AN UNUSUAL CRAVING
by Bitter
Esuria stirred gently. Sensations flooded her mind as the all-quieting darkness of sleep evaporated around her. She tilted her head on her pillow, looking at the little alarm clock that sat on her end-table. Its display read "2:37". Oh, how bothersome, she thought. She hated waking up in the middle of the night. Suddenly, she felt a few gentle kicks from within her belly. Yes, I know, baby, Esuria thought, stroking her swollen stomach. You don't like it when mommy can't sleep either. For she was pregnant, her third child almost ready to make its grand debut. Just a month or so more.
Now, Esuria did the same thing as always when her sleep was interrupted: relax and wait for the sandman to swing around again. Closing her eyes, she sank back into her pillow and sighed. Idly, she ran circles around her belly-button with the tip of a finger. Call her a traditionalist, but there was something delightful about the feeling of having a nice, round tummy, whether it was because of a baby or just good food. That proclivity had given her a bit more weight than was generally considered attractive, but it was a price she was willing to pay. And her husband, Marcus, was perfectly happy with her body the way it was, so she was perfectly content with her figure.
As these thoughts flitted through her mind, Esuria suddenly heard her stomach growl. Well, of course it would. It was usually empty this time of night. She decided to ignore it. Sleep would put it back into hibernation until morning, when she would fix it a delicious breakfast. Esuria, having a love of good food, had naturally developed a talent for creating it. That was, perhaps, one of the leading reasons for her generous curves. But, she reminded herself, she could eat in the morning. Now, she needed rest. For herself and for her little one.
But the rumbling became more insistent. One of her stomach's groans went on for several seconds at a time. Esuria frowned at it. No! Bad tummy, she thought. You'll get food in the morning. Now we have to sleep. But thoughts are not food, so her stomach would not be silenced so easily. Esuria felt more than just hungry; she felt empty, and, she realized with a start, she felt a creeping sense of need. She recognized the feeling. It was a familiar sensation. A craving.
Esuria's stomach rumbled in a way that suggested that it wouldn't relent until it got to digest exactly what it wanted to. Esuria sighed. Fine, you silly little bag of acid, she thought. I'll give you something delicious if it'll let me sleep. She shuffled toward the edge of the bed, trying not to wake up her husband. She needn't have worried; Marcus was nearly impossible to wake up before morning on an average night, and she had, to treat the subject with some dignity, left him very tired before they'd gone to bed. Eventually she extricated herself from the covers and made her way out of the bedroom. Her children had inherited their father's talent for sleep, so she felt perfectly at ease going down to the kitchen in just her bra and panties.
A firm tug opened the refridgerator door, casting half of Esuria's curvaceous body in yellow light. She surveyed the contents as the cooling system in the back made its gentle, comforting hum. Well, tummy? thought Esuria. What would you like? There were jams of several kinds in the little door-racks, but none of them sounded appealing. Fudge topping? Ketchup, mustard, relish? She gave up on the door. Leftover meatloaf? The chicken breasts she was planning to cook for tomorrow? The steaks for the day after that? Salad? Potato salad? She shifted, leaning forward in the refridgerator, setting her gravidity at an angle. Her breasts stayed close to her chest-- she liked a nice, snug fit in her braisseire, and the cups worked admirably to forstall any uncomfortable jouncing. As she peered further in, a strip of black cut across her vision as her hair fell over her eyes. She rolled the encroaching lock behind her ear-- no simple task, as she had quite a bit of ear to surmount, being an elf.
The nuisance dealt with, Esuria resumed her search. Milk? Orange juice (Marcus's favorite)? Apple juice (her son's favorite)? Grape juice (her daughter's favorite)? Cranberry juice (her favorite)? No on all accounts! Coffee? Tea? The slice of cake left over from the potluck supper last weekend (how had it survived so long?)? The sugar cookies? Oh, how she adored a chilled sugar cookie... but not tonight. Something else, her stomach whined. She checked the bread box. Wheat bread? White bread? Rye bread? Butter? She knelt carefully, then slid open the crisper drawer. Apples? Oranges? Onions? No, no, and no, said her stomach. That's not it, that's not it!
Esuria closed the refridgerator and slid across the linoleum to the cabinets. How about the kid's sugary cereal? The fiber cereal that Marcus's doctor had recommended that he eat? Blech, absolutely not, said her stomach (and who could blame it?). Fruit snacks? As she encountered the box of pancake mix, she had a brainstorm. Maybe trying to find one food was barking up the wrong tree. What if it was a prepared food, like pancakes? Omelettes, maybe? Spaghetti? Lasagna? Her mouth was watering, but it just didn't sound right. Curry? Jambalaya? Pizza? No, all wrong. Frustrated, she opened up the cabinet where she kept her herbs and spices (one of them, at least). Thyme? Rosemary? How about garlic powder? Her stomach squelched. Okay, I know I'm being silly, Esuria thought. But you won't take anything!
