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Mess with the Beal

© Tsumi moogle '12 Characters © Themselves.

Coasting the car to a smooth stop and putting it in park, Julius sighed as he reached around to tug his backpack from the backseat, pausing to look at his younger sibling in the passenger seat. He didn't have to bring him, but he thought the smaller mog could do with some fresher air. ..At least, as fresh as could be offered out this way. Whilst in the midst of suburbia, it was still something of a frat house. Even from where they sat, parked on the street, they could see at least two windows with wisps of smoke licking out from under closed window panes.

'You sure you don't want to come up and hang with Max while we finish our project?' The ebon-furred moogle asked again, raising an eyebrow. Squirming some in his seat, Tsumi nodded.

'I'll be a nuisance. I think I'll just wander about, kupo.' the pink mog offered, smiling and leaning into the hand ruffling his long hair.

'Alright, but be careful. Don't wander too far, and don't bug anyone who doesn't want to be.' Julius said as they both hopped out of the car. Shouldering his backpack, the older mog stepped around to give the smaller male a hug, before padding up the overgrown lawn, to vanish up a staircase around the side of the house to the upper level.

Watching Julius' form, Tsumi smiled, before turning his gaze, about. The neighbourhood rather empty, aside from the houses. Not too many cars parked out front of the slightly unkempt accomodations. A sure sign of college students. So too, was the sudden roar of laughter coming out of one of the nearby houses. It was only really now that the mog noticed the thumping music coming from the next house over. Its large door open, and voices drawling and carrying on from inside.

His curiosity piqued, the mog padded along the broken-up pavement, passing the empty shed, and peering up to the house proper. Its maroon paint was faded, peeling in a few places. The guttering was a little thread bare, and in one corner had rusted away completely. There was a broad elm tree that was cut only so it didn't obscure the pathway to the front door, through which he could see several people inside.

Ever a little more than curious, the mog padded up the walkway, eying over the lengthy grass, with a beer can or two littered about. The porch held a broad, and rather abused looking old couch. Along with several stains on the hard-wood beams. Despite its age, the flooring didn't creak, showing suprising strength in the old building as the mog's sneakers passed over them. And sidling up to the door, his ears perked, and pom pulsing slightly to the bassy music, he watched the gathering inside.

There were at least five people that he could see. All of them, baring one, had horns, it seemed. A moose, with a broad rack of antlers, in a thick letterman's jacket and jeans. An ox, shirtless, showing off a broad, but definition-lacking torso. A boar, in a plaid shirt, open about a more defined torso, but a definitive beer-gut. A bison, his shaggy form in a polo shirt, and a cap perched oddly over his horns. The fifth, and the biggest of the group, at least from what the mog could see, was a bull. His form had unmistakable muscle, thick, and heavyset, but layered with rather ample flesh. The bull's belly sat peeking easily out from beneath a sleeveless shirt clinging desperately to his broad form, and framed by a plaid shirt, not dissimilar from the boars. Jeans seemed to be a standard among the house-mates, as did the laughter as they talked, and chugged away at broad cans.

There was something relaxed about them. Both in their mannerisms, and way of talking, that told Tsumi they'd been drinking for at least a couple of hours so far. A window-rattling belch escaped the boar, who laughed and puffed out his chest, only to be completely outclassed by the bull's muzzle opening to burp so hard Tsumi felt his feet rattle on the sturdy floor. The pink mog couldn't help a snicker escape himself, as the group roared with laughter.

The bison, sitting in a chair facing the hallway and front door, looked up, as he finished sipping his own drink. Tsumi, blinking a little, realised he'd been seen and gasped as the bovine got to his feet and began tromping towards the door. Stepping back, his ears laid, the boy expected the bison's eyes, albeit a little hazed, to narrow, before slamming the door. Rather to the contrary, though, the bovine stepped onto the porch, looking down to the mog.

He was -huge-. Tsumi, staring a little in awe, noticed those broad horns were probably missing the roof by only a matter of inches.

'S'up, Bran? Piss time already?' called a voice from the house. The bovine, grinning some, inclined his head. 'Lookin' to party, little man, c'mon in. Plenty of booze.' He said, ushering the pink form inside, and through his sheer breadth, prevented Tsumi turning about and stepping back out.

And with several steps, shadowed by the bison's much heavier ones, the mog found himself in the den with the huge males. They were all towering, even seated. They had to be near, or at least 8 ft tall a piece! The biggest though, was definitely the bull.

