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They call them "Friendly beaches." They are adults-only, and for good reason.

The first time you visit one, you swim out into the surf and promptly encounter two dolphins enthusiastically fucking a woman. She has on one of those rebreather masks that let you talk to the animals and also let you stay underwater as long as the batteries last. That is a good thing as the dolphins humping her pussy and asshole are too horny to let her surface for air. Another dolphin waiting his turn unsheathes his weird bendy cock and chitters at you in the hopes of getting some.

You turn back into the shadows of the pier and as you emerge from the surf what do you find but a minor orgy. Half a dozen people, two sea lions, a seal, a sea otter as big as a man and a dolphin lying on his back in the shallows so a woman can straddle him. The second woman is belly down on the sand with the vigorously humping otter atop her. A sea lion nearby has one man's cock up its tailhole and another's in its mouth. It doesn't complain since as it licks and sucks the man's cock, its own is halfway down that same man's throat. The other sea lion is fucking a very fat man who is in turn fucking the seal in a blubbery man train.

Another otter draped over the rocks nearby grins a whiskery grin at you and moves her tail aside so you can see see her furry pussy.

That is your first experience at a friendly beach. Shorts around your ankles and balls deep in a she-otter who thrusts back against you as you fuck her. A good time for everyone. You get a long oozing scratch from an otter claw when she shudders and chirps but it's all worth it.

That was your first visit. On your second you realize just which friendly beach you're at.

The "Nature friendly, 100% digestible" clothing stand between the pot salesman and the mask rental should have been a clue. You ignored it and it isn't until you go under the pier and find half a man sticking out of a sea lion that you realize where you are.

You stop and stare in shock. The sea lion is lying on its back and slowly, with snakelike ease, it works its jaws over the man's ass. Folds of Hawaiian themed fabric press tight to the man's legs as his shorts are swallowed with him.

There's nothing left but a pair of legs by the time you notice the woman. She is sitting next to the feeding sea lion and pumping its thick pink cock with her hand. She doesn't even notice you, so fixated is she on the sight of the man disappearing. The beast's cocktip bumps her chin as she leans down and then she's sucking.

Your attention goes back to the sea lion's front end as it swallows. The bulge in its thick neck slips lower and just that fast its jaws close neatly around the man's ankles. You stare as one foot presses against the beast's palate. The man isn't trying to escape. He stiffens his leg and deliberately pushes himself deeper.

The urge to leap forward and grab the feet, pull the man back out to safety, comes too late. The fanged jaws shut and the sea lion swallows wetly. One gulp and the bulge slips down through its neck. A second and a whole human being is nothing more than a long, lumpy swelling in the sea-beast's lengthy body. It must be mostly stomach. You can see the shape of stretched-out man under all that fat. It's as though he wore a short-furred aquatic sleeping bag.

Through a thick layer of fat and muscle you see the man move. Not to squirm and try to escape, fruitless though it might be. You see the bulge of his hand as he slides it up onto his crotch and starts to jack off.

The sea lion grunts and shudders, its webby flippers kicking the air, and the woman makes a surprised sound. Then it's her turn to make wet gulping noises. She is as unphased by the man's slimy digestive fate as he is. One is in the sea lion's stomach, on his way to being fat and poop, and the other just swallowed its cum. Both are enjoying themselves.

You can only watch in horrified fascination as she straddles the beast. Its wet cock, shrunken now after ejaculating but still stiff thanks to its internal bone, is guided by her fingers beneath the edge of her bikini bottom and then she's impaled. She sucked the thing off so it'd be small enough to fit in her.

Even with her weight atop his swallowed face, the man continues to masturbate inside the beast. The sea lion lets out a long belch as she presses down on the lumpy bulge of man and you've finally had enough. You leave her bouncing on the thing's cock and go find something else to do.

