FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

Fomo's ears twitched when he heard the front door open, rolling over on the sofa to investigate. His stomach gurgled noisily when he shifted, considerably softer than it had been when he fell asleep but still sporting a sizeable roundness. The mouse still felt rather bloated, but at least the tension on his belly had reduced to a comfortable level.

"Huh? What's this?" A familiar voice could be heard in the entryway.

Moments later, a grey and white wolf appeared in the living room, holding a pair of jeans that had been carelessly discarded near the door. Though Forest recognized the scent on them, he looked to the mouse on the sofa for answers, because they didn't belong to either of them. Before he could ask, however, his eyes fell on Fomo's swollen belly. There had been a few instances he could remember of the mouse gorging himself to a cute roundness with food, but never like this.

"Geez, Fomo. Did you raid the entire fridge or something? I just went grocery shopping the other day, don't tell me I need to do it again."

The mouse giggled quietly and began to push himself into a sitting position, letting his belly sag onto his lap. "Not exactly. Had a visitor earlier, and- " Fomo trailed off when the shift in orientation made his stomach churn unhappily. He felt it clench around something solid, followed by an unmistakable sensation of upward pressure.

URRRRP . In addition to a wet, cheetah-flavored belch, the firm mass pushed itself up the mouse's throat. It made him briefly gag, resulting in another spasm that swiftly forced it free of his jaws. A polished skull landed at Forest's feet, partially entangled by a familiar, surprisingly-intact black collar and gold bell. If that wasn't confirmation enough for the cause of the mouse's roundness, another gag sent a soggy pink tank top spilling to the floor with a wet splat.

The wolf's cheeks flushed at the reveal. Green eyes observed the soggy pile at his feet, then turned to the cheeky mouse who was giggling on the sofa.

"Mmf. 'Scuse me," Fomo grinned. He rubbed his belly, which felt much better now.

Though he initially looked rather surprised at the mouse's display, having never witnessed or even heard rumors about his predatory habits, Forest began wagging. "Uh...you were saying?"

Fomo cocked his head, one ear perked while the other tipped. "Hm? Oh, right! I had some unexpected company stop by earlier. A sneaky spottycat thought he could try and get the drop on me. Turns out a mouse got the drop on him instead."

"I'll say," Forest replied. He bent down to pick up the soggy collar and inspect it. "Can't say I've ever seen you down anyone before."

"Uh huh! First one I've had, and that chee was a wiggly one," he proudly stated to the wolf. "Better him than me."

The wolf's tail was quickly becoming a blur as it wagged about. He recognized that collar, especially paired with a pink tank top. "It was a cheetah that stopped by? A white cheetah, by chance?"

Fomo nodded, grinning wider.

"Fomo, did you eat Frosty?"

"Frosty who?" The mouse's response was rather automatic, and earned a chuckle from Forest. When he gave it some thought, he was reminded of his dream again. He'd called out the white cheetah's name while he was struggling to escape his belly.

While his mind was recalling the dream, other thoughts and images began to creep into the mouse's consciousness that had previously been overlooked. Hazy snippets, as if he was revisiting a scrapbook of memories. Forest and Frosty cuddled up on the sofa watching a movie together, only to discover fresh claw marks on the furniture the next morning. Glancing to his right, Fomo noted shallow lines cut into the armrest beside him. There were other such marks in various places throughout the house, and though nobody ever directly spoke of them, he knew why they were there.

Then came another memory of the wolf emerging from his bedroom, twirling the cheetah's black collar on a finger and carrying a round belly. It was the same collar that Fomo had just belched up. He was beginning to recall other scenes from Frosty's frequent visits to hang out with Forest, and they all felt familiar to him, as if he'd experienced them himself.

Strangely, the familiarity of those memories was similar to what he felt dwelling on the vivid nightmare he'd experienced. It was getting more difficult to convince himself that becoming cheetah food was just a dream. But why? As far back as he could remember, a cheetah had never eaten him. When he tried to recall anything prior to the first time he'd met Forest, however, the memories became impossibly fuzzy, as if they were right on the edges of recollection. But that had always been the case.

Fomo's train of thought was interrupted when a pair of hands came to rest on his belly and began to firmly rub. He involuntarily groaned, toes curling from the sensation. That feels really good. His cheeks flushed a bit when his gaze met Forest, who was leaned over him and eagerly kneading Fomo's belly to feel out the contents. The wolf almost looked proud.

