FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

The short, fawn-colored, anthropomorphic, lop-eared rabbit, Xander, is finishing his brunch meal of six Belgian waffles, roughly a fried chicken and a half, and a pair of fully-loaded lattes. The food packs into his newly taut tummy and his body's rapid metabolism practically transubstantiates it to resupply his devastated blood sugar and muscle glycogen after the orgasms that, moments prior, had glazed fairly half the main room of his apartment with jizz. One might imagine that such a ravenous and virile creature must be a paragon of classical masculinity, but Xander is only slightly more muscular than average and stands roughly at five feet tall. From having previously been overweight with no visible musculature, though, he feels slim, light, and athletic. He can summon the worshipped ball of biceps muscle with a flex, even if it isn't a football like a bodybuilder might have.

The food focuses him. He sucks the last of the serrano-infused syrup from his fingers and washes everything down with a heavy gulp of cream-saturated coffee. He's been afraid to stand up while he eats, uncertain of what the new weight in his loins will feel like and whether the tissues of his body can possibly even support it. Part of him knows. In the back of his mind, new awareness spiderwebs through his body and reports certainty that the hundred-seventy-five-pound wolf he just crammed into his balls is now safely tucked away against his left testicle as some sort of totem weighing no more than his Naval orange-sized nuts themselves. The whole pouch pools warmly between his thighs beneath the ten-inch cock that, blessedly, has nearly retreated into his sheath following a morning of rampaging libido.

That same awareness of the adult being he's consumed into his sex blends with new thought processing capabilities. While eating, he's planned how to clean his ruined living room and bedroom, despite never having needed to learn how one removes cum stains from hardwood floors, upholstery, ceiling fans, and electronics. Some, he'll have to look up; others, he'll have to order parts; the rest, he can do with chemical cleaners, spare paint from the landlord, and elbow grease. But what's remarkable is that that's not the focus of his thoughts. That's background noise - problems being solved while his conscious mind works on something else.

Last night, he was consumed by an Assistant named Witness. Assistants are pint-sized, golem-esque, anthropomorphic creatures occupying the merchandising space between pet, smart speaker, and escort. This one had taken a curious interest in Xander over the past several weeks, then sought him out in his office and somehow triggered the rabbit to lose all sense of propriety or inhibition. Xander had worshipped the Assistant's plentiful package with tongue and lips. Pheromones was the obvious answer, but it had taken a long time. Witness must have been testing different compounds and combinations thereof. Or straight-up mood control magic. Whatever happened, Xander woke up in his bed cumming buckets all over himself and with several new, alien appetites that led to consuming a delivery guy whole. Unfortunately, the new processing power could only work with information he already had, so he couldn't guess what Witness had done. Magic has always been... not beyond Xander, but it never held interest. There's a mental space trained magic users were said to go that is not a demesne the rabbit sees as more than academic esoterica.

He hefts his massive nuts in both paws and uses one thumb to stroke the faint outline of the wolf. This magic, though, he can parse, because it's part of him. Most of the wolf's mass went into mind-bending orgasm and was strewn about his home as semen. As the life-giving liquid humor, it made sense, after a fashion, to be that thing a person was reduced to. Xander's body harvested the best tissue from the wolf, though, which suggests there's a magical signature within all living tissue with qualia that can be transferred from person to person. The wolf is a dancer - Xander's tendons feel more pliable. The wolf is hale - Xander's heart feels lighter and stronger. The wolf is fit and full of the virility of youth - Xander's physique is tighter, his shoulders feel fractionally proportionately broader, and he can feel that the slightest indulgent thought will bring that massive cock to full turgidity yet again.

So if he ever lets the wolf go, will the poor thing be aged, enervated, emaciated? Is Xander a predator now? Not just a predator but a... a parasite? A vampire? His morals quarrel with a new sense of self. One troubling thought in particular: he can do these things, which gives him a right to do them. But it makes him functionally a murderer. Thus, the wolf has to be released eventually, and restored, unless Xander is to simply abandon good nature. For now, he can feel that he could release the young man, and how to do so, but he can't parse from his new senses how healthy the reformed prey would be. He shakes his head. First things first.

In an hour, upholstery has been ordered and the entire apartment smells of Citrisolv and fresh paint. In another two hours, the television, bedside lamp, alarm clock, and ceiling fan have been dismantled, cleaned, and restored. Xander walks nude the entire time. Now and then, he strokes his new occupant with a nascent fondness. Something about it feels so... good. A blend of ownership and something parent-adjacent, though having just had sex with the guy, that sensation is a bit off-putting. But... mentorship, perhaps? Responsibility? The sense of simple predatory right has melted into this sort of... authority. His perpetual erection has returned with the attention to his loins, but it's less insistent than this morning, or at least, that insistence can be better managed.

He makes a quick meal of the pound of deli turkey that should have lasted a week, half a loaf of bread, a head of lettuce, a handful of carrots, and more mayo on the sandwich than is conscionable for a normal human. He eats until he feels bloated, then more than bloated, but his metabolism burns it away in an anabolic maelstrom to feed the new muscle fibers plucked from his living meal, the new tornado of processing power in his brain, and stabilize everything brunch was unable to. Again, the food sates and focuses him and gives him the willpower to resist repeatedly stroking himself to climax like half his body wants to. He doesn't know what's happening each time he does, and besides, it feels kind of nice to, for a change, have this constant column of sexuality erect in his lap rather than be struggling to find anything arousing at all.

