#ozvore
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Would you mind writing something for O.z from Mo.nster Pr.om? I'm imagining him using his gut to drag his crushes to prom. They might digest before the dance is over, but at least he's not showing up without a date~
I like that idea a lot, so sure!
This is just...embarrassing. The most embarrassing thing O.z has ever had to experience. It's the day of prom, he has his suit and everything, and...he doesn't have a boyfriend! He's been talking to a few guys, leaving his options open, but it's the day of and all of them...all of them turned him down. Now he doesn't have a date! Who goes to prom without a date?! He'll be the laughingstock of the entire school! Maybe he should go into hiding. Disappear, become a NEET or something, escape society and never have to face this!
O.z shakes his head wildly. No, no, no! He can't give up yet! There has to be something he can do. Maybe some flowers? Chocloates? If he just shows them how much they mean to him, they'll definitely want to take him, right? It's not too late! It doesn't have to be! He can...He can...
A deep, low groan rumbles out of O.z's stomach, making him freeze up and look down at it. He gently puts his hand to his flat gut and feels another nasty rumble come from it. He's never felt this hungry before. Maybe it was all the stress..? He should go eat something while he tries to think. He should eat...something...
That's it.
O.z went to prom after all, and in doing so, became the talk of the dance in an instant. He was wearing the nice suit he had picked out weeks in advance, but he didn't have time for any...modifications. That's why the jacket and dress shirt are both left open and his tie is left to hand limply around his neck. Although, most of that was because of his pre-prom binging.
The monster's smooth, black stomach is jutting out before him, grossly engorged with at least several men, the bulges they make shifting and moving around as they try to squirm in the tight confines of the stomach. O.z didn't pay them a whole lot of mind, as if their desperate attempts to escape--or even just find momentary comfort--wasn't a big deal. If anything, he was in a pretty good mood. He came to prom, he has his date(s), and there's no need for him to go off the grid in shame! Sure, having more than one date is a bit...unorthodox, and eating them beforehand probably is, too. But it all works out on a technicality! And if the night goes well, he'll be able to spit them up and maybe they can all have a good laugh about it.
Doing normal prom stuff was a little awkward with such a large gut. He kept bumping it into people and having to apologize when he winds up knocking them down. Getting drinks (he really doesn't have the stomach for snacks right now) was a little hard when his stomach is stretching out farther than his own arms. And he definitely takes up more of the dance floor when he tries dancing with such a large stomach since most people thought it was smart to give the overstuffed O.z a significant breadth to work with. He didn't get to talk to his dates much, either--what little things he could make out were 'Let me out' and 'Oh god, I'm melting!' which didn't make for great conversation. It did a lot to wrack up his nerves, so he made repeated trips to the drink table to slam down a cup of spiked punch. By the fourth one, he was hammered, and there was little chance of survival for his dates at that point.
A stomach, after all, isn't a safe place to store most things, but especially meaty dates to prom. The constant sloshing around as O.z moves about doesn't do much of help them, either. Being on the dance floor a second time, now fueled by alcohol, must have melted down at least two or three of them in the process, and every wet slosh of his stomach doesn't help those that survived it much better. As the night goes on, those detailed bulges become less detailed...and eventually less bulging. O.z winds up belching more and more when he moves around while his guts churn louder than the DJ's music. When he finally takes a break to catch his breath, his stomach is completely round and much smaller than it had been when he walked in. Even so, he never really seemed to notice. It didn't really matter if his dates were alive and kicking or dead and sloshing by this point, and he'd keep enjoying prom with whatever's left of them boiling away.
O.z would have a horrible hangover the next day. He'd think his messy, unkempt suit would mean he got some action that night but...it was mostly like that because his once thin body and ballooned outward in chub after processing about five bachelors in a single night. Prom was too much of a blue for him to remember all the details, though, and whatever clothes or bones were lucky enough to get belched up only vaguely reminded him of who met a grisly end in his stomach. Even if he can't fully recall the greatest night of his life, though, he'd at least have two commemorative photos. One from the start of the night, his gut taking up most of the frame with its distinct bulges, and one at the end of the night, his stomach a round pot belly hanging off his waist while he's blatantly plastered.
