It is in this world that the adorable Jenny lived.

Jenny was a sweet, well-adjusted young catmorph. She had a part-time job at the local yogurt parlor, and did babysitting in the evenings to pay her way through college.

Jenny sighed as her pen scrawled across the rent check. "Here you go," she said evenly as she handed it to Misty, her younger roommate, to take to their landlord.

Well, I can afford it...if I skip breakfast for the next few weeks...she thought to herself sourly.

She picked up the newspaper, hoping to find a few odd jobs that would fit around her class schedule. It was always a matter of luck, but it was usually worth a look at least.

She flipped to the want ads and ran her eyes down the page. Mover wanted...yuck. Part-time schedule at the eraser factory...she'd worked there before, and the owner kept trying to grab her ass. So no. Janitorial service needed at the dance club...double-yuck.

Then she finally spotted one that was right up her alley:

SITTER WANTED
Babysitter nd. for 4 day trip. $7/hr. 321-9988

A 4-day babysitting job by the hour? That was worth missing classes for. She could only hope someone else hadn't already taken the job. She immediately picked up the phone and dialed.

There was a ring, and then another before she heard a pickup, and a soft voice on the other line. "Hello?"

"Hi," Jenny said in her best prospective babysitter voice, "I read in the paper that you need a babysitter?"

"Oh, yeah, yes--" the woman on the other end replied, "You see, I'm a single mother, and I need to attend a trade conference that's out of state. Um, do you have any references?"

"Yes, I've done babysitting for a lot of the local moms down near campus--"

"Oh, do you go to Furmore U?"

"Yeah--"

"Do you know Margaret Mitchel, by any chance?"

Jenny recognized the name. "Yes, I'm pretty sure I babysitted her kids a few times about a month ago."

"Yeah, I was just wondering, because we used to go to school together."

Jenny made a ch-ching! noise in her mind. If they found out you had already babysitted for one of their friends, it was a done deal.

"So, I was going to pay seven dollars an hour..." the woman continued.

"That's fine..." Jenny replied.

"And you'd need to stay at our house, is that alright?"

"Yeah, that's no problem."

"Oh, and it's from the seventeenth to the twenty-first. Is that okay?"

A weekend. Perfect. "Yes, that's perfect."

After a few more exchanged pleasantries, the deal was made. Jenny would show up at her house on the morning of the seventeenth and stay until the twenty-first, watching "Mrs. Jameson"'s four daughters while she was away.

She did a little dance in the kitchen before she went off to brag to her roommate.

****

"And you can help yourself to anything in the fridge," the hurried Mrs. Jameson continued as she hoisted a bag over her shoulder. Mrs. Jameson was a taut female bunnymorph, looking to be fairly young but her face was still pulled tight with stress and alertness. She was wearing a tight business suit, and had been scurrying madly around the house since Jenny had arrived.

"Just let the kids watch TV, and don't let them out of the yard."

"No problem. Here, let me help you get these to the car," Jenny said as she lifted two of the bags.

"Thank you!" the exasperated woman replied as the two carried bags out to the red SUV that was sitting in the driveway. "And there's three checks on my desk--use them for pizza on the first night, movies and drinks on the second night, and ice cream on sunday, okay? And--what else--there's a list of emergency numbers by the phone, and, here--" the woman lowered her bag to the driveway and reached into her shirt to pull out a business card, "here's my cell phone number, and let me write the hotel on the back..."

Jenny just waited politely as the woman went down her checklist of panicked preparations. Most mothers didn't realize it, but they were all like this--and any experienced babysitter knew it.

Of course, she preferred them to that one father who had just stepped out the door and said "Don't let them burn anything too expensive, okay? See you next week..."

She was brought out of her thoughts as she sensed that the woman was finishing listing the details. "Okay, is that it? I'm pretty sure that's it." the bunnymorph said as she picked her bag up again and placed it in the passenger seat. "Just remember, no violent TV, and no friends, okay?"

