Vore Girls Captor Club

A group of college girls were gathered in the bedroom of twenty-year-old Wendy Watson as marijuana joints were being passed around. A time traveler from the 21st century journeying forward in time to the year 2143 would be astonished to find a society where marijuana had been legalized, but tobacco in any form was illegal.

Wendy took a hit and passed it to Victoria Jansen, a green-eyed redhead. When Victoria took her hit, she passed the joint to Marina Morales, the only Latina in the group. Marina was burly, with light brown hair. A lot of the men at their junior college seemed to prefer Marina’s tan, muscular frame to the bodies of some of the skinnier girls.

While the first joint was being passed around, a second joint was passed from the hand of Pallas Hyperion to Britney Bonham. Gray-eyed Pallas, whose middle name was Athena, had Greek ancestry. Britney was blonde, with blue eyes. When Britney took her hit, she passed the joint to Cassie Klein, another blue-eyed blonde. Eighteen-year-old Rachel Stryker, the youngest of these college girls, was the last in line to take a hit.

“Rachel,” Wendy asked, “who are the most popular girls at our junior college?”

“That’s easy! Everyone in this room, except me!”

“And do you know why we’re so popular?”

“Because you’re the prettiest girls at our school, and the guys worship you.”

“That’s part of it,” Wendy replied, “but have you ever heard of the Vore Girls captor club?”

“Yeah! They hunt down creeps and weirdos!”

“What else do you know about that club?” Wendy asked.

“I don’t know, I guess it’s really more of a gang than a club, and it’s a secret society, like the Freemasons. What does the ‘vore’ in Vore Girls stand for, anyway? Isn’t it an acronym?”

“It stands for Voracious Organized Recidivist Eliminators,” said Wendy. “We’re all members of Vore Girls! Me, Victoria, Pallas, Marina, Britney, and Cassie!”

Rachel took a hit off her joint, passed it, and held in her hit as she pondered what Wendy was telling her. “Really? All of you are members of the Vore Girls gang?”

“That’s right!” Wendy answered. “We’re the senior members of the San Luis Obispo chapter of the Vore Girls captor club. Victoria’s older sister Nikki is a member of the Morro Bay chapter of the club. We’re thinking of making you a member of our chapter! That’s why we invited you over here to my house today. The only question remaining is whether or not you have the guts to go through with the initiation.”

“Sure I do,” said Rachel. “But why did you guys pick me?”

"Let me put it this way,” said Wendy. “You’re hotter than a couple of us, and equally as hot as the rest of us. We don’t like the competition. It would be a lot easier dealing with school politics if you were one of us.”

“Tell me what I have to do! What’s the initiation ritual?”

“The initiation ritual was created by the founder of the original chapter of this gang, Emily Jordan. You have to find the address of a convicted child molester, have one of us drive you over there, and you have to shrink the pervert and swallow him while Victoria gets it on camera!”

“Why can’t I have a car drive me there, under computer autopilot?”

“Because,” Wendy replied, “any time you use autopilot, the entire journey is recorded and transmitted to the DMV database. When the police investigate the abduction, that’s the first place they’ll check! If one of us drives you over there, the police will never find out.”

“I guess I could do that,” said Rachel, “but that sounds kind of weird! I mean, it would be kind of cool to swallow someone, but what’s it like?”

“You mean you’ve never swallowed someone who was shrunk?” Victoria asked.

“No, I never had the chance,” said Rachel.

“It’s crazy!” said Victoria. “If you set the sizing scope to just the right ratio, you can actually feel them squirming around in your gut, like a goldfish or something!

Pallas looked at Wendy and said, “Wendy, you’re forgetting something! The first part of the initiation ritual!”

“That’s right!” said Wendy. “Rachel, before you can score a captive, you have to accurately explain the theory of miniaturization in your own words!”

“We all have to know it,” said Marina. “Every member of Vore Girls must have a working knowledge of neutrino dissimilation.”

“Well,” said Rachel, “I know that neutrino dissimilation refers to matter in the form of neutrino particles being stripped from the quarks and gluons that compose the protons and neutrons of atoms. The electrons are an elementary particle, and neutrinos are extracted from them, too. That causes atoms to decrease in size, weight, volume, and mass.”

“Everybody knows that part,” said Wendy. “What is the phenomenon that causes atoms to maintain the same proportionate distance apart from each other relative to their distance apart at normal size?”

