Digested In A Dream

Fatal Pokemon vore!  Enjoy! C:

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Flint the Floatzel walked cheerfully to the pond, whistling to himself.  He was here to meet up with his Feraligatr friend, Kapri.  They had a very fun day ahead of them, and he didn’t want to be late.
At long last, he finally reached his destination.  But when he looked around the pond, he didn’t see Kapri anywhere.  “Where is he?” Flint muttered, adjusting his headphones with a frown.  “Kapri?  Where are you?  Hello?”
Suddenly, without warning, a large, rough hand came from behind and grabbed the Floatzel, hoisting him in the air.  Flint cried out in surprise, but as the hand turned him around, he saw that the one who had grabbed him was Kapri.  The large Feraligatr was much bigger than him, over twice his size, with hands larger than Flint’s head—no wonder he had been startled by the grab.
“Hey, Kapri!” the Floatzel said cheerfully.  Sure, he had been surprised by this, but he wasn’t scared—it was likely just a prank by his good friend, designed to scare him, and nothing more.
But the Feraligatir didn’t respond to Flint’s greeting.  Instead, Kapri’s tongue escaped his mouth and lapped greedily over his lips.  The Feraligatr was salivating over . . . him?
Before the Floatzel could say anything, Kapri’s mouth opened wide, and Flint got a good look at his maw, just for a second—large, sharp teeth, enormous tongue, and ominous throat—before he was shoved inside, head first.
“W-What’s going on?” Flint asked.  “I. . .”  Whatever he was going to say drifted away to nothing as the Feraligatr lapped him up.  Kapri slavered him with saliva, licking his friend all over, and it was getting Flint /very/ turned on.  The Floatzel sighed happily—he always loved when the Feraligatr indulged in his vore fetish like this.
But, he noticed, Kapri wasn’t playing him with his tongue like he normally did.  This was much more . . . hungry.  “Uh, Kapri?” Flint said.  “Can we—”  A loud /gllk/ interrupted the Floatzel, and before he knew it, his head and neck was crammed inside his friend’s throat.  He was getting a little nervous.
The Feraligatr happily gulped down more of his friend, slurping up the small Floatzel and sending more and more of Flint into his throat.  “Um, can you let me out?” Flint asked nervously from inside the throat.  “Kapri, stop, please?”  He pleaded with the predator, wiggling a bit as he tried to get out.  But he couldn’t get himself free. . .
By now, almost all of the Floatzel was in the throat, and the only thing left for the Feraligatr to swallow was Flint’s legs and tails.  Kapri sucked in the legs, lapping them up greedily before gulping them down.  Flint expected his friend to grab his tails and pull him out, like the Feraligatr did in the past—that’s what always happened, after all.  But instead, Kapri sucked them inside his maw and swallowed them, causing a surprised Flint to be sent straight to the stomach.
The Floatzel was sent down the esophagus bit by bit, his presence creating a huge throat bulge, until, finally, he reached the Feraligatr’s growling belly.  First, his head popped inside the space, and the first thing that hit him was the smell—clearly, Kapri had already eaten something, and its stench populated the place.  Looking down, he could see a liquidy pile down at the bottom of the stomach, the remains of whatever the Feraligatr had devoured.  And soon, that would be him. . .
More and more of the Floatzel was forced inside the grumbling stomach, and finally, he plopped inside of it, splashing right into the slurry of food.  He was quickly covered in the half-digested meal, and Flint quickly tried to wipe it off of him.  When he finished, he paused for a moment, processing what had just happened.
He had been eaten.  Actually /eaten/ by his friend.  Kapri had never actually /swallowed/ him before!  His heart was pounding with fear and excitement from this new development, and he knew that he would be digested in here. . . Fuck, that was making him harder than he had ever been before.  But his friend wouldn’t /really/ digest him, of course.  That was silly.
The stomach suddenly shifted, and the Floatzel was flipped to one of the walls, which became his new floor—apparently Kapri had went to lie down.  As Flint moved, so did the slurry, and it dumped all over him yet again, covering him with slime and stomach juices.  “Great,” the Floatzel muttered, flopping down in the goop.
