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alexcutecolly · 3 months

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The Tenor

Greatly inspired by that anon asking about preds putting on a musical number before eating their prey, I wrote this short story!

Warnings: some cursing, fearplay, unwilling g/t vore, uncaring pred.

Mainly NSFW vore accounts DNI!!

Words: ~2.1k

°~°~°~°~°~°~°~°~°~°~°~°~°~°~°~°~°~°~°~°~°~°~°~°

Your head feels heavy as you start regaining consciousness, your vision all blurred and confusing before your eyes focus on your surroundings.

“Mhhh?”

W…where am I?

It looks like you’re in the backstage of a massive theater. No kidding, every single equipment around you is gigantic compared to your size. The curtains are still closed, and the dark engulfs everything. The only exception being a single, big reflector casting its beacon of light before you.

Looking down, you realize you’re all tied up to a chair of your own scale.

“Uh???” You can’t move an inch, and any attempt at budging is vain; plus you can feel the ropes almost digging into your sitting form.

W… what happened? I was waiting in a queue to buy a ticket for Mr. Biggs’ next performance-

“Is… anyone there?” you call out, your voice resounding in the seemingly empty room.

“Oh! There you are! It took you longer that I thought to wake up!” a booming voice breaks the eerie silence, coming from above but behind you.

“U-uh?”

This voice-

“The Titanic Tenor…? Mr. … Mr. Biggs? Is… Is that you?”

He chuckles, moving from his previous position to face you.

“That is me indeed~”

“Mr. Biggs, w-what’s going on? Is… is this a joke?” you ask him, doing your best not to make a puppy-eyed face as you look straight at him.

“Oh, not at all! You see… you’ve been randomly picked for an unique, extraordinary event involving the one and only me!” he exclaims, putting his arms out with theatrical emphasis.

You raise an eyebrow.

“Ooookaaaay…? Aaaaand… Why does it require me to be bound to a chair, in dim light, in the backstage?” you question him, wriggling a bit in place.

“Oh it’s rather simple.” He grins menacingly.

“I’ll give you 60 seconds to escape. If you don’t make it, I’m going to eat you. How’s that sound?”

“W-WHAT-“

“I won’t repeat myself. The ropes are tight. I’m just sure you’ll come up with something” he says, keeping the same excited grin.

“But- this is absurd!!”

“Oh yeah it is! Absurd, that I haven’t done this before!”

You gulp nervously.

“And in the meantime, allow me to perform a cavatina dedicated to your despair only. It should last for the perfect amount of time as well.”

“B-but wait! Why do you want to eat me? I’m just a random spectator from your usual audience! Also… Aren’t tenors supposed to play the heroes, the good guys in operas? Not that we’re in a play right now but-“

“First of all. Although you’re technically right, there are some interesting exceptions in 19th century plays where the tenor plays the bad guy, and the main male protagonist/hero is played by a baritone. Just check out Giuseppe Verdi’s ‘Rigoletto’, so you’ll know what I’m talking about” he responds, moving his hand in the air as to shoo your doubts away.

“And for the reason why I’m so eager to make a meal out of you… Why can’t I? Shouldn’t I enjoy a snack every once in a while?”

“You can’t be serious-“

“Ta-ta, less complaining and more working on those ropes, or the only symphony you’re going to be listening to in a minute will be my belly’s. C’mon, the play is starting!”

“Just wait-!”

“Oooooh~ oh my dear preeeeey~

You should’ve walked awayyyy~

From the moment you feeelt

Your impending dooooom~”

The giant tenor is ignoring you now, his back turned to you as he starts to sing his malicious song.

Great, just great. You sigh.

So you begin wriggling and struggling, with your hands doing their best to release your wrists first.

Shit, he wasn’t lying about the ropes being tight, you think with a grunt.

“… And whaaaaat

are you going to doooo

once you’re all settleeed

inside my guuuut~… ”

Ugh, shut up.

His eyes meet yours, when he turns around as he continues with his mocking cavatina. He licks his lips for just a moment, causing you to flinch and look away from him.

Clenching your teeth, you feel a small wind of relief when you finally manage to untie one of the knots. The ropes feel a little loosened now. You don’t stop, and keep insisting on the other knots. Thankfully, it seems there’s only one remaining.

“… 20 seconds… is all that’s leeeeft~

Before you’re plunged

Down into my chest~…”

You curse under your breath, your sore fingers now attempting to undo what remains of the thread binding you to the chair. It’s all been wrapped around you, which makes it even harder to make it come off.

Eventually, you pull the rope and it finally releases you from your sitting position, and that’s when you toss it away and run for your life.

But that’s when you realize…

Wait… I’m not on the ground! He placed me on a fucking table!! Or… Is it a… stage?

“Was… was there not an escape route the entire time?” you ask yourself, horrified at coming at your conclusion.

“Nonono, there has to be one-”

“Oh my dear prey~

Your time is uuup~

And now you will be

Miiiiiine~”

He lets out the last word with a nice, prolonged High C before approaching, rubbing his hands together at your sight.

“Wait, nonono, I refuse to be eaten!” you say, standing up to him with your fists clenched.

“Oh c’mon sweetheart, you’ve had your chance. Now, give up and accept it.”

“’My chance’ your ass, you’ve tricked me! You made me believe I could run away in safety, but… How was I supposed to get down from here?” With a stern look you point at the edge of the table, which is at least 3 feet in giant size.

The tenor sighs. “Gorgeous. The actors aren’t supposed to leave the stage until the curtains are pulled! Don’t you know that?”