As Rachel strove to come up with the answer to Wendy’s question, the other girls knew that they couldn’t assist her in any way. Rachel turned the problem over in her mind; she had watched a documentary on neutrino dissimilation with her parents several years earlier, so she knew the answer was hidden somewhere in her brain. After struggling for close to a minute, Rachel was able to figure it out.

“Electrons all have a negative charge, and since opposite charges attract and like charges repel, electrons repel each other! That’s the force that keeps something like a table solid. An atom stays locked into position because the electrons of the surrounding atoms act on its electrons, keeping that atom in the same position! Same thing with the protons, their repulsive force acts on one another, keeping atoms a certain distance apart.”

“You’re on the right track!” said Wendy.

“When you shrink electrons down at the same rate as the nucleus, the force of the charge of the electrons diminishes, causing the miniaturized atoms to move closer together, so they maintain the same proportionate distance apart from each other as they did at normal size. Same thing with the protons, as they decrease in size, their repulsive force diminishes, so the atoms move closer together.”

Everyone in the room clapped for Rachel. “You did it!” said Wendy. “You passed the verbal part of the initiation process. Now you have to find a perv, shrink him, and swallow him. Do you have a Portasizer?”

Rachel had a hand held miniaturization device in her purse, but it wasn’t manufactured by the Portasizer corporation. Rachel pulled it out as the other girls all displayed their shrink ray-guns.

“It’s a Downsizer!” said Rachel sheepishly. “My parents own stock in that corporation. I didn’t realize that Portasizers were ‘in’ and Downsizers weren’t.”

“It’s traditional that club members use Portasizers to acquire victims,” said Wendy. “I can’t explain why, I only know that it was important to Emily Jordan, the founder of the original chapter of this captor club. Here, you can use mine. I’ll turn off the chromosome lock so you’ll be able to use it.”

Wendy used a voice command to disable the function that caused her Portasizer to only function when it detected her unique chromosome pattern, and handed it to Rachel. Then she eyed Victoria, and gave her a signal by the use of her facial expression. Victoria responded by getting out her cell phone.

“So,” said Victoria, “should I give you a ride?”

“Yes!” said Rachel. “I’ve always dreamed of being a member of the Vore Girls, so I’m not going to pass up my only chance!”

While they got ready to leave, Rachel got on Wendy’s home computer, and searched the Megan’s Law database for a suitable victim. Rachel was able to narrow it down to three people, and printed out the names and addresses. Only Victoria went with Rachel to acquire the victim.

When Victoria and Rachel went outside, they entered the garage through a side door and got in the car. Rachel sat in the passenger seat next to Victoria. Victoria stuck her index finger into a fingerprint identification pad on the steering column, and a stealth control console that had been hidden popped out below the dashboard. Victoria flipped one of a series of switches that were on the console. Rachel observed this and asked, “What are you doing?”

“It’s a holographic cloaking device,” said Victoria. “It makes this car look purple to satellite cameras, and these switches,” Victoria flipped two more switches on the stealth control console, “give off a false transponder signal, and a fake license plate slides in front of the real one! Also, the cloaking device transmits a distortion field two meters above the roof of my hovercar, so anyone standing within twenty meters of the car will appear too blurry to identify by satellite cameras!”

“That’s why the hovercar was parked in the garage,” said Victoria, “so satellites won’t photograph the car turning from yellow to purple!”

“Won’t the government know the fake license plate doesn’t match any known vehicles?” Rachel asked.

“It does match a known vehicle,” said Victoria. “An old Chinese guy who owns a mini-mart on the other side of town has a purple hovercar with the same license plate and transponder signal as my fake ones. Today is his day off, and that’s why we chose today to perform the initiation. His car is parked in his garage right now!”

“The only way we could get caught is if we were driving this car with the cloaking device on while Cheng Lee was out driving his car!”

“Cheng Lee?” Rachel asked.

“He’s the guy who owns the hovercar that my car is imitating,” said Victoria.

“What happens if he gets charged with crimes that you committed?” Rachel asked.

“Oh, it’s okay,” said Victoria, “Cheng Lee is an ex-convict. I would never do that to an innocent person! So have you narrowed down a good potential victim?”

“I think the first address we should check out is a guy named Gene,” said Rachel. “His crimes aren’t any worse than the other two guys, but his house is the closest.” Rachel handed the printout to Victoria, who looked over the address of the pervert Rachel had mentioned.

Victoria got out of the car and activated the control panel that opened the garage door, and got back in and closed the car door. As the hovercar pulled out onto the driveway and ascended into the air, it occurred to Rachel that only extremely wealthy people owned flying cars. “How could you afford a hovercar?”

