RabidChipmunk's Stories (Newest: M/M, Lucario/Human, OV)

[RabidChipmunk]

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Well Met (M/M, Fox/Human, Fatal, Digestion, Unwilling, Teasing, Shrinking)
Surprise Party (M/M, Lucario/Human, Fatal, Digestion, Unwilling, Cruelty)

It's been a while since I've written anything, I kinda average about one vore story per year, but I just put out something new and wanted to share! I'll try to collect any future stuff in this thread as well to avoid opening up more topics than needed.

This is a fatal, oral vore story between a fox and a human. A photographer ventures into the woods and runs into a mysterious fox. If cruelty and death make you squeamish, this might not be for you, though I've written crueler stuff in the past. I tried to focus more on the structure and lead-up for this one, and I hope I succeeded. In the past I've rushed the intros a ton or had extremely awkward dialogue, so it's something I've tried to be conscious of improving.

Hope you enjoy!


Well Met
Gallery Link
~

Some days lend themselves to descriptions while others seem to skirt around them. These are the kinds of days the air has no tangible feeling. No wind, a temperature not particularly hot or cold, enough cloud cover to soften the light but not enough to remind of rain. Days that feel like water tastes; impossible to describe but nevertheless exactly right.

As you might have guessed, today was one of those days.

Marc hadn't really planned this trip but he'd found himself lulled awake by his neighbor's screaming newborn this morning at the wonderful hour of 5AM and decided to make the most of it. He fancied himself a photographer, he had all the gear and knew how to use it, but didn't usually make the time to put it through its paces. City life didn't afford him many opportunities. Street photography was great for some, but to him it just felt awkward and invasive. It made him feel like a tourist. He liked the solitude of nature. No one to rush him along or stare as he set up his shots, and no confrontations with unwilling subjects. So although the drive through the city and out to the woods took a good 4 hours, he was excited to stretch his photography muscles again.

Marc had been stomping around for a good few hours and this fox was the first larger animal he'd come across. Crouched inside a bush behind a log, Marc's legs were going prickly and he was more than a little aware of a line of ants that had begun to find their way inside his left pant leg, but he kept absolutely still. The animal was no more than 10 feet away and it was hunting. These were the sorts of shots worth suffering for.

The fox, ears cocked, staring straight ahead, paused its slow creep through the brush. Marc readied his camera. The fox twitched forward once... twice... Marc's finger lay just above the shutter release. The animal popped up into the air and the soft sound of the camera's rapid click started up, following along with the fox as it arced down back to earth. For a moment, all that was visible of the animal was a slight twitch of its tail. After a few seconds it resurfaced, mouse in jaws. Marc held his breath and kept the shutter rolling as the fox stared him seemingly dead in the eye. The tiny grey mouse twitched in a futile attempt to escape, its even tinier mouth open wide as it gave off tiny shrieks. The fox paid it no mind. Still staring straight at the bush where Marc lay, it flipped its orange head back and sent its captive careening back into the fleshy depths of its maw. The mouse was pushed completely in with one more flick of the jaws. The teeth closed around it and cut it off from the world. The fox took one more gulp and the mouse was gone.

Amazed at the shots he was getting, and with the fox seemingly un-spooked, Marc made the decision to switch lenses to try for a portrait. Although out of practice, his hands remembered what to do and he'd only looked away for a few seconds before getting back into position, but by the time his lenses were swapped and he was ready to shoot again, the fox was gone.

He waited another few minutes, just in case the animal had dipped back under the brush but there was nothing, not a hint of movement. Marc sighed. He knew he'd gotten some incredible photographs but he still couldn't help but be disappointed. Who knew when he'd get another chance like that one. At least he was now free to stand up, re-distribute blood to his legs, and swat away the non-trivial number of ants trying to make their way inside his clothes. As he was finishing up his nature dance and hoisting his pack back on, Marc heard a voice.

"Quite the show wasn't it?"

The voice was unnatural. The words and enunciation were clear but they came from somewhere deep inside the body; pushed out from the gut, wet. They oozed initially but broke into an even rasp as they lingered outside their speaker's jaws.

Marc started and turned around. He had expected to see a man but instead he found himself staring straight down at the fox from earlier. It spoke again.

"I don't usually eat with an audience, unless you count the food itself."

Marc continued to stare.

The fox grinned, "Oh, I suppose sneaking up on someone is a little rude, isn't it? I'd introduce myself although at this point I'd say you're much more familiar with me than I am with you so I think it's only fair that you go first."

Marc took a deep breath and rubbed his eyes, "I-I'm... uh... my name is Marc."

"Ah, pleasure to meet you Marc," said the fox. "I'd offer you my name in return but alas, I don't have the luxury of being called anything other than what I am."

"Uh... yeah, n-nice to meet you too."

"Marc I know you're a bit surprised but do try not to stutter, it doesn't suit you." The fox stepped closer, "You're larger than me so you really have no reason to feel intimidated. Imagine if I'd wavered in front of my little mousey snack just a moment ago. That wouldn't have made for a very impressive picture, would it? In nature... dominance is everything."

Marc was silent.

The fox looked pleased with himself and continued to speak. "Well, I suppose that could be interpreted as stoicism at least. Marc, I'm afraid I must be going. You're welcome to join me, of course, but it's really up to you."

And with that, the fox slipped off into the trees. Marc wasn't exactly sure what was going on, but he knew there wasn't much time to mull it over. He had a choice to make, but it didn't feel like much of a choice at all. It wasn't very often that you met a talking fox, he knew that much, and so without more than a couple of seconds of thought, Marc followed.

~

He couldn't say exactly how long he'd been chasing after the fox, but Marc imagined it must have been a few hours at least. He was hungry and thirsty and in his rush to not lose track of his new friend, Marc had left his pack behind. Following the fox was tough going. The animal was smaller than Marc and could slip through the dense woods with ease. At first Marc had just been following along out of curiosity, but at this point it was more out of desperation and survival. He had next to no idea where he was and he knew that if he lost track of the fox, he'd likely not find his way out of these woods before dark. He had no idea where the fox was leading him but anywhere was better than nowhere.

The other thing that had begun to wear on him was that the fox had not spoken to him again since they set off. In fact, Marc had begun to wonder whether or not he'd really heard the animal speak at all. His one comfort was that although the fox did not wait for Marc, it did not seem to be trying to get away from him. In these woods a fox would be able to lose someone of Marc's size with ease, but this one never quite slipped out of sight. That, at least, was peculiar.

Over what Marc imagined must have been the past few miles, the woods had begun to grow darker and although the foliage was dense and the sky obscured, a breeze had begun to pick up and the air grew colder. He'd packed a jacket but it was of course back with all the rest of his gear. Thankfully, the quick pace needed to keep up with the fox kept Marc warm enough.

Woods have a smell to them, rich and earthy. A deep, organic, living, smell. These woods were no exception but the smell was growing stronger than Marc had ever experienced it before. The very air around him had begun to feel alive. Each breath he took made him feel like he was inviting the woods into him. He breathed in what the woods breathed out and Marc was starting to feel lightheaded-drunk. He'd no idea how long he'd been running for. He hadn't even realized that he was running before this moment. His body ached. He was hungry and thirsty and tired and he was sprinting and it was hard to breathe. He could barely see where he was going, barreling towards the faint tufts of orange fur that occasionally peaked out in front of him. Branches scraped along his face and arms. Leaves stuck to his hair. Sweat bled through his pants and weighed him down. He closed his eyes and he flew.

