Well my boyfriend is no more. We invited a third to the bedroom and well turns out we invited a hungry pred into the bedroom and well he didn’t last long in that fight and here’s what’s left of him. I can’t complain I’m loving the extra wobble he added and can’t wait to test ride the extra ass he was added to.
A commission for someone over on Discord, I really enjoyed writing this one and went a lil over the requested word count because I didn't realize I was already over the limit X3 thank you for commissioning me!
Content: M/M Vore, Implied M/F Vore, Casual Vore, Rapid Digestion, Weight Gain, Straight Predator, Gay Prey, Public Vore, Teasing
The restaurant sat on a small cliff overlooking the water; the kind of place that wasn’t just about food, but about the whole experience of being there, which certainly justified the overpriced menu items. Warm string lights hung overhead, their reflections flickering on the glass railings and the dark waves below. The air smelled faintly of grilled seafood, citrus, and sea salt. This was the same place they’d gone for their first trip together to the coast, back when they’d still been figuring each other out– when Evan had joked that if Caleb ever proposed, it’d better be at a table with that same view. So here they were again, two years and a handful of months later, same view, same faint sea breeze brushing against their skin. Except this time, they had matching rings and a reason to order champagne without pretending it was for getting fucked later.
The waiter had barely set down the menus before Evan leaned across the table, grinning. “You realize we’re officially that couple now, right? The ones people hate because they’re too happy.” His voice carried a teasing warmth, light but genuine. Caleb laughed under his breath, rubbing the back of his neck. “Good,” he said. “Let ‘em hate us. We earned it. People like us couldn’t even get married not a little long while ago,” Evan was the sharper one, his hair cut close on the sides, eyes quick and bright even in low light. Caleb looked softer beside him, his expression easy, his build a bit broader, like someone who gave really good gay hugs and never rushed through them.
For a while, they just sat there listening to the faint hum of conversation around them, the sound of silverware and the ocean below blending into something steady. Caleb reached across the table, his thumb brushing over Evan’s knuckles. “Can’t believe we actually did it,” he said quietly, almost to himself. “Married. After everything.”
Evan squeezed his hand, smiling. “Took us two years and four months, but yeah… feels like the best part’s just starting.”
In the midst of their romantic retrospection, a group of men walked in, five of them in total, the kind of guys who didn’t really care that they were being too loud for the setting, but not in a rude way; they were clearly having fun and feeling themselves. Their laughter rolled through the room, half from the jokes they were telling and half from the few beers they’d clearly had before getting there. They were older, probably mid to late forties, with the kind of ease that comes from knowing nobody’s going to tell them to keep it down, at least not to their faces, usually. A couple of them wore open-collared shirts and watches that caught the light, one had a baseball cap still on, and another immediately waved at the bartender like they were old friends.
They weren’t being mean, not really, just the type to make everything about their own fun, and it seemed like they were in the middle of listening to a story from one particular guy in the group. The waiters smiled politely, trying not to wince at the volume. A few heads turned, but the group didn’t seem to notice or care. They chose a table right next to Evan and Caleb’s, confidently talking as they pulled out chairs and got comfortable.
The second they sat down, one of them leaned in with his drink that he brought from outside and barked, “You did what again?”
The guy, who was telling the story, smirked and took a slow drag from his cigar, the sleeves of his black polo stretching over his arms.
“I swallowed that chick whole,” he said, his voice calm and confident. “Like, head to toe, boobs ’n all.”
“You’re fucking insane, Marco.”
“She was a co-worker. I think she recently moved to my department, too. Gave her one hell of a welcome gift, haha!” He said, treating it casually.
“You’re forced to work with someone difficult and unlikeable? Just swallow ‘em whole.” Another one of the guys said, bantering around the content of the story.
“What about human resources?”
“What about them?” He replied, inhaling with the cigar between his teeth.
“They’re gonna keep paying a digested bitch?”
“Why, you’re worried about a dead woman being paid more than your minimum wage job?” One of the guys replied.
“I just find your story hard to believe, if I’m being honest”
Marco sighed, “You’ve been asking a lotta questions about this and that, so how about I just...” He looked at the tables around them, trying to find a suitable person. “…Show you?” That’s when his eyes laid on the couple.
“Uh oh, here goes another one!”
