solitarycenturionmatrix

[solitarycenturionmatrix]

It was just me and Ethan on the track now, everyone having long since finished their workouts and gone home. I’d just finished my cool down lap and was stretching when he finished his final lap and leaned against the railing of the track. We were both sweaty and exhausted, having run farther than we’d ever done before. Finishing my stretches, I was about to stand up when I heard Ethan say:

“Hey dude, I wanna keep going for a while longer, but I’m drained. I hate to ask, but do you think you could help me out and give me a little energy boost?”

I looked up, confused and saw that he’d lowered his shorts a bit, exposing his ass to me. Instantly in knew what he was asking, but couldn’t believe he was asking it of ME! I’ve always known what Ethan could do, but being swallowed by Ethan’s ass was like a car accident or being diagnosed with a deadly disease; it was always something that happened to other, nameless and anonymous people, never to you.

But here I was, mere feet away from the ravenous ass that’s taken so many guys before, guys who’ve disappeared between those muscular cheeks and never come back out again. And now my friend was actually requesting that I make the same, deadly trip?! WILLINGLY?!!

“Y-you can’t be serious… Are you?!” I asked incredulously, half expecting him to laugh, tug up his shorts, and assure me that he’d never to that to me. But he didn’t.

Instead, he bent further over the railing, displaying those muscular mounds even more for me to see.

“Yeah I am dude. I mean, I’m not going to force you, but I’d REALLY appreciate it.” He said, turning his head to look at me and smile hopefully. “C'mon at least come over here and look at it, get a closer look and imagine how good it’ll sliding into me and letting everything go.”

The words “no way” were on the edge of my lips. He couldn’t really expect me to give my life and let his ass devour me just so he could run s few extra laps right!? I was about to refuse when I noticed a scent in the air. It was Ethan’s familiar, musky, sweaty scent that wafted off of him every time we worked out. This time though it was much stronger, the smell drifting to my nose. There was something slightly different to the scent than usual, something sweet and enticing. I inhaled deeply filling my lungs with it, and a fog of desire clouded my mind. I reached down and stroked my cock, which had quickly risen to attention.

Vaguely in the back of my mind I wondered when I’d taken off my shorts, leaving myself completely naked (I’d been working out shirtless), but that thought was gone as quickly as it had come the second my eyes zeroed in on Ethan’s ass. Surely just a look at it wouldn’t hurt. I definitely wouldn’t agree to letting him take me, but hopefully I’d get a good grope of that ass before I told him no.

In a daze I stumbled over to him, dropping to my knees so that his smooth asscheeks were directly in front of my face. My breath quickened as I tentatively reached out a hand and brushed it lightly against his right cheek. We both let out soft groans simultaneously. This close, Ethan’s scent was overwhelming, flooding my senses driving by into a lust filled craze like I’d never felt before. My hardon ached, begging for attention, but my hands were busy groping over Ethan’s amazing ass, and I gazed in wonder at it, cursing myself for never realizing how beautiful it was sooner.

I continued to squeeze and massage his muscular cheeks before eagerly prying them apart, revealing his pulsing, twitching hole that seemed to beckon me closer. I obliged, burying my face between his asscheeks. Somewhere in my feverish mind, a voice told me this was a very dangerous place to be, but I ignored it. After all, how could something as wonderful as Ethan’s ass be bad? So I stayed where I was, my head wedged deep into my friends ass, my tongue plunging into that hole of his, each time it seemed more and more reluctant to let my tongue slide back out.

At first I didn’t notice the pressure on the back of my head, my sole focus being in pressing my face deeper between those muscular mounds of his. Only when the pressure increased did I notice. I felt fingers in my hair, a palm against my scalp, and a steady push, forcing my face to press against his hole. Still I continued to kiss and lick at that twitching hole of his, completely lost in my lust and not caring that it was no longer clenching lightly on my tongue, but opening up, spreading over my face as that steady hand guided my head deeper.

As my face slid into the soft, warm wetness of Ethan’s ass, I moaned in ecstasy. I was faintly aware that I should be struggling and shouting, telling my friend to stop, but I couldn’t- no, I wouldn’t. This felt too damn good to end. My cock was leaking pre-cum like a faucet and all I could think about was how good it would feel once I was all the way inside. I imagined slowly drifting off, surrounded by the warm, pillowy walls of Ethan’s insides.

I didn’t even notice when his hand withdrew from my head as his ass engulfed it completely and he sat back, forcing himself down and his elastic hole stretching over my shoulders, gravity allowing him to quickly take in my chest and abs. I panted into the sweltering heat of his insides as he stood up, my entire upper body swallowed up by his ass. Then the walls pulsed around me and my waist was pulled into him. I moaned in pure ecstasy as those slippery, wet walls squeezed over my aching cock, giving it the attention it had craved throughout this entire ordeal.

One ripple of slimy, warm muscled was all it took for my member to erupt, painting the inside of Ethan’s ass white as I shot rope after rope of hot cum and I writhed in total and absolute pleasure, all the while that ass squeezing and pulling more of me inside. When I finally came down from my sexual high, all that felt the cooler air outside were my ankles and feet. I was still in a daze of pleasure as I felt my friends hand on my feet. I knew what he was about to do; suck the last of me in and seal my fate. I didn’t care. Even as I felt him do just that, I wasn’t afraid. I could feel his muscular asscheeks on either side of my feet, squeezing lightly as if to say goodbye before that final clench that dragged me entirely into his ass, that hungry hole of his sealing tightly behind me.

I went completely limp, exhausted from the whole ordeal, completely drenched in a combination of sweat, cum, and whatever fluids that lubricated the slick tunnel I was encased in. Meanwhile the walls around me rippled and squeezed, pulling me ever deeper into my friend.

I didn’t notice when I stopped moving, but at some point the muscular waves ceased to pull me deeper, and instead were replaced by periodic, universal contractions from all sides, holding me firmly in place. It was then that the fog began to lift from my mind, allowing me to come to my senses. It was a slow process though, and for a couple minutes I just lay there in a loopy, happy daze, still enjoying the sensations around me. My thoughts became rational again, and mentally, I knew what had happened to me was a very bad thing, but my emotions it seemed, weren’t entirely my own again yet. The after effects of whatever intoxicating pheromones had wafted off Ethan were still holding me in a calm, docile state, free of fear or anger. I was content to lay there, completely okay with drifting off to sleep and let his ass claim me.

I could have done just that too, if a sudden and intense heat hadn’t jolted me back to my senses, forcing the last of the fog from my head. It felt like I was trapped in a sauna with the heat cranked higher than it should ever be. Sweat dripped from my body, intermingling with the thick liquid that oozed from the walls around me.

Dread and horror dawned on me as my mind became fully mine again and i became truly aware of my situation. In my lust filled craze I’d actually allowed my friend to devour me alive, hadn’t even fought or struggled as he’d pressed my head into his hungry ass and it opened up to swallow me whole.

Scream. Struggle. Beg for release. All things I should have done in the first place, but I was only thinking of now. I was about to do all three simultaneously when suddenly I was violently squeezed in a crushing embrace that forced nearly all the breath out of me. The walls of Ethan’s insides had stopped their light squeezing and had clamped down on me in a vice-like grip, pressing from all sides as if trying to crush me.

That’s when the tingling started, almost pleasant at first, but then became more intense, like a million tiny ants crawling over me. With a sudden and terrifying realization, I knew what was happening. Ethan was starting to digest me. As if on cue, the tingling gave way to an itching sensation, and then a burning like fire across my skin. I screamed and writhed now, or at least as well as I could when I was being crushed from all sides by his powerful internal muscles.

It hurt. It really hurt, the feeling somewhere between average level pain and agony, but what did I expect from being digested? I’d never thought it would be like this, never imagined that this was what all those unfortunate guys who’d disappeared into Ethan’s ass went through. Truthfully I never gave much thought to what happened to them; they would slip into Ethan’s ass and they���d be gone, that was it. If anything, I’d just figured that they would pass out before any of the unpleasant stuff happened.

Oh how wrong I’d been though, as I was now experiencing everything all the others had. The trip into Ethan’s ass was hot and intimate, the sensations of sliding into that hole so incredibly pleasant. Hell, if it weren’t a one way trip, I’d probably ask to do it again. But it was a one way trip, as I was now painfully aware of. The actual digestion was the polar opposite though; overheated, crushed, and burned by digestive juices. It was almost over though, I thought hopefully as my mind clouded over again, this time from the lack of oxygen rather than hypnotic, intoxicating scents. The pain faded away as I mercifully lost consciousness.

Ethan pulled up his pants and grinned feeling his buddy go still and fresh energy rush throughout his body. He didn’t usually make a habit of taking friends up his ass, but he was just short of his distance goal and he had to be ready for the meet on Saturday. Plus it would’ve been more effort to go find some random guy to stuff up his ass than it was to just take his friend who was conveniently right there. He wouldn’t lose too much sleep over it, he had plenty of friends, but only one shot at breaking this record. He wasn’t going to waste that chance just because it wasn’t very nice to swallow his friend with his ass and digest him. Besides, he’d seemed to enjoy the trip, at least until digestion set in that is. Shrugging a bit, Ethan tightened his shoe laces and began to run again, putting the energy his friend had given him to good use.

[solitarycenturionmatrix]

Chorizo!

Work, errands , the gym it was exhausting but it's over now. Just one thing was left for it to be a complete day. A XXL burrito from Esteban's favorite truck would complete his day with a bang. An XXL Beef and bean burrito with Chorizo and hot sauce. A flavorful experience that filled his stomach and made the whole day worth it.

15 mins later and a lick of his fingers Esteban was done and ready to knock out.

Slowly walking into the lobby of his apartment building instinctually pulling down his pants, revealing his phat ass in his grey boxers. Each step jiggling cheeks stretching his boxers to the limit leaving nothing to the imagination. Not paying attention he walked into a group of people waiting for the elevator.

Annoyed, sweaty and too groggy to walk up the stairs he waited with them. The doors opened and everyone piled in Esteban being the last. The building was old, the elevator made its slow ascent, creaking as it goes.

gurgle

That burrito is making its way out.

rumble

The others in the elevator look forward at Esteban, the rumbles of his stomach very audible to them. “Ugh”

pprffttttt.

A small poot escaped out of him, It was small but strong, the putrid smell filling the enclosed space. The people yell , and curse at him for his expulsion. With an angry expression Esteban looks over his shoulder at the crowd, “Fuck It!”

BBBBBBBBBRRRRPTTTTTTTTTTTPPPPPPPPTTRRTBRTBRTPTTPT.

A loud deadly explosion ran out in the elevator, filling the metal box with greenish, brown gas. It was toxic, it had some people coughing, some gagging and others falling to the ground gasping for air. It was hot , the mix of his sweat swamp ass, with bean and cheese created the most destructive storm.

“You think I’m done?” Esteban says grabbing the closest person and pressing their head against his ass. *grunt*

BRRtttPpPTtTttTTTTT

A sizable blast left his ass straight into the mouth and nose of his victum mostly muffled until his victim couldn’t hold contain any more.

Letting go of their head as their body falls tot the floor. The other occupants through tears and gags fearing what he may do next.

PpppPrRrrRRRRTTbbBbBbbbbbBBBTTPPTRTTTT

Another giant blast left his boxers burned down the middle exposing his bare crack. The elevator's slow ascent came to a halt, stuck between floors. Esteban touching the emergency button alerting the building manager of the malfunction.

”It’ll take at least an hour to get someone to fix it. Stay put!” The manager said through the speaker.

The occupants scared, not sure if they’ll survive that long.

“Too bad for y'all there's plenty more where that came from. Hope you survive.”

[solitarycenturionmatrix]

I couldn’t believe what I was seeing as I looked down from the balcony that overlooked the front entryway of the church. When I saw what was happening, I quickly crouched down to hide myself so that I was now looking through the rails of the balcony. I wasn’t even supposed to be out here, should have been inside the chapel with the rest of our family and friends waiting for first the groom and his best man to enter and walk to the front of the church, and then the bride, my sister, to come in so the wedding could commence.

But I’d forgotten my camera outside in my car, so I’d quickly made my way up the stairs to a door that led to the balcony overlooking the entryway. I could’ve just gone through the door that led out into the entryway that everyone had entered earlier, but I didn’t want to make a scene since everyone was already sitting down in the pews and it would be awkward getting up from my spot and walking all the way back there, so I opted to take a round about way by heading up to the balcony and going down the stairs out there to get outside.

That’s when I saw this: my brother-in-law to be, David, bent over with his nice dress pants pulled down exposing his ass to his best man, who was bringing his face closer to it. My eyes widened in shock as he buried his face in my sister’s fiancee’s ass, letting out a happy moan while David stifled a groan of his own. I watched with mounting anger as the man my sister loved was rimmed by his best man ON HIS WEDDING DAY of all days! That bastard, how dare he do this to my sweet sister, fucking another man just minutes before he’s to be married to her!

I was about to storm down the stairs in fury and start yelling when, as I stared down from my perch, David reached a hand back, pressing it against his best mans head, and pushed hard. I heard a muffled yelp from the the other man and watched in horror and shock as the best man’s head disappeared into my soon to be brother-in-laws ass. I covered my mouth to stop a gasp from escaping as I watched David lean back and his best man’s shoulders slid into him as well. I could just make out the man’s muffled screams as he thrashed about.

As David’s hungry ass slid down his friends chest and stomach, it finally hit me what was happening. My brother-in-law to be was swallowing his best man with his ass, suit and all!!! My brain was screaming at me to do several different things at once; the major ones being to run away screaming back into the church, to go down these stairs and try to help the man currently being devoured by my sister’s fiancee’s ass. I did none of those things though as I stared, frozen in shock and morbid fascination as David’s best man, who as far as I knew, was his best friend, slid more and more into his ass, kicking and shouting within him.

When the man’s feet slipped between David’s meaty asscheeks, his shiny black dress shoes were forced off and dropped to the floor with a clatter. Then he was gone. The groom stood up, tugging up his pants and buttoning them again and rubbing a loving hand over his astonishingly still flat abdomen.

“Sorry man, but I had to do it. You saw how much I was freaking out, and swallowing a guy always gives me a rush of confidence and power and I REALLY need that right now. Thanks dude, you saved the wedding” Somehow I doubted his best man was comforted by his words. I didn’t know what to do now. I’d just witnessed the man who would soon be my brother in law devour his best man with his ass, whole and alive. He was probably still alive in there too, and yet I was still crouching there, peering down through the railing bars of the balcony and watching as David adjusted his suit and grabbed his best man’s fallen shoes, discarding them in the trash a few feet away. I really should have gone back into the chapel.

That was when my phone buzzed. It was on silent, but the sound of the vibration in the practically silent entryway of the church was loud enough for the groom to hear. I watched in horror as he glanced up, his eyes meeting mine and widening in recognition as he saw me. Shit.

I stood up, fully intending to run back into the church full of people to safety. But in the long minutes I’d been crouching there, my legs had fallen asleep and gone stiff. As I stood, my jelly-like legs gave out and I tumbled backwards, away from the door that would be my salvation.

Instead I dropped, rolling down the stairs I’d been perched at the top of and striking my head on the floor at the bottom with a loud crack. My vision blurred and stars dotted my sight as I lay there on my back on the cold tiled floor. I groaned, closing my eyes for a moment until the world stopped spinning. When I opened them again, my vision was clear, but what I saw caused my heart to skip a beat; my sisters fiancé was standing over me, fingers working to undo his pants with a somber, regretful expression on his face.

“Oh Tristan…” he said almost sadly, shaking his head. “I really wish you hadn’t seen that.”

Then he turned away from me and I heard the sound of his pants dropping to the floor. I only had a moment to process what he was doing before his ass appeared above me, flooding my vision as it descended onto my face. I didn’t even have time to scream before my head plunged into his ass, silencing any protest as I followed the groom’s best man into his ravenous ass

[solitarycenturionmatrix]

Class Project

I was always pretty good at biology, but since studying it at university I’d grown to love it. Things had been going so well both in class and outside, I’d been getting new grades and making new friends.

