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How Not To Become Lunch: 76 - Don’t Be The Jackpot
“I’m… I’m not dead!” Harry muttered again, louder this time. Somehow both more confident and more incredulous. He wiped a load of drool off his face, watching it drip off his arm, and felt immeasurably thankful and relieved that it was only drool, and not the flesh-melting, bone-softening cocktail swirling inside the panda’s stomach. “Oh man,” he continued to mutter.
“Just breathe,” Jack advised from the other side of Brutus, coming down from his own fear.
“I… I really thought… oh, but I’m alive. I’m not dead, I’m not digesting. It’s not my time. It’s not my time,” he blabbered quietly, trying to take his friend’s advice and not asphyxiate.
“Perhaps not, but it is your turn,” came a new voice. Looking up as his tunnel vision faded, he caught sight of Mr. Belv. The butler had his eyes set on him intently, gesturing with a hand toward the bottle which he’d placed back into the center of the circle.
“Oh, um, right.” He came back to reality, noticing all the eyes on him. His near-digestion experience aside, they were still in the middle of a game, and he was up next. His legs were a bit shaky, but after two or three tries he managed to stand.
“Good luck,” Jack offered. Fiona, in the same vein, offered one of her least threatening, least toothy smiles.
Harry forced out a smile in return as he left, then glanced around at the crowd surrounding him as he walked toward the middle. He had preds on all sides, but they were relatively few. He hesitated for a moment, realizing he did still have a definite chance of his spin landing on one of them, maybe even back on Petal, but he took some comfort in the numbers. He had already beaten the long odds, walking away from that panda’s maw with his life; compared to that, this was almost safe.
He reached down and gave the bottle a spin.
…No way…
The boy stared through his spectacles for a moment and blinked in disbelief. Fresh off the heels of being treated like a discarded lollipop and now this? There was no way his luck could be that… easily turned around! The person the bottle had chosen, whom he was now accidentally, awkwardly staring at, was a girl. A human girl. And she was cute!
The girl looked up. They made eye contact and she quickly glanced away, trying to hide a little smile. Harry smiled too; a nervous kind of smile, but a happy one. He walked toward her in the exact opposite manner from how he’d been approached: quiet and meek and small, yet fairly hopeful. She looked up again when he stopped in front of her, blinking a few extra times as she forced herself to keep eye contact despite the grin she was failing to hide.
Does she… like me? the boy thought, hopefully.
The girl’s expression shifted, corners of her mouth turned down, nose wrinkling. Harry felt utterly crestfallen for a split second, until the drop of panda drool dripped from his nose and he realized what she’d been reacting to.
Oh, duh, I wouldn’t want to kiss that either!
With no towel to hand, Harry did the only thing he could and pulled up the bottom of his shirt, wiping his face as dry as he could in a hasty effort to regain that smile. He heard her giggle while he was blinded and quickly looked back to see he’d succeeded.
“So…” his voice came out surprisingly quiet. “Um, may I?”
“Oh, sure,” she replied at a similar volume.
As she turned her cheek to him, she flashed him a side-eyed look with a smirk that made his heart skip a beat- in a completely different way than a minute ago. He bent over and leaned in and…
*smooch*
Her cheeks turned red. He was pretty sure his did too. He pulled away somewhat giddy as the two of them made eye contact again from the corners of their respective visions, not quite able to look at each other full on.
“Um, thanks,” he muttered.
“Yeah, you too,” she replied just as meekly.
Running on autopilot for a moment with his head in a bit of a swirl, Harry turned and walked back to his seat, glowing like a dragon’s gullet.
“D-did you see that?” he asked Jack as he sat back down. “I survived a panda attack and I got to kiss a pretty girl!” he said in hushed wonder. “I- I think she might even like me!”
“I’m happy for you, man,” Jack replied with a smile, but another thought hit him and it quickly shrunk. He considered his next words, choosing his tone carefully. “Just… take my advice… before you fall for her too hard… wait to see if she survives the party.”
“Yeah, fair point, I guess. But, I mean, she’s survived this long, right? What could-”
*eep*
Harry turned to look back toward the center of the circle. His new crush had gotten up for her turn and spun the bottle, and it had landed on a predator.