Marco stood up with a casual grin and placed a heavy hand on Caleb’s shoulder, his grip firm but not aggressive. Caleb flinched a little, startled, and Evan turned around fast, the color draining from his face.
“Can I help you?” Evan asked, his voice tight, cautious. His mind jumped straight to the worst possibility: that they were about to get harassed for holding hands in public by homophobic straight dudes.
Marco smiled, the cigar now between his fingers. “Yeah, actually, you can,” he said, tone light and conversational. “See, my buddy over here doesn’t believe what I told him, and I think your boyfriend might be the perfect way to prove my point.”
Before either of them could react, Marco leaned down, grabbed Caleb by the sides, and forced his head into his mouth. Caleb’s muffled yell came out sharp and panicked– “Help me!” –before the sound was swallowed too. His legs kicked under the table, silverware clattering to the floor.
Evan shot up from his chair, but one of the other men beside Marco reached out and pressed a steady hand on his shoulder, guiding him back down. “It’s no use,” the man said calmly, almost apologetically. “He’s never let anyone stop him once he starts.” Clearly he had experience with Marco’s vore shenanigans.
Marco's throat bulged as Caleb’s head disappeared between his lips. The older man’s tattooed hand came up to grab the visible outline of the face pressing through his neck, the cursive black letters of “FERN” stretched across his inner forearm as his fingers squeezed around the shape. Caleb’s panicked expression was barely visible for a second, distorted under skin and pressure, before Marco gulped again.
“Get 'em down, baby!” one of the guys at the table called out, half-laughing.
“C’mon, Marco, don’t stop now!” another chimed in, clapping once like it was a drinking contest.
Marco’s jaw stretched around Caleb’s shoulders with an effortless wet glide. The black polo pulled tight across his chest as he worked the man deeper, already beginning to stretch up, his throat pulsing, his hands pressing down over the squirming chest until it sank past his lips. The group let out a round of hoots and whistles.
“He’s halfway, man!”
“Fuck yeah, he’s goin’ down!”
“Damn, look at those shoulders slide in, holy shit!”
“…Color me impressed.” The doubting guy said under his breath.
Across the table, Evan jerked against the man still holding him down. “Get off me! That’s my boyfriend!”
The guy leaned in a little, hand now pressing more firmly into Evan’s chest. “Then you better start lookin’ for a new one, man.”
Marco’s thick arms worked steadily as Caleb’s body kept sliding deeper, the soft sounds of gulping now mixing with the scrape of the table legs as the man’s torso disappeared below the edge. His gut had already started to swell, the black fabric of his polo rising inch by inch as more of Caleb was packed inside. His hands braced the wriggling hips, adjusting his stance slightly as he tilted his head back and pulled him in further.
Caleb’s legs kicked weakly now, knees bent and twitching before they too were forced to straighten out and slide between Marco’s lips. One strong swallow pulled the thighs in, followed by the calves, the feet now sticking out awkwardly in dress shoes, polished and ridiculous in how out-of-place they looked hanging from the mouth of a man who hadn’t even broken a sweat. At least he had them pedicured, shame they were covered.
Marco held them there, grinning around the heels, and turned his head to the guy who had called him out earlier for lying. He raised his brows slightly, gesturing with both hands as if presenting a challenge.
The man blinked, looked around at his friends who were already chuckling, then pointed at himself. “…Me?”
The guy next to him nudged his elbow. “Go push 'em in!”
After a beat, the doubter stood up, walked over with a kind of hesitant amusement, and reached for the dangling ankles. He planted one hand on Marco’s shoulder for balance, then slowly pressed on the shoes. Marco didn’t budge. The feet slid in slowly, inch by inch, the man's palm following until it was completely inside Marco’s mouth.
He felt the throat pulse, one deep, wet gulp, and the body inside shifted down, dragging his hand slightly forward before he yanked it back out with a wet squelch. Strings of thick drool stretched from Marco’s lips to the guy’s fingers, snapping and trailing down his wrist as he pulled away.
The group exploded into cheers,
“Holy shit, you did it!”
“That was fucking wild!”
“Dude, you’re insane!”
Among other spoken encouragements.
Even Marco let out a deep laugh, his belly visibly shifting as it settled into a new round shape. He slapped the guy’s shoulder, still grinning. “See? Knew you'd come around to believing.”
