smukmave

35 • he/him

[smukmave]

My Time With Ciaran by smukmave on DeviantArt

My Time With Ciaran — literature by smukmave on DeviantArt. So I've had this idea rolling around in my head for a little while, and last nig

So uh.

Hey guys. It’s been a while.

I had this idea for a while and the other day I finally took the time to get it down on paper.

Open to feedback, if you have any! In any case, enjoy! 💕

[feedowshipofthewings]

Hello lovely Tumblr, your help is needed!

can we promote this adorable belly, pleaseeee

[smukmave]

Scandinavian Delights by smukmave on DeviantArt

So I was talking to this guy about vore (I know), and before I knew it I'd opened a document and I'd written a 3,000 word story.

Fair warning, it's got some feeder/gainer stuff in it, and it can be a bit… graphic – there's actual sex in it which is a little unusual for me, but the whole thing made me so… let's say 'worked up' my hands were shaking against my keyboard as I typed. So I hope you guys enjoy it as much as I do.

[smukmave]

So, a little out of the blue, but guess who wrote a new story?

I've had this idea for maybe a year, it's been sitting in my drafts as a rough outline for ages, but today I was just inspired enough to get it down on paper.

Includes all the usual vore things, some implied digestion (quite heavily implied, actually) and I tried to make the swallowing scene a little longer.

As always, feedback is welcome!

[jacob6798-deactivated20250718]

Riccbelly

[smukmave]

I mean…

[smukmave]

This is a great community, it really is. This is a niche interest that exists on such a wide spectrum.

Not everything created here is to my taste, nor should it be expected to be.

But if there’s one thing that really drags me out of a story or caption and slams me back into reality, it’s when people use ‘vore’ as a verb 😅

Am I alone in this?

[urfavoritewriter]

All-Inclusive

A personal story where I indulge in some of the things I like, needed to write a lil thing after the comms.

Content: M/M Vore, Oral Vore, Casual Vore, Teasing, Prey POV, Head-First Swallowing, Belly Bulge, Belly Rubs, Burping, Dom/Prey Dynamics, Tight Stomach, Digestion Implied, Foodplay Themes, Public Vore, Pred/Prey, Power Dynamics, Size Difference, Belly Play

You weren’t supposed to be here.

The invitation came at the last minute—your co-worker, Steve, bailing on the cruise the day before it set sail. You figured it’d be a nice break from the usual grind, maybe even a chance to unwind for once. But now, standing awkwardly in the corner of the cruise buffet with a half-eaten bread roll in hand, you’re wondering if this was a mistake. The other guests are all annoyingly tanned and carefree, laughing too loud, drinking too much, while you hover on the outskirts, hoping to blend in.

And then he walks in.

He looks like every guy who’s way too comfortable on vacation—open Hawaiian shirt barely clinging to his broad shoulders, linen shorts sitting low on his hips, and a pair of aviators perched on his nose even though you’re indoors. His bare chest glistens slightly, either from the heat or leftover pool water, and his stomach... well, it’s impossible to ignore. A soft roundness presses against his waistband—bigger than just a food baby but not quite a beer belly—making it clear that he’s spent more time at the buffet than the gym lately.

You keep staring. You can’t help it. The lazy, swollen curve of his belly, the way it subtly bounces with each step, it’s weirdly... captivating. You pretend to look away every time his head turns, but after a while, it’s obvious you’ve been caught.

“The fuck you lookin' at, man?” His voice cuts through the noise of the buffet, sharp but casual, his tone more annoyed than curious. He raises an eyebrow, tugging his shirt open a little more and tilting his head. “You got a problem or somethin’? Keepin’ an eye on me like I stole somethin’.”

You blink, startled. “What? No, I wasn’t—”

“Bullshit,” he cuts you off, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. He pats his belly lazily, making it jiggle just enough to draw attention. “You been eye-fuckin’ this gut since I walked in. What, jealous or somethin'?”

Heat crawls up your neck. “I wasn’t—”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever.” He rolls his eyes, brushing past you to load up his plate with more food. You think that’s the end of it—just another awkward interaction to forget about. But when he comes back, plopping down at the table next to yours, he’s not done.

“Got you curious, huh?” he says through a mouthful of shrimp. He leans back in his chair, letting his gut poke out even further. “What, this?” He pats his stomach again, louder this time, grinning as he catches you glancing at it. “Yeah, buffet did me in real good. You like it or somethin’, weirdo?”

