Rohtu and Riley Pt II

The continuation, due to size constraints:




“Won’t fit, you say?” The orca spoke, still crouching to the wolf’s level on all fours, licking the flavoursome spittle off his chops. He rose up onto his two back legs towering over Riley, tail balancing out behind him. He dragged the wolf to his feet, stunned and short of breath. “Listen” He commanded, wrapping his thick hand around the wolf’s slick head and pressing it side on against the flat expanse of his gut. “Can you hear that, little wolf?” All Riley could hear was the slow, steady heartbeat and the long, purposeful breaths. The soft skin felt good against his damp fur, and he could smell the orca’s powerful musk from the groin placed at his chest, and the panic he had felt only moments before was already a milestone fading over the horizon as he sped away into a dreamy contentment. Then, as if on cue, an ominous gurgle bubbled from the orca’s abdomen, a faint churning, a noise of liquid being disturbed, a slow sloshing, a faint fizz and a deep rumbling echoed up the tower of Rohtu’s body, letting loose a tremendous belch which echoed down the winding paths of the caverns around them.

“That, little wolf, is the sound of my last meal.” The Rohtu said, in a calm, matter of fact way as if he were reading telephone numbers or counting sheep. “He was a little bigger than you, I would say. Five nine, strong arms, bold eyes, he made quite the fight as he was packed inside. But he slotted in after all his struggling, made a good wriggling bulge. I couldn’t move for almost a day, not until he had loosened up a little.” The wolf was listening to every word, hanging on them as if it were a eulogy. “What you’re hearing now, little wolf, is what will be happening to you soon. Seeing as you were shall we say, apprehensive to begin with, perhaps I should let you know what awaits you?”

Riley knew full well what awaited him behind those firm layers of physical perfection.

“Very well. First of all, let us not forget that the saliva that already drips down half your body is the prelude to all this. Remember that not only does it help me squeeze you down my throat, which by the way is a very slow process for one such as your size, but it is digesting you even before you reach the cosy confines of my gut. Notice how your fur feels softer already? That is the enzymes working away at you, slowly, painlessly. But it’s not all painless, oh no. Once you do arrive in my gut, which will be a close fit I’ll admit, you’ll be greeted by the welcoming scent of orca digestion. While you flop around in the darkness you’ll be lovingly basted in a stew of my past meals, my saliva and the main star, the acids. Are you listening, little wolf? This is where it gets interesting.”

Riley nodded feebly – the gurgling continued. “Good. At first it will be like a normal bath. In fact, I’m somewhat envious of my meals for this, the first hour or so of digestion is always such a pleasant experience for the prey. You’ll be warm, tucked neatly into a ball and dripping with wonderful, odorous slime. I do imagine you’ll come to enjoy the smell in time, after all, the longer you are in there the more it will have your own scent. Though I digress. My stomach is a very powerful organ, I’m sure you’ve noticed this, pressed against my abdomen. It will massage you like you’ve never been before, a sensation so complete you will struggle to withstand it. You’ll be twisted, turned, pulled, compressed, squeezed, crushed, crunched, in every direction and in every manner, just to tenderise you, to work those warm, gooey juices into your soft fur and skin. After an hour or so, I believe most of your fur would be gone, and you would start to feel the wonderful stabs of acid on your naked flesh. For most furs I’ve eaten, this is where I get the biggest kick. Most furs will not be used to the feeling of their skin, and so when it is assaulted by my all encompassing stomach walls and my tingling acids it often proves highly erotic for them. I’ve felt many meals in the past masturbating furiously as best they can in the tightness, in the dripping darkness of my merciless belly. You’ll feel the burning little wolf, but it will be electrifying. Not pain, but pleasure. When I see your round, squirming bulge spasming in pleasure, I’ll know you’re on the brink of real digestion. It will be then I’ll take my own pleasure, rubbing over your condensed form as I let myself succumb to pure predatory ecstasy. You’ll feel it, or at least, you would have felt it, for when I start really handling my orcahood, you’ll be coming around to the final stage of your life.

