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toast-tales · 2 months

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Cursed Cravings: A retold, g/t story of Beauty and the Beast, with a sinister twist.

When he declines to help a beggar woman, wealthy aristocrat Christopher Penn was cursed to adopt a giant form with a terrible, monstrous burden, and the conditions to break the curse seem all but impossible. When a peasant girl, Danny, agrees to take her friend's place as Christopher's captive, he realizes that she may be the last hope of regaining his humanity and breaking the spell for good.

But who could ever care for a monster like him?

This will be an AU of ITWOM involving some familiar characters like Christopher, Danny, Sam, and Nathan - but you don't have to have read the main story to read this one. Lots of things will be changed around, so for all intents and purposes, these aren't the characters you know.

This story will contain g/t, angst, and soft/safe vore later down the road. It's still going to be a lighter read than ITWOM, but be warned nonetheless! This isn't the Beauty and the Beast story you know from Disney.

Read Chapter 1 below:

Chapter 1: Dark Night of the Soul

Contains: ~2k words | Read this story on A03!

It was a night like many others, the night that Christopher Penn's life was changed forever.

A deluge had begun that evening, torrential rain bearing down upon the land with fierce strikes of lightning and thunder rattling the large windows of the mansion—but all this meant for Christopher and his guests was that they wouldn't be able to enjoy the garden out back, and their merriment was restricted to the large indoor space. The music still swelled and filled the air pleasantly, rising above the sounds of the storm outside and making it easy for the partygoers to forget how unpleasant it was outside the walls of Christopher's house.

The host in question flitted from person to person throughout the evening, engaging in the usual small talk and jokes, an easy and charming smile lighting up his face and those of the people he met with. He was a gracious and charismatic host, always making sure that his parties were the grandest, with his guests never wanting for anything. The people in attendance would speak highly of his events, of the balls and the dinner parties, that he was so keen to host.

On the surface, Christopher seemed rather at ease, full of a charm and grace that would be befitting of someone from a wealthy family. But his actions were all surface level—each word and step he took was carefully choreographed and planned in advance. He was terrified, truly—each person he brought into his home was a potential ally, a potential for advancing his status, but they were also a potential seed to his own destruction.

Christopher had spent every day since his parents had passed rebuilding his family's reputation among the nobility. He could see past their charm—they despised his parents, and in turn, they despised him. His own reputation—the very thing that allowed him to live in such comforts still, to have any amount of power and social standing at all—was fragile and tenuous, and every interaction he had, no matter how seemingly insignificant it was, was an attempt to maintain its strength.

And so, while he seemed completely comfortable in this element, there was a latent anxiety in Christopher, hidden well beneath the surface.

He almost didn’t hear the knock at the door at first, wrapped up as he was in conversation. But his manservant rushed to his side, rather insistently dragging him away.

“I’m sorry, Chris, she just won’t leave without speaking to you.” Sam’s stride was brisk, and they gave Christopher no choice but to follow. He offered a quick and profuse apology to the noblewoman he’d been entertaining before he caught up to Sam.

“You’re not able to send her away?” Christopher hissed, somewhat tersely. “I can’t be interrupted by every stranger that shows up here. I have guests to attend to.”

“Hey, I tried!” Sam insisted. “I’m just one guy, and I also have guests of yours to attend to. She keeps coming back. All she wants is a quick word with you. Just humor her, and she’ll be out of your hair.” Sam ran their fingers somewhat anxiously through their own well-groomed locks. “We can just deal with it quietly, before she causes a scene. Some of the guests near the front door are getting a little antsy about it.”

Christopher sighed wearily as he followed Sam to the main entrance. Perhaps if he had more staff, this wouldn’t be a problem. Most of the house’s staff had left in the fallout of his parents’ demise, with the sole exception being Sam—his personal servant who’d remained as doggedly loyal to him as they had the first day they’d been assigned to care for him. He’d never let on to his guests, but Christopher worked with Sam every day to keep the house in order, even helping cook the meals and clean. He had to keep up appearances as best he could.

Sam pulled the grand front door open to reveal a woman on the other side—a pauper in beggar’s clothes, tattered and rain-soaked, hunched on his front stoop as she gazed up at Christopher.

Christopher stood up straight and directed a cold, stern look towards the woman. He could feel several sets of eyes on him, and knew that there was a group of aristocrats watching the scene intently. He adjusted the cuffs of his sleeves idly as he spoke, as if he couldn’t be bothered to pay attention to the woman at all.

“I’m afraid you will have to leave. I have no room for beggars here.”

The woman shivered slightly, tilting her head up further to meet Christopher’s face. Her eyes were wide and glassy, her face lined with creases from age and stress. “P-please, kind sir, I only need to come in from the storm for a short while. I won’t be any trouble. I…I haven’t eaten in days-”

The people nearby began to whisper, a touch of disgust coloring their tone.

“This is an exclusive event,” Christopher interjected firmly. “There is a certain decorum that must be maintained. Please leave, or I will contact the authorities to escort you away.”

If he had been at home alone that evening, he might have afforded some manner of small comfort towards the woman. But he couldn’t be seen sullying his hands with the poor here.

A pleading, desperate look came to the woman’s face, her features falling into despair. “Sir, I will not survive the night!” Her voice was hoarse and rough, as if sandpaper scraped against the inside of her throat. “You would turn me away, to the mercy of the storm?”

Her cries had gotten louder—more of his guests had turned to look and whisper among themselves, casting uncertain and hesitant glances Christopher’s way. He didn’t need to hear them to know what they were all saying.

What kind of place is this, where the host entertains beggars?

He is no better than his parents, mingling with such filth.

He doesn’t belong here.

He is not one of us.

He set his jaw and made his stance firm, his dark eyes fixed sharply down at the beggar. He couldn’t let this go on further. “Leave. Your welfare is not my concern.”

The woman’s face became suddenly sharper, each crease and wrinkle fading to a more youthful visage, and her muddy, round eyes transformed to piercing, golden ones. She no longer hunched, but stood straight up, rising to a height that forced even Christopher to look up in awestruck terror.

“THEN YOU WILL HAVE BLOOD ON YOUR HANDS, CHRISTOPHER PENN.”

Her tattered clothes transformed to flowing white robes upon her dark skin, her hair now falling in neat and lovely braids down her back, adorned with gold.

She cast a scornful, acidic gaze towards Christopher as she looked down on him, each fiber of her being radiating with malice.

His heart stopped beating—the entire world seemed to have gone silent, save for the strikes of thunder that almost seemed to accentuate every word this woman spoke. Her voice boomed with an unnatural volume throughout the entire hall. He didn’t need to turn around to know that every single person in attendance had heard.

He did his best to hide the quaking in his limbs. He couldn’t lose his composure, even now. “Who are you?” he asked, his voice escaping as nothing but a whisper.

