Was in a mood to write some indulgent casual permavore, so I decided to feed my owl, Lane. Enjoy :3

Lane sets his sights on a stuffed mouse late at night in the frat house...

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Lane’s Stuffed Mouse Feast
By: Indi

It was a lazy Saturday night at the frat house. Most of the members were away on a trip, while others were out at bars or parties. Lane had chosen to stay in, though. The hefty owl had been out all the previous weekend, and needed a break from all the drinking and loud music. And maybe all the eating as well. As he waddled through the quiet frat house he gave his doughy belly a squeeze, feeling the pudge beneath the feathers. He’d plumped up quite a bit that month, but not from pigging out at the dining hall or on fast food. No, he’d simply eaten his fair share of college students.

Lane couldn’t help that he found others utterly delicious, or that he only truly felt full with someone squirming in his gut. College had proven to be a wonderful buffet, filled with fattening peers...and the occasional juicy professor. A rarer treat, of course. Joining a frat had only made him more ravenous.

When the owl had left his room he’d been feeling slightly peckish. As he reached the second floor, he was getting hunger pains. And by the time he’d waddled off the last creaking step to the main floor, he felt hungry enough to clear out the pantry.

“Shame there aren’t any pledges around.” Lane grabbed his belly in both talons and gave it a wobble. “Cause this tank could really use one. Or two.” He chuckled quietly to himself.

“Bworrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrp!!”

The loud, yet somewhat distant belch immediately caught Lane’s attention. He looked down the hallway that led to the game room.

“Urrrrrp!”

Much fainter, yet definitely another belch. Curiosity got the better of the hungry owl, and he headed to the game room instead of the kitchen.

Upon entering the room, Lane immediately spotted the source of the burping. A short mouse was sprawled on a recliner, with a large, round belly filling his lap. TV trays to his left and right had empty pizza boxes, while dozens more lay piled upon the floor around them. There were bottles of soda as well, most empty. A small party worth of food, and it’d been devoured by a lone mouse.

“Eating your body-weight in food again…” Lane checked the mouse’s neck, seeing that the collar around it was light pink. “Zak?” There were a pair of mouse twins in the frat, and the only reliable way to tell them apart was their preferential colors in clothing. Aside from when one got a lot fatter than the other, of course.

“Swim season’s over, which means I can finally stop starving myself and—braaaaaaap—eat a real meal!” Zak leaned back in the recliner and stuck out his gut, rubbing it with both paws. “Gotta make sure I’m in peak form for glutting on all the nerds who stress-gain during finals week.”

Lane nodded. The mouse was short—not even five feet tall—but he’d never had trouble eating people far larger than him. Though he usually needed help lugging his massive gut back to the frat. His round, plump, delectable gut. Lane’s stomach was rumbling. Mice were one of his favorite foods, and Zak was quickly looking irresistible. The two weren’t that close, and the longer Lane stared at Zak’s belly, the more he began to see him as a filling meal rather than a frat brother.

There was only food on Lane’s mind as he headed towards the recliner and the stuffed mouse atop it. Zak was too happily engorged to realize he was in danger, more interested in seeing if any pizza had survived, his middle wobbling as he did. It took every ounce of strength in Lane’s body to resist leaping at the mouse and scarfing him down right then. But no, it was important to have fun with a meal.

“Amazing how you can ruin your swimmer’s bod in barely a night,” Lane said, eying up the mouse’s gut.

“Pfft, this is nothing! Last year I managed to cram a pair of wrestlers into my stomach at the party the night we won state. Tripled in size by next morning.” Zak grinned, smugly.

“But you probably couldn’t waddle away from that snack right away, could you?” Lane asked. He was quietly nudging empty boxes away, making room around the recliner.

“Course not! Didn’t matter with the rest of the team there to carry me back. Least the ones who weren’t dumb enough to get ate beforehand,” Zak said with a snicker. He shifted a bit in his recliner, wincing as his gut rolled a little. “Actually, I might’ve snacked a bit harder than I thought. You mind helping me up so I can waddle back to my room? Bro wanted to play games when he gets back, and I wanted to grab my lucky horseshoe, the one I belched up after eating my roommate freshman year.”