Until, of course, the same-day delivery of new fabric for his couch arrives some time in the mid afternoon. He hears the approach of feet outside the ground-level door to his apartment and his cock immediately throbs, painful again. He wonders how much he can gain as he estimates the person for their contents instantaneously based on footfalls. There's a knock on the door. He doesn't want to eat this person - but he knows he can, and how easy it would be. He does want more weight in his testicles, to feel that heft and that consumption again. He wants more muscle on his body, more breadth. He's lost around half a foot of height, and can't help but imagine how he'll look when he's back to that height, but corded with muscle, lean, strong.

"Leave... leave it outside. T-thanks," he coughs. He's staring at the door, partially hunched, eyes wide as though he can see through it.

"You sure?" comes a gravelly voice. Deep voice. High testosterone. More energy, more growth potential.

His heel stammers against the floor in place of his voice. "Yeah." His claws bite into his palms. "Yeah. Thanks." The warm, syrupy precum from his ravenous loins slides down his cock and coats his churning nuts. He can feel his cock bounce as each heartbeat pounds through it.

"Alright. Have a good one."

Xander's entire body is tense as he listens to those footsteps retreat. He doesn't move an inch, worried that if he does, it will be to dive out that door and tackle the deliveryman. Precum drools so freely it drips onto the floor.

"I'll just," he whispers, "just go take care of this. Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck." He's already feeling himself up by the time he stumbles into his tub, hunches over himself on his knees, and jacks himself off with both paws. Each can barely fit around his girth. "Aaaahh...!" he whines, and it's mere moments before his nuts tighten up against his groin and he spews wave after wave of spunk to crash against the far wall of the tub. It's a faucet that's been hammered off; a broken tap. He didn't realize how much he's been suppressing until cups of it pour out of him, making his glutes and groin muscles burn as they strive to power out the streams of hot, heady cum. It pools around his knees and ankles, backsplash crashes around both sides of the tub, and he finally catches himself on all fours with a splash after nearly a minute of orgasm.

He feels at himself desperately. Each time he's cum, he's lost inches of height, but gained inches of cock. Will it keep going? Is there some insane singularity his body is approaching? What will happen to the wolf in his nuts? But it feels incredible, and this time he can "listen" to his body burning away unwanted mass with that new sense, that sense of... what is it? Spirit? Body composition? Matter composition? He puts his hands on either side of the tub and roughly estimates his new height at 4'9". The only time he hasn't shrunk from these orgasms has been after his lupine meal, when he grew instead, but all of them expanded his cock: it's now a solid foot of throbbing flesh that drools out the last few spurts of cum, each of which is able to put his past orgasms to shame.

It has to be related to the Assistants. He knows they're all endowed, and that the female ones are said to be capable of impossible sexual feats just as well as the males. He entertains the idea that he's becoming one. Maybe. Maybe his body is approaching some ideal, rather than a singularity. All the Assistants, despite their size, are pinnacles of physicality.

He unplugs the drain and turns on the shower's cold water to wash himself off again. The drain complains with semi-clogged burbles, but blessedly doesn't need to be taken apart and cleaned. He steps out, towels off, and looks down at his sheath. Like a particularly large kiwi, but even more pronounced on a man this size. Fills the hand wonderfully. The cock within threatens to erect again, but Xander stuffs down his arousal stubbornly and finally puts on some athletic shorts to retrieve the delivery box.

Another hour, and his home is as good as new. Better than new. He heads outside to dump the trash from his various projects, then stretches and yawns while he's outdoors. Outdoors, shirtless. Also a new sensation. He's short as hell, but the most recent climax has tightened up his chest and belly once more so he can clearly see his upper row of abs and the outline of his Adonis belt.

A jaguar he knows from the same apartment complex approaches, smiles, waves as though to walk by, then does a double-take.

Uh-oh.

"Xander?" he asks incredulously. He's lanky like most of the species, though they're much sturdier than their cheetah cousins. This one is "only" six-three, and thus Xander's nose doesn't quite reach his sternum. At somewhere in his late twenties, he has the full suite of easy strength arboreal cats seem incapable of losing until well past middle age.

"Heya, Ray." Forcibly casual. Ray's not his favorite person, but then, the Xander of yesterday had one, maybe two best friends, followed rapidly by Everyone Else. Ray is brash. The rabbit isn't sure if it's from confidence or a lack of tact or if one of those flows from the other. Either way, he's generally been too abrasive for Xander to bother spending time on figuring out.

"I'm not gonna beat around the bush - what the hell happened to you?"

"Prank, I think," he lies easily. His honest opinions are sprinkled throughout the deception. "Some haywire commercial spell or another. I'd see a doctor, but I mean." He gestures at his newly lean body with a smirk up at the much taller male. A smirk? He doesn't smirk. Smirking is for people who have something to smirk abou- right. He does, now. He shrugs. "Those things wear off after a while and I thought I'd enjoy it while it lasted."

"I thought transformative stuff was illegal? Or was it impossible... both, right? And anyway what kind of prank makes you short and fit?"

Xander shrugs again. It's all so easy. He doesn't have to deflect. The lies just pour fresh from his mind. It's inventiveness, is what it is. It's rediscovered creativity. "That's what I mean. I think it was supposed to be a shrinking thing. Some of those bypass the law in weird ways, I guess? I feel like I've heard about that." Xander's new wheeling mental state assaults him with details of the jaguar's appearance. Ray is wearing lounge pants and a loose shirt. His fur isn't brushed, but he looks caffeinated by his expression and the sound of his heartbeat. He's slightly frustrated. Maybe thought he'd bring someone home last night and didn't. Irritable. Stressed. "Anyway, all the more reason not to see an authority about it. Headache at minimum, paperwork at worst."

