FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

The sun inched closer to the horizon, bathing the city skyline in a sea of yellow and orange. The skyscrapers practically glowed as the light reflected from their millions of windows, hiding the teeming workers within as they completed their last tasks of the day.

Ted Smith wasn't one of them. Relaxing in his corner office, the lion sighed, leaning back in his chair. A lot of work went into running the company, and thanks to his own 'creative' management style, none of it landed on his desk. No, all he had to do all day was kick back and use the company gym, and it showed. His suit had been retailored four times in the past year to contain his steadily swelling muscles; Even so, the seams of his jacket strained around his biceps and pecs.

Maybe he wasn't the most productive employee, but his sheer physical presence was always enough to make the underlings work faster. If their productivity increased, his salary increased, and if his salary increased, that meant another vacation home in the Hamptons, and enough sports cars and Versace suits to fill it. A fine reward for a hard day's work.

Okay, so maybe his department had the highest employee turnaround in the entire corporation, but nobody could deny, he got things done. Like last week's project; Sure, it had been rejected by the upper bosses, but his team completed it on time and below budget. It just cost a few dozen skilled engineers, who immediately went across the road to work for the competition. But either way, as far as both he and corporate were concerned, he was of vital importance to the company, and was given benefits second only to the CEO himself.

He kicked his feet up on the antique mahogany desk and lit a cigar, savoring the rough, rich flavor. Crossing his arms behind his head, he couldn't help but sigh and sink further into his plush leather chair.

"Mph," He muttered, taking another deep puff, "This is the life..."

At the same time, a very different man was walking through the office. Well, not really a man anymore, though he very recently was, until a wrong turn on the freeway led his 18-wheeler off the side of a cliff. Little more than a puff of ethereal vapor, Marty floated past cubicles, past tired employees and empty water coolers, with no particular direction in mind. In life, he'd never been inside such a place, and decided on a whim to take a quick look. He had all of eternity to waste, after all.

Turning a corner, he paused. The wolf in front of him was... Beautiful. He'd never seen someone so wonderfully obese, even among the slovenly truckers he usually associated with. This man, this beast, was nothing less than six hundred pounds of glorious obesity, somehow squished into a denim work jumpsuit. Stains covered him, from his mountainous moobs to the drooping paunch of his belly, and from the smell, it was clear he hadn't bathed in a while.

He grumbled as he worked, slowly dragging his mop back and forth, doing little more than spreading water across the floor. It was clear he had little care for his job. One worker, rushing to get by, stepped in the puddle and slipped, before barely managing to catch himself at the last moment and continue on his way.

"Wet floor," The janitor muttered, smirking as the employee shot him a dirty look.

The floating soul smiled. If he were still flesh and bone, the two of them would get along just fine. But as it was, he felt like poking his head into a few offices before attempting anything with the scruffy custodian. Maybe he'd stumble across some steamy love affair and get a show. Floating on, he poked his ethereal head through the first door, and beheld Ted Smith in all his executive glory.

Ted took a long drag from his cigar, blowing a perfect smoke ring in the air above him. Muscle was never his main thing, but the lost soul had to admit, the executive carried it well. Just looking at him, he could practically feel the man's power. It was no doubt, men like him were the ones who built nations, drove economies to thrive or collapse, while the trucker was simply a cog in the vast machinery of capitalism.

He smiled. In life, he'd always been at the bottom of the ladder. He was happy there, sure, but it wasn't like he'd had much choice. Not much of a businessman, never much for booklearning, he was happy to haul cargo across the continent, and maybe ream a few fat asses along the way. But now, standing in the office of one of society's prime movers, he felt a twinge of curiosity. Just what was it like? How did the other half live?

Hovering in front of Ted, he waited for the businessman to open his mouth for another puff, and slipped inside. Immediately, the lion gagged, cigar falling to the floor as he grabbed his throat, hacking as if he'd just swallowed a hairball. It was no use; A strange feeling came over his body, and he sunk back in the chair, his mind reeling at the sudden sensations.

