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You blush and raise your hand, about to knock on Professor Rava’s door. You hesitate: the motherly vixen has always been so kind to you. She immediately took you under her wing when you showed up in her classroom on your first day at Nomshire University, looking all lost and helpless: like a sad, frightened little human in the Middle Ages, missing their wolf-shepherd! And yet…
You swallow, feeling a familiar cold rush of guilt pooling in your stomach. You know your work in her Biology 101 intro class hasn’t been the best, recently. College is so much harder than high school… and in many other ways, Nom U really hasn’t been what you expected. Your high school classmates had all been humans, so you’d never really gotten used to living alongside anthros like this. They’re just so… unrestrained! No taboos about nudity, or fucking in the hallways, or eating fellow students.
You squeeze past a pair of cheerful upperclassmen, a human and a painted dog. This cross-species pair is fully unclothed, and laughing together with some inside joke. Down the hall, you see a chubby husky-girl, also naked except for her fur, with a pair of human legs sticking out from her mouth. You give a little squeak, as the husky’s eyes fix upon you. She cheerfully waves, and with her mouth full, she mumbles, “Hi there! Wanna be next? I still have lots of room!” As if her invitation wasn’t clear enough, the husky points toward her throat, even as a casual gulp seals away her human lunch.
Your heart hammers, but you can’t figure out whether that strange sensation is fear or eagerness. The thought makes you nervous… and nervously giddy, too. You search for somewhere to flee… and without even remembering to knock, you open the door to Professor Rava’s office, and slip inside.
The culture-shock has been the hardest part of adapting to college: even harder than the homework, you admit to yourself, and that’s been no walk in the park. Though walking across a park without getting eaten is quite a challenge as well! It’s left you feeling a bit lost, even as all your high-school friends eagerly embraced all the new and exciting (albeit brief and gurgly) pleasures of college.
Your best friend Daniel disappeared after spending a night in your vixen-neighbor’s dorm room – though the thin walls (and blocked dorm toilet the next morning) left zero doubt what happened to him. You last saw Jenny hanging out with a cheerful caracal after class – but you saw that same caracal looking all happy and cheerful in the library that night, with a full belly and a book over his eyes as he snored and slept off your childhood friend.
You’d started getting along with your roommate Maria, but she always insisted on bringing anthro lovers home to your shared room. You always made weak excuses to leave, whenever Maria brought someone back, even when that curvy wolf had invited you to join her and make a “lupine sandwich”: you’d much rather hang out on the couch, than hang out from that she-wolf’s rear a few hours later. And indeed, after several hours, multiple orgasms, and an ominous gurgling sound, the full-bellied she-wolf finally responded to your knocking and unlocked the door with a rather soggy key. The she-wolf gave you her phone number on the way out, as well as a sly wink. But after agonizing on that decision for a while, you didn't end up calling. You didn't want to end up as her second course.
Even Erica, your study partner in Professor Rava’s biology class, never returned from a “quick lunch meeting” with Dean Ursine… and of course, everyone knew what that meant. Dean Ursine’s appetite was legendary. And that was when your grades started falling, really. Without help from Erica, well…
All your friends had been so excited to finally get eaten, since vore was against the rules at your high school, but you didn’t really understand the hype. Or rather, you’ve only ever felt that exhilaration once. It still fills your dreams, the ones from which you wake up in a guilty, sticky mess of pleasure.
It was the first day you showed up in your dorms. The RAs (all anthros, of course) had put on a little demonstration about what to expect in a multi-species college, and they’d introduced a special guest: Professor Rava had come in, introduced herself, then asked for a volunteer. Jenna, your high school crush, had eagerly raised her hand. Professor Rava had thanked Jenna warmly, before ever-so-gently stripping your friend, explaining every step in a calm voice before opening her mouth, and slowly…
You blush. Even the recollection of what followed is enough to leave you blushing and panting for breath. The dark pink depths of the vixen’s throat… The way your friend happily squirmed in that foxy belly… The way Jenna slowly softened up as Professor Rava’s belly rounded out over an hour or so… And then, after a round of curious, excited questions, the vixen finally…
Well, she, uh…
Your blush deepens at the memory of how elegantly she squatted over a jar, to let Jenna back out… It’s the only time you ever wanted to get eaten, to end up as nothing but a quick bowel movement and a satisfied sigh. But even as you were about to raise your hand, and ask – beg, even! – to be the next one to take the journey down Professor Rava’s throat, the RAs changed the subject to the topic of quiet hours: “Remember, an orgasm while eating your fellow students is still not an excuse to wake up your classmates! They may have an important exam, or be sleeping someone off themself!”
…and the moment passed. Professor Rava gave her thanks for the wonderful meal, and slipped out the door. Your last glimpse of the vixen that night had been her tail and well-fed rear swaying behind her as she trotted home. And when you found yourself in Professor Rava’s class the next day, you barely even spent much time trying to catch a glimpse down the vixen’s throat. And when she turned around to write on the blackboard, tail swish-swaying behind her, you definitely didn’t blush every time you got a tiny little glimpse of the light-pink pucker hiding underneath. The same pucker you’d seen on display the last evening, pushing out Jenna, the same one which had shown up in your wet dreams that night, and many nights since…
You weren’t even feeling the smallest shred of vorish longing, you insisted to yourself at the time!
Your argument still doesn’t sound very convincing, even in your memories. Denial never does.
You blink a few times, pulling yourself back to reality. Her office is just how you remember it from your previous visits: small enough to be cozy, but large enough to accommodate the rather tall vixen who calls this place her home-away-from-home. There’s bookshelves, family photos on the walls, a rich cherry-wood desk, a private toilet just barely visible through a cracked-open door to one side…
But you can’t pay attention to any of that. Not when the inhabitant of the office pulls your attention toward her, as if your eyes are drawn to a candle-flame. The vixen is already half-risen to her paws as she hears your knock. “Ah, come in, please! How are you fitting in, dear?” Her voice sounds so warm… “Enjoying your first semester? Finding lots of friends, getting comfortable?”
