FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

"... and that's why if I see your sorry snake oil-peddling ass around here again, or even on the street corner, I'll turn you into a cock sock, and I mean that quite literally, meat slinky."

"Skies above, alright, man. Just trying to expand a bit." The punk weasel anthro salesman lifted both hands, pink paw pads out, in surrender. He had a massive backpack on and all sorts of bottles and tins strapped around his waist, like a modern potion seller. He winked one purple eye up at the larger male threatening him. "But I might still take you up on the cock sock offer. See you around, big guy."

"Not if I see you first, little guy." Arumbi'aji kept his arms crossed and watched the mustelid man slink his way out of the gym. Rumbi, as his friends called him, had just picked up the location a few months ago. It had been "Rocko's Mostly Legal Machines and Heavy Stuff" before getting shut down over some incident with a rugby team, so Rumbi had made his move while the property value was plummeting and managed to buy a bunch of the machines and weights on the cheap as Rocko tucked tail and ran. He'd kept the... truly fabulous murals on the walls, but some just weren't classy. Even at a gym, where everyone was going hot and heavy, there were limits.

"Pardon me, Merl," Rumbi apologized as he returned to his office. It was an expansive corner office that gave him a view of the whole one-story floor plan. In it sat a pudgy, tawny-furred mouse man who was pretending not to have heard the exchange by watching a short, incredibly lean powerhouse of a lop-eared rabbit casually work his way through ten-x sets with enough weight that the bar was bending. Not far off, a strikingly tall sabretooth tiger with a bodybuilder's build was doing curls with barbells that Merl refused to believe said 80 lbs. The rest of the gym was fairly standard, but those two... and then, Merl subconsciously leaned away from Rumbi as he entered, and not without reason.

Call him what you want - dino, saur, Godzilla, king lizard - Rumbi was a devilsaur. His leathery, scaled skin was charcoal gray slashed through with golden-yellow patches on all his limbs and back. His chest, which was currently covered by a cleverly sewn white vest, was a lighter, almost lilac sort of gray. Downward curving spikes made a line from the back of his head to the base of his long, muscular tail. His elongated, reptilian face was honestly largely charming, but one couldn't get away from the massive, spiky teeth that protruded along the few inches of jaw nearest his face, emphasizing the breadth of that lower jaw. His irises were the same gold of the stripes on his skin, though shinier and brighter, and were surrounded by a foggy, pale gray sclera. Even though he stood a fairly unimposing six feet tall, his enormous feet and thighs, heavyset chest, and striking colors made his appearance something even people in an anthro-adjusted world looked twice at on the street. And their gazes tended to linger.

Most would also be unable to avoid seeing the horns rising from his eye ridges, short and swept backwards, or the crown horn set directly between his eyes. Unlike the other yellowy skin where it appeared on his body, this shone as though it were made of metal or polished bone. It was clearly kept in good condition not just as a mark of hygiene, but to be a centerpiece during a conversation. Something to keep the other person's eyes from trying to retreat from his face, if he got angry.

But right now, he was not. The problem had been dealt with. He tucked the protection money he'd strong-armed out of the weasel into his vest pocket, sat down in a chair with his long tail wrapped around its legs, and addressed the mouse man. "You were saying?"

"Ah, yes. I'm getting married."

"Congratulations."

"And... well, my bride is Indian."

"Hm? Oh."

"You're familiar?"

"Some of those weddings are intense."

"I'm excited, but, heh, I'm..." The guy, who couldn't have topped 5'6", was every sign of a man who'd never picked up a sport in school. Pudge in the belly, a saggy chest even without being over-fat, and thin arms and shoulders. Sure, a handsome face and apparently enough redeeming qualities to get his fiancée's approval, and nothing wrong with that, but he was the opposite of an athlete.

"You're gonna be shirtless for about a week, yeah."

He scratched the back of his head and smiled sheepishly. "Yeah. I'm not gonna, y'know, look like you, or that rabbit out there, but I'd like to at least tone up a little?" He gestured at the biceps Rumbi wielded, which were easily comparable to footballs.

