A commission for
volkanwolf
As soon as the new five-star restaurant opened up, featuring a menu of the fattiest of foods, the 20’-tall dragon Volkan homed in on its location, made his orders and cleaned out the place promptly. When the deed was done, outside, a great gluttonous belch could be felt as though it were an earthquake.
The emerald, white-maned dragon then passed through the swivelling front doors of the restaurant, trudging out into the park of a metropolis. Below him, his gut appeared ovular and sagged to his knees and grumbled greasily and noisily. Usually, he averaged 28,500 pounds on an American scale, but he had eaten over 100 banquets and had eaten at least 30,000 pounds in food, more than his body weight.
Wait, you may think to yourself: How could a dragon eat 30,000 lbs with only 100 banquets? Well, it wasn’t just the banquets that he ate. Sure, for appetizers he ate a couple dozen salads (those don’t count) and a couple of dozen bread loaves; the main meals that the restaurant served, though, were greasy triple cheeseburgers and fries; giant platters of steak served with gravy-ed mashed potatoes and green beans; salmon; sashimi; tuna; cod; clams; chowder; and an assortment of other sweet, savory, filling comfort foods that he didn’t quite get a good glimpse at before he stuffed them at his face.
Those were the banquets that had partially bottomed out his belly and now churned in the pit of his massive fleshy depths, becoming as chunky as the mashers he ate. But the entirety of the menu, the whole food stock of the restaurant hadn’t completely sated Volkan’s gut: After his last plate, he had felt … starved. Only a thousand pounds of food or so had been served up by the chefs, and he could devour at least his body weight—needed to do this in order to not shrivel up and become all flesh and bones, his body told him.
His greedy, chubby body was lying to him, of course, but he could not jerk himself free from the clutch of food addiction. He had seen the waiter—salivated and thought, Just one; and before he knew it, he had turned the restaurant into a mess of cleaned trays and belched up clothing. More would be belched up soon: as soon as he metabolized these tasty morsels.
Inside of his stomach, wet, deep, rude onomatopoeia slapped against his stuffed stomach walls. They clenched over the packed-away pile of 166 squirming, struggling people. What articles of clothing had not been burped up earlier now disintegrated in the gastric cess chamber, to the slow sizzle and churn of golden chyme. To the warbles of his thickly padded belly walls, the stomach fluids rose higher until they fully immersed the foods of the restaurant’s menu. He groaned from the fatigue the digesting meats gave him; he still had to spread his wings, but the metabolic process filled him with laziness and made something as simple as stretching those leathery membranes a taxing idea. Instead, Volkan decided to slump down in the park for a while on his vociferous white paunch, the dragon groaning.
“BwwwWWWrrruuUuEeeeaaaaawwwllllllllLlCCChhhHHH!”
The thunderous belch proved to be as huge as the 21’-tall dragon. It echoed through the metropolis, caused a traffic jam in the middle of a nearby intersection and set off the alarms of a parked car. A following belch of crasser timbre and deeper bass destroyed the alarm of the car with its reverberation, and then Volkan caught a brisk flu of the hiccups.
“Hic! HIC! HIC!”
Thumps of the earth upset and unaligned park benches, and sent wildlife in the park area skittering for farther trees—or, at the very least, higher spots on already inhabited ones. Slorshes and indigestive howls and squabbles broke out of his grotesquely huge belly. Pretty much all fabric of his victims had been melted away, and now fur and feathers and scales faced the harmful, acidic groans and noisome clashes of his belly’s toxic chyme. The squirms and pleads and cries of his prey strengthened so much, you could almost hear the muffled noises below the slurring, chirring gossip of his stomach enzymes: They came from the horrified-looking contours that shifted on either side of his paunch.
All the hubbub and fuss being made by his belly juices and his prey gave Volkan ghastly meat sweats, shivers and a horrid feeling of bloat. He whimpered lustfully, eyes screwed shut as his gullet jerked a few times. Suddenly, his body squiggled, and a gargantuan dome zoomed up his throat, before his cheeks each ballooned for a “BrrWWuuOOOooooOooooaaaaawwhhHhhhhhhppppPP!!!”
