#danganronpavore

[mlmvoreconfessionals]

Nidai in the halloween vore duel tournament against Kyle from animal crossing?

Sure thing! I like the very out-there match up going on.

K.yle really just joined this thing on a whim. Sure, he’s eaten dudes from time to time--who hasn’t? But he’s not much of a...sporty guy. He’s a musician, and a damn good one at that. But he figured winning some big contest thing would be great publicity for his band. Might get them out of the ‘playing at bars for next to nothing’ pit they’re stuck in. Course, when he had that idea, he hadn’t really expected...to get stuck against a guy like this.

N.ekomaru starts tall on the other side of the mat, an imposing wall of muscle mass with a very intense glare. Being completely exposed makes him even more intimidating. That’s the kinda guy who looks like he’d be doing something like this. K.yle had hoped for like...weight classes or something to be used here. Seems it’s a lot more loose and free-for-all. Man...his band is going to have to look for a new singer at this rate...

The whistle blows to start the match and K.yle braces for impact. N.ekomaru doesn’t come charging in like he was expecting, though. Instead, the coach is glaring at him still. “C’mon, don’t just stand there!” the man shouts out in a booming voice. “Lemme see what you’re capable of! Come at me with EVERYTHING YOU’VE GOT!”

K.yle hesitates a bit, if only because this guy is super freaky. But getting the first hit in puts him at an advantage, right? So K.yle dashes forward with a yell and tries to hit the guy with a punch, thinking he might be able to wind the coach at least. The wild dog’s paw cracks slightly when he hits the rock-hard abs of his opponent and he yelps, quickly jerking his hand away and holding it to his chest protectively.

N.ekomaru looks very unsatisfied. He crosses his massive arms, his eyes sparking. “That was TERRIBLE! Your form was all wrong! Do you honestly call that a punch?!”

“Ah…um…yes?” K.yle has no idea what kind of response he’s supposed to have. He’s always heard that this guy can be kinda weird but…this is definitely more than weird. “What was wrong with it?”

“Here, let me show you.” N.ekomaru huffs and comes over, grabbing K.yle’s arm roughly and forcing him into position. They spend a few minutes with N.ekomaru showing K.yle proper fighting stances and how to punch effectively. It leaves the crowd…mostly confused.

“Now, use what I taught you and give me a proper punch!” N.ekomaru shouts. K.yle sizes the coach up again, gulps softly, and punches him. It gets a grunt from N.ekomaru and K.yle doesn’t actually feel as much pain in his hand from doing it. It gets N.ekomaru laughing.

“That’s more like it! Now…let me show you what a punch can really do.” N.ekomaru reels his arm back and uppercuts K.yle right in the gut. The wolf dog’s eyes widen and the wind is knocked out of him. His feet even lift off the ground for a second before he collapses to the ground and curls up tight.

K.yle is left gasping and coughing, struggling to get a single breath in. He’s grabbed by the nape of his neck and hoisted up into the air. He looks like a little bundle of fur while curled up like that. Just the right side for him to fit into N.ekomaru’s yawning jaws.

It takes a rough shove and a few hard gulps, but a massive bulge goes down N.ekomaru’s thick neck in no time. It slides past his chest and then makes his abs bloat out a little bit.  Most prey would have started to scream or struggle, but the winded K.yle can’t even make a sound. He gets no chance to even attempt resistance as N.ekomaru’s abs flex down hard, flattening out with a series of cracks and squelches.

A deep, harsh belch roars out of N.ekomaru as all the air is squeezed out of his gut. Some fur from K.yle flutters off his breath as well. The crowd, which had mostly been quiet and a little bored for most of that, erupt into cheers and shouts from such a brutal and fast takedown.

N.ekomaru grins and slurps over his lips, giving his abs a few pats. That was good enough protein. Should help with whatever he has to face next. He walks off to get some water while the crowd cheers. All that fur made him thirsty and he wants to be in good shape for when he has to deal with an actual threat.

[mlmvoreconfessionals]

Pred Nekomaru with armpit and pec vore

Definitely a good idea!

"So, you want to add to my bulk, huh?" N.ekomaru asks, his arms crossed. A few of his classmates are standing in front of him, all people he'd been personally training: G.onta, K.iyotaka, and M.ondo. He'd noticed the way the three men would stare at him during workouts, but he didn't think this would be the reason why. With a laugh, N.ekomaru grins wide. "Of course, you can! I'll make sure to use all of you as much as I can." N.ekomaru sheds his tanktop, exposing his muscular torso completely.

N.ekomaru wasn't one to turn down free protein. Even if they were people he was training, even if they were very dear friends, he'll never say no to someone asking to become part of his mass. he believes that he can bring people to their greatest potential, and if someone decides that potential is as his food, who is he to turn them down?

He starts with G.onta, having the equally massive man come forward. "So, you're sure about this?" Nekomaru asks. "Because once I start, there's no stopping, and you won't be coming back out."

G.onta blushes but nods softly. "G.onta understand..."

"Good. Then just try to relax and I'll do all the work for you!" Smiling wide, N.ekomaru grabs the other giant by the back of the head and forces him down into his thick, furry pecs. G.onta lets out a muffled yelp, and for a second it seems like he's getting a final show before his demise. But with a bit of effort, N.ekomary wedges G.onta's head between his pecs with a grunt. Then they start flexing, pulling the large man deeper.

The hardest part are the broad shoulders, but N.ekomaru's body has worked down plenty of mean this size, so even that poses no real challenge to him. It might be a tight squeeze for G.onta, but once they're in, he's sinking down a foot t a time with each flex. And as more of his sinks out of sight, N.ekomaru's chest bulges out further, filling up with a man equal in mass behind them. All the while, K.iyotaka and M.ondo watch with dark blushes as N.ekomaru near effortlessly packs G.onta away inside of him.

A final flex pulls in G.onta's lower legs, and he's gone from sight, nothing more than a vaguely person-shaped bulge in the coach's bulky chest. He sighs and rubs over his pecs slowly, feeling them twitch and flex as they get started on grinding down all that protein. Then he looks to the other two and grins again. He folds his arms behind his head, showing off his furry pits to the two of them. "Don't worry, haven't forgotten about you. I'm sure you wanted to be put away together but...sorry! I can't let a good chance like this pass--one meal for each arm!"

M.ondo scoffs and crosses his arms, but K.iyotaka simply nods. "You're the predator here, Nekomaru! It's your decision how our bodies add to you! We know you'll make the right call!" Guiding the other forward, K.iyotaka brings M.ondo to N.ekomaru. Both of them come in close, getting up to the waiting pits. Before either of them can do it themselves, though, N.ekomaru's massive arms come down over their heads and forces them right inside.

"Aaah...there we go!" N.ekomaru lifts his arms up again, seeing his two prey are neck deep in the thick hairs of his armpits. Much like G.onta, all the coach needs to do is start flexing his arms and he's pulling them both deeper. Each mighty flex sucks at least a foot of them inside, and despite their legs kicking a bit once yanked of the ground, there's no resistance from the two as they disappear into N.ekomaru's arms. They bulge out his biceps nicely, forced inside the tight space that is already beginning to flex over them.

"Been a while since I've had a protein boost like this!" N.ekomaru admits with a boisterous laugh. "But I've trained you three well...so I know you'll all look amazing on me! Let's get started, can't let you all go to waste." Leaving the locker room, N.ekomaru heads into the main gym to get started on his exercise.

Inside of him, G.onta, K.iyotaka, and M.ondo find themselves being crushed and squeezed by every flex of N.ekomaru's immense body. The space they reside in is already tight, but it seems to grow a bit smaller each time, packing them tighter and tighter together. It makes them squirm and wiggle a bit out of instruct, trying to fight off the walls that are closing in and looking to grind them down into muscle mass.

N.ekomaru barely pays them much mind, getting himself lost in his workout routine rather quickly. It's easy to forget about the prey filling his body once he begins, and even his dear classmates are the further thing from his mind as he focuses on working his core. Even when the cracks and crunches of bodies being crushed start to rumble from his muscles, and the muffled yelps and cries of prey breaking apart follow, he pays them no mind whatsoever. They're just protein now, just like they wanted.

The first to give in is G.onta, the gentleman's body too big for its own good. The scream he lets out as the walls close in around him and crush his muscular body down into a protein-rich mush actually catches N.ekomaru's attention. He looks down at his pecs, dripping in sweat that some of the lesser parts of the man was turned into, and scratches them lazily. He pulls something out of his chest fur--a pair of glasses, the lens cracked and frame warped. He smiles, tosses them aside, and gets right back to his workout while his pecs pump up with new mass.

