Imagine you don’t know you’re a werewolf. You go out on a camping trip with your SO on a full moon, and in the middle of the night, you shift, and are STARVING. Lying right next to you is the perfect meal- 150 pounds of meat, tender and delicious, and fast asleep. Your werewolf instincts override everything, and before you know it, your SO’s head is swelling out your throat. They’re definitely awake now, screaming and thrashing, but they’re no watch for your lycan muscles and there’s no one around for miles and miles to hear them, even if your fur didn’t muffle them.
The part of you that’s still You is completely horrified, but no longer in control as you feel your body gulp and shove your lovers body further down your throat, their shoulders too big to make things easy. You twist your head, turn their body, trying to find a good angle, and feel a painful stretch as your arms push. A loud, tight swallow, and then another. You half hope the shoulders won’t fit, but you can see how determined your werewolf brain is.
With one final twist, the shoulders slip into your throat now as you offer a guttural groan of discomfort. Now that the hardest part is done. the werewolf’s hunger intensifies and you begin to snarl and drool and takes big lunging swallows in order to get your meal down faster. Soon you can feel your lover’s head ballooning out your stomach, as if you’d swallowed a bowling ball. But they keep coming, quicker now, and it hurts. Your stomach feels like it’s going to burst and your significant other begins thrashing inside you, hands pushing as far out as they can. You would cry and retch if you have any control. Everything about this is so, so wrong. But your body keeps on swallowing.
Soon all that’s left is their feet in your throat. It seems your stomach refuses to stretch any further at the moment. No matter, it’ll make room in time.
So painfully full now, you wander the forest, hunched over your belly as it hangs heavy, the movement and trashing inside making your walk slow and clumsy.
Eventually you come across a cabin. Deserted, it seems. It takes little effort to break open the front door. Your body is completely exhausted from the transformation and from the very large dinner it’s starting to work on. The only thing your werewolf brain wants is a quiet, dark place to sleep and digest.
There, a couch. Perfect to spend the next few days enjoying your bloated stomach on.
You wake up the next morning, with the full moon no longer up and your body human again, with the light of your life stretching out your belly. Your stomach looks even fuller now that you’re no longer in your werewolf form, and you find that you’re trapped under the weight of them on top of you.
Your emotional breakdown at what you’ve done, what you’re doing, ensues as your body continues to break down its prize with no way to stop it.
jbbartram-illu
gummygunk
romaincrisis
stormborns
titsay
