“The deadline? What do you mean the deadline was today? I wasn’t even told there was one.” You ask the yellow Shih Tzu standing at your doorstep, clipboard in hand, and an uncharacteristically business-like demeanor.
 
While you would often visit the homes of other villagers (as if they had invited you), it wasn’t common you ever got visitors yourself. More uncommon, a visit at 5:00 AM from the “mayor’s assistant” herself, Isabelle. The supposed mayor in question hadn’t ever actually shown up after the retirement of the previous mayor, Tortimer. By sheer coincidence, you had moved into town the same day that the new mayor was supposed to arrive, and you were quite taken aback to experience a welcoming party from people who you never even met before, much less told them you were moving there. Isabelle had initially written off your correction as a joke, but eventually you were able to convince everyone that you were not the new mayor they were expecting. One flustered apology later, and you were off to get your new house as Isabelle and the others continued to wait for the true mayor. For reasons unknown, they never arrived.
 
As the mayor’s right-hand woman, Isabelle took up the mayoral duties while she waited for the new mayor to arrive. Although by now everyone had long since given up expecting their arrival, Isabelle still refers to herself as the mayor’s assistant despite essentially being the mayor at this point. You have no idea why. Maybe she still expects the mayor to arrive one day. Maybe she just doesn’t like holding a title with that much influence. Regardless, she is in charge of nearly everything in this small town. And it appears one of those responsibilities has brought her to your house.
 
“It is true that Mr. Nook never set an explicit deadline, but he has rarely ever needed to.” Isabelle informs you, looking over her clipboard and donning a disappointed frown. “Almost every client he has worked with paid their mortgage in no less than a month. It’s really quite a generous offer. The mortgage rates are so low that Mr. Nook receives most of his revenue through optional home expansions.”
 
“But there was a deadline for the initial mortgage?”
 
“Technically, yes. The mortgage papers specified about one year to get the initial payment through. The wording is very loose, and gives a lot of leeway, but you’ve been living here for two years. Mr. Nook is requiring payment now.”
 
“Now?!” You blurt. “But I wasn’t even warned!”
 
“Apparently, he had sent you letters about it. Did you not get them?”
 
“Oh. Uuuuh…” You had in fact received letters from Tom Nook, but you had skimmed them. Whether it’s because of his formality, professionalism, or a true businessman’s heart that encourages him to write all his messages like a detailed contract, his letters were dense. You knew through skimming that he was talking about your mortgage, but you didn’t think he was informing you about any sort of approaching deadline. You thought it was just…
 
“Well, I did. But I just thought they were… More like suggestions.”
 
“Suggestions?” Isabelle questions with a baffled look. “Were you not planning on paying off the mortgage!?”
 
“I was!” You quickly defend yourself. “I just… Didn’t think there was a time limit.”
 
Isabelle stares at you, completely taken aback. To be honest, it makes you feel extremely embarrassed. Isabelle usually isn’t so business-like. Despite the pressure of running a town alone, she’s always seemed to uphold an optimistic attitude, and was even pretty ditzy too.
 
“Just, give me a few more weeks. I promise, I’ll have enough bells.” You say.
 
Slowly, Isabelle’s expression returns to the more stoic one she had greeted you at the door with. It was almost ominous the way she had recovered from looking shocked to straight faced. The shame you felt is somehow even more overbearing.
 
“I’m sorry, but Mr. Nook needs it now. If you don’t have enough bells, you’ll be forced to select some items to sell until you can pay the full mortgage.”
 
You blink a few times. Would that even be enough? The truth is, you don’t actually stay here for much of the year. Sometimes you take long, inexplicable trips for a month or two, leading all your neighbors to ask where you had been when you returned (creepily, they seemed to always know the exact amount of days you were gone for). You hadn’t actually acquired too much of your own property, and you didn’t exactly have a job. How would you make easy bells in this town, selling beetles? Like you’d know…
“I don’t think I have enough at the moment.” You say. “Please Isabelle, just a few weeks is all I need, I swear. Plus, Nook’s gone for that island getaway thing, right? Who’s gonna enforce it?”
 
