#Nervous pred

[dvorrak]

I like it when a pred can’t lie to save their life

[yummynomms]

I LOVE THIS TROPE aaaaaaaaa-

old old art that I was waiting to publish for when I had a story to go along with it but... it's been so long and I don't think the story is coming along any time soon soo...~

[nomlebean]

Abel noms

[softsnugglystomach]

Finished the second part of my PJO vore fic

It’s Hestia-centric and focuses on how her childhood affected her, with a main focus on how (in this AU) she began to associate being eaten with being protected, and how that carries over into her relationship with her family, especially since she’s the oldest child and feels responsible for her family.

[perit0neum]

prey who is trying really hard to get their pred buddy to associate them with food

uses food scented colognes, brings them food whenever they hang out, looks up "tips for prey" on like wikihow etc.

none of it seems to be working though

because the pred has wanted to eat them from the start and he is trying really hard not to give into those urges

"i just got this new cologne [vanilla], what do you think?"

[gripping his thighs] "it's...n-nice...real nice

minors dni

[nomstellations]

enough of the domineering, suave, confident preds. show me the nervous, flustered, inexperienced preds! give me a pred that's new to the whole vore thing and isn't sure of themselves! give me preds who aren't the ones in charge for a change!

[sillylilprey]

a pred and prey that both want to engage in vore, but they are both too shy to say it to the other

it basically becomes a game of patience, except neither of them know the other is playing.

But eventually, someone will still ask, and find out that they both wanted it the whole time, so yippee

[bighungrywolf]

Hank stopped his car slowly, following the directions a civil guard was giving him to stop at a traffic checkpoint. When he stopped, he rolled down his window to answer the officer.

"Give me your license and registration papers, please," the guard said without even pausing to look at Hank, following the routine he was so tired of repeating.

"Oh, I don't think that will be necessary, officer," Hank replied provocatively. When the guard looked up to retort that this was a contempt of authority, he found Hank flexing his huge bicep while looking suggestively at the guard.

-This… I'm… I'm… I'm sorry, sir, but… whoever you are, I have to follow protocol, that's the rules, yo… you're not going to get away with looking so… s… sexy," said the guard, trying to hide how nervous he was after being inches away from a man who was just… s… sexy," said the guard, trying to hide how nervous he was after being inches away from a man who was looking close to perfection.

"Uhm? Oh, I think I can do whatever I want, don't you? Look at my biceps again, don't you feel your authority over me waning little by little as you feel more and more dominated? Accept that right now I'm the one in control, and I could do whatever I want with you. For example, I feel like waving to the driver of the other car that's stopped, would you bring him here for me?"

"I… I don't…" the guard began to falter, watching as little by little all his authority completely vanished and he found himself increasingly dominated by Hank.

-"Ssssssssh, I didn't ask you to talk, puppy, I just said bring me the other driver here, do you think you'll be able to do it?" The guard nodded, running off to do his bidding. A minute later, he had brought the other driver to Hank's car, who looked rather confused, not understanding what kind of check they were going to do to him to have to go to the other stopped car at the checkpoint. Just as he was standing at Hank's window, Hank looked him up and down and said:

"Ooooh, I love that you have been so obedient, little guy, and now if you will allow me, I am going to enjoy the delicacy you just brought me" just as he finished saying this Hank grabbed the other man by the neck and thanks to his enormous strength, dragged him into his jaws. Like a starving animal that hadn't eaten for weeks, Hank devoured the man with astonishing speed, and within minutes there was nothing left of the man, only nutrients that would be redistributed throughout Hank's body making him even more muscular and dominant.

"Hmmmm, nothing like a good snack for lunch, thanks for the favour, puppy. If you're still here in the afternoon, I'll stop by to say hi and maybe you can offer me another snack in return, huh, how about that? For the moment I'm going to go ahead. Take one last look at these biceps you've helped to feed. Oh, and I'd recommend you get rid of that car, otherwise you're going to look pretty suspicious, and I don't want my favourite snack supplier to get caught" said Hank, as he started to step on the gas, leaving behind the guard who kept looking at Hank in bewilderment as he drove off, still not quite knowing what had just happened, as if he had been under heavy hypnosis. That's the thing about meeting an alpha pred, his dominance controls you completely.

[itsmoving]

(i got mad distracted writing this one lmao)

Imagine, if you'll humour me, a newbie pred. They're only just starting to explore this new diet, and it's great! but they've never exactly been a fast runner and actually catching prey can be difficult.

