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[voraciousvore]

Giganterra (Chapter 17)

Prologue/ TOC | Previous (16) | Next (coming Thursday)

Content Warning: Vore themes/ mentions

Word Count: 2.2k

------ Chapter 17: Chef Cruor ------

Chef Cruor was tired. He was always tired, right down to the marrow of his bones. His joints and ligaments cracked and popped whenever he moved, the inevitable result of a lifetime of grueling manual labor. His feet were sore from carrying his weight, and his back, neck, and shoulders ached from stooping and lifting. His hands were roughened and scarred from working around heat, harsh chemicals, and sharp objects. Even the skin on his waxen face sagged from weariness. 

Cruor had one passion that made life worth living, and that was cooking. He practiced his art with a fervency that belied his constant state of exhaustion. He’d worked hard to claw his way up to the position he was in today. As a royal chef, he had the privilege of access to the highest quality ingredients, including unusual and exotic culinary treasures from faraway lands, and the most state-of-the-art equipment. Sometimes, he even had the opportunity to experiment and craft new masterpieces for consumption. 

Unfortunately, he paid a high price for his position. His job sucked. His boss, Bucky, was a slave driver who was incessantly rushing him, nagging, heckling, and cursing him out. The brute didn’t have an eye for quality, and only cared about production. He forced Cruor to perform menial tasks, such as mopping the floors and washing dishes, when all he wanted to do was cook and create. Bucky failed to understand that Cruor was not a mere kitchen worker, but a suffering artist. 

Furthermore, his talents were wasted on the unsophisticated palates of the royal family. The king cared more about the taste of the humans in his food than the food itself. Crown Prince Ronny always found a reason to complain about his meals and threw tantrums over the most petty problems. Princess Bianca was exceedingly picky, and ate like a bird. Essentially, his perfect food creations were fed to swine. 

Regardless, Cruor put his soul into his cooking. This morning was no different, as he meticulously garnished crêpes cooked to perfection, mixed batter for scones, and sliced fruit into artistic shapes. Bucky came up behind him and slapped a meaty paw on his shoulder. 

“You’re wasting time, Cruor,” he chided. “The fruit will taste the same regardless of how it’s cut.” 

“Presentation matters,” Cruor sniffed derisively.  

Bucky rolled his eyes. “Just hurry up and get it done. The royals will be up soon and they’re expecting breakfast in bed.” 

“Yeah, whatever,” Cruor mumbled, shrugging off Bucky’s hand with annoyance. He hastened to plate the food, trying his best to strike a balance between efficiency and visual appeal as he arranged the various entrées. He made sure the strawberry slices that he cut into hearts and stars were displayed on the top, with the other berries buried under the cream. Once he was satisfied, he sent the trays out and began cleaning up his station. 

His pride switched to dismay when Ronny’s tray returned in ruins, with shattered dishes and splattered food. “What happened?” Cruor asked the prince’s servant. “Did he not enjoy the food?” 

The servant scoffed and threw up his hands. “Who knows? You know how he is. He threw one of his little tantrums and smashed everything all over the walls and carpet.” He rolled his eyes. 

“Oh.” Cruor let out a long, fatigued sigh that seemed to drain all his remaining energy. He attempted to console himself with the fact that he at least wouldn’t have to wash the destroyed plates. He tossed the broken shards in the trash, wiped down the tray, and started prepping for lunch. Soon after, Princess Bianca’s maid came in with a tray that had hardly been touched, excluding the crêpes. Cruor looked over the spread and furrowed his brow. 

“Did she say anything about the food?” he inquired. “Was there something wrong with it?” 

The maid shrugged. “No. She was more interested in tormenting her little men. She rolled one up in a crêpe and ate him alive.” 

“I see.” Cruor slumped his shoulders. He didn’t expect praise by any means from the spoiled princess, but he was dejected that his hard work had gone unnoticed and unappreciated. The fruit pieces had sunk into the bowl of cream, becoming soggy as the juices leeched out. The scones, biscuits, and eggs didn’t have a single bite. He was annoyed that his cooking had been upstaged by the flavor of some stupid little humans instead. 

The same seemed to be the case with the king’s breakfast. King Richard had eaten well, but the servant reported he was distracted the entire time, playing with his tiny women and feeding them, so he probably didn’t pay much attention to the quality of the meal. Cruor wilted as he morosely gazed down at the spread of leftovers, particularly Bianca’s tray. He didn’t want the food to be wasted, but by now it had been sitting out for too long in the open air, and was probably cold and stale. He glanced over at the human enclosures. Nobody had fed the prisoners yet. Perhaps he could dispose of the scraps that way. Maybe they would be more grateful, to at least be fed a good meal despite their harrowing confinement. 

Cruor broke off a generous chunk of a sugary pastry and deposited it in Eren’s tank. The human within looked half-feral, with the way she was glowering at him, so he retracted his fingers before she could bite or scratch him. She cursed at him in a squeaky voice, shook her fist, and spat on the glass with contempt. He leaned down and watched to see if she would eat, but she kicked the doughy mass away with her tiny foot instead and crossed her arms in defiance. Cruor frowned and moved on to the next tank. 

He gave Jackie a piece of flaky biscuit. She jumped when she saw the giant chef looming over her and crammed herself in the corner of her terrarium with her back to the glass. He observed her for a minute to see if she would eat, but she was too terrified. Her eyes, wide enough for him to see the whites even with her diminutive stature, remained glued to his face. Her little noodle arms and legs vibrated like rubber bands. Obviously, she wasn’t going to show any interest in the food. 

Cruor bestowed another tidbit upon the next tank. Iris didn’t respond at all, didn’t even raise her head as she laid there like a slug. She didn’t care anymore and felt nothing. Cruor figured this particular human would need to be disposed of soon; her flavor wouldn’t last, when she lacked vitality and enthusiasm for food as she did. She was in the end stages: Cruor had witnessed it enough times before to recognize the signs. 

The dejected chef fed the remaining humans, who responded in similar ways to the first three, with various levels of indifference, fear, or resentment. Chef Cruor became more and more depressed with each rejection. Nobody appreciated his talents, not even the living food ingredients. He exhaled wearily and began dumping the rest of the leftovers into the trash.  

He had one more scone to get rid of when he recalled the scraggly human he’d isolated last night. He needed to feed her too, but he doubted she would eat much. With how emaciated she was, she was probably sick or on some sort of hunger strike. He might have to force-feed her to prevent her from dying, a task that he did not enjoy in the least. He crumbled off a corner of the frosted scone and padded over to an inconspicuous shelf in a less trafficked area of the kitchen. He’d trapped her in a jar and placed her there. 

Addison looked scrawny and pitiful, slumped to the side with her ribs and hip bones visible under her stretched skin. Her eyes were dull and shrunken into her pale, gaunt face. She didn’t notice Cruor at first, when she was wandering alone in her troubled thoughts, so he took the opportunity to examine her while she held still. When he turned her over in his hands yesterday, he’d noticed small blemishes all over her skin, especially on her back, that he only realized now were scars. His curiosity was piqued over how a frail young woman like her was more scarred than a battle-hardened soldier. 

He picked up the jar and unscrewed the lid. The human inside jolted, shirking away from the gigantic hand that encircled the glass around her. Cruor figured she probably would be too scared to eat if he continued to hold the jar, so he set it on the counter with a thunk that made Addison bounce. He dropped in the crumb of food, fully expecting the skeletal human to ignore the food or refuse to eat. 

To his shock, the thin girl leapt forward, snatched the sweet treat with both hands, scrambled back, and tore into it with the fervency of a starving animal. She seemed to forget the giant chef was present as she lost herself in sweet bliss, savoring the delightful flavor and fluffy texture. Cruor lowered himself to his knees in amazement, ignoring the uncomfortable protest of his joints popping, so his eyes were level with the jar on the countertop. Her face, vacuous and wan before, now glowed with lively relief. 

