The world is a soft, warm darkness, the steady pulse of Selena’s equine stomach surrounding you. Every movement is muted, the rhythmic pressure reminding you of a living, breathing womb. Above, her voice rings with familiar teasing, familiar from school and her streams:

“Whoa! Look at this, chat!” she says, laughing. “You’ll never believe what my little classmate ended up doing… inside me. Can’t even wriggle out, huh?”

You feel a press of her muscles as she shifts slightly, giggling. “Oh, you’re warm and squishy in there… kinda like, I don’t know, a living snack… or maybe a little pet,” she murmurs, voice softening just a fraction. “Aren’t you cute, though? Trapped like this…”

The equine muscles tighten rhythmically around you, sending waves of sensation. She continues to stream, the teasing playful but dominant: “Look at my viewers—my snack is all comfy in here, can you believe it? My classmate thought they could handle me… hah!”

Despite the teasing, there’s a gentle undertone, an affectionate awareness of your helplessness: “…You feel it too, right? Like… I dunno, safe? Squished? Like you belong here? Weird, huh?”

She strokes her human half belly lightly, brushing her long brown hair over her shoulder. “Don’t get any ideas, though. You’re food, not a friend. But… you’re a really soft little meal, okay? My little snack, my first one ever… feels… kinda nice, actually.”

Her laugh shifts between high-pitched teasing and warm chuckles. “Alright, stop fidgeting in there, you’re making me jiggle too much—chat’s seeing every squirm! And we can’t have that… food behaves, right? Good food stays still.”

The warmth around you, the rhythmic pulses, and her playful, affectionate tones combine into a strange, womb-like embrace. You are both her food and her first-time experiment—a mix of fear, warmth, and teasing mockery from someone who, at school, smiled at you as the queen bee… and now holds you completely.