#Soft Vore | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

anony-man · 21 hours ago

Text

Dipping my toes back into the side community here. We’ll see how it goes… in the meantime, if this is up your alley, please enjoy. 🫶

2k+ words of RungMax vore. Soft, safe, fluffy. Read on ao3 or under the cut.

When Rung suggested such a strange new approach to handling their more difficult therapy sessions, Fort Max had been pretty hesitant. It was one thing to trust the small psychiatrist to share space with him in the privacy of the office. He was experienced, and he was in his element, and so far no matter what had cropped up during their difficult discussions, he had had no trouble clearing the air and leaving Fort Max feeling lighter than he had going in—usually, of course. If not, he was happy to support and successful in his attempts of offering aid even hours after things had settled.

Rung knew his patients well, and he knew himself even better. It was kind of expected from a mech like him, of course, but Fort Max appreciated it nonetheless. It made heavy conversations easier, and it helped him feel safe, heard, and secure, especially when his mind started retreating back into the cold, dark places it had grown so used to inhabiting.

He trusted Rung, and Rung trusted him. Rung also trusted himself, and he encouraged his patients to do the same. Alas, Fort Max just… hadn’t gotten quite that far just yet.

There was still time, he supposed. He hoped there was still time.

No difficult session was ever begun without proper preparations first, and to his relief, the small psychiatrist always valued prep work over progress. That didn’t mean pressure was never put on him to come out of his shell and open up, but Rung seemed to know just the right mixture of pressure and comfort to get Fort Max on the right track.

He had anticipated another difficult session today, it seemed, and as Fort Max ducked under the doorway and lumbered into the room, he was met with the sight of every creature comfort that existed aboard their ship all packed onto the floor of Rung’s office.

It was definitely going to be one of those days, then, and his chest had already begun to ache from the mounting anxiety.

“Ahh, there you are,” Rung said. He had a warm smile at the ready and an even warmer cube of energon settled in front of him. “Come on over, have a seat. There’s a few things I’d like to address with you before we begin.”

Silently, Fort Max obliged. The room was far from the smallest aboard their ship, but even then, the furniture was sized to Rung’s liking. Small chairs and even smaller decorations were dwarfed all the same compared to the massive mech, and as carefully as he tried to step his way across the floor, its walls still shook with low, thunderous tremors. Rung was even smaller when he was sitting cross-legged on the floor, and Fort Max tried not to let the thought linger in his helm as he knelt down to the doctor’s level and reached for the cube sitting between them.

Rung was quiet for some time, his presence a silent comfort as Fort Max slowly acclimated to the new setup. The pillows and blankets were soft, and the weight of something warm in his servos was grounding. He even tried a few sips here and there, just to say that he had done it. It was never quite enough, though. It was never enough to keep him from spiraling hours after their sessions had ended, and it was never enough to stop him from shifting his focus elsewhere, towards the things lurking in the corners of his mind and the memories tucked deeply out of sight.

It took some time before Rung began to speak, and at first, Fort Max had mistaken it for hesitation on the other mech’s end. Only once the small psychiatrist had started did he realize the long stretch of silence had been intentional.

“I would like to try something today,” he said, “but before I explain what it is, I’d like for you to promise me something.”

For Rung, he would have done just about anything. Rung was the mech who had pulled him out of the darkness and given him a taste of hope time and time again, and the small doctor had proven himself as a safe place to fall, a trusting source of comfort. Fort Max owed it to him, if anything. He owed him the level of trust that was required for the proposed act. The more he listened, however, the more he grew concerned. The more he grew concerned, the more hesitant he became.

The suggestion wasn’t… new, per se. It was new in the sense of performing it, however. It wasn’t new to Rung, but it was new to Fort Max.

He had never eaten a mech before. Primus, he had never even considered swallowing one whole, but here he sat, his digits anxiously fiddling in his lap as he slumped in his seat and still loomed over Rung by far.

“I know it’s a lot to ask,” the little therapist said, his servo reaching out to offer added support.

One of Rung’s servos was about the same size as Fort Max’s smallest digit. He curled in a little deeper, his frown growing.

“What if I hurt you?” he asked, the warm, untouched cube clutched tighter against his chest. He could hardly look Rung in the optics now, let alone lift his gaze from the floor. “I don’t wanna hurt you.”

“It’s safe,” Rung said. There was still a stretch of space between him, but Fort Max could still feel the warmth and assurance comforting him through the words alone. “I promise you, Max, it’s safe. I’ve spoken with Ratchet, and I’ve reached out to a few old friends regarding this matter.”

Fort Max wanted to agree. He wanted to oblige, and he wanted to make Rung happy. And deep down, he… he…

“I don’t know,” he said, shifting in his seat as he balanced his cube between his servos. Even his servos were massive compared to the small doctor. He could probably hold him in both his palms. “I�� I’m afraid something would go wrong.”

Another stretch of silence passed, and he anxiously awaited Rung’s response. The small doctor didn’t seem angry, and he didn’t seem upset. If anything, he seemed sympathetic. No, not sympathetic… understanding.

“I’ll admit, this would be my first time performing this particular approach,” he explained, stretching his legs out and leaning back against the chair behind him. His servos were folded in his lap, and his glasses sat beside him. “But I do believe it would help you, Max. It would be a big step, but I believe it would help.”