“I have to.” She states disappointedly, and evidently tired.
 
You take a quick look up and down at her. For a short moment, you wonder what she’d even do if someone denied her. There’s no police in town, or anything like that. For as long as she’s been the de facto mayor, Isabelle’s policies have never been met with any pushback thanks to the combination of her agreeableness and lax villagers. She has authority, but she doesn’t seem to have the strength to enforce it.
 
“Can you even, though?” You ask with genuine curiosity, before realizing how rude that sounded. “Erm, sorry. I didn’t mean…”
 
As you stumble for a save, you notice Isabelle’s wince, as if hurt and offended at the same time, before returning once again to a straight face. Except now, she almost looks unamused. It’s not a look you’ve ever seen on Isabelle’s face, and for some reason, it’s making you very nervous.
“If you can’t pay off your mortgage now, you’ll have to be downgraded.” She states.
 
“Downgraded? What does that… H-hey!”
 
Before you can finish your sentence, you feel Isabelle place a paw on your chest as she walks forward, pushing you back into your house with her. She shuts the door behind her.
 
“Isabelle? What was that?!” You have no idea what to say. Did you imagine it, or did the most passive and non-confrontational person you know just push you into your house and close herself in with you?
 
As you remain speechless, Isabelle takes a short gander around your house. What furniture and decorations you have are somewhat scattered about, and brings together no apparent theme. Most of it is just items you thought looked neat and bought on impulse, putting it down next to something that probably doesn’t match, and calling it a day.
 
“You’re right. It’s not going to be enough.” She states after she finishes casing the place. She turns her attention to you. “You’ll need to pay for it through a… Special debt.”
 
You shake your head, finally coming back to your senses. “Special debt?! Isabelle, please, just tell me what’s going on. What are you doing, and what did you mean by downgrading and special debts?” Her sudden authority has you a little spooked, to be honest. Not helping was that you had no idea what she was implying with those terms. You wanted to tell her to leave your house after she forced her way in, but you can’t bring yourself to.
“OK…” She answers impassively, before turning her attention to a maroon armchair you had placed against your eastern wall. “Sit there for me, and I’ll tell you.”
 
You stare at her, and then the chair. Being hopelessly confused, but seeing it as harmless enough, you oblige her request. “Is this going to take a while?” You guess as you settle into the armchair, thinking it’s the only logical reason why she’d have you sit down.
 
“It could. Hopefully it will go smoothly.”
 
“Uh… Smoothly?”
 
Then, shedding her apathetic look, she smiles. It’s not a joyful, enjoying everyday kind of smile. Rather, it’s more pensive, similar to a daydreamer pleasantly lost in thought. Though where a daydreamer’s attention is up in the cloud’s, Isabelle’s is directly at you.
“If you can’t pay off this house, I’ll have to put you into one you can afford.” She explains as she steps up to you, nearly standing over you when she stops.
 
“I guess that makes sense... But really, I just need a little time. I’ll just… Pay off my mortgage, okay? I’ll just do that, and there’ll be no problem.” you say, admittedly flustered, but not sure why. “There’s uh… There’s a chair over there you can sit in too.” You offer, acknowledging the rather ornate, yet still cheap looking, dining chair in the corner of the room.
 
Isabelle doesn’t even look over. Instead, she moves the slightest bit forward, now basically looming over you. The quietest chime rings out from the bell on her head as she tilts it forward over you. She doesn’t stare at your face for long, eyeing you from head to toe, further escalating the situation from unnerving to creepy.
 
“I haven’t told you about the special debt yet. With it, you won’t need to pay off the rest of what you owe through bells.”
 
“…OK, what’s the special debt?” You ask, a little intrigued, though still off-put by the entire situation.
 
“I’ll show you.” She grins, sounding almost infatuated, before lowering herself to her knees. Once you realize she’s put her head at crotch level, as you sit in front of her on the armchair, your face immediately flushes red.
 
“Woah! Woah! U-uh, Isabelle! What are you… This isn’t-!” You start in a panic, immediately questioning the morality of the situation. Specifically, why Isabelle of all people was instigating it. “We can’t do this! This is way too fast for something like this, too!” You say, finally able to get a verbal footing.
 
