FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

Tommy ran on the treadmill, the mouse's long legs pumping easily as the belt sped under his joggers. The row of TVs above him, cooking shows, sports, news, soap operas, ignored for something Tommy found much more interesting. Across from him, two rows of machines up, a beefy black rat was doing chest flys on a cable machine. Tommy watched the shirtless rat's chest strain as he brought the handles together in front of him, the other rodent's eyes fixed somewhere in the middle distance. He was focused, but then, so was Tommy.

The little grey mouse was the antithesis of the large black rat. The rat was beefy around his middle, clearly he liked to eat as much as he liked to work out. His chest was toned, his arms corded with muscle that flexed under the short cropped hair. His legs were just as toned, thighs like tree trunks, calves straining as the rat balanced against the torque of the machine. He was wearing a pair of blue athletic shorts, but they might as well have been a used dryer sheet draped over a road cone for all the 'modesty' they preserved.

The black rat was so focused he hadn't noticed his shorts were sliding down his hips. In the mirror behind him, Tommy could see the rat was wearing a jockstrap under his shorts, his entire beefy ass was hanging out over the waistband. What was holding the shorts up, however, was the immense bulge in the front of those shorts. Like a wet towel just barely hung over a hook, those silky shorts were caught on the heft in the pouch of that jock. It didn't hide it as much as accentuate the rat's manhood, coating the curve of his heavy cock, and the double bulge of his enormous rodent pride beneath in blue synthetic fibers, like shiny aquamarine fondant over a lewd wedding cake.

Every time the rat pulled the cables, those shorts jiggled with the bounce in that pouch. They threatened to drop entirely every time he finished a set, but gamely hung onto that pouch with nothing but inanimate determination. Tommy watched a bead of sweat work its way down from between the rat's pecs, over the swell of his thick, weighty gut, down to the waistband of those shorts. It hit the fabric, turning the blue weave a darker shade. The weight of that drop of sweat was the straw that broke the camel's back. Tommy goggled as those shorts dropped, flapping gracefully down the rat's tree trunk thighs to catch on his knees.

The rat's jockstrap was red, the bulge in the front outlined like a valentine's day chocolate box in crimson spandex. Tommy could see the broad vertical column of the shrouded cock, crossed by the horizontal bulge of his cockhead's crown against the weave. Those fat, double-swells were so well accentuated in the shorts, because in the jock, they bulged from the sides like an over-eager hamster's cheeks. Like someone had coated a pair of mangoes in black velvet, the rat's cods hung precariously from the legs of his jockstrap like twin boulders perched to start an avalanche. Tommy couldn't tear his eyes away, and his reverie was only broken by the rat casually tugging his shorts up. Even the way he shrouded his near-nudity was casual and uncaring, as though he thought he should have been free to flaunt his masculine superiority around the gym however he wanted.

His set finished, the large rodent let the cables slip back into place and stretched. He was big, even by non-rat standards, and much larger than Tommy. The slender, small mouse watched the larger rodent flex and bend, the shorts slipping south once more as he did. The rat's glossy black fur glistened with sweat in the lights, highlighted with patches of brown around his chest and crotch. The shroud of blue fabric did nothing to hide the sway and jostle of that bulge. Not even the jockstrap could keep that meat contained entirely. Those fat nuts strained against the pouch like a dog trying to slip its leash, eager to loll and flop and swing loose and weighty in their natural position. Tommy couldn't tear his eyes away. The mouse stared. He stared and gaped, and almost tripped. He caught himself, just in time, as the rat decided it was time to hit the showers.

Tommy watched his prize bounce by, less discreetly than he hoped he was being. The rat didn't seem to notice, and he passed Tommy while thumbing his phone. Tommy, being the attentive audience he was, noted that the rat was scrolling a hookup app. Clearly the rodent beast was horny and looking for some tail. Knowing that, Tommy found his feet stepping off the treadmill as though they had a life of their own. It would be only too easy.

After a brief search and a stop by his own locker, Tommy found the rat. The bigger rodent was slipping into one of the private saunas, the frosted glass door juuuust closing as Tommy rounded the corner. The mouse gave the big rat a few moments to get nice and comfortable, before he pulled that glass door open and stepped inside.

The moist, humid heat smelled of rat. It was comfortably dim within the sauna, the wood paneled seats empty except for the rodent shaped shadow sitting directly across from the door. No towel covered his lap. No shower had rinsed a drop of sweat from that glossy black fur.

"Just keep it down," the rat rumbled, completely unsurprised by the intrusion, it seemed. "Last time I did this, the bitch couldn't keep his mouth shut. Got suspended for two weeks."

"Oh don't worry," Tommy replied, smiling lasciviously, "you'll forget I was ever here at all. I promise."

Tommy allowed himself to indulge. For a moment, he stood and just openly, hungrily, admired his prize before him. The rat sat with his legs spread wide, manspreading as they called it now. Between his legs, bared and naked, those swollen, beefy balls dangled slack. The heat took every bit of tension from that sac. Softened it. Stretched it. Turned it to malleable putty over those fat, ovoid cods within. It was so buttery soft and loose that Tommy could see the taut cords through the shrouding scrote, the weight of those fat orbs showing in how tensely his cables strained to hold them to his crotch. Nestled between those rigid cords, the rat's thick brown dick slotted against his sac into the divot nature had made for it there. It was big and heavy, a proud cudgel to match the thrumming kegs that powered it. The rodent's pride and joy.

