions at again being reminded that his name was literally food, something he had thought very little about before she had mentioned it. It was just another example of the differences in predator and prey thought processes - it would have never occurred to Nutmeg that his name itself was edible if she hadn’t have pointed it out. More squeaks and little squirms of squirrelliness served as the rodent’s response to her little joke at his…her expense? Needless to say, Nutmeg didn’t quite get the references (other than perhaps its literal interpretation) but her giggle afterwards, sending his world all a-slosh once again, hammered home that it was a statement worthy of such a prey-like response. For a moment, he though “can she SEE me right now? D=“. He didn’t know what predators were and were not capable of…let alone what kind of little gadgets or technology they could employ. His little head movements from side to side rubbed up against the part of her belly by his head, not currently submerged under tea as he chittered slightly, the word “belly” and “cat” mixed in with the indiscernible (to anyone other than a fellow squirrelly) noises.

Random: The feline sighed after she finished her little giggle, hmming to herself as she rubbed her gut feeling the squirrel moving against the inner walls. Perhaps it was even crueler trying to find some connection with the rodent, since she knew she was only going to degenerate into mean spirited predatory torment again eventually, and she doubted the squirrels ability to mentally seperate the two. Maybe it would be kinder to just let him think of her as that mean kitty who stole his life away and made a meal of him, the object of his nightmares in his waking world, without complication. Evil hungry predator, simple, like everything else in his life was or at least had been before she ate him. But that wouldn't help HER feel any better, so there wasn't much advantige to it. She was in better spirits now, so the sound of his unintelligable squeaks just made her smirk and drum her fingers a bit harsher then usual over the dome of her gurgling gut. "Hmm, wish I could understand you, little guy. I really like talking with you~" she bit her tongue before she could get out the 'it feels so satisfying hearing you talk from inside me like that' at the end of that sentence. "What's it like in there anyway? I imagine you're not enjoying it very much, but I'm still curious! Aside from all the tea of course." she added with a snicker, giving the belly a small slosh so he wasn't dunked, more for emphasis as if to remind him of the fluids existence as if he could forget, though by then he might notice the pool of drink didn't fill quite as much of the stomach as it did before though his furry form was just as soggy and weighed down by all the fluid that had soaked into him.

Izzy: He knew exactly what he was looking for, even though to actually see it would be so frightening he would wish he hadn’t looked in the first place. Cat’s eyes are characteristically reflective in the dark, even a mole could probably see them if they squinted enough. For a few brief moments of panic, he  looked here and there in the darkness searching for any glimpses of yellow refraction before the feeling subsided and he told himself (maybe he didn’t even believe it, but he told himself at least) that she had just been using a figure of speech (not that he knew what that phrase meant) and that she could not literally see into her own belly, at his curled up little form. Again, as in the coffee shop, his timid squirrelly nature was loathe to admit that he did at least appreciate the fact that nobody could see him in his current state. Squirrels didn’t want anyone looking at them when they were out scampering about either, but there was an embarrassment and shame that came with being so on display as a lump in a predator’s belly. It showed the world that you had lost, so it was nice to at least be hidden (directly, at least) from the prying eyes of anyone wishing to get their little confirmation of their superiority as a pred. The thought that she could see him in his current state…it sent chills up his little spine. He let out another *chitter* at her question. He almost felt bashfully complimented by her remark that she liked talking to him…before his psyche mentally slapped his wrist for feeling that way about ANYTHING EVER given his current situation. Her question tugged at him, though, to provide a response…again, for fear of her not being pleased with his silence…or perhaps even interpreting it as something not very good. As difficult as it was (and it WAS difficult), he forced himself to at least try to answer. His attempts were bookended with many squeaks and little squirrelly noises.

“…i-it’s…tight…*squeak*!…and s-squishy, and…d-dark please let me out…”

He couldn’t help but add that little plea at the end, the process of describing it not only a challenge in and of itself but it was like he was reminding himself of exactly why it was so terrible to be utterly trapped inside of her with no way out…he started squirming and pushing out at the stomach walls holding him tight again, pushing his little energy reserve further down that much faster.

Random: She was genuenly curious about what the rodents answer would be, she didn't know what it was like inside bellies herself, aside from the academic sense of what they learned in biology class at school, but she lacked that hands on experience and the squirrelly perspective on it interested her quite a bit. If only due to stereotypical curiosity. A grin tugged at the corner of her lip at his answer, pretty baseline descriptions but the way he said them none the less send a bit of a shiver up her spine, and the quick squeaky plea at the end made her giggle with that final jolt of predatory euphoria hitting her brain. It wasnt helped by the way he started struggling once he was done as if trying to demonstrate how much he wanted to be let out, the feline flashing her fangs and pushing down on her gut to smother the space avalible in the belly even further. The tea left over in the tummy rose to almost encompass over his head from the pressure difference of her squeezing down on her gut and made squirming all the more laborious and difficult and irresistable at the same time, but thankfully the compaction didn't last very long and her ears folded back in remorse at the action. "Tch, damn Nutmeg, warn a girl before you're gonna do that. I'm spent for the day. I'll have plenty of energy to be a bitchy pred tormenting the poor widdle squirrelly struggling in my belly tomorrow, okay?" The tone of her voice made it clear that she was talking in jest, but she doubted the squirrel would get the specifics of her mockery which made the words sour a bit in her mouth after she spoke them. The poor squirrel didn't find any levity about being in her belly, her trying to make light of his instinctual urge to struggle hoplessly against his fate as food and the actions of her belly digesting him probably wouldn't have improved things. She half frowned and looked off to the side, as if averting her gaze from her belly sillyly enough, remember that it was only the first day of the rest of his life as her meal, perhaps eventually he'd get used to it and one day years from now no doubt they'd both be able to tease about it all, the hypothetical of him cracking a joke about how fat she was because of him in that little muffled squeaky voice he just spoke to her with sounding almost natural in her mind and making her snicker. Her predator mind, which couldn't possibly relate, which concluded quite selfish that of course he'd eventually get used to being her food and maybe even come to enjoy it! But for right then and there his life had just ended a few mere hours ago, and she had at least enough awareness to realize at that very moment she was probably expecting too much too soon from the squirrel, and she'd just have to deal with her cognative dissonence for a while. "Heh, I'm sorry Nutmeg. You probably don't think that's very funny... Seriously though, I am kinda Spent right now, please don't wiggle around TOO much anymore? It's just gonna make me feel too... good, to be able to resist being kinda a bitch, you know?" she explained with a half hearted smile, then cocking her brow, "DO you know? Probably not... man, I'm talking to my fucking food." the last part spewed in exasperation at herself, laying back out on the couch to try and brush off her little bout of self contradictory scattershot thought processing and just go back to trying to enjoy the feeling of being full of another living critter with hopes and dreams and aspirations who had a whole little life and thoughts and feelings of his own before she snuffed them out and gobbled him up like the food little predator that she was supposed to be.

