Length: 1900 words
Vore type: M/M, oral vore
Fandom: None
Other info: willing prey, feral snake pred, implied digestion
Summary: A snake tries to nap on a golf course, and, somehow, gets a meal out of it.
Ssint wiggled his long, sinuous body, burying himself just a bit deeper in the sand. He had been hesitant to leave the safety of the woods, but the pit of sand, located fortuitously amid an otherwise uniform space of gentle, rolling green hills, was a warm and welcome change from the cool shade of the surrounding forest. And luckily, neither hungry harpy willing to risk their life nor passing dragon appeared in the sky as he'd made his move. He flicked his tongue out; his surroundings were strangely sterile of rodents and birds, but the scent of humans and their ilk was thick, along with metal. Of no matter; Ssint would simply have to stay aware of their movements.
…well, somewhat aware. He was pretty well-hidden, he had to admit, his golden-brown hide against the yellow-white sand. And with the pleasant heat, it was sorely tempting to nap so soon on finding his new spot. The serpent yawned, stretching his jaws and setting his lower ones back into place against each other-
Before he could finish closing them, something small and hard flew directly into his throat, its speed forcing it easily a foot deep. Ssint drew his head back - partly from the blow, but also in panic. Was he under attack? Was that just a small, very stupid bird? His forked tongue shot out again, wiggling up and down, as he tasted for any useful differences. In his mouth, a somewhat grassy taste had appeared, likely with the strange object. And the scent of humans - no, human and catfolk - grew stronger.
Ssint lowered his head when he realized what that meant; unfortunately, he did so right as an orange, striped cat lady appeared over the hill, along with a human man in strange, checker-patterned attire. The tiger pointed at him, and with growing dread, Ssint watched as they approached.
They stopped at the border to the sandy area, and from his hiding-place just barely covered by the sand, Ssint saw that the tiger, rather than being nude, wore a dress patterned like her fur would be, and the human wielded a thin, metal club. Did he intend to use that on him? He could only catch snippets of their whispered conversation:
"Just … two stroke …" the catfolk led.
"Nonsense … need to find … hidden."
"Do you not see the snake?!" she hissed, louder than the rest.
"Oh … idea," the human whispered back before taking a step forward. In a more audible voice, he addressed Ssint. "Excuse me, my good snake. Did you happen to see where my ball landed? It flew this way, but I lost sight of it over the green."
Ssint briefly debated pretending he didn't hear them, or that he didn't exist, but they definitely knew he was there. So, he raised his head out of the sand, shaking the grains off. "Er, I don't think so? What did it look like?"
The man held the fingers in his free hand apart a small amount - a similar size to the thing that had intruded on his throat. "It would've been about this big, white, covered in dimples. Going moderately quick, if I may toot my own horn."
"Hard to the touch?"
The tiger stared at her companion in disbelief. "You hit him?!" she said, exasperated.
"It's not like I was aiming for the sand trap!" he replied. This seemed to mollify her as he turned back to Ssint. "Er, yes. I'm terribly sorry; I hope I didn't strike anything vital?"
"Not… really?" The snake undulated his body, this time ascending from his hiding place; the tiger's eyes widened, and she took a step back. He gestured with the tip of his tail to a spot just before his stomach. "It went pretty directly down my throat, feels like it's around here."
"…I don't suppose you could give it back?" the man asked.
The catfolk tugged at his arm. "Just drop a new one and take the penalty! Before this snake… I dunno, but he's big!"
Ssint shook his head. "The ball's not big enough."
"C'mon, Rin, you know I always play it where it lies if possible," he remarked to the tiger, then addressed Ssint again, "could I follow it down and try to knock it out from there?"
Ssint looked him over. He'd eaten bigger without problem. But… "Disgorging meals is pretty uncomfortable, and really time-consuming to do safely, and I suspect miss… Rin? would want me to do that for you. So I'd rather not."
"I could treat you to a bigger meal after," the man said, at the same time Rin replied, "no, you can keep him."
This startled both Ssint and the man, but the tiger ignored the snake and stared her friend back down with a level gaze. "I still want to go to the party after this. So, Ter, mister "the recall ball is too expensive," you can either take the penalty strokes or pay for a rez, because I'm not waiting for you to go in and out of a giant snake just for the possibility of saving one stroke on a game we're playing for fun." Her tail lashed behind her, and Ssint swore she started to bear her fangs more as she continued.
Ter pulled a watch from his pocket, then nodded. "Rin, you're absolutely right. You did say you wanted to finish up for that, and I lost track of time. Though, er, could we pick this game up another day, maybe even tomorrow?"
Rin brightened. "Yes! Great! Good idea, let's just start on this hole next time, and-"
"Wonderful!" The man handed Rin the metal club, hopped down into the sandy pit, and approached Ssint's head. "Mind if I get my head and hands in last? I figure I'll have to do this like billiards." He lifted one foot out of his shoes and held it out to the snake.
"What?!" Rin shouted in disbelief. Ssint, operating largely on automatic instinct, swirled around Ter and lifted him in a couple powerful coils. It wasn't until he had the man all but immobilized and inches from his jaws that he paused and looked at the two. Ter, looking over Ssint's coils, nodded. Rin, however, had one hand against her face. "Rilla's whiskers… fine. Be my guest."
Ssint opened wide and guided the man's feet and ankles directly into his throat. He tasted of sand and sweat and cotton, or at least his clothes did. It was an odd experience. Not from the taste - a number of other humans, and even an elf once, had wandered from the grassy area into the forest, and from there into Ssint's jaws - but from his utter lack of struggling even while he still breathed. Or, near lack of struggling, but even still, Ter only pulled at his arms; his spine and legs stayed relatively very still. Ssint worked his jaws further up the human's legs, his lower jaw stretching to accommodate the growing thickness.
"Uh, good snake, would you mind freeing my arms? I'd like them over my head," Ter requested. For any fighting prey, Ssint would have immediately squeezed him harder, possibly even crushing the bones in his arms and ribs. But Ter… wanted to be eaten, for some reason. Another swallow carried his snout up to Ter's hips. The snake loosened his grip, before his own throat pulled the human's hands in and trapped them there.
The man yanked one arm up, then the other, and struggled no more. His rear slid easily past the snake's jaws, and just like that, Ssint had over half of him. The snake unwound all but one loop around Ter's upper arms, and ate faster; he was confident he was safe, but that was no reason to dawdle when there was food to be had. More and more of his scales stretched to allow his meal's body deeper, and Ter wore a flesh lined, yellow-scaled suit up to his chest, then his neck. Ssint freed his arms from the last loop, and confined much more of him in his gullet.
As the taste of Ter's hair laid across Ssint's tongue, the human called out to Rin, "pass me the club, would you? Don't think I can grab it from inside." The tiger passed him the tool, and his next words were for Ssint, "swallow away, good snake! But, if you wouldn't mind keeping your body straight and mouth open, that would make things easier."
Arms, of course, were not that difficult to swallow, nor the even thinner club; as the metal slid into the snake's throat, Ssint took the time to readjust his lower jaw once again. And then, with a final swallow, the outside world couldn't see the man or his club, except for as a lumpy bulge in his neck, and soon his stomach. Intentionally or not, Rin verified this fact by peering into Ssint's still-open mouth. "Yep, there he goes. Silly man."
She stood and stretched, then walked over to where Ter had stopped moving deeper. With a curled finger, so as not to scratch him, she prodded the snake's thickened gut. "This is beyond stupid, I hope you know."
"Ah-hah!" Ter exlaimed, albeit muffled by the layers of muscle, scale, and fat around him. Ssint felt him move around inside - again, it wasn't strange for struggles to be weak, but it was odd for them to not be struggles. After another brief moment of stillness, the human-turned-meal jolted; a second later, the strange, hard object from earlier flew from Ssint's jaws. Or, well, rolled gently. It quickly picked up sand, rolled downhill, and came to a stop against Ssint's tail, near one side of the pit.
Rin carefully stepped over the human-sized lump of scales and stared at the ball. Ssint watched her. After a couple seconds, she leapt to the grassy edge in one bound, then turned to face the snake. "Oh, a word of advice: don't rest in these. Nice as they may seem, enough golfers are bad enough that you'll get walked on a lot."
"Oh, really?" Ssint gathered his body out of the sand a bit more, when an idea struck him. "By the way, Rin, would you like to join your friend?"
