Tell Me
I was hurrying towards the door, eager to put the day's work behind me, when I heard one of my assistants call out. With my paw on the doorknob, I sighed, resuming my business face for a few more moments. I turned around, glaring down at my assistant... only to find myself looking up.
"Mr. Stevens! Wait..." The young rat trotted up to me, smiling at the corner of his mouth, and I noticed for the first time that my assistant was quite a bit larger than I was. "Just one last thing for you to sign, sir." He presented me with a clipboard and a pen, his breathing a bit heavier for having run after me. Rats tend to be large, compared to most prey species, and foxes smaller than most predators, but it was still rare to see the typical size imbalance running backwards. I'd have to have a talk with HR--see if could get him transferred somewhere more appropriate. Clark's office, maybe... yes, a tiger would know what to do with this rat. I grinned, and pretended it was for his benefit.
"Jonathan, isn't it?" I asked, making small talk as I scanned the rest of the document. "You're new here, yes?" I signed and handed the clipboard back up to him, still a bit unnerved by his size. Well. In any case, I'm still the boss.
"Yes sir," he said with a small nod, and a genuine smile. "I'm finding it very rewarding."
"Glad to hear that. Hoping to rise quickly?" He nodded, with little hesitation, and I chuckled. "Of course. Will that be all?" I added, a bit impatiently. I had already begun to turn around before he answered.
"Actually... I was wondering, sir, if you would like to go out to dinner with me?"
I stopped, unprepared for his response. Was I being propositioned by one of my assistants--and a rat, no less? This was not how things worked. I was a bit flattered, though. And there was something about him... the white gleam of his teeth, or the way he seemed to look up at me while actually looking down. He was a bit overweight, though I must admit I liked his shape. But... overweight, nothing--he's nearly twice my height! People will think he's trying to intimidate me--and is he? No... not a chance. Look at him, wringing his hands... he'd be crushed if I said no. Alright, then. But it cannot have been his idea.
"Well," I said, putting on a confident smile, and trying to look taller than four and a half feet. "If you're going to be so forward, I don't see why I should hold back. I've already eaten today, and I was just heading home. But I wouldn't mind sharing my bed with a cute rat."
Even I felt uncomfortable with such an unwieldy proposition, but he blushed and stammered just the way he ought to. Say what you will about social strictures; it is nice for some things to be predictable. I grinned at him, showing my teeth, and he satisfied himself with just a timid nod.
As I held the door open for him, I caught a glimpse of my secretary, Ms. Fielding, peering our way. I caught her gaze, and she started, quickly burying her nose in paperwork. Fantastic. Finally, the right kind of rumors might start going around... my stature hasn't exactly helped my image, around here, and people were starting to talk.
It wasn't a taboo thing to have sex with your superior, as long as it wasn't too blatant. It was usually he who initiated it, though. As with so much other progress, the high-tech world of business was still ruled, deep down, by bestial forces. Size, influence, intimidation... and at the heart of it, the fundamental interaction between predator and prey. That aspect wasn't widely publicised, but it happened. Everyone still knew why predators were in the majority among high-level executives, and why prey never seemed to rise in the workplace. Everyone knew what a 'hostile takeover' meant--it was talked about, although only in euphemisms. 'Downsized'... 'bought out'... as if we could ignore all the lives that had ended, all the in the name of business, of tradition. Still... if you want to play the game, you have to obey the rules.
I followed Jonathan through the door, taking a moment to admire him from behind. He must have been here for days, although I had hardly noticed his presence... and at that moment I started to wonder why. He was dressed unassumingly, but the sheen of his brown fur and tail revealed at least some attention to appearance, above and beyond mere cleanliness. His fur was short and sleek, following his contours closely, such that I could easily see the definition of the muscles underneath. Not that there were many, honestly... although he seemed to be muscular enough, it wasn't the most noticeable aspect of him. He was a rat, of course, so his shape didn't look out of place, exactly--his narrow muzzle sloped back and widened to join his shoulders, with no clear border between his head and neck. His body likewise was much bulkier towards his hips and powerful thighs, so that he almost appeared conical. No, that sounds unflattering... his body was adorable.
I found myself staring at his ass as I followed him out. Fact is, it was larger than I was... but strangely, it seemed to make me want him more. Maybe it would be a good idea to keep him around. Prey or not, he was still quite large, and it might help my own size issues if I had a lover like him under my thumb.