Cruor gaped as he saw wet sparkles on her cheeks and realized she was crying. She was crying with joy. “Thank you...” she murmured. The giant had to lean in to hear her soft, small voice. “Thank you so much... I was so hungry...” 

Cruor was dumbfounded. Nobody had ever cried over his cooking before. During the span of his entire employment in the royal kitchen, he had never received any thanks—not from his boss Bucky, not from humans or servants, and certainly not from the giant royals. All he got for the blood, sweat, and tears he poured into his job, for the passion and heart he baked into his creations, were complaints and criticisms. Until now, nobody had acknowledged his talent.  

He slowly backed away from the jar, so as not to startle the fragile woman, before hopping to his feet with excitement and hurrying off to grab the rest of the scone. He plucked off another chunk and dropped it into the jar, watching as she scarfed it down with alacrity. To see a person enjoy his cooking as much as she did wiped out his disappointment from earlier. 

He kept feeding her tiny pieces until she couldn’t eat any more, and her tiny concave belly had filled out into a cute bump. “That was so good,” she squeaked, patting her belly and blushing under Cruor’s eager gaze. His eyes were as big as she was, gleaming with exhilaration, and so close that she could see the tinge of violet in his dark irises. She still felt anxious around him, but the relief of finally sating her tortuous hunger outweighed her fright. Besides, he didn’t seem like he intended to hurt her or snatch her up, at least not at the moment.  

Her blood ran cold when she saw the colossal figure of Bucky stomp over behind Cruor. He grabbed Cruor by his knobby shoulder, making the happy chef’s grin morph into a grimace. “Cruor! What are you doing?” 

“Just feeding the humans,” Cruor answered, maneuvering his aching joints back into a standing position. He turned to face Bucky. 

Bucky squinted at him, puzzled. “What’s gotten into you? I’ve never seen you like this...” Cruor’s eyes were still sparkling with the enthusiasm of a child over his triumph. Bucky watched the light drain from his eyes at the remark, to be replaced with the dull fatigue he was more accustomed to. 

“N-nothing...” Cruor mumbled with mild embarrassment, rubbing his sore neck awkwardly. 

“Well, quit fooling around and get back to work!” the head chef barked, stabbing his fat finger into Cruor’s chest. “We don’t have all day!” 

“Yes, sir,” Cruor replied, deflating. Bucky gave him a suspicious glance before lumbering away to harass Chef Gore. Cruor turned back to the counter and picked up the jar reverently. Addison stared up at him as he screwed the lid back on and returned the jar to its spot on the shelf. 

“I’ll be back later, little one, don’t you worry,” he assured her, tracing the tip of his finger down the side of the glass. “I’ll be sure to prepare you something filling. Something special.” Addison brightened at the prospect. She may have stuffed her stomach full, but her body was still malnourished. She’d never eaten a snack as delicious as that scone she’d been blessed with, and she was desperate for more. She nodded. 

Cruor felt like skipping like a giddy schoolgirl as he hustled over to his station and began plucking a flock of freshly-killed pheasants for lunch. His hands moved mechanically over his work out of habit, but his mind was elsewhere. He was floating in the clouds. Somebody actually appreciated his art for once. He brainstormed fresh recipes he could feed the human that she would like. It would be difficult to plate a meal so small, but he was up to the challenge. 

Chapter 18 (coming Thursday)

[voraciousvore]

Giganterra (Chapter 16)

Prologue/ TOC | Previous (15) | Next (coming Monday)

Content Warning: soft, safe, unwilling vore; sexual themes; vulgar language

Word Count: 2.3k

------ Chapter 16: Contradiction ------

Bianca knew the apothecary with the magic potions was located down in the basement, though she had never been there personally. Glancing around to ensure nobody was observing her, she descended the stone steps into the dank dungeons below. The air was colder down here, and musty from lack of ventilation. The sound of her footsteps pinged off the walls, accompanied by the slow, steady drip of water into a pool somewhere underground. Crackling torches mounted on the walls provided dim, eerie light that made the shadows stretch and dance as if they had a will of their own. 

She made it to the bottom of the staircase to find a hallway that stretched into the darkness, lined with wooden doors half-rotted from the damp atmosphere. The unsettling silence was punctuated by the occasional creepy echo, warped beyond recognition as it reverberated down the long passageway. Bianca tiptoed down the hall with an uneasy feeling in her gut, accentuated by the occasional kick from Gio as he fought against her viscera. She found the correct door and opened it with a grating squeal. 

Bianca was greeted by the crash of glass breaking. “Confound it!” a male voice swore from within. “Don’t you know how to knock?” She found herself in a gloomy room that was more like a cave, with sloping, uneven walls carved out of the bedrock and an earthen floor. The cavern was cramped and cluttered with stacks of dusty tomes; papers, ink wells, and quills scattered about; beakers, glass vials, mixers, and other lab equipment; and a variety of colorful glowing potions lining the shelves. She recognized the blue anti-digestion serum among the collection. 

The giant who was swearing at her turned around, a broken glass beaker soaked with fluid in hand. He was very tall and muscular, with green eyes and dull rusty hair. When he saw Bianca, his eyes widened and he dropped the beaker again, completely shattering it. “P-princess!” He clumsily dropped to his knees, head lowered. “I-I’m sorry for any disrespect! I didn’t realize...” He grimaced as shards of glass embedded his knees. 

“It’s fine,” the princess cut him off, waving her hand dismissively. “I require your services.” 

“Of course! To what do I owe the pleasure? I, Hunter, am your loyal servant.” Hunter stood back up, not bothering to attend to his bloody knees or his mess. He still worried that he had offended her with his sharp, uncouth tongue. He’d never met the princess in person before, so he wasn’t entirely sure how she would react, though he was familiar with her unpalatable reputation through whispered gossip among the servants. He hoped his pitiful groveling would be enough to spare him. 

“I require a healing potion,” Bianca demanded, not bothering with any pleasantries. 

“Yes, Your Highness,” Hunter agreed. He wiped his sticky hands on his clothes, frowning with thinly veiled irritation, and searched for the correct potion on his shelves. Bianca couldn’t resist poking around as she examined her surroundings with curiosity.  

“Your Highness,” Hunter said, bowing his head respectfully as he offered her a vial containing a bright tangerine potion. “You put a few drops on the affected area; it takes a few hours but it should heal any nonfatal wounds.” He crunched up his brows. The princess didn’t seem to be injured, and he’d surmised from secondhand sources that she wasn’t the type to have any compassion for others, but he knew better than to inquire further. 

Bianca took the potion without so much as a thank you. She was distracted as she stared at a locked case, walled off with metal bars, harboring small bottles of a sparking lime potion. “What’s that?” 

“Oh... shrinking potion,” Hunter answered in a low tone, almost reverently, as if it were some great secret.  

Bianca’s eyes gleamed. “Ooooh! Can I get some?” 

Hunter repressed a scowl, schooling his features into a neutral expression. “Unfortunately, Your Highness... King Richard has strict orders that he alone shall have access to those, and nobody else, not even other members of the royal family. You’d have to take it up with him, I’m afraid.” 

“I see.” Bianca paused. She knew her father was paranoid about any potential betrayal, especially after her eldest brother had disappeared. “Not even as a favor for me? It could be our little secret.” She giggled and subtly leaned in, striking a flirtatious pose. 

