FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

Sleep refused to come to Basashi, as it did after every job. Sitting in the smoldering ruins of New Zemeckis, he allowed his mind to drift and the guilt he felt about what he had done fade into oblivion. The guilt would return soon enough, but for the moment, he clung to a forced sense of calm and peace. He had just managed to fully embrace the illusion of tranquility when something crashed into his back, and with the loudest voice he could muster, Valin shouted, "Hi B!"

Basashi shifted his weight and threw the monkey onto the ground before him. Before Valin could scramble to his feet, Basashi lifted one of his massive thighs and gently dropped his leg over the monkey's chest, pinning him down. As if his torso had been caught in a bear trap, Valin squirmed and kicked and hissed, and even sank his teeth into the thick calf of the zebra. The teeth were only slightly more painful than the typical flea bites for the gargantuan zebra. He waited patiently for the monkey to tire himself out, before calmly asking, "What do you want?"

"Your thunder thigh off me!" Valin screamed.

Basashi lifted his leg and scooted back on his rump. Valin scrambled to his hands and feet, snarled at the zebra, then stood. His eyes swayed down the rippling, muscled body of the zebra before him. In the moonlight and smoldering fires of the still burning city, every detail of his sculpted abdomen and pectorals were in full view. "Why are you naked?" he asked.

"Someone put a bunch of micros in the back pockets of my pants, so when I sat down, they exploded. You wouldn't happen to know anything about that, would you?"

"The fact you aren't sure it was me absolves me of the crime. If I do something, I want every to know it was me. Really though, Big B, what are you doing out here?"

"I just want to be alone," Basashi said.

"Why? What's bothering you?"

Basashi grumbled something to himself. "Something about the raid. Something about it isn't sitting well with me."

"Did you eat something bad?" Before Basashi could blink, Valin had wrapped his arms around the zebra from behind. His dexterous fingers stroked the sculpted abdomen, sifting through the white fur. It was actually rather pleasant, and although Basashi could easily drive his elbow into the monkey's crown, he decided to let him continue. "I know buses look tasty," Valin said, "but they're not worth it. Better to just pop them open and eat the crunchies inside. Kinda like eating popcorn, if the popcorn could scream and beg for its life."

"Just something about the whole thing bothers me. I can't put my finger on it though."

Valin turned his head and nuzzled into the zebra's broad back. "You get like this after every job. You'll be fine tomorrow." Refusing to break the embrace, Valin carefully scooted around Basashi's massive form, slipping under his arm and settling down in his lap. He leaned forward and braced himself on Basashi's pectorals. Basashi wondered what he was up to, until Valin leaned forward and gently kissed him on the snout. "Tonight, you just relax. I'll leave you alone."

Basashi watched him walk off, for the first time noticing the monkey was nude, save a pair of briefs with crimson splotches over the white. He didn't like thinking where the red spots had come from. The zebra was left alone for a few minutes, left with his own private thoughts, but soon heard muffled footsteps approaching. Perhaps Valin was trying to sneak up on him, and Basashi did think of letting him have his fun. He simply wasn't in the mood for games though, and turned around. Instead of Valin, or even Blitz the bunny standing there, Basashi came face to face with a white rat. Confronted with a strange, new macro in the ruins of a micro town, Basashi could only think of one thing to say, "You're not Valin."

A reflective glint caught Basashi's focus. He looked at the rat's left hand and noticed the long, slender needle of a syringe. With a scream, the rat stabbed the needle forward, aiming for Basashi's thick neck. Moving by instinct, Basashi caught the rat by the wrist with one hand. He wasn't quite aware of his own strength, and felt the bones in the rat's forearm turn to dust as he gave it a gentle (by his standards) squeeze. Whatever valor the rat had mustered shattered instantly. Basashi watched as he fell to his knees, sobbing and begging, free hand up in front of his face as if he might ward off a subsequent blow.

Basashi released the rat's arm and stood up. A giant even among giants, Basashi's was a mountain compared to the rodent, who was even shorter than Valin and Blitz. He felt vaguely uncomfortable that his erection was eye level with the kneeling rat, and tried placing a hand in front of his crotch to block the rat's view. Not that the rat was concerned with the black girth. He was cradling his shattered forearm and babbling incoherent apologies. Tears were rolling down his eyes.

Basashi felt bad. He squatted down, hoping that might make his significant size slightly less frightening, and in his kindest voice said, "I'm not going to hurt you kid. What's your name? I'm Basashi."

"Rhett," the rat said quickly. "Rhett is my name."

Basashi picked up the syringe from the ground. There was an ugly yellow substance housed inside the tube and bleeding out of the needle. He sniffed it tentatively, and by the awful odor, he could tell it was poison. "Wanna explain this to me?"

What little color was in Rhett's face abruptly washed away.

"Stand up," Basashi said. "We're going to go see what Rodney wants to do with you."

Whimpering, and cradling his broken arm, Rhett rose slowly to his feet. A knee to his rump got him moving, with Basashi following closely behind.

The four man squad had set up camp on the outskirts of the ruined city, so it was not a far walk. The subtle glow of the fire and the smell of dinner cooking both told Basashi he was going the right way. As Basashi drew closer, he noticed several sticks were stretched over the open flame. Impaled on the sticks were dozens, if not hundreds of micros, some still squirming as the fire roasted their fur and flesh. The scent of dinner cooking suddenly made Basashi sick.

Rodney was a shark, and the leader of the four man squad. Valin and Blitz must have been in the tent, because Rodney was the only one seated at the fire, occasionally poking it with a stick to keep it going strong, and keep the micros cooking evenly. When he noticed Basashi and Rhett, he stood and walked to meet them.

"Who's this?" he asked.

"His name is Rhett. He tried to kill me. Are Valin and Blitz alright?"

"Valin, Blitz," Rodney shouted. "Stop blowing each other and get out here, or I'm coming in there."

Several moments later, the monkey and the rabbit sheepishly emerged from the tent. There was a splash of white across Blitz's muzzle that wasn't the sleep drool, and Valin looked extremely peeved that they had been interrupted.

