#preds tag

[supernormalblogname]

i can be trusted to be very normal about various things

[limespeaks]

Here’s your food pressure vore enjoyers

(NSFW DNI I’LL BOMB YOUR HOUSE)

[lesbianoms]

Vore Teasing in Public

When the prey is un-nommed:

“What’s the matter, sweetie? Is it too loud here? Do you need some tummy time?”

“How do you think all these people would react if I just ate you up right here? Do you think anyone would try to save you? Huh?”

“I can see it on your face, my love… you want to be inside this belly instead of at this event…”

“That waiter was being awfully flirtatious. Maybe I ought to swallow you whole when he brings the check around… just to show him who you belong to…”

“My sweet treat, my precious prey~ of course I want to flaunt my pretty catch to everyone… think of all the jealous looks we’ll get, with you squirming around in my belly~”

When the prey has been nommed:

“You feel so good in there, sweets… *hic* get comfy and I’ll walk us both home…”

“Mm, there goes this outfit. *grgl* What’s that? Oh, yes, people are definitely staring~”

“We’re at the grocery store now. Do you want anything? I’ll gulp it right down for you, don’t worry…”

“Shhh, shhh… it’s okay, nobody can see you now, no one can judge…”

“Would you be embarrassed if I let out a big belch right now? *ggrn…* But I love you, darling, and I want to show everyone what you do to me~”

When the surrounding people are being nosy:

“What are you looking at, huh punk? My eyes are up here.”

“You wanna feel? They’re kicking <3”

“Touch my belly again and you’ll be dinner. What, you think I’m bluffing? I can spit them out unharmed and snap you up in the same breath.”

“Yes, I’d like another order of that. I’m eating for two…”

“Oh God, another concerned citizen? Don’t worry, they’re fine. Calm down. …What? They’re making those noises because they like it in there~”

[nombitenary]

Chris wants a belly rub! He's even willing to let you choose where you want to rub from. Where are you picking, the outside, or the inside? Either way, he's content to lay back and purr as you help his guts with his latest meal.

[sinningtamer]

Calling “trapped inside a warden’s ribcage” vore is probably pushing it, but I have a permit to do whatever I want. (Bonus: the clip that inspired this)

vore day countdown: 3/8

[do not reblog to non-kink/fandom blogs]

[nomstellations]

"Haah...you settling in alright, bud?"

His client had just finished filling his stomach, and they were already squirming around in either displeasure or panic. "Easy, easy..." He patted at the squirming bulge in his stomach in an effort to soothe them. "I'm here to keep you safe, remember? You'll be escorted just as I promised, sorry about swallowing you so suddenly like that...but nobody should bother you if you're hidden. Just sit tight and relax, alright bud?"

Although his methods were a little...unorthodox, he enjoyed getting escort jobs. In general he loved working as a sort of bodyguard, protecting people made him feel happy and fulfilled. Though eating his clients wasn't exactly a part of the job...their motto was "Your Shield," and what better way to do that than to shield someone with your whole body? Anything that wanted to hurt them would literally have to go through him, and he wasn't about to make it easy for anyone.

Resting his hand on his stomach, he felt his charge finally start to settle down. Good, now he could start moving. The other good thing about this is that he didn't have to worry about eating on the job like this...though he might take a few breaks along the way. Working on a full stomach did feel pretty nice.

[ltsmoving]

sorry for being so slow on art, between work and art block it's been an absolute nightmare. anyway hi i aged.

(gonna try to make more art now that my work is done, just gotta power through this art block like a true gamer ig)

[suzyandthefox]

A word of truth

(Lots of words about my opinion on the SFW vore community and why I'm not revealing my persona yet)

I think I'm finally understanding why am I feeling the pred vibes lately, why do I feel a great need to consume and control...

It's because I don't have control of my own life

I'm constantly struggling to control things I can't control, and I'm sick of being pressed under a thumb, I'm sick of feeling like a cornered beast in a cage.

I have noticed recently how tall I am irl and I have been feeling more proud of my body and myself

The main thing pushing me from officially revealing my predsona is because, let's be honest here, the vore community (and the g/t community), while not as bad as before, still has a lot of in-built misogyny, the nonsexual/non suggestive pieces with fem preds are almost nonexistent compared to ones with more masc preds.

