What Is Happening Me? (vore)

Chapter 1

Doctor Smithers was never a nice man, though he was certainly generous with other people's money. So the little man got me three orders of pork ribs when I asked at Big Town Banky Blain's Rockabilly Barbecue, since his work would pay for them. The ribs were delicious, they were much sweeter and leaner than most, making them my favorite by far. But our dinner wasn't really important. I looked at the doctor when we returned to our work/home.

Smithers had been walking me through a series of experimental medical procedures, though the fine details of what they were doing and why weren't clear. But I knew it was a damned big deal. Such a big deal that they paid me ten grand to test it. During that time I was closely observed by several doctors, only one of whom did I know by name. I also received a worrisome amount of "minor procedures," which usually meant that I would have Smithers give me injections in my stomach. They hurt far more than normal shots, and caused me more than a bit of nausea. A fact that wouldn't have bothered me that much, if the shots didn't also make me ravenous for the rest of the day.

One day, after a nap, I awoke in the cold, clinical, and nearly sterile room I was given, with a small hole in my belly. It was tiny, so small that I almost didn't notice it. After waking I decided to go get some breakfast. When I stepped out of my bedroom, into a hallway that looked just as sterile, if a bit aged. I saw a familiar man scurrying down the hall. "What is this?" I shouted at doctor Smithers, while pointing at my stomach, and jogging up to him. I said, "My stomach hurts like hell, and has a tiny hole in it too! The doctor sighed deeply and said, "You didn't read your contract with Pharmatech very closely, did you?" I grimaced as I thought back to that with regret. Then I answered honestly, "No, I mainly just looked at the time required and the pay." He sighed again, then said, "You basically sold Pharmatech your bodily autonomy, we can do whatever we want to you for the duration of your stay here." Smithers sighed yet again, making the tiny man look like a petulant child, he then continued, "Up to and including surgeries, even without your knowledge. A few of the things we are doing only work if you don't know about them beforehand. It's complicated." He then gave a satisfied nod, as if telling me that were a full explanation, Smithers continued, "So, that's actually the seventh time we have drugged your dinner and given you non-invasive surgery while you were out." I felt the blood drain from my face as the man continued, "Don't worry. They've all been safe, simple procedures. We will tell you before doing anything major." With that the doctor slipped through a door in the hallway. I heard a bolt slide into place, locking the door before I could say another word. So I sighed and felt my stomach rumble, "How am I already hungry again?" I said to nobody in particular, as I walked back to my room, and the mini fridge full of snacks therein.

Technically, I was supposed to follow my doctors' instructions. But, most of the time, there was nothing in particular that I had to do. So, I ended up eating a lot of barbecue from Big Town, which was close enough to walk to, and had agreed to give me all the food I could eat, so long as Pharmatech foot the bill. To their credit, the corporation always paid them, as far as I knew anyway.

This continued for another month, when Smithers gave me another shot, and a ride to Big Town. After getting yet another shot, I stepped into the parking lot and looked around at the place. We were in what appeared to be an old military base that had been repurposed by Pharmatech to serve as a testing ground for whatever it is they were doing to me. I got into the car, eating a granola bar that Smithers had given me to tide me over when the hunger caused by the shot was making me, "pissy," to use his word for it. Smithers hit a button on his key fob to unlock the door. I opened the door and got into the passenger's seat without a word, Smithers got into the driver's side and began to drive in silence.

As Smithers drove, I realized something terrifying, I knew almost nothing about what was going on. But I knew the doctor would never tell me anything useful. So I focused on what I could see, staring into the mirror to clear my head. Curly, brown locks of hair fell down, just passed my shoulders. It didn't show in the mirror, but I knew that was where they ended. Beneath my hair was a pair of glassy, blue eyes, that were nearly grey.