You sigh. “Losing friends with every flush, more like.” Even as you speak, you blush: you hope Professor Rava doesn’t notice. You’re far too shy to tell her about the most, uh, memorable moment of your whole semester, so far… “And it’s strange seeing everyone, um… totally naked! The no-shame culture is, um, nice, but… It’s still weird to see sex in the hallways, or humans getting eaten all over the place…” You put a hand on the back of your neck, looking shy. “It’s been a few months, but I’m still not really used to seeing so few clothes!”
You blink. Come to think of it, Professor Rava has always shown up to her classes in dapper and – by anthro standards – rather conservative suits and pants.
(Or, as a rabbit-girl you met recently might have called it, ‘rather conservatitty’.)
“Wait, um…” You pause, confused. “Why do you wear clothes anyway, ma’am? I mean, I’ve heard anthros say that it’s uncomfortable against your fur. A-and it seems inconvenient, especially since you have to unbutton them whenever you, uh…” You blush, suddenly. Your voice is a bit strangled as you finish. “Um, whenever you e-eat one of your students…?”
“Oh, this little outfit?” The vixen laughs, gesturing to her suit. “Sure, clothes might be a little uncomfortable, but it’s worth the effort to keep the human members of our community comfortable!” she explains gently. “Even though I have to get it re-tailored every week! My waistline just keeps growing. So many volunteers, showing up here around lunchtime…”
Instinctively, both of your eyes flick up to the clock. Both hands are pointed straight upward.
Unlike on a human clock, on anthro clocks the 12 is simply labeled “Lunch.”
Your eyes both flick back down at the same moment, and meet purely by coincidence. A little electric shock runs down your spine, from the… implication. Neither of you say anything, but you see her tail fluff out ever-so-slightly, as a hungry shiver runs down the vixen’s spine, from her ears to her tail-tip.
“Besides, it really is nice to have pockets for once!” the fox says brightly, after a silent, tense moment. You breathe out, the moment (once again) broken just before you said something… unwise.
“Wait, where do you keep your phone and things, when you don’t wear clothes?” you ask.
The vixen leans in conspiratorially, giving you a secretive wink. “Mmm, a lady never tells…~”
You nod, still a little jittery. The space between your thighs feels rather warm. You do your best to be subtle, as you cross your legs. You hope your professor didn’t notice. “B-but, um… To a-answer your question, I haven’t really made many friends, so far. It’s been hard: I haven’t found where I belong yet. I just want to find somewhere I can relax and get comfortable.” She gives you an encouraging nod, and you continue, a little shyly. “And I-I miss my high school. It was so much more quiet and calm!” You sigh. “And, um, I guess back then I knew exactly where I fit in? Here, it seems like all the human students keep disappearing before I can make friends. And anthro students keep giving advice on how to ‘fit into’ their stomach!”
Your professor nods, and reaches out to gently pat your hand with one paw. You blush and freeze up a little, at her casually tender gesture. “I know, college is a big change from high school. It must be confusing to end up adrift in a strange place like this. Where people walk around naked, and eat each other freely…” The vixen smiles with a shrug. “Wearing clothes is the least I can do: to offer you a little show of respect, and help smooth your transition…”
Her eyes are fixed on you. There’s several ways to interpret that, but… “My transition? L-like, me specifically?” She nods, and you blush. “You wear clothes so that I’m more comfortable?”
Professor Rava smiles. “Oh, I’d do that for any of my students. But I wouldn’t be much of a mentor if I didn’t care about your comfort and happiness!” You share a shy smile with your professor, feeling a warmth spread through your chest (and lower) at the way the vixen’s cute little fangs stick out from her lips. But as that small, tender moment passes, the fox’s face turns a bit more serious. “But I did call you to my office for a more specific reason. I’ve been looking over your recent assignments… And I know you’re doing your best, but I must be honest: I’m not sure your work’s current quality is high enough to stay in this academic program.”
You wilt a little. “Y-you’re saying you don’t think I’m good enough to keep up at Nom U?”
The vixen holds her paws up. “Oh! No-no-no, I’m sorry. I just mean… I know that your first term has been very hard. But with your current grades, you’ll have to buckle down, put in extra-long hours, and really hit the books if you want to pass my class this semester.”
Your face falls. You look down, ashamed. You knew things were bad, but… you hoped your favorite professor hadn’t realized they were that bad. You just barely survived high school by always finishing things at the very last minute, but… you’ve never been good at that whole ‘hard work’ thing.
The vixen notices your expression. She reaches out over her desk, putting one paw on your shoulder and the other under your chin, to tilt your gaze up. “For the record, I really believe you can do it, if you decide you want to. I believe in all my students… and more importantly, I really do believe in you. But I wanted to call you here to my office today and ask…”
The vixen pauses, thinking over her next words very carefully. Instinctively, you lean forward in your seat. “Are you sure that a diploma from Nom U is what you actually want?” she finally asks.
You blink. You don’t quite understand. “I’m sorry? Are you telling me to just… drop out??”
“Well, less than ten percent of humans actually finish all their classes at Nom U.” the vixen patiently explains. “Some drop out for academic reasons, of course, but most simply decide they’d like to leave the university through the plumbing rather than the front door! I just wanted to ask… What do you want to do after college? There’s no shame in deciding to get eaten now, if you want your university experience to end with a flush anyway…”
You blink again. You’ve never really… considered it, you suppose. As a human in an anthro-dominated world, you’ve simply resigned yourself to doing whatever they said, in the end. “I… I guess I never really thought about what I’d do after? I sorta drifted into this program, it felt like the next natural step after high school! But now that I’m here, it’s so much work, and…” You trail off, sounding a bit helpless. “Well, there’s two types of humans at Nom U: the ones who came here to study, and the ones who came here to get eaten.” You sigh: if you had a fluffy fox-tail like hers, it would be drooping. “A-and I just don’t feel like I fit in with either group…”
“Do you not want to get eaten?” Professor Rava asks somewhat curiously, cocking her head. The vixen doesn’t sound offended or hurt. Merely… confused, as if the concept simply makes no sense.
