FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

For the first time since stepping into the church, Elezareth smiles. A pleasant and polite little smile as if the woman were laughing at some private joke deemed too crude to share with the rest of the room. One finger holds Mary's head tight to keep her body still, and another finger slides up to rub over her belly, smooth circle patterns to feel just how warm and soft a mouse's tummy really was. Not a word spoken. It pleased the witch to note she couldn't feel king Trenway through the fluff and flesh.

"Well this is just darling, wouldn't you say ... John?" Elezareth offers, her tone actually rising as if to catch the man's attention.

"S-stay away from me ..." but the groom was having none of it, backed into a corner and knowing full well that not a single person in this room would lift a finger to save him. Not if it meant giving up their own chances at escape, or at least survival.

"Now that's no way to treat you're bride to be ..." the witch tilts her nose up to give the single most sarcastic glare a woman could ever give. She holds the groom in one hand now, and then uses that same hand to pet her shoulder snake. The familiar lashing it's tongue out, and the terrified rodent twitching with wild little scrambles. It was a noisy affair, even if it didn't end with Mary being eaten by a snake.

"Fuck you ..." John's response wasn't quite as eloquent, looking for a weapon now and finding nothing that could do him any good. Looking for an escape, but of course there weren't many options. He could try to run for the black flames?

"You already have, my dear John Avastway. And as fate would have it, you never will again." Her free hand twirls, and John can feel a sharp tug on his nape. No, along his whole neck, centered on his shirt. Dragging him forward with bodily force, what felt like invisible hands tugging as if he were a mere child in their grasp.

"Sqk!" the shrill chirping of a rodent was the only alarmed response to this treatment, the man himself digging his heals into the floor, reaching out to grab at walls, straining his neck to pull away from these invisible bonds.

"L-let ... me ... go ..." strained with effort though his voice was, he still managed to choke out a weak resistance. Once within arm's length of Elezareth the groom was slammed to the floor with a stunning force, the wind instantly knocked out of his lungs and all protest halted.

"We were to be lovers ..." the witch pines. Her voice hard.

"You ..." John gasps, pushing himself up a few inches just to feel those magical hands hold him down. "You didn't want me as a lover. You just wanted another pet."

"Hrmph." Elezareth sneers. "I treated you with kindness, through all our time together not once have you felt the lash of my spells. Everything I've done for your benefit or for mine, every minor charm you asked for was done. Of all the men I've seen you were the first, and the only, to have crept your way into my bed chambers."

"Hrrng. And then what w-would you have had me do? Abandon my family, come live with you in the swamps or some far away castle, through a portal to some other realm. Trinkets to pacify me, displays of power to intimidate." John gritted his teeth, dragging himself to his knees.

"So what if they were?" Elezareth pets the white rodent, holding it before her bosom and focusing attentions on the belly itself. Nuzzling and soft, luxuriously warm. One could almost imagine how pleasant her body would be as a human, so young and so preened.

"You just couldn't let any union be on my terms. Always your house, your rules, your power, your friends ..."

"My rules? My RULES?!" The witch wrinkles her nose in barely constrained rage. "Don't touch the explosive chemicals? Do not allow residue from your soul to catch onto a demonvine? Keep from tracking mud onto the carpet? What rules have I commanded that were anything but common sense, and an effort to protect you from your folly!?"

"I ..." John gasped, staggering up to a crouch even despite the witch's power.

"I am ..." he manages to get his legs under him, wobbling up shakily into an actual stance. Elezareth casually waves her arm to hold him down further, to tug at his throat. But to her surprise the man buckled, but didn't drop. His breath even more haggard, his strained limbs all but managing a low crouch.

"I am th-the man in this relationship. I s-should protect ... you ..." he tried so hard to hold his chin high. The floor he stands on begins to crack. The air around him distorts, a faint gust of wind as it seems gravity alone was enough to pull air downward for a gentle breeze.

"While I need no protection." Elezareth narrows her eyes. A hard crack echoes through the sacred halls of a church. Moments later it registered for all, that this was the sound of John slamming chest first into the floor. It wasn't that the pressure was too much, or even that John had lost a battle of strength. The witch simply adjusted her magical grasp to sweep the man's legs out from under him.

