hmmm. imagining a giant eating a dragon. pretty glistening wings disappearing quickly into his soft mouth, the reptile sliding down his throat as easily as if it were coated in butter -- who knew scales go down so smoothly? it's definitely bigger than the humans the giant usually preys upon, giving him a bit of a hard, round paunch that he has to knead at, but the dragon curls up in his belly nicely and doesn't squirm much. perhaps it feels at ease in such a hot environment. he's not complaining about the lack of squirms; something that big would give him a stomach ache if it moved too much. he curls up in the dragon's cave. the warm, heavy, filling presence in his gut lulls him to sleep in no time at all.
A hero cannot win every battle, and even dragons can be felled. However, you never thought that dragons could end up as prey. Let alone for a villainous, hybrid scientist of all things.
Fandom: Skylanders
Words: 1,591
There were times where you were chastised for being too reckless. Always running or flying off into danger, you’d get yourself into deep trouble one of these days; that’s what your friends said. You brushed those words off for the most part. You were a Skylander, and a dragon at that! Even the riskier missions had you raring to go! No evil-doer could keep you down!
Your latest quest, just like many others, had been picked up without hesitation. It was true that charging into a fight alone wasn’t usually a good idea. Especially if it involved some of the more infamous villains, such as the Doom Raiders. But this time it was only one Raider…surely it was a fight you could tackle? Why, you’d battled hulking beasts, elemental monstrosities, scheming villains of all shapes and sizes! How difficult could one mad doctor be?
Well, Dr. Krankcase’s lair hadn’t been a walk in the park. The chemical fumes were dizzying, and you spent a lot of time on pathways around and above vats of green, bubbling goo. And that was without mentioning the vicious, wooden monsters trying to impede your progress. But traversing hazardous, hostile environments was part of the job. Couldn’t let the danger dampen your spirits!
And then came the actual confrontation. Dr. Krankcase had greeted you quite cordially before jumping into battle. The goo he shot at you stung your scales, the Evilikin minions he threw together diverted your attention, and those spinning wooden spider legs of his were faster than they looked. You tried to fly in an attempt to dodge another spin attack, but a well-timed blast of goo shot you back down to the floor.
You were swiftly pinned down on all sides by his wooden legs. The centermost one tilted up your chin, forcing you to look up at him. Any attempt at struggling was blocked by his legs. You were utterly trapped. Krankcase holstered his goo guns, crossing his arms. All you could do was lay there, defeated, as the doctor smirked down at you.
“Some fight you put up, Skylander!” He exclaimed. “Aren’t dragons supposed to be some of the most powerful beings in Skylands?” You bared your sharp teeth, snarling at him.
“I’ll show you just how powerful they can be…once you let me get up, that is!” He just had to go there, didn’t he? You futilely tried to push him off, barely having the energy to attack now. Krankcase’s cackling only bruised your pride further.
“How precious. I could just eat you up!” he exclaimed, laughing again. “You’d make a good test subject, or bait. I’m sure your friends will pay a pretty penny to make sure your tail is safe!”
“Or they’ll just come and kick your wooden ass.” You retorted, sticking out your tongue. Krankcase growled, about ready to tie your muzzle shut. Then his stomach rumbled. Seems he’d been so busy preparing for a fight, he’d forgotten lunch. Oh well, he could just tie you up and get to that…but there was an idea itching at his brain. Somehow, the more he looked over you, the more…appetizing you looked. He wasn’t sure where the thought had come from, but it was tempting, the thought of simply eating you up.
Krankcase slowly licked his lips with his slimy tongue. It’d be a good way to cement his victory over you as well, reducing you to a satisfying meal. It helped that he wouldn’t be the only Doom Raider who’d eaten someone. Wolfgang and Gulper had done it a few times, and Chef Pepper Jack had a fondness for cooking up his defeated foes. The doctor was no master chef, but would be content with simply downing you in one.
Another, more insistent growl from his middle settled it. Krankcase used his front legs to lift you up into his hold. His gloved hands gripped your sides firmly, as if you were a sandwich. He stuck out his tongue, giving you a long, wet lick up the side of your face. Such a nice, meaty flavor, with a sugary tinge of magic…Krankcase couldn’t help licking you over and over again.
The whole time he’d been pondering over you, dread had been gradually pooling in your belly. You felt like a dragonfly in a spider’s web…and Krankcase had decided to take that literally. Your pulse quickened as he kept tasting you, smacking his lips.
“You-you wouldn’t!” you yelled. That damned, wolfish smirk of his widened.
“Oh, I most certainly would, my dear! Don’t worry, this won’t hurt a bit!” Krankcase laughed, opening his mouth wide. His lips closed around your muzzle, his thick, wet tongue rubbing against your scales. As your face was engulfed, you were quickly given a view of his mouth-and hungry throat, eager to swallow you.