K.iyotaka and M.ondo don't make it much father, though. While doing some deadlifts, a few nasty crunches and a muffled shriek come from N.ekomaru's arms. The thud of the weight hitting the ground drowns them out, and he doesn't even realize that he's ended two more lives. He just dries himself off with a towel and goes onto the next part of his workout.

By the time he's done, N.ekomaru is drenched in sweat, anything his body didn't find useful dripping off of him in a cascade. Nothing a shower doesn't fix, though. N.ekomaru stops at a full-length mirror on his way out and grins wide, flexing a bit as he looks himself over. His arms and pecs have gotten much thicker, at least several inches each, and are radiating with new power. The rest of his body shows similar, if not lesser, changes with his thicker legs and ass, and at least a couple inches of height to go with it. "What did I tell you?" N.ekomaru says to his reflection. "I bring out the greatest potential in everyone! And you three were the perfect protein. I'm proud of you all!" Laughing to himself, N.ekomaru would go to get changed and head out for lunch. And already, he'd be forgetting about the three men who gave themselves to his body. No need to think about them when they're just more of him, after all.

[mlmvoreconfessionals]

Since we all can agree we need more Danganronpa in our lives how about Nekomaru, Gozu, and Gonta have a contest to see who can eat the most Prey with a dash of Disposal for good measure?

That sounds like a fun one! The big guys gotta eat big, after all.

It was G.ozu who had made the suggestion first while working out with N.ekomaru and G.onta. "It'll be the easiest way to see which of us is the strongest," the wrestler had said. "After all, aren't you two curious about that? We often seem to find ourselves evenly matched, but something like this could be more decisive!"

G.onta was unsure about the idea, but N.ekomaru was all over it, eager for a chance to push himself to new limits. With some reassurance that G.onta wouldn't be any less gentlemanly for joining in on their contest, the three men were all ready to play. They'd have one hour to eat as many people as they can, and then they'd meet up in the school's courtyard for the final results. Other than each other, anyone was fair game. As soon as it hit the hour mark, the three were off to feast.

G.onta's strategy started off with him trying to ask people to be his food. It work on getting him a couple down, but most were understandably not interested in being digested by someone. He didn't want to ruin the game by failing so badly, though, and after his fifth rejection in a row, G.onta simply lifted the student right off the ground and shoveled them into his jaws as quickly as he could. He felt bad about it, and it was very unbecoming of him, but so would failing to play the game right! He still asks every student he comes across, but the answer doesn't change much. They either go down calmly or fighting it. Either way, G.onta's stomach steadily grows in front of him, his suit hanging open unbuttoned to make room for the expanding organ.

N.ekomaru's approach was much more hands-on. Anyone who couldn't overpower him got sent down the hatch, but he was mostly focusing on those that had a chance of actually fighting back against him. Larger students and athletic ones were being picked off one after another, N.ekomaru's bloating gut doing little to stop him from overpowering every challenge he faced. Even as he was slurping them down and digesting them, he didn't stop being encouraging--as the U.ltimate Coach, he had to be a good sport about it, even if he was winning.

G.ozu's plan was the simplest. He went into the reserve course and simply went to town. Every student he came across was hoisted up into the air and got a chance to watch the maw of his mask open before they dove down the hatch. Picking off the students playing hookey or leaving class for any reason was limiting, but when the wrestler did finally burst into one of the classrooms to clear it out, he found it much more challenging to deal with so many students at once. Nott hat he wasn't up for the challenge, of course, but it was a time-sink having to deal with it.

After an hour had passed, all three men gathered up at the school's courtyard. Their stomachs were all large and churning heavily, some meals still screaming and kicking and others packed away in their bowels as a growing mass of waste. In the end, though, none of the men were able to recall exactly how many people they'd eaten--far more focused on the actual eating than counting--and their stomachs were working too hard to be an accurate judge either. So they'd simply have to wait for the end, their guts steadily shrinking back while it melts and crushes all the meat inside with ease. A few bassy farts signal that it's time for them to leave behind their actual proof of victory.

All three squat down in the courtyard, pants around their ankles as the begin to force out dense logs of crap. N.ekomaru was having the easiest time with it, one long continuous log steadily building under him as he forces everything out, sometimes entire skeletons still being somewhat intact in the dense pile. G.ozu was grunting with the effort, steadily dropping off very large and dense logs of crap that thud into place with each one, his massive feast having lead to a very dense crap. G.onta couldn't even bare to watch, hands covering his blushing face as soft crap steadily piles up behind him. There was definitely nothing gentlemanly about taking a shit like this in such a public place, but there was a part of him who was really enjoying the sensation as well.

In the end, the three men stand side by side as they look over the mountains of crap they left behind. Each one stands tall, with clothes and bones sticking out of the brown muck in all of them. The smell is horrific as well. But what all of them are most focused on is the size.

"...they're the same," N.ekomary finally says with a soft frown. "It looks like the three of us managed to each about the same amount of food in the end."

"Hm..." G.ozu crosses his arms over his chest, tilting his head slightly as his stomach lets out a soft groan. "This might call for a rematch then!"

N.ekomaru grins wide at the idea and G.onta can't help but smile a bit, too. Their stomachs let out a couple deep groans in agreement. Surely they'll be able to create a tie-breaker eventually. And if not...at least they'd eat well.

[mlmvoreconfessionals]

When you feel up for it how about this prompt. Hagakure finds about how people are willing to pay a lot of money to watch some real life vore, and other people will pay to worship the gut he gains. The more he eats, the bigger he gets and the more money he makes!

You know, I do love the idea of this loser of a man becoming very successful pred.

The internet is a weird place with a lot of weird niches. H.agakure kinda got that but he didn't realize the extent of it until he saw some of the stuff people are really willing to pay money for while he was trying to sell fortune readings online. He wasn't getting much in terms of an audience, though. Even less so people that were willing to give him money. One that caught his eye was a request he wasn't expecting: eating one of his fellow U.ltimates. At first, he didn't even want to entertain the idea but...well, one he saw how many zeros were on that offer, all he saw was green.

I.shimaru was his first. It was easy to get the man into his room on at the prospect of helping him study. The hall monitor was busy rambling about how happy he is that H.agakure is taking his studies seriously when the clairvoyant engulfs the other man's head in one bite. He starts gulping and slurping him down, doing his best to get it over fast before his classmate can fight back against him. Before long, he's sitting in front of the camera he set up, slurping down kicking legs. His gut surges forth with his classmates sliding inside, the hairy gut showing off the human-shaped bulge now curled up. A raunchy belch comes from H.agakure as his meal settled in and he licks his lips as he watches his audience grow and the money pour in. There wasn't a hint of hesitation as he digested I.shimaru live on camera, rubbing over his gut as it gurgled loudly, the hall monitor slowly softening up inside. He got a big payload when I.shimaru's screaming finally stopped and the man's gut was now a round, sloshing orb. H.agakure slurps over his lips as he reads through the comments. People really love this stuff. And if that's how much money he's going to be making off of just one guy then...

M.ondo was next, the biker lured in under the guide of H.agakure promising to know where I.shimary is. Which isn't wrong but M.ondo sure wasn't expecting to get his face shoved into H.agakure's newly developed pot belly, or to suddenly be shoveled into his drooling maw. The biker fought a lot harder than I.shimaru did and manages to even knock his predator onto his ass. It doesn't actually do anything to save him, though, and pretty soon he's another bulge curled up in H.agakure's stomach. He screamed and thrashed plenty in there, making the guy slosh around, but all that did was make H.agakure extra gassy for his audience. It didn't do anything to save M.ondo, who'd end up a thick slop after a good few hours of stewing around in there.

H.agakure would continue on like that, bringing guys back to his room ever day or so in order to devour and digest them live on camera for the money his audience is willing to throw around for the show. All the while, his gut gets bigger and rounder with each student he churns into fat. After a couple weeks, he's plowed through the majority of his classmates. Some of the smaller ones, like H.oshi or T.eruteru, melted like butter for him with how fast they churned. Guys like K.aito or G.undam, the later of which is currently churning away in his tank, proved to put up more of a fight. There's only a couple guys left at this point, though, and he's been kind of dreading getting around to him. But his audience is offering big bucks if he eats them both together and well...they haven't steered him wrong yet!

Getting N.ekomaru and G.onta to help out was a lot easier than he though it'd be. Neither of them seemed to mind all too much that H.agakure was about to devour them whole and digest them into more heft on his frame. At this point, everyone else is already hanging off his waistline, and the two big lugs had figured it'd be easier going down willingly. G.onta went first, his body guided along by N.ekomaru as H.agakure greedily scarfs the buff man down. N.ekomaru's hands are pushing G.onta's face down the hatch when H.agakure surges forward and snaps the coach up up to his elbows. The gulping continues as he guzzles down his second course, this time on all on his own.