The woman scowled at him, her expression one of pure poison. He could feel himself withering beneath it, despite all his efforts to keep calm.

“You would not remember me, for the faces you entertain here are simply passing flights of fancy to you. I was your guest, Penn. And I saw past your charm. You use people for your own gain, grasping onto what little power you have like a pathetic child, desperate to rise above your place in the world.”

She pointed an accusing finger towards him. “You have a vile, black heart, so cruel that you would send a woman away to her death when she asks for but a little kindness.”

“Hey!” Sam spoke up, a little timidly beside Christopher. “You can’t talk about him like-”

“SILENCE.” A loud strike of thunder shook the entire house, rattling the foundation and carrying the woman’s voice to the ears of every patron once again. A blistering wind tore through the open door, making the curtains tremble in its wake.

Christopher thought that something seemed familiar about the woman—he felt as though he could recall a conversation with her, and she surely must have been at one of his parties. He searched for a name desperately, frantically wracking his brain for this woman’s identity.

“...Sybil?” he croaked, every ounce of confidence having long since left his body. His knees began to tremble, and he worried that they would soon give out completely. “Y-you may come in, I am so very sorry to have offended-”

“You have already failed, Penn. Now you repent, for you see my true form, and the power I wield.” Her eyes narrowed dangerously. “Your fate has already been sealed.”

The world was swallowed in darkness within only the span of a moment, and the screams of Christopher’s guests and Sam became drowned out by an all-encompassing blackness that surrounded him, choking the air from his lungs, squeezing his ribcage until he thought he would burst from the pressure. He could not speak, he could not move, he could not see. If not for the excruciating pain shooting through every fiber of his being, he would have thought he was dead.

“You will no longer hide behind your tawdry facade. A monster within, so a monster you shall become.”

Sybil’s voice came from all around him, like a harsh winter wind that froze the blood in his veins as it passed over him. Her words had weight to them, laden with something powerful, and far beyond this world’s understanding.

His body was changing, but in what manner, he had no way to tell. All he could feel was pain—pain and a clawing hunger, like an animal inside of his stomach ripping and tearing at the flesh within, desperate to break out. His head throbbed as sounds swirled in his mind, indistinguishable from each other as they rose into a crescendo of noise, and the silence turned to a deafening cacophony. Voices, screams, shouting, but no words he could make out. He thought that he could hear Sam, amidst all the chaos, but he couldn’t be sure.

And then, before the darkness of his vision cleared to reveal the full extent of the horror that awaited him, he was assaulted by the wave of a strong smell he couldn’t place, a scent that filled his lungs and made the desperate animal within his gut writhe and twist in agony. It was like the scent of the finest wine, the most tantalizing food in existence, in such a great amount that it was overwhelming—even though, in those few moments of blissful ignorance, he had no idea what it was that delighted his senses so, that made the pain almost forgotten, that made every bone of his ache with an almost feral hunger.

His eyes opened with frantic urgency, and the scene before him unfolded slowly into a horrifyingly clear depiction of the gruesome fate that had been thrust upon him. He could barely see the faces of the ones he’d invited here, but their frightened screams spoke loudly enough. No words came to his own mouth—he was frozen in horror, like an insect trapped in amber as the weight of what happened sunk in, pressing down upon him like a suffocating, terrible gravity.

Despite his transformation, Sybil’s words rang as clear in his head as they had before.

“Ten years, Penn. Ten years to prove yourself, or this form will be your prison.”

* * * * * * * * * *

Next Chapter ->

Thanks for reading! I hope to update this story semi-consistently, because boy do I have some things planned down the road. So stay tuned!

#cursed cravings #itwom #g/t writing #g/t stories #g/t angst #vore stories #vore writing #g/t vore #gt vore #safe vore #soft vore #sfw vore #toast arts #beauty and the beast au #please click for the full quality of the image LOL #tumblr killed all the pixels and I'm very proud of those pixels :(

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cowardlysimon · 11 months

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I REFUSE TO DRAW VORE OF THIS MAN WITH ANYONE BUT THE LEGO‼️

Mostly cuz I don't like him (I mean in yknow a fan boy kinda way. Idk. He just doesn't appeal to me. My type is more uhhhh. Well not him)

they are so silly

can you tell I enjoy drawing internals lmao

I love this Lego, guy :3

OH BECAUSE I'VE BEEN OBSSESED WITH THIS MOVIE AND READING EVERYONE'S COMICS

silly Miguel, facts

his fangs are venomous and will paralyze you if he bites you

He's addicted to drugs. (Bane, 2)(also specifically something called rapture.)

Only reason he is "Spiderman," is cuz he accidentally gave himself powers since that one mf sabatoged his shit and now he's got spider DNA

He can't even stick to walls or use his Spidey, sense his ass is NOT Spiderman,

I'm too sleepy to explain more

so uhh

See ya.

fukc this dude for chasing a whole baby over nothing man.

😭😭😭

hologram ass clothes

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voraciousvore · 16 days

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Giganterra (Chapter 10)

Prologue/ TOC | Previous (9) | Next (11)

Content Warning: NSFW/ 18+!! Nonconsensual sex and vore (soft and safe)

Word Count: 3.5k

------ Chapter 10: A Full Belly ------

King Richard Hardon casually sauntered off to his private quarters, accompanied by his shadow, Ajax. The four women remaining in the cage—Candy, Jackie, Eren, and Addison—trembled as his giant form loomed over them. He didn’t break his gaze as he burned with hunger and lust. In particular, he kept returning to Candy. Eren was pretty enough, Jackie was plain, and Addison was too twiggy for his preferences, but Candy was perfect. He drank in the delicious sight of her big boobs, shapely body, and dainty features. He couldn’t wait to sink his teeth into her and taste her.

He climbed the stairs to his personal wing of the castle. Ajax stood guard at the door while the king entered his chambers. The room was dominated by a huge and luxurious bed with a sturdy wooden canopy frame that stretched from floor to ceiling. The bed was furnished with curtains of rich purple silk that matched the sheets. King Richard set the cage on his bed and sat down alongside it while his personal servant undressed him. Once his cumbersome outer layers of formal clothes were removed, leaving him in a soft linen undershirt and braies, he dismissed his servant so he was alone with his human prey.

The humans quivered with fear as their little confined lifeboat wallowed in a sea of purple silk. Every time the giant shifted on the mattress, they could feel the influence of his immense mass bobbing their iron boat on the silky sea, the springs of the mattress creaking and popping under his weight. He sighed with contentment, as deep as a gale of wind in a storm, as he propped up his back on a plush mountain of pillows and stretched his enormous legs out like mountain ranges of hairy living flesh. The women shirked back at the sight, submerged in raw terror. Would this be their grave as the giant slaughtered them one by one, sinking them into the crushing darkness of his throat and drowning them in his stomach? He placed the cage in between his outstretched legs, right up to his crotch, with a smirk.

