The next best thing 2

By Strega

It was talking to Bagheera that started him off this time. Baloo had managed to not think about how delicious Mowgli would be if he ever weakened and ate the man-cub. The problem was that every year the boy aged the more savory his aroma became. At first, when Mowgli was very small, the odor was slight and easily ignored.  By the time the boy was as tall as Baloo's shoulder it was all the bear could do not to gobble him up on the spot.

Eventually, like Bagheera, Baloo realized that no matter how honorable their intentions, the mere scent of the boy would overpower him. The occasional taste they got from a lick only made things worse and sooner or later the closest thing he and Bagheera had to a son would end up as a bulge. It was just a question of which of them would snap first.

And so a couple of years back the two had met and discussed it.  There was only one solution to the problem, they agreed.  When the hunger for man-flesh, strengthened by their daily contact with the boy, grew too great, they would find a substitute.

Baloo managed to not think about it for the better part of a season, but then one day the black panther came to him.  "It is the scent," the panther complained. "And the taste!"

Bagheera knew how to fix that problem and went off to hunt, and Baloo tried to put it all out of his mind without success.  Before the night was much older, unable to sleep and knowing that if he did nothing Mowgli would not be safe around him, he rolled over onto his paws and set off on a hunt of his own.

By mutual agreement they hunted in opposite directions.  Bagheera would pad off toward the sunrise while Baloo made his way toward the setting sun. What he had not told the panther was that he chose this direction for a specific reason.  After all, if he told Bagheera, he'd have to share.

Baloo, bigger than Bagheera, was still a stealthy hunter when needed and he crept through the jungle as he drew near the hunting ground. When he found a spot overlooking a dirt trail he hunkered down to wait.

Through the jungle he made out the lights around the rambling country house. Not everyone who lived here was of the same family, judging by their smell (and taste.) Most of the local humans were thin, either from lack of food or hard work, and those fit down Bagheera's throat nicely.  Baloo, bigger and hungrier, preferred a meatier meal and this lonely house had a good supply of visiting city folk who all shared a common characteristic: they were fat.

There was a shout from the trail and Baloo froze. A flicker of light through the jungle was followed by the sound of panting. A trail of fat, sweating teenage humans appeared, hustled along by an angry-sounding woman who was the only one not heavily overweight. The torch she held was the only real source of light in the post-sundown jungle gloom.

They were of different colors, the youths.  Some pale-skinned British, darker locals, a couple of brown-skinned types from Darkest Africa who'd probably arrived with the British.  Skin color didn't matter to Baloo. He watched them jog along, smelled their sweat and salivated.  Any one of them would do.  Skin color was of little concern when your chief consideration was what shape of bulge they'd make and any one of them, fat and sweating, would make a fine bulge indeed.

There were too many and Baloo stayed still.  Even two would be too many unless he could ambush them both.  If a single human saw him and escaped the game would be up even if he waddled away fat-bellied.  They'd be on guard and he'd have to find another place to hunt.

So he watched and waited as the thin woman yelled and the boys struggled to keep up the pace.  With any luck...yes!  One of the heaviest ones, no more than twelve or thirteen years old but heavy with rolls of fat, stumbled to a halt right where Baloo was hiding.  For a moment no one else was in sight and the panting boy's eyes went wide as a great paw appeared from behind a bush and pulled him in. Before he could utter a sound a set of jaws closed over his face. Fangs on each side trapped his skull inside the maw, the back of his head cushioned by a broad salivating tongue and his face pressed against a bumpy ridged palate. 

Shocked by this development the boy tried to squirm free, but with his head stuck firmly in a maw a set of unseen paws were free to wrap around him and pin him to the ground.  One wrapped tight around his chest, trapping his arms to his sides, the the other reached past to press his thighs against the ground.  The boy, barely able to move a muscle, took in the rustle of air as it breathed past his face and the feel of hot saliva as it dripped down his forehead.  Whatever it was that held him could break his neck easily now but it just stood there drooling.

He heard something.  A voice?  Something like a voice, outside the trap of the maw. The boy sucked in a breath to scream and the paw around his chest clamped down, squeezing the air out of him before he could cry out. The muzzle pushed down to entirely engulf his head and the small squeak he managed was absorbed by the wet cavity of maw. Jaws creaked as they somehow stretched wide enough for the crown of his head to slip into the squelching wetness of the gullet.

