Playing catch with a gull
(soft vore, digestion, disposal(marked, can be skipped))
 
A gull was strolling down a patch of shore near a harbour, minding her own business as she enjoyed the inertia of her half melted prey making her stomach sway in the opposite direction of her body as she walked. She was content and looking for a nice sunny spot to rest and digest, which is why she did not notice the cute little rodent approaching her.
“Hello big bird, sorry to bother you, but did you see my friends by any chance?”
She had nearly stepped on the little squeaky and her webbed foot was still hovering over the furry morsel.
“Four mice, one with half his tail missing, one fat rat?” she asked the mouse, a sly grin curling around the edges of her beak as she listed up her current stomach contents.
“Yes, that is them.” chirped the little mouse. “We were playing catch and they just disappeared on me.”
They kind of did, thought the gull, they were inside her belly now, dead and melting.
“They found a really really dark hiding spot where no one can see them.” the bird replied, already toying with dessert without it knowing. She loved oblivious prey.
“At least they found a very good one. I have no idea where they are, do you?”
“I would not say it is a good hiding spot, not for them at least. But if you hold still I can show it to you.”
 
The mouse cowered down on his four little feetsies, his lean body and tail down to the ground. She could not ask for easier food. This was better than stealing hotdogs from the humans. Easier too.
“Why do I need to hold still though?” asked the mouse, but by then the gull already pressed her foot down on the small rodent, pinning him under the leathery webbing between her toes.
“Why, if you want to find your friends I need to eat you first.” chuckled the gull over the panicked squeak of dessert. She then lowered her beak and clamped it shut around her snack’s tail before lifting her foot and pulling up her neck again. With an elegant, well practised motion the avian predator tossed the mouse up int the air and made him spin around, allowing him to stare down, past her wide open beak and into her awaiting gullet. The orifice prepared to consume the terrified mouse was wider than the rodent’s whole body, so his avian predator could have simply made him fall right in her crop. But instead she opted to make him land on the back of her tongue, so she could enjoy his struggle a little longer. As his impotently weak paws scrambled for hold in her drool slickened maw, she let out a little moan from the intense, delicious flavour he eagerly spread on her tongue and palette. All she had to do now was lifting her beak, pointing it towards the clouds and relax. The squeaking mouse’ struggles were causing enough commotion to slide him halfway into her gullet. He would have made it all the way to her stomach like this if she had been patient enough to let him, but she was a greedy gull and ended up swallowing to pull the highly unwilling snack right into her crop before she lowered her beak again. This was what she lived for: The feeling of warm living meat filling that halfway mark to her stomach, her neck feathers standing off and getting caught by the gentle breeze as the mouse’s fate was put at the questionable mercy of her hungry avian body. She knew exactly that his tiny form contained barely enough nutrients to fuel her for two hours, that she was about to consume him like the others and probably forget about him as soon as he stopped struggling. He might have had years ahead of him, but now he was getting reassigned to being a white splat on the concrete floor under that silo she nested on. Just for her amusement, mostly. Other predators might have felt some pity or even regret over taking so much from someone for so little personal gain, but she was a gull, so she instead gave a sly, knowing look at some crows she had noticed were observing her. No doubt they had seen the mouse first but he was hers now.
“Mhhh, I love it when food fights back.” moaned the gull, hoping her black feathered, hungry competitors heard her, before she made one step forwards, stretched out her head further, making the mouse’s bulge stand out from her thick neck and gulped one last time.
Just as that visibly squirming lump disappeared in her torso, she heard the crows taking off noisily, the show now over and “their” mouse on his way to joining his friends in her belly. She did not even bother looking at the other birds as she was utterly focussed on that sublime feeling of a living creature reluctantly being pressed through her stomach sphincter. It was not quite as blissful as when the rat had passed through but still, that sensation alone was worth taking one more rodent life. What number was she on anyway? Three thousand something? One might think the humans had their grain transports leak only to lure an eternal buffet of rodents to her. But with the meal concluded, it was time for her to fly back to her nest. This last one was the one that filled her enough to make her sleepy.
 
