Marcus was accustomed to having his prey act a certain way. A certain rhythm existed to his mealtimes, a predictable series of events that almost always happened the same way and in the same order. The chorus of the hunt; a comforting, well-known song of action that played as the background to his life.

Which was why the brightly-colored vixen had surprised him so much by deviating from it.

It had started out as it normally did. He passed his prey on the street, and the message came from below: “I want her.” In no uncertain terms, his lower half informed him that he wanted this unusual female, with her blue and yellow fur and multitude of tails, on the inside of his fur, and soon. So he had started tailing her, waiting until the opportune moment to grab her and drag her into a nearby alley, where he could conduct his business undisturbed.

It was at this point that she had diverged from the usual script. When he informed her of his intentions, rather than screaming, fighting, or trying to escape, she had asked if he could go into more detail. He had obliged, explaining that his stomach wanted her very badly, and that he would be placing her inside it soon; that his belly would then fill with acid, claiming her and making her a part of him. She seemed particularly excited about that aspect, “being a part of him,” and had dwelled on it for several minutes, lowering herself to her knees to reach under him and rub his rumbling belly while they talked.

While this was all an odd variation on the normal course of events, his lower half was enjoying the attention, so he had decided to roll with it. He allowed the female to rub him for a few minutes, then strip off her clothes before offering herself up to be devoured. He had done so slowly, taking his time and savoring her rather unique flavor before he finished swallowing her down and sending her to his belly. Now she was continuing her massage, but from the inside, a sensation which his lower half seemed to enjoy quite a bit. Satisfied, he decided to head for home to relax and more fully enjoy the attention.

It was not until several days later, once his stomach had finished its work turning her into an extra layer of fat, that he found one more deviation to the script: a mysterious tattoo that appeared on his side. The tattoo would remain with him for a while, and he could still feel her presence; at least for now, she truly belonged to him.

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