You sputter, unsure how to respond. “I-I wasn’t—”

He snickers, clearly enjoying your discomfort. “Nah, you were. Don’t even lie about it.” He leans forward, resting one arm on the table, the other lazily rubbing circles over his belly. “What’s the deal, huh? Ain’t never seen a dude enjoy himself before?”

You try to laugh it off, but the sound dies in your throat when he shifts in his seat, scooting closer. His knee bumps yours under the table, and he smirks, catching the way you stiffen.

“Y’know,” he says, voice dropping a little lower, “if you like it so much, you could always get a closer look.” His grin is sharp, playful, but there’s something dangerous lurking beneath it. “Or... hell, maybe you wanna get inside, yeah? Make yourself useful.”

You blink, heart thudding against your ribs. “What?”

He burps—loud, unapologetic, the sound rumbling out of him like a challenge. He grins afterward, swiping a thumb across his lips. “Ahh, sorry, man. That shrimp’s fightin’ back.” He gives his belly a rough pat, making it jiggle again. “Might need somethin’ heavier to settle it, though. What d’you think?”

You try to back away, but he leans in, crowding you against the table. His stomach presses against your side, soft and warm, trapping you in place. “C’mon now, don’t be shy,” he teases, grinning down at you. “You been starin’ all night. Might as well make it worth your while.”

You try to stammer out a response, but he’s already moving—grabbing the chair beside yours and spinning it around to straddle it, his gut practically resting on your arm now. “What, you think I’m jokin’?” he asks, raising an eyebrow. “Nah, man. I reckon you’d fit just right in here.”

He burps again, this time blowing it right in your face with a laugh. “Whew, you smell that? That’s what’s waitin’ for ya.” He grins as you cough, waving his hand dramatically. “Bet it’ll be nice n’ cozy in there, though. You look like the type that’d enjoy it.”

You try to shift away, but his hand lands on your thigh, heavy and warm, keeping you in place. “Nah, don’t run now,” he murmurs, leaning closer. “Bet you’re wonderin’ what it feels like, huh? Bein’ all snug in there... squished up tight.”

You swallow hard, pulse pounding in your ears. He smirks, clearly seeing the panic in your eyes, and leans back a little, giving his belly a satisfied rub. “You know you want to, man. Might as well admit it.”

Before you can respond, he hooks an arm around your shoulders, pulling you closer until your face is nearly pressed into his gut. “There ya go,” he chuckles, giving you a playful shake. “Feel that? That’s where you’re goin’, dude. Right in here.”

His hand slides to the back of your head, fingers tangling in your hair. “C’mon now, don’t fight it,” he whispers, voice low and teasing. “Gonna swallow you whole, nice n’ easy. Just gotta relax.”

He opens his mouth slightly, letting his tongue flick out as if already tasting you. “Bet you’ll taste better than the shrimp, too.”

He doesn’t waste time. One moment, you’re staring at his smug grin, and the next, his hand is gripping the back of your head, fingers tangled roughly in your hair. He’s not gentle about it—there’s no hesitation. His lips stretch wide, and suddenly, your face is pressed into the slick, wet heat of his mouth.

It’s overwhelming. His tongue slathers across your cheeks, slick and hot, tasting you with broad, lazy strokes. A deep, muffled groan rumbles from his throat, vibrating through your entire skull. You try to squirm, but his hands are firm, holding you steady as he takes his time with each slow, deliberate lick. Every moan feels like satisfaction rolling off him in waves, like he’s savoring you.

Your shoulders bump against his lips next, and his jaw works over you greedily, tugging you in deeper with each wet, heavy gulp. The heat is suffocating—humid and thick, making it hard to breathe as his throat tightens around your face. All you can hear are the squelching sounds of his tongue and the soft, satisfied noises escaping from his chest as he pulls you in inch by inch.

He tries to speak—just once. A garbled, muffled attempt that sounds something like “mmmff…ffuck”—but the words get lost around your body, swallowed up by the slick confines of his mouth. He gives up after that, focusing on the task at hand, each gulp dragging you deeper into the dark, wet tunnel of his throat.

The pressure is intense, your head squeezing further into him with every swallow. His throat ripples around you, muscles working to pull you down, relentless and greedy. You can feel his pulse hammering against your skin, the thrum of it steady and strong as his throat flexes around your shoulders. It’s tight—unbearably tight—and every inch of progress feels like you’re being forced deeper into something inescapable.