To your relief, Isabelle’s focus isn’t going to where you had thought it was going as she looks even lower down your body. For a moment, you notice a brief scowl as her sights reach your shoes. Before you can ask what the hell all this was about, her paws suddenly grip your left shoe, and it’s forcefully yanked off and tossed aside. The same is done with the right before you can pull it back.
 
“H-hey! Isabelle! Seriously, what are you doing?! I’m not into this kind of stuff!” You say as you sit up straight and pull your feet up to the seat of the chair.
 
In response, Isabelle looks up at your face. Your shock freezes you in place as you witness the new expression she wears.
 
Desire.
 
“You’re really going to be “into me” soon.” She states, licking her lips after the statement.
 
You’re completely taken aback, utterly unsure what to think of that. Is this really Isabelle, or some bizarre ploy starring her doppelganger?
 
As you attempt to process what’s going on, you’re forcefully torn from your thoughts as you feel her paws grip your ankles, and she thrusts them off the armchair and toward herself. The sudden panic you feel from thinking she’s about to kick her face disappears as soon as it had appeared.
 
Instead of feeling your feet collide with her face, they instead feel… Wet. And warm. And cramped?
 
“Mmf.” Comes from Isabelle’s mouth as she releases her grip from your ankles, allowing her mouth to keep them in place. Her cheeks bulge outwards as she, somehow, manages to fit both of your feet in them.
 
You’re frozen at the sight of it. “…What the fuck?” You mutter under your breath. How is she able to do that? But more importantly, WHY is she doing that? “I-Isabelle! I told you, I’m not into this kind of stuff!” You say, unsure if you should be embarrassed, disgusted, or impressed. You attempt to wiggle your feet free, but however Isabelle’s mouth had unhinged for them on the way in, was evidently not going to happen for the way out. “Seriously, what the hell? I-“
 
Isabelle’s arms swing forward, gripping just below your knees at their full extension.
 
*GULK*
 
For half of a second, a sudden force had violently pulled your entire body towards Isabelle’s direction, before an abrupt stop. The slime that had coated up to your ankles had now progressed halfway up your calves, as your feet made headway into the much more cramped and constricting space of her gullet. Again, you needed a second to process what had just happened, but before you can, the sudden force returns immediately as her arms reach up and grab your lower thighs.
 
*GLUUK!*
 
Again, your body jets downward, before you endure the whiplash of another abrupt stop. The moist and cramped space of Isabelle’s mouth lays more claim to your legs, subjecting what had previously been overtaken to slide even further down without almost no resistance thanks to the fresh coat of saliva. By the time your body had stopped, Isabelle’s lips were inches from your knees. Your upper body had been pulled even closer to the seat cushion, being forced to slump over slightly to accommodate your lost ground.
 
“What the fuck?!” You yell loudly this time. Despite how impossible the situation sounded, you realized what was happening: Isabelle was swallowing you. How much could she keep this up?! She’ll choke herself!
 
Isabelle appeared to be in a state of intense focus. Although having started sitting on her legs, she had since moved her knees back behind her as she leaned forward so that her back leveled out like a table. Her knees, and her grip on you, supported her in that position as her back arched, propping her butt up with her tail becoming the highest point on that end. Her eyes were shut tight for the exertion, seemingly putting all her effort into slipping as much as your body into her as possible.
 
*GLUUURK!*
 
“Gah! Isabelle! S-stop!” You plead, highly disturbed with how much progress she had made. There was no way she could swallow all of you, could she?!
 
At this point, your lower thighs were bound together by Isabelle’s lips like a tightened lasso, having surpassed your knees. Your upper body had been pulled down far enough that your head was now almost level with the armrests that surrounded it. Only your head and upper back was pressed against the backrest. The rest laid upon the seat of the armchair.
 
Your legs were beginning to feel more like slugs than limbs by now, and any attempt to kick them about was effortlessly smothered by the constricting walls of Isabelle’s throat. As she reached forward again and attempted to grab your hips, you realized she was preparing for yet another swallow. With your own arms, you reach down and attempt to bully hers away from your body. While moderately successful in preventing her from getting a good grip, it’s soon revealed that your effort was meaningless.
 
