Finally, the first of "The Vore Parlor" works, set in the world of The Divine Game. This was made in part in an attempt to forstall an art block; trying to get off short works wherein I write it through, make one revision pass, and then post it, to create and finish creative works without allowing myself to stess over them.

In this first piece, we meet Reynard, a proud wolfen warrior who's about to discover the allure of being prey to for the purpose of recreation.



The First Timer



Why am I doing this?

Reynard had asked himself that question so many times now that he’d lost count. Despite having an answer, it wasn’t exactly a compelling one, and so he found himself asking the same question, and giving himself the same solid yet unhelpful answer.

The bystanders on the street had no idea of his repetitive inner monologue, seeing only an anthro wolf clad in leather armor resting his back against the wall of the inn. Wanderers, warriors, and mercenaries were a common site in Famis, even more so in and around the cities many taverns, and so no one gave him a second look. But the tavern to his back was not what was on his mind, and he was not merely staring into space. Rather, it was the building across the street that had his undivided attention; the vore parlor.

It wasn’t so long ago that he would never have even considered stepping foot in such a place. Vore wasn’t some form of entertainment, but the ending of a battle, to bring an end to a vile creature in order to give life to another. He was a predator, devouring corrupt beasts, even corrupted men, and bringing them back into the folds of the civilized. To devour another whole was the means by which one served their gods, to bring the souls of the world under the influence of the gods. When one is digested alive within another, their soul is taken to the domain of the god of the predator, to be given a life, or returned to life, under the god’s domain. It was a gift of the gods, meant to further the goals of the gods.

And yet parlors like the one before him existed seemingly everywhere, where people could devour each other for entertainment, or other reasons. While he knew that such devouring, where each individual is under the providence of the same alliance of gods, resulted in the reformation of the one devoured into the same form after a short time, Reynard just couldn’t understand why people would want to do such a thing.

How did he talk me into this?

That was one he still didn’t have an answer for, and why the first question still gave him trouble. For reasons he just couldn’t fathom, a fox friend of his frequented this parlor, but not as a predator. Terrence said he quite enjoyed being the prey, the one being devoured. The idea of a predator wanting to be prey was something he just couldn’t wrap his head around. All he knew was that Terrence enjoyed it enough that he was more than willing to spend his earnings to experience it. If he hadn’t known the fox so well, he would have thought him crazy. But if there was one thing he most certainly admired in Terrence, it was the soundness, sharpness, and quickness of that crafty mind.

Thinking of it that way, that was precisely how Terrence had indeed talked him into it. He’d even gotten Reynard to give his sworn word that he’d try it once. He should have only agreed to do it as a predator, to see what it felt like when it was by consent as opposed to a struggle. Instead, he’d said he’d try and see what Terrence did, which was being inside the stomach.

Of course, Terrence had made sure that Reynard had given his word, as that was the one thing Reynard wouldn’t break except under the most dire of circumstances, which this was not one of by any stretch. And if he went back on it in any way, Terence would find out, and the thought of having to explain his lie was even harder to stomach than the thought of being in one. Reynard had already thought about their conversation from every angle, and knew that he’d been cleanly tricked, without any graceful outs. It wasn’t the first time Terrence had talking him into something, and he knew it wouldn’t be the last.

Let’s just get this over with. He was talking himself in circles, and he knew that all he was really doing was stalling, not really trying to talking himself into or out of anything. He was a wolf on a mission as he crossed the street, but paused a moment at the door to loosen his muscles. No sense barging in looking ready to start a fight or something.

Much to his relief, and mild surprise, the interior entry area looked like the interior of an inn. It was a rather large waiting area, with a reception counter in front of the wall directly across from him. The portion of wall behind the counter was adorned with numerous hooks upon which a number of keys dangled. To the right against the wall was a stairwell leading up, and to the left a hallway leading further into the building with doors on either side. If he’d stumbled in at night without reading the sign, he would have honestly believed this was a modest inn, for there was nothing he could see to indicate anything otherwise.