"Where are you hiding, Paulo," the skinny woman said, and peered into the jungle night.  The other boys, anxious to evade her ire, kept running in the opposite direction as she turned back to look for the straggler.

"I know you're here somewhere," she said, and just at the edge of her hearing she made out a deep panting.  She shrugged.  Mistakenly, she guessed this was Paulo, out of sight in the brush nearby. It was in fact Baloo, his jaws wrapped around his intended meal and staying utterly still lest he be found out. There were still too many humans in sight and though he could dart out a paw and snatch the woman as well there'd be witnesses.  Witnesses were a bad thing.

"If you're throwing up or just being lazy, it's all the same to me," the woman snapped.  "If I get back to the house before you it's no dinner for you tonight. That'll teach you to slack off."

With that she turned to follow the others, and Baloo, who understood not one word of her rant, watched her go from the undergrowth.  Mowgli he understood, but Mowgli spoke the jungle's tongue.  The only sound he understood from other humans was the panicked cries as they slid down his throat.

Which brought his attention back to the boy clutched between his paws.  Paulo, held fast in the big bear's powerful grip, gasped as the jaws locked around his head loosened.  The thick muscular tongue pressed against the nape of his neck slid up against his cheek as though it was tasting him - which it was - and then returned to its place. The paws, too, shifted a little lower on his chest and just for a moment he thought it was going to release him. That moment ended when the tongue gathered itself against his nape and pushed.  Paulo's eyes went wide in horror as with a wet gulp the thing swallowed his entire head.

Wet throatflesh slipped down over Paulo's face and strong gullet muscles took a possessive grip on his cheeks, sucking him deeper.  The creature began to work its jaws wider to take in his shoulders, seemingly in no special hurry.  His shoulders were as round and fat as the rest of him and Paulo wore only a pair of shorts, so the thick salivating tongue went busily to work tasting his sweaty flesh and, not incidentally, slicking him down with drool for easier swallowing.

Paulo kicked at the aground, able to move one leg and little else. The thing eating him - he was pretty sure it was a bear, not that it really mattered - was two or three times his size and very strong.  It simply pushed its maw downward over him and with his butt driven into the jungle floor by its weight there was nowhere to go but into the waiting gullet. His fat shoulders resisted its maw for a moment but with a scrape of fangs its jaws stretched wider and hot, slimy gulletflesh - preceded by that thick tongue - slid down over his neck and expanded around his shoulders.

Bit by bit the bear's nose slipped down Paulo's chest. Its cheeks swelled grossly as his shoulders disappeared and an unnatural bulge moved through its neck as his face slid through the slick heat of its gullet.  Somehow the bear still gasped in the occasional breath, more to take in a noseful of delicious human scent than any need, at least so far, to breathe.  Rivulets of hot saliva dripped down toward Paulo's shorts as the bear licked and tasted his meal.  The clawed forepaw that previously trapped his arms to his side - the jaws and throat had taken over that task - pushed rolls of fat into its advancing jaws and in all too short a time its distended jaws reached the top of his shorts. The paw reached down to hook its toes beneath his tubby rump, the other followed, and the bear sat back, hoisting him from the ground and cramming his butt into its maw.

Tightly stretched throat slipped and slid around Paulo as the bear forced him deeper.  A slim human would already be in its stomach but his broad middle swelled its furry neck tight as a drumskin and slowed its feeding.  Slowed, but did not stop.  The bear swallowed laboriously and its throat clamped down, ripples of peristalsis squeezing him deeper.  Paulo's face, slick with the thick layer of mucus that lubricated him for swallowing, slid down its gullet until it pressed against a fleshy obstruction.  A deep anticipatory rumble came from the far side and he was all too sure that on the other side of this valve lay a stomach anxious to receive its meal.

Most of the way down a bear's throat and barely able to move thanks to the weight of flesh pressing in from all sides, Paulo still squirmed. His fat ankles kicked from the bear's jaws as the bear lifted its muzzle and swallowed, and a great contraction of its throat muscles squeezed him yet deeper into its body. Paulo was rigid with terror but still he slid forward until and his head pushed through the fleshy value and into exactly the hell he'd expected.  Soft folds of stomach wall made way for him as he slid in and the smell of bile smote his nostrils as the digestive juices began to sting his skin.