"Wow, you really did a number on that chee, huh?" Forest was still wagging furiously while he pushed his hands into the mouse's soft padding.

"Hee, guess so, huh? Never knew that I could...mmh...handle a whole kitty so well."

"Can't say I'm surprised. He always does digest nicely."

The last comment struck Fomo as a bit odd. When he thought on it, he could remember several occasions of the wolf sporting a cheetah-padded gut. But he couldn't recall a real explanation for the recurrence of it. It wasn't the wolf's doing, he knew. If anything, Forest was more inclined to keep the cheetah on his waistline. He'd said as much in the past.

A realization made Fomo frown. That might become an issue, if Frosty kept trying to eat him.

Fomo settled back into the sofa while Forest continued doting on his middle. "You know, I've never thought to ask, how does he manage that? Coming back from being wuff food, I mean. Cuz I know you've eaten that chee a bunch of times, and he always shows up again sooner or later."

Strangely, Fomo felt that he knew the wolf's answer before Forest even responded. In fact, he knew just about everything about Forest, including who and what Forest knew, since the time they'd met beneath the trees. There was a deep connection between them that he could never fully explain.

Forest's head tipped and he raised an eyebrow. "Oh, he hasn't told you? I mean, I don't know much about it, myself. Something to do with what he does for work, but he doesn't talk about his job. He's pretty secretive about it, in fact."

Fomo's head shook, interested in what the wolf had to share, but a bit disappointed that his information was as sparse as he anticipated. "Nuh uh. Don't think he's ever talked to me about his work, especially that. Maybe I'll ask sometime."

The wolf chuckled and pushed against his friend's belly again, eliciting a deeply-satisfied groan. "Well, good luck getting an answer from him in this state..."

* * * * * * * * * *

Felix was sitting at his computer, digging through an impossible amount of programming code when the alert came in. His mind felt so fogged over from staring at walls of text that it almost startled him out of his seat. When he recognized that it was a distress signal, he immediately snapped to attention and pulled up the details. Anything else that he was working on could wait. When the distress signal's owner and location was identified, however, he sighed heavily.

"Really, Frosty? Again?" Felix tried to recount how many times the cheetah had been eaten, in that same location, even. He'd lost track, it was becoming common enough. Maybe he'd give Frosty an earful about abusing his benefits, even though most generally looked the other way when it came to excessive use of the reforming pods.

The only thing that struck him as odd was that Frosty hadn't let him know he was heading out. He was generally reliable about communicating his visits to certain friends, given the likelihood of his beacon being triggered. It was a matter of courtesy, to avoid raising too much alarm when the inevitable happened.

"Maybe he just forgot," the calico grumbled. Given the events that had transpired earlier that day, he couldn't blame him if that were the case.

However, protocol was protocol. There was no link to a CAT suit detected, which meant Frosty hadn't been wearing it. Someone would have to be sent to investigate, and likely retrieve Frosty's personal effects given the information that the beacon was relaying. His collar was the most critical. While the cheetah could be reformed without it, they would be doing so at the expense of recent memories that would be crucial to what had taken place to activate the distress beacon, and more.

That was the major drawback of their reforming technology. "Master copies" of an employee's thoughts, memories, and physical characteristics were time-consuming to create. At most, they were performed monthly, then supplemented with the data from a hidden capture device to fill in the gaps. That information couldn't be transmitted, given how much data it contained. In this instance, Frosty had chosen a collar to disguise his, which is what made it so invaluable to them.

When he failed to reach Frosty via his comms device, Felix made the call to a field coordinator to have a team sent out to retrieve it.

"Yeah, I know. You guys probably have the directions to that house memorized by this point," Felix groaned. "I'm sure it's nothing serious, you know how Frosty is."

"And he hasn't checked in?" the voice on the other end of the line confirmed.

"Not since the signal came in, no. For what it's worth, he didn't let me know he was heading anywhere, which is a little unusual."

There was a brief pause. The concern in Felix's voice was noted. "Good to know. It's probably nothing, like you said, but it doesn't hurt to be cautious. I'll have a team sent out right away..."

* * * * * * * * * *

"Uh, everything okay in there?" Forest cautiously asked.

Squeak! "Oof, g-gosh, wuffie. How do you manage to deal with such big meals all the time?"

