FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

Well Met

By: RabidChipmunk

CW: M/M, feral/human, unwilling fatal vore, teasing, cruelty, shrinking, and digestion.

~

Some days lend themselves to descriptions while others seem to skirt around them. These are the kinds of days the air has no tangible feeling. No wind, a temperature not particularly hot or cold, enough cloud cover to soften the light but not enough to remind of rain. Days that feel like water tastes; impossible to describe but nevertheless exactly right.

As you might have guessed, today was one of those days.

Marc hadn't really planned this trip but he'd found himself lulled awake by his neighbor's screaming newborn this morning at the wonderful hour of 5AM and decided to make the most of it. He fancied himself a photographer, he had all the gear and knew how to use it, but didn't usually make the time to put it through its paces. City life didn't afford him many opportunities. Street photography was great for some, but to him it just felt awkward and invasive. It made him feel like a tourist. He liked the solitude of nature. No one to rush him along or stare as he set up his shots, and no confrontations with unwilling subjects. So although the drive through the city and out to the woods took a good 4 hours, he was excited to stretch his photography muscles again.

Marc had been stomping around for a good few hours and this fox was the first larger animal he'd come across. Crouched inside a bush behind a log, Marc's legs were going prickly and he was more than a little aware of a line of ants that had begun to find their way inside his left pant leg, but he kept absolutely still. The animal was no more than 10 feet away and it was hunting. These were the sorts of shots worth suffering for.

The fox, ears cocked, staring straight ahead, paused its slow creep through the brush. Marc readied his camera. The fox twitched forward once... twice... Marc's finger lay just above the shutter release. The animal popped up into the air and the soft sound of the camera's rapid click started up, following along with the fox as it arced down back to earth. For a moment, all that was visible of the animal was a slight twitch of its tail. After a few seconds it resurfaced, mouse in jaws. Marc held his breath and kept the shutter rolling as the fox stared him seemingly dead in the eye. The tiny grey mouse twitched in a futile attempt to escape, its even tinier mouth open wide as it gave off tiny shrieks. The fox paid it no mind. Still staring straight at the bush where Marc lay, it flipped its orange head back and sent its captive careening back into the fleshy depths of its maw. The mouse was pushed completely in with one more flick of the jaws. The teeth closed around it and cut it off from the world. The fox took one more gulp and the mouse was gone.

Amazed at the shots he was getting, and with the fox seemingly un-spooked, Marc made the decision to switch lenses to try for a portrait. Although out of practice, his hands remembered what to do and he'd only looked away for a few seconds before getting back into position, but by the time his lenses were swapped and he was ready to shoot again, the fox was gone.

He waited another few minutes, just in case the animal had dipped back under the brush but there was nothing, not a hint of movement. Marc sighed. He knew he'd gotten some incredible photographs but he still couldn't help but be disappointed. Who knew when he'd get another chance like that one. At least he was now free to stand up, re-distribute blood to his legs, and swat away the non-trivial number of ants trying to make their way inside his clothes. As he was finishing up his nature dance and hoisting his pack back on, Marc heard a voice.

"Quite the show wasn't it?"

The voice was unnatural. The words and enunciation were clear but they came from somewhere deep inside the body; pushed out from the gut, wet. They oozed initially but broke into an even rasp as they lingered outside their speaker's jaws.

Marc started and turned around. He had expected to see a man but instead he found himself staring straight down at the fox from earlier. It spoke again.

"I don't usually eat with an audience, unless you count the food itself."

Marc continued to stare.

The fox grinned, "Oh, I suppose sneaking up on someone is a little rude, isn't it? I'd introduce myself although at this point I'd say you're much more familiar with me than I am with you so I think it's only fair that you go first."

Marc took a deep breath and rubbed his eyes, "I-I'm... uh... my name is Marc."

"Ah, pleasure to meet you Marc," said the fox. "I'd offer you my name in return but alas, I don't have the luxury of being called anything other than what I am."

"Uh... yeah, n-nice to meet you too."

"Marc I know you're a bit surprised but do try not to stutter, it doesn't suit you." The fox stepped closer, "You're larger than me so you really have no reason to feel intimidated. Imagine if I'd wavered in front of my little mousey snack just a moment ago. That wouldn't have made for a very impressive picture, would it? In nature... dominance is everything."

Marc was silent.

The fox looked pleased with himself and continued to speak. "Well, I suppose that could be interpreted as stoicism at least. Marc, I'm afraid I must be going. You're welcome to join me, of course, but it's really up to you."

And with that, the fox slipped off into the trees. Marc wasn't exactly sure what was going on, but he knew there wasn't much time to mull it over. He had a choice to make, but it didn't feel like much of a choice at all. It wasn't very often that you met a talking fox, he knew that much, and so without more than a couple of seconds of thought, Marc followed.