"Well?" the rat goaded, flicking an ear irritably. "You just gonna stare or are you gonna drain my sack?"

Tommy didn't answer. He just strolled casually over to the big, dominant rat and knelt before him. He was a good little mouse. He reassured the larger rodent with a long, luxuriating lick along the curve of his fat shaft. Tommy scoured the sweat from that sleeping prick, his small, hot tongue quickly getting a throb pulsing along that dick. It twitched, bounce-bounce, and swelled. Tommy meanwhile, filled his paws with his prize. The weight of that slung pouch was erotic. Tommy's small, sensitive paws were filled as soon as he hefted them, feeling those smooth, solid orbs within slide against the walls of his sac, caught between Tommy's fingers like hulking nuggets of precious gold in a sieve. His paws massaged, Tommy rolling those hefty nuts around in his palms with his small fingers. That got a grunt from their owner, and that prick jumped. It swelled. Thickened. Bulged. Tommy nuzzled it, running his tongue under its head, along that sensitive bridge of skin and nerves that fed its underbelly. It hardened, almost too fat to fit the mouse's muzzle. Almost.

The smaller rodent's bobbing, sucking, slurping, it was all autopilot. His attention was on his paws, on the huge swaying set of rat cods that he was manipulating between them. His small fingers explored, circling every tubule and curve of those nuts, getting to know their every vein and cord as intimately as he knew his own. As he handled them, coaxed them, that sac relaxed even more. Somehow, as though responding to the worshipping touch, the rat's big balls gave themselves over even more to Tommy's fondling. Even with his mouth and throat full of sweaty rat cock, Tommy moaned happily. To the big black rat, it seemed a sluttish, eager groan of lust around his prick. It was anything but, but the rat didn't need to know that.

Tommy started to play. As the rat enjoyed his blowjob, the small mouse decided to see how far he could make those balls stretch. He collared them around their neck with both paws, the sac caught between his palms, and he slid his grip south until his hands were nestled against the tops of those fat testicles. The warm, weighty kegs practically vibrated under Tommy's touch, as the mouse began to pull on them. It was a slow, inexorable stretch, like working out a tight calf-muscle or tired hamstring. The nuts resisted at first, their tense cords straining, trying to restrain themselves against the downward tug. For a few heartbeats, there was equilibrium, an evenly matched tug of war between mouse and meat. Then, gradually, slowly, Tommy gained a centimeter. Two. An inch. He slurped messily on rat cock, and he pulled the rodent's cods away from his crotch more and more by the second.

"Aww fuuuuuuuck...." the rodent groaned. His crotch was beset by sensations he hadn't experienced before. None of them unpleasant, his head sinking back onto the seat above him. Good boy, Tommy thought. Lay there and give it up.

The mouse grinned around the rat's cock. Glancing down, he watched his own paws manipulate those nuts, stretch them, until he was able to playfully tuck them under the waistband of his own shorts. He felt those hot, heavy balls cuddle up to his own rigid prick, wrapped around it like twin pillows, as he sank the heavy black orbs into his briefs. The rat's ballsack was so stretched it was like a pillowy, doughy rope about as thick as Tommy's wrists combined. He saw how his shorts bulged, how those big fat nuts wanted to loll out the legs of his briefs just as readily as they had the rat's jockstrap. It was like he was toting cannonballs in his shorts.

Tommy was brought back to reality by a spatter of tangy precum hitting the back of his throat. The rat was all tense around him, apparently in his distracted reverie, Tommy had been edging him. The mouse smirked. It was past time. He reached into his pocket, drawing out a cheese wire. A pair of wooden handles, connected by a long, sturdy steel wire, designed for slicing through wheels of hard cheese, the tool was perfect for what Tommy had planned. Like an assassin garroting his prey, Tommy looped the wire around the stretched neck of the rat's scrotum, noosing those twin cords with thin, merciless steel.

Tommy felt a solid throb along the rat's dick, and he knew the big rodent was about to pop his cork. Smoothly, he pulled his mouth from that heavy dick, letting it spring wet and tense from his lips. It smacked the rat's gut, twitching, angry that its warm throat had disappeared. Tommy slowly pulled the handles of the cheese wire taut. The rat's cockhead bulged, his shaft hard as steel, piping ready to pump seed. His ballsack might as well have been play-doh, for all the resistance the soft, slack flesh and tight, taut cords offered the steel wire. A gentle squish, a tiny snickt, and Tommy's briefs were that much heavier and the rat was castrated. No fanfare, no begging, no nothing. The rat's balls were off, and he was cumming all the same. Tommy chuckled, watching that dick squirt incidentally into the air, big glistening ropes of cum. He supposed it should have been impressive. Maybe it would have been to someone else. But to Tommy, that big pumping masculine mess was just...incidental. He stood while the rat was still cumming, still piping his baby batter into the air like a mindless beast, raining white all over himself. All that hung under that squirting dick was a scrap of loose, pointless scrotum. All the weight, all the heft, all the MEAT was in Tommy's briefs.

The mouse grinned, rubbing his paws over his shorts. He could feel those fat orbs within, thick and round and warm. They glided over his own package, making his shorts tent upward obscenely with their girth. He waggled it at the rat, but the rat was too busy brainlessly orgasming to notice. Such a mess. Tommy tsked as he turned to leave. The rat hadn't realized those balls were never his. He was just keeping them fresh for Tommy all along. They looked better in his briefs anyway...

The End...?