I seemed to be passed from one part of the body to another, and the tongue started getting much more rough and coarser. I felt it try to crush me and, seeming to do more of a job than the hand did. From what I could see, it was a long way still to go before the throat started, and no doubt that was my final destination when he'd either killed me, or had his fun. I was barely able to breath from the strength of the tongue, and every struggling movement probably added to my taste. With what breath I could get, I looked up towards his upper jaw, as if looking to his eyes and asked, "Do I taste good?" The crushing affected my speaking and it was obvious I was feeling its effects from how I spoke.<br/><br/>My mind wandered to what was coming, perhaps his entire body was trained to be as rough as this, so, even passing his mouth wouldn't mean I was safe. His throat would probably try to crush me and his stomach would more than likely beat me around and force me to drink its flesh destroying acids. I wasn't looking forward to any of this, but, I knew it was coming, so I could at least try and prepare for it.