This week, we were studying the human body, and our professor had put us all with random partners for a group project. I was paired up with Sean, a handsome athletic guy who had a cute smile and just radiated sex appeal. His muscles would often bulge through his tight shirts and his ass always looked amazing in his trousers, looking plump but firm.

Each group was given a different area of the body to work on, we were supposed to do research and present our findings after the weekend. Sean and I were given the digestive system, not what I would’ve picked but it could’ve been worse. Sean and I arranged to meet at his place that night so we could work on it.

I arrived at his flat and he invited me in. It was pretty clean for a guy who lived alone, and I was pretty stoked to be there as I knew he was gay so maybe something else could happen. “So I was kind of thinking that we look at some studies and maybe try and get the intro done tonight and carry on tomorrow?” I said. “Well, I was actually thinking the best way to study the digestive system was up close and personal” he said, with a sly grin.

Before I could reply he lunged forward at me and pushed me onto the bed. At first I figured he was horny and wanted to get some action, so I played ball and leaned in for a kiss. I was quickly corrected when instead of kissing me, he licked my face from my chin to my forehead, lathering it up with saliva. I was stunned for a moment as I processed what was happening to me. “What’s the matter?” Sean asked, laughing. “Everyone knows the digestive process begins when your food touches your tongue!”

Without warning he moved his face closer to me and let out a warm, slimy belch. “BOUUUUUUUUURP!” Spit shot out of his mouth as the noisy burp rang in my ears, smelling strongly of beer and pretzels. “Dude what the fuck?!” I yelled at him. “Get your hands off me!” I tried to pull away but Sean was gripping my shoulders too tight so I could hardly move at all.

“What’s the matter? Don’t like the first hand experience?” Sean laughed, clearly enjoying my struggles. He lapped my face again with his wet, slimy tongue before letting out another strong OUUUUUUUURP! “There’s more of this where you’re going, don’t you worry!” He said, smiling maliciously at me. “What are you talking about?!” I asked, still trying to wriggle free from his arms. Sean just patted his torso and winked. “You’re going in here!” He laughed. “Although you’re taking the back door entrance.”

With that, he turned around and showed off his round, thick butt. “I figured that everyone knows how the front end works, maybe it’ll bump my grade up if I think outside the box and send food up the other way!” He said, looking down at me from behind. “Plus I’d much rather you get to look at the more important parts of my system before I digest you!”

Before I could protest he pulled his underwear down and exposed his bare ass in front of me. Sean then slammed his ass down onto my face, landing on me with a heavy thud. I tried to scream but my mouth was covered by the mounds of ass I was trapped under. “What’s that bro? I can’t hear you! I’ll just assume you’re saying how much you’re enjoying yourself!” I heard Sean say, laughing.

After a few seconds I felt the impossible. His hole began to stretch over my face, practically engulfing it. After a few seconds I felt my head begin to sink into Sean’s ass and he let go of the back of my head, letting his hole do the job. I tried to pull away but his hole’s grip was too tight, unwilling to give up it’s prize for anything. While I continued to be pulled in (with my entire head now engulfed) I felt Sean’s arm moving up and down, paired with moans of pleasure. He was fucking masturbating!

“I know we weren’t doing the reproductive system but I figured I’d get some enjoyment out of it anyway” he said, moaning in ecstacy. It didn’t last too long though, as soon as my head collided with his prostate he let out a roar of pleasure and I assumed his business was done. Not that I could see, obviously, I was too busy getting shoved up his juicy ass.

Things were dark and slimy as I got pulled further in, his ass squeezed and stretched around me to accommodate my body. By now I was up to my chest and showed no signs of stopping. Sean would clench his cheeks every now and then to increase the suction and speed the process up. Pretty soon my own ass had disappeared inside Sean’s, I desperately let out muffled screams and trashed for my life but nothing was helping. Sean’s ass was so tight that I could barely move my upper body anymore.

Moments later only my feet were left wiggling outside Sean’s hole. I felt him clench his ass cheeks and they were swiftly sucked up too, trapping me inside his body. “So are you gonna tell me what it’s like in there or am I supposed to guess?” I heard him say outside. “What are you talking about? Just let me out!” I yelled inside him as I travelled further up his rectum. “No can do buddy. But I still want to get a good grade on this assignment, so just tell me what it’s like from your perspective and things will go smoothly.” “No way am I helping you!” I shouted, my voice still pretty muffled; I wasn’t prepared to help someone who was threatening to digest me into ass fat. 

Sean didn’t say anything, he just flexed his ass muscles. Immediately the tight chamber I was being held in constricted around me, crushing my body. I let out a wince of pain as his ass tightened over my weak form. “If you don’t want any more of that you’ll stop fucking whining and tell me!” He growled. “Or don’t, either way I get enjoyment out of feeling you squirm down there!”

“Ok fine!” I set, giving in. “It’s strangely wet and slimy, and I feel like I’m being pushed further into your body.” “Yeah that’s normal, you’ll just go up into my stomach rather than fall down into it. This always keeps my ass nice and juicy.” He said, slapping his bubbly cheeks and making me tremble.

“What about the sounds, hear anything interesting in there little man?” He asked. “Your body rumbles a lot.” I replied, feeling miserable at how that was probably him getting ready to digest me alive. “Yeah, getting ready to churn it’s food once you’re in my stomach” he said, slapping his belly, which I could feel getting nearer as every second passed.

From then it took less than a minute for me to complete my journey to Sean’s stomach. I broke through the bottom and was briefly submerged in a pool of acid while I was pushed up into his belly, making my face sting. Once I was in there I could immediately feel his body kick in and start to break me down. “What’s the stomach like dude?” He asked curiously. “Hot, sweaty and slimy, and it smells like acid and burnt food too. I hate it in here, can’t you just let me out?” I asked, my skin was already starting to break out in red spots as acid was spewed all over me.

“No way! Do you just let out a prime steak once it’s in your stomach? No, you let your body claim it. And I’m letting mine claim you!” Sean was busy rubbing his large gut with me inside it. His stomach was so tight that I had no space to myself, my face was forced up against the walls of my fleshy prison. Once his hand brushed past it he stopped and gave it a squeeze, feeling me up. “Damn I can practically see the outline of your cute little face on my belly!” He laughed, poking and prodding me. “You don’t look too happy in there, but don’t worry you won’t have a face once you’re digested so you don’t have think about how you’ll look anymore!”

A few hours went by and things were getting really unpleasant. My body felt so weak and Sean’s stomach only threw more digestive juices into it’s living prize. Sean gave his belly a slap, which to me felt like I’d been thrown against a brick wall. “I’ve got some more questions for you little man, I really want to study how the body treats its food, so I was wondering what you looked like down there?” He asked, before letting out a noisy, wet BWAAAAAAAARP!

“My skin’s red, my clothes are pretty much gone and my hands and feet look like they’re starting to melt” I moaned, my voice hoarse, I didn’t protest in case he decided to punish me again. “Nice dude, this’ll really get me a good grade!” I could feel him fondling his belly again, pinching and squeezing my weak form. I could feel every agonizing squeeze as my predator played with his belly, my body ready to fall apart. He clearly couldn’t tell how weak I was as he was making my skin burn and my bones crunch inside me. I tried to say something, but then he gave one final, powerful squeeze of his thick belly and I immediately lost consciousness.

Outside, Sean felt my body finally fall apart and collapse into his stomach acid. “Whoops!” He said, giggling a little as he felt me die inside him. This didn’t stop him playing with his belly. He took great pleasure in feeling what was left of my body crunch and turn to mush as his body got ready to digest my remains. He stood up at his desk where he’d been writing his findings and took a look at his ass. “Damn, shoving them up there always makes it so big!” He said to himself. “You really added a lot there buddy!” He said triumphantly while my corpse floated inside him. “Plus I should ace this assignment as well! I’ll just tell the professor that you never showed up so I decided to do it on my own. Maybe he’ll give me extra credit for working without a partner too!”

[solitarycenturionmatrix]

Physical Examination

Kane was at the doctor's office. His asshole had been stinging like a motherfucker for the last few days and he finally decided he'd get it checked out, in case he'd seriously damaged it. He didn't plan on telling the doctor he'd hurt it by shoving three people in one day up his ass because he was hungry, if he asked he was just going to say he was a fan of large dildos.

He'd been there about 20 minutes and things were going smoothly. Dr Clarke had asked some pretty awkward questions but nothing that would expose Kane's anal predatory nature. He didn't know where his gift came from but all he knew was that his ass was usually starving, and needed a man up there to keep it full.

"Yeah your hole is probably just overworked, give it some time to rest and it should be back to normal in a few more days. I'll prescribe some painkillers in the meantime" the doc said, reaching for his notebook.

"Fuck" Kane thought to himself. He would've stocked up on a fresh guy if he knew he'd have to wait a few days. "Thanks doc" he said, trying not to sound too annoyed.

"I'll take a quick look down there just to make sure it all looks in order before you head off" Clarke said while putting a pair of gloves on. This sparked a glimmer of happiness inside Kane. The good doctor wasn't that big, a short but skinny guy in his late 20s, so Kane figured he wouldn't put too much strain on his fragile hole. He'd certainly sucked bigger guys up his ass in the past.

Kane stood up and bent over the table, dropping his trousers and exposing his firm, bubbly ass to the doctor. "Well one thing's for sure, you're certainly not running out of ass fat for a good while!" Clarke joked, chuckling a little. He got on his knees and parted Kane's cheeks with his hand, exposing his hungry hole.

"It's a little red, but friction is bound to cause some visual damage" he said, flashing a torch on the hole. He placed a finger on Kane's asshole to make sure there was no swelling and that was when Kane took his moment to pounce. Before Dr Clarke had time to react his finger was pulled into Kane's hole with some force.

"That's funny, I haven't even put vaseline on" he said, feeling his hand sink further in. Kane just smiled.

"Yeah it's naturally pretty open sometimes you don't even need lube, I'd just use your other hand to get it out!" He said, slyly. Clarke complied, placing his other hand on Kane's hole. Instead of pulling his left hand out his right one was also caught by his grip. Kane moaned quietly, the feeling of a man being sucked up his ass never failed to turn him on, no matter how sensitive his hole was.

"Yeah I think that's just made things worse" Clarke said nervously, trying to free his hands, which were now completely consumed by Kane's hole.

"Just try and relax, they should just come out on their own" Kane said from above. The doctor took a deep breath and relaxed his muscles, hoping his hands would just slip out. Little did he know this would make things worse. Kane's ass really shifted into gear, pulling Clarke up to his elbows in seconds. The inside of Kane's ass was surprisingly slimy, able to pull its prey further into his rectum with ease.

"What the fuck? What's wrong with your ass?!" The doctor shouted, panic in his voice as he desperately tried to break free from Kane's voracious grasp.

"There's nothing wrong with it, it's just hungry" he laughed, now audibly moaning as the doctor's arms brushed against his prostate. "NURSE!" He screamed, trying to get somebody's attention. "Oh no you don't!" Kane shouted, slamming his ass forward and consuming Clarke's face. His screams were immediately muffled, as his hole opened further to accommodate the man.

Clarke's head and shoulders were swiftly pulled in by Kane's ass, which increased its suction as his hole got gradually wider. Within a minute of putting his finger on Kane's hole, Clarke had been pulled up to his chest. His legs kicked in midair, trying in vain to grip onto something. Nothing was able to free him from Kane's grasp though, his body was only pulled further into Kane's wet, slimy rectum.

As more of Dr Clarke brushed Kane's prostate he moaned in ecstasy, grabbing his erect cock. It only took a few tugs before he shot a thick, creamy load all over the office carpet. He had to stop himself from screaming with pleasure as to not attract any unwanted attention from nurses or patients outside.

After orgasming Kane let his ass go to town on the doctor, who was now up to his knees. In a few more powerful flexes Clarke's body was completely gone, trapped inside Kane's tight, hungry rectum. "Fuck that felt amazing!" He moaned, pulling up his trousers and laughing as he jiggled his meaty, bubbly cheeks.

"HELP! SOMEBODY GET ME OUT OF HERE!" Clarke screamed. Kane's rectum was tight and boiling, making Clarke's body sweat and rub along the walls of his ass. "Scream all you like, no one can hear you inside my thick ass, all this fat keeps it soundproof, and now you get to add to it!"

"What do you mean add to it? You're gonna let me out right?! You can't just keep me in here I've got a boyfriend waiting for me at home!" Clarke pleaded, hoping the predator would take pity on him. "I can do whatever I like to anyone, I'm a pred and you're my prey, just like a deer doesn't get to tell a wolf what to do!" Kane responded, gleefully fondling his new ass. "Maybe I'll pay your boy a visit and show him where you've gone, it'll be like a little reunion, looks like your home address is here on the table." Kane laughed, moving over to the Doctor's desk.

Clarke tried to respond but Kane just flexed his ass muscles, squeezing and crushing his helpless prey's body before he could speak. The slime dripping down the walls of Kane's ass had started to break down Clarke's body, seeping into his skin and starting to absorb him. "Please, it's starting to sting my skin, I just want to come outside for air!" His voice was full of fear and exhaustion, caused by Kane's ass continuing to squeeze and constrict his skinny body.

Kane just smirked as the man inside his ass begged for his life. Heleft the doctor's office, with Clarke still alive and squirming inside him, he could tell that by now he was too exhausted to scream loud enough to attract attention. He went to the front desk and handed the receptionist the last prescription that Dr Clarke ever wrote before being turned into ass food. The receptionist handed him a bottle of pills from under her desk and Kane left the building.

All the while Clarke tried to shout, but his voice hurt whenever he made a sound. He could feel his bones creaking as Kane's ass continued to crush his body. He walked past several doctors and nurses, a few of them he heard asking where about doctor Clarke had gotten to. Kane just smiled, knowing that he was packed tightly inside his meaty ass, writing in agony as his body continued to digest the doctor. Kane soon reached his car and got in.

As Kane's ass slammed on the front seat of his car he heard a noisy, powerful CRUNCH as Dr Clarke's body finally crumbled under the pressure inside his ass, breaking his bones and immediately knocking him out of consciousness. Kane settled in his seat, feeling his body start to digest Clarke's remains. He smiled as Clarke's corpse was broken down, knowing this would provide his ass with enough food while he rested and let his hole completely recover.

[solitarycenturionmatrix]

A Dangerous Suprise

"Come on man, you know there's no escape, so you might as well get in this ass" your hookup says menacingly. Seconds after you'd both stripped down, the cute guy you met at the bar pushed you down and locked his bedroom door. "Dude what the hell are you talking about? Let me out, this is getting weird" you yell, not quite sure how to react to his exposed ass.

"It's fine man, in a few minutes you won't have to worry, you'll be tightly packed in my ravenous ass" he laughs. Before you can react he grabs you, forcing your naked body to your knees and leaving you face to face with his ass. From a distance it looked hot and thick, but being this close made it seem intimidating, making you feel nervous and uneasy before it.

"Now, just relax and this'll be a lot easier for you, or feel free to squirm, either way you'll be part of this ass pretty soon." Without warning he grabs the back of your head and pushes it in between his pillow-like cheeks. You feel his hole expand and contract as it reacts to your face making contact, still unsure of what's happening.

Seconds later you feel his hole open completely, slowly pulling your face into his ass. You start to panic, pushing frantically against his thick ass cheeks in an attempt to escape his grasp. However, it's all in vain, his juicy ass cheeks are like dough, becomming more difficult to get a grip on the harder you push. By now your head is almost completely inside the voracious stranger's ass, which is hot and musky, burning your throat as you try to breathe.

You feel his ass open further to accommodate your shoulders and chest. As your body gets pulled in deeper the suction of the powerful predator's ass gets stronger, swallowing more of you with ease. By now you're up to your hips, only just realising that you've got a raging boner; the process may be terrifying but the way it feels still manages to get the blood rushing to your cock.

As your dick slips inside the hungry asshole it sends a powerful orgasm throughout your whole body. You can't help but let out a powerful moan into the tight ass before you. Streams of cum leak out of your cock, softening the fleshy walls of the pred's ass, further lubing up your journey into his body. Seconds later all that remain outside are your feet, wriggling frantically as you desperately try to escape the powerful grasp of the ass that's eating you.

