The Cat Cowboy's Catch: Part 2 (Patreon Exclusive) (Patreon)

Here's Part 2!  Let me know what you think!

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As the crowd cheered, Cowboy Barns slurped up his fourth drink that evening. The contents plopped into his stomach and splashed directly onto Ricky. Sure, the beer wet the crow’s feathers, but it at least alleviated from the growing heat in the cat’s gut. . .

“How’s it going in there, little fella?” Barns asked, patting his stomach and jostling his passenger.

“Please let me out,” Ricky said, the words squirting desperately from the heron’s mouth. “I’ll do anything; I’ll be in your debt for life if need be; just /please/—”

“Now why would I do that?” the tabby asked. He let out a loud belch, and for a moment the oxygen in the stomach thinned, but Barns quickly swallowed down more air. “So many folks out here are betting on when you’re gonna move to the other side,” he said menacingly, looking out at the crowd. “Letting you out would just let them down.”

“Please Cowboy Barns, I don’t—”

“—want to die?” The cat laughed. “Should’ve thought about that before stealing from this here town.” He let out another burp, swallowed more air, and grinned. “No, you’re staying right where you are, bandit. Oh, and things are going to get more tumultuous in there right about. . .” He checked the time above the bar and grinned. “. . . now.”

“What? Oh /shit/.” Ricky looked desperately around the belly, trying to find what Barns was referring to; but it was too dark to see what was going on. A moment later though, he felt it, as the tingling feeling underneath him began to increase . . . and /expand/. . .

The stomach let out a loud, rumbling growl around its passenger, and stomach acid slowly trickled inside, making Ricky scream. It came from off the walls and filled up from below, a steady pool of deadly toxins that made his feathers tingle from the touch. It rose up as the bandit writhed and thrashed about, and stopped right at the heron’s hips. It was like sitting in a deadly hot pool—he could barely feel his toes or legs anymore, not to mention his dick was stinging like crazy in here. Ricky tried to sit up and out of the pool, but the belly was too small.

“Like my stomach acid, boy?” Barn’s voice made the heron jump, and he looked up, shivering in fear. “It’ll eat out your insides soon enough—it’s best not to resist,” the cat purred. “Makes it easier for both of us.”

“I’m not making this /easy/ for you!” Ricky screeched. He had tried reasoning with the sadistic cowboy. Now, it was time to fight back.

With all his might, he brought his beak back, and lunged forward with as much force as he could muster, pecking at the stomach wall as hard as he could. The heron brought his feet up to rake the cat’s insides, and—

Wait a minute. Now that his feet were out of the pool, he could feel them. Pain shot through his body like a shockwave, and Ricky screeched. His feet felt crumbly, and some of his claws were missing. . .

“Yes, digestion can do that to ya sometimes!” The cat laughed, and slurped down another beer. “By the way, thanks for giving my stomach a cute little massage. I love it when the prisoners do that.”

The belly gurgled again, and the acid rose. “No, no, no!” Ricky screamed as it went up his body again, bringing new rounds of pain to the heron with each inch. He cried out in pain, tears running down his cheeks as the terrible acid traveled upward. It finally stopped halfway up his stomach. Now Ricky couldn’t feel his own legs. . .

“Let’s see if that takes ya,” Barns said, laughing. “Any bets on whether he’ll survive before the next round?” The crowd bustled in conversation as money changed hands yet again.

Ricky was having a hard time staying awake now. The bubbling of the acid threatened all of his senses, causing pain erupt all throughout his body. His entire lower half was numb now; he didn’t even want to think about what the acid had done to it.

Barns slapped his stomach again, causing Ricky to scream as the acid got shaken about, and a tidal wave of the stuff splashed onto his face. He was able to close his eyes before the acid got into it, but the his cheeks and forehead weren’t so lucky: his feathers were immediately singed, and the force of the wave caused them to fall off.

The cat cowboy laughed. “Looks like you’re in a bit of pain, bandit,” he teased. “Anything I can do to help?”

“Fuck you!” Ricky shouted.

Barns grinned. “Well, if you put it that way. . .”

The stomach growled again. “No. NO!” the heron screamed.

“Looks like my stomach agrees with me,” Barns purred. Some crowd members cheered, others groaned; money got exchanged yet again. “Say goodbye, bandit. You were delicious.”

“Please, no!” Ricky cried. But it was too late. The stomach gurgled its loudest gurgle yet, and the acid slowly rose up the heron. He screeched in anguish as pain once again traveled up his body and made his body number and number. The acid passed his chest, crawled up his neck, and then encompassed his head.

Ricky kept his eyes closed, terrified of what would happen if his eyes went into the acid. He couldn’t breathe anymore, and knew he was soon going to pass out. Part of him was thankful he wouldn’t see himself digest; the other part of him was terrified.

He didn’t have anymore time to think about it, however. Because at that moment, he passed out.

__________

Barns ran his hand over his distended stomach. He could feel it—the bandit was dead.

“Fourteen minutes in the bar!” he announced, grinning. Roars of victory and outrage came from the people; coins and bills got thrown around. The tabby cat leaned back, watching the crowd with a smile as he rubbed his stomach and bathed in the chaos.

He couldn’t wait to have another living meal. The next criminal would be just as delicious as this one.