Water Ruins Cuisine

SW stories that include violence or extreme injuries etc.

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randomguywhosthere
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Water Ruins Cuisine

Post by randomguywhosthere » Thu Jun 01, 2023 11:19 pm

Water Ruins Cuisine

Disclaimer: This story is effectively a fanfiction for an obscure mobile game which I recommend that no one plays since its a massive pay-to-win mess.
Also this story contains vore and tiny monster girls.


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It was the early evening when Ian Grant stepped out of the general store where he worked. He made sure to turn the sign hanging from the door so that the word “CLOSED” was facing outwards before locking the door behind him. He could smell the salty wind in the air, blown in from the harbour by an ocean breeze. The sunset bathed the whole town in a calming, orange glow.

The wind carried a slight chill and Ian adjusted his coat, when his stomach began to growl. Running a hand through his hair, he decided he would be eating out tonight, as he navigated the streets to a familiar establishment.

A ringing bell attached to the restaurant’s doorframe announced Ian’s arrival, although the sound was barely noticeable amidst the noise of crowded tables and drunk, chatty patrons leaning over the bar. High above, a chandelier cast a glow similar to the setting sun across the whole interior of the building. Despite the business, a barmaid noticed Ian and waved him over. It was Dailen, who immediately recognized Ian as a pseudo-regular customer.

She had a pretty face with fair skin and curly blonde hair which rested on her shoulders. She wore a tan coloured, well-worn work dress which accentuated her features. Ian tried not to stare too much as her curvaceous body swayed while she led him to his table.

“Welcome, Mr. Grant!” Dailen said cheerfully as Ian took his seat at a small table off to the side, near a window covered by a red curtain. “What can I get you to start off with?”

“Hmm…” Ian considered his options, the menu memorized from previous visits. “To start, I’ll have a dish of timid whelks and a cold seahorse milk, please.”

“I’ll be right back,” Dailen replied before trotting off to the kitchen. While waiting for his appetizer, Ian took a little bit of time to reflect. Rather than follow in his father’s footsteps and become a fisherman, he had become a store manager’s apprentice. His mother would probably be proud of him for managing to keep his own life together on his own, and his father would probably understand his reluctance to find a career out at sea.

After a few short minutes, Dailen returned carrying a tray. On it was a variety of other patrons’ orders as well as Ian’s: a small plate and glass of milk, both of which Dailen handled with ease, placing the meal in front of Ian.

“Enjoy!” she said with a smile as she moved away to fulfil the other customers’ orders. “And let me know if there’s anything else I can get you!”

On the plate in front of Ian was a spread knife, a warm glob of butter, and 5 live “timid whelks” as they were known, most likely fished from the coral reefs nearby the ancient, underwater temples out at sea. Most prominent were their shells: 2 inches tall, sandy-pearl coloured, and dotted with a few protective spikes. Their hard surfaces were glistening with dew as if they had been pulled out of the ocean mere moments ago. The shells were exceptionally durable, meant to protect the vulnerable, tiny, humanoid creatures inside each of them.

Though most of the shells were face-down, one of the whelks had gotten curious and was peeking out from under its protective enclosure. Ian could see the face of a miniature, humanoid girl with one arm resting on the plate and the other holding up the edge of the shell. Her face and arms were tinted a pinkish red colour, as if her whole body was blushing at once. Her hair was another, darker shade of pink, with two flat, horn-like protrusions on top of her head sort of resembling natural hairpins. Her eyes darted around, not quite realizing where she was. Ian figured he’d leave that one alone for now.

Reaching down, he plucked the nearest shell right off the plate and flipped it around so that the whelk inside was facing upwards. He could see the teal-haired whelk inside was clutching the rim of the shell with her tiny hands, her head swaying with dizziness.