"Eh, I guess so. I saw the kids across the street drawing casting circles all week, and skipping the pleasantries, you're an easy bullying target. Er. Were."

The rabbit chortles. The comment stings, but only barely. He forgets to pay attention to his new instincts and urges for a moment and finds himself saying, "Hey, you and Bullet wanna go on a run? I see you two go by most mornings and I've been jealous, but I think I could finally go at least a mile or something while I'm like this."

The offer of exercise to a person who really likes exercise, especially from someone who really doesn't, can make even a jackass - and Ray is a jackass, to be clear - suddenly light up with good vibes. Ray's eyebrows lift and his face breaks into a grin. "Yeah! Yeah, we slept in today and it got too hot out, so this is perfect. And hey, maybe some of the cardio will stick whenever that spell stuff wears off." He's earnestly hopeful. He turns to go retrieve his brother and Xander's eyes fixate on his ass. Delicious in so many ways. A low growl bubbles up behind the rabbit's teeth. These brothers have always been functionally kind, but condescending. Why not... borrow... a little of what they feel puts them on a pedestal, and get in a good fuck along the way?

Xander shakes his head to snap out of it. "Give me five," he calls after Ray before heading back inside. He hydrates and splashes his face with water. He's never been manipulative. He's never thought of someone solely for their utility as a cum sock. He's been vengeful, sure, he's played out hedonic fantasies in his head, sure, but in any situation wherein a person could be stripped of their personhood, he's always chosen not to... hm. That's not true. Once people irritate him enough at work, he thinks of them as programmable boxes. Work orders go in, results come out. Several of his bosses may as well be religious idols before which he recites litanies, rather than people.

Which makes them meat. Meat and hormones.

No, no, no. This is the stark contrast. This predatory, manipulative hunger is the backdrop on which he can simplify such a moral conundrum. But it's hard. Because he's hungry, and there's someone to eat, four minutes from now.

The run will help. This is why normal people run, anyway, isn't it? Clear one's mind with methodical, endless strides. Help focus on what's right to do, or at minimum, on nothing at all. Despite that, he's thumbing through his phone to hunt down Witness' owner's cell phone number before he realizes it. He should have done this any other time in the day, but he was learning about how to safely dismantle and reassemble electronics. He needs to contact the creature, but he doesn't have time for a conversation. Might not see the critter again until Monday.

He needs to know what's going on, but for right now, he needs to put on something to contain his package. There's a jock strap someone bought him as a gag gift, but that won't cover it; there are his old boxers, but they're way too loose in the hips, now; there are... ah, the compression shorts from a brief stint believing he'd take up squash. Fluorescent white, he bought them too small at the time and that was all the barrier he'd needed to give up the sport entirely. Now, they hug his junk firmly up against his groin so it looks like he's smuggling a fruit basket. He can't help but grin to himself at the sight and the thought, but quickly dismisses it as it makes his balls visibly roll under the fabric. He cinches the athletic shorts as tight as they'll go and prays his newly bulbous bulge isn't as pronounced and noticeable as it seems to him.

Will he even be able to run comfortably like this...? Walking around his apartment, he enjoyed the weight of his massive nuts on his thighs. The form of the sleeping wolf - or totem thereof, whatever he is now - was just a nice texture to feel now and again. But running...? He gives a few jogging steps in place, expecting to wince as they jostle against his legs. Instead, the firm skin of his sack feels like it cushions the blows. He briefly has the wild thought that the tissue there needs a biopsy. Incredibly elastic, incredibly strong, and apparently, able to insulate the sensitive nerves of his genitals from outside impact. Xander shrugs and mutters, "Sure. Why not. At least it's convenient."

Dressed and still giddy with the idea he can venture outside shirtless, he steps back out to meet his new running buddies.

"Barefoot? Raw, dude," Bullet greets him. The panther jaguar, unlike his older brother, is ripped through with musculature and, perhaps unsurprisingly, the more tolerable of the two. He's wearing fire truck red running shorts that go a third the way down his thighs, a mesh backback snug atop his lats, and nothing else. He's no rhino, but he is big and lean and hard. "Cannot fucking believe that's you, Xander. That's illegal as shit."

"Is 'illegal' new slang?"

"Sorta both; fuck the cops. You warmed up?"

I've been more active today than the entire last week. I'm a furnace. "Yeah." His heart is racing. He should have tested this first. The quick exchange with Bullet would have crushed in him the past, but he takes it in stride. What has happened to him?

"Then let's fuckin' go!"

The two brothers take off at an easy pace, first out into the parking lot of the apartment complex, and then quickly down a dirt bike path through a nearby forested area. The neighborhood is part of the infinite suburbia surrounding Downtown, and as such, while it's mostly winding roads and hills tightly packed with residential housing, there are little, natural spaces that have variously interwoven themselves and then been cultivated for human passage by people like the big cats ahead of him.

They start out at a loping jog through the late afternoon, early evening air. It's humid, but not stiflingly so, and warm, but bearable. Xander follows behind, waiting for his heart to give out. A quarter mile of running winded him in the past. Now, he feels light and effortless as his feet and calves and thighs lift him along, stride after stride. He has to take three for every two the others take, but it doesn't bother him.

"You doing alright? No chest pains?" Ray asks over his shoulder.

"If you get chest pains, we gotta stop instantly. No offense, but y'ain't physical. Weren't physical. Heart might explode." Thanks, Bullet.

Xander assesses himself. He's fine. More than being fine, at this pace, he's bored. "I'm great. I can't believe this."

