I apologize for not submitting much. I thought I'd upload this mini-story to bridge the gap while I finish a few other stories that are rather far along. I really wanted to write a short story that focused mainly on the post-vore interaction between pred and prey.
(Another one of my self-indulgent self-insert stories ^^)
Man, am I mean to my fursona.
A Tasty Squirrel + A Hungry Fox = An Unhappy Squirrel
In what could be considered an attempt to symbolically represent the day in summation, a quiet moan of bliss found its way from her lungs to the audible range of hearing.
Her eyes had long since closed, allowing her to more fully luxuriate in the aura and sensations that flooded her senses and awareness. Deep inside her mind, she knew that this was the best part and she made sure to do everything she could to savor every moment that was available to her. For pretty much everything in your life, there is an ideal. That is, there is a "perfect" way to do something or to utilize a certain object, or to experience a certain thing. With this in mind, she was absolutely sure that her current state was the unquestionably perfect way to experience the plush softness and natural warmth of the blankets strewn disorderly across her bed. This was the 'right' way to use these; the way to get the most amount of satisfaction out of them. Her current state (the one she felt most at home in) was one quite common to any creature that is even a vaguely successful predator: full.
Spread across the cushy surface of her bed with a broad grin of satisfaction across her face, the vixen would appear largely un-noteworthy, nothing particularly standing out above all other features. Her calm, serene mood would perhaps suggest that she was relaxing after a hard day's work and beginning to drift off into a well-deserved rest. Save for one feature that seemed to be the focus of the fox's attention: her slightly bulged out, obviously filled, belly.
She sighed in contentment as she gently stroked her full tummy, the delightfully satisfying sensation of having a living creature enclosed in her stomach seeping wonderfully deep into her perception. If you were going to use the word euphoria, this certainly would be an apt situation. Blocking out all other feelings and sensations, she devoted herself solely to focusing on the enormous pleasure to be extracted from the feeling of a creature weighing down her midsection, keeping a constant gentle caress up and down the aforementioned creature's container.
What was her stomach filled with, you ask?
It was a timid little squirrel by the name of Izzy. She had been out for a walk when she happened upon the little prey in a local park. It was like a delivery by fate; she had just been considering meal options when she suddenly spotted the rodent attempting to get a small nut off of a branch that was just out of reach. The first thing she noticed was the first thing she always noticed about prey species - his tail. She had developed a system of instant recognition based on the fact that different prey species tended to have uniquely different tails.
Mmm - a squirrel. He certainly would do nicely.
It hadn't taken much effort to catch the squirrel as she had taken extra care to make sure he was taken by surprise. After yelping in shock at the sudden attack, the squirrel tried to run away in a desperate attempt at escape but he was no match for a highly-trained (not to mention hungry) predator. While his begging for release began, she had sampled his flavor and was assured that this was, indeed, a lucky catch. She promptly took him back to her apartment, passing a friend of hers on the way who complimented her on a fine catch much to the fear of the squirrel in her grasp. They had taken a moment to enjoy toying with the rodent, teasing him about his predicament and how enjoyable they were sure he would prove to be. To her delight, he seemed very frightened and desperate, continuing to pitifully beg her to let him go. All the better - she loved hearing prey beg. And if he's begging now, her increasingly excited mind pondered, just think of how much he'll plead to me when I actually start eating him.
She decided to cover him in a bit of honey to enhance his delectable squirrelly flavor. This meant that she got to watch the emotions in his eyes as she coated him in the sweet-tasting substance, his mind trying to deal with the knowledge that he was being covered in something to enhance his flavor. That was the only thing she was concerned with - his flavor. In her mind, he was first and foremost, edible and she was simply adding something to him to intensify this. The concept of you not only have a 'flavor' but it being one that very many other species find particularly good enough to seek you out specifically is quite a disturbing one. Oh, yes; this had caused some very desperate begging indeed and she enjoyed it fully.
With unparalleled joy, she had shortly thereafter begun the consumption of her dinner. She soon found that she had been correct in the prediction that not only would the terrified rodent offer a plethora of entertaining pleads for his release and for her not to bring to life his nightmare of being swallowed alive by a predator such as herself, but also that he would prove to be a very delicious supper. Though his marvelous flavor challenged her to gobble him up quite hastily, she did her best to devour him at a pace that the rodent must have found agonizingly slow. Letting the flavor of his body fully seep into her tongue as she gradually slurped the little squirrel deeper and deeper into her, she casually enjoyed the wonderful act of swallowing another being whole. She continued the blithe consumption of her meal, giggling at his desperate attempt to find mercy in the predator. The parallel was interesting: to her, he was only a dinner option and his rightful place was inside of her stomach, where any delicious rodent belonged. To him, however, she was equally as typical; to him, she was 'the predator'. She was what he had tried his entire life to avoid; she was a creature on the long list of species that would only see him as a single thing: food. When he thought about her or her kind, there was only one thing going through his mind and only one thing that he knew would happen if they were within a certain distance from each other. They both thought of each other as the exact same kind of broad brush, only on opposite ends of the spectrum. He was the 'prey' and she was the 'predator', and all of the connotations that came with that.
