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Traveling SnackRaccoon (m) x Gnoll (m) soft vore.Contains 'soft' vore, oral, digestion, death and general lewdness.----Finding a good place for camp used to be so easy. Just find a nice bare area off the side of one's chosen path and sleep under the open sky.Such times had long since passed, which had led a scrawny brown-furred anthro to such a pathetically minuscule clearing under a drab orange overcast sky. Adorned with a natural black mask of fur across his eyes and relatively meager clothing, the lanky scavenger had spent most of the stormy day attempting to make up for lost time by hiking through muggy air and biblical downpour alike. The raccoon hadn't stopped by choice alone; instead the raging wash of a dry-creek-turned-rapids had helped finalize the decision his aching legs had begged for since late afternoon. With the mossy limestone path vanishing into the raging waters and no time to backtrack and find an alternative route, the ringtailed lad had instead decided to seek shelter for the night. Jutting granite had helped prevent the encroachment of large roots in a small circle, maybe three or feet total in navigable space. This provided a quaint space free from the looming oak and cedar trees that choked this region and the thorny, dense bushes and undergrowth that accompanied them. The lanky raccoon, known to many of his trading partners simply as 'Ramey' had found just enough dry timber to help foster a small campfire, perched atop the rough, speckled rock. Much of his possessions had been laid out around the warming flames, including his olive-tanned jute vest and the leathers that had filled his bag - most soaked all the way through. He wore little now, exposing much of his smooth hide to the chilly evening air while rough tanned leather leggings helped keep him decent - and provided a nice resting spot for a glimmering iron dagger wedged between the weak rope that made up a makeshift belt and the loops of his crafted pants. He sat cross-legged in front of the building flames, paws extended towards the fire. The afternoon storms had chased away the lingering humidity and instead brought with them an unseasonably cool wind that rushed through the forest, providing a constant backdrop of rustling trees and swaying branches while sweeping away the lingering petrichor. He would have to set up camp proper before too long, his still-bound bedroll to his right providing periodic reminders as his eyes glance around the petite clearing. It too had been soaked right to the core and would need to be dried out as well before he could set up camp. More work which his exhausted body protested in length. Instead he dropped an elbow down onto one of his knees, cradling his head in an open paw as he watched the dancing flames. Awake before daybreak, all in the hopes of chasing down the last few pennies in

free trade that this region offered. It was this that he dwelled on as drooping eyelids made contact, allowing his aching eyes to rest for just a moment.----A wet crack, the sound of a fallen branch giving way to something heavy snapped the raccoon right out of his lull. The orange sky had been replaced with dark blues and enriching blackness, his only source of light the fading, snapping flames of the fire. He shot up, domed ears twitching while his heart leapt for just a moment. He could only guess how long he had been out, but the air, now still with the sound of chirping insects and other nightlife told him it had been for far too long. A defeated sigh escaped his lips while blue eyes darted around. This just made everything more complicated - he'd be sleeping under a wet tent as letting the fire go for any longer could attract unwanted attention. As he reached down to the muddied earth for a clump of dirt another crunch - right behind him now - sent him scurrying for the dagger on his side. Instead, his paw groped at fur and leather.Gone. He didn't have to wonder long just where it had gone as a huge paw, coated in dark brown, coarse fur seized around his pointed snout, silencing any of the ringtail's protest almost immediately while the large assailant behind him. a second paw lazily draping over his left shoulder. A shrill whine echoes from his throat while Ramey's arms start to jut and thrash, pointed elbows jabbing into the wall of muscle and fur behind him. There's hardly any give and only a grumbly chuckle to help the raccoon confirm that he wasn't doing any sort of damage. Instead, Ramey's hands snap up, clasping around the one bulky paw squeezing his mouth shut. With every fiber in his upper half he starts to pry, fingertips digging into the stout fuzzy clamp. Nothing. Any movement