"Hell yeah, man! Live in the moment - I fuckin' love it. Ready to pick it up some?"

The rabbit nods assent, and like cranking the engine on a speedboat, the trio accelerate. Xander feels his legs automatically transition from light jog to light run. His gait, his stride, the force of his feet striking the dirt, shift like changing gears. He's heard people talk about that before, but hasn't felt it in years. In the moment, he feels himself thinking that if all of this ends, if this is a dream or drug trip or simply a temporary mistake Witness made, he's going to learn to run afterwards. Each breath isn't heaving in air; it's just letting the wind in. He knows, knows, that it's exponentially harder when you're heavier, but this, to feel this again... he wants it. Deeply.

The half-pound or heavier testicles bobbling against his thighs with each stride don't exactly suck, either.

Other things deeply desired: the pair of bubble butts bouncing along in front of him. His cock has gotten to the size over the past eighteen hours that only the most prepared dudes would be able to fit him, but as he watches, he wants in. He wants to mount these larger men and hear them moan his name while he floods them with cum. He feels his cock bloat and slide up along one hip eagerly at the daydream, but there's no way it would fit, especially since he has no idea whether either one is even into men. This is going to take some thought. Luckily, as advertised, the running is meditative and the paired pendulous cheeks framed by runners' shorts ahead of him are mesmerizing.

The three eventually pause in a tiny, secluded courtyard with a single circle of concrete as its main feature and a pair of stone benches, all encircled by high hedges. Bullet unloads a miniature backpack full of sports drinks and tosses one to each of them. "So that's a five-K, you fuckin' bunny beast. But first time or hundredth time, gotta have electrolytes," he explains before popping open his bottle and sucking down half of it. "Damn, Xander, how do you feel? Got yourself a little chubbed over there."

Xander startles briefly and looks down. He isn't fully erect, but the semi has parked itself up along his thigh and refused to retreat. He weighs his options and decides it's best to just go full-bore, like with the wolf. "Watching your two bubble butts, can you blame me?" He flashes a jovial grin that's just a hair's breadth distant from predatory. "Five kilometers... I haven't run one since I was sixteen."

Bullet barks a loud laugh while Ray just smirks and snorts. The lighter furred, older brother finishes a swig where he sits on the bench opposite Xander. "What, you wanna fuck us? More like get fucked, short stuff."

"Fair - this wouldn't fit in either of you, anyway."

Bullet laughs again, enjoying the back and forth far more than his brother. "Big words! We've joked a lot that you're secretly packing."

"Well I am now, that's for sure." He manages to sound both faux-beleaguered and proud at once.

"Well, let's see it, then." The panther gestures a come-hither. "I'll do tit for tat."

The air is gently tense. It's a good-natured crassness in the approaching twilight. Even so, it carries weight.

Xander glances at Ray, who rolls his eyes. "Bullet whips his dick out more than his wallet. This is why he got beat up all the way through grade school."

"Yeah, 'cuz all the fellas were jealous." Bullet grins at the rabbit. "You like this sorta thing? I can drag it out for you, make a show of it." He tucks his hand into his waistband against one hip and drags his tongue over his teeth teasingly as he starts inching his shorts down his bare thigh.

Xander gulps unconsciously. This is easier than he thought it would be. He stands up, undoes the tie on his shorts, and drops them around his feet.

"Holy shit." Bullet freezes where he is.

The rabbit tugs down his compression shorts to let his cock flop out and hang down under its own weight despite his sheath. It feels good in the summer air. His ears, though flaccid, are perked for anyone approaching their little alcove of stone and shrubbery. They hear nothing. He looks up at the big cat. "That good enough, or do you want to see it hard, sweet cheeks?" Internally, he shivers. He feels like he's on stage in a play, not interacting with real people. The words are a façade. They're banter to play with Bullet's head. Ray is sidelined entirely right now and even that's on purpose, to nettle him enough to rile him up and keep him interested. It's all just a show.

Well. Dinner and a show.

He steps forward to close the gap between him and Bullet in slow, inevitable paces. Bullet's gaze is riveted. "I mean, I've seen big guys, but damn."

"Ever felt big guys before, though?" He stops with his cock head an inch from the cat's thigh. It bobs and slowly rises.

"Nah, but I'm touching this one. Christ on a pancake." He wraps both huge black cat paws around it and squeezes. Xander trembles slightly and gets up on his toes. He flexes his groin in response, and the cock and his hypercharged hormones take no time flying to full mast.

"Twelve inches," he comments, "ish. And growing, as far as I know."

"Growing?" Ray has come over to look, as well, while his brother keeps exploring the massive cock with his paws.

"Not sure how. Think it has something to do with these." Xander grabs the jaguar's wrist and tugs it down to his nuts.

Ray cups one in one paw, then brings in the other. "Skies almighty," he mutters. "They feel heavy."

Xander's heel thumps the ground as his cock throbs in Bullet's paws. It starts leaking one broad bead of precum at a time. Two huge, handsome men are fondling and admiring his junk. It can't be real. Meanwhile, Bullet's erection is visible against his shorts. To Xander, it seems big despite his own size. He's only been massive for less than a day, and the six and a half inches of panther cock yearning to be set free make him drool. Especially because it will soon be his. He fishes it out with his paws while looking up into Bullet's eyes and begins gently stroking. He casually mentions, "You two have jacked off together before, I take it? Ever double-teamed someone?"

They exchange glances. "Only talked about it... always chicks, though," Ray answers.

