Nate the Prey 1/2
 
NOTE:: This is a longer one, with quite a lot of lead-in. If you want to skip straight to the meat of the story, just hit CTRL+F and search for "TL;DR". The lead-up is mostly exposition of the world, and of a character I hope to make a "recurring prey". CTRL+F for "ZVORE" will skip you straight to the vore scene, which does have regurgitation.
 
The city streets gleamed under the cool December sun. Outside, what pedestrians there were walked down the sidewalks, or sat on them, but either way the roads were an eclectic mix of humans and wolves, dogs and cats, bear and deer, with the occasional tiger or kangaroo. There was even a panda or two visible, surprising given how secular they had become since the partial destruction of their bamboo forests.
 
A lone human walked along in a hurry, head down, hands in his pockets. He didn't have anywhere to go, but he found that the faster he went, the better he thought. He kept his head up enough to keep strangers in his periphery - absent-mindedly fingering a scar from his abdomen, he remembered his "makeshift appendectomy" at the hands of those jackals he'd mistakenly bumped into only too well. They'd taken the appendix and one of his kidneys and made a meal of them while he watched. He shuddered involuntarily.
 
His name was Nathan, or Nate for short. On Nate's side of the street, an obese hippo was handing out pamphlets advertising "Kinky Pleasures". Five or six people milled around her, taking pamphlets, some signing her clipboard. He passed the crowd by without even a passing glance.
 
Kicked out. He'd heard the term tossed around before, even had some friends who'd had it happen to them, but he'd never thought it'd happen to him. He still remembered what had happened clearly, which came as no surprise as only two hours had passed since, but it seemed to have happened a lifetime ago.
 
The discovery of the Kinky Pleasures-distributed magazine. The shouting match. His mother, crying, saying she raised him better. His father, yelling, yelling, always yelling. And Nate's breaking point. Nate's breaking point had also been his father's jaw's breaking point, judging by the crack, and despite the fact that he never meant for it to go that far, his mother just kept screaming at him to leave, to leave and never return. He'd had twenty minutes to throw some possessions in a rucksack, to leave his spare key inside the door, and to leave.
 
He passed a friend who'd been a grade above him before dropping out. He held a tin can in his hand, shaking it every now and again. Two or three coins clattered around inside. Nate shuddered and moved on.
 
He was at the public library, which drew a short humourless chuckle. He still had a library card. Out of a lack of destination, he made for the front door.
 
"Hey," said the bum at the bottom of the steps, whose name Nate remembered was Kevin. "I know you."
 
"Yeah, I guess you do," said Nate, turning around.
 
Kevin scrunched up his face, before saying "Nate!" and standing up on wobbly legs. He clapped Nate on the shoulder with a shaking hand. "How ya doin', Nate?"
 
"Not so good, Kevin," said Nate. "Folks just kicked me out."
 
"That's a bitch," said Kevin, nodding. He was still exactly as Nate had remembered him. "Siddown for a minute, siddown." The two sat down together. Kevin pulled out a pipe and offered it to Nate, who declined with a wave of his hand.
 
"How old're you, now?" asked Nate.
 
"Eighteen," said Kevin, taking a slow drag from the pipe. He looked closer to seventy - his complexion was pallid, and he was wrinkled. The skin was stretched relatively tight on him, however - he had a pinched look to him, and had lost quite a bit of weight since Nate had last saw him. His hair, once a healthy brown, was now almost grey. "You?"
 
"Still seventeen," said Nate. He put his rucksack between his knees and began rummaging - he still had his job at the local gas station, he realized, so at least money wasn't an issue... for now. He put a five in Kevin's cup.
 
"S-say... thanks, man!" said Kevin.
 
"No sweat," said Nate. "I think I still have a job, after all. Remember Dave's place?"
 
"Dave... Dave... Oh-oh, yeah," said Kevin, shaking a little. He took a slow, long drag and steadied himself.
 
"Yeah, you remember," said Nate, gazing across the street. "You used to steal a few of those penny-candies every week. Said it was your way of getting taxes back."
 
