FSE

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The days blend together when you're in jail. Especially in this jail. No cellmate, barely a glimpse even of the guards. They glare at you through the bars, sliding in your tray of food and otherwise ignoring you. It's just you and the lines you scratch into the paint to keep track of passing days. You're not even sure if your count is correct. With no window and the lights on all the time it is hard to keep track of the passage of time.

You've almost forgotten what you did to get thrown in here. You just want to get out. You'd do anything to get out.

You look up as you hear the hallway door click. Its not mealtime, why would a guard be here? Because it isn't a guard.

"Thank you guard. Yes, I'll be fine." With a rustle of her lush-furred tail the skunkette shuts the door behind her. She smiles at the sight of you. She has a briefcase in one hand and that's all. She's as naked as you are, not that 'naked' means much when she has a soft fur coat to keep her warm.

You have one of those too, albeit a vulpine one only a fraction the size of her bountiful skunky tail. Your fur is short and brown-orange compared to her black, though you both have off-white bellies and chins.

Is she a lawyer? She's not a guard. They wear uniforms and carry truncheons. A skunk wouldn't need one of those, of course. She has her own natural chemical weaponry to fall back on. No one in his right mind threatens a skunk.

Definitely not a guard. "Don't worry hon. I've got the perfect escape route," she purrs. An electronic lock pick appears in her hand. She had it hidden in her tail. Who would dare root through a skunk's tail looking for contraband?

"Really? Wow! I don't know how to repay you?"

The lockpick buzzes, and you look past her at the door. If the guards catch her at it -

They don't. The lock clicks and the cell door pops open. Before you can say a word she's in the cell with you and has the briefcase open and a short crowbar in her hands. She knows exactly the wall block to lever out. It comes out so easily she must have done this many times before.

She chuckles. "Oh, its OK. I'll get my payment in a minute. Meanwhile, you squeeze through the hole while I keep the guard busy!"

She sweeps out of the cell with a flick as a tail as big as the rest of her put together. There's no time to waste. You contemplate the tunnel. It's hardly wider than your shoulders and squeezing your breasts and butt in there won't be easy.

"Hm, it's a bit small. Well, I think I can fit through."

She is already out the door but you keep talking anyway. Its been so long since you saw a friendly face. Sure enough, you barely manage to squeeze your shoulders into the hole.

"Ungh, this is a tight squeeze!" The narrow tunnel stretches on, and you crawl in. Cold rough stone presses in from all sides, but it's this or the cell. You keep going.

"I can't seen any light at all!" you mumble. Sure enough, your butt fills the narrow shaft like a cork in a bottle and your ass blocks out any light that might have made it this far in. "Where does this end?"

In the pitch black of the tunnel your reaching hand encounters a soft, slippery surface. "What's this? Must be rubber piping from here."

Your hand slips in easily enough, then the other, and you push forward, bracing your knees against the rough stone. Your muzzle follows your hands, the warm, slimy piping flattening your ears against your nape.

"Damn, but its wet in here. Ungh! And tight, too!"

But its the only escape route you have, and you force yourself deeper. In go your shoulders, then your breasts, popping free of the cold stone tunnel only to slither into this warm rubbery one.

The rubber piping is slimy and a revolting wet smell comes up the pipe to meet you as you wriggle deeper. Whatever straps or armatures support the pipe creak and stretch, and for a moment you wonder if the creaks and pops are the prelude to the pipe ripping loose from one end. It doesn't happen. The thing sags, but seems to somehow correct itself as the thick layer of slime coating the walls allows you to slither all the way to the waist.

You almost welcomed the warm smooth slide of rubber all around you when this started. It was a change from the rough stone blocks scraping you as you squeezed through the narrow escape tunnel. As you push yourself into the rubber pipe to the hips two things happen to change your opinion of this escape route.