Hunter backed up a step, his forehead becoming shiny with perspiration. He was fully aware a capricious royal could be lethal when incensed. “I apologize, but I would be obligated to disclose it to King Richard if I gave you any. I’d rather not lose my head, Your Highness...” He pulled at his collar nervously. Bianca’s grin faded into a petulant pout. Hunter was already tense and flustered, but his face flamed red as he noticed that her breasts were jiggling of their own accord. To his shock, tiny hands emerged from her cleavage and a human male’s face popped out, followed by his shoulders and chest. The little shirtless man gasped for breath, also sweaty from her body heat. 

Hunter’s expression morphed into a glower of hatred and disgust. “Ugh, a human. Gross,” he uttered thoughtlessly. Bianca glared at him with fiery wrath, and Hunter bit his lips and retreated back another step. “My apologies...” 

Bianca huffed and stuffed Graham back into the soft crevice between her boobs. She considered pushing the issue further, but she wasn’t foolish or suicidal enough to cross her father. She turned on her heel, with the healing potion in hand, and stormed out, slamming the door hard enough behind her to knock a few bottles off the shelves. Once she was gone, Hunter scowled and began to clean up the mess. 

“Entitled bitch,” he muttered to himself. “Can’t stand royalty…” He grabbed some forceps to pick bloody slivers of glass out of his knees. He resented having to grovel like a submissive dog before his superiors, but the pay was too good and the position too cushy to deny. Besides, he couldn’t leave even if he wanted to. He came from a long, noble bloodline of magic-users, with a tradition of service to the equally ancient Hardon bloodline. Their service was institutionalized to the point where leaving would be treason. The secrets of magic were guarded jealously and hoarded by the royal family; exposing those secrets or abandoning his post would inevitably result in his death. He didn’t want to cause trouble; he simply wanted to live in seclusion and practice his craft. 

Bianca was in turmoil as she returned to her chambers. A spike of regret burrowed into her core, as she regarded the healing potion in her hand. Was she making a mistake? She was supposed to be ruthless, to not be susceptible to weak sentiments of compassion and generosity. She was taught and raised to be this way. So why did she care now? Why did she experience irrational empathy for her inferiors? And humans, no less? Like servants, they were only supposed to exist for her personal use. They weren’t worthy of her care. 

The tiny kicks in her stomach and cleavage sent her further into remorse, as if she had done something wrong. Anger flared up inside her. She entered her boudoir and ripped her necklace from her chest, glaring at the sweaty nude man who shook pathetically under her stern gaze. He looked so sad, so broken and afraid and helpless. Bianca gritted her teeth, unclasped him from the necklace, and tossed him into his enclosure. The other human, the handsome darker one, smiled up at her. The giantess turned away sharply, not wanting to allow any softer feelings to enter her heart. 

She felt embarrassed, another foreign experience for the shameless princess, as the two humans watched her extract Gio from her stomach. He was barely able to hang on to the rope, with only one functional arm and his other arm alive with agony. By the time he exited her mouth, he was nearly unconscious from the narrow constriction of her throat, despite her best efforts to be gentle. Even though he was filthy after marinating in digestive acids and saliva, Bianca scooped him up in her graceful palms with the intention to clean him off with her own hands: a chore that she considered below her station, but was too mortified to request her maid to do in the moment. 

Gio was too weak to protest as she carefully washed him. She tried not to manipulate his broken arm too much, but he still howled with pain every time she touched it. When she dried him off with a fluffy towel, he was almost in tears. 

“Please… stop…” he croaked, scarcely audible. “You’re making it worse…” Bianca was trying to rein in her empathy, but his plaintive little voice, pleading for clemency, made her heart bleed. He didn’t even try to struggle as she cradled his small, fragile body with her fingers. Her resolve to crush down her feelings weakened.  

“Here… this should help,” she murmured gently, splashing a single drop of the bright orange salve on his swollen arm. Gio was surprised to feel a pleasant, warm tingling through the limb, numbing the pain. “It should heal your bone.” 

“Heal?” Gio repeated in disbelief. After all the horrible abuses he’d suffered at her hands, he distrusted that she’d bother to tend to his wound at all. She set him back down in his house on the soft cushion of one of the beds. She gazed down at him with an inscrutable expression before closing the roof lid and striding off. She needed time to think, to process; she didn’t want to look at her pets. 

Gio sighed, rubbing his arm. He was glad at least that the pain had receded, but he was exhausted. He laid on the bed and closed his eyes with a shuddering breath. Visions of claustrophobic flesh walls compressing and pulsing around him flashed through his head in a phantasmagorical display. Being eaten had been a living nightmare; he couldn’t believe he’d miraculously survived. 

“See, what did I tell you? He’s fine!” Cesar proclaimed. Graham shook his head in exasperation. 

Gio opened his eyes. “Fine?” He sat up, incensed and offended by the callous remark. “Are you fucking kidding me? I’m about as far away from fine as I can possibly get!” This was technically not a true statement, but Gio wasn’t in the mood for splitting hairs. 

“But… she healed your arm, didn’t she?” 

“So what? She ATE me, Cesar! Swallowed me whole!” 

“And you deserved it for mouthing off to her! Lucky you for being spared!” 

“Quit making excuses for her! Are you stupid?” 

“Maybe.” Cesar laughed. “I’m sorry, I can’t help it.” A dreamy look came over his face. “Gosh, she’s so hot… I think I’m in love…” 

Graham, with his nude body coated in sweat and his wet hair glued to his head, couldn’t take it anymore as he listened to Cesar’s idiocy. He snapped. He grabbed Cesar’s shoulders and violently slammed him against the wall. “Stop it!” he snarled. “Shut UP!” 

“What? Everything I said was true.” 

“Wake up to reality, man! Don’t you understand the situation we’re in? We’ve been stripped of our clothes, our humanity, and our dignity! We’re nothing more than playthings living in a toy house! We have no protection! She can do whatever she wants, even kill us if it pleases her! We’re screwed!” 

“Well-” 

“And stop singing her praises! Who cares if she’s hot? She’s a selfish, barbaric monster!” 

“But-” 

“No buts! Don’t you understand? She doesn’t even see you as a person! Stop defending her deplorable behavior! Look what she did to Gio and me! Do you think a nice person would do something like that?” 

He burned holes in Cesar with his searing glare. Cesar faltered, averting his gaze. “…No. I suppose not.” He glanced up. “But she did heal him-” 

Graham let out a howl of frustration and threw up his hands. “There’s no reasoning with you! I might as well be banging my head against a brick wall!” He flopped down on his bed in a huff. 

Cesar wilted as the moment dragged out. He sat on the bed, on the opposite side, and folded his hands together. “You… you might be right,” he admitted. “I just came all this way to see her, to live out this fantasy… I’d hate to admit that I was in error.” He hung his head. “I don’t think she even likes me, to be honest…” 

Graham exhaled forcefully. He was done listening. “I’m going to go wash up,” he grumbled, and stomped off. 

While the humans were arguing amongst themselves, Bianca ran into her brother Ronny wandering the castle corridors. He grunted in passing, but she halted his progress by blocking his path. “Ugh, what do YOU want?” Ronny growled. 

“I have a question for you,” Bianca said. 

Ronny gave her his characteristic sour glare. “Make it quick.” 

“What do you think of your new human?” 

“Huh?” Ronny fumbled to recall what she was referring to. “Oh, that thing. I dunno. I just left her in her cage.” 

“You… didn’t take her out, or talk to her?” 

“No. Why would I? I didn’t even want the damned thing.” 

“Oh…” 

“Was that all you wanted?” He crossed his arms over his chest indignantly. Bianca nodded. “Then get out of my way.” She stepped aside and allowed him to go. Yet again, she was heavily conflicted. She didn’t know how to navigate her convoluted web of emotions, so many of which felt so wrong, in blatant contradiction to her upbringing. 

Chapter 17 (coming Monday)

[voraciousvore]

*Repost* Ever feel like you are being watched?

