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Soft vore mini stories

Gulped Down

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Written by Arian Mabe (Amethyst Mare)

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Simon squealed, the grey-furred anthro rat wriggling in anticipation, panting, whimpering, though others might have said that he should have been afraid of what was going to happen to him. The dragon, a four-legged feral with a wicked smirk on his lips and a penchant for mischief, toyed with the rat in his muzzle, Simon fitting nicely within the cage of Tarron's teeth.

"Mmm... Oh, thank you for doing this again, Tarron... Mmm..." The rat quivered, his hairless tail snaking back and forth. "Mmm... Oh... Wow..."

Of course, he was naked, squirming and grunting, grinding on his front into the dragon's tongue. He couldn't help himself, not for their special kind of play, between him as a macro, feral dragon, the rat barely as large as his foot, not when they both knew that they would be perfectly safe in doing so.

Being swallowed, after all, without a magical creature taking good care of him, was a risky endeavour indeed. Yet in the dragon's maw was right where Simon wanted to be. Tarron couldn't say anything, not when he was taking care to wriggle and squirm his tongue up against the rat, his lover and partner, but the love between them was there, a bond that could not be broken.

Simon whimpered, his fur slickened down to his body, cock hard, so very hard, humping and pushing as if his life depended on it, though he couldn't fully grip the dragon's squirming tongue. He needed it, craved it, gulping down what air he could while he could, though he would have stayed in the dragon's maw for the entirety of their session if he had wanted to, though nothing, not quite, could ever compare to a slick, smooth slide down the dragon's long, long neck.

He shook softly, though he knew that he was where he wanted to be, even if he had to be brave. It felt like being prey, to be devoured, even to relish in the slick reek of the dragon's maw. There was an intrinsic scent to the interior of the dragon's maw that made him want more, moaning, sniffing faintly, his nose wriggling, twitching, constantly in motion.

Oh, how he wanted it, how he wanted more, grunting softly, his tail flicking and back forth, desire coursing through him. But Tarron would take good care of him, even as he lingered on the very edge of orgasm in the dragon's mouth, the tongue flickering and slapping up between his thighs, snaking over his rump and balls in a single, wet slap.

Tarron rumbled, head slipping back, slowly, surely. He wanted Simon to know what was happening to him, to feel every last moment of it, the pull of being devoured, of sliding down his throat. The rat squirmed and howled breathlessly, climaxing right there and then, though the ropes of slick cum that he shot were lost in the shiver of saliva coating him, darkness drawing him down into the back of the dragon's maw - and down his throat.

The dragon swallowed, letting gravity pull him down, doing most of the work for him. He didn't need to do much, not when the rat was already coated from head to the very tip of his tail in a dripping coat of saliva, lustful and needy, whimpering all the while. But Simon would be quite safe and secure in the pit of his stomach, the aching need deep within the dragon pulling for something more.

Tarron, however, would take care of his own bodily needs, his throbbing hard-on, after the rat was safe and tucked away in his belly...

That moment was about Simon, as the rat slid down his throat, letting the warm, controlling pulses guide him where he needed to be. Muscles flexed around him automatically, the dragon's body knowing exactly what it needed to do and no more than that. Simon twisted and wriggled, squirming in delight, losing sense of himself, just a rat, just prey, nothing more than that.

And when it gave him such pleasure, was there anything better, quite possibly, that he could ever have wanted to be? He couldn't think of anything, not at all, not even as he dropped safely into the dragon's stomach, the opening around him wide and spacious. It betrayed the sheer size of the dragon compared to him, in that he was more than comfortable in there with plenty of room, even if the hardness of his aching member demanded even more attention still.

"Yes... Mmm... Mmmph... Oh, yes..."

His muffled words died on his lips, stretched into a smile, losing himself in the moment. He didn't have anything else to worry about there, not where he was safe, not where he only had to focus on his own needs. Yet another orgasm was already building inside him, sensory deprivation at his finest, tongue hanging out of his muzzle, flickering out solely to lash desperately against the side of his snout.

The dragon settled down on the ground, letting his "meal" squirm inside, though no harm would come to the rat and magic would see him safe and sound in no time at all. Yet, until then, the little rat could squirm and thrust, his hard-on clasping tightly in his paw, lusting and squirming, twisting and turning.

He lost all sense of what was up and what was down as he exploded into a second orgasm, though Simon could not garner for how long that climax lasted either. All he knew was the luxury of lust, the power of the moment, how desperately he hungered for it, wanting it, pressing onward for it, over and over again.

And he had all the time in the world down there to thrust and to squirm, to spend his seed, to lust after the luxury of being nothing more than prey, of being all that he needed to be.

Around Simon, Tarron rumbled a growl, tail rubbing up against his own hard-on, stroking and teasing with pressuring, pleasing ecstasy.

For Simon, being gulped down his lover's throat, would forever remain the most erotic thing in the world to him.