His hand went down to his sick, and he idly ran his fingers over it.  Kapri wouldn’t actually digest him—he was certain of that.  So he might as well have some fun in here, while he was in the Feraligatr’s stomach.
The belly grunted and growled around him, reminding the Pokémon of his place as food.  He stroked his shaft up and down, moaning as he masturbated, loving feeling like nothing more than a morsel.
The gut’s noises seemed to grow louder, and stomach juices began to pool underneath him.  “Yes, yes,” Flint muttered, stroking more now, running his hands along the length of his penis.  “Treat me like the food I am. . .”
The stomach’s grumbles became their loudest yet, and at that moment, the Floatzel came, spraying semen into the stomach juices below.  He panted for a moment, smiling as he basked in the afterglow.  Flint went limp with happiness, snuggling against the walls of the wonderful stomach, feeling better than he’d ever felt in a long time.
That’s when he felt the tingling.
The Floatzel felt a slight sensation underneath him, and looked down at the ooze crowding near his legs.  “What’s going on?” he muttered, lifting up his feet to have a closer look.
That’s when he realized that this feeling was going through his fur, to his skin.  And it was only where the ooze had splashed on him. . .
Was he being digested?
“Hey, Kapri,” Flint called out, just as stomach juices dripped from the walls, and splashed on his form.  “Can you let me out now?  It’s getting a little uncomfortable in here. . .”
He was expecting his friend to worry for his safety, and quickly spit him up.  Instead, the Feraligatr laughed, his voice muffled through the stomach walls, and said, “You’re just food now, Flint.  And food isn’t coming out!”
“W-What?” stammered the Floatzel.  The stomach growled, and more juices started to gather at the bottom.  The ones that had splashed on his body started tingling now too—he was getting tingly all over.  This couldn’t be good. . .
“Let me out!” Flint cried desperately.  “Let me—AH!”  
A burning sensation was spreading through his skin, an intense feeling that started in his feet and legs, and traveled up his body, to the spots he had been splashed at.  It was worse at his lower body, because of how he was currently sitting—those felt like they were on fire.
“Oh no, oh no,” the Floatzel muttered, putting the pieces together.  This wasn’t just him being eaten. . . He was really going to be digested, actually broken down by these stomach juices!  He had to do something now, before it was too late!
And so Flint started to struggle.  He felt the stomach walls and pounded his paws against them, banging hard and screaming, “Somebody, anybody, please!  Let me out of here!” over and over and over.  But nothing happened, and nobody even seemed to hear him . . . aside from Kapri, who just laughed at his efforts.  
So next, he scratched the stomach walls with his claws, desperately trying to dig himself out of the terrible mess he had found himself in.  Maybe if he scratched hard enough, he could penetrate the surface, and get out of here before it was too late!  But that didn’t work either—his desperate scratching didn’t even leave a mark on the gurgling, growling walls.  Perhaps they were too strong for him, or perhaps he was just too weak.  Either way, that wasn’t going to be a way out of here.
The worst part was that all his struggling worked up the belly walls, and said belly walls were dripping with juices.  So the more he beat and scratched against the walls, the more stomach fluid he got on his body.  By the end of it all, there wasn’t a part of him that /hadn’t/ been covered in some form or fashion.
“Shit, shit, shit!”  Flint cursed his bad luck as he looked at his burning body, feeling more vulnerable than ever before.  He sighed and took a deep breath, trying to figure out a way how he could get out of here.  But it was hard to concentrate with the stomach juices digging into his skin.
The burning was getting more intense than before, and from the sound of it, something was . . . dropping into the stomach slime?  But what could it be—he was the only one in here, right?  Confused, the Floatzel looked down.
And that’s when he saw it.
His feet and legs were . . . completely naked, bare of any fur that had been on them before.  Instead, they were replaced by pink skin, whereas his fur was dropping into the belly’s juices at the bottom, falling off in clumps.  Even worse, the clumps of fur stayed upon being dropped inside, and became part of the disgusting juice.
