Author Topic: A Cold Dish - FS, O  (Read 1057 times)

Offline Bobbobson

A Cold Dish - FS, O
« on: March 16, 2019, 04:22:11 AM »

A Cold Dish
Written by Bobbobson

"Really? Three people?"


"That's gonna cost you a pretty penny, you do understand that?"

"I promise I can cover every cent. Besides, you aren't the type of person I would want to try to cheat out of his money."

"You got that right. Now, who do you have in mind first?"

"His name is Scott Allan. And I want him gone."

     A shadow slid through a window and into a bedroom of the house at 2100 Eighth Terrace. This shadow's name, his nom de plume, being that of Vesuvio. Vesuvio, despite being a very weighted and muscled man, moved without a sound. He stuck his head out into the hallway. He could hear a TV playing a sitcom from the other room. He followed the sound out into the living room. "I Love Lucy" was playing on the enormous flat screen. Across from the TV sat a leather recliner, in which a man lay, enraptured by the old show.

     Standing behind Scott, Vesuvio grabbed the TV remote from a tray and switched off the television.

     "What in the hell-" Scott began, but stopped and froze when he saw the hulking man behind him in the reflection of the now dark flat screen.

     Vesuvio walked to the front of where Scott was.

     "Mr. Allan, I presume," Vesuvio began, "I've heard some things about you. Things that are a bit rude and perhaps a little criminal."

     "Who...who are..." Scott sputtered out before shouting, "What the fuck are you talking about?"

     "A little birdie told me that you fired him from his job. Now I understand, as you are a businessman, you have to make big boy decisions, but I think this was a poor one."

     Scott began to chuckle. "Oh, lemme guess, Chris sent you?"

     "My employer is none of your concern. My concern is that you fired an employee without reason, and replaced him with your nephew. This employee worked at your company perfectly for 4 years, and you switch him out for a 16 year old."

     The expression on Scott's face turned to one of concern. "I'll give him his job back, just don't hurt my nephew."

     Vesuvio laughed, a hearty guffaw, "Of course not. He's just a child. It isn't his fault his uncle loves nepotism. This is all on your head."

     "Don't do this. Please. I'll pay you twice what Chris pays you I swear." Scott blubbered.

     "I am terribly sorry, Scott, but some of us like to do our jobs correctly."

     Vesuvio pulled Scott out of his chair and onto the ground. He pinned him down with his weight, put a gag in his mouth, and tied his hands with rope. Vesuvio turned Scott onto his back, and taking one finger, ripped off his sweater from his body. He did the same with his pants and underwear.
     "Hmmm. Not much meat on you," Vesuvio said, looking at Scott's naked body. It was quite average. "But, food is food." At this statement, Scott's eyes swelled with tears. Vesuvio paid no attention to him and stood up. He slowly unbuttoned his black shirt, throwing it to the floor. He took off his belt as well, doing the same.

     "Don't want to rip a nice shirt now, do I?" Vesuvio started slyly. Vesuvio took a step towards Scott, his muscles tightening and his stomach bouncing slightly. It had gained a combination of firm muscle and soft fat from his work over the years.

     He lifted Scott off the floor, and took off the gag. "I guess you're getting fired now, aren't you? Right into my stomach." Vesuvio said, and shoved Scott's head into his mouth.

     Vesuvio, holding Scott with one hand, untied the ropes with the other. He loved when prey squirmed and struggled against their fate. He pushed Scott further inside his mouth, up to his chest. He could feel the bulge in his throat where Scott's head was. He seemed to be saying something, more pitiful pleas probably, but Vesuvio couldn't hear nor care. He was hungry.

     Scott's chest and upper arms were the next to enter Vesuvio's mouth. Vesuvio was disappointed. Scott had absolutely no flavor at all. Barely a bit of sweat. He decided to hurry this up, and gulped faster, taking in more of Scott until he got to his crotch. Here, there was a small amount of musk flavor. Vesuvio rubbed his tongue along his dick, hoping for a reaction. There was none. Damn heterosexuals. Vesuvio thought. He swallowed more and more of Scott, and he could feel him beginning to shift around in his stomach, fists pounding against the stomach walls.

     Vesuvio looked at the pair of feet left outside of his lips. With a small slurp, he gulped them down, and felt Scott take residence in his gut completely.

     Vesuvio let out a belch. Urrrp. He patted his gut. It was twice as large now, rippling with the movements from the food inside him. It felt so good, to have another man inside of him completely. It was a feeling he could never say no to.

     "Well, you are quite the squirmer!" Vesuvio exclaimed, "I really appreciate it." Vesuvio picked up Scott's torn shirt from the floor, and sat on the leather recliner. He reached under his gut and grabbed his hard cock, massaging it to the rhythm of Scott's struggles.

     Inside his belly, Scott was kicking up a storm. The air was rancid, and the acid was irritating his skin. He felt a repetitive motion from outside while he squirmed. After a few seconds he could feel a large amount of air rush out of the stomach. Vesuvio was about to burp again. Hurrrrrrrrrp! It was so much louder this time. Scott was getting light headed from a lack of air.

     Vesuvio moaned in pleasure. This man knew how to treat a pred. He felt close to cumming. He put the torn shirt near his cock, and then gave his belly a large slap. All of the air in his stomach came bursting out. BRAAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRP! At the same time, his pulse quickened, and he shot out ropes of cum onto the torn shirt, giving a sigh of pleasure.

     "Well, Scott, how are you holding up?" Vesuvio's gut only burbled softly in reply. "Figures." Vesuvio looked down at his cum rag of a shirt and at Scott's pants and underwear on the floor. "I suppose I shouldn't leave behind any evidence, especially not of my DNA." He grabbed the clothes and the rag, and swallowed them in one gulp.

     The clothes dropped into his stomach, onto Scott's slowly liquefying remains. Vesuvio wiggled his belly around, feeling the body inside breaking down sloshing about. He smiled, and lay down into the recliner, leaning back to sleep. After all, he would need time to break down Scott into nothing but a rich soup on his digestive tract before leaving.

"Two more meals." Vesuvio said to himself, "Chris, they better be as good as Scott here." He closed his eyes, and drifted to sleep to the sounds of digestion.

End of Part One

Please let me know what you thought, about the story or the formatting, anything! This is my first vore story so dont be too harsh haha!

Offline blkbear91

Re: A Cold Dish - FS, O
« Reply #1 on: March 16, 2019, 10:28:34 AM »
I liked it can't wait to see whats next

Offline voreboy111

Re: A Cold Dish - FS, O
« Reply #2 on: March 16, 2019, 10:37:58 AM »
That was great! Thanks for sharing! :)
"Tragedy is when I cut my finger. Comedy is when you fall into an open sewer and die." 

-Mel Brooks

Or into an open mouth ;)

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Offline dodeedo

Re: A Cold Dish - FS, O
« Reply #3 on: March 16, 2019, 06:55:42 PM »
Can’t wait for part 2