A Good Food for Foxes
"Stories about restaurants that serve up sentient creatures are kind of the vore equivalent of the pizza delivery man porn cliche (ignoring the fact that that scenario is pretty common amongst vore fans as well), but I don't care because god damn does this shit do it for me."
A Good Food for Foxes
by: RabidChipmunk
CW: M/M, fox/human, unwilling fatal vore, cruelty, humiliation, teasing, food prep, and digestion.
"Jeez, is it just me or are we like, not welcome here at all?"
Their waiter, a lanky wolf morph with silver-tinged fur, sauntered away after having dumped two pretty sad-looking beers on the table in front of them without so much as a nod in their direction.
"I-don't really wanna talk about it now, yeah?" Mickey tugged at his right earlobe, "The article said this place has the best burgers in the city. Who cares about the service?"
"We're the only two humans in probably this entire neighborhood," Alex said, leaning towards the center of the table. "Mickey, I think this place might be licensed." He glanced around and met the amused stare of a strikingly handsome red fox. It sat with two other fox morphs, though the others had their backs turned. Morphs tended towards large and these three foxes were no exception. They were sitting, so it was hard to tell exactly, but Alex guessed they must be 8 feet tall at least, closer to 9 if you counted their pointy ears. He wasn't especially nervous around morphs usually, but he'd never been in their territory and it was hard not to feel out of place, especially if this restaurant really did have a license.
Mickey shifted a bit in his seat and continued tugging on his ear. "Sorry...I guess I should've mentioned that."
"Are you kidding me?"
"Well, you wouldn't have come otherwise!"
"Holy shit, this is so incredibly inappropriate! What's wrong with you, why would you bring us here?"
As Mickey stammered out an answer, Alex turned his gaze back towards the room. Most of the morphs were ignoring them, but as he looked from table to table he caught more than a handful of glares. His eyes passed back over the trio of foxes. The other two were now turned around in their seats and were staring right along with the first; they looked hungry. The first fox licked its lips and grinned wider, never breaking eye contact. Alex wheeled around in his seat. If this place was licensed, they really shouldn't be there. At best, they would make the rest of the patrons self-conscious about their orders and lose the restaurant some business. At worst, they might witness a feeding first-hand.
Mickey was muttering something about hamburgers and blogger responsibility but Alex cut him off.
"I'm calling it. We're leaving. I'm going to go use the bathroom, and you're going to flag someone down to close out our tab."
Alex stood up and started walking towards the men's room without waiting for a response. As he moved towards the back of the room, he made a mental note that the trio of foxes was still at their table. He was nervous about this whole affair, but those morphs in particular worried him. He didn't want to say anything to Mickey about it until they were safely out of there, but those foxes felt like trouble and he wanted gone before they had finished their beers.
The restaurant's bathroom was communal, but there wasn't anyone else inside. The urinals were all adjusted for morphs, so he was a few feet too short to reach comfortably, but the toilets themselves looked reasonable so he grabbed a stall and locked its door behind him. Alex was fuming, everyone knew to avoid restaurants licensed to sell "meat men" (he hated that term, but it really was the best way of describing them). He'd seen a feeding video or two online, morbid curiosity had gotten the better of him, but he had zero desire to witness it again in person. Best burgers in the city be damned.
He finished up and went to wash his hands. As he ran them under the faucet, the bathroom door swung open to make way for a couple of dog morphs. Dobermans; kitchen staff from the looks of their clothes. The pair walked right up to him and before he could protest, the larger one grabbed him pulled him close. One massive, furred arm wrapped around Alex's chest and pinned him against the dog's body. The morph's other hand whipped towards him and covered his mouth before he could even think of yelling out.