He leaned back in his chair and exhaled, his chest rising before he let out a deep, heavy belch. “BUUURRRPP.” He wiped the corner of his mouth with the back of his hand and smirked. “And that pretty much sums up what I did to her,” he said, reaching for his drink. “But anyways, where was I?”
“The part where she wouldn’t stop talking about the report,” one of the guys reminded him, as he took a sip out of his own beer.
“Oh right, yeah,” Marco said, snapping his fingers. “So she’s standin’ there in front of the copier, right? Paper jammed for the third time that week, and she’s losin’ it. I tell her to chill, it’s just a machine, but nah, she starts goin’ off about deadlines and respect and how nobody listens to her.”
As he talked, the surface of his gut twitched under his shirt. He paused mid-sentence, gave it a firm pat, then pressed down with his palm HARD until the movement stopped. His fingers sank slightly into the tight roundness, adjusting the weight like he’d done it before, man-handling the guy inside like an afterthought.
“So anyway,” he went on, shaking his head, “I’m tryin’ to stay cool, right? But then she calls me lazy. Lazy! Like I haven’t been the one fixin’ that damn copier since before she even showed up.”
Across the table next to them, Evan shifted, his voice quiet and shaky. “W-when are you letting my boyfriend out?”
Marco kept talking. “So I tell her, look, if you got somethin’ to say, say it. And she just stares at me like she’s waitin’ for me to snap.”
He grunted softly and leaned forward, both hands on his gut now, squeezing once, a low gurgle coming from inside. He gave it a rough shove inward, the bulge shifting and settling, then sat back with a satisfied grunt and continued the story like nothing happened.
Evan swallowed hard. “Hey?” he tried again, a little louder this time.
“Dude, give me a sec,” He acknowledged Evan briefly, “I’m in the middle of a story, don’t break my goddamn flow.” Marco’s voice rolled on without pause. “So then she starts walkin’ away, right? Real fast. And I’m thinkin’, nah, you’re not gettin’ the last word this time like she always loves to. So I-”
“Dude,” Evan said, voice breaking a little. “I’m asking when are you letting my boyfriend out?”
Marco finally turned his head, eyebrows lifting as if he’d just noticed him for the first time. “Oh,” he said, tone even and casual. “That was your boyfriend? I thought you guys were just friends.”
Evan blinked, his throat tight. “We, uh… we just got married, actually. We’re on our honeymoon.”
Marco’s eyebrows lifted, his face softening. “Oh, really? Congratulations, man! Really happy for you!” His voice was warm, genuinely so, and the others around the table chimed in too, tossing out things like “Congrats, dude!” and “That’s awesome!” between laughs and clinks of glasses to their short-lasting mariage.
Evan hesitated, his hands fidgeting on the edge of the table. “…Anyways, I, uh, was hoping you’d let him out soon?”
Marco tilted his head, expression still casual. “Sorry, I never let someone out,” he said plainly, taking another slow sip of his drink. “But hey, at least it’s really enjoyable for him.”
He stood up, motioning for Evan to come closer. Evan, confused and uneasy, stepped forward. As soon as he did, the faint sounds from Marco’s stomach reached his ears, deep, rhythmic moans, wet and low, from his soon-to-be ex-husband.
“Uhhhhnn… mmmphhh… aaahhhhn~”
Marco grinned, resting one hand over the shifting swell of his gut. “See? Told you,” he said, voice calm, almost conversational. “Pretty sure most people bust multiple times in there before they’re fully gone, men and women both.”
Marco eased back into his chair, patting the dome of his gut. “So yeah,” he said, picking up his story without missing a beat, “she’s stormin’ off, mutterin’ under her breath like a pussy. And I follow her, not fast, just faster than her pace, y’know, because I was set on doing it for real.”
His stomach let out a soft glorp as the shape of Caleb inside started to shift, smoothing out a little. One side of the bulge collapsed in slowly, the squirming becoming weaker, less defined.
“She turns the corner by the breakroom and that’s when I decide, yeah, now’s good. Caught her by the hips, popped her heels right off. Uh, she was wearin’ those little blocky ones, the kind that click loud on tile, and just got to work.”