To compromise, they instead plan to stalk and kidnap a prey, and it goes a lot smoother than roughing it! but now they have a different problem on their hands. They have the prey back in the privacy of their home, but they just can't bring themselves to do it- they're a living person too!

The prey is strapped to a dining room chair in the cold basement of the pred's house. They glare at the pred as they pace back and forth, weighing up the guilt they'd feel against the gnawing, prickling pins-and-needles of the hunger that would bite back and kill them if they didn't sate it soon.

When the pred checks back on the prey, they're hunched over in their seat, only stuck upright by their binds as faint, delicate snoring comes from them. It is rather late, the pred considers, deciding that they'd sleep on the decision and leave the prey to their own sleep for now.

In the morning, they bring the prey a glass of water, not wanting them to croak before they're in their stomach. As the pred helps the prey by holding the glass for them, the prey takes notice of the pred's shirt, and finally speaks up after drinking half of the glass.

"You like that band?" they squeak out, voice hoarse with strain. The pred is confused for a moment before following their gaze down to the shirt they were wearing- a band graphic tee they had bought a few years prior that was always too big for them.

The pred hesitates for a moment before responding. "I used to. I know some songs, but I usually just sleep in this."

A breathy laugh rests hollow and cold on the pred's skin as the prey looks back up at them. "I never expected a predator to like prey music." There's bite behind the comment, but a curious and genuine smile plastered on their face that the pred can't help but return.

"Hey, good music's good music." Both of them laugh lightly, and a conversation starts up naturally. Just a back-and-forth of small talk as the two get to know each other a little better.

Before long, the pred is so lost in the conversation that they'd forgotten all about why the prey is there in the first place. They feel even more guilty than before and sit in silence for a moment while they reconsider their options.

Surprising the prey, the pred walks behind them and loosens the binds on their wrists, the prey tentatively shifting their arms from behind their back to brace themselves on the chair as they go to stand.

They turn to smile and thank to predator, but are quickly pinned to the ground and met with the gaping darkness of the maw before them. The prey wrestles and fights against the predator, pushing desperately against their shoulders to wrench their head free- but, like a vice, the predator's jaws only grip tighter, refusing to let as they take a strained, painful swallow.

It's an arduous process, but little by little they work the prey down their distressed oesophagus, the dryness of their skin and clothes scratching at their throat as they cuss themself out for waiting so long- they just taste that good!

One final gulp sounds and reverberates around the empty basement, sending the last of the prey down into them as their gut expands and sags, pushing the chair that just held them out of the way of its girth. The predator gently and curiously feels over their bloated stomach, prodding where the skin stretches, caressing the sore underside.

They have trouble moving, but hoist up their gut and sluggishly carry themself, and their prey, up the stairs out of the basement and into their living room. The rest of their day is spent trapped under the weight on the couch as they try their best to stay awake through the food-coma that suddenly overcame them.

That feeling of guilt they were dreading quickly dissipated as they revelled in the afterglow of the meal . It was understandable why so many predators are so hasty with their prey- if not out of morality, out of pure hedonistic rapacity.

[nomlebean]

Don’t know what to call him. Name recommendations? :3

Official name is Abel

His occupation is a writer

Age:20

Personality- Mostly shy and nervous, but is really nice and outgoing guy when you get to know him

(decided to do a robot/mixed tv pred. A doctor pred is coming soon)

[teal-fiend]

Mistakes Happen

Content: vore, accidental digestion, unwilling prey,

Summary: A pred who has bad coping skills

–

The dim light of your living room flickers against the recently cleaned, dark wood floors. It’s late, and you’d intended for tonight to be a bit of fun—for you. Not for your guest. 

You didn’t mean anything malicious by it, you just wanted to prove a point. You look down at your stomach, still flat, knowing that’s about to change. 

Your guest sits nervously on the couch, shifting under your gaze. Your stomach growls in anticipation, as if it could read your thoughts. 

You had lured them into your home under the pretense of dinner. You suspected that they wanted more, and they would get more. But probably not the ‘more’ that they wanted. 

This prey was someone who you didn’t get along with (you didn’t get along with them. They seemed very… attached to you). But for the sake of other people, you need to get over it. And you had your methods. Tonight you were going to give them a good scare. They'd back off after learning what you are.

You had no intention of making this permanent, so to speak. You didn’t like digesting prey anyway. You preferred to trap them in your belly for a little while, feel them struggle for their life, and then let them out. All’s well. 