“Miiiiilllliiieeee, darling! I’m back!” the king sang. He pulled aside one of the curtains to access the adjacent nightstand, which had a small glass enclosure on top. There was a human-sized bed, couch, and dresser inside, but compared to the giant room the furnishings looked like they were made for a doll. The tiny woman inside presented like a doll as well, with striking blue eyes reminiscent of marbles, fine blonde hair, and a slim, modest figure in a light dress. She had noticeable bags under her eyes, bruised with fatigue. The giant reached into her terrarium and scooped the woman out with his hand.

“Oh, so lovely to see you, Your Majesty!” Millie responded. Although she injected a positive inflection into her voice, there was a distinct note of pure despair that bled through. She was not happy to see him, not at all. She relished the few moments she had alone, when she wasn’t forced to be anywhere near the giant king, whether she was riding in his pocket or his belly, and she resented the interruption.

King Richard didn’t seem to notice her sorrow or care, however. He brought her up to his lips and gave her a sensual kiss that included rubbing his tongue over her exposed skin and even gently nibbling her with his teeth. She cringed, especially when his teeth gnawed on her breasts, but didn’t verbally protest. Her eyes watered with tears.

“Aren’t you going to kiss me back, sweetie?” Hardon questioned. His words were saccharine, but laced with the undercurrent of a threat. Millie whimpered softly before reciprocating with a small peck on his lower lip. His lips peeled back into a smug smile that turned her stomach.

“Oh, Millie, darling! How I adore thee!” the giant cooed, nuzzling her limp body with his nose. “Look, I brought you some new friends!” Millie’s frown deepened as the giant held her towards the cage so she could see the others. Jackie’s heart broke as she saw the poignant sadness etched into her expression. Millie gave them all a look of pained sympathy, cursed with the knowledge of what was to come.

King Richard hummed happily as he dropped Millie onto the wide expanse of his belly. She didn’t try to run: She knew there was no point, and she’d never escape him. He gripped the cage in his fingers, opened the door, and wormed his giant hand inside. The women shrieked and clambered to avoid him as their world rapidly morphed into a living nightmare, but he easily pinched Jackie between his fingers and tugged her out.

“No!” she cried. “Please don’t eat me!” The king sneered at her pleas. He obtained a vial of glowing blue fluid and dripped a single drop on her head. She shivered as the mysterious liquid was absorbed into her body. “W-what was that?” she stuttered.

Hardon didn’t bother to explain. He loved it when his prey was frightened and thrashed in his gut, unaware of the effects of the magical potion that prevented digestion. “Hm. Your looks leave something to be desired,” he remarked, squishing her face between his index finger and thumb. Despite the situation, Jackie deflated a bit with his insult. The king played with her in his hand, feeling up her body as she squirmed, and cocked an eyebrow. “Let’s see how you look without that dress.”

“What? No!” Hardon plucked at her fine dress and tore it off with ease. Jackie gasped, reflexively trying to cover up her nudity. The king grinned, stroking her up and down with his finger. She turned a ghastly pale shade as he raised the small naked woman up to his lips. “Stop!”

She tried to kick him, but instead the giant caught her legs in his mouth and slurped half her body inside. She shrieked with terror. His lips curved into a leer as he sampled her exquisite flavor, clearly enjoying himself. Jackie clawed at his face as she was slowly sucked further and further inside, up to her belly, then her chest, then her neck, so only her head was poking out. She felt his enormous tongue wrapping around her body, sliding all over her skin as she was enveloped in heat and wetness. His teeth teased her, kneading her back and chest with the alarming reminder that he could bite down at any time and end her life.

Jackie screamed, but she was cut off as her head was lapped into his mouth with the rest of her. The remaining group watched with terror as the giant’s lips and cheeks smacked and pulsed with movement, as he shuffled her around in his mouth. He paused and gave a full swallow, sighing with pleasure as her body slid down his throat. His neck throbbed as her small body passed through, to the horror of the other humans. Millie shuddered as his belly gurgled and filled out slightly underneath her. His crotch, too, bulged with arousal.

“Mmmmm, what a treat,” Hardon praised, licking his lips. His gaze settled on the cage, his pale eyes flashing with ravenous energy. “Who’s next?” He reached his hand out again, sending his victims into pandemonium as they bounced off each other like ping pong balls. He snagged Eren and dragged her out by her leg, kicking and screaming as she swung upside-down in his grasp.

“You repulsive ogre! Let go of me!” she shouted, brandishing her fist.

The giant king chuckled. “Mouthy, aren’t you? Perfect. I like my girls with some spunk.” He flipped her around and slapped her into his palm as she swore at him with venom. A drop of liquid fell on her head and absorbed into her body like a sponge, making her tingle with an odd cooling effect. Another drop splashed on her neck, but this one was an entirely different substance, warm and wet and smelly, and Eren realized with disgust that it was saliva dripping from the giant’s greedy maw.

Eren was filled with a white-hot rage as he began to tear at the stitching on the back of her dress with his fingertips. She felt helpless as she pushed against the folds of his palm with her hands, with no result. Her dress ripped at the seams and she felt his hot breath on her bare back as his face hovered over her. He ogled her figure with pleasure and gently ran the thick tip of his finger over her exposed shoulder blades and down her spine. Eren wanted to scream.

With no other option available, Eren did the only thing she could think to do and bit the crease of his hand as hard as she could. The king let out a gasp of surprise as her teeth sank into his skin; his hold on her loosened enough for her to wriggle out of his grip. She took a wild leap of faith and jumped out of his hand, falling until she landed on his broad chest and tumbled down to his belly. Despite her disorientation, she scrambled to regain her footing on the squishy surface and sprinted away blindly as fast as possible, shoving Millie out of the way in the process. Her tattered dress was disintegrating, leaving her torso fully exposed as the ripped top dropped around her waist. She tripped over the bottom half of the cumbersome garment and ended up with her face buried in fabric. Before she could get up, she felt pressure from the pads of two gigantic fingers cinch her hips and she was thrust into the air swiftly enough to make her nauseous.

“Nice try,” the king taunted, “but there’s no escaping me, you naughty little vixen.” He grasped the lacy hem of her dress and ripped the whole thing off with a flick of his wrist. His lustful eyes raked her naked form up and down as she persisted in fruitless struggle. His stomach growled and he raised her up to the wide expanse of his lips. Eren shuddered as the giant pair of pink lips parted like the curtains on a stage, revealing teeth draped in strands of saliva and moist darkness beyond. Eren cried out as the fingers forced her inside and the jaws closed around her, extinguishing the light.