"Now Basashi, what happened?"

"I was out relaxing when he snuck up behind me. He was trying to stick me with this." Basashi produced the syringe, still filled with the ugly yellow juice.

"I'm happy you're OK," Rodney said. "Rat, why were you trying to stab my good friend, Basashi?"

"You destroyed New Zemeckis," he said. "You-"

"So you're here to avenge it, or you're here to prevent us from destroying Old Zemeckis. Got it. Basashi, break his neck."

The zebra looked to the shark, dumbstruck. Valin and Blitz exchanged nervous glances.

"Rodney, he's just a kid," Basashi said. "I mean, look at him."

"He's one of the bad guys, B. Break his neck, get him in a choke hold, sit on him, have rough sex. Whatever it takes, just make him dead."

The rat looked from the shark to the zebra with a look of utter, unadulterated terror. Basashi slowly reached his hand down, and gently wrapped his massive fingers around Rhett's thin throat.

"What if there are others?" Blitz said quickly. "The micros must have hired this one and some others to keep Old Zemeckis safe, or avenge New Zemeckis? A hostage is more useful than a corpse, right?"

Rodney thought to himself, and nodded. "That what's going on Rhett? Someone hired you? And now there are some others?"

"Three others," Rhett said quickly.

Rodney chuckled. "Blitz, find something to tie him up with. Gag him too. I don't want him saying two words. He's your pet by the way. If he gets lose, you're the one who's going to have to track him down. You got that?"

Blitz nodded. He disappeared into the tent, only to emerge a few moments later with a small medical cache and several stretches of rope (Basashi could guess why he had the rope already neatly cut into sections). After setting the rat's arm and placing it in a sling, he carefully tied both his wrists together, though it seemed purely token. Rodney tied a handkerchief around his snout to keep his jaw tightly clenched. But before he let the rodent be, he leaned very close to one of his large ears. Basashi was worried Rodney would literally bite the poor rat's head off, but he simply whispered something. Rodney laughed as he backed away, and whatever color had returned to the rat's abruptly left him.

The following day, the sun was shining bright and the air smelled clean, and Rodney set his sights on Old Zemeckis. Just like New Zemeckis. A fence ran around the entire perimeter, large enough that it would keep a wandering, drunk macro out, but that was it. Every inch of land inside the fence was covered with ugly little buildings, a testament of micro breeding habits. They would saturate the world if left to their own devices. Just like New Zemeckis, the outskirts of the city were suburban houses. The deeper one went into the micro territory, the larger the buildings grew until there was the tower, right in the center of the city, which was taller even than Basashi. Rodney licked his lips.

"Freeze," someone shouted. Rodney looked to the source of the voice. Racing around the perimeter of the fence was a Doberman, flanked by a naga on his left and a petite fox on his right. Judging by their vaguely militaristic apparel, Rodney assumed they were the rival mercenaries. Such suspicions were confirmed when Rhett attempted to rush to them, but he was caught by the neck as he passed Rodney. Without a hint of effort, the shark hoisted the rat off the ground and held him casually at arm's length, letting him squirm and fidget and whimper.

"I'm Rodney," the shark said. "The zebra is Basashi, the monkey is Valin, and the rabbit is Blitz. I assume you already know Rhett. Who are you?"

"DuWayne," said the Doberman. He was in good shape, with that sort of lean, athleticism one would associate a guard dog with. His hair was worn in an elaborate series of corn rolls, which Rodney found absolutely absurd looking, but decided not to say anything about them.

"Ivan," said the fox. Rodney was not completely sure of the fox's breed, but by his miniscule size, lithe build, and comically oversized ears, he guessed fennec. His fur pattern was typical. He had that same mango color that was common with fennecs and a slightly lighter shaded underbelly.

"Basil," said the naga. Of the four rival mercenaries, it was the naga that Rodney watched. The naga was about eye level with the shark, and just as muscled and well built. Long, slender teeth, possibly filled with poison, were revealed when he hissed out his name. He was covered in scarlet scales, natural armor, which meant he would be hard to wound, let alone kill if it came to blows. Rodney would have been frightened, if only the naga didn't give quite so much away in his face. The shark flexed the fingers that were wrapped around the rodent's throat, taking note of how each of the three rivals reacted. The Doberman was the most professional. The fox was the most amateur. But the naga was the one who cared the most about the rat. Past the layer of armored scales, he was the softest on the inside. That would be useful later.

"Now that our introductions are out of the way, we have a strict timetable. Would you kindly be on your way?" Rodney asked.

The Doberman growled. "We were hired to protect this city. I take it you're the brutes who razed New Zemeckis."

"Yes, we are. Now we are going to destroy Old Zemeckis. Would you care to help?"

The Doberman's jaw tensed. The squirming fidgets of the rat were growing feebler. In another moment, Rodney imagined his brain would shut down from lack of oxygen. Rodney set the rat down carefully, and then kneed him in the rump. Basil the naga slithered forward swiftly and gathered the rat into his arms, before retreating back behind DuWayne. Ivan the fox attempted to check on Rhett, but a long hiss from the naga forced him to retreat.

"I know, I know, you were hired to protect this little anthill because some bleeding hearts learned what we were up to, and they want to keep the tinies alive. You don't have to answer, just nod your head, but did you ask for the money up front? You and the naga are professionals, so I'm guessing yes. Now, this is my proposition for you." Rodney smiled wide, in the sinister way only he could do. Of course, considering his mouth, it was difficult to smile and not look like a monster. "Help us raze the city. Once it's all done, we'll give you each a good shiner and maybe break a few ribs. You can go back to whoever hired you and say you couldn't stop us, and you already have the money, so it's no big deal. We go back to who hired us and collect our payment. In the meantime, our respective factions get to enjoy a good old fashioned rampage."

Rodney's smile faded away. "The alternative is we simply kill each other, but considering only two of you are fighters, we already have the advantage. The choice is yours."