Forest had paused to check on Fomo, having heard the mouse's difficulties while walking past, and was now standing beside the bathroom door. His cheeks got warm at the unusual question and he coughed quietly, unable to bring himself to answer the mouse. Luckily, Fomo didn't press him for one. He could hear him panting softly inside, the seat creaking when Fomo shifted, followed by what he could only assume was further effort.

"He's so...nnnggh...so big, even after I, mmf, digested him, wuff!"

The wolf had a strong suspicion what he was referring to, his blush growing darker as a result. He glanced at the bathroom door, then to his bedroom.

"Er...just...lemme know if you need something, okay, Fomo?" He wasn't sure what he'd even do, given how flustered he already felt at the mouse's situation. "I'll be in my room!"

As Forest stepped away from the bathroom, a sharp " Squeak! " emerged from the other side of the door, followed by a deep sigh of relief. He quickly hurried back to his bedroom to avoid further embarrassment at his own expense, and avoided eye contact when Fomo emerged several minutes later and strolled past his door with a cheeky swagger, his belly looking a good deal thinner than it had the last time Forest saw him, but still noticeably soft. Moments after disappearing from view, the mouse's head reappeared around the open doorway and giggled at his friend.

"I feel much better now. Guess that's the last I'll see of that chee for a while, huh...?" It likely wouldn't be, however, and Fomo knew it.

* * * * * * * * * *

"Are you sure this is going to work?" a grey lynx asked, standing on the sidewalk in front of the home with a black-and-white tuxedo cat. It was late in the evening, and a moonless night meant the only light was cast from street lamps and porch lights. He straightened his purple collar while he looked to the female cat beside him.

"Yeah, we've been through this quite a few times. Forest knows the drill. We give him the code phrase, he hands over Frosty's collar and personal effects, and that's it," the other explained, adjusting her shirt to better conceal the silvery material of her CAT suit beneath. "We've never had an issue."

"How much does he know?" Drake wondered aloud. "About what we do, I mean."

"Only as much as he needs to. Come on," Tess gestured.

Drake nodded, and decided to follow his partner's lead as she strolled toward the front door. He'd let her do the talking, since she was familiar with the process. It was his first time to this house. After a firm knock, there was a long delay, followed by faint grumbling from the other side of the door.

"Of all the timing..."

The front door swung open, and the two cats were pitched their first curve ball of the evening. Rather than Forest, a grey and white mouse was standing in the doorway, wearing black exercise shorts with a blue towel draped over his bare shoulder. They'd clearly interrupted him, judging by his disgruntled expression while he rubbed the towel against his sweaty neck.

Fomo looked from one cat to the other, annoyed that they'd taken him away from his workout. The grey and white lynx was unfamiliar to him, but he recognized the other tuxedo cat. His tail lashed in irritation as he tried to remember why.

"Can I help you?" His tone made his annoyance clear.

Tess offered a warm smile despite the unexpected change of pace. She'd never interacted with Fomo before, but knew of him due to the cheetah's exploits. What she didn't know, unlike Frosty, was that the mouse wasn't supposed to be here. She simply assumed that he was Forest's roommate.

"Sorry to bother you so late. Is Frosty around? We were going to meet up for dinner tonight, and he said we could pick him up here."

Hearing the code phrase was all it took to unearth a fuzzy memory. Fomo blinked as he stared at the tuxedo cat for several seconds, piecing it together. Now he remembered why she was so familiar. She'd visited several times before, and uttered the same passage word-for-word without fail.

Fomo recalled two cats frequently appearing at their door not long after Frosty had been devoured and digested by Forest. Odder still, was the realization that they were _always_cats. They gave the passphrase, and Forest gave them Frosty's belongings. For some reason, the memory played out as if Fomo himself were handing over the cheetah's things, even though Forest had done so every time.

Then he grasped why the exchange was taking place, recalling his conversation with Forest earlier that day. Fomo had eaten Frosty, and they were here to collect the cheetah's belongings so they could bring him back. However that happened. Even with Forest's knowledge of things in his head, that piece was a veiled mystery.

Snapping out of his momentary daze, Fomo's expression turned into a mischievous smirk. "Actually, he left not long ago. Didn't say where he was going," he offered. That was another curveball, and it was a major one.

Tess seemed surprised by the mouse's response. They'd confirmed before knocking that the cheetah's signal was broadcasting from the house. "Really? He's usually here when he says he'll be." Drake could sense her confusion, and suspected things weren't going according to plan.

"Oh, positive," Fomo confirmed. "Saw him off, myself." The grin grew wider at his insinuation.