Just like with Jackie, the humans could do nothing but observe helplessly as the wriggling lump that was once recognizable as a person shifted from cheek to cheek. Candy fancied, at one point, she could even see the outline of a tiny hand pressing out against the skin, desperate for an escape. The king tilted his head back, allowing the tasty woman to slide into his gullet, before contracting his throat muscles in a mighty gulp. He traced Eren’s path through his esophagus with his finger, letting out a soft moan of pleasure as she passed into his stomach. Millie cringed as his belly expanded and twitched beneath her with a raucous grumble.

“Ahhhhh...” the giant sighed, rubbing his belly with his hand. “I can feel them squirming inside, can’t you Millie?” He grinned at her expectantly, and she gave a small nod, her eyes swimming with tears. Without any more preamble, he reached into the cage and snatched up his next living snack, Addison. She didn’t make a sound, only flailing weakly in his fingers, as if too frail to properly resist. The king frowned with mild dissatisfaction as he examined her, picking at her feeble, matchstick limbs and rotating her in his hand.

Hardon huffed. “Why would that lunkhead Chester approve this?” he mumbled. He stripped her clothes off, the grooves in his face deepening with his disgust. “She’s too thin. In fact, she’s half-starved.” He gave her a probing lick, causing her to whine with fear. “She doesn’t even taste that good.” Addison shivered, covered in spit.

“Well, whatever.” The king dripped the magic anti-digestion potion on her head. “Down the hatch you go.” He dangled her over his mouth and nonchalantly dropped her inside. She squealed like a butchered pig as she disappeared into the void. Unlike with the others, the king didn’t toss her around in his mouth, instead opting to swallow her right away. Even though he considered the offering mediocre, he still smiled and massaged his belly with his hands as she joined the others in his increasingly full stomach, which gurgled noisily with the addition of fresh meat. “Not too bad, I suppose.”

A bolt of electricity jolted through Candy as his wolfish eyes turned to her with avaricious yearning. “One more.” She scrambled to get away, pressing herself against the bars as if believing she could morph into a gelatinous ooze and miraculously squeeze through. His fingers pinched around her and pulled her out. He lifted her high in the air, bringing her in close to his face to admire her. Candy, roiling in terror, started to cry.

“P-please... let me go...” she wailed pathetically, pushing against his fingertips.

The giant man ignored her as he devoured her delectable flesh with his eyes. After placing a drop of the magic potion on her head, he began to take off her clothes, unwrapping her like a special present until she was displayed to him in all her feminine glory. “Beautiful,” he murmured, tracing his finger down her side. Candy trembled as he explored her curvaceous body with his huge fingers: bouncing her breasts; sliding up and down her thighs, inside and out; sensually touching her narrow waist, slim belly, and cute little backside. His lips parted with carnal passion as he leaned forward, closer and closer, over her and all around her with his overwhelming mass. She was bathed in humid breath.

“You’re perfect,” he said reverently, almost in a whisper. “Oh lord... and I haven’t even tasted you yet...” His mouth watered with anticipation. He drew her in closer to his open lips, his tongue emerging like a primordial beast from the cavernous depths. Candy whimpered as the huge tongue slid over her frontal form, from her feet to her chin, bathing her in saliva. The king moaned with pleasure and continued to lick her like a lollipop all over, in all her sweet spots, waxing with gluttonous lust.

As he tasted and teased her, he was overcome with erotic sensory overload and his hand slid down into his shorts. Millie sat dumbly on her plush belly perch, trying to block out everything that was happening around her and praying that the giant had forgotten about her as he moaned louder and jerked himself off. He began to nibble Candy with his lips, bringing her further and further into his mouth with every stroke of his lips and tongue. Candy struggled, but she couldn’t fight him as she was finally pulled over the threshold of his teeth.

She cried out as the teeth closed around her and she was completely engulfed in the soggy inside of the giant’s mouth, surrounded by walls of bone rimmed with gums, with a fleshy tongue below and curved palate above. The tongue continued to wrestle her down, throwing her about, pressing her against the teeth, dragging her underneath into the hot meaty bowl full of drool below, weighing her down in a suffocating embrace. At the base of the maw, she could feel his blood pulsing through his veins in an excited rush. His moans of pleasure rumbled the stale air around her.

The tongue scooped her back up and to her horror she found herself sliding back, towards the foreboding gullet that provided ingress to the throat. She screamed and tried to surge forward, but the tongue reared up and forced her backwards. Her feet sank into the precipitous drop below, and the throat muscles clamped down on her and dragged her under. She only had a moment to desperately claw at the squishy tongue before she was sucked into the abyss.

Candy’s scream was choked out as the swallowing motion crushed the wind from her lungs. She sank down a terrifying distance, smashed on all sides, as the deafening boom of the giant’s heartbeat and breathing vibrated through his flesh. She struggled as panic consumed her rational mind, but the powerful esophagus clenched her so tightly that she couldn’t even push back, with her arms folded against her chest. Suddenly, her legs broke free and she wriggled them wildly as she was squeezed through a ring of muscle.

She fell through open space into a lake of hot acid. The gastric fluid churned and bubbled around her with rhythmic motions from the wrinkled stomach walls, groaning and rumbling loudly as the stomach worked to digest its contents. Something snapped inside Candy’s mind at the sight and she flipped out, thrashing wildly in a futile effort to escape. She punched and kicked the walls and floundered as she was stirred in the current. She accidentally elbowed something soft that let out a squeak of pain.

“Ouch! Watch it!” Eren hissed. Candy turned to behold Eren floating alongside her in the boiling juices. She looked scared, furious, and disheveled, but what caught Candy’s attention was that her skin was glowing softly, like a paper lantern. Candy glanced down and realized her hands and arms were glowing too, with an ethereal light that weakly illuminated the hollow cavity around them. She was even more baffled, disoriented, and shaken up than before. She didn’t understand why any of this was happening, and she was terrified of dying.

“We need to get out of here!” she screeched, pummeling the squishy innards more. She bumped into Addison, who was huddled up like a lost child and sobbing uncontrollably. Jackie, too, was somewhere inside the stomach, her haunted howls of despair echoing in the fleshy chamber as she fought her gastric confinement.

Candy lost it. She wailed and cried and bemoaned what a fool she had been, to think she even had a chance to be with the giant knight who was supposedly fated to be her lover. She should’ve never listened to that fortune teller, the deceitful old hag. She never expected something so horrible to happen to her, and now she was going to die because of her own stupidity. She wasn’t ready. She couldn’t accept her failure. Her sanity slipped away as she continued to lash out, embroiled in a flood of negative emotions: regret, pain, sadness, anger, defeat, and above all, terror.

On the outside, King Richard belched with satisfaction and patted his engorged belly, which was quite full after being stuffed with four tasty maidens. He enveloped Millie, who was shaking, gently in his palm and pressed her firmly into the fat of his belly. “Can you hear them in there?” he asked her with a devious chuckle.