Izzy: The little squirrelly pushed and wiggled against the tight belly walls on autopilot, that overwhelming feeling to “scamper, run, quick, hurry, squirm, wiggle, try to get out!” fading back in full force for a few moments. And this only became more so as the belly around him began to grow tighter and more compact, squishing the little squirrelly (and his tea companion) more and more firmly as she pressed down on her stomach, not that he knew that was the exact cause of it. All he knew was that it was bad news and all his brain knew was that it was simply further confirmation that he must fight harder to get out. It didn’t last long, although when it was happening it felt like it was never going to end, leaving Nutmeg once again in a strange sort of recovery mode. Things were back to how they had been before, but that was still really bad. So…yay? Was he supposed to be happy about that? Things were terrible and now they’re just awful. You were in a kitty belly that was getting tighter and tighter until you would soon be unable to move entirely, and then boom now you’re back to just being in a kitty belly along with her cupful of tea that she drank mere moments after eating you! =D
…y-yay? And her words did little to help the poor little fuzzy recover - she would be what to what when?! Tomorrow? Was it still the same day he’d been eaten? Was the previous impossibly long passage of time an entire night spent in her belly? As much of a nightmare it was when she was awake and lucid and perfectly able and willing to toy with him, he had a lofty sort of fear of when she decided it was time to sleep… Certainly, he would not be able to actually SLEEP in here? Right? Even though his marathon of movement and desperate squirming had taken its toll on his energy and he never felt more drained that he did right now, he could never in a million years imagine himself actually falling asleep in a cat’s belly. Would he be awake all night…how long did predators sleep? Prey had to get up every now and then to check to see that they were safe…but predators could sleep the whole night through. Sitting in (relative) silence for 8 hours inside of a cat’s belly while she slept you off as a meal…he could not tell if it was preferable to her belly-squeezing evil kitteh time antics. Her voice (if you could still call it a “voice”; it was more like the “voice” of god…in a way, she /was/ his god[dess]) was a weird combination of terrifying things, but something about her words intrigued him. Even when he didn’t understand her, which was almost all of the time, to have a pred actually speak to him like that was something he had never experienced. To have a pred ask him a question…like there’s something he knows that they don’t…it was strange. Though, as always, her words were topped off with a little disclaimer that he was still food that always prevented him from the squirrelly touch the monolith moment of feeling like an actual person. Unable to help himself, he gave another round of little squirrelly squirms, reacting both to her words and the confusing emotions they made him feel. It was as if he were trying to push away both her belly walls and the cloud in his mind, though his energy had obviously greatly depleted.

Random: The feline purred at the squirrelly struggles against her relentless inner walls, idly wondering if he'd ever catch on that the attempts to struggle were only making the situation worse for him since the stimulation to her interior muscles brought her pleasure and did absolutely nothing to accomidate any kind of escape. Maybe in a few months. Maybe a few years. He had all the time in the world to get used to his new life as kitty food, and all manner of potential new room mates like the tea he still sloshed in since simply because she was full and nourished now didn't mean she was forevermore free of thirst. Hell, if she was ever in the mind for it, some occasional snackfood would be worth crowding the belly as well, after all whilst prey ate for survival and out of stress predators being the more civilized sort had such excess that they could ponderously snack even when they weren't hungry! Would no doubt be an interesting experience for the poor squirrel, but that was for tomorrows ponderings. Right then and there the feline was content to simply relax and ride out the rest of her fumes from a day of pure predatory fulfillment until evening came around. A cruel smirk crossed her lips at the thought of how the rodent was able to tell how much time had passed since he was eaten. Not like prey had wristwatches. Suddenly compelled, she yawned and rubbed over her tummy to get the squirrels attention, compelling him to cease his squirms and listen before she spoke.
"It's only been four hours since I ate you, by the way.... Enough time to prep for how the rest of your livelong life is gonna be like?" She snickered and replayed the day in her head. It'd taken her about an hour to get from her home to the preyslums and find the squirrelly, an hour back, and she spent quite some time at the cafe after getting home, and after she finished her tea she'd been lazing around for quite a while! It wasn't even sunset yet. It certainly felt longer, and her metabolism was such that most of her energy was being dedicated to her digestive system especually now that she was down from her high, and another smaller yawn squeaked out as she turned over and reached for the remote to her TV. "Man, I could go for a catnap to be honest, but I don't wanna throw off my schedule. Hmm, do you even know what an hour is? My mommy would always tell us 'it's two episodes of your favorite tv show' especually when we went on road trips... But probably not a lot of TVs in those shitty condemned buildings you guys live in, huh?"

Izzy: Nutmeg had never been more tired yet so completely wide awake at the same time. Of course, biology being what it is, the squirrelly’s body would eventually shut down and need to rest no questions asked, but at this moment it felt like it would never happen. His body was telling him that this was his final stand (even though that moment had obviously passed by this point) - he needed to keep wiggling and pushing out at his containment until his very last morsel of energy was depleted. He had never been in a belly before (again, …yay?) and he didn’t even know what was going to happen in the next few seconds, let alone what he could potentially WAKE UP to after 5 or 6 or 7 hours lying motionless inside her, assuming he could ever get into a position “comfortable” and static enough for sleeping. She hadn’t even responded to his little plea for freedom this time. Well, I mean…she had /responded/ but…she hadn’t even humored him. Him begging to be let out had already become something of an expected formality…and it had only been…
Her gentle rub got his attention as anticipated, pulling him somewhat out of his pheromone driven squirrelly fidgeting. …4 hours?? It had only been 4 hours? That could not be true. Was she lying? Surely, it had been at least a full day maybe even two already! 4 hours?! Rodents like nutmeg would spend 4 hours hiding just because they accidentally dropped an acorn on the wooden floor and it made a little “ptt” noises, fearful that something may have heard it and would rush up to the little squeaky’s den. 4 hours in the snug darkness of a “safe” hiding spot was absolutely nothing to a squirrelly like Nutmeg…4 hours in the dark tightness a cat’s belly? A week could have gone by and he wouldn’t have been surprised. He had practically all but forgotten aspects of his life as prey already! He had spent most of his life in his little “nest” and knew every inch of it by heart (you needed to know these things to be able to tell when something was different/off and therefore something to be afraid of)…and already, in the emotions that come with his new involuntarily imposed home he had trouble recalling some aspects of it. For some reason, in light of the mental image of his nearly-forgotten home, he felt a compulsion to puuuush out against her belly clinging to him simultaneously with all limbs as if somehow he could pull off the cat he was inside of as if she were a fur coat he was wearing so he could scamper back to it. After a few moments, his tired widdle limbs gave out and everything squished right back against him, tight as ever. He gave a few defeated squeaks in response. His ears flicked (as best they could given the circumstance) at her mention of something Nutmeg had heard about in passing but never knew what it was. “*squeak squeak*?”, he cheeped out as if saying “TV? =o”. Needless to say, he had no idea what it was but couldn’t help but be interested in predator technology.