"We joked about doing it with guys. But I never thought it'd happen," Bullet continues, "but if it's gonna, this seems like a fuckin' good time." He reaches down and clutches Xander's asscheeks in his paws with a low, big-cat rumble. "That cock's not going in me, that's for damn sure. Dunno if Ray's ever fucked himself with a bat, though."

Xander barks a laugh. "That's fine - be a gentleman and give me a reach-around, at least?" Again, that internal shiver. He's putting on this show outside, but he's about to get fucked by two guys in a public park. It's shaded and quiet, but they could be walked in on at any time. And he hasn't been penetrated in years. At least the brimming background churn of his mind convinced him to briefly clean himself up back at the apartment in anticipation of this.

"Long as you're not a carrier for anything." It's a question in the form of a statement. Safe sex, y'all.

"I am not. You two?" Both shake their heads no. Xander flashes a smile. "Then one of you get on your backs so I can ride you."

Bullet is clearly rapidly warming to the idea, especially as Xander's fingers glide around his cock. He finds a space to sit down and struggles off his shorts. His thigh, dotted through with melanistic whorls, ripple with muscle to the point it makes Xander visibly swallow. Bullet grins up at the rabbit when he sees it. "If I'd known how much you like this, I'd've teased you about it more."

Wordlessly, Xander falls to his knees and crawls over the bigger man's legs to press his nose along quads quads and the line between them and the hamstrings behind them, up to cup one nut in his lips and suck on the salty fur there. He hears Ray mutter above him "That is... hotter than I thought it would be."

"Then get involved," Xander murmurs, but his focus in on the package before him. More of the rabbit himself surfaces and less of his charade of confidence. He bathes the panther with his tongue. Short, rapid licks, following ventral veins up to the tip, side to side as he turns his head to lap the bulge of the front, then up again, to exhale warmly over the head, stuff it with a whine into his maw, and strain to take it in. He salivates generously over it while Bullet grunts and moans.

"Ffffuck... shoulda hooked up with dudes years ago... Goddamn." He strains with his hips to flex his cock and shove it a few inches into the rabbit's yearning maw and along his welcoming tongue. He groans with pleasure, then lets out a big cat snarl as Xander greedily crams the tip of his cock into his throat, gags, but stubbornly refuses to release until he's managed to bob his head twice on it. He comes up with a gasp.

"It's been a while," he coughs out as he holds himself up on his knees, "but I missed it, ahhh..." The smell of musk and the lust are intoxicating. It's a shade different from earlier in the day when he felt overcome by alien instinct. Now, it's more in tune with conscious desires. He walks his knees up to straddle Bullet's hips and presses their cocks together. His dwarfs the panther's in size and when squeezed, drenches it in a flow of warm precum. He casts his gaze to Ray, who has his shorts off and half a hard-on but hasn't approached, and beckons him. "Get that cock over here. I need something in my mouth while I try to stuff this thing in me."

Ray wrinkles his nose at the command, then steps forward to Bullet's side and grabs Xander by the nape to tug his muzzle in against his bare, creamy white groin. His cock is pink in contrast to his melanistic brother's black one and it's longer by an inch.

"Kitty likes it rough?" Xander teases with a smirk. He whimpers politely in response to the cat's claws digging into his nape, but that sensation of absolute control washes through him again. This man doesn't know it, yet, but those calves, those quads, those lean abs, don't belong to him, anymore. They're rabbit food. Xander presses his tongue out along the thick tendon from quad to groin, then bathes Ray's nuts the same way he did for Bullet. He finds himself already envisioning absorbing that malehood and the testosterone within for himself. He hooks one paw around the base of Ray's cock and one around Bullet's now that it's more than lubricated, lifts himself on his knees, plants the head of Bullet's aching member under his shivering spade tail, and lowers himself down while he drives his lips and tongue forward on Ray.

A high whine sings from deep in him when he feels that initial painful stretch to accommodate the man, even more so with the size difference. He settles with just the head stuck half inside him and rocks back and forth while his tongue explores Ray's shaft. He didn't realize how good this could feel. Mostly an inconvenience before, at least until reaching the prostate, but now, with how well he can immerse himself in his senses, a wash of pleasure as he sinks himself another inch down that shaft. Bullet's claws grip his asscheeks and the panther rolls his hips. First hesitant, then hungry as he feels Xander adjust. "Fuuuck..." he groans. "It's so tight..."

Xander winces around his mouthful of cock because it is tight. It's functionally virgin after his drought of sexual activity. But he begins rolling his hips experimentally in time with Bullet, all while continuing to relish the sensation of bringing Ray's member fully erect as the male gradually gives in to being with another male and the sheer physical stimulus. He shudders as he uses the rabbit's nape as an anchor and starts humping his face with longer and longer strokes. "God... you're right, he's good at this..."

Meanwhile, Xander's shaft is dribbling precum out to flow off his nuts and onto Bullet's hips. The pressure inside him makes his already productive prostate squeeze the stuff out even faster. The panther grins suddenly as he notices. "Ray, watch this." Claws deep in Xander's ass and thumbs hooked over his narrow, but muscular thighs, Bullet finds a position and jerks his hips up. The rabbit squeals in surprise and sharp, painful pleasure as the stroke makes his cock spurt precum. "Lookit him go!" He starts bucking in earnest, making it nearly impossible to concentrate on giving head, but Xander doesn't, can't, mind. This is the hottest thing he's ever done. He subtly adjusts as he needs to so the brothers can have their way with him. His paws hang onto Ray's hips to help keep him twisted to the side while the jaguar fucks his lips, then finally pushes into his throat. His thighs spread and knees scuttle fractionally whenever Ray changes angle or tempo to experiment with the position and the new sensation of anal, while precum now just pours out of him.

