Reaching for the Full Moon (vore story)
#17 of Standalone or short-series stories by me
Originally posted on 2023-02-18
Mark finds himself on both ends of a monstrous hunt.Word count: 1300. Contains: non-fatal oral vore, smaller unwilling anthro male rabbit pred, bigger willing werewolf prey, forced vore, role reversal.
Writing: Bad Manners
I've decided to start posting my short stories separately instead of doing compilations, but still bundle the uploads together. A bit more work to organize, but this should make it easier to find and read individual stories. Anyway! For this one, I wanted to take a fun trope from vore scenarios and flip it on its head. Though maybe I should've saved it for Halloween...
(Contains: non-fatal oral vore, smaller unwilling anthro male rabbit pred, bigger willing werewolf prey, forced vore, role reversal.)
Reaching for the Full Moon
by Bad Manners
===
A lupine howl pierced the full moon night, reaching Mark's large ears. The rabbit had been sprinting away from its source, trying to increase his distance from that terrifying call. It was bad enough that he'd decided to walk through the creepy forest trail in the darkness of night, but stumbling upon a werewolf?! How could things get any worse...?
Mark had strayed from the main path after spotting the monster, trying to escape between the trees beneath the white disc's dim light. It was bad enough that the rabbit could barely see anything; on top of it, throwing his pursuer off his trail seemed impossible. The lycanthrope was likely tracking Mark's smell, and the lagomorph's bioluminescent insides meant that running for his life with his tongue out marked him as the only light-source in the vicinity. Still, ignoring the overwhelming handicaps, Mark only cared about running for his life and making his way back into town alive, instead of ending up in a beast's stomach.
His lack of luck was compounded when he - like a side character in a slasher film - tripped on a tree root and fell. He didn't twist his ankle too badly, but it still hurt enough that Mark wasn't able to get back on his rabbit feet to continue running. All that he managed to do was turn around, looking up at the starry sky before his vicious hunter lunged at him, pinning his shoulders under its paws and his body under its legs. Mark screamed for his life.
But nothing happened. The lagomorph couldn't see the werewolf's face too well - only its large and furry silhouette. But it seemed to be staring at him, and...sniffing? Mark attempted to yell again - this time for help -, only for a huge set of claws to clasp his snout shut. The creature was breathing on him, eyeing up the rabbit. Thankfully, Mark wasn't dead yet, but what was it doing...?
The lycanthrope slowly let go of his jaws, which simply hung open in shock and uncertainty. Mark's glowing white flesh lit up the lupine face, revealing that its bloodshot eyes were transfixed on that very same light. It also let out a needy whimper before simply pushing some digits of its large paw against his tongue! It was out of nowhere, and Mark was afraid that those claws would tear his flesh, but the monster simply prodded at the salivating mouth, seemingly fascinated by it.
Maybe the pale light reminded it of the full moon - the very thing that caused werewolves to appear...?
More digits from its other paw joined the maw, and the rabbit tried to gargle a complaint, but a terrifying growl shut him down. Those claws were pushing further in, stretching Mark's mouth for more light to escape. Then, one paw started to slip into his throat! The lagomorph groaned in surprise, but the werewolf's snout simply joined that salivating warmth, its own lupine tongue licking at the flesh. Mark could feel that large muscle lapping against his own, moving up towards his palate and teeth before repeating the gesture. He tried to struggle, but the lycanthrope still kept pinning him with its weight, its intrusion into Mark's glowing maw not stopping.
The other paw joined the first in his esophagus, helping to stretch it open, before the rabbit felt that cool nose poke the back of his mouth too. This was insane! Mark had expected to be devoured alive - not the other way around...! The lycanthrope was clearly bigger than him, yet that didn't deter its forward shuffle. The lagomorph tried to cough him up, but his body reflexively swallowed it instead, helping it further along... Even if the monster seemed to be working its way into Mark just fine without his accidental help.
His neck and mouth were impossibly stretched around the werewolf's head and arms. Its thick coat of fur was brushing against the rabbit's slick insides. Mark could hear the wolfish whines inside of his own head, his natural light apparently hypnotizing the abrupt meal. It clawed deeper and deeper towards the stronger light source, bulging out the base of his neck before vanishing past it, and its broad shoulders slipped past his lips with a loud 'plop'! Somehow, not even the night creature's chest had trouble squirming into Mark.
His heart was rushing with adrenaline again. He'd been hunted, and his pursuer now did as it pleased with its mark. It was an unusual and unexpected Manner of displaying dominance, for sure...! The lagomorph didn't want to be in this situation. Granted, being the devourer was preferable to the alternative...by a tiny margin.
The werewolf sounded like an excited puppy as it burrowed continuously into the rabbit. It panted and yapped, forcefully nuzzling its snout and paws into the entrance to Mark's stomach. With its hips trying to sneak past his lips, the herbivore could see its large tail wagging. He swallowed, if only to prevent the ire of the coercive monster currently stretching and pushing its soft pads against the wall of his sensitive stomach.
All the sounds of sloshing, squelching, and groaning from his poor throat and gut added to the muffled vocalizations. His willing meal felt so big and wriggly and warm within. Mark tried to sputter all of the fur clinging to his tongue, but the lycanthrope's legs were no less fluffy than the rest, making it a futile exercise. Its large digitigrade paws pushed against the bulge forming in the lagomorph's belly, using its own body for leverage. Mark felt sick and bloated, but still he stretched to accommodate the large intruder. It was quite the workout for his organs, and the rabbit regretted ever coming to the forest tonight. Even if it wasn't wholly unpleasant, his whole body screamed 'danger' at the monster making itself comfortable inside of Mark. This was wrong in so many ways...!
Finally, the rabbit's tongue wrapped around the pads of its hind paws, slurping them along with the bushy tail. His jaws finally relaxed before a few more gulps completely removed the lupine obstruction in his mouth. Mark gasped for air, feeling those legs kicking his mistreated esophagus to arrive at the glowing white chamber. He rubbed the aching muscles of his incredibly distended midriff, but the werewolf wasn't any less active once it was fully inside; in fact, quite the opposite. It kept pushing its paws and body on every inch of rabbit stomach that it could, whining and lapping its tongue all over the glowing white surface enthusiastically. Mark's 'belly pup' was euphoric and energetic; in its head, it must have felt like being enveloped by the full moon, letting the object of its utmost desire surround it from all sides.
The lycanthrope's snout pushed against Mark's paw, followed by a muffled howl that pierced the silence of the forest. Mark had to cover his large sensitive ears at the coarse and drawn-out sound coming inches away from his head. The lagomorph felt completely humiliated, not least by the large weight inside of his own stomach immobilizing him. There was another howl right after - not coming from his guts, but elsewhere in the forest. Then another, more distant, joining the lupine harmony. And another one...!
Crap... The last thing that Mark needed right now was to deal with more werewolves! The one inside of him called out to its kin once more, and the rabbit was completely powerless to stop it. He looked at the full moon up above, cursing that night in his mind...before he felt a new set of large claws reaching for his lips.