#ghost vore

I idle-mindedly tap my pencil, looking over the plans I’ve written. “Nothing seems right here.”

“What’cha doing?” Echo asks, floating by and wrapping the lower half of her pale ghost form around my waist. “Boring science stuff?”

“Yes,” I sigh, biting my lip to hide how much I enjoy her comfort. (I don't want to give her the satisfaction of teasing me.) “I want to figure out what happens when a soul possesses something. Is it full control? Partial? Can they feel anything?”

“Don’t you have that golem?”

“Homunculi,” I correct. “And her name is Sirfris. She can’t fully feel through her limbs, but she’s just one. I need a larger sample size, but unfortunately, we don’t have enough ghosts.”

“And just how will drawing out in your notebook help with that?”

“They’re just sketches for automata,” I answer. “But each time I keep looking into them, and adding those parts to Sirfris, they just feel like they have no feeling.”

“What about something softer?” Echo proposes. “We’ve got a couple of spare plushies from the princess.”

“Perfect!” I answer, getting up. “Time to test the theory if fluffy stuff provides a better touch sensation!” We march our way to the room, widely opening the door to see plushes of all sorts of sizes – some a bit larger than me, others smaller. “So, just pick one to possess then.”

“Roger roger,” Echo says, floating into one of the dolls – a human-sized teddy bear with white fur, still somehow pristine. Now coated with a pale blue aura, it stands on its hind legs like any regular bipedal animal. “Ah, never gets old,” she claims, sighing with some sort of interest.”

“Well, any feeling?” I ask, setting down a toolbox I had brought with me. I touch the palm with a sharp screwdriver, lightly prodding at it. 

The bear merely shakes its head. “Nope, nothing.”

“Tch,” I sigh.

“Well, there is another way to test this.”

“And what would that be?” I ask, turning around.

Only to be met with a large plushy open maw.

“WAIT-” I cry out, only for my head to be covered with darkness. With little effort and a simple flourish, I’m left floundering in the air, legs kicking out. There’s no throat, but the pull of gravity is enough to pull me down the teddy’s throat. I fall face first into some soft plush, light peering out from the worn out seams. I pound at the chest, only to be yanked back and left with pale white stuffing surrounding my body and limbs. “REALLY ECHO?!”

“I dunno what you’re talking about,” she teases, reaching a paw that pushes at the bottom of the chest and raises me up. “I mean, you did walk into this.”

“Yeah,” I scream, “Because I thought you wouldn’t immediately devour me!”

“Well, skill issue,” she answers as I start trying to climb out. However, plush starts pulling down at my dress and drags me back into this not-stomach. “Oh no,” she starts. “You’re staying down here.”

“Ugh,” I groan, even if the stuffing starts to feel like a blanket the way it collects onto my limbs and shoulders. “Just let me out, I have work to do!”

“As fun as this is,” she asserts, “You haven’t slept for what, more than 6 hours?”

“5 actually.”

“Not helping. So, you’re staying here.”

“Ugh,” I groan, crossing my arms. “Fine,” I admit. “I wish this was warmer, but-”

“Oh I can help with that,” Echo answers, the blue aura now stronger around the fluff. 

Before I can blink, I’m smothered by the fluff that overtakes me. It begins to heat as a coil wraps around me, making it all start to feel warm and comforting. Much like Sirfris’s stomach… 

“That’s good,” I admit to my own chagrin.

“See? So just get reasonable sleep, and-”

“Fine,” I sigh. “Just grab me my toolkit. It’s got a pillow in it.”

“Alright then.” Echo moves the bear, each limb slowly moving as it then grabs the toolkit. With another fluid motion, it swallows the kit that then falls down. “There you go.”

“You fool,” I tease, opening it to find some proper Pain Sensors.

“Oh,” she realizes.

I stab a few metal bits into parts of the stomach, waiting for a reaction. The plush pauses, then seeming to look over its arms.

“Echo?”

“Woah, I can… feel,” she answers. “It’s not a strong feeling, but it’s there.”

Plush again starts to wrap around me, even starting to cushion my hair. I slow my breathing, taking the moment to enjoy each slow press, each little bump as my back and stomach are pummelled by so many small specks.

“I can feel you,” she continues, spectral arms now curling around me. “You’re a bit cold, but there.”

“So it did work,” I remark. “That’s good then. We’ll still need more subjects though.”

“And how will you catch them?” she asks, playfully manifesting her face in front of me. 

“Like this!” I answer, opening my mouth wide and clamping down on her spectral head as my teeth find their mark. She struggles as she’s slurped down, the plush falling down as I finish consuming this feisty ghost now pounding at my stomach walls.

“Oh come on!” she cries out.

“So, what have we learned about forcibly consuming someone?” I ask, rubbing over as more tremors start to form.