“No! Um, I mean… I don’t mind the thought of getting eaten, I just… I just haven’t found the right fit yet!” you stammer, rather shyly. “All the anthros here are so casual. I just wish I could find a predator here who’s as kind and caring as, well…” You blush. “As you are…~”
You trail off. Your cheeks are bright red, now. You hadn’t quite meant to let that last bit slip out.
Your vulpine professor pauses to take a deep sniff, savoring your scent like a fine wine. “Well, in that case…” Professor Rava taps her chin thoughtfully. “Would you like me to eat you?”
You nearly choke. “What?” you manage to splutter out.
The vixen shrugs, giving you a chuckle. For a brief moment, she seems almost bashful herself. “Well, I’ve seen – and smelled! – how you watch me in class! You seem shy about the subject, but a human getting eaten is the most natural thing in the world. I thought just asking might help break the ice. And you’d still be attending college every day, but you won’t have to work hard. It’s the easiest job in the world, just hanging out here on my hips.”
“What happens if I say no?” you say, sounding almost defiant. You need to know if she actually… cares. “Are you trying to claim dibs on me for yourself, so nobody else will grab me in the mean-time? Will you just… end up eating me anyway, when my grades fall far enough?”
Your professor’s very warm, welcoming expression quickly turns horrified. “Oh, goddess, no! Dean Ursine and I will work with you to sculpt a personal academic study plan, and see if that improves things. And even if it doesn’t, we’d never force you into getting eaten. All vore at Nom U is strictly voluntary! But for many students who’ve struggled like you, my hips are a better fit than the classroom, that’s all. I just wanted you to know that you have the option available, any time you’d like it…” The fox opens her mouth, to make it clear what she’s offering. “Just a slow, soft journey downward, then you’ll never need to worry about anything ever again…” The vixen smiles gently, it’s enough to make your heart flutter. “No more homework, no more grades. Just a warm, happy haze, as you become part of me…”
Her simple, gentle, unexpected sincerity strikes deeper than the half-drunk passes from your anthro classmates ever could. “Is that… what you want?” you finally ask your professor, still blushing.
Her eyebrows rise. “Oh! Aren’t you a sweetheart… My students never ask that question!” She takes a second to think -- you deserve an honest answer. “Well, of course I’m a bit peckish right now! I haven’t dropped by the cafeteria for lunch yet. And if you’re offering, I’d be honored to offer my belly to such a smart and thoughtful student!” She smiles down at you. “But it’s really no trouble either way. I love helping my students however I can. Whether that’s offering tutoring or a warm belly, I’m here for whatever you need. Okay, hun?”
You blush and nod, and start to muddle out an answer, wrestling with your confused feelings, but the vixen gently holds up a paw to halt your stumbling words. “Even if you do want to get eaten, take some time and think about it, okay?” the fox tells you gently, even as her stomach audibly rumbles. She ignores it. “Picking a belly to graduate through is a huge decision, and many students think on it for years. Others know their answer on the first night in the dorm… There’s no one ‘correct’ way to choose a pred! But since you only get to be digested once, I hope you’ll make it count…” The vixen smiles. “My offer will still stand tomorrow, or four years from now. There’s no rush. But my door -- and my belly! -- are always open…~”
The rest of your conversation is a blur, but… a comfortable one, somehow. As if the air is clearer now, less tension between you and your foxy professor. Now that you’re looking for it, you can see how careful the vixen is, to not pressure your decision at all. Oddly, that makes the idea of being your professor’s meal seem more natural, more safe and warm and happy. It’s so cozy, just you and the vixen in her office. As you stand to leave, Professor Rava pauses you for a brief moment, her paw on your shoulder. Her touch feels electric. “And one last thing, okay? You can call me Mira…”
You blush. “O-okay, Professor Ra… I mean, Mira! I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?” You pause. “Um, in class, I mean! But I-I’d love to meet with you one-on-one again, too, maybe…”
You hurry home, to your empty dorm room, and try to focus on your homework. Hey, at least you’ve got a single dorm now! That’s one benefit to your roommate getting eaten, but it doesn’t quite make up for having to unclog the suite’s toilet the next day. But you can’t even think straight. All you can envision is Mira’s face, the emptiness of her belly as it rumbled for you, the way she looked months ago, with her tail lifted above the brown coil that was all that’s left of your highschool crush, and…
With a sigh, you toss down your pen, abandoning your Biology homework to undress and get in bed. Maybe touching yourself will help blow off some steam, so you can get your academic focus back. Or let you get Professor Rava’s offer out of your head. Surely an orgasm or two will help, right? …Right?
…No. It doesn’t help. You can’t focus. Even after you’ve come so many times that your whole body is buzzing with lovely, aching bliss, you still can’t think of anything but her. The moment one orgasm ends, you’re already busy chasing the next.
It isn’t until the sun comes up that you finally admit defeat. You can’t quite believe it. All night. You spent the whole night, just thinking about her. That’s when the realization fully sinks in.
You pull yourself out of bed and pull on some clothes, not bothering to do much else with yourself. On autopilot you shower – it feels only polite – but you don’t bother eating a breakfast of your own. What would be the point, beyond irony? You walk out through the empty halls. All your schoolmates are behind the closed doors: sleeping, or being digested, or sleeping off someone being digested. In fact you can hear a few of the louder gurgles leaking out into the hall. They only spur you on.
You work your way through the familiar twists and turns of the university, but almost completely on automatic. Not only are you too tired to pay much attention, but the only twists and turns you can manage to actively think about are the ones you’ve been imagining all night, tucked beneath layers and layers of thick fox-pudge and even thicker orange-red fur.
Finally, you arrive at the door: Professor Rava’s office, of course. You try for the handle, used to her normal open-door policy, but you find it’s locked. You grimace. Of course it is, everyone’s still asleep. So with nothing else to do, you take one of the empty seats outside the door, and you continue to do what you’ve been doing -- what you haven’t been able to stop doing -- for the last several hours: thinking back to every detail of your last meeting with the professor, and imagining your next.
Your feeling of time slips, as the morning sun slowly drifts across the walls. You feel giddy, a little nervous, and surprisingly excited. Gradually, you hear the first few stirrings of the day, distant at first. A bit later, the first staff member walks by, the first of several. Most of them greet you, a few asking if you need anything, and all you tell them is that you’re waiting for your professor.
