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Rated: XGC · Short Story · Adult · #1828603
Three graphic stories based on the fetishes of macrophilia and vorarephilia
Three Short Vore Stories

I - After the Nutcracker

Clara awakened from her dream, and walked to the window to watch the gently falling snow heap on the boughs of the trees, the sill of the window, and cover the ground in a blanket that in a few hours, when the clouds cleared and the moon shined, would sparkle in a magic beyond belief and description

Back downstairs she went, straight to the table where heaped on the platters, where were the desserts that so vividly came to life from her touch, to honor her in wonderful dance and story. The Mirlitons from Greece, the sugar plum fairy, the flowers, Chocolate from Spain, Tea from the Far East, Coffee from Arabia, Candy Canes from France; all were there.

“Could it have been so real?” She wondered. Standing guard on the table corner was her Nutcracker Prince. She had not slept with him because she was a little girl, and little girls didn’t do that. He had not slept with her because he was wooden, stiffly erect, and Gay. He was the first resident of the dessert table she touched.

As she picked him up, he transformed back into the young man of whom she dreamed. He dropped from her arms, and looked so sadly at her. Then he looked at the table of his companions, and hinted with a nod, that if Clara retained the power, she could bring back his principality once more, and had better hurry before the rest of her household awakened.

They would come down the stairs with empty rumbling stomachs, and his subjects would catch their eye.

Clara said, “its life, my dear sweet prince. The vast majority of life is created to be digested in superior, better life. Your friends are all destined for our stomachs. However, I will grant you, and them, your one great desire; to be alive, and sentient. Therefore when you find yourselves in our stomachs, bathed in the hot bubbles and foaming acids of our digestive juices, you can enjoy the squeezing massage of our rumbling stomachs, preparing you to become part of us.

Each of you will be consumed by us, to pass through us and be transformed through digestion, in us, to become part of us. Your passage through us will bring you closer and closer, with every minute, to that ultimate part of us that fuels your desire.”

Suddenly Clara didn’t look like such a little girl. In fact, she was a young woman, and through the silk of her gown, the voluptuous fat of her breasts spoke in visions. He nipples pointed through the fabric that outlined them, saying,. “She is ready to reproduce, and have a child, for us to feed.” She turned away, and the slip of her nighty caught the crack of her ass, revealing a curvature splitting a Wonderland that almost persuaded the Nutcracker prince. However, when she touched the two Russian marshmallows, they popped back to life, dressed in their leotard tights that wrapped around their flexing bubble butts and jiggling packages in the way that brought life to the Nutcracker prince as poor Clara never could.

This time it wasn’t the Christmas tree that grew into a monster. In the tight lycra spandex of his tights, the Nutcracker prince swelled into his namesake, until the outline of the biggest, thickest, hardest penis any girl ever imagined, was his most attractive and eye catching feature.

The Nutcracker prince walked to the dessert table, his penis so big and stiff, even the veins showed through his tights, and grabbed the two Russian marshmallows in tights, put one under each cheek of his ballet dancer’s ass, and sat on the table, crushing them under his powerful muscle.

He reached around and took hold of one of the French Candy Canes, which immediately transformed back into the young man in the colorful striped suit that entertained Clara with an acrobatic dance.

The Prince peeled the colorful clothes wrapping Mr. Cane, and put the naked happy young man on his tongue, to suck. You could see him melt in the saliva of his prince’s tongue.

He let go of the Cane and continued to suck him, his warm lips wrapped around Cane’s legs, sucking and savoring the flavor. You just knew both were enjoying it. The prince picked up a stick of Chocolate, and the stick transformed into the young Spanish dancer in brown tights with a large package.

Under his ass, the Russians were smashed, happy as the marshmallows they were. The prince scooted off the table, put down Chocolate, and in an unashamed moment, pulled down his tights to free his massive penis.

Clara watched with envy and sadness. How badly she wanted that penis to fuck her senseless, but sad she was, for it was his tiny little desserts, his tasty subjects, that fueled his erection.

The prince sat back down on his even happier Russian marshmallows, crushing them under the warm, bare skin of his muscular bubble butt. They began to melt from the heat and pressure, and while they wanted badly to become part of that great ass, there was only one way in, and the Frenchman was at the head of the line.

The prince lifted Chocolate and place him between his thighs, in front of his plump, wrinkled scrotum. His erect penis rose above Chocolate like a towering skyscraper. While he sucked the Frenchman in his mouth, bathing him with his saliva and swallowing the sweet flavor, he rubbed his penis with long strokes of masturbation.

What a breakfast this became!

