mimic-boi

[mimic-boi]

You lean forward on the porch railing, cigarette dangling between your fingers as you survey the street. Your eyes, predatory in nature, can see every detail in the darkened trees, bushes, and mailboxes. Your friend’s night vision however, is not as competent. 

The evening's warm, the kind of night that feels thick with vice and contentment. 

Adding to that; Your belly is still a little heavy from your last feeding. It's barely a bump now—hardly noticeable—but you know it's there. Maybe someone with some discernment would be able to tell, too. Though Most people would think you’re just a bit chubby in the middle. Or bloated for a less sinister reason, than the fact that you ate someone a few days ago and you were still in the process of digesting them. 

But you imagined by tomorrow your gut would be all finished, and there’d be no indication at all that your prey was ever inside you. Feels good now, though. A lingering fullness. You haven’t felt the need to eat all day, you’re already set. 

In this period of resting and digesting, arose the perfect opportunity to socialise. Or more specifically, gossip. 

"You should have seen her," you mutter, flicking ash. "Dressed like she was going to some red carpet event, not a ‘date night’ at Denny’s - on a Tuesday, by the way. Like what the fuck is up with that?"

You pass the cig. Your friend raises an eyebrow, glancing over at you… and down at your… ex...? (does it count if you only went out once?) as they take a drag of their own. “Oh, and I’m sure you would never do anything remotely tacky. Like, I don’t know…eating your date?”

You narrow your eyes at them, "Excuse me?"

"Just saying," they reply, a savoir-faire smile slipping out. "Everyone’s got their flaws. Some people dress a bit extra on a date; others leave with a full belly."

You scoff, the irritation simmering. "What, and you're some saint? You don't even get it." You take your cigarette back and press it to your lips, inhaling sharply (before coughing grossly). "For your information, she practically begged to come back to my place - she knew what she was getting into."

“Uh-huh,” they reply, smiling. “Sure, if that’s how you want to rationalise it.”

“Go to hell.” You turn, crossing your arms, suddenly very aware of the slight curve at your middle. If your digestion hadn’t taken so long, you’d have a flat stomach by now. Maybe it was the dress. You coughed it up only yesterday. 

Was it… tacky to eat your date? You supposed, it was kind of stereotypical, for a pred. 

"Come on," they chuckle. "I mean hey, I’m just telling you how it is. You’re out here, Eating the person who agreed to go out with you. And you’re being picky about her fashion choices? Glass houses, and all that."

You glare at them, but they take your cigarette and blow out a lazy plume of smoke, thoroughly amused at your expense. You simmer in irritation, shifting your weight onto your other foot. 

The silence between you and your friend settles—until your gut cuts in with a deep, rolling gurgle, loud enough to break it.

You flush, hoping your friend doesn’t comment, but they do, laughing, “ I guess she’s not too happy with what you’ve been saying about her. Maybe she wants to give her side of the story.” 

You scowl, folding your arms tighter across your stomach. The sound goes off again, a long groan that practically echoes in the night. Your gut must be pushing your meal along now. But could it not be so loud? Now was not a good time.

"Real mature," you mutter, kicking ash at your feet, trying to ignore the heat prickling in your cheeks. "She’s not saying anything.”

"Those tummy growls seem to say otherwise," your friend teases, tilting their head down at your inflamed middle,  “She seems a little unsettled about this whole ‘formal attire’ critique… 

I mean, I’d think you would come to appreciate her taste by now… all things considered.”

You shoot them an unamused look, but your stomach gives an almost petulant glorp, as if it's agreeing with them. They just laugh, delighted, and lean back on the railing, clearly enjoying your discomfort.

You give your belly a pointed pat. "She's got nothing left to say. Trust me."

But your friend just grins, eyes gleaming with humour as your belly gives another rhythmic groan. "Uh-huh. sure.”

As your friend’s laughter tapers off, you feel an odd little twinge in your stomach. At first, you ignore it, brushing it off as just a slight bit of indigestion, but the feeling only intensifies—an unease right below your ribs. You shift on your feet, putting a hand over your belly, but it doesn’t seem to help.

Your friend looks over to you, their expression switching to concern. “Are you alright there? Sorry, I didn’t mean to upset your stomach.”

You put a hand over your mouth, not knowing what to expect. With a lurch, you spit up something small and metallic, clinking as it lands in your open palm.

It’s a delicate, gold earring, with a little white gem in the centre—one of hers. You stare down at it, your face heating as you remember her fingers brushing over it just last night, laughing as she tucked a strand of blonde hair behind her ear. You didn’t think much of it then.