Random: The little pathetic push which only resulted in the belly snapping back and squeezing the squirrelly back into place made the feline purr as she flicked on the tube, waiting for it to buzz to life so she could flick through the channels. She noticed that the activity in her belly seemed to change, knowing somehow without even feeling him that the squirrel was paying keen attention. After all he was inside her, a part of her, she knew him like she knew her own tail and tits. A bemused grin tugged at her lips and she flicked the volume up a bit higher then she normally had it, curious to see if he'd be able to hear it through the walls of her belly and perhaps get some adorable reactions out of his confusion. "Ever read a book, little guy?.... probably not, ha, silly question. Like you can even read... well, I'm sure you've had a story told to you at some point? Maybe even seen folks act out the story pretending they're the people the story is about? A tv is something you watch people doing THAT on, telling stories and acting them out... or you could watch the news, if you're a boring 80 year old fart." she explained with a snicker at the end, sighing and kicking her feet up on the coffee table in front of her couch as the machine finally buzzed to life. She balanced the remote on her tum and tapped the buttons to flick through and see what was on, the position of her legs pushing up or bending on her gut to fathom it into a more pecular posisition then the rodent would be used to up until that time, any sound from the tv making it past the barriers of fur flesh and fat not doubt adding to the disorientating effect.

Izzy: The squirrelly was sufficiently distracted by what she was saying that it nearly made him forget how completely awful what was happening to his was…at least for a bit. He could read (having been taught by his mother when he was a widdle squirrelly) and loved finding any scraps of paper with writing on them to try and decipher what they meant. Of course, just because he could read doesn’t mean he had the context necessary to figure out what was written…just as being able to read English doesn’t prepare you for understanding a technical medical book about bile production in the liver. He would have fun going through all the words and trying to figure out what they meant and their context. He spent an entire week and a half once trying to figure out what the little “%” was in “50% off” as he was unfamiliar with that letter and didn’t know how to pronounce it. He never figured it out, but he would stare at that little scrap of paper he had found for a very long time, trying to understand what it meant. Actual books were hard to come by, but he had managed to find a few in his various squirrelly ways - squirrels are good at finding things, especially if they’re shiny. He still didn’t know what the word “book” meant, though, as he didn’t know what they were called. Books don’t often have the word “BOOK” on them to remind you of what they are after all. But he instantly pricked up at the mention of “story” - he knew exactly what that word meant and he knew he loved stories. People…act out stories? How does that even work? He had a little unseen and unseeable “=o” face on while trying to imagine the concept. His mind was going many miles per hour like a squirrelly on one of those little hamster wheel things going round and round. TV was an thing that allowed you to watch people acting out stories…how did all the people fit inside? He didn’t now how big it was, but surely it was a small /room/ at least if it was to house all of the people acting out the stories. The concept was pretty incredible to his literal-thinking mind, though…people pretending to be something they aren’t… Before he could ponder this any further, he gave a little *squeak* and shift of a squirm as he thought…no, he definitely did hear someone else out in the room with her! There was a new voice and he knew it wasn’t hers. Again, he sunk back a little (an impressive feat considering his location) and looked around as if he could somehow glimpse this mysterious newcomer who seemed to appear suddenly.

Random: If the feline were to be given the information about the squirrels history with books and reading her curiosity and sympathy would have been piqued enough to perhaps offer to read him something from her own library. Would even encourage her to have an excuse to actually dig into some of the books she long had in her collection but could never find the motivation to sit down and get through, and it would be a convinient way to 'apologize' after tormenting him with her typical predatory delight at his predicament in the future. But there would be plenty of time for epiphanies about one anothers backstories in the future, for now all she was interested in was melting her braincells in front of the boobtube and enjoy the feeling of rodent in her gut. The feeling of the squirrel moving about and shrinking down, as if trying to hide even when he was already in her belly, made her smirk and rub the tummy in a way that despite the circumstances managed to feel relatively comforting and assuring. Perhaps an unintentional communication of 'it's okay, you're safe, you're in my belly remember?' if such a statement COULD qualify as comforting to such a brain with as limited experience as a squirrels. The amusement in addressing the poor critter had run dry for her at the moment at least, so she didn't bother trying to explain to him any further, simply purring and lightly rubbing her tummy in a more usual possessive 'you're my meal and you feel so dang good in there' way as she watched the tv, occasionally causing some acvitity like laughing or commenting on the show before her that disturbed or shook her core but otherwise steadied out.

Izzy: The squirrelly was quite confused by what seemed to be going on out in the world he had forever been locked away from. He distinctly heard someone else’s voice out there; he was unable to make out exactly what it was saying but it definitely wasn’t his predator’s because his entire world didn’t rumble and quake wherever it spoke. Pretty soon, he was hearing another voice…and then another…and he was certain after a little while he could make out the sound of what surely was a large crowd. Now, he was just one confused little squirrelly. Exactly how many people were in her house right now?! Again, he had never seen a predator’s den (not even his own predator’s) and would now NEVER get to see one either so he wasn’t sure exactly how big it was. Were all of these people currently in her house right now? That was the obvious answer, but something about it seemed…off. Not only the logistical and practical issues, but…something about the voices was different. He had experienced what it was like to hear others in the outside world speak to his predator, and in fact their penchant for giving her a nice firm belly rub was what he had initially reacted to when he first heard these new voices he’s so unsure of! But, they didn’t sound quite the same. They sounded further away, much too muffled and overpowered by her purring and internal noises to be completely understood. And they spoke differently than the other voices he had already experienced…and she didn’t seem to be reacting to them in the same way either. Squirrelly’s brain was figuring something out but he didn’t know what. He was understanding the sort of disassociation that was necessary to do something as simple as watch TV while at the same time…/not/ understanding it. Her rubbing perfectly and wordlessly conveying her basic massage clearly (he could /feel/ that she was rubbing over her full belly in an expression of her possession of him) and she seemed content to focus on other more mind numbing things. Surely, by now, it had been 8 hours? …10? …a week and a half? Please tell me it was a week and a half, it it’s only been the 3 minutes that it could only have been, I may lose my mind. >< *squeak*
His squirrelly wiggling got the slowest it had been all day as the defeated-ness washed over him in the relative silence of the moment. As he had said before, he was cat food…and everything else about him had died the moment she swallowed him. This tight, oppressive kitty belly would be where he spent the rest of his life…