Clara touched one of the Tea bags, which popped into the little Oriental girl everyone thought was so cute. The flame from the candle still licked the bottom of the water pot, on the tea stand, so Clara poured a warm bath in a cup, and placed Tea in it to steep. Tea felt herself dissolve in the warm water, which Clara sipped, watching her Nutcracker prince. She touched another Tea bag, which transformed into the young male partner who danced with Tea.

She put the cup of Tea down, sat down, and pulled up her gown to reveal a glorious pussy, covered with golden hair, with pink, glistening lips, and put Tea’s partner against them, rubbing her little clitoris with his body, to both of their delights.

His huge penis glistened with slippery precum that ran under his fingers, lubricating the loose skin covering his stiff organ. Some of it trickled down to the base, where it vanished in the crack between thighs and scrotum into parts unseen. Chocolate watched him masturbate with eager anticipation.

The Frenchman was softened in the prince’s mouth, until he was able to suck him in and out at will. When he was ready, he sucked Cane in, paused and swallowed, sending Cane down, down, down to his hungry stomach.

He felt Cane drop through the sphincter inside, and change the temperature of his stomach. The gastric pool gurgled as the prince’s stomach shifted to accept the Frenchman and begin digestion. Cane’s body laid in the gastric lake, which fizzed and foamed, and thick, sudsy bubbles of stomach acid ran down the wrinkled stomach walls and dripped on him. The little Frenchman was happy, and in the sour air, curled up and drifted off into a deep, sweaty sleep forever.

The sensation of the Frenchman filling his stomach produced a flood of endorphins in the prince’s bloodstream, that made his penis throb. His obvious excitement was transferred to the Russian marshmallows, crushed under his ass, as he squeezed his butt cheeks together in rhythmic flexes that pushed his penis higher above Chocolate, stabbing the cool morning air in hope of release. Inside his stomach, the sloshing of the gastric lake rocked the Frenchman, who was curled up like a lazy man in a hammock, feeling the warm bath tingle on his skin like no peel at a salon could ever touch.

Now he was ready. His stomach sloshing over the submissive Frenchman curled in a fetal sleep, the soft cushioned marshmallows under his flexing ass, and the stick of Chocolate standing before the throne of his scrotum, the king of penises erupted in a fountain of creamy ejaculate that shot high in the air, broke into pearly droplets of bittersweet salty flavor, and landed on Chocolate with a splash.

Clara watched, horny as a young Russian girl could be, put Tea’s companion in the cavern of her very wet vagina, and he quivered with vibrating delight to be in the fleshy cave of his dreams. She picked up the cup, gulped and swallowed Tea, who slid down her esophagus into her hungry stomach with a splash. Tea was happy to be in Clara’s stomach. Girl in girl, just like nature intended. As her companion quivered in her pussy, feeling Tea squirm in her stomach, she rubbed her clitoris and came.

The prince finished his ejaculation, covering sweet Chocolate with his salty cream. He picked up Chocolate and handed him to Clara, who immediately put him in her mouth, sucking off the prince’s cream, rolling Chocolate around and around in her mouth until he melted in dizziness, and she swallowed him.

Down, down, down he went, a little sad to be digested in a girl, but her stomach wasn’t much different from the Prince’s. When he dropped in, Tea was already being digested, and he was very happy to be in the center of the bubbles, as her hot stomach walls squeezed around and began to rub her acids to dissolve him.

The Prince shifted his weight and reached under his ass to pick up the crushed Russian Marshmallows. He popped one in his mouth, rolled him around, mixing him with his slippery saliva, then swallowed him whole. Then the other. The Frenchman was liquefied, and the Marshmallows floated in the sloshing gastric lake waiting their turn, as they listened to the already prepared parts of Cane spew into the Prince’s intestines for their glorious trip that would end in the ass of his dreams.

What an incredibly good breakfast! Clara stood up, letting her gown drop over her nakedness, with Tea’s companion as her little personal tampon, in case she started her period. The prince hopped off the table and rolled his tights back up over his fleshy bubble butt and flaccid package, which once again filled his tights with that special something for which Clara longed, but sadly could not arouse.

She said to the Prince, “Now that you know the secret, we will just keep all the rest of your subjects here, as they are, until we need and want them again.”

“I’m OK with that, “said the prince.

“Clomp clomp clomp clomp.” Down the stairs came Franz who ran to the dessert table, grabbed another stick of Chocolate, and began to devour it.

“Sad,” Thought Clara. “He won’t know what he is missing,” as she walked away, feeling Chocolate and Tea slosh and digest in her warm stomach.

“Sad,” thought the Prince. “He won’t know what he is missing,” as he walked away feeling the Marshmallow brothers and Cane slosh and digest in his warm stomach.


