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When he'd been walking over, Hank's garage door had been up. Before Joe could even see inside it, he'd heard a voice shout out "Bye Dad! I'm walking over to the gym!" The voice belonged to a lean, nearly naked young man in a corner of the garage with a washer and dryer, half-hidden by the parked truck. The college-aged man was tossing a nice polo and slacks into the washer, leaving him in just red boxers as he foraged through the dryer for something else to wear. Not sensing the quietly approaching predator, the guy had wiggled his butt in the air as he hunted for a pair of shorts that weren't too dirty.

Joe had recognized the opportunity life was providing him yet again and seized it. He'd easily overpowered the smaller male, yanking the boxers off before shoveling his meal down his greedy gullet. The guy had been scrumptious; skin slicked with salty fear-sweat, the faint flavor of apple-scented body wash, and the unique taste of virile balls. Anybody coming or going would have spotted him immediately, but as usual things just... worked out.

The opportunistic predator had even taken a few minutes to lean back against the dryer, pull his hard prick out of his jeans, and yank a quick load out while enjoying the unbeatable sensations of a panicked younger male struggling against his deadly gut (now stretching out his college sweatshirt). The squirming belly provided the perfect surface to rub his cock against, and before long he was shooting ropes of cum onto the "My Child Attends Northern University" bumper sticker of Hank's truck while belching out most of his prey's air. That had tightened up Joe's belly around the doomed man, greatly restricting the struggles inside.

Without a further care or worry, Joe had opened the door and strode inside to join the party, letting his confidence and jollity cover for his girthy paunch. He'd claimed the rocker next to a cooler of beers and used a nearby quilt to hide the movements of his prey even further. Every few minutes the squirms inside would start fading away and Joe would gulp down more air. Why snuff the lad out quickly when he could enjoy the internal massage for hours?

By half-time the opportunist could tell by the struggles picking up that his stomach acids had started in on Hank's kid in earnest. The beers he slowly sipped barely even helped. There was too much padding and background noise for any of the man's cries to reach Joe's ears, but he imagined they probably fell along the same lines his countless other prey had screamed out in quieter locations. "Let me out!", "It burns!", "Someone help!", or his personal favorite: "I'm not food!".

Despite the load he'd shot in the garage, snuffing out his buddy's bloodline right in front of him was making Joe horny as hell. Joe would generally fuck anyone and anything, and he'd clocked the side-eye stares Hank had made at the large dick-print in Joe's jeans when the predator had entered. Sensing another opportunity, Joe casually flirted with the middle-aged man throughout the second-half even as his stomach juices ate through the younger one's skin and exposed muscle and bone.

Joe stuck around after the game ended, waiting for the other guests to leave and enjoying the faint struggles of his meal. Soon enough, Hank was on his knees in front of the rocking chair and sucking cock for the first time. The father of 1 had no idea his barely breathing son was less than a foot away, dying in the stomach of the charming man he was cheating on his wife with.

A Dream Come True

When Greg realized he had the winning lottery numbers, his first thought wasn't "No more student loans!" or "I can quit my job!". For him, it was "My relationship is saved!". Greg had been dating a stud he knew to be out of his league for almost a year now, and his anxiety had been pointing out sign after sign of his boyfriend getting tired of him. Less interest in what was going on in Greg's life, more evenings spent out with co-workers without Greg, and romantic travel plans delayed further and further. It had basically just become the Dom/sub sex play that had started their relationship. But with this... with this he could save it all. A win this big meant he could spend his time properly devoting himself to Nolan.

He immediately tried calling his boyfriend, and after ringing 3 times was sent to voicemail. Greg wasn't overly concerned, this had become a regular occurrence. Nolan was a busy lawyer and was probably in a meeting with a client or something. Greg sent a text instead of leaving a message he knew wouldn't be listened to, just asking Nolan to call him as soon as possible, that it was urgent, and then went back to his own less-important work.

It was 3 hours later that Greg dropped everything to answer Nolan's call. Nolan's deep voice had started distracted (or disinterested?) but quickly focused in as Greg whispered the good news, not wanting co-workers to overhear. For the first time in weeks Nolan seemed genuinely excited and happy with Greg; the lawyer ordered the younger man not to say or do anything until they met at Nolan's house that evening before hanging up with a recently-rare "Good Boy". They each finished out their remaining workdays daydreaming of what was coming (but with very different daydreams).

After pulling into Nolan's driveway, Greg made sure to doublecheck his appearance in the sun-visor's mirror. He considered himself moderately attractive for a 32-year-old officially out of his twink years. He had short blond hair that he tried to style like an early Zac Efron, an average body that used to be more toned (back when his younger metabolism ignored his food choices), and stood 5'10" on a good day. He was nervous and giddy knocking on Nolan's door; Nolan had his key to Greg's place but still hadn't given one in return, but maybe that would change soon...

Greg's breath caught just like every time Nolan opened the door. The handsome lawyer was still in his expensive gray suit with only the tie loosened. Nolan was 6'1", 45 years old, broad-chested, had shiny black hair slicked back, and possessed an ever-present bulge snaking down the well-tailored leg of his suitpants (something he used to his advantage in court). Greg giggled at the neck-kisses he received as he slipped by his handsome boyfriend, another thing he'd been missing. As soon as they'd settled on the couch, drinks in hand, Nolan was demanding to see the winning ticket. The lottery had rolled over unclaimed more than a few times, so the prize pot was an undoubtedly life-changing amount.

Nodding in satisfaction, Nolan pulled a packet of papers out of his briefcase alongside one of his fancy pens. That mesmerizing voice assured Greg that the safest way to claim the money without revealing his identity (and all the problems that invited) was to create an LLC administered by a trusted associate at his firm, and have the "firm" present the winning ticket and receive the funds. The legal-ese flew right over Greg's head, but he happily signed and initialed everywhere Nolan pointed; he missed the parts Nolan would sign later to make himself an equal beneficiary, and the sole receiver of funds if something happened to Greg.

That night the two went at it just like when they'd first started dating; Greg was completely focused on giving Nolan maximum pleasure; Nolan was dominant as always, directing his younger boyfriend in the proper ways to worship the studly lawyer once again. Greg loved it all; kissing toes... being smothered under that muscular ass... giving a tongue bath to musky armpits... nearly passing out from being skull-fucked... and finally having Nolan's humongous member spreading his hole open til he felt like he'd tear in half, a hand wrapped around his throat the entire time.

After shooting his 3rd load of the night into Greg's slightly swelling gut, Nolan collapsed on top of the smaller man, letting his furry chest completely cover Greg's hairless back. With his mouth right next to Greg's ear, the lawyer whispered to him. "Let's take that vacation we've been putting off. First class to Amsterdam, seeing the sights, sampling the cuisine, and showing off at the sex parties. Phone your bitch of a boss that you quit, start packing your things, and we'll fly out after my buddy collects the winnings for you. What do you say?"

It was a dream come true, as Greg forced out from beneath the weight of his boyfriend's heavy body. He'd never been to Europe, but Amsterdam was the place he'd always wanted to visit first. Of course it was the wrong time of year to see the Tulip Festival, but they'd still be able to visit the monuments, the red light district, and even the sex parties his most adventurous friends had murmured about.

The next few days passed in a blur. Greg was just a bit too nice to tell off his passive-aggressive supervisor the way Nolan had suggested, but still took enormous satisfaction in letting the woman know (by email) that he would not be returning to work effective immediately, and not to contact him ever again. The LLC was formed and the winnings collected. Just like that the young man found himself sipping champagne in an airline seat comfier than his recliner, with his impossibly-handsome boyfriend right beside him, relationship saved and an Amsterdam Adventure only hours away.

There was a car waiting for them at the airport that whisked them away to a posh hotel. Up in the hotel's most expensive suite, Greg luxuriated naked on a massive, cloud-like bed; Nolan researched the events going on that weekend from his own spot in the in-room Jacuzzi. Both letting their minds wander about all the fun that would be had. Suddenly an idea struck Greg. In a rare bout of assertiveness, he told Nolan that he already knew exactly where they should start. A little taken aback by his meek boytoy wanting to take the lead, Nolan decided to see what he had in mind.

They took a taxi to one of the most well-known gay leather shops in Europe. Greg was like an overexcited puppy, darting from rack to rack and looking over the options before waving over a shop attendant and pointing at Nolan (who had barely had time to enter the doorway and start taking in the 3-story establishment). The normally dominant lawyer found himself thrust into a spacious dressing cubicle by the quiet shop attendant before a variety of outfits were hung next to him. Nolan was pleasantly surprised to have the handsome attendant stripping him completely out of his travel clothes and buckling him into the softest leather he'd ever touched.

Though the shopkeepers didn't even bat an eye at it, the eyes of every customer were drawn to the stud as he was brought out for Greg's inspection. For his part, Greg just tried not to drool as his boyfriend stood before him looking every inch like he'd stepped out of a Tom of Finland comic. The Muir cap and riding boots were shined to perfection; a leather shirt that perfectly showed off his pecs and narrow waist; lambskin gloves that would look perfect wrapped around a throat; and of course an exquisite pair of chaps that showcased Nolan's python and bubble-butt. Some of the other shoppers drew closer, whispering to each other about the man's package and physique. Nolan preened at the attention, his cock inflating to a semi to more appreciative murmers.

After strapping a leather jock onto Nolan, grabbing a few other pieces like a leather kilt and apron, and getting himself a more simple outfit of the softest leather shorts and a perfectly fitting bar vest, Greg proudly brought his man to the counter and paid for it all. He imagined the whispers were about how lucky he was to have such a man on his arm. He was even rewarded with a deep kiss from Nolan, a rare show of public affection. They left the store wearing their new leathers, with Nolan enjoying the attention on the street and Greg growing increasingly embarrassed as the surge of confidence began to dwindle. By this time it was already evening, so they grabbed some chips on the street before making their way to a nearby leather bar.

It was there that Nolan made another of Greg's dreams come true. Somehow less than 40 minutes after entering, the newly wealthy sub found himself on his knees, his mouth being passed between Nolan and 3 other leather Doms, servicing them all to the best of his ability before having a rain of cum drizzle down onto his face and new vest. Being put to use like that always gave him a happy, satisfied glow, but it was taken to a new level being done in such a public space; they'd barely left the front area, so anyone walking in had been able to watch.

But as Greg leaned against a bench to catch his breath and recover, the glow started to fade again. He watched Nolan start to saunter out through the crowd, flirting with the hot, younger locals. A hand on the shoulder here, a caress of the ass there, and Nolan had Greg feeling some real jealousy. Still, he tried to hide it as best he could until they'd taxied back to the hotel. If the cab driver had any thoughts about the cum covered American man and his sweaty leather daddy, he kept them to himself.

Back in the hotel room, Nolan put his own plan into motion. He'd planned on giving Greg another day or two to enjoy his dream vacation, especially after that leather shop stunt had actually caused a brief flare-up of affection, but feeling that insecure gaze hounding his every step in the leather bar had reminded him all too well of why he'd already been planning to dump the clingy man. He'd only kept Greg on long after it'd stopped being enjoyable because he hadn't found someone better to take the guy's place yet. Nolan hated not having a worshipful sub to drop his load in/on whenever he pleased.

The lawyer had been planning to slowly ghost the younger man, but the lottery win had changed everything. It wasn't like Nolan was hurting for cash, but access to a pool that big would mean being able to start his own practice, living a much more high-class lifestyle, and having the means to indulge his darker desires more easily. One of those dark desires had only entered his mind after representing a recent client on a murder charge. The man's wife had been declared missing by her sister, but no trace of her had been found. Police had always been suspicious of the husband, but it wasn't until a few bleached, strangely softened bones had been found in the bushes beneath their balcony that he'd been formally charged.

Of course Nolan had been able to get his client off; all the evidence was completely circumstantial. It was during celebratory drinks after the Not-Guilty verdict that the tipsy man had confided to his lawyer how he'd churned his cheating wife up and shot her over the edge of the balcony. At first scoffing at the idea, Nolan had ended up plying the man with more booze until he'd learned how it could be done. The idea had stuck in his mind ever since, but it certainly wasn't something he'd try in his "own backyard"; he'd never end up in the same circumstances as his client.

And now with the appropriate papers filed, vacationing in a foreign country, and an irritation that was causing his nuts to itch, Nolan decided it was finally time to indulge. He'd already bred Greg twice at the leather bar after the initial bukkake, so it wasn't too much work to throw the smaller man onto the bed and slide back in. He wanted his nuts as empty as possible, and didn't hold back when pounding another load into the now sloppy hole.

He wanted Greg worn out, and this last fuck certainly achieved that. By the time Nolan's giant dick slid out of the now gaping hole, still dripping cum, it was all the smaller man could do to flop over onto his back and pant. Now Nolan's balls were empty, and as he psyched himself up for the next step, the mental image of melting his sub boyfriend into cum excited his cock to be hardest it had ever been. Nolan started focusing while pulling Greg's foot to his cum-lubed cock-slit. Just like he'd been warned, the initial stretch was excruciating, much like someone bottoming for Nolan without any prep would experience. But right alongside that pain was a rippling frisson at seeing his cock stretch out with the shape of Greg's foot.

Greg was still pretty out of it and covered in sweat, so he didn't notice the wet warmth on his foot. He didn't notice it on his other foot either when that was pulled in. It was the strangled moan from Nolan that finally got him to raise his head, just as his knees entered the angry-purple head of Nolan's impossibly stretched cock. The unfortunate man spent the precious time he could have been struggling away by just trying to comprehend what he was looking at.

His hairy, hunky boyfriend, stripped down to just that sexy pair of chaps, was inching his swollen cock-head over Greg's smooth, skinny legs. A continuous flow of liquid oozed out around his limbs, further lubing their progress into a shaft now as wide as Greg's entire torso. Nolan had been slowly and quietly crawling up the bed as the cock crawled up Greg's legs, but the predatory lawyer jolted forward upon seeing his doomed boyfriend coming out of the post-fuck stupor. One hand clamped down around Greg's throat and squeezed tight to prevent any cries for help. The other one grabbed both of Greg's thin wrists and yanked them down.

It was actually a familiar pose for them, cockvore aside. Nolan had always loved overpowering Greg and making him just a little scared, and Greg loved it just as much. The younger man felt his own cock shoot up to a raging erection at the situation even as his head swam. Nolan was squeezing at just the right spots on his neck, and Greg felt himself lose consciousness before he could even ask what was happening...

Greg woke back up with a snort and a head toss. He was surprised to find that instead of being pounded into next week (the normal way he'd come back from a good choke-out by Nolan), he was somehow neck-deep in his boyfriend's cock. He tried to figure out what was going on (again), looking questioningly into Nolan's handsome face in search of answers, but all Greg received from the bigger man was a sneer. A hand palming the top of his sweaty head was applying a steady force to sink him the rest of the way into the sticky wetness covering the rest of him.

As the hungry cock continued creeping over Greg's face, its owner felt another thrill at the look of betrayal in Greg's eyes, before they too disappeared from the world. Nolan let himself collapse onto his prey-filled cock, hugging it with his powerful arms and legs and enjoying the squirming inside. He humped his member into the silk sheets while massaging downwards with his limbs.

The one-sided breakup continued with Greg's outlined form sliding feet-first into Nolan's nutsack. The stretchy skin bulged out with its new short-term resident before springing back as tightly as it could. Nolan bit into a pillow to muffle his howls at the new, overwhelming sensations. That fucking client had warned him about how starting off would be, but had neglected to mention that stuffing an entire person into your scrotum was an even more intense combination of pain, pleasure, and intensity. It was all the new pred could do to white-knuckle his way through it. Still, there was definitely no going back now, not without dire consequences.

So it was that both Dom and sub struggled through their first (and for Greg, last) vore experience. It was a relief for Nolan once his ex was fully out of his shaft; it slowly returned to its normal size even as he stared down through his legs at his testicles. For some reason he'd thought they'd be rounded out. Instead, every inch of scrotum was wrapped around the curled up form of Greg, with almost every feature fully visible through the sack skin entrapping the younger man. Nolan could tell his prey was still wriggling a bit (which felt amazing), but the space was so tight any real struggles were impossible.