He tried to lift his arm, but found that he couldn't. Flexing his fingers, he found them as unresponsive as if they belonged to a totally different person. Even his eyes - He realized with fright that he couldn't avert his gaze from looking straight ahead. Then, he did - His hands moved, grabbing the arms of the chair and pushing up, before reaching down to pick up his discarded cigar, and stamping out the smoldering fibers of the carpet.

Ted Smith was a passenger in his own body, he realized. He screamed and thrashed internally, but to no avail. His body brought the cigar to his lips and took a puff, only to gag and smash it out on the surface of his 18th century mahogany desk. 'The lacquer!' was the last coherent thought he had, before falling silent as the newcomer seized control.

Marty coughed, mashing the cigar against the desktop. Apparently white collar cigars tasted the same as blue collar cigars - Absolute shit. Groaning after that poor experience, he stretched out, cracking his joints and feeling his muscles strain. He flexed his arms, watching attentively as the biceps bulged within his sleeves, and appreciating the slight creak as the strings in the seam struggled to hold together.

His previous body was the product of years of slovenly and unhealthy living, but this one was clearly built through years of hard work and dedication. Marty smirked, imagining what the boys down at the truck stop would think if they saw him now; Fit, handsome, and judging by his surroundings, extremely rich - And he didn't have to lift a finger!

He'd have to visit them sometime, if only to show off and have a couple drinks. Those slobs would absolutely adore his new form, especially the guys around back, who were always willing to have a romp in the bathroom for a bit of extra gas money... But that could wait; He had a few things to take care of first.

The possessed man stood up and stretched out, before taking a shaky step. He wobbled, unused to the biological quirks of his new body, then took another, and another. After a minute, he was steady enough to walk a full lap around the office. A couple more, and he was reasonably certain nobody would suspect a thing.

The more he explored the office, the more irritated he became. The walls were lined with bookshelves, fine carved wood, with the occasional painting of a tasteful landscape to offset the pattern. The carpet was a rich red, with nary a stain or cigarette butt in sight. It was the sort of place you had to wipe your shoes before coming in, and a sad-eyed old man would take your hat and jacket.

"Rich people," Marty rolled his eyes, sitting back down.

A day planner sat on the desktop, which he picked up and flicked through. Meetings, spa appointments, deadlines for one project or another... He snorted, tossing the book in the garbage. Deep inside, the original owner felt a twinge of indignation; How could anyone live without a planner? It was a crucial part of an executive's life! But the new controller of his body didn't notice, or particularly care what his former occupant thought.

Suddenly, there was a sharp click as the door handle turned and swung open. Marty immediately shot up, slamming the drawer shut just as the janitor walked in, pushing a cart of cleaning supplies in front of his wobbling mass. His eyes widened upon seeing the lion behind his desk.

"Evening, Mr. Smith," The wolf said, surprised, "Working overtime?"

"Smith?" He said, glancing quickly at the nametag on his suit, "You could say that, yeah."

"I'll come back later," The blob of a custodian replied, backing away with his cart.

"N-no!" Marty shouted, causing the wolf to turn in surprise. He blushed, and continued, "I mean, feel free to clean the place up! Don't mind me!"

The janitor shrugged, taking on a disinterested look at he wheeled his cart into the center of the room. He glanced around, scanning for dirt, then grabbed a spray bottle from the top tray and went to work. Marty watched intently, licking his lips as he turned to wipe the dust from a bookshelf. The canine's jumpsuit was never designed to contain a man of his size, and it showed - The seam down the back was taut, fit to burst even, with ass cheeks the size of medicine balls pressing against it all day.

The lion surreptitiously unzipped his fly, careful not to make a sound, and slipped a paw inside. His cock was already hardening, and with a few gentle strokes, it began to swell in earnest. Marty wrapped his paw around it and shivered; His fingertips just barely met around his girthy member, and it was only getting thicker with every throb.

"W-what's your," Marty asked, his voice shaky with adrenaline, "N-name?"

"Carl, boss," The janitor replied, not turning from his work, "Forget already? You only hired me a week ago."

Marty paid no attention to his underling's tone. Biting his lip, he let his swelling cock flop out of his pants, shifting forward in his seat to keep it hidden. He gave it a long, slow stroke, eyes fixed upon the dark, sweaty stain cascading between the janitor's globular ass cheeks. What he wouldn't give for a good sniff...

