Predator: Meet the Boys
By: Tim

Not sure I could really say what part of it I like the best. I've been doing it ever since I was a sophomore in high school and realized I actually could. I was always the biggest guy in class, on the team. Not many guys are going to fare well in a one-on-one against me, and I definitely like kicking ass. Of course, no guy thinks he's going to get swallowed whole by a jock my size, either. I mean, most men get nervous around me because I'm fucking huge. It's just that they don't realize they have good reason to be nervous, because every man smaller than me (which is all of them, as far as I can tell) is food.

Faced with such a vast pool of possible prey, maybe it's the selection that I like the best... going into the gym, slowly lifting the weights, all the while scanning the smorgasboard to find my next meal. I like a smooth muscleboy, preferably wearing a tanktop and shorts (the less clothes, the easier), little body fat. Someone big enough to fill me up, and strong enough to put up a fight... I love it when they fight back.

Yeah, the fight, the struggle....hmm, maybe I prefer the stalking and capture. Watching the guy leave the gym and silently following him through dark streets as he walks back to his apartment, dorm or frat house. Looking at the muscles in his back and shoulders as his arms swing by his side, or the tight muscles bunch in his round glutes with every stride, knowing that he's completely unaware he's being followed... much less that he's about to become food for a huge animal (me). After all, he's a fit, strong guy - he can take care of himself. Or can he? Not when he's grabbed from behind by someone almost twice his size and strength and dragged into the bushes or an alley. Even then, it doesn't register with the prey - why would it? - that he's about to be swallowed and made part of my big body. By the time I'm right behind him, my cock is hard, I'm salivating buckets, and starting to sweat in anticipation of the attack. Then I pounce on him, sometimes grabbing him and dragging him off, or sometimes just forcing him down and pinning him under my weight, bearing down on him to establish dominance and make the swallowing a little easier.

Speaking of that, it could be that it's the massive, rapid infusion of testosterone, growth hormone and lean muscle mass I get from eating a smaller jock that sends me over the top. At first the prey thinks I'm mugging him, and he pleads with me to take his money and let him go. When that gets no response, and he feels my hard cock pressing into his back (I get very excited when I'm about to eat a big meal), then the begging changes to "Please don't fuck me!" Usually I don't, but with the bigger meals I will. I'm turned on anyway from the whole process, and it helps to pound them into submission. When he realizes he's not getting robbed or fucked, or that it's going to be even worse than getting fucked, the prey's instinct kicks in and he just starts struggling and thrashing, trying to get away. There's a point for every single prey when he realizes he's my next meal, that it's his fate to be swallowed whole by a much larger predator.

The experience of actually consuming a guy live and whole... now, that might be the part I like the best. I can't even describe what it does to me except to say that it completely jacks up every part of me. My body goes wild as I unleash all my power, all my concentration on subduing and swallowing a couple hundred pounds of struggling, live meat. I'm sweatin' bullets, drooling uncontrollably to lube the guy up so gravity can take over and pull him down into me; my muscles bulge and strain with the exertion of overpowering my prey as I lift him completely off the ground and shove him hard into my greedy maw; my cock is fully erect and dripping. My mind temporarily goes into some other place. I've done this hundreds of times and I'm still unable to comprehend the whole thing: my mind can't get around the fact that I'm stuffing a whole, live, full-grown man into my gut and he can't do a fucking thing about it, that I'll digest him, absorb his lean mass, his power and energy, and dump the rest in an enormous steaming pile somewhere (another totally satisfying experience). Yeah, I guess I like it all from beginning to end.

I thought I was the only one until I came into the locker room after a scrimmage one time last fall and walked in on our starting linebacker Doug having the backup kicker, Jeff, for lunch. Doug's big - not as big as me, but he's still a good-sized, well built guy and he didn't appear to be having any trouble at all putting Jeff away. He had his back to me and didn't see me until Jeff was all the way in his stomach and he had belched a few times (you always swallow a lot of air with that much food). Then he turned around...and saw me, and his jaw dropped and he just stared. I stared back. I gotta admit, part of me was thinking it would be cool to take him down right there, particularly since I had been thinking of having Jeff myself, but I liked Doug and I was really excited to see that I wasn't the only guy in the world who liked the feeling of a stomach full of athletic male muscle.

After a short silence, I said with a totally straight face, "You fucker! I was gonna have him for dinner tomorrow. Now I'll have to order up a couple of fucking pizzas." We both busted up laughing, and we've been good friends ever since. We ended up renting a house together, and we go out hunting together every so often. Sometimes, if I see a guy I know Doug would like, I'll grab him and bring him home, kick back, and watch my football buddy put away some serious dinner or - and this is something I'd never thought of - stuff his big ass full of struggling prey. Yeah, Doug's cool.

