The office was mostly quiet, minus the soft breathing. Not even an air conditioner was running. Not a single electronic was on, not a hair was moving. Really, it was nothing. The curtains were drawn, so the room stayed dark, but warm. The warm Californian winter had already done the heating for the office, so the only resident needed no assistance keeping warm.

He was curled up comfortably in his circular velvet bed, his nose close to his knees, completely still save for the rising and falling of his chest. Absolutely nothing moved. If someone was in the office, they would be able to paint a renaissance work that outlined every detail of that scrawny little wolf. The deep grays and light accents of his fur. The blue stylized hair that erupted from his head and ears. The nearly matching blues of his piercings along the snout, the lighter blue that blessed the tiny tongue that stuck cutely from the end of his face. It all nearly matched with the blue tie he wore to complete the black, sleek, and luxurious suit that he wore.

His dreams were just as still as he was, just as soft as he seemed. He was floating in the abyss of his own mind, with neither soul nor body to accompany him. He was perfectly alone, perfectly at peace. As all work days should be.

And then it wasn't. Like a truck, the door, that was way too big and tacky to fit the wall, swung open, with the force of a strength way too great to belong to a “normal” creature. The gray-and-blue wolf jumped out of his bed, groggy and startled. He stood, but quickly lost his balance, placing weight on the side of his pawed foot rather than the bottom of it. He stumbled, and slammed into the window, hitting his head first.

The figure that was at the door came stomping in, quickly rushing to his side. She fell to her knees, scooping the tiny wolf into her arms.

Kc, vision blurred from a likely concussion, looked up at the sea of gray, dotted with bright purple. Or at least, as gray and as purple as he could see, because most of what he saw was throbbing, pulsing, bright red. His head felt like it had been stabbed. His vision was bothersome, like the light was piercing his brain.

He had a concussion. From such a small, simple misstep, he had acquired one of the most feared injuries there were. He shuddered, writhing in pain slightly, groaning.

He took another look up at his wife. Oh right, his wife. That massive sea of gray and purple… the same fur patterns, matching piercings, almost identical hair if you disregard the color, and the biggest, goofiest, roundest glasses anyone could find adorning her massive face… she was a sight to behold, that was for sure. A she-wolf, (russian gray wolf, to be exact), who, for a reason unexplained to him, his peers, his family, or even she herself, had grown almost fifteen feet tall in the previous half-decade.

She was massive. Especially so when she was with him. Kc stood at a measly four feet tall, and barely reached her knee when the two stood side-by-side. She could do virtually whatever she wanted with him- smash him between her breasts, rest him on her breasts, crush him beneath her butt or between his thighs, and the scrawny wolf could do nothing about it. Not that he minded. Sure, there was pain to be felt, and she definitely was rougher than she should've been at times, but she usually made up for it with nothing more than a cuddle and a pressed play button.

Speaking of that cuddle, Kc was in need. He had hit his head hard. He saw nothing but red stripes and yellow stars. And his wife. Which was getting closer. And closer still.

Oop, He was being smushed into her. She was embracing him into tight hug, letting her soft, fresh lavender-smelling fur brush and welcome him. It was a coat of fur that Kc could get lost in, but not too lost. There was only so much of it before he found skin. And beneath skin, fat. Lots of it. Enough for him to sink his digits into, squeeze, press, mold, knead, kiss, and love in his own way. It swept him off of his dizzy feet, enveloped him into a sea of warmth, and soothed his achy body.

Or for today, just his head. He didn't want to cry in front of his wife, so he simply groaned, and clutched his head.

“Ah shit… you hit yourself so hard…” Nat cooed, running her warm hand through Kc’s hair. When she got to the left ear, the area he had hit, he gave a loud whine, and clutched his head with his paws. Nat only cooed again, and squeezed him a little tighter.

Kc watched her visibly think. Or maybe she was teasing him.The two were thinking the same thing, that was undisputed. Kc clutched his head, and groaned again. His mission, obviously or not, was to seem as pathetic as possible. The fact was, this head was damaged. When things get damaged, people replace them. Like a pair of earbuds worn from use, or a battery that doesn't give a car the start it needs, his head was damaged. He struggled to think. Everything spun. Everything, at least, minus his wife.

Kc groaned again, and clutched his head. Nat finally seemed to get the message.

When something is broken, you replace it.

“Looks like you need a rest in your wifey's tummy, love…” Nat said gently. She gave him another little squeeze, mushing him into her belly fat. Silence hung in the air for a few moments before a sound emerged.

