FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

Liana could never quite stand straight; like a newborn doe, she wobbled on boney, shaking legs. Furtive whispers churned beneath those wide blue eyes, an unspoken desire to be consumed.

Today, cotton filled her near-empty skull. Motionless, lips glistening, she watched as two beautiful women readied their utensils: two glass loaf pans; measuring spoons; a sieve; and a boiling pot. Like surgeons, the pair meticulously laid out their tools. One shining little soldier after another, rested on a soft pink towel.

Having prepared her fill, one of the women – Amelia – shot a loving glance at the doe. Like a snake, Amelia's lithe body then undulated to Liana's side, staring into her prey's eyes.

“Are you okay?" Amelia asked. A shy smile rose to her lips. “You look a little pale still. Maybe it'd be best if you ate something to tide you over."

Liana, however, refused. There was something romantic about her current condition; swaying, bent. Like rotted branches, her arms seemed to sway of their own accord. Even gripping her water glass was rendered a Herculean chore.

“I–I'm fine. But, uh…" Liana gulped, smacked her lips. “Could I have some water?"

Amelia replied, “If you ask nicely, maybe."

“Please? Please, can I have some water?"

Amelia then nodded, her eyes flitting to the thin bandage on Liana's forearm. “Good girl. Of course you can," Amelia hissed. “Open wide, hm?"

And gradually, that heavy glass raised to Liana's parched lips. The doe took tender sips as Amelia stared through the bottom of the glass. Magnified there, her half-lidded eyes penetrated Liana's doe-eyed stare. The sudden intrusion nearly made Liana gag.

Swiftly, Amelia then tugged the glass from Liana's mouth. She asked, “Are you alright?"

A small cough, and then: “I'm fine." Liana flashed a weak smile. “You should get to cooking, honey. Th–the blood…" She licked her lips, croaked: “If you take too long, it'll clot."

Amelia gave a toothy grin. “Don't worry your little head," she cooed. “We'll make sure it stays good."

“That's right." A fat woman called over her shoulder from the countertop, onion slices drooping from her blade. That familiar acrid aroma pervaded the yellow-tiled kitchen. The woman said, “We're gonna make sure you get your fill. So just sit back, yeah? We can't have you falling over."

Liana, of course, followed her mistress's orders. She thus hung her head low, idly fiddling with the bandage on her wrist. Frankly, she felt embarrassed to be seen in such a vulnerable state. But despite her humiliation, she breathed: “A–alright. Thank you, Sophie."

Sophie then brandished her knife, returned to her cutting board. A red checkered apron swayed against her kneecaps, fluttered like a ghost as she scuttled between the counter and stovetop.

“Amelia," Sophie called, and waved her arm. Her biceps just barely bulged from within a pale pink dress. “Hold the sieve. I'm going to drain the blood."

With a peck, Amelia then departed to the stovetop and held steady her sieve. There, Sophie cradled a thick glass measuring cup, stained burgundy with freshly siphoned blood. Tiny splotches of dried ichor ran from the sides, just barely holding afloat a thin layer of coagulation on top.

Sophie then gently tipped the cup over, allowing the blood within to overflow into the thinly woven mesh. That thick cake of blood settled atop, its drippings running into the pot below, seeping onto a pile of tender oats.

“It's beautiful," Sophie breathed, as if gazing upon a sacrificial rite. “Thicker than water, definitely. Look how it flows."

Amelia nodded, watching as the last of it emptied. “It looks really pretty. And delicious," she smacked. “Thank God… I can't wait."

Sophie then stirred the mixture with a wooden spoon. Softly, she tapped the red-stained wood against the pot's rim. “Amelia… don't praise God," she said. “Praise Liana. She's been a very good girl today. Hasn't she?"

Amelia's posture perked. She licked her lips, chirped: “Oh! Of course. Thank you, Liana." An embarrassed smile.

“You'll make an amazing meal."

---

Amelia hooked one arm under Liana's shoulder, hoisted her upward, and walked the trembling girl into the dining room. Three plates, three sets of silverware, already adorned the small round table.

“Here you are," Amelia huffed, and plopped Liana down. The doe's vision swam as she sat on the squeaking chair.

Amelia frowned, asked her: “Tell me… are you feeling alright?"

And Liana cheerily responded, “Of course I am. I'm more than alright." She paused. “I'm just… happy, you know? I'm happy that I get to become a part of you."

Tenderly, Amelia then traced her fingertips along Liana's wound. She hummed, said: “Good. And is your wound alright? I'm sorry that I couldn't hit a vein the first time."

