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Krystal’s Photo Op
 
By Star_Sage, as a trade for Overprotective Guardian
 
Contains unaware and unwilling nonfatal vore, macro/micro, full tour, scat and urine, and everyone’s favorite blue vixen.
 
The day was bright and cheery, which is to say, there wasn’t a cloud in the sky, and the sun at Lylat’s center was shining yellow, like it should. That last really shouldn’t have been optional, but lately every other villain seemed to want to screw with the sun, and it always changed the thing’s color. From blue during Andross’ last scheme, to purple when the Aparoids tried to eat it, and finally the Anglers turned the thing plaid. She still wasn’t sure how that one worked, but it wasn’t really an issue.
 
Her name was Krystal (No last name given), a blue vixen going into her adult years, and standing about average in height. She wore almost nothing, but then, her traditional spiritualist garb was designed that way, leaving her fur to waft in the breeze. She was a member of Star Fox, and while the others had their uniforms, she liked her garb. Heck, she wore more than some of the people she knew, the dinosaurs for instance usually just wore collars and such.
 
Sighing into the breeze, Krystal laid back against a tree, letting the sun soak into her coat, the blue fur waving gently in the wind, as she lounged, trying to let the stress of mercenary life just melt away. Beyond her vision, she knew her Arwing was waiting, probably with a message for her from Fox McCloud to come back to the Great Fox for more missions, but she was set on using at least a few hours to relax in nature, rather than in some bunk in a cold steel box.
 
So she’d sat here, for almost the last hour or more, and Tom had been watching. Tom was a reporter. For what, well, that varied. Mostly he just sold photos of celebrities from all over Lylat to the tabloids. Today, the object of his pursuit was Krystal herself, the vixen having given many a paparazzi the slip over the years. Tom, a fox himself, had a trick most of them didn’t, however, and had been able to stow away in Krystal’s ship, only slipping out when he was sure she wasn’t going to take off any time soon.
 
This trick was a matter resizer. A belt that let him change how big he was. It was a great find, something he’d picked up covering a science expo years ago, and it let him take some very nice pictures, shots that made him the envy of every other reporter in the system. Today, he was using it to climb up the tree she was lounging against, snapping shot after shot, and getting some very nice candid images to sell to whoever was paying top dollar.
 
Of course, as is often the case, the best of plans can go awry in an instant. In this moment, the cause of frustration was the breeze the vixen was enjoying. Tom’s tiny body barely felt the stuff, as it just blew around him, as he pointed his camera down, not even hearing the rustling of the leaves. If he had been paying attention, he might have heard the snap as one of those leaves was torn free, though he probably couldn’t have reacted fast enough, as the green sheet flew right at him, his five inch tall body being smacked by the thing with enough force to cause the wind to be knocked from him in one gasping wheeze.
 
That last bit was important, as it meant he could only let out a harsh, winded cry as he felt himself be lifted up by the leaf, and then get tossed aside as the greenery flipped in the air. He, unlike the leaf, couldn’t float in the breeze, and instead went straight down like a rock. His view of the world rushed by. Gray tree bark, green leaves, and the lapping of lake water nearby counterpointed by the thing below, as the vixen, her eyes closed, let out a yawn.
 
Her gaping maw opened like a pit, teeth glinting wickedly in the light, while the throat widened apart. Tom barely had an instant to register the sight before he fell right in, the light, cool air changing into the damp, humid, and heavy air of her breathing as he splatted hard into her tongue, which carried him like a slide into her muzzle. Teeth snapped shut just shy of biting him in two, but Tom’s fortune only extended that far, as he fell head first down her throat, which accepted him with a deep, powerful gulp.
 
Krystal, outside, nearly choked on the thing that fell into her mouth, about the size of a mouse, or maybe a rat. She reacted with reflex, her body determining it could get it down, and so a bulge formed in her throat, a wriggling, moving thing that squirmed as it descended. Inside her throat, Tom did the squirming, his hands trying to find purchase on the saliva slicked walls, but the muscles behind felt food, and closed around his wrists as they guided him downwards, between a set of roaring lungs, and a deep thudding heart.
 
Tom’s journey was short, his size making it only a little ways from mouth to throat. Of course, his journey wasn’t smooth, as Krystal had already eaten that morning, a large picnic lunch she’d made back at the Great Fox, one that she’d devoured ravenously. So large, that it was still inside her gut, a goop that slathered all over the small fox as he splatted inside her, her body forcing his to curl up on itself as he was shoved roughly into her stomach.
 
Krystal’s feeling of Tom’s journey was just as rough, her body wracked by coughs as she felt for a few moments like she would vomit him back up, but she was a tough survivor, and even as he pushed and poked at the walls of her belly, she kept him down with a few gulps. Heck, she could feel the tickle as tiny scrabbling hands tried to force their way back into her throat, and she reached over to her pack and downed a few swallows of water from her canteen, forcing the thing back into her belly.
 
When she recovered, the vixen looked up to find a few squirrels scrambling away from her, and patted at her stomach, feeling the tiny thing within her still fighting. Apparently one of the fuzzy things had missed a jump, and become a meal for the vixen, who licked her lips, finding the taste of the thing now in her gut to be at least decent. With that in mind, she swallowed more water, to force it down deeper, and then let out a belch, getting the air from her stomach out.
 
“That should make your passing painless, at least,” she told it, rubbing where she could feel its tiny, desperate struggles already weakening. Inside, Tom was trying to shout at her who he was, his hands pushing at the wall of her stomach, attempting to pound it in the sludge he was in. He felt her talk, more than heard her through the liquid, and his own words were lost as mere blurbles in the goop.
 