The unspoken words still hung heavy in the air. If you are ready and willing, he could almost hear Rung say. I encourage you, but I will not force you.

Rung relaxed, and Fort Max sighed, dragging a massive servo down his face before setting his cube aside and twiddling his thumbs. He could see the appeal, that was for sure. It was just so difficult for him to open up when there was another mech sitting across the room from him, eyeing his every move and gauging his emotions. He wouldn’t be alone, but he would feel alone, and he could sit there, all alone, settled comfortably in the center of the pillows and blankets strewn across Rung’s office floor with the lights dimmed and a comfortable presence warming him up from the inside.

He could still talk, and Rung would still listen. They could make progress. He didn’t even have to look the tiny therapist in the optics for this session… if he took the offer given to him, that is.

He didn’t want to think of the logistics, and he didn’t want to consider the safety concerns involved. The mere thought threatened to launch him back into the past, back where he had been trapped under the control of his abusers and wrapped around Overlord’s fingers. He didn’t want to put Rung into a dangerous situation, and he certainly didn’t want to become like… like them.

“Fortress Maximus?” he heard Rung’s gentle voice call out. “Are you still with me?”

“Yes,” he said, his own voice sounded distant, faint. “I… I want to try it.”

As expected, Rung assured him that he didn’t have to comply. He didn’t have to agree to this, and he didn’t have to just… give in. It was his choice first and foremost, and it was his choice both as the patient and as the one who would host a living, breathing being in the confines of his tanks—but only for a little while, of course, and comfortably so.

The hesitation and fear of punishment was what gave Fort Max pause, but Rung seemed earnest. It was a genuine offer, and that much was obvious. Rung was a genuine mech, though, and Fort Max had slowly come to learn and accept that as fact. In the end, that was what pushed him over the edge.

The logistics were much simpler than he had first imagined, and while it was an awkward situation at first, Fort Max powered through. He struggled for the first several minutes, and the act of choking down an entire mech almost made him call it off entirely. Feeling Rung slowly slide past the slick lining of his throat and settle deep, deep into the pit of his tanks was unsettling at first, but once the small psychiatrist had stopped moving and stopped squirming, he allowed himself a moment to relax into the sensation.

The weight was a foreign sensation, but it wasn’t unpleasant. It was like a warm meal settled in him and filling him up nicely, but… not. Warm, squirming, and just big enough to leave a noticeable swell from the outside, Rung fit perfectly inside his belly, and Fort Max found himself struggling to keep his flustered emotions and hot cheeks to himself.

This was Rung’s idea, he reminded himself, which meant it was safe. He felt safe. He hoped Rung felt safe, too.

Fort Max moved slowly, and he moved carefully. He could feel Rung inside of him, neither struggling nor panicking, and it soothed his fears just enough to let himself relax. It felt good, just like he had expected it to. His belly had stretched out to accommodate the large mass, and he felt warm from the inside out. It was nice… dare he admit that it felt nice?

“How are you faring?” the muffled sound of Rung’s words brought him out of his worries, and Fort Max almost started at the sensation of words rumbling from inside his tanks. “You seem to be pretty relaxed from in here… are you still okay with this?”

Fort Max nodded, lifting a tentative servo to stroke his belly. Then, as he suddenly realized Rung couldn’t see him anymore, stumbled over a verbal reply.

“Yes, I—I… I feel good. I feel safe,” he said, relaxing ever more as he stroked his fingers over the stretched mesh of his belly. “Er… do you?”

It took him a moment to realize the nagging, tickling sensation that left tiny tremors running through the stretched mesh was actually Rung’s laughter and not a sign of a struggle. Fort Max’s face slowly split into a wobbly smile, the reassurance that his tiny doctor really was safe and sound inside of him a soothing thing.

“I am,” he heard the muffled voice say, “and I assure you, Max, it will remain that way. I wouldn’t dare jump headfirst into any new approach for you to try without careful consideration first.”

It was true; Rung had proven himself to be a very trustworthy companion and clinician over their time together. Still… Fort Max worried.

The big mech slowly began making himself comfortable amongst the spread of pillows and blankets lining the floor, and he eventually ended up in what had first been Rung’s spot leaning against the therapist’s chair. He could see the whole room from there, and he could see the door. It was a comforting thought, and it was made even more comforting to realize that Rung was sitting there with him, too.

This was the first time they’d had close contact in such a way since… since the…—

“Talk to me some more, Max,” he heard Rung say. “Where are your thoughts at? Would you like to start our session, or would you like to sit and settle in a little while longer?”

He already knew the answer to that, but it was hard to speak the words aloud. Fort Max slouched a little lower in his spot and rested both servos atop his belly, taking care to ensure they didn’t crush the fragile bot housed inside. He was still processing the level of trust it had taken for Rung to suggest this, let alone go through with it. In addition to that, he was still basking in the warm comfort it brought him to have a bot inside of him, filling up his tanks and warming him, providing a sense of comfort he never would have imagined existed.

He needed a bit more time like this. He wanted to enjoy it just a little longer before they began unpacking the thoughts swirling in his processor that day. To his relief, Rung seemed to understand.

“We’ll sit like this for a little while longer,” the small psychiatrist said. Fort Max could feel him shifting, moving, and getting comfortable inside. “Just say the word… then we can begin.”

#transvoremers #voreformers #soft vore #safe vore #anon man writes

16 notes · View notes