It's pretty easy finding meals. Guys make the mistake of thinking since I'm big and muscular I must be (a) slow and (b) dumb. Really big miscalculation on both counts. Fact is, I'm fast as hell and I like chasing smaller guys. A prey has to be a fucking gazelle to get away from me. Years of athletic training have made me big, strong and quick, and nobody's a match for that, particularly semi-drunk frat boys a little out of shape from too much partying. That's fast food, right there. And of course none of them think they're going to get eaten. They just don't believe it, which just cracks me up.

One time Doug and I went out hunting after a post-game party and found a little college boy walking home in the dark. We nabbed him, took him to the stadium and stood him on one of the goal lines. Cute kid, about 5'9", maybe 140. A quick snack for me. I love showing off for Doug. "Watch this, dude," I said to Doug with an evil snicker. I turned to the kid. "You get a five second head start. After that, if you can get out of the stadium, you're free. But if I catch you, I'm gonna eat you. Ready?" The kid stared blankly. I laughed. "Yeah, I really CAN eat you, and I really WILL eat you, so if you want to try to get away from me, start running. Ready?" I said, more commandingly. Dumb fuck. Here he's got a chance to escape, and he's staring at me like a fucking deer in the headlights. Poor fuck doesn't know what's about to happen to him. "Start running, dumbshit. Run like hell." The kid paused, then took off down the field. "Five.... four.... three.... two.... one." I took off after my prey like a shot. It took me another five seconds to catch up to him and I mashed him to the turf in a full body flying tackle (perfectly executed, I might add). I weighed about twice as much as him and my landing on him must've broken a few bones because he lay there under me, totally flattened and smashed into the grass, without struggling, just moaning, "Uh....uhhhhh...." "I told you I was gonna eat you, motherfucker," I said to him. "Survival of the fittest. I'm the fittest. You're food, and you're my dinner." I grabbed his head and pushed it into my mouth, grunting deep in my throat and drooling all over his neck and shoulders, and then just kept greedily shoving him in, breathing hard through my nose. Fuck, I was totally hard and high off the feeling of power I had eating him whole. He started moaning and wiggled a little, but I knew I had messed him up pretty bad on the tackle because he could barely fight back, and in less than half a minute my stomach was full. Then a couple of loud belches that echoed through the stadium, and it was all over. I looked back at Doug. He was grinning widely and walking toward me, his hand raised in a high five salute. "You're a stud, man," Doug shouted. "I know it," I bragged. I flexed my guns and forced out a really long victory belch, then swaggered down the field towards Doug, rubbing my slightly bulging belly, to smack his upraised palm with my own. Ah, life is good.

Then there's the "dumb" stereotype. That one proved to be the fatal mistake for a cop that figured out that me and Doug were somehow involved in the disappearance of an increasing number of college guys one summer. Too bad for Officer Friendly that I had a buddy on the squad who tipped me off to the fact that the cop was setting up a surveillance of us. As it turned out, the only guy who got set up was the cop - unless you count the guy Doug caught and ate to keep the policeman's attention as I snuck up behind him. I'm sure you can guess how the story went, but I like telling it anyway, so here goes.

Doug and I had been having a great time that summer hunting, capturing and eating prey. We both wanted to put on some weight for football in the fall and that seemed like the obvious way to do it (and the most fun). During the school year we put down an average of a live meal every few weeks, but in the summer with nothing to do but lift weights, fuck whoever we wanted, and eat (and eat, and eat, and eat), our appetites increased - and so did our ability to pack away the food. By the middle of summer, we were both "eating big" (as we liked to call it to distinguish it from the tons of regular food we ate) a couple of times a week, and we'd both doubled the size of the meals we were able to handle. I, being bigger than Doug, could eat bigger prey, and with some practice and patience I got to the point where if I starved myself for a couple of days (that is, only ate regular food) I could even eat a couple of 200-pound gym jocks or frat boys at one sitting with no problem. Once I was able to do it, it really didn't surprise me. I had heard about snakes that could eat lots more than their body weight, and during feeding season polar bears eat hundreds of pounds of seals. Basically, I'm a fan of any huge animal that eats everything in sight. I figure I'm just one of them, only I eat guys, and polar bears don't get sexually aroused when they're eating seals the way I do when I'm eating a jock. That summer, every once in a while I got lucky and would find one really big meal that would last me for a few days, like this one bodybuilder....ah, another story for another time. Ironically, it was my insatiable stomach that got me in trouble with the cops, but this difficulty led to my biggest meal of the summer by far: Officer Kelly. My mouth still waters just thinking about it.

The End