FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

"I don't know what you're dreaming about in there, but it must be really saucy."

An orange-red rune was glowing on Lady Catherine's swollen abdomen, her fingers lightly tracing through the caramel-colored fur on her belly surrounding the mark. The white cheetah in her womb had long-since fallen asleep, but he'd been intermittently squirming, fidgeting, and even quietly moaning at times, ever since her spell took hold.

It wasn't necessary for her purposes, but it certainly made it easier to absorb someone when they were compliant and enjoying themselves. Giving her passengers vivid, erotic dreams had proven to be an effective measure to accomplish that. She couldn't peer into the cheetah's subconscious, but the way he was unconsciously responding, plus the heat radiating from his body, made it clear her spell was working as intended.

She could feel Frosty losing integrity. Her abdomen was becoming increasingly malleable, her fingers able to sink deeper into the soft fur as the minutes passed. And as Frosty continued to slowly soften and melt, Lady Catherine's appearance began to subtly shift. It started as a patch of white fur immediately surrounding the glowing rune, which began to gradually spread outward from her midriff. Soon the color was fading from her dark chocolate spots until they were a dull grey.

Removing her sibling's impersonator from the picture was only half of Lady Catherine's plan. She would have to fully assume his appearance to carry out the rest.

She had entertained the idea of using Prince Frosty to accomplish her means, but couldn't bring herself to it. The desire to keep him safe and protected was a more compelling force. It was the same urge that prompted her to act against Prince Fomo. She knew what the mouse was capable of.

The reforming spells available to them were potent ones that had gotten Prince Frosty out of many an untimely end. But on more than one occasion, a visitor to the mouse's palace had turned up missing, and even the best clerics in the land couldn't restore them.

Lady Catherine knew it was only a matter of time before the mouse's gluttonous greed earned her little brother permanent residence on his hips. And she wouldn't allow that to happen.

Reaching into her cleavage, the lady cheetah extracted a small mirror and examined herself. The transformation spell was accelerating now. The color was steadily fading from her face. Her golden eyes shifted to an emerald-green hue, then eventually fully blue to match Frosty's appearance. Disappointingly, taking on Frosty's physical traits meant that Lady Catherine's breasts began to shrink and retreat against her chest until it was fully flat.

"Tch, the things I go through," she murmured. She would have to figure out some other way to access her "bag of holding" without them.

Slumping into the soft stagecoach seat, Lady Catherine closed her eyes and squeezed a hand against her belly, which was steadily shrinking. The cheetah caught in her womb no longer felt solid, something that made her grin.

"Mmh, you're vanishing much_faster than others have in the past," she mused. "I might think you _want to become part of me, dear." There was a muted, wet gurgle from her abdomen in reply, perking Lady Catherine's ears, followed by a chuckle.

Settling lower into the seat, her thighs parted as she began to explore her rounded belly with both hands. A moment later her abdomen contracted, then she felt the lingering, soft mass inside shift. "Oh, you want out already? Well, then..."

An indulgent groan escaped when Lady Catherine began to consciously push. Squeezing out what remained of her companion didn't take much effort, compared to what it took to get him in. There was a wet squelch as her nethers parted and a wet mass began to slip free. It wasn't a white cheetah that emerged from between her thighs, however. Only Frosty's belongings were present.

The robes he'd been wearing fell to the floor of the carriage with a splat, soggy with the lady cheetah's fluids. Frosty's black collar came next, and finally gold jewelry that Prince Frosty was meant to be wearing. Panting softly once her body was rid of the indigestible items, she casually drew her underwear back up, then neatened her dress.

With her task complete, the rune began to fade from Lady Catherine's belly. She examined herself in the mirror, then peered over the rest of her body. She looked every bit the part of Prince Frosty now, aside from her clothing. She was still wearing her golden dress, but the Prince's robes would need to be laundered before she could properly assume his identity.

Bending down, Lady Catherine plucked Frosty's collar from the soggy pile. It was such a crude-looking thing, she noted. Not at all fitting of royalty, unlike the Prince's golden crown that was now resting beside her on the seat. To her surprise, when her thumb brushed across the black band, the collar shimmered briefly.

