Big Corp Inc. (G/T)

Part 35: Stomach and Loins

Mr. Hardon had difficulty focusing on anything the CEO said in the meeting while Candy was squirming around inside his digestive system. She couldn't seem to calm down, despite being trapped for hours. He was amazed how he could feel even her most subtle movements, when she paced around, sat down, or leaned up against his stomach walls. She had mercurial moments where she would beat up his stomach lining with her teeny fists and feet. Her volatile fits didn't hurt at all for the Giant, though. He loved the sensation of her frenzied little bumps, like an internal massage. She made the meeting a lot more enjoyable.

Mr. Wolfe droned on about sales, about trending products, about new clients and markets. He showed charts and graphs and went over the essential guts of the business, profits and losses. Truthfully, Mr. Hardon didn't care about most of this nonsense. He enjoyed his nice cushy office job in management and he mostly kept his position by sucking up to the CEO, not by being competent. His eyes began to glaze over with boredom.

Inside his belly, Candy was undergoing the worst experience of her life. She'd rather be locked in the closet with a million giant spiders swarming over her, or marinating in Ronny's coffee all day, than be trapped inside Mr. Hardon's stomach. It was hot, wet, uncomfortable, rancid, and disgusting. Minutes dragged on like hours. She hated being in total pitch-black darkness, although she had to admit she wasn't sure if she would be any better off seeing her dripping meat prison in all its red, revolting glory. However, her lack of sight accentuated all the gross sounds of Mr. Hardon's innards: the grotesque rumbling of his stomach, his throbbing heartbeat, the wind tunnel of his lungs, fluids flowing, the squelching and popping of his muscles and joints and organs shifting. Her sense of touch was enhanced as well, but everything felt the same: slippery, mushy, warm, and saturated with fluid. Candy felt like she was stuck in a soul-sucking dream, her sanity slowly seeping away.

Mr. Hardon kept an eye on his watch, since he didn't want to digest Candy. After the exquisite pleasure he had experienced with her alive inside him, he wanted to make sure she stayed intact so he could eat her again, as many times as he wanted. When the three-hour mark approached, he alerted Mr. Wolfe so he could demonstrate how the ingested human would be removed. The individual kits the company sold for consumer use came with an acid-proof rope with a light at the end that the Giant would swallow to fish the human out of his belly.

Candy slipped deeper into the lake of acid as Mr. Hardon's body lurched around her when he stood up. She listened as Mr. Hardon explained what he was doing to the Giant managers, his baritone voice resounding through his guts. She was desperate to get out and shifted on her feet impatiently, sinking into the wrinkly stomach lining. Finally, his voice went quiet and she heard him swallowing.

Light entered her eyes, from a floating spark like a firefly, painful after being in crushing blackness for so long. Candy beheld with horror the churning pink viscera around her as she grabbed the rope like her life depended on it. The levitating luminescence rose up, bringing Candy with it. She cringed and squeezed her eyes shut as she experienced the familiar compression of wet flesh encasing her tightly on all sides through the long tunnel of the Giant's esophagus. She was so miserable, she wanted to cry. She had undergone so much torture already, for so long, and this last bit just made it all so much worse. She needed to get out, now.

Her plea was granted, as she was ripped out of his large throat, slapping his uvula on the way out. She was dragged across his tongue and banged her elbow and shin on his teeth as he removed her from his mouth. She slid across his lips and was momentarily blinded by the bright light, and stunned by the chill, of the exterior world. Mr. Hardon slopped her onto the big table in a puddle of gastric fluids, and she reflexively curled up on her side and silently wept. As she gradually overcame the shock of her experience and her eyes adjusted to the light, she became aware that she was back in the conference room. Mr. Hardon was rambling on about something, but Candy couldn't understand anything he was saying. She wanted to crawl into a secluded corner and process her suffering in privacy, but instead she was out on public display. All those Giant men, the corporate executives in fancy suits, were gawking at her, observing her shame, the dreadful, lowly, pathetic state she was in. She was mortified. They loomed over her, making her feel small and insignificant, without a shred of pity or remorse for her plight.