FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

Enoch inspected the underside of his fingernails for dirt a fourth time. Waiting with the possibility of sex jazzing up the proceedings was a different kind of hassle than when he laid atop the covers willing sleep, but it had been twenty minutes since she'd messaged him. All the other employees at her facility had long since meandered out to their vehicles and left.

Still, he was still excited. This was just... disempowering. It was a Kindling booty call and things were stirring in his pants. But more importantly Dorothy was cool. She was smart but she was warm and personable and a league above a lot of the girls he'd been seeing. He found himself looking at her picture on Kindling a lot when they hadn't talked in a bit, thinking about how soft her snow leopard fur felt against his. And there was something otherworldly and electric about her. How things would just happen when she was near, like lights turning green or credit card machines not charging them. He almost swore he'd felt an electric tingle when he touched her fur. And hey, she was a manager. He was still doing regular freight work and she would at least understand what it was like to toss product every night and be too tired to bust a nut.

Too tired to bust a nut. Gods. He was losing his touch.

Then the door cracked, and like a magician he'd instantly tossed his cig and shaken out his jacket. Bomber, olive drab, paired with a grey hoodie and headphones. Enoch was a Doberman, tall, body from the cheap gym. The one that had pizza, though. He had a system and he got to work the glory muscles and get dinner for about $2 a day. He'd sent her a Bitter DM on that and she's sent back and actual picture of her laughing. His underwhelming member was getting a little hard in anticipation

At her fucking job, though? Whatever floated her boat. His mind was whirling a little. He'd been smoking loud in the car.

Dorothy cracked the employee door and gestured him in; quick fingersnaps but delivered with a warm smile. He sprinted to the door, running a little funny because his paws felt so big. She giggled that soft giggle he loved. It had been very, very loud in the car. Bob Marley loud. Argue on the internet loud.

Hoodie up, he sprinted in under the security camera. Dorothy grabbed his hand and spun him through the doorway. Her other hand gave the door a slap. It slammed and the sound echoed through the interior space of the largest food warehouse Enoch had ever seen. She snapped on the lock and turned, finally looking relaxed. Relieved, even. He stepped closer and she accepted his hug. They rocked slightly in each other's embrace for a bit with the only sound the buzz of the overhead lights.

"How was your day?" she asked, separating from his arms. She began to wander deeper into the warehouse and he followed.

"It sucked, but they were two trucks short on deliveries and we got to go home early. Paycheck's gonna be thin." His boots clopped softly against the cement. All around him the shelves rose at least twenty feet to the ceiling. Dorothy had told him most of the actual product retrieval was being shifted over to robots, tall skinny forklift things that looked like bucktoothed Daleks stretched to the ceiling. They'd talked a few times about when the same system would come to his job. He tried to push it out of his mind. Staring at Dorothy's swishing tail helped.

They rounded a corner and entered a clearing of sorts between shelving units. There was a picnic blanket spread out on the ground. Work wasn't the venue Enoch would have chosen to hang out and chat, but it could be nice. Just unwind, maybe smoke a little more in his car. His feet still felt huge. Ahead of him, Dorothy was quickly unbuttoning her work shirt.

"Uh, babe..."

"Remember those RPs we've been doing? The feeding ones and the ones about you having a giant cock?"

"Yeah..." He'd been skeptical when she'd asked him about it but it had been fun. He still preferred the physical act, though.

"We're gonna do something wild tonight." She slipped out of her work slacks, and the curve of her ass gave a gentle rolling slope to the rear of her panties. In just her undergarments now she sidled close to him and ran her long fingers gently over the bulge in his jeans. "I know you don't like being little," she said and tapped the tip of his member through the denim.

"I'm not that little," he said. And he tried to sound confident, but his voice fell at the end. He knew he was already lucky just to be with her. The fact she tolerated his less-than-average assets made it almost unfathomable. If this was a breakup he knew he was going to cry.

"I've been getting ready for a long time," she breathed into his ear. "And tonight we're not going to play. I'm giving us what we both want. We're going to feed and grow and be happy. And you're going to get to please me the way you've always wanted."

