27 | bigender | bisexual | he/she | strict pred | general {non-vore} hornyposting is over on @puppyabortion | icon + header image are mine | nsfw art is on @puppysdummyaccount | minors DNI!!
27 year old transmasc bigender bisexual, she/he pronouns only. I'm strictly a pred, but I am a switch+vers.
Dragonsona is named Kagutom, and his design may change slightly too. She can have any arrangement of genitalia, including sometimes having breasts, sometimes not.
Please feel free to send asks and interact - I wanna hear about how much you wanna disappear into my body or get off on my posts. Some flirting is okay, but I am taken so back-and-forth explicit sexting is not allowed. If things get too far I will cut you off, no hard feelings.
Personal text posts tagged as #pred thoughts. Art of mine tagged as #pred art. my writing is under #pred writes.
this is a vore blog. on it you may find:
- oral vore
- unbirth
- cock vore
- anal vore
- bladder vore
- soft vore
- safe vore/regurgitation/reformation {rebirth but only as eggs, not live young}
- {non-graphic} fatal vore and digestion {including cum/squirt/piss digestion}. Undigested bones may also be present.
- {non-graphic} cruel/sadistic vore
- explicitly NSFT vore. I like to get off with a belly full of prey.
- willing prey
- unwilling prey
- dubiously willing prey
- size-difference
- feral monsters
- furry {anthro}
- not a huge fan of hyper stuff but it may show up here occasionally at my discretion
things you will NOT find on this blog (though this isn't a DNI or anything. just a list of my personal limits):
- other forms of vore such as breast, nasal, or bellybutton vore
- scat
- same-size vore
- prey larger than pred
- farts {not a huge fan of burps either but they get a pass}
- pregnancy
- ageplay/ddlg/cgl {this makes me uncomfortable, so it will get you blocked}
- incest/fauxcest {this makes me uncomfortable, so it will get you blocked}
- feral animals/zoo/beast content {this makes me uncomfortable, so this will get you blocked}
- I am exclusively a pred - don't tell me about how you wanna eat me, I'm not into it. {this will get you a warning, then a block if it happens again.}
What if you had a friend who was some kind of mad scientist pred?
They keep their predatory affairs pretty quiet, never talking about what prey species they like to prey upon or when their last feed was, other than reassuring you that they've got a super ethical setup for their meals. You figure that they're just more of a closed-off and private person, or maybe they think that the topic would make you, a prey species, uncomfortable to hear and thus avoid talking about it around you.
One day though you arrive at their house early while they're out getting some last-minute supplies for the dinner they were going to make for you that they had forgotten before your arrival.
You let yourself in and while they're gone you take a peep at their lab. The code on the door was easy to crack - you knew their birthday already.
Looking around inside you find the walls lined with large, futuristic looking test-tubes filled with some kind of liquid, with figures suspended inside obfuscated by the dark liquid.
You walk around, finding a rather ghoulish contraption in the corner for the incineration of undigested bones. It looks like your friend opts to burn up multiple prey remnants at once rather than one at a time - there's a decent pile of bones in the contraption, with at least 3 skulls that you can see among them. They all look to be of the same species, looking identical to one-another.
Things began to click into place, and you realise what this "super ethical setup" that your pred friend had spoken of - this is some kind of complex cloning setup! All of the figures are clones of one another, rapidly developing inside the tanks into adult preythings for your friend to snack on without concern for the life, career, friends or family that they'd leave behind.
It's still a little ethically dubious in your opinion - they're still living, breathing things that can experience pain and fear of death - but a lot better than the alternative you supposed.
Not thinking much of it, your curiosity gets the best of you. You wipe down the front of one of the tubes - the one with the largest figure inside - and shine your phone light inside the glass tube, illuminating the prey's face within the liquid. Disturbed by the light, the clone's eyes part weakly.
You lock eyes with yourself behind the glass, before the clone shuts its eyes again, determined to sleep.
Your beating heart is wracked by the horror of this new revelation. Your hands shake uncontrollably. You peer into several more of the tanks and confirm your worst fear - these are your clones. Your "friend" has been eating you.
Backing away from the glass tubes, the full incinerator catches your eye once more - your legs move themselves against your will towards it, and you reach for one of the skulls on top. Your own empty eye sockets stare unblinking up at you.