Inside, Caleb’s muffled groans of pleasure rose and fell:
“Uhhhhhnn… ahhh~ nnnfffhh… mmmmn-ahh…”
Marco chuckled to himself, barely reacting to the sounds. His belly sloshed gently, shrinking down another inch as the weight inside compacted further.
“Honestly, she tasted like coconut lotion or some shit. Sweet as hell, she was a bitch but she took really good care of her skin, was so smooth she just slid right in. Took a bit gettin’ past the shoulders, but after that?” He made a whistling noise and mimed a smooth drop with his hand. “Straight down.”
“Ahhh—uhnnhhh… uhhhHHH—!”
The stomach gurgled louder now, gassy and low, as Caleb’s final spasms inside turned to trembling bliss. The squirming bulge tensed up, and it was evident-at least to Marco- that the guy inside has busted a nut, and Marco’s gut tensed in response and then started to shrink even faster, settling heavy against his lap.
Marco shifted in his chair with a grunt, now noticeably smaller, the roundness becoming softer, looser. He rubbed his palm in slow circles across the front of his polo, almost possessively, that it made Evan jealous he was this handy with his man.
“Anyway, she went down like a damn protein shake,” he said. “Had the hiccups after!”
He looked up at Evan, who stood there frozen, wide-eyed, and vore-cucked. Marco gave him a knowing look and said calmly, “Hey man, I, uh, I’m sure you’ll miss him and all but if you want I could also let you join him?” He said, letting out a burp, “Not now though, I’m a little full, but we can arrange for it later?”
“I… Um,” Evan said, dumbfounded, it almost didn’t seem real that he just lost the love of his life to a guy who just needed an example of what he did. “…N-No, thank you, I’m good…” Despite all of that, he was flustered, and even felt a little attraction.
He leaned over from the table beside him, giving a friendly pat on the shoulder as he said, “Sure thing, but give it some thought, yeah? And, if you’re looking for a new boyfriend, there’s a few pubs ‘round here that you can visit.”
Marco slapped his hands on his thighs and pushed himself up from the chair, still looking smugly satisfied as he talked to his group of straight men. “I know a spot nearby, called Barker’s Tap & Grill, got killer wings and they don’t skimp on the pours.” He glanced around at the guys, then nodded toward the street. “Shall we, boys?”
They all stood, finishing the last of their drinks, tossing bills on the table without looking at the total, even though half their drinks were brought in from the outside.
Evan didn’t follow. He just sat there, frozen, eyes locked on Marco’s back as the man walked away, laughing and talking with his crew like nothing had happened. And it hit him then, he hadn’t even noticed how much thicker the guy had gotten.
Marco’s khakis were pulled tight now over a clearly fuller frame, the seat of his pants rising and sinking with each step. His big, beefy ass swayed from side to side, the fabric hugging each heavy stride, while his thick thighs rubbed together. He was a much meatier man than when he came in, for sure.
Any loser like you would be incredibly happy to be in one of these burgers. After all, this is the solution to all problems in life - a miserable existence in this big and scary world for every tiny faggot and an attempt to survive in a world of strong real men.
And today you surrendered to your fate and decided to let the situation go under the control of someone who means something in this world, unlike you. You don't have to worry about anything anymore. He'll take care of everything.. He 's so strong. While you're thinking about the advantages of the situation, fascinated by male biceps, you don't think about the disadvantages of the situation. You'll be eaten. And you'll be digested Alive. You're too insignificant for him, so he won't even notice you're in his stomach as he moves on with his day.
While the instinct of self-preservation wakes up in you, the burger in which you are sitting rises and everything goes dark around. Ignoring your screams, you are stuffed into his mouth and swallowed into a waiting stomach. But this is the way of every food and any tiny faggot who looks at a real man during his meal.
don't know why my gay brother likes it when i treat him like this, but damn, guess I'll keep doing it cuz it's funny, i'm a good brother, and gets my fuckin' dick hard, man
Ajax looks at the last photo he had taken with his friends, as the plane came in to land. The plan had been simple, a guys weekend somewhere exotic, all three using Ajax's unique skills, meaning they'd only have to buy one ticket. Unfortunately for them, after an 8 hour delay and a 4 hour diversion flight, a predator’s body is going to do what it’s hard wired to do. With a sad sigh Ajax collects his baggage, as he finishes his unplanned solo trip, just a small lump on his abdomen to remind him of the cherished friends he must now learn to live without.
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