"Ah, fuck, ah, fuck, yeah!"

"Bullet, shut up, we're in public."

"Fuck you, Ray, I'm gonna... I'm gonna..." He snarls in that sharp, carrying yowl that echoes of ancient rites, crunches his abs to sit up, digs his claws into Xander's back and sinks his teeth into the rabbit's exposed neck in a mating bite. Xander can feel the cock in him pumping cum into his guts. The bigger cat snarls with half a roar and yanks the rabbit's head away from Ray's cock, far more animal than man in this moment. He clutches and hunches over the smaller male possessively to finish out his climax. Xander can't do anything but twitch and whimper into Bullet's shoulder as he edges from the pounding to his insides alone and feels warmth trickle down his neck. Unexpectedly, he likes this guy.

Good thing he'll have him for safekeeping.

Bullet relinquishes the bite after a few long moments and drags his tongue with surprising tenderness along the bright, visible puncture wounds his teeth have left. "Fuck, that was good, just... slrrrp lemme clean this up slrrrp... something to remember it by, yeah?Slrrrp."

"Alright, lovebird, lemme finish in him, too," Ray growls.

Bullet looks up at him out of the corner of his eye defiantly, gives one more long lick to demonstrate his reluctance, then relents. He leans forward to get Xander on his back and dismounts carefully. He mutters, "Fuck, man, that was awesome," with a softer, but still wild expression on his face. Xander's emotions rapidly reshuffle. He tucks away the idea of actually pursuing Bullet for later. For now...

The rabbit rolls over onto his front and crouches on his hands and knees. He flicks his tail up and looks over his shoulder. "Come get it, then, kitten," he jeers up at Ray.

The jaguar licks his lips and drops to his knees. He doesn't waste a second. His broad paws go to the small rabbit's hips, he yanks them up and back to fix the height disparity, then he rears back, positions his tip at the pink, cream-coated entrance, and slides in. Fully lubed, Xander can just moan in animal sexuality and press back against him. This brother isn't any longer, but he's thicker and it feels heavenly.

He growls, "I'm gonna fuck that attitude out of you, rabbit." He hilts in Xander's ass and gives a quick, hard thrust of his hips.

"Better fuckin' get to it," Xander shoots back. He loves it. The shift in dynamic is so easy. He can feel how much Ray wants the rough play, the idea of 'teaching him a lesson,' the superposition of irritation, giddy excitement, and libidinal fervor.

Ray thrusts in inches at a time - not the exploring, rocking humps Bullet had used, but steady, hard, ramming thrusts of his hips. Xander's arms burn as he holds himself against the ground. Jolts of sensation fire from his ass to the tip of his cock, exploding from somewhere inside, as he's rocked back and forth. All the big cats are so! fucking! strong!

"I need to see that thing cum," Bullet breathes off to the side.

"I told you fuckers to give me a reach-around," Xander growls through his teeth.

"Earn it," Ray snarls back near his shoulder.

"Oh I think he fuckin' has," Bullet answers. "More than that." He gets down onto his hands and knees, then slides himself onto his back beneath Xander. "Never done this before, but..."

"I'm sure you're a fast lear-nnnnnnhhhh!" Xander's arms go to jelly and he has to catch himself with his elbows on the panther's abs as those black lips wrap around his cock head. The rough tongue strokes along the top side of the broad, mushrooming head and the odd, but pleasurable sensation makes him tremble. The thrusts from Ray rock his member past Bullet's lips. The cat can only manage the first couple inches, but that's all Xander needs. The chest and abs under his eyes, taut from their exertion, and the spent cock under his gaze, and the thought of taking all that in, have him nearly climaxing already. Bullet's broad paws hold up Xander's flanks when it seems like the smaller male's arms are failing. He's thinking how easy it would be to get used to this when a harder jolt from Ray, signaling the cat is cresting the top of his own orgasmic peak, make Xander's insides clench and heavy balls roll up close to his abdomen, and his climax begins.

Bullet chokes on the finger-thick jet of cum that fires down his throat. He spits out Xander's cock with sounds of shock punctuated with sputtering as the same flow splashes down his chest, coating it. The second one starts whole seconds later and drenches him anew, chest and belly and groin and thighs. The third arcs past his body, just for the latter half of it to again splash down on him, while the ferocious seizing of Xander's muscles around Ray's cock drives him to reach orgasm shortly afterwards. He jams his hips flush with the rabbit's. He lets his whole body drape over Xander's and gathers his nape on the other side in his jaws for a second, twinned mating bite while he growls out hot air and humps his way through the orgasm. Below, Bullet's posture has shifted from shock to thirst. Something in the waves of scent rushing over and past his body has made him need more. He drinks up what he can from that faucet of rabbit gyzym. In the climax, this time, Xander can feel his body's metabolism entire hyperdrive and start breaking down his tissues, discarding the least perfect structures, and transforming them, somehow, into this outpouring of spunk.

He also feels muscles in his cock awaken.

There's prey to be had.

