The tastiest treat

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See, that’s what the app is perfect for.

Sounds perfect Wahhhh, I don’t wanna

Warning, graphic vore and digestion ahead

I can’t stop thinking about you… Or more accurately, I can’t stop myself from thinking about your belly. Day in and day out, night after night, your gut has been on my mind. I constantly imagine myself plunging through your warm, cavernous, drooling maw, and down the tight, slick tunnel of your hungry, pulsating throat. I can’t stop picturing my helpless body succumbing to the cramped, caustic confines of your hot, groaning stomach, breaking down into sludge that’s just waiting to be drained into your glorpy, churning bowels. The thought of your bloated, flabby abdomen jiggling and sloshing like a waterbed as my soupy remains pump through the dank, musky depths of your smelly, winding intestines is an inescapable thought. I can’t even begin to describe how often I mull over the prospect of your sagging, sloshing post-vore belly, plumping and fattening up after my churning demise, growing softer from all of my valuable nutrients while the hot, hefty mass of all of my worthless leftovers packs away into your straining, swollen colon, creaking and groaning as they await the gassy, smelly heralding of their final release.

And I think you know what I’m talking about, because you’re thinking the very same thoughts, going through the very same things….

Except… I can’t stop thinking about it, because I’m terrified of it, but I think that you can’t stop thinking about it because you want it. You want to reduce my tender meat into nutritious, fattening sludge and rank, bubbling gas within your bowels. You want to feel my kicking, screaming form grow soft and sludgy within your churning depths. You want to sink your fingers into your bloated, swollen gut and feel my mushy, soupy remains churn and squelch beneath your tender touch. You would enjoy letting my last breath trumpet from your rear in a warm, ripe stream of smelly wind, filling the room with a nasty stench as my pathetic leftovers slowly sluice through your lard packed frame.

fatal vore vo.re vo/re vore digestion vore disposal vore-disposal
tummy-gurgles

Anonymous asked:

one of my favorite things in vore is when the prey is digesting, the stomach lets out these strained gurgles and tight sounding churns, but after the prey begins to actually break down the stomach begins to pick up noise and gets very gurgly and wet sounding 👀

rip-in-parp-deactivated20181123 answered:

Especially when the wet gurgles are super long and it sorta sounds like the sound of the liquids passing through the sphincter into the intestine and making that squeeeelchy squishy noise

Everyone is always talking about how great post vore burps are, and they just end up forgetting to give the OTHER form of post vore gas some much needed love.

Like yeah, sure, I won’t deny that a deep, bassy belch rippling the preds lips as their overstuffed gut relieves some pressure with a burst of hot wind isn’t totally amazing, but the same exact experience from the other side is also a joy to behold. Deep, crass, cheek wobbling butt-belches need some more appreciation dammit!!

fatal vore vo.re vore digestion vo/re vore talk vore+digestion
tasty-n-sweet
tasty-n-sweet

Being swallowed whole feels amazing. I love feeling my pred’s hungry lips stretch around and slide up my body, their soft tongue licking all over me while their strong throat tugs me down. Slowly feeling myself slipping down into their whining belly, the light behind me fading away as they shut their jaws..

When I curl up completely inside, I start wiggling and pushing to get more comfortable than I already am, surrounded by warm, soft flesh massaging into my skin. Listening to their racing heartbeat thumping around me, hands happily rubbing and patting over my body. Feeling the plush, slimy walls press tighter around me after each muffled burp, hearing them sigh in satisfaction..

The pain of being digested is brief. After my body softens, I just become silent, slowly and painlessly oozing into a lump of chyme sitting in their stomach. Listening to their belly bubble and growl all around me, nipping away at my nutrients, slipping into and stretching out their intestines. After they dispose of the parts of me their body didn’t need, all I can do is hang and sag from their warm waistline. And being a thick layer of fat on my pred’s belly feels amazing..

spooky-hungry
spooky-hungry

Two days.

It’s been two days since you fell asleep at that house party - biggest mistake of your life - and woke up in… here. Of course, to you, it feels like it’s been a LOT longer than two days… but then again, it’s not like you have many ways of telling time, where you’re at. You are surrounded by a darkness so thick that there’s no difference between your eyes being closed or open - not like you ever dared open them, for fear of the sting of those biting liquids that were constantly being excreted from the fleshy, wrinkly walls and kneaded into your skin, systematically working away at you. It’s a struggle to get any air, and the air you can get is thick with an acrid, gastric odor. Oh, how nicely you squirmed when you first woke up in there! But, of course, hypoxic and swaddled, you’ve since fallen into a bit of a stupor, fading in and out of consciousness, only being able to wriggle for a few minutes at a time before taking hours to rest.

