FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

"Ohhhh, that's much better." Fomo breathed a heavy sigh of relief as a majority of the lynx's weight was lifted off his gut by the steaming bath. He'd nearly overflowed the tub in the process, and had to let out quite a bit of water before he could fully settle in. As a result, when he slid down until his face was just above the waterline, his stomach still rose above the surface like a living island.

A gurgling, squirming island. Even after Fomo had thoroughly explored the house (and ensured all the doors and windows were securely locked), Drake was still fussing about his current situation. Although he was starting to wear himself down, the grey lynx still had enough spark to make his predator's gut visibly shift, creating shallow ripples in the water. Curling his toes against the front edge of the tub, Fomo pushed down on his belly with one hand while he lifted it a few more inches.

"Gosh, kitty. I didn't think you'd still be going after this much time in a mouse gut. Even the chee didn't squirm this long." The mouse groped at the top of his belly and rocked gently, making the water slosh against his body. His teasing words earned another weak struggle, feline paws visibly stretching the white fur upward until a contraction of stomach muscles forced Drake to submit.

Feeling his gut settling a bit, Fomo grinned to himself and let out another blissful sigh. A soft burp escaped while he rubbed himself down, large ears perked up to listen to noisy gurgling that reverberated richly in the quiet bathroom. His fingertips played over the shapes in his swollen white abdomen, following the outline of the grey cat he'd eaten earlier.

"Just relax and settle in, mousie's got 'ya." A soft, muffled whine made Fomo's smirk grow, shivering when Drake fidgeted and stretched again. "Oooh, but I'm not gonna complain if you wanna keep wiggling like that. I'm sure you'll digest just fine, either way."

The feeling of a wiggling cat in his belly, combined with the taste lingering on his breath, was nearly as gratifying as the first one he'd devoured. After years of being the target of countless hungry cats and narrowly avoiding making his own trip to a belly on several occasions, it felt good to turn the tables on them.

While he doted on his gurgling stomach, Fomo closed his eyes and let his head rest back against the edge of the tub. He considered this change of pace, still grinning at the thoughts that went through his mind. He'd learned how to defend himself and escape dangerous situations, but now the ball was in his court. How many more unsuspecting cats could he catch by surprise, only to find their way down the mouse's throat?

Only time would tell. But Fomo felt confident enough in his newfound ability that he figured Frosty and the lynx wouldn't be the only ones he'd devour and digest. They certainly agreed with his gut well enough, he mused with a giggle, feeling Drake finally surrendering to digestion and relaxing beneath the steady contractions of taut abdominal muscles. The mouse's hands roamed to the front of his belly again and gave a firm squeeze while he offered a dreamy croon.

"That's right, kitty. You're all mine now..."

* * * * * * * * * *

Administering electrical stimulation.

Calling it stimulation was putting it nicely. To the occupant of the lab's reforming pod, it felt more like being kicked by a mule while an explosion of fireworks simultaneously went off in his head. The calculated jolt caused their body to stiffen, arching away from the padded bed, of sorts, that supported their nude, damp figure. As the white and grey-spotted cat settled back into the cushion, there was a quiet moment before he sharply gasped, taking his first deep breath. After several more, the cheetah's blue eyes fluttered open, but only gazed upward blank and unfocused as his body recovered from the shock. Though the final step in reforming someone was an abrupt one, affectionately called a "jumpstart," it was necessary to wake the subject up as soon as possible once the building process was complete, to avoid lasting impairment.

Awareness came slowly at first, but as the lid of the pod opened with an airy hiss, the cat's gaze shifted to investigate himself and his surroundings. The last thing he could remember clearly was a mouse's voice taunting him, slimy walls rolling over his body from all directions as he began to digest. At that point everything had blanked out, and suddenly he was in a familiar place again, as if he'd woken up from a dream, but Frosty knew better.

His chest had several wire leads connected which had delivered the electric pulse, while a number of others on his head and torso were monitoring his vitals. His vision was blurry, but steadily clearing as a tawny figure came into view and stood over him. The white cheetah couldn't immediately make out any distinct features, but he'd been in this place enough times that he immediately recognized who it was.

"Good morning, sleepyhead," a soft voice chuckled. "How're you feeling?"

Frosty groaned quietly and let his head rest heavily against a thick cushion that served as a pillow. "Like I got hit by a bus, as usual," he replied to the cougar.

As she listened to the cheetah's chest and checked his vitals, the physician chuckled. "Well, you don't look much worse for wear, considering. A lot nicer than you did before your fur grew in, anyway."

"Ari!" a voice scolded from the other side of the room. "You have terrible bedside manners!"

Despite the other's concern, Frosty managed a giggle, which he immediately regretted due to the lingering tenderness in his chest from being shocked. "Ow."

The tawny cat grinned and stood upright, satisfied that everything seemed to be normal for the moment, both physically and demeanor. "Gotcha again." After scribbling a few notes on a patient chart, she propped her elbows on the rubberized rim of the tube-shaped pod and leaned over Frosty.

"So, who was it?" she asked with a knowing smirk. "Was it that wuff again?"