"Gyaah! Y-you ... you b-bitch."

"So while I was off preparing to keep my adorable little man safe and sound, you decided I wasn't good enough for you? Or are you going to spin this as somehow my being too good for you ..." she pets a dainty finger over the bride's mousey little head.

"I j-just wanted ..."

"You wanted control." Elezareth sneers. "Someone at your mercy who would bow before you whim. Someone you could impress. And someone powerful enough that you could benefit from impressing them. Hrmph."

"I d-don't care ... uuuggh ... what y-you ... think." John stammers, hardly able to move and now bleeding from the nose, but he wasn't giving up the fight. He had nowhere to run after all.

"The feeling is mutual I assure you. Just keep crawling around like the little snake that you are." She snaps her fingers in John's general direction, then turns away. Padding down the steps and addressing the rest of the gathered crowd. "Such a pity it has to go this way, but I can't leave any witnesses after all."

A wave of her hand, and the first in the crowd falls into a pile of clothing.

The screaming started about then, some rushing toward her as if it might help. Those were transformed next, two at a time, then three at a time, and then the brave were no more. The rest, nobles and merchants alike, rushed to the windows. Clamboring over each other, balking at the sickly black flames. Three at a time, then four, then two more, she cast as a splurge one after another after another until the crowd was thinned by half.

"S-stop ... stop this!" John gasped out, and as he gathered his wits he noticed there wasn't any magic holding him down. He is arms could move just fine, though his tongue felt strange. Was he protected against her magic?

"You did not even think to abolish our relationship until well after you were already involved in this tryst. You really do like to sleep around John Avastway, how many girls have you taken that I don't know about?" It would normally be impressive to stay calm in the midst of combat, or even in rapid casting of so many complex strings of spells. But with these people it wasn't a battle in the slightest, just a mash of her twisting magics on an ever shrinking blob of finery and human.

"What w-was I supposed to say? That I want to see other people? That our eternal bond wasn't as eternal as you thought it was? Admit it! If I came to you and tried to talk, you would have just bullied your way into getting what you wanted. Just like the monster you are!"

As he tried to stand, John took note of the fact it felt as if his legs were numb. And looking back ... he didn't have any legs. Instead he had one massive, extended foot that was covered from tip to knees in luminescent green scales.

Elezareth turns her head to glance back, a delighted fire in her eyes.

"Then won't you be so happy that soon you'll never have to talk with me again. Maybe that will take the sting out of not getting to be the man of the house." She maintains her tight grip on Marry, the little mouse a mere face poking out from between a clenched fist. A wave of the hand and more clothing falls to the ground, empty save some hidden scampering critter. Another flick of the wrist, and soon she was down to but five targets.

One man dives through the black flames in a furious panic, making it across to the wooden doorway and jostling his arms around the handle. Fire licks over his hair, his clothing, his shoes, unleashing the agaonized scream of a man who knows he's going to die in pain.

Another wave of the witch's hand and four more bodies fall into little heaps of clothing, forever changed from human to something else. Something harmless and tiny.

The man in flames, his bright red clothing turning to charcoal before his eyes, his skin being eaten away by the flames, manages to get the door open ...

He did not hesitate in the slightest before running out into the streets, the only survivor who escaped a humiliating fate. Albeit not entirely unscathed.

"Stop ... this ... w-what are you doing. What's ... what are you doing to me?!" John naturally focused on himself and his own plight above all else, bringing his arms back to feel along that scaly hide. Watching as it converts his clothing into smooth, hardened scales. Watching his arms as claws form along the fingertips, scales etch up onto his shoulders.

"If you would not be my lover, then you can be a mate to my Sathos instead." She tutts as if chastising a spoiled child.

"w-wh ... thatssssss ... that ssssnnnake isssss male!" John's voice cuts out as his lips extend outward. A long and much too thin tongue pokes out from between his teeth. He can feel his jaws twist and mold, merging together into pointed fangs on either side with a long row of tiny little sharp teeth. Each one curved inward so as to help prevent a prey's escape.

