Fodders' Delivery

Story by Tristan Hawthorne on SoFurry

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#7 of Patreon Stories

The September poll on my Patreon called for a story about a vore restaurant that delivers preyboys along with traditional food as 'sides'. It's Wayne's first time getting ordered by a customer, most nights spent maintaining the delivery vehicles or just lazing around on his phone. The muscular coyote isn't quite prepared for how ravenous a hefty ferrettaur can get, though.

Contains: Implied Vore, Fatfurs, High Tech setting, Big Scaly Tummy, Big Cylinders That Gush Fog When they Open, Mild Nudity, Worldbuilding, a Grooming Pod that's Basically a Carwash for a Person, A Fat Ferrettaur, Food Play in the form of laying food on top of naked prey and then using said prey as a plate, ravenous predator, loss of control, Oral Vore, Object Eating, Panicky Prey, painless rapid digestion, and reformation.

This story Premiered first on my Patreon one month ago today! There's already a new full Kobold Kaos story uploaded there which I'll be uploading the preview to soon. Again, people who pledge $1 or more can vote on those polls. $5 or more you can add to the suggestion doc, which is where the ideas that get voted on on the polls come from. Once my first stretch goal is reached at $60 a month, people pledging $10 or more will be able to get monthly "sketch" vignettes! Hopefully we'll reach that goal soon.

If you'd rather have more complete control of my creative output, consider commissioning me! If you'd rather just support me and don't want to commit to a monthly donation, I have a Ko-Fi.


Wayne had his feet up on top of the backrest of the other end of the booth's corner, his head close to the top of the cushion opposite with his hips square in the middle. The trim coyote was wearing his work uniform, which consisted of fairly cheap but soft fabrics, holding his work phone. The company provided such things because of the kind of business Wayne had found himself in.

The booth he was propped up in was a nook in the staff break room, across from a large cylinder that stood floor to ceiling with a rectangular panel in it that could slide away for access in and out, as well as a control panel set upon a pillar to the right of the hatch. The machine had been humming for the last few minutes, and the control panel's red light turned green. The hatch opened with a hiss, gushing white fog out into the break room like it had been full of boiling water and dry ice.

Out of the mist, a heavyset naked ram staggered into view. He groaned and rubbed the small of his back. "Ugh... I'm really gonna have to take up yoga if I keep getting clients shorter than me." He immediately walked over to his cubby and started sliding back into his uniform, before pocketing his own work phone.

Wayne glanced over. "Brad, I don't think yoga covers that sort of thing."

The ram, Brad, scowled. "There has to be some type that helps you contort."

The coyote shrugged and looked back at his work phone. It was the type that had all its storage in the cloud, just in case it couldn't be recovered.

The door into the breakroom opened, and there entered the scaled gut of their manager, barely grazing the sides of the frame. The manager himself, Mr. Boudreau, followed shortly after, tugging down on his red polo shirt to try to cover the venetian-blind scales across his belly. The alligator was fairly well liked by his employees at this branch of Fodders, but he had a habit of taking advantage of the staff discounts and the fact that if he partook at work he wouldn't have to pay the delivery fees.

"Hey, Boss, Boss's gut." Wayne addressed the gator's face, then his belly.

Mr. Boudreau cleared his throat with a fist at the end of his long muzzle, a light blush showing through the green of his scales. "Brad, you're good to go on break, since you just got back." He addressed the ram.

Brad nodded and headed over to the booth the coyote was sprawled across the back bench of.

The gator waddled his way that way as well, his tail swaying behind him as counterbalance to the jut of his gut in the front. At the booth, his belly grazed the top of the table as he leaned forward to address the reclined canine. "Guess what, Wayne?"

"Car servicing duty again?" Wayne sighed.

"Nope." Mr. Boudreau chuckled, causing his gut to bounce in place.

Brad was having trouble not looking at it, pretending he was on his phone.

Wayne looked up to meet the smiling face of his boss, confused.

The alligator leaned forward enough his navel pressed flat to the table, causing the whole thing to creak and lean to that side. He pointed with a thick clawed digit. "You, my canine friend, have a customer."

Eyebrows shooting up, the coyote sank down a bit, his back nearly flat to the bench's cushion. "Like... a pred...?"

"Yes, a pred." Mr. Boudreau leaned back upright, sending the table creaking as it returned to level. "You know, I don't think in my time managing here at Fodders I've seen an employee go this long without having one!"