He was peripherally aware of the patron behind the counter keeping tabs on him as he looked around, which was an easy feat for her given the spider had eight eyes. “Welcome to my parlor,” she said sweetly once his eyes rested solidly upon her, and Reynard was impressed with how clear her voice was. What few spiders he’d talked to in the past had rather thick racial accents with how their mouths and mandible interacted. “I believe this is your first time here?”

“Yes,” he replied, trying to sound casual and not really succeeding to his ears. “A friend of mine recommended I-“

“You must be Reynard,” she interrupted, catching him by surprise. “Your friend Terrence is a regular here; to the point that some patrons have confused him for one of my associates. He told me to expect you around this time. He must know you pretty well.”

It took a few moments for Reynard to find any words, having realized that he was expected. “That he does,” he replied, managing to keep his composure through his surprise. “Did he happen to mention…why I would be coming here?”

“He did, and I can assure you, if you wish, your complete confidentiality in what happens here can be assured.”

Reynard found himself smiling. “You’re used to this, aren’t you?”

She smiled in return, an impressive feat for one without proper lips. “That I am. Would you like the tour of what we offer here?”

“I’d…rather just do what I came here for, if you don’t mind.” He knew he likely sounded awfully blunt, and maybe even a little rude, but he was having a hard enough time as it was, and he didn’t want to strain his emotions anymore than this exercise already was.

“Very well,” she replied, something in her demeanor telling him that no offence was taken. “I know the one to talk to, and fortunately he’s free at the moment.”

As she began to make her way out from behind the counter he interjected, “How much is this going to be?”

“Oh, don’t worry dear, this one’s on the house. That’s our policy for first time clients. The first time is free, and if it is not something you care for, you have lost nothing but a little time. Though we do as much as we can to make sure our clients understand what they are getting into, it is something that is hard to understand until you have experienced it first hand.”

She led him up a flight of stairs and down a hall, Reynard trying to fight back a bit of apprehension. He couldn’t help but glance at every door he passed, his mind filling in what was likely happening behind some of those doors. A part of him still just couldn’t fathom how people found such a thing as devouring another person to be a recreational thing. It was a divine means of freeing the soul from the tyranny of corrupt and evil gods to be reborn under the providence of the blessed gods, and often that rebirth was a return to a life taken away. He knew, within his soul, there was another, a life under the dominance of another god, a darker god, for he had once been devoured by a foul creature, and later restored. It was a life he never wanted returned to the world.

“Having second thoughts?” a voice interrupted him, his brain taking a moment to recognize the spider’s voice. It was then he realized that she’d tried to get his attention once, and he had in fact nearly walked right on past her as she’d stopped at a door.

“No. Not really. It’s just…” he trailed off, not knowing how best to express himself.

“It is a bit of an adjustment, isn’t it?” she asked, nodding as she gestured towards his armor. “I must admit, I have very few warrior types among my clientele among those seeking to be eaten by another. I’m sure you can guess why.”

Reynard didn’t say anything, just trying to give a polite smile. He was trying hard to be accepting of all this, but it wasn’t easy. It was taking quite an effort just to keep going, though his hosts calm and polite demeanor did a lot to put him at ease. Terrence, I will get you back for this.

“But here you are,” she continued, “willing to partake in a new experience at the behest of a friend. Again, I assure you, I will personally see to it that you may leave here as if nothing ever happened if you so wish.”

“I’ll…make that decision when it’s over.”

Again she gave him a smile, and it was always mildly unnerving to see a spider smile. “Very well,” she said simply, before knocking on the door gently with two of her arms. “Carther, you have a client.”

After a few moments, the door opened to reveal one of the largest individuals Reynard had ever met. The alligator was by no means fat, but he was certainly a giant among men, and it seemed unlikely that he could have walked straight through most doorways, requiring ducking or even at times sidestepping to get through. He wore nothing but loose trouser that would never have stayed on but for the belt around his waist, and stood with the ease of one with such power that his body may as well have been small and compact to him. He looked down on Reynard, and somehow managed to look so gentle that Reynard thought a timid man would have been unlikely to be intimidated by the towering figure.