You whimpered, but held out some hope that you’d be too big to swallow. He was larger than you, but not by much. Your horns were certain to stop him! You grinned as he struggled…but it was a momentary struggle. With a grunt of effort, Krankcase slid your head into his gullet, sealing your fate.
Your forelegs were held against your body, claws barely noticed as they were coated in saliva. Your wings were carefully folded as well, taking a bit more effort to fit in. The slick walls of his throat pulsed around you, gradually pushing you deeper. Your head was soon pushed into his stomach; the pink walls give a faint, green glow. It’s a bit concerning, but at least you won’t be in complete darkness.
By that point, Dr. Krankcase started to worry about actually fitting you inside his belly. Were his eyes bigger than his stomach? No…he was committed by this point. Holding your wings against your body, Krankcase braced himself to swallow again. As he managed to gulp down your middle, he grabbed your kicking hind legs and folded them against your body.
With each gulp, more of you spilled into the mad doctor’s belly. It was tight, forcing you to remain curled up. The walls were soft and squishy-but also horribly slimy. It also smelled strongly of pickles. There was barely any room to struggle, forcing you to remain mostly still as you were devoured.
The only parts of you sticking out of Krankcase’s mouth were your rump and frantically swishing tail. He took a few gulps, pausing at the base of your tail before slurping it up like a thick strand of spaghetti. It joined the rest of you in his belly, curling around you. Eaten by a villain…you couldn’t believe it! More slime was spread over you as Krankcase rubbed his belly.
“Wow…dragons are a lot tastier than I thought! Maybe I can find another easy catch like you somewhere!” Krankcase exclaimed. He patted his stuffed gut, his dress shirt somehow managing not to burst. You cringed, kicking and pushing as much as you could.
“Y-You better let me out!” You yelled. “Oh Eon, it’s so slimy in here…”
“Not a chance,” he said. “I’d suggest you get used to the slime. You’re gonna be in there for quite a while.” The doctor patted his gut once more and stretched his arms. Well, he’d dealt with the Skylander and had lunch in one go! Time to get back to work!
Although…did he have to? He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been so full. Plus you left quite a bit of weight in his gut. Maybe he could just enjoy the moment, rest up from that fight before properly locking you up. Smiling gently to himself, Krankcase scuttled deeper into his lair, heading to the living area. His gut rocked and cradled you as he smoothly crawled along, actually feeling weirdly soothing. It settled as he got comfortable on a worn sofa.
“You know, I think I’ll just rest for now. Thank you for filling me right up, Skylander!” He chuckled and rubbed where your head was. As Krankcase lounged back, a large, rounded robot stomped up to him. He smiled warmly and gave the Evilikin a wave. “Scrap Shooter, cancel the rest of my plans for this afternoon, please.”
“O-of course, boss, whatever you say.” he stammered. The lumber-and-steel robot was completely inedible, but it was admittedly intimidating watching the doctor swallow a small dragon whole. As Scrap Shooter stomped away, Krankcase turned his attention back to your small, pitiful struggles. It was almost cute, honestly.
“Calm down, you’ll only tire yourself out more.” He said, lazily stroking over his gut. There was a hiss and more squirms, but you’d given up on demanding to be released. Your squirms died down as well once you slowly accepted that he wasn’t spitting you out. Krankcase chuckled, rubbing you more. “There we go, that’s it. Just let ol’ Dr. Krankcase look after you, heh.”
You sighed and curled up further. Well, at least he probably wouldn’t kill you. It had been a while since you’d been swallowed, and you weren’t feeling any hints of digestion. Your adrenaline had worn down a while ago, and Krankcase’s stomach was starting to feel comfortable, even with the slime. The rubbing from outside didn’t feel so bad either. It actually did wonders in calming you further.
Your eyes closed as you slowly started to drift off. You’d plan your daring escape once Krankcase spit you out. This was only a minor setback; you’d get that vile mad scientist someday. It would be the first and last time you let yourself be eaten too…at least, that’s what you told yourself.
Hey, when you’ve got time, think you could write a story about a predator, through inebriation, swallows someone about a third their size and don’t remember, and the story’s mostly about the prey’s attempts to get the predator’s attention over the course of a week while hijinks ensue? Preferably anthros, nonfatal, if possible?
Content: soft vore, safe vore, unaware female anthro owl pred, trapped male anthro dragon prey, drunk pred, struggles, exhaustion, minor belly bulge, pred in discomfort, descriptive internal, food in with prey, multiple stomachs, awkward end, secondhand embarrassment
Graffa woke up with a belch. She stretched and wiped drool from the corner of her mouth. She couldn't remember a single thing about last night. Well, that wasn't quite true. She remembered taking someone home with her- a dragon! The little fella has been an absolute hoot at the party.