“I joined Vore Girls when I was eighteen,” said Victoria. “I’m twenty now, and over the past two years, I’ve learned to loot the homes of my victims. I use neutrino transfer to re-enlarge their bank cards, and I torture them if they don’t cough up the password. I’ve probably swallowed about two hundred victims, and over half of them had a lot of cash and jewelry.”

“What about the Internal Revenue Service?” Rachel asked.

“I claim the cash I take from my victims as poker winnings on my I.R.S. forms, so I actually pay taxes on my so-called winnings! Funny thing, though; I can’t even remember the last time I even played poker!”

At this, the two girls started laughing. Soon they arrived at the pervert’s house, and Victoria landed the hovercar. Rachel got out and went to the front door and rang the doorbell. There was a monitor and a camera built into the exterior wall of the house, next to the door. A man’s face appeared on the monitor.

“Hello?” he said.

Rachel could clearly see the face of the perv, and he could clearly see hers. From the position of the camera, he had a clear shot from Rachel’s long brown hair and green eyes all the way down to her sparkling pink mid-calf boots. She was wearing an ultra-short miniskirt, a suggestion made by Victoria when Rachel had first been invited over earlier that day. Although Rachel had a fantastic pair of legs, she wasn’t in the habit of consciously showing them off. Victoria had gone to Rachel’s house and had personally picked out Rachel’s wardrobe, instructing Rachel to dress slutty. Rachel had thought Victoria was asking her to dress according to what was considered fashionable to Wendy and her popular friends, but now she realized there was a practical reason for dressing in an ultra-short miniskirt and a purple tank top that showed off her belly button.

“I’m here for the college fund charity,” Rachel said into the intercom, “and I’ll do a strip-tease for you if you agree to give a generous donation!”

The man’s face lit up, and he disappeared from the monitor, and opened the door a moment later. He was practically salivating. “I’ve got a lot of money saved up! If I give you a big tip, do I get something extra?”

Rachel smiled, in spite of the inner disgust she felt toward this pervert. He was an old man, overweight with white hair. Even if Rachel was the kind of girl who would be willing to give something “extra,” there wasn’t a chance in hell that she would give it to this man.

“That depends,” Rachel replied as she tilted her hips so he couldn’t see the portable neutrino dissimilator concealed near her spine. “How big a tip are you talking about?” Rachel flexed her thigh muscles to show off her beautiful legs to full effect.

“The safe’s over here!” the perv answered as he ushered Rachel inside the living room and closed the front door behind her. He led her to his bedroom, and opened a closet door. There, on a dresser in the closet, was a safe about two feet high and the same distance wide. A digital display stood above 36 buttons, the combination of which even a computer expert from the Pentagon would’ve had trouble hacking into.

When the perv opened the safe, there were dozens of stacks of fifty and one hundred dollar bills. The perv grabbed one of these stacks, and began counting off several singles of fifty dollar bills, when he heard Rachel’s voice from behind him.

“Don’t even bother!”

He turned around to see Rachel pointing a neutrino dissimilator pistol at him with the symbol of the Portasizer corporation stamped on the barrel of the gun.

“Wait a minute!” he shouted. At that instant, it was never clear whether he was about to pounce on Rachel or try to flee, because he was instantly miniaturized when Rachel pulled the trigger. Rachel had punched a ratio of 1/40 into the sizing scope of the Portasizer, which reduced him to one fortieth of his normal size. He had been about six feet tall, so he had been reduced to about one and four-fifths of an inch tall, which was a good swallowing size for predators who wanted to feel their prey squirming around inside them.

Rachel collected her captive, and put the cash in a pillow case she grabbed from the bed. When she opened the front door of the house, Victoria got out of the car and ran inside the house. She went straight to the home security console, and removed the disks.

“Your face is recorded in the memory of the hard drive,” said Victoria as she pulled out a portable laser pistol. She went to the back, where the C.P.U. was located, and fired the pistol several times. Smoke drifted from the ruined console as Victoria ushered Rachel out of the house, and they got back in the hovercar and took off.

Victoria got out her cell phone and began to film Rachel as she drove them back to Wendy’s house.

“Are you crazy?” said Rachel. “If you film me, it goes straight to the Sony database!”

“I paid a hacker to remove the low-jack chip from my cell phone, so any images I transmit don’t go to the Sony database,” said Victoria. “Technically, it’s illegal to have a cell phone that isn’t low-jacked, but so far, I’ve never been stopped by the cops about it! This is the same phone I used to film Britney and Cassie when they were initiated!”