Before she could reorient herself, Ian placed his lips around the shell’s opening and sucked hard, the pressure yanking the tiny girl right out of her shell. Feeling the soft, slippery body land on his tongue, he tilted his head back and let her slide to the back of his throat. Just as she began to tickle his uvula, he flexed his tongue and swallowed with a pronounced gulp. He sighed contently and held his free hand up to his chest as his throat muscles squeezed her squirming form below his collarbone and towards his stomach.

Already hungry for more, Ian dropped the now vacant shell to the plate and grabbed a second. Pressing it to his mouth, he applied a similar suction to its entrance, but no whelk emerged. Furrowing his brow, Ian stared into the dark insides, the golden haired minigirl with star shaped horn-clips had thoroughly wedged herself inside of her protective enclosure. Sticking his tongue through the hole, Ian licked around a bit trying to pry her free, but all that did was produce some cute little squeaks from the sturdy shell’s occupant.

Fortunately, the solution to this predicament came with the meal. His left hand holding the stubborn shell, Ian grabbed the spread knife with his right. Scooping up a small amount of butter, he jabbed the knife into the shell alongside its occupant, producing additional squeals as her grip quickly weakened and her body was stirred around by the blade. The knife was both smooth and blunt, deliberately unable to cut anything but the most unstable materials as to not damage the food it was smothering.

With his seafood sufficiently buttered up, Ian pressed the shell to his lips again. With just a single slurp, the timid whelk shot right out, her momentum carrying her all the way back and down his gullet, he barely needed to swallow as the slippery creature slid all the way down.

Ian didn’t hesitate before taking a third shell. Knife still in hand, he jammed another glob of butter inside before slurping the creature out, not bothering to get a good look at her. Pinning the whelk to the roof of his mouth, he scrubbed her buttery body with his tongue, humming with pleasure as the salty, savoury flavour was absorbed into his tastebuds. After a few more seconds, Ian flicked the tiny treat back and gulped her down easily.

Looking back down at his plate, Ian saw the pink-haired whelk was trying to escape! She had likely witnessed the fates of her fellow shellfish and was dragging her shell behind her towards the edge of the plate. She let out a squeal as her shell was lifted up, now dragging her along with it.

The whelk scrambled to re-enter the relative safety of her shell but was unable to outpace the maw descending upon her. Ian was able to use his tongue to scoop her right out and start sloshing her around his mouth, enjoying the feeling of her little arms flailing about against the insides of his cheeks as she was swished back and forth. Eventually, however, he was salivating way too much, so he emptied his mouth with a single gulp, the wave of saliva taking the tasty girl with it down his gullet.

An idea forming in his head, Ian picked up the last timid whelk shell and smothered it in the remaining glob of butter, covering not just the entrance but the whole surface with the gooey substance. After making sure it was sufficiently coated, Ian popped the whole shell right into his mouth. He rolled the hard, buttery object around with his tongue, making sure not to apply to much pressure to avoid getting hurt by the spikes.

Suddenly, while the shell’s opening was facing away from his throat, the timid whelk shot out of her shell. Ian, not expecting this, was unable to react fast enough to stop her as she slipped out between his lips and fell directly into his lap. Embarrassed, he spit out the now empty shell and retrieved the slippery little escapee, plucking her up by the waist with two fingers and gently placing her back on his plate.

Without its shell, a timid whelk almost looked like a miniature human girl, except for the natural hairpins of course, these ones in the shape of triangles, as well as some soft scales around the lower legs that were the same colour as their hair, in this case another cute shade of pink. She could barely stand, probably because her legs weren’t used to supporting her body’s weight.

With a simple poke, she fell backwards right onto her bum against the hard surface of the plate. With his index finger, Ian started absentmindedly tickling her bare belly. At first, she tried pushing the appendage back with her weak little arms, but she quickly succumbed to his prodding. Within seconds she was on her back, involuntarily giggling and flailing her limbs about. It was amusing how easily he could manipulate a creature so small with just a simple touch.

