Another commission for  21parrots who wanted a story involving a human getting thrown out with the trash to get scooped up by a scavenger. This one was fun to work on, and the premise was fun to play with too. I hope you all enjoy the messy nommy goodness.~

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Joseph stepped onto the hovering platform for human transportation in the quaint, dimply lit, italian restaurant for aliens to experience human cuisine. It gave a small hum as it lifted off and let him get a good view of the place.
Aliens from all corners of the galaxy were seated, with a few maneuvering between the tables with practiced ease. He assumed those were waiters working hard to please all these customers with their service. Eventually, his platform rose to the server’s podium, where he was greeted by a smiling asari.

“Welcome to Campella’s sir. Are you here to dine or volunteer?” She asked pleasantly, her voice being so casual that it wouldn’t convey the true ramifications of the volunteer option. It’s not like Joseph needed to be warned though. He spent a good portion of his life thinking upon this, and now the day was upon him.

“I’m here to volunteer.” The small human said to the towering waitress. In his mind, the words were monumental and sounded dramatic. However, to the waitress and the rest of the physical world, they were pretty nonchalant. It was a relatively frequent occurrence here after all. That did not change the fact that by saying that, Joseph sealed his fate of not leaving this place outside of a sloshing and gurgling alien stomach.

Campella’s specialized in incorporating humans into its meals, and consequentially their food was very expensive. Their method was relatively unique however, as they usually hid the humans to be eaten in their meals. Other places did this as well, but no restaurant makes a human feel like food even before they’ve been swallowed like Campella’s, nor was it their primary focus. The term “human cuisine” had a double entendre here.

“Would you like to be eaten by staff or would you rather be served?” She asked, her tone still nonchalant. Customers could ask for particular waiters and such if they wanted, although they wouldn’t be as enthusiastic as most customers would. A timely gurgle from the asari’s abdomen told Joseph that some weren’t deterred by this knowledge and took a dive down this asari’s throat.

“Um, I’d rather be served.” Joseph said. The asari nodded and reached a hand out. The human stepped onto it and she gently carried him towards the kitchen. On the way, Joseph wanted to make some conversation. The first thing that came to mind was influenced by the gurgling abdomen he was next to as she carried him. “So, have you had some humans today then?”

“Oh yeah, for some reason there’s been a good deal of patrons who wanted me to eat them.” She said as they walked past the numerous tables and seated customers. “It might be a tight squeeze in here but I could fit you too if you’ve changed your mind?”

Joseph watched her pat her belly as she asked. He smiled and shook his head, declining her offer. “No thank you, even though I bet it’s very nice in there.”

She smiled back and continued their journey to the kitchen, entering in where a turian cook stood amongst a few trays of other human volunteers.

“I’ve got one more for you A’rell.” Joseph looked up at the turian with red markings across his mandibles and crest. The pair gave each other a smile as he took the human from her hand and set him on the tray with the others.

“Thanks Kashra.” A’rell said as he got back to work preparing food. Joseph saw just in time to see a human covered in some kind of cheese and herbs get stuffed into some ravioli. He shuddered, knowing that he would be in a similar position soon.

…

Tanesh Sartarious sat down into a booth at Campella’s, browsing the menu and pondering what he would like. He faintly knew what it would be though. He was a regular turian at this establishment, and he had the credits to be such. He didn’t even bother with the menu anymore, simply deactivating the holographic display and sipping at the wine he ordered. It was a special night for him after all. It was the anniversary of First Contact with the humans.

Tanesh was an elderly turian captain, who served in the war. He had nothing against humans, but his swift conquering of many of their planets was something he was proud of regardless. It sent him racing up the ranks, and set him for life. Although, with that past glory gone he has been feeling particularly empty as of late, especially with the negative views people hold toward the way turians handled the war. When in these moods, he comes to Campella’s to get a good meal and remind him of those past glories.

“So what can I get for you tonight?” A salarian waiter asked, his omnitool ready to take the order.
“I’ll have the spaghetti and human meatballs. Amount: unspecified.” The turian stated in his powerful, militaristic voice. He would always get this meal. The humans were usually well hidden in them, and he never wanted to know just how many he was eating. It made him feel guilty, but he loved not knowing, only that there were some, and they were taking their place as food inside him. He didn’t need an exact amount; he just wanted the thrill of being the one to eat them again.

The salarian waiter wrote this down, nodding at the same time as he did so. With that he tapped his tool and it sent the order. “I’ll have it right out for you sir.”

…

Joseph watched A’rell spring into action once a message popped up on his tool with the order. He reached around the kitchen, grabbing food impliments and ingredients to prepare everything in a timely manner.

“Well, looks like it’s time to make you humans even more delicious.” A’rell stated, setting a bowl of ground beef on the counter.

