I have two characters that are unusual for the fur community, and honestly I'm so surprised that the species that the main character for this story isn't used more often. I'll put some species info at the end of this story for those who are interested because it's not vital to the fic, but I think it's interesting to know anyway. Enjoy this odd addition to the vore scene.

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11:45. Mags couldn't contain a rough sigh as he pocketed his phone after checking it for the millionth time that night. "You could go to bed, you know." He felt frustration seize his chest at that comment from the navy-white striped liopleurodon on the couch. "Nobody's forcing you to stay up and seethe like that. You could use some more sleep anyway."

"I'm not feeling tired, Luci." He couldn't contain a snapping tone. "I didn't get my workout in today because you took the car without telling me."

"Then take a walk, dumb-ass. I don't know why you give me that tone when there's an easy fix to your problem." Mags thought about that suggestion for a moment before rising from his chair.

"Fine. Be back in a bit." The only response he got for that was a non-comical grunt. "...You're not even going to say good-bye?"

"You'll be back before I'm in bed." Mags rolled his eyes and crossed to the door, immediately feeling a sense of calm wash over him as the cool night air hit his nose. He closed the door and started a brisk jog, long tail swinging and bobbing behind him hap-hazardously as he went. Soon he was two blocks away from his house. Three. Four. After that, he lost count, as his mind started wandering elsewhere.

It ended up settling on his adopted sister. Luci. What a pain in the ass she could be sometimes. She knows how antsy and restless Mags becomes when he misses his daily workout session, and she also knows when he usually goes to it. He didn't know if she acted out of spiteful ignorance or not, but... well, what else would she have acted on?! Frustration pulled Mag's mouth into a scowl. She probably wanted him to end up on the street tonight to chat with her shitty friends without him being there for it.

This nightly jog had turned sour. Mags picked up his pace, his mind rushing as fast as his toned legs. He felt like he couldn't go fast enough, maybe a result of him wanting to escape from his building anger. Stupid sister, stupid energy, stupid friends- he was abruptly cut short from his grump session and sudden sprint by ramming into a passing fur. He was the one to knock them over rather than vice-versa, but he stumbled none-the-less due to his inertia being broken.

That was all it took for the boiling anger to knock over the pot lid. Mags grabbed the disoriented goat by the collar of his t-shirt, now picking up on the scent of alcohol. "What the hell, man? I was running and you didn't get out of my way!" The portly goat who was unfortunate enough to be walking down that sidewalk just looked at Mags with a dopey expression. "Are you even listening to me, ass-hole?!" Mags fumed as the goat remained silent.

In a rush of frustration and rather sloppy thinking, Mags shoved the goat's head into his mouth, his teeth hooking effectively onto the goat's forehead and his second set of teeth crunching down on air, seeming eager to reach the snout too narrow for it. Maybe the fat drunk would hear him better now. Apparently the inner view of Mags's thick throat was enough to make the goat start responding. "Woah, man..." That wasn't a sufficient answer for the fuming mosasaur. Mags's lower jaw lowered and raised again in a circular motion, now forcing a few more inches of the goat's head into his mouth. "What the fuck, dude... I didn't..." the rest of that excuse was cut off by a booze-scented belch that tickled Mags's throat. That was the last straw.

Mags's effectively inescapable jaw started working again, forcing the goat's flabby cheeks into his mouth, then his horns. Here Mags's second row of teeth sunk into goat fur, further securing the goat's fate as he started to struggle. "L-let's talk about this, man, I- I'll do whatever you want..." The pleas were lost to Mags's fury, the mosasaur no longer had the patience to talk. Mags's second row of teeth unhooked momentarily from the goat's forehead and his lower jaw slacked, which caused the goat's struggles to intensify, but he couldn't pull his horns out from behind the outer teeth, and Mags pulled his head in further with another jaw rotation.

