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A Vore-Torn World - Page 98 - Run Away! - By PurpSoul - Overview
The defender heading toward you is big. You really don't want him to hit you. You take off running towards the sidelines, trying to gain some yards as you go. He's right behind you, hard on your heels, and you put all your effort into sprinting faster. Your feet barely seem to touch the ground as you go, and with a sigh of relief, you fly out of bounds. You even managed to get the first down, somehow. You finally slow down, breathing hard, but smiling.

You stop both when you realize where you are. You're momentum carried you right through the middle of the cheer formation. A group of girls in colorful tank tops and miniskirts surrounds you. You get a sick feeling in your gut as you realize something.

They aren't wearing your colors.

You freeze, afraid to move or speak. A few of the girls are eyeing you and giggling. Others smirk, some simply stare. You see no easy way out, there's a young girl or two in every direction. There's no way you could fight through them or overpower them. You'll just have to hope they let you walk back to the field unharmed and uneaten.

You take a few, slow steps in the direction of the field. The tallest girl there blocks the way, hands on her hips and an expression on her face that you don't like at all.

You're a fairly tall guy, so you aren't used to having anyone tower over you. This girl has nearly a whole head on you, and she peers down at you disdainfully.

"You're on the wrong side, idiot," she snaps. You hold up your hands in a warding gesture, and you open your mouth to speak, but she seizes you by your collar and lifts you up off the ground, bringing you eye to eye. "Don't think for a second I don't know what you're up to. Thought you'd come crashing into the cheerleaders, huh? Drop the pretense, you came over here on purpose. You just wanted to check us out. Didn't you?"

"Uh, n-no, I just-" you begin, but a hard slap to the face silences you.

"We have a word for boys like you. Perverts."

"I'm not a pervert! Please, can you let me-"

"Actually, two words. Can you guess what the second one is?"

You struggle to free yourself from her clutches, but she's many times stronger than you. You might as well be a child. "I r-really need to get back..."

"Let me give you a little clue," the mean cheerleader says, as she slips her other hand between your legs and uses it to push you into her mouth without warning. She gulps quickly, pushing you inside her like a hot dog. Your helmet clatters to the ground at her feet, and your legs kick uselessly. Her tongue darts over your body as it slides into her gullet, never to be seen again.

Well, not as it is now. Your feet disappear behind her plump lips in a matter of seconds, and a small belch escapes her. She places her hands on her big round boobs, which rest on top of her now bloated stomach. Her friends giggle and joke about her latest meal, teasing and making rude comments about you and your fate.

"Heehee, I hope he was a better meal than he was a football player!" you hear one laugh as you struggle and squirm within her. She apparently intends to make quick work of you, because your submerged in hot, smelly acids up to your chest already, and her tummy is contracting around you, growing more and more compact.

"Help!" you cry desperately. There's no way you're escaping on your own. Your only answer is a chorus of giggles.

"Aw, he's so scared!"

"I think you mean pathetic..."

You feel a finger jab at you from outside the tight, murderous belly. "You're gonna die in there, little guy! Isn't that exciting!"

"Yeah, you're totally gonna splat!"

You whimper in terror as pain starts to take hold. Your squirms are pitiful and worthless.

"Uh-oh, his coach is coming..."

"Quick, crunch him!"

Those are the last words you hear before the belly entombing you shrinks rapidly, squashing you tight.

"NGGGHHH!" you groan, eyes wide. Your head goes underneath the acids and they begin eating at your skin. You can't even squirm anymore, it's too tight. You can only choke on the searing juices as your body is crushed tighter and tighter... until you cave in. Her belly continues shrinking, forcing your now lifeless body into a gooey ball of meat the size of a basketball, with broken bones poking out here and there.

As your mushy remains stew away inside her, your coach squints suspiciously at the group of cheerleaders, eyeing their tummies. You are just small enough now that you make only a small impact on her figure, a little bump on her tummy. There wouldn't really be anything she could do anyway, but she's never liked other schools eating her boys. She views you as her property, her stock her goods, and she's a bit selfish.

When she leaves, the tall, busty girl sighs in relief, then gasps as a loud poot splits her buttcheeks. Her cheeks redden as her friends all titter.

"Wow, I didn't thin he could get an shittier!" they tease.

You get shittier yet by the time the tall girl is done with you. After the game ends, your entire team becomes chow, and the away team is leaving, she squats behind a bush, relieving her bowels of smelly Gil. She wipes with your jersey and leaves it siting on the pile. She nabs your helmet and heads home with the rest of the girls.

Later that night, she opens her closet door and admires the collection of football helmets. There are at least 30 or more, from all kinds of different schools. She adds yours to the collection and smacks her gut happily. One last poot pops out, and that's the end of you.




You are dead.
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