Esuria sighed. The whole house's food supply, and nothing she wanted to eat. But her stomach wasn't just going to let her go without feeding it. That really only left her one option: the supermarket, which was open twenty-four hours a day. There had to be something there that would satisfy her! She quickly snuck back up to her room, tenderly slipped open a dresser drawer, and pulled out a pair of jeans and a pullover sweater. After slipping them on along with a pair of sandals, Esuria retrieved her keys to the house and her credit card from the endtable. Just as she turned to leave, her stomach growled and her baby kicked. Running a hand over her belly, she thought to herself, I know, I know, I'll get you what you need. Just hold on.
While Esuria knew she could count on her family to sleep through anything, driving off in the car was a bit more noise than she wanted to generate. Besides, their little suburban home was no more than five minutes' walk from Sphinxmart ("Sphinxmart: the intelligent solution to the food riddle"), and it was a nice, moderate winter night, just a little cool. It added up to a pleasant walk in the dark. The sky was clear, giving her a beautiful look at the stars twinkling above the treetops. If her stomach hadn't been threatening to digest itself in its furor, it might have been an enjoyable distraction from normalcy.
Esuria felt a surge of confidence as the sliding doors to Sphinxmart opened in front of her. Fifteen aisles full of food, and unlimited money in her pocket! (She chided herself momentarily for thinking of the little slip of plastic as such, but now was really not the time to moralize on the handling of money.) There had to be something there for her. She checked the produce section first, passing over the tomatoes, grapefruits, lemons, limes, broccoli, asparagus, cucumbers... even some obscure spikey fruit from the tropics. Nothing. Not even the slightest twitch of wanting. But that was okay; she had a full grocery store in front of her. She passed by the bakery, and none of the bear claws or donuts or muffins stood out to her. She wandered through the foreign foods aisle. Dozens of exotic styles invited her from the shelves, but her stomach vetoed them all. The frozen foods section, which had so often been the holy land when she was knitting together a child, was a barren wasteland. Pizza? No. Rocky road ice cream? No. Frozen veggies? No. On a whim, she perused the pet-food aisle. Did she fancy some kibble, perhaps? Maybe some of the high-quality beef they put in the expensive tins? A spark shot through her, and for a moment she thought maybe she'd found what she was looking for, bizarre as it was. But it faded quickly. That was not quite it. Frustrated, she made her way out of the store, giving a forlorn wave to the teenager behind the counter. How irritating, to have this shapeless need clawing at her from inside! She had always known exactly what she wanted before, and to have the need without a face on it was infuriating.
Esuria strolled up the shopping plaza. Mostly little novelty shops, or fast-food restaurants that were already closed. There was the Chinese food place-- how about it, she thought. Some nice, warm, gooey, fatty meat? That same spark jolted up from her stomach. And again, it petered out somewhere at the word "chicken". Okay, Esuria thought. How about beef? They make it in a lovely garlic sauce! No. Shrimp, then? No. Pork lo mein? No. Her stomach felt like it was running in circles and so did her head. She couldn't think of any other kind of meat! So she decided to do what she had learned to do when thinking failed her: act. She wouldn't go to bed without getting her baby exactly what it needed; silly though it was, the image of her precious child withering up into a little pile of dust because it didn't have the one vital ingredient got stuck in her mind. But she couldn't just go home, since there was nothing she wanted to eat there.
So Esuria decided to take a walk. It was late, certainly, but she lived in a peaceful neighborhood. The worst that ever happened was a trash can would get tipped over in the night, and even that could be blamed on a stray cat or raccoon. She set off down the sidewalk, taking in the dry night air and watching the dew sparkle in the light from the streetlamps. Oh, if only she could figure out what it was she wanted! She plodded onward, heavy with despair.
As Esuria was passing by the fountain that the town had installed to mark the beginning of a nature trail, she saw someone coming down the sidewalk in the opposite direction in a power-walk. As they approached, more and more details made themselves known. By the ears, she could tell that it was an elf, like herself, but younger and, she observed with a twinge of guilt, more fit. They were wearing a tight-fitting t-shirt, jean shorts, and sneakers. As they passed under the same streetlight as Esuria, she saw that it was a young man, probably in his early twenties. His hair, a deep blue, was tied back in a ponytail that swung and jounced in time with his step. Unbidden, a thought flitted through her mind: the kind of person who goes exercising at 3 AM is the kind of person who keeps themselves in shape. So much rich, delicious muscle he must have...
With that, a jolt.
That was it.
That was it!
Esuria's surprise at how strange a thing it was to crave was easily surmounted by her joy at finally knowing exactly what it was she wanted to eat. And it really wasn't all that unusual-- the nagas, those snake-people, would do it without a second thought. So it was decided before she had really given it any thought. She would eat him.
The walker nodded to her just before he passed her by.
