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The entirety of this story (approximately 1,720 words) can be found in issue #9 of Bloodsongs Magazine from Implosion Publishing. Excerpted here is the very beginning of the story. And, yes, I did use kermit to upload it. =)

by Jasmine Sailing

Last night I dreamt of being eaten by frogs. Not normal frogs, mind you, these were giant frogs. I somehow found myself sitting by their marsh, flicking droplets of water with my fingers. It was twilight, I was enshrouded in a fine mist. It must've been the movement that awoke them, the rippling water. They rose from the muck, mottled hides gleaming with a fine sheen of liquid. I was mesmerized, I watched the fore-frog's throat expand and contract as it belched out a ribbit. Was it greeting me?

Maybe in the way a hungry frog will greet a sacrificial fly. I knew this was coming, it had happened before, but I was too enraptured to flee. I wouldn't want to anyway, even if I could. With the thin mucousy layer separating from its eyes, the frog croaked again and hopped toward me. My excitement mounted, I wanted it to come, this was my fullfilment -- my destiny.

Time froze as my frog hopped yet again nearer. I could barely contain myself as I watched it open its toothless maw. Belching again, its tongue flicked out to caress my awaiting body. I thought of myself as a feather, willing myself light so as not to encumber it. The great, wet, tongue wrapped itself around me...coating me in its warmth and slime. I was in darkness but I could feel myself being pulled forward...ever so slowly and tantalizingly...I didn't know if I wanted to hurry, or if I wanted time to remain at a crawl so I could savour every moment for eternity.

Closer and closer until I could feel myself enter its maw. The tongue-hold loosened as my frog paused to savour sucking me inside. I could feel it, the squishing and pulling sensation, my skin and organs shifting downward, my entire body surrendering to this suction as I slowly slid along from his maw down his throat...

Once again, I awoke in a puddle.

I don't know where this hang-up of mine came from. At least arachniphobes can excuse their dread fascination... I can't easily shrug and say I was bitten by a frog as a child.

At one point I was thinking it came from that childhood song. How did it go? "Now hop along, and la ti da, into the woods you go. Up to a swamp, and hear the croaks, and get eaten by a frog..." I suppose the moral was something about how, if you carelessly hop alone through the woods, you might get eaten by frogs and become fertilizer for the vegetation. Or maybe that you should do that.

Then again, maybe there was no moral -- no childhood song. Maybe I just made that up on my own some time ago.

It happened again. I don't even remember her name, I was just thinking about frogs. I think maybe she said Roberta, which almost sounded like rrribbit... yes, she even rolled the R... and that had me automatically hard. I never have been much of one for playing around so I spared her the games and just asked if she wanted to fuck.

No, a lot of them don't go for such a direct approach.

She did. Maybe she was mesmerized by my intensity at a near frog-like sound warbling from a human throat. Most humans simply can not croak right.

But getting laid wasn't what happened again. I'm no virgin by any means, but simple sex is hardly my point. What happened again was...

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