The belch popped his cheeks with an explosion of harsh, raunchy poisons. The sonic rumble of the belch lasted for 17 seconds, unearthing trees from their roots and slowly swatting them down, some of them crashing into a once-serene lake nearby. Geese honked shrilly, and tried to flap off into the sky, but grew dizzy and pitched down into the water like heavy anchors. A miasma that smelled of fattening American food, rank seafood and the natural odors of furred, feathered and scaled folk permeated the premises.
With a lethargic “HUFF,” Volkan panted and rolled his eyes, before another “UUwwWWWRRRRPPPHH” ripped open his rude dragon maw and bellowed itself to the skyline of the city. Worse and worse his earth-hiccuping burps hit the ground, as he dug his claws deeper and deeper into the grass, humping his turgid gut against the cracking loam to push up more unbearable pressure. “HuuuuuwwRRrrrrruuuUurrRRrrRruuuRRuuuRRRRCCCCKKKKKCKK!”
Tighter his walls clenched around the melting mulch of people inside of his poison-steaming humidifier of a stomach. Now, bits of flesh and bone swirled through the stew, some of reptiles and some of avians and some of mammals—the variety of skeletal pieces went on and on.
And, it appeared that this variety would only grow larger. See, Volkan had digested thousands of pounds of food and had heaped thousands of more pounds onto his form. Hips that had already been chubby turned corpulent, jiggling nonstop from the reverberation of previous belches; his flanks gathered rolls of flab, and his blankets of mushy fat began to drip from his cheeks. All the while, pudgy mass filled out his neck with layers warmer than a turtleneck, while his scaly tail bloated up like an extra long sausage.
Because of this tremendous weight gain, his stomach sensed a void, and he yearned to eat yet again, as though he were starving. The instinct of a food-depraved beast filled his body with adrenaline. Thick, hot slather struck between his forepaws.
What happened next was a miracle: Police sirens wailed across the street, before a dozen police cars drifted onto the park lawn. Twenty furs from the police force jumped out of vehicles and aimed pistols at the dragon. Why was he being arrested, he wondered?
For not paying at the restaurant, maybe?
The thought subsided as hunger warped his priorities. He saw that around the police force, a great crowd of people—perhaps one hundred!—had gathered to watch the debacle unfold. Bullets flashed from muzzles and bounced harmlessly off of his myriad layers of fat, plopping down around his flanks. The dragon sneered at the cops. The ticklish massage of gunfire just ushered out another crass “BeelllLUUuwwwRRrrooooouuWWrrrRRppPPppHHhhhH!!!” from his maw. These poisons proved to be so potent, they hypnotised both the police force and the bystanders. Weapons were dropped; 120 people in total dropped to their knees, then crawled into the lowered maw of the dragon, crossing his tongue into the abyss.
Once the last person was eaten, Volkan lounged on a stomach that weighed about 28,000 pounds. His previous weight after binging on the restaurant’s dishes and inhabitants trumped this one, and he could sense this: It sort of left his stomach grumbling and groaning for more, but it was nearly ten o’clock, and he needed to get back to his roommate’s lair before it was too late—before his gut weighed too much for him to fly.
So fly he did—with the aid of his dragon magic. That relieved half of the weight from his body. En route to his cave from the metropolis, his pulsating belly walls compacted his second helping of prey tighter and tighter, beginning to decompose them to add them to the remains of the first batch: Only bones and skulls remained of them, and a few slivers of sizzling skin and muscle.
He winged about 30 miles before he descended at the threshold of a dragon’s cave secluded behind tall sequoias and redwoods in the mountains. Within the cavern, a dragon named Sini was sleeping: His ear twitched into a soldier's salute, sensing the croaks and heavy, gurgly baying of the green dragon’s puffy midriff before he heard the stomping of paws resound through the stony abode. As comparable to a street of clustered traffic in volume Volkan’s belly cacophony was, it didn’t awake Sini; he was wearing earmuffs (made with studio quality soundproofing!).