Nolan was glad there was no one to see the silly little maneuvers he had to make in order to flip over to his back without twisting his rather heavier testes, but he eventually managed it. He'd expected to need music to drown out any screams coming through, but the only noise he heard was the soft whimpering of his former "good boy". Apparently the man was submissive enough to have already accepted his situation, or held the inaccurate belief that Nolan would have a change of heart. But there was no chance Nolan was releasing his prey now.

With the intensity of the initial stretching done, the lawyer was finally able to lay back and enjoy the amazingly pleasurable sensation of an entire man filling out his nuts. He rested his hands behind his pillowed head and used his feet to massage over the form of Greg, soothing the doomed man a bit. As he drifted off from the exhausting experience, he wondered if there was any air in there...

Unfortunately for Greg, some air had come in with him and more seeped in from the shaft. Enough that he was still conscious when pred-sperm started trickling all around him. At first it just felt hot and wet. But the longer it coated his skin, the more he felt a pins-and-needles sensation. For a few minutes he actually felt some relief from the uncomfortable pressure and cramped position. But as time went on, he felt more and more odd. Like he was... less somehow. His brain was fogging up, and when he finally tried calling out to Nolan all that came out was a glurpy moan. Still, it seemed to have brought back his former lover's attention.

Feet roamed over him once again, and strong hands started rubbing and squeezing at him, testing for something. Initially he took comfort in it... right up until one strong squeeze of his wrist ended with a splash. His hand was just... gone! Nolan continued breaking him apart, piece by piece, until all that was left solid of Greg was his head and torso. The last thing he felt was that powerful hand start to grip his squishy skull...

Epilogue

It was mid-afternoon the following day. The bi-weekly sex party translated to "The Horsemen and their Knights". If you were determined to be only a knight, you had to pay an expensive cover. If the measuring device at the door showed you to be a Horseman, you got in free. The doorman gave a rare smirk when the newcomer lifted his leather kilt to be measured. Cock-preds were rare enough, but one with a nutsack still full of digested prey... well... this visitor was sure to be popular.

Diego was certainly sad to be going without Kerri; the stunning woman was the best thing that had happened to him in years, and he’d been looking forward to new adventures with her. But part of what made her so wonderful was how supportive she was of his recently discovered, bicurious nature. Part of their plans had been to have their first “Devil’s Threesome” with a hot Spaniard or Italian Stallion so he could explore alongside her. Amazing girlfriend that she was, she’d given him her blessing to experiment while away (so long as he recorded the experience for them to enjoy together upon his return). This formed the next link in the chain.

He remembered Kerri enthusiastically drilling him on what kind of men he found attractive. Diego had blushed after admitting that her Uncle Harry was who had first made him question himself, something that had taken her by surprise. Harry and his wife Pamela had stayed at their place while visiting the City; Pamela had taken Kerri out shopping, and Harry had thought nothing of hanging out naked while it was “just us guys”. Aptly named, Harry had thick, chestnut-brown body hair from the tops of his shoulders to the tufts of his toes, though nothing atop his shaved head. The stocky man had a hefty beergut but a decent amount of muscle. Though only soft, the man’s cock was already as long as Diego’s was when fully hard, and looked to be even thicker. When Diego’d sat next to the sexy older man on the couch, something about the sights and scents had caused butterflies in his stomach, an unwanted erection, and a red-zoned heart-rate. He’d tried to play it cool, and nothing had happened, but he was sure his face had visibly flushed, and the strangely hungry eyes Harry occasionally flicked his way hadn’t helped.

Once he’d arrived in Madrid, the young American spent the first day exploring, sampling the local cuisine, and trying to get ahead of jetlag by popping a sleeping pill and going to bed early. It was the second day that saw him agonizing over what to put in his newly-created Scruff profile. He spent most of his lunch texting back and forth with Kerri to help him decide which pictures to use. By the time he was ready to bring it Online, he was already back in his hotel room and soaking his aching feet. He’d been overwhelmed with solicitations within minutes (half of which he couldn’t understand). After hours of back-and-forths, dropped threads, and second-guessing himself, he’d settled on a handsome bearded Spaniard with a kind face and patience in their chatting. They’d made plans to meet in a square about a kilometer from his hotel to talk, feel each other out, and maybe go to a bar (or hotel) from there. On his way, Diego had gotten lost twice already and arrived to the square nearly 15 minutes late (the final link in the chain).

Unfortunately, the little square he’d arrived at was completely empty. Diego looked down at his phone to pull Scruff back up, and saw that “J” was supposedly nearby and had been online just minutes ago. When he looked back up, the square was no longer quite so empty. From seemingly out of nowhere, a tall man had appeared just in front of the young New Yorker, dressed in sunglasses and a trench coat (both rather out of place for the balmy summer night). Diego was of average height and build, a respectable 5’11 and 180lb, but this European man (Italian? Greek? It was hard to tell in the dim streetlights) stood at least a head taller, with much broader shoulders. The stranger had been gripping the long trench coat closed with both hands, but as soon as he’d secured Diego’s attention, the older man had flung the coat open and flashed his naked form. New York City had its fair share of flashers, and Diego and Kerri had been “exposed” to a couple themselves (though usually “aimed” at Kerri more than Diego). It was always some ugly guy with a tiny cock and poor hygiene who ran away as soon as Kerri had screamed. But this one…  

Seeing how stunned his target was, The Flasher released the coat and rested his hands behind his head, allowing the American to drink it all in. The only other clothing he wore were expensive leather ankle boots. Hairy calves led up to thick, powerful thighs. The furry pecs and shoulders showed off a nice bit of muscle without looking like a gym-rat. His hips were thrust forward as if to showcase his cock and gut better in the streetlight. The cock hanging down was… well… MASSIVE. Veiny, thick as a red bull, with a wide helmet-head that the foreskin rested behind. Somehow still only appearing half-hard, it hung down 2/3rds of the way to the man’s knees over big fuzzy testicles. But even that incredible member couldn’t pull Diego’s eyes away from that… impossible belly for more than a few moments.

The curved dome jutted out at least a couple feet from the Flasher, casting his cock in partial shadow. It was covered in fur and featured a treasure trail going all the way from his pecs to his pubes. The gut’s shape seemed strange, rounded along the front with bulges at the sides. But most startling of all was the way the stomach was swaying from side to side, even as the Flasher stood still and posed for his “admirer”. Diego’s brain was still short-circuiting trying to figure out how to react when he saw the imprint of a hand bulge out the side of the belly for a few seconds before disappearing back into the subtly roiling flesh.

Even as his mouth hung open in shock, the manly musk coming off the Flasher was just starting to invade the young man’s nostrils. Diego took an involuntary step closer, following the scent and getting a closer look at the older man’s body. His brain started to empty out as his eyes tracked a bead of pre-cum dripping down from the head of the girthy kielbasa. He felt compelled to drop to his knees in front of the older man. The Flasher smirked down at Diego, lightly bumping the tourist’s head with his warm belly before motioning his head towards a nearby alley. The man strode confidently into the dark with trench coat flapping, not even looking back to see if Diego would follow.

Not that the Flasher need worry; chasing that manly musk, Diego rose and started stripping out of his clothes while lurching after the man. The New Yorker’s brain was empty of all but foggy lust, and he was acting entirely on animal instinct. He followed his ideal man halfway down the alley where no light shone, stumbling and continuing on all fours, not caring about dirtying his palms or scraping his knees. Even without light, Diego’s nose led him right to the scent’s strongest source: the predator’s crotch. The hirsute stud had leant back against the stone wall, rubbing slow circles into his squirming belly as he felt the tourist’s questing nose bury itself in his slowly swelling nutsack. He let out a quiet moan of pleasure at the dueling sensations of prey in his belly running out of air and the musk-drunk young American licking the sweat from his balls.

Flashing was his own special hunting technique; he’d always had extra-potent pred-musk, but something about flinging his trench coat open on a hot night shocked any thoughts out of a prey’s mind before wafting his pheromones over to fill the newly-vacant space. The suffocating bearded man in his gut had been standing in the square all alone when the Flasher discovered him. His signature move had stunned the handsome guy speechless, and shoving his target’s nose into a hairy armpit had finished the job. The doomed prey had stripped there and then, and the predator had barely gotten the chance to scarf him down and dip into the alley before a lost American tourist wandered into the square.

Diego felt like he was in a fever dream. He was living out his fantasy of serving a dominant, hairy older stud with a sexy belly. Tasting balls and cock for the first time. Huffing up the smell of pure manliness. Drinking pre-cum right from the source while a noisy belly pressed down on his head from above. As Diego’s empty mind allowed him to suck the now footlong member without any concern for gagging or breathing, the Flasher let out a thunderous belch that evacuated all the remaining air from his stomach. Everything contracted around the prey inside that killer gut. If the lighting had been better and someone of sound mind had been there to see it, they would have witnessed the skin pulled tight around the frantic convulsions of a terrified man in his final few minutes. The Flasher gripped the kneeling tourist’s head and began forcefully thrusting his cock down the younger man’s throat, eager to shoot his load before the dying meal stopped squirming. He just barely made it in time, stifling a scream as his orgasm ripped out of him.

Diego shot his own comparatively modest load onto the alley stones hands-free as the older man flooded his gut with what felt like 30 thick cum shots. Even as his vision started to dim from being held down at the base and unable to breath, something about the post-nut clarity and a new breeze flowing through the alley actually began to clear his head. The American began to struggle against the man, trying to shove his head off the massive meat snaked down his throat. Once free and finally able to get a gasp of fresh air, Diego immediately began hacking up globs of cum and spit, clearing his airways. When he finally had his breath back, he looked up to see that not only was the Flasher still erect, but that gigantic cock in front of his face had swelled impossibly larger. It was hard to tell when looking at it straight on, but the helmet-headed glans now seemed much wider than his own skull with a giant, yawning urethra; the shaft behind it was nearly as thick. Diego felt a powerful hand once again palm the back of his head. Last time it’d been used to force him down on the Flasher’s cock; this time it was to force him down into it.

As the older predator gasped at the always-intense stretch of a prey’s head being thrust inside his glans, he readied himself for the tourist’s inevitable struggles to start. He was experienced enough to have recognized the signs of Diego coming back to his senses. So as soon as the American’s arms reached up to flail, his own more powerful ones shot out and grabbed them by the wrist. He wrenched the arms up and back and was gratified at the pleasurable vibrations of his prey crying out in pain. Thrusting his hips forward while relaxing his muscles allowed him to get all the way down to the young man’s shoulders. With practiced breathing, the Flasher slowly inched his cock down over the widest and most difficult part of most prey. Every futile squirm brought him a shiver of pleasure and burble of more fluid seeping out to lube entry. With the shoulders and upper arms securely packed into his shaft, he was able to release the tourist’s wrists and wipe sweat off his forehead.

A quiet chuckle escaped the Flasher as he observed his meal’s feet scrabbling against the ground, inadvertently pushing the American deeper instead of aiding in escape. He reached down, running his hairy hand along the underside of his mighty cock until it found the screaming face of Diego bulging it out. The sadistic predator stroked it in a gross mockery of a lover’s caress before hunching over and giving a powerful spank to the younger man’s bare ass. He loved riling up his ball-food on the way down; it added an element of fun and struggle. More spanks followed as he methodically ingested the American, alongside pinches, tickles, and smacks. Once his ravenous cock had reached the waist and pinned hands, the Flasher hooked his thick middle finger into a surprisingly pre-lubed asshole. This elicited another smirk as the European guessed at what the man thought was in store for him this night.

Using that finger and his powerful arm, the Flasher tugged his prey-filled cock upright before clutching the ankles of his prey’s flailing legs with his other hand. He gave a playful nip to the American’s toes while adding another finger to that tight hole. Scissoring the two fingers in and out had the prey’s little cock hard again in no time, comically rubbing up and down the head of the Flasher’s incomparably larger one. The man took a sadistic pleasure in taking that opportunity to shove the smaller man further inside, causing the smaller cock to bend painfully as it too was swallowed up. From there he returned to a steady flow of taking the tourist in, inch by inch, still fingering the virgin ass with his hand wrist-deep inside his own dick. By the time he’d reached the knees, his hairy nuts had already swelled enough to reach the stony ground of the alley.

The predator released the ankles and pulled his other hand out of his cock with a wet *schlucking* noise. He moved them to embrace his beloved monster-cock, stroking himself while urging the prey’s outlined form further and further down towards his hungry sack. Just as the feet disappeared, the tourist’s head and shoulders started shoving through into the hot, humid ballsack, stretching the skin out obscenely. The Flasher moved his arms behind his head again, focusing on finishing the meal with hip thrusts and internal muscle clenches alone. The feeling of his ball-food make the final transition from shaft to sack was the same kind of triumphant relief as clearing his airway of prey with a final swallow. He took a moment then, standing up tall, trench coat flapping in the light breeze, humongous nutsack filling the space between his legs, still massive cock bobbing in the air.

But of course scrotum skin is much thinner than the walls of fat and muscle around a stomach. As soon as Diego was able to get his head out of the standing levels of cum and catch a breath, he screamed out for help. Who could blame him? The doomed American was crammed in against two small boulders, covered in cum that made his skin itch, and was barely able to breathe. None of what little light reaching the alley filtered through the sacskin, and that same skin was like a wet sheet all around him, tangling him up and making it hard to breathe or struggle effectively. But even at this time of night, an experienced predator knew better than to allow those screams to go on for long.

The Flasher slid down the wall and actually started lightly bouncing onto his own ballsack, putting pressure downwards and continually dunking Diego’s head into the acidic pool of cum. Flexing more internal muscles caused his testicles to start squeezing the prey from the sides, battering the poor man over and over. Drowning in cum is a favorite phrase of many a bukkake-fan, but in reality is a horrible way to go (or so the Flasher assumed, based on how the muffled screams and struggles swiftly became more and more frantic). After a few ecstatic minutes where he had to work hard not to cum again, the movements inside slowed and finally stopped entirely. The predator kept his hands behind his head as he continued to churn up what remained of his prey. It was a wonderful mix of erotic and soothing to hear the sloshes of a body dissolving into cum mix with the *glorps* of his stomach processing its own meal. He stayed like that for a good while, just letting his body do its thing and allowing his mind to wander.

             “NATE!” Startled out of his trance, Kirk’s head whipped over to see his other son rush forward to rescue his little brother. Only to be halted when the Santa raised a stern finger and uttered out a single “STOP” that seemed to echo through the room and slam down on Kirk and Micah. Kirk realized he actually couldn’tmove even as Micah’s momentum caused the young stud to fall to his knees a few feet away from Santa and Nate. For his part, Nate seemed unaffected by Santa’s magic commands, thin body squirming this way and that to try and escape the monstrous cockslit trying to claim him, tears glistening on his cheeks, mouth sealed shut with some kind of candy-cane-colored paste.

             Shaking his head at the futile attempts of both brothers, Santa reached a hand up to palm the top of Nate’s head and use it to shove the high-schooler down another foot, bringing his cock-prey in chest-deep. The powerful older man shoved himself up to standing, impossible cock bobbing up and down before settling at a 45o angle. Kirk hadn’t been able to tell while the man was sitting, but Santa actually stood at an imposing 7’2”. That deep voice rumbled out across the room again:

             “Now that you’re all here, let’s get on with it. If any of you could speak, I expect you’d all be making a big batch of ‘but WHY Santa’, so I’ll settle that real quick before we move on. Every year, all the good little boys and girls (and young adults) are graded on a point-system to determine if they land on the good list or the bad list. As life got more complicated, we had to add a ‘curve’ to the point system. Normally this would mean about a 50/50 split, or even favor the good list. But every once in a while, we get some… outliers. These ones are so incredibly good that they ruin the curve, forcing a bunch of kids down to the naughty list, and generating complaints that I have to deal with. Both of you boys have been riding that line for years now, but Nate here just had to go and seal the deal by donating all his savings to help an uninsured classmate pay for chemo. Fucking RIDICULOUS!”

             Santa paused here to smack Nate upside the head, growling in annoyance at the 18-year-old’s good deeds causing him more work.

             “So now I need to eliminate Nate to normalize the data; may as well take care of Micah while I’m at it, he’s nearly as good, even if he’s almost aged out of the data-set.”

