FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

Frosty's ears perked when the front door closed, distracting his attention from the computer. Even from his bedroom he could immediately hear a quiet commotion, piquing the snowy cheetah's interest. Steady rattling filled the front room, which appeared to be coming from a pet carrier beside the door. A sheet was draped over the metal grate, obscuring the source of the racket. _Had James adopted a pet without asking?_The tall white raccoon was humming while he rummaged through a backpack, deliberately ignoring the racket.

A tiny voice emerged beneath the sheet moments later. "James, I'm gonna punch your butt so hard when I get out!"

Though it took a moment, a grin broke across the cheetah's lips when he recognized it. The cheetah's tail swished quickly as he strolled toward James and the blanketed pet carrier.

James finally broke his silence when he noticed Frosty approaching. "I'm not the one you need 'ta worry about," he dismissively stated toward the carrier. Then he gazed to Frosty. "I got something for 'ya, as promised."

As he lifted the sheet away from the door, Frosty knelt to peer inside. Standing at the door was a small black jaguar, barely a foot tall as opposed to his usual height, fingers wrapped around the thin metal bars as if it were a prison. The rattling ceased as soon as he laid eyes on the cheetah outside, looking immediately relieved to see him.

"Frosty! Let me outta here, James got me with his dart gun and stuffed me in this cage!" The voice was hushed, hoping to speak quietly enough that the raccoon wouldn't hear. Jag's stomach tightened when his friend's curious gaze turned into a broad smirk. Was Frosty in on it?

The cheetah immediately confirmed his suspicion. "He didn't give you too much trouble?"

James proceeded to regale him with a story about a clandestine meeting in a back alley, an exchange of goods that had gone bad, an epic one-on-one shootout with shrinking darts raining all around him, and ultimately tracking the infamous "Dr. Spots" to his hideout and finishing the job.

Frosty couldn't help grinning at the raccoon's ad lib story. Giggling quietly, he patted James on the shoulder and nodded. "Sounds like you had quite an evening, then. You had me right up to the part about 'Dr. Spots' though. That's a terrible name for a villain." It was clear he didn't take the story seriously.

There was an audible, offended huff from both James and the carrier. Frosty ignored the bemused expression on the white raccoon's face when he looked back to Jag. During the narration, he'd gone suspiciously quiet.

"But...I wasn't..." James thought it best not to reveal too much. He simply grumbled and looked toward Frosty, who was now lightly poking at the small cat inside, much to Jag's annoyance. "So, are we good, then?"

Nodding, Frosty grinned as he reached down and grabbed both sides of the carrier, lifting it from the floor. "Yeah. I'd say we're even now. I'll let you keep your pistol, but if that thing so much as points my direction again..." The cheetah's hips wiggled while he trailed off.

The raccoon's cheeks visibly darkened as his mind filled in the rest. The smell of cat felt permanently engrained in him now, despite several lengthy showers since the incident. James said nothing as he sheepishly turned away and shouldered his pack.

"Leaving so soon? I figured you might want to watch. Or help." Frosty watched him with an amused smirk and stood up with the carrier in arms. He felt the contents of the carrier shift quickly as Jag lost his balance and toppled onto his butt.

James simply huffed to himself and retreated to his bedroom, where Frosty couldn't see him blushing, or extracting the ill-gotten contents of his backpack. Though he'd been doing Frosty a favor, James wasn't going to pass up the opportunity to raid another scientist's lab.

Now alone with his catch, Frosty lifted the carrier to eye-level and peered through the door. Jag was rubbing his rump from the unexpected stumble, glowering at him from the other side. He could see his tail bristling in the darkness, swishing quickly with agitation. Clearly the jaguar was not happy about being the target of a hit.

"You are both in so much trouble," Jag grumbled. "Especially you. When I get out of here..."

Frosty simply chuckled. "...you're going to punch me in the butt, too? No, but you'll end up padding it. Dr. Spots."

The playfully-mocking tone was enough to bring Jag onto his feet again, shaking the cage as he growled. Before he could verbally retaliate, however, Frosty pushed his chest with a finger and nudged him onto his butt again. This only further upset the jaguar, prompting Frosty to quickly remove his fingers from the carrier to avoid being bitten.