Fiona’s tail started wagging behind her, beating a faint rhythm against the floor. Harry’s giddy smile faltered, and then faded, as he saw the way the werewolf stared hungrily at the girl timidly approaching.
“Um, Fiona?” he asked, nervous and meek. “You’re, um, not gonna-”
*glorsh*
Her belly rumbled so loudly that Harry could hear it clearly three seats over. The sound seemed to interfere with his mouth- or his brain- because his words abruptly stopped. She glanced over at him and gave him an apologetic smile and a little shrug, but the messaging wasn’t exactly clear. It could have been “sorry, I didn’t mean that,” but it just as easily could have been “sorry, a girl’s gotta eat”.
Crossing fingers on both hands, the human girl closed her eyes, made a pucker out of her fearful expression, and leaned over. Harry’s heart sank as he watched Fiona lick the length of her muzzle, and his whole body tensed as he watched her jaws open, pointed teeth dripping in anticipation.
*sluuuuuurp*
The werewolf drenched another face in drool- more than you would think could come off of a tongue.
“Mmm!” went the predator approvingly. She turned to Harry and gave a very favorable nod. “You’ve got good taste!”
“…Phew! I thought you were gonna eat her…” the spectacled boy breathed in relief.
“Well, only if she was really good,” Fiona replied. She quickly turned back to the girl with fresh wolf drool in her hair. “No offense. Don’t get me wrong, you’re pretty tasty, but you’re not the best one here.”
“N-none taken,” the girl muttered back, taking the opportunity to quickly turn and rush back to her seat.
“Well, guess it’s my turn again.”
The werewolf stood and approached the bottle for a second time, tail swishing happily as she bent over to give it another spin. Round and round and round it went, slowing and slowing, until-
“Yes! I haven’t tasted you yet!” Her tail doubled its tempo, and she gave a toothy, hunger-fueled grin, eager enough to melt the security of just about any human in the room. Particularly, it seemed, the one she was grinning at.
“Wait, no!” The boy instinctively fell back and began to scramble away in fear.
It was her own fault, she scolded herself momentarily: this was the reason good preds were taught to keep their cool; such obvious, enthusiastic desire to stuff someone into your belly was bound to send them running for the hills. Thankfully, though, there were three things working in Fiona’s favor: she was standing up, her prey was sitting down, and the two of them were just within pouncing distance.
*Rrruff*!
Her instincts definitely getting the best of her, the moment she saw her prey starting to get away she let out a bark and full-on leapt, body long, claws outstretched, all the way over to the human boy currently clambering away on hands and knees. She landed on his back, fingers wrapping around his shoulders, tearing little holes in his shirt. She saw his head turn back to get a look at her, caught a glimpse of his frightened face and just-
*NOMF*!
Almost before she knew it, Fiona felt the boy’s head in her throat. Not just in her mouth, but clear down into her gullet.
*gurgle*! went her stomach, eager and impatient and hungry, pressed up against the back of her squirming prey.
The werewolf froze up, her tail going stiff while her ears drooped. W-what had she just done!? She didn’t want to eat this guy! She’d only wanted to taste him! And even if she had wanted to eat him, this position was all wrong! She’d never get him down like this! Oh, this was so embarrassing!
…*urrelch*
With a somewhat reluctant contraction of her neck, Fiona half retched, half-yanked the boy out of her digestive tract, coated all the way down to his shoulders in a thick, frankly impressive layer of drool.
“Uh, sorry, got a little excited there,” she muttered, quietly enough that she hoped only the boy (and Sarabeth) heard.
She literally backed off of him, then stood up straight again. For the first time, she noticed the boy’s taste soaking into her tongue and smacked her lips as it caught her attention.
“H-Hey, what shampoo do you use?” she asked without really thinking, only realizing how awkward a conversation she’d just broached after she opened her mouth.
The boy, barely pushing himself off the ground on shaky limbs, with that flat, rumbling tummy still standing between him and his seat, felt somewhat compelled to answer.