The second Doberman took a few steps closer; he looked vaguely annoyed. Alex watched as the morph reached into its pocket and brought out a small syringe filled with a clear liquid. It gave the needle a few taps and, satisfied, moved closer. Alex's eyes went wide. He tried to struggle and scream as the morph reached out and sunk the needle into the side of his neck, but the massive paw covering his mouth muffled any sound he could've made, and the arm around his body tightened and pulled him even closer. He felt himself sink into the dog's flesh slightly. He could barely move. The morph withdrew the needle and Alex felt a cold travel through his body, numbing him as it went. He began to go limp, and his muffled screams faded. He felt his eyes droop and his consciousness begin to slip. As he blacked out, Alex became acutely aware of the smell of his captor's fur. Ground beef. The scent of hamburgers overtook him until there was nothing else.
Alex woke up unable to breathe. His entire body was immersed in warm water and two paws were working him over with a large sponge. He wanted to scream, to thrash around, but he found himself completely unable. He couldn't even open his eyes. He felt himself being lifted out of the water and onto a rack. What felt like an array of blow driers started up full blast and the water begin to wick away. Alex felt more naked than he had in his entire life. His skin felt particularly tender and he could feel every inch of himself as the hot air flowed over him. His stomach dropped and he realized why his skin was so sensitive. He'd been shaved head to toe. Before he had time to consider this further, a pair of paws clamped themselves around his left arm and leg and dragged him off the rack. He flopped down rather hard onto a slab of what felt like wood, and the paws began to work him over with some sort of oil, starting with his feet. The paw pads were rough and their owner wasn't gentle. It hurt, especially with his skin so sensitive. They began to massage his upper thighs and Alex felt a knot form in the pit of his stomach. He could only lie there as they worked their way up his body, leaving no fold of skin unexplored as they greased him up.
The assault paused for a few seconds and Alex felt more of the oil being drizzled over him in a line from his belly to the top of his face. It smelled like sesame. The paws went back to work, traveling upwards and giving no part of him special care. The rough pads smooshed against the skin of his face and worked the oil around, and Alex found it hard not to feel like a Thanksgiving turkey. He was flipped over and the process repeated.
Face down with no control over his body, he listened to the sounds around him: clanging of metal, all manners of growls and barks, hurried footsteps, and the sizzling of open flames. The memory of what happened in the bathroom came flooding back and a burst of adrenaline spread through him. Alex knew what was happening, though he didn't want to believe it. This restaurant was licensed to serve human flesh, but they were supposed to get their meat from the factories where they grew human bodies without cognitive ability. That was the deal. They weren't supposed to serve actual human beings. This wasn't supposed to happen! There had to be some mistake, there-
Alex was jolted out of this line of thinking with a hard slap to the thigh and a satisfied grunt from his captor. Clearly the chef was pleased with his work. He felt himself being lifted once again, but this time he was placed face-up on what felt like warm ceramic. His well-oiled skin made him slide a bit as he was set down, but he was carefully nudged back into place.
Two massive fingers pushed against his eyes and raised his lids. Harsh fluorescent kitchen lighting flooded his vision and the world slowly came back into focus. Any remaining doubt about his situation was immediately erased. Staring down at him was a massive tiger morph in a Chef's hat looking quite pleased. The beast brought its muzzle down directly in front of Alex's face and breathed in deeply. Its nose was close enough that Alex felt its suction as it drew in air. The tiger held Alex's scent and closed its eyes for a few seconds. It kept them closed and let the powerful breath slowly wash out over him. The morph opened its eyes and smiled wider, satisfied.
"Table three, order up!"
The two dogs from the bathroom bent over him, and Alex felt the ceiling rush up to meet him. His view began to scroll as he was walked out onto the restaurant floor.
The door to the main restaurant swung open and shut and the atmosphere shifted immediately. It was at least 15 degrees cooler, and the sounds of the kitchen were muffled almost to the point of being inaudible. Alex's heart began to beat faster. He could only see the ceiling as he was openly paraded through the room, but he knew the entire place must be looking at him. He had seen them all staring when he was back at his table; they recognized him for sure. At least one of them had to do something to stop this. There was no way the entire restaurant would let this happen.
The wooden beams above Alex's head stopped moving, and he was lowered onto a table. Staring directly down at him was the red fox from earlier. It smirked.
"One special, shaved and oiled," said one of the Doberman morphs. "Anything else for the table?"