“Reynard, I would like you to meet Carther. Carther, this is Reynard, a friend of Terrence’s and a first timer.”

“A friend of Terrence, eh?” Carther said, his voice coming from so deep in his chest Reynard could almost swear he heard an echo. “I’ve had the pleasure of knowing his company on a few occasions. Come on in, and make yourself comfortable.”

Reynard did as much, though he couldn’t help but flinch as the door closed with a click behind him. The room, to his surprise, looked much like a nicely furbished inn room. Or perhaps more like the guest room of a manor, once he thought about it. It was well furnished, having little more than the necessities of a room meant for living, barring the second bed with its sheets pulled back, but all of it of good quality, with little in the way of personal touches. It wasn’t what he was expecting, but then he couldn’t truly define what precisely he had been expecting.

“Surprised?” Carther asked, and Reynard turned to see an all too knowing look in the gators eyes above his toothy grin. “A lot of first timers seem to expect something that evokes ‘lair’, and that couldn’t be further from the truth. Well, for most of us anyway. Some like that look. So tell me, what do you think goes on in these rooms?”

“I…honestly don’t know,” Reynard admitted. “I came here to learn, which requires me wash away any preconceived notions and see things for what they truly are.” Reynard surprised himself a little with those words, though they came from the heart, which could often find the words the mind could not.

“As in battle, you cannot understand the enemy unless you have met the enemy,” Carther replied knowingly. “Wise words. I’m glad I’m not going to have to do a lot of arguing with you. But you did not come here to see, you came here to experience. And to do that, you’re going to want to remove your armor, preferably taking off the undergarments as well.”

Under any other circumstance, such a statement would have been offensive. In a vore parlor, however, it was simply a matter of logic. While the divine nature of vore allowed for the reformation of one’s body, it was well known that it was only the body that was restored, and not anything one might have been wearing at the time. Having no desire to have to thoroughly wash his clothing or armor, or possibly needing to replace either, he did as requested, finding it incredibly difficult to suppress his ever increasing apprehension about the whole thing. It was wrecking havoc on his instincts knowing that he’d soon willingly surrender himself as prey, even though there would be no consequence to it other than a bit of time lost.

“The first time’s always the hardest,” Carther remarked. “A lot of natural instincts to get past. And it’s always hardest for predators, having to get over two sets of instincts.”

“Terrence took to it like a fish to water,” Reynard muttered, before realizing that he’d said it out loud, loud enough for the gator to hear. He stopped in the middle of pulling his pants down to look over, only to see the gator suppressing a chuckle. Reynard wasn’t sure if the chuckle originated from the look that was surely on his face or the awkward position he’d stopped in.

“There are always exceptions,” Carther said amiably, “as there are in everything. Oh, I’ve seen just about everything, from predators preferring to be prey to prey that wish to be predators. Some have even achieved just that, and one’s even working here. You’d be surprised at some of the…unique tastes some have, with the experiences they desire to have. But that’s not why you’re here, so I’ll stick to the basics.”

It took an effort to keep his mind from self extrapolating on what “unique tastes” Carther was referring to, until what lay before him came front and center to his mind once again. There he was, standing naked before a massive gator, who within a short period of time would devour him unless he changed his mind, which he was determined not to do. He had given his word after all.

“In this case,” Carther continued, “the basics would be me devouring you, with you staying in my stomach until you were comfortable, and we discuss where to go from there.”

“What do you mean by that?” Reynard asked, wondering what Carther meant by “where to go from there”.

“Not everyone’s comfortable going through the whole process their first time, even when they think they are going in. If you’re not comfortable, I can let you back out. If you are comfortable, then comes the preference of how to go. Some like it gentle, and some like it…natural.”