Millie replied with a small nod. His stomach twitched and groaned with all the struggling going on inside. She could hear, muted by the thick walls of meat, tortured screams and loud squelches as the multitude of tiny prey panicked inside, not yet understanding that they were at least safe from digestion. She pushed against the giant’s belly with her palms, trying to pull away, but the giant king simply pressed her harder into his body, his belly jiggling as he laughed cruelly. Tears ran down her cheeks. She knew their pain all too well, having been ingested by the evil giant too many times to count.

“There’s room for one more,” Hardon teased, tapping his belly with the fingers of his opposite hand. Millie trembled with dread as the color sapped out of her face.

“No... anything but that...” she whimpered.

“Well then. You know what I want you to do.” The pressure on her let up as the giant loosened his hand. Millie let out a shaky sigh and wiped her eyes with her forearm. She crawled on rubbery limbs down the curve of his belly, towards his groin. She could clearly see how sexually stimulated he was from devouring the tiny women, with his enormous erection rising above her head, dwarfing her. With another heavy sigh, and a sick twisting in her guts, Millie slid under the waistband of his braies to access the tall pillar within.

King Richard reclined on his bed with sublime pleasure, folding his arms behind his head and closing his eyes. He moaned with satisfaction and shifted his legs while his hard cock was stroked up and down by tiny hands and limbs as Millie performed for him. He also thoroughly enjoyed the ceaseless squirming in his gut. Fresh prey was the best, with how lively and terrified they were. A smile graced his lips as he thought about his favorite new addition to his collection, the big-breasted blonde lady. She was both delicious and beautiful. As much as he adored Millie, he thought to himself that this new girl might be his favorite now. He would tame her, break her, and make her his own. She would be his forever.

Chapter 11

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awfullordhenry · 2 months

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POV: You're the last piece of fried chicken in a KFC bucket

#team fortress 2 #tf2 #team fortress two #tf2 scout #team fortress scout #giant tiny #giant #g/t fluff #g/t #tf2 g/t #sfw g/t #gt vore

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vore-scientist · 3 months

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this may be unusual but i really like vore that is safe and fatal simultaneously. by that I mean, for whatever reason, there is prey that is safe fro digestion, mingling with prey that is BEING digested.

Maybe the safe prey ENJOYS this, either it was an enemy or they are just a pred stuck in a prey's body and their pred best friend lets them have front row seats

Or its HORRIFYING for the prey, maybe they know why they are spared, or maybe they dont. either way. its horrific.

Maybe they are even ambivalent to it, just like meh, guess my friend had to eat something/someone and didnt bother to get me out first.

thanks for coming to my ted talk/

Oh bonus, i've talked about this before but something similar I love is safe prey going treasure hunting after other prey is digested. getting valuables or bones and such :D

#safe vore #fatal vore #vore talk #gt vore #this is gt vore for me by default

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princesaltines · 5 months

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"Did you... Did you just hiccup?" .... "I'll take that as a compliment"

#i was given BRAINWORMS #by my fRIEND #whomst i love dearly #and the brainworms ATE MY BRAIN #i animated this in a little less than two days #aUGHG #silly vore stuffs!!!#hiccups r underrated #extreme cuddling #soft vore #safe vore #g/t vore #giant/tiny vore #stomach #gt vore #vore animation #animation #they draw

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makothegayyburrito · 25 days

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Vore prompts: #4

I just think it would be cute, like, if preys had jobs where they were basically they provide comfort/support services to preds with bad anxiety and or depression. Like, the prey would have a little vest that read (on duty/on the job) when they volunteered for their job to be nommed as a way to give preds a bit of anxiety relief. Like, for preds that like to have a little more comfort and the small weight of some one within them to help them through their daily stresses. Any easy job but great results

✨Service Snacks✨

#sfw vore #g/t vore #gt vore #safe vore #vore prompts #vore ideas #soft vore #size difference #sfw v0re #extreme cuddling

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nom-central · 2 months

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"Urph...oof, maybe that was too many." He looked down at the tiny he had pressed into his stomach, listening to and feeling the squirms and protests of their friends that came before them. He didn't intend on indulging as much as he had- just one treat after a long day of work would've normally sufficed, but he just so happened to come across a morsel with friends, and...

His stomach at least was quite pleased with the arrangement. His fitted suit however, was not. It was tight around his full belly, buttons straining to stay together while his snacks squirmed unhappily inside. It was more of a meal at this point, but they tasted so good...

Stifling another quiet burp, he studied the anxious tiny under his hand. "Maybe one more...it'd be a crime to waste something so delicious. Don't worry! You'll be meeting back up with your friends real soon!" Before they could react he lifted them up and shoved them in their mouth. He didn't spend as much time with tasting them as the others- there was no need to tease the last one left! He tilted his head back, pulling his collar back as he gulped them down and sighed. His stomach gurgled contentedly as it accepted another tiny, and his hands immediately moved to it to massage it. If they kept squirming like that he'd feel sore...but for now, the bliss of feeling full was worth it.

#v0re #soft vore #safe vore #extreme cuddling #unwilling prey #gt vore #multiple prey #male pred #vore drabble #written between two big fics bc im in a gt mood and i wanna be boy dinner

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fubardish · 9 months

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Silly little comic I did with borrower kubes aka my borrower sona. I imagine that MobFlams can easily summon his shadows even in his tum and that can make up for some weird scenario's

I wish I know how to continue this, maybe one day :>

#my art #vore mention #vore art #G/t vore #soft vore #safe vore #sfw vore #nonsexual vore #v0re #stomach shot #GT vore #giant/tiny vore #extreme cuddling

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toast-tales · 6 months

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Christopher's First Time

A look into the life of a 15-year-old Christopher, and what it was like for him to meet his first ever human. Not sure if I'll continue this later, but I wanted to share what I had so far.

Contains: language, anxiety/panic, vague mentions of domestic violence/verbal abuse, and unwilling but safe vore. About 4.3k words.

13 Years Ago

He could hear the rough, uneven steps coming down the hall, instantly recognizable. Every nerve in his body twitched, suddenly on high alert, though outwardly, his body didn’t betray any sign of distress.

His eyes darted over to the clock next to his bed, nestled on the windowsill. Six o’ clock, right on schedule. It was a routine. Get home from work, watch TV, get surly and wasted. It was always a gamble whether or not Christopher’s door would get thrown open so his dad could “check up” on him. Not that his dad cared enough to ask how he was doing in school or anything—he usually just needed something to yell at.

Christopher lost focus on the book he was reading, and no matter how many times his eyes scanned the words, nothing stuck anymore. The pages started to swim together in his mind. His fingers gripped the edge of the book a little tighter, and his heart began to beat in his ears a little louder.

The footsteps got closer, taking the same path through the house he’d committed to memory. They stopped just outside of his door, and Christopher held his breath, waiting for the sound of his doorknob turning and the inevitable, senseless berating.