Wayne sat upright, and glanced over at his coworker, a chubby guy, almost a butterball. Brad's wool was sheered close to his skin all year, his uniform clinging to his curves. The coyote idly gestured to his own body, which, apart from some snugness at the top of his chest, was not clung to at all by the fabric. "I can guess why."

The ram was still staring at the alligator's scaled midsection where it refused to be hidden by the paltry polo shirt.

"Well, someone decided you were incredible and edible. Your sides will be done in ten minutes. You should be ready by then." Mr. Boudreau nodded firmly, and swung around, his thick tail coming close to slapping into the table as well as it curved behind the wide reptile.

The coyote waited for the booth to be fully clear of his boss before he scooted his way out opposite of Brad, fidgeting a bit as he looked between his cubby and the tube across the room.

Brad chuckled. "Go in the grooming pod and don't worry about it."

Wayne nodded. "Right." Before going on shift they had to wash themselves. More than just their hands in their line of work of course. The coyote was well acquainted with the pod, having to use it when he arrived at work, after getting off break, and after servicing the delivery vehicles...

He stripped down by the pod, which was located in a nook between the tube and the booth, setting his uniform and work phone in a little compartment off to one side, where they'd be sterilized in ways that weren't safe for a whole anthro to go through.

Working in this industry meant you also got used to being nude around coworkers, obviously. Wayne tapped the machine's panel. It was the first time he hit the button "on delivery" instead of the button for simply "on shift" for it. He slipped in the hatch and settled into the restraints, closing his eyes and relaxing. Being washed by the grooming pod was oddly soothing to the coyote, as pressurized water jets worked through his fur.

He did notice however that the routine was different, going further than usual. He quivered as the jets travelled into some more intimate places than he was used to, a blush across his cheek, then he perked at a sharp feeling on his arm. It was gone before he could think, and the hot air of the drying cycle was rushing around him.

Wayne staggered out of the pod once it opened back out, his fur all fluffed up and obscuring the muscles he'd worked hard to define at the gym. He stroked down over his chest, looking over to Brad. "Okay, did it give me a shot?"

The ram perked. "Oh, yeah. Don't you remember that from orientation?"

The coyote blinked, and stared into the middle distance, trying to remember.

Brad sighed. "Get some pants on, fluff ball. Going on delivery we get a shot that makes it so we don't feel anything worse than discomfort. It's a prey protection thing. I keep forgetting you've never actually gone out on delivery."

Wayne's eyes widened. "Wait, I thought it was all soft swallowing...?"

The ram waved his blunt fingered hand. "It is. I've never had a bitey customer. But it's a precaution. Just in case." Brad turned back to his phone. "Anyway, if you haven't passed out by the time you start churning you'll be glad for the shot."

The coyote nearly tripped on his own pant leg at that. Fidgeting with his uniform, he got it back on. "Uh... how often do you get churned, Brad?"

"At least once a night, on duty." Brad replied, not even looking up from his phone. "It's not a big deal. Just a little disorienting sometimes; some lingering sensations after reconstitution."

The canine smoothed down his uniform and put his own phone in his pocket. "Am I presentable?"

"You're fine. Now go get your sides." Brad seemed a bit annoyed by now.

Wayne sighed and headed out of the break room into the kitchen.

As a mainly delivery restaurant, Fodders dedicated most of its floorplan to storage and the kitchen. There was a small dining room for private events, but it was mostly Mr. Boudreau who used that. Wayne wondered if the alligator would ever decide to call him in there, sometime. From what he understood it usually came with a bonus.

On the counter by the door leading out to the part of the parking lot the delivery vehicles were parked sat an array of thermal containers meant to keep the food inside warm. Judging from the same number written on a post-it note on each container, they were all for the same order.

As Wayne walked across the kitchen that way, he was blindsided by his boss.

The big gator somehow knew how to keep his footsteps from thudding even when casually walking around. He playfully slapped a post-it note onto Wayne's chest. "There we go. First delivery. Press the panic button if there's trouble, okay?"

Looking down at the post-it note, the coyote noted it had the same number as the array of food containers, and blushed. "Y-yeah, of course. It won't come to that, I'm sure."

"That's the spirit." Mr. Boudreau nodded, and his stomach made an empty blorp. "I probably should have had you myself so you'd be used to it before a customer ordered you..."

Wayne coughed awkwardly, looking away from the gator's exposed belly. "Too late for that now. Which car should I take?"

