"Art thou simply testing mine own patience?" the goddess asked, anger in her voice.

The hero only half heard her, curled up on the ground at her feet and still reeling from the sensation of the princess's butt cheeks clenching around him and the snapping of his bones between those pale mounds. He felt as though he could still smell the princess, even here in the goddess's realm.

"On my divine word, if thou finds thy end twixt her royal cheeks for a third time, I shall not resurrect thee!" the goddess threatened. "Instead I shall curse thee with immortality on the spot so thou mayest suffer in her for all time."

The hero scrambled to his knees, but the goddess's hand waved in that all too recognizable motion that signaled he'd be waking up in the forest temple again. As if from a dream, the hero's eyes opened to the soft sunlight of the forest temple. The hero sat up, already fully clothed and equipped, as he had been three times before, and hopped off the moss covered altar that had served as his bed every time the goddess brought him back.

The journey back to the keep in which the princess was held prisoner was relatively quick, made expedient by the steed which always waited for him, but still took all day and night. This time, on scaling the keep's massive walls in the morning, the hero retrieved his hook and rope he'd used to climb the stone face, sensing that trying to climb into the princess's bed directly was going to end poorly a third time.

The princess rested in her bed, as she had every time he'd arrived, but having learned from being caught under her sole, and between her cheeks, the hero made his way up further still, to the bare rafters of the room the princess was kept in. Although more challenging than walking along the floor, from up high, the hero could see the path the princess had worn in the floor with her pacing, information that might've been useful during his first attempt to rescue her.

Setting his equipment down, he secured the hook to the rafter directly above the princess's sleeping form. From here, he rationed, he should land squarely on her stomach, and avoid any butt-related accidents. He was also keenly aware of her open mouth, softly snoring away as the morning waned, and endured that he wouldn't rappel directly down into her open maw.

With his armaments and tools set aside, the hero secured his line to the rafter and began to rappel down. Every inch down felt like a descent from a tower, but he continued without hesitation. Near the end of the rope, he caught a glimpse of the sun filtering in through a small window and realized the beam of light fell directly on the princess's face. A brief moment of contemplating the princess's beauty, and how he was to get down, was immediately interrupted by the stirring of the princess in her bed.

As she sat up, arms stretched out, the hero had a dread epiphany. He'd descended farther than he'd planned, and had inadvertently dropped below falling to eye-level with the princess. He had fallen to mouth level. And in her early morning, the princess yawned.

Desperate to get her attention, he called out, but his plea was drowned out by the cacophonous roar of her tired morning yawn as she stretched. The yawn pulled him into her mouth like a hurricane wind and before he could make sense of what was happening, he'd been pulled free of the rope that was his only safety.

His landing was even more disorienting, the relative cool, dry air of the princess's prison room replaced with a soaking wet heat and relatively soft surface beneath him. He was inside her yawning mouth. He didn't have time to acclimate to his new environment, however, as a surprised squeak from the princess was immediately followed by a sensation unlike anything he'd ever experienced.

The entire world was almost instantly plunged into darkness as the princess closed her mouth in surprise, and an intense pressure, almost bone-crushing to the hero, enveloped him as she reflexively swallowed. For a brief moment, that was everything to the hero, suffocating lack of air, drowning tides of saliva, and a crushing pressure from her tongue pressing him into the roof of her mouth. He counted himself lucky he hadn't been swallowed down.

His luck ran out as the princess coughed lightly and instinctively moved him to the back of her mouth, gulping him down with a renewed pool of saliva as he managed to get one breath in before screaming down her throat.

In the darkness of her stomach, he couldn't see, but he could feel the nauseating heat and stench. He blindly trudged through waist high liquid that he hoped wasn't what he knew it to be and began pounding on the fleshy walls of her stomach. With his pack still up in the rafters, and his rings of elemental resistance stored safely in his pack, he didn't know how long he could last.

He was getting dizzy and tired when the first glob hit him. A yeasty, savory smell, mixed with the all too familiar scent of the princess's saliva. The masticated bread and butter was like a thick ooze that threatened to bury him, as she continued to eat more.

The hero struggled to keep himself awake, above the burying mass of breakfast the princess was enjoying, and somehow out of the pool of burning liquid that had reduced his clothing to tatters and was beginning to burn his skin, but as blob of chewed food after blob continued to fall, he found no more strength to resist. He finally succumbed to pain and exhaustion and darkness in the princess's stomach, with only the gurgling of her guts and the pounding of her heartbeat to be heard.

"Well, at least this time thy end didn't start at her bottom." The goddess sighed as she regarded the hero, curled up between her sandaled feet. "Try to not embarrass me this time."