When he opened them again, Marc found himself face down in the dirt. He groaned and turned himself over and found himself eye to eye with the fox.

"Welcome back, Marc," said the fox. It gave him a single, slow lick across his left cheek, "I'm glad you could join me."

Marc sat up, "Where are we?"

"Nowhere in particular."

"But... I thought you were taking me somewhere."

"Why would you think that?" The fox chuckled, "And why would that matter?" He circled around to Marc's left and nodded towards a small pool of water. "I'm sure you're thirsty. Here, drink."

As much as Marc was annoyed at the fox's response, it was hard to argue against having a drink. He stood up and plodded over to the pool. The water was still and there was no clear runoff to have filled it up. He was always wary of drinking unfiltered water in the woods, especially still water, but he had to drink something, and he supposed the pool could be fed by an underground stream. As the fox watched, Marc brought his face to the pool and drank deep. The water tasted good, certainly not stale as he had feared, but it was cold as ice and he felt it flow through him as he drank. It seemed almost as if it didn't stop in his stomach but continued to course through to the tips of his toes. He sat back and shivered.

"Good?" The fox asked.

"Very good."

"You can close your eyes if you'd like. It might help."

"What do you mean?"

The fox nuzzled into Marc's side, "It's a lot to handle, just relax."

Marc felt his body begin to tingle. It started in his stomach and slowly worked its way outwards, mirroring the water's chill. The clearing seemed bigger than it had before.

The fox put one paw on Marc's chest and gave it a firm push. "Just lie down. It'll all be fine."

Marc was surprised by the force the animal exerted and found himself lying face up on the dirt floor. His clothes felt looser than he'd remembered. He felt a little outside himself, but it felt good. The fox nuzzled its head against Marc's. The fur was soft and Marc could feel the warmth of the animal's skin beneath it. Marc felt the organic wetness of the fox's breath as it whispered in his ear, "Relax. Listen to my voice. Feel the dirt beneath you. Just lay back and let it take you. Just... relax..."

Marc's heart started to beat faster. Something wasn't right. As he stared upwards the trees seemed to be moving further away and the fox's presence grew by the second. He wanted to leave. He tried to stand up but felt the weight of the fox's paw force him back down.

"Marc, just calm down. No need to make this harder than it needs to be."

He was really concerned now. The paw against his chest was massive, like a lion's. No fox was this large. He wanted to stand up. He had to stand up and go. His breathes grew louder and his entire body shook but the paw held him firm.

The fox continued to try and soothe him. "Shhhhh.... shhhhhh", he whispered. "It'll all be over soon, it'll all be OK. I promise. Everything's fine, Marc. Just relax."

The fox's voice was louder now. It had always seemed louder than should've been possible, but now it was practically flowing through him. When the beast spoke, Marc didn't just hear it, he felt it. He felt the vibrations of the creature's voice roll over him. He felt the power it had. His heart kept pumping but his body lost its will to fight. The paw, now nearly covering his entire chest, released him. Marc closed his eyes.

The voice grew louder still, "Good boy. Good. Feel yourself slip away. You're a part of these woods now, Marc. Let them take you."

He kept his eyes closed for what he imagined was a few minutes more, all the while the fox watched over him and spoke soothing words. Marc knew at this point he was shrinking, though he didn't quite believe it. As the tingling began to subside, he realized he was no longer laying on the dirt, but inside a tent of cloth. Marc opened his eyes and saw the blurred form of the fox standing over him, peering at him through his cotton prison. The form began to shift and Marc felt the cloth slide away. The shirt was lifted up and Marc, unable to find purchase, tumbled naked to the dirt below.

Shaky, he stood up and turned around. Marc was now roughly the size of a mouse and the fox towered over him. He let out an involuntary whine.

The fox brought his head down to Marc and grinned. Marc had never felt so intimidated in all his life. The sheer power of the creature in front of him in comparison to his own was incredible. He was frozen in place and found himself unable to move as the fox's warm breath washed over him.

"Oh Marc, just look at you," said the fox. "I feel like I'm meeting you for the first time." He opened his massive jaws and gave Marc a slow lick. The tongue scraped over Marc's entire body and covered him in a thick coat of drool. He could hear the fox gulp down his flavor as its tongue retreated back into its mouth.

"Mmmm, well met, Marc. I mentioned earlier that I do not have a name, but I feel now that I should give you something to think of me as other than 'the fox', seeing as we're about to get very acquainted with each other. So I think..." the fox licked his lips, "I think you might as well consider me your god."

Marc could barely open his mouth but he felt compelled to. "Ah-ah... oh no no n-no."

"Ah, Marc... what did we say about those stutters?" The fox smiled, "Of course, seeing as you're the smaller creature now, I guess it's more appropriate."

"What are you going to do to me?"

"Shhhhh... Marc hush. It'll all be fine, don't worry. We're going to get through this together."

The fox lifted one of his massive paws and brought it down on top of Marc's head and chest. The leathery pads were smooth against his bare skin and the fox's scent was overpowering. Marc's eyes were blocked but he could still hear his captor speak.

"How does it feel, Marc?" The paw moved slowly back and forth, kneading him into the ground, "How does it feel to be so powerless? To be at the mercy of something so much greater than yourself?"

Marc tried to scream out, but the paw muffled his voice.

"Marc, shhhh. There's no use screaming. You saw how much good it did that mouse I caught earlier."

Those words pierced him like an arrow. He knew he was in trouble but he hadn't stopped to really consider the extent of it. The fox was going to eat him, there was no doubt in his mind, and there was nothing he could do. Absolutely nothing.

The paw lifted but the smell remained. He felt like he belonged to the fox, like he was part of him. He tried to stand up. A massive paw slammed against his left side and Marc felt the wind leave him. He tumbled off a few feet and landed, crumpled, in a pile of leaves. Before he could even take another breath, the fox was back on him. Another paw slammed down on his back, pushing him into the ground, and he felt the fox's stale breath wash over him as it lowered its face in front of his own and spoke.

"Don't make the mistake of thinking you can get away, Marc." The fox hissed, "This isn't about you anymore. I own you."

The paw lifted off him again and Marc gasped for breath. Nothing felt broken but the swipe had left him badly bruised. That is, it would leave him badly bruised assuming he'd be around long enough for any bruises to form.

The fox spoke again. "Marc, none of this should shock you. You know what happens next, you're a nature photographer, after all. This isn't violence, this is life. But..." The fox pushed his nose right up against Marc's body, "I'm going to offer you a courtesy I don't usually afford my prey. Would you like to ask me what that is?"

"W-what is it?"

"I want you to tell me, Marc. Would you rather go down in pieces, or should I swallow you whole?"

Marc's stomach dropped. What kind of a choice was that? How could he possibly answer a question like that?

"Time's ticking, Marc. If you don't answer then I think I might as well take my time ripping you apart." The fox extended a single claw and ran it along Marc's chest, "It's been a while since I really took my time playing with a meal."

"No!" Marc shouted, "Oh God, no! No no no!"