Deciding that he’d had enough fun, Ian stopped his tickling and used the finger and thumb of the same hand to grab one of her kicking legs by the ankle. The whelk’s laughing was immediately replaced with distressed squeaking as she was raised up and dangled in front of Ian’s awaiting maw. Extending his tongue below her, he drew in her upper body past his lips and slurped up her flailing legs. A second later and she was sliding down to join the rest of her kind in his stomach.

With the appetizers finished, Ian could feel the littlest tickling feeling coming from inside him. He figured he’d help his squirming meal settle down with a cold drink, so he picked up the so far neglected glass of milk and held it over the plate of empty shells.

Floundering in the nutritious liquid was a seahorse knight. Being from the ocean, the creature had effortlessly kept her head above the liquid’s surface the whole time. However, the milk was thicker (and not to mention less breathable for her kind) than water, preventing her from getting enough momentum to escape from the cup.

Seahorse knights resembled light-blue-skinned humanoid women standing (or swimming) 3 inches from head to toe. Their kind all had long blue hair, fins framing their heads like crowns and long, blue, scaly tails protruding from just above their buttocks. They were adorned with minimal amounts of fabric and seashell garments covering their most sensitive spots. Normally, they carried a shield and lance made of a pearl-like substance, which they were quite deadly with in open water despite their size. However, the small girl in his cup had obviously been stripped of her weapons.

Bringing the rim of the glass to his lips, Ian began slowly slurping down the milk inside. The seahorse woman, now realizing her situation, began frantically swimming in the opposite direction, propelling herself against the current of milk that was quickly draining around her as Ian tilted the glass further and further back. She suddenly herself flopping against the hard, transparent surface as her swimming space had been almost completely drained of the protein-rich drink that had filled it.

Ian threw his head back, and the nearly empty glass with it. The tiny aquatic woman flipped head over heels as the momentum launched her through the air. Ian widened his maw, and she fell right in. He closed his mouth tight, and her tail stuck out between his lips before he slurped it up. He twisted her around, pressing her chest to his tastebuds. While most of her garments were tightly secured, her tiny seashell bra came lose with just a little effort from Ian’s intruding tongue. He savored the taste and texture of her fit, well-endowed body, splayed out on his tongue as he scrubbed her back and forth. The seahorse’s body was so much larger and well defined than the whelks, and her fighting was much more pronounced, jerking around and filling his mouth with flavour.

Pushing her forward with an arch of his tongue, Ian spit the blue woman back out of his mouth, letting her fall to the bottom of the empty glass. Despite being coated in heavy saliva, the tiny knight recovered quickly. She began pounding on the sides of the glass, likely attempting to knock it over and escape.

“Oh! Would you like a refill?” Dailen asked as she passed by. She was holding a pitcher of milk and had likely just finished giving a refill to another customer.

“Yes please!” Ian said with a bit more enthusiasm than he intended. Dailen poured the pitcher into the glass, the white milk raining down upon its occupant.

Ian couldn’t help but smirk as the seahorse knight struggled to resurface amid the cold liquid filling the glass once more. Normally, he would feel remorse for such a tiny, helpless creature. But he was well aware of what her kind were normally capable of: Using their weapons to conjure deadly riptides and furious lightning, they were a scourge upon all who wished to cross the sea. They were the reasons for the unnatural storms destroying ships and dooming sailors who dared to “trespass” over their waters, they were the reason his father never returned from his overseas voyage.

Rather than pity, Ian only felt a satisfying sense of petty vengeance.

“Would you like to order anything else?” asked Dailen. Ian pondered for a moment and decided he wanted something special tonight.

“Do you have any goons in the back?” he asked. Dailen thought for a second before responding.

“I think we have at least one left,” she concluded. “I’ll have the kitchen prepare it extra spicy!”

“Oh, thank you very much.” Ian was grateful, sometimes goons would be out of stock for days at a time, as only greatly experienced sailors were capable of fishing them up and even that wasn’t very common.