Volkan tried to pad with polite quietness into the room to sleep himself. Alas, his stomach went WARUWARUBUBURRWRRRRR and could not be tamed. It snarled and snapped like a canine in need of euthanasia. Volkan just happened to be dwelling with jaws fixed in Sini’s direction when the bulgy skeletal pile at the pit of his paunch disciplined him for not sooner tending to it; muscle reflex forced him into gagging and onto his hind paws only, and presently, a mountainous belch purged an ocean of sound which crashed and splashed wave after wave throughout the cave, layering itself with itself from the vastness of the lair.
Bones surged from the bottom of his belly and showered the sleeping dragon, who wasn’t sleeping for long. Sini’s earmuffs flew off, and Sini woke up and turned to the slathery rain of marrow of dozens and dozens of easily digested people: Some of them were dragons like him, just not quadrupeds. Volkan didn’t attempt to rein more control over his eructing maw as the skeletons clacked and stuck to Sini with a sticky mixture of saliva and chyme; Sini’s attention only seemed to bolster the deepness and brassiness of the “uuUuuuUUwwWWrrrrrRrrrRrRRrrrrwwwPPppppppHhhhppphhh!” mortaring his face.
Volkan and Sini gagged on the caustic stench of the bone-trembling belch, and Volkan felt greatly fatigued, and yet it only awoke the giddy burblings and slorshes of his belly, and a wave of bubbly paroxysms broke through his belly toward his gullet, before a second “bwWwUuuOooWrrRpPPmmPhhHmmPhh!!!” hammered open his domed cheeks and purged every iota of gas from them in a malodorous blast at Sini’s face.
Poison fumes of a deep purple shrouded Sini, who now lay shuddering and aching, having been pinned against a wall by the viscous slather and goop of Volkan’s digestive system. Bones of dragons just like him clung to him, along with pieces of police officer suits and articles of clothing from bystanders who had watched the officers attempt to arrest Volkan.
A foul, gastric slime drooled over Sini’s maw, taping it shut too. He could muffle whinnies and pleas, and squirm against his partial cocoon of slime and bile on the wall, but he could not break free. Meanwhile, Volkan’s metabolic process sped up rapidly—so much so, he groaned because he could feel pudge actively pouring out of his cheeks, gullet, flanks and thighs, making his already corpulent rump a symbol of borderline morbid obesity. While his alabaster stomach bulge waned, Volkan could feel the soft flutters of belly flesh from his prey screaming hard, as they sizzled away in his hydrochloric juices, the people splashing and twitching grotesquely while his digestive swamp roiled and rose over them. His belly buckled and vibrated while it shrank dramatically, until his powerful insides corroded his very last meal until naught but aftertaste and extra weight for his curves.
That meant that Volkan could feel his hunger rapidly surging through his body again; he couldn’t help but eye Sini with gluttony and hyperventilate, the emerald dragon groaning to the protests of his stomach. Sini was a middleweight blackie with a humble plumpness to his plum-colored belly, yet because he was a 13’-tall dragon (only 7’ shorter than Volkan), he amounted to 5,500 pounds and could be Volkan’s most lush meal yet.
Volkan’s now-empty stomach howled deeply, and Volkan moaned, “You look sooo good, babe … I gotta have you … I’m gonna have you … You’re gonna make me so faaat.”
The poisoned dragon whined loudly and thrashed in his slimy bonds, but Volkan pawed forward with his ginormous rear end swaying giddily, and then pounced forward and swallowed the tip of Sini’s tail. Raucous slurps echoed throughout the cave and distended and had strength enough to break Sini’s bonds: Half of the tail bulged and slapped in peril against the swelling pred throat, and purple claws scrabbled over stone and clattering bone shards as Sini got pulled inside. The jowls of that ravenous maw stretched and rippled as peristalsis gripped the black muscled haunches and the portly gut of Sini, plunging the firm purple belly over the lapping tongue and folding wings over a long draconic palate.
Acerbic flavors granted a sweet aftertaste, giving Volkan fervid tingles as more of the warm, generously-sized dragon packed his esophagus. Sini rolled onto his back and tried to pry the green dragon’s jaws open, but only received a mischievous smirk and a “bwwOorrwwRpp” that gushed out of the clamped jaws and slanted nostrils instead.
Crude gulps peeled Sini’s talons away and nudged his shoulders into the narrowing jaws. Reeling his neck in panic, Sini finally burst the muzzle of slather with the words “Volkan, please!” but was cut off by the snapping-shut of grinning dragon chops.
