The View From The Cage
By: Eurovore
Uh oh…it’s a disclaimer! The following is a work of fiction. It contains graphic violence, non-consensual vore and chewing. Please do not read if you are offended by such subject matter. As stated this is a work of fantasy and in no way does the author condone violence. If you wish to continue…I hope you enjoy reading it.
I watched through the bars of the cage as he walked into the room. Before he turned me into this 6-inch freak in a pet cage, I'd known him as a nice, genuine guy, a trusted work mate and someone with whom I'd happily go for few drinks at the end of the day. Now I only saw the evil, sadistic monster who's violence appeared to know no bounds.
He dropped his car keys on the counter about three feet away from where I was sitting in the cage. He didn't even look at me, just turned on the radio and sat down on a stool next to the counter. His back was to me, but judging from the squirming I could see from the small cloth bag he'd taken out from his pocket, I knew what was going on and worse, knew what I was about to witness. He got up and when he did I could see the 'small' guy crouching in fear on the counter, the now empty bag beside him. Steven walked over to fridge and took out a far of some sort of dip, laying it down next to the cowering little guy, bewildered and scared.
Steven picked up the little guy in his hand. Holding him close to his face he smiled. “Bet you are full of question's my little friend. How? Why? What happens next?” The guy didn't move - held there frozen in terror. “Well” smirked Steven, “It was me that made you like this, I did it because I can and frankly my friend.... consider yourself now nothing more than food. Something for me to snack on before I head to the gym.” This caused the little guy to squirm, scream and try to wriggle out of Steven's grip. I knew it would be useless, but I guess the survival instinct is strong and I'd seen them all do it.
Steven reached over with his other hand and grabbed an empty glass jar, depositing the little guy head first into it. The fall had dazed the guy, he lay crumpled in the jar and part of me prayed that he'd remain unaware of the impending snack-time in the Steven Jones house. Steven took an empty bowl, put some of the dip into it and mixed in some herbs. He picked up the jar with the guy in it, walked over to the tap and ran some cold water into it. The sudden cascade of water woke the poor little bastard with a start and he started gasping and screaming for help. Steven coolly tipped out the water and guy into his hand. Taking the guy by the torso, he dipped the guy's legs into the mustard mix and before the guy could kick any longer, popped his legs into his mouth and sucked off all the dip. Pulling the guy's legs out of his mouth, between his clenched lips, he laughed and said, “mmm best dip this week, makes you nice and hot! I do find that small people can sometimes be a bit bland to the pallet.” With this he dumped the guy into the bowl again, up to his waist and stuck him back in his mouth. This time after sucking off the dip, he gripped the guy's legs between his teeth, with the rest of the guy outside his mouth. Letting go of the top half he held the now hysterical little 'snack' only by his huge teeth, before biting down and letting the guy's legless body drop into his hand. He stood there smirking, crunching away at the guy's legs while the little man lay, still alive in his hand. Dipping one finger in the mustard he spread a mix over the remainder of the guy and stuck what was left of the dip, he popped the remainder of the man back into his mouth. I could see him manoeuvre the guy inside his mouth with his tongue, no doubt getting the little guy's head between his molars. He bit down hard with a sickening, audible crunch and chewed away before swallowing hard.
When he'd finished, he looked over at me, winked and said “nice and healthy and not too filling before the gym. Well, healthy for me at least.” Then he turned and walked out of the kitchen.
It had been the same pattern for four nights now. He came home with another little man, and in front of me ate them. The first one he swallowed whole. Took some doing too by the looks of it. The guy almost got stuck half way down! I kinda hoped Steven would choke to death on the guy...but then who would have helped me? The next night it was slowly, limb by limb. Worst of all was last night; he'd actually cooked the guy, alive. I couldn’t take much more of this. I was torn between fear for what would become of me and despair at the evil I witnessed nightly. I'd asked, pleaded with Steven to tell me why he kept me and ate all the others. What did he have planned? Was it because he knew me...I couldn't see it.... he was obviously totally amoral, so why keep me in a cage out of some perverted sense of familiarity?