As Dailen left to fulfil Ian’s order, he took a big swig from his drink. The seahorse knight inside was unprepared for the sudden motion and was swept back into his waiting maw. Her foot got caught between his lips and the rest of her body was slurped up in less than a second. The flow of the veritable milk waterfall was irresistible and with just a few big gulps, she was washed over the edge and down the esophagus as Ian finished his second glass. It may have just been his imagination, but he swore he could feel her splashing around inside his stomach.

A somewhat melodic sound drew Ian’s attention: a group of drunken fishermen were singing some kind of sea chanty together. Ian wondered how many of them he had to thank for tonight’s meal. The ocean was a dangerous place, especially thanks to the various denizens they were responsible for fishing up. Just hearing stories about ships sinking to the seafloor after being pockmarked with holes or sailors being dragged under by hungry sea monsters was enough to instill in him a fear of the open water at a very young age.

After his mother died of an unidentifiable illness, Ian’s apprenticeship at the nearby general store meant he was forced to remain in a town so close to the dreaded ocean. It wasn’t so bad, though. The pay was good, allowing him to keep ownership of his childhood home and occasionally come to somewhat luxurious places like this restaurant. Furthermore, his place of work meant that this was the closest he would ever need to get to a large body of water.

It terrified him, the sheer depths of the unknown and the vicious, lurking creatures. It was a place of risk, of danger, where land-dwellers were unwelcome. And yet, there were many either brave or foolish enough to regularly set out on their fragile ships and scour the danger for all it was worth. Indeed, it was the sailors that made this cathartic experience possible. To have so much power over the creatures that would normally be the source of his unending dread. Speaking of which...

Dailen returned once more with a ceramic bowl on a tray. The bowl was accompanied by a large, two-pronged fork and was covered by a metal lid. She placed the whole tray in front of Ian after clearing away his empty dishes, and removed the lid.

“You shall face our wrath!” A small yet furious voice emerged from the dish as it was uncovered. Sitting inside the bowl was a tiny goon, or “Z’ori’s goon” as they were called by experienced fishers and scholars. She was humanoid from the waist up, with light purple skin and well-endowed yet perfectly smooth breasts. Instead of hair, a number of blue tentacles as thick as her own arms adorned her head. Where her legs would be, her body instead split off into several thicker tentacles coloured a darker shade of purple below her hips. It was hard to tell how many limbs her lower body had, as they were submerged in a warm, translucent sauce with various spices and tiny breadcrumbs.

Goons were especially feared among the denizens living within the ocean ruins. Normally, they were much larger than the average human, and channeled powerful magic on the same level as a natural disaster. They often lived up to their reputation as direct followers of the Z’ori, the goddess of the depths.

Outside of their underwater domains, however, they tended to shrink in both power and size, making them much easier to catch. The woman in Ian’s bowl was nearly 4 and a half inches from her head to her waist, much larger than her lesser underwater kin, but still a “manageable” size. Goons could also speak, and tended to act as arrogant as a being as powerful as them was expected to be.

“How dare you ferry me to this dried-out location against my will!” The miniature squid woman shifted herself forward, towards the rim of the bowl closest to Ian. “My kind are not to be trifled with! Now suffer!” The goon raised her arms over the rim towards him. Her tentacles below the surface seemed to curl in tandem as she chanted something in the language of the ancients… but nothing happened.

Dailen giggled a little, using a hand to cover her grin while looking between Ian and the miniature squid girl posturing herself before him.

“I’ll give you two some ‘alone time,’” she said before departing. Z’ori’s goon ignored her. She repeated the same incantation over and over again, her expression becoming more strained each time. Ian picked up the fork and gently poked at her belly, causing her to recoil. She seemed more annoyed than concerned that her magic didn’t seem to be working.

“What is this trickery!?” she questioned.