He'd stiffened considerably while she'd stroked him, but when she pulled her hand away it kept growing. Thickening and pounding with blood pressure and curving down the front of his pelvis while pushing out against his jeans noticeably. It was like an eggplant in his pants. He moved to undo his belt, but she took his hand gently in hers. "Leave it. It's part of the fun."

"Babe, what're you gonna do?" Enoch's heart was pounding. His dick was starting to hurt from pressing into his zipper. It had to have grown larger than it'd ever been before. He was still whirling from his high and he wasn't sure it was helping things.

He remembered the fantasies she'd played out with him on those nights at home. She wanted to feast, eating everything she could imagine, and have him thrust into her as she ballooned to the size of a building. She'd pretend to be a witch or a minor deity of some kind, whatever would give her the power to bring to her lips whatever she pleased. And it had seriously turned him on, even though he kept the image of his slim girlfriend in his mind when he pleased himself. But the idea of seeing her swell like that made him wish more than anything he could hold tight to her fur and rise into the sky on the slope of her belly, sinking into her supple flesh.

He heard cans clinking and sacks rustling from somewhere back in the warehouse. She grinned warmly and tickled the underside of his muzzle. "You do want this, right?"

The wisp of worry that had clouded his mind drifted away, a puff of smoke in the gale of excitement. "Oh hell yeah, babe." He heard the stitching protest in his jeans, and his shirt was feeling a little tight.

Food was levitating in. Steaming, succulent fully-cooked food hovered around the corners of the racks and between gaps in the shelves to converge on their little oasis. It was of every variety the warehouse stocked, and they supplied almost every restaurant and grocery store in the county. Ice cream cakes and peeled fruits and loaves of bread and every type of fresh and processed protein and salads and pancakes and tandoori chicken and tacos and pizzas and whole rivers of spaghetti. It was actually kind of funny, something he imagined his six-year-old niece would narrate with a million 'and then's. The stream was converging on Dorothy and stopped, hovering mere inches from her short, thin frame. She lowered herself slowly until she was seated on the picnic blanket. Enoch's balls were swelling too, and they were filling up his jeans. His shirt was uncomfortably tight now; and when he looked at his arms he saw his muscles now bulging inside his sleeves. "Babe, I fucking love you," he said.

"And I love you too," she said with a laugh. "You goof."

Then the food resumed its journey. Item after item hovered quickly to her lips and she sucked each one down in turn without chewing. Pizzas rolled themselves into tubes and slid down her throat. Gallons of ice cream slipped inside her, spattering a bit of melt on her cleavage. At a pace as fast as the sorting line at Enoch's workplace the food rushed toward and then into Dorothy and her belly began to bulge. No, not bulge. Inflate.

The food was coming fast, and her belly was constantly, visibly pushing outward as he watched. Drips and crumbs and loose strands of onions flecked the slope of her spotted fur. She was growing fat all over, with flab blossoming on her arms and legs and neck. It reminded Enoch, for somewhat discomforting reason, of watching kids put stuffing into bears at that store in the mall.

His attention was brought back to his own transformation as the sleeves of his jacket tore all the way along the seam and the back shredded away. The buckle on his belt snapped and the top of the veiny parabola of his junk popped up above the waist of his jeans. Gods, his dick was a monster. Even in this engorged state he could tell it wasn't erect, just too big to fit in his pants for much longer. His biceps and triceps and all the other stuff he didn't work out properly at the gym was swelling immensely as well. His striated, rock-hard thighs burst his jeans before his dick could do the job and with his denim gone his tighty-whitey underwear was no match for his veiny girth. His underpants elastic snapped and the tatters of the garment dropped down to his feet. He wasn't any taller, but he popped and shifted all over with thick, well-defined muscle. He looked like a model for a weightlifting magazine. He heard Dorothy purr softly and grinned, blushing under his fur.