Soon you're completely consumed as he sucks your feet up his ass. He gives his thick cheeks a firm slap as you're forced into a ball inside him, causing your whole world to shake and rumble like an earthquake. "Thanks for the free meal man. Feel free to struggle as much as you like while you digest, it always feels amazing."

You try to get comfortable in the tight prison you're stewing in but it's almost impossible, the walls feel like they're closing in on you. You struggle and kick the sticky surface around you, causing your pred's ass to shake and wobble from outside. "God that feels amazing, I wish this bit could last forever" he says, closing his eyes and rubbing his ass to feel the struggles. "Nothing better than a helpless prey fighting for their life inside me. There's no escape though man, face it, you're just meat now for me to digest, pretty soon you'll realise all that fighting is just speeding up your demise!"

The heat starts to rise as you continue to fight in the hopes of finding an escape. You feel your skin bubble as the walls of the ass close in on you, releasing juice to convert you into ass fat. The walls become stickier as they close in on you, your skin merging with them as you're broken down further into sticky ass fat. Finally the heat becomes so intense that you pass out, your eyes closing as a final thought rushes through your mind... "I'm just fat."

From outside the pred feels your struggles end as you're finally knocked unconscious. He takes a look at his new ass, now much thicker and more muscular as it continues to break more of you down. "Damn he did some work to me" he says to himself, admiring his firm cheeks. With that he sat down and put his underwear back on, letting the rest of you digest and get absorbed into his satisfied new bubble butt.

[solitarycenturionmatrix]

Ass Smothering

Content: Anal Vore, Face Sitting, Male Pred, Male Prey, Implied Digestion

Aidan with his full weight and legs spread wide, was sitting on Jason's face, his roommate. Jason's face was ensconced between Aidan's firm ass cheeks, perfectly molded to fit against the contours. The snug black underwear that clung to Aidan's curves framed Jason's features, creating an intimate embrace that was both suffocating and tantalizing.

"Enjoying the view down there, Jase?" Aidan's voice carried a playful edge, the teasing lilt weaving through the air. Jason, caught in the tight grip of Aidan's ass, could only muster a muffled response, his breath hot against the fabric.

Aidan chuckled, the vibrations resonating through Jason's captive face. "You know, Jase, I think your face fits snugly right here. Maybe it's the perfect place for it." He shifted slightly, pressing Jason's features deeper into the embrace of his ass.

Jason groaned, the mixture of pleasure and restriction making his head spin. Aidan's scent, a heady concoction of arousal and masculinity, enveloped him. The room, or whatever was left of it in Jason's hazy awareness, seemed to pulse with desire.

"You can't get enough of this, can you?" Aidan's tone was suggestive, a knowing smirk evident in his voice. His movements were deliberate, a sensuous dance that left Jason yearning for more. "And I thought I was the one who'd be getting a workout"

Despite the predicament, Jason managed a shaky laugh. "This is some workout, Aidan."

"Damn right," Aidan said, letting Jason's face sink even further in his ass crack.

Aidan, grinning mischievously, lifted up for a moment, allowing the snug black underwear to cling enticingly to his thick thighs. The room, now filled with the tantalizing scent of their arousal, seemed to tighten around them, enhancing the already charged atmosphere.

Before Jason could fully register the shift, Aidan settled back down, the pressure of his ass enveloping Jason's face. The soft fabric of the underwear pressed against every contour, molding to the dips and curves beneath.

"There we go, much better, don't you think?" Aidan remarked, the amusement still evident in his voice. His weight descended again, leaving Jason's face smothered, his nose nestled against the fabric-covered bulge.

Jason, feeling the warmth and the gentle weight of Aidan's muscular form, was caught between sensations. He could feel the defined muscles of Aidan's thighs on either side of his face, the softness of the fabric against his skin, and the heat emanating from the encompassing embrace.

Aidan, sensing Jason's struggles, playfully shifted his weight, making sure every part of Jason's face felt the pressure. "You're really enjoying this, aren't you?" Aidan mused, a seductive edge in his voice. "Every inch of your face snugly pressed against me. It's like you were made for this, Jase."

Jason, voice muffled, managed a strained response. "A-Aidan, this is… intense."

"Oh, we're just getting started," Aidan said, a sly tone underscoring his words. With a deliberate move, he lifted himself again, teasingly allowing the underwear to cling to the top of his thighs before pulling it off entirely.

"Now, let's make sure you get the full experience," Aidan declared, the fabric held loosely in his hand as he positioned himself over Jason's face. "No escaping this, Jase. You're going in, whether you want it or not."

Aidan, with deliberate slowness, began the process of swallowing Jason whole, relishing the sensation of his roommate's face being engulfed by his intimate anatomy. The room seemed to pulse with a shared anticipation, every subtle movement heightening the erotic tension.

"Good boy," Aidan murmured, his voice a low hum of satisfaction as the first inch of Jason was enveloped by his tightening entrance. He could feel the gradual stretch, the resistance giving way to an accommodating embrace. It was a dance of pleasure and surrender, a ritual both were willingly partaking in.

Jason, caught between the tight constriction and the heated intimacy, could only offer muffled sounds of acquiescence. The velvety walls of Aidan's passage clung to him, a sensation both snug and surprisingly tender.

With each gradual descent, Aidan adjusted his position, allowing him to savor the delicious sensation of Jason becoming an integral part of him. The teasing dialogue continued, each word a breathy promise of the impending intimacy.

"Feels good, doesn't it?" Aidan teased, the warmth of his voice wrapping around Jason's senses. "Being slowly drawn into me, becoming one. I knew you'd enjoy this, Jase."

As Aidan continued his descent, Jason's upper body was now enclosed within the snug confines of Aidan's anal passage. The world outside seemed to fade, the only reality being the rhythmic pulsing of the muscular walls around him.

Aidan, thoroughly immersed in the intoxicating process, couldn't help but revel in the sensation of claiming Jason entirely. The room resonated with their shared heat, a fusion of desire and fulfillment.

The final moments of the descent arrived, Jason's waist now pressed against Aidan's flexing entrance. The room, once filled with teasing banter, was now a sanctuary of intimate entwining. A final, deliberate swallow, and Jason was entirely enveloped, the tight passage closing around him with a finality that echoed through the room.

"Now, my good boy," Aidan whispered, the words vibrating through the intimate space they now shared. "You're all mine."

Aidan, now fully possessing Jason within him, luxuriated in the intimate aftermath of their shared act. He reclined on the bed, his legs spread wide to accommodate the added weight within his belly. The bulge, a testament to Jason's presence, pressed against Aidan's abdomen, distorting the otherwise taut musculature into a soft curve that hinted at the unique occupant within.

As Jason's muffled protests continued, Aidan remained nonchalant, the steady rhythm of his breathing revealing a sense of tranquility in stark contrast to the turmoil within his belly.

"Hush now, Jase," Aidan murmured, a reassurance that seemed paradoxically soothing and mocking. His hands idly roamed over the stretched skin that contained his consumed roommate, fingers tracing the outline of the bulge with a possessive touch.

"There's no turning back from this, you know," he continued, his tone a silky blend of satisfaction and casual cruelty. "Once you're in, you're mine. Fully and completely. Your struggles are just echoes in my own private chamber."

Aidan's words, accompanied by the rhythmic kneading of his belly, were a declaration of possession, a reminder to Jason that escape was an illusion in the confines of Aidan's anatomy.

The room, still tinged with the residue of their shared passion, seemed to close in around them. Jason's protests, now reduced to muffled whimpers, vibrated through the enclosed space, a desperate symphony that Aidan relished.

Aidan, feeling the subtle squirms within his belly, grinned knowingly. "You know, Jase, I'm quite impressed with your resilience. But hey, you're in there now, and it's cozy as fuck. My thighs pressing into this bulge, that's you, all you, making yourself comfortable. Get used to it because there's no escaping my gut. You're part of me now, and that's just the beginning." His casual, teasing tone belied the intensity of the situation, leaving Jason to contend with the reality of his newfound existence within the belly of his roommate, forever encased in Aidan's dominating embrace.

[solitarycenturionmatrix]

5 posts!

[solitarycenturionmatrix]

FULL OF LIFE.

pairings: nate jacobs x male reader

summary: nate decides to come after maddie's slightly younger brother, which he ultimately succeeds in by using his charm and sexual appeal.

requested by: @jaysreyess - here

warnings: smut, gay slurs, anal sex, unprotected sex, breeding, ass eating (r!receiving), being watched during sex, cheating.

Nate aggressively pushes your head straight into the pillow to keep you quiet. He was conflicted by hearing how loudly you were moaning, it showed how fucking good he was making you feel and that made Nate feel like a faggot. Either side of your asscheeks was one of Nate's thick hands gripping onto a cheek each, holding them wide open so that his tongue can dip in and out of your pulsating asshole. "N-Nate!" You groan out in agonising pleasure as your rock hard cock painfully pulsates as he leaves it alone. He slowly pulls away as your body exudes all its power and drops down against your satin sheets, "mhm" you whimper out as the feeling of him pulling away was all too much as he takes away all the pleasure that you were living for, for the past whole hour that he had spent eating you out.

Nate flips you over and lines up his cock with your hole and he gently thrusts forward and he watches how your cock disappears into your warmth, "nate!" You whimper out in slightly shock as you've never experienced the size of a cock that big. Nate was blessed with a nine inch and graced with a thick cut delicious dick. Your phone has been blowing up for a while, so as he continues to pound back and forth, he picks up your phone as his eyes dart back and forth from the phone to your face. Nate smirks as he picks up the phone, and he doesn't even need to tell his body to move his hips in a rough manner as your tongue drops out and spit runs across it. "Good boy," he mumbles under his breath until he answers one of the many calls and clicks onto face time.

"Hey- WHAT THE FUCK!" you hear the sound of your boyfriend down the end of the phone, you hear how loud he shouts trying to get through to you. You don't even have a second thought about running to take the phone out of Nate's hands as he continues to pound away at you, one thrust at a time. "Y/N! WHAT ARE YOU DOING? " he shouts down the phone, and Nate turns the camera back to himself as he shows your boyfriend him thrusting his cock deep into your asshole, "He's getting fucked by a real man!" Nate groans out in agonising pleasure as he chuckles loudly with each thrust of his cock. Your moans echoe throughout the room, and your boyfriends phone echoes with the sound of another man pleasuring you in an ungodly way.

Nate's one hand gripped onto your hips as he stopped focusing on your boyfriend on the phone, and his eyes travelled down to your asscheeks and he admires the way they jiggle with each thrust of his cock. "Look at how happy he is!" Nate grunts out between thrusts as he turns the camera onto your face as your eyes are fluttered back and your tongue is sticking out as sweat drips down your face and you pant, your body convulsing in pleasure. Nate turns the camera back onto him to notice that your boyfriend had hung up at some point when he wasn't looking, leaving nothing but a message that said, "I'm done." Nate just stares at it for a moment while laughing as he throws your phone to the side, and he grips your hips with both hands, and he begins to pump his cock in and out of you. As he piston fucks you your cock bounces up and down, hitting your stomach and Nate's perfectly sculpted abs.

Nate piston fucks into you, roughly and dominantly which ultimately causes you to shoot your load all over your body. You lean up slightly to watch as your cock spurts out cum and paints your stomach white, hands free. Nate smirks as he watches how pleasure you've become, he fucks into you a couple more times until he shoots thick ropes of his white seed into your asshole. Your eyes widen in pure bliss as you feel your walls contract around his cock as he pumps your stomach full off his seed, "Nate!" You whimper out as he leans down and presses his lips against yours "just..Shh, baby. Enjoy it, " he whispers in your ear as he starts breeding your asshole with a couple of thrusts until he pulls out of you. You whimper slightly at the disconnect until Nate pulls your body close to his and you close your eyes and smile as his cum drips out of your asshole and down your asscheek.

taglist ~ @starboye @mailmango @ghostking4m @kingchaospostsstuff @crispysoup318 @inhumanshadows @its-ares @gayaristocrat @cronasluvr @irlsamcarpenter @lucerothings1 @gaefaeyae @dqrkhold @sluttyhusband

nate jacobs (short)

[solitarycenturionmatrix]

the boy next door

[friends boyfriend] nate jacobs x male reader

summary: an affair between you and maddie's boyfriend has been going on for some time now. you regularly sneak around his house since you're neighbours. you know he only sees you as a 'cum sock' but you don't care.

wc: 1.4k

notes: MDNI, FDNI, dominant nate, submissive reader, degrading, cheating, rough sex, choking, spit, unprotected sex, gay slurs.

You lay down in your bed thinking about how much of a bad friend you are, simply because you've been sleeping with Nate... your bestfriends boyfriend. You couldn't bare face Maddie knowing that she would be able to tell that something was wrong just by the look on your face and how strange your body language would be with her, plus Nate is your neighbour so it's double risky; you can't be caught by Maddie or his parents. It all started in a bathroom, at the New years Eve party, that everyone was at. You were both drunk, and one thing led to another and his cock was buried deep inside your ass giving you the pounding of a lifetime, he didn't even bother to wear a condom. Normally, you'd force whoever you were going to be having sex with to wear a condom but with him... you just didn't care. Your mind went completely numb and blank from just a simple touch from Nate. The majority of people knew that you've had a crush on Nate because of how alarmingly obvious it was, but when he got with Maddie, everyone probably just thought that you'd get over it since you should be happy for her.

You pick up your phone nervously as you prepare yourself to text Maddie and confess everything to her until you stop yourself as a message from Nate pops up. "Come over." is all it says, and you immediately sneak over to his like a lost puppy, Nate has you pracially on a leash, so he knows that he has all the control over you. Once you make it into his room, he stands there in nothing but his boxers revealing his toned muscular body that you love so much, "get naked, fag." Nate grunts out and you immediately begin stripping off naked, "y-yes sir." You mumble out as you reveal your body to him as you gently and seductively pull down your underwear while facing the other way so that your plump ass gets exposed to his first. Nate watches, and he gently bites down on his lower lip as he watches how your hips sway side to side until you step out of your underwear and kicking them to the side turning back round to face Nate, you both walk closer to each other closing the gap that was between the two of you.

Nate wraps his veiny hands around your neck tightening his grip while his other hand travels round to grip the back of your head pulling your hair causing your head to jolt up and look him in the eyes, you stare in his eyes that immediately cause you to fold and become submissive completely under his control. "I love that I'm your secret.... and I can't tell a soul." You mumble out as your hard cock twitches hitting against his rock hard monster of a cock, Nate just smirks and looks down at you "I love how fucking sick you are." He says in a low tone loving how horny and desperate you are for him. You look over at Nate's bedside table where you see his phone lighting up as he's getting a call from none other than Maddie, you gulp slightly but you ultimately decide to ignore it and be all here for your daddy. "You wanna please me?" Nate grunts out with a smirk growing more and more as you slowly nod your head as Nate releases his grip on your neck and hair and you slowly drop down to your knees and you run your hand over Nate's monster cock that is enclosed in his underwear, you grip the hem and slowly pull it down.

Nate's firey red tip that is dripping with pre-cum and quite girthy length is exposed as you pull his boxers down, your mouth is gaped open in shock as you've forgotten how big it is in that small moment with your mouth gaped open Nate pushes his cock into your mouth in a rough manner causing you to gag ever so slightly but you enjoy every moment. Your eyes flutter up to meet with his, Nate continues to bruise your throat as his cock curves downwards with each thrust. Nate runs his hand through your soft hair as his thrusts into your throat become rougher and rougher until you're a gagging, spluttering mess for him. Nate pulls his cock out of your mouth creating a pop sound, his glistening cock revealed to you as you see his spit covered cock right before your own eyes. "Get on the bed... ass up." He grunts out as he gently slaps your cheek, you oblige to his commands as you strip off naked and climb onto his bed, pressing your chest against the bed and keeping your ass up revealing your tight pink asshole. The asshole that he loves so much but won't admit to it, not even to himself.