*GLUUUUURK!*
 
Regardless of if she had her arms to assist her, her mouth had gained enough ground where it no longer needed them to make considerable progress with each gulp. Such a gulp had now pulled you in all the way to the top of your thighs. She was inches from finishing your legs and moving on to your torso. Just as your head slips to the seat cushion of the armchair, you feel your feet, having long since been lost, slip through some tight hole and into a slightly less cramped space. As more of your legs joined your feet, a noticeable lump began to form through Isabelle’s vest, directly over her stomach. She must be approaching her limit, you hope. Still, the fact that she had somehow managed to swallow a part of you down to her stomach was certainly grounds to panic. Due to the fear spawned from having your entire legs swallowed whole by a dog woman who isn’t even taller than you, you don’t have any worry left to spare about if you’ll hurt her trying to free yourself.
 
You begin wildly kicking your feet around their new, slightly less restricted space, and you grip the armrests of the chair and desperately try to pull yourself up and out of Isabelle’s maw. It feels like trying to pull yourself out from underneath a car, but somehow, you were actually making headway. Slowly but surely, inches of your thighs began reemerging, primarily assisted by Isabelle’s saliva acting as a lubricant.
 
“What the FUCK are you doing Isabelle!!?” You yell as you slowly regain your thighs, exerting yourself heavily in the process. As long as you can keep your grip anchored on the armchair, you’re able to prevent sliding any further down.
 
Isabelle also appears to be exerting herself. Her eyes were still shut tight as she put all her focus into fighting against your struggles. Realizing she’s losing you, she pulls a maneuver that completely catches you off guard. In an instant, she lurches forward, simultaneously reclaiming her lost territory, and getting just close enough to where she can reach up with her hands and grab your wrists, pulling them back towards her. With your legs bound, and your arms forced to anchor themselves to the chair, there was nothing you could do to prevent your grip from being lost, and your head and upper back consequently fall down on the seat cushion.
 
It leaves you in an incredibly vulnerable position, and Isabelle capitalizes off of it.
 
*GLUUUUUUK!!*
Much to your increasing dread, you feel your hips pulled past the seal of her lips, and she begins her venture on your torso. The lump on her stomach had grown a considerable amount from her especially fruitful previous swallow. In a desperate state, you try to restabilize yourself with another grip of the chair, but Isabelle is one step ahead of you.
 
She places her own hands on the armrests of the chair before you can, and with a mighty push, rotates herself along the arch of her back, pushing herself upwards with you still caught in her mouth. You’re brought upright again as her face lifts towards the ceiling, and lifted hopelessly away from anything in arm’s reach. At the end of it, she’s positioned like a seal balancing a ball on its nose. Now, she had gravity on her side.
 
It feels as if half of your body was encased within a warm and slimy sleeping bag, which was being pressed and massaged from all sides. Even between swallows, you feel her throat muscles gently guide you further down her gullet. Your stomach is forced to compress against the tight seal of her lips, stretching impossibly wide to accommodate your width.
 
Could she do it? Could she really swallow ALL of you!? It shouldn’t be possible, but neither should the progress she’s already made! “Stop! Y-you’re giving me no choice!” You say in a panic, staring down at the Shih Tzu currently engulfing your lower half. Without much thought, you slap your palm against her face and attempt to push off from there. You don’t have time to feel bad at her wince and muffled yelp, as that maneuver ended up backfiring tremendously.
 
With your palm pushing against her face, you feel Isabelle grab ahold of your wrist, before…
 
*GULK!*
 
Your arm is immediately slipped into her mouth and pulled under, along with another sizable portion of your body. In a desperate struggle, you attempt to pry your arm out from her mouth, but it’s no use. Her lips have proven to be an impenetrable seal, and this is no exception. Your right arm remains pinned to your side as Isabelle comes up to another rest at your chest. Despite currently being in the interim between gulps, gravity, and the amount of territory her throat muscles now had to pull down on your body, allowed her mouth to continue to creep upwards on you. This must be how submerging in quicksand felt, if quicksand was moist and tepid. Looking downwards, you’re faced with a petrifying sight.
 