"Tch. Gonna be all feisty? Better calm down, cuz I'm feeling pretty hungry from waiting so long. Might just end up getting a kitty's belly even more worked up." Holding the carrier by the handle, Frosty fingered the combination lock that was preventing the door from being opened. The code had already been agreed upon, sliding each of the numbered wheels in turn to the correct digit.

4-2-0-6-9 . The lock clicked open. "Nice."

Jag appeared to be considering his options as the door was unlatched and swung open. He was still sitting on the bottom of the carrier, watching intensely as Frosty gazed in at him. Against better judgement, the cheetah reached in and attempted to quickly wrap his hand around the small jaguar and retrieve him. Jag immediately scrambled backwards to avoid him, shuffling until his back was pressed to the far wall inside the crate.

"Gonna bite you, naughty chee!" Jag warned.

"C'mere, kitty. You're just delaying lunch." As Frosty reached in to his elbow, he felt a pair of tiny hands wrap around his wrist, followed by a firm bite between his thumb and finger as promised. He yelped and immediately withdrew his hand from the carrier, jolting it in the process and tossing Jag to one side. He braced himself against the sides to avoid being thrown about as Frosty mouthed his injured hand, which thankfully wasn't bleeding.

"Told 'ya! And I'm gonna keep biting until you let me go!" Jag confidently shouted.

Grumbling at the dull pain, he brought the carrier up to his face again and scowled at his friend. "You're gonna end up in my belly one way or another."

"Food chees don't eat other kitties! They get put in bellies!" the black spotted cat insisted.

Jag felt his surroundings shift again, and soon the crate was angling downward. When he began to slide forward to the door, he quickly grabbed at the vent holes on the sides of the carrier and braced his feet in the corners to avoid falling out. As he was lifted higher, the cheetah's face came into view again, peering up at the defiant jaguar. Frosty was now holding the carrier over his head to investigate why he hadn't fallen out already.

A grin came over the cheetah's lips and he brought the open doorway closer to his muzzle, letting a hot breath escape through his nose and roll over the cat. He couldn't fit his entire head inside, but the cheetah's snout was now dangerously close to Jag's legs. Black feet were planted to either side of the door, just out of reach of being nibbled, but not safe from Frosty's tongue.

"You're making this a lot more difficult than it needs to be," Frosty teased. He then slid his tongue over his lips and curled it around one of Jag's shins, slathering it with warm drool and prompting him to quickly pull his foot away. Frosty had to duck away again to avoid being kicked in the nose while Jag maintained his grip on the walls.

"Gross!" Jag protested, trying to climb away from the door again to put more distance between himself at the cheetah's jaws. "You have kitty breath, chee!"

Well, that won't work, either. Frosty decided to go for a more efficient approach to removing Jag from his crate and perhaps get lunch at the same time. As the carrier was angled down further, the cheetah's jaws parted, giving Jag a terrifying look at impressive feline fangs and a gaping pink abyss beyond Frosty's lips. The carrier was jostled to attempt to dislodge him, Jag now clinging desperately to the inside of the crate. With one foot slimed in cat drool, it was becoming more difficult to avoid losing his grip.

"N-no, bad kitty!" Jag shouted.

When Jag refused to let go, Frosty reached around the back of the crate and gave a firm thump. The noise rattled Jag's ears like a drum, jarred downward abruptly by the blow, but he still didn't slip. His limbs were beginning to tremble from the effort, however. As another hot breath rolled up from the cheetah's jaws and blasted Jag, he huffed loudly and growled at Frosty. Before he could scold his friend for the racket, however, another sharper blow broke his grip.

Jag scrambled to grab at the walls again, but a shake of the cage made it impossible to get ahold of anything as his feet dropped through the open door, directly into Frosty's yawning jaws. Everything happened so quickly that Frosty didn't react until he felt a pair of feet plunge into the back of his throat. The fleshy walls tightened up immediately to catch them, halting Jag's fall as Frosty quickly snapped his jaws over the black cat's lower half.

Now panicked, Jag grabbed at the lip of the crate to pull himself back through the opening to safety. He twisted around in the process, ending up with his belly pressed to Frosty's tongue rather than his slimy rump. Wiggling desperately, he strained to break himself free of the slimy tongue now wrapping up his legs. The cheetah's lips held his waist secure, pulled back in a wide grin now that he'd managed to effectively extract Jag.

"Lemme go, chee! Jags are not food!" he exclaimed, worming about as a wet gulp pulled at his feet, the cheetah's throat beginning to creep up Jag's legs.