Absorbed in his fantastic rodent flavor, she took every chance she could to run her tongue along his smaller frame as she gulped him down, knowing he obviously didn't like it. She liked how it made him squeak.
The desperation amused her; not only was he a delicious dinner but really, even if she had wanted to let him out, she wasn't sure she would be able to physically do so. He must have known this, yet he continued to plead with her not to eat him. She had not yet encountered anything that could be considered a predator to foxes (there were really none to speak of in this area, hence the large fox population) so she didn't know what it was like to face something like that, but she was very grateful that this was the result in this specimen. Rodents really got the short end of the stick on this deal - they were pretty much prey to everything and predator to nothing, with even small mammals like raccoons that were prey to countless other species still being predators to them. They must have to live their life in just constant fear of other creatures because odds are, they're one of their many predators. That's the way it is though, she thought, and I am happy to be near the very top of the list so I can enjoy tasty treats like this one.
Though she wished she could task herself to take an even longer time with this particular delicacy, she just couldn't stand the flavor of this creature being so close to her stomach but not there yet. With what little tenacity she had left, she slowly slurped the rest of his body into her mouth, completely sealing herself around him. As she had expected, this very concluding act sent him into an outbreak of desperate squirming and begging. Her smile grew as she simply allowed him to squirm for a moment, as it was only helping to spread his wonderful flavor through her mouth.
More than ready for this squirrel to curl up inside of her, she gave a deep, final gulp, sending the last of her dinner down her throat and the wonderful sensation of prey filling her belly grew more and more powerful as the squirrel was forced to curl up inside of the fox's stomach.
With the job of swallowing the little squirrel down complete and him being hopelessly sealed up inside of her body, she could now relax and enjoy having the little rodent in her gut. She found her way into her bedroom and gently collapsed onto the soft surface of her mattress, completely absorbed in the sensations of having a living creature within your body.
The squirrel began making quick, frantic squirms as he desperately searched for some escape from the prison of a living vixen's stomach. He was whimpering desperately and making small, sad noises, sounding as if he was near tears. To the rodent, it was overwhelming; here he was, in the one single place any prey's life was a mission to avoid; a predator's stomach. He had been eaten, his nightmare had come to life, and he was now trapped inside of someone who thought of him only as a food source. He was just another squirrel that had ended up in the belly of a fox.
Chuckling at his reaction, she gave a long sigh of satisfaction, maintaing the gentle rubbing of her squirrel-filled belly. Nothing could make this moment more perfect; comfortably and warmly resting with a delicious rodent curled up in your stomach. This was one of those times she had to admit she loved being a predator. Though he was currently just making very sad noises, she was hoping she could get him to say something, so she decided to let him know what she thought of him...as a meal, of course.
"Mmmmm...you were a fantastic dinner, squirrel."
She ran her tongue over her lips, picking up traces of the squirrel that had passed through those lips just moment ago.
A very soft, mournful whimper sounded from deep within the vixen, eliciting another chuckle from his captor.
"Aw, what's the matter, squirrel? This is quite enjoyable for me; isn't it the same for you?"
A coy, knowing smile spread across her face.
The squirrel made a few more noises, sounding like he was trying to say something but was too shocked and frightened to form syllables.
Following another sad whimper, a small, weak, and utterly defeated voice quietly resonated from the vixen's tummy, sounding as if every syllable was laborious.
"...p-p-p....p-p-please, p-please, M-M-Miss V-Vixen...p-please l-let me o-out of h-here..."
Her smile widened immensely as she got what she wanted and the squirrel actually begged her inside of her stomach. She giggled and pat her belly, letting the creature housed inside know that he was hers.
"I'm a predator and you're my prey. I caught you and gobbled you up for my dinner. You're inside my belly, just where you belong."
She drove the point home by giving her belly another possessive pat. That caused a very sad, desperate whimper and she was certain tears were coming to his eyes. He tried to beg "please" again, hoping to find a trace of pity in his predator, but it just came out as a whimper. She couldn't help but giggle again.
"Well, what did you expect, hon? I'm a fox and you're a squirrel. You're a very yummy entry on my list of potential prey, so that means I can swallow you up like the tasty little rodent you are."
He whimpered at her words, pausing for a moment as his thoughts became inescapable.
He was her dinner for the evening. That was his role in her life; he was 'dinner'; she had squirrel for dinner, and he was it. He squirmed slightly and realized he was still coated with a layer of honey, the sticky substance still clinging to his fur. Earlier thoughts reprised themselves and meshed with current ones: He was still covered in the sweet-tasting substance. It had done its job of enhancing his flavor and his consumption was complete but he was still covered in it as an artifact of his evening as dinner. With him being eaten now in the past tense, this only helped to further hammer home the concept of him solely being food to her. He was a consumed meal; why would she care about his condition after he was sealed inside of her belly? She had covered him in the stuff to enhance his flavor, it had done that, and now it no longer occupied space in her mind. There was just something very robbing of an identity that being topped with something before being eaten did, enhancing the sentiment that you are nothing but edible in the mind of a predator.
