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His crown felt leaden and cold on his brow much like the dread that had soaked his slumber every night. The rain probably contributed to that too. His cloak was good at storing essential adventuring tools, not necessarily well suited for keeping out the spray of the rainstorm. The fact it was well past midnight likely was a factor in his sullen walk outside the castle grounds as well. What else was he to do? Lie in bed, agonizing over fits of confused anxiety as he tossed and turned, both unwilling to sleep and uncertain if he could make sense of any of his royal responsibilities that waited for him in the morning?\n\nKing Graham had decided it was better to stomach the rain than the silk sheets. More ideal to bear the chilly evening than a warm fireplace. The company of a fat bridge troll was more fitting for this monarch than the endless flattery of knights and servants that were at his every beck and call.\n\nThe low, thunderous hum of the bridge troll’s horn echoed across the way and Graham waited at the gap in the road. He waited with great discomfort. He dug through the pockets of his cape, fidgeting with each forgotten item and examining them until he heard the loud thumps of distant, giant footsteps. In the young king’s heart, he knew Olfie was a friend. Yet, seeing a mass of rock and fleshy flab lumbering towards you, a hill of muscle and bulk stacked with a bridge on top and angling over the massive head, still sent his nerves on edge. The sagging frown the troll wore quickly swerved up when he saw the glittering crown and the long, red cape being battered by the rain.\n\n“King Goosey! Fancy meeting you out here,” Olfie bellowed excitedly. \n\n“Hey Olfie, uh,” Graham immediately felt his voice crack and wane. “Nice night, right?”\n\n“Sure, if you like being wet.” The bridge troll’s smile persisted, but began to slack when Graham awkwardly stepped in a zig zag pattern to avoid the torrents of water that poured down the troll’s overhanging bridge on his shoulders. “I’m getting the idea that you didn’t blow my horn to tromp cross some goofy bridge troll’s back.”\n\n“I didn’t, no.”\n\nOlfie seemed to understand the perplexity of this visit. “You know I’m not as good with words as Pilar so you’re going to have to start off somewhere we can both understand.”\n\nI might as well come out and say it, Graham thought and then he said in a wavering tone. “Have you ever eaten people, Olfie?”\n\n“Uhh,” The bridge troll itched the side of his floppy jowls, as though trying to recall. “I mean, I don’t really think about what I’m eating most of the time. Just sort of reach down and munch on something if it looks tasty. Bridge trolls don’t need to eat much. We’re kind of slow and lazy. Not great at chasing people. Arms are too small to reach up and snatch folks too.” He frowned, scratching his jowls. “I think a lot of the folks around here are just a hassle to eat. If you want to eat a knight you have to rip his armor off while he yells at you and if you want to eat anyone else you have to peel their clothes off or else you’ll get indigestion. Pilar likes to collect clothes that she can’t fit into. I think she likes to hold pretend parties.”\n\n“I see. Thanks for answering so honestly.” Graham said. \n\nOlfie eyed the small king and sighed, his look of concern making the tiny human feel as small as a mouse. “Alright, what’s gotten the goosey’s feathers all flat tonight? Bad dreams?”\n\n“I think? I don’t know if they are.” He paused, wincing. “Bad. I’m having these weird dreams lately. Actually, wait, they are bad. Definitely bad. Cursed bad. Could it be a curse?”\n\n“What do you dream about?” The giant creature asked, crossing his arms on the muddy ledge and laying his head on them. “Something scary like a big boulder rolling after you?”\n\n“Almost all the time! Sometimes it’s that big dragon that was chained up under the well. Other times it’s a giant squirrel. More often than not, I’m in a dark place and I try to wiggle around and get out but I can’t. Eventually I realize I’m in a stomach-” Graham couldn’t go on. He felt so un-kingly talking about it. He watched the troll’s massive face for a response or reaction Olfie gave none, merely staring at the small king as Graham paced back and forth. “It’s been bothering me a lot lately. I think about all the times I could’ve been eaten or how badly things could have gone during my adventures.”\n\nOlfie frowned, now deeply contemplating the king’s concern. “These dreams happen often?”