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2024 8/8 Short Story Collection.

© Tsumi moogle '24

Characters © Themselves.

Just a comfortable evening.

The DVD case lay before the TV showing its contents. Light danced through the shadows of the otherwise curtain-darkened room. Clothing lay scattered here and there about the floor, less so from a hurried frenzy to be shed, and simply having been added to through the evening as Tsumi and Kim had settled in.

The pink mog smiled as he lounged himself sideways along the plush couch. His trim, short form almost artistically having draped along thick and well-loved cushions from a sitting position, a bowl of popcorn rather mockingly just out of reach on the far arm of the furniture. He could wait.

At last, the soft footsteps returned, and he smiled up to the returning figure of a pleasingly lithe and curvaceous, snowy-furred cheetah. Kim's light blue eyes regarded the smaller frame with a tilt of her head and an almost playful sigh and shake of her short-cropped haired head as she padded to the couch.

'You're in my seat, mog.' she chided dryly as she looked down to Tsumi, beaming up at her with all earnest innocence on his face.

'I dunno, Kim-po. You were gone for an awful long time, k'po. I might have laid claim!' laughed the moogle with a flit of his battish wings. Kim pursed her lips to cut off the smirk at her friend's cheek, before shrugging her spotted shoulders and turning about. Tsumi perked.

Her ropey tail swishing aside, she made a pointed arch of her hips as she sat down in the mog's now claimed seat, pinning his head against the back of the couch, as he had nowhere else to squirm to.

With a muffled laugh, Tsumi wriggleded, and lifted his arms to grasp at the chee's hips, playfully nuzzling at his friend's delightfully shapely rumpcheeks, and snickering his delight as the draw of his tongue along them sent a visible shiver up Kim's spine.

The mrewp! of surprise when his tongue delved cheekily between them and beneath her tailbase had his form squirming pleasantly in turn.

Glancing back to the pink form with her cheeks quickly surpassing the cotton-candy pink of the mog, Kim softly nibbled her lip and puffed with a smile.

'Well, I guess I might just have to lay claim myself then!' she purred as she ground her hips slow, luxuriantly against the mog's face to invite that questing tongue deeper under her tailbase.

Tsumi perked to that invitation, his pom pulsing a gentle blue as he leaned into the motion, to lap deep, before finding Kim's hand resting among his longer headfur and grasping softly.

The guidance he expected came rather more forcibly, and to rather less resistance, as the Chee groaned low, and sank the smaller frame's face, his entire head beneath her tail. 'Not to your seat though, Tsumi~' Kim purred, panting gently as she curled her toes, savouring the first exquisite clench about her friend-turned-toy and delighting in the pressure of his features so deep within her.

..But not nearly deep enough.

With a practiced adjustment of her position, and a casual roping of her tail about the trim moogle's form, Kim ground steadily, bouncing, riding the mog in deeper; past slim shoulders; over trim torso and smooth abdominals.

Rolling slowly onto her front, she lay on all fours, moaning with a flex of her claws as her rump continued wringing, clenching with greedy pace, aiming to seal squirming legs inexorably inward.

The moans and sputtered squeaks of her friend were a delightful buzz through her body as she lowered one hand to trace over the outlines of the fae creature beneath her pelt. Feeding Tsumi deeper into her guts, she slowly ground down, purring richly against the couch cushions beneath her as she felt her rumpcheeks clenching in about the Mog's footpaws.

'Oooh.. I'm definitely.. laying claim here, Tsumi.' Kim giggled among her purrs. Her hips continued a slow, purposeful grind, teasing along her dampening loins, with a flick of her tail as the twitch and buck and struggle of the mog ground along inside her exquisitely. 'You keep squirming for me..!' She mewled with growing tension, arching herself up to grind against her cushions needfully, and glance down at the sight of the outline of the mog, lit by the TV's glow, worming about in his tight hold.

Tensing, trembling, the chee moaned out her breathless delight as she slicked her inner thighs, and against the cushions.

Slowly, she permitted herself to sag, to drape over the cushions with a soft and steady pant. One hand tracing over the squirming shape of the mog within her. 'Oooh.. You keep squirming like that.. and I just might have to leave you in there, mog.' Kim grinned, reaching to draw the popcorn bowl over to herself.

Just a comfortable evening, really.

*****

It was risky, leaning in place against the side of the bus shelter.

After a work-day that had just kept dragging out, request after request for another hour as something else drudged up the required the cover, the thought of getting home, of face-planting into his bed was only too tempting.

Weariness tugged at his eyes, only mildly held at bay by the ache in his ankles and knees from standing far longer than was right. The multitude of crackles that came from the depths of his boots as he leaned up on his toes, and squatted slightly made the ferret wince. He'd be doing that for weeks.

If he ever stopped crunching at all, he considered, glancing at the outline of his workplace a ways over the road. What would they do without him?

The familiar low roar of the bus' engine approached, and he stepped out to flag it down. He paid his fare into the palm of the modestly smiling, pear-shaped red squirrel settled on a well cushioned and highly suspensioned chair.

'You look dead on your feet. Where're you headed?' the squirrel asked warmly, slipping the coins away to hand over a ticket stub.

'Red-sands Lagoon. Just after the shops.' The ferret said when he got his brain functioning.

The driver grinned and nodded.

'Gotcha. Go grab a seat.' The squirrel rumbled merrily, closing the door and revving the bus as the ferret wandered down the aisle, noting the shapes of bodies in chairs, if not their faces.

Slumping with a groan into his own, he winced for the faint release of stress, the relief in his lower half. Almost as much as he struggled to keep his eyes open from the low rumble and thrum of the engine through his frame, the cool window against his head. He was asleep within moments.

And what felt like moments later, jolted awake. It was the stillness, the silence that had woken him. Or perhaps the thud of the driver's cabin door being closed. Casual footsteps meandered up the aisle towards his seat, drawing the ferret's eyes to the smiling face of the large squirrel.

'Oh, damn. Is this my stop?' murmured the mustelid, rubbing his eyes and stirring at the sight of the squirrel looming over him some.

'Hmm? Red sands Lagoon, right? Nooo, we passed that over an hour ago.' smiled the plush rodent with a chuckle. 'Didn't realize you'd fallen asleep!'

'What!' startled the ferret, starting to scramble to his feet. 'Where are we then?!' He looked out the window, into deepest night, and no discernable landmarks to identify the place.

'Oh.. End of the Line.' grinned the squirrel. 'And my shift for the night, happily!' he continued, clapping a broad hand on the ferret's shoulder. He squeezed lightly, and started to lift the mustelid up from his chair again. 'Gotta say, I'm absolutely famished.'

Blinking in concern, the ferret turned back to the squirrel as he was lifted up, staring at the dangerous gleam in those green eyes, before they were promptly replaced with the cavernous yawning of the plush squirrel's maw.

Deep, slick, pulsing flesh framed by pearlescent teeth, and with a broad, pillowy tongue of a welcome mat sliding forward to greet him.

The ferret gave a stuttered shout of shock and confusion, finding his arms pinned when the bus-driver adjusted his grasp to the mustelid's elbows, and with a concerning show of easy strength, hauled him up, off his feet, and headlong into that steamy, sticky heat.

Thick squishes bore in about his senses as the squirrel suckled about his features. That plump tongue slathering his face, coiling his neck, and tracing under the neck of his shirt, before the driver's hands hauled him forward, and that maw unfurled into the long, hot, pulsating tunnel of a gullet proper.

Peristalsis took the lead, and his future, and dragged with inexorable strength. Every sluicing wave of muscle grinding him ever deeper, permitting little more than muted squeaks to escape the ferret as his legs pedaled and his shoes thudded at the aged bus-seat and wall.

Grinning over the sight, the squirrel groaned his delight in the succulent flavour of his sleepy late-dinner, yawning and lunging his maw further down the smaller frame.

Swallow by swallow, claiming him, and groaning richly as his pop-button'd shirt did just that with the mass of the meal sinking down into the broad pit of his gut.

As he slurped down legs and feet, the driver grinned and continued his path up the back of the bus to look for any stray detritus, smacking his lips with a slow final swallow.

Tromping casually from the bus, the squirrel let loose a thunderous belch, grinning at the second, more acrid taste of the ferret wash over his tastebuds, whilst one broad hand kneaded over the frantic bulges pushing back in kind.