“Are you hungry?” Your soon-to-be-prey jokes. They heard your stomach too.

“No,” you say, with a grin. And it’s true; you don’t do this out of hunger.

They have a nervous laugh, glancing up at you. "You sure?"

They also notice the look in your eyes, how you’re inching closer, and how your stomach is still growling. Not adept at subtlety. Do they know what’s about to happen? It doesn’t matter-

"Promise." You stretch your mouth, testing. Feeling the familiar sensation as your jaw loosens, preparing for what comes next. 

The whole process is smooth—you’ve done this a lot. Your guest doesn’t put up much resistance, either or you’ve gotten too good at this. You swallow them down, bit by bit, enjoying the slight struggle. You welcome the familiar feeling of satisfaction that surges through you as your belly starts to swell, expanding with their form. When you finally gulp down the last of them, you pat your now round, firm gut. Your skin stretches tight, and you feel every slight movement from inside.

"There we go," you sigh, running your hand over your belly. Your prey squirm and push against the confines of your body. They’re in there, safe—not that they know it.

You settle back into your chair, resting a hand on your full belly, letting out a small, satisfied burp. A part of you feels giddy about it all. You showed them you could do it, that they were nothing but prey if you wanted them to be. But now… now you have to let them back out. You give your stomach a firm rub, feeling it churn beneath your fingers.

"See? Not so bad," you mutter, as your prey seems to realise the environment isn’t so hostile - Their predator has the stomach on a tight leash. There are no acids out and about right now.

Although you can feel your stomach’s eagerness. It wants to digest. Very badly. You feel it sizing up the prey, squeezing it gently, savouring it. You don’t want to tease it for much longer. 

"… guess I’ll let you out now." You say this out loud, but you sit for a moment longer. Basking in the post-meal afterglow. Observing your stomach as it cradles the prey, gentle because it is obedient. Like a dog balancing a treat on its nose. You smile, and give it a good pat. Enough fun for one night- 

Except, as you sit there, the weight of your belly presses down on you. Warmth pooling through you from the meal, your eyelids start to droop. It wasn’t meant to feel this cozy. The way your gut rests on your lap, heavy and comforting, it tugs at your fatigue.

You yawn. Your brain briefly registers that this is a mistake, but your body pulls you toward sleep like the tide. Inevitable, nothing can be done to stop what is about to happen. This outcome may have been sealed the moment you came up with the idea. You lean back, letting your hands come to rest on your stomach, and before you know it, you’re out.

unbeknownst to the unconscious you, your stomach continues to ungulate as the prey squirms. They become increasingly concerned about your unresponsiveness. As your heart rate and breathing slows, the noises from your belly grow louder, and the squirming intensifies. You don’t have as much control over your stomach while you’re asleep.

---

When you wake up, it’s dark. The house is silent, except for soft gurgling noises coming from your midsection. You blink, groggy, the weight of your belly immediately plain to you.

Reflexively, you let out a thick, rumbling belch. That didn’t sound… good. You get the sense that you may have fucked up.

You swallow hard, a slight twinge of dread settling inside your chest as you rub your eyes and look down. 

Your stomach has changed. No longer tight and firm with clear contours of your prey’s figure. It’s soft and heavy, resting against your lap like a large, overstuffed pillow. You blink, pressing a hand to it. It doesn’t push back. There’s no movement. Only softness, warmth, and the unmistakable sound of digestion; deep, slow, and languid, resonating from within.

"God damn it…" you mutter through gritted teeth, pressing both hands to your rounded stomach. You shake it, hoping for a sign, a twitch—anything. But your stomach is eerily calm. Content.

They’re gone.

“Fuck,” you hiss to yourself. You’re a predator; this is what your body does. You know you’re playing with fire when you put your preferred prey inside your predatory stomach.

But you should have control - if only you hadn’t fallen asleep, this wouldn’t have happened. But now… your guest has processed inside of you, and you’re left with the aftermath: a swollen, satisfied gut and a persistent weight of guilt. Condemning the prey to such a fate. And some disappointment in yourself too.

You groan, pushing yourself up to your feet. The weight of your stomach pulls you forward, making each step a little more laboured than usual. This is why you don’t like to let your stomach go all the way. And you don’t like knowing that it got the better of you.

You hate this—feeling heavy, burdened, unable to hide what’s happened. You dread the questions and comments that will be coming your way in the following days.