“Oh, /fuck/!” Flint exclaimed.  That meant the stomach juices were digging more into him now.  They had penetrated his fur. . . His skin would be next. . .!
“LET ME OUT!” he screamed.  The Floatzel were temporarily berserk, flying about the stomach as he scratched against the walls, screaming and hitting with a mad flurry as he desperately tried to escape, trying to ignore his pain.  All the while the liquid continued to drip, getting on his skin more and more as he attempted to leave his current predicament. . .
“PLEASE, KAPRI!  OR SOMEBODY, JUST /SOMEBODY/, PLEASE!  LET ME OUT OF THIS BELLY!” he yelled.
That’s when the entire place began to shift again.  The stomach juices suddenly flipped, and gravity turned upside down.  Flint was forced to the “ceiling” of the belly, and a heavy weight dropped on top of him, pressing hard enough to make him scream in agonizing pain.  Kapri had apparently turned back over, doing a belly flop and hitting him in the process.
Then the belly grunted and growled around him, squeezing the Floatzel inward and forcing him in an uncomfortable position.  He could feel the gut’s walls pressing in on his bones, and when it squeezed again, there was a loud /snap/ as his shoulder dislocated!  Flint screamed in pain, but the stomach continued pressing around him, dislocating other joints in the process and rendering him barely able to move.
Then the walls began to shake.  And before the Floatzel knew it, the walls were contracting, squeezing around his body tighter than ever before.  He heard and felt the /snap/ of his leg breaking, and cried out again, tears running down his face.  The belly continued to contract, paying him no mind as the space got tighter, forcing him into an awkward spot.
It felt like he was there for an eternity, waiting for his bones to break and for the walls to squeeze.  But it finally let him go: the gut retreated away from him, and plopped Flint onto the wet floor.  He was still in an weird position—the walls didn’t go away completely, despite the retreat—but at least he wasn’t being squeezed.
Flint took a second to process his injuries.  Yeah, more than a few bones were broken now, some in his legs and especially in his arms. . . He was in much more pain, and was rendered unable to struggle anymore.  Had Kapri done this on purpose?  Or had the Feraligatr just turned over out of sleepiness?  The Floatzel prey had no way of knowing.
The stomach juices had splashed on him more thanks to the change, and now, digestion began in earnest.  More and more liquid began dripping from the walls, and before Flint knew it, it had filled up more than a third of the belly, reaching his stomach.  Everything hurt, but everything that was submerged in liquid hurt more, and it began to dig into his skin. . .
The ooze made everything tingle all over, and the submerged parts of him tingled and bled as they began to penetrate inside of him.  Flint didn’t even want to look at what was going on—he screamed in absolute pain, and at that moment, the liquids rose again, reaching his chest.  Now more of him was in agony, tingling and being dug into by the stomach juices.  It reached inside his skin and reached the Floatzel’s muscles, threatening his bones and vital organs.
Flint knew it had to be over soon—and he was also begging for release from this hell he had found himself in.  The gut’s ooze rose again, reaching his chin, and all of him tingled.  He screamed as the juices reached into his body, chipping away at his skin and muscle, reaching his bones and organs. . .
He couldn’t even feel his lower body anymore, and knew it had to have been digested.  It was the end now, and the Floatzel submitted to it.  Before he knew it, he had passed out, and the stomach consumed his entire body.  Before long, all of the meat that had formerly composed the Floatzel's body was digested in the Feraligatr's powerful gut.
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Kapri patted his belly, feeling his large meal finally digest.  That had been an extremely satisfying feast, and he was so happy he had finally decided to devour his Floatzel friend.  Flint was just as delicious as the Feraligatr had imagined—it had been well worth the wait.
Satisfied, Kapri turned over again, and closed his eyes.  He was feeling pretty sleepy after such a good meal—perhaps it was time for a nap.  He dozed off, snoring. . .