But you can't stop thinking about that bulge and the frantic masturbation happening in that long stomach. That sea lion didn't hunt the man down. You're sure now that the couple went to the sea lion so the man could get himself swallowed. He knew what he wanted and got it. The woman got to see him swallowed, which turned her on enough to fuck the sea lion. The sea lion got a free meal and sex. Everyone profited. But what would lead people to do such insane things?

The next morning you see the woman again, walking next to a man you don't know. You're pretty sure it's the same man who should by all rights be just a last few bones dissolving in a sea lion's gut and a pair of shorts on its way though an intestinal tract. You can't bring yourself to approach them to ask so you do the next best thing. You talk to other people about it.

"Oh yeah," the mask vendor tells you. "A few people are into that. Not just at this beach, either. Some of the other friendly beaches have paperwork you can fill out so no one wonders why a dolphin or whatnot ended up with a person-shaped bulge. There it's a one way trip down a throat, here it's temporary. Well, you know what I mean."

You nod. A few booths down a guy is selling oddly discolored clothing. Passing through the digestive tract of an animal with all the more readily digested meat and bone does odd things to tie-dyes. That vendor told you that he sometimes sells the stuff back to the original owner of the clothing. At any other beach you stop having an interest on the effect the digestive juices might have on your T-shirt and shorts about the time the animal that swallowed you burps up your air. Here you can wear the clothing a second time, provided it gets recovered.

"How do people come back here?"

He shrugs. "Nobody knows. They just do. And only if they were eaten. Drown or die of a heart attack here and you stay dead. People tried that trick as soon as word of the beach got out. They stayed dead. But end up inside a sea otter or whatnot? You come back."

He points you to where it happens. There's a spot between the boardwalk and the shore brush. Half hidden in the rocks is a wooden box with CLOTHES stencilled on the side. Sure enough it's full of thrift store quality clothing.

You jump as a naked man appears out of thin air. He blinks and shades his eyes from the sun. "Well, shit," he says. When his eyes have adjusted he sees the box and fishes out a pair of shorts.

"What happened?"

"Oh." He sees you standing there and looks embarrassed. "There's an orca named Darla who can suck you into her sex. She'll let you fool around and then squirt you back out. People are just the right size to be a sex toy for Darla."

He pulls the shorts on and finds a mismatched pair of flip-flops in the box. "But I guess that wasn't Darla who sucked me in. I didn't expect to be digested in an orca's pussy but here I am." He kicks irritably at the sand. "However my swim fins get out of her, I hope it hurts."

It turns out people get eaten accidentally here from time to time. Or at least they weren't expecting it when it happened. Not everyone sticks their face in a sea lion's maw.

Half a day thinking about it and you still get a hard-on. You decide to do something about that.

You call her Tiny, because she's no bigger than you are. A very friendly female sea lion. Very friendly in the sense that she sees you walking up, rolls on her back and spreads her hind flippers for easy access. You don't know if she does that for every Tom, Dick and Harry but she does it for you. A moment later your shorts are around your ankles again and you are thinking about anything but that bulge.

Or so you thought. You showed up in the middle of Tiny's morning nap and she yawns right in the middle of the fuck.

You can't help yourself. You lean down over Tiny and stick your face in her mouth.

Reflexively her jaws snap shut, or as shut as they can get anyway with a whole human head in there, and you hear her started bark. You're busy squishing your face into a broad salivating sea lion tongue and fucking her for all you're worth. When she reaches out, wraps her foreflippers around your upper arms and swallows your head you don't even struggle.

There is a creak and pop as her jaws disjoint. They slip over your skull and your face slides into her throat. The warmth and wetness enfolds you and you buck atop her as you have the greatest orgasm of your life. As you recover you feel her lower jaw stretching down your chest and her muzzle between your shoulder blades. Slowly, methodically, with the now familiar snakelike movement of her jaws Tiny is swallowing you whole.

