#implied macro/micro

[twistedtummies2]

Cephalo-Pudge (Post-Vore/Weight Gain; Commission)

This was an interesting experiment. This commission was ordered by @burpsbelliesgalore. They wanted a post-vore story, focusing on Azul keeping  a certain as sentient fat for a whole day, and moving their soul about from one part of his body to another. I thought the idea was appealing and sort of funny, so I decided to give it a try. It was fun to do something a bit new, though I’m not entirely sure when/if I’ll write something quite like this again. We’ll see. :) WARNING: CONTAINS POST-VORE GOODNESS, SPECIFICALLY INCLUDING SENTIENT FAT, WEIGHT GAIN, VERY MILD DIGESTION, AND A FEW BELCHES. ALSO FEATURES IMPLIED REFORMATION, IMPLIED MACRO/MICRO SHENANIGANS, AND IMPLIED STUFFING. YEAH, LOTS OF IMPLICATIONS. :p ANYWAY, DON’T LIKE? TOO YOUNG? DON’T READ!

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GLLLRRRLLLG… Azul Ashengrotto hiccuped and groaned softly in his sleep. His sea blue eyes opened, blearily glancing about briefly at his darkened and most luxurious dorm room. His glasses sat perched upon his nightstand. It was a cool and quiet night in Octavinelle; the bioluminescent lifeforms and the moonlight that shimmered through the ocean water outside his window provided the only illumination the room had. The housewarden’s head rolled in his soft, satiny pillow; a very mild frown fell across his handsome, pale face as he noticed the time on the clock on his wall. The frown softened slightly as he turned his head the other way, and saw the white jacket and telltale sash that indicated how recently he had celebrated his birthday. It was hard to feel too upset with that in mind; it had been a good day, after all. While he really could have stood to NOT get a pie in the face at the Union building, he understood it was tradition for the school; and besides, with Jamil as his selected interviewer, he’d had little to complain about there. And, after all, that had only been the beginning of the…benefits the day had yielded. BRRRLLLRRRB…! A louder rumble drew Azul’s attention to his middle. A soft, sleepy smile now played across his face, his beauty mark quirking upwards as a puff of amusement left his perfect nose. The octo-boy in disguise was laying on his bed, topless, his bottom half clad in nothing but a loose-fitting pair of black and violet pajama bottoms. One might have been surprised to see him topless, presently uncovered by his blankets, given the cool temperature…but Azul found resting this way soothing. Especially on a full stomach. And Azul had a VERY full stomach that night. While one of his arms was laying limp upon the covered mattress, the other rose up, allowing one of his well-manicured hands to rest upon his belly. The mafioso-styled dorm leader’s abdomen was noticeably swollen, his gut round as if he had swallowed a decent-sized melon all in one gulp. It was the gurgling and churning of his stomach that had awakened Ashengrotto. He hummed softly, craning his neck to gaze upon his full stomach with a sort of contemplative expression. The young head of Octavinelle pressed upon his gut; it made a thick, mucky “slushing” sound. He could feel the soft, goopy mush that the meal he’d ingested had become… “Mmmmm…I’m probably going to regret all these calories in the morning,” he mumbled, but it was hard for him to sound too miffed. A little shiver went through him as a squealing sort of squelching came from his gut. His eyes fluttered closed as he lay his head back again, then he gripped his fingers into his sagging stomach more firmly. “Oooooh…at the moment, I’m…not feeling especially bothered, however…” Just then, a different sensation inside his stomach made Azul’s eyes open wide again. He craned his head upwards once more to look at his belly. It jolted slightly to one side, then the other; a muffled sound could be heard, almost muted by the busy churning of his stomach. Azul blinked twice…then his smile shifted, becoming his trademark sly, supercilious smirk. “Awww…is my little angelfish still solid in there?” he cooed, and cupped the underside of his belly possessively with one hand. “I have to admit, I’m a little surprised. Not disappointed. But surprised.” He let his head rest back on the pillow. Your squirms continued to nudge against the lining of his stomach; Azul sighed happily, stroking and caressing his belly as you wriggled about inside of him. “You shouldn’t be feeling any pain, thanks to that spell I used,” he mumbled. “Which means you’re either moving because you want to…” One finger began to trace circles around his navel. “...Or because you know I love the feeling,” he sighed out blissfully. “Either way…I’m going to presume that means you’re enjoying yourself in there.”

WHURLMPH. Azul’s smile vanished and he grimaced as a particularly harsh nudge to his stomach walls disrupted a pocket of gas. He lifted a fist to his, his cheeks ballooning as he repressed a deep, rumbling belch, blowing the excess gas free and fanning the air before his face subtly. “BRRRLLLMMMRRRP…phoosh! Ugh…so uncivilized,” Ashengrotto mumbled, and gave a sort of petulant glance towards his stomach. “You’re more wicked than most people give you credit for: first making me that…absolutely IMMENSE birthday dinner, then deciding you’re going to not only risk making me fat, but also give me gas?” He slapped his stomach; it jiggled. “Naughty,” he scolded. Another muffled noise - perhaps you firing back with some snarky comment - came from Azul’s stomach. He smirked at the garbled sound, a sinister gleam in his eye. Just because you wouldn’t feel pain didn’t mean you would stay solid. After all, that had been part of the contract. “Just remember, my angelfish,” he cooed, running his fingers across the middle of his belly. “Starting first thing in the morning, you’ll be spending the next 24 hours as a part of me. I hope you’re looking forward to it…” He yawned and allowed his eyes to close once more. “...I know I am…I just hope all that food doesn’t leave TOO big an impact on my body…” With this final, tired mumbled, Azul rolled onto his side in his bed. His gut GLORSHED noisily as gravity shifted; your tiny, steadily-softening body slogged with the rest of the sludge - a mixture of ice cream, cake, and various deep fried foods - with the change of direction. A muffled moaning sound came from you as you sloshed around in the simmering stew. Outside. Azul let out a soft, low burp in his sleep, already drifting back into dreamland. As he rested, one hand continued to rest and occasionally scratch at his stomach. His slumbering expression was one of deepest, most joyous satisfaction. He’d had a birthday to remember…and the next day was going to be just as memorable. Although, perhaps, for different reasons…

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“Under the Sea! Under the Sea! Darling, it’s better down where it’s wetter, take it from-!” A growl accompanied Azul’s hand slapping over his cell phone and silencing the alarm he had set to wake him up. “I do so LOATHE that song,” he grumbled…but he supposed he couldn’t blame anyone but himself. After all, he’s the one who chose the ringtone. His logic had been that picking something that would annoy him would urge him to awaken faster…logic that, to its credit, DID work…perhaps too well…but that was all another story. Azul yawned and sat up in his bed; a light groan left him as he smoothed some of his pale gray hair out of his face. He scrubbed at his eyes and started to stand up from his bed… …Then paused. His groggy, bleary optics widened, a jolt of alertness shooting through his body. He felt…heavier. As if some sort of weight was hanging from his body, around his waist and his hips. If one has ever experienced gaining any great degree of weight, then one would know that the sensation is gradual. One typically doesn’t NOTICE they are getting heavier or larger, because the weight accumulates over an elongated period of time. But imagine if one suddenly gained a large amount of weight literally overnight. Then they would have known how Azul felt. Azul cursed under his breath and groaned louder than before, hauling himself up and stumbling towards the built-in bathroom of his dorm suite. He splashed water across his face grouchily; he’d known he would regret the feast he’d had the night before - his little angelfish included in the mix - but he hadn’t expected to regret it THIS immediately. Sighing agitatedly, Azul dabbed at his face with a towel and briefly glanced into his bathroom mirror. He could only really see his upper half in the glass’ reflection, and that alone was already enough to concern him…but without his glasses, it was hard to see just HOW bad the damage really was. The octo-boy in disguise stomped back into the main bedroom of his dorm quarters, and scooped up his spectacles from the nightstand. He thankfully had a second mirror in his room, directly beneath his clock. This one was a full-size looking-glass. Azul stepped in front of the mirror…blinked…then scowled. “Damn it to Hades,” he muttered, and a slight blush seemed to paint his cheeks. “I knew I…I shouldn’t have had so much of the cake…” Azul almost seemed to wince as his hands explored his bare belly. While he could sense that his stomach was now empty, his gut was actually not much smaller than it had been when he’d been awakened the night before. The difference was that instead of being swollen with digesting slurry from the inside, the softness, warmth, and roundness were all the result of a large amount of pudge that had gathered around his middle. His once lean but slightly curvy figure had become noticeably plumper, a doughy paunch now pooching over the low-set waistband of his pajama bottoms. It really wasn’t much, just a slight bit more belly…but the way Azul grimaced as he gripped the building love handles on the sides indicated it was more than enough to bother him. It didn’t get any better when Azul turned himself about in his mirror; an anxious look came into his eyes, his blush intensifying as he felt his heart beat in a flustered, frustrated way. His aforementioned pajama bottoms hugged his hips VERY tightly; Azul placed his hands upon them and pulled them away to see just how wide they had gotten. The difference from before he’d clocked out into a food coma the evening before to now was uncomfortable to him. Then there was his backside. Azul wasn’t sure he could blush any more fiercely, but it seemed that he was learning he had more blood to pump into his own face than he realized. His embarrassment was as plain as the cleft between his cheeks, as - even with the loose-fitting pajama pants - he could tell that a great deal of the weight had gone to his thighs and his rump. They were much, MUCH thicker than they had been the night before. Even through the black-and-purple fibers, Azul’s fingers could feel an ample “squishiness” to his rear end that hadn’t been so obvious before. “Damn,” he said again, running his hands along the curve of his butt, flushed with embarrassment and a hint of nerves. “I hope I can fit into my uniform pants still…urgh, I can already guess the sorts of things Floyd and Jade will say…” If it’s any consolation, I think you look better this way. Azul nearly jumped as he heard a voice seemingly in his own head. He blinked, then redirected his attention to his stomach. He placed both hands upon the mildly portly abdomen he now sported, as if to keep it steady. “Angelfish?” he whispered. Then he spoke a bit louder. “Prefect? Is that you?” Your own voice responded to him. Well, I’m not your conscience. Azul smirked almost despite himself. One hand adjusted his glasses as the other tenderly stroked his belly with his fingertips. “Good to know that your…transformation has not hindered your sense of humor,” he teased. You shivered, despite the endless, bountiful warmth that surrounded you. Azul smirked a bit wider as he could actually feel the slightest, almost imagined tremor of his plumpened underbelly. Good to know that gaining a bit of weight hasn’t ruined yours, your consciousness responded. Azul frowned anew, his hand still petting his belly as he looked back into the reflection and sighed. “Vargas is going to be an absolute pain today, I can already feel it,” he almost whined. I’d apologize, but I’d have to feel sorry first. Azul glared down at his gut and gave it a slap. A squeak left your mind - for you could not REALLY speak, only…think in conversation, if such a phrase could be imagined. “You knew this would happen, didn’t you?” Azul pouted. I have been told I’m VERY fattening, even when shrunken down, your mind responded; you weren’t sure how you could hyperventilate when you had no lungs, but that was the best sensation to describe your own flustered feelings. You…you m-might not want to…to “punish” me like that, I…w-wow, this feels good… “I’m glad one of us is having a good time,” muttered Azul. Then he smirked anew. “I hope you realize your contract is…” He bit his lip as he kneaded into his belly fat; he had to admit, that felt…pretty good… “...Binding,” he almost growled, then his voice returned to its usual velvety, silky smoothness. “Until the exact same hour you lost consciousness inside my stomach last night, you belong to my body. I can make this experience beautiful for you…” He gave his gut a slight jiggling shake; a slightly sadistic, self-satisfied expression crossed his smirking face. “...Or I can make it torture,” he breathed out, dangerously. I’m not sure they’re not the same thing, you loopily managed to think-say in reply. Azul chuckled through his nose and shook his head, raising one eyebrow, the slight drop of cruelty in his face giving way to affectionate amusement. He’d known for a long time about your “kinks,” the fantasies inside your head. Sometime ago, he’d given you a chance to act them out by becoming part of his rump for a time. For his birthday, you had offered him a chance to feel that sensation again, for having your sentient ego as part of his body, after turning your own form into nutrients and lipid-layering, was as gorgeous to him as it was heavenly to you. It was a selfish sort of gift, but you hoped the excellent meal you’d made would make up for it. Even now, Azul was questioning if the birthday bargain you’d made with him had been for his benefit or your own, primarily. “You must be very proud of yourself right about now,” he said, and turned to face his mirror, allowing your mind’s eye to see through his own optics. You could not only feel the warm, soft hand caressing the tummy pudge your entire existence had been reduced to, but you could see the way his palm and fingers moved across the patch of padding you’d been turned into. I…I am…ohhhh, that’s…that’s s-so good…please don’t stop… Azul rolled his eyes. “You seem to think I’m obligated to do things for your benefit,” he purred…then gave his belly a pat, his smile fading as he sighed softly and turned on his heel, marching towards his wardrobe. “Well, unfortunately for you, I’m not nearly as pleased with these gains as you are. And as soon as I get you OFF my body, I’m going to work very hard to work the pounds off, too.” Spoilsport. Azul glared half-heartedly and gave his belly a squeezing knead. He waited till he sensed your ego squealing before giving a vengeful sort of smile. A shiver went through him; he was blushing again, but this time for different reasons. His toes curled against the floor. He had to give humanoid bodies that credit: curling one’s tentacles didn’t have quite the same feeling or effect. Shaking his head to clear it, and letting out a shaky breath, Azul grabbed his school uniform from his wardrobe, and began to get dressed. Even if you’d been allowed to see the world from a “belly’s eye view,” you wouldn’t have been able to see much, as his shirt soon shrouded your “vision.” Being sentient fat was…difficult to describe. You could feel the belly around you; you could sense everything, but you could not move or speak of your own volition. You could think. You could do emotions. But actual motor functions and nearly all other senses of…well…sense were out the window. You were surrounded by warmth; like you were wrapped up in a dozen blankets. It wasn’t uncomfortable, however; it was as if you had been in an Arctic tundra and had just come into a scene from a Rockwell painting. (You wondered if anybody in this world knew what those were.) You could feel yourself sway; you could feel Azul’s hand touch you, feel the way his body shifted around you. You could sense his heartbeat, and dimly detect the smell of the stomach you’d spent so much time in. You probably should have been deeply disturbed, freaked out, or some other negative status…but instead, you felt…happy. You could feel a sense of pride and even a sense of strange contentment. Your fantasies, in this world, could easily be realities…and you felt safe inside of Azul’s body. Your soul nestled into the bountiful beauty of his belly, ready to strap itself in for the long haul… Azul was more or less unaware of all these musings on your part. After all, he had more important things to worry about than his own belly fat. Foremost of the bunch was getting dressed. He scowled and sneered, grunting as he fitted the buttons of his shirt and vest over his rounded midsection. The buttons of his blazer refused to reclasp, so - with a sigh of defeat - he simply let his jacket hang open, self-consciously squirming as he noted the way his belly pressed firmly against the insides of his buttoned-up top clothes. Next came changing into his trousers. At first, things went smoothly, and Azul began to feel a bit more cheerful…but that changed when it felt like his pants hit the blubbery equivalent of a brick wall upon meeting his rear. He grunted a few times before finally managing to shimmy his pants upward, hiking them over the wobbling tush-globes and grumbling as he fiddled with the fastener and the zipper. Finally, once it was done, he lashed his belt around his pants…mostly to make sure they wouldn’t burst open again. “Why do these things always go to my lower areas?” he groused, and sighed before fastidiously brushing himself off. He took a few deep breaths as he slipped his gloves onto his hands. He had to keep his cool. It was just one day, keeping all this weight…well, that was a lie. He’d have to deal with this for a while until he worked it all off. He glared again, eyes hard and sharp as shards of blue bottle glass. “As soon as I let you out of me,” he addressed your soul, softly squeezed in the hammock of his belly, “We are having a talk about the effect YOUR prurient desires have on my body.” I wouldn’t have it any other way, your soul replied, in a sleepy sort of way, indicating you were probably thinking of them in a way quite different from Azul’s. Ashengrotto snorted and rolled his eyes, then - adjusting his tie - he began to walk out of the room. He flinched as he heard the fabric of his trousers creak around his buttocks. He silently made a note to try not to bend over at any point if he could manage it: he was quite sure a little too much pressure in the wrong direction would case his pants to pop apart at the seams. “It’s going to be quite a long day,” he mumbled. Even as he spoke though, he couldn’t keep his hands off his own belly. Once he noticed, he flushed and hurriedly stuffed them into his pockets, eyes resolutely looking at anything but his gut as he stalked through the halls of Octavinelle, trying to stay focused on his schedule. He refused to admit how GOOD it felt to just…hold his own belly…especially knowing his precious Prefect was packed inside.