seemed be on the part of his hulking assailant, while that other paw leisurely drags a thumb up against the raccoon's neck, pointed claw jabbing into the soft skin hidden under a layer of smooth fluff. The raccoon freezes, only now aware of how frantic his heartbeat had become with a sharpened claw threatening to dig out his jugular. Slowly, the ringtail's arms drop to his sides, a tense shiver taking over his entire form. The bulky grasp around his muzzle releases, that paw instead dropping down to his opposing shoulder while the intruder starts to shove him around. Ramey's legs, already fatigued and sore provided no support on the slick stone, allowing the hulking presence to force the ringtail to face him.With his back facing the fire, Ramey was finally able to make out just what had gotten the drop on him - and as he did, his blue eyes shot wide. As the massive silhouette formed from the darkness, lit by the snapping embers of the fire his heart nearly fell from his chest. Coated in what seemed to be tan fur adorned with small dark

splotches and a lighter-colored chest, a beast bulging with muscle crouched in front of him, drawn down to it's knees and still leaning forward to come face-to-face with the raccoon. A broad, dark-furred muzzle dominated much of his view, with dark red eyes reflecting all sorts of ill-intent. Butts of steam escaped it's nostrils and its lips as he took in deep breaths, blasting the raccoon with waves of hot, humid air that carried a rank smell. It wore very little clothing, instead opting for a number of cracked and weathered bandoleers over it's chest, holding pouches and tied bags. A few gold and silver hoops weighed down the beastly creature's ears while it's coarse fur coat was interrupted in various spots along it's chest and arms, showing bare pink skin in the shape of slashes and small divots. Wounds of war.Gnolls had been pushing up from the southwest for the last few seasons in the wake of quarreling tribal war, wrecking no small amount of havoc wherever they congregated. It was for this reason no one person traveled without at least a few blades - and now the raccoon was sitting face to face with one.Those bulky paws had already started pushing down his sides, thick fingers prodding under his arms and around his torso, dedicated in a search for weapons and other items of self defense. Ramey hadn't meant to scream, truly an an involuntary action on the part of welled-up terror bursting forth. The shrill sound caused the gnoll to scowl, jagged yellow teeth now fixated against stretched black lips. Instead of simply ripping the frightened ringtail's vocal cords out, the spotted beastman had a much more unorthodox solution. In a split second the gnoll's tongue, pink and dripping wet burst forth from between those bared teeth, forcing it's way into the raccoon's open mouth and silencing the sharp noise almost immediately. A wave of disgust washed over Ramey, leaving him convulsing in the gnoll's iron grasp as the hot muscle squirmed against smooth cheek-flesh and pointed, white 'coon-teeth, forcing the raccoon's own tongue down flat. Ramey was forced to breathe through his nose, nostrils flaring while his head thrashed left and right. The gnoll's tongue seemed to be wider than his own mouth, causing his cheeks to bulge with the worming muscle while the beast forced his hands out flat, rough padded palms feeling over his trembling fingertips. Ten solid claws - all too dull to cause damage to anything more severe than an itch. His eyes welled up with tears as he started to gag on the globs of thick drool leaking past the edge of his gullet, his mouth flooded with the taste of foreign spit and the faintest hint of cured meat. As much as instinct screamed for him to do so, the raccoon dared not bite down on the lively tongue - jagged teeth still dominating much of his vision. He even tried to prod upwards with his own tongue with what little room was left to give; after all, he could

possibly escape from this with everything but his dignity intact.Such a response gave the gnoll reason to chortle - a bassy boom from the raccoon's perspective. That fat tongue starts to retreat from the ringtail's snout, leaving him gagging and hacking while the wet muscle begins to trace along the outside of his muzzle. This forced the ringtail's wet eyes into a harsh cringe, protecting them from intrusion while the gnoll's heavy tongue trails up over his brow and against his forehead. The campfire, now a smoldering pile of embers had imbued the raccoon's fur with a smoky hint - one that gave the gnoll's fat tongue drive to drape and wrap itself all around the squirming ringtail's face. The pinned raccoon would whimper but