#soul vore

[mpreghotties]

All of the pics from Chris Pratt after he swallowed Jesse Lee Soffer whole!

[mtftmeat]

hard and needy and milking itself like a good boi, coming to terms with being a malegirl, honestly reveling in it-

like, its detransition is permanent ish, but its not going off hrt permanently- its just realized its identity is explicitly a boi who presents as and fills the role of a cute, slutty, obedient girl, and that it's okay to be a failed male fakegirl faggot as long as it's honest with itself about it

time will tell how real this is for it but it feels right to milk itself to this

[hyenafu]

Hisuian Typhlosion helps another lost soul in the only way they know how... soul vore!

This time I decided to give Typhlosion a purple streak of hair to differentiate them a bit. I consider this Typhlosion to be a character of mine called Ube (they/them). They don't have much development; they pretty much just have a one track mind for catching and purifying souls lol

[spookyscarycreepydollgirl]

He groans in pleasure as he feels her soul beginning to struggle against his. He can taste all the parts of her he admires as though they are spread out across his tongue. As her physical body weakens inside his belly, her soul opens up to him, helpless and trapped on all sides by a stomach made to keep more than flesh.

“Oh Ida, you are every bit as beautiful as I knew you would be” He cooed, hunger and adoration intertwined.

Can she feel how beautiful she is to him? Or does his hunger overshadow that part of him even now? When all walls and secrets between them should be dissolving? He hopes not, he hopes his admiration sears her soul as deeply as his stomach acids sear her flesh. He hopes she drowns in his adoration, that she softens in his gratitude, that she is undone by his regard.

Her soul seems to recoil at the very idea that he feels so strongly. It is not that she does not desire him or recognise him. But rather, that she is afraid, afraid that his love will disappear if he sees any more of her, if he sinks his fangs too deeply into what makes her, Ida. She thinks he will reject her, that he will spit her out. She underestimates the depth of his hunger, the depth of his love. Even after he has licked clean every scrap of her, he is confident, he will never stop wanting more.

She cries out and whines as his stomach tightens, were she anyone else, it might have been simple fear, but here and now he senses that she is overwhelmed by the feelings inside him. She wants to be corrupted and overtaken, to drown in him and succumb to his twisted ravenous affection. She has never felt more loved and that truly scares her. She does not believe she deserves him.

Which is ridiculous, when it is he who does not deserve her. He is a monster, a predator, a hopeless glutton, who is at this very moment digesting the one person he values most in all the world. If she wants him as much as he wants her, who is he to deny her? To reject or abandon her? He is nothing but a simple minded spider, a gaping void of hunger that can never truly be fulfilled. If Ida wants him, all of him, then she has but to ask and he will lavish her in affection until she forgets where his love ends and she begins.

[mmmleckerlecker]

The Magic of Christmas

Summary: Santa grants you the gift of a full year in the North Pole with him. What you don’t realize is that YOU will end up being the true gift of Christmas.

Contents: m/?; fatal vore; willing pred; unwilling prey; size-difference; betrayal; painless digestion; long-term; a little bit of soul vore?

Wordcount: 2,398

* * * * * * * * * *

It’s the night of Christmas Eve, and you’re already curled up, fast asleep in bed. Until suddenly you are awoken by someone gently shaking your shoulder. You blink your eyes open and are startled to find someone standing above you. You gasp and sit up. The stranger in your room is dressed all in red and sports a great white beard. As you come to, you realize you’re looking at the man himself.

“Santa Claus!” you blurt. “What are you doing here?”

He smiles at you. His eyes are as twinkly and his cheeks are as rosy as all the stories say. He’s also much, much bigger than you ever expected. You wonder how he even fits down all those chimneys.

“I’ve been keeping an eye on you since you were a small child,” he explains, his voice warm and rumbling. “Not once have you been on my naughty list, and each year I’ve admired your kindness, thoughtfulness, and your ability to bring joy to other people’s lives. It’s because of this that I want to give you a very special gift this year.”

Your heart is pounding in your chest as you ask, “What is it?”

You’ve always known Santa to be real, even when all your friends grew up and stopped believing in him. And now, to not only get to meet him but to receive such high praise from him… it’s a dream come true.

“As a gift for your enduring generosity,” Santa begins, “I’d like to invite you to spend the next year with me in the North Pole.”

Your jaw drops. You’re so honored by the offer that it takes several stuttering attempts to say, “Yes! I mean, yes please!”

Santa lets out a quiet chuckle, each set of, “ho ho ho,” like music to your ears.

“Come,” he says, holding out a mittened hand. “Let’s go.”

