Recently I realized I was interested in vore, so.... here we are!
Don’t expect the writing here to be very good at the start, I’m new to writing vore specifically.
I will only do soft vore. Fatal is far from my cup of tea.
Will take writing requests💙
-I reserve the right to delete your writing requests.
-I will not write vore of things that are targeted towards kids. NO I do not see things as nsfw, but a lot of people do, and I refuse to put that out there. Sorry to disappoint.
This blog is sfw. NSFW blogs please either keep away, or be respectful about it.
Safe vore/endo writing prompt/idea that I might do something with, but others are welcome to take and interpret how they wish.
Check down past the break to read the prompt. I kinda went a little long winded, but it's an idea that when I started writing it out, it just kinda started pouring out.
Enjoy!
A vore hotel of sorts. Just one person who eats people instead of putting them up in a room. We can call this person 'the innkeeper' until a more fitting name and description comes along.
The innkeeper could be just some guy/gal/non-binary pal--human, non-human, or something in between or beyond--who lives in a nice, cozy place that COULD be used for more than one person, like maybe a small family, but they run a business providing lodging to people.
The trick is, if you're looking for a room at the inn, it's gonna be more "in" than most places.
Oh don't worry, the innkeeper is quite friendly and trustworthy. They wouldn't dare do any harm to anyone looking for a safe place to bed down for the night. And they have the amazing ability to swallow just about anyone who can fit in the innkeeper's house, no matter how much bigger they are than the innkeeper themselves.
Curiously enough, they're already playing host to a few other guests, and when you get swallowed up, you've got your own private 'room' somehow. It's warm and squishy and surprisingly comfortable--to say nothing of how surprisingly comforting the sound of the innkeeper's heartbeat and breathing happen to be. You could drift off quite easily in here.
Some find they have a bit of difficulty waking up when it's time to check out because it's just so damn cozy in the innkeeper's belly. The innkeeper has to provide a bit of a wake-up call for many of their guests. They feel bad for doing it, because they hate making someone leave when they're enjoying themselves. Of course, there's also a bit of a greedy desire there. It feels nice housing someone inside, and it's always a little lonely once the innkeeper is completely empty.
Thankfully, the innkeeper has quite the reputation for hospitality and keeping their word, so there's almost always new guests coming to stay with them when it's the season for people to travel and go on holiday. Guests are much more sporadic during the off season, and that leaves the innkeeper a little lonesome, both inside and out.
The innkeeper always enjoys giving their guests safe lodging, because it's very gratifying to be hospitable, to provide an enjoyable and comfortable experience... and also... because they really enjoy waddling around their home with a large, full belly they get to dote on, stroke, and appreciate. They act almost as if they're pregnant and all their guests are their children. It's terribly endearing and it's a silly little notion that the innkeeper rather enjoys letting roll through their head.
Pay no mind to it if the innkeeper starts using terms of affection to refer to you while you're visiting--'sweetie', 'honey', and the like. Some guests actually kind of enjoy the idea of pretending the innkeeper is a sort of surrogate parent while they're visiting. The odd 'mom' or 'dad' might slip out while a guest is talking to the innkeeper... and that makes them just tingle with joy.
No matter how many people the innkeeper is currently housing, they never seem to be as big as they should be. There's some curious magic, science, or magical science at work here that lets them somehow compress or conceal just how big they actually should be. They could be carrying a population of fifteen guests and they wouldn't appear to be anywhere near that size. They would still be plenty big, and they desperately enjoy housing that many, but their belly would only reach down as far as their knees in a large, smooth, round orb that has just enough give to it to feel like a warm, plush, very full pillow.
It's not uncommon for some guests to just cuddle up against the innkeeper's belly and lean on it for warmth and comfort. This never lasts terribly long as the guests tend to prefer to be on the other side--to be the one stretching it out from inside rather than pressing on it from outside. Either way, the innkeeper is happy to accommodate. It's just terribly curious how they can keep their guests comfortable--they never notice any sense of being tightly compacted--while their belly is so much smaller than the sum of everyone in it.
However, once the innkeeper is in bed for the night, they let out a relaxed breath as though they're un-clenching a muscle. As they do this, their belly expands outward, stretching larger and larger until it's just as big as it should be for how many people they've eaten. It feels so good to let everything relax like that. They had a bed specially made and reinforced for exactly this practice. The innkeeper fights to stay awake as long as they can so they can spend all the time they can get caressing and appreciating their guest-filled tummy, delighted with the subtle movements and sounds everyone inside makes.