Nate climbs up on the bed coming up from behind you as he grips his base and slaps it against your hole. "F-Fuck," he mumbles out under his breath as he pushes his thick tip into your asshole feeling your tight muscle ring tighten around him. It slightly loosens once he gets past the ring and into your soft velvet walls that could make any man cum in an instant which is what Nate loves about you so much, that he gets to fuck a man that all men dream about while fucking their girlfriends. Nate leans forward as your muscle ring tightens around his base as he buries himself deep inside of you entirely. He pushes your face against the duvet, using it as leverage to begin thrusting into you at an instant quick pace. "N-Nate!" You whimper out as you feel him constantly hit your sweet spot, "n-ngh!" You whine out until Nate grabs his pre-cum soaked underwear from the side, and he stuffs it in your mouth to keep your quiet, "quiet!" He grunts out as his thrusts become rougher and rougher, and your muffled moans become more frequent, and your eyes flutter back. Nate's phone is constantly being bombarded by messages and phone calls from Maddie, but he ignores it as he's showing you his attention.

Nate's hands spank down against your ass leaving a bright red handprint. He grips your hips and begins to slowly but rougher pound into your asshole but with each thrust, he speeds up faster and faster until your asshole is pounded to a pulp, you adjust your hands and wrap a hand around your cock and you begin pumping your hand back and forth quickly so that you match the rhythm in which Nate is pounding you in, your other hand travels down lower to fondle with your balls. "Fucking slut!" He grunts out as he pounds you faster and harder, with each slap of his groin against your ass to ripple and the sound to echo throughout the room. Nate pulls out and flips you over so that you're lying on your back. He leans on his knees and pulls you up to sit on them as his cock slides into your soft asshole, he fits back in perfectly like a puzzle piece.

You wrap your legs around his waist as he slowly lifts you up and down on his cock in a slow and loving manner which doesn't last long cause the lifts become more rough and aggressive which causes your eyes to flutter back. Nate's hand leaves your waist and he grips it around your throat choking you, "cum for m-me." He whimper and grunts out to you. You begin pumping your hand faster and faster as you feel his cock slip in and out of you in a constant manner, "N-NGH!" You bite down on your lower lip to keep your moan quiet as you come undone all over his abs, the sight of Nate's cum covered abs causes him to speed up fucking into you like you're nothing but a fleshlight to him, one more thrust as well as the tightness of your asshole and Nate's cock is painting your ivory walls white with his thick creamy cum. He stays buried inside you as he continues to pump his load into you. He carefully lays down, making sure to hold you. "So...do you wanna stay the night?" He mumbles out embarrassed that he's even asking you this, you nod your head swiftly, which causes Nate to become slightly defensive "uhm...it's just so we can fuck in the morning...alright!" He says and you just smile and nod, "I'm sure." You whisper to him as you snuggle your head against his bare chest and he slowly closes his eyes as his cock becomes flaccid and slips out of your cum filled hole. You both drift off to sleep in eachothers arms filled and coated in each others cum.

taglist ~ @starboye @mailmango @ghostking4m @kingchaospostsstuff @crispysoup318 @inhumanshadows @its-ares @gayaristocrat @cronasluvr @irlsamcarpenter @lucerothings1 @gaefaeyae @dqrkhold @sluttyhusband @sleep-0-deprived

[solitarycenturionmatrix]

250 likes!

[solitarycenturionmatrix]

Werewolf Appetite

A commission for an anonymous user over on Discord, a long read (~15,000 words) so grab some snacks.

Content: M/M Vore, Oral Vore, Digestion, Multiple Prey, Unwilling Prey, Cruel Pred, Sentient Fat, Permanent Fat, Teen Wolf, Incest, Forced Body Worship

The thick canopy of the forest cast dappled shadows on the forest floor as Tyler, a seasoned hunter with a reputation for ruthlessness, stalked through the undergrowth. His movements were calculated and deliberate, each step cautious yet purposeful. He wore dark camouflage cargo pants that were stained with dirt and grime from countless hours spent in the wilderness. His boots, heavy and sturdy, crunched softly on the fallen leaves beneath him as he moved. A black tactical vest adorned with an array of pockets and pouches hugged his muscular frame, the weight of his arsenal distributed evenly across his torso.

Tyler's face was set in a grim mask of resolution, sweat beading on his brow despite the coolness of the forest. His eyes, sharp and alert, scanned the surrounding foliage for any sign of movement. A thick layer of stubble lined his jaw, evidence of days spent in pursuit of his elusive quarry. Strapped across his back was a sleek crossbow, its polished wood gleaming faintly in the dim light filtering through the trees, a common weapon of choice for werewolf hunters.

Suddenly, a rustle in the underbrush caught Tyler's attention, and he whipped around, his finger tightening on the trigger of his rifle. "I know you're out there, you son of a bitch!" he shouted, his voice echoing through the silent forest. "Show yourself, or I'm fucking shooting you where you stand!"

His heart pounded in his chest as he waited, every muscle in his body tensed and ready for action. The tension in the air was palpable, a silent testament to the deadly game of cat and mouse that was about to unfold. And then, without warning, a figure emerged from the shadows, moving with a speed and grace that belied its size.

It was Peter Hale, his lithe form darting between the trees with the agility of a wild animal. His clothes were simple yet elegant, a fitted henley shirt clinging to his muscular frame and a pair of well-worn jeans hugging his powerful thighs. His hair was tousled and unkempt, the sunlight catching the subtle highlights in its dark strands. And in his eyes burned a fierce intensity, a primal hunger that sent shivers down Tyler's spine.

But before Tyler could react, Peter was upon him, his movements a blur of motion as he deftly dodged the bullets Tyler fired in rapid succession. Each shot rang out like thunder in the stillness of the forest, but Peter moved with a preternatural speed and agility that seemed almost impossible to comprehend. He hoofed between the trees with the grace of a predator on the hunt, his movements fluid and effortless as he closed the distance between them.

Despite his best efforts, Tyler's shots went wide, each bullet finding nothing but empty air as Peter continued to evade his every move. Panic surged through Tyler's veins as he realized that he was no match for the supernatural creature before him. He was just a man, armed with nothing but a gun and his wits, while Peter was something else entirely—a being of raw power and primal instinct, driven by a hunger that Tyler could scarcely comprehend. And as Peter closed in for the kill, Tyler knew that he was truly and utterly fucked.

“We hunt those who hunt us,” Tyler huffed, out of breath as he grabbed his crossbow now that his gun was out of ammo. “We hunt those who hunt us,” He repeated, almost as if he was reassuring himself and reminding himself of all the hunter training he’s successfully gotten through.

As Tyler fumbled with his crossbow, his hands shaking with a mixture of fear and adrenaline, he felt a sudden weight slam into him from behind. With a cry of surprise, he stumbled forward, the crossbow slipping from his grasp and clattering to the forest floor. Before he could react, a pair of strong arms wrapped around his torso, pulling him off balance and sending them both crashing to the ground in a tangle of limbs.

Gasping for breath, Tyler struggled against his unseen assailant, his heart pounding in his chest like a jackhammer. He could feel the hot breath of his attacker on the back of his neck, the scent of earth and pine filling his nostrils as he fought to break free. But whoever—or whatever—it was, they were strong, far stronger than Tyler had ever imagined possible.

"Get off me, you bastard!" Tyler spat, his voice laced with fear and defiance. But Peter only laughed, a low, menacing sound that sent shivers down Tyler's spine.

"You think you can stop me, little hunter?" Peter growled, his grip tightening around Tyler's throat. "Not so tough without your neat little weapons, eh?"

Tyler struggled to speak, his words choked off by Peter's vice-like grip. He clawed at the ground beneath him, desperately searching for something—anything—that he could use to defend himself. But it was no use. Peter was too strong, too fast, too...inhuman.

As Tyler's vision began to swim with black spots, he knew that he was fighting a losing battle. He could feel the strength draining from his limbs, his body growing weak and sluggish as Peter's hold tightened around him.

As Tyler's struggles began to weaken, Peter's grip on him shifted. Instead of tightening further, it loosened slightly, and Tyler felt a strange sensation wash over him. It was like a wave of hunger, raw and primal, crashing over him with such intensity that it stole his breath away.

For a brief, fleeting moment, Peter considered ending Tyler's life then and there, the thought of his blood staining the forest floor sending a thrill of excitement coursing through him. But as he looked down at the helpless hunter beneath him, something else stirred within him; Although his primary goal was to end the lives of anyone involved in the Hale House fire, his predatory werewolf instincts have taken over, irresistibly so.

With a low, guttural growl, Peter leaned down, his lips brushing against the curve of Tyler's neck as he inhaled the heady scent of his fear. The hunger clawed at him from the inside, demanding to be sated, and Peter found himself unable to resist its call. Without another thought, he pressed his lips to Tyler's skin, his tongue flicking out to taste the salty tang of sweat and adrenaline.

Tyler gasped at the sensation, his body tensing beneath Peter's touch as a shiver of adrenaline-filled pleasure through him. He could feel the heat of Peter's mouth against his skin, the rough scrape of his teeth as they grazed his flesh, and a shudder of fear.

As Peter continued to lick and bite at Tyler's neck, his hunger grew more intense, his senses sharpening with each passing moment. His eyes burned with an otherworldly light, their color shifting from deep brown to a piercing shade of blue as his werewolf instincts took hold. His sideburns lengthened, his muscles rippling with newfound strength as he hovered over his prey, his breath hot and heavy against Tyler's skin.

With a low, feral growl, Peter leaned in closer, his lips brushing against Tyler's ear as he whispered words that sent a shiver of dread down Tyler's spine.

"You taste...delicious," Peter murmured, his voice low and dangerous. "I think I'll have you for dinner."

Tyler's eyes widened in horror as he realized what Peter was about to do, but before he could utter a single word of protest, Peter's mouth descended upon him.

As Peter's mouth closed over Tyler's head, he could feel the hunter's hair brushing against his tongue, the salty tang of his sweat mingling with the metallic taste of blood as Peter's teeth grazed against his skin. With a low, guttural growl, Peter swallowed hard, the muscles of his throat contracting as Tyler's head disappeared down his gullet in a single, ravenous gulp.

"What the fuck!" Tyler's muffled voice echoed from deep within Peter's throat, his protests cut off as Peter's esophagus closed around him, sealing him inside the darkness. But despite his frantic struggles, there was no escape for Tyler now, no hope of salvation as he felt himself being pulled inexorably downward into the depths of Peter's belly.

Next came Tyler's shoulders, his clothes tearing and ripping as Peter's jaws stretched impossibly wide to accommodate his prey. With each swallow, Tyler could feel himself being compressed, the pressure mounting as he was forced further and further down into the pit of Peter's stomach. He thrashed and struggled, his fists pounding futilely against the walls of flesh that surrounded him, but it was no use—Peter's grip was too strong, his hunger too overwhelming to be denied.

As Tyler's abdomen disappeared into the darkness, he could feel the acidic burn of Peter's stomach acids beginning to seep into his wounds, the pain shooting through him like a bolt of lightning. He screamed and cursed, his words becoming increasingly muffled as he was swallowed deeper into the abyss, his body contorting and twisting as it was crushed and compressed by the sheer force of Peter's appetite.

As Tyler's thighs disappeared into the darkness of Peter's throat, he let out one final, desperate cry for help, his voice barely a whisper as it was drowned out by the roar of Peter's digestive system. And then, with one final gulp, Tyler's legs vanished from sight, consumed by the darkness within.

For a moment, there was silence, broken only by the sound of Peter's satisfied burp as he settled back on his haunches, his belly swollen and distended from his recent meal. And as he rubbed his hand over his full stomach, feeling the faint movements of Tyler's struggling form within, a satisfied smile curled his lips.

"Delicious," Peter murmured to himself, his voice low and contented. "Absolutely delicious."

Under the cover of darkness, Peter sat beneath the sheltering branches of a tall oak tree, the hunter's crossbow clutched in one hand as he idly played with it. With his other hand, he rubbed his distended belly, feeling the weight of his recent meal pressing against his palm.

As he leaned back against the rough bark of the tree, Peter let out a satisfied burp, the taste of the hunter's flesh still lingering on his tongue. He smirked to himself, realizing just how delicious humans truly were, their succulent flesh providing a tantalizing feast for his insatiable hunger.

Turning his gaze towards the night sky, Peter chuckled softly to himself, his voice carrying on the cool breeze. "Looks like you failed your mission," he taunted, his tone mocking. "Guess that means lots of people are going to end up just like you—swallowed up and digested alive."

As the nights passed in Beacon Hills, California, a sense of unease settled over the small town. Men, one after another, began to disappear without a trace, leaving behind nothing but unanswered questions and fearful whispers among the remaining residents.

Families fretted as their loved ones failed to return home, their absence a glaring absence in the close-knit community. Rumors swirled through the streets, whispered conversations speculating about the mysterious disappearances and the dark shadows lurking in the shadows.

Some claimed it was the work of a deranged serial killer, while others whispered of supernatural forces at play. But no matter the speculation, one thing remained certain: people were vanishing into thin air, leaving no clue as to their whereabouts; Only leaving behind a tangible reminder on Peter’s growing belly as he digested more and more.

"Come on, come on... Shit!" Stiles muttered under his breath as he crouched in front of the door to Peter Hale's penthouse, the thin metal of the hex wrench feeling awkward and unfamiliar in his hand. He glanced around nervously, making sure no one was watching him attempt to pick the lock. It wasn't exactly the most legal activity, but Stiles was desperate for answers.

Lately, he couldn't shake the feeling that something was off about Peter Hale. It wasn't just the way the man had been putting on a bit of weight around his midsection, though that certainly hadn't gone unnoticed by Stiles. It was also the sudden string of disappearances in Beacon Hills, particularly among young men. Stiles had a knack for piecing together clues, and something about Peter's behavior just didn't sit right with him.

Focusing his attention back on the lock, Stiles cursed softly as the hex wrench slipped again. He knew he was taking a risk by breaking into Peter's penthouse, but he couldn't shake the feeling that he was onto something. If he could just find some evidence to connect Peter to the disappearances, maybe he could stop whatever was happening before it was too late.

“Fuck, how difficult is it to get into one old man’s house?” With a determined sigh, Stiles refocused his efforts, his fingers working deftly to maneuver the wrench into the lock. It was slow going, each movement careful and deliberate as he tried to coax the tumblers into place. Sweat beaded on his forehead as he concentrated, the tension in his muscles making his movements slightly shaky.

After what felt like an eternity, Stiles felt a satisfying click beneath his fingers. With a triumphant grin, he twisted the wrench, and to his surprise, the lock gave way with a soft snick. Stiles froze for a moment, his heart pounding in his chest as he listened for any signs that he had been caught.

When no alarms sounded and no footsteps approached, Stiles let out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding. With a quick glance around to make sure the coast was clear, he pushed open the door and slipped inside Peter's penthouse, his heart racing with excitement and anticipation. He was finally going to get some answers.

As Stiles cautiously made his way into Peter Hale's penthouse, he was immediately struck by the decor. The space was adorned with sleek mid-century furniture, each piece carefully selected to create an atmosphere of sophistication and elegance. It was a stark contrast to the chaos that swirled in Stiles' mind as he took in his surroundings.

Navigating through the living room, Stiles couldn't help but notice the meticulous layout of the space. The clean lines of the furniture and the strategically placed accent pieces gave the impression of a well-organized and thoughtfully curated home. But as he moved further into the penthouse, Stiles began to notice something unsettling.

Scattered throughout the rooms were mementos, seemingly random items that appeared out of place among the carefully curated decor. A baseball cap hung on a coat rack in the foyer, a pair of sunglasses sat abandoned on a side table in the living room, and a leather wallet lay forgotten on the kitchen counter. Each item seemed innocuous enough on its own, but as Stiles pieced together the puzzle, a sinking feeling settled in the pit of his stomach.

These were the belongings of Peter's victims, the men who had disappeared without a trace from Beacon Hills. Stiles felt a shiver run down his spine as he realized the significance of what he was seeing. These were not just random items left behind by careless guests; they were mementos, trophies collected by a predator.