“U-um, V-Viande Rouge.” He looked at his predator, alarmed and confused and dripping. She felt like she had to say something back. She’d made him tell her. Should she explain herself?
“It’s, uh, not bad. It makes you taste almost like a redhead.” Nope, that only made it worse. Ugh, this was why her mouth was better suited for eating prey, not making conversation with them. “I mean, uh- nevermind.”
She turned away quickly, fur bristling hard as she caught sight of all the eyes on her from the circle of guests. She ran a few nervous claws through her coat as inconspicuously as she could, while quickly trotting back to her seat, where she could hopefully blend back into the crowd.
“Um, sorry you had to see that,” she said quietly to her friends when she returned. As she saw Jack’s face, the thought crossed her mind that she’d once again let her instincts get the better of her around him. Even if said instincts weren’t directed anywhere vaguely near him or any of his friends, the fact still made her uncomfortable. “I, um, guess tasting all these humans is really starting to work up my appetite,” she justified.
*gurg*
Sarabeth opened her mouth to reply, but Jack beat her to it.
“I bet,” the boy said with an understanding little smile, putting a hand up on her furry shoulder as she sat down.
The way he reached out to her so readily, literally reaching out to her, calm and confident and supportive, even while she was questioning herself. Not a hint of hesitance. It helped put a smile back on her face. He had so much trust in her… it helped her feel like she could trust herself too, like she could live up to it.
“Think it’s time to pick your dinner?” he asked.
*glorp*
“Yeah, probably a good idea,” she agreed.
Oh! You’ll be someone’s dinner tonight, even if I have to choke you down myself! Sarabeth thought in well-masked jealous rage. How dare he steal her moment to comfort Fiona!?
“Sarabeth?”
The vampire looked over at Fiona with a start, worried for a moment that the werewolf had somehow heard her thoughts, but it seemed she only had a question.
*ahem* “Yes?”
“Did you see where that one guy went? With the blue top?”
Sarabeth glanced around and saw no one of such description. “I have not. But perhaps I could make an inquiry?” She waved her butler over to whisper in his ear.
Suddenly: “Ew! Fiona!” On the opposite end of the vocal spectrum, Lily complained loudly, drawing most eyes. She had her hands clasped tight around a human, scowling at him in disgust. “You got your drool all over this one! I can’t eat him now!” She shoved him away.
“B-but I didn’t kiss you yet.”
“Yeah, and you’re not gonna,” the frog girl replied.
Sarabeth whispered something extra in Mr. Belv’s ear.
“Now, now, Ms. Padders,” the butler addressed. “The rules must be followed by all if we are to have a fair game.”
Lily’s scowl deepened. She glanced from the mage to the nervous, drool-soaked kid, and then angrily off toward nothing.
“Fine,” she grumbled.
The boy crept nervously back over to her, checking after almost every step to make sure she wasn’t about to change her mind. When he got close enough, he leaned in reluctantly and puckered his lips.
*splat*
“Yuck!!” The frog girl exclaimed.
The poor kid had done his best to wipe the drool from his face, but he still had an oasis of the stuff soaked into his hair, a glob of which just happened to drip towards his lips just as he was moving in for the smooch.
Luckily, Lily was too busy swiping her hands frantically over her cheek to shove him away again, so he took the opportunity to make himself scarce, darting off back toward his seat. Several kids in the crowd laughed quietly amongst themselves. The embarrassed pred just happened to catch sight of one of them- some human chick- and stood up indignantly.
“Oh, you better hope this bottle doesn’t land on you,” she threatened with a glare. The girl stopped laughing. The hungry amphibian stomped over to the middle of the circle and gave the bit of glass a furious spin. “Someone’s ending up in my gut,” she grumbled to herself, imagining the satisfaction of those familiar, bloated squirms. She’d show them for laughing at her!
The bottle came to a stop. Lily’s burning eyes turned and fell on-
Oh no, Jack thought, tensing up instinctively- as just about any human would under such a glare.
The angry amphibian’s expression shifted; like a fresh, crackling fire settling down into a steady, incandescent smolder. Her eyes narrowed, her head lowered, her expression scrunched and twisted into an intensely displeased scowl. And she started walking toward him.