"Oh no, this looks perfect, thank you," said the fox, breaking his gaze to address the waiter. "I appreciate you guys going out of your way to fill a custom order like this."
"Not at all. Enjoy your meal."
The fox returned his gaze to Alex. He had never felt so exposed. The animal looked him up and down and licked his lips.
The fox looked back up. "You guys mind getting a picture of this for the site?"
"Already on it", came a voice from Alex's front. He remembered there were three foxes at this particular table.
His soon-to-be predator looked straight ahead and grinned. Alex heard the distinct click of a camera's shutter. He still lacked any control over his muscles. He wanted to scream, to struggle, to groan, anything really. All he could do was lay there like the piece of meat he obviously was.
"Uh-uhmm...excuse me..." came a tiny voice from Alex's left. "Excuse me, I-I think that's my friend. I think there's been some mistake."
It was Mickey! Dear lord, it was Mickey. He was going to be OK. Everything would be fine. Alex had never been this happy to hear a familiar voice in his life. Mickey would clear things up and get them out of there. Maybe he'd even called the police already! This was good. This was great. Things were going to work out.
"What on earth are you talking about?" said the fox.
"You have my friend, Alex, on that plate in front of you. You-he went to the bathroom about a half an hour ago and didn't come back. I...can you...I think there's been some mistake, he must've wandered into the kitchen by mistake or something. Alex, are you OK? Say something, please!"
The foxes chuckled, and one of the two Alex couldn't see spoke up. "This place is licensed. We don't know where your friend is, but you should be careful with accusations like that."
"Holy shit, I'm telling you this isn't licensed meat, this is a leaving person; this is my friend", Mickey was starting to raise his voice. "They don't sell licenses to eat people like us!"
"Is there a problem here?" This was a voice Alex didn't' recognize, but it spoke with authority. This had to be the manager. He'd see the problem and he'd make things right.
"Yes. I'm trying to enjoy my meal, but this guy is harassing us", said the fox sitting over him.
"Anything to say for yourself before I kick you out of my restaurant?"
"I know you guys serve meat men here, but this is an actual human being! There's been a horrible mistake!"
"No need to shout, sir."
"There is too a need to shout! This is the fucking definition of a god dammed perfect time to shout! I came in here with my friend, Alex, and now you have him sitting here on this table all oiled up and ready to be eaten alive by this fucking wild animal!"
There was a pause before the voice answered, "Do you have any identification? Any proof this...meat...is who you say it is?"
"What? No, of course not! Why would I carry someone else's ID? This entire restaurant saw me and him sitting together! Just ask anyone here, any of your staff!"
"That won't be necessary. If you hadn't guessed, I'm the manager of this establishment. I personally supervise the entire restaurant floor at all times from back in my office. I saw you walk in here with another man, yes, but he left about 20 minutes ago through the back door. This meat in front of you was bought this morning from Lorca Meat Factory, and I have the documentation to prove it. As a licensed restaurant, we are required by law to keep precise track of all the meat men we buy and sell. If you submit an inquiry, I can provide you with this documentation, but this is not an appropriate time or place to entertain your disturbing accusations. Furthermore, I find your tone of voice and use of slurs extremely inappropriate. I'm going to have to insist that you leave."
"You god damned murderer! You-", the sound of Mickey's voice was cut off. They must be dragging him away.
"I'm extremely sorry for the disturbance. We should've removed that man from the premises much earlier. Tonight's meal is on the house."
"Don't worry about it," the fox said, "it's really just made me hungrier. I can tell that I'm going to enjoy this a lot."
The sound of footsteps signaled the manager's departure. The morph looked down him again. "Alex, was it?"
He knew. Of course he knew, how couldn't he know? The fox had been staring at Alex like he was a juicy steak the entire time he'd been there. None of this was an accident. The morph saw something he wanted, and he was taking it.
"I wish your friend could've stayed to watch, but my buddies here are going to keep taking pictures for our blog, so he'll be able to see it all in a few days anyways." The fox gave him a wink, "I'll make sure he gets the link."