At the very least, O.z got to go to prom with his dates. Hopefully, he can find some new ones by next year, though. He's not going to be able to ask them out again.
#v.ore#male vore#mlm vore#m/m vore#gay vore#vore story#digestion#fatal vore#mass vore#weight gain#ozvore#monsterpromvore#accidental digestion#ask
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fuuuck that monster prom story was good, i love the anon that asked that. any chance we can get some prompts about alt endings for different winners?
Yeah, I got some good ideas for that! I'll write something for the four guys that lost.
L.iam let out a sickly belch, his face almost as green as B.rian's is...was. He ate the zombie first and he really doubts the poor guy held up well in his stomach. Even if he didn't eat like this often, he knew his gut could process live meat. Er. Un-alive meat. It's not like he wanted to do this, but when the zombie started looming over him in an effort to win some stupid eating contest he didn't want to be in, he had to do something! B.rian went down kind of hard. And then S.cott had to follow. And then D.amien. And C.alculestor made him eat O.z so he ate the robot and now...well, now he's stuck with an engorged stomach trying its best to churn up five times the meat he's used to eating. He belches again and groans, resting his chin on his stomach. He really hates it when he's dragged into stuff like this...but he supposes he won't have to worry about that anymore. What he will have to worry about is the fact that his usually lithe frame is going to be over encumbered with a lot of new heft. He's going to need a whole new wardrobe after this! All for a competition he didn't want to be in! Another massive belch booms out of him and his guts churn wetly, something softening inside. Another meal down. But he's going to be here for hours...he can't even get any art done like this. He just hopes they're all happy with themselves.
D.amien laughs, pressing down on a face bulging out his gut with a mighty belch. "I told you all I could do it! This was nothing!" In truth, normal food upset the demon's gut in higher quantities and he had tapped out pretty early in their eating contest. What didn't upset the demon's gut was live, squirming meat--he could eat as much of that as he wants and handle it like a champ! So, realizing that the only way he was actually going to win was just that, he stuffed all five guys down his gullet. Now his gut was bloated out in front of him with the guys still kicking around and leaving him as the official victor of their contest! And his gut was only just getting fired up. The guys in there had maybe twenty minutes of squirming left for them before the furnace he called a stomach roared to life and snuffed them out with ease. Even that robot was going to melt away in his gut! And sure, he was going to get fat as hell, but he was going to be more than happy to show off the gut he was going to gain off of this. A perfect way to show his victory off!
"W-Was this really necessary..?" O.z murmurs to his churning stomach. He wasn't exactly the heaviest eater--that award obviously went to S.cott and B.rian. But those two were churning into slop in his stomach now if they weren't already, along with the other three guys that had joined in on the eating contest, so maybe that did leave him as the heaviest eater now. And it wasn't like O.z couldn't eat this much and more with ease, he just...didn't really like to. But the contest got a little...intense thanks to C.alculaestor's rules and O.z panicked when he thought someone was reaching to eat him, so he struck first. And then he panicked more and started devouring the others one by one until...well, here he is, back stomach bloated out heavily as it churned up his friends without a care in the world. And not only was he going to end up digesting all of his friends, but he could already feel his clothes getting tighter. At this rate, he's going to have to get an entirely new wardrobe just to handle all the new weight they were going to be giving him. God, this is so embarrassing. He really doesn't feel like a winner right now.