otherwise remained silent, trying to avoid another intrusion past his lips. That masked face bucked side to side, jerking in the opposite direction of that wet muscle as it slithered around his snout. Smooth fur, so well maintained, became a matted mess of chime and fuzz in it's wake while a translucent trail was starting to run down Ramey's neck. The sound of amusement from the spotted beast was instead replaced with a grumble of satisfaction; and an even lower growl from the hyena's midsection. The gnoll's bulky paws started to trace down the smaller male's back, large digits squeezing around the brown raccoon's shoulder blades and the small of his back. It caused no end of struggle from the poor ringtail, one who was already exhausted and sore. Distracted, eyes hidden behind squeezed lids and a furrowed brow, missed the hyena-beast's snout drawing closer to his own. The first hint of something changing came with another blast of hot, humid gnollbreath - dulled only by his slime covered nose. The towering beast's jaws had dropped open, his tongue slipping down under the raccoon's chin to give him a straight path inwards with dozens of wavering strands of drool dancing within.A hearty shove from those groping paws jammed Ramey face-first into that fleshy chasm. His head, already reduced to a sopping mess, started to slide effortlessly against smooth flesh and jagged tooth alike until the raccoon's face was jamming up against the gnoll's gullet proper. Ramey's eyes shot open, though he was greeted with pitch blackness, the gnoll's lips having sealed around his collar - cutting off all outside light... and air. His body strained with a renewed vigor, muscles putting aside soreness for a life-preserving fight that the spotted hulk had already prepared for. Those bulky paws had snapped to Ramey's sides, his arms only getting a few inches from his body before being forced back. Now with his arms bound to his sides with an iron grip such struggles had virtually ceased. His muzzle  was unable to even cry for help - jammed together by dripping-wet flesh. As he slid deeper into the warmth of the gnoll's maw, the raccoon's ears were pinned right back

against his skull - having already started to map out the rough terrain of the hyena's pallet. Hearing was useless, with the only noises discernible to ringtailed ears being the rush of the gnoll's breath and the slimy, sloppy grind of his head against the gnoll's maw. For a brief, fleeting moment, Ramey was so sure this is what hell was like. The gnoll was more than happy to prove him wrong with a crushing gulp that smashed Ramey's head past that fleshy gullet into the spotted beast's throat proper. The gnoll's cheeks started to bulge with the squirming ringtail's shoulders. Now Ramey didn't have the unpleasant hardness of the gnoll's teeth to deal with around his neck; no, all he had now was the constant crushing pressure that the gnoll's esophagus provided. It felt as if his head would be rend straight from his neck if the hyena-beast wasn't helping guide his body in, inch by inch. That smooth tongue was starting to cut wide swaths over his light brown chest, smearing the velvet smooth fur back and sapping up the most unique flavor Ramey was reluctantly providing; a musky, sweet and smoky mix that sent the gnoll's salivary glands into a further frenzy. The hulking beast would groan lowly in a most guttural pleasure, shaking the hapless raccoon to his very core and further helping send his senses into a complete disarray. Not that he really needed any further help in that matter - Ramey was having a hard enough time managing to breathe without any added torture. Even the persistent whine coming from his own throat had tapered off, the raccoon now completely focused on two things: immediate survival and escape from this hellish grasp. With each passing moment, both strayed further and further from possibility. The raccoon's bucking was starting to soften, his arms no longer straining uselessly against both the gnoll's grasp and now his bulging cheeks. His breathing grew shallow, especially as his chest started to pass between the gnoll's stretched lips, further compressing his body. With the lack of light, Ramey had to rely on the nasty wet claps against his ears and the waves of agony with with each peristaltic contraction his only indications he was still conscious. The chilly air rushing past his bare paws barely registered in his frenzied mind with such a contrast to the sweltering heat much of his upper half contended with. With the raccoon's struggle draining from his form and his clenched hands starting to slip into the gnoll's craw, the spotted beast's paws began to drift further down, squeezing around the raccoon's waist tenderly while straining the tight and now slightly damp leather that made up the raccoon's pants. All that kept them secured to the thrashing 'coon seemed to be a frayed jute rope, barely holding together by itself. It held little resistance to the gnoll's enterprising paws and sharpened claws, ripping apart with only slight gashing

