Cajun Cuisine

Calvin McMurray was, by most accounts, a good boy. He did what his mum told him to do. He helped out around the house and even helped his neighbors, should they ask. He liked baseball. He went to church (maybe less than he should). He didn't drink, he didn't smoke. He even tried to join up with the law. And of course, he helped his down-and-out cousin as much as he could, even if his mother advised against it.

He was a good boy, but he could be better. If he had been, he wouldn't be in this situation. He wouldn't be helping his cousin, 'Rocky', in his recently volunteered rum-running duties for the Lackadaisy speakeasy. He wouldn't be pinned down in some abandoned warehouse with two other lunatics. The Savoys, from Calvin's understanding, were two other hired guns from a competitor named Marigold. He didn't think of himself as a hired gun, but for the past ten minutes he might as well not have been any different.

What started as a quiet night of attempting to smuggle some hooch had become a stressful firefight. Mainly for Rocky, the only one here not equipped with a firearm. Calvin too, but in a different way; as soon as the bullets started flying, his nerves quickly got the better of him. It made him quite the fiery and frightening foe, giving him an all-new demeanor that would unsettle anyone that knew him for the quiet and polite boy he usually was.

Rocky knew very well about this. In fact, he relied on it for situations exactly like this one. Not that he had intended for Calvin (or 'Freckle', as he would call him) to join him in this life, or expected his handiness with a firearm. But watching Freckle take shots with deadly accuracy, fangs bared, he knew he was in safe hands. "Attaboy, Freckle!" He cheered from behind concrete cover, earning a quick and sharp dart of the eyes from his cousin before he fired another shot.

On the other side of things, the Savoys were enjoying themselves just as well. They were a pair of siblings from the bayous and each of them thrived in this sort of chaos, as well as being rather deadly themselves. Nico, the slightly older brother with the brawn, was firing back with a revolver. Alternating with him was his sister, Serafine, thoroughly enjoying an automatic rifle. After finishing her latest burst she cackled, calling out towards her targets, "This is fun, petit fou! Nobody up here got fire like you."

She got no response from Freckle besides a loud shout and a bullet pinging near where she was. Nico chuckled, "Not so sure he's having fun like you." Privately, while she reloaded, he gestured towards his own revolver's now-empty cylinder. Out of reloads too. They hadn't exactly been conservative with the ammunition, especially Serafine. Of course, she reasoned that her gun had to sing, after all.

For his own part, Freckle wasn't doing so hot on ammo either. In fact, he went for another shot again and instead got a mere click from his gun. He growled and put it away, slinking back behind cover. They had been at this for too long, darting and weaving through the warehouse. It didn't help that he had to keep Rocky out of danger. As his mind started to race, Rocky piped up with, "Seems we've gotten all the lead out, cousin!" He peeked over the edge, catching a glimpse of Serafine. "And yet, our trigger-happy tireurs seem all too happy to continue!"

Freckle was catching his breath now, some semblance of normalcy returning to him. Especially the anxiety of the terribly dangerous situation they were in. Rocky crawled over and grabbed him by his arms, leaning in too close. "New idea! Let's split our delinquent duo up! I'll go this way, you go that way!"

Freckle frowned. "Rocky, I don't think--"

"Great!! Bonne chance!" The blue-clad cat scrambled to his feet and took off towards a dark corridor of the warehouse. Freckle watched as he went, stunned despite the fact that he should be used to it.

Calvin McMurray was, by most accounts, a good boy. He did what his mum told him to do. He helped out around the house and even helped his neighbors, should they ask. He liked baseball. He went to church (maybe less than he should). He didn't drink, he didn't smoke. He even tried to join up with the law. And of course, he helped his down-and-out cousin as much as he could, even if his mother advised against it.

He was a good boy, but he could be better. If he had been, he wouldn't be in this situation. He wouldn't be helping his cousin, 'Rocky', in his recently volunteered rum-running duties for the Lackadaisy speakeasy. He wouldn't be pinned down in some abandoned warehouse with two other lunatics. The Savoys, from Calvin's understanding, were two other hired guns from a competitor named Marigold. He didn't think of himself as a hired gun, but for the past ten minutes he might as well not have been any different.