Alex's view began to spin. The fox rotated his platter around until Alex was facing the other two fox morphs. One was holding a fancy DSLR camera. They were both nursing a beer and giggling like crazy. The one with the camera snapped a few shots. Some close-pictures of Alex's face and eyes-and a few full-body shots as well. After they had finished, the platter holding him spun around again. The fox had brought his muzzle down so his whiskers tickled Alex's face as it slid underneath. The fox gave him a slow, single lick. The warm tongue slicked along his forehead, down over his right eye, and ended at his cheek. Alex got a brief glimpse of the roof of the fox's mouth as it opened over him. Dark pink ridges and two rows of pointed white teeth gave way to a view of the creature's thick tongue as it crept over Alex's eye and blotted out the view. After its tongue had slipped back inside its muzzle, the fox pursed his lips and blew air over Alex's face, teasing him. The breath flowed over the drool-slicked skin and left it feeling much cooler than before, serving as a map of where the morph's tongue had been.
The fox groaned in satisfaction, "Oh Alex. The chef's outdone himself with you. I usually prefer to eat my food feet first, to give it a chance to really meditate on its situation and to allow me to savor the range of emotions it goes through along the way, but I've noticed you're having a few issues with expressing yourself right now. So on that note, I think I'll enjoy you head first this fine evening."
The orange and white-furred face filled Alex's field of vision once more and parted to reveal its organic interior. The slender muzzle's flesh was dark pink except for a single dark splotch at the very rear of the palate that flowed into the inky blackness of the creature's throat, marking the road Alex was about to travel. The long tongue glistened with drool as it extended towards him, beckoning, pulsating with anticipation before it mashed against the top of his head. If Alex could've screamed, he would've, but as it stood he could only lie absolutely still in abject horror as the fox's thick tongue wrapped around the back of his head and its prickly teeth made contact with his face.
The animal's breath flowed over him and left him wanting to gag. He smelled the beer the fox had been drinking mixed with the organic stink creeping up from the back of its throat. The air was stale and barely breathable, but it was the only thing Alex would be breathing from now on. As the mouth opened impossibly wide to accept his head, the sounds of slicking flesh filled Alex's ears. He was already greased up from the kitchens, but the tongue still probed; tasting him and preparing him for the first stages of digestion.
The tongue pushed hard in a wave-like motion and a powerful suction pulled his head towards the back of the throat where it came to rest pushed up against the thickest part of fox's tongue. The top of his face was now forced up against the roof of the beast's mouth and entirely contained inside. The sounds of the outside world were muted and the wet sounds of the fox's excited breathing now filled his ears. It paused after the initial swallow to taste him some more. There wasn't much room for the tongue to explore, but it did the best it could, sucking on his head and crushing his face against the ridges of its mouth. Saliva was everywhere at this point, and each breath Alex took was wet and not entirely his own. The animal's satisfied groans vibrated through him as it suckled and stripped away the oil that covered him. Finally, it couldn't contain itself anymore and it swallowed a second time.
Alex's head flowed over the back of the fox's tongue and was engulfed in the folds of its esophagus. This wasn't a place he'd ever imagined he would be, but it was still nothing like he would've thought. The organ's walls were even slicker than the mouth he'd been in previously, and with no pointed teeth or rough palate to ground him, Alex felt like he was sinking. The throat's grip was tight, but it didn't hold him in place, only pushed against him, covering him in mucus and pulling him deeper into the predator's body.
Alex couldn't breathe with the esophagus molding around his face, but the fox was a pro and knew to get his prey's head into his stomach as soon as possible if he wanted his meal alive for a bit as it languished away inside of him. Overcome by a sensation of crippling fear, Alex barely even felt the animal's next set of frantic swallows. He knew we was sinking, but couldn't tell how far until he felt his face glop through a ring of flesh and into an open sack he knew must be the fox's stomach. He was able to breathe again, though his first few gulps of air were inhibited by the thick film of mucus that had formed over his nostrils. The smell inside the stomach was much more pungent than inside the mouth, but the smell of the air was the least of Alex's concerns. Still paralyzed, he could only inwardly groan as the fox continued to swallow and his head slowly dipped into the half-digested goop already inside.