"Hm?"
"Well, I know you don't want to waste time, but I have room in my stomach, and wonder if you'd like to spend an hour or two digesting."
The tiger lady snickered, then burst out laughing. Infectious as it was, Ssint joined in, too, giggling at his own joke. Once she'd recovered, Rin stood up and wiped a tear from her eye. "Man, I must be tired if that one gets me. But no, snake, I'll let Ter spend that time on his own. See you tomorrow - or not, if you wind up not staying there."
As she walked away, Ssint looked over to the tree line. If what she said was true, it would be worth it to head back… but he was also weighed down by a human who was growing increasingly fidgety as his stomach acids started to seep into his skin. So, with a series of wiggles, Ssint gradually buried himself again, and resolved to move… later.
Length: 1100 words
Vore type: M/???, oral vore, cock vore
Fandom: None
Other info: unwilling prey, anthro dragon pred, belly rubbing, belches, digestion
Summary: Dragon has had a bit too much to eat. Luckily, he has an otter.
"Ugh," Azurel groaned, leaning his scaly blue head back against the couch. "Uuuugggghhh…" he repeated. While he wasn't completely pinned by his heavy gut, nor chained in place by the heft of his scaly sack, the dragon moving from his spot definitely did not feel worth the effort.
It was a sentiment shared by the otter standing before him, tail swishing and cock nearly as hard as Azurel's. But while the dragon preferred not to move from exhaustion, Gabe had a different reason for keeping the scaly predator still. As he all but fell against his boyfriend's swollen belly, immediately purring, Azurel had to admit his enthusiasm was infectious.
The otter's paws slid all around the dragon's gut, gently pressing back in against the struggles of the prey unfortunate enough to still be alive inside. Azurel reached out and hugged him close, running his claws through Gabe's thick, brown fur. This coaxed a moan out from the otter, who leaned even further against him. The dragon's stomach groaned and gurgled, momentarily drowning out Gabe's purrs, and the pair shared a look.
Azurel opened his maw, but rather than stuff his boyfriend inside like he had his other prey, he instead let out a loud, wet belch, right in Gabe's face. The otter scrunched his face up as drool, feathers, and an acid-eaten bra flew at him, and though he groaned in complaint, his swishing tail and erection pressed firmly against Azurel's gut told a different story.
"Feeling any better?" Gabe asked, grinding his hips against the dragon. Already, the remnants of the struggles from within weakened further, and Azurel knew from plenty of experience that the otter knew exactly how to help.
"Not enough…" he moaned, "why didn't I stop at three?"
"Because I wanted to see you eat the witnesses, too." Furry, webbed paws shoved slowly but firmly into the blue, scaly belly, and got another gurgle in response.
"Seven was too much, in hindsight."
Gabe paused. "Seven? I saw six."
Azurel took a deep breath in, and as he let it out, his stomach churned again, accompanied by the cracking of a number of acid-weakened bones. "You were shoving that wolf down my throat, when that ferret lady… I guess decided to choose where she'd end up." He picks up one of his legs to jostle the heavy sack resting between them; while he couldn't see it, it felt like it was already less lumpy than his stomach. "And I guess she had a fondness for being dragon jizz."
"Mmmm…" Gabe hummed, running his paws down his boyfriend's body. He crouched out of sight and wrapped both paws around the thick, people-devouring monster standing proudly between Azurel's legs. A warm, slick spot slid from the base of his shaft, up over each ridge, and finally to the tip. The dragon gasped in pleasure and flared his wings, but arching his back was a no-go against the formidible weight of his stomach. Gabe stood back up, stretched with a smile, then leaned forward on his boyfriend's gut like a table. "Feels to me like she's just about done in there, along with the other two~"
Azurel reached up and scratched behind the otter's ear, getting him to just about melt into a purring mess on his overfed gut. "Then keep rubbing, my dear gutslut, and I'll make sure they find their proper place in and around you," he rumbled, before wincing and dropping back against the couch.
The otter's paws got to work, kneading more purposefully at the stretched, scaly belly, but smirked at his boyfriend. "You know, if I wanted to, I could leave you trapped here, maybe get you off and make a mess of this room. No otter in the line of fire."
"You won't," Azurel replied, confident.
"Mmmyeah." Gabe pressed his paws in, left, then right, then left… and then shoved both in. Azurel's stomach groaned again, and Gabe leaned in, only for Azurel's scaly hand to push him back. The dragon leaned his head back and let out another loud belch, this time accompanied by a wide gout of flame. While Gabe stared at the fiery show, he felt the dragon's stomach shrink down slightly around what was left of his meal.
Azurel snapped his jaws shut and rocked his head forward again, steam still rising from his closed mouth. "Not burned, right?"
"Right," Gabe said, already going back to affectionately pressing against Azurel's belly. After a brief glance down, the otter pulled his tail around and curled it around the heavy balls below. They were already back to their usual shape, albeit not size, so the lucky trio to become dragon seed had already done so, no otter affection required.
Of course, judging by Azurel's unfocused eyes and heavier breathing, "required" and "desired" were two very different things.
After several minutes, Azurel finally slumped down on the couch and kicked his legs up, using his own tail to ensure his sack got safely on the cushions. He beckoned Gabe towards him, and with a smile, Gabe climbed onto the couch as well and immediately straddled his beloved dragon, rubbing their cocks together even as he kept his paws focused on the scaly belly.
Azurel groaned again, but this time more in pleasure than pain. "Next time, you're helping with witnesses if you're so concerned about them."
Gabe grinned down at him, purring and visibly enjoying how soft his boyfriend's prey were becoming on their way to being simply more fuel for the scaly predator. "I dunno, next time, I think you can fit eight."
"Mreh," the dragon complained, launching a playful swipe at Gabe's arms.
The two of them continued, rubbing and purring and grinding against each other, until Gabe paused and leaned down until he rested fully atop his boyfriend, muzzle to muzzle. "Hold on, boyf, I know the kind of magic you do. You not digesting these guys faster was a choice."
Azurel simply grinned and leaned forward to lick the otter's furry cheek. "Yep, sure was."
The two stared at each other with matching smirks until Gabe pushed himself back up and continued rubbing. "Silly dragon."
Length: 2100 words
Vore type: M/M oral vore, willing prey
Fandom: None
Other info: furry robot pred, human prey
Summary: There are certain benefits to befriending a mad* scientist Synth. And certain risks, but I'm sure it's fine.
*Teq would surely argue that sanity is a meaningless concept to a robot, and therefore it cannot be lost
(Synths are an open species created by Vader-San)
Sam blinked his eyes open; he was laying in some sort of cushioned tube, like the ones in Teq's lab. He tapped the glowing "exit" button and sat up, groggy. Around the tube was, well… Teq's lab. The practically second home of his Synth friend, the place was littered with tools, notes, and half-finished contraptions that it swore it had put in "the most efficient places possible." Today, the focus seemed to be around the biggest 3D printer Sam had ever seen, covered in papers with diagrams and measurements all over them.
Teq itself stood over its desk, presumably with even more complicated papers. [Oh, hello again Sam. Did you wake up well?] it asked, turning its head so its visor could "look" at him. Really, with its tail plugged into the wire hanging from the ceiling, Teq had seen Sam through every wall-mounted camera pointed near him, but he appreciated the familiar body language.
"Er, yeah, thanks for the makeshift bed, but I don't remember climbing in."
[Perfectly normal,] it replied, its electronic wink pulsing a mischievous yellow and blue, [seeing as you didn't.]
"Right, yeah, I remember some new scan you wanted to…" a yawn interrupted Sam, and he reached up in a big stretch, one that drew his attention to his outfit.
Or rather, his lack thereof.
"Teq, do you know why I'm naked?"
[Yes.]
Sam sighed. "Care to tell me?"
[Oh, absolutely!]
A few more seconds passed, and another sigh. "This stopped being funny the second time you did it."
The corners of the Synth's mouth pulled back in a grin, filled with its flat, blunt set of metal "teeth." [I wholeheartedly disagree! Buuuut it does wear thin quickly. Your clothes are folded over there,] it pointed towards a bench where, indeed, Sam's clothes sat, [but if everything goes well, you won't need them.]
"Uh-huh." Sam swung his legs out of the tube, grimaced when they touched the frigid floor, and reluctantly sat back down. "But I'll hear you out. What are you up to?"