But then his father continued down the hall, as if he’d simply lost interest in Christopher altogether. And from the sound of it, he’d simply found a new target for the anger—something in the kitchen that hadn’t gotten cleaned properly.

He wished he could block out the sound of his parents arguing back and forth, but his ears picked up each word clearly, even through the walls. He grimaced, tossing the book down onto his bed and drawing his knees in to his chest, trying desperately to cover his ears.

Every fucking night. Why can’t he just shut the fuck up.

He hadn’t eaten dinner yet, and he was sure at this rate it was going to be forgotten about again. If he went out there to check, he’d just get yelled at.

Perhaps it was because he was so hungry, but a scent caught his nose—faint at first, then stronger, until it almost assaulted his senses completely. His head snapped up—he recognized the scent. He’d only ever smelled traces of it on his father, but he knew what it meant.

Human?

But this wasn’t a mere trace of a human’s scent—this was an actual human, close by. His head swiveled around until his eyes landed on where his nose led.

There, on the floor across from where he sat on his bed, was a human. An honest-to-goodness human, staring at him with wide eyes and frozen in place.

There were a multitude of things that ran through his head in that moment, but the one that seemed to take precedence was I can’t let him catch me with drugs in here.

Without thinking, he swung his legs off the side of the bed and landed on the floor, mindful of his weight distribution to keep his footfalls silent. The human, upon seeing his sudden movement, gave a tiny yelp, its entire body tense and ready to dart away.

Christopher held up his hands reflexively as he crouched down, as if to calm a wild animal. I’m not going to hurt you.

Now that he could get a better look at it, he found himself studying the strange creature rather intently. He knew that humans looked sort of like miniature giants, like dolls, but he’d never anticipated the resemblance to be so…uncanny in real life. This one seemed to be male, with short brown hair and sharp features. He looked rather…unkempt, for lack of a better word. His clothes were tattered and worn, and he seemed to be covered in dirt and grime. His hair stuck out at messy angles—clearly, this human had had other things to worry about besides his appearance.

He didn’t look at all like the few humans he’d seen in movies. Those had always been made to look perfect—if they were real at all, and not fake replicas. This one looked like he’d just finished wrestling a rat out in the wild.

The human took a step backwards, but he didn’t run—Christopher could tell the human’s focus was split between him and the loud shouting going on a few rooms down. The sound made the human wince—it likely seemed much scarier to someone only a few inches tall.

Whatever the reason, Christopher was glad the human hadn’t dashed away yet. He kept his voice low and quiet, though he knew it was unlikely his parents could hear him with the volume of their own “discussion.”

“Hey. It’s okay.” Christopher slowly lowered his hands, though he didn’t move any closer. He spoke slowly and deliberately, though he didn’t think the human would be able to understand his words. “I’m a friend.”

The human’s eyes remained wide-open and full of fear. He almost looked nauseous as he looked Christopher up and down, his posture only relaxing slightly.

Finally, though, the human spoke up timidly. “Y-y-you’re fucking huge, man.”

Christopher’s eyes widened a bit, his head tilted in curiosity. “I didn’t realize humans spoke English.”

The human seemed just as confused as Christopher was, though his eyes kept darting back and forth towards the sound of his father’s yelling.

“Don’t worry about him,” Christopher muttered, a bit of resentment coloring his tone. “It’s just my dad. I’m not going to hurt you. I’m just…what are you doing here?”

“I…uh…” The human seemed to shrink further into himself. “I snuck in,” he squeaked. “I nearly got killed trying to make it out there,” he said, gesturing towards the window, “and um…figured I’d take my chances with the house. I’m sorry, I didn’t—”

Christopher hurriedly made a shushing sound as the human’s voice increased in pitch. “Keep it down,” he hissed, though he tried to keep his voice gentle so as to not scare the human more than he already seemed to be. “I don’t want my dad to hear you.”

“Right, right…” The human seemed to take a few deep breaths, calming himself, before he stood up a little straighter. He tried to speak confidently, though there was still a healthy amount of wariness about him. “I’m Joey. What’s your name?”

Christopher wasn’t sure why he was surprised that the human had a name—he’d just never thought about it that way before. He found himself blinking a few times before answering. “I’m Christopher.”

“You’re…what, a teenager, right? You look pretty young.”

“I’m fifteen.”

“Uh-huh.” Joey jumped at the sound of what seemed to be breaking glass coming from the kitchen. “Listen, Christopher, I don’t want to be any trouble, but…do you know somewhere I can stay that’s…safe?”

“Uh…no, I don’t.” Christopher had only heard vaguely of human enthusiasts in the city that supposedly made secret places for humans to live. But there definitely wasn’t anything like that in Red Tree. “Sorry.”

“Okay…” Joey said, a little cautiously. “Look, could I just…stay here for a bit? It’s raining outside. I nearly drowned earlier.”

Christopher had barely noticed the sound of the rain picking up outside—he’d been far more distracted by the sound of the storm inside the house.

That’s right. He couldn’t possibly survive outside in this weather.

He swallowed nervously, keeping an ear out for the sound of his father getting closer. “I…listen, I can’t let my dad catch me with a human—”

“You can hide me, right? Listen, anything is preferable to dying out there. You can stuff me in a drawer for all I care. Just don’t send me back outside. Please.”

Christopher shook his head. “Your smell. Your scent is…really strong.” It was making his own stomach twist in knots to inhale it—he couldn’t put words to the sharp scent. It wasn’t like anything else in the world. It was totally distinct, almost alien—but not unpleasant. Not at all unpleasant, actually.

He found his mouth watering slightly, and his empty stomach growled.

No. That’s disgusting. You’re not like him. You’re not going to EAT this human.

Despite his mental protests, he found that he was curious. It was a common enough thing—everyone ate humans in secret. Even some of his classmates had done it—or at least, talked like they’d done so. Smelling this human now, he could see the appeal—the scent twisted around his lungs and teased the back of his tongue, all but begging him to get a taste of this human. Of Joey.

He’s got a name. He’s a person—you can’t just eat him. Even if it’s safe.

“Yeah, okay, kid, I haven’t exactly had time for a bath—”

“That’s not what I meant,” Christopher said, grimacing slightly from another painful, hungry twist of his stomach. “I mean giants can smell humans really well. My dad would find you.”

“...ah.” Joey’s face looked a little paler all of a sudden. “Does your dad, uh, have something against humans?”

Does he not know…?

Christopher felt a bit awkward all of a sudden, not entirely sure how to go about explaining to Joey that humans were drugs to most giants. He didn’t want to scare the poor human more.

Could he keep Joey in his room? He might be able to get away with it. His father’s senses weren’t all that sharp, not as much as his own were. Maybe he could find a way to mask the scent somehow. He wondered if it would be suspicious for his room to suddenly start smelling like lavender.