They don’t ask, but from the look in your eyes, it’s pretty clear what exactly you’re waiting for.
And then you see her. With all the daydreaming you’ve been doing, you nearly ‘embarrass’ yourself just at her appearance. Your eyes are immediately drawn to her belly, a response you’re not quite used to, but you can’t ignore the rush when you see the freshly ironed shirt resting over her clearly flat and empty gut, its ever-so-quiet rumbles calling out to you, as irresistible as a siren’s call.
Professor Rava has her key-card out, just about to unlock her office, as she notices you sitting there.
“Oh! Hello, didn’t expect to see you here so early!” She seems bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, quite perky after a morning coffee on an empty stomach. It’s something of a contrast to your tense, sleep-deprived face. That’s something she seems to notice, after a moment; you can see a slight shift in her expression. Maybe a hint of concern?
You expect her to ask ‘what’s wrong?’, ‘do you need something?’, ‘can I help you?’, but instead, after a moment she asks, “Would you like to come inside? It seems so cold and lonely out here.”
YES!! comes the instant, intense response of your thoughts.
But even as sleep-deprived as you currently are, you have enough sense to realize she probably means inside her office. Probably.
“Yes, please…” you reply politely, tone as neutral as you can manage. “I’d like that very much.”
She taps her key-card against the lock and then reaches out to open her unlocked office, inviting you inside with a wave. You smile at her as you stand -- you can’t stop smiling – and you walk inside with her following close behind. There’s a gentle click as the door closes behind you.
“Come take a seat!” She points next to her this time, you notice. “What’s on your mind, dear? Has something been eating at you? You look like you haven’t slept a wink all night…”
“I haven’t…” you answer, quite a bit more honestly than you meant to. But words just keep slipping out from your sleepless mind. “I-I tried to curl up in my warm, soft blankets, but I couldn’t get comfortable, when my mind was fixed on a warmer and softer place altogether…”
Every word feels like you’re in a dream. But it’s a good dream, a warm and happy and safe one. The kind where you’d be happy to spend the rest of your life… as short as that time might be, with the words that you find yourself saying.
“You mean…”
You nod.
“You really want this? You’re sure?” Your positions have been reversed from your last meeting: now Mira’s the one trying to hide and push down her feelings, even if her ears and rapidly-swishing tail give them all away. But her voice is still just as soft and gentle and warm, careful not to press, and somehow that fact makes you even more sure of your feelings, and your very final decision.
“I-I haven’t been able to sleep, ever since we talked… I’ve spent every minute thinking about you! And about your offer, and about what I want. A-and I decided that, um… I-I want this? I’d never really thought before about why I wanted to be at college, but now I know the answer…” You swallow, the blush spreading across your face. “I-if I hadn’t come to college, I wouldn’t have met you. You’ve been so kind and caring, taking care of me even when I was lost. And, um, Profes– I mean, um, Mira… I want to be your meal. Please.”
A warm smile spreads across Mira’s muzzle. On another anthro, they might be smiling about the nice breakfast they’d just been offered. But on Mira, it’s as clear as day that she’s smiling for you. For the way that your shoulders aren’t tense, that your face is bashful yet happy. “I know college has been hard for you, dear.” she says, after a moment. “I’m so glad you’ve finally found a place you feel you fit in. And I’m honored that of all the bellies on campus, you chose mine…”
“It wasn’t a hard choice…” you admit shyly, blushing the whole time. “Honestly, you’ve been on my mind for months, ever since that demonstration at the beginning of the year…”
Mira’s smile grows: any professor would be happy to hear that she inspires her students! “Well, let’s get you tucked away then, huh? My belly will be a very nice place for you to catch up on all that sleep you missed…” the vixen suggests, rather happily. With no further ado, Mira sets her paws to her shirt and the buttons holding it closed, picking them open with her claws, one by one…
You find yourself staring, absolutely riveted. Your excitement (and other things) keep rising with each new inch of fiery fur that comes into view. Not only is your vulpine professor absolutely beautiful, but even more captivating is the realization that soon, you’ll be becoming a part of that beauty. As close to the vixen’s heart as the curves on her chest…
Mira is halfway down her shirt, when she finally notices your awestruck attention. She smiles at you sweetly, causing you a fair bit of shy embarrassment. That’s not a problem Mira seems to have -- but of course not, she’s done this countless times before. Your blush only grows stronger as she speaks.
“Would you like to help me with my pants?” It was clearly meant as an invitation rather than an order, but from the moment she said it, you couldn’t imagine declining. It wasn’t even until you were already walking forward that you realized this was Mira’s way of gently easing you closer to her.
You approach, eager but nervous, and set your fingers to the single button holding her waistband together. You hesitate for just a moment. You knew you’d be seeing more of your professor than you ever had before, but you’d thought all those new vistas would be inside her. You hadn’t really realized that you might be seeing her up-close in her underwear. But you're drawn forward by an irresistible urge: not simply arousal, but a deep desire to see more of the body you are about to fuel, about to become. You undo the button and brace yourself as best you can for the sight of the vixen’s panties.
As it happens, that’s not what you should have been worrying about. Mira is not wearing any. You tense visibly as your eyes focus on the fur -- the bare, damp fur -- lining her crotch and inner thighs.
“You should know,” the vixen says, a bit softly, “I’ve thought about you a number of times since our meeting yesterday, too.” Mira leans closer, until her hot breath is tickling against your ear. “And I suspect I’ll be… ‘thinking of you’ several times more, before we’re done with our time together. You and I will be sharing several toilet breaks, between periods~”
You take a sudden, deep, shaky breath, and feel a spike in the warmth between your own legs. For a moment, you’re quite overwhelmed, heart pounding as you stare straight forward, straight between your professor’s legs. Is this how all your friends felt, right before they were eaten, you wonder?
Or is Professor Rava – Mira, you mentally correct with a blush – simply that special?
“You don’t need to worry about anything down there…” Mira says softly, sensing how utterly overcome you are by this new view. She takes a hold of your hand and gently guides it forward, to stroke against her belly. “You’re going in here.” You blush as your hand makes contact with a sea of warm, lush fur. You look up to see your palm resting tenderly on the vixen’s flat, exposed belly.