"Yeah, yeah," said Kevin, absently. Nate knew he didn't really remember. That was the hell of it - once you got started on the Juice, it helped you forget. It was made from the sexual fluids of various anthros - most commonly jaguars, or other jungle cats, but more often other animals, since it was cheaper - and it was said to unlock the long-forgotten primal instincts of humans. To suppress the forebrain, in more scientific terms. Nate had only ever tried it twice, which was more than enough for him.
 
"You ever been to the Kink?" said Kevin.
 
"The Kink? ...oh, yeah, right. No, I haven't."
 
"You should go," said Kevin. "I can't afford to go, anymore, but that place is the shit. It's where I learned about this stuff."
 
"Quel surprise," said Nate, and Kevin laughed.
 
"Ah, Nate," said Kevin, "how I missed ya. You got some cash, right?"
 
"I have to look into finding a place to live, though," said Nate. "No offence, but it IS kinda cold out here."
 
"Right, right," said Kevin absentmindedly. "Maybe we could rent a place together."
 
"Doesn't seem like you're rollin' in dough, man," said Nate. "And I'd need you to cover at least SOME of the rent, since you'd be eatin' the food and all."
 
"Right, right," said Kevin. "It's not all that cold, anyway. There's a place a coupla blocks from here - some kinda shelter. They got beds, sometimes - and they've got reserves for when it drops below minus ten. 'sides, I get in good with those jackals, too - they've got a deal all their own. You know about them?"
 
"Only too well," said Nate, fingering his scar once more.
 
"That's a surprise," said Kevin. "Straight-lace like you." He took another drag, closing his eyes. He sighed the smoke out. "Good stuff, this. Sure you don't want some?"
 
"I'm sure," said Nate. "I've tried it before."
 
"Oh, yeah," said Kevin, laughing. "That was one helluva trip. Remember when you tried to hump that waitress' leg, and got us all kicked out for life?"
 
"Kind of," said Nate. "Anyway, like I said, none for me."
 
"Suit yourself, more for me," said Kevin, taking a drag. He grimaced. "At least, more for me when I can find some."
 
"Do me a favour, would you?"
 
"Sure, what?"
 
"Use some of that fivespot for actual food, okay? Don't just spend it on Juice."
 
"Yeah, sure," said Kevin, and although he was sincere enough, Nate had some serious doubts.
 
"Anyways, it's getting dark - I'd better get going." The sun had set behind all but the lowest high-rises now.
 
"Y-yeah, sure," said Kevin. "Kinky Pleasures is a good place, though. Nice warm beds, with some company. And trust me - you livin' alone, like me, some company sure does do ya good."
 
"I'll keep it in mind," said Nate, getting up. He realized rather belatedly that he was late to work, and supposed he should head there... but he honestly didn't feel like working. Not tonight. He'd find some alley to sleep in, maybe, and begin apartment-hunting tomorrow. He had a couple of hundred bucks saved up from his job, and he was still employed... for now.
 
The shelter sounded promising, but he didn't much like the idea - thoug he was technically homeless now, he was far from starving, and even farther still when he bought two snickers from the seven-eleven. He found a likely-looking alley, hid inside a condemned building, and slept, cold and far from home.
 
The next few days were slightly more promising - not being able to work up the nerve to tell his boss what had transpired, Nate continued working "after-school hours". He learned belatedly that his parents had "taken him out of school", screwing any chance he had at a future. He tried applying himself, but all of the bureaucratic bullshit just made his head spin and he gave it up as a bad job.
 
He still went to see Kevin... when Kevin was there. Kevin spent more and more time stoned, and one time when Nate went there, he found Kevin dead, and did Kevin the favour of placing an anonymous 911 call so that they could pick up the body. Life moved on, in other words.
 
Kevin's words about Kinky Pleasures stuck, though. Nate still had that magazine of theirs, which he "read" nightly, and two weeks after he was kicked out, he decided to go and see if it was all they said it was.
 
Before that, however, his house of cards came crashing down. First thing when Nate entered his boss handed him his paycheck. That was odd, since the boss liked to hand them out at the end of the night to motivate them. Nate found his usual apron missing, so he went to the boss to ask what was going on.
 
"Sorry, Nate," said Dave, "I only hire students. And the school just informed me you were 'removed' two weeks ago."
 