"Oh, Xander? Y'know he's a computer nerd? Wouldn't peg him for it, but he's good inspiration for someone like you. These things can be done, and that's something I love to see. How long're we talking? Couple months, next year?"

"Uh." The guy flushed even through his fur, and in a quiet, embarrassed voice, answered, "A month?"

Rumbi paused for a beat. "A month?"

"Y-yeah, I mean, I should have - I don't want to waste your time, sorry." He was already starting to back up out of his chair, but Rumbi leaned forward onto his desk with a smile.

"A month is plenty of time, dude. How big do you wanna be?"

"Wh-what?"

"Hey. A month following a diet plan, working out hard but careful, you can get a lot farther along than you'd think." He didn't like the idea of "potential" clients. "Let's work something out; I won't let you leave without a contract. We want to make your girl happy."

"Yeah. Yeah." The mouse had a conversation with himself in his brain, though his gaze wasn't really able to leave that crown horn on Rumbi's head. Finally, he furrowed his brow and settled himself in his chair. "Yeah. I can do that."

"It's what you're willing to give up." His eyes shone as the mood of the room changed. In Rumbi's mind, hunger stirred.

"Like, what? Beer?"

"That's a start." The growing sensation of desire liked that, but it was nothing. More irritating than anything - it was a pickle to the hunger, rather than anything satisfying. What Rumbi wanted was for the mouse to say he'd never eat again. He always had to reason with himself when this happened. If you ask someone to give up too much, well, then you can't keep getting more from them. And that's no good. No good at all.

But he wanted it. The crown horn wanted it. An insatiable thing, it was a cursed object that had given Rumbi the ability to be as big as he was, at the price of a gnawing hunger that never really left. It fed on what others sacrificed. And while some things could satisfy it for a time, it never really went away.

Over the next half-hour and change, the two worked out a detailed diet and exercise plan. Nothing unattainable, though it would be a strain. No alcohol. No sweets. Cut down on fruit by more than half, bump up the protein intake with nuts and cheese. And give up an hour of TV each day for exercise. "A whole hour?"

"Yeah. These aren't hour-long workouts, but you need to warm up and cool down from them. This kind of thing takes sacrifice."

"Well. Yeah. Yeah, and she's worth it. And I'll still have time for model painting."

"For what?" Rumbi's head cocked.

"I make models and paint them. All sort of things. Trains, helicopters, battleships. It's fun; it's very Zen."

Rumbi leaned back in his chair with a little bit of a smile and with his fingers laying on the service contract he'd laid out while they were discussing fees. "If you follow all this to the letter, to the minute, you'll look pretty okay."

"Well, like I said, I don't need to be an athlete; I just want to look nice."

His voice took on a hint of a cruel edge. "But you're not going to. I know that. You know that. And you'll smile shyly at your bride when you notice her looking at that paunch in front of her brothers and uncles, and you won't ever have that day back again."

The mouse stammered at the change in tone. "Wh-why would you say that? That's presumptive, and very mean."

"To tell the truth, fewer people will give a shit than you think. But you'll care. You'll remember."

"Look, I don't know what you're trying to do, but you are this close to losing a client."

Suddenly, Rumbi leaned forward over the desk. He seemed bigger than before. The vest on his chest strained, unable to contain him. The sclera of his eyes darkened to midnight black. The mouse let out a yelp. He felt like those enormous jaws were suddenly many times larger than his head. And Rumbi was still smiling. In a throaty, low voice, he said, "I can make you look like you wouldn't believe, Merl. You'll still have to work for it. You'll sweat and have hunger pangs. But if you're really willing to give up some important things for this woman, it will be so many more times than worth it to you."

Merl was intrigued, past the haze of fear. "What... do you mean? Is it magic stuff? I-I try not to do anything with that, not since that treatise from a couple years ago." (AN: the Disagreements in the Deep were an international treaty heavily restricting and making impossible many forms of magic! see my other stories to hear more about them.)