"Marc, you have to choose. You can't just yell. What would you like me to do with you?"

"Please, anything but that. Don't tear me to pieces, please."

"Marc..." the fox sighed, "Marc I did not ask you what you don't want. I asked you what you do want. Now I won't ask you again, what would you like me to do with you? I want to hear you say it."

"I-I want you to..." Marc felt a shiver flow through him, "I want you to swallow me whole... like that mouse."

The fox grinned wider than he had all day. "Oh Marc, I'd love to. I think it might feel nice, don't you?" He gave Marc another lick, slower than before, "Imagine sliding down my throat. Imagine sinking down deep inside of me. My heartbeat lulling you towards your final sleep. You'll be a part of something great, Marc. You'll love it."

The fox opened up his massive jaws and yawned. His tongue curled outward and his throat opened up, pink flesh fading into black. Marc could only watch in terror as the jaws clicked shut just inches in front of him before opening back up and moving in closer than they had before. They enveloped him. The tongue worked its way underneath his body and coaxed him in while the teeth clamped down firm and held him in place. Marc felt the sickening feeling of vertigo take hold as the fox's head lifted him up off the ground.

He had been licked by the animal several times, and pinned underneath its paws several more, but being inside of its mouth was a new level of terror. Whereas before he had felt powerless and toyed with, Marc now felt completely inhuman. He truly felt like a piece of food.

The fox didn't swallow him immediately. The tongue slid under him and pressed against his naked body, tasting him, as the fox sucked down the flavor-soaked saliva. As the fox suckled him, Marc found himself wishing he was a mouse. The fox had at least made quick work of that creature, there was no teasing there. It wasn't fair. It wasn't fair that he was made to suffer more than a mouse. It was if the fox was feeding off his fear and suffering just as much as his body.

Of course, as much as Marc wished for the swallowing to start, he wasn't prepared for it. He felt the fox flick back its head and he stifled a scream as the fleshy organ beneath him shifted and coaxed him deeper into the fox's jaws. It felt unreal. He wanted to be anywhere other than here. Marc could see the darkness of the fox's throat calling to him and he knew that once it had grabbed him, it would not let go. The fox swallowed again and this time Marc's scream wasn't stifled. Now covered entirely in drool, there was nothing he could grab hold of. Even if he wasn't afraid of the gnashing teeth, there was no way his tiny fingers could hold onto those slicked up pearls.

Now that he was nearing the back of the tongue, things were looking even more hopeless. The tongue was thicker here, and the saliva coating it had a higher concentration of mucus. As the fox swallowed a third time, Marc felt his right leg sink into the grip of the throat. The esophagus took hold and began to tug him down all on its own. He tried desperately to resist but he couldn't budge. Marc was exhausted, lightheaded from the stale air, and cinched firmly in place by a prison of flesh and bone. His face was smooshed into the fox's tongue but he could still make out his surroundings enough to see the jaws close around him. The light began to fade and the pressure around his body increased as the available room diminished. He was forced against the roof of the mouth, only a faint sliver of light sneaking in between the fox's not-quite-closed lips. The sounds were more intense now, too. Marc was hyper aware of the sound the fox's drool-slicked tongue made as it slid around him. Wet meat sliding against itself and him.

The fox swallowed a fourth time. Marc's world shifted downwards again and only his head remained in the mouth. The rest of his body was firmly in the grip of the animal's throat. It was all he could do to breathe. His chest felt crushed and a firm layer of mucus covered his face. The fox's jaws closed completely and it swallowed one last time. The back of the tongue pushed against Marc's face and sucked him down. He was now inside the blackness he so desperately feared. Every inch of him was covered in slime and pressed against pulsating flesh. He couldn't breathe.

He sank and the concept of time ceased to exist. All Marc could think about was how long it would take for them to find his gear. Would anyone guess what had happened to him? How could they? What would everyone think? Would they find his clothes deep within the woods, or would those too be lost forever?

These thoughts were interrupted as the world opened back up beneath his feet and he began to spill out into the fox's stomach. Although he was small, he was the perfect meal for something the fox's size and the stomach was small as well. Marc could feel its walls immediately. There was barely room to keep his head above the stomach soup of goop and half-digested mouse. There was a tiny pocket of air to breathe, but it was rancid and made him retch. This was not a place fit for life. It was for food. It was for him. A sudden gust of air blew through the stomach on its way out. He could hear the faint echo of a belch, and the space grew much too tight. The room shifted and Marc's head was forced under. He couldn't breathe, and while this was now a sensation he had experienced several times, he still struggled. The thrashing did nothing to help, though, as there was no air left at all.

The fox let out a second belch as it trotted towards the pool of water. He leaned down and drank long. The water was cool and he could feel it deep within him. The little man inside his stomach thrashed harder as the water flooded in, but it was not an unpleasant feeling, so the fox was unconcerned.

He finished his drink and laid down. It had been a long day and he had just eaten double what he normally did. He was tired. As the thrashing died down within him, he spoke one last time.

"I don't know if you can hear me or not in there, Marc, but I like to imagine that you can. I've really enjoyed getting to know you, and I can only hope that you feel the same. I know I said this before, but I really do mean it." The fox belched again, "Well met, Marc... well met indeed."

And with that, the fox drifted off to sleep.

[Tril]

Wonderful

I really loved everything. Micro/macro, talking feral and everything treating as natural <3

I think you did very good with the dialog and it left me almost wanting more!

[RabidChipmunk]

Wonderful

I really loved everything. Micro/macro, talking feral and everything treating as natural <3

I think you did very good with the dialog and it left me almost wanting more!

Glad to hear it, thanks!

[GBBG]

Nice, I think it's well written.

[SpiceWeasel]

Good job! I liked your description of the environment.

[RabidChipmunk]

New story! Really pushed myself with this one. Hope you enjoy!

M/M, Lucario/Human, Oral Vore, Fatal, Unwilling, Digestion, Cruelty

*Warning*
This is an adult-only story and contains cruel situations, fatal vore, and digestion. Please know your own limits and do not read any further if these things upset you.

---

Surprise Party
Gallery Link

Mark felt old. It was mostly just in his head, he knew that, but he'd turned 30 today and that was a pretty big milestone. It was the first time he'd truly dreaded his birthday. This feeling of minor existential panic was compounded a bit by the present that now lay in the palm of his hand; a present he'd bought himself. It was a tiny plastic fish that told your fortune. It was sort of a tradition for him at this point to just buy himself a gift, he'd just kind of stopped getting presents from anyone else and it felt wrong to not have anything to open. This year he'd bought a blind-bag from some overstock site. The bags cost 50 bucks and were full of random merchandise they'd had trouble getting rid of. It could be anything from a broken pencil to a brand new iPod. Mark had gotten a bag full of hundreds of tiny "Fortune Teller Miracle Fish". Loose-leaf fish, actually, these boys didn't even come individually wrapped. There was a single photocopied instructional page sent along in the bag. Mark guessed that was sort of thoughtful at least.

There was a time in his life where he'd probably have appreciated owning his very own school of talented fish but right now he was just sort of disappointed. A lone fish lay on his open palm, its tail flapping up and down. According to the instructions that meant "Indifference". Like he really needed a fish to tell him that.