Drake decided to take a stab at it. "Well, is Forest around?"

Shaking his head, Fomo immediately shot the attempt down. "I mean, yeah, but he turned in for the night early. Long day at work, and all. And you know what they say about sleeping wolves. Especially when kitties are involved."

The ominous tone made both felines immediately nervous, and they decided it would be best to break off before things escalated. They'd been urged to be on their guard, and something felt...off.

"Well, if you see him again tonight..."

Fomo cut him off. "Yeah, I'll let him know you two dropped by." The door closed before either of the cats had a chance to respond.

Drake and Tess exchanged puzzled looks, then turned away from the door and began to make they way down the walkway toward the street.

"What was that all about?" the lynx inquired once they were on the sidewalk again.

Tess shook her head and shrugged. "I have no idea, this has never happened to us before." Reaching into her pocket, she pulled out a cell phone which came loaded with more features than most. With a quick swipe, she brought up a tracking app and quickly located the pings from Frosty's distress beacon. The source was strong, and a quick glance confirmed that it was still coming from the house.

"Either Frosty left his collar here, or the mouse is screwing with us," she said bluntly. "And given the nature of the signal, I'll give you one guess which it is. But...I have no idea why he would. We've been here plenty of times without incident."

Drake stood close and peered down at the phone in his partner's hand, then gazed at the house, unaware that they were being watched. "Well, what now?"

"Plan B. Let's find a place to hunker down for a bit and call this in, then we'll figure out how we're going to get Frosty back."

Fomo watched the two cats as they proceeded down the sidewalk until he could no longer see them through the peephole in the door. He hadn't been able to hear their conversation from inside the house, but their gestures and concerned expressions told him enough. He figured they'd be back sooner or later. He wasn't keen on having Frosty around again after the cheetah had attempted to eat him - even though he was confident he could handle the spottycat now - but knew it might be unavoidable. Perhaps he could delay the inevitable.

In the back of his mind, he wondered if he could take both of them. One cat had been difficult enough to get down. The lynx, he was confident he'd have no trouble with. He was a similar build to Frosty, amusingly enough. The tuxedo, on the other hand, was several inches taller, and had a swimmer's build that suggested she might be more of a handful than her petite counterpart.

I'll cross that bridge if it comes to it. Fomo turned away from the door and returned to the living room to resume exercising, and though he was still new to the idea, his belly made a soft rumble at the possibility of squeezing another kitty or two into his diet...

* * * * * * * * * *

Tess and Drake found themselves at the same house the next evening, but this time they were more covert about their approach. Their casual clothing had been replaced with black shirts and jeans to hide themselves in the shadows. They both knew it would be a gamble to repeat what had been attempted the night prior, especially if Fomo answered the door again.

Felix's instructions had been clear enough: retrieve the cheetah's collar by any means necessary.

The two felines checked to make sure nobody was around, then quickly crept alongside the house to disappear into the darkness. They paused at each window they passed, checking for signs of activity before proceeding. The first window on the side was the living room, and though the blinds were partially rolled shut and the lights off, they could see well enough between the slats to determine that nobody appeared to be inside.

Tess was on surveillance tonight, and reached into her bag to extract a small object that looked like a pen-light, then secured it to the windowsill with putty. Though the tiny night-vision camera wasn't ideal, it would at least let her peer into the darkness enough to spot movement. It would allow her to monitor things outside, while Drake would be sneaking in to search for Frosty's collar. She pulled out her cell phone and confirmed that it was working, and a quick scan of the feed confirmed that nobody was inside, that she could see.

The next window was frosted glass, the only one on the first floor of the house of that type, which meant it was likely the bathroom. It was dark as well, so the two cats crept to the corner of the house, since any light in the bathroom would be the only indication needed that it was occupied.

An upstairs window was faintly-illuminated, the blinds drawn shut there as well. The only light to escape was at the outer edges, suggesting that a set of curtains was blocking everything else. This was confirmed when Tess pointed another camera toward it, and was greeted by a dark rectangle. Scanning the feed, she looked to her partner. Blind spot.

It made breaking in more of a risk. They knew Forest wasn't home, but light from the bedroom suggested Fomo likely was. The lynx leaned toward his partner and spoke to her in a hushed whisper.

"You finish scoping the place out, and I'll see if I can find a way in."

Tess nodded in agreement and peered around the back of the house. There was a second window to the same bedroom, similarly obscured. As she disappeared around the corner, Drake made his way back to the bathroom. He extracted a small pry bar from his bag and carefully wedged it into the window, but several light tugs in a few places let him know it was likely locked.