Ray has finished his climax and started pounding again with greed for a second orgasm. Thus, invisible to him, Xander's member bloats to thicker then Bullet's muzzle, then thicker than his head. The rabbit reaches down to grab the loose skin of the cat's neck and stuff his face into the entrance to his cock. Once initiated, peristaltic motions crawl over ears, head, and neck as it stretches bigger, broader, stronger. The panther's bulky, toned shoulders are much more of a barrier than the wolf's shoulders from earlier in the day, and Bullet is less willing, but the cat's struggles eventually bunch those powerful shoulders together as he tries to clutch upward at Xander's chest. The rabbit snags one wrist and pins it down to Bullet's hip. His ravenous cock immediately sucks in what it can and spreads around one side. He plants that hand and does the same to the other wrist, then cries out in ecstasy to feel those massive muscles sucked into him. Shoulders pinned by constricting flesh, Bullet writhes on the ground in protest. His paws scrabble to find purchase in the dirt and rip out grass roots and soil. Gradually, though, his resistance gets bogged down by the pheromones being shunted into his nose despite being buried in rabbit cock. The claws that had dug furrows in the dirt reverse direction. He starts pushing at the ground with feet and hands and arching his hips with his desire to get his nose closer to the source of the heady scent steadily permeating his senses. Xander's cock accepts eagerly, so inches of him slide in at a time to eventually bulge out Xander's sac behind him.

Ray, meanwhile, obliviously humps away. He's going to cum a second time in this rabbit, he's decided. His eyes are closed as he indulges every hedonic, Bacchanalian act he can envision, not realizing how much is being summoned up by the scents around him or that the outline of his brother's muzzle is distending the rabbit sac just beneath the hole he's pounding. His breath is hot on Xander's neck and his hips are relentless.

Xander spares a hand again to tuck Bullet's cock into his. He pants wildly. He thought having the belly of his penis shoved against the ground by the weight of its meal would hurt, but instead it's like textured noise: absolutely detached from the storm of pleasure from consuming his muscled offering. He begins flexing his hips back against Ray's thrusts. Each movement tugs in another inch of powerful thighs, now knees, now calves. He spreads his legs to force Ray to as well so that he can't feel the expanding sac behind them - as though he would, anyway, immersed as he is in his goal. And at last, he achieves it with another wild yowl. Xander snags one of Bullet's feet to cram it the rest of the way into his cock with a husky groan, then switches arms and grabs the other. It goes in, and Bullet is swallowed prey. Xander shudders, but masks his pseudo-orgasmic pleasure within Ray's as the jaguar fires a second load into him with no less vigor than the first.

After he's finished, Xander shrugs hard with one shoulder to roll the big cat off him sideways. Ray lets himself be tossed aside and flops onto his back. The lean, satisfied man is panting and well pleased with himself, with his spent cock draped partway over a thigh. The rabbit isn't even sure why he's still trying to hide his predation from the man. He is an avatar of hunger. He needs both of them. He sits back on his knees with his ass resting partially on the curled-up form of Bullet inside his nuts, reaches over to snag Ray's feet, and stuffs in first one, then the other, shuddering with each intrusion.

"Get in, kitten," he mutters.

Ray blinks open his eyes and looks down at what's happening. He at first doesn't comprehend. "Where's Bullet?" he asks, dumbly.

"He's mine." Flex, swallow. "_Just like you." _Flex, swallow. "But unlike you, I might let him out ever again." The power fantasy finally settles in through Xander like a thunderhead. He doesn't have to let anyone go. The morals whirl in his mind, but he packs them back away. Not now. Right now, he's turning the tables, and it feels good. The muscles of his groin feel weary and his stomach is crying out for food. He yanks hard with those new, swallowing muscles, anyway, and is rewarded with the sight of Ray's bare ass getting dragged towards him over the dirt. "Mine," he growls.

"What the fuck," Ray gasps out. His claws extend inside Xander and the rabbit first has a moment of panic, then feels the claws as tickling strokes against his reinforced insides and lets out a sigh of relief. The character he played for the two cats has vanished now that he no longer needs to perform. No social moors to satisfy, no personalities to play with. Just meat. Squirming, delectable, high quality meat.

He licks his lips. He grips under the big cat's knees with his paws and lunges forward on his knees to claim another foot of his body. His paws climb up Ray's form from thighs exhausted from the extended ravishing of Xander's ass to glutes radiating heat from their workout. His cock dribbles precum to lubricate its meal. The rabbit crawls forward on his knees with each piece of Ray he swallows.

"What the fuck. What the fuck is happening. What are you doing." He breath is shallow. He doesn't have the mercy of the inhibition-damping, suggestibility-granting, aphrodisiac musk his brother did. He braces his arms against the ground to try to scoot away.

Xander doesn't answer. He doesn't have to. He leans back, and his impossibly turgid cock lifts the bigger man up in the air to deny his claws purchase. Ray scrabbles with his feet, but the flesh of Xander's nuts has too much give - there's nothing to push against. With alarming speed, the rabbit swallows down his waist and flanks while he squirms. Ray sinks down to his chest to feel it crawling up him and dragging him down. He's forced to look up at Xander. In those eyes, all he finds is predatory gluttony. Eye-shine in the approaching evening. He swipes at the rabbit with his claws, but Xander's heightened senses predict it, rather than notice it coming, and he snatches Ray's wrists one at a time.

"No."

"Let me go!"

"No."

With a last, long, drawn out push, shove, and swallow, Ray slides into his captor's cock. Before the orifice seals over his eyes, he gets one last good look up at the predator, who feels a satisfied smile crook his lips, and then the light winks out and Ray is sucked down and back into Xander's sack.

The rabbit catches himself on hands and knees one more time. His massive member protrudes out past his nose after having to grow so much to swallow the men. He can feel one enormous form snoozing quietly, while the other thrashes and scrambles for a few minutes. Each panicked movement perversely sends pleasure shooting through Xander's body until they become sluggish and sensual, then finally cease. The moment they do - the moment the predator's body senses its prey has been fully captured and subdued and that sense of finality slams through him like an iron gate clanging shut - that same keening, wordless cry from earlier in the day rises up from his throat, his cock stiffens one degree further, and he begins gushing.