"No problem. I love kids--I'll be sure to keep them happy." Jenny replied cheerfully. It was mainly true...she liked MOST kids...

"Thanks again," Mrs. Jameson said as she gave Jenny a friendly handshake. "And I guess I'll see you on monday then!"

"See you then!" Jenny waited as Mrs. Jameson got in the car, then waved as she finally drove off.

Whew, she thought to herself. Well, there was nothing left to do but go inside and wait for the kids to come home from school. She plopped herself down on the livingroom couch and flipped on the TV.

About four hours later, she heard the sound of a bus, along with the giggling and talking of children. She turned off the TV and headed towards the front door. Just before she got to it it burst open, and four little bunny girls poured in.

She had had a hard time telling them apart from the pictures their mother had shown--they were even more similar in real life.

"Uh, hi girls!" she said as they ran past her towards the front stairs. "I'm your new babysitter!"

They all stopped and wheeled around, already halfway up the stairs.

"My name is Jenny." She said.

"Your bosoms are HUGE!" one of them squealed as she pointed at Jenny's chest, then all four of them degenerated into a fit of giggling laughter.

Jenny had seen this plenty of times. They'd been joking on the bus, and now they were "on one"...it'd wear off in a few hours.

"Thank you," she said with a smile. "Now your mother left me a few rules..."

****

Jenny wandered around the kitchen from cupboard to cupboard. The sounds of the Auntie Bunny show blared from the TV in the next room, where the kids had been planted for the last hour or two. Jenny had done her best to find something to eat, but all she'd found is carrots--diced carrots, canned carrots, strained carrots, carrots in beet sauce, carrot ravioli, carrot cake, carrot casserole...Even for a bunny, Mrs. Jameson was single-minded. Well, it would do for the kids, but Jenny doubted she'd be eating much tonight. Maybe she'd sneak out after dark and get a cheeseburger.

"JEHHH-NNYYYY!" she heard one of the children yell. She walked back into the living room, where the three girls had arched their necks around the couch and were looking at her. "My legs are getting tired! Can we play a game?"

"Sure." Jenny said. She figured it would do to kill some time. "What do you want to play?"

"Let's play Bunny Hop!" The youngest girl squealed.

"NO!" Both of the older children yelped. "We're gonna play Predator!"

Jenny had heard of the game--it was basically hide and seek, from what she remembered. "Predator, okay. That's like hide and seek, right?"

"NO!" one of the girls yelled. "We're clever little rabbits trying to outsmart the big, stupid carnivore! So we run and hide, and if you find one of us, you pretend to eat us!"

"Okay..." it still sounded exactly like hide and seek, "So who wants to be the predator?"

"You have to be the pretidor, Jenny!" the youngest girl stated flatly. "'Cause yer the biggest-est!"

"Okay, I'll tell you what," Jenny said with a smile, "I'll close my eyes and count to fifty, and then I'm going to come after you!"

The girls squealed gleefully as they scattered and Jenny began to count. It was mostly just tedious, so it was with some small relief when she hit 50 and proclaimed "Ready or not, here I come!"

She practically expected to hear giggling from somewhere, but she didn't. After switching off the TV, the house was deadly silent. Jenny started quietly creeping around, first opening the closets in the front room, then looking in the cupboards in the kitchen, then the pantry. Finding none of them there, she headed upstairs to the bedrooms. She checked one of the girls' rooms first, looking in the closet, the laundry hamper, and under the little flower-covered desk. After checking under the bed, she figured she'd looked in all the places that were big enough for one of them to hide, and she moved into the next room, which was the mother's bedroom.

She looked under the bed first--it was a huge bed, odd for a single woman but not entirely surprising. Despite the ample space, there were no little bunny girls underneath it. She moved to the closet--no one there, either. She wandered into the bathroom and checked the cupboard under the sink, then the one above the sink. What she found there was not little girls, but nonetheless it caught her attention--staring at her from the shelves behind the bathroom mirror were the labels of two dozen liquor companies.

