#content warning vore

[blametheeditor]

Voretober Day 28 | Miss

Voretober Prompt List

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If given the opportunity, would you take the chance to go to space and travel the stars? What if the person offering to take you was someone you trusted more than anyone else?

What if that person is no longer entirely human?

CONTAINS SOFT VORE

Content Warnings: Soft, non-sexual vore. Mentions of body horror. Mentions of experimenting on people. Mentions of death and murder, violence. Being trapped against one's will. Disregarding other's wants and opinions. Manipulation. Dehumanization. Abductions. Cursing. Darker themes/tone

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Mike is admittedly upset with his brother and father. 

He only made it to the lab just in time to see the fight end, meaning he didn’t know what led up to Vincent attacking William who then forced him to shut down. What Mike does know is that something was said to make his brother so upset that he got sloppy enough to leave himself vulnerable, followed by his dad taking advantage of it to not only disarm Vincent, but shrink him as well. 

Mike knew the two being completely alone with each other wasn’t going to end well, but never did he expect something like this. 

As soon as Scott finds out, the human is going to have some choice words. But until it’s safe for him to do so, Mike has to ‘straighten everyone out’ in his absence.

Only he doesn’t get the chance. Not when William walks toward him with a look of pride on his face. Puts a hand on Mike’s head to brush his hair back, the other cupping his face to brush away a tear he hadn’t realized was there. 

And suddenly, Mike realizes just how much he missed his dad. 

Vincent is protectively held close as he buries his head into William’s chest without saying a word, feels strong arms immediately wrap around him in an all encompassing hug. With his free hand, he clings to his dad, a silent plea never to be let go. 

He doesn’t regret his initial decision to leave his dad a note saying he’ll be back once he finally got his growth spurt. Doesn’t regret telling Scott and Vincent he didn’t want to be sent home and to travel with them. But no matter how many times Vincent comforted him from nightmares, or Scott scolded him for doing something reckless, they weren’t William. They didn’t know his favorite foods and games without needing to ask. They didn’t know how to comfort him without needing to be told. 

“You’re a lot bigger than I remember.” 

A tearful laugh bursts out of Mike’s chest. “I’m still shorter than you.” 

“You still have a few years to grow,” William murmurs. Rests his head on Mike’s as he takes a deep breath. “I’m glad you’re finally home, Hunter.” 

“Me too, Dad.” 

As the arms slowly unwind from him, Mike almost asks they hug for just a little longer. But his dad doesn’t push him away, only holds him at arm’s length to take him in. “How were your travels?” 

“They were incredible,” Mike begins, growing excited as William watches him attentively, clearly wanting him to continue. “We went all over the universe, and I got to meet every species you’ve studied!” 

“Every species?” William asks, a look of skepticism on his face as he leans away slightly. Something he always did when he knew that Mike’s ‘accidental’ fall into something they were cooking was done on purpose. “Even a Taric?” 

“Twice,” the younger proclaims. “Though you forgot to write down about how they can hibernate at will even if it isn’t cold enough for it, and their extra limbs used for climbing grow longer every year, not every other.” 

“Well I apologize,” his dad smiles. “I will make that correction. Anything else I may have missed?” 

Mike’s eyes light up. Because those were the words he always wanted to hear. The ones where his dad asked him for information rather than always having the answer. “I also learned so much about Earth! I even have pictures, so I can show you what the flora and fauna look like! But I’m an expert on baseball and Hanna-Barbera cartoons.” 

William looks genuinely impressed by the proclamation. “You wouldn’t mind sharing your notes with me, would you?” 

“No sir!” Mike exclaims, bouncing on the balls of his feet with joy, wanting to do nothing more than to run to the ship to grab the book with everything he’s written down about Earth and humans. One that’s a near exact replica of Scott’s, except the human’s book is filled with information concerning Colossus and Colossians. “I can show them right now!” 

William gives a wide smile as he takes his hands off Mike’s shoulders, holding a palm out expectingly. “Why don’t you grab your notes and I will meet you in the operating room so we can discuss your findings while I take care of Vincent?” 

Right, how could he have completely forgotten about-! 

Mike’s thoughts screech to a halt, freezing only a moment before carefully sliding Vincent into the waiting hand. Looks down to see his brother still completely immobilized yet conscious sitting inside his grasp. Replays the scene of watching his father disarm the human turned Colossian before forcibly shrinking him. 

Vincent looks so small inside Mike’s hand. Just like the first time he was shrunk while the younger grew. The only difference is this time he isn’t fully unconscious, but he’s as vulnerable as if he was, once again needing Mike to keep him safe. 

Mike looks back up at his dad, meeting the icy blue eyes he inherited, wanting to trust the taller. Because the three of them are family. 

...one who has a send a bounty hunter because Vincent hates William with a burning passion and wouldn’t heed any message stating they need to come home. Who shrinks Vincent instead of capping his strength at a certain level so they can discuss why the operation needs to be done by William himself. 

Mike remembers when his dad stayed awake for days on end because an operation had failed and Vincent was barely holding on. Of the countless times they cooked together, and the two giants took turns keeping the youngest from jumping into the food. Had always thought that’s what family did. 

Until he saw how comforting Scott was when Vincent needed a repair, talking to him the entire time without a single order to be still and silent, always checking if there was any pain and stopping if there was. When the three of them cooked while the same size, there was always teasing and laughter when they inevitably wore more food than they ate, the exact opposite of restrained shoulder jumps and suppressed smiles. And the ship was never silent. 

Mike doesn’t know if his dad sees Vincent as a son, but even if they are family, the latter is the version he wants. Which means even if William doing the operation is for the best, no one will be putting a single finger on his brother. 

“I’d be happy to share my notes,” Mike murmurs as his fingers curl protectively around Vincent, pulling his brother close and away from William’s outstretched hand. “But I will be doing the operation.” 

His dad’s expression morphs into one of patience. The one that means he’s about to explain that Mike is too young to understand something. “Hunter, this is a rather complicated operation. As confident as you are in your abilities, this far surpasses any repair, including one for his core.” 

“And I will listen to the instructions word for word as you give them. But Vincent made it clear he never wants you to operate on him ever again.” 

“His imminent death bares a far greater importance than his comfort,” William murmurs. 

“It’s not just comfort, Dad,” Mike argues, all but begging for William to listen. Something he’s never had to do when he talks to Scott and Vincent. “He told me how you took him from Earth. Said you forced him to become a Colossian even though he never wanted to be one. You forcibly shrunk him instead of explaining what the operation is and why it’d be best for you to do it.” 

The taller softly sighs. “You aren’t old enough to understand, Hunter.” 

Mike can’t help a glare. “I’m old enough to understand why he doesn’t trust you.” 

William’s eyes harden. “Trust has no place here.” 

“Then why the hell would any of us have any reason to stay after the operation?” 

His dad goes still, searching his face carefully. “You won’t stay?” 

“No,” Mike snaps. “Not if you’re just going to treat Vincent like an object and say I’m just a kid. If we can’t trust you, then we’ll leave right now and find a solution on our own.” 

Because if his dad is going to be adamant on being the one to conduct the operation, then they’ll just refuse help completely. They have enough serums to last for a year, and they’ve already made a lot of progress on research with what little information was provided to the bounty hunter. This just made things a lot easier, and Mike had missed his dad. But if William isn’t going to be trustworthy, then they’ll figure it out themselves. 

“Hunter-” William begins in exasperation. 

“It’s Mike, Dad,” he quietly interrupts, expecting his words to be spoken over. 

His dad doesn’t continue speaking, though, instead meeting Mike’s gaze with a careful look. “It’s slightly different from before.” 

“Mikey’s a nickname for the shortened version of Michael,” he explains softly. “I go by Mike.” 

Whenever Scott isn’t upset and therefore uses his full name. And anytime Vincent introduces him to someone because the nickname is his alone to use. 

“Mike,” William slowly repeats. Waits for a nod to say he spoke the human name correctly. “I want to ensure he lives another ten years without having to worry about complications.” 

“If that is all you want, then you will let me do the operation while you instruct me step by step,” he counters. 

To be honest, he doesn’t know what’s more important to his dad, either having full control over Vincent and possibly making it impossible for him to grow until William gives a certain command, or keeping his son in his life and not burning this bridge forever. Because no matter how many bounty hunters are hired, no matter how many promises are made, they will never come back to this ship if he is adamant that trust doesn’t matter. 

William thinks for a long moment, his face not betraying any emotion and his eyes staying locked on Mike. 

After several minutes, his waiting hand is carefully pulled away despite remaining empty. “You feel confident in your abilities with utilizing a modified medbay?” 

Mike nods once. “Yes, sir.” 

“Then I will guide you through the operation.” 

William wordlessly returns the hug as Mike sighs in relief. “Thanks, Dad.” 

“Anything for you,” is spoken like a promise he can trust. 