Random: The feline mewed in a bit of disappointment feeling the movements of her prey cease and he seemed to settle down, perhaps finally accepting his fate as a part of her? Not really a question she wanted to waste her mental faculties on at the moment, even if he wasn't moving he was still Prey in her Belly and it still filled her with that sense of satisfaction that went beyond even the physical fullness his presence provided. In fact the thought of him giving up entirely brought with it its own sense of sadistic glee, the prey had been so full of desperation and livelyness and still clung to that pathetically hopeless desire to escape that knowing she'd smothered it to death by literally doing nothing sent a spark up her spine as if her own biology was telling her what a good predator she was! Of course, Veronica being who she was, that realization also made her feel a little bit bad, that ceaseless determination being something she'd somewhat admired about her morsel after all. After a few more minutes she used the DVR function of her TV to pause it mid broadcast and addressed her belly, rubbing over it with a meow. "You okay in there, little guy? Hope you dont think I'm ignoring you..."

Izzy: This kitty was so confusing. It almost would have been easier to just get caught by some sort of monster under the bed terrible sadistic kitty waiting desperately for the day she had a fuzzy little rodent to take all of her pent up sadistic emotions out on. At least then, you’d know where you stood! That’s not to say Nutmeg viewed her as anything less than the terrifying and powerful kitty pred that she couldn’t help but be to the timid little squeaky, but she was…confusing. In between stereotypical kitty cat toyings with him and smooshing her belly down on him to make his desperate squirming for freedom inside f her feel even better, she would say something to him or ask him something in a tone that suggested they were just sitting around on the couch together enjoying spot of… >< Ugh, don’t say “tea”… Please don’t say “tea”.
Suddenly, the mysterious voices ceased and the squirrelly made another mental lurch towards understanding a concept that the squirrelly had never thought of before. Surely, everyone didn’t stop talking all at once like that…it had intention to it, like it had been done by one person for a specific reason…poor confused little fuzzy! But her question confused him further…ignoring him? Out of all the things he was currently worried and scared about, that was not exactly one of them or at least he wouldn’t have worded it that way exactly. The conflicting emotions caused him to squirm a little harder for a moment; that just seemed to be his reaction to most things now. It was the only way he could communicate, short of the words he had the hardest time producing. If his mind weren’t coasting on whatever energy was left after a day of running and panicking and squirming and struggling, he would be giving her quite the internal massage at the moment, but… He squeaked a few more times in response, unable to form real words.

Random: The feline snorted a bit at the little bout of wiggling, but it was becoming somewhat clear to her and her tummy that the squirrel was more or less tuckered out. To confirm she set the remote aside for a moment and pushed down on her belly, scrunching the inner chamber down into a tight organic ball and smothering the poor rodent in a compressing bear hug from every single angle and nearly submerging him under the puddle of tea still left filling the gut (though dramatically less by now, if it had been the same amount as when she'd walked out of the cafe when doing so he'd have been completely dunked under by the treatment). The wiggles and squirms of sheer preyish panic still sent sparks of pleasure up her spine, though being over the peak herself it made her bite her tongue and tremble from overstimulation, but even through that filter it was a good demonstration that the rodent just didn't have it in him to really struggle for his life like he could a few hours ago when she's just scarfed him down. After half a minute she released the pressure, hiccuping from the difference when her gut bounced back into place the tea inside splashing from the movement before everything settled back into proper position, Veronica purring to sooth while she gently rubbed over the prey filled middle. "Mmmm, yeah, I think play time is over until tomorrow, huh Nutmeg? I'm ready to just relaaax the rest of this day away..." she sighed and leaned back as she said, casually tipping over to flick the tv back on with her tail and lazily enjoying it, the sensation of the squirrel filling her still triggering that sensation of Completeness in her brain that would never truely evaporate and always leave her tingling on a bit of a pred buzz, but the bellygasm tank had been drained for sure. "Just try to relax in there, I promise that was the last bit of bitchness I had in me for the rest of the day." she assured while slipping out a yawn, not quite sleepy yet but more then ready to wind down after a full day that was of course the herold for what the rest of her life would be post-squirrel noms.

Izzy: Much has been said about the effects of adrenalin on the body during times of stress of ‘fight or flight’. It’s a very powerful “lizard brain” system of hormones and it’s never quite as strong as in preys that have been spotted by/are being currently chased by a predator. Well, other than having just been eaten by a predator, of course. The desperate desire to so something coupled with the utter lack of available things /to/ do makes for quite a mixture of volatile emotions which is usually the genesis for some lovely inner-pred wigglings. It is simply a part of nature that cannot be avoided; the prey has to work out all of those emotions and the predator needs to be told by nature “See? This is good; you never want to let this little prey out, right? You need to stay fed; who would want to give up something like this? You are the mighty and worthier predator and the little critters beneath you are mere snacks; you did quite the right thing to put this one in its proper place!” Biology has its limits, however, and after such a massive expulsion of energy it eventually needs to rest. And that’s exactly what the little squirrelly was experiencing as his body gradually slowed and became more sluggish and unable to produce the level of squirming that he felt appropriate for the time being (which was “fairly high”). Of course, this kitty was providing several challenges to this, considering she could be counted upon to do something that caused him to panic so much he regained some of his lost strength in order to drain it once more! His pitiful little wiggles were quite meager until he felt his squishy surroundings begin to collapse around him in an incredibly tight squeeeeeeeze from every conceivable angle. It was the tightest yet offered by his kitty containment and it certainly did a number on the poor squeaky. Squeaking and cheeping desperately as it got worse and worse, he tried his best to give one finally bout of wiggly squirms before soon he was bundled up so tight by the predator flesh surrounding him that moving was nearly impossible (save for worm-like full body waves of movement that were very difficult to pull off) and making any sort of noise was out of the question. This climax of tightness lasted for…oh, who the hell knows at this point, 18 years…before eventually the pressure (like had happened several times prior that day) slowly released to its still-not-very-much-room pre-squeeze levels. Almost completely drained after the experience, Nutmeg could only give little *cheep!*s as his struggling effort now consisted of pathetic little wiggles and kicks. He barely even heard what she was saying as it vibrated all around him; the terrible episode of belly squeezing had taken almost everything he had left out of him.