'Heey! Another one joins the party!' laughed the moose, reaching to pull a can from the cooler and reaching to hand it to the mog, who held it a little numbly. 'Jake.' The moose said. 'Parker' Said the boar. Tsumi could notice he had small tusks slightly protruding. 'Blake. Nice to meet you.' The ox reached, ruffling the mog's headfur, making the boy wriggle his tail. The bison, his ushering duty finished, returned to his spot on his couch, which groaned heavily for the immense weight settling on it. 'And as you prob'ly heard from Blake's earlier call, M'Bran. This here's Beal.' The bison reached over, thumping the bull's shoulder as the largest male downed an entire can in one go.

Stepping forward, the mog, still beaming wide, grinned up to the bull. 'Nice to meet you, k'po. I'm Tsumi-' His greeting was cut short, as Beal tugged the can from his lips, swelled out his belly, and belched with shocking force, right in the mog's face. Blinking a little, stunned, the moogle coughed for the thick scent before he became aware of the others laughing, and felt his face flushing. Grinning broadly, Beal tossed the can aside, reclining back on the couch, lowering a finger to play with his broad navel, just eying the mog over.

'Don' look like you party too often, pinky.' The bull chuckled, smacking his lips a little as the mog inclined his head. 'I'm just uhmm.. visiting for a little, kupo. What're you all celebrating?'

'Nothin' particularly' Bran grinned, standing up. 'Just a bunch of guys getting together, havin' a brew, and a couple of laughs.'

Beal nodded and started to ponderously get to his feet as well. Blinking for the males rising about him, the mog's ears twitched. Maybe they were going to dance. Though, he couldn't imagine an odder scene if he tried. They certainly didn't seem the sort. And it wasn't until he felt the bump of the Boar behind him, that he realised the entire party had gotten to their feet, and started stepping about him.

Blushing some, the moogle squeaked as he found himself surrounded by bellies on all sides. His face not even reaching the pecs of the shortest in the group; the ox.

'S'good to have someone smaller here.' Rumbled the ox, grinning as he bumped his belly against the mog, pushing him some against the boar's squishy gut. 'Makes the party more fun.' He chuckled. Tsumi could only squeak, as the belly squished and ground against him, momentarily smothering his burning face, permitting him to hear, under flesh and thick fur the gurgling of the ox's stomach working away on who knew how many beers.

'He's just about the right size.' chuckled the moose as he bumped the ox back, and pulled the moogle against his gut in turn, hugging his face against the soft flesh, letting the boy's form indent into his navel a little, before the pink-boy's hands lifted to push himself back, gasping and blushing heavily.

'I dunno.' The Bison smirked, watching the moogle step back from him cautiously, and unintentionally pressing back against Beal's broad belly. 'I think it might be a bit too easy.' He licked his lips lightly, making the moogle incline his head in confusion. Looking between the grinning faces, he squeaked, as Beal's broad hand lifted, pressing the boy's face to his pillowy gut, rumbling lowly.

'Hrrr.. I'm sure he'll love it anyway. You any good at wrestlin', kid?' He asked, smirking as he buried the moogle's muzzle into his musky navel, teasing himself, as much as the boy as he held the boy in place, wriggling his small, tufted tail.

'What are you guys doin'? Came another voice. Tsumi's ears perked, his face as red as a tomato as Beal's hand lifted to toy with one of his slightly floppy ears. Tugging his face back and gasping some, he watched the bison step aside, revealing a human of all things, looking over the collection of bovines. He had a very dry look on his face, as though expecting something juvenile. In a simple T-shirt and jeans with a fresh slab of beer over his shoulder, and unlike the bovines, was only a head or so taller than himself.

'Jus messin' around, Trev'.' Chuckled Beal. About him, the others had started to move. Beginning to push the assorted, mis-matched furniture against the walls, and moving the table, leaving a broader space in the middle of the den as Beal smoothly tugged off his shirt, and with some difficulty, tugged the snug undershirt off his rounded pecs.

'Oh guys come on, that's not fair at all. He's a kid!' Trevor said, shaking his head as he put the slab down and opened it, starting to put the cans inside in the cooler.

'Ah he'll be fine!' Bran grinned, waving a hand. 'Y'wanna play, kid? Beal's got a thing fer wrestlin'. We all do.' he winked lightly.

Even burning faced, and blushingly embarressed as the mog was for the teasing torture the group had put him through, Tsumi found himself to be having a good time. Unable to help the sheepish smile on his face, he nodded, earning a bolstering cheer and chuckle from the group.

Already, Beal was stooping down across from him, watching him with a rather clear gaze for someone who probably had a half gallon or so of booze settled inside him already. The boar gave the count-down, Tsumi blinking as he stooped a little as well, flicking his ears, as bolstered as he was, the logistics of what he'd gotten into, suddenly came to mind.

The gathered bovines simultaneously called out 'Ding!' And Beal was up like a shot.

The bull, grinning wide, grabbed the mog in his broad arms, and maneuvered him about. Turning him upside down and grinning, he hugged the boy to his chest and belly, his face smooshed into the broad gut, before he dropped on his broad rump.