“Hmm, he didn’t specify how many humans he wanted…” A’rell spoke aloud, and he peered over the counter to see the patron. He was mentally getting a number for how many he should make. “Hmm, turian… I’d say six would do, that way he gets nice and full, but it’s not too packed in there for you little guys.”

“You must be very good at this to be able to tell just by a look.” Joseph spoke. The turian’s view shifted Joseph, who shuddered at the gaze a bit. This turian seemed to have a lot of experience, as his visible age suggested.

“Oh yeah, I’ve been preparing humans since a turian could! I was the lead cook on my dreadnaught back in the first contact days.” A’rell stated, a little gently since he knew it was a bit sensitive, but he didn’t hide the information considering these humans wanted to be eaten after all. “I never liked preparing the unwilling ones, even though I was ordered to. You guys are much easier to handle, and its guilt free!”

The turian reached out to the tray of humans, pushing a group of six to the side, who bumped into each other. Joseph was among them and he smiled, knowing that he would be part of the meal the turian was just talking about.

“Ha, I appreciate the sentiment at least. I used to think back then turians were a bit uncaring of how humans felt considering.” Joseph commented.

“Nah, those were just the higher ups in the hierarchy trying to propagandize humans as food. Grunts like me know better. Back then I’d have rather made friends than food, even if you guys are delicious.” He finished mixing the spices in the ground beef and took a human from the tray. She shivered in the cold grip of his fingers and found herself curling up as she was rolled into a ball of beef, hidden from sight from everyone and set in a small dish.
“That’s sort of how we got the name of this place. I’m the owner you see, and Campella was a friend of mine I made while cooking. He taught me half of what I know now, before I ate him that is.”

Joseph watched as one by one, humans were taken into the turian’s talons, being rolled up into balls of meat to be baked soon. Eventually it was only him left. The turian turned his full attention to Joshua now, looking at him as nothing but a hunk of meat for this meal, which was exactly the case.

“Looks like you’re the last one human. Enjoy being turian chow.” He stated as he grabbed the human, pressing him into the meat and rolling him up like the others. Joshua grunted as he was curled into a ball by the master cook, his sight being overtaken by red meat as he realized that if the meal went as planned, he’d never see the galaxy again. Just straight from meat to mouth as he was eaten. The thought almost made him writhe in pleasure but he resisted, not wanting to ruin the turian’s creation.

He waited for what seemed to be a while as the turian continued to make the other meatballs of the meal, placing them with a light smack against the metal of the tray. Once a sufficient amount had been prepared, Joseph could feel gravity shift as the tray was lifted to the oven and slid inside with a clunk to be slowly baked.

…

Over the while it took to cook, Joseph felt the head grow more and more in intensity. The food around him grew stiffer than before, to the point where there was an outer layer of cooked meat that sealed him inside. Nothing Joshua could do would get him out of this now. He was stuck, and he was going to be eaten.

This thought propelled his spirit, despite the boring setting he was currently in. He knew it would change when the turian began to chew changing his reality from a stuffed meatball to a stuffed turian stomach. The time in the oven felt like a breeze, even if baking in it didn’t.

A’rell kept an eye on the clock while he prepared the pasta in a dish with some sauce, as well as a few other meals. Eventually, the oven let out an electronic note, signaling that it was done with cooking the orbs of flesh. He put on a mitt and pulled out the meatballs, placing them in one by one into the pasta before mixing the meal up to make it more visually balanced.

Inside, Joseph felt his ball tumble into the wet noodles, and then even more so as he was mixed up, tossed about in the confines. He soon could not figure which way was up or down, not much that it mattered. He’d best get used to being tossed around, considering he was about to spend the rest of his life inside a turian’s churning gut.

There was a few more moments of waiting, presumably as the rest of the meal was prepared before Joseph felt a more swaying motion as he was taken up in the grip of some unseen server. With each step, he felt a bit more jostled as he was carried over to the turian’s table. He was thankful for being situated inside the meatball, otherwise he’d find himself tumbling over if he was standing. He imagined what it’d be like, not constrained inside the meatball. Would people watch him as he was carried over to the hungry turian? It was doubtful, if he was being honest with himself. Humans here were often to be eaten, so they would not think much of it.

Once the swaying motion stopped, the human felt a shift of gravity, almost inducing a sense of vertigo before it was interrupted by the sound of ceramic and the metallic alloy of the table clanging together. The vibration of the impact could be felt through all the food present, as if it was yet another reminder of their fate.