(Digestion below here)
 
 The mouse was dangling from his tail now, suspended in a cloud of noxious gases right above a bubbling pool consisting mostly of the friends he had been seeking. He squeaked pitifully, as if pleading with gravity as his tail slowly slipped in. When he lost contact with that tight sphincter, he dropped free for a blink before landing in the thick meaty soup with a soft splat. Acids assaulted his senses, burning fumes filled his panting lungs while some lose bones of fellow rodents poked at his thrashing form and his paws found no purchase other than slimy walls and a thick wad of bleached fur at the bottom of this hellish cauldron. Everything became even worse when the whole environment jolted and convulsed as his predator took to the air. He and the other stomach contents were thrown around wildly, allowing the burning liquids to get into his maw, his ears, his nostrils. He had his eyelids closed firmly, trying to protect his eyes from what was already very painful on his tongue and in his nose. The worst part was, that he could make out some of the tastes of his friends still, even in the state that they were now in, as gull vomit coating his tongue. It was a precise forecast of what was going to happen to him. This was definitely giving him the motivation to keep struggling, to fight back at the evil stomach even if he had nothing but melting paws to do it with. Over his struggle he did not even notice that the bird had landed, even missed the slight increase in pressure as she sat down in her comfy nest that contained no short amount of dulled claws and bleached fur of his own kind.
“Did you find your friends yet?” came the teasing voice of the gull, giving him pause at last. Maybe he could talk her into letting him go?
“Please let me out! It hurts, I am melting. Just let me go.”
“I am working on that, mousie. Just give me three more hours.”
He had seen gulls poop before and for some reason his brain decided to burn that imagery before his inner eye since there was no visual input for it to process. His own body was joining her in taunting him now. He did not want to become something like that. He had to get out.
“That is not what I meant! I want to survive.”
“Hmm, that is more difficult. But you still did not answer my question.”
“What question?”
“Did you catch your friends? Whose turn is it now?” she giggled, treating the digestion of him and his friends as some kind of entertainment.
The mouse gasped, immediately regretting his shocked reaction as the acrid fumes filling his lungs made his chest burn and him cough. He was not sure but he thought the expelled gas was starting to take clumps of his lungs with it on the way out.
“Yes, they are all dead. Just bones and paste. Will you let me out now?”
“Mhhh describe it to me more. How is it inside? If you do well, I will think about sparing you.”
 
(nasty goggles and disposal below here)
 
The last thing he ever heard was the gull cooing “Good mouse” in a quite sultry voice. By then the acids had mutilated his little body to the point where he looked quite at home among his mostly liquefied brethren. He had stopped feeling the melting of his flesh minutes ago and when the churning stomach pulled off his softened eyelids and drove someone’s, probably the rat’s rib through his skinned belly, he almost welcomed it. Suffice to say, the gull did not let him out alive. She kept her word though and thought on it, for all of 0.125 seconds, concluding that he deserved his fate for even assuming there was a chance to get out of her alive.
The well fed gull fell asleep shortly after the snacks populating her stomach were exclusively dead and no more excitement could be derived from them. Now sleeping peacefully in her comfy nest high among the steel beams of a grain silo, her body could focus all its energy on breaking down her prey entirely. Flesh and guts came apart, reduced to a mouse and rat smoothie and even the bones crumbled eventually. Just their pesky fur would have to be expelled orally again, along with their dulled claws and maybe a few enamel shells from their gnawy little teeth. But the important bits of five mice and one fat rat were currently swelling the lucky gull’s intestine, making soft sloshing noises as she processed them. Being an avian predator meant her metabolism was fast and needing to fly hours a day meant she needed to be light. Hollow bones were one of the necessary adaptations to this lifestyle, a rather decadently wasteful digestive tract was another. Unlike reptiles for example, her body did not take a week to pluck every little drop of fat and every last useful amino acid from her digested prey. Her meals were in a hurry through her, so she could lighten her load in time for her next hunt. This meant her body only took the easy to grab portions of the prey she killed but in turn it allowed her to hunt and feed more often. Given how uncontested her rule over these parts were and how much she enjoyed tossing fish, mice, little birds and the odd stray kitten into her crop, she was very happy with her body and her life. Only other gulls were sometimes annoying her since they were exceptionally greedy in her mind. But such was life.
When she woke up again, the gull stretched her legs and her wings. Her stomach felt empty now and when she looked at the horizon she saw that there was about an hour of daylight left. Enough time for a small hunt. She then leaned back, extending her rear over the edge of her nest and pushing. Her vent opened and a long jet of bright white former rodents shot out, extending about half a meter in length before falling apart into large messy droplets on their forty meters deep fall until they joined a large patch of dried gull guano she had built up over the years of her nesting here.
“Time for dinner.” she cooed eagerly as she unfurled her wings and hopped off the ledge, catching the wind and already scanning for the next prey to send through her insatiable body.