FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

The office had several reinforced chairs for people of Mortimer’s magnitude. Eight feet tall, more than three hundred pounds of elephantine muscle and fat, the accomodations for a mammoth like him were necessary to the workplace. He leaned back with a sign, the chair accommodating his girth perfectly.

Looking around the table, noting some missing faces from his team. Monday mornings normally dragged at him, but today he felt an abnormal chipperness. Anyway, couldn’t start the meeting without a full team.

“Who are we waiting on?” His deep voice rumbles, filling the room without having to raise his voice.

“Tovey, and uh… Anderson, looks like.” One of the younger employees chirped. They were all probably younger than him. Graying hair around his temple, the brown fur on his arms peppered with the same, even his chest hair peaking out from the top buttons left undone on his peach-colored shirt.

Mortimer nodded. “Alright, we’ll give ‘em a few minutes before we start.” He leaned back, his button-up stretching over his chest. With some time to kill, he opened an app unsuitable for the workplace. But he was in charge—at least in present company—and besides,nobody could see his screen. His profile was even more unsuited for a professional work environment.

The older mammoth’s figure suited him well in his pursuits outside of work. His account, under the name Onyx, he remembered uploading a photo of his gut on the kitchen counter, teasing his followers with the caption: Dinner was a real squirmer tonight. That one had gotten a lot of responses of guys wanting to be just that for him. Another one of just his jaws wide open, lighting barely illuminating the cavernous maw, “Need a snack to get me through the day. Any volunteers?” He thrilled in how eager the replies would get.

thats such a hot gut

Damn! Need a daddy like you in my life!

the way id rub your gut alllll night… woof <3

LOVED the last stream!! wish that lucky prey was me >.<

He’d respond to a few of them with Good boy, or Just what I expect from such a gutslut, something along those lines of letting them know exactly who was in charge. While he spent his days in the office earning a paycheck, his real passion lay in having cute guys look up to his voluminous masculinity with worship in their eyes.

As he scrolled, he came across one of his posts he didn’t quite recall making. It was in fact, his most recent post, along with a set of photos similarly absent from his memory. A select frame from his stream, glowing colorful lights illuminating only his belly. Tank’s been empty all day, can’t wait to fill it with one of you. A typical photo he’d take, not much out of the ordinary.

The second photo was of him hugging somebody against his gut, their face dimpling the dome of his hairy belly. A few empty bottles could be seen in the background. Getting him acquainted with his new home.

Had he had a guest over the weekend? He’d gone on a rager last night, and hardly any moments of it still registered in his memory. He remembered now, he had a special guest for the stream, but not much else. Usually after streaming his consumption of somebody, the stream would go on for a few minutes and then he’d end it. He’d either let the guy out then, or at least the next morning, sometimes with a little extra fun. He glanced around the room before moving on.

There was one more photo in the set, showing his jaws off-center and unfocused, not something he’d normally post given the quality. But there, deep in his mouth, the darkened shape resembling someone’s face barely one swallow away from plunging out of sight.

He didn’t have the time to analyze the photos further. The two remaining employees bustled into the meeting room. He hid his screen while they offered up polite apologies.

“S’alright. Let’s get started then.” With a grunt, he pushed the thoughts of whatever happened last night out. Back to the real world, where he gets to present a meeting about numbers to a group who’d probably rather be anywhere else. He gets up from his chair, and felt something shift in his gut. It faded after just a moment, something similar to how stress would well up, but it felt good. He went to brush his gut with a hand, try and figure out what it was, but remembered where he was: time to start the meeting.

A monthly report on the team’s performance would’ve gone without a hitch. But the feeling in his midsection rumbled into something tangible. Standing in front of the charts projected on the screen, a subtle gurgle lead to a surprise burp, interrupting him midsentence. He tasted something on his breath.

He’d skipped breakfast to avoid being late for work. Luckily he hadn’t felt hungry, even as lunch approached. He put a hand over his belly, thoughts wandering over to what he might have for lunch. He snapped back, realizing the silence stretched for too long. He excused himself and reoriented his thoughts to continue the meeting.

When his belly groaned again, he didn’t even stray from his sentence about the leading sales figures. He let the burp out into his fist, smoothly transitioning to the next talking point. The taste lingered on his tongue, however, and he swished it inside his mouth some.

It unlocked a memory. Hazy, but it explained some things. The guest he invited over last night for his stream. As Onyx, he’d been real handsy with his guest and soon to be treat. He made sure the camera was on before pouring some drinks. The more wasted the both of them got, the more his guest—and current prey, he realized—became enamored with his gut. He rambled to the group about metrics, but in his head a swift link of the events from last night connected together..