You were in denial, at first; even as you heard the cacophonous gurgles and churns and sloshes of my stomach, and heard my muffled voice teasing you from just beyond your prison beneath my thick layers of belly pudge, your mind refused to accept the fact that you’d been SWALLOWED, whole and alive. But by now, there was no denying it; my acids had already melted your clothes right off your body, and were now working on your epidermal layer while I lounge in the warm bathtub, groping and massaging my gut so lovingly while teasing you about how nicely you’ll add to my ass and tits. You must be grateful, after all, for you give me a few of those blissful struggles in return… and after all, I’ve taken such good care of you! Feeding you snacks and water and gulping down tons of air to keep my little meal kicking for as long as possible, always teasing and playing with you at every opportunity. I planned the whole thing out, timing your consumption so that I’ll have the whole of spring break to spend relaxing at home, happily gurgling you up in privacy, far from any prying eyes that might do something silly like ‘call the police’. By the time I head back to campus, you sadly won’t be alive anymore, though your meat will take a month total to digest; most of you adding to my big, plump figure, and the rest getting flushed down the toilet.

But that all comes later. For now, we have plenty of time to enjoy eachother’s company, my lovely meal…

hornyvorewhore

Anonymous asked:

definetely one where the reader gets in a fight with their man so he shrinks them and swallows but it goes too far and i end up getting digested bonus points if he has a bowel movement while im inside

thevoraciouschefconfessions answered:

(gawd the entire time I was writing this I couldn’t help but think of Gaunter O'Dimm as the boyfriend. That probably helped tbh.)

You stand in your living room with your arms crossed. Having gone to the store for just a moment, you fully expected your friend to be sitting on your couch. Instead you find your boyfriend with a very satisfied smile on his face. You ask him again where your friend is.

“Why, she’s right here! Don’t you recognise her?” your eyes follow your boyfriends hand as it comes to rest on his rounded middle. You glare at your boyfriend as he smuggly rubs his bloated belly. After seeing his belly at work before, you could easily tell that your ditzy friend can’t be spit back up. His belly resting lower on him than if she wws still in his stomach, and the soft squealing emmiting from his bowels giving away that she’s been in his intestines for hours now.

Burning hot anger fills you and your glare hardens. You really liked her, and would have rather not seen her be turned into a bowel movement for your ravenous lover. You jab your finger into his semi hard belly as you berate him. Asking him why he can’t keep people out of bis belly for own day.

His smirk drops into frown as you rant at him. Annoyance bubbling under his skin until it boils over. Your boyfriend snapped his fingers, the air surrounding you suddenly feeling heavy. Your skin tingled and you watched in shock as you began to shrink. Before you can even shout at him, you find yourself buried in a pile of clothes.

Cold fingers dig you out of the pile and plop you onto a lap. You glare up at your now towering lover, his swollen bellies squeaking that much louder to you now that you’re only 10 inches tall.

“Look, I love you. But I’m not going to let you berate me for doing my thing.” he says it softly, but the tightness of his eyes conveys hs reall anger. “So for punishment for being rude, I think you’ll have to spend some time in my belly.”

You can only stare in shock at hid decision; not even putting up a fight when he grabs you again. He brings you close to your face and drags his tongue across your naked body. You can’t help but shiver as his cool tongue glides across you body, spending an unnecessary amount of attenion on your crotch before pulling away. Hunger and lust fills you lovers eyes, the two of you staring intently at each other for a long time.

Finally he twists his hand and slowly pushes you head first into his mouth. His hands moves to your bottom and gives it a gentle shove. Your head falls into his tight throat, it squeezes you and pulls you in further as your boyfriends tongue swipes across your body once again. A heavy moan shakes you and you can’t help but moan as well when you boyfriends tongue splits your thighs apart. The tip poking and prodding you as he nudges you further down his throat.

Outside you feel your boyfriend caressing the buldge you make in his throat. One hand rubbing downward while the other traces your outline.