“For the last hour and a half, you would have grown used to the vile stench, you would have welcomed the full body massage, you even would have enjoyed the hot, sticky bath of tingling juices, but not now. Now your skin will start to fray, your extremities will start to fizz and your orifices burn. Now, when you truly start to suffer the horrors of mammalian digestion, I’ll be beating off. You’ll plead, you’ll fight, you’ll try to tear your way out as your skin falls off your body. You’ll sob as the relentless crushing of my stomach forces your agonised face into the brutal slop. There is no escape at this point. All of your wild thrashing will result in nothing more than a gentle wiggling of your bulge underneath my skin. I’ve been known to keep this up for hours, pleasuring myself while countless many like you have agonisingly melted into my intestines. When I do release, that is when I shall sleep you off. You will have only my slumbering breathing and the sound of your own demise to keep you company. You will wish for death, and depending on how generous I am feeling, I may just consider finishing you off in grace with a satisfying belch.”

Riley had heard every syllable of the great orca’s speech. His mind was clear now, free of panic, free of fear and of shame. He nuzzled into the hard abs, not wanting to face Rohtu, only to be within him.

“The rest is just biology.” The orca looked down at the wolf, who seemed to have calmed after the speech, desensitised. He noticed also the wolf had developed a large, throbbing erection - he had been right about this one. He knelt down, face to face with his meal. “So, little wolf, are you ready to be digested?”

Riley looked up to Rohtu’s eyes, still fierce and savage with hunger. “I’ve wanted this all my life, ever since I could jerk off I’d always wanted to do it inside the belly of some great beast. And now I will. Until now I’d never really thought it would be the end of me. I know it will hurt, I know I’ll regret it, but I have to do it, I have to be inside of you. I want to be inside of you, to be your food, to be…” He gulped “…digested”.

The Orca had a victory. There was a greater satisfaction eating a live prey who knew his fate entirely to one who was oblivious of the horror to come. He would enjoy this one for hours. He pressed his snout against the wolf’s chest, inhaling deeply. He was sweating, and when Rohtu nudged his massive jaw underneath Riley’s arms he took in the scent of his hard earned prey. Though Riley’s mind had accepted his fate, his body was still protesting. The orca adored the frenzied pheromones, and took a lick of the damp underarm. Riley simply stood there, his knees weak, while the orca slobbered over his pit, tasting the wolf. His tongue worked down his arm, past his elbow, slipping the wolf’s paw onto the flat, bumpy tongue, the tongue that would soon be pushing him down into Rohtu’s menacing body.

Not yet though. The orca, taking his muzzle to the dripping tip of the wolf’s member let his hot, soggy breath roll over it, causing it to spasm a little. The scent here too was appetising, and it was only a matter of seconds until the sleek black head was slipped under the small wolf’s nutsack, lapping and sniffing the odour of his meal. The sensation of the orca’s gentle lickings in his groin was immense, thought he withstood, saving his seed for the hungry stomach.

When Rohtu was finally back at eye level, his snout dampened with lupine musk and sweat, he placed his hands behind Riley’s head. “Ready, little wolf?”

“Please…” he whimpered, unable to say anything meaningful. He had wanted to say something bold or heroic, something that would leave a legacy behind for generations: ‘The Wolf Who Was Eaten Alive’, but all he felt was an overwhelming desire to be inside and to think no more of it.

And so it began, Riley’s journey to being food was now underway, a process that he knew he could not stop, nor one he wanted to stop. It was no longer a matter of ‘if’, but now just a matter of ‘when’. Just as before, the orca opened his mouth wide, letting his breath waft over the wolf. “That smell, little wolf, will be one hundred times worse deep in my boiling belly” Riley took it in with a deep, long gulp of rotten air from Rohtu’s maw. The raw scent instilled an animalistic fear in him, he spluttered a little, but held himself steady. This stench, he thought, is my new oxygen.