By the time he's done, his chair is groaning under the weight, and so is H.agakure. His gut is stretched tightly around his two massive meals, barely giving them the room to wiggle inside. He keeps letting loose deep, meaty belches while his churns guts get started on processing all that prime beef. The stream would at least get their longest show yet as the clairvoyant's gut went to town on melting down both bulky men. They'd likely end up regretting their decision by the time they started to really melt alive, but with how tight the gut is and how muffled their voices were, no one could really tell. It'd all end the same for them anyway, the bulges steadily softening up as H.agakure's gut ruthlessly processes them just like every other man he's fed it.

Thanks to their massive size, by the time the two men were done processing, H.agakure easily doubled in the size he'd gained from all his other meals. His gut stuck out a good foot in front of him, soft and wobbling with all that added heft. His chest has gotten softer, too, as did his now thicker limbs and round ass. His face even got rounder from it all, just to show off his gains all over. He belches one last time for the camera and licks his lips. "Well, that's the last of my friends. So if you dudes want to see any more streams, come pay me a visit! I'll eatcha free of charge!" He grins and smacks his gut, making it wobble back and forth as it growls for more.

[mlmvoreconfessionals]

Nekomaru Nidai with disposal

A classic, if you ask me. And you did.

There's nothing that N.ekomaru appreciates more than a good shit. To him, it's a sign of a healthy body working at its best! Double so if that person is a predator like him. Unfortunately, for predators like N.ekomaru, toilets don't really...agree with him. At best, he merely clogs them. At worst...well, he doesn't get along with the janitor, that's for sure. But today is a very big shit day due to this morning's activities so he's taken residence in the janitor's closet now. A bit petty, maybe, but he was explicitly told not to use the toilet if he was certain he'd break it and he has to go somewhere. Especially today. That's why he finds himself squatting over a bucket, his bloated abs gurgling harshly as he lets all hell break loose from his bowels.

He'd spent the last four years training his classmates that asked for it, and as a coach, he's been very happy with how it's gone. But today he wanted to put them through his ultimate test--surviving his stomach. Those who make it out are destined to be the best athletes. Those who don't...are destined to become part of one. It works out either way and N.ekomaru has had no issues with this test yet. He told his classmates what they would be doing, as he values being truthful and upfront with them, and they had all appeared confident--or at least unconcerned--with the plan.

H.oshi had been the first. N.ekomaru had done a lot to work with him and find him that passion for tennis again. Despite his stature, he'd always been muscular, and the diet of tennis players he'd been on helped with that. N.ekomaru had been certain that the short man's core strength would give him what it takes to survive. It...didn't. H.oshi's size had inevitably been his downfall, and he died after a single involuntary flex from N.ekomaru's powerful stomach. Not even a minute in the tank and he'd belched up the man's hat and left his abs flat once more. He was the easiest thing for N.ekomaru to dump out, a single, dense log landing inside the bucket he was squatting over, filling it up in an instant.

The others got a bit more nervous after that, so N.ekomaru went for the one who seemed the most nervous--H.agakure. Normally, N.ekomaru worked with athletes, but he made an exception here when the clairvoyant had expressed interest in getting bigger. The coach knew it was for vain reasons, but he never turned down an offer, and he thought he'd been doing an excellent job with the older man and the diet of admirers he'd been set on. He squirmed and screamed a lot the entire time, and if he'd spent more time trying to hone that body, he could have survived. But he didn't, and N.ekomaru's gut snuffed out his efforts after a couple of clenches. He'd been rather delicious, at least, and the thick logs of shit he'd been reduced to slide out of N.ekomaru's ass with little effort despite all the struggle he'd put up. He'd been a useful protein supplement, at the very least.

His next course was a double meal. M.ondo and I.shimaru had taken interest in doing their regimen together--evidently, there were enough bad apples around the school for them to both share and I.shimaru had been insistent that those they devoured were put to good use on their bodies. Well, N.ekomaru made sure of that, and he had no qualms with devouring the two of them together. He's taken bigger meals, after all. With I.shimaru's strategy and M.ondo's raw strength, N.ekomaru believed that they could easily upset his stomach together and be let out. Unfortunately, I.shimaru folded under the pressure rather quickly--and literally, as a few snaps and crunches ended his life after an unfortunate clench caught him in a bad position. M.ondo went ballistic after that, thrashing around wildly and cursing, but the biker's thoughtless struggles did nothing to hamper N.ekomaru's powerful stomach. The coach considered it a mercy when he flexed his stomach on purpose to kill off M.ondo. The two of them came out together, their bodies indistinguishable from each other in the dense logs they creature. N.ekomaru hopes there's at least some solace for them in that fate.

Despite four deaths before him, K.aito seemed completely unphased and overly confident, as usual. The astronaut thought that a predator's diet was exactly what he needed to push himself past his physical plateauing, and N.ekomaru agreed. A steady diet of healthy, lean men had done wonders for K.aito's physique. N.ekomaru appreciated the confidence, at least, happy to see someone ready to take on a challenge like this head-on--hell, K.aito even shoved himself right into the coach's jaws while he was laughing. But...that confidence didn't translate into survival. He did the best by far, and even worked out a couple belches and some deep groans from N.ekomaru's stomach. The coach thought he'd actually survive, but a flex caught K.aito's leg mid-kick and the pained howls that followed the wet crunching told him that fate had changed. K.aito refused to give up, though, and N.ekomaru appreciated the effort. He let the astronaut squirm for as long as he could, but losing that leg spelled his death, and it was only a few flexes and crunches later that he was gone. He was a fighter until the end, though, as pushing out the logs he'd been reduced to took some effort and a few grunts on N.ekomaru's part. But he passed all the same.

That just left G.onta. Not much of an athlete, no, but he's the only man in their class that can rival N.ekomaru in size and strength. If anything, G.onta might be even stronger than N.ekomaru. He just needed a guiding hand to hone that strength and power. G.onta had been on a raw protein diet, eating only other athletes and people of that stature. It did wonders for the entomologist's body, and N.ekomaru was excited to put it to the test, even if G.onta seemed nervous when staring into those drooling jaws that five others failed to make it back out of. He put up a real struggle going down which excited N.ekomaru even more. Hell, G.onta was the only one of the bunch to actually make the coach's stomach groan from discomfort! If he had lasted just a few more seconds, he could have made it out as N.ekomaru's greatest achievement. But when those stomach walls clenched down on all sides to bring G.onta back up, he panicked and tried to squirm. N.ekomaru's body reacted accordingly, and with some grisly snaps and a scream cut short, G.onta died. The only thing that came up was his glasses, broken and twisted, in a roaring belch. He was easily N.ekomaru's biggest dump to date, so much so that the shit G.onta made alone was enough to smother the other five and triple the size of the already immense pile.

N.ekomaru grunts as he feels his last meal's skull squeeze out from between his cheeks and he finally felt relief. He stands up straight and looks back at the pile. The smell is horrendous, as it always is, but he's long gotten used to his own stink. The pile comes up to his chest, definitely a new record for him, at least based on the number of people he ate. He was never happy about so many promising athletes dying like this, but if nothing else, the coach knew he'd be carrying on their dreams and wishes with him, just like all others who failed his ultimate test. He'd spent the entire day working out after killing the last of them, and his body has become even bigger and stronger to show for it. The coach hopes that, if nothing else, puts them at peace. Giving a few moments of silence to the stinking pile of ex-athlete, he leaves the closet. The janitor is going to have a hell of a time cleaning that up, but if he makes a fuss, N.ekomaru doesn't mind some dessert.

[mlmvoreconfessionals]

Could you maybe do ryoma hoshi mass vore with wg and disposal?

Absolutely!

H.oshi figured that there'd be some reception to him getting back into tennis. Being an U.ltimate, people like him just naturally have a fanbase. He just...wasn't expecting the kind of turnout he got. Or the way his fans responded after his return games.

"You really want me to eat...all of you?" H.oshi isn't above eating people, that's for sure. But it's usually just one or two at a time. This is...a lot more. A small crowd of his fans are in the locker room right now, all eager about their intentions with the short man. "You sure about that? You'll all die and I won't let you back out if you change your minds. This won't be pretty." His warnings don't seem to do anything to dissuade the crowd and he lets out a sigh before shaking off his jacket. "Alright then..."

H.oshi didn't even have to do it himself. As soon as he agreed, his fans surround him and a pair of arms shove into his jaws. He takes it in stride, though, steadily gulping the first of the men down with little problem. His gut bloats out in front of him, his short stature making it so his belly basically balloons out to be about his size after one meal. That's why he tends not to eat a lot at once. But just as he finished off the first meal, the second was shoveling themselves down his gullet.