The boy said nothing, feeling somehow that any sound he made would only sour the frog’s mood further. His heart started pounding just a bit harder, even as he tried to reason himself into some level of calm.
She’s Fiona’s friend. She’s not gonna try to eat me, right? But she had tried. More than once. And he’d never seen her angry like this before. He felt the urge to glance to Fiona, either for comfort or for some sense of exactly how much danger he was in- she knew the frog girl much better than he did, so her reaction would tell him how worried he should be. But he couldn’t actually bring himself to look away from the approaching predator, not when he knew her tongue could dart out and meld over his head before he had a chance to look back.
For what it was worth, Fiona’s ears were drooping nervously.
The web-footed teen stomped over with her wordless, indignant fury. Jack did his best to avoid cowering backwards as she tramped right up, pressing her unblinking glare directly into his face, her eyes drilling into his and making his stomach turn as he feared hers.
He finally winced, squeezing his eyes shut and turning away as the green face eclipsed his view. He resisted the practiced urge to grab for his wand.
*smooch*
*gurgle*!
Jack felt clammy lips very briefly graze his cheek, and heard the rumbling of a nearby belly. His eyes snapped open again.
Lily now had her eyes squeezed shut, her lips pulled in tight and pressed together hard, like she was sucking on the world’s most sour treat- or holding herself back from the world’s most delicious meal. Though she could just as easily have been reacting to being forced to kiss a human when she’d much rather have scarfed one down. The amphibian opened her eyes after a moment and glanced over to Fiona.
“You’re welcome,” she grumbled.
“You’re the best, Lil,” the werewolf replied awkwardly with a little smile and a hint of relief.
“Yeah, um, thanks,” Jack said, clearing the frog from his throat.
The frog girl turned her still-glaring-gaze back to the marked human for a moment- a begrudging acceptance of his gratitude- before turning off in a huff and stomping back to her seat again, grumbling to herself.
“Kissing a marked human, ugh, seriously. You’re lucky I’m nice, Fi, or he’d be a squirming lump right about now,” she muttered, too quiet for anyone to hear.
He WOULD be a squirming lump if you were a real predator! Sarabeth thought in concealed fury, very much hearing everything. She took a quiet breath, begrudgingly reeling herself in. I suppose I cannot hang blame on her for keeping her allegiances. Fiona is a fine friend, after all …Curses! How is it that with FIVE other predators in attendance I haven’t managed to maneuver that boy into a stomach!?
The vampire watched with a well-disguised glare as Jack stood up and nervously approached the bottle.
He can’t hold out forever. Sooner or later that boy WILL be digested, even if I have to do it myself! I refuse to allow this meal to steal Fiona away.
Jack gave the bottle a spin.
All that needs to happen is for Jack to be paired up with another predator, Sarabeth told herself, watching the dancing glass. The panda, perhaps even Lily again- a second encounter might send that graceless frog over her proverbial edge. You’ve managed to avoid the odds thus far, Jack, but a second kiss from a predator would be an impossibility. This bottle will seal your fate.
It slowed down. And Sarabeth’s eyes began to widen. And so did Jack’s. …And so did Fiona’s.
No… the vampire thought. Time itself seemed to falter as she watched the bottle, just a moment or two from settling to a stop. It was pointing very nearly in her direction. The idea of being forced to kiss that boy herself was almost too much for her to bear, but the reality of the situation was far worse. Because the bottle wasn’t about to point at her, it was about to point next to her. It was settling on Fiona.
A storm of jealous fury and dread rose up in Sarabeth, not quite like any she’d experienced before. If the two of them were to be paired, Fiona would surely not make an attempt on his life. The two of them would kiss. JACK would kiss her Fiona! He would steal HER kiss! She saw the boy and the werewolf meet eyes as the last of the bottle’s momentum waned; wordless, startling emotion passing between them as they realized what was about to happen.
Sarabeth was on her feet. She almost wasn’t sure how. It was perhaps the most impulsively she’d ever moved. In a fraction of a blink, head swirling with emotion, she wrenched her composure back into place and began to voice the first cover story she could conjure.
