FSE

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"Fred and Wilma Skunkstone," growled the skunk.

Terry, the party goer assigned to the door looked up, and up some more. The male skunk was more than seven feet tall, thick of body and limb, with a bit of a pot belly. The caveman club on his shoulder was almost as long as Terry was tall and as thick as a man's thigh.

The skunk was in costume, in a yellow fake fur tunic with dark brown spots that looked like chocolate chips. He must have bought it at a costume store and it fit around his huge torso well enough. The issue was his tremendous height and the belly that hiked the smock up. Terry was somehow sure the cave skunk had nothing on under the smock and that if he ducked down he'd find a set of furry skunk balls staring back at him.

Next to the towering Fred Flintstone skunk was a female one two feet shorter. She of course had on a white Wilma Flintstone dress and her puff of white head fur was arranged in a spiral in front and a bun in back.

She was also extremely pregnant. Terry gawked at the vast bulge in her middle, where the white dress stretched tight.

"It's fake," she purred conspiratorially. She pressed a clawed hand against her baby bump, which dimpled in like a balloon. "But it makes sense." Her Wilma dress draped over the bulge so he couldn't see the balloon itself and he wondered if her naughty bits, too, would show if he ducked. Terry did not duck. Not with her massive skunk husband standing next to her.

Terry nodded. Carrying "Fred's" baby would balloon her out. Though "Wilma Skunkstone" was a bit chubby, her husband must weigh at least five hundred pounds. The baby would be huge, and that assumed she wouldn't carry a whole litter.

"Couldn't find the necklace," the skunkette purred, and Terry's eyes followed her hand to her neck. "So I'm only mostly Wilma."

"Welcome to the party," he said, and waved them in with a theatrical flutter of his vampire cape.

Striper and Sandra smiled at each other, then split up to mingle. It was the third party they'd been at tonight and the second in a row blaring the Monster Mash on too many speakers. It was noisy, there was lots of alcohol being passed around. Just the place to find a meal.

"Dude," said a very drunk werewolf. He looked back and forth between Wilma and Fred. "Costume over costume? Cool."

They ran into that confusion a lot. Anthropomorphic animals were rare enough that they could be celebrities if they liked, but Striper and Sandra kept low profiles. They worked just enough to stay active and stayed out of the public eye. Both worked low-class jobs, he as a security guard and she as a stripper. Sandra had a sometimes second job as an administrative assistant at a police station.

The three jobs were chosen carefully. As a stripper, Sandra ran into a lot of people so far down the societal ladder that hardly an eyebrow was raised when they disappeared. This was very useful as it was often Striper or Sandra they disappeared into. Their other jobs gave them enought insight into police procedures and security systems to avoid being caught while enjoying their predatory hobby.

Most often their victims were the homeless, hitchhikers, itinerant workers. They were selective and careful when hunting. Tonight Sandra was selective, too.

"That is a great costume," said a woman in a skimpy elf costume. She looked Sandra over and Sandra checked her out in return. The skunkette flicked her tail and smiled. With a crook of a finger she led the elf over to a secluded corner.

"Part of it is a costume," Sandra purred. The elf leaned closer, fascinated by the moments of her muzzle. The closer she got the more she saw that it was all real. Whiskers, chops that moved when Sandra talked, ears that swiveled to take in nearby sounds.

"Oh my god! You're real!" The elf squealed and clapped her hands. "May I touch you?"

Sandra looked around at the others in the room. There were two Barbies, a Ken, the always present six pack of crayons with one color per person that won a lot of costume contests, a guy in either a very badly made set of medieval armor or a very bad robot costume, and others in the next room. She could see her husband towering over the people there. A woman in a Tinkerbelle costume had her hand up under his Fred Flintstone smock to feel his sheath. Normally a skunk's sheath was sunken into its belly fur but it didn't take much to make her husband's swell.

Striper saw her looking, saw the elf next to her, who was usefully smaller than his wife, and made a small motion to the side with his muzzle. Sandra realized they were standing next to the open door of a walk-in pantry.

