Damn Boy You Sure Are A Lean Twink. I Think You Would Be That Extra Push I Need To Surpass My Current

Damn boy you sure are a lean twink. I think you would be that extra push I need to surpass my current plateau.

Stop screaming the sound you make only tickles my throat, sound barely gets through. The music playing in the gym cancels out anything. Such a big strong boy you are, it’s a good thing I waited after your workout. The sweaty body of yours helps sliding you down and your weakened state I hardly have to fight you. Ughh, so that was the hard part. How is it down there? My whole belly is bloated out with you packed tight in my stomach.

Don’t worry boy you will be gone soon enough, I just hide in the private shower until you are completely digested.

I feel you squirming around in my stomach, does this mean you are feeling my digestive acids are trying to break you down? I can feel it you know, soon you will inhale some special liquids my body makes and you will pass away. Then my body will release special acids to rapidly digest your ... oh hehe I feel it starting. Each breath I take I can feel my belly becoming less bloated out. Your body turning into nutritious liquid and pumped then around feeding every muscle in my body. Your memories become mine, knowing all your secrets. Your bones strengthening and thickening mine to make sure I can hold even more mass on my frame. Your cum and testosterone producing balls feeding mine, doubling in size and production. Then enhancing my looks with yours only to improve to lure more to me. This happens beside all the muscle you had adding to mine making me a stronger bigger beast.

I feel the last bit of you leaving my stomach as the changes subsided. I left immediately after my veins still pumping some leftovers of you around, making sure you are evenly distributed.

Eat, Burp, Repeat

A commission for a lovely user here on Tumblr. I hope you all enjoy reading it! It's the first story I've posted in months.

Content: M/M Vore, Oral Vore, Multiple Swallowings, Safe Vore with Eventual Digestion, Betrayal

“You fucking serious?” Demyan blurted out, staring at Levko as if he had just sprouted a second head.

Levko leaned back in his chair, his belly pressing comfortably against the edge of the table as he took a slow sip of his beer. The kitchen around them was warm and dimly lit, cluttered with the casual mess of a bachelor’s place—empty takeout containers, a stray gym towel draped over a chair. It had the lived-in feel of somewhere that valued comfort over style, much like Levko himself. He was the kind of guy who never fussed over a beer belly or the extra softness around his sides; he wore his dad bod like it was the most natural thing in the world. His beard, dark and full, framed a face that always seemed to be on the verge of a smile.

“Yeah, I’m serious,” Levko replied, shrugging casually as if he were suggesting they try a new restaurant instead of what he had just proposed. “I mean, why not? You’ve been curious about it, right?”

Demyan’s face twisted, caught between disbelief and a reluctant curiosity. He fidgeted with the hem of his hoodie, a nervous habit Levko had noticed the day they first met. They had been friends for quite a while, sharing the kind of quiet camaraderie that came naturally when an introvert gets adopted by an outgoing extrovert. Demyan, with his thoughtful eyes and soft-spoken demeanor, wasn’t the type to dive into wild ideas without thinking them through from every angle. It was one of the things Levko liked about him—the guy’s cautiousness balanced out his own impulsive streak.

“I—” Demyan started, then stopped, shaking his head. “No, I haven’t been curious about… this. I didn’t even know this was a thing until five minutes ago.” He rubbed the back of his neck, a nervous gesture that only seemed to make him appear smaller. “You’re telling me… you eat people? Like, for real?”

Levko chuckled, a deep, easy laugh that bounced off the walls of the small kitchen. “Not just anyone, man. Only those who are up for it, you know? Consensual and all that.” He tapped the side of his beer bottle thoughtfully. “It’s just… I dunno, something about it feels right. Like, natural. And look, I get it’s weird. Most people think it’s weird. But it’s not like I’m out there hunting people down. You’re my friend, Dem. And hey,” he added with a grin, “you’re delicious.”

Demyan’s cheeks flushed a deep red, and he quickly looked away, the comment hitting him in an unexpected place between flattery and utter confusion. He fiddled with his phone on the table, scrolling aimlessly just to keep his hands busy. “You can’t be serious,” he muttered again, though his voice had lost some of its initial edge.

“I wouldn’t joke about this,” Levko said, leaning forward slightly, his belly brushing the edge of the table. There was a sincerity in his eyes that Demyan had come to trust over the past few months. Levko had always been easygoing, the kind of guy who could make you laugh with a simple, well-timed comment or who could pull you into a conversation so deep you’d lose track of time. They had spent countless evenings just like this—talking, drinking, unraveling bits of their lives to each other.

Levko ran a hand through his hair, his expression softening. “You’ve been dealing with a lot of stress lately, right? This could be… I don’t know, an escape? A way to let go? You’d be safe the whole time. I’d never hurt you, Demyan, not unless you want it.” He gestured to himself, his body, the soft belly that rose and fell gently with each breath. “I’ve done it before. They usually come out fine.”

“Yeah, but… swallowed? Like… actually in there?” Demyan gestured vaguely at Levko’s stomach, his fingers trembling slightly.

Levko’s grin widened, a gleam of mischief in his eyes. “Yeah, man. Actually in there. I’ll keep you safe. I promise. And I think you’d be surprised how… relaxing it can be. Hell, you might even like it.”

Demyan swallowed hard, his mind racing through a hundred objections and half-formed thoughts. He knew Levko wasn’t messing with him—he could tell from the way Levko was watching him, the playful yet earnest glint in his eyes. They had grown close these past few months; Demyan had even started looking forward to their late-night talks, their inside jokes. There was a comfort in Levko’s presence that was hard to deny, even now.

But this… this was something else entirely. Still, a part of him—the part that had always been drawn to the unknown, to the edges of experience that he’d never quite dared to explore—felt a pull. He didn’t fully understand it, but the idea, as insane as it was, didn’t immediately repulse him. And maybe that was the most surprising thing of all.