The collar was meant to respond to Frosty's input alone, but the biometrics were unable to differentiate Lady Catherine from the true owner, now that she had assumed the white cheetah's physical characteristics.

"How curious," she purred amusedly. "It would seem there's more to you than I realized..."

* * * * * * * * * *

At Lady Catherine's request, the royal stagecoach was now returning to Prince Fomo's palace. Both the driver and the captain of the guard were privy to her plan, and had agreed to the journey without question. The white cheetah was now fully dressed to match her Princely appearance, donning the Prince's own robes and crown.

Her mind wasn't entirely occupied with her plot, however. After returning home to Purrsia, Lady Catherine had spent a good deal of time examining and trying to figure out the nature of Frosty's unusual collar. To her surprise, there seemed to be nothing magical about it, despite how the collar responded to her touch. She had even verified with one of the grand enchanters that no trace of magic was imbued in it, and to her growing astonishment, discovered that the collar would only react when _she_touched it, and no one else.

Her curiosity toward it was burning, but it would have to wait. She had a bigger task ahead of her now. The collar had been left with the enchanter, who would hopefully know more about it by the time she returned.

"My Lad - er, my Prince, we're approaching Prince Fomo's palace," the driver informed.

Lady Catherine growled softly. It wasn't the first time the driver had slipped. He would have to keep his mouth shut when they arrived, else her cover might be blown.

The driver's error was quickly forgotten when the carriage passed through the main gate and circled around the fountain in front of the mouse's palace. Prince Fomo was standing at the head of the stone walkway, accompanied by several of his guards, looking quite pleased to see Purrsia's Royal Stagecoach pulling in.

As soon as the carriage halted, the jaguar Miguel dismounted from the driver's perch and moved to open the door. Lady Catherine elegantly stepped out and greeted Prince Fomo with a warm smile, tail swishing.

"Prince Frosty, it's a pleasure to have you again so soon." The grin that accompanied his greeting made the white cheetah's eyes briefly flare.

"And you as well, Prince Fomo," she returned. "I know I wasn't expected, but..."

The Prince held up a hand with a growing smirk, stepping toward the white cat. "You don't need to excuse yourself to me." His voice lowered to a sultry murmur once he was standing directly in front of "Frosty." "I can tell you're looking forward to indulging your Prince again, Princess Bellyslut."

The remark made Lady Catherine's mane bristle, but she did her best to contain her rage and maintain a pleasant demeanor. The mouse's large ears perked now that he was close, then Prince Fomo leaned the rest of the way in until his nose touched the cheetah's neck. After a few long sniffs, he licked his lips.

"Mmmh, and you smell tempting as ever. Have you taken a page from Lady Catherine's book, knowing how much I enjoyed her?" As the mouse teased, he brushed a finger along the cheetah's chin. "The chocolate complements your vanilla scent delightfully well, chee."

Lady Catherine barely subdued the urge to sink her fangs into his finger and bite it off. The gall of this mouse to speak of her that way. She was also inwardly cursing herself for forgetting to mask her own scent, but Prince Fomo seemed oblivious to why it was present.

As much as she detested the thought, she had to play the part, Lady Catherine reminded herself. Slipping closer, she gently pressed her slim figure to the Prince's front, purring quietly to him.

"I thought you might enjoy it."

Prince Fomo's hands dipped, draping his arms loosely around the white cheetah's waist and shamelessly resting his palms on their butt. "I don't think it's possible for me to enjoy you any more thoroughly than I already do, but I've been wrong before."

Lady Catherine watched the mouse flash his large front teeth as his tongue slid across them, then his belly gave a telling rumble.

"There was meant to be a royal feast today, but perhaps I'll give my kitchen hands the day off and have a feast of my own," he suggested.

"That sounds delightful," Lady Catherine replied, maintaining her composure despite how she truly felt about the mouse's casual predatory demeanor toward her Prince.

Prince Fomo pressed a kiss to the side of the cheetah's neck, followed by a slow lick upward that made them flinch. "Then let's not waste any time."

Everything according to plan. Excellent. Lady Catherine mused, following closely behind Prince Fomo as he turned and proceeded toward the main door. She was going to take great pleasure in putting this smug mouse in his place...

