You grasp at the bottom row of teeth, your hands are slick with saliva and his jaw keeps moving. Hot breath washes over your bare back and you blink, then look up, Your terrified reflection cringes back. The bastard watches you from his bathroom mirror; his chuckle is an unneeded earthquake rumbling up your legs. Every time you reach forward his teeth rise to meet, and you are reminded, again, one click would cut your hand off. Not even cleanly, your bones would crack and splinter, leaving your hand to limply hang. A long blast of air is his sigh. Without prompting his lips close. Your scream gets caught in throat when his tongue smushes you to his palate. Back and forth you’re rubbed; every gasp brings saliva to your face and the overpowering taste of minty sugar. There’s no room to gag, no room to punch or beg. You feel your body point down, and suddenly there’s room. Room for your feet to meet the squeeze of his throat. It Drags you down up to your thighs, then under your chest. Your eyes water and your lungs burn; your arms pinned to your side by his throat. You close your eyes tight and suck in one last breath-
before he swallows you.
ThiS IS GLORIOUS I’M JUST– *incoherent screaming*