Random: Veronica still purred from the exhausted pathetic kicks from her tuckered out meal, but there were just dull throbs of pleasure that didn't quite go over the threshhold of predatory bliss and were perfect for her lazing. She'd had such a full day, the thrill of hunting and hearing the frightened scampers of prey darting into their hiding places as she stalked through their homes, finding the squirrel and getting that instant trigger of 'this belongs in my god damn belly right the hell now' like meeting her soulmate or discovering her favorite flavor of ice cream, the utter bliss of shoving the rodent into her mouth and feeling him flail and struggle with every swallow until he was tucked away where he belonged and of course that life affirming sensation of complete-ness washing through her body at fulfilling natures purpose to feed herself with the life of an inferior critter snuffing out his entire world and condemning him to being nothing but food for the rest of his existence. And now after that rush she was more then ready to just turn her brain off and coast on the purring buzz of being full yet not actively predatorily engaged with the morsel stewing away into pudge in her tummy. Maybe, the more empathetic bit of her brain thought, Nutmeg was too tired to be quite as scared as he had been and would be able to relax during this time as well! Her hands roamed down to rub over her belly, but she didn't bother trying to talk to the rodent, or even acknowledge him while she continued whiling away the hours watching TV, a gentle rythm starting to set in with her stomach simply containing Nutmeg's form rather then actively imposing itself onto him. It was still cramped and unignorably a felines belly, but aside from the occasional organic rumble and constant squeltching of the internal organs gently expanding and contracting with every breath and pulse of her heart, the squirrels world (that being the width and bredth of cat gut) could almost be considered calm.

Izzy: Nutmeg required quite a bit of time afterwards to catch his breath, as it were…well, literally as well considering the situation. It felt like the squirrelly had just scampered an entire marathon, or perhaps an acorn had been hung up on string at the front of a treadmill machine and he had spent the past 24 hours scampering in place with a “=o” expression as the acorn seemed to retreat from view at the same speed he neared it. Though neurons of panic and terror were still firing in his brain, they too were getting tired and had slowed and quieted immensely. He wasn’t sure if they would ever stop firing altogether, he highly doubted it, but they could at least quiet during times of physical and mental fatigue like these. Probably 15 minutes in the real world, maybe you could call it RWT for “Real World Time” as opposed to “BST” or “Belly Standard Time”, passed as the squirrelly regained some semblance of order after the terrifying experience. Like a difficult workout after you’d taken a break from your routine for a few days - when you’re finished, your world spins and you need to lie there and collect yourself for a bit before the universe starts making sense again. Eventually, his little head stopped spinning and he gathered what remained of his squirrelly senses…how he wished his now lucid surroundings were different than they currently were. Why couldn’t that have been the final push towards the ending of the nightmare and he’d wake up, all huffing and puffing and out of breath, in his little bed? Nope…he was still in a cat’s belly. As she lazed about out in the outside world, her body followed suit and eventually his constantly squishing and squeezing surroundings seemed to relax a bit as well, offering him what qualified as time to think. His tiredness and the general “calmness” of the kitty belly he was now inside of/a part of made it possible for him to think at least a little clearly for the first time since being devoured. “…so this is going to be the rest of my life, huh?” He looked around a bit with movements so weak and widdle, it was possible (though not probable given a predator belly’s sensitivity) that she didn’t even feel them at all. “…this will be the rest of my life as cat food…”

Random: The felines eyes drifted closed, falling into a bit of a cat nap felines were famous for where they could get in some REM time without really being properly unconcious and could hop to and start batting around balls of yarn within a moments notice. Her ears flicked, not sure if she could actually hear anything the squirrel might have been saying or was just picking up more unintelligable chitters but the sounds got him a small rub in return regardless, a pleasent sigh escaping her that of course echoed through down to her belly as if to answer him in the affirmative and moreover the cat was quite happy with her food as a matter of fact! No matter how miserable said food was. After a good half an hour she blinked and stretched out, yawning and straining with her stomach shuddering around Nutmeg from the typical feline action before she collapsed again, laying out lengthwise on the bed and slightly curling up with her hands over her middle and knees pulled up in front of them as if to hold it close. She still lazed, still watching TV, still not really paying mind to Nutmeg, but her body language seemed to be based entirely around the rodent in her core now, perhaps it not being unreasonable to point out her life now revolved around him just as much as his life was now consumed by her. Both figeratively and literally. The time passed in much the same manner, Veronica adjusting and changing positions while the TV buzzed in front of her, never quite removing at least one hand from her tummy not quite pressing down on the gut as much as maintaining contact with it, until before she realized it the sun had long since set. "Ohhh wow, ha, did I really waste like five hours just watching TV?... damn." She rolled off the couch awkwardly and stood, straining and smacking her lips before looking down at her tummy with a mock stern look of disapproval. "Nutmeeeg, haven't even had you in there a whole day yet and you're making me feel like a lazy fat couch potato... heheh~" her giggle fluttering through the room as she padded to her bathroom to clean up for bed.

Izzy: As the kitty did what kitties tend to do, that being lie around all day and not do much and take naps constantly (it’s not racist, it’s just true - those PSAs were wrong, cats DO that all the time, it’s just fact, get over it mister president of the Kitty Association) the squirrel’s body was begging in a weird way to follow suit. Even in his exhausted state, it still felt like he would /never/ be able to actually SLEEP in his new home. It just felt like an impossibility, no matter how tired he got. However, the nagging that he was out of energy and the urge to allow one’s eyelids to droop closed tugged at his proverbial pants leg. And, a great deal of time later, constantly being edged to the very rim of sleep before being brought back by a shake of the head and a determination to not fall asleep INSIDE of a cat, eventually he entered what could academically be called “sleep”. It was a strange version of sleep to be sure, teetering on the border between lucid wakefulness and rapid eye movement. Any slight motion or sound or what have you would have woken him up instantly (in a manner very similar to the feline he was inside of strangely enough) but for a little while, he “slept”. Again, who’s to say what the long lineup of weeks and months and years of being cat food he still had to look forward to would bring, but for right now…on the first day of being kitty food…this was “sleep”. Every time she adjusted or switched positions, he would awake with a start and give a little squirm as he moved around slightly, trying to figure out where he was and what was going on. He would give a little squeak when he realized where he was…/still/ was…and then would over time drift back into sleep. Finally, though, there was the biggest movement of all as she spoke and rolled herself up off her cat nap spot at the same time, instantly shaking Nutmeg into consciousness again. He focused just in time to hear yet another thing he at first had trouble believing. Not even a full day…after all he had been through, it had STILL not even been a full day of being inside her. In his foggy state of mind, he could only *cheep* and give a little kick as she teased him about his status as kitty pudge. No matter how hard he tired, he could not bring himself to imagine what an entire day /would/ feel like…what an entire week would feel like…all of the horrible things and thoughts and realizations he still had ahead of him… His body told him to squirm a little, but all he could produce were tiny wiggles…it was obvious from this, though, that sleep was indeed the cure for his current wiggle deficiencies. A full night of even his current paltry version of “sleep” would surely work wonders on his energy levels…and in his state of mind, he didn’t even see why that was a bad thing.