He moaned lightly, then caught himself, coughing in an attempt to disguise the sound. Carl jumped in surprise, his entire body jiggling like jello. His cloth slipped from his hand, and, shooting Marty a dirty glance, bent over to pick it up. The denim fabric strained against his ass, the well-worn seams opening up slightly to reveal tufts of gray fur as a fart sputtered out.

The former trucker couldn't restrain himself, so aroused by the wolf's slovenly ways. He let out a deep moan, eyes rolling back as he came, sending ropes of seed shooting out across the carpeted floor.

All color drained from Marty's face, the orgasmic bliss fading in record time as he realized what he'd done. A long stream of would-be cubs lay there on the floor, slowly cooling in the air, while the janitor stood up, gas hissing and petering out as he turned to investigate the noise.

Marty sat there, frozen, hand still on his swiftly-softening penis as Carl turned around, his entire ponderous form shifting with all the grace of a truck making a u-turn. His nose twitched. His eyes went from the stained floor, to his boss, to the cock just barely visible under the desk, a stream of post-cum still dribbling from the tip.

The two merely stood there, dumbfounded, as the seconds ticked slowly by. The janitor's eyes remained fixed upon his boss's member, the spines flaring along the tip with every breath. Marty sat with bated breath, anticipating the possibilities. A sexual harassment lawsuit wasn't something he was ready to deal with. He closed his eyes, trying to will his soul out of the body and leave Ted to his fate, but it was no use. After a long moment, he opened them again.

"Another mess for me to clean?" Carl grunted, splashing his cloth in a bucket of cleaning solution and making his way over.

Marty was dumbstruck by the wolf's casualness. Here he was, a rich businessman, masturbating to one of his underlings, and the only response he got was mild irritation? Marty watched as he crouched down and began scrubbing the mess, cursing and muttering under his breath. He didn't seem horrified; If anything, it was as if this were a regular occurrence.

In that moment, an idea struck him. Marty smiled, coughing to get the wolf's attention. When that didn't work, and he continued scrubbing away at the cumstain, he stood up, rapping sharply on the desktop. The wolf's ears perked up, and he looked up at his boss with an annoyed expression.

"Don't bother cleaning it now," Marty said, stepping around the desk, "We're just going to make a bigger mess anyway."

The wolf grunted, then sighed, and stood up.

"I'll just finish the shelves," He said, turning around, only to pause as Marty placed a hand on his shoulder.

"Actually, I was hoping we could fuck," The lion said with a smirk.

Carl blinked, clearly surprised by the sheer straightforwardness of the lion. He stared for a moment, thinking hard about his next move. This was a good job, much better than any of his old ones, and he'd hate to lose it by offending his boss. On the other hand, he was six hundred pounds. His lunch was a box of cream-filled donuts. Why would a man as hot as Ted want anything to do with him?

"Well," He muttered after a moment, "It's not like I haven't thought about it before..."

"Might as well," He shrugged his shoulders, grabbing the zipper at his neck. It stuck for a moment, but he gave it a sharp yank to get it moving.

Marty didn't have time to process his words, as the wolf's belly flopped out. Steam rose from his greasy, matted fur as it contacted the air, the result of hours trapped within its denim prison. The rounded dome stuck almost a foot in front of him, oozing over his waistband like a fleshy pendulum. The lion's eyes bugged out, his cock throbbing as dollops of pre dripped steadily out. In all his years of working with the biggest, fattest truckers in the business, he'd never seen such an appealing gut!

Then the wolf turned around, his massive ass wobbling as he wrenched down his jumpsuit. A fart sputtered out as he struggled to yank the denim over his enormous hips, filling the room with a warm, greasy scent. Sweat oozed down his backside, further inundating the tight fabric. Marty's head spun, a lusty haze infiltrating from his nostrils to his brain, and he did the only thing he could think of, and wrapped his arms around the wolf's ass.