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The scratching of the pen on parchment was rough and coarse. It matched Azul’s cross mood as he sat ill-temperedly in Mozus Trein’s classroom, hastily taking notes from the Professor’s lecture. The old man was giving a long-winded sermon on the history of the dark and fabled art of necromancy…a subject that Azul would have found more fascinating if he weren’t in a state of molar-grating annoyance. All morning so far, before and after classes, he’d been dealing with people pointing out his abruptly added pounds. Floyd had laughed for what seemed like hours when Azul walked into the Mostro Lounge to give his orders for the day (the twins had the day off from classes). His eyes had sparkled with joy as he had invaded Azul’s space to poke and prod at his sides and his belly, making playful little “boop-boop” noises as he did so. “Awwww, chubby baby Azuuuuul! He’s baaaack!” sang out Floyd with an absolutely giddy grin. “Can I squeeze ya? Huh? Can I? Your tummy looks soooo squishable, like a big stress ball!” Azul had spluttered and swatted him away with many a flustered sound. Jade, naturally, had been no help at all. He’d chuckled through his nose, one finger to his chin, eyes gleaming with devilish amusement. His smile showed the slightest hint of his pointed teeth. “I must say, you’re looking…appetizingly healthy today,” he had teased, gently. “I suppose the Prefect made for an excellent dessert to their clearly nourishing dinner, hmmm?” Of course Azul had told the eel-men about the deal he’d made with you: after all, you were his significant other, and so your business was his, and his business was usually theirs. You wondered if Azul could feel the way you blushed at the note of how much you and the food you’d made for him had filled out his adipose tissue…just as you wondered if the rush of intensifying warmth you felt briefly was because he was blushing at Jade’s words. The Leech Twins had been just the beginning. You’d felt Azul’s belly bounce and wobble around you as he walked through the halls of Night Raven College. You could hear the voices of students around you, and nearly all of them had something to say about Azul’s overnight gains… “Shishishishi! Looks like I’ve got some competition as Chief Greedy Gut on campus, huh, Azul?” teased Ruggie Bucchi, giving a poke right to Azul’s navel, which wobbled above you. “Hey, did you swallow a bowling ball for your birthday?” laughed Ace Trappola. “Wow, Azul! You must have had a REALLY nice dinner last night!” cheered Kalim Al-Asim. “Hey, how come I wasn’t invited to the party?” Vil Schoenheit had simply turned up his nose with a scoff, while Rook blushed bright red and muttered some rather randy words in French. Azul had yet to see either of the Shroud brothers, but he imagined - with the way those two spent their days - by now they were probably snickering to each other about the situation sight unseen. One response had been legitimately mortifying, and that was the redoubtable Malleus Draconia himself. On his way to Trein’s classroom, Azul had run into the dark prince of the fae whilst rounding a bend in the corridor. Malleus had given him a placid, practiced smile in return; it reminded Azul far too much of Jade’s signature, sneaky expressions, which always promised something dangerous beneath an appealing and polite facade. It was a look Azul was on the route to mastering, himself. He knew it well. “Well,” Malleus said. “This is a pleasant surprise. I see you had a decent meal last night, Ashengrotto.” Azul had concurred this was true. Malleus had nodded in response, then raised an eyebrow, casting an eye down towards the center of Azul’s bloated middle. “And how is…your little mate?” he asked, in a careful sort of way, as if trying to be polite. It was more than an open secret, your whereabouts. Azul couldn’t help himself; he smirked a greedy sort of smirk, patting his belly - and making you wobble about on his warm, silky underbelly area, ripples going through your form. You could sense the possessiveness of his touch, the pride in his motions: it seemed, while he didn’t like gaining weight…he DID like gaining YOU. If you’d had the capacity to blush while being blubber, you would have been the color of a beet. “I think they’re feeling closer to me than ever before,” Azul had practically purred. There was a hint of a gloat in his voice. “That is good,” replied Malleus, narrowing his toxic green eyes. “Provided that is what they want.” “Well, it doesn’t particularly matter what my food wants, does it?” Azul responded. You had whimpered in the back of his mind at that; you knew he was saying this for your benefit, not Draconia’s. “But rest assured, I’m taking VERY good care of them.” Evidently, this tease had been the exact wrong thing to say around Malleus Draconia. You had felt the body all around you stiffen, as Malleus had leaned in close to glare into Azul’s eyes, his voice dropping to a deadly sort of whisper. “I understand your satisfaction, but I would advise you to mind your own avaricious nature, Ashengrotto. As pleasurable as it may be to hoard your little mate away all to yourself, one can be perhaps TOO greedy and gluttonous for their own good. Don’t forget: they may be your mate…” A slight hint of a snarl came into the dragon’s voice. “...But they are also my friend.” Azul’s possessive satisfaction had faded quickly then in a slew of hastily uttered apologies. Even now, seated in Trein’s class, he shuddered at the memory. “First you bloat me like a balloon,” he muttered to himself, glaring down at his belly between notes, “Then you nearly get me barbecued. Is it possible to get a divorce when marriage isn’t even instituted yet?” Well, technically, we’re already bound, was your quipping reply. Azul just glared more harshly, placing a hand to his temple as he tried to concentrate. It was hard to do so. His fingers fidgeted, wanting to play with his own belly; he could feel your energy, your warmth, stored inside of his body…it was like constant stream of oxytocin, dopamine, and serotonin were all being pumped through his body from the general area of his underbelly. He bit his lip, as he could sense your pleasure just as easily as you could sense his. You were enjoying your placement far too much…and probably too much pride at your accomplishments. The “cephalo-punk” glanced to the sides, where he noticed some students were STILL staring at his newfound rotundity. A flustered sort of glare came to his face and he looked to see if Trein was watching. He wasn’t: the wizened professor was busy trying to help a couple of Heartslabyul students at the other end of the lecture hall. A cunning smirk came to Azul’s lips. He put down his pen and looked down at his gut from behind his hand. To an outside observer, his posture would have made it seem he were simply thinking very hard…and in a way, he was. I take it being belly fat is approvable to you? He sent the thought your way. You wondered if sounds like whimpers and moans were real sounds to Azul in your current state, or if he could just sense the emotions the way one would interpret those noises. Whatever the case, he smirked wider was the obvious pleasure only increased. Well, since you’ve been SUCH a good little tummy pet, I’m going to give you an even better reward, he cooed mentally, in a tone that seemed sarcastic and sincere, somehow, at the same time. Hold onto your mind… Before you could ponder what that meant, Azul slipped the hand that had been holding his pen under his desk and placed it on his belly. Then, he ran his fingers across his sides, down along his hips…and shifted his posture to give his butt a subtle pat on the cheek. Beneath his pants, the glute wobbled slightly. Then he lifted his hand, a newfound smugness on his face as he picked up his pen and returned to his note taking at the same time Trein had returned to the blackboard to continue his lecture. No one, as far as he could tell, had noticed. What no one knew or would have likely been able to guess was that the motions had not been idle: what took him less than ten seconds felt like ten minutes, or even ten hours, to you. A sudden pulling sensation seemed to grab hold of your trapped mind; you had the feeling of being dragged through something - something thick, warm, and strangely-textured. All thought and all emotion became fuzzy and faint; hazy, like being pulled along through a dream. Then, after a sort of spinning, swimming sensation - like being whirled around in a typhoon - you finally found your soul coming to a rest… …And that was when you felt the weight. So. Much. WEIGHT. Pressing down all around you with oppressive, omnipotent ponderousness. You couldn’t move as it was, yet somehow you felt as if you wanted to squirm…and, of course, even if you’d had a body, you wouldn’t have been able to. You could feel your “body” being pressed, pushed down, all that weight firmly smushing the thick chub into a hard surface. You could not speak, yet words failed you; only frantic, confused thoughts, a mixture of arousal and intense bewilderment flooding your smothered spirit. Your essence flared with blaring signals of all sorts, from pleasure at the domination you were experiencing - so tightly kept, so helpless to resist or escape - and the fear and confusion that came with all that was going on. As if to try and help settle your broken mind. Azul wiggled in his seat. It was a simple action no one would have taken much notice of, especially since his eyes remained fixed on either Professor Trein or his own notes…but to you, it felt like you were being mashed and dragged and pressed out. The sensation was like a vigorous massage, encapsulating all of your body; jolts of pain and pleasure swallowing up your soul. A-Azul…! “Shhhhh,” he uttered aloud, then thought the rest of his comforting statement: It’s alright, angelfish. I’m here. I’m everywhere. I’m all around you. I’m just putting you…in your favorite place. If you could keen like a puppy, you would have done so then. You knew what that meant. Of all the parts of Azul’s body you loved most, nothing compared to his butt: considering so much of what he ate, in any amount, tended to go to his thick hips, thicker thighs, and matching thick glutes, you knew that all the pounds he’d put on had to make his ass truly MASSIVE now…and you were just BURIED in it. There was no escape from the unrelenting avalanche of rump meat that surrounded you. Is…this…reward…or…punishment? your crackling mind managed to stutter out. Azul smirked and responded by lifting his rump up slightly and dropping it again. Once more, it was a simple, swift movement - to any onlooker, he was just adjusting his seating posture for comfort’s sake - but to you, it felt like your entire universe was lifted up and SLAMMED down. You bobbled. Your whole being shook with his weight. The warm was more intense here than ever, and the musk was potent in your nonexistent nostrils. You were fused to his fat ass, and you could sense from the way he hummed around and above you that he loved that feeling. Both, was Azul’s single response in thought. Then, just to further drive home how totally he owned your being, Ashengrotto gave his glutes a hard flex, and the whole universe seemed to cave in around you, the pressure and heat intensifying; you swore it was like being pressed on all sides by his stomach again…except instead of slime and stench, all you could experience was his WEIGHT! Finally, Azul relaxed - once again, second seemed like hours to you - and you were left breathless (not that you needed breath) beneath his booty…no, WITHIN his booty. You once more wished you could truly whimper; it was the only sound to express your emotional status. You’d been sat on by Azul a few times - once he’d learned THAT dirty secret about you, he was VERY keen to play with it in private - but nothing compared to the sensations of being part of his fat butt. And now that it was fatter than ever… All thought trailed off as Azul glanced back and downwards over his shoulder with a sort of slimy smirk, then innocently went back to taking notes. He had to admit, right now, he was feeling much better about the added weight. It was so much easier to play with you now. “Don’t get too comfortable, my little pet,” he whispered to himself. “This day is still just getting started…”