It was almost over.  Baloo swallowed again, licking the vanishing legs to take in their flavor before it was too late.  He stretched his muzzle out to let a set of plump, kicking feet slide into his maw. A great bulge stood out of his neckfur and his bulky body was already swollen from cheeks to belly by a fat young human at least a third his weight.

Saliva dripped thickly from Baloo's lower jaw as he got his mouth around the last of his meal.  Plump toes pushed helplessly at his tongue and he tasted the sweat and dirt the human had run through to get here.  The long swelling in his throat shifted as Paulo struggled to escape but it was far too late.  Baloo tensed, arched, and swallowed with all his might. 

For a moment the long lump of fat young human stuck in his throat, so bulky it was difficult to shift, but a thick coating of lubricating mucus on the gullet walls and laid down on Paulo as he was swallowed left the boy as slick as an eel.  The rolling contraction moving down Baloo's throat failed at first to shift his meal, but then the bear lifted his head, and the tiny addition of gravity was all it took. Slowly at first, and then with an unstoppable momentum Paulo was squeezed down Baloo's throat and into the waiting stomach.  The great bulge swelling Baloo's neck shrank as the last of his meal slid past and Baloo groaned as his belly sagged heavily.  With one last gulp it was over.

Paulo slid helplessly into the bear's stomach, propelled by its swallowing muscles and long past having any chance of altering his fate.  Soft folds of belly wall expanded to make room for its meal and the flesh stretched tight as he was forced to curl up inside.  Desperate to escape his slimy digestive end he pushed at the surrounding meat, but the strong muscle and pelt held him nearly still and the walls were as slippery here as in the throat. His fingernails just scraped trails in the mucus coating the walls and unlike the slick walls of the throat this mucus had another function.  Everywhere it touched him it burned and more was trickling down the belly walls to join the growing pool at the bottom.

His world was reduced to the pocket of flesh, the bear's heartbeat, the slow gurgle as the acid accumulated. Digestion had begun.  Paulo struggled for all he was worth but several inches of flesh and fur lay between him and freedom. The weight of bear pressing in from all sides squeezed him into submission and he squirmed futilely in the gurgling dark as he waited for the end.

Two hundred pounds pounds of fat, kicking boy bulged out Baloo's middle, twice Mowgli's weight, and the bear muffled a belch as he licked his chops.  <i>There,</i> Baloo thought.  <i>That should tide me over for a while.  Now I can think about things other than how delicious a certain man-cub would be on his way down my throat.</i>

There was a flicker of torchlight in the distance.  No doubt the woman was on the way back to look for her missing boy.  Baloo took a moment to nose around and make sure he hadn't left any telltale signs of what had happened.

There was a puddle of drool, but that soaked quickly into the leafy clutter.  He always salivated like crazy when his jaws were around such succulent fare.  No scraps of clothing, no obvious tracks.  His meal, still wriggling in his bulging middle, had taken his shorts with him.  Previous experience told Baloo that something as lightweight as a brief pair of shorts wouldn't trouble his guts. Depending on the material they would either dissolve along with their owner or make their way out with all the other parts his body didn't need.  A more complete set of clothing might need to be coughed up or otherwise cause issues but not a simple pair of shorts.

Sure enough the thin woman appeared a ways down the trail, cursing under her breath.  Baloo muffled a second belch and watched her approach from behind the bush.  He didn't go in in for the thin ones, but...

It was a golden opportunity for a second helping and if it'd been another fat kid wandering alone down the trail his jaws would soon be locked around another human head.  She would pass right by his hiding-place and the temptation was strong.  One dart of his paw and he'd be gulping down his second human of the day.  He'd never had two humans one after the other before and though she was smaller than the first the two together would gorge him almost - but not quite - into immobility. He'd waddle away fuller than he'd even been in his life.

Baloo sighed and shook his head.  Before she got close enough to hear him he turned and padded away through the jungle, careful to avoid mud puddles and other places that would leave a clear sign.  His meal still kicked and squirmed in the wet confines of his gut but Paulo wouldn't get out until his body was good and done with its meal.