Mark let out an irritated groan and stuffed the fish back into the bag with the rest of its friends. Useless. He stood up to toss them out but stopped himself short. He giggled as a thought popped into his head. It was dumb but he was feeling petty. Mark giggled a second time and marched straight towards his bathroom. He lifted the toilet lid, emptied the contents of the bag into the water below, and turned the handle.

"Be free", he whispered.

The red mass of plastic fish swirled around the porcelain bowl, seemingly alive for the first time ever, before enthusiastically streaming down through the pipes to a place where their fortune telling prowess would no longer serve to delight and amuse. Mark turned off the bathroom light and left the room, oblivious to the singular plastic fish that had missed the toilet and flittered down to the bathroom floor, where it now lay, motionless.

--

Mark did not sleep well that night. In part because he'd drunk a bit too much and had woken up more than once to send the contents of his stomach off to join the fish from earlier, but also because of his dreams. Or rather, it might be more accurate to say 'dream', singular. He had what felt like the same nightmare at least 5 times that night. In his dream the world was pitch black, but behind that were the unmistakable feelings of intense oppressiveness and pure dread. Nothing in particular really happened in this dream, but the longer it went on the more intense those emotions grew. Each time, just before he felt he'd reached his breaking point, he'd wake up encased in his sheets and covered in sweat. It felt like he'd been boiling alive. After the fourth instance of this he threw his sheets completely off the bed, but the dream still managed to recur. Only this time around Mark found things a little different upon waking up.

The man felt himself jolt back into consciousness yet again and immediately knew what was going on. Just like before, he was wrapped up tight inside his sheets and dripping with beads of sweat. The intense feeling of nightmarish dread already felt foreign as he lay there in recognition of his present situation. How on earth had his sheets gotten back on his bed? He huffed in irritation and began to untangle himself for the fifth time that night. Or at least, he tried to untangle himself. The opening was underneath him, clearly, but he couldn't turn himself over. It almost felt like they were caught on something. Just as he was about to struggle some more, a chill ran down his spine and he froze. He could have sworn he heard something. A snort.

There was someone, or something, in the room with him. He stayed perfectly still, adrenaline beginning to course through his body. There it was again. There was no mistaking it, he'd heard it for sure. Another snort. Inhuman. Bestial. There was something in the room with him and it wasn't another person. Mark wasn't sure if that was better or worse. He wasn't sure what to do. Had he forgotten to close a window before falling asleep? He'd been pretty drunk so it wasn't out of the question. Whatever was in the room with him could be anything from a raccoon, to a stray cat, to something truly dangerous like a mountain lion. He lived in the hills, that sort of thing wasn't unheard of. In the latter case, playing dead might be the best option, he supposed, but before he had time to think about it any further his mind was made up for him. The sheets were ripped out from under him and the lights snapped on. He was exposed. But not only that, he was now staring face to face with the thing, or rather, 'things', that had worked their way into his home. He was staring down two rather large lucarios.

The two pokemon immediately burst into hysterics. One was covering his mouth with his paws, that was where the snorts had been coming from, but the other had given up any attempt at hiding his amusement and was doubled over, tears in his eyes from laughing so hard. Mark was free to move now but he just stared. He knew what he was looking at but he didn't really believe it. A childhood character come to life like this made zero sense. He had no clue what he should be doing in this situation. Was he still dreaming? It didn't really feel like it. Should he be trying to run? Would they try to chase him?

While he was still contemplating things, the laughter died down and the two pokemon stared him straight in the eye. They held his gaze for an uncomfortably long period, grinning wide the entire time. The one on the right broke the silence first.

"Hey there, Mark."

The pokemon's voice was surprisingly human; flamboyant even. Mark wasn't really sure how he'd expected it to sound but it wasn't like this. The lucario giggled at his blank expression.

"I'd extend you a paw but you seem a little nervous, buddy. Since we know who you are already I guess we should introduce ourselves!"

The two pokemon put an arm around the other's shoulders and touched heads.

"I'm Puck," said the one on the right.

"And you can call me Royal," the other giggled.

The two looked and sounded near identical to each other. They stared at him a few seconds more before Puck spoke up again.

"Aren't you excited to meet us?"

"Because we're sure excited to meet you!" Royal chimed in.

Mark wasn't really sure how to react but he managed to crack a half-hearted smile. As bizarre as this all was, the pair seemed friendly enough. Puck unhooked his arm from Royal and moved to put his front paws on Mark's chest. He pushed down hard and slid them upwards. The lucario's paw pads were a leathery and a little rough. It didn't hurt but he could feel the strength of the pokemon's arms and it scared him. Mark tried to move away but Puck kept him pinned. The pokemon locked eyes with Mark and straddled him, leaning forward so his snout was almost touching Mark's face.

"Hey now, we just got here. You're not gonna try and leave without getting to know us a little better are you?"

Royal popped his head in next to Puck's. Mark could feel them breathing against his face; there was nowhere to move to get away from it.

"What's the matter, Mark?" asked Royal. "You don't seem to like us all that much."

"Maybe he doesn't think we're real," giggled Puck.

"Oooo, Mark is that true? Are you too old to believe in us?"

"I think big ol' Mark's too manly and tough to play with a couple of cute little Pokemon like us."

The two leaned in closer; each of their mouths touching one of Mark's ears. Their warm breath tickled as they spoke, making him shudder.

"We're not just for kids, ya' know. We can play pretty rough."

"And we're *real* good at it."

The two kept Mark pinned down and began to work their mouths over his face, moaning in exaggerated ecstasy and occasionally breaking off the assault to make out with one another. Their tongues, though slick with saliva, were slightly rougher than a dog's. After a few minutes of being worked over, Mark's face had turned red and started to hurt from the excessive exfoliation. Whenever he tried to plead with the two pokemon to stop, one of them would put its mouth of his own and kiss him, deep. The taste wasn't bad, surprisingly, but being treated this way was humiliating and dehumanizing. Before long, his entire head was slicked over with a thick coat of drool, and covered with stray tufts of blue fur. Every breath he took tasted like them.

After what felt like an eternity, the two pokemon pulled back and lay their heads down on either side of him. Each let out a contented sigh. Royal put a paw on Mark's head and pushed the man's drool-soaked hair out of his face.

"You hangin' in there, buddy?"

Mark shivered as the pokemon's warm breath washed over his rapidly drying face. His face tingled and burned a little from the layers of skin that had been scraped off by the lucarios' tongue bath, but now as their spit dried, it felt unnaturally tight as well-as if it was a couple of sizes too small and had been forcefully stretched over his skull. He lay there in silence for a few moments, just trying to catch his breath and take stock of his situation. The two pokemon framed his body. Royal had a paw on his head, occasionally stroking his hair, while Puck had draped himself over Mark's body and was resting his head on the man's chest. They were stronger than him. The only way he'd be able to get away is if they fell asleep, but if they were on top of him then there wasn't any way he'd be able to move without waking them up. Things didn't look good. His only chance of escape was probably just to do what they wanted. They couldn't stick around forever.

"I-I'm okay," Mark said.

Puck perked up a bit, hearing him speak, "Oooo, so he can talk after all!"

"Such a talented boy", Royal cooed, giving him a wet kiss on the cheek.