This time, Reynard could not suppress the shudder. The thought of wanting to be in pain by preference was almost beyond his comprehension. But then, he had once met a hyena who took pleasure from experiencing pain. Just a different state of mind.

“So, just one step at a time?” Reynard reaffirmed.

“Exactly. You’re the one in control here. I’m just here to guide you along.”

That thought put him more at ease, and building up his resolve, he knew the best thing he could do was to face this new experience head on. “Then let’s get started.”

“Very well. First thing’s first; how do you want to go in? Feet first, or head first? For first timers, I normally recommend feet first, so that they can communicate with me in case the experience begins to overwhelm them.”

“I’ll go head first,” Reynard answered. “I’m going in, whether or not I enjoy it. Once I’m in your stomach I’ll have fulfilled my promise, and it need not go further.”

“Seems reasonable. Are you ready?”

“As ready as I’ll ever be,” he replied, hearing the apprehension in his own voice.

“If it makes it easier,” Carther began, “think of this as…training research.” Reynard was a bit confused as to what he meant by that, and the spreading smile on Carther’s face told him that much was evident on his own features. “While the process of devouring another whole is at least in part instinctual, actually performing the task under duress is another matter entirely, as you surely know. Their instructor being their first prey could be invaluable training for devouring in combat, so that their first opponent doesn’t turn the tables on them due to a mistake from inexperience.”

It took only a moment’s thought to see the wisdom in those words, and the shift in seeing what he was doing from ordeal to training research made him relax tremendously. He had seen for himself others use poor technique and were themselves devoured. Such training was normally conducted on low threat, captured beasts, but for the instructor to be the prey would give a student far more valuable lessons.

“Do you mind if I resist then?” Reynard asked as he approached. “It will help me keep that mindset of being teacher more so than being prey.”

“Not at all, in fact I have a few regulars who enjoy being, well, dominated by the predator like that. I won’t go that far with you of course, but I can assure you, you won’t hurt me or manage to get away. I’ve had practice.”

Not to mention you out mass me considerably, he thought. Were this an actual engagement, even he knew that if the gator got a solid grip on him he was virtually finished, even with a weapon. As it was, he walked up to the gator of his own free will, telling himself that, if nothing else, he would walk away from this with a very interesting training measure to consider.

Carther seized his arms a few moment after Reynard came to a stop before him, and the wolf was impressed at how the gator could exert such a firm grip with it not feeling uncomfortable. Surely, Carther must have practiced extensively to find that level of pressure for his grip. The thought was a fleeting one though, for as Carther’s mouth opened wide and began to descend, Reynard’s instincts kicked in and he began to struggle.

Even before his head was within the gator’s mouth, Reynard knew that Carther had not been boasting. He wasn’t going anywhere, not with Carther’s hands holding him almost as well as though Reynard were in fact paralyzed. Carhter calmly lowered his jaws over Reynard’s twisting head, closing firmly over a fair portion of his upper torso in the process. The gator’s teeth applied numerous points of pressure over his body, but with not quite enough force to puncture the skin, holding firmly without penetrating, which a small portion of Reynard’s mind not dedicated to freeing himself admired that level of control.

With an ease that surprised the wolf, Carther lifted him up into the air, his legs thrashing uselessly now above him. Releasing only enough pressure so that Reynard would slide against his hide, gravity forced Reynard down to the back of the gator’s mouth and to the start of the throat. Whatever measures Carther lightened on so that Reynard could move deeper into him were replaced with gravity, so that despite the slight release of pressure, he was still unable to move in any way to actually facilitate escape.

Once Carther’s throat opened for the first gulp, it was over. Reynard was amazed at how far he was pulled in with that first gulp, as after that first pull his arms, up to his elbows, were within the gator’s throat, pressed securely against his sides. His thrashing legs came to an abrupt stop as Carther seized his ankles with that same solid yet non-squeezing grip of his.