"I know. John." The witch deadpans. Turning her whole body around so as to watch the last of her transformation take hold.

The groom's clothing melted away completely into just more scales. Belly up and keep his head raised, the man's hair flowed like water into his skin and became a long looping pattern of black amongst the green. His arms sunk beneath his rib cage, for a while the imprint of an elbow or a clenched fist was visible beneath his skin like the scales were a mere sack enveloping his body. But inch by inch, moment by moment, the delighted Elezareth and the terrified John watched his extra limbs melt away. Converting into long muscles, hard flesh.

Naked and with his bare balls hanging low for an audience of one to really see, she watched with some gleeful satisfaction as his cock shrunk inward. Pressing in on itself, folding inside out. Converting from an external length into a discrete pink slit, horizontal along the snake's back end.

Slower than anything else his body shrank, eyes swiveling to the near sides of his head and the whole around getting larger, and larger.

Soon his spine wasn't positioned right to hold him up. He had fallen down completely. Belly up and hissing in wild anger, his voice gone and his clothes molded into his body outright. To the far left he could just barely see a worm probe it's head back and forth, searching for something. Straight ahead he saw the legs of a witch, saw beneath her wide rimmed dress. And of course, as usual, saw she wasn't wearing a thing beneath her outer clothing.

Turned into a literal snake, for a moment he almost feared she'd use him as a toy. Force his head into herself and have him that way, a fate he suspected wouldn't be as terrible as she might have hoped.

But the witch crouches down, poking John's side with one finger to flop him upright, the snake's body curling as he struggles to figure out movement.

In her other hand, holding that little mouse, she places Mary directly in front of John's snout. The mouse desperate to scramble away, the panicked squeaks and chatters as she applies useless little paws to push against much too large fingers.

"Eat up big girl." Elezareth taunts, John's eyes trying to make sense of the odd distortions in how his senses now worked. He could hear at least, words that rumble on the side of his head and seem to vibrate through his lower belly. He doesn't open his snakey maw, reeling back when fur and mouse were brushed up against his nose.

"HHsssssss!" a tongue snaked out to taste the panicked rodent. He could savor her fear, smell her aroma of mouseness. He didn't much care for it.

And the witch didn't pay any mind to his distaste.

"Eat, you'll need the calories when you're laying a fresh batch of eggs." She grips the sides of his snakelike jaws, easing a thumb through one end and her index finger through another. John tried to slither away, tail lashing back and forth and his body squiggling in place.

But he was so much smaller, and those fingers had so much more force. Reflexively a tongue slides out of its tiny little pocket to lather against her fingertips.

The mouse was inserted. Gently, quickly, and with much quiet little squeaks. Face first into John's throat he could taste the fur of his bride, feel her arms press into the back of his jaws while her legs and tail hung off the lower lip. Elezareth makes a motion as if to pat John on the head, but her motive was clear. To close his upper jaw around her, and hold his mouth shut. Make sure she couldn't escape. And make absolutely certain he had no choice but to swallow.

Gluck.

Alarm and disgust, he felt his bride's head ease into the pit of his throat. Muscles clamped down over a fuzzy little muzzle, the rodent's stiff whiskers bristly against his skin. It was like swallowing feather, or being tickled from the inside.

Toes eased past his outer lips until the only part sticking free was her tail, lashing back and forth like a pink noodle. The reality of his situation setting in, knowing beyond a doubt that he would eat his wife just as surely as she had been forced to devour her father.

He tries to push her out with his tongue, that stringy band of flesh having absolutely no muscle to it, and even less traction. John's efforts instead making sure to slather her nethers, jutting out between her legs and savoring the fluffy taste of mouse.

Dry and rough, like trying to swallow an entire cracker that was covered in someone else's hair. Marry was moving, pushing her paws outward and squiggling left to right, useless thrashing that got her nowhere and made John's experience all the more terrible. Sharp and poking with thin little paws, squishy and warm like a giant marshmallow. The snake's jaws had barely any saliva to lather, and with yet another ...