As he moved from room to room, Stiles couldn't shake the feeling of unease that settled over him like a heavy cloak. Each item he encountered served as a chilling reminder of the danger that lurked in the shadows of Beacon Hills. And as he paused to take in the scene before him, a sense of dread washed over him like a tidal wave.

"What the hell..." Stiles murmured, his voice barely above a whisper as he surveyed the room. The realization of what he was seeing hit him like a ton of bricks, and he couldn't help but feel a sense of disbelief. How could Peter be capable of something so monstrous? It was a question that lingered in the air, unanswered and ominous.

With a heavy heart, Stiles tore his gaze away from the scene before him and pressed on, his mind racing with questions and fears. He knew he had to find answers, no matter the cost. But as he ventured further into Peter's penthouse, he couldn't shake the feeling that he was walking straight into the jaws of the beast.

As Stiles hurriedly made his way toward the exit, his heart pounding in his chest, he couldn't shake the feeling of unease that gripped him like a vice. Each step felt heavier than the last, his mind racing with questions and fears. How could he have been so blind to the danger that lurked in the shadows of Beacon Hills?

Just as he reached for the doorknob, a voice cut through the silence, freezing him in his tracks. "Leaving so soon, Stiles?" The voice was smooth and taunting, sending a shiver down Stiles' spine.

Stiles turned slowly, his eyes widening in horror as Peter Hale emerged from the shadows, his presence looming like a dark cloud. "Peter," Stiles stammered, his voice trembling with fear. "I-I was just..."

Peter's lips curled into a predatory smirk as he closed the distance between them in a matter of seconds. Before Stiles could react, he found himself pinned against the wall, Peter's bulging belly pressing against him with a force that left him gasping for air.

"Mind your business, Stiles," Peter purred, his voice dripping with malice. "You've done an impressive job of deducing who's behind the disappearances. But curiosity killed the cat, as they say."

Stiles swallowed hard, his anxiety reaching a fever pitch as Peter's words sent a chill down his spine. "Well, I take after my pops," Stiles retorted, his voice laced with sarcasm despite his fear. "He's in law enforcement."

Peter raised an eyebrow, his smirk widening. "Sarcastic, even at a time like this?" he mused, his tone mocking.

Stiles shrugged anxiously, a nervous laugh escaping his lips. "It's all I got, man," he replied, his voice trembling with uncertainty. "Pale skin and a little bit of sarcasm."

As the weight of Peter's gaze bore down on him, Stiles couldn't help but feel a sense of dread settle over him like a heavy cloak. Whatever happened next, he knew one thing for certain: he was in way over his head.

Peter's smirk widened into a sinister grin as he leaned in close, his eyes sufficed with malice. "You know, Stiles," he drawled, his voice dripping with amusement, "I think I'll make an exception for you. I'll take my sweet time digesting you, longer than any of the others. After all, you've been such an entertaining little detective, and it’ll be rude not to give pack members special treatment."

“Y… You what?” Stiles' eyes widened in horror at the realization of what Peter was suggesting. He struggled against the grip of Peter's belly, his heart pounding in his chest. Stiles' mind raced as he frantically searched for a way out of his predicament. How could he have been so foolish to think he could outsmart Peter? The truth was staring him right in the face, and now he was paying the price for his curiosity.

Peter's smirk only widened as he saw the realization dawn in Stiles' eyes. "Ah, I see it now," he taunted, his voice dripping with satisfaction. "You didn't figure out as much as you thought, did you, Stiles? But don't worry, you'll get to experience it firsthand."

"No, no, you can't!" he protested, his voice trembling with fear. "You-you can't just...swallow me whole like that!"

Peter chuckled darkly, the sound sending a chill down Stiles' spine. "Oh, but I can, Stiles," he replied, his tone laced with malice. "And I will. Consider it a...reward for your persistence."

Stiles felt a cold chill run down his spine as the full weight of Peter's words settled over him. He was trapped, at the mercy of a ruthless predator who had no qualms about devouring him whole.

Peter chuckled darkly as he observed Stiles' futile struggles, his enhanced werewolf strength making it effortless to overpower the younger man. With a swift motion, he grabbed Stiles' legs and forced them upward, beginning the process of swallowing him feet-first.

Stiles thrashed and kicked, his fists flailing wildly as he shouted defiantly, "You won't fucking eat me, you hear me? I won't let you!" His voice echoed off the walls of the room, filled with a raw mixture of fear and anger.

But Peter paid little heed to Stiles' protests, his focus solely on the task at hand. With each gulp, he felt Stiles' body slide further down his throat, the sensation both exhilarating and satisfying. He ripped open Stiles' pants, revealing his underwear, and pulled them down to expose his manhood, a wicked grin spreading across his face.

Stiles continued to fight, his struggles growing weaker as he realized the futility of his efforts. "You fucking bastard!" he spat, his voice choked with emotion. "I won't let you do this to me!"

But his words fell on deaf ears as Peter continued to swallow him down, relishing in the feeling of power and control. Stiles' protests grew more muffled with each passing moment, until finally, with one last gulp, he disappeared entirely into Peter's gullet.

Peter smirked triumphantly as he rubbed his distended belly, feeling Stiles' struggles growing weaker with each passing moment. He had claimed another victim, and there was nothing anyone could do to stop him.

Peter paused, relishing in the sensation of Stiles squirming helplessly within his belly. He could feel the young man's struggles growing weaker with each passing moment, his movements becoming more frantic as he realized the inevitability of his fate.

But instead of continuing to swallow him whole, Peter decided to have a bit of fun. With a mischievous glint in his eyes, he focused his attention on Stiles' exposed manhood, stroking and teasing it with a wicked grin as his mouth navigated around his balls and hard shaft.

Stiles gasped in surprise, his eyes widening in disbelief as he felt Peter's touch. "What the hell are you doing?" he demanded, his voice tinged with a mixture of embarrassment and desperation.

Peter merely chuckled darkly in response, his fingers dancing lightly over Stiles' sensitive flesh. "Just enjoying the view, Stiles," he replied casually, his tone dripping with amusement. "After all, it's not every day I get to play with a meal as tasty as you."

Stiles gritted his teeth in frustration, his cheeks flushing with embarrassment as he struggled against the overwhelming sensation of pleasure coursing through his body. "Stop it," he pleaded, his voice barely above a whisper. "Please, just let me go."

But Peter paid no heed to Stiles' protests, his touch paired with the licking of his tongue becoming more insistent as he continued to tease and stroke. Stiles' resistance began to crumble under the onslaught of sensation, his breath coming in ragged gasps as he felt himself growing more and more aroused.

And then, with one final, desperate cry, Stiles succumbed to the overwhelming pleasure, his body trembling as he released his load under Peter's skilled touch. He collapsed against the wall, his muscles trembling with exhaustion as he tried to catch his breath.

Peter smirked triumphantly, his eyes gleaming with satisfaction as he watched Stiles' reaction. "Fucking bitch, enjoyed that didn’t you?" he remarked casually, his tone filled with amusement.

Peter's laughter echoed through the room as he continued to swallow Stiles down, his belly expanding with each gulp until it protruded out like a rounded bulge. With a satisfied smirk, he reached out and cupped Stiles' face in his hand, holding him in place as he leaned in closer, his mouth gaping wide open.

Stiles squirmed and protested, his muffled cries falling on deaf ears as Peter positioned him directly in front of the mirror. With a wicked grin, Peter met Stiles' gaze in the reflection, his eyes glinting with amusement as he slowly lowered his head into his waiting mouth.

Stiles watched in horror as his head disappeared past Peter's lips, the sensation of being swallowed whole overwhelming his senses. He struggled against the tight confines of Peter's throat, his frantic movements only serving to hasten his descent into the depths of the werewolf's belly.

With a final, satisfied gulp, Peter swallowed the last of Stiles down, his throat convulsing around the struggling figure as he disappeared from sight. He leaned back against the wall, his hand resting lightly on his distended belly as he let out a contented burp.

"Fucking delicious," Peter remarked with a smirk, his gaze lingering on his reflection in the mirror. "You're the best I've had yet, Stiles. Shame you won't be around to enjoy it."

Peter chuckled to himself as he stood before the mirror, his hands moving to his distended belly. With a playful smirk, he began to rub and knead the bulging mass, reveling in the sensation of Stiles' struggling form trapped within.

"You really outdid yourself this time, Stiles," Peter mused, his fingers tracing lazy circles over his taut skin. "I'll have to remember to thank you properly for that little release."

As he continued to play with his belly, Peter's gaze drifted to the torn shreds of fabric that had once been Stiles' underwear. With a wicked grin, he plucked them up from the floor and held them up to the light, examining them with amusement.

"These will make a perfect addition to my collection," Peter remarked, his tone filled with dark amusement. "A little memento of our time together, wouldn't you say?"

With a casual shrug, Peter tossed the torn underwear aside, his attention returning to his belly. He ran his fingers along the curve of his navel, teasingly tracing the outline as he thought about the other mementos he had collected over the years.

"Perhaps I'll keep them with the rest," Peter mused, his voice dripping with malice. "A reminder of all the delicious meals I've enjoyed."

Peter stood before the mirror, admiring his reflection with a smirk. The image staring back at him was that of a powerful predator, his chest bouncy and his stomach adorned with the bulging presence of Stiles, a silent testament to his latest subjugation.

"Damn," Peter muttered to himself, running a hand through his hair. "I look good."

Peter smirked to himself as he made his way out of his penthouse, not bothering to put on a shirt despite the way his distended belly bulged out in the shape of Stiles' trapped form. He relished in the feeling of the cool air against his skin as he stepped out onto the bustling streets of Beacon Hills.

As he strolled down the sidewalk, Peter couldn't help but notice the way people's eyes lingered on his bare torso, some with curiosity, others with outright shock. But Peter paid them no mind, instead reveling in the attention as he made his way toward the local grocery store.

With each step, Peter's mind wandered to the errands he needed to run, a smirk playing at the corners of his lips as he thought about the groceries he planned to purchase. He imagined Stiles squirming helplessly in his belly as he loaded up his cart with food, teasing the boy about how each item would soon join him in his digestive tract.

Entering the grocery store, Peter was greeted by the familiar sights and sounds of the bustling aisles, the smell of fresh produce and baked goods wafting through the air. He wasted no time in making his way through the store, his bare chest drawing stares from other shoppers as he moved with purpose.

A group of teenagers whispered amongst themselves as Peter passed by, their eyes darting nervously between him and his distended abdomen. One of them, a bold young man with a cocky smirk, couldn't resist blurting out, "Dude, what's with the gut?"

Peter paused in his tracks, fixing the teenager with a cool, calculating gaze. "What are you looking at?" he replied, his voice laced with thinly veiled amusement. "Never seen a man with a healthy appetite before?"

The teenager blanched, taken aback by Peter's confident demeanor. "Uh, no, I mean... sorry, man," he stammered, quickly averting his gaze and shuffling away with his friends in tow.

Peter chuckled softly to himself, shaking his head in amusement. It wasn't the first time he'd been met with such reactions, and he doubted it would be the last. But he didn't mind the attention; if anything, it only served to bolster his sense of power and superiority.

As he browsed the aisles, Peter couldn't resist the urge to tease Stiles, imagining the boy's muffled protests as he tossed various items into his cart.  "Looks like you'll have some company soon, Stiles," he chuckled, running a hand over his distended abdomen. "I hope you don't mind sharing your new home with a few groceries." He grabbed a bag of apples, imagining how their crisp sweetness would lessen as he chewed it up, mixed it with his saliva, and swallowed it down, and chuckled to himself as he added them to his pile of groceries.

Moving on, Peter grabbed a carton of eggs and a loaf of bread, imagining the satisfying crunch they would make as they were crushed beneath his teeth. He tossed a few cans of soup and a box of cereal into his cart, relishing in the thought of the hearty meals they would provide as he digested his latest victim.

As he made his way to the checkout, Peter couldn't help but feel a sense of satisfaction at the thought of the delicious meal that awaited him at home. With a smirk, he paid for his groceries and made his way out of the store, his belly still bulging out proudly as he headed back to his penthouse.

As the days passed, Stiles found himself immersed in a surreal and nightmarish ordeal within the confines of Peter's digestive tract. Each day brought with it a new wave of sensations and experiences as his body slowly succumbed to the relentless onslaught of Peter's stomach acids.

On the first day, Stiles was greeted by a warm, tingling sensation as the acids began to break down his flesh. It started as a gentle caress, almost soothing in its intensity, but soon escalated into a burning sensation that spread throughout his entire body. He cried out in pain and frustration, his pleas for mercy falling on deaf ears as Peter's mocking laughter echoed in his ears.

"You're really putting up a fight, aren't you, Stiles?" Peter taunted, his voice reverberating through the cavernous expanse of his stomach. "You do know  you will never beat a werewolf’s physique, do you? You belong to me now, body and soul."

Stiles gritted his teeth in defiance, his anger boiling over at Peter's smug demeanor. "Screw you, Peter!" he spat, his voice laced with venom. "You can't keep me trapped in here forever. The others will find out what you've done, and they'll make you pay for it!"

Peter chuckled darkly, the sound sending shivers down Stiles' spine. "Oh, I highly doubt that, Stiles," he replied, his tone dripping with malice. "By the time anyone realizes you're missing, you'll be nothing more than a distant memory. Just another victim of the big bad wolf."

Despite his bravado, Stiles couldn't shake the gnawing sense of fear that threatened to consume him from within. With each passing day, he felt his strength waning, his body growing weaker as the acids continued their relentless assault. But even in the face of impending doom, he refused to go down without a fight.

As the second day dawned, Stiles found himself sinking deeper into the abyss of Peter's belly, his screams of agony muffled by the suffocating darkness that surrounded him. The pain was unbearable, a constant reminder of his dire predicament, but still he clung to the faint hope of survival.

"Please, Peter," he begged, his voice hoarse with desperation. "Let me go. I won't tell anyone what happened. Just please, let me out of here!"

Peter's response was a cruel laugh that sent chills down Stiles' spine. "Sorry, Stiles," he said, his voice dripping with false sympathy. "You’re too smart for your good."

With a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach, Stiles realized that his fate was sealed. Trapped within the confines of Peter's stomach, he could do nothing but await his inevitable demise.

Day by day, Stiles felt himself being slowly consumed by the relentless tide of Peter's stomach acids. Each passing moment brought with it a new wave of pain and torment, his body wracked with agony as his flesh melted away beneath the relentless onslaught.

But even in the face of unimaginable suffering, Stiles refused to surrender to despair. With every ounce of strength he possessed, he fought against the inevitable, clinging to the faint hope of survival even as it slipped further and further from his grasp.

"Damn you, Peter!" he screamed, his voice coarse with pain. "I won't let you win! I'll find a way out of here, no matter what it takes!"

But Peter's only response was a mocking laugh, the sound reverberating through the cavernous expanse of his stomach. "Keep telling yourself that, Stiles," he taunted.

Peter chuckled to himself as he stood before the mirror, his hands moving to his distended belly. With a playful smirk, he began to rub and knead the bulging mass, reveling in the sensation of Stiles' struggling form trapped within.

"You really outdid yourself this time, Stiles," Peter mused, his fingers tracing lazy circles over his taut skin. "I'll have to remember to thank you properly for that little release."

As he continued to play with his belly, Peter's gaze drifted to the torn shreds of fabric that had once been Stiles' underwear. With a wicked grin, he plucked them up from the floor and held them up to the light, examining them with amusement.

"These will make a perfect addition to my collection," Peter remarked, his tone filled with dark amusement. "A little memento of our time together, wouldn't you say?"

With a casual shrug, Peter tossed the torn underwear aside, his attention returning to his belly. He ran his fingers along the curve of his navel, teasingly tracing the outline as he thought about the other mementos he had collected over the years.

"Perhaps I'll keep them with the rest," Peter mused, his voice dripping with malice. "A reminder of all the delicious meals I've enjoyed."

Peter stood before the mirror, admiring his reflection with a smirk. The image staring back at him was that of a powerful predator, his chest bouncy and his stomach adorned with the bulging presence of Stiles, a silent testament to his latest subjugation.