That brought a smile to Rachel’s lips. “Then bring it on!” said Rachel as she raised her captive above her mouth and parted her lips. Victoria filmed the initiation as Rachel dropped the captive into her mouth, and the other girls back in Wendy’s bedroom watched Rachel swallow the tiny perv on Wendy’s computer monitor. When Rachel felt her esophagus collapse around the captive as he dropped into her stomach, she lifted her arms in victory and shouted, “I’ve sent him crashing to the depths of my belly!”

Poor Gene never stood a chance. He was so small that he glided effortlessly down Rachel's gullet, and plunged to the upper depths of her stomach. Rachel took a gulp of air and swallowed it so Gene would have an air pocket so he could last just a little bit longer than he would've otherwise. Gene swam and thrashed about, but to no avail; Rachel was now a V.O.R.E. Girl, and she would never relinquish him. Gene's last thoughts were of how satisfied his mistress must be, now that he was conquered and contained within her inescapable belly.

Back at Wendy’s house, the other girls jumped up and down and high-fived each other in celebration of having a new member join their outlaw captor club. When Rachel and Victoria returned to Wendy’s, they stayed up late that night celebrating.

Several days later, someone who wasn’t celebrating was Mike Phelps, a mental health therapist at the local Conditional Release Program, or “Conrep” as it was known to the men who had been released from the local mental institution and were court-ordered to take part in the program. Mike was concerned because Gene, one of the Conrep clients, hadn’t shown up in group the day before. Calls to his house went unanswered, so Mike decided to pay Gene a visit. Mike found the door ajar, as Rachel and Victoria had left it the day they had been there. After finding the decimated home security system and empty safe in Gene’s bedroom, Mike called the police.

Two officers arrived in a police hovercar, which was in standard mode. Police cars usually only flew when they were escorting a prisoner to the jail. The officers looked the place over, and questioned Mike and took down all the information he provided. Mike explained that Gene had been a sex offender, and that he had possibly been targeted by an outlaw captor club. At this point, it was difficult to guess which captor club was responsible, because there were several of these gangs that specifically targeted criminals. They filed a report by speaking into a hand held portable computer, then walked toward their squad car. Mike approached the officers.

“Do you think you can track down the outlaw captor club that abducted him?”

“Do you know how many cases like this we get every month?” said one of the officers. “With the number of abductions we get in this county, I’m surprised there’s still child molesters left walking the streets!” The officers got into their squad car and left.

Over that same span of time, Rachel Stryker’s life had changed for the better. She sat at the same table in the college cafeteria with Wendy, Victoria, Pallas, Marina, Britney, and Cassie. The only other people who sat at their table were the boyfriends of the girls. They were composed of two qualities; they were the cutest boys in school, and they were the toughest. Chad was Wendy’s boyfriend. Toby, Jake, and Chris belonged to Victoria, Pallas, and Marina, respectively. The boys who were in relationships with Wendy and her friends knew the girls were members of the Vore Girls captor club, and strove to keep their membership a secret.

Rachel took a sip from a sports drink bottle and asked, “Wendy, how many outlaw captor clubs are there?”

Wendy looked surprised. “You mean nobody has explained it to you yet?”

“No,” said Rachel.

“You guys,” Wendy said to the others, “you should’ve told her about it when she was initiated!”

“That’s your responsibility!” said Pallas.

“Yeah,” said Victoria, “you’re the leader!”

“Okay,” Wendy said to Rachel, “I’ll explain it to you. There are dozens of outlaw captor clubs here on the central coast, but the two main gangs are the Aryan Sisterhood and the Collectors. They both have chapters across the nation, just like our club.”

“The Aryan Sisterhood?” said Rachel. “Who are they?”

“They’re an all-female white-power gang formed in the women's California prison system. Unlike the Collectors, you have to be eighteen or older to join, just like our club!”

“Is the Aryan Sisterhood allied with the Vore Girls?” Rachel asked.

“No way!” said Wendy, “We’re enemies with them because they go after Mexicans and blacks, and we only target criminals. That’s why we have Marina in our club, because she’s Mexican! You can only join the Aryan Sisterhood if you have blonde hair and blue eyes. We’re not allied with anyone!”

Pallas interrupted and said, “There are members of the Aryan Sisterhood at this school, but they keep a low profile.”

While Rachel and her new friends were discussing gang politics, Mike Phelps was in his office back at Conrep pursuing a study course on the Internet. It was a correspondence course for private detectives, and Mike was studying the lessons.

“I was in the military,” Mike said to the empty room, “so you gangster punks should be easy to track down!”