As one of the physicians who regularly worked in the infirmary and reforming suite, Ari was well aware of the cheetah's reputation - and kept a running tally in Frosty's medical record, unknown to him, of all the times he'd been devoured. Given that they were close friends, he probably would have found it humorous.

Frosty's eyes diverted and his cheeks flushed at the question. Though he was timid about sharing instances where he'd ended up in someone's gut, Ari could generally coax it out of him. It was different this time, however. Even when she gently urged, he maintained his silence as his face grew steadily warmer.

The cougar tsk'd and reached up, placing the back of her hand against Frosty's cheek. "Oh, dear. Are you coming down with a fever, chee?" she teased. "Let me just get my rectal thermometer."

An outburst of giggling erupted from the nurse in the room, despite her earlier objection. It only made the cheetah's blushing worse. But eventually he cleared his throat and mumbled a reply. "Fomo."

Ari's green eyes flashed with recognition, familiar enough with the cheetah's missions to know who he was speaking of. "Seriously? Fomo? Are you telling me that Frosty, the talented mouse-catching cheetah, was mouse food?"

"Sh-shut up, Ari." It felt like his face was burning now, his cheeks crimson beneath white fur.

Still giggling, she brushed back the cheetah's damp hair and stood upright. His ears flattened in embarrassment, instantly regretting that he'd divulged the identity of his predator.

"Don't worry, spottycat. I won't tell anyone your dirty little secret. Wouldn't want to tarnish your reputation. Right, Sarah?"

The snow leopard sitting at a computer terminal grinned back at her. "No promises."

Frosty audibly huffed. "You're both awful. I want a new medical team."

Grinning, Ari winked at Frosty. "You'd miss us too much. Don't worry, chee, your secret's safe with us. Promise." As she said this, she covertly scribbled a note in the cheetah's file. "I need to check in on another patient. You get some rest, Frosty. We're a page away if you need anything."

He breathed a soft sigh of relief that they were leaving. As Ari turned and made her way to the door, a hand reached up and lightly tugged her lab coat to get her attention. She bent down and Sarah murmured into her ear, "Wasn't the wuff. You owe me twenty bucks."

"I heard that!" Frosty interjected, prompting a renewed blush that the girls were wagering on what, or more accurately who, was responsible for him winding up in a reforming pod again...

* * * * * * * * * *

Having been given a clean bill of health, the following day Frosty was released from the infirmary and authorized for light duty, along with a playful ribbing from Ari about avoiding mice until he was back to his full self, much to Frosty's chagrin. As a field agent, "light duty" meant that he was restricted from his primary job, and left him little else to do since Felix was responsible for the technical side of things on their team.

Still physically drained from reforming, most of his time was spent either sleeping or kicking back in bed in his private suite. And that meant he also had a lot of time to think.

His mind played over the events that had transpired again and again. He compared the mouse he knew well, to the one that had met him at the door only a few days prior. It was like a completely different person. All the previous iterations of Fomo that Frosty had met in various timelines were rather reserved and timid. Almost innocent, even. Anything but the confident, assertive mouse that had caught Frosty by surprise, and subsequently devoured him.

Frosty was at odds with himself. With enough gentle coaxing and a healthy heap of sweet-talk, most confident predators could convince the cheetah to be their dinner. Forest was especially talented at it, evidenced by the fact that they'd worked out a system with him to recover the cheetah from his semi-frequent trysts through the wolf's digestive tract.

But this mouse was different. He'd never_demonstrated those qualities, so his turnaround had completely blindsided Frosty. The fact that his previous self was now padding Fomo's waist added insult to injury, that an "innocent" mouse could have accomplished such a feat. Ari and Sarah would certainly never let him hear the end of it, and Frosty still needed to provide a report of the incident to his handler. A report that would require _a full, detailed explanation of how a mouse like Fomo had managed to subdue, devour, and digest the agent that was routinely assigned to deal with him.

Frosty blushed at the realization and shifted nervously in bed. Well, his secret wouldn't be one for much longer. They had to know, especially considering that Fomo wasn't even supposed to have a presence in this timeline. He didn't belong here, and the longer he stayed, the greater the possibility for unexpected surprises, though nobody could really be sure what that entailed, or if that statement was even true. Frosty's job was anything but an exact science; a lot of it was still theoretical. Still, better to be safe than sorry in regard to introducing unexpected variables into an already-chaotic world where eating your friends wasn't uncommon.

His musing was interrupted by a door chime. He had a visitor. "Door's unlocked," Frosty loudly announced.

The door opened and a black-and-white cat appeared at the cheetah's bedside a moment later, pulling up a wooden chair and sitting backwards so she could lean on the backrest. "Hey, Frosty. Good to have you back. How you feeling?"

Frosty's answer was as automatic as it had been with Ari. "Like I got..."

"...digested by a mouse?" Tess interrupted.

Frosty's face got hot, and his expression was half embarrassment, half betrayal. "That cougar has a big mouth."

The tuxedo cat raised an eyebrow at him. "You mean Ari? Haven't talked with her since I got back from my mission."

"Oh. Sarah?"

Tess shook her head. "Strike two. I had a little run-in with your friend Fomo, actually."

The cheetah's ears stood up and his gaze intensified as he looked up at her. "What? How?"