She rubbed her eyes with clawed hands, then scratched a feathered forearm. She looked around, her head turning more than 180° thanks to her owl anatomy. Well, he didn't seem to be here now. She got up to get ready for the day.
Despite appearances, Herbert, the dragon, was still there. In a bashful, daring gambit he had convinced the far from sober lady to eat him whole. She had been clumsy about it, hands fumbling to stuff him past her beak and down her gullet. He had helped as best he could, wriggling in and not fighting the waves of contracting muscles.
From there he had slid into her first stomach. Its small capacity was stretched to its limits around his scaly body. It had made lovely gurgles and threatening growls as it filled with fluids which gushed around him. They stung his nose and eyes a little, but they couldn't do much else to his tough hide.
He could feel her patting or pounding at the bulge he made high in her abdomen. The repeated blows helped move him along, deeper into her digestive tract. One short squeeze through a sphincter sent him into her gizzard. This was much more spacious, the tough, smooth walls bulging only slightly around the little guy.
Suddenly he was squished firmly from one side. It felt like a tight hug, but in reality she had flopped into bed and passed out. When he tried to wriggle into a more comfortable position, the stomach walls flexed around him. Muscular folds clenched around a limb or his head, only to slowly release it after a.few moments. The entire gizzard shifted as the walls tried to grind him with little success. They relied on the enzymes to soften what came through, and those had failed to affect him.
It was there, in her second stomach, that Herbert now lay. After a restless night of a churning stomach, he was drowsy and limp. When he felt her move, he was startled into alertness. Now was his chance to get out! He squirmed weakly, legs kicking and sinking feet into squishy muscular walls.
She burped again, just a small one this time. She had gotten changed into clothes and was headed to the kitchen for breakfast. Oddly, she didn't feel too hungry. In fact, now that she thought about it, her stomach felt really strange. Was her gizzard doing backflips inside?
She gave it a firm rub. He felt it- it was rather nice- and pushed out against where he felt it. Yes, she was noticing!
Graffa frowned as she felt her gizzard move. It sure felt firm. What had she eaten last night? If only she could remember- then she could avoid it. Whatever it was, it was making her awfully bloated. Fairly unappetized, she settled on a piece of fruit for breakfast.
While she thought, her small meal made its way to the gizzard. Herbert didn't feel the food so much- it was all the same warm body temperature- as he felt the stomach respond. The entire thing clenched around him and began to grind at its contents. He groaned and tried to relax, not daring to resist the muscular organ's will as it squished him this way and that. Slowly but surely, whatever she ate became a paste. Then it easily slid into the next portion of her digestive system, unlike him.
She went over to the couch and flopped down. She smoothed her ruffled feathers and rubbed her aching belly. Maybe some TV would help.
While she relaxed, Herbert was finally able to doze off. It seemed the stomach was satisfied with her meager offering.
She changed position a few times, and eventually it jostled him awake. She was on the move again, this time getting a snack. Resting didn't seem to be helping, and eating hadn't hurt.
As mushy chips joined him, Herbert was now energized enough to cry out. "HEY! YOU! Uh- Graffa!"
When he was only met with silence he wriggled his head closer to the outer wall and yelled, "You big feathered beaut! Let me out! I'm still in here!"
Between flesh, feathers, and a TV turned up to beat the sound of her crunching, he didn't stand a chance of being heard. He shouted and hollered until his voice was hoarse. The humid air trapped with him tasted slightly of salt.
He tried a few more times throughout the day with similar results. By evening he was reduced to whines and whimpers, "Please Graffa… hear me… let me out of here, I don't want to be a midnight snack…"
He coughed weakly. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't form a single word. So much for that.
The day after the next day, the owl was still feeling bloated. It was like a bowling ball had settled in her gut. No amount of rubbing or snacking or medication could soothe it for long. Whatever she had eaten to do this, she would certainly avoid it like the plague- once she figured out what it was.
She considered calling in to work briefly. Remembering the big meeting with her supervisor's supervisor ended that line of thought. Graffa knew she had to go to work. The drive was uneventful, and that heavy feeling in her gut didn't fade.
When she got there and sat down in the board room, she absently rubbed at it a bit.
When her boss' boss arrived, and the meeting began, trouble started. Herbert had finally gotten a few winks of sleep during her drive, but the movement to get into the building and sit down had brought him back to wakefulness. How had she not noticed him? It was time to make her notice.