Jenny couldn't help but giggle a little bit. Mrs. Jameson didn't look like this heavy of a boozer, but there it all was--Harvey Hamster's Malt Scotch, Terry Toad's Sherry, vodka, bourbon, and even a few bottles of hard whiskey.

Jenny usually didn't drink that much, but she'd always wanted to try malt scotch. Finding a glass in the cabinet, she decided a harmless taste wouldn't hurt. She poured herself a stiff shot and drank it gingerly. It was really strong stuff, but she liked it. Pretty soon she had drained the whole glass, and, smiling, poured herself another. She didn't want to overdo it, so she figured she'd just have a few. She drank the second glass as she made a half-hearted attempt to check the bathtub for any bunnies that may have been hiding in plain sight. She licked her muzzle and found it to her liking. Maybe a glass of sherry, but that would be the last one.

It was, in fact, the last one. After pouring and downing a glass of Terry Toad's Sherry which wasn't too bad at all, she headed off to check more rooms. As before, she didn't find anyone. She checked every closet, hamper, cupboard, and bed she could find, but still no sign of her quarry. Frustrated, she decided to stop on the way back downstairs for another drink.

That malt stuff was really good.

It seemed like this woman had really good taste in liquor. Jenny tried the vodka--it was better than most. She sampled one of the whiskeys--it was surprisingly dry and understated. She realized she was starting to get tipsy, but she didn't want to stop halfway. She figured she could sleep it off--it's not like she was going to start hitting the kids or anything. She just wasn't that kind of drunk. It would make the night go by faster.
She tried another whiskey, and found another brand of scotch. They were both excellent. The more she drank, the better everything tasted. The bourbon was the best. No, the scotch was. Which scotch, though? Well, it looked like she'd have to compare...

*****

Jenny awoke with a pounding headache and a terrible stomach cramp. She didn't remember falling asleep--in fact, it was a few moments before she even remembered where she was. She felt the red silk pillow on her head and realized she must have fallen asleep in the mother bunny's bed. Her stomach felt terrible--the skin of her belly felt painfully stretched, like it had been made two sizes too small. She moved her hand to her cramping belly and felt the strangest thing yet--her stomach didn't end where it was supposed to. It felt huge--she ran her hand up and down it and it was easily bulging a foot or two past where it should have been.

Convinced she was seriously hung over, she pulled her reluctant eyes open. She saw a blur of red--some sort of giant red sphere was sitting on top of her stomach. As her vision cleared, she realized it wasn't a sphere, it was the bedsheets.

Confused, she pulled the sheets off, and beheld a very strange sight--her own stomach, ten times it's normal size, bulging like a beachball. Her skin was uncomfortably stretched, and she continued to feel throbbing cramps in her stomach. She was even a little nauseous--she felt almost as though she could throw up at any moment.

She got a little dizzy as she slowly sat up, finding it difficult with the sudden girth she had acquired. She wondered what the hell had happened. Carrots didn't usually give her stomach cramps this bad.

She heard a distinctly un-ladylike blorping sound emanate from her belly as she stared down at it. Well, if it wasn't going to go away, she may as well find the kids...maybe one of them would remember what she did last night.

She slid one leg over the side of the bed, then the other, and attempted to hoist herself up. It was very difficult--her stomach weighed a ton. After several false starts, she finally hefted herself unsteadily to her feet. Looking to the bathroom, she saw several still-open bottles of liquor sitting next to the sink. Grunting with annoyance, she hefted her heavy body over to the sink to put the bottles away. With each step, her belly would sway to the left or the right with a rather gross sloshing sound. Her mind was still terribly foggy--apparently she had just drank way too much last night and passed out. But could she have drank THAT much?