Rodney didn't wait for a response or answer. By their comically dumbstruck looks, he already knew what the other group would say. He pulled a pair of bolt cutters from behind his back and casually clipped the chain link fence. Without being asked, Basashi walked forward and gripped one side of fence. Rodney took the other, and together they pulled it wide, opening the city up to any who cared to pass inside.

The Zemeckises really were sister cities. Of course, the buildings were not exactly alike, but so remarkably close a tourist could find himself lost and not know which city he was in. "Basashi," he said, looking to the zebra. "Take tiny Ivan to the airport. Ivan, I want you to make sure that Basashi has some fun. Basashi, make sure our new friend doesn't come to any harm. These are dangerous micros, remember. For all we know, they have their own anti-macro technology. Valin, Blitz, make friends with Basil and Rhett. Start with the communications hub, and then head to the center skyscrapers. Remember, we're here to exterminate them all. Consider it an apology for almost killing the rodent. And... DuWayne, was it?" Rodney smiled. "Want to spend the day with me?"

Basashi was often amazed by Rodney, and always frightened. In the shark's eyes, everyone was a micro, everyone was just a toy to play with and manipulate. Basashi was not surprised by the curt, hesitant nods of the rival group. They were hired guns, just like Rodney and his team. As long as they were paid, and their reputation was left intact, they would do anything. He looked out at the tiny city, just like the one he had destroyed the prior day. Some part of Basashi pitied these micros. He mourned them, and all the horrible things that would be done. But another part of him thought fondly about what he had done the prior day, and all the fun he had had.

Without being told, each instinctively moved into the groups Rodney had assigned them. Valin, Blitz, Basil, and Rhett all headed for the center of the city, where the communications center stood tall and proud. Rodney and DuWayne exchanged macho glares and took a moment to puff out their chest, before heading towards ocean that made the eastern border of the city. That left Basashi alone with the fennec named Ivan.

Basashi was accustomed to being a giant among giants, but Ivan was absolutely miniscule. He only came up to Basashi's groin, even when standing straight. Basashi was also accustomed to others being intimidated by his stature. Even Blitz, who he had known for years, cringed if he raised his hand too quickly. For that reason, he was taken a little off guard by the fox's casual swagger as he drew near. He draped a little paw over his brow and stood as tall as he could. "Private First Class Ivan," he said. "At your service, sir."

Basashi wondered if Rodney was punishing him for something. With a shrug, he turned and headed for the airport. He trounced along casually, uninterested in the squat suburban houses that were crushed and demolished beneath his massive feet. The cars and tinies he stepped on were even less interesting, and if he didn't look down, he didn't notice them. His eyes were fixated on the airport off in the distance, nothing else.

"So, you're a professional?" Ivan asked. Basashi looked down to his side at him. Given the zebra's height and strength, he could carelessly demolish the buildings that were in his path. Ivan wasn't quite so built, and was clearly having difficulty forcing his way through the hip high apartments. He didn't think to simply walk behind Basashi, perhaps because he wanted to walk side by side with the zebra.

"A lifetime ago, I was a combat engineer, if you can believe that," Basashi said. "You?"

"Uh... funny story about that." The fennec gave a forced chuckle. "I've never actually served."

"Then what are you doing with the Doberman, kid?"

"Long story," Ivan said. "I just kinda tag along. I know he doesn't like me sticking with him, but he doesn't have the heart to shoot me in the head."

"Rodney is the same way, I like to think. The other interpretation of his character is I'm useful to him alive instead of dead. Ivan, why were you sent to stop us? What do you think we're doing here?"

"DuWayne doesn't tell me anything. We go here, do that. That's all I know. Sorry, big guy."

The entire city was in disarray of course, but the airport was a hub of panic as the streams and streams of micros attempted to escape in helicopters and planes. Like insects, they buzzed about Basashi's face, and the closer he drew to the airport, the denser the swarm became. He would be happy to let them fly away, but found the density detestable enough he began to swat at them as he walked.

Ivan, on the other hand, seemed intent on not allowing a single plane to escape his grasp. Dainty hands swatted the birds out of the sky furiously. Once he even tried snapping his jaws upon a helicopter, but that made the helicopter explode, and fire seared the inside of his mouth. He didn't try that again.

Basashi lifted a massive foot over one of the main buildings of the airport. He slammed his foot down, causing a kick up of dust and the whine of metal collapsing. Beneath his sole, he could feel miniscule bodies pressed up against the light layer of fur, and stopped his foot from lowering completely. For a moment or two, he just stood there, feeling the odd massage of tiny hands over his foot, before at last lowering his foot fully, and flattened it against the ground. "Gods help me," he muttered, "but I'm starting to enjoy this."

He looked to his side, and saw that Ivan was staring at him. One of the fennec's petite hands had slipped into his pants, and by the hazy gaze worn on his features, Basashi could imagine what he was doing. "Is it the micros, or me?" the zebra asked.

"T-truthfully..." Ivan stuttered. He smiled slightly. "It's you... Would you... maybe... like to... sit down?" he asked.

Basashi hooked his thumbs into his underwear and eased them down his long, thick legs. Instead of stepping out of his briefs, he allowed himself to fall backwards, landing on his rump and flattening whatever planes, buildings, or people happened to be beneath him. Although excited, the sheer weight of his erection caused it to lay on the ground before him like a third leg.

The sight of the erection that was larger than Ivan's torso was quite an intimidating sight. Soon, he hoped to take the shaft in its entirety, but for now, his eyes focused on Basashi's feet. Some small part of him actually wondered why a zebra should have feet instead of hooves. Ivan didn't really care, though. He liked feet, and Basashi's were quite gorgeous. While his legs were covered in soft, stripped, white fur, around his ankle, the fur shifted to short, black strands. His feet were as large as one would assume a zebra of Basashi's build would have, and quite broad. Crowning each massive sole were oddly adorable toes, five in total, like most creatures had. The soles were dotted with little crimson splotches from the tinies he had stepped on. On the heel of his left foot were the remains of a car he had flattened into a pancake.

