Maternal InstinctNSFW

Kharis Inaralei wiped his brow, pushing through the brush and gazing down at the valley below. It had been an arduous journey, riddled with danger, and it was only by some miracle that he had managed to avoid the myriad stomachs of the monsters and bandits on the way here. But at long last, the gleaming capital city Spiritscar was laid out before him like a child's playset. Here, his long, pointed ears and small size would not mark him as different and strange but as one of our own, a Varlyn just like us. Here, he would learn about the Varlene art that no magic teacher before had been able to explain to him regardless of ancestry - the Spellform.

And here, perhaps... he would finally learn who his parents were. Why they abandoned him on foreign soil with nothing but a name and a blanket. Did they mean for him to seek them out?

"I'm coming," Kharis murmured, gazing down at the city below. He drew his blades, gazing at his own serious reflection in them. "I hope you'll be proud of me."

...

But to learn all of that, he was going to need money. And to earn money, he was going to need to do some odd jobs. Fortunately, there was never any shortage of work for someone who could handle the dangerous wildlife that roamed the lands outside the barriers.

Today, for example, he was headed to a home in the Grove district. The requestor's name was Syndra, and she needed a rare medicine for her child. Which probably meant either gathering some kind of herbs from monster-infested forests, or cutting some medicinal organ out of a monster's innards. He dearly hoped it was the former; he rather disliked being in contact with monster innards, in no small part because of how many monster innards he'd been nearly stuffed inside.

The little baby-blue cottage with the vegetable garden out front wasn't hard to find. Syndra's instructions were clear and thorough, even for him as an outsider to the city. He knocked twice. "I'm here about the request you posted."

"Ah! Perfect! Come in, come in!" a warm, gentle voice called from inside. "The door is open!"

The door is... open? Kharis's eyebrows raised. People here are so trusting... back home, that would be a good way to get robbed. Or worse.

Still, he opened the door, stepping inside and closing it behind himself. "I hope that means I'm in time."

Syndra was a brunette with three simple metal rings in each ear, wearing a rumpled and stained apron over a simple white linen top. She stood over a tiny stove, an unusually pale flame dancing beneath a boiling pot that Syndra leisurely stirred. She was half a head taller than him; it reminded him of the older girl who had looked after the younger kids at the orphanage back home.

"There is plenty of time. But Nymie will be happy to know you are here, and that she will get relief from her manaemia soon," Syndra said, sizing him up with a critical eye. "I know you adventurers always have more things to do, but you are welcome to sit down and eat if you like. I've made enough for ten, and you look starved."

Kharis glanced at the bubbling radish soup. It smelled nice, and he'd struggled to eat enough on the journey over. Still... "I'd love to stay, but I need to make it back to the hostelry with the rest of the money by early this afternoon or I'll lose my claim on their last room."

"Tsk... well, there will be leftovers when you return, then," Syndra clucked, returning her attention to the pot. "Down to business, then. I'll need twenty jade cloves, three vials of eccialantro seeds..."

Relief filled Kharis's heart. A gathering outing! Oh, this will be nice.

"... and the heart of a silver-eyed rat. All ingredients have to be fresh, but the heart especially so. If you can get two, I'll pay extra."

... never mind. Kharis grimaced. Hunting rats was never fun - they didn't particularly like showing themselves - but at least a silver-eyed rat didn't sound large enough for him to be swallowed by it. Though he'd thought that about the pixies too, and they had very nearly been the end of his adventure...

"Mommy!" a small voice called from another room. "Mommyyy! It hurts again!"

"Aawwwhh, poor little Nymie needs to go back in her mommy's gurgling belly," Syndra called back. "You'll have to wait, darling, mommy's talking to someone who's going to help!"

Kharis blanched, thinking of poor little Nymie being shoved into guts not unlike the ones Kharis himself had been crammed into. What kind of mother eats her child for crying out in pain? ... I can't think about this right now. I need money first.

He let it go and nodded, heading for the door again. "I'll be sure to make it quick, then. I'll be back as soon as I can."

Finding silver-eyed rats ended up being a lot easier than Kharis had feared. Unfortunately, that was mainly because they came up to his waist. And if they couldn't swallow him whole, they didn't seem to know it. Fighting off the pack he'd inadvertently alerted had left him exhausted, and it had taken so long for him to shake them he'd missed his deadline with the hostelry. And now it was raining, and he was drenched...

He trudged back into the little cottage with his prizes in tow, wearily sitting down at the chair Syndra pulled out for him. "I got three of the hearts."

"Goodness! You look like you've been through it," Syndra said, her soft laugh putting him at ease. She reached out, accepting his hard-fought prizes and setting them in the cauldron she'd taken out. "Let me take those and I can begin the brewing process. And while it brews, I can heat some of the soup for you, as an extra reward for all your hard work. It will do you good, just as it did Nymie."

"... You didn't really eat her, did you?" Kharis asked warily, remembering the scene from before he left.

Turning away from the pot of soup on the stove, Syndra raised her eyebrows at him. "What sort of mother do you take me for? Of course I did."

Shock. Spluttering. "Wh- But- Then- What- what was all this for? If you were just going to eat her..."

Syndra tilted her head. "... Whatever do you mean? My belly can help her feel better for a little while, but it can't cure manaemia." At Kharis's clear confusion, Syndra pulled out another chair and sat opposite him. "Ah... I see. You're not from Varlene lands, are you?"

"... No," Kharis admitted. "I was raised at an Atherese orphanage. I don't know anything but that I am a Varlyn, and that the strange mistakes I make with magic are from inadvertently doing something called a Spellform. And I don't even know what that is."