Demyan sighed, his shoulders slumping as if the weight of the conversation had finally gotten to him. "Fine, alright," he muttered, rubbing the back of his neck. "If you really think it's safe… I guess I'll try it. But I swear, if this goes sideways—"

"Fuck yeah!" Levko interrupted, his face lighting up with a grin. He gave his slightly protruding gut a hearty pat, the soft flesh jiggling under his touch. "Knew you'd come around, man. This belly? Always knew it was made for you specifically. You’ll fit right in, trust me."

Demyan rolled his eyes but couldn't help the slight chuckle that escaped. "You’re unbelievable, you know that?"

Levko just smirked, rubbing his stomach as if it was already happening. "Just relax, alright? We’ve got this."

Levko opened his mouth wide, showing off the slick, fleshy tunnel that awaited. Without any further hesitation, he pushed Demyan’s head into his mouth, letting his tongue slide against Demyan’s face. The taste of sweat and skin met his taste buds, and he couldn’t help but moan in satisfaction. "Mmm… you taste better than I thought," he mumbled, words garbled by the obstruction in his mouth.

Demyan’s voice was muffled, but still audible, tinged with a mix of disbelief and nervous laughter. "Damn, this is... really happening, huh?"

Levko responded with a deep, guttural hum that vibrated against Demyan’s face as he continued to savor his friend’s flavor. Slowly, Levko’s jaws stretched wider, taking in Demyan’s head completely. The feeling of his friend’s head filling his mouth was electric, sparking a surge of adrenaline through him. His throat muscles started to work, kneading and pulling Demyan in deeper.

Demyan squirmed slightly, feeling the warm, wet press of Levko’s throat close around his head. "Tight as hell in here…." His words were almost lost, choked off as the tight passage of Levko’s throat squeezed around him.

Levko ignored the comment, too focused on the task at hand. His hands gripped Demyan’s shoulders, guiding him further into his mouth. He took his time, savoring each inch as it passed over his tongue. Demyan’s shoulders popped past his lips, Levko’s jaw stretching to accommodate, and with a powerful swallow, he pulled Demyan further in.

"Mph—" Demyan tried to say something, but Levko’s throat had him in a firm, relentless grip, squeezing his words into muffled vibrations. His arms were pinned to his sides, and he could feel the slick, rhythmic contractions of Levko’s throat dragging him downward.

Levko paused for a moment, relishing the sensation of Demyan’s torso slipping past his lips. He grinned around the mass, his teeth grazing Demyan’s chest as he swallowed again. The feeling of Demyan’s chest stretching his throat was intense, but Levko was too caught up in the moment to care. He just kept gulping, each swallow sending more of Demyan into his eager belly.

Demyan’s legs kicked weakly as he felt his upper body slip deeper into Levko’s gullet. "Fuck, man," he muttered, his voice muffled and distorted. He could feel the pressure of Levko’s throat all around him, squeezing and pulling, guiding him inexorably downward.

Levko adjusted his stance, leaning back slightly to let gravity help him along. Demyan’s waist passed over his tongue, the bulk of his friend’s body stretching his throat wide. Levko’s hands pressed against Demyan’s thighs, pushing him further in. Another deep swallow, and Demyan’s knees were at his lips.

Demyan’s muffled voice came again, sounding strained but oddly calm. "Shit, it’s so tight. Can hardly breathe in here…."

Levko responded with a low, pleased grunt, his throat vibrating around Demyan. He was nearly there now, the bulge of Demyan’s head pressing into his gut, visible from the outside. Levko took one last big gulp, his throat muscles working hard to pull the last of Demyan’s legs down. He felt Demyan’s feet slide past his lips, his throat closing around them in a final, triumphant swallow.

With a deep, satisfied exhale, Levko rubbed his gut, which now sported a sizable bulge where Demyan was curled up inside. He let out a huge, rumbling burp that echoed through the room, making his belly quiver slightly.

"Fuck, yeah," Levko said, grinning as he patted his swollen stomach. "Always knew this belly was made for you, Demyan." He could feel his friend shifting slightly inside, the movements faint but distinct. "Get comfy in there," he added with a chuckle. "We’ve got all the time in the world."

Levko leaned back on the couch, his dad bod belly visibly swollen and wobbling slightly as Demyan shifted inside. He gave his stomach a gentle pat, the sensation tickling his insides. "How you doing in there, buddy?" he called, his voice casual and warm.

Demyan's voice was muffled but audible, a mix of awe and mild discomfort. "It's… uh, it's tight in here. Really tight."

Levko chuckled, feeling the vibrations of Demyan's movements. "Yeah, well, it’s your first time. You’ll get used to it. Plus, you fill me up nicely." He rubbed his belly in wide, slow circles, savoring the fullness. "Hang tight. I’ll get you out soon."

With a grunt, Levko leaned forward and let out a loud, resonant burp that seemed to rattle the walls. "BUUUUUURRRP! Ah, damn. That was a good one," he said, grinning as he gave his gut another pat. "You alright in there? I know it gets a little gassy."

Demyan coughed, his voice slightly strained. "Jesus, Levko. That’s… pungent."

"Ha! That’s all part of it, man. You get the front row seat," Levko said, his tone playful. He relaxed back, letting out another deep belch that echoed around the room. "BUUUUURRRP! Sorry, can’t help it. You just bring out the best in me."

There was a brief silence, just the sound of Levko’s gurgling belly and Demyan’s soft shuffles. After a few moments, Levko patted his gut again, feeling Demyan start to settle down. "You okay, bro? Still with me?"

"Yeah," Demyan mumbled. "Fuck, your gut really doesn’t go easy, even on a friend."

"See? Told ya you’d come around," Levko said, his voice filled with a teasing satisfaction. He gave his gut a playful shake, feeling Demyan’s weight inside jostle slightly. "Just relax. You’ll be out soon, no worries."

A few hours later, Levko leaned forward, feeling the familiar urge. "Alright, hold tight. Gonna bring you back up." With a deep breath, Levko’s throat convulsed, and he began the slow process of bringing Demyan back up.

