"Artemis & Morpheus" - fifty shades of black

Over the years at the bars and bath houses, cafe´s and chat rooms, I have met hundreds of people with different likes and dislikes, fetishes and obsessions. But the oddest one I ever encountered had me running to the library and search online, seeing what this was about and how extensive this fetish was, with its own chat rooms and bulletin boards (an old form of messaging online). They were a culture unto themselves.

Vorarephilia is the fetish desire to be consumed or eaten by another person, preferably in one bite. They actually want to be whole inside the belly. A unique form of idealized cannibalism in which you are taken over by another person.

This story was written to please one man and let him fulfill his fantasy and live out his dream.

Joseph was a sweet little furry man. From the photos he sent me to my email, he looked to be about 4'-11" tall. A little bigger than a Hobbit, who are only 3-4' tall themselves.
He had this obsession since childhood when his Father and Mother divorced and he and his siblings stayed with his Mother. He dreamt about being consumed by his Father so he could be with him again.
As an adult, he became aroused by Gainers, people who deliberately want to gain weight and be fat. The obese ball-belly mimicked a pregnant woman's tummy and he would fantasize he would be consumed by that individual and live out the rest of his life in someone's gut.
At the time when we chatted with each other, I was into a Gainer fetish and had ballooned up to 265# (120 kg) with a BMI ( body mass index) of 34. The extra weight gave me a feeling of being more masculine and powerful looking which complimented my SMBD role-playing at the time.

Joseph is still stockpiling his collection of dream outlines and paintings for his own world of Vorarephilia and looks even more now like a creature from Tolkien's imagination. As the title of my story suggests, you are back into the ancient world of Centaurs and Satyr's, listening to the lamentations and odes to excesses of philosophers, scholars and dreamers.

.....

Artemis & Morpheus

by Bronson D. Smith

©2005

    Morpheus stood at the edge of the playing field. He watched the young men in their warm up exercises. There were twelve of them. Naked. Long and lean. Some had started developing a fine fur pelt on their chest and belly. One man caught Morpheus’ eye. He had an even layer of a peach fuzz on his face and reddish fuzz on his belly and a treasure trail that lead down to his pendulous member.
    Morpheus turned to his buddy, Haemus, a centaur, “Looks like that boy should have been one of your kind, Haemus.”
    Haemus stamped the ground  with his front legs.
“We are born this way, Morpheus. We cannot change our destiny. Like you.”
    Morpheus looked down at his furry chest and belly. His own treasure trail led down to a heavy set of balls and a member with fur-covered foreskin. And instead of four horse-like legs like Haemus, Morpheus stood on two goat legs with large cloven hooves. His tail swished back and forth as if it had a mind of its own.
    “At least if I want to play with my balls, I can,” Morpheus laughed loudly.

    Morpheus was one of King Daemon’s principle Satyrs. He was in charge of conditioning the men for service to the King and kingdom. They entered his training camp once they turned twenty. Some were destined for glory on land. Sacrificing their lives on the sea. And special ones were corralled by Morpheus for his use.
    The man, who was the interest of this agent of the King, was focused on the discus throw. His oiled body glistened in the sun.  He held the discus and swung around and let go with a powerful throw. The best of the twelve.
    “He is mine,” Morpheus whispered under his breath.
Haemus’ ears perked up. He knew that when Morpheus made up his mind, it would not change. He would not flinch. The man was his.

    Artemis looked very pleased with his showing on the playing field today. He had a competitive spirit that helped guide the other men. His brother had graduated from Morpheus’ camp to become an honour guard for the King. And his eldest brother, Lanctis, had died heroically on the battlefield.
    He had just finished drying off and put on his robes and sandals. Artemis looked up to see the midsection of Morpheus. The mystical line that blended man with animal, myth to magic, lust to love, the present to the future.
    Artemis kneeled in the presence of  his trainer.  With his head bowed, “Hello, Sir. Are you pleased with my progress?”
    “You seemed pleased with yourself. Kinda cocky.”
    “Oh no, sir. Just trying to show the others how to accept the responsibility of success.”
    “You were being cocky, boy.”
    “Yes, sir.”
Morpheus held the man’s head  in his right hand and played with his hair.
    “I like a cocky boy. Something for me to work on.”
Artemis’ eyes widened.
    “Am I going to be part of your team, sir? That would make my family proud.”
    ‘Oh yes, boy. You are on my team.”