I reached out, a few feet behind him, to grasp the middle of his tail. He squeaked and turned, with a flattered look and an endearing smile, as I stroked my paws smoothly down its length. The door swung shut behind us, and with a soft tug on his tail, I led him to my car.
*****
"You can call me Douglas, you know."
"Yes Mr. Stevens," Jonathan muffled, his murine muzzle buried between my legs. Although meek at the office, his inhibitions had steadily lowered as we neared my bed. Now he lapped happily at my erect cock, keeping his large teeth at a safe distance. He moved forward, sliding my full length into his mouth without hesitation, and I started to feel even more self-conscious about my size. His head rested between my thighs, looking almost larger than both of them put together. It wasn't as if... bah. I'm small, and I ought to just accept it. Even as he suckled peacefully at my cock, his eyes closed tightly, I looked over my body with an unflattering eye.
I was about five feet tall, small even for a fox, but my body had about the right proportions. I placed my paw next to Jonathan's, marveling at the difference--he could probably hold my entire fist inside one of his. My fur was well-kept, of course, and the coloration was the same as most other foxes--pure white on my tailtip, belly, and underneath my chin, black on my legs, arms, and paws, and fiery red everywhere else. My legs had some muscle to them, but closer to my torso they widened; the effects of a desk job are hard to ignore. I poked my belly, trying (and failing) to find any muscle beneath the fur. I squeezed my paw against my pudgy belly and shook my head, vowing to start exercising more regularly.
Jonathan opened his eyes dreamily, to see me poking critically at my belly. He grabbed my paw, forcing my eyes to meet his, and pulled his lips from my cock with an audible slurp. "You're not ugly," he said sternly, and poked his wet nose into my belly fur. Still holding my gaze, he crawled forward, pulling his body over mine, with my cock leaving a wet trail down the fur of his neck and chest. He planted a quick kiss on the tip of my muzzle, and I tasted my own precum on his lips.
"Would I be here if you weren't attractive?" he whispered, stroking my sides. He kissed me again, pushing my head down into the mattress. I pushed back against him, what little I could, and scritched my claws through his chestfur. He pulled away, resting his weight fully on top of me, and licked submissively at my muzzle. I grinned and placed my paw on his head, encouraging him to continue.
"Really?" I asked absentmindedly, stroking his ears. His body warmed me with a comforting embrace, surrounding me entirely and pressing me into the mattress. I closed my eyes, relaxing in the pleasant feeling of being so tightly held.
"Of course," he replied seductively, "I'm in love with everything you are." Lifting himself back up, he held his head over mine, our noses almost touching. He breathed slowly, hot breath washed over my muzzle as he stared directly into my eyes. His gaze held me fixed as surely as his weight had, although it was a bit less comforting. Despite how submissive he had been, the size of his muzzle, compared to mine, was almost menacing. He lowered his head for a kiss, mouth half-open in a lustful daze, and before I could raise my head to meet him he had slipped his mouth entirely around my muzzle. His lips slid down to the base of my muzzle, clamping shut just beneath my eyes. Before I could even squeak in surprise, he began to suckle on my entire muzzle, much as he had been sucking at my cock just moments ago.
My eyes went wide, as much from pleasure as from surprise. His soft mouth undulated over my muzzle and his tongue slid across my chin, soaking my fur and sliding wetly along my lips. Every so often his tongue would slip from his mouth to lick sensually over my soft white neck fur. I found my eyes sliding shut, and a low purr vibrated my muzzle in his mouth--I was enjoying it, without needing to understand why. When I felt his paw close around my cock, I let myself sink into the drowsy pleasure he gave me.
I lifted my paws, part of me feeling compelled to get on top, and mount him, but he dropped his chest down on me, pinning me to the bed once more. I lay trapped under him, helpless to resist the pleasure he was forcing on me, and despite my initial struggle... I was enjoying it. My muzzle was soaked with saliva, and my cock felt each touch as if it were the first. My only air was what he exhaled, and the warmth and decreased oxygen content were making my head spin. I moaned into his throat as his paw played over my sensitive knot, fingers squeezing and tugging, urging me impatiently towards orgasm. My whole body quivered as I slipped over the brink, sliding irrevocably towards release.