             The evil (or maybe good?) Santa walked around the frozen college jock who was shivering with the fruitless effort of trying to break free from the magic preventing him from heroically saving his family (honestly, proving Santa’s point that he had to go too). Unable to turn and see what was happening, Micah was surprised to feel something warm and musky plop onto the back of his head. Kirk unfortunately had a clear view as Santa used his white gloved hands to spread his fat ass cheeks, squatted down over his kneeling son’s head, and finally dropped his weight down onto it.

             For a moment, everything seemed to pause; then a disgusting *SQUELCH* filled the air as Santa’s puckered asshole dilated open as it spread across Micah’s scalp. It must have felt incredible, because Santa’s wrathful expression relaxed for the first time as he let out a moan of appreciation. The moan resonated through the room like his words, and for some reason vibrated Kirk’s own balls in an un-fatherly way. At the same time, that colossal cock bobbed in the air again as some internal muscles tugged a silently sobbing Nate deeper, his struggling form creating fire-lit bulges inside the huge shaft. The young man’s eyes locked on those of his father, causing Kirk to quietly sob as he watched another few inches of his beloved son disappear forever.

             Santa continued humping the air to pull in Nate while shimmying himself down until his donut-ring had contracted around the base of Micah’s thick neck. Here Santa encountered his first difficulty, because Micah’s broad shoulders were proving a trial even for the ancient being. Nate, with only his own neck and head remaining in the Christmas air, continued to silently plead for his daddy to save him like always, but it was not to be; with a triumphant bellow, Santa’s magic prevailed as he finally succeeded in compressing Micah’s shoulders and forced his gaping asshole over them. The slick urethra slid closed over Nate’s face even as Santa bucked up and down on Micah’s chest, enjoying the human-sized dildo and the prickly, buzzed texture.

             Kirk could only pray this was a nightmare he’d wake from. His mind had started to lose its grip on sanity as he mentally giggled, picturing his younger son moving down Santa’s candy-cane on his way towards some jingle-bells, all while his older son was moving up the now Jolly man’s chimney. Somehow Santa knew what he was thinking, as the older man’s ecstatic face took on a mischievous glint. “Come and assist me”echoed out and into Kirk’s brain, and the father of two doomed sons slowly stepped forward towards the Spirit of Christmas, cock inexplicably hardening.

             Following the undeniable urgings in his brain, Kirk knelt before the powerful Saint Nick and began massaging his younger son’s struggling form down the massive schlong. Santa moaned at the firm hands rubbing up and down his sensitive shaft even as he lowered his squat to Micah’s waist. The ancient predator slowly waddled backwards until he was perched on the easy-chair once again. This allowed him to take his time contracting his pelvic muscles to suck in the college kid while the whammied father forced the last of Nate into his rapidly expanding nut sack.

             Kirk couldn’t stop himself as his hands started rubbing the scrotal skin all over his trapped son, unwillingly spreading caustic semen all over the 18-year-old’s body. His eyes kept darting between the struggling form in Santa’s sack and the legs being slowly slurped up Santa’s hungry hole. Tears still running down his face, he thought that he’d have to watch his boys be digested this way, but the frustrated Santa had something worse in mind.

             “Ride me” bounced around inside Kirk’s head. The impossibly huge cock had shrunk to a “manageable” 2 feet long once Nate had slid out of it, but Kirk was still manically terrified as his body clambered up Santa and perched atop the massive mushroom-head. The agony was indescribable as the bewitched father’s virgin ass forced itself down the mammoth Santa cock, aided only by the tiniest bit of Christmas magic as Santa restored order by removing two outliers and their father.

             Kirk’s muscular thighs were being put to use as he squatted on the arms of the sofa-chair and repeatedly slammed his burning ass down to the base of the shaft skewering him, the jostling aiding in poor Nate’s cum-digestion. It was a lewd parody of the classical mall-santa imagery, with a naked father “sitting” in Santa’s lap while Kringle got his own wish. Santa was enjoying the impossibly-tight DILF ass nearly as much as the feeling of sucking the last of Micah through his bowels, his muscle-gut slowly swelling as the kind-hearted college sophomore filled it. Santa surprised the weeping man by leaning forward and embracing him, those white-gloved hands stroking his back and sending magical tingles throughout his body.

             “You know, I think your genes might just be too dangerous to allow you the possibility of siring more statistical anomalies. Better to remove you from the equation too…” The powerful words chilled Kirk even as the burning in his ass and tingling at his back spread across his body. His body still tried to obey Santa’s previous demand even as his legs started to flow towards the bouncing ballsack they’d been hugging. The pained groans that had been escaping his clenched teeth reduced to garbled whimpers as his face started to lose its chiseled definition and his neck blended into his torso. His skin started feeling thinner… more sensitive… and his furry stomach (which had been bristling up and down Santa’s own hairy belly), started to send waves of pleasure through him as he felt Micah’s struggles in Santa’s gut massaging him nearly as pleasurably as Santa’s gloves that were now stroking up and down his chest.

             His brain was slowing down and turning to mush, but Kirk still managed to piece together that Santa was merging him with that huge cock now fused inside his ass. He was becoming part of Santa, to the point that as his lower half merged with Santa’s magic sack, he could actually feel his precious angel dissolving into spunk inside, and found himself wishing the young man would digest even faster! Meanwhile, he could tell his other son’s final struggles against the iron gut of Santa had reached their climax as the ancient spirit belched out the last of the air inside and he felt the desperate final flailings against his own gut, which had transformed almost completely into a much hairier shaft for Santa.

             And Santa’s climax happened all at once. With a final clench of his balls, the too-good troublemaker’s softened body finally burst into cum at the same time the older brother gave up the ghost and expired in his gut. He could feel the immediate re-balancing of the list in his old bones, finally scratching an itch that had made him so irritable he’d digested 3 slacker elves before heading out to correct the problem. The mashup of pleasurable feelings and relief overloaded Santa’s brains, and with a “Ho… HOO… HOOOOOOOO!!!!”, cum (and the last of Kirk’s mind) exploded out of his cock, painting the ceiling, walls, tree, and carpet with Christmas cheer and cummified do-gooder.

             Leaning back in his recliner and stroking his cock, Max was re-watching his favorite vorno for what must have been the 50th time. It was one of the last scenes “Burt Big-Balls” had filmed before retiring from the industry. The young DILF had only worked with the studio for about 3 years but had still churned out over 100 scenes of cockvore (and 2 analvore scenes from before he’d found his niche). Most of those had ended the scene with the big-name prey actor struggling in his nuts and a cutaway to a massive cumshot (and the actor safely allowed to escape off-camera).

             But in the vorno industry there were always prey-boys willing (or forced) to take the final plunge, either as super-fans of a specific Pred, a way to go out “in-style” that others would jerk off to, or as a way to make one big paycheck that could be passed on to loved ones. Burt had his fair share of those videos as well, especially towards the end of his run. Those had always been Max’s favorite scenes. The churn-enthusiast repeated Burt’s lines by heart as they were voiced on screen, edging himself as he watched the twink’s outline make the switch from acted struggles to panicked flails.

             “That’s right, boy, struggle for me.”

             “Fuck, how’s it feel being trapped in my Big Balls?”

             “I can feel you getting squishier in there.”

             “Won’t be long before you’re just another load of spunked-student!”

             “FUCK, I’M SNUFFING YOU OUT WITH MY BIG BALLS!”

             Max managed to hold back until Burt’s load blasted out and white-washed the walls of the set. His own load was miniscule compared to the gallons coming out of his obsession’s cock. And Max WAS obsessed. At 29 years old, Max was well used to getting his way. He’d been born into a well-off family, gone to an Ivy League school where he made valuable connections, and possessed a natural business-sense that let anything he touched turn to profit. He could buy just about anything he wanted, and could pay other people to do anything he didn’t. So when he had worked his way through Burt Big-Ball’s filmography and realized there were no more videos to consume, he found himself frustrated in a new way. But Max wasn’t one to just sit with frustrations like that…

             Three weeks later, Robert Ramses II had just settled in to watch some college football when he heard a knock at the door. Muttering to himself about the interruption, he heaved his muscular bulk up off the couch. The 45-year-old man opened the door to find an average-looking man with slicked back black hair dressed in a very expensive suit. For a moment, Robert worried he was about to be served a lawsuit. But then he saw an all-too-familiar look in the man’s eyes. The older man groaned internally as he realized it was another star-struck fan of “Burt”. He had to repeat himself twice before the guy snapped out of his daze.

             “Wha… what?” asked Max, shaking his head.

             “I said, can I help you with something?” repeated Robert, getting annoyed.

             “YES! I mean… yes! Hi Mr. Ramses, my name is Max Dillard, and I am the new owner of ChurnEmUp Studio. Would it be alright if I came in so we could speak about an opportunity?”

             Robert was surprised that someone who couldn’t be older than 30 was now running that studio. He opened the door wider and stepped to the side while ushering Max inside, admiring the man’s perky ass as it passed beneath his gaze. He led them to the living room where the game was still playing, motioning for Max to take a seat on the well-worn sofa while he plopped down in the easy-chair. He couldn’t help a small smile as he shut off the tv and allowed Max to ogle the hot DILF bod.

             Robert’s oversized, baggy sweatpants might have hidden his powerful legs and bulge, but the tight wifebeater he wore left little to the imagination. Even decades after his military service, he still kept a regimented gym schedule. His hairy torso started at broad shoulders and muscular pecs, detoured past musky pits to the arms featuring football-sized biceps, before tapering down past a fuzzy tummy to visible cum-gutters. He might not have a 6-pack anymore, but the tall DILF was still “Fit as Fuck” (as his son put it). The goatee had become a full beard and the crew-cut had grown out a bit, but the face had only grown more handsome.  After giving his guest a few more seconds to drool, Robert snapped his fingers at the man and gave an “eyes up here” gesture. Max had the decency to blush at being caught staring, but boldly launched directly into his pitch.

             “So, Robert… (Can I call you Burt? No?), I recently acquired ChurnEmUp studios as an investment. As you may have guessed, I’m quite a fan of your work, and I certainly wasn’t the only one! Before I go further, may I ask why you left?”

             Maybe it was the flattery and lustful staring, but Robert found he didn’t mind explaining. “Back then, I was already married with two young kids when I started. My military service was over and I had no desire to re-enlist, but we needed more income than my wife’s salary could provide. We’d always been pretty kinky swingers, and she’s the one that actually suggested vornos as a way to make some spending money.” Robert got a fond, faraway look in his eyes as he spoke about his wife Lila. “Neither of us really expected my stuff to take off like it did. The money got better and better, especially with those sex-toy deals. But then it happened… Lila had gone out with friends one night while I was still filming, and she was returned as a trashbag full of cum on our doorstep. Gave the babysitter quite a shock!”

             Robert got a bit misty-eyed talking about how he’d lost his wife. “Suddenly I was a single father of 2 young boys. I knew I needed to be more present for them than I had been, and the way my wife went… I just didn’t want to be in that field anymore. A Pred buddy who’d retired from the industry had opened up a new business, and when he heard about my circumstances he offered me a job on the spot. The money wasn’t quite as good, but that plus the residuals let me get back on my feet while I found something more long-term.”

             Robert got up to get a beer from the kitchen. When he returned, he found Max standing and looking at the family photos peppering the living-room walls. As Robert settled back into his comfy chair, Max pointed at a photo taken just a few months ago.

             “Are these your sons?” asked Max.

             “Yup. That tall one with the blond curls is Bobby; refuses to go by Junior. He’s in his Sophomore year at State. And the smaller one is Jamie. Still in High School, but he’s sharp as a whip!”

             Max seemed to be making a mental note of that for some reason, but continued his pitch. Apparently ChurnEmUp had hit some hard times recently with the advent of OnlyFans-type services allowing Preds to film their meals without the studios. Sure, the production value was usually much lower, but they were able to put out content at a much faster rate and keep almost 100% of the profits for themselves. As the new owner, Max wanted to shake things up and make the studio profitable again. And to do that… he’d need a big draw.

             Robert could already see where this was going. “Let me guess, you want me to come out of retirement for a special one-time only show?"

             “I mean it wouldn’t have to be one-time only, that’d depend on you, but it would DEFINITELY be special!”

             Max went on to elaborate how he’d make it the biggest thing in vorno. It would initially be a Pay-Per-View livestream, advertised ahead of time. People would be able to purchase pints of churned-up prey, shipped to them in limited-edition branded thermoses. And the three fans who bid the most by showtime would each get a one-minute live, filmed phone call with the Pred himself as the prey digested inside his sack. Robert had to admit he found the ideas intriguing. It wasn’t that money was especially tight right now, but with Bobby in college and Jamie only a few years away, the generous profit percentage and appearance fee would make a very welcome nest egg; plus it was just the one time… right?

             Two weeks later, “Burt” strode onto set in just a robe and socks. He was pleasantly surprised when the small production crew greeted him with a round of applause. Some he’d worked with before (he knew for a fact that cameraman had gotten more than a few splashes of cum to the eye), and some were new. The set was actually pretty similar to his own living-room, complete with comfy easy-chair in the same shade of grey. When he looked around for his co-star, Max assured him everything was on track. The co-star would be a surprise for the fans as well as him. All Burt knew was that it would be a “Consensual Non-Consent” scene (pretty common for fatal vorno scenes from studios), and that he would be playing the blindfolded birthday-DILF. Discarding the robe, the star settled into the easy-chair.

             When the director called Action and the live-stream began, Burt’s ‘husband’ entered the scene wishing him a happy birthday. Burt hid a smirk; he’d already guessed that Max would be filling that role himself. Fortunately, the younger man looked better naked than in a suit, with some muscle tone that hadn’t been apparent when clothed. After a bit of back-and-forth porn-dialogue about how he had a birthday surprise for Burt, Max tied a blindfold over his eyes that cut off all vision. Burt heard Max leave the stage to fetch the “surprise”, and spent the time getting himself turned on; his last cockmeal had been a full decade ago, and the thought of a struggling meal finally getting churned up again had his cock bobbing in the air. What Burt couldn’t see was the posterboard of text being shown to the camera:

             “BURT DOESN’T KNOW IT, BUT HIS HUSBAND WILL BE FEEDING HIM HIS OWN SON!”

             Nearly all of the viewers and crewmembers assumed this was a porn thing. After all, it’s not like the studio could get away with doing anything actually illegal! What only a select few accomplices knew was that the college jock being dragged on set was Burt’s actual son, Bobby. Max couldn’t have said WHY it had to be Burt’s own son, but something about it just felt right for the star’s return to vorno. They’d tracked down Bobby’s dormroom and kidnapped the 19-year-old that morning, and now the handsome blond was naked, struggling against zipties, and screaming into a gag.

             If Burt was startled by the desperation in his prey’s muffled shouts, he didn’t show it; he just made his trademark smirk while telling Max that his surprise sounded like a real struggler. Max agreed while forcing Bobby’s head into the wrinkled skin of the nutsack he’d come from. With his mouth gagged, Bobby couldn’t help but inhale a major dose of Pred musk. Even the straight lad felt himself getting a half-chub at the overwhelmingly masculine scent, and his struggles slowed as his face was smothered in scrotum and rubbed back and forth. Burt moaned aloud at the feeling, and felt himself slide right back into his porn persona, improvising dirty dialogue in that sexy bass voice as it came to him.

             “Fuck yeah, rub his face into my hungry sack.”

             “Show that preyboy where he’s going to be churned up into daddy’s next load.”

             “Yeah, keep inhaling my musk, kid.”

             “My Big Balls are going to love breaking you down.”

             “Alright, time to put that prey where he belongs.”

             At that signal, the camera moved to focus on Burt lifting his massive cock up to nearly vertical (putting the cockhead higher than his own), while off-screen a beefy production assistant lifted the musk-drunk Bobby and princess-carried him up a stepstool set out by Max. The experienced PA waited for the cameraman to give the OK before feeding the jock’s feet into the gasping urethra. Even the PA was surprised at how greedily the killer cock took in its prey as it slurped up Bobby’s thighs in just one “swallow”. Max hurried to replace the PA in supporting the sluggish youth’s back, allowing the cameraman to zoom out again and capture the entire scene:

             A true DILF relaxing upon his easy-chair throne, powerful hairy body on display, massive hairy sack sitting between his legs like a bean-bag chair, and a dick as thick as most men’s torsos leaking an unending stream of precum onto the floor. The DILF’s son, shaking off his stupor and struggling again, was being fed to that hungry cock by the DILF’s happy husband.