"Yeah, it's magic stuff. The stuff they warn you about in school. But you're a grown-ass man, Merl." His eyes glowed as they looked on Merl like he was a morsel.

"... Okay. Look... What am I getting into?"

"All that time is mine. The hours on model work? Those models are mine."

"But some are gifts for-"

"Come up with something else. They're mine," he snarled.

"O-okay. Okay, fine, yeah."

At the agreement, the dinosaur's body pulsed and throbbed bigger all over. A button on the vest popped. "Can you do murals?"

"I-I've done some for a few preschools, yeah."

"Fix the side wall of this gym." He snorted and briefly, the sense of predation left the room. "I don't mind a little homoeroticism but bulges like that make this place look unprofessional."

"I... after hours?"

"Just get it done."

Merl took a deep breath. Again, his gaze was fixated on the horn, but except for that, he seemed to just be steadying himself. "Yeah. Okay."

Rumbi's body pulsed again. Veins throbbed on his bare arms. Two more buttons popped off the vest and flew across the room. "Good. Sign, and let me show you what you'll look like." He pressed a button and opaque shades descended across every outer and inner window in the office, leaving the two of them lit just by fluorescence.

"Swear to god, Merl, if you get yourself eaten like a stupid field mouse..." Merl muttered to himself while he scribbled away at the various lines on the document.

"Clothes off. Don't be proud; I've seen thousands of bodies." The authority in the voice was irrefutable.

Merl was in the grip of his own desires. He wanted to look amazing for his bride, for her family. And, he'd secretly been fantasizing about how it would feel to... to actually be huge. It hadn't really been one for him in the past, but with the possibility in front of him... to be able to do things like carry her to bed, or even just to her car, or... or to pin her against the wall... He stripped.

The sacrifice of humility made Rumbi swell one more time, and the vest ripped thoroughly down the front. His barrel chest expanded as though he were taking a deep breath and not stopping. Fully seven feet tall, now, he towered over his client. And then, he leaned over the little guy and tapped that cursed metal - or was it bone? - to Merl's forehead. The mouse squeaked as power flowed into him like a warm waterfall touching a live wire. His shapeless belly sucked into his torso and began to crease in seconds. Weight shifted upwards into his pecs, which then swelled outwards. His shoulders expanded. He looked over himself. He... he looked good. He looked like... a swimmer, or a capoerista. He was cut with muscle. Lean and corded, but not massive like Rumbi by any means.

"This is what's on that contract you just signed, but with me, it can be more than muscle. You could be taller." The mouse felt himself rise up and the floor push away from him for a whole inch. "It can be subtle. But if you like, it can be unavoidable." Merl's thighs throbbed almost painfully and swelled out, the modest muscles of moments ago going taut like balloons being inflated, but they were hard. They were strong. "I've made mortals into gods." Merl yelped again when the power surged into his loins. His nuts, already hefty from his lineage, roiled with sudden libido and puffed out, while his pink cock rose up out of his sheath and became erect, then more erect, and then more, as it swelled by inches.

"F-f-fuck, you can do that?"

"This is a taste, Merl."

The mouse's body clenched as he tested out his new physique. He shuddered with sexual fervor. He was dripping; he needed this feeling; he- "No. No, no no. Only what we talked about. Only that." He shook his head.

"Your loss." The magic stopped and in an instant, Merl was back to his old self, though his cock kept throbbing with his adrenaline-fueled heartbeat. Slowly, as if in a dream, he started putting his clothes back on. "But that first vision? That's what will happen if you stick to the contract. If you don't?" The dinosaur shrugged casually. "I will take those hours from you in my own way. This isn't a contract that gets broken, Merl."

"Y-yes, s... yes. I understand."

"Good!" With the deal clenched, Rumbi adjusted back down to his usual size. He enjoyed indulging himself while he ate and enjoyed seeing how others responded - he'd inflated himself far more than the mouse's puny promises of payment had truly warranted - but it helped to be at least slightly approachable as a public-facing figure. "Pleasure meeting you, Merl. I'll see you around."