He chose that moment to pull his mouth away, slurping saliva from my muzzle and licking his lips in satisfaction. Already in the throes of orgasm, I found myself clutching at him, tucking my head under his chin and whimpering with pleasure. His paw squeezed tighter, gripping my cock wholly within his palm, with my cum splashing out between his fingers. He held me tight, one paw gripped tightly around my most vulnerable and pleasurable organ, and another bracing the back of my head, clutching me protectively against the thick brown fur of his shoulder.
I was ashamed to have come off so soon, some part of my conscience crying out against what society would call weakness, but that piece of myself was by now buried deeply underneath the balm of orgasm, and the soothing tightness of Jonathan's embrace. Another part of me felt his stiff cock resting against me, and guilt that he remained unsatisfied. But most of me was merely satiated, and content to purr myself to sleep in the arms of this affectionate rat.
*****
I slept fitfully. Jonathan had released me during the night, and I lay alone on the side of the bed. I was half-awake, or dreaming, but unable to tell which. Did it matter? All I felt was discontent.
I must have been dreaming, it occurred to me, because I was eating a mouse.
He squirmed in my muzzle, arms thrashing ineffectually. I whimpered while trying to subdue such a large meal, reaching out to hold his arms still. The meal himself seemed to be resisting, twisting his torso within me, and stretching my insides uncomfortably. When I had finally wrested his arms to his sides and stretched my muzzle painfully over his hips, I found that I was wrong. His cock slipped into my mouth, pulsing with irrepressible delight, and it became obvious that each thrash and twitch had the aim of bringing it into contact with my muzzle.
With all the struggle, I was unable to devote any attention to my own enjoyment. My awareness was foggy, as dreams often tended to be, and I felt no joy in the act of predation. But neither was it sorrow--the mouse was having quite literally the time of his life, and I couldn't regret giving him so much pleasure. No, it was something else... but nothing was clear.
Saliva pooled in my mouth as I paused, soaking the mouse's gray-furred hips. His supple ass was squished against my upper palate, my sharp vulpine teeth pinching his flesh. I swallowed laboriously, kneading my teeth over his tender buttocks. My tongue worked against his groin, trying simply to get it all down my throat, but the stimulation was sensual enough for him. As I prepared for one final swallow, with his hips past my teeth and his cock lined up at the entrance to my throat, he came abruptly. My already-full mouth and throat were flooded with semen, pooling at the base of my tongue and dribbling from the corner of my mouth. The taste overwhelmed me, and luckily my reflex was to swallow, rather than try to spit it out. I gulped suddenly, and the mouse slid down my throat with a great wet lurch.
His legs were pulled down by the weight of his body as it slumped into my stomach. The rest of him, tail and all, drained down my throat, following after his hips with no resistance. With it came a powerful feeling of relief, as I worked my overstretched jaw back into shape, but still no identifiable excitement. I lay down, weary from the exertion, searching my mind for a word to assign to this unexpected emotion. Though I was comfortably full, and the mouse was taking his last blissful rest, it was undoubtedly an unpleasant one.
I buried my muzzle in the sheets, reaching out for comfort in the soft bedding. My paws touched warm fur, and I pulled myself against it. It was softer than the sheets, and invitingly warm. I rubbed myself against it, purring. Paws grasped my ears, sedating me with gentle rubbing. I was already asleep, of course, but all I wanted was to rest. In this moment, I was content... and if I never woke up, I would have no regrets.
*****
From a deep sleep I came fully awake, in only the time it took to open my eyes. The harsh dawn light was breaking through the blinds, starkly illuminating my room, and the large rat who still slumbered on my undersized bed. For the briefest of moments I lay still, basking in an unusual contentment, before I noticed that my muzzle was tucked between Jonathan's legs, and my fur was caked with his seed. He shifted in his sleep, and his tailhole rubbed against my nose.
I recoiled, standing up quickly and thankfully not waking him. The aftertaste of semen in my mouth was not something I was accustomed to waking up to. Shit. I can't have people saying I blew one of my assistants; my career would be over. Maybe he was as sleepy as I was... maybe he won't remember.
I backed towards the bathroom, resolving to shower off the evidence, and leave for work before he woke up. If he did remember, my only chance was to convince him to hold his tongue (oh, if I had only held mine!). It would be better to have that conversation at work, where I wore the trappings of authority, than in the bedroom, where I wore his cum all over my muzzle.
