#post-vore day

[cyphyra]

hi hot take but i think ace people should be allowed to produce and consume fetish content without being questioned like "i thought you were ace????"

like yes, i am viscerally repulsed by the thought of penetrative sex irl, that much is true. i also happen to enjoy the impossible-in-real-life fictional situations of being stuffed full of slime, or eggs, or both. plus a ton of other even wilder shit. these concepts are not mutually exclusive and it's really fucking annoying to be asked why im into fetish content if im ace after the 20th time

[snepfeathers]

overheard and misunderstood

you can't blame Zeph too much for the assumption, given it was 8/8...

crops under the cut lmao

[izznts]

Hans ATE/8!

How many do you think Hans ate? I think 8!

Happy Vore Day everyone, here is a lovely gift for my audience of Hans Kareem. Did you know that he used to be in the mafia? Peep the scar~

Art from the lovely Toulensister!

[mmmleckerlecker]

a pred that has absolutely stuffed themself with food and are now determined to eat this one prey for dessert but their stomach is already soooo packed that they’re jostling and massaging it with each swallow to make room for more and more of this extremely resistant and squirmy prey

[mcelroyfamilystaff]

[novorehere]

I just realized something…

My first vore day on this blog was in 2016. That was eight years ago. It’s my eighth anniversary of 8/8. This year is my golden vore day...

[nightmarevore]

“You wish to be my housemate, then?” William Afton, posh and proper as ever, sits at a table, across from another man. 

This other man is Henry Emily, sitting silently and staring at the man. He nods in response, and his fingers play with themselves nervously. 

“I do, we’re both going to be starting College soon, and we’re going to the same one. It would be a smarter idea to move in with someone so close and with the same schedule as myself.” Henry replies, holding his fingers still in his lap. 

“Hm… You’re absolutely right.” William’s accent isn’t American—In fact, it sounds something akin to British. Is there a hint of cockney in there? “I must inform you of something that is make-or-break for many people. There have been countless before you who I’ve told this to, and it made them immediately change their minds.”

Henry’s eyebrows furrow. What could this possibly be?

“What is it?” He asks.

“I’m a predator. I must eat people on occasion. I am constantly hungry, and at any given moment, without warning, I will swallow you whole.” The Brit’s voice is monotone, and his expression remains still and neutral. 

It’s easy to tell he’s being quite serious about this. 

“You’ll…. swallow me whole?” Henry repeats, tilting his head. Almost as if asking for clarification. 

William stands up from his chair, and it pushes out with his legs. He places a hand over his stomach. 

“I have the ability to swallow people. Shifters, full-sized people, you name it. I can even eat an object or two… Either way, by becoming my roommate, you must also accept the fact that you may end up in here.” The Predator pats his stomach, signifying what’s under his button-up shirt. 

Henry pauses, and his eyes shift down to where the other was gesturing towards. He… would get eaten whole? How does that work? Why does that sound so interesting? It’s a new experience, perhaps it could be fun?

“Maybe a demonstration is in order?” Henry blurts out, eyes widening. He shocks himself with the request.

William’s eyes widen, and he adjusts his glasses. He can’t say he’s ever had someone willingly offer themselves to be eaten. 

“You want me to eat you?” The Brit asks. 

Henry pauses, realizing what he just asked. His eyes shift from William’s face to his stomach. 

“… Yes.” He says. 

William’s lips curl into a smile, soon parting and revealing his sharpened teeth. He walks around the table, standing tall beside Henry, and possible new roommate. 

Almost as if he were hypnotized by the taller man, Henry stands up from his chair, staring into William’s bright green eyes. They’re easy to get lost in; his eyes are almost like beautiful jewels on his face. 

Without hesitation, William places his hands on the other man’s shoulders, giving into his desperate, endless hunger and shoving Henry’s head into his mouth and throat. He doesn’t hesitate to swallow, determined to temporarily sate his hunger. Henry Emily will go down, with or without a fight. 