"Ah, that is good to know. A Spellform is a sort of... mmm..." Syndra tipped her head back. "Think of all the different ways that an image of someone can be created. Paints, charcoals, carvings, sculptures, poetry, storytelling, even music. Each has a language of its own, with its own strengths and weaknesses, yes? Each can express different parts of the artist's relationship to the subject."

Kharis tilted his head. He wasn't much of an artist; survival had taken up too much of his time. "... I guess."

"So, Spellforms are like that, for spells. A portrayal of the same subject in another medium. It changes the nature of the spell, the relationship it depicts, without changing its subject. It is a great power. Most others can only paint, but we Varlyns can paint and sculpt and sing."

"What does this have to do with you eating your daughter alive?" Kharis blurted out.

A burst of laughter bubbled out of Syndra. "Do you really think I would so casually harm her?"

Kharis stared at her, skeptical. To be honest, I don't really know you... maybe you would.

After a moment, Syndra answered her own question. "No. I would never. She's sleeping peacefully in the other room."

"So... then..."

"Many spells are a trade of our own strength, our mana, for something to be created in the world around us," Syndra explained, taking her hands up to her chest and spreading them out wide. "A simple Spellform that most Varlyn learn from a young age is Absorption, reversing the relationship. To take something that happens to us and turn it into our strength." She pulled her hands back in to her chest, cradling them in close.

"And even the most novice spellcaster is taught a spell to create a splash of acid," Kharis murmured. It was one he'd barely practiced with, personally - even at that age he'd had more than enough contact with acid.

"Indeed. It's no cure, but it can ease the suffering from manaemia immensely to have such a ready source of mana. It can do a great deal to help ease other types of pain, too," Syndra said fondly. "Swallowing up a child who has just been hurt is a common part of Varlene culture, especially among its mothers. Being given a safe place to hide and rest while you soothe your hurts... Really, spending time in another's body is a common form of affection between lovers and friends as well as family. It's such a fundamental part of growing up as a Varlyn, as casual an act of love as a hug or a kiss in other cultures. It is truly a shame that you never got to experience this for yourself."

She sounded genuinely sad on Kharis's behalf. He didn't really get it, but he felt sad, too. Why? He hated being in stomachs.

An ache gnawed at Kharis's chest, and he fell silent. Of course - this was the childhood he'd been denied. It was nice to hear about it, but...

"By the way, I never did learn your name," Syndra said, ladling out a bowl of soup from the stove and setting it in front of him.

"Oh- right. Kharis. Kharis Inaralei."

Syndra looked taken aback for a moment, pausing there before sitting back down. "... I do apologize. You mean to say that is your name? Kharis Inaralei?"

A rush of hope surged through Kharis, washing that ache away. Could it be? Had he accidentally stumbled on someone who knew his name on his first day in Spiritscar? "Y-Yes! Are you familiar?"

Syndra smiled at him sympathetically. "It is a prayer in Old Varlene. It means something like... 'May Inara forgive me.'"

Nope. The ache returned in force, twice as intense. He looked away, staring through the floor.

"Or more literally, 'I offer my sin to Inara,' Inara being the goddess of life in Varlene custom," Syndra continued, oblivious to his carefully-masked feelings. "It is not exactly an auspicious name to give a child... Your adoptive parents gave that name to you?"

"It was tucked into the blanket with me," Kharis said numbly. He swallowed hard, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a piece of folded, well-worn paper, carefully preserved by an enchanter back home. "The woman who- who found me paid a translator to tell her what it said. She figured it was a name. But it wasn't a name after all. It was just an apology - not even to me, but to some goddess."

A hand landed on his shoulder. It was warm and soft, nothing like the cruel, cold touch of the woman who ran the orphanage.

Syndra moved her chair over beside him, putting her arm around him with tender care.

He held still. Being touched this way by an unfamiliar woman was certainly new, but... it felt nice.

"It is not quite so simple as an apology. Imagine for a moment that you are a young child, playing with your friends in the forest. You throw the ball as high as you can. It hits a bird's nest, and a baby bird falls out of the nest and lands on the ground, and its wing is broken." Syndra murmured. "You pick up the little bird, but you can't get it back up there no matter how hard you try. You know that the life in your hands is precious, you know that it is in danger because of you, but you know it is beyond your power to fix."

Kharis glanced over at her. Though that particular mistake was one he'd never been in danger of making, he could feel the sincerity of her words. The steadiness of her breathing was calming.

Syndra reached over and picked up the paper with her free hand, unfolding it and carefully smoothing it flat on the table. "You bring the little bird to your mother, and you apologize over and over and beg her to fix it. This is the emotion that kharis Inaralei conveys. A deep remorse... the desperate desire for something or someone to live and be cared for, even though its present predicament is your fault."

"So... I was a mistake she couldn't care for," Kharis suggested darkly. Still, he felt somehow comforted by the story despite himself.

"I can't know who your mother was or what she was going through," Syndra mused. She pushed the paper toward Kharis. "But... in some way, yes. Maybe she was sick. Maybe she was wounded in giving birth, and dying from it. Maybe she was too poor to afford to feed and clothe you. Maybe she was pursued by people who meant her harm, afraid they would take you away from her. I imagine that tucking that prayer into your blanket was her last effort to make sure you grew up strong by begging anyone who would listen to make sure it happened. No mother would invoke kharis Inaralei over a child she simply didn't want. Giving you up was probably the hardest thing she could have done. I was wrong to say what I did - it is a gift to your mother to wear that last gesture of love as your name."

Kharis shook his head slowly, robotically picking up the bowl and lifting it toward his face. He hesitated before sipping it. "I hoped I would find her here. My mother, I mean. Or at least find a clue to where she is."