She is no bigger than you are. You could fight your way free of the foreflippers pulling you close and worm loose from the jaws working their way over your shoulders. You don't. If anything, you struggle to push yourself deeper. She's going to be so fat when this is all over. It'll take days to digest you. The thought gets you thrusting again even though you just came.

But as you build toward another orgasm her jaws stretch to their limits...and your shoulders are just too much. She twists her muzzle, trying to get her chin over one shoulder and her nose over the other. Even this is too much. She struggles and strains as you buck atop her, cumming again, but she just can't get you down.

With a groan she backs off. Light peeks in through the corners of her gaping maw and then her fangs show for a moment. They slot neatly together and you're outside her again, wet from the shoulders up but unswallowed. Strings of drool connect your chin to hers, the residue of her attempt to eat you. You blink. She blinks back.

What the hell did you just do? If she hadn't gotten stuck on your shoulders she'd be gulping down your legs right now. You were one long burp away from being sea lion food.

"Sorry," you say as you stand back up. She looks back, seeming equally apologetic. One of these days you have really got to rent a mask and talk to the animals you fuck. You shake your head and turn away. How did seeing one idiot get eaten lead to this? And more than one idiot does it. Her jaws could probably manage a woman of slight build and given how readily she tried to eat you, at least one woman has likely been down her throat. If you were a woman, or just a little smaller, she would have sported a you-shaped bulge until her guts gurgled you away.

On the way from under the pier you pass the lifeguard stand and look up. You've seen the half-sea-lion up there before but this time he's just climbing down the ladder to make room for his replacement. His flipper feet and hands are awkward but he manages. You stop and watch. A moment later he's standing next to you, a bulky, long bodied half humanoid creature better in the water than on land.

"Why do people do it?"

Dark ovals of goggle-like sunglasses turn to regard you. He's half a foot taller than you are and with his long thick body and short legs, much heavier. "Do what?"

"Feed themselves to animals."

He grins. Sharp teeth show past his lips and though his muzzle isn't much wider than Tiny's his head is. You wonder what his yawn would look like compared to hers.

"You can't control what you're into. I know a lady who says that when she was a kid if she saw a palm tree on TV, she knew someone would fall into quicksand. Old black and white Tarzan shows, they had to kill off the bad guy somehow and Tarzan couldn't just stick them with his knife. So, quicksand. She saw that a hundred times. Now she likes being swallowed feetfirst. She pretends to struggle." The grin gets wider. "It just makes her sink in faster."

His smile goes far back on each side. You are sure he wouldn't have any trouble getting over your shoulders. When he turns to head into the shadows under the pier you follow as though he had you on a leash.

He sits down on a rock and the long ridge you already saw bulging out of his shorts shifts. You've seen plenty of male sea lions by now and their sheaths are buried under the hide until they get hard. Either he is half-hard all the time or he's got a more doglike sheath to go with his half humanoid build. Probably something to do with having actual legs instead of just flippers.

He sat that way on purpose, expecting you to reach for his dick. You've heard about Jeff. Any other beach, people would think he's a freak. But people come to friendly beaches to fuck the animals and there aren't many half-humanoid ones around. He gets like four blowjobs a day out of sheer curiosity as to what his cock looks like. Jeff doesn't care if it's a man or a woman who reaches into his shorts. A mouth is a mouth to a half-sea-lion's cock.

It's not your mouth you're thinking about using. It's Jeff's. You reach out and he doesn't pull back as you hook your finger into his mouth and pull it open.

God, his mouth is huge. It creaks open, twice as wide as Tiny's and with twice the gape of gullet at the back. You could stick your whole arm in there and not hit the sides.

You don't stick in your arm. You stick in your whole head and he reaches out the same way Tiny did to pull you forward. There's just one difference. With Tiny, you had a chance to back out even if she wanted to eat you.

Not so with Jeff. He pulls you forward and simply slides his maw over you all the way to the waist in one long slither. Wet throat expands easily to let you in and five seconds after you offered yourself there's nothing left but a kicking set of legs hanging on either side of the half-sea-lion's lower jaw.