The doll sized dragon kicked and failed as best he could. Her stomach reacted immediately, pushing back and growling. The more he moved, the louder her stomach noises got. Surely this would draw her attention. It might even make her stomach release it on its own.
He was not so lucky. Beneath her feathers she blushed hard as her stomach imitated a whale with its rumbling sounds. It was clear the boss had noticed, though he had the professionalism to say nothing. Maybe it was her place to?
During a lull in the conversation she cleared her throat, "Sorry about the ah- noises. Stomach's been feeling off all day."
"Well thank you for coming in anyway. I'm incredibly busy, as you know."
She nodded. Speaking didn't make her feel much better. Thankfully the meeting moved on from there. Even better, Herbert had exhausted himself. She made it through the rest of the day with little incident.
The unfortunate prey had a lot of time to think. How could he gain her attention? He certainly didn't want to live in here forever! Even if it was warm, and soft, and the walls embraced and just about massaged him. Whenever he thought about the nicer points, he found himself stroking the nearest fold of flesh. In different circumstances this would be a fantastic stomach.
It took him a whole day to think of another way to vye for her attention. As she sat down to supper, he wriggled into position.
She still hadn't found her appetite. As a result, meals were small and snacks were frequent. It was almost like something was taking up her stomach space rent free. She ate slowly, doing it more because she knew she had to than because she felt hungry.
As the sludge joined poor Herbert, he was jostled by the stomach walls. He squirmed to keep his position. His hand slid along the undulating wall beneath him until it found the place where the mashed food left. He plugged it with a hand. He yelped in surprise as it sucked in his arm a bit. All the better to keep the food out, he mused.
Graffa felt a cramp low in her belly as it clenched around his arm. She groaned and pushed at it, trying to move whatever it was along. Her probing rubs squished the walls against his arm and face, and she did succeed in pushing his arm deeper.
He yelped, "Hey! Careful! There's someone in here!" But the stomach drowned him out. All she heard was loud gurgles which rumbled across her abdomen.
Terrified of being sucked in entirely, he struggled to get his arm free. His free hand pushed and slid at the shifting walls while trying to brace to pull. The trapped arm wiggled back and forth. When he tugged on it, it pushed himself down against the bottom of the stomach.
The continual downward strokes from outside the stomach did nothing to help his cause. He struggled vainly for quite some time. At last, he was too tired to fight it anymore. He couldn't stop whatever would happen. He was almost too tired to feel terror at that prospect. Almost.
After making her way to bed much earlier than usual, Graffa belched. She grimaced as her gizzard cramped and another burp came up. The movements jerked Herbert upward, freeing his limp arm. They weren't enough to send him all the way up like he dared to hope.
Relatively free, he settled curled up inside her stomach. His numb arm was cradled gently against his chest.
They both drifted off to sleep with difficulty.
After the failure of his last attempt, Herbert was stumped on how to make her notice him. For days he just lay curled up in her belly, letting it churn around him. Nothing had worked. Maybe he would be stuck like this forever…
His salvation was a phone call.
One of his friends had been asking around when he didn't answer his texts. The sleuth had figured out that at last weeks party his pal had gone home with Graffa. Mutual friends of friends were able to get him her phone number.
Graffa answered the phone, "Hello? Graffa speaking."
"Hi. I'm a friend of Herbert's and I've been really worried about him. Do you know when he left your house? Assuming he made it there," he added grimly. He had had too much time to over think.
"No, I'm not sure actually. I haven't seen him since-" A memory of holding the little dragon in her hands popped up. She trailed off. Eyes slowly sank to her own belly. "Oh- I'll call you back maybe. I might know where he is."
"Wait can you-" She hung up.
With a grimace she poked at her belly, "Herbert..?"
His name rumbled around him. Heart leaping to his throat, he struggled hard, "Yes! YES! In here!"
Her amber eyes widened. At least- well, at least he was alive.
She scurried off for a towel then let him up and out with great effort. She rubbed him with the soft, dry towel while not daring to look at him.
He inhaled deeply, savoring the fresh air. His cheeks were hot, unsure if he should be explaining what happened. She felt much the same way.
They both awkwardly started, then cut off at hearing the other. He spoke up again, "I guess I should be going…"
She nodded mutely. As he tracked down his things from where they had been tucked out of sight, she just stared at the floor. Belatedly she remembered, "Hey, let your friend know you're okay- I assume you're okay?"
Old Aleric: I am sorry but I haven't seen your brother but perhaps we can discuss over dinner- BURP...Pardon me must be something I ate
Dragons brother/ Alerics previous meal: HELP!!
This is a comic idea I have had for a while.Aleric is confronted by a dragon looking for his brother ,unaware his brother is currently in the larger dragons stomach .Aleric takes the opportunity to lay out the charm to seduce a future meal