It could be risky, he mused, as he closed the bus up for the night, to stroll into the office to collect his things. For the unwary traveller.

*****

The full moon hung heavy in the night sky. Waves lapped softly at the shore of the beach, whilst bodies wandered up and down it's length, between several immense bonfires. Around each, the mingle of drums and flute, of home-brought instruments free-styled in hearty celebration.

For the city dwellers, it was a celebration of the chance to party, but for their guests, the numerous otters who came ashore each season, it was always much more.

They traded, they drank, they sang, they danced, and they mingled, making it one of the most vibrant places in the city every few months.

The otters were sizeable sea-faring souls. Builds still broad despite their naturally sleek forms. Hair styles in thick swept braids and drapes, decorated with shells and beads and scales, where their short-grown fur was occasionally inked with delicate seeming, yet intricate tattoos that seemed to shimmer beneath the moonlight.

It was with one such lutra that the skunk beamed to find himself dancing with. The otter's fur a warm, light sandy tone, with eyes of deepest ocean blue. He'd been chatting heartily, animatedly to several other locals with a great smile and rich booming voice, before he'd caught sight of the mephit watching him.

Toby had perked a little with surprise when the otter's eyes lingered, and the large form had politely wound conversation down with a ruffle, a joke, and a laugh, before he'd wound his way around the fire.

The way the otter had approached him had his heart already skipping. A warmth in the lutra's smile that went past his exuberant nature. It was personal.

And finding his hands grasped in a large, slightly calloused mit of a hand, the otter had introduced himself simply as 'Kalèpo.' and asked in an endearingly hopeful tone for a dance.

While the skunk hadn't considered the idea much, the otter's soft eyes were all but impossible to deny, and sheepishly, he let himself be guided to his feet. Kalèpo lead, a simple, stompy sort of sway, no choreography, so much as it was simply expression. Joy, energy shared, and delight, that Toby found himself rapidly swept away in. From the first step, that infectious energy coursed through him, like the music thrummed through his every fibre, as much as the sips of the otter's home-brewed wines that kept them moving, laughing, embracing through the night.

His head aching slightly as he roused to the soft glare of morning light, Toby gently winced and pressed his face into the warmth that was snuggled in about his form. The soft scent of the sea, and plenty of warm otter musk toying his nose as Kalèpo roused, lifting his head to look to the groggy skunk with a bleary smile and a gentle trace of his broad hand along the skunk's frame.

'I felt the great one in you last night, Toby.' murmured the otter warmly, smiling as he leaned to brush noses with his dance partner.

'I thought that was just a lot of coconut wine..' pined the skunk, opening an eye, and managing a smile for the large lutra rumbling against him.

'Perhaps a little of that too. But you danced, with me, nearly until dawn. I think you are chosen.'

'For..?' coaxed the skunk gently, gasping as Kalèpo softly drew him closer against his thick form.

'For Aga O Le Sami's blessing. To ride the waves, and swim the depths as new family.' Kalèpo murmured tenderly, laying soft kisses over the skunk's brow and ears. 'It is the truth of our celebration. To come, to celebrate the great one gifting us new siblings, to keep us swimming smooth.'

'I don't know how well I'd swim out there with a tail like mine..' snickered the mephit, nosing against a chin, as Kalèpo's hands stroked his frame, kneading his legs, lifting them gently.

'That too, is part of the blessing.' crooned the large lutra with a smile. 'His magic pounds deep in your heart, like a drum beat, echos through the ocean depths. Where it stirs life to the surface. Would you swim with me, Toby..? Continue dancing with me?'

'Oh.. I think I could manage a swim, maybe another dance once this headache passes.' smiled the skunk as he admired the handsome otter's face before his own. Kalèpo's broad muzzle split in a heartened smile as he gently squeezed the skunk's legs.. and straightened them. A soft, slick warmth squished up over his toes and ankles, making the skunk's ears perk a little in surprise.

Glancing down, he stared at the sight of the lutra's shaft, thick and shapely, and currently seeming to suck at his feet, and promptly his calves as he was drawn downward.

Toby's muzzle opened in shock to question what was happening, only to find an answering muzzle kissing him. Kalèpo's broad arms embraced him, holding him snug to his muscled frame, as he rocked his hips, rolling his shaft up in thick squishes and soft shlucks as he drew the mephit ever deeper into his loins.

The rich rumble in the otter's chest buzzed against Toby as he found himself worming haplessly in place. Kalèpo's large frame slowly easing up into a kneeling position, to help pull his brother-otter to be in. His golden-sandy orbs swelled and bulged slowly with the skunk's form. Thick, gooey seed sloshed about his features, bathing Toby all the more as the skunk's hips and hands were claimed by the otter's greedy flesh.

Finally, Kalèpo's lips parted. He panted as he stroked over the face of the blushing, moaning skunk wriggling himself in deeper unknowingly. His hands continued stroking, squeezing, pressing, sluicing the mephit down.

'Nearly..' he gasped tenderly, nuzzling over Toby's face with half-lidded eyes adoring the face of the skunk. 'Almost mine, Toby.. Thank you..' He moaned gently, leaning himself forward to brace on a forearm, as the other stroked the skunk's headfur over, working him down until his face was framed by his pulsing shaft. 'Fear not.. you will return to your shores, my brother.. For now.. sink.. swim.. embrace the great one's blessing..' He crooned gently, as his sac squirmed, bulging between his legs, half buried in the soft sand. 'And become..!'

The otter's free hand pumped at his shaft in the slithering wake of the bulge of Toby's head sinking down wholly. His sac claiming the mephit entirely, and leaving the great lutra trembling, electrified in the grace of his sea-god's magics completing its ritual.

When he could draw the strength to get to his feet and saunter back to the ocean, his balls immense, squirming from beneath a woefully ill-sized loin-cloth, he smiled along to several of his kin, one or two sporting equally writhing loins, and several with wriggling bellies.

Slipping into the cool morning waves, Kalepo made for the floating village further out to sea, thick rudder swishing for the thought of the next full moon, when he would be able to release his new brother.

*****

The machines squeaked, creaking amidst the low grunts and puffs of strenuous exercise as bodies worked at each. Rows of dumbbells of varying weights lay well picked, as a floor-class went through a busy aerobics routine.

Large fans softly hummed as they circulated cool air through the place to keep those gym-goers smoothly astride their chosen modality as bodies trimmed and toned, flexed and rippled and swelled.

A number of eyes lifted when the double-doors to the main floor space both opened, and a figure stooped through them, unfurling up in a pale pink display of artfully cut adonic might. Moogle, some might have guessed at the end of a long list, as no one could remember seeing one so large. His shoulders massive, his pecs atop his barrel-like torso doing their best impression of sizeable slabs of river-stone, tucked beneath a snug singlet. Arms of thick, corded muscle that promised to swell like beachballs, but surely dense as a small planet ending in thick-padded hands in fingerless gloves.

He walked on legs akin to tree-trunks, with broad feet that surely took some sled-sized sneaker, With a snug pair of shorts that did little to hide that there was surely no amount of steroidal assistance in his build.

His eyes roamed, seemingly disappointed in the choice of dumbbells, leaving him to walk to the bench-press to start collecting the huge disc weights, and make his own weight as best he could with what he had.

And even when the bar that he used to support them all threatened to bend in protest, the mega-moogle seemed mildly let down. But he still got into his routine all the same.

As he got to work, mixing the weights among other floor exercises, the pink form found other bodybuilders approaching to watch him work.

'Holy-.. I would have thought guys your size would have your own gym!' chuckled one Rhino, watching as the mog held the weights over his chest, pressing up in steady sit-ups.

'That'd probably make things a lot easier.' The mog spoke, voice rich, but not nearly as deep as folks seemed to expect. He was remarkably smooth, all said. Small puffs of breath escaped him that seemed more rhythm-count than exertion. 'But also rougher too, k'po.' He glanced side-long at the Rhino with a handsome grin.

'Not like you seem upset by a challenge.' grinned a crocodile to the mog's other side. He glanced over him, eying up and down the burly form.

'Nawh, it's always appreciated, k'po. But the amount of protein a whole gym of folks my size would need post-build? Not enough in the state!' He laughed a rich laugh, switching his position, to lift the weight up towards himself instead.

'I mean, I reckon you'll struggle here for that anyway.' smirked the Rhino as he leaned in with a glance. A nod from the immense moogle gave him permission to touch at his triceps as they bulged and swelled in time with his motions.