Random: The feline let her tongue poke out with a pleasent meow at the more virgerous wiggles the squirrel offered after the hours spent lazing away, patting her tummy and smiling at it before slipping out of her clothes and stretching the most she had ever done so far, practically bending at a 70 degree angle while bracing against her sink for leverage and causing her belly to squish and strain is quite the pecular fashion before she finally shuddered back into position with a shaking whine. "God damn, nothing feels better..." she trailed off after the statement while her tail flicked around to poke at her tummy, "almost nothing~" she ammended with a giggle. "Mmmm, don't think anyone would blame me for taking it easy after getting my meal in though. It does take a little while to adjust. At first the feeling of having one of you suckers packed away is just so full body it's tough to pace yourself. Like how baby snakes pump all their venom out on the first bite? Eventually I'll be able to stretch out that predgasmic feeling throughout the day without going comatose after one huge burst like that, heh." She wasn't sure how much of what she said Nutmeg would pick up on or understand, but she was saying it aloud more for herself then his sake, checking herself and making a few funny faces in the mirrior before reaching for her toothbrush only to pause. A moment of conflict rose at the back of her throat - she could still taste rodent on her breath and on her tongue, inbetween her teeth where tiny scraps of fur got pulled from his body on his way down, the mingle of the flavor while she had her tea (which consiquently was completely gone by that point, Nutmeg was her bellies sole occupent) would brushing now wash away that leftover sensation? She smacked her lips for a moment and hrmmed, flicking her eyes back and forth as if to confirm she still lived alone and away from judgemental eyes. Who would know, right! She could give herself the night to enjoy that remnent of flavor and just brush in the morning. With a resolute nod and only a tiny hint of shame she turned from the sink and started up the shower instead.

Izzy: The squirrelly fought to even make his little chitter noises as she proceeded to act out her hardwired bedtime routine; it had been established long before Nutmeg had become a part of her and would still continue as if nothing had ever happened. Much like how the rest of the world would continue functioning with one fewer squirrelly on the outside of a predator’s belly, his pred’s normal mundane routines would continue with him inside her. There was an awful lot of jostling that Nutmeg couldn’t figure the reason for not that he tried. Even the mundane habits of preds were outside of his widdle grasp; no doubt their bedtime routines would have been very different were they to compare notes. She was not shoving herself into the smallest, darkest place available in her house to hide out the darkness that came with nightfall for one. Suddenly, though, the tumblings and jostling transformed into yet another tight squeeze as everything around him seemed to compress with her kitty-like stretch. Of course, he didn’t know that was what was causing it but he /did/ know that for a brief few seconds not just her belly just everything surrounding her belly compressed him into a space nearly as tight as she had intentionally squeezed him into the previous d…oh my god that’s right, it was just a few hours ago not days… This time, though, he had very little energy to offer much in the way of panicked little squirms even when the pressure finally let up. He didn’t really understand most of what she was saying, though it was fairly terrifying none the less. I mean, she could begin reading the instruction manual to her microwave and it would STILL be fairly terrifying to the poor little squirrelly. Having that voice quake around him made anything scary…it would always be the voice of his predator… He just continued his little chitters and squeaks, able to muster up a little wiggle here and there as an unintentional treat for her senses but otherwise, he was still plenty drained.

Random: A pleasent purr glowed through her system at the desperate but hopeless little wiggles of the poor worn out squirrelly, letting herself focus on the sensation of him occupying space in her body while she waited for the water from the shower to reach a reasonable temp. Once more her hand rested over the squirrel sized lump in her torso, letting out a sympathetic 'aww' as she rubbed it feeling him through the pudge. "Poor Nutmeg. You must be tired too. Such an eventful day, the most important one in your little squirrelly life! The day you became kitty food." she grinned at her own devious tone, but she was too tired to keep it up and a tiny squeeze that might have been an attempt at a bellyhug pulse around the rodent for a no doubt terrifying moment. "Bet you need sleep more then I do. CAN you even sleep, in there? I can't imagine it's comfortable so must be pretty hard... hmm, if I could I'd probably think about taking in some air again to let you have your wiggle room, but no way I'mma be able to keep it in while I'M sleeping too, so just try and deal with it." She finally felt the water at a pleasent enough temperature and stepped in, sighing at the feeling of the liquid raining down on her aches and joints after the days events, soaking under and letting it wash over her while the muffled thuds of the water jetting down echoed and rumbled through her belly.

Izzy: He could very easily feel/tell when she had a hand (or two) draped over her belly. He didn’t know how exactly; I mean, when she wasn’t actively pushing on her stomach it seemed an impossible thing to be able to feel what with all of the other movements and motions that her insides had to offer. Occasionally, he tummy would just give him a squeeze itself for some quirk of biology or another. But, he could tell - it was as if light were shining through her stomach (he wished) and her hand over her tummy blocked some out and made a shadow. That’s how it felt, anyway and he could definitely tell without doubt that she was doing it right now as a strange hissing noise filtered through to his squirrelly ears. It was hard to pick up, or more specifically it was hard to tell if it really was coming from the outside world or it was something else in her body making that noise. That was something he realized long ago and it still felt creepy - he could sometimes hear/feel noises that her body made that he had the probably very correct idea that she couldn’t even hear herself! He had front row seats to the inside of her body; in a way, he knew it better than she did. He let out a few pitiful squeaks at her words, not helped by the fact that she was pretty much reciting exactly what was going through his head at the moment. He gave a few more kicks as best he could, the feeling that she could read his mind…that he was becoming a part of her more so than he even thought possible…he shook his he’d a little. Thankfully(?), an even stranger thing interrupted that thought. A very bizarre noise and sensation suddenly descended upon the entire belly (indeed, her entire body) out of seemingly nowhere. Very strange sounds (thud, pit, pat, pitter, patter) pummeled the squirrelly from one side of his prison, stopping him in his tracks. If he didn’t know any better, it sounded/seemed sort of like…rain. But that didn’t make any sense - were they outside? “They” - not was SHE outside, but he was already thinking “they”. He shook his head again. With an inquisitive *squeak*, he pushed out slightly against the side the sound was coming from. Because the weird thing was, it wasn’t just a sound…there was a physical presence to it. He was quite the confused squeaky.