The excited chatter of the crowd of fans slowly die down the more of them disappear, being replaced with thick gulps and wet churns of a steadily increasing gut. H.oshi lets out a groan as the seventh or eighth man gets slurped down. He's already losing count and it feels like the food has no end. He probably shouldn't have done this, but all he can do is keep eating. He just barely realizes that K.aito is one of the men shoveling themselves into his jaws, but by the time he does, he's slurping up the astronaut's legs and it's no longer his problem.

In the end, H.oshi finds himself to be rather exhausted. He lost track of how many men he just ate, but it was definitely too many. His guts are stretched tight over the mass of meat, gurgling and churning with intensity as it tries to accommodate all of the food inside. A deep belch rumbles out of him followed by more panting. This is going to take a while...and he has no choice but to sit there and let it. "Hope you're all...OOOOOooouuUUURRRRrrpp! Guh...happy with yourselves. Things are going to get messy now..."

H.oshi would be stuck like that for a while, his guts churning and groaning wetly as it processes all of the meat it was fed. The tennis pro can't imagine it's a pretty sight in there, but by the time he starts to hear the sounds of second thoughts from his various prey, it's far too late for any of them to come back out the way they went in. He did warn them that this was a one-way trip, so the closest thing they'd get to sympathy is a nasty belch and a few rubs over the tank.

A few hours later and it seems the last of the voices have gone silent. H.oshi's stomach is getting rounder and softer. He gives a bulge of someone's head an experimental push and his hand sink right in with a few noisy bubbling sounds all that comes from it. Long dead, all of them, but even so, he's stuck for the rest of the digestive process while the meat softens and melts into the sludge to pump through his system.

H.oshi's clothes don't survive that process any better than his fans did. As his body steadily pumps them deeper, he grows softer all around. His thighs and ass get a lot more weight to them, enough to rip through his pants pretty easily. His shirt had been ridden up on his massive stomach, but after a while, his fatter arms and chest end up just tearing it from his body. The weight doesn't do much to help his baby face, either, as it just gets rounder and softer. But the real damage is to his gut. As he feels the last few churn and pops of his belly finishing off the feast, it sticks out in front of him by several inches and hangs down to his knees. It molds to his hands with ease and jiggles around at the slightest movement. Needless to say, he's gotten fat, and it really shows with his smaller stature. H.oshi pulls his hat down over his eyes with a grumble, embarrassed by his own physique. That embarrassment doesn't get much better when his bowels rumble and he ends up ripping a deep fart in the locker room. Sitting around digesting all that meat gave his body more than enough time to pack it into his bowels, and it's done waiting now.

Grumbling a bit, H.oshi squats down where he's standing. He grunts and pushes, and before long, a thick log of shit nearly as wide as his old figure stretches out his ass and begins to pile up onto the floor. It snakes out of him slowly, making him work for relief. It's al incredible dense, too, packed tightly with bones sticking out all over the brown waste and scraps of clothes giving it the occasional color. The smell is horrible, too, given how long the pile spent baking in the tennis pro's body. By the time he's done, he's left something easily as tall as himself, some several hundred pounds of human meat reduced to several hundred pounds of human shit.

H.oshi takes a few deep breaths through his mouth, but even that still stings a bit with the stench. He grabs his jacket but it's not going to do much to fit him. the best he can manage it tying it over his waist to cover himself up, although his stomach does that just fine on its own. It's going to take him ages to work off all this new fat. And if his fans were that eager to be his food, he imagines playing more games will just attract more of them. He's going to get stuck in a cycle pretty fast at this rate.

"Guess I still got a ways to go..." Pulling his hat down over his eyes again, H.oshi waddles out of the locker room. Time to make a shameful walk to the clothes store...

[mlmvoreconfessionals]

Since you do Danganronpa, how's about some prompts for Teruteru and Ryoma as a duo? Shorties gotta stick together, y'know. Or eat eachother, depends on how that goes

I think they can definitely be an interesting pair to have together. I mean I'm pretty sure H.oshi would really dislike T.eruteru but that's fiiiine.

H.oshi can't stop himself from shoveling more food into his jaws. His stomach is already bloated heavily, big enough to sit on the floor despite the chair he's occupying. He can't even say he's hungry, really. The problem is that he can't get enough. Every taste of his meals makes him drool like crazy and he feels this incessant need to just shovel more and more into his maw. Even if his food is begging him to stop, even if they're familiar faces of the people he's come to know at this school, he has to keep eating. The only saving grace, if it can be considered that, is that he got T.eruteru stuck in his own trap. The chef had clearly planned to simply let H.oshi stuff his face like a pig on all the food that he'd prepared. But the tennis player wasn't having it, and before he'd completely lost control of his ability to resist, he managed to shove someone's head into T.eruteru's jaws. Whatever he'd done to make these meals so irresistible, even the chef wasn't immune to it, and once he'd devoured his first, he was onto the second. So now they sat at opposite sides of the large table T.eruteru had prepared, their stomach slowly expanding as they gulp and slurp down their classmates one after another. None of them seem thrilled with the idea of becoming food, but T.eruteru has worked with plenty of live meals, and none of them are able to get out of their restraints before one of the two hungry predators have devoured them. With a few more wet gulps and slurps, H.oshi and T.eruteru have finished off the last of their feast, and a couple slimy belches roar out of them. They're beached by their own engorged stomachs, bulges shifting and moving around of their friends and classmates struggling inside the cramped space of their guts. H.oshi breathes heavily, slowly wiping some drool from his chin on the back of his arm. "D-Dammit...how do I still want more..?" There's a chuckle from the other side of the table, drawing his attention to T.eruteru, who seems just as exhausted after the efforts of eating. "I told you that no one can resist my delectable creations," the chef purrs with a smile. "E-Even I can't, it seems." He pats his stomach gently, getting a harsh groan in response that makes him belch again. "But that's quite alright! Once I've got them filling out all the right places, I can get started on the second course. If you're still hungry for more~" T.eruteru chuckles while H.oshi pulls his hat down over his eyes. As much as he doesn't want to admit it...just the mention of having more is making H.oshi drool. He still has a ways to go...

H.oshi hiccups and puts a hand to his mouth. He's feeling...bloated. Well, not just feeling it, he is bloated. Somehow he got pulled into being a taste tester for T.eruteru--something about him not wanting to spoil a surprise for his other classmates. H.oshi wasn't much of an eater but he figured the fastest way out was to just have a bite or two. It...had been the plan at least. But now the kitchen is filled with empty pots and plates licked clean, not a bit of food left. H.oshi barely even remembered eating it all, but his stomach is hanging out in front of him, softer than before, and he knows from the way it aches that he had ever last bite. "What...What did you do to that food..?" H.oshi groans softly. He hiccups again and his stomach gurgles loudly while he tries to rub it. "Just a new recipe I'm trying," T.eruteru reassures, coming from behind H.oshi to rub over his stomach. "I'm trying to find ways to make my food extra dense in calories. I can see that it was a success, too!" He grips H.oshi's stomach and shakes it back and forth, making it slosh and H.oshi groan. "Now there's just the matter of dessert." H.oshi can't believe what he's hearing. After all that, he's expected to have dessert? "I can't...I had too much already," the tennis player says. T.eruteru just chuckles again. "Oh, not for yo, silly. For me~" H.oshi isn't sure what the chef means. He looks over his shoulder to ask and finds himself staring into a pair of drooling jaws. His eyes wide and everything goes dark as T.eruteru engulfs his head. The chef hums happily, gripping tighter onto H.oshi's stomach and he hoists the tennis player into the air. All that food and weight gain made H.oshi sluggish and sick, so he's unable to resist at all as T.eruteru begins to gulp him down. The chef is sure to taste over every bit of flesh his tongue can reach, especially giving attention to that wonderfully plump belly. Oh yes, everything has worked perfectly, he's decided. H.oshi's feet kick weakly in the air as he sinks down, but they soon disappear into the chef's maw with a few short gulps. T.eruteru's shirt pops open as his portly belly expands suddenly, sloshing and bouncing with such a heavy meal dropping in. He lets out a thick belch, sending H.oshi's hat flying onto the floor, and he gives his stomach a few pats while licking his lips. "Now that's a meal worth all the prep~ Better get started on the next course. I have so many options to pick from~" Eager to begin, T.eruteru drapes an apron over his gut and starts working, letting H.oshi stew the entire time. By the time the next course has arrived to the kitchen, there'll be little left but some extra plushness to T.eruteru's figure to remind him of his first course. Just what any good chef should want.