"Any except for three." The large reptile nodded, his thick neck creasing a bit beneath his jaw. "You reported the navigation system shorted out."

"Yes. Right." The coyote grasped the thermal bags of food and slipped out the door.

The choice was easy, as there were only two delivery cars currently parked, the others out on other deliveries.

Wayne tapped his thumb pad to the handle of car two's hatch, and with a click and a hiss, it opened. The canine carefully arranged the bags in the environmentally isolated back of the vehicle, before closing the hatch. Another tap of his thumb at the driver's side opened the door. He carefully slipped in, and sighed at how far back the seat was set. The coyote set his work phone in the dock on the dashboard and smooshed his index claw into the seat adjust control until he was a comfortable distance from the steering wheel. Driver's side door closed and seatbelt on prompted a new display on the phone.

The address of the customer he was serving tonight had come up, and a button to start route, with 'automated' and 'guided' as options. Wayne chose 'guided'. The vehicle's motor started up with a low hum and a whirr of rotating parts sliding against each other. The coyote sighed and set off, using the text-to-speech guidance to navigate. While the car could drive itself, he felt like he should be doing something instead of waiting to arrive after some AI driver transported him.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Slipping out of the driver's seat and re-pocketing his work phone, Wayne walked back to the hatch and retrieved his 'sides'. He blushed a bit. That persistent terminology just seemed designed to remind him that he was an entrée at Fodders. It was a fairly large house he'd been guided to, with wide French doors at the top of the stoop of long steps.

Holding all the insulated bags in one arm, he pressed the doorbell firmly. Muffled through the door he could hear internal speakers playing an 8-bit jingle, one he couldn't quite place.

Through the frosted glass, the coyote could see someone moving, and judging from how much light they blocked, it was a large someone.

The double doors burst inward, revealing a wall of soft fur and rolls of pudge. Having to look up, Wayne was soon looking at a grinning ferret's face, the chubby cheeks supporting a pair of round glasses ahead of the dark grey mask.

"Hi! I... uh, I'm Nigel! Are you from Fodders?" The ferret's voice was soft and round, much like his face, but anything but heavy like his body.

Wayne blinked. "I... yes."

"You look different in the dark on my porch, haha..." Nigel forced an awkward laugh. "Anyway, come on in, I've got some space set up..." He backed away from the doors with a heavy wobble, and as he turned, there was even more body than the coyote thought before. Initially Wayne had assumed his customer had come to the door naked and was kept 'decent' by the heft of his belly. However, what he'd taken for an anthro's legs were the forelegs of a particularly corpulent ferret taur. Waves of motion travelled down the pudgy tube of fur as the ferret walked away from the door to make room for his order.

The canine swallowed nervously and stepped through the doors, starting to follow. Wayne's eyes kept tracing along the wobbling rolls of pudge as the white and grey mustelid just barely managed to keep his lower belly from dragging on the floor. He jumped a bit as he heard the doors close behind him shut on their own, glancing back, before continuing to follow the customer.

"If you don't mind, I was thinking we could open up the appetizers so they'd be cool enough for a nice Nantaimori." Nigel settled on the far side of a long, low table, cushions strewn in various places around the room. Of course a taur wouldn't have traditional seating in their home.

"A... what?" Wayne set the bags on the table and started to open them up, taking the various dishes out. In addition to letting heat radiate forth, the scents of the food began to fill the air of the room.

"Oh, most people know it as Nyotaimori, but you're male so it's more properly Nantaimori." Nigel explained, as if that had clarified anything.

"Oh." The coyote blinked a bit, wondering if he should even ask.

The rolly taur tilted his head. "You don't want this food on you at travelling temperature, do you?"

Wayne perked. "No, no, letting it cool first is a good idea."

"I normally order one of the bigger guys, but I'm trying to cut back." Nigel offered small talk while idly feeling the side of his broad upper belly with a hand. "But your weight-to-height ratio with your proportions in the photo online told me you're a good high protein option."

The coyote had just finished putting out the dishes, and blushed. "I... uh... thanks? You're actually the first customer to order me."

"Really?" The taur wobbled to look closer. "Well, I'll be on my best behavior. Now strip down."

Wayne started, blushing. "Ah, okay. Going for that right away..." He pulled his loose shirt off, the oversized uniform falling away to reveal his well-defined muscles, visible now that his fur had had a chance to lay back down on the ride over. He put his work phone on the table, before slipping out of his pants, and shoes, leaving himself bare to his customer.

