It's been almost a year since your girlfriend died. Hit by a car as she crossed the street, right in front of you.  Tragic.

Her mother never let you hear the end of it. To hear her tell it, and she tells everyone who will listen, Cindy ran across the street without looking for cars because she was trying to get away from you.

She's wrong of course. Sure, you like to be in charge, like to be the one who gives the orders. Cindy liked that, though. She only had that overnight bag when she ran across the street because she was off to visit her mother.

It's been a year. You've moved on, almost forgotten Cindy. But she hasn't forgotten you.

It's Friday night and you're alone in your apartment. You hum as you consider what to order for dinner. Darla, your new girlfriend, will be here in half an hour. She likes Thai, you like Mexican. It'll be Mexican for sure.  You can talk her into it.

The smell of smoke is your warning. A strange, sulfurous odor.  There is a flicker of red-orange light from the bedroom and you grab the fire extinguisher from the kitchen counter. You are two steps from the bedroom door when a long white arm reaches out of the shadows and grabs you by the throat.

The thing that emerges from the bedroom looks like a Halloween werewolf costume that fell into a Hot Topic display. White fur with some gray and black.  Fangs, red eyes, mostly-black Goth gear including a pentagram of straps over its - her - cleavage. A huge furry tail lashes back and forth behind it, almost as big as the rest of the wolf put together. 

You drop the fire extinguisher as you try to back away. "Try" being the operative word. The werewolf, or whatever it is, is easily six and a half feet tall and all muscle. She grins as you completely fail to wriggle loose from her grip. Her free hand snaps out with unnatural speed and catches the little fire extinguisher, setting it neatly on the bookcase.

"Don't want to bother the neighbors," she growls, and pulls you close. From this distance it's clear you aren't looking at a costume. The fur is real, the claws and fangs are real. There is an animal musk to her and just a whiff of sulphur.  Past her you see the flaming portal on the wall. Flickering red light illuminates the bedroom. Through the portal...

Hell. You're looking at hell. You tear your eyes away from the burning sky, the twisted buildings, and look into the glowing red eyes of the demon.

"Cindy says hi," she growls, and her grin widens. You like the throaty contralto voice. You'd like it even more if she didn't still have you by the neck. And if it weren't for all the fangs.

"You - you're a -"

"Demon," she growls. "Hellhound. Just so you know, there's nothing personal about this.  It's business.  Cindy hired us. She doesn't like you any more now than when she was alive."

Past her shoulder you see another creature stick its head through the portal. The bright red skin, the twisted horns. If the hellhound's glowing eyes and the flaming portal weren't enough of a clue, the thing looking through the gate would let you know what's happening. A demon has come to get you.

"We're on the clock, Loona!" The second demon gestures at the portal. "Hurry it up!"

"Fuck off Moxxie," the hellhound growls. "We got paid to deliver a message." The glowing red eyes return to you.

"What - why - but I didn't -" you try to struggle free. Loona's free hand grabs both your wrists. She holds you as easily as as a strong man holds a child.  Your struggle only makes her flick her tail to retain her balance. 

"Cindy didn't like you," she growls.  "She still doesn't. So she paid us to let you know that. She paid, well..."

You don't like the look of her grin at all. "She paid for you to be dissolved in acid, actually. Now, how could we get that to happen?"

Suddenly she's yawning. The yellowed fangs part and you're staring into a purple chute of slimy gullet. Bones creak and pop as the hellhound's maw stretches unnaturally wide and her grip on your neck chokes off any attempt to call for help. You kick at her helplessly as she stuffs you in.

Fangs scrape your cheeks and scalp as you slide into her gaping maw. Her powerful hands keep you moving and the scrape is replaced by by wet flesh that slithers past your face. You feel the bulge move through her white neckfur as your whole head slips into her throat.

You wriggle, try to kick her. It doesn't stop her from engulfing your shoulders. She has you by both arms now, one clawed hand gripping each of your forearms, and with a thrust of her muzzle she has you into her maw to the elbows.

She's not that much bigger than you are. This should be impossible. Rules are different for demons, though. The hot flesh around you has a sulfurous reek and close ahead you hear the hot gurgle of the waiting stomach. She heaves her muzzle up and your hips are gone past her fangs. 

Your face squeezes through a muscular obstruction and hot folds of demonic stomach stretch to accommodate you. The brimstone stink is far worse here and it's joined by the smell of bile. The thick coating of mucus on the walls of her throat slicked you down for easy swallowing. The fluids in here aren't as benign.

You scream as hot acid stings your face and struggle for you life. Loona barely notices. She's busy heaving her muzzle up and back. She bolts you down whole  with just a few tosses of her jaws. All your kicking, all your squirming, just sees you arrive in her stomach tired. Seconds after your cheeks were scraped by her fangs her muzzle closes around your feet. She tenses, swallows, and it's all over.

You slither helplessly down her throat, still kicking. A vast bulge swells out of her middle as her taut midsection distends around a man only six inches shorter than she is. Every curve of your curled-up body bulges out through her fur and you feel the waistband of her shorts dig in. Even from inside you feel the flick of her huge wolf tail as she balances herself against the weight of her new belly. 

