FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

Word of Prince John's greed had spread far and wide across England, leaving no one uninformed about the unfathomable wealth that the weaselly lion hoarded for himself. Many cursed his name for the hardships that they unfairly had to endure as a result of his excessive taxation policies. The townsfolk had it rough enough given the work that they did, and the way that practically every coin earned went to the selfish prince hurt them all the more. They just needed some help.

And that's where Robin Hood came in. Sick of the injustice that had plagued the kingdom's subjects, he took it upon himself to right the wrongs that he saw. The rich had plenty of wealth to go around, so he didn't feel like they'd really notice if some of their gains went missing. And if he wanted to do the most amount of good for the least amount of effort, there was really only one person to target - Prince John.

With a sneakiness that his species was renowned for he effortlessly shimmied his way onto castle grounds, well out of sight of any guards that may be lurking around any of its many corners. From there he clambered up through the structure until he made it to the prince's royal quarters, where all of the ill-gotten goods were kept. Apparently the feline was in the midst of a deep sleep as neither he nor his loyal servant, Sir Hiss, heard him come and go as he pleased.

As he was only one person, he could only carry so much before he had to skedaddle as taking too much with him could potentially slow him down enough to get caught. The bags of loot held in each of his hands was plenty to get the people across the land back on their feet before the lazy prince knew what had happened.

Among the recovered treasure were quite a few pieces of jewelry that he knew for a fact would fetch a hefty sum, and while he wasn't much for wearing anything of the sort normally, he couldn't help his eye be drawn to one trinket in particular.

In Robin Hood's hands lay an amulet, expertly crafted, though clearly by someone using rudimentary tools as evident by how some edges weren't as neat as what jewelers of his day could manage. Still though, it was a labour of love that he couldn't look away from. The thought of what to do with these pieces in particular ran through his mind, but for the time being he found no reason not to wear the pendant. He did good that day; he deserved to treat himself just like anyone else.

But successes like his required a lot of expended effort. Barely half an hour had passed since he reclined at the base of a tree while examining his loot before he felt the heavy threads of exhaustion pull him to sleep. Not that he minded, of course, as he felt that he'd earned it.

Little did he know that the piece of jewelry that he wore around his neck once belonged to a ruler of this land from eons ago, a particularly hedonistic man who enjoyed any sort of pleasure of the flesh. His name had since been lost to time as his rule had been handily overthrown, though the pendant persisted in the collections of whomever came across it. Not one person had decided to wear it during all that time until now.

It was for good reason too, even if no one knew why. The essence of that ruler had been imprinted into the ornately decorated trinket, ready to seep back into its current wearer, but as it'd been locked away since then the power lay dormant. That made him the first person to activate that power since it was originally worn, and he'd soon understand why that was such a big deal.

The sensation of finding himself so cognizant of a dream had Robin Hood a little taken aback as he'd not felt any kind of lucidity in quite some time. It amazed him how authentic everything felt as he gave his body an experimental touch, though he couldn't help but wonder what he was meant to be doing.

His question had been answered as he finally noticed a large banquet table laid out, with food of all kinds covering the long piece of furniture. What struck him as odd, however, was that, even though there was enough room to accommodate many people, there was only one seat, presumably meant for him. Wait, this _wasn't_real, right? No, it couldn't have been - the only place that he'd find something like this was in the prince's castle, and there wasn't a chance that he'd ever be invited there for an event like this.

Even more damning was the fact that not a single other soul was around, making it all the more obvious that he'd conjured up the food himself. He shrugged his shoulders as he took his seat, thinking it to be a sign that his body craved a good meal that he'd not had in ages.

Man, everything smelled incredible! He didn't even wait to look down the table at all that was offered before grabbing the first thing in front of him - an entire cooked chicken. Ripping off one of the legs, he sunk his teeth into the crispy flesh and involuntarily moaned as the juices of the meat poured into his mouth. Never before did he have meat this exquisitely prepared, which made it a little odd that he was able to think of how it would taste so easily.

But he wasn't about to stop and ponder that as his hands had already grabbed the next leg. More of the succulent meat practically fell off of the bone as he tore it away with his teeth, the burden of chewing seemingly nonexistent. Heh, he could get used to this.

More and more he devoured the chicken, the herbs that it roasted with calling to him as if to entice him further. It was probably the most delicious thing that he'd ever tasted, and it made him wish that he could somehow bring this back to the waking world with him. The rest of his crew had to try this for themselves!

It wasn't long before the whole bird was picked clean, with Robin grateful that he got to consume something as savoury as that was. He had to laugh that he let himself go so easily without doing anything to stop himself, but this was all a dream so what did it matter?

The strangest thing that Robin Hood had only just noticed was that he didn't seem to feel any of the effects of eating at all, mainly that his hunger never decreased. Well, it sort of made sense to him given that none of what he was experiencing really existed. He might as well just keep going.

And that's when he discovered that the platter of chicken that used to be in front of him had been traded out for a glazed ham, yet he never saw anyone around to perform the action, absolutely sure that he didn't do it! It must've been just another manifestation of his dream, he figured.