"Trying to get you, actually. You're welcome, by the way," she jabbed, though there was a detectable amount of sarcasm in her tone.

"Oh, come on. Don't be like that, Tess. Nobody's brought me up to speed yet on what's happened while I was out, so I couldn't have known that. You're the first person that's visited since I got out of infirm. But thanks for saving my ass, either way."

"Again," Tess added with a smirk. It was far from the first time that she'd been personally responsible for recovering Frosty from an unfortunate situation.

"He...uh...didn't give you any trouble, did he?" Frosty inquired, suddenly nervous.

Tess's expression grew more serious, which only made the cheetah's anxiety grow. "Oh, that mouse gave us plenty. We tried the usual exchange, but he turned us down flat."

"I don't think he knows about that," Frosty added. "I'm pretty sure Forest is the only one we've ever made that arrangement with."

The tuxedo cat sighed heavily. "That would have been nice to know before we attempted it. Felix insisted that we get you back, though. And now I'm down a partner for it," she added bitterly.

Frosty shot upright in bed. "Wait, what?"

Tess huffed, slumping in the chair and resting her chin on top of her arms, which were folded over the top of her seat. "Apparently one cat wasn't good enough for Fomo. We tried to sneak in to get your collar, but Drake was ambushed. I got inside just in time to hear the mouse gloating about getting him down. Tried rescuing him, but...it didn't go well. Managed to grab your collar and extract, but Drake didn't make it out with me."

She looked suddenly guilty about the fact that he'd been left behind, even though it hadn't been a deliberate decision. Tess had been devastated when she realized that she'd arrived back at the CATS chamber alone. Drake was a rookie, and his handling and training had been her responsibility.

Frosty rested his forehead in a hand and groaned. "Damn it, Felix. This isn't how we do things. Did anyone try to contact Forest before this happened?"

Tess shook her head. "No. We figured it would be too much of a risk to go back, given how things went the first time. Fomo was pretty standoffish, so we had to take a different approach."

"Forest has a cell phone!" Frosty protested. "One phone call or text message likely could have avoided this whole mess, and...ugh."

The deadpan expression on Tess's face made it clear that it hadn't been considered. And she knew Frosty was right. At Felix's instruction, they'd moved too quickly before considering other options.

"So, you're telling me that in the process of getting me back, we traded one field agent for another, and we're right back in the same situation."

The tuxedo cat frowned and nodded. "Yeah, I'd say that sums it up. We've been working out what to do next, but I wanted to touch base with you before we proceeded."

Frosty sighed heavily and looked over at Tess. "Don't do anything."

She blinked in response. "What?"

"I didn't stutter," Frosty said flatly. "We're not sending another extraction team in. The last thing we need to be doing right now is break into someone's home, let alone Forest's, and risk more people being ambushed and making our MIA list any bigger than it already is. I'm the one that got us into this mess, Fomo is my assignment, so let me handle this."

"Frosty, you're in no condition to be running missions. You haven't even been out of infirm a full day," Tess protested.

The cheetah shook his head. "I'm on light duty, not under house arrest. Let's do things my way before we make this situation any worse than it already is. I'll deal with Felix."

Tess reluctantly shrugged and raised her hands in surrender. "Your way already got you eaten. But fine. I'll let you run with this. But if you can't get Drake back, I'll go there and get both of you from that mouse myself. I have a score to settle with him..."

* * * * * * * * * *

Fomo hummed to himself as he stepped out of the shower, wafts of steam rising off his body as he reached for his towel and proceeded to dry his dripping fur. The mouse's tail flicked as he worked, idly swaying when he bent down to reach his legs. It was still a chore to lean down, his belly bearing a lingering roundness from the two cats that had joined his diet that week. Generally limber and flexible from his exercise routine, he couldn't even touch his own toes at the moment, much to his annoyance.

Strolling to the sink, the mouse lifted his towel and proceeded to wipe the steam clear from the mirror so he could look himself over. "Man, you kitties sure are fattening," Fomo mused with a chuckle as he inspected his softened figure.

Turning to the side, Fomo reached behind his neck and stretched, pushing out his belly and grinning at the slight sag it still held. It was gradually shrinking with each passing day, hastened by the mouse's exceptional metabolism and workouts. He wouldn't be able to make a regular habit of this, else his curvy figure would be ruined.

As his eyes scrutinized his reflection in the mirror, something dawned on him. Reaching down, he traced his palms along his pudgy sides, then continued down to his hips. Fomo was used to having a naturally feminine build due to rodent genes. But something felt...different. Much like his belly, the mouse's hips were unusually soft. And as he turned to face slightly away from the mirror, it became more apparent just how full they looked.

Maybe it was just his imagination, though. He needed a second opinion. Pushing the bathroom door open, Fomo leaned out. "Hey, Wuff! I need you real quick!"

While he waited, Fomo returned to the mirror and continued studying his figure, hands exploring every contour of his hips, butt, and thighs. His large ears perked when he heard footsteps approaching down the hall.

"What do 'ya need, mou-" Forest paused in front of the open bathroom door when he was greeted with an eyeful of naked mouse facing away from him. Fomo peered over his shoulder and was met by a wide-eyed wolf, Forest's cheeks rapidly turning crimson.