Hot sweat soaked into his suit, but he didn't care. He was in heaven, squeezing the soft canine flab, but after a moment, he forced himself to let go. He had a mission. He grabbed the thin, sweat-soaked fabric over his crack, eliciting a confused grunt from the janitor. Ted had built his body well, not only building size, but strength, and with a mighty heave, Marty tore the backside of the jumpsuit, a fart blasting out the second his ass hit air.

Marty was on top of it in an instant, shoving his face as deep into the wolf's squishy crack as possible. Hot, roiling musk burned into his nostrils, a constant stream of pre oozing from his boner as he savored every drop of gas that came his way. The asscheeks around him weighed a hundred pounds, easily, but he didn't care; The pressure only made his desire stronger.

"Huh?" The wolf asked, "You want to be on bottom, boss?"

Marty just moaned, groping the wolf's ass as he sniffed. The wolf grunted, letting out a puff of warm gas into the lion's face. Marty breathed it in gladly, as a drowning victim would a lungful of air, while deep inside, Ted choked in disgust. Even without control of his body, his senses were working perfectly, and his tastes didn't align with the undead trucker.

"Let me out!" Ted screamed internally, as another wave of gas flooded his nostrils. He wanted to retch, which was an interesting sensation with no real control of his throat. Focusing as hard as he could, he tensed his muscles, attempting to tear his face from the janitor's sweat-soaked slophole. With a mighty heave, he pushed against his underling's fuzzy cheeks.

To his surprise, he felt himself... Moving! Happiness surged through him as he pushed, feeling his head slowly slide between the janitor's weighty buttocks, nearer freedom with every moment. He barely even noticed the farting anymore, despite Marty's insistence at sniffing up every last drop.

Finally, with a loud, wet slurping sound, the lion's head was free from its dark, windy prison. Blinking the sweat from his eyes, he inhaled deeply, savoring the fresh air. Feeling his fartsucker move, Carl turned around. The gelatinous wolf jiggled with each lumbering step, a wide smirk splitting his saggy cheeks.

Ted smiled internally, gazing up at the wolf. He was in control! He'd fire this obese slob, replace him with a beautiful woman - Replace the entire staff with beautiful women! And pour a few million dollars into fitness programs while he's at it. Do some good for society, and turn freaks like this into a thing of the past! Ted couldn't help but chuckle to himself as he opened his mouth to speak.

"God," Marty moaned, "You've got a stellar ass. "

Ted screamed, kicking and thrashing in his mental prison. He was so close - So close, but that freak managed to regain control at the last moment! Or did he? What if he were never in control, if their movements just happened to coincide? Or if this were all just some sick game... He choked back a mental sob.

If nothing else, he admitted, he couldn't imagine anything more degrading than being forced to sniff his obese janitor's farts. Whatever else the ghostly pervert had in store, he was ready. It would just be smooth sailing from here on out, until his hitchhiker got bored and found a new body to haunt.

"If y'want," Carl smirked, "I can fuck your sweet ass, too."

Both occupants froze. Ted's thought process crashed to a halt as a wave of dread washed over him, while Marty's lips curled into a smile. When was the last time he'd been on the receiving end? He wracked his brain - That gas station near Tacoma, if he had to guess. That was months ago, and his poor hole was simply aching for a good stuffing!

Well, not his hole - Flexing his anus, it was obvious Ted hadn't done much experimenting in his life. But, trapped in the back of his own mind, it wasn't like he could protest!

Marty licked his lips, eyeing the massive bulge in the wolf's pants. The zipper strained against the mass, a dark stain spreading across the surrounding fabric. He leaned in, planting his lips on the soaked denim and sucked, thick, musky precum flooding across his tongue. He moaned, eyes rolling back, as Carl's cock twitched beneath the surface.

The wolf hummed, tugging his zipper down further. The lion moved away just in time, as Carl's canine cock sprung out from its denim prison. Marty gulped, watching as a bead of pre rolled down the tip and splashed on the carpet below. He was never great with math, but if he had to guess, the slob's cock was a foot long, easily. Maybe even a little bit more.

And it was going up his ass!

Marty licked the tip, lapping up a little droplet of pre, before rising from his kneeling position and planting a kiss upon the obese janitor's plump lips. Carl moaned, feeling the lion's strong tongue slip into his mouth and wrestle with his own. The flavor was intoxicating, a mixture of his own salty cum and the hot, fermented musk of his ass sweat. Marty felt similarly, taking in the complex flavors of the working class wolf's lunch. For a moment, they stood there, locked in a lustful embrace.