As horrifying as it already was to watch your body disappear down her bulging throat, and into her ever swelling belly, the look on Isabelle’s face struck even more terror in you. She no longer had her eyes shut tight in focus. Instead, she wore an angry glare at you, with the faint red mark the shape of your hand on it.
 
You fucked up.
 
“I-Isabelle…! I’m…”
 
*GLUK!!*
 
“Gah! Fuck!” You shout in response to being thrust even further down her throat. You wince at the absolutely chilling feeling of her lips sealing around your neck. Isabelle, having passed your shoulders, forced your free arm to stick upwards, now being the only part excluding your head that was completely outside of her voracious being. The last of your legs had since been deposited within her belly, being forced to curl up as it pressed her stomach outwards, giving her a bloated and lumpy appearance. Your torso remained within the constricting space of the back of her throat, but was slowly making its way to add itself to her impossibly large tummy.
 
With so much of you now contained, Isabelle had no issues climbing to her feet, standing up with her arms crossed, and tilting her head up. Your free arm was forced to stick up to the ceiling as you slowly descended down into her being. She was letting gravity finish off the job. As her wet lips gradually climbed up your chin, you could no longer doubt the possibility that she could, in fact, swallow you whole.
 
“Isabelle, please! Don’t do this! I promise, I’ll pay what I owe! I’ll do it right away, I promise!” You plead, craning your neck back and saving your chin a few more seconds of freedom. However that only meant that your face would be the last thing, other than your arm, to be engulfed. Sure enough, her lips soon surmounted the top of your head and your chin. Having surpassed those roadblocks, the rest of your face would be an easy swallow as it narrows down exponentially.
 
“Please… I promise, I’ll pay…” You whimper in your totally helpless state, bound by her insides, still in disbelief that this was actually happening.
 
“Ah mmow yooh ‘ill.” She responds, muffled to the point of inaudibility.
 
“Pleas-mmmf!”
 
Her lips had finally claimed your own, silencing you, and leaving you to stare up at your outstretched arm with terrified eyes. You couldn’t even struggle at this point, your entire body was completely suppressed by her inner walls. The only thing you could do was helplessly let out muffled pleas and begs as her lips close around your face, ready to meet up once again. Eventually, her lips scale across your entire face, and you are sealed in darkness. Your arm was now the only roadblock left stopping her from shutting her mouth completely around you.
 
With your head completely contained within her maw, your horror has reached its peak. You scream for help, for anyone at all to rescue you from a fate as Shih Tzu chow. But it’s far too late. Your yells are too muffled, and can only reach Isabelle herself. You’re silenced as her tongue slithers around your head, rubbing about and applying a fresh coat of saliva, which would make your descent all the more easy.
 
Your arm wasn’t long for the outside world. Isabelle puckered and sucked, putting in a harrowing effort of slurping it down like an oversized noodle.
 
*Slurp!* *Slurp!*
 
As your hand comes closer and closer to joining the rest of your body, you make one final effort in stopping your descent. Before your wrist is taken, you bend and grab ahold of Isabelle’s upper lip. To your surprise, you find you’re successful in anchoring yourself from falling any further as your head stops within Isabelle’s throat, giving it the imprint of your terrified expression. It doesn’t last, unfortunately, as Isabelle brings her hands to her mouth, and gently plucks each of your fingers from her lip.
 
*Gulp.*
 
At last, Isabelle’s lips reunited, having successfully sealed you within her body. Completely, utterly, helpless.
 
————————————————
 
*Gulp.*
 
Isabelle shivered in ecstasy as she felt the very last of him slide down her throat. She did it, she actually pulled it off! She really managed to claim him in his entirety! No longer having her mouth stuffed, she lets out a content sigh. The muscles in her throat can take it from here. Turning around and plopping down into the armchair that had previously seated her victim, Isabelle winds down from such an exhausting endeavor.
 
