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Species Owl
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I've talked with people about the idea of an owls-only dinner party before, one where they get to feast on various animals from the towns they oversee, so that's where this came from. Also because I wanted to try a Mordecai voice again. <.< Hope it's okay?
Also, if it isn't obvious, this is a two-parter, there's some more after the first fade-out. Because why not have some more owl time to yourself, right?
Anyway, I wrote a little backstory thing for it below, it's not to necessarily go along with the audio, cause the audio's pretty straightforward, haha. x3 Though if anybody wants a transcript, let me know, because there's always a tossup between having the pred be audible and going for a more realistic idea of the voice traveling down their throat to you. I think I sorta got both, but it could be possible I've done too much on the realism side.
I'd recommend headphones, as always, and if you want an idea of what the pred in here looks like, try these pictures out. Hope you enjoy!
Invited to an exclusive dinner party, organized by the higher-class owls in your small town? Your friends could hardly believe how lucky you were, receiving one of their red envelopes in the mail. Who out of any of them could say they'd even been to one of the owl's lavish estates, let alone a dinner party, a chance to mingle with them and really take a step up in the world? You really had no idea what you'd done to deserve such an honor, but the very next day, you were in front of the gigantic front doors of the manor, presenting your invitation to a dour-faced owl. The doors loomed over top of you, much too large for you to open yourself, meant for owls and not for you. So it was a relief when the doorsman handed back your invitation, and motioned towards a smaller set of doors off to the side, ones much more appropriately-sized. You brushed a hand through your hair, adjusted your clothes, and stepped inside, ready to have a wonderful time..!
If only the truth was so kind. Not two steps past the door, and you were suddenly tumbling down a greased chute, sliding down until you plopped into a cage on the side of a kitchen. You tried telling the owl chef who came to fetch you that this must have been some misunderstanding, that you were invited, but your cries (as well as all the others from the cage) were ignored. Your clothing was stripped away, and you were set on top of a pie, covered with a thick dollop of whipped cream that held you in place, and gagged with a large cherry before the pie was set on a golden plate and placed on a food cart. As you were wheeled out, your heart sank. Owls of all shapes and colors were sitting around a grand banquet table, passing around plates of delicious-smelling dishes that most prominently featured little critters like you! Mice were being plucked from soups, squirrels were being smeared around in melted cheese, smaller birds were trying to get the batter out of their wings and fly away before they were dropped into an owl's mouth.. And at the head of the table was the fattest, most jovial of them all, who clapped his featherhands together as you (and the pie you were on) was placed in front of him. "Ah, wonderful!" he hoots, wiping some of the cream off of you and slurping it from his feathers. "Do give my compliments to the chef, I can tell this one will be scrumptious." He lifts the pie in one hand, and you, like many before you that night, squeak and cry and plead as his mouth stretches open like a fleshy chasm beneath you, your cries falling on many, many deaf ears as you (and the pie you're on) slide down the fat owl's tongue, a single gulp sending you straight down his throat.
Now you're stuck in his stomach, amidst a thick mess of digested and digesting food. No wonder you were dessert, he's already worked through supper, at least as far as you can tell. Everything's all gunky and squishy, and you're stuck listening to that smug owl. Why hadn't you ever heard about these dinner parties going like this? Then again, nobody you knew had gone off to one, and afterwards, people always seemed to have "moved on to a better existence".. An owl's waistline, that's hardly where you figured your life would go. But, it didn't matter what you wanted. You were just the last course of a very delightful supper for an owl, nothing to do but digest.
Also, if it isn't obvious, this is a two-parter, there's some more after the first fade-out. Because why not have some more owl time to yourself, right?
Anyway, I wrote a little backstory thing for it below, it's not to necessarily go along with the audio, cause the audio's pretty straightforward, haha. x3 Though if anybody wants a transcript, let me know, because there's always a tossup between having the pred be audible and going for a more realistic idea of the voice traveling down their throat to you. I think I sorta got both, but it could be possible I've done too much on the realism side.
I'd recommend headphones, as always, and if you want an idea of what the pred in here looks like, try these pictures out. Hope you enjoy!
Invited to an exclusive dinner party, organized by the higher-class owls in your small town? Your friends could hardly believe how lucky you were, receiving one of their red envelopes in the mail. Who out of any of them could say they'd even been to one of the owl's lavish estates, let alone a dinner party, a chance to mingle with them and really take a step up in the world? You really had no idea what you'd done to deserve such an honor, but the very next day, you were in front of the gigantic front doors of the manor, presenting your invitation to a dour-faced owl. The doors loomed over top of you, much too large for you to open yourself, meant for owls and not for you. So it was a relief when the doorsman handed back your invitation, and motioned towards a smaller set of doors off to the side, ones much more appropriately-sized. You brushed a hand through your hair, adjusted your clothes, and stepped inside, ready to have a wonderful time..!