[I've discovered a method to fork humans!] Teq said, its lights flashing like glittering gold. [Sinera contributed the magic part, since I am incapable of thaumic conductivity. Perhaps another day I will attempt to optimize away the safeguards she applied, but that requires many more tests.]
Sam rolled his eyes, smiling. "Is this leading up to a "I can't fork you if you're not naked" joke?"
Teq simply stuck out its metal, segmented tongue; Sam noticed that it was wetter than the Synth usually kept it. It crossed its arms and huffed, [well, not if you're going to take it away from me. I would like one more trial, however, before introducing a variable in participant.]
"Okay, so… forking is your "I'm being a funny computer" way of saying cloning, right? How many Sams are there running around right now?"
[One, if you count yourself.]
"Oh, so you failed, but you want to try again?"
Teq shook its head. [Every single trial has passed! It just… turns out having more than one active at a time causes problems. I won't elaborate.]
A sense of dread grew in Sam's chest. "So… so what happened to the others?"
[I ate them,] the Synth said simply, [accidentally scanning your browser history gave me a great idea, really, that reduces the net energy cost per test!]
"Am I-" Sam's breath caught in his throat, "- am I next?" He rose into a crouch, as though thinking he could run in a facility where the robot dragon controlled every machine and the doors.
[Ideally, yes, but you know how I am about consent forms for research participation.] Teq grabbed a few sheets of paper and flipped through them, likely more for dramatic effect than actually recalling information. [I was hoping for a nice, round 16, but if you would rather not, I can simply attempt to court a new subject. I'll keep you in the loop, of course.]
Sam shook his head and climbed out, gritting his teeth at the cold against his feet, and the distinct lack of anything keeping his body heat in. "Well, I'm glad to hear I can avoid you killing me by just telling you not to." He shivered. "Fuck, it's chilly in here."
[I have been keeping my internal spatial storage at 30 degrees Celsius,] the Synth offered, pointing one finger helpfully into its mouth, [and the path from intake to storage is of a similar temperature.]
Trying to keep his teeth from chattering, Sam stepped towards his clothes. "Is that supposed to convince me to let you eat me?"
[It was a convincing argument three times, though putting your clothes in your line of sight seems to have disrupted this trend.]
The man stopped and turned. "Three times? Wouldn't I remember?"
Teq stepped closer, but remained at a short distance. [Moreso than I anticipated, which is an annoyingly convincing argument towards the existence of souls - I might be out a few hundred bucks. But still, scarcely more than the character in that game you played last night remembered if you asked hir to use hir tail, penis, or mouth to eat your character.]
Sam nearly jumped with shock, but his blush meant his face, at least, didn't feel cold. "H-how did you-"
[Fifth trial, you used it as an analogy to your situation while sitting inside me.] It winked at him, the dotted oval briefly changing into a lit-up caret. [However, I only possess a mouth. Perhaps for later experiments or leisure…]
Sam crossed his arms, and walked up to it. "Fifteen times?" Teq nodded. "You're not telling me a lower number to trick me into agreeing to more?"
[Nor am I lying with a higher number to imply a greater confidence of success,] it agreed. [I chose this method of… duplicate prevention to increase the odds of your cooperation and to avoid a mess. I supect I will use its appeal to attract a new test subject after one final successful run.]
An uneasy look crossed the man's face. "I… hadn't thought of the "higher number" thing until you brought it up." He sighed, and looked at Teq's draconic face. "Please be honest again: did I enjoy being swallowed and, uh… whatever you did to me?"
[Yes, unless you lied to me about it. I did not see utility in attempting to discern that.] It looked away with its hand on its chin, as though thinking. [With the exception of an unfortunately uncomfortable entrance. If you decide to go one more time, I will eat you feet-first to prevent this.]
"…alright. Load up that consent doc, Teq."
[Thank you~!] it replied, with a small jingle. Its facial display showed a text document, and its upturned eyes soon faded from view. [You know the deal, read carefully, button at the bottom. Basically the same thing you've done for other experiments, just with a different procedure name.]
"Yeah, yeah…" Sam muttered, flicking his finger along the display. Text scrolled by far too fast to read, but at least it didn't take long to reach the indicated button. One tap later, and the document vanished, soon replaced by Teq's familiar eyes. "Okay, so now do I- gah!"
There was a clicking noise as Teq extended its tail, curled it behind Sam's legs and back, and then gently pushed the man back onto it. Sam immediately stiffened, anticipating a similar chill, but whatever Teq had done to keep its insides heated had somewhat extended to its tail - while definitely not warm by any measure, it was… better than room temperature. He was jolted out of his thoughts by a much greater heat around his feet and ankles. Looking down, Sam was greeted by the view of his synthetic friend's head by his knees, and the inside of its mouth visible in small gaps.
[Are you okay?] Teq asked. It took Sam a second to remember that, although the Synth usually moved its mouth while talking, it technically just used speakers. He nodded, and Teq's tail smoothly drifted closer, feeding more of his legs into the warm faux-throat. Once most of his thighs were gone, a quiet whirring accompanied a new sensation: like a massage chair, rolling pressure constantly pushed at his legs from all sides, coaxing him down.
When the heat of Teq's mouth and throat washed over his upper thighs and exposed balls, Sam flushed red and quickly covered himself with his hands. The Synth's eyes - and even its display background - tinted pink, and, teasing him, it remarked, [I guess I should ignore that rather than… encouraging you. Good to see you continue to enjoy this.] Its tail pushed him forward, and its throat changed from a gentle pull to more of a controlled slide.
With everything below his chest fully inside Teq's gullet or deeper, Sam realized he could kick around a little, and that it felt like paddling through a thick liquid. Teq offered no time to think about what that meant - not that Sam needed much - and the man soon found his world dark as the Synth shut its mouth past his head, while the bottom of its "stomach" soon forced his legs to curl up. Moments later, all of him was sitting in the strange, dark hot tub, with luckily enough room to keep his head above the liquid.
[How was it?]
"Very… relaxing," Sam decided, "although, I think I expected more of a swallowing motion than the constant slide."
[Interesting… I will keep that in mind when we do this in the future, assuming further successful tests.]
"When, not if?" He laughed, and tried to pat Teq's insides, but found that the liquid seemed thicker, and harder to move through. "Getting ahead of yourself, aren't you?"
[I have a measured 100% success rate at talking you down my throat,] it pointed out, [and with a similar frequency of arousal, I expect you to ask it of me, especially once the process is further refined. Plus, you may want better footage than security camera video.]
"…fair enough. I definitely want a copy of those."
[And you'll have it. Goodbye now, Sam. I'll see an earlier you in a few minutes.]
The man didn't get the chance to think about what that meant.
--
Sam blinked his eyes open; he was laying in some sort of cushioned tube, like the ones in Teq's lab. He tapped the glowing "exit" button and sat up, groggy. Around the tube was, well… Teq's lab. The practically second home of his Synth friend, the place was littered with tools, notes, and half-finished contraptions that it swore it had put in "the most efficient places possible." Today, the focus seemed to be around the biggest 3D printer Sam had ever seen, covered in papers with diagrams and measurements all over them.
Teq itself stood over its desk, presumably with even more complicated papers. [Oh, hello again Sam. Did you wake up well?] it asked, turning its head so its visor could "look" at him. Really, with its tail plugged into the wire hanging from the ceiling, Teq had seen Sam through every wall-mounted camera pointed near him, but he appreciated the familiar body language.
"Er, yeah, thanks for the makeshift bed, but I don't remember climbing in."
[Perfectly normal,] it replied, its electronic wink pulsing a mischievous yellow and blue, [seeing as you didn't.]
"Right, yeah, I remember some new scan you wanted to…" a yawn interrupted Sam, and he reached up in a big stretch, one that drew his attention to his outfit.
Or rather, his lack thereof.
"Teq, do you know why I'm naked?"
[Synthesizing clothes around a body would have posed an unnecessary challenge and risk.] It turned, walked over, and offered a hand out of the tube. [Say, do you know anyone else who would want to be eaten by a Synth? For once, some external bias in selection would be welcome.]
Sam took the hand and cringed at the chill of the floor; helpfully, Teq pointed him to a pile of his clothes on a nearby bench. "I… maybe? Wait, what do you mean anyone ELSE?" he asked while putting on some protection from the lab's temperature.