\n\n“Every night! Sometimes I’m tumbling down its throat or being tossed around on its tongue, dodging its teeth. I don’t even know what’s eating me but when I get swallowed up by this thing I do that thing,” Graham wrung the red cloak in his hands, stammering until he clenched his teeth together and took in a long, deep breath through his flared nostrils. “I have to change the sheets before the staff comes in every morning!”\n\nOlfie tittered. It was a sound that was unlike a big, impressive monster like a bridge troll. Graham felt his cheeks flush with embarrassment Olfie said, “There’s nothing wrong with wetting the bed if you have scary dreams0, King Goosey. I’m the only one out here to hear you. No judgment.”\n\n“No, I mean,” Graham bit his lip fiercely, uncertain whether it was proper to have this sort of talk with a bridge troll. “I mean, I ‘wet’ the bed when I have these dreams. The good kind of wet.” Sheepishly, he mimed a gushing hose around his groin with his hands.\n\nOlfie blinked.\n\nGraham waved him down and leaned close to his ear and mumbled the plain truth as loud as he dared. A moment later the troll suddenly let out a loud guffaw and Graham felt the earth tremble as he stomped one foot on the ground as he let out a belly shaking laugh. \n\n“Olfie, not so loud!”\n\n“King Goosey thinks being eaten is sexy!” He laughed so loud that Graham twisted his head back to the castle in fear, then the slumbering town further down the road. The previous comfort the troll had given for his reliableness to keeping a low profile was very much at risk all of a sudden.\n\n“Shh, shh! Everyone will hear you! I do not want to make a royal decree that bans the word ‘sexy’ but I will if everyone in the kingdom learns about this!” He straightened himself, adjusting his crown to help regain some dignity. “I’d rather people think I wet the bed than knowing this. I have get-eaten-by-a-monster dreams and I can’t stop it. I make juice all over the sheets. This is not something a king should struggle with!”\n\n“Goosie can use correct terminology.” Olfie whispered, his smile wider than ever. “The bridge troll union has given seminars on positive sexual identity and diversity counseling, especially when it comes to edible allies. No judgments! King Goosie makes a messy cum every night. Boldly state your concerns openly and honestly.” The bridge troll held up his massive hands in a placating gesture.\n\n“I am not going to say that I orgasm after dreams where I get eaten to anyone but you, my single confidant. A king can’t go see a professional about them. This is something that a witch or some kind of dream fairy should be handling.” Suddenly, his mind was turning towards what sort of adventure he would need to undertake to beat this debilitating issue. “Maybe there is a magic cannon that can blast this obsession out of my head.” Graham said thoughtfully.\n\n“I’m kind of a professional, now that you mention it.”\n\nGraham tipped his head up to stare warily at the troll. “A professional listener?”\n\n“A professional man-eater!” Olfie said much too quickly, “Olfie is very open minded and possesses a good sense of self-control for every kind of sensitive topic.”\n\nGraham pursed his lips suspiciously. “I was present for one of these seminars when you were able to jockey for sweet snacks instead of Pelare's savory streak.” He narrowed his eyes. “That was the worst display of self-control have ever seen and I am suddenly regretting ever bringing this up to you.”\n\n“We need to get you the release you deserve.” Without any further warning the troll reached down and plucked Graham up. His touch was delicate, like taking an treat from a platter of appetizers.\n\nThe young king kicked and waved his arms, his voice sounding more worried than anything resembling outright terror. “What are you doing?”\n\nThe thick lips spread in a grin and in the time it took for Olfie to wink at Graham he lifted him by the king’s red cloak and dropped him into his gaping maw. Graham yelled, no longer worried about who might hear. He shut his eyes, scrunched up his rail thin limbs around his chest, and landed on Olfie’s mouth like a lozenge. The sensation of tumbling onto the raised tongue was a shock but not as much as when the bridge troll closed his mouth. The din of the rain and the cold wind of the night went away as easy as if someone had closed a window.\n\n“Mmmm,” The throaty hum of satisfaction surrounded Graham and he was suddenly jostled about on the soft, warm tongue as Olfie spoke clumsily. “Fi fi fo fum, this king is as tasty as my thumb. Wait, did you say a giant ate you? Sorry if not, Olfie only knows beanstalk giant quotes.”