* * * * * * * * * *

Prince Fomo was confidently swaying his hips as he waltzed to his private chambers, intermittently peering over his shoulder. Prince Frosty was being unusually quiet, which he assumed was because the cheetah's mind was preoccupied with what was about to happen. Prince Fomo was partially correct, but not for the reason he presumed.

The mouse opened the door for his spotted companion and watched as the snowy cheetah confidently strolled into his room, offering a confident hip-swagger of his own. The sight of that perky rump made the Prince drool, swiftly following the cat inside and locking the door behind them.

To Prince Fomo's surprise, he wasn't the one that made the first move. With a smirk, Prince Frosty turned about-face and quickly moved toward the mouse. In the blink of an eye, the mouse Prince found himself nudged backwards into door with a squeak, the white cheetah rumbling against him.

He looked taken aback for a moment, but then Prince Fomo grinned as well. "You must really be looking forward to this, Princess."

"Oh, most definitely," Frosty replied. "More than you know."

It was getting difficult to contain his drooling. Prince Fomo had to swallow to avoid it leaking from the corner of his mouth as the cheetah's exotic scent filled his nose. The white vanilla-scented cat could already get his stomach growling, but now that he smelled like chocolate on top of it? It was taking all his discipline not to pounce Prince Frosty and devour him on the spot.

"In that case, let's get you out of this royal gown, kitty. I wouldn't want to spoil it."

"Would you do the honors?" the cheetah purred to him, then turned to present the back of his robe to Prince Fomo.

The grey mouse let his eyes wander up and down the svelte feline's frame. It was always a treat to take in, and the pink and gold-embroidered gown complimented Prince Frosty's curvy, feminine build. The buttons came undone one at a time, followed by the zipper holding it together in the back.

"Such a treasure, and to think I get to have you all to myself," Prince Fomo mused, following the zipper with his eyes as it exposed more of the cheetah's grey-spotted back. The robe began to fall away, prompting the mouse to slip his hands down his companion's sides to undress him. When the fabric reached Prince Frosty's hips, he briefly paused to admire them with his palms.

"My, my. I don't remember your hips being quite this full last we met. Have you been eating well, Princess?"

"Mmh, in a manner of speaking," Frosty replied.

There was clear innuendo in the cheetah's tone, making Prince Fomo smirk. "How fortunate of me, then. All the more to pad your Prince with."

Lady Catherine was fortunate that Prince Fomo couldn't see the devious glint in their eye, but the cheetah's white tail swished quickly, a more visible tell. A shiver could be felt throughout the cat's body when Prince Fomo leaned down and nuzzled between their shoulders, followed by a slow lick upward toward the back of their neck. The cheetah's quiet murmur that followed was involuntary, despite their intentions.

Prince Fomo's hands continued pushing the royal garment down the cheetah's legs, helping Prince Frosty step out of it, leaving the petite cat standing before him in nothing but a flirty black thong. The mouse's hands immediately returned to Frosty's bare hips, massaging and squeezing those supple curves, thumbs teasing at the thong but leaving it in place.

The snowy cheetah allowed him to indulge, glancing over their shoulder once more. "Shall I help you dress down as well, my Prince?"

Chuckling under his breath, the smaller rodent stood upright again and leaned in to nuzzle the back of his companion's neck, then murmured softly. "That won't be necessary. I don't think I'm gonna be able to keep myself off you much longer. My robes won't get in the way."

There was a soft chuckle that made Fomo's large ears perk, but the mouse was so entranced with the prospect of his new favorite meal that he didn't think anything of it. When the white cheetah began to step away, Prince Fomo's hands briefly tightened on his waist to prevent it. Prince Frosty's hips wiggled in response, then they took another step forward.

This time, the mouse allowed him to slip free of his embrace, eyes drinking in the slender frame that sauntered to the edge of his bed. Twisting at the waist, Prince Frosty rested one hand on his hip, the other extending Fomo's direction and beckoning him with a finger and a sultry gaze. It was more confident than he'd ever seen the often-timid cheetah act, but Prince Fomo didn't hesitate to accept the enticing invitation.

A low, hungry rumble filled the bedroom as Prince Fomo moved toward his "Princess." He was openly drooling now that they were out of public view. When he reached to take the cheetah's offered hand, however, it abruptly tightened and yanked Prince Fomo forward. With a sharp squeak, the mouse was pitched onto the mattress, landing roughly on his soft belly.

