Hidden Passenger Pt 1
#1 of Hidden Passenger
A concept a friend came up with that I wanted to flesh out! Part 1 of 2!
"Wait wait wait!" Sally shouted, waving her arms in front of her in a vain attempt to stop the female wolf taur who had her by the scruff. "You just ate that tabby! What are you doing?" The taur closed her mouth, and the otter's panic paused for a moment.
"Well my trainer said I need to stop losing weight, so I need to try and eat more." The wolfess craned her neck around the mostly empty coffee shop, it's only other occupant the St. Bernard behind the counter on his phone. "Aaaaand you're the only one here. Shame, ever since that last otter I ate you guys make my stomachs crawl." With a shrug, her maw opened again, pink and cavernous.
Sally's panic restarted, trying to praise the wolfess's grip from her neck, even as her face was stuffed into the slick mouth. Saliva soaked her fur as the taur swallowed, consuming her shoulders with no trouble at all. She fought and kicked, but her naturally lithe form provided no resistance, peristalsis working her towards the first stomach steadily. Eventually, her face pressed into a chamber that was just as slick as her previous one, and she joined the feline in the taur's first gut.
It was tight, with barely any room to get comfortable, which would be an impossible task regardless. The wolfess's pitch black fur did a good job of blocking out the outside world, making her stomach nearly impossible to see in. Juices dripped from every wall, adding to the slowly rising puddle at the bottom. And throughout it all, a steady heartbeat of a living creature, the gut squeezing with each rush of new blood.
Sally struggled to right herself, but between the speed of her entry and the tabby's desire to stay as high as possible, she found herself on bottom. Air was pressed out of her lungs by the weight of the cat, the squeezing of the stomach walls around them not assisting. Sally had the assumption that this taur's first stomach wasn't designed to hold so many occupants, and she didn't like what probably came next.
On cue, her new world rumbled. From the outside there was a belch, and the walls encasing her and the tabby clenched tighter than before. A suction at the back of her head, and she was shoulder deep in a second passageway, much tighter than the first. Peristalsis was present here as well, the throat-like tunnel sucking her out of the taur's upper body. For a moment it felt like she hung suspended, all sides crushed with wet, slick force.
Until her head smashed into another chamber, this on much, much roomier than the first. She slid from the top, splashing into the taur's lower gut, cradled in juice and flesh like a hammock. This gut looked and felt the same, right down to having a second passenger. Sally did a double take, squinting in the dark to make sure what she was seeing was accurate.
"Hey there!" The male otter spoke, helping her sit up as best she could in the growling tummy. "Haven't seen another otter since I got down here, how'd she snag you?
"I uh, thought she was full, she'd just eaten..." Sally shuddered, realizing the gravity of her mistake.
"Yeah, I bet she's getting hungry out there, considering she loses whatever food makes it to her lower half." The unknown otter said, never losing his friendly tone.
"Wait, what?" Sally screamed as she looked into her second, and last, maw of her life, before it clamped down over her, encasing her in true darkness.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Patrick slurped up her feet, gulping down his kin, lovingly feeling her bulge travel into his gut. With a happy sigh he sprawled out, treating the taur's gut like the hammock it was, his own hanging between his legs. She was a fighter for sure, and although she hadn't seemed it, now his belly writhed and squirmed with all the might of a creature the same size as he was.
He watched his own fat jiggle with her attempted escape. A week in here with no exercise was really taking its toll on him. That was fine though, the oils his fur coat naturally produced were stronger than they should be, letting him relax in any predator's hostile stomach. He'd been in this situation before, and they always gave up and coughed him out when they realized he was eating all their nourishment.
The wolfess's belly swung as she made her way out of the shop, the upper one working on the tabby it had kept for itself. But unbeknownst to her, in the lower one, a full and satisfied otter rested, enjoying the swinging movement as the stomach futilely attempted to break down it's new arrival, as it had since he arrived.