His belly gurgles loudly, as if in anticipation, the sound vibrating through you as your head begins to slide past the opening into his gut.

And then, suddenly, you’re in.

The transition is abrupt—one second, your head is squeezed in the tight heat of his throat, and the next, you’re sliding into the slick, churning pit of his stomach. It’s hotter here, wetter too. The walls of his gut press in from every side, slick with juices that coat your skin, thick and warm. You feel something soft brush against your cheek—the remnants of the shrimp he’d devoured earlier, half-digested and floating in the sour broth of his stomach.

The air is thick, sour with the smell of food and digestive acids, and it clings to every breath you manage to steal. His stomach groans deeply, the sound vibrating through the tight space, as if welcoming its newest occupant. It squeezes around your head, kneading you into place like you already belong there.

Outside, the pred grunts with effort, his throat still working to swallow more of you down. The world narrows to the relentless pull of his gut and the humid press of his belly against your body. Your chest is next, sliding past his lips with a wet shlop as he takes another gulp, dragging you deeper.

His moans are louder now, reverberating through your entire body. Each noise is a mix of satisfaction and exertion, a primal sound that makes it clear he’s not just enjoying this—he’s thriving on it. His gut stretches to accommodate you, the skin bulging as more of your body disappears inside. You can feel it growing tighter, pressing you into the mess of half-digested shrimp and thick gastric juices already sloshing around inside.

You try to push back, just on instinct, but it’s no use. His throat is too tight, too determined to let anything go but down. Another wet gulp drags your waist past his lips, and you feel the rest of your body shift, sliding further into the sweltering heat of his gut.

By the time he gets to your thighs, his pace has quickened, each swallow coming more eagerly than the last. He’s lost in it now—every moan, every rumble of his belly a clear sign that he’s fully given in to the pleasure of swallowing you. His throat pulls you down greedily, his hands gripping your legs to guide them in, shoving the last of you inside.

Your legs kick weakly as they slide past his lips, but he just groans, one final, satisfied sound, and tilts his head back with a deep, powerful swallow.

Schlop.

The last of you slips down his throat, and with a loud, contented gulp, you’re gone.

Inside his belly, everything is tight, wet, and sweltering. The stomach walls squeeze you from all sides, pressing you deeper into the mess of food and digestive juices. Every shift of his body sends ripples through the tight space, sloshing you around like just another meal. The air is so thick it’s hard to breathe, each shallow inhale filling your lungs with the sour scent of digestion.

And then, outside, you hear it—a loud, rumbling burp that echoes through the confined space of his stomach, shaking you to your core.

“Oooof,” he groans, rubbing a hand lazily over the massive swell of his gut. “Man, you settled in good. Felt ya fightin’ for a second there—thought I might have to spit ya out. But nah... you fit just right.”

He leans back in his chair, letting his gut hang heavy between his thighs, bulging out with the clear outline of your body inside. “Shit,” he mutters, giving his belly a satisfied slap. “You’re bigger than you looked. Got me feelin’ all stretched out n’ shit.”

His fingers trace slow circles over the bulging curve of his stomach, feeling the way you shift slightly beneath the surface. Another burp rumbles out of him, this one even louder than the last, and he grins, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

“Whew. Yeah, that’s what I needed.” He grins, his voice dripping with smug satisfaction. “Bet you thought you’d freak me out or somethin’, huh? Like I’d be all weirded out by this shit. Nah, man. I think I’m gonna keep ya in here a while.”

He stretches lazily, letting out a contented sigh. “Shit, maybe I’ll even take ya out for a walk. Show ya off a bit. Let everybody see what a good fuckin' job I did stuffin’ ya down in there.”

His hand presses down harder on his gut, squishing you deeper into the mess inside. You hear him chuckle low in his throat, the sound vibrating through every inch of his belly.

“Bet they’ll get a kick outta seein' this,” he says, patting his gut one more time. “Big ol’ belly full of some weirdo who couldn’t keep his eyes to himself.”

With that, he leans back, letting his belly settle heavy and round against his lap, a satisfied grin spreading across his face. “Yeah... think I’m gonna like havin’ ya in there. Hope you’re comfy, dude. ‘Cause you ain’t goin’ anywhere.”

And with one last, lazy burp, he pats his gut again, closing his eyes with a contented sigh.

“You’re mine now.”