Syndra gave him a sad smile, but said nothing as he began drinking.

"The soup is delicious, by the way," Kharis said, slurping more enthusiastically. "Thanks for this."

This made Syndra brighten up a bit. "It's a recipe my own mother passed down to me, you know. The perfect soup for a rainy day, literal or metaphorical. I can pass it along to you, too. Nymie is still a little young to be cooking, but she helps around the kitchen. Perhaps tonight?"

Musing over this a few moments as he finished up the soup, Kharis set his bowl down. He'd made his decision. "Could you teach me more about Spellforms, too? Like you would for Nymie?"

Syndra's smile was broad and genuine now. "It would be my pleasure."

Curling up on the sofa Syndra had provided, listening to the softly bubbling potion as it brewed in the kitchen, Kharis tried his best to get comfortable. He would have clean and dry and mended clothes by the next day courtesy of Syndra's Spellforms, but he was in the nude now, just wrapped up in the blanket he'd carried with him on his travels.

It is truly a shame that you never got to experience this for yourself.

... as casual an act of love as a hug or a kiss...

A safe place to hide and rest while you soothe your hurts...

... my own mother passed down to me...

Kharis's mind wandered. He thought about what it must have been like for Nymie being eaten by Syndra. What was it like for her, being tucked away in Syndra's belly? Kneeling in the still-hot soup Syndra had eaten earlier... Curled up inside her...

His eyes closed. Listening to the burbling of the cauldron's contents as it brewed, feeling his legs strain against the blanket he'd wrapped around himself... he could almost imagine what it would be like.

It was probably disgusting in there, like it was in any creature's body. Perhaps Varlyns were fools, or perhaps they all had strange preferences.

His sleepy mind wandered, and for a few moments, he could imagine himself as a child Nymie's age, coming home crying. He was so weak and aching, the condition he now understood as manaemia wracking his body, and Syndra picked him up and held him and gradually slid him down her throat...

... no, that wouldn't be comfortable, his conscious brain protested. It would be horrible. Slimy and sticky, tight and hot...

But her speaking softly around him... her steady breathing at his ear...

Slowly, slowly... his exhaustion took over, and he fell asleep, images of the motherly woman's belly in his mind.

Though the trail of his family had gone completely cold, Kharis had at least accomplished one of the things he'd come here to do: he'd found someone from whom he could learn about Spellforms. Syndra taught him to master Induction, the Spellform most closely matching the way that other spellcasters used magic - then, with the same patience she showed Nymie every time the girl came about asking questions or showing off a new spell, she began teaching him the basics of Absorption.

And in return, Kharis kept the materials for Nymie's manaemia treatments coming. It would take two to three months of weekly treatment for the manaemia to subside, depending on how deeply she suffered from it, so he at least had a place to sleep and food to eat for that long.

Not to mention a family to come home to.

"Like this, right?" Kharis asked, carefully digging furrows in the sand around Nymie's little sandcastle at the bank of the river.

"Yeah! But you gotta dig 'em real deep, okay? Cause if the moat is too small it'll fill up and spill all over the castle!" Nymie had told him authoritatively. "And then you get all the alley gators in the house. And that's not allowed. Alley gators gotta stay outside."

Nymie reached over, scooping a bucket full of river water and enthusiastically dumping it on the "moat" - and on the castle. "Oh no!! The castle's full of alley gators! We gotta get them all out!" She put her bucket over the castle, dragging it away and dumping it in the river. "Oh no... the alley gators got the whole castle... It's gone..."

"We'll have to rebuild it twice as big." Kharis laughed, glancing over his shoulder at Syndra. "Your daughter might be a better teacher than you, by the way."

"Truly, the best thing any mother can hear - for her child to surpass her," Syndra said with a giggle. "I must have raised her right, then."

Day by day, he and Nymie had slowly become study-buddies, the little Varlyn girl teaching him what she knew as best she could between bed rest and regular visits to her mother's stomach to soothe her symptoms.

And Kharis found himself entranced by those visits. Every time he and Syndra chatted with Nymie inside her, he couldn't help glancing down at Syndra's belly. Thinking about how there was a person in there - a person who was in there by choice, because it made her feel better. And both of them were so casual about it.

He started noticing the bellies of other Varlyns around Spiritscar, his eyes drawn inexorably to them. They were more common than he'd realized; the young woman stocking her stall at the market, the kindly older man behind the counter at the library. People he would perhaps have thought of as pregnant before now consumed his full attention. Not talking to themselves but to their passengers. It was everywhere around him, and he'd never noticed.

And every time he saw another bloated belly, he thought of Syndra. Of the way her hands touched her stomach so delicately. Of her patient, private discussions with her daughter as she cleaned the dishes after another shared meal. Watching her get comfortable on the sofa, cradling her gut in her lap with a book in her hands.

He kept his thoughts to himself, of course, but oh, how those thoughts grew and multiplied in the shadows of his mind... Until even flat - or at least as flat as it got, still soft and rounded and paunchy even without Nymie's help - Syndra's stomach occupied his mind.

And his gaze.

"You're staring," Syndra informed him with that playful, almost-flirty smile. "Did I spill something down my front?"

Kharis returned his attention to Syndra's face with a slight shake of his head. "Er- no. I'm just lost in thought."

"Mm. I understand. It does seem to happen to you with some frequency. Much to think about, I imagine." Syndra's eyes probed over him, still sparkling with a mischievous glint. She nudged her plate to the side. "Tell me, Kharis - how are you feeling about your practice with Absorption? I think you've learned about all I can teach now. And Nymie seems satisfied with what she taught you, too."