Your feet are folded and pushed into his mouth and all movement stops for a moment before your lover swallows hard. Your body being dragged fully into his throat where more wet swallows drag you down to his belly. Your head enters slowly while your body is squeezed tightly by his esophagus. The smell brings tears to your eyes and the heavy sounds of gurgling nearly deafens you. Your body is squeezed slowly into the active chamber, forcing you to curl into a ball.

His belly presses against as it secreates acid to cover you. Through his skin you can feel your boyfriend rub the budlge you make. His heavy panting echoing loudly above you. You squirm around and try to get comfortable, not too worried about where you are. Sure that your boyfriend wouldn’t let something bad happen to you.

Bellow you you can hear his intestines groan around you former coworker. Your irritation from early rising again, so you give him a hard kick. His belly twitches and shakes as he chuckles; his fingers digging into your back.

“Now that’s no way to get out of there~.” your boyfriend chuckles. His fingers dance along your body, pushing against you hard and then rubbing soothing circles that tou can barely feel.

It’s not long before you feel a rumble from deep bellow you. You boyfriend still and shifts around before you hear a short squeaky fart escape him. You scoff as he laughs out an ‘excuse me’ before patting lower on his belly. “Looks like your friend wants out.” he chortles.

Your world shifts and your jostled about as he stands and strutes to the bathroom. The acid around you sloshing and drenching you entirely with every step. Your world finally settles as he plops down on the toilet and heaves a heavy sigh. More farts rip out of your boyfriends ass and you can feel his belly clench as he pushes down on your former friend. You can feel her remains shift and slip out of his body. Your boyfriend grunting as he pushes out the massive log of shit.

A muffled plop is heard far bellow followed by a series of more. The pressure your friend left slowly disappears into the toilet, your boyfriend pausing to flush ever now and again. A long fart escapes him before all movement seems to stop. Your boyfriend pushes on his belly and grunts out, “Just..one more…outta do it.” He pants heavily as the largest log slowly emerges from his anus. Dropping with a loud splash into the bowl.

You can feel him relax around. Your friend now fully flushed out of his bowels and into the sewer. The pressure of his hand rests against you again as he rubs his belly. He cleans himself up and then trots back to the living room. His hands craddling the round budlge you make innhis stomach. When you feel him settle on the couch you begin to squirm again and ask if you can come out yet.

“In a little bit,” he yawns “I’m going to take a quick nap.” You scoff and grumble to yourself, getting comfy as you listen to his heart slow. The rhythmic thumping lulling you into a deep slumber as well.

Hours pass and neither of you notice when his belly grows more active. The acid slowly melting away your skin, though not burning painfully as one would have expected. For a bried moment you wake up and see the meaty soup you’re becoming before passing out again. Assuming it was a weird dream. Meanwhile your bones become brittle and snap under his bellies powerful grinding motions.

Your boyfriends belly turning you into a meaty paste, like it has done to countless others. He honestly had no intention of digesting you. Just tease you enough to make you forget your anger before spitting you out. Then the two of you would clean up and go on a date. But his body couldn’t know that; to his belly, anything that’s put in it is food.

Hours pass and your boyfriend sleeps through the rest of day and most of the next. When he wakes up, sleep clouds his mind. His belly gurgling softly in hunger, having finished difesting you hours ago. Your remains traveled through his body as it absorbed all the nutrients from you. The waste that is you now sitting heavy in his smaller intestines ready to join your friend in the sewer.

He pats his bloated belly sleepily before heading to the kitchen for food, his hunger driving you further from his mind. Feeling particularly peckish, your lover quickly finishes his meal and heads back to the fridge. He crouches down and begins to stuff his face until his belly begins to ache. It juts away from his body, packed too tightly with food. You lover moans and burps wetly; waddlig to the couch to wait for you to come rub it. Minutes tic by as he rubs his full belly happily before a familiar feeling in his bowels triggers a memory.

His satisfied smile drops as he finally recalls the previous days events. The build pressure in his lower bowels confirmes his fears and he lets out a heavy sigh. He squeezes his full belly and burps loudly as he groans. Feeling foolish, he craddles his belly tenderly as he waddles to the bathroom. His lover having been turned into nothing but a bowel movement.

He sits on the toilet and mopes as your remains slip out of his ass. Doing nothing to aid his bowels in pushing you out, wanting to take as long as he can with what little time he has left with you. Finally the last of you drops into the toilet. Your boyfriend cleans himself up befoe standing, watching the shit he turned you into flush down the toilet.