Random: The feeling of the squirrels curious pressing against the outer wall of her belly (it now very well and clear to tell which way he was facing was 'out' relative to the exterior surface of her stomach now) the sensation of contact and stretching the sensitive inner walls as he tried to assertain what the sensation of the shower was from inside her adding that pleasent little extra bit of satisfaction along with the relaxing flow of the bathing by itself. A light flush crossed her cheeks at the thought that this was how the rest of her life was going to go, every wonderful feeling thing she ever did from now one would feel even BETTER then it had before because now she was doing it while also having a squirrel in her belly adding his own special brand of preyish delight to the festivities, and not only that but even drab monotonous moments would have that extra lacing and perhaps times she felt sad or something shitty happened there'd at least be that little nugget of 'well at least I got Nutmeg churning away in my belly!' to make it more bearable! The entire rest of her life from this moment on was going to benefit from the noticable improvement of being Full. She shivered a bit in excitement at the thoughts, unable to keep from pressing down on her belly not quite as much as before but enough for it to perhaps feel like she was punishing his inquisitive internal pushing for lack of knowing what really motivated the gluttinous embrace of glee. The shudder went down her spine and spasmed through her tail like a lightning rod causing her to flick water against the tile walls, sighing wistfullly as she folded back to reality and went about her hygene routine. The sound and feeling of the shower water drumming against her body changed depending on how she turned or twisted to clean at herself or reach for a bottle of shampoo, making it evident that the 'rain' was hitting her from one specific angle and wasn't coming down in an blanketing drizzle like real rain. In the moments where she turned away from the shower with the water running over her back, making the sound of the pelting liquids reverbate through her insides but not actually 'touching' the stomach walls where Nutmeg was curled up would not doubt feel particularly surreal. Once her whole body was lathered up in suds she got the stray thought of what the rodent would even think if he saw her like that, giggling as she dunked back under the torrent and let it wash away.

Izzy: The difference between a civilized predator showering and the lowly little squirrelly spending hours and hours grooming his fuzz with little *licklicklick*s (one might call a characteristically feline motion) and taking little dips in nearby waterways and puddles would have been a striking mental image…if the squirrelly weren’t the only one around to contemplate it…and if he weren’t completely enclosed forever in all encompassing darkness. As if in response to his inquisitive little pushings to try and ascertain the meaning and origin of this sudden unknown noise and sensation, the belly pushed back and for a brief moment Nutmeg let out a frightened little *squeak!* and gave a few good wiggles as he was certain he was in for another good belly squeezing. Whether a natural reaction from her belly or an intentional retort from the kitty herself, he quickly forgot about assigning blame as he panicked. It faded, though, without giving him the snake-coil hug that he was so worried about receiving yet again. The word “relieved” fell a bit flat given his situation but for lack of a better word, he felt immensely relieved when the squeeeeze never came. Little “I’m sorry I’m sorry please don’t squish down on your belly again” squeaks and chitters flooded from the squirrelly for a moment, the rodent now content to simply remain curled up inside her stomach with just the occasional wiggle. The confusion never abated, however, as this rain seemed to possess magical powers. It became obvious very quickly that it was not in fact rain at all but he wasn’t sure what else to call it. It would move in waves over her whole body; he could still hear it when it was hitting some other part of her body. His head followed it, or at least tried to, as his sensitive little squirrelly ears tried their hardest to pick up the sound through all the layers of flesh and fur and fat and kitty. For a while, the sound was complimented by her hands (at least that’s what it felt like) rubbing up and down along her belly. He couldn’t see the layer of suds left behind, all he could feel was the rubbing that though somewhat different from the possessive or pleasurable strokings he had felt since getting eaten, there was no doubt she still enjoyed it. It was like being in one of those drive through automatic carwashes; only instead of a car, he was inside of a cat! He couldn’t help the confused little squeaks from coming now, even though he was still afraid he would do something she wouldn’t like and get another belly squeeze in retribution.

Random: Finally she was free of the suds and her fur felt pure and refreshed after the root deep scrubbings, a final sigh complimenting the ceasation of the mystery rain with nothing but the sound of water dripping from her soaked form filling the bathroom along with the distant rumbling of the pipework hidden beyond the walling. For a bit she just stood and purred in the post shower freshness and felt the droplets of liquid glide down along the follicles of fur before draining down her body and to the drain, finally shaking herself wild like you'd expect from a canine after getting wet more then from a cat and no doubt causing quite a commotion and jumble in her belly from the quick repetative motions. After only a few seconds she stopped and giggled at the way her fur looked afterwards, stepping out of the shower and collecting a towel around herself, stepping out of the bathroom and cooing at the release of steam into the room, going back to lounge on her couch while she dried after a thorough rub down to make sure she wouldn't make any huge wetspots when she sat.

Izzy: After a final climax of what he could only still assume was water pouring over the entirety of her body for a few moments, suddenly it all stopped and the squirrelly was left even more confused than before. Was this kitty some sort of magician? Was she in fact AquaKitty™ and able to command water to do her bidding? The little squeaky couldn’t make heads or tail fluff of it. Again, though, he didn’t have much time to ponder it before his entire world was sent tumbling and shaking all over the place. He let out a little squeak as slipped around inside of her tummy, giving little thumps to the interior as he reached his paws out several times from the instinct to grab something to stabilize himself. Left to try and reorganize in the wake of the larger than usual bellyquake, he again had to quickly figure out which way was up and which was down. At this point, with all of the confusion and goings on, he had completely forgotten about the tea that used to be his bellymate. It was indeed completely gone at this point, thank goodness because otherwise he would gone under several times by now. He didn’t even pay it mind - there were too many strange and terrifying things happening. There was some more less-emotional rubbing across the exterior of her tummy, which he then of course used to reorient himself in the proper direction and such. Soon, everything settled down again and the squirrelly was left quite befuddled by what had just happened. All he could offer were his usual little squeaks and tiny wiggles; even the minutia of predator life beyond reach of the little fuzzy. 