"Please," said Nate. "I'll still work student hours, for student pay - but I need the money. I - I'm living on the streets, now."
 
"Then how are your clothes still clean?" Dave was nothing if not shrewd, but Nate really didn't have the patience for it.
 
"The coin laundromat. I had twenty minutes to pack my things -"
 
"Sorry, it's store policy - and the school pays me 20% back of the students' paychecks."
 
"So I'll work for 80% pay!"
 
"That's not legal. Nope, it's time to go, Nate - unless you'd like to order some food."
 
Nate left, cursing under his breath. Fortunately, the past couple of weeks hadn't been completely fruitless - working five hours a night, and sixteen hours a weekend, he managed to save close to a thousand dollars, including his previous two hundred, which had been spent very sparingly. Suffice it to say that Nate hadn't been eating very healthily at all.
 
On his way to Kinky Pleasures, determined to have a night of it if nothing else, Nate walked into his mother, on her way to do the shopping. They didn't take the car when possible - pollution was "sinful".
 
"Mother," said Nate, and the woman stiffened.
 
"Nate?" she said, and when Nate nodded, she nearly embraced him, but held back. "How've you been?"
 
"Terrible," said Nate. "You took me out of school, and my boss doesn't hire non-students, so it looks like I'm screwed."
 
"N-Nate... darling..." Nate's mother took his face in her hands. "I overreacted. Truly, you are like the prodigal son, to be cherished and embraced upon homecoming."
 
"...you DO remember it was you who kicked ME out, right?"
 
"For as the Lord saith, 'Spare the rod, spoil the child'? I can understand that. I was too easy on you. But come home, son," her eyes took on a decidedly fanatic glint, "we'll shew you the right path. Perhaps next semester you can even return to school, if you reform your ways."
 
"'Reform my -'? Are you serious? Do you hear yourself? You kicked me out because I had a skin mag. I never did drugs, I never joined a gang, and I even still went to church with you -"
 
"'Spare the rod, spoil the child'! And I 'kicked you out' because you hit your father!"
 
"The old bastard got what was coming to him!"
 
"Oh, my child... my sweet little boy..." Nate's mother moved to embrace him now, but he stepped back, disgust clear on his face. "We can change all this! Come home - we can still take it all back!"
 
"No, mom," said Nate, "we can't." He hoofed it down the street, leaving his mother to pitch a fit of hysterics as she did whenever she "failed" religiously. She was what he called a "cardboard Catholic" - as idealized as a cardboard cutout of a famous athlete, but once you tried to see any depth, that was where the illusion failed. Confused, his mind in turmoil, he was somewhat surprised when he arrived at Kinky Pleasures.
 
TL;DR
 
The place was legend amongst the high schoolers. The very fact that it was the embodiment of everything taboo was quite the draw, as were the tails of repeat 12th graders who had gone. Some of the more outlandishly distasteful stories were glossed over in favour of the romance of the idea - an island of taboo sensuality amidst a sea of intolerance and ignorance.
 
"Hey, kid!" a voice yelled. "You gonna go in, or what?" It was Johnny Fucksalot. He had an article in the Kinky Pleasures mag (which Nate actually HAD read, thank you very much) where he basically vented about how he felt about society. The last page and inside cover of the magazine were, of course, a disclaimer which got Johnny out of facing a lawsuit over what he said in the mag.
 
"I... don't know," said Nate.
 
"Come 'ere, then," said Johnny, and Nate came. Johnny looked him over in the half-light of dusk and said, "You're in a bad way, kid."
 
"Kinda," said Nate, suddenly shy. However legendary, Johnny WAS strange to him, and the legend made him that much more distant.
 
"Tell you what - you come in, my girls show you a good time. Hell, if you can keep your mouth shut - and sign a waiver - maybe I'll even let you into the back rooms. How old are you?"
 
"Twenty-two," said Nate immediately, and Johnny laughed.
 
"No, yer not," said Johnny, "but that's OK. I've fudged the forms before." Johnny put an arm around Nate's shoulders and led him in.
 
"I don't have much money," said Nate, as Johnny led him into the main entrance.
 