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For the rest of the day, Azul decided to give you a full tour of what it was like to be a part of his body. Not just his butt, nor his belly, but his BODY. Once he had realized how good it felt to feel your confusion and flustered bafflement each time he moved you to a new portion of his form, he decided there was nothing to do but keep transferring your soul from one part of his anatomy to another. Once class with Trein had finished, Azul had kept you on his arse for a little while. You’d felt the way his booty bounced around behind him, and sensed how the cheeks bumped against each other, as if punishing themselves for being too big. Azul did not strut with pride to show off these gains - he was more concerned with the idea of his trousers splitting - but nevertheless, you could feel the way his thighs pumped beneath you, and how his hips helped you sway. Those parts of his body were the next ones you visited. His hips came first, as Azul went to Alchemy class, where his labcoat helped to hide just how much more girth he had put on. With the long, pristine white coat covering him down to his knees, he let your soul rise. You felt as if your entire being was split in half, changing from one solid mass spread across some portion of his blubbery bum, and now fractioned between the two sides of his pelvis. Every time he brushed something off on his labcoat, his hands slapped through the fabric against you. You could feel the way those hips bucked and rocked as he waltzed about the laboratory, fetching vials and beakers and other instruments, as well as numerous potions and chemical compounds, all for the sake of his assignments that day. For him, they were simple, everyday movements. For you, it was like being on a swing ride at an amusement park. He seemed to have more confidence in his stride as he left Alchemy - you could feel the way each side of you was thrust up and then dropped down, repeatedly, as he strolled about the campus - but he lost that confidence when he had to attend Vargas’ class. As expected, Vargas was quick to criticize Azul’s gains, and exercise period was particularly harsh as a result. It appeared Azul was eager to share his misery (or, for you, perhaps it was better written as “misery”), because that was when he transferred you to his thighs. You could actually feel the way they squeezed, pressing into his broomstick, and the way they worked as he engaged in other exercises at the coach’s orders. Every jogging step, every lunge, made your world twist and stretch and press down around you. If you’d still had a skull, you would have sworn it was being repeatedly crunched in between those mighty thighs and heavy hams. Finally, exercise period stopped. But the day still went on. Azul would quietly slip you between those three lower sections, on a neverending loop, over and over again: you swayed and quaked along on his hips as he walked, found yourself squeezed in the inner portion of his legs as he ate, and felt the way his hips rocked whenever he sat down for class or business. For the most part, Azul ignored your flustered responses, aside from simply soaking in the sensations they caused for him. But once in a while, some words would float down towards your soul as it suffered pleasures and enjoyed agonies, all untold. Sometimes the words were teasing and affectionate… Mmmm…you seem to like it when I press my thighs together…perhaps when you get your body back, we’ll put that to good use? Sometimes they were downright mocking… I bet you wish you were back on my belly by now, don’t you, silly little angelfish? And on more than one occasion, they were petulant and scolding. I hope you’re happy with yourself: I swear, as soon as I find grounds to blackmail Cater, I will END HIM for taking that wretched photo…! These last ones alway got a mental giggle out of you. The rest of the time, you didn’t think so much as simply…felt. Simply soaked in every sensation these different activities pushed into your swallowed, submissive soul. Time was a funny thing, when one was octo-flab. Everything seemed slower than it should have been, yet everything moved much too fast at the same time. It was deeply disorienting. You could not see anything, nor smell much beyond Azul’s own natural odor, which seemed to be inescapably around you at all times; not vile, but certainly intoxicating. All you could really do was hear without lugholes, and feel without digits. Nevertheless, you knew when the day finally ground its way to a halt. You could tell not only from the way the body all around you seemed to slump slightly with weariness, but from the sound you somehow detected of what could only be his dorm room door opening and closing…followed by the scraping of the lock as it was fastened tight. “By the Sea Witch, what a day,” sighed Azul, with great exhaustion. Ashengrotto removed his glasses, one long-fingered hand ruffling his own hair as he leaned back against the door. Your soul - presently occupying his hips - squeaked as you felt the vibrations of the impact swerve through your fat-based framework. Is…is it over? You managed to finally eep out. They were some of the very few cognizant words you’d managed to utter that whole day after your first transference to octo-boy buttocks had happened. Azul gave a tired sort of smile up towards the ceiling. He chuckled. “For me, basically, yes,” he murmured, then slid his eyes downwards as he stroked his hips softly through his tight pants. “Have you enjoyed the ride so far, my sweet?” Probably more than you have, you responded honestly. “Oh, I’m not sure about that,” Azul chuckled, and stepped away from the door, slipping off his blazer and hanging it up in a sweeping, swooping set of motions. “After all, having my favorite human occupying my newfound folds was…exhilarating, in some places.” Yeah, but…it was pretty embarrassing for you in other places. Azul frowned as he undid his tie and then began to unbutton his vest and shirt. “Yes,” he conceded. “But…I’m surprised you’re feeling bothered by that now.” I’m not, you insisted, hurriedly. Azul hummed, unconvinced, then shrugged and removed the rest of his garments. Soon, he was in naught but his underwear. He sighed, noticing the stretch marks that had formed along them. “For the record, you’re worth every pound. Having said that…you really did a number on my body,” he mumbled, pressing his hands into his hips firmly, as if nudging them into your soul buried inside. You would have quivered if you could. I…I definitely f-feel like…I must have, you replied. Azul sniffed softly, somewhat snootily and patted his hips, then groped his rump with a grimace. “It will take weeks to work all this off,” he groused…then paused before adding more quietly. “That is…If I work it all off…” There was a pause. Wh-what? You piped up, inquisitively. Azul sighed. He squirmed where he stood as he fetched his pajama bottoms. “I’m…going to admit, I…might have actually…LIKED having a little extra weight on me, in some cases,” he grumbled. There was a pause. Then your soul began to giggle. The giggle became a mental laugh. Azul flushed more than ever and growled, removing his glasses in a flash and slapping them onto his nightstand. “You know, I can move your soul to much, MUCH worse places than my butt, if you don’t behave,” he growled. “Or I could just keep you in there forever.” And risk being “roasted”? You reminded him, tauntingly. Azul let out a harumph. “I can see you’re going to be difficult,” he muttered, then smirked as he placed his hand to his hip. “Maybe next time I’ll find a way to show you more respect when you’re inside my body…” So saying, Azul moved his hand along his sides to the front of his belly. A sound not unlike a cat’s purr left him as he circled the tips of three fingers around his now once-more-bare midsection, your soul encircling his belly button. “...But for now, I think we BOTH need a rest in a warm, soft place. Besides, you only have a couple hours left till you reform, per our agreement.” The comforting, familiar sensations of being belly fat returned. Your soul gave an involunatary shudder, your lifeforce squirming beneath Azul Ashengrotto’s skin. The mafia-styled mage, moaned, his blue eyes fluttering as those warm, pleasant sensations flowed into his arteries before cycling back into his veins once more. “I think we can both agree on one thing,” he chuckled breathlessly, and you could feel the way his belly shifted with his mirth. “My rear end may be your favorite part of me in some respects…but clearly, my belly isn’t too bad, is it?” I’m not complaining, was the only answer you could give. “Neither am I,” Azul said, and there was a warmth to his voice. “I…I haven’t properly said it yet, for all this, but…thank you, Prefect. This was one of the strangest but…honestly, one of the most REWARDING sort of gifts I ever could have received for my birthday.” He paused, chewing on his lip…then sat down upon his bed, rubbing his hand up and down along the curve of his gut. “Angelfish?” Yes, Azul? “If I…if I DID decide to keep you there…would you hate me for it?” he asked, quietly. Your soul stilled. You could hear a sense of conflict in his voice. Suddenly, you realized…the weight wasn’t the only thing he was considering holding onto. “You’d be safe with me,” he said, in a soft, soothing, seductive way, which matched the hands you could feel roaming across his belly, kneading at the folds and rolls that had developed there, tracing into and out of and around his navel. “I would never truly harm you, angelfish. Never. And…and you like being part of me, don’t you? Warm and soft…comfy and cozy…I think I make a very nice home for you.” His words were light and gentle; lightly teasing, but not insincere. He was not pleading, nor taunting you…indeed, you felt perhaps he wasn’t really talking to the sentient chub you had become, to begin with. “It would lead to repercussions, certainly…but how could two people possibly be closer?” You make a good point, you admitted, without hesitation - a quickness of response that you could sense surprised Azul. But it wouldn’t be the same, would it? Azul hesitated before quietly whispering just two words: “That’s true.” Your soul smiled. You wished you still had hands; you weren’t sure if you could keep any thoughts to yourself, but if Azul read your thoughts about giving him belly rubs once you got your body back, he stayed silent about them. Maybe someday, you can take me. Permanently, you said, and the words were alarming in how honest they were. But…I think I’d rather just be me. Me and you. For a while. Azul smiled and nodded. He patted his belly. It jiggled. “Very well,” he said, then a greedy glint came to his ocean-colored eyes. “But I don’t know how long ‘a while’ might be, angelfish. I’m a notorious miser, even by my own admission.” Well, you’re also supposed to be a benevolent spirit. It wouldn’t be “benevolent” to take me away from everyone else I care about and keep me all to yourself, would it? “No, but Chernabog knows I still would love to.” For some reason, you giggled. If you’d had eyes, you would have rolled them. At least you’re honest. “Always, my angelfish,” purred Azul, poking his belly with one finger. “Always.” He yawned then, and lay back upon his bed. His pose was not unlike the one he’d had when he had woken up to the grumbling of his own guts the night before; one arm draped across his stomach, the other limply resting upon the bed. “In all fairness,” he murmured, tiredly, “I think I’d rather keep you around a while longer anyway. After all…if I made you into permanent, sentient fat upon my body, who else would feed me those lovely cakes, hmmm?” Ohhhh, so you’re giving up the advantage of keeping me as fat, for the advantage of being fed. I see how it is. I’m only useful as a cook. Got it. Azul chortled. His gut bounced and bobbled around you. “You know you mean more to me than that, Prefect,” he promised…then he frowned. “Having said that, PLEASE don’t overfeed me like yesterday again. As enjoyable as this amount of weight is…I’d rather not gain TOO much more.” The almost maniacal cackle that echoed in Azul’s mind showed your thoughts there. Wasn’t part of the contract. No promises! your sentience sang. Azul sighed and closed his eyes…but he couldn’t help the amused and loving smile on his chiseled face. “No wonder you were brought here to Night Raven, my pet,” he said softly, and drew a heart shape around his navel with one finger in a drowsy, dreamy, lax way. “You’re as incorrigibly greedy as I am.” Guilty as the day is long, your soul agreed. Azul hummed softly in a crooning sort of way, cupping his hand protectively over the area of his belly you now occupied. Soon, you felt the belly you were part of beginning to rise and fall as his breath evened out, and Ashengrotto drifted off into a dreamless, satiated sleep. You could do nothing now but wait…wait until the spell wore off, and your body reformed, right there next to him on the bed. You didn’t mind the wait. Your soul slept alongside his own, basking in the warm, blanketing softness of your boyfriend’s new belly. Azul Ashengrotto had once been a chubby little octopus. With your help, he’d find out that really wasn’t such a bad thing to be…and if that meant you ended up getting a front row seat to it all like this? Well. You simply called that incentive.

The End

#kink fic #fanfic #disney #twisted wonderland #post-vore #digestion #fatal vore #implied reformation #implied stuffing #implied macro/micro #belching #burping #sentient fat #belly #butt #octo-butt #ha ha #weight gain #azul #azul ashengrotto

[verefex]

yoinked

Scene from my story, in which Sky nearly has a whole car full of snacks. Thank goodness for that perfectly-placed flashlight beam.

#macro micro #implied vore #sky #sona #mawshot #forgot that I made the jeep facing the other way in the story #so technically in the story the headlights are facing him #but I definitely was not looking for a jeep rubicon pic from the back

[wholegrainvore]

a giant gathering up a generous helping of humans and bringing them to his home, relaxing leisurely in an arm chair in front of the fire as he gulps them down one by one. eventually he’s finished them off and his belly ever so slightly presses out against his shirt. he looks down at himself and chuckles, gently stroking his gut and cooing to himself about how good they all tasted

#male pred #v0re blog #size difference #soft vore #g/t #tw vore #macro/micro vore #g/t vore #open ended vore #but more implied fatal considering my blog lol

[please-dontperceiveme]

What's your opinion in the scenario that someone has been shrunk and they happen to have a friend who is a bit chubby. The tiny friend asks if it's okay to climb onto their friend, and they gladly accept. They happen to climb on their friend's enormous tummy and notices that it's bouncy as they lose their balance. They experiment a little and bounce, not too hard, but a enough where it tickles. The tiny friend notices their giggles, which causes them to bounce more, and they proceed to tickle them until they are exhausted. Later on, a loud grumble is heard, practically an earthquake to the tiny friend. Let's just hope their big friend isn't hungry for them.

My OPINION is that you are knocking my SOCKS off oh my GOD. HI. HELLO. I AM LOOKING DIRECTLY AT IT

Min0rs/pr0ship/"SFW only" DNI! 18+ only! AGELESS BLOGS LIKING/REBLOGGING WILL BE BLOCKED!

#anonymous #perceive.txt #belly kink #tummy kink #macro/micro #microphilia #implied vore #soft vore #safe vore #vore kink #hunger kink #hmmm i know there's tags for like. a tickling kink. let me look around #knismo #knismolagnia #knismophilia #tickling #tickle kink

[demonicfreakish]

Seems like my boy has found you~ Oh well- I'm sure you'll taste great~ Hehehehehe Patron-funded OC content~ This time it's my boy Clyide for the -late- Halloween Sketch Tone special~ ;A;

#sizetumblr #sizetwitter #macro/micro #giant/tiny #sfwgt #malegiant #sfw gt #sfw g/t #size difference #g/t #g/t community #g/t art #size shifter #implied vore #implied digestion #giant oc #vore pred #vore oc

[thecetaacean]

#giant/tiny #macro/micro #micro/macro #original character #implied vore #mawshot #g/t #tw suggestive

[flintox]

"How can I help you today, sir?"

He stood there frozen, staring down at the clerk. The kangaroos knees were shaking, as if spotting a tornado I'm the distance rapidly approach. His entire being felt like it had entered fight or flight mode at the sight of the clerk at the fast food place counter.

To an outside observer, the nearly 7ft tall kangaroo being afraid of the clerk would be ridiculous. He stood head, shoulders and pecs above the slim, black furred housecat, and beyond that he was what was commonly referred to as 'jacked', likely able to carry the petite cat like a handbag in a single arm.

And yet, there was that desire to flee, screaming bloody murder.

About a month ago, there had been a macro attack on the city centre. The kangaroo had been there when it happened, and he could remember every little detail. How the ground shook every time the giant stomped down, ending several lives with each step. How the giant's laughter could be heard over the sounds of destruction, shaking him to the bones. How the light vanished as the street spanning paws sailed overhead, only to crash down and erase anything underneath.

Somehow, this short, lanky fast food server was the spitting image of that rampaging giant.

"Sir?" The cat cocked his head. "Is everything alright?"

He jumped. "I-uh-"

"If you're not decided yet, do you mind letting other customers go first?" The cat clerk asked. "We're kind of busy right now."

"Sor-sorry." The kangaroo stammered. He took a deep breath to calm his nerves. It was probably just the trauma from the attack getting on his nerves. If that cat was secretly a macro, he certainly wouldn't be working at some fast food joint. "Large burger meal, hold the tomatoes."

"You got it!" The feline said chipperly.

He watched as the cat worked, typing in his order and pouring the drink. As he did, the fear from earlier seemed all the more ridiculous. The kangaroo breathed a relieved sigh, trying his best to bury the memories of the event deep in his mind again.

"Here you go! Your meal will be ready shortly!" The clerk said with a smile, handing him a receipt.

He took the receipt. "T-thanks."

The roo nodded and walked away to find a seat in the restaurant. As he checked the receipt to see what number he was, he spotted something extra at the bottom.

Written with a pen was a series of numbers and text reading. "Call me!' Followed by a crudely drawn cat face smiling.

He stared at the receipt, and his knees started shaking once more...

#sizetumblr #macrophilia #size kink #giant/tiny #macro/micro #story #furry anthro #macrofurry #macro #furry #cat #kangaroo #implied rampaging #implied stomping

[raveninpink]

Well it's 4/13 and for those on the vore day server my discord may or may not be a certain teal trolls Trollian handle so I can't not do anything. Was gonna do something with actual vore but I am exhausted and may take a nap lol.

#implied vore #g/t #g/t vore #macro micro #mouthplay #fandom vore #we will see how phone formatting works lol #hopefully nothing bad happens i will doe otherwise #will i post traditional art again? who knows i make these stupidly small and therefore they are hard to photograph

[raquao]

What's this... thing on my belly?

#fatfur #furry #implied macro #implied micro #it's like a dial thing #raquaoart

[twistedtummies2]

A Day Beneath the King (Kink Fic; LeonaXReader)

WARNING: IF YOU ARE NOT 18+, TURN BACK IMMEDIATELY. THIS IS NOT A STORY FOR YOU, SO DO NOT READ IT, PLEASE. EVERYBODY GOT THAT? GOOD.

Yesterday was International Underwear Day. Yes, really. That’s a thing. I was too late to make anything for that on time, BUT I did decide to finish this complete madhouse of kinky weirdness featuring Leona Kingscholar from “Twisted Wonderland.” For a long time, I’ve toyed around with the idea of ass entrapment; a tiny partner/preything being trapped in/with the rump of their giant-sized beau/predator for a while. I decided, as an experiment (and since I’ve had booties on the brain lately) to write up a trial of a story focused entirely on that kink. And who better to help with this experiment than my God and Master of Fiction, Leona?  This story contains rump smushing/smothering, butt crushing, ass entrapment, implied vore, various macro/micro elements, and general insanity. If none of that sounds like something you want to read, you have one last chance to turn back. If you’re still here...enjoy the ride. I know I did. >///>

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“Hmph. You know, Herbivore…I always thought you were cute, but at this size? Heh…I think even a mouse would say you’re adorable.”