“I could always carry you,” Lane said.

“Dude, do you even lift enough to carry me all the way up there?” Zak laughed.

“Who said anything about carrying you in my arms?”

The owl smiled wide, and Zak’s grin faded some. He was just about to slip out of the recliner when there was a crack and a hiss, and one of the remaining two liters of soda was pressed against his lips. The bottle had been shaken up, and the contents gushed into his mouth and down his throat, causing his middle to swell instantly. Zak flailed as he was filled with soda, paws smacking uselessly against the bottle and Lane’s talons. In seconds the bottle was empty and tossed aside, prompting a thunderous belch from Zak.

“What the hell!” Zak yelled. He tried to sit up, but the weight of his gut was simply too much for the short mouse. A firm talon pressed into his belly, forcing out another burp and pinning him down further.

“Sorry, dude, but I am just really craving mouse all of a sudden. Would’ve loved to taste-test ya at your biggest, but I feel you’ve been stuffed well enough to be a worthwhile meal as-is.” Lane squeezed Zak’s belly, feeling the mouse squirm. “And no hard feelings, right? We’re all meant to get eaten eventually, after all~”

“I’m not a damned snack!” Zak insisted, wiggling as hard as he could. All he managed to do was tire himself and burp a lot, though.

“Yeah, you’re most of a full-course!”

“That’s not what I—urrrp—meant! This is such a dick move!”

“Oh don’t be a sore sport just because you didn’t think about how tasty you’d look gorging in the open like this.” Lane pressed a little harder. “You’d do the same if you found a stuffed frosh just laying around.”

Zak scowled, unable to deny the truth. He couldn’t believe he’d let his guard down just because most of the frat was out. But he wasn’t going to just give up and happily slide down his treacherous friend’s throat. Even stuffed he still had some pride. “Just order a delivery guy! Or a repair guy! Anyone else, come on!” The recliner lurched, and Zak nearly managed to toppled it over, but Lane quickly held it back.

Lane pulled back on the recliner’s lever, causing it to flatten out backwards. Zak yelped and belched, his gut wobbling wildly as he found himself staring at the ceiling. Seconds later he felt talons on his side, pushing him over. The mouse’s stuffed middle made rolling him over difficult, but Lane managed it eventually, much to his edible buddy’s frustration.

Zak did everything he could to wiggle and slide and lurch away, but time and time again he was pulled back into place. Talons groped his taut sides and butt, moving down until they’d latched onto his ankles, holding him in place.

“Been nice knowing ya, Zak, but I just think you’ll look better on my belly and ass!”

“Ugh, you’re more pig than owl, you ass!” Zak fumed, reaching forwards with his paws. He felt his footpaws slide across a tongue and push into the back of Lane’s throat, the first gulp pulling him in. More followed, the mouse being steadily swallowed whole. He was overwhelmed by panic and fury, embarrassed by the idea of just being spontaneously eaten due to bad luck. He wouldn’t even be remembered going out in a high stakes bet or gobbled up by a rival swimmer. It’d just be “a fat bird got hungry”.

Lane greedily pulled more of his meal in, closing in on the mouse’s rump and stuffed middle. He savored the taste where he could, but the ravenous need to feed was making it hard to take things slow. That and Zak’s continued resistance. Unsurprisingly the mouse wasn’t eager to get digested. His persistence was admirable, but not likely to succeed.

“Let me go! You’re gonna have to clean up my mess if you eat me, you fat feathered jerk!” Zak felt the beak wrapping around his legs. He blindly swatted at Lane’s face on instinct, learning too late he’d made a mistake when his paws were grabbed. He twisted hard, but they were gradually fed right into the owl’s maw, essentially ending any hope he had left of freeing himself. “Damn it! Damn it! Damn it!”

Lane let out a muffled chuckle as his prey threw a fit. They were starting to realize the inevitable, that they were doomed to become food. Zak’s belly would be the hardest part to swallow, so Lane decided to enlist the aid of gravity. He grasped the mouse’s gut with his talons and lifted.