The orca slipped his entire maw over the wolf’s head, cupping his chin with the slobbery tongue. In up to the neck, his nose again brushed the uvula aside as it perched atop the gaping chasm. The maw sealed shut, bathing Riley’s head in the muggy heat, the whirling fumes and slick secretions. The vibrant flesh was dulled in the lack of light, though he could see the mottled patches salivating around his clearly tasty fur.

The jaws opened a little. He felt Rohtu’s hands on his arms, pinning them to his side. The lips pressed against his shoulders. If they slipped inside the humid maw then his fate was sealed, he would be nothing more than meat within the hour, and he was right. The orca thrust the pinned wolf forward as he stretched his beak to the limit, popping the shoulders inside and cramming Riley’s head into the constricting throat. His muzzle was clamped shut in the tight rings, his ears were blocked by soft, twitching flesh and dribble trickled down over his closed eyelids. He tried to open them, but saw nothing, just a black shimmer. He couldn’t breathe easily; his own throat was being crushed by the orca’s. Through his soggy nostrils he drank as much of the putrid air he could, absorbing the smell of rotting fish and acid. The orca hadn’t lied, the smell was atrocious and he knew it would get worse, yet what choice did he have? Meals don’t have opinions, he told himself; he’s just got to let it take him: after all, the next poor victim is going to have to put up with the smell of digesting wolf, the smell of digesting Riley… he shuddered at the thought.

Then came the first swallow. Riley had not expected the tremendous force that hit him. His face and throat was crushed in the onslaught of peristalsis. He felt his bones creak as the sheer pressure forced him to move forward, parting the tiny muscular tube. It was painful, though the waves of spit were indeed making it more bearable. Then he remembered what Rohtu said, it was all just a prelude, he’s already being dissolved by the seemingly innocent saliva. Each passing second made him feel more and more like the morsel he truly was. His arms were now locked to his sides in the taut beak, the tongue slathering over the wolf’s nipples. He could here his predator groaning in pleasure above the sloshing, gurgling innards: he was delicious, he was tasty, he had never thought of describing himself like that before. All his personality and all his intellect all come to nothing: it was what he tasted like that counted now.

Another crushing wave of swallowing brought his shoulders into the throat and his navel onto the tip of Rohtu’s tongue. He cried in pain as it happened, as if his skull was in a vice, but the pain was instantaneous, and in the next moment he was hanging in the stretched, relaxed gullet, the broad tongue working its way over his belly fur and painting it with slobber. He felt his feet leave the ground, the great orca holding him just below his waist. The beak was inclined slightly, so that the lupine’s dripping member leaked down onto the jet black arms. The wolf’s tail hung limply, flicking involuntarily when the predator would lick the right spots. Rohtu slipped his hand around the firm, toned cheek of the half ingested wolf, cupping it in his palm. His fingers felt into the sweaty crevice, looking forward to the moment he would slather his tongue over it, taking in the wonder flavour of wolf musk. He slipped a finger in, feeling a shudder from the trapped male, and proceeded with his meal.

The next swallow sent his chest into the throat and his belly onto the tongue. The pressure rolled along him, squelching in the torrents of drool. He was stretching the orca now, he could feel the tautness of the flesh around him. He was that bulge he envisioned earlier, straining the beast’s black neck such that it reflected the primal light of the fire. The base of his cock now pressed against the lower lip of the orca, dribbling down the chin. He wanted to paw off, but his arms were pinned to his sides by the lips, teeth and tongue. The broad, flat muscle slipped out the maw, brushing past the aching cock smearing it with a ample helping of orca spit, before curling under the scrotum, between his legs and up between the twin furred ass cheeks. Oh how Riley wanted that hot, heavy tongue to wrap around his erection, to seal it in the slobbery, writhing warmth, but the orca would not give him that pleasure. Both males growled, through Riley was now squirming in the tight, assaulting heat. The tongue probed him, slicked him up and pushed: not a swallow, a push. His cock bent against the tongue, embedding it almost painfully into the mattress of spongy tissue. More of his body slipped into the oesophagus, slipping a little now due to his weight. He felt cocooned in the slippery tube, wrapped firm in the orca’s skin, who now look monstrously deformed, as if a trunk of a tree had been shoved into his chest and made his body conform around it. Yet Rohtu felt the stretching as a burning pleasure, with live prey wriggling, breathing, sweating inside him; and boy was this wolf sweating. Thick, heavy musk dripped from the wolf’s groin, and Rohtu slurped it up eagerly, revelling in the wolf’s natural fear and bestial carnality.