'Nah, k'po. Plenty to be had here.' The moogle smiled as he rolled to his feet. One hand holding that impossibly massive hunk of weights, as the other lowered to grasp the Rhino by the nape.

The gym grew quieter, aside from several phones still playing personal pump-up tunes, heads turning to watch the massive mog lift the rhino overhead as if he weighed nothing, and promptly yawned under him to drop him down, and start casually swallowing the thick-built pachyderm.

Though he was a practiced professional in weight lifting and heavy resistance training, the Rhino's eyes widened at the crushing strength of the mog's throat as he was slurped down with almost mocking ease and a casual glance from the muscled giant.

The mog seemed completely unperturbed as he brought the weights near his chest, and dropped into perfectly formed squats, gulping smoothly each time he straightened back up.

He was barely half-way through a set before the Rhino was reduced to faint bulges beneath his pebbled abs.

'Holy shit..!' Yelped the croc as he stood to one side. 'Dude, you can't do that-!' He sputtered, as the mog licked his lips, and smirked towards him.

'No..? Reckon I just did, kupo. And hey. It's all good. He's going to a good cause! Check it out!' He rumbled as he kept up his squats.

The Croc could only stare as the twitch and struggle of that faintly domed gut slowly compressed. Shrinking with the faintest sound of rolling gurgles, before the odd sound of what seemed to be leather creaking reached him.

His broad maw hung open as the mog's body pulsed. Muscles tensing, filling out a little bit further, thighs threatening the fabric of his shorts as he gave a low groan of indulgent delight.

'See, k'po?' The massive moogle panted with elation as he converted the Rhino directly to muscle. 'A -real- good cause!'

Looking about the gymnasium, the giant of a moogle licked his lips with a grin. 'Plus, chasing you guys is surprisingly good cardio, you know?' His free hand lurched for the croc, his jaws already opening. Machines clanged and crashed as bodies started peeling from them in a sprint for the door.

*****

Samson smiled as he lay settled on his bed, arm draped behind his head, eyes watching the outline of the ensuite door aglow. Not long now, he mused as he wriggled slightly, and dropped his eyes to his frame. He was a lot of horse, to be certain. Not quite working Clydesdale, but he could still pull a mean tractor if he had to. His deep chestnut pelt handsomely kept, spattered with flecks of white. With a soft, pleased whicker, he lowered his free hand to cup the heft of his sheath and aptly described stones beneath.

For most anyone, he was a lot of horse to handle. Too much, in some regards. He grinned, before the sound of the bathroom door opening made his ears prick to attention.

Light gleamed around his partner for a few moments. A radiant outline, like a divine gift, he considered fondly, before the click of the light-switch plunged the fennec into the pale light that poured into the window over the bed. His small frame endearingly taut, but proudly curvaceous at the hips.

Hips that had Samson's tail softly brushing along the sheets and his thick sheath throbbing with imagination.

He offered a hand off the bed to his partner, gently drawing Michael up onto the sizeable mattress and atop his burly torso with a ginger grace. His thick fingers then gently traced over the sandy-furred frame, as he savoured the moonlight-dappled fox smiling to him, and kissing the back of those finer fingers when they drew up to his face again.

'Hi,' crooned the fennec warmly as he traced his fingers around his partner's muzzle, stroking tenderly. 'You're looking a little eager for something.' Michael continued playfully, feeling the stir in the broad body beneath him.

'Oh, just you.' Samson conceded. 'Feeling you wrapped around me, maybe.' The horse whickered gently, nosing up against the fennec's hand as Mick smiled knowingly.

'All of you..?' he crooned gently, moving fluidly to turn about, to knead over the horse's broad torso as the thick hands grasped at his hips.

'If you think you can fit me.' murmured the equine with a soft pawwing of his hooves at the sheets. He'd never known a backside so capable. And it drove him wild every time.

'Well, that sounds like a fine challenge if ever I heard one. How about you get me ready then?' Mick's eyes glanced back over his shoulder at the horse, his smile shrouded in shadow as his hands slid back to tease his rump-cheeks apart for the horse.

Squeezing those hips gently, the chestnut form leaned up to kiss against the hidden entrance, letting his tongue lavish out keenly to spread flesh that yielded only too easily.

He groaned gently as Mick's fur readily stood on end, and his thick brush of a tail arched behind him. Those hips trembled with momentary delay, before a wry grin spread over his moonlit face. Sliding hands back, he gently grasped among the thick mane of his partner's head, and pulled.

The rich groan vanished smoothly from the room, to a wholly interior sound as the fennec's backside claimed over Samson's head with wicked ease. Mick's eyes fluttered and lidded tight as he savoured the exquisite ache of such an impossible stretch, and adjusted his legs to brace, as he circled his hips to explore himself with his toy of a partner inching deeper.

To say the least of the first time they met: a hurried escapade in a seedier bar, an utterly indulgent ride with moans that had left half the clientelle looking sheepish as he'd walked out some minutes later, dishevelled, and seemingly alone, legs wobbling slightly.

No one saw the horse leave that night.

Much like no one would find him in the morning, he mused as he glanced down to his perfectly trim abdominals. Not a single mark of the massive equine showing as his remarkably stretchy, hungry rump squeezed down over those immense shoulders.

Which wasn't to say he didn't feel the mass and weight of Samson's massive form grinding and bearing down on every tender point within him. Moans rolled from him, arching into cries when the horse adjusted, worming his arms in to help press and guide himself deeper, knowing just where to knead, what turn to lean into, when to brace against the clenching walls that wrapped him so blanketingly tight.

Grinding down to his partner's lap, Mick beamed as his modest shaft brushed against the upper edge of the horse's massive spire. Bracing his feet on the equine's thick thighs, he grasped at both shafts, frotting keenly and licking his lips. As soon as he made that handsome lug of a horse blow, he was taking all of him.

One arm slid behind his head as he took his time in teasing the horse, clenching to keep him in place, as the muffled sound of that rich voice bellowed like a whisper under his navel. Ooh, not long now~

*****

'You're not leaving so soon now, are you?' Tal rumbled richly as his tall tawny frame slithered smoothly around before the dragon. 'You seem nervous, Essy. Just relax..' His voice thrummed against the red dragon's frame, against his mind, making the smaller male blink his eyes. Lifting a hand, Essy tried to push at the paler, toned torso before him, and managing to make the massive diamond-back naga move not an inch.

'Now now,' Tal chuckled as he grasped at that hand quite tenderly, kneading his thumb along a smooth palm as he snaked his tongue past his lips, down to collar the squirming dragon tugging at his arm slightly. 'eyes up~' he coaxed, brushing beneath the cute form's chin, and lifting those bright blue eyes towards his own, even if they attempted to look away.

But a gaze was enough.

Essy gasped as he found the deep blue ocean that was the naga's eyes drawing his gaze back, time and time again. And each time, his gaze lingered longer, until he was sure the naga's eyes were all but swallowing him whole. There was nothing but deep, endless blue..

Tal's smirk widened slowly and he gently withdrew his tongue, letting it trace the gold marks of Essyn's cheek, and the small horn on his nose-tip, before slipping back behind his fangs.

In its place, the naga took his time in slowly looping a weighty coil around his prey's ankles, and another about his legs.

Soon enough, he smiled at the sight of the red dragon sinking back into a roiling, whole-body embrace as the simple weight and shift of the length of his muscled form kept Essy handily bound in his power.

'There we go. That's more comfortable. Though, I know you could be more comfortable still, right my little meal item?' the Naga's voice oozed slowly into Essyn's mind as the unbroken stare held him easily in thrall.

Some tiny part of the dragon knew he should have been in control, resisting that lecherous smile and the soft trace of the deep purple tongue against and around his fingers. But as he tried to bring the words to the surface of that deep blue he was lost in, the coils gave a slow shift, and smoothly wrung him, tighter and tighter.

Air squeaked from his lips, his heart pounding against his ribs as his vision swam, before the warm weight eased, permitting a breath to return to him. A breath, and the clarity to stare into the naga's eyes again through a veil of his dark black and blue hair. The ocean rose again to wash away his will to resist.

'Oh, no need to tell me. I completely agree. It would be cruel of me not to tuck you in!' Tal rumbled and smirked as his coils shifted again, and this time, he eased down to meet the shape of a red tail tipped in purple beads, and golden paw-beans on lavender soles.