A fittingly mouse-like squeak was the only audible response you had to offer, as you gazed up at your titan-sized boyfriend. When Leona Kingscholar had invited you to his dorm room, with the promise of a special “anniversary surprise,” you hadn’t expected it to be a faceful of Sam’s patented, long-lasting shrinking powder. Now, you were smaller than a rodent, while Leona’s handsome form loomed over you. A smug look of amusement was upon his scarred yet supremely beautiful face, while his green eyes glowed with a keen, almost ravenous sort of gleam…which, to be fair, seemed to be their usual setting. Your heart was hammering hard in your chest, for many reasons. Not the least of them was the fact that Leona was almost naked: it was still morning, and the lazy lion hadn’t yet gotten dressed for the day’s activity. His tanned, toned form leered down at you in all its glory; his well-shaped six pack abs pulsed with his breath, his large, heavy feet planted down on either side of your. His dark mane cast shadows across his face, giving an almost evil yet deeply entrancing veneer to his supercilious expression. “What’s the matter?” he purred. “Cat got your tongue?” He grinned, showing off his fangs as you were helpless to do anything but sputter mindlessly. Your faculties for speech and proper thought were all but kaput…seeing all that warm, inviting, smooth skin…seeing that gorgeous body…seeing those sharp teeth and that hungry look in his eyes… You weren’t sure exactly how small you were - less than three inches, to be certain - but you somehow felt totally microscopic now. As if you were in the presence of a God. You didn’t dare tell Leona that, though: the big jerk had an ego the size of a hot air balloon already, after all. With a rumble that seemed to make the floor beneath your feet quake, one of Leona’s strong, long-fingered hands reached out and scooped you up, carefully lifting you into the air as he rose from his squatting position. He stood at his full height, his free hand resting upon his plush, curved hip, which he cocked slightly as he inspected you within his grasp. His grip was firm yet tender; not painful, but certainly not easy to break. You wiggled instinctively, and watched him grin once more. “Don’t struggle, worm,” he teased, playfully, swishing his rope-like tail. “Now that’s just an uncalled for name,” you muttered, trying not to show how much the demeaning taunt made you blush. You were pretty sure you failed. “Well, I guess you’re right,” shrugged Leona. “If you were a worm, I’d just squish you.” A slightly sadistic shimmer came to his fanged smile as he gave you a squeeze…then chuckled as you squeaked once more. “Such a pathetic little thing,” he cooed, then raised an eyebrow. “How are you enjoying my anniversary surprise so far, hmmm?” “W-Well, I’m…mostly wondering WHY you’ve shrunk me?” you decided to ask, rather shyly. It was clear Leona was in a mean mood, and you really didn’t want to upset him when he was in that state. He could be scary even when he WASN’T in such a mood…but to be fair, giving in to his dominating presence had never exactly been something you tried hard to deny. You loved being his, and he loved knowing that. “I decided to give you a gift,” said Leona. “You’re going to take a backseat position for the rest of the day. Call it a favor: today, you don’t need to do any schoolwork. You don’t have to walk to class, run on the PE field, deal with those smelly chemicals in the lab…” “I’m guessing, at this point, there’s a catch involved,” you drawled. After all, he hadn’t just shrunk you to give you a break. You knew him too well to expect or believe that. “Depends on what you mean by catch,” answered Leona, slyly. 

He then leaned close, and you squirmed as his sharp nose nuzzled against you. You could feel his nostrils flare as he not-so-subtly sniffed, taking in your scent. The intimacy was only enhanced by the vast size difference; you felt as if his nose, itself, was larger than you were. “Mmmm…I’m gonna keep you with me the whole day,” Leona growled, in a possessive sort of way. “No one else gets to see you. No one else gets to FEEL you. For our anniversary, I’m making sure that You’re. All. Mine. So, now that you’re so tiny…” He lapped his tongue over you, making you squeal as saliva was slapped across your side. “Mmmmaaaaah…I’m going to put you away somewhere,” Leona breathed, the warm, humid, meat-scented air wafting over you when he spoke. “Somewhere close…somewhere warm…somewhere dark…heh, probably doesn’t smell too good, probably very tight…but you’ll be safe. For a while, anyway.” You gulped as you saw him lick his perfect lips. “I…I’m g-guessing that ‘somewhere’ is…uh…right down there?” you eeked out, pointing down towards his bare belly. Leona laughed, his free hand rubbing up and down over his washboard abs. “As tempting as that is, not this time,” he answered. “I’ve got somewhere else in mind to hold onto you for the day.” You must have looked quite confused, for Leona’s sneaky smile widened. “I told you before,” he said, his voice dropping an octave in a husky, dusky way. “You’re taking a BACKSEAT position today.” The hand that caressed his belly moved down and around. The fingertips brushed over his pelvis, slid serenely across his hip and his thigh…and you felt something inside you flip-flop as you saw that hand rub up and down over the curve of one of his soft, round, well-padded rump cheeks. “Wait…w-wait, you…what…you…?” “Tch. You really need to stop stuttering, Herbivore,” scoffed Leona. “How can I enjoy you whimpering out my name if you can’t even talk straight?’ “Ass,” was all you could say. Leona grinned wider than ever. “Heh. You got it right,” he chuckled, and then lowered you carefully. “Now, take a deep breath, Herbivore. It’s probably the last bit of fresh air you’re gonna taste for a while.” You felt your eyes widen as you soon found yourself hovering, in an easy grasp, over the small of Leona’s backside. You could see the y-shaped space beneath his supple tail, which acted as the entrance to cleft between his cushioned glutes. Those same glutes were soon plainly visible, as his other hand stretched the back of the elastic band of his underpants, revealing a warm, musky-smelly cave, lined in fabric and flesh. “Wait…w-wait, Leona, LEONA, HOLD ON…!” Leona wasn’t holding on, in any way. You scrabbled against his fingers, but - with a simple tip of the wrist - you tumbled from his hand and plunged straight down into the dark well in the back of his black-and-gold boxers. THWAPP! “Ahhhh…mmmmmm,” moaned Leona, eyes fluttering closed as he trapped you in the back of his underwear. He bit his lip and rumbled, a look of pure, possessive pleasure in his jade-colored eyes as one of his hands lightly caressed the cloth-covered softness of his ass, roaming his palm around the half-spherical curve of one of his plump, plush, well-stacked cheeks. “Welcome to the king’s ‘throne room,’ Herbivore,” he teased. “Hope you enjoy the view, because you won’t be seeing anything else unless I allow it.” Leona gave his butt a firm spank. His cheeks wobbled and bounced against each other from the impact…and against you. You tried to speak, but all you could really manage - at least at first - were muffled, wordless noises. The fat fanny mounds were smushing against either side of your face, your head pressing into the outermost layer of his booty canyon. Your arms were outstretched, firmly pinned between the fatty swells of his blubbery buttocks, and the tight-fitting fabric prison created by his boxers. You tried to move your legs, but they had slid into the crack itself; you could feel the silky, soft skin that lined the crevice swallowing up your feet. All around you was the oppressive warmth of the lion-man’s fat ass, his stacked cake baking your own skin with its heat. You tried to squirm, but Leona growled at your efforts. Muffled squeaking sounds left you, as he flexed his ass HARD around you, the cushioned, pudgy rump orbs cramming down on either side of you, like a vise formed from mattress cushions. “Hmph…MPH! PLMPH STRMPH! LNRMPH!” Your words were an unintelligible garble of noises, mixing panic and flustered frustration together. Your face felt very hot, and not just because of the dark heat of the ass-jail you were now spending time in. Leona grinned naughtily over his shoulder, rocking his hips from side to side, swaying his butt as he looked in the mirror. He could see the outline your body made as it pushed against his underwear…he teasingly ran one finger around the edges, crooning when he felt you squirm so deliciously against his power. It was so easy to own you this way…so easy to KEEP you… “Hope you’re enjoying yourself in there, my little pet,” purred the prince as he patted his posterior. “Because you’re going to spend the entire day in there. From now till I return to my room, you won’t be leaving the depths of my shorts. So I’d get comfortable with ass, if I were you; the two of you are gonna be VERY well acquainted when this is over, heh heh…” Licking his teeth lustily, Leona strode across his room. You squirmed anew as you could feel his butt cheeks bounce and shift with every step…then your eyes widened as, suddenly, your face was forced deeper into his musky cleft. A new tightness seemed to overtake you, and you could hear Leona grunting slightly as he strained with something. The movements and sounds you sensed soon informed you of what was going on: Leona had just put on his typical tight-fitting pants. While you blushed at your situation, Leona fastened his trousers, and once again looked in the reflection. An evil smile crossed his scarred face: the pants completely hid you from sight. Not even he could detect much sign of anything amiss…let alone something as wild as a shrunken human, crammed into the back of his underwear. Chuckling nastily, he quickly clothed himself in the rest of his school uniform. Then, he gathered his items for classes, and began to stride through the halls of Savanaclaw, and the rest of Night Raven beyond. Leona’s walk was a thing of grace and beauty, which you had all but committed to memory; the swaggering strut of an apex predator, which left his hips in constant motion, his thighs pumping as they carried his tall, powerful form all the way to wherever he willed them to bring him. Now, wedged into the opening of his rump canyon, you were experiencing that walk in a whole new way. Grunts and wheezes left you as you felt the butt cheeks grind against each side of your body, pumping like pistons and pounding away at you with their smothering, suffocating heft. The chubby cheeks jiggled from the impact of each step, and each jiggle just seemed to work you deeper into the fat bottom’s inescapable embrace. You shook your head and tried to push away…but it was a fruitless endeavor. The ass cheeks smashed into you repeatedly, with hammering intensity; as long as Leona was moving, escape was totally inconceivable. The thought made you quiver for more than one reason. “L-Leona!” you gasped out, finally getting enough of your face free to speak. “Leona, I’m not sure-MPH!” Your protests were silenced when a flex of the ass forced your head into the crack again. “Shut up,” you heard Leona grumble. “I’m trying to get to class. You stay right there, Herbivore. Trust me…you won’t be going anywhere…” The devilish laugh the lion let out made you want to hate him…mostly because it made you lust for him all the more.

How dare this bullying jerk be so drop-dead gorgeous? Life was truly unfair. Finally, you stopped squirming, closing your eyes and simply letting yourself be squished and smushed by the repeated pressing and pushing of the gluteus maximus’ twin moons. Maybe you’d try escaping again later, but for now…there was nothing to but wait. As Leona strutted about, butt rocking and rolling from side to side, his ass cheeks crashing into you like a couple of tidal waves…you soon began to worry about a simple and obvious issue. Leona wouldn’t be standing, nor even walking, forever. Sooner or later, he would have to sit. You blushed bright red, unsure if you should dread that moment or call it a blessing…

—-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

…Experience would not provide you with any clear answers, as your hormones fought a battle with your survival instincts and physicality. It was hard to tell which side was winning. Leona sat boredly in one of Trein’s classes. His position was its usual one for such scenarios: his eyes half-lidded and sleepy-looking, his head leaning in one gloved hand, the other tapping his magical pen slowly against the pages of the book open in front of him…a book he pointedly was not looking in, instead half-listening to the elderly professor’s droning, dry lecture. The handsome half-lion yawned without shame, ignoring the looks some of the other students gave him. For him, it was another bland, monotonous lesson session of information he already knew. No different from any other class with Professor Trein… …Well, he smirked. He supposed it WAS different, but only in a small way. Chuffing through his nose and rolling his eyes at his own mental wordplay, the lion subtly shifted his position in his seat. His right rump cheek stretched and lifted slightly, before settling and splaying out again. His left cheek then did the same. He rumbled as he got comfortable, little flickers of pleasure sparking in his bloodstream as he could feel the warm, soft, pleasant sensation of the puny form pinned beneath his heavy bottom. “Hope you’re having fun down there,” he mumbled under his breath, not sure if you could hear him or not…and honestly not really caring. “Fun,” you guessed, was in the eye of the beholder. Any wiggling you had been able to do when Leona was standing and walking had been stopped completely. The hard wood of the seat pressed through the back of his pants and into your spine, while the much softer, juicier, meatier surface of his giant butt fell over your whole body’s front. It was like being buried under hundreds of pounds of cake dough, the weight bearing down on you with such immense pressure, you were legitimately surprised you didn’t pop like a grape under the strain. You couldn’t see anything, lodged in a place where the Sun never shone. You tried to push up against the fat mass, but the pudge just came drooping down again, pooling over your shrunken form, as if intent on swallowing you whole into its plump padding. Leona did not move much while he sat…but every time he did, you felt it. Every grind of his gigantic butt as he shifted his posterior in his seat made your bones whine. Your lungs wheezed as you gulped in raspy breaths every time you pushed some of the fat away from your face…only for that same pudge to drop down again. The softness of his skin only made you moan and groan; it was like being caressed by a lover…before having your face suffocated beneath a large pillow. Every breath you took was tainted with the heady odor of Leona’s natural, masculine musk. That scent only grew stronger the longer you were crammed under his fat ass; it was summertime, after all, and sitting for long hours could build up some sweat in certain places, even with the rooms well-conditioned. Your own sweat, courtesy of the furnace-like warmth that radiated from the glutes of the prince, speckled your brow, only making things feel slicker. You keened as you could feel a single bead of the stuff slide across the curve of his butt crack and drop onto your head. Your heart was pounding. A mixture of various emotions - fear and ever-growing arousal predominant among them - mingled in your body. This was so humiliating, so demeaning, so generally unpleasant…yet you found you almost didn’t want it to stop. It didn’t keep you from wiggling. Thinking the lion was distracted, you tried a couple of times to squirm…but even if all the weight and pressure had allowed it, Leona wouldn’t. You could alway sense his displeasure, as a low rumble - not quite a growl, but close - would thrum through the body over you…then, he’d flex his cheeks, till your head nearly felt like it might burst. You soon got the message and quit trying to break free; each time he flexed, you could feel yourself sinking into the cleft like it was quicksand. You groaned as Leona shifted his rump more insistently; now he was clearly doing it to directly torment you, smushing his cheeks over you and shifting the rolls of fat over you in waves. “Mmmmmm…” The pleasured moan around you made you blush more. You felt him lift his rump slightly, and felt the tightness around you slacken eeeever so slightly…before he sat fully once more, and you grimaced as you were forced deeper into the crack. Suddenly, you realized…that was the point. Every shift, every flex, every motion…was pushing you further and further into the crevice between the rump cheeks. You tried to squirm, letting out muffled calls for Leona to stop…but even if he heard you, he clearly wasn’t caring, as he just flexed hard. Suction dragged you deeper into the velvety canyon of sweaty, musky rump meat. You clawed at the cheeks, but your fingers just sank uselessly into the chub, and skidded across it without getting any real purchase. “Deeper,” Leona’s voice came drifting down to you, as he had clearly decided to ignore class in favor of dragging your body into his crack by force. “Get…all the way…in there…” Each phrase was accompanied by a flex from his butt. You could feel the muscles bundled together beneath the cushioning pudge, as they worked like a set of toothless jaws to nibble you into the blackness of the booty cleft. “H-Help…help! L-Leona…stop…!” Your words were panting, gasping…totally useless. Leona chuckled, amused at your feeble voice, buried beneath his bulk. “Sink,” he hissed. “You know where you belong.” “Kingscholar!” snapped Trein’s voice, crossly. “What are you muttering about? Are you paying attention at all?” “Yeah, yeah, I’m listening,” grunted Leona. You tried to call out to the professor, but blushed when you found you couldn’t. Too much weight, softness, and plumpness was pushing on your face and your chest. You were sinking into the canyon, your feet wiggling against the silky, sensitive skin that lined the inner layer of the rump region. Your head and one arm were all that remained outside of the crack. You puffed through your nostrils as your crimson face was squished more than ever, your fingers clinging to the fatness as best you could…

Leona - without watching his movements, his eyes on Trein’s blackboard - reached back with one hand while no one was looking. He gripped one of his butt cheeks, and gave it a slight jiggle. He smirked as he heard the faint, barely audible “swulp” sound as your entire body was now completely stuffed into the partition of his posterior. Leona flexed his cheeks once more, just to make sure you were firmly lodged in the crack, then scratched his butt carelessly before returning his attention as fully as he could (which wasn’t that fully) to Trein’s lesson. Your whole body was now totally immersed in assflesh. The musky smell and sweaty sensations were stronger than ever. You squirmed, but all you could feel was the soft, thick, weighty rump chub that surrounded you. You couldn’t tell which way to move to try and find fresh air…and you knew it was hopeless, anyway, since you were still trapped by Leona’s undergarments and the trousers beyond. A moan left you as you could hear the intestines of the lion bubbling somewhere nearby, and you could feel his butt clamp each time you pawed at the bum walls, which came around you like a trash compactor… “It’s useless trying to get away,” Leona’s voice came down again. “I could keep you there forever, if I wanted, y’know. Heh…just think of that…never knowing anything but that. Left to live inside my crack…lost there for the rest of your short, tortured life…not even worth a snack, just a plaything for me to break. Tch. Sounds like it would suck, but I bet it’s making you blush like a rose, right?” “Kingscholar!” “I’m listenin’, alright?!” While the professor and the prince began to bicker, you could only curl up slightly in the canyon. You really hated it when he was right, the rude bully…

