Had a mood for voracious, gluttonous owls, so I wrote something involving Lane gobbling up some seagulls at a party and getting rather fat. Involves permavore and weight-gain!

Lane searches for the twin of his most recent meal, looking to treat himself to a double course...

---

Double Scoop
By: Indi

Lane stretched his beak open a slight bit more, and felt the pair of kicking talons slide down his throat. The owl slowly closed his beak and let out a content sigh. His already hefty middle was bulging further now, and bouncing wildly thanks to the struggles of the seagull trapped within. He gave it a teasing pat.

The act of excessive gluttony had gotten the attention of quite a few others at the party, but no outright condemnation. Which was a shame, because Lane wouldn’t have minded turning a nosy meddler into a second course.

“Man, nothing tastes better than bird.” Lane adjusted his glasses which had barely held on as he’d wrestled his meal into his gullet. The kicks from within were intensifying, but Lane’s thick layers of fat cushioned the blows with ease. There wasn’t much chance of the seagull escaping, and Lane certainly wasn’t planning on letting him out. No, he’d just be adding to the owl pudge eventually.

The seagull hadn’t wronged Lane in any way, hadn’t been a sworn enemy or made threats or even bumped into him. But he had looked tasty at a moment when the slightly drunk owl was feeling hungry, which was the only excuse he ever needed to eat someone. Which is why you keep having to replace roommates! his friends loved to say. At least the ones he hadn’t scarfed down for one reason or another. But he’d gotten better about that lately, if only because he’d gotten bored of no one wanting to visit.

A firm strike from the seagull caused Lane to grunt and belch, a few white feathers flying from his mouth. The burp tightened his stomach slightly, and also provoked a few hunger pains. Burping always seemed to do that to him, even after gorging.

While Lane had originally planned to grab another beer and chill, the hunger pains had made him crave more food instead. Luckily for him, his menu was as expansive as the party itself.

“I know I should probably have a balanced meal, but my need for bird is still pretty damn strong,” Lane told his gut. “And I swear I saw another seagull who looked exactly like you but...plumper.” He snickered as he felt his meal squirm harder. That was proof enough his memory was right. “Bet he’s your twin or something. Would be a shame to separate you two, so I guess I’ve gotta set up a reunion~”

As eager as Lane was to feed, he didn’t have the slightest idea as to where he could find his preferred meal. After first grabbing a beer he began waddling around the house the party was being held at, eyes mostly on the lookout for the second seagull.

The search went poorly. Lane found plenty of other guests who might’ve made a good meal, but he stubbornly refused to give up on his prize. Matching prey were a favorite of his—be they brothers, boyfriends, or simply roommates. He’d once eaten an entire dungeons and dragons group in one sitting, which he loved to gloat about. For a voracious pred, he was also an incredible dork at times.

Frustrated, Lane was relieved to see a familiar face as he searched the back patio. “Yo Tycho, have you seen a filling seagull around lately?”

An obviously drunk lion with a belly bulge even bigger than Lane’s looked at him quizzically. “A—hicc—what?”

“Dude, how much have you had to drink if a snack that big isn’t soaking it up?” Lane prodded his friend’s gut, which shifted lethargically in response.

“Just a...just a little,” Tycho insisted, giggling as he did. “Played pool with some zebraaaaaaaap! Zebra. Take a shot after every ball in. Wracked...wrecked him, and sunk him into the final hole.” He opened his mouth wide, as if Lane wouldn’t have gotten his terrible drunken joke otherwise.

Lane snorted. The only zebra at the party had been the host. The party was likely to get pretty wild later on once people started to notice his absence. “Anyway, have you seen a seagull? Kind of plump, probably the twin brother of whoever I had for first dinner, hopefully not already stewing in different stomach.”

Tycho took a long, long moment to think, swaying and belching as he did. Eventually his eyes lit up. “Oh yeah! Smelled—hicurrp—delicious. Rubbed my belly after I won. He said...something about raiding the soda in the garage?”

Someone had mentioned the garage to Lane earlier in the night, about how there was a homemade soda dispenser there. With luck, the second seagull would still be treating himself.

“Thanks bud!” Lane gave Tycho’s belly a slap. “Try not to get eaten while I’m away~”

Lane waddled as fast as he could, belly bouncing up a storm. He very nearly knocked a couple guests over on the way to the garage, and did take out a small table that got in his way. He opened the door to the garage carefully, but and was rewarded with a wonderful sight.

On the floor below the homemade soda dispenser was the seagull, his belly noticeably rounder. He was chugging straight from the tap, and didn’t stop until the tank of whatever he’d been guzzling ran dry. With a happy belch he pushed aside the hose.

“Having fun?” Lane said as he waddled up.

The seagull blushed in embarrassment and tried to get up, but only managed to shake up the soda in his belly. “Oh I was…I was just dealing with some flat soda.”

It was a terrible lie, but it amused Lane. “Well then why don’t I help ya out?”