"Stop and talk to me," Esuria said. She said it below her natural register, and there was a strange vibration in the words.
The walker stopped and looked at her. "Okay," he said, looking expectant. Esuria caught a little twinkle in his eye that told her that her glamour was working.
Esuria had a rare gift, a holdover from ancient times before magic's power had faded. Simply by speaking in the right way, she could bend the wills of those susceptible to her power-- and in this modern era, when there was no more need for a strong defense against magic, that category included well near everyone. But Esuria was a kind woman, and she felt it unfair to use it too broadly or too often. Here, though, it seemed appropriate.
"Come with me, please," Esuria said, motioning for him to follow her. She began to walk toward the little pond that housed the fountain. She was trying to reach a spot where she would still have light, but not be in full view of all the houses. Cheerfully, the walker followed her. "Tell me your name?" she said. She did want to know, but the question was mostly to reassert her control. She would have to speak to him again every so often to hold him in her power.
"It's Ambulus," said the walker.
"Ambulus, that's the darling name," Esuria said sweetly as she reached her goal. There was a spot where the fence that enclosed one of the house's yards provided cover from the street, but didn't quite block all the light from the streetlamps. Perfect. It was all coming together so well!
"Do you know what I'm going to do, Ambulus?" Esuria said to him.
"No, ma'am," Ambulus said.
"I'm going to eat you all up," Esuria explained. She cradled her swollen belly. "I've got a baby to feed, and it needs your body to grow big and strong. So I've got to swallow you. Is that okay?" She looked into his eyes, pouting slightly. The sparkle was still there.
He had to accept. "Of course, ma'am." He gave her a winning smile, as if she'd asked him to carry something for her.
Esuria smiled. "I'm glad to hear it. Now, take off your clothes, please. You don't want to give me indigestion, now do you?"
Ambulus shook his head. "Not at all, ma'am." Dutifully, he reached under the hem of his t-shirt and pulled it off, baring his chest. His ponytail was pulled out slightly as his hair passed through the shirt, and he pulled the tie all the way off with a flippant tug. He shook his hair out; it had clumped up a bit before, but now draped around his shoulders. He knealt to untie his shoelaces, pulling off the sneakers and the socks in a single motion each. After that, he slipped his shorts and underpants down his legs and stood totally naked before her, smiling helpfully. There was not a trace of embarrassment in him; after all, he was just doing as she asked.
He was gorgeous, Esuria thought, a prize for any woman to have. But she was faithful to Marcus, and from that point on she thought of no other purpose for his body than feeding her own. She took him by the shoulders, felt her sweater-covered belly press against his, heard his breath quicken at her nearness. "Be a good boy and digest easily, please," she said to him, pressed her lips to his forehead, and swallowed. Esuria had never eaten a person, but she knew it was possible. And she knew her body wanted it, more than anything else in all the world. She entrusted her body to its instincts and let it work.
Ambulus's head and shoulders dropped into her with the first gulp. She strained for a moment, surprised at the sudden sense of fullness in her throat. She tensed, squeezing all the muscles in her mouth and esophagus all at once, and he was sucked further inside, all the way up to his well-defined abs. As her tongue licked over them, Esuria was surprised at the progress she was making. It was then that she noticed the uncomfortable tightness of her sweater: all the knitting was pulled so taut that she could see her skin through it. She was expanding at the ribs, far more than the thing was made to handle. But she couldn't back down now. Damn the torpedoes, she thought, and felt her throat press and squeeze even more as Ambulus slipped further in. A second lump began to take shape in her belly, riding up and over the first as Ambulus filled her. The tension across her chest was unbearable; her breasts were practically pressed flat against her chest, the flesh popping through the sweater in lumps. She even felt the elastic band of her bra snap and pile up around her sides. But now she was really too far invested in this to return. She felt Ambulus's male parts resting on her tongue. Thinking it a shame that they would never see use again, she made one tiny concession to temptation, giving them a single lascivious lick. Ambulus, so limp and pliable before, gave a ticklish jerk within her. By reflex, she swallowed again, taking his hips and butt in one go. Then gravity took over, and his legs slid into her quite on their own.
As her stomach filled with its delicious meat meal and her belly swelled even father out, her sweater finally went beyond its limit. The weave came undone, starting from her distended midsection. The tear ripped straight up, the kinetic energy unstoppable, until the poor thing came apart at the neck and dropped off of her. With nothing to hold it up, her bra fell away as well, leaving Esuria bare from the waist up, with a little red grid across her skin where the sweater had pressed into her. Esuria laughed at her own nakedness. It was well past midnight, and nobody could see her, so what did she care? If anyone should see her, she would be far more concerned about explaining the giant, wriggling mass of flesh hanging out from below her ribs, pressing her breasts up and out to the sides. She looked three years pregnant with triplets!