It took both hands, but Ivan managed to lift the foot up to his face so he could better inspect it. He took his time looking it over, taking in every detail, and although he was aware Basashi was growing bored, he found it difficult to move any faster. Between Basashi's larges toe and the top bulb of the sole, Ivan noticed movement. Leaning closer, he spotted first an arm, then an entire torso and head as a micro who had somehow survived the stomping attempted to free himself. The toes wiggled, giving the micro a moment to free himself, but when the toes squeezed again, the poor micro's legs were trapped.

Ivan opened his mouth wide and exhaled. Struck by a gust of steam, the micro turned to the source, just in time to see the massive tongue and maw approaching. A pitiful scream emerged from between the titanic toes before Ivan brought the upper portion of the foot into his awaiting mouth.

A giggle slipped out of the zebra's lips. Ivan worked his tongue first over the upper part of the sole, and then danced over the tip of each of Basashi's toes. Last, he fished his tongue beneath the largest toe, and took hold of the pinned micro with his sticky tongue. Pulling his tongue back, he crushed the micro against the roof of his mouth before gulping the remains down. Easing his head back, he licked his tongue up the broad sole of the zebra's foot, savoring both the taste of micro blood and the flavor of the zebra's fur.

"Would you roll onto your front?" Ivan asked. "On your hands and knees, I mean. I don't mean to be giving you orders, I just... Uhm... I have an idea. And the shark did tell me to make sure you have fun... and..."

"Kid," Basashi said, and offered a casual smile. "Try to relax. I'm happy to do what you think is best."

Being so large, and absolutely brimming with muscles, Basashi was not particularly agile. Even rolling onto his front and pushing himself onto his hands and knees took some time, which Ivan spent gathering as many micros as his dainty hands could hold. It seemed despite the giants, the airport was where the micros sought to flee. It wasn't that strange either. There were so many micros, even if the entire squad was here, it seemed doubtful they could kill every one. All that Ivan really cared about was gathering a nice assortment. He picked up a large plane, and chomped off its nose, before dropping his handfuls inside, one at a time. When he had enough, he walked back to Basashi and sat down behind him, getting quite an eyeful of his backside.

"You... you're really... You're incredible," Ivan stuttered.

Basashi blushed. "I don't get that too much. Most people take one look at all eighteen hundred feet of me and get cold feet. Except Rodney. I think he likes fucking giants."

"I think I do too," the fennec said, and leaning close, planted a soft kiss on one of Basashi's buttocks. The zebra's tail abruptly smacked him on the snout, though he was not sure if it was an instinctual reaction, or an insistence to do something more. Ivan decided it meant the latter. Inside the plane, the micros were piled to capacity. There was no distinction in bodies. There was simply a flailing leg emerging from the furry mass, or an arm stretching out of one of the plane's broken windows, desperately reaching for freedom. Turning the plane carefully onto its side, Ivan poured a about ten or twelve tinies into his palm. Carefully closing his fist, he pushed his hand between the zebra's massive buttocks and against the warm, wrinkled skin of his anus.

Basashi's anus was naturally quite large, and with only a bit of pressure, Ivan's hand sank inside the warm cavern. The zebra's back arched suddenly and a "neigh" escaped him. Snorting steam, he looked behind him, and watched as Ivan pushed his hand deeper, almost up to the elbow, and still there was nothing stopping him. He hoped to reach the zebra's prostate, but doubted his arm was long enough. Opening his hands, he deposited the dozen micros inside the zebra's bowels. As he pulled his hand out, he kept his fingers splayed to tickle the yielding fleshy walls and used his claws to scratch. Snorts and neighs rippled out of the zebra as the bulk of the hand spread him, and then all the tinies inside his bowels continued to squirm and kick about. Another handful of tinies followed, though this time, Ivan pushed his arm up to the bicep, and finally hit the slimy wall of Basashi's prostate.

This time, Basashi screamed. His body was taken by a furious shudder and his muscles clenched so tight, Ivan was terrified his arm would turn to dust. He bit back his own scream (though his was in fear and pain,) and waited until the zebra had calmed down. Easing his fingers open, he deposited the micros inside, before slowly taking his hand out.

"You've never been touched that deep, huh?" Ivan asked. "Half your finger could reach my sweet spot, but I have to lose my whole arm to make you neigh."

Tears were streaming down Basashi's face. He could not believe the ripples of bliss that were running through him. Inside his bowels, it was humid and dark. The micros had no idea which way could reveal an exit, and were blindly slamming against whatever wall was closest. Ivan was right. He had never felt such a touch as this. He never even imagined such a pleasure existed.

"I'd really love to do it with you, but it would be like throwing a sausage down a hallway." Ivan leaned down, and kissed the buttock once again. "And you doing it with me would leave me torn up the middle. So I hope you enjoy this, big guy. And I hope you enjoy this too..."

There were about ten micros left inside the airplane, squirming deep in the back. Ivan gripped the plane by the wings and placed his lips right against the opening. Rolling his tongue out, he began to tilt the vehicle up slowly. The micros tumbled and twisted, smacking against the hard seats until hitting the soft, moist surface of the tongue. A few of the tinies slipped into his throat and squirmed all the way down into his belly, but he could feel more than half remain in his maw or in his cheeks. He threw the plane over his shoulder and lowered to his knees before the magnificent rump of the gigantic zebra. Prying the white, furry cheeks apart, he exposed the black crack, and quivering center vent, still flexing from the stimulation prior. There was a little white hand stretching out of the rolls and rolls of puckered flesh that made up Basashi's anus. Pressing his face into the crack, Ivan slipped his tongue against the rosebud and pushed the escaping tiny back inside.

The tickle on Basashi's rim was nothing new, though still fairly pleasant. Ivan had a good tongue, and happily plunged it in and out of the tight hole. The first batch of micros, who were only placed a little inside the bowels, kept trying to escape through the wrinkled hole of his anus. Again and again they were met by the colossal tongue. Scooping a few more micros from the pocket of his cheeks, Ivan pushed them into the pucker and filled the zebra just a little more.