As his head slowly dipped below the stomach's churning contents, Alex's attention returned to the parts of him still outside the fox's body. His hips were nearing the back of the creature's throat, and its mouth was finally able to close a bit. It gnawed on him. Its teeth pushed into his sensitive skin to coax out more flavor, and its long tongue curled around his crotch to coax him inward as it swallowed around him. Alex could feel thick beads of the fox's drool run down his legs. The saliva dribbled all the way down to his toes and began to drip gently off. His legs felt cold, especially where the saliva had settled, but were growing warmer as they were pulled closer towards the waiting gullet.
As more of Alex's body pooled into the stomach, his head finally resurfaced from the muck. The fleshy sack was fairly small, and the goop already inside was rising as he flowed into it, but it was looking as if his head would end up at about the top of the stomach, at least in this orientation. If the fox decided to lay down, all bets were off. It was weird, Alex realized, still thinking of survival even at this point. He was happy not to be drowning in stomach acid anymore, but he couldn't really imagine that being digested alive was going to be any better.
Thoughts of the stomach were put on hold when Alex realized that only his feet now existed outside of the fox's body. The swallowing paused. For a few moments, everything was calm again. The fox's regular breaths washed over Alex's drool-soaked feet, tickling them. It was almost peaceful. The animal closed its mouth around Alex's ankles and swallowed deep. The man felt his feet slip gradually past the beast's waxy lips and disappear like a piece of spaghetti inside its muzzle. With only Alex's feet left inside its mouth, the fox's tongue had much more room than before and it took full advantage of this to savor the last taste of its meal. The sloppy tongue explored every inch of his feet. It worked between his toes and pushed them against its cheeks, nibbling playfully as they were pushed around its mouth. Finally, the tongue stopped its assault and Alex felt the mouth open again. He remembered the camera one of the other fox's held, and couldn't help but imagine his predator posing for a photo. The mouth closed one last time and the familiar suction pulled Alex's feet over the back of the fox's tongue and into its throat's slick embrace. They slid down the creature's esophagus, just like the rest of him before, and eventually slipped into the stomach.
Alex was entirely inside the fox's belly. He belonged to this creature. He was fox food, already being broken down into nutritional sludge. Suddenly, the stomach walls tightened around him. Most of the air left inside rushed out and the goop covered him almost entirely. Against the growling of the stomach as it worked him around, Alex heard a feint belch; evidence of the fox's deed escaping into the atmosphere and fading away amidst the other sounds of the crowded restaurant floor.
Any questions Alex had about how long he might last inside the stomach were immediately answered as gulps of warm, drool-infused beer began to flow inside. As the liquid washed over him, the stomach's contents rose and crept up over his head. Still unable to move, Alex could do nothing as the goop rose over his mouth, then his nose, and finally covered his eyes. It seemed more cruel than necessary. He was going to die here anyways, but to drown him in half-digested slop was inhuman. Of course, the fox was most likely blind to his predicament. He couldn't struggle anyways, so to the animal he was inside of, he might as well be a piece of chewed up steak. With no control over his body, all Alex could do as he ran out of air was listen. Beyond the churning of the stomach's walls, he realized he could still hear the fox's breathing, and the faint beats of its heart. These two sounds formed a sort of perfect rhythm and enveloped him as he slipped into unconsciousness and faded away. He tasted the fox's saliva that had long since flooded his mouth. He smelled the stale, rotten goop that had now pushed its way into his nose. He felt his skin tingle as the acid began to break him down. He saw blackness.
Satisfied, the fox burped again, this time covering his mouth with a paw to stifle the sound. He gave his stomach a hearty pat and grinned for the camera that had been documenting his entire meal. He leaned back in his chair and continued to rub a paw over his distended belly, imagining the man inside. He had no way of knowing whether or not he was still alive, but he hoped that he was.
"Very nice, Alex," the fox whispered to his churning gut. "You humans really do make a good food for foxes."