I quickly stepped into the cold shower, to wash off the blush that was rising to my face.
*****
When Jonathan arrived at work several hours late, it gave me the perfect excuse to summon him to my office. He entered with a contented smile on his face, and walked around to my side of the desk without hesitation. He turned around in front of me, bending down as if to sit on my lap, but thought better of it and kneeled by my chair, instead. Even on his knees, his head was level with mine. I was already worried about appearing insufficiently superior for a predator of my station, and this was just too much. Before I could begin to assert myself, though, he started talking.
"Your mouth felt fantastic last night, Douglas. Have you called me in here for another round?" he said with a smile.
I was shocked into silence. He rose, sitting on top of my desk, and scratched between my ears.
"Don't worry. I know you want to look like the big strong predator, but you don't have to keep up the act in private."
"What act?" I blurted, all sense of tact lost.
He giggled. "Don't tell me you didn't enjoy sucking my cock."
I blushed heavily, and before I could protest again, he pulled me against him. This time, in the full light of day, I couldn't deny that I enjoyed it. "I don't... remember..." I whispered, my voice muffled by his body.
"Then what do you remember, little fox?" he hummed, petting me comfortingly.
"A dream." I proceeded to tell him the details of my predatory dream, hoping that I could reaffirm my standing, but the confusing emotions that had accompanied it were only making it harder to keep my composure. By the time I was finished I had snuggled deeply into his embrace, purring loudly and all but crawling into his lap.
He laughed as I finished, making me pull back... or try, anyway--he held me too tightly to even move. "Oh, I'm not laughing at you, Douglas. In fact, I think I can help you."
"Help me how?" I said defensively, failing to sound aggressive with my muzzle tucked against his belly.
"You might not know what you were feeling, but it's plain as day to me," he said, with obvious interest. "I'd love to help you find out... but first, little fox, tell me--what kind of person are you?"
"...what?"
"Do you really think you're a predator? Just another wolf running with the city crowd?" He squeezed me tighter, possessively, and I squeaked despite myself. "I told you I was in love with everything you are... but I don't think you know just what that is."
His questions frightened me, because I took them seriously. I listened to each word, and questioned myself, and what I got back was not a satisfying answer... just confusion.
"What am I?" I whispered, fearing the answer, and already half-knowing what it was. But he didn't answer, except to begin unbuttoning my shirt.
"You already know what you are, little fox." He whispered seductively into my ear, each sentence punctuated by a deep breath, heavy with restrained lust. "And I think you know what you need," he purred, startling me with a lick to my ear.
I lowered my head and let him groom me passionately, wetting my ears and muzzle with saliva. He undressed me steadily, stripping away my authority over him, if I had any to begin with. I let him, neither resisting nor cooperating, but whimpering in tacit consent. His paws roamed over my body, grasping here and there, more to declare ownership than to actually restrain. With each tug on my fur, each button unbuttoned, and each soft stroke of his claws against my skin, I felt more and more subordinate to him.
Before I knew it, I was sitting naked in my own office, with Jonathan's paw resting heavily on my head. I looked up at him, whining softly, subdued by the unexpected predatory gleam in his eyes. He grasped my paws and led them to his groin. I hesitated for a moment more, uncertainty and fear plain on my face, until he growled low in his throat. With a final whine of submission, I leaned down to unbutton his pants.
My secretary chose that moment to enter the room. She gasped, taking in the scene in a moment--the boss naked, kneeling subdued before his assistant, both paws on his groin. I moaned low in my throat, mournfully, but could not bring myself to move. I lowered my head, unable to meet her gaze. As I stared at the pink tip of Jonathan's cock, eagerly prepared to sink into my muzzle, I heard her flee the room, slamming the door behind her.
"Guess you're not the boss anymore, Doug." He chuckled, squeezing my ears painfully, and pushed my head over his cock.
I suckled dutifully, his maleness swelling to fill my warm, wet muzzle. I choked back my resistance, and choked down a thick mouthful of his sweet precum. My head hung limp, grasped tightly in his paws, and he slowly slid my muzzle up and down on his cock, casually fucking my mouth as his thick tail twitched on my desk. My tongue moved with unexpected dexterity, coaxing pleasured groans from above me, and more slick juices from his cock.