Carther’s throat muscles relaxed and contracted once more, pulling him with such force that, were there space to move, he might have undergone whiplash were it much faster. His head was not yet in the stomach, but one more pull would change that for sure. A distant portion of his mind noted that Carther’s throat had a similar grip to the gator’s hands; encompassing, firm, yet not painfully tight. In fact, it reminded him of a time when he’d slept in a heavy cold weather sleeping bag while trekking across a mountain. He had gotten in damp from rains that should have been snow, and the sleeping bag had proven warmer than he’d needed, leaving him damp yet warm under the weight of its thick layer of padding.

The sudden release of pressure brought him back to the present, as his head and shoulders were suddenly no longer gripped by the gator’s throat. He’d finally begun to enter the stomach. Gulp by gulp he continued to slide in, his saliva soaked fur allowing him to slide across the stomach walls without the barest hint of friction. At this point he stopped bothering to struggle, instead focusing his efforts into making sure that he ended up upright and reasonably comfortable once the entirety of his body was within Carther’s stomach.

It proved easier than he’d thought, and he wondered just how much practice, or perhaps focus of the divine spark within him, Carther had done to make that work. Either way, Reynard sat within the gator’s gullet, arms wrapped around his knees and his back resting against the Carther’s front. All in all, Reynard had to admit that he was actually quite comfortable, all things considered, and the air smelled no less fresh then that outside.

“How are you doing?” Carther asked, his voice sounding a little odd coming as much through his body as through the air.

“I have to admit…this isn’t as bad as I’d thought. I…hadn’t thought about how one could modify the gift of devouring in such a fashion.” Reynard spoke slowly, the words coming out as he realized the obvious truth in them, going from thought to mouth without interruption.

“You caught on quicker than most,” Carther said, sounding pleased. “Most first timers waste time asking why it doesn’t smell rank or why they don’t feel any acids.”

The two stayed silent for a while, Reynard acclimating himself even as he felt Carther move to seat himself. It was comfortably warm inside of Carther, and the smooth, yielding flesh was actually quite comfortable to rest upon. With a realization that surprised him, he knew that if it weren’t for the wet fur and somewhat cramped confines, he would have no complaints about were he resided.

“It’s…quite comfortable in here, all things considered,” he finally said.

“I do what I can. I take it from your lack of struggling that you’re enjoying the full body embrace?”

Reynard liked that phrasing, as at present, that was what was going on. He wasn’t so much eaten as being held within the gator. There was something…calming, about being wholly inside another living creature that meant you no ill will or harm. “I...guess I am,” he said absently.

He felt as much as heard the chuckle. “I knew you would. Terrence wouldn’t have pressured you into it if he wasn’t sure you’d enjoy it, despite yourself. Now, would you like to come out, or stay in there a bit longer?”

“I’d…like to relax a bit longer, if you don’t mind. After that, well, I’ve come this far, so…”

Again, his body was lightly bounced by the gator’s chuckling. “Just let me know when you’re ready.”

Reynard took that time to try and figure out just why he was enjoying himself. While there was still a part of him uncomfortable with being inside the stomach of another being, it was a small, distant part of himself, far in the background to the part that wasn’t bothered by it. He wasn’t even sure if he was actually enjoying it or taking pleasure in it, as it were, but he was certain that, despite what he thought he’d been sure of going in, being inside Carther wasn’t bothering him at all. Neither was the thought of being digested. Terrence had never lied to him, and the fox had assured him that he’d simply wake up as though nothing had happened. And as all his fears and apprehensions had so far bee for naught, what were the odds that the final part would be any different?

Finally, he could put it off no longer. “Okay Carther, I’m ready to see this through to the end, the way Terrence prefers it.”

“Very well Reynard. I promise you that you will feel no pain.”

And with that, the wolf felt the acids begin to fill Carther’s stomach. As the gator had promised, there was no pain, and it rather felt like warm bath water. It certainly gave no impressions of being acid.