Steven's head popped back round the door of the kitchen. He looked at me, grinned and said, “It's Friday mate, you know what that means don’t you? Your time is almost up, Saturday night approaches and I'm having a friend over for dinner. Your boyfriend, Andrew actually. I've always wanted to give him a good fucking and looks like I'm going to get my chance. Oh and in case you think that he'll be your knight in shining armour and save you from the terrible me, I called him at work today and he knows exactly what's on the menu. He told me to tell you he's looking forward to you.”
The sound of an alarm going off somewhere else in the house woke me from my thoughts. I glanced up through the bars of the cage at the clock on the kitchen wall. 11.30, Saturday morning, and if that total bastard Steven Jones had been telling me the truth, what awaited me that evening did not bare thinking about. But that's all I had done, think about it, sitting, all six glorious inches of me, in a cage in the kitchen of this guy I once thought was a mate.
Worse still, as Steven had left last night, he'd told me that Andrew, my partner of ten years was in on the act. It just couldn't be true. Andrew and I has a great relationship, we'd always been happy together and besides, there was no way that someone a gentle as Andrew would have anything to do with violence, yet alone come to a dinner date with a guy who was planning on serving me up as the main course. Well I assumed it was the main course, knowing the way my luck was running, I'd probably been relegated to an appetiser.
I had thought, even in my darkest hours in this prison, that Andrew had reported me missing to the police. That they had mounted a search, found my car in the car park of the bar Steven and I had gone to that night, and at this point they were closing the net on Steven Jones, poised to rescue me from the jaws of death - literally!
The door of the kitchen opened and the massive sight of Steven came in, dressed only in his boxers, exposing a slender but well muscled frame and a mass of dark hair covering his chest. He has a clean-cut look about him. The guy next door. Handsome enough, pleasant to spend time with and the sort of man you'd rely in to help you out in a crisis. Fuck me, how wrong could you be? I’d witnessed that same man eat four shrunken, but very much alive men. He seamed to enjoy the power, the majesty of being the ultimate man - reducing other men to nothing more than his food. If there was a God, or even natural justice, this shit of a person had to suffer. How I wished it could be me inflicting that suffering. Steven walked over to the cage and leaning on the counter stuck his face up close to the bars. Smiling in at me, his massive face filled my field of vision. “Well mate” he boomed, “today's Saturday and you know what that means. Several hours from now your lovely boyfriend and I are going to be dining together here in this house. A romantic meal, and best of all you'll be able to play your part. Not only is it nice of you to get out of the way for us to be together, but also I'm sure you'll provide us both with a tasty, if unconventional meal. How perfect to bring in the new, - that's me shorty - by devouring the old...that's you in case you had forgotten!”
I got up from the floor of the cage and stood inches from Steven's face. Without thinking, I looked up and spat straight in his eye. Ineffectual in the extreme, the size difference rendering my spit almost pointless, but it made me feel better. Steven blinked the irritation away from his eye and threw back his head laughing. When he stopped, he coughed up, spat and covered me all over the top of my body in a disgusting, warm, thick lump of phlegm. Looking down at me he smirked. “I'll give you top marks for bottle, but lets face it Joe, your no match for me in your current evolution. You want to know something? All the time I've known you I've been jealous of you, jealous of you and Andrew and your smug little lives. Now I realise that you are nothing more than a jumped up piece of shit. And do you know what's even funnier.... come Sunday some time all you will be is a little piece of my shit. Looking forward to it shorty?”
The kitchen was in darkness. Steven had been in it most of the afternoon, preparing food. Thank fuck, he'd not come near me. He'd not spoken to me once. I'd spent the whole time in a state of panic. Every time he came near the cage I'd thought this is it. I'd been near vomiting thinking of what was to come, how he'd do it. Would I know? Would I be alive when it happened? I'd seen him cook one of his victims alive. Shit, what would be worse, the pain of being cooked, or the pain of being ripped apart by his teeth? I swear, if there had been something there to do it with I'd have topped myself. I'm as big on survival as the next man, but I also have no desire to suffer. It was all academic, Steven and apparently my fucking boyfriend planned on eating me, and at six inches high, and trapped in a cage there was fuck all I could do about it. I just prayed it was fast.
Steven turned on the CD in the living room. Coming into the kitchen and switching on the light, I could see he was ready for his date. Objectively he looked lovely. Tall (by anyone’s perspective), fit, wearing a tailored suit over a plain white shirt, his black hair cut short and neat, he looked quite the perfect date. Shame about the sadism, murder and snacking on guys like me.