[gorillagut]

[chonkyvoreai]

"Ooooft, I am STUFFED! Don't know where you thought you were going buddy.' URPPPPP 'Nope, I've waited far too long for this. You're all mine now!"

[eater-ez]

here’a some recent belly content for y’all. I’ve been in a gaining lull for a while, unfortunately… I think I’m coming out of it but I apologize for the inactivity during. hope to add some more content (and weight) soon.

[smukmave]

So, here it is - the story I teased a few weeks ago. It's a bit longer than I'd realised it would be.

It's a bit... different. A different setting than I usually go for, and the timeline is a bit... let's say interesting?

It's completely unpolished, I've not proofread it or anything like that - so if you do happen to notice any glaring errors or have any feedback generally, please feel free to get in touch!

[smukmave]

Welp. I know it's been a while, but I was struck with inspiration in the middle of the night and I've made a start on a new story.

It's... quite different from everything else I've done. If it's any good when I finish it, I'll post it. Hell, I'll probably post it even if it's not.

[bongbellygainer]

[xavierknightsbridge]

The College Boy's Belly

Chapter One here:

Mike had just turned 18 when Tyler moved in next door. If Mike hadn't already known he was into guys, then Tyler would have turned him gay s

It was meant to be the trip of a lifetime for the three young men, Tyler, Mike and their stoner friend Henry. A week in Amsterdam, smoking joints, taking in the sights and sampling all the pancakes they could. Only there was a problem. Henry’s passport had mysteriously gone missing. And he would not stop complaining about it, until Mike had agreed to come home and search for it with him - while Tyler went out for a run. 

Mike sat in the shared bedroom of the hotel they were staying in, both trying not to hear anything from the bathroom his friends had just entered, and trying very hard to hear. There were three of them on the trip, him, his handsome, well muscled friend Tyler, and Henry, their less liked friend who had tagged along. Though, judging by the noises from the bathroom, it’d just be two of them soon. Or at least, Mike, Tyler, and Tyler’s belly of Henry. 

Because the trip to Amsterdam had always been a pretext. Because Tyler, the handsome olive-skinned Italian-American stallion, had a secret. A secret Mike had discovered in the spring, walking in on him while he was enjoying one of his special meals. Caught with a pair of feet hanging from his mouth while he rubbed his vast, distended bare belly. And Mike, to both of their amazement, had loved it. Since then, after getting over the shock - and suppressing his desire to fill his belly with Mike - they’d been plotting a way to get Tyler another big belly, discreetly. And then came Henry.

Henry was cute and with a nice, round tummy - which Mike knew always got Tyler’s belly gurgling and mouth watering. He wasn’t super intelligent or athletic, but easily led and happy to play along with Tyler and Mike’s eating competitions, watching porn with them while jacking their big cocks, followed by stuffing their bellies and drumming on each other’s pot bellies. Henry didn’t seem to notice how often Tyler’s round belly growled while he took in Henry’s own growing plump gut. It was very easy to suggest a last holiday before sophomore year, when Henry was going to be studying abroad.Tyler was careful about his bellyfilling, he said. Not too many in one place. And in Europe, it would be very easy for Henry to be a missing person - even if Tyler knew exactly where he was everytime he lifted up his shift…  No one would miss boring, affable Henry, and Tyler was desperate to get him into his big belly.

And now, Mike thought, reaching for his cock and beginning to pump away as he heard an unmistakeable belch from the bathroom - Tyler had got his wish. Henry was in his belly, for good. Sealed away inside that godly gut below Tyler’s impressive rack and above his big, girthy cock and full balls. He’d asked for privacy while dining - telling Mike he didn’t want to freak Henry or spoil the surprise for Mike. But Henry - who’d spent the week getting baked, and then the munchies and stuffing his already plump tum with pastries, had sealed his fate at breakfast.

 He’d had a second helping of waffles, belched, and his hoody had ridden up revealing a smooth round expanse of full tummy. Tyler had got an immediate and obvious hard on and his belly let out a moan of yearning. Henry had shook his head and grinned, revealing his dimples “Don’t know why you don’t eat some of this great dutch food.” Mike had winked at Tyler and said “I think he prefers a more home grown alternate.” Tyler had licked his lips and lazily lifted his shirt, revealing his own taut belly (that longed to be big and round) and teased his belly button. “I’m just saving room. Don’t worry - I'm gonna sample everything you’ve eaten, Henry.”