All the times that you had met up with your friend and noticed the irrefutable bulge of a full stomach you were seeing your own body fill out your friend's belly. The churning noises you had heard within when you had hugged them tight were the sounds of your own flesh digesting within.
How many times had your friend sent you sliding down their gullet? How many times had you died deep within their gut? For how many years have they known your taste? Or the exact way that you struggle when pushed into the jaws that will seal your fate and claim your life in order to prolong theirs? Do they enjoy the pathetic sounds you make as you struggle against their grasp? Do they revel in the way that you taste? The weight of your body enclosed helplessly within theirs? When you spend time together do they take pleasure in knowing that they could turn you into nothing but calories so easily, having had so much practice already? Does their mouth begin to water like Pavlov's dog every time they see you?
Why you...?
You're snapped out of your frantic line of questioning when you hear the front door swing open upstairs, the predator innocently calling your name.
I think the only thing that could heal me at this point is getting churned in someone's nuts while they pant "he's dead... he's dead... he's my cum" and "I'm going to get you pregnant" while they fuck someone that is entirely aware they're assisting in killing me.
I've got this elaborate fantasy that I think was inspired by a bug that I don't remember that much about, other than that it would trick ants into bringing it into their nests and raising it.
But the fantasy is like, there's this giant anthro bug species, kinda brutish and instinctual, and I'm some kind of other anthro bug that has evolved to parasitize their colony somewhat. I'd grow old and mature as normal, then when I'm at the point at which I'm about ready to begin the process of reproduction, I find a nest and emit pheromones to attract members of the colony who are out hunting. They find me and take me in, fooled by my pheromones which dig into something primal within them which makes them believe that I'm somehow the young of their species and need to be taken back to the nest and cared for.
They place me in the brooding caverns with the eggs and mindless grub-like young of their kind undetected. Even their queen sees me as some kind of strange baby that belongs right where they left me.
There, I slowly begin the process of removing the "competition" by eating their eggs and their young one by one, and taking all the food meant for them for myself and grow rapidly. They see me as the sole survivor of a flawed brood, and continue to feed me as I grow, even after I am many times the size of the rest of the inhabitants of the colony, even outgrowing their own queen. I'm not only being fed by the workers that dote on me and the endless supply of eggs laid by the queen, but now picking off the odd worker to consume when I can unnoticed.
After some time, I'm much larger than the queen, and my pheromones begin to change.
Suddenly, I am no longer a horrifically enormous grub that needs care, but a rival queen. The workers still tend to me and care for me, but now the queen is my rival. Since she helped raise me to the size that I am, I am able to overpower her easily and devour her whole. As the struggling queen in my belly begins to still, giving in to my unforgiving gut, I know that she will provide the much needed nutrients for me to lay my own eggs. The workers see this as a victory for the colony, as a strong queen makes for a strong colony.
My new pheromones attract mates of my species into the nest, and they breed me. After pumping me full of their virile seed I swallow them too, adding them to the pudge around my gut. I allow as many mates as I can attract to breed me, as they are an excellent source of nutrients for my young. I begin to lay my own eggs, which the colony dutifully cares for as if they were their own.
Then my own young grow and leave the colony in order to begin the cycle again elsewhere. The original colony I now inhabit would surely begin to weaken and die without a real queen, but they keep me fat and happy for the remainder of my gluttonous, indulgent life.
Sometimes in this fantasy I'm not quite so big, and I can lay my eggs inside of my workers around me, having my way with them as I please. My pheromones rewire their brains and they scramble at the chance to be knocked up and carry my eggs inside of them.
In others the nest doesn't weaken at all, as almost all eggs I lay turn into more workers, slightly different than the original but still functionally the same. Over time the colony is an entirely different species that slowly overtook the old one, taking their home and their resources for themselves. Sometimes in this version of the fantasy any prey consumed are transformed inside my gut and reborn as workers, taking invaders and pathetic prey species and turning them into something grander, something that I can mold into perfect servants for their queen.
She too shy to talk to her crush, obviously. So instead she picks off their friends and family members one by one. Some go down her throat, some up her ass, others down her cock to be made into either piss or cum.
Finally, her crush is all alone. They've seen her a few times by now. She kinda sticks out in a crowd, with tits overflowing from her G cup bra and an ass that claps at the slightest movement.