—---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Leona panted slightly as he jogged across a stretch of flat, grassy field. His hair was tied back in a loose ponytail, and he was dressed in his usual PE uniform. The one exception was the usual black sports jacket he had tied about his waist. He had left that in the lockers. The lion paused beside a tree and sighed, wiping an arm across his sweaty brow as he eased himself into the shade. He was carrying a large bottle of water in his other hand. Smacking his parched lips, he opened it up and slugged down a few refreshing swallows of the cool, clear liquid. “Ahhhh,” sighed Leona, as he leaned back against the trunk and closed the bottle up. The tip of his tongue went past his teeth and lapped at his lips. “Damn…it’s scorching today. I’m used to hot weather, but it’s still pretty warm…warmer than usual, I think.” A devious smirk crossed the lion’s face, and his scarred eye glistened with superior, sinister pleasure as he glanced back over his shoulder. His tail lifted and curled itself around one of his butt cheeks, cupping under its weight and lifting it slightly. “Must be absolutely broiling in there, for you,” he remarked. “Heh…try not to drown in all that sweat, if you can. Must be real-huh?” Leona’s eyes widened and his smirk faded as something shifted under his pants. He suddenly felt a shiver race up and down his spine and let out a shaky breath…as his rump visible jiggled and wobbled, as if it had a mind of its own. Finally, the lion’s fluttering eyes opened fully, and he chuckled as the motions stopped. “Well, whaddya know…you actually managed to wiggle free. Gotta admit, I’m almost impressed. Almost.” You couldn’t answer at first. You gasped and choked, desperately drinking in air that wasn’t reeking of lion sweat and musk. Your entire shrunken form was soaked in the same, your hair stuck to your brow, as your upper half dangled over the waistband of Leona’s athletic pants. It had been a lucky break: you had realized, while he had been exercising, that the looser fit gave you a chance to try and break free. The problem was…you hadn’t been given a proper chance. When the lion wasn’t sitting on a broomstick or an exercise bench, he was running or leaping. For all his talk of using mind over muscle, the athletic prince kept a good workout regiment. You felt delirious, loopy after huffing up the fumes of sweat and rump musk that built up over the day, and exponentially increased with the workout. Wiggling free from the lion’s rump and crawling your way upwards left you totally out of breath; it felt as if you’d been swimming against the flabby mounds. You looked up at Leona. You tried to look angry, but you had a feeling you weren’t succeeding; your face was still very red, both from your flustered status and how tired and hot you were. Combined with your sweaty disposition, and the way you so pathetically rested, unable to pull yourself free any further, not to mention how you winced as blessed daylight hit your eyes…you could understand the superior, self-confident smirk Leona was giving your rather pitiful form. “Enjoying our anniversary yet?” “You…are so…awful…” Leona just rolled his eyes. “Say that when you don’t look like a bruised tomato,” he snorted, and took another drink of water, closing his eyes as he relished the feeling of the cold drink descending his esophagus. He opened one eye when he heard a puppyish sound leave you, and smirked around the bottle top as he saw the longing look you gave to the bottle. He pulled it free from his lips and licked them, shaking it teasingly. “What’s the matter?” he mocked. “Thirsty? I’d think you’d be getting plenty to satisfy your thirst back there.” “Are you referring to your sweat, or just to a different kind of thirst?” “Yes,” Leona said, showing off his fangs. You just groaned. “When I get back to normal,” you threatened, “I’m going to spend a whole week waking you up early, whether you need it or not.” “I’m shaking in my sandals,” drawled Leona, then narrowed his glowing green eyes. “Besides, you seem to be under the impression I’ll LET you get back to normal.” You froze up and blinked up at the lion man. “Wh-what’s that supposed to mean?” you squeaked, nervously. “Well, I COULD just crush you between my butt cheeks or let my ass smother you to death,” said Leona, shrugging carelessly and crossing his arms over his chest. His tail lifted up, the end of it twitching back and forth, like the pendulum of a clock. “No one would ever know what happened to you…no one but me. Then I could just gobble up your puny body, and digest the evidence. Heh…bet you’d end becoming part of my ass, too. So I guess, in a way…you’d never escape it. I think that sounds like a great way to finish our anniversary, don’t you?” You knew he was just teasing. At least…you certainly HOPED he was just teasing. With Leona Kingscholar, it was hard to tell. Regardless, you couldn’t help but whimper and cringe. Leona snickered, the sun glinting off his pearly fangs. “You’re way too easy,” he said. “And you’re a fatass and a meanie.” Leona looked bored. “Meanie? Seriously?” he droned. “What are you, five? Not even my nephew uses words like that…often…” “Meanie!” you snapped back, deliberately. You even stuck your tongue out, trying to annoy him with a bit of childishness. You had to get SOME small revenge after all this, after all. The attempt backfired, however, as Leona scoffed and rolled his eyes. “Okay, you wanna be a brat?” he snorted. “Fine: just for that, you’ve lost your rights to air and sunlight…not that you ever had them in the first place. Get back in my ass!” Suddenly, the lion’s tail whipped down, and you yelped as the rope-like appendage worked to push you back into the prince’s pants. Your arms flailed and you let out a series of sputtering sounds as you fought to shove it away, but you failed. The tail twisted and turned, working like a snake to shove you into place. Once more, you found yourself sinking into the sweaty, musky, warm, cushioned folds of the fat ass crack. A final gasp was cut short as you were squelched back into place, the plump butt cheeks jiggling as the tail pulled free and lashed itself back to its proper state. Leona nodded to himself, firmly, finished his water, then tossed the bottle into a nearby trash bin before continuing his jog, leaving you helpless as you felt his rump bounce and grind around you with every movement of his powerful legs.

—------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Afternoon was changing into evening when Leona finally arrived back at Savanaclaw. He yawned as he strolled through the halls of the oasis-like dorm, a cool breeze whistling through his sweat-stained locks. He walked with his eyes closed, hands behind his head, lazily sauntering along as his mind wandered. The housewarden was looking forward to a cool shower and a much-deserved catnap. His ears pricked up when he heard a pair of voices chattering ahead. “Still no sign of them?” “Not so far. You sure you didn’t see them in Ignihyde?” “Nope. Ortho scanned the whole dorm, said he couldn’t find any sign of them there.” “Well, why didn’t you ask him to scan the whole SCHOOL?” “...Oh, yeah. I guess I didn’t think of that.” “Do you ever think at all?” “HEY!” Kingscholar frowned and opened his unscarred eye. Ahead, he could see two familiar Heartslabyul students nervously bantering with one another, clearly out of place in Savanaclaw. “Alright, let’s be smart about this…after all, they can’t have disappeared into thin air,” sighed Ace Trappola “I dunno…at this point, it’s looking like they might have,” mumbled Deuce Spade, scratching the back of his head as he glanced about…then he noticed Leona. His eyes lit up and he waved the lion over. “Oi! Leona! Can we ask you a question?” “I think that counts,” Leona dryly replied, and tried to walk past the pair. “Hey! Don’t just ignore us!” yelled Ace. Leona stopped and glared back at them. He was quite annoyed. “Do you REALLY wanna get my attention that way, Trappola?” he growled warningly, baring his teeth and twitching his tail in irritation. “Sorry,” Ace apologized. “It’s just that we’re looking for the Prefect.” Leona’s tail twitch changed from one of irritation to one of self-gratified amusement. “Really?” he purred. “They were supposed to come help us with a study session earlier, but we haven’t seen them all day,” Deuce explained. “Since you’re in charge here, and since…well…you know…you ARE kinda their boyfriend? We were wondering if you would know where to look for them,” Ace added. Leona grinned widely. Oh, this was just too priceless. “I saw them briefly at PE,” he replied. “Since when do they take PE class with you?” frowned Ace, crinkling his nose, clearly confused. “I never said they did,” Leona reminded him. “I just said I saw them at that time.” “And you don’t know where they could be now?” Deuce checked again. “Psh. I’m not my Herbivore’s keeper. They’re a grown-ass human being, they can take care of themselves, don’tcha think?” “Sure, WE think that,” said Ace, now narrowing his eyes. “But since when did YOU think that?” Leona just yawned. “Is this interrogation over? I wanna get some sleep,” he growled, grouchily. “If you don’t have anything else to add,” shrugged Deuce, then looked at Ace. “C’mon, let’s see if maybe there’s a clue in Diasomnia. They’re pretty close to Malleus, after all.” “Well, we definitely won’t HEAR anything there…Sebek will yell our ears off, I just know it…” Leona chuckled as he watched the pair leave. “If that overgrown lizard has a hint, tell him thanks for keeping an eye on MY plaything,” he called mockingly. The Heartslabyul duo frowned back over their shoulders; they didn’t always like hearing Leona call you that…but they also weren’t TOO put off, as they simply and calmly left. Once they were gone, Leona smirked wider, eyes glowing with a somewhat evil gleam as he looked back over his shoulder and patted his warm, wide buttocks. They wobbled at his touch. “No one knows where you are, my pet,” he whispered, in a sultry, silky sort of way. “Nobody but me. How has it been, huh? Soaking up all my sweat and musk…feeling all my weight pound and squeeze around you…I bet when I take off these pants, I still won’t be able to even tell you’re in there.” He paused, caressing his rear end almost affectionately, a thoughtful, supreme look on his face. “I’m almost tempted to leave you in there. Forever. If it were physically possible, I absolutely would…let you live up my ass. No more daylight. No more air. Only me…all around you…completely and inescapably. No one would ever see you again; I could keep you to myself. My little plaything. My little rump toy.” He growled and flexed his fat cheeks hard; one could see the muscles tighten and bulge beneath the thickly-padded layers of ass cushioning, and dimly hear the keening, breathless sound as the ass tightened around your whole body, burying your face, your hands, every part of you in musky, grimy booty flab. “My. Little. Pet,” Leona said, his voice as dark as it was dominating. Still keeping his ass tightly clenched, he shifted his hips, the cheeks of his bottom grinding against each other like a pair of boulders. He bit his lip and moaned as he heard a desperate, scared, yet EXCITED noise come from your battered body…a little more pressure, and he could easily BREAK you…smother or smush you flat… …He relaxed with a shuddering sigh, and patted his butt…this time right over the crack, as if the pat was meant for you. Then, sashaying his hips happily, he strutted along again towards his room. By now, you were so dazed, lightheaded, and squashed till you ached that you barely qualified as conscious. You struggled for air in the hot, damp cleft of the lion’s rear end. The bouncing and swinging of his bottom had come to have an almost soporific effect, as you were thoroughly soaked in his odor and his moisture. You were beyond struggling, beyond even wriggling; you were no longer even sure if the voices of your friends had been real or imagined. As humiliating, hot, and horrid as it all was…you were blushing. In fact, you were even smiling. It wasn’t fair…it wasn’t FAIR how stupidly hormonally addled you were, or that he was so perfect he could play to those hormones almost without trying. Part of you hated all this…but more and more, you’d come to enjoy it. In a way, you were experiencing Leona’s day in a more intimate, attached way than most would ever find it possible. You might as well have been part of him…part of every step…part of every motion…honeyed thoughts that made it hard to feel angry, as the strength and pure power he displayed (with such crude methods, in more ways than one) was beginning to get you drunk. Or maybe you’d just been inhaling too much of his musk. Neither would be surprising. You were not freed till, suddenly, Leona removed his pants. You FELT it happen, and HEARD it; you didn’t actually see. You were lodged so deep inside his crack, you could not see even the thinnest line of light from the world beyond. So, when a familiar hand burrowed its way in, and pulled your soggy, limp body out, you were unprepared for the flash of surprisingly sterile light that shocked your eyes. When your vision became blurry, you found yourself staring at Leona’s handsome face. His expression was smug and amused, as usual…but there was a hint of affection there, as if seeing you so helpless and soppy, like a kitten dragged out of a rainstorm, was cute to him. You quickly realized that you were in his bathroom…that he was topless…and he was about to enter the shower. You immediately figured out “topless” was not ALL he was, and decided - against your less savory judgment - against looking down towards…certain areas. Ahem. “Heh. And I thought you were pathetic before,” mocked Leona, but the words carried a loving lilt, rather than a sharp bite. He sniffed the air, then grimaced. “Phew! Damn, you stink!” You tried to snipe back a snarky retort of, “Whose fault is that?!” You were so dizzy and so tired, however, all you could manage was a slurred response that vaguely sounded like, “Foosballs are flat.” The lion just smirked. “Didn’t catch a word of that. Try mumbling louder, and maybe I’ll actually care about what my ass sponge has to say,” he taunted. You could only groan. You weren’t sure you could physically blush any more, but your face found a way. Leona rolled his eyes. “Tch. Figures. Seriously, how kinky can you get?” he half-sneered. “I bet you’d like it if I actually did that, huh? Tied you to a scrub brush or something, used you to help clean up while I bathe? Ha! Don’t think I didn’t hear that squeak! You have some serious issues, you know that?” All you could respond with was a sort of weighty nod; you felt like there was a lead weight somewhere in your face, making it hard to raise your head, even as the sleepy dizziness continued to surround you. Leona shook his head with a snort, then a tenderness came to his scarred green eye as he held you in his palms and stepped into the shower, shutting the curtain. “Well, maybe we’ll save that for another time. For now, let’s get you cleaned up. You look like a sick rat,” he said. You certainly were not going to complain or argue. Leona cleaned you up during his shower, in-between rounds of washing his own luxurious mane, and rinsing the sweat and dust from his own tanned, beautiful body. You said nothing during the whole process, but throughout it, you found it hard not to laugh deliriously: you had never expected your first communal shower with your boyfriend to be like THIS.