Despite actively trying not to think about it, my mind returned to my position. All I knew was that the whole thing was being put on by Pharmatech. Then I thought about the injection mark again. I could see why the doctors thought the mark would go unnoticed. I could hardly even see it while knowing exactly where to look. If anything it's a surprise that I found it at all. Then I remembered the pain it had caused me, and marveled at how quickly I had forgotten

Once the car had stopped, we got out and began walking toward the barbecue joint. Smithers said, "Aren't you sick of barbecue? I wouldn't be opposed to going elsewhere." I said, "No. Meat." My stomach growled, and Smithers said, "Most places have dishes with meat." I shook my head, and said, "But most places water it down with bread and veggies." My stomach growled again as I continued, "I've never been pregnant before. But I've spoken to women who have, and this feels even worse than what they describe as a craving. I need meat. If you gave me a burger I'd just take out the patty and eat that. So, here I can just order a ton of meat straight." Smithers shrugged, and said, "You know, that's actually what I expected, more or less." As he got out of the car, mumbling, "I'll just eat veggies when I'm alone." I got out of the car and went inside with Smithers.

When we got in, I ran up to the counter, to see a fat man with a name tag that simply read, "Bubba," working there. I silently thanked God that there was no line, and asked Bubba, "What's the fastest thing to come out after it's ordered? I want one of those. Bring it out soon as it's done. Then I want like, a dozen racks of ribs." Bubba laughed, it was a deep, echoing thing that almost covered the sound of Smithers entirely. The doctor said, "Let's make that a rack of ribs. Hell, make it two, I'll have some too." The barbecue guy said, "I'll get her a dozen bones, that's already a lot, but yeah, a dozen racks sounds pretty crazy," he then laughed again, saying, "But I like your spirit girl." As he pressed buttons on the cash register. Then Bubba said, "Sit down where you like. I'll send the tab to Pharmatech." I stood by the counter as we waited, I wanted to get my food the very second it comes out. Smithers ignored me and went back to the table.

I grabbed the food the second it was out, it looked like a very thin steak. I grabbed it out of Bubba's hands and ate as I walked to the table. When I noticed him, Smithers was talking into his recorder, saying, "subject's appetite seems to be growing faster than expected. The meat craving theory seems correct as well." He continued to ramble until my attention was pulled away from him by two things. First, I ran out of food, which made me want to cry, for all of two seconds. Then, the second thing happened, I noticed Bubba carrying a tremendous platter of ribs to our table. I snatched a rib off of the plate before the guy could even put down the food. He laughed, and said, "I love it when a customer has a good appetite. It bodes well for," then he seemed uncomfortable for a moment, and said, "uumm, for the business. For sales." He then put down the food, and said, "Well, enjoy." As he stepped away in a hurry.

This place put an unusually small amount of sauce on their ribs. But, I was honestly glad. I wanted to taste the meat more, and shuddered as I tooka bite, then I said, "Oh yes, yes," as I ate. I said "yes" another couple times before realizing that I sound like a character from a porno and shut my mouth. It wasn't until I had finished stripping the meat from my fifth bone that I even noticed anything else. Smithers was looking at me like I was an animal at the zoo. When he noticed that I was watching him, Smithers said, "So, this may sound odd, but changes to your appetite are actually quite important to our study. You've already eaten more food than I could stomach if I tried. How do you feel?" I hadn't even realized how much I had eaten. I didn't feel hungry anymore. But I wasn't exactly full either. I answered honestly, and said, "Well, like I want to keep eating." And set aside a bone. As I continued to eat, I felt certain that this was not enough food. Like, even a dozen actual racks of ribs wouldn't be enough. My stomach wanted more, wanted a lot more. As I glanced across the table I saw something that certainly was enough. "Doctor Smithers," I said, as I had an even stranger thought. He was big enough to be a meal I suppose, barely. He could stand to put some meat on his bones before I put his meat on my own. Then it hit me. That thought wasn't just strange, it was insane. Yet, it felt incredibly right. It felt so right that I simply couldn't shake it. He should eat a tremendous order of barbecue like me, and he should do so for every meal until he is fat enough to eat. Smithers finished his ribs and stood, saying "I'm done, so I'll go listen to some tunes in the car. Don't take too long, or you'll have to walk back to the base."