             Burt’s was having sensory overload. Feeling “unwilling” prey squirming its way down his shaft again made him realize just how much he’d missed this feeling of power. He was using his great big fucking cock, to complete consume a younger, smaller man. With every flex of his cock-muscles, the muffled screams of his prey grew louder as true panic set in. He could almost make out words like ‘Stop!’ ‘Dad!’ and ‘It’s me!’, and mentally applauded his young co-star even as the lad’s waist slipped into the slick, tight shaft of his cock.

             The real surprise was that as he felt the lad’s abs get slurped in, the screams turned to sobs. That was unusual; most of the prey actors could at least scream convincingly, but they were still into the situation. Crying on command was usually beyond them though. Had the actor changed his mind partway through? It wasn’t unheard of in the vorno world, but it’d never happened to Burt.

             As he felt the bound hands try to push against his dickhead and slow the consumption, he felt some pity for the man. On the other hand, something about the struggles being REAL made his nuts itch even harder. This wasn’t playacting… he was really dominating and overpowering a weaker man, and soon he was going to snuff the man’s life out and melt him down into cum. All that potential wasted, just so he (and the 22,459 viewers currently watching the stream live) could get off to it!

             Max had backed out of the shot, letting the powerful cock handle Bobby’s weight. At this point all that remained was the boy’s arms, shoulders, and tear-streaked face. Max nearly shot his own load hands-free as Burt sealed the deal. The DILF made his famous smirk, crooned out “Say goodbye, boy”, and slurped his son’s head in with one flex, then the arms with another. The entire wriggling form was encased in cock-flesh as Burt growled out his pleasure. But as good as the struggles in his shaft felt, they were going to feel three times better in his ballsack.

             Tens of thousands of viewers leaned closer to their screens so they could make out the terrified features of Bobby travel down that sexy cock and reappear pushing out the skin of Burt’s sack. A few hundred viewers shot their loads early the first time Burt clenched his Big Balls hard, fully outlining Bobby’s body as the scrotum clung to him like a second skin. The massive testicles battered the jock as sticky semen coated his entire body.

             Max made his reappearance and removed Burt’s blindfold, whispering “Happy Birthday, stud. You have a call on speaker…” as the DILF groaned out in ecstasy. Burt hadn’t felt this incredible buzz in a decade, and it was blowing his mind. He looked at Max, uncomprehending, until Max mouthed “Fans!” and pointed at an off-stage speaker. It was like playing Operation while getting a tattoo, but Burt made himself focus to give his special fans the experience they’d paid for. He turned on the charm and made sure his voice had the deep, basso rumble.

             “This is Burt.”

             “Oh… ohmygodohmygod it’s YOU! I’m a huge huge huge fan! For YEARS!”

             “Glad to hear it, son. How’ve you liked the show so far?”

             “AMAZING. I can’t believe we’re really seeing you again! You’re even sexier than before!”

             “Ha, thank you boy. Time’s almost up, anything I can do for you?”

             “Oh god, um… uh… can you clench your Big Balls again and say ‘this will be you someday Tanner’?

             Burt obliged, running a hand down up and down his furry chest while squeezing his sack tight again and repeating words to the camera that made a 23-year-old cum from 450 miles away. The call clicked to the next, and Burt greeted his second big-bucks fan the same way.

             “This is Burt.”

             “Hi Burt, long-time fan, first time caller! I’m Ralph, just starting as a cockpred; what’d it feel like taking that blondie in? Do different prey feel different going down? Do you prefer willing or struggling?”

             He had to chuckle at the fan trying to get all his questions in at once before time ran out. Burt hadn’t known his prey was blond; young blond men were his cockfood of choice, though he couldn’t say why.

             “Hey there Ralph, congrats on starting an amazing journey. The blondie felt amazing. I’m guessing he was curly from the way his hair tickled my shaft on the way down, always an extra pleasure. Other than size, most prey give the same stretch going down, though anything that adds texture (like curly hair, cock piercings, or furriness) is going to feel extra good. And I definitely prefer them struggling. Good luck out there.”

             Burt addressed the last bit to the camera while clenching again. Bobby screamed into his gag at the repeated mastication and tingle of cum on his skin. His dad’s nuts were giving off a smothering heat that had him sweating like crazy. The only benefit was that the zipties were weakening. Just a little more and he should be able to get his hands free and remove the gag. From there he could either get his dad to let him out or claw his own way back up the shaft… or so he hoped. He was feeling weak already...

             Burt immediately recognized the third caller’s voice as that of his friend and former boss, the one who’d helped him leave the industry in the first place. He only had two questions.

             “Hey Burt, it’s Don Deadlydick here. I can’t believe they actually got you back! Does this mean you are returning to the vorno industry for real, or is this a one-off? You have my support either way, man.”

             “Wow, good to hear from you Don! You know, before this [*CLENCH*] I would have said it was a one-time thing. But that feeling [*CLENCH*] of breaking a guy down [*CLENCH*] into nutslop [*CLEEEEEEEEENCH*] is just too good! Being a Pred will definitely be part of my life again.”

             “Good to hear man! Those sexy nuts deserve to feast! And how does it feel to be melting your boy Bobby into jizz? Fuck, that’s so fucking hot!”

             Burt and Max both froze, staring at each other. Burt’s mouth had dropped open. Max had the sudden realization that tricking a DILF into swallowing his son with his cock might not have been in the best interests for self-preservation. And Bobby… Bobby’s zipties had finally melted away, but he could already feel the deadly jizz working deeper and deeper into his skin. The jock felt… less somehow, as if he was sweating himself thinner and thinner. He tore off the now-threadbare gag and cried out to his father.

             “DAD!!! IT’S ME!!! YOU HAVE TO GET ME OUT OF HERE!!! I DON’T WANT TO DIE IN HERE!!! PLEASE!!!”

             The voice had been muffled by the cummy walls of his scrotum, but Burt still recognized his son’s voice pleading for rescue. His mind revved up from a stall-out to overdrive, considering possibilities and consequences. And for the first time in a decade, Burt chose to put himself before his kids. He’d been good for so fucking long, didn’t he deserve something just for him? Wasn’t there some deep meaning to melting his son back into cum? Didn’t the fucker feel FANTASTIC scratching at the walls of his ballsack?

             Without taking his eyes off the camera (and Max, quivering beside it), Burt started rhythmically clenching his sack again while massaging it with his socked feet. He felt his persona take over, and the dialogue just flowed out as he continued digesting his firstborn into spunk.

             “That’s it, son, struggle against Daddy Burt’s Big Balls.”

             “Fuuuuuuck, it felt so good putting you back where you came from!”

             “Go on, boy, keep fighting, you’re not going anywhere until I shoot you out as jizz.”

             “That’s right Bobby, your dad is going to snuff you out with his nasty nuts. I’m not going to save you. I want you to suffer in there.”

             “It’s so hot seeing your screaming face pushing out the skin. Keep screaming as you churn, son.”

             “You’re getting softer and softer, kid. Is that your elbow? I bet if I squeeze just a bit more… [*splursh*] Fuck yeah, you’re breaking apart in there!”

             Word had spread rapidly, and another 9,000 voraphiles had paid to join the live stream and witness the hottest Cockvore Pred breaking down and smelting his son into cum. Countless loads already painted chests and tissues as they listened to the DILF degrade his co-star alongside the squelches of cum-digestion. But some managed to hold their loads, determined to shoot at the same time as Burt. And that time was quickly approaching. Burt motioned towards Max to bring over the empty 10-gallon water jug (the type seen in offices everywhere).

             “That’s it, Bobby, not [*CLENCH*] long left. Just a few more [*CLENCH*] squeezes. DIE for me son [*CLENCH*], fucking die for your hot fucking daddy! [*CLEEEEENCHSPLOORSHHH*].

        The unlucky kid had shown up for his first day at the station and found Garth doing an equipment check on one of the trucks. Bare-chested and wearing only his yellow suspender pants, the bearish predator had turned to look the new recruit up and down. The slim black man had looked to be about 22 years old, with a runner's build. It'd been effortless to offer the guy a look inside the firetruck he'd be assigned to, which had quickly led to the man getting unwilling assigned to Garth's gut. It wasn't the first time the hirsute man had enjoyed a struggling meal at his place of work, and it certainly wouldn't be the last. The predator wouldn't even need to cover anything up; he could just say the recruit had never shown up. He'd gulped the rookie headfirst, enjoying the vibrations of the screams and squirms on the way down his throat and chest towards his killer stomach. Just as the last tasty bit of black man passed down his throat, his phone made the chime for a facetime call.

        Leaning back against the firetruck's bench seat with the pile of clothing next to him, Garth saw it was Adam calling. Initially he was going to decline it, before his horned-up brain decided on a bolder plan of action: he accepted the call. He was freeballing in his suspenders, and was already leaking precum from the combo of feeble struggles in his gut and taking a video call while actively snuffing out a promising young man. As the videos popped onto the screen, he kept his own frame centered on his furry bare chest and bearded face. Adam had set his phone on its stand in landscape mode so Garth could see the father's whole body (wearing only a pair of black boxers) laying on his bed and looking into the camera. As they traded the usual pleasantries and tales of their respective weeks, Garth was stroking himself over his pants, turned on by sexy body of Adam and the just-audible screams of the doomed rookie.

        It was an explosive belch (stealing the young man's remaining air away) that caused the phone to slip out of the fireman's grip and drop to the floor of the firetruck with the camera facing up. Garth immediately reached to pick up the phone, but the camera was pointing right at his bloated gut as the suffocating man pressed harder than any previous struggle, and the outline of a screaming face and hands showed up against the taut skin of his hairy stomach. "Wha... what IS THAT!?" barked Adam in surprise at the view. By now getting the camera pointed back at his face, the older man played innocent, replying "What was what?" but unable to keep a smirk off his face. For an undetermined amount of time Adam didn't say anything, just processing what he thought he'd seen while he felt his heartrate speed up.

        "Would you... would you point your camera down a bit?"

        Garth considered what to do for a moment before turning his phone into landscape mode and slowly lowered it. Adam got a view that he'd normally save in his mental spank bank of his (ex-)brother-in-law panning down his muscular pecs. Then it continued down to an obviously squirming stomach, a massive erection tenting the suspenders, and a bundle of discarded clothes partially in view but obviously too small for the giant man. There was no denying what Adam was witnessing: the outlines of hands and feet pressed out against the fireman's gut in a panic, but slowing down; the churning noises emitting out just barely failed to cover the sound of a man screaming for help. Garth kept the camera still, letting the young father witness as the struggles slowed almost to a stop before swallowing down fresh air. With the camera pointed at the gut's renewed squirming, Adam couldn't see the malicious grin spread across the predator's face. Garth had been watching as the younger man's bulge had grown into a roaring hardon in his boxers.

        With Garth's next belch, the struggles inside reached a new peak, and a damp spot spread where the head of Adam's cock stretched his boxers. This time the serial killer didn't renew the air supply, instead hauling his hefty hog out of his suspenders and stroking it against the curve of his prey-filled belly. He timed his orgasm to just as he could feel the rookie get snuffed out, shooting rope after rope of pearly white jizz all over the underside of his stomach. That set off Adam, who filled his boxers with his own load as he moaned, the cum visibly seeping through.

        From then on, their calls were much more explicit. Garth called the young dad every time he had prey in his gut (and once in his balls), narrating what was happening in his belly while they both stroked their rock-hard cocks. Sometimes he made it last longer, swallowing down air and belching it out over and over until it got to the point the guy was melting away while still conscious. Other times he actively snuffed the unfortunate soul out with hard clenches of his abdominals. Even their facetimes without someone dying were full of Adam wanting to hear all of Garth's stories of devouring weaker men and ending their lives and futures. When he heard that Garth had raped and snuffed out the man who'd killed his wife (Garth's sister) while driving drunk, the widower felt a savage satisfaction at how painful it had been for the college kid.

        It was during one of these story-telling sessions when Adam confided that he'd been fantasizing about being present during one of the consumptions. "Oh yeah? You want to feel the squirming in my gut as some poor schmuck is melted into fat and muscle? You want my fat cock plowing your tight little butt, resting my prey-belly on your back as I do just so you can feel my killer stomach churning him down?" This lusty comment had actually made Adam cum hands-free, and Garth knew he was only a step or two away from fulfilling a desire he'd had since his sister's funeral: devouring and churning up his nephew Ryan.

        A month before the boy's 18th birthday, Garth broached the idea of a camping to celebrate and introduce himself to his nephew. He left out any mentions of his darker plans, and Adam readily agreed. Adam was horny the entire month leading up to the trip, though every time they were supposed to have their weekly call, Garth had postponed due to some emergency or other. This was part of the fireman's plan to keep the daddy pent-up to the point of insanity before making his move. When the birthday arrived, he'd been greeted at the door by Adam (with a tent already visible in the young father's khaki shorts) before sweeping his delicious nephew up into a big bear hug; he'd waited for Adam to be looking elsewhere before taking a big inhale of the lad's scent. Garth could hardly keep his eyes (and hands) off the birthday boy as they rode in his Jeep. He was already imagining the sounds his nephew would make once (un)safely tucked away in his gut.

        After making it to the campsite (one he knew would be nearly deserted of other campers), the experienced older camper shooed father and son off to the lake while setting up the tent and supplies on his own. His jaw nearly dropped when they returned an hour later, both in their birthday suits. Garth had to resist the urge to taste his nephew there and then; the young man was exactly the kind of boy he enjoyed snuffing out, with ears too big for his face, a pert butt, short black hair, and just a bit a belly. He quickly recovered and stripped himself naked, and kept his hands occupied with various grab-ass flirtations with Adam when Ryan wasn't looking (and sometimes when he was). Once it got dark out, they all sat by the campfire Garth had started. The older men put Ryan in charge of cooking and assembling the s'mores while talking in hushed tones. Adam had quickly gotten a half-chub at what Garth whispered in his ear.

        "Remember that fantasy you had? We're going to make that happen while I'm in town. Every. Single. Part." He'd emphasized his words with his large hand squeezing the younger man's ass. Out of the corner of his eye, Garth noticed Ryan staring at them with a chub of his own. The bearish man laughed while pointing it out to Adam and whispering "Looks like the apple doesn't fall far from the tree..."

        Soon enough it was time to turn in for the night and put his plan into action. While Ryan slept on top of his sleeping bag, Garth zipped his bag into Adam's and pulled the man to him. A large box fan covered much of the noise of them feeling each other up and furtively kissing, but it wasn't until they were certain Ryan was asleep that Garth pulled the young dad's head down to service his King-Size cock and balls. Before long the fireman was pumping a load down the DILF's tight throat while feeling his own legs painted in cum at the same time.

        Adam fell asleep shortly after that, while Garth bided his time. When the predator felt he'd waited long enough, he slowly undid the zipper of his sleeping bag, pulling it back off himself and leaving some of Adam's bubble-butt exposed. Just like the older men, Ryan had never put any clothes back on after the lake, and now lay face-down with his cute ass sticking up and tempting the older man. For a moment Garth considered starting there and tonguing the sexy thing, but decided against it; if the kid's dad woke up at that point, the whole fantasy might be ruined. Instead, he stretched open his jaws and carefully fed Ryan's feet into his mouth.

        Garth refrained from running his tongue along the birthday boy's feet, as the ticklish feeling might wake him too soon. Instead, he took a hardy gulp and felt the delicious tootsies tickle his throat as they started their descent into him. Next it was the young man's calves filling his mouth before making their way down too. It was when he was almost to the tasty butt that Ryan started to stir, and the uncle contained a laugh when he realized the boy was trying to shuffle deeper. Once he'd stretched his mouth around Ryan's hips, he couldn't help but run his tongue all over his nephew's soft cock, side-to-side over the balls, up and down the crack, and around and inside the tight little hole. It was so delicious he couldn't help but let out a rumbling sound of appreciation that startled Ryan awake. Gulping hard, he snapped his hand over the boy's mouth to muffle any cries as he sped up sending his nephew down his throat. Each subsequent swallow squeezed more of the young man in, and the flavor was simply divine. Almost too soon, he had reached the point of shoving Ryan's head into his mouth. He muffled any noise by tasting all over the crying face, before giving one final orgasmic *GULP* to send his nephew down to his final destination.