…

Tanesh salivated at the sight, his stomach growling in hunger and his mind doing the same, but for different reasons. His stomach simply wanted meat, pasta, and other food items, while his mind wanted those humans hidden in there to instead be hidden forever inside his abdomen. He took his fork from the salad that he was eating a moment ago and dove it into the pasta, swirling it until he had a meatball bound in the noodles against his fork. He inserted the mouthful in between his jaws, gently chewing on the noodles but leaving the ball intact, not wanting to harm any potential living morsels. He wanted to feel their squirming once they were eaten after all, not the sloshing of disconnected body parts.

He tipped his head up, swallowing the orb and chewed noodles, not knowing if he just ate a person or not, and not caring entirely. They’d reveal themselves soon through movement after his stomach acids ate away at the meat around them and broke them free. He sighed in pleasure and resumed eating, bite after bite repeating this process. After a little while, he felt a small flutter inside his abdomen and smiled. It seems that one of the humans had gotten free from their edible prison and was moving about inside of him. The thought sent shivers of pleasure up his spine, knowing that he was in fact the predator of a few of the small creatures.

However, over time the turian’s stomach began to feel more and more bloated, filled to the brim with squirming meat, chewed leaves from the salad, and wiggly noodles. It was a common experience that he felt when practicing this routine, but it was still a trying one. He made it a point to eat all the meatballs, so that he doesn’t leave a single human on his plate to roam the galaxy again. One by one, the remaining meatballs were scooped up, placed inside his mouth, and the lips came together, hiding the sight of the ball being pressed behind the turian’s tongue and vanishing inside the engulfing blue throat with a resounding gulp. Each time, a lump could be seen in his long neck before vanishing down into his cowl and taking residence in the skinny abdomen.

Eventually, Tanesh stopped eating, patting on his abdomen with a heafty “thwap” noise as he was satisfied with the meal. He moaned and pet his belly, savoring the feeling of fullness before he looked down at one singular remaining meatball left atop the pile of noodles. He reached a talon towards it before pulling it back and shaking his head. There was no way he could eat one more, and he smirked at the idea. Humans were food, and sometimes food didn’t get eaten, so why should he care about this one? He pushed the plate away from him and signaled the waitress to come with the check, turning his attention to his abdomen and the food that he did eat.

“Mmhh, probably should not have eaten that salad.” He said, petting his gut before mischievously poking the abdomen. As he pressed his finger into his plates it sank in gently and stirred up the food inside. He moaned quietly at the feeling of the squirming humans inside the stomach. He couldn’t tell how many and he was happy and satisfied with that.

“Did you have any leftover humans sir?” the waitress asked as the check was brought to him.

“No ma’am, I ate all of them.” Tanesh said as the turian paid with his credit chit and stood, his food gently glorping inside his belly as he left the restaurant to continue his life, now with a few more humans attached to it.

…

Inside the blue chamber, there was a woman who pressed up and out into a small pocket of air with a few other humans. She socialized with them for a moment, with the group sharing a few pleasantries about being eaten by the turian. She then did a headcount of all present, counting one by one until she reached five then ran out of individuals. She cocked her head, remembering six humans being counted out for this turian’s meal.

Her thoughts were distracted as the turian got up, sloshing her around with each step and stirring the contents of the stomach. She shook her head, trying to reorient herself inside the gut as her face was splashed by liquidy noodle bolus. She soon lost her train of thought, not wanting it to interrupt her experience as food. To rationalize it off, she concluded that the missing human must have buried himself under the mess of food inside, joining the other two that decided being mush sooner was preferable to being mush later. Meanwhile, she merely went with the motions of the blue stomach around her, enjoying the feeling of digestion setting in on her form.

Over time, she and all the other patrons of the stomach began to soften under the constant digestive pressure, and eventually turned to mush by the stomach’s power, joining the legions of humans that have been eaten on the turians form.

…

Joseph felt more motion now, after some silence. But it wasn’t a “getting eaten” motion; instead it felt like he was being carried again. He cocked his head as best as he could at this, still trapped inside the meatball. It was with a sinking feeling that he realized just what exactly was happening. The turian got full, and they were going to throw him out. He thrashed and squirmed as much as he could, trying to break free of the meatball but it was no use, he was simply too weak.

Despite the human’s struggles, he soon felt himself tumbling from the plate and into a nearby trash container, his whole world thrashing around him for a brief moment until he landed with a thud atop the other unfinished meals of the night. He groaned at the feeling, writhing in pain as more and more was packed on top of him. The stench of the mixing foods was able to permeate the layer of meat surrounding his body as food was discarded. He had the unpleasant sensation of having fish be dumped on top of him next, which didn’t help at all. At least this was where all the cooked food waste went. Everything here was completely edible, so he wouldn’t have any unpleasant trash dropped atop his body as he awaited incineration inside a trash furnace.

That thought renewed the human’s struggles, which were unseen as closing time approached and a busboy came over to take the bag he was in out to the back alley, where the trash collector would come and dispose of it in the council designated manner.