If only the truth was so kind. Not two steps past the door, and you were suddenly tumbling down a greased chute, sliding down until you plopped into a cage on the side of a kitchen. You tried telling the owl chef who came to fetch you that this must have been some misunderstanding, that you were invited, but your cries (as well as all the others from the cage) were ignored. Your clothing was stripped away, and you were set on top of a pie, covered with a thick dollop of whipped cream that held you in place, and gagged with a large cherry before the pie was set on a golden plate and placed on a food cart. As you were wheeled out, your heart sank. Owls of all shapes and colors were sitting around a grand banquet table, passing around plates of delicious-smelling dishes that most prominently featured little critters like you! Mice were being plucked from soups, squirrels were being smeared around in melted cheese, smaller birds were trying to get the batter out of their wings and fly away before they were dropped into an owl's mouth.. And at the head of the table was the fattest, most jovial of them all, who clapped his featherhands together as you (and the pie you were on) was placed in front of him. "Ah, wonderful!" he hoots, wiping some of the cream off of you and slurping it from his feathers. "Do give my compliments to the chef, I can tell this one will be scrumptious." He lifts the pie in one hand, and you, like many before you that night, squeak and cry and plead as his mouth stretches open like a fleshy chasm beneath you, your cries falling on many, many deaf ears as you (and the pie you're on) slide down the fat owl's tongue, a single gulp sending you straight down his throat.
Now you're stuck in his stomach, amidst a thick mess of digested and digesting food. No wonder you were dessert, he's already worked through supper, at least as far as you can tell. Everything's all gunky and squishy, and you're stuck listening to that smug owl. Why hadn't you ever heard about these dinner parties going like this? Then again, nobody you knew had gone off to one, and afterwards, people always seemed to have "moved on to a better existence".. An owl's waistline, that's hardly where you figured your life would go. But, it didn't matter what you wanted. You were just the last course of a very delightful supper for an owl, nothing to do but digest.
Category Music / Vore
Species Owl
Size 120 x 120px
File Size 3.96 MB
Sure, here:
Mm! Mm, yes, this is most scrumptious. And what is this, mouseroni and cheese, ahaha, oh no, no, thank you. I've had quite enough mice for tonight, wouldn't you say? Oh wait, I guess you wouldn't be able to tell, I've gotten so fat off of the rest of them already, ahahaha! Oh but, be a dear, won't you, I simply must try some of this wine you brought. Vintage 1946, quite nice, quite nice. I've always heard there's nothing like a '46 to go with a full supper. But really, what doesn't go with mice? *Slurp, gulping.* Mm, lovely. I daresay this may be one of our finest harvests yet, don't you think? We'll have to do this again sometime... Perhaps next week!
(Later)
*Yaaawn.* Oh, are you still awake in there, my dear? My my, you certainly have lasted more than those mice friends of yours. Perhaps I had too much bread with supper and prolonged things for you, ah, I'm dreadfully sorry about that. Ah, don't you worry though, my dear. We'll see you properly on your way to my gut with the rest of them soon enough, won't we? I'd hate to keep you from bettering yourself as part of an owl's waistline, after all! *Beeeeelch.* You just go on to sleep, I, *Yawn!*, I'm sure I'll be doing the same momentarily!
Mm! Mm, yes, this is most scrumptious. And what is this, mouseroni and cheese, ahaha, oh no, no, thank you. I've had quite enough mice for tonight, wouldn't you say? Oh wait, I guess you wouldn't be able to tell, I've gotten so fat off of the rest of them already, ahahaha! Oh but, be a dear, won't you, I simply must try some of this wine you brought. Vintage 1946, quite nice, quite nice. I've always heard there's nothing like a '46 to go with a full supper. But really, what doesn't go with mice? *Slurp, gulping.* Mm, lovely. I daresay this may be one of our finest harvests yet, don't you think? We'll have to do this again sometime... Perhaps next week!
(Later)
*Yaaawn.* Oh, are you still awake in there, my dear? My my, you certainly have lasted more than those mice friends of yours. Perhaps I had too much bread with supper and prolonged things for you, ah, I'm dreadfully sorry about that. Ah, don't you worry though, my dear. We'll see you properly on your way to my gut with the rest of them soon enough, won't we? I'd hate to keep you from bettering yourself as part of an owl's waistline, after all! *Beeeeelch.* You just go on to sleep, I, *Yawn!*, I'm sure I'll be doing the same momentarily!
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