The fear, uncertainty, and even resentment that I had been trying to suppress now slipped away from me with no effort at all. I knew the news would spread quickly, but the knowledge that my career was slipping away from me could only strike me as freeing. I could not mourn losing a position that hung heavily on me, that I had always struggled to fit into. Whatever the cost, it would be worth it to finally belong.
My new duties, as it turned out, were surprisingly rewarding. There was a pleasant fullness in the way his cock twitched and swelled in my mouth, and each strong pulse was accompanied by a pat on the head that I found oddly comforting, even while still feeling as demeaning as it was intended. Although he dominated me, I took comfort in the heat of his body, and the firm grip his paws held on my muzzle. As I slipped his dick deeper into my throat, feeling it pulsing ever more urgently, my own cock hung unnoticed between my legs, bobbing free from its sheath, and dripping strands of precum down to the carpet. My mind was bent towards giving him pleasure, relishing in the perversity of offering this rat, this prey animal, such debased service. He was right, as was the hidden part of me that I could never quite silence--despite my species, I was not meant to be a predator.
By the time he pulled my head away, my mouth slick with his juices, I was honestly disappointed to miss out on tasting his cum. I looked up into his face, his cock shadowing my muzzle. He just grinned at me, pushing it against my face, and I whined pitifully as I rubbed my muzzle along his length. A large paw gripped my thin muzzle and his cock at once, squeezing tightly, and I felt the first splash of his lust soak the fur of my forehead. His paw stroked up and down, my face pinned against his cock as it throbbed and pumping semen onto my fur. Each hot splash gave me a jolt of pleasure, and I was soon purring contentedly, kneeling obediently between Jonathan's legs.
I kept my eyes tightly closed, to keep it from dripping into my eyes, but I could hear Jonathan shift, slipping off the desk and straddling my kneeling form.
"Rub it on my tailhole," he said, in a commanding tone. My tail began to wag, and my cock sprang immediately to attention, expecting to finally be called into service. I turned my muzzle towards the ceiling, and he lowered himself until my nose slipped under the base of his thick rat tail. Feeling the warmth of his puckered muscle against my nose, I rubbed my muzzle from side to side between his buttocks, smearing the slick, pungent lubricant over his anus, and spreading it over my face at the same time. I finally reached between my legs, stroking my rock-hard fox cock, eager to slip it into his rear entrance.
I had been looking forward to mounting him since last night, even if it hadn't been as dominant an urge as I thought at the time. I could picture my hips nestled between his thighs, my small form dwarfed even more by comparison to the thick body that surrounded it. I would fervently plunge my cock into his oversized tailhole, his buttocks closing over the entirety of my ass with only my tail sticking out, wagging furiously. It was obvious to me now that even mounting him would be an act of service, and not domination. I still ached for release, though, and my cock still yearned to feel a warm tailhole closing around it.
His tailhole throbbed against my muzzle, winking in anticipation, loosening enough to give me the occasional glimpse into his spacious insides. I felt dwarfed by the size of him: his hips, spread around me, were wider than my shoulders, and my entire head was hidden from view between his buttocks. I kept my eyes open while languidly rubbing my muzzle along his ass, watching his tail twitch as I nudged under it, and feeling his heavy balls resting on the back of my neck.
"Before we begin," he spoke, startling me out of my lustful fantasizing, "have you figured out that dream yet?" I paused, with my lips pursed against his thick tailhole, and tried to think.
"I think it was... it was shame. I shouldn't have been eating that mouse. Even if he was enjoying it--it should have been a real predator, not me." I blushed as I admitted out loud, for the first time, that I was no predator. But it was also freeing, in a way.
But Jonathan just laughed. "Very close, my little fox, but you forgot one thing. If you're not a predator, why would you dream about such a meal... and such a satisfying meal, as well? If you're not a predator... what are you?"
When I didn't answer, he lowered his body further, and my slick muzzle suddenly popped through the ring of his tailhole. Surprised, I tried to pull back, only to find that his tight grip held my muzzle too firmly to resist. For a moment I was frozen, uncomprehending, which gave him time to deliver his last, chilling, message.
"It wasn't shame, dear fox. It was envy."
Then he pulled, flexing his ass in what could only be a gulp, and I realized that those were the last words I would ever hear.