"Does my butt look bigger to you, wuffie?" Fomo asked without missing a beat, adding a wiggle in the process.

"U-uh...I mean..." Forest stammered as he stared, then quickly looked away when he realized it and bashfully rubbed the back of his neck. "I d-don't r-really...make a habit of...yeah..."

"Come on, wuffie, I wanna know! It feels like those two kitties went right to my hips. Here!" Fomo twisted around and reached back, causing Forest to yelp in surprise when the mouse grabbed his wrists and guided their hands to his swaying hips.

"F-Fomo!" Forest protested, feeling his cheeks erupt as he was forced to squeeze pawfuls of mouse butt in each hand. As soon as Fomo released his wrists he yanked them away, coughing audibly and rubbing his blushing cheeks.

"You're no help," the mouse teased, wiggling again and giggling at his roommate's flustered expression.

"U-uh...a-anything else?" Forest nervously asked, hoping the mouse would say no.

"Nah, that's all I wanted. I'll have to get someone else's opinion, I guess. Maybe the chee, whenever I see him again," Fomo added with a smirk.

"Y-yeah, good idea," the wolf murmured back, then made a hasty retreat to his bedroom to gather his composure after what had just transpired.

Giggling to himself, Fomo bumped the bathroom door closed with his hip and finished drying himself off, looking over his shoulder at the mirror one last time while he hung the towel back up. As his pink tail flicked around, he finally noticed a patch of faint grey spots on his lower back. Reaching down, he brushed his fingers through the small splotches of dark-grey fur that stood out against his base coat. Strange. He'd never grown spots in the past, that he could recall. His coat had always been uniform grey and white.

"Maybe the chee...?" he wondered, grinning when he reached down to give his own hips another squeeze. A silly thought, but one that he enjoyed all the same.

A noisy rattle snapped Fomo from his thought and his eyes turned to the sink, where his cell phone was slowly shifting across the smooth surface as it vibrated. It was nearly enough to hurt his ears as it reverberated in the bathroom, quickly slapping a hand over the phone to avoid further rattling.

The mouse's eyes narrowed when he read the message previewed on the screen.

Frosty (just now): Hey, can we meet up somewhere and chat?

"I don't recall giving you my number," Fomo mused aloud. The fact that the cheetah was identified by name in the message, however, made it clear that at some point, Fomo had obtained his. But he couldn't remember doing that, either. He shrugged it off and considered how to reply, then grinned when it came to him.

You: Actually, I was just thinking about grabbing a bite to eat, but you'll do just fine.

Setting the phone down again, Fomo reached for a pair of boxer-briefs, which he quickly discovered fit more snugly than he would have liked. Next came his jeans, listening for his phone for a reply while he struggled to pull them up.

"Oh, come on," the mouse grumbled. He paused a moment, sucked in his stomach and stood upright, then gave another tug, wiggling to squeeze into his pants. It took a good deal of effort, and no small amount of squirming and tugging, but eventually he was able to pull the denim fabric up his hips. As he attempted to tug the corners of his fly together, however, it became clear that he might be fighting a losing battle. He shifted his hips and tugged to encourage the fabric to relax, sucked in his gut again, then strained to pull the ends of his button together. After several unsuccessful attempts, he gave up.

"Okay, no more kitties until I've worked you two off," Fomo grumbled defeatedly, slipping his fingers beneath the waistband and struggling again to peel his jeans off.

While he was bent over to wiggle them down his thighs, the cell phone came to life again, causing the mouse to jump in surprise and nearly trip on his pants. Catching himself with the bathroom sink, he grabbed up the phone again and reviewed the text message waiting for him.

Frosty (just now): I think you've had enough kitties already, mousie. Look, I heard about what happened the other day. I would have never let them pull a stunt like that.

Another message followed immediately after. This is probably going to sound crazy, but you have to trust me. Unless you want to keep having situations like that, I need you to hear me out.

Fomo frowned, considering the break-in had taken place recently. He'd handled one cat easily enough, but the second had gotten the drop on him. Fortunately, some quick thinking had given him the upper hand. But then the tuxedo cat had vanished into thin air. What else could Frosty's associates be capable of? Maybe the chee could shed some light on that.

Then something else occurred to him. Was it even Frosty sending the messages? What if it was a setup? Only one way to find out.

You: How can I be so sure? Who is this, really?

Frosty (just now): It's Frosty. You know, the one that left the claw marks on your furniture.

"Yup, definitely the chee," Fomo mumbled. Nobody else could have known that tidbit, aside from himself and Forest. Fomo considered his options. After what Frosty had attempted, could he really be trusted? On the other hand, did he want to risk more cats breaking into his house? If nothing else, perhaps he could level the playing field a bit...

You: Okay, chee. I'll listen. Meet me in the jogging park ALONE in an hour and we'll talk. But try anything funny and I'll be having spottycat for lunch again.

The response that followed was surprising. Frosty (just now): Deal. But only if you bring Drake's things with you. He was the other kitty you ate.