Prince Fomo barely had time to roll onto his back before the white cheetah was on top of him. His shoulders were pushed against the bed and pinned down by the petite cat, who was now straddling Fomo's wide thighs and looming over him. The flirty expression had melted away, the cheetah's eyes gleaming with a golden hue, spotted tail lashing in a way that made Fomo suddenly nervous. It wasn't the bashful, submissive look of the spottycat he'd grown to crave.

Prince Frosty had the look of a predator. A predator that looked quite proud with their catch.

Wriggling beneath the white cat, Fomo tried to squirm free, but there was surprising strength in the svelte feline that he'd never experienced before as those hands moved down his arms to prevent Fomo from shoving him away. The mouse's blue eyes were wide as Prince Frosty leaned down with a feline growl, pink tongue tracing their lips.

"Erf, c'mon, kitty, what's gotten into you?"

A set of sharp cat fangs was presented to Prince Fomo in response. "You're about to, mouse." To Fomo's surprise, the voice no longer matched the familiar face. "Your gluttony ends here."

It was as if something or someone had possessed Prince Frosty and was speaking through him, though the voice was also suspiciously familiar. The mouse had bigger concerns as a pair of jaws gaped open before his eyes, rough tongue hanging out as the white cat moved to engulf his face.

Prince Fomo fortunately also had tricks up his sleeves, one being a usefully dexterous tail. Frosty didn't notice it snaking from below until it wound around the cheetah's ankle and drew tight. Unexpected coiling made Prince Frosty snap their jaws short of Fomo's nose. The mouse flinched, expecting to feel those glistening fangs sinking into his muzzle, but the looming cheetah peered back to investigate the source of the disturbance instead.

Now it was Fomo's turn to get the upper hand. A moment of distraction was all he ever needed. With a sharp tug, the ropey pink tail yanked the cheetah's leg up from the bed. It wouldn't be enough to roll him, but all Fomo needed to do was off-balance him. One of the cat's hands quickly pulled away from the mouse's shoulder and moved to the bed to avoid toppling to one side.

Prince Frosty attempted to tug free, but the mouse's tail now had a firm grip. The snatched leg was pulled toward the other, then a second loop of mouse tail wrapped both ankles together and tightened further.

"You little whelp! Let go!" the white cat demanded, unsuccessfully trying to shake it off.

The outburst made the voice click in his mind. Fomo recognized it now. It was the same tone that had lashed out at him after sentencing Lady Catherine. He didn't have time to dwell on why or how that was the case; he still needed to subdue the cat that was trying to eat him. The white cheetah was so focused on wiggling and shifting their legs to extract themselves from Prince Fomo's tail that he had ample opportunity to capitalize.

The pink tail abruptly pulled upward again, and though he didn't fully heft Prince Frosty's legs from the bed, the tug unsettled the cheetah enough that he was pitched forward, right into Fomo's parting jaws. A startled chirrup was muffled as the mouse sealed his lips around Prince Frosty's face, prompting the cat to quickly move his hands in an attempt to shove himself free. Instead, the chee found themselves being introduced to the mouse's slick throat with a slimy shllluk.

Prince Fomo finally succeeded in taking the cheetah's legs out from under him, giving Frosty little hope of escaping the smaller rodent's grasp. His lower body was now suspended by a deceptively strong tail, robbing him of the leverage needed to pull away. A heavy gulp secured Prince Frosty's head entirely in Fomo's throat, and soon the grey mouse was yawning wide around the cheetah's shoulders.

It was far from the easy meal Prince Fomo had grown accustomed to; the white cat was struggling and fighting him every step of the way. Once he began to nibble and slurp his way down Frosty's torso, he was able to grab the cheetah's wrists and pry them free, forcing his arms to his sides. The mouse was gaining traction, hunching his body forward and sitting up now that Prince Frosty was no longer pushing him down.

Muffled protests and frequent cursing could be heard over the noisy squelches as Prince Fomo began ingesting his would-be predator in earnest. He wasn't out of danger just yet, but the mouse was confident that he would have a bellyful of cat soon enough. He allowed himself to relax somewhat and enjoy his squirming meal, leaning his head back and lifting the cheetah's legs higher with his tail as he made another deep gulp that pulled Frosty inside to his waist.

