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How had he wound up in the middle of this? First, he'd been devoured by Prince Fomo, then Lady Catherine had sent Frosty to settle a grievance with the same mouse, and now he found himself standing outside the room she was waiting in. Without the mouse he'd been sent to dispatch, no less.

He still couldn't believe the Prince had allowed him to leave his room. Frosty nervously peered over his shoulder. Prince Fomo's guards were nearby, and he knew the mouse had been trailing him ever since he left his room. It would have been less trouble for the Prince to simply devour Frosty then and there, but he'd made an offer Prince Fomo couldn't pass up: two kitties, rather than one.

If he could prove Lady Catherine's intentions, punishment would be swift. To seal the deal, Frosty had offered himself as collateral; whether he succeeded in proving her collusion or not, the mouse would have him. The prospect of a two-course feline meal had proved to be a convincing argument for the Prince.

Frosty knew he shouldn't be surprised that appealing to the mouse's appetite had worked.

His fate was predetermined now. All he had to do was force Lady Catherine to show her hand. How he was going to do that, he had no idea. But he'd been making it up as he went up to this point, and it was an expected part of his job to think on the fly. Maybe he'd get lucky.

"Well, here goes nothing," he mumbled, then firmly knocked on the door.

"You may enter," came the response a moment after.

He was simultaneously relieved, and anxious that Lady Catherine was waiting, as promised. Hopefully she'd be in a good mood.

A warm smile greeted him when he opened the door and timidly stepped in, Lady Catherine looking over her shoulder. "Oh, hello brother. Back from the commons already?"

Brother? Frosty remembered his disguise. Had she overlooked the possibility that he might come back, despite her warning? Surely, she wouldn't fall for her own ruse. He decided to go with it.

"Indeed. I spotted my twin sneaking off with Prince Fomo, so I presumed you were finished."

"Ah, was he now?" She seemed rather pleased with this revelation, then turned fully to face him with a smirk. "Is that jealousy I detect?"

"Jealous of what?" Frosty wondered aloud.

"Of the fact that your twin seems to be taking your place at the Prince's side."

Frosty was liking Lady Catherine less and less. Was she always like this? His cheeks got warm, face showing genuine annoyance with her taunting. "What I do with Fomo is none of your business."

It was a slip of the tongue he immediately regretted, but Frosty got away with it.

Lady Catherine huffed. "Dear brother, as your 'Royal Advisor,' what you do is entirely my business, especially where that glutton mouse is concerned."

"And what of your business?" Frosty challenged. "What were you discussing earlier, after you asked me to step away?" He was growing more confident in his role.

The chocolate-hued cat tsked. "Nothing more than a diplomatic matter, nothing to concern yourself with."

He almost scoffed at her calling attempted assassination "diplomacy." But her response also confirmed that Prince Frosty likely was oblivious to her plan. She appeared to be acting on her own, without his knowledge. He had also reached a sticking point and was unsure how to respond.

Lady Catherine's expression softened after a long moment of silence. "Frosty, brother, do you not trust me?"

He wanted to be honest and blurt out a firm "hell no," but knew better of it. He found himself shrinking back somewhat when she moved toward him.

"I assure you, I only act in the best interests of our Kingdom," she continued, slinking closer until she was able to circle her arms around Frosty's shoulders. He chirped softly as she drew him in, tail lashing nervously. "You worry far...too..."

Frosty gulped when she trailed off. He could clearly hear the deep breaths drawn through her nose as the darker cheetah sniffed at him. Heck. The game was up, and Frosty knew it. He was never going to skip a shower again.

"S-something the matter?" he asked timidly.

"You know perfectly well," she quietly hissed, showing her teeth. "What are you trying to pull?"

"I could ask you the same thing, Lady Catherine," Frosty snapped back, re-finding his confidence.

"That is still none of your concern. Why haven't you completed your task?" she demanded.

"I'm sorry, I didn't know I had a deadline."

Lady Catherine growled deeply, baring her fangs fully now. In a flash, Frosty found himself staring down a gleaming dagger, the point just short of his nose. Where had she even pulled it from?

"I gave you one job, and clear instructions. Which part was unclear to you?"

It was much more difficult to maintain his confidence when he was being held at knifepoint by a cheetah with fire in her eyes. "U-uh...w-well..."

"Since you seem to be having difficulty finding your words, I'll save you the trouble. Go back out there and do what I've asked."

Frosty opened his mouth to say something, but the tip of the knife lowered to his throat, and he decided against it.