Glancing down at Vincent’s prone form protected despite being held between two massive beings, he remembers there isn’t a timer for when his brother will reboot and needs a certain command needed to move by himself again. Even though Mike does know the proper sequence and how to input it, he’s not comfortable with his strength just yet. If he doesn’t dare pinch delicate limbs between his thumb and first finger, then he’s not going to try and make a precise tap on Vincent’s minuscule neck. 

Mike tilts his head up to meet a questioning look. “Can you reset Vincent?" 

William breaks the hug, motioning for the minuscule form to be held out. And despite the possibility this it just to get an opportunity to snatch Vincent away, Mike holds his hand out with his fingers curled protectively. 

He almost misses the quick but careful reach forward to tap the specific sequence. Then the hand’s retreating as Vincent springs to life with a gasp, the scrambling form pulled close for reassurance. 

“You’re a sick son of a bitch,” are the first words his brother growls with a glare up at William, a shaking arm clinging to one of Mike’s fingers. 

His dad’s brow furrows. “I take it the unregistered word is slang.” 

“Sure, let’s go with that,” Vincent snaps. 

Mike takes a step back to give his brother space, gently nudging the trembling form for attention. Even though amber eyes immediately lock onto him, they flicker over to the tower form within reaching distance and back again, clearly afraid of the person who made it so a reset was necessary. 

“Do you want Dad giving me verbal instructions, or do you want us to go through the notes and use those instead?” he asks. Because even though Mike approves of the idea, the only person’s opinion who matters is Vincent’s. 

William doesn’t seem to agree as he speaks over whatever answer was about to be given. “As extensive as my notes may be, there may be unseen complications that require a knowledgeable party to be an active participant.” 

“And we will take that into account,” Mike replies as he carefully rubs Vincent’s arm with his thumb, the tiny figure seething. “But if he doesn’t want you there, then you won’t be.” 

“Mike, I have been exceedingly patient-” 

“Patient about what?” Vincent interrupts as he stands up, his fists clenched. “Pretending that you’ll keep your end of the bargain until I’m on the table and then deciding it’d be best you perform the operation?” 

“Vincent,” William says evenly. “This discussion does not require your input.” 

Mike’s jaw clenches in a silent declaration he will not be saying another word. Will not participate in talking directly over someone while they stand directly between them. 

“It’s going to have it,” Vincent snarls. “You can’t just shut me down and do whatever the fuck you want anymore. If I don’t want you giving instructions on how to permanently limit my strength, or make it so there’s a verbal command to make me shrink without us even knowing that’s what you’re doing, then you. Won’t. Do it.” 

William looks at Mike. Finally looks down at Vincent without tilting his head. “These are quite the demands you’re making. To utilize my notes and equipment while limiting my access. I assume you would be leaving without so much as a goodbye.” 

“You owe me. Not to mention you hired a bounty hunter to bring me here. Don’t sulk because things didn’t go your way and I’m finally talking back by asking to be treated like a human being.” 

When Mike still doesn’t say anything as he’s given another glance, William slowly tilts his head down to properly address Vincent. 

“Then we will sit down to properly discuss this.” 

There’s a long moment of silence as Vincent stares the giant down. “All four of us.” 

Mike’s hand automatically reaches up to gently rub his chest just above his heart at the reminder that while Scott has been in the dark about everything that’s happened, the human wasn’t left alone. Not to wonder through the ship and potentially stumble upon something horrific. Or to have him locked inside their ship until William gave a command considering it had originated from this docking station. Or stand on their shoulder or hand only to get snatched away once his presence was noticed. 

As much as it pains Mike to say it, he doesn’t know if his dad wouldn’t have left Scott alone if the human said he didn’t want to be grabbed. Glad the man agreed that, as much as he hates being stored, it was the best option to make sure he was safe. 

After a moment of a fluttering sensation, Mike feels a distinct but gentle push back at his fingers to confirm Scott’s alright. Though he can perfectly imagine the disgusted face. Wants more than anything to see it. Feels his throat close at the thought of letting the tiny form out of his storage without the reassurance he won’t immediately be snatched away. 

William follows the movement with this eyes as understanding appears. “Your human companion may join in the discussion.” 

“He was going to join no matter what you said,” Vincent growls. “What I need is the promise you won’t touch him. Won’t be left in the same room alone with him. And if he asks you a question, you will answer.” 

His dad’s expression boarders on irritated. But one look at Mike’s steely glare about Scott not being respected, and William nods. “I will provide the same respect I am given.” 

“You are such an asshole.” 

“Can we meet you in the kitchen?” Mike asks, interrupting his dad’s question. “We just need five minutes.” 

A hand is placed on his head to brush his hair back. “If you need anything, let me know.” 

A hopeful smile spreads across Mike’s face as William then walks toward the kitchen without another word. Vincent doesn’t shout anything after the tall giant either, slumping against curled fingers as they walk in the opposite direction to the bathroom. And even though they haven’t been on this ship in three years, and this is the first time Mike’s been a giant navigating through it, they both know the familiar layout. And the moment the door closes, they slump in relief when it registers the offered palm as a resident and therefore has permission to lock it. 

“Holy shit,” Mike breathes, closing his eyes as he takes a deep, long breath. When he opens them, he scowls down at his brother, earning a raised eyebrow. “Why the fuck did you attack him!” 

Vincent bristles. “He threatened Scotty! What the hell did you except me to do!” 

“Not immediately attack him!” the younger exclaims as he sets his hand down on the counter. “You’re the one always hounding me not to let my emotions control my actions!” 

“I’ll admit I made a stupid choice,” his brother begins as he steps off Mike’s hand. Turns to gesture toward the locked door. “But I fucking hate your father.” 

“And that’s why I said to wait for me,” Mike says with a careful poke. 

“And I should’ve listened,” Vincent murmurs as he bats away the finger. “...thanks for rescuing me, Mikey.” 

The giant grins. “Now you owe me twice.” 

“Like I haven’t saved your ass numerous times.” 

“From problems you caused!” 

“We agreed Sara was completely on you!” 

Mike opens his mouth to retaliate, only to hesitate when he feels Scott give a questioning shove. Instead of continuing the argument, he narrows his eyes at Vincent. “This isn’t over.” 

There’s no attempt at getting another point in as Mike closes his eyes, knowing what he’s about to attempt. Though this is only the second time he’s ever stored someone, it only takes a moment of concentration until the small form curled into a ball suddenly appears in his mouth. One that flails and yells as fingers appear to gently grab it. 

Scott breathes heavily as Mike carefully cups his hands around the human. He only looks over the form drenched in saliva as their surroundings are taken in, not even nudging the shaking limbs to give as much space as possible. Then hazel eyes stare directly up at him. “I prefer you eating me over Vince.” 

“I’m sorry, I don’t think I heard you correctly,” Vincent says, pointedly ignoring Mike’s shit eating grin at being deemed as the preferred person when it comes to storing. That means it’s now 5-3 with the younger in the lead. “Could you repeat that for me, Scotty?” 

“I’m not being suffocated for a solid minute when he swallows me,” Scott scowls. Despite the favoritism, Vincent helps the shorter off Mike’s hands once he sets them on the counter and leads him toward a small circular platform as saliva is flicked away with a look of disgust. “And even though I can’t see anything, I think I prefer it that way.” 

“Sorry, Vincent,” Mike smirks. “Looks like you lose this round.” 

“You’re meant to swallow people,” Vincent grouses as he shoves Scott onto the circle. “It’s hardly fair.” 

Scott’s words are lost as the platform activates, the human gasping as a sharp gust of wind rushes over him before disappearing within seconds, leaving him standing there in shock and completely dry. 

“What the hell was that.” 

Vincent hums. “You’re all dried off.” 

“I can see that!”

“It’s a feature only large Colossian ships have but are everywhere on Colossus,” Mike grins as he kneels down, enjoying Scott’s reaction as much as Vincent is as he smirks shamelessly. “It’s the quickest way to dry someone after they were stored.” 

The human’s quiet for a moment, frustration and amazement morphing into wariness. “So does William know we’re here?” 

“Oh he knows alright,” Vincent murmurs as he shoves his hands in his pockets, unable to keep the hardness out of his voice. “He’s actually waiting for us in the other room.” 

“We’re going to talk about how we want to do the operation,” Mike adds when there’s no further elaboration. “We didn’t want you to be left out.” 

Scott looks between them for a moment. “Should I be concerned about why Vince is human sized?” 

“Not anymore,” Vincent reassures. “Though I would appreciate it if you unlocked my shifting for me, Scotty.” 

Mike nods at the concerned glance to say he shouldn’t be worried. Before this, yes, but William has agreed to talk to them. His instincts wouldn’t have let the human out of his storage if he didn’t believe it was safe. 

There could have been an attempt to snatch Vincent away rather than reactivating him. The fact there wasn’t hesitation is enough to trust his dad won’t so much as poke Scott even if given the opportunity. 

Scott moves Vincent’s ponytail as the taller sits down before tapping out a short sequence on his neck. Yells when a giant immediately appears on the counter, the scrambling form swept up and promptly held protectively close. 