\n\n“Stop talking!” Graham shouted as he was buffeted against the roof of the troll’s mouth. Then, he screamed as he felt himself tumbling without a clue if it was back towards the depths of the squishy throat or into the press of the crushing teeth on either side of him. “This isn’t how I wanted you to help, Olfie!”\n\n“No?” Olfie said, his tone still cheerful. “King Goosie not like being food?”\n\nWhen the world stopped thrashing around him with that question, Graham collapsed into a ball and felt the spongy flat of the floor beneath him. It went still when his face pressed against it. A hot breath from the depths of the troll’s chest. The cold in the king’s bones ebbed even as the drool quickly replaced the rain soaked clothes he wore. As soon as he began to orient himself and let his senses become immersed in the truth of his situation Graham began to feel his body relax. First, his curled form spread out cautiously in the dark, humid maw. Then he tested his balance and crawled backwards from the back of the tongue to the plump line of Olfie’s frown beyond his teeth. Kneeling there, Graham collected himself. He took off his crown and wondered why he’d worn it out here? Why he wore it every minute of the day. Like the cloak his mother made for him, it was just a costume that he had yet to grow into. A fantasy that people laughed at him for wanting and he’d won it all the same.\n\nSo why was he so compelled to feel the intense emotional upheaval of loss? Graham placed his palms on the back of the inhuman, uneven teeth before him and felt not alarm but a thrill that was so rare these days. It was less that he was so close to danger that he was so close to a dangerous friend. Not to little King Graham because the bridge troll knew that Graham had never started as a king or a knight. Just a hopeful adventurer that might have been nothing but a mouthful had things gone differently.\n\n“Goosie?” Olfie said, the worry evident in his voice.\n\nThe adventurer’s arm popped out of the corner of Olfie’s mouth. “Can you hang this up on your tusk? Like a trophy?” In that outstretched arm was the crown of Daventry.\n\n/ / / / / / / / / \n\nI apologize for not having art of these two so I stole this screenshot of good boy graham and the giant hunky bridge troll Olfie they aren't owned by me but I think about their friendships and copulation A LOT.\n\nHi, it's me and I needed to very quickly get this little scene out of my head and out here in the open because these two are cute together and I was very disappointed there wasn't an appropriate game over in the first chapter. This is also one of my favorite games so if you need something that will knock anything Telltale Games has ever done and deserves your cash try out King's Quest. \n\nAs for an update on my activities, I'm still working at my horse job full time and tackling writing projects that are not horny (also imposter syndrome is a freaky ugly thing that I am going to therapy for and my will to live have strengthened into an even greater will to write things that inspire erections as well as other FEELINGS ). Recently there has been movement on a tabletop roleplaying game that is based on one of my favorite book series and it's surreal just casually chatting with an author you admire about their setting and characters between emails. I hope everyone is doing okay and if I can ride this short, lighthearted scene up with a longer followup of happy fun vore instead of the hard boiled Toothpick that I still have some scenes to explore.\n\nI wanna get a visual novel going but whoa people reading things I write is scary better just thank all of you for just being here I appreciate it. These are trying times but not trying enough that we can't treasure the things that give us comfort and joy.", "description_bbcode_parsed": "The walk to the bridge was always a cheerful one in King Graham’s experience but this time he walked with less cheer. His crown felt leaden and cold on his brow much like the dread that had soaked his slumber every night. The rain probably contributed to that too. His cloak was good at storing essential adventuring tools, not necessarily well suited for keeping out the spray of the rainstorm. The fact it was well past midnight likely was a factor in his sullen walk outside the castle grounds as well. What else was he to do? Lie in bed, agonizing over fits of confused anxiety as he tossed and turned, both unwilling to sleep and uncertain if he could make sense of any of his royal responsibilities that waited for him in the morning?