"Don't think for a moment that I'm bluffing. Deal with the mouse, or I'll kill both of you myself."

"O-okay," Frosty quietly murmured.

"Good. I won't ask you again," she warned. "Don't show your face to me until your belly is stuffed with that smug Prince."

Frosty nodded and turned, reaching for the door. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught Lady Catherine tucking the dagger away between her breasts. He paused and looked directly at her as he blurted out, "What else are you hiding in there?"

She scowled. "Pray you don't find out."

Frosty hastily stepped into the corridor before he gave her further reason to stab him. His heart was racing as he closed the door, still able to hear Lady Catherine muttering to herself inside.

"Well, she's a delight," he mumbled. It was a stark contrast to the sweet demeanor she'd offered him their previous encounters. Clearly it was in his best interest to stay on her good side, but that wouldn't be the case soon enough.

He hoped that the ear pressed to the wall of the adjacent room had heard what it needed to...

* * * * * * * * * *

Prince Fomo looked less than amused, fingers laced together, resting against his chin. The stern expression made it clear that he'd heard enough. Frosty was now standing before the Prince's throne in his royal chamber, leather cuffs securely fastened on his wrists, held together in front by a sturdy chain. As promised, he'd turned himself in after meeting Lady Catherine, and was now flanked by two of the mouse's guards.

He didn't blame the Prince for taking precautions, though it was interesting to note that the cuffs Frosty was wearing were identical to the pair that Fomo, in his own timeline, wore as part of his regular attire.

After prolonged silence, Fomo finally spoke to his guards. "Send for Lady Catherine, and escort her to me. If she tries anything, arrest her."

"Very well," a guard replied. Frosty watched over his shoulder as a pair of guards promptly left, but the two on either side of him remained.

The uncomfortable silence resumed after the guards departed, the Prince's tail flicking in clear annoyance. It took Frosty a good minute to think of something to say to break the silence.

"So, you're not gonna get the other Frosty involved in this, are you?" he asked hopefully.

"Prince_Frosty, you mean? It would be impossible_not to involve him to some extent, given that Lady Catherine is the Royal Advisor, but I don't believe he's personally guilty of anything if that's what you're asking. Nothing I could prove, anyway."

Frosty breathed a sigh of relief. "I'm glad you think that."

The Prince chuckled and smiled softly for the first time since Frosty had returned to him. "Besides, I'm rather enjoying his approach to diplomacy. I wouldn't want to sour our relations with unfounded accusations. I'd have to find some other delicious white kitty to indulge myself with." He gave Frosty a knowing smirk to accompany that thought.

Given what he'd encountered thus far, Frosty knew what Prince Fomo was insinuating, and it make his cheeks flush. "Yeah, no idea where you'd find another one of those," he mumbled.

The Prince rose from his throne and moved toward Frosty, who was timidly looking toward the floor now. He clearly heard a rumbling growl and knew exactly where it was coming from. It was immediately followed by the mouse's tongue licking his lips, directly in Frosty's ear.

"I'm looking forward to feeling you wiggling down my throat again, chee."

Frosty was fortunate that they were interrupted a moment later; he wasn't sure how much of the Prince's teasing he'd be able to endure. His ears swiveled back, and he peeked over his shoulder to see Lady Catherine confidently strolling into the Royal Chamber, followed at a short distance by the guards that had retrieved her.

"Prince Fomo..." was all she managed to say before she set eyes on the white cheetah standing at the front of the room.

Folding his arms across his chest, the mouse regarded her with a cold stare. "Good evening, Lady Catherine." He turned away and returned to his throne, placing both arms on the rests as he sank into the plush seat.

"What is the meaning of this?" Lady Catherine immediately demanded. "Why is my b-...Why do you have Prince Frosty in chains?"

Fomo's eyes narrowed. "I've heard some...troubling things recently about your dealings here, Lady Catherine, involving you and Prince Frosty."

She scoffed at the Prince. "Are you accusing us of something?"

The mouse was silent for a moment. "Lady Catherine, I trust you would not do anything to harm the negotiations between our nations?"

The brown cheetah softened her expression, feigning innocence. "Certainly not. I only act in the best interests of our kingdom."

"And what of the interests of my realm?" Prince Fomo replied.

"I only want the best possible outcome," she offered.

Prince Fomo nodded. "Then explain to me why Prince Frosty was sent to me, with the intention of devouring me."