Demyan emerged, slick with saliva and blinking in the light. He stumbled slightly, catching his breath as he wiped his face. Levko smirked, handing him a towel. "You okay? How was the ride?"

Demyan chuckled, albeit shakily. "Honestly? Kind of… fun. In a weird way."

"See? I told you, bro," Levko said, leaning back with a satisfied sigh. "You’re a natural. We’ll do it again when you’re ready."

Demyan nodded, a small smile creeping onto his face despite the lingering unease. Levko clapped him on the shoulder, his grin wide and reassuring. "Welcome to the club, man. My gut’s always open for ya."

Over the next few weeks, Demyan kept finding his way back to Levko’s apartment, the whole thing becoming more of a casual routine than he ever expected. Levko made it look easy—too easy, really. Each time, he’d just smile and say something like, "You ready for round two, bro?" before opening wide and swallowing Demyan down like it was nothing.

Levko’s gut, always snug and warm, became a second home of sorts for Demyan. The tightness, the heavy pressure, and the strong, musky air inside that belly—Demyan got used to it all. Levko’s grip got firmer, more assured, and his swallows were quicker, almost effortless. The first few times, Demyan squirmed a lot, but Levko just kept going, guiding him down smoothly until Demyan was curled up inside.

Every time Levko let out one of his trademark burps, they got louder, messier, and more guttural. "BUUUUURRRRRP! Damn, you really fill me up, man," he’d laugh, rubbing his bloated belly with a cocky grin. The burps were raw and heavy, vibrating through Levko’s whole body and leaving Demyan swimming in the aftermath.

"Fuck, that’s nasty," Demyan would sometimes grumble from inside, but it was hard to be too annoyed when Levko was just having fun with it. He’d always respond with a playful slap on his belly. "What can I say? You bring it out of me," Levko would tease, leaning back with a smug look, hands cradling the swell of his gut as if showing off a prize.

As the days passed, Levko got rougher, less patient with the whole process. He’d toss Demyan back like a shot of vodka, tilting his head and gulping hard, dragging Demyan down in one swift motion. "Down you go," Levko would say, hardly giving Demyan a chance to settle before snapping his jaws shut.

Inside, it was all tight heat and a constant churn, the pungent air filled with the sharp, acrid scent of Levko’s digestive juices working overtime. Demyan would wriggle a bit at first, but Levko’s body seemed to tighten around him, squeezing just enough to remind Demyan who was in charge.

Levko seemed to relish how Demyan fit so snugly inside, the way his belly bulged and rounded out with every swallow. He’d pat it proudly, belch loudly, and laugh, always keeping the mood light. "Feels like you’re getting cozier in there, huh?" Levko would say, half-joking, half-serious.

Each time, when Levko finally let him out, Demyan was a little more tired, a little more pliable. The roughness, the relentless swallowing, the lingering stink—it all became part of the strange bond they were building. And through it all, Levko never lost that easy-going, dad-bod confidence, making it feel less like a weird favor and more like just another day hanging out with a friend.

It had been about five weeks since this all started, and in that time, Levko had swallowed Demyan down more times than either of them bothered to count. It had become so routine, Demyan showing up at Levko’s place, shooting the shit for a bit, then letting himself get gulped down like a daily habit. Levko’s tight, pungent gut had become as familiar to Demyan as his own bed, and every burp, every groan of that belly felt like clockwork.

Today was no different. Levko opened the door with that same laid-back grin, shirt halfway unbuttoned, dad bod on full display. “Well, look who’s back,” he said, barely even waiting for a greeting before guiding Demyan in, his grip already firm on Demyan’s shoulders. Levko didn’t even ask if Demyan was ready this time; he just opened wide and started the process, like they were punching a time clock.

Demyan felt the now-familiar pull of Levko’s throat, the way it gripped and dragged him down, every gulp efficient and tight. Levko’s biceps bulged as he maneuvered Demyan down, not even trying to be gentle anymore. It was like Levko was enjoying the little bit of power, those strong arms pinning Demyan just enough to feel it.

Inside, it was all the same: hot, cramped, the heavy smell of Levko’s gut surrounding him. Demyan barely had the energy to squirm anymore; it was just too exhausting. The air was thicker today, the pressure more intense as if Levko’s belly was already tired of the routine, ready for something different.

After the usual settling in, Levko leaned back, rubbing his belly and letting out a massive belch that rattled his whole body. “BUUUUUURRRRP! Fuck, never gets old,” he laughed, giving his gut a few pats. But then, instead of the usual light teasing, his tone shifted. He sounded casual, but there was something else there, something a little darker.

“Hey, Demyan,” Levko called down, almost offhand, his voice slightly muffled by his own gut. “You ever think about just… staying in there? Like, for good?”

Demyan tried to respond, but the tightness and the constant churn of Levko’s stomach made it almost impossible to get a word out. He managed a weak, “What?” but it was barely audible, swallowed up by the sounds of digestion already starting around him.

“Yeah,” Levko continued, like he was just tossing out a casual suggestion. “I mean, you’ve been down there a lot. You’re practically part of me already. Might as well make it official, huh?” He squeezed his biceps, flexing them just enough that they pressed harder into his belly, making Demyan’s already weak protests even quieter. “Come on, man, you’re so fucking comfortable in there. Feels like it’s time to let my gut do what it’s meant to do, don’t you think?”

Demyan tried to protest, but all that came out was a muffled groan, the tight squeeze of Levko’s muscles making it nearly impossible to speak. His body felt heavy, too weak to even push back against the walls of Levko’s gut. His mind raced, but his energy was fading fast. He’d been through this so many times, the heat, the pressure—it was all just too much.

“Don’t stress it, Demyan,” Levko said, patting his belly with a bit more force, his tone half-mocking, half-serious. “It’s not like you’re gonna feel it for long. You always said you wanted to relax, right? What’s more relaxed than being part of me? Besides, you fucking fit in there perfectly. I’ve always said this gut was made for you.”