She closed her eyes, focusing solely on the feeling of his body being carried down to her stomach. Her esophagus gave him a tight hug as he was squeezed further and further down. She could tell he was trying his hardest to wiggle back up, but if anything, it only expedited the process. He was such a filling meal. She only regretted that she was so focused on getting him down that she could barely savor the taste. Human was so unlike any of the various fruits that seemed to be the only plentiful source of food around, and she knew she’d never have an opportunity like this again. It was fine, though. Taste was a short term benefit. The long term benefits were what she was really looking forward to.
 
Eventually, he was fully deposited fully within her belly, which bloated well over ten times the size of a pregnant stomach to accompany the fully grown, human occupant. The bottom buttons of her green vest popped off to make room for her abdomen’s massive expansion. Despite such a gargantuan growth, the space inside was still incredibly cramped. So much so, that Isabelle was able to point out his general shape, and which lumps were his hands, legs, knees, and face as they futilely pushed against her stomach walls, only to be pushed back into place the moment he conceded any strength. She reached as far around her swollen belly as she could, giving it a tight hug, and listening to the pleads within. Up close, she could just make out what he was saying.
 
“HELP! LET ME OUT! HEEELP!”
 
Did she feel bad about this? Maybe a little. He wasn’t a bad guy, but he had just been so…incompetent. The mortgage was just the final straw. He’d wantonly enter other villager’s homes if they were present, would often hit villagers in the head with a net as he chased bugs, dug up holes that he wouldn’t cover up, and many more strange behaviors that implied some kind of unspoken self-importance. It was as if he believed he was in a video game that provided no consequences to such actions.
 
Why eat him as punishment? She honestly wasn’t quite sure what went over her to come up with that idea. His incompetence just made him seem like…easy prey. Somehow, some base instinct was drawn out of her. And boy, was he easy prey. He could hardly fight back after he realized what was happening. The current situation made it self-evident enough. Within a minute’s time, he ended up in the belly of someone not even taller than him.
 
She gave herself a few pats on her extended belly. His squirms and struggles within only achieved a pleasant massage for her.
 
“I see you’re settling in nicely to your new home!” She spoke with her usual chipper, putting an ear to her stomach to listen to his response.
 
“Please, Isabelle! Let me out! I don’t want to die!”
 
“Relax! I’m not going to digest you.”
 
Upon hearing that, his struggles began to cease for a moment. “S-so you’ll let me go?”
 
“Well, I didn’t say that.” She says coyly.
 
“WHAT?! But-!”
 
“I told you, since you couldn’t afford the house, you needed to be downgraded to a new home. This is it!” She says, giving her belly a few hardy pats. “It’s completely free of charge! There’s no mortgage you have to worry about paying on time. The only condition is that you’re never allowed to leave.”
 
“No… No no no! You can’t do this!” He tries to argue, and his frantic kicks and pushes return in full force across her stomach.
 
“As the mayor’s stand-in, It’s my duty to enforce difficult decisions like this.”
 
“B-but the mortgage! How can I pay what I owe when I’m stuck in here!?”
 
“This is how you’ll pay for it. I’ll foot whatever is left to pay after your items are sold. In return, you get to help me out with my work. I might be the mayor’s assistant, but with how stressful my job has been alone, I think I could use an assistant myself! Sometimes I have to work all day and night at Town Hall. I could use some entertainment to break up the monotony every now and then.” She gives herself a belly rub as she explains, enjoying the feeling of her captive’s thrashing about.
 
“You can’t! I’m not some… Some pet!”
 
“Of course not. You’re my tenant! Now, get comfortable. This is your home now, and you’re going to be staying a loooooong time.” She says, before leaning back onto the armchair, unable to understand his protests as her ears move away from the head-shaped bulge on her gut. She ignored all his struggles and pleads as she rested her hands behind her head, reclining comfortably with her wildly trashing and expanded belly. Even though it was still early in the morning, she was tired. She hadn’t gotten much sleep last night because of her work, and she felt quite exhausted from helping a villager “move in” to his new home. Isabelle left him to the void of her hopelessly cramp, damp, and warm new “home” as she drifted off.
 
He should have just paid his mortgage.