an art trade with WerewolfCZ story included, read below!

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The soft saharan sun illuminated the discoloured wildland, bathing the scenery in a warm yellow. An elf, Jork, wades through the dense shrubbery, on a safari trip through the beautiful scenery. One issue, however, was that his safari car was out of fuel, and he was having to hoof it to the next town, a few miles away.
As he cuts through the grass, keeping tabs on his bearing with a compass and map, he stops, the burning sunbeams blocked suddenly by a tall creature. Jork squints at the vague figure, before realising that stood before him was a majestic giraffe. This one seemed much taller than your average one though.
“Huh.. they’re much bigger up close.” He nervously whispered to himself. The giraffe takes notice, lowering its head down to Jork’s level and eying him with its hazelnut irises. A blue tongue snakes out, licking his face and slathering him in the giraffe’s hot saliva.
“Pllph! Hah, stop that” He teases, pushing on the giraffe’s head playfully. The tall beast smirks, before ramming its own head into Jork softly, knocking him over onto his stomach and grabbing his feet with its mouth, its snake-like tongue wrapping around jork’s legs to keep them together as its mouth stretches open further.
“Wh-what are you doing!” Jorks yelps, as the tongue snakes up his leg and dragging the small elf deeper into the maw of the tall beast, his feet sufficiently wedged deeply into the endless neck. In his attempt to scrape himself out, he desperately tries to use anything to pull himself, like the grass around him, but as he does so, the grass becomes uprooted.
The tongue shoots forward, enwrapping his left arm, and dragging it into the hungry giraffe’s maw, and with a quick gulp his left hand is stuck in the throat, pinned between the fleshy giraffe throat and Jork’s legs. The tongue then wraps around Jork’s right arm, the same following suit for that arm too.
Jork was stuck!
With his means of prying himself free snatched away, the giraffe raises its head up and slowly gulps, bit by bit the elf disappears into the waiting esophagus, his shoulders squeezing through the jaws of the beast, and his head following suit, one last lick of jork’s face with the blue tongue, before a final few swallows, the orange sunset vanishing, and becoming replaced with dark pink flesh.
Jork’s twitching body slides down the giraffe’s long neck, every inch down dragging on, like time had slowed down to savour jork’s torture. His journey begins to become more horizontal as bit by bit he’s channelled into the chest, plunging deeper into the giraffe.
The closest thing to a relief was felt, as the tightly squeezing throat gave way to a softer more accommodating stomach wall, which stretches as Jork was squeezed more and more into the small space, being curled up into an uncomfortable fetal position as the stomach walls clung to every bit of his body, alas, this would be his final resting stop for a long while.
The giraffe looks down at the newly squirming bulge within itself, the wriggles ripping across its body like a pleasurable static.
Satisfied with the new catch, the giraffe looks at the sunset, now lower to the ground and casting a burning orange haze. A lovely evening sun to digest its lovely evening meal.