The moment the door swung shut behind Smithers, the man who worked here approached my table, looking around conspiratorially before saying, "Hello miss, I saw the way you were looking at your friend just now. I know what you're thinking," and he licked his lips. My head didn't go anywhere normal in response to that, it went to how, if this man tried to report me, I could silence Bubba by eating him. He was certainly fat enough already. But, before I could come up with a plan, the man shocked me, saying, "I recognize the look every time. It's why Banky has me working the front despite my problems dealing with people. I have a knack for finding others who would eat another human being." He then grinned, saying, "You want to fatten him up first though. I'd be thinking the same thing. He is such a skinny little man. So, how's this. I'll help you fatten him up a bit, slip him a bit extra in whatever he eats. The man seems to be quite disciplined in how he orders, but all of that discipline is in the ordering phase, he has none once he has food in front of him. So, he probably wouldn't even notice a few hundred extra calories of meat in his meals. Just bring him down here as often as you'd like. I'm not sure why they care, but Pharmatech pays your tabs quickly enough. So, there's no reason not to come on down as much as you like," my stomach growled, cutting the man off. Before I could say anything, he smiled at me and said, "Now, you sound hungry, so I'll leave you to your food. But don't forget my offer." And he began walking back to the counter, without waiting for my reply. I grabbed another rib, wondering how exactly Bubba was bad at dealing with people, he seemed fine to me. Once the rib was finished, I took my leftovers and Smithers's when I saw that he had left some as well. Then went to the car, before my ride could leave.

"Why does it hurt?" I asked the doctor, while rubbing my belly and getting in the car "Really?" He incredulously replied as he started the car. Smithers rolled his eyes and said "You practically ate a whole pig back there." My stomach growled and I cleared my voice before saying, "Then let me rephrase the question. Why am I still so hungry that my stomach hurts?" I said, while opening our leftovers, with one hand, and clutching my stomach with the other. As I did, my stomach growled even louder, emphasizing my point. I continued, "Why do I feel like I haven't eaten all day?" as I began to strip the meat off of a rib, groaning or moaning in a mix of pain and satisfaction. Then I asked him "Why do I still feel like I need to eat more," and I shrieked the words, "Even after eating enough food for three people, and even while I am currently eating!" I then took another bite and realized that I was shouting, when I had intended for it to be a simple question. So, I tried to calm myself down with more meat, ignoring another growl that issued from my stomach, even as I ate. The man in the lab coat said, "Listen, this is st-" for my stomach to growl loudly enough that I couldn't hear his words after that. I ate faster, then stopped briefly to cringe as a tremendous wave of hunger engulfed my mind. But why? I've been eating so much. As I impotently pled with the universe to end my hunger, I did my best to remain calm. Still, I continued to lose my cool, and asked Smithers "One more time poindexter, what did you say?" asking him to repeat himself as I motioned him to continue. The man said, "This stuff is brand new. You're the first person it's been used on." I glared at him as my stomach growled again, sending an, even greater, wave of pain through my body. Then I returned all of my attention to eating, maybe I won't feel hungry if I finish all of this.

But, no, the hunger grew rapidly, even as I ate. I felt like something was horribly wrong, and clutched my stomach in pain, grimacing until the suffering died down. I exhaled through gritted teeth and asked, "How long till it stops?" with my stomach growling again. As I ate, the man shouted, hardly audible over my stomach, "A year maybe?" I shrieked "What?!?!" angrily. Smithers said, "It's permanent, but I can reverse it in a year. Two, tops." My stomach buried my shriek of anger under an even louder growl. The pain was getting worse by the moment, and my stomach grew louder as well. I realized that I was out of food and seized the man by the shoulder, saying "What do I do now?" in pain as much as anger. Smithers stopped in our parking lot. I hadn't even realized that he was driving till now. I tried to forget that as the doctor said, "Listen. I can get you more food in like, forty minutes." I screamed loud enough that my throat hurt, "FORTY MINUTES?!?!" As I tightened my grip on his shoulder.

I glared at the man and shouted, "You will feed me, THIS FUCKING SECOND!" into his ear as my grip tightened. I didn't even notice that the man was screaming in pain until the blood squirting out of his shoulder brought my mind back from the hunger. I felt my heart speed up in shock as the man began to cry. As blood soaked the weeping man's shoulder and trickled down my arm I was taken aback by a realization. The man's blood smelled delicious. It smelled so good that the smell became my whole world as the man wept. I hardly even heard his quivering voice say, "I'm so sorry. Just let me go and I'll get you. . ." I don't even know what he said next. I felt myself drawn to my hand and the blood on it. After a moment, I licked a bit of blood off of my hand, it was delicious, my stomach growled far louder, demanding more. Demanding a lot more. So I put my finger into my mouth and sucked as much blood as I could get off of it. I felt my face burning up. The blood wasn't just good, it was orgasmic, and almost literally. But it was not enough, and I quickly sucked my fingers dry.