.....

    Artemis said goodbye to his family and moved his meager belongings to the lodge just beside the fountain to Zeus. He was one of three men living in the lodge with Morpheus. The sleeping area was in the middle, exposed to the sky and night air. a cool breeze drifted over the sleeping bodies.
    Morpheus looked down on his protege. “You are mine,” he smiled to himself. He stroked his belly and chest. He scratched the furry unkept beard on his face.
    “Gonna have to make that boy grow a beard. A real one.”
Artemis, Yolandes, and Flavius sat at the dinner table. The cook brought in a slaughter of meat and root vegetables and two naked men brought in a tray with large vessels of wine. Within a short time, all three were covered in food, spilled wine and full of spirit and simple amazement.
    ‘My parents thought I was fooling them when I told them I was chosen to be here.,” Yolandes said.
    “I thought I had been visited by the gods when I heard. And I still find it hard to believe.” Flavius chuckled as he raised a glass to their absent host. “Me, Flavius the meek, here.”

    Artemis and the others left the dining area and retired to their sleeping quarters. An hour later, they were woken up and led back to the dining table. It was as if they had never left. The table was piled high with food and drink. The cook and the two naked men were standing at the side as before.
    A strong booming voice sounded from behind them. It was Morpheus.
    “Eat. Now.”
    Artemis, looked at his trainer. He smiled. He had always admired the power and unique creations of the gods. The Centaurs. The Satyrs. The Nymphs. They had a separate set of rules to live by and were not governed by the hazard of mortality.
    “Oh, to be immortal.” he whispered to himself.

    Another dinner had been finished off and the cook and the two naked men led Yolandes and Flavius off to another room. Artemis sat alone at the table. A noise in the corner startled him.
    “I’m sorry, Artemis. I don’t want to upset your meal.” Morpheus spoke softly as he carried in another vessel of wine and two new drinking cups.
He sat down across from Artemis at the table. His hooves tapped lightly on the mosaic floor and he adjusted his seating for his furry goat bottom and tail to be comfortable.
    Artemis graciously took the first cup offered by Morpheus and took a deep long drink to mimic his host. He was not much of a drinker, but felt he had to prove his worth by matching the actions of his host and trainer.
    “Here, have another, I won’t tell,” Morpheus said as he poured another cup of wine for Artemis to drink.

.....

    Artemis woke, the next day, in the sleeping quarters all alone. The two other beds beside his were still well made, as if never slept in. He shook his head and felt no ill effects. This must be a better quality wine than the ones he drank with his buddies and at family gatherings. He absently started to stroke his belly and noticed his peach fuzz fur had darkened and become coarser. His pecs were still firm but rounder and the sparse hair around each nipple had increased and darkened as well.
    He joined the others in the playing field. They were still long and lean and agile like gazelles. He was a little more sluggish than usual. And felt he had gained weight for each run around the track. At the end of the race in which he came second and then third. He stood by a pool of water and caught a glimpse of his reflection.
    “What has happened to me?”

.....

    At that evening’s dinner , even thought Artemis dined alone, the cook and the two naked men brought in the same amount of food and drink.
    “Eat. Now.” was all that was said by Morpheus from the back of the room.
    It took longer to accomplish the task, but Artemis consumed the contents of the dinner and two large vessels of wine.
    The two naked men led him to his bed and Artemis collapsed in a heap. He was awoken two hours later and led to the dining table again.
    “But I can’t keep eating like this. I can only take so much.”
He looked around and the cook and the two naked men had disappeared. He was alone.