Frosty crooned at the cat's taste as he pursed his lips, letting strings of drool thoroughly soak the jaguar's fur before swallowing again. He drew the carrier toward his jaws, simply crawling his teeth up the spotted cat with each successive gulp, nibbling teasingly as he went. Feeling the small hips slipping toward the back of his tongue, Frosty curled it upward and pushed him to the roof of his mouth. Jag whimpered as he was pinned briefly, and blushed despite his panicked frustration when he felt the cheetah deliberately grind his tongue across his lap.

A deep growl could be heard below, but this one didn't come from the cheetah's throat. It was Frosty's belly that voiced its opinion, gurgling impatiently as the morsel of a cat teased his appetite. Though he wanted to see if he could make the small cat squirm, he'd put off a meal for too long already, hunger pangs lightly digging at the inside of his gut.

As another gulp tightened the slimy passage around Jag's legs, his hips were pulled down into the darkness, making a subtle bulge in the cheetah's throat. Frosty's teeth were now at his chest, the cheetah's tongue sliding up his neck and liberally smearing him with drool. The black cat winced when the rough muscle curled over the end of his muzzle and face, wrinkling at the slimy wetness. He sputtered and scolded Frosty for the treatment, pulling firmly at the carrier, but the cat's grip on his body was unrelenting.

Jag's arms were trembling from the effort now. He could feel his muscles aching, threatening to give out, but he knew he couldn't let go. It was the only thing keeping him from vanishing down the cheetah's throat. As Frosty thoroughly explored the back of his head, cheeks, and neck, he mewled and tried to think of something, anything that could help.

It never came. When Frosty's tongue rolled over his outstretched arms, Jag involuntarily flinched and giggled. The rough sensation on his underarms was tickling him, making it impossible to maintain his grip. His fingers slipped away from the open crate, scrambling quickly to grab at the door as his head slid back into the cheetah's jaws.

"N-no! Don't swallow! Bad kitty!" Jag yelled, but he could only watch as the pearly feline fangs slid past his gaze, now bordering his view of the retreating pet carrier. He tried desperately to grab at the cat's muzzle and fangs as a last-ditch effort, but everything had grown far too slippery.

Frosty's tongue continued to massage his neck and arms until he felt the small bulge of Jag's head sliding beneath his fur. Inclining his muzzle, he traced a few fingers over the front of his neck to feel the wiggling cat, then swallowed heavily to send him on his way. He indulged in a few quick slurps over the jaguar's forearms and palms just to add insult to injury, finally letting out a heavy sigh once his throat was clear again. The slimy cat moved along smoothly now, carried down on a wave of peristalsis that swiftly deposited him into the cheetah's stomach.

Gently patting his belly, Frosty grinned when he felt the activity inside becoming more panicked once Jag settled in. He could feel the small jaguar scrambling around, pushing his hands and feet against the slimy walls while grumbling audibly, though his words were mostly unintelligible. A restrained urrrrp followed as the squirming cat stirred up the cheetah's gut, bringing with it the taste of a black jaguar he'd eaten.

"Oooh, that's much better. Mmmh, see? Told you what was gonna happen, kitty."

Tossing the pet carrier beside the front door, Frosty wandered back to his bedroom and stood in front of the mirror while he lifted his shirt. White fur masked the finer details of Jag's body, but he could clearly see the petite bulge moving about, occasionally pushing firmly in protest. Unless someone was really looking, however, it might only seem Frosty had eaten a particularly large lunch.

Pressing a palm to the twitching roundness, he firmly rubbed over Jag and sighed happily. It felt good to have a small snack wiggling around in there. Shame that it wouldn't last. His belly was already gurgling from the disturbance, tightening around Jag to subdue the small cat. He'd simply let Jag wear himself out, arching his back with a satisfied stretch that made everything uncomfortably-tight inside.

Frosty eventually returned to his computer, leaning back in the seat to play with his belly while it mutedly churned. He could feel his friend already losing steam, struggling to the last moment to escape the digestive bath that was overtaking him. Frosty crooned softly and burped again, licking his lips afterward at the lingering taste of jaguar on his breath.

"Mmh, good kitty. You take it easy in there and finish digesting like a good snack," Frosty purred. "With any luck, James might feel generous enough to put you through his machine once I'm done. Would love to do this again sometime..."