FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

1

Schuck. Crinkle. Another $50 wedges itself into the big glass jar. Jax pulls his long hairy mouse tail back out of the slit at the top of the lid. He allows himself a little smile. That's $1500. Another two grand, and it's over. He can finally leave this utter shit hole and start a real life somewhere decent.

A hammering on the apartment's front door makes him jump. Jax scrambles with the jar, staggering a little as he wedges it back high up into a cupboard and moves cans of sweet corn in front of it.

"JAX! You make me knock again, that's 20% more you pay next month!" The voice is a snarling, bassy croak. Like a chainsmoker bass-warped down three octaves.

"Coming, Caesar!" Jax squeaks.

He sprints to the front door, bathed in a bare overhead light bulb, the tacky off-teal colored paint peeling from the old, cracked wood. The deadbolt creaks. The door chain rattles. The doorknob takes both of Jax's hands to turn properly, it's so stubborn with rust.

Jax opens it up on a wall of frog. Caesar stands there, smirking down at Jax with those gold eyes as shiny as bicycle safety reflectors. His body is the shade of avocados. Pale eggshell white across the giant pecs and down the beer keg thick core of pure muscle that connects those pecs to his waist. Caesar is wider than the entire doorframe by a good half foot to either side, traps rolled up to that fire hydrant of a neck like a big dome. A gold chain glitters across Caesar's collarbones like a river seen from an airplane.

Caesar's broad green cheeks thrust up into jowels as his flat lips stretch into a lewd, close-lipped smiiiiiile. He holds out a brutish hand, palm up.

"Which is it this time, boy?"

Jax blushes, thinking of his cash jar tucked safe out of sight. "I don't have it, Caesar."

The towering goliath frog's chuckle vibrates the whole hallway.

"Was kinda hoping you didn't. You know the rules, boy."

His hand lowers to his belt. Yanks it open.

There's no disguising a bulge that obscene. Even soft, Jax needs two hands to cup one of the goliath frog's naturally oiled, greasy gurgling balls. Caesar is nowhere near soft.

Jax is on his knees moments later. He shakes his head. He can never get over how HUNG Caesar is. It's like the frog has been a pumper for years until his cock is this unnatural bloated THING that has to be hefted more than stroked.

Caesar's cock is an emerald spear fading to pink near the glans. It unfolds from a slimy, rolling foreskin that now grips the base of the head as taut as a condom. Jax croons at the sight.

Caesar's heavy hand grips the top of his head.

"Don't tease me, boy."

Jax takes him. Eyes closed, feeling like his jaw will break any minute, he stuffs himself on his landlord's monster dick. "Mmnnnnhh!!"

Caesar just smirks down at his mouse bitch blowing him in the hallway.

"Three months you've been paying this way. I'm starting to think you LIKE it...crooooak!"

Jax curls his naughty little tongue against Caesar's urethra. Exhales against it. Eager. Hard. Suckling the tip like a teat.

"Crrrrrrrooooaaakkk....that's it. Get in the bed, boy."

Jax leaves the door to the apartment open. Caesar swaggers into it like he owns the place. Which he does. Glancing about as if taking stock of Jax's furniture and possessions. As if judging Jax for his purchases. His cock bobbs ahead of him.

Jax patters down the dim hallway with its 70's wood paneling, it's half functional overhead light, and its threadbare carpeting. Caesar's footsteps make the floor creak. He peels off his shirt and lets it drop into the hall, revealing the full extent of his bloated, roided out body.

Enormous thunder thighs, with heavy cuts that snap into relief with every step. A half sagging but still barrel firm paunch riddled with faint, rippling abs each as thick as Jax's entire face. Arms so brutishly thick the elbows drag against the walls. The look on Caesar's face tells Jax how much he's looking forward to crushing the mouse under all that bulk.

Jax backs away into his bedroom. The light is off, the overhead fan spinning slow and lazy. The walls are a mismatch of faded light blue paint and posters covering the worst of the crumbling sections. A drop shade hangs askew over the window.

Jax is already stripping. He tosses his clothes one by one onto the lap of his computer chair. Caesar squeezes his way into the bedroom. He gives it the same sort of casual judgemental once-over. He eyes the computer and smirks.

"Maybe I'll give you a few shots of your daddy frog. You can have something to remind you of who you owe, eh?"

Caesar chuckles, advancing on his prey. Jax shivers. Schlurk-SNAP! Jax HOWLS. A tongue like a massive pink tentacle has shot from Caesar's mouth to crush and envelop his puny mouse dick.

"SIR!!!"

"Heh heh heh."

Wet slimy SNAP gulp.

"Show me your fucking puny slutty ASS, you whore."

The slap to the side of Jax's ass sends him spinning around to land face first in his creaking bed. He splays his legs wide. Grabbing the pillow and then the half rusty bedstead itself for dear life.

"Mmmmmmmhhhhh."

Slimy slick paw-like hands smear all over Jax's ass.

"God you're my favorite tenant."

The bed GROANS when Caesar gets into it. He utterly fills the thing. So huge Jax can imagine his mottled bulging green back almost reaches the ceiling.

"You been using that toy I bought you?" Caesar croaks low and husky.

Jax shudders and nods rapidly.

"You better have. Else, this is reaaaalllly goona hurt."

But Jax's cheeks and anus part for that first deep, slow push. And the massive frog gives a groan.

"That's my bitch. Mmmh. How long's it been, boy?"

Jax can't properly breathe with so many hundred pounds of slimy muscle crushing