Chuckling softly, that dark purple tongue traced along ankles and calves in an indulgent trace, as he yawned slowly to welcome those feet into the inky black depths of his gullet with ease.

Essy's eyes fluttered as he lay, vaguely aware in the depths of those coils of the warmth, of the slow undulation, and pulse of something about his feet. Pinned in that warm, smothering embrace, with the deep blue in his mind abating without Tal's hypnotic stare to reinforce itself, he slowly blinked with rising awareness, before the finer end of Tal's tail looped about his muzzle like a finger, silencing him almost mockingly.

He could only lay in place, feeling the adjusting coils, as the naga's maw slowly, easily slid up in their place to claim him. Smoothly inching up with almost tauntingly gentle swallows, as that tongue teased and toyed its way ahead of that inescapable fate with blue eyes.

Tal rumbled a chuckle around his catch as his jaws spread over legs and loins, worming a pair of flexing and wriggling hands past his lips quite casually. He slowly spread the thick coils, enough for Essy to be able to glance down, to see him proper as he worked his way up.

Staring at that snug, black flesh, framed by a creamy muzzle, essy wriggled, pining in his throat as the sound could go no further with that tail-tip all but pressing him down the last few inches, booping at his snout-horn before Tal's lips smoothly shut over his face, sealing him from the world with the barest click of sharp fangs before his features.

Savouring the succulent flavours over his tongue, the large naga grinned as he straightened and relaxed himself enough to simply delight in the smaller dragon struggling, squirming his way down his long, pulsing gullet. That inky flesh tracing every inch of the retreating red dragon, permitting Tal to settle down on his own coils, in particular, one with the fresh squirms and muted squeaks of his latest meal.

'Much better.' Tal crooned playfully. 'All mine..' he hissed softly in satisfaction.

*****

'Hey.' slurred the coyote, grinning as he watched the snowy rabbit at the bar. 'Hey, hoppy. M'talkin t'you.' Hallow traced his tongue over his lips. Several drinks in, and feeling his earlier decision to go without a meal prior, knowing he'd snag something later in the evening.

And he'd found just the perfect late-night pick-me-up to balance the booze sloshing in his belly.

The rabbit at the bar leaned with ease. A small jut of his hips, a flick of that tuft of a tail sticking out of his jeans, and trying his best to look tough in the leather jacket and boots. He tilted his head to glance back at the coyote approaching him with an evident sway in his demeanour, and lidded his eyes for a moment to gather his patience.

'Yeah? Whatever you're offering, I'm not keen for.' Teio said with a slightly dismissive tone. He had to lean his head back slightly when Hallow managed to find the bar with one hand to brace himself, and leered in towards him.

'Not.. not keen for?' the Coyote blinked hazily, before he smirked when the words swum their groggy way through his brain. 'S'alright. You don't hafta be keen. 'Cause I'm hungry.' He grinned, with a string of food-teased saliva threatening to drip on the rabbit. 'an' you're food.' Hallow concluded, grabbing at one panel of the buck's jacket with a self-sure strength and stepping closer to gape his jaws before and over the snowy rabbit.

Catching the bar-keep's eye in his peripheral, Teio gave a small shake of his head, smirking. He stared into that deep, cavernous maw, and ducked his head back just as Hallow rather ponderously plunged his head down to claim his meal.

...Only, he didn't.

The Coyote stood for a swaying moment, confused at the lack of fur and flavour in his muzzle, before a finger tapped under his lower jaw, closing his mouth and lifting his head back up to face the rabbit.

Teio stared him in the eye, smirking dryly.

'I know I'm gunna feel it tomorrow, but alright. You've convinced me.' the rabbit said, before his own maw yawned, and promptly engulfed the coyote's shocked face and head in turn.

Hallow blinked as several conflicting points of information battled for attention through the muggy haze of the alcohol in his bloodstream: The slick, hot grasp that was pushing over his tall ears and down over his scruffy neck; The lack of the indulgent fullness of a rabbit sluicing down his own gullet; The stronger grip drawing his limbs out of his control, to hold at his sides.

At least until he realized at least, that he was no longer the predator.

Teio rumbled as he turned, to pin the canid's back to the bar with his front, holding Hallow's wrists firm, he took several moments to slather his tongue over the would-be predator's features, slicking his fur down with heated drool, as much as he buried his prey's senses in the warm, muggy, alcohol-tinged wash of his own breath.

He pushed smoothly forward, to squeeze the coyote's shoulders and torso down, bulging out his throat and torso as he swallowed with a budding hunger. Hands pulling, he slowly lifted the canid up off the floor, to turn and make a proper show of his ingestion to the bar.

Eyes turned to watch as legs lifted into the air, and more and more of the coyote vanished. They flailed in the air, bucking, kicking haplessly as the rabbit braced against the bar with a broad grin about his meal, working his swallows into a rhythm.

A rhythm that his crowd began to chant 'Chug!' to, laughter rising as Hallow descended, deeper into those cloying guts. The slick and slimy walls squidging about his features to mat his fur and expedite his trip down.

The air grew hotter, and more acrid at the smell of the bun's gut sloshing ahead of him. Several beers and a scotch or two well churned for him to start emptying out into, as his legs were steadily mouthed over, nibbled, suckled, and swallowed with casual abandon.

His feet's frantic, last-minute pivoting was muffled by a hand pressing on his soles, to push him the last of the way into the rabbit's maw, before the cooler air of the world was snapped shut to him beyond those buck-teethed jaws.

Even as he curled about in that belly, compacted under taut musculature, basted and lathered in those juices, the Coyote could hear the rich explosion of cheers when Teio traced the bulge of his toes down his throat with a finger, before slapping his gut heartily in their wake as he claimed the drunk coyote.

The rabbit smirked broadly as he rested against the bar, letting the taut bulges of his gut show for the crowded bar, taking his half-drunk mug of beer to hand, he took a long draught to cap off his meal, and bury the mouthy 'Yote in just a tinge more booze.

'Damn if you weren't tastier than I expected.' Teio rumbled down to the muted bulges moaning beneath his abs. 'You get good and cozy in there, 'Yote, you're not going anywhere.' He smirked before a long, and rich, thunderous belch ripped from his muzzle with a nose-stinging wash of beer and coyote.

Licking his lips, he chuckled, letting a spotted jaguar approach to paw over his gut with no small amount of awe.

...Maybe he could go for seconds.

*****

Ping!

The purple Jerboa perked her ears as she slid her phone from her pocket, heat rising from her cheeks as she gazed at the icon on her lock-screen. 'The Chaser.' It didn't ping when it was just throwing out a notification.

It had matched her with someone.

With a small shiver, Alice's thumb slid the lock-screen aside, to gaze at the profile displayed before her.

Wolf, Experienced Predator, Tracking specialist, with a profile picture of his abdominals, chest, and the lower half of his face, bared and grinning. He was pointing to the former.

And there, beside his profile, 4 gold skulls, 4 silver, 4 bronze. 124 confirmed chases.

Her heart skipped slightly at several realizations: That she was in range of being hunted, that if he found her, she would be his platinum skull, and that she was slightly giddy for both.

'Distance: 1 mile. Time limit, 1 hour. Hunt confirm? Y/N'

She stared down at the green and red buttons, cheeks burning as her thumb traced the side of her phone.

Finally, with a leap of her heart, she tapped the green button, and watched as the screen changed. A small loading icon, before a map over-lay came up, with the dot that was her. It panned out, until another dot appeared a mile away.

Her predator had been notified.

A timer began ticking at the top of her phone. Alice began walking.

Her heart pounded as she focused on movement, knowing how risky it would be to stop and window-shop, to meet eyes and chat, to settle down and enjoy the breeze and sunlight. Her direction mostly aimless, albeit mostly just straight ahead. There was no need to start winding and weaving yet.

Time rather ceased to exist, as she moved, heart-rate outpacing her footsteps. She kept herself from glancing at her phone, at least until-

Ping!

She shivered as she swiped the lock-screen aside again, and perked. There was a picture from her Chaser. It was the street she'd been on when she'd hit accept.

Tapping the image aside, the map showed her again, plus a dotted-line of her path. And there, where she had been the first time, His dot.