"Damn," Peter muttered to himself, running a hand through his hair. "I look good."

Peter smirked to himself as he made his way out of his penthouse, not bothering to put on a shirt despite the way his distended belly bulged out in the shape of Stiles' trapped form. He relished in the feeling of the cool air against his skin as he stepped out onto the bustling streets of Beacon Hills.

As he strolled down the sidewalk, Peter couldn't help but notice the way people's eyes lingered on his bare torso, some with curiosity, others with outright shock. But Peter paid them no mind, instead reveling in the attention as he made his way toward the local grocery store.

With each step, Peter's mind wandered to the errands he needed to run, a smirk playing at the corners of his lips as he thought about the groceries he planned to purchase. He imagined Stiles squirming helplessly in his belly as he loaded up his cart with food, teasing the boy about how each item would soon join him in his digestive tract.

Entering the grocery store, Peter was greeted by the familiar sights and sounds of the bustling aisles, the smell of fresh produce and baked goods wafting through the air. He wasted no time in making his way through the store, his bare chest drawing stares from other shoppers as he moved with purpose.

A group of teenagers whispered amongst themselves as Peter passed by, their eyes darting nervously between him and his distended abdomen. One of them, a bold young man with a cocky smirk, couldn't resist blurting out, "Dude, what's with the gut?"

Peter paused in his tracks, fixing the teenager with a cool, calculating gaze. "What are you looking at?" he replied, his voice laced with thinly veiled amusement. "Never seen a man with a healthy appetite before?"

The teenager blanched, taken aback by Peter's confident demeanor. "Uh, no, I mean... sorry, man," he stammered, quickly averting his gaze and shuffling away with his friends in tow.

Peter chuckled softly to himself, shaking his head in amusement. It wasn't the first time he'd been met with such reactions, and he doubted it would be the last. But he didn't mind the attention; if anything, it only served to bolster his sense of power and superiority.

As he browsed the aisles, Peter couldn't resist the urge to tease Stiles, imagining the boy's muffled protests as he tossed various items into his cart.  "Looks like you'll have some company soon, Stiles," he chuckled, running a hand over his distended abdomen. "I hope you don't mind sharing your new home with a few groceries." He grabbed a bag of apples, imagining how their crisp sweetness would lessen as he chewed it up, mixed it with his saliva, and swallowed it down, and chuckled to himself as he added them to his pile of groceries.

Moving on, Peter grabbed a carton of eggs and a loaf of bread, imagining the satisfying crunch they would make as they were crushed beneath his teeth. He tossed a few cans of soup and a box of cereal into his cart, relishing in the thought of the hearty meals they would provide as he digested his latest victim.

As he made his way to the checkout, Peter couldn't help but feel a sense of satisfaction at the thought of the delicious meal that awaited him at home. With a smirk, he paid for his groceries and made his way out of the store, his belly still bulging out proudly as he headed back to his penthouse.

As the days passed, Stiles found himself immersed in a surreal and nightmarish ordeal within the confines of Peter's digestive tract. Each day brought with it a new wave of sensations and experiences as his body slowly succumbed to the relentless onslaught of Peter's stomach acids.

On the first day, Stiles was greeted by a warm, tingling sensation as the acids began to break down his flesh. It started as a gentle caress, almost soothing in its intensity, but soon escalated into a burning sensation that spread throughout his entire body. He cried out in pain and frustration, his pleas for mercy falling on deaf ears as Peter's mocking laughter echoed in his ears.

"You're really putting up a fight, aren't you, Stiles?" Peter taunted, his voice reverberating through the cavernous expanse of his stomach. "You do know  you will never beat a werewolf’s physique, do you? You belong to me now, body and soul."

Stiles gritted his teeth in defiance, his anger boiling over at Peter's smug demeanor. "Screw you, Peter!" he spat, his voice laced with venom. "You can't keep me trapped in here forever. The others will find out what you've done, and they'll make you pay for it!"

Peter chuckled darkly, the sound sending shivers down Stiles' spine. "Oh, I highly doubt that, Stiles," he replied, his tone dripping with malice. "By the time anyone realizes you're missing, you'll be nothing more than a distant memory. Just another victim of the big bad wolf."

Despite his bravado, Stiles couldn't shake the gnawing sense of fear that threatened to consume him from within. With each passing day, he felt his strength waning, his body growing weaker as the acids continued their relentless assault. But even in the face of impending doom, he refused to go down without a fight.

As the second day dawned, Stiles found himself sinking deeper into the abyss of Peter's belly, his screams of agony muffled by the suffocating darkness that surrounded him. The pain was unbearable, a constant reminder of his dire predicament, but still he clung to the faint hope of survival.

"Please, Peter," he begged, his voice hoarse with desperation. "Let me go. I won't tell anyone what happened. Just please, let me out of here!"

Peter's response was a cruel laugh that sent chills down Stiles' spine. "Sorry, Stiles," he said, his voice dripping with false sympathy. "You’re too smart for your good."

With a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach, Stiles realized that his fate was sealed. Trapped within the confines of Peter's stomach, he could do nothing but await his inevitable demise.

Day by day, Stiles felt himself being slowly consumed by the relentless tide of Peter's stomach acids. Each passing moment brought with it a new wave of pain and torment, his body wracked with agony as his flesh melted away beneath the relentless onslaught.

But even in the face of unimaginable suffering, Stiles refused to surrender to despair. With every ounce of strength he possessed, he fought against the inevitable, clinging to the faint hope of survival even as it slipped further and further from his grasp.

"Damn you, Peter!" he screamed, his voice coarse with pain. "I won't let you win! I'll find a way out of here, no matter what it takes!"

But Peter's only response was a mocking laugh, the sound reverberating through the cavernous expanse of his stomach. "Keep telling yourself that, Stiles," he taunted. He stood in front of the mirror in his penthouse, adjusting the collar of his shirt with a satisfied smirk. He glanced over at the corner of the room where Stiles’ underwear memento lay, torn and cum-soaked from his prior release.

"Looks like they've called a meeting to find you," Peter taunted, his voice dripping with amusement. "Funny how you'll most likely be dead by the end of it."

Stiles groaned weakly, his eyes fluttering open as he struggled against his restraints. "You're sick, Peter," he muttered hoarsely, his words barely audible.

Peter chuckled darkly, turning back to the mirror to straighten his tie. "Perhaps. But at least I'll be entertained while I wait for your demise."

With a final smirk at Stiles, Peter left the penthouse, and headed towards the designated meeting spot– Derek Hale & Noah Stillinski had called for an emergency meeting, as one of their members had suddenly disappeared without a trace.

As Peter sat in on the pack meeting with Derek and Noah, the tension in the room was palpable. Noah's usually calm demeanor was replaced by an air of frantic worry, his brow furrowed and hands clenched into tight fists. Derek, ever protective of his pack members, especially Stiles, was visibly agitated, his posture rigid as he leaned forward in his seat.

"So, any leads on where Stiles could be?" Noah's voice was strained, betraying his desperation as he addressed the group.

Derek shook his head, his jaw clenched tight. "Nothing yet. I've been trying to pick up his scent, but it's like he's vanished without a trace."

Noah let out a frustrated sigh, running a hand through his hair. "This doesn't make any sense. Stiles wouldn't just disappear like this. He's not the type to run away."

Peter, leaning back in his seat with a smug grin, interjected, "Perhaps he's just off on one of his little adventures. You know how Stiles can be, always getting himself into trouble."

Derek shot Peter a glare, his eyes flashing with irritation. "This is serious, Peter. Stiles wouldn't just up and leave without telling anyone. Something's not right."

Noah nodded in agreement, his gaze hardening. "Exactly. Which is why we need to figure out what happened to him, and fast."

“What if he fell victim to the same disappearances that have been happening around Beacon Hills?” Peter said, “Maybe what got them, got him.” He added, feigning concern and intending it to be an indirect tease to the almost-fully-digested Stiles in his gut, having to hear them mutter about his fate when he’s only a few feet away from them.

“Don’t say that.” Noah said, not wanting to comprehend the possibility that he will never find his son again.

The group fell into a tense silence as they pondered their next move. Noah's mind was racing with worry for his son, while Derek's thoughts were consumed with concern and determination to find Stiles and bring him home safely.

Finally, Noah stood up from his seat, his expression grim. "I need to attend to my duties as Sheriff. Derek, I'm trusting you to lead the search for Stiles. Find my son, Derek. Bring him back to me. Please."

Derek nodded solemnly, his resolve hardening. "I will, Sheriff. I promise."

With that, Noah left the meeting, leaving Derek and Peter to plan their next steps in the search for Stiles. But as they began to discuss their strategy, Derek couldn't shake the feeling of dread that gnawed at him, a sinking suspicion that whatever had happened to Stiles was far more sinister than any of them could have imagined.

“You might be right, Peter.”

Peter watched as Derek's expression hardened, a flicker of vulnerability slipping through his stoic facade. He leaned forward, his curiosity piqued by Derek's sudden intensity.

"You think my suggestion is true, don't you?" Peter asked, his voice carefully neutral, though a glint of amusement danced in his eyes.

Derek hesitated, his gaze fixed on the table before him. "I didn't want to say anything in front of Noah, but... yes, I think you might be right," he admitted, his voice low and serious.

Peter raised an eyebrow, feigning innocence. "And why is that?"

Derek sighed heavily, his frustration evident. "Stiles... he told me he had a hunch about who was behind all this. He wanted to investigate further, but before he could..."

His voice trailed off, the weight of his words hanging heavily in the air. Peter leaned back in his chair, his mind racing with possibilities.

"And he disappeared," Peter finished for him, a note of understanding in his voice. "Without ever knowing if his hunch was right."

Derek nodded grimly, his jaw clenched with determination. "I'm almost certain his hunch was right," he admitted, his voice tinged with regret. "And now... now he's gone."

Peter studied Derek's expression carefully, sensing the guilt and remorse that lingered beneath his steely exterior. He knew Derek blamed himself for Stiles' disappearance, even if he wouldn't admit it out loud.

"Well, we'll just have to find him, won't we?" Peter said, injecting a note of false optimism into his voice. "And when we do, we'll make sure whoever's responsible pays for what they've done."

Peter's confident facade faltered as a sudden wave of nausea swept over him, his stomach churning violently. He clutched at his abdomen, grimacing as a series of guttural gags and deep burps erupted from his throat, each one more forceful than the last. Saliva dribbled down his chin, mingling with the bile rising in his throat.

Derek watched in concern as Peter doubled over, his face contorted in discomfort. "Peter, are you okay?" he asked, his voice laced with worry.

Peter waved him off, his breath coming in ragged gasps as he fought to regain control of his rebellious stomach. "Fine," he managed to choke out between gags. "Just... a momentary... hiccup."

But the spasms only intensified, each one wracking his body with increasing ferocity. His vision blurred with tears as he struggled to contain the rising tide of sickness threatening to overwhelm him.

And then, with one final heave, Peter expelled a thick wad of saliva and bile, followed by a sudden burst of pressure from his throat. His eyes widened in shock as he felt something solid lodged in his esophagus, blocking his airway.

With a desperate groan, Peter reached up to his mouth, his fingers probing frantically at the obstruction. And then, with a sickening squelch, he felt it give way beneath his touch, sliding up his throat and into the open air.

Derek's eyes widened in horror as Peter withdrew a half-digested jacket from his mouth, its fabric stained and sodden with digestive juices. The sight of it made his stomach churn, bile rising in his own throat at the realization of what had just transpired.

Peter's face paled as he stared down at the jacket in his hands, a cold shiver coursing through his veins. He had never experienced anything like this before, never lost control of his own body in such a humiliating manner. But Derek didn't need an explanation. The truth was plain to see, written in the horrified expression on Peter's face and the undeniable evidence clutched in his trembling hands.

Stiles was gone, and he wasn't coming back.

"I..." he began, his voice trailing off as he struggled to find the words to explain what had just happened. But he didn’t need to; 

Before Peter could utter a word, Derek was upon him, his fist connecting with brutal force against Peter's abdomen. The impact sent shockwaves rippling through Peter's body, knocking him off balance and sending him stumbling backward with a pained grunt. The force of the punch was enough to warrant another, abrupt burp that erupted from Peter’s mouth–

BuuUuurRrP!

–surprisingly just as loud as his previous one. Peter hadn’t anticipated how fast it happened: Derek's transformation was swift and violent, his fangs elongating into razor-sharp points and his eyes blazing a furious shade of crimson. The air crackled with the raw power of his Alpha aura as he surged forward, his movements fluid and predatory.

The force of Derek's blow was enough to drive the breath from Peter's lungs, leaving him gasping for air as he struggled to regain his footing. He looked up at Derek with wide eyes.

"Derek, I—" he began, but Derek cut him off with a fierce growl, his lips drawn back in a snarl of rage.

"Don't you dare try to deny it," Derek spat, his voice low and menacing. "You fucking ate him, didn't you? You swallowed him whole like some goddamn monster!"

Peter's heart pounded in his chest as he watched Derek advance, his gaze filled with a primal intensity that sent a chill down his spine– But it wasn’t out of fear, it was pounding out of the intense excitement that he gets to swallow Derek, too. He could feel the weight of Derek's accusation bearing down on him, the truth of it echoing in his mind like a relentless drumbeat.

But even as Derek loomed over him, his fists clenched in fury, Peter had to tease. “Didn’t think Stiles had it in him to be so loud,” He said, “Guess he wanted his final words to be heard.” He had consumed Stiles, yes, and he had burped up Stiles’ last effort at wanting to be seen.

"Save it," Derek snapped, his voice dripping with scorn. "I trusted you, Peter. We all did. And this is how you repay us? By eating one of our own?"

“You should be thankful” Peter replied, lifting up his top to show Derek his churning gut. Loud, fattier, squishable, and the most prominent change: A tattoo of Stiles's face around his naval, a permanent reminder of what he had done and a power symbol to brag about. “I’m one-for-two now, Stiles is still here. Just, different.”

“You fucking…” Derek growled, “…You fucking got his face tattooed?!”

“On the contrary,” He spoke, giving the place where Stiles’ face was imprinted a squish. “He got it tattooed, must’ve liked what happened enough in there to want to stay on it.” Subtly implying that this was simply a byproduct of the digestion.

“W-Wha–?!” Derek stuttered before being cut off by the predator.

“That punch you gave me earlier? Stiles felt it as much as I did. Can still faintly hear him in there.” He taunted, rubbing in the fact that beating Peter is indirectly beating his friend-turned-fat.

With a guttural roar, Derek lashed out again, his fist striking Peter's face with bone-crushing force. Peter was in agony, his breath coming in ragged gasps as he fought to keep from keeling over.

“Stop fucking with me!” The alpha shouted, jumping in for another punch– He wasn’t buying Peter’s shit, thinking what he said was either intended to rub it in or discourage him from beating the shit out of him.

Derek's fist sailed through the air with deadly intent, but Peter was already moving, his reflexes honed by years of survival instinct. He dodged Derek's punch with a swift sidestep, then retaliated with a powerful kick to Derek's abdomen.

The force of Peter's blow sent Derek staggering backward, his knees buckling beneath him as he struggled to remain upright. With a growl of frustration, Derek dropped to his knees, his hands clenching into fists as he glared up at Peter.

"Now now, you really want to hurt your boy this much?" Peter taunted, a smirk playing at the corners of his lips.

Derek's anger flared, his instincts urging him to launch himself at Peter in a blind fury. But just as he was about to strike, a sudden wave of hesitation washed over him. Even if he didn’t believe Peter, what if he hurt Stiles in the process? What if it was real? The thought paralyzed him for a split second, just long enough for Peter to seize the opportunity.

With lightning speed, Peter swung his fist forward, his knuckles connecting with Derek's jaw with a sickening thud. Derek's head snapped back, pain exploding behind his eyes as he crumpled to the ground.

Before Derek could react, Peter was upon him, his weight bearing down on Derek's chest as he pinned him to the ground. Derek struggled beneath him, his muscles straining against the crushing pressure of Peter's bulk, his belly.