Mike’s pulled into a hug once he stands up. Wraps his arms tightly around Vincent as he’s clung to. “Don’t be such a dumbass next time.” 

His brother snorts. “No promises.” 

“I’d prefer there’s never a next time,” Scott scolds. 

[giraffetummy]

I know why people think sfw v/ore isn't a thing. I get it. Does it make me Woefully sad? Also yes. But I Get it.

I want to make sure people know it's like cuddling. Some people get horny when they cuddle, and some just feel safe and happy. It fits the term 'extreme cuddling' pretty well - it really depends on the person. I, personally, am both. It depends on my mental state.

But outright denying the existence of sfw vore is really annoying - do u know what it's like to have someone say what you're doing is 100% sexual, no matter what *you* think, say or feel? It's invasive and disrespectful for literally anything, including vore.

Be civil. Be kind. Respect other people's feelings and boundaries.

Please only interact if you're 18+ and your blog is sfw. Thank you.

[moraltonsnastyconfessional]

[philicheesecake]

UL Content Warning Update

Heyo readers!

So I’ve been getting comments and questions about my comics on other platforms, and one repeated question I’ve been getting a lot is: how gory do my comics get?

There’s sort of a long answer to that, and to those who haven’t read the literature version of my book, I won’t spoil these comics. But it does get MUCH darker, and I consider my comics R-rated/Mature and very violent.

But not to fear! The current comic that I’m releasing is one of a series, The Unseen Legion- Issue 1: Trapped in Sheep’s Clothing (TISC). This first issue does have a lot of gore in it, though it is considered pretty mild compared to future installments that will be added to the series. If you’re squeamish and you aren’t sure if you can finish the series, TISC can be read as a stand-alone story once it is finished. Out of the pages that have already been released, it doesn’t get much worse for this singular comic gore-wise. I will include trigger warnings/content warnings for gore and violence as each page is released, so if you can’t handle these things, please block the following tags: #tw gore, #tw violence, #cw gore, #cw blood, #tw blood, #gore warning, #gore, (etc. I’ll try to include as many tags as possible to try to make sure the filters work.)

Please read safely yall! If you don’t think you can handle my comics, it’s %100 ok to stop reading. Take care of yourself first. You know what you can handle, so trust yourself and your limits before continuing reading.

Anywho, thank you all for your support so far and happy reading! ;)

Content warnings:

This SERIES will contain: soft vore, hard vore, fatal vore, nonfatal vore, unwilling vore, willing vore, gore, violence, dismemberment, trauma, graphic digestion, suffocation, blood loss, drowning, fearplay, death, and more

You have been warned.

[bigwoofmom]

1. Space

Deep in northern Minnesota where the border of North America and Canada met a bright light would sudden envelop one of it's many forests and shimmer off the frost that was already beginning to form this mid autumn as a small orbicular spacecraft that was on a collision to Earth began to slow it's descent before coming to a halt just before touching the surface, extending out a trio of small legs extended out from it's underside before it fully touched down.

After a mechanical whir and a click a circular swirling panel appeared on the ship before unfurling open to reveal a humanoid shape. They almost looked human in appearance it wasn't until that as she floated down from the near blinding light from inside their ship that one would be able to see her dark grey skin and eyes as black as pitch, one of which was hidden behind her long silver hair side-swept to one side of her head.

The alien took one breath and smiled as she breathed out a plume of visible air and felt the pleasing chill of this new planet's temperature on the parts of her body where her protective silver bodysuit didn't touch. She was glad she left the helmet on her ship and didn't land in a populated area that would necessitate retrieving it to show this planet's current occupants the full glory of their new masters.

"Glorious command, this is Scout 0801 Myani Brot'don, I've found it, our new home." Myani breathed out relieved that her people's troubles would soon be over. A small part of her was sad that to survive her people would have to dominate or exterminate this planet's native species. Perhaps she could save a few of them as pets for herself. "Their technology is leagues below our own, with the proper plan it would take nothing more than a small strike force to topple these savages' government-"

Myani's voice was suddenly cut off as she felt a heavy, clawed hand suddenly plop on her shoulder with an audible thump. Coaxing her into jerking her head around to see the fanged filled smile of a wolfess.

"No please go on~ I'd love to make my meal into a buffet." Lucille said before waiting for the offworlder to reply to her goading only to be met with shocked silence. "Hm, I tried~"

She simply shrugged and reached a hand between Myani's legs and with a hand on her shoulder and one on her groin she hefted the alien up off her feet and into the air and shoved her headfirst towards her open maw, jamming her hip deep past her lips and teeth. The scout barely had a moment to kick or gasp as the weighty wolf tossed her head back and gulped deeply, sending Myani down her gullet within moments, forcing the grey skinned alien to curl up within her oppressive gut.

"LET ME OUT OF HERE YOU ACCURSED BEAST!" Myani screamed through the thick walls of flab as she jabbed away at it with her fist and earning herself a belch that rumbled her prison and shook her to the core as the feeling of lightheadedness began to bloom at the sides of her skull. Despite that she could hear her captor lumber about and then the familiar whir of her ship. "AND DON'T TOUCH MY SHIP!"

Myani's demands fell on deaf ears as Lucille was already poking her muzzle around the surprisingly spacious interior of the spacecraft, it reminded her of an old show she was enamored with when she was younger. Seeing the large chair in front of a console and screen she could only assume it was the pilot's seat. With a fittingly wolfish grin Lucille turned, raised her rump in a showy, exaggerated fashion, and plopped her heavy ass down onto the seat causing the metal to creak under her weight and knocking the metallic helmet that was placed on the seat's armrest onto the ground as she wiggled her rump against the cushion to get comfy. "It's a shame you couldn't call out to your friends hun, I would have loved to partake more of your kind's unique flavor~"

Lucille chuckled softly feeling her meal redouble her efforts in fighting for freedom and licked her chops as she shut her eyes, allowing sleep to take her for a bit while her stomach began to bubble noisily around Myani as the would be invader was slowly steeped in an acidic deluge and the rolling pressure of Lucille's stomach.

Hours later when the light of morning dawn began to pour into the ship and glaze over Lucille's closed lids she found herself blinking awake with a startled half-snore before yawning and licking her chops as she scratched at her exposed gut, now smaller than it was the night before after thoroughly pulverizing and melting the offworlder into mush and judging by the bloating she was feeling in her lower gut she could tell she was sufficiently pumped through her intestines. With a firm smack on her belly she struck loose a pocket of gas lodged deep within her core.

"HHhhHooOOOUURRRRrrpPp~!"

As she belted out a mighty belch she felt a scrap of cloth push it's way up her throat and hit the console before her with a wet slap. With a soft amused chuckle as she figured out what she just burped up she reached out and picked up the lacy garment before spreading the dainty pair of green and gold panties out with her index fingers.

"Sci-fi in the front and fantasy in the back I see~" Lucille said with another soft chuckle before depositing the panties into her purse and taking a moment to bend over and snatch up the helmet as well that's when the pressure in her gut made itself known with a small toot. "Huh~ I guess your endurance was leagues below our own~"

With a soft huff she unzipped her jeans and hooked her thumbs into her waistband before pulling it and her underwear down to her thighs, just enough to free her massive asscheeks before letting out a deep sigh as she relaxed her guts and unleashed the proverbial floodgates.

"PpffffRRRrrt~!"

Pushing out a fetid plume of humid gut gas that filled the futuristic ship with a visible green fog before unloading an avalanche of assmud onto the captain's seat, covering it with filth within moments that was flecked with chips of bone and scraps of the alien's bodysuit. With another grunt she squeezed out the alien's skull out of her sphincter and let it plop on top of the pile of muck before giving another sigh.

After wiping herself off and collecting her trophies and left the ship while carrying the helmet under her arm just as the ship began to give off some loud warning alarms. Just as she got about three yards away the ship retracted it's legs before shooting back up into the sky causing Lucille to look up and purse her lips.

"...I wonder if they'll be upset with what happened to their friend..."

[itti-the-mouse]

What is the strangest thing you’ve ever been turned on by? What was the last sexual fantasy you had about? Are you loud or quiet when you masturbate? What do you look for in a partner? What is your favorite fetish? Hope 5 is an okay amount to ask! <3 <3 <3

The strangest thing I've been turned on by... That's a good question. I think I could give this one to Getting Peed In, Cockvore, or Unbirthing.

Ah, I already answered this one on the previous, but just in case that gets buried, I'll copy-paste it here: Me, as my mousie self, bound, gagged, and blindfolded in a glass container while my owner or owners put various bugs in my cage to breed me with.

I am suuuuper super quiet when I masturbate. Living in a house with 3 other people you see. Though, recently, I have gotten to the point where I'll sometimes moan while doing it >//w//<

Well, I need to know them well to start I think. Friendship is the first step to a long term relationship. Maybe we share some kinks, or like the same video games and stuff, that kinda thing.