“He—”

A sound interrupted Christopher’s sentence, and he felt his heart drop into his stomach. His father’s heavy, thudding footsteps were making their way back down the hallway—towards his room again.

“Shit,” Christopher hissed. Panic gripped his mind, and in that panic, his hand shot forward and grabbed Joey—eliciting a tiny yelp of surprise from the human.

“Hey! Wh—”

Christopher desperately put a finger to his lips to silence Joey, his heart beating furiously against his ribcage. His father wouldn’t take it well to find a human in his room on a good day—and this definitely wasn’t one of his good days.

The footsteps got closer and closer. Christopher knew the door would be thrown open soon—he doubted he’d get as lucky as he’d gotten before. And surely, any closer and his father would be able to smell Joey…

He stared down at the human, his own wide eyes reflected in the human’s terrified face. He gave a nervous swallow, realizing what he might have to do.

It would hide his scent—

“Sorry,” he whispered quickly, hoping to convey a sense of apology before he shoved Joey into his mouth and closed his lips behind the human’s feet.

He’d expected it to feel much stranger, but something like a shock of adrenaline burst through his chest when he got that first taste on his tongue. He didn’t have time to revel in the feeling, though—he took a deep breath and, whether through sheer luck or panic, managed to swallow Joey entirely on the first try.

He thought he could hear the human’s shouting at first, but the sound disappeared as Joey slid further down his throat, past his collarbone, and into his stomach.

The clawing, incessant sensation of hunger melted away as the human filled the space.

His mind was a blur as he stood up quickly and whipped around, just as his bedroom door flew open and his father glared back at him.

“What’the fuck’re you doin’ in here,” his father slurred angrily. Christopher could smell the alcohol on his breath from where he stood in the middle of the room—it made him nauseous.

“I was getting to my homework,” he muttered quietly, averting his eyes from his father’s and instead staring just past him.

The human was moving frantically inside of him, kicking and punching at his insides—luckily not enough to hurt him, but it was still rather distracting. He did his best to keep his face even, and not betray the guilt and panic rising up within him.

I’m sorry, Joey. I should have told you it was safe.

His father narrowed his eyes. “Quit FUCKIN’ mumbling and look at me when you talk.”

Christopher swallowed the swell of anger that rose in his chest, Joey temporarily forgotten. He forced his eyes to meet his father’s, only just barely keeping the mess of emotions contained inside of him as he forced his lips into a thin line.

It’s not worth it to cause a fight right now. Just do what he says and get it over with.

“I’m going to work on my homework,” Christopher lied, making sure to enunciate each word clearly.

His father’s glance swept around the room—his eyes passing over the otherwise spotless interior and landing on the clothes Christopher had forgotten to pick up earlier today, after getting home from school and changing. He was worried his father had picked up on the last traces of Joey’s scent—Christopher could still just barely smell it himself—but luckily, he didn’t seem to notice. “Your room’s a fucking mess.”

Give me a fucking break. It’s ONE change of clothes.

Christopher could feel his own blood pressure rising, and he dug his nails into his palm. “I’ll pick it up.”

“You fuckin’ better. Whole damn house is a shitshow.”

His bedroom door slammed closed, and Christopher was once again left alone.

He’d gotten off relatively easy today.

The pressure in his chest eased up slightly as he took a few deep breaths, calming the anger and the panic that had overtaken him.

And then his focus drifted downwards.

He placed a hand over his stomach. Joey’s movements had slowed slightly, but the rapid beating of his own heart hadn’t.

There’s a PERSON inside of me.

It was such a weird sensation, to be able to feel so much movement in his stomach—he’d never noticed how sensitive his stomach was before. Was it just how it was with humans? He pressed at his own skin curiously, lifting his shirt up. There was no indication that there was anything out of the ordinary—Joey was far too small to make any sort of impression.

There was a sort of relief that began to flood his mind—a pleasant, almost hazy feeling that touched the corners of his thoughts, almost like he was floating on a cloud. And more than that—his empty stomach had calmed down, and he felt…almost full, as if he’d eaten an entire meal instead of a relatively tiny human. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d eaten enough to feel this satiated.

But he’s fine. He’s fine. I’m not digesting him. He’s safe. It’s just a temporary thing.

The nagging voice, however, didn’t leave—what if he’d hurt Joey somehow? What if he couldn’t get him back out? What if he fucked up and—

His breaths began to come in short bursts again, panic rising in his chest. His eyes darted from the door to the window behind his bed.

He had to get out of the house.

“Hang on, Joey,” he muttered, placing a hand against his stomach—though he doubted Joey could hear him. He climbed up onto his bed and thrust the window open. It slid upwards with little resistance, thanks to Christopher’s careful maintenance of its hinges to keep it soundless. This wasn’t the first time he’d snuck out of the house, and it wouldn’t be the last.

The rain was still coming down, though it had lightened up slightly. He didn’t care—he could deal with a little rain. Slowly, he lowered himself down onto the ground and closed the window behind him before sprinting off into the woods behind the house, taking the path he knew like the back of his hand.

The rain drenched him, sinking into his clothes and dripping down his hair. He ran and ran, desperate to get to his place in the woods, to the only place he felt like he could actually breathe again. The wind whipped at his back, as if it was helping to carry him further and further away towards his sanctuary.

His house disappeared as he got further past the trees until he was surrounded by nothing but green and the smell of wet pine needles. The soft, rain-battered dirt beneath his feet caked on the soles of his tennis shoes, and he knew he’d have to be careful bringing them back inside later.

Finally, the clearing came into view—his place, his little fortress out in the middle of nowhere. The trees covered the whole place like a vibrant canopy, keeping some of the rain at bay. He headed towards the trunk of the largest tree, his favorite, and leaned against it, closing his eyes as he caught his breath again.

He slid down the trunk until he sat down against the earth, knowing somewhere in the back of his mind that he’d need to do laundry when he got home to clean all the mud off of his clothes but being far too overwhelmed to care.

How do I get him out?

He took a few slow, deep breaths. Panic probably wasn’t going to help. He tried to focus on that nice, pleasant feeling that teased the edge of his mind, doing its best to break past all the fear and anxiety that tried to tear into him.

Breathe, damnit.

His chest rose and fell slowly, and the weight in his middle rose and fell with it.

“Joey?” he said, his voice cracking slightly. He didn’t know if the human could hear him, and he didn’t feel any sort of kick or punch in response. “I’m sorry. You’re fine, you’re not gonna get hurt. I’m…I’m gonna get you out.”

Silence. He may as well have been talking to the trees.

I can do this.

He had no idea what the first step even was. No one who ate humans talked about what it was like to bring them back out, but surely…surely it just sort of happened, right?

He tried to imagine the human moving back up his throat, contracting his stomach slightly as if he was trying to tighten his core muscles. Nothing happened—he could still feel Joey’s weight securely inside of him.