The innkeeper's favorite guests are the ones that come in pairs--romantic couples, like boyfriends, girlfriends, married couples, and the like--or even better, small groups that are polycules. Oh those always feel the best, because the innkeeper can feel them snuggling up together, exploring one another's bodies, taking advantage of the privacy to be intimate if they so desire. There's no need to worry that their activities might be heard or felt by other guests. The innkeeper is perfectly able to keep such things isolated from other 'rooms'... unless someone enjoys hearing and feeling that coming from near by.
Yes, life is pretty good for the innkeeper. They make their own hours. They get to meet all sorts of interesting people. They get to enjoying sharing their hospitality. They get to luxuriate in the sensation of a huge, full belly. And they even get to play host to their guests when they want to come back out for something--the innkeeper is actually quite a good cook and is happy to prepare meals for their guests to enjoy when their guests aren't out exploring the area for the day, or snuggled back up inside the innkeeper's safe, warm belly.
The only thing the innkeeper might long for is a companion--someone who isn't just passing through. It would be rather nice to have a partner to enjoy their lovely home with, someone to rub their belly when they let it stretch back out at the end of the day, someone to cuddle with at night, and maybe, possibly, someone who likes to think of themselves as a 'permanent guest'.
The idea of having someone move in with them tickles the innkeeper. Their new roommate or romantic partner splits their time helping to maintain the household, fawning over the innkeeper's belly, and being inside it for great, long stretches of time. The partner knows all the best places to caress, both inside and out, and they love to murmur sweet nothings out to their innkeeper while they're inside--just silly, mushy nothings that make both the innkeeper and their partner melt in a goofy sense of happiness.
Or maybe their companion might take up the practice themselves. Instead of just one very full belly waddling around the house, there could be two of them, bumping into each other, sharing the joys of being full of their guests, sitting on the couch pressing the sides of their tummies together to bask in the sensation of it all. Then at night, when they both let everything relax and they both stretch out as large as they should be, they tend to their own bellies as well as the other's. Such a notion would be a terribly wonderful thing to experience... but those like the innkeeper seem to be rare. Not so much others who can swallow someone whole like the innkeeper, that is actually fairly common. But more the manner in which the innkeeper uses their abilities--that is what is hard to come by.
'Predator' is a word that could be used to describe the innkeeper but they don't like it. It sounds too vicious, too cruel, and the innkeeper is anything but. Sure, they might be a little... possessive... sometimes, but never cruel, never so selfish to think of their guests as "only food". Yes, it is technically possible that the innkeeper could just keep everyone they eat, even digest them, but that simply feels wrong to them. And yes, there are others out there like the innkeeper, able to perform the same kind of act--though so many of them are exactly the sort of 'predator' the innkeeper does not want to be like. The innkeeper has played host to a few of these other 'predators' before. Some did not enjoy their stay and so the innkeeper would let them out and bid them farewell. Some found they enjoyed the experience and wondered if it might be possible to learn how to mimic the act themselves.
The innkeeper did not hold much hope for 'converting' others with their abilities, but there was always a chance. And teaching someone how to do what the innkeeper does--while it is exceedingly rare--is a terribly gratifying experience. Giving someone else the joy the innkeeper gets to feel... that is a marvelous gift.
Maybe someday the innkeeper will find someone who wishes to learn their ways and stay with them, to 'expand the inn' so to speak. Or maybe someday the innkeeper will find someone who just wishes to make their home with them--to make the innkeeper their home. They could be a guest they've had before and that person just needs to find their way back 'home'. It could be someone they've not met before, a new guest who--upon discovering the innkeeper and their hospitality--decides that there isn't anywhere they'd rather be than in the innkeeper's arms... or their stomach.
When a normie friend brings up vore in a conversation and you have to pretend to be disgusted and make fun of it when in actuality its a big comfort so you just sit there like
I go up on stage. A croud is gazing on in expectant silence. I make my way towards a microphone at the front of the stage. I tap it a few times to be sure it's functional, and say a few test words to ensure it can pick up my voice clearly. I clear my throat and do one final quick, quiet warm up of my voice, and I turn to face the microphone.
It's here! I apologize for the huge delay, this story went through two rewrites because I just wasn't happy with the tone! Regardless I am so happy to finally share it with you all!
***
I remember you told me thunderstorms made you uncomfortable, while it wasn’t the worst thing for you to handle, you definitely couldn’t sleep with one around. You had also told me you couldn’t think about anything else until you knew you were safe. Every storm since then, you came to me or called me so that you could find that feeling.
Tonight, you didn’t.
It was abnormally cold for early spring, the open bedside window letting in a cold draft causing the curtains to flap in the wind. It didn’t feel right not having you here while the storm raged outside. Normally, when a storm rolled through, you would sit in my lap, or cuddle yourself to my chest. I would read to you softly to have you focus on something else.
Originally, I would have waited a little longer for you, but the storm became violent. The lashing rain sounded like rocks against the roof, and water began soaking the windowsill. Figuring closing the window would help, I stand from my chair.