Feeling desperate, the goat tried to push against Mags's chest but his hooves were caught and his arms pinned to his side. Now that Mags had his strong arms around the goat's body, he could start lifting the goat off his feet, which he did. Larger and larger swallows followed the first few, and as the goat's head passed into Mags's throat it started to bulge even wider than it did in the first place, thrashing with the struggle the goat was putting up. It was futile, and by the time Mags had gotten to the goat's shoulders he was starting to feel a bit more calm. Not calm enough to stop forcing his prey into its fate, but calm enough to start savoring the moment. Musky fur was tickling his mouth and throat, his tongue was instinctively lashing along the goat's chubby neck fluff, slicking it down for the descent. Mags didn't consider himself an active predator- he liked to maintain his chiseled figure- but the times he lost control were always unexpectedly pleasant.

This was heightened by Mags's stomach eagerly growling. Soon, the poor goat couldn't get wolfed down fast enough. Mags's snake-like jaw had no problem squeezing around the hefty shoulders and pudgy chest the goat sported, even with the arms pinned to his sides. Mags did have to slow down, though, when he reached the start of the slope of the goat's stomach to make this ordeal less miserable for himself in the long-run. After a few test bites, Mags hauled a few inches of his prey into his mouth, paused to swallow a few times, then lifted the remainder of the goat off his feet, trying to force as much goat back into his mouth before he was forced to muscle around his belly.

It was inevitable that he got to it, though. With a deep breath, Mags started to carefully work his jaw around that swollen middle, and with the first swallow, the goat's head squeezed into his stomach. Mags's sweatshirt was usually fairly loose, with about an inch of air between it and Mags's flat belly, but the goat head being rammed in certainly changed that. A few more inches down, and Mags felt his stomach brushing against his sweatshirt where it wasn't a few moments ago. The mosasaur couldn't reach down to feel yet due to not having the bulk of his prey down, which disappointed him. He'd have to get this over with soon to sate his curiosity.

Inch by inch Mags conquered the goat's rotund middle, having to pause for breathers frequently. It was lucky nobody was around to see this, because Mags was quite vulnerable with this much attention dedicated to one thing. Eventually, miraculously without any interruption, Mags felt his jaw close slightly rather than strain farther open. He'd gotten past the belly's crest. Mags adjusted his grip on the goat, now holding him under his butt, and forced the body in a good half foot before forcing his second set of teeth to sink in, a few tears squeezing from his eyes with that strain. Almost... there...

The second wind continued until Mags had finally reached the goat's pants, and here he stopped to take another breather. Mags's throat was incredibly stretched with the goat's stomach currently squeezed into it, and the goat's arms had reached the stomach, which he was now pushing into and starting to put up a second fight from within. The subsequent ache made Mags gag and groan, suddenly wanting to spit up his ambitious second dinner. His jaw wouldn't let him, though, and soon the doughy thighs and tail were being pulled in. At his slowest speed yet, Mags painfully pulled the goat further and further down- even tilting his head back and trying to let gravity work didn't help much due to his second jaw keeping his pace steady.

Mags saw black speck his vision, he felt lightheaded and woozy, along with painfully full, but with a few more heavy swallows the goat was no longer in sight... a few more after that, and Mags felt his throat start to settle back into itself. Relief flooded through the mosasaur as he could properly breathe again, and soon all of the unpleasant feelings were contained in his stomach. The goat was thrashing around, bulges forcing Mags's already lifted sweatshirt further and further up and out. Clutching his heaving stomach, Mags turned around and started walking home, a few hot burps bubbling up along the way.

What had barely taken five minutes to run to took fifteen minutes to slowly lumber back from, Mags feeling a new calm as the goat finally settled down and the aches died down as well. Cool air brushed against his exposed stomach, aside from where his hands clutched, and the sounds of crickets entered his awareness. It was a beautiful night out, and Mags was forced to slow down and appreciate it. The stars were just barely visible above the city lights- a rare sight- and the planted trees whispered beside him as he passed them on the sidewalk. Soon, Mags couldn't help but rub his hands around his distended, taut stomach, feeling a few lumps where the goat's arms poked out from his sides. The mosasaur hadn't splurged like this in weeks, and he'd nearly forgotten how good it felt to feel this painfully full.