Fomo was guarded, debating if it was a good idea to follow through on this. One thing stood out in his mind: the cheetah was generally honest about his intentions, with a few notable exceptions. Despite his reservations, he sent his reply.

You: And he was nearly as tasty as you. See you in an hour, spottycat...

* * * * * * * * * *

The cheetah's eyes nervously scanned the park as he reclined on a bench, tail lashing quickly behind him. It was getting close to the time he and Fomo had agreed to meet, but so far, he'd seen no sign of the mouse. He wasn't sure what to expect, and hoped that he wasn't walking himself into another gurgling end. Fomo hadn't explicitly agreed to his terms.

Fomo wasn't the only person he was keeping a watchful eye out for, however. Although Tess and Felix had agreed to let the cheetah handle things for the moment, he wasn't sure if anyone would attempt to follow him. Felix had also strongly objected to the cheetah's plan, echoing Tess's opinion on the matter. Like the feisty tuxedo cat, however, he recognized when Frosty wasn't going to take no for an answer. At least this time they knew where the cheetah was going, should anything occur.

Much as he didn't want to admit, they were right about one thing. He wasn't in any condition to be doing this. The walk to the park had been a nice change of pace to being cooped up in his room, and the fresh air awakened his senses for a short while, but now that he was relaxing beneath a warm afternoon sun, the lack of energy was quickly catching up with him. And as the minutes ticked by, the urge to have a nap was becoming more pressing.

"Come on, Fomo, where are you?" Frosty grumbled. Leaning his head against the back rest, the cheetah closed his eyes as the sun beamed down on him, warming his face. His ears flicked lightly, following the sounds of joggers as they approached and passed, a group of teens playing frisbee, and the occasional excited shriek from the playground.

While he wondered if the mouse would even show up, Frosty drew in a deep breath and sighed. At least the weather was nice. Pleasant enough, in fact, that he didn't notice himself beginning to nod.

"Terrible place to have a nap, spottycat," a cheeky voice murmured into the cheetah's ear as a pair of arms came around his chest from behind and pinned his arms to his sides.

A startled chirrup erupted from the cheetah's lips and he nearly leapt off the bench in surprise, but grey arms tightened against his torso and pinned him against the backrest. Squirming in place, Frosty realized there wasn't anything he could do for the moment, and craned his head back to peer at his "attacker" upside-down. He was met with familiar mouse features, lips pulled back in a wide grin that exposed Fomo's front teeth.

"You really gotta be more careful, chee. Never know when some hungry predator might come along and just...squeeze 'ya down," Fomo giggled, letting their noses bump. He then wetly dragged his tongue along the cheetah's short muzzle, deliberately hanging his mouth open to ensure that Frosty got a good look inside.

"Fomo!" he protested, ears pinning flat as his cheeks became suddenly red.

Despite an audible belly growl that resulted from a fresh taste of cheetah, the mouse heeded Frosty's objection for the moment. Tempted as he was to follow-through while the lingering flavor brought back pleasant memories of that white cat pushing and wiggling about in his gut, Fomo's curiosity was burning at what Frosty had on his mind. And he had questions of his own that would go unanswered if he devoured the white cat. But he couldn't resist the urge to tease, either.

Though he maintained his grip on Frosty's torso, Fomo lifted his head away and licked his lips. "Don't worry, chee. I'm not going you eat you. Yet."

"I-I'd rather you didn't," Frosty mumbled unconvincingly, blushing cheeks giving away what he really thought about being mouse food.

Fomo was still grinning as he peered down to the cheetah leaning backwards to gaze up at him. "Never hear you complain much about being wuff food."

"B-but you're not a wuff," Frosty stated the obvious, distracted from the reason he'd come due to Fomo's boldness.

"I'd be happy to remind you that you fit in a mouse just fine, kitty. You look pretty good as mouse fat. Considering how flustered you look right now, I bet I could nibble your ears, start yawning at you...and you'd slip right in." As the mouse spoke, his head dipped and he swiped across Frosty's nose and cheek with his tongue, causing the cheetah to fidget and whine again.

"But like I said, you're safe for now, chee, as long as you behave yourself," Fomo continued. Leaning up, he released his grip on Frosty's torso and reached back into his hood, which was sagging behind his head with additional weight. The mouse produced a bundled package, which he then dropped gently into Frosty's lap.

Breathing a sigh of relief at being freed, the cheetah's eyes drifted down, immediately recognizing the silvery material that made up the outer layer of the bundle. It was a CAT suit, which allowed Frosty to relax a bit more. As he peered back to Fomo, the mouse's gaze softened somewhat.

"I kept my end of the bargain, chee. I don't know why I feel so compelled to trust you despite everything that's happened recently, but I'm curious what you've got to say." As a group of cubs ran past them on the way to the playground, the mouse smirked. "But maybe we should find somewhere a bit quieter first. I know a good spot at the other end of the park," Fomo continued as he gestured, where the trees began to thicken into a lush forest.

All the better to deal with the chee as well, should he try anything, Fomo didn't add. For all his teasing, he had reservations about trying to make a meal of Frosty in such a public spot. He couldn't be sure who might come to the cheetah's aid, not to mention the risk of larger predators that might try to take advantage of a glutted mouse.