The yellow and blue smiling eyes returned as Teq handed him a USB stick. "I could tell you directly, but I think it will be much more fun for you to find out looking through these files."
Length: 1600 words
Vore type: Oral vore, unwilling prey, F/M
Fandom: None
Other info: snake/anthro, digestion as threat
Summary: A fox on the run finds a fortuitous hiding spot, and the snake in it is very friendly! Surely nothing will go wrong.
David vaulted over a fallen log, then took a tight left around a boulder, using his fluffy to counterbalance, before using it to leap across a stream. His pursuer may have been faster than him, but he knew these woods like the back of his hand. Unfortunately, that didn't mean the fox could keep it up forever, or even lose his tracker; he'd have to settle on a hiding place, but all the trees took too long to climb, the bushes were too thin, and the stream was simply too slow. Running mostly on autopilot, his limbs carried him over and around what David hoped would be a tough route to follow, while he searched his memory and sight for a big enough tree or log hollow, a cave, anything.
A looming, black shape grabbed his attention; without a better plan, David swung his arm around a thin tree and beelined for… a huge tire, laying across one of the forest's tourism nature trails. The fox inwardly grimaced at the sign of heavy industrial equipment, but decided it was ultimately a boon: worrying about future development would have to wait for him to know that his future would even exist. After one last peek over his shoulder, checking if his pursuer, and thus he, could be easily seen, David dove into the middle of the tire and shimmied into its cavity. Opaque, relatively small, and granting him shadow to hide in, a fantastic stroke of luck.
"Gah! Woah, where'd you come from?" At the new voice, David's heart thundered. Luckily, he didn't recognize it, so he at least knew who it wasn't.
Still, the fox looked around for the source, hesitant to speak up, just in case. On the slightly sunnier side of the tire, he caught the shimmer of mottled, brown scales, and as his eyes adjusted to the shade, he saw more and more of the stranger. A long snake coiled over and around herself, only barely encircled by the massive tire, with her head resting about a third of the way around from him. Scales slid against scales as she drew closer, keen curiosity in her bright yellow eyes.
This time, it was intimidation, not fear of discovery, that stayed David's tongue, so the snake flickered hers and tried again. "Not that I mind company, but I was in the middle of a nap…" she said, then turned her head to yawn; Her lower jaw wiggled back and forth before returning to normal at the end. "…hello? Foxy?"
Realizing that she expected him to speak, David finally found his voice. "I… I'm hiding from someone. I don't know for certain what will happen, but I really, really don't want to be caught." A thought struck him, and he consulted his mental map of the forest. "Has this tire been here long? I don't remember it when I passed by a few days ago."
"Oh, it's mine. A portable hide, and one not out of place nearly anywhere!" The snake tapped her head affectionately against the inner rubber. "It took a bit to learn how to roll in it, but well worth it!"
The fox sighed, relieved. "So there aren't plans to destroy this forest. Good."
"Nope, just a wandering snake. Fiona, by the way, amateur story collector."
"Huh?"
"My name. Since I figure we'll be close for a bit," Fiona replied.
"Right, sorry. I'm David… just a fox." Something piqued his curiosity. "What do you mean, story collector?"
Fiona's eyes gleamed. "I'm glad you asked! After all, it's the reason I'm even in this thing! Lay back, let me elucidate." David did so, shimmying back against several lengths of her scaly body. His paws found a convenient gap to tuck into, and then the snake continued:
"Nearly since I hatched, I loved hearing about stuff other people did - incredible sights my siblings saw, improbable battles, tales of creatures I never even thought could exist! I did what I could to remember them and retell them for my younger siblings, or those who simply weren't there to hear at the time."
A comforting pressure crept up David's ankles. "That… if you don't mind me saying, that sounds pretty normal so far."
"It was! But eventually, I realized that different creatures and people have different life stories to tell, and I'd get comparatively nowhere just by staying around where I grew up." Fiona's head drifted from one side of the tire to the other, and David's gaze followed.
"So you decided to travel and found the tire?"
The snake laughed. "Oh, no, this was only a few months ago. I started by just slithering around." As though demonstrating, her entire body shifted and undulated against itself, covering more of David's body; he thought perhaps he ought to be concerned, but he wanted to hear Fiona tell her story. "But I did decide to travel! Forests, villages, a couple streams, so many different people with so many life stories to tell. A recent favorite of mine is a bunny girl whose life story was the time she scammed a human out of two entire caskets of wi- oop, shush!"
With a blur of movement, Fiona's coils covered David completely; he was about to shout and try to free himself when, instead, he heard very familiar footsteps. Hidden so completely by the snake's body, it was only his ears that truly picked up the person he was trying so hard to avoid. Raggedy breathing, the slam of paws on rubber, and a low growl; the fox could only pray that Fiona was the only one visible. After far too much time to be comfortable, the breathing grew quieter, as did angry, heavy footsteps.
Finally, a few lengths of her scaly body parted, letting him see again. In front of him was a smiling snake, yellow eyes bright and mirthful, clearly trying her best not to laugh. Looking at her, he found it tempting to join in - but wouldn't dare having just escaped disaster. Once again, Fiona was the first to speak, in a hissing whisper, "his entire head was bright pink!"
David grinned back and nodded. "Yeah, we're not exactly friends. Now, I wouldn't kill him, but I don't know if he'd extend the same courtesy."
"Clearly. Oh, speaking of which, would you like to know why I said the bunny thing was her life story, even though it was just a day? I've got two reasons."
The fox hummed. "Is one of them philosophical, like it's a representation of their personality in just one story?"
Fiona giggled, bringing a smile to David's muzzle. "Kind of! It's more that they're all unique, at least in how they're told if not what actually happens in there. Like lives! I like your idea, though."
In spite of himself, David felt himself blush at the compliment; he told himself it was just because he was laying down that his face grew so easily hot. "Thanks, Fiona. You said two, though? What's the second?"
"I'm glad you asked!"
The serpentine smile before him vanished, instead transforming into a wide, fleshy maw, glistening with drool. David tried to pull back, but of course, her body was all around him, and there was nothing he could do as pink filled his vision, then black, as she swallowed his muzzle and head in just a few gulps. The fox tried his best to push her off, but not only did her scaly body keep his from moving too much, it even tightened when he struggled! With her throat holding his mouth closed, the closest he could manage to a cry for help was a frantic moan, one muffled by her jaws and the tire. Of course, even without it, the two of them had put so much effort into being unheard that David was certain nobody around would have been able to hear him, anyway.
Around his shoulders, the heat and wetness of Fiona's mouth replaced her cooler, dry scales. When David focused - and he tried not to - he felt her throat expand and contract, allowing her to work her way down his body. His chest and midsection were next to go, leaving his arms pinned only by her gullet, rather than her coils, not that that was any help, as a few futile struggles soon proved. As she approached his waist, part of the fox was still in denial: surely she was far too thin a snake to fit him? Clearly, Fiona would have to give up eventually. But as a discomforting dampness and pressure slipped over his hips and down his thighs, that fantasy grew weaker and weaker.
With her maw at his knees, David found the pressure around his head lessen. The air grew more acrid, but her body wasn't as tight so deep. He tried shouting for help, just in case, right before her mouth closed after his paws, sealing his doom. From there, he could do little more than wait while her body squeezed the rest of his into her stomach. The fox's eyes stung, but no tears came. And then, with her throat clear once more, the snake addressed him once more.
"You're handling this well. Anyway, more practically, I call them life stories because they're given in exchange for life!" The pep in Fiona's voice carried a far more menacing quality from the inside of her stomach, David found. "So, mister "just a fox," unless you want to take care of my lunches for the next couple weeks, I can't wait to hear yours!"
Length: 1800 words
Vore type: Oral vore, unwilling prey, M/F, M/M
Fandom: D&D
Other info: kobold/human, kobold/elf, digestion, fast digestion, smaller pred
Summary: How does a little kobold eat adventurers over twice his size? Very quickly, and they don't last long. Apparently eating is a free action.
Saverin wiped the gnoll blood off of his sword, but kept it out - until he and the others knew they'd found a safe room, it was dangerous to let his guard down so completely. Somewhat luckily, one of the gnolls had gotten blasted through the next door by one of Viera's spells. Saverin stashed his rag and raised his shield as he stepped through the stone-lined doorway.