Moving to the living room, he checked the window, but before he could attempt to pry it open, a light flicked on upstairs and cast a dull glow onto the grass. Someone had gone into the second-story bathroom. He held his breath and listened for several seconds, debating if he should resume what he was doing, or find a better place to hide to avoid his silhouette being spotted from the sidewalk.

Drake activated his commlink. "Someone just went into the bathroom upstairs," he whispered.

There was a brief pause before Tess responded. "Give it a minute. It may be your best opportunity, as long as Forest doesn't come home. I'm almost done setting up."

The lynx considered briefly. If Frosty's collar was anywhere but the bathroom, Tess was right. He checked the signal on his phone. It was close, but the beacon could only do so much in the way of providing a fixed location. The rest would have to be done manually, which meant searching the house for it and hoping it was out in the open.

After waiting a short while, Drake inserted his prying tool into the window and lightly pulled. There was a moment of resistance, then the window frame made a soft crack as the seal was broken. The window was sticky, but unlocked, and there was now a narrow gap as a result. His heart skipped a beat and he held his breath again, hoping the noise hadn't been loud enough to be detected.

Drake watched the lit bathroom and listened closely before he decided to make his move. "Window's open. Watch my back, Tess. I'm going in."

His partner's voice came into his earpiece a moment later. "All clear on this side. Be careful."

Drake grinned. "I'll be quiet as a mouse." He heard a giggle in his earpiece in response.

Gently wiggling the bar against the window frame, Drake forced the window wide enough to get his fingers into the gap, then cautiously slid it open. He waited another moment, then reached through the open window, carefully pushed the blinds away and climbed through.

The grey lynx peered around the darkened living room, his ears upright and listening intently to his surroundings. The lower level of the house was mostly dark, with exception to a dim glow coming from the kitchen, likely a night-light. He couldn't hear anyone moving around upstairs, but there was an unmistakable sound of music playing somewhere. Even better to mask his movements.

Drake decided to start his search upstairs, knowing that his time was limited. He moved carefully across the living room and paused at the foot of the stairs, listening again. Just music. Thankfully, the stairs were carpeted. He began to slowly creep up one step at a time, carefully placing his feet as he went. About three-fourths of the way up, his weight caused a step to creak, and he froze in place for several seconds, heart racing.

After waiting long enough to determine that nobody had heard him, he proceeded the rest of the way to the top of the stairs. He found himself near one end of a short hallway on the second floor, three doors on the one wall, with a single door on the other side. The middle door was the bathroom, light shining from a gap beneath the door. To his right, he could hear music coming from one of the bedrooms.

"You're still clear from what I can tell." The unexpected voice in his earpiece nearly made Drake leap in place. He reached up and tapped his fingers against his collar, sending an automated "all-clear" message back to her without giving himself away by speaking.

Turning to the left, Drake tried the first door at his end of the hall. He carefully turned the knob and pushed it open, then peered inside. The room was dark, and as he took in his surroundings, he quickly realized that it likely wasn't occupied. There was a bed, nightstand, dresser, but not much else. It appeared to be set up as a guest bedroom, and a quick visual sweep gave no indication of the cheetah's belongings.

Cautiously closing the door, he made his way to the opposite end of the hall, pausing beside the bathroom to listen for a moment. Nothing out of the ordinary. When he got to the third door, he was relieved to see that it was propped open. There was a faint glow from inside the room, coming from a desk lamp that he could just see through the gap. The lynx's short tail flicked nervously as he listened, but it appeared to be empty for the moment. He hoped the occupant was the one in the bathroom.

Drake braved sending a whispered message to his partner. "Checking the bedroom now."

He was so focused on his surroundings that he didn't register Tess's lack of a response.

Go away, go away, go away. Tess had tucked herself in between two garbage bins to conceal herself from the piercing beams of a neighbor's headlights just in time. The car was still running in the driveway next door, but after a short while the engine shut off. She listened as the door opened, followed by the rustling of keys and a dull thud. A shadow passed in front of the headlights, which remained illuminated, only to fade when she heard the car lock, indicated by a brief chirp of the horn.

The tuxedo cat's heart was pounding in her chest from the unexpected arrival, and she waited for nearly a minute after she heard the front door close before bringing up her phone. She couldn't see much on the screen, her night-vision temporarily blinded by the intense light. The only thing she could make out was a fuzzy outline of the window blinds gently rocking back and forth in the open window.

