Voretober 2022 - AWAKENING

Douglas woke up with a start. An awful revelation had just hit the jackal in a dream. One that stuck with him even now, as his mind cleared. If it wasn’t for the dread gripping his soul he’d believe the thought was ridiculous. It shouldn’t be possible. And even if it was, he shouldn’t be aware. But no matter how much he wanted to deny it, he couldn’t get the feeling out of his head. It was one simple truth: He was in a vore story.

Sitting on the edge of his bed, Douglas took some time to try and consider the ramifications of what that meant. He was only aware of the fetish’s basic existence. He didn’t even know anyone that had it, as far as he knew. But he supposed it meant he should avoid snakes or other bigger folks for the day. Would it only be a day? He wasn’t sure how long the ‘story’ was supposed to last. Hopefully, he’d wake up the next day, blissfully unaware of being a character.

He got up and picked up his phone from the charger. He decided to call in sick from work, as that seemed like a likely source of problems. After he got off the phone, he noticed someone had texted him. An old friend of his, a naga. But she hadn’t texted him in months. She wanted to meet up. Why today? No, that seemed far too suspicious. He replied with the simple excuse of being sick. Maybe they could meet up tomorrow, if he wasn’t still ‘sick’.

A shock hit him when his door opened and his roommate appeared. He was a somewhat overweight frog, one that Douglas thought could very easily swallow him whole. In this twisted version of his life, anyway. His roommate asked, “Hey, you want to come with me for breakfast?”

Douglas stayed firmly on his bed, ready to dodge in case a sticky tongue flew at him. “N... No. I’m good. Thanks.”

The frog shrugged. “Suit yourself! I’m going to go feast at Pancake House, I’m starving.” Rather than snatching him for a pre-breakfast snack, he simply closed the door behind him as he left. Douglas stayed seated until he heard his car leave. He sighed as the tension left his body. Some part of him felt like he was being paranoid, but another part just kept screaming he was in a story. He decided he should take a shower.

Throughout that, he wondered idly about the type of story he was in. Was it a comic? Writing? Maybe even a video or audio thing? He wondered when the awareness would go away. He could only assume he was the main character, for some godforsaken reason. Some sick freak out there just waiting to see him get eaten. Some sicker freak writing about him getting eaten! He shuddered, imagining them.

When he got out of the shower, it occurred to him he shouldn’t stick around at his place. He didn’t want to be around if his roommate did decide he wanted something more. But he wasn’t sure where he could go. A thought suddenly popped into his mind as he remembered a good friend, Lot. Lot was a beaver, smaller than him. He was even a vegetarian! This was surely the safest pick. He called and asked him what he was doing. Luckily, he was staying at home today as well, just working on his house. Douglas was free to come over, and so he decided he would.

The drive over was easy enough, although he’d rushed getting ready to avoid running into his roommate. Then, on the road, he drove carefully to avoid pissing off any potential predators. In seemingly no time at all, he arrived at Lot’s house. He was outside on a ladder, hammering away at something on his roof. Douglas parked and said, “Hey Lot! Thanks for letting me come over.”

Lot waved from the top of the ladder. “No problem!” He shouted. “What made ya want to come over?”

Douglas scratched the back of his head as he walked over, unsure what to say. “Uh... Just wanted to get out of the house.”

The beaver nodded and said, “Oh I understand. I was kinda feelin’ the same myself, hence workin’ out here.” He chuckled to himself and Douglas laughed awkwardly along, once again getting that feeling of being overly paranoid. Then Lot started losing his balance. He spun his arms around while shouting, “Whoa, whoa!” But then he fell backwards off the ladder, coming right towards the jackal.

Douglas watched in slow motion as he fell. He felt frozen, maw open wide as he was exclaiming something himself. Then time caught up as the beaver smacked into it, lodging himself deeply inside his mouth and throat. He realized just then what was happening. He’d misjudged his role in the story, the entire type it was. But now there wasn’t a thing he could do about it. Even with the unrealism of being able to fit Lot in his mouth, he was choking. And he couldn’t seem to spit him up.

I’m sorry, he thought to himself as he swallowed. Lot squirmed fiercely as he did, though his movements were tightly restricted inside the jackal’s throat. Douglas felt like he was burning as the beaver slid down, making such an oversized bulge. He could even feel it from outside, though it felt disturbing to touch. And he tasted like sweat and wood. He gagged, but he just had to keep swallowing too.

After too long, the beaver finally plopped into his stomach. The feeling of nausea hit him instantly, like he had eaten far too much. And indeed he had, as his belly bulged grotesquely and hung out of his shirt, over his waist. He instinctively wanted to hide it, to keep anyone else from seeing what he’d done. Even if it was an accident. Even if he still had that terrible feeling invisible, infinite people were watching from nowhere. Enjoying his struggle.

Muffled cries came out from his gut, things he couldn’t understand but he could tell were cries of pain. “Lot! Lot! I don’t know if you can hear me, but I’m so, so sorry... I’ll try to get out, but...” He wasn’t coming up easily, that was for sure. Heaving wasn’t working. He reached into his pocket to try and call 911, but met empty fabric. In his rush to leave, he must’ve left it behind. There was no way he could drive like this. Not to mention walk somewhere. And as he considered his options, he could feel the awareness fading. The story was ending. “But wait,” he shouted into the ether. “Will he be okay?!”