The group passed through the hallway relatively uneventfully. Garren froze a giant rat that even Elise hadn't seen with their breath; Severin was inclined to think it would've left them alone, but he knew better than to argue with their scaly cleric over their hatred of rodents. And then there was another door, this one intact. Elise slipped past the rest of the group to fiddle with the lock, and with a quick click, she soon pushed it open before retreating behind Saverin's guard.
The room was mostly empty, save for a table with a half-finished game of Solitaire, a few scattered chairs, a visibly empty chest, and a single kobold leaning against a door and spinning a fork in his hands. The kobold in question was better-equipped than Saverin expected of his species, with half a metal helmet over the upper half of his face, a few spiked rings affixed to his tail, and a pair of leather shoes that somehow fit his lizardy feet. Saverin had taken only a couple steps in when the kobold looked up and tossed the fork onto the table. "Oh, you guys made good time. You can't go through, by the way. Dragon says no."
Garren started to say, "does she know that we only seek-" but was swiftly cut off by their other magic-user.
"Well, your dragon's about to learn otherwise! Now stand aside, or I'll be opening that door with your corpse!" The red gem on Viera's staff glowed, menacing.
"She's said she has no patience for more slayers, and granted me speed to fulfill her will," the kobold countered, with no worry in his voice, "so… leave. Or stay here forever, but you aren't going in."
A magical incantation in an equally magical language spilled forth from Viera's lips, and a ball of fire shot from her staff, scorching a decent area around him. A quick glance to the side, and Saverin saw Garren murmur a quick prayer; they couldn't stop their fellows from killing creatures who weren't even defending themselves, but they could at least seek forgiveness on their behalf. Saverin wasn't a religious man, himself, but he understood their plight-
Just then, a strange, muffled shout pulled his and Garren's focus from the scorched and wrecked door. The kobold was just past where Viera had casted from, but their mage was nowhere to be seen - well, that wasn't entirely true; the diminutive lizard rested on a massive gut, scales stretched beyond reasonable to accommodate something over twice his size, even curled up tight. His tail swished slowly, and with arms crossed, the kobold looked out of his helmet at the remaining trio. "Okay. Let's try this again. You can't go in, so leave. Once you do, and this troublemaker apologizes, I'll let-"
Elise struck from the shadows, seeming more like a trick of the light than an elf. "Now, when it can't move!" she shouted, driving her daggers towards the kobold's bloated gut, an easy target.
At least, it would have been, had the kobold not landed a solid kick on her, sending her flying into a wall with a crash that surprised Saverin with its lack of sound. The swordsman tore his eyes away from the horrid scene to the door, or rather where the door used to be. Slowly, he started to creep towards it, though morbid curiosity kept him staring at what the kobold was doing.
At the moment, the kobold was hissing, annoyed. "Look, if you really want to try this, I'd better just…" He rolled back, landing on his feet, and stretched. An awful gurgling and growling echoed in the small, stone room, immediately joined by Viera's screaming. Loud cracking and snapping ensued as, before their very eyes, the lumpy bulk of the kobold's stretched stomach grew rapidly both less lumpy and less bulky, shrinking into a noticeable but much more normal-looking gut. He thumped his chest with his fist a couple times, then opened his scaly jaws to let out a truly massive belch, ridding himself of even that amount of bloat. Saverin figured that, if he'd been next to that monster, his ears would be ringing, and that may be the least of his problems. A wisp of red, magical flame issued from the predator's maw, the only sign that Viera had even been in the room.
"Now then, you wanted to fight?" the lizard challenged, glancing around the room. Elise had once again melted back into the shadows, and it seemed that, for all his speed, the kobold's eyes were normal. Saverin shuffled a little closer to the door, over halfway there…
A pair of knives flew at the kobold from behind; it was only then that Saverin managed to spot the shadowy elf. But only for a moment; the swordsman only barely registered the clatter of metal on stone after a blur of scales seemed to instantly transform the sinewy, stealthy assassin into a much more compact, scaly mass hanging off of the kobold's midsection. This time, he leaned one hand against the wall and put his other hand on his hip, more addressing Elise than the rest of- than Saverin and Garren.
"Really, this could have not happened if you just left, or even didn't atta- AGH, OW!" He stumbled, supporting himself on his oversized gut, and gritted his sharp teeth, muttering curses in Draconic that surely made Garren blush through their scales. "Grraah, you wanna fight like a rat, I'll treat you like one!"
Blanching, Saverin turned and ran; it didn't stop him from hearing Elise's cry cut off, or the sickening crunch of bones shattered even before melting, but he at least didn't have to see it, and maybe he could be around the corner and out of the kobold's-
The next thing Saverin saw was a set of small, but very hungry-looking draconic jaws opened unreasonably wide right in front of his face. He grunted, more from discomfort than pain, as his arms and legs were forced to immediately curl up against him; it even took a couple seconds to realize that he couldn't see anything, and that he'd gone from a cool, slightly damp cave system to a hot, humid, and wet…
Kobold stomach.
Saverin tried to reach for his sword, but it had been either knocked away or was trapped against him where he couldn't reach. Fear gripped him in the deadly, acrid chamber as he realized his hands had already started to tingle, and he desperately hoped it was just a lack of circulation, rather than the kobold doing… well, he didn't want to think about it. To make matters worse, the deadly lizard let out a short laugh over his doom. "Ha! Using your own allies as bait to sneak by? Devious, but my mistress's boons are stronger. Will you finally agree to just leave? I'm running out of lessons to give, not that I mind."
"We aren't here to kill her!" Garren's voice was muffled just as Viera's and Elise's voices had been, but this time Saverin was on the other side of things. "She has twenty-three overdue library books and we're asking for them back! Ideally with the fine, but we'll cross that bridge when we get there."
The kobold is worryingly quiet for a few seconds; Saverin couldn't decide if he wanted this ordeal to hurry up or never reach its inevitable conclusion. Eventually, though, he spoke up, "why didn't the other three say anything?"
"After the giant rats, the slimes, and the gnolls, even I didn't expect you to actually speak."
"Oh. That's… I'm not sorry - those two tried to kill me - but I wish it hadn't happened."
Saverin struggled around, pressing out from within his fleshy prison. "Hey! You can let me out now!"
More silence, save for the disquieting gurgle of his captor's guts shifting around. "Uhh… surely this can be done with just one person? And I'll just… keep him until you get back, just in case you secretly plan to try to kill my mistress! It'll be twice as hard with only one person!"
Even through the kobold's belly and scales, Saverin heard Garren's sigh. "KOBOLD," they said, with a severity to their voice. The rest of their words was in Draconic, so the trapped swordsman could only hope the cleric knew what they were doing.
"Y- of course, O Dragon," the kobold said, in a much shakier voice than before. And then, he moved.
Saverin had to squint his eyes against the instant re-existince of light. He coughed and sputtered, getting the stale and sharp air out from his lungs and the kobold drool and stomach juices from his mouth. Shakily, he stood and shambled over to his dropped sword, immediately sheathing it just in case the kobold thought it a good excuse. And speaking of the kobold, the swordsman turned to see him kneeling on the floor before Garren. Saverin did his best to shake off his wet clothes and armor, then turned to the cleric, himself. "Uh… thanks, Garren. I'm pretty sure you just saved my life."
Garren awkwardly rubbed their neck. "Don't mention it, please. I panicked. I should've talked him out of it, rather than…" they trailed off, then gestured to the deferent kobold. "Anyway, are you well enough to continue? We can rest here, if you need time."
Saverin shook his head. "I can go. The sooner I get a proper bath and a proper bed, the better." Rolling his shoulders, he continued on through the doorway, and Garren followed soon after.
"When you return, may I eat him again?" the kobold called out to them, "I'll let him go, I swear!"
Saverin heard Garren's footsteps stop, and turned to see them thinking for longer than he'd like, settling on "only by his permission, and ending by the earlier of his or my request."
"Thank you, O Dragon! Good luck on your quest!"
As they walked down the final stretch to the dragon's chambers, Saverin shot the cleric a glare, to which they meekly shrugged. "I… don't like telling them outright no. So you get to. Sorry." A sudden weight came to their scaly features, and they let out a deep sigh. "When next we rest, I will perform rites in memoriam of Elise and Viera."
Saverin grumbled. "This would never have happened if the damned dragon - no offense - just read her stupid mail."