The dragon gulped and slurped the last of Sini down into his stomach, bellying the poison dragon in his roiling poison paunch. Powerful belly muscles wrapped around the dragon as he squealed and squirmed with a desperate expression. Chyme dribbled and splattered on his form from above as Volkan’s gluttony issued more stomach fluids to fill the pool, and so it rose over the drowning dragon. Sini flailed and splashed as the gastric fluid speckled his black scales and stung and sizzled in several places. He tried to brush it off, but only managed to smear more along his body; he tried to gulp in air, but only managed to suck in a mouthful of the horrible, astringent atmosphere which was teeming with toxins of decaying people. The humid inhale burned his lungs and forced him to purge the remaining oxygen, at which point the poison dragon shuddered and twitched to the tighter clenching walls around him.
“HwwRrreeehhhuUuuueeewwwwphhhhhhpppPPPppp! HHhrroooOOOaaawwwrrRRrwwwrrRRRRwhhhhhhKKK!!! HrrOooOOOAOAaaaaRRRrwwWWRrRrrCCCHhhHhHH!!!”
Volkan moaned loudly as his dragon-clenching chamber sucked tighter on the suffering dragon. Plumes of noxious fumes rose from his body while scales melted away, sloughing into the increasingly greasy stew of the bubbling, burping mulch. Soon the erasure of scales revealed flesh and sinew beneath the legendary dragon’s frame: And as Sini fell to Volkan, Volkan could feel a subtle transfer of power between the two of them: The emerald dragon was inheriting the poison powers of Sini, his poisons becoming more potent by the second and practically pouring from his pores as a steamy vapor.
The dragon Volkan humped his stomach against the cavern floor to the amplified noises of borborygmi, groaning lewdly; soon, the squelching impacts of his humps turned to soft clacks, which grew harder and harder as more of Sini’s musculature peeled away to reveal the skeletal structure beneath.
Soon Volkan’s prey had a meager amount of meat left on his bones, and he had stopped struggling. Meanwhile, Volkan couldn’t stop rolling his eyes from the sheer euphoria of Sini’s mass rolling over him and amplifying his ridiculous percentage of body fat. A hefty horned skeleton floated amid the last disintegrating dragon scales. Claws and barbs drifted amongst ivory ribs, leg bones, wing bones and tail bones.
The last of Sini’s essence swirled over Volkan, empowering the green dragon: Presently, Volkan felt like he had finally engorged himself to the fullest extent, and he also sensed that his venoms were stronger than ever, even the gaseous ones. Suddenly, he felt a significant amount of bloat well up in his belly area. Although the belly had deflated to have a modestly pudgy curve, it now inflated to be as huge as Sini himself was; it had filled up again simply with all gas.
The green dragon couldn’t contain the abundant heat boiling up in him anymore; the cavern rumbled from the wet cacophony of his gut before he unleashed a nightmarish belch.
“BUUUWWRRRrrrRRRRRWWWOOOOOAAARRWRWRWRWRRRRRWWrwwRWRRRRRRROOOOOOAAAAAAOOOOaaOWOWOWORORRRRRRRRRRRRRRRBBURRRRRRRUUuuUuUUUWWRWRWRRrrrRRWWPPU UUUUUUURRRPPPppPPPhhhHHHHHppHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHurphHHHHH!!!!!”
The downright disgusting belch lasted for minutes; it continued and continued and failed to end. With the aid of the belch, his metabolic system completely digested the last bits of Sini that weren’t bone, and eructed all sorts of bones out of the evolved dragon’s maw: Giant bones piled on top of giant bones in the cave, smashing smaller ones while the pile swelled and swelled. Having absorbed the power of Sini’s noxious belches, Volkan belched loud enough to silence Sini’s most legendary belch. Sini’s greatest burp would have sounded measly in comparison. After 140 seconds, when it was beginning to miraculously become stronger instead of softer, the sheer strength of it rattled the mountain itself until the stony slopes began to avalanche outside … which brings us to the present. The belch still hasn’t ended.