Joseph gave up after a while of struggling, knowing he was doomed. He wallowed in this turn of events, wondering just how painful being dumped into an industrial grade incinerator is. Probably not very painful, considering that it has the heat output of thirty earth suns, so he’ll likely be disintegrated in an instant.
However, his doom filled thoughts were interrupted as he heard a rustling noise outside of his plastic prison, the bag was being opened it seemed, as it lacked the motion of being carried. If he was being carried to the incinerator, why would they need to open the bag?

...

Frell let out a hiss as he browsed tonights plunder, the vorcha’s sharp teeth behaving threateningly in the darkness of the wards back alley. He prowled, looking for something to eat on this dark night. He wasn’t exactly well off when it came to finances, so he saw no harm in cutting costs by going “free-gan” and eating out of the trash. It was what life was like on omega usually anyway. All he had to do here on the citadel was not get caught, otherwise he’d end up paying one hell of a fine.

Frell went to his favorite prowling spot, behind Campella’s, and looked for the trash container. He opened it and yanked the bag out from it, gently setting it on the ground and untying the knot on top. Inside, he saw a mishmash of different meals all pressed together in a disgusting visual image to anyone but the vorcha himself, who let out a happy growl. With a thrust of his claws, he scooped up a handful of the food, bringing it to his sharp and toothy maw. His jaws parted, showing off his slimy tongue as he carelessly tossed the food inside. The sense of taste wasn’t that prevalent on the vorcha tongue anyway, so he didn’t mind.

Meanwhile Joseph heard the happy hisses and growls and other odd exclamations from the vorcha and smiled. Maybe there was a chance for him to get eaten tonight after all! He listened to the vorcha have his fill outside, noisily chowing down on the food as it squelched between his sharp teeth. Joseph’s only fear was that he’d be chewed up by those sharp teeth, but at least if that happened he’d be useful in some way rather than just reduced to dust inside a compactor. Eventually, he felt some pressure around his prison and a lifting motion again, smiling at this experience.
The vorcha continued to devour the food, honestly the only thing corrupting the flavor being a faint plastic scent from the bag. He grabbed onto a mess of spaghetti and a meatball and brought it to his mouth, shoving it all inside and beginning to chew. Fortunately for the human, the maw was big enough so that once a sharp tooth came slicing through the meatball, he would be able to squirm out and fall amongst the mass of messy noodles and meat. He was lost in that, as the vorcha swallowed rapidly, pressing him down into the red flesh ahead and down the throat with a wet squelch.

The vorcha’s throat bulged briefly before it pressed down into his chest. The vorcha was unaware of the significance of the swallow, not knowing it carried a human along with it, turning him into food yet again as he enjoyed the feeling of the meat inside him. Instead, Frell kept on eating, working hard to satisfy the high metabolic rate his form had.

Joseph soon found himself splashing down into the stomach, landing atop that fish he was pressed against earlier. The first thing about his new home that struck the human was the smell. Everything was incredibly foul, and he couldn’t tell if that’s how stomachs were naturally, or if it was just the hodgepodge of classy food being mixed inside the vorcha, or if it was even the vorcha’s body itself. He gaged for a moment as his body got used to the sourness of the air enhanced by the fish. However the smell was constantly changing, as he was showered in mouthful after mouthful of different foods, liquefied by the chewing and saliva of the vorcha’s maw. Each bite was a portion of a different meal, and soon Joseph’s body was caked in various colors from various sauces. He was up to his neck in mushy food. Joseph struggled to find purchase inside the stomach, splashing about as whenever he found a place it was interrupted by another morsel of food upsetting the stomach levels.

Eventually though, the rain of it all stopped, reduced to a trickle of colored saliva as the vorcha licked his claws clean. Frell tied the bag again and set it in the trash can, moving on with his life, unaware of the fact that he sort of saved the life of a human from becoming nothing. Now, instead he’ll become nutrition for the vorcha, nothing more than meat which the stomach welcomed.

Joseph looked up from his new prison of flesh, watching some acids squirt into the food around him as the stomach wasted no time in beginning digestion. The stomach churned, giving another squirt into the belly as the heat grew in intensity. Gurgles and glorps sounded out all around Joseph as he felt his body weakening to the diluted acid in the sloppy mess.

Over the next hour, Frell would continue his prowl, enjoying the night life of the ward and blending in with the crowd, not knowing that inside his stomach was a contented human softening up to his digestive power. Eventually, the human began to liquefy and turned to mush just like other solid chunks of meat inside the organ, until it was all a semi uniform mess to be absorbed. Frell sighed as his belly grumbled, happy with such a successful hunt and moving on to enjoy his life.