"C'mon now, a little flirting never hurt anyone~" T.eruteru assures with a sly grin. "Besides...you know what they say about short guys, don't you? They make up for their height in...different ways~" The chef laughs to himself while H.oshi grumbles. He'd just been trying to get a bit of lunch but of course he ran into someone like this. And he just doesn't know how to take 'no' for an answer, either. H.oshi is already sick of the guy's presence but nothing seems to shake him. Not to mention, H.oshi's stomach won't stop growling, and it's starting to annoy him just as much as T.eruteru. Unfortunately, the chef can hear the hungry growls as well. "Oh, are you getting hungry?" T.eruteru asks. "I'll be more than happy to make something special for you...and give you some meat to suck on in the meantime~" That was the last straw. H.oshi turns to face T.eruteru, and despite being shorter, made himself seem very big with how imposing he was. T.eruteru holds his hands up. "A-Ah, no need for such a scary face, it was just a little joke~ Unless...you'd really like to--" H.oshi grabs T.eruteru by the shoulders, opens wide, and engulfs his head. He keeps going without thinking, gulping and slurping to send the chef down, all while T.eruteru squeals and thrashes around. He's bigger, both being taller and more portly than H.oshi, but neither seems to help him at all as he's devoured whole. All he can do is flail around uselessly as he dives deeper and deeper down the tennis player's gullet. As H.oshi slurps down the man's legs, there's a tear as his shirt rips open and his stuffed stomach spills out in front of him. T.eruteru drops in thrashing, making his gut bounce and slosh around and working out a rather nasty belch from H.oshi. He thumps his chest a few times and coughs, soon spitting up an apron that came loose in his gullet. "There...that solves both of my problems," H.oshi says, giving his stomach a few pats. T.eruteru is yelling something in his gut, but he can't understand it. Not that he wants to anyway. He's sick of listening to the chef. The only noises he'll be making in the new future are harsh gurgles and churns anyway. Though...as he walks off, H.oshi realizes that he's going to have to do a lot of work to burn off such a fatty meal. T.eruteru is going to fill him out in the most embarrassing way...even as food he can be annoying.

[mlmvoreconfessionals]

Hey can you do some vore prompts on Gozu from the DR3 anime.

Yes! I love him, he’s great.

The crowd is roaring like crazy and G.ozu roars with them, standing proud with his arms flexing with one foot on the rope of the ring. His stomach is stretched out before him, the shape of another man curled up distinctly inside. The wrestler made sure that the entire crowd was fired off as he was claimed the victor and walked out of the ring to the locker room in the back. His meal was starting to shift more inside as G.ozu took a seat on the bench and had a big swig of water from his bottle. "H-Hey, are you going to let me out of here soon?" the wrestler in his gut asks, pushing out a bit. "I can't hear the crowd anymore?" G.ozu looks down at his stomach, the red eyes of his mask shining. "Let you out? No, I'm afraid that's not how this match ends! I'm afraid you'll be retiring now." He takes another swig of water as his meal begins to grow more active in his stomach. "If you moved like that in the ring, maybe you wouldn't be where you are! Now then, try not to last longer than my shower. I'll be meeting fans after this and I'd like you to have finished by then!" The wrestler fetches a towel and lets out a roaring belch as he walks to the showers. G.ozu always did hate wasting potential...but he loves being a career-ender, too.

G.ozu had tried being a teacher for Hope's Peak, for a bit of time. Given how full of energy and intense he can be, he was working with the third-years that were about to graduate. He did well with...most of them. His last year teaching had an incident--rumors spreading about how no one has ever seen the wrestler's face lead to the students of his class coming together to try and solve it. It took them all year, but during their last day of class, two of them got the jump on the wrestler and was able to unmask him for the entire class to see. That class never made it to graduation. The belch rang out so loud through the school that it brought the headmaster himself in to see what caused it, just to find the room a mess with over-turned desks and chairs and belongings strewn around. G.ozu was in the center of it all, his stomach large them himself stretched around each student from his class. He didn't return to teach the next year and based on the paparazzi shots, he had to take some time off from wrestling as well to...slim back down. At least, that's how the new rumor goes. People who try to prove it still disappear to this day.

The only thing G.ozu might love more than actually wrestling is getting to see his fans after. It always feels so good to see them so excited and happy. But the man always gets this little...itch, as it were. And with so many fans he manages to sneak a few of them through. During autographs, he'd mark a few shirts or posters with a little note to come meet him in private his room in the back. It works, as it always does, and he has about five men with him, all incredibly excited to find out why they've been brought back to the wrestler's private room. And that answer is..."Additional protein, of course!" the wrestler says. "Fans always make the best! Thank you all for your contribution!" Before any of them can ask further questions, two guys are hoisted right off the ground and shoved face-first into G.ozu's armpits. They kicked and squirmed a little bit but the man's powerful muscles were effortlessly sucking them deeper with each flex of his arms. The other three try to fun, but another is pulled backward with a scream and wedged between the man's thick pecs, which begin to work him down just as easily as his arms were. The last two fumbled with the door, trying to get out at the same time, perfect for G.ozu's jaws to clamp down over their heads together so he could start gulping them down. It took less than five minutes before the wrestler has sat down again, his stomach, chest, and arms bloated with squirmy meals. He lets out a thick belch as they start to flex and grind down on the men inside. "Thanks again for everything, your loyalty means the world to me." He gives his stomach a few dull pats, belching up a hat with his face on it.

[mlmvoreconfessionals]

K.iyotaka pred prompts?

Oh yeah, he's my other favorite guy in that class next to M.ondo!

I.shimaru is the last person anyone would expect to wind up in detention, even if it was his third year. But of course, he wasn't actually in detention--no, today, he is the detention. The perfect is sitting at the teacher's desk, mostly due to the fact that his stomach is heavily engorged, hanging out from his unbuttoned shirt and resting heavily in his lap. He had done his typical sweep of the school between classes and sent any and all troublemakers to detention. What he maybe failed to explain to them is, as fellow third-years, I.shimaru is using more extreme measures to make sure they stop causing such trouble. After all, no student so close to graduation should still be causing issues in their school life. No, they're simply no good for graduation, not from H.ope's Peak Academy. The perfect's stomach is gurgling and churning harshly already. His meals seemed to finally understand the serious danger they were in and began moving around more intensely, but by then, it was far too late for them to do anything to change their fates. A particularly wet gurgling rumbles from his gut and I.shimaru's ends up letting out a sudden, wet belch. His face immediately runs pink despite no one around to hear such a shameful act--well, no one who would be in the position to tell about it. "Ugh...to think I'd be making such improper sounds during after hours at school..." Even so, he is not backing out of this decision. His stomach continues to churn with ferocity, even as his prey struggle and yell inside. He had an hour to process them. He's hoping he can manage that. If not...perhaps he'll have his bro M.ondo come by next time! He knows the biker will be able to aid him in his goals. Of course, it'll be completely professional--all for the good of their remaining days at school.

I.shimaru winces as he feels a rather harsh kick deep in his guts. "Bro, stop struggling so much! You offered to help me study for our finals--graduation is riding on this! I can't focus if you move like that!" His guts are bloated out, just barely stuffed under the desk with the bulge of M.ondo forced to curl up behind his usually trim stomach. He had asked the biker to aid him in his studies. Usually, it was the other way around, but his bro had been more than happy to accept and come by the perfect's dorm room. Of course, I.shimaru might have failed to mention is he intended to use M.ondo as a much-needed energy boost to get through a long night of studying. I.shimaru normally would have gone for someone else like he usually did for studying sessions like this but he's come to realize he's already worn through all students who could be useful for a night of studying. G.onta, N.ekomaru, K.aito, G.undam--all the most nutritious of his fellow classmates have had their trip through his digestive system to keep him away and focused for a long night of studies. So, even if a bit regrettably, he had turned to M.ondo as tonight's source of energy. It was for the sake of his graduation, after all. He knows M.ondo would understand under any other circumstance! The man in question kicks hard again, forcing a rather loud belch out of I.shimaru. Something comes up and he had to turn his head to the side to spit out the coat the biker normally wore, now covered in a thick slime. "Guh...bro, just settle down..." He knows once his stomach really gets to work on M.ondo, it'll be smooth sailing, but maybe he should have taken his bro's feistiness in mind before enacting this plan. Oh well...