[voraciousvore]

In the Hands of my Tormentor

Yelloooooo! Been a lil bit since I've posted any writing! Been a bit hard getting much written with life and work at the moment but I had this random g/t thought and ran with it to get this lil fic. So enjoy another random oc created for the purpose of this fic lol.

Premise: You've been transported to another world where giants see humans as lesser and have ended up the pet of a Count.

cw: Fear, fear of death, fatal scenes mentioned, panic, mentions of being eaten alive, death mentions (no one dies tho), anxiety, torture, manipulation. Just the opposite of what I usually post lol. wc: 2318

Terror. 

That’s all I could feel as I watched in horror as the giant noble scarfed down their meal. Giant fangs tearing through meat 100x my size, as if it was sliced bread. I forced myself to not react as I heard them swallow, knowing full well should they tire of me- their pet, I may very well be the next one sliding down that wretch’s throat. 

In this world, Giants didn’t see anything smaller than them as intelligent. If you were found, the lucky ones either died or were crushed between teeth as big as boulders like food. And if you think ‘How’s that lucky?! That’s horrid!’ Be glad you’re not the one being digested alive.

But even that was a mercy compared to my fate. 

Every day I tread the thin line of a tightrope; a timer hanging over my head. Forced to live life as a performance, every step perfect in order to please my Master.

“TWIRL!” He’d demand.

“JUMP!” He’d spit.

“SING!” He’d sneer- and I’d do it without hesitation or face death itself.

For as humiliating as it was, being ‘keep’ worthy; even for a derogatory laugh, it was better than being deemed useless and ready for brutal discarding. And with how little manic glee he’d been having with me lately, that may be sooner than not. For if I have no worth, what’s stopping them from doing away with me?

Tonight I was on display at another one of their dinner parties. Parties they threw more to show their class standing and possessions than for company. Sometimes I’d be in a cage forced to sing like a songbird, other times I’d be kept on the table with a ribbon clamped around my ankle to perform tricks or be petted by gloved fingers.

The guests would often have varying responses at my presence.

“Such a rare delicacy humans are and you're wasting it as a pet?”

“What a wretched little thing it is. Why not just eat it and be done?”

“As amusing as it is, why keep it around when it’s a better snack?”

After a while, you learn to tune out the loud voices. It’s just a reminder I’m only seen as food, insignificant, a pest. I only listen to the Master's voice. He’s the only one that matters. I sit just to his right today. The ribbon on my ankle is too tight, and I can feel the way my foot has started to go numb from the lack of blood flow. I look at it absentmindedly, the phantom pain of a blade forced against an angry scar, throbs against the ribbon. Strange I can’t feel my foot and yet still feel the pain of past escapes. I stopped trying a long time ago. Better to submit then endure his sick pleasures again.

I try not to think about the will I’ve given up; the life I’ve submitted to and try to listen to the giants conversing overhead.

Had it not been for the size difference and ignorance to the obvious, the giants were just like us. Take away all the power-hungry madness and torture of the little guy and the giants were just like humans if they were living in a medieval fantasy. Perhaps in another world, I would have been one of the guests…

“Dance, Human.” Master demands, and I stand and let my body move the way I know it pleases the giant. I don’t even think about the steps anymore, I just let myself move as if I were a robot programmed with the steps.

The giants above me laugh, clap and snicker. I know I’ve done my dance right. They’re all talking around the table, some whispering to each other with cruel gazes locked on my form. Others are spitting profanities at me and joking to my Master about making me do more tricks. 

There was only one giant that didn’t seem interested in my suffering. They sat at the opposite end of the table silently, and hadn’t moved much beyond drinking from their cup. I didn’t pay them much mind. One less giant drooling over me was a blessing. 

I let their voices blend together as I continued to move, the only voice I was listening for was my Masters, and I knew he was grinning ear to ear with all the attention on his greatest possession. 

His rare and desirable human.

“Now sing.” He says sickeningly sweet and my mouth obeys as I sing old scales used to warm up my voice whilst I continue to dance.

He never said I could stop.

I don’t know how long this continued for, the time always blurred together with every order and step at these events. All I know is the giants are enjoying it for the time being and all hungry eyes are on me. I will do as they want till I’m so desirable, that Master snatches me away- just teasing the lessers with what they can’t have. I can see the manic glee in their eyes at being so close to myself. I know what they want, and I scold my expression to not let the fear show on my face. 

My legs ached, but I pushed on; my voice wasting away from overuse. Everything was starting to burn from the effort it took to do both. I sang a long high note and began to spin, a bad combo but my brain was on autopilot. How much longer till I collapse?

“Stop.” Master demanded; my saving grace but not by much. I stopped immediately, finishing the pirouette and ceasing my song. I didn’t dare move despite my labored breathing, fully aware that the command wasn’t just for me, for in the corner of my eye I saw it. 

An outstretched white, gloved hand reached for me- and it was not my Masters.

That was all that was said before the ribbon around my ankle yanked me back, sending me tumbling forward as I was reeled in. I kept my head down, biting my tongue to stop myself from screaming as I felt the glazed wooden table burn against my hands and knees as I was dragged. My performance was done. And so was the fool of a giant that had tried to take me. 

Or so I thought.

Giants had tried to take me from Master before that was a given, but I was his snack (as he liked to remind me) and those that had tried to take what was his, had been dragged out shrieking. But this one had the room silent. Someone with a demanding presence other than my Master had the room freeze.

“So Ed,” 

“That’s Count Edwin, to you.” Master spat at the other Giant.

“May I remind you who the Duke is here, Count Edwin.” the Duke replied nonchalantly, taking a sip of his drink. I saw the way the Master's hand tensed at the notion. 

He was irritated. 

Very few had the nerve to undermine him and make it out unscathed. So far nothing had happened to this Duke, which made him a threat.

“I understand you invited me here tonight to make a deal.” The Duke asked.

“Yes, that’s correct.” The grit in the Master's voice confirmed my suspicions. He’d interrupted his showing off. They were treading on thin ice. 

“I wish to put a natural water irrigation system to my crops from the south river. The river in question however, borders the edge of your land and in order for me to utilize it, would require access to your land.”

“And you want me to allow your filthy hands access to my river.” The Duke remarked.

Master's hand tightened on his utensils. Whoever this man was really had the Giant getting into a tizzy, which was never good for me. For all the time that I’d been here, it was very rare that anyone dared to go up against Master, let alone insult him. I felt a slight sense of justice from the thought. Even if it would never be me to do it, at least someone would knock them off their high horse.

I couldn’t help but glance up to see what such a person looked like and was surprised by what I saw. It was the uninterested giant from before.

Just like their attitude, the Giants' features matched their blunt, cold attitude. Jet black, side swept hair and dressed in a navy blue velvet coat, adorned with gold trims and fine sapphires bigger than my head, the Duke- the most regal man I’d ever seen in all my life, was listening to my Master with an icy cold stone stare. 

The man seemed bored of this tedious exchange and I could tell their patience was beginning to run thin as my Master blabbered on and on about the Giants river.

I wondered how long the fire would build behind the Duke’s eyes before their tolerance met its peak, and would put my Master in their place. For once I was glad they paid me no mind.

“I have much gold to offer in return for the river and with the greater yields we would produce, I’m happy to offer 5% of the total harvest.” Master’s smile curled into a grin as they folded their hands. They did that whenever something they wanted was about to go their way.

I averted my gaze back to my feet at this. They always got mad when they caught me staring. How sad I knew what his tells were.

“While your offer is good Edwin, as a Duke with the amount of land I have, your offer is insignificant to me. Why give you access to my river when I produce five times the amount you yield in a year?”