II - Carl's Bad Cavern

I never caved like this. My hands were inserted into the fissure through which I was about to squeeze my body for an exploration beyond my wildest imagination. Carl arched his back, raising his ass into the air, and the position caused the fissure to suddenly open in a whooshing gasp of air, revealing a dark hole through which I could wiggle. I reached up and turned on my headlamp, and took a series of deep breaths before I psyched up to squeeze through. The cave had a reputation for release of gases, in particular hydrogen sulfide and methane. I could smell residue of those gases wafting from the open fissure.

Temperature inside the cave was body-warm, 99F, and humidity was close to 100%. Because of the extreme warmth and other factors, I disrobed, and my only article of clothing was the elastic band of my headlamp.

I squeezed through, and felt the hard, fleshy walls of the entrance contract on my body, squeezing me hard, trying to tell me not to enter this cave. Inside the entrance tube, the passage opened up, glistening with mucus on the deep pink walls. Once I was fully inside, Carl, relaxed and the entrance closed. But for my headlamp, I would be in total darkness.

The tube was roomy enough to crawl in, and rose straight away for what seemed like a distance of ten or twelve feet. The floor, walls and ceiling were covered in little wiggling arteries that I could see pulsing with the surge from Carl’s blood. The passage was clean, as Carl assured me it would be.

I crawled up his rectum, which reacted with ripples of muscle that tried to sweep me down to his anus and squeeze me out of his body. I resisted, and made progress, deeper into his awesome body. I came to a corner where the tube turned sharply, and peered over the edge. The passage made several short twists and turns, and along side each turn were small pockets partly filled with a greenish brown sludge. I knew what that was, and by the odor of gas.

Then I came to a convoluted series of chambers that had a lot of clear, sticky mucus strands stretching from folds in the wall, up onto the ceiling. I tried to move carefully to avoid touching them, but was unable to totally do so. This portion of the tube rose at an angle, for what seemed like about fifteen feet, and appeared to dead end.

I found the mucus to be helpful, as it was very sticky. While it lubed my body, it also gripped me like glue, giving me some traction to crawl deeper into Carl’s colon. When I reached the dead end, I had to look around, and found a very low ceiling behind me, under which the passage continued. I braced myself, twisted around, and wedged through, moving carefully around the sharp corner. Nothing prepared me for the view I saw in that next section of his colon.

The deep pink muscle wall was totally covered in deep, greenish brown feces, and the gases, which I was now used to somewhat, made breathing difficult, as if I was caving in high altitude.

I had been through mud in caves before, but this was not something I looked forward to. However, if I wanted to explore deeper, I had to go through this.

The texture of his feces was very sticky, and I watched the colon walls ripple in little waves that tractioned the feces relentlessly toward the corner behind me. His transverse colon was divided into chambers, each completely covered in feces. In the third chamber, I saw some bones. Apparently his digestive system was not able to deal with bones of the animal he ate, other than move them along for eventual defecation. I felt a little sorry for the animal.

I picked up one of the bones, and examined it. The bone looked familiar, but I could not place what kind of animal it came from. I looked closely, and found no teeth marks. Did Carl swallow this animal in big chunks? He was capable of that, I wondered?

In the next chamber, a bone mass gripped me with fear for the first time. Embedded in a sludge of feces, half buried, was part of a rib cage. It looked very familiar too, and showed no sign of chewing, and was apparently swallowed whole. There was no sign of any meat or tissue on the bone, and while the ligaments were gone, there were still some tendons connecting the bones together. I felt more sorry for the animal, but thoughts of it being dumped into Carl’s stomach as his food were a little erotic.

I crawled through two more feces-encrusted chambers, and came to another sharp bend, where his ascending colon plunged. This would be close to the terminal chamber for my exploration. I hoped to be able to at least look into his ileocaecal valve, and see a little way into his small intestine. However, two things persuaded me not to try.

When I wiggled around that sharp bend, I saw the entire colon in front of me was filled with feces, and I did not want to crawl through that. However, embedded in the top of the mass, was the skull of the animal Carl ate. At last I would be able to make a positive identification.

I scraped away the sticky feces and reached into the empty brain cavity with my fingers, and pulled on the skull. It made a sickening sucking sound, and left a socket impression in the solidifying feces.

"Alas, poor Yorick. I knew him well," I said, gazing into the empty eye sockets.

Why a Shakespeare line popped into my head was perhaps an effort in denial, for the skull was clearly human. I knew why the bones looked familiar. Carl had eaten someone. I could not conceive of a man rippled down that monster esophagus, to drop into the stomach of another man, as his food. I realized these feces were the byproduct of Carl’s digestion of this unfortunate man, who found himself swallowed as a meal. Could Carl have swallowed him alive, I wondered?