Levko belched again, louder this time, almost like he was sealing the deal. “BUUUURRRP! Shit, you really fill me up good. I gotta admit, man, feels right.” He rubbed his stomach in lazy circles, each motion pressing Demyan tighter against the slick, churning walls. “Fuck yeah,” Levko muttered, more to himself now, feeling the way his gut swelled with Demyan’s form inside. “Always knew you’d be perfect in there.”

Demyan, too tired to argue, just lay there, letting the realization sink in. He could feel the acid starting to bubble around him, Levko’s gut working him over with a casual persistence that matched Levko’s tone. As his last bits of strength faded, Demyan couldn’t even muster a full response, just a quiet, resigned noise that got lost in the constant churn of Levko’s belly.

Levko leaned back, completely relaxed, his hands resting on the bulging curve of his stomach. “Yeah, man,” he said, almost gently, “this was always the plan. Just relax. You’re home now.”

The digestion started slow, like it always did, but this time there was a finality in the way Levko’s gut gurgled and churned. Demyan felt the acid starting to pool around him, seeping into his clothes, biting at his skin with a burn that was both familiar and terrifyingly new. He tried to shift, tried to get comfortable, but Levko’s stomach squeezed him tighter, making it clear that this wasn’t going to be like the other times.

Levko leaned back on his couch, his hands pressing down on his swollen belly with a heavy satisfaction. “Fuck, man, I can already feel it working,” he murmured, his voice carrying a hint of pride. “Feels different, you know? Like it’s finally time to let this gut do what it’s supposed to.”

Inside, Demyan was struggling, the heat and pressure overwhelming. He could feel the acid getting stronger, bubbling up around his legs and creeping higher. He managed to mutter, “Levko… stop… please…” but his voice was weak, barely a whisper against the constant rumble of Levko’s digestion.

“What’s that?” Levko asked, not really listening. He gave his belly a rough shake, feeling the satisfying slosh of his friend inside. “You saying you like it? Feels good, right? Knew you’d come around.” He chuckled, patting his gut as if it was just another game they were playing.

Demyan winced, the acid stinging more fiercely now, starting to eat through his skin. He pressed against the walls of Levko’s stomach, trying to find some kind of grip, some way to resist the inevitable. “No… fuck, Levko… hurts…” But the words came out slurred, too faint to cut through the thick, humid air inside Levko’s belly.

Levko belched loudly, savoring the feeling as the pressure in his gut increased. “BUUUURRRP! Damn, you’re really giving me a workout in there. Keep it up, man. Gonna make me stronger, you know? Fuck yeah.” He flexed his arms, his biceps pushing hard into his belly, squashing Demyan deeper into the acidic pool.

The pain was sharper now, the acids working faster than Demyan remembered. He could feel his skin softening, melting into the pool of digestive juices that sloshed around him. His muscles were starting to give way, the burn spreading to his bones. He wanted to scream, to thrash, to do anything to make it stop, but every movement just sapped more of his strength.

“Levko… don’t… don’t do this…” he muttered, his voice shaking, but all Levko heard was muffled noises, lost in the deep gurgles of his belly.

“Fuck, you sound great in there,” Levko said, misinterpreting the broken words. He pushed his gut in, feeling the way it squeezed Demyan even tighter, forcing more of him under the acid. “Shit, you’re really getting into it, huh? Knew this was meant to be.”

Demyan’s mind was swimming now, the heat and the pain blurring his thoughts. His legs felt like they were dissolving, the bones softening as the acids gnawed at them. He could feel his fingers fusing together, the skin melting into a sticky, useless mass. It was all too much, and yet he couldn’t find the strength to scream, to beg louder than the relentless churn of Levko’s gut.

Levko stretched, feeling the pull of his bloated belly, the way it sloshed with the thickening remains of Demyan. “You’re putting up a good fight, I’ll give you that,” he said, his tone almost admiring. “But it’s time to just let go, man. My gut’s got you now, and it’s not letting up.”

Demyan’s chest tightened, the acid creeping higher, burning through his torso. His breaths came in shallow gasps, each one drawing in the rank, acidic air that only made the pain worse. He tried one last time, pushing weakly against the unyielding walls, his voice barely a croak. “Levko… please…”

But Levko wasn’t listening. He was too lost in the feeling of his friend becoming a part of him, the way his belly grumbled greedily, eager to finish the job. “Fuck yeah, that’s it,” Levko muttered, rubbing his gut with a rough hand. “Knew you’d be perfect in there. Just relax, let it happen. You’re exactly where you’re supposed to be.”

Demyan’s strength was almost gone. He could feel his body giving in, the acids breaking down the last of his resistance. His skin was gone, his muscles turning to mush, and his bones were starting to dissolve. He was nothing more than a heavy, churning mass inside Levko’s gut, every part of him surrendering to the relentless digestion.

Levko belched one last time, loud and content, a final declaration of his dominance. “BUUUURRRRPP! That’s the last of you, man. Good job. You’re mine now.”

And with that, Levko lay back, his belly slowly shrinking as it processed the remains of Demyan, a satisfied smile on his face. He didn’t hear the final, weak whispers, didn’t see the last, desperate push against the walls. All he felt was the slow, steady churn of his gut, doing exactly what it was made for.

