Treating The Dog

A new Gris and Dwayne story.  Featuring petplay, food, and vore.  Let me know what you think!

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Gris hesitated when he reached the apartment door.  Not because he was nervous, but because he knew that the moment he stepped in the house, the roleplay would begin.

And that excited him.

He could hear his breathing as he took out his key and slid it inside the doorknob.  The lock clicked open, and with that, the human took a deep breath, and unlocked the door.

“Hey boy!” he called inside, shutting the door behind him.  “I’m home!”

At that, his boyfriend Dwayne came bounding down the hall and crashed into the human, barking and licking the whole way.  Gris was thrown to the ground, and giggled at the tongue slobbered on his face; usually the wolf anthro was so composed in their roleplay sessions.  But this unbridled happiness was great too.

“Get off of me, boy; I brought something for you,” Gris said.  At that, his “pet” stopped licking and removed his paws from on top of the human.  Dwayne panted on all-fours, sticking out his tongue as he did so, and titled his head in eager confusion.  “I brought some treats!” Gris announced, reaching into his bag.  Inside was a twelve-pack of fresh biscuts, and he took out one of them.

Upon seeing it, Dwayne’s eyes widened, and he leaped forward happily, eyes on his prize.  “Ok, ok!” Gris said, grinning.  “Here you go.”  He lowered the treat and held it out to the anthro wolf.  His “dog’s” eyes widened immediately upon seeing the food in reach, and he dived forward, scarfing up the biscut.  Gris felt sharp teeth and a slobbering tongue graze his palm as the treat was devoured, and gulped down quickly by his boyfriend’s waiting maw.

“Sorry, that’s it for now,” Gris said, watching as the wolf licked his hand, catching any crumbs that had fallen from the biscuit.  “I’ll save the other ones for another—”

Gris stopped.  His pet had a strange expression on his face, like his was fixated by something.  It slowly licked the human’s hand, even though there were no more crumbs to be found.  Then he licked again, and again, each tasting getting more rapid.  Gris laughed nervously.  “Sorry boy, there isn’t any more biscut, so--”

Gris’s words froze as the dog opened its mouth.  Tongue, maw, and slobber were showcased to the human in one quick movement, and he watched in horror as it all clamped down on his arm.

“Let me go!  What are you /doing/, boy?” Gris asked, panic in his voice.  But the wolf refused to release him, and his grip on the human’s arm was firm.  The dog wasn’t biting down on his skin, he was more . . . sucking it, like a massive lollipop.  It almost felt nice, but more than that, it made Gris nervous.

And he had a reason to be.  Because in the next moment, his pets wallowed him down with a massive /gulp/.  Gris was shoved forward as his arm entered the canine’s throat, pulled downward by a strong esophagus toward a terrible destination.  “S-Stop that!” Gris shouted.  “Bad boy, /bad/!  Let go of me!”

The dog was ignoring the human’s orders, and Gris could see him salivating.  Before he could think that maw opened wide again, and slurped more of him in.  This time, when Gris was shoved forward, he found his head between the canine’s teeth.

“Stop!  No!” Gris said.  But his dog was ignoring him, it seemed.  The only response was an eager tongue, which caressed his face and lapped up his skin.  The human shivered at the tasting, and tried to pull out of the mouth, but his dog clamped down on him, sucking at his head like he’d sucked on Gris’s arm.  It almost felt like a massage, but one giving certain terrifying overtones: /you’re just my food now/.

And then, the wolf swallowed.  Gris found /himself/ being shoved forward, and he was forced to dive right into his pet’s waiting throat.   The escophagus greeted him with a /glck/, and the tight, cramped space tightened around the human’s head and neck, tighter than the mouth had been.  If Gris wasn’t sure of his place before, he certainly knew it now.

More swallows above, these more rapid.  Gris slid quickly down the esophagus as his pet ate up his flesh, feeling his chest and other arm enter the dog’s eager maw before long.  And he entered the stomach, popping from the tight throat into a wide, mysterious cave, smelling of rotten food and acid galore.  This triggered the human’s panic reflex, and he thrashed about, trying to get out, but it was no use—he was too far inside, and his dog was too strong.

The wolf continued to shove Gris down, and he was pushed into the growling belly, forced to curl up inside of it.  Outside, his chest and arm were swallowed up, and his legs were quickly taken in—soon, only his ankles and feet rested outside the dog’s ravenous mouth.  Gris, stuck in the fetal position in the cramped belly, prayed that the dog wouldn’t take the last swallow, would spit him up, /anything/ but this.  But it was too late, and the final gulp sealed his fate within the wolf.  His feet slid down the throat, and joined him in the stomach, which grumbled eagerly around its food as it prepared for digestion.

Gris could feel the dog moving about--where was he going?  The human heard him let out an approving bark, then made what sounded like chewing sounds . . . oh fuck, oh no.  Before he knew it gunk was raining down from above, showering on his skin, half-chewed fragments of a food that smelled strangely familiar. . . oh.  He recognized the biscuits now; the dog found the other treats he’d had bought, only adding insult to injury to Gris’s position.

He felt the dog walking, and as the stomach settled, he knew it would all be over soon.  The human closed his eyes, and let the growling belly lull him to sleep.

__________

“Gris?  Gris?!”

Upon hearing his boyfriend’s voice, the human woke up.  He was still in the belly—the food had dried somewhat on his skin, though most of hit had remained moist in the wet space.  “Wazzat?” Gris muttered, rubbing his eyes as best he could.  “Sorry babe, I was taking a nap.”

“Oh, ok, good.”  He heard Dwayne let out a sigh of relief.  “I knew you were safe from the antacid, but when you didn’t respond I got worried.”

“Sorry.”  Gris yawned, feeling guilty.  “I didn’t mean to.”

“It’s ok, no worries,” Dwayne said soothingly.  He patted his stomach, and Gris felt it on the inside.  “I’m glad you’re ok.  And. . .” Gris could practically hear Dwayne’s smirk.  “I should top from the bottom more often.”

“Agreed!” Gris said eagerly.  “That was a lot of fun.  I really enjoyed it.”

“And the extra humiliation at the end wasn’t too much?”

“No, not at all!  I mean, aside from the fact that I’m going to need some extra time in the shower after this,” Gris teased.

“Don’t worry, I’m sure I can help clean you off,” Dwayne said sultrily.  “Just as soon as you’re done in there.  I’ll set a timer for an hour and check in after that, ok?”

“Ok.”  Gris smiled.  “Thanks.”

“Of course, babe.

“Love you.”

“Love you too.”