"You think you can stop me?" Peter taunted, his voice low and menacing. "You're nothing, Derek. Just a weak little Alpha who couldn't protect his own pack."

Derek's chest heaved with exertion as he strained against Peter's hold, but the weight pressing down on him was relentless. He could feel his strength waning, his limbs growing heavy with fatigue.

But just as he was about to succumb to the suffocating pressure, a surge of determination flooded through him. With a fierce roar, Derek summoned every ounce of his remaining strength and pushed against Peter with all his might.

For a moment, it seemed as though Peter might be overpowered, his grip faltering ever so slightly. But then, with a final burst of effort, he tightened his hold, his belly pressing down even harder on Derek's chest.

"You're going to– Uunngh… Pay for what you've done, Peter," Derek growled, his voice a low, menacing rumble. "I swear it."

Peter's taunts cut through the air like a knife, each word dripping with malice as he leaned in closer to Derek, his smirk widening into a cruel grin.

"You know, Stiles was still alive when you came in for that meeting," Peter sneered, relishing the anguish that flickered across Derek's face. "Who knows if he died from digestion mid-meeting as we obliviously discussed where he went during his final moments, unable to help as he died... Or if your punch was the one to finish him off?"

Derek's fists clenched at his sides, his jaw set in a tight line as he fought to hold back the wave of despair threatening to consume him. "Fuck you, Peter," he spat, his voice thick with emotion.

But Peter merely chuckled, the sound grating on Derek's nerves like sandpaper. "Oh, don't worry, Derek. You'll be joining your pack member soon enough," he taunted, his tone dripping with sinister promise. "The pack’ll reunite, as fat on my fucking belly."

The words hung in the air like a death sentence, sending a shiver down Derek's spine. He knew he had to find a way out, to break free from Peter's suffocating hold before it was too late. But as he struggled against the crushing weight pinning him down, he couldn't shake the sinking feeling that he might never escape from this nightmare.

With a cruel smirk, Peter leaned in closer to Derek, his eyes glinting with malicious intent as he spat on Derek's face, the spittle landing in a disgusting splatter. "You're going to make such a nice, fat addition to my belly," he taunted, his voice dripping with sadistic glee.

He continued to rub his distended belly against Derek's chest, the pressure making it difficult for Derek to breathe as he forced him to hear the sickening gurgles emanating from within. "Just imagine how much fatter you'll make me once I've digested you and Stiles together," Peter teased, his tone mocking.

Derek gritted his teeth, his fists clenched in impotent rage as he struggled against Peter's overwhelming strength. He knew he was no match for the werewolf in his current state, but he refused to give up without a fight.

Peter pushed his belly further against Derek’s chest and up on his face, forcing him to listen to the gurgles of digestion and feel the remaining weight of Stiles in his beer belly.

But before he could muster a response, Peter's tone shifted, his smirk widening into a predatory grin. "But not now," he mused, almost casually. "I think I'll save the best for last. Noah Stilinski seems like he'd be a delicious appetizer, don't you think?“ He said, ”Family first, right? Poor dad must be missing his son.“

And with that, Peter delivered a swift, powerful punch to Derek's jaw, the force of it knocking him unconscious in an instant. As darkness closed in around him, Derek couldn't help but wonder if he would ever see the light of day again.

Peter's muscles rippled beneath his taut skin as he effortlessly lifted Derek's unconscious form from the ground, his strength belying his lean frame. With a grunt of exertion, he hoisted Derek's limp body over his broad shoulder, his arms securely wrapped around his waist to prevent him from slipping.

With Derek's weight settled against him, Peter began the journey back to his penthouse, his steps purposeful and steady as he navigated the dimly lit streets of Beacon Hills. The cool night air brushed against his skin, carrying with it the faint scent of pine and earth, a stark contrast to the turmoil raging within him.

As he approached the entrance to his building, Peter's pace quickened, a surge of anticipation coursing through him at the thought of what awaited them inside. With a flick of his wrist, he unlocked the door and stepped into the opulent foyer, the soft glow of the chandeliers casting eerie shadows across the marble floors.

Carefully, Peter carried Derek through the spacious penthouse, his footsteps echoing in the silence as he made his way to the makeshift holding area he had prepared in the basement. With a grunt of effort, he lowered Derek onto the sturdy metal cot, his muscles straining with the effort as he secured the restraints around Derek's wrists and ankles, ensuring that he wouldn't be able to escape.

Once Derek was securely bound, Peter stepped back, a satisfied smile curling his lips as he surveyed his handiwork. With Derek safely restrained, he could finally focus on his next target: Noah Stilinski.

"Now, off to Noah's workplace..." Peter murmured to himself, his voice low and menacing as he turned on his heel and made his way back upstairs.

The Beacon County Sheriff Station stood as a sturdy fortress against the encroaching darkness of the night. Its exterior was composed of weathered bricks, their surfaces marred by the passage of time and the elements. At the lower few meters of the building, the bricks transitioned into a different type of tile, arranged in a neat pattern that offered a subtle contrast to the rough texture of the bricks above.

A dusty, old sign adorned the top of the double-sided glass doors, its letters slightly faded from years of exposure to the elements. The white frames of the doors gleamed faintly under the dim glow of the street lamps that flanked the entrance. Two additional lamps, one on each side of the doorway, cast pools of light onto the cracked pavement below, their buzzing hum adding to the eerie ambiance of the night.

Peter approached the entrance with purposeful strides, his gaze fixed on the illuminated interior beyond the glass doors. Despite the late hour, the station was still abuzz with activity, the sound of ringing phones and hurried footsteps echoing through the empty streets. Most of the deputies had already ended their shifts and gone home for the night, leaving only a skeleton crew behind to maintain order in the quiet hours of the evening.

As Peter pushed open the heavy glass doors and stepped into the station, he noted the tired expressions of the few deputies who remained already packing their things to leave, their shoulders slumped with exhaustion as they went about their duties, while most had already gone home far earlier, after their shift ended. The fluorescent lights overhead cast harsh shadows on the linoleum floor, illuminating the worn desks and filing cabinets that lined the walls.

At the far end of the room, Peter spotted Sheriff Noah Stilinski, in his office, hunched over a stack of paperwork, his brow furrowed in concentration. Despite the late hour, Noah seemed to be working overtime, his dedication to his duties evident in the way he tirelessly poured over the files spread out before him.

Peter's lips curled into a smirk as he made his way toward Noah's desk, his footsteps echoing loudly in the empty station. Tonight, he would pay a visit to the sheriff, and nothing would stand in his way.

As Peter approached Noah's desk, the sheriff looked up from his paperwork, a flicker of surprise crossing his features at the sight of the unexpected visitor. "Peter," Noah greeted, a note of relief in his voice. "What brings you here at this hour?"

Peter offered a sheepish smile as he leaned against the edge of Noah's desk. "Sorry to disappoint, but I'm not here with any groundbreaking leads," he admitted, his tone apologetic. "Just happened to be in the neighborhood, thought I'd drop by and see how things were going."

Noah nodded, understanding. "Well, it's always good to see a friendly face," he replied, his voice tinged with a hint of exhaustion. "Especially on a night like tonight."

Peter raised an eyebrow, his gaze flickering over Noah's fatigued expression. "You look tired, Sheriff," he observed, his tone laced with genuine concern.

Noah chuckled softly, a weary smile playing at the corners of his lips. "You could say that," he admitted, rubbing a hand over his face. "It's been a long day. But sometimes, being here helps take my mind off things, if only for a little while."

Peter nodded in understanding, his expression sympathetic. "I get that," he replied, his voice soft. "Sometimes, it's nice to have a distraction, even if it's just for a moment."

Noah offered a grateful smile in return, appreciating the sentiment. "Exactly," he agreed, his eyes meeting Peter's with a hint of camaraderie. "Besides, it's all part of the job, right? Gotta keep pushing forward, even when things get tough."

Peter nodded in agreement, his gaze lingering on Noah's weary form. Despite the sheriff's outward strength, Peter couldn't help but feel a pang of empathy for the man who carried the weight of the town's safety on his shoulders.

The sheriff chuckled, “…It’s funny, because as much as I used to bicker with him, I miss him like crazy.” He looked thoughtful, “I say I try to get my mind off things, but truth be told, I couldn’t focus on shit today.” Performance suffered, and working overtime was not just a way to distract but a way to make up.

Peter glanced around the now-deserted sheriff's station, ensuring that they were alone before turning back to Noah with a solemn expression. "You know, I think I might have a lead that could help ease your mind for a bit," he began, his voice low and serious.

Noah's eyes widened with hope, a surge of adrenaline coursing through him at the prospect of finally getting some answers about his missing son. "You do?" he asked eagerly, leaning forward in his chair. "Where did he go? Did you find him?"

Peter hesitated for a moment before responding, his gaze flickering with a mixture of guilt and determination. "He's right here," he said quietly, reaching down and lifting the hem of his shirt to reveal the tattoo of Stiles' face etched into his skin.

Noah's brow furrowed in confusion, his initial excitement fading into frustration. "Peter, I appreciate the sentiment, but now is not the time for jokes," he replied sternly, his voice tinged with annoyance, thinking that getting a tattoo of stiles’ face now was bad timing.

But Peter's expression remained deadly serious as he lowered his shirt, his eyes locking onto Noah's with an intensity that sent a shiver down the sheriff's spine. "I'm not joking, Noah," he said quietly, his tone devoid of humor. "I swallowed him whole."

Noah's heart skipped a beat as the full weight of Peter's words sank in, his mind struggling to process the horrifying truth of what he was hearing. "What do you mean, you swallowed him whole?" he demanded, his voice trembling with a mixture of disbelief and horror.

Peter's lips curled into a cruel smirk as he recounted the gruesome details of Stiles' fate, his words dripping with malice as he described the agony of his son's final moments. Noah's stomach churned with revulsion as he listened, unable to comprehend the sheer brutality of Peter's actions.

"You monster," Noah spat, his voice trembling with rage as he glared at Peter with loathing. "How could you do something like that? How could you take my son away from me?"

But Peter remained unfazed by Noah's outburst, his expression cold and impassive as he shrugged indifferently. "It's nothing personal, Sheriff," he replied casually, his tone devoid of remorse. "Your son just tasted fucking delicious." He said, licking his lips and clutching his fat belly.

Noah's hands clenched into fists at his sides as he fought to contain his anger, his chest heaving with the effort to keep himself from lashing out at Peter. But deep down, he knew that there was nothing he could do to bring his son back, nothing he could do to make things right, and with his most effective werewolf weaponry far away, nothing he could to avenge.

Peter forcibly rushed, rapidly transforming to his werewolf form as his predatory instincts took over, pinning Noah against his desk with a strength that was impossible for the sheriff to resist. Noah's heart pounded in his chest as he felt the weight of Peter's massive body pressing down on him, his muscles straining against the powerful hold, and his belly pushing against his body– The same belly that relentlessly digested his son.

Despite Noah's tough exterior and years of training as a police officer, he felt utterly powerless in the face of Peter's relentless assault. His mind reeled with shock and disbelief as he realized the true extent of the danger he was in, and he was weak; Mourning his son’s death, his squirms and struggles were instinctual, but he had long given up.

With a savage growl, Peter tore away Noah's clothes, leaving him exposed and vulnerable beneath his predatory gaze. Noah's skin burned with shame as he lay helpless beneath the werewolf's relentless onslaught, his muscles tensing with every agonizing second that passed.

But as Peter's tongue traced a path of fiery heat across his exposed flesh, Noah's resistance began to crumble, his senses overwhelmed by the raw intensity of the sensations coursing through his body. Despite his best efforts to fight it, he found himself succumbing to the overpowering force of Peter's touch, his defenses crumbling beneath the weight of his own despair.

Peter licked down to Noah’s exposed member, licking it all the way down to his balls. Tears streamed down Noah's cheeks as he felt Peter's lips close around his dick, his body wracked with a mixture of pleasure and pain as the werewolf forced him to submit to his desires. He continued to suck on it, Noah’s dick growing hard in the werewolf’s mouth, his veins rubbing against the fangs.

Before Noah could find any reprieve from the unwanted pleasure, Peter abruptly withdrew his attention from his groin, leaving Noah gasping for air and shuddering with a mix of relief and lingering arousal. But his moment of respite was short-lived, as Peter's tongue trailed up Noah's body with a ferocity that sent shivers down his spine, leaving a slick trail of saliva in its wake.

With a low growl, Peter leaned in close, his hot breath washing over Noah's face as he licked and nipped at his skin with reckless abandon. Noah could feel his heart pounding in his chest as he gazed up at the werewolf towering over him, his mind reeling with a dizzying mix of fear and desire.

As Peter's lips brushed against his own, Noah could feel the weight of his words hanging in the air like a heavy shroud. "Reuniting son and father," Peter teased, his voice dripping with malicious intent. "Isn't that what you wanted, Sheriff?"

Noah's breath caught in his throat as he struggled to find the words to respond, his mind spinning with a maelstrom of conflicting emotions. Part of him wanted to lash out in anger and defiance, to fight tooth and nail against the fate that awaited him, but he had no leverage; Peter caught him at a most unfortunate time.

"Please," Noah begged, his voice barely more than a desperate whisper. "Don't–"

But before he could finish his plea, Peter's hand clamped down over his mouth, silencing him with a forceful gesture. With a savage grin, Peter shoved Noah's face into his gaping maw, his lips stretching wide to accommodate the sheriff's head as he forced him down into the darkness of his throat.

Noah's world erupted into chaos as he felt himself being swallowed whole, his body writhing and convulsing with a mix of terror and revulsion. He could feel the walls of Peter's esophagus closing in around him, squeezing him tight as he was dragged down into the depths of the werewolf's belly.

As Peter's jaws clamped shut around him, Noah felt an overwhelming sense of helplessness wash over him. He could feel himself being drawn inexorably downward, his body slipping and sliding against the slick, saliva-coated walls of Peter's throat as he was swallowed whole.

First, it was his head, squeezed tightly between the muscular walls of Peter's esophagus, the darkness closing in around him like a suffocating blanket. Then came his shoulders, his arms pinned tightly to his sides as he was pulled further and further into the depths of the werewolf's belly.

Noah's chest was next, compressed and constricted as he was forced deeper into Peter's gullet, the pressure mounting with each passing moment. He could feel the heat of Peter's stomach looming ever closer, the acidic tang of digestive juices burning at the back of his throat.

Finally, it was his legs, his feet kicking and flailing uselessly as they disappeared into the gaping maw of the beast that had consumed him. With one final, desperate gasp, Noah felt himself vanish entirely into the darkness, his entire body enveloped by the relentless grip of Peter's insatiable hunger.

A deep, rumbling burp echoed through the chamber as Peter swallowed Noah down, the sound reverberating off the walls with a sickening finality. With a satisfied grin, Peter patted his distended belly, the outline of Noah's form visible beneath his stretched skin.

"Ah, that hits the spot," Peter chuckled, his voice muffled by the layers of flesh that separated him from the outside world. "Looks like it's just you and me now, Sheriff. Hope you enjoy your stay." He said, before correcting himself teasingly. “–Er, and what little consciousness left of your son.”

Peter positioned himself on the sheriff's desk, his massive belly protruding obscenely as he straddled the wooden surface. His legs dangled over the edge, his feet grazing the floor below as he leaned forward, his hands planted firmly on either side of Noah's abandoned chair.

With a low, guttural growl, Peter began to grind his hips against his swollen belly, the pressure sending waves of pleasure coursing through his body. His movements were slow and deliberate, each thrust punctuated by a low moan of satisfaction as he reveled in the sensation of his distended stomach pressing against his groin.

"Mmm, you like that, Sheriff?" Peter purred, his voice dripping with smug satisfaction. "Feels good, doesn't it? Knowing that you're just another meal for my appetite."

He continued to hump his belly with increasing fervor, the friction sending sparks of pleasure shooting through his veins. His moans grew louder, more urgent, as he lost himself in the ecstasy of the moment.

