A Predator’s Proper Place

By Bianchi

A gift for wasdexdee

Art Courtesy of Maxine Dragon



Given his size, and tendency to be baked around the clock, Hayze wasn’t exactly a picky eater. Takeout, homecooked feasts, piles of processed snacks, or an eager preyboy who fell under the spell of his manipulative musk…It didn’t really matter. All were equally welcome, so long as they filled up his gut and added to his rather substantial frame.

But there was one type of meal that truly stood out for the gluttonous skunk.

Other predators.

To the insatiable skunk, there was nothing more delicious, nothing more prime than a meal who was unaware that he would ever become one. A meal stuffed and fattened on the meat of a dozen other simpering, begging preythings; like an oblivious Foie gras, prepping itself as an unwitting delicacy.

And what a delicacy Bianchi turned out to be.

What started as an idle conversation amongst voracious peers at a local party—nothing more than two dominant personalities bumping into each other at the punch bowl, swapping “war stories” and a few hearty laughs over their shared passion of consumption—quickly turned into a friendship. A friendship, Hayze knew in his heart, his belly, and his loins, could never remain simply that once he heard tale after tale of the donkey’s voracious conquests and overt dominance.

As the months went on, distance between the two of them on a shared couch or bench would gradually shrink as Hayze moved closer to loom over the smaller donkey and make him aware of his smaller stature. Idle walks in public would find the skunk placing his gurgling, over-stuffed belly an inch or two closer to the shorter donkey’s muzzle as they walked side-by-side, reminding the hungry donkey that his own gut seemed inconsequential in comparison.

As a true alpha-predator, Hayze had known his entire life that the only thing that separated the willing belly fodder from the unwilling was time. Everyone was meat for him, they just didn’t know it yet; as Bianchi was soon to learn.

It started late one night, as it always does, with “The look.” That quick, surreptitious glance every “predator” eventually gives the alpha skunk in time. It was The Look that informed Hayze that his methods had finally paid off, and the spark of truth has been ignited in his victim…

…The truth that they were food, and the skunk was very hungry.

“Mmmm, like what you see, snackdonk?” Hayze said, scratching at his fat belly, the heady gurgle of his gut portending his intentions.

Bianchi’s heart raced, it was as if the fleeting thought of preyish submission that flashed in his mind had been plucked from the ether itself.

“I…I….” the donkey stammered, caught completely off-guard by the skunk’s sudden forwardness.

Hayze slid across the couch and climbed onto the stuttering donkey, a massive, knowing grin on his face.

“What’s the matter, pudgy morsel? Cat got your tongue?”

Hayze moved his muzzle close, the donkey’s lower lip quivering as he approached.

“Or should I say, skunk?”

Hayze locked lips with Bianchi, drawing the trembling equine into a deep kiss.

Tongues filled muzzles as Hayze pressed deep into Bianchi’s throat, his dominance smug and effortless as the donkey let out a muffled whimper, clearly enthralled.

Bianchi’s taste was marvelous; the sweet succor of haughty dominant turned mewling, submissive plaything added that subtle, unmistakable flavor that Hayze craved more than anything else as he rolled the donkey to the floor.

Hayze’s musk glands--flared with lust for a meal long in the making--filled the room with his dank odor. The skunk’s powerful scent was an evolved predatory tactic, capable of dulling the minds of any panicking or resisting meals he came across, though Hayze was sure the moaning donkey needed little assistance in that regard.

Breaking the kiss, Hayze slid up the donkey’s shirt, smirking at the jiggle of Bianchi’s potbelly before moving his eager paws down to his belt and undoing the zipper and fly.

“Mmmm, you’ve plumped up so much since I’ve met you,” Hayze teased, giving the donkey’s meaty love handles a squeeze. “You knew I liked my meals thick, didn’t you?”

Hayze couldn’t see Bianchi’s shameful, admitting blush as he tugged at the donkey’s wide, stretch-denim jeans; but he knew it was there. Months of deft seduction made Bianchi’s every fidget, tick and unwitting gaze an open book for the skunk, and he knew every word on the page before the donk did.

Globs of drool dripped and poured from Hayze’s salivating muzzle as he peeled the pants from Bianchi’s enormous, pear-shaped hips; the skunk’s gaze a bonfire of lust as he craved to feel his throat stretch and bloat around the donkey’s bulky voluptuousness.

Months of cultivated kindness gave way to narcissism, and self-control lost quarter to gluttony as Bianchi laid naked before Hayze. No more need to be calm and understanding of his equine friend’s autonomy and desires; there was no more need for such frivolities. The donkey was his now. His to command, his to control, and his to consume.

“Feel free to moan or cry out on your way down,” Hayze said, sliding down to Bianchi’s hooves. “You wouldn’t be the first former predator to do so.”

With a blackhole of hunger in his gut, Hayze engulfed Bianchi’s hooves and made short work of enveloping his taut calves before slathering his greedy muzzle over the bloated, rotund beachballs the donkey had for an ass.

Hayze’s eyes fluttered and rolled back in bliss as his maw stretched and slobbered over the hips he’d drooled over just moments ago. The divine stretch in Hayze’s throat was beyond the capture of words as the donkey’s rubenesque hips were ruthlessly engulfed and crammed into a gullet that would not be denied. Every curve, bump, and bulge of the donkey’s suety form was palpable to the skunk’s keen muzzle, the flavorful pallet of the pudgy donk’s body a delicious reward for his diligent patience in acquiring such a hearty meal.

Packed into Hayze’s guts with shocking speed, Bianchi’s considerable carriage found itself engulfed to the waist, a moaning whimper impossible for him to stifle as the skunk ravenously swallowed up to his chest.

