vore povs because why not

whitty vore POV

You aimlessly walk through the streets, I mean, after your rap battle with that Pico guy, you definitely need a break. You walk down the sidewalk for what seemed like a century. You then hear somebody mumble profanity about..that purple dude you fought? You could barely make out what he was saying, but you knew it was about that dude. You walk towards the individual, unknowing what you were getting into.

"Fucking dick." You hear him grumble out of his mouth. You walk towards him, ready to ask him what he was doing. He lets out an angry sigh which turned into a yell. You back away, startled. He turns around. "W-What the hell are you doing here?" You respond with a request for a rap battle. "Well, alright, if that's what you want." He placed down a boombox with what seemed to be a tape already in it. "Let's get it." He said. He did prove to be tough, however. And, after a couple rounds, you, unfortunately, lost. "Ah, well, good try kid. Go back to whatever you were doing. I'm not worth your time." He turned away, but then, immediately turned back. "Actually...I'm quite hungry after that battle..and I'd never mind somebody your size as a meal for me~" he said. 

He grabbed your shirt before you could react. His stomach growled heavily, indicating he hadn't eaten in quite a while. He lifed you upward towards his face, more specifically, his maw. He opened it wide, his tongue was a bright and glowing light yellow, with orange to surround it. He then shoved you in his drooling cavity. He wasted no time swallowing you down. The orange of his mouth faded away to his deep, dark black esophagus. It wasn't long until you'd entered his warm, black gut. "That's what you get for messing with me, little man." He said while patting his belly. "Oh yeah, if you're wonderin my name, it's Whitty. Remember that, or not." He said. You rested in his stomach for god knows how long, the heat killing you. It also smelt like gun powder and smoke. 

It took around 30 more minutes to pass until Whittys' acids started to rise upward. This was it. You felt your skin dissolve into fat, then your muscles, then your organs, and then, you were left as bones. Whitty then belched out what was left of you. What came out was your slightly dissolved hat and your ribs. "Jesus, he was quite the stomach filler. I mean, I look like a tub of lard!" He said, angrily. He calmed down, however, as your remains floated in his stomach acids.