You spend the rest of the night at his side, flying over the earth in his sleigh. You expect to be terrified by the height and speed, but you’re not. You’re exhilarated. There are even several times you stop at a house and Santa returns carrying carrots. He hands them to you and lets you feed the reindeer.

When you’re not feeding reindeer or waiting for Santa as he drops off gifts, the two of you are engaged in conversation. A lot of it is asking questions about the North Pole. Very often, Santa’s only response is, “You’ll see.”

As you talk, you can’t help but notice the faint scent of sugar cookies that emanates from him and the way he has a habit of dotingly rubbing his impressively round belly (like a bowl full of jelly). You don’t think too much of it, however. He’s Santa Claus and he’s everything you’ve ever dreamed of.

At the end of the night, you land in the North Pole and are greeted by hordes of cheerful elves. They’re smiling and laughing as they show you around Santa’s Village before guiding you to your new room where you promptly crawl into your marshmallow soft bed and fall asleep.

The next year goes by like a dream. All the elves make sure to meet your every need. Taking you on sleigh rides, inviting you to snowball fights, teaching you to ice skate, and then always making sure to bring you some cookies and hot chocolate after every meal.

Living in Santa’s village is like living Christmas every day and you couldn’t be happier.

There’s only one small thing that nags at you. And it’s Santa himself.

You see him quite regularly, and every interaction with him is as magical as the last. But as the year goes by, you notice that he starts to lose some of his… glow. The twinkle in his eye grows dim, the rosiness in his cheeks fades away, he loses his distinctive sugar cookie scent, and even his round belly grows smaller and smaller until there’s almost nothing left.

You’re too polite to comment on someone’s appearance, but you also don’t understand how this could be happening. Everything about the North Pole is invigorating and full of life. The longer you live here, the more you feel its influence. You can even see it when you look in the mirror. Each day, your reflection glows a little more brightly, so how could Santa be losing his own glow?

In the last few weeks leading up to Christmas, you truly begin to worry for Santa. At this point, if it weren’t for the beard and red suit, you wouldn’t even be able to tell he’s Santa at all. It’s like all the magic has gone out of him. But whenever you ask if he’s okay, he simply chuckles, pats your head, and assures you not to worry. But you do worry. You even ask the elves about it in hushed tones, but they just laugh and dismiss your concerns.

On the night of Christmas Eve, Santa’s workshop is a whirl of activity as everyone makes last minute preparations for the Big Night, yet Santa looks as un-Santa-like as ever. Still, no one seems concerned about this, least of all Santa. And amidst all the other hustle and bustle, the elves still manage to find time to prepare the grandest feast you have ever seen. Turkey and ham and potatoes and gravy and green beans and cookies and ice cream and cakes and pie.

In the final hour before Santa’s departure, everyone sits down to eat. You’re at the head of the table while Santa sits all the way across from you at the other end. Every dish you try is the tastiest thing you’ve ever eaten. Even more so than all you’ve had in the last year (and you’ve had a lot of good food in the past year.) You can’t help yourself as you try each dish at the table, going back for seconds and then going back for thirds on all you favorites.

The only thing that puts a damper on your spirit is that Santa himself doesn’t really touch his food. But the elves don’t seem perturbed. They’re all feasting away. And when Santa catches you watching him, he smiles that same warm smile at you, a ghost of a twinkle in his eye.

After that, you’re too embarrassed to be caught looking at him again. You put your head down and pretend nothing is amiss. It’s only when you’ve eaten so much you feel like you’re going to burst does the feast end.

As soon as it’s over, the elves swarm about, cleaning up the table. Meanwhile, you hang back, trying to stay out of the way and nervously waiting as Santa makes a few last minute adjustments before his trip. You know your year in the North Pole is nearly up. You know the time to say goodbye is fast approaching. Something tells you that you’ll never see this place again, and the very thought of it fills you with a terrible, aching sadness.

Finally, Santa approaches, and you know it’s time to go.

“Come with me,” he murmurs once he draws near. “There’s one last gift I need to finish and I want you to be a part of it.”

You blink in confusion as he beckons you to follow. This is not what you’d expected, but you’re not going to argue. If Santa needs your help, after all he’s done for you, the least you can do is comply. Besides, if it means staying here a little bit longer, you’ll happily go along with it.

A little uncertainly, you follow him away from all the elves and into Santa’s private workshop. You’ve never been in here before, and you marvel at the wonders within. So many beautifully and masterfully crafted toys. You wonder how in the world you can help with one of these gifts. They all seem perfect already.

You hardly notice when Santa shuts the door quietly behind you. Your attention only returns to him when he puts his hands on your shoulders and turns you to face him.

You swallow as he looks you up and down with his icy blue eyes.

