Untitled Generic Vore Story
By one "Dude Guy"
Irwin sat dejectedly by the tall, broad Maple tree with the currently-green
leaves out in the clearing his family had owned ever since his great-grandfather,
whose nickname, "Zeke," had always been a topic of familial
levity, had purchased their property on which their house currently resided.
Sitting alongside him, for no readily apparent reason, was a largish dragoness
whom we will refer to for convenience's sake as "Jacquiline."
Her scales had a sort of brownish hue to them for the most part, though
speckled throughout were green ones, giving indication of her natural
habitat's being inside a forest of some sort. Her eyes were like two large,
yellow spheres designed expressly for the purpose of accepting light from
one end and subsequently focusing it on the opposite side of the interior
of said sphere.
"So I said, there are really no good movies out right now, but he
refused to believe me. He wants to go see some Adam Sandler thing. Can
you believe that?" Irwin griped to Jacquiline, as he had reason to
believe that she did indeed legitimately care about his trials and tribulations
with pressing his opinions upon others, in this case specifically his
friend Peter Hayes, who was a fan of Adam Sandler's and, as a result,
a little on the slow side and very unwilling to compromise in his movie-viewing
habits, since Adam Sandler movies are about as hard to locate as hydrogen
atoms in this day and age.
"Awful shame, that," replied Jacquiline, the meaty, fatty flesh
on her neck shaking from the vibrations produced by the larynx deep inside
her throat and continuing on down her relatively bulky body until they
ran out of momentum and gelatinous-enough flesh to sustain the oscillations
produced by her voice-box.
The larynx, of course, is among the most important body parts involved
in the production of speech-related sounds. The action of the two muscular
diaphragms tightening, loosening, or vibrating causes a noise to move
up through the trachea and out through the mouth, where it is then modified
by the motions of the tongue, lips, and teeth. However, due to curious
evolutionary oversight, the human larynx, in order to be usable for speech,
is placed in such a location within the neck that the trachea and esophagus
share territory, with the practical downside being that humans are the
only organisms capable of choking on food and, as a result, dying of asphyxiation.
"Yeah, I was headed home anyway," admitted Irwin with a tone
of detachedness, whilst at the same time responding to an unconscious
signal from his skin cells on the top of his left shoulder to his brain,
indicating that there were excess dead skin cells residing on top of the
currently-living ones, and as a direct result was given the sensation
of itching in his upper-left corner, which he subconsciously responded
to with a quick series of scratches, one going diagonally, the other two
moving perpendicularly to his neatly-trimmed fingernails.
"Well, I suppose there's not much to complain about, this being summer
vacation for you and all," Jacquiline reminded him, and, consequently
noticing her lips having dried out from both the lack of ambient humidity
and her having talked a great deal over the past few minutes, drew her
tongue out to the corner of her mouth, slowly tracing the contour from
the upper-left in a clockwise motion, stopping one-third of the way through
the bottom lip in order to retract her tongue back into her great maw
to re-moisturize it, then let loose and wet down the remainder of her
bottom lip.
"Yeah, it really is pretty boring though," uttered Irwin with
a pause, as he took the moment to stare off into oblivion and, when his
eyeballs began to lose their lubricating saline coating, blinked, his
eyelids closing over his ocular apertures like Venus Fly-Traps over flies,
except that they were flesh, and opened within a fraction of a second,
and on the whole were completely unlike carnivorous botanical life of
any sort. "I dunno. Uhh, wanna eat me?" he ventured in the manner
of someone who was headed into territory he had never covered before.
"Yeah, what the hell. It's something to do," Jacquilline replied
to his query. It had indeed been a while since her last meal, which consisted
partially of a raccoon she had found in her sylvan home, but mainly of
roots and small purple berries which remained unknown to all involved
as to their classification. They had only grown there as of recent, since
they had accidentally been planted there three years ago by small birds
migrating from Canada, whom Jacquiline had consumed soon afterward in
a rather nonchalant and businesslike manner.
The pair then began to gaze deeply into each other's eyes, not out of
burning, seething passion but simply out of confusion as to how this whole
thing was to be accomplished. Irwin's first thought was that he should
probably take off at least some of his clothing, as he had learned from
past negative experiences with his pets that animals, and here he also
assumed mythical ones as well, had difficulties in digesting synthetic
materials, and he was, at the moment, wearing his father's old polyester
leisure suit from the 70s for the purpose of his (Irwin's) fitting in
at a retro-themed party earlier that day.