The space between them had closed a fair way. He wasn't sprinting, he wasn't running. He was strolling after her. With a swallow, she stared at the timer. '25 minutes.'

Promptly, she turned down another street, and continued on.

Ping!

The next picture showed up, the familiar cross-road that she'd been at, several minutes before, and the map showed he had cut straight across one section, gaining on her quicker. '15 minutes'

The alerts began coming, faster. She quickened her pace, panting more for the warmth in her face, the exhilarated nerves thrumming in her heart.

Ping!

Staring down at the sight of the park she had just crossed, Alice's ears perked with a soft squeak. She glanced around as she hurried over a road to slip down an alleyway, flicking her tufted tail as she fumbled her phone slightly. '10 minutes.'

Ping!

It was her. A picture of herself from behind, taken from a little distance away. Framed by the mouth of the street she was headed down. The street she had just exited. She squeaked! And turned down another street, twisting through another, to make for another alley.

His map on the dot nearly brushed edges with hers. '5 minutes.'

Her phone made a soft chime every thirty seconds as she moved, refusing to look back, legs stumbling a little as she moved, certain she could get away.

Ping!

She lifted her phone to look at the picture, at the grey-furred arm reaching out to her, just behind-

'Found you~' crooned a warm, smooth voice in her ear as an arm gently scooped around her shoulders.

Staring at her phone, Alice quivered. The timer had stopped. '34 seconds.'

A thick, humid warmth washed over the crown of her head. Slowly looking up, she squeaked, as jaws suddenly sank over her face and head.

*****

Gently, the waves lapped at the shore in their rhythmic wash and sigh of approach and retreat. The sunlight was warm, and the air drifting in only a slight breeze beneath the deep blue sky.

Figures dotted the beach in their own moments of peace and enjoyment. Some swam, some read beneath umbrellas, others shared food and laughter.

The lion rumbled as he savoured something of the latter two. Adam lay, sprawled sedately on a reclining beach chair, half covered by an umbrella of his own, letting the sun warm his honey-gold fur, and emphasize the size of his belly. It sloshed and stirred, making slow squishing, gurgling noises, with the out line of hand and face bulges pushing forth.

His maw yawned wide for a few moments in the utter, blissful contentment of his place in the world, before he noted a figure nearby, watching him with some modest trepidation. Turning his great maned head to the figure, Raccoon they turned out to be, the Lion gave a modest smile.

'Hello there.' He rumbled in a smooth baritone, rubbing subconsciously at his belly with one broad hand. 'Something I can help you with?'

The Raccoon's eyes were fixed on his belly, watching the shift and audible slosh until a small lurch made him jump slightly. His eyes found Adam's, and he blushed.

'Sorry, I've just never really.. seen a predator up close after they've..' the raccoon trailed off with a small swallow.

'Swallowed someone up?' suggested the Lion with that smile holding fast. He had no reason to feel abashed. Predation happened. The raccoon nodded and perked slightly when the large feline beckoned him over with an easy curl of his hand. 'No need to worry. I'm quite sated. I won't need to eat for some time, now.' He chuckled. 'Generally the best time to learn! Come! Have a feel.'

The procyonid looked up and down the beach, as if worried that folks might be watching him for such a morbid fascination, and with a ponderous step on the soft sand, he soon found himself beside the lounging lion.

With an obliging nod, Adam welcomed the Raccoon to touch over his gut as it continued stewing audibly. Whoever he had eaten must have been quite the contender.

'A bull, if you'd believe it. I hadn't initially planned on it all said, but a matter of road-rage on his part, and I can't say I didn't feel obligated.' He lifted a hand to pick at his teeth casually. 'Oh- Do excuse me. I'm Adam.' He offered that hand towards the racc, eclipsing his acquaintances' hand and half his forearm.

'N-nice to meet you. Marid.' the racc returned, finding a small smile budding at his cheeks for the Lion's rather earnest seeming politeness.

'The pleasure's all mine, Marid! So, just a lazy day at the beach for you?'

'Yes, a swim, a good stroll, perhaps some ice-cream when the truck arrives.'

'I hadn't considered the last one. That would round the day out quite well, I think!'

'Almost as well as a bull, no?' The raccoon offered, before freezing.

Adam watched him for a moment, impassive, before he chuckled heartily and nodded.

'Very much so!' The lion laughed and ruffled along the raccoon's side. 'The truck is a few hours off yet, I think. Tell me about yourself in the meantime!' he offered, gently scooping the racc up onto the expanse of his gut.

Marid gasped in surprise to find himself atop that belly. The wobble and slosh of it slightly unnerving, but the softness gave him enough resistance not to take a tumble. Blushing, he settled himself down, looking down to the lion, before nodding and talking a little of his life.

The chatter continued, minutes dolloping away as they talked, Adam's belly taking its time in slowly gurgling. Thick blorps and ebbing moans fading into a slow, bubbling slosh as the Lion's gut continued its task, softening, shrinking as Raccoon and Lion found themselves rather fast friends. A broad hand stroking along the raccoon's back, petting softly, whilst Marid's fingers itched warmly in turn along the curve of that belly and a thick chest below him.

Slowly, chatter eased, to a simple contented quiet. They both lidded their eyes in the sound, shared comfort, letting the idea of a shared nap take them into its embrace, until Adam snored softly, and bouyed on that belly, rising and falling almost hypnotically, Marid dozed comfortably.

The sound drew the attention of a few other figures wandering along the beach. A broad black and white Orca, a crocodile, and a broad otter regarding the dozing duo with a shared glance and trio of budding grins.

With a little nudging and some playful 'You do it!' 'No way! You do it!'s, the Orca took point, tromping up the sand towards that recliner chair, he stooped to grasp the base of it near Adam's broad feet. Bracing, he lifted slowly, watching the pair tip just slightly, and glancing back to his snickering friends.

One would surely wake, sputter and flail. But they kept on sleeping, the nap quite deep for torpor and bliss.

Higher, the angle rose. The trio watching with muffled snickers as Marid started to slide. Whilst Adam's maw yawned amidst his snoring intake. The Orca realized it first.

The raccoon's head sank into his friend's maw, which closed softly about his features. He started to stir, as the Lion's tongue brushed beneath his features, and a low purr rumbled in the sleeping feline's chest.

Adam swallowed.

With a gasp, the trio watched as the lion began gulping the smaller figure down in his sleep. The raccoon murmuring mutely in the embrace of that steamy flesh, waking to utter confusion as he was slurped down with the most casual ease.

As Adam's jaws closed around the racc's feet, and his throat squeezed his friend down into the burbling depths of his gut, the trio stared at each other, the otter gesturing rapidly at the orca who hurriedly dropped the recliner, making the Lion stir with a bleary groan as the trio took off sprinting down the beach.

Blinking his eyes groggily, Adam slowly pet over his gut, looking about for his friend with a small murmur of confusion, even as his belly squirmed with a renewed vigor. Settling himself back, he lidded his eyes again, basking under the warm sun once more.

*****

'BuuuuooooooouuuuuUUUUUUUUURRRRRP!'

The rattling belch escaped him with enough force to rouse him from his contented stupor. Eyes lazily flitting open, Mint savoured the warm cushyness of the bedding under him. The green monkey stirred his limbs, legs snaking among the thick blankets whilst his arms flexed and stretched slowly. His nimble fingers splayed towards the ceiling, before resting down atop the gravid mass of his belly.

He regarded the mass with mild amusement, rubbing sleep from his eyes, and smacking his lips languidly. Oh, it had reduced by a large amount, considering the number of delivery guys he'd ordered in. The mingling taste of them, especially that moogle, resting on the back of his tongue making the simian's slim tail swish.

They hadn't left him otherwise untouched though, he considered with a grin as that hand groping along the sloshy belly slipped down to pet along his hips and legs. They'd tried to spread out a little.

Oh well, he'd burn them off before too long. Maybe coax some cute guy in with them, give them a lap-dance they'd remember for the rest of their lives.

Snickering softly, Mint rolled slowly from the bed, stretching straight and murmuring for the pull of the weight of his gut. Slowly he relaxed enough to jostle his belly, cradling it in his hands and bouncing the soupy slosh with a grin, whilst he padded about the stripped clothing, some still slick after having been belched out when their owner was no longer solid enough to keep wearing them..

His toes curled over a familiar banana-yellow pair of underwear, which he looped back to his tail, and deliver into his hands, to practicedly stretch and step into.