There's no foreplay (voreplay?) with Jeff. It all happens so fast. With a sweep of his flipper hands down your legs he strips off your shorts and sneakers. Your hard-on sinks into his thick meaty tongue and then with a toss of his muzzle it, and your ass, are in his throat.

He swallows you down as easily as a seagull gulps a fish, even though he's not much more than twice your size. Two more tosses of his muzzle to gobble up your legs and only your ankles and feet are left outside. He tilts his whiskery muzzle upward and gravity sends you sliding deeper.

You wanted this, you really did. That changes when a muscular valve expands over your face and you slide into a gut sloshing with stomach juices. They sting your skin the second they touch you and you realize, much too late, that this isn't what you wanted after all.

For all the good it does you. You manage exactly two kicks of protest before he gets his jaws around your naked feet, tilts his snout upward and swallows. Powerful throat muscles grip and squeeze and you slide heavily down his gullet. Your last-minute struggle just makes the great swelling sliding down his thick neck change shape a little before it ends up as a lumpy bulge in his thick middle.

Well. Here you are. And suddenly you aren't enjoying yourself. You visualized yourself stretched out in a long fleshy belly, as though you lay in a carnivorous sleeping bag. But though he's half sea lion, Jeff's body isn't as long as his relatives. You end up curled tightly in a muscular stomach and after his shift at the lifeguard tower he's hungry. His gut is half full of sloshing acid that burns everywhere it touches.

The only good news is the pain doesn't go on for long. You squirm desperately, trying to get him to throw you up, and with an all too well practiced squeeze of his webby hands he forces out the air that went down with you. Even from inside you hear the long burp and then there's nothing to breathe but acid.

In your last few seconds of life you hear the gurgle as his stomach goes to work. You knew this would happen from the second you started struggling, but you kicked and squirmed just the same. It didn't help. You won't get out of Jeff's gut the way you got in. You volunteered to be food and as food you shall be treated.

*****

You open your eyes to blinding light and instantly know what happened. Just like the naked man you saw earlier you shade your eyes from the sun. When you've recovered a bit you find a pair of shorts in the CLOTHES box and try to work out how long you were dead.

The sun hasn't moved much. Maybe an hour? Assuming its the same day. A few steps away past the rocks is the boardwalk and you make your way back to the mask vendor.

"Tuesday, yeah," he says, and looks you over. "Different shorts. First time being eaten?"

You just shake your head and walk down the beach until you can circle back under the pier. Jeff is there in the same spot, facing away. You come up from behind him and he raises a finned hand as you open your mouth.

"Just a sec," he says. "Just a..." he lets out a sound halfway between groan and growl.

He shudders where he sits and you see the cat-ears poking up from beyond his thigh. A matching cat face pops up and the cheetah woman swallowsrather more loudly than is really necessary. She grins at you and you see that two of her whiskers are stuck together with a strand of something gluey. It's not hard to work out what it is.

Callie is the only female animal person you've seen and the only one with a mostly human build. Jeff and that long-bodied otter surfer dude are mostly animal shaped. If it weren't for her round cat head and digitigrade legs Callie could pass for an athletic woman in a furry suit.

She stands up from behind Jeff and she's wearing a polka dot bikini outfit that would blend with her spotty coat if it the polka dots weren't bright red.

"New guy," she purrs, and slaps the great bulge in Jeff's middle. The bulge that is you. "Come by sometime, stick your head in my mouth. We'll see what happens."

You open your mouth to say either "Sorry, not interested" or "You're way too small to swallow me". You're not sure which would have come out had Jeff not interrupted you by handing you your shorts and shoes. He takes a moment to pull his own shorts back up as you put your original ones back on and make sure your wallet and cell phone are still in the pockets. They are. You'd feel pretty stupid right now if he hadn't taken your shorts off as he ate you.