Dorothy was expanding in every direction. She was inching up, becoming taller to accommodate all the mass accumulating under her fur. She was still proportionally enormous; her gut and breasts swelled and her undergarments had long since been rent to shreds by the strain of her flesh. Even sitting she must have been six feet tall and at least a thousand pounds. She had her head tossed back casually to allow the food to slide down her throat but Enoch could see the entranced grin on her lips as the food continued to slide in. A line of pies at least twenty feet long, all without a pan, was sliding down into her belly one at a time, dripping fruit filling and chocolate all over her neck and breasts. The conga line paused after a particularly heavy strawberry pie was swallowed and Dorothy snapped her head forward. Fat was bunching up all around her face, her cheeks puffing and her six or seven chins cascading down her neck fat to her shoulders. "We're big enough for the real fun, she said and winked. Then, with considerable effort, she slid her ass forward. It pushed the picnic blanket across the concrete and left her fatty legs splayed out on either side of Enoch. He could smell her sex down between her legs, damp and pungent. With her this close he finally realized how big she'd gotten. Even with her gigantic ass on the floor she towered over him by a good four feet.

His muscles were still growing, adding layer upon layer of meat to his frame. It was becoming ridiculous now, but it was only turning him on more. His biceps must have been a foot and a half in diameter and his skin was straining to hold all the new protein in. His thighs were so enormous there was no space between them even if he stood with his feet a decent distance apart. His balls had grown and grown, each the size of a cantaloupe and resting on the front of his thighs, pushing forward sloping little hills against his leg. And his dick was fully erect now, veiny and shuddering and at least two feet long. The shiny tip midnight black and practically pulsing. And it was still growing.

Then Dorothy laid back, her belly still rising up almost to the bottom of Enoch's muzzle. Her vagina was before him, just a little lower than the standing height of his member. "Oh, put it in," she moaned, and the river of food resumed its journey inside her.

He stepped forward, wobbling awkwardly despite his new strength due to the heft of his balls and cock swinging wildly. But as Dorothy gurgled and inflated before him he sunk his manhood into her slowly, feeling the slick tightness of her walls envelop his titanic cock. He placed his hands, each comically normal looking on the end of his megaphone-shaped forearms, on her thighs and thrusted slowly in rhythm to his wildly swaying balls. They slapped against her underside with soft thuds like a pillow being swatted against a bed. She was remarkably tight, but his shaft pierced all the way in before each withdrawal. His balls sloshed audibly, and he felt his sperm duct distending with his pent-up load. The chords of muscle on his neck were standing out like cables on a bridge despite his not straining them. It was hot and awkward and his whole body felt tight, but more than anything it felt really, really good. He still wasn't getting taller, but he was so bulky and well-endowed he felt like he could do anything. The power and fulfillment were intoxicating, and he wanted it to go on forever despite beginning to feel that if he didn't nut he would explode. His head was still singing with the smoke from earlier, and the sheer physical presence of his and Dorothy's massive bodies together was shooting chills up and down his spine.

He could still see over the crest of his lover's belly (for now) and felt his head sing with love. Her belly was massive but still jiggled and gurgled with plush softness, and when he laid his face down into it he sunk in like a pillow. Her breasts had ballooned and were rolling off to the side now, each areola the size of a plate and tipped with a nipple as big as his fist. Her arms and legs had grown longer but were proportionally small against her surging bulk. She was becoming caked with the detritus of all that floating nutrition. Enoch continued to thrust, amazed by his boundless stamina, but still he did not climax.

His muscles were becoming ridiculous now. Every fiber of his musculature was so swollen he could no longer fully bend his arms or legs. Every centimeter of his body felt hot but massive, humming with blood and power from the pads of his feet to the tip of his muzzle. Slowly he felt his arms rising by his sides, partly because Dorothy's thighs were so fat they were lifting them and partly because his chest cavity was so massive and chiseled his arms were being forced out and away.

Dorothy was moaning from pleasure, slurping loudly at the food that still continued to flow ever onward to her mouth. His cock growing and thrusting inside her and the strong grip of her absolute mountain of a boyfriend was making her dizzy. She slurped and gorged and waved her hands slowly through the air, too cocooned in the pulsing warmth of her physical form to think of much else.