    Slowly, he began to consume the food in front of him. He washed it down with the wine in front of him. With each cup, he became more and more aggressive in his eating. This wine would not make him ill of head the next day, so he chose to indulge in his lust for the wine and the food. By the time Artemis had finished devouring the dinner set before him, he was covered in food and drink. Bits of meat on his legs, gravy on his forehead and cheeks. The blood-red wine dripped from his lips.

    “Good boy.”
    Artemis looked around. He saw no one. But he thought it was Morpheus’ voice.
    “Good boy.”

    The voice came from a different direction this time. The voice was like on the wind. Or maybe, goat’s feet.
    Artemis listened carefully, and heard the quiet tapping of the hooves on the mosaic floor. He turned to the noise behind him.

    “Good boy.” Morpheus said, smiling through his rag tag beard. He stroked his belly and played with his chest. Artemis followed the actions of his host, his trainer, his muse. And Morpheus watched the eyes of his chosen one carefully. He was ready for the next stage. It was time.
    “Sit still, boy,” Morpheus said, as he sat down on the bench. “We will start dinner soon.”
    “But I just finished a meal for three men. I need to rest. sir.”
    “Then we will sit and drink to your good health.” smiled Morpheus. He patted his ample belly and then by instinct, Artemis patted his own. In a matter of days, no hours, his belly had grown to that of a mature man. Covered with thick dark fur. Artemis rubbed his face in amazement to find it covered with what seemed a year’s growth of beard.
    “Do you have a glass I can see myself in. These changes. I have to see.”
    Morpheus motioned to the air and one of the naked men came into the room carrying a viewing glass, a mirror fashioned by an Egyptian friend.

    Artemis grew scared and confused but aroused at the sight he saw in the mirror.
When he left his family’s homes, he was a fair-haired boy of twenty, with light dusting of fur on his face, chest and belly. The vision in the mirror was dark haired,  with a full furry belly and chest and a manly beard. The image of a man he had dreamed of becoming after hearing the stories of his heroic brothers. He never thought he would become one of the men he lusted after.

    Morpheus took Artemis by his hand and led him to the playing field. The night sky was alight with twinkling stars and memorials to those favoured by the gods.
He lay the boy facing down on the grass, having him aligned to the north.
    The two naked men who had helped feed Artemis revealed themselves to be nymphs and the cook was the god Dionysis, a close friend of Morpheus.
    “You chose well, Morpheus. He has a lust for life like you. And is kind of spirit.”
    The two male nymphs spoke in unison. “ We heard him tell stories of how he envied us and longed for immortality.”
    Both Dionysis and Morpheus laughed heartily.

    The two male nymphs helped lay Morpheus on top of Artemis. With a gentle motion, Morpheus started to rock back and forth as he tried to enter his protege. His tail twitching and hooves pawing the ground. He found entry and let all of his weight rest on the man beneath him.
    The nymphs brought out gossamer sheets that they wrapped Morpheus and Artemis with. It was like a big cocoon. As if it had fallen off a tree limb, hoping to still turn into a butterfly.

Dionysis and the nymphs left their handiwork and returned to the lodge.

    Artemis dreamed of all the storied he shared with his brothers and family. Of the desires of adulthood and the fantasies of the world of the Satyrs and Centaurs. As a child, he had claimed to have caught a goblin in his night lantern , but could never find the proof. He sat in awe while seeing the stars described as former lovers and heroes of the gods. To be immortal and adrift in the sky. To be ageless. To dream forever.

    The morning light illuminated the gossamer shape on the playing field. He rose slowly and kept the material wrapped around his body. He raised his eyes to the morning and thanked Zeus for this morning and to Apollo for his cleansing light of day.
    The material fell onto the grass. Morpheus stood alone. His thick sturdy goat legs held his enormous girth upright. His barrel chest heaved upward and belly was stretched  tight. His arms were fat and soft. His face was full and slightly flushed.  He rubbed his belly and then played with his heavy balls and his pendulous member.
    “Good boy”

    Artemis smiled.

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