"Absorption?" Honestly, he hadn't been paying that much attention to their lessons recently, and he'd fallen off his practice recently with more requests to fulfill. But it seemed insulting, ungrateful to tell her that after everything she'd done for him. "Oh, you've taught me so much! Not to mention feeding me and giving me a place to stay - I can't describe my gratitude. I never thought I'd get to learn from a master like that. I feel so much stronger, more confident - it's been like making up for lost time."

A crooked smile spread across Syndra's face. She reached across the table, rubbing his arm. "I'm glad. Then there's one more thing I want to do for you."

"Ah? You are too kind as ever, Syndra," Kharis said, returning the grin. "I don't know what I would have done if not for you."

"Close your eyes," Syndra instructed, getting up and walking around the table to stand in front of him. "And relax. Focus on how you feel."

Obediently, Kharis closed his eyes and let his focus go to his body. He could feel the soft cushion underneath him, the hard back of the chair...

Warm, soft lips kissed his forehead tenderly, and a tight embrace wrapped him up. His heart raced. Syndra was so close... her body heat was spilling into him, putting him at ease... The quiet intimacy of the moment made his erection strain against his pants. He ached to be touched more. Kissed more.

He felt himself being lifted out of the chair. Held effortlessly in the air, like a child's stuffed doll. Reflex made him reach to embrace her in return, but she shushed him - "It's okay, shhh, shhh... Just relax, Kharis, let me do this for you."

Trusting in her strength, he let himself go limp in her grasp. And sure enough, she did not drop him. His weight shifted between her arms as she steadied herself. Another delicate kiss brushed his forehead, leaving tingling desire in its wake.

A low sigh through Syndra's nose ruffled his hair.

The next thing he felt was Syndra's tongue on his forehead, probing its way down his face. An ecstatic moan bubbled up from the depths of her throat.

He was so caught up in his meditative state that he didn't react at first. It was just another sensation. A warm and wet kiss slithering its way down his head. And by the time he finally realized what was happening, it was too late - Syndra's tongue pressed under his chin and oh-so-tenderly shoved his head down her throat, trapping him in the tight, squeezing passage.

"Mmph?!" Kharis strained against Syndra's grasp, his arms flailing to try to get a grip on her--

Syndra tightened her grasp again, rendering him powerless against the taller woman's strength. A scolding sound came from the depths of her throat, followed by a soothing, calming breath of a sound. "Mm-mm... Mmm~..."

His reflexes, his fear of stomachs made him continue to fight her. But struggling was useless. No matter how he strained against her embrace, he couldn't break it - couldn't pull his head out of her throat, couldn't get her to drop him. And it sounded like every struggle was hurting her.

Reluctantly, he relaxed again. His heart was pounding like crazy now. He had no real choice but to go the rest of the way down to her belly. He was completely at her mercy.

At least once he was still again, she was as gentle as if she'd never stopped. Her hand stroked his back comfortingly as her arms fed him down her throat. She stopped at his waist, tenderly unbuckling his trousers and sliding them off him along with his boots. And as she ran her hands over his bare lower body, her touch found his erection.

Humiliation surged in him, and he curled up embarrassedly as she giggled quietly around him. Of course, he couldn't stop her from caressing it, fondling it - she didn't seem upset by its presence, just entertained by it. And she treated it with an almost reverent tenderness even as she toyed with it, teasing along the shaft with her fingertips.

Against his better judgment, he found himself relaxing into the movements of her hands. His cock twitched under her fingertips. He ached to direct her, to beg her for more, but he couldn't speak clearly with his head trapped inside her.

Still, even that was freeing in its way. He was helpless. Powerless. And that meant he could make no mistakes. All he needed do was trust in her and let go.

It was ultimately the pressure of her tongue underneath his shaft that finally pushed him over the edge, and he came harder than he ever had in his life as he was being swallowed alive, with his tip pointing down her throat, his greatest nightmares and his greatest fantasies mixing so powerfully it made him dizzy.

His head had passed down her throat, behind her collarbone, beneath those soft, plush breasts that he'd often watched Nymie lay her head on. And he was sticky with her saliva and his own cum and his arms were pinned by his sides and she still held his legs...

But still he didn't fight her. He couldn't fight her. He couldn't hurt her, not when she'd done so much for him, when this was a gift she wanted to give him... a gift that maybe, somewhere deep inside him, he was ecstatic to receive...

Swallow by heavy swallow, lick by tender lick, she pulled him down inside of herself, wrapped him up in her body... Pressed his flesh into the mess of acidic juices and chewed-up rabbit meat that had been waiting there, the pleasant aroma of her dinner still lingering here inside of her despite everything...

"uuuuuUrp, phew... You're a bit bigger than Nymie, but I knew you'd fit just fine if you stopped struggling," Syndra cooed around him, her hands wandering across his body.

"Wait... wait, l-Let me out," Kharis whimpered. "Syndra...!"

Syndra chuckled affectionately. One of her hands rubbed his head gently. "Kharis, it's all right. Just relax. I'm not going to hurt you - I'm just going to hold you. You've studied well. Don't be afraid, okay? Remember your carvings. Patiently carve those channels in yourself and let the energy flow into you."

She seemed so... at ease with the whole thing. How? He was in her stomach. Other food she'd eaten was right there - he recoiled as he realized he was counting himself as her food. If he messed this up, he was in for a long, slow digestion, just like this rabbit meat.

Only unlike the rabbit, he'd be conscious the whole time.

He strained against her walls, and she grunted, carefully embracing him through the stomach walls and rubbing along his arms. "Nf- Shhhh, shh shh... Kharis, it's okay. It's okay, just calm down and relax. For these moments, you are mine. You can be at ease. I'll hold you safe and warm for as long as you need me to."