"Yeah." Merl gulped and adjusted his clothes a bit. He looked down at them, disappointed at the way they hung on him. He clenched a fist and his gaze softened in thought for a bit. His posture was firm and tense, but his brow was clear. He was determined. "Yes. Thank you, Arumbi'Aji. I'll do this."

"... a second mural, and we can give you a really nice ass, too."

Merl's rounded ears went bright pink. He looked at his butt. "... Yes?"

"Initial here."

The mouse scribbled hastily. "Thanks again, Arumbi'Aji."

"Please, please, Merl. It's Rumbi. Have a good evening."

Rumbi leaned back as the mouse left his office. His stomach growled and his wide smile remained as he watched the little guy go, noting an experimental sway to his hips with relish. It was nice, when his work was both fulfilling and filling. He plucked at his vest. Eh. Needed to hit up a tailor again; it was so hard getting clothes that fit him.

---

The dietician - because side gig notwithstanding, that's what Rumbi called himself - wished he could whistle as he worked. The cleaning staff had finished up for the evening, and he always made sure he was last to leave, so he was doing final checks and making sure everything was locked. In the future, this place would be a 24-hour gym. He'd already had a few clients who seemed like good shoe-ins as employees. It was always odd, starting up from "the bottom" again, whenever he did.

Though it seemed like a start-up, Rumbi had done this time and time again. He'd go to a location, open up shop - dietician, personal trainer, physical therapist, what-have-you - work his literal magic and his charismatic charm until he owned some part of the city entirely, and then move on. It was a compromise with himself, just like not swallowing Merl whole earlier had been. If he stayed in one place too long, he knew he'd try to establish an empire there, and he'd heard about what happened to the last idiot who'd tried that - it had gotten the Disagreements put into place and stunted magical technology for years. Several of the clauses were still in place worldwide. For the first couple years, it had stunted Rumbi's continued growth considerably, but as he'd learned from a few surprising sources, the wording had accidentally left in a few loopholes. Anyway, that's backstory.

"Hey boss."

Rumbi startled slightly at the sudden voice and turned, ready to fight. As soon as he had, he felt himself pressed up against the door. He looked up into feline eyes. "Hey, Dart. Forget your keys?"

"Nah." The huge, sabretooth tiger was grinning down at Rumbi from two feet of height superiority. He ran his thumb up from the great lizard's waist, between the pecs made accessible through his torn vest, and up to his neck, while he licked his lips and dragged his tongue over his long teeth. "Forgot a snack."

Rumbi's eyes narrowed slightly in confusion. "I don't remember giving you permission to put on that much weight, Dart," he said dangerously.

"I don't need your fuckin' permission, boss."

"You swore you'd be satisfied with a taste. You took all of someone, didn't you?"

"And it feels incredible."

Rumbi rolled his eyes. This stupid cat. He'd come to Rumbi's gym just when it had opened up asking for help getting huge. He had already been big - 6'3" and 260 and lean as hell - but he kept saying he wanted to get bigger. And Rumbi had told him. Much bigger, and it would attract suspicion. But he'd said he was willing to do some stupid shit, and Rumbi had been hungry, and an entire bank account and mortgage later, Dart had been on his way up - to 6'4", 6'6", 6'8", which was at the peak of what would get the magic cops knocking on Rumbi's door. But then he'd come back.

He'd wanted more. Rumbi had explained: he had to give up some of his own power, his own size, to feed stuff like this. It wasn't some infinite well. Yeah, the sacrifices of life savings and decades of crippling debt had gotten him to risk his business, but it would take more than Dart could earn in a lifetime to get him any bigger. And so, Dart had made a proposition. He'd heard about the old warlocks, before the Disagreements, for sure, but well before that. People who consumed others to gain their powers. Those sorts of abilities had been buried deep for centuries and centuries. It was the kind of thing that got whispered about. It was horrid, occult, bloody magic. It wasn't supposed to exist anymore.