A little illness can take me out for two days, but I persevere!
Length: 1800 words
Vore type: Absorption, M/?, willing prey, prey POV
Fandom: None
Other info: slime griffon/human, endosoma, digestion mention
Summary: Your griffon friend has a great idea on what to wear: him!
Today was not going well for you. Not only did you hit every single red going from and to your apartment, your costume for tonight's party apparently decided to go AWOL. You'd just finished checking even the kitchen when a familiar sloshing noise hits your ears.
"Hey, dude, something wrong?" Galleon pokes his head around the corner, the slime griffon's "ears" flicked forward with curiosity. "Figure it's either that or you're making the most intense cake of your life."
You let out a frustrated sigh and brace your arms against the counter. "Y'know that Halloween party tonight? My stupid fucking costume's gone. I don't wanna go in just a normal getup, not for Halloween."
Galleon flows around into the kitchen and leans against the fridge. "Flowing" being the operative word; it had been a little difficult to get used to when you told him he didn't need to act like his non-slime counterparts, but these days it felt more out-of-place seeing him bounce with each step as though he had bones. "Bummer. Have you checked-"
"Yes!" It'ss faster and angrier than you'd intended, but… you sigh. "Ugh, yes. Sorry, it's just that I've checked literally everywhere it could be. I mean, I'm looking in the KITCHEN, for crying out loud!"
He doesn't seem all that fazed by your outburst, instead calmly raising a claw. "You wanna wear me?"
"What?"
The griffon shoots you a beaky grin and offers a slimy hand as he glides towards you. "If you don't mind the lack of privacy for the night, we'll be a double costume: predatory slime and unfortunate victim!"
You roll your eyes. "If I didn't know you so well, that would be unnerving. Anyway, I want to go to the party myself, not be trapped as you puppet me around."
Before you know it, his arm is around your shoulders, with his wing right behind it. For all his talk of how accomplished a hunter he is, subtlety sure isn't one of his strong points. "I figured, which is why you'd have control for most of the night. It's a lot of fun being an irresistible force on every inch of you, buuuuut I could just cling to you."
With a snicker, you pat his claw (relieved to pull it away dry this time) - but don't push it away. "Aren't you clingy enough already?"
"No such thing. So, yes or no?"
He's definitely pulling something. Not that Galleon's ever been very opaque about his love of being full of someone other than himself, but this is pretty forward, even for him - and especially around others. He initially chalked it up to having a better predatory advantage, but it's far more likely he's just shy when he's not around his close friends or imminent victims.
"If you wanted a friend to accompany you at the party, you can just say so. But alright, I'll wear you. What do I need to do?"
"Yes!" He quickly hugs you from behind, but you remain outside his body this time. "I mean, that's not necessary, but I'm glad to help with your costume issue. Um, go and get into some clothes you don't mind me ruining."
"…alright. Why, though? You've eaten me with clothes on before." He follows you as you push open the door to your room. "Probably more often on than off, even, and it's never been an issue."
"Tattered, acid-eaten clothes make a better prey-victim costume, no? …you can say "no" if you want," he adds after a moment.
It doesn't take long to find a shirt and pants that have already seen better days. To be perfectly honest, at this point, "acid-eaten" could well be a compliment. You grab them and hold them out to the slime griffon, who simply cocks his head at them. Confused, yourself, you gently push them against his chest until they and your hand sink into his admittedly comfortable, warm body. He still just stares down at them, floating unharmed in his eagle-colored slime.
Once he realizes you expect him to do something about them, he smiles and pats your shoulder. "I'm about to fuck these clothes up. There's a decent chance being in my slime will be key to keeping them together. So, unless you want to find out what putting on a shirt and pants while inside me is like…" His smile falters, and he glances away. "To be honest, I don't think I want to try that, actually."
You roll your eyes, but can't help but smile at the mental image of his body stretching to keep you contained while you dress. The outfit comes out as dry as you put it in, and it's not long to put it on. You take a breath - one of the last few breaths of air you'll get for most of the night - longer if you end up falling asleep in him again.
Galleon offers his hand, you take it, and he takes yours - in his case, drawing your fingers into his slimy talons, and then the rest. He drags you closer with superhuman strength, and with a turn of his wrist, the warm sense of wetness spreads quickly up your forearm. Like a dancer, the playful predator spins you into his embrace, and your back immediately sticks in his front. His beak presses against the top and back of your head as he pretends, just for a second, that that's how he eats. Another pull, this time along every inch of you stuck inside him, and your vision gains a light tint, with a couple patches colored more like his eyes. Gently, more of a suggestion, Galleon turns his head and yours with it, to look at yourselves in the mirror; the talons on his other hand interlace with your fingers, the last bit still free. With a careful squeeze, they join the rest of you, entirely submerged in griffon.
In the mirror, you float a few inches off the ground, suspended entirely in Galleon's body. You hear his hum all around you; he drops his and your arms to his sides, then forces yours further, against your consumed body. His slime swirls, a changing current against your body, until your feet nearly touch the floor and your head rests just under where his collarbone would be. Experimentally, you try to move your arms, and successfully do so, as long as you wouldn't stretch his body out too much - unfortunately, after just a few seconds, the slime making up his torso grips your wrists tightly.
"I'm going to run myself along your skin, okay? So I avoid burning you with your clothes." His voice doesn't originate from his beak above you, but rather from everywhere. You nod, and see his face in the mirror start to concentrate.
It starts at your hands, feet, and neck, a gentle pressure around each of them that slowly spreads inwards. Up your legs, along your arms, down against your collar. And then, he's under your clothes - not that he hadn't been, considering how these clothes certainly aren't waterproof, but this time you can feel his intent to be there, that he's focusing on sliding against you. Your pulse quickens, and you can just feel a rising blush as the griffon climbs your thighs and explores your crotch to lift away every wrinkle of fabric, while at the same time running down and around your back, over every inch of concealed skin. He goes no further than he has to, but it's more than enough to make you feel very naked, despite being able to see yourself clothed in front of you. And then, he starts.
You've never caught Galleon digesting anyone - the closest you'd come was a curious stare at a turkey sandwich fizzling into slime, or when, on a dare, he ate a chicken leg through his lion leg (bone and all). Not that you'd tried very hard, of course, and the sight in front of you reminds you why. A hissing sound fills your ears as, in the mirror, holes appear and grow on the sleeves, legs, and belly of your shirt and pants, and no matter how hard you try to avoid it, it fills you with the thought of those same burns and holes appearing on a person's body, or even your own. It doesn't take long at all, and Galleon soon stops the fizzing entirely, turning the well-worn clothes into veritable tatters - though thankfully leaving your modesty intact, at least visibly so.
With his work done, Galleon raises his arms over his head and arches his back as though stretching, and his hold on your body doesn't pull away so much as dissipates, a reminder that he's still there, should he choose to pay attention there. "Doesn't look half-bad!" he congratulates himself, "a much more unique costume than a mad scientist, if I do say so myself!"
…wait.
You throw a punch at his chest from within - it won't hurt him, but it does earn his attention. "Yeah?"
"Treacherous little catbird, I never told you what I was dressing up as."
He freezes, the only movement being a slow current against your body. "…lucky guess?" Damn, even his beak stayed still.
Sighing always felt weird inside him, but times like this called for one. "Just ask, next time. And as long as it's safe…"
"Yeah, it's in the fridge."
"It's-!" The incredible duality of this slime, to be so clever and so stupid at once. "Alright, I got it more to hand out candy than for a party. Speaking of, what time is it?"
"About quarter to seven."
And that means time to go. You instinctively start walking towards the bedroom door as though Galleon wasn't surrounding you, but luckily, he moves with you, letting you lead. "Which of us is driving?"
"Both, I think." A slimy arm reaches out in front of you to pull open the front door. After stepping through, you hear a click, but see his keys in his other hand, and wisely decide to shelve that thought for later. "But you can. Lemme just get your arms back into mine once we sit down."
A few minutes later, the two of you cruise down the road, his head resting against the side of yours to let you see better. Galleon breaks the silence with a curious, "so… think we'll have the best costume there?"
You laugh. "If we aren't, I can't wait to see who does!"