And he... calmed. He relaxed. She could make anything sound appealing with that warm, buttery-soft voice that dripped over him like the unspeakable fluids in this chamber.

So he concentrated. He envisioned the image of acid in his mind, etched the channels for it to flow into...

And as he did, a strange warmth seeped into him. The acid - he was absorbing the acid. For the first time, he was in a belly and he was truly safe. No, more than safe. Warm, full, alive in ways he couldn't quite explain.

He was still trapped. He was still dripping with fluids of all kinds. But... it was all worth it for this feeling.

"There's a good boy - I knew you were enjoying it," Syndra teased, fondling between his legs affectionately.

"Hey, don't get the wrong idea, I- I'm not enjoying it that much," Kharis mumbled, flushed. "It's a- a natural response..."

Syndra burst into laughter, patting him affectionately. "A natural response, hmmm? To being turned on by being inside a beautiful woman's body, perhaps? Don't be so embarrassed. You've missed out all this time... I saw the way you stared, I knew you were waiting for this moment. And so was I. I wanted to be sure that you had some time to enjoy yourself. I'll clean up from dinner. You let me know when you're ready to be released."

"Thank you," Kharis breathed. "Sincerely... thank you."

Syndra didn't answer, but Kharis could imagine her pretty smile.

The sensation of the Acid Absorption was so unusual. Like a gentle tickling on the spot where it splashed against him. The same way he felt after Syndra had kissed him. It was a satisfaction and yet a longing for more, a blend of desire and fulfillment...

His cock tingled with it, too, bobbing up and poking into the stomach wall unbidden before he could stop it.

"If you happen to have any other natural responses, feel free to indulge them," Syndra joked from around him. "I don't mind."

Embarrassment flooded Kharis's body - of course she responded to that immediately... But he couldn't deny that he was turned on already. And as Syndra moved, as her belly bounced delicately with every step, his arousal only grew.

So he hunched over, letting the acid splash over him and be absorbed into him. Letting himself soak in it. Reveling in the feeling of revitalization that came along with every slosh of it. Grabbed his length and stroked.

And he came again.

And when he came down from the high, he went again, groaned with need and pumped his hand along his length without so much as a break.

And again, and again, until he was mindlessly humping the wall of Syndra's stomach as it sloshed and gurgled back against him, lost in the bliss of it all while Syndra herself was folding laundry, laughing tenderly. "If you're having that much fun in there, I think I'll keep you overnight."

"Er... wait, well..."

"Hmmm~? You want to get out?"

Something did make him want to leave, but at the same time... he was dizzy with ecstasy, tingling with bliss from every pore, how could he say no to an opportunity to stay here longer?

"Nnn... Never mind," Kharis said, desire resonating in his words. "I want you to keep me tonight."

"All right, then, I suppose I'll get you out in the morning," Syndra said with that warm smile in her voice. "Don't let all that mana convince you not to sleep in there! You'll still need your rest, you know."

So it was that as the night fell, as Syndra settled down to rest and turned the world on its side, spilled the acid over him, Kharis lay awake inside her. He was exhausted. But he felt so pleasant he almost didn't care.

Still... staying awake and continuing his "self-love" would no doubt wake Syndra, and he didn't want to disturb her rest. Maybe it would be better to just rest in here, too...

He pushed his head up, leaning against Syndra's breasts through the stomach wall. A pillow of sorts. Comfortable as well as stimulating... it truly was miraculous what Absorption was capable of.

Memories of that night two months ago, the sounds of the cauldron, the tightness of the blanket and his wild imagination of what it would feel like. The pool of acid felt like a warm blanket now, enveloping his legs and body up to the neck... the walls wrapped around him close, kept him safe from all that was outside. The burbling of Syndra's belly was a slower, goopier sound than that of the boiling potion. And Syndra's breathing wasn't at his ear, as he'd envisioned, but all around him, her thumping heartbeat telling him it's okay, it's okay to rest, just relax and let me take care of everything.

His eyelids grew heavy. The quiet song of her body was a better lullaby than any of the ones he'd heard her singing to Nymie.

Despite all his fear of bellies, Syndra's body was the most peaceful place he could think of having ever been...

Choose your path:
› If you want Kharis to get out, skip ahead to the section beginning with "The following morning".
› If you want Kharis to begin digesting immediately, skip ahead to the section beginning with "It was still night".
› If you want Kharis to stay inside Syndra longer before deciding his fate, continue below.

It wasn't morning when Kharis woke up; he knew that because Syndra was out and about, in the midst of a conversation with someone else, and she never left her home before doing the morning chores and making lunch for Nymie.

It really was absolutely mindblowing how comfortable he felt inside Syndra. He could see now why Nymie fussed and complained when it was time for her to get out. Of course, as an experienced adult spellcaster, his stamina for this sort of thing was much greater than hers. At least, he thought so. That was how it worked with most things.

He was still so tired, though. He felt like he hadn't rested - truly rested - in ages, and now at last there was a safe place for him to do it. A sweet-smelling scent - some sort of syrup? - had come to accompany him, and he could feel small blobs of soft, chewed-up material. From the smell... marmalade and pancakes?

Tuning into Syndra's conversation, he gradually realized she was talking about Nymie's condition. "... worried about her, but she's a tough kid. And she's not the first Varlyn to suffer from manaemia at this age. Now that she's getting treatments, she's recovering fast, even if she hates the taste."

"... treatments... weekly, which... costly... can help..." Her friend's voice was so muffled and distant. He could only make out a few words here and there between gurgles and bluorps. "... your own?"