The stomach growled; Rohtu swallowed sending the groin to the entrance of his gullet and the knees to the tip of his dribbling beak. Riley got his first taste of Rohtu’s stomach in that moment, as his body was constricted painfully once again, first slipping his muzzle, an then his forehead through the sphincter joining the gurgling sack to the throat. What a stench! He coughed and spluttered hard enough for the predator to know he had just arrived at his destination. Pure, vile, heated stink. Both the smell of death and the smell of pure vitality, but the horrid, acrid aroma of acid and bile were what turned Riley’s stomach. He was gripped, fixed in place so his head was simply dangling in the stifling, putrid air deep within the orca’s digestive system. ‘God’, he thought, ‘how is it this bad? Is this what I’ll become?’ He forgot of the slimy walls that kneaded his unnaturally straightened form, he forgot about his tender, aching member slipping into the gullet, all he knew was revulsion, revulsion that this unearthly smell was what he wanted; this was being eaten alive and whole and dealing with the consequences, dealing with Rohtu’s hungry belly and all it’s biological products.

Much time had passed since he has began his voyage, those shimmering lips seemed like a childhood memory, those pecs which his torso were now gripped by were just as a picture in a magazine, yet Rohtu was not tiring. He was left to hang, head in the stomach, body in the gullet and lower legs in the cold cavern air. The sack gurgled, he sense it churn and writhe, eager to be filled, he knew Rohtu would swallow him again. The squeeze came and his shoulder and nipples slipped into the organ. His muzzle was dipped into a thick, sticky soup of partially digested meat and secretions before sliding out along the contour of the rubbery walls. He had already filled the current volume, but his feet were still outside the mouth, it would indeed be a tight fit, yet he knew Rohtu would manage, he wanted to fit and bulge the predator’s middle so much his outline would be visible so that the whole world could watch as he was slowly transformed from a live wolf to wolf stew. He felt Rohtu taking deep whiffs of his feet which lay just under his nostrils. To the orca, the dusty, clammy scent was fascinating. The toes wriggled as the tongue brushed over them, collecting the salty sweat from the leathery foot pads. He let them slide into his mouth slowly, the toes sinking into the meaty tongue, the heels rubbing along the roof of the mouth. He closed his maw and swished his saliva around them, the paws always tasted so good. However, his hunger and his lust bade him to finish to job, and lifting his maw high to the roof of the cavern, he sent the wriggling toes down into his throat with a hearty gulp.

‘I’m inside” He thought, the idea running in circles like a dog after its tail. ‘I’m inside, I’m inside, I’m inside’. His stomach had been push into the swelling organ, forcing it to stretch and curl the wolf’s head to his navel. He wiggled his toes, feeling the slickness between them as they were sucked down into the body of the beast, for Rohtu had stopped swallowing after the last big one – one which almost crushed the sloppy wolf’s pelvis. Gravity was doing a fine job, the oblong bulge of the throat steadily filled out into a hemisphere in the centre of Rohtu’s abdomen, the powerful washboard abs fighting to maintain their flatness. More and more of the lupine slipped into the stomach, a stream of saliva flowing through the valve his thighs now filled. His cock slapped against his muzzle, but he ignored it, letting the sensation of filling the belly be his only concern. He could stretch it no more – the walls began to churn, moulding his body into a shape that would fit. He slithered around, eager to help the process and let the digestion commence. His knees struggled to fit in, but he started to bend them and they popped through, each one sliding up to the respective shoulder, his shins flowing out with them and then his feet with a slurp. A final burst of spittle from above signalled the sealing of the chamber, severing Riley’s last connection to the world he was born into and giving welcome to the one in which he would die.

