Title:           Hammerspace Dragon 4: Accidental Meal
Author:          dzamie
Pastebin link:   http://pastebin.com/S0zX36NJ
First Edit:      Thursday 9th of June 2016 05:43:46 PM CDT
Last Edit:       Thursday 9th of June 2016 05:43:46 PM CDT

You look at the small reptile on the table in front of you, incredulous. If you hadn't just seen a demonstration, you would've called bullshit then and there. "Really?" you ask, "I mean yes, I did just see you down a hotdog, but I still find it hard to believe."
 
The little dragon smiles, drawing her head higher and shifting her wings confidently. "Mm-hm. Hotdogs, real dogs, people... even a train once, although that was riskier than I would've liked." She sits back on her haunches, glancing up and away as she recalls the event. "I just wanted to see if I could, and only remembered too late that I can't stop halfway. It's a good thing the train was empty, otherwise I'm sure a passenger would've tried to get out and beat me to death or something."
 
"What happened to the train? Is it still in there?" You stare intently at her tiny muzzle, as though part of the train might still be visible.
 
"No, took a hell of a long time to digest though. I should've kept it; it would've made a very nice addition to my hoard."
 
You shake your head, a slight frown on your face. "Sorry, I don't quite believe it. Your long tongue, the vanishing hotdog... it's gotta be a trick, like those swordswallowers at carnivals, especially those who just use perspective tricks."
The dragon looks almost offended by your remark, drawing her head back and lifting  a forepaw off the table. "My tongue is perfectly real, I assure you. I have to use it to ensnare some of my rowdier prey, and something as short as you'd expect would fail magnificently at that!" She sticks her tongue out, a flat, pink length of flesh poking nearly half a foot from the tip of her snout. The tiny forked end flicks up and down like a snake's, and you can't quite tell if she's trying to prove her point, mocking you, or just tasting the air.
 
You reach out with one hand, resting a few fingers on her tongue; it feels warm and slimy, but much firmer and resistant than you'd expected. "Well, I believe you on this count," you say, "and I guess only time will tell for the other bit." Smiling apologetically, you reach out with your other hand to rub her under her jaw - she always likes that. The little winged lizard smiles and closes her eyes at the affection, probably also happy to have convinced you. As you start to draw your hand away, you brush gently down the front of her slender neck, and everything changes.
 
Sudddenly, her tongue wraps firmly once around your fingers and pulls them back into her now-open mouth. Before either of you has time to realize what happened, she swallows reflexively, pulling your fingers halfway into a tight, warm tunnel. Her eyes snap open, and she looks up at you in surprise. Surprise and... fear? A little annoyed, you pull your arm back. Or rather, you try to, but your fingers refuse to leave her gullet, and in fact slide in a few inches further as the gentle heat of her mouth spreads over your entire hand. Glancing curiously at your hand, you see only your wrist seeming to painlessly squeeze down to fit in the dragon's jaws.
 
Bracing your other hand against the edge of the table, you try again to remove your hand from the hot, slimy confines of the dragon's throat. Her clawed feet scrape against the table, but even as you drag her towards the edge, firm, muscular ripples of flesh glide over your hand, and soon much of your forearm seems to vanish from the world, not showing so much as a bulge in her slender neck.
 
A shaky trace of fear creeps into your voice as you ask her, "C'mon, can't you spit me out?" The dragon blinks a few times, then closes her golden eyes and convulses her body, as though trying to throw up. After a few moments of this, she collapses onto her belly, wings drooping. Her snout blows tiny jets of hot air against your elbow, and it starts to set in just how quickly she's eating you, intentionally or not. You stretch your fingers out, hoping to trigger any type of gag reflex, but the strong gullet simply forces them together again with another wave of peristalsis.
 
You sigh, looking the surprising predator in her eyes. "I get the feeling this would keep happening even if you died. I give up; I'm out of ideas," you admit, slouching your shoulders in defeat, "but... if this is to be my fate, please make it quick, okay?" A weak smile flickers across your features as you slowly, deliberately, bring your free hand to her open maw and pressing your fingers gently towards the back of her mouth.
 
You could almost swear the little dragon grins, just before her tongue snakes out of her mouth, wraps a few times around your offered arm, and begins to pull it into her, getting no resistance. Soon, both arms are side-by-side in front of you, soaked in slippery, wet saliva. Your body is jerked forward as the dragon actually swallows, yanking your face right next in front of her spread-open jaws. This close to her insatiable throat, her mouth looks easily capable of swallowing you, as though she were truly as tall as a building. You rest your chin on her squishy tongue and feel a few sharp points against your shoulders. Another automatic pull pushes your head into the start of her gullet, the wet squelching sounds and soft flesh muffling the noise of her claws tearing easily through your shirt fabric. The dragon gulps again and again as you're squeezed through the dark, slimy throat, and as she runs her slippery tongue over your belly, you realize that she's eating you out from inside your clothes.
 
The dragon pauses at your waist, and you squirm inside her uncomfortably, unable to think of anything but her pointy-looking teeth and their next, sensitive obstacle. Unfortunately, your movement only seems to encourage her, eliciting a low purr all around you as she creeps forward, fitting her jaws under your waistband. Her long, nimble tongue wraps a few times around your cock, guiding your slowly-stiffening length to point towards her hungry throat as she slides her coiled, slick tongue over every last inch, savoring the taste. You barely notice she's kept eating you until you realize she's sandwiched your twitching shaft between your drool-covered midsection and her hot, rippling throat. The constant heat and slow cramping of your arms is forgotten as the tiny dragon swallows and the flesh all around you presses inward, rubbing against your entire body. The dragon begins to swallow in short, quick bursts; your body seems to act on its own, pressing forward in time with her gulps as you thrust against her warm, slick insides, unwittingly helping her swallow you faster.
 
Just as she wraps her tiny jaws around your shins and tips what's left of you up toward the ceiling, a powerful wave of pleasure courses through your body. Your cry of ecstacy is muffled by the flesh around you, and spurts of your seed coat the insides of her throat as you slide through. By the time you finish regaining your senses, you realize your naked form is entirely inside the dragon, and your head is being pressed through a tight ring of muscle, into a more open, empty area, hotter even than her throat. Her stomach. Panic seizes you once more, and you throw a flurry of punches and kicks into the soft walls to no reaction but a gentle purr. "Oh, keep that up, would you? It feels so nice..." her voice calls to you, "and don't worry, most people don't last that long against a dragon."
 
With a wet 'SPLAT,' you fall back against the floor of her stomach, despair evident in your voice as you say, "I'm going to die here, aren't I. Alone, naked, afraid, and nobody's going to be able to find my body..."
 
There's a brief pause before she responds, sounding almost amused, "oh goodness, I completely forgot you didn't want to be eaten from the start! Sorry, old habits. You'll be fine, really; I keep my hoard in a similar place. Now then," the dragon's voice quickly changes to a sharp, scolding one, "never do that again! While you do taste very, very good, it's rude to feed yourself to a lady without asking her."
 
Irrational anger sweeps over you as you take in her last sentence, and you lash out again, thrashing against the confines of her belly. "How was I to know what would happen? I didn't even believe you could eat like that!" Hot and exhausted, you let yourself slump back into the comforting embace of the dragon's gut. She says something in reply, but you hardly listen as you drift off to sleep, hoping the dragon was telling the truth about her stomach.