When he was far enough away he finally allowed himself a long burp, grinning at the scent of boy that came up with the air.  Paulo gave a last kick and was still, out of air and already dissolving in the cauldron of a hungry belly.  As far as Baloo could make out the owners of the remote house made a living sweating weight off the fat boys and occasional fat girl.  Well, Baloo was helping.  Fat digested more readily than meat or bone and there was no better way to sweat off the weight than to visit the sauna of a hungry bear's belly.  Of course the muscle and bone soon dissolved as well but a bear's gut was inarguably a great place to lose weight.

That was why he might pick off the occasional fat kid and no one seemed to care. The fat ones were all strangers and the people who ran the business probably thought their charges had simply run away to avoid all the exercise.  No doubt they'd check the nearby towns and find nothing before shrugging at the thought of yet another runaway and shepherding the next group of sweating kids down the track. They'd never know that Paulo and the other missing kids disappeared thanks to becoming short-lived bulges in a bear's middle.

This was also why he had turned away rather than snatching a second meal.  The fat kids were strangers but if the woman or her husband vanished down his throat the locals might realize a predator was picking them off and his fine hunting-spot would be spoiled. Four fat farm visitors had been down his gullet so far and with any luck, the next time his lust for man-flesh grew a fifth would follow them.

A little while later he was back in his home territory and stretched lazily out under a tree to nap.  Low-pitched gurgles and his snores were the only sounds as his body went to work on a fine and filling meal.  By the time he woke near dawn the lumpy bulge of swallowed boy was a shapeless mass, the sloshing liquefied fat and meat rounding off all the bony shapes.  Soon all that fat would be transferred from boy to bear and there was simply no way to tell what he'd eaten unless you had a beast's nose and smelled his breath.

That was how he knew Bagheera was similarly full of human.  He found the panther enjoying a belly-rub from Mowgli and though the boy was a quick learner he still had a man's nose. Baloo sniffed, scented the woman in the panther's belly, and smiled as Bagheera similarly tested the air and shot him a fanged grin.

"You had a good meal too," Mowgli said, and came over to give Baloo his own belly rub. "Let me guess what it is."

But Baloo had long since worked out how long it took to digest someone Mowgli's height (but fatter) to the point it was impossible to tell it was a man.  Mowgli sank his fingers into Baloo's bulging belly, rubbed, then frowned.

"It's all squishy now," he complained.  "I can't tell what you ate if you wait this long before you let me feel."

"You know me," Baloo growled.  "After a good meal I want a nap, and my stomach doesn't sleep with the rest of me."

"Well I think," Mowgli began, and then laughed as the lumpy swell of Bagheera's belly pressed him against Baloo's softer middle.  "No fair!"

Mowgli was getting smarter as he aged. Soon they'd have to stay away from him until their human meals were digested and passed lest he recognize the bulge for what it was. He must never know that he'd indirectly caused thirty-plus (and counting) fellow humans to kick their last in hungry bellies.

"The jungle is not a fair place," Bagheera purred, and rested his chin on the boy's shoulder.  "It can be unforgiving and you must trust only those you are sure love you."

Mowgli nodded and stretched out between the two fat bellies as Baloo and Bagheera settled down to finish digesting their meals. He trusted them, and loved them just as they loved him.  And he was right to trust them.  Each had fought to protect him more than once and regarded him as his son in all but name.  There was no place in the jungle where he'd be safer than within reach of their claws and fangs.

Baloo met Bagheera's gaze past the sleeping boy and they shared a nod.  One of them might weaken, succumb to impulse, but together they would stay strong.  Mowgli would never slide down a panthery or ursine throat. Or, if they could help it, down a tigery one.

But the delicious scent and taste of the boy led to urges that had to be satisfied and so the local jungle stayed free of humans.  One day he might want companionship of his own kind and when that day came he'd have a bit of a walk.  There'd been a time when the occasional woodcutter or wise woman could be found not too far away. No longer. They had been among the first to go to slake Baloo and Bagheera's hunger for man-flesh.

Mowgli now lived in a slowly expanding patch of jungle void of any other human life whatsoever.  Bagheera, Baloo, Shere Khan and even occasionally Kaa the rock python saw to that.

Bagheera yawned and put his head on his forepaws.  Baloo rolled onto his side and matched the yawn.  Swallowing humans whole did hide the act, which was the point of it, but an entire human took some work to digest. Bellies gurgling, they settled down to rest on either side of a boy who must never know the things they did to protect him.