Gluck ...

She was down up to her hips.

Arms pressed against her side, legs kicking weakly. That twitchy pink tail was still outside the snake's jaws, but only just barely. Just enough so that Elezareth could delight in sliding her hands across the tip, petting Marry's lifeline and letting her know that someone was causing this. That some other person was making this happen to her.

Firm hands and a probing thumb pet over John's head, smoothing the scales between his eyes with just the right amount of force. Holding that maw shut tight, all while giving him an awkward low angle view of the witch's crotch. Squeaks cried out, muffled and weak though they were.

The rodent inside couldn't see a thing, couldn't breathe, was struggling to move at all, and felt that slick wetness of a predator's jaws all around her. Fresh and moist, the rotted stench of bile emanating from further down the tube. She could still feel the kicking and jerking of her own father, tucked deep inside a mouse's belly and struggling for dear life. King Trenway's attempts to escape proving just as useless and forgettable as Marry's own, serving only to make the bride feel worse as she perishes. Tears were on her eyes, but no one could see her face anymore. And with how much spittle was all around dripping off her face, that slick mucus preparing to send her oozing deeper and deeper, it was hard to tell how much of the tears were even her.

John simply could not cry at all. Try as he might, much as he wished he could.

Gluck.

He couldn't help himself, swallowing the mouse came as naturally as breathing. No matter how distasteful he found the idea, his body just reacted to her squirms on its own accord. That little tip of Marry's tail had vanished completely, two little dainty mouse toes and a bright white rump were choking John's throat, not that any could see it when his little maw was clamped so tightly shut.

John could feel the all too unwilling lumps of his bride's form jutting out the bottom of his neck, feel her head jostle to the left and then right as she struggles for breath. Elezareth was enjoying the sensation. Not of having swallowed anything herself, but of getting to feel the impression she makes. Cupping her hands around John's serpentine body and petting from all sides.

"Doesn't that feel good, John?" the witch coos, her voice lusty and warm. Her hands soft and inviting, even through the horrible situation he was now experiencing.

The now female snake responds with a mere angry hiss, muffled through the fluffy pudge of Mary's body. The serpentine tail flicking from side to side with a harsh scrape against tile floors. In the distance he thinks he sees the terrified scampering of a cockroach as it weaves between piles of clothing.

"We're going to need to give you a new name. After all John is very masculine sounding, and we both know you aren't the man in this or any relationship. You're new name should reflect this. Something tiny, something pitiful. Something that makes people think 'woman' every time they hear it."

The hissing gets angrier, but that doesn't make it any more effect. Nor any more intellectual of a comeback, John couldn't quite bring his jaws to open against the force of even her daintiest fingers and for some reason his tail couldn't manage to curl up all the way to his head. The snake would have whipped at her hand if it knew how, a long sinuous body that was basically just a tube with a mouth on one end was not at all similar to how his old body moved.

Still her voice taunts.

"Let's call you Marry then. After all she's not going to need that name anymore, and if we never see her again it's not as if we'll confuse things." Elezareth pets along John's neck, massaging down his back and straitening his tail whenever the snake gets too bunched up. "That way you'll never forget her. Don't you ever forget that leaving me, to chase her, was the biggest mistake of your miserable life."

Gluck ...

And just like that, Marry was gone. Reduced from a human princess, to a scampering mouse, to a mere thick lump in a tiny snake's throat. The feet and tail were the last to slide down, everything easing into John's belly with a single fluid motion. His mouth felt empty, and his stomach felt full.

For Marry the taunting, and how it grew more and more muffled as the walls closed in, was the worst part. Even past the stifling heat, the disgusting smell of rot and bile as if she was sliding nose first into a tube of barf. She couldn't move anything more than a weak twitch. It was so hard to breathe, so hard to think, with the dying flops of her father nestled deep down inside hardly doing anything to make her feel better.

She had to escape ...

Had to ...

Run ...