What started as a quiet night of attempting to smuggle some hooch had become a stressful firefight. Mainly stressful for Rocky, the only one here not equipped with a firearm. Calvin too, but in a different way; as soon as the bullets started flying, his nerves quickly got the better of him. It made him quite the fiery and frightening foe, giving him an all-new demeanor that would unsettle anyone that knew him for the quiet and polite boy he usually was.

Rocky knew very well about this. In fact, he relied on it for situations exactly like this one. Not that he had intended for Calvin (or 'Freckle', as he would call him) to join him in this life, or expected his handiness with a firearm. But watching Freckle take shots with deadly accuracy, fangs bared, he knew he was in safe hands. "Attaboy, Freckle!" He cheered from behind concrete cover, earning a quick and sharp dart of the eyes from his cousin before he fired another shot.

On the other side of things, the Savoys were enjoying themselves without worry. They were a pair of siblings from the bayous and each of them thrived in this sort of chaos, as well as being rather deadly themselves. Nico, the slightly older brother with the brawn, was firing back with a revolver. Alternating with him was his sister, Serafine, thoroughly enjoying an automatic rifle. After finishing her latest burst she cackled, calling out towards her targets, "This is fun, petit fou! Nobody up here got fire like you."

She got no response from Freckle besides a loud shout and a bullet pinging near where she was. Nico chuckled, "Not so sure he's having fun like you." Privately, while she reloaded, he gestured towards his own revolver's now-empty cylinder. Out of reloads too. They hadn't exactly been conservative with the ammunition, especially Serafine. Of course, she reasoned that her gun had to sing, after all.

For his own part, Freckle wasn't doing so hot on ammo either. In fact, he went for another shot again and instead got a mere click from his gun. He growled and put it away, slinking back behind cover. They had been at this for too long, darting and weaving through the warehouse. It didn't help that he had to keep Rocky out of danger. As his mind started to race, Rocky piped up with, "Seems we've gotten all the lead out, cousin!" He peeked over the edge, catching a glimpse of Serafine. "And yet, our trigger-happy tireurs seem all too happy to continue!"

Freckle was catching his breath now, some semblance of normalcy returning to him. Especially the anxiety of the terribly dangerous situation they were in. Rocky crawled over and grabbed him by his arms, leaning in too close. "New idea! Let's split our delinquent duo up! I'll go this way, you go that way!"

Freckle frowned. "Rocky, I don't think--"

"Great!! Bonne chance!" The blue-clad cat scrambled to his feet and took off towards a dark corridor of the warehouse. Freckle watched as he went, stunned despite the fact that he should be used to it.

He peeked over the edge himself now, seeing the Savoys staring off towards where Rocky went. Might as well... he thought before leaping up and dashing away from where they were. This moment of surprise was their best chance to gain some ground. He heard them shouting some taunts behind him, but he just kept running. Where he was going, he had no idea.

As it turned out, busting through a door, he was heading outside. The cool night air made for a good refresher, though he knew he still had to run. Especially with the deep "Ooooh, where you at cher~?" echoing behind him. Nico. A moment of worry for Rocky crossed his mind, but he was wily. And Freckle had to take care of himself first. So he ran out into the field surrounding the warehouse, the cool night air providing slight and sobering comfort.

Ahead of him now, he saw a strip of trees. Glancing behind him, he saw Nico pop out from the door he exited and scan briefly before spotting him. That casual smile sent a chill down his spine as he started jogging after him. Freckle picked up the pace as best as he could, but he knew he couldn't outrun him forever. However, what he could do was climb. And so he did, the very second he reached a tree. He quickly started clambering up, nearly slipping before ending up on a moderately high and seemingly stable branch.

His pursuer caught up in short order. Nico stared up at the orange cat with an amused look. Certainly up too high to reach, but he wasn't going anywhere. "Seems our petit fou's become a petit squirrel!" He remarked as he considered his options. "Suppose I could wait for my sis to catch up, but... what's the fun in that?"

Freckle didn't say anything in response, just watching him with wide eyes and holding onto his branch. He wasn't sure what his plan was, besides staying up here forever. He wasn't exactly Tarzan if he wanted to escape that way. The branch he was on was thinner than he'd like, but he didn't think he could manage any higher.