~

He couldn't say exactly how long he'd been chasing after the fox, but Marc imagined it must have been a few hours at least. He was hungry and thirsty and in his rush to not lose track of his new friend, Marc had left his pack behind. Following the fox was tough going. The animal was smaller than Marc and could slip through the dense woods with ease. At first Marc had just been following along out of curiosity, but at this point it was more out of desperation and survival. He had next to no idea where he was and he knew that if he lost track of the fox, he'd likely not find his way out of these woods before dark. He had no idea where the fox was leading him but anywhere was better than nowhere.

The other thing that had begun to wear on him was that the fox had not spoken to him again since they set off. In fact, Marc had begun to wonder whether or not he'd really heard the animal speak at all. His one comfort was that although the fox did not wait for Marc, it did not seem to be trying to get away from him. In these woods a fox would be able to lose someone of Marc's size with ease, but this one never quite slipped out of sight. That, at least, was peculiar.

Over what Marc imagined must have been the past few miles, the woods had begun to grow darker and although the foliage was dense and the sky obscured, a breeze had begun to pick up and the air grew colder. He'd packed a jacket but it was of course back with all the rest of his gear. Thankfully, the quick pace needed to keep up with the fox kept Marc warm enough.

Woods have a smell to them, rich and earthy. A deep, organic, living, smell. These woods were no exception but the smell was growing stronger than Marc had ever experienced it before. The very air around him had begun to feel alive. Each breath he took made him feel like he was inviting the woods into him. He breathed in what the woods breathed out and Marc was starting to feel lightheaded-drunk. He'd no idea how long he'd been running for. He hadn't even realized that he was running before this moment. His body ached. He was hungry and thirsty and tired and he was sprinting and it was hard to breathe. He could barely see where he was going, barreling towards the faint tufts of orange fur that occasionally peaked out in front of him. Branches scraped along his face and arms. Leaves stuck to his hair. Sweat bled through his pants and weighed him down. He closed his eyes and he flew.

When he opened them again, Marc found himself face down in the dirt. He groaned and turned himself over and found himself eye to eye with the fox.

"Welcome back, Marc," said the fox. It gave him a single, slow lick across his left cheek, "I'm glad you could join me."

Marc sat up, "Where are we?"

"Nowhere in particular."

"But... I thought you were taking me somewhere."

"Why would you think that?" The fox chuckled, "And why would that matter?" He circled around to Marc's left and nodded towards a small pool of water. "I'm sure you're thirsty. Here, drink."

As much as Marc was annoyed at the fox's response, it was hard to argue against having a drink. He stood up and plodded over to the pool. The water was still and there was no clear runoff to have filled it up. He was always wary of drinking unfiltered water in the woods, especially still water, but he had to drink something, and he supposed the pool could be fed by an underground stream. As the fox watched, Marc brought his face to the pool and drank deep. The water tasted good, certainly not stale as he had feared, but it was cold as ice and he felt it flow through him as he drank. It seemed almost as if it didn't stop in his stomach but continued to course through to the tips of his toes. He sat back and shivered.

"Good?" The fox asked.

"Very good."

"You can close your eyes if you'd like. It might help."

"What do you mean?"

The fox nuzzled into Marc's side, "It's a lot to handle, just relax."

Marc felt his body begin to tingle. It started in his stomach and slowly worked its way outwards, mirroring the water's chill. The clearing seemed bigger than it had before.

The fox put one paw on Marc's chest and gave it a firm push. "Just lie down. It'll all be fine."

Marc was surprised by the force the animal exerted and found himself lying face up on the dirt floor. His clothes felt looser than he'd remembered. He felt a little outside himself, but it felt good. The fox nuzzled its head against Marc's. The fur was soft and Marc could feel the warmth of the animal's skin beneath it. Marc felt the organic wetness of the fox's breath as it whispered in his ear, "Relax. Listen to my voice. Feel the dirt beneath you. Just lay back and let it take you. Just... relax..."

Marc's heart started to beat faster. Something wasn't right. As he stared upwards the trees seemed to be moving further away and the fox's presence grew by the second. He wanted to leave. He tried to stand up but felt the weight of the fox's paw force him back down.

"Marc, just calm down. No need to make this harder than it needs to be."

He was really concerned now. The paw against his chest was massive, like a lion's. No fox was this large. He wanted to stand up. He had to stand up and go. His breathes grew louder and his entire body shook but the paw held him firm.

The fox continued to try and soothe him. "Shhhhh.... shhhhhh", he whispered. "It'll all be over soon, it'll all be OK. I promise. Everything's fine, Marc. Just relax."