Slowly Zak felt himself leaving the recliner, his gut bouncing beneath him. He squirmed fiercely, but Lane kept his balance. As he was angled upward he felt the owl’s beak stretch around his round belly. Below he could see Lane’s own middle swelling out from under his purple hoodie. He saw the bulges his kicks made, and gulped. He really was going to end up as bird pudge for good.

Once Zak was vertical, he began to slide. It was like entering a tight pipe, or a sleeping bag with no end. “Man, eat someone else, please!” He hated being reduced to begging. He’d always ignored that from the dorks he’d stuffed himself with, even made fun of friends doing the same when they were caught and ate. Zak had never really considered the possibility he’d get eaten himself, but he’d always assumed he’d be defiant in the end, or mock the pred every inch of the way. But instead he just wanted a miracle to happen so he wouldn’t end up in the pit of Lane’s stomach. “This blows!”

The mouse winced as he felt his chest and shoulders slipping past Lane’s beak, his neck following after. His head was partially swallowed, beak opened wide around him like a cave. Suddenly the gulps ceased. He tried not to move, fearful a single wiggle would send him the rest of the way down. He didn’t know why Lane had stopped eating him. The owl was moving, slowly, towards the side of the recliner. He watched as Lane carefully bent down and grabbed a two-liter, shaking it hard.

“W-Wait, don’t you—mmph—don’t you dare!” Zak whined. He saw the bottle being raised towards him, as if Lane was going to chug it. One talon gripped the cap and spun it right off, the other shoved it forwards, into Zak’s mouth. His cheeks puffed as soda rushed in, and deep down in Lane’s belly he felt his gut swelling again. The damn owl had just wanted to plump him up further!

In a flash the bottle was emptied into Zak, then pulled back. “You’re the—bworrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrp!!” The humiliated mouse’s rant was silenced by a belch, and then again by Lane simply tilting his head up and closing his beak shut.

There was a hearty gulp, and seconds later Lane’s bulging belly bounced as Zak dropped fully into it. He thumped his gut with a talon hard, provoking a tremendous burp of his own. “God, that’s the best meal I’ve had in weeks!” Lane swooned, cradling his gut in his talons. Zak was squirming within, the engorged mouse barely able to do much aside from wiggle and wobble. It felt so good, having his stomach stretch and shake. He was in pure bliss.

“Burp! Me! Out!” Zak’s rage was muffled by fat and feathers.

“The only thing I’ll be burping out is your collar dude!” Lane laughed. “And I guess your skull. Maybe a stained shirt. Man, you’re gonna give me so many fun little trophies. Just gotta store the bulk of you as fat, first, shortstack~”

“Ugh, I hope my bro eats you, tubbo!”

“Not like he’ll ever know I’m the one who ate you. I haven’t seen you all day, I was too busy eating pizza and a delivery driver. You probably ended up in the belly of a jogger while going on a beer run, or scooped up by the mailman.” Lane was massaging his belly, pressing back against every bulge his meal made. “And when he’s plumped up nicely I’ll make sure he joins you on my waistline. Gotta compare tastes, after all.”

Zak hated the fact that thinking about his twin getting chumped made him feel a bit better. At least then he might get remembered in stories Lane told about the twin mice he ate. With how exhausted he was becoming, that was beginning to feel like the best he could hope for. “Knew I should’ve...eaten you at the...at the pool party last year…”

Lane’s stomach calmed down some, though there was still frequent shifting from within. The churning would begin soon, Zak nothing more than food that could mumble. He gleefully waddled towards a couch, one that didn’t look like it’d collapse beneath his bulk. His massive belly jiggled as he settled in. Zak had been mostly helpless, but he’d been rowdy as well, and gorging on him had been somewhat tiring. Lane knew there were risks in snoozing out in the open while stuffed—his delicious dinner was proof enough of that. Still, he would probably be too fat for a casual meal, and there weren’t enough ambitious gluttons left in the frat house that night to worry about. He’d just have to hope he didn’t wake up somewhere warm and cramped.

Lane closed his eyes, a grin on his face as he slowly dozed off. His belly wobbled gently, first from Zak’s squirms, then from the gurgling of digestion. Just another ravenous night at a frat house.