Slowly Tom felt the air leave his lungs, and he realized she was planning on digesting him like some common rodent. He tried to force his way back up her throat, but the liquid and sludge made it impossible, so he reached lower, swimming throat the muck till he found the entrance that went lower. Pulling at it, he found that at least smoothly pulled apart, and with a push of strength he barely knew he had, he was inside her intestines, a tube of flesh that was at least not full of liquid, letting him breath in deep gasps of fetid air.
 
Krystal felt his movements, but figured they were just a final death struggle, and went back to her relaxing. Leaning back against the tree again, she let her mind drift, and soon enough, she was snoring, her body automatically working as she slept. Deep inside her, Tom felt her body seem to come alive around him. The walls pulsed, and tiny wriggling things began to pull at him, not like ripping blades or anything, but more like sticky fingers.
 
The problem was, they coated every part of the walls, floor, and ceiling, and as he felt them pull at him, liquid began to slowly fill the tube. In a while, he knew her stomach would empty out into her intestine, and that muck would bury him again. Not wanting to drown inside Krystal’s gut, he began to drag himself forward, pulling himself towards the exit inch by inch, even as the liquid grew higher and higher around him.
 
Luckily, Krystal was on her back, so there were no falls or rises, just a twist in the tube as he moved. It let him go easily. More, he was going with the flow, rather than against it, so despite the villi tugging at him, he was helped along by the undulation of the walls. It was still tiring working, his breathing becoming strained as he used up more and more of the air, until finally, he made the last push forward, and fell into a sticky, putrid tunnel, wider than before, but filled with air.
 
Breathing it in, Tom felt it tasted almost as sweet as any he had ever had. His aching muscles, joyous to be free, had him collapse into a near exhausted haze, while his own brain, barely functional, began to pass out. The last thing he felt before sleep took him was a shaking, everything around him rumbling, before he finally let his eyes close, and allowed himself to rest.
 
Tom woke up later. Hours or minutes could have passed, but his body told him he’d had enough rest for now, as everything was shaking again. This was more an issue now, than it had been before, as he was no longer in a simple tube. Now, he was in some fleshy chamber, that was warm to the touch, the walls slick with slime, and his hands barely able to grip thim as they slipped out of his grasp.
 
Above him, he could feel Krystal, and he knew he was still inside her, as the beating of her heart was still the loudest sound he heard. That, and a gurgling that told him he was not where he wanted to be. No, he was inside her colon or something, the place where poop was stored before it could be excreted. That meant the gurgling sound was a load, some hot and heavy, working its way through her body, and towards him.
 
Despite his condition, Tom felt a surge of adrenaline lending him strength as he tried to force his way out of the chamber, kicking and punching at the walls. Krystal felt these motions, and with all the attention she could give it, she shifted her stance, her cheeks pulling apart, as she applied a bit of pressure. Inside, Tom was shoved against a tight sphincter, the ring of muscle nearly crushing him as he put his hands through it, and with a tug, forced his way out.
 
Expecting trees and grass, the reporter was startled when the thing outside the vixen was instead a space of darkness, with light shining in above, while below a rippling sea of water stood. Landing with a splash in that sea, he tasted chemicals, cleansers, and other things that stung at his eyes, making everything blurry in his vision as he spun around, trying to find out where he was as he floated in the liquid.
 
Krystal, in the cockpit of her arwing, barely noticed as she dropped the log, which had been blocking up her insides for a while. A heavy weight that, now released, allowed her to relieve herself of another burden into the fighter’s onboard toilet. Pulling her cheeks apart even wider, she pushed against her bladder, and a torrent of piss came loose, the musky smelling liquid spilling out like a waterfall.
 
Inside the toilet, Tom was struck hard by the urine, as the stream pushed him down into the chemicals, the musty liquid only adding to his problems as it forced its way into his throat and nose, stinging the latter, and tasting foul in the former. Worse, it had so much pressure behind it that he was forced down deeper into the chemical bath, eventually slamming hard into a wall, that automatically thought it was full, and opened another pipe in the chamber.
 
Tom was sucked out of the toilet with all the force of an airlock. The liquid shot through the pipe, spilling out of the arwing in a small drizzle of chemical and urine, that then splashed into the lake below, the water rippling as Tom fell into it. Luckily, the lake wasn’t too far below, and the arwing hadn’t been flying that fast, so Tom was uninjured. Unluckily, he nearly went into shock, as the ice cold water was a sharp counterpoint to the vixen’s innards.
 
A week later, and several baths cleaner, Tom would turn in the photos to a tabloid that paid him a few very nice bucks for the privilege of them. He then swore off using the shrinking belt to get the photos, setting the thing aside, and trying to find a new job.
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Krystal's Photo Op By Foxgut -- Report

Uploaded: 3 years ago

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This was written by Star_Sage, as his half of a story trade in exchange for Overprotective Guardian. In the tale he wrote, a tabloid journalist is looking for the inside scoop on one of the galaxy's favorite heroes! He gets far more 'inside' Krystal than he could've hoped for however.

Contains unaware and unwilling nonfatal vore , macro/micro, full tour, scat and urine, and everyone’s favorite blue vixen.

Star_Sage's original upload is here: https://www.furaffinity.net/view/24224334/

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zoroark720

Posted by zoroark720 2 years ago Report

totaly would not sneak in side her to thank lewd picks in a diving suit