Master lost his composure at that, clearly not expecting such a response. Unsurprising when he acts like a toddler who has never been told no. “Well yes but-” 

“If you expect me to share such a precious resource, I expect a greater sum.” The Duke cut him off. “Or an offer with something of rarity to actually compensate for the price. Something like…” 

No. No, he can’t mean…

The duke took a sip from his cup as if contemplating, but only a fool didn’t know he’d already made up his mind the second he set eyes on me.

“That human.”

The Duke slammed the cup down, hitting the table with a clink as my head shot up and snapped straight to the Duke, my worst fears confirmed reality. The Duke’s ice blue eyes bore into my small figure. If I thought my grubby Master was scary then the Duke was sheer terror. 

His eyes pierced my very soul pinning me in place, and I stared straight back, unable to hide the terror on my face despite the consequences. Though it could have just been adrenaline, I swear I saw their eyes soften when they noticed my expression change, though it did little to put me at ease. His presence was terrifying and it hit me then why the room was so quiet. Why Master was so mad he had no control over this Giant.

This was a man with power.

I knew if I was what it wanted, then no one would be stupid enough to say no twice. Everyone in the room knew what his eyes were locked on. 

“You want me to trade my human, for access to the river?” The Count replied as he dragged me closer, pulling me away from my terror. “That hardly seems fair seeing how incredibly rare and delightful they are. It’s just about bored me enough that I'm peckish. I love to break their spirits just enough that they’re kicking and screaming to the end.” 

At this, I was flung into the air with a yelp before the Count caught me in a harsh grip. I cried out in pain as he squeezed my ribs tight to the point I was sure they’d break.

“It would be a waste to let all this time go to not enjoy them myself.”

“It’s the human or nothing.” The Duke insisted. “You have nothing more that I want.”

I risked looking up at the Duke again, the fire in his eyes seemed to have tripled. “It’s as you said, humans are incredibly rare. Are they truly worth a yearly supply of better income?”

My Masters hand began to squeeze tighter around me and I’m only lucky that the air had been forced out of my lungs enough before I could scream. His anger being directed on the only thing he could control in the moment, only for the pressure to leave as quickly as it came and I found myself falling.

“Deal.” 

And that was the only warning I had before everything flashed a violent white. My whole body was in complete and utter agony and yet I couldn’t even scream. I could feel silent tears dripping down my face as my vision began to dance with black blurry spots. This is where I died.

Everything felt cold, until it wasn’t. 

I felt myself engulfed in pure warmth as careful hands moved and cradled my broken body. I could hear muffled voices shouting and moving before the slamming of a door ceased all else. Dark blobs broke in between the black and I knew deep down I was in the Duke’s hands, but the soft warmth they provided blurred all other judgment. I hadn’t been warm- truly warm since I’d been brought here, and yet somehow I was now at ease. 

Perhaps it was just my mind twisting the truth as a last mercy to let me die peacefully.

“Rest now,” A voice whispered over head as the world faded to black. “I’ve got you now.” 

Funny how my mind could create such a promise after so much pain…

✩₊˚.⋆⋆⁺₊✧ ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ✩₊˚.⋆⋆⁺₊✧

Don't worry, the Duke's actually the good guy in this lol. I have it head cannoned that he fixes them all up and helps them get home.

I may write onto this, I might not who knows! The fact I've written in a different pov to me is wild though! Thank you to squishy, xyz and especially munchkin for beta reading this. (Seriously savior on my grammar qwp) Thank you if you read this far and I hope you enjoyed!!!!

Tag List Link here: @local-squishmallow @brick-a-doodle-do @justarandomsloth @veryfunkycheesecake @munchkin1156 @kayla-crazy-stuffs @da3dm @eiscreme135 @orchid-harmony @the-tiny-lurker @colossal-red @nobodywritingao3 @nata2343 @bad-author777 @crazyfoxgirl10 @guppybubbles

(also side note: other wips are still being written. I am aware JORNOS has not updated in months but it's not been forgotten <3)

[voraciousvore]

excerpt from something i started like a year ago and then forgot about (oops) thats a uh. a pattern with me

[voraciousvore]

[voraciousvore]

Where he goin’

[voraciousvore]

this shit had way too many views on deviantfart

enjoy non-canon Ephi B(

[voraciousvore]

yummy~

[voraciousvore]

Two variants of Alastor vore mawshots, which one do you like best?

[voraciousvore]

Best date ever >;)

[voraciousvore]

Bite-Sized (10) - A G/t BG3 fanfic

This contains g/t (giant/tiny content) so if that isn't your thing, then I suggest you stop reading. Thank you!

Read on ao3

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 | Chapter 9 | Chapter 10

Summary: Ria awaits her impending fate inside Astarion's mouth. Will this be the end for her or will Astarion surprise her?

Pairing: Astarion x f!borrower!oc (Tav/oc) (slow-burn)

Warnings: MOUTHPLAY WARNING!!! If you are uncomfortable with mouthplay or vore-ish themes, then DO NOT read this chapter! No actual vore occurs but mouthplay is VERY prominent and makes up the majority of this chapter. Swearing/course language.

Word count: 2.5k

It took every fibre in her being not to scream as Astarion’s lips passed over her body, pulling her inside his open maw. Before her eyes could adjust to the change in lighting, she was suddenly pressed to the roof of his mouth as he took a loud gulp and swallowed the remaining beer from his cup. She remained motionless as the giant fleshy muscle held her in place, all she could do was watch in terror as the liquid disappeared down his cavernous throat in a matter of seconds. All it would take was one swallow, and she would disappear down his gullet too.

His tongue suddenly relaxed, the beer now gone down his throat, and she found herself lying on the expanse of his wet, warm tongue. The scent of beer was heavy in the air, but it chilled her to the bone when she could also smell the metallic scent of blood hanging evidently in his mouth too. Tears burned her eyes and she stifled a sob. Her breathing came out in raspy gasps as dread hooked its claws into her once more as she attempted to process what was happening.

Gods, is he going to eat me?! Will I die like this?

Her mind immediately flickered back to when she had first met Astarion, how he had been so intent on eating her, how he had tasted her blood, running his tongue over her arms, and held her squirming in his cold fist like she was nothing but a mere piece of meat ready to be eaten. Fear clung fiercely to her heart and it quickly spread to the rest of her body like wildfire, smothering any other rational thought that was left in her brain. How could she sit idly, inside a vampire’s mouth, and not do anything? If she didn’t do something right now, she could be taking a trip down his throat very soon. She refused to wait around to see what would happen if she chose to remain idle.

My dagger.

As soon as the thought struck her brain, she hastily reached for her tiny dagger that Dammon had so carefully crafted and gripped it firmly in her trembling fist. Without a second thought, Ria drove her dagger into the flesh of his tongue and began stabbing the muscle multiple times as pure adrenaline clutched onto her hungrily with a vice-like grip. No sensible thoughts crossed her mind as she stabbed relentlessly, all she could think about was how much she didn’t want to go down Astarion’s throat and into his waiting stomach.

“Let me out!” she shrieked at the top of her lungs, blood from his tongue now splattering over her clothes as she continued to stab the wet surface, tears streaming down her face. “I haven’t come this far to be eaten by the likes of you!”

The fleshy surface beneath her suddenly tensed before pinning her to his palate once more, an audible grunt resonating loudly from the back of his throat. In the confusion of the moment, the dagger slipped out of her grasp and clanged against his large molars before falling and wedging itself between some of his pristine teeth that were dangerously close to the back of his throat. All she could do was watch in stunned silence, aside from the gurgling noises coming from the back of his throat, as her only means of defense was completely out of her reach.

Shit. Shit. SHIT!

Now she was quite literally at his mercy.

Perhaps stabbing his tongue so persistently wasn’t a good idea after all.

Sealing her eyes shut, she waited for the dreaded moment where he would swallow. Surely after her outburst of frequent stabbing, he would be done with her and gulp her down with no hesitation. Her body trembled as more sobs racked through her core violently as she waited for the end. But moments passed, and she was still pinned to the roof of his mouth as his tongue firmly held her in place.