I stare out the window to the street below. The storm is getting worse; the rain has completely overtaken the window, almost looking underwater. The rainwater flows through the wind, lashing at the side of the building. My shoulders are tense as the storm continues to rage.
A sudden flash of light nearly blinds me, combined with the deafening shriek of a lightning bolt searing a large crack in the sky. I grab my chest, startled. I hear you scream from the other side of the wall. Immediately after everything goes dark as the power fails. I gather myself quickly and hastily force the window shut. I turn and call out your name, attempting to hide the fact the storm is getting to me as well. Over the rumbling of thunder, I faintly hear you shout something. It’s coming from down the hall.
Under the nightstand, I retrieve my emergency lantern.
I need to find you.
***
Your scream seemed to have come from the far end of the place. I check the laundry room first, gently knocking on the door. I don’t get a response, but I decide to keep checking. You thankfully aren’t in any of the machines. You don’t seem to be in the side closet either.
Turning my search to the bathroom, I pull the shower curtains aside and look through the top cabinets. Being so small, you tend to hide in dark corners to shield yourself. After searching one side of the room, more thunder crashes outside, bright lights glowing through the foggy glass. I hear you whimper close by.
I announce myself softly.
I notice the cabinet door under the sink is ajar. I tap it with my fingers and peer inside. There I finally find you, your knees up against your chest, and your hands covering your mouth. Tears stream down your cheeks, and you sob softly. Kneeling, I set the lantern next to me. The light gets your attention.
You hesitantly look up and lock eyes with me, then look away. Attempting to reassure you, I smile lightly, “Hey, it’s me, I’m here now.”
You mumble an apology, hugging your knees tighter. I hold out my hand, palm up. You pause before placing one of your hands into my fingers. You let out a shaky breath and begin to speak a little clearer.
You apologize again, expressing regret.
You had thought you could have handled it alone this time.
You said having to admit to a bad call was tough on you.
I didn’t agree at all.
“It wasn’t a bad decision, and you don’t have to feel ashamed for it.” I move my hand further into the cabinet, “May I?”
You begin unfolding yourself and grabbing onto me. I wipe your tears with my thumb.
“Do you want to go back to my room and I can read to you?” You nestle your face into my hand and nod.
***
I set you and the lantern on my nightstand, I pick up a bottle of water from the closet and sit down on the edge of the bed. At this point the storm has started to move out of the area, the thunder growing more distant and less frequent. I take a swing of the water, you seem to look in my direction and look away when I finish swallowing.
I set down the water and motion to the stack of books, figuring you’d want me to read to you. You shake your head. “No?" You shuffle your feet, hands clasped in front of you. “Well, what did you have in mind?” You gesture to my midsection. I look down and back up, slightly confused, “What are you suggesting?” You look off to the side, rubbing your arms. “Do you want to cuddle?” You look at me directly and begin to say something, but turn away again.
Then I get the memo.
“So,” I flash a toothy grin and slowly pat my stomach. “You want me to eat you?” You lock eyes with me, and smile shyly.
Every now and then you'd let me do this, something I had first suggested years ago, and ever since you knew it was safe, you always took the opportunity. “I hope you’re ready, but first-” I lean in close, whispering to you, "I just want a small taste." I drag my tongue over your face.
Your heart starts to flutter. Excited, you hold out your arms above your head. I reach down and cup you in my hands, your small body fitting snugly in my hands. I gently lift you from the nightstand, bringing you up to eye level, blowing a little air over you as I sigh. You wiggle in my grasp, barely containing yourself. I lick my lips and part them, rolling out and dropping my tongue, warm breath cascading over you. My open mouth is a clear view right down to the back of my throat.
Gingerly, you place one hand on my tongue, then the other. Your hands feel cold on the warm muscle. You exclaim how soft it is, then start rubbing your hands over my taste buds. I lift your body as you pull yourself in, extending my tongue under your torso, and releasing my grip around you, grasping you with only a single hand. I hold your lower half with my fingers as I tilt my head back. You slide in a little more.
I try not to be too greedy with you, but you don’t seem to want to wait as you attempt to squirm deeper. I lift you to my palate and let go of your legs, maneuvering my tongue under your feet. I tilt my head back and drop my tongue, letting you slide down, the thick saliva squelching as you slip. I open my throat and swallow with a resounding wet glrk, downing you like a shot. I take my hand and place it over my neck, feeling the small bulge travel past my sternum. I take a sigh as I level my head. Your trip down doesn't take long, my gullet works like a water slide, and you soon reach a stopping point. Your weight shifts as you reach your destination, squeezing through and dropping into my stomach.