And yet digesting in place as a witch's pet unwillingly claims her name, of all things, was the most she could reasonably hope to accomplish. Not even her father's name, nor her last name with family lineage, but her name. As if to immortalize her suffering.

Thoughts and opinions of food were rarely taken into consideration after they had been eaten, and for John this was just a matter of feeling as if he'd eaten his fill at a grand feast. But instead of meal after meal, he'd devoured a whole course all in one go.

Elezareth pulls her hand away from his maw and makes a gentle squee at how much work she's accomplished. Fingertips now sliding back to pet the snake on her shoulder, showing her familiar some affection lest he start to succumb into jealousy.

"Now now, don't give me that look little Joh- ...OP! I mean Marry. You are the girl now, and that means you have to take up an entirely new set of responsibilities. It shouldn't be too hard, the men do all the work after all."

John bares his fangs, a threatening hiss that now starts to carry some weight behind it. The snake's tail curling up toward its head in a defensive posture, the little snake eyes showing the air of pure hate. At the very least it's still, unmoving little lump looked oh so cute on the tiny danger noodle.

He hated the idea of being the woman more than anything else, at the very least a snake was something of a phallic symbol. He could do without his wife, he could do without his family, so long as he was alive he could make do and would find some way to turn his life back around. And unlike everyone else Elezareth didn't seem interested in killing him, she wanted him too badly for that.

What was she talking about, calling herself the man?

The witch responds by lowering her right hand. Not to touch him, not even close to him, but as a pathway connecting her shoulder to the floor.

A pathway that the snake all wrapped snug and warm around her neck didn't hesitate to slither down. Looping coils as the Familiar's head curves under her armpit, then back around the other side, only to coil back under so a constant grip was maintained. Eyes locked on John, that flickering blue tongue lashing out, lapping up the air with a dainty little bounce, and sliding back between its serpentine lips.

The snake smelled of power, raw and arcane and of confident dominance.

It smelled of musk and sex and pent frustrations.

Then, John knew, exactly who the man was intended to be.

Head jerking back, the lump in John's belly swaying from the harsh movements. The other snake didn't hesitate to shoot forward, face to face and coiling its tail end further. John hissed and aimed his fangs about, dripping with venom and threatening to bite. But the other snake was cutting, shooting chin to chin and forcing John's head upward.

A desperate battle as the two rubbed neck and neck, one trying with increased difficulty to bring his head down far enough for leverage, the other merely using this as a distraction while his tail end loops over John's body. Then down the other side, the tip of a tail snaking beneath their thrashing bodies.

The hissing grows desperate when he realizes the ruse, John throwing his face to the far left with a soft thump over the floor. A little inchworm was right there, right in front of his face, so close he could taste the sliminess in the air. All that remained of a once powerful priest.

The other snake followed suit with its own more coordinated lunge, looping a strict coil around the base of John's neck just above Marry's increasingly packed lump. Then tightening another coil on John's rear end, keeping Marry constrained between two outside bands of the familiar's grip. John had just enough momentum to swing his head down and around, biting onto the familiar's nose and glancing off as curved fangs dealt so poorly with hard scales and a sloped snout.

To which the other snake responded by inching it's higher coil upward, higher on the neck and closer to the back of John's throat.

Pinned. It was hard to move, hard to turn, his body stretched long as that other snake held every key joint in just the right places. Then inched higher, until John was almost choked by the banded loops of this snake's body, a thick stomach portion wrapped behind the jawline and his head firmly locked in place. His tail unable to move, his body held secure and firm no matter how fiercely he struggles.

"That's a good boy Sathos." Elezareth complements her pet. "Go ahead and enjoy your new mate."

If John could curse and scream, he would have been crying his very heart out right now. A soft but angry hiss that comes out as barely a whisper when compared to the booming authoritarian voice he was used to. That snake around his throat and tail didn't seem to care, it had no reason to. The better wrestler had won handily despite a complete lack of hands from either combatant.

Mary couldn't tell if she was crying or not, everything was too wet and sloppy with a sickly green muck all around. Her voice went entirely unheard by everyone, even John couldn't tell if she was squeaking through layers of flesh and scale. Elezareth clearly wasn't going to help the poor mouse unleash any final words.