I also technically answered what my Favorite Fetish is on the last one too, but rather than copy-pasting my previous answer again, I'll list another favorite fetish of mine: Cockvore ^w^ I just absolutely love the concept of being pushed into someone's dick and swimming in their cum~

Thank you for the ask! ^w^

[shanedagoat]

Daily Sketches for April 11th - April 20th, 2024

[stupid-2012tmnt-pics]

who gave him a knife

[ashestoshadows]

Just In Their Nature

Hello my peeps~ First thing i've wrote which features PLA, kinda, nothing really happens besides my character nearly dying due to her dumb mistake of capturing a very deadly Alpha.

(Image credits go to イマット, and was just inspired to write this because of that image)

(And Content Warnings! big things/creatures, nearly implied death/vore, and garchomp)

------------------------

It appeared the newest recruit had big news! She caught an alpha, but what was the Alpha? You had no real clue and you were anxiously awaiting the female to walk through that door as the leader, Cyllene, was writing stuff down on paper. The scratching could be heard throughout the room and you anxiously looked at your Luxio who was purring against your leg trying to calm you down as you sighed, carefully petting their small head thanking them silently.

A noise could be heard outside the door and you were about to walk closer to listen to what was going on but *Creak* the door slightly cracked open as you watched in horror to see the most feared Alpha you were aware of… A Garchomp.

She caught an Alpha Garchomp!? Your heart began racing far too fast imagining what horrors could happen. Your Luxio quickly ran over, leaping onto your arms peeking through the door before shrieking in surprise and horror, your Luxio knew what to fear and knew too well that this 9 ft Pokemon was dangerous. And absolutely terrifying. A loud roar ripped through the whole building as you jumped back, your Luxio still barely in your arms as Cyllene quickly ran over "Y/N! You okay?" she asked, her eyes relatively wide as you barely nodded. Your Luxio shaking and mewling in your arms cowering in fear.

Cyllene quickly dashed out to see the monstrosity outside in the lobby of the building, after you calmed down to see Reynard  with an Alpha nearby. You saw the white haired female trying to calm the Captain as you barely wobbled into the area, your Luxio nervously trailing behind you. Keeping a weary and scared eye on the Mach Pokemon who noticed the small kitten Pokemon and lunged at it,  although thankfully the Pokemon appeared to be a female due to the lack of a notch on their dorsal fin and fortunately your Luxio's was a female as well. The reason that even matters is sometimes they'll only attack Pokemon of certain genders and ignore the other entirely unless provoked.

The dragon gave a quick lick on the face to the kitten who trembled under the dragons intense golden gaze, Luxio or as you loving sometimes called Luxy, ran over to you and hid inside your arms understandably trembling. "Calm down! She's fine, see?" the Garchomp stood right beside her trainer and you felt your mouth fall open, terrified and in awe at the huge size of that creature who stood next to what was the Galaxy teams sky-fallen conversation starter. Ever since you were introduced to Reynard you felt a strong bond with her, almost like she was your sister, scared she'd get murdered by an Alpha or die from a huge height but thankfully that never seemed to happen.

The Garchomp swiftly placed her two winged limbs around the female human almost in a hug-like manner before she slightly crouched as she did so opened her mouth and gave her trainers face a painfully slow and terrifying lick, seeing the maws of an Alpha open and right near your friends head as she looked wide-eyed terrified of what could possibly happen to herself but tried to resist the urge to show it too much. Her limbs began almost pushing the small human up and closer to her mouth as you gasped in pure horror petrified to do anything and you knew you weren't going to be able to do anything, Reynard fell silent as she seemed she was going to begin hyperventilating realising what was possibly going to happen, Cyllene was frozen to the spot too scared to move as you noticed the Ultra ball lying on the ground. You carefully crawled over to it trying to remain out of sight.

Drool was dripping out of the dragon's maw, pooling everywhere. Her mouth huge, and her teeth glistened, putting fear in everyone and everything and Reynard was frozen. She knew this was her end. She knew capturing this beast was dangerous and stupid, and yet she did it, and if you weren't quick enough she'd die right here with all that's left is her body and head crushed to nothing but guts and blood but feeding this Pokemon's hunger.

You swiftly lunged for the pokeball recapturing the huge beast as Reynard fell to the ground, landing in some saliva roughly on her behind as she hyperventilated right there on the spot. Tears running down her face that she was too scared to shed in case she'd die. She wept as your Luxio carefully clambered into her lap purring, trying to calm her down as she ran her finger though the blue and black kittens soft fur and she sighed.

[blametheeditor]

Voretober Day 4 | Vanish

Voretober Prompt List

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If given the opportunity, would you take the chance to go to space and travel the stars? What if the person offering to take you was someone you trusted more than anyone else?

What if that person is no longer entirely human?

MENTIONS OF SOFT VORE

Content Warnings: Soft, non-sexual vore (only mentions for now). Mentions of body horror. Mentions of experimenting on people. Mentions of death and murder, violence. Being trapped against one's will. Dehumanization. Abductions. Cursing. Darker themes/tone

___________________________________

Scott feels both a sense of exhilaration and terror as Vincent pilots them toward a planet the same size as Jupiter. Though there is solid ground somewhere past the thick clouds, getting to it is proving to be a challenge, the purple man currently using most of his weight to correct their course so they don’t crash. 

Apparently, any species their size with the equipment to match shouldn’t attempt going anywhere near such a large celestial body. Not unless they’re experienced and know how significantly stronger the gravity is compared to something the size of Earth. 

Vincent’s certainly proving he knows what he’s doing, and Scott knows more than anyone his best friend knows his limitations. The part that worries him is why they need to go here specifically. Because he was told they were going to get a bigger ship, and he hadn’t thought to ask exactly what Vincent meant. 

Hadn’t realized he needed to until they were already beginning to land on a planet of giants.

Scott’s fear of meeting something big enough to crush him like a bug disappears the moment they burst through the clouds. As the ship stops trying to fight Vincent, the flight becoming significantly smoother, letting him take in what looks to be a planet covered in an iridescent light that’s almost blinding. 

As they get closer, the light begins to turn into a single line, revealing the ground to be a soft silver color. One that moves. And finally, he can make out waves as they crest on the surface. 

It’s an ocean. They’re flying over an ocean. 

“Wow,” Scott breathes. He can almost feel the cool breeze ruffling his hair. “Is that water?” 

“To Pathans it is,” Vincent responds. “It translates to water for me, but it’s nothing like what Earth and a few other planets have. It’s also safe for us to drink as long as you don’t mind being unable to taste anything for a week.” 

Scott wrinkles his nose. “Is it salty?” 

Vincent’s shoulders jump in a laugh. “It’s really sour.” 

Before he can ask how that’s possible, the ship’s turning away from the ocean and toward a very vibrant piece of land, the green making his eyes hurt as they strain from the unnatural color. As he works up a plea for them to go anywhere but there, Vincent’s taking the ship down. 

That’s when Scott finally remembers this is a planet made for giants. As a wave comes up to meet them, he’s left to stare at its monstrous height a minimum of 400 feet. Looks over to see an imposing cliff rattling as the water pounds against it. 

There’s no towering buildings, however. No skyscrapers impossible to comprehend, no houses big enough for someone capable of calling him a pest. Nothing except for a long blue landing strip much like what was at the refuel station meant for ships the size of the one they’re currently flying. 

The foliage makes up for the lack of an imposing city. While the trees look a lot like the ones that made up their forest back home, the size is daunting. Stretching so tall it’s impossible to see the tops through the window. They make the ship seem no bigger than a small bird. 

Vincent doesn’t take them through the forest making the hair on the back of Scott’s neck stand on end. Instead he sets the ship down on the landing strip. Turns his chair to evaluate the damage. 

It’s a lot. Scott’s absolutely terrified of encountering his first giant, and there’s no hiding it even if he tried. 

The purple man hums in thought. “I think it’d be best if we take this nice and slow.” 

“Agreed.” 

Vincent smiles. “The good thing about Path is they accommodate both sizes. Right now, we’re in an area that’s for smaller species only. There’s a trail for Pathans to take if they’re needed but it’s rarely used. Not to mention the market is underground, so they can’t access it even if they tried.” 

It takes a moment for the information to process. “So no giants?” 

“No giants,” Vincent confirms. “Not until we go to buy another ship, and I’ll tell you when we are.” 

Scott takes a deep breath, trying to avoid staring at the trees, half expecting an animal the size of a house to come charging toward them at any moment. “Okay.” 

He still trembles from fear. At the what ifs. Just because massive beings capable of crushing the ship with their foot don’t normally come to this area doesn’t mean they won’t. How safe is this planet really? What if it’s decided today is the day they want to come and take not only the ship, but the tiny figures that come with it? 

How would he and Vincent ever stand a chance against a giant? Would there be anything they could do to stop it...or would that be it? Their lives determined by something that could either kill them effortlessly, or keep them as exotic pets. 