Fuck.

Did he have to make himself throw up or something? It wasn’t the most elegant solution, but what else could he do?

He carefully reached into his mouth, towards the back of his throat, and tried to make himself gag. He choked and spluttered, almost doubling over on himself, but nothing came back up his throat. It felt like his stomach held onto Joey with a greedy vengeance, unwilling to let him go.

FUCK.

He began to panic again, his mind speeding up to a crescendo of anxiety that thundered in his brain. The rain fell down his face and made him shiver, getting in his eyes and making his hair hang in wet, messy strands about his face.

The human moved around inside of him again, almost agitated now—as if Christopher’s failures were freaking him out too.

“I’m sorry Joey, I’m sorry…I’m trying. I’m trying. I’ve never done this before.”

He pressed his nails into his palms, hard, and winced at the sharp pain. He had to figure this out. He couldn’t stay out here all night. He couldn’t just leave Joey inside of him like this.

“I just…I couldn’t…couldn’t let him find you. He would’ve…” He would’ve eaten you. Just like I did. FUCK.

He could feel the corners of his eyes getting warmer, but the rain and the tears mixed together as they ran down his face. He only ever let himself cry out here, when he was alone—and he wasn’t alone right now, but it felt like it. All he could hear was the wind whistling through the trees and the rain that refused to let up. He couldn’t even see where the human rested beneath his skin—the only indication Joey was even there was the soft, small weight in his center that had stopped moving altogether.

He tried to make himself gag again, but once again, his efforts proved fruitless. He clutched his knees to his chest, out of breath, choking on air.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry…” he wheezed, his fingers clenching and unclenching around his legs.

I can’t. I can’t do anything. All I do is fuck things up.

His eyelids blearily fluttered open, his eyelashes dripping with rainwater and salt, and he squeezed them shut again.

He put a hand to his stomach again, in a likely futile attempt to reassure Joey. He pressed into it slightly, feeling the human’s form beneath his touch. It was still so surreal to think about. He might have enjoyed the feeling if he wasn’t terrified and overwhelmed.

Suddenly, though, he felt a strange sensation in the back of his throat as he pressed into his stomach. Curious, he slowly pushed even further, trying to press under where he felt Joey with his fingers, and his eyes shot open as he felt the human move upwards and into his throat.

Yes. YES.

It wasn’t anything like throwing up—the human slid up his throat just as easily as he’d slid down it. It was like his body was made for this. Despite all his struggles, this felt natural and easy. He did his best to keep his breathing steady, focusing only on the motion of his throat, placing a hand underneath the bulge that formed in his throat and helping it up towards his mouth.

He felt the human reach the back of his mouth as the flavor burst onto his tongue again—almost overwhelming in its potency, enough to make the breath catch in his throat.

He kept his mouth closed until the human emerged fully into it, and he felt tiny hands grasp desperately at his teeth as Joey pulled himself forward.

“L-let me out. Please,” Joey whimpered—he could hear the human’s voice clearly now.

For a moment—just a moment—Christopher considered swallowing Joey back down. He could feel the hunger rising back up in him, squeezing his stomach with sharp, clawed fingers. It begged him to keep the human inside of him a little longer, to feel that satisfying weight within him again.

No. NO. I’m not like HIM.

Christopher used his tongue to keep Joey pressed gently against the roof of his mouth as he tried to swallow all the excess saliva around him. Then, he parted his lips and reached in with a few fingers, pulling Joey out by his hands before letting the human fall soggily into his palms.

Joey looked much worse than he had earlier—covered in saliva, shivering and huddling in Christopher’s hands, and staring up at Christopher with wide, understandably terrified eyes.

They only stared at each other for a while, both unsure of what to say. Christopher tried to shelter Joey from the rain slightly by covering him with his other hand, but it only did so much.

“H-how the hell am I alive?” Joey squeaked, his lip trembling as he curled in on himself—as if he was trying to back away from Christopher as much as he could, despite the fact that he was sitting in Christopher’s hand, very far from the ground.

“Giants…eat humans,” Christopher mumbled, somewhat apologetic, “but not for food. Giant stomachs are safe for humans to be in. We can control our digestive systems.”

Joey blinked in disbelief. “What…what the hell?” His mouth fell open. “Why…if not for food, then—”

“Drugs,” Christopher muttered bitterly. “It’s…” his lips tightened, “kind of…a nice feeling. And, um…I guess humans taste good to giants.” His face scrunched up in apology. “But I didn’t—I didn’t eat you because of…that.” He sighed. “I didn’t want my dad to smell you. He would have…”

“Yeah, hey, I…get it,” Joey said, albeit somewhat warily. “I’m just…um…well, thank you, Christopher.”

Christopher nodded, unsure of what to do now. He couldn’t leave Joey out here in the rain, in the wild…how did humans even survive out in the wild like that?

He should take him home with him. He could probably hide the scent well enough…he only had to worry about his dad bursting in occasionally, but neither of his parents lingered around his room for long. He might be able to hide Joey…at least for a bit.

“Hey, uh…you good, kid?”

Christopher’s focus got pulled to Joey again, and his eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “What do you mean? I’m…I’m fine.”

“Uh…” Joey’s face took on something a little softer. Concern. “You just…didn’t sound too good. From uh. From in there.”

Christopher shook his head quickly, reflexively. “I’m fine, really.”

Joey nodded slowly, clearly disbelieving. He looked up at Christopher, and hesitantly placed a hand against Christopher’s palm. “You know…the way your dad treats you…it’s not right.” He moved his hand back and forth in a tiny, soothing motion. “You seem like a good kid.”

He felt his chest hitch. “T-thanks, um, Joey.” He grimaced as he stood up slowly, making sure to keep Joey well-protected in his palms to prevent the human from falling off. “I can…I can probably keep you in my room for a bit. I don’t think my parents will check for a while. And I might find something to keep your scent covered.”

Joey nodded tersely, a new wave of fear settling into his face as he glanced down at how far the ground was below him. “I…I appreciate it, kid.”

They walked in silence for a bit, Christopher holding the human close to his chest both to shield him from the rain and keep him from falling.

“Um…and, hey, kid…” Joey muttered, a twinge of nervousness in his voice. “If you gotta…if you gotta do that again, because of your dad or whatever…it’s okay. Don’t worry about it.” He looked up at Christopher, forcing half a smile through his features. “I trust you, alright?”

“...y-yeah. Okay.” Christopher tried not to think about the way Joey’s suggestion made his stomach growl hungrily.

That hunger persisted all the way back to the house—and only got worse the more the human’s scent filled his lungs.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

#itwom #in the world of monsters #vore writing #vore stories #gt vore #g/t vore #safe vore #unwilling vore #soft vore #clean vore #sfw vore #nonsexual vore

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