But not for long. She had been starved, hunger-crazed, and now her stomach was full of exactly what it wanted. She heard a gurgle issue from her belly, but this wasn't one of the kind that comes from an empty stomach. This was the wet, squelchy kind from a happy, full belly. She felt her belly writhing and contorting of its own volition, pressing and squeezing the body inside her from all directions. For a moment, Esuria thought she could feel the contours of Ambulus's body inside her-- the rounded curves of his butt, the little bumps of his toes, the roughness of his hair. But perhaps she was only imagining it; they were only passing impressions, melting away in moments. Then she realized why she had lost the sense of them so quickly: her belly, churning away, squishing noisily, was shrinking. Her head spun. She hadn't thought it could digest so quickly. Then again, she hadn't thought much about the whole ordeal. So let it deflate fast as it liked! The feeling was delightful. Again, it might only have been her imagination, but she could swear she felt the liquid bits of her meal flowing into her intestines and squishing all around inside her. So wonderful!
Esuria felt her stomach give a final happy squeeze, sending the last liquid bits of Ambulus deep into her. Her intestines kneaded and massaged that gooey lump through her insides until the last of him was absorbed, passed along to her babe or stored as fat for later. Her belly had shrunk to the size it was supposed to be, though Esuria thought it might be just a little bit bigger than that. In a post-digestive reverie, Esuria idly pondered what to do about her midnight snack's clothes. Eventually, she decided to tie them into a ball and toss them into the pond, where they sank. Problem solved! As for her own clothing, she would mourn the loss of her sweater, but it was a fair price for such exquisite satisfaction. Taking part of it from either side, she clenched it together over her chest. Not as good as it used to be, but enough to protect her modesty on the way home. Thinking it best to be on her way, she picked up her destroyed brasseire and trod back to her house with a skip in her step.
As she slid back under the covers, bringing the sheets up and over her beloved child-to-be, the unthinkable happened: Marcus awoke. He turned over to face her, and said, "Mmnuh. Somethin' wrong, hun?"
"Just had a little craving, honey, but I took care of it."
In his soporific stupor, perhaps Marcus thought the craving WAS honey, or perhaps he didn't care. Either way, the result was the same: a mumbled, "Mmkay", and an immediate drop back into repose.
Esuria heard a soft groan from deep within her, and the gentle pressure of her baby kicking against her womb. She smiled, feeling a sense of sublime satisfaction. A stray thought presented itself: Ambulus, or Ambula if it turned out to be a girl. They struck her as wonderful names. With that, she drifted off into sleep, content.
***
AUTHOR'S COMMENTS:
I've actually had this story ready since the weekend after I wrote "Might or Magic?", but I figured I'd wait and space out my publications. Plus, I had the opportunity to proofread it that much more, even if it only amounted to changing a word here or adding a phrase there.
This story occurred to me after reading through the "Pregnancy and Vore" thread. I modeled it after Dancing Queen's vore stories, which were some of my earliest experiences with vore. Specifically, I deliberately chose a predator who was well-rounded (to put it politely), included the "busting through the clothes" bit, avoided any explicitly sexual behavior (well, except for that one part), and aimed for a lighthearted, whimsical tone overall. My own influence bleeds through, but if you want something that looks exactly like a Dancing Queen story, go read a Dancing Queen story (they're fun!).
We'll be seeing more of this Modern Fantasy Vore World in at least one later story. It is basically what it says on the tin: imagine if a generic fantasy world (full of elves, dwarves, nagas, and the like) moved on to its modern period, in which you might just run into a elf living in the suburbs. That is pretty much the long and the short of it. What more can I say? Some settings need to be detailed, and some do not.
"Esuria" is the feminine form of the Latin word for "hunger" or "long for". When I can't come up with with a proper name, I resort to Latin. "Marcus", incidentally, is basically the "John Smith" of Latin; a totally generic name. Take a guess what "Ambulo", the root word I formed "Ambulus" out of, means...*
I would like to point out that any factual errors in my depiction of a pregnant woman experiencing a bizarre craving (most likely the idea of having it but not knowing what the craving is for) are a direct result of my never having been pregnant nor, in fact, ever being a woman.
The food-guessing scene was a real test of how many different kinds of food I could think up.
* It means "to walk".
8/17/09: Destroyed a stray capital.
by Bitter
Esuria stirred gently. Sensations flooded her mind as the all-quieting darkness of sleep evaporated around her. She tilted her head on her pillow, looking at the little alarm clock that sat on her end-table. Its display read "2:37". Oh, how bothersome, she thought. She hated waking up in the middle of the night. Suddenly, she felt a few gentle kicks from within her belly. Yes, I know, baby, Esuria thought, stroking her swollen stomach. You don't like it when mommy can't sleep either. For she was pregnant, her third child almost ready to make its grand debut. Just a month or so more.