What are your favorite parts? Least favorite? Comments and feedback are welcome!
volkanwolfDragon GluttonyAs soon as the new five-star restaurant opened up, featuring a menu of the fattiest of foods, the 20’-tall dragon Volkan homed in on its location, made his orders and cleaned out the place promptly. When the deed was done, outside, a great gluttonous belch could be felt as though it were an earthquake.
The emerald, white-maned dragon then passed through the swivelling front doors of the restaurant, trudging out into the park of a metropolis. Below him, his gut appeared ovular and sagged to his knees and grumbled greasily and noisily. Usually, he averaged 28,500 pounds on an American scale, but he had eaten over 100 banquets and had eaten at least 30,000 pounds in food, more than his body weight.
Wait, you may think to yourself: How could a dragon eat 30,000 lbs with only 100 banquets? Well, it wasn’t just the banquets that he ate. Sure, for appetizers he ate a couple dozen salads (those don’t count) and a couple of dozen bread loaves; the main meals that the restaurant served, though, were greasy triple cheeseburgers and fries; giant platters of steak served with gravy-ed mashed potatoes and green beans; salmon; sashimi; tuna; cod; clams; chowder; and an assortment of other sweet, savory, filling comfort foods that he didn’t quite get a good glimpse at before he stuffed them at his face.
Those were the banquets that had partially bottomed out his belly and now churned in the pit of his massive fleshy depths, becoming as chunky as the mashers he ate. But the entirety of the menu, the whole food stock of the restaurant hadn’t completely sated Volkan’s gut: After his last plate, he had felt … starved. Only a thousand pounds of food or so had been served up by the chefs, and he could devour at least his body weight—needed to do this in order to not shrivel up and become all flesh and bones, his body told him.
His greedy, chubby body was lying to him, of course, but he could not jerk himself free from the clutch of food addiction. He had seen the waiter—salivated and thought, Just one; and before he knew it, he had turned the restaurant into a mess of cleaned trays and belched up clothing. More would be belched up soon: as soon as he metabolized these tasty morsels.
Inside of his stomach, wet, deep, rude onomatopoeia slapped against his stuffed stomach walls. They clenched over the packed-away pile of 166 squirming, struggling people. What articles of clothing had not been burped up earlier now disintegrated in the gastric cess chamber, to the slow sizzle and churn of golden chyme. To the warbles of his thickly padded belly walls, the stomach fluids rose higher until they fully immersed the foods of the restaurant’s menu. He groaned from the fatigue the digesting meats gave him; he still had to spread his wings, but the metabolic process filled him with laziness and made something as simple as stretching those leathery membranes a taxing idea. Instead, Volkan decided to slump down in the park for a while on his vociferous white paunch, the dragon groaning.
“BwwwWWWrrruuUuEeeeaaaaawwwllllllllLlCCChhhHHH!”
The thunderous belch proved to be as huge as the 21’-tall dragon. It echoed through the metropolis, caused a traffic jam in the middle of a nearby intersection and set off the alarms of a parked car. A following belch of crasser timbre and deeper bass destroyed the alarm of the car with its reverberation, and then Volkan caught a brisk flu of the hiccups.
“Hic! HIC! HIC!”
Thumps of the earth upset and unaligned park benches, and sent wildlife in the park area skittering for farther trees—or, at the very least, higher spots on already inhabited ones. Slorshes and indigestive howls and squabbles broke out of his grotesquely huge belly. Pretty much all fabric of his victims had been melted away, and now fur and feathers and scales faced the harmful, acidic groans and noisome clashes of his belly’s toxic chyme. The squirms and pleads and cries of his prey strengthened so much, you could almost hear the muffled noises below the slurring, chirring gossip of his stomach enzymes: They came from the horrified-looking contours that shifted on either side of his paunch.
All the hubbub and fuss being made by his belly juices and his prey gave Volkan ghastly meat sweats, shivers and a horrid feeling of bloat. He whimpered lustfully, eyes screwed shut as his gullet jerked a few times. Suddenly, his body squiggled, and a gargantuan dome zoomed up his throat, before his cheeks each ballooned for a “BrrWWuuOOOooooOooooaaaaawwhhHhhhhhhppppPP!!!”