That being said, I feel like presenting my persona to the world is just me presenting myself to be drawn in ways that will absolutely make me uncomfortable, but I also would love to draw and interact with my fellow artists.

The thing with Suzy is, she is basically a mascot, she was made as a character to be eaten, which is why I don't have this issue with her.

My persona is a representation of myself, and so subjecting myself to the internet feels like a dangerous situation where somehow it will be *my* fault for the unsavoury things that will happen.

But I also would love to explore the pred part of me in a safe way.

If you read this, thank you, and... yeah I would love a word of advice and guidance from other preds or just others in general.

[cannibalvore]

A pred and their observer partner are enjoying some quality time together after the preds latest meal. Suddenly, their stomach lurches slightly, and they regurgitate a few bones – all perfectly clean except for the slobber, of course.

Instead of being disgusted by this, however, their partner gives them a mischievous smirk as they examine the macabre remains for longer than they probably should, patting the pred's stomach fondly –

"Looks like you're digesting well, darling"

[cybertron-after-dark]

You should write beast wars, can I have some silly predacon headcanons?

I should absolutely write beast wars. Silly Predacon headcanons coming up

-Megatron talks battle strategy with his rubber duck all the time. He considers it his most trusted advisor because it's never said anything stupid and never tried to kill him. Honestly, he's tempted to think of the little dude as his only real friend.

-Speaking of Megatron, the man is a WHORE for a good bath bomb. Lush addiction, 100%. He has a whole hidden stock of bath bombs, bath salts, scented oils, candles, decorative soaps, scented metal polish and flower petals specifically for spoiling himself when he feels like hes completely surrounded by idiots. Which is often. Has he ever tried to eat one of the decorative soaps that look like baked goods? It doesn't count if it's the t rex hand.

-the reason skorponok occasionally reverts into caveman speak for some episodes is the writers couldn't figure out what to do with him he knows talking like that pisses off tarantulas and he thinks his annoyance is funny even though literally nobody else is amused by the bit.

-skorponok actually kind of misses dinobot because he made his job a lot easier. Constantly pitching ideas, suggesting battle strategies, pointing out flaws in plans. He was useful, even if he seemed to hate skorponok. He doesn't really know how to be a good second in command anymore because a crucial part of the dynamic is missing and he just can't adapt.

-waspinator is perfectly capable of speaking in normal grammar and not in the third person but he's been doing it since he joined in with Megatron and at this point he thinks he's in too deep to knock it off. He thinks it makes him sound cuter because it's actually an evolution of internet uwu speak. Memes get weirdly translated from earth to Cybertron and back.

-waspinator is actually really good at baking but he'll get blasted to bits a thousand times over before he lets anyone other than terrorsaur know because none of his other coworkers deserve to try his cupcakes (and also because he doesn't want to get "promoted" to kitchen slave). Dinobot knew, but he didn't snitch. Wasp never found out that Dinobot would occasionally snag a brownie, he always thought he just counted wrong.

-Terrorsaur is not above attempting to seduce a maximal but all his flirting attempts go horribly awry. If they don't outright reject him they just have no idea what he's getting at bc Predacon flirting is usually a lot different than maximal flirting so everyone thinks he's just kind of being a dick like usual. Dinobot knows exactly what is happening and ranges anywhere from amused to disgusted by the cross-faction fling attempts. The flying weasel clearly has no principles.

-Every couple weeks or so wasp and terrorsaur will get together to watch terrible movies over a bottle of highgrade and it always devolves into bitching about megatron. They tried inviting tarantulas a few times but he'd always make things Weird by bringing in slashers with really good special effects and proceeding to gush about how tasty the gore looks.

-Tarantulas knows what just about every living species in the known galaxy tastes like, organic, mechanical and everything in between. If it's made contact with Cybertron, chances are he's he's tried their flesh (or lack thereof). If it's at all possible, he wants to find out enough about the Vok to figure out how to capture, kill and eat one.

-Tarantulas also thinks rampage is a total poser when it comes to cannibalism. He doesn't even look like he's having fun with it. Barely any torturing or teasing beforehand, only dramatic monologues about fear and anguish. Bah! Amateur...