"My job is done, now Francis will not be a problem anymore" These were the first words said by Alex once we met at the restaurant close to my apartment. Alex is a hitman I have found on the dark web, I paid him to get rid of my ex-boyfriend Francis who was still stalking me after 2 years. When I contacted him for the first time, he told me that he would leave no trace and that I could have Francis back as a personal revenge. These last words made no sense to me, but since Francis was ruining my life I quickly accepted. After two days Alex contacted me, telling me to go to the restaurant near my house to collect the second part of the payment and "give me back Francis". When I reached the restaurant he was already there, and I was astonished by his beauty: I had never seen such a handsome man, with two black eyes that could pierce through my soul, tall and muscular, with pecs that were clearly visible from his black shirt. Once I collected my thoughts and stopped blushing, I sat at his table and after a quick chat, I asked him a proof that Francis was gone for good, expecting a photo of my ex-boyfriend shot on the floor. Alex smiled, opening his muscular legs and pointing to his crotch "Well, he is not already dead, he is still with us! But don't worry, no one ever escaped from my personal prison". I was confused, so Alex took my hand and put it right on his crotch. At first, I only felt his big dick, but after a while, I could feel some legs kicking, as if there was a man inside his balls! When Alex understood I was understanding what had happened, he convinced me to go to the bathroom. Here I got on my knees, putting my head close to his balls, and I could definitely hear Francis screaming in fear, a lot of splashing sounds as he was trying his best not to drown in Alex's cum. With an evil grin, Alex told me "Now it is the moment you can get Francis back. If you give me permission, I will fuck your throat, and my balls will start digesting him for good. You can then drink the cummified remains of your ex. It is a good source of protein, and you will somehow kill him again: not only he will be digested into cum by me, but even that cum will not be splashed around a bathroom or a flashlight, you will digest him and destroy an evidence of his existence in this planet. Plus, I guess you never sucked a cock as big as mine ;)". He did not have to convince me, his musk was so strong that I felt so inferior to him, I had to suck him off and get Francis in my stomach. I opened my mouth, and he quickly unzipped his pants and started fucking my throat. With every thrust of his hips, I could feel his balls compressing Francis's body, which promptly started losing its shape and mixing with the white liquid around him. After 5 minutes, a flood of white cum emerged from his cock, cum that I did not waste by drinking it all. He barely tasted as Francis, but I could feel how the powerful musk of Alex had already overwritten Francis's existence. When he finished, he cleaned my mouth with a kiss, and quickly left me on the floor of the bathroom, with a bloated stomach of what was my ex. I hope I'll need his service again!

I j-just finished- Oh god.... I just finished my last meal... A roided personal trainer that was crazy on testosterone and needed to unload his balls. He felt nice fucking me, he didnt think I would do the same after he came, I had to be quick, a shoved all my dick in one go, he struggled a lot, as you can see I have a big cock with a big mushroom head. Once I was lodged deep inside him I started the absorption, slowly draining the guy of all that delicious muscles marinated in exagerated amounts of gear he injected himself with. God... I feel like a new man and I am not done assimilating him, look at my body, im ripped and my cock just cant go down. I only had one meal a month at most but right now my cock is starving to feed more.

Bear Beer Belly

A commission for an anonymous user here featuring a bear pred, I absolutely love bears & I'm glad I finally have the chance to write 'em. Thank you so much for commissioning me!

Content: M/M Vore, Oral Vore, Digestion, Long Digestion, Willing Prey, Reluctant Pred, Bear Pred, Hairy Pred, Teasing, Casual Teasing, Painful Digestion, Belly Worship, Belly Rubs, Burping, Predator/Prey Dynamics, Friend Vore, Size Difference, Gut Bulge, Desperation, Crushing

“Mate, you’ve gotta be kidding,” Olly said, leaning back on the worn-out sofa, scratching his thick beard. His massive frame barely fit into the old piece of furniture, his stomach peeking out from under his grey shirt, showing a bit of that furry belly he was known for. His deep, baritone voice had a hint of confusion and discomfort, as he stared across at his best friend, Jamie, who was pacing nervously.

    “I’m not. I’ve thought about this for ages, Ol. I... I need you to do it,” Jamie muttered, biting his lip. He stood there, thin and wiry, with wide eyes and hands fidgeting at his sides. His voice shook, but there was a stubborn determination in it.

    “Mate, come on. You’re asking me to... eat you. Like, actually eat you,” Olly said, running a hand through his messy brown hair. He wasn’t really sure how to handle this. “You don’t just drop this shit on someone over beers, yeah?”

    Jamie stopped pacing and turned to face him, his eyes pleading. “I know, I know it sounds mental, but... it’s what I want. You’re my best mate, Olly. There’s no one else I’d trust with this. You’ve gotta do it. I’m begging you.”

    Olly frowned, looking away, a hand rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. “It’s not that I don’t... appreciate the trust, but... fuck, Jamie. How do you even expect me to do something like that? I’m not—”

    “You are, Ol. You’re the only one who can,” Jamie interrupted, stepping closer. “Please, mate, you’ve gotta stop pretending this isn’t what we’ve both thought about. You’re a... you’re a fucking bear,” Jamie’s voice cracked slightly, but he reached out, placing a hand on Olly’s knee. “You’ve got the body, the strength. You could do it, easy. And... and I need it. I need you to swallow me whole.”

    Olly's brow furrowed as he looked at Jamie’s desperate face. His gut churned with a mix of discomfort and something else he didn’t want to acknowledge. “You’re mad. I could seriously hurt you. Christ, Jamie, I could kill you.”

    “I know!” Jamie’s voice was almost a shout now, and he slid onto his knees in front of Olly, grabbing his hand. “That’s the point! I’m begging you, Olly. It’s what I want. What I need.”

    Olly stared down at his mate, who was gripping his hand like a lifeline. “Jamie, mate, listen to yourself. You’re asking for something that—”

    Jamie cut him off again, this time more forcefully, grabbing Olly’s hand and pushing it toward his own face, even slipping Olly’s thick fingers into his mouth. His eyes were wild, desperate. “Do it, Olly. Swallow me. I’m ready, please.”

    Olly pulled his hand back, his breath coming quicker now, a lump forming in his throat. He didn’t like the way Jamie’s voice was cracking, the way his body trembled. He looked away, unable to meet Jamie’s gaze. “I can’t, mate. I just... can’t.”

    Jamie, trembling now, grabbed Olly’s hand again, shoving it back against his lips, almost pushing the fingers into his mouth. “You can! You fucking can, Olly! Just—just start! Please!” His words were muffled now, desperate, as he pushed his face against Olly’s palm, his breath ragged.