My lubricated muzzle slipped effortlessly into him, and a moment later my entire head was clenched tightly in his rectum. My ears were folded back against my skull, and my nose pressed against a second sphincter which was already pulsing in eager anticipation. The grip forced my muzzle closed, turning my terrified shout into nothing more than a muffled squeak. My arms flew up to brace against his ass, straining against the weight of his body as he slowly lowered himself over me, but he was far too heavy to resist. His thick tail rested along my chest, feeling almost scaly against my soft fur, and twitched rapidly in obvious enjoyment.
His anus cinched tight around my neck, the thick muscle resting firmly on my shoulders, and for a brief moment his full weight had me pinned against the floor. I struggled, of course, like any good prey would... and like most prey, the effort was genuine. My legs strained against the floor, trying to straighten out to let me move, without just forcing myself further into him. I twisted my torso, trying to lean forward or back, but I couldn't move an inch--even throwing my full weight into each movement, the irresistible inertia of his body easily kept me still. With a straining sigh, he relaxed his anus, and it quickly stretched down around my shoulders. His bulk eased down around my kneeling form, the soft slickness of his insides rushing smoothly past my muzzle and the rest of my form, until his tailhole rested loosely on the floor around me. He groaned at being so rapidly filled, a low echo that rolled through his entire body. Hot mucus was rapidly soaking through my fur, and I quivered at the way his bowels clenched around me. Each squeeze was accompanied by a sickening squelch, muffled by the mucus that plastered my ears against my head, but still almost deafening. My tail thrashed on the carpet, sticking out from between his folded knees, but my torso was so tightly packed inside him that I could not move at all.
"Is it always like this?" I wondered, thinking of all the prey consumed by this city. We would discuss it occasionally--how they struggled--when I was among those I thought were my peers at the club, or the golf course. When the predators gathered to relax, they so often strayed to the topic of their last meal. It excited them to talk about the struggles, and swap stories of "the one that almost got away" (although when they did get away, it was kept as quiet as possible). It excited me as well, but I always felt unsettled, and labored to appear as relaxed as the other predators. I never realized--and they never cared--just how desperately prey will struggle for its life... and how frightening it was when your most drastic struggles were not enough.
He knelt forward with his ass in the air, freeing my legs, and I flopped like a fish out of water. I knew it was no use, that in fact I was probably only aiding my descent, but the stifling confinement was too much to stand. I could feel his loosened tailhole tightening slowly, squeezing my legs with increasing pressure as they slipped steadily deeper. I panicked, overcome with desperate, futile fear, and my mind latched on to the feeling of his tailhole inching down my legs. Paralyzed by the tight grip of his colon, with most of my senses muffled, my attention was riveted to the clenching sensation that slid, agonizingly slowly, towards my toes. As my chest heaved, fighting for oxygen, my paws twitched, curled, and slipped out of sight.
I let myself go limp, cocooned tightly within his bowels, as a relieved sigh rumbled through his body. The urge to breathe was growing uncontrollable, and I couldn't keep up my resistance any longer. With my lungs burning, and my muscles growing weaker, I gave in.
To my surprise, my lungs filled with air. It was hot, humid, and fetid with the reek of Jonathan's bowels, but it was enough to keep me conscious. My chest still heaved as I was pulled deeper, alternately sobbing with relief and choking on the foul air, but the pain in my lungs was gone.
I remained limp, unwilling to struggle any longer. The most immediate danger to my life was gone, with the flood of air into my lungs seeming to sweep away the fear as well as the pain. What was left? Jonathan was a predator, as I really should have suspected, and I was his prey... as I always should have known. And here I was, being pulled into his body, helpless to resist. Granted, it was an peculiar method of consumption, but was there anything really so tragic about the situation?
His bowels clenched around me, sucking my form deeper into his ass, and closer to my inevitable destination. Yet the closer I came, the less I wanted to resist. By the time I reached his stomach, the firm sphincter opening easily to admit my muzzle, I was pleasantly half-conscious, letting it happen with limp acceptance. I coughed with my first breath of the acrid air in his stomach, and my breathing became quick and shallow, but I welcomed my arrival. It felt like a lifetime had passed, and I was being reborn into my true fate, my proper destination... the belly of a predator.