-Blackarachnia has a trash tv addiction. She doesn't know WHY the Darksyde's datatrax has every season of Keeping Up with the Kardashians and like 30 TLC produced shows, but she refuses to stop watching them. Tarantulas fucking hates it. She does not care and if he complains she will turn the volume higher.

-Blackarachnia has incredibly mixed feelings on the story Cinderella. On the one hand, it gives her a degree of hope. A girl reduced to a work slave for terrible people that gets to escape and live it up with a guy that lives her? Great conceptually, but she only got to get out of it because she was a good person and nice to everyone. Blackarachnia? Not quite so disgustingly sweet. She's a bad girl through and through. And evidently bad people don't get to escape bad situations. Oh well. She can always try to fake it til she makes it.

-Inferno has always secretly hoped that when the war is over, his Queen Megatron will settle down with him and repopulate the colony together. He has wildly saccharine domestic daydreams of being with his giant beloved lizardy queen and their 3000+ kids. He has accidentally let this slip around Megatron once, who proceeded to pointedly ignore what he just said.

-Terrorsaur and Blackarachnia got Inferno to watch Drag Race but upon hearing the contestants being called queen, he took it a bit too literally and interpreted the show as the sad, underwhelming way human queens settle disputes between their colonies instead of just fighting the proper way. Lame.

-Quickstrike is so so very sad he can't play video games. He wants to play GTA and cause excessive and wanton death and destruction, but his fucked up hands cannot hold the controller. He forsakes Primus for building him the way he did. He keeps trying to get tarantulas to make him a usable controller but he gets brushed off every time.

-Quickstrike has attempted to ride inferno in his beast mode into battle. It did not end well but for about a solid 18 seconds it looked metal as hell.

-Rampage actually really likes depth charge and wants to be friends sooooo bad but he doesn't know how to handle that in a healthy way so he keeps trying to get his attention by playing up the cannibalism thing and hoping they fight again. Honestly he just kind of likes depth charge holding him, even if it's in a chokehold.

-After losing transmutate, Rampage projected a lot of his grief onto waspinator, which lead to a very strange period of time on the ship where rampage would get very cuddly and protective of wasp, who was incredibly terrified of what would happen if he shoved the crab off. Usually accompanied by Rampage being Incredibly Sad.

-every month the preds have a game night. Usually a board game or card game with Megatron's house rules. Said house rules are specifically designed to make a fight break out for his amusement. These game nights typically end with at least three people in the r-chamber and somebody missing at least one limb.

[supernormalblogname]

the creatureeeee (again)

[sexswansworld]

I really want to take somebody into like an abandoned building and chase them the fuck down, you know? It’s so much more scary that way, neither of us know the layout, you won’t know where any hiding places are, I’ll get frustrated trying to find you and it’ll only make me more determined, and then I fuck you into the floor when I finally catch you. Sounds good, doesn’t it?

[lesbianoms]

(CW: Cruel pred and neglect for prey's humanity, but digestion is still painless. Old draft I finally decided to share with y'all)

Pred/observer wlw couple with petplay dynamics~~ 🥵

The observer is a generous mistress. She keeps her pred pampered and submissive, leashed and collared. And she always sees to it there’s a steady diet of men to fatten her up.

Make no mistake, the observer loves the pred and isn’t just using the live feedings for her pleasure. She absolutely adores her pet and treats her like a princess, giving her belly rubs and kisses and spoiling her rotten.

The pred is madly in love too, and living the dream. Her hazy, hungry mind only knows bliss. Maybe she’s on the smaller side— or at least, she was on the smaller side. Now after churning up so many struggling meals, the weight of her lifestyle is evident, constantly bulging off her middle <3

Maybe she’s aware of what actually happens to the prey she eats, or maybe she’s not. Either way, her partner does all the hard work for them both, all the scheming and planning to lure unsuspecting male meals towards their gurgly fate.

A typical feeding night might go like this:

The observer flirts with a guy at a bar, acting like she’s interested in him. He may respond. As they engage with each other, she usually makes her decisions based on the vibes she gets from him. The chauvinists always taste better.

She takes him home, promising him the threesome he’s always wanted. He happily obliges and has most of his clothes off by the time they reach the bedroom. The pred— who, depending on the night, was either in the middle of a nap or nursing a hungry, empty tummy— sees the observer enter and her eyes light up excitedly.

