Richard prowled through the city streets, looking for his dinner.
Hunting was a bit different for Richard compared to other preds. Most predators had to be at least somewhat careful, lest they run into a prey -- or group of prey -- that they couldn't handle. And there was always the danger of a bigger, badder predator out there, who might decide that *you* look like a good meal.
Not so for Richard. He *was* the bigger, badder predator. As an apex, there was basically nothing that could touch him. And as a result, he could afford to take risks that other predators couldn't. He could grab a prey out of a herd, and the others would scatter rather than try to fight back or defend their own. He could attack another predator with little worry about ending up being the one in the belly at the end of the night. He was a monster, the top of the food chain, unbeatable and unassailable. He wasn't completely invincible, obviously, and still needed to exercise *some* caution, but in general, anything that could even *consider* making him a meal would go for something easier instead.
Of course, these extra options were tempered by the fact that his sheer size made it difficult for him to keep a low profile. Richard towered over most residents of the city, with many not even reaching his waist. He had to stoop to enter most businesses, if he could even fit inside at all. So it was easy to see him coming. Prey would give him a wide berth, trying to stay out of his sprinting range. It made things difficult.
So his main hunting strategy was to go out at night, when the dark might potentially help conceal him, and stroll around until an opportunity presented itself. And eventually, an opportunity *would* show up. He wore a pair of dark jeans and a zip-up hoodie, which was currently unzipped, allowing anyone who wanted to sneak a peek at his toned chest covered with spotted fur. He kept his posture unassuming and casual, even though he was ready to bound into a sprint at the slightest provocation. Eventually, some prey would be distracted by a phone, or a conversation with a friend, or they would think their herd gave them more protection than it did, and they would let him get too close. And then they would be his.
"H-hey! Let me go!"
Richard's left ear perked up. Or maybe he would find a different distraction.
Going into full stealth mode, Richard slipped into the shadows of the concrete jungle. The alley was narrow, and he barely fit inside, but he moved swiftly and silently, keeping himself as hidden as possible.
The alley gave way to a small dirt street, which ran past a large field, probably for playing baseball. A chain-link fence separated the street and the grass, and it was up against this fence that he saw the source of the shout.
A female -- wolf? No, a coyote; she was too small to be a wolf -- had a rabbit pinned against the chain link fence. She was already starting to eat, her jaws around the rabbit's shoulders, trying to work her way down. She had already stripped the rabbit, whose clothes lay in a pile on the ground next to them, topped by a shirt that likely belonged to the coyote; that was common predator behavior, as she wouldn't want her shirt to rip when her chest and stomach bulged out. The rabbit struggled, of course, but the coyote had her trapped -- she wasn't getting away.
Richard stayed back in the shadows of the alley and glanced around, taking in the situation. He didn't catch sight nor scent of any other coyotes; it seemed the rabbit didn't warrant the help of a pack. And more importantly, the coyote hadn't noticed his approach. She had let herself be distracted by her meal.
Richard dropped into a low crouch, sliding the hoodie off his back and letting it fall quietly to the ground. Staying low, he stalked closer, closer, until he was almost on top of them.
The coyote still hasn't noticed Richard's approach. She had up to the rabbit's waist in her gullet now, and was starting to try to work on the hips. She had no idea what was coming.
In a swift, smooth motion, Richard reached out with both hands, clasped the coyote by the ankles, and stood up straight.
The action flipped the coyote upside down, leaving her hanging by her ankles with the rabbit still halfway down her throat. She let out a muffled "mmmrrmmph!?" sound, turning her head as much as possible and glancing back. Her eye widened and her pupil shrank as she took in the jaguar holding her.
Richard opened his mouth wide and shoved both of the coyote's feet inside. He clamped his mouth down and swallowed.
He had swallowed to her knees when she suddenly stopped moving.
Confused, Richard furrowed his brow, holding the coyote in place with both hands while he tried to assess the situation. He quickly realized the problem.
The rabbit, her legs still hanging from the coyote's jaws, had managed to wrap her feet around the metal bar at the top of the chain-link fence. Her large toes had quite a grip on it, holding herself in place, preventing any further progress.
Impressive. Not a bad move, really.
Richard shrugged. The rabbit was the smaller prize here, anyway. He leaned forward and swallowed harder.
Slowly, but steadily, the coyote started to move. As she slid back towards Richard's waiting gullet, the rabbit slid out of hers, the rabbit's body appearing as the coyote's disappeared. The coyote, realizing what was happening, tried to grab at the rabbit's fur to hold herself in place, but Richard grabbed her by the wrists and forced her hands into his mouth, trapping them alongside his body. He wondered if the rabbit would slip, but her grip on the fence held.
