This is my first attempt at writing a vore story. Here, we have a semi-realistic and semi-possible encounter between an osprey and a humpback whale. You know, we never see enough baleen whales in vore

It was a sunny day at the coast; the only clouds in the sky were white and puffy. It was perfect weather for fishing, especially if you were an osprey. An iconic white and black bird of prey flew over the ocean looking for food. More specifically, he was looking for a pod of humpback whales. Humpbacks use their blowholes to make bubble nets that force fish into an inclosed area where they can’t escape, most birds took advantage of that opportunity to catch a fish or two. And this osprey was no different. After an hour of soaring, he found a pod of whales in middle of feeding on salmon. From where he was, he could see thousands of salmon jumping at the surface, hundreds of bulls trying to get their fill, and about six whales breaching the surface. Here, he would surely catch a nice, fat fish for himself.

The osprey tucked his wings towards his body to dive towards the water. There wasn’t a specific fish he had his sights set on, but it would hardly matter since there were so many of them. All he had to do was reach his talons out and clutch the first solid thing he felt. Below the water, past the osprey’s vision, one of the humpbacks was gearing for another breach. It’s mouth was wide open to catch as many fish as possible. What that whale didn’t foresee being in its mouth was a feathered-fish-eater. When the whale breached the water, the osprey couldn’t pull up in time. He crashed into the roof of the humpback’s mouth; the baleen wasn’t hard enough to kill him on impact, but it was enough to stun him. He fell into the fish-filled water that was scooped up by the whale.

Sensing that there was creature that wasn’t usually on the menu, the humpback whale stayed at the surface with its mouth open. It figured it was one of the seagulls; they wind up as bycatch on occasion but always fly out. But this bird didn’t seem to move. The whale figuratively shrugged its shoulders and closed its mouth so it could go back underwater to swallow its catch. Still stunned, the osprey did nothing as he was encased in darkness and surrounded by fish. Before he could drown, the whale pushed the water out with its tongue. He was rubbed up against the baleen along with hundreds of fish, breaking both wing bones in the process. With the mouth clear of water, the whale gulped its catch down.

By now, the osprey was starting to snap back into reality; the reality that he was being eaten by a humongus aquatic mammal. It was a tight fit, so there wasn’t much he could do to struggle. It didn’t take long for the esophageal muscles to push him down to the forestomach with the hundreds of fish. There, he had much more freedom to move and tried to attack the stomach walls with his talons. He couldn’t get a good grip, however; there was too much movement from the forestomach muscles and too many fish in the way. The job of the forestomach is to essentially “chew” the food, which includes the osprey in this case. Already injured, it didn’t take much to kill the weakened bird. After being hit roughly by the forestomach the bird’s neck snapped, killing him instantly.

The whale would be completely oblivious to this horrid fate. It just swam peacefully through the water. But such beauty has to be fueled by something, and today that beauty is going to come from a poor osprey.