Truthfully, Liana's flesh still ached from where she'd suffered the needle. It was a thick, hollow thing; softly, like a dolphin diving beneath the water's surface, so had the rod pierced her vein. Liana then lovingly bubbled to the surface, spewing that pure crimson liquid. One cup's worth, two, three, as Sophie petted her hair, assuring her that everything would be okay.

“I love you," Liana breathed, letting loose a fatigued chuckle. “I… I can't believe I'm doing this. I can't believe I'm here with both of you."

Amelia smiled at the unexpected remark. “I love you, too," she replied. “You're dear to me. So, so dear." An exalted sigh. “And I'm honored to partake in you."

Despite her fatigue, Liana couldn't help but blush. She shot a sheepish smile, wrung her hands on the wood tabletop, and said: “Well, I'm honored to be eaten by you." She then cleared her throat and added: “I just… want to be a part of you."

“And you will be," Amelia snarled. “Isn't it romantic?"

And then, as if on-cue, Sophie emerged from the kitchen. With mitt-clad hands, she carried those two glass pans; within laid two warm loaves.

“Blood pudding's done," Sophie chirped, and set them on the table. “Is Liana okay?"

Amelia giggled, left a lasting touch on Liana's hand. “More than fine," she teased. “Liana is embarrassingly excited. Just look at her."

Instinctively, Liana then covered her face. Through clenched palms, she whined: “You two are the only ones who could make me blush after losing so much blood."

“Yeah?" Sophie asked, and removed her mitts, brandishing her neon-magenta nails. “Well, you're the only dork I know who would volunteer their blood so readily." A coy smile. “I mean, seriously… you wouldn't survive a day in the wild."

“Well, it's a good thing I'm in captivity," Liana quipped. She then pointed limply at the pudding, asked: “Is it done cooling?"

Sophie nodded. “It is," she replied, and nursed a thumb on her lip. “Now, Liana… do me a favor and watch as we eat you, hm? I don't want you to miss a second of this."

“O–of course," Liana sputtered. Her tongue flailed as she clumsily attempted to express her gratitude. A muted hum then fell from her lips as she tried, and failed, to find the right words. Instead, she said: “I… I love you, mistress. I love you so much."

“Oh, I know," Sophie replied. And with a smug smile, she then reached for her kitchen knife. Gingerly, she beheld it in the sorbet light of the setting sun, staring at her own reflection in the blade.

Slowly, Sophie then plunged the knife downward, past the pudding's crust, and met the baking tin with a soft clink. With a flick of her bejeweled wrist, she then lifted a soft, moist square from within. White onions glistened from within the red-brown cake, contrasting nicely against its dark outsides.

Eyeing the slice, Amelia let out a thinly veiled gasp. “Oh my god," she breathed. “It's _ beautiful_."

Liana could hardly speak. The urge to sob rose in her throat, but she swallowed it in a torrent of saliva. It was all too much – the giddy smiles of her lovers, the pinprick through which her essence had been drawn; it all coalesced in a terrible milieu of ecstasy. In that moment, she had never felt more wholly adored.

“Amelia," Sophie breathed, and gently slid the chunk onto a plate. “Would you like the first taste?"

And naturally, the little freak quivered at the suggestion. “O–of course I would!" Amelia whimpered. “God, I've been waiting so long for this, haha." Excitedly, she then reached for the pristine fork.

Her hand, however, didn't reach its destination. Swiftly, Sophie had gripped Amelia's thin wrist, wrenched it from the table.

“No," Sophie hissed. She then wrapped her hand tightly around Amelia's, entwining their fingers. “A little girl like you shouldn't be feeding herself. Let me do it, hm?"

In disbelief, Liana then watched as she was raised from the plate, balanced precariously on a fork's tip, and raised toward her lover's mouth. Amelia's lips trembled as she readied herself for Liana's blood, her tongue gnashing against her teeth in panicked desperation.

The fork then plunged past Amelia's teeth, met her tongue like a writhing beast. A curled finger traced along Amelia's chin as the poor girl then partook in her lover's flesh. That salty metallic taste smacked along Amelia's palate, mingled with the savory scent of oats, her wet eyes penetrated by Sophie's intense stare.

With a full mouth, the steel fork lingering on her lips, Amelia then sputtered: “L–Liana… you taste amazing."

Liana nearly cried at those words. She choked: “Do you really think so?"

“Of course we do," Sophie replied. She then looked askance, as if mulling over her thoughts. As always, honeyed words evaded her when she needed them the most. So instead, she uttered:

“Baby… you're the most beautiful morsel I've ever seen."