Lyla trying - and failing to birth you out.

You woke up, to the sound of a loud groan, as your damp sack shifted you awake. As you felt something shift, as your body was compressed for a moment.

"Uh... Fuck. I ate another person. Or people, with all this god damn pudge." You heard Lyla complain, before you heard faint splashing, and flushing from what was presumably a toilet, before your surroundings where hit by the faint sound of a shower.

You tried to kick out of the prison you're in. But that tight knot wouldn't bulge. Worse, it was non-existing. Even as your prison shifted to a howl of pain.

"Ugh, why is my gut's still squirming. Even when it's flat.." You screamed out in panic, even if no sound came from your air-less lungs, as you felt your thoughts brush on your unwitting prison.

"Wait. That's unusual. Ugh. Why am I panicking. Unless..." You felt something poke against your prison, even as you felt her thoughts try to locate where you were. "Are you still in there? And why are you not yet melted. Unless... Wait. Are in my womb? That's odd..."

You thought of Lyla, and how she doesn't even know that your still stuck in her womb. As you felt recognition dawn on your unwilling warden.

"Wait, John? You're inside me?!" You kicked out again in confirmation. Even as you felt something wrap around you, likely clothing you'd presume. As somehow, you felt panic, as your host's heart beat began to thump more louder, as something pulsated into your guts, making you feel content. As if you belong, deserve to be a permament resident within this chamber...

"... Fuck. Somehow, my instinct's gotten possessive over you. This is... Probably bad. Scratch that. This is really bad." You felt pressure on top of you, as if something was trying to push into your entrance. But nothing pushed at you, even as you heard Lyla grunt, and howl in pain.

As if you knew, even if she pushed her hand past her cervix. It still won't reach where your at, as if you heard her stomach growl in satisfaction. Feral satisfaction, that's followed with a growing feeling of dread both of you are feeling, at once.

"Fuck." Your hostess swore, even as you felt her cradle at what felt like, a perfectly 'flat' stomach. "I'm afraid you're stuck inside me, John. Until the full moon at least. Made worse with how you're not even showing. As if I've fucking compressed you."

You inquired what Lyla meant by that, as you felt your prison bounce, with sounds from outside meaning she's moving her way for today's study.

"As in, stored into some hammerspace. Some pred's can do that. Just so they could store more prey for later, or digest a fuck ton of bitches, at the low cost of gaining a lot of cals..."

"But that's not what I fear, most of all, John." You had to inquire what your unwilling hostess is fearing. Even as you felt the heartbeat thump harder, above you.

"Well..."