“Oh, it’s simple, really,” Ian explained as he drew the fork closer to the purple woman. She once again avoided the metal implement, but only with her upper, humanoid body. “You have no power in this place.” Pointing it downward, Ian speared the fork into the dark sauce. Instead of skewering the goon’s lower body, he caught one of her tentacles between the teeth of the fork, twisting the utensil to loop it around like a noodle and prevent it from slipping free. She gasped once she realized what he had done.

“What are you-” she started before Ian interrupted.

“Your power, magic and strength all come from that ocean goddess ‘Z’ori’ who you serve,” he continued. “That power is centered in your ruined, underwater temples. However, outside of the ocean, without even a single speck of saltwater, you completely lose your magic, your strength, and even your size.”

As Ian spoke, he continued to twirl and prod his fork with practiced precision, gathering up as many tentacles as could fit around and between the dull metal prongs. Once her tendrils were sufficiently bunched up, he twisted the fork once more and lifted his catch upward, causing the goon’s upper body fall forward and be submerged by the spicy sauce. Ian held her there for just a moment before raising his hold higher, pulling her coughing, sputtering form up above the bowl, her “hair” hanging limp. Leaning forward, he dangled the miniature squid woman’s spice-stained form right in front of his face.

“Instead of filling the land dwellers with fear and dread, you’re just going to fill me,” he smirked, before parting his lips as wide as he could and lowering the purple goon into his waiting mouth. His tongue guided the tendrils on her head into his mouth as he slowly slurped her inside. The slimy, seafood flavour mixed with the spiciness of the sauce was euphoric.

“Arg!” she groaned with a mixture of anger and distress. “Y-You insolent creature! Our goddess shall smite y-” Her tirade was cut off as Ian’s lips suddenly clamped down over her shoulders.

Using his tongue to gather up her hanging breasts, Ian began pulling in her upper body, slurping and sucking on her as he did so. Her arms grabbed his face in a desperate attempt to halt her progress before the relatively tight entrance to his mouth forced them to her sides. Now engulfed down to her waist, she began thrashing around his mouth as much as she could while shouting muffled obscenities.

With the tentacles that made up the goon’s lower body wrapped around his fork, Ian pushed her further in. Her shouting became further muffled as her head entered his throat. Her breasts traced twin lines along his tongue, squeezing slightly as they passed over the threshold of his throat. A bulge formed in Ian’s neck as her body curved downward to begin her descent and he gulped her down bit by bit. He could feel vibrations in his throat caused by her constant yelling, how was she not out of breath yet?

Ian helped her along by massaging the goon-shaped indentation as it made progress through his gullet with one hand while using the other to shove the tendrils of her lower half further in. Normally, Ian wouldn’t be able to swallow food this big whole, but the goon’s flexible, squid-like anatomy worked against her, as her flexible body was squeezed and contorted by the throat muscles around her to allow passage further and further down. The squeeze became even tighter as she began to pass his collarbone, and the irresistible pull of the esophagus took over.

Ian dislodged the fork from the tangled tentacles, which attempted to slap against his face before they were all slurped up. The tentacles were covered in suction cups but the slippery, spicy sauce they had been immersed in rendered them unable to grip or stick to anything. All they could do was slide down with the rest of the goon’s body down Ian’s throat. He thumped his chest a few times to help get down her thicker parts and let out a sigh as the last mouthful was squeezed through his gullet.

Unfortunately, it seemed the stubborn goon had managed to get herself wedged right at the precipice of Ian’s stomach. He tried swallowing a few more times, but the stubborn girl refused to budge. The pressure was becoming painful as her body was being squeezed tighter inside him.

Thinking fast, Ian grabbed the bowl and chugged down the liquidy, spicy sauce. He felt the impromptu drink flow right through him, and soon enough the goon lost her purchase and fell right into his stomach. After finishing the bowl Ian pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and used it to wipe the remaining sauce from his lips and fingers.