“W-well now, I do believe this game is getting a bit tired. Perhaps-” an approaching sound caught her ear “-perhaps we can make this round a bit more interesting.” She walked up to Jack- possibly a tad too quickly- and plucked the bottle up off the floor, unable to stand having it pointing at Fiona for another moment, lest someone comment on it. Then she glanced over at the approaching footsteps she’d heard.
Perfect, the vampire thought.
“I see you’ve brought us something, Mr. Belv,” she called, composure fully restored.
The mage butler walked into the circle of seated teens. He was holding something in his hand, a glass jar with a lid, and there was something moving inside.
“As you requested,” he replied. “I’m sorry to say this guest was rather insistent on trying to slip away unnoticed.”
He held the jar up for her inspection, and she put her face up to the glass. Inside, a tiny, shrunken human cowered on hands and knees, trembling as he stared at the enormous, looming face of the predator which now eclipsed his vision.
“Well, how rude. Deserting us before the evening is up, without even so much as a farewell? Well, perhaps you can make it up to us. You can serve as a deserter dessert.” She smirked at her own wordplay, flashing her fangs at the tiny boy in the jar.
Jack, still standing awkwardly with them, saw the poor kid’s reaction, scrambling away toward the far wall, tiny chest heaving, clutching his own arms through his blue shirt as if he could somehow hold himself away from her.
As if predators aren’t already terrifying enough at normal size, he thought uncomfortably, gulping nervously as he imagined what it might be like. The sound seemed to remind Sarabeth of his presence; she turned to him.
“You can go,” she said dismissively.
“R-right,” he replied. He turned to walk off but then faltered and added, “Um, thanks.” He was still processing the tidal wave of emotions that had struck him, but it was obvious that she had jumped up to save them when his bottle spin had landed on Fiona. He started back toward his seat, looking toward his lupine friend again. She was looking at him too, with a vaguely tense expression that probably mirrored his own.
Kissing Fi…? The idea brought on a whirlwind of several intense emotions. Anxiety, confusion, primal fear, this odd warmth in his soul, maybe even some… excitement? Was she feeling like that too? He did his best to keep his head on straight as he sat down next to her again.
“That was… close,” Fiona said awkwardly with a semi-forced smile. The claws on her toes flexed nervously.
“Yeah… It’s a good thing she stepped in, right?”
“Um… yeah… I mean, that could have been-”
*guuuurgle*
A long, hungry rumble from her belly interrupted her. Jack glanced down in mild alarm. He’d nearly forgotten in the moment, but she was pretty hungry right now, wasn’t she? If she had gotten a taste of him… would it have ended up like the last party they’d gone to? Or worse?
“Oh, yeah, that would have been bad,” he muttered back. Something in her expression changed, like maybe there was something else on her mind, but he disregarded it. Surely she was just concerned for his safety, like the great friend she was, and all these weird emotions were just his; some annoying personal thing he was dealing with.
“So, um, there’s a shrunken human in that jar?” she asked- offering an obvious question to shift the subject.
“Yeah, um, some kid who tried to sneak out early.” He saw her expression shift again, and this time her ears perked up like she’d noticed something.
“Mr. Belv. Would you be so kind as to place that here?” Sarabeth requested, gesturing. Fiona’s eyes followed the jar down as it was placed sideways on the floor where the bottle had been previously. “For the next round,” the vampire announced, “whomever is selected by the spin will get to keep the prize inside.”
*glurg*!
“That’s not just any human,” Fiona muttered, tone now completely changed. “That’s the human. That kid was my top pick!” Her eyes were locked onto the jar, like- well like a hungry wolf. She flicked her tongue quickly across her muzzle to clear a touch of mounting drool.
“You mean the one you want for dinner?” Jack asked. Fiona’s unwavering focus and lack of response was all the answer he needed.
Sarabeth, having turned to walk back to her seat, nearly stumbled when she overheard.