You feel it rumble against your fingers. Your eyes widen. Enamored, you ever-so-slowly slide your hand up through her thick, inviting fluff: you feel the way it softly parts before your fingers, as your fingertips delicately brush through the thinner undercoat, to stroke against soft skin beneath.
Mira arches her back just a tiny bit at the sensation. A little dribble of fox-cream drips from between her legs, saturating the already-soaked fur on display in front of your eyes. Dimly, you recall an off-paw comment Professor Mira gave during a lecture: “For anthros, it’s very intimate to feel someone run fingers through our fur! Our skin is as sensitive as a human’s, but it’s usually hidden underneath. We only get proper skin-to-skin contact with our lovers… or our meals.”
And past that velvet-soft underfur, you gently press your hand against that warm, yielding fox-pudge. Some deep part of your hindbrain illogically wishes that you could somehow just… sink into her, right here and now. A low rumble of pleasure emerges from the vixen’s throat, as she feels the pressure of your hand on her empty gut… and a moment later an even deeper rumble comes from inside. Mira takes a nice, slow, deep breath, causing her belly to swell beneath your touch, then smiles gently.
“So…” You look up to meet those kind, caring eyes. With every word, you get a glimpse of Mira’s warm and welcoming maw. “Are you ready to graduate?” You nod: your lips move, but no words come out. You’re simply too wonderfully overwhelmed. Luckily, a nod is all that your professor needs.
She smiles at you one more time… but this time her smile parts, her jaws widening, and then they lean closer. You look up in awe, past those ivory-white teeth and silky pink tongue, toward the deep velvet-black softness of her throat, opening up like a flower before your eyes, and…
*squelch*
The vixen leans forward, and that dark void expands in front of your vision until it’s all you can see. You feel the wet warmth of the vixen’s tongue against your cheek, but you barely notice: you fill your lungs with Mira’s warm, exhaled breath, carrying the faint, acrid scent of her belly as it wafts up from deep within. It’s all you’ll be breathing, from now on, so you might as well get used to it! You see her throat stretch and shift as she exhales, then breathes in once more, tasting every unique little note of your scent in the air, like a connoisseur savoring a fine wine. And at the same moment, Mira’s tongue traces across your neck: a first taste of many, and perhaps an encouraging little gesture.
And then comes the first swallow.
*gulp*
Everything suddenly shifts as Mira leans her head forward, too quickly for you to process. All you know is that one moment you were a student talking to your professor, the next your world was a shifting oral tapestry of red and pink, and now all your eyes can see is deep, velvety black.
Except that fundamentally misses the point, because only focusing on what you can see is a very small part of the picture. Suddenly, you can feel Professor Rava -- feel Mira -- all around you. The warmth of her body quite literally soaks into you, as her throat opens wide to welcome you inside. The vixen quickly swallows again, more eagerly this time, and you feel your shoulders slip into her gullet, which clenches hungrily all around you, impatient to pull you deeper.
But Mira resists the instincts telling her to just bolt you down in a single gulp. You’re her student, you deserve better than that. Still, she traces a single claw down the growing bulge in her throat, even as her other paw begins to subconsciously creep down between her legs…
Suddenly there’s so much happening all around you, entirely out of your control. You just spent hours sitting in utter silence on a chair outside Mira’s office, waiting for this exact moment… and now you’re about to fill her stomach, venturing down into the ever-shifting landscape of her digestive system.
You thought you’d be scared, when you envisioned this moment. After all, this is the end for you. At the bottom of this throat lies Mira’s stomach, which will churn you away into fox-shit and fox-fat. And yet, even knowing this is the end of your life…
It all just feels so… right.
On instinct, you try to push your body even deeper as Mira swallows again… not that you really have much agency at this point. But knowing you’ll soon be a part of the very muscles surrounding you, welcoming you into the kindly vixen’s body… It almost feels like you and Mira are already connected.
*GULP!*
Another swallow and your head pokes through, finally, into Mira’s hungry belly. It greets you with a welcoming rumble and a squelch. You’re sure that every hair on your body would be standing on end, if they weren’t already pressed down against your skin by Mira’s frequent (and rather eager) licks.
And that’s when it all clicks. All those years growing and learning, studying hard, passing all your classes. All your choices led you here. To this moment. To this belly. So you could feed this amazing vixen, and she can go on helping other students learn, and grow, and find their own bellies to fill.
You finally understand the purpose of humans, your purpose, in the great circle of life: to sustain this lovely vixen’s body, even for a single day. The mere thought fills you with a warm rush of pride.
Or maybe that warm rush is Mira’s drool? But you feel so warm and happy (and soggy), regardless.
*GULP!*
Mira is swallowing faster now, surrendering to her predatory instincts. Her body wants breakfast, it wants you inside now. The vixen almost growls in frustration as your hips get caught in her throat for an instant, the sound vibrating around you from all sides, before they finally crest past the back of her tongue, and down-down-down to join the rest of you curling up in her stomach.
You feel your legs tilting upward even as your body slips into the tender cradle of her stomach: nearly all of you is inside her now, welcomed into the vixen’s slick throat. You feel a faint sense of motion around your feet, and a momentary pause in your journey, before you feel Mira’s paw tug your shoes off. They slip away to clatter on the floor of the vixen’s office (so far away, now). A moment from one of your classes -- a class taught by Mira herself, in fact -- flashes to mind:
“Human clothes are manufactured to be largely digestible and anthro-safe…” Mira had said, pointing to a cartoon human on her blackboard, labeled with nutritional values. “…with the notable exception of shoes. Remember: rubber is not part of a fox’s healthy breakfast!”
You chuckle to yourself -- in the end, all those lessons on anthro biology ended up being your most important class after all! You wish you’d studied more when you had the time, but now you’ll get a quite hands-on lesson on the subject matter. Still, you were a diligent student, even if your grades didn’t reflect that fact: you wouldn’t be nearly this excited if you didn’t know exactly what will happen, once this hungry vixen finally finishes tucking you away… Speaking of which, Mira doesn’t seem to be wasting any more time. The vixen is done savoring you, she’s hungry now!