“That it’s an amazing feeling!” she answers.

“We ask for consent,” I answer, sighing as I open my mouth wide, her spectral form floating out.

“Oh, and what about that plan of capturing ghosts Ms. Ghostbuster? A lot of consent is involved there, isn’t it?”

“Of course I wouldn’t use that,” I scoff. “I’d just politely talk to them, nothing more.”

“Urgh, of course your goody-two-shoes self would do that. The things I’d do to you…”

“Oh?” I prod, smirking as I pull her in the pile of fluff. “Prove it,” I answer. “Prove you’re more bark than bite.”

At first you had wondered why the house had been so cheap. Yes, it was old and in need of some refurbishments, but you didn’t mind that at all. The realtor had told you that many people had complaints of noise, and other things that they refused to disclose. Yes, the atmosphere was a bit eerie, and there were some weird groaning noises coming from the pipes at night, but you could adapt.

But then it became more than just pipes. Sometimes the faucets ran with blood red liquid. The flowers out in the garden seemed to hiss and snap at you. When you got out of the shower, you’d find messages like “GET OUT” and “LEAVE” written on the mirror. There was no doubt that a previous occupant was not happy that you were here. But you didn’t care. Ghost or not, there was no way you were moving back to your dingy old apartment.

One night, you found yourself unable to rest. That eerie atmosphere had been intensifying all week, and throughout the day you felt like you were being watched, glared at. Dread slowly crept through you, fear seeping into your bones, and you couldn’t understand why.

Your bedroom door suddenly swung open. You gasped, pulling the covers up to your face, daring to peek. There was a man standing there; he had handsome, sharp features and a somewhat chubby belly. He wore a top hat that paired perfectly with his Victorian era suit, and a scowl on his face.

“You’re persistent, I’ll give you that,” he muttered, marching up to you. “But that ends tonight!” You shook your head, your voice caught in your throat. The gentleman had an otherworldly glow about him, and his hands were like a freezing mist as he grasped your shoulders, devoid of the warmth of life. “This has worked on everyone before you, no reason it should fail now.”

“W-Wait-!” you cried out, watching with wide eyes as he lunged forward, easily engulfing your head in his mouth. Unfortunately he wasn’t as incorporeal as he looked, and your hopes that you would phase right through him were snuffed out as ectoplasmic saliva dripped down your cheek. The specter kept a tight hold on you, gripping your arms as he forced your head and shoulders into his flexible throat.

You whimpered as you slid down the ghostly gentleman’s gullet inch by inch. It was now crystal clear why all the other buyers had left. You couldn’t blame them now…your panicking mind was racing. Would this angry specter have mercy on you? Were you about to be digested by a dead man? Your legs kicked wildly, but your devourer wasn’t bothered at all. He held onto your hips, his belly expanding as your legs were slurped down with frightening efficiency.

As the ghost’s belly rounded out, you found that you could actually see out into your bedroom. You reached out, vainly hoping that you could push your arm through to the outside. But your hand pressed against a gooey stomach wall, refusing to yield enough for you to break free. Your legs joined you in the slimy pouch, forcing you to curl up within. You sat in shock, gingerly pushing around. Your struggles soon picked up, intensifying with your urge not to stew within this man’s otherworldly guts.

“Why are you doing this?!” you cried, pushing against the walls of your slimy, spectral prison. “I didn’t mean any harm!” The ghost pressed down on you and scoffed.

“Of course you didn’t…You’d just be gutting our home, tearing everything we cherished apart and forcing us to endure years of our afterlife putting up with you and your rowdy activities!” he growled. He glared down at you through his clear stomach walls, making you meekly shrink back.

“N-no, I wasn’t going to do that…hell, I can’t even afford to do that…” you said softly, shivering. “If I wanted that, I would have just moved to the city. I really do like this place…”

The specter fell silent, a hand resting over your form. He mulled over your words, his harsh gaze gradually softening the more he looked over you. You seemed genuine, just confused and scared. He’d swallowed and scared away plenty of other residents, but this time guilt was starting to creep in.

“Oh…perhaps I judged you too soon…I apologize…” he said, carefully rubbing over you. “I won’t chase you out, then. As long as you don’t mind living with ghosts.” Relief instantly swept over you. You sighed, laying back within his gut.

“So…you’ll let me out?” You asked. You felt safer now, especially since you didn’t feel any tingling or other signs of digestion. It was just horribly slimy, and just a bit chilly. Not to mention sticky too…but you could actually get used to this otherwise.

“Yes…in the morning. I’ll even help you wash the ectoplasm out of your clothes,” he said. “My name is Garrett, by the way. We can talk more in the morning.” Garrett laid back, pulling the blanket up over his full belly. “I think my husband will like you.”