It didn't take long after that. Soon, with a wet *glk*, Richard was pulling the Coyote's head into his mouth, just as the rabbit's head and ears popped out of hers. The rabbit dropped to the path, landing on her feet in an impressive display of agility.
"Wait!" The coyote just had time to scream. "Don't...!"
Richard clicked his teeth closed in front of the coyote's nose. He tilted his head back and swallowed. A large lump moved down his throat and settled in his gut. On his large frame, it wouldn't even be that noticeable once he put his hoodie back on.
Richard released a large belch. "Excuse me," he said, to no one in particular.
"You're excused."
Surprised, Richard looked down to see the rabbit. She was still standing where she had fallen, staring at the bulge in Richard's belly. The fur on most of her body was a dark black, and the upper half of her body was soaking wet.
Funny. Why hadn't she run? He had expected her to sprint away the moment her paws touched earth.
"You... you ate her." The rabbit said. She seemed a bit stunned.
"Um... yeah."
"Now you're going to digest her."
"Yes, that is usually what happens," Richard answered. He wasn't quite sure what was going on.
"I'm sorry, I just... I've never actually seen a pred eat this close before. It... it was almost me." A shudder went through the rabbit's body, making her shiver.
Wait a minute. "Are you... *into* this?" Richard asked.
The rabbit looked surprised. She started to take a step back, but Richard dropped into a squat and brought one hand down onto her back. His huge hand wrapped all the way around the back of her shoulders, and he applied downward pressure, holding her in place to prevent her from running.
He had heard about this -- "willing prey," animals that actually *wanted* to be eaten. They would intentionally flaunt themselves in front of predators, hoping to take a trip down some pred's throat. Was that how she had ended up with the coyote? Had she been teasing her?
His curiosity getting the better of him, Richard opened his mouth wide and eased the rabbit toward it. His breath washed over her face. He brought her so close, her head was actually inside the empty space between his jaws, though they weren't actually touching.
The rabbit shuddered, staring into the darkness of his gullet. He heard her breathing get faster. It was true: she was enjoying this. He could swallow her right now without a fight.
Except... she *had* fought back, when it was the coyote. She had even saved herself. And it was a cry of fear that had alerted him to their presence in the first place. So she hadn't actually been willing. She just...
He pulled back, closing his mouth, though he kept his hand on the frightened rabbit's shoulders. "You like it, don't you?" Richard said.
The rabbit stopped shaking from shear surprise. Her eyes widened. "What?"
"The idea of being eaten. Some part of you wishes you hadn't gotten out of that coyote's throat, that you had gone down with her."
"Um..." The rabbit looked like she didn't know how to respond.
"But you *did* get out," Richard continued. "So you don't actually *want* to be eaten. Which, I mean, makes sense, because that would mean you'd be dead. But you like the *idea* of it, don't you?"
"Well, um..." The rabbit actually looked a bit bashful, looking down and shuffling one foot on the ground. "I mean... I've never actually put it into words before, but... yeah, that sounds about right."
Richard nodded. "Would you like to get some coffee?" He asked.
The rabbit's eyes snapped back up to meet his. "What? You're not going to eat me?"
Richard gave his full belly a hearty slap with he free hand, causing it to jiggle. "I'm full. That coyote was more than filling enough. There's a coffee shop nearby that can fit me; I was wondering if maybe you'd like to chat for a bit."
The rabbit looked doubtful. "Why?"
"Call it... feline curiosity. I've never met anyone like you before. I'd be interested in talking to you about it, learning more. If you'd like, I'll let you feel my stomach. From the outside," he amended.
The rabbit looked down at Richard's gut, which was still squirming feebly. Her voice sounded hopeful. "R-really?"
"What's your name? I'm Richard."
"Olive."
Richard nodded. "Well, Olive, here's what I'm gonna do. I understand that you have little reason to trust me. But if I was going to eat you, you would already be in my belly by now. So I'm going to let you go, and I'm going to go pick up the hoodie that I dropped over there. And if you want, you can run. I probably won't be able to catch you, weighed down like I am. But if you want to stick around, you can dry off, get dressed, and we can swing by that coffee shop."
Richard released his grip on the rabbit's shoulders. True to his word, he stood up, turned his back to her, and walked over to where he had dropped his hoodie. He bent over to pick it up, shook the dust off it, and slipped his arms inside. This time he zipped it up, and sure enough, it hid his prey-filled belly quite nicely, though anyone looking might have thought he had let himself go a bit.
He turned around, fully expected to see an empty street. But no, there was the rabbit, currently in the process of pulling her pants back on and threading the loop that went over her fluffy tail.
"So," she said, as she bent over to pick up her shirt. "Where's this coffee shop?"
Richard grinned. It was going to be an interesting evening.