The fox's voice was louder now. It had always seemed louder than should've been possible, but now it was practically flowing through him. When the beast spoke, Marc didn't just hear it, he felt it. He felt the vibrations of the creature's voice roll over him. He felt the power it had. His heart kept pumping but his body lost its will to fight. The paw, now nearly covering his entire chest, released him. Marc closed his eyes.

The voice grew louder still, "Good boy. Good. Feel yourself slip away. You're a part of these woods now, Marc. Let them take you."

He kept his eyes closed for what he imagined was a few minutes more, all the while the fox watched over him and spoke soothing words. Marc knew at this point he was shrinking, though he didn't quite believe it. As the tingling began to subside, he realized he was no longer laying on the dirt, but inside a tent of cloth. Marc opened his eyes and saw the blurred form of the fox standing over him, peering at him through his cotton prison. The form began to shift and Marc felt the cloth slide away. The shirt was lifted up and Marc, unable to find purchase, tumbled naked to the dirt below.

Shaky, he stood up and turned around. Marc was now roughly the size of a mouse and the fox towered over him. He let out an involuntary whine.

The fox brought his head down to Marc and grinned. Marc had never felt so intimidated in all his life. The sheer power of the creature in front of him in comparison to his own was incredible. He was frozen in place and found himself unable to move as the fox's warm breath washed over him.

"Oh Marc, just look at you," said the fox. "I feel like I'm meeting you for the first time." He opened his massive jaws and gave Marc a slow lick. The tongue scraped over Marc's entire body and covered him in a thick coat of drool. He could hear the fox gulp down his flavor as its tongue retreated back into its mouth.

"Mmmm, well met, Marc. I mentioned earlier that I do not have a name, but I feel now that I should give you something to think of me as other than 'the fox', seeing as we're about to get very acquainted with each other. So I think..." the fox licked his lips, "I think you might as well consider me your god."

Marc could barely open his mouth but he felt compelled to. "Ah-ah... oh no no n-no."

"Ah, Marc... what did we say about those stutters?" The fox smiled, "Of course, seeing as you're the smaller creature now, I guess it's more appropriate."

"What are you going to do to me?"

"Shhhhh... Marc hush. It'll all be fine, don't worry. We're going to get through this together."

The fox lifted one of his massive paws and brought it down on top of Marc's head and chest. The leathery pads were smooth against his bare skin and the fox's scent was overpowering. Marc's eyes were blocked but he could still hear his captor speak.

"How does it feel, Marc?" The paw moved slowly back and forth, kneading him into the ground, "How does it feel to be so powerless? To be at the mercy of something so much greater than yourself?"

Marc tried to scream out, but the paw muffled his voice.

"Marc, shhhh. There's no use screaming. You saw how much good it did that mouse I caught earlier."

Those words pierced him like an arrow. He knew he was in trouble but he hadn't stopped to really consider the extent of it. The fox was going to eat him, there was no doubt in his mind, and there was nothing he could do. Absolutely nothing.

The paw lifted but the smell remained. He felt like he belonged to the fox, like he was part of him. He tried to stand up. A massive paw slammed against his left side and Marc felt the wind leave him. He tumbled off a few feet and landed, crumpled, in a pile of leaves. Before he could even take another breath, the fox was back on him. Another paw slammed down on his back, pushing him into the ground, and he felt the fox's stale breath wash over him as it lowered its face in front of his own and spoke.

"Don't make the mistake of thinking you can get away, Marc." The fox hissed, "This isn't about you anymore. I own you."

The paw lifted off him again and Marc gasped for breath. Nothing felt broken but the swipe had left him badly bruised. That is, it would leave him badly bruised assuming he'd be around long enough for any bruises to form.

The fox spoke again. "Marc, none of this should shock you. You know what happens next, you're a nature photographer, after all. This isn't violence, this is life. But..." The fox pushed his nose right up against Marc's body, "I'm going to offer you a courtesy I don't usually afford my prey. Would you like to ask me what that is?"

"W-what is it?"

"I want you to tell me, Marc. Would you rather go down in pieces, or should I swallow you whole?"

Marc's stomach dropped. What kind of a choice was that? How could he possibly answer a question like that?

"Time's ticking, Marc. If you don't answer then I think I might as well take my time ripping you apart." The fox extended a single claw and ran it along Marc's chest, "It's been a while since I really took my time playing with a meal."

"No!" Marc shouted, "Oh God, no! No no no!"

"Marc, you have to choose. You can't just yell. What would you like me to do with you?"

"Please, anything but that. Don't tear me to pieces, please."

"Marc..." the fox sighed, "Marc I did not ask you what you don't want. I asked you what you do want. Now I won't ask you again, what would you like me to do with you? I want to hear you say it."

"I-I want you to..." Marc felt a shiver flow through him, "I want you to swallow me whole... like that mouse."