Smirking for the shimmy of his form to stretch the supple cotton, he sighed as he snapped them neatly into place under his belly, before he tried the same for his dark cargo pants.

The cotton wriggled up, his tail and hands tugging smoothly, but inch by inch, he readily began to find the folly of his decision from the night before. The waistband creaked as he tried to pull it up over his thighs, about his rather broader, mog-padded backside.

Puffing a little in consternation, Mint looked to his nearby mirror, pursing his lips as he tugged and wriggled in place, grumbling at his pants staunch refusal to slide all the way up.

'Ugh.. fine.' He conceded, letting them pool again about his ankles and walking from the bedroom in just his undies, scratching the seat of them as he made for the kitchen.

'Guess it just means I get to lounge in my undies all day while I finish working you boys all off.' He spoke aloud to his faintly burbling gut. '...Though, I could go for something a little more substantial.' the Simian grinned, flicking through a few pamphlets for local breakfast eateries.

*****

The subway rolled smoothly, the cityscape rushing by, mostly silent with heads settled in newspapers, or eyes glued to phones. The afternoon peak hadn't quite hit yet, but empty seats were certainly at a premium.

The small red dragon sat comfortably with a modicum of room about himself, granted by the obliging figures on either side of him keeping to the grooves of their own seating positions.

Getting on early enough certainly had its benefits.

The next stop was announced, with the familiar soft pull of inertia and stillness when they pulled in. The shuffle of feet and bodies in the organic exchange of passengers getting on and off, and the vulture like seizing of freed up seating opportunities. It was nothing new. Drake's eyes remained on the far window, watching people on the station moving, and then being moved away from as the sub-way began to depart.

At least until someone stepped infront of his view, probably holding onto the overhead handles to look out the window.

The dragon's eyes lifted, and met the pair of blue eyes on the hyenid-looking figure regarding him, rather than the window. Clearly, there was a thought behind those eyes regarding the amount of chair-space to dragon, vs his own position standing.

Maybe he was considering on asking if he could have the seat. If they could share, perhaps. Let the dragon sit on his lap. Or maybe, by the budding grin, emphasized by one snaggle-fang, he was pondering on turning and simply sitting on him, right then and there. Drake swallowed slightly, twitching his thick tail as the hyenolf glanced from one figure beside him, to the other, and leaned in a little closer.

The dragon shrank a little in his seat with some nerves, before the hyenid form reached down to grab him by scruff, and with a prompt and smooth ease, yawned his jaws promptly, and sank a good quarter of dragon into his maw.

Drake found a thick tongue awaiting him in that broad maw, curling over him to help pull, as much as smother as the world shifted. The seat-and-dragon-hungry predator turning about to sink onto the chair.

A low groan of relief rolled about the dragon, before the maw tightened, and he began slithering deeper inwards as the hyenolf almost lazily began slurping him inwards.

Kai smirked about his unanticipated meal, lavishing about the snowy underside of him to appreciate the little dragon's flavours, as he suckled to inch the cat-sized figure deeper.

The little pedaling legs and the plump tail flicked and swayed about frantically, as consecutive swallows continued squeezing his plumper lower half in. Those jaws framing his belly and hips, lips sealing about those squirming limbs, before he slurped slightly louder than intended.

His own eyes widened slightly, looking about quickly. There was only one person looking up towards him.

He lifted a finger to his lips to push on the dragon's footpaws, wincing slightly for the tail curling about that finger, before he swallowed weightily.

The plump bulge of the dragon sluiced down his throat, vanishing down the neck of his shirt to swell his shirt in his lap just slightly.

Kai tried his best not to smack his lips, or to let the belch he could feel percolated deep within him, out. His tail swishing as the tiny dragon squirmed within him, bumping and pushing under the heavy weight of the fleshy walls roiling over him.

Tugging his phone from his pocket, the hyenolf refused to look up to meet his audience of one's eyes.

It was fine. He only had one stop to go.

The subway continued rolling on, the city ever whooshing past, outside the windows.

*****

The aged grandfather clock chimed deeply through the late hour of the otherwise rather quiet mansion.

The grand place was often rented out for such classical events as the murder mystery that had brought the hushed whispers of people examining clues that had been laid out that night.

Several red herrings laid in wait to incriminate the wrong person, in which case the 'murderer' would get away, winning the night.

However, the fake gas-lit lamps in the large building had all simultaneously gone out an hour into the precedings, plunging the group into a warying pitch blackness for several minutes.

It had taken them several interactions amongst themselves to deduce that one of their group had vanished. Indeed, one of his shoes had been found in one of the rooms previously examined.

As the final chime faded into silence once more, the figures in the house returned to the large meeting room, with its grand, mahogany table and stiffly padded chairs.

The dark-furred fox, Damien, was already seated. Samantha settled across from him, laying out the piece of evidence she had collected: a pair of stamped cufflinks.

Terith settled a couple of seats down, to be mirrored by Dylan, an otter.

Eyes shifted as they settled their own pieces of evidence before them. Damien's gold eyes rested on the cane that Dylan rested on the table. The piece denoting Sefra's character. The cufflinks before Sam were indicative of their missing fifth, Tsumi. They sat in contrast to the lonesome shoe settled atop the polished wood. It would have been strange irony for murderer to become murdered, mid-game.

Sefra rested his, the empty satin gloves on the table, making Sam's eyebrows raise slightly, before they turned to Damien with curiousity. They had all found something to note another, but surely the fox wasn't going to lay down something of his own to incriminate himself.

The fox's hands rested neatly before him, fingers laced. His relaxed gaze panning along his friends with that handsome, easy smile, before he perked his ears as a sudden belch escaped him.

A soft, sticky thud and a couple of clatters filled the silence for a moment, save for Terith snickering at first.

A smooth, pink orb lay on the table, soaked in saliva, and certainly more, as did a partially melted coin, and a pair of glasses, rather cracked now.

Only one person had more than one piece of evidence. The murderer. And both pieces belonged to Damien. The fox stared at the pieces, cheeks warming as Sam frowned.

'You're not supposed to try and bury the evidence!' the feline puffed, shaking her head, before Dylan narrowed his eyes slightly, unable to help a small smirk.

'...That's Tsumi's..' He murmured, nodding to the acid-stripped pom. 'He found your pieces, didn't he.'

Damien leaned back slightly from the table, letting Terith at least see his rounder belly lifting up his handsomely ironed shirt. There were certainly no twitches or squirms coming from it, anymore.

Puffing out his cheeks, the fox nodded with a small quirk of his muzzle.

'I missed his shoe when I shorted the lights.' The fox grumbled slightly, thinking of the sounds of the mog in the dark as he'd grabbed him. The glow of that pom illuminating the soft face before he'd crammed the delectable form down his throat. 'And then it was more a game of avoiding everyone else as long as I could.'

'Well, even though you're not winning tonight, you're still ending up with the best prize.' Terith smirked, reaching to poke that softer belly, making Damien hiccup slightly. He puffed out his chest with a small grin.

'Perhaps, but I was hoping to win to have you all as my prizes..' pouted the dapper vulpine. '..Next game, perhaps.' He added, licking his lips as he looked Samantha over with a soft rumble.

'Well, we'll need a new fifth, then!'

'..How about Julius?' The table dissolved into half groans, half chuckles.

'Well, whoever we pick. I suppose for tonight,' Damien murmured, rubbing a hand along his gravid belly, sloshing it's thick, churning contents. 'it's Game Over.'

*****

The plane rattled and quavered. Twenty thousand feet in the air, and something had gone wrong.

They were falling.

Otis stared at the thick smoke billowing from the engine outside his window. The tiny plane, though a handsome piece of engineering, was apparently not a well-enough maintained one. The one air hostess, a panicked panther had stumbled from the cockpit in the wake of the shuddering bang that had begun everything.

Other than the pilot himself, there were two others aboard with them. A monkey, and a broader fox, who were looking out their windows anxiously at the expanse of emptier land, far, far below that they were angling towards.

There were no parachutes to be had, and the shared feeling between them all, even if unspoken, was how unlikely a smooth landing was going to be.

At least until the monkey jumped up from his seat in surprise at a flash of colour. He cheered his delight, at the figure of the local city's revered hero, soaring up alongside the plane.