It was the micros beating madly against his prostate that made Basashi's mind do somersaults, however. Tears of raw bliss streamed down his face. Nothing had ever touched him so deep, and now he had so much pressure pounding the slimy wall of his prostate, he almost couldn't take it. The rim job was simply icing on the cake.

Ivan left the zebra's side for just a minute, hunting for something to use, and at last found it in the form of a jumbo jet that just might be large enough for equine cock. Moving back to Basashi's side, he wrapped his arms around his neck and hugged him tight. "I know it's hard, big guy, I just need you get onto your knees. Can you do that for me?"

Tears were still trickling down the zebra's face as he braced himself on his hands. With a heavy grunt, he pushed off the ground and balanced precariously on his knees. Ivan smashed and tore the nose of the jumbo jet apart until a sizeable hole had been opened, and peered inside. It wasn't brimming with tinies like he would have liked, but there were enough. With Basashi's help, he was able to guide the erection into the jet's opening, though the very moment the squirming bodies touched the glans, the zebra became little more than dead weight. Ivan guided the jet as far onto the shaft as it could go, and then helped Basashi roll onto his back.

All Basashi could do was breathe through fatigued lungs and a parched throat. His glans and prostate were both deliciously massaged by the dozens of volunteers. Ivan threw a leg over his muscled chest and came to rest, belly to belly, with the zebra. His erection was pressed between his own belly fur, and the rocky chest of the larger male. Humping against the abdomen sated only a fraction of his aching lust. Wrapping one hand around his penis, he wrapped his other arm around Basashi's head and brought their lips together. Deep kisses were shared between them, and Ivan swilled his tongue about in the much larger maw.

Basashi grunted, and humped into the air. Resonating from the jumbo jet, one could faintly hear the panicked screams and shouts of the micros grow louder, before being replaced with lewd squishes. The thin windows that lined the jet cracked, and from out of them dribbled a copious amount of equine seed. Basashi whined and neighed as he humped into the jet, or passionately kissed Ivan back. Ivan's body contorted, and humping forward, into the soft white fur of Basashi's belly, he felt his testicles contract and a steady stream of white blob out. He buried his face in Basashi, tears streaming down his face now, as he humped and ground into the soft fur, releasing all his seed onto his mate.

Basashi's climax lasted far longer than Ivan's. In fact, even as Ivan settled down, seed was still pouring out of the zebra's cock like a fountain. The white that oozed out of the jet's windows took a crimson hue, until once again turning pure, musky white. As Ivan pressed himself up, Basashi's load continued to stream out of him, though he also recovered faster than the fox. He pressed his lips against the fox's face, before pushing him away gently. Although weak, he managed to stand slowly.

"By the stars," the fox muttered. He looked up at the zebra, and was relieved to see a smile spread across his long face.

"Thank you," he said. "But for now, we have a job to do."

Ivan nodded, and began to walk, looking for large groups of tinies or the largest planes to stomp beneath his feet. Basashi followed behind.

In another part of the city, Valin and Blitz had done their duty of knocking out the communications center, and were on their way to the denser business district with Rhett and Basil in tow. While Valin and Blitz were having the time of their life: stomping the tinies they came across, crushing cars and buses beneath attentive feet, Basil slithered and Rhett, still cradling his arm, walked slowly behind them.

"It's really your own fault," Blitz muttered. "If you're going to try to kill someone, you damn sure better kill them. You're lucky you went after Basashi. If you had gone after Rodney, he would have torn you apart."

The naga growled, and slithered forward, but Valin placed himself between the two. "We're all friends here," the monkey said. "Your group and my group, we're all friends. A broken arm will help sell the story that some random mercs overpowered your little team and went about razing this city. You can demand double hazard pay." Valin looked down, and spotted a bus desperately navigating the twists and turns of the city. Wrapping his dexterous toes around the bus as it passed by, Valin lifted it to his hands, and then held it beneath the naga's snout. "We're all friends, and there are plenty of morsels to go around." He swayed the bus beneath the naga's snout. "And for what it's worth, Basashi feels awful about hurting your mate, but for now, what do you say? Friends?"

Basil carefully took hold of the bus with both hands. Cocking his head to the side to better gaze through the window, he counted about fifteen micros packed tight inside. He glared at Valin, suspecting this might be some sort of trick, but Valin's attention was no longer on him. Instead, Valin and Blitz were both looking through the windows of an apartment building. When they found a particularly supple nest of micros, they punched their hands through the fragile façade and fished out as many as they could. They did not eat the micros they caught themselves. Instead, they made a show of feeding each other the little morsels, one by one. Basil hooked his finger into the roof of the bus and easily tore it away. After coating his finger in sticky saliva, he plucked three micros out, but instead of eating them himself, he slithered over to Rhett.

The great, serpentine body coiled twice around the rodent, before he came to Rhett's front and casually pushed him back. The first time they had tried this, Rhett's rodent instincts had overtaken him and he had nearly lapsed into a seizure. Now, he assumed a familiar, comfortable position of lying reclined on the layers of scales without so much as a whimper. Basil held up his finger and the three morsels struggling fruitlessly against the adhesive saliva. Rhett made a show of opening his mouth, reveling the pink cave and strands of drool that rolled down his teeth and lips in great drops. Upon placing the finger inside the mouth, Rhett closed his jaws slowly, sealing the micros behind the wall of teeth and fleshy lips.

Rhett spent moments suckling cutely on the finger. There were the tiny bumps of scales, and the slightly larger bumps of micros, both tickled his tongue in a pleasant way. When Rhett pulled his tongue back, he dragged the tinies with it. Basil closely watched the large bulge that ran down Rhett's white throat and disappeared into his chest. When he could no longer see the bulge, he estimated where the micros were traveling, until they reached Rhett's belly. Leaning down, he gave the rat's tummy a soft kiss.