“B-but… we’re not in a play right now.”

“Says who?” the opera singer asks rhetorically, grinning from ear to ear.

!!!!

“Y-you didn’t correct me before! When I said the same thing!”

“I didn’t, yeah. Aren’t you happy, though? You’ve been promoted from mere spectator to main acting role!”

“A-as if this is what I was waiting in line for! I’m- I’m done with your stupid game!”

“Oh yeah sure, feel free to complain to the big boss if you’d like, then! And that is…”

He does a little twirl, turning around before doing a theatrical pose with his arms stretched out wide.

“ME!”

“…”

You have nothing else to say. The situation is already crazy enough for your understanding. Plus it feels so demeaning, it’s like your mind is detaching itself from your body.

“Anyhow, I hope you’ll behave now. Because…”

He leans forward with the usual wicked smile plastered on his face. You instinctively take a step back in fear, looking up to the famished giant.

“You’re going to be the spotlight of my lunch.”

You shake your head. “N-no please! Have mercy!!”

“And I will! Plus it’s not like you’re going to die, you silly goose!” he says loudly, reaching out towards you with his large hand.

You almost dodge his fingers, but they manage to grab the back of your jacket at the very last second. And so you’re lifted up in the air, wriggling in the caging fist of your captor.

“Ha-have you taken into account the fact that maybe I just don’t want to be eaten by you?” you wheeze out as you attempt to free yourself from his grip.

“Oh, I have. I just decided not to care.”

He raises you above his head, his lips slowly parting to reveal the teeth and the inside of the maw.

You shake your head again, as to wake yourself up from this terrible dream. But when reality sinks in, all left for you to do is a desperate attempt at reaching for the fingers that are holding you up in the air.

Though Mr. Biggs doesn’t waste any more time, and he drops you right into the wide, very welcoming opening below.

Letting out a scream, you land right onto his spongy tongue. Covered in saliva already, you cough and immediately try to slip away towards the front, but the giant keeps you in place by pressing you even more into his taste buds with his index.

“MMMMMM!!~” the tenor hums loudly, rubbing your body up and down to get more and more of your peculiar flavor. And you must taste amazing, because more and more pools of saliva are accumulating fast all around you.

After a while though, he retracts the finger to close his mouth and seal you inside. As soon as the light goes out, the muscle underneath you pins you to the palate, unperturbed by your struggling; and as if it wasn’t enough, it brushes against you tirelessly to gather even more of your taste.

In the end, there’s nothing that doesn’t make you feel like you’re being sucked onto like a tiny piece of candy.

On the outside, the giant can barely contain his appetite. Oh, to have a feisty snack like you before any of his shows!

Once he’s grown tired of having you stuck to the roof of his mouth, he starts swirling you around, moving you from cheek to cheek. His continued humming makes the whole damp cave vibrate, which you’d find even soothing in a totally different situation. And it only gets worse when he picks up the snarky song he was singing before, his purring another way to taunt his poor victim.

Having fun with your part, morsel? I can keep going for as much as I like-

All of a sudden the alarm on Mr. Biggs’ watch goes off, reminding him of the incoming performance.

Humpf. Nevermind, I guess. Almost forgot about that, he huffs, quite annoyed to interrupt his vicious snacking.

Welp. Every story must come to an end, sooner or later, after all. What really matters is enjoying the ride, right~?

And that’s when he begins to tilt his head back.

In the inside of his maw everything shifts incredibly fast. Not that it has was all peaceful up until this moment, but if you were laying horizontally on his tongue just a few seconds ago, now you’re sliding straight towards a new dark chasm- his throat.

“N-no, wait!! D-don’t swallow!!” you shout, wiggling and doing the best way you can to hold onto something- anything-, that prevents you from falling into the bottomless pit in the back.

But with all the fleshy interiors coated in saliva, your hands hopelessness slip, slip and slip. So you what you actually manage to accomplish, is to just stare as you pass through the hellish gate and go down the hatch.

*GLK~*

The tenor gently presses his big hand to his neck as he feels you travel down, deeper and deeper inside of him until you disappear behind his collarbone.

“Mmmmm, I needed that~ some entertainment before the great show, you know?” he speaks, as if you could actually listen to him.

The descend towards his stomach is tight. So so tight. It’s giving you claustrophobia. The heat is unbearable, and you’re not even in the main chamber yet. His heart is hammering somewhere very close to you, undeterred to your despair. And when you’re finally released in the stomach, it feels like your troubles are over for the moment.

If Mr. Biggs is true to his word, you’re going to be safe. For a while, at least.

…

Hopefully.

“Aaaah~ That hit the spot~” Mr. Biggs sighs, feeling your small but filling presence inside his belly. He smirks at your puny wriggling, rubbing your spot with more glee than annoyance.

“Mmmmm, don’t be shy and struggle more if you’d like~” he says, poking his middle again in hope to get more active reactions from you.

“In the meantime, the rest of the audience is waiting for me for the real play! Make yourself at home, you’re definitely not coming out for the next few hours~” he says, chuckling to himself.

Before going back to his dressing room though, he gathers the tiny chair and the discarded thread from the stage-more like a table to him- ‘borrowed’ from the non-giant singers and musicians. Thankfully nobody has walked in during the events that have just transpired, or that’d have been pretty weird- if not embarrassing- to explain.

Oh well, you think, getting more comfortable as you crawl up to the nearest stomach wall to lay against it. Your eyes growing heavier from exhaustion and the excruciating warmth.

At least I’ve got front row seats to a free performance.