Your friend peers over, curious. “Well, well. Looks like she left you a little souvenir.” They observe it carefully, and look down at you, “I wonder if the other one is still in there.”

“Shut up,” you mutter, pocketing the earring with a scowl on your face. You press your hand against your stomach again, to gauge whether anything else is thinking about coming back up. 

“Maybe you should remove them first next time,” they suggest, “I hear eating prey with jewellery on can give you indigestion.”

“Helpful.” you mutter through gritted teeth.

[mimic-boi]

been thinkin about those really wholesome stuffing tropes

- caretaking after a huge meal, taking them to up to bed and rubbing their belly till they fall asleep

- real gentle “are you okay?”s while they set a hand on the feedees tummy

- also real gentle tummy kisses. that shit is mmmmm

- an all time fave: feedees falling asleep on their feeder while they rub their overstuffed belly

[mimic-boi]

I love to feel you moving through me.

I love feeling your form slip down my throat as you’re covered in my spit, making you easier to gulp down. I love tracing the bulge you make as you slide deeper, past my lips, down my throat, past my chest…

I love feeling my sphincter open and feel you slip inside of my stomach all excited and thrashing~ I love feeling how turned on inside of me you are~ I love how I feel my stomach flex and press your body, love having you get tired and feel my acid melt you away~ I love feeling you slosh in my gut long after I’ve digested you~

I love feeling you pump deeper and deeper into me~ I love feeling my intestines push you along as villi greedily suck away your nutrition to fuel my actions~ I love feeling your body get added to mine~ I love every part of it~

And of course, I love how you’re eager to do it all over again~

— 👁️

[mimic-boi]

Yea stomach i know you’re digesting food rn you don’t have to be so slutty about it

[mimic-boi]

Prey that’s so touch starved and lonely finally being able to curl up inside the belly of their favorite pred.

They feel so safe and warm and snuggled, wiggling happily against the soft churning walls that pack them in so tight. The prey mewls softly as their beloved rubs them and kneads at them from the outside.

Meanwhile their pred is all cozied up in bed, blissed out, finally happy to have someone inside them that they’ve wanted to put away for quite a while. The human-shaped weight in their gut is settling nicely, sending them into a food coma.

The prey is so overjoyed by the squishing and gurgling of the belly. They nuzzle as deep as they can into the cozy nest— the stomach that rocks them to sleep— and they’re so, so happy to accept this snug haven as their new permanent home… to accept their new purpose in life: as a big bulge on the middle of someone they love so much ❤️

[mimic-boi]

Another commission I think that’s enough girl preds for now tbh I really need to draw some boys. I’m getting off brand.

❤️ ❤️ ❤️ •´°¤ ¸¸.•´°¤ ¸¸.•´°¤ ¸¸.•´°¤ ¸¸.•´°¤ •´°¤ ¸¸.•´°¤ ¸¸.•´°¤ ¸¸.•´°¤ ¸¸.•´°¤

🍰 Please follow my Twitter 🍰

[mimic-boi]

“… love… this is too much.. I can’t…~”

“I’m just taking care of you~ Don’t tell me you’re already full~? Big boys like you need to eat~”

“..Then why do I need to be blindfolded……”

“Because~ it heightens your senses~!

Like taste…

Smell…

Touch..~”

A delicate hand grazes over his middle, the contact soft enough to make him flinch, yet mewl in her grasp…

“Who knows? I might throw in something special for you later, if you keep being so good for me~”

[mimic-boi]

I bet you can't guess what happened next. And no, we didn't play board games.

[mimic-boi]

some lazy belly doodles

[mimic-boi]

Saw youre kinda into vore and just to say I'd totally donate myself to be eaten to aid in your getting fatter 😳

Your offering is accepted. 🤤

[mimic-boi]

Look what I’ve done to myself.. who let me go out like this

[mimic-boi]

🔥 monday night treat for you horny mutuals and followers 🔥

[mimic-boi]

I know I posted this on the 🌶 site but I was too proud of the fact that I figured out how to record my tummy sounds soooo enjoy it hehe you can even hear me burp but from within my belly 🐖 makes me really feel like a piggy

[mimic-boi]

@couchqueenie

I completely agree with your sentiment.

[mimic-boi]

@pizzaslut444

[mimic-boi]

Pinkyrosagiantess vore squirming morph

[mimic-boi]

I jiggle when I bounce 💞