Irwin began to slowly strip, as well as to efficiently split infinitives,
first undoing the middle collar button of his shirt, the top one already
being undone in accordance with the general rules of shirt-wearing etiquette.
He then proceeded on to the bottom of the three buttons, expertly sliding
it out the slit of cloth holding it captive. In rapid succession, he gave
his belt a quick tug and, taking care not to allow the pin to re-set itself
in place, slid the long, narrow strip of tanned leather from the loops
at the top of his pants. He then undid another button there, proceeding
on to pushing his fly out of the way and lowering his zipper; most people
have no idea, it seems, that the fly of a pair of pants is little more
than a flap of fabric, so when they say, "your fly is open,"
though they may mean the zipper, they are really referring to little more
than a small piece of denim or cotton. Presently, he began to remove his
shirt, pulling his left arm up through the sleeve while holding it (the
sleeve) in place with his right hand, then sliding his left arm out the
bottom of his shirt and doing much the same thing with his right sleeve
before pulling his head through the shirt and hanging it on a nearby tree,
the finality of his ingestion not yet fully realized to his subconscious
mind. Now clothed from the waist down, or, rather, from a few inches below
the waist down, as his pants were slightly too big for him (hence the
belt), he began to remove his sneakers, pulling with unimaginable force
upon the freed ends of the knotted laces. This worked only on his right
shoe, leaving him no other choice than to try to yank his left off using
only sheer force and the loop on the back of the shoe. He placed his father's
platform shoes beneath the shirt, moving on to the rather simple task
of taking off his pants, which consisted of little more than a brief bout
of shimmying on his part. These, too, went on the tree with his shirt.
At this point, Irwin was naked except for his size-34 briefs, which were
made of 100% cotton, so he felt they would fail to be a nuisance to Jacquiline's
gastric prowess. That, and he felt kind of funny about being naked in
public, even though they were merely in a rather secluded forest clearing.
"So, uh, how are we going to do this? Head-first? Feet-first?"
Irwin inquired in a manner totally devoid of passion, his main reason
for the whole thing being, as previously mentioned, intense boredom.
"How about you flip a coin?" Jacquiline suggested whilst gesturing
subtly toward Irwin's clothing by raising her head slightly and turning
it a bit to the right, using the muscles of her long neck, though it,
like the human neck, contained only seven vertebrae. "Let's see...
heads, we'll do it feet-first, tails, we'll go head-first," she added
as Irwin rummaged through his pockets, finding a quarter. Jacquiline noticed
no real oddness in her having reversed the logical connection between
"heads" and "tails" in this context, but she cared
not.
The coin, specifically a quarter, was tossed high into the air. It spun,
shimmering in its silvery splendor. It flipped end over end over end over
end, before coming to a rest far from its intended location, landing instead
in a large pile of dead foliage some seven feet from Irwin.
"Shit!" he exclaimed before sprinting toward where he had thought
he had last seen the quarter. It turned out to be eight inches farther
from him than he had expected, but he found it soon enough, and in the
process noticed George Washington's profile sticking up from the top of
the small metallic disc. "It's heads," he called over to her
before ambling back over himself, depositing the twenty-five cents in
his pants pocket along the way.
After a moment of standing there in front of each other awkwardly, as
it was the first time for both of them, Jacquiline decided to make the
first move, bringing her tail around from behind her and wrapping Irwin
in it. However, this was not the ideal situation, as she would have to
twist her torso, neck and tail into the most unpleasant contortions imaginable
in order to get him even to the vague proximity of her oral region. After
a short exercise in looking foolish through gaping at air, she decided
to replace him on the ground before her.
"How about you just sorta climb up? I'll put out my hands for you,"
she offered as an idea, though her use of the word "hands" to
refer to her forepaws was merely a case of inaccurate usage, as she was
quadruped in nature, though she did have her more humanoid moments in
gesturing and posture. She placed her arms in front of her and lowered
her head slightly, bending each joint in her neck slightly to provide
a total effect equal to the sum of its parts. Irwin then began the climb
upward, first putting his right foot in her left hand, then, grasping
her neck with both arms, his left foot into her right hand, and held tightly
as she slowly eased him toward her mouth. "You said feet-first, right?"