"God, I love the feeling of a full belly," he groaned, his voice thick with desire. "And you, Sheriff, you're going to make the perfect addition to my collection. Your son and now you, all snug and cozy in my gut."

With each thrust, Peter could feel himself drawing closer and closer to the edge, his arousal building to a fever pitch. He could practically taste the sweet release that awaited him, the culmination of his twisted desires.

And then, with a final, shuddering gasp, he came, his orgasm washing over him in a tidal wave of pleasure. He collapsed onto the desk, his breath coming in ragged gasps as he basked in the afterglow of his release.

"That was... fucking hot," he panted, his chest heaving with exertion. "Seems like you’re good at three jobs, Sheriff."

Peter sprawled out on the sheriff's desk, his massive belly rising and falling with each labored breath. His skin glistened with sweat and his clothes were rumpled and disheveled, evidence of the intense pleasure he had just experienced.

With a contented sigh, Peter shifted slightly, making himself more comfortable on the hard surface beneath him. He stretched out his limbs, his muscles relaxing as he allowed himself to sink into the desk's worn surface.

"Don't mind if I nap here a little, do you?" he murmured, his voice slurred with exhaustion. He closed his eyes, the darkness behind his eyelids offering a welcome respite from the harsh fluorescent lights of the station.

As he drifted off to sleep, Peter could feel the gentle rocking of his belly as it churned and gurgled around him. It was a soothing sensation, like the ebb and flow of the tide, lulling him into a state of blissful relaxation.

Peter's eyes fluttered open as the early morning light streamed through the windows of the sheriff's station. He sat up slowly, stretching his arms above his head and yawning as he glanced around the dimly lit room.

Checking the clock on the sheriff's desk, Peter muttered to himself, "Shit, almost got caught by your underdogs. I'm one lucky wolf." He chuckled softly, a smug grin spreading across his face as he thought about how close he had come to being discovered.

With a satisfied sigh, Peter climbed to his feet and adjusted his clothing, smoothing out the wrinkles and straightening his collar. He took a moment to admire the sight of Noah's empty office, the memories of their encounter still fresh in his mind.

As he made his way out of the station, Peter's belly churned and gurgled loudly, a constant reminder of the meal he had consumed the night before. He could hear Noah's faint groans of pain echoing from within his gut, the sound sending a thrill of pleasure coursing through his veins.

"Looks like your old age is catching up with you, Sheriff," Peter taunted, his voice dripping with amusement. "Barely lasting in there, aren't you?" He chuckled to himself, relishing in the thought of Noah's suffering as he continued on his way, eager to start his day, as his belly’s occupant barely had any air to breathe in.

Peter lazily strolled down the quiet streets of Beacon Hills, his hands shoved deep into his pockets as he whistled a tuneless melody. The early morning sunlight cast long shadows across the pavement, warming his skin as he ambled along.

With a leisurely pace, Peter made his way to a nearby café, where he ordered himself a large coffee and a pastry, not bothering to hide the bulge of his distended belly as he leaned against the counter. The barista shot him a curious glance, but Peter paid it no mind, too preoccupied with the delicious aroma of freshly brewed coffee.

Sipping his coffee slowly, Peter found a comfortable spot by the window and settled in, idly watching the world go by as he enjoyed his breakfast. He could feel Stiles' face tattoo stretching further across his bloated belly, the ink distorting slightly as his gut churned and gurgled in protest.

After finishing his meal, Peter decided to take a leisurely stroll through the park, enjoying the peaceful solitude as he wandered beneath the canopy of trees. He paused to admire the vibrant colors of the flowers in bloom, the sweet scent of spring filling the air.

As the morning wore on, Peter eventually made his way back to his penthouse, feeling pleasantly relaxed and content. He let out a satisfied sigh as he sank into his favorite armchair, his belly now even more swollen and round than before.

Meanwhile, deep within Peter's gut, Noah continued to be slowly digested, his body breaking down bit by bit until only a few hours later, he was nothing more than a distant memory. Peter's waistline expanded, getting much fatter, and another tattoo of Noah’s face appeared on his gut, next to Stiles. Peter gave it a big, nice squeeze.

“Did say I was going to reunite you, didn’t I?” He said, squeezing even tighter. He knew that both Stiles and Noah could feel what he felt, and he could barely hear their incomprehensible thoughts in the back of his mind, the fat on his belly sentient and permanent. “One more, and the pack’s complete.”

Peter descended the stairs to his basement, the cool air enveloping him as he reached the dimly lit chamber. There, tied-up and bruised, was Derek, his gaze fixed on Peter with a mixture of defiance and resignation.

"Ah, Derek, my dear nephew," Peter said with a smirk, stepping closer to where Derek was restrained. "It seems you've been busy trying to escape. But you know what they say – it takes a werewolf to know how to tie one."

Derek's jaw clenched, his muscles tensing as he struggled against his bonds. But Peter merely chuckled, circling around him like a predator sizing up its prey.

"You're not going anywhere, Derek," Peter continued, his voice dripping with malice. "Not until we've had a little chat. Not until I decide that it’s time for you to join the others."

Derek's eyes narrowed, his gaze flickering down to Peter's distended belly. And then he saw it – the tattoo of Noah's face stretched across Peter's skin, a grim reminder of the fate that had befallen his father.

"Why, Peter?" Derek demanded, his voice thick with emotion. "Why are you doing this?"

Peter chuckled darkly as he pressed his distended belly against Derek's face, feeling the werewolf's struggling breath against his skin.

"You know, Derek," Peter said casually, "I've discovered that eating others whole has some... benefits. It's made me stronger, more powerful than ever before."

Derek groaned, his muscles straining against his bonds as he struggled to break free. But Peter merely tightened his grip, relishing in the sensation of Derek's helplessness.

"Now, here's the deal," Peter continued, his voice low and menacing. "You can either give up your alpha status and be a beta in my pack, or..."

He paused, letting the implication hang in the air as he leaned in closer to Derek's ear.

"...you can become my next meal."

Derek's eyes widened in horror as he realized the full extent of Peter's intentions. He growled, his werewolf fangs showing as he sweared, “Fuck you, I’m doing neither.”

With a sinister grin, Peter leaned down to Derek's face, his tongue snaking out to lick a slow trail across Derek's cheek. The werewolf recoiled at the sensation, disgust etched across his features, but Peter paid no mind.

As Derek's nostrils filled with the scent of blood and decay, his stomach churned with dread. He knew that smell all too well—it was the unmistakable scent of death.

Before he could react, Peter let out a loud, guttural belch directly in Derek's face, the noxious odor overwhelming his senses. Derek gagged, his eyes watering as he struggled to keep from retching.

As the smell of decay lingered in the air, Peter began to remove the shackles that bound Derek's wrists and ankles, the metal clinking loudly in the silence of the basement. Derek tensed, his muscles straining against the bonds that held him in place, but it was no use—Peter's strength was far greater than his own.

With a predatory gleam in his eye, Peter leaned in close to Derek, his breath hot against the werewolf's ear. "Don't worry, Derek," he whispered, his voice dripping with malice. "You'll be reunited with Stiles soon enough. And all the others I've consumed."

Derek's eyes widened in horror at Peter's words, his mind reeling at the realization of just how many lives Peter had claimed. "How many, you sick fuck?" he demanded, his voice trembling with rage and fear.

Peter merely shrugged nonchalantly, a smirk playing at the corners of his lips. "I lost count after twenty," he admitted casually, as if discussing the weather. "But who's counting, anyway?"

Peter's belly rumbled loudly, the sound echoing through the dimly lit basement. "Looks like it's dinner time," Peter chuckled, his eyes gleaming with anticipation. With a predatory grin, he advanced toward Derek, who struggled against his bonds with renewed desperation.

As Peter loomed over him, Derek's eyes burned with fury. "You won't get away with this, Peter," he snarled, his voice laced with venom. "I'll find a way to stop you, no matter what it takes."

Peter merely chuckled in response, his amusement evident. "Oh, Derek, always so defiant," he taunted, his tone mocking. "But resistance is futile. You're mine now."

With that, Peter lunged forward, his jaws snapping shut around Derek's neck. The werewolf let out a muffled shout as he was dragged into Peter's gaping maw, his struggles growing more frantic with each passing moment.

Peter relished in the sensation of dominance as he swallowed Derek down, inch by inch. He could feel the werewolf squirming and writhing inside him, but he paid it no mind. All that mattered was establishing his superiority, both as the stronger werewolf and as the one who held Derek's fate in his hands.

As Derek's protests grew louder, Peter's grin widened. "That's it, Derek," he purred, his voice dripping with satisfaction. "Just relax and accept your fate. You're going to make a delicious addition to my collection."

With a final gulp, Peter swallowed Derek down to the halfway point, his belly bulging obscenely with his captive's form. He let out a contented sigh, reveling in the feeling of power coursing through him.

With a final gulp, Peter swallowed Derek's legs and feet, the last parts of his struggling form disappearing into the depths of his churning belly. As Derek's muffled protests faded into silence, Peter let out a satisfied belch, the sound reverberating through the basement.

"Ah, that hits the spot," Peter remarked, rubbing his distended belly with contentment. "Another one down, another step closer to domination."

Leaving the basement behind, Peter ascended the stairs, his heavy footsteps echoing in the quiet house. He decided to stay awake for Derek's digestion, eager to witness the full extent of his power as the werewolf's struggles slowly subsided.

Grabbing a bag of popcorn from the kitchen, Peter settled onto the couch and flicked on the TV. He scrolled through the movie options, selecting a thriller that seemed fitting for the occasion.

As the opening credits rolled, Peter leaned back and munched on his popcorn, his gaze fixed on the screen but his mind elsewhere. He couldn't help but feel a thrill of anticipation at the thought of Derek's inevitable demise, another victory in his quest for dominance.

With a satisfied smirk, Peter settled in for the show, eager to savor every moment of Derek's agonizing digestion.

As the movie played on, Peter reclined comfortably on the couch, munching on popcorn and occasionally letting out a satisfied belch. Bits of chewed-up popcorn and saliva mixed together as they fell into his churning stomach, joining Derek in his acidic prison.

With each passing minute, the acids in Peter's stomach began to build up, creating an increasingly hostile environment for Derek. He could feel the burning sensation as the stomach acids lapped at his skin, searing his flesh with each movement.

Derek's struggles grew more frantic as the stomach filled with acidic fluid, his attempts to escape becoming more desperate by the second. But Peter merely chuckled at his predicament, taunting him as he watched the movie.

"Quiet down, I can't hear the movie over your ass," Peter remarked, his tone mocking as he shifted on the couch to get a better view of the screen. He took another handful of popcorn and tossed it into his mouth, relishing the taste as he savored Derek's futile attempts to break free.

Derek, contrary to Peter’s remark, squirmed more in protest; Partially because of the pain he was in, but mostly because he refused to lose to him as the alpha. He felt a weight rising up to his chest, and after thumping it, let out a tremendous burp that squeezed his stomach tightly with how much air it purged.

BuUuuuUuuurRrrrrrRrprppppPp!

After letting out a massive belch, Peter noticed that Derek had stopped moving altogether, his struggles coming to an abrupt halt as he became dead weight. With a satisfied grin, Peter began to massage and rub his distended belly, helping it along in the digestion process.

As he kneaded his bloated stomach, Peter could feel the remnants of his latest meal churning and squirming within him, slowly breaking down under the relentless assault of his stomach acids. With each passing moment, Derek's form grew softer and more pliable, his body gradually dissolving into the sludgy mess that would eventually become nothing more than nutrients for Peter, joining the other pack members as permanent fat.

Content with his meal, Peter settled back onto the couch, the weight of his distended belly pressing heavily against him. The warmth and comfort of his food-induced stupor washed over him, lulling him into a state of blissful relaxation.

Before long, Peter succumbed to the inevitable pull of sleep, his eyelids growing heavy as he drifted off into a deep slumber. The movie continued to play on in the background, the sound of gunfire and explosions fading into the background as Peter's consciousness slipped away.

Wrapped in the warmth of his food coma, Peter slept soundly, his belly still churning and digesting its latest meal as he dreamed of the countless feasts that lay ahead.

As Peter awoke from his food-induced slumber, he felt a surge of energy coursing through his veins, a newfound strength that pulsed within him like a beacon of power. Rising from the couch, he made his way to the nearest mirror, eager to see the physical manifestations of his newfound status as alpha.

As he gazed into his reflection, Peter's eyes widened in surprise at the sight of his irises glowing a fiery shade of red, a telltale sign of his ascension to alpha status. A grin spread across his face as he took in the changes that had occurred to his body overnight.

His once lean physique had been transformed into something more robust and muscular, his frame filled out with the remnants of his recent feasts. His belly, in particular, had grown rounder and more prominent, the tattoo of Stiles' & Noah’s faces stretched even further as it adorned the bulging expanse of his abdomen. Moreover, a third tattoo had appeared as he slept; The face of his nephew, Derek.

Feeling a surge of arousal at the sight of his altered appearance, Peter couldn't help but indulge in the newfound power that coursed through him. Stepping closer to the mirror, he positioned himself in front of it, his hands roaming over his bloated belly as he savored the sensation of his own touch.

With a low groan of pleasure, Peter leaned back against the wall, arching his back slightly as he allowed his hands to roam lower, tracing the curve of his distended abdomen with a mix of fascination and desire. His fingers danced lightly over the stretched skin, relishing in the softness and warmth that radiated from his newfound source of power.

As he continued to explore his own body, Peter's mind wandered to the possibilities that lay ahead as the new alpha of Beacon Hills. With Derek's power now coursing through his veins, he knew that he was destined for greatness, destined to rule over the town and its inhabitants with an iron fist.

His hands traced down to his erect member, fingers curling around the shaft as he began to stroke himself with increasing fervor. The sensation sent waves of pleasure coursing through his body, each stroke bringing him closer to the edge of ecstasy.

As he pleasured himself, Peter couldn't help but feel the presence of the individuals he had consumed swirling within his belly. The fat that enveloped his abdomen seemed to pulse with a life of its own, and he could sense the consciousness of Derek, Noah, and Stiles stirring within him.

“Little fuckers, how does it feel to be part of my body?” He said, speaking them to directly as he continued to pleasure himself, pushing his dick up against the sentient fat on his belly. “You like that I’m getting off to you, don’t you?”

Their thoughts whispered through his mind, mingling with his own desires and fantasies as he surrendered himself to the euphoria of the moment. He could hear their voices, faint but distinct, as they cried out in protest, their fear and confusion adding to the heady mix of sensations that flooded his senses.

But instead of recoiling from their presence, Peter found himself drawn to it, his arousal spiking as he reveled in the power he now held over them. With each stroke of his hand, he felt their fear and desperation fueling his own pleasure, driving him ever closer to the brink of release.

His hands continued their relentless motion, fingers sliding up and down his throbbing member with practiced skill. With each stroke, he couldn't help but revel in the sensation of his own touch, the pleasure building with every pass. As he pleasured himself, his thoughts turned to the recent events—the meals he had consumed, the power he had gained, and the control he now wielded.

As he pleasured himself, Peter moaned softly, the sound mixing with his thoughts as he teased them about their fate. "You're all mine now," he whispered, his voice laced with dark amusement. "You'll be with me forever, trapped in this fat," he continued, his tone dripping with satisfaction. "No matter how hard I work out, I'll never lose you."

The thought sent shivers of pleasure down his spine, intensifying the sensation as he continued to stroke himself with increasing fervor. His mind was consumed with images of their struggles, their cries of pain and desperation echoing in his ears as he relished in his newfound power over them.

And then, with a guttural groan, Peter reached the pinnacle of ecstasy, his body convulsing with the force of his release. Wave after wave of pleasure washed over him as he ejaculated load after load, his seed spilling forth in a torrent.

As he lay there, spent and sated, Peter couldn't help but smile to himself, his mind still buzzing with the euphoria of his conquest. “Fuck…” He moaned, his gut coated with his cum, particularly around the faces’ tattoos. “That felt fucking good.”

Peter grabbed his belly and squeezed it tight, “Can’t wait to eat more people, and have all of you feel every bit of it as you help digest them.”

[solitarycenturionmatrix]

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