Lady Catherine maintained her innocence. "Are you suggesting that I sent my own Prince to unseat you? I would never do such a thing. He would never do such a thing," she added.

The mouse lightly smirked. "Well, I believe part of that claim. The rest, I'm not convinced."

The chocolate feline straightened up and rested a hand on her hip. Frosty could see that she was trying to sway the Prince with her charm. He could almost feel her influence. It was the same influence that had convinced him to go with her plan, in the first place.

"Prince Fomo, I assure you, this claim is false. We are here on friendly terms as Ambassadors representing the Kingdom of Purrsia."

Frosty wasn't the only one that sensed Lady's Catherine's attempted coercion. Prince Fomo gazed intently at her for several seconds after she replied, then began to chuckle softly. Lady Catherine looked offended at his reaction.

"Prince Fomo, I don't find this situation the least bit humorous."

The mouse lifted a hand and lightly tapped the purple bauble that was fastened to a gold circlet draped over his forehead, still chuckling, flashing his large incisors at her. "You have no power here, Lady Catherine." He then gestured toward Frosty and continued. "You are correct: you wouldn't send your own Prince to dethrone me. 'Prince' Frosty, if you would, please clarify for us."

Lady Catherine's eyes turned toward him suspiciously. He was nervous, but felt comfortable enough to corroborate the story with four guards in his immediate vicinity.

"I'm not the Prince; merely a look-alike. My being here was happenstance, but Lady Catherine took advantage of my likeness and convinced me to assume the Prince's identity, so that I could get close to you, Prince Fomo."

He could feel the other cheetah's eyes burning into him now, but continued despite it. "I don't fully know her intentions or reasoning, but I can confirm that Lady Catherine sent me to eliminate you."

The façade fell away immediately, and she lunged toward Frosty with fiery rage. "You back-stabbing turncoat!"

The guards were on her immediately. Lady Catherine was pulled up short as Frosty shrank away to avoid her grasp, claws fully extended at him. She was firmly held by the wrists, two guards securing her arms and forcing them behind her back, while the other two began to fasten leather cuffs around her forearms.

"You can't do this!" she shrieked. "I'm the Royal Advisor!"

Prince Fomo rose from his throne and coldly approached Lady Catherine, who was still struggling against the guards, with little success. Her wrists were now bound together by the same cuffs and chain that Frosty wore, and all four guards were holding her in place, two at the wrists and the others at the shoulders.

"I've heard quite enough. Lady Catherine, you are guilty of high crimes against my domain: conspiracy to overthrow my rule, and attempted assassination, which carries the penalty of digestion. Your sentence will be carried out immediately. Any final words?"

"The King will have your head," she growled.

Despite the open threat, Prince Fomo smirked and leaned closer. "He'll have yours once I'm finished with it. I'm going to thoroughly enjoy you, Kit Cat."

She snarled at the brazen usage of her nickname and bared her teeth to the grey mouse, rage further fueled by the amused snort that Frosty couldn't contain. A moment later, a black bag was swept over her head and secured around her neck by one of the guards, ensuring that she wouldn't be able to use those sharp fangs on anyone. Frosty watched the Prince lick his lips, followed by another rumbling growl. He knew what was coming next.

Lady Catherine continued to futilely squirm as she was bent down by the guards, placing her level with the much-shorter Prince. The mouse's jaws yawned wide, tongue sliding over his lower lip and hanging down, dripping with drooling anticipation. His movement was swift, cramming the lady cheetah into his mouth, tongue flattening against her chin and neck and silencing the angry protests she was freely lobbing from beneath the black hood.

It wasn't the first time he'd watched the mouse indulge out of spite. Well, not this mouse, but he'd witnessed his own Fomo turn the tables on several predators that had tried to get the drop on him. There was something particularly vindicating about it, this time. He'd turned Lady Catherine's plan on its head, and now she was being ushered into the Prince's throat as punishment.

A wet "gllllk" filled the Royal Hall as her bagged head became a prominent shape gliding down the mouse's neck. The guards kept a firm hold on lady Catherine despite being cuffed, pinning her arms so the Prince could begin working his jaws around her shoulders. The top of her dress snagged on the mouse's teeth, and as he took another heavy swallow, the golden fabric slid off her shoulders and began to slip down her body.

Once her shoulders were fitted into Fomo's slick throat, her descent began to pick up with frightening efficiency. Lady Catherine was more than a foot taller than the mouse who was delightedly groaning around his mouthful of chocolate cheetah, but he was packing several inches of her torso into his throat with each greedy gulp.

