“Hey, wanna see a trick, Aimee?” she said.

Layla was my friend from way back. We’d met in girl scouts and our friendship had lasted through grammar school, high school, an aborted attempt at college, and now being roommates until the right career came around.

As that career hadn’t shown up yet—I was doing data entry and she was interning for some internet video company—we were just lazing around on a Sunday. Anything seemed like a good distraction from the nightmare that was daytime television.

“Cool.” She reached aside and clicked on a device behind the couch. “Give me your feet.”

I obliged. She pulled off my flipflops, tugged up the edge of her shirt, and pressed my toes against her belly.

“… Is this supposed to do anything but give me a chance to tickle your muffin-top with my toes.”

“Give me a second.”

She fiddled with my feet, pointing my toes and angling them for her belly button. A moment later, the tick became evident. My feet sort of puckered down, following the slope of her navel, and squeaked inside.

“Pretty cool, huh?” she said taking her hands away to show me how my feet had squished down into a space that should have been a challenge to fit my pinkie-tip into. I wriggled my toes, which felt like they were in a slighly damp, stretchy sack, and she giggled liked the doughboy.

“So let me guess. That site you’re interning at is that weird Mad Science Perv site,” I said.

“Mad Science Kink. And yep!”

I felt a tug and noticed that I was slowly sliding deeper. It was making a moist *ssssslllllllp* sound, like someone slurping up a strand of spaghetti with agonizing slowness. It felt… nice. A bit like a hot towel massage.

“So… how are you doing that?”

I was sliding in a little faster now. Most of my calves were gone, and she was about to hit the hem of my boot-cut jeans.

“There’s a machine here that—“

“No, I know about the HD whatever. I mean how are you sucking me in? Belly buttons aren’t known for their sucking.”

“Oh. Well, you know, that’s the trick.”

The navel continued to squish more of my legs inside, seeming to make easy work of my jeans and now moving up past my knees.

“So what happens now?”

She shrugged. “You go all the way in, I guess. I’ve never done it before.”

*Shhhhlup*

The tiny little roll that made up her belly jiggled a bit as my hips popped inside. I was more than half in and the only evidence of it was the half still sticking out. She leaned forward to rest her hands on my shoulders and gently drag me closer.

“How do I get out?” I asked, watching with vague interest as my own belly slid into hers.

“I don’t know. I’ll figure out out. How’s it feel?”

I kicked my legs and she giggled again.

“Cut that out!” she said, blushing.

It still felt like a snug sleeping bag at best, though the heat of my body and hers had made it perspire a bit more, moving it from vaguely damp to thoroughly moist.

“It’s… a little gross… but also kind of nice.”

She took one hand from my shoulder just as my boobs came to rest on her belly. At some point I must have forgotten to tug my arms free, because it wasn’t until this point I realized they had slid in along side me. I was nothing but boobs, shoulders, and a head sticking out of her navel. With her free hand, she drummed on her tummy and I felt the tight confines wrapping most of my body vibrate.

“Oh…” I murmured. “Now it feels really nice. But do we know if this is, you know, safe?” She placed her hand on my head and I glanced up at it. “Because the internet isn’t always the most reliable source of equipment.” She pressed down and my boobs popped inside. “I wouldn’t want something to go wrong just because you got a knockoff of whatever that thing is.” She shoved a little harder. “Maybe you shou—“

*SHLOP*

A final, sharp shove caused my head to pop fully inside. Or at least mostly inside. After her hand lifted away I felt two fingers sort of tamp me down, slipping me deeper until I felt the stretchy opening of her navel sort of roll shut over the crown of my head.

I took a moment to investigate what had become of me. I felt… different. The warm, moist pressure was nice, but the shape of my body seemed wrong. I felt a little rubbery, and I could swear my boobs were pushed down somewhere between my legs, my knees way back behind my neck. I felt like I wasn’t so much curled up as wadded up. But it didn’t hurt at all. When I tried to wriggle my arms and legs, I had limited success, but was rewarded with another giggle. Experienced from inside her navel, it felt like something between a vibrator applied to my entire, now extremely sensitive body, and an earthquake. But when it ended, I sort of wanted another… particularly because two or three more would probably send me quivering past a sensation that would elevate our relationship to something achieved only once before during a drunken sorority dare. … Worth a try, anyway.

~~~

“Calm down in there, hehehe,” Layla insisted feeling the tickly feeling inside her navel. “Fine, I’ll get you out of there.”

She flexed her belly, but all that managed to do was intensify the wriggling. She tried to dig her fingers in to snag the tummy-stuffed roommate, but all that ended up doing was pack her tighter and deeper. Finally, she spied an empty class bottle on an end table. She grabbed it and pressed the mouth of it around her navel. The even pressure around the entire navel seemed to be the proper approach, because through the distortion of the glass neck she could see a bit of Aimee’s skin tone gradually appearing from within her innie.

“Almost,” she said, taking the bottle away and trying her fingers again.

That didn’t work, as the moment she poked her fingers inside it just stuffed Aimee deeper again. She returned to the bottle and pressed it a bit harder. Once again she could feel Aimee easing toward the surface.

“Easy… Easy… Almost…”

*SHL-WEEEEEEEEEP*

In a sudden, squeaky plop, Aimee’s now fairly slick body popped out of Layla’s belly button, squished its way along the neck, and crammed its way into the bottle. Layla lifted up the bottle. Inside was Aimee, her features squished flat against the glass and squeaking lightly as she tried to move. Judging from the deep blush and the way the nipples were visibly more squished than they would have been if not erect, the experience had not been an unpleasant one. In fact, as the squeaks interspersed with breathy moans, something told Layla the feelings were quite intense and quite worth the inconvenience of being bottled. It was a little difficult to figure out where in the tumble of squeezed together anatomy her friend’s face was, but after some shaking and twisting, Aimee’s eyes and nose slid up from behind her boobs. The eyes darted in Layla’s direction. Their look was halfway between sultry and sulky.

Layla turned the bottle upside down and slapped the bottom. Hoping to dislodge her roommate, but it just caused a startled yelp and a fresh set of moans. Finally, Layla shrugged and grabbed the cap, screwing it in place.

“Guess I’ll be taking you to the office tomorrow,” she said simply, setting her bottled friend in her lap and looking back to the TV. “I guess just watch TV and try not to look too refreshing. I am feeling a little parched…”