"That's OK," said Johnny. "Always happy to help a fellow future deviant." Johnny produced Nate's copy of the magazine - it had the same dog-eared front cover and his name on it in permanent marker. Johnny laughed as Nate snatched it back and stuffed it in his rucksack. Johnny led Nate over to the right, to a human man standing primly at attention.
 
"Ken, this 'ere's Nate," said Johnny. Nate didn't have to ask how he knew Nate's name - it had been on Nate's magazine, after all. "Show 'im our first-timer's tour... and maybe throw in the extra experience, too, dig?" Ken nodded and beckoned for Nate to follow. Ken got out from behind his desk and led Nate through the giant curtains leading into the main hall.
 
Once Nate was seated, Ken produced a rather thick liability waiver, directing Nate as to where to sign. Nate did so, and Ken took the waiver, pulling out two stamps and using them on Nate's forehead. He also took Nate's rucksack, taking the time to tie a label onto it and write Nate's name onto it. Nate then sat back and waited.
 
A troupe of scantily clad human women came onto the stage, standing in place, before being lowered below the stage. In behind them came a mix of human and anthro, male and female, all buck-naked. Leading this group was Johnny himself.
 
"Good evenin', Ladies, Gents, and everythin' in between," said Johnny, to general applause. "I know why yer hear, and it ain't to listen to me yap. Least, I don't t'ink. So I'll be brief. What you see before you is Kinky Pleasures Brothel and Publican. We service any who come - as long as it's legal to do so, of course - and we service whatever they require. You want a bunch o' stereotypical whores in lingerie? Go to one o' them lady-shops and drool over th' mannequins." This was met with scattered laughter. "Now - here's my girls, enjoy 'em. But be gentle... unless yer doin' somethin' not so gentle. Now, remember yer stamps - I got attendants all around with waivers 'n' stamps. You can't get served if you ain't stamped! Okay, enjoy! Really! I'm done!" There was a puff of smoke and Johnny was gone, along with one of the girls, Nate noticed.
 
"Hey, good lookin'," said a female voice from behind Nate. He turned his head and saw a female alligator, who winked at him. "Wanna have some fun?"
 
"Sure," said Nate. He'd always been into furries, and though this one was scaly, he didn't think it made a difference. She took his hand and led him out of a set of curtains to the left.
 
They went down the hall into a door on the right, which contained a room with a roaring fireplace, a bed, and nothing else. Well, there were some peculiar shadows under the bed, but little else. The working girl went and sat on the bed, beckoning for Nate to follow.
 
"Johnny tells me it's yer first time here," she said, and Nate nodded. The 'gator giggled. "That's OK - we all gotta start somewhere, right? Now, you got two stamps. First one means we can have all th' general cootchie-coo. You want somethin' more, you just let me know, 'kay?"
 
"O-okay," said Nate. "I'd like just the... 'general cootchie-coo' for now, please." This earned a torrent of giggles.
 
They coupled for a good forty-five minutes, although it was more an exploration than a sexual encounter. Nate tongued and fingered both of the gator's holes, and she blew him and rimmed him multiple times. He went on bottom for a while while she smothered him with her breasts, which were considerable. And they played a few vore-games, where she took his feet in her mouth and sucked on them.
 
Eventually though, Nate wanted more, despite this being more than he'd imagined already. "I think I'd like to cash in the second stamp, now," said Nate, when they were taking a breather.
 
"Yeah? Good for you," said the gator. "Most don't on their first visit. Johnny said 'e thought you might, though - guy knows things. It's kinda spooky." She shuddered. "I ain't a two-stamper - I c'n take you to someone else for th' more exotic stuff. What'd you have in mind?"
 
"Vore," said Nate. "But not fatal."
 
"Okay," said the gator. "We got an endosomatophilia section - that's where you spend some time inside o' someone. We got Sasha on that. You know who that is?"
 
"Yes," said Nate. The magazine had a page for each long-term member of the staff, and Sasha was included, although it had her listed under "vore". The magazine WAS six months old, though.
 
"Well, maybe," said Nate. "But what I really want is the experience of vore - you know, going into the stomach, the threat of digestion, but being thrown up - or maybe just passed through, I don't know - before digestion actually starts."
 
"Ahh, I see," said the gator. "You want some danger." She thought. "We've got a new pred I was told to try on different things like this, but he's a guy. That bother you?"
 