Nigel patted an open spot on the table. "Now, just lie down and hold still. I'll get the arrangement going."

Certain his phone was within reach in case anything happened, the canine clambered up onto the table, and eased himself down on his back. Wayne wondered what the arrangement would be, but didn't have to wait long.

Large, chubby fingers grasped at the coyote, arranging his body in a neutral, fairly comfortable position, before they left towards the open boxes of food. "Close your eyes, and hold still."

Swallowing nervously, Wayne obeyed, hoping he'd get a good tip after this at the very least.

One warm item at a time was placed onto the coyote's bare body, covering his eyes and chest, along his thighs and shins, draped over his lap and meticulously placed on each defined abdominal.

Something in the canine's mind clicked. "Isn't this supposed to be done with sushi?"

Nigel let out a soft chirp of surprise. "W-well, traditionally, yes, but I have eclectic tastes..."

Wayne sighed, and did his best not to fidget, though sometimes when he took a particularly deep breath he felt as though something on his trim midsection would slide off. Soon enough, no new foods were being added.

The reason became apparent, as delicately, a piece of food was lifted back away, and the coyote could hear the sound of chewing. Another item was lifted up shortly after. "One reason I like this method is that I get a trace of your flavor on everything I eat before it's time to down you." The ferret said between mouthfuls. He seemed to be taking less time between items taken off his living, edible platter.

Wayne's cheeks flared up a bit underneath what he was fairly sure was a slice of pizza covering his face. So it was more than just a power play, at least, in this case. The canine wondered what it would be like when-

A broad, thick tongue slathered across the coyote's chest, dragging away everything meticulously placed there at once. Nigel moaned indulgently, and took another lick, up along his prey's throat.

Balling his hands into fists, the coyote did his best to stay still, though a whine did escape his throat. He was sure licking was normal, even if it had come as a surprise since he hadn't seen it coming. Now that Wayne was expecting the treatment it wasn't that bad. Similar enough to the automated grooming pod in certain ways. The next lick dislodged the pizza from his face, causing it to go sliding onto the table above his head. The canine opened his eyes in surprise, only to see the ferret lunge to chomp onto the escaping food.

Nigel's glasses were a bit askew, and more so the look in his eyes was distant, glassy.

The anthro swallowed nervously, but laid still.

The corpulent ferret shifted his immense weight back down, his jaws opening up to slather and grind his fat tongue over a thigh, sucking the food there off all at once, before switching to the other. Nigel groaned, and his stomachs growled greedily in concert, a trio of gluttons in one body. He slurped his way down towards the pair of foot paws.

Wayne craned his neck up over his defined chest, watching. He was just in time to see that gaping pair of jaws wrap around his feet, drawing them together into the embrace of the rippling, wobbly predator's gullet.

Nigel moaned through his nose, eyes rolling up in his head, before he gaped his jaws wide again. A twist of his neck rotated the naked coyote on the table effortlessly to be pointed towards the way he was most definitely going. Before the anthro could react to this, he found his hips being scooped up in chunky hand paws. And he was pulled backward.

The taur was rolling onto his back. A pair of forepaws grasped onto Wayne's shoulders, completing the combined support and ensnarement of the prey by his predator.

Once settled into this position, Nigel started to swallow again, working knees in with one muscular contraction, then up to hips with the next.

Wayne panted heavily, peeking back at his phone, now so far out of reach, and tried to remain calm. He knew he'd be fine. Brad was always fine, even if he complained sometimes. The coyote let out a soft yipe as the four paws repositioned, hands grasping his shoulders as the forepaws practically enveloped his head, all four limbs shoving in unison and sending his abs into the moist heat of his predator.

Nigel's tongue ground between the canine's shoulder blades, caressing the defined back muscles and sucking the coyote flavor from his pelt. The taur only removed his hands when his jaws had reached the prey-thing's shoulders, using his forepaws to shove the head in after. Snapping his maw shut, the ferret growled blissfully, wrapping the thick muscular tongue over the trapped male's face.

The coyote barely had time to react to being fully enveloped by another living being before his attention was focused on the powerful tongue close to smothering him. He wondered if he'd just pass out now and be spared having to in the stomach. But that wasn't to be. Another powerful swallow yanked him away from the greedy length of muscle. Most immediate filling his ears was the continued squelching of fluids against and into the dishes of his pointed ears. Beyond that was the rush of breathing, and further still the bass two-step of the heartbeat pumping the predator's blood all around him.

