“I’ve been thinking.”
Saida literally jumped at the voice, whirling around. She knew a few coyote women, but the one sitting on her couch wasn’t one of them. She looked a little scruffy despite glossy, beautiful fur, a little lanky despite ample curves that her burgundy négligée made no effort to hide. An unlit cigarette, smelling faintly of cloves, dangled from between two fingers. “Who—how did you—”
“The last ones were the demon mice, weren’t they? Not the not-a-demon mouse. Or the rat who could be a demon, but isn’t.”
The Rha fell silent, open-mouthed, then her ears lowered. “How do you know what I’ve been dreaming?” She looked toward her bedroom. “I don’t think I’ve even put those in journals.”
“Dreaming.” The coyote finally turned, fixing her red-gold eyes on Saida. “But there are so many Saidas. Do you live in an apartment? A house? A dollhouse? Alone? With a girlfriend? A boyfriend? Husband? Wife? An owner? Do you come back to life after you’re eaten, or are you just gone, the food of a satisfied otter or dragon-coyote, or just one of hundreds of thousands going down the throat of a miles-long wolf woman?”
“Those are all dreams!” Saida snapped, then rubbed her forehead.
“To you.” She waved the cigarette. “But maybe you’re another Saida’s dream.” The coyote tilted her head, looking distant. “After all, you do dream about being eaten. Maybe the deaths that are real for some of you are dreams for others.”
“There’s one real Saida, and it’s me!”
The coyote looked back at her steadily, remaining silent for a few seconds, then waved her cigarette again, indicating the whole house. “Saida lives with her girlfriend Autumn the rabbit, a magic student. She’s naturally giant where she lives now, but spends a lot of time small. I’d go on, but I wouldn’t want to spoil it.” She grinned.
Saida slowly sat down by the coyote, eyes narrowing. “This, right now. This is a dream, isn’t it? Because you’re a lot like the way Arilin describes her imaginary coyote muse.”
“Maybe,” the coyote agreed. “I mean, I am going to eat you when I get bored with this conversation, but it’s not going to be one of the times you’ve really been eaten.” She waggled the fingers on her free hand. “Or will it?”
“I’ve never actually been eaten.”
“Oh, sure you have. Kenley the psychopathic stag, absolutely real. The otter girl, real. Riona the coyote girl, also real.”
She swallowed. “The dragon-coyote?”
“Mmm. Let’s say the more grandly apocalyptic your death scene is, the more likely it’s a dream. Although not for the Saida being eaten. For that one, well.” She grinned toothily.
Saida’s tail lashed again. “I told you, I’ve never really been eaten! I’ve had—had these dreams, but I don’t come back! That’s crazy!”
The coyote nodded. “It is. You won’t. I’m bored now, and I’m hungry. What would be a good dream for one of the other Saidas?” She tapped her chin. “I don’t think you’ve ever been subject to same-size vore. Well, nearly same-size.”
“What are you even—” Saida’s exclamation became a startled mewp! as the coyote grabbed one of her hands with her free hand and pulled the cat toward her. She blushed as she collided with the woman’s sizable chest, now more sizable than it had been: somehow, the coyote was closer to eight or nine feet tall.
“Think this is big enough?” The woman put Saida’s hand between her jaws and closed her mouth.
“Let me go, you crazy coyote!” Saida pushed hard with her free hand, at the same time the coyote swallowed.
The force of the swallow easily won, pulling the Rha’s arm in almost all at once like a noodle. Saida gasped, her forearm now in the coyote’s throat, the side of her face against her lips.
Her voice rose squeakily. “I said let me go! This isn’t—” The coyote’s jaws parted, wide. “This isn’t—isn’t funny—”
“Mmmh.” The coyote cupped a large hand against the other side of Saida’s head and shoved, swallowing again in the same motion.
Abruptly the Rha’s head was entirely in the woman’s mouth, her face pressed against the wide, wet tongue. Her arm was entirely in the throat now, and the coyote’s jaws were working over her shoulders, pinning her other arm to her side. The woman’s breath was almost chokingly sweet with clove.
“No!” she spluttered, muffled by the weird, wet echoes of the coyote’s mouth. Don’t be turned on, she told herself fiercely, but it wasn’t helping. There was so much saliva, and the woman was cute, and… “I’m too big for you to swallow whole oh god please don’t bite off my head I don’t know what you think I don’t come back and this isn’t a dream I’m—”
The coyote swallowed hard, and abruptly Saida’s head was in her throat, the muscle tight around her.
“Mmmmph! Mmmmph!” She couldn’t speak or even breathe, one arm stretched out ahead on its way to the woman’s stomach, the other pinned to her side. This was insane! There was no—no way—
Another swallow, and another, and another. She could feel the coyote leaning over her, working more of her body into her muzzle. Into her throat. Into her stomach. The teeth dragged through her fur, the tongue wet and tight against her chest, then her belly.
Then between her legs.
She bucked involuntarily as the coyote kept swallowing her, trying to breathe faster despite the lack of air. Maybe the woman wouldn’t—uh—
The coyote dragged her tongue very deliberately there, and Saida bucked again. Oh, goddess. She had an image of just what this must look like from outside, and somehow it all seemed maddeningly hot.
She kept licking while got her hands around the Rha’s legs and lifted them up, tilting her head up in the same motion, and now gravity started helping the cat go down. The tight sphincter wrapped around her head, then pushed it on into the woman’s stomach.
Lick. Lick. Lick.
Saida couldn’t help herself. She spasmed hard, and kept spasming as she picked up speed, her kicking legs sliding slowly between the coyote’s teeth, her body forced to curl up as more and more of her entered the woman’s stomach.
She was still spasming as all of her curled up there, awkwardly, unable to keep from panting despite the lack of air, the saliva replaced by thick acrid stickiness that would soon make her part of the muse.
“Mmm,” the woman’s voice came. “I’m going to have to sleep you off. You’re a delicious dream, Saida.”
She tried to scream a protest, but sleep was overtaking her—
—her eyes snapped open, and she blinked rapidly. All right. In her bed, quite undigested, Autumn sleeping by her side.
She sat up, rubbing her face.
“Mmm?” Autumn rolled over, eyes slitted open. “Nightmare?”
“Yes. I think. I, uh, was here when you fell asleep, right?”
“Yes.” The rabbit opened one eye fully. “You didn’t just dream you were eaten again, did you?”
“Yeah.” She sighed, dropping back onto the bed. “I won’t say some of these dreams aren’t hot, but they’re confusing, since this is literally how I’d wake up if I was coming back from really being eaten.”
Autumn closed her eyes again. “You’re weird.”
“I know.”
After a moment, Autumn wiggled her nose. “Have you been smoking clove cigarettes?”
© 2022 Arilin Thorferra