The lurch of vertigo made Tsumi struggle in the broad-armed embrace, that thick musk pressed to his muzzle, before Beal's immense weight landing, shook the house to its foundations.

Rattled, the mog found the bulls arms releasing him, and toppling to the floor, he got up with a little stumble, trying to grasp and grapple the bull's shoulders. His hands managed to get there at least, but as hard as he tried, putting all of his weight into it, he couldn't budge the huge bovine. The others cheered him on, grinning and laughing as Beal began leaning himself forward. His form knelt, his arms moved to slowly grab the mog's form, and then, with a roll of his ponderous bulk, Beal surged over the mog-boy. His gut all but enveloped the boy's legs and hips. His smooshy chest pressed to the mog's, and his broad face grinned over the moogle's panting, struggling form. The weight was rather intense, but by no means painful. The bull wriggled some, grinning as he ground himself on the mog, rumbling and eliciting a faint moo of pleasure.

Tutting, the human, Trevor apparently, stepped past, his sneakers brushing the moogle's pom. Sitting at the couch, he cracked open his beer, starting to sip, grinning despite his facade of disdain. Shaking his head as the boar dropped to the floor, starting a count down for the pin.

Tsumi gasped, struggling against the broad weight keeping him all but pinned to the floor. The Bull's panting breath tinged with booze wafting over his face as Beal grinned lazily.

'And it's all over!' cried the Boar, chuckling as he stood back up. 'Beal, claim your prize!' He smirked, taking a seat and watching as well as the broad bull smeared his tongue over the mog's face.

'Hey, Beal, that's enough. I don't think you should-' Trevor started, only to have the Moose's hand clapped over his face.

Tsumi blinked, 'ewww!'ing for the thick, hot tongue slathering over his face. Conforming to every curve and matting his fine facial fur down, leaving a thick trail of beer-tanged saliva along half of his face. He squeaked as the bull percolated another ground rumbling belch over him, before starting to lean back up.

His arms followed, holding the mog to him, grinning some as he adjusted his grasp. Broad, sausage-like fingers grasping the boy's arms to his sides as he started to lift him. Another swipe of the thick tongue making the moogle squirm.

'Hurr.. I must be drunker than I thought.. You taste like.. strawberries, kid.' Beal rumbled, grinning faintly, before beginning to yawn his jaws open. 'Uhmm.. N-not really, kupo. I actually taste like-' Tsumi said, cut off when those looming jaws, he had thought to be priming another belch, instead yawned wider still, eclipsing most of his vision. He could only manage a squeak of confusion to the tail end of his sentence, before the great jaws, filled with those broad teeth, closed over his head and sealed about his neck. The bull continued slopping that great tongue of his about the delectable visitor's head and face, letting out a muffled 'mroo' about his gob-stopper, and began pushing the short male inwards with a lazy swallow.

The other broad bovines cheered him on, as Beal smoothly got to his knees, and precariously to his feet. Stooped, and with his expansive denim-clad rump exposed to Trevor on the couch, He leant back, making the human, busy rolling his eyes, yelp as the bull's immense weight sank him down into the time-and-butt abused couch cushions. Pressed in place by his room-mate's massive form, Trevor struggled, able to hear each of Beal's laboured swallows, and pleased rumbles, amidst the thick glorps and burbles of his rounded gut.

Tsumi meanwhile, scrambled and yelped in that thick, slimey grasp. A gullet, dragging him down with ease, whilst Beal's big, rounded, and rather harmless seeming jaws walked over his torso, and smoothly past his hips. His tongue, ever in motion, continued its awkward slathering, tasting drunkenly over the mog's body as it was drawn inexorably in. The boy's legs were lifted. One ankle held by the moose, and the other by the boar, the group of them chanting over the largest member of their group. 'Chug! Chug! Chug! Chug! Chug! Chug!' And urged on, partially by the calls, but mostly by his four eager, and beer-filled bellies, the bull swallowed, until his mouth yawned, and dragged the moogle's pivoting shoes past his lips, and over the back of his tongue.

Licking his lips, Beal groaned fondly. He watched hazily, grinning at his handiwork as he made out the muted bulges of the mog-boy inside him.

He paused though, grinning as he felt Trevor's form still struggling against his back, and momentarily lifted himself, to drag the red-headed human out from under him, and over his lap.

Coughing some, Trevor's reddened face looked up to Beal over his distended gut, shaking his head with a moody huff.

'Beal! You shouldn't have done that! What if someone comes looking for Mmph!' His words drowned out as the Bull cupped a thick hand behind the human's head and pressed it, sank it into his swollen stomach.