*SLURP… GULP!*
With your shoes gone, Mira eagerly tucks your legs and feet into her maw. Her belly is bulging out now with your curled-up body: a satisfying weight that pushes all the right buttons for the vixen’s predatory hindbrain. She murrs happily, with her mouth still full, and slips a paw down to caress her growing gut. The skin down there is stretched taut now, the vixen’s crimson fur thinned and almost translucent: all to accommodate you and the special meal you’re providing.
On the inside, you squirm against those warm, wet walls – you recall from Professor Mira’s class that anthros enjoy when humans do that! You’re rewarded by a little rumble, from Mira’s throat rather than her guts: a little elated moan at the blissful movements of her breakfast. She runs her tongue across your toes, licking appreciatively: you grin wide, trying not to laugh at the ticklish sensation.
All that stress you’d been feeling a minute ago? All your worries and doubts? They seem so far away now, left somewhere beyond the comforting walls of your predator -- somewhere out there with your shoes. As you feel Mira’s tongue lovingly stroke over you, a peaceful smile spreads across your face.
You feel the tip of Mira’s claw leisurely press up against the soles of your feet -- from the outside, the vixen must look like the absolute epitome of luxury. Like some Roman anthro lazily eating grapes.
Though to be fair, who could blame her? How many professors get to start their day with a fresh breakfast, much less one that delivers itself to her front door?
*GULP*
As the last inch of you passes over the back of her tongue, you feel all the tension leave your body. Mira’s gullet takes control, and you simply let it claim you, as you curl up gently into a comfortable little ball in her now-rounded belly. Mira gives a deep, contented *sigh*, and places a paw against you. You wiggle a bit: partly from excitement, and partly because you know she’ll enjoy it. Her body squeezes back against you appreciatively, the slick walls pressing closer in a warm full-body embrace.
“Ahh~ And there… we… go!” the vixen murmurs, her voice a little hazy from predatory pleasure. “Tucked away, all nice and cozy…” Mira smiles, shifting her hips slightly to feel how wonderfully full she is. “And that handles breakfast!” She reaches down to caress her swollen belly. “Just relax, hun. I’ll handle your academic transition from here. Just a few forms to officially change your major from ‘Anthro Biology’ to, well… ‘Anthro Biology with a Specialty in Fox Pudge’~” (Your professor giggles despite herself.) “Seriously, though. Thank you for being such a wonderful breakfast, dear. All you need to do now is rest, relax, and digest…”
Mira happily slumps back into her chair -- she tenderly smiles as she feels your happy motions inside. Then, after giving a furtive little look around her office, and ensuring nobody is watching, the vixen greedily licks her claw-tips clean like an absolute hedonistic animal, savoring every last little scrap of your flavor, now that the source is gone for good. You’re aaaaall hers, now, Mira thinks a little smugly.
And that brings the vixen’s attention back to her big, round belly. She smiles, pressing her paws deeper in this time, to ensure you can feel her touch. “Is it everything you wanted, dear?”
Curled up snug inside your professor, you smile and do your best to press back against her touch. Now that you’ve taken the plunge, you think back to the conversations you had with her, how she ever-so-gently pushed you towards an early graduation (or towards her belly, that is). All along, Mira knew this would be the best thing for you. Your whole body feels warm and tingly all over – or maybe that’s the first few tingles of digestion. Either way… “I-I’m so happy to be your meal, Mira.” You and the vixen are as intimately connected as a human and an anthro can ever be, now, and there’s no secrets between you. And yet, you still blush a little shyly. “Y-you’re the best professor ever.”
Mira has to cock her ears downward to hear your words over the first gurgles of her belly, but in her opinion it’s worth every bit of effort. The vixen smiles: now she has three nice, warm feelings inside: in her cunt, her belly, and her heart!~ Few things bring a professor more pleasure than helping her students graduate and find their own special place in the world… especially when that place turns out to be filling her belly. “I’m so proud of you, too…” Mira murmurs softly.
There’s a long, comfortable moment of silence, before you ask tentatively, “W-was I, uh… good?”
Mira smiles, still stroking her domed stomach. Ah, it’s so wonderful feeling full like this. “You were a good student, but you’re an even better breakfast…” She laughs as she feels another round of happy squirms from within, and waits for you to settle down before speaking. From all that motion, a little belch works its way up her throat, as she delicately puts a paw in front of her maw: UUUURP!!
The vixen blushes, an even redder shade spreading beneath her orange-red fur. “Oh, excuse me! I suppose I can’t keep a secret from you, huh?” Mira leans in closer to whisper. “I’m not very ladylike when I’m alone with my breakfast… I hope you’re not disappointed, dear?~”
Your response is drowned out by a wet guuuurgle, but Mira smiles. She got the gist of your words anyway. “Aww, I’m so glad you’re happy where you ended up… Now just curl up and get comfortable, okay? Sleep a little if you’d like. My belly will handle the rest, don’t worry.”
You nod. You are feeling sleepy, and it seems so safe here… And with Mira’s permission, you let your eyelids relax… although in the darkness of her stomach, you aren’t sure if they were open in the first place. You snuggle up against the walls as they begin to lightly knead you in return. Your attention is focused on the countless little gurgles and sloshes and squelches, only the loudest of which will ever make it beyond the ears of her ‘private audience’. And for the first time since you walked out of Mira’s office yesterday, you let yourself fully relax: you’re exactly where you belong.
But despite Mira’s invitation, you can’t quite fall asleep. The vixen’s stomach is the most comfortable place you’ve ever had the privilege of resting – you’d certainly hope so, since it’s also the last place you’ll have that privilege! But even after missing a full night’s sleep, every time the gentle, rhythmic motions lull you toward slumber, a particularly loud glorp from deeper inside her guts pulls you back.
It doesn’t really bother you, though. So what if you’ve missed a night’s sleep? After the next few hours, you’ll be resting forever on your professor’s hips.