Once it reached up past his ankles, he carefully lifted his foot and shook it a bit. He could still feel it, and he could feel that it had washed the saliva off. Just a bit tentatively, he reached down to feel his foot.

The moment his paw touched, he wished he hadn’t. Even with how little his foot had been in the acid, Reynard could feel that all the fur from the ankle down was gone. The acid was most certainly dissolving him, and he fought back a surge of panic. He’d asked for this, and there wasn’t any pain. All he needed to do was to wait for the end.

“Have you ever been eaten before?” he asked to take his mind off the fact that the acids were steadily dissolving his feet as the acid level reached his waist. The last thing he wanted were all too vivid images of what was happening to his body that he couldn’t see.

“A time or two,” Carther replied. “It’s not easy finding those capable of accommodating my size. It takes a lot of discipline to control one’s spark enough to alter that much of the body. There is a snake I know here who’ll oblige, even if he likes to tease me about how long it takes him to finish me. But to be perfectly honest, I much prefer being a predator myself.”

“So do I. I think I’ll try my hand at being a recreational predator the next time I come.” Reynard hadn’t realized he’d made that commitment until the words left his mouth, but he couldn’t take them back without lying. Now that he was beginning to understand why others partook in vore for reasons other than divine battle, he was becoming curious as to how it felt from the other end.

“I’m sure Terrence would love to hear that, and would certainly help you out there. I must say, I hadn’t thought you a natural when you walked through that door.”

“I’m not sure I am,” Reynard said. “I can’t say that I’m really enjoying this per say-”

“But you don’t dislike it either. Yes, I know the type. Let me guess, you’ve been trying to figure out why you don’t dislike it, haven’t you?”

Reynard stayed silent to the gator’s insight, bringing his mind back to the feelings around his body and that, startlingly, the acids were already covering his stomach, and he could no longer feel his feet at all.

“Don’t think too hard on it,” Carther continued. “It’ll come to you in its own time. Tell me, how are you holding up?”

“I’m fine, though I’m getting a little tired.”

“That’s what I thought. Just relax and get comfortable.”

He already was comfortable, so he closed his eyes and let what he was feeling paint a different picture in his mind. It really did feel like a nice warm bath after a stressful day, and he really wished he could extend his legs. But then in his mental image he simply turned and dangled his legs over the long side of the tub as he rested his back against the other. His legs weren’t warm anyway, and when he slid his back down a bit he could feel his neck submerge, his chin resting just atop, just like he were actually in the tub in his mind. His muscles relaxed like he’d never felt before, and he sighed in contentment.

Suddenly, there was a disconnect between his mental image and his position. He wasn’t sitting with his legs up to his chest anymore he realized, and there was no longer the feeling of being submerged. When he opened his eyes, instead of pitch dark, he saw the wooden rafters of a room.

The rest of the feelings became clear, and he realized he was lying naked in one of the beds, the sheets pulled up neatly to his throat. He could hardly believe it was all over, that he was reformed as though nothing had happened. He hadn’t even realized he had died at all.

“Welcome back,” he heard Carther’s voice call. “That’s why the sheets are pulled back on one of the beds. You’d be surprised how many people are worried about modesty, and would rather ruin a perfectly good set of clothes than be seen naked, so we make sure they’re covered when they come to.”

Reynard acknowledged that with a nod, noticing that his own clothes and armor were neatly stacked on the table next to the bed. As the gator had already seen him naked, he didn’t ask or make comment as he got out from under the sheets and proceeded to dress. Once finished though, he stood indecisive, not knowing what he wanted to do.

“I’d recommend going home,” Carther prompted gently. “The first time usually gives one a lot to think about.”

“All right,” Reynard said, making his way to the door. He stopped again as he reached it and said, “Thanks,” before quickly opening the door and leaving. It was an experience he needed to think about, but even as he mulled over what just happened, and what he experienced, a little voice somewhere from his subconscious smugly told him that he would be back to the parlor before too long.