The seagull looked at Lane in confusion as he grabbed two of the dispenser’s hoses. His confusion only worsened when both were shoved into his beak. He kicked and squirmed, but one talon held him down as the other turned the hoses on full blast. Soda began gushing into the seagull’s stomach, causing his middle to swell further. As he filled it became harder to struggle, and soon the weight of the soda was more than enough to pin him down.

Once both hoses ran dry Lane pulled them out, smiling at the groaning seagull. The slightest poke of the sloshy birds belly caused him to belch, and a muffled fizzling could be heard from within him.

“Perfect! Now I’ve got someone to wash that seagull I ate earlier down with. I’ve got the feeling you two are acquainted.”

“W-uorrrrrp—wait,” the seagull mumbled, as a wide open beak closed in and then over.

Lane’s second meal put up less of a fight than his first. He wiggled and pushed with all his might, but his bloated belly hindered his struggles. As Lane’s beak stretched around the seagull’s round middle he squeezed a little, just to get a better feel for its size. His own gut was ballooning outward again and filling with more bird. He swallowed and gulped and teased, in full control of the situation.

The owl’s swelling belly pressed against the cool floor and spread out, shaking furiously as more of the seagull emptied into it. It gradually became a cushion for Lane to rest against as he finished the last of his unwilling snack.

By the time his beak was closing around a second pair of talons that night, Lane was quite sated. “Oh yeah, definitely twins! Same great taste, though I admit your belly gave you the advantage, Number Two.”

There were muffled shouts in response to his teasing, though Lane didn’t bother listening. His meals had been a bit too impromptu for him to get a kick out of any protests or pleas they offered.

“Kind of wish you’d been as plump, though, Number One. It’d have been like eating two tasty scoops of ice-cream.” Lane let loose a rumbling bworrrrrrrrrrrrrrp, a half dozen white feathers escaping in the process. “Or maybe two pillows, considering all the feathers I’m gonna be burping up~”

He laughed at his own joke, delighting in the extra squirms it seemed to provoke. For some reason a sense of humor always annoyed his meals.

The two-course meal of the seagull twins left Lane beached in the garage, though he didn’t mind. He spent a good while teasing his prey before they began to churn. Only a couple other guests wandered in during that time, and both turned around as soon as they saw him. He dozed off eventually, with a smile on his face and a gurgle in his gut.


Lane yawned as he nudged open the garage door the next morning. Sleeping on a digesting meal hadn’t exactly been comfortable, and he was already eager to head home for a nap. The owl’s hoodie only partially covered his doughy gut, which had grown a fair deal thanks to the seagull twins. He adored the extra jiggle in his step—and the occasional tear of a seam in his tight pants.

The house was relatively quiet, but a total mess. Cups and bottles were everywhere, along with a lot more scattered pieces of clothing than Lane had noticed the night before. Some were stained or faded, a lot torn. All had likely been worn by someone who was now pudge.

Of course other guests had crashed there for the night as Lane had done. Most were still passed out, visibly too fat for any clothing they hadn’t discarded or burst out of. A couple still had slightly bulging middles, still digesting their once-lively meals.

Lane eyed them hungrily, but resisted temptation. Searching for Tycho—or at least signs of him—was his priority. Half-expecting to find nothing but belched-up clothes, Lane was pleasantly surprised to come across Tycho sprawled out atop the pool table.

The lion was fat—really fat. When they’d arrived at the party Tycho had been lean, but Lane guessed he’d probably doubled in size at least. His shirt was in tatters, his pants just as bad, and his keg-patterned boxers clung tightly to him.

Lane gave the tubby lion a pat on the belly to wake him, smiling as he felt how soft his friend had become.

Tycho groaned, his eyes slowly opening. He attempted to sit up, and was clearly surprised by his own struggles to do so. When he finally saw the dome of his belly he blushed. “Ugh, I’m too good at pool for my own good.”

“I don’t know, I’m rather fond of Tubby Tycho whenever he shows his blubbery face around.” Lane gave Tycho’s round cheeks a teasing pinch, much to his friend’s dismay.

“That’s just because you want to eat Tubby Tycho.” The lion frowned.

“Can’t deny an extra large lion breakfast would be a pretty amazing way to top off this party,” Lane said, smiling wide.

Knowing the owl wasn’t entirely joking, Tycho wiggled himself up and off the pool table. More seams burst as he landed, leaving the doughy lion in nothing but his boxers. He shook his head and sighed. “Ugh, I can’t leave like this!”

“Better to do the waddle of shame home in your boxers than the wobble of shame home on someone’s waistline,” Lane snickered.

“It’d be less embarrassing, at least.”

“Well if you really feel that way I can help ya out, breakfast~” Lane gave Tycho’s exposed belly a squeeze, and held on for longer than usual.

Tycho batted the gluttonous owl’s talon away. “Just eat a stranger like a normal person!” He said in frustration. “Though let’s see if anyone left behind clothes that fit me first. I’m sure someone fat got eaten last night.”

The two fatter friends waddled out of the room, one in search of clothing, the other an indulgent breakfast. Whether the morning ended with one inside the other was yet to be decided.