Cum flows out of him like from a kinked garden hose. It soaks the path for fifteen feet in one direction before he even recovers from the roar of tension that has him tearing dirt from the ground with strain. He heaves himself up on his knees, burning from the exertion of the evening, and directs the torso-thick cock straight up so his gyzym showers down around him from five, eight, ten feet in the air. It splatters loudly down around him. His body rapidly processes its double helping and as before, muscles harden and bulge with new mass. He feels his spine stabilize and grow to sustain his frame. This time, with two much more athletic bodies to work with, the transformation is far more visible. Pectorals swell from his chest. Butt and thighs become corded and steely. Abdominals stretch and press outward against taut skin. Shoulders bulge up and back. And all this, while gallons of spunk make curtains of white that coat every hedge and paint every feature of the small courtyard in Xander's essence.

It occurs to him that this is his, now, too. He's made this. He's claimed this. He rides out the last of the climax - the minutes of it - and sits back into a warm puddle. He lifts up his nuts while they and his cock shrink back down. The twin forms of the cat brothers shrivel to the size of beanbag toys, then smaller, until like the wolf, they unconsciously crawl around and cling to his right nut with one facing one way and one the other. Xander's awareness of them is like another heartbeat: quiet, but accessible if he listens. Their forms simplify and firm up into totemic ornaments while Xander's member pauses briefly at its new erect length of fifteen inches before it softens and steadily, slowly, with an air both of exhaustion and reluctance, retreats into his sheath.

The rabbit slumps onto his back, coating himself anew in his spooge. No suggestions from the back of his mind rise up to clean this place. He's absolute famished. His muscles tremor repeatedly with weakness while he looks up at the stars. He feels huge, surely back to 5'6" at least, but he feels a strange, hollow fear that he's gone too far and can't move. For some reason, his body only drains mass from meals had this way; it doesn't feed him. He turns his head to lap his cum from where it's pooled. Not nearly satisfying. He needs food. With a surge of willpower, he rolls to his knees, then powers to his feet. His vision blurs. His nuts and sheath feel like lead under his waist. He gathers the brothers' clothes and stuffs them in Bullet's backpack. He starts tugging on his compression shorts, realizes there's no way they'll fit around his hips without crushing his mango-sized nuts and sheath, and instead just wears the running shorts by themselves. Everything is sopping wet.

He becomes aware of another scent and a whimper. His ears and eyes dart to the source. His weakness becomes a distant voice cheering for the identification of food. A red face vanishes behind the dimly lit hedge. "Come out here," he commands. He can make his voice deeper than before. His old personality is just beginning to surface, but it gets trampled by the sudden call of hunger. The world gets brighter and narrower. He's empty. He's ravenous.

A slim, young fox man steps out. He's completely nude and cum stains his sheath and nuts. "I-I won't say anything, I j-just thought it was hot, I heard everything and had to see, I just..."

"Come here."

The command is felt in the air. The young man stumbles forward as though pulled on a leash. He's taller than Xander, but it doesn't feel that way.

"Closer."

"Yes, sir."

"Your clothes are back there?"

"Yes, sir."

Xander's stomach snarls. He isn't entirely sure what's going to happen, but he's hungry. He curls his fingers towards himself in a beckoning gesture. "In."

"S-sorry?"

"In." He hangs his jaw open and lolls out his tongue. What is happening?

The fox is bewildered. Even more so when he puts in an exploring paw, then another. Xander doesn't move to help. Absolute, unquestionable authority. The young man trembles. He pushes his hands, then wrists, down Xander's throat, which gives them a firm tug and elicits a yip.

Xander's breath is hot and moist. His gaze is impenetrable. He feels so powerful. His will is indomitable. His jaws spread wider, wider to encompass the slim man. Almost casually, he cups the fox's rear end in one paw while the other lazily holds onto a backpack strap, and pushes. The fox shouldn't fit into his maw, but he does. Xander gulps him down in long, patient swallows, all pushed along and deepend by his powerful arm. His tongue luxuriates in the slender chest. It drags over the kid's hips and sheath to taste his output. He relishes the flavor and the sensation when the meal's face presses against his belly and begins curling up in the elastic space. Something's different between this and normal eating, but that's for tomorrow-Xander to figure out. For now, this is better than the enormous meals earlier in the day by magnitudes. This is power. This is authority. This is ownership.

With eyes closed in bliss and a sigh, he pushes the fox's feet behind the jail of his jaws and closes his teeth. He swallows once more to gulp the kid fully into his belly, sighs with content, and looks down. Smaller than he should be in there - like a mid-sized dog. He clenches his abs and the form is first made more stark against them before starting to shrink. Down... down... down... until nothing's visible. Satiation floods his system. He feels hot. So much better than any other meal. And the way the kid twitched as he shrank... delightful. He steps back to where the fox pointed and collects his affects to stuff in alongside Bullet's and Ray's. He wants to keep all these people's things. They're his.

He's not sure if the fox is okay. Part of him calling out desperately from one corner of his mind hopes so. It says they all have families and friends and dreams. It says he doesn't know what he's doing and he's going to hurt and maybe kill someone. But to most of his mind, he now owns them and what they are because he can. They're part of him because that's better than what they were before. Anything other than what they are in this moment is a mercy and a blessing.

Xander jogs home, immune to the other evening joggers staring at his soaked form, the obscene bulge protruding from his waist, and his swollen, amateur bodybuilder physique.

He won't think. He can't think. He feels good. He feels huge.

He collapses seconds after locking his door and passes out on the floor.