Padding into the kitchen, you put the kettle on. Tea, to clear your head, and help settle your rebellious stomach. It churns, hard at work, the digestion well underway, but you feel heavy, slow. You grumble under your breath, hands trailing over your large gut with annoyance.

"This wasn’t supposed to happen," you mutter. "I wasn’t hungry."

The kettle whistles, and you pour the hot water into a mug, steeping the tea as you stand there, absently rubbing the swell of your belly. You take a deep breath, calming your nerves, but the weight of what you’ve done (and what you now carry) lingers.

"Great," you mutter, sarcastic, taking a sip of the tea. "Now what?

You can’t exactly reverse what happened. Your body’s already claimed the meal, leaving you with the consequences. The mass in your belly hangs there, undeniable evidence of your mistake. You scowl, irritated that your stomach exploited your nap.

"Not like I can explain this to anyone," you grumble, leaning back against the counter. You take a curious, calculated glance at your jutted out stomach, wondering how you can make this bulge look less suspicious. 

This could land you in serious trouble. You weren’t supposed to digest them—only spook them a little. But this was too far, and you’ll be dragging around this heavy belly for the next few days. It will be comically obvious; You invited this person over for ‘dinner’. You ate them - you digested them. Everyone’s going to think you did it on purpose. That you were so petty that instead of being an adult and getting along, you ate them. Classic move. 

Next time you show your face, you'll be asked if you’ve seen the prey, because didn’t you invite them over? No-one’s seen them since. Concerning, don't you think? - They’ll see your gut, and know exactly what happened. You won’t be able to argue it was an accident. You grimace in embarrassment at the thought. 

“I hope you’re happy, you bastard,” you say, looking down at your stomach. It offers a noisy grumble, perhaps in reply. You feel a flare of affection towards it, which you are quick to squash. You’re still annoyed.

You can get ahead of this. Send a few texts, apologise. Beg them to understand it was an accident - you fell asleep - but you take full responsibility for your actions. It won’t be a perfect fix, but you can do damage control.

There is a lingering smidge of relief in knowing that you won’t have to deal with your prey's antics anymore. They were deep in your gut now, stored away, gone forever. That was a nice thought. But this wasn’t the way to deal with your problems. You cannot let it happen again.

[mawsnclaws]

Nervous preds who constantly poke and prod at their tummy to ask if you're ok and if you want out.

Confident prey who's cocky persona fades as soon as they're in front of an open maw.

Scary-looking preds who are secretly gentle and sweet, just misunderstood.

Experienced prey walking inexperienced preds through the entire process, careful not to overwhelm the pred.

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[bothsweetandsalty]

I love nervous preds so so so much

Just laying with a head on their stomach as it growls, looking up to see their hands hiding their blushing face and they are all like

“ *grrlll .. ah sorry.. *ggllrnn .. s-sorry I’m just a bit…. *ggrlllll mhhn just a bit hungry that’s all..”

GRRRR gets me WILD

[boiled-ginger-ale]

We get a lot of tango nomming Timmy,,

But how about Jim getting the big end of the stick? I also feel like tango would like it bc warm,,

jim... is conflicted about it, mostly- he is very nervous all the time and tango would really rather he chill tf out because his heartbeat is really loud and the constant questions of if hes still alive or wants out are interrupting his nap, jimmy

if they can figure out bird boy's total lack of pred skills then yeah, tango loves it in there. he loves hanging out with jimmy and being stored satisfies his netherborn instincts so well. he is the most comfy cozy ever

[yummynomms]

NERVOUS PRED! NERVOUS PRED! NERVOUS-

they are my beloved

mmmhm yummy

Preds who get reverse comforted <3 gosh, like no: "YOU ARE NOT A MONSTER!!" RIGHT in their face. gotta be one of my favorite things.

this is my first time posting vore!! very nervous, let me know what you think!

[ryanmarshallryan]

WINNER WINNER CONTEST DINNER

VORETOBER SHORT VORE STORY DAY 11

“I'm impressed how much you've gained for this weight gain contest. Only a week and you're 20 lbs up!”

“I'm nervous, did you see some of the guys out there? One looks like he swallowed a watermelon! What could I eat bigger than that?”

“Hmm… I could think of something,” he said as looked at his own reflection in a nearby glass.

The winner was announced later that day, with an incredible weight gain of almost 200 hundred lbs! Unheard of! One of the judges swore they heard cheering from inside the winner's belly, and had to be rushed off to the medical tent to be treated for heat induced delusions.

Featuring @fuadito from insta as the pred!