And King Trenway having this worst of all, was experiencing that existential horror of watching as your flesh melts away. Helplessly loosing bits of tail, his little fish eyes already glassed over. Marry couldn't hear him, and as his strength fades and her own predicament sinks in, had little reason to pay attention.

The familiar was quite happy though, it's reeking oily scent of musk shoved into John's nostrils. The distinctly male dominance on display as the snake pins him and holds firm, then starts rhythmically sliding it's body over exposed parts of John. Inching up or down, concentrating movements around John's nethers.

Steady and forceful, heedless of the weak back and forth thrashing or the bites onto air as John tries to protest, the snake took far too many seconds to find that slit it was searching for. A horizontal bend in the scales, a hidden away little opening it could focus on. Ordinarily the snake would have expected to be competing with hundreds of other males all vying for the same position and that same opening, but with Elezareth the little serpent could have a whole girl all to himself.

John did not appreciate that alarming sensation of something fleshy, hot, and stiff jabbing a few inches into her tail end. Probing the slit, feeling out the area and preparing to shove deeper. Not just one, but two barbed fleshy rods that seemed both squishy and solid at the same time. One poked it's way beneath John's scales, the other just rubbed against the outside.

It was like having a hot sausage fresh from the oven being speared into your anus, but for some reason your penis was feeling that same sausage go down it at the same time. A combination of the two organs crammed together into the same spot, and something the groom had never expected to feel in his life.

Then came the thrusting, harsh but slow as if this familiar were taking it's time. Enjoying this position, letting one barbed penis slide out just so it can allow the other one room to spear inside. Wet and dripping, but only little dribbles between their two loins. Splashing onto the top of scales or oozing some wet slime between their combined touch.

The groom turned her snake head up toward Elezareth and opened his maw in a desperate yowling hiss, a unbroken chain of squealing little snake noises as he was so helplessly ravaged in a full public sphere. Not only was the witch letting this happen, she was watching him. Her eyes pleased and her grin born of absolute smug victory.

If she could understand John's words she made show of expressing this. Instead using the opportunity to pluck a dainty little earthworm off the ground. And deposit what was once a high priest into John's gaping mouth.

Flavor of divinity, and slime, and honey, and bug all rolled up into a single taste. John's tongue working to push the worm out and proving far too thin and whispy to offer that kind of force. The worm probing it's head around in the wet slobbery environment, catching itself on curved fangs and rolling uselessly in a spiral toward the back of John's throat.

Carefully. With utmost casual ease. Elezareth uses two thumbs and her hands to force John's mouth shut. And she holds it there until hearing the swallow.

Gluck ...

And just like that, a high priest was gone. If his body was never found, there'd be no hope of resurrection from even the highest of mortal magics. Not for people who would refuse to touch necromancy in any of its forms.

John tried his best to gag, or to puke, but his new body literally was not designed with the capacity for bringing food back up. Only for keeping it down. Furious and terrified and still forced to sit there and take it as a male snake pleasures itself to John's new womanhood. The next words out of the witch's mouth were the last things he ever wished to hear.

As ...

With a flick of her wrist, a cockroach comes levitating toward her hand. Antennae and tiny little legs thrashing about.

"Eat up, Marry." She chides gently as if speaking to an infant. "You're going to need a lot of protein for all the eggs you're going to be laying."

The cockroach shoved toward John's maw, the groom doing his best to keep his lips closed while that tickly, chitin covered little body is slipped down inside. Once more the mouth physically held shut until forced to gulp, forced to swallow the panicked little bug all the way down. He couldn't even tell who this was. A guard? One of the many other royalty come to bear witness?

It could have been any member of his own family and John would never know, never be able to recognize them.

"There's a lot of delectable little snacks around here."

'no ...' John thought, choked and stuffed and being raped even as this witch pushes her victory ever further.

"And we aren't leaving this Chapel until you've eaten them all~"

If any could hear how loudly and how fiercely John was thinking the word 'no' he would have looked far less pathetic than this moment suggests.