What is happening?

Opening her eyes, her gaze scanned her surroundings and she was soon greeted with a formidable wall of teeth. She shuddered as her eyes fell on his fangs, so large that they could impale her entire body if he so pleased. Those same fangs had almost ended her life only a few weeks ago, and now she was face to face with them once more inside the vampire’s mouth. Chills snaked down her spine, suppressing another shiver, as she recalled those memories yet again of that fateful night. However, this time was different to when she had first met him – she was alive and inside the vampire’s mouth now, and surprisingly not halfway down to his stomach.

Why hasn’t he eaten me yet?

She wriggled around against his soft tongue, wondering if he was simply tasting her before the inevitable happened. Surely if he was going to eat her, he would’ve done so by now – right? His tongue barely moved, cradling her delicately against his palate, and it showed no signs in flicking her body down his throat. All she could do was wait painfully to see what he would do. Her heart pounded relentlessly against her ribcage, threatening to burst right out of her chest, her stomach dropping like a stone. If Astarion didn’t end her soon, the sheer suspense of the moment would.

After what felt like days, his tongue slowly relaxed and lowered her down until she was resting on the bottom of his mouth again. She didn’t dare move a muscle as she quivered on top of his tongue. Seconds turned to minutes, but still nothing happened. His tongue was surprisingly still as well, holding her as if she was as fragile as glass. While she sat in the vampire’s mouth, her overwhelming fear started to slowly dwindle. Her body was still frozen in place, refusing to move, worried that if she attempted to move again, he would squash her to the roof of his mouth, or even worse, swallow her whole. While she laid on his tongue, the only noises she could hear was the bubbling noise at the back of his throat. It certainly unnerved her listening to his bodily functions, a constant reminder of where she could easily end up if Astarion willed it.

Saliva coated her entire body, drenching all her clothes until they were a sodden mess. She sniffled as she realised that if she survived this, her clothes were completely and utterly ruined. There was no way she could walk out of this with any dignity left to her name, if she managed to get out of this at all. At least it was…pleasantly warm inside his mouth. It shocked her that while Astarion himself was icy cold to the touch, his mouth was surprisingly cosy. It pained her that the thought even crossed her mind, but the warmth that radiated from his mouth could only be described as such. Perhaps there was hope for her yet. She recalled Astarion winking at her moments before he slipped her inside his mouth, and how he had looked almost apologetic. Maybe she would be fine after all. And maybe stabbing his tongue had been incredibly stupid of her, but in her defense, after everything that she had been through, stabbing him was a perfectly reasonable reaction to the situation. Or at least that’s what she would keep on telling herself.

Pools of saliva had now started to gather around his tongue, steadily increasing by each passing second. A small yelp escaped past her lips as the fleshy muscle suddenly pinned her against his teeth, his throat releasing a very loud swallowing sound as the gathering pools of saliva vanished down his throat in a matter of seconds. Panic fluttered in her chest like a swarm of butterflies as she watched the liquid disappear so quickly down his gullet, and she shivered, thinking how easily that could’ve been her.

He…he still isn’t swallowing me.

His tongue soon relaxed, no longer pressing her against the wall of giant teeth. She inhaled a shaky breath, attempting to calm her frantic beating heart as she slowly accepted that perhaps she was safe after all. Why would he deliberately avoid swallowing her multiple times if he wasn’t going to do it? Especially after she had stabbed his tongue so harshly, she had expected him to swallow her almost immediately after doing something like that. But despite everything, he was holding her on top of his tongue like she was some kind of prized jewel. She was surprised that the vampire could be so gentle, especially in his mouth of all places where his dangerously sharp fangs could easily tear her in half.

Does he…care about me?

As soon as the thought entered her brain, heat blossomed across her face and her heart almost skipped a beat. Maybe he did care about her somewhat, after all, she had persuaded the group to allow him to feed on bandits and other thinking creatures. He had expressed gratitude towards her, and he had even thanked her for it the previous night. But she still couldn’t believe it.

No, that can’t be right. There’s no way that he could, especially after everything that’s happened…

The burning blush on her face only deepened and she knew for a fact that he could feel her tiny heartbeat pounding fiercely against her chest. She needed to get out of there quickly. She wasn’t sure just how much more of this she could take without turning into a complete mess.   

Gods, why me? Why did I have to suggest the alcohol idea in the first place?

As if her prayers were answered, light suddenly showered down on her small frame as his lips parted open. A startled squeak jumped out of her throat as pale, cold fingers gripped her waist and pulled her out of his mouth and into the cold air from outside. She shivered as the freezing air caressed over her saliva-coated skin, and for a brief second, she almost wished that she was back inside the warmth of the vampire’s mouth.

Before she could even process the thought, silky fabric smothered her entire body and gently massaged small circles into her drenched skin and clothes. She was completely numb to it all, her brain still attempting to comprehend what was even happening, but through all her mixed and flustered emotions she gathered that Astarion was attempting to dry her with what seemed to be a handkerchief of some kind. He continued to softly dry her soaked body, including her little head, his saliva and drying movements causing her hair to stick up in utterly ridiculous angles. Her face burned with embarrassment as he continued to dry her body and she was a little grateful that he couldn’t see her face during that moment.

The fabric soon pulled away, revealing Astarion’s piercing red gaze that settled on her small frame as she quivered in the palm of his hand.

“Well.” Astarion’s tongue swiped over his lips, a faint smile pulling at the corners of his mouth. “That certainly got a lot more intimate than what we planned for, didn’t it, darling?”

She opened and closed her mouth, but no audible sound registered on her lips. How was she supposed to talk after going through all of that, and then have him say that to her? Not to mention the way he ran his tongue over his lips – although she couldn’t tell if that was deliberate or not, it sent her heart spasming in her chest. Her mind failed to string together a coherent sentence as her lip trembled.

Astarion faltered, clearly seeing the look of distraught across her puffy face made him rethink what he was going to say next. His usual cheeky demeanour soon faded and was quickly replaced with a look of worry that once again surprised her.

“I do apologise for…uh…that.” He cleared his throat, his sanguine eyes staring at her with a soft warmth that was much unlike his usual piercing glare. “Holding you in my mouth was not my intended plan at all.”

He paused for a moment, his eyebrows knitting together as he cradled her in his hand.

“Are you alright?”

Her throat felt as if it were being crushed by some unseen force, tears pricked at her eyelids as her gaze darted away from his face to look at the floor below her as she sat in his cold palm. She didn’t know how to respond, after being faced with death once again and having those memories resurface, all she wanted to do was to run away and hide.

Of course I’m not alright. After all that, how can I possibly be?

“Ria?” Astarion’s voice rumbled all around her, startling her from her thoughts.

“Put me down,” she rasped, her voice barely above a whisper.

Both of his eyebrows shot up upon hearing her request. “Ria, we can ta-”

“I said put me down!” she exclaimed, tears burning her cheeks, her face swollen and puffy from crying. “Please. Now.”

He didn’t question her further as he dropped to one knee and lowered his hand to the ground. Immediately she hopped off his palm, rubbing her eyes with the back of her hand as she blinked back more tears.

She angled her neck upwards to look at him, his towering frame casting a long shadow over her tiny body as she swallowed back her rising fear. Now that she was on the ground, she was reminded once again just how small she was compared to him and everything else.

She needed to get away from him.

Before he could say anything, she sprinted away from him in the opposite direction. The ground trembled as his footsteps shuffled around on the dusty ground, and that only made her run faster.