I laid in Carl’s colon, thinking about this, not paying attention to the hidden movement of his colon wall. Suddenly I realized that smooth peristalsis waves were carrying me backward, across his transverse colon. I decided to turn around, and begin the crawl out.

Once I turned around, to my horror, I discovered the sludge of feces around the rib cage and other bones, through which I crawled, filled his colon, and blocked my exit. While I laid there thinking about what to do, I felt warmth on my legs, and looked down to see the mass of feces where the skull was, being moved in a sludge around my legs. The sticky, glue-like quality of the mucus pinned my legs, and I began to slide with the mass, toward the blockage I was reluctant to touch, let alone try and penetrate. I was trapped in Carl’s feces, and now had to wait for the movement of his colon to carry me to freedom and safety. I was going to be defecated alive, in the remains of another man Carl had eaten, and mercilessly digested!

Carl was up and moving around now, although I could not feel it, except for the occasional squeeze when he flexed his belly. The movement of the feces was very slow, and I had three, maybe four hours of light on these batteries. There was nothing to see, so I decided to switch off my headlamp, and just wait for Carl to shit.

Sometime later, I became aware of a different, rhythmic squeeze, compacting the feces around me. I was used to the smell, and the texture, and it was warm in there. Shock waves that felt strangely erotic and powerful reverberated through my body. What was Carl doing? Man, it felt good!

The texture of the feces around me became more solid, as his colon did its job of extraction and absorption of water, dehydrating the feces into a semisolid package for convenient disposal. I was tired, and the shortage of oxygen made me sleepy, but I didn’t want to sleep, only to suddenly wake up struggling in a pool of cold water, or worse, being flushed down his toilet.

After what seemed like an eternal wait, I felt the feces compressed around me, and sensed some movement. I switched on my headlamp, and saw the pink muscle walls rippling and flexing. The hiss and squeaks of the sticky mucus along the smooth mucosa told me I was in Carl’s rectum, and so defecation was eminent.

I felt sorry for the dude in whose remains I was stuck. Carl digested him, and his lifeless bones didn’t know, or care what was happening. Suddenly the part of the turd ahead of me cracked, and began to break off. I saw daylight and realized I was at that moment, passing through Carl’s anus. I felt the pressure of his rectal walls squeezing the feces against me, then suddenly release as the mass and I were pushed through his anus.

Carl's big penis dibbled urine, and his scrotum looked plump and sexy in its wrinkles.

The air of the toilet bowl smelled strangely sweet- no doubt to my hours of trapped confinement in the gaseous, stick mass of whom ever Carl digested. I wondered if it was a man or woman, and if they had a name. I doubt Carl knew. People don’t generally ask their food, “what is your name,” before swallowing them. These were different times anyway, with different theories about whether people like Carl were a race of giants, or that we were a race of tinies that coexisted with them.

The feces in which I was trapped slid quickly from Carl’s butt, and dropped into the cold water. I braced for the shock, used to the 99F temperature in Carl’s lower digestive system, As soon as the turd his the water, The impact loosened the nodules trapping my legs, and I was able to break free. His turd was a floater, so I climbed up on top of it, and rode it like a log.

When Carl rose to wipe, I shouted at him before he dropped the soiled paper. He looked at me, blinking, smiled, and said, “So there you are, dude! I thought maybe you died in me, and I wasn’t gonna see you again. How was it?”

He lifted me out of the toilet bowl, and showered me in the sink, while I told him what I saw. He cleaned himself and flushed the toilet. I asked him what he was doing an hour or so ago- not really sure of the exact time.

"Oh, that. I met a hot date, and we hit it off right away, so we fucked." No wonder it felt so good and erotic. The thought of me inside Carl's hot ass, rising up and down in the physical act of reproduction, feeling his slamming bump and grind, while he delivered his semen into that lucky lover's body gave me an instant hard-on. I looked at Carl, admiring his hot bubble butt, wishing I could be him, or part of him. He was one of those lucky guys with a big penis, and he could fuck just about anyone he wanted.

“Who was that poor bastard you ate?” I asked Carl.

“Oh, I don’t know really. Some guy.”

“Why did you eat him?”

"It helps my libido," said Carl. "Some guys like him are born to be food for guys like me, and guys like me are born to fuck as much as possible, and to keep up that strength, we have to digest guys like him."

I wondered how many guys he'd eaten and digested. Carl turned around, facing me, and had a huge erection. He turned off the water, and laid his dick over the counter into the sink, aiming it at me, and began to masturbate.