Henry’s eyes quickly shut as he’s faced with the darkness and loud strength of the predator’s throat. William’s strength and ability is enough to throw him off, and it takes the man a moment to be sure this wasn’t some kind of weird dream or not. 

“Wi—“ Henry attempts to get a word in before another aggressive swallow sends him further down, and rather quickly at that. His entire torso must be inside of William by now. 

In response, William purrs, and despite the heavy and hearty swallows, he seems to be enjoying himself. Enjoying Henry’s flavor. His eyes flutter shut, and he picks up Henry with his hands as he quickly and heavily swallows the other man down. His hunger demands the man, especially now that he’s gotten a taste. An absolutely stunning taste, at that. Has anyone ever tasted this good? This delicious? As delectable as this man? All of the different flavors of people he’s eaten tend to melt away into something he’s unable to remember. This time, however….

With another swallow, Henry’s head is quickly shoved and pushed down into the predator’s stomach organ. His stomach grows quickly, and continues to grow, straining the buttons of his shirt. William doesn’t care, as indicated as more of his meal fills his stomach and breaks off buttons. 

William’s ravenous stomach groans and gurgles as soon as Henry enters, but the half-eaten man can’t tell if it’s because William is hungry, or if it’s because it has him inside of it. He can’t believe how tight this is—William’s throat and stomach constrict and hold him in place. It’s hard to think he can even eat him in the first place, but it’s clearly possible. And judging by how fast he’s gone down, the predator does this fairly often. Henry can’t say he’s ever felt the flesh of another human’s stomach before, and the inner walls are quite slick. Wet with saliva and acid. It’s strange, though. It’s not entirely uncomfortable. Hot, sure… But not unpleasant. 

William swallows twice, forcing his legs down inside of him. The Brit purrs at the sensation of his belly growing and being filled. Henry seemingly shifts around inside as more of him is quickly stuffed inside, and another, large, final swallow sends the rest of his lunch down his throat and past his collarbone. Both hands press into his belly, and a smile grows on the predator’s face. A deep exhale marks Henry settling fully inside his stomach, and he opens his eyes. His shirt has fully broken apart to the top of his belly, noting that he’d have to fix that later. 

For now, William pats his stomach, putting a hand down on the back of the chair where Henry was just sitting, soon turning and sitting down on the chair itself. It creaks from the weight, but settles as William continues to smile and his stomach rests on his lap.

“Well, Henry… I hope you’ll enjoy living together.”

[bichambered-reservoir]

guess who discovered they don't rock with 90% of their art!!!!! this isn't even a vent post, i wouldn't post vents, this is a ramble and an unnecessary announcement that i will be posting more, and posting cringe.

A lot of the art i post on there, i will not deny, it was extremely fun to make. i will not doubt that for a Moment. I have created so much neon, eyebleeding D,J,M,M v,ore paraphernalia and knowing the amount i have ruthlessly inflicted upon the world brings me much joy. However: i have realized that most of these do nothing for me.

How is it that with all this D,J,M,M v,ore, barely any of it feeds the purple, glowing, gaping maw in my soul? . I've just been making shit for this blog because i need to draw d,j,m,m v,ore to maintain my internal reputation of d,j,m,m v,ore guy. I think it looks good, but that's not the point, the point was making my heart flutter and i have FAILED. It's probably why I've only been posting like, once a month now. (that and bc of h,omo mousike)

Comet and Fritz are back on my mind with their weird explicitly v,orey bullshit along with them, and I am going to draw it. It's going to be dimly lit, neon-colored, and be about the exact same thing like I'm a broken record and only i will like it

[eddybelly]

I play PUnite and my main is Goodra, so I brought back my Goodra sona, and made some tweak to their design so it feels more unique...

Also they start as a Goodra immediately in the match instead of a Goomy, they just get bigger and fatter every evolution levels instead... become biggest tank...

[clouds-dont-judge]

How come you never post anymore? :(

^ This process occurs every ~4 months and then suddenly its been 2 years since I last made a genuine piece of art whoops

Still interested in vore but I have this wack mental block that stops me from creating art. Looking back on my old posts got me missing it tho...