Much like what Rumbi did. But since he didn't make a scene and no one turned up missing - for long, anyway - he'd managed to keep cops off his back. And Dart, jackass though he was, had put two and two together and gotten vore. He'd begged Rumbi to make him able to do that. On his knees, begged. Sacrificed shame, personal pride, all sorts of powerful, delectable things that Rumbi had dined on delightedly. So he'd said sure - at a price. Dart would always have to give the person up again. He'd always have to feel the roaring hunger as he let someone go.

And he'd signed over a family inheritance he'd hidden from Rumbi on the first time around. And his car. Rumbi had pushed for everything when he'd heard the desperate hunger in Dart, and the stupid cat had made a wreckage of his life, but he'd made his body a shrine to power. In a short time, he'd crested seven feet. Rumbi had warned him he needed to slow down, warned him he needed to start hiding his size, and now this had happened.

"Fucking hell, Dart. Is anything left of him? There's gonna be so much fucking paperwork if you killed someone."

"Hell if I know - he's been in there all weekend. I meant to let him out, but..." He rolled his shoulders, enjoying the movements of his enormous body. The bulge in his shorts, which pressed insistently against the middle of Rumbi's chest, throbbed tangibly as he thought about it. "I hunted down his brothers, too. Cats eat rats, you know." He lowered his predatory smile steadily. The two ancient species stared off at one another. "Lizards, too."

Rats? Rumbi knew a literal gym rat who'd made himself a regular. Nothing spooky - he was an all-natural, squat dude built by now like an ox. Dart had preyed on that? What a goddamn waste of will. And now the sabretooth's maw was drifting steadily open. Dart's breath washed over Rumbi's face. His sandpapery tongue dragged over his leathery skin while Dart's cock pressed hard against his abs. The cat was going to eat him.

The night was quiet. It was a little-used piece of highway. A few crickets, some frogs. A rush of breeze, some weeds flickering in front of ground lights. Arumbi'Aji looked past the hungry muzzle in front of him and at his surroundings.

Thank the skies they were alone.

In a quick motion, he snatched Dart's left fang and yanked down. "You idiot." He had enough problems with that stupid weasel peddling stimulants at his gym. He'd wanted to get that anger out all day. "You could've just been huge. You could've been the biggest dude walking around in a decade. Famous. World fucking famous." Arumbi'Aji was a titan. The concrete under him cracked before he'd even visibly grown. The vest tore off like it was made of string. His gym shorts snapped at the waistband a second later. Thighs, already like tree trunks on his wide-built frame, became better suited to holding up bridges. His chest rippled as it expanded and his pectorals swelled multiple times over. Layers on layers of abdominals in beautifully lined reptilian architecture first creased into sight, then swelled outwards to make his abdomen a vast panorama of musculature.

He stepped forward so his tail wouldn't destroy the front of his building. It elongated like the tip of it was trying to run away, growing at a faster rate even than the rest of his body. It crushed shrubbery that had dotted the entrance. The tip wrapped around the base of a light pole and in his ravenous glee and revelry in his own power, the tail yanked out the light with a shriek of metal, darkening the place further. He grew up, and up, and up, until he was holding Dart by that same fang with the cat's feet dangling three feet off the ground.

"Pray," he rumbled. His voice shook the air. His black and gold eyes shimmered in the yellow light of the parking lot. "Pray, and submit everything to me." It was calm. It was the only thing Dart could hear. The cat's eyes were wild.

Arumbi'Aji reached down his other massive hand to feel at himself. He hadn't thoroughly enjoyed an evening with prey in ages. Everything had become so cordial, so business-like, so nice. But these people were toys. They were meat. Meat that made fun sounds. His cock answered readily to his hand's summons.

"What do you..." Dart strained to talk past the sharp, deep pain on his jaw. "Wha... d'you want..."

"You've been a bad investment, Dart. You've treated my gifts like toys. You took advantage of one of my clients. And you thought you'd turn it on me. So now? No pride. No ego at all. Debase yourself. Become nothing. Become a tool."