As they began to walk, Frosty had to recompose himself a bit. Even before Fomo had arrived he wasn't really sure what to say, and the mouse's persistent teasing was further hampering his ability to think clearly.

"You got awfully quiet all of a sudden, chee," Fomo observed after a minute.

Frosty sighed. "I don't even know where to start."

The mouse frowned and gazed over at Frosty, tail lashing for a moment. "How about an explanation of why you decided to suddenly turn around and try to get me down? Of all the people, a_food kitty_ that I've known for years now is the last I would've expected. Or, how about why two of your friends tried to ambush me in my own house?"

Pausing near a large oak tree, the cheetah turned to face Fomo, lightly bobbing the package of Drake's belongings between his hands. "Both of those things are related. And...I doubt you'll even believe me. It's probably going to sound insane."

Fomo folded his arms over his chest. "Chee, my week started with a vivid dream about being spottycat food that felt uncomfortably real, then you showed up on my doorstep the very next day and tried to eat me, and I can't shake this feeling of déjà vu about the whole thing. So try me."

The revelation earned a puzzled expression. Frosty thought back on the timing of things while he gazed at Fomo, who waited for an explanation. The day before he visited Forest's house and had his run-in with Fomo...

"It wasn't just a dream," Frosty eventually replied. "That really happened. Uh, a couple times."

The mouse quirked an eyebrow at him. "Okay, you're right. That's crazy. I don't know what catnip you've been getting into, chee, but I know that I've never been anyone's food in my life. Least of all a food kitty like you."

"That's not entirely true," the cheetah persisted. "I mean...it's complicated."

Fomo was quickly becoming visibly annoyed, his tail moving faster. "Chee, I'm starting to feel like I wasted my time coming here. Do you really expect me to believe that? I've had more close-encounters with the inside of a predator's mouth than I'd care to, but nobody's ever managed to actually keep me down. And unlike you and the wuff, I doubt I can just magically poof back into existence after being eaten."

"I can prove it," Frosty countered, thinking back on the collar still hanging on the door in his private suite. The fiery look that Fomo gave made him immediately regret his poor choice of words.

"Okay, you know what? I take back what I said earlier," Fomo growled, taking a step toward the cheetah and prompting Frosty to back up until he felt himself press against the oak tree. "I'm having a kitty for lunch after all."

As the mouse leaned in closer, Frosty winced at the ominous rumbling that rose from his gut. He attempted to duck beneath Fomo's reach, but the mouse was quick to grab his shoulders and pin him against the gnarled trunk.

"Not so fast, chee. Only place you're going is a mouse gu-hhn!"

With the two face-to-face, and a bristling mouse completely obscuring his view, neither Frosty nor Fomo had seen another individual sneaking up. A pair of white-and black forearms came around the mouse's neck, dragging him backwards off Frosty and tightening into an effective choke hold. Fomo's hands immediately came up and attempted to pry them free, but the grip was secure, and he could already feel his strength quickly fading.

"Not this time, mouse," a feminine voice growled.

Frosty's eyes went wide when a familiar face came into view beside Fomo's, pulling the mouse close to minimize the risk of being thrown as he fought. "Tess, what are you doing here?" he blurted, though he remained where he was as he looked on, helping neither of them.

Fomo grabbed at the tuxedo cat's arm and tried to bend down, stumbling somewhat as he attempted to turn things around as he'd done their previous encounter. But consciousness was quickly leaving him, vision going dark around the edges, and fighting was only making it worse. Tess followed the mouse down as he fell to his knees, his struggles weakening with each passing second. He made one more attempt to grab at her arms and tug, then Fomo's limbs went slack. Tess maintained the hold for several seconds until she was sure the mouse was out cold, then cautiously loosened her grip. She only needed to incapacitate the mouse, not kill him.

Panting lightly from the struggle, Tess peered up at Frosty with a stern face. "Saving your butt, because you don't listen."

"I told you not to be follow me," Frosty objected. "I can handle myself just fine."

Releasing Fomo, the tuxedo cat rose to her feet as her white-tipped tail flicked. "Sure didn't look like it to me. You were almost mouse food again, Frosty."

"I could have talked him down if you hadn't barged in!"

"Bullshit! I saw how things were going. You were two seconds from having your face between his jaws. If I hadn't been here, we'd be sending in another team to recover you." Tess's tail was moving rapidly now, showing clear agitation with how ungrateful the cheetah was being. "A thank you would-"

Slrrrp. The wet sensation that swiftly moved up her tail abruptly cut off Tess's thought as the fur on the back of her neck stood up. Her attention was immediately diverted from Frosty as her head snapped around, gazing down and meeting a pair of blue eyes peering up at her. She hadn't noticed that Fomo had regained consciousness while they were arguing. Large mouse ears pinned back as Fomo's lips curled back into a smirk, currently wrapped around the base of Tess's dark tail. The rest of it was wiggling in the mouse's throat.

"You little-!"