You take a moment to gather yourself, running your hands through the folds of the fleshy walls, my belly growling in response. A smile creeps across your face. You attempt to find purchase to steady yourself but it’s too slick. You end up conceding and letting my belly cradle you, sinking further as the sounds of my heartbeat quicken. I slowly lay myself down, careful not to jostle you in there. Pulling the covers over me, I reach over and turn off the lantern. The storm is barely audible off in the distance. I begin massaging my stomach.
My stomach descends on you as I press down, gurgles reverberating around you. Your eyes feel heavy after tonight’s excitement, and the rhythmic breathing and heartbeat, accompanied by the occasional noise from my belly, have made you feel sleepy. You yawn lightly, stretching yourself out across the tight chamber.
My belly relaxes and forms snuggly around you.
You start to doze as you lay inside my stomach.
You know you’re safe, tucked away where nothing can hurt you, and you forget about the storm, everything around you feels like my presence, the feeling of isolation you felt curled up under the bathroom sink is gone, I’m the only thing on your mind now.
I place both hands protectively over you. Feeling your movements slow as you fall asleep, I close my eyes and focus on feeling fullness and weight in my stomach. I sigh deeply and relax.
I would like to disappear into a stomach for a while please. Let me curl up in a pred’s stomach and pass tf out for a few hours to forget this hell world we live in please
It’s so loud, they always yell so loud you can hear it through the walls. You shiver, holding back a choked sob. You’ve always hated yelling, especially from those bigger than you.
Without a word, you’re scooped up into a tight hug by someone twice your size, your partner. They whisper to you, taking you to the other side of the house, away from the yelling.
“Want to curl up for a while?” They ask, and you nod. “I need to go out for a bit, would you mind if I did?” That’s fine, you tell them. Before long, they’ve swallowed you down, their stomach is tight around you, massaging you gently. You feel their arms wrap around you from outside their stomach, and the world rocks gently as they begin to walk about the house.
You can’t hear them yelling in here, and as you faintly hear the door open and close, you relax completely. Who cares if you’re a visible lump in their stomach, who cares if people stare? Certainly not either of you. You realize some time later, that they didn’t go anywhere really, when they come to a stop, groaning as they move to pull themselves into something.
You ask what they’re doing, but they don’t respond. The world begins to rock gently from side to side, and you realize they’ve moved to the hammock in your backyard. With their arms wrapped over you still, and the world slowly rocking, you pass out happy as can be.
You’re thankful for their presence, you love them for it, and you wouldn’t trade them for the world.
What about a soft vore situation where a pred and prey get stuck at home during a thunder storm. It’s nothing serious, but the prey has a bad fear of thunder, so the pred takes them to their “safe space” (aka the pred’s belly) to help calm the prey down. The prey is let out after the storm has passed, ofc
Paranoia just jolted me awake at 1am, so enjoy no thoughts, need distraction
Waking with a start is never pleasant. You realize you’re crying, and get up, navigating to your pred’s room in the dark. You climb into bed next to them without a word. Your weight wakes them just enough for them to realize why you were there. They’re quick to pull you under the blankets, and hold you close. They whisper sweet things to you, but you’re not calming.
After a little while, they gently scoop you up as they sit up, and offer to... hold onto you for the night. Shakily, you nod and tell them you’d enjoy it a lot if they did. They gently, if greedily, gulp you down. You’re nestled into them now, their softly glowing insides gently press into you, and their breathing and heartbeat echo from above. The world shifts as they lay back down, arms wrapped around their stomach, holding you close.
It’s only now you begin to calm down, safely tucked away inside someone. In here, nothing can hurt you. Nothing can see you, or hear you, or touch you... except your pred. You shift until you’re comfortable, and reach out to rest a hand on the muscles around you. You’re safe now, you’re loved, and finally, you’re able to fall back asleep.
Does anyone else have a character with an unusual mouth color, because… well you know. I have a character with a blue mouth so whenever I see art of just a blue mouth or stomach I think of them and I’m just like
In universe it doesn’t even make sense. Like they’re just a normal-ish human person, so why the blue mouth? I have this whole cover up story about how one time I didn’t have any red so I used blue just to see how it looked, then I ended up liking it and it stuck since then.
That is completely made up I just like blue vore bellies. I wouldn’t even say they’re much of a pred, but there’s an appeal in inexperienced/ less than willing preds so still. I like to draw them with big smiles but I have to go out of my way to not try too hard on the mouth or else people will get suspicious. Sometimes I just remember their stomach is blue, and that’s just some random trivia that can never come up in the canon. What if… what if it did tho..
This is why I have a vore blog folks. If I said this on main everyone would mcfreaking lose it
i’ve never written from an inside perspective so there’s no reason for it to be a thing, but it’s just….i know it’s blue in there. i know, and nobody else has to.