The belch popped his cheeks with an explosion of harsh, raunchy poisons. The sonic rumble of the belch lasted for 17 seconds, unearthing trees from their roots and slowly swatting them down, some of them crashing into a once-serene lake nearby. Geese honked shrilly, and tried to flap off into the sky, but grew dizzy and pitched down into the water like heavy anchors. A miasma that smelled of fattening American food, rank seafood and the natural odors of furred, feathered and scaled folk permeated the premises.
With a lethargic “HUFF,” Volkan panted and rolled his eyes, before another “UUwwWWWRRRRPPPHH” ripped open his rude dragon maw and bellowed itself to the skyline of the city. Worse and worse his earth-hiccuping burps hit the ground, as he dug his claws deeper and deeper into the grass, humping his turgid gut against the cracking loam to push up more unbearable pressure. “HuuuuuwwRRrrrrruuuUurrRRrrRruuuRRuuuRRRRCCCCKKKKKCKK!”
Tighter his walls clenched around the melting mulch of people inside of his poison-steaming humidifier of a stomach. Now, bits of flesh and bone swirled through the stew, some of reptiles and some of avians and some of mammals—the variety of skeletal pieces went on and on.
And, it appeared that this variety would only grow larger. See, Volkan had digested thousands of pounds of food and had heaped thousands of more pounds onto his form. Hips that had already been chubby turned corpulent, jiggling nonstop from the reverberation of previous belches; his flanks gathered rolls of flab, and his blankets of mushy fat began to drip from his cheeks. All the while, pudgy mass filled out his neck with layers warmer than a turtleneck, while his scaly tail bloated up like an extra long sausage.
Because of this tremendous weight gain, his stomach sensed a void, and he yearned to eat yet again, as though he were starving. The instinct of a food-depraved beast filled his body with adrenaline. Thick, hot slather struck between his forepaws.
What happened next was a miracle: Police sirens wailed across the street, before a dozen police cars drifted onto the park lawn. Twenty furs from the police force jumped out of vehicles and aimed pistols at the dragon. Why was he being arrested, he wondered?
For not paying at the restaurant, maybe?
The thought subsided as hunger warped his priorities. He saw that around the police force, a great crowd of people—perhaps one hundred!—had gathered to watch the debacle unfold. Bullets flashed from muzzles and bounced harmlessly off of his myriad layers of fat, plopping down around his flanks. The dragon sneered at the cops. The ticklish massage of gunfire just ushered out another crass “BeelllLUUuwwwRRrrooooouuWWrrrRRppPPppHHhhhH!!!” from his maw. These poisons proved to be so potent, they hypnotised both the police force and the bystanders. Weapons were dropped; 120 people in total dropped to their knees, then crawled into the lowered maw of the dragon, crossing his tongue into the abyss.
Once the last person was eaten, Volkan lounged on a stomach that weighed about 28,000 pounds. His previous weight after binging on the restaurant’s dishes and inhabitants trumped this one, and he could sense this: It sort of left his stomach grumbling and groaning for more, but it was nearly ten o’clock, and he needed to get back to his roommate’s lair before it was too late—before his gut weighed too much for him to fly.
So fly he did—with the aid of his dragon magic. That relieved half of the weight from his body. En route to his cave from the metropolis, his pulsating belly walls compacted his second helping of prey tighter and tighter, beginning to decompose them to add them to the remains of the first batch: Only bones and skulls remained of them, and a few slivers of sizzling skin and muscle.
He winged about 30 miles before he descended at the threshold of a dragon’s cave secluded behind tall sequoias and redwoods in the mountains. Within the cavern, a dragon named Sini was sleeping: His ear twitched into a soldier's salute, sensing the croaks and heavy, gurgly baying of the green dragon’s puffy midriff before he heard the stomping of paws resound through the stony abode. As comparable to a street of clustered traffic in volume Volkan’s belly cacophony was, it didn’t awake Sini; he was wearing earmuffs (made with studio quality soundproofing!).