"Not particularly," said Nate.
 
"Good, good... he's a little rough, well a LOT rough, actually, but fun in a tumble."
 
"You had him, then?"
 
"Just once. It was... intense." She shivered pleasureably. "C'mon, then - I'll take you to 'im." She led him out, heading down the hall. They went all the way 'round to the side-entrance before heading upstairs. The gator opened another door and they went further up. Nate began to wear out somewhere near the sixth flight, but soon enough they reached a trap door.
 
"He's up there," said the gator, gesturing. "I don't go past this point. Good luck, kid." She kissed his cheek before running downstairs. Nate ascended the ladder.
 
The air outside was cold - shockingly cold. It was early January, and his coat was back with his rucksack - wherever Ken had stored them. Nate soon saw the new pred, and sat there in awe for a moment.
 
Zetro cut a stern figure - he was crouched down, arms resting on his legs in an athlete's position. He was muscular, and there were some dumbells nearby; he clearly worked out. His snow-white fur contrasted brilliantely with his surroundings. The roof had a five-foot-tall brick wall built all around it, built not so much for enclosure as to keep prying eyes out.
 
Zetro's head jerked suddenly and he sniffed the air, turning towards Nate, who had to fight an urge to run. Instead, he walked over to Zetro.
 
"A client, eh?" said Zetro. "Hmmph. Young. Yer mom know you're here?"
 
"She probably thinks I live here," said Nate, and Zetro chuckled a bit. Nate could just see a hairline scar along Zetro's neck, which made his raspy, gravelly voice make sense.
 
"So, what're you here for?" said Zetro.
 
"V-vore. But not... fatal," said Nate, suddenly feeling foolish.
 
"Not fatal? Bah. Pussy."
 
"W-well, it's my first time..."
 
"And? You think when I hunt down a deer, it's gone through it before?" Zetro wasn't glaring, but his eyes contained a steely glint.
 
"L... look, I don't know. All I know is that I told the girl I was with that I wanted non-fatal vore, and she took me to you because you needed to... umm... 'try new things'. If you don't want to do this, whatever. I'll head back down - find someone who'll give me what I want."
 
"And rat me out to Johnny, probably," said Zetro. "Nah, nah, I'll do it. Johnny said he'd give me extra meat if I had to go through one o' these. Now," Zetro adjusted his position, "you up for some fun first?"
 
"O-okay," said Nate, apprehensive at whatever Zetro's idea of fun might be.
 
"Ah, don't worry. Nothin' too painful. Just gonna fuck you a little."
 
"All right," said Nate, and Zetro finally DID get up, and walk over. His height intimidated Nate more than a little, and Zetro grinned, clearly noticing.
 
"Now, this your first time?" asked Zetro.
 
"First time being fucked in the ass, you mean?" This earned a laugh from Zetro. "Yes, as far as I remember."
 
"Ah," said Zetro. "Lived a little, eh?" He cackled and directed Nate to unrobe. This left Nate naked and shivering in the cold January air, and when Zetro embraced him, he clung to the wolf for the warmth.
 
"There we go," said Zetro. "For the next little while, you my bitch, dig?" said Zetro, and Nate nodded. Zetro got Nate to crouch down, ass exposed, and descended upon the prostrate teen, cock erect.
 
"C-can I ask you something?" said Nate.
 
"Why?" said Zetro, clearly irritated.
 
"W-well, it might be important."
 
"Fine," said Zetro. "What?"
 
"How old are you?"
 
"What, that all?" said Zetro. "Nineteen. Now shut up." Nate did.
 
Zetro said he'd go easy, and perhaps he did, but it seemed unbelievably rough. According to Zetro's assessment, he HAD been sodomized before; likely the jackals, Nate thought. The experience was still extremely painful and humiliating, but Nate still managed to enjoy it somewhat. Zetro growled and grasped Nate's shoulders, bucking his hips as he did so; he clung to Nate, which was laughable given the size differences, and when he came Nate could feel it filling him up. Zetro didn't stop there, though - he kept going, coming a total of four times. Nate's abdomen was swollen from the cum sloshing around inside of him.
 