The fox grinned wider than he had all day. "Oh Marc, I'd love to. I think it might feel nice, don't you?" He gave Marc another lick, slower than before, "Imagine sliding down my throat. Imagine sinking down deep inside of me. My heartbeat lulling you towards your final sleep. You'll be a part of something great, Marc. You'll love it."

The fox opened up his massive jaws and yawned. His tongue curled outward and his throat opened up, pink flesh fading into black. Marc could only watch in terror as the jaws clicked shut just inches in front of him before opening back up and moving in closer than they had before. They enveloped him. The tongue worked its way underneath his body and coaxed him in while the teeth clamped down firm and held him in place. Marc felt the sickening feeling of vertigo take hold as the fox's head lifted him up off the ground.

He had been licked by the animal several times, and pinned underneath its paws several more, but being inside of its mouth was a new level of terror. Whereas before he had felt powerless and toyed with, Marc now felt completely inhuman. He truly felt like a piece of food.

The fox didn't swallow him immediately. The tongue slid under him and pressed against his naked body, tasting him, as the fox sucked down the flavor-soaked saliva. As the fox suckled him, Marc found himself wishing he was a mouse. The fox had at least made quick work of that creature, there was no teasing there. It wasn't fair. It wasn't fair that he was made to suffer more than a mouse. It was if the fox was feeding off his fear and suffering just as much as his body.

Of course, as much as Marc wished for the swallowing to start, he wasn't prepared for it. He felt the fox flick back its head and he stifled a scream as the fleshy organ beneath him shifted and coaxed him deeper into the fox's jaws. It felt unreal. He wanted to be anywhere other than here. Marc could see the darkness of the fox's throat calling to him and he knew that once it had grabbed him, it would not let go. The fox swallowed again and this time Marc's scream wasn't stifled. Now covered entirely in drool, there was nothing he could grab hold of. Even if he wasn't afraid of the gnashing teeth, there was no way his tiny fingers could hold onto those slicked up pearls.

Now that he was nearing the back of the tongue, things were looking even more hopeless. The tongue was thicker here, and the saliva coating it had a higher concentration of mucus. As the fox swallowed a third time, Marc felt his right leg sink into the grip of the throat. The esophagus took hold and began to tug him down all on its own. He tried desperately to resist but he couldn't budge. Marc was exhausted, lightheaded from the stale air, and cinched firmly in place by a prison of flesh and bone. His face was smooshed into the fox's tongue but he could still make out his surroundings enough to see the jaws close around him. The light began to fade and the pressure around his body increased as the available room diminished. He was forced against the roof of the mouth, only a faint sliver of light sneaking in between the fox's not-quite-closed lips. The sounds were more intense now, too. Marc was hyper aware of the sound the fox's drool-slicked tongue made as it slid around him. Wet meat sliding against itself and him.

The fox swallowed a fourth time. Marc's world shifted downwards again and only his head remained in the mouth. The rest of his body was firmly in the grip of the animal's throat. It was all he could do to breathe. His chest felt crushed and a firm layer of mucus covered his face. The fox's jaws closed completely and it swallowed one last time. The back of the tongue pushed against Marc's face and sucked him down. He was now inside the blackness he so desperately feared. Every inch of him was covered in slime and pressed against pulsating flesh. He couldn't breathe.

He sank and the concept of time ceased to exist. All Marc could think about was how long it would take for them to find his gear. Would anyone guess what had happened to him? How could they? What would everyone think? Would they find his clothes deep within the woods, or would those too be lost forever?

These thoughts were interrupted as the world opened back up beneath his feet and he began to spill out into the fox's stomach. Although he was small, he was the perfect meal for something the fox's size and the stomach was small as well. Marc could feel its walls immediately. There was barely room to keep his head above the stomach soup of goop and half-digested mouse. There was a tiny pocket of air to breathe, but it was rancid and made him retch. This was not a place fit for life. It was for food. It was for him. A sudden gust of air blew through the stomach on its way out. He could hear the faint echo of a belch, and the space grew much too tight. The room shifted and Marc's head was forced under. He couldn't breathe, and while this was now a sensation he had experienced several times, he still struggled. The thrashing did nothing to help, though, as there was no air left at all.

The fox let out a second belch as it trotted towards the pool of water. He leaned down and drank long. The water was cool and he could feel it deep within him. The little man inside his stomach thrashed harder as the water flooded in, but it was not an unpleasant feeling, so the fox was unconcerned.

He finished his drink and laid down. It had been a long day and he had just eaten double what he normally did. He was tired. As the thrashing died down within him, he spoke one last time.

"I don't know if you can hear me or not in there, Marc, but I like to imagine that you can. I've really enjoyed getting to know you, and I can only hope that you feel the same. I know I said this before, but I really do mean it." The fox belched again, "Well met, Marc... well met indeed."

And with that, the fox drifted off to sleep.