    Olly felt his heart hammering in his chest, his mind racing. Every instinct told him to push Jamie away, to stop this madness, but... he couldn’t ignore the way Jamie was begging for it. For him.

    Olly let out a deep sigh, his hand still hovering near Jamie's face, feeling his mate’s hot breath on his skin. He could see it now, plain as day—the bulge straining against Jamie’s jeans, his eyes glazed over with lust. “You’re fuckin’ serious, aren’t ya?” Olly muttered, shaking his head in disbelief. “Bloody hell, you’re even hard.”

    Jamie’s face flushed, but he didn’t pull away. His hand was already pressing against the front of his jeans, rubbing slow circles over his erection as he stared up at Olly. “Please, Ol. I... I want it,” he whispered, voice thick with need.

    Olly chuckled darkly, his wide chest rising and falling under his shirt as he looked down at Jamie, eyes narrowing. “You’re a proper filthy fucker, Jamie. Look at you. Gaggin’ for it.” He leaned forward, his large hand gripping Jamie’s chin. “Alright then, let’s see if you’re really up for this.”

    Olly sat up a bit straighter, leaning his hefty frame forward, looming over Jamie. Slowly, deliberately, he opened his mouth, letting his thick, wet tongue slide out, close enough for Jamie to feel the heat of his breath. “Last chance to bail, mate,” Olly teased, but he knew what he’d see.

    Jamie’s breathing hitched, his hand squeezing his bulge harder as he rubbed himself through his jeans. “Fuck... Olly... do it,” he panted, his voice barely above a whisper, his body trembling with a mix of fear and arousal.

    Olly growled low in his throat, shaking his head as he leaned in. His lips parted further, and with a slow, almost agonizing pace, he let his tongue drag across Jamie’s cheek, tasting the salt of his skin. His other hand gripped Jamie’s jaw, holding him in place. “You’re a right horny bastard, Jamie. Bet you’d cum just from this, wouldn’t ya?” His voice was thick with amusement, his words a taunt.

    Without waiting for a response, Olly pushed forward, letting Jamie’s head press into his mouth. His tongue slid across Jamie’s face, tasting the sweat and heat, the salty tang of his skin. No hesitation now. Olly was done teasing. His thick lips stretched wider as he pushed Jamie’s head deeper inside, the warmth of his mouth engulfing him.

    Jamie’s body tensed for a second, but not out of fear. His hands moved faster, one unzipping his jeans in a rush, shoving them down just enough to grip his cock. “Fuck… Olly...” he groaned, panting hard as his fingers wrapped tight around his shaft, jerking it fast, slick from precum. The pressure of Olly’s mouth on him only spurred him on.

    Olly sucked hard, his tongue swirling around Jamie’s head, tasting every inch of his skin. His breath was hot and heavy, nose pressed against Jamie’s neck, sucking him deeper. With a grunt, he tugged Jamie closer, guiding him further inside, lips sealed tight around his mate’s face.

    Jamie’s voice was a muffled moan, barely making it past Olly’s throat. His hands worked faster, jerking himself off like his life depended on it, muttering a string of curses under his breath. “Fuck… oh, fuck...”

    Olly could feel the way Jamie was squirming, the way his body trembled, and it made him grin around his mouthful. “Told you… you were a filthy fucker,” he growled, though his words were muffled now too. He pushed Jamie in further, feeling the hard, quick movements of Jamie’s hands as he rubbed his cock furiously, already dripping.

    He was halfway there. No turning back now.

    With a rough shove, Olly’s throat opened wider, pulling Jamie’s shoulders inside with a wet, heavy gulp. Jamie groaned, the sensation of being swallowed sending shivers down his spine. But it also made his movements awkward, leaving him unable to jerk his cock the way he had been. He tried, hand fumbling down his stomach to reach himself, but the angle was all wrong, and his arm was half-pinned by Olly’s throat.

    Olly’s eyes flicked down, noticing Jamie’s desperate struggle to keep going, trying to grip himself. With a low, teasing laugh, Olly grabbed Jamie’s hand, immobilizing it in one strong fist.

    "Nah, mate," Olly growled, his voice thick and muffled around the mass of his friend in his mouth. "I'll take over."

    Before Jamie could say anything, Olly’s free hand wrapped around his cock, big fingers gripping tight, stroking in rhythm. The rough skin dragged over Jamie’s slick shaft, and the reaction was instant. Jamie’s hips bucked, but Olly’s grip held him steady, keeping him in place as he swallowed him deeper, mouth working over Jamie’s chest now.

    "F-fuck!" Jamie gasped, chest heaving with labored breaths, his voice strangled as Olly's throat clenched tight around his body. His cock throbbed in Olly’s hand, leaking more with every rough pump.

    Olly didn’t stop. He worked Jamie’s cock harder, teasing the head with his thumb, fingers sliding over every inch with precise, almost possessive motions. Each stroke sent shudders through Jamie’s body, trapped as he was, his head foggy from the heat of Olly’s mouth. The suction was tight, the wet warmth of it seemed to seep into Jamie’s bones, and a loud burp escaped Olly’s lips as Jamie slid deeper into him. "Hah, didn’t think that’d happen so soon,"

    Swallowing again, Olly dragged him deeper, groaning low in his throat, vibrating through Jamie’s whole body. Jamie could only moan, his free hand twitching uselessly at his side as Olly controlled everything—his cock, his body, the very air he breathed.

    The pace quickened, Olly’s grip growing firmer. "Bet you love this, yeah?" Olly muttered, the words almost swallowed along with Jamie as his tongue slid over his chest.

    Olly didn't waste any more time. With a strong swallow, Jamie's waist slipped into his throat, his hips the last to clear the stretch of Olly's lips. His tongue worked its way around Jamie's cock, dragging across the sensitive skin, tasting the precum that dripped down. Jamie's muffled moans were barely audible, but the way his body jerked and twitched inside Olly’s mouth told the full story.

