Pulsating Prison of Wombly Captivity

Inside the fleshy confines of a woman, a fully fledged fetus snoozed peacefully, unaware of anything beyond the safe haven he called home. But the weirdness of the matter was that, his tiny eyelids suddenly fluttered open, as confusion washed over him like a wave of comic absurdity.

The fetus blinked in bewilderment, squinting at the fleshy surroundings. "What in the diapers is this place?" he mused to himself, while his soft little body wobbled in the fluid-filled sanctuary. "And why am I being squished like a sardine in this tiny, squishy space?"

Unwinding his arms from it folded posture, he tried to move about, wiggling what little things he called hands. But there was little to no room for that. "Now how do I go about my daily activities like this?" He thought, and began to frantically brainstorm exit strategies, unaware that he was, in fact, growing inside a womb.

"I thought she agreed to somehow bring me back to live, not lock me up in some type of chrysalis like a damned caterpillar." He fumed up, slightly vibrating out of annoyance. He pushed, shoved, clawed, tickled, yet there was almost no barge in this enclosure. "I'm no bug, dammit, I am Seymourrr!"

"You just wait until I figure a way out of here." His thoughts raced as he mentally prepared a searing Yelp review for whoever had imprisoned him in this minuscule prison. "Who kidnaps a decent man and slaps him into such cramped quarters? Is this some kind of twisted avant-garde art installation? I demand a refund!"

He kept waning as his claustrophobic tendencies kicked into overdrive, rendering him a bumbling mess of existential crisis.

"Shit! I can't even breathe. This place is so confining! I'd rather be doing taxes while stuck in an elevator with a mariachi band!" he lamented, tugging and twisting at the umbilical cord that connected him to the placenta. "Excuse me, what is this? But who thought it'd be a good idea to chain my poor navel to the wall of this joint? Is someone trying to break my personal record for the world's longest belly button decoration?"

His situation was seriously weighing down on his puny brain. However, Seymour remained blissfully ignorant to the fact that he was a tiny, developing being, on the cusp of being reborn into another world.

But of course, who could attest to have ever caught a glimpse of their nine-month stay in a womb? Not even the first glimpse of the outside world upon birth could be retained.

Or perhaps, his senses had been drastically dulled for a fetus brain to be able to accommodate.

Suddenly, the womb's walls shook with laughter. The woman's hormones joyfully tickled the recesses of her womb, which caught the brainstorming fetus off guard, startling him.

"Aaahh!! There's an earthquake... someone get me the f*ck out of here!" He yelped, wiggling and stumping at the walls of his confined space.

In many ways, it was absurd how an unborn child had an inner voice more suited to stand-up comedy than the serene gurgles one typically associates with infants. But the gods have their ways, ways that are not to be questioned.

*BANG!*

*BANG!!*

*BANG!!!*

Fetus Seymour kept pounding and banging until he could feel something barge. "Oh! That must be the door." Seymour thought. "Finally, I'm going to avenge this humiliation."

However, there wasn't any outlet in sight. Instead, something roundish and bulky like a sac of water, had burst, and it kept deflating as whatever was in it was drained.

Suddenly, there were rumblings of chaos reverberating through the snug quarters of the womb, and the tiny soul trapped within, found himself in the midst of quite the uproar.

What should have been a peaceful life in this watery place, was abruptly shattered by a relentless force, pushing Seymour towards an unknown realm beyond the boundaries of the womb.

He could hear muffled sounds of strained grunts and sharp intakes of breath from the realm he was being sucked into.

"Aaahhh!! Dammit!" His thoughts screamed louder than any rock concert, as his panic reverberated through the pinkish confines of this pulsating prison.

How Seymour wished he could express his thoughts! But alas, his vocal cords remained as inactive as a sloth in a hammock.

Whack! Thump! He was jolted from side to side, like a fruit being mercilessly tossed around in a blender. His fragile little self, attempting to cling onto the slippery walls, could only brace for each tremor as he got propelled towards an uncertain fate.

"Oh, the horror!" Seymour lamented inwardly, urging his tiny limbs to flex and resist the incoming force. Unfortunately, his newfound body had not yet granted him the finesse of a trained MMA fighter, leaving him flailing like a fish out of water—oh wait, that would be far too literal!

With every push he could feel from the world outside, he careened towards the exit.

"Oh! Can't we slow this down a bit?" Seymour begged inaudibly, hoping a cosmic pause button could be pressed. But alas, his pleas went unanswered in this cosmic comedy of errors.

Suddenly, he felt an almighty push—akin to being launched from a catapult, in the most slapstick manner imaginable.

He found himself catapulting outwards, propelled by a force filled with equal parts anticipation and annoyance. Apparently, Seymour's struggle to stay put had made the yanking out process even more difficult.

And in that unfathomable moment, Seymour had arrived again on the great stage called life. He laid there staring into the depths of an overstretched pussy.

"Wait a minute, I came from in there?" Seymour's thoughts screamed in bewilderment, as the realization finally struck. "Pinkish fleshy aquatic prison?!! Shit! I was in a womb the entire time. This god must be crazy to dump a grown man's soul in such an unrefined, squishy vessel"

"Aaahhh! My mental health is crippled." Seymour wailed like a star, born into a sitcom of his own undoing.

The inquisitive gloved hands of a woman with pointy ears, dressed in a gown, face mask and bouffant style cap, inched closer towards Seymour.

"Shit! Stay away, Baba-Yagaaa!" His thoughts chimed.

***