Now that she’s taken care of breakfast, Mira plops herself down in her desk-chair and tries to get some paperwork done. After all, she needs to submit some forms to Dean Ursine, marking your early graduation! Every so often, Mira gently strokes her belly, murmuring some kind of encouragement, or making a little joke, or recalling some fond memory of your time spent together. It’s… comfortable, just taking a few last moments to enjoy your newfound closeness – both literal and emotional.
But only a few minutes later, the vixen finds herself simply too horny to continue. Much like you were last night, she’s too wound-tight to do much deep thinking, and eventually Mira lets out a remarkably peeved-sounding sigh and gives in to her instincts. After all, an orgasm will surely help her focus.
Right?
The first thing you notice is the innocent-seeming shift as your predator slumps back in her chair. You feel her legs casually spread to either side – the stomach ‘floor’ beneath you sags a little bit, now that it’s not supported by her thighs, but her taut belly holds you safely suspended in place. Then you feel her paw press up against the side of your bulge, inching down to the newly exposed space below…
Still, it takes a minute for your tired, freshly-consumed mind to put together what’s happening.
What finally clues you in is the clench of her stomach around you, a bit sharper than it’s been so far, as you faintly feel the little shutter run through the entirety of the vixen’s body. And with it comes a sound that you’ve grown much more familiar with since your enrollment… A wet, muffled:
*shlick*
You blush bright red. You immediately know exactly what’s going on. You’ve seen countless anthros ‘enjoying’ themselves after a meal -- several memories of which immediately jump to mind -- but the lovely thought of Mira doing it, with you inside her… Well, let’s just say it’s quite the compliment. And you find your attention very quickly being drawn down between your legs, too. Especially as the lewd sounds of a horny fox repeat, along with the shuddering contractions of the vixen’s stomach.
You can feel every detail – after all, you and Mira are practically the same person now, or about to be. The vixen starts out slow and gentle, and her body responds in kind, with those steady, rhythmic clenches massaging you in her stomach. Far above, you hear the rush of air as Mira’s breathing gets faster, her chest rising and falling. You can hear the sheer anticipation suffusing every breath that the vixen takes, even before the first little whine escapes from Mira’s throat.
That first desperate, half-voiced whine is what pushes you over the edge. Embarrassed or not, you can’t resist any longer. Your hand slips down along her stomach walls, inching closer and closer to the space between your own legs. After all, it’s only natural to follow your teacher’s example. Right?
From there, everything is a blur. The contractions of Mira’s stomach come faster and harder, now: with each shlick of her fingers, her belly squeezes you tight, pressing the air out of your lungs to ripple up her throat as tiny human-flavored belches. Mira makes no apologies this time, she’s far too lost in pleasure to care about mere manners. Besides, what’s a little gas between a fox and her food?
But rather than being uncomfortable, each clench from those squishy, slick, wonderful walls sends you further into your own pleasure than you’ve ever reached before. You naturally fall into sync with your predator’s rhythm… but while Mira is gradually teasing herself and building up toward orgasm, you’re much more desperately pent up. You’ve been dreaming of this moment, this stomach, this fox for months, now! And knowing this plunge is your final chance, well, it pushes you past the edge!
Your entire body shakes, shuddering so wildly that even Mira can feel it over her own pleasure. And as you reach the very peak of your greatest -- and very likely last -- pleasure, you notice the vixen picking up speed. Perhaps she noticed you joining in, and your climax is spurring her to her own…
You feel her heart beating even faster, her stomach clenching all around you over and over and over, to say nothing of the muscles you can feel clenching beneath you between her legs. Little yips and yelps of pleasure escape from her muzzle, as she’s JUST about to reach the edge of climax…
…and the bell rings, calling the professor to go manage her first class of the day! Mira winces: she completely lost track of time: she was supposed to be setting up for class twenty minutes ago…
“That’s just typical…” the vixen sighs irritably. “Well, at least one of us got to finish, hm?”
Rather resentfully, Mira slips her paw out from between her legs and (still grumbling the whole time) stands up on shaky paws, sloshing you around as she moves. All that pleasure and excitement seems to have stimulated Mira’s stomach quite a bit, judging by the rising level of fluids: you’re tingling in a full-body bath of vulpine digestive enzymes, now. With a rush of morbid curiosity, you wonder if you’ll last through her first class period. You rather doubt it, which sends an excited thrill up your spine.
Mira valiantly tries to re-button her jacket, which squishes you tighter, but after the first popped-off button she gives up and lets everything hang free, showing off her big, sloshing belly to the world. Somehow that gets you even more worked up, knowing that all your friends -- the uneaten ones, at least! -- will get to watch the whole time, as you go from a solid bulge to a sloshing sphere of slush.
Despite your fatigue, you still eagerly notice every shift and squelch, big and small, as Mira leaves her office, bouncing you gently back and forth with each stride she takes. You can’t see anything, but you can vividly imagine all the other students and faculty laying eyes on you, finally eaten -- or, at least, the bulge you’re making in the vixen’s belly.
You suppose that they can’t really tell it’s you, in there… Will anyone notice that you’re gone? Come to think of it, you might be the last of your friends to get eaten, so maybe they won’t. The idea of disappearing so completely and easily off the face of the earth is nearly enough to send you toward a second orgasm, but (with difficulty) you abstain. You wouldn’t want to spend your last hours of life chafed. And besides, it feels… crass, to be getting off as your lovely professor trots through the public hallways. It wouldn’t be an intimate moment between just Mira and yourself, anymore…
Once Mira reaches her class, she quickly takes attendance -- scratching off your name in red pen as she does -- then launches into a biology lecture like any other. Part of you is stunned by the… lack of acknowledgment you receive, but to the rest of you it all makes total sense. Of course this is treated like any other day. To Mira and the rest of the class, it is just another normal day, and you’re just an average breakfast. You’re not the first human student to embark on this eight-meter journey, from the vixen’s mouth to her personal office toilet… nor will you be the last!
Slowly, the excitement of being swallowed begins to fade to a warm glow. The constant little gurgles and glorps of Mira’s belly, while wonderful, start to become familiar. You find yourself in the middle of class and a lecture which you certainly won't have any use for now. And so, sleep begins to take you.