“Hey,” Vincent murmurs. Effectively brings Scott back to the present as he stares at his best friend with wide eyes. Watches as concern hardens into determination. “I won’t let anyone or anything get their hands on you, I promise.” 

Scott’s suddenly stricken with uncertainty. Because he knows Vincent, and promises aren’t made unless they’re intended to be kept. So if his best friend claims he can keep them safe when facing a giant, then that means he will. Not just try, succeed. 

What has Vincent had to face in those 6 years? What towering beings did he have to bargain and plead with, possibly escape from? 

...what is he hiding? 

Scott physically jumps at the last thought before furiously shaking his head. That was too far, not to mention unfair. Vincent has been through literal hell, he’s not going to force his best friend to tell him everything, make the purple man relive things he would rather forget. If there is something important that Scott needs to know, then he will be told. 

“I trust you, Vince.” 

For a brief second, Vincent almost seems distraught. It vanishes however, replaced with a soft smile as he stands up from the pilot’s chair. “Let’s go try and find some provisions.” 

Scott obediently follows after the taller. “Provisions?” 

“Real food,” Vincent clarifies. He stops by the wall of panels next to the door opening a familiar one that holds the colorful packets. This time a pink one is snagged and offered to Scott. “I know nutrition bars aren’t the greatest thing to eat.” 

They aren’t, but Scott honestly thought all space food would be bland. He wasn’t complaining considering everything else space has to offer. Now that he knows there’s a possibility of really enjoying a meal, a bit of his excitement begins to return. Especially when he will most likely be treated to Vincent’s extraordinary cooking. 

Once the packet’s been opened and he’s swallowed the cookie, Vincent opens the doors, letting a warm breeze rush past them as it ruffles their hair and clothes. With a wide grin, Scott eagerly follows his best friend outside, having forgotten how good it is to feel sunlight on his skin. 

Unfortunately, it doesn’t last long. Two steps off of the landing strip and they come to a staircase leading underground. His disappointment isn’t enough to let Vincent vanish from his sight, however, quickly walking down right behind the taller and staying as close as he had when they were on the refuel station. 

“Just make sure you stay close,” Vincent warns, having to raise his voice as a thrum of voices overlapping each other begins to echo the deeper they go. “It’s a bit busy this time of year.” 

Scott can only nod to say he understands, nerves getting the best of him. But just like on the station, once the stairs open up to an expansive cavern, he’s struck with awe. 

To be honest, if he ever explored a cave on Earth, he’s positive it would be something a lot like this in terms of the cave itself. Complete with large rock spires rising from the ground and hanging from the ceiling. He doesn’t think any one of them would shimmer a distinct vibrant blue, though. Nor would it have a large opening in the wide of the cliff to reveal the ocean. 

The main difference is what fills the cavern. Rows upon rows of stalls where dozens of creatures are shouting incomprehensible words as they hold up different items, trying to entice the crowd milling about. Not one thing looks the same, and nothing looks even vaguely familiar. 

Vincent gives a chuckle, and Scott realizes he’s wearing the stupidest grin imaginable. “Do I have to worry about you wondering off?” 

Scott forces a scowl. “Not as long as we see everything.” 

“That I can do.” 

Despite his threat, Scott continues to keep a close distance to Vincent as they begin to walk through the stalls. Which is somehow harder to do this time because the taller seems to be trying to get behind him. Something that, while he certainly appreciates the sentiment of willing to follow this time, scares Scott because he is nowhere near ready to lead. The station wasn’t nearly enough to prepare him for something like this, meaning he stubbornly keeps his position as silent shadow. 

Vincent finally manages to take the hint and begin to lead them through the cavern properly. Making sure they pass by each stall. Stops at a few to ask about a price until he moves on with nothing, or he taps his card as something is carefully handed over. 

“It’s currently harvest season,” the purple man comments as he adds what looks like a yellow ball to his collection of items sitting in the crook of his arm. 

Scott reaches over to snag the fairly large item, huffing when it weighs a bit heavier than he expected. “What does that mean?” 

“Venders are in a good mood,” Vincent smirks. “It also means that I’ll either need to get a bag so I can buy everything while its cheap, or we’ll be making another trip to another planet after we get our ship.” 

He almost forgot about the reason why they’re on this planet specifically. And taking one look at the load Vincent currently carries, and it’s clear there’s not much more he can hold without being encumbered while paying for more. 

Scott feels himself begin to tremble at the thought of finally encountering a giant. Takes a long deep breath. “I-I wouldn’t say no to seeing another market.” 

There’s no hiding Vincent’s surprise at his suggestion. “You’re ready to get our new ship?” 

“As much as I can be,” Scott admits. 

“I’m proud of you, Scotty.” 

He might’ve gotten praised for something Vincent might’ve been afraid of before as well, but he’s still terrified as they walk back up the steps. Feels as though he trudging through mud as they walk back to the ship. Keeps a tight grip on what he thinks might be some kind of fruit to ground himself as they put the bought items away. 

“I need to show you something.” 

Scott’s head snaps up at Vincent’s words, shocked by the seriousness, suddenly worried something bad is going to happen. “What is it?” 

The purple man gestures to the still open door. “You put that melon away, and I’ll meet  you outside.” 

Outside, of the ship? Why do they need to be outside for this? 

“Okay,” Scott nods. Reminds himself this is Vincent. Whatever he needs to be shown wherever he needs to be shown it, then he’ll be there. 

By the time he turns back to the door after setting the melon with the other items, Vincent’s gone. 

Ignoring his pounding heart, he walks out of the ship, looking to his left and right to try and find where the purple man went. There’s neither hide nor hair of him. Almost like he just vanished. 

“Vince?” Scott calls. Starts to walk toward the entrance back down to the market, fear creeping through him. “Vince? Where are-?” 

He freezes in place as a chill runs up his spine at the same time he gets the distinct feeling something’s watching him. When nothing happens, he slowly turns in a circle. Sucks in a breath when he finally meets the eyes that almost seem to weigh him down with their gaze. 

It’s a giant. Not a creature, however, not something inhuman. It has only two eyes, hair on top of its head, five fingers on each hand. He knows those amber eyes, though. The long hair all too familiar. The hand is a deep purple. 

Vincent is staring down at him from over 50 feet as he sits on the ground with his legs crossed. Big enough to hold Scott inside a fist and carry the ship like it’s a toy.

“Hey, Scotty,” rumbles through the air like thunder.

Scott shudders. “V-V-Vincent?”

[spookyscarycreepydollgirl]

I support the right of artists to depict whatever twisted disturbing content they want because I believe fiction is the one place you can do that without anyone getting hurt.

That being said, I do think you should warn people, especially if the content is gory or fetishistic or contains depictions of underage characters or cute animals or triggering material like SA. I even try to put warnings on my posts that include mentions of sex or sex adjacent stuff not just cause of NSFW reasons but because I understand what it means to be sex repulsed.

While I believe fiction doesn’t hurt people, it can still be upsetting to be confronted by heavy or disturbing imagery or themes without any kind of warning. So I think people who make that content should respect that the content is challenging enough that a warning should always be included.

I don’t think it’s a case of “don’t like don’t read” if the reader has no idea what they’re getting into. The same goes for drawings, paintings or film. I’m not saying someone is necessarily intentionally being bad if they don’t include warnings. Plenty of people just assume others have the same threshold as them. But if people are telling you otherwise or you have some inkling that the content could be disturbing then I do think it’s negligent not to try and warn people.

People have told me I’m too lenient when it comes to fictional depictions, but honestly, I don’t think I am. I think I’m very clear on where my line is. If it’s fiction I generally don’t care how disturbing it is as long as I’m warned about it beforehand. Because it allows me to go “no I do not want to see that” and click away. Sometimes I overestimate what I can handle even if there’s a warning but if the artist has done their due diligence and put a warning there, I don’t hold a grudge.

[bumgall]

ngl I feel vore irl would also feel gross & weird, but moreso in a "sinking in a dumpster full of freah organs while in a dark trash bag filled with fresh vomit" kind of way, and less like a "cold, clammy, slimy & with suction cups" kind of way...

Actual image of me fighting for my fucking life on discord

[emrynbird]

She yearned for freedom and solace from her familial home. He wished for companionship after a life of isolation. After a chance encounter at a masquerade ball, a deal is struck between the two to provide what the other desires. But as the horror behind unspoken truths becomes known, this marriage of convenience takes a dark and emotional turn that thrills her...and frightens him...

In the Jaws of an Oak is an illustrated erotic monster romance that is one part Regency fairytale and one part "Bloodborne-esque" horror, following an aromantic woman who is a survivor of abuse and a noble, cursed beast. For fans of Beauty and the Beast retellings where the beast only becomes more monstrous instead of turning human.  

This novella is 34k words with 18 illustrations, includes aromantic, pan, and sapphic representation, and will available August 14th, 2024 on Amazon and itch.io in epub, PDF, and paperback formats.

For full content warnings, see below...