She's noticed the glances they steal, looking at her. Surely they're appreciating her new growth!
One day. When they're making their daily walk back home. She makes her move.
Jumping out from behind a tree, she grabs them from behind. She buries the back of their head into her cleavage. With her free hand she covers their face with a rag soaked in chloroform.
She smiles, cooing softly to them.
You wake up in a bedroom you don't recognize. Plushies and pillows cover the bed. An old TV sits in the center of the room, facing you.
You try to move, but your body won't respond. Try as you might, you're unable to do anything more than turning your head a few inches to one side.
The door opens. That strange woman that's been following you around walks in. She's wearing nothing but a stained t-shirt that barely covers the top of her tits.
"O-oh! Oh you're awake!"
She looks down at her shirt. She pulls it downwards, trying to cover herself with it and fails miserably.
"S-sorry... I haven't done laundry in awhile. I've been.... busy.... and my clothes from earlier were kinda s-sweaty... but I have something to s-show you!"
She practically skips over to the tv. Grabbing a VHS tape off the nearby shelf, she bends down to insert it into the VCR. You can tell she's purposefully shaking her rear far more than is necessary, sending soft ripples through its surface.
She starts the tape and sprints over to you. She jumps on the bed, causing it to groan loudly. As she lays down next to you, one of her massive breasts falls onto your face, covering it entirely.
"S-sorry. I'm not used to how b-big they are... but look, watch!"
She excitedly points at the TV
A title card slowly fades in. Its purple, covered in hearts and cute characters.
In the center of the screen. Is your partners name.
The tape starts with the view of a writhing, squirming stomach. Hands, feet, and even a face can be seen pressing against the taut skin.
The sounds of the stomach are overwhelming, occasionally peaking the mic of whatever handheld device is being used to record this. In the few moments where its not absolutely deafening, quiet screams can be heard.
"Fuck you! You thought you could steal them from me?! You thought you could hurt them?! Not anymore! Never again!"
The camera pans, swinging over to a full length mirror. In the reflection you see the woman that's been stalking you.
She's much, much smaller, all around. She can't weigh much more than a hundred pounds. Well, on an empty stomach at least.
The woman turns to look at you now.
"T-they were the first one I took! Look how much smaller I was...... b-but wait! Here's the best part!"
On the TV, the woman suddenly lifts her hand to her mouth, a slightly strained look on her face.
*BWOOOOOORRPPPP*
The burp is loud enough that it literally shakes the mirror. As it trails on, you can see the woman's stomach tightening. Your partners form is clearly visible.
Then. Their form becomes less defined. Not because the stomach is relaxing again. No. Your partners body is melting.
On the TV, the woman lets out a quiet "fuck..." her face flushed. She rubs her now much more rounded, much smaller stomach, making small circles.
Next to you, that same monster hits the pause button.
"W-wasn't that so cool! I f-felt her die right there. I-inside me! And when she started trickling into my i-intestines... god..."
Out of the corner of your eye, you can see her hand drift down between her legs.
"But don't worry! We've got a l-lot more to watch together!"
Her free hand motions towards the shelf. You didn't notice it before.
There are. Dozens of tapes. Each one with a name on it. Some have multiple "episodes", presumably because they were too long to fit on one tape.
Your friends. Your ex-partners. Your old teachers. Even your fucking babysitter from when you were five. Everyone you've ever known, their names written on a tape and covered in sparkly stickers.
The woman's moaning softly now, seemingly trying to cover up what she's very obviously doing.
She grabs your hand, putting it on her breast. Its soft. So soft. You can barely move your fingers but they still sink into the pillowy flesh without the slightest resistance.
"I'm just so- mmf. So g-glad I finally have you all to myself~"
Girl that picks up a stack of missing posters for the poor person that mysteriously disappeared.
The clerk thinks she's a bit odd. She seems uncomfortable, her face slightly flushed and her legs constantly moving. She's probably just nervous. Maybe a worried family member?
The girl grabs the posters and runs home. She slams open the door to her apartment and immediately tosses the posters onto the floor.
Then, with barely contained anticipation, she drops her pants. Her partially erect cock springs up.
After a few quick strokes and muffled moans, she feels it. The urge she's kept in check so long is finally released. The dam breaks.
The stream of piss nearly punches a hole in the first poster. The rest are almost immediately soaked.