Now, Esuria did the same thing as always when her sleep was interrupted: relax and wait for the sandman to swing around again. Closing her eyes, she sank back into her pillow and sighed. Idly, she ran circles around her belly-button with the tip of a finger. Call her a traditionalist, but there was something delightful about the feeling of having a nice, round tummy, whether it was because of a baby or just good food. That proclivity had given her a bit more weight than was generally considered attractive, but it was a price she was willing to pay. And her husband, Marcus, was perfectly happy with her body the way it was, so she was perfectly content with her figure.
As these thoughts flitted through her mind, Esuria suddenly heard her stomach growl. Well, of course it would. It was usually empty this time of night. She decided to ignore it. Sleep would put it back into hibernation until morning, when she would fix it a delicious breakfast. Esuria, having a love of good food, had naturally developed a talent for creating it. That was, perhaps, one of the leading reasons for her generous curves. But, she reminded herself, she could eat in the morning. Now, she needed rest. For herself and for her little one.
But the rumbling became more insistent. One of her stomach's groans went on for several seconds at a time. Esuria frowned at it. No! Bad tummy, she thought. You'll get food in the morning. Now we have to sleep. But thoughts are not food, so her stomach would not be silenced so easily. Esuria felt more than just hungry; she felt empty, and, she realized with a start, she felt a creeping sense of need. She recognized the feeling. It was a familiar sensation. A craving.
Esuria's stomach rumbled in a way that suggested that it wouldn't relent until it got to digest exactly what it wanted to. Esuria sighed. Fine, you silly little bag of acid, she thought. I'll give you something delicious if it'll let me sleep. She shuffled toward the edge of the bed, trying not to wake up her husband. She needn't have worried; Marcus was nearly impossible to wake up before morning on an average night, and she had, to treat the subject with some dignity, left him very tired before they'd gone to bed. Eventually she extricated herself from the covers and made her way out of the bedroom. Her children had inherited their father's talent for sleep, so she felt perfectly at ease going down to the kitchen in just her bra and panties.
A firm tug opened the refridgerator door, casting half of Esuria's curvaceous body in yellow light. She surveyed the contents as the cooling system in the back made its gentle, comforting hum. Well, tummy? thought Esuria. What would you like? There were jams of several kinds in the little door-racks, but none of them sounded appealing. Fudge topping? Ketchup, mustard, relish? She gave up on the door. Leftover meatloaf? The chicken breasts she was planning to cook for tomorrow? The steaks for the day after that? Salad? Potato salad? She shifted, leaning forward in the refridgerator, setting her gravidity at an angle. Her breasts stayed close to her chest-- she liked a nice, snug fit in her braisseire, and the cups worked admirably to forstall any uncomfortable jouncing. As she peered further in, a strip of black cut across her vision as her hair fell over her eyes. She rolled the encroaching lock behind her ear-- no simple task, as she had quite a bit of ear to surmount, being an elf.
The nuisance dealt with, Esuria resumed her search. Milk? Orange juice (Marcus's favorite)? Apple juice (her son's favorite)? Grape juice (her daughter's favorite)? Cranberry juice (her favorite)? No on all accounts! Coffee? Tea? The slice of cake left over from the potluck supper last weekend (how had it survived so long?)? The sugar cookies? Oh, how she adored a chilled sugar cookie... but not tonight. Something else, her stomach whined. She checked the bread box. Wheat bread? White bread? Rye bread? Butter? She knelt carefully, then slid open the crisper drawer. Apples? Oranges? Onions? No, no, and no, said her stomach. That's not it, that's not it!
Esuria closed the refridgerator and slid across the linoleum to the cabinets. How about the kid's sugary cereal? The fiber cereal that Marcus's doctor had recommended that he eat? Blech, absolutely not, said her stomach (and who could blame it?). Fruit snacks? As she encountered the box of pancake mix, she had a brainstorm. Maybe trying to find one food was barking up the wrong tree. What if it was a prepared food, like pancakes? Omelettes, maybe? Spaghetti? Lasagna? Her mouth was watering, but it just didn't sound right. Curry? Jambalaya? Pizza? No, all wrong. Frustrated, she opened up the cabinet where she kept her herbs and spices (one of them, at least). Thyme? Rosemary? How about garlic powder? Her stomach squelched. Okay, I know I'm being silly, Esuria thought. But you won't take anything!
Esuria sighed. The whole house's food supply, and nothing she wanted to eat. But her stomach wasn't just going to let her go without feeding it. That really only left her one option: the supermarket, which was open twenty-four hours a day. There had to be something there that would satisfy her! She quickly snuck back up to her room, tenderly slipped open a dresser drawer, and pulled out a pair of jeans and a pullover sweater. After slipping them on along with a pair of sandals, Esuria retrieved her keys to the house and her credit card from the endtable. Just as she turned to leave, her stomach growled and her baby kicked. Running a hand over her belly, she thought to herself, I know, I know, I'll get you what you need. Just hold on.