Before Tess could finish, Fomo's hands grabbed at her hips and yanked back. A feline yowl pierced the air as she toppled backwards, and the only thing to catch her fall was a gaping mouse yawn. Fomo's teeth pressed against the base of her back while he attempted to work his lower jaw around her taut rump, maintaining a firm grip on Tess's hips and pulling abruptly to wedge her in. It was a difficult thing to manage, and he wasn't even sure if he'd be able to pull this off, but it was too late to turn back. As the mouse's cheeks stretched around the thick mouthful, he gave another sharp tug that forced Tess to bend forward until her thighs were nearly pinned to her belly.

Frosty could only look on wide-eyed at the scene taking place before him, frozen in place and feeling conflicted about what he should do. Annoyed as he was that Tess had ignored his wishes, he wasn't about to help Fomo stuff her down. But watching the small grey mouse begin to work his jaws up her torso was causing a blush to develop in his cheeks. The sight brought back vivid memories of Frosty's own encounter with Fomo's appetite.

Too distracted to notice Frosty's lack of assistance, Tess reached back and attempted to pry herself free of the mouse's drooling jaws. When she pushed against Fomo's face, the mouse quickly snatched her wrists and pushed them to her sides to further restrain Tess. He was struggling to fit her down like this, especially considering how much she was thrashing about to break loose. But as Fomo pulled her by the wrists, the tuxedo cat's hips dipped into his throat.

Gluck. Tess let out another yelp as she suddenly dropped several inches into Fomo's gullet. Slimy muscles stretched to their limits around the folded shape of her body, the mouse's eyes closing tight with effort as he forced himself to continue with another strained gulp, stuffing the cat's hands into his cheeks alongside her waist. It was slow-going, but he was managing to make it work despite the aching warmth on his neck, lingering effects from being choked out moments earlier.

Tess was clearly not pleased with the situation. "If you don't let me out, I'm gonna...!"

Another deep swallow cut her off, pulling Tess up to her waist, thighs dragging across Fomo's slick tongue. Satisfied that she wouldn't be able to free her arms at this point, Fomo let go of them and reached for Tess's shoulders instead. Gripping tightly, he leaned his head back to straighten his neck, then gave a firm shove that filled the air with a wet squelch as several more inches of struggling cat were fed down. The mouse's advancing jaws forced her legs to straighten until Tess's feet were pressed to either side of her head in a rather undignified fashion.

With Fomo's head back and Tess's shins pushed upward, the cheetah was allowed an unobstructed view of what was taking place beneath the skin. A distinct outline of his associate's body could be seen stretching the white fur on Fomo's neck, visibly shifting from her struggles, which were only helping Tess slide deeper now. His arms tightened around the soft bundle Fomo had given him earlier, tail lashing rapidly as he watched the mouse's throat dip when he gulped again. He could feel his cheeks burning from the sight and hoped neither Fomo nor Tess would notice it.

It wasn't until Tess was sinking up to her chest in Fomo's jaws that she shot her attention back to Frosty. "Don't just stand there! Help!" she exclaimed. But to her surprise, he didn't. Frosty only slumped against the tree, trying to hide his flushed muzzle behind the silvery package.

As large mouse teeth crept up her neck, Tess cursed her coworker's inability to assist, shooting an accusing glare accompanied by bared feline teeth. The expression was the last thing Frosty saw before Tess's features vanished into Fomo's jaws, lips sealing over her white paws. A noisy slurp could be heard as Fomo's tongue lashed along Tess's chin, neck, and feet, eliciting another flurry of angry, panicked struggling that made Fomo's throat and belly abruptly shift.

Fomo's throat dipped one last time with a heavy glrrrrrk that pushed the squirming shapes toward his gut, making a distinct outline of Tess's hips as they settled into his lap. The feline figure continued to slip down and fill out the mouse's belly, white fur pushing out beneath his hoodie and forcing it to bunch up around Fomo's chest as a result. Once the obstruction was clear of his throat, the mouse let out a heavy, relieved sigh and reached a hand up to rub at his sore neck for a moment.

Bwoaaaarp. "Ohhhh. That's better," Fomo murmured, groping at his belly with the other hand as his passenger continued to fuss and thrash about in his lap. "You sure are a feisty kitty, I'll give you that much. But mousie's got 'ya now."

Frosty was openly staring as the mouse reveled in his triumph, watching his smug, gratified expression as he pushed at the cat squirming in his gut while he knelt in the grass. Seeing the shape of Tess's hands and feet pushing, stretching Fomo's white belly, listening to the gurgling churns that resulted from her movements...

He couldn't help thinking back on how it had been for him, when _he_was the one making the mouse's belly swell like that. Imagining how smug Fomo must have looked at (allegedly) devouring his first cat ever. Feeling those hands roaming over his body from the other side of slimy stomach walls, much as Fomo was now doing with Tess.

When Fomo's gaze lifted from his belly, eye contact made the heat in Frosty's cheeks worse. The mouse took in that cute, crimson glow beneath the cheetah's white fur and his smirk widened. "Like what you see, chee?"

Moving onto his knees, Fomo shuffled closer to close the gap between the two before Frosty could think about escaping. He grabbed the cheetah by the hips and pulled him to the ground, swiftly moving into his lap and plopping wide hips down on Frosty's thighs to prevent him from getting free. Fomo's enormous gut pressed against the cheetah's front as he leaned in, keeping him securely pinned against the tree, letting Frosty feel the other cat wiggling against him while the cheetah nervously fidgeted and whimpered.

