FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

Added to Inventory

"Come awn, come awn, it's gots be around here somewheres! Fifty tousand smackers, where is dat damn thing?"

An assortment of items was flung from Max's desk as the rat searched ever more desperately for the one he was looking for. Jimmy had thought this would be an easy score, but so far it had been nothing but difficult; he and his associate had spent half an hour sawing through the chain that was holding the bulging wooden panel closed, and when they had finally got through it, the Thing in the Corner had charged at them and swallowed Henry Half-Tail whole. Fortunately, after a loud belch, it had returned to the corner and now lay snoozing quietly. Jimmy guessed he had another few minutes before it woke up again, and at least he no longer had to split the profit.

It wasn't often he got the chance for a score this big, but then not every millionaire rodent was an avid collector of Presidential Weaponry. Washington's dagger. Roosevelt's cane-sword. Nixon's orbital space laser. It was an impressive collection. But there was just one President missing from it, and one weapon in particular that would top it all off.

President Max's Luger pistol.

The lagomorph always seemed to have the thing with him, and Jimmy had spent weeks waiting for the perfect moment. He'd watched the two freelance police leaving earlier that day, ensuring it wasn't on a mission of any kind, and both he and Henry had sworn Max wasn't carrying his pistol when he left. The President had no pockets - in fact wore no clothes whatsoever - so that meant the pistol must be in the office somewhere.

Jimmy wasn't having any luck, though. He'd found old case files, stray pieces of evidence, stray pieces of suspect, hypnotism goggles, popped stress balls and a stash of sandwiches so old they had developed their own space-faring civilisations, but no pistol. The rat groaned to himself and pushed aside another few balled-up tissues which he had no desire to discover the contents of. Then he paused. His scavenging had uncovered a very dented ladle, and while it certainly wasn't the gun, Jimmy had seen Max use it as a weapon once, with disturbing effectiveness. It might not fetch the same price as the pistol, but perhaps his buyer would be interested in a cheaper purchase...

Suddenly, Jimmy's ears twitched. At first, he feared the Thing had woken up, but then he realised the noise was coming from the corridor. He listened close, trying to identify the sound. It was almost like... erratic, bounding footsteps. Unless Flint Paper had taken up ballet, those footsteps could only belong to one individual.

Oh cripes, I'd best split!

Jimmy had no desire to be caught stealing from either of the freelance police, but of the two of them, the lagomorph was far worse. The last time Max had caught Jimmy, the rat had found himself on the end of a string, and had spent no less than half an hour being repeatedly swallowed and regurgitated. By the end of it, he wasn't sure whether Max had let him go on purpose or just lost track of which side he was on. Jimmy had slipped away while his captor was distracted by something shiny.

It was over a month later and his fur still felt sticky.

He grabbed the ladle and skittered to the desk opening. One hop and he was on the desk lid, and from there it was a quick jog back to his rat hole. He ducked under a lamp, hopped over a stack of books, charged past a row of gleaming white teeth.

"Hey there Jimmy!"

"Hey Max," Jimmy shouted as he reached the edge of the table and got ready to jump.

Then he stopped, one leg outstretched, ladle sticking out to the side awkwardly. A single eye twitched.

Oh.

Oooh.

"Err... I gots a very good explanation for this..." Jimmy said hesitantly. Max grinned down at him, leaning one hand on the table behind and placing the other on his hip.

"I hope not!" beamed the lagomorph, "I haven't shot anyone in hours, and my now fingers feel funny!"

"Right!" said Jimmy, taking a step back. Max always stared so intently, "Yeah! Erm... funny yous should mention shootin'... cause... y'see... da thing is..."

Jimmy dove off of the table. His rat hole rushed up to meet him. Just another half second, and he'd be safe.

Okay, miscalculation. Maybe another half second.

Two seconds, tops.

Call it ten, that should do it.

Although now he thought about it, it had stopped getting closer altogether. He seemed to be stuck in mid jump, suspended in the air, clutching the ladle like a parachute.

Slowly, reluctantly, Jimmy turned around. The President's grinning face stared back at him from above a white, furry hand clutching onto his tail.

"And I thought I was going to be bored until Sam got back!" Max said.