"My diet of little guys increases my sexual performance, and my semen production, so they're a regular part of my diet now."

He leaned against the cabinet, grinding with his pelvis much like I felt from inside his ass. His huge hand slid back and forth over the huge, hard, vein-wrapped penis, until his precum bubbled, then dribbled into the sink basin. His other hand tweaked his man nipples, and the sight of watching this giant please himself made me so hard, it hurt. We circle jerked together.

In a few minutes, his hand and penis glistened from slurping precum. He began to grunt, and gyrate his pelvis, and then in a deep, primeval, sexual grunt, crested with orgasm, ejaculating a stream of cum that sailed over my head, and splattered on the faucet spout. I stepped aside while a gooey translucent drop dripped off, in a cum shower and splattered at my feet. Another jet of cum hit my chest and knocked me off balance, so I fell against the sink bowl. Carl moved his penis close to me, nuzzling me with the soft head of his penis, and shot several more cum streams, covering my little body. I never saw anyone produce so much cum! He wiped his hot, sticky cum ove4r my body with the head of his penis.

I felt sorry for the little dude whose digested remains I discovered in Carl's colon though. I wondered if the warm, salty cum stuck to me, pooled around where I sat, was made from his nutrients.

I should have thought more carefully when I told Carl I would have to write a report about my experience for the NSS News, and I didn’t believe the idea of his digestion of us to increase his sexual performance would be met with sympathy. We weren't  born to be food, and especially digested by some hung guy, just so he could fuck more. I expressed my concern to Carl.

Carl said, “I was afraid you might say that, so, sorry dude, I can’t let you do that.”

He picked me up, sucked me into his mouth, rolled me around on his tongue a few times, coating me with saliva, then easily and effortlessly swallowed me whole. I struggled, but my efforts were totally in vain.

Before I was carried down his esophagus, I reached up and switched on my headlamp. I still had light, and the light reflected from the glistening pink wall of his esophagus. I came to the cardia sphincter, and his stomach opened below me, a vast, deep red chamber, the wrinkled ruggae of the floor submerged in a foot of clear fluid, probably water. I hoped it was water.

I slid down the curved wall, indicating to me Carl was lying down, and came to rest in the pool of warm water. His stomach floor rose above me, in a slowly moving ripple of peristalsis that reminded me of a street roller smoothing out new asphalt. I sat up and watched his huge stomach roll in the gigantic wave down to the far end. Not too far in front of me was a large whitish mass stuck to his stomach floor, covered in foaming bubbles. I crawled to have a closer look, and saw it was a section of human ribs and meat that jiggled like white gelatin, or milk curd, breaking apart in the hot digestive juices. Some other dude whom Carl swallowed earlier, wasn’t completely digested, and I was looking at him, seeing my own fate in a few hours. His stomach floor had several more lumps of digested meat stuck to it, covered in bubbles and acid, almost ready for the next part of the trip.

I was more fascinated than afraid, even though I knew my time was limited.

Carl’s stomach wall began to roll in a gigantic ripple of squeezing of muscle, and the bubbly lumps of almost-liquefied meat rolled over the crest like surfers on a giant swell. The ring squeezed together around the angulus corner, and digestive juice squirted back toward me, gurgling with the sound of active digestion in progress. Carl’s stomach chamber knotted in a pink rose, from which bubbles oozed, and squirted the little piece of food into his intestine for absorption. When the stomach chamber opened back up, the lowermost white lump of digested meat and bubbles was gone- sent on its roller coaster ride down Carl’s small intestine, to nourish his giant body.

I knew what that guy would be and look like in a few hours. I saw it first hand, on the other side, exploring Carl's bad cavern. I was destined for it too.
I shuddered at the thought, remembering what Carl's digestive system did to that dude.

I reflected back on when Carl shit me. While he slowly squeezed the turd, I remembered looking up at his wrinkled balls, and big, hung dick, and thought about all the pleasure they brought Carl when he fucked. I thought about the poor guys like the poor dude he digested, and me, whose destiny it was to service the sexual function of a bigger penis. Carl took everything. The dude's bones were the only thing Carl didn’t take. I wondered if anyone would feel sorry for me.

I knew I didn’t have much time, and so decided to have one last orgasm. I closed my eyes and thought about where I was. I listened to the gurgles of the bubbles, felt the flexing stomach wall, felt the surge of blood through the arteries in the stomach wall, in concert with the thunder of Carl's heart. I heard his intestines squirting the dude's digested meat through its loops and coils. I dreamed about my body becoming nutrients that would eventually be part of Carl, as his big muscles, and maybe his semen, and easily aroused myself. I opened my eyes briefly, just before I came, to see my lamp finally losing its electricity, dimly lighting the glistening stomach wall. My semen shot onto Carl’s stomach wall, and vanished in the glistening wetness.

