Walking the dog 4: Tracking Hank’s next dump
(vore, digestion, disposal)
 
 
Lucy felt a guilty warmth in her lower belly as she walked her massive great dane past various missing pet posters towards a further away part of town she and her dog rarely visited. She knew exactly where a few of the missing cats and bunnies and hamsters were, given how often she had “Lost grip” of Hank’s leash right before he jumped someone’s garden fence. The memories of how she had heard the squeaks or meows of his prey rapidly getting muffled among Hank’s noisy swallows and of how wet she had gotten whenever he reemerged from someone’s yard with a noisy bulge in his middle… the memories alone were enough to make her nipples imprint through her top even now. She had to shake off a daydreaming trance when she remembered the big dog walking beside her was passing some animals through his bowls right now. She had not seen what he had consumed on his last hunt but whatever it used to be it was going to come back out soon. Only then would she find out if he had eaten someone's pet again or something else. In any case, any evidence was going to be crapped out far from home, which was probably for the better.
The lynx girl walked past the area her bunny boyfriend and his pet anaconda inhabited and surely enough the missing pet posters became fewer but more noticeable. Someone had come home from a vacation and the only thing remaining of their bull dog was a bleached collar chained to a dog house in their yard. Lucy remembered how soft Matilda, the serpentine culprit, had become after that one.
 
A while later the houses became bigger, the parked cars more expensive until it was all single family homes with double and triple garages and fancy, well maintained lawns. No missing pet posters -yet-.
“You are going to poop like a king today.” she snickered before Hank started to tug on his leash. The dog was strong enough to drag her wherever he wanted but he opted to just give firm tugs and make cute needy sounds as if he was being deprived of a well deserved snack. As if his drooping stomach had not pressed on Lucy’s back two days ago when he had ravaged her -by now- well trained feline pussy after a successful hunt.
“Hank, they might have cameras around here.” she whispered as if she was afraid of being overheard. But then her dog turned his head around and when she looked at the sad, cute face her serial pet-eater was making, her heart nearly broke.
“Fine, but only one!” she said and then said “Get back here!” after dropping the leash, giving Hank the sign to go on a hunt. Within a blink the loop of the red leash sailing over a shrub as tall as her, was the last Lucy saw of her dog. She held her breath and rubbed her thighs together as she waited for any sound clue of what was happening on the prey side of that wall of shrubs.
 
Hank landed with a soft thud on the lush, freshly mowed grass on the other side. He could feel the tug of numerous entirely digested snacks which weighed down his guts as he landed, but he was on a mission to give his digestive tract a fresh inhabitant. His keen nose made good on its promise when he spotted a big orange cat sunning itself on a wooden sunbed in the middle of the lawn. With an eagerly wagging tail he walked over to the sleeping feline and already approached it so he could engulf his prey head first. The cat only woke up when the massive dog’s gaping jaws cut out the warming sunlight. Its startled outcry was muffled instantly as Hank’s jaws engulfed the chubby animal halfway. As he lifted his head, he guessed this cat was in the six kilo ballpark, certainly on the heavier side of things. Luckily fat was fairly malleable and so was his exceedingly well trained digestive tract, as he demonstrated to the feverishly struggling cat about to go on a long tour of it. As the now bushed up tail of the orange furred snack moved closer to his gaping, lunging jaws and a rewarding stretching sensation descended his throat, Hank could already smell Lucy’s arousal. He knew the intermittent sounds of his food’s yowls whenever his jaws parted to quickly engulf even more of his prey were driving her into a horny frenzy. He already knew he was going to be allowed to empty his drooping balls into his owner as soon as they were back home. If she could stay off his junk for that long.
 
For the cat, things looked a lot more bleak. Or pink and slimy. It was being tossed and pulled into Hank’s rank, slimy gullet, forced under his custom made, stretchy collar and through a firm sphincter until it came to rest in the sweltering, acid drooling, slimy heat of his stomach. The feline tried to struggle but a veritable mountain of canine flesh was pushing back on it from all sides and as soon as Hank had concluded his meal, the cat was being jostled about as the dog ran back to his owner. Gravity ceased to exist in the wet darkness of the hovering stomach for half a second as the predator lept back over the shrubs, leaving his depleted hunting grounds behind. With a jolt and a palpable droop, the stomach braked the cat one more and things grew a bit calmer. The desperate feline felt a distinct firmness on one side of the stomach and heard a thumping heart and fast panting on the other.
 