“Oi. Cut that out and stop squirming. You’re gonna get soap in your mouth. Tch. I’d call you a pain in my ass, if you hadn’t felt so good back there…”

Even after being thoroughly disinfected - and dressed in a miniature pair of boxers, which…you felt it was best NOT to ask the origins of (you had a feeling they probably belonged to someone who was now PART of the butt you were so well acquainted with) - you still felt rather loopy after your experience. “Woozy?” teased Leona, noticing the way your body rocked and heaved in his palms as he approached the bed, wearing nothing but (a fresh, clean pair of) his own boxers once again. “I dunno if that’s the word,” you admitted honestly. “But I feel…whatever you feel after going on a Tilt-a-Whirl a few times too many. Except most Tilt-a-Whirls don’t smell like a lion’s butt…” “...Most?” “I went through a lot more than you know, back in my world.” Leona just chuffed with amusement. “Whatever. Bet most Tilt-a-Whirls don’t leave you looking like a beet for almost twelve hours straight either, huh?” Somehow, you found the strength to smirk with a hint of mischief all your own. “Most Tilt-a-Whirls aren’t drop-dead handsome princes, either,” you replied. Leona smirked. He was well-aware of his own rugged good looks…but something the way he seemed to purr indicated he was nevertheless always happy to hear somebody else comment on them. Especially you. You giggled softly as Leona lay on his bed and placed you on his bare belly, stretching his arms out behind his head. He raised the brow arched over his good eye expectantly. “Well? Do you want to rub it, or go inside it?” he growled. “Can’t I do both?” you chirruped. “You are literally the size of a rodent. I WILL eat you.” “Don’t threaten me with a good time.” Leona sighed and dropped his head back on the pillow. “I liked it better when you were shoved up my ass,” he grumbled. You blushed, but still sniggered…yet you obligingly gave the overgrown cat-man the belly rub he desired, all the same. Leona’s smile became one of purest peace as he thumped his tail with satisfaction against the mattress, eyes closed as he enjoyed your tiny hands playing across his belly. “Mmmmmm…almost as good as your wriggling,” he mumbled. “Gee, thanks,” you drawled, sarcastically. Leona just purred in response, then opened his left eye. “So…how was it for you?” he asked. The words weren’t teasing or taunting. This time, it sounded like a sincere question. You hesitated, biting your lip…but finally answered slowly: “It was…um…hotter than Hades. In more ways than one.” Leona snorted with laughter and shut his eye. “Yep,” he grunted. “That’s about what I expected.” “There were moments I was almost afraid you might crush me, or that I might suffocate to death,” you admitted, very softly. Leona’s smile slackened. His eyes remained closed. “You really think I’d take it that far?” he asked, in an even sort of voice. “Honestly, some days I really don’t know,” you admitted, then patted his stomach with a smile. “But right now, it’s safe to say I trust you.” Leona purred a little louder at that. “Had to have been pretty nasty, judging by that funky smell when I let you go at last,” he rumbled. “Oh, it was,” you said. “Kinky little weirdo,” he muttered. “Trust me, you have NO idea,” you chuckled. “I think I do,” Leona said, dryly. “You’ve admitted just about every raunchy, random little fantasy pulsing in that head of yours to me by this point…how’d the reality match up to this one?” “If I say, ‘it was better than I expected,’ will you think I’m a freak?” “I ALREADY think you’re a freak,” Leona said, blandly…then added, with rare affection, “You just so happen to be MY freak.” You gave a blushing smile, and replied, “When I decide whether that’s a compliment or an insult, I’ll tell you what I think.” Leona shook his head in a weary sort of way. “I’m surprised you said that. You were trying to escape an awful lot, it seemed to me.” You stopped rubbing at those words. Leona scowled, looking irritated at those heavenly sensations stopping, but he didn’t scold you. Yet. “What’s wrong?” he asked, instead. “Don’t tell me you didn’t actually like it.” “At first…not really,” you confessed. “But as the day wore on, and throughout the whole experience…I couldn’t deny how…how…I don’t even know what the WORD is, but despite how gross it all was…I did like it. Like I said, it was one of the hottest things I’ve ever experienced. Heh…not sure I wanna spend another WHOLE SCHOOL DAY in the back of your shorts, but…” You trailed off, shrugging one shoulder bashfully. Leona had the self-satisfied smile of a cat that had swallowed a canary. “I’ll keep all that in mind,” he said smoothly. “Great,” you mumbled. Leona chuckled, then a wicked grin crossed his face once more. “Before I clock out for a snooze - and I think you oughta do the same - there’s one more ‘special gift’ I have in store for you,” he said, devilishly. You half expected, in that moment, for him to pop you into his mouth and swallow you down. Given the greedy smile on his face, showing how much he enjoyed HAVING you, you would not have been surprised. But instead, after carefully plucking you up…Leona rolled over, laying on his belly, before dropping you on top of his pillowy posterior. He smirked over his shoulder as your hands and knees sank slightly into the fat of his warm, soft butt. “That’s your bed for tonight,” he said, in a rather firm voice. He yawned, then added, “If I feel you try to move off of it, then I will make you part of it. So try not to wriggle in your sleep too much, got it?” “G-Got it!” you squeaked. “Good,” said Leona, and yawned again. His expression softened as he lay his head on his pillow. His tail curled and flopped to one side, leaving his boxer-clad bottom completely exposed beneath you. He closed his eyes, nuzzling into the pillowcase. “Goodnight, Herbivore,” Leona mumbled tiredly. “Happy Anniversary.” Despite yourself, your own voice was light and tender as you replied, “Happy Anniversary, My King.” Leona’s ear twitched, but the only audible reaction he gave was a snore. In typical Kingscholar fashion, he had fallen asleep in scant seconds. Chuckling softly - and swearing your face would be permanently stained crimson, given how much blushing you’d done that day - you lay down and curled up like a kitten atop the right rump cheek of the lion man. By morning, you would awaken, your normal-sized head resting upon his ass cheek like a pillow…but for now, it was a mattress for your whole body. The musk had been replaced with a fresh, clean, almost floral scent, thanks to the recent shower…and the skin beneath his boxers felt smoother and softer, even more supple than before. It wasn’t long till you yawned, and found yourself drifting off to sleep as well. It hadn’t exactly been a conventional anniversary, at least for you… …But as slumber took ahold of your mind, you could already say you were going to dream about how great next year might be. You would say you were looking forward to it…but, under the circumstances, it was better to say you were looking BEHIND. …Oh, come now. How ELSE would you imagine this writer to end such foolery as this? He has to have SOME fun.

The (Rear) End

#kink fic #fanfic #disney #twisted wonderland #leona #leona kingscholar #butt entrapment #rump smothering #butt crushing #macro/micro #implied vore

[wholegrainvore]

silly preview of silly wip

#male pred #soft vore #macro/micro vore #implied fatal #i still dont know how im going to post this because the knight turns out to be da/nse and i dont want my vore fic showing up in the search #JHGKDH

[demonicfreakish]

More Voretober stuff~ Hehehehehhe

#sizetumblr #sizetwitter #macro/micro #sfwgt #giant/tiny #malegiant #sfw gt #sfw g/t #gt fluff #implied vore #giant protecting tiny #g/t #g/t community #g/t art #g/t fluff #size difference #size shifter #feral giant #feralgiant

[thecetaacean]

#giant/tiny #macro/micro #micro/macro #g/t fluff #original character #willing prey #g/t #mawshot #tw vore #implied vore

[flintox]

"To be honest." The lioness sighed. "It was a bit too cheesy for my tastes."

He couldn't hold back his chuckle. "Too cheesy? For you?"

The large cat slowed her pace, slowing his down as well due to their handholding, in order to glare down at the shorter komodo dragon. "And what is that supposed to mean?"

"I'm just saying-" the komodo's tongue slipped past his lips quickly, almost in a teasing manner. "We bought a piece of brie cheese yesterday, and this morning it was gone."

A mix of a growl and laugh rumbled from the lioness. "It was a small piece and it was delicious." She argued. "And I'm just saying that ricotta ravioli with cheddar sauce topped with parmesan is maybe it a bit too much. But you're still wonderful. Thank you for taking me to dinner."

Before he could reply, the taller lioness pulled him towards her, turning their handholding into a sideways embrace. His tail swished at his back happily. "Believe me, the pleasure was all mine."

"Now I'm just wondering what you'll do for a second da-" her thought was cut short when a massive shape slammed down in their path. After a moment of shock and confusion, they could make out what it was.

A shoe. A dress shoe of the cheaper variety. Almost in unison, the two looked up a black pant covered leg to the sight of a macro looming over them. The round ears and buck toothed smile denoted a mouse smirking down at them. They'd been so distracted by each other, they hadn't even noticed the macro standing there, leaning against one of the buildings of the micro district. While not prohibited, macros rarely had benevolent reasons to cross through micro districts.

He was casually dressed, matching that of many that spent their Saturday evening out on the town. Coupled with his shoes and pants was a plain white shirt, with the top three buttons undone to allow a tuft of light brown, bordering on tan, fur to protrude from the chest, proudly displaying a golden chain that adorned his neck. In his hand was a beer bottle as large as a SUV.

"Evening, cutie." The mouse rumbled.

His first instinct was to pull his date closer, or rather it would have been had she not pulled him to her first. While mice were rarely seen as imposing figures, to a micro, even a mouse had the nerves on edge. Before he could try to guide his date and himself past the shoe, the lioness took the initiative once more.

"Buzz off, creep!" The lioness growled. "Go bother someone else."

A look of shock washed over the mouse, only to be replaced by amusement. "Woah, you're lively."

They tried to walk past the shoe, but as soon as they tried the oversized footwear simply.slid forward, blocking their escape. Before they could move further, the giant bent forward. In the blink of an eye, the lioness was grasped between two fingers and hoisted out of the komodo's grip before he could even try to prevent her kidnapping, being knocked onto the ground by a flick of the mouse's finger. He watched as she was raised into the sky, held in front of the mouse's smirking face as she kicked and cussed and clawed at his fingers.

"How about you use that energy and get with a real man?" The mouse said, his voice lowered to a seductive rumble.

She wasn't given a chance to reply before the mouse quickly stuffed her into the breast pocket of his ill-buttoned shirt. Her protests quickly muffled as she vanished inside the silken pocket.

"H-hey!" The komodo stammered, clamoring to his feet. "You let her go right now!"

The mouse casually rose ro his full height, his smirk not faltering in the slightest as he stared down the furious little lizard at his feet. "Step off, bug. I'm gonna show the little kitty how much fun full sized guys can have. I'll try not to break her."

"Let. Her. Go." The komodo hissed. "Or else!"

If the mouse had been amused before, he was downright enthralled now. A shadow was cast over the komodo dragon when the giant leaned forward. "Or what? Are you gonna tickle my toes?" The giant mouse laughed.

Before he could reply, the mouse's foot rose, quickly shifting until it was above him. Reacting quickly, the komodo leapt backwards, narrowly being missed by the large dress shoe as it crashed down inches away from him.

"A bit of advice, runt." The mouse scoffed. "Don't pick fights with someone when you're smaller than their dick."

He glared up at the mouse, feeling like his cold blood was being brought to a boil as his teeth gnashed together furiously. He didn't have much choice. In the same movement, he rose to a single knee and reached for a ring adorning his finger, slipping it off.

In the blink of an eye, the komodo went from a minuscule sub three inches in height back to his full, normal height. The wide micro district street became a narrow and cramped strip of road as the buildings that had once loomed over him, now barely reached his hips.

And the mouse...

The mouse stared up at him, jaw hanging loose with the shock of finding himself now barely chest height to the komodo.

Cloakers were common enough, being accessible to the various micros willing to pay for them. Macros getting them to appear smaller was far rarer, however.

Thinking fast, the komodo used the elemeon of surprise his reveal had granted him and quickly seized the much shorter male by the neck with a single hand, pinning him roughly against a micro apartment block harshly enough to crack the wall. While the mouse tried to claw at his hand in a panic, the komodo deftly plunged his fingers down the rodents breast pocket, quickly plucking out the warm body within and closing his fist around them.

As the mouse got his senses about him and started struggling more coherently, the komodo took a step forward, tightening his grip around his neck and using his weight to keep his opponent trapped against the building, baring his teeth menacingly.

"Get the f*ck out of here before I break out those teeth of yours and force them down your throat." The komodo growled.

What fight remained in the mouse immediately vanished and his struggles became limp, his face contorting into an expression of horror.

With a grunt, the komodo shoved the mouse to the side, sending him scrambling down the micro district street in a chaotic sprint to safety. He didn't take his eyes off the mouse until he was out of sight, maintaining a death stare the whole time despite the fact that his knees were shaking.

As soon as the threat was gone, he quickly moved his hand to his face and opened his palm. Within was the lioness, lying on her side and visibly frazzled but completely unharmed, aside from the tragic ruin of the smoothness of her fur. She glanced around for a moment, clearly confused before locking eyes with the now much larger komodo. Her jaw dropped and her eyes blinked rapidly.

"A-are you okay?" He asked, his adrenaline surge devolving into nervous jitters. "You're not hurt, are you?"

"What the hell?!" The lioness balked. "You're a macro?"

He blinked. "I-i was gonna tell you- I was waiting for the t-topic to come up an-"

"Woah." She laughed. "I'm not complaining. It certainly saved me so yeah- pleasantly surprised."

His nerves calmed slightly. "I-i'll get us somewhere safe before putting my cloaker back on in case that deuce is still around-"

"Oh no." The lioness quickly interjected, excitedly tapping her palm against his fingers. "That thing stays off." She softly slid her hands across the scaled palm. "I usually don't do this on a first date but--how about we head back to your place?"

Though his reptile blood ran cold, his face felt flushed and he could barely stammer his response. "Y-yes!"

#sizetumblr #macrophilia #size kink #giant/tiny #macro/micro #furry anthro #story #macrofurry #furry #macro #komodo dragon #lion #mouse #handheld #implied stomping #short fiction

[eldritch-spouse]

[Part 8 of Gifted. Fem reader.]

Previous poll winner: Give yourself to Krulu (70.1%)

TW: Strong cultish themes; Macro/micro; Mindbreak; Squirting.

⋆✩ You've reached the end of the run ✩⋆

It's not much of a choice, is it?

If you wanted the easy way out, you could have taken it at several instances by now. Picked someone who was likely to bludgeon you, get on everyone's nerves... You're sure you could have gotten killed in many situations. And perhaps even in a less traumatic way- At the hands of a sick monster, rather than the deity dwelling in this rotpit.

But you've lived this far, survived the menaces who got their grimy hands on you. Only to choose death now? No. No, that's hardly admissible.

You're going to buck till your last dying breath here. Or at least try to.

Summoning strength you don't have, unable to meet the god-entity's eyes, it takes far too long before you can croak out a response.

" I... Offer myself to you. "

The finality of your own words hits you like a train. This is definitely not the type of being that'll let you walk back on your decision, so you've laid down the foundations for your brand new future with that statement alone.

Whatever giving yourself to Krulu implies, you have just signed up for it, and now you'll deal with whatever comes forth. It was your choice. It was the fate you wrote, at least some solace will come from that reminder.

The charred giant squints at you, long and hard. You're not sure what he hopes to gleam behind your eyes. They say eyes are the window to the soul, maybe there's some actual merit to that, aside from mere romanticism and poetic frivolity. Does he hope to find a lie? Deceit? You're sure there's nothing to show but fear, resignation, confusion. Defeat.

" A wise answer. "

Is it really? You'd argue dying would be saner. But you've abandoned hopes of staying sane, you are now remaining alive out of spite. A stubborn bull's desire to have its way even as a torero stabs it time and time again. And the crowd cheers, hoping you'll fall.

When all points of contact are severed between you two and an oppressive silence settles easily, there's no clue as to what your next move should be, so you stand like a statue, risking only chaste glances at their figure.

That's... That's it? It can't be.

" It seems I will have to teach you everything. " The entity spits. " Just as I did with my vessel. I expect you to come out of this apt for service. So listen well, for every time I am made to repeat myself, you will suffer. "

Something behind you knocks harshly onto your back, sending you tumbling forward on the altar, hands and knees on enchanted marble. Your entire upper body throbs with pain and you attempt to wheeze some air in and out of your lungs.

The moment an attempt to sit up is made, a rough foot keeps you down. You're well aware he's not putting half of his weight on it.

" Your first lesson is humility. " Krulu begins. " You shall know your place here, profess yourself to me properly. If you fail to do such, I see no reason to spare your ego. "

You're sure he's not talking about your dignity and pride when he says "ego".

How does one "profess themselves" to a god? What does he want you to say? You take a moment to think about Admin's mannerisms. He clearly likes the woman, and she's visibly -Perhaps manically- devoted to him, so whatever she's doing must be adequate. You suppose you ought to copy the purple-clad woman.