The Prince's hands grabbed at the loose fabric hanging around Lady Catherine's middle, tugging it down her body. Frosty watched with a growing blush as her butt was exposed to everyone in the room, spotted brown tail lashing about in a frenzy. As Fomo crouched lower, the guards grabbed Lady Catherine by the legs and lifted her off the floor. The Prince's head tipped back, ears blissfully laying down as her head dipped into his belly.

Frosty couldn't take his eyes off the mouse's front. He could see the shape of Lady Catherine's torso squirming beneath his white fur, belly steadily growing and sagging as she was squeezed inside. His mind paired it with memories of his own trips down Fomo's throat, making Frosty fidget where he was standing. He would be making that same trip soon enough, hopefully after Lady Catherine had calmed down a bit.

Despite how quickly he'd been devouring her, Prince Fomo was beginning to show signs of struggling with his meal. His eyes and muzzle scrunched as he wiggled his jaws, wetly shlrrking around Lady Catherine as he strained to cram her hips into his mouth. There wasn't much progress being made, and Frosty wondered if perhaps she was too much for him to handle.

With determined effort, Fomo grabbed her thighs and shoved firmly, proving Frosty wrong as those shapely hips disappeared into the mouse's full cheeks. The Prince groaned with deep satisfaction before he heavily swallowed again, turning the wiggling curves into a rather defined bulge sliding beneath his fur.

Frosty looked on as the remainder of the lady cheetah vanished rapidly. The guards finally released her legs, allowing her to slip the rest of the way inside. He watched a pair of brown paws kick uselessly against the air, the mouse's crimson tongue curling around them and scooping them inside, drool dripping down his lips. With a wet slurp, Prince Fomo thoroughly wetted Lady Catherine's feet before they were sent down, tracing his neck with a fingertip to follow their descent.

Nobody said a word. The only sounds to fill the royal hall were those of the mouse's belly getting acquainted with Lady Catherine as she was forced to curl into the tight space. She was well-imprinted against Prince Fomo's waistline, weighing down on his thighs as he fully settled to the floor. The mouse's hands roamed enthusiastically over his lively gut, visibly shivering at her struggle while allowing soft, pleased squeaks.

Prince Fomo opened his mouth to speak after a long groan, but the first thing to properly break the silence was a deep, undignified belch. The mouse didn't bother excusing himself, licking his lips with a giggle as he hunched forward.

"There we are. Right where you belong, Kit Cat. You're just as delicious as you look."

Frosty had to look away. Not because he was put off by the Prince's actions, but because he was flustered.

The audible gurgles from Prince Fomo's stomach began to grow steadily wetter as time passed, joined by an endless string of muffled, unintelligible cursing. Prince Fomo continued pushing and rubbing firmly into his belly, groaning with his eyes squeezed shut. The look on his face was pure bliss.

It was likely the same expression Fomo wore after devouring him, Frosty knew.

Eventually, Prince Fomo reached up. "Help me back to my throne." The guards nodded and took the mouse's hands, lifting him to his feet and keeping him steady as he turned and stumbled toward the well-padded seat. His belly sloshed with each step, threatening to throw him off balance, were it not for his guards' assistance.

When the Prince carefully lowered himself onto the throne, his belly weighed down on his legs once more, still visibly moving about as its prisoner struggled. Fomo arched, tightening his gut around Lady Catherine, biting his lip.

"Ooooh, kitties like you feel so delightful in there," he crooned. "Squirm all you like; it'll only help you digest even quicker."

A particularly energetic wiggle at the Prince's teasing caused Fomo to scoot forward in his seat. The mouse tried to steady himself, squirming and fidgeting as his belly noisily gurgled and churned. Eventually, his rump ended up gliding off the edge of the seat and lazily slid to the floor at the foot of his throne. Two guards quickly moved in to help the mouse up, but Prince Fomo waved them off.

"No, this is fine," he reassured. As he looked up from floor, he laid eyes on Frosty, who was visibly flustered now. The snowy cheetah was scantily clad in Prince Frosty's flirty pink robes, and the black thong he was wearing beneath did little to hide the fact that he was exceptionally aroused.

"You seem to be enjoying the spectacle," the mouse teased. "Looking forward to satisfying your side of the bargain?"

Frosty gulped quietly, feeling his chest flutter. He simply nodded without a word as they made eye contact, much to the Prince's amusement.

