Sifr spends the next several hours coursing through the wolfess’ lower guts toward her eagerly awaiting stomach. The oppressive atmosphere of her rhythmically clenching bowels nonetheless gives him time to reflect on his fate; that he, a divine wolf, would soon be rendered nourishment for a mere mortal. He was supposed to use his blessing of fertility to reseed his dying race, but now it seems the only thing he’ll be fertilizing is the curvy worgen’s hips and bosom, and perhaps the ground of the Ashenvale forest as well. The real kicker? It was all due to his own arrogance. Yvonne could have been his, if only he had hunted more cautiously. But he underestimated her abilities, and how he’s as good as worgen pudge.
Occasionally the white wolf feels his captor drop to all fours and sprint a short distance, giving the impression that she must still be out hunting dinner for her lover. The other beautiful worgen, neither of whom he tasted, neither of whom he mated. He idly wonders what their love is like, and how far through Yvonne’s digestive process he’ll be by the time the two wolf women get physical with each other… For some reason, thinking of it strokes his arousal. ...No, that’s probably just the physical sensation of the fleshy tube ferrying him toward the worgen’s stomach. Why would he find it attractive to imagine two bipedal women mating?
…
By the time Yvonne finishes hunting and starts the journey back toward camp, her meal has been deposited fully into her gurgling stomach, the alpha wolf getting sloshed about in her acids with every step. Though he was well-behaved through her intestines, he really starts to squirm once he realizes he’s being digested, and so the worgen thanks her impeccable timing as she arrives with the still-live wolf wiggling in her soupy guts.
“Hey Liandra,” she calls across the way, tossing a pair of rabbits off to the side. “I got a job for you before your dinner.”
Liandra, the brown-furred druid worgen, glances back from her seat by the campfire, already completely nude, her plump jugs jostling slightly from her motion. She always admitted to preferring to feel the breeze on her fur, something which Yvonne had no complaints about.
“Yes, Yvonne? What is—o-oh!” the druid stuttered as she noticed the black worgen’s huge, sagging, faintly wiggling belly. “I-I see you’ve hunted well!”
“Mm-hmm.” Yvonne hauls her gut over and kneels before the flustered druid, her gut letting out a sluGOORrrsh as she plops it onto the ground. “Some white wolf thought he could sneak up on me, so I showed him in through the backdoor.”
“O-oh geez,” Liandra breathes, her cheeks quickly turning pink. “A whole wolf…”
“Uh-huh,” Yvonne replies with a smirk. “And now you’re gonna help me with my dinner, since I helped you with yours. Deal?”
“Y-yeah…” Liandra hardly needs convincing, her hands already reaching out to massage the squirming bulges in Yvonne’s black-furred belly. As a pawprint or a muzzle pushes up, she stuffs it back town with an accompanying glurp. Soon, the brown worgen scoots closer, her face bright red, and wraps her arms around her mate’s shoulders, compressing the wiggly black gut between the two of them and resulting in an ominous groan from within.
“Huurp… C-careful, love…” Yvonne cautions, wrinkling her nose a bit. “If you keep squeezing, you’re gonna—”
Heedless, Liandra pulls her mate even closer, smashing the poor wolf between the bodies of the two horny worgen. A bubble of air rumbles up Yvonne’s throat and erupts in an explosive BUUWEEEELCH, sending scraps of white fur fluttering through the air. After recovering from her belch, the black worgen smiles at the sight of Liandra with her eyes closed, ears flattened back, dreamily sniffing at the air to take in the scent of her lover’s steamy, wolf-churning gut.
“Hehe… you’re such a gutslut, Lia,” Yvonne teases, before being caught off guard by a sudden push from the brown worgen. “Whoop!” She topples backward, quickly finding herself pinned under the weight of her lover! Liandra spins around and plants her rump on Yvonne’s chest, then immediately starts kneading her belly with claws extended. The black-furred flesh is much tighter around her meal now with all the excess air expelled, the unfortunate wolf curled into a tight ball and whimpering as Liandra’s claws dig into him. She extends her tongue and drags it across the twitching bulges, even giving a light nip or a glomp now and then as the canine’s cries are gradually overtaken by the digestive cacophony of Yvonne’s gut.
The black worgen simply chuckles at her mate’s eager services, her vision filled with a view of Liandra’s naked, bubby butt. The druid is typically the more refined and restrained of the two, and it’s rare for something to trigger her feral persona, but seeing her mate with a belly full of wiggly prey tends to do it. With a lustful growl, Yvonne takes her lover by the hips and yanks her closer, burying her muzzle between those furred cheeks and extending her tongue to lap at Liandra’s dribbling nethers, drawing a loud yowl out of her. In response, the brown-furred worgen doubles her efforts on turning the contents of her mate’s belly into goo. The struggles and yelps of the white wolf fade away as his body is kneaded to a mushier consistency beneath her claws, amidst various glorps, sloshes and shlurks.
Liandra is drawn out of her trance as she notices a faint, bluish glow emanating from inside Yvonne’s belly. “Y-Yvonne!” she calls out, her voice slightly huskier than usual. “Your… your belly is glowing.”
“Yeah?” Yvonne replies, slightly muffled with her muzzle buried in the brown worgen’s rump. “I bet your cheeks are glowing, too.”
“N-no, seriously,” Liandra continues, giving the glow a curious poke. The mushy gut easily yields to the press of her finger, and the glow seems to expand to encompass more of the mush sloshing about the black worgen’s middle. “This might be serious. Do you think that wolf you ate was magical?”
“Magical? Uhh…” Yvonne extracts her head from between Liandra’s butt cheeks. “I mean, his fur was white, but he didn’t seem special besides that.”
The rogue’s gut lets out a long, low, messy groan, and Liandra watches with awe as the glowing, soupy mush visibly drains lower into Yvonne’s tract. Entranced, she quickly goes back to rubbing and kneading, helping the wolf soup on its way to her lower bowels.
“Aaahhhfuuuuhg…” Yvonne sighs out as she feels the warm mush flowing deeper. “Th-that’s… really good, Lia…”
The druid gropes and squishes the increasingly rounded and sloshing pot belly of her mate, watching as the blue glow, as well as the mass, is gradually transferred lower. The spherical glow gradually takes on a spiraling, snakeline shape as it occupies the worgen gal’s twisting guts. Liandra traces over it with a finger, causing Yvonne to shudder and moan. Soon, though, the glow begins to fade as quickly as it appeared, funneling away into nothingness deep in the worgen’s bowels.
Liandra gathers the clarity to ask, “...Yvonne? Are you feeling alright?”
“Never better, love. That wolfy is gonna go… r-right where he belongs, ahh…”
The black worgen has a dopey grin plastered on her face, which suddenly turns into a surprised look as a drawn-out gluuuooork rumbles out of her belly.
“Whoa.”
“What?” Liandra replies with worry in her voice.
“I-I feel something.”
“What is it?”
“It feels… good…”
