I dunno, I just find this more enjoyable as far as storytelling (or titillating my weird kinks) goes. Thought it might be fun to kinda break it down and get it out there.

For willing prey, this can be a very pleasant and peaceful experience—the worst they are likely to suffer is a brief, annoying itch. For the unwilling, it becomes a struggle for survival, where succumbing will almost certainly spell the prey's end if they cannot muster the will to resist.

Meanwhile, a limited air supply deprives the prey of their mental faculties by way of slow asphyxiation. Their senses dull, and eventually they lose consciousness. Once this two-pronged approach has robbed the prey of any agency, awareness, or sense of self, the stomach will do the rest.

Lately, when thinking (or writing) about it, I opt for a more painless (if fanciful) depiction of the process where the forces of digestion are a bit like an anesthetic. Gastric enzymes slowly dull the prey's nerves, and a skin-deep prickling sensation gradually gives way to a paralyzing numbness.