        Garth stayed laying on his front even as the peristalsis massaged the last of the man into his hairy belly. He felt the doomed lad's initial struggles re-awaken his erection. He turned over onto his side and rubbed the outline of his nephew through the stomach walls. When Ryan's hand made an imprint, the predator amused himself by meeting it with his own hand and pressing back. He could hear the confused and frightened young man calling out through the thick walls of fat and muscle and chuckled at the perversity of the boy asking his father and uncle for help. The experienced pred had taken a digestive aid after dinner, so he knew his stomach acids were already in high gear. He took a sadistic pleasure imagining how painful it must be for Ryan and how pieces of his nephew were already being eaten away. Every squirm from inside made his balls twitch, and he knew he needed to get his fat cock inside "daddy" before he came just from the agonized struggles.

        The burly man hoisted himself upright and onto his knees before shuffling over to Adam. While his son had been getting eaten by a monster, the dad had thrown off the rest of the sleeping bag and was now on his stomach, dreams of Garth fulfilling his fantasies already getting him hard again. Adam woke up with a moan as lube-slicked fingers made their way into his hole. He heard a shushing noise as the fingers began scissoring inside him and getting him prepped for what he knew was an extremely girthy cock. The younger man pushed back onto the fingers while covering his mouth to keep from waking his son. Soon enough he felt the fingers pulled out and what must be a baseball bat pressing up against his still-tight hole. The entry was all Adam could focus on, causing him to miss the noises coming from his trapped, suffering offspring. It was only once the thick member had made its way deep inside the DILF that Garth let his prey-filled stomach rest on Adam's lightly-sweating back.

        Even as the older man paused to let the younger one adjust to his size (and the feel of his gut pressing down), Garth was excitedly awaiting the coming realization. Adam was dealing with the feeling of being so fucking fullof cock, and it took him a minute before he realized the belly on his back was... squirming? His lust-addled brain slowly put together the meaning of the weight and movements and horror dawned upon. "Wait... WAIT! Garth, is that... did you... but... Ryan!?" Garth simply made an "Mmmhmm" sound as he started a slow in-and-out sawing motion, enjoying the velvety tightness. Adam had never felt so conflicted. He loved his boy more than almost anything ...but his cock was rock-hard with the realization that his own son was being digested less than a foot away by this incredibly sexy man. But... that was wrong... SO wrong... wasn't it?

        Garth could tell when the soon-to-be ex-father gave in to the eroticism of the situation with a lusty groan, and enjoyed the feel of the man starting to slam his hips back against Garth's waist (rubbing up and down the underside of the stretched, hairy belly in the process). He started fucking the younger man harder, gulping down fresh air and burping it up to keep the screaming teenager inside him fighting. He reveled in the sensation of his hairy low-hanging nuts slapping against Adam's own; he enjoyed it nearly as much as he enjoyed the fact that he was pounding away at hot brother-in-law while actively digesting the man's kid, Garth's own nephew, on the boy's birthday!

        The digestive aid was definitely serving its purpose. Garth could tell when Ryan's fighting became more frenzied as the pain became unbearable, and began belching out any remaining air while fucking Adam even harder. He imagined the lad being completely submerged in stomach acids and melting down, and let him stew like that for longer than normal before swallowing down a final batch of air. The sadistic pred could tell his nephew was in the final throes of agony and worked himself up to an explosive orgasm. Adam, with his mind full of visions of his precious son dissolving in stomach juices for the pleasure of the sexy bear of man fucking him, came hands free as he heard Garth bellow "FUCK YES! FUCK YES, I'M BREEDING YOU WHILE DIGESTING YOUR BOY!" Accompanying the shout was a crackle of breaking bones as the huge man squeezed down to finish snuffing the unfortunate young man.

            “Ryan, look who’s here to see you! It’s your Uncle Garth!” called his father. Ryan rushed over to meet this mystery relative and was immediately swept up in a crushing bear hug. “Hey there little cub! Happy Birthday!” Apparently, his father and uncle had connected at his mother’s funeral (Ryan could barely remember the event, having been in a sort of zombie state). Garth lived in the next state over where he worked as a firefighter, but they’d exchanged numbers and begun texting back and forth, forming a friendship and eventually making a special plan to go camping at a lake 2 hours away for Ryan’s birthday.

            His father ushered him out to Garth’s big Jeep where Ryan got to sit up front and excitedly chat with his uncle on the way to the camping store. There they picked out a large tent and other supplies before getting back on the road. This time it was the two older men up front gabbing away while Ryan excitedly reviewed his old Cub Scout manual in preparation for his first big camping trip. He looked up from time to time to see his daddy blushing at flirtatious comments from Garth that made the younger man feel a bit funny. Other times he’d glance at the rearview mirror only to see his uncle staring at him with a hungry look that Ryan was unsure of, and even received a wink himself, causing his face to grow hot.

            Once they’d reached the campground, Garth (the more experienced camper) had shooed father and son off to take a dip in lake while he set up the tent and other supplies. Adam surprised his son by stripping fully naked before wading into the refreshing water. Ryan hadn’t seen his father naked since they’d stopped showering together a decade ago, his mother saying he was old enough to shower by himself. Truthfully, Ryan had missed being “nudie” with his father. The teenager had just finished removing his clothes when he felt wet arms encircle and lift him up, and then he was flying through the air before landing in the water with a splash. He and his daddy tussled in the water for a bit before grabbing their clothes and walking back to the now ready campsite.

            At first surprised at the duo’s nakedness, Garth had quickly recovered and given an uproarious guffaw and immediately thrown off his own clothes. His level of fur was just as consistent on his large butt, balls, and even his fat cut cock, making him truly resemble a brown bear. Just as Ryan realized he had been staring too long at his naked uncle, he realized the man was staring right back at him with that same hungry look from the Jeep, and noticed the man even lick his lips once or twice. Adam missed the extended glances, as his top half was inside the tent looking around, with his butt in the open air and wiggling back and forth. Garth made a hushing motion to Ryan before tiptoeing behind the man and giving the right buttcheek a hearty *Smack*. Adam had fallen into the tent at the powerful spank, and they’d all had a giggle fit at the big red handprint that appeared.

            Soon the sun was setting, and Garth got the campfire started in the site’s firepit. Between the warm spring night and the heat of the flames, none of them felt the need to put their clothes back on. Adam and Garth sat close together on one bench with their legs touching and whispering back and forth while letting Ryan cook and assemble s’mores on the other bench. At first Ryan pretended not to notice his father’s hand on Garth’s hairy thigh or Garth’s big hand cupping and squeezing his father’s butt, but definitely couldn’t help but stare when he saw both of their dicks start to plump up. He’d seen his father’s penis like this once or twice during their showers, but Uncle Garth’s was even bigger. Adam had looked embarrassed when he realized what had caught his son’s attention, but Garth had just grinned, and pointed out the young man’s own stiffening prick before whispering something to the dad that made him blush.

            With sticky s’mores consumed and the fire pissed out by all three males (causing another round of giggles), it was time to crawl into the tent. The sleeping bag had turned out to be overkill for the already warm night, and Ryan ended up just laying atop it. His father and uncle had said they hadn’t minded the warmth of their bags after they set up a noisy battery-powered box fan and actually zipped their two sleeping bags together. Ryan soon drifted off to the white noise of the fan, though he was woken up a few times during the night by animal noises outside, as well as what he assumed was the sound of the men tossing and turning in their joint sleeping bag (but that seemed to go on for quite a while…)

            He had finally fallen into a true, deep sleep when a constricting warmth began to creep up his legs. Despite a dampness to it, it was welcome at first due to the increasing chill of the night. His sleepy brain assumed he was somehow sliding into his sleeping bag, and he even tried to shuffle himself a little deeper. The warmth made its halting, jerky way over his calves, knees, and thighs before Ryan felt something different. The 18-year-old had been sleeping on his stomach, but he felt his hips start to raise up as the hot wetness reached them and his hands were placed inside the “sleeping bag”. Just as he started to realize something was amiss, a hairy hand clamped down around his mouth. Something that felt like a giant muscular thumb began running over his private bits, moving his testicles back and forth, playing with his soft cock, even running up, down, and poking into his asshole. A deep “MMMMmmMMM” seemed to vibrate all around him, before he actually heard a loud *GULP* and felt more of himself tugged into the damp sleeping bag. More gulps started coming faster as the powerful hand muffling his surprised cries was also aiding in his slide.

            Ryan was more confused than scared as the tight moistness moved up his chest and he felt the probe sliding over his stomach and nipples. His penis had grown stiff at the attention paid to it and his bum. Combining that with the total dark of the tent and the grogginess of waking, and the young man just wasn’t sure what was going on. His lower body was now being squeezed hard to the point of pain, and he knew for certain that he definitely wasn’t in a sleeping bag. The teen felt fear start to overtake him as he began to put together that he was being swallowed down a throat. Had a bear gotten into their tent? A bear that had a hand instead of a paw?

            At the same time Ryan felt his head leave the comparably cooler outside air and enter the mouth of whatever was devouring him whole, his feet finally escaped the squeezing pressure before splashing into some sort of liquid. As he felt the mouth close with the teeth catching some of his short hair, the tongue was moving all across his face. He heard another appreciative moan from the “bear”, this time vibrating his entire body. There was another powerful swallow, and he felt his body being tightly massaged and sliding down, with more and more of him entering what could only be the stomach.

            The air inside was blisteringly hot, acrid, and foul. As his head entered the belly of the beast, the first breath of it caused the man to break out of his fear and confusion. He immediately began screaming and trying to push against the walls that were so tight against him, holding him in a fetal position facing down where he couldn’t even kick. He tried to reach the path to the throat he had entered from but couldn’t pry it open.  There was no light here either, and the teen panicked fully, hyperventilating and using up much of what little air he had in his struggles. He calmed for a minute when he felt everything shift sideways and what he thought were human hands rubbing him through the stomach walls. He tried to push back in the same places to let the owner of the hands know where he was, but all he got in response was a chuckle that shook him. A chuckle that even through the stomach walls sounded a lot like his uncle’s …

            Ryan tried yelling out to his uncle but got no response, just more rubbing from the outside. The liquid that had been at the young man’s front-half when he first entered the stomach was now at his side after the shift in position, even up against his face, and what had started as a tingle was starting to feel more like the pins and needles of a limb waking up from sleep. The rubbing turned into up and down shaking of the belly, and the liquid (already rising) was splashed all over the 18-year-old meal, accompanied by a gurgling sound Ryan was familiar with from resting his head on his father’s belly after a giant Thanksgiving dinner… “digestion.”

            The liquid was now getting all over even his untouched body parts, spreading the pins and needles, but the parts of his skin laying directly in the liquid were starting to actually burn, causing Ryan to squirm even harder. He felt his world shift again as the owner of the stomach moved around. He continued screaming and trying to fight his way out of the tight sack even as he thought he could hear muffled voices through the heavy walls of skin and fat. Suddenly he found himself curled upright as his feet and legs were completely submerged in the acids, and he heard groans as a back and forth rocking motion started up. Where was his father? Had he been eaten by a predator too? Ryan cried even harder at that thought, starting to grow lightheaded at the lack of air.

            Within minutes of this new splashing, his lower half was in more pain than he’d felt in his entire life. He couldn’t even feel his toes anymore, and his legs felt like they were burning away. All of a sudden, a deafening *belch* sounded out and what little air remained immediately left the chamber. The constricting walls pressed into him even harder, and for a few seconds his entire body was submerged in the stomach acids. In his panic, Ryan opened his mouth and the caustic liquid flooded down his throat and into his stomach and lungs. But then fresh air returned and the stomach relaxed just enough for the man’s head to be above the liquid.

            On their way back to the dorm that evening, Pat tried to think of a reason Riley shouldn’t do it. “You could get in trouble” sounded like something a kid would say. “You might disappear” was downright ridiculous! And “I don’t want you to come back saying you had the best sex ever” would reveal some feelings he wasn’t ready for Riley to know about. He was still trying to think of something as they used the dorm shower, but finally gave up as they got back to their room and had their nightly 69. He drifted off to sleep but kept being awoken by strange dreams, and once from the sound of Riley jerking off.

            When closing time approached the next day, Pat and Riley were already hiding in one of the lockable study-rooms of the basement with the lights off. Riley would be getting a charge for not returning the key that day, but he could just go in Monday and say he forgot. They made sure to stay out of sight of the door’s windowpane, sitting in corner blocked from view and slowly masturbating each other’s hard cocks. Once forty-five minutes had passed, Riley turned the doorknob as quietly as possible before tiptoeing towards the Men’s Room. All the legends said you had to go alone, so Pat was staying behind in the study room and peeking through the windowpane, which faced the entrance to the hall.

            Pat watched Riley disappear down the hall in the dark basement, with only the emergency exit signs providing illumination. One of the librarians had already made the rounds earlier to check each study room was locked and “empty”, so the freshman didn’t worry too much about pulling a tall chair up to the door so he could watch in comfort. Comfort… and eventually boredom. It’d been 20 minutes since Riley vanished from view, and Pat was wondering how long they’d wait. Just then, he heard the sound of heavy footsteps clomping down wooden stairs.

            It was hard to make out the silhouetted figure in such dim lighting, but something about the tall, broad shape had Pat convinced it was “Riley’s librarian” (as he’d been mentally referring to the man). The staff office was located on the first floor, so the man had probably been finishing up work in there. But why come down to the basement before leaving? Everything clicked into place as he saw the shape head for restrooms. Either the man had a favorite restroom… or he was at least part of the legend’s source.

            After a few minutes of nothing happening, Pat cracked the study room’s door open. Without that barrier, he could just barely make out what might have been muffled voices coming from the direction of the restrooms. There was quiet again for a bit, and then the faint but unmistakable sound of bodies slapping against each other. For some reason his heart sunk as he realized Riley was probably getting fucked damn good by the DILF of his dreams. Pat sat there, still and silent; listening as the noises of sex went on… and on… and on… interrupted four times by animalistic roars so loud he would have believed they came from inside the room. Had the librarian really bred Riley’s ass four times in just over two hours!?

            After the fourth climax, Pat saw that tall shape exiting the hallway. The freshman could have been mistaken for a statue for how frozen he was as the librarian leisurely strode across the room and up the stairs to the first floor. A few minutes later a smaller shape also exited the hallway, moving much slower and heading towards the study room. Riley was definitely walking funny, and as he came into view showed signs of dishevelment. Without a word, the well-fucked student took Pat’s hand and led him toward the opposite set of stairs and out the rear exit of the library.

            There was a dreamy smile on Riley’s face the whole walk back to their dorm. As they passed through a more well-lit part of campus, Pat was able to spot a growing stain on the back of his friend’s shorts. Riley didn’t seem to care. It wasn’t until they’d made it back to the room that they finally spoke a bit. As Riley stripped his clothes off, not bothering to shower, he told Pat that it had definitely been the best sex of his entire life, maybe even of his dreams. The burly librarian had fucked that super-thick cock into him against the stall wall, laying on the bathroom floor, bouncing up and down while sitting on the toilet, and once while holding the freshman in the air! He was murmuring all this while absentmindedly playing with the cum slowly seeping out of a still gaping asshole.