After that, on the pretense of having found his missing passport (Tyler having taken it at the start of the trip, just in case Henry had got suspicious and tried to run) - Tyler arranged for Mike to take him back to the hotel room while he went for a run, just to really get his hormones flowing and his belly ravenous with hunger - Henry was going to be a big fucking belly, Tyler had said licking his lips and lifting his t-shirt to show his abs - drumming his large hand on his belly in horny anticipation for distending his belly with Henry squirming inside of him. 

Mike had brought Henry back to the room, making sure to stop on the way for ice cream so that by the time they returned, Henry had a visible pot belly in his tight t-shirt. He’d told Henry his missing passport was in the bathroom, and then, once he was in, locked the door from the outside, ignoring his boring friend’s pleas. He was going to be a belly soon, Mike had thought, putting cotton wool in his ears. It didn’t matter what food thought .Then it was just a matter of waiting for Tyler to return, already peeling his tank top off, letting his thick pecs bounce free and exposing his toned abs, dripping with sweat. “Belly in there will only tear it,” Tyler had said, giving Mike a friendly smack on the arm as thanks for preparing his meal, before opening the door and going into the bathroom, closing the door behind him. 

Then it was all over, bar  the screaming, which hadn’t lasted long - only a kind of fleshy, muffled moaning could be heard from the bathroom now, in between slurps, gulps and the occasional gurgle. And then, at long last, the door was opening.

Mike’s eyes bulged as Tyler’s huge, bare, smooth belly bounced through the door, sloshing and gurgling - and beneath the stretched skin, screaming. Attached to said wrecking ball, olive skinned belly, was the rest of Tyler. Now wearing only a towel around his waist, wet from the shower, pecs bared, sweaty and heaving, and his dark curly hair plastered to his head and grinning wildly as he rubbed and stroked the enormous planet of distended belly that was Henry, now safely packed away inside his tank of a gut.

Tyler wobbled his groaning bare belly over to Mike, giving the squirming sphere of smooth big belly a loving smack, and let out a belch. “Fuck me Henry, there is some eating on you. You’ve stretched me out for sure.”He rubbed his belly, palm pressed and just about fitting over his expanded, yawning navel. “You make such good bellyfilling Henry. Your belly inside mine feels so fat and heavy. Fuck, I’m going to enjoy digesting you and making you into my bellypudge for good.” His belly squirmed as he said that, as though protesting. Mike, in awe of his friend’s enormous, voracious man-eating gut, reached a hand out to stroke the moving, man-devouring belly sphere. It was hot to the touch, and he could feel Henry moving around inside Tyler’s bloated gut. 

Tyler’s cock was visibly erect, tentpoling the towel and rubbing against the moving ball of vore belly. Tyler’s eyes crossed in bliss and drool spilled from his full lips down onto the great upper curve of his belly that had eaten a guy alive and whole. Sweat trickled down his heaving, well-defined chest and rolled down the great shelf of his dome of vore-belly, which Tyler gave a hearty slap, causing his food (Henry) to visibly shift and squirm inside that massively stretched gut. Tyler’s round, dark nipples were hard on his twin sweat-drenched pectorals and he had a shit eating grin as he rubbed his moving, man-eating distended gut over and over again, clearly having the time of his (and Henry’s) life.

Mike continued to stoke and pet his best friend’s belly, feeling Henry wriggle and moan beneath the stretched skin of the gut that had eaten - was eating - him Tyler’s bellybutton was tight and deep and stretched with the expansion of his impossibly hot, Italian-American curly-haired stallion of a friend’s belly. His happy trail of dark hair ran up the steep curvature of his lower belly ending at the yawning orifice of his navel, dark and inviting. From within that awe-inspiring, terrifying groaning sack of bare belly, Henry let out a plea, completely muffled by the thick walls of Tyler’s distended gut. 

“How is he,” Mike asked, staring his friend right in that deep, dark gaping navel, ignoring Henry's muffled pleas for help. Henry was just food now - it didn’t matter what he wanted. All that mattered was that he was filling Tyler up - and out, and would soon be getting digested into belly for good.

Tyler let out a massive belly-shaking belch, causing his great distended stomach to bounce and wobble, slapping Mike in the face. He reached down and pressed Mike’s face right into his bellybutton, which was almost big enough to accommodate it. Mike felt like he was being squeezed into a tight, sweat-slick hole, feeling the soft, hot, sweating flesh of the belly pressed against him - it felt both insanely predatory and insanely hot. Mike felt Henry’s mouth open on the other side of the full belly - could make out the impression of his face straining against the stretched tummy flesh. Mike gave him a kiss - and then a slap, and felt Henry retreat into the belly, leaving only a handprint on the smooth expanse of olive-skinned Tyler-belly. 