"I have to wonder, are you as much of a belly lover as Princess Frosty?" Fomo inquired.

"Y-yes, sir," he quietly admitted.

"Yes,Prince," the mouse corrected.

His cheeks were getting hotter, but Frosty nodded again. "Y-yes, Prince Fomo."

He grinned at the cheetah's deference, then gestured to Frosty while speaking to his guards. "Remove his bindings."

The guards didn't hesitate or question the order, lest they join Lady Catherine. Frosty looked down as the leather cuffs were unlocked and loosened, allowing him to slip his wrists free of them. They hadn't been fully tightened, and were for show more than anything in this instance. He could have easily freed himself at any point if he wished to do so. Everything had gone according to plan.

When he looked up again, Prince Fomo was beckoning the cheetah over with a curled finger. "Come sit with me. Help me make room for the second course."

"C-certainly," Frosty murmured, stepping toward the seated Prince. He knelt beside him, allowing the mouse to loop an arm around his waist and draw him in. Prince Fomo's belly was now resting against his side, placing a trembling hand against the squirming dome.

"Go on, don't be nervous," the Prince reassured. "You'll be getting better acquainted with it soon enough."

The mouse's stomach churned against his fingers as Frosty pushed in on it. Lady Catherine was still mostly intact, but he could already feel her going soft as the Prince wore her down. His belly wasn't holding back at all. Frosty could feel the undulations, rhythmically squeezing the chocolate cat at regular intervals. His attention earned a soft, squeaking croon, prompting him to bring up his other hand and drape both arms around Prince Fomo's swollen middle.

Slumping over, Frosty let himself sink down until his head was rested against the Prince's belly. He could hear the churning gurgles of a cat being digested within, but everything became much clearer when Prince Fomo placed a hand on his head and gently pushed him into the softening shape.

"Mmmh, feel that, kitty? That's going to be you next," Fomo sighed contently. "Give it a nice squeeze, won't you?"

Frosty did as he was asked. His arms tightened on either side of the mouse's gut, rubbing his palms firmly into it, as if he were kneading dough. He felt the Prince shiver, gently rocking his body to grind his stomach against the snowy cat in his arms. Their combined attention resulted in a sudden, wet " crrrnch" that Frosty could feel as clearly as he heard. The crackling noises continued with each clench, Fomo's stomach steadily shrinking and further softening. The squirming from his meal had stopped by this point.

"Oooooh, she's not lasting long at all in there," Fomo purred, back arching as Frosty continued to rub and explore his rounded middle. "Melting just like chocolate for me."

There was another wet, lengthy gurgle from the Prince's gut, then the mouse hunched forward. Another belch escaped, softer than the first, then Frosty felt his abdomen lurch. The Prince twisted his upper body to lean away from his attentive companion, then made a "hrrrk" before a slimy bundle fell from his mouth.

It should have been a macabre sight, watching that soggy black bag - clumps of brown fur clinging to it - land on the marble floor with a splat. But Frosty blushed even more intensely, instead. He could see part of a white skull peeking from the open end of the sack, with Lady Catherine's pendant loosely tangled around it.

The cheetah's ears perked, and he lifted his head to peer up at the Prince, who was currently licking his lips clean. "Mmh, still tastes like chocolate, too," the mouse mused.

Frosty knew that his timeline's Fomo had the same opinion of him. The mouse had said as such on multiple occasions, praising him for the vanilla-scented cheetah breath that lingered long after digesting his meal. He didn't share that thought, simply burying his blushing cheek into the Prince's belly once more, which was nearly soft as a pillow now.

Grinning, Prince Fomo leaned down and crooned into his ear. "You must really want in there."

"Mmf, m-maybe a bit," Frosty admitted.

He'd made a deal with the Prince that he intended to follow through on. He wasn't wearing any of his CATS gear, but considering how things had played out up to now, he suspected it wouldn't matter. He felt the Prince's teeth catch his ear, nibbling lightly and sending a shiver up Frosty's back that made him groan.

"I think Lady Catherine has made enough room for you. Any requests before you join her?"

"W-well...not really," Frosty murmured. "Maybe...take your time enjoying your second helping, once you get me down," he suggested.

A hand joined the mouse's belly below Frosty's hand, rubbing across the surface. "I think I can accommodate you in that."

"In that case..." Frosty sat upright, reluctantly lifting his head from the Prince's burbling gut. When he moved to stand, a pair of arms tightened around his waist and hindered the attempt.