            Riley seemed to fall asleep almost immediately, tired out from the night’s activities. In the other bed Pat found himself unable to sleep. His emotions were complicated. He was happy for his friend. And it was objectively hot as fuck to hear about. But… he worried that somehow things would be different now. Like maybe Riley wouldn’t be interested in roommate sex anymore. But he was apparently mistaken in thinking Riley had already drifted off. Riley mumbled one more thing before turning to face the wall: “You know, the DILF said he’d definitely show me a good time, but that my little friend was the type he was really into playing with…”

            As the days went by, it seemed at least one of Pat’s fears had been quashed; everyday Riley was beyond eager to plow Pat’s hole with his beautiful 6-incher. It seemed his experience in the library had caused the taller freshman to start fantasizing about the librarian pounding his buddy’s tight ass. As Riley contorted his friend like a pretzel so he could get even deeper, he was whispering filth in Pat’s ears, like “Fuck, you think this is good? Imagine if my cock was twice as thick and 3 inches longer, and it was just breeding you like this for HOURS while all you can smell is daddy musk!” Pat was in heaven, getting bred twice a day by the guy he’d fallen for, and didn’t want to do anything to risk ruining the passionate new energy between them. So when Riley giddily told him it was going to be his turn to brave the library basement afterhours, he hadn’t put up any resistance. Pat figured either he’d get an amazing fuck and be able to work Riley up all over again relating the experience, or he’d suffer through a painful one, lie to Riley that it was great, and still be able to get the same end result.

            Waiting in the dark study-room was a bit different this time. Where Pat was a bundle of nerves, Riley seemed sexually charged to the max. Instead of mutually masturbating, Riley was rimming Pat’s tight hole with gusto, adding a finger to help prep his buddy for an extra girthy cock. When the time came, Pat opened and shut the door quietly and started walking towards the basement Men’s Room. With every step through the dark library, Pat couldn’t shake the feeling that he was walking towards his own execution. He felt Riley’s leftover spit cooling on the skin of his hole (for some reason his dormmate had thought it’d be both hot and hilarious to not let Pat put his pants back on before leaving the study-room), and then his small penis and nuts shriveling up in the permanently-chilly air of the library basement.

            After what felt like an eternity, Pat found himself standing in front of the heavy Men’s Room door. With a deep breath, he summoned up his courage and pushed through it into the restroom. He’d been in here before of course, but now it had taken on an air of the unknown. The freshman went into the handicap stall and left the door open an inch. The stall was roomier than most, with its own sink and paper towel dispenser across from the heavy-duty toilet. Pat lowered the toilet lid and took a seat, shivering at first from the cool porcelain making contact with his butt cheeks.

            Maybe the librarian had been as eager for this as Riley, because it couldn’t have been more than 5 minutes later that he heard steps approaching, followed by the sound of the restroom door opening. The stall door swung open a moment after that, giving Pat his first up-close look at “Riley’s Librarian.” Pat had been too embarrassed to look his way throughout the week. He’d been too nervous and flustered due to Riley’s offhand remark about Pat being more the librarian’s type. But as the librarian closed the stall door and turned to face him, Pat finally took it all in.

            The man looked to be around 45. Short, wavy, dark-brown hair. Sexy blue glasses that matched his navy slacks (obscenely bulged out in the crotch) and tie. A white button-down shirt under a brown tweed blazer. The shirt was stretched over the man’s meaty pecs and a beer gut sticking out at least 4 inches past his belt. And a full, well-groomed mustache complimented a ruggedly handsome face. Pat’s own father had looked quite similar a few years ago. He could see why Riley had gone goo-goo eyes over the DILF. The librarian really was exactly the type of man Riley had downloaded porn of in the gigabytes. Up close, Pat was seeing the appeal too, enough to quiet some of his apprehension as the man loosened his tie and spoke.

            “Well well… I was hoping it’d be you this time. Your buddy is a good fuck, but it’s shorter boys with meat on their bones like you that wake the beast in me.” His voice was deep and sexual, with an animal intensity that seemed to vibrate Pat’s nuts with every bass note. The man continued while carefully hanging up his blazer and tie on one of the stall’s coat hooks. “And you look like a boy in need of real daddy-type to show you your place in life. Glad to see you already lost the pants, but go ahead shuck the shirt too.” Something in the tone of voice had Pat complying as quickly as possible, lifting the blue polo over his head and exposing his own little belly. Once he could see again, Pat dropped his shirt to the floor and turned back in time to witness the man removing his own.

            The librarian knew he had the freshman’s full attention as he slowly unbuttoned his shirt from the top down, one at a time. The first thing that came into view were those pecs, obviously the product of hard exercise and tasty food. The man’s chest was smooth and hairless, and he seemed to breathe a sigh of relief as he freed his gut from its cloth constraints, allowing it to breathe too. Unlike the blazer, the shirt was carelessly tossed over the DILF’s shoulder, where it landed across the stall door. “Ok piggy, why don’t you pull those legs up for me so I can see that pretty pink hole?” Again, it was less a question than a command, and Pat did his best to look sexy as he obeyed. His reward was a pleased grunt from the librarian accompanied by groping that huge bulge in his slacks.

            The DILF stepped forward while unbuckling and yanking his belt out through the loops. He dropped it to the floor with one hand while feeling up the freshman’s tight hole with the other. He took the middle finger he’d been pushing in a bit and popped it into his mouth while motioning for Pat to unzip him. He either really liked the taste or the feeling of his belly sagging free, because the DILF gave a big “mmmmmm” of appreciation. Any doubts that this librarian had been fucking college boys here for some time disappeared as the man reached behind the toilet’s tank and grabbed a bottle of lube that had been hidden there. “Go ahead and pull out that big cock for me, boy. Yeah… get a feel for that monster before I plug your cute piggy asshole with it.” And it was a monster prick. Pat had only played with a couple cocks since coming out, and this was definitely the biggest by far, in both length and girth. His anxiety started to return as he stroked the dribbled lube over the cock and helped it reach full erection.

            That’s when Pat heard the librarian’s stomach give an audible groan of hunger. “Told you your type wake the beast in me! Now you may want to bite your hand for this bit…” Pat’s confusion at the DILF’s “beast” apparently referring to his gut rather than his cock took a backseat. His entire focus was on the baseball bat of a cock beginning its slow invasion of his puckered hole. He gave thanks to Riley for the frequent fucks all week and the rimming and fingering in the study-room, because those were likely all that kept him from screaming at the immense stretch needed to take that beer-can thick cock. The overwhelmed young man felt his head being tilted up to look at the tall DILF bending over him. The hand squeezed his jaws until his mouth opened, and then the librarian slowly drooled directly down his throat. Pat had never done anything like spit play before, and was even more startled when the man followed up by spitting directly on his face and rubbing it in. “Good piggy. Yeaaaaaaah, that’s a GOOD pigboy, take that big cock up your hole!”.

            The shock loosened the last of Pat’s internal resistance, and the remaining 4 inches of cock rushed into him at once. He would have cried out, but the DILF had chosen that same moment to force their mouths together in a brutal kiss; it was all lust, with that giant tongue forcing its way inside Pat’s mouth and exploring his taste. The way Pat was curled up against the back of the toilet was deeply uncomfortable, but there was no time to complain: the fucking was about to start.

            The librarian didn’t bother starting slow, instead pulling his dick back until just the mushroom head was pulling against the stretched hole before thrusting the whole thing back inside. The freshman felt like he was being penetrated at both ends, with that cock reaching farther inside his ass than any before, and the tongue nearly going down his throat. The DILF started getting into a rhythm of long-dicking the student and then picked up the pace after breaking the kiss and wrapping a hand around Pat’s throat and squeezing.

            Between the choking, the face slapping, the spitting, and of course the re-arranging of his insides, Pat was completely overwhelmed. He lost all track of time, coming back to himself only as he felt the cock punch even deeper inside him, accompanied by a roar next to his head and the feeling of lava coating his insides. The DILF gripped him even tighter and he felt shudders rock through the older man as they both rode it out. Pat thought he was finally going to get a minute to collect himself when librarian raised up and that monster painfully popped out of his gaping hole. But no such luck. The DILF motioned for him to stand up, then took Pat’s place on the toilet seat and lowered his slacks to his ankles.

            The baseball bat hadn’t flagged in the least and now had a cummy sheen to it. The librarian waved it at Pat while raising an eyebrow. Getting his meaning, the chubby freshman stepped forward on still-trembling legs before lowering himself down. He let out a sigh of pleasure as he felt the gaping emptiness inside replaced when he was stretched wide all over again. But as he looked into the librarian’s face, there was something different in the man’s eyes, and the stomach let out an ominous growl once again. Two heavy hands landed on Pat’s shoulders, and he was forced down until his cheeks were pressed against the older man’s thighs. Once again he was subjected to a bruising kiss, and those heavy hands moved down to grip his arms to his sides.

            The mouth pressed into Pat’s kept widening further and further until it covered his whole face and that muscular tongue was running all over it. The freshman attempted to escape whatever was happening, but quickly realized just how bad a position he was in. His feet couldn’t reach the restroom floor due to the angle and the 9 inches of thick cock plugging his ass. His arms lacked the strength to get free from the large hands pinning them. And that inhuman mouth kept stretching over his head until the lips were sealed around his neck. He was trapped in darkness while the DILF moaned at his flavor and occasionally bounced the younger man on that thick cock. Pat was starting to understand why the librarian preferred shorter guys; he was able to keep fucking his meal while leaning over to take in the smaller shoulders without difficulty. Even knowing how hopeless it was, Pat kept trying to escape his predicament up until the his nipples slid inside the predator’s mouth.

            For the first time he felt the older man’s teeth clamp down on his flesh, and he immediately stilled in fear. But apparently this was less about biting through a meal and more about maintaining a powerful grip. The DILF’s hands gripped harder, and he breathed through his nose like he was about to break a personal record in weightlifting. Then Pat’s whole perception of gravity was upended as he felt himself lifted off that cock and into the air until his feet were above his head and his whole body was in a straight line pointing down the monster’s throat. By this point, a couple powerful gulps had already pulled his head into what had to be the older man’s esophagus and was being painfully squeezed. His progress through it had been slow, but now that gravity was aiding his descent, his passage sped up. With every terrifying gulp, more and more of the chubby freshman disappeared from the outside world until soon enough his head breached into the stomach and he got his first real breath of fetid, acidic air.

            As his shoulders started following him in, Pat wasted half the air in the roiling chamber screaming to Riley for help, despite knowing there was no way his friend could hear him. Riley and the librarian had fucked for hours, so there was almost no chance he’d come investigate this soon. At about the same time Pat’s head was being thrust into stomach acids, the librarian was yanking off his meal’s socks and shoes before sucking in the feet and enjoying the final tastes. With one final swallow, he finished stealing away the young man’s future full of hopes and dreams, instead dooming the youth to painfully die in his happily churning stomach.

            Pat had accidentally swallowed some of the acid, and he felt it burning its way down his throat and into his own stomach even as his legs and feet slid into the stomach sac. The chamber was claustrophobically tight, and he could barely get the room to kick or punch as he was forcefully compressed into a sideways fetal position. The left-side of his body was submerged beneath the slowly rising liquids and already starting to tingle. How could this be happening to him? He’d only just started living his real life in college, and now he was just some post-fuck food for a librarian DILF!? It wasn’t fair! Salty tears ran down his cheeks and into the stomach acids as the tingle morphed into a burn.

            Sitting on his porcelain throne, Conan the librarian was basking in the orgasmic rush of devouring another college kid. The little piggy had pushed all his buttons from the moment he’d laid eyes on the new freshman, and as soon as he’d found the lad’s bigger friend in his stall, he’d known he’d have the piggy melting in his stomach before the month was out. He didn’t even remember how that rumor about the basement bathroom had originally started, but he’d been checking the stall weekly for years now. Sometimes it was empty and he’d go home to his husband. Sometimes there was a straight jock waiting there on a dare, and he’d wag a finger at the boy and shoo him out (he only had one day off a week, and the bigger youths took too long to work down to a manageable size to go into work on Mondays). Sometimes there was a hot young gay and he’d give them a pounding fantastic enough for the rumors to continue. And sometimes…

            Sometimes there was a smaller student that his stomach couldn’t wait to get to work on breaking down. Like this little pig. There’d been fear in the lad’s eyes when he’d entered the stall, but he’d obeyed Conan’s commands eagerly enough. The fuck had been alright, but the taste… FUCK, the little pig had tasted irresistible. Now he had the younger man packed inside him, squirming about as Conan slowly rubbed his beer-can cock against the underside of his belly. Faint screams were making their way past the layers of fat and muscle and provided wondering white noise as the librarian continued to pleasure himself. Tonight was his anniversary with his husband, so he’d need to save at least 2 of his usual 4 loads for that, but he definitely had the time and patience to edge himself until he felt the young man perish inside him.

            Conan lovingly rubbed up and down his swollen abs as the struggles continued beneath his fingers. Leaning his head back, he imagined how tortuous it must be inside that hellish chamber. He pictured the flesh melting off the boy’s face and revealing a partially grinning skull beneath; the finger bones weakly scratching against his iron gut as the tendons fell away. Every time the predator burped up the boy’s air, he’d catch a snippet of intelligible pleas for death, but then he’d swallow down more and continue stroking his cock. The little piggy ended up lasting almost an hour before the movements in his belly stilled. Something about snuffing out all the potential of a bright young college freshman just made his nuts clench, and before Conan knew it he was painting his belly with a huge load of cum.

             Chris was truly a prodigy, the pride and joy of his parents. As a boy he had said his first words at only 5 months, used sentences at 1 year, was reading chapter books by 3, and programmed his first mobile app by 5 (a moderate success on the app stores). He’d been homeschooled up until last year. Even though the public school material was too easy, his parents wanted to make sure the wunderkind got some socialization and exposure to other teenagers his own age before he finished his online college triple major.

             Despite being new, the young man’s outgoing personality and willingness to explain difficult concepts better than their teachers had earned him quite a few friends. The gregarious youth excelled in Math, English, Spanish, Science, and even Music; the only thing that gave him trouble was the Gym class I taught. I wasn’t cruel or unfair to him; it was just that his tiny 4’6”, under-utilized frame worked against him whenever participating in physical activities amongst his larger classmates.

             I’d “graduated” the last student from high school in my own office (where I’d found him sniffing my dirty jockstrap), and I wanted to avoid using the same location again so soon. Instead, I was going to make use of the Music Room. It was larger than most classrooms, with space for a whole junior orchestra, a small attached office for Mr. Campos, and a locker/cubby-room for the kids to store their instruments. Nobody wants to lug a cello around school all day! With the location set, the other variable to handle was getting Chris in and “out” of the building outside of school hours without raising any eyebrows when he didn’t make it home. That part I left up to Andres.

             A young man of Mexican heritage, Andres had short black hair, a baby face, and a nice plump butt on his 4’9”, 130lb frame. The guy was also completely smitten with me, and was happy to go along with any scheme that’d allow him to enjoy my naked body. He’d sweet-talked Chris’s parents into allowing him to give the musical prodigy some free private violin lessons after class twice a week. They’d been quite happy to accept, especially after he told them that he wanted Chris to perform a solo at the winter concert.

             Normally the high school senior would ride the school bus, but on the private lesson days his parents allowed him to scooter the couple miles home. The genius had actually created and attached the motor himself, and it was apparently more energy-efficient than any commercial model out there. Their lessons had been going for almost 3 weeks, getting everybody used to the arrangement, and I swear my big low-hangers were starting to softly grumble in protest (no matter how much I jerked off). But it was finally time to make our move.

             It was 15 minutes into their lesson when I peeked through the door’s window pane. The diminutive 18-year-old was playing his tiny violin in front of a music stand. I don’t know anything about classical music, but he sounded noticeably better than the cacophony that usually filtered down the hallways whenever the professionally-soundproofed room’s door opened. My cock was already hard, snaking down my athletic shorts to the point that the head was peeking out one of the legs. I’d seen no point in putting my jock back on after using the locker-room shower, but I was dripping so much pre-cum it’d formed a small puddle beneath me as I waited for the song to finish. Deciding it was time, I quietly opened the door and snuck inside.

             Chris was facing away from the door and didn’t see me enter; I snuck around behind them and through the open door to the instrument locker-room. Despite my athletic 6’3 frame, I can move stealthily when I need to. I hid in the shadows behind the door just as the song finally ended. Having seen me get into position, the music teacher announced that they’d need to cut the tutoring short today. There was a “special lesson” he’d prepared for Chris. I silently stepped out of my shorts during the shuffling of musical equipment being put away; my throbbing cock was starting to swell even larger, already dripping pre-cum again.