Irwin nodded his answer, and from there she began to slowly, carefully
help him upward, then opening her jaws to reveal a single row on the top
and bottom of teeth, mainly incisors, but also some molars in the back
for tougher foods such as the aforementioned plant life. She rolled out
her tongue
slowly, the saliva beginning to drip from her tongue's having been extracted
from her mouth. She placed Irwin's foot on it.
She immediately removed Irwin from her mouth. "Oh GOD, would it kill
you to shower daily?" she chastised, while simultaneously spitting
out the acrid taste of Irwin's unpleasantly unclean body. "At least
wash yourself off in that little stream over there," she gestured,
her finger extended in the general direction of the small rivulet which
had until now gone unheeded both by Irwin and the narrator. She lowered
her forelimb soon afterward, the joint bending slowly while the shoulder
lowered its part of the limb as well. Irwin grudgingly got into the cold,
shallow, quickly running water, leading to his suddenly screaming like
a little girl one second later. Yes, the water was cold, and yes, he was
nearly naked, and yes, it was a rather breezy day, the end result being
that, while he became slowly more and more clean, he also became slowly
more and more frigid, his evolutionarily unneeded response to cold causing
his skin's hairs to stand up in a futile attempt to capture any and all
warmth possible, given the situation. Deciding briefly afterward that
his having scrubbed down his various body parts with his hands, and that
his underwear was now absolutely sopping, he got back out or, rather,
was lifted out with Jacquiline's help.
"Let's try this again," she uttered slowly, bringing him slowly
toward her mouth, though also trying to help him keep his balance on her
hands, as he was being suspended some three feet from her neck, resulting
in his lacking anything to hold on to. She sat down on the grass, holding
him by his head. She then placed his one foot on her tongue, muttering,
"Mmm, that's better," this time. Gradually, she began to move
his other leg toward her mouth in much the same manner as the first, with
the added metaphorical wrinkle of there already being one-half of that
variety of his limbs previously placed into her maw. And why is it that
vore-story authors always use the word "maw?" Is it because
saying "mouth mouth mouth" seems too repetitive? Or maybe it's
just easier to type? Perhaps it's for the variety and the desire therefore.
Regardless, his legs were both in her mouth, and she was now supporting
his body with her hands, as I will call the ends of her forelimbs from
now on, much as I will say "arms" when I mean "forelimbs."
Her tongue lay flat on the bottom of her mouth, and she was doing her
best not to injure him on her teeth, since they were quite sharp and pointy.
She began to suck lightly on him, but largely for reason of inability
to swallow her spit, due to the legs and now bottom half of a torso in
her mouth. She continued to feed his body (no pun intended) into her mouth,
swallowing infrequently.
"OW OW OW OW OW! My leg's caught OW! in the corner of your jaw! OW
OW OW!" exclaimed Irwin with a start. Jacquiline, being the kind,
benevolent cohort she was (despite her eating him) pulled him out quickly
and placed him on the ground. "Thanks, I think my leg'll be fine...
maybe we should try this head-first." Irwin was obviously not too
into it, though he had once listen to a friend of his describe his --
admittedly, rather odd -- desire to be swallowed alive by a dragon, though
for him it was but a mere fantasy. Irwin, on the other hand, had the dragon.
He had been wondering while in Jacquiline's mouth when it was supposed
to get good, though he reflected that maybe the other approach would work
better.
"Well, head-first should be easier. At least this way I only have
to lift your head to my mouth," she reasoned, her eyes rolling slightly
at the thought of having to lift his entire being to head level again.
Jacquiline resumed her sitting position by the tree, and this time simply
gave up on the idea of merely helping him to her waiting mandible. Hold
on a second, is it all right if I just skip all the synonyms for "mouth"
from here on in? It's really getting rather tiresome, and all that really
comes to mind are "maw," "jaws," and "mandibles,"
though I'm rather certain the last one is inaccurate, given the context.
From now on, I'm just saying "mouth." And the same goes for
"throat," too. The hell with the word "gullet." Sounds
like a land formation that contains various species of odd animal life.
The only word you'll see of the sort in this story will be "throat."