King Graham had decided it was better to stomach the rain than the silk sheets. More ideal to bear the chilly evening than a warm fireplace. The company of a fat bridge troll was more fitting for this monarch than the endless flattery of knights and servants that were at his every beck and call.

The low, thunderous hum of the bridge troll’s horn echoed across the way and Graham waited at the gap in the road. He waited with great discomfort. He dug through the pockets of his cape, fidgeting with each forgotten item and examining them until he heard the loud thumps of distant, giant footsteps. In the young king’s heart, he knew Olfie was a friend. Yet, seeing a mass of rock and fleshy flab lumbering towards you, a hill of muscle and bulk stacked with a bridge on top and angling over the massive head, still sent his nerves on edge. The sagging frown the troll wore quickly swerved up when he saw the glittering crown and the long, red cape being battered by the rain.

“King Goosey! Fancy meeting you out here,” Olfie bellowed excitedly.

“Hey Olfie, uh,” Graham immediately felt his voice crack and wane. “Nice night, right?”

“Sure, if you like being wet.” The bridge troll’s smile persisted, but began to slack when Graham awkwardly stepped in a zig zag pattern to avoid the torrents of water that poured down the troll’s overhanging bridge on his shoulders. “I’m getting the idea that you didn’t blow my horn to tromp cross some goofy bridge troll’s back.”

“I didn’t, no.”

Olfie seemed to understand the perplexity of this visit. “You know I’m not as good with words as Pilar so you’re going to have to start off somewhere we can both understand.”

I might as well come out and say it, Graham thought and then he said in a wavering tone. “Have you ever eaten people, Olfie?”

“Uhh,” The bridge troll itched the side of his floppy jowls, as though trying to recall. “I mean, I don’t really think about what I’m eating most of the time. Just sort of reach down and munch on something if it looks tasty. Bridge trolls don’t need to eat much. We’re kind of slow and lazy. Not great at chasing people. Arms are too small to reach up and snatch folks too.” He frowned, scratching his jowls. “I think a lot of the folks around here are just a hassle to eat. If you want to eat a knight you have to rip his armor off while he yells at you and if you want to eat anyone else you have to peel their clothes off or else you’ll get indigestion. Pilar likes to collect clothes that she can’t fit into. I think she likes to hold pretend parties.”

“I see. Thanks for answering so honestly.” Graham said.

Olfie eyed the small king and sighed, his look of concern making the tiny human feel as small as a mouse. “Alright, what’s gotten the goosey’s feathers all flat tonight? Bad dreams?”

“I think? I don’t know if they are.” He paused, wincing. “Bad. I’m having these weird dreams lately. Actually, wait, they are bad. Definitely bad. Cursed bad. Could it be a curse?”

“What do you dream about?” The giant creature asked, crossing his arms on the muddy ledge and laying his head on them. “Something scary like a big boulder rolling after you?”

“Almost all the time! Sometimes it’s that big dragon that was chained up under the well. Other times it’s a giant squirrel. More often than not, I’m in a dark place and I try to wiggle around and get out but I can’t. Eventually I realize I’m in a stomach-” Graham couldn’t go on. He felt so un-kingly talking about it. He watched the troll’s massive face for a response or reaction Olfie gave none, merely staring at the small king as Graham paced back and forth. “It’s been bothering me a lot lately. I think about all the times I could’ve been eaten or how badly things could have gone during my adventures.”

Olfie frowned, now deeply contemplating the king’s concern. “These dreams happen often?”