It was a good thing that there were no consequences to his eating as he immediately sunk his teeth into the rich piece of meat, his eyes widening when he realized that the ham was somehow even more delicious than the previous offering. He tore off a hunk and swallowed it without chewing, the warm feeling of satiating himself enveloping his body.

The ham didn't stand a chance as he devoured every last piece of meat that it had, just about gnawing on the bone for more. He sighed, contentment riding high. If this was what the prince got to experience on a daily basis then he and his men ought to pay him a visit more often.

Wait, magically changing plates weren't the weirdest thing that he noticed - him accumulating fat out of nowhere was. Barely any time had passed at all! How had he digested his meals so already? Again, his mind went back to the concept that he was imagining all of this, even though the paunch that had grown on his usually lithe midsection felt astonishingly real. It was rather nice, all things considered, and he understood how Little John handily managed to stay warm in their harsh winters.

To his surprise, the discovery that he'd gained weight didn't make him slow down at all. In fact, he was ready to tackle the next dish served to him.

That ended up being a bowl of silky-smooth mashed potatoes, rich with butter and generously seasoned with garlic. He had no idea that a side could be as good as this one was! The way that the flavours danced on his taste buds had him gobbling down every last little scrap of food left in the vessel, using the spoon to shovel it all into his mouth.

The sides of his tunic began to push out even further as his stomach piled fat on at a rapid rate, now also caking the rest of his body in a layer of pudge. Arms that used to squeeze through tight places to grab at something would now struggle to do so as they filled out the sleeves without trying.

It was rather embarrassing in Robin Hood's eyes, but the sensation of his plush rolls rubbing up against one another was beginning to feel good - really good, in fact. As his weight started to rise, so did his erection, contouring around his burgeoning tummy. The tip of his cock used to reach his belly button no problem, but with all the weighty flesh in the way it seemed like that would never happen again.

Until it did. Like his skyrocketing weight, his schlong, too, got in on the action and started to surge up along his growing stomach. The feeling of his overly sensitive shaft getting stroked by his own rolls caused him to stop stuffing his face for the briefest of seconds, eliciting something akin to a mix of both a moan and a whimper. It'd been too long since he'd taken the time to pleasure himself, so his body made sure to remind him just how pent up he was.

And it wasn't just length either as his meaty hog fattened along with the rest of him. His balls followed suit as well, engorging themselves with size as they audibly churned up potent foxbatter that spurred on his arousal further.

To his dismay he ran into a snag - his continued feasting pushed his midsection out so much that more than two feet of pudgy flesh prevented him from continuing to eat. He felt it to be rather odd that he didn't concoct some sort of measure against this kind of thing from happening, but he'd never dreamt this before so he didn't even think of what could've happened to him. Well, all good things must come to an end, right?

Not quite, as, from out of nowhere, pairs of ghostly hands appeared. At first he was alarmed at the numerous free-roaming appendages coalescing around his area, but he soon discovered what their intentions were when he started picking up plates and bringing them his way. They were here to help him!

And help him they did, piling food into his mouth faster and more efficiently than he could, careful not to let even a drop of savoury gravy spill onto his many neck rolls. Any misplaced food was a travesty that they wouldn't tolerate as they were determined to get everything into the hungry canine.

The aid that the hands gave him ballooned his weight, his tunic giving up the proverbial ghost as it could no longer contain his overwhelming bulk. It was for good reason as he now weighed more than twice what Little John did and he showed no signs of slowing down.

A slight gasp left Robin Hood's mouth as he discovered the secondary objective of the hands - helping him get his rocks off. He moaned through the heaps of food being loaded into his mouth as his swelling cock inundated what had to have been the strongest chair in existence, sending him hurting to the floor as his person-sized shaft broke his fall. He didn't even feel a thing!

He didn't feel anything but pleasure, of course, as the hands actively coaxed his foxhood to grow, no longer letting his body take care of it. That didn't bother him in the slightest as he was on cloud nine.

Having the table be so high up gave him ample room for his member to expand, swallowing up all the room underneath as he claimed it for his own. His swollen orbs had a different plan in mind, however, as they continued their development behind him, giving him a constantly throbbing seat for his newfound tons of fox lard to rest against.

More and more he consumed everything that these generous hands fed him, thankful that they were here to help him with the Herculean task of feeding himself. He made sure to not waste anything that they gave him as he wanted nothing more than to finish the feast in front of him. Was that even possible?

He was sure to find out as meals that could've fed families of five for months were chewed up and swallowed in a matter of moments. The flavours of every meal - both rich and delicate - all coated his tongue before he threw it down his greedy gullet, awaiting more to come. He made sure that his mouth was always clear for the next batch.

Now he couldn't be sure, but it almost seemed like there were more ghost hands around to help him. His mind spun trying to keep track of them all as they flew around the room doing everything that they could to pamper him. He was fed; his lardaceous flesh was thoroughly rubbed, excellent for aiding in digestion; his blossoming pillar was caressed to the point that bucket loads of precum leaked out of a cocktip that a person could slip into... Man, he really wished that he could remember this dream for later!