"We're not on our own, not like we were back when she first got diagnosed. We have you and Aithlin, and- actually, the biggest difference has been that now there's an adventurer who has been helping by making sure we can get all the ingredients fresh. He's been watching Nymie sometimes, too. I really don't know what I'd do without him."

Kharis couldn't hear her friend's response, but he could tell it was a joke or tease of some kind, because Syndra burst into peals of laughter that shook his prison. He was weak, sleepy, but her joy filled him with joy, too.

"No, no. Well - maybe. He is cute. I just want to hold him close and take care of him. You know? He's been through a lot."

"... venture... they all... tragic..."

Syndra snorted. "Then someone should take care of all of them. This one stumbled into my arms, and he's saving my daughter so much pain, so he's my responsibility to take care of. You can take care of as many or as few as you want."

There was muffled laughter from the other end of the conversation. "... happy you're..."

"Thanks. This is him, actually," Syndra said, rubbing the top of her stomach. "I think he's still asleep - he's been in there for sixteen hours or so? He's been through a lot lately on my behalf. Giving him some time to rest is the least I could do, really."

There was definitely a questioning tone to the words under that faint bubbling noise from Syndra's bowels. Kharis couldn't make out what the question was, though.

"No, no. That wasn't the plan. He's just enjoying himself. It's his first time, you know?"

"... for six... wants..."

"I'll keep that in mind if he does ask for it," Syndra replied with a chuckle. "Really, though, I have to get back to shopping - you know Aithlin and little Nymie are going to get up to some trouble if I leave them alone too long. Honestly, it's a question of which is more mature! It was nice seeing you, in any case."

Kharis waited a few moments before venturing to speak, lifting his head slightly above the pool of digestive fluids. "If I ask for what?"

"For me to digest you."

Kharis considered this. The term didn't carry nearly as much fearful weight now that he'd been in here this long, but it was still scary. "To... digest me?"

"It's all right, Kharis. I'm not going to digest you," Syndra assured him. Her fingertips caressed her belly delicately, and a tease entered her voice. "If I wanted that, I wouldn't have been siphoning mana off you so you don't get overfull and start to melt. I wouldn't let you melt, not even by accident. I'm always watching over you while you're in there."

A flush entered Kharis's cheeks - he'd already stayed too long, but Syndra had saved his life without letting him out, and this whole time she was watching over him...

"Using me for mana, hmmm?" Kharis asked, hamming up the pout in his voice to duck his embarrassment. "I thought you were doing something nice for me."

"Oh, don't you make me regret my decision," Syndra teased. "Really, when I said I'd hold you as long as you needed me to, I meant it. You've been through so much. Let me be your sanctuary for a few days. A few weeks, maybe."

"A few weeks!" Kharis exclaimed, straining his weary muscles to sit upright. "Th-there's no way I'll want to stay that long... And Nymie needs her medicine, and-"

"Mmm, so you say." Syndra's playful grin came through in her tone. "But I mean it - rest. You've been breaking your back for my sake. And now I've saved up enough money from the market proceeds of the extra ingredients you got - the same money you refused - to afford to commission other adventurers for a few weeks. You just tell me when you're ready to get out. Time may pass a little differently in there. It's not unusual."

Kharis scoffed, laying his head back. "I... highly doubt that."

...

But Syndra was not lying. One day turned into three. Three turned into a week. He slept through an entire day in the second week. His body was crammed half into her intestines and half into her belly, and still he was so comfortable he could not imagine getting out.

There was an intimacy to cuddling up in here, tucked away in Syndra's body and tagging along to be part of everything she did. When she cooked for herself and her daughter, when she ate her other meals, when she cleaned the little cottage, when she tended the garden, when she brewed her potions, when she met with friends, when she played with Nymie, when she went for walks.

And, of course, when she slept.

"Mmm, another good day, Kharis... Good night," Syndra murmured, and he could hear her snuggling into position.

Kharis raised his voice to ask. "How long have I...?"

"It's been about two and a half weeks," Syndra said with a soft giggle. "Thinking of getting out now?"

"Mmm... I dunno," Kharis mumbled, a silly grin on his face. "Can't I just stay here forever?"

Syndra chuckled and patted her belly. "No, you cannot. Eventually you'll have to get out - even a Varlyn cannot live on absorbed mana alone, you know. Eventually, you'll start to feel hungry again."

"Oh, I see." Settling back into place, Kharis wondered if Syndra felt hungry.

He wondered... what would happen if he simply...

... released his connection to the Spellform. Then he could stay "forever", couldn't he?

Dangerous thoughts... he was going to have to talk about those in the morning. For now... he was so cozy, and her steady breathing was there to lull him back to sleep...

Choose your path:
› If you want Kharis to get out, skip ahead to the section beginning with "The following morning".
› If you want Kharis to end up staying "forever", continue below.

It was still night when Kharis next awoke, judging by the steady breathing and slow heartbeat all around him. Something was off, and because it was an absence rather than an unexpected presence, it took him a long time to realize.

No longer did the caress of the acid feel nice. It didn't really feel... anything at all, honestly. He thought at first that he'd simply acclimated to it, but... he couldn't feel the Spellform anymore.

Had he lost his concentration from not practicing enough? Or...

... or was there a part of him that wanted this?

He couldn't lie to himself. The idea of melting away inside the beautiful, kindly woman, the woman who had tried so hard to take care of him... there was a strange sort of appeal to it...

But- wait! There was still so much he needed to accomplish! He needed to be whole for that! What was he thinking?

It couldn't just... end here, could it?!