After putting the liquor back in it's hiding place, she walked out to the hallway, her each step depressing the floor just a little bit. Her legs were still shaking a little from the unusual weight, but thankfully she was athletic enough to handle it. She walked to the edge of the stairs and had to stop as another gurgling erupted from her stomach, followed by a terrible cramp. Apparently she had eaten a bag of nails or something. She waited for a moment until the sharp pains dulled into a gentle ache, and she started down the stairs. The slosh-slosh-gurgle-slosh continued as her stomach bounced awkwardly with each downward step.

"Giiirrrllss.." she called weakly as she slowly thudded down the stairs. She could see that they weren't watching TV, and she didn't hear them anywhere. If they were still hiding, she'd be pissed.

"Come on, the game is over..." she called out as she waddled into the kitchen. She searched all the previous spots again, then went down to the basement to look for them, but there was no sign whatsoever of any of them. Her stomach gurgled loudly as she slowly pulled her distended form back up the stairs, wondering what could have happened to them.

As she stared at her enormous belly--distended, groaning loudly, incredibly heavy, a thought finally occurred to her. Of course! How could she have been so stupid!

She hadn't even looked outside!

She slowly hauled herself and her enormous belly to the back door and opened it. "Girls!" she yelled. "It's time to come inside now!"

There was no answer. She stepped out and took a quick look around the yard--there was no sign of them.

Her stomach suddenly cramped up hard. Jenny gritted her teeth and growled, clutching her round belly with her hand. What could she have possibly eaten that would disagree with her this badly? It had been cramping and groaning and gurgling and complaining since she got up! What could it possibly--

And finally, a terrifying but increasingly plausible possibility insinuated itself in her mind. As it did, a piece of the hangover lifted and she had a flash of the game they had been playing the night before: "Predator."

She remembered being thoroughly drunk, and finding one of the girls hiding in the laundry room. The girl had a sour look on her face, and said "That doesn't count! You cheated! You're not supposed to move the laundry basket!"

She remembered being annoyed, and saying "Oh, but that's not cheating--I've found you. I get to eat you now!"

The girl turned downright bratty. "Nuh-uh! You couldn't eat a turtle with no legs!" She stuck her tongue out and made a PBBBLLTH noise, and then started chanting "Stupid little kitty, can't catch a turtle! Stupid little kitty, can't catch a turtle!"

Jenny grabbed the front of the girl's dress and smiled. "Oh, on the contrary. Let me teach you a little something about the law of the jungle, honey."

She opened her mouth wide, and Jenny shuddered as the vague memory of feeling a little pair of bunny feet kicking as the girl's body was forcefully shoved down Jenny's throat.

She tapped her fingers on her neck. It was still sore from being stretched so violently the night before. She also remembered two other distinct occaisions later on that ended in a similar fashion...

"I just ate your sisters. That's them here in my belly."

"Nuh-uh! You couldn't catch a cold!"

The girls--and--but--she was drunk, and--uh oh.

"...Girls?" she said meekly, looking at her belly.

Underneath her fur, she was turning white with fear. "No, no, no, don't even TELL me that I--Girls!?" She yelled at her belly and slapped it a few times. "Wake up! If you're in there, answer me!"

The only answer she got was another disgusting burbling sound.

"Oh God..." she said as she moved as fast as she could (which wasn't very fast) towards the phone. Who could she call? 911? The hospital? She had already picked up the reciever when she realized, no, she couldn't--they'd put her in jail for life! A college kid eating three children? How could she possibly explain?

"I'm sorry, girls, I'm sorry!" She said, cradling her belly carefully in her hands. "What am I gonna do?"

Her mind raced for a way out of the situation. She couldn't well greet their mother with this kind of news. She could just imagine:

"Were the girls any trouble?" Mrs. Jameson would ask.

"Not after I found the Pepto Bismol!" Jenny would reply.

She was in SO much trouble.