His stomach welcomed me, its lower sphincter squeezing down my belly, and I felt the tight muscle stroke the tip of my swollen sheath. As it slid down my sheath, my cock sliding free, I came suddenly to a new realization. I hadn't just accepted my fate--I was enjoying it, even reveling in it. My cock sprang free in an instant, bobbing fully-engorged between my legs, the tip dipping into the acids pooled at the bottom of Jonathan's stomach. I reached for it immediately, sighing with relief as the last of my legs slipped into the stomach, and I curled up into a comfortable position.
It was cramped, with slick flesh pulled tight around my huddled body, but I could move my wrist slightly. My tightly-clenched paw brought me more pleasure than ever, coated as it was in the slick mucus that had aided my swallowing. The undulating movements, gurgling, and loud squelches were undeniably erotic, and the slightest motion of my wrist was more than enough to leave me gasping... although naturally it didn't help that the air was running out. I finally knew, beyond any doubt, that I was where I belonged in this world. Jonathan would take my place, and even rise in the ranks, as I had failed to do, by virtue of his true predatory instinct. And I would be free from all of that, tucked securely into his body and used, thoroughly, for my true purpose.
I whimpered helplessly, feeling my strength wane as my arousal mounted, desperate to achieve one last orgasm. The heat was unbearable, and the humidity was almost as bad as the stinging acidity of what little air was left. The harsh environment was literally killing me--but somehow I had never been more aroused. The crushing grip of his stomach was insistent, and unmerciful, and my stifled consciousness submitted to it eagerly. It felt right, on some deep irrational level that I could not deny, but at this moment it also felt lewd, carnal, and irresistibly erotic. In those last moments, as my cum splashed into the acidic stew that surrounded me and I relinquished the last of my air in a pitiful, ecstatic whine, I embraced my place in the food chain.
*****
I would die, in just a few moments, and my digestion would continue over the next few hours. Although nominally a prey animal, Jonathan's form seemed well-equipped to consume large prey, so I was certain that my fur, bones, and size would give him no trouble. My limp, curled-up corpse would gradually lose its fur, then its form, and slump to the bottom of Jonathan's stomach. I should be thankful that there would be no pain at this point, as my body slowly reduced to a murky liquid, churning in a rat's stomach, with some fox fur floating about, and whatever large bits of bone proved to large to disintegrate--part of my skull, or pelvis, perhaps.
The fox slurry I had become would be released, in small squirts, into the small intestine. I would travel the same path, in a somewhat different form, and this time the squeezing flesh would not merely pull me along. Various chemicals would mix with my digested form, breaking me down at a molecular level, and the soft, slippery walls of his intestine would suck the nutrients away, to be used to build up Jonathan's body, and most likely add a few inches to his belly and thighs, too. Even a fox my size would take hours to absorb, as my formless body slid slowly through the several-meter-long fleshy tube.
Eventually my liquid remains would pour into the large intestine, long past the end of my life, but not yet the end of my journey. Water would by reabsorbed by his body, and as I made my way through the wider, shorter passage, my liquid form would begin to thicken, and solidify, into recognizable rat shit. The peristaltic contractions would still churn my formless remains, but eventually I would clump together, molded into the shape of the passageway that had, just a few hours before, stretched itself around my form.
In the end, after several hours within his body, I would be forced into his rectum once more, and prepared to leave. A bit of fur, and maybe bone, would remain to show that this shit had once been a fox, but the rest of me would be long gone, used up, and unrecognizable. My remains, although far reduced from my original size, would fill his rectum and back up into his large intestine, filling him with the urgent need to void me from his body. It would bring him pleasure as well, I'm sure. Besides whatever enjoyment he might gain from consuming his prey, the fullness in his rectum would press against his prostate, exciting him even more. I could imagine him masturbating, there in my office restroom, as his asshole loosened around me once more, plopping my discarded remains into the bowl.
I spent three years in this office, never rising in the ranks and never quite knowing why, but never suspecting that I would end my days piled up in my own toilet. It was more than just death, more even than the most complete destruction. It was submission, of the uttermost sort--my body was not just destroyed, and taken apart at the most basic level, but it was also used by Jonathan, becoming a part of his body. It gave me some bit of solace, as I contemplated a few last tufts of fox fur swirling out of sight, that my life, and death, would at least serve some small purpose.