"Okay, okay, yous caught me!" Jimmy shouted, "I'm sorry, but I promise, I didn't take nuffin'!"

There was a silence as the pair looked over to the ladle Jimmy was clutching like a life preserver. He let go, and it clattered to the floor.

"Right," he conceded, "but now I ain't got nuffin'. So just lets me go, okay? I won't try to take your gun again, I promise."

"Oh-ho-ho," Max's eyes widened. So did his grin. "You were after my _luger?_Well then, that calls for a special kind of response! Now, where did I put that thing..."

Max began to clamber around the room, tipping out cupboards and upending boxes. Jimmy was going to ask him what he was searching for, but after some consideration he decided to keep quiet; if it was the gun he was looking for, the silly lagomorph might be leading Jimmy right to its hiding place, and all the rat would have to do then was remember it. It seemed, though, that Max had no more idea where the pistol was than Jimmy did.

Then he threw his free hand into the air.

"Oh, that was it!" he yelled, and without warning, dove across the room and face first into a bin. Jimmy was dragged along by his tail, and spun around until his surroundings blurred. All he could see was Max's rear end protruding from the bin, legs flailing in the air, and the occasional shred of paper come flying out as the lagomorph seemed to tear, swim and chew his way through the pile of rubbish there.

"Found it!" cried Max suddenly, and with a great swinging motion he hopped back out of the bin, sending Jimmy's world reeling. The rat clutched his head, and when the room stopped spinning he saw Max holding a wet, scrunched up sheet of paper which had what was almost certainly bite marks all around the edges. The lagomorph held it up proudly.

"I knew I'd left it around here somewhere! It's a list Sam wrote for me. Apparently there are limits to Presidential authority, and those spoilsports at the UN were threatening to invade if I kept ignoring them. But good old Sam, he drew up this list for me of things I'm not allowed to do to my subjects. Did you know that cruel and unusual punishments are actually frowned upon in this country? I found it highly educational!"

"You shouldn't call us dat," Jimmy said before he could help himself, "Just 'cause yous's President don't make us your 'subjects'."

"Oh, actually it does. You've all legally been my subjects ever since I established the Divine Right of Max in all 57 states!"

"57? Dere's only 50 states you imbeci- err... Mister President," Jimmy pointed out.

"Not after I broke Delaware!" Max said as he shook out the list, which dripped slightly, and started to read thought it. He muttered to himself as he did so, occasionally shouting phrases like "drawing and quartering?" and "oh, that was only one time!".

Jimmy craned his head around to see the list for himself, and managed to get as far as '- giant cannon into the sun -" when Max started to absentmindedly swing him from side to side. It didn't take long before the rat was feeling close to throwing up, but fortunately Max stopped swinging him in order to yell, "Right! I know what I can do that's not on here! Lord bless Sam and his cripplingly limited imagination!"

Jimmy shuddered as the lagomorph brought his eyes to bear on the small form, and for a moment, the two simply stared at one another, Max with a devilish glint in his eye and Jimmy wringing his hands together nervously.

"So," Max yelped at last, holding Jimmy mere inches from his enormous grin, "you want to find my luger? No problem! Let me show you where I store it!"

"Uuh... oh... okay?" Jimmy stammered cautiously, not liking the lagomorph's tone. He felt sure this was some kind of trick, but if there was even a chance it would end with him finding that weapon, he was sure the future riches would be worth the risk.

He didn't have to wait long to regret that decision.

Max's jaw opened wide - wider than Jimmy thought possible - and a tongue lashed out and slapped into him, dragging itself up his fur and leaving a wet trail behind. Jimmy squirmed and tried to pull away, but the hand behind him held him firmly in place. He was licked like this once, twice, three times, before he finally yelled out; "Please don't eats me!".

The licking paused. Max tilted his head to one side with a bemused expression.

"Eat you?" he cried, "Why would I eat you?"

With that, he spun around, bent over and brought Jimmy down below his tail. Jimmy's eye twitched again. From here he could make out every detail of the lagomorph's rear, from his tightly puckered pink ring to the gently swaying furry orbs below. And from between wide legs, that horrible grin beamed up at him.

"I get to keep you much longer this way!" Max said. Jimmy's stomach plunged as he realised what the mad creature had planned for him.