While Esuria knew she could count on her family to sleep through anything, driving off in the car was a bit more noise than she wanted to generate. Besides, their little suburban home was no more than five minutes' walk from Sphinxmart ("Sphinxmart: the intelligent solution to the food riddle"), and it was a nice, moderate winter night, just a little cool. It added up to a pleasant walk in the dark. The sky was clear, giving her a beautiful look at the stars twinkling above the treetops. If her stomach hadn't been threatening to digest itself in its furor, it might have been an enjoyable distraction from normalcy.
Esuria felt a surge of confidence as the sliding doors to Sphinxmart opened in front of her. Fifteen aisles full of food, and unlimited money in her pocket! (She chided herself momentarily for thinking of the little slip of plastic as such, but now was really not the time to moralize on the handling of money.) There had to be something there for her. She checked the produce section first, passing over the tomatoes, grapefruits, lemons, limes, broccoli, asparagus, cucumbers... even some obscure spikey fruit from the tropics. Nothing. Not even the slightest twitch of wanting. But that was okay; she had a full grocery store in front of her. She passed by the bakery, and none of the bear claws or donuts or muffins stood out to her. She wandered through the foreign foods aisle. Dozens of exotic styles invited her from the shelves, but her stomach vetoed them all. The frozen foods section, which had so often been the holy land when she was knitting together a child, was a barren wasteland. Pizza? No. Rocky road ice cream? No. Frozen veggies? No. On a whim, she perused the pet-food aisle. Did she fancy some kibble, perhaps? Maybe some of the high-quality beef they put in the expensive tins? A spark shot through her, and for a moment she thought maybe she'd found what she was looking for, bizarre as it was. But it faded quickly. That was not quite it. Frustrated, she made her way out of the store, giving a forlorn wave to the teenager behind the counter. How irritating, to have this shapeless need clawing at her from inside! She had always known exactly what she wanted before, and to have the need without a face on it was infuriating.
Esuria strolled up the shopping plaza. Mostly little novelty shops, or fast-food restaurants that were already closed. There was the Chinese food place-- how about it, she thought. Some nice, warm, gooey, fatty meat? That same spark jolted up from her stomach. And again, it petered out somewhere at the word "chicken". Okay, Esuria thought. How about beef? They make it in a lovely garlic sauce! No. Shrimp, then? No. Pork lo mein? No. Her stomach felt like it was running in circles and so did her head. She couldn't think of any other kind of meat! So she decided to do what she had learned to do when thinking failed her: act. She wouldn't go to bed without getting her baby exactly what it needed; silly though it was, the image of her precious child withering up into a little pile of dust because it didn't have the one vital ingredient got stuck in her mind. But she couldn't just go home, since there was nothing she wanted to eat there.
So Esuria decided to take a walk. It was late, certainly, but she lived in a peaceful neighborhood. The worst that ever happened was a trash can would get tipped over in the night, and even that could be blamed on a stray cat or raccoon. She set off down the sidewalk, taking in the dry night air and watching the dew sparkle in the light from the streetlamps. Oh, if only she could figure out what it was she wanted! She plodded onward, heavy with despair.
As Esuria was passing by the fountain that the town had installed to mark the beginning of a nature trail, she saw someone coming down the sidewalk in the opposite direction in a power-walk. As they approached, more and more details made themselves known. By the ears, she could tell that it was an elf, like herself, but younger and, she observed with a twinge of guilt, more fit. They were wearing a tight-fitting t-shirt, jean shorts, and sneakers. As they passed under the same streetlight as Esuria, she saw that it was a young man, probably in his early twenties. His hair, a deep blue, was tied back in a ponytail that swung and jounced in time with his step. Unbidden, a thought flitted through her mind: the kind of person who goes exercising at 3 AM is the kind of person who keeps themselves in shape. So much rich, delicious muscle he must have...
With that, a jolt.
That was it.
That was it!
Esuria's surprise at how strange a thing it was to crave was easily surmounted by her joy at finally knowing exactly what it was she wanted to eat. And it really wasn't all that unusual-- the nagas, those snake-people, would do it without a second thought. So it was decided before she had really given it any thought. She would eat him.
The walker nodded to her just before he passed her by.
"Stop and talk to me," Esuria said. She said it below her natural register, and there was a strange vibration in the words.
The walker stopped and looked at her. "Okay," he said, looking expectant. Esuria caught a little twinkle in his eye that told her that her glamour was working.
Esuria had a rare gift, a holdover from ancient times before magic's power had faded. Simply by speaking in the right way, she could bend the wills of those susceptible to her power-- and in this modern era, when there was no more need for a strong defense against magic, that category included well near everyone. But Esuria was a kind woman, and she felt it unfair to use it too broadly or too often. Here, though, it seemed appropriate.