“Wh- what’s the gift you need help with?” you ask, thrown off by the intensity of his gaze.

Instead of answering, he merely smiles again and says, “I’m so very proud of you for all you’ve done to inhabit the spirit of Christmas. If it weren’t for people like you, Christmas wouldn’t be able to happen at all.”

You feel the heat rise in your cheeks. Your heart is soaring with elation. You don’t think you’ve ever received such high praise. “Of course,” you squeak. “You’re welcome.”

“Merry Christmas, my child,” he mutters before leaning down and planting a light kiss on your forehead. You feel a little electric shock go through you from the contact.

And then your insides shift and you freeze as things take an unexpected turn. The kiss turns into something so much more, and suddenly you feel your entire head being engulfed by Santa’s mouth.

It’s only when he begins to swallow you down that you realize something is very wrong. You start to panic. You struggle and kick and beg to be released, but none of it has any effect. You just feel more and more of your body sliding down Santa’s throat and being crammed into his stomach. By the time your feet join you inside, you’re sobbing and fighting for your life. But it’s all in vain. You’re trapped.

After several long minutes of trying to escape, you tire yourself out, curl into a ball, and resign yourself to your fate.

You can’t believe this is happening. After so much wonder and magic, you end up here, betrayed by Santa, someone you’ve loved and trusted your whole life. And you thought he loved you in return.

At least it doesn’t feel too bad in here. It’s actually quite soft and warm with a sugary sweet smell. You’re reminded of that first night you’d met Santa and the sugar cookie scent that had followed him. You’d almost forgotten about that. It had disappeared so long ago…

And then you’re surprised when you feel someone rubbing at you from outside and hear Santa’s voice.

“There you go,” his voice rumbles all around you. “Just relax in there.”

“Santa!” you call and push back where you feel his hand. “Please!”

But Santa doesn’t miss a beat. “Unfortunately, I can’t let you out, but you’re giving the greatest gift anyone can give.”

You go still. “What do you mean?”

You’re not sure if he can hear you, but still he goes on to explain. “You see, I can’t actually produce my own magic. Instead, all magic in this world resides in you, in humans. You attract it to you and absorb it. Only you all cannot sense it or control it. But I can.

“So every year, to keep the magic of Christmas going, I must take the magic from a single human who best inhabits the spirit of Christmas. The past year you’ve spent here has only strengthened the magic within you. I’m sorry to do this, but it’s the only way to rekindle my magic. I hope you understand.”

You kick out and very colorfully explain that you don’t understand, but now you’re sure he can’t hear you because you only receive a distracted pat in response. It’s then you realize there’s nothing else you can do. This is how it ends for you.

You can feel every little movement as Santa leaves his workshop and climbs into his sleigh. And then, for the next few hours, you feel him squeezing through chimneys and stacking presents beneath trees. He doesn’t acknowledge your squirms and occasional kicks beyond a distracted rub and a comforting word. So you’re surprised when you suddenly hear what sounds like him conversing with someone else.

You strain your ears and are able to make out what Santa’s saying, “So as a gift for your enduring generosity, I’d like to invite you to spend the next year with me in the North Pole.”

You go still. You know those words.

Then you hear a muffled reply from whoever Santa is talking to, and before you know it, Santa is back in his sleigh with his new human. For the rest of the night, you listen to the two of them chatting amicably. You even overhear Santa telling them that they can feed the reindeer. And every once in awhile, you can feel Santa lovingly caress you within his stomach. You have flashbacks to one year ago when you were on the outside and witnessed him doing the same.

Then everything clicks together. You’re not the first to end up here. And you certainly won’t be the last.

And so the night comes to a close. You feel Santa return to the North Pole and listen to him bid his new human goodnight before heading to bed himself. As you will yourself to sleep too, you wonder how long this is going to last…

You end up remaining inside Santa for far longer than you expect. From what you can tell, you’re in there for months. You never feel any pain, but you can tell your physical body is slowly being broken down and absorbed. It gets harder and harder to find the strength to move, but every time you do, you’re once more met with a comforting rub and a few soft words.

As the months go by, not only do you lose the strength to move (you’re not even sure if there’s anything left of your physical body to move), but you find it harder and harder to stay conscious of what’s going on outside your little prison. But you’re roused just enough when you hear Santa say one last sentence to someone on the outside.

“I have one last gift to finish, and I want you to be a part of it.”

What little remains of your consciousness flutters a bit as you recognize those words and realize it must have been a full year now. It’s time for you to be replaced.

And just as you have this thought, you feel everything slip away, and you’re met with a void of endless darkness. There’s quiet and freedom. At last, you find peace.