Maybe it was utterly foolish for her to run away from her only means of protection, but she couldn’t bear to be around him in her current state. For her own sanity, she needed to get far away from him. They were still outside the Goblin Camp, the noises of the cheering from the goblins celebrating their latest kill rung heavily through the air, but she ignored it and continued to sprint towards the main building.

“Ria!” Astarion’s voice boomed from above, rattling through her very core and sending adrenaline spiking through her bloodstream. His large footfalls sent trembling earthquakes through the ground and she forced her legs to continue to run with all she had, not daring to look back.

In front of her she saw a small hole encrusted in the wall of the main building, just the right size for her to crawl into. She dashed inside, briefly feeling Astarion’s fingers brush past her hair as he made a failed attempt at grabbing her.  

“Wait, just hold on!” Astarion shouted from outside, his voice piercing her tiny eardrums and she flinched from the intensity.  

She ignored his words and instead ventured into the depths of the Goblin Camp.

[voraciousvore]

I made a dnd version of bob and as always I love him

[voraciousvore]

“What Would You Do?”

“Hey- can I ask you something?”

“Yeah”

“I mean, hypothetically speaking- what if… what would you do if you met- a giant?”

“Why- I’d give it a piece of my mind- let it swallow me up… and I’d tear it apart from the inside! …What would you do?”

“I- well, isn’t shooting the thing simply enough?”

“Maybe if you had an artillery shell…”

(What would you do?)

[voraciousvore]

Giganterra (Chapter 15)

Prologue/ TOC | Previous (14) | Next (16)

Content Warning: soft, safe, unwilling vore; sexual themes; vulgar language

Word Count: 2.5k

------ Chapter 15: Ambivalence ------

Gio opened his eyes to unfamiliar surroundings. He shifted in bed, only to be graced with pain rocketing up his arm. He groaned as the memories came flooding back: the betrayal of his master, being used like a sex toy by an evil giantess, his arm breaking. He felt like crying as he laid listlessly in bed, staring up at the ceiling—a facsimile ceiling, the artificial imitation of a dollhouse. A fake house, a fake life, made for a dehumanized doll, not a man. 

A loud thump on the wall startled him, jerking him out of his thoughts. He looked over only to find two enormous hazel irises staring back with glee. They roved over him, intruding on his privacy, until the excitement drained out as the giantess observed his splint. 

“Oh no, you really did break your arm, didn’t you?” she said. Her voice was loud and full as it vibrated off the walls of the dollhouse. Gio cringed. Her eyebrows knitted together, and the huge eyes rotated down. “S-sorry... I gave it some thought last night. I should probably fix you.”  

She straightened into a standing position, so Gio was no longer at eye level and found himself looking at her torso instead, as big as the side of a barn. His heart exploded with panic as the roof opened above, and the beautiful giantess loomed over him in all her terrifying glory. 

“Get away from me!” he screeched as her gigantic hand approached him, eclipsing the rest of the room. To his surprise, the hand stopped, the fingers curving around him but not yet touching him. The huge appendage retreated to rest on the top of the wall, the fingers draping down halfway to the floor. 

“I’m just trying to help,” the princess explained, tapping the wall with her fingertips in a thunderous gallop. Her tone sounded genuinely apologetic, laced with regret. As frightened as Gio was, her demeanor filled him with a white-hot fury. The stress of the situation, along with his pent-up frustration and misery, drowned out his usual caution. 

“Help!? Are you fucking kidding me?” he shouted. “Like hell you’re going to help! You USED me and BROKE my arm!” 

Bianca bit her lip. “I-I didn’t mean to...” 

His own outburst shocked him, but he was so angry he couldn’t stop. “And where do you get off, acting all sorry and like you care now? You certainly didn’t give a shit last night! You didn’t hesitate to snatch us all up and molest us! So don’t pretend like you have any sympathy or respect, you cunt!”  

He heaved with wrath, virtually foaming at the mouth. He glanced over at Graham and Cesar, huddled in an interior doorway and gaping at him in shock. Graham was dreadfully pale, and even Cesar looked nervous. As much as Cesar was attracted to Bianca, his service to the human king had trained him on how to speak to royalty, so he knew Gio’s insolence was punishable by death even without the size discrepancy. Gio turned his attention skyward to the giantess princess, who seemed just as stunned. His momentary burst of indignance vaporized in a flash as he realized what he’d done. He’d offended the princess, no doubt. She’d retaliate, probably squash him into a pulp in her hand. He crumbled with terror, his usual timid nature returning to his body, as the princess recovered from the effect of his words. 

“Nobody’s ever spoken to me like that before,” she uttered in disbelief. “Least of all a lowly little human.” She stared at him, scrutinizing him with intensity. Gio’s lips quivered as he waited for the inevitable, the moment drawing out like a knife. However, they were interrupted by a knock on the door. 

“Bianca, my girl! Daddy’s here!” King Richard proclaimed, sauntering into the room. “How’s your morning going? Did you sleep well?” 

Bianca’s plump lips curled into a smirk as she looked down her nose at her living playthings. “I slept fabulously,” she answered, flipping her long hair haughtily over her shoulder. “Thank you so much for my new toys, Daddy!” 

The king peered into the human habitat with a devious sneer. “Oh, look at that! He’s got a little splint! That’s hilarious!” He chuckled as Graham glared up at him. Gio had lost all his fire; he trembled, lowering his head. He knew he was in serious peril when the princess laughed along with her father, her expression hardening with a cruel edge. When the giant king glanced over at Graham, the small man swiftly averted his gaze to his toes. Cesar stayed quiet as he watched the whole scene play out in front of him, as if he weren’t a part of it. 

“By the way, I brought you a present,” Hardon announced, presenting the human carrier necklace to Bianca. Her gift, crafted especially for her by an expert metallurgist, was designed to be more feminine, consisting of a fine gold chain encrusted with small, sparkling jewels. He fished Candy out of his shirt to demonstrate its utility. Bianca’s eyes gleamed as she greedily snatched up the gift. 

“Wow, this is so cool! Thanks, Daddy!” She gave him a big hug, making Candy gasp for breath as she was smothered by giant breasts. The king smiled, giving his daughter a kiss on the cheek before leaving. Bianca’s maid hid from the lecherous king on his way out, not wanting to be groped or smacked on the butt in passing—or worse. As soon as he was gone, she came into the room holding a tray of hot breakfast, similar to the one prepared for Ronny, with Chester in tow to check for poison. 

Once the food was deemed safe, Princess Bianca settled down to eat her breakfast. First, though, she needed to remind Gio of his place. She couldn’t allow anyone to disrespect her like that, least of all an insignificant rat. She reached back into the little house and roughly seized him in her fist. This time, he didn’t yell at her, merely crying out in fear instead. She ripped off his splint, eliciting a sharp shriek of pain. 

“D-don’t hurt me!” he begged. “I-I take back what I said, I’m sorry, I was just scared and venting my feelings, I meant no disrespect Your Highness-” He continued to blubber as she wrapped his tiny body in a crêpe, smothering him in whipped cream and powdered sugar. His eyes widened and he struggled violently when he realized what was going on.   

“No! You can’t eat me! I don’t want to die!” He was sobbing now, with his arms pinned to his sides while he floundered in custard filling. Bianca regarded him coldly as a savage grin spread across her lips, exposing her teeth. She couldn’t deny the thrill she felt, having such control and power over the small man. She didn’t bother to inform him that the potion she used on him yesterday would last for days, so he wouldn’t perish in her stomach. She preferred to savor his fear. She watched him wriggle his shoulders desperately and stir the filling with his wimpy movements. His delicate features, stricken with abject fear, were dusted with white powder, and his cheeks and hair were splotched with cream. He looked delicious, and her stomach clamored for his dainty flesh to fill it. 