I laid back, resigned to being Carl’s food, sleepy, and warm, feeling the steamroll of Carl’s stomach covering me with digestive acid, juices and enzymes. What more could I do?


III - Dark's Sacrifice


“Are you ready?”

“All systems are go!”

Doug Dark was the first person to undergo both SRE and Dimensional Shift, reducing him to a height of 0.44 inches, with a weight of 0.72 grams. His mission was to test the new Endoscopy Sub Capsule, built by British Endoscopy Systems Telecom (BEST).

The company buddies just watched hometown hero JP win the Hudson Valley Big Stuff award, with uninterrupted consumption of the biggest breakfast ever served one man at Denny’s. The restaurant management wanted to rethink the unending pancake offer, since JP ate twenty two pancakes, nine eggs, nine pieces of bacon, two bowls of grits, and a side of hash browns, downed with two glasses of orange juice and two cups of coffee. JP was the new national leading contender for the Denny’s Big Boy prize of one million dollars.

Embedded in the last bite of pancakes was the prototype Endoscopy Sub Capsule -1, piloted by Dark, the company man whole volunteered for the mission. JP’s belly already bulged from the pressure of his huge meal, and little pops and gurgles indicated digestion already commenced.

The first test Dark faced, were JP’s grinding molars. The steerable glass capsule, which allowed a 360 degree panoramic view had to be maneuvered carefully. While JP chewed the pancake, Dark found a channel between his tongue and lower gum, where the flexing muscular action and angle directed the capsule toward the dark recess where JP swallowed. JP felt the capsule move down, but was too slow to bring it back up into his mouth with his tongue, and quickly caught his breath and swallowed.

Dark turned on the nose light, turned on the camera and shut down the motor to reserve energy. The transmission of the imagery to the control room was successful, and cheers erupted from the control room as the team saw the ripple shadow of JP’s esophagus, carry the ESC into the man’s stomach.

JP and his buddies sat in the Denny’s booth, unaware of the new science happening inside the warm body of their overstuffed friend.

“I never ate so much in my life!” said JP. Indeed his belly expanded, so sliding out of the booth was an effort, and even with his back against the boothback, his hairy, bearish belly rubbed the edge of the table. As he stood up, one of his buds patted his belly and joked, “When is it due?”

JP smacked the teaser on the side of the head and laughed.

“What do you see?” asked Control.

“Not much,” replied Dark. “There is nothing but chewed mush in here. Visibility is virtually zero.” He switched on the motor and began to pilot the capsule through the slimy, sticky mass of digesting food. When the capsule reached the stomach wall, the deep pink color was the first change of scenery Dark and the camera saw. Suddenly the stomach wall surged toward Dark and bumped the capsule. A huge, slow, rolling wave of stomach muscle pushed the capsule down through the liquefying mush in front of the wave.

“Where am I?” radioed Dark.

“Position?”

The transmitter secured to the backside of JP’s belt buckle switched on, and through echolocation, estimated the capsule was being swept by a peristaltic wave near the deepest point in JP’s stomach.

“You’re in the pit, Dark. Probably the safest place to be for now.”

Control was anxious to have a better view, but there was none to be had in the worker’s overstretched, overstuffed stomach. So Dark just had to wait. He nudged the tail back into a ruggae fold, anchored the air line to an artery, and switched off the motor to save the battery. Approximately twice a minute, JP’s stomach wall flexed in a mechanical roll that mixed the breakfast food with digestive juices, stomach acid, and enzymes that dissolved the mush, and made parts of the stomach contents more transparent.

An hour later, Dark switched on the motor, and followed the stomach wall until the capsule surfaced. JPs stomach was a third empty, indicating of course, that some of the meal was digested and squirted into the small intestine for absorption. Dark cleaned the nose port camera, and filmed the churning peristalsis as JP’s stomach contracted in is relentless digestion of the huge breakfast.

Control was interested because this was the first capsule endoscopy of a full stomach actually digesting a meal, where the capsule was under human control, and thus able to locate and record events of special interest, and in particular, those scientists in the control room wanted to see.

Dark turned the capsule nose down, and dived along the great curvature wall, into the pit and around the angulus, into the antrum, where they chyme was more liquefied and transparent. When the wave of JP’s stomach muscle bumped the capsule, Dark switched off the motor, letting the wave of stomach muscle propel the capsule. Ahead was the pylorus, and the capsule moved toward it without problem. The bottom of the capsule hung up on the pyloric lip momentarily, and Dark was concerned the sphincter might snap closed, trap the capsule, and hurl it back into the stomach as undigested material, possibly damaging it. Dark rocked and rolled his body side to side, and gently eased the capsule over the lip, and made history as the first living man to see the inside of a living man's duodenum.