Dart struggled to look down. He caught a glimpse of something that made him jump his legs up and pucker up in sheer reflex. The dinosaur rumbled in pleasure and idly ripped off Dart's clothes. "P-please... anyfing... any-th-ththing..."

"How delightful. I've been needing a new cock ring." The crown horn glowed, and Dart felt his body... change. His fur didn't feel right. His teeth didn't feel right. He squirmed, and realized he was elongating from where he hung.

At this point, Arumbi'Aji stood at a modest twelve feet. The cock that rose up between his pectorals was a third as broad as his body. He flexed once, and coated half of Dart's body in precum. The organ thumped against his chest and made the dangling cat swing from the movement. Another flex, and he was soaked. There was nothing left to say. The giant stretched his new toy's legs over his cock and pushed. The newly flexible Dart yowled in pain, but he fit the enormous member while Rumbi let loose a sound of pleasure that set the trees trembling.

"Yes..." He pulled on Dart's tail and the cat slid down. The shape of his cock rapidly rose up in Dart's belly, then chest, then neck, as his entire body was given over the dinosaur's pleasure. "All of you. All of you, kitten..." He wrapped both arms around his toy cat's torso and stroked himself through the man, using him as a sleeve. He was warm. He was tight. The greater predator pleasured himself for a few moments, then pulled down farther again, until Dart's jaws spread around the dino cock inside him and yielded like hard elastic, so that he was penetrated from end to end.

And then Armubi'Aji set to the monumental task of pleasing himself. He tugged the living fleshlight Dart had become by feet at a time, rocking his hips in time with his hands. He took it slow, luxurious. Eventually, he climbed his way on top of the one-story building, which creaked under his bulk, and lay down on his back. Pre fountained from him, often coming up through Dart's throat and pouring out of his maw onto his chest and Rumbi's alike. It went on for longer than Dart could comprehend. Endless waves of being thrust through and used by this monster.

"You just don't understand," he murmured through his own massive groans of pleasure. "I would stomp out this city, if you stupid mortals didn't taste so good. I could sit on mountains like thrones." His whole body rolled, muscles that could casually fling draft horses squeezing his cock up through Dart's throat and back down into his hot, pliable torso again. "So I'll take... what I can... here..." He ground his teeth together, then with a wild, triumphant, grinding roar and eyes glowing with delight, snapped his jaws down over Dart's head, and came. Cum erupted directly out of the sabretooth's maw and into its owner. He roared over, and over, and over again as gallons on gallons of cum pulsed into his greedy maw and into the insatiable gullet below. After minutes of this, he pulled his maw off and with a few quick strokes, rapidly reignited the orgasm to send his spunk flying in an unceasing rain behind the gym and into the nearby tree line.

Dart was limp, given over entirely to his master. He hadn't had a choice. And he wouldn't have choices at all, anymore. Not really. Not for a long, long time. Possibly ever. Casually, when the orgasm had died down, Arumbi'Aji again opened his maw and this time, swallowed the eight-foot tall cat whole. There was little ceremony. One moment, the drenched, used tiger was about to draw his first breath in an hour. The next, the upper half of his body was engulfed in his new god's maw. The dino's tongue rolled out to wrap around his meal's waist and guide it inward, before in another gulp, Dart was gone from the world.

Arumbi'Aji let out a long, pleased sigh and let one hand rest on his belly. He grew. Growing, feeding, was what he did, and he loved it. The tiger didn't make a bulge, but he could feel his prey in there. Like he should be. Like everyone should be. Everyone here... if the dinosaur could have his way, one day...

--

"Hey, Rumbi."

"Hey, Merl; bright and early!"

"Heh, yes, sir. I like the new ring. Is that tiger's eye?"

"Yeah. Ready to get started? Stretching first, where the rat is."

"F-f... he's huge. That's a rat?"

"Real tasty guy, yeah."

"What?"

"Hm?"