So anyway, she lifts him up, where was I? Oh yes. As she lifted him up,
her clawed hands pressing firmly, but not painfully, into his sides slightly
below the bottom ribs of each side of his rib cage, she opened her mouth
around him and bent her neck downward to greet his incoming head. Briefly
mulling over the possibilities in her mind -- bite, chew and swallow?
Eat him like a duck eats things? Relax her throat and just let loose?
-- she eventually decided to play it by ear. Wrapping her lips around
his chest in order to keep him from falling as she slid her hands down
his sides, the dragoness began unintentionally to lick his body (it was
pressing up against her tongue). Decent flavor, she remarked to herself.
Could use some steak sauce, though, maybe even ketchup. Irwin, on the
other hand, was thinking to himself how similar the situation seemed to
a vertical "Slip 'n' Slide." Irwin was soon afterward overpowered
by the smell of her mouth, realizing quickly that the reason her breath
was so bad was probably because it had been passing through her mouth
on its way from her lungs to the atmosphere.
Still trying carefully to keep from impaling Irwin on her teeth (ironically,
the ones which were of issue here were her canines), she decided quickly
against removing his underpants (for her own good) and then continued
to push him into her mouth, her face now pointing forward rather than
upward, and Irwin's body now bending rather unpleasantly on an angle.
Still sitting, she leaned back against the tree, put her hands behind
the base of her neck, and spread her legs comfortably. Irwin, on the other
hand, was still pinned in the "torpedo" position due to necessity
of his being crammed into her throat. In fact, the only part of him still
remaining outside her throat at this point were his feet, which Jacquiline
smartly decided to push her tongue the hell out of the way for, due to
their general unpleasantness both in odor and flavor; he had also neglected
to cut the toenails recently, which certainly didn't help.
At this point, I'll describe things from the outside. Jacquiline is reclining
against a tree with her tail out of the way, her legs spread, and her
neck swollen and pulsating like some mutant snake. Meanwhile, within that
mutant-snake-looking neck of hers, Irwin is starting to hear her heartbeat
and wondering when it's going to get good. By now his feet were past her
mouth, much to her relief. He continued to slide down her neck, helped
along by the undulating motions of peristalsis as well as by her hands,
which were at this point rather frantically trying to press him down through
her throat, as she was becoming tired of waiting for it to just happen
on its own and giving gravity a boost.
Irwin's head slid from her esophagus to her stomach with an audible "pop,"
and though it was very dark in there, he was able to see the now-mandatory
meat products, in this case two hamburgers, but also (and this was the
part that confused him the most) an unopened box of "Lucky Charms."
His only real thought on the matter was that she had probably lied to
him about being a great hunter of food and had likely robbed some kid
coming home from the grocery store. This train of thought was interrupted
by the rather uncomfortable pressing of his head powerfully into the opposite
side of her stomach, which was at this point looking far too constricting
to fit his entire body. Jacquiline was thinking much the same thing at
the moment, which is why she was relatively unsurprised to see the panels
of her underbelly begin to slide apart and her abdomen begin to swell
as her neck began to return to its normal size. Irwin, on the other hand,
was far too busy trying to assume the fetal position in order to avoid
such embarrassing incidents as the leg-twisting that had happened similarly
before, and soon after decided, hey, what the hell, may as well open and
eat the cereal, not once pausing on how odd it was that a cardboard box
had been sitting inside her for any given length of time and remained
undigested. Jacquiline was spending the time simply trying to find a comfortable
position to sit in, what with her legs spread rather far now in order
not to be pressed underneath her rather swollen middle, which was as of
now resting on the grass in and of itself. She gave up briefly on the
idea in order to let out a loud, most certainly non-feminine belch, releasing
the various gases that had gotten stuck inside her gastronomic system
during the process of eating Irwin.
Irwin, now losing consciousness from the lack of air, became rather giddy
for a brief moment before falling asleep. His last thought was, "Dammit!
I left the television on!"
Jacquiline, having given consideration to somehow regurgitating Irwin
somehow, came to the understandable decision to just sorta leave him in
there. For one thing, it had been quite a while since she had been able
to find any food. And, more simply, she just couldn't stand listening
to him bitch constantly about others' lack of taste in movies, music,
and books.
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