Mark felt his cheeks go red, "W-what do you want from me?"

Both pokemon laughed.

Royal propped himself up on his elbow and spoke first, "Hmmm, I dunno Puck, what DO we want?"

Puck gave Mark's ear a nibble, "Mark... all we want is you, buddy."

As soon as those words left Puck's mouth, he sprang into action. The pokemon forced a paw over Mark's mouth and wrapped the other tight around the man's chest, bringing him in close and holding him tight. Mark felt the pokemon's chest spike dig slightly into his back and he tensed up.

"Don't struggle, Mark. One wrong move and my spike could accidentally go straight through your spinal cord", Puck whispered into his ear. "Just relax ok? We'll get through this together, I promise."

As Puck held him in place, Royal rolled over to the foot of the bed and grabbed Mark's feet in his paws. The two locked eyes and Royal ran his tongue over the man's feet, just like he'd been doing to his face a few minutes before. Mark wanted to struggle but the cold steel of Puck's spike kept him paralyzed in fear. All he could do was lay there as the lucario suckled and nibbled away at him. The pokemon's teeth were razor sharp, and although he wasn't trying to draw blood, Mark's feet were sensitive and he winced as he felt Royal's pin-prick fangs worked their way over his soles. His eyes teared up a bit and he let out an inadvertent groan.

Puck lifted the paw over his mouth and used it to wipe away Mark's tears.

"Shhhhh", he cooed, "You gotta be brave for us, okay Mark? I know it's scary but things are only gonna get worse for you from here so you just gotta hang in there. It's gonna be a long night so stay with us, buddy. We know you can do it."

Puck's words did nothing to comfort him, and he felt another jolt of adrenaline kick in as it hit him that he might not make it out of this alive. He didn't know what the two lucarios had planned for him but it sounded rough. Before he could say anything in response, Puck clamped a paw back over his mouth and directed Mark's face towards his own. Puck began to lick him once again-slowly, tantalizingly.

Mark was under sensory overload. There was a mouth on either end of him, four distinct paws rubbing over various parts of his body, a steel spike digging into his back, and a whole suite of pungent odors to choose from. He struggled just to remain conscious of his situation but he was jolted immediately back to reality by what Royal was doing to his feet. The pokemon had stopped nibbling and had moved to sucking, but something felt off about it. Mark no longer felt the rough interior of the lucario's maw pushing against his toes. He only felt flesh. It was like a singular tongue had fully encased his feet, but that didn't make any sense. Then the reality hit him like a ton of bricks. It was obvious. Royal was eating him. He was going to be swallowed alive.

Puck's chest spike be damned, he was going to die anyway if he didn't do anything! Mark threw himself into a frenzy. He thrashed around with all his might. He braced himself for the impact of that threatening steel. He fully expected to feel it drive into his back, but there was nothing. In fact, neither of the two did anything to try and stop him. Royal continued to gulp at his legs and Puck just giggled and gave his ear a playful nibble.

"Mark, come on. You know that's not gonna work, right?"

The lack of any real reaction from his captors deflated him almost immediately. Puck's earlier threat must've just been for the pokemon's own amusement. For the first time, the full reality of his situation came crashing down on him and he went completely limp. There really was nothing he could do. Tears trickled from his eyes again.

Puck scowled, "Aw boo! Mark you weren't supposed to give up this early. That's no fun at all, now is it?"

Puck shifted over and eased Mark down so he was lying face up on the bed. The lucario straddled his chest and placed his foot paws on either side of Mark's face, forcing his head upright. Puck was a good amount larger than Mark was, and the pokemon felt heavy enough sitting on top of him that it was a bit difficult to breathe. Additionally, Puck's paw pads were rough, something Mark was made acutely aware of as the lucario slowly rubbed them around the sides of his head.

"Royal's taking his sweet time gobbling you up, and I'm sooo bored." Puck slid his paws over to Mark's cheeks and squished them together as he spoke, "Talk with me, Mark! You gotta! It's no fun if you just sit there quietly!"

Mark didn't want to talk with Puck. At this point in time he didn't want to see Puck or even be in the same universe as him. There was no way he was going to give this creature the satisfaction of a conversation while his friend ate him alive. As he lay there brooding, Mark heard Royal groan in exaggerated ecstasy from around his legs and he felt himself slip deeper into the lucario's throat.

"Mark, come o-on", Puck whined, "It's no fair that Royal gets to have all the fun. Talk to me! Tell me how you're feeling!"

The paws pushed harder against Mark's cheeks. It was starting to hurt and he got the sense Puck wasn't pushing anywhere near as hard as he could.

"S-stop!" Mark grunted.

The feet around Mark's head gave one last forceful push and then were moved away. The pokemon's legs still framed his view but they no longer pushed against him and he let out a sigh of relief.

Puck was happy too.

"He speaks!" Puck leaned in closer and flashed a toothy grin, his warm breath washing over Mark's face, "Mark your voice is so cute! What do you think of mine? Do you think my voice is cute too?"

Mark didn't want to answer but he had a feeling that if he stayed silent, the pokemon's paws find their way right back to his face.

"Y-yeah..."

Puck giggled leaned over to give Mark's forehead a light kiss, "Aw, thanks sweetie. I'm glad you think so, because this cute little voice is gonna be keeping you company for the rest of your short little life."

Mark grimaced, both at Puck's statement because he felt Royal's teeth dig into his thighs; both painful reminders of where he was heading. Puck burst out laughing and gave Mark's hair a playful tussle. It would've been comforting in any other context.

"So what's it feel like?"

"What do you mean?"

"Mark, don't be coy! You know what I mean!" Puck reached out and caressed Mark's cheek with his left paw, "What's it feel like to be swallowed alive?"

Mark tried his best to keep composure. It was hard not to react, though he knew the lucario was feeding off his discomfort.

"Y-you're horrible!"

"Come on Mark, I'm dying to know and you're literally dying to tell me."

Mark blinked back a few tears but stayed silent.

"Well if you're not gonna talk to me then I'll just have to make my own fun."

Puck used both his hand-paws to lock Mark's head in a tight grip. The pokemon then leaned in and opened his mouth as wide as it could go, giving Mark an uncomfortably close view. Puck's warm breath wafted over his face. Heavy, wet, and near unbreathable. He tried to turn away but Puck's grip was strong. The pokemon's open maw moved closer and closer and Mark braced himself for an assault. He expected Puck to bite down, to suckle him, to mash his tongue into his face and slather him in warm spit, but just before impact the pokemon drew back, closed his mouth, and smiled.

"Oooh Mark, I can barely contain myself around you. I know you want me to eat you, and I'd love to I really would, but it's Royal's turn tonight so we've gotta be good." Puck let go of Mark's head and changed focus to the man's right hand. He picked it up and gave the pinky a careful nibble. "Though maybe if I just took a finger or two..."

Mark shivered. He knew what the lucario was getting at and he didn't for a second doubt the legitimacy of the threat.

"Stop! God, please don't' do that! I'll talk with you, I promise."

Puck kept his eyes locked on Mark's own and popped the pinky into his mouth with a grin. He teased the finger with his teeth, gnawing a little but not biting down hard enough to draw blood. He let Mark squirm for a minute until he finally spit it out.

