Pred view (hard version)
Tw: hard vore, bitting, digestion.
I don’t get to indulge often, I’m more inclined to release those I put away, especially as they are normally those I hold fondness for.
But those I do get to play with, I enjoy them for as long as I can. I can dunk them into my tea, watching them sputter and thrash in the hot liquid while I use a spoon to push them back should they try to climb over the rim. I would even use said spoon to push them under the liquid, but not letting them drown as that would be too easy.
If I didn’t feel like tea I would dunk them in my various toppings, roll them in sugar, drizzle them in honey or caramel. I like the natural taste when I plan to release one, that way I could easily imagine savoring their taste again when I get the opportunity to store them once more. But for those I get to keep, I want to work to get their natural flavor, even as they voice their appropriate displeasure at the situation. I would pull them in halfway at first, either legs or head since I was never one to lick things like ice cream. If I went with the legs I would relish in their yelling as I pulled each limb between my teeth, digging into the tense flesh until I get the faint taste of copper, but not breaking bone. If I went head first I would move the tiny body until I had their head between my teeth, listening to them scream as if I would pop the source of their entire self like a grape, but I wouldn’t do that. Thats no fun.
Either way I would lift them above my head with my jaws opened wide to show them where they will end up, where they will be processed into nutrients, where they as an individual will be over...and drop them.
I would savor the feeling of them fighting against the muscles of my throat, feeling the minute fluttering under my skin as the lump traveled from under my chin to vanish from sight under my collarbone, but not vanishing from touch. I would remain motionless as I would feel the soft fluttering brush past my heart and lungs, and only shift into a relaxed position one they’ve reached the final destination.
They wouldn’t end their journey alone though, with a stethoscope pressed to my skin, I would listen to every pitiful threat, begs for release, and the sobbing of acceptance. I could be kind and drink enough liquid for them to run out of air to breath, or I would be cruel and chew some antacids when it got too much and swallow more air to prolong the process. I would speak with them until they were no longer themselves.. reduced to nothing but a calorie rich sludge for my body to convert.
But again.... this is only when I get the rare chance to indulge~