[mysticcomfort]

Happy vore day from me and @theprotectivepred

[the-sussy-imposter2]

Jest calls himself a pred, and in practically every aspect of his life he embodies that title.

Expect for meal times. Some how they always ends up on the plate. (They say they hate it but they dont mind)

[nompunhere]

sorry to all the people in my fandom in this community who rely on me as one of the very few vore writers/artists for it, hoping to find content of their favorite characters while I just obsess over the same 2-3 guys continuously

but also I'm not sorry at all because this is My House and I make what I want 👉👉

[teal-fiend]

Party Trick

A uni student pred goes to a party. The group Find out he’s a pred. They want to see it for themselves.

Content: intoxication, fatal vore, pred pov, digestion, willing prey

—

It was a late night, I was in my dorm, rewriting notes under the yellow light of my desk lamp. I copied my scrawlings from the lecture in perfect, even strokes. 

I finished the page, and took a sip of coffee that had gone cold. I felt a hungry growl from my stomach. I’d gotten distracted by my work and neglected to have dinner. I lit a cigarette. Another distraction from hunger. 

As I was drifting off in thought, indulging in the cheap satisfaction of a nicotine high, the phone rang. It was an odd hour to call, still I answered it.

“Rowan speaking” “Ro,” I heard laughter in the background, “where are you?”

Alice had invited me to her party, I’d completely forgotten about it, too busy with my studying. 

“I’m at home.” 

“Get your scrawny ass over here now!” She shouted over the ambiance of the party. 

I thought I’d done enough work for the night, and I did want to go. “Alright,” I said loudly. She said something incoherent and then hung up.

I didn’t want to arrive sober, especially since I was already late, so I took a few long swigs from the bottle of whisky I kept in my room, then I put it in my satchel bag, along with my cigs. 

I felt a wave of light nausea and dizziness after the alcohol settled in my empty stomach. I hoped they had food at the party, because otherwise I’d be in for a rough night. 

I checked myself in the mirror before heading out. There were dark circles under my eyes, behind my tawny glasses. And my hair was deranged. I smoothed it down, I adjusted my collar, and smoothed down my dress shirt as well. 

I arrived at Alice’s not twenty minutes later, I fumbled with the gate’s lock, and watched my step as I ascended the stairs.

Alice greeted me, leaning against the doorframe, “Rowan’s here!” She exclaimed, drunk, happy, willing to share that with me. A few other party guests cheered when she said this, partially excited to see me, but mostly wanting something to cheer about.

I entered the house, the windows were foggy from the warmth of the bodies inside, drinking, talking, there was a stereo playing. Alice had a pole in her living room, and a tall boy was swinging around on it like a gymnast, even still with a bottle of gin glued to his hand.

I drank too, and was offered someone’s weed pipe, which I took a few introspective puffs from. I was still hungry, my drunkenness was less energetic like the rest of them, and more forlorn. The weed kicked in and I was content to feel sorry for myself. 

I found myself on a leather couch, in a conversation, but not able to pay much attention to it. The party was winding down, I was nestled in, we all were, in something of a circle.

They were trying to get my attention. 

“Rowan,” a blonde girl, who’s name I couldn’t remember asked, “is it true?” “Is what?” I asked dully. 

A boy, Peter, who was sitting next to me answered, “that you’re a predator?”

I did not expect that question. “Uh, yeah,” 

Alice asked, “what does it mean?”

“It means he eats people.”

“I haven’t done it in a while,” I said, and it was true, “I don’t even know if I still can.” Less true, but it seemed like the right thing to say.

“Why do you do it?” “I get hungry sometimes,” I explain, “It’s just something I can do, I guess,”

“Are you hungry now?” Peter asked.

“How did you learn how to do it?” Said someone else

My stomach made a protracted, implicatory growl. Its timing got the attention of everyone in the circle.