    Olly’s tongue wrapped tighter around Jamie’s dick, pressing it against the roof of his mouth as the pressure built up in Jamie’s core. He couldn’t even move his hips to thrust—Olly had total control. Jamie’s hands tried to push or grab something, but he was swallowed too far down, and the pleasure made his body weak. The wet heat of Olly’s mouth around him sent Jamie spiraling.

    His release came hard. Jamie’s body tensed, a sharp muffled cry breaking through the tight seal of Olly’s lips as he spilled against Olly’s tongue, shaking uncontrollably. Olly swallowed again, slow and deliberate, dragging Jamie’s hips and thighs into his throat, pulling him deeper with each gulp.

    Olly barely slowed down as he worked Jamie’s legs into his mouth, the bulge of his gut growing larger, stretching his shirt and pants as Jamie disappeared. With one final, deep swallow, Olly’s stomach expanded over his thighs, a heavy, round weight settling in his gut. He patted his gut, a belch bubbling up as he sighed in satisfaction. “There it is,” Olly chuckled, wiping his lips.

    Jamie was nothing more than a curled-up mass inside, his form outlined in Olly’s skin as the last of him disappeared. His faint, muffled breaths and weak moans vibrated through Olly’s thick belly, lost in the slow groans of digestion as Olly sat back, feeling the weight of his best friend settle deep inside him.

    Jamie shifted inside Olly's gut, adjusting as much as he could in the cramped, tight space. His breath was heavy, but he was smiling, his voice muffled but still teasing. “No coming back from this, mate,” he muttered, giving the inside of Olly’s stomach a soft nudge with his elbow. “You’ve got me now, gonna digest me nice and slow. Bet your slow-ass metabolism is gonna make this real cozy for the next few hours, huh?”

    Olly chuckled, running a hand over the bulging curve of his belly. He could feel Jamie’s movements, the faint outline of his body pressing against his skin. “Cozy now,” Olly smirked, "but we both know what's coming, don’t we?" He gave his gut a pat, feeling Jamie shift in response. “Enjoy it while you can. By tomorrow, it’s gonna be fucking hell in there.”

    For the first couple of hours, Jamie squirmed gently in the wet heat of Olly’s stomach. The tightness around him wasn’t unbearable, more like an intense hug, the walls squeezing him from all sides. The air was thick, humid, making every breath feel like he was inhaling through a wet cloth, but he still felt his heart pounding with adrenaline. The burn hadn’t started yet, just a faint warmth that spread across his skin as Olly’s gut slowly kicked into gear.

    He could feel every ripple, every small movement of Olly’s body as the big man shifted in his chair or walked around. The rhythmic gurgling of digestion had started, but it was slow, almost soothing at this stage. Jamie felt the pressure building around him, but it wasn’t painful yet—just tight, wet, and hot. He couldn’t move much, his limbs pinned in place, but he didn’t mind. It was strangely calming, the feeling of being completely enveloped, his best mate’s stomach holding him in place like he was meant to be there.

    “Bet it feels real snug right now, huh?” Olly teased, leaning back, his fingers rubbing slow circles over the stretched skin of his belly. “Enjoy it while it lasts, ‘cause once I hit the sack and sleep this off, my body’s gonna go into overdrive. By the time I wake up, you’ll be begging me to let you out. Too bad I won’t be able to hear you.”

    Jamie’s muffled laugh echoed inside Olly’s gut. “Better make it quick, then,” he teased back, the sound of his voice barely audible through the layers of flesh and muscle. “I’m not scared.”

    Olly smirked, giving his stomach a harder slap. “We’ll see about that.”

    The night was slow, suffocating, and unbearably hot. Jamie had started out feeling relatively okay, cramped and squeezed tight in Olly’s stomach, but now that familiar burn had escalated into something far worse. The heat around him intensified, and the gurgling of Olly’s gut had become louder, more aggressive as the night wore on. The stomach walls pressed in tighter, kneading and churning him as if they knew exactly what was happening. The process of digestion was underway, and it was far from kind.

    Jamie gritted his teeth, trying to breathe through the discomfort, but each gasp felt shallow and labored. The thick, acidic air was making it impossible to fill his lungs, and every now and then, a ripple of acid would wash over his body, making him wince. His skin felt raw now, the burn more than just heat—actual pain starting to set in. The sensation was creeping slowly, eating away at him bit by bit.

    In the middle of the night, Olly stirred, groaning as he adjusted in his bed. He lazily rubbed his swollen gut, still bloated with the form of his best mate. Even in his sleep, his body was working overtime, and Jamie could feel it. Olly yawned, letting out a deep, echoing burp, waking up just enough to speak, his voice heavy with sleep and amusement.

    "Still kickin' in there, huh?" he mumbled, patting his gut roughly. "Told ya it’d get worse. And trust me, this is just the start, mate. You’re in for a fucking long ride."

    Jamie tried to speak, but his voice was barely a whisper now, his strength drained by the constant assault of Olly’s digestive system. His words were slurred, muffled beyond recognition as he weakly pushed against the walls of Olly’s stomach. "O-Olly… hurts…"

    But Olly either couldn’t hear him, or didn’t care. He chuckled sleepily, his hand tracing the outline of Jamie’s barely discernible form. “Good. S’pose that’s what you wanted, yeah? Don’t start crying about it now.”

    With a cruel smirk, Olly closed his eyes again, falling back asleep while his stomach continued its relentless work. The acids churned around Jamie, sloshing him about as if he were just another meal, his body slowly breaking down bit by bit.

    By the time the sun rose, Jamie was in agony. His skin felt like it was on fire, and the pressure around him had only increased as Olly’s gut squeezed him tighter with each passing hour. Every breath he took felt like swallowing acid, the air so thick and noxious that it made him want to retch. His body felt heavy, sluggish, like it was dissolving from the inside out.

