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Vore

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Violent Delights, Violent Ends

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Written by Arian Mabe (Amethyst Mare)

Commissioned by anonymous

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Rolig snarled, the crowd scattering from the campground, though the giant anthro wolf was not to be trifled with. He would have whatever he wanted when he wanted it, not that he ever thought otherwise, snapping trees like matchsticks under his hind paws. The wolf bellowed a roar, spittle flying from his jaws, though he adored the sight of his hapless prey of humans and anthros alike fleeing before him.

"Run, run, run, as fast as you can..."

He taunted them with a low, booming tone, the kind of tone that send a tremble like that of an earthquake through the ground, as if the very fabric of the earth bent to the devious call of a macro who dominated it all. He laughed and snarled, lips curling back ominously from his teeth, the sunshine out of sorts with his fury, stomping and smashing, bloodied bodies crushed under his paws. Rolig didn't care for the lives he snuffed out, his thick fur coat bristling and hackles raised, seeing only his prey, the fact that his stomach was grumbling and rumbling, hungry for his next meal.

"Noooooo, please!"

Someone's high-pitched squeal caught his attention and he bent down, snatching up a handful of humans who had clustered together, though they might have gotten away from him if they had made their way out to the nearby lake. With the tents dotted in bright shades, they were not the best place to hide and he easily picked them out from between them, though the lake itself was not somewhere where a wolf as big as he wanted to be. Although he could wade out, it took a lot of energy to keep a body as large as his afloat and who knew whether the water there had the buoyancy to stop him sinking? It could have been a giant puddle to him or a death trap, something that the macro wolf had learned in his much younger days.

"Stupid people..."

He chortled, enjoying the moment, salivating with thick, drooling slops of saliva hanging from his maw, opening it wider and wider. The humans in the palm of his paw might have been related or they might not have been, though Rolig did not care about them - not as he tossed them straight at the gaping expanse of his maw. The cage of his teeth glistened with saliva around them, his uvula on show at the back of his throat, groaning as they landed on his tongue.

Tiny bodies, not much more than a snack. Yet a snack, however much it screamed and shrieked and hammered against the inside of his maw, could be snuffed out in nothing more than an instant. Which was exactly what Rolig did as he crunched down around them, breaking bones, snapping them between his jaws, crushing windpipes and breaking their weak, human bodies down into nice, bitesize pieces. Of course, if he'd wanted to, he could have simply tossed his head back and swallowed them whole - but where else would the fun be in chewing up his meals if he just did that? He was a wolf who liked to enjoy his food.

Once that first bite disappeared down his throat, the game was well and truly on, the wolf stomping, laughing, kicking a bell tent and ripping it from its guy lines, sailing through the air like a balloon or a float made airborne. The anthros had more sense than the humans there, perhaps scenting danger on the air before Rolig had even come close to them, though they, their anthro bodies just like his, were no match for him either.

It was like going to a pick-and-mix shop for macros - or the kind of macro wolves, that was, that had a particular liking for destruction, for bloody and gory meals that disappeared howling down their throats with many a thrashing cry. He snatched up another double pawful of shrieking anthros, one human wound up in the mix, but he did not shove them straight into his mouth that time. No... No, there were other things to enjoy too, leaning heavily into the gory bloodiness of it all, rolling them between his fingers and palms.

That could have been pleasurable, if there had not been such a size difference between them, but the crushing force of his paws was far, far too much for their puny bodies to bear. He didn't even need his claws to break their bones and crush them so that their bodes stood out from flesh at unnatural angles, some half-dead while others were still alive, reeling in horror, aware of what was going on around them. And there wasn't a single thing that any of them could do to escape the macro wolf on a rampage.

Their fates were sealed the very moment they had all set paw on the campsite that day, though Rolig didn't care about that. All he cared was for the deliciously sweet and yet still metallic flare of blood on his tongue as he dropped the crushed, mangled bodies, one by one, onto his tongue. Some squirmed, some twitched in their death throes, but all of them disappeared down his throat, right where they belonged. Someone, after all, had to fall prey to a macro wolf, for he had to eat, and there was no more to it than that.

Screams for help had no bearing on him as he snatched up pawful after pawful of anthros and humans alike, not seeing any difference between them. Sometimes he liked the humans more, because they had a little less hair on them for him to digest, but there was always that matter of clothing too, that could be annoying to chew through. He pounced on a group that appeared to have been huddled in the lee of a fallen tree, age-old by the size of the trunk, snarling and shoving all their tiny souls into his maw.