“Every night! Sometimes I’m tumbling down its throat or being tossed around on its tongue, dodging its teeth. I don’t even know what’s eating me but when I get swallowed up by this thing I do that thing,” Graham wrung the red cloak in his hands, stammering until he clenched his teeth together and took in a long, deep breath through his flared nostrils. “I have to change the sheets before the staff comes in every morning!”

Olfie tittered. It was a sound that was unlike a big, impressive monster like a bridge troll. Graham felt his cheeks flush with embarrassment Olfie said, “There’s nothing wrong with wetting the bed if you have scary dreams0, King Goosey. I’m the only one out here to hear you. No judgment.”

“No, I mean,” Graham bit his lip fiercely, uncertain whether it was proper to have this sort of talk with a bridge troll. “I mean, I ‘wet’ the bed when I have these dreams. The good kind of wet.” Sheepishly, he mimed a gushing hose around his groin with his hands.

Olfie blinked.

Graham waved him down and leaned close to his ear and mumbled the plain truth as loud as he dared. A moment later the troll suddenly let out a loud guffaw and Graham felt the earth tremble as he stomped one foot on the ground as he let out a belly shaking laugh.

“Olfie, not so loud!”

“King Goosey thinks being eaten is sexy!” He laughed so loud that Graham twisted his head back to the castle in fear, then the slumbering town further down the road. The previous comfort the troll had given for his reliableness to keeping a low profile was very much at risk all of a sudden.

“Shh, shh! Everyone will hear you! I do not want to make a royal decree that bans the word ‘sexy’ but I will if everyone in the kingdom learns about this!” He straightened himself, adjusting his crown to help regain some dignity. “I’d rather people think I wet the bed than knowing this. I have get-eaten-by-a-monster dreams and I can’t stop it. I make juice all over the sheets. This is not something a king should struggle with!”

“Goosie can use correct terminology.” Olfie whispered, his smile wider than ever. “The bridge troll union has given seminars on positive sexual identity and diversity counseling, especially when it comes to edible allies. No judgments! King Goosie makes a messy cum every night. Boldly state your concerns openly and honestly.” The bridge troll held up his massive hands in a placating gesture.

“I am not going to say that I orgasm after dreams where I get eaten to anyone but you, my single confidant. A king can’t go see a professional about them. This is something that a witch or some kind of dream fairy should be handling.” Suddenly, his mind was turning towards what sort of adventure he would need to undertake to beat this debilitating issue. “Maybe there is a magic cannon that can blast this obsession out of my head.” Graham said thoughtfully.

“I’m kind of a professional, now that you mention it.”

Graham tipped his head up to stare warily at the troll. “A professional listener?”

“A professional man-eater!” Olfie said much too quickly, “Olfie is very open minded and possesses a good sense of self-control for every kind of sensitive topic.”

Graham pursed his lips suspiciously. “I was present for one of these seminars when you were able to jockey for sweet snacks instead of Pelare's savory streak.” He narrowed his eyes. “That was the worst display of self-control have ever seen and I am suddenly regretting ever bringing this up to you.”

“We need to get you the release you deserve.” Without any further warning the troll reached down and plucked Graham up. His touch was delicate, like taking an treat from a platter of appetizers.

The young king kicked and waved his arms, his voice sounding more worried than anything resembling outright terror. “What are you doing?”

The thick lips spread in a grin and in the time it took for Olfie to wink at Graham he lifted him by the king’s red cloak and dropped him into his gaping maw. Graham yelled, no longer worried about who might hear. He shut his eyes, scrunched up his rail thin limbs around his chest, and landed on Olfie’s mouth like a lozenge. The sensation of tumbling onto the raised tongue was a shock but not as much as when the bridge troll closed his mouth. The din of the rain and the cold wind of the night went away as easy as if someone had closed a window.

