FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

Ysra growled in self-satisfaction, low canine whines escaping her throat now and again as the Nord werewolf lounged indulgently in the cave, back against the hard rock and bulging abdomen spreading her thighs as it swelled between them. Every now and again an obscenity would escape her throat, yelled from her prey desperately struggling to escape her stomach. Sigvald had frustrated her enough for a lifetime, and now he was paying for it.

The she-wolf's mate had come home piss-drunk on Black Briar Meade, having squandered the last of the couple's savings on a night of debauchery. He had stumbled into the cave at moonrise, and her wolf-time was already in full tilt.

Ysra had cornered her lover, enraged, and wasted no time cramming him into her fanged maw, taking care to choke him down without chewing. She wanted to feel him squirm as she digested him. He was big for a Nord, and his struggles were just what she needed. The wolf bitch flopped atop her stomach, hearing the man's indignant shrieks escaping her throat as she panted and howled, feeling his pummeling fists and kicking feet as he tried with all his not-inconsiderable might to escape his bride's gullet.

He may have been big as a Nord, but he was even bigger as a werewolf, and Ysra silently thanked Hircine that he was not able to transform tonight. Not without.....the ring! The werewolf checked both hands, realizing the familiar heat of its enchanted metal was absent. She felt her husband's struggles subside for a moment, just as a *clink* was audible through her skin, the small, warm circlet pressing against her insides for just a moment as Sigvald pressed his hand against it, blindly groping for the Ring of Hircine he had slipped from his wife's finger before she swallowed him. His finger found purchase at last, and with a seething wave of raw magical power, the Nord man began to change.

No no no no no! Gods be damned it hurt! Ysra howled in pain, rolling onto her side, taloned hands clutching at her gut as it swelled and bloated outwards, tight musculature straining to contain her husband as he took his wolf-form inside her body! Sigvald was growing rapidly, straining the walls of his lover's digestive sac as his muscles bulged and his body transformed. Ysra's feral yellow eyes were open wide, welling with tears as she strained to view over her tender, milk-swollen breasts, gazing fearfully down at her midsection, bulging and stretching and straining as her husband refused to be digested, expanding and mutating inside her. As a Nord he was a large man, but as a werewolf he dwarfed his wife, fully twice her height and three times her weight, rippling with muscle and nearly as endowed as the stallion she had taken the month before.

The howls continued, half Ysra's own and the other half Sigvald's, echoing through his wife's maw and out into the night air. Sigvald's mind was once again razor-sharp, no longer dulled by mead as his lupine survival instincts drove him to attempt escape. He loved his wife, but being her sustenance for the month was not his idea of proper housekeeping. He could see a sliver of light shining into the deep, black pit that was Ysra's stomach: her throat, whenever her mouth opened for another howl or snarl, letting the moonlight in. Sigvald growled menacingly, prodding his muzzle upwards towards the light, claws raking his mate's insides, though her slick, oozing juices prevented any of them from piercing her flesh from within.

Ysra struggled to comprehend what was going on inside her body. She struggled to stand, and even as she did, the weight inside her stomach shifted, and a low growl rumbled through her tightly-straining skin. Her belly was immense! She had never felt so stuffed, and if not for the pain of Sigvald trying to escape, it might have even been pleasurable. The Nord woman huffed and snorted, whining like a begging mutt as her stretched abdomen bulged and jostled. Without warning, she felt a choking sensation, her neck bulging as Sigvald tried to thrust his muzzle and snout up her throat! Ysra wretched, swallowing rapidly, contractions of her throat trying to contain the beast inside her.

Sigvald was enraged within her, struggling with all his might to escape his canine prison, adding both his fore and back limbs to the effort, raking Ysra's with a strength only Hircine's blessed could muster. The ring burned on his finger as he fought tooth and nail to escape his wife's body- even with the ring's blessing, his transformations were temporary, and he was swiftly exhausting himself. His eyes foggy and lids heavy, the werewolf struggled to remain conscious, the fumes of his fleshy, digestive prison lulling him to sleep despite himself. Every few moments he would snap conscious again, renewing his struggles, but in his animalistic mind, he knew his life was hers now.