             By the time Andres accompanied the ginger into the locker-room to store his violin, my hefty uncut meat was already down past my knees. The head had escaped the foreskin as it grew to the size of my fist. Now that we were safely out of view of any random passerby’s peering through the music room’s windows, I stopped worrying about stealth. I casually shut the locker-room’s door behind them with a click, smirking at the bewilderment on the spiky-haired student’s face as he turned towards the noise. Andres dutifully put the violin case in a locker as Chris took in my half-naked form. I definitely cut an impressive figure: clean white tennis shoes over bright white athletic socks strained by my thick calves; strong, muscular thighs leading up to a trim waist and “adonis belt” (aka cum-gutters, according to Andres); washboard abs from a powerful core and usually-controlled diet; black tank-top stretched over a broad chest with meaty pecs, hard nipples poking out the fabric; a rugged, Cuban face with a bushy blond mustache I prided myself on; the Daddy Coach look completed with whistle around the neck and a blue baseball cap on top. All that, and a monster prick.

             I was currently stroking it, needing both hands to encircle the girth. I don’t know if little Chris had ever seen a hard adult cock in real life, but the situation he found himself in was startling enough that he cautiously backed away. His back bumped into Andres. There was a sparkle in the teacher’s brown eyes as he placed his hands on the young man’s shoulders, and a tremulous thrill in his voice as he said “Now now, Chris, there’s nothing to fret over! You missed the required sexual education course during your home-schooled years, so I’ve arranged for Coach Frank to give you a private lesson.” I held in a laugh at the reasoning Andres had come up with; I actually do teach Sex-Ed to the 9th graders, but this would be a very different kind of lesson. I told him, “That’s right, champ! We just need to tick a few boxes before promoting you up and out, so go ahead and step out of those clothes. We’re going to do a hands-on demonstration of the male sexual anatomy.”

             Any normal high schooler would have instantly known how wrong and inappropriate the situation was (I literally had an erection dripping pre-cum) and tried to run or call another faculty member. Not that he would have escaped; cell reception is awful in the music room, and not even full-size seniors would be fast or powerful enough to escape my grasp. But even though the 18-year-old had a feeling of unease, he’d lived a sheltered life so far, surrounded by people who loved and wanted the best for him. I’m sure his parents had told him to always respect and obey his teachers while navigating the uncertain waters of a public high school. So even though his normal grin had disappeared, he actually asked about how the lesson would go while removing his red polo shirt and khaki cargo shorts. “Which topics will we be covering, Coach Frank? I’ve memorized the Biology textbook, but only ever seen pictures before besides my own, and the male members were definitely not such… statistical outliers.”

             The lad had stripped down to his tighty-whities and socks, shivering a bit in the cool AC. As Andres softly murmured that those needed to come off too, I approached and spotted the teacher discretely rubbing a small bulge of his own through the thin fabric of his black slacks. Chris complied and stripped nude. The young man’s naked body didn’t arouse any sexual attraction in me; my preference in that arena is buxom women that knew how to please a stud and didn’t have a healthy dusting of ginger chest hair or good-sized cock (I think his was actually bigger than Andres’s despite his short stature). But the hunger in my loins ratcheted up a few gears as I saw how perfect the little guy would be as a first meal for my junk. I started the “lesson” once I was two feet away from my prize. My cock bounced a bit as it settled at the same height as Chris’s head.

             “Go ahead and use your hands to inspect each part of my… “member” as I point them out. This is the head, or glans, of the penis. It contains a specialized type of erectile tissue known as corpus spongiosum, and thus is quite spongy, as you can tell. I have a foreskin because I was not circumcised as a baby, and due to my current erect state, it has retracted back from the head, revealing the coronal ridge.” I shuddered a bit as the 18-year-old’s soft hands rubbed over the sensitive spot right beneath my dickhead. “That slit in the glans leaking fluid currently is the opening of the urethra, the tube that travels all through the shaft (mmmmmmm yes, feel the veins along the shaft). Go ahead and collect some of the fluid, known as pre-ejaculate or pre-cum, and sample it with your tongue to analyze the taste.”

             Andres had stepped back and begun quietly removing his own clothing. At this last instruction, he’d paused with one pant leg still on to witness the scene. The curious student held a finger beneath the now constant stream of pre flowing out of my slit, let some collect on the tip, and then popped the whole finger into his mouth. He had a contemplative look on his face as he considered the taste and viscosity.

              “As you can tell, the pre-ejaculate is salty-sweet and viscous. It is produced in the Cowper’s Gland and serves to lubricate both the urethra and any openings the penis pushes into.” “Coach Frank, do most men produce this much pre-ejaculate, or is it related to the unusually large size of your genitals?” “You could say that this is an unusual amount for the average male. Now, move your hands past the shaft and down to the scrotum. Your classmates might refer to this as a ballsack, as it contains the testicles. Testicles are actually ball-shaped glands that produce both sperm and testosterone. The testicles each connect to their own seminal vesicle, one of the places that produces the semen that sperm moves around in, through the long tubes known as vas deferens. There are… alternative ways of creating semen, but we will cover that later. For now, continue running your hand down past the scrotum. Be aware that there is a muscle suspending and surrounding the testicles known as the cremaster, responsible for raising, lowering, and tightening them.”

             I let out an involuntary moan of pleasure as the nimble hands trailed down my sac, innocently massaged my heavy nuts, and continued down until the fingers were resting on my taint. “That… uh… (fuck…) that area of the body is known as the perineum, defined as… (oooooo…) the area in between the genitals and the… (mmmmm…) the anus.” I had to resist the urge to tug the man’s questing finger deeper as it massaged around my puckered hole. “Bring your finger back to the perineum and feel around until you find the (ohhh, that’s the spot) bulge of the prostate. That gland can… can uh… can be stimulated from the outside like you’re doing, or from inside the anal passage. It also helps to move the sperm, along with other functions. Now let me direct your hands a bit…” I moved his hands back up to the bobbing head of my cock, ready to start the internal part of the lesson. “As you can feel, some men have a more elasticurethra that can stretch more than you’d think. See how (FUCK!) your hands are able to (GOD!!) slide right inside? (YES!!!)”

             A naked Andres knelt to the side with his face inches away from where I was guiding Chris’s hands into my gasping urethra. The senior’s arms were soon trapped up to the elbows in my cock. The feeling of my shaft stretching around the slender forearms was intense; both painful and euphoric. It was like conquering a weight-lifting plateau. I needed more. I started using some pelvic floor muscles in ways I never had before, contracting them in order to slowly tug the kiddo’s arms even deeper. Even as I was running my hands up and down my beautiful shaft, I explained to the “genius” that I was making use of a little-known function of the bulbospongiosus muscles and ischiocavernosus muscles to bring him in all the way to his armpits. I gave my accomplice a pointed look.

             As if in a dream, Andres reached his hand up to cup the back of his student’s head and mussed the ginger hair. Up until this point Chris had viewed the lesson with curiosity and interest, maintaining calm even with his arms completely enveloped by my fat cock. It wasn’t until his music teacher started slowly forcing his head towards the yawning mouth of my cock that panic spread across his freckled face. The undersized 18-year-old fruitlessly tried to resist the strength of two bigger men; one flexing cock muscles to prevent the little arms from pulling out, the other thrusting first his nose, then his whole face into the bulbous dickhead. Once the young man’s skull had sunk in enough for my cock to get a grip on it, Andres grabbed both of Chris’s legs and lifted them into the air until the body was tilted downward towards my hungry junk.

             If a pair of arms stretching my shaft had been like setting a PR, the feeling of my meal’s shoulders popping in was like setting a world record and winning Olympic gold. I think my brain shorted out; all I could do was focus on slurping a few more inches at a time as my accomplice slowly fed the doomed student into me. The river of pre-cum was fulfilling its purpose and lubricating Chris’s traumatic journey through my monster prick. Andres kept up a steady pace and pressure, and it wasn’t long before I felt Chris’s hands pressing against some sort of clenched muscle at the base of my cock. I woke up enough to realize the glorious feeling of ingestion had paused. A bit of chest, a thin waist, and both scrawny legs still remained outside, instead of being swallowed down like they were meant to be. I have fantastic control over my muscles from a life spent lifting and exercising, but it still took me a few tries before I figured out which ones I needed to relax to allow the squirming man to start sliding into my hungry sac.

             I was covered in sweat from the unfamiliar exertions by this point, tongue lolling out of my mouth. It was incredibly erotic to see the clear outline of a screaming face press out against the skin of my scrotum as more and more of his body transferred from my engorged shaft. Around the time I had taken him up to his knees, his shoulders started pushing the sac downwards. I got so caught up watching his hands stretching my ballsack in various spots, I almost missed his bare feet disappearing from the outside world. No longer needing the music teacher’s assistance, I lifted my heavy monster up and held it to my chest, kissing those little toes goodbye and wishing them swift travels. I stopped flexing and allowed gravity to slowly finish the 18-year-old’s descent into his final place of learning. Andres returned to his knees right next to my expanded scrotum and seemed to actually be trying to make out with his student through the tight, stretchy skin. Honestly, I found it rather erotic.

             The stretching of my shaft had been a mix of pain and pleasure, but the weight and stretch of my nutsack as a small 18-year-old slid in was pure bliss. His weight dragged the whole thing down to only a foot or two off the ground. Once he’d righted himself and actually started struggling, I had to resist cumming right there and then. His fingers were trying to scratch through the walls of his prison, finally satisfying an itch I’d had since I’d first imagined stuffing him in there. All the planning, all the waiting, all of it had been worth to feel a student squirming in my nuts and knowing he’d be snuffed out before I left the room.

             While muffled, the sound of him crying (“Help! Coach! Mr. Campos! Mama!) made my dick jump as I tried to visualize what the little ginger looked like in his cum-bath. He was probably sitting in a pool of cum up to his waist, lit only by wan light filtering through the scrotal skin. On the outside, the sac was so tight against him that nothing was left to the imagination: those were his feet at the bottom, there were his knees poking out a little higher up, that’s an elbow rubbing back and forth, and there’s no doubt it was his head near the top. I barely noticed as Andres slipped out the door of the locker-room, my entire focus on my writhing ballsack. I’d needed to figure out what muscles to use to suck him in and let him into the sac, but I knew exactly what muscles I’d be flexing to start the churning process: the cremaster.

             I started working on tightening and then relaxing those scrotal muscles, churning the liquid in my ballsack and bouncing poor Chris around inside. Andres returned with his large piano bench, the same one I’d seen him masturbating on while moaning out my name. He set one of the short sides against the locker walls and laid his back down along the length, raising his legs towards his ears and exposing his cute bubble butt and winking hole. Even with how lust-addled my brain was, I still took a second to consider if my still enlarged cock could even fit. It had shrunk down a little bit without an 18-year-old stretching it wider, but it was still a monster. But if my cock could stretch to swallow a high school senior, his ass could probably stretch to swallow my cock…

             The pre-cum stream had never stopped, so I rested my dickhead right against his asshole and allowed natural lube to drain over and into it. I gave that a few seconds while experimentally making tiny thrusts against his ass and continuing to flex the cremaster. Our student was still solid and maybe a bit calmer than he had been a minute ago. He seemed to be focused on trying to stay upright as my sac-flexing jostled him like a buoy in rough waves. One of my little pushes found more purchase than the others, and after some force (and keening from Andres), my super-sized cock managed to pop into the tight warm passage. The ring was stretched obscenely around my coronal ridge, showing me what it must have looked like when my own hole had slid over a student’s shoulders (I’d need to set up a mirror or record it next time I did that). I maintained my tightening and relaxing as I slowly worked my dick into Andres. It took time and patience, but before long I was about 2/3rds of the way inside him. I paused there, enjoying the unfamiliar, velvety grip of a man’s ass, as well as letting him catch his breath and adjust. Then I thrust the last couple inches in all at once.

             The movement elicited howls from both of my “victims”; Andres from having over a foot of still wildly-girthy cock inside (to the point a bulge appeared just below his tummy), Chris because the force of the thrust had caused my massive nutsack to swing forward and slam into the underside of the piano bench. As intense as it must have been for them, it felt amazing for me. I slowly pulled back until just my head remained inside, then thrust the whole thing back in, the sac slapping the bench again. Soon the long-dicking fell into a rhythm that had the music teacher moaning like a bitch, telling me not to stop, and the kid in my nuts crying out the opposite. My ballsack was swinging back and forth like a pendulum and almost certainly giving Chris a more even coating with audible sloshing.

             I’d been fucking for a couple minutes when I heard Chris shout that everything was tingling. Here we go! Soon enough he started actually digesting; he was full-on screaming and flailing again, making me bellow with the pleasure and the power. This young man, an honest-to-god genius with the potential to change the world, was starting to melt and churn into a load of nut-slop, just so I could experience how good it felt to snuff him out. The more I fucked and flexed my balls, the less defined his shape became. What had been obviously identifiable limbs started to round out into bulges I could only guess at as the sack swung. I bent sideways until I could reach out and squeeze at where I thought one of his arms might be. There was resistance at first… then just a little give… and then… *SPLURSH!* The resistance disappeared. FUCK YES!

             Andres’s words had devolved into animal moans as I ramped up the speed of my thrusts. I decided on the spot that I wanted to try and cum just as the suffering student expired. There were no more words discernable from inside my sack, just pitiful moans and burbling noises. I once again tried to picture what it must look like inside. Had the ginger hair been bleached white, or had it all fallen out? Could those adorable freckles still be visible against the whole face paling and softening? Were the flailing limbs getting shorter where they rubbed against the walls, or were they melting evenly? That cock must have already dissolved into cum by now since it had been under the “water line” since the beginning, right?

             As I approached climax, I used my upper-body strength to easily lift the little Mexican off the piano bench and into my lap as I sat in his place. I bounced him up and down on my still massive cock like he weighed nothing. At the same time, I was using my legs to massage my sac that was now resting on the cool tiles of the floor, breaking apart limbs and joints. My foot found what must have been all that was left of Chris’s torso, and I slammed Andres all the way down to my hips just as I applied enough to pressure to push through our student’s mushy ribs and organs. The only thing separating my heel from the floor was the thin layer of sac skin, and the prodigy had to be dead. That realization got me over the edge, and I came HARD! I yowled out in a brief burst of pain as I felt something still solid re-stretch my shaft as it rocketed out and up Andres’s bowels, but that was over in a moment.

             I’m not sure how long I continued shooting blasts of cum into the young teacher; I was contracting pelvic and scrotal muscles on auto-pilot, just riding the waves of pleasure while continuing to pump out more and more Churned-Chris. A man (even a small one) must digest into at least a few gallons of cum, because Andres’s flat stomach ballooned in front of me as it filled up. I could tell he normally kept a tight core, because the skin was still taut enough for me to make out the object that had traveled up my shaft. For just a moment, I could make out the skeletal grin of a skull pressing against Andres’s stomach walls; the only part of Chris that hadn’t dissolved, probably due to his efforts to keep his head out of the cum as long as possible.

             Andres Campos, the music teacher, looked like a student himself. Standing only 4’9” and 130lb dripping wet, the cute Mexican man was dwarfed whenever standing in my imposing presence. This was his second year as a teacher, and he couldn’t have been older than 25. He obviously had a crush on me if he was fantasizing about being bred by the Cuban Coach, and I could use that. The question was how he’d react to my more malicious desires; there was a large chance he’d need to be disposed of too if things went badly. If I’m honest with myself, I’ve never been much of a long-term planner, preferring to wing it and let my charisma, strength, and looks get me through most situations. Still, I wanted to approach this in steps.

             Given he’d been willing to risk the small chance of being caught masturbating in the music room after hours, I figured that he probably wouldn’t turn away from porn sent to his phone while still on school grounds. Most of the teachers were on a phone tree for when emergency messages needed to go out, so it wasn’t hard to get Andres’s personal number. Nor was it difficult to set up an anonymous texter service to send texts from my computer with a spoofed number while on a VPN. I decided to start by catching his interest with a close-up 10-second video of my hand stroking up and down my 6-pack abs (I’d had to exercise hard to reclaim those only a week after digesting Brandon). The vid was framed so that there was nothing identifiable in it. For that first video, I timed the text to be sent in the middle of a lunch break we shared in the teacher’s lounge.