Rolig did not discriminate between race or species when it came to feeding, chewing and chomping with a grotesquely open maw on his feed. They were not lives to him, not really, nothing that could ever have mattered to a wolf, not even as he laughed, blood staining his maw, the fur around his muzzle slick and soaked with it. There was nothing quite like, to him, the crunch of his teeth penetrating flesh and snapping bone, the feel of a life given up in the clutch of his maw, lust rising even in the act of feeding.

Yet that day was not for satisfying a carnal lust of the body, as much as devouring could be considered such too, his hunger overpowering. The rumble of his gut was not to be so easily, of course, set aside, not as it yawned and yearned to be satisfied. But it would need far more than the bodies that he had already crushed and consumed to sate its yearning needs, the grumble of stomach acid churning, wanting more, wanting to be filled until he felt as if he was fat and round and bloated, well-fed for a time.

He smashed two pawfuls of anthros and humans together, rubbing them together, the "pop pop pop" of bones cracking and breaking as addictive to him as popping bubble wrap. Not that Rolig had ever found something like that suitable for someone of his size, though he understood the pleasure behind it. It was just how he felt as blood smeared across the palms of his paws, bright and stark in the sunshine, licking it off his paws with great relish.

Their bodies were playthings to him and he laughed with a deep bellow of mirth as he snapped off arms and legs, blood gushing, trickling when the body was fading more quickly. Some responded differently and it fascinated him how their death rattles came, though they were better played out on his tongue, showing him just how closer their bodies were to giving up the ghost as they eased into the afterlife. Whether or not there was an afterlife for them to go to, however, was none of Rolig's concern. He was just hungry and needed to feed, no more and no less than that.

He crunched up bodies as if they were sweet snacks, groaning around them, pushing them around his mouth with his tongue. The sweetness of their flesh made up for the bitterness of other parts of them, heads lolling and tails limp, limbs bitten off where he pleased. Rolig didn't care how they went down his throat, as long as every last one of them ended up where they belonged.

He picked up a thrashing bull anthro, though the horns would not do him any good as he grinned and simply closed his paw around the bull. The crunch resounded, surely striking terror into the hearts of many others watching, fleeing, thinking that they could escape the macro's wrath. Although the bull's head tipped forward, his spine snapped, life did not leave him for moments longer, not until Rolig crushed his heart and other organs too, fingers digging through him to puncture his lungs, shatter his ribcage, stealing the life and the soul from his body.

Like all the rest, he was tossed up in the air and straight down Rolig's throat, the wolf gulping him down and stomping on, crushing more under his hind paws. He swung and kicked down old pine trees, stomping into the shallows of the lake (but not too far) to kick over boats and canoes that some had thought to use to escape him. Of course, like all the rest, they were far too late for that, not even as his stomach started to feel a bit more sated, the beginnings of fullness seeping over him.

There were still more before him, however, for his meal, laughing and striking his paw through the water, sending furs flying, boats tipped over, tiny, pale humans struggling and flailing. The water washed off the blood from his paws, though he took in the deliciousness of their flesh even better with that in mind, crushing a group in his paws before cramming them into his mouth. That mouthful was too much for him to get in all at once but he forced them all the same, pushing and crushing, squishing them all in with both paws. Some got caught on his teeth as he gorged himself, bodies cut through with lacerations, others failing their lives in crushing, tongue working, pushing them to the back of his throat.

Yet the gulp of his throat as his stomach filled more and more forced them down, the wolf a little more tired, a little sleepier, snatching up a stray anthro that fled, though the screams were no longer present in the air. It left the lake oddly quiet around him as he lapped at the anthro, slurping up their body before neatly snapping them in two with a quick bite, stealing their life even as he satisfied a primal, instinctual need. Even a macro (or especially a macro) needed to eat, after all...

Satisfied and stifling a belch, the wolf smirked and turned towards the shore, not that far away, the trees and the campground silent and still in the absence of any living souls left behind. He was full and satisfied, his stomach a little rounded out from all the bodies he'd chewed up and crushed down his throat, though Rolig would not have had it any other way, enjoying his life as a macro exactly as he was meant to.

No one would stand up to violent delights such as his...much less when they came with such violent ends. What choice did any of those little bodies have? They did better slipping down his throat, acting as food for a predator so much larger and stronger than him that there was no other option for them. They could live as well as they died and he rubbed off his paws on his thighs, transferring blood from one part of his body to another. It didn't matter to him.

With the sun moving towards the horizon and a gorgeous sunset, the macro wolf stomped off through the forest, scaring birds from trees, seeking out somewhere to rest and slumber. After such a big meal, a good, long nap was in order...