He patted his belly, feeling bloated. He could feel Z’ori’s goon attempting to push against the stomach walls around her only for the organ to squeeze back tightly. She barely fit, cramped in a chamber only slightly less tight than she had been on the way down. Ian’s stomach began to groan, digestive efforts accelerated by his sudden fullness. The trashing of his meal made Ian feel like he was being massaged from the inside, so he simply sat back in his chair and relaxed until Dailen returned.

“Dessert?” she asked half-jokingly.

Ian perked up briefly, fantasizing about a trio of tiny mer-creatures bathed in chocolate before another kick from within brought his attention back to just how full he was.

“Actually, I think I’ll just pay and be on my way now,” Ian replied. He drew the necessary amount of cash from his coin pouch and handed it over, adding a tip. “Thank you very much for the meal.”

“You are very welcome,” she said. Dailen reached into her pocket and produced a distinct looking shell before handing it to Ian. “To go.”

Ian turned the shell over in his hand. He spied a green-haired timid whelk staring back up at him with a nervous expression. He wrapped the shell in his handkerchief before returning it to his pocket.

“Actually,” Ian said, standing. “I was wondering if it would be possible to form some kind of business arrangement. This restaurant is the only place this side of town where you can get food served with water ruin monsters, and it’s only open in the evenings. Would it be possible to, say, purchase regular deliveries to be sold at the store where I work? I’m not the manager of the place, but he’s my good friend and mentor.

Of course, the rare stuff would be sold here exclusively, but things like timid whelks would then be available during the day as well as for anyone who might not think to come and eat at an establishment like this.”

Dailen was taken aback by the sudden offer. “Well, I’d have to set up a meeting between the managers of both stores. How does… noon, the day after tomorrow sound?”

“That sounds wonderful!” replied Ian as he stepped away from his table. “I’ll see you around.”

Exiting the restaurant, the air was much colder, and the wind was still. The sun had finally fully set, and the full moon shone down upon the lantern-lit streets. The natural and artificial lights combined into a relaxing glow.

As Ian made his way home, his stomach was full, a snack was in his pocket and his mind was full of opportunity. Despite the obstacles that life had thrown at him in the past, he had managed to survive and thrive. The things that once brought him fear were now nothing more than commodities to bring him comfort and fortune. He thought to himself that yes, his parents definitely would be proud of him.

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Re: Water Ruins Cuisine

Post by HHunter1 » Fri Jun 02, 2023 7:20 pm

Well that was interesting. Curious and fun. Thanks for sharing. As for pay to win games, I avoid those like the plague. 😛

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Re: Water Ruins Cuisine

Post by randomguywhosthere » Sat Jun 03, 2023 2:17 am

Thank you very much for reading! I'm glad you enjoyed it and found it fun. Comments give me life!

Also yea, the only reason I stayed in the game long enough to get inspired to write this (all the monstergirls are based on enemies from an in-game event) was because the other players in my guild were super chill and actually encouraged me to write this, which was the first time anyone I met was so enthusiastic about my vorish fantasies.

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Re: Water Ruins Cuisine

Post by HHunter1 » Sat Jun 03, 2023 12:40 pm

Oh I understand that statement, comments seem to be the super fuel to my creative urges.

I get staying in a game long enough to know the lore. I have played games in the past to fulfil my curiosity even if I wasn't enjoying the game itself. And I'm glad you had supportive team mates there. Hope you were able to translate them to friends outside the one environment.

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Re: Water Ruins Cuisine

Post by Hand-Holder » Mon Jun 05, 2023 7:22 am

Wowww, this was weird, but very creative, thanks for sharing. It would do a great video, without words, just things happening, cheers
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Re: Water Ruins Cuisine

Post by randomguywhosthere » Mon Jun 05, 2023 7:47 am

Thanks for the comment. I'm always happy to read my readers reactions to my stuff.

Yea, I'd definitely love to see a scene like this as an animated video of some kind. I remember thewiking2000 did some fantastic vore animations, but I always wished he would do one with a male pred.

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