For Bianchi, it was impossible to top the manic, hedonistic pleasure of having a belly packed full and tight with the futile struggles of a delicious meal...that is, until he met Wasd.


The soft, gentle-spoken foxtaur of exceeding girth and charm made words like "impossible" melt from one's vocabulary like prey melted in his viciously-caustic taurgut; both of which held the rather dominant, predatory donkey in constant awe and embarrassed wonderment.

The foxtaur's almost bottomless hunger was inspiring; his gentle, loving words utterly disarming; and his tender touch reassuring in a way that promised safety and affection for the donk who found himself endlessly laying across the foxtaur’s massive gut, fingers digging into the deep blubber to help the greedy apex predator work down a particularly hefty meal into burbling sludge.

Bianchi's strong instinct to buck and fight such submissive behavior was snuffed out like a candle by his constant longing for the foxtaur's warmth and praise; the joyous donk finding himself regularly held in the predator's embrace with nary a worry in the world.

For Wasd, the donk's unnatural reaction to his presence didn't go unnoticed for a second. Surprising as it was at first, the often smug foxtaur found himself readily basking in the verbal and physical affection the predatory donk was constantly awarding him.

Like a 2-ton cat on a high wire, Wasd walked the razor's edge of poking and teasing Bianchi just enough about his almost prey-like affection to provoke a blushing reaction before deftly bathing the delectable donk in kisses and love in order to diffuse any fears his precious burro would have for being so open and whimpering for him.

Though often smug and greedy as an inside trader--for if Wasd knew anything, it was how to groom anything edible into a willing meal--there was something very different about the donk...something deeply special. Prepared as he was with his repertoire of gentle persuasion and trickery, it wasn’t needed. Bianchi clung to him in the late hours of the night, gently whimpering as he pressed his large ears to his prey-stuffed gut, readily falling asleep with gentle moans as the large foxtaur licked over his headfur and savored his taste.

Bianchi was destined to be food. He knew it, Wasd knew it, and it was only a matter of time before the greedy predator’s hunger overcame his affection for the worshiping, doting donk who longed for his embrace.

Lucky for them both, they wouldn’t be waiting long…

An evening feeding session between the two had left Wasd packed with two bleating, begging meals that failed to truly satisfy. Casting his gaze upon Bianchi--who was in the middle of his own rather filling morsel—the foxtaur began to drool, eagerly eyeing the donk’s ever-expanding hips, distended, prey filled gut, and swollen, shelf-like moobs.

His delectable burro was stuffing himself like a prize-winning turducken, and as Wasd’s guts groaned and squelched as if they were starving, the foxtaur knew that time had finally come to claim the meal he had desired above all others for so very long…

Bianchi Donkey Wasd wasdexdee Foxtaur Vore Oral fat belly digestion nommz gut teasing romance tender willing belching smug hungry story

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An AMAZING set of images, courtesy of nommz, gifted to my lovely foxtaur, wasdexdee.

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