The oldest trick in the book
By Strega

When Sandy saw the young black bear, her instant impression was that it was sick. She saw it hunched up in the undergrowth, either gagging or actually throwing up. She put down her fishing pole and watched as it finally lifted it head, blinking blearily into the sunset dimness, and dug a paw into its mouth.

Something was stuck in there. It was plain from the way it slid its paw in and felt around with its claws that some object was obstructing its breathing. The little bear, barely as large as she was and plainly little more than a cub, hacked and coughed. Sandy felt sorry for the little thing but looked alertly around for its mother. There were few hiding places and as far as she could tell the young bear was alone.

Still coughing, the little bear rose to its feet and padded into the nook next to the stream near her. Sandy cautiously backed behind a tree but the bear didn't see her and sat down, yawning as widely as it could and once again digging a paw into its mouth to the wrist.

The exaggerated wheezing that resulted as it tried to dig out whatever was stuck in there was too much. Sandy came out from behind the tree, hands up in front of her in a peaceable gesture. The little bear's eyes went wide as it saw her and scrabbled at the bark of a nearby tree in an effort to get to its feet and flee, but a bout of coughing wracked its body and it collapsed back on its rump, blinking at her nervously but no longer trying to run.

Other than the thing stuck in its throat the bear looked healthy, Sandy thought. It had the oversized paws and ears of a half-grown animal but it was plump to the point of fatness. Obviously it ate well until it got something stuck in its throat.

As though reading her mind the bear yawned again and pushed a paw past its fangs into its throat, trying to winkle out whatever was wedged in there. When it pulled its wet paw back out Sandy leaned down to see what the problem was. The bear, focused on its breathing, didn't even seem to notice as she practically put her face in its mouth.

She got a good look but couldn't see the problem. The little bear was still yawning remarkably wide and she couldn't see anything stuck in the fangs, or the broad back teeth, or even in a slick purple throat as wide as her face. Thick strings of saliva hung down from the upper jaw and droplets of it ran down the broad fleshy tongue, no doubt part of its body's effort to lubricate and free the trapped object.

The bear blinked as it finally noticed her coming close, but helpless to fix the problem itself it seemed to realized that she wasn't going to hurt it. The little bear closed its mouth for moment then opened it again, its jaws creaking still wider and a gesture of one paw showing that it wanted her to help.

Sandy smiled and leaned in, her hair grazing his fangs as she stared into the wet chute of gullet. She was smiling right up to the point that the little bear's clawed forepaws shot out, grabbed her by the upper arms and stuffed her down its throat.

As the bear shoved her in it heaved itself off the ground and thrust its maw forward. Its jaws lurched over her shoulders and her face slipped past the tightness at the back of its mouth and into its gullet. Off balance, Sandy toppled forward, unbalancing the bear as well, and as it sat down hard her own weight and momentum sent her breasts and upper arms scraping past the bear's fangs and into its throat. Without a moment's hesitation it slid its paws down to her butt and shoved her in to the waist.

Two seconds ago she'd been trying to help and now Sandy's head slithered down the little bear's throat, squeezing past a muscular valve into the wet folds of its stomach. Strong forepaws shoved her ass into its jaws and the little bear lurched where it sat as it swallowed with all its might. A great contraction of its throat muscles squeezed her deeper, her shoulders joining her in the stinking cauldron of its gut, and as the bear's stomach stretched to make room for her a faint opalescent glow appeared.

The first thing Sandy saw was the metal eyelets of a partially digested deck shoe wedged into a fold of the stomach. Other scraps of cloth likewise stuck in here made it plain that she wasn't the first person to help the little bear out with its problem. The problem just wasn't what she thought. She'd thought there was something stuck in its throat. No, the issue rather was that it was hungry.

The glow came from a corroded cell phone half submerged in bile-green stomach juices, its screen still dimly lit, whose owner had been unable to use it to summon help before they continued their trip through the beast's digestive system. The little bear rose onto all fours, causing ribs and muscle to creak and shift all around her, and Sandy kicked desperately. She managed to bend her knee and whack her heel into the little bear's skull but as her leg straightened the bear caught her feet against the rough bark of a tree. Before she could wriggle them loose it stepped forward and wedged between the advancing jaws and the tree there was nowhere for her legs to go but down its throat. Thirty seconds after she put her head helpfully in its mouth the bear sat back, one of her feet protruding from each corner of its mouth, and tensed as it prepared to gulp her down.

Slick with saliva from forehead to ankles and well lubricated for her slide down the gullet Sandy kicked and squirmed, trying to get the bear to cough her back up before it was too late. It already was. The beast raised its muzzle, letting its fangs scrape over her shoes as they slid into its mouth, then clamped its jaws closed and swallowed. Sandy let out a smothered shriek as a rolling contraction of the throat muscles gripped her legs and pushed them after the rest. The belly walls were slippery as oiled glass and she slithered along the fleshy surface as the push of throat muscles forced her legs in the stomach as well.

When the gulp was done she was neatly balled up inside the little bear, trapped by thick walls of muscle and fat. At least she knew why the little bear was so plump now. He liked American food.

The bear struggled to his feet even as she kicked, its swollen belly dragging the ground despite his best effort to lift it. A woman as large as the entire bear made an unnatural bulge in his middle and he waddled heavily back into the woods, grunting with effort but well satisfied with his meal.

His mother, a habitual man-eater, had taught him how to stealthily approach humans, but her idea of a hunt was to find a someone in a sleeping bag and give them a warmer place to sleep, ideally having them mostly swallowed before they woke. Her pride and joy was the rare case where they didn't wake up or struggle at all, passing peacefully from life in the gurgling interior of a bear without even knowing they'd been swallowed. Then there was the time she found two making love and got her jaws over both heads before they knew what was happening. His mother had many stories but the little bear had his own hunting methods.

He'd come up with the "There's something stuck in my mouth" idea himself and was rather proud of the result: six humans converted to a thick layer of fat padding his young body and a seventh now awaiting her trip through his guts.

Sandy kicked and squirmed, unable to get any purchase against the slick fleshy walls and knowing from the residue of previous meals what would happen if she didn't get out. The pulse of the little bear drummed through her but horribly audible as well was the gurgle as digestive juices accumulated. Thick droplets of the stuff rolled down the walls of the belly, lit by the slowly dissolving cell phone, and soaked into the clothes that were her sole protection.

She was dressed for a cool Sierra evening and her boots, Levis, and sweater-over-longsleeved-shirt held the acid at bay, but only for a moment. Her hands and face stung wherever it touched and as her clothing soaked through she began to sting elsewhere too. The clothes themselves seemed immune to the caustic touch of the belly acids. She was not so fortunate and as the bear's full belly swayed her struggles could be seen as momentarily bulges in its swollen middle. The accumulating acid sloshed and gurgled as it began to consume her alive.

Careless of her struggle to survive the little bear belched as he walked, focused on finding a quiet place to digest this meal. As he waddled forward he stepped past the thing he'd coughed up a few minutes before. A wad of clothing, slimy with stomach juices and discolored by acid, forced into a long tapered mass by the shape of his gut and the squeeze of his throat as he retched it up. Its former owner had no more use for it. Soon Sandy would have no use for hers.