Nico hummed a tune to himself, considering the tree. Then he just chuckled, moving to grab its trunk. "Shake a tree to get fruit, right?" Freckle had barely a moment's notice to tighten his grip before it shook back and forth. It wasn't a very sturdy tree, but the man below him was still, clearly, very strong. It creaked as it settled back into place, Freckle somehow still up there. Nico let out a single laugh, and went back to it. "Get you out of there one way or 'nother..."

The tree held out as long as it could, and so did Freckle. But there was finally a treacherous crack right below him, and his world shifted downwards. The branch didn't completely fall, but it was enough to send him plummeting down. Time almost seemed to freeze as he fell, staring right at the grinning man ready to catch him. He started to scream despite himself, shutting his eyes and holding his hands out to brace for whatever impact may or may not come.

As it turned out, there was a third option.

Freckle stopped very suddenly, gagging terribly, but still aimed down. He opened his eyes to find himself suspended in the air. No, that wasn't right. He was... on top of Nico? He was quickly corrected by the feeling of something wriggling in the back of his throat, and with a gag he swallowed, sinking an inch downwards. It shouldn't have been possible, but he couldn't deny what was happening. For some unholy reason, Freckle now had a mouthful of one big, burly cat.

He could hear some mutterings in his throat, and then hands started to blindly reach up to try and get him off. Freckle swatted them away automatically, in something of a panic. And he swallowed again. Involuntarily? He wasn't sure. This clearly had to be some sort of sin, what he was doing. He could hardly imagine what his mum would think. Was this gluttony? Something worse? And yet... If he just kept going, that would certainly be one way to deal with his problems.

No, this wasn't right. He didn't mean to swallow again, starting to pull in his shoulders and pin his arms to his side. Could he even do it? Some part of him wanted to see. Heh, imagine him struggling helplessly in my gut, all that muscle completely useless... Glk. No, no! That wasn't right. He was a person, not food! Even if this was an incredibly convenient way to get rid of him. Even if he did taste surprisingly good going down. Even if he would fill him up so nicely.

For his part, Nico was putting up about as good of a fight as he could manage from his awkward position. He stumbled around, trying to reach up and pull the other cat off him, even if he couldn't move his upper arms now. Everything was so tight around him he could barely think. The heat and wetness he was familiar with, but the pressure of the smaller cat actually swallowing him, he was not. He grunted, "You gon' hurt yourself, child." But no response came besides another gulp.

Freckle continued to swallow him down, despite his own internal conflict. Gravity was a great help, not to mention the automatic movements of his own body. Nico was so huge it was almost painful, but somehow he managed. Fortunately, it only became easier as he progressed. His mouth slid right over his chest, his abs, his... glutes (Freckle shuddered), and finally now, his legs. His center of balance was shifted now to his increasingly-distended belly, causing him to finally flump onto the ground.

Soon after, he slurped up the last of his former pursuer. He let out a heavy breath of relief and satisfaction now that he was finished. Turning to sit up, now he could assess the damage. His cream-colored belly was horribly huge, all lumpy and misshapen. Being upside-down when it started spared his vest from damage, although it was strained tightly at the top of his gut. Freckle looked around, as if someone might catch him in this indecency, and then unbuttoned it, allowing his body to relax that much more.

It would almost be peaceful, if not for the suddenly violent kick. A long bulge emerged from his side and retracted shortly afterwards, causing his stomach to groan. He doubled over for a moment and started to feel something come up: bbbBBBBRRRROooOOoOOOOAAAAArrrRRRRRRPPPPPppppp. Freckle covered his mouth right afterwards, feeling like he could hear it echo across the land. But the only person around was the one inside his stomach, causing it to be so noisy.

For his part, Nico was trying his best to do anything at all. Him being bigger than his predator just made everything that much tighter, though he tried his best to punch, kick, and elbow out. He was past amusement now, annoyed by his predicament. "When I get outta here, I swear, you gon' be dinner!" Despite this, he couldn't figure out a way out yet. The other cat was surprisingly resistant to his struggles so far. Of course, he didn't have much experience being inside stomachs like this, but still... he was sure he could find a way out.