As he eased the bedroom door open, Drake poked his head inside and glanced around the room to confirm it was empty. The blankets on the bed hadn't been made, and a set of computer monitors on a desk were still lit, one displaying a lock screen while the other was blank. The workstation appeared to be the source of the music he'd been hearing. Taking a deep breath, the lynx pushed the door the rest of the way open, then stepped into the bedroom.

"Shoulda checked the kitchen first, kitty."

The voice immediately behind him made Drake yowl in surprise, spinning around just in time for a pair of arms to come around his body and trap his wrists. He found himself face-to-face with Fomo, who looked thoroughly annoyed to find the lynx from the previous night inside his house uninvited, especially his room.

Unknown to either of the two felines, unfortunate timing had dealt them a bad hand tonight.

Fomo had only briefly stepped into the bathroom. He was planning to soak in the tub, but had made a diversion to the kitchen for a quick snack when he heard the living room window being forced open. Tess had missed the mouse coming downstairs while she was setting up her last camera, while Drake's attention was focused on breaking in.

The mouse's acute hearing had clued him in to their covert operation. Since Drake had opted to head directly upstairs, it was simply a matter of waiting for a good opportunity to sneak up on him. What Fomo didn't know, was that he'd crept upstairs at the same moment that Tess was distracted with the arrival of his neighbor. She'd missed him in both directions.

Fomo growled quietly as the lynx wiggled in his grasp, keeping Drake's arms pinned helplessly against his sides. The mouse proved surprisingly adept at grappling him as he leaned in close enough for their noses to touch. Drake was petrified, his thoughts moving so quickly that he didn't think to yell.

"You're not as quiet as you think you are, kitty. Nothing gets past these ears. You're no mouse, but I'm happy to help you become part of one."

Drake whimpered loudly and opened his mouth to say something, but a pair of jaws quickly snapped over his short muzzle and clamped it shut again. His purple-tufted ears pinned back as he was given a firm shove and hefted off his feet, plunged face-first into the mouse's throat without hesitation. The music in the bedroom faded as he disappeared beneath the mouse's pelt, replaced by a wet glrrrk.

In short order, the lynx's entire head was a prominent bulge sliding beneath Fomo's neck. Having successfully squeezed one kitty beneath his belt, Fomo was confident that he'd have no trouble managing this one. Knowing that another could be lurking in the shadows somewhere, he had to be quick about it. He nibbled over the purple collar at Drake's neck, pulling it with his teeth and jingling the silver, heart-shaped tag with his tongue.

As the lynx kicked his feet above the floor, Fomo tightened his restrictive hug on the intruder's waist and began to stretch his mouth around his shoulders. Both were forced inside with a wet squelch, the mouse's teeth snagging on Drake's shirt and tugging it as he swallowed firmly. Even with previous experience, the effort proved taxing on Fomo's jaws, which ached from the abruptness that he was stuffing the grey lynx in.

A deep rumble rose from Fomo's belly, the taste of another feline stimulating his appetite in an unexpected way. Fomo had already been feeling peckish, evidenced by his trip to the kitchen, but now his stomach demanded the more-substantial morsel pushing farther into his throat. Working Drake's chest into the slippery tunnel, he maintained a firm grip while bringing him farther into the air to use the lynx's wiggling against him.

The maneuver was an effective one. Drake found himself descending quickly toward the source of the ominous rumble, twisting and arching his body as the slick passage kneaded over him. His feet kicked above the mouse's head as Fomo tipped it back, straightening his path and sending the poor feline spilling downward with no hope of escape. He could scarcely believe it was happening, ears filled with wet gurgles and audible gulps each time Fomo's throat compressed.

Fomo's incisors nibbled down the center of Drake's back, making him involuntarily shiver while another deep gulp pushed his face against the end of the mouse's esophagus. His muzzle wrinkled as it was briefly submerged in shallow drool, which quickly drained away as the fleshy ring parted and allowed his head to push through into Fomo's gut. It gurgled and squelched, slimy walls spreading around Drake's facial features as he descended until he met the bottom. A muffled, pleased groan could be heard as he weighed down on it, making him realize just how much the mouse was enjoying him.