A dark blush covered I.shimaru's cheeks as rough hands rub along his groaning guts. The students inside had stopped moving not too long ago, also due to the aid of the rubs he was receiving. "Bro...are you sure this was the right thing to do?" Sure, I.shimaru found that other men were a far more nutritious meal than what he could make in a kitchen--and proper nutrition is important for a balanced life!--but...he still feels like meals like this should be a bit more carefully picked. Eating other behaved students doesn't seem like such a good pick to him. But...his bro had been the one to help him with this meal. "Of course, I'm sure!" M.ondo says, his hands pushing down on the softening stomach. "Look, you're already getting through them alright. ain'tcha? So chill out, bro." I.shimaru had to admit...it did feel rather nice. Having M.ondo feed him and then rub over his stomach through the digestive process made for very steady and efficient processing..a-also it felt rather nice. The biker's hands sink into his stomach further and work out a deep belch from I.shimaru, only making his cheeks blush darker. How embarrassing to make such a rude sound in front of his bro! Although...with the way M.ondo was laughing, and that smile on his face...maybe it wasn't so shameful after all. "Please try not to do that again," I.shimaru sighs gently. Even if he would have chosen other students to consume...seeing his bro so happy made him happy, so this was still worth it.

[mlmvoreconfessionals]

I beg u, more Mondo vore

With disposal pretty please

No one really makes content of the guys I like from D.R so I'm always up to write more!

"You sure there isn't an easier way around this?" Mondo asks, rubbing the back of his head. It's not like he had an issue with working out or exercising--he didn't gain the muscle he had now on nothing. But being told he'd going to have to do a daily, intense regimen if he wanted to gain some massive bulk for his future as a carpenter...well, it just sounded annoying.

"Of course, there's no other way!" N.ekomaru booms out. "Now pay attention so I can help you to your full potential!" Coming to the coach seemed like the only thing to do for M.ondo but now he's starting to think this was a bad idea. The guy was too loud and intense, even for him, and he wasn't one to listen to authority without complaint.

Not to mention, the workout he was being put through was working up one hell of an appetite. And an idea came to him as his abs let out a low growl while he looked over the sweating coach with him. After nearly an hour of working out with no ending in sight, he was definitely starting to find his patience wearing thin. He knows there has to be an easier solution than this.

N.ekomaru had at least been working out alongside him, but he's still sick of this. Watching the coach do push-ups, slick in sweat, while M.ondo's gut was groaning hungrily...made him come up with an idea to gain the strength he wants in no time at all. "...I just need a good hunk of protein."

"Protein would be good for your workouts!" N.ekomaru agrees, not realizing what the biker meant. As he gets back up, he's grabbed rather suddenly and both of his hands and shoveled right into M.ondo's drooling maw. The coach's eyes widen and lock with the biker's hungry ones just as his thick arms start getting gulps and slurped down. He tries to fight back or yell for help, but despite his massive size and strength, it doesn't seem like he was stronger than the tight grip of the predator's gullet.

Once his head slides into M.ondo's maw, the coach's loud voice was too muffled to be heard by anyone else and his fate as food was sealed. The only real sound now was the wet, slimy gulps of M.ondo's working his way down his meal's muscular body. His jaws stretched effortlessly over the man's massive pecs and thick abs. While he worked on that, he made sure to drag his kicking meal back into the locker room for some better privacy.

The biker sits back on the bench and, now working up to the coach's ass, is able to hoist his legs up by the ankles and shovel them down. His gut bulges out quickly as it fills with all that beef, punctuated by a final wet gulp as he sends the man's kicking feet down the hatch. A heavy sigh escapes M.ondo with that, soon followed by a crass belch as N.ekomaru was forced to settle in his gut. "Aaaah...that's more like it. Good ol' protein is all I need!" He smirks and smacks his gut.

As feisty as he is, though, N.ekomaru wasn't going down without a fight. M.ondo's gut bounces and sloshes and bulges out as the coach thrashes around with all his might inside. It made the biker incredibly gassy, too, constantly belching, each one getting louder and deeper as his meal worked out some good gas. After only twenty minutes or so, M.ondo thumps his chest and finally lets out a belch that rattles the lockers around him. His gut was too tight by then and N.ekomaru's angry roar of defiance is snuffed out with some grueling crunches and snaps as he's ground down into a thick chyme.

"Finally..." M.ondo lets out a soft burp as he rubs over his gut, now much rounder and at a half the size it had been. He just had to relax and let his body do its job, pumping all that sludge through his bowels. He can definitely feel his body growing as he absorbs a good amount of mass from his meal. But a lot of it was chugging straight down and growing dense.

After a couple of hours, M.ondo has taken refuge in a shower, squatting down and straining as he tries to force to coach back out. "C'mon, you were bitching so much about it before. Just...get...out...!" He finally feels the first dense log spread his ass and thud to the ground under him, causing a steady stream of heavy shit to pile up under him. It smelled awful and the bones packed in the logs only made things a bit more awkward to dump out.

He finally finished after nearly twenty minutes of effort, going from squatting to just bending over as the pile winds up nearly waist height. He glances over his shoulder, seeing the skull gazing back at him near the top of the pile, and M.ondo can't help but smirk at the sight. "No easy way to do it, eh? Guess I showed you." He stands up straight with a stretch and goes to a mirror in the bathroom to check himself out.

He's nearly as thick as Nekomaru used to be, his arms and chest swelling with muscle and strength now. He flexes for himself and grins wolfishly. That's more like it! He heard the locker room door open while he was checking himself out and his stomach let out a deep growl. It wouldn't hurt to get a bit bigger, would it..?

[mlmvoreconfessionals]

More pred Korekiyo would be a delight ❤️❤️

I would like to write more for him. He deserves it.

"Are you sure you want this?" K.orekiyo only asked it once, his hands delicately holding the end of the rope that connected to the man before him. "The safety rope is secure...but there's no promise it'll save you." He receives a nod in return and lets out a soft hum. "Okay then. Well, just know that I skipped lunch for this, so...don't be surprised if you aren't coming out. Now then." He jerks hard on the rope suddenly, jerking his prey forward. His eyes shine with something mischievous as his maw yawns open before the man. With another tug of the rope, it's over the man's head, and the anthropologist is taking wet, heavy gulps to start taking him down the hatch. K.orekiyo worked meticulously but quick, taking heavy gulps and flicking his head back with each one to make his way down the man's body. His stomach fills out with a gurgle, popping a few buttons off of his shirt as it ends up settling in his lap with an entire human curling up inside. His jaws gently close over the twitching feet, sending them down to let his meal settle fully in his stomach. The end of a rope hung from his lips, the one safety mechanism left to save the life of the human inside. A heavy belch escapes K.orekiyo as he settles his arms on top of the bulge in his stomach. He lets out a soft hum as he studies the shifting bulges stretching out his stomach. "Well, you were quite appetizing. Let's hope that rope is as durable as you said..." Or that he even wants to pull on it when the time comes. After all, he's the one completely in control here. The fate of this man...of this meal is entirely his decision.

"Did you know that people swallow seven spiders in their sleep per year?" O.uma asks with a long grin. He hadn't been invited to G.onta and K.orekiyo's outing but when did that ever seem to stop him? "That's just a myth," K.orekiyo corrects, though it seems like G.onta already seems upset by the news. "Oh yeah? I totally saw a spider heading into your room last night, K.iyo. And it never came out~" The leader snickers into his hand as that only seems to upset G.onta further. K.orekiyo sighs and shakes his head. "O.uma, stopping trying to--ghhlk!" The anthropologist is cut off by G.onta suddenly shoving his hand right into the man's open mouth, shoving it down his gullet. "No worry, G.onta save spider friend!" the gentleman demands, pushing himself up to his elbow...then his shoulder. K.orekiyo can feel the man's hand pushing into his stomach and moving around. The anthropologist lets out a muffled groan, his stomach grumbling at the taste of meat it's been given. He wants more. With a soft grunt, K.orekiyo pushes down on the back of G.onta's head, forcing it into his widening jaws. Thick gulps ring out as the thinner man steadily works his meal down the hatch. Even G.onta's impressive muscles and stature don't seem to do anything to slow his descent down his classmate's gullet. He slurps up kicking feet, sending the last of his friend down with a final gulp. "Guh...dammit..." A harsh belch escapes him, his stomach bloated out heavily in his lap with G.onta's curled up form. "You...did that on purpose..." the man huffs, glaring at the grinning O.uma. He'd get up and chase the little brat away but he's a bit weighed down by the sheer mass of his meal. He can already feel G.onta shifting around inside as the realization of his actions hit him--but it's too late. All K.orekiyo can do now is sit there and let his stomach do its job while he plans on how to catch O.uma after the fact.