"Why don't you have a feel, too?" With a squeaky giggle, Fomo peeled the cheetah's hands away from the soft bundle he was clutching like a pillow and directed them down to his belly, which was gurgling noisily. "Give her a good rub, chee. If you do a good job helping mousie digest his lunch, I'll think about _not_eating a cheetah for dessert."

Though her voice was muffled and indistinguishable, the vigorous struggling in Fomo's gut communicated Tess's objection clearly enough. Ears pinned, Frosty nervously gulped at the options he was given. But after a moment, he nodded and flattened his palms against the distinct shapes, rubbing in a small circle and gradually making wider strokes. There was still a layer of padding hugging Fomo's waist, which he himself had contributed to, Frosty realized. And another cat was about to make him even softer.

Fomo closed his eyes and leaned his head back, groaning deeply as the cheetah obediently rubbed his belly down. It felt great kneading his own belly when he was this full, but to have someone else do it for him, especially a cat that had already taken his own trip through the mouse's guts, tickled him in a way he hadn't anticipated.

"Ooooh, yeah, that feels great," Fomo cooed between soft squeaks, arching his back to push his belly into the cheetah's hands and lightly grind it against him. His toes curled, thighs clenching around Frosty's legs when the cheetah squeezed down on his gut in response.

Frosty could hear and feel the mouse's belly coming to life. He knew what his friend was being subjected to inside. And depraved though it was, Frosty dutifully massaged and rolled over the shifting figure with that knowledge in mind. When a pair of hands stretched outward, Frosty lined up with the shapes and pushed them back in, earning a pleased shudder from Fomo.

As the minutes passed, Tess's struggles began to weaken, but she made it clear that she was going to fight to the last breath, intermittently cussing out the mouse for what he'd done. Her muffled noises made Fomo giggle, joining Frosty in rubbing down his belly as another belch reminded him of the enticing flavor of the two-tone cat.

"Mmmf, 'scuse me," Fomo chuckled with a squeak. "She might be the liveliest kitty yet. Quite a temper, too."

"Y-yeah, a bit..." Frosty timidly nodded again, but couldn't think of anything to add. He was too distracted with the mouse's churning middle, which was beginning to soften already. The glrrrrns and burbling inside were becoming steadily wetter-sounding, and Frosty knew what that meant for the mouse's lunch.

Sighing languidly, Fomo draped his arms around the cheetah's shoulders and leaned in, smooshing his belly lightly between them and rocking. It gurgled noisily as a result, accompanied by a soft crackle that sent a shiver up Frosty's back. After the telling noise there was a muffled whimper, and the mouse's belly stopped squirming.

"Mmmmh, there we are," Fomo crooned. "Finally settling in like a good meal. You kitties can squirm and struggle all you want, but mouse gut is gonna digest 'ya in the end."

Frosty gulped quietly, unsure whether that statement was intended more for Tess or himself. He wasn't going to ask for clarification, kneading a bit more firmly instead as the feline shape on Fomo's gut continued to lose definition and round out. It was impressive how efficient the mouse's digestive tract was being, though Frosty had lost track of time and wasn't sure how long he'd been rubbing it.

Eventually, Fomo stretched and let out a contented groan, flexing his gut and eliciting another series of wet crackles from his middle. The feeling made Frosty squirm beneath him, flushing hotly again as his tail lashed in the grass. Grinning, Fomo leaned in until their noses nearly touched, compressing his belly firmly between them. Frosty's ears swiveled back and laid flat as he stared into the mouse's eyes, heart suddenly accelerating as he considered what may follow.

But to his relief, Fomo simply placed a soft kiss on the cheetah's nose and left it at that. "Mmmh, as much as I'd love to stick around and let you keep working a mouse gut, I should get going. You're lucky your friend showed up when she did, chee. Otherwise it would be you in here. But you get off easy, for being a good sport about helping."

Fomo rolled his belly against the cheetah as he spoke, grinning to him and letting that sink in. Gurgling audibly, the mouse licked his lips, enjoying the cheetah's visibly-bashful reaction to his teasing. Before he could add anything further, however, Fomo's head ducked as a wet belch escaped due to the pressure on his gut. Along with the airy, cat-scented burp, a wet mass pushed up the mouse's throat and landed on Frosty's chest with a wet splat.

Frosty's face erupted in a bright blush when he recognized the dark shape sliding down and settling between their bodies. It was Tess's belt, ragged and partially digested, strands of slime clinging to the dark leather. It also happened to be her beacon.

The mouse leaned away and chuckled at his handiwork, scooting his hips out of Frosty's lap and licking his lips clean. "Sorry, chee, just slipped out. You can keep it, though. I've still got what I want."

Unsteadily rising to his feet and acclimating himself to the added weight, Fomo wiggled his hips as he turned, grinning over his shoulder at Frosty. "Feel free to swing by sometime if you want to pick up what's left. Or join her," he added with a wink.

Frosty was too dumbstruck to say anything back, glancing down at the soggy belt in his lap, then watching as the mouse confidently jogged off with a noticeable bounce in his step...