The she-wolf yelped in surprise as Sigvald struggled more fervently, kicking downwards through her skin as her bloated midsection sagged under his weight. She felt something pop, a snap and a sharp jolt of pain. Whatever it was, she couldn't afford to let it regenerate before something even worse happened, already she could feel her stomach tearing, flesh reknitting itself and straining to contain the thousand-pound, twelve foot tall werewolf fighting to escape her engorged midriff. Ysra hauled herself to the alchemy table, whimpering in pain and struggling to keep her hands from shaking as the sensations inside her threatened to overwhelm her senses. She kept her mind on the task at hand, blocking out the distraction of her husband's feral growls escaping her own lips, or the semi-erotic sensation of her breasts, so heavy with milk, dripping cream from her perky, sensitive nipples that gently rolled down their swells, dribbled onto the immense curvature of her abdomen, and rolled downwards.

Focusing on the mortar and pestle in hand, Ysra first ground blisterwort, blue dartwing, gleam blossom, and juniper berries, downing the concoction before it had even cooled. Immediately, the she-wolf felt a rush of sensation, the healing potion fortifying her and boosting her body's natural regeneration to new heights. Her mind cleared as the pain dulled, skin tightening around her struggling husband as the flesh reknitted itself. It was only a temporary measure, but the next potion would help further. The she wolf growled in anger. Stupid Sigvald, if he hadn't been so irresponsible, she wouldn't have had to eat him! She slammed one hand on the alchemy table, bottles of ingredients clinking together as the Nord woman struggled to gather her thoughts. Her stomach was still on the verge of splitting, stretched so full her blackish skin was nearly transparent, her husband's outline clearly visible through the taut flesh. She clenched her abdominal muscles, suppressing another moan of pain with a side-note of pleasure, as Sigvald struggled yet still. He seemed to be running out of steam.....perhaps this was one lover's quarrel Ysra might win.

Lapse in thought over, the she-wolf bent over her alchemy table, grinding fresh ingredients: a creep cluster, giant's toe, hawk beak, and a river betty. She made the potion triple-strength, using up the last of her ingredients, and downed it before Sigvald could realize her plan. It digested much faster than he was. Without warning, it was as if Ysra's stomach were hundreds of pounds lighter! The potion lightened her load, meaning she could walk normally again, as long as her struggling husband couldn't escape. The werewolf woman stood up to her full height at last, cradling her still-tender belly and growling in satisfaction. The potions would last her the night, and Sigvald wouldn't last the morning. His struggles seemingly ceased for the time being, the wolf bitch collapsed onto the bed, the wooden frame cracking and collapsing beneath the combined weight of nearly two thousand pounds of werewolf. Her muscular thighs spread, belly sagging between them, and her clit throbbing with the satisfaction that soon she would be a single woman again, Ysra drifted to sleep, every now and again whining or yelping as Hircine's hunts challenged her in her dreams.

The pale sun rose over the Throat of the World, and Ysra's eyes fluttered open. She jolted upright as she saw her muzzle with crossed eyes, she was still in her wolf-form! The sudden motion brought on a bout of nausea, and she heaved over the side of the bed, hearing a hard clink. The Ring of Hircine clattered on the cottage's wooden floor, coated in bile, smoking slightly. Ysra felt her wolf-form receding, muscles re-tightening, breasts shrinking to her normal size, thighs once again becoming supple and toned, and her skin lightening to her pale, human flesh. Her belly, normally tight and well-defined with muscles, was still bulging outward, heavy with whatever remained of Sigvald, still digesting from the night before. She cradled the swell of her abdomen with a smile, feeling content and full...and looking about six months pregnant. She would hunt for a more suitable mate upon the next moon.