"Tell me how it feels, Mark."

Mark breathed an inward sigh of relief. He was terrified of Royal swallowing him, but at least it wasn't painful. The threat of having his fingers chewed off was too much. He looked away from Puck and whimpered.

"It's... warm."

Puck raised his eyebrows. "Oh come on, Mark, you can do better than that. What else? Start with your feet, what do they feel?"

Mark wanted to break down and cry, but he kept himself together. This was humiliating but he couldn't risk making it any worse. He took a deep breath.

"S-slimy. It's like it's alive. It's like his throat is alive, it's pulsing and pulling me deeper and deeper inside of him and I'm scared, I'm so scared because I don't know where I'm going to end up. I don't know what it'll feel like when I'm all the way inside, I-", Mark's voice trailed off as he felt Royal swallow around him once again, this time drawing his dick into the lucario's ravenous jaws. As uncomfortable as he'd felt before, this was way worse. The pokemon wasn't giving his sensitive bits any extra attention but having his member pushed up against the inside of Royal's mouth while the lucario tongued his ass felt violating in a way he wasn't prepared for. He felt himself grow hard against his will and the will to fight came rushing back to him.

Mark started to thrash. His legs were held so firmly in Royal's throat that he couldn't move them, but his upper body went wild. He threw back his fists and attempted to bring them down hard against the pokemon's head, but Royal was expecting it. Instead of smashing against fur and bone, Mark felt his wrists land in the rough confines of Royal's paws. The lucario snatched them out of the air with ease and immediately pinned them against the man's sides. Royal took one more deep swallow and used his paws to guide Mark's hands into his mouth. His jaws clamped shut, teeth digging into the man's waist, and he let out a rush of air. An open-mouth sigh of amusement.

Mark felt the fight leave him once again. All his struggle had done was put him in a worse position. With his hands trapped, he couldn't even support himself on the bed any longer and he felt entirely helpless. Royal flipped over to lay on his back, and Mark groaned as his world flipped 180 degrees and his face pushed into the sheets. Luckily, Puck was there for support.

Puck took Mark's head in his paws and eased his face into his lap, where he stroked his hair and cooed.

"Aw, poor Mark. I know it's tough but you're doing super good, buddy. Keep going, tell me more. I bet your feet are in Royal's belly by now. What's it like? Tell me."

He found himself starting to speak without even realizing it. He didn't know why, but something about describing it all out loud made his situation feel slightly less horrible. It gave him some small measure of control.

"It's... there's more room now. The pressure is gone but the space is still so small. I'm not going to... I don't think I'm going to fit. I can feel the... walls. My feet can feel the entire stomach. He can't eat me! He won't be able to eat me, will he? There's no way he can fit me in there."

Puck continued to stroke Mark's hair. "Oh don't worry about that, sweetie, you'll fit. You'll be nice and snug, but I promise you'll slide on in there just fine. Royal's got plenty of room for you, okay? Keep going. What else do you feel? Tell me about his mouth."

"It's scary. His mouth is the scariest part. It's... it's like he could bite me in half at any moment and I couldn't do anything about it. He's so gentle but he doesn't have to be."

"Oh, Royal's got an impressive set of chompers on him that's for sure! He likes you a lot though, Mark, I can tell. As long as you're good, he wouldn't ever hurt you like that."

"B-but he IS hurting me! He's eating me!"

"Shhhh..." Puck pushed his paw up against Mark's lips. "Hey, calm down, it's alright. That's just because you're poke'chow now! I guess maybe we forgot to explain that, but there's really no point in worrying about it. Food gets swallowed down and then our bellies take over and churn it up real good to make us big and strong. That's all. No reason to rough ya' up more than that though is there?"

Mark felt his eyes start to well up with tears, but he stayed silent.

Puck took his paw away from the man's lips and wiped away his tears.

"Hey, keep your chin up sweetie. You don't have to worry about anything, Royal's got it all under control. No more decisions left to make. Nothing else to worry about ever again. Your fate's already been written in stone. Just relax okay? Stop thinking about the future. Just keep talking to me about what you're feeling right this instant. What's his tongue feel like? I'll bet it's really soft, isn't it?"

"It's... yeah..."

"How does it feel to know he's tasting you?"

Mark croaked out another small sob. "I don't like it."

"Aw, why not?"

Mark was on the verge of completely losing his composure, "It's... he doesn't... neither of you sees me as anything but food!"

"Mmmm... and what's so bad about that? Don't you think you taste good?"

"W-what?"

"Don't you think you taste good, Mark? Don't you think Royal likes the way you taste?"

"Y-yes..."

Puck giggled. "Aw, Mark, if you taste good then there's nothin' to worry about, is there! The only way you could disappoint us is if you tasted gross." The lucario pressed his snout against Mark's ear and let out a heavy sigh. "You're... absolutely right, by the way. You do taste incredible." Puck licked and nibbled around Mark's ear. "You should be proud of that. You're gonna make for quite the meal! I wish I could eat you up myself. Now keep going Mark, what else?"

"I feel like... I feel like I belong to him."

"Well, that's because you do, silly! You're his dinner. Oop, hold on just a sec Mark, you're goin' for a little ride."

At this point Mark's was up to his neck in Royal's mouth. Now that leverage was more in the pokemon's favor, Royal carefully sat up. Mark felt a pang of vertigo as he watched his face lift away from Puck's lap and tilt backwards. Even though the motion was slow, it made him cry out in surprise. It really drove home how little control he had at this point. He almost felt like a part of the lucario, buried so deep inside of him like this and moving with his head. Since the back of Mark's neck was on the pokemon's tongue, he now found himself staring directly into his throat for the first time. He saw his drool-soaked shoulders sinking into the deep expanse of Royal's body. He also saw the pokemon's eyes, a deep and crimson red. They pierced him. He felt the lucario's callousness deeply and it terrified him.

Mark tilted his head back to shift his view outside of his predator's jaws and watched as Puck moved in from above towards Royal's open mouth. He expected the pokemon to continue to lavish him with attention, but for the first time in a while, Puck broke eye contact with Mark and stared instead at Royal. Puck grabbed the sides of Royal's head and pulled himself in for a kiss. It would've been romantic had he seen it from any other angle, but unfortunately for Mark, his face was caught in the middle. Royal swallowed again around him just before Puck's lips made contact the man's skin. His head was now almost entirely inside the lucario's jaws, but before he could process this, Puck's mouth opened in front of him and blotted out his view of the outside world.

The two pokemon embraced and locked each other in a deep, passionate kiss. Mark was shared between them. Their soft tongues explored every inch of his head and face, even working their way into his mouth when he opened it in an attempt to take in some fresh air. He groaned as the stale air from his captors' throats filled his lungs. From the outside, Royal's breath was sort of sweet, but experiencing it from deep from inside the pokemon's jaws, the breath just as intense and stale as any other creature's. The stink of unsweetened flesh filled Mark's senses. He felt himself grow lightheaded; his only oxygen the stale and used up breaths the two lovers passed between each other. Mark's entire face, really his entire body, was slick with fresh drool. The two pokemon were tasting him as they tasted each other; two tongues working together to strip him of all his remaining flavor and consequently, of all his humanity. The pair moaned and gasped around him, those sounds combining with the soft slick of flesh against flesh to overwhelm yet another of his senses. As much attention as the two pokemon had shown him, it was clear to Mark that they loved each other even more. He could feel their passion as they kissed each other through him.