Random: The feline perked and looked down at her belly at hearing the tiny confused little cheeps and wiggles of her resident, giggling and poking at it through the towel. It was amazing how the knowledge that there was a squirrel in her belly tended to get pushed into the back of her mind when she was predisposed with other activities; while she never really FORGOT about it, feeling him moving around inside her after doing something she didn't even think about reminded her 'oh yeah, squirrelly!' and she couldn't help but purr at the thought. She was long since wound down though, and she was just waiting to dry before crawling into bed, so Nutmeg was spared from another guthug and instead of any typical predatory teasing she just slipped out a couple mews and meows as the moisture clinging to her fur slowly evaporated over the span of about another hour of just laying there doing nothing but be totally entranced by the joy of being Full.

Izzy: Through the entire time he’d spent being food so far, the one thing that he tried very hard to not allow into his mind was the mental image of what he must look like from the outside. Aside from his earlier slip, he had been successful at keeping this thought at bay. But now, for some reason, it popped into his head and wouldn’t leave. The image of his predator (he remembered exactly what she looked like, would probably never forget no matter how much time he spent tucked away from the outside world) standing there with a smirk and a slight bulge to her belly. For him, no matter how cramped his containment got, he couldn’t help but feel that he must be bulging out her belly quite a bit from his entire body being inside. But realistically…he was just a little squirrelly. he was so much smaller than her to begin with…he probably made a much smaller bulge than he even thought. Compared to the cat herself, the lump in her belly must be obviously noticeable but so small and insignificant…not only his entire body but his entire /life/, summarized in one small bulge in the kitty’s belly. No doubt, if he were less tired he would be giving quite a lot of squirmy squeaks and belly activity. For now though, he just cheeped and wiggled like usual as she vegged out on the couch.

Random: After a while she was finally dry enough to be ready for bed, groaning as she nefted off the couch and let the towel fall away from her body, slinking groggily towards her bedroom as fatigue and anticipation for sleep finally weighed down on her. One last jostle went through her gut as she plopped onto the mattress, sighing and purring while she curled up and snuggled herself under the covers, getting all nice and comfortable before laying still. She was ready to slowly, naturally, let sleep blanket over her and end the day, smiling tiredly and brushing over her tummy with a bit of attention grabbing pressure to make sure the squirrel was listening. "Oookay, I'm sleepy cat now... gonna go to sleep. Heh, hope I don't roll around or anything too much in my sleep, I want you to try and get your rest too, okay Nutmeg? Mmm, tomorrow is the first real day of the rest of your life... a day of, from start to finish, from dawn to dusk, being nothing but kitty food." she smiled, thinking of how the squirrel might have spent his morning today, and now he was ending it the same way every single day for the rest of his life would end - slowly feeling the predator he was inside of drift off to sleep. The last curious little thought that drifted through her head was wondering how the activity of her belly would change while she was asleep, the natural rythm of her breathing being different and if that would make the organic hold of her stomach change as well, and what little Nutmeg would do in there for eight or so uninterrupted hours of it if he couldn't sleep himself, before she finally passed out.

Izzy: By the time she finally hefted herself up and padded off to the bedroom, Nutmeg was quite thankful to have been brought out of his train of thought by the slight jostling and activity. He couldn’t imagine what was going to happen next; she could be going to bed or she could be starting some other strange predator ritual with sounds and pushings completely unfamiliar to him. Finally, though, there was a gentle thud and shuffling as she snuggled up into bed and got comfy. Oh, if only the squirrelly could experience the kitty’s bed on the outside! Surely, it would be ultimate luxury for the poor rodent used to making the best of the tattered materials available. In a weird vicarious way he /was/ experiencing it…in the same vicarious way he would experience everything from now on. He cheeped at the little attention-getting motions over her slightly swollen belly, attempting to look up in the right direction to see her out of instinct. Of course to see her, all he had to do was look in ANY direction at all. As could be expected, he had no choice but to let out a few squirrelly squeaks at her choice of words; she could always be counted on to summarize exactly why what he was going through was so terrible, just in case he forgot! Had he more energy, it might have even been a prelude to another ‘let me out’ beg but for the moment he only chittered. Her words reverberated with him and not just literally this time. She was right - this was merely the conclusion to the first afternoon/evening as cat food…as she had said earlier, he hadn’t even experienced a full day yet. He could recall with effort his trip out that very morning to scavenge an acorn or two before he had to return home empty handed. Even though it was an inevitability he’d be eaten eventually, he never figured a day starting out like that…would end like this… Sleep? She was going to sleep? He didn’t know why, but that sounded like something he really didn’t want. Squeaking and chittering, he did his best to squirm as she drifted off to sleep while thinking kitty-ish thoughts. When her breathing finally evened out and he felt, yes he could /feel/ her sleeping just like he could feel any number of other things about her biology, that’s when her body changed its pace. With her asleep, it could busy itself working the little squirrelly over which it did eagerly. For at least another two hours as she lie there asleep and unaware, the belly squished and squeezed him rhythmically as she slept him off. After the two hours, it continued to knead over him though not quite as energetically. Finally, after this last marathon of belly activity, the squirrelly had no choice but to fall into his first real bit of sleep since being devoured. Even her middle of the night tossing and turning didn’t wake him up as his squirrelly tanks refilled against his will as simultaneously, he was put to use as an energy and nutrient source for the kitty he was now inside of.

Random: With the feline asleep her metabolism really kicked into gear, energy that had been put towards regular daily activities and conciousness instead directed all their efforts down to her stomach and the rodent trapped inside of it. All the reserves that got sapped away by her walking around or even looking at whatever was in front of her were now fully dedicated to processing the squirrel into pudge, a vigerous process like a mix between a trash compactor and a taffy machine only much more organic and just as loud and squishy assaulting him from every angle. The walls kneaded in and grinded into his soft form, not the deliberate all smothering squeeze of her pushing on her gut from the outside but the natural and uneven action of digestion pushing on him from one direction while rolling wetly across his body in the other and every other which way inbetween over and over for hours and hours while she slept. After maybe six continous hours of uninterupted and routinely escelating and sluggish activity the gut seemed to settle completely, apparently having rejuvinated the felines predatory tank and then some while adding a fine extra layer of pudge to her meatier areas for good measure, and leaving the squirrel not so much happily lulled to sleep as much as passed out from sheer gluttinous smothering. While the rodents snooze was far from pleasent it was certainly deep, the feline was enjoying the best doze she'd ever had in her entire life, the stimulation of friction from her insides drumming around its meal sending sparks up her spine to explode in her brain as lovely dreams and deep mental refreshment. And this was merely the end of one day with only half of it spent enjoying the meal in her belly! The first night of the rest of her life.