His roguish visage all but hidden beneath a sea of orange-and-white-furred flab, he kept his consuming up as the hands fed him what looked like enough food to cover the table. Wait, where were they getting all of this from? Eh, that didn't matter as it all tasted good in the end anyway.

It was a competition between his musky, veiny cum tanks and his rippling, doughy ass to see which part of him would conquer which, each one doing an excellent job of keeping up with the other. While his monolithic package was more than enough to topple any of the peasant's houses all on its own, his ocean of lard pooling across the floor like lava made sure to keep it a contender.

While this banquet hall was easily the biggest room that he'd ever seen in his life - almost seeming like it grew to contain him no matter what size that he got - he was well on his way to taking up just about all the space that it had to offer. It was a piece of cake with the rate that he was growing, especially when he'd already eaten several dozen and added their mass to his own.

Robin Hood was an eating machine as he took in enough food to feed the whole of England for a year, not even stopping to chew at this point as the furnace that his stomach had become hungered for more fuel to grow, desiring nothing more than to endlessly spread his rolls across his entire dreamscape.

All the while the hands continued their pace on his prick, materializing more out of thin air as his surging junk could likely smother all of Nottingham at this point. While it may not have grown nearly as wide at what his blobby, immobile body had become, the fact that it stayed the course and benefited from his growth meant that it easily could've weighed just as much as the rest of him. The thought got him to spurt out another glob of thick pre, adding to the pond's worth that pooled on the floor below him.

The hands on his shaft might actually be winning out as the intense euphoric bliss pummeling his gargantuanly flabby form shook his concentration on eating more and more. Soon his mind was awash with wanting to cum rather than eat, which the hands carrying the food sensed as they all migrated to the pulsing obelisk of foxy fuckmeat, tree-trunk thick veins supplying nutritious blood to ensure that it remained diamond-hard the whole time.

His desire to unleash his massive, pent-up cum tanks overwhelmed him, leaving him begging for the hands to work their magic and help him get off. He felt that they weren't doing as much as they could've, though it wasn't for lack of trying. There was just so much of him that they pretty much couldn't keep up, needing a never-ending supply of them in order to cover every spot on his genitals.

Soon his package overtook the rest of his body, his immobile form going along for the ride as it rose high into the disturbingly endless banquet hall. His balls alone could cover England now if given the chance, but wanting to drain them only made them huger. The downright need to cum somehow fueled him just as much as the food did, making him hornier than he'd ever been in his life. It was like he was eternally getting edged, so close to release and yet so far. He just needed a stronger push, one that could let him finally empty his load, one that--

Robin Hood awoke with a gasp as he struggled to regain his bearings. How long had he been out for? He had no way of knowing, though by the way that the moon still hung high overhead indicated that he hadn't slept for long. Huh, he must've only napped.

Man, that dream felt bizarrely real; what was up with it? When had he ever wanted to get so huge that he covered the entire countryside with his own flabby body? He was a rogue - he was meant to be slender and agile! Of all the nonsense that he could've--

He froze, his eyes wide as the dinner plates that he ate off of when he saw that he wasn't wearing his tunic anymore, shredded to ribbons by pillowy fat that piled all over his frame much like it did in his dream. While he wasn't anywhere near the landwhale that he'd imagined himself as being, he was still many times the fox that he was when he fell asleep. He must've gained a couple hundred pounds over the course of his nap, but how?

The answer to that would have to wait as he quickly made another discovery - like his dream body, his cock had grown in addition to his weight. It was big enough around that he couldn't even hold it with both hands and it shot up to eye level.

And it wanted to blow. His enhanced arousal in his imagination translated to the real world, leaving him on a hair-trigger. That was fortuitous as, unlike in his head, there wasn't any chance of endlessly growing forever here, meaning that his slight caressing was enough to push him over the edge of climax.

Letting out an embarrassingly needier moan than he thought he could muster, he felt his cumpipe bulge out with virile foxbatter, his fat knee-slapper balls supplying him with untold litres of seed that shot out in arcs and splashed on the ground in front of him. The pleasure coursed through him, overwhelming in his intensity as it dropped him to his knees. He had no idea that being this horny was even possible!

It felt like hours before the last of his spunk splattered onto the now muddy ground, leaving him with just enough energy to take stock of the situation. This was so much to handle - what caused it all to happen?

And then it hit him - the pendant! Instantly his sausage-like fingers shot for the necklace and pulled, only to stop when he realized that he couldn't pull it past his many neck rolls. The chain managed to remain around his neck, though it wasn't flexible enough to squeeze his fat through it. Uh oh.

He looked bigger than Little John right now! Actually, he might even be bigger than the bear despite being the shorter of the two! But it gave him an idea. What if he was able to find his crew member - would the ursine be able to help him get this infernal thing off?

Or could his friend at least get him off instead? His throbbing cock liked the thought of that.