But it was not to last. Marty stepped back, gasping for air, before turning to fiddle with his belt. Carl helped him with the buckle, then, in one fluid motion, yanked the belt from the loops and tossed it to the ground, sending Marty's pants crumpling around his ankles.

The lion's cock, free at last, bobbed in the cool air. The obese wolf licked his lips, watching as a dollop of feline cream oozed from the tip, tracing a line down his bloated urethra, to melt into the furry surface of his balls. He reached out and cupped a hand around the lion's puffy glans, before wrapping his fingers around it and giving it a stroke. Marty shivered, his hips bucking slightly in time with the motion.

"Heh," Carl chuckled, giving the lion's sensitive glans a squeeze, "Ready?"

Marty nodded enthusiastically. With a sweep of his arm, he brushed away the desktop clutter, pens, staplers, and folders full of corporate secrets tumbling to the floor as he bent over. His butt was round, and firm, the product of healthy eating and a lot of deep squats, perfect for a slovenly beast to lovingly dominate. Leaning over the desk, he wiggled his hips provocatively, egging the horny wolf on.

Carl didn't need to be told. Kicking away his jumpsuit, he stepped over, hefting up his belly and flopping it down upon the lion's back. Marty buckled beneath the weight, but stood firm, rubbing his ass against the wolf's fat-choked crotch.

The trucker shivered, the wolf's thick cock pressed between his cheeks, spreading them wide as he rubbed it up and down across his crack. He flexed his cheeks slightly, giving him a pleasant squeeze. Carl groaned; He could feel the muscles shifting beneath his skin, with just the slightest layer of fat providing a comfortable amount of cushion for his pelvis.

The motion was enough to stir Ted from his dreamlike daze. As he awoke groggily, his first through was annoyance - He'd have to completely rearrange the desk now! Carl grunted, thrusting his cock between the lion's muscular cheeks. The sudden pressure on his hole made him gasp.

Not just inwardly, this time - Marty inhaled sharply as the tip of the janitor's big dogdick pressed against his tight butthole. He thrust, his gut weighing heavily across Marty's lower back, but the lion's hole was too tight, merely bumping ineffectively at the surface. A glob of hot pre oozed from Carl's cock, sending a shiver up Marty's shine as it spread across his hole like lube.

The wolf smiled, placing his hands roughly upon Marty's shoulders, and slowly began pushing him down, as he moved forward. Ted begged, pleaded, hoped against hope that it wouldn't work. He could feel everything; The warm, damp weight atop him, the pointed tip of the janitor's cock pressing against his clenched hole, his own cock bobbing up and down, beads of pre spurting across his nice shag carpet. All he could do was pray, as his hole slowly loosened, Carl's dick pressing in millimeter by millimeter...

All of a sudden, it slid right in. Marty and Ted both yelped, one in arousal, the other in horror, as the sausage-thick rod thrust into his anus. Carl's entire body mass shifted forward, causing the lion's strong arms to bend with the strain.

In just a second, he managed to right himself, his cock twitching inside his boss. The hole was still tight, but not quite as bad as before, giving a pleasant amount of pressure around his throbbing rod. Marty flexed his anus, eliciting a groan from the hefty wolf.

Ted, meanwhile, was panicking. He'd never taken a cock before - He felt so full! The girth spread his hole like an inner tube, while the length made him feel like an overstuffed turkey. It was a completely alien feeling to the straightlaced businessman. And yet, it did feel rather good...

He mentally slapped himself. Good? Being rectally reamed by the fat brute of a janitor? He almost felt sick! Then, Carl thrust, sending a wave of pleasure across Ted's body. He moaned, feeling the mass shift inside his tight hole. Carl's flabby thighs slapped against the lion's muscular ass, sending shockwaves across his body.

Marty moaned, clenching his fists around the far end of the desk. He clenched his hole around the Carl's meaty cock, causing the wolf to let out a moan of his own as he thrust. Even after years of one-night trysts with some of the most well-hung men in the business, anal sex never lost its fun. Your hole may loosen, but the sheer novelty of having another man's penis inside you never really disappeared.

