The Wolf and the Seven College Kids

by the Wolf

 

The first thing Richard noticed as he woke up on the unfamiliar surface was the dryness in his muzzle. That was just before the pounding in the wolf’s head started, and the light trying to intrude though his closed eyes was giving that aching throb some extra help. At least it was quiet, though he felt very bloated and a little queasy. The lupine tried to roll from his back to his side, away from the wretched dawn coming through whatever windows … and found he couldn’t. Richard tried again, only to realize he was pinned down by something laying on top of him.

Snorting and slowly opening his eyes, wincing as more daylight intruded, the wolf twisted his head away as much as he could. How much had he drunk last night? Was he trapped under some heavy stranger that he wouldn’t have gone home with otherwise? No, no matter how drunk he was, he wouldn’t betray Heather like that. He could get really stupid when drunk, but he thought he’d at least have the presence of mind to not go home with some random female. Wouldn’t he? And hadn’t he been going … somewhere with her? Before the Tequila Braincell Massacre or whatever had happened last night?

With a groan, he realized there was no sense in avoiding the answer. Something was preventing him from moving off of his back, and he had to see what it was. Hoping he wouldn’t have to do an awkward walk of shame from someone, Richard managed to open his gummy eyes and look down his body. His fuzzy vision couldn’t make out the shape before him. The massive lump of grey and white fur with black markings wasn’t resolving itself into any shape that looked like a person. More like a furry boulder pinning down his legs and body. Blinking a few more times, Richard felt more sleep falling away from him.

No wonder he felt bloated and queasy.

“The hell…?” he muttered as he looked down at his huge belly. It was several times as big as he was and keeping him on his back on the floor of some house. The lumpy surface was slowly heaving in and out in spots and he could feel slight motion. The wolf’s head was still pounding in a steady rhythm, but he was pretty sure there was no chance of losing … whatever was in there.

He rubbed a pawpad against his eye. “Oh god, what did I do last night?”

“Wow, you seriously don’t remember?” came a voice from above his head and slightly to his left.

Tilting his head, Richard saw Heather standing upside down in a doorway in her shirt and tight jeans from last night. The white-furred female goat’s glare wasn’t incredibly severe, but still worked with her tone to convey annoyance and disappointment at her boyfriend’s stupidity.

“Argh,” the wolf muttered, wincing at the way the room moved. “Not really. I think some stuff is coming back, but it’s all a little fuzzy.”

The goat put her hands on her hips. “Well, do you remember coming here? Remember what we were doing?”

Richard struggled through the drum soloist in his brain, trying to find a clear memory until one finally came into focus. “That’s right. We were having that get-together. We were meeting your brothers and sisters at their house…”

 

***

 

The click of Heather’s hooves on the concrete walk created the familiar staccato of agitation. Richard knew it all too well, and when she stopped halfway up to the house and sighed, the wolf put an arm around the tense female goat.

“Hey, what’s wrong?”

Heather let out a little bleat, staring tensely at the two-story house that had clearly seen better days and was behind on maintenance like a lot of the undergrad rentals in the area. “I just … I don’t want this to turn into a booze-fest. You have no idea how bad it can be with them.”

“Look, you wanted me to meet your brothers and sisters, right? That’s part of the reason for this whole get-together. What are you worried about? Think I’ll be a bad influence?” He gave her a toothy, devilish grin, trying to joke and lighten the tension.

“You have to understand, it’s been like this for a few years with Tommy. And since they’re all finally out of the house and decided to rent this place, every weekend is an excuse to get hammered.”

“So?” Richard moved behind her and rubbed her shoulders. “They’re undergrads. They just got away from home, where someone can actually score alcohol, of course they’ll overdo it a little. Were you any different?”

Heather began rummaging around in her purse. “I suppose not, but that was just me and a couple roommates. There’s seven of them and they all rile each other up to get more insane and come up with horrible ideas. God, I’d kill for a cigarette!” She rummaged deeper, trying to find any she might have left in the bag. “Then anytime I’m around it’s almost worse. It’s like they just think ‘Oh, Heather can take care of us. She’s older and wiser, and it’s not like she’d want to just be able to relax and have fun! She can spend the night making sure we don’t go to the hospital!’” The goat tossed her bag back down to hang at her side again. “Damn it, none in there!”