persuasion. With a good shove, the hyena easily succeeded in mashing Ramey's pants downwards into a wadded up clump around his ankles. The idea of fur untouched by both stray saliva run-off and the campfire's smoke was enough for the beastman to strain with another crushing gulp while his pink tongue began to rake over the raccoon's exposed waist, teasing at the fur that had matted up under Ramey's pants-line while his neck stretched to contain much of the doomed raccoon's torso. Ramey's vision swam in stars with each pounding gulp now, his pained gasping reduced to a weak wheeze as he struggled to even breathe the stale, thick air the gnoll's throat provided. His head had already passed into the gnoll's chest, adding to the oozing symphony a rhythmic swoosh from the hyena's pounding heart and the constant wind of the beast's breathing - almost taunting in a way. Even with his jaws filled with uncooperative fur, the gnoll had no problem enjoying the fresh forest air while his tongue jabbed and stroked over Ramey's sinking waist. Through much experience, the gnoll had become a master in the craft of coating anthros in hot slime, this was no exception. Even the raccoon's groin, for the brief moment it experienced the gnoll's jaws, experienced the ravenous caress, that slick muscle making quite sure the ringtail's sheath and package were more than adequately lubed up for the remaining trip. The sensation of hot flesh against his most sensitive regions didn't help with the raccoon's concentration in the slightest. He simply couldn't respond with any feeling except seething fright, with the flesh-bound pressure increasing further and further around his upper form. His sore snout was starting to push up against a reluctant fleshy valve where ooze was already starting to collect. For a moment, fear won out completely and lead to a renewed push with his legs bending and swaying mid-air as it seemed his disgusting adventure was coming to a quick end - drowned in less than an inch of bubbling chime.In response was another squeezing gulp, bunching Ramey's face up against that stubborn sphincter before it reluctantly gave way, allowing Ramey's head and much of his chest to dump down into the gnoll's boiling stomach. Now with the ringtail's abused waist now occupying space in the gnoll's muscular throat, his shame would enjoy a brief moment of smooth, hot flesh caressing from every possible angle - before the ungodly pressure drove that fleeting bit of pleasure back into continued agony. With only the raccoon's legs free, the gnoll was able to slump back against the grassy earth, his head finding the raccoon's still-packed bedroll. His bulging arms fall to his sides, paws resting against his chest in anticipation of the raccoon finding that final resting place - a pair of brown and black legs swaying haphazardly above his open snout as the raccoon's hips - and the beginning of that iconic tail -

begin to slip down into his gullet.Ramey was able to sample the thick, rancid air for just a split second before he was forced face-first into an all-new pool of stagnant slime, this time the ooze coming up to his neck before his sinking shoulders forced his head upwards as he started to curl in on himself. His arms not even free yet, the raccoon found he was already running out of space with pillowy folds of flesh bearing down on what little of his body had been exposed to the fleshy sac from every angle. He simply had no idea how the rest of his body could ever fit inside the gnoll. From the outside, it appeared as if the gnoll had developed a spontaneous and twitching tumor on his chest; Ramey's form starting to bulge out from under layers of muscle, pudge and light-tan fur. Further gulping served more as maintenance as anything else, with most of the hard work already been completed. The gnoll's gut began to growl loudly around it's trapped raccoon dinner, those soft folds firming up into another crushing apparatus that the hyena beast's body seemed to enjoy providing. It already wanted to churn the pathetically weak prey into mush, but with much of the raccoon's body still sinking down the gnoll's throat it only accomplished squeezing Ramey's snout tighter against his drool-drenched chest. In the fight to give way for this large meal, the gnoll's throat would win out while the hyena's belly started to