Finally, the kissing stopped. Puck's mouth moved away and Mark saw the outside world through drool-dripped eyes ever so briefly once again before Royal gulped and closed his mouth around him. For one terrifying second, Mark thought he'd be pulled entirely into the lucario's throat, but his face caught against the back of Royal's maw and held in place. Faint streams of light poked into the maw through the pokemon's slightly parted lips as he breathed around him. The fresh air that wafted against his face from each inward breath was welcome and sweeter than any he could remember. The canine maw pulsed around him. Royal's teeth, what little he could see of them anyways, were truly frightening from this angle and Mark felt lucky the lucario hadn't decided it necessary to use them. It was almost peaceful here; certainly the most calm things had been since this whole ordeal started. Maybe it was just that there was no longer any hope of escape, but he felt an acceptance he hadn't previously thought possible. The thick tongue cradling the back of his head slid gently forward and back, forward and back, rhythmically lapping up against him and almost soothing in its steadiness.

After what seemed like a lifetime, the jaws surrounding him opened up in earnest, and Mark was greeted with Puck's smiling face towering over him once more. He saw Royal's arm reach out and brush Puck's cheek. The two seemed happy together.

"It's about time for us to say goodbye, Mark..." Puck looked genuinely disappointed, "but I've got one last parting gift to give you. I found this and thought you might like to give it one more go."

The lucario held out his paw so Mark could see. Grasped tight between Puck's fingers was one of Mark's fortune teller fish! Before he could react, Puck reached into Royal's mouth, squeezed Mark's cheeks hard enough to force his mouth open, and placed the fish on his now-exposed tongue. Mark sputtered and tried to push the fish away but his motion was limited and he couldn't get it out of his mouth. After staring at it for a few seconds, puck grabbed the fish back out and withdrew his paw. He giggled again and wagged the plastic fish so Mark could see.

"Aw, tough luck there, Mark! I'm sorry to say, but this lil' fish didn't move an inch once I dropped him on your tongue. According to the instructions, that means... you're a dead one!"

Before Mark could react, his entire world fell away. Royal's tongue pushed Mark's face against the roof of his mouth as the pokemon gulped as hard as he could. The last of him finally slid down past the back of the pokemon's throat. He watched helplessly as the tip of his head crested the top of Royal's tongue and his view transitioned to complete darkness as the lucario's throat sealed up behind him and cut him off entirely from the outside world. For 10 agonizing seconds he felt his face travel through the tight, punishing confines of Royal's esophagus. Thick mucus rubbed off on him as he passed over it and it formed an impenetrable membrane over his face that made it impossible to breath. It was a strange feeling, being at the mercy of another living creature's body. Inside of Royal's mouth, Mark could feel the lucario's sentience; the motion of the tongue betrayed his intelligence. But here, completely inside of him, Mark felt only the uncaring and impartial automation of an organic machine. It treated him entirely the same as every other piece of food, alive or not, that had ever been gifted to it. It spared him no thought or special comfort, and neither did it torment. It just did what it was made to do and forced him down to the similarly unfeeling stomach where he'd be digested like so much else before him. This was what it truly meant to be food.

After far too long, he felt his head pop free and enter the only slightly more spacious stomach where the rest of his body had been waiting for him for quite some time. He immediately clawed at his face to try and wipe the slime away from his nose and mouth, but it didn't do much since his hands had just traveled down the exact same path and were equally coated in a layer of slime. He managed to suck down a few breaths of air, but none of them were free of Royal's spit and stink, and he sputtered with each breath he took. The air in the stomach was meager even though Royal had sucked down some with his meal, and what little there was was pungent, moist, and only vaguely conducive to life. Still, all of this barely registered to Mark and he was just thankful he was able to breathe at all. True to Puck's word, Royal's stomach had expanded enough to fit him, though only barely. The stomach walls pushed against him from every direction and he found himself forced immediately into the fetal position and was almost completely unable to move. The walls had clearly been able to stretch enough to accommodate him, but only out of sheer necessity, and as he wiggled around he could barely get them to budge. Additionally, the thick goop inside the pokemon's stomach took up nearly all of the remaining space. If he'd have been swallowed head-first, he supposed he'd be upside-down and drowning right now, though maybe that would've been preferable as he was now hyper aware of one more detail, the probing paws of his captors.

Outside, Puck had his head placed firmly against Royal's belly in an attempt to listen to what was going on, and was kneading it quite roughly with his paws. He could feel Mark squirming inside, and knew that he could prolong that squirming the more he poked and prodded the man. He also knew how much Royal enjoyed feeling his meals move around and so he wanted to draw out as much of that as possible.

"Can you hear me in there, Mark?"

Inside the stomach, Mark groaned. He could hear everything. Puck's voice was a bit muted, having to travel through a few layers of fur, skin, muscle, and fat, but it was clear enough. He didn't want to give the pokemon the courtesy of an answer, but he couldn't help himself as he felt Puck's paws push up against him and squelch him around inside.

"It's okay, Mark, you don't have to say anything. I know you're listening. Royal's got something he wants to say to you."

Royal placed his paws on Puck's head, pushed it hard into his belly, and let out a moan.

"Ooooooh... Mark you were incredible, buddy. I'd eat you a second time if I could, I mean it. I'm really gonna enjoy breaking you down, though. I always love this part. It's gonna hurt, I'm not gonna lie to you, but don't worry, okay? Me and Puck will be here the whole time to keep you company. We'll get through this, and I expect you'll go through me real nice as well."

Royal let go of Puck's head and gave his belly a few firm pats. Puck but his chin on Royal's stomach and looked up at him, smirking.

"I don't think Mark's gonna be doin' so hot for that much longer."

"Oof, me either. I think he's got an hour or two tops before we can't play with him anymore."

Puck nudged an elbow into Royal's belly, prompting a few more squirms. "Ya' hear that Mark? Better make the most of the time you've got left in there! We'll do our best to make sure it's fun."

"Well, fun for us, anyways." Said Royal.

The two pokemon looked each other in the eye and giggled. Puck gave Royal's belly a little kiss and spoke again.

"I guess you could say that Mark here's been... Royally Pucked."

As the second part of that phrase left the lucario's lips, he shot a glance off into the corner of the room at what seemed like nothing in particular, and held that gaze until a booming voice pierced the silence.

"CUT!"

Puck and Royal groaned in unison and fell back against the bed. Over the next few seconds, the room began to fill with film equipment; cameras, tripods, microphones, lighting kits, all materializing seemingly out of thin air. Also visible now were dozens of what could only be described as demons and imps of all different shapes and sizes, each going about its assigned duties. Mark's room had been transformed into an active film set. One particularly portly creature, vaguely goat-like and covered in course brown hair, began to bark directions, spurts of flame shooting from his slitted nostrils with each breath.

"Alright everyone, get ready for the next scene, we don't have that much time. Someone get the talent's stomach mic'd up ASAP! If we miss even one minute more of digestion than we have to, I swear to the Dark Lord himself that every last one of you will personally get a chance to play the meal in one of our future endeavors, and don't expect to go down in one piece!"