“You are hungry,” the blonde girl said, mystified. 

“You should consume someone here… that would be fucking crazy.”

I laughed self consciously. 

“Wait, should we actually?” Alice asked, with genuine interest. 

I felt a nervousness in my chest that was compounded by the pot. This could be a possibility... Everyone was drunk, high, and eager to see something they hadn’t seen before. My mouth watered at the realisation; the suggestion of a meal. I swallowed quickly.

“Maybe,” I said slowly, I didn’t want to seem too eager, But I’d never before eaten prey while high, and the idea was growing on me. 

“Okay, if we did, who would it be?” 

No one volunteered, and I was let down, and a little embarrassed. 

But then Peter said, “I would,”

Everyone hyped him up for that, and I felt my heart flutter concerningly. I hoped it wasn’t arrhythmia (it’s happened before).

Peter. I had never looked at him that way before. He usually wore glasses, but he wasn’t tonight. He was a good student, but not driven, not obsessive like me. I had never once considered him as my prey, but in the moment it was starting to make a lot of sense.

I had that thing that happens sometimes when you’re high, the time distortion, when you suddenly remember everything you did at once. Probably the weed making things seem more significant than they were, but I began to believe that everything I had done today was leading up to this moment. 

I watched him curiously. His soft brown hair might give me trouble, but his clear (if not alcohol flushed), smooth skin… He had an edible vibe to him. He wouldn’t be too demanding on my stomach.

And he had a healthy, organic aroma. Like he’d showered recently, but wasn’t wearing cologne. 

Alice giggled.

“What?” I asked innocently.

“Dude,” another guy chimed in, “you’re looking at him like he’s a ribeye or something,”

My face flushed. Peter grinned.

“Damn, okay,” Alice said, “do it then”

Peter turned to me. My predatory side was more than eager to have him, but I couldn’t help but wonder what my professor would think of me, eating one of my fellow students.

But then his hands were in my mouth, and I remembered how hungry I was. I hadn’t eaten in hours, I’d studied hard all day, the marijuana didn’t help with the cravings either. He tasted incredible, the vibrancy I was able to experience, no meal I’ve had sober could compare even remotely. 

Still I knew people were watching, so I tried to be cool about it. The prey dropped into my stomach and the reward chemicals in my brain made my body feel like butter. I fell apart.

The blonde girl felt my stomach through my dress shirt, which was riding up since my stomach had become engorged. She noticed how my belt was digging into my gut, so she undid it for me. 

The group cooed at me, gathering around, marvelling at the sight in front of them. The other guy, a redhead, I didn’t remember his name either, he unbuttoned my shirt in order to get a clear look at me. 

I closed my eyes and leaned back, offering my belly up for their inspection. Their many hands were on me, driven by morbid curiosity, pressing gently, tentatively testing my boundaries.

When the prey, Peter, started moving under my skin they gasped in surprise and fascination.

When I had my first prey, I was as interested in the visuals as they were. It was so strange to see my body change so much to accommodate my meal, and watching it squirm, pressing out against my own skin, it used to engross me. But now I was more intent on the sensations happening where I couldn’t see. Inside my stomach, I felt the prey at every point of contact on my internals. The friction caused by his wriggling invigorated my stomach. I swore I could feel the acids and enzymes being squeezed out with every press.

What’s more the prodding and patting that my audience was doing from the outside… I was being stimulated from every direction. It was almost too much. I kept my eyes closed.

I stretched languidly, smirking in content. I basked in the attention which was itself perhaps more enjoyable than the satisfaction of the meal. I relished in their enthrallment, these prey doting on my predatory body, witnessing me annihilating one of their species. It was a dark, existential event for them to indulge in, but by the way they kneaded into my belly, they seemed to be enjoying it more than I was. 

We were all high off our shit - I can’t imagine how Peter was doing in there, enveloped in a vacuum sealed, warm bag of flesh which teethed at him, unrelentingly. And then his friends on the outside, poking at him with almost scientific inquisition, playing with him like highschoolers at a frog dissection.

