Being in my girlfriend's mouth is a new experience. It's wet, cramped, and her teeth are sharp. Her tongue presses down on me to stop me from fidgeting. I suddenly realize my mistake — she's never really seen me as a fully-competent human, like most people, and instead infantilized me. She couldn't handle the cognitive dissonance between her perception of me and my arousal, so her anger at the potential public embarrassment my outcry could cause overrode her other emotions.
It's okay, this isn't the worst situation I've been in. When my sister was a baby, she was playing dolls with me and some dinos, and accidentally swallowed me, which is how I learned I'm immune to, among other things, stomach acid. My little brother, who enjoys tormenting me, likes to swallow me every now and then when I hurt him fighting back. Once he flushed me and the sewer inspectors had to fish me out of a black-water canal. It's not an experience I'd like to repeat, but if I can get Martha's attention once I'm excreted, it shouldn't go that far. At least this time I'm not starting out on an empty stomach.
Still, I'd like to avoid being swallowed at all, so I inch forward and try to get Martha's attention (while still paying attention to the lecture, obviously). I can see that she's taking copious notes. She taps her wrist with two fingers when she notices I'm ‘escaping’.
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