This story explores themes of abuse and grief through the framing of the FMC’s newly found kinks surrounding fear and the MMC testing the limits of his most monstrous qualities. While not seen on page, it is heavily implied the FMC is a survivor of sexual violence and incest. Birth control via herbal remedies is taken on page and there is a brief mention of pregnancy and childbirth. While a majority of this work is queernormative, there is a brief instance of homophobia (past). 

There is one violent death that is described on page that involves dismemberment and being eaten, while all others are briefly mentioned along with attempted filicide.

The FMC and MMC have a significant size difference, that is made even greater via the MMC transforming, and engage in sexual acts akin to BDSM, which include: teeth play, biting, choking, pinning/restraining, deep penetration, knotting, anal, fellatio, tongue fucking (oral, vaginal), and vore-adjacent death ideation.

[softandworm]

Obsessive Devotion

For @nyoomerr for the SVSSS Gotcha 4 Gaza!! The prompt was "Bingge using Shen Yuan as a chew toy" and I kinda ran with it and went in the extreme direction. Had loads of fun with it :3c They're so normal!! CONTENT WARNING: Blood, Implied vore, Implied cannibalism, Vivid Neons, Eye Strain

[losttranslator]

Another problem that needs to be adressed is that no kid arrives on the internet pre-equipped with the knowledge that they are going to see stuff they'd rather not. No kid starts out knowing what to filter and what to avoid. (Especially kids that don't have English as their first language. I sure as shit didn't know to blacklist 'nsfw' and 'bdsm' when I didn't know what the acronyms meant.) Worse even, kids mostly don't have the understanding of WHY adult stuff is bad for them if they are exposed to it too early, so when they come across it they don't know that it's hurting them.

Like, seriously. What warning signs were there in Fanfiction.net fandom pages as you browsed through story summaries? Sure, you could filter out 'romance' and 'mature,' but as a 12-yo kid, I didn't know what it meant for a story to be tagged as romance (because let's be real, many of the mature ones weren't tagged as mature because it hid them from searches by default and authors didn't want to lose on potential readers) and why I needed to stay away from it. Only purposely seeking out age-appropriate gen stories never stopped me from coming across a whooooooole bunch of EXTREMELY graphic and shocking stuff that I could barely even recognize as scarring at the time. And when I arrived on tumblr at around 14, there was even more stuff I was totally unaware that I should block and avoid, because I didn't even know that stuff existed before I came across it. I didn't blacklist incest until I'd already come across it, because as a kid it doesn't occur to you that people you followed for the fanarts will put incest on your dash.

Individual blogs can be marked as 18+, but you don't see the blog's header when you come across it in a character tag, and the problem of very, very poorly tagged posts being everywhere remains.

The usual response is "it's the sole responsibility of parents to manage their kids' screen time" but that's an increasingly unrealistic expectation in a world where screens are everywhere.

I am NOT saying fandom shouldn't have adult content, btw - I'm saying placing the responsibility of curating their own experiences on kids is just as unreasonable as tone-policing adults and stopping them from having their own spaces. Kids, by the very reality of their limited life experience, are not capable of knowing how to keep themselves safe from dangers they know nothing about.

Just saw someone say something like "proshippers stop inserting yourself into minor filled spaces" (referring to fandom), so daily reminder fandom was never made for or by kids. It has always been predominantly adults.

Kids are welcome in fandom, but they are the ones who must read the signs warning not to enter 18+ spaces

[urfavoritewriter]

Sleepeating

A commission for a user who prefers to remain anonymous, I had an absolute blast writing this commission that I overshoot well past the word count. Thank you so much for commissioning me! Content: Endosoma, safe vore, belly bulge, belly noises, squirming prey, struggling prey, internal view, accidental vore, sleepwalking vore, swollen belly, round belly, casual vore, male pred, human pred, M/M, large belly, stomach noises, tight stomach, prey struggling inside, long-term vore, unwilling prey, teasing, male prey.

The room was a patchwork of sleeping arrangements—an air mattress in the corner, a pile of mismatched blankets on the floor, and a couple of sleeping bags sprawled haphazardly around the twin beds. The glow of the TV bathed the room in flickering light, an old movie playing at low volume as the group lounged in various states of relaxation. Empty snack wrappers littered the nightstand, the faint smell of buttery popcorn hanging in the air.

“Alright, rookie, rule number one,” said Greg, a wiry guy with messy brown hair and a mischievous grin. He pointed a finger at the newcomer, his tone half-joking but carrying a thread of seriousness. “Don’t. Leave. The bed. At night.”

The newcomer, Andrew, raised an eyebrow, shifting awkwardly on the makeshift bed he’d been given. His dark hair was slightly tousled, and he fidgeted with the hem of his hoodie. “Uh… why?”

Zach, the host and arguably the most relaxed of the group, leaned back on his bed, his legs sprawled out like he didn’t have a care in the world. His blonde curls fell into his eyes as he glanced at Andrew with a lazy smile. “Because Matt sleepwalks,” he said, nodding toward the tallest guy in the room, who was currently shoving the last handful of chips from a bag into his mouth.

Matt swallowed, brushing crumbs off his shirt. “I do not sleepwalk that much,” he protested, though his friends groaned in unison.

“You tried to eat Greg’s shoe last time,” said Sarah, who sat cross-legged near the TV, her black hair tied in a loose ponytail. “Like, full-on chomped it.”

“I thought it was a burrito,” Matt shot back, raising his hands defensively. His broad shoulders and tall frame made him look intimidating, but the sheepish expression on his face softened the effect.

“Dude, you licked it,” Greg added with a laugh, tossing a pillow in Matt’s direction. “That’s where all the foot fetish allegations come from.”

Andrew chuckled nervously, glancing between the group. “So… what, do I need to sleep with one eye open?”

“Nah,” Zach said, waving a hand dismissively. “Just stay in bed. You’ll be fine. Matt’s like a human vacuum when he’s out of it, but as long as you’re not walking around, he’ll leave you alone.”

Andrew didn’t look entirely convinced. “A vacuum?”

“Yeah, a hungry vacuum,” Sarah teased. “Last time he cleaned out half the fridge. And Greg’s shoe, obviously.”

Matt groaned again. “Can we not make me sound like some kind of sleepwalking menace? I’m perfectly normal most of the time.”

“Yeah, sure,” Zach said with a smirk. He grabbed the remote and flicked through the TV channels before settling on a cheesy horror movie. “Just remember, Andrew, don’t wander around if you hear anything. It’s probably just Matt.”

Andrew nodded slowly, pulling a blanket over himself. “Got it. Stay put. Avoid the hungry vacuum.”

Greg snorted. “Smart guy. You’ll survive the night.”

The group laughed, the easy banter filling the room as the movie played in the background. Matt stretched, his frame nearly brushing the ceiling, before collapsing onto his pile of blankets with a loud yawn.

“Alright, lights out soon,” Zach announced, reaching for the lamp by his bed. “Let’s try not to add any more sleepwalking incidents to the list, huh?”

Matt grumbled something incoherent, already halfway to sleep. Andrew, still a little unsure of what he’d signed up for, settled into his makeshift bed, his mind buzzing with the warnings and teasing.

The room gradually grew quieter as everyone drifted off, leaving the TV to cast faint shadows across the walls. The night stretched ahead, calm and uneventful—for now.

Andrew stirred awake to the faint creak of a door hinge. His eyes fluttered open, the dim glow of the muted TV casting flickering shadows across the room. The others were still sprawled out in their makeshift beds, their steady breathing filling the quiet with a rhythmic hum. For a moment, Andrew thought he’d dreamed the noise—until he heard another faint sound.

Crunch.

His brow furrowed. It wasn’t loud, but it was distinct, like someone biting into a cracker. Groggily, he sat up, rubbing the sleep from his eyes as he scanned the room. Everyone else seemed undisturbed, bundled in blankets or sprawled carelessly. Except—he counted quickly—Matt wasn’t there. The mound of blankets that had been his bed was empty, the pillow pushed to the side.

Andrew sighed, shaking his head as the warnings from earlier echoed in his mind. Matt sleepwalks. For a moment, he considered lying back down. It wasn’t like it was his problem, right? But the faint clink of something metallic, like a fork hitting a plate, piqued his curiosity. What’s he even doing?

Carefully, Andrew swung his legs over the edge of his mattress, the cool floor sending a faint shiver through him. He tiptoed toward the door, avoiding the stray wrappers and pillows strewn about, and gently turned the knob. The hallway was dark, the faint orange glow of a nightlight at the far end barely illuminating the space. He stepped out, his socked feet making no sound against the wooden floor.

Another crunch. Then the faint sound of chewing. Andrew followed it, squinting into the darkness as he made his way toward the kitchen. The air was cooler out here, the silence broken only by the occasional creak of a floorboard beneath his weight.

As he neared the source of the sounds, the faint hum of the refrigerator reached his ears. Then another noise—a soft, wet slurp, followed by what sounded like the rustling of a bag. Andrew hesitated for a moment, his heart beating a little faster. Is he seriously eating in his sleep?