“How is he?” Tyler said, voice raw, and drummed on his sweating belly with one hand while with the other one keeping Mike’s face pressed firmly against his man-eating bloated gut. “You can see him. What I’ve done to him. What I’m going to do to him. You tell me how he is.” He reached down and pushed Mike’s face deeper into his huge expanse of bare belly, belching as the pressure forced air from his bloated gut. Mike’s lips moved as he began to praise and worship his best friend’s maneating huge stomach, smooth and swollen as an overinflated beachball. As he worshipped he could feel Henry’s lips moving on the otherside of the massive gut, pleading and moaning - but already Tyler’s massive bare belly was beginning to gurgle. Tyler had fed Henry to his belly and his big bare belly was preparing to enjoy its feast.

As his bloated oversized belly began to gurgle and slosh and Henry began to wriggle and squirm within the vast sphere of his bared gut, Tyler’s tongue hung out of his full mouth, drool spilling onto his heaving hefty pecs and distended vore-belly. “Fuck,” he said, “Dude was baked,” and as though to emphasise the point as he belched out came a toke, covered in saliva. 

“Hey, a present! How considerate uh,” Tyler belched as he struggled to remember the name of the squirming lump distending his engorged belly. “Henry?” He took a deep puff of the toke, sweaty, round nippled pecs heaving in and out as he blew. 

“Here, why don’t you have some,” Tyler said, and reached down the wobbling expanse of his big olive-skinned man-eating gut and placed the toke in the deep crevice of his belly-button. From the depths, Mike could just make out a faint stream of smoke, like Tyler’s big belly was smoking a joint via its colossal belly button.

“Want some second hand smoke,” Tyler said grinning, as he patted his moving great gut with pride and pleasure. And then he placed his strong, muscular arms on Mike’s shoulders and forced him level with his gaping navel so that the smoke from Henry (now belly’s) toke blew straight into Mike’s open mouth. 

“There, we’re all enjoying that, right? Me and Mike and Henry - and my belly. Though Henry is my belly now. It’s a bit confusing man,” Tyler said and impatiently grabbed the sweating sides of his round, smooth stretched belly and shook his big belly up and down. “Bit too trippy for me, man. Hurry up and digest already. So we know who’s who. Me, Mike and my belly. No room for Henry there.” He let out a pec-bouncing belch and smacked his heaving chest with a fist. “Except in my belly. Lotta room for you in there. Now it’s full of your meat, Henry-belly. FUck you feel good as meat in my big gut.”

This provoked another round of frantic squirming inside Tyler’s smooth stretched bared gut. Tyler gasped, and flushed with excitement and began to slap his palms on the bloated drum of his belly as his meat wriggled and moved inside of his great man-eating stomach. Tyler reached into his belly button and plucked out the toke, fingers slipping and disappearing into the great crevice of his expanded navel. 

At last, the joint came free with an audible pop, causing Tyler’s belly of Henry to bounce and wobble in place. Mike knelt at the altar of his god and began to massage said groaning, squirming belly while Tyler relaxed with a joint, drenched in sweat and belly satisfied, full of a living meal. 

At last, Tyler let out a belly-bouncing belch and gave Mike, currently sucking gently on Tyler’s cock and plump balls, which churned with Tyler’s cum, going into overdrive as his man-eating flooded his muscular body with testosterone, a pat on the cheek. 

“C’mon. Let’s fix up this guy’s passport photo,” he said, as his thick cock plopped out of Mike’s cheek with an audible pop. “He was worried about getting through customs so we gotta make sure the picture’s right.” 

At that moment, Tyler’s big bare vore belly let out an ominous groan. Sweat trickled down Tyler’s heaving pecs and into the gaping abyss of his bellybutton. “Oof, my belly wants to start digesting this lump of meat. It’s all the weed. Fuck, no wonder whatshisname was such a fatty.” He let out another bellyshaking belch. “Not that I’m complaining, heh. You’re gonna make me fat, Henry.” He rubbed his huge sphere of olive-skinned college-boy eating belly with evident satisfaction. “Though, guess you already have made me fat.” Another resounding fleshy thud as Tyler gave his Henry-belly another slap, while Mike fiddled with the disposable camera.