Lost in thought and already half-asleep, the mosasaur sloppily opened the door to the house. "Wow. I think that's the longest walk you've taken in weeks." The dry tone of Luci's voice totally passed by Mags's attention. He just continued to zombie towards his room, wanting nothing more than to be asleep. As he passed the couch, his sister glanced up and spluttered in surprise at what she saw. "Mags- MAGS! What the hell-?! Holy shit, stop walking! Get on the couch, you idiot! Let me see!" Luci pocketed her phone and shot up from the couch surprisingly fast for her pudgy look. She grabbed Mags by the shoulders and pushed him onto the couch to examine his figure. "There's no way you got food that fast. Mags. MAGNUM. Hello?"

"Took out..." Mags mumbled in response.

"What? Takeout?"

"Nnnno... took out a goat on th' street." Mags paused to burp, which Luci wrinkled her snout to in response. Ew.

"Were you drinking again, Mags?"

"Nah..."

"Smells like you were."

"Drunnngk goat."

"Mmm-hmm." Luci put her hands on Mags's stomach, sort of surprised at how firm it felt. "How tall were they? How heavy? You feel like a rock right now." Mags just moaned, his head sinking into the couch. "Whatever. I'll get you a hot water bottle, man. Chill here." Luci patted Mags's stomach before heading out to a different part of the apartment, then soon coming back with said hot water bottle in hand. She laid it out so it covered as much of Mags's stomach as it could before sitting down next to him and giving his shoulder a pat. "Hey, Mags. You're absolutely unbelievable. Get some sleep, dude. And tell me when you're going to glut next time, because I want photos."

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"Uugh..."

"Oh my god he's waking up."

"Luci...?"

"I'm turning on my camera. Look at this idiot. Hey, Maggie."

"Don' call me dat..."

"Yuh-huh. Snrk- look, Perci- his sweater won't even go halfway down his belly right now." Luci tugged at the bottom of the sweatshirt for effect, aiming her phone camera at the spectacle.

"D-dude... you're making me blush." The friend on video call had covered his eyes, which only heightened the situation's comedic effect for Luci.

"Luci..."

"Ugh. I should hang up. You'd better have those photos downloaded when I see you again. Haha. Bye, Perci." Luci hung up and pocketed her phone before sliding onto the couch and wrapping an arm teasingly around Mags's doughy middle. "You slept 'till two."

Mags rubbed a hand across his face, another groan issuing from him. "Aw, shit... y'should'a... woke me for- hmmp- ugh... for my workout..." The liopleurodon laughed and pushed in with her hand, which made Mags gag as digestive juices and a bitter, musky taste raced up his throat.

"You're not even done digesting yet. Idiot. You've got to give me details, man. De. Tails. Now. I want all of those juicy bits." Mags sighed. Now he was going to have to deal with his pesky sister's teasing, AND burn off all these pounds this week...

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I hope that was a decent read. I tried to fit in as much detail about how mosasaurs eat in this little story, but in case any of it was unclear I have a video about it, too. I suggest watching the whole documentary, but I've timestamped the part where it talks about the second jaw I did my best to describe above.

Video: https://youtu.be/Ido8rhfwTs4?t=1236

For those of you who have no idea what the word 'mosasaur' is or means, here's a rundown for you.

Mosasaur is a general classification of a family of marine reptiles (a marine "version" of the dinosaurs most people know, which exclusively lived on land). Think of the word 'mosasaur' like the term 'wild cat' or 'fish' or 'shark'. It's a general term for multiple species of very similar creatures, including the Mosasaurus. Mags is a mosasaurus, a snake-like marine reptile that lived in the sea that exists where the middle of America is today. This shallow sea was a hotspot for predators that lived alongside eachother. While each filled different niches, Mosasaurs likely had the most varied diet (and, if you ask me, the most effective way of feasting). Mosasaurs lived in the same third of the Mesozoic Era (dinosaur time) as the T-Rex and Triceratops.

When picturing a mosasaur, think big snake with four fins and nightmare fueling mouths. Or don't imagine it, because you've probably seen one before in media. I don't have statistics to back this up, but if you ask me their most famous appearance was in Jurassic World. I recommend going on google images and looking one up. It might help you visualize this story better.

Sorry if this is too rambly and completely unwanted along with this fic. If it's not, I can update this with info on Mags's sister, Luci, since she's completely different. Let me know. Hope you enjoyed this.