"No! No, please, you can't d-"

The rat's words were cut short as he was slammed between Max's cheeks, his pointed muzzle angled upwards so that he could see a white, puffball tail, as well as the hole just beneath it.

"You might wanna hold your breath," Max practically sang, and Jimmy could only whimper as he was slid upwards, a furred finger pressing into the back of his head and burying the rat's muzzle nose-first into the lagomorph's ass. It was an unnerving feeling, the ring tightening in response to being entered, squeezing Jimmy's face and almost pulling him further in, but the rat was too horrified to dwell on that. His small paws shot up and pressed desperately against Max's cheeks, but it was a futile effort, and he felt himself only get pushed deeper in.

The ring of Max's ass slid easily over the rest of Jimmy's head, and he clamped his eyes shut as he was pressed further inside, his ears squashed flat by the warm, slick walls surrounding him. Realising he couldn't push back against this, the rat resorted to kicking and flailing his legs wildly, and at first he thought he was getting somewhere; Max's hand shifted around, and Jimmy was certain his short attention span would soon get the better of him, forcing him to give up on punishing Jimmy and move on to easier prey.

No such luck. Max was just moving to get a better grip, cupping the rat's own rear end and forcing him yet further inside. Jimmy's sloping shoulders were no resistance at all, and he slid deeper and deeper, his arms becoming clamped down to his sides as he struggled and thrashed, losing energy fast. In particular, he was becoming desperate to take a breath, but with where he was, he couldn't stand the thought of it. He'd never feel clean again.

His struggles were getting him nowhere though. By now, only his hands and lower body were still protruding from Max's rear, and Jimmy realised with alarm that, when Max finally took his hand away, he stayed put. He was so deep now that the lagomorph didn't even have to expend effort to keep him there. Knowing this, the rat began to writhe and twist, hoping against hope that he might dislodge himself and slide out, but all he succeeded in doing was driving himself to exhaustion. His chest felt ready to burst, and his face flushed red as he realised what he had to do; he had to breathe. After a brief mental battle, Jimmy decided that breathing in through the mouth would be, at least marginally, less disgusting and humiliating, and so he forced open his jaw and -

It didn't open. The slick tunnel ahead of him was clamping down on his muzzle, preventing his mouth from moving.

Jimmy whimpered as a shudder ran through him. That only left him with one option. One horrible, unthinkable option. He didn't want to do it, but he knew he didn't have a choice. At last, he gave in. Immediately, the smell of Max flooded his nostrils. The lagomorph had a distinctive odour at the best of times, but now it was simply overpowering, and Jimmy's eyes began to water - though whether from the scent or the humiliation he wasn't sure. It was all he could smell, all he could focus on, and the worst part was, he knew it wouldn't be his last here. His sole comfort was that some of his energy seemed to return, and the rat bucked and thrashed as hard as he could, feeling Max's hole pucker and tighten around his midriff in response. It wasn't the response he had been hoping for, but he had to try.

Max had found himself thoroughly enjoying his toy so far. The constant wriggling was probably supposed to be off-putting, but actually the movements were quite pleasurable, and he hadn't been at all surprised when, after a few moments of inserting the rat, his cock had begun to stiffen.

"Oh," Max said, looking down, "hey there Mr Marmaduke!" Then he swung his hips out to one side, and addressed his next comment to the flailing rat butt that was still visible there; "I call him Mr Marmaduke," Max explained. Jimmy seemed to have very little to say about this, and continued to kick and lash his tail around. The lagomorph shrugged, and gripped a hand around his shaft, when he suddenly remembered the last time something like this had happened - not with Jimmy, of course, but he had certainly become carried away in a similar way (his recollection was hazy, but a bazooka may have been involved) - and Sam had made him clean the office floor with industrial bleach. Perhaps he'd save himself the effort and relocate to the bathroom. Without a moment's hesitation, he bounded to his new destination.

Jimmy felt himself thrown around as Max began to... well, 'walk' would be an understatement. In any case, the rat's legs swung wildly and he felt the lagomorph's muscles press into him with every step, first one side, and then the other. He hadn't thought it was possible for him to be made even less comfortable with the situation, but Max had clearly found a way.