A few minutes later while Tyler posed, stretching his arms above his head, stretching his thick round pectorals and stretching his big vore belly to the max, and then Mike was replacing the portrait of Henry in his passport with a more accurate picture of his current appearance. That is, a big smug belly hanging below Tyler’s muscular pecs, belly button gaping in the huge mound of flesh that was all that was left of Henry - being eaten alive inside Tyler’s voracious belly. 

Tyler admired his handiwork - or more accurately - bellywork - with satisfaction, before spilling his seed all over his belly and demanding Mike lick if off while inside his globe of man-eating gut, Henry continued to protest and moan. But he was food now, Mike thought with a shiver of delight - Tyler’s food. His only function was to fill out Tyler’s belly and please it and then be digested into perma-belly. 

Which, judging from the gurgling and belching of Tyler - was imminent. He grabbed Mike by the head, gave him a playful kiss (Tyler’s sexuality being straightish) and then forced him to kneel under that pendulous sphere of smooth, stretched vore belly - and suck Tyler as he climaxed, spilling load after load into Mike’s belly till his own belly was plump and round as Heny’s had been, filled out visibly with Tyler’s seed - the seed he’d produced from being so turned on by eating their friend alive and whole.

This explosion was followed by an ear-splitting belch, and at last Tyler’s belly wobbled and stilled - silent but for the gurgles and blorts of digestion. There was no more lump moving inside Tyler’s huge gut that had until very recently been Henry. Just a vast swollen distended belly - a belly that had just eaten a college boy alive.

Tyler let out a puff of smoke as his big bare belly began to digest its food (who had, until very recently, been better known as Henry - now just meat inside a swollen big belly). “Damn, secondhand smoke’s a killer huh,” he said, jiggling his belly, before collapsing onto the bed, big belly swaying above him. “Gonna get some shut eye and digest this big boy. Thanks for the meal, H. Sorry I didn’t show you all the sights. But hey, you saw something very few people get to see heh.” And then he began to snore. 

Mike watched his friend’s sleeping form, belly very slowly shrinking through the night as it ate Henry up. He couldn’t sleep even if he wasn’t so turned on he was jerking off almost continuously. The noise from the big post-vore belly was too great. And Tyler kept rubbing and slapping it in his sleep, along with the belches (smelling of Henry and weed) and drool running down his mouth. 

By the morning, said belly was about half its size, still distended and incongruous beneath Tyler’s muscled twin pecs, belly button huge in the swell of flesh - flesh that was all that was left of Henry. 

Tyler contemplated his post-vore gut, the round beachball of belly he’d turned Henry into and grinned. He swayed a little. “Man, he was baked when I sent him down the hatch,” he said grinning, looking a little out of it. “And boy that guy - that belly - has given me the munchies. Got all his weed digesting in my big belly. He’s my belly now. And as he’s my belly, stands to reason he wants some food.”

He shook himself, long dark hair sticking to his sweaty head and gave Mike’s still round belly a playful slap with the huge post-vore belly he’d made Henry into. “But since we’re in Amsterdam we should do something touristy too.” Tyler grinned at Mike, and gave him a wink, rubbing the belly that he’d put Henry in and turned him into for good. “What do you say to tattoos? I’ve got an idea for a matching design.”

Turned on and intrigued, Mike nodded, eyes fixed on the fat bare belly that was all that was left of their former friend - now just a sack of meat digesting in Tyler’s tank. Mike went to find his ID for the tattoo parlour, to find Tyler was already holding up both their drivers licenses. 

“COme on, let’s go walk off some of this meat.” Tyler belched. “Uh, I mean Henry.” He slapped his bare post vore gut, clearly intending to go out shirtless (though what shirts would fit over that stretched gut of man-meat?). 

And Mike was so distracted by his friend’s shameless display of his man-eating post-vore paunch of pot-belly, he failed to notice that his passport had also gone missing.

[smukmave]

Slavic Studies, part 1 by smukmave on DeviantArt

Probably my most popular story to date - it was intended to be a series but I could never really work out where I wanted it to go next, so it just sort of languished there on its own. It’s got more of a university student/professor vibe going on, so, if you’re into that, you might like this.

As always, feedback is welcome!

[smukmave]

With the aid of gravity by smukmave on DeviantArt

This was the first vore story I ever wrote. It’s pretty short and fairly simple but I still kinda like it. 😅

As with all of my other stories, feedback and suggestions are always welcome.