A deep feeling of insignificance radiated through his mind; it didn't matter who he was, or what he was like; at the end of the day, he was a squirrel. And to her, a squirrel was simply a culinary option and she had no problem simply snatching him up and swallowing him for dinner. There was virtually nothing he could have done to prevent him from being eaten the moment she spotted him, short of being a rather ruthless predator himself which, with Izzy, wasn't even worth considering.
Even if she did happen upon a squirrel that was somehow a fellow predator, it was obvious that this particular specimen was not a part of said group. The gentle, nervous personality, the constant state of submission, of knowing his place on the food chain and knowing that the only thing he could do is nicely ask a predator to let him go, forfeiting any display of power or a hint that he could try to get away if he wanted to; everything about him screamed 'prey'. Especially now; nothing screamed prey about him now more than...y'know...being in the stomach of a fox.
Suddenly, he heard her smack her lips again. It was a sound that was hard to miss, seeing as how he was currently inside of the creature making said noise.
A soft whimper coincided with the widening of her grin, giving her all the incentive she needed to elaborate further.
"You were really good all covered in honey; the sweetness was an excellent addition to your nice, rodent-y flavor."
She smacked her lips, as if trying to pinpoint something.
"Mmmmm...yes, there was something very delectable about you, something really savory about your flavorful little body."
Soft whines began to emanate from the femme fox and the creature housed within began making pleasant squirms, causing her eyelids to weaken momentarily as she was overtaken with the rather pleasurable sensations erupting from her midsection. Her articulation of his flavor had filled him with a particular kind of panic and impassioned need to find an escape from his predator's stomach. Though it was quite obvious at this point that there was none, having someone explain what you taste like while being forced to listen to it seeing as how you're trapped within the person telling you creates a very unique emotion whose main ingredient is fear, bordering on hysteria. Her belly-rubbing increased in speed and intensity.
"Ooooh...my dinner doesn't like that, does he?"
The defeated, squeaky voice once again joined the conversation momentarily.
"...p-please, p-please M-Madam Predator...let me out of your s-stomach...please...I...I d-don't w-want to be inside y-you..."
Hey, she thought with a hint of pride, I got him to beg from inside my stomach again. As she continued rubbing, she pressed down a little harder once or twice, just to demonstrate how in control of him she was. It was a wordless indication to him that from her view, the only visual indicator of his existence was the fact that her belly was very slightly swelled with her dinner. Other than that, if someone were to see her right now, they would only see a fox and nothing else. She couldn't help but giggle as she responded to his desperate plea.
"No, there's no chance of that, squirrelly. You're mine now, and I decide where I want you to be. And since I ate you up and you are feeling quite good in my stomach, my belly is where you're going to stay. Right where prey like you belongs."
A particularly sad whimper sounded as tears filled Izzy's eyes. The utter feeling of helplessness and despair was really sinking in at another plea for freedom being denied. The admission that he had lost control of his fate through getting caught by a predator really hit home as the only thing he could do (beg) did nothing to sway the opinion of his pred or inspire mercy. He really was 100% at her control; she decided what would happen to him.
He had gotten caught. *Caught*. The word's meaning finally sunk in. As a tear rolled down his cheek, desperation insisted he try one more time. He squirmed again slightly.
"...p-p-please, M-Madam P-Predator..."
She had to admit, she did like that title. She liked how much of an admission of her control over him it was. She should put that at the top of her stationary. With a light chuckle, she gave her belly another pat.
"Enjoy your stay in a fox's belly, hon."
With his last ditch effort to plead for his release refuted, the destruction of his only chance of being released from his living prison was confirmed. Left totally helpless and frightened, Izzy broke down in tears, crying in pitiful little whimpers. He felt so utterly alone, despite being inside of a living creature.
She picked up on this rather quickly, hearing the little squirrel sniffling in her stomach. She grinned and gave him one final pat.
Suddenly, she reached down past her legs, grabbing her covers. As she was pulling them over her, she spoke one last time to her dinner.
"Well, I'm feeling rather tired after that very successful and rewarding hunt so I think I'm going to get some shut-eye. Nothing better than curling up to go to sleep with a stomach full of prey. Good night, tasty little squirrel. Thank you for all of the entertaining pleading; you were a very enjoyable meal indeed."
With that, she rolled over onto her stomach, squishing Izzy into an even smaller space as her stomach compressed against the mattress. She smiled as she shut her eyes, preparing to drift off to sleep. To top off the immensely enjoyable evening, the squirrel started to squirm again, panicking at the sudden change.
"Mmmmm...that's it...squirm...good squirrel..."