"Here you go, little guy," Valin said to Rhett. Rhett looked to him, then looked to his hand, and noticed that Valin was offering another bus. Rhett took it greedily with his intact hand. He didn't even bother ripping the roof. Instead, he simply pressed the bumper against Basil's lips. Basil chuckled, opening his impressive maw wide and rolling out his long, serpentine tongue. Although he cringed when the oily taste of the bus' underside touched him, he purred with delight as the full weight of the vehicle settled inside his jaw. Clenching his teeth around it carefully to keep it in place, he reared himself straight and opened his jaws as wide as they could (which, for a naga, was pretty damn wide).

The headlights of the bus cut through the darkness inside the throat, illuminating the inevitable path of those trapped hopelessly inside. As far as they could see; everything before and around them was the fleshy, pink walls of the naga's throat, washing slickness over the bus' frame. At first, the bus' descent was slow, as metal on the fleshy insides caused friction. But as those trapped tumbled from their seats, shifting the weight of the bus to the front, and wash upon wash of drool dribbled over the sides, the descent became easier and easier, until the bus was in virtual free fall.

Upon slamming against the puckered sphincter: the entrance to the naga's stomach, those inside the doomed ride thought they might be safe. They stared out the front window and to the wrinkled skin, all that separated them from the entrapping doom of Basil's gut. The skin parted gruesomely, and once more the bus was in free fall. With a splash, it slammed into a pool of acid. Up above, the sphincter sealed shut, trapping them in the stifling air of the naga's belly.

"You are the most amazing creature I have ever seen," Rhett whispered, before leaning close and gently kissing Basil on the lips. Slipping his tongue into the naga's mouth, he could taste the remnants of the bus: oil, steel, the rubber of tires.

Blitz and Valin had taken turns knocking down buildings, forcing a nice, sizable amount of tinies to stream into the street. The first buildings they had knocked down were the ones at the corners, so when they fell, it cut off the street. The giants had their own little area to play with, without having to worry about their toys running away en masse. Of course, some micros managed to crawl over rubble to safety, but there were still such an enormous amount, the two were sure they could have some fun and games.

"Me first, me first!" Blitz said. "You got to go first last time."

"No I didn't," Valin snarled.

But Blitz had already planted his large rump down in the middle of the street. He cooed at the feel of little bodies and the odd car crushed under his ample posterior, and then under his legs as he straightened them out. His underwear was already off, so the pink girth was standing proud between his legs. He wiggled his hips side to side, giggling as a few of the micros who had survived between his buttocks were abruptly crushed by a thousand pounds of skin.

Valin gathered a hand full of micros and sat down before Blitz. "You owe me," he muttered.

Being a monkey, Valin's feet were as dexterous as his hands. It was how he was able to pick up the bus from the ground. Now, he cradled Blitz's testicles with the toes on his left foot. The toes on his right wrapped tight around Blitz's cock. A squeeze made Blitz gasp and groan, but Valin released the penis quickly.

Hand brimming with micros, Valin abruptly dumped them all into Blitz's crotch, burying him to mid shaft. Little giggles escaped him as tiny, beating hands added to the squeezing sensation of the coarse toes. Although Valin could feel a few micros wiggling beneath his feet, pressed mercilessly against the bunny's musky flesh, he made sure he didn't crush any. Not yet, at least.

Plucking one of the micros off the ground, Valin brought it to his eye. It was a woman, a chimpanzee, Valin believed, though it was difficult to tell with how small she was. Was it weird that he was holding a miniature version of his own species? Or was a normal sized chimpanzee being held by a giant?

He chuckled, and decided it didn't matter. He placed the chimpanzee woman carefully against the flailing, wide slit of the bunny, and before she could flee, Valin placed a fingertip against her back. The moist slit yielded as her body was pressed and she abruptly sank into the tube of slick flesh.

"More," Blitz whispered.

Squeezing the balls and stroking the shaft with his feet, Valin pressed his next two victims together. Their heads were stuffed into the hungry slit, and he placed pressure on their feet until only their legs were left outside the lips, kicking rather comically in the air.

"You like that, huh?" Valin asked. Squeezing the penis, he popped all the squirming tinies into goo, and began to stroke the erection up and down. The blood and gore of those burst was warm, though far cooler than the stifling shaft between the rabbit's legs. With the delicious friction, and cooling gore over his girth and glans, dribbles of warm white bubbled out of the widened slit. The cock was briefly corked as Valin stuffed a dozen micros into it, one after the other, forcing their bodies to compress and pile inside the flesh tube, but soon the pressure grew too great. A spurt of white and red gushed out of the cock, and the dribbles resumed as normal.

XXX

Pulling away from the kiss, Rhett looked into Basil's eyes. He planted one more kiss onto the naga's snout, before crawling backwards, off the long, serpentine body. If he pressed his large ear against the naga's gut, he could faintly hear muffled screams, along with the various noises of body. He longed to slip past the naga's lips and join the micros inside the warm sack, but had a better idea. Standing, he tugged at Basil's hand until the naga rose and followed after him.

Rhett led the naga to a tall, thin structure, an office building most likely, judging by the polished windows that adorned the front façade. Rhett was a bit taller, but that was only because of his oversized ears. The rat spent a moment looking at his reflection in the mirror, making a show of fixing his fur and straightening his shirt. He opened his mouth wide and slipped out his tongue, probably for no other reason than to terrify the micros inside. He even leaned forward and ran his tongue up the mirrored façade and acted as if it was the most delicious thing he had ever sampled.

Rhett's hands disappeared into his pants. Basil slithered behind him and rested his chin on the rat's shoulder. His scaly hands disappeared into the rat's pants as well, and several lewd moments were spent fishing about inside. The rodent's cock was already drooling. The underwear was soaked, and when Rhett pulled his hand out, he revealed the skin was coated in white goo. He dried his hand on the windows of the building before him. Unsure what Rhett had planned, Basil did the same.