"Going somewhere, chee?" Prince Fomo inquired.

Frosty shook his head. "No, I'm not leaving. I don't want to spoil the Prince's robes."

Fomo seemed to understand what he was insinuating and nodded, relaxing his grip, and allowing the cheetah to clamber to his feet. Frosty momentarily hesitated, but soon began to undress. When he bent down to slip off his stockings, however, he felt the mouse catch the end of his tail. Peering over his shoulder, he was met with a mischievous glint in the Prince's eyes.

"Let's see if you wiggle down this way as well as Princess Frosty does..."

"Uh..." Frosty started to speak, but left the thought unfinished as he watched the tip of his tail meet Prince Fomo's lips, then vanish between them. The mouse suckled on it like a noodle, and with a soft gulp, he felt it rapidly slithering down the Prince's throat.

Well, I tried. There wasn't any time to finish undressing as the Prince's jaws quickly rushed up to greet his flexed butt, still hunched forward in a rather undignified position. A pair of hands came to rest on Frosty's hips, feeling over and admiring his feminine figure. Wiggling his hips, he encouraged the Prince to proceed.

"O-open wide, mousie...I-I mean...Prince Fo- ah!" His attempt to correct himself turned into a sharp chirp when he was abruptly pulled backwards by the hips.

Much like with Lady Catherine, there was no hesitation on the Prince's part. A pair of jaws swiftly gaped around Frosty's butt, sampling and tasting the white cheeks that were left mostly exposed by his thong. The mouse hooked his thumbs into the waistband of the thong, and as he began to ease the cheetah's tightly flexed butt into his throat, he slid the thong away and pushed it down his thighs. Frosty was grateful that Prince Fomo had waited until then to remove it, because the mouse's jaws overtaking his hips concealed the fact that he was still rather aroused.

Frosty was also thankful for how naturally limber and flexible he was, given his current situation. He watched as he was consumed, feeling himself slipping farther into the slimy passage, thighs pressing against the front of his body. He could feel the tension building, the Prince's muscles gulping softly at first to get Frosty situated. Without warning, the mouse made a hearty gulp, eliciting another chirp as Frosty felt himself abruptly descend. Doubled over himself, he was now quickly being ushered down the Prince's gullet, legs being forced to straighten as the mouse slipped past his knees, until Frosty's feet were pressed to either side of his head.

There was no turning back now, nor did he intend to. Frosty didn't care that he wasn't wearing his suit, or that the guards were intently watching the Prince devour him. He was honoring his end of the bargain, just as he'd promised.

Everything was getting tighter, hotter as he was swallowed down. Soon Prince Fomo's jaws were climbing over his shoulders, mouse incisors nibbling teasingly up the back of his neck. The same teeth became a prominent feature in his view when another heavy swallow pulled his head inside. Down below, Frosty felt his rump being introduced to the mouse's belly, a hot, churning cauldron of digesting cat.

A satisfied groan filled his ears as Prince Fomo pressed his tongue to Frosty's throat and chin. The slick muscle rolled back and forth several times, massaging drool into the cheetah's fur as he was thoroughly tasted. When the mouse's throat gripped his body again, he felt himself being dragged in, watching the outside world slip away until he was fully enveloped in steamy, slippery darkness.

All he was left with, was the feel of the mouse's throat massaging him down, squeezing him into the Prince's belly. Wet glrrks now filled his ears, accompanying each persistent ripple. He felt himself being packed into the sweltering, tight space, joining the cheetah that had made the trip ahead of him. There wasn't much left that he might identify as "Lady Catherine" at this point, as rough at the Prince's gut had been on her.

As the Prince let out a deep, satisfied groan, Frosty felt his surroundings shift, sloshing the mouse's stomach contents over him.

"Ooooh, gosh...that's...huff...a lot of kitty to handle in one sitting," Prince Fomo groaned. "Gonna be sleeping soundly tonight, thanks to you two."

"Happy to help," Frosty mumbled, knowing full-well that the Prince wouldn't be able to hear him over his own churning stomach. It wasn't important, though. It wouldn't change the outcome.

With any luck, he'd come to in the CATS infirmary at an undetermined time in the future. Otherwise, he'd probably wake up in his own bed again, and do the whole thing over. But he didn't need to concern himself with it. All Frosty needed to do now was relax, let the undulations of those clenching muscles push and work him over. He was mouse food again.

In that moment, nothing else mattered but the sensation of the Prince's stomach beginning to digest him...