There was a moment when the half-ingested Prince seemed to relent and accept his fate, but when Fomo's tongue slid across his belly and gave a cheeky slurp between his meal's thighs, Prince Frosty began to wriggle with renewed vigor. Being devoured by the mouse he'd intended to put in his place was humiliating enough by itself. The only thing squirming accomplished was a delighted groan, followed by another greedy swallow that began feeding the cheetah's curvy hips down his neck.

Satisfied that Prince Frosty was past the point of no return, the mouse began to unwind his tail from the cheetah's ankles, but a swift kick in the air prompted him to wrap them right back up. Grabbing at his thick thighs to steady them, a noisy slurp filled the room as Fomo gave a firm shove, accompanied by another shaky groan when he felt the cat's head and shoulders filling his stomach.

The mouse's feline meal was sliding down easier, but not without copious verbal objections. Prince Frosty had worn himself down, so it was all he could manage now that Fomo's throat and stomach had a secure hold on him. The threats and profanities fell on deaf ears as the mouse released Frosty's ankles and wrapped his jaws around the pair of squirming feet. He gulped them down a moment after, tracing his neck with a finger to feel the cat's paws vanishing beneath his fur.

The angrily flicking tail was the last to vanish between Fomo's lips, slurped in like a noodle, followed by a heavy, delighted groan once his throat was relieved of the agitated cat. Both of the mouse's hands diligently began exploring his enormous belly as Prince Frosty settled in. A pair of cheetah paws met them with a kick, making the white dome jostle and stretch.

"Ooooh, gosh. Settle down in there, kitty, mousie's got you," Fomo crooned with a squeak.

The request was met with another outburst, heavily muffled beneath the mouse's fur, but clear enough that it made him smirk.

"Such language. Do you kiss your mother with that mouth, chee?" He watched with amusement as his belly rocked side to side from the Prince's squirming, arching his back to tighten his gut around him.

Uwwwrrrph . Prince Fomo blushed and giggled quietly after the crass belch, licking his lips at the lingering taste of vanilla and chocolate. "Mmh, if you keep struggling like that, my belly is just gonna digest you even harder, kitty. But it doesn't matter one way or the other. You'll still be padding royal mouse hips in the end."

The warning didn't deter his squirming passenger, but he could feel the cheetah losing steam. Prince Fomo's belly was already getting to work, the growing undulations and clenching making it more difficult for him to struggle. But he was still trying.

"Mmf, well, have it your way," Prince Fomo murmured. With a bit of difficulty, the mouse rolled onto his side, then on top of his own stomach, pinning the lively meal beneath himself. It put the Prince in a rather undignified position, but also made it possible to plant his feet against the bed so he could begin rocking his stomach back and forth, using his weight to grind his meal into the mattress.

For such an unassuming, short rodent, his belly was quite adept at digesting cats when needed. It gurgled and churned noisily as the mouse's hands roamed and pushed against the trapped feline. Frosty was already starting to soften, and though the cheetah's struggle had nearly died down, they were still loudly voicing their displeasure with Prince Fomo.

The Prince shivered excitedly when he felt a dull pop in his belly, hunching against his stomach and squeezing it between his arms. "Oooh, that's it, kitty. Digest for your Prince."

There was one last feeble squirm in protest, which Fomo's belly enthusiastically answered with a wet, loud glrrrrrrn and a series of pops and crunches. Arching his back, he used his hips to push the softening cat into his bed, which resulted in even more digestive gurgles and crackling.

Rolling back and forth, Fomo greedily pushed his hands into his stomach, which felt a good deal softer than it had only a few minutes earlier. Prince Frosty had finally surrendered, which wasn't much of a surprise given how quickly he was churning down. Squeaking contentedly and slowing his rocking motion, the mouse smirked and bent forward to press his head against his belly. It was delightfully soft and warm against his cheek, as if some part of the chee lingering behind was blushing in there.

"Mmmh, you digested just as well as you ever do, spottycat," he murmured, still tasting chocolate and vanilla on his breath. "But we're gonna have to have a chat about your attitude next time we meet..."