S.cott's tail was wagging like crazy, a fanged grin on his face as he pushes down on his gut. A sloppy belch rumbles out of the werewolf and he slurps over his teeth with glee. He was just so happy to have been able to win! It always felt good to win and get some praise for it, which B.rian had offered him before he devoured the zombie. The rule about being able to eat each other had made S.cott pounce on a couple of the guys and snarf them down and by now they were more of a churning sludge in his stomach than classmates and friends. The zombie had been the only one left when a partially-digested C.alculatesor reminded the werewolf that he had to eat everything to win. So his belly-rubbing, head-patting praiser ended up being an impromptu snack that melted down rather quickly in his ruthless stomach. Another sloppy belch rumbles out of the werewolf. He wishes he still had someone around to rub his gut, but knowing he did such a good job in the contest still left him happy! Plus, he was going to get some great bulk out of all of this.
#v.ore#male vore#mlm vore#m/m vore#gay vore#vore prompts#male vore prompts#oral vore#mass vore#digestion#fatal vore#implied weight gain#monsterpromvore#scotthowlvore#brianyuvore#damienlevayvore#ozvore#liamdelioncourtvore#calculestervore#ask
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maybe if you're up to it, a story of the guys from Monster Prom having a contest to see who's the biggest eater? (Maybe Scott, Damien, Calculester, Brian, Oz and Liam as the characters?) Could end with one eating all, could end with no real winner, I don't mind, you choose
Hell yeah! I feel like this could go a lot of ways honestly. For the sake of having some fun with the idea, I decided to randomize who gets to eat who!
The idea of an eating competition had been brought up by C.alculestor first, since he'd ended up watching a few of his friends get into some kind of spat about who could eat more. He was rather delighted when everyone seemed to like the idea though! Well, not everyone, as L.iam seemed uninterested, but he got dragged in by the others. O.z was a little reluctant as well but didn't back out by the time food had been prepared and sat out for them.
It went well at first, even if D.amien did object to the robot being both a judge and a participant, with S.cott being the clear victor given the speed at which he scarfed down food and L.iam falling behind out of sheer disinterest. And then things got very serious.
B.rian, who had easily been in second, was watching S.cott clear off his plate while eating. When the werewolf was grabbing the last piece of food, the zombie grabbed his hand. There was plenty of time with S.cott being distracted by this for B.rian to shove the hand into his slimy jaws and start gulping. He slid up the arm with ease, then opened wide to start working S.cott's head inside.
The others took notice around there, which caused a commotion--mostly about if this was cheating or not, with O.z being the only one to actually be worried about S.cott's safety. B.rian paused, his jaws sitting just at the curve of the werewolf's gut, drool soaking into his shirt as they waited for the judge's decision. And he decides...S.cott is technically edible, so if B.rian can get him down, it counts! And will also mean he ate all of S.cott's food, too. That was all the zombie needed to get back to his heavy gulping, throwing his head back as he chugs down the rest of his friend with ease. His green stomach expands out in his lap as S.cott spilled inside. A final wet gulp sent his feet down and that was it for him.
O.z's main concern was making sure S.cott didn't, well, die from this and gave up on the contest to try and convince C.alculestor to change his mind. The robot's response to that...was to open his jaws wide and engulf O.z's head. The robot didn't have a hard time devouring his classmate, the embodiment of fear being relatively easy to slurp and gulp down. No matter how much he flailed around, O.z was down the hatch, and the robot's rubber stomach expanded to contain him with ease. A wet belch escapes C.alculestor and B.rian at the same time.
L.iam decided he was done because he very much did not feel like being eaten over some silly contest today. Unfortunately, his forfeit meant the judge had to remove him, so C.alculestor got the vampire from behind to repeat the process and have his second course. The other two didn't seem to mind as the kicking, struggling vampire was dragged over the table gulp after gulp, sliding down the robot's gullet without a chance to get his bearings. O.z got a lot more wiggly when L.iam dropped down on top of him, which worked another heavy belch from their predator as his stomach expanded to twice its size.
