The rocking slows down. At this point you can hear smaller pieces of the hull flake off the frame, which now starts to creak and buckle from the stress. "Will the lock-down keep us safe?" A random question arises to be answered by the mechanic. "The bulk of our defenses is that hull," Everyone frowns. "We lose that and the frame can bend easily with high stresses...or worse..."
A sudden change in vertigo interrupts the conversation once again. This time the crew falls like dominoes and tumble towards the back of the ship. You grab hold of the reentry safety belt and fasten yourself into the seat. "Hold on everyone!" you shout. The good news is you can't see the same fabric canopy you saw earlier. The bad news is your ship is in terrible shape, with the groaning of the frame attesting to that. And the giant who has your craft in his clutches isn't through with it just yet. From the cockpit you see the giant's face approaching like some new planet to the tiny ship. "Does he see us?" he thinks. His eyes don't follow the window, and his nose gets closer and closer. Suddenly, his mouth opens wide as if to engulf you.
"He's gonna eat us!" The crew panics as the front of the ship runs against his tongue. His lips seal around it. The frame buckles a little. You flip on the front lights and exposes the nature of your new surroundings. "I don't think he's eating us," you assure your crew. "If he is, I can't see his throat getting closer." The hull groans more and you see why. All of the view is pink, wet, and bumpy. "It must be his tongue," you think. Details get worse and above you, the weakened hull leaks to let saliva drip inside the cockpit. The tongue wraps around the ship in an intimate embrace. Your mechanic wrinkles his nose. "For God's sake, man! Show some dignity!" However you're sure the giant didn't hear the response.
The ship gets pulled out from the wet cave, but you can't see anything with all the saliva coating your view. Instead, everything is all colors instead of textures. The giant's fellatio has scraped raw the bottom hull and now all you can see is a flesh-colored sky. The grinding of metal returns with the vengeance. More drops leak through the doors and between the framework, but it lacks the smell of human breath. Instead it smells salty, kinda like a foggy gym locker covered with the mask of coconut.
"I can't see," you turn to your mechanic. "Check the external hull cameras and tell me what he's doing."
You give him a couple minutes - a couple precious minutes for your situation - before he responds again. "He's rubbing us against something, but I can't see through them either." From the liquid that leaked into the ship, you finally pieced together what's scraping the ship - himself. He's scraping the ship against his muscled body, taking with it the sweat and oil covering it. He must've greased himself up before the show.
Suddenly, the external cameras lose signal and a loud metal screech sounds your doom. The entire bottom half of the ship is exposed - no hull, no chance of getting off this planet without extensive repairs. Now the floor bends and a joint forms along half of the cockpit. The entire room is now at risk of being sheared in half by the punishment the giant has put it through for the sake of entertainment...
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