It was a gurgle. A slight, tiny, cute, but expectant gurgle. It rose from the depths of her insides, the very core of her being, the darkest abyss of her distended, fattened belly. Then it rose, bubbling up through her organs, past her winding intestines and poking into her stomach- a stomach that was not making that noise by chance.

Her belly was calling for him. It expected him. It was waiting for him, and he was late.

Kc looked up at his expectant, hungry wife. Maybe she had stormed in there with the intention of eating him in the first place, but was using the opportunity to pamper him. Or, on the contrary, she could've been savoring his vulnerability. Kc didn't really know. He gave a whimper, and clutched his head again, trying to snuggle his way deeper into her fat.

“Baby… it's time to disappear again-” she said gingerly, changing her grip on the tiny wolf, from pressing him into her to actually lifting him. Every movement was a small bit of torture to Kc. He didn't cry, and he didn't whine, but he hurt like hell. His vision was blurred still, as suddenly he was at head height to her. Then he was above.

He struggled to keep his balance, but only by a little. Nat's paws were huge. High-fiving her was like stopping a linebacker. Or at least, trying to. But Kc didn't need to stop this linebacker. He didn't need to even resist him. He just tagged along for the ride in his wife's hands. He looked over at her greedy, excited muzzle… how her breath wafted onto him… proving that her lungs were indeed fueling her body.

Oh, that body… Kc took a moment to look down and appreciate his wife's physique. Her arms were perfectly plump with a mix of both fat and muscle. He could lay in them and snooze a night away, or she could rip him in two. Either could be done with the same pair of arms. Between them were her breasts, which he had plumped up with astounding efficiency in the years they'd been together. Each and every one of the calories in his body had rounded her out time and time again, filling her, feeding her, overfeeding her… and it showed. Her breasts sagged and rested on her belly, plump enough to be round, like a pair of melons, but saggy enough to let rest on your head like an ice pack. They hung about a quarter of the way down her belly. Which, of course, to fit her breasts, was a massive quadrant. .

Her gut sagged in a way that covered her crotch, and then some. That “some” was her thighs, which were adorned with an abundant supply of cellulite and fat rolls. Whenever she sat down, especially in a kitchen chair or an office chair, at least half of her mass was hanging off. She was a massive, jiggly, hungry black hole of calories. Especially her gut.

That noisy, hungry, busy, daresay overworked gut. Her deep, cavernous, dark navel stuck out about seven feet away from her weary spine, being the front face of a mass that was surprisingly less fatty than expected. Her belly was mostly distended organs- a permanently stretched (and still growing) stomach, permanently puffed-up intestines, and a liver that had seemingly mutated and grown to be as efficient as a factory machine.

Another gurgle. Kc’s eyes flew back to his wife’s. Hers had already been trained on his. They were loving. They were caring. But above all else, they were hungry. Suddenly, her tounge revealed itself to him: the beautiful purple shade of lumpy flesh came to greet him, giving him a gentle, affectionate pet across the cheek. It left him a little wet, he didn't mind.

Suddenly, another wave of pain flowed over Kc. He gave a grunt, a groan, and put his head back into his wife’s hands. He took a moment to let the pain ebb, before finally, clearing his throat and mustering up the courage to speak.

“Just… eat.”

That was the last word that needed to be said. There wasn’t much else lollygagging that could be done, let alone wanted to be. Nat gave the tiniest smirk, just large enough to be seen and noticed from above. Just big enough to signify what she wanted to say. Once again, her loving husband was providing her with a meal. The meal she’d loved and savored year after year, consuming him with more efficiency, experience, and most of all, enjoyment, time after time. Day after day, the moment she ate him became sweeter. She had, in a way, gotten better at eating him. As awkward as it was to think about it that way, it was what she had gotten good at was eating him.

She parted her lips. Instantly multiple strands of saliva revealed themselves in her maw. Miraculously, they held their own, able to keep their shape as strands. They began to sway and ebb and flow with the direction of Nat’s strong breath as the gap between her upper and lower jaw continued to grow… each moment that passed, Kc looked down at his eventual passage.

If he weren't concussed so badly, he would dive in. He would be much more eager to explore his wife's innards once again. But he was in need of care. Not pleasure. And that's what he was getting: ginger, loving care.