Then, he slid. Only a quarter of an inch, maybe less, but he definitely slid. With his constant flailing, the lagomorph's movements and the tireless work of gravity all combined, Jimmy was starting to fall back out of Max's ass. His heart soared! This torment would finally be over! Already he was out to his elbows. Just a few... more...

A thick, furred finger caught him before he got any further, and with an effortless push, Jimmy found himself lodged even deeper than before, the passage around him clenching slightly as he slid through it, his fingers slipping through the ring and into the warm, wet darkness. He let out a self-pitying groan. This was not going to be over quickly.

In the bathroom, Max slammed the door shut with one hand as he gripped his cock in the other, his tongue hanging slack from his mouth as he rubbed up and down. He didn't think he was going to last long, with Jimmy putting in so much assistance, but something caught his eye and made him pause. He was looking into the eyes of another Max, one from across the bathroom mirror. And after a moment, both Max's grins grew devious.

Hurriedly, the lagomorph sank to his knees and shuffled back, so that his ass, and Jimmy's kicking legs, were framed in the mirror right where he could see them. He pulled out one cheek to give himself a better view, and then clenched his anus tight. Jimmy gave a corresponding flail. Seeing it made Max's cock throb, and his smile grew even further. He began to swing his hips from side to side, enjoying the rat's futile struggles, and he made sure to tense and squeeze whenever the movements slowed.

Max toyed with the rat like this for several minutes, feeling himself building up more and more, until at last, he couldn't hold back. He raised his other hand off of the floor, and he placed a single finger just under the rat's tail. Then he pushed.

Jimmy felt himself suddenly shoved even deeper into the lagomorph, the tunnel getting tighter as he was pushed forwards. His legs were squeezed together as his hips were pulled inside, and by now he could feel the slick walls almost all over him. Only his legs and tail stuck out, and he gave a last, pathetic kick as they started to slide inside.

Watching the rat disappear, and feeling the creature deep inside of him, Max shuddered in pleasure. He stared at those twitching toes as they got closer and closer to his hole, and his cock throbbed again. Jimmy's knees sunk inside, and then his ankles, and then only his paws, smushed together with the tip of his tail. Max's hole closed in on them greedily, and the last thing he saw of the rat was a single, wiggling toe.

As the anus closed in around his toes, shutting him off completely from the outside world, Jimmy felt a rumbling all around him. At first he wasn't sure what to make of it, but then it sunk in, with a heavy feeling in the pit of his stomach which widened to a deep, suffering groan. Not that, he begged silently, anything but that.

It hit not long after, with the walls around him suddenly tensing all at once, crushing him tighter than they had ever done before. Jimmy felt the breath forced from his lungs, and his eyes practically bulged with the pressure of it. The entire tunnel pulsed and squeezed, like it was trying to wring him dry, and the moment dragged for what seemed like an eternity.

Max gave a loud moan as a climax shook him from the tips of his ears to the ends of his feet. He didn't even have to touch his cock, unloading onto the bathroom tiles time and time again as ecstasy rocked his body. At that moment he knew he had found a new purpose for Jimmy, that the rat would be lucky to spend more than a few minutes a day outside of his ass. Unless, that was, Max could find even more uses for him - already his pleasure-riddled mind was bouncing between possibilities.

All in good time, though. For now, Max contended himself to propping his body up with one hand, and holding his twitching member in the other. Already, he felt himself ready to go again, and feeling the distinct shape of Jimmy lodged inside of him, it wasn't long before he came, panting and moaning as he sprayed the floor for what was easily the fourth time. And it was in that position that he remained for quite some time, kneeling and just enjoying the waves of bliss washing over him.

Then, what could have been either minutes or hours later, he heard the office door open, followed by heavy, familiar footsteps.

"Where are you hiding, little buddy?", came a muffled voice from beyond the bathroom door.

"I'm in here Sam," Max shouted, still on his hands and knees, "but I don't think you wanna open th-"

Sam opened the door, and his mouth fell slack as he surveyed the scene in front of him.

"Holy voided tile warranty in a solitary sin-session, Max..." the dog said, rubbing a large paw under his hat and breathing out a beleaguered sigh, "Did you have to start without me?"