Freckle prayed he didn't. Or, no, he shouldn't think that! He whined as Nico struggled so much in there, sending ripples and bulges all over his belly. The sight was almost worse than the actual sensation. The actual sensation... he couldn't decide if it was pleasurable or painful. Either way he groaned out, looking up to the sky. How in the world did he end up in this situation? Was he really going to just let this happen? He didn't like to admit or think about it, but... he had killed people before. But this felt different. It felt... too good.

Uproarious belches continued to escape his lips without his control, given his rowdy meal. He knew he shouldn't think of him like that, a whole other person, but... that's all he was now, wasn't he? It was inevitable. He wasn't going to let him go, even if he knew how to. And he didn't think Nico was going to get out on his own, despite his struggles. Freckle turned back to watching the lively fight happening inside him. Felt awful, amazing, and annoying all at once. He could actually feel his fur puffing up at that last one, a low growl developing in his throat. Then he pushed down, hard, into his own gut and roared, "GIVE IT A REST WILL YOU?!"

"AAAghhnn!" That actually hurt. Nico wasn't sure what exactly, but something hurt way more than it did a second ago. He waited a moment, but when he went to push against the stomach walls again, that pain flared right back up. "Hnnn... Seems you got some fight in you, boy!" His words came out a lot more confident than he felt.

Freckle let out a short laugh, fur all bristled as he clutched his gut in his hands. "I don't need to fight when you'rrrRRRRRRURRRRP trapped in there. All mine..." He could get used to this. He rubbed all across the tight, lumpy flesh of his belly, savoring the feeling of Nico slowly shifting around in there. Utterly at his mercy. All... no, no, this wasn't right! "I... I need to get out of here..." He started to try and stand, unsteadily.

Nico chuckled, "Seems you of two minds about this! How about you let me out and--"

"No, no, I--" The orange cat suddenly hiccuped as he approached a standing position, causing his gut to lurch back down. "Ooogh... I can't let you out..."

"No? Boy, you gonna have problems. One helluva mal au cœur if you don't get me out. If my sister finds you? I'll be the least of your problems." Nico shifted around some, mainly in resistance to the movements of stomach muscles. He always fancied himself the type that could wrestle a gator. Maybe even from the inside, if he had to. But here he was, in the gut of this little cat, struggling to accomplish much of anything.

Buuuuarp. "Ugh, criminy..." Leaning against the tree, Freckle weakly looked around, as if Serafine would pop out from thin air. He would definitely be in trouble if she did, but he didn't think she would be back. Certainly, chasing Rocky would keep her occupied a while. He let go of the tree and tried to take a step back towards their car, but instead he fell to the ground. His gut broke his fall, emitting a short shout. "S-Sorry..."

"Sorry?" Nico chuckled weakly, really hurting from the impact. "Can't believe I been eaten by the sorriest boy in St. Louis..."

Freckle moaned as he started to slowly get back up, holding his belly steady as he did. He didn't have anything he wanted to say to that. All he was thinking about was what he was going to do with the next... however long it took to break him down. A thought he shuddered at, but it was what was certainly going to happen. He glanced back at the tree. The trunk of it was thick enough that he wouldn't be seen from the other side of it, even with his belly slightly spilling off to the sides. Carefully, he slowly walked around the tree to the side facing away from the open field. He eased himself down to the ground afterwards, finally able to comfortably sit and lean his back against something.

Nico could feel him settling down, so he tried his best to disturb the moment by writhing around in there. Even if it hurt, even if it was pointless. The stomach walls held him so tight, trying to squeeze even further. Hot, humid, and soaking wet, he almost felt like he was at home... if not for the loud, idle growling around him reminding him of his imminent fate. He felt a hand land on his head through flesh and a lazy burp escape his predator's lips. Muffled, "Just give up already..."

"I-I've still got fight left in me..." Freckle groaned at that. He was in for a long night. But it wasn't all bad. Even if this was... very sinful, he was sure, it felt... good. Especially now that Nico was weakening and he was nearly able to relax. His stomach ached, but it made his rubbing of his own gut just feel that much better. At least this way, we don't have to hide a body... He shivered, still unbelieving he could think so callously about this. Gunfights were (usually) quick and the adrenaline kept him frantic the whole time. But this was slow. And he was very aware of every passing moment.