“Mmmm,” The throaty hum of satisfaction surrounded Graham and he was suddenly jostled about on the soft, warm tongue as Olfie spoke clumsily. “Fi fi fo fum, this king is as tasty as my thumb. Wait, did you say a giant ate you? Sorry if not, Olfie only knows beanstalk giant quotes.”

“Stop talking!” Graham shouted as he was buffeted against the roof of the troll’s mouth. Then, he screamed as he felt himself tumbling without a clue if it was back towards the depths of the squishy throat or into the press of the crushing teeth on either side of him. “This isn’t how I wanted you to help, Olfie!”

“No?” Olfie said, his tone still cheerful. “King Goosie not like being food?”

When the world stopped thrashing around him with that question, Graham collapsed into a ball and felt the spongy flat of the floor beneath him. It went still when his face pressed against it. A hot breath from the depths of the troll’s chest. The cold in the king’s bones ebbed even as the drool quickly replaced the rain soaked clothes he wore. As soon as he began to orient himself and let his senses become immersed in the truth of his situation Graham began to feel his body relax. First, his curled form spread out cautiously in the dark, humid maw. Then he tested his balance and crawled backwards from the back of the tongue to the plump line of Olfie’s frown beyond his teeth. Kneeling there, Graham collected himself. He took off his crown and wondered why he’d worn it out here? Why he wore it every minute of the day. Like the cloak his mother made for him, it was just a costume that he had yet to grow into. A fantasy that people laughed at him for wanting and he’d won it all the same.

So why was he so compelled to feel the intense emotional upheaval of loss? Graham placed his palms on the back of the inhuman, uneven teeth before him and felt not alarm but a thrill that was so rare these days. It was less that he was so close to danger that he was so close to a dangerous friend. Not to little King Graham because the bridge troll knew that Graham had never started as a king or a knight. Just a hopeful adventurer that might have been nothing but a mouthful had things gone differently.

“Goosie?” Olfie said, the worry evident in his voice.

The adventurer’s arm popped out of the corner of Olfie’s mouth. “Can you hang this up on your tusk? Like a trophy?” In that outstretched arm was the crown of Daventry.

/ / / / / / / / /

I apologize for not having art of these two so I stole this screenshot of good boy graham and the giant hunky bridge troll Olfie they aren't owned by me but I think about their friendships and copulation A LOT.

Hi, it's me and I needed to very quickly get this little scene out of my head and out here in the open because these two are cute together and I was very disappointed there wasn't an appropriate game over in the first chapter. This is also one of my favorite games so if you need something that will knock anything Telltale Games has ever done and deserves your cash try out King's Quest.

As for an update on my activities, I'm still working at my horse job full time and tackling writing projects that are not horny (also imposter syndrome is a freaky ugly thing that I am going to therapy for and my will to live have strengthened into an even greater will to write things that inspire erections as well as other FEELINGS ). Recently there has been movement on a tabletop roleplaying game that is based on one of my favorite book series and it's surreal just casually chatting with an author you admire about their setting and characters between emails. I hope everyone is doing okay and if I can ride this short, lighthearted scene up with a longer followup of happy fun vore instead of the hard boiled Toothpick that I still have some scenes to explore.

I wanna get a visual novel going but whoa people reading things I write is scary better just thank all of you for just being here I appreciate it. These are trying times but not trying enough that we can't treasure the things that give us comfort and joy.", "writing": "", "writing_bbcode_parsed": "", "pools_count": 0, "title": "King's Quest for Consumption", "deleted": "f", "public": "t", "mimetype": "image/jpeg", "pagecount": "1", "rating_id": "2", "rating_name": "Adult", "ratings": [ { "content_tag_id": "4", "name": "Sexual Themes", "description": "Erotic imagery, sexual activity or arousal", "rating_id": "2" } ], "submission_type_id": "1", "type_name": "Picture/Pinup", "guest_block": "t", "friends_only": "f", "comments_count": "0", "views": "111" }