Ten seconds ago you were staring at the hellhound's face. Now a dim pink glow illuminates the slimy folds of stomach stretched over you. Sloshing bile fills every fold and the only air is what she swallowed with you. You have only a few breaths left and then it'll be all over.

As you squirm and kick, trying to the last to get her to throw you back up - it doesn't work, the demon barely seems to notice - you hear a new sound. Through muscle and fur you hear a voice and this time you feel Loona move from the inside. She twists, shoots out a long arm. There is a brief, startled cry that you hear at first through her stretched belly and then through the hellhound's throat. 

A struggling something presses against Loona's swollen belly and you feel the hellhound lurch, grabbing whatever it is more tightly. She leans forward and you realize why you heard the panicked cry so clearly. The sound made its way down her gullet because someone's face is in her mouth.

You heard the creak and pop as her jaws stretched wide to swallow you, the groan as her body expanded around a meal almost as large as herself. Now you hear it from the inside as she swallows. The entry sphincter expands and in the dim hellish light of Loona's stomach you stare at Darla's face.

Darla got home early. More's the pity. The hellhound swallows and your girlfriend comes slithering in to join you clothes, purse, carryout bag of Thai food and all. Darla's a foot shorter than you are and Loona swallows her with three great heaves of her muzzle. It takes just that and one heavy gulp and you're pressed against your girlfriend, mutually wrapped in the hot folds of a hellhound's stomach.
 
"Barry? What, what just - "

She'd drowned out by a long, crass belch that vibrates the hellhound's gut around you. Most of the air leaves with the burp and you renew your struggle, doing your damndest to either push through the stretched flesh and fur to freedom or get Loona to cough you back up. Neither happens. It does make her grab her distended gut in both hands and the struggle reduces her to waddling instead of walking.

 Unfortunately making her walk with some difficulty doesn't stop the acid from flowing in to replace the air she burped out.

What's it like inside a demon?  In this case, hot, wet and caustic. The plastic Thai food bag has dissolved away and the cardboard cartons inside it are half gone already. Darla's cell phone, wedged into a fold of stomach wall, is visibly softening. Pad Thai, cardboard and electronics will join you on your trip through a demon's bowels. Your clothes are already nearly digested away and the slimy feel of your skin shows you're right behind them.

Maybe a cell phone or clothes would give a real wolf's stomach pause but Loona isn't a wolf. All the bits that would trouble a normal animal as they failed to digest or got stuck somewhere aren't an issue. You, Darla, and your clothes and trinkets all went down Loona's throat intact and will all be consumed together by her hellish digestive juices. More and more acid comes flowing in, their stink adding to the brimstone reek of the hellhound's stomach. 

Loona grunts as she moves and there is a sense that something has changed. You don't need to see outside her stinking gut to sense the new environment. She just stepped through the portal and back into Hell. Behind her she leaves an empty apartment.  No one will ever know what happened. Maybe they'll think you eloped, unlikely though they'd consider it. Eventually they will file missing person reports, but those don't go anywhere without a body or evidence.

Loona burps again, and scratches the great swell of her gut. When her stomach is done with you there won't be any evidence, or any bodies. Just calories, new fat on her flanks, and a pile of hellhound shit that used to be two people. And all that will be in Hell, where the cops will never find it.

"Barry! What happened?"

You can't look at her. Darla's hair is dissolving away. Her eyebrows are gone. You read somewhere that hair is indigestible. Not to a hellhound it isn't. There won't be anything recognizable as you two at all when Loona uses the infernal equivalent of a toilet. The slimy pocket of flesh around you is stretched tight around her meals now, but you know it will gradually shrink down as the two of you are digested. Given how fast her stomach acids are working, inside a day there won't be anything left of you at all. Your mother will never know you spoke your last words in a demon's stomach. 

Your attention snaps back to Darla as she punches you with all her strength. It isn't much, given how little she can move in the squelching confines of Loona's stomach.

"This is all your fault somehow, isn't it!"

"No, it isn't, it's just this old girlfriend of mine who -"

"This thing was your girlfriend? You sick -"

"No, that isn't it at all!"

An evil chuckle shuts the two of you up. It comes from all around you, through the layers of muscle and fur between you and survival.

"Fight all you want," the hellhound growls.  "You aren't getting out of there the way you got in."

"Like that isn't obvious, you bitch!" Darla curses and elbows the fleshy walls. "What'd I do to you anyway?"

"Nothing," Loona growls, and chuckles again.  "You were just a bonus."

Darla's softening face twists in a snarl and she claws at you. You block as best you can. Luckily her fingernails have already digested away and it's almost impossible to get leverage to fight when everything around you is slimy, including your slowly dissolving would-be target.

You thought about settling down with Darla. You really thought she was the one. You daydreamed about spending the rest of your life with her.

You got your wish. Sadly, the rest of your life will amount to how long it takes you to use up those last few sips of air in here. Then you and Darla will explore the hellhound's guts. Together until death and even beyond, for at least the parts of you that end up as fat instead of hellhound shit. 

Loona lets out one last crass belch, plops heavily into whatever passes for a chair in Hell, and settles down to digest her meal. The last thing you hear through the horrible wet gurgle and Darla's panicked cries is the snore as the hellhound drifts off to sleep. Someone is talking to her, sounding upset. Loona ignores them, hiccups, and snores.