For Nico, those moments were slipping away. He found himself nodding off, light-headed, despite the pain flaring throughout his body. He knew he had to stay awake until rescue came, but his body just wasn't built for this. Strong as he was, muscle didn't matter inside the stomach. Just more meat to be slowly digested. Nico mumbled something incomprehensible, his tone both amused and annoyed.

Minutes passed by slowly for Freckle, at least at first. He could still so sensitively feel every subtle shift from his meal. But after some time, those stopped. After a few minutes he poked his own gut, which simply made a drawn-out gurgle in response. He slumped back and let out a sigh of relief that evolved into one last boooouuurrrp. Patting his belly lightly, now he felt like he could really relax. The night was quiet outside of his own stomach. It felt... nice. Satisfying. He yawned and started to doze. Hopefully he'll be gone by morning...

*/^\*

The night passed quickly. Practically dreamless outside of hazy feelings of guilt, anxiety, and pleasure, not to mention the intermittent discomfort as his gut worked hard. Freckle woke up to a ray of light beaming into his eye, causing him to grumble and tilt away. A deep burp from the back of his throat forced its way out as he shifted, his stomach grumbling as well. He leaned his head back, slowly blinking up at the canopy and the orange light beyond it. He let out a sigh, not looking forward to whatever was to come next.

Now he turned his head back down, looking at his gut. It sagged now, no longer the tight, taut thing it was hours ago. It was still practically the same size, even misshapen in a way that vaguely suggested the silhouette of a person. Freckle groaned loudly. "How long is it goin' to take to get rid of all of this...?" He didn't want to imagine what his mother would say, or the lies he'd have to make up. He almost preferred the simple mortal danger of a gunfight to this building anxiety.

However, it was all broken by an echoing yell. "OH FREEEEE~CKLE! Come out, come out, for I have lost my devilish tail!"

There was only one person with that voice, let alone that style of speech that he knew. Rocky was looking for him. He should feel relieved, but all he could think of was his grotesquely large gut in his lap. Still very suspiciously shaped. Pressing a hand into his gut, he could feel that it was mostly soft, soupy, so maybe... He slapped the sides of it, which rippled across his flesh. The shapes melted away instantaneously, making his belly a simple sagging dome. And then he let out a loud BUUUUWWWWOOOORRRRRAAAPPPP, scaring some birds out of the nearby trees.

There was a pause before he heard Rocky chuckle. "Cousin? Is that you with the euphonic eructation?"

Freckle knew he couldn't hide it anymore so he just said, "Y-Yes..."

The sound of his footsteps grew ever closer until suddenly Rocky popped out to his side. "Freckle! My word, you've... grown!" He straightened up, scanning up and down his body with an expression varying between awe and amusement.

For that matter, Rocky was more ragged-looking, clearly having been running around for a while. Rather matter-of-factly, Freckle nodded towards the ripped left sleeve and said, "You tore your jacket..."

Rocky's eyes perked back up, confused for a moment. Then they darted towards his sleeve and he laughed, grabbing it. "Ah, had to get through some tight squeezes! Not all of me emerged unscathed, sadly. But what about you?" He gestured broadly and said, "You look like you've emptied a silo! Or perhaps had a touch of lycanthropy?"

He looked down now, at his arms and chest. He now realized that despite the ongoing processing of his meal, some of it had already been redistributed. His upper arms had caused his sleeves to start bursting, furry flab poking through. His chest too, hefty breasts laid where once was some muscle definition. Freckle turned to the sky. "AaaaaauuuUUUUGGH! Mum is going to kill me..."

"Aw, don't you worry cousin!" Rocky chuckled, tapping the side of his gut with his shoe. "I'm sure dear ol' Aunt Nina wouldn't mind seeing some meat on your bones! Always been a skinny little beanpole. Of course, this is a lot of meat, but... still!"

Somehow, Freckle did not feel comforted. He just stared solemnly at his gut, gently gurgling back at him.