    Olly woke up slowly, stretching and letting out a deep yawn. He groaned, rubbing his gut with a satisfied smirk. His stomach had shrunk a little, but Jamie’s shape was still evident, though softer now. The hours of digestion had already started to take their toll.

    “Still with me, Jamie?” Olly teased, his voice dripping with mock sympathy. He gave his gut a hard slap, making it jiggle as he sat up in bed. “Figured you'd be mush by now, but I guess you’re still hangin’ on. Can’t say that’ll last much longer, though.”

    Jamie’s muffled voice was barely audible, and when he did speak, it was strained, weak, and almost incoherent. “O-Olly… pl-please…”

    But Olly just laughed, rolling out of bed and standing up, his gut still bulging out in front of him. He ran his hands over the swollen mass, feeling how soft Jamie had become inside. “Please what? Please finish you off quicker? Nah, mate, this is gonna take a while. Gotta let my body do its thing, and trust me, it’s not in a hurry.”

    The day dragged on in unbearable agony for Jamie. The pain was constant now, every inch of his body feeling like it was being dissolved, broken down bit by bit. The acids were relentless, eating away at his flesh, and the tightness of Olly’s stomach only made it worse. It felt like he was being crushed, his bones creaking under the pressure, his skin stinging from the corrosive environment.

    Olly, meanwhile, went about his day with a satisfied smirk. His belly was still heavy, though smaller now as Jamie’s body slowly melted away inside him. Every now and then, he’d give his gut a squeeze, feeling the soft mass that used to be his best friend.

    “Damn, Jamie, you’re really breakin’ down in there, huh?” Olly teased, his tone casual but cruel. He leaned back in his chair, rubbing his gut slowly as it gurgled and churned. “Bet it’s hell in there, but you asked for it. Not much left of ya now, but I’m takin’ my time. Gonna enjoy every second of this.”

    Jamie could barely respond. His voice was no more than a faint whisper now, his body too broken down to fight back. All he could do was endure the pain, his mind clouded with the sensation of being slowly dissolved inside Olly’s gut.

    Olly reveled in his control. He’d never felt more powerful than he did now, with Jamie struggling and fading inside him. His massive belly was a constant reminder of the dominance he had over his best friend. Each movement Jamie made was weaker than the last, the once lively body now little more than a mass of pain and suffering, and Olly loved it. He'd give his gut a rough slap from time to time, making it jiggle, then chuckle when he felt Jamie squirm in response.

    "Keep squirming, mate," Olly said with a low growl, his voice thick with amusement. "Not that it’ll do you any good. You're just mush in there now." He leaned back, his gut pressing into his thighs, feeling the slow churn beneath his skin as his stomach worked Jamie down bit by bit. He could almost imagine the flesh melting away, the bones softening, leaving nothing but the faintest outline.

    Inside, Jamie was in sheer agony. His body felt like it was on fire, the acids eating away at him slowly, painfully. Every breath was a battle, the air thick and stinging. He tried to move, to push against the walls of Olly’s stomach, but he had no strength left. His skin burned, every nerve ending lit up with excruciating pain. His muscles ached as they dissolved, the feeling of his body breaking down was unbearable, but he was trapped, helpless inside the unforgiving heat of Olly's belly.

    "Thought you could handle it, huh?" Olly sneered, giving his gut a hard rub. "But you're nothing now. Just food. How's that feel, Jamie? Knowing you're just a lump of meat getting melted away in my stomach." He burped loudly, the sound echoing in the quiet room, followed by the deep gurgle of his gut working away at Jamie's body. "Bet you're regretting it now, huh? Begging me for this. But it’s too late, mate. You're mine."

    Every gurgle, every churn of Olly's stomach was a reminder of his absolute control. He had taken Jamie in, and now he was breaking him down, bit by bit, turning his best mate into nothing more than a mass of digesting flesh. Jamie’s muffled whimpers barely registered to Olly anymore; they were nothing but the last vestiges of a person who had begged for this.

    Olly pressed his hand against his gut, feeling Jamie’s weak movements beneath the surface. “Still kickin’? Guess I’ll let you stew a little longer. Ain’t in any rush to finish you off.” His voice dripped with cruel satisfaction, and he couldn’t help but smirk as he felt Jamie’s form soften further.

    Inside, Jamie was nearing his limit. The pain was constant, his body being slowly consumed by the relentless acids. He wanted to scream, to beg Olly to stop, but his voice was too weak, his body too broken down. All he could do was endure it, praying for the end that he knew was coming, even though Olly seemed determined to make it last as long as possible.

    Over the next few days, Jamie’s body continued to break down. The pain was constant, but his mind had become so foggy that it was hard to even register it fully. He was a mass of barely-there flesh, his body liquefying inside Olly’s stomach, reduced to little more than nutrients.

    Olly’s belly had shrunk considerably, but there was still a faint outline of Jamie left, a reminder of what had once been his best friend. The big man was lazier now, sitting around with his hand resting comfortably on his gut, letting out a low, rumbling burp. A satisfied smirk spread across his face.

    “You’re pretty much gone now, mate,” Olly muttered, giving his belly a rough pat. “Can feel you sloshin’ around in there. Almost finished with ya. Bet you didn’t think it’d take this long, did ya?”

    Jamie’s response was nothing more than a weak, gurgled moan, barely audible through the thick walls of Olly’s stomach.

    Olly chuckled, standing up and giving his gut a final squeeze. “Guess this is it, Jamie. Last day in there. Hope it was worth it, ‘cause once you’re gone, that’s it. No more.”

    And with that, Olly sat back down, letting his body finish the process. His stomach worked slowly, relentlessly, breaking down the last remnants of Jamie over the next several hours. By the time the day was done, Olly’s gut had returned to its normal size, with no trace of his best friend left—just a slight softness where his muscles had once been tight.

    Olly stretched, letting out a satisfied groan as he patted his now-flat belly. “Well, Jamie,” he muttered to himself, “looks like you’re all mine now.”