He rounded the corner into the kitchen, the faint glow from the refrigerator spilling across the tile floor. Matt was there, hunched over slightly, one hand gripping the fridge door while the other clutched a half-empty bag of chips. His tall frame loomed in the dim light, his broad shoulders casting long shadows against the wall. His head moved slowly, rhythmically, as he chewed on something, completely unaware of Andrew’s presence.

Andrew stifled a laugh. They weren’t kidding. He really is a vacuum. He stepped closer, the floor cool beneath his feet. “Matt?” he whispered, his voice low to avoid startling him.

No response.

Andrew frowned, tilting his head. Matt’s movements were slow and deliberate, like he was in a trance. He dipped his hand into the bag again, pulling out another handful of chips and shoving them into his mouth without so much as glancing around. His other hand lazily swung the fridge door shut, casting the room into near darkness except for the faint glow of the microwave clock.

“Matt,” Andrew said a little louder, stepping closer.

Still no response. Matt’s chewing continued, unhurried and oddly methodical. Andrew couldn’t tell if his eyes were open or closed in the dim light, but there was something unsettling about the way he stood there, his tall frame casting looming shadows that swayed ever so slightly with each movement.

Andrew rolled his eyes. “Alright, buddy, back to bed,” he muttered, reaching out to nudge Matt’s shoulder. “You’re gonna—”

Before he could finish the thought, Matt’s head turned sharply, and Andrew froze. His mouth still moved rhythmically, chewing, but his gaze—or lack thereof—seemed distant, unfocused. His expression was blank, almost eerie, as if he wasn’t entirely present. Andrew took a step back instinctively, his pulse quickening.

“Uh… Matt?” he said hesitantly.

Matt didn’t respond. Instead, he turned back toward the counter, setting the empty chip bag down with a slow, deliberate motion. Andrew watched, unsure of what to do, as Matt’s hand hovered over a loaf of bread, his fingers brushing it as if deciding whether to grab it next.

“Okay, this is getting weird,” Andrew muttered to himself, taking another cautious step forward. He reached out again, this time aiming to grab Matt’s arm and steer him back toward the hallway. “Come on, man, let’s—”

Matt moved suddenly, his hand shooting out with surprising speed to grip Andrew’s wrist. Andrew’s breath hitched, his body tensing as Matt’s grip tightened. For a moment, Andrew thought he’d snapped out of it—that he was awake—but then Matt’s blank expression remained unchanged, his gaze fixed somewhere beyond Andrew, as though looking through him.

“Hey, uh, Matt? You good?” Andrew stammered, his voice wavering slightly.

Matt���s grip pulled him closer, the motion slow but unrelenting. Andrew’s heart raced, the air suddenly feeling heavier as he tried to tug his arm free. But Matt’s strength was impossible to resist, his movements steady and unnervingly purposeful.

“Okay, this is not funny anymore,” Andrew muttered, trying to keep his voice calm as he stumbled forward. The faintest hint of warm breath against his neck made him freeze, and in the dim light, he caught a glimpse of Matt’s mouth opening, his jaw stretching slightly in a way that made Andrew’s stomach twist.

What the hell is he doing?

Andrew tugged harder, but Matt’s grip was like iron, and his slow, trance-like movements didn’t falter. The air was thick with tension, the quiet hum of the fridge the only sound as Andrew realized, too late, that Matt wasn’t just sleepwalking.

He was hungry.

Andrew’s heart slammed in his chest as Matt’s grip tightened around his wrist. His breath hitched as he watched Matt’s jaw part further, the glisten of his tongue catching what little light remained in the kitchen.

“Matt?” Andrew’s voice cracked, his throat dry. “Matt, what the fuck are you doing?”

Matt didn’t respond, his head dipping slightly as his tongue slid over Andrew’s arm, leaving a wet, hot trail along his skin. The sensation made Andrew recoil, a sickening mix of fear and confusion twisting in his gut. The warm, slick press of Matt’s mouth closed around his hand, the wetness enveloping him inch by inch.

“Dude. DUDE!” Andrew yelped, his voice rising in pitch as he yanked at his arm. But Matt’s grip was unyielding, pulling him further in as his lips sealed around Andrew’s forearm.

Andrew’s panic flared. “Okay, okay, stop. You’re—you’re fucking sleepeating, man.” His voice wavered, fear lacing every word. “I’m not the food you’re looking for.”

Matt didn’t flinch. His throat emitted a low, almost guttural moan as he sucked harder, the heat of his mouth traveling up Andrew’s arm. Andrew froze, the realization slamming into him. Matt wasn’t biting. He wasn’t tearing at him like some animal. No, Matt was tasting him, savoring every inch as he worked his way upward.

“You’re not serious,” Andrew whispered, his voice trembling as he felt the first tug of Matt’s throat muscles against his fingers. The slick, rhythmic pressure sent a shiver through him. “Oh my God, you are serious.”

His fear spiked as Matt tilted his head back slightly, his lips creeping past Andrew’s elbow. The tight pull of Matt’s throat was unmistakable now, the wet, swallowing sounds filling the silence. Andrew thrashed, his free hand shoving at Matt’s shoulder, his legs scrambling against the tile.

The realization hit Andrew like a brick: He’s not going to chew. He’s—he’s actually swallowing me whole.

“Let go! Fuck, Matt, stop!” Andrew yelled, his voice cracking as he pushed against Matt’s solid frame. But Matt didn’t even flinch. His other hand reached out, grabbing Andrew’s free arm and pinning it firmly at his side.

“Matt, wake up! Wake the fuck up!” Andrew’s voice was frantic now, his breathing shallow as he realized he wasn’t winning this fight. The heat of Matt’s mouth climbed higher, engulfing his bicep as his throat worked in steady, deliberate gulps.

The sound of swallowing filled Andrew’s ears, wet and unrelenting. Each gulp sent a wave of pressure rolling over his arm, pulling him deeper. The slick walls of Matt’s throat pressed tightly against his skin, the heat unbearable, as though the demon vacuum of a friend was actually pulling this off.

“No—no way,” Andrew gasped, his voice shaking as he felt his shoulder press against Matt’s lips. “You can’t—you can’t actually—” He cut off with a yelp as Matt’s jaws stretched wider, the grip around his other arm tightening as it was shoved forward to join the first.

Matt’s body shuddered, his throat rippling as he moaned softly, the sound sending a sick chill down Andrew’s spine. Andrew squirmed harder, kicking out in blind panic, but Matt’s sheer size and strength made resistance feel hopeless.

Matt’s mouth stretched further, the slick wetness of his tongue sliding up Andrew’s arms and across his collarbone. A hot, humid wave of air rushed over Andrew’s face as his head was pulled inside, the suffocating heat making his skin prickle. His heart hammered wildly as his cheek grazed one of Matt’s teeth, smooth and solid, before his tongue pressed firmly against his jawline, dragging upward.

The texture was overwhelming—slick, wet, and unnervingly soft as Matt’s tongue worked under his chin, tasting him with deliberate, almost indulgent motions. Andrew’s nose was filled with the overpowering scent of saliva mixed with the faint, salty tang of whatever Matt had been eating earlier. The smell was thick, clinging to him, and the wet sounds of Matt’s swallowing filled his ears, drowning out his frantic thoughts.

Andrew’s head tipped back as Matt’s tongue curled up around it, smearing saliva through his hair, the wetness soaking into every strand. The pressure from Matt’s teeth framed him on either side, the curve of them brushing harmlessly against his skin, a terrifying reminder of the power being exercised with such unnatural care. The rhythmic movements of Matt’s throat muscles began to pull at him, the slick walls of his gullet brushing against the top of Andrew’s head.

Matt’s throat opened wide to welcome Andrew’s head, the slick, rippling walls pulling him deeper with a relentless rhythm. The heat was overwhelming, wrapping around his face as his chin slid past the soft, yielding base of Matt’s tongue. Andrew’s breath came in shallow gasps, the humid air thick with saliva as his ears were engulfed, the world outside muffled into nothing but the wet, squelching sounds of Matt’s swallowing.

“Matt! Please!” Andrew’s voice cracked, the reality of his situation slamming into him. He wasn’t just being tasted. Matt was swallowing him whole, his slick, warm throat stretching to accommodate him inch by inch.

With a soft, satisfied moan, Matt’s lips closed over the base of Andrew’s neck, his tongue pressing firmly against his nape as he paused to savor the flavor. The tight grip of Matt’s throat muscles around Andrew’s head was unrelenting, the pressure squeezing his features as the walls flexed in slow, deliberate waves, coaxing him further down into the slick, undulating depths of Matt’s body.

Andrew’s chest heaved as his shoulders disappeared past Matt’s lips, the overwhelming heat and wetness pressing against him from all sides. The rhythmic contractions of Matt’s throat dragged him deeper, his body sliding slowly but steadily downward.