K.orekiyo lets out a soft sigh as his stomach grumbles demandingly once again. His appetite really hasn't calmed down--if anything, it's getting worse. His once slim figure has bloated out into something round and soft, forcing all of his clothes to be too tight on his form. He doesn't even bother trying to button up his uniform anymore, and even then, it's becoming tighter on his frame with each passing meal. But he has no regrets over what he's done. His friends simply look marvelous filling out his form. They'd all tasted amazing, squirming and fighting for their lives against the merciless onslaught of his stomach. None had survived it, of course, but K.orekiyo enjoyed the entire thing nonetheless. Once he'd finished picking off his classmates, he'd turned on others, sending any man he can get his hands on down the hatch to sate his ever-growing hunger. Each meal was completely different and the anthropologist couldn't help but find the immense beauty in each and every one. Some begged, some cursed, some fought, some shivered and cried, and some even accepted their fate as food with serenity. And each one...each one was now just additional padding on the man's frame. But even now, he's hungry, his body desperate for more people to take and digest away. He's picked off his classmates and his fellow upperclassmen...so it seems he has no choice but to start branching out. Giving his stomach a final rub as it whined for food, he got to his feet and walked out of his room, already eager to pack away a few men of his choosing. He really wasn't picky--anyone will do. It all ends the same for him.

[mlmvoreconfessionals]

Please more Mondo prompts

More M.ondo prompts!

The biker lazily picks at his teeth as his guts let out a noisy groan. “Fuck, this is gonna to take forever to work off,” he grumbles to himself. His belly shakes a bit as he says so, his meal panicking at the explicit mention of his fate. M.ondo just lets loose a raunchy belch, thumping his chest a few times. He gets this crap all the time. Some overconfident punk thinks he’s bigger and tougher than the leader of the biggest biker gang in the country and shoots his shot, just to get his ass beat in. And just to make sure his point gets across, M.ondo makes sure there’s no rematch. Fights always work up an appetite for him anyway, and he deserves a prize for his victory. So that’s how his latest challenger got to learn the inside of his stomach looks like. The message never gets across, though, because he always has to deal with another punk trying again. But at least it’s never the same idiot. Some lessons are only learned once. M.ondo grunts and belches again, his stomach compacting down with a wet churning sound as it quickly snuffs out his prey. “Some man you were. Guess I gotta hit the gym now.”

Ever since his competition with his bro, M.ondo has been using the sauna much more often. It’s actually pretty relaxing when he’s not using it as a chance to compete with people. He’s also been using it as a chance to get in a quick meal and digest it fast since the heat helps him so much. It’s gotten to the point that the biker can’t even sit in the sauna without his stomach grumbling noisily for some live meat to fill it. Today, though, things didn’t seem to work out for him. No one had come by for the sauna and he was beginning to wonder if maybe he ate everyone who uses it already. He was about to give up on it when the door opened. He didn’t even think about it--he pounced on the guy who came in and engulfed his head. His tongue against the guy’s face muffled the cries he made and M.ondo started to greedy gulp and slurp him down, eager to fill his stomach and enjoy the sauna. He strips the towel away as he got to the waist, taking just a moment to taste over the cock on his tongue before he gulped and started slurping up those kicking legs. Only his bro got to have any action with him. He say back down on the bench, his bloated gut resting comfortably in his lap as he gulps down the feet and lets loose a slimy belch. “Fuck, that hit the spot...” He leans back, rubbing over his stomach as it churns and rumbles loudly over his wiggling meal. He couldn’t even hear the guy’s voice over his stomach, and in ten minutes flat, all that struggling came to an end with a rather raunchy belch. By the half hour mark, he’d melted down most of his meal and was leaving the sauna, using the guy’s towel to rub over his small paunch. As he was going to get in the shower, though, he noticed the locker the guy must have been using was left open. His expression dropped when he recognized I.shimaru’s uniform nearly folded up inside. He looks down at his gut as it lets out a few small bubbles, polishing off the sludge inside. “...aw shit.”

M.ondo was never one to take a bet lying down. A real man would go in head first and win! That’s why when several of the guys tried to bet that he couldn’t beat them in a sparring match, he knew he had to prove their asses wrong! But he’s never been one to give a guy a second chance to beat him. It didn’t take long for him to wipe the floor with everyone, his history with street fights giving him all the edge he needed to win. And then the feast began. Just to make sure people knew that he had won, he wanted to add them to his muscle mass. So that’s how the first guy ended up with his face deep in M.ondo’s pecs, while the second and third were under his coat, faces shoved into his armpits, all three men easily being sucked deeper into the biker to fuel his body and make him bigger. The other four tried their best to get away, not wanting to end up as muscle over some dumb bet that. But they were too beat up from M.ondo to make it far. Two more would find themselves being stuffed into his pits to join the guys already being ground down by his biceps, while the last two were going right into his chest together. By the time M.ondo was done, the act of eating and digesting them all was making him sweat more than the fight ever did. Tenderizing them made it far too easy to break them down, though, and he could already feel himself getting stronger and thicker off of their loss. If anyone wanted to know where they’d gone, he’d be more than happy to show it off for them.

[mlmvoreconfessionals]

can we get some more monokuma prompts?

Sure! I love that evil bear.

"This is...ulp...what happens...glp...when you try...glk...to defy me! Bwwrp!" M.onokuma finished guzzling down the last of K.aito in front of the rest of his class, the bear's black and white belly now grossly enlarged and moving around as the astronaut tried to fight his way out from inside. Another noxious belch rumbles out of the bear's maw and he pats his gut a few times. "Whoo! What a meal. Now, if anyone else would like to break the rules, don't worry, I have plenty of room left." Monokuma slurps over his lips, grinning wide as he watches the remaining students shuffle back in worry. These new upgrades were absolutely the right call. He can feel every shift of the man in his guts as he struggles around for some desperate hope of survival. And even better, he can feel his stomach working hard to break down all of that live, wiggling meat for him. He hefts up his gut with a pleased groan and another slimy belch. One of K.aito's slippers flies from his jaws that time, hitting the ground with a splat. "Well! I'll be off processing this punishment. And if anyone wants to join him, just break the rules!" M.onokuma cackles as he turns and waddles off, taking the squirming and yelling K.aito with him. The next time anyone would ever see their friend, it'd be as more padding on the bear's hips. And he was going to make sure they can't possibly forget that.

"Of course, a bear's main diet is human!" M.onokuma explains with a big grin. "That's why this motive is...getting eaten by a hungry bear! And we're starting...now!" The bear leaps at the first person he could get to without warning. Despite his size, M.onokuma was shockingly strong, and he ends up getting I.shimaru in his grasp. His jaws snap open, showing off his sharp teeth and the dark gullet beyond. He engulfs the perfect's head and starts to messily guzzle him down in front of everyone else. No matter how much he wiggled and squirmed, M.onokuma wasn't stopping, and soon enough his jaws are snapping shut behind kicking feet as he sends the last of the man down. He belches wetly and pats his gut. "Oooh, that's good. Yeah, yeah, that's some real food...you better get to it and start offing each other! I'm prepping for hibernation and I'm gonna need a loooot more than this." He lifts his gut and lets it drop, sloshing around the wiggling man inside with another thick belch. "And don't think you can outrun a bear. We are very good hunters." He flashes a toothy grin as he watches the other contestants immediately disperse. Oh, he's loving this motive already. He really can't wait to have more. Maybe he'll just keep this motive going...

"Look, if you all don't wanna kill, fine! But I need some compensation so," the bear points into his open jaws, "you gotta get in there. That's the only way to graduate now." G.onta seemed hesitant staring down the much smaller bear, but it seems like he's not being given a choice. Plus, if it's not him, M.onokuma was going to just go pick on someone else. So the gentleman just let out a nervous sigh and leans down to push his face into the bear's maw. They were in the privacy of the gentleman's room, so there was no way out and no one to help as he simply wiggled and pushed his broad body down the bear's gullet and into his gut. By the time he was waist-deep, M.onokuma just tipped his head back and greedily slurped up his legs with gusto. That left him beached on top of his own gut, belching out a pair of glasses with a pleased groan. "Much better...with a meal like this, I guess I'll let it slide that you're all living in harmony. The only way to a bear's heart is after pumping through his guts, after all~" He pats his stomach a few times. Most students would notice the disappearance of both G.onta and M.onokuma. It'd be three days before anyone saw the bear again, and by then, he was looking a lot...fatter than he used to. But he seemed a lot more agreeable now, at least. "You can all live here in your worthless harmony...but I'll be picking students to 'graduate' from now on at my discression! Just like good ol' G.onta." He'd pat his gut a few times, already feeling it grumble for more.

[mlmvoreconfessionals]

gundham tanaka pred prompts?

Yeah, he'd be very fun with it!

