Vore Thoughts
By: Semibu


Short reflections for small people

‘What’s eating you?’

What is it with you and Thomas? Well, maybe you’re now finding out. Maybe you’re now discovering the terrifying truth about him and the dreadful truth about yourself. It’s quite simple really. You’ve always been jealous of him. He’s younger than you. He’s handsome. He’s popular. Whenever you arrive at work at the same time it’s ‘Hi Thomas! How are you?’ You might just as well be wearing the cloak of invisibility, and at last week’s office barbecue by the pool, you wish you had been wearing the cloak of invisibility. The sun shone, the shirts came off and all eyes turned to you-know-who. ‘Wow, Thomas!’

It was a scene from some gay ‘Wuthering Heights’: The butterflies swarmed. You lusted after him. You wanted him. You hated him. You had abused your position attempting to fulfil your wishes. Alas, your every selfish move to undermine him and make him bow to your authority failed. He was picking up every last grain of respect you were losing. Almost completely eclipsed by his boyish smile and sickeningly perfectly sexy personality, you decided it was time to bring him down to size. He must pay for all those sleepless nights and your hideous misery and dark frustration!

But even in bringing you to your knees in the privacy of that back room, he did so with an apologetic grin. He even ruffled your hair and patted your head as your clothes fell away from your shrinking body. This wasn’t the first time you had yelled out his name, only this time it wasn’t in that coffee-demanding rasp of yours. No. This time it was a confused and rather pitiful squeak as you held back the tears of terror.

How typical of Thomas to sympathise with you as he stooped down and scooped you up in his hands. Many a time you had considered being alone with him in the back room, but in your sordid fantasies it was always you looking down at him. However, the dream had become a nightmare. He was looking down at you and explaining that he’d always suspected your desires. He wasn’t angry. He was flattered. If only you had talked to him. He would have understood. The only problem, though, was not the age difference but the simple fact that Thomas is straight, very straight indeed.

You dared not enquire as to his intentions. You simply begged him not to hurt you. At first you were relieved to hear his soothing, laughing voice explaining that he had no wish to hurt you. He didn’t even want to frighten you. That relief would soon turn sour. He wanted you out of harms way, gone without a trace. Thomas cleared his throat and announced slowly and succinctly that he had though long and hard about this over the months and had decided that the best thing he could do was to…swallow you!

‘Swallow you! Swallow you! Swallow you!’ echoed around your tiny mind. ‘Please!’ you cried in horror, ‘no!’ For the first time ever you sensed an evil about him, a sinister and cruel streak that, prior to meeting you, Thomas had never known existed. He lowered you to his belly button and proclaimed that there was nothing in there except a ravenous appetite for your helpless life. Lost for words, you beheld the muscular expanse you had once so admired from afar. There were eager rumbles from within, an emptiness almost calling your name.

The swift ascent to his gloating smirk left you dizzy. The lips you were certain should one day be yours to kiss and savour were now parting in slow torment. The tongue that you had one day intended to employ for your own pleasures was soon fully extended and pressed against your face and chest. Spluttering against a surge of thick saliva, you called out to him again. He stifled a giggle as the slick taste budded mattress eased you in – a guarantee, as if it were needed, of the long deep sleep awaiting you.

Remember his breath – sweet and hot, certainly no trace of halitosis from lungs so clean and perfect. Remember his pristine teeth, quivering uvular and ample tonsils. Remember how he aligned the arch of his throat in readiness for your dispatch. Remember the drop in air pressure, the suction and consequent darkness. Remember the rush of rippling, all-engulfing flesh as you were hurled mercilessly into a sheer vertical tunnel of remorseless greed.

Make the most of it, there won’t be too much time to think and ponder. Those gentle walls now closing in around you aren’t positioning you for comfort. You are being made ready for digestion. That strange eye-watering smell is the vapour from juices already at work around your legs and waist. Can you feel the tingle? The young man over whom you once drooled has drooled over you. You have fallen prey to a quarry turned predator.

Thomas is now relieving you of vital oxygen and, as you wonder how one so sweet and cute could ever release such a disgusting noise, you struggle, wriggle and writhe. Be grateful. This is his merciful way of sparing you the discomfort of his acids. He returns to the throng. Who would imagine that you’re safely tucked away within the body admired by all? And so to that long deep sleep.

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