He cried out for Syndra... but no voice came out. Only a long, low grooooooan.

"Mmh... relax, Kharis... it's fine," Syndra murmured. "I'll take care of you..."

Relief surged through Kharis. Syndra would know how to get him out of here now! He cried out more and more, but all he could hear was more gurgling, more sloshing sounds... His muscles didn't seem to work at all, and he was starting to panic.

"Just ten more minutes... ten more minutes... mmh... you're all mine... ehehe... enjoying yourself...? Mmh..."

What is she saying?! Kharis thought, panic rising in him. Is she going to let me melt now?!

... But of course. Her breathing was still so regular - she was still asleep. She'd never woken up to begin with. He was alone.

Her stomach was not idle; it seemingly knew that its long-awaited dinner had finally given up. Or perhaps it had always been grinding him down this hard, and he'd never noticed while he was still solid?

Still... being churned into stew like this, like any other of the dinners Syndra had eaten... it felt sort of nice, paradoxically. It was one of the few sensations he could still make sense of. And it was pleasurable.

He could feel ecstasy rising in him one last time as the churning mercilessly ground him down to the point where he was unrecognizable, even to himself. Until he had no body that he could feel.

His thoughts became more and more fragmented. I'm so glad it was you...

I was so scared of being digested alive, but...

If it's you... I...

The pleasure rose up and swallowed him whole, and he never finished that last thought.

Choose your path:
› If you want Syndra to bring Kharis back, skip ahead to the section beginning with "Time had lost all meaning".
› If you want Kharis's story to end on Syndra's waistline, continue below.

Syndra awoke the next morning to a pleasant fullness, a satisfying weight in her belly. She felt so much warmer and heavier than most mornings - like she'd slept so much better. Like she was full of new mana...

It didn't take long for her to figure out what it meant; she'd known this was a possibility, especially with an inexperienced Spellformer. And he'd stayed longer than any novice would ever choose to.

"So, you were that comfortable, hmm?" Syndra murmured, rolling out of bed and setting her bare feet on the cold floor. She stood and stretched languorously, raising her arms up over her head. "Mmmh... I normally wouldn't permit any permanent guests, you know."

Trotting to the small bathtub, she held her hand over it, channeling some of the fresh mana in her system into a simple Water Induction through her fingertips. A stream of hot water rained down, splashing around in the empty tub before beginning to fill it up.

Yes, it was clear - this power was not hers. It was not borrowed from the young man who had absorbed it from the acids.

It was his final offering to her, given in a way that it could never be returned. All that was left of his strength was hers now.

"A pity to lose you, but... perhaps it's better this way," Syndra considered to herself. She cut the stream of power and with it the stream of water, and began sliding her nightgown over her head. She slipped out of her panties, too, leaving them on the ground. They were already damp - she vaguely remembered that she'd had a wet dream of intimacy with Kharis the night before. "You would not have been satisfied staying here with Nymie and me. And watching you go would have been far harder than keeping you like this."

Climbing into the tub of hot water (and finding it spilling all over the place), Syndra settled down, letting her fingers find her nethers to release some of that pent-up excitement. As she caressed herself with two leisurely fingers, she glanced out at the water that had spilled out of the tub - she'd displaced a fair bit more of it than usual.

"You're going to make me get new clothes, aren't you?" Syndra asked her paunch playfully. She already knew the answer, of course. The bath made it a bit easier, but her breasts felt so heavy on her chest; her thighs squeezed in the bottom of the tub in a way they hadn't ever done before. "Perhaps I'll have to ask Halaema to do some Emendation on my wardrobe..."

A content sigh escaped her lips. She didn't truly care about her clothes right now. Right now, just indulging herself was most important. Perhaps that was Kharis's last request - that she enjoy herself as she processed him.

Perhaps not. Perhaps this had all been a mistake, a natural consequence of the boy's unfamiliarity with Spellforms. He'd seemed so confident, but then, he wouldn't be the first to overestimate himself around a beautiful girl.

He wouldn't even be the first to overestimate himself around Syndra in particular.

She'd have to tell Nymie, of course. And perhaps, as Nymie grew, she'd have her own accidents here and there. Accidental digestion was just as much a part of Varlyn culture as eating each other.

"Making up for lost time, indeed," Syndra mused to herself. She tipped her head back, letting herself get completely lost in the fantasy but for one last thought directed at her prey.

Welcome to my little family, Kharis. I hope you're as happy to be here as we are to have you.

⁂ END

The following morning came too soon for Kharis. He was still waking up as his comfortable bed abruptly began ejecting him, pushing him up and out.

"Out" here meant a round metal bathtub filled with warm, soapy water. He splashed down into it face-first, quickly turning himself right-side up and spluttering and gasping in air. The adrenaline of being dropped unexpectedly into water helped wake him up - as well as the gross taste of soap on his tongue.

"You could have warned me, you know," Kharis said, spitting suds. "Blech..."

Syndra crouched beside the tub, splashing some more water on him with her outstretched fingertips. "And miss out on the adorable faces you're making? Never!"

They looked at each other and laughed.

Kharis settled down further into the tub, letting the warmth wrap around him. "This feels nice... thoughtful of you to get one of these ready."

"It's part of our culture," Syndra said, resting her arms on the lip of the tub and gazing at him, her eyes flicking down him. "It's good hospitality to let your visitor out easy."

Kharis pressed his thighs together. "And, ah... is it also good hospitality to stare at your visitor's... you know?"

Syndra grinned. "No. That part I'm doing because I like you." She burst into laughter as Kharis covered his face. "Kharis, that's been inside me, along with alllll the rest of you. You fucked my stomach walls with it - quite enthusiastically, I might add. You don't have to hide it from me."