"I don't want to start a rush," Sandra purred. "Most everyone here is so drunk they think it's all costume. I've already had to tell couple of guys 'no' and if they realize I'm really a skunk...."

"Oh, right," said the elf brightly. "We'll go in here!" She bustled Sandra into the pantry and closed the door behind them. It turned out to also be the entry to the house's garage too, which meant it was roomy. Sandra eyed the garage door to make sure the deadbolt was set before turning toward the elf with a smile.

"It's a long story," she purred, and the elf leaned in close to hear over the Halloween music. Even in here it was loud.

"Your costume is good too," she purred, and got the elf to pirouette with a twirl of her finger. That let her see that the skimpy costume didn't hide a wallet or a cell phone. Some of these parties made people leave their phones in a bowl, or maybe the elf lived here. No phone was a good thing. Well, good for Sandra anyway.

"I just can't believe it," the elf said when they were face to face again. Sandra was pretty sure she was a lesbian, or bisexual at least, from the way she leaned in close. She grabbed Sandra's hand without asking and stared at the pink pawpads and claws. Then she turned and found herself looking at the skunkette's equally pink nosepad from close up.

"Oh," she said, and let Sandra guide her hands until they were in something more intimate than a hug. "Will your husband mind?"

"Not at all," Sandra purred, and as the women leaned in to kiss her jaws creaked wide.

Before the elf realized what was happening her whole head was in the skunkette's mouth. Sandra's hug let her get her hands into position and she pinned her meal's arms to her side, rolled her tongue up beneath the elf's chin and swallowed.

Slick gullet slithered past the elf's face and she panicked. That was exactly what Sandra expected and she pinned her against the wall, using her fake baby bump to smother the struggle. Before the elf recovered from the shock of being eaten the skunkette was already over her shoulders and rapidly working her jaws over her upper body.

Meals are more fun when you can take your time but Sandra couldn't. She heaved her muzzle upward with a grunt of effort, lifting almost her own weight in prey, and swallowed with all her might. She felt her fangs scrape along the barely clad elf's belly and back and just that quickly she had a set of hips in her mouth.

Down inside her she knew the woman's face was in her stomach. Nothing provoked a panicked squirm like the unexpected sting of stomach acids.

It was too late for squirming to save the elf. Sandra thrust her muzzle upward, swallowing repeatedly, and the kicking legs protruding from her maw grew shorter with each gulp. She kept the woman against the wall and not the pantry shelves and hoped the thumping music would drown out the bang of feet against drywall. Once the hips were in her mouth it was easy and the panicked woman slipped into a slick chute of gullet with a hungry skunk stomach waiting at the bottom.

Hurry. Sadly, she had to hurry. With a thrust of her muzzle a set of green elf shoes were in her mouth and she allowed herself only a moment to savor the terrified kicks. Pinned by gullet and muzzle the feet wriggled in her mouth, then in her throat as she swallowed.

The swelling in her neck shrank - this was why she hadn't worn the Wilma Flintstone rock necklace she found at the costume store - and with a last gulp the feet slid neatly down her throat to join the rest of the woman. Her meal was scratched and scraped by her fangs but still very much alive and a few scrapes were now the least of the woman's worries.

The fake baby bump on top of the new bulge in her middle swelled cartoonishly large and she found the valve under her armpit and opened it. With a noise like a long fart her belly shrank and she stopped deflating when she was about the same size as before. Enough thickness of balloon remained to conceal the new lumps in her middle.

Kicking lumps, but only briefly. Sandra covered her muzzle and muffled a belch. Regrettably there could be no play at swallowing air to keep her prey alive. She had to be satisfied with her meal.

Surprised, and without a good breath of air when her face was swallowed, the elf kicked only a few times, then was still. Just a lump of meat on a short trip through a skunkette's guts. Sandra made sure nothing had been knocked off the shelves, then took a moment to straighten the balloon belly bump.

She was just in time. She was reaching for the doorknob when the inside door opened.

"Oh!" Sandra put on her best slightly drunk, eyelash fluttering embarrassed face. "I'm so sorry, do you live here? I thought this door led to the bathroom and was just getting turned around." She patted her baby bump, which along with her tail made her so wide front to back that she had difficulty turning end for end without hitting the shelves.