“Well, you are trying to quit for a reason.” The wolf wrapped his arms around her waist and kissed her hanging ear, feeling her calm. “It’ll be okay, I’ll be there too.”

Heather sighed. “Honestly, that’s one of the things I’m worried about, Richard. It’s not like it’s every weekend since we started grad school, but every time there is alcohol involved, you still overdo it. A couple drinks just starts it off, and once you do have that third one, you just keep going until you’re utterly hammered. I … I can’t deal with that tonight. Not with them. Please.”

“Okay, no problem, babe,” He nuzzled her ear in a way he knew made her feel good. “I’ll limit myself, maybe just one drink, and I’ll drink it slowly. Just enough to be part of the group.”

The goat let out a breath almost in a whistle. “If you can do that, hon, it’ll be a big help. All right. Might as well get this started. Remember, one drink, two tops.”

From just outside the door, they could hear the sound of loud chatter inside already as Heather rang the doorbell. The usual sounds of deciding who would get the door were followed by it opening to reveal a young billy in glasses with tan fur splotched white in places. He smiled as he saw them, clearly already a bit buzzed.

“Hey, Heather, glad you could make it!”

“Hi, Larry. Richard, this is my brother Larry, one of the twins. Larry, this is Richard.”

“Nice to finally meet you, Richard, we kept hearing about you. Come on inside, the nachos are already out, and Tommy’s running the blender. It’s Cinqo de Mayo in September!”

Richard’s nose twitched and his ears perked at the sound of the blender. “Ooh … margaritas…”

 

***

 

Pinned on the floor with Heather leaning her back against the side of his massively engorged belly, Richard put his paws to his head.

“Erf, I thought some of this felt like tequila. Apparently, I didn’t stop at one. I’m so sorry. What the hell happened?”

Heather sighed. “In some ways, it’s not entirely your fault. The way Tommy mixes, one margarita was like four hard drinks. Still, you did down it pretty quick.”

“Yeah, I remember they were hitting the nachos hard, but I wasn’t that into them. Think it was that paw-to-mouth thing watching other people eat. But I’m still a little fuzzy. What happened then?”

The perturbed look worsened on Heather’s face. “Well … after you ignored my high sign and joined the others in shots and other forms of whiskey, you and Tommy started getting into that stupid argument. After the nachos were gone.”

Richard looked at his gut and ran his palm over the top of his muzzle. “Oh god, I remember. That’s how this got started…”

 

***

 

“Nah, man, goats can eat anything. You know tha’; we’re legendary for it. And the appetites to go with it,” Tommy said, waving his glass around.

Tommy was the oldest, in a fifth year of undergrad due to completing a double major of some sort. Richard had lost track or whose major was what after the introductions, but he was still pretty sure on the names.

There was Larry, who’d met them at the door, and his twin sister Jeri, both tan-furred freshmen with slightly varying white markings who laughed at almost any joke and still retained that wide-eyed look of finally being free from home.

The next youngest was Cecil, dark furred and dressed in a striped shirt, skinny jeans and a pair of thick-rimmed glasses. He didn’t talk much, drinking with the others and sporting a perpetually bored look on his face.

Another quiet one was Amanda. Richard had noticed at least twice, before the killer margarita, that she would start to open her muzzle to say something then decide not to speak.

Cindy was a petite, dark brown junior that would join in casual conversation and hadn’t been throwing back as many as the others. Her size probably made her a lightweight. Beyond that she hadn’t made much of an impression on Richard except as a calm, nice girl.

Then there was Nicole. Just a year younger than Tommy, the busty female was lounging at an end of the table in tight, skimpy clothing displaying her creamy, off-white fur. Richard could swear that he constantly felt her checking him out and eyeing him. It had made him nervous at first, but now that the alcohol had hit, he was just relaxing and finding it flattering. Didn’t hurt for her to look.

“Legendary,” the wolf said with a little snort that maintained his playful air, responding to Tommy. “No’ like wolves are. I mean, I mean, we swallow people whole. You can’ top that! We got the bigger appetites, doesn’ matter what you eat.”

“Pshhhh! So wha’? A goat could if he wanted to! We’re walking disposals, we’ll take care of whatever’s in fron’ of us!”

Richard grinned. “Oh yeah? Well how come there’s no stories ‘bout the big bad goat then, huh? When’s the las’ time a goat blew down two houses just to eat, huh? We’re the legendary ones!”