. . . When he woke up, the first thing the Feraligatr noticed was the glorping sounds coming from his gut—specifically, coming from his intestines.  So it looked like Flint was already on his way out of the digestive system, then?  Kapri smiled, and stood up.  This was perfect.
He walked over to a nearby tree, waiting for the inevitable moment.  Finally, he felt a pressure in his bowels and squatted down at the base of the trunk: it was, at last, time to take a nice, big shit.
The Feraligatr sighed as he expelled his friend from his rear end, feeling a ton of shit exit from his asshole and pour onto the ground.  He also felt pressure from inside, and squeezed harder—and bones came out of his butt, undigested from their time in the stomach and intestines, landing in a nice, big pile on the ground.  He loved the feeling of the bones sliding out of his rear especially: each one had a unique feeling at his asshole, and reminded him that his Floatzel friend was his food, and nothing more.
A big bone interrupted his thoughts, something large and circular that he felt leaving his asshole, and Kapri grinned.  He squeezed hard, exerting pressure on his asshole bit by bit, and with a loud /pop/, Flint’s small skull left his rear end and tumbled onto the ground.  Then the Feraligatr felt another blockage, and pushed: this time, the Floatzel’s headphones and scarf popped out of his ass, landing in the pile of poop next to the skull.
There was just a little more poop, and then he was done.  Kapri sighed in satisfaction as shit left his asshole and landed on the ground, and a moment later, that was it.  All of Flint’s remains had left him and landed at the base of the tree.  Damn, had that been a satisfying disposal, topping the delicious meal off perfectly.  He let out a longing /burp/, and turned around, examining the pile.
Looking down, he saw so much shit he could hardly believe it—did the tiny Floatzel really make /that/ much waste?  There was a big pile of bones to top if all off, too.  But Flint’s skull had rolled onto the ground, next to the damaged headphones, and it was staring up at the Feraligatr ominously. . .
Kapri laughed and reached out, gingerly picking up the skull.  He examined it for a moment, looking back into the empty eyes with a laugh.  Flint wasn’t there anymore—the Floatzel was nothing but food and waste.  There was nothing remaining of his former friend.  Well, aside from all the shit and bones.
He placed the skull back onto the ground, and lifted his foot high.  With one decisive stomp, he shattered the skull to pieces.
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“GAHHH!”
Flint sprang up from his nightmare—or was it more of a wet dream?—his eyes flying open.  There was something resting on his back. . . He turned around, and saw Kapri’s heavy hand there.  The Feraligatr, who was fast asleep, was also breathing on the Floatzel with steamy, smelly breath, his mouth wide open.  Lastly, Flint noticed his cock was rock hard against the grass, and his stomach was stained with cum.
The Floatzel felt his body carefully, trying to process whether or not he was dead.  After a few moments, he whispered, “I’m . . . alive, then.  Huh.”  He thought about the dream, the swallowing, the digestion.  And then he had an idea.
Flint looked over at his friend’s open maw, staring into that beautiful cavern for a long moment.  Then he gently pushed Kapri’s hand off of him and stood up, moving toward his friend’s mouth, entranced by it.  He knew his friend could easily swallow him—the Feraligatr was over twice his size, for goodness sake!  His friend’s stomach had to be everything he ever wanted in a predator—and maybe tonight, he could finally get there.
The Floatzel stopped in front of Kapri’s open maw, staring into it for a long moment.  With one hand, he reached inside the pulsating throat.  With his other hand, he reached down, and started masturbating, running his hand up and down his cock.  Leaning his head into that open maw, he waited to be swallowed.
. . . And he waited.
. . . And he waited some more.
Flint had hoped that the jaws around him would close around him, and make his dream into a reality.  He couldn’t bring himself to do it, so he’d hoped the jaws would close and decide for him.  But that didn’t seem to be happening anytime soon.  So, with a sigh, he stopped fapping, and leaned out of Kapri’s open mouth, taking his hand out of the maw.  Perhaps another day.  But not today.
The Floatzel settled against his friend’s stomach, listening to the organ growl underneath him.  Listening to that comforting sound, Flint soon fell asleep again.