"Uh, no," said the drunk werewolf from before. His mask had slipped and she could see his glasses were knocked out of whack under them. That was a stroke of luck. "Bathroom's around the corner to the left. I was looking for Laurie."

"I don't know anyone here," Sandra purred apologetically. She brushed a wandering werewolf glove upward before it could feel her belly. She let the werewolf savor the minor triumph of accidentally ongroping a skunkette titty through her Wilma dress. It was a useful distraction as the last thing he was interested in now was the "baby bump" stuffed full of elf.

She left the confused werewolf behind and with an elegant flick of her tail balanced her newly heavy belly so she looked as light on her feet as when it was all balloon. Sandra was stronger than she looked and carried almost her own weight in human without trouble. She'd had a lot of practice.

Getting out without someone bumping into her and feeling the lumpy, not yet digested bulge under the balloon would be tricky but she and her husband were old hands at covering for each other. Striper saw at once that she'd eaten someone and bulled his way through the crowd the way only a skunk the size of Andre the Giant could. The crayon team got a massive skunk tail in the face and he swept her off her feet as though she weighed nothing at all.

"Wilma Skunkstone" grinned down at the others from Striper's arms, her husband's huge caveman club balanced atop her knees and one elbow.

"My husband has a big club," she purred down at the party, and everyone laughed. "You should feel it sometime."

"Oh, I have," said Tinkerbelle with a grin, and with a wink and a nod Sandra was carried off.

"See you next year," Striper growled to the vampire as he went out the door. Sandra and her meal together weighed close to three hundred pounds but Striper was very strong and carried her like a feather. Outside the house and around the corner he plopped her down on her feet next to the van.

"My dear, you've put on weight," he growled as he slid behind the steering wheel.

"And you've lost some," Sandra purred. She could smell the skunk jism on his Fred Flintstone smock.

"It was just a little hand job," he growled as he pulled away from the curb. "It wouldn't fit in her mouth."

"It rarely does," Sandra giggled. She slid her hands under the baby bump balloon, kneading the swelling made by a woman swallowed whole, and let out her second long burp of the evening. This time she didn't need to muffle it.

"But I didn't manage to get either of the ladies alone," Striper growled.

"I know," purred Sandra. The balloon under his Fred Flintstone costume was lower profile than hers, but served the same purpose. It would cover up a meal when viewed by an untrained eye, but hers wasn't untrained. Just as he'd known the second he saw her that she'd swallowed someone, she'd seen from the way he stood that he hadn't.

"I'm sorry you didn't get a meal, honey," Sandra purred. "I can't go to another party like this. Even with the balloon, someone will see how full I am."

Her husband nodded as he steered the van. "It happens. We have to be careful. It could have been me that got a meal, then I'd feel bad you didn't."

Sandra let out a last belch, probably the air from the elf's lungs, and leaned back in her seal. The elf hadn't had a phone and no one saw her go into the pantry with Sandra. Even if there was a camera covering the front of the house, all it'd catch was a pregnant skunkette going in and an equally pregnant one coming out. Eventually someone would realize the elf was missing, and the cops might stop by as part of an investigation. Question every party goer, that was the routine.

"It's hard to prove a murder when there's no body," she purred, and Striper grinned as he pulled into their garage. With the door sliding shut behind them she leaned over and pulled up his smock. Though he'd cum on or in a woman's mouth not long ago, his sheath stiffened at her touch.

"And by the time they come looking, there won't be a body to find," Striper growled. Already a warm gurgle rose from his wife's swollen middle as the elf was consumed. By morning she'd have digested and passed the softer parts of her meal and by the time an investigation really got going the last bits of the elf would have made their way through Sandra's bowels and you'd have to search the city sewer system to find any traces. Even the elf costume looked like something she could pass, or failing that, cough up and flush.

Sandra, purred, nodded, and nuzzled her husband's balls. His thick black shaft slid out and unlike Tinkerbelle's earlier, it fit in his wife's mouth. To a skunkette who'd swallowed a woman whole, a cock the size of a man's forearm was just dessert.