Warning, this is an experimental vore post, going far beyond the forays of my typical, gushy, digestive delights. I’m trying out a darker, more filth inclined style. (Not a permanent change of content or style for this blog, just an experiment) Features all of the usual warnings and more. Please proceed at your own risk!

You probably don’t think of it as much, but the last swallow is the most momentous moment of a poor, helpless prey’s life. One final, decisive swallow condemns a meal like me to a lifetime of suffering. At least said lifetime never lasts much longer.

Once I’m in your stomach, I’m stuck there, trapped and helpless, held at your mercy. I get to endure the torments of my gastric prison, being soaked by churning acids as my flesh softens and melts, until your gut crushes me out of existence, down into a thick, pulpy sludge of ragged, torn flesh, bubbling, oozing blood, and shattered, crumpled bone. My story will come to a sudden, early conclusion with a sickening squelch. I’ll be reduced to nothing, whether I want it or not. Everything I’ve ever done before in life, every accomplishment and every relationship, in the end, they all will amount to little more than a thick, doughy layer of blubber sagging from your fat, overfed gut, and a few extra inches of nice, juicy jiggle on your hips, butt, and thighs.


And that’s not even the worst of it, for your meals like me at least. It’s not enough to torment a treat merely by making them line your waistband. Oh no, preds like you get the joy of making snacks like me float through your sewers too. Once I’ve been pulverized into slop, destroyed beyond all recognition and pumped through your greedy bowels to be drained of all nutritional value and to fatten you up, once I’ve become fuel for a few more rolls of lard on your bulging belly, nothing will remain of me, save for a hefty, smelly loaf of putrid shit nestled deep in your guts, preceded by a bubbly string of the foulest of farts. I’m sure you’ll reek of death and decay as I’m sluiced through you, crammed and piled up in your straining colon. I wouldn’t be suprised if passerby gag from the toxic fumes leaking from your puckered hole.


But that gets you excited, doesn’t it? The thought of turning me, a living, breathing person into nothing but a rancid pile of shit that will disappear down your toilet like every other meal you’ve ever eaten… Oh goodness gracious, I bet that really turns you on… The idea of feeling your gut tear a person apart, feeling it shred them into a bloody mass and braid their essence into your own fat is probably the most sexy things you could ever imagine, isn’t it? The feeling of your stomach clenching and tossing around the thick, chunky stew of my remains as they slosh about inside you…. The awful sloppy sound of me being pumped into your intestines and the accompanying feeling as your muscles, stretch and squeeze and contract, and force more mush through their tight, slimy confines. You probably savor the thought of feeling me die inside your gut, you probably fantasize over feeling my body being boiled and crushed, and hearing my screams and struggles silenced with a wet, gurgling crunch, reduced into a thick brownish-red mush, riddled with bone and lumps of solid meat, and pushed through your smelly bowels until what’s left of me has been processed away into fat, and farts, and shit. I bet you can’t wait to feel me pumping through you, my remains stretching out your intestines as they slither into your bowels, the hard bits tickling the walls of your sensitive colon, eager to swirl down your toilet.


What a way to assert dominance… the only reminders that the brown logs were ever once a human being would be the scaggly, acid-bleached strands of hair and the flaky, yellowed bone chips and shattered teeth, the whole smelly mess destined to be flushed away and forgotten forever.

fatal vore vo.re vo/re vore digestion vore disposal vore talk vore+digestion vore-disposal vore+scat

Warning, very, very explicit vore, digestion, and disposal ahead!!

I’ll never know why I have some kind of strong, inescapable, perverse desire to end up as a squishy mass of ground-up, acid-softened, viscous soup squeezing through your intestines. It makes no sense! I’m a person, a living breathing human! There’s no way I should actually want to end up as gut-slop, as your literal fat and shit after experiencing the same, humiliating fate that every slice of pizza and every hamburger, every glass of soda or coffee, every plate of cookies and every single other piece of greasy, fatty junk food that’s ever ended up inside of you has been forced to suffer