The door of the plane was wrenched open, causing a sudden storm of wind pressure and rushing, cold air, as he pulled himself into the body of the plane,stopping the screaming hostess from being sucked out by virtue of the girth of his body, and looking around.

Otis had never laid eyes on Barrel before.

The burly beaver's short ears nearly brushed the ceiling of the plane. His bright yellow outfit left his thick arms free, with broad blue gloves to match his sturdy boots, leaving his thick waffle-tail free. He looked around from a mask that covered the upper part of his face, though his green eyes were visible, darting about.

'Thank goodness you're here!' yelled the monkey over the cacophany of the surging wind. 'You can stop the plane! Land us safely!'

The beaver looked him over with a small grimace of uncertainty.

'Nope.' came the deep voice in kind. 'Not -that- super strong. And I don't know if I can carry everyone safely.' He continued, though he inhaled at some apparent thought, looking down to the terrified panther clinging to one of his arms.

'Then what, are we meant to draw straws?!' screamed the fox, only to fall silent, as the beaver made his plan apparent. By means of lifting the hostess, and yawning impossibly wide. He stuffed half of her frame down his vast and slick throat in one. Otis' eyes widened, even as they watered from the chill air. One thick swallow, two, and those writhing legs were compacted down beneath the hero's suit, belly distending a little.

'Called “Barrel” for a reason, mister.' The Beaver said as he tromped towards the Fox, to grasp him and tug him in against his broad front, gaping once more.

Even over the howl of the wind, Otis could hear the wet and heavy swallows, as the Fox's sudden concern of a different fate were muted in an instant.

The Monkey's dumbfounded silence continued, only until some rational part of his brain realized the plane was tipping further and further. The pilot was losing control of their descent as the fire on the wing spread and parts of it sheared away.

When the beaver's belly bulged further with the outline of his travel partner, he almost obligingly lifted his hands for the hero, who hauled him in by the back of his jacket.

-GULP-

And then, it was Otis' turn. The Beaver hiccuped as he offered a gloved hand, which the horse nervously took, after taking one more glance for the window. He could make out individual trees below the smoke. They didn't have long.

Barrel's grasp drew him up, and the biting wind fell away in a sudden plunge of deep, humid heat. The flesh was soft, and almost seemed retracted, giving him him room to fall, rather than be compacted down by, as he had almost expected.

Below him, the sounds of frantic shock and squishing squirms rose to meet him, as he slid with ease into the depths of the hero. The thick thump of a heart about him, the odd viscous noises of an otherwise normal body housing them as they were 'rescued'.

Emptying out into that thick belly, the equine winced as he struggled among the tangle of bodies. The walls that he could see, were pale, and twitched, rather than undulated as he expected.

Even in being saved, the frantic fox was pushing about, sputtering indignances, whilst the hostess' wide eyes said she was very strongly considering a change of career.

The world swayed and shifted for them as Barrel lumbered back towards the front of the plane. He stared at the ground coming up faster towards them, then at the captain, a screaming ferret, who he lunged his jaws over from behind, and dragged him out of his seat as he swallowed.

He turned to sprint as best he could with his gut so broadly distended, and uttered a thick curse around his mouthful of pedaling legs as he had to wedge and worm his gut through the doorway.

Perhaps it was the renewed sense of vertigo, as the plane, without its captain began to free-fall in earnest, but even as they were squeezed, compacted together in that belly as the beaver squirmed and wriggled, they could feel the lurch of the unseen earth rushing up to meet them.

The pressure suddenly relented, and the descent rapidly abated. Mostly.

Barrel groaned as he finished swallowing the frantic ferret, gasping heavily from that worrying squeeze to freedom. Turning in midair, he watched the plane as it spun towards the ground, the smoke-trail spreading slowly. With a small sigh of relief, he finally looked to his gut, now rather larger than himself, weighing him down towards the ground.

With a small grunt, he tried to soar towards the nearest town, though it was a rather more controlled fall, in their case.

They were falling. Slowly, at least.

*****

'What even was that fluffy bauble over his head?' Leaf considered to himself as he shadowed the smaller pink form. It wasn't really important where the mog was headed, or at least, where he had intended to head. The former was more for the green Were-fox to direct, when the moment was right.

The shorter male's sneakers turned down another street with a casual ease of contentment. His vestigial wings flitting now and then as he wandered through the dappled sunlight through leaves, seemingly all but unaware of the were-fox following him in perfect silence.

Leaf's name-matching eyes took in the otherwise empty street about them, and a grin spread slowly over his face before his tongue traced its outline.

No time like the present, and the sweet scent from the mog suggested he was to be quite the treat.

The bauble pulsed yellow. Reaching an arm out, the mobian grabbed at the moogle's hoodie, and hauled him side-ways from the street, to a small alcove between buildings. The Mog winced and gasped as he found himself turned, staring up to the trim, taller form of the light green were-fox, his impish grin framed in thick, sharp bangs. Leaf leaned in smoothly, and dragged his tongue along a cheek, savouring the tangy-sweet strawberry flavour that held no artificial tang. That was his actual flavour.

'Oh, you were the right choice. You were -made- to be my food.' Leaf grinned, swallowing the pooling saliva in his maw and slowly spread his jaws before his meal's face, as the pink form puffed, grasping his wrist.

The bauble pulsed orange.

'K'po.. you think I lead you here, to let you eat me..?' The smaller form asked with a tinge of amusement. Leaf hesitated.

'Excuse me,' the Were-fox found himself retorting. '“Lead me here”? You couldn't hear me, you had no idea I was even following you!'

Tsumi slowly grinned back as he dug a thumb against the mobian's wrist, and with a sudden push and lurch of momentum, twisted the green form's arm up behind his back, and pressed him chest-first to the wall.

'Moogles can feel people in other ways than sound and sight, k'po. The only thing you were following, was the bait.' the shorter form snickered. 'Y'know, I've never had Mobian before.'

The bauble pulsed green.

'Wait, what- You can't-!' Leaf sputtered, wincing as the pink form tugged at him to bend backwards. Wall became sky, became two blue eyes, and a sudden dark, fleshy cavern that wrapped over his head in one. The quiet stillness of the street became a sudden onslaught of steamy, slick flesh squishing and slurping about his features, lavishing about ears and cheeks and neck, before the tunnel beyond rippled, and dragged him inward in a tight peristaltic wave.

Tsumi giggled thickly about his meal as he braced the taller form. Assuring there weren't going to be any untowards motions until he had him secured. His muzzle wormed down over slim shoulders, a trait he found quite appreciative of as he sank his muzzle down over the snowy chest-fur, trapping arms at Leaf's sides.

The sauna-like heat suffused him as he sank inexorably deeper. Each breath-wringing squeeze of that throat dragging ever more of him in, as the more of him that was claimed for food, was traction to pull him deeper.

His muffled shouts gained him nothing more than a stir, and maybe the soft buzz of the mog's chuckle as he savoured his prize, inch by inch.

It wasn't long before Tsumi could turn around, lifting Leaf's legs up, he casually started tugging the baggy camo pants from those legs. He didn't often wear green, but, this was a prize too good to pass up, much like the swelling of his belly as the bulges of the Were-fox become more apparent, and nearly vacuum sealed.

Kicking legs were soon gaffed, and slurped down like tapering spaghetti strands, as Tsumi smiled thickly, looking over the broad feet trailing towards his muzzle. Dessert! He chrrled thickly as his tongue cupped about them, and closing his lips about those toes, he took his time in savouring his would-be-predator's soles indulgently.

The bauble pulsed blue.

His hands slowly kneaded at the bulges and outlines of the mobian writhing in his gut, trapped in position as his legs were held in such a position. Oh so slowly, Tsumi relinquished, swallowing the last of his nose-lead acquaintance the last few inches into his body totally.

Smacking his lips with a soft pant, he groaned as he kneaded along his gut, finally settling with the entire mass of Leaf braced some on his thighs. Fingers squeezing, he hiccuped and smiled.

'I'm not gunna start burping up golden rings now, am I?' Tsumi quizzed his gut playfully, before a thick wet belch escaped him.

With a cozy sigh, he savoured the squirms and that heavy weight, listening to the slow, sloshing churn deep within. The mog stroked over the moaning outline of Leaf's face pushing up from his belly.

The bauble pulsed pink.

*****

The squishy walls of the belly pulsed slowly about him. The deep shades of pink perpetually warm, perhaps more so, from the otherwise weightless drift in the large Leviathan he rested so deep within.