“Good boy. So quick.” Lucy almost moaned as she leaned down to pat her dog’s freshly filled belly. “That was a big one.” she added, biting her lips but failing to suppress a moan this time as Hank’s snout vanished under her skirt for a second to confirm she had already utterly soaked her panties during his quick snacking session. However with a big feline meal stowed in his bloated stomach, his insides were a little cramped and the pressure he had already felt before had turned into discomfort. Luckily the dog had no concept of shame and instead pulled back from teasing his mistress and went right to letting go of the used up spoils from his last hunt.
 
The cat did not know, Lucy did not know, but the chunky prey trying in utter despair to save itself from being digested alive, put enough pressure on Hank’s insides to convince the great dane it was time to take a big fat dump. Lucy gasped as he crouched down and did the same to get a better view. Hank was shitting out god knows what right as his new meal was still visibly kicking in his stomach. The only thing Lucy regretted was that the sun was out and she could be caught fingering her aching pussy to that view, so she decided to chew her claws instead just to make sure her fingers remained up. On the inside, the cat was getting squeezed from all sides as the large dog voided his bowels. In short periods the pressure increased, marinating the feline in fresh acids, before letting go and then repeating the motion, pressing out one log each time. As time passed on the brown pile under the crouching dog grew to an ungodly size, things got a bit more roomy for the none the less and righteously terrified digestee.
The bipedal lynx however was on the brink of a hands free orgasm when Hank’s elastic tailhole widened more than before. There were some claws and teeth from various meals in there. Crumbled feathers, some beaks, and fur her expert eye identified as that of a grey cat and some other that would fit on a squirrel. But then a
Dark plasticy collar started to squeeze out. A purple, utterly shit clogged bell poked out of the soft waste in one place as an unusually large, collar-reinforced log emerged from her pet dog. The collar was still closed of course, telling the aroused lynx the obvious: Hank had devoured its wearer and then digested it out of it. Now it was the crown jewel of a multi species based pile of dog shit, adorning the sidewalk of the fancy part of town.
“Let’s hurry home, Hank. You have no idea how needy you made me.”
 
 
Two hours later Lucy was laying on her back, her head on Hank’s shoulder, her dreamy gaze and gently stroking hand on his softly swollen belly. The Lynx was able to move again, half an hour after Hank’s knot had shrunken back out of her. The towel under her had soaked up a lot of the canine’s excess mess, but still she had put a slightly smaller toy version of hank’s cock into her pleasantly bruised pussy just in case she had to get up, since she did not want to scrub dog semen off the floor -again-. She was just snuggling with her good boy, mesmerised by the soft gurgling noises of his stomach pumping fresh pet-cat-smoothie into his thirsty intestines when the doorbell rang.
“See? This is why I have a dildo version of you.” she groaned and gave Hank’s stomach one last kiss, clenching on rubber Hank when she realised the cat was already losing shape entirely. Lucy cursed inwardly and quickly clipped her skirt back on as to hide the dried mess Hank had left all over her thighs and then scampered to the door. She was prepared to be annoying to some delivery guy but instead there was a well groomed antelope woman whose dress probably cost more than what Lucy’s temp job threw off in a month.
“Can I help you?” the feline asked, inwardly praising the skies the stranger was no keen predator and probably unable to determine why she was engulfed in the scent of canine virility.
The antelope held out her phone and showed Lucy some kind of map with a blinking dot labelled “Mr. Whiskers.”
Lucy bit her tongue and felt excess lynx honey drool past rubber Hank’s knot when she realised that this was a pet tracker and that she had just learned the name of the thick slurry oozing through her dog’s intestines.
“My pet is here. At least my app says it is at this address.” she said in some distress. The number of apartments stacked on the same coordinates and the uncertainty this provided was obviously the reason she was not throwing a tantrum in Lucy’s face. But the lynx had more residual afterglow than brains at this moment and ruined her chance to lie.
“Whiskers is probably inside my dog right now. He tore free during walkies today and came back with a noisy stomach.”
The antelope’s chin dropped and as Lucy’s nipples got once more ready to cut glass, the Lynx realised she just discovered a new kink.
“I am terribly sorry for your loss. Hank does this from time to time. If you give me your number I will tell you once he lets him back out. Those collars must be expensive.”
The antelope’s jaw dropped and showed signs of reaching the ground when a huge great dane padded up behind Lucy, looking as cute as could be, nuzzling into his owner’s hips and getting well appreciated head pats. While turning her pet cat into a steaming pile of shit, just under his silky brown fur.