The doorbell went and Steven went to answer it. I'd like to think that it was the police, here to rescue me, return me to normal and hopefully turn a blind eye while I kicked the living shit out of Steven and put a bullet through his head. It wasn’t. It was Andrew, looking happy and contented as he walked into the kitchen behind Steven, accepting the dry martini Steven handed him and not so much as casting a glance in my direction. They chatted, I mean they actually chatted, about work and this person and that person. Holy shit, was Andrew that much of a psycho that even he couldn’t see the perversity of the situation? Not two meters away his partner of ten years was in a hamster cage, waiting to be served up as part of dinner. This was two fucked up. As he accepted another martini from Steven, he finally looked over at me, winked, licked his lips and turned back to Steven whom he then grabbed by the back of the neck and started kissing.
Steven came over to the cage and opened the lid. His massive hand reached down inside and picked me out. Walking with me held firmly in his hand, he dumped me in a bowl of water on the counter top. Turning to Andrew he said “well he had been in there for four days and none of us would eat something normally that wasn't clean, would we?” Andrew laughed loudly as Steven picked me out, dried me off and put me in a shallow glass bowl lined with some sort of salad. He put the glass lid on top of the dish ensuring that I could do nothing but lie there on the strange meadow. Carrying the container through to the dinning room, I could see that he'd set it up for a very romantic meal. Candles, nice music and a table set out lovingly with food for two people to enjoy. Steven deposited the glass dish with me in it in the middle of the rest of the food. He and Andrew took their respective places at the table and I watched as they started eating, not even looking at me. When would it come I thought, when would Steven or Andrew lift off the lid and select me, which one of them would actually eat me, or would they share? I was soon to find out.
From below I saw Steven’s massive hand reach across and lift the lid from my glass tomb. He reached in, picked me up around the waist using his thumb and index finger and brought me up to his face. “Time to be eaten little thing.” Holding me, he walked around the table and sat on it, in front of Andrew. Laying me flat on the palm of his hand held me out towards Andrew. Andrew picked me up and quickly stuck me; head first, half way into his mouth. Closing his mouth around me he started to suck on me, his huge tongue sliding all around my head and chest. Just as I thought I could breath no more, he pulled me out and put me, legs first, into Steven’s open mouth. Steven’s lips closed around me and his massive teeth held me firm. Now that the saliva from Andrew’s mouth had started to clear from my face I could see that Andrew was smiling at me as I bucked and squirmed, held fast in Steven’s teeth.
Andrew’s face came towards Steven’s and as it did he opened his mouth and I was once again plunged into the warm cavern of Andrew’s mouth. This time my lower half was in Steven’s. The pain of being bit in two was almost unbearable. I had no idea which one of them bit first or whether they did it together. The last thing that I was aware of was my entire upper body falling forward towards Andrew’s open throat and awaiting digestive system.
The sun streamed in through the window onto Andrew’s face as he lay there on Steven’s bed. Last night had been such a trip. I mean, he thought to himself, who would ever have thought I’d eat another person, yet alone someone I was in love with. Still he comforted himself; Joe would be forever with him, inside, become part of him. Well that would be case except Steven had eaten Joe’s lower half. Steven was digesting part of Joe. For the moment at least.
Andrew got up and walked toward the bathroom. In one hand he carried the shrunken, unconscious body of Steven Jones. That idiot had told him his secret of making people bite size. I guess he’d hoped that it would bring the two of them closer together. He’d been wrong. As soon as Steven had told him Andrew knew he would shrink and eat Steven. He took a piss, still holding Steven in his hand and went back into the bedroom. Lying on the bed he held Steven’s body above his face. Steven was still not conscious. Andrew bit off one of Steven’s arms, chewed and swallowed. Steven woke, instantly, screaming in agony. Biting the other arm off resulted in a lot of pleading and begging. Andrew silenced this by biting Steven’s head off and swallowing it hole. The rest he ate slowly, savouring the taste. Now the circle was complete. Steven had been a bastard and what had just happened was nothing more than natural justice. Andrew stretched out and thought of the men inside him. He rubbed his hairy abdomen and turned over to sleep. Contented.