A rising rumble from above lets you know time is of the essence. The weight of a clawed foot increases on you, staggeringly powerful as it forces you to curve further the longer you disappoint this entity. Words force themselves out before you can think too hard and risk being compressed into a sheet of paper.

" M- My lord...? I... I belong to you. " That does not sound natural at all. In fact, it's painfully uncomfortable.

A disinterested chuff reaches your ears after a measured pause. " You sound far from appreciative. I am not convinced of your candor. "

A confused, terrified mind runs a mile a second, trying to think of anything more adequate, more appeasing.

" Allow me to help motivate you. "

Within seconds, the strength on your back is so great that it becomes oppressive, hindering your capacity to breathe further. Something creaks within you, awakening a brand new level of desperation as you fight to get the right answer out before he can smash the means to do such with.

" Please! Please my lord- I'll do anything you ask of me, I'm humbled by your mercy- " You choke, trying to get air into your lungs. " I live to serve you! It's my role. I'm yours. Please spare me! "

And, almost mercifully, the weight recedes a good deal. " Better. Albeit sub-par. "

You aim to survive.

Words cannot begin to express the relief you feel at the loss of his strength on your figure, taking a pained, desperate inhale. As if they could decide to steal your breath away at any moment now. Krulu takes several steps back on the altar, and once more, you're not too sure what to do. Is this what it's like for her? Constantly having to guess what to do in order to please this entity? Having no guides or clues, just the whispers of flames and the ticking of an impatient clock counting the seconds to failure... You can't take that. You couldn't take that for an hour, much less a lifetime.

" But that is forgivable. "

He begins, after a long moment leaving you to your thoughts, it seems.

" The most important task your mouth must perform is pleasuring, after all. "

Something bitter curls in your stomach at that declaration. You chose this. It's this or dancing six feet below the ground.

The massive entity squats upon the marbled surface, easily keeping their balance, arms shifting this way and that as they think, eyes poised on you. Although Krulu is an admittedly gnarled creature far from easy on anyone's eyes, you can't help but think that, sometimes, the light bathes his figure in a manner that's almost soothing. An elegance he has no right to hold. His home is in the shadows, you can tell, but somehow, light gravitates towards him too.

What is a being like this doing here? On Earth. Who is he? What is he? How long has he been pacing in this cage of a building, like a hidden mole? Something in you insists he shouldn't be here, and it's not just animal instinct, it's a... Warning, an idea that crawls to the forefront of your mind, as if you've always known it. He wouldn't be here if he didn't have to.

It's not pity that you feel for this immeasurably powerful being, but something like confusion. For a moment, you see a wounded animal limping on the side of the road after trying to hunt something much greater than itself. It's nature, in a way.

He must have caught that image in the reflection of your eyes, because the way his frown deepens into a scalding snarl has you instantly cowering like a leaf in the wind.

" Come. " They begin, causing your heart to leap into your throat. " Your first trial greets you. "

First trial...? Him? Before you have the chance to utter a single thing, Krulu raises a finger.

" Remember this. All you do is only ever permitted. "

Brows furrowing in an attempt to make sense of his riddle-like wording, you ultimately opt not to spend too much time standing around like an idiot and begin awkwardly closing the distance.

On the second step, something unseen and long bats itself onto the floor hard enough to make the ground shake violently. You fall onto your ass with a pained grunt, horrified and further confused.

" Must I open those ears? " He sneers, a pair of long arms crossed over his chest.

" N- No! I'm sorry- " Palms show in what you hope might placate the being. He's not stomping after you at least. That slitted stare is expectant however.

What does he want now? He said for you to approach, so what was so wrong there...?

All you do is only ever permitted.

Ah. Permission.

Doe eyes glance up. " May I walk towards you? " This sounds like a waste of time, frankly. But you have no idea how gods operate. Maybe this is standard etiquette for them.

His glare softens when you guess what to do correctly. " No. "

Uh. Okay.

" You may not. Crawl, like the worm you are. "

Sighing, you swallow the thoughts that second-guess your prior decision and lower to your hands and knees. The trek towards Krulu isn't long, but it manages to feel depressingly unflattering all the same.

You don't feel sexy or confident, just demeaned. This is not a place for confidence. It's hard to tell what his endgame here is.

" Enough. "

Cautious, your hands settle on your knees and you straighten up, awfully close to the large being's groin. Afraid even looking that way can incite their wrath, scared hues cast themselves to the candles again, trying to siphon that warmth.

The scream you let out once something grabs your whole head cuts off into a startled gasp as it's swiveled back to his likeness.

" On this altar, your eyes are to be fixed on me. "

" Y- Yes, lord. "

It seems the sooner you act accordingly, the faster he stops inducing fear on you, grip relenting.

Another standstill unfurls.

The persistent inability to know what to do next causes slight irritation to bud within you, but all he does is wave one hand dismissively, as if to tell you he's getting bored. To get on with it. You really hope that you didn't misinterpret it when he said "trial." You hope and pray you're not going to get ripped in two with these next words.

" May- " The hairs on your back stand and your voice escapes, defying your will, making you sincerely consider running from this creature. Even if it means certain death. " May I service you? " It comes out your mouth murmured, the death rattle of all dignity.

" Yess. "

With a gulp, you chance a glance at what you're working with, thanking the slight amount of illumination currently available. Like many other monsters you know of, at first glance, Krulu's pelvis appears barren of genital attributes. Though, given his size, it would be a bit hard to miss a thin seam of yellow where his slit parts slightly in this squatted position. Or is it just that he's already bothered? By you? No. No, there's no way...

So, a phallus at least. You're hoping. Who knows what the fuck could be in that pouch at this rate. But that's not the only thing you can see from this position. There's... Something moving below. With a confused squint, you tilt your head and note what appears to be two appendages parting ways like petals unfurling. More yellow reveals itself to you, two small and pointed growths curve forward. It takes you a moment to realize that you're looking at his strange, alien vulva.

Two sets. They really weren't kidding when they called this a "trial". Even when you scoot closer, the nervousness must be crawling all over your face, because he makes a comment.

" Explore. I will correct you. "

Far from reassuring. But then again, he must be incapable of such. Or just uncaring, that's more likely. What are you to him, if not the toy you agreed to be?

Well, time to be smart about things.

Time to set aside the mania in your brain telling you that you, a mere human, are going to engage sexually with a being whose oppressive totality you can't even comprehend, and focus on making things easier for you. Chances are that, taking this entity's magnificent size into account, avoiding his slit is a more intelligent choice. You don't need to be a scientist to know whatever's coming out of that will be scarily massive. Unmanageable perhaps. You're not looking forward to being literally impaled in an effort to appease a charred god.

Heading for his lower set is, by far, the safest bet.

Spreading your legs, your stature sinks further, and you can angle yourself to be mostly beneath his foreign pussy. The deity hums at your choice, adjusting their stance slightly, hips canting and arms moving to support his frame as it is ever so slightly presented to you. Behind him, a rough tail sways slowly, like the pendulum of a clock.

Given a much better look now, you realize that his labia are actually prehensile, moving every now and then. His vaginal opening doesn't seem to differ all that much from a human's in structure, at least outwardly, but what catches your attention is what must be his clitori. Two of them! That must make orgasms fun... They're large too, seeming to poke out their hood without difficulty, like thorns on a rose. For a pause, you're just observing him.

" Do you think it wise to test my patience at this moment? " He says in response to your mute awe.

" N-No! Forgive me, lord. " The fear response has kicked in more effectively, though it's not enough to drown your fascination. " ... You're beautiful. "

Krulu genuinely blinks in surprise. Subtle shock is replaced by a frown. A long finger dances under your chin, claw dragging on the fickle flesh, forcing you forward when it hooks upwards. " Pleasure, pet. Not flattery. "

Fair enough. You didn't mean to let that slip so easily.

Unsure how to go about this in a way that will please this being, whose sexual customs are vastly unknown, you figure starting timidly is smarter. Your hands lift, though the sharp glare you're given instantly make them dart to the marbled altar again.

" May-... May I use my hands? " Silence. " Please? "

" You may. "

At least that.

Tracing a slow path on the inside of this thighs, you edge upwards, marveling at the patterns engraved on the left one, scar tissue turned to infinite swirls. By the time you get to the inevitable, you begin by planting a kiss to the bottom of his entrance, trailing sloppy pecks upwards until your nose nudges against those two growths.

He looks down at you with an equally intense glare. Although where once it was filled with genuine irritation, now it's heated in a different way. No less intimidating however. A chuff is heard from above, those clits flex against the air in a motion that you find oddly erotic in spite of never having had contact with his species before.

A timid lap across the length of his opening is all you can manage to delay before focusing on those two. They look sensitive, they must be naturally, you fear too much direct stimulation can overwhelm him like it does some people. But it only takes a few experimental laps and kisses for him to "correct you". A palm drives your head harder against those buds, and he grinds on your face with a flex of long legs.

" I am not made of porcelain, lesser. "

" F- Forgive me- " Pressed against his cunt hard, all you can do is mumble the words onto it, face aflame. He seems to like the vibrations anyway.

" Take them into your mouth. "

Oh. Right, you can probably do that.

Circling one of their clits with a stubby tongue, you slip it into your warmth and, for lack of any guidance, suck on it cautiously. Krulu grunts something you can't interpret out, sighing when you pop it off your mouth to take care of the twin. With enough care, you manage to slip both in, sucking around the appendages, feeling them twitch on your tongue. It doesn't take long before he lets out a moan, this sound that seems to gently grace the walls, both high-pitched and low, as if two had reacted in unison.

It's a little hotter than it should be when he begins rolling against your mouth, almost causing you to bob. They taste of something intense, spreading an odd, nearly numbing tingle on your mouth. Something's popping in your tastebuds, bitter and sweet at different instances. It causes you to salivate excessively, drool trying its best to break down the complex substance you're coming in contact with. It's not an unpleasant flavor, so you find yourself easily suckling at him without a second thought.

The sound of faint dripping eventually breaks your focus.

You might be shamefully getting wet, but that's certainly not you. It takes a slight pause in your motions to incredulously peek down and spot his cunt clenching, empty, dripping slick in generous amounts. You hit the part of you that's drooling with a rolled up newspaper for being so impulsive. Still, when you quickly get back to servicing his clits, a stray hand coats itself in that viscous lubrication and you slip three fingers in without a hint of resistance. Then four. Honestly, you can slide your whole hand in there.

... Maybe you should?

Fuck it.

Your whole hand gets swallowed into Krulu's pussy, and while your eyes are wide in amusement, wondering if you could put your entire forearm in there, you're more focused in trying to find a spot to rub. It can't be that different from your anatomy, can it? You start palping and stroking with a purpose while slurping on him, determined to find that slightly ruggier tissue- Ah! There we are.

The higher arches, grunting, slipping more of your limb into himself with the jarring movement of his hips. It feels obscene, like you're fisting him. " Hhharder-! Harder, you hear me? "

He snarls, and like Hell you're going to risk unintentionally teasing him more. Your whole fucking palm rubs at what you think is his g-spot, feeling warm insides cling to your fingers, pulling you in with the force behind those reflexive pulses. Mesmerizing... This rolling rumble of a noise nearly shakes the walls, so you'll take it as a sign you're doing well. It's not too long before your arm is soaked by sloppy amounts of lubrication and your lips are puffed from sucking fattened clits. Krulu's sour disposition seems to be melting into a more tolerable demeanor, perhaps high on his enjoyment.

Better horny than angry, you guess.

More noises, this time from above, jolt your attention. Sensing movement, your eyes roam up to spot a sight that nearly makes you choke around the god's nubs. One hand coils over a glowing yellowed cock, shaped oddly just like the rest of him, some sections almost looking like rings. It strokes that length avidly, another hand from a different set of arms comes to rub circles around the head. He looks down at you lecherously, appearing to enjoy the show for a couple of heated moments where your gaze is locked on his and the massive being licks at their cruel grin.

When his head starts to tip upwards in the universal language of an approaching peak, Krulu drags you away from him by the neck, holding your pussy drool soaked face while the two of you catch your breath. The tingles on your tongue start to recede. The giant adjusts his position again, and this time, his massive cock faces you with a bob. Without extremities obscuring it, you can truly bask in its design, familiar, but so much better.

Your earlier point still stands however. There's absolutely no way in Heaven or Hell that cock is fitting anywhere inside you. Ever.

" Not as atrocious as I was expecting. But you are far from done, pet. "

Now curved forward, his great stature looms creepily. You don't see the nudge forward coming, nearly falling forth. Krulu makes an amused sort of titter.

" Resume. "

You almost don't want to crawl back towards him, but you know you need to tough through your own choice. He doesn't move a muscle, merely evaluating as you decide to start the same way you did with his cunt, kissing. One peck at the tip of his shaft, slicked by precum, then down the length you'll never take anywhere hopefully. It's admittedly impressive, the weight of it is such so that you require two hands to hold. And even then, you can't encompass his total girth. It's a beast of a cock, excusing the French.

Despite all odds, you try your best to do something that you think might pleasure him, struggling to jerk Krulu off. In fact, the motions are so clumsy that you believe he's purely just getting off on your pathetic attempts. Kitten licks are offered to a sensitive glans you can only suck at partially. The way those burning eyes shut just a bit further tells you he's at least taking enjoyment out of the whole thing.

It's still startling to feel something rough park at your bare pussy however. The rugged texture makes you believe it might be his tail for a second, but with the tapping of what can only be fingertips, you realize he's lowered a hand for you to sate yourself with. It rubs at your folds, spreading your own wetness and pressing knowingly over a bundle of nerves while you sigh around his girth.

" Are you daft? "

His voice isn't soothing at all. It's like... Wood bark in your ears, like branches snapping and scraping asphalt. You can only blink and gulp, befuddled.

" Fuck yourself on my fingers, you witless creature. "

That shouldn't have made your cunt clench the way it did. Though, at this point, you've stopped questioning why you're being aroused by gradually more obscene situations. In fact, enjoying this will make it a lot more bearable.

It's not too easy to multi-task, and given his impressive motor control of so many limbs, he must think your struggles are pitiful. Tentatively, you grind over his fingers, trying to slot them inside your warmth and getting struck by powerful shivers when he curls them helpfully. Thin and long, they slide into your walls with ease and reach places you've never been touched in before. Or maybe it's the way that he touches them. You have no doubt he could lift you by the cunt if he wanted to, and the bizarre thought has a quick moan making it past your lips, starting to roll into the friction with a little more gusto.

Krulu encourages you by hooking his phalange-like fingers, claws kept expertly folded. You feel your legs quaking and flexing in the wake of a god's touch, pleasure dawning upon you at a surprising rate. Although he's far from kind, far from safe, some itch in the back of your mind tells you to give in, to offer this entity your body and mind and all else they may crave of you. Because, somehow, someway, you understand that is your purpose. You understand you're looking at someone you should never defy and always, always seek to please.

He is your real God. And this is your new faith.

This sudden line of thought causes some genuine concern within you, as it's something completely out of left field. Never once have you felt so intensely about something. It must be his doing, it has to be. Ad yet, it feels right. Appropriate. Warming. You're not even aware your mouth is parted in silent bliss until Krulu appears to chuckle at your state.

" You will coat my hand in your effort to please me. And with your release, your role here is forever sealed. "

The hypnotizing finality of his statement is as striking as it is wonderfully arousing to you. Enough so that your heart cartwheels in your ribcage and your pace on his generous hand hastens. Maybe it won't even be so bad, you ponder while slicking his cock like a treat, you'd be protected, you wouldn't have to care about anything anymore. And you could get railed day and night by the monsters who lusted after you tonight, by the rest of them, the ones you can't help but fantasize about.

