Short story written by  cimmaronspirit11 about me convincing him to let me into his mouth to explore.

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From The Horse’s Mouth

By Cimmaron Spirit
Commission for Startide

WARNING: contains macro/micro, size difference, maw play, and other such silly things.

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“So are you sure about this?” Cimmaron asked, raising an eyebrow. “This isn’t exactly something I’ve done before. And I’ve done a lot of stuff through all of time and space.”
The orange feline giggled. “It will be fine. I’m the one that’s going to brave the danger you know. And I’ve done it before.”
Cimmaron snorted. “Alright then Star.” Cimmaron laid his hand flat on the table, and allowed Startide, the tiny cat, to climb up on the palm of the stallion’s hand.
“Besides, the wristband I got from your company will ensure that I teleport out if something goes wrong.” Startide showed off the shiny metal device clamped to his wrist, though at his current size it looked more like a very tiny piece of cereal.
Cimmaron blinked. Did CIMIndustries make such a thing? He pulled a small recorder out of his pocket with his other hand and made a mental note to himself to make sure that his multiverse spanning conglomerate did, indeed, eventually make a wristband to allow small people to teleport out of danger. Had to be careful to make sure events still happened in somewhat chronological order.
Cimmaron put the recorder away and he carefully lifted his hand to his muzzle and opened wide.
“Alright, thank you horse! And remember: don’t swallow me!” Startide grinned, and jumped in the wide open mouth, landing on the horse’s tongue. Cimmaron made a startled gurgling noise as the weight of the cat suddenly entered his mouth. Cimmaron was careful to make sure not to close his mouth, though his jaw was already starting to stiffen up.
It was humid. It was hot. It was wet. Startide giggled as he slowly stood up, and then walked on the tongue. He could feel it quiver, like it was reflexively trying to swallow, but the horse was doing his best to not let it happen. Climbing into giant’s mouths was a pass time of his, and he always enjoyed being able to enjoy the soft yet strong tongue that stretched out like a red carpet for him. In the dark distance, he could see Cimmaron’s uvula, which twitched and flickered every so often. Saliva dribbled around him, soaking the cat. He just gave a giggle, and rubbed the slickness into his fur.
“Ah yu ukey ehh theer?” Cimmaron asked, the lack of tongue and mouth movements making him sound like he was from an alien race.
“I’m fine Cimmaron,” Startide said, looking over the massive white teeth that filled the horse’s mouth. They were broad and flat, perfect for the equine and his foraging heritage, even if anthro furs preferred something more than what their species would have eaten when they walked on all fours. “You just don’t swallow me, okay?”
Cimmaron made a sound that might have been an affirmative, but orange tabby was already exploring the mouth he was in. It was so roomy and spacious, it would have made a nice bed room. Part of him wanted to just lay down and have a cat nap on the broad expanse of tongue, feeling the taste buds caress and massage him at his tiny size. But he knew the longer he stayed, the more likely the untrained horse might swallow him. So the exploration continued.
Startide wondered what the horse tasted right now, as he walked through his mouth. It wasn’t like Startide exactly knew what he tasted like himself, though he was told he smelled and tasted like gingerbread.
Cimmaron’s jaw was really starting to ache. He wanted to close it really bad, but he knew he couldn’t. How did people get used to this? He knew that some people spent their entire lives preparing to be used like this. But with his mouth open for so long, it was feeling dry. He couldn’t even lick his lips, damnit! Not to mention how hard it was to prevent his tongue from tossing the bite sized feline down his throat. It took all his willpower to concentrate…
The door behind him slammed open. Cimmaron yelped, standing up and closing his mouth with a snap. His tongue reflexively threw Startide deeper into his mouth.
The cat mewled as he found himself flying through the dark, warm mouth, and grabbed hold of the uvula, clinging for dear life. What the hell happened?
“Cimmaron? Ah! Cimmaron!” a British sounding voice that sounded very familiar to Startide said. “I was looking all over for you!”
Cimmaron turned around, to see Winston Churchill in 1930s era sporting clothing, carrying a set of golf clubs. “Some of the chaps were wondering if you’d join us for a game?”
Cimmaron could feel a weight hanging in his throat, almost making him choke, but he didn’t open his mouth. And how did Churchill get in here? Wasn’t he at his home in that weird void in the multiverse? And did he give the famous British leader access to it? Another thing he would have to remember to give later.
But first, make sure that Startide doesn’t end up in my stomach. First things first. Cimmaron barely breathed, but he gave a small nod to Churchill.
“Are you okay there?” Churchill asked. “What’s wrong? Cat got your tongue?” He then chuckled.
Cimmaron gave a more constrained laugh as he could feel the oxygen in his body start to leave him. Churchill was more right than he ever could have known.
“Well come along old man! George Washington and Peter the Great are already warming up!” Churchill then walked out and slammed the door shut.
Cimmaron spun around, and spat up the cat onto the table, before hacking away, trying to get air into his lungs again. He coughed a lot.
In the middle of the table, Startide sat dazed and confused. “W-what the hell was that?” the cat asked. “And was that Winston Churchill?”
“I… I…” Cimmaron panted, “I… yes, that was Churchill.”
Startide stood up, and grumbled as he wiped the horse’s saliva off him.
“Sorry about that Startide,” Cimmaron said. “Though, next time maybe you might want to get a professional to do that.” The time traveling stallion flicked his pocket watch, and a portal that was Startide’s size appeared next to the cat. “That should lead straight to your house, give or take a few months.” Cimmaron then looked worried. “If you happen to run into yourself, don’t touch him, and I’ll be there to fix it up later.”
The cat rolled his eyes, though it was hard for the horse to see him at his size. “Fine. Well, thanks anyway Cim.” Startide turned to walk through the port
“Well, I guess I can say I know what you cat’s go through now,” Cimmaron said, as he stretched, opening another portal to pull out his own set of golf clubs.
“What?” Startide asked, looking back out of the portal.
“Hairballs,” the horse said with a smirk. Startide just growled and glared at the horse as he waked out to go hang out with the famous historical figures.