That would be weird, and just so horrible and gross… But while I don’t understand it, I remain drawn to such a fate anyways. I don’t really blame myself either. I mean, how could I ever hope to not fantasize over being forcibly swallowed whole as I scream and struggle, before my terrified, fighting body is slowly churned down into a goopy pulp of melted flesh and shattered bone? How could I ever resist the allure of being treated as nothing more than a juicy piece of meat, of being seen no differently than any other gutful of greasy, fattening junk food despite my screams, struggles, and pleas? Why wouldn’t I shudder in delight at the thought of my mushy, chymal remains draining and pumping down through the dank, smelly confines of your tight, winding bowels, feeding you, fattening you, letting your greedy, plump body leech away all of my nutrients, transforming my essence into roll after roll of soft, plush fat for your jiggling, pudgy form, before the useless leftovers are finally squeezed out of you as a massive pile of former gutslut a mere week or so after gulping me down?

vore-disposal vore disposal vore digestion scat mention vore+digestion vore talk implied scat vore-digestion fatal vore fatal-vore vo.re vo/re
thesoutherndruid

succulentsnak asked:

I sank my fingers into your plushy chub and playfully shook your belly, happily jiggling the soft dome of fat as it gurgles impatiently. "Sorry dear, it's too cold to get out of bed today! I'm sorry that I didn't get ya' a bite to eat, but I'd rather stay nice and warm in bed with you" I leaned forwards to kiss you once more, planting my lips against yours and letting out a soft moan of passion. "You're not upset at me, are you?" I asked in concern, my brow wrinkling uneasily as your gut growls

thesoutherndruid answered:

“Upset? Noooo..nonono…but I am quite hungry babe…so I’d appreciate you figure out a way to fix that for your favorite kitty~” I plan an affectionate kiss on your lips, followed by a threatening lick across your face. “pleeeaaasse?~”

thesoutherndruid

*Your struggles meant nothing to my sleeping form. You were merely food. That’s all you ever were and all you’d ever be. So my stomach felt anyways, acids already began to trickle in slowly melting away at you as I snored. There was no hope for you anymore....unless that hope was to make my ass fat.*

succulentsnak

My soft, tender flesh begins to tingle and itch, turning to a deep, meaty shade of red as your hot juices continue to braise my helpless form. The pools of acid building up at the bottom of your gut slowly begin to rise, fed by the seeping trickles of warm, frothy slime dripping from your stomach walls. The powerful, muscular folds of your gut seize me fiercely, gripping my helpless body in their firm embrace and kneading my soft flesh, massaging the acidic slime into my trembling figure. I whimper helplessly, giving a few, pathetic struggles as the gravity of my fate hits home. All of my hopes, dreams, aspirations, and relationships are utterly meaningless, everything that I ever was and ever would've been are reduced to nothing by your hunger. I'm a person anymore. I'm just food, and my purpose is to satisfy your gut

thesoutherndruid

My stomach and my snoring combat over which noise’s volume will fill the room more, like a battle of the bands to a degree. My stomach seems to be the clear victor for now, possibly due to your struggles, which inevitably mean nothing now..

succulentsnak

With a desperate, hoarse cry, I thrash about wildly one final time within your depths, kicking and flailing violently against the thick, flabby walls. Unsurprisingly, my pathetic struggles make no difference to my ultimate fate. In a few short moments I gently twitch and spasm, letting out a small whimper as I drift into unconsciousness, never to wake again. Your roiling belly churns around my limp figure in delight, squeezing and kneading my soft, acid soaked flesh with such force that my tender meat rapidly begins to break down, bits and pieces collapsing into mush as your muscles grind and your juices boil

thesoutherndruid

Hours, maybe even days pass before I awake from my food coma with a yawn. My hands curiously feel around my body before I chuckle, wobbling my new lovehandles. “Oh, hey babe, thanks for the meal~”

succulentsnak

Almost every last trace of my existence has been destroyed over the course of your catnap, broken down and absorbed by you, adding fresh new pounds to your alluring curves.

The soft, jiggling folds of your doughy hips shake and quiver wildly beneath your curious fingertips, and your already ample hips and rear are covered in a warm, springy layer of pale flab.

But most interesting of all is your gut. It’s far smaller than the massive, squirming orb which had existed a few days before, but the thick, pudgy dome of meat is almost twice as large is it was before your meal. A generous layer of chub is spread over your tummy, but all of that size and mass is more than just solid fat. The sagging, deflated bulge of your potbelly gently sloshes and gurgles at the slightest touch, wobbling like a waterbed as your packed, straining bowels noisily creak and groan from within