Wait, Fiona had been asking after that boy as a MEAL!? the vampire realized. I could have simply given the boy to her and won her favor! Instead I’ve more than likely just handed off her chosen dinner to someone else! She cursed inwardly and continued to scold herself as she retook her seat, resisting the urge to grind her fangs. Perhaps I still can… She considered somehow getting her butler to fix the game, but it was all too late now. She was already seated, and he was already reaching down to start the round. She would just need to trust in her good fortune.
The mage spun the jar, sending the very unfortunate boy inside tumbling about. All eyes, with expressions from eagerness to sympathy, watched as the uneven, shifting weight within disrupted the revolving vessel, slowing it quickly as it skidded against the floor. The pointer that was the lid sailed past human and predator, again and again, until it began to settle.
Yes… yes… Sarabeth thought as it inched toward her. Drat!! Blood, fire and curses!!
Fiona leaned forward as the jar’s top passed from the vampire on to herself, flexing eagerly every claw from hand to toe. But it didn’t stop on her either. Just as it seemed about to halt, the boy inside knocked his glass prison ever so slightly, sending it over just a touch further, so it was pointing directly at-
JACK!!? Sarabeth could no longer resist grinding her fangs just a bit.
“What!? He gets him!?” Lily complained. “He’s not even a pred!” For once, the vampire and the frog couldn’t have been much more in agreement.
“Lady Sarabeth’s rules,” Mr. Belv responded. He picked up the vessel containing the now very dizzy boy and walked it over to the round’s winner.
Jack reflexively leaned back as the butler approached with his ‘prize’, very much uncomfortable at the thought of possessing another human, especially a shrunken one. Shrunken meant bitten by a vampire, and that meant marked.
Mr. Belv, correctly predicting that Jack wouldn’t reach out and take it, placed the jar firmly in the boy’s lap. And suddenly all eyes were on him. Hungry, jealous predators; uncomfortable, disapproving and fearful humans; and the tiny, marked kid sitting inside, staring up at his new ‘owner’ with terrified eyes.
Nope! Nope-nope-nope-nope! Jack thought, balking at the entire situation. He looked around frantically like he’d just been given a hot potato he very much wanted to pass.
His eyes, naturally, fell on Fiona. Her gaze struck him more deeply than anyone else, lodging into him like a harpoon. She wasn’t even looking directly at him, she was looking at the tiny in his lap, but she had an expression on her face that he’d only seen her wearing once before: the last time anyone had ever seen a girl named Ruby. She was very hungry, and Jack was very near, and she was very much holding herself back.
“You know,” Jack muttered, his throat a bit tight. “I think you might like this more than me,” he said, gesturing toward the jar in his lap, almost unwilling to even touch it. Fiona’s eyes flicked up to his, her strained expression lighting up with excitement.
“You mean it!?” she asked like an excited pup. Jack nodded very emphatically, as if saying ‘why in the world would I want to keep this’ or perhaps just ‘please take this thing away from me’.
The werewolf did not waste another second. Her claws darted out and snatched the jar away in a blur, tearing the lid half off before he could even blink. It came off fully somewhere between Jack’s lap and the space above her head, where she held the newly opened vessel up like the cherished prize that it was.
Then she licked her lips, swallowed once to clear the drool pooling in her maw, and parted her jaws.
Strands of saliva glinted in the flickering light, flexing with her breath as she bared her hungry gullet to the crowd, and more directly, to her prey. The poor boy in blue looked down through the glass at the shadowed, red abyss and shuddered in terror- more than he’d felt in all his life. But that was only a mild surprise compared to a moment later, when she hastily flicked the jar forward, turning it upside down.
Suddenly, the tiny boy found himself tumbling forward straight toward the sickening drop of her throat. He screamed, too quiet and shrill for most to hear, and reached out for anything- anything- he could find to stop his fall. His flailing hands and feet managed to miraculously find the tapered walls of the jar’s rim, and pushing with all his miniature might, he managed to halt himself just at the edge.
Jack winced sympathetically as he watched the boy ‘save’ himself, barely able to wedge his tiny body stuck at the mouth of the vessel, hanging perilously over the mouth of his predator. He could see Fiona’s breath fogging the inner walls of the jar as it wafted past her meal-to-be. And after another moment of feeling nothing but said breath on her tongue, he could see the werewolf realize that her dinner needed an extra hand, so she began to shake hers.