And what’s this? Her mistress has returned with a delicious looking treat~

“Here pet, I brought you supper,” the observer tells her with a sweet yet mischievous grin.

The man is confused. He’s about to ask what she means… but before he knows it he’s already been pushed to the ground, the wind knocked out of him, and a drooling girl on top of him.

Compared to her prey, the pred doesn’t look threatening— not even taller than him, not strong physically— but the minute her instincts take over, it’s the end for him…

The observer watches in delight as her pred-pet devours the screaming man whole, watches as he slips down her throat and fills out her gut, rounding out her empty stomach. She’s all ready with the praises as her pred manages the final swallow. His cries for help get lost inside of her, and now he’s sealed away inside of her greedy belly… walls squeezing in, acids bubbling…

“Good girl~!” The observer cooes, pleased that her pred managed to get yet another victim to go down so easily. “Good puppy!!”

The pred tried to sit back up but she’s completely overwhelmed by the sensations of her living meal inside her. She wriggles on the carpet, whimpering in pure pleasure, weighed down by her hefty gut. Feeling every frantic movement of her prey as he struggles inside of her, desperate to escape. All that he manages to do is muster up a burp from the mouth of his pred as she pants and drools like a satisfied dog.

Her mistress’s words snap her back to attention. “Come here, sweetie, I’ll help your food settle down~”

Loyally, obediently, the pred pads over on all fours with enthusiastic steps, her belly hanging low to the ground. She rolls over onto the bed and purrs as the observer begins to stroke her huge stomach…

“He’s a feisty one,” the observer hums, admiring the futile squirming of the prey. “But don’t worry, honey, he's no match for your hungry tummy~”

The pred stares up at her owner with hearts in her eyes, as the observer traces small shapes over her belly. At this point, both women are aware of how active it is, gurgling and growling and setting to work on the man inside. His protests are muffled by the thick, churning walls. Not that either of them would listen anyways.

“You have a noisy belly, pet,” the observer murmurs, giving the overstuffed organ a firm pat. It groans in response as it twitches under her touch.

“T-thank you... mistress...!” the pred gasps between moans, blushing.

The observer lowers herself onto the pred and starts kissing the swell of her stomach.

“I love it when you get all plump like this,” she continues. “You’re so pretty when you’re stuffed with men…”

“Huff... I can feel him-” the pred whines. Before she can form a coherent thought, a meaty belch makes its way up from the burbling, slimy chamber below.

*BWOOOOOURRRRPPP!!*

She feels her dinner thrash around in response, and she squeals and squirts all over the bedsheets, mumbling incoherently as she’s overstimulated by the sudden surge of movement in her belly.

“Oh, my good girl. You really like feeling him in there, don’t you, princess?” Her mistress teases. “Yes... you love destroying those pigs with your belly…”

The pred can only make animalistic sounds of pleasure, mewling as her owner holds her close and fondles her belly.

The observer can’t keep her hands away, caressing every rounded inch, every bit of its softening surface. She’s kissing her pet’s pretty lips, fingers buried in her hair. The two of them are extremely aroused, growing wet, rubbing their bodies together…

And after they come together, they lay back in their orgasmic bliss, holding each other like they’re all that remains in the world.

“My sweet, gluttonous puppy,” the observer trills, staring into her pet’s big, beautiful eyes. “My little man-eater.”

The rest of the night is soft. The observer coos to the pred how much she loves her, what a precious thing she is… all while her food kicks and struggles weakly, his quiet pleas for mercy competing to be heard over the erotic sounds of digestion.

After her prey stops moving, the look in the pred’s eyes glazes over and she clings to the observer, nuzzling against her like a large cat. They make love to each other while what’s left of the man sloshes around in the pred’s belly, eventually slipping deeper into her guts, pumping through her intestines…

[wannabeeaten]

something that's always bugged me about vore is the lack of disabled preds. in every corner of the community, it's something I rarely see.