Mike was obsessed with tracking down the culprit who had abducted Gene, because Gene had been a gentle old man, and Mike felt pity for him. Mike knew what Gene had been convicted of, but felt that Gene had served his time and was a better man than he had been at the time he had committed his crimes.

The study course was interactive, so Mike could pose hypothetical questions, and the course software would instruct him on how to proceed. Mike laid out the specifics of the crime, and the study course advised him to interface with satellites in orbit above those coordinates. It took half an hour, but Mike was finally able to get a listing of satellites that had filmed the area of San Luis Obispo where Gene lived on the day of the abduction. Starting with the first satellite on the list, Mike downloaded the file, but found that the satellite he was interfacing with was at too steep an angle to get a good shot of Gene’s house.

On his third try, Mike found a satellite that had a suitable angle. Mike surmised that there was a twelve-hour period of time when Gene had first become unaccounted for. As the scene fast-forwarded, Mike saw a blur of activity and ordered the computer to go back to that section of the film. As it replayed at normal speed, Mike saw a purple hovercar land near the curb in front of Gene’s house, and a blurry image of what appeared to be a young woman went to his door. After entering, another woman entered the house, and the two left moments later, got back in the hovercar, and flew off.

“Bingo!” Mike said to himself, and saved the images to his hard drive. He then zoomed in on the license plate and took the number down. The satellites took such high-resolution pictures that he could actually zoom in on the numbers and read them; but no matter how much Mike tried to modify the images of the two females, their faces were too distorted to identify them. After requesting a transponder reading, he checked with the DMV database, and it identified the transponder signal as belonging to Mr. Cheng Lee. Mike printed out the information, and headed to the police station.

A cop stirred artificial sweetener into his coffee and returned to his desk. Mike was seated in a chair on the opposite side.

“So you think you’ve got a handle on one of these outlaw captor clubs, huh?”

“Yes! As you can see, I’ve got all the information you need. I have photos of the car, the transponder signature, and the license plate number. The suspects came out blurry for some reason, though!”

The cop looked at the printout Mike had given him. “You realize, of course, that we don’t have a search warrant. If we go over there and he doesn’t want to cooperate, there’s nothing I can legally do!”

“I understand,” Mike conceded. “But if I did all this work and I’m right, you’ll get all the glory!”

“And if you’re wrong, and the press finds out, we’ll look like fools! One thing I’ve learned in this profession is never to be too over-confident, because criminals are smart these days! But I’ll take you over there to check into it!”

A short time later, Mike was standing in the front yard of Mr. Cheng Lee, the man whose name matched the transponder signature picked up by the satellite that had filmed the abduction. The cop rang the doorbell. A short, friendly-looking Asian man answered the door.

“I’m with the San Luis Obispo police department, and I was wondering if you’d be willing to answer a few questions.”

“Sure!” the man replied. The cop showed him the information on Mike’s printout, and Cheng Lee agreed that it was his car. After analyzing the information for another few moments, Lee noticed a discrepancy. “During the time these photos were taken, my hovercar was parked in my garage all day long!”

Cheng Lee was able to take the cop into his house, where his home security console was located. In the computer’s memory was proof that the purple hovercar he owned was in the garage the entire day of the abduction. Lee explained that it had been his day off.

The cop walked Mike back to the squad car to give him a lift back to the police station. “It looks like the culprits have a fake transponder signal that matches Cheng Lee’s! The car in your satellite photos isn’t his.”

Despite a deep sense of humiliation, Mike vowed to himself never to give up the search for Gene’s abductors. After dropping Mike off at the police station, the cop contacted a local news station about Mike’s failed amateur attempt to investigate the abduction.

That night, Rachel was having pizza at Victoria’s house when Wendy called Victoria and told her about the news broadcast. Victoria accessed the news story from the Internet and played it on the living room wide-screen television. Rachel and Victoria watched as the cop who had met with Mike earlier that day was standing there, being interviewed by a reporter in front of Cheng Lee’s house.

“I just wanted to reiterate in the minds of the public,” the cop said, “that these outlaw captor clubs are currently under investigation by the police, and it’s not up to private citizens to try to track down these criminals themselves!”

The reporter went on to describe the entire situation, and explained that the police were on the lookout for a hovercar identical to Cheng Lee’s that had an identical transponder signature.

“Well,” Victoria said to Rachel, “I guess I can’t drive my hovercar in stealth mode anymore!”

“Yeah, that’s true,” said Rachel, “but it won’t be too long before you get a new cloaking system, and then it’s party time!”

The End