The stomach groaned and shifted until a few seconds after his complete ingestion, unsure of the extreme volume held within it There was no movement and near silence, just blood pumping and a slow, laboured breathing. He was inside, his knees around his head, his head against his cock and his ass spread eagled just below the valve from which he came, being drizzled with a thin strand of saliva which seeped delicately into his exposed anus, filling his innards with a sticky warmth. His tail was wrapped around his right leg to keep it from bothering his face, and his arms lay along the contour of his back. But he was inside.

‘This’, he though, ‘is the end of it all. To be digested, to be meat, nothing more than a full belly for a stronger, bigger creature…’. He lay, unable to comprehend how it had happened. In the moment of silence, before the stomach would start it’s work, the wolf felt perfectly safe, held snug in the hot, smelly gut of a powerful orca.

Then it started; the process of turning him from a living, sentient creature into nutrition. A colossal grumble preceded the squirt of some thick, oppressive liquid onto his chest. It stank of vomit and he tried to wipe it away, but his hands were locked into place. He groaned but felt his cock jump. It was vile but it excited him. A sudden contraction pushed his head between his thighs momentarily, his ribs and spine creaking. He yelled the fierce pain lingered a while before dissipating as the stomach walls retracted. Just like the vile stench, the pain turned to a form of dark pleasure when he knew that was the stomach’s way of defeating him, and he wanted to be defeated. He wanted to be subject to the fury of Rohtu’s body, all the worst it can throw at him, the most it can degrade him, he wanted it.

He felt Rohtu hammer on his prison with a few resounding pats, sloshing the thick goo around. “Little wolf” He said, his voice distant and muted, but audible “You are a fine meal, I’m going to enjoy digesting you. Just relax, the first hour should be pleasant enough, then let me enjoy the rest.” The orca slumped down onto the pile of linen and simply rubbed his gut. His glistening red member had started to peak through the tight slit, but he wanted to wait for Riley to be in the full throes of digestion before he would deal with it. Instead he contented himself by examining the faint ridges of the conquered wolf’s arm, shoulder and knee almost bursting from the taut flesh. Occasionally, he would se the outline of the wolf’s face when the stomach shifted him around, pressing it against the barrier of the abdomen. It had an open muzzle, flung back in euphoria or supreme relaxation.

It was a dream come true for the dizzy wolf, who felt his body simmering in the hot pool. His body was repeatedly squirted with horrid smelling gunk from the walls which would then crunch and compact him, making sure to work the digestive agents into him. He loved it. Each ripple contorted his body, spewing the hot liquids across the chamber to baste his body. It was not longer before he was coated in the gloop, hanging from the walls to every part of his body. It didn’t burn, it just felt soft and soothing, causing him to wriggling and buck just to feel it slither and squelch around him. The stomach grew more violent, it began to twist him, but to his joy. After a few contractions his front side was laying in the shallow gunk, he closed his eyes as they slipped under too. His cock tip lay just breaching the surface, and he knew instantly what awaited him. Against his naked flesh the acid was glorious: it felt luxuriously soft and slick and so hot. He thrust into it, submerging his member into the liquid and along the taut stomach wall which squeezed in response. It crushed the breath out of him, so that when he inhaled he took in a mouthful of stomach slime. He had the recollection of vomiting and having that taste in his mouth, it was exactly the same. Except oddly enough it tasted somewhat of fresh meat in a frying pan or oven – fresh stewed wolf.

The cycle continued. Every 5 minutes or so the orca’s belly would turn him like a rotisserie chicken while crunching down on him every few seconds. His chest hurt, he wondered if he had broken a rib, but the pain only grew and grew with each contraction. His joints ached, some from not moving for too long, some from the harsh movements of the sack. It didn’t matter, food didn’t complain. He welcomed each spasm as it crushed his body, rippling walls of soft, sticky flesh pulsed along him, twisted him, kneaded the hot, gurgling slime into his skin. His fur was thinning and the heat was rising, yet the stomach did not shrink. He did not know how long he had been at the mercy of the orca’s digestive system, he only wanted to stay. Rohtu was right about one thing, the smell was something he had grown used to. The stench of digestion, of warm, rumbling bellies, of loud wet belches, it was the smell of a predator in the most base form. He rejoiced each time more and more slime was sprayed onto him, inhaling the giddy scent and thinking ‘Yes, eat me, digest me’ as the crude, viscous liquid rolled slowed along his patchy fur and into the pool.