Improbably Enoch was maintaining his grip on her thighs, but his own legs were being pushed farther and farther apart by all his new bulk. His testes were bigger than medicine balls now, and their sloshing mass was lifting him up off the floor, keeping his still-thrusting dick at the right level for his lover. His member had to be at least four feet long now, thick as a mainline sewer pipe and snaked with veins the size of garden hoses. His duct had swelled to become about half as big as his whole member on the underside, stuffed so full of unreleased seed it was stiff as iron.

They were both overfilled parodies of their former appearances, stretched and stuffed and downright deformed to most observers. But they grew and grew, Dorothy's tits growing to the size of compact cars and her belly now big enough to hold the contents of a large backyard pool. And Enoch was becoming almost a cylinder of muscle, bouncing atop balls at least as big as Dorothy's tits.

Dorothy's swelling bulk was pressing into the shelves all around them, and she kicked her legs slightly, sending racks tumbling in a domino effect back through the warehouse. The food was still coming, a stream of peanut butter and sizzling protein flanks and puffy cooked rice, and though she knew room would soon be in shorter supply than her meal she couldn't bring herself to care.

They rose up and up, like bread leavening on a counter, and when the crest of Dorothy's belly pressed into the ceiling Enoch heard it give a gurgle of discontent. Still, she did not stop inflating. He had long since ceased to be able to see over the crest of her belly, but he was thrusting and humping just the same. He was a beef slab, limbs pushed out and so thickly muscled they were almost immobile. He kept his fingers tightly entwined into Dorothy's fur, gripping it tightly with some of the last physical behavior he could fully control. His balls were themselves big enough that their mass was flowing over the toppled shelves. And he just kept humping, in and out with a dick that was becoming an extra-girthy utility pole.

The ceiling groaned and creaked against the pressure of Dorothy's gut. The last of a dozen doughnuts slipped between her lips, smearing them with chocolate, and then there was no more. She opened her eyes and glanced about to confirm, but it was true. She'd eaten it all and Enoch, god bless him, was still filling her with the thrilling sensation of his cock sliding deep inside her. She let out a sigh and her whole forms rippled and gurgled and churned. Finally, for the first time, she felt full.

Her belly rumbled, and she let lose a long, rattling belch.

The vibrations of her emission whorled about inside her gelatinous form, vibrating every molecule of her fat and surrounding Enoch's massive member with a deep-tissue massage of stimulation. Suddenly he felt something beginning to flow from his balls, now huge plush sacks lifting him at least ten feet off the floor. A shudder moved through his sloping, jiggling testes and he felt his dick bulge one last time.

And then he came, a firehose of thick cream pumping out of his dick with an electric thrill like endless lightning strikes. His shaft shuddered with the force of release and his muscles quivered and twitched with the sheer thrill. Dorothy felt his spunk flowing into her, hot and fast and blowing her up like a water balloon. Her breasts swelled and swelled, pushing up over and around her face. She was faintly aware of the creaking of the ceiling from the pressure of her belly expanding against it, but she wanted the sweet hot growth to continue. Nothing else mattered. Her fat legs, each at least the size of a bus, twitched in pleasure.

The roof groaned one last time and cracked, buckling from the push of Dorothy's belly and tearing free from the top of the warehouse. The snow leopard and her beefcake boyfriend overflowed from the rubble of the cinderblock ruins, out into the cool night air. Enoch made a faint gasp as the last of his seed flowed into Dorothy and he dropped his face to her food-splattered belly. He wiggled his fingers and felt the cool breeze against his hot muscles. He bobbed atop his still massive testicles and grunted happily. Dorothy, massaging what she could reach of her twice-filled belly, giggled. The crest of her massive bulk loomed over the neighborhood, almost glowing in the moonlight.

"I, uh, really enjoyed that," Enoch said sheepishly.

She laughed, full and resonant from her now massive chest cavity. It rumbled through his taut muscles from her belly fat. More than anything, he wondered if she could exert enough pull to bring in any more food.