Volkan tried to pad with polite quietness into the room to sleep himself. Alas, his stomach went WARUWARUBUBURRWRRRRR and could not be tamed. It snarled and snapped like a canine in need of euthanasia. Volkan just happened to be dwelling with jaws fixed in Sini’s direction when the bulgy skeletal pile at the pit of his paunch disciplined him for not sooner tending to it; muscle reflex forced him into gagging and onto his hind paws only, and presently, a mountainous belch purged an ocean of sound which crashed and splashed wave after wave throughout the cave, layering itself with itself from the vastness of the lair.
Bones surged from the bottom of his belly and showered the sleeping dragon, who wasn’t sleeping for long. Sini’s earmuffs flew off, and Sini woke up and turned to the slathery rain of marrow of dozens and dozens of easily digested people: Some of them were dragons like him, just not quadrupeds. Volkan didn’t attempt to rein more control over his eructing maw as the skeletons clacked and stuck to Sini with a sticky mixture of saliva and chyme; Sini’s attention only seemed to bolster the deepness and brassiness of the “uuUuuuUUwwWWrrrrrRrrrRrRRrrrrwwwPPppppppHhhhppphhh!” mortaring his face.
Volkan and Sini gagged on the caustic stench of the bone-trembling belch, and Volkan felt greatly fatigued, and yet it only awoke the giddy burblings and slorshes of his belly, and a wave of bubbly paroxysms broke through his belly toward his gullet, before a second “bwWwUuuOooWrrRpPPmmPhhHmmPhh!!!” hammered open his domed cheeks and purged every iota of gas from them in a malodorous blast at Sini’s face.
Poison fumes of a deep purple shrouded Sini, who now lay shuddering and aching, having been pinned against a wall by the viscous slather and goop of Volkan’s digestive system. Bones of dragons just like him clung to him, along with pieces of police officer suits and articles of clothing from bystanders who had watched the officers attempt to arrest Volkan.
A foul, gastric slime drooled over Sini’s maw, taping it shut too. He could muffle whinnies and pleas, and squirm against his partial cocoon of slime and bile on the wall, but he could not break free. Meanwhile, Volkan’s metabolic process sped up rapidly—so much so, he groaned because he could feel pudge actively pouring out of his cheeks, gullet, flanks and thighs, making his already corpulent rump a symbol of borderline morbid obesity. While his alabaster stomach bulge waned, Volkan could feel the soft flutters of belly flesh from his prey screaming hard, as they sizzled away in his hydrochloric juices, the people splashing and twitching grotesquely while his digestive swamp roiled and rose over them. His belly buckled and vibrated while it shrank dramatically, until his powerful insides corroded his very last meal until naught but aftertaste and extra weight for his curves.
That meant that Volkan could feel his hunger rapidly surging through his body again; he couldn’t help but eye Sini with gluttony and hyperventilate, the emerald dragon groaning to the protests of his stomach. Sini was a middleweight blackie with a humble plumpness to his plum-colored belly, yet because he was a 13’-tall dragon (only 7’ shorter than Volkan), he amounted to 5,500 pounds and could be Volkan’s most lush meal yet.
Volkan’s now-empty stomach howled deeply, and Volkan moaned, “You look sooo good, babe … I gotta have you … I’m gonna have you … You’re gonna make me so faaat.”
The poisoned dragon whined loudly and thrashed in his slimy bonds, but Volkan pawed forward with his ginormous rear end swaying giddily, and then pounced forward and swallowed the tip of Sini’s tail. Raucous slurps echoed throughout the cave and distended and had strength enough to break Sini’s bonds: Half of the tail bulged and slapped in peril against the swelling pred throat, and purple claws scrabbled over stone and clattering bone shards as Sini got pulled inside. The jowls of that ravenous maw stretched and rippled as peristalsis gripped the black muscled haunches and the portly gut of Sini, plunging the firm purple belly over the lapping tongue and folding wings over a long draconic palate.
Acerbic flavors granted a sweet aftertaste, giving Volkan fervid tingles as more of the warm, generously-sized dragon packed his esophagus. Sini rolled onto his back and tried to pry the green dragon’s jaws open, but only received a mischievous smirk and a “bwwOorrwwRpp” that gushed out of the clamped jaws and slanted nostrils instead.
Crude gulps peeled Sini’s talons away and nudged his shoulders into the narrowing jaws. Reeling his neck in panic, Sini finally burst the muzzle of slather with the words “Volkan, please!” but was cut off by the snapping-shut of grinning dragon chops.