In a glorious battle to show off his prowess, G.undam T.anaka was bravely facing the warrior he knew as N.ekomaru N.idai. This battle would be one he would emerge victorious from, as the two of them had set the standard that only one of them may. Perhaps it had merely been the brazen vocabulary of the powerful man that he called a classmate, but there was no challenge that would evade him. He would take on this battle of glory to the very end! Despite not being quiet as skilled a fighter as N.ekomaru might be, the handling of larger and more dangerous animals in his daily life gave G.undam an upperhand after all, and he was able to send the coach toppling to the floor and pin him down. The large man let out one of his usual boisterous laughs, clearly impressed with the show put on for him, but this was a match to the end. And G.undam will be seeing it through. So N.ekomaru's laughter was cut off as his head was engulfed by the fearless animal breeder. Powerful, wet gulps ring out in their battlefield of the training room they were in as the victor claimed his well-fought prize. From there on, N.ekomaru was unable to fight back or resist, his mighty body nothing compared to the hunger of the Supreme Overlord of Ice's hunger. His stomach bloats out heavily before him as he swallows down the last of his meal. He lets loose a mighty roaring belch to signal his victory to any who dared listen. His stomach would surely win out on this next battle of survival. Nothing had ever made it back out, after all. It was a warrior's graveyard.

This winter, G.undam had a plan to avoid the biting cold everyone always had to worry over. While they would bundle themselves in face skins seeking warmth, he would follow the example of his underlings and pack on weight to keep himself warm. It was a perfect plan that only had one hiccup--to put on enough weight to do this, he was going to need a lot of food. Much more than he could scavenge on his own, and consuming his beastly familiars was absolutely out of the question. And that's where his fellow Ultimate students come in. Even the smallest among them is much more food at once than he could possibly eat on a standard diet. So that's how they start falling, one after another, lured to his room like mice into a lion's den. He'd consume them, whole and alive, each messy gulp another promise of a full stomach and a warm winter. He went for the biggest first, the ones who would give him the most, and he bloated up after long days of digesting them one after another. His clothes got tight and constrictive--his pants stopped fitting and he had to borrow some new ones. But it wasn't enough for him. He started the first month of fall, and by the second, he's got a new wardrobe and he's eaten anyone bigger than him. By the second month, he's picked off the rest of the Ultimates and he has outgrown even the biggest (or, well, they used to be the biggest before he got to them) Ultimates. And by the third month, there's no one left, all collected onto his waistline in a glorious warm mass that will keep him toasty throughout the winter. And hell...even they will get to be warm this way. Now everyone has won.

G.undam couldn't help but find himself...flustered. Normally he could act rather brazen and confident, but acts of intimacy were just a bit too much for him to handle. Of course, belly rubs might not seem like the most conventionally intimate act, but it was far more human contact than he was ever used to. It didn't help that his stomach was so sentitive given that it was messily churning up the remains of a couple of his male classmates. A belch escapes him after a rather deep press and he pulls his scrf up over his face to try and hide the red hue his cheeks were taking. "Don't think that this measily plea for mercy will...will save you from the deep void." Another hard press into his gut works out another belch and he stops talking. H.ajime always seemed too willing to help out with even the oddest requests, and while G.undam hadn't directly asked for some help with the indigestion he got, it was certainly appreciated. He just couldn't admit that.

[mlmvoreconfessionals]

Since you got D.anganronpa on the menu, you have any prompts for Teruteru? Pred/prey/observer, whichever you're comfy with

Time for the li’l chef to have his moment in the spotlight.

T.eruteru didn't mind if people wanted to be in the kitchen while he was cooking. It was all the more reason for him to show off a bit and make some dirty jokes to make some guys flustered. What he did mind is when those people were in his way or messing with the food he had laid out. That was unacceptable to him. It was even worse when those people would come back after getting shooed out, and that was always when T.eruteru stopped playing nice. When the other students heard a belch from the kitchen, they suspected that T.eruteru might have sampled a bit too much or he stuffed someone a bit when they came by. What wasn't expected is when the stout chef waddled out of the kitchen, carrying as many plates as he could with a person-shaped gut bulging out in front of him. It got everyone at the table quiet while the T.eruteru sat down dishes like nothing was wrong, even as the curled up bulge pushed around and made muffled noises. The chef not-so-subtly pushed it up against some people as he put plates before them as well. Of course, T.eruteru didn't need to join their meal anymore, so he was the only one without a plate of food at the table. But everyone got to watch his stomach do its job while they ate, steadily losing its shape and shrinking down with loud, wet noises through the course of their eating. It was...distracting, if nothing else, and a good sign that the chef did not mess around when it came to cooking.

T.eruteru grumbles to himself as he looks down at his stained clothes. He'd been working on a big stew and some bozo just came in and knocked into him while he was moving the pot! Now he's absolutely covered in the stuff and it's a waste of good food! Of course, the other person is apologetic, and the chef sees this as his chance to make a move. "Well, if you're so sorry, why don't you come over here and clean me up? I'm sure that tongue of yours can do magical things~" Just a bit of harmless teasing as always, if anything just to lighten the mood and make him forget about the wasted food. He wasn't...actually expecting the person to take him up on his offer, or to feel them licking slowly along his face. He's really starting to feel like a pot roast now, but before he can say anything else, he's staring into wide open jaws and...down he goes. He's pudgy, but he's also short, and it really only takes a few heavy gulps to send all of him down the hatch and forced into another man's stomach. They let out a satisfied belch and pat their stomach. Seems that stew was too good to waste after all--too bad T.eruteru became a part of that meal. But at least someone gets to walk out satisfied with themselves.

The real mark of a good chef is being able to make food around anybody's dietary needs, even if those needs...aren't exactly food based. But it's just the same as cooking up a turkey or pig, right? Just less cooking and more...wrangling. But in the end, he's able to present the perfect platter--it just so happens to be an entire person that the chef had to tie up with some digestive twine. But his customer seems more than happy, pulling the person off the plate and right into their wide open jaws. Even a meal like this. T.eruteru has to say, he's elated that his cooking has managed to satisfy another person. Well, not that he did a whole lot of cooking for this one, but it's the thought that counts, isn't it? He'll have to do some more experimenting with this new ingredient though...and it seems he has just the person to help try out these new ideas! So it seems that this will work out spectacularly...for him, at least.

[mlmvoreconfessionals]

Do you have any new or current interests that you feel like writing vore promts for?

Mmmm...yeah, I think I have some! I’ll do some characters I haven’t been asked for yet that I’ve got in mind.

K.ass lets out a huff as his belly settled down finally, the last of the traveling group sent packing into his gut. The blue R.ito didn’t eat men like this that often but they had been rather rude to him about his music playing! That and not being able to have food today paired for a gurgling demise for the three men. His belly bounced and sloshed around as the travelers tried to fight their way out, getting a rather bassy belch out of the normally kind K.ass. He rubs over his gut with one wing, pushing down on it and getting a noisy gurgle to ring out. “Now, now, settle down in there. You didn’t want to hear my play my accordion anymore, so now you’ll be making a new song for us to enjoy.” He belches again as his gut bubbles noisily. “...well, for me to enjoy, at least.” He slurps over his beak as his body gets right to work on breaking down the meat it was given. Maybe he’d have to see if he can find anyone for an encore performance soon. A bit more wouldn’t hurt...

A deep belch echoed throughout the now empty trial room as the monocromatic bear sat back. M.onokuma’s gut was far larger than himself, all thanks to the fact that he’d stuffed fifteen men inside of it all on his own! “I told you what happens when you guess the killer wrong!” the bear reminds his panicking students. He grins wide as that only seems to upset them further, rocking another wet belch out of the stuffed bear. “Oh man, and to think that I had so many fun motives planned for you all. Oh well...consider becoming bear fat your next motive!” He was so lucky to have so many delicious students to eat here. Thank god the mastermind planned their own fake death. M.onokuma slurps over his lips while his guts start breaking down the struggling men. He could go for dessert once he’s able to waddle off and find the mastermind. The only way out of this killing game should be through M.onokuma’s digestive tract, after all!

“Behind on your payments again?” T.om N.ook asked with a tilt of his head. The villagers nods meekly in response, to which the tanuki sighs. “That’s the third month in a row. I think it’s time for some alternative payments, yes, yes.” The villager seemed relieved to hear that and the two of them went into the home to talk. It wasn’t a very long discussion, mostly filled with wet gulps and slurps, and soon T.om was waddling back out of the house with a stuffed gut. He belches into his paw and uses the other to pat his belly. “This will do just fine. A good meal for me and a home back on the market. I knew we could come to an agreement. I think you’ll find your new accommodations much more affordable, yes, yes.” He starts waddling back to his office so he could rest the meal off, not paying any mind to the panicking villager in his guts. He was just happy to have another successful day of business on his paws.