"Now... one more thing," said Zetro.
 
"What?" asked Nate, a little less cautiously than before.
 
"Just... go with it." Zetro grabbed Nate from the front this time and they kissed; he then ordered Nate to blow him, which he did.
 
When Zetro came, Nate recognized the taste of the cum, not from the jackals, but from his trials with Juice; he felt the same high wash over him, and before he knew it, he and Zetro were entangled, animal lusts being sated.
 
Nate was at the same time intensly close and oddly distant from the happenings, and this disjointed feeling prevented him from remembering much of what happened; he remembered, bizarrely, being on top, with Zetro taking it in the ass and howling with pleasure. Eventually, the feeling wore off, and the two disengaged.
 
"MUCH better," said Zetro. (ZVORE) "Ready to go down the hatch, now?"
 
"Only temporarily, remember."
 
"Yeah, yeah, I KNOW." Zetro pinched the sides of his jaw, unhinging. He lifted Nate almost effortlessly.
 
Zetro's breath was foul - it reeked of decay, with a sour undercurrent. He began swallowing Nate head-first, and Nate was soon covered in thick, ropy drool as he went down, Zetro's powerful throat muscles forcing him onward.
 
Zetro didn't waste any time - once Nate began to slide down, the rest of his body swiftly followed. Soon he was curled up rather tightly in Zetro's stomach, coated in bile and listening to the sounds of impending digestion. It was all Nate could have hoped for.
 
"Just start thrashin' when you want to come out," said Zetro, and Nate began jerking off; he again found himself lost in that animalistic lust, rolling in the stomach acids but being careful not to thrash about too much.
 
Finally, when the tingle of the acids was becoming a bit too close to painful, Nate began thrashing, and found himself coming up rather quickly. He was soon curled on the cold rooftop, coated in vomit.
 
"Bleh," said Zetro, shaking his head. "That extra meat had better be worth it." He went over to his dumbell set and emerged with a towel, which Nate used to dry off. Once he'd finished, he put his clothes back on.
 
"How was it, then?" asked Zetro, crouching once more.
 
"Good," said Nate, and it had been. REALLY good. And he said so.
 
"Good," said Zetro. "Not sure I care for it, personally. But whatever - I DO get paid for this crap." He chuckled. Nate opened the trapdoor and headed downstairs, emergin on the second-floor balcony seemingly in no time.
 
The gator girl was waiting there. She led him into a shower, where he washed up while the housekeeping staff laundered his clothes for him. He emerged feeling like a new man, and went back into the main hall.
 
Nate slept with three more people - one of them a fellow client - before leaving for the night. The orgy was just starting up, and Nate wasn't sure he was quite ready for that. He checked out with Ken, who went to retrieve Nate's belongings.
 
"You enjoy yerself, kid?" asked Johnny from behind Nate, who turned. Johnny was wearing a huge grin, although in truth his face never seemed to lose at least the ghost of a smile, ready to emerge at any time.
 
"Yeah," said Nate. "A lot."
 
"I got a good report from my girls, too," said Johnny. "And from Zetro. It's good for him to get a little experience in the field, y'know? We just hired him on last month. Here - got somethin' for ya." It was a brand-new copy of Kinky Pleasures Magazine, the February 2012 issue. Johnny held it with something near reverence. He'd had to pay an arm and a leg to get the issue he did have, which had made the rounds on the schoolyard before filtering down to him. Nate tried to find Johnny, but found he couldn't speak.
 
"Don't mention it, kiddo. Listen - you come back anytime, now, y'hear? Gen'ral admission's twenty-five bucks, th' specialty stuff generally runs ya 'bout a hundred a go. Dig?"
 
"Dig," said Nate, and Johnny laughed uproariously, clapping him on the back.
 
"Good kid," said Johnny. Ken emerged with Nate's coat and backpack, and he headed out. He didn't have a job, much of a future, or anywhere to live, but for that evening he had forgotten all of that. For one evening he had lived in a whirlwind of sensuality, puncuated by the bout with Zetro, who he would spend several evenings masturbating over, thanks to the new Kinky Pleasures mag, which had a three-page feature on the "new pred". He smiled as he walked over to the homeless shelter Kevin had spoken about.