I get that preds are supposed to be "peak humanity" when it comes to human preds, but it feels a bit wrong that the peak is so exclusionary. it's just so weird that no one else enjoys or even entertains the idea of preds that suffer from something.

it's not like they wouldn't have appealing factors to them. maybe a blind pred uses their mouth to get a feel of someone because their hands can't quite do the job of making out their features, or a hearing impaired person using their ability to enjoy a different form of bonding with their S/O. the ideas are there, but no one seems to include them from what I've seen. I have more ideas but I don't want this to come off as gratuitous for the sake of proving a point.

some of my favorite characters in tv shows and movies would make great preds, like Matt Murdock or even Flynn from Breaking Bad, who has cerebral palsy. these characters can be the "peak" too.

this could also be said about the prey too, but y'all aren't ready for that discussion

[nombitenary]

Spelunking.

Super short (2.5K) self indulgent story of a borrower!you getting caught by Christopher and swallowed up <3 Maybe bring better equipment next time you try borrowing from a maneater...

G/t, ambiguous ending, rope play in the throat, and mentions of fatal <3 enjoy!

You can’t believe you got caught.

The man who lives in the apartment you’ve been borrowing from is home so rarely that you suppose you’ve gotten careless. After all, he’s never around to hear your heavy footsteps on the counters or the scrabbling of clumsy hands against drawers. His two cats are easy enough to maneuver around as well, seeing as one of them is trained well enough to not go on the counter, and to scream at the other one whenever it gets the bright idea of chasing you along the countertop. 

You’d been testing your new rope, tying it to all manner of things in the kitchen and letting yourself be slowly lowered off the edges of drawers, tables, counters… and hadn’t been bothering to keep your laughter at your successes quiet, nor the thuds of your tiny boots as you’d climbed up the edges of his walls and cabinets. 

Everything had been going so well that you’d somehow missed the sound of the bedroom door opening and the light in the hallway, and by the time you realized that something was amiss… was only due to clawed fingers wrapping around your waist and a soft coo of: “Oh, what do we have here?”

And now, here you are, dangling between his fingers from the rope you’d thought had been such a clever tool to get around the maze of his apartment. You can’t bring yourself to speak as you stare up at him meekly, the light reflecting off his glasses making his eyes seem cold and far away- near impossible to read. 

He hasn’t spoken since his initial greeting, if you can even call it that. All he’s done is stare at you with that coldness in his eyes, almost as if he’s calculating something- blinking every now and again, though it does nothing to set your mind at ease. If anything, it makes you feel worse, and when he opens his lips and finally speaks to you properly-

“Well. You should fit. This should be interesting.”

-it does nothing to calm your nerves. 

Before you can ask him what he means, the air is forced out of your lungs by him tugging on your little rope, effortlessly and haphazardly lifting you into the air above his face and leaving you to stare down at him in terrified disbelief. You’ve never met this human before, but from what you’ve gathered, there’s nothing too horrible about him. 

With your lower lip trembling, you look down into his deep brown eyes, searching for any trace of a joke or flickers of sympathy. 

What you receive in return is a toothy smirk. One that plays out almost in slow motion, leaving you helpless to watch as his lips curl away from his teeth, showing the gleaming, drool-slicked and sharp points lining his gums. Your heart starts racing at the sight of them, and again, you try to find your words- but you’re once again interrupted by something terrifying. 

Those teeth were bad enough on their own, but as you stare down at Christopher’s freckled face… they begin to part. 

A warm blast of air rises from the chasm opening beneath you and you find yourself unable to look away as the huge muscle of his tongue shifts- easily the size of a small mattress and just as cushioned- moving from one side of the pink and dripping cavern to the other. The surface of it flexes in waves, and you follow the muscle back toward the darkest pit in the back of his jaws- marked by a swinging uvula and a streamlined tunnel designed to cram anything it can fit inside down.

His throat flexes, and his whole mouth shifts at once- a mess of moving pieces and parts and flesh and teeth rearranging to allow him a soft swallow- and when it opens again, strings of drool connect the bottom of his jaws to the top like the bars of a prison cell. 

Unable to speak, your own mouth opens and closes as you watch his throat shift with his every breath, the idle motions of his tongue twitching and swaying as more and more saliva floods the cavern. 

You’re transfixed, though the spell breaks when his grip on your rope abruptly falters- sending you falling a few inches closer to the gaping maw with a scream. 

A laugh rolls over you in response, and you gasp, clutching the rope in your fingers despite the knot keeping you secure. You’re spinning now, watching the gullet beneath you pulse as you rotate, unable to keep yourself from noticing that it seems to be pulsing in anticipation, the tongue stretching out from between those lips as if to echo the sentiment. 