B.rian smirks and looks over to D.amien. The poor demon was pretty well outmatched now, especially when that jock-filled gut pinned him to his seat. He cursed and yelled for all he was worth. It just turns out all that was 'worth' was being a meal because B.rian had an easy time working his jaws over the horned head and starting to gulp. The demon couldn't wiggle being pinned down by both the fat stomach and the tight gullet squeezing him deeper. S.cott, for what it was worth, at least seemed happy to have his friend joining him in the stuffed gut. Being surrounded by chewed-up food wasn't as pleasant, but as D.amien's tail was getting slurped up like a noodle, it was clear that wasn't a choice he got to make.
That only left two stuffed contestants left but neither seemed in the best position to eat the other. Their guts roared and churned wetly over food and friend--which, at this point, was also food. The food coma hit them both hard, and they wound up fast asleep as their prey got more lively against the onslaught of digestion. By the time either of them woke up, their stomachs had shrunk down considerably and their bodies had plumped up considerably. B.rian belches up a half-digested letterman jacket. As the official judge, C.alculetor decides to call it a tie.
#v.ore#male vore#mlm vore#m/m vore#gay vore#vore story#oral vore#digestion#fatal vore#weight gain#monsterpromvore#scotthowlvore#damienlevayvore#ozvore#liamdelioncourtvore#calculestervore#brianyuvore#ask
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O.z from Monster Prom pred prompts? ahwuhwha *dies on sight*
You can't enjoy the good content if you're dead, you know! Even fear needs to eat every so often. Here's a couple'a big ones for him!
O.z had...well, a very ironic problem. Despite being the literal embodiment of fear itself, he was very easily startled. He couldn't handle haunted house tours, horror movies, or even being startled. He'd embarrass himself by showing how cowardly he could be in any situation where he should be thriving, all thanks to that anxiety that likes to flair up when he finds himself getting...well, anxious. Usually it doesn't go much further than a hit to his self confidence, but there have been times where it got...messy. Like that time he was dragged to a haunted house by his friends, only to get separated and nearly have a panic attack. When one of the workers came over--either to help him or frighten him, he hadn't ever learned--he struck so suddenly that even he barely knew what happened. But in the end, he was on the ground, his stomach heavy and bulging as the guy squirmed around inside in a panic. The belch that followed at least let his friends find him and help him waddle out so he could digest his meal somewhere more comfortable. That was bad enough, but he still hadn't told anyone where D.amien had gone. They'd had a small incident in a bathroom that got O.z frightened and the demon found himself inside that gut. He...didn't really find his way out, either, and was done digesting by sixth period. O.z never figured out how to tell anyone that happened, and he hopes something like it doesn't happen again.
The punch was spiked. That's the conclusion O.z had come to after he felt his head swimming around in a tipsy stupor. He didn't want to leave the prom so suddenly, especially when he still had a date here, but he needed to go to the bathroom and...just be ready for something bad to happen. He was literally older than time itself and he still can't handle his alcohol. He'd rather not be seen like this. He tried to stumble away and get some space, but he was stopped by S.cott, who seems to have lost track of his date somewhere in the crowds. O.z would normally love to help the friendly werewolf, but he was not in the right mind for it and wanted to get past the wall of muscle somehow. S.cott wouldn't move, though, still talking despite O.z clearly not listening. He wasn't really sure how he got past the werewolf, but O.z was stumbling away again after some time, making his way to the bathroom to slump down on one of the toilets. A couple deep breaths later...and he was waking up the next morning, his head buzzing lightly and his stomach groaning softly. O.z rubs his head and glances around before looking down at himself, seeing the chubby pot belly hanging out of his split open suit. He...really couldn't remember how he got that, but the building pressure told him it was something big. Good thing he was in the bathroom. He just had to wiggle his pants down a bit and unload his morning dump into the toilet he'd slept on. He felt a lot better after pushing out a few heavy, thick logs and got up, taking a cursory glance over his pile just before flushing it. The ruined blue suit buried in the muck was immediately recognizable to him, though. Seems...that's how he got past S.cott, then.
#v.ore#male vore#gay vore#mlm vore#m/m vore#vore prompts#male vore prompts#monsterpromvore#ozvore#oral vore#digestion#fatal vore#disposal#ask
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