He deserved his fate, after all, for running his mouth to royalty when he was a mere commoner, and such a pathetic little creature on top of that. She pushed down the inconvenient itch of sympathy and guilt scratching at her skull. She shouldn’t allow herself to feel those irrational emotions for a human, her natural inferior. If her father knew she felt that way, he would disapprove. She couldn’t disappoint him. 

Gio felt how small and powerless he was as the strength of her huge hand squeezed him in the crêpe, squirting out the filling around him. Her enormous maw, like the interior of a cathedral, gaped open, ready to engulf him. Gio screamed as the massive open jaws approached, the tunnel of the gullet twitching with hunger. The walls of teeth closed around him, biting down on the soft dough and burying him in humid darkness. The floor beneath him, the squishy wet mass of the tongue, came to life and curled around him. The huge tongue stripped the blanket of crêpe from his body, licked off the whipped cream and filling, and slapped his face and skin. He pushed against the tongue with his palms, but the heavy slab was too strong for him to wrestle off. The giantess hummed with delight, her voice reverberating from her throat into the hollow chamber, as his flavor permeated her mouth. She shifted him from one side of her mouth to the other, with Gio wailing in pain the entire time as his broken arm was jostled and compressed. 

Gio had no time to mentally prepare himself as he abruptly slid headfirst into the wide gullet. His vision was scarred with the sight of the fleshy chute of the throat, descending into a forbidding blackness, before the muscles crushed around him and dragged him down. His arm throbbed with acute pain as it was smashed against his midsection. He blacked out as he was shuttled down, until he collapsed into the giantess’s stomach. When he regained his wits, he was horrified to find himself churning in acid, stirred by wrinkled walls of flexing meat. Loud grumbles echoed through the hollow cavity like an earthquake, and mashed-up food slopped down from the constricted opening above as the princess ate the rest of her breakfast. He held out his shaking hands to examine the soft glow radiating from his skin. The acid didn’t burn, but he was still hysterical with panic, not yet comprehending that he wouldn’t be digested. 

Although giants were large enough for Graham to make out their facial features at a reasonable distance, he still couldn’t see much without his glasses. Nevertheless, he could hear Gio’s pleas and screams clear as day as he was eaten alive. He glanced over at Cesar standing next to him, who was watching the display attentively. He could hardly ignore Cesar’s raging boner, naked as they all were. He turned away with the upmost revulsion.  

“You disgust me,” he spat at the other man. 

“I’m sorry, I can’t help it,” Cesar admitted, rubbing the back of his neck with his hand. “Goddamn, she’s so hot. I want her to eat me too...” 

“What the hell is wrong with you? Don’t you care about Gio? Or have any self-respect or sense of self-preservation at all? Or shame, for that matter?” 

Cesar grinned sheepishly. “Nope.” He sighed. “Don’t misunderstand, I feel bad for Gio, I really do. But I don’t think she intends to kill him. Besides, he shouldn’t have spoken to her that way. She’s royalty. He should’ve known better.” He shrugged. 

Graham, at a loss for words, huffed and shook his head. He walked away from the glass and sat down on one of the beds, holding his face in his hands and muttering vulgar invectives under his breath. He couldn’t believe he was in this situation, and stuck with a sex-crazed idiot, no less. He flinched as the threatening shadow of the giantess enveloped the miniature house. He looked up with trepidation to behold Bianca smiling and rubbing her full belly as she gazed down rapaciously at the two remaining men like she wanted to devour them alive.  

“Now, which one of you should I take with me today?” she teased, fingering her new jewelry, the human carrier that adorned her neck. 

Cesar gazed up at her with awe, saluting her proudly with his exposed member. “Ooh, me! Pick me!” he called out, raising his hands, imagining the embrace of her warm skin on his with dreamy bliss. 

Bianca grazed him over with her eyes, considering her options. A mischievous smirk spread over her face. “Nah.” She reached in and plucked up Graham instead, who squealed in protest. She snapped him into her necklace and dropped it to her chest. The tiny man’s cries were muffled when he fell neatly into her cleavage and was swallowed up by her full breasts, which bobbed slightly with his frantic motions. He tried to climb out of the soft valley, straining his arms, but Bianca stuffed him back in. 

“Aw, c’mon...” Cesar moaned as Bianca shut the roof and abandoned him. She was shunning him on purpose to torment him; he just knew it. He watched her leave with longing, dick in hand as her shapely backside swayed temptingly. He sighed as he was left alone, insanely jealous of the other men. He felt empty and unwanted. Did she not like him for some reason? Was he not good enough for her? 

Bianca didn’t give Cesar a second thought while she strolled through the castle. As she felt Gio thrashing weakly in her gut, and Graham fighting against her bouncing jugs, a twinge of regret began to worm its way into her heart. She knew it wasn’t right for her to feel empathy for humans, yet she couldn’t get the image of Gio, sallow and shriveled with his broken arm, out of her head. She normally didn’t experience compassion for her inferiors, but something about his tiny size, with how scared and helpless he was, struck a chord with her. 

She really didn’t intend to injure him. His emotional blowup had rocked her to her core. To think that such a vulnerable creature, wounded and frail, would have the audacity to confront and berate her filled her with amazement, perhaps even admiration. It wouldn’t be easy to stand up to a giantess hundreds of times his size, after all. Even full-sized giant men were afraid to speak to her in that manner, with the power she wielded. 

She realized the extreme duress he was under prompted his heated, impulsive response, and the fact that he could feel so strongly disturbed her. She was accustomed to seeing fear in humans, especially when they were on her dinner plate, but anger? Sadness? Even joy, with that bizarre horny one who actually seemed happy to see her? It was strange and alien to her. To think they had a range of complex feelings, like real people and not just primitive animals, bothered her. Her interactions with humans had been limited up to this point, restricted mostly to eating them, and she was learning a lot more than she expected about them. 

She decided to get a healing salve for Gio’s arm. Why not? She was his owner, his caretaker. She ought to keep her toys in pristine condition. For peak performance—certainly not out of compassion or guilt. Normally, she’d send a servant to do her bidding, but she felt oddly embarrassed about the whole thing. She didn’t want anyone else to know about her conflicting thoughts and feelings. She didn’t want to admit that she would spare this human, this inferior creature, after he disrespected her so rudely. She didn’t want to acknowledge or confront her own ambivalence regarding these human men, who seemed to have depth and dimensions that she hadn’t anticipated. 

Chapter 16

[voraciousvore]

Hand Held 5.1

20ish years ago I drew Hand Held 5, and here is my current revised version.

Kristine was sneaking in the grass, doing her best to go unnoticed by any humans or wild animals. While the grass provided shelter, the grass also made it difficult to see. Suddenly, she took a tumble, tripping over a rock. Clumsily she fell through blades of grass, rolling to a stop in a stretch of dirt.

Dusting herself off, she quickly got up to hide in the grass again, at least, that’s what she planned to do. When getting up, her ankle seared in pain unable to take any weight. Recovering, and debating her next move, a large shadow blanketed over her and much of the ground around her. Oh no.

Her fall had caught the attention of a human man. Leaning back, she tried to see him and read his face, but the midday sun cast him in shadows. There was no way of knowing what he thought, good intentioned or not. Still trying to see him, the massive human shifted downwards coming towards her. His hands reaching out.

Oh my goodness!! Background, foreground, mid-tone shadows, new textures, i tried so many new things. I took my time with this one. I hope you enjoy G/t community. ❤️ much luv!

[voraciousvore]

Wow great job team we did it 👏💪😜

So I decided to post my size/ vore art (all sfw) all in one place on DeviantArt. There are older pieces included that I never posted on Tumblr as well as art for an upcoming chapter.

I was always nervous about posting my art online because I know it's not that good but I've obviously moved beyond that point. I enjoy creating and having an audience to share with, whether it be cringe writing or art :3

(And I can't share this stuff with people irl obviously)