Jakat’s Gambits

A Short and Vorish Tale
*WARNING: CONTAINS NON-FATAL, NONCONSENSUAL, SOFT VORE—DON’T LIKE, DON’T LOOK*

---

Jakat grinned as the bunnyfolk went about their gardening in the clearing, totally unaware of the mischief-maker watching from the sidelines.

The “sidelines” of Jakat’s little game were actually the middle branches of the tropical trees ringing the meadow where the rabbit-like humanoids dwelt. He hid for now. He’d been known before by the bunnies—and they weren’t the least bit pleased by his teasing. If they even knew it was teasing.

Jakat draped himself across three separate branches. His coils were thick—twice the girth of the average man—and covered in lacing white and beige patterns on an overall sleek black-blue body. His underside was a pale grey, which crept up his humanoid chest and onto his face. He seemed to have hair, or at least a very good mock-hair covering, on his head of a darker grey, half spiked and half drooping over his pointed ears, bits of it forming raggedly little bangs. But the grand majority of it flopped backwards onto the nape of his scaled neck. His eyes were large, violet, and slitted. And staring hungrily into the crowds below.

“Heheheheh… Almost ready…” he giggled, watching as the elder buns and the adults moved over towards the trees with their little ones in tow, preparing the afternoon feast of fruits and vegetables. And some weird grassy loaf thing that the naga was less than disinterested in. They were spreading checkered blankets in gaily bright colors—oranges, golden yellows, vivid coneflower blues. Jakat readied himself, pushing up his torso from the bark and preparing his descent…

Almost as soon as the eldest bunnyfolk was clearing his throat for a starting speech, the naga whirled down the nearest treetrunk, snatching supporting vines and branches as he went. His forked black tongue lolled out crazily from his widely grinning mouth, open so that fangs, tracheal tube and even the stretchy membranes to allow nagas to open their jaws wider than thought possible were terrifyingly visible. He landed with a slide upon the grass, mere meters away from the far blanket coated in goodies. The bunnyfolk’s eyes collectively widened, mouths agape with their stubby buckteeth drying in the air.

Jakat reared up, arms opened as if speaking to old friends, or perhaps to a huddled congregation.

“Hey!” he hissed, his tongue still flicking about, “Sssomeone forgot to invite me to the picnic!” He focused one slitted eye, rolling, on one tiny female, and licked his lips.

Somehow, instinct kicked in not earlier, but now. The bunnyfolk scattered apart like marbles, dashing to one side of the meadow or other, some blundering right over their spread, others into each other to scramble up terrified ever more. Jakat encouraged the chaos, slithering willy-nilly in the panicking groups, feinting one way, snapping his fangs towards the other, cackling as he did. This was fun, almost the funniest part. Almost.

Soon there were only a few stumbling runners left in the clearing; the others had all made it to cover where the instinctual fear mentality had left them. They weren’t any concern of the naga’s. Slowing down, Jakat gauged the others: Good, three left, two of them bunny kittens—that wouldn’t do. It looked like only one of them was destined to “disappear” for a bit.

Jakat’s thick tail slipped through the grass, tripping the last remaining adult bun and coiling about one ankle as he tried to right himself. The bunny was sure he was about to die as the naga chuckled, the prey’s paws dragging and tearing up the grass as he was pulled over.

“Oof, you’re heavier than you look!” Jakat said with a cheerful expression. The bun whimpered and kept up a stunned silence, face dangling inches from the predator’s. “Good, you’ll go down easier!”

The two little ones that Jakat had passed over watched with silent terror at the edge of the clearing, where they had run and hid upon seeing the huge serpentine creature appraising them. Jakat let his jaw come apart slightly at the base with an audible pop, then gaped open like a door. His tongue slid out and plunked against the bun’s chin to hold him steady, then Jakat lowered his tail.

“Nooooo—mmmph!” Only as the captured creature’s head disappeared down the naga’s throat did he find the voice to protest, which was quickly muffled by flesh. Jakat took care to make sure his fangs did not pierce the victim’s skin—doing so may inject some venom, and that would render this mischief no longer simple mischief, now wouldn’t it?

The only uncomfortable bit about this was that naga’s collarbones were not quite as flexible as their jaws. The bun’s head, still trying his damnedest to wriggle back and forth and impede the swallowing process, had descended into his chest, the bulge of the prey’s haunches just entering Jakat’s gullet, slowly sinking to join the rest.

A human’s swallow takes about seven seconds to reach its destination. It is remarkable, then, that a naga’s only takes double to triple that time, even with a very large prey item like this. Jakat tilted his head back and eased his jaw’s bendable halves back together as the rabbit-feet disappeared from his mouth. The round bulge plunged after this, the most difficult hurdle over with, the entire bunny exiting the slippery esophagus and into the even slipperier stomach.

“Ahhh…” Jakat wiped away the dribble of saliva that had escaped down his chin while he was eating. The struggles of the captured bunny were now confined to a slightly plumper area about a third the way down his body. “Tasty! Filling too, much better than mouselings…”

Jakat’s eye was drawn to the longer, plusher patches of grass growing by where the picnic blankets were strewn. With a yawn, and stretch, and a discreet belch, the naga curled up and leaned his back against one of the treetrunks he had been hiding above before.

It was as if the bunnyfolks’ psychology was specifically designed to realize something was awry just a few seconds after it was too late to do anything about it! Or maybe it was just that this particular bun was not terribly bright. It would explain why he was the one caught, Jakat thought to himself. As the naga settled in for a nap the swallowed prey’s struggles were renewed, suddenly frantic about the fact that he was firmly surrounded by the pulsing flesh of stomach walls.

Normally Jakat pulled this gag on the bunnyfolks in order to enjoy their raw terror at being eaten alive—to leave them guessing as to their fate was part of the plan, ordinarily. And ordinarily Jakat loved the wriggles, and especially how clueless the prey were that they tickled and scratched most pleasantly!

But this one was taking the “possible life-or-death situation” a little far. The wiggles and scratching had become more like thrashing and gouging. Jakat winced, and growled towards the lump which was moving even on the outside.

“Hey! Cut that out—”, but much to Jakat’s displeasure, that order only made the struggle worse. “Ouch! Stop that, you stupid bunny. You keep that up and I’ll actually digest you alive. You end up cuttin’ me in there and we’ll both be dead!”

The writhing stopped. Jakat took it to be confusion, which was to be expected.

“Yeah, you heard me right. You think I’m being serious about this?” The naga laughed openly, “Come on. I just like to see the looks on you all’s faces as I’m coming at you.” He lay still a moment and stifled a hiccup, “That and you’re tasty.”

FIN