There was a scurry of movement as everyone began to rearrange the room with renewed fervor. A swarm of imp-like critters converged on Puck and Royal with brushes and combs and set to work cleaning their fur while a 4-armed bat busied itself attaching a microphone to the surface of Royal's belly.

Puck rolled his eyes hard and groaned again.

"Remind me to gut whoever wrote that line for me, ugh. I swear to high hell, if I have to read another one-liner like that I'll walk. Even I've got my limits, Sam!"

"Don't be such a drama queen" Royal burped, "no one's listening to the dialogue anyways."

"If that's true, then why do I have any lines at all!?"

"Both of you, great job. Really wonderful performances, I mean it." The goat-creature from earlier was now staring down at them.

Puck gave his eyes another light roll and smiled. "Aw, thanks Sam. Anyways, we had a good co-star this time around, so it was easy."

"Yeah he was way more cooperative than they usually are, how'd you find this guy?" Royal chimed in. "Also, I can't say I've ever taken on such a... unique form before." He waved his paws around, gesturing to his own body. "I like it though."

Puck nodded in agreement. "Yeah, these bodies make us look pretty cute. Might just keep this one in the rotation for my own fun later on."

The goat man shrugged. "Not sure about the meat, you'd have to ask Lydia. I just show up. As far as the bodies go, you can thank market research for those. Studio's leading some big new push to branch out into other audiences or some crap like that. Anyways, folks are gonna eat this shit up, I can promise you that." He glanced down at his clipboard and crossed out a few things as he continued to talk. "Few things... Royal, gonna need you to refrain from burping as much as possible until the cameras are rolling again, okay? Let's save those struggles for when they can make us some money."

"Sorry Sam, this body isn't super big so it's hard to keep the air down. Could I at least have some water? I never remember how much salt is in these guys."

"You can have a little, but make sure you keep some room for air down there. We don't want him drowning before he starts to digest. Puck, the writer's on set today for once so let's try not to insult the man and burn any more bridges than we have to, yeah? I am intimately familiar with your feelings on dialogue, but our audience eats that shit up so until that ceases to be the case you're gonna keep reading the lines we give you."

"Yeah, okay Sam."

"Good. Now we're almost done for the day, so get back in character and let's wrap this sucker up." As he walked away, Sam raised his voice and directed it at the entire crew. "We're comin' up on the finish line here folks, so let's rally strong! Be ready to shoot in 5!"

Inside the lucario, Mark was struggling to piece together everything he'd just heard. As soon as he'd recognized other voices he'd tried to struggle and scream, but Royal immediately put a stop to that by contracting his stomach, squeezing him extremely hard and forcing the contents of the gut to rise up over his head until he calmed down. As far as he could tell from what he'd heard, he was on a film set, but that didn't make any sense. He was just in his house and there wasn't anyone else there with him! That said, having a film crew secretly record him inside his own home was much less farfetched than being swallowed alive by a pair of cartoon jackals, so he didn't really have much of a reason to doubt what he was hearing.

He felt Royal's paws push against him again and heard the lucario's voice echo through his body.

"Welcome to the splash zone, buddy."

Mark's cheek was pressed against the stomach sphincter, so he felt it pulse open and closed as glugs of warm water mixed with drool lazily poured onto his face. He felt the stomach juices start to rise with the addition of more liquid and he began to panic; thrashing around and pushing against the stomach walls with all his might in an unsuccessful attempt to expand his prison.

Royal let out a contented sigh, handed his water bottle to an assistant, and gave his belly another few pats.

"Don't struggle too much just yet, dude. You'll tire yourself out before digestion kicks in. We've got at least another hour of filming left, and you're gonna need every last bit of energy you've got."

Mark's muffled voice carried faintly through Royal's belly. It was hard to make out, but he got the idea.

"Please help me."

Royal chuckled and stifled a small burp so the director didn't hear. "Urp-sorry. Definitely not gonna do that, but if it makes you feel any better, a hell of a lot of folks out there are gonna be jerkin' it to you in a few weeks' time. You're gonna be a star, buddy. It's just too bad you won't be around to benefit."

The director's voice came booming out from the corner of the room. "Okay, places everyone!"

Royal laid down on the bed and Puck climbed on top of him, ready to start rubbing as soon as he was given the signal. No longer concerned with being incognito, the entire crew remained visible this time around. One camera hit a wide shot of the whole scene, while another had Royal's massive belly filling the entire frame. Over the course of the next few few seconds, the room grew silent until the only sounds that could be heard were the few faint gurgles and muffled sobs emanating from Royal's stomach.

"Action!"

The next hour for Mark was hell. The two pokemon kneaded him nonstop, both ensuring he could never find a comfortable position and helping the stomach's juices coat every part of his body. Every few minutes Royal would let out a massive belch; emptying the stomach of air and causing Mark to thrash around as he lost the ability to breathe. The lucario was a pro, having done this many times before, and knew exactly when to gulp down fresh oxygen to prevent Mark from ever passing out. It made for great video, but even better audio. The studio usually sold the uncut digestion track separate from the video itself if there was enough vocalization from the prey, and Mark was filling that role perfectly. Puck knew just what to say to get Mark talking again, whether that was promising him a way out, or threatening him with more kneading, and that meant mark cried, pleaded, and conversed with his tormentors for nearly the entire time he was melting away.

While he was kept conscious and continuously provoked, Mark noticed his energy slowly drain more and more as time went on until he finally lost the ability to do much more than groan. It was dark, oppressive, and overwhelmingly hot. Even if he hadn't been digesting, he wouldn't have been able to stay conscious here for too long. Unfortunately for him, however, he was digesting. His body started to tingle after the first half hour or so of captivity. After 45 minutes his skin itched and burned, the sensation mounting slowly over the course of the next 10 minutes to the point of near agony until it all culminated in him losing physical sensation entirely. It was at this point that he began his final slide out of consciousness. It was almost peaceful. His senses had been overwhelmed for so long now that this lack of feeling came as a massive relief. His mind felt numb to match his body. He felt warm and weightless.

Sensing his prey's diminishing will, Royal gave his stomach one final, massive push and belched again, this time not bothering to gulp down any air to replace what he had just expelled. He took his paws off his swollen belly, flopped his head against the sheets, and closed his eyes. Puck leaned down towards Royal's stomach and gave it one final, tender kiss before closing his own eyes and snuggling up against his partner. The two drifted off into sleep; perfectly content.

The cameras lingered there for a few minutes more as the duo's breathing slowed and relaxed into an even rhythm. The two had put on quite the performance, but it wasn't all acting. They liked their jobs. At the end of the day, that was sort of a requirement in this field. No one who didn't absolutely love the work lasted more than a few shoots. That was just the nature of things. But Puck and Royal truly enjoyed what they did, and they truly enjoyed each other's company as well. As the pair slept, they dreamt of all their future meals-to-be. They imagined all the fun new forms they'd get to shapeshift into, and all the delicious people they'd get to eat while doing so. They dreamt of past meals, and of devoted fans. They dreamt of each other's company. And as they dreamt, and as Mark slipped out of consciousness for the last time, each of them just barely registered the faint bark of the director shouting 'cut', but it hardly even caused them to stir, and it was soon forgotten.