Still struggling, a pair of hands slid over Drake's hips and gave them a healthy squeeze, earning a muffled mrowl while they fidgeted in the mouse's fingers. His purple-tipped grey tail was flicking rapidly in front of Fomo's eyes, but was pushed down over his butt when Fomo unceremoniously stuffed it into his mouth. The short brush dragged across the roof of his mouth, teeth raking through the thick fur as strands of drool matted it down.

Fomo was grateful that the petite lynx had a modest build compared to Frosty, his hips much more manageable than the cheetah's shapely figure. And unlike that spotted cat, Fomo didn't waste any time removing Drake's black pants, knowing they could be worked back up along with the rest of his clothing once his stomach had finished dealing with him. His simply continued swallowing, forcing more of the lynx into his swelling gut as his hips squeezed into Fomo's throat.

"How are things going in there? Nothing unusual to report on my end." a hushed voice inquired from his earpiece.

Drake was so caught up in the moment that he'd nearly forgotten about his partner outside. But his arms were still pinned by the predatory mouse's gullet, making it impossible to respond to her. Convinced that the mouse likely wasn't going to spit him out, Drake could only hope that he'd be able to reach his collar once his torso had fully spilled into Fomo's gut. But with his surroundings already getting tight, it made the situation seem even more hopeless.

As the mouse's jaws crept up his thighs, his curling upper body made a prominent shape in Fomo's belly. His sagging weight was making the mouse croon, and soon Drake felt a pair of hands kneading possessively over him from the outside. They roamed over his cheeks and shoulders, pushing against him intermittently to shove the stomach walls closer. It made the mouse's gut gurgle loudly in his ears as a result.

Tess's voice came into his commlink again. "Hey, let me know if everything's still okay, Drake. Send me an 'ack' if you can't talk right now." She was referring to an acknowledgement message, the same all-clear signal that Drake had given earlier, via his collar. But he was still unable to do so.

It wasn't until he was nearly up to his knees in Fomo's throat that Drake's waist settled in below. The rippling, slimy walls made movement difficult, twisting himself around in the darkness and jerking to either side to work an arm free from his waist. With a soft squelch, he managed to tug one arm up, reaching for his collar a few inches at a time. It was becoming more difficult to move about as Fomo continued to devour him, oblivious to the lynx's attempt to reach his partner.

When he finally brushed the edge of his collar, Drake felt a hint of relief. Maybe there was still hope for him. He tapped his collar to activate the commlink, but nothing happened. Instead of a tone indicating an active channel, he could only hear wet gurgling and slimy pops of his body filling out a predator's belly. He tried again with similar results, and mild panic set in once more. His collar was experiencing the same failure that prevented Frosty from calling for extraction: their touch-responsive devices were being rendered inoperable by copious drool and gastric slime.

"Drake, if I don't get a reply of some kind, I'm coming in after you," Tess warned, her voice growing distinctly urgent.

As his feet were tugged into Fomo's mouth and swallowed without hesitation, Drake's only consolation was that she would certainly attempt to rescue him. Assuming that she didn't fall victim to the mouse's appetite, as well. All he could do now was hope and wait, his legs kneaded down into the mouse's belly, forcing him to bend his knees as he was cramped into a fetal position.

"Son of a bitch," Tess growled. "Where are you, Drake?" she asked herself.

She was becoming increasingly concerned with her partner's lack of response, but as she continued to flip from one camera to the next, nothing seemed to be out of the ordinary. She couldn't see anyone inside, nor could she hear any commotion. But the knowledge that she was essentially blind to the second floor didn't ease her mind.

After another attempt went unanswered, she knew that something was wrong. Checking her surroundings, Tess stuffed her phone into her bag and emerged from a hiding spot in the bushes. Hastily moving around the back of the house, she darted from one corner to the other, peered around once more, then made a beeline for the open living room window. Crouching low, she leaned toward it and listened closely, but didn't immediately hear any signs of trouble.

The blinds rustled as she slipped inside, observing the darkened surroundings with perked ears. At first, nothing seemed out of the ordinary. She could hear soft music coming from upstairs, confirming that Fomo likely was home even though she hadn't seen him. Then she heard a voice upstairs.

"Oooh, that's it, kitty, keep wiggling. You're even more lively than Frosty was, and you feel amazing in there."

Tess growled, but reminded herself to be cautious as she approached the stairs. She could hear soft squeaks and pleased groaning, steadily more audible as she climbed each step. The tuxedo cat cursed herself for not bringing a weapon, but needle-sharp claws were the next best thing, if required.