"Are- Are all Varlyn women this forward?" Kharis muttered, ears burning.

Syndra tilted her head to the side, looking at him sideways. "It would be silly of me to let a man like you slip through my fingers. But if my forwardness is off-putting..."

Kharis shook his head firmly. "No! No, not- not at all. Do you think I'd have spent... however long I was in there if I didn't like you too? I just... didn't want to be presumptuous, that's all."

"Of course." Syndra murmured, smiling fondly at him. "... I'd have let you stay longer, but... if you'd stayed much longer, I wouldn't be able to do this."

"Do what?" Kharis asked, but already Syndra was leaning forward, kissing him so softly...

The kiss held for a long, intimate moment... and then Syndra looked away, sputtering. "Ugh... sorry. Soap suds got in my mouth."

Kharis raised an eyebrow. "Aha. Revenge."

Their eyes met again, and they laughed.

But this time, it took a long while for them to stop smiling.

› Skip ahead to the section beginning with "A year after".

Time had lost all meaning by the time Kharis became conscious again. Had it been a day since Syndra had swallowed him? A month? A century? ... An hour? He couldn't tell.

"Mommy! Kharis is awake!" Nymie called. She looked back at Kharis with as serious a face as her small features would allow. "You're in big trouble, mister."

Kharis lifted his head off the sofa, feeling disoriented. He remembered being swallowed. He remembered his embarrassing arousal... the rest of it was a haze. He had the vaguest idea that he'd come undone in Syndra's gut, but then how in the world would he have awakened again here?

"So, the fearless hero awakes, hm?" Syndra asked as she entered the room, kneeling down next to the sofa. Contrary to Nymie's portents of doom, Syndra seemed to be in a good mood. "You lost your grip, didn't you?"

"Hm?" Kharis tried to think back. "... The Absorption Spellform..."

Syndra chuckled lowly as she stroked his hair. "Yes, that's right. You lost your grip on the Spellform. Because you hadn't been practicing, had you?"

A hot flush came to Kharis's cheeks. "Er- I- W-well, I had been practicing, but that was... some time before, and..."

"It's all right, Kharis. I'm not angry. I think it's cute that you tried to give me such bravado." She smiled, tousling his hair. "Even if it almost ended with you being mine for good."

The phrasing of that fate wasn't unpleasant in the least. Being digested was scary, but being Syndra's was... almost desirable.

"There are other ways to be mine," Syndra murmured at his ear, as if she'd been listening to Kharis's thoughts. She leaned in and kissed him on the cheek. "And if you're amenable... and you're not in a rush to land yourself on my hips again... I'd like to try some of them."

A shy smile spread across Kharis's face. "Is... being yours the other way still an option?"

"You'll need to get me some more ingredients for the revival ritual... but yes, being mine the other way is very much still an option," Syndra teased. She placed a hand on his thigh. "I'd be offended if you weren't..."

› Continue below.

A year after Kharis had first set foot in Spiritscar, it was time for him to finally put in his citizenship application - to finally be able to participate in Spiritscar culture on his own, not merely as an adventurer or Syndra's tag-along.

He had to fill it out in front of the magistrate, which definitely gave him a case of the nerves - his ability to be fully part of his ancestral homeland was at stake! - but at least he wasn't alone.

"This dress is itchy," Nymie complained quietly beside him.

"Shhh, darling," Syndra murmured, ruffling Nymie's hair. "Let him concentrate." He felt her comforting, encouraging hand on his back, and with that boost in confidence, he pushed the sheet of paper across the desk.

The magistrate looked over her glasses at the application. "Kharis Inaralei... an unusual name."

"I think it's beautiful," Syndra said from beside him. "A gesture of a mother's love for her son."

"And you, Syndra Bryfir, you are this man's sponsor?" the magistrate asked, scratching some notes down on the pad beside her. "You understand it is your responsibility to teach him and guide him, to ensure he adheres to Spiritscarn custom, maintains order, and does his part as a citizen of this fair city?"

Syndra nodded firmly. "My responsibility and my pleasure. And if he misbehaves... I know how to bring him into line."

He glanced over at her just in time to catch her winking and sticking her tongue out. The open flirt in the midst of the serious proceeding helped to defuse the tension, and he couldn't help but laugh.

"Then I see no reason to deny this application," the magistrate said, placing a blob of wax over the paper and stamping it with her seal. "It is my great pleasure to welcome you as a Varlyn of Spiritscar, Kharis Inaralei."

Relief flooded Kharis, and tears started to his eyes. "Thank you, ma'am. You have no idea how long I've waited to hear those words."

The magistrate smiled. "Go, then, and celebrate."

"I want to celebrate with ice cream," Nymie announced, taking the stairs down to the street two at a time. With her manaemia gone, she was a lot more energetic now, and it brought warmth to Kharis's heart to see it. "And NO dates or kissing allowed!"

"Mmm... I'm going to have to veto that rule, I think," Syndra said with a smile, sliding her arm around Kharis's waist. "Kharis and I still have a lot of dates and kissing to do..."

"Blech! Gross!" Nymie yelled, taking a dramatic leap down the last three stairs and nearly tumbling over. "No ice cream for anyone who does kisses at my celebration!"

"Oh, no? Well, then, I guess someone's going to have to enjoy her ice cream from inside her mommy," Syndra teased, rushing down the stairs after Nymie. "Better run!"

Kharis watched with an affectionate smile on his face as Nymie took off running with an excited shriek, Syndra in hot pursuit. He'd come here looking for his family. And though this wasn't what he had imagined...

... he felt he'd succeeded.

⁂ END