It was a gradual process, but he soon noticed the pinpricks over his body. First his arms and lower legs, then the valley between his thighs, then his armpits and back. His fur was falling from him, and, could he see it, his skin was a deep red, agitated by the powerful ooze. His skin felt alive, independent of his body. This was what Rohtu had meant. He was over an hour in, an hour of slow and slimy digestion behind that perfect white skin and now he was doomed. He felt it more now than before. He began to twist and turn, the tingling sending his cock wild, spurting pre over his muzzle and chest. The walls contracted much more frequently now and with greater vigour. Each twisted his body, pulled him, compressed him. He knew the stomach was trying to tear him apart. This was the moment: this was where he’d let Rohtu know he was sizzling.

He slipped his cock into his mouth, the usual taste of cum and musk drowned by that of the orca’s digestive juices. His mouth was comparatively cool to the stomach, but the taste of his organ combined with the taste of Rohtu’s reeking gut was divine. He quickly slipped it out, sensing the belly was turning him. His cock slipped into a groove laden with the foul smelling gunk which had melted all his fur. He could smell his skin cooking, he felt his bones crunch and grind with each flex of the muscles, and it served to make him pound the stomach wall with abandon. He was at the pinnacle – his destiny to be trashed in the furnace of another’s body, in the slime of a stomach’s secretions, underneath the godlike structure of the male around him. Rohtu, feeling this, began tease his malehood.

“Ah little wolf, you’ve lasted a long time…but now you’ll feel me take you, I want you to squirm as you burn.” He stroked his dripping tool with one hand and caressed the struggling bulge with the other. “You’ll be nothing but soup soon, little wolf, soup and bones.” Riley heard all of this, he began to feel true pain, but his ecstasy pulled him through it. He felt Rohtu’s hand caressing his churning belly through the layer of fat and muscle. He was trapped, burning in the most rancid stench imaginable, bathing in the juices of another animal’s body, being crushed by an orca who was masturbating while watching his meal bulge and wiggle. ‘Oh god’ he though, ‘I’m dying. He’s doing it. I’m food…meat…god it hurts.” The pain, the smell, the tightness, the rhythm of the orca’s jerking, the ecstasy of digestion, the wolf could bear it no more. Crying out in agony and euphoria, jets of burning white cum shot into the stomach walls. They splattered onto his naked, blistering skin as if cool ointment, they splattered onto his muzzle which he licked up in earnest. His orgasm lasted minutes as his body was destroyed. With his final spurts he cried as the acid began to eat at his eyes. He thrashed, tired and weak, but he only mixed the thick slop that was his essence. “Rohtu!” He yelled, his throat hoarse with the fumes. “Please… Rohtu…please…” He begged in sobs. ‘Just food’, he though, ‘just food’. He felt a strong convulsion, independent of his agonising prison: it was the orca blowing his thick, salty load. The poor wolf would soon be in those heavy testes, just as he would be in those firm arms and flexing tail, that loving tongue – he would also be sucked down into his intestines to be turned to heavy, stinking excrement. He had got what he’d always wanted: to be eaten and digested.

Rohtu took a finger of his thick cream and lapped it up as his meal began to spasm in agony. “You did well, little wolf.” He said, kneading his gurgling stomach. “Consider this a repayment”. His pressed hard onto his rounded dome of a gut, forcing the stifling air in his stomach out with a rasping belch. The scent of wolf lingered in the air as the squirming stopped. The orca slumped down to rest, unaware of the tender footfalls of an inquisitive fox.