The first is a series of sharp somethings jabbing you in the butt as the entry to the tube expands reluctantly to let your ass in. The second is even worse. Ahead of your muzzle your hands squeeze through a rubbery valve into a wet, sloshing place. Not only do the hot fluids there instantly sting your skin, but your outstretched fingers encounter only more rubber in all directions.

"Hey! This is a dead end! What gives?"

You don't expect an answer but you get one anyway. There is dizzying motion as the end of the rubber pipe around your hips comes loose from whatever supports it and somehow heaves itself upward. The slimy tube is now a steep slippery chute and even worse, the walls around you suddenly contact. A wave of pressure rolls over you, pulling you deeper.

"Eep! Hey, who turned on the suction?" But even as you ask, you realize what is happening. The sharp fangs digging into your ass scrape your fur as whatever creature was waiting, jaws agape at the end of the escape tunnel heaves its muzzle upward and swallows with all its might. Half of you is already inside it and your hands are in its stomach. With one great, heaving gulp it swallows you whole.

It's too late to fight, too late to save yourself. Coated with a thick layer of mucus that slicks you down for easy swallowing you slide down the thing's throat into a waiting belly. There is a long painful scrape of teeth as your hips, then thighs, then calves and finally your feet are pulled into the hungry maw by the relentless pull of swallowing muscles. You feel the smile as jaws close around your toes and just like that, you are gone. One moment you are a prisoner hoping to escape, the next you are food.

You feel the muscle and fur stretch tight around you as a swallowed vixen distends a midsection. Before you can regain your composure and struggle two strong hands squeeze the swollen belly. Even through the fur and slime you hear the gloating proclamation.

"I hereby pronounce sentence served... In full!" she giggles, and the pressure of her hands squeezes the flesh in tight around you. Most of the air leaves in a rush and from the wet spaces inside the predatory skunkette you hear the long, satiated belch.

"I'll get my payment in a minute," she'd said. Her plan was all too obvious now. Trick a desperate prisoner into crawling right down her throat. You were so anxious to get out of the bare stone cell that you ended up somewhere even worse.

"Erm...can I have an appeal?" The thin-stretched muscle and fur around don't quite block your words, but the only reply you get from the skunkette is a chuckle.

Digestive juices sting you all over, soaking through your fur and already burning your nose, eyes and pawpads. Not rubber, not rubber at all. It was flesh the whole time. As you mumble protests and begin what you know will be a doomed struggle, you feel the skunkette waddling forward. The enormous bulge in her gut makes it hard to walk but she must have some destination in mind. Some place to settle down and digest her meal.

After only twenty or so steps she sits down, then rolls onto her side with a satisfied sigh. From inside the sloshing, wobbling skunkette belly you work out her route. She went right back to your cell and lay on the bed. She's so gorged that her vixen-filled belly threatens to roll her off the narrow mattress. With a groan of effort she pushes the great bulge that is you against the wall and relaxes. The hard work is done. Now she can rest as you get a short trip through her digestive tract.

She must be working with the cops. They were tired of watching over a prisoner they weren't even allowed to talk to. Now they don't have to watch you any more. They just have to give the skunkette a day or two to deal with her meal.

The warm gurgle around you gets louder as more acid flows in. You try to kick, try to squirm, but the strong walls of her gut squeeze you into submission. There is no room to struggle with the wall and mattress squeezing her gut and her arms wrapped around the rest of it. Even if there were, it's impossible to get a grip on the slime-coated walls. More acid trickles in, drawn by the arrival of so much food.

You know what's going to happen now. Many was the time that you glanced at the bare metal toilet in your cell, imagining you could rip it up and escape into the sewers. And what do you know, that's exactly how you're going to get out of jail. You just didn't know you would have to make your way through a skunkette's plumbing before you got to the cell's, or that you'd look quite a bit different leaving the cell than when you went in.

With a final burp the skunkette settles down to sleep off her meal. The hot gurgling dark closes in, and you take your last breath of swallowed air. It won't be long now.

The moral of the story? There's no such thing as a free lunch. Or maybe there is, if your lunch is a prisoner the guards want to get rid of.