The dragon gulped and slurped the last of Sini down into his stomach, bellying the poison dragon in his roiling poison paunch. Powerful belly muscles wrapped around the dragon as he squealed and squirmed with a desperate expression. Chyme dribbled and splattered on his form from above as Volkan’s gluttony issued more stomach fluids to fill the pool, and so it rose over the drowning dragon. Sini flailed and splashed as the gastric fluid speckled his black scales and stung and sizzled in several places. He tried to brush it off, but only managed to smear more along his body; he tried to gulp in air, but only managed to suck in a mouthful of the horrible, astringent atmosphere which was teeming with toxins of decaying people. The humid inhale burned his lungs and forced him to purge the remaining oxygen, at which point the poison dragon shuddered and twitched to the tighter clenching walls around him.
“HwwRrreeehhhuUuuueeewwwwphhhhhhpppPPPppp! HHhrroooOOOaaawwwrrRRrwwwrrRRRRwhhhhhhKKK!!! HrrOooOOOAOAaaaaRRRrwwWWRrRrrCCCHhhHhHH!!!”
Volkan moaned loudly as his dragon-clenching chamber sucked tighter on the suffering dragon. Plumes of noxious fumes rose from his body while scales melted away, sloughing into the increasingly greasy stew of the bubbling, burping mulch. Soon the erasure of scales revealed flesh and sinew beneath the legendary dragon’s frame: And as Sini fell to Volkan, Volkan could feel a subtle transfer of power between the two of them: The emerald dragon was inheriting the poison powers of Sini, his poisons becoming more potent by the second and practically pouring from his pores as a steamy vapor.
The dragon Volkan humped his stomach against the cavern floor to the amplified noises of borborygmi, groaning lewdly; soon, the squelching impacts of his humps turned to soft clacks, which grew harder and harder as more of Sini’s musculature peeled away to reveal the skeletal structure beneath.
Soon Volkan’s prey had a meager amount of meat left on his bones, and he had stopped struggling. Meanwhile, Volkan couldn’t stop rolling his eyes from the sheer euphoria of Sini’s mass rolling over him and amplifying his ridiculous percentage of body fat. A hefty horned skeleton floated amid the last disintegrating dragon scales. Claws and barbs drifted amongst ivory ribs, leg bones, wing bones and tail bones.
The last of Sini’s essence swirled over Volkan, empowering the green dragon: Presently, Volkan felt like he had finally engorged himself to the fullest extent, and he also sensed that his venoms were stronger than ever, even the gaseous ones. Suddenly, he felt a significant amount of bloat well up in his belly area. Although the belly had deflated to have a modestly pudgy curve, it now inflated to be as huge as Sini himself was; it had filled up again simply with all gas.
The green dragon couldn’t contain the abundant heat boiling up in him anymore; the cavern rumbled from the wet cacophony of his gut before he unleashed a nightmarish belch.
“BUUUWWRRRrrrRRRRRWWWOOOOOAAARRWRWRWRWRRRRRWWrwwRWRRRRRRROOOOOOAAAAAAOOOOaaOWOWOWORORRRRRRRRRRRRRRRBBURRRRRRRUUuuUuUUUWWRWRWRRrrrRRWWPPU UUUUUUURRRPPPppPPPhhhHHHHHppHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHurphHHHHH!!!!!”
The downright disgusting belch lasted for minutes; it continued and continued and failed to end. With the aid of the belch, his metabolic system completely digested the last bits of Sini that weren’t bone, and eructed all sorts of bones out of the evolved dragon’s maw: Giant bones piled on top of giant bones in the cave, smashing smaller ones while the pile swelled and swelled. Having absorbed the power of Sini’s noxious belches, Volkan belched loud enough to silence Sini’s most legendary belch. Sini’s greatest burp would have sounded measly in comparison. After 140 seconds, when it was beginning to miraculously become stronger instead of softer, the sheer strength of it rattled the mountain itself until the stony slopes began to avalanche outside … which brings us to the present. The belch still hasn’t ended.
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Category Story / Vore
Species Western Dragon
Size 120 x 120px
File Size 163.7 kB
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