By the time you do that the cheetah woman has left. You are trying to decide whether to pissed at Jeff or grateful that he took care of your stuff when he beats you to the punch.

"Before you yell at me, " he says. "New people who want it as badly as you did, I always swallow them right down. Not all the predators around here are nice and if you offer one a meal they'll take it. Some will eat you just as fast as I did and there isn't always room to play inside a pred. If you can't handle one gulping you down without letting you play, maybe you should find another fetish. Or at least wait until you know if the pred is nice before you stick your head in."

As he turns to talk to you the lumpy bulge in his middle shifts and your hand goes out to feel it without you telling it to. Even though the thick fat and muscle you feel your own face. He hasn't had time to digest you yet. Part of you will probably still be in there when he climbs the lifeguard stand tomorrow morning.

You're torn between wanting to throw up and wanting to jack off. As you think it over you see a long furry body emerge from the surf and flop down like a speed bump on the sand. The sea otters hereabouts get huge and this one's body is longer than you are tall, not even counting the head and tail.

That was what you were looking for earlier. A pred long enough to stretch out in. Sure, you'd still end up as food, but at least there would be room to move until the air ran out.

Jeff follows your gaze. "Ah," he grunts. "That's what you were after. Some people like the sleeping bag preds. Remember, though..."

"Sleeping bags still digest you," you finish. Jeff's whiskers twitch as he smiles.

"Wait," he says as you start toward the otter. "Free advice. Don't get eaten more than once a day. For one thing, not every animal around here will eat people and it's selfish to fill every available belly when others want in too. Second, you do it ten times a day, you'll burn out. I've seen it happen. People just lose interest. Sometimes even the preds get tired of free meals if you're too eager."

You think about that. He's a lifeguard. He's seen it all. He's probably right.

"Maybe twice a day is okay once in a while," he says. "Just don't make a habit of it."

There's a woman watching the two of you talk. She's waiting for you to leave. You are pretty sure you know what will happen when you do. A whole bunch more potential baby sea lions will die in her stomach, or something similar. You don't have to be a cat woman to digest sea lion sperm. That thought reminds you of the cheetah.

"Just one more thing," you say. "That cheetah girl. Callie. She couldn't swallow me, right? I must weigh twenty pounds more than she does."

Jeff has a pretty cool smile for a man-eating half sea lion.

"Go stick your head in her mouth," he says as he waves the women over. "See what happens."

You move away to give the two privacy as Jeff pulls his shorts down for the second time in half an hour. Anywhere else he'd be a freak of nature. Here he's the perfect choice for a lifeguard and everyone wants his dick. It's a good job if you can get it.

You consider the speed bump of an otter. This all started because you saw someone stretched out in the gut of a similar beast and just like that you had a new fetish. You still want to fuck the animals. It's just that now you want more of you than just your penis to end up inside one, at least sometimes.

In the deepest shadows under the pier you see something move. Silhouetted against the brighter background for a moment, you make out the shape of a waving tail. Callie is back there, watching you. Waiting to see what you decide.

She probably can't swallow you. You're inches taller than she is. And if she did her belly would be as big as her whole body. She'd have to waddle around like a pregnant woman until she digested you.

Your hard-on is back. You make your way between the mussel-covered rocks to where she's sitting.

"What did Jeff tell you," she purrs. Her ears swivel toward you like little radar dishes. You have her full attention.

"He said twice a day is okay, occasionally." She nodded as though this were sage advice. "He also said to stick my head in your mouth to see what will happen."

"Come see then," she purrs. She licks her chops and you're pretty sure you hear something pop in her jaw. You've heard that sound before, and recently. That time, the would-be predator was too small to swallow you. And Tiny is at least as heavy as Callie. But the cheetah is looking you over the way you look over a good steak.

There is only one way to find out. You take your shorts off and and drape them over a rock, then kick off the sneakers you got back from Jeff. That's one lesson you've learned today. It's easier for everyone concerned if you strip first.