“Big talk from someone who’s hardly touched a bite tonight. You been drinkin’ more than eatin’!” Everyone raised their glasses of whatever they had in a loud salute to the idea of drinking more and took another swig. “Bu’ seriously, can’t just claim that stuff. Where’s the proof?”

Richard gestured around the table with an erratic flail of his arm. “I’m tellin’ you. I could eat everyone ‘round this table in one night. Still have room for dessert.”

Swaying in his seat Tommy smirked, awkwardly tapping his paw on the wolf’s shirt. “Bah, no way. Can’t eat out a goa—” The billy stopped and guffawed, slapping his knee. “Oh god, can’ believe I did that! You probably do! Bet you do all the time!”

“Damn right I do!”

More raucous laughter around the table as neither of the males noticed Heather shifting and shrinking a little in her seat.

“But no, s’riously,” Tommy continued, trying to find his words. “You can’ out-eat a goat.”

“All seven of you,” Richard said, puffing out his chest, “one night. Could do it. Easy.”

“’S a bold statement … since you can’ prove it! I’m not drunk enough yet to get digested.” Tommy paused and looked around the table. “But ‘ll have another shot!”

Everyone around the table cheered and reached for their glasses, Tommy and Jeri helping to fill them for the next round, all except Heather, who looked around the table, annoyed.

“You guys are getting really drunk and stupid,” the older goat said, “I think you should slow down a little.”

Half the table had already bolted their shots, while Richard looked to her and grinned, moving his glass unsteadily in his paw. “No, babe, it’s okay, it’s okay, it’s okay. Jus’ gotta make the point.” He turned back to Tommy, downed the whiskey, and pointed a wavering finger at the goat. “I can do it. An’ I’ll prove it. Bet. A bet. I’ll turn off my deci … my digger … my … thing for twelve hours. Won’ hurt anyone. But then I’m gonna eat all of you, just prove I can do it.”

Tommy snorted. “You can do that, huh?

The wolf grinned. “Yeah, fambly trait. An’ Heather can make sure nothin’ goes wrong.”

“If ‘s a bet … what if you lose?”

“I won’, but whatever. If I lose … one o’ you try to eat me. Heather can eat me if I lose.”

Heather stood up. “Oh no, guys, this is really getting out of hand—”

“C’mon, babe,” Richard said, looking over at her. “Have a little fun! Jus’ a fun bet. An’ you always say you love th’ way I taste!” the wolf added with a lewd, drunken wink to a chorus of oooohs and catcalls around the table.

“Sure, le’s bet! You all in?” Tommy asked around the table.

“Yeah, why not?”

“He’ll never make it, I’m in!”

“Bet he doesn’t even make it past one!”

A round of other ascents and challenges went around the table, with a few wagers changing hands between siblings on how far everything would go. Heather sat back in her chair, arms crossed, looking at the entire table with disdain.

“Loo’s like we’re on. How should we start it up?” Tommy said, leaning forward in his chair.

The wolf set down his shot glass and grinned a toothy grin. “Wiss you!”

Jolting forward, he grabbed Tommy by the arms and pulled him closer. Stuffing the drunk goat’s head into his muzzle before Tommy could react, Richard opened his throat wide and began swallowing him whole. Tommy wriggled in surprise, but was halfway down before he even had a few seconds to realize the bet had started. Ravenous and finding it easy to stretch with all the alcohol loosening him up, the wolf lifted Tommy up above him and tilted his head back as he reached the first goat’s waist.

Richard kept swallowing, gulping Tommy down clothes and all while his hooves kicked in the air. The wolf grabbed the goat’s thighs and shoved, pushing him and expanding his belly as Tommy slid inside. The rest of the table just watched in stunned silence as Richard gobbled down their brother until the pair of kicking hooves slipped into his wide opened jaws. He snapped them shut and with a loud gulp, had the goat completely tucked into his belly. It wobbled and made him sway dangerously on the chair before Richard let out a thunderous belch from the combination of all the alcohol and all the goat he’d consumed.

“Oh, ‘scuse me,” he muttered before he swallowed a little more air, then laughed. “One down, sis to go,” the wolf said as he turned toward the table with a grin and a paw on his rounded gut. “Who’s nest?”

 

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