She tried sticking her finger down her throat--all it did was make her dry heave. She even tried drinking a whole bottle of laxative; the effects of that are best left unsaid, but sufficed to say, it too was ineffective. In her desperation, she even considered calling the hospital and telling them to pump her stomach. She was too filled with anxiety to do it, though. How would she explain it? Was being drunk really a legal excuse for eating three bunny children? What if they were already half-digested corpses? Would they even have a pump that big?

She realized she was sweating and pacing all over the kitchen. Her legs were aching from the extra weight, and her stomach kept cramping up every few minutes with an angry-sounding gurgle. Every time, she got another urge to apologize to her stomach, as if it--or the girls slowly dissolving within--could hear her.

Finally, after hours of panicked pacing and trying to calm her racing heart, she realized she was completely exhausted. The sweat had turned cold and caused her fur to become matted and damp all over. She finally collapsed on the couch and stared at the lifeless television set.

She reached for the remote and turned it on, hoping that the distraction would help calm her down, allowing her to think more clearly--and at this point, she wasn't sure there was anything she could do. She just started watching sitcoms, then sports shows, then the news. As she watched, her stomach finally started settling down, and she almost started to think of it as comforting; satisfying. Her belly had never been so full, and for some reason, this made her feel content. The pained cramps gave way to soothing gurgles and pops, and she began to unconsciously rub her belly gently as the light and sound from the television slowly lulled her to sleep.

******

"I'm home, honey-bunnies!" Mrs. Jameson exclaimed, expecting them to come running from all directions, demanding gifts and stories of how her trip went. The quiet surprised her, and she caught herself--they must be napping. Quietly, she tiptoed into the living room where the babysitter was sitting quietly.

"How did it go?" she whispered.

"Why are you whispering?" Jenny whispered back.

"Aren't they sleeping?" Mrs. Jameson answered.

Jenny shook her head. "Not exactly."

"Oh." Mrs. Jameson said in a normal voice. "Well then, how did it go?"

"Er..." Jenny blushed violently under her fur, "Well...have you heard of a game called 'Predator'?"

"Yes. The girls like to play it behind my back. They don't think I know that. They always pretend like their babysitter is going to eat them."

"Yeah...um...well, you see..."

"Is something wrong? Everything's alright, isn't it?" Mrs. Jameson asked, a hint of annoyance in her voice.

"Well..."

It's now or never, Jenny thought to herself. Better to just blurt it out.

"I ate them."

"Oh!" Mrs. Jameson was laughing. "Of course you did. They always loved that game. So where are they now?"

"City sewer, I think. Maybe still in your septic tank."

"That's just not appropriate, Jenny." Mrs. Jameson said patiently, obviously still thinking it was a joke. "Now tell me where they are."

"I already did."

"Jenny, you have exactly ten seconds to show me to where you put them."

Jenny couldn't resist. The setup was just too good. Within seconds, Mrs. Jameson's head was being shoved violently down Jenny's throat.

"Wait, now see here--" Mrs. Jameson sputtered in the damp darkness as tight esophagal tissue slowly pushed past her. "You can't just--this can't be--AAAAIIIIEEEEEE!!"

Jenny heard the muffled screams as she pushed the older woman down her throat. She felt a gentle cramp as Mrs' Jameson's head reached her stomach, followed slowly by the rest. It seemed to be a lot easier this time. As Jenny slurped up her feet, she collapsed onto the couch again.

"Sorry, Mrs. Jameson," Jenny said as she helped herself to her pay--plus a generous tip--from the woman's purse. "I really am." She felt a kick--it hurt, but not as much as before. "Oh, stop squirming. It can't be that bad. Besides," she giggled, savoring the setup, "you asked me to show you where I put them! Oh God, that was campy, but it felt good!"

She felt a loud groan, and it too felt good. The bunny woman was struggling, and Jenny couldn't keep down a loud belch that erupted from her throat. She figured she would just stay there for another night or two and not answer the door, then slip out quietly and never mention the whole situation again. Her stomach was painfully stretched as before, but this time, part of her almost liked it.

She'd have to babysit more often.