Trevor blushed, if possible, harder, struggling as the bull rumbled pleasedly and continued to rub his face against his gut. Feeling the mog boy inside struggling in his first stomach, sloshing amidst a pool of booze, whilst Trevor's hands tried to push himself back enough to draw air. Finally relenting, the Bull moved his hands, to tug the human onto his lap, smooshing his pillowy gut against Trevor's torso, letting the struggling bulges grind against his smaller friend.

'I'm serious Beal! You could get in trouble!' Trevor said, unable to help himself from rubbing that gut, kneading against it and being hugged in turn against the rounded mass which struggled all the harder.

The bull paused to consider this a moment. He leant down towards Trevor's face, grinning in that dopey manner of his, before belching wetly in his face, leaving several splatters of saliva on his room-mate's face.

The human's protests and arguments were drowned out by the other huge males laughing, and all but getting back to drinking and talking. Within the bull, Tsumi struggled, scrambling in the steamy heat of the Bull's heavy body. The pillowy walls compressing in around him, slickly grinding, churning, percolating large bubbles in the mess of booze he was sat up to his chest in. Whimpering nervously, he pressed about, crying out for help, though over the thump of the heavy heart somewhere above him, the occasional belches that rattled his form like thunder, and the hearty laughter, he was certain no one could hear him. Continually churned over, the boy squeaked, as every so often, more beer would join him, a shock of cooler fluid rushing over his head and making him splutter as he pressed about, feeling the odd sensations of someone rubbing over him -through- the stomach walls.. The smaller size of the hands suggesting it was that human...

After several hours more boozing, raucous laughter between the large males, and a couple of massive pizza orders (The delivery boy of which may or may not have ended up in a similar position as Tsumi, within the Ox.) Beal paused mid-sip of his beer, as his stomach made an audible noise. Different to the languid glorps and gurgles it had made over the entireity of his visit, it seemed to make him wince, and grunting, he put the beer down, scooped Trevor off his lap to stagger dopily towards the back door.

The other room-mates, blinking at the sight, grinned to one another and followed keenly, watching as the bull drunkenly fumbled with his belt-buckle, and tugged his jeans down.

Resting his broad hands against the wall, the bull panted, groaned a little, and bore down. The pressure building inside him, as struggles began renewing. The moogle had after a good hour or two, quitened down, to be taken on the trip of his little life. Dragged through several stomachs, as was natural of a bovine. Shaking a little and bowing his head, Beal groaned and widened his stance as his broad rump spread. The moogle's head wringing between the thick, smooshy cheeks, gasped and spluttered in the cool night air, wincing his eyes open to see the world hanging upside down, with Beal's tail flicking over his head.

By now, the sky was dark, the stars were out, and a number of nearby houses had their lights on. Disoriented as he was, he had no idea of the time, but no doubt Julius was out looking for him, worried sick.

The moogle's thoughts were distracted as Beal's inner walls clenched, and smoothly began squeezing his form out, and the air out of his lungs. His shoulders and chest squeezing free making the bull elicit an audible groan, bordering a great moo as Beal stooped further.

Gasping out, the mog groaned, his arms trapped to his sides still as he continued struggling. His form grinding against the thick flesh of the bull holding him. With the blood rushing to his slightly pounding head, disoriented from the thick fumes of beer as it was digested around him, the mog was spared the laughs of the bull's room-mates as they watched the sight of the burly male squeezing the smaller free from his backside.

And as a breeze blew over the yard, the mog gasped, realising that beside his fur, and a slight coating of what beer had slipped through with him, he was entirely nude. The bovine's stomach had digested the clothes off of him, but left him intact. More than likely because he wasn't grass.

As his hips slid past the tight ring of Beal's rump, his own weight did the rest of the job in freeing him, and dragged him out, slumping into the grass with a groan, spluttering as the world steadily reoriented itself wound him. Shivering and groaning, he tugged his feet free with weak pulls, and sprawled in place, gasping. His over-warm body ached for the hours inside that thick, churning machine. Like he'd been put through the washing machine several times over. He could only groan, whilst Beal panted, licking his lips and beginning to tug his pants back up. Grinning to his friends, he lifted his arms in triumph, earning a last raucous cheer before they began walking back inside, chuckling and talking among themselves.

Beal however, smirked and stooped to the moogle.

'Hurr. Feel free to come party with us again sometime, pinky. Y'feel good in my gut.' He belched again, before getting to his feet and tromping after his friends.

With his cheeks burning, the moogle pined faintly, before another set of footsteps brushed through the grass. Lighter than the others. He expected the human's voice next. Hoped, at the very least, for a hand up.

'Have fun, bro? I didn't think you were the partying type.'

Tsumi's eyes fluttered open, staring up to the raised eyebrow and faintly expectant smirk of his sibling standing over him.