Nat lowered him into her maw gently, like he was a delicate piece of cake or an overfilled mug of coffee. She laid him partly on her tongue, and parly already going down her throat. But a swallow was all it took. He watched below as the previously sealed throat opened up like the hatch to a spaceship. He fell in the black hole easily, being transported to another world seemingly without effort. He felt her gulp, her large but strong throat squeezing him affectionately. He began sliding down that winding, tight, homey, affectionate tunnel. It contracted around him rhythmically, halftime to the pulse of her heart, which began to get louder as his descent continued. He almost wanted to reach over and give it a hug. If he could, he would. The walls kept kneading and massaging him, as he slid all the way down the slick, mucus-covered walls.

It wasn't long before the hissing of her lungs and the thumping of her heart began to grow a bit more distant, and a tightness grew at kc’s feet. A quick peek below (which came with fighting the esophagus wall) revealed the purple ring that he'd passed through countless times. It was the sphincter to another land, another life, another world. As soon as he made contact, it began to open up, ever-so slowly. The slimy ring welcomed him, still being tight enough to embrace him, but not enough to be as tight as the esophagus. He slipped through into the open space, and fell about a foot before landing with a wet plop in the open space below.

Her stomach. Full of slime and gunk and other food, it was the most welcoming place he knew. It was really his second office. He felt around for a moment, and waited for the contraction… and…

A gurgle rumbled around him, jostling him slightly. He felt the walls shift slightly, lifelike and sporadic. They tightened up on him for a moment, before releasing. He listened for a moment. In his flesh chamber, he listened around him to sounds of his wife. She stifled a belch, thumped her chest, and then began rubbing her belly. Kc felt her pawed hands rub the rounded dome of her gut, passing over parts Kc was positioned.

“Mmmn… ok in there, hun?” Nat asked. From the outside, it would've looked weird to see a voluptious wolf like her talking to her own tummy, but the two had done this so many times that being weird at all was nigh impossible.

Kc felt the liquids that were seeping from the walls increase volume and speed. The tingly natural concoction of corrosive elements began to nip at his toes as he curled into a fetal position, just waiting for it to happen. His head still throbbed. But he knew he'd be fine soon.

“Yeah… I'm fine… Thanks babe…” Kc said warmly, before nuzzling the stomach wall gently. Almost as if her stomach was aware of what he said, it tightened Around him once more. He gave a small groan, as his head was pressed on just a bit, but he felt release before it became too uncomfortable.

There he lay, in the musical cacophony of his wife. He was gently kneaded and pressed by her stomach, the tingly acids gave him a relaxing bath, and before long, what used to be the expensive suit was floating around with it.

Kc felt his hearteate begin to slow. Dangerously so. He was exhausted. His head was damaged. His body was giving out.

“Nat?” He called out with a raspy voice. It was slow, and pained, and his breathing was getting softer. He heard his wife answer, the noise rumbling around him in an almost therapeutic manner.

“Mmhm?” She asked.

“Thanks…” he said softly.

Kc felt her rubbing her paws along her gut once again, with such love and such embrace… such protection…

“I love you…” he said softly.

His enviroment rumbled again. At this time, the gentle sounds were all he was.

“I love you, too…” Nat answered.

And then, darkness. Kc sank into the abyss, passed through a wall unknown to the living. He sank into her depths, which presented a passage to the depths of all other beings. He was floating in the abyss of death, with neither mind nor body to accompany him. He saw nothing. He heard nothing. He was nothing.

Then the nothing was replaced by a sound. A guitar. A raspy, buzzing electric guitar, that played only two notes, alternating on repeat:

An E and a G-sharp. Then, after a few measures, the E turned into a D-sharp. Then the two notes gave way to a slurred combination of an F and E-natural. Drums accompanied the guitar, mirroring the rhythm.

Then the lyrics emerged.

With your feet on the air and your head on the ground

Try this trick and spin it, yeah (Yeah)

Your head will collapse, and there's nothing in it

And you'll ask yourself…

Then suddenly, the voice changed. It was no longer a distant man, rather now it was a female, who was singing right in his ear. It was a voice he reckognized, and knew well.

“Where is my mind?” Nat sang. Kc joined in. They sang in unison.

“Where is my mind? Way out, in the water see it swimming…”

Kc opened his eyes. He was back at home, in a new suit, looking up at his wife. She was cradling him like a baby, holding him gently, tenderly, carefully.

Kc reached up to hug. Nat bent down, and they kissed. They held, and shared that kiss for a long, long time. It wouldn't be the last kiss, either. Far from it.