When I was able to even notice him, I heard Smithers apologize to me again and again as I felt my body moving on its own. The next thing I knew, my hand had settled into the indentation that it had made in the man's shoulder. I felt his bones grinding down to nothing beneath my fingers, ignoring the screams of fear and pain. I said the same thing as the man simultaneously, though I said it with a resigned sorrow, as the man shrieked at the top of his lungs in pain and fear, "I am sorry." I pulled the man out of his seat, and toward myself. I didn't know why, at this point I was acting entirely on instinct. All that instinct could say was that I had to eat. I had to eat a lot, and I had to do it right now.

The doctor gave an incoherent shriek that I will never forget. The thought in my mind wasn't anger, it wasn't even hunger. I was marveling at how light the little man felt as I pulled him into myself. I felt my mouth open wide, wider than I would have thought possible mere seconds ago. I pulled the screaming man into my mouth, then began swallowing him whole, like a snake, without so much as chewing. I felt tremendous pressure pressing out from within my throat. It was only pressure, but it felt wonderful. It felt like an orgasm, pressing out of me with a blisteringly hot sensation of pleasure. The sensation was so overwhelming that it shoved all other thought and feeling from my mind. It was like an electric fire of sensation. Like an orgasm that I felt in every last inch of my body. As I swallowed again and again I felt Smithers going down my throat. It was a delicious friction that made me wish the sensation would never end. I didn't gag, even though I swallowed a dozen times while the man blocked my throat. My only thought beyond the sensation was how I needed more, how I could never let this stop.

By the time I finished swallowing the man down I had a new sensation and a new thought. My stomach felt painfully full, But I felt a blissed-out sensation, like afterglow after a particularly intense session in bed. I could feel the man thrashing against my stomach, and felt a tremendous sense of victory, like this was the greatest triumph of my life. As I basked in the feeling, I realized something. I could feel movement in my stomach. Though the movement was rapidly dying down to nothing. No doubt caused by the man's suffocation and death. Wait, death? I just killed a man, didn't I? Why did I feel no guilt? Whatever, no sense in panicking about it, I felt what I felt, and that is all. The overwhelming fullness was something special, something blissful, something beyond what words can describe.

As I felt the throbbing echo of the fullness inside my stomach I realized something. The hunger was gone, it was really gone. Not like the rack of ribs that kind of, sort of, reduced the feeling for a while. I felt fulfilled as well as filled. I leaned against the car door, and looked down at myself. My stomach bulged out dramatically, but less so than I would have thought with a whole person inside of it. The feeling of pleasure remained as an echo. If eating the man was comparable to sex, then this was akin to something rubbing my clit. It felt good, in a similar sort of way, but it was a less intense, lighter, more surface level sort of thing.

As I considered what had just happened, I was hit by a thought again, hard enough that I said it out loud, "Wait, why am I so calm about this?" I should be panicked, screaming, guilty, or afraid, anything really. But no, it was like I hadn't just killed someone and eaten him, but had simply read about it or seen it on a movie. Hell, I felt good, really good. It was like there was a hole in my life that was finally filled. As the movement in my belly finally died down completely, I felt that odd sense of accomplishment again. It was like I had just aced a test or something. I can't wait till I can do this again. Wait, again? Am I going to be a serial killer now, and why does the thought excite me so much? The thought didn't frighten me in the slightest, but that idea was terrifying. What had I become?

I walked back to my room and laid down on my bed, still feeling that sort of afterglow, still feeling like this was the best thing I had ever done, and still looking forward to doing it again. I couldn't stop smiling, and fell asleep to the thought of how good that had felt, and how it would feel if I ate even more. Maybe someone bigger, maybe multiple people. All I knew was that I wanted more.