He’s going to eat you.

No. No, he won’t. 

Surely he won’t. 

Despite not being human, you think for a moment that you’ll be able to appeal to his sympathy, though when you manage to tear your gaze away from his maw to try looking into his eyes--

The rope slides easily through his fingers, and with a rush of air, you plummet- your scream being cut off and muffled by his tongue greeting you. It all but wraps around your sides, and you feel it constrict, pinning your arms to your torso as its owner tips his head back and allows you to fall backward into the cage of his mouth. 

You scream as the tongue folds over you greedily, drinking in your flavour and slathering you in thick saliva. The surface won’t stop moving beneath your hands- cushy and soft and speckled with taste buds that leave a faint bumpy texture pressing against your palms and fingers- though when he abruptly licks you again, you’re flipped onto your side, helpless to do anything but let his tongue squish tightly against your back. The muscle is hot and explorative, wasting no time in dragging its tip along your flailing limbs. 

Everything around you is hot and slick, but the more you fight against it, the more of his saliva seeps through your clothes, soaking your skin and causing you to slip around easily in the chasm of his mouth. A zigzag of light filtering between his teeth is the only way for you to see the warm pink of his tongue as it continues to effortlessly bat you and part of your flimsy rope around. 

It’s… so easy for him. 

So easy to treat you as nothing more than a sweet treat. You find yourself pushed against his fangs more than once, and each time, you suck in a sharp breath and wait for him to chew you to pieces- all the while trying to peer out past his lips for one more glance at the world you’re leaving behind.

You don’t get one. 

All your squirms earn you is more buffeting from the tongue, more hums of delight from the throat that you know is yawning wide behind you, but you don’t allow yourself to look at it, trying instead to drag yourself forward in the dripping mouth of the beast. You’re close. Your fingers reach the very edge of his gums and you strain to pull yourself up from his gullet even as you feel your legs brush the very edge of his throat.

A throat that twitches eagerly, the muscles there relaxing with a soft slrrrk of noise- and you yelp as you find yourself falling deeper into the squishy tube. 

“NO-”

The tongue that had been idly sloshing you around arches, filling his mouth and squeezing the air from your lungs in a strangled cry- though you don’t have time to be worried about that as you realize what the predator’s doing.

Swallowing. He’s swallowing. The gullet behind you lurches, a tiny hlrk and a bob of the muscles behind you causing you to throw your arms forward as gravity changes- but you’re too covered in saliva to get a grip on anything. Instead, you’re forced to feel his uvula drag across the back of your shoulders as he hums- the noise loud enough to make your chest feel like it’s buzzing. 

You’re squashed under his uvula entirely with another firm swallow, leaving you scrambling against the plush back of his tongue as you try to reach the swinging tab of flesh. Your fingers are tangled tightly in your rope, clutching it in utter desperation. It’s still holding fast. Still tied to something. 

You try to remember if you saw it caught between his molars or canines as you try to hoist yourself further up his gullet- barely able to even paw the backmost part of his tongue in your attempts to reach freedom. It’s still somewhat taut, taut enough that there’s hope…

…as light falls over you, you look up from the depths of his throat, for one fleeting moment allowing yourself to think that he’s about to cough you up. It must be a mistake. He seems like a kind enough man, and you shift your position slightly to see better, wiping a string of drool out of your face as a shadow falls over his jaws. 

His hand. 

And in his fingers…

No…

In his fingers, he’s lazily clutching the end of your rope. He holds it there with a soft chuckle, one that makes the throat around you ripple, before you watch his mouth start to relax as it closes for what you realize in terror is the final time.

“Wait- wait wait wait-!"

When he swallows, the walls of his throat clutch tight around you, rippling with a soft ulp that folds around you and tries to squeeze you down along with it. Your whole body jerks in place, being squashed tighter into the living tunnel before the rope pulls taut and forces you back up- which causes the muscles around you to quiver and the predator they belong to to hum. 

It’s absolutely deafening this close to his voicebox. 

You gasp as the slimy walls finally ease up, trembling at the sensation of something pressing at you from outside of your new prison. At first, you almost think you’re imagining it, but when the throat around you twitches in response to a firmer press, you realize those are fingers pressing against you from the outside. 