At the top of the stairs, her head toward the source of the noises. A dark silhouette could be seen in the open bedroom door, and even in the dim light, she quickly recognized what had taken place. She could see the mouse's arms cradling a heavy gut as he stood in the doorway, facing away from her, ropey tail lashing about quickly as the swollen shape shifted and stretched.

Fomo had eaten her partner. And given the context of his comments, Frosty as well. Her tail bristled as she growled again, and without thinking, rushed to Drake's rescue.

The mouse's huge ears swiveled back when he heard an ominous feline noise and rapid footsteps, and his heard turned to investigate just before Tess collided with him. Fortunately for Fomo, her intention wasn't to knock him down, as she didn't want to injure Drake in the process.

A startled squeak pierced the room as her arms came around his waist, forcing Fomo to step forward to catch the momentum of her impact. Fuzzy black arms tightened against him, white hands burying themselves beneath the sagging weight of Drake's body, which proceeded to make a forceful upward thrust akin to the Heimlich.

HRRRRK! The sharp pressure on his stomach forced the air from Fomo's lungs as Tess attempted to force him to disgorge her partner. The first attempt was unsuccessful, as was a second. Drake made muffled yowls at the violent jostling, shoving his hands and feet against the walls in a futile attempt to avoid sloshing around in the churning gut as it compressed uncomfortably on his body. Unknown to him, the attempts to steady himself were working against Tess's efforts to free the lynx.

After recovering from the second upheaval, Fomo twisted himself sharply in place while grabbing at the tuxedo cat's arms. He attempted to break her loose, but only managed to toss her sideways into his dresser. One arm came free of the mouse's waist so Tess could catch herself, planting her hand on the dresser beside the door. Something slipped beneath her fingers, followed by a distinct metallic jingle, and she quickly glanced down to investigate.

There it was.

Before Fomo could throw her away, she wrapped her fingers tightly around the black collar and snatched it from the dresser. She tried desperately to maintain her grip around the mouse's waist while he twisted against her again, reaching down and fumbling with her studded belt until she succeeded in activating her commlink.

"Felix, this is Tess. We need emergency extraction, now!"

Fomo growled and grabbed at Tess's wrist, then reached for her upper arm and hunched down. By the time she realized what was happening, the mouse was already throwing her over his shoulder. After one-too-many close encounters with would-be predators, Fomo had taken it upon himself to learn self-defense to avoid a one-way trip through someone's stomach. It was the reason he'd managed to turn the tables on Frosty as well.

With a shriek, Tess sailed head-over-heels and landed on her back on the carpet at the foot of Fomo's bed. The impact knocked the air out of her lungs and left her momentarily stunned, but she thankfully maintained her grip on Frosty's collar.

As she looked toward the ceiling, an imposing gut came into view, gurgling unhappily and shifting about as a result of her disturbance. Fomo was still clutching her wrist to ensure that feline claws didn't come back at him, glowering down at her over his belly.

"I don't know what you're trying to pull here, kitty, but it's not gonna happen. You're about to find out what it's like to be mouse food, just like your friend here." Fomo's free hand reached for the front of his gut, groping at it to taunt her, as well as the lynx inside.

Before either of them could react, a blinding flash illuminated the room. Fomo flinched and reached both arms up to shield his eyes from the light, which was nearly bright enough to be painful. Though it only lasted a brief moment, the effects lingered long after. Reeling back, Fomo rubbed his eyes and blinked rapidly once the light faded, leaving his vision splotchy and making it difficult to see much until the artifacts began to fade.

To his surprise, the tuxedo cat had vanished. As Fomo's eyes scanned the room, there were no signs of her presence. Everything was exactly where it had been, with exception to one item: the cheetah's collar. She had succeeded in making off with it somehow.

How, exactly? What the heck just happened? Did I just get flashbanged?

The mouse's round ears swiveled back, listening closely to his surroundings, but the only noises he heard came from his churning gut. The grey lynx he'd eaten was still trapped in his gut, lively as ever. At least it wasn't a total loss, he considered while groping at his passenger again. He'd succeeded in adding another feline to his diet, even if the other had gotten away. It meant more would likely show up at his house, though.

Maybe that's not such a bad thing. More kitties, more food. He pondered this with a growing smirk, licking his lips at the lingering taste while his stomach clenched around the lynx.

"Come on, kitty. Let's get you in the tub so I can relax a bit. Feel free to keep wiggling, though. I bet it'll feel great to let you digest while I soak..."