Length: 1800 words
Vore type: M/? oral vore, unwilling prey, digestion
Fandom: None
Other info: dragon/human, multiple prey, implied vore
Summary: A well-fed dragon returns to his captive princess for some nice belly rubs. She does her best to think about anything other than what (or rather, who) is on the other side of those scales.
Princess Japhei flipped a page in her book, trying to shut out the sounds of a fight just down the hall from where her bed lay. Shouts of effort, a ferocious roar, the clash of claws against steel… she shook her head and groaned in frustration, staring harder at the story of a young man mysteriously transported to a realm of beasts and in the body of one. At one word, she squinted, tried to sound out what it might be, and ultimately just beckoned to the small lizard at the other end of the bed.
The scaly creature set down the tiara he had been polishing and crawled over to her. Japhei held the book open and pointed at the troublesome word. His slit-pupil eyes flicked over the page before landing where she pointed; soon after, he nodded. "That one's "deception,"" he said, "it means-"
Japhei cut him off with, pushing his head back with a hand. "I know what it means, Zechir. I just know it from speaking," she reminded him, "besides, when one day I am to take my father's place, I certainly can't hold a court without knowing deception inside and out."
Before Zechir could reply, heavy footsteps drew both of their attentions to the chamber entrance. Red scales gleamed and glittered in the magical torchlight, the pride of Arzenn the Ruthless. "You really ought to exchange that "when" for an "if,"" he rumbled. Though he bore scars from older fights, Japhei noticed he had no new ones, and despite his visibly full belly, there was no blood around his muzzle. The nausea she used to feel on realizing the implications of such details was barely present, and she wasn't sure how to feel about that. Still, she could at least be disappointed by the latest band of so-called rescuers; while she no longer awaited Arzenn's death, that they did not scratch his hide, let alone give him cause to kill them with claws and fangs indicated… substandard skills.
While Zechir had quickly prostrated himself before his master, Japhei remained reclined on the bed - but she did shut her book. "There are yet two weeks out," the princess pointed out.
Arzenn huffed, small wisps of smoke trailing from his nostrils. "And six weeks in, for a sum which small villages pay in three, and for but a baker's daughter. If your father's actions do not offend you, I shall be offended on your behalf." He strode closer to the bed, but laid on his side; as he showed off his belly, Japhei could see slight but sudden movement in his scales - he had not even simply battered the fighters unconscious, but overwhelmed them while they still remained in the waking world. "Both of you, attend me. Zechir, first set out a rug and cushion for the princess to sit upon."
The kobold yipped and quickly set about his task, but Japhei remained where she was. "And why, pray tell, should I?" she asked with a smile. "After all, you will not burn or even scratch me so long as your promise to return me in "fine condition" stands."
The dragon gave a deep sigh and rolled his eyes. "Must we go through this each time?"
"When they still draw breath? Absolutely. It is barbaric, and I demand some small measure of your misery for my own."
At this, he grinned. "Ah, but once unmoving, you've no quarrel?" By his side, Zechir leaned against his master's belly scales, pressing his hands into him.
The princess sat up and crossed her arms. "At least then, I may think of it as cattle sacrificed from such an aforementioned village. Not men of my own kingdom." She raised her book in one hand, waving it in a vaguely threatening manner. "Now out with it, or I shall simply return to my studies."
"You're better at negotiations than your father," Arzenn said. He spared a quick word of praise to an immediately-beaming Zechir, then addressed Japhei once again, "once these two weeks are up, you are mine to keep. You will no longer be a princess, and will instead be either food or a kobold - in title if not in body. Should you wish to meet the latter fate, such physical affection and digestive aid both ingratiates me to you to avoid an early death, and provides important practice for more frequent kobold duties." His stomach puncuated this with a loud gurgle, and a spirited Zechir threw himself against the dragon's gut; Japhei could not hear him but suspected he was purring.
With a sigh, the princess set her book down and stepped carefully along the deployed rug to kneel on the pillow. She took a deep breath, steeled her nerves, and pressed her own hands to his belly-scales. As usual, the dragon was hot to the touch - not painful, but far more than herself or any of her maidservants - and surprisingly soft, at least compared to the thick, tough scale armor protecting most of his body. She pushed one hand in, then the other, doing her best to simply focus on the movement, rather than-
Just then, she ran into some resistance, or rather, some resistance threw itself against her hands. It was faint, subtle, but for even that much to reach her, whatever poor soul was trapped in there must still have a fair bit of strength and energy remaining. Japhei had to keep her mind off of what was on the other side of those scales. "I can't help but notice you come from battle utterly untouched," she ventured, "this was not the case earlier in my captivity. Perhaps keeping me alive and a target has bettered your fighting skills?"
Arzenn scoffed at this, thumped the tip of his tail against the stony floor, and scowled at the far wall. "Bah," he grumbled, "the first one - Sir Avi or whatever - I had to kill to save myself from injury. The past few fights I ate or let flee depending merely on hunger or boredom."
The princess grimaced, even as she settled into a rhythm of kneading one hand, then the other, up and down. "And this cannot be the result of, as I put forth, a rapid increase in skills?"
"If I could treat such a fighter as Avi to such an effortless defeat as the trio currently in there-" as Arzenn spoke, Japhei withdrew with a shudder, "- well, I reckon I could walk through the entire kingdom, eating who I please, without fear of so much as a bloodied wing. No, little Japhei, anyone skilled at fighting is either otherwise occupied or has already fallen at my claws."
The red dragon's stomach growled again; Japhei did her best to pretend that all the movement she saw was its own, and once again she started to rub at his underside. It felt softer now, with less firm spots and barely any movement that the princess couldn't tell herself was just his body. "You surely cannot believe that," she said, "or you could simply fly back in and take my ransom ten times over."
Arzenn went quiet, forepaw to his chin, and stared off into the distance. "You will make a fine kobold," the dragon eventually settled on, "but the point of this is not in the having, but the getting." He smiled at her, displaying his fangs. "You saw my assault on your tower; do you not think it would have been easier for me to break into the royal vault? You are far more fragile than a pile of gold and gems- Zechir, control yourself."
Reflexively, Japhei turned to look at the kobold. Judging by how he'd wrapped his tail around his hips and now had his feet much further from Arzenn than when he was hugging the dragon's gut, she was quite glad she had not turned faster. Cheeks burning with an unwanted mental image, the captive princess returned to her task; luckily, by this point, naught of his… meal remained, so it was as though she was simply massaging him.
After some silence, she turned back to meet the dragon's eyes with an angry glare. Just as she started to say something, he turned his head and muffled a burp behind his paw. There was a metallic clang, and a steel helmet clattered out from behind his paw before rolling to a stop against the wall. "Ah, excuse me," he said, "I believe that means your job is done. You are free to remain, but I will not demand it."
Once she was able to tear her eyes away from the acid-worn and bloody helmet, Princess Japhei leapt to her feet, shielded her eyes from it with her hand, and climbed back onto the bed, quickly covering her head with a nice, soft, and, most importantly, opaque pillow. "I will NEVER get used to… to that!" she shouted.
There was a scraping of metal on stone, then an audible gulp from the direction of the dragon. She knew the grotesque sight was gone, but also very much did not want to think about it. "A shame, that," Arzenn remarked, "I'd hope you could learn, but perhaps I will have to assign you differently. Or assign you to my stomach more directly. For now, though… Zechir, remain guarding and aiding her."
Heavy footsteps once again reached her ears, this time diminishing. Then, smaller ones approached. The bed sank as the kobold climbed on and laid next to her, himself pillowless. "Hey," his voice came, "since it's us two again, do you wanna-"
"Not on your life, dirty lizard." Her words came out sharper than she'd intended, what with the visceral reminder of her citizens' deaths she'd just seen and participated in.
However, Zechir just laughed. "Don't flatter yourself; I'm not human, remember, and you don't have horns, scales, or even a tail." There was a bit more pressure on her head as the kobold leaned against the pillow. "I still want to hear what's going on in that story… and besides, it'll give you something better to think about."
Japhei sighed and pushed herself up, throwing the lizard off, then grabbed the book, pointedly making sure not to look at where the helmet had been. "I hope that ransom comes soon," she muttered, flipping through the pages to find her spot.
"I don't!" called Zechir from the spot on the floor he'd fallen to. "Because if it doesn't, either Arzenn will have another kobold he so definitely deserves, or I'll get to rub his belly again once he's gulped you down!"