"You still hungry?" Rhett asked. Leaning his head to the side, he planted a delicate kiss under Basil's jaw line.

"You're serious? You want me to eat a whole building?"

"It's about my size, and I know you can handle me. This time, you won't have to spit it back up. You can just enjoy the pleasant feeling of fullness."

Basil slithered to the side of the building, as Rhett continued to smear his seed over façade. Basil squeezed the base with his muscular body as he carefully fit his lips over the building's roof.

Rhett always loved watching Basil eat. He loved how the jaws opened almost three times their normal size. He loved how long, slender, hollow fangs stretched from his mouth. He loved all the drool that washed the slick throat and maw and dribbled down the lips. Basil was such an efficient creature. Everything about him was so perfectly proficient. From the great strength his long body possessed to the incredible flexibility... Rhett sat down on a squat, hip high building, a bank perhaps, and settled in to enjoy the show. His stomach rumbled, and he pressed a hand through a building at his side. When he pulled his hand out, there were five tinies clenched tight in his fist.

Basil carefully fixed his jaws on the top floor of the building. Although the structure was the same height as Rhett, and perhaps the same girth, it was boxy and unyielding, while the rat was soft and moved with the contours of his throat. Basil was not sure this was such a good idea, but he swayed his gaze and looked to Rhett, who was clearly enjoying it, and he did not want to disappoint. And, truthfully, there was such a thrill at the thought of eating a thousand micros, and the building they believed would protect them, all at once. With a deep breath, Basil squeezed the base of the building tighter, and stretched his mouth over the top two floors.

The taste of the building was not very pleasant. Unsurprisingly, it was like licking concrete. But occasionally, his tongue ran over a spot coated in Rhett's seed, and his mind did somersaults. His drool was beginning to wash over the building as well, making it easier for him to slide his maw over the windows. Suddenly, another floor had disappeared into the gently gripping muscles of his throat.

For those trapped inside the doomed structure, it was something out of nightmares. If they dared to peek their head out their windows, they would see the cracked lips of the naga gradually approaching their floor. Roll upon roll of drool ran down the side of the building, washing the windows as if it were in a rainstorm. Occasionally, the macro rat strolled forward. He had long abandoned his pants and, lower half bare, he smeared his drooling, dribbling penis against the windows of the building. Rubbing his cock gingerly, he squirted thick, musky blobs of white onto the façade, or rubbed himself against the building to coat it in his sweat and musk.

When half the building had been enveloped by the naga's gullet, Basil's body finally began to show signs of distortion. His neck and chest were stretched so wide from the significant girth housed within; the scales were actually parting, revealing the white skin that was so rarely seen. Although the micros inside tried to escape, his body was wrapped tight around the base of the building, sealing all exist behind a scaly, muscled wall. Vulgar gulps escaped Basil's throat as he continued to stretch his mouth forward, floor by floor, devouring the building in its entirety.

When over a third of the building had disappeared into the all-encompassing maw and silky throat, Basil squeezed the base. Walls crumbled to dust from the pressure, and those who had hoped to escape were crushed beneath collapsing rubble. Pushing his hands through the façade and bracing himself, he managed to uproot the entire structure. With great strength and dexterity, Basil braced himself on his coiled body and rose to his full height. With the walls of his gullet secreting saliva, and the building already drenched, it slid down the flexing tunnel with ease. Gulping furiously, Basil eventually fell to his back, his stomach showing a building shaped deformation pressing out of his scales.

Rhett was shaking as he walked forward. His fingers were firmly wrapped around his cock, though a steady stream of cream still managed to ooze out of his slit. He had cum a dozen times, watching the lewd display, though judging by the stained red pubic fur, he hadn't been masturbating alone. Carefully settling before Basil, he leaned down and kissed the stretched stomach. Just beneath the scales, he could feel the efficient body churning and squeezing on the contents housed inside. It would be hours, even days before the building was fully digested. Despite how pronounced a bulge was housed inside the naga's gut, Rhett still liked the thought of him being hungry. Scooping up a handful of micros off the street, he placed his dainty hand against Basil's lips. With only a token "I'm too full," Basil opened his mouth wide. From his vantage point, Rhett could actually see the tip of the building, trying to emerge back out the gullet. The screaming, shrieking, begging micros were placed on the naga's tongue before he closed his mouth and swallowed them, and the building, down.

In another part of the city, Rodney and DuWayne were trouncing their way through the densely packed suburbia, casually smashing houses and crushing cars and people beneath their feet. DuWayne insisted Rodney go first, and much to the Doberman's surprise, the shark went along without protest. Rodney had not bothered getting dressed, and completely nude, he happily stomped his way through the city, cutting a swath of destruction.

"You ever take one of these jobs before?" Rodney asked, as his foot stomped into a squat fast food restaurant.

"I usually prefer fighting someone who can actually fight back," DuWayne muttered.

"Heh, yeah. My guys are the same way. That's why I had to trick them." As his foot broke through the restaurant's roof, those that had been hiding inside came streaming forth in a single wave. Perhaps they hoped numbers would aid them, as Rodney could not possibly crush them all. If they looked up however, they would see Rodney was not even looking at them. He had already turned his attention to a grocery store. He swung his foot through the glass front, destroying the wall and the roof, and watched with a vicious grin as those tinies hiding inside streamed out.

Testicles and dual cocks looming, Rodney squatted above the crowd. He scooped them up carefully, and with both hands brimming, walked back to DuWayne. Like a toddler giving his father a birthday gift, Rodney held the handful under the Doberman's nose. "Drop your pants," he said.

DuWayne gave him a glare, but the shark seemed insistent. Eventually, he did as he was told. "What do you mean you lied to your team? What did you lie about?"

"I told them these micros were developing some sort of anti-giant weaponry. I can't believe they actually fell for it. Nothing complicated or heroic about this job. Someone wants this land, and they can't do it with the micros living on it. Basashi especially, but Blitz and Valin, they're not the kind who will happily smash and crush a bunch of tinies just for a paycheck. Deep down, they really do need some justification, or their bleeding hearts will keep nagging and nagging at them until they break down. Deep down, they're good people. And deep down, you and I aren't."