Rocky crouched down and looked at his gut as well. "I must say, I've never seen someone so... corpulent!" He couldn't help but his paws on it, curiously pressing it around and watching it deform under his pressure.

"Uuuoorrrp... Ugh, Rocky, stop."

"But this is a once in a lifetime experience! I must know, how did you even indulge this much in one night, let alone while being chased by that behemoth?" Freckle declined to answer, trying to stifle another burp from his cousin's continued inspection. Rocky suddenly moved his hands to below the paunch, grunting with some effort as he lifted it. "Oh dear, even your pants have fallen victim to your newly titanic thighs!"

Freckle growled lightly. "Rocky, enough!" He pushed his cousin's shoulders back, causing his belly to quickly drop back into his lap. Immediately, he regretted it. Freckle's cheeks bulged as he tried to stop something from coming up, but regardless came a loud BUUUUUUUWWWAAAAARRRRP right in Rocky's face, punctuated by the ejection of a skull. It bounced slightly before coming to a rest right atop of Freckle's massive midsection.

For a moment, both of them just stared at it. Freckle couldn't believe what he was staring at. He knew what his stomach would do, but didn't expect to actually see the results. It was mostly clean, besides some white fur and acid staining. The image of what the rest of him must look like (although, probably not like much of anything) briefly flickered through his head. His train of thought was broken when Rocky picked up the skull.

Looking up again, he could see that Rocky wasn't very horrified at all, or if he was, it was buried. No, his cousin was smiling, lifting it to inspect it in the sunlight. He presented it to the sky and then dramatically moved his other hand to his chest and cried out, "Alas, poor Nico!" Freckle puffed up at that, but Rocky just turned to him and continued, "I didn't think you had it in you! Well, ha, not this literally. I must say, crafty way to get rid of an adversary! Like a pig, but much more clever. How did he feel? How did he taste?"

Freckle didn't want to answer either of those questions, especially with the answer to both being 'good'. He just looked back down at his belly, resting a hand on it.

"Come on, cheer up, cousin! This is a gateway to a whole new world of efficient elimination. Just think, with this, Miss M could be freed from her competition, and--"

Before he could finish that thought, Freckle suddenly charged up just enough to knock Rocky down, pinning him under his belly and knocking the skull away. They were almost face-to-face, and Freckle's expression had grown intense. Teeth bared and eyes sharp, he growled out, "You can't tell ANYOooooouuurrrp. Anyone. I mean it, Rocky."

Rocky laughed nervously. "Of course not! I'm no blabbermouth... well, not in that way! My lips are sealed. Although I imagine Miss Pepper will have plenty of qu--"

"ANYONE, Rocky. Or else." He didn't really mean anything by that, of course. Rocky was family, and his closest friend despite everything. But his stomach rumbled between them.

Rocky's mouth became a thin line and he just nodded. "Mhm! Message received!"

Freckle nodded back and slowly pushed himself back up. Rocky scrambled up from under him, dusting off his suit and gathering himself. He extended a hand towards his chunky cousin and said, "Help lug you back to the car? You seem like you could use it, given the hundred extra pounds hanging off your middle there." Freckle took his hand, getting pulled to his feet for the first time in a while. Fortunately, it felt a bit easier now. The weight being slowly redistributed across him seemed to make him sturdier. Still, he had an arm draped over Rocky's shoulders.

Rocky couldn't help but chuckle again as they started walking back slowly, Freckle's belly sloshing heavily from side to side. He said, "You know, Miss Ivy may like the larger caboose back--" Freckle smacked him in the back of the head. "Hey, ow! Is that any way to treat your rescuer?"

"I think this," he patted his stomach, "makes me the one who rescued you."

"A fair point, my carnivorous companion! Maybe you can 'rescue' me again if that vixen finds us."

Freckle groaned. "I don't think I really want to do this again."

Rocky just laughed, not paying any mind to the anxiety lingering around his cousin. And despite those negative thoughts, Freckle wasn't sure he meant it. It still felt good, even now. Even if he dreaded explaining it, even if it was probably a greater sin than simple shooting. He felt... satisfied. His stomach gurgled with agreement as they walked back to the car.