“Let me go! You can’t—stop!” Andrew cried, his voice muffled now as Matt’s throat worked around his upper body, pulling him further inside. His head tilted back instinctively, his face brushing against the slick walls as he tried to find space to breathe.

Matt’s hands moved down, gripping Andrew’s waist as he adjusted his angle, tilting his head back even further. The motion sent Andrew sliding another few inches downward, the wet pressure of Matt’s throat wrapping tighter around him.

Andrew’s voice was hoarse now, his struggles growing weaker as Matt’s stomach loomed closer. He kicked out again, his legs finding no purchase as the strength of Matt’s throat muscles overpowered him.

Matt’s moan was louder this time, his hands gripping Andrew’s hips firmly as he tilted his head back once more, his jaws working over the final stretch of Andrew’s torso. The wet gulping sounds grew louder, more insistent, as Matt’s body adjusted to the bulk now sliding into his belly.

Andrew’s heart pounded wildly as the realization hit him in full force: Matt wasn’t stopping. He wasn’t waking up. And soon, he would be completely inside.

Matt’s lips stretched wide as Andrew’s chest passed through, the tight heat of his throat squeezing Andrew’s arms together and forcing them deeper into the belly below. The slick walls of Matt’s esophagus massaged him downward, inch by inch, the steady, relentless contractions making Andrew’s struggles futile. His muffled voice rose in panicked protests, but the pressure around him drowned out all but faint, garbled sounds.

Andrew’s wrists were the first to breach the stomach, the shift in temperature unmistakable as his hands entered a tight, churning space. The walls were slick and undulating, pressing in on him with rhythmic movements that kept him immobilized. His fingers twitched, brushing against half-digested food, the texture both slimy and unrecognizable. Crumbs of chips, something soft that might have been bread—it all surrounded him in the claustrophobic chamber.

“Matt!” Andrew’s muffled voice wavered, his wrists flicking helplessly as he tried to push back against the walls, but the unyielding stomach held him tight. The low gurgling noises grew louder, echoing in his ears as Matt’s body welcomed more of him inside.

From the outside, Matt’s stomach began to expand visibly, the taut skin rounding out with each inch of Andrew’s upper body. The bulge of his shoulders slid into Matt’s chest, making his throat stretch impossibly wide for a moment before the mass moved downward. Matt’s belly swelled larger, the distinct outline of Andrew’s arms faintly visible beneath the skin before they were engulfed by the folds of Matt’s stomach.

With another deep swallow, Matt worked past Andrew’s waist, his powerful throat muscles dragging him down steadily. Andrew’s head and shoulders entered the belly, the space impossibly tight as the walls pressed against him from all sides. He could feel the heat intensify, the air thick and humid, the noises of digestion surrounding him in a way that made it impossible to think.

“Matt! Let me—ugh—out!” Andrew’s voice was barely audible now, his movements weak and restricted as Matt’s stomach continued to stretch. The taut curve of Matt’s belly shifted with Andrew’s struggles, faint ripples moving across the surface as Matt leaned back slightly, savoring the sensation of fullness.

The bulge of Andrew’s hips reached Matt’s lips, and with one final, deliberate gulp, Matt began to take in his legs. The weight in his stomach grew heavier with each inch, the mass pressing firmly outward and rounding his belly into a large, pronounced dome. The elastic waistband of his shorts struggled to stay in place, the fabric digging into the curve of his swollen abdomen.

Andrew’s feet kicked faintly as they slid closer to Matt’s maw, but the demon vacuum of a friend was unrelenting. Another deep swallow brought Andrew’s thighs past his lips, and with a final, wet gulp, Matt’s jaws closed over Andrew’s feet. He tilted his head back one last time, his throat bulging as the remaining length of Andrew disappeared inside him.

The last of Andrew slid down, his curled legs folding into the cramped confines of Matt’s belly. The stomach expanded further, the tight skin visibly rippling as Andrew shifted and pushed against the walls. From the outside, Matt’s gut was enormous, the round shape jutting forward and shaking slightly with Andrew’s struggles. The once-faint sounds of digestion were now louder, a chorus of gurgles and sloshes as Matt’s stomach worked to accommodate its living occupant.

Matt let out a low, satisfied groan, his hands resting on the massive swell of his belly. The weight pressed down on his thighs as he adjusted his position, leaning back slightly against the counter. His fingers traced the outline of the bulge, faintly visible movements beneath the surface making him chuckle softly in his sleep.

Inside, Andrew squirmed, his body contorted in the tight, sweltering chamber. The heat and pressure were overwhelming, the rhythmic contractions of Matt’s stomach keeping him firmly in place. His muffled protests barely registered as Matt shifted, patting his belly with one hand, causing the entire dome to jiggle slightly.

From the outside, Matt’s gut was impossibly round, shaking faintly as Andrew’s movements stirred the contents within. The sight was surreal—a massive, bloated belly rising and falling with Matt’s steady breaths, the occasional ripple betraying the fact that someone was still awake and aware inside. With a faint snore, Matt leaned back further, completely oblivious to the chaos within his oversized stomach as the night stretched on.

The sunlight filtered through the blinds, casting golden streaks across the living room as the soft murmur of the TV played in the background. Most of the group had already gathered, sprawled across the couches and chairs in various states of morning grogginess. The smell of coffee lingered faintly in the air, mingling with the scent of leftover snacks from the night before.

“Dude, you have to see this,” Greg said, barely stifling his laughter as he pointed toward the couch. “Matt’s… uh, looking a little heavier this morning.”

Zach, sipping from a steaming mug, leaned over the back of his chair and raised an eyebrow. “Holy shit, Matt. You pack the fridge in there or what?”

All eyes turned toward the corner of the room, where Matt sat reclined on the couch, one arm draped lazily over the massive swell of his gut, the other scrolling casually through his phone. His belly was enormous, rounded and taut, rising and falling slightly with his breaths. It shook faintly every few moments, ripples traveling across the surface as muffled movements from inside caused the entire dome to wobble.

“Morning,” Matt said, barely looking up from his phone. His voice was casual, almost bored, as though this were just another day. He gave his belly a light pat, the sound echoing faintly in the room.

“Morning? That’s all you’ve got?” Sarah snorted, her eyes wide as she gestured toward his gut. “Are we not gonna talk about that?”

Matt finally glanced up, his expression unfazed. “Oh, this?” He gave his belly another pat, his hand sinking into the firm curve before it wobbled under his touch. “Yeah. I think I, uh… picked something up last night.”

From within, a faint, muffled voice was just barely audible. “Matt! What the hell’s going on? Let me out!” The bulge shook again, Andrew’s movements sending another ripple through the bloated surface.

“Oh my God, is that Andrew?” Greg burst out laughing, nearly spilling his coffee as he doubled over. “You ate him?”

“I didn’t eat him,” Matt said, his tone defensive but still nonchalant. “I was sleepwalking. He probably shouldn’t have been wandering around anyway.”

“Classic Matt,” Zach said, shaking his head with a grin. He grabbed a bag of chips from the counter and tossed it onto Matt’s belly. The bag bounced slightly before settling. “Can’t keep track of what goes in, huh?”

“Apparently not,” Matt muttered, giving his stomach a gentle rub as it gurgled faintly. Another ripple moved across the surface as Andrew shifted inside, his muffled protests drowned out by the low, groaning sounds of the packed belly.

“You’ll get out eventually, Andrew!” Sarah called out, her voice teasing as she leaned back against the armrest. “It’s just, uh… not as easy getting things out of Matt as it is getting them in.”

The group erupted into laughter, and even Matt couldn’t suppress a small chuckle, his hand absently stroking the round swell of his gut. “Yeah, you might be in there for a bit,” he admitted, his voice casual. “But hey, you seem comfy enough.”

“Comfy?” Andrew’s muffled voice rose again, frustration clear even through the thick walls of Matt’s stomach. “It’s cramped, it’s hot, and I’m—ugh! Stop laughing!”

“Sorry, man,” Zach said, his tone anything but apologetic as he tossed a pillow onto Matt’s stomach. “It’s just… you’re part of the crew now. Matt’s version of a warm welcome.”

Sarah shook her head, grinning. “Andrew, if it makes you feel better, you’re not the first thing Matt’s eaten in his sleep. Just, uh, definitely the biggest.”

Greg chimed in, smirking. “And the loudest. Dude, that belly’s been shaking all morning.”

The group’s laughter filled the room again, and even Andrew seemed to give up on protesting, his movements slowing inside the tight confines of Matt’s stomach. Matt, unbothered, leaned back further into the couch, his phone still in hand as he stretched his legs out lazily.

“Well,” Matt said, his voice calm as ever, “I guess we’re all set for breakfast… and entertainment.”

Another round of laughter erupted, and the room settled into a comfortable rhythm, the group teasing and chatting as Matt lounged with his oversized, animated belly. Andrew shifted slightly inside, grumbling muffled protests, but the group’s lighthearted energy made it clear—this was all just another part of the fun.