"You're a sociopath," the Doberman said with a deadpan expression.

"Yes, I am, but I can admit it. After all, you're here doing what I am doing, right?"

DuWayne continued to glare at the shark, but his gaze eventually fell to the micros held in Rodney's rubbery palms.

"What would a sociopathic fish do with this handful?" the Doberman asked.

Using his pinkies, the shark managed to hook the rim of DuWayne's underwear and pull it wide, exposing the doggy cock housed within. Rodney smiled. DuWayne was great at maintain an aloof exterior when exposed to violence, but he couldn't keep his erection down. Fully engorged, it looked painfully stuffed in the pants, and happily began to drool white when the pressure of the waistband was off it. Turning his hands down carefully, Rodney began to pour the micros he held into the fabric and flesh prison of the Doberman's underwear. The slick, rubbery skin of the shark's large hands offered no friction to those held. Their screams resonated wide as, one by one, they tumbled and fell into the briefs of the dog, who began to bark and pant at the feel of the squirming bodies against his flesh.

"Feels good, huh?" Rodney asked. "Not just the hands, but knowing it's a bunch of living creatures. Knowing that you're smothering them in your musk and against your flesh. Savoring the absolute power you hold over them." He eased the waistband closed. Red splotches began to appear on white as the pressure of the briefs became too great, and the little bodies inside popped, one by one. DuWayne actually felt the need to brace himself against one of the buildings as the warm blood washed his hot shaft.

He was aware that Rodney was behind him, and felt Rodney tug the back of his briefs, exposing his muscular buttocks. Something cool and blocky, a bus perhaps, was suddenly pressed under his stubby tail. With a finger on the rear bumper of the bus, Rodney pressed it against the puckered hole of the Doberman's anus, applying just enough pressure that it would smoothly slide inside the growling; barking dog's bowels at a steady pace. Lest he fall, DuWayne braced his upper body on the building before him. His paws, resting on the upper corners, shattered the glass and façade beneath them as pleasant tingles rippled through him. There were still micros alive in his underwear. Even as they drown in the blood of their fellows and the seed that was oozing out of his glans, they only beat against his flesh harder.

Rodney's fingers dug into DuWayne's buttocks and pulled them apart. Nestled in the glistening folds of his anus, the stark yellow and red flashing lights of the bus could just be made out. "Feels good, doesn't it?" Rodney asked. "Not as good as this will though."

Gripping one of his penises (for Rodney had two magnificent obsidian shafts stretching out of his sheath), he guided it between the taught butt cheeks and right against the puckered hole. While the bus had been cool and blocky against his anus, the shark's shaft was delightfully warm and just a little squishy. The glans pressed against the back of the bus, and the rear bumper and some of the door actually slipped into the fleshy slit. A gush of white exploded out of the cock, shattering the rear window of the bus and washing those inside with a gush of cream. With the hole already stretched by the blocky vehicle, it was easy for Rodney to push forward and slip his tip into the wrinkled skin of the anus. This pushed the bus deeper. One of the micros inside found the ignition, and frantically set the bus into reverse. The wheels spun furiously against the moist skin of the Doberman's fleshy bowels, but it had the opposite intended effect. The stimulation inside only made DuWayne clench suddenly. The bus was dragged deeper by the squeeze, and then was rammed from behind by the ebony shaft. Rodney humped again, driving his penis deeper inside the bowels and harder against the back of the bus. He could tell the exact moment the front bumper finally hit the Doberman's prostate, because DuWayne turned to jelly right before him. His erection, barely held inside the briefs, slammed against the building at his front. He had just enough strength to pull his underwear down and let his girth jut forward, before ramming himself against the building again. The sharp glass and concrete provided just a touch of relief to the pain that was inside him.

Humping forward, Rodney's penis broke through the back of the bus. He was rewarded with the feel of micros against his glans, a sensation that made his long tail wag and bat the buildings behind him. The bus was quickly filling with his seed, drowning the tinies who had no place to go with the thick, fleshy walls of DuWayne's bowels tightly squeezing from all sides and his pulsating prostate at their front. Rodney braced himself, and rammed again, driving his erection fully inside the bus and slamming his glans against DuWayne's doggy prostate.

DuWayne grunted. Humping forward, he drove his erection deeper into the building. The façade began to crack as his chest slammed against it. Windows shattered and broke. After a dozen humps, a blob of white exploded out of DuWayne's tip and sailed through the building's innards. Walls turned to dust as he humped and drove his cock in and out, spraying his seed into the building and demolishing anything in his path. He went still as he felt Rodney resume his own humps, and drive his cock mercilessly into the dog. Spurts were soon rippling through DuWayne's body. Rodney's other cock, despite the lack of stimulation, began to spurt and gush white as well, spraying the buildings before him and washing the streets in his musky goo.

The building before DuWayne suddenly tipped over. He fell with it, though managed to drop to his knees instead of landing flat on his front. He did try to get up, but a hand was suddenly at his nape, forcing him to all fours. Rodney was not finished, and gripping the dog's buttocks tightly, began to rock himself back and forth, slamming his tip against the dog's prostate again and again.

As the massive spurts finally began to die down, and Rodney's breathing began to level, he yanked himself out and tossed the dog down. DuWayne growled under his breath, and slowly got to his knees. He noticed a grey hand reaching down, and took it. Rodney helped him get to his feet.

"We may have another job like this one coming up," Rodney said. He looked over the fuming landscape of the city. There were still large pockets of intact buildings he would have to destroy before he could call the contract complete, but the day was still young. He looked back to DuWayne. "The treaties are getting annulled. Macros want the land we gave to the tinies, and there is good money to be made clearing out the infestation. Can I get your number for the next job? There are a dozen Zemeckises, after all."

Rodney offered his hand. DuWayne flexed his fingers, before taking the hand and shaking.