The churning of the stomach had nothing on this. The ESC was squeezed by irregular rings of folding muscle that moved it down the tube, with a crystal clear view of the muscular action. Dark watched the papillae vater squirt gall and bile onto the ESC, as it did with all food, to neutralize the stomach acid and further break down fat and carbohydrate. The ESC rounded the bend, and the view into the first part of the jejunum brought silence to the room. This was something no man had ever seen, and the few endoscopic images from this area were always blurred and compromised. Billions upon billions of translucent villi reached out into a dark, liquid void, where clouds of nutrient molecules drifted by. The villi sucked in every molecule of digested nutrient. Behind the villi, the pink intestinal muscle flexed in squeezing ripples that propelled Dark and the ESC into the deep, twisting coils of JP’s small intestine. This was the gateway to JP’s body, and fuel supply for everything.

Any kind of vore a vorarephile could want, was possible here. End up in a finger, a foot, an ear lobe, the heart, the spongy part of the dude’s penis… all was accessed from this portal of JP’s intestine, and Dark was the first living man ever to see it, and watch the process of absorption. The nutrient molecules suspended in the liquid sparkled like snowflakes, and a, occasional blizzard of them obscured the view. But the translucent villi always, relentlessly probed the cloud, and right before Dark’s eyes, in crystal clear visibility on the camera, the cloud of molecules dissipated into the probing villi forest, restoring transparency to the scene.

As fascinating to watch as this was, it became monotonous after while, because of the sheer length of JP's small intestine. Transition from jejunum to ileum was barely noticeable- only a reduction of villi density was visible. After ninety minutes, the nose of the capsule was sucked into a tight sphincter, where it was squeezed and stuck.

The capsule was roughage, and during the trip through the small intestine, sticky mucus collected on the back half, Dark watched as around him, a fountain spray of yellowish water spewed through the sphincter, on each side of the capsule. The erosive force of the liquid seemed to reduce the mucus ball, and with a bubbly gurgle, the capsule broke through and was fired across the large caecal chamber of JP’s colon, where it stuck to the sticky mucus on the far wall.

Dark switched on the motor, but the thick, gloppy mucus seized the motor. The capsule was stuck. The Control team and Dark verified that his mission would last at least another twelve to eighteen hours, before JP defecated, and Dark, the capsule, and tangible data could be recovered. Dark switched off the motor, and turned on the tail camera, transiting both forward and hind views from the ESC.

At 24:17, the capsule, entirely engulfed in feces, slowly passed from JP's anus into the toilet, and was recovered by the Control team. JP took his morning dump in company restroom A-3, and the flush was routed to control, where a scatologist dissected the feces, taking samples for study, and recovering the ESC.

When they pulled the halves of ESC-1 apart, Dark stepped out to claps and cheers in the Control Room, as the first living person ever to watch and record the entire digestive process inside a living man.

The Control Team met the next day, to review findings, and learned that samples taken during the trip were inconclusive. Dark was asked if he would pilot a second mission.

“Will it be in JP again?” Dark asked.

“Affirmative.”

When approached with an offer to break the HVBS record a month later, JP pulled up his shirt, jiggled the soft bellyfat around his navel, and said, “It took me a month to get rid of that meal- look!” However when told that a man in California just broke the DBB record, and was front runner for the million dollar first prize, JP could not let that go.

June 10, 2009, JP broke the record, eating 29 pancakes in one sitting, and just as before, Dark expertly piloted the ESC-1 into JP’s stomach. A second, ESC-2, piloted by Rick Steppin, followed, to collect more samples, as well as provide footage of the intestinal action around ESC-1.

Things went smoothly, until ESC-1 was hung up in an unknown fiber bezoar mass in JP’s stomach. Dark’s efforts to free the capsule were unsuccessful, and he faced remaining in JP’s stomach until his air and food supply ran out.

“You guys aren’t thinking!” he said to Control. “I’m in JP’s stomach- I can live in here indefinitely, with an endless food supply. What ever he eats, I can eat.” Thought of eating another man’s already chewed food, swallowed and sent to digestion didn’t seem appealing to Control, and something above and beyond the call of duty. But then Dark was a different kind of guy- never at a loss, and a survivor extraordinaire.

He and Steppin worked to rig up the oxygen filter, to be screwed into the wall of JP’s stomach, where oxygen could be extracted from his arterial blood until an alternative plan could be approved. “You will be the first actual human parasite to live inside another man!” said Steppin.