The terrified tiny stared down the glimmering, pulsing, red gullet gaping below him, with absolutely nothing standing between him and his fate but the strength of his shrunken limbs. He could feel the humid puffs of air from deep within washing over him as the drop of her throat ebbed and flowed. Her long tongue shifted and flexed hungrily along the base of her muzzle, eager for his touch, for his taste, for his everything.
And then the world started shaking, up and down in violent jerks. He felt himself slipping against the glass. The werewolf’s eager tongue rising up to claim him as she worked to jar him loose from his jar. He held on as long as he could, straining his limbs to their limits, until the condensation of her deathly breath around his hands finally proved too much, and he slipped free.
*splat*
The look Jack saw in Fiona’s eyes at that moment was both fairly familiar, and yet utterly foreign. The way her entire expression lit up, bursting to life with exhilaration at the contact of marked flesh against her taste buds. She snapped her maw shut like a mousetrap, sealing her meal inside as if to sever with her teeth any claim the outside world might have on her delectable morsel. Her ears perked higher, her already fluttering tail tripled briefly in speed, her toes curled, she trembled… and then everything relaxed.
Fiona felt the incomparable sensation of a marked meal crash into her tongue and burst out like a flood across the length of her muzzle, sending anticipatory ripples through her entire body, filling her veins with a rush of predatory pleasure.
She had an entire marked human inside her maw at once, a sensation she’d never before experienced. Her own catches were always full sized, slipping gradually over her tongue as she gulped them down, pressing out against her innards and filling her to the limits of her hungry, growing body. This meal was different; absent was the familiar pleasure of her gullet stretching and squeezing around her prey, but in its place, the entire gamut of marked human flavor was showering her all at the same moment. Every taste and texture from head to toe and hair to skin was hitting her palette in unison, practically setting her maw ablaze with pure predatory bliss. Drool welled up like a valley river in a rainstorm, rising to marinade her meal and draw out more and more of his immaculate flavor with each passing moment.
And all that was before she even moved him. Perhaps it was the lack of that much enjoyed filling sensation, but she found herself squishing her prey up against the ridged roof of her muzzle. He squirmed against her tongue, little flailing limbs tickling her sensitive senses, leaving streaks of fresh flavor in their wake. She let the tiny boy push himself off toward the side of her muzzle, feeling him slip around the edges, against her teeth, spreading the spectacular sensation of his presence to new parts of her maw, tantalizing tastebuds she didn’t even know she had.
She tossed him into one cheek when he got too far out of place, and felt his wriggles against her slick flesh like a burning warmth that radiated pleasure out into every nearby cell. She slipped him into her other cheek to spread the sensation around, leaving a rainbow of radiant rapture in his wake.
*gulp*
Building drool triggered instinctive reflexes, and a near mouthful of saliva plunged down into her greedy gullet, with a gulp so overzealous it nearly took her meal. She felt one of the boy’s tiny feet lodge in the back of her throat, pinning him deep in her maw as she followed the sensation of his lingering flavors down her neck and into her belly beyond. Even the light traces of food carried by her copious drool struck her stomach like a match on oil.
*gruuuuuug*! called her clenching gut.
The temptation, the urge, was strong now. She wanted to feel this meal inside her, squeezing down her throat, stewing in her belly. But she didn’t want it to leave her mouth yet either. She swelled her tongue, pressing the marked tiny firmly between masses of pink, slick muscle, sending another tidal wave of pleasure through her body as she wrung out even more of her meal’s delectable flavor. She did it again and again, sucking on her special dinner like a human candy. Drool continued to fill her muzzle, right up to its limit, and even then she continued to flex her tongue for another few precious moments, a trail or two of overflowing saliva leaking down her fur as she wholeheartedly savored her morsel.
And then she finally gave in, and she swallowed.