And for Alice and the two others, I was reminded of this psychedelic festival I was told about, where they had sensory boxes, filled with sand, or slime, any interesting texture that a tripped out party-goer could appreciate. I’d imagine my belly was having that effect on them; it was warm, doughy in places, but firm. It moved like it was alive, shifting unfathomably beneath their hands. 

Wait, does that mean I’m the sensory container? The thought made me feel strange.

Despite being stoned out of my mind, my digestive system went forward with its treacherous work. I heard a noise that sounded like someone was washing the dishes, and draining the sink. I wondered how the hell someone got a sink into the living room, when I realised the sound was coming from my stomach. The blonde girl pressed her head against my gut, and the others took their turn as well, listening to my drunken body digest our friend. 

I heard a door open, and footsteps coming towards us. Whoever it was said “what the fuck is going on in here?” Before promptly leaving. I thought that was the funniest shit ever, and I tried (unsuccessfully) to stifle a laugh. 

It was contagious, we all lost our shit for a minute. Laughing uncontrollably at the situation.

The ginger guy said, “ah man, Peter,” talking to my stomach.

Alice pushed with her shoulder on my lower belly, pushing it up further to my chest - my breath hitched - before releasing the hold, hearing it slosh as it settled back into position.

“Your tummy’s really heavy,” she sighed.

“What were you trying to do?” I asked, suppressing a belch due to the disturbance of my stomach contents.

“Move you onto the couch again.”

“I can get up on my own.” I couldn’t. I was pinned down and too inebriated to find any strength or balance.

“You’re so sleepy,” the guy said.

“Aw, sleepy Rowan,” the other girl sympathised.

It wasn’t so much sleepiness, but I couldn’t even begin to explain it to them. My conversational skills were not so finely tuned at the present moment.

The three of them got stuck into the task of covering me with blankets, quilts, and pillows from around the home. I was draped in what I think were hand towels as well, which confused me, but they were doing their best. 

I was strangely comfortable under the pile which was stacked atop me. 

All the lights in the house were turned off, and I thought they left me alone, but I felt at least one, maybe 2 bodies next to me, or maybe I was imagining things. 

As I fell into unconsciousness, I couldn't help but wonder if I was going to regret it in the morning.

[lesbianoms]

Happy Vore Day everyone!!!

I know I’ve been taking kind of a soft break from posting here, but lately I’ve been feeling good again, what with my relationship to this kink.

Not gonna lie, I was a bit nervous for today. The influx of vore content runs the risk of me coming across potentially triggering things that aren’t tagged too specifically. I know that some of my mutuals are into darker types of vore that I don’t really jive with, which is all good!! But sometimes my recommendations lead me down a rabbit hole. With all that in mind, I was kinda planning to stay off on Tumblr entirely today.

BUT I am feeling the love of the community and I have faith in myself not to risk going through general tags just to find content I may enjoy. And also, I would like to take part in today! I enjoy being a part of this community.

You all are very sweet to me by the way! A few years ago if you told me I was running a vore sideblog I would’ve called you crazy. But I feel a lot more sure in myself and my preferences these days. Sorry that all these long thought posts always get a bit sappy, lol.

Feel free to send me asks today!! I have a lot of unanswered ones in my inbox, and in honor of Vore Day I’m going to focus on answering as many as I can!!

And who knows? Maybe I’ll write up something special today to celebrate the occasion ;)

Vore responsibly everyone!

[clownhoodieguy]

You know that thing you did as a kid where you gotta run after turning out the lights, or the shadow demons were going to catch you.

Imagine as an adult, you no longer being afraid of the dark, switch off the lights and slowly walk to bed, only to be grabbed just as you were about to step foot into the light and hear:

"Whole lot smarter as a kid, weren't you?~"

And then they drag you off into the darkness while laughing maniacally to eat you or something, idk, I'm a vore blogger not a horror writer. Get ate by the shadow folk and have to wait out the night in their pitch black gut.