[ltsmoving]

i've been vibing a lot with soul vore as of late.

part of that probably just comes down to me having the horns for ghosts in the first place, but i was never really a fan of soul vore until now.

just think, if you'll humour me, of being subjected to a horrendous death - a gruelling, grotesque, utterly embarrassing way to go. being eaten alive by someone just like you, reduced to a meal stewing away in someone's guts - to be tasted, enjoyed, and to satisfy. only the stars know if the greedy predator would be caught for their crimes against humanity.

but before you can finish brooding your shameful demise, looking down on your softening corpse as a spirit, your killer somehow sees you from beyond the realm of the living. an otherwise comforting acknowledgement that's ruined quickly: they're still hungry.

like clockwork, you're slipping down those tight, slick tubes of flesh, finding yourself in their cavernous, bottomless stomach (albeit, with some cold company this time) and feeling the crushing weight of a muscle craving undead meat.

it's all the same on your end, but the predator finds themself letting out more strained belches, breath smelling of rotting meat. they feel bloated and full of air, but nonetheless digesting 2 little snacks. even if both are technically the same person.

[sinfromlokislair]

maybe i am thinking abt angel preds huh WHAT OF IT....i just think that an angel so stuffed with souls they're supposed to be carting to heaven that they cant even fly and have to lie down and take a break, committing the sins of sloth and gluttony right there and feeling SO guilty about it but also SO good from all the wriggling souls in their gut that they might just indulge for a few seconds, rub their swollen tummy and shiver with excitement at the movements within

they'll get those souls to heaven eventually. might have to let a few out first so they can fly. but for now theyre a bit trapped and a bit unwilling to move on. not that that's a problem, when no one can see them and the souls dont know any better

[elgringomkposta]

Melascula makes a little visit to Kotaku island...

[mtftmeat]

had to focus on other things for a few days but i came out to all of my partners as a literal fakegirl (non-binary femboi malegirl who transitioned as kink and is staying on E to feminise himself and be a better trap) and got some much needed cock and ball worship from another fakegirl partner who's detransitioning with me the same way i am!!!!

we spent a day cuddling and touching each other's cocks and letting our malehood and faggotry consume us and i swear i felt him suck more of my soul out of my throbbing faggot dick,, accepting myself as an empty bimbo boi is so nice and i'm losing myself to the pleasure fully <3333 i'm a male, even if i'm a failed male, and i'm so so so happy that my partners all encouraged me to detransition and come out as a fakegirl <3

[hyenafu]

Hisuian Typhlosion purifies lost spirits with soul vore. It's 100% canon!

[spookyscarycreepydollgirl]

You know the neat thing about soul vore as a concept? From the perspective of a predator their prey is still there with them, but to observers the predator can seem mad.

The idea of a mutual friend or acquaintance of the predator and prey struggling to understand how the predator who to all appearances had loved the prey could have eaten them.

The predator is just like “Together forever :3” but the observer is having an existential crisis about everything they thought they knew about this person they thought they understood.

[starlightgirl242]

Voretober Day 25: Ethereal

”Kaiju Night Funkin’ and Kaiju Soul Boyfriend” belongs to @kaiju-wolfdragon. (Happy Early Birthday!)

Agent Specter, in his ghost state, is inspecting Kaiju Soul BF’s stomach and he is amazed at seeing the beauty of the belly of the ethereal beast.

(Illustrator’s Note: Agent Specter has a wearable device called the “Phantom Belt”. It allows the user to transform into a ghost and gains special abilities like flight, walking through walls, turn invisible, etc.)

[munch-o-rama]

reposting bcs Tumblr thought original post was too sexy to be sfw/j

[teal-fiend]

post ghost hunting

[plumpling]

Yummy souls

Commission!

[eldritchnoms]

CW: soul vore, digestion, reformation

I have an OC called "Soul Keeper".

He is Beholder's best friend and they work together very often. Soul Keeper's job is to catch and save innocent souls who met a very unfortunate fate of being eaten- He then brings them to Beholder so he could reform them and return to their home.

Keeper is a bit weird, but a very kind and cheerful guy. Helping others is his passion. But besides that he is also very interested in fashion, sculpting and carving. A lot of decor around Beholder's Temple is of his work.

When he saves souls he swallows them and keeps in his belly, warm, cuddly and safe. He often sings songs for them so they wouldn't panic and would know a help is on its way. If a soul still panics a lot he moves them to a special, protected bottle he keeps always on himself. After souls are reformed he tends to them, patches any wounds if those are left, supports and helps people mentally, makes sure that before they return they feel at least good.

Keeper will definitely make a friendship bracelet for you if you get close with him.