What would fucking the mimic be like? He deserves it for bringing you inside, for introducing you to your fate properly. And that slime, his kind has always exhibited such strange mating customs, how wild would things get? Oh, wasn't there a robot too? Your poor pussy drools as hard as your mouth does, each throbbing pulse of your walls hypnotically ebbing away your common sense. You're well aware pieces of your sanity have been chipping off like old pottery since the start of your contact with this god, but it doesn't feel as horrific as it should, it doesn't raise alarm or concern in you anymore.

Spiritualism isn't something you're very inclined to, but your mind tells you this is where you should be right now. And with that affirmation, everything seems to calmly slot into place again. Everything is as it should be.

" Y- Yes, my lord. "

Lashes flutter to a close briefly while you do your damndest to try to offer the deity more pleasure, unable to welcome him into your comparatively minuscule mouth. He grows fevered, legs shifting to feed more of himself into your grasp, likely frustrated by his mounting need, or perhaps being rough just for the sake of it. A jut of dark hips has that bright yellow length gliding on the side of your face in a debauched gesture that has you wondering if he could climax by simply grinding on your complexion. Eventually, slick, swift noises reach you, and judging by his moaning pants, you can only guess he's fingering himself to the scene.

Morbid curiosity has you peeking, the rhythmic plunging of equally dark digits into his sopping cunt confirming it. When you look back up, Krulu offers you a salacious rictus before thrusting hard, mean, just to jostle you.

" Lord- Lord Krulu- I'm doing my best, but I... I just can't fit you anywhere. I'm sorry- "

" Is it so? " The giant muses knowingly. " Well lesser, you will have to find a way to make me come somehow. Surprise me. "

Mind racing, you halt your motions on the now static hand between your legs, trying to figure something worth his time. A rotten little image finally surfaces, and you hope your filthy mind won't fail you now, of all times.

" Can... Can you please lower a bit more, Lordship? "

Krulu tilts their head subtly, elegant horns following, though your wish is granted. And so, you quickly scoot to be further beneath him, enough so that his heavy member rests on your front, from abdomen to chest and neck. The weight and warmth of it against your bare skin is a previously unknown sensation that you think you can get accustomed to, hands lifting to try to stimulate him in some manner, even pressing your breasts against him to whatever extent you can.

If he didn't think you were pitiful, he does now- Face flushed and dripping down his fingers, presenting yourself like some inanimate object to rut onto.

" Interesting... " He muses, and you can't be too sure if that's approval or an insult.

For some reason or another, the charred giant plays along, leaning forward to let himself grind against your body, each rock unavoidably powerful and gradually wetting you in his precum, a primitive marking ritual if there ever was one. Each back and forth has your face hotter than a furnace as you try, almost pointlessly, to lick at the end of him whenever it's close enough, oftentimes graced with a sloppy nudge against your cheek and mean-sounding chuckling from above.

Distantly, you wonder if this is what Admin goes through regularly. She's clearly his favorite, maybe this is a daily thing for them. It's easy to understand why her reverence of this being is so genuine and unbreakable. You can't help think that you'd be drawn here anyway, sooner or later.

Nothing matters anymore except doing as you're told, shuddering out moans and trying your best, apparently doing enough to warrant a reward as Krulu begins plunging his digits into you faster and harder than you've ever been fingered before, having tears prick at the corners of your eyes as it feels like he's fucking you himself in spite of being currently held between your breasts and arms. There's no mistaking the growls that dip into snarls low enough to rattle you, felt between every point of contact you have, rippling on your form, only speeding up your own approaching end.

Unable to squirm away from the relentless finger-fucking, it's all too soon before you're taken to the edge and near effortlessly tipped into a raging orgasm. Although it surprises you enough to let out a scream-like cry of ecstasy, you soon realize you're dealing with a god. He could probably kill you from orgasmic bliss alone if he wanted to. And you definitely feel something in your mind short-circuit, vision blurring with each pulse of a throbbing cunt around speedy, thin extremities. You're faintly aware of the fact that you just gushed onto Krulu's hand. Though neither of you are very concerned with that, you only struggle to breathe in the wake of growing overstimulation, arms now limp and body nearly falling back from how tensely it arches.

This feels like more than just an orgasm, if that's even possible.

Your lord detaches himself from your figure entirely, leaving a sweaty, goosebump-covered body to heave and sway, nipples as pert as the still twitching clit between your jelly-like legs. It's increasingly hard to focus on anything but the soft murmuring of the candles and the way light flickers off tapestry, but you register the motion of your head being yanked upwards to face Krulu while he rises to pump himself over you feverishly.

The erotic bucking of his hips into several pairs of lewdly moving hands over his own cock is hypnotizing. You can't help but watch his face keep contorting into different expressions of equally intense pleasure, until, all of a sudden, he makes a sound you can only call a roar. Loud and throaty and self-indulgent, reverberating in the very depths of your soul and rattling your skull with its volume.

The first splatter of cum on your body is jarring, eliciting a startled yelp followed by a heated groan when it's followed by more and more shots, all thick coats of Krulu's enjoyment of you. His approval of a brand new servant. Their seed all but leaves no part of you untouched, wide eyes having to shut themselves so as to not get pelted in the process. You can't help gasping and moaning like an animal at the sensation. Globs cascade down your belly and slide across your entrance. There's little else your boiled mind can do aside from merely pant and remain still like a depraved figurine covered in pearly white wax.

" Welcome to The Clergy's Eye, my present. "

Is the last thing you're able to coherently interpret before your mind starts distorting things again.

In between the following moments, could have been seconds or hours for all you'll ever know, you recall the image of a somewhat concerned and agitated green man with a pumpkin for a head looking you over. He murmured something fogged and unintelligible to your drunken self and seemed to carry you elsewhere in a hurry, much too fast for your muddled thought process and reflexes.

The glow of the elevator hurts your eyes.

The ballerina spins slowly on top of her stage, a soft, cheerful tune ringing across paint-splattered orange walls, the sound of rain softly cascading outside adding a homely element to things.

You sigh, comforted, leaning into Vinnel's gloved motions as he ties pink lace around your neck and forms a ribbon on the back. His gurgled hums fall in tune with the melody and he appears to be genuinely content. He always is when he gets to dress you up, it's become a beloved part of his routine.

" There we are, my pretty poppet! Do a spin for me! " The jester suddenly peels back, twirling in the air.

You stand in the frilled pink and white dress outfit he spent the better part of an hour perfecting, feeling gorgeous, softly painted cheeks rising and creasing the corners of your eyes when you smile for him. Grabbing the hem of your dress, you spin twice and feel warm at his exaggerated reaction.

" Uhuhuhuhu! Showstopping! Brilliant! " Vinnel titters, clapping enthusiastically before landing on the ground of his room to lightly boop you on the nose. " You're ready to head out then, missus. "

" Thank you, Vinnel. " And even though you sound perfectly innocent, when you hug him, one of your hands drifts down to palm at the heart shape on his groin, rewarded with a husky growl.

" Go on now, poppet. It's too early for games, you little slut. " He muses, stepping away to open the main door in his room so the two of you can head out.

Today, Admin requested to have breakfast with you, so you dutifully get on the elevator and head to the restaurant floor, finding the woman already seated in a pristine table, waving you over. Your feet quickly trot you over to her, sitting obediently and greeting your superior.

" Well well, look at our little model today. " She teases.

" Ah, thank you! Vinnel outdid himself. "

" Certainly. This is much more palatable than the bruises he likes to put on you usually. " You have to agree with her here, some spots of your body are still sore where he clawed at days ago.

Grimbly eventually zooms his way to the two of you with a tray containing your breakfast. A variety of pastries deposited on your side while Admin seemed to only want her coffee, always a shade of black so intense that it made it look as if she was drinking a void. The waiter wags his tail and beams at you, placing a sweet kiss to your cheek and cooing at your look before being waved away by the brunette.

" How do you feel about your stay here so far? Correct me if I'm wrong, but you didn't appear to regret your decision. " She sips from the steaming cup.

The answer is almost automatic.

" O-Oh, it's been really nice! Everyone wants me here so much, I... I like all my coworkers, it really feels like home. " You confess, feeling a tad sheepish but standing by your words. " I can't describe how fulfilled I am nowadays. I'm happy when... Everyone's happy. It's hard to explain but I really feel like I've gained- "

" Purpose? "

You pause. Yeah. That's precisely the word. How come she's always so right? " Exactly. "

Admin nods, a tiny smile on small lips. She got whatever response she wanted out of you, it appears.

" I'm glad we see things similarly. " Her eyes unfocus, following the swirl of her bottomless coffee cup as if it calls to her sweetly. " It's... Nice, having a human acquaintance here. " It's said with a hint of shock, as if the revelation surprised even her.

You can't help but preen under the praise, offering the woman one of your palmiers. She declines politely, and it's when you return to staring at your plates that you finally see the little note attached to one of them.

Good morning, love. I'll see you soon, hopefully.

A small series of scribbled hearts circle the message, you know exactly who it's from.

" Santi. "

There's a hum from the brunette in front of you. " Mhm, he paid for those. "

" Aw... That's really sweet of him. " Truly, he's always been a sweetheart, since the very start of all this, however long ago that was. Time is barely a concern for you anymore.

" Sometimes he still gloats about being the first you chose, you know? " She grins for a short second. " I think you inflated his ego forever. "

The knowledge makes you actually burst out laughing for a few hearty second where the sound echoes off the vastly empty restaurant. That's adorable, honestly.

" Oh , he might just become my favorite if he keeps buying me treats like this. " A joke you know, had you said it to the rest of them, an argument would instantly break out.

" Why shouldn't he treat you a little today? " Admin's brow rises, head tilted in that way that almost reminds you of Krulu, when he's more comfortable. Still, she knows something you don't, causing you to blink and sit there like a dumbfounded donkey.

" ... You haven't put it together yet, have you? "

No. No, you haven't.

The chestnut-eyed woman crosses her legs and snickers quietly. A couple of seconds pass where she expects you to make a sudden discovery, but the eureka moment isn't coming any time soon.

Finally, she takes mercy on you with a shake of the head. " It's been a year since you were gifted to us. "

...

A year. Has it been that long already? It felt like a miserable few months, if that much. Everything is just so fast here, it really does feel like yesterday when you were screaming at Hellion and Pebble in the garden.

Has it really been that long since you left everything behind?

Strangely enough, bits and pieces of your life before becoming a part of The Clergy are becoming harder to recall in clear detail, faces blur and places become nameless. You don't know what you used to do for a living, or what your routine is. Where did you even live? It doesn't sound important anymore. It isn't.

You're exactly where you should be.

Suddenly, the seat you're currently on ripples and shifts bizarrely, a vibrating purr-like noise spreading across your legs as the chair appears to grow a discolored grayish set of shackled arms and grasps your stocking-clad thighs with them, something wet and slimy brushes against your ankles. The mimic relishes your startled yelp and only holds onto you harder, tittering at having fooled you efficiently. That goofy bastard.

" Hm, they're going to be all over you today... " She sighs like a disappointed babysitter.

" Get ready. "

#Krulu oc #Vinnel oc #Sybastian oc #terato #monster x reader #monsterfucker #monster smut #terat0philliac #yandere monster #yandere teratophilia #Gifted🎀

[nalyra-dreaming]

Can’t wait for people to flip when they meet “Privileged French White micro-aggression compilation”’s mentor, Mr. macro-aggression colonizer superiority complex Marius “I married a thirteen-year old former sex slave and adopted him as my son” de Romanus. Marius is his own trigger warning. Wait until they hear about Marius’ disciplinary methods involving whips and willow switches. Or the fact that Marius sent his son-wife to a brothel to learn “important skills”. Or that when he told Lestat about Those Who Must Be Kept, Marius literally framed Akasha’s genocidal tendencies as “taming savages”. Oh boy, it’s not gonna be good.

Like… Who do you think Lestat learned his skewed world view from? Moving to America was probably a bucket of cold water to Lestat. I would like to give Lestat the benefit of the doubt, as his father was an asshole aristocrat. Lestat quickly learned how privileged he was, even as a disgraced marquis’ son. His genuine horror at how the racist fat cats treated Louis said everything to me. I don’t think anyone understands that Lestat is interested in doing better. He is. He’s working through it. He will fuck up, because nobody ever gave him a look outside his little world.

The thing is, vampires do end up in ruin when they stay behind as the world around them goes forward. Just like humans, when we get stuck in outdated ideals. It’s heavily implied at the end of the Blood Communion novel that Marius is slowly going mad. All vampires do, at some point, go through a period of madness. Some just come out of it better than others. In the IWTV novel, Louis eats grass and mopes around his brother’s rectory for a while after Armand hesitantly leaves him. Armand kills his own coven. Khayman loses his memories for a while and wanders the world, snacking on mortals’ bone marrow. Daniel becomes mute and obsessive, luckily finding an outlet in model trains. Poor Lestat lost an eye and had to be restrained, before he slept for a long while. Thorne got tied down for a while. Benji and Sybelle. Unm. Well, Benji ended up with a podcast and Sybelle delved into the piano. And Louis, of course, tried to kill himself once— but it changed his relationship with Lestat for the better.

Okay, so I went on a meta tangent, but the point is, Marius is an even bigger fuck-up than Lestat, and covering him is going to get pretty ugly. And even more existential. I hope viewers stop and philosophize, you know? Everyone stops to question the nature of mankind and how we fall if we don’t move with time.

And as far as Marius goes, hope Justin Kirk is prepared. 😅

P.S. I swear I’m not high, just tired. 🥱

:))

(For those who think the "eating grass" is an euphemism here: "I was picking at the grass, and tasting it, though the taste was bitter and unnatural. The gesture seemed natural.":))

Marius... is going to be something. Which is part of the reason why I keep saying that Justin Kirk will be perfect if he is, because it needs a very seasoned actor with a lot of thick skin to pull him off (and, I mean, Justin does not shy away from difficult characters as we know *nods at Succession*).

It will be interesting to see what kind of wounds they will put their proverbial fingers in.

Like, the casual racism and superiority complex Marius employs has to clash with Armand's recast, too. Not necessarily with the choice (of Amadeo) per se, but with the circumstances. I am betting real money that there will be some very uncomfortable meta commentary on sex slave trade in combination with racism coming up right there (and I for one want them to make that commentary! Even though it will probably lead to more fandom drama.).

These vampires are children of their times, and they do change/adapt/grow, but... slowly. (I am not so sure about Lestat getting his world view from Marius, I think there is a reason why Lestat never became the pupil Marius wanted him to be, and I do think that Lestat might be willfully ignorant at times, which can come off a certain way, but his own backstory is more to blame here than Marius, imho.)

I do not need Marius to be a good character to enjoy the fuck out of him, on the contrary.

I am not sure if the show will go the "whip" way. They might insinuate. I think they will, as with other scenes let the mind of the audience do the rest, which will be more than enough, too. I mean, the audience can read up on it all in the book *coughs*. There's no need to go more explicit than needed.

But yes. I hope Justin Kirk is prepared :)))

And... I hope the audience is prepared as well.

#Anonymous #asks #ask nalyra #amc iwtv #iwtv #amc interview with the vampire #interview with the vampire amc #iwtv amc #iwtv 2022 #interview with the vampire #marius de romanus #justin kirk #the vampire armand