"Come with me, please," Esuria said, motioning for him to follow her. She began to walk toward the little pond that housed the fountain. She was trying to reach a spot where she would still have light, but not be in full view of all the houses. Cheerfully, the walker followed her. "Tell me your name?" she said. She did want to know, but the question was mostly to reassert her control. She would have to speak to him again every so often to hold him in her power.
"It's Ambulus," said the walker.
"Ambulus, that's the darling name," Esuria said sweetly as she reached her goal. There was a spot where the fence that enclosed one of the house's yards provided cover from the street, but didn't quite block all the light from the streetlamps. Perfect. It was all coming together so well!
"Do you know what I'm going to do, Ambulus?" Esuria said to him.
"No, ma'am," Ambulus said.
"I'm going to eat you all up," Esuria explained. She cradled her swollen belly. "I've got a baby to feed, and it needs your body to grow big and strong. So I've got to swallow you. Is that okay?" She looked into his eyes, pouting slightly. The sparkle was still there.
He had to accept. "Of course, ma'am." He gave her a winning smile, as if she'd asked him to carry something for her.
Esuria smiled. "I'm glad to hear it. Now, take off your clothes, please. You don't want to give me indigestion, now do you?"
Ambulus shook his head. "Not at all, ma'am." Dutifully, he reached under the hem of his t-shirt and pulled it off, baring his chest. His ponytail was pulled out slightly as his hair passed through the shirt, and he pulled the tie all the way off with a flippant tug. He shook his hair out; it had clumped up a bit before, but now draped around his shoulders. He knealt to untie his shoelaces, pulling off the sneakers and the socks in a single motion each. After that, he slipped his shorts and underpants down his legs and stood totally naked before her, smiling helpfully. There was not a trace of embarrassment in him; after all, he was just doing as she asked.
He was gorgeous, Esuria thought, a prize for any woman to have. But she was faithful to Marcus, and from that point on she thought of no other purpose for his body than feeding her own. She took him by the shoulders, felt her sweater-covered belly press against his, heard his breath quicken at her nearness. "Be a good boy and digest easily, please," she said to him, pressed her lips to his forehead, and swallowed. Esuria had never eaten a person, but she knew it was possible. And she knew her body wanted it, more than anything else in all the world. She entrusted her body to its instincts and let it work.
Ambulus's head and shoulders dropped into her with the first gulp. She strained for a moment, surprised at the sudden sense of fullness in her throat. She tensed, squeezing all the muscles in her mouth and esophagus all at once, and he was sucked further inside, all the way up to his well-defined abs. As her tongue licked over them, Esuria was surprised at the progress she was making. It was then that she noticed the uncomfortable tightness of her sweater: all the knitting was pulled so taut that she could see her skin through it. She was expanding at the ribs, far more than the thing was made to handle. But she couldn't back down now. Damn the torpedoes, she thought, and felt her throat press and squeeze even more as Ambulus slipped further in. A second lump began to take shape in her belly, riding up and over the first as Ambulus filled her. The tension across her chest was unbearable; her breasts were practically pressed flat against her chest, the flesh popping through the sweater in lumps. She even felt the elastic band of her bra snap and pile up around her sides. But now she was really too far invested in this to return. She felt Ambulus's male parts resting on her tongue. Thinking it a shame that they would never see use again, she made one tiny concession to temptation, giving them a single lascivious lick. Ambulus, so limp and pliable before, gave a ticklish jerk within her. By reflex, she swallowed again, taking his hips and butt in one go. Then gravity took over, and his legs slid into her quite on their own.
As her stomach filled with its delicious meat meal and her belly swelled even father out, her sweater finally went beyond its limit. The weave came undone, starting from her distended midsection. The tear ripped straight up, the kinetic energy unstoppable, until the poor thing came apart at the neck and dropped off of her. With nothing to hold it up, her bra fell away as well, leaving Esuria bare from the waist up, with a little red grid across her skin where the sweater had pressed into her. Esuria laughed at her own nakedness. It was well past midnight, and nobody could see her, so what did she care? If anyone should see her, she would be far more concerned about explaining the giant, wriggling mass of flesh hanging out from below her ribs, pressing her breasts up and out to the sides. She looked three years pregnant with triplets!
But not for long. She had been starved, hunger-crazed, and now her stomach was full of exactly what it wanted. She heard a gurgle issue from her belly, but this wasn't one of the kind that comes from an empty stomach. This was the wet, squelchy kind from a happy, full belly. She felt her belly writhing and contorting of its own volition, pressing and squeezing the body inside her from all directions. For a moment, Esuria thought she could feel the contours of Ambulus's body inside her-- the rounded curves of his butt, the little bumps of his toes, the roughness of his hair. But perhaps she was only imagining it; they were only passing impressions, melting away in moments. Then she realized why she had lost the sense of them so quickly: her belly, churning away, squishing noisily, was shrinking. Her head spun. She hadn't thought it could digest so quickly. Then again, she hadn't thought much about the whole ordeal. So let it deflate fast as it liked! The feeling was delightful. Again, it might only have been her imagination, but she could swear she felt the liquid bits of her meal flowing into her intestines and squishing all around inside her. So wonderful!