Japhei glared at him, but he kept smiling, so she instead looked at the book. She pointed at the unfamiliar word once more. "That's "deception," right? Then I should be here…"
Length: 1700 words
Vore type: Oral vore, M/M, willing prey, safe vore
Fandom: None (Kahudra)
Other info: feet first, naga/anthro
Summary: Vore streamer Sel'riss meets a fan at a convention. You'll never guess what they get up to.
Sel'riss slithered slowly through the convention hall. It took a fair amount of practice to keep his scaly, blue tail from taking up too much walking room, and if it weren't for fascinating analysis panels like the one he'd just come from, he'd probably never attend one. Well, barring free admission, but he wasn't the kind of snake who'd be able to swing that.
Anyway, he had a good hour and a half until the "legally distinct from Who's Line" panel. He could check out local restaurants, peruse the dealer's den, or-
"Hey!" A loud voice jolted him out of his thoughts. The naga tensed, hoping whoever his tail just tripped would accept an apology. However, when he turned around, the fox approaching him had a smile on his face. As well as a pair of Bro Strider glasses.
"Er… hello?" He wasn't quite sure how to respond to him. Did he drop something, or…?
The fox came to a stop just before him."You're Sel'riss, right? I'm a big fan," he said, bushy tail swishing behind him.
Sel'riss let out a breath. "Oh! Phew, I thought I'd hit someone with my tail. Nice to meet you, uh…"
"Lansat." The name clicked in his mind. "I dunno if you'd remember, but-"
"The guy with the-" Sel'riss cut himself off to check around him for congoers too young to overhear this sort of thing. Playing it safe, he continued vaguely, "the sleeping bag thing?"
Lansat's ears flicked back and he flushed red. "Y-yeah. Let's go with that. You're not too weirded out by it?"
Sel'riss shrugged. "I've heard worse. Plus, it is a little flattering."
Silence reigned for several seconds, snake and fox both trying to find a way to continue. A passing Vriska complimented Lansat on his getup. Finally, Sel'riss took initiative. "So… I have some time to kill."
Lansat's blush seemed to burn right through his fur. "Are you suggesting what I think you are?"
"Not out in public, I'm not. Care to join me away from prying ears?"
"Y-yes! Damn, that's smooth…"
Sel'riss felt himself slip into a more familiar rhythm as he led his fan towards the hotel elevators. "Practice. I mean, you've watched me for a while. Especially with my niche, I've got to have some way to meet new guests, at least enough to keep up appearances."
The elevator was a little small even for just himself, but he managed to pile enough of his body against the walls to give Lansat a place to stand. The naga quietly thanked the gods for generous weight limits, and tapped the floor. Certainly easier than taking the stairs, especially with how long of a trip it would be.
Once the doors closed and the elevator began to move, Lansat shifted on his feet. "So, er… more plainly, are you really going to eat me?"
"I figured you'd be interested in it. If not, I'll probably just hang out in my room by myself."
This, as he'd suspected, threw the fox for a loop. "If I'm- I mean, yes, of course I am, it's literally a dream come true, but, well, you're not exactly known for giving your prey a choice."
Card go in slot, lock go beep, door go open. Halfway through slithering into his room, Sel'riss glanced back at Lansat. "Wait, do you- you don't think I actually, regularly kill people on stream, do you? That's like six kinds of super illegal."
This time, Lansat did actually trip on his tail; quick reflexes caught him on another length of scaly body. On a whim, Sel'riss finished a loose loop around him, rewarded with yet more furiously blushing fox. "Of course not! I know you let them out afterwards, but they seem pretty frightened to be there in the first place."
Sel'riss slithered on, letting the length of his tail slide around his guest before slipping free to join the rest of his coiled body. "Oh, they are. All in good fun, mind you." He rummaged through a bag before pulling out a vial of blue liquid. "But before and after the cameras are on, they are free to leave at any time, and I won't stop them." He held out the vial to the fox. "Anti-digestive potion? Always a good idea to take mysterious drinks from strangers who want to eat you."
Lansat grabbed the vial and held it up to get a good look. "This is gatorade."
"It looks like gatorade!" Sel'riss cheerfully corrected, "and you might've seen me fool a couple of my guests by telling them it actually is, if they really couldn't pull off the "unwilling" act. Uh, don't worry about that - I'm not gonna record this, just having fun in some spare time."
"This is surreal… With respect, you're both more and less unhinged in person than I expected." Lansat popped the cork out and downed the drink. He made a face at the taste. "Ugh. And still I expected a sports drink flavor. So what now?"
"Take off anything you don't want a bit acid-eaten, and I'll handle things from there," the naga instructed. Once Lansat had stripped down to his underwear and placed his cosplay in a neat pile, Sel'riss wrapped his tail around him and lifted him up, paws by his face. "This way, you get to watch yourself vanish… and I get to see how you react to it!"
A single gulp saw Lansat swallowed up to his knees. Although his upper half remained stock-still, Sel'riss felt the fox's rapid heartbeat against his tail and his toes stretch and wiggle against soft, deceptively-yielding throat flesh. He broke that deception with a single gulp, and his gullet firmly pulled more of the fox's legs in. As more of his fur slid across Sel'riss's forked tongue, the snake picked up more of a spicy-sweet flavor. If his mouth wasn't full of tasty fan, he was tempted to ask what fur conditioner he used.
The snake's eyes flicked to Lansat's underpants, visibly tented out by a prominent erection; he tried to soothe his prey's embarrassment with a calm smile and another long, steady swallow. If nothing else, he hoped his mouth's warm, wet embrace would occupy Lansat's mind enough to take it off of more embarrassing matters. A telltale salty flavor added to the wonderful mix of the fox's fur, and Lansat's eyes glazed over slightly, though he still focused on his predator. Sel'riss reveled in shattering that focus with one more gulp: prey often found his throat much more pleasant to grind against than his mouth, and this fan was no exception; Sel'riss simply relaxed his gullet and let gravity and the fox's unfocused rutting drag his belly in, then his chest, until all Lansat could see besides his arms was framed by serpentine jaws.
Sel'riss ran his own hands along his torso; although preoccupied, the fox's humping was spirited and made quite the active bulges in his stretchy, blue hide. The naga curled his forked tongue against the top of Lansat's head, then finally, with two gulps, sent his head and arms into the welcoming, hungry embrace of his throat and beyond. He twisted around to watch the shifting, squirming lump lessen inside his thicker lower half, then laid his upper body atop his stomach to wait for its newest temporary occupant.
Inside, his prey thrashed about, trying to rub against his insides with his arms trapped over his head. He watched as the signature spasms of a powerful orgasm gave way to a tired stillness, just before his body pulled Lansat into his stomach to rest under his upper body. Almost immediately, his gut growled and began to knead at its visitor, doing its best to work powerful yet utterly useless acids into the fox's body.
Sel'riss mentally counted to twenty. He turned out to be a few seconds early, and was about to speak up just when Lansat's body jerked to attention. The fox managed to get his arms against himself more comfortably, and pushed out against his confines - which, of course, held with no complaint.
"Oh my god, did you just-" his voice came, muffled through scales, fat, and muscle.
"I sure did."
"And I- I-"
"Not the first fan, unlikely to be the last. It'll digest normally."
"Oh, fuck, I'm going to-"
"Nnnope, not unless I wanna try to hide you for a day, and probably miss all those panels I wanted to go see." Sel'riss quickly shut that line of thought down. "And on top of that and the sudden one-day fast, there's legal issues. You're fine, Lansat."
"I… I guess I am. At- at least, it doesn't hurt to believe it." A moment of quiet, then the sensation of someone rubbing his belly from the inside. "Sorry about freaking out, Sel'riss. I should've trusted you."
Sel'riss shrugged, well aware that Lansat couldn't appreciate the gesture. "Can't blame you, I lie all the time to keep up the "cruel fatal pred" thing. I mean, it's no accident the potion looks exactly like blue gatorade. Anyway, my condolences in advance for your underwear; I think my stomach's more active than I expected."
"It- wait a sec." Sel'riss closed his eyes, enjoying Lansat fumbling around inside him. "Ah, shit. I knew something had to go wrong; meeting you IRL was way too cool to happen without a hitch."
Sel'ris laughed and promised to try to help after letting him out in an hour. In the back of his mind, he revisited his earlier thoughts: maybe cons weren't so bad, if he can find good company.