Though not very deeply, and not for very long -- not yet.
You find yourself drifting in and out, briefly called back to consciousness by a conversation or a cough or a clench. Mostly you’re just drifting in a happy, half-asleep haze. Time seems to blur together in the soft darkness of Mira’s belly, and the little sensations of the outside world just feel so far away now… And each time you wake up, you’re a little softer, and you stay aware for a little less long.
One of the more common sensations to wake you up is a little rush of air as Mira lets out a polite belch. You can feel the vixen raising her paw in front of her mouth each time, with a polite apology right on the tip of her tongue… along with the wonderful reminder of your taste, of course.
Every so often you wake up in the middle of her lecture, and sometimes you even catch her talking about you… “Oh, I expect today’s breakfast to yield about thirty pounds of fat, twenty pounds of muscle, seventy pounds of solid waste, plus a few gallons of urine!” Mira tells a student cheerfully, making you blush bright red. For obvious reasons, you find this lesson particularly interesting, and ward off sleep as best you can to listen: your favorite predator-professor is lecturing on the details of the anthro excretory system, every so often giving her students a very matter-of-fact answer about vulpine biology -- or rather, about what’s currently happening to you.
A bit to your surprise, Mira even involves you in the conversation at times. Whenever she notices that you’re awake, she tends to ask you some specific detail about your diet (to talk about secondhand nutrient absorption) or your exercise habits (to judge how your BMI will affect her digestion). Even though you’re well on your way to becoming fox-pudge, Mira is careful to still keep all her questions soft and kind and gentle. All the more incentive for you to try and stay awake just a little bit longer, to be of convenience to Mira and her (increasingly horny) students -- rather, your former classmates.
Her belly has other ideas, however, and by the end of that lecture it’s managed to massage you right back into slumber. You wake a few more times afterwards… but as Mira’s day wears on, you wear away, the vixen’s belly shrinking under the loving care of several human belly-rubbing volunteers. Some of them seem to be looking for a ticket to rub her stomach from the inside once you’re gone. Students, anthro and human alike, watch spellbound as you digest in real-time, in front of the class…
As Mira’s lecture winds down, you’re largely left alone, which is just as well since you don’t think you can hold much of a conversation anymore. The only interactions you have are with Mira and her soft stomach, gently kneading you as you rub -- and slosh -- right back. You’re slowly, softly fading away, everything dissolving to a happy and warm darkness. And at last you give in, giving yourself to her…
When the bell finally rings, Mira sighs in utter relief. Finally, she just needs a few quick moments to catch that elusive orgasm that escaped from her mid-meal! Her breakfast deserves a properly blissful sendoff, after all… even if technically they’re already gone. Details, details. But every single time that Mira searches for a supply closet to go paw off in -- dammit, she’s so horny that she’s leaving behind puddles when she walks -- she gets called away to do some other new work. Work that tragically doesn’t involve a quickie or a paw-off, goddess damn this busy schedule (she grumbles to herself).
“Mira, would you be a dear and help this student fill out his belly-transfer paperwork? I can’t find Evelyn, she’s probably off coaching the soccer team again…”
(“Yes, of course, Betty! Lemme just look up his ID and nutritional ratings real quick…”)
“Professor Ravaaaaaa, my dog ate my project partner… Again…”
(“I understand, but if your grades keep falling we may need to have a talk about your suitability for this academic program, okay? Once I’m no longer full, that is…”)
“E-excuse me, Ms. Fox-Lady, I’m afraid that I got separated from my tour group. Would you mind escorting me to the toilets? Dean Ursine said they’re the next stop on the tour.”
(“I’m afraid my belly is taken at the moment, so I can’t escort you personally… But I’d be happy to introduce you to any of our talented Nom U faculty! Or my darling husband!~”)
You know, normal university professor problems! What kind of job doesn’t give breaks to paw off?? At this point of pent-up frustration, Mira gives serious consideration to just pawing off in the middle of her next conversation. She’s pretty sure that everyone would understand efficient multitasking…
But finally, the pressure beneath the vixen’s tail becomes too sharp to ignore. Mira politely excuses herself from the newest responsibility someone’s trying to foist on her, and rushes back toward the office where she started her day. Sure, Mira could use one of the student restrooms, but those don’t have those fancy new heated toilet seats, to Pamper Her Rear™ (as those cheerful ads on TV say).
And a few moments later, there’s a flush from Mira’s private restroom, mingled with a happy yelp as the poor pent-up vixen finally finishes that interrupted orgasm. Mira wipes her rear clean with your double-ply diploma, letting it fall with a splat onto the pile of fox-shit and fox-piss completely filling her private toilet bowl. The vixen eyes the pile, then nods in satisfaction: her in-class estimate of seventy pounds of waste seems to be right on the mark! The perks of being a biology teacher…
As your remains swirl their way down the pipes, Mira casually washes her paws, then gives a quite satisfied stretch… after giving her newly expanded figure an appreciative look in the mirror, naturally.
You really did go right to her hips! And to plenty of other places, too. The vixen pokes her belly, then smiles fondly. “Ah, even as a professor, there’s no way to avoid the freshman fifteen…”
Still, there’s downsides to a curvy fox getting ever more buxom with each student she “graduates”: when Mira tries to slip into her suit, she strains for several moments before giving up. She’ll have to get it retailored again. Really, twice in a single week? The things she does for her students’ comfort…
Of course, Mira muses, her most shy student seems to be quite comfortable at the moment, padding her chest and rump! It seems that a bit of up-close-and-personal experience with an anthro’s naked body has quite completely cured your shyness. But as Mira’s belly rumbles, ready for a nice and filling lunch, she gives one last fond glance to your shoes, still lying on the floor of her office. Maybe she’ll keep those, as a little memento. The vixen prides herself on remembering her best-tasting students!
…And the bell signaling her next class period rings, startling the vixen out of her thoughts. Mira sighs irritably… and instantly, you’re quite forgotten. “Not even enough time for lunch? I guess I’ll need to eat in class again…” the fox huffs to herself, before folding her suit and leaving it on the back of her chair. Shyness from students aside, Mira has missed feeling her fur flow in the breeze…