             I didn’t look up from eating my chicken and broccoli when I heard his phone chime. But after a moment I raised my head to see his whole face flushed as he put his phone back away. It seemed he liked what he saw, since even with his lunch finished, he needed a few minutes before he was able to stand up and hurry out of the lounge. It was a good start, but definitely needed to go further. The next day, the texter went off at the same time with a different video; this time the camera followed my hand down from my abs as it became apparent that I was fully naked. The video stopped just as the trimmed blond bush and thick root of my cock came into view. When he stood up to leave this time, there was an obvious wet spot in his slacks.

             I didn’t send anything over the weekend, and during the lunch break on Monday I could see Andres was disappointed that no new message came in; he pulled out his phone every few minutes to see if he’d missed it. This time I’d timed it so that text would arrive just 5 minutes before the end of the school day. I had my own class to finish, so I don’t know whether he watched it right then or if he waited. But when I walked by the music room 10 minutes later, he was sitting on the same piano bench I’d seen him masturbating at, eyes glued to his phone and hand down his pants. This video showed my massive beercan-thick cock going from soft (7 inches) to hard (10 inches) all on its own as I slowly jerked out a massive load. All it’d taken to manage that was to imagine tiny Chris struggling down my cock.

             I definitely had the music teacher hooked. Now came the decisive step. The texter was set to send exactly 8 minutes after the final bell rang; not long enough for Andres to have left, but long enough for the students to clear out and for me to rush over and see the result. I made it to the music room door just in time to hear the ping of his cell phone. There were no other afternoon classes in this part of the school building, so there was no problem peeking through the door pane to watch.

             Andres Campos’s face went through a gamut of emotions as he watched his first ever cockvore porn, the one I’d found that started the itch in my balls. First was anticipation (a new video!), then confusion (it was a different man than the other videos?), then lust (the starring man was handsome, black, and nearly as muscular as me, with a gigantic cock already throbbing). As the camera zoomed out, the little music’s teacher face paled with shock as he must have seen the co-star (a bound and naked young Asian man with “BALLFOOD” written across his chest in sharpie) come into view. But Andres’s hand had found it’s way into his slacks and hadn’t come out. I knew the next part of the video was the massive palm of the black man smooshing the smaller man’s face into the mushroom-head of his cock.

             It was easy to tell when Andres got to the part where the Asian’s head slipped in. The hand he’d been masturbating with went still, and he actually stopped breathing. I could picture the video in my head (I’d watched it more than 10 times already). The outline of a person was slowly sliding down that beautiful ebony shaft as the giant hands massaged it towards a humongous hairy scrotum. Around the time when the man should have been dropping into the killer nuts, I noticed Andres’s hand start moving in his slacks again. In less than a minute I could tell he’d shot a load of cum into his pants. I’d clipped the video to end before the digestion really got going in case that ended up being too much for him, so he must have cum just to the man’s deep moans and the outlines of the prey’s struggles in the tight ballsack.

              “This is Frank.” “Hey handsome, it’s Julia! I hope I caught you before you left work! I’m going to need a raincheck for our date tonight! Probably for a while! I got accepted into that yoga seminar I was telling you about! Three months in the mountains! It’s going to be amazing! Let Principal Paulson know for me!? Thanks a million! Kisses! Bye!” All in all, the call probably lasted less than ten seconds before the school’s perky art teacher hung up without even waiting for a response from me. I’d known she was flighty, but was willing to look past that in favor of her more… physical assets. Now I’d be blue-balling my way through the week unless I took matters into my own hands, something that felt like losing. I hate losing.

             “…the smell…” The kid had seen me lower the phone and had finally gotten the courage to answer my earlier question. I hadn’t even noticed my hand not holding the cell phone had crept down my jock again to fondle my poor, unfulfilled cum-makers and was surprised when I felt them twitch at the response. “What smell?” I wanted clarification, even as some dirty thoughts started percolating up from my nuts to my brain. “I… I wanted to… to know if your junk, uh… smells as good as… my dad’s…” My monster started swelling at the possibilities unexpectedly arising. It was definitely a bad idea, but sometimes horniness put off too long rebounds in unexpected ways.

             I slowly withdrew my hand from my jock where it’d been soaking up the smells of my musk and held two fingers towards the young man. I was curious how bold he’d be. The lad trembled in place for a moment before rushing around the desk to get a good whiff of my ball-stink. His 6-incher jumped as he kept taking deep inhales. He was on the smaller side, so I was easily able to lift him up and set his naked butt onto my lap. I had him facing away from me, my fingers still in front of his entranced face. “You like that, uh… Brandon?” I must have gotten his name right, as he merely nodded and kept huffing like a pig. My cock was hardening in my jock, something he must have been able to feel through the thin layers of my athletic shorts. I replenished the smells by reaching my hand back down and rubbing it all over my balls (and taint this time) before returning it to his nose. Brandon practically vibrated in my lap as he breathed in the headier musk. My other hand was slowly running up and down his naked body while I did some mental gymnastics to try and figure out what I wanted to do here, and how to get away with it….

             Well, if the guy wanted to really smell me… I could get behind that. I effortlessly lifted the skinny naked senior off my lap and laid him on his back atop my desk, with his bowl-cut head hanging just off one edge. “So you want to see if my junk smells as good as your dad’s? Well let’s have you check at the source!” I yanked my tiny athletic shorts off over my white athletic socks and shoes, revealing the jock I’d been wearing the last few days without showering (despite coaching multiple gym classes per day). I know I cut an impressive figure: powerful legs, skull-crusher thighs, and a muscular body that showed the results of decades of consistent exercise. Still, I could feel my ego (and cock) swell at the way the mouth of the upside-down young man hung open in awe. And like the saying goes, an open door(or mouth) is an invitation.

             I approached the teen and found the height of his head to be just right to thrust my full jock into his face. The cloth-covered head of my cock pushed into his mouth a bit while his nose got the full business of the scent-soaked underwear. His hand immediately went to play with his smaller cock while I felt him rubbing his head all over the jock and snorting rapidly like a pig. “How’s that musky jock kiddo? Even better fresh than that one in the laundry, right?” I heard an emphatic if muffled *Mmhmm!*

             I ground my covered crotch into his head even harder; I was starting to get worked up at the raunchiness of the situation. Most males evoke little sexual interest from me, but finding this eager 18-year-old so into my musky smells (and wanting to compare it to his FATHER’S junk!?) when I’d already been riled and pent up for a now-cancelled date… Yeah, I could definitely make use of the gay piggy to get my rocks off, as long as I covered my tracks afterwards. I wasn’t going to take the chance of anything that happened in my office today making it out.

             I raised up a bit so it was my taint covering his nose while I ran my hands over his smooth chest, experimentally giving his dick a few tugs. Just like that he was cumming and shooting a decent-sized load all over his chest and my hand. I guess it was the combo of the more powerful smells plus his hot gym teacher jacking his Johnson. I chuckled at how quickly it’d happened, and openly laughed when he immediately went back to sniffing as much man-smell as possible, now adding his tongue for enthusiastic licks up and down my taint. I moaned at the new sensation. There were some things most women just wouldn’t do, complaining of smells and “nastiness”, but Brandon here seemed all about it.

             My sweaty jock was barely containing my now massive cock, but that wasn’t the focus right now. I’d only been rimmed once before, as the rimmer (a hot, busty young teacher’s aide who’d tried to blackmail me) hadn’t been around to repeat the servicing after that first time. I was eager to feel that huffing nose and tongue on my ripe asshole. Moving my hands up to the teenager’s chest, I pushed him into the middle of the desk before hopping atop the sturdy wooden thing. I used a well-practiced squatter’s form as I slowly lowered my ass down to hover right above the high-schooler’s face. He immediately smashed his nose directly into my sweaty hole and took the biggest inhale I’d heard from him yet. His arms actually circled my waist and attempted to pull me down closer to him, but I maintained my position for the moment. I wanted him to work for it.

             I fought the urge to pull my cock out and stroke it, wanting the experience to last and wanting my climax to be at the height of ecstasy. Brandon’s busy tongue suddenly darted out and gave a long lick up and down my entire crack, and any doubt’s I’d had about how I wanted this to conclude vanished. The jock-sniffer wasn’t leaving here without getting all the ass-musk he could take, and then some more. I slowly dropped my center of gravity backwards until I was actually sitting on the 18-year-old’s face. I wasn’t smothering him yet, but I did reach back and spread my cheeks so that his face was between them before letting go.

             The pigboy was in heaven. I felt him kick into high gear with the rapid snorting and frenzied licks of my ripe hole, making me moan even louder. Every stroke of his tongue got my nuts churning. FUCK, this felt amazing! I needed to feel him even deeper. I sat my entire weight down around his head and mentally relaxed my hole. The only thing that happened at first was another body-shaking orgasm from Brandon before he went back to work rimming and snorting at my still-tight rosebud. Since I’d already decided no one would be hearing from Brandon again after this, I had no qualms extending my explorations by sucking on a finger before reaching back and feeling up the young man’s own tight hole. He started struggling atop the desk when I shoved my finger in to the first knuckle, and full-on spasmed when I pushed further to the second knuckle, but there was nowhere for him to go. If anything, the struggles beneath my ass got me precumming inside my jock even more; it also got more sweat rolling down my crack, slicking up my hole until one of the guy’s flailings (combined with my relaxing the muscles again), pushed his nose into my asshole.

             I think that was the point where poor Brandon started to realize this might all be too much for him, but it was far too late. With a drawn-out grunt, I used my free hand to spread a cheek again and focused on bearing down on my student’s face. My normally vault-tight hole slowly dilated open and crept across his face. He rocked back and forth trying to escape, which only helped my butt claim his head. The stretch burned like a great workout, and I nearly came hands-free when the ring made it around the hardest part and re-tightened around Brandon’s neck. There was a student’s whole head completely inside my musky ass, thrashing and screaming, and it felt AMAZING. I stayed like that for a moment, letting him get alllll the man-smell he’d ever wanted while entertaining myself by fingering his tight butthole. I could feel every desperate breath he took as his nose rubbed back and forth against my prostate.

             It was tempting to go slow, but I’d learned from consuming the TA a few years ago. She’d passed out just as her pert breasts slid up my hole, and half the fun had gone out of the experience because of the lack of struggling. I wasn’t going to make that mistake with the cute little gay guy here. With that in mind, I used my powerful legs and glutes to raise back up into a high squat. I pulled my tanktop off and ran my hands up and down my sexy chest. If anyone else had been there, the scene probably would have made for a comical (or erotic) picture:

             A sexy Cuban adonis of a coach, stripped down to just his cap, whistle, jock, and socks, squatting on his desk with his ripe butthole sealed around the neck of a squirming high school senior.

             Brandon had been pulled up into a seated position, and his hands ineffectually tried to push against my mighty glutes. I ignored the futile resistance and added another finger (dry) into his ass (eliciting another scream to vibrate my g-spot). Then I put my powerful arms to work by pushing up using his ass at the same time I loosened my hole again and shoved down over his shoulders.

             With the TA, squeezing the shoulders and breasts in had been tough, but trying to force the shoulders of a full-grown male inside was far tougher. Somehow consuming this musk-hungry student with my powerful ass felt even better than the full-bodied woman had. I realized I was actually humping the air and basically masticating the kid with my hungry hole as more and more of his skinny body made its way inside my immensely more powerful one. Once the flesh ring had traveled far enough that Brandon’s hands had been pushed to his sides and I could no longer comfortably keep fingering him, I roughly yanked my fingers out of his butt and released my cock from its imprisonment in my jock.

             Throbbing and weeping a continuous stream of pre-cum, my beercan of a 10-incher was ready to shoot at any moment. I stood up (squeezing tight so none of my ass-food slipped out due to gravity), used one hand to roll my low-hangers around in my ballsack, and felt around with the other hand until I found the teen’s feet. At this point the scene was definitely more erotic than comical, and I wished I had a photo or video to look back at later:

             The studly coach now stood proudly on his desk. A scarily-huge cock jutted out from his waist drooling pre-cum nonstop. A high school senior was buried all the way to his little gay ass inside a much larger and sexier musclebutt, with just the prey’s legs and feet remaining in the outside world as he slid in a few inches further. The stretched ring of the hunk’s asshole is squeezing with every heartbeat, basically chewing its food while ingesting it.

             I knew the guy would run out of air soon, and I was so close to orgasm, so I started a powerful, constant push on his feet. His panic reached a fever-pitch as he must have come to terms with the fact he wasn’t coming out again the same way, and I could hear his screams and cries through the walls of my muscle. I think I started shooting ropes of cum like bullets around when I got to his knees, but my brain had basically shut off by that point, so it might have been when my asshole sealed around his toes. All I knew was that one of my students was suffocating in my bowels, spasming and flailing as I used my muscle control to squeeze his entire body with my insides, and it was so orgasmic that I actually blacked out for a bit.

             When my brain finished rebooting, I found myself sitting on my desk, covered in cum like a good part of my desk and one of the walls. I don’t know if I’d ever cum that hard before! I immediately decided that I would not let years go by before repeating this (as I had with the TA). Screw art teachers obsessed with the Tantric Arts, this was the true path to “enlightened ecstasy”. By now Brandon was barely struggling, but I thought I could feel him making his way through my intestines and up into my stomach. The TA had never woken up in there, but if I was lucky…

             While letting my body do what it would do, I set to work using my dirty clothes to wipe up all the cum I could before throwing them back in the hamper alongside what must have been my ass-food’s clothing. I was exhausted and braindead after the huge orgasm or I would have figured out what to do with the clothes immediately, but for the moment I decided to leave it for tomorrow. Stripping off my jock and socks and rubbing a hand over my expanding belly, I made my way to the showers to wash the cum and sweat off. The water was just getting to a good steamy temperature when the young man my ass had devoured woke up inside my stomach. Even if it was probably foul, there did seem to be air for the guy to breathe in there, and I was gratified to feel his squirming start back up as I stepped under the water.

             His ineffectual punches and kicks from within my steel gut felt like a pleasurable massage as the pounding water relaxed me further. Even though I could no longer make out my normal 6-pack through the Brandon-sized bulge in my stomach, I found I didn’t mind. My foul mood from earlier had been completely replaced with a tranquil satisfaction. I think I enjoyed that shower for 20 minutes, periodically replacing Brandon’s air so the struggles would keep going. I couldn’t make out any distinct words over the gurgling of my digestion kicking into action and the noise of the shower, but I imagined he was probably crying out for help. Not that anyone else would ever hear him again.

             Before long, my massive cock was ready for a second round, and I decided I had time for one more orgasm at the jock-sniffer’s expense before heading home. I let out a massive belch, stealing away what nasty air the kid had left, and leant against the shower wall and stroked to the feeling of his final struggles inside my belly. With less air to provide space, my gut contracted to where I could actually make out some clear outlines of his last attempts at escape. Over here was a hand pressing out on one side, over there was a spasming foot, and that was a screaming face pushing out my belly button. I shot my second load just as Brandon’s struggles began tapering off with asphyxiation. My slightly smaller load circled the shower drain and disappeared right around the same time the 18-year-old expired, soon to be broken down into fuel for my muscles. I made a mental note to double my workouts this week to make sure I put his “donation” to good use.

             Once I’d gotten dressed in some clean clothes, I grabbed the keys from my desk and made my way out of the gymnasium and into the school building proper. It was after 5 by this point, and even the janitors had finished up. The halls were silent and empty. As I was about to pass by Mr. Campos’s music room, I actually heard my name faintly being moaned from inside. Curious but with a strong prediction of what I’d see, I peeked through the door pane with my phone recording the same view. Andres was lying on his back atop a piano bench, feet towards the door, in much the same position I’d been when I’d come down from the earthshattering orgasm. His pants were around his ankles, an average-sized cock stroked with one hand while the other hand had 3 fingers up an invitingly plump ass; eyes closed as he moaned to himself “Fuck me, Frank! Ooooo fuck me harder Coach! Fuck yeah you stud! Shoot that daddy load up my ass and breed me! Fraaaaaaaaaaank!!!” A couple shots of cum made it up to the music teacher’s button-down shirt as he gave a strangled moan.