Esuria felt her stomach give a final happy squeeze, sending the last liquid bits of Ambulus deep into her. Her intestines kneaded and massaged that gooey lump through her insides until the last of him was absorbed, passed along to her babe or stored as fat for later. Her belly had shrunk to the size it was supposed to be, though Esuria thought it might be just a little bit bigger than that. In a post-digestive reverie, Esuria idly pondered what to do about her midnight snack's clothes. Eventually, she decided to tie them into a ball and toss them into the pond, where they sank. Problem solved! As for her own clothing, she would mourn the loss of her sweater, but it was a fair price for such exquisite satisfaction. Taking part of it from either side, she clenched it together over her chest. Not as good as it used to be, but enough to protect her modesty on the way home. Thinking it best to be on her way, she picked up her destroyed brasseire and trod back to her house with a skip in her step.
As she slid back under the covers, bringing the sheets up and over her beloved child-to-be, the unthinkable happened: Marcus awoke. He turned over to face her, and said, "Mmnuh. Somethin' wrong, hun?"
"Just had a little craving, honey, but I took care of it."
In his soporific stupor, perhaps Marcus thought the craving WAS honey, or perhaps he didn't care. Either way, the result was the same: a mumbled, "Mmkay", and an immediate drop back into repose.
Esuria heard a soft groan from deep within her, and the gentle pressure of her baby kicking against her womb. She smiled, feeling a sense of sublime satisfaction. A stray thought presented itself: Ambulus, or Ambula if it turned out to be a girl. They struck her as wonderful names. With that, she drifted off into sleep, content.
***
AUTHOR'S COMMENTS:
I've actually had this story ready since the weekend after I wrote "Might or Magic?", but I figured I'd wait and space out my publications. Plus, I had the opportunity to proofread it that much more, even if it only amounted to changing a word here or adding a phrase there.
This story occurred to me after reading through the "Pregnancy and Vore" thread. I modeled it after Dancing Queen's vore stories, which were some of my earliest experiences with vore. Specifically, I deliberately chose a predator who was well-rounded (to put it politely), included the "busting through the clothes" bit, avoided any explicitly sexual behavior (well, except for that one part), and aimed for a lighthearted, whimsical tone overall. My own influence bleeds through, but if you want something that looks exactly like a Dancing Queen story, go read a Dancing Queen story (they're fun!).
We'll be seeing more of this Modern Fantasy Vore World in at least one later story. It is basically what it says on the tin: imagine if a generic fantasy world (full of elves, dwarves, nagas, and the like) moved on to its modern period, in which you might just run into a elf living in the suburbs. That is pretty much the long and the short of it. What more can I say? Some settings need to be detailed, and some do not.
"Esuria" is the feminine form of the Latin word for "hunger" or "long for". When I can't come up with with a proper name, I resort to Latin. "Marcus", incidentally, is basically the "John Smith" of Latin; a totally generic name. Take a guess what "Ambulo", the root word I formed "Ambulus" out of, means...*
I would like to point out that any factual errors in my depiction of a pregnant woman experiencing a bizarre craving (most likely the idea of having it but not knowing what the craving is for) are a direct result of my never having been pregnant nor, in fact, ever being a woman.
The food-guessing scene was a real test of how many different kinds of food I could think up.
* It means "to walk".
8/17/09: Destroyed a stray capital.
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Posted by jacquelope 17 years ago Report
Well written pregnant pred story. I wish they had star ratings around here. I'd give this a 5 for sure!
Posted by Paradox 17 years ago Report
I liked it really much. It's good written and the story itself is magnificent.
Hooray for pregnant preds^^
Posted by DancingQueen6281 17 years ago Report
Thanks for the shout out at the end, it's very flattering. Very well written, I enjoyed it a great deal. And speaking as a currently pregnant woman yes there are odd cravings, but more odd in terms of combinations of food (the classic being ice cream and pickles) or times of cravings (craving spaghetti for breakfast has been one for me this time around) rather than flat out bizarre food. But accurate or not it still makes for a nice story.
Posted by Throat_Wolf 17 years ago Report
Nice work. And nice to see another DQ-inspired writer. :). I don't generally like "snuff" stories, but this one wasn't bad at all.
Posted by jaydee_007 17 years ago Report
This is indeed a well written (meaning excellent word selection, well spaced, well paced, good punctuation) story.
In its properly structured writing it serves as a good platform to express your suburban fantasy world, and nicely setup your characters.
In other words, the writing itself became invisible leavion only story and creation.
Excellent work!
Thank you.
Posted by Bright 15 years ago Report
I really like how you write from the mothers point of view.
Posted by SmaxTheDestroyer 13 years ago Report
How have I neglected to read this for this long? Great story! Pregnant pred for the win!