There was a rich contentment in his position, even if the air was a little thicker, and things could get remarkably tight when Aqua wanted to.

Oh, he'd made the request before he ate him, to get some rubs going on, but the trip down the river was so luxurious, he'd get to it eventually, beyond just occasionally reaching up to pet the walls near his face, brushing along their slick form, before he adjusted, rolling over slightly to nestle in another position.

The Leviathan in question floated easily on the unhurried current of the river. His deep blue and black frame an odd contrast to the green of the afternoon, sunlight glittering off the gentle ripples in the placid waters. Altogether, it was quite a savourable afternoon. Other than the lack of the promised rubs.

He lifted one forest-green eye to the rounded expanse of his midnight black belly-plates. Almost perfectly spherical with the mass of bat that lay within.

Lifting one armoured hand, he poked at the shape of his gut, nudging it with a small rumble.

'Don't you forget our deal.' Aqua rumbled softly, lidding his eyes and settling his head back to keep drifting with the river, closing his eyes again.

'I know, I know. It's just so comfortable in here! I'll get to it..!' Squeaked the bat through layers of flesh and scaled hide. For a moment, the mass of a belly shifted, arching, bulging with the beginnings of deeper kneadings.

Aqua's blissful smile spread from ear to ear. He rumbled richly, before the questing hands within him ebbed and sank again into that stillness. Puffing gently, the Leviathan shook his head. He had warned them.

The blanketing walls squished as he found himself twisting. One side, then the other, the bat squeaked as he was tumbled back and forth, with deeper impact on each, until the world inverted in a sudden tumble and latent press of what was doubtless the water Aqua had turned over in.

They must have arrived.

'A little more warning would have been nice..!' he squeaked, puffing gently, kneeling up as he felt Aqua starting to saunter, strolling up onto shore. 'And just here's fine. You can let me out now.'

Albeit denied the treat of a long belly rub of his own, Aqua just smiled as he continued padding from the river. Letting the water stream from his form, his fingers combing through the dark sheets of his long hair, he smirked down at his apparently expectant gut.

'Mmm... No. Not yet.' he said casually.

'Wh-what do you mean “No”?' the Bat squeaked, kneeling up, and pushing at the walls, only to feel them tense slightly as Aqua's hand kneaded over them, and himself.

'There were not nearly enough rubs.' The Leviathan said quite simply, as though it were the most obvious thing in the world. 'You'll be taking the long way out.' he concluded with a small grin.

The bat's eyes widened. He squeaked as the walls tightened again, wringing and compressing him. Forcing him downwards. His eyes widened as he felt himself starting to get squeezed deeper into the Leviathan's body.

'Wait, Aqua! I'll keep rubbing! Nooo..!' he cried out as those cushy belly walls mooshed over him, smothering him down into the deep pink depths.

*****

'Sunspot!' Roared the crowd, chanting his name, even as he struggled. He'd made it at last to the big leagues, the top of the heaviest grade of wrestling, where the most creative, the most dangerous folks stepped into the ring. Where only one ever seemed to step out.

And he'd been matched with someone completely out of his league from the get-go.

The wolverine had over a head on him in height, his fur a modest mix of dark and light browns, with black and gold mask and garb.

Wolver was seasoned. He was renowned. And he was making a mocking show to all those who had supported Sunspot, the black-furred weasel with a golden circle on his chest, by means of gulping his newest opponent down.

The weasel had had a modicum of agility, and his attempts gain hold hadn't been bad at all, he just couldn't compete with Wolver's incredible strength.

Much like he was shoulders deep in that compacting gullet, staring out at the crowd as the wolverine turned, letting him stare out at the crowds, the flashing lights, everything he'd loved the past few years, before the chanting went from deafening, to almost silenced, when those wide jaws closed shut before his face.

Oh, he'd still have 3 minutes to escape. That was standard practice. If he could push and pull himself free of that maw, wrench himself to safety, it would be seen as his victory.

But he knew well from having read up on his opponents, that he'd be lucky to have one minute.

Wolver never wasted any time in digesting his foes, and claiming their might as his own.

Honestly, he should have had a class of his own.

Those stewingly hot, heavy walls wrung like steel bands, packing him down. He bundled, curled into that gut with a furious struggle against abdominals that all but refused to yield. It was his mass alone that distended the wolverine's gut. Anything else was what Wolver permitted the crowd to see.

The walls roiled about him, slick and sloshing from the get-go. Certainly not like other bellies he'd been in, and escaped from. Not least of all that elephant who'd packed his with a cloying goo to all but trap opponents within him.

But this, was far more worrying.

'Sunspot!' continued to chant, his fans hopeful to see his miraculous escape. Their voices suffusing through the walls, to be lost in the steady churn of that gut as he fought.

No sooner was he within that stomach entirely, than he couldn't find the way out. As if the entrance had up and vanished entirely. His fingers scrambled slickly fur puchase, as he was ground and jostled. The feel of the wolver's hands bouncing him, teasingly pressing in like a trash-compactor to mock him all the more, had him wincing, particularly as he noticed just how malleable he was getting. It hadn't even been twenty seconds.

The air grew thicker. It was harder to breathe, to find the strength to keep fighting.

Everything was so hot and humid. His body shifted heavily in ways he wasn't sure they could. The muscle-faded light that manage to seep through faded, with the calls of 'Sunspot!' fading further and further away amidst the burbling gurgles, and the sound of thunder far above.

Wolver grinned as he smacked his lips in the wake of the massive belch, leaving Sunspot's mask on the ring floor. His gloved hands casually kneaded his gut, from the bulging beach-ball that it had been, resilient, sturdy and squirming, to the sloshing, moldable mass of mushy muscle that he had been reduced to.

Even though the ref knew he had two and some minutes left to count, there really wasn't any point. His hands lifted, crossed at the wrists, and grasped Wolver's arm to raise in victory.

The chanters of Sunspot slowly fell silent, as the rest of the crowd kicked up their cheers for their hero. No one that knew him ever doubted him to win. The stadium rang with roars and cheers and peels of clapping.

Grinning around at the cheers, Wolver lifted both arms up in a proud flex, puffing out his thick muscles, making the crowd's cheers rise and fall with his motions.

Particularly when he focused, narrowing his eyes and inhaling. His body shuddered as he flexed, and seemed to swell in the heart of the ring. Muscles thickening wider, his stature inching up, and his gut compressing flat into thick pebbled abdominals once more.

Several places along his form, dark ebony patches of fur bled through the brown, whilst a broad golden circle slowly seemed to shimmer through his fur as he took on bits of his previous opponent's looks.

'..Sunspot!' piped up one voice, almost playfully in the crowd, birthing a small, but growing chant and cheer. The wolverine licked his lips and grinned toothily.

..He was flexing. Arms pumping in the air. ..Had he won..? His body didn't feel quite right. It was moving despite himself.

Sunspot's vision slowly swam into view. The ring again. The cheering, screaming crowd, chanting his name still. His hearing sounded muffled too, slowly tuning in.

Catching sight of one of his gloved arms as he looked around, he would have hesitated, if he had the ability to. His fur wasn't brown. He hadn't won..!

Turning, he was giving a last wave to the crowd, before he smoothly slipped from the ring to tromp his way back towards the change-rooms.

'Don't go getting too comfy, back-seating in there.' Wolver's rough voice rumbled into the air through his lips. 'Absorbing you for a show always crosses the wires for a little while.'

Sunspot found he couldn't talk back. He couldn't command that throat, even if it felt like his own.

'Only as long as your markings last. Couple days, few weeks. One guy I think liked it so much, I couldn't get his markings to fade for nearly a year.' Shrugged the wolver, as if he could hear those thoughts.

Closing the door to his change-room, the Wolverine padded to a mirror, letting the weasel see his new, albeit temporary body.

'Pretty good, huh? I kinda dig the sunspot.' The wolverine chuckled throatily, tracing the outline of it. 'Almost a shame you didn't get back out. Tasty thing like you? I'd have snarfed down anytime in a rematch.'

The weasel's awareness quivered as the Wolverine put on a mild, playful show of flexing just for him. The strength in those muscles making him groan, if only in thought.

He'd made it to the top, in the end.

'One way or another.' conceded Wolver as he waggled his eyebrows at himself in the mirror.

--Fin.