Or being inside another man, for that matter. Carl couldn't help but marvel at this turn of events. It still didn't seem real to him - One second, it was just another boring day of scrubbing floors, the next, he was balls-deep inside the man who had hired him. Was this the plan to begin with? He grunted, feeling his balls churn as hot seed swirled inside them. If it were, he wasn't entirely against it.

The exertion, along with the relative stuffiness of the room, were starting to make him overheat. Sweat blossomed across the fatass's body, leaking down his gut in tiny rivers. It dripped down, across Marty's rounded backside, turning his golden fur slick and greasy. Some dripped between his spread cheeks, acting as additional lubricant to the wolf's throbbing rod, while the rest simply made their bodies glisten like oiled-up models.

Marty purred as the wolf's thrusts sped up, spurred on by his growing heat. He rocked in time with the thrusts, in and out, forward and back, helping his lover keep a steady pace. The heavy belly swaying on his back acted as a weight, turning every motion into a hard-earned rep of its own. Exercise. It was like exercise, Ted thought, allowing himself a slight moan. He was exercising, with a giant, stinking fatass, and his massive, glorious cock lodged deep in his virgin ass.

It wasn't gay... At least, not entirely. It wasn't like the janitor was ugly, right? Marty, and by extension, Ted moaned as several hundred pounds of canine flab pressed against his lower body, every thrust sending tingles up and down every nerve in his body. His knuckles turned white as they gripped the edge of the desk, the muscles in his arms quivering as the extreme weight and stimulation threatened to push him down, but he managed to hold on, instead focusing his energy on flexing and bucking his hips with every thrust from the obese wolf.

Carl wheezed as Marty milked his cock for all it was worth, sweat rolling across the matted fur of his belly. The lion's hole tightened around his manhood, his athletic hips slapping against his own flabby thighs, sending shockwaves across his massive body. He groaned, gritting his teeth as a wave began to build inside him; He knew what was coming, and with his boss's skilled ministrations, it wouldn't be long before-

Marty's eyes widened, feeling the wolf's cock bulge inside him; He knew what this meant, but he hadn't been expecting it quite so - Soon! He gasped sharply as Carl unleashed, sending a wave of thick, warm fluid directly into his colon. Ted's midsection bulged slightly as he filled up. He shivered, feeling the tip of his gut press against the cold edge of his desk. He was... Huge! And full! The formerly straightlaced businessman couldn't help it, letting out a sharp howl, the likes of which would make his moon-calling ancestors proud.

At the same time, a strange sensation came over Marty. It started small, a mere tugging at the back of his mind. In the throes of orgasm, he paid it no mind, but it was beginning to make itself known. His head swirled; No, tugged - It was as if someone was pulling him back by the hair. At first, he thought it was Carl roughhousing, but the wolf's hands were planted firmly on the lion's aching shoulders.

Then, what..? He didn't have time to finish the sentence, as his vision began to blur. Tunnel vision; Like he was viewing his life through a television. The desk grew distant, sensations dulling across his body. The canine cock stretching his hole disappeared, as the hot, churning bulge in his gut became a memory. All at once, he felt a pop, like twisting the cap from a new bottle of rotgut - And was gone.

Ted's arms quivered, then gave out, sending the lion crashing into the desk, six hundred pounds of canine flab slamming down on top of him. He groaned, moving his arms as he struggled to push the weight of the janitor off. It took him a moment to realize - He was in control of himself again!

"Yes!" He cried triumphantly. The sound that came out was more of a pained squeak, as the air squeezed out of his compressed lungs.

"S-sorry!" Carl stammered, pushing himself off. His cock popped out of Ted's stretched hole, cum dripping across the carpeted floor.

Ted turned to him, glancing up and down the obese wolf's sweat-drenched body. Both of their cocks still throbbed, post-cum still oozing out. If he had to be gay, he decided, he could do a lot worse than Carl.

"Would you like to grab a bite to eat?" Ted asked., sliding a black credit card from his pocket, "I'm buying."