She doesn't even try to hold back her moans now. Her knees wobbling, her cock now harder than its ever been. Her neighbors would probably file a noise complaint, if they weren't already used to it.
After what seems like an eternity she shakes her now soft cock, the last few drops of piss landing on the posters.
"F-found you...." she says, a blissful grin on her face.
Girl that hates you so fucking much she wants you dead.
The easiest way for her to kill you is to shove you down her cock and churn you into cum.
Which she does, of course. She hates the idea of you having the privilege to stay in her nuts, so she starts hate fucking her fleshlight the moment you're in.
Its not even 5 minutes before your body gives out and the bulges in her nuts smooth. About a minute later she cums, pushed over the edge by the knowledge that you were finally dead. Most of your remains come out as thick ropes blasted into her toilet.
But she's not done. Because that was only **most** of you. She knows there's still some of the cum you made churning at the bottom of her nuts.
So she fucks herself again. And again. And again. Each time cumming out just a bit more of you.
Until finally, after hours of masturbation, knees wobbling, covered in sweat, the last of you dribbles out of her cock.
As she collapses to the floor she drops her now ruined fleshlight.
yeahhh prey thats a total freak about the fact a pred can and has mulched them. sitting on the pred and grinding against their stomach thats so plush and gurgly now. that they helped soften up. getting to fatten that pred up and enjoy every curve knowing they made that happen
feeling their own bones crack and dissolve beneath the muscle of their predator. the all encompassing pressure and feeling of being wholly wanted and needed. remembering the sensation of falling apart. nothing is expected of them other than to melt away. no need to be a person. accepted into that dark and welcoming void. consumed and accepted wholly. the only thing to do is accept fate and be churned up
squirming, just to be palmed back into place. the pred rubbing their stomach to remind the prey that their use is as food. maybe not intentionally. maybe only because it feels good. but thats fine too, the prey has a use as a meal and way to get off. and theyre good at making their pred feel good
Is it fucked up that when I see a giant pair of boobs I usually think about hot it would be if they titfucked a pred while I was churning away in the preds balls....
it really is such a fascinating paradox. the more time i spend with my pred friends -- or rather in my pred friends -- the more i feel adamant that im not food. or at least that im not just food.
being kept safe in my friends bellies so often has really seen be build up a tolerance of sorts. im not anxious like i used to be. and its not like im unaware that im snuggled up in a stomach. i do have to pass through a maw and throat just to get there. its more like the fact that i know im food doesnt feel pejorative like it used to. its moreso become a way i can show my love and trust with those i care about.
being swallowed down again and again and always making it back out again. i cant say i dont still feel vulnerable, and i still get a little spooked from time to time. itd be impossible not to given the nature of where i am. im under no illusion that i am, in fact, made of calories. but having my friends reassure me that im safe. having them hold true to that every time. feeling their heartbeat and breath quicken with excitement whenever they feel me squirm or readjust. hearing their muffled voice checking in on me. seeing the love and excitement and joy in their face once im safely spit back up. it makes me so happy.
it fills me with so much pride to get to snuggle up in my friends bellies the way i do. there was a time when i never thought id get this kind of intimate love from anybody, and knowing that i have a number of pred friends who have grown to love and care for me enough to wanna keep me safe in the most dangerous parts of their bodies. that they wanna keep me safe in the same parts responsible for indifferently mulching countless preythings just like me. that they wanna keep me safe no matter what.
i know im prey but my hungry pred friends make me feel like so much more than just a meal. ive grown so much more confident and expressive with my needs. ive started to see myself as worth taking care of and holding gently. getting to be so comfortable in my vulnerability, so confident in my humanity with people who were never meant to see me as more than food, means more than i could ever possibly express.
im so proud to have added so many big strong preds to my little prey family. i them all to pieces, and im honored that ill get to keep snuggling up with their insides. ill cherish every one of them them till the end of time.
long-necked pred that just refuses to swallow. puts you in their mouth and snaps their jaws shut. if you wanna get to the stomach, you gotta crawl. you gotta wiggle and worm your way down that tight, slippery esophagus before you finally get to curl up in their stomach.
Teasing preds that swallow their prey nice and slowly, savoring every moment... bonus points if the prey is all blushy and trying to hide it, send post
[18+ | MDNI]
voreish sideblog @predbelly - Tumblr Blog | Tumgag