The immense ferret sat still for only a moment, before another greedy sound echoed from deep in his guts. He lunged towards the table, upending the internal world that Wayne was still trying to get used to. Nigel had apparently found something else to eat, from the sounds coming from above.

Wayne felt his face squeezed by a fleshy ring, before he dropped about a foot, settled into a more open space. He immediately recognized he was sitting in all the masticated food; his 'sides' that he had brought to the ferret. Up above he heard swallowing again, and wondered what else there was to eat.

He was answered with a wet thud in the mess next to him. The coyote reached, and grasped where he had heard it. There, in his paw, quite messy indeed, was his work phone. Wayne sighed. He wiped off the front and woke it up, the screen lighting up the messy chamber. "Okay... it's okay, he's just a bit enthusiastic... I can get a replacement easily. My data's in the cloud..." The canine muttered to himself, trying to stay calm, as he was jostled again.

With the sound of swallows, a bundled up mass of cloth fell into the stomach. It didn't take long for the coyote to recognize it to be his uniform. And the next pair of plops was his shoes, thankfully not landing on him. "Okay, that's why the clothes are cheap, it's fine..." Wayne swallowed, before he realized that the ferret outside was walking... but doing so with his torso close to horizontal with the ground based on how the movement was translated. Distantly he thought he could hear heavy sniffing.

The work phone made a ding. Through the saliva on the screen Wayne saw a notification he'd connected to the Bluetooth in car two. "Wait, that's not right."

The ferret taur started swallowing greedily again.

"There's no way..." Wayne's eyes widened. "It's not like it tastes any good." He looked down at his uniform, which surely didn't taste good either. But it tasted like him. "It's not like the car tastes much like..." Wayne trailed off. He spent most of his time at work servicing those cars.

The faint light of the phone screen was soon supplanted by a pair of headlights jutting through the stretched cardia.

"Fuck!" The coyote recoiled as the license plate came into view. The swallowing wasn't stopping, and if he wasn't careful he'd be crushed by a car before he had a chance to gurgle. The canine twisted to face the other way, and pushed through the mass of half-digested food, trying to find-

Nigel grunted, but wasn't stopped in his consumption of the automated automobile.

Wayne's arm had sunk right through the next valve. He took a deep breath, and shoved his hand holding his phone through alongside it, before ducking his head down and kicking off the front bumper of car two.

It was surprisingly easy to jump the gun and traverse through the tubing that connected the ferret's first and second stomachs. The coyote squirmed and kicked his legs like he was swimming, until he felt his hands press through to another open space on the other side. Wayne spread his wrists apart as best as he could, doing a dolphin kick, and soon his head and shoulders pressed through as well. This chamber was mostly just slimy slop, no sign of anything recognizable. His fingers were starting to tingle now.

Wayne sluiced the rest of the way through, and ended up kneeling in the swaying chamber. The heartbeat was a lot stronger here, this deep in the taur. He looked back towards the valve he had come through, for any signs of light pouring through. Nothing yet.

His legs were falling asleep, it seemed. He tried to adjust into a more comfortable position and found them entirely unresponsive. Turning his phone towards the slime, he saw that it had turned the color of his fur in the area immediately around him. "Oh. Oh, okay." Wayne panted softly. "It's fine. I'm Fine. It'll be fine, this is fine..." He was sinking into the greedy chyme now, and his phone slipped from his fingers as the tingle there became too strong. "Ah jeeze.... No, it's okay... It's... It's..."

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

There was a loud beep, and Wayne jolted forward. The naked coyote looked around, disoriented. He was standing in front of the cylinder in the break room, surrounded in that heavy mist.

Mr. Boudreau rushed in. "Oh, Wayne!" He waddled his way over to his employee, a worried expression on his face. "We didn't know what had happened. Your phone went offline, and car two hasn't come back yet..."

The coyote took a step and stumbled with a yipe, grasping onto his boss' broad belly and holding onto the ball gut to keep from falling.

Big reptilian hands grasped around his bare form, helping support. "What happened? Are you okay?"

Wayne whined a little bit, and rested his head on the soft top of the gator's dome tum. "I... yeah. But car two's done for. That guy has a ridiculous appetite..."

Mr. Boudreau made a confused sound, then groaned, and patted his employee on the back. "Oh. Well. You take it easy. Seems like you had a rough first time out."

"Okay..." The canine murmured.

"Though if you wanna ride my gut," The gator chuckled affectionately. "It'll have to be from the inside so I can get some work done."