However the bezoar was loose and JP’s stomach movement shifted so the filter line snapped, cutting off Dark’s oxygen supply. In that time, JP already digested his Denny’s breakfast, which was gurgling down his small intestines, turning into shit.

“Ram me!” said Dark.

“What?”

“Ram me. Break this seal so I can get out.”

“But you’ll never make it. You will be digested!”

‘I don’t think so. I am sure I can get out in time.”

Control intervened. "We don't think ramming ESC-1 is advisable, ESC-2" they said. Another hour passed, and Steppin knew that both ESC-1 and 2 could not indefinitely remain in JP's stomach. He felt it was urgent to try a rescue before JP ate another meal.

Steppin powered up his motor, and powered through the clear, yellowish gastric lake toward ESC-1, careful to avoid entanglement in the bezoar mass. Steppin struck ESC-1 broadside and the seal was cracked. Dark took the front camera and pounded the cracked hull, until a large chunk snapped off. As gastric juice poured into the capsule, he wiggled through the hole, and was free.

Meanwhile Control had another plan, but when communication was lost with Dark, Steppin was ordered to secure a line to the bezoar and ESC-1, and haul it to the pylorus. Measurement of the mass indicated it would fit through JP’s small intestine, if ESC-2 had power to reach the pylorus.

Steppin maneuvered the tail of ESC-2 around to snag the line meant for oxygen retrieval secured by ESC-1, and powered the motor. The relatively thin gastric juice provided no resistance to ESC-2, which towed the bezoar toward the antrum and pylorus.

Dark, however, underestimated the effect of JP’s stomach acid, and before he reached the other side of the gastric lake, the fizzing acid took its toll and paralyzed, and numbed him. When Steppin had everything ready, and powered across the gastric lake, he saw the foaming mass on the opposite side, and realized it was Dark. When he got there, all that remained was jiggly gelatinous semi-liquid and Dark's stripped skeleton. JP’s stomach sensing the protein and fat in the mass, rippled in a peristaltic wave that swept Dark, ESC-2 and the bezoar up to the pylorus, and over the lip into the duodenum.

Steppin was the second living person to make the trip through JP’s small intestine, but Dark miscalculated his own resistance. His nutrients were the swirling molecules of human nutrient snow in the clouds around ESC-2, and Steppin’s camera recorded Dark's absorption into the velvety villi lining JP’s intestinal wall. Steppin was the first living witness of the digestion and absorption of a living man. However actually watching his friend transformed before his eyes, from living flesh, bone and blood, to dead. stinking, rotting feces was hard to take.

At 24:02 of the mission, JP headed for B-4, where the alert Control Room stood by to divert the flush, seize the feces, and recover ESC-2.

The scatologist scraped away at the sticky feces until he found the nose of ESC-2 buried deep inside. The capsule was opened, and Rick Steppin emerged as the only living man to have successfully witnessed the entire digestive process and system in another man, as well as recorded the absorption of Dark, who was now part of the jiggling bellyfat JP would try and lose over the summer.

It was late November, JP, still leading contender for the DBB Prize, and the guys sat in the booth at Denny’s eating breakfast, when Jason said, “Anybody know what happened to Doug Dark?” JP leaned back, stretched out, scratched his belly, and chuckled. “I remember him. Quiet young man… I liked him. Anybody know where he went?”

“Want another pancake?” asked Jason. “Don’t mind if I do.” Jay said, “I miss Doug.” JP’s belly began to itch again, and he scratched to satisfy it. JP buttered his pancake and poured the thick maple syrup over it. He looked at Jody and asked, “Did you know Doug?”

“Damn itch!” said JP, as he quickly put the bite of pancake in his mouth, his fork down, and stretched to dig at the itch on his belly.

Jody watched JP with growing amusement, and said, “If I didn’t know better, I’d say you have an itch for Doug!” JP reached over and whacked Jody on the head, and said, “you know better than that! Just coincidence, dude! Doug was my friend.”

"If you win the DBB prize, maybe you can hire me to scratch your belly!"

"Get outta here!" said JP. "Doug is the only guy I'd let scratch my belly, and he ain't here....

“Damn!”

The itch on JP’s bellyfat just would not go away. “Gotta be something in this shirt! Maybe some lint or something.”

Nobody in the group gave it another thought, except for Rick Steppin. He knew, but could say nothing. None of the gang was ever to know about the marvelous adventure of ESC-1 and ESC-2, the first and only video recovery of its kind, the successful removal of the gastric bezoar from JP’s stomach, or the sacrifice made by Doug Dark. Mention of Doug and the itch on JP’s belly wasn’t coincidence as far as Steppin was concerned.
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