Title:Untitled Generic Vore Story
Author: Dude Guy
© 2003
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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.