He’d swallowed him whole. Pertinently, he didn’t recall letting him out. The now recognizeable feeling of weight in his midsection from having consumed someone. Deep in his innards, a stranger was squeezed by his internal digestive processes. It’d been long enough, he should probably let them out. The meeting was almost finished, he could check on them afterwards. He clicked through to the next slide.

Going over quarterly goals and other metrics, a loud borgorymy sounded out from his middle. He looked over the attendants, chuckling awkwardly to diffuse the tension.

“All these numbers make anyone else hungry, or is it just me?” He earned a few chuckles with that one. He cleared his throat and breezed through the remaining presentation he had. Just a few closing remarks, then he turned off the presentation before a slide ask for any questions or comments. He closed his laptop with a snap of finality.

“And that’s all for today. Good job this month, team!” Willing with his eyes for all of them to pack their things up and get out. Or at least let him go without any trouble. One raised their hand, and he steeled himself, feeling his stomach walls push in on their catch.

“Oh, just a quick question Mortimer! What about the quarterly bonus?”

“Given how well we’re doing, we should be getting the bonus. Go team!” He sidled himself along towards the exit, laptop tucked under one arm. His belly pushed in an empty chair, feeling it shift his guts.

Another coworker stood in front of him.

“Are we going to have Pizza Friday?”

“Yes, yes. Hope you like pepperoni.” He tried to nudge his way past, but his belly protruded such that he definitely did more than graze. The unfortunate coworker, a smaller weasel guy, dimpled into his gut, and his whole middle vibrated with another stomach gurgle. He said nothing, just forged onward, leaving weasel guy behind.

“Hey Mortimer, did you sign Harold’s Get Well Soon card?”

The brightly colored card had a happy puppy on it. Who was Harold again? Didn’t matter. Mortimer grumbled unintelligible nothings, leaning over to scribble a short message and a signature. His gut groaned, and he excused himself for probably the third time. He turned to exit the room, but his trajectory took him right into the doorframe. Well, his gut cushioned the blow for him, signalling the manuever with a loud grumbling groan. He cupped his belly, coaxing it to silence, and then finally he was free.

A sigh of relief escaped his lips. Monday meetings were normally a drag that could stretch for longer, somewhat helping to make the rest of the day shorter. His stomach occupant brushed all those thoughts aside. How he managed to lug someone inside him—unnoticed until now—escaped him.

A short trip to the restroom, his belly rocking just slightly from side to side. Once inside the tiled room, he locked the door and faced the mirror. He didn’t look as stressed as he felt. Unbuttoning his shirt, his furred belly swelled out from the restriction. He looked down his trunk at it, then at himself through the mirror.

A large mammoth, tusks splayed on either side of his trunk, the lower half of which lay atop his swollen belly. With the taste coming back up, past-Mortimer had made an excellent choice in meal. But they’d been in there since last night, so he’d better let them out. He hefted the bottom of his gut up with his hands, and addressed it.

“Hey, you in there. Can you hear me?” He said.

Silence. He craned his head to try and listen, but even his large ears couldn’t quite pick up their response, though he felt them move, which made his stomach groan. Just as he knew it would.

“Make one gurgle for yes, two for no.”

One gurgle. Using his digestive system as a method of communication came with the benefit of having his internals massaged by his prey. He always enjoyed the fact they had to use his gut to respond, just one more degree of domination over someone else.

“Good. I’m at work. Do you need to be let out right now?”

Two gurgles. He nodded. He wouldn’t know how to begin explaining a naked stranger emerging from the bathroom. And the thought of having a little gut passenger around all day was enticing.

“So stay inside until the end of the day? You’re okay with that?”

One gurgle. Nice. Worked for him, he didn’t have to worry about lunch. Looking at himself in the mirror, he struck quite the figure. He fished out his phone, took a few photos. The restroom lighting lent itself to a casual atmosphere, with his trunk laying on top of his gut, and one hand supporting it from underneath. His shirt acted like curtains, framing either side of his protruding belly.

“You’re looking good in there. Thanks for the meal.” He gruffly spoke down to his gut, slipping into his online persona. He felt the beginnings of an erection strain against his pants. He posted the photo. One of the benefits they don’t tell you as an intern: you get to be lunch. Putting his phone away, he began to button up his shirt.

“Long as you don’t make too much of a fuss, the rest of the day should go smoothly. You’re not getting out until…” He checked his watch. “About 5 hours from now. Be good until then.”

His bulge would die down in a moment, and with one last check in the mirror to be sure he was presentable, he left the restroom. He’d coast through the day, the meeting was the only real big thing to take care of. Settling into his desk, heaving his gut around and the prey inside it, he felt he could just relax and wind down the time at his computer. Suddenly he was struck with a thought.

Should probably ask for his name.