Hayze fell onto his expanding belly, proudly using the donkey’s substantial form that was rounding out his gut as a shelf to relax upon. Rubbing his distended midsection, Hayze kneaded Bianchi’s plump belly with his tongue; the donkey’s salty, masculine flavor deliciously coating his eager taste buds. Bianchi moaned and bucked as he was savored like a premium cut of steak, his face flush and huffing as more of him was dumped into the hot, acidic chamber of Hayze’s squelching, burbling belly.

With ears folded back and the hot wetness of Hayze’s maw creeping up his neck, Bianchi thrashed in vain, his face red-hot as he felt his cock grow hard and press into the soft, supple flesh of the skunk’s guts.

Swallowed up to the throat, and soon to be snuffed out by the greater predator, Bianchi’s mind struggled to understand--to find some rationale for his fate.

Why wasn’t he fighting harder against it? Why were the skunk’s kind words and gentle prodding’s so alluring these past few months? Why did it feel so right to let Hayze have his way? Why did it feel so fucking good to have himself stuffed into his tight gullet, just seconds away from being balling up inside his roiling gut?

Cloudy of mind from the musk in his nose and exhausted from the heat that was leaching at his body, Bianchi clung to the only thing that made sense; a shameful truth he had no choice but to accept…that he was prey all along, waiting for the right predator to finally claim him.

Hayze paused, taking one last moment to cherish his victory over another preything that thought itself to be anything other than food for his glorious body. With his thick tongue, Hayze teased and tickled over the donkey’s muzzle, a final tasting meant to coax out the Bianchi’s last words; the words that always revealed the true character and feelings of every “predator” he had taught was nothing but prey in waiting.

Some begged, some pleaded, some spat and cursed, some swore vengeance that would never come, and some simply whimpered and accepted their fate. Hayze knew what the donk would say, but his ego demanded that Bianchi know for himself…that his delicious preyboy utter the words of his heart before being claimed as another layer of pudge on his illustrious frame.

“G…gods, yes …” Bianchi chuffed as the skunk’s wet tongue ran across his face. “P…please. F…fucking eat me.”

Like the opening bars to Beethoven’s 5th, Bianchi’s words were no surprise, nor something unheard before, but were no less beautiful or spine-tingling to the skunk’s ears.

The preds that begged to be eaten were the skunk’s ambrosia, the food that satiated his very soul, and he would not be denied his godly sustenance any longer.

“I…I want to be consumed,” Bianchi whimpered breathlessly, ashamed and aroused in equal measure. “I want to be a part of you, I want to wiggle on your hips, I wan—”

Bianchi was cut off as Hayze wrapped his tongue across the donkey’s muzzle and dragged him into his gullet with a hard, sloppy swallow, effortlessly locking the moaning, subservient “pred” away from the world forever.

“I know you do,” Hayze said after a hard gulp sent the fleshy indent of Bianchi’s mewling face-bulge down his throat; quickly followed by a fat, sloppy belch.

*BBBRRRRUUUUARRRRRRPPPPPPP*

“Welcome home, future skunkfat.”

Hayze’s hunger ebbed as his lust rose in equal accord, his massive balls pulsing and throbbing for release after such a stunning meal. Hayze’s substantial cock, now buried under the immense, donkey shaped bulge of his gut, was primed and leaking. The skunk wasted no time as he began humping into the mound of thrashing, balled-up donkey meat in his midsection.

“Mmmmmm, that’s it, little gutslut,” Hayze teased, rubbing his hands over the bulges Bianchi made in his midsection. “Buck around in my bubbling, acidic chyme. Dig your hard, pent-up cock into the fleshy walls of a true predator before I break you down into slop and my guts suck you dry for every calorie you’re worth.”

Kicking and shaking, Hayze’s gut thrashed to life from his words; Bianchi eagerly obeying and driving his turgid member into the fleshy walls of his predator.

“Yessss,” Hayze said with a hiss as he continued fucking his gut; the soft flab of his enormous belly like a massive fleshlight for his throbbing skunkhood.

“One last rut, little donksnack. Then you’re all mine. Every fiber of your body, every essence of your being will become folds of flesh on my belly, and delicious, jiggling fat on my ass. How perfectly fitting for a donkey.”

A wicked smile curled on Hayze’s muzzle as his belly shuddered and undulated, his midsection bloating tighter as Bianchi came, flooding his fleshy tomb with an abundance of pent-up donkey seed.

“Ohhh, you’re such a perfect little preybitch,” Hayze bellowed, feeling his thick cockhead flare and his massive underbelly splatter with musky skunkseed that pumped and pooled onto the ground as the skunk came, his balls deflating like cream-filled beachballs as they unloaded what felt like a lifetime of pent-up desire in a glorious moment of orgasmic rapture.

Rolling onto his back and cradling his wobbling, sloshing gut, Hayze let loose a chunky belch, the skunk’s sloppy spittle mixing with fat globs of donkey cum as it blew out of his muzzle and splattered all over the couch.

“Ohhhh, fuck yessss,” Hayze groaned, letting his arms flop to the floor, the skunk’s massive body tingling with a euphoria that was months in the making.

Full, satiated, and nigh immobile as his body processed the hundreds of pounds of delicious donkey meat lodged within; Hayze reached behind his ears, pulling loose the joint and mini-lighter he kept stashed there for such occasions. Lighting up the tip, he took a long, hard drag, the rosebud flickering and wafting with the pronounced scent of loud, high-quality kush.

“Mmmm, you really were something special, sweetydonk.” Hayze said, blowing the smoke from his lungs and gently rubbing his belly. “Can’t wait until we get you properly distributed as a fresh coat of blubber so I can show you off to all your friends. Maybe they’ll get jealous and want to join you. And if not, well…I have my ways of convincing them...”

-End

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