*grk*
The tiny boy slipped down into her gullet in a single gulp, pulled entirely into the inner workings of her body with naught but one flex and squelch of her throat. It felt like a glaring spotlight, or a star plucked right from the night sky, a blazing spot of burning predatory pleasure and satisfaction glowing bright within her chest, slipping down, down, down, down until-
*splat*
She couldn’t hear it, but she felt it. Like a magic touch deep within her belly, her meal’s marked flesh hit the hungry, wrinkled walls of her empty stomach, and every bit of fur on her body rose in a wave of giddy bliss.
*glorsh* her belly rumbled happily, pressing in around the newly claimed meal. The greedy cavern was used to much larger bits of food than this seemingly meager offering, so the tight squeeze was a bit overzealous, but it meant she could feel practically every detail of her tiny prey, surrounded on all sides by the flexing folds of her inner chamber, totally hers, the latest in a long line of delectable meals for the hungry werewolf.
*blorp* *gurg* … *BUUUURP*
It was a completely, unrestrainedly crude display, but it didn’t even occur to Fiona to care. The entirety of her focus was settled in her belly, except for the fraction which followed the burst of air back up her esophagus to wash her immaculate meal’s flavor back onto her tongue one last time. A perfect, utterly satisfying moment; just her and her dinner.
…Then Fiona’s eyes refocused. People were looking at her. Actually, just about everyone was looking at her. The jar her meal had arrived in lay a few feet away on the ground; she’d dropped it at some point, but she didn’t remember when. Her ears drooped back in embarrassment.
“Sorry,” she muttered, giving Sarabeth in particular an extra-apologetic glance, but the continuous, radiant warmth from the little ember in her gut made it hard for her to feel too bad about anything.
“So… I guess he was good, huh?” Jack asked. He wasn’t sure he could ever quite get used to seeing his friend devour her ‘food’ with such… enthusiasm, but it was clear as day just how happy it made her, and that was all he needed to feel happy for her. She turned to him, and seeing his friendly face, her giddy smile grew into a joyous grin.
“He was great! Thanks, Jack, you’re the best!” She leaned over and threw her arms around him in a cheery hug.
Jack blushed. He couldn’t help it. He just wasn’t expecting such a hearty showing of gratitude, that’s all.
*glorp*!
The marked boy felt the belly of his predatory friend rumble against him.
“Whoa,” Fiona pulled back, looking down at her midsection almost like it was something unfamiliar.
“What is it?” Jack asked with a hint of concern.
“I think… I think he’s starting to…” She put a hand to her gut. Jack stared down at the seemingly innocuous patch of flat fur that currently hid the boy she’d just eaten alive.
*gurgle* *glooorp* *blorp*
He watched her move her hand slowly across her belly. …Except she wasn’t moving her hand across her belly, her belly was moving her hand!
“He’s growing back,” Jack realized aloud.
“Yeah, I can feel him, he’s- whooooa…” Fiona seemed to lose control of her words as her previously flat midriff began to visibly swell. Her fur bristled again, eyes losing focus, as a brand-new sensation within her absorbed all her attention from the outside world.
The slow, gradual, blissful stretching of her gut. It seemed so… so deliberately perfect, that her meal would grow at just the right rate to rub and squelch against every fold of her stomach as it smoothly pulled her elastic belly taut. She’d certainly missed that full feeling in her throat when taking her prey, but this… this was something she could get used to.
*grlush* … *glorp* … *uurp* *sigh*
Over the course of about a minute, Jack- and everyone else for that matter- watched the werewolf’s belly bulge larger and larger, the contours and struggles of a freshly ingested meal becoming more and more defined. When the sensation finally became familiar enough for her fur to relax again and her composure to return, it was Sarabeth she turned to.
“Thanks for the vampire-style dinner, it was amazing. I don’t think I’d mind trying it again sometime if you don’t mind sharing.”
Even with all her raging frustration- and her bitter resentment at seeing that hug- seeing her fancied Fiona staring over at her with her big, blissful grin and that round squirming belly, it simply knocked the composure right out of the vampire girl’s head, and put butterflies in her tummy as a replacement.
“I- o-of course, I would be happy to,” Sarabeth replied.
Fiona grinned wider, leaning back on her hands. She was sitting next to her two best friends, with everyone having fun at a party, and a nice, squirming, marked meal in her gut. Life was good.