stretch and distend reluctantly to accommodate the raccoon's drool-drenched form. Soon, the ravenous gnoll had only a pair of twitching paws fit between his gaping jaws; his superior body having devoured the raccoon whole, alive and barely moving. With a wet clap the gnoll's jaws snap shut around the ringtail's feet. Lovingly, that wet tongue, nearly worn out from all the excitement earlier began to stroke over bare, weathered pads before trailing around, engulfing each quivering paw one at a time with a wet, fleshy hug. Clenching toes do little but catch the edge of that fat muscle, helping finish up the coating of drool from eartip to toe, leaving a slimy warmth in-between each digit. One last moment allowed the gnoll to savor that musky goodness before his throat engulfed the raccoon's paws, sealing the hapless brown-furred anthro away to face a grisly end. Inside, the whimpering ringtail was forced into a tight ball of syrupy fur, his legs forced down against his chest with each arm bound painfully at odd angles around his curled form. The sensitive skin inside the raccoon's ears had started to itch severely, with only the squeezing, rolling motions of the muscles around him to provide any relief. Not one inch of free space was left, leaving Ramey bound up tightly. The gnoll's paws start to trace over the sharp shapes formed on his stretched belly, each brushing pass causing the raccoon to tremble beneath.The stubborn stomach walls, unable

to properly churn it's meal about instead started to crush the weakened raccoon, leading to a number of wet, ragged snaps as first joints and finally bone gave way to the monstrous force. Ramey was unable to determine just what had broken - every inch of his body simply sent lightning jolts of pain racing up his spine with each passing moment, following with an encroaching numbness. Again, the ringtail tried to scream - but his lungs simply wouldn't yield, instead supplying him with a mouthful of hot, salty copper and a wet gurgle. Another loud crunch silenced the raccoon permanently as the gnoll's gut contracted him into a completely unnatural shape, bringing an abrupt end to his already pathetic struggles. The sensation of light being snuffed out inside was one the gnoll missed out on, lulled into a deep rest by the wonderful sensation of an absolutely filled stomach. He dreamt of a joyous occasion, where the wine flowed freely and succulent slaves were endlessly presented. ---The melodic song of an early morning bird welcomed the gnoll back to consciousness, a pink and blue sky dotted with wispy trails of light butts stretching above him through ragged tree-limbs. He sat upwards with a grunt, the back of his head damp, matting down the natural ridge of hair the maker had bestowed his kind. Soreness blossomed from his back, a byproduct of a night amongst uneven rocks and wet soil. His red eyes trailed downwards, over splayed legs to the soft bulge he wore on his front. Giving it a curious prod with an extended finger caused the lump to squelch and give way. Bone, fur, muscle, all crushed and churned down into a lump of bubbling mess. Such a prod had disrupted something, with a rolling belch forcing it's way up the gnoll's throat. He greeted the morning with a thunderous belch and a moment of couching and grumbling as a wad of half-digested fur filled his jaws. With a loud hack he forced the slimy ball into an open palm. Brown and black fur greeted him, now thin and crumbling. The tantalizing taste of his evening meal had been replaced with bile and mucus, leaving the gnoll to spit and hack a few more times. He flicks the wad downwards, causing it to land with a loud splotch inside an open vest that was laid out only a few inches from a pile of ash and charred wood. Red eyes darted over his meal's former possessions. The dagger, forged of iron had already been wedged into one of his empty sheathes. He found a small, sad sack that contained only a few glimmering gold coins - those too became his, deposited into one of the jingling bags on his belt. The leather he would also gather, cramming both the loose bits and the former raccoon's pants into a rather large textured bag which he tied off with what remained of a sheared rope. Rising up onto his feet, the gnoll cast a quick glance at the sky before embarking northwards.He'd been

traveling for months now, attempting to keep ahead of his clan-mates as they began to infest the southern regions. He would head north - the chill bothered him little and the thought of a population soft to the dangers of the world gave him reason to grin and lick at his chops. A place where they still slept along the paths, trading safety for the open sky. He could hardly wait.