You can’t help but imagine yourself as a lump in Christopher’s throat. 

As you struggle harder, forcing your elbows out against the taunting squishes, in you mind’s eye, you see the small flutter of your movements settled just above his collarbone- the way you stretch the freckled skin and wriggle just beneath it- and as you tug on the rope in a desperate attempt to shimmy back up the way you came-

GLURK.

-the throat constricts tighter, and this time you can’t keep yourself from giving a yelp as you’re sucked further into Christopher’s esophagus- settled just beside his thudding heart. The walls of his gullet have grown tighter, as has the knot of the rope around your waist thanks to said walls hungrily rippling around you in an attempt to squeeze you deeper inside. Again, you struggle to haul yourself further up the rope that’s keeping you suspended in his chest. Your saliva slicked hands fumble to get a grip, and you curse yourself for not having tied too many knots in it before trying to use it out borrowing. In the pitch darkness of his throat, you can’t see much aside a very faint red- the light from outside only penetrating deep enough for you to see the faint outlines of the esophagus squeezing around you. 

Your rope is still being held snugly by the gullet’s walls, the red lifeline almost vanishing into the pulsing darkness, but you squint through the saliva running down your face just long enough to realize how far down you’ve been squeezed. Seeming miles of throat stretch above you, and a flicker of light from the top of the tunnel causes your heart to sink. On either side of you, you hear a rush of air filling your devourer’s lungs, and everything tightens as they fill with oxygen, preparing for another-

Gulp.

-for him, it must be nothing. Just soft and lazy bobs of his adam’s apple that allow your rope to fall deeper into the folds of his throat. You can almost imagine how faint the sound of him swallowing must be outside of the sweltering confines you’re in now- but you can’t quite cling to the illusion long enough to mute the disgusting squelch and ULLLLK that draw you deep enough to feel a distinct change in heat.

Heat from below you.

Heat coupled by the sound of an organic growl, and your heart grows cold despite the warmth of the predator surrounding you as you realize how close to the belly of the beast you’ve gotten.

You scramble against the soft walls, tugging on your slack rope more and more as the sound of gurgling grows louder beneath you. You can’t end up in his stomach. You won’t. You’re a borrower, you’re not-

Glmpk.

He swallows once more. 

Firmly. 

Firmly enough that you manage to look above you in terror, watching the tunnel of his throat constrict in a wave that rushes toward you in the dark, too fast for you to do anything but take a breath in before you’re squished firmly into the upper stomach sphincter. 

Then through it.

Your tiny form lands in his stomach with a wet plop.

The walls around you shudder with a gurgle of greeting, and above you, you hear a long and contented sigh breeze up from the throat you fought for your life not to get squeezed down- unable to keep yourself from envying the air for being able to get past his lips.

You’re not as lucky as the air. The stomach containing you groans in emphasis, the organ steadily starting to rock this way and that, the walls rippling inwards eagerly in what you realize are the beginnings of digestion. Your hands find the rope and you pull on it sharply, earning the sound of a muffled glp from above and the sensation of more and more of it pulling into his belly, coiling around you on the fleshy floor, gulp after gulp ushering it down, down…

The piece of yarn bobs momentarily at the back of Christopher’s throat, and it brushes the folds of flesh there as its pulled down his gullet. It isn’t fully soaked through with his saliva, not yet, and as he sits with his jaws open, he gulps, feeling it stick dryly in his throat- though he persists in his task anyway. 

With a few more short swallows, there’s no trace left of you at all. No rope dangles from between his lips. No shape wriggles in his throat, and as he trails a hand down to his comfortably full stomach… he grins at the realization that you fit so perfectly inside that you’ve completely vanished from the outside world. Not even a lump against his middle surfaces to show anyone where you’ve vanished to, and he purrs in delight, trailing his fingers over his middle and hiccuping suddenly when you squirm. 

“Oh, don’t worry.”

His voice rumbles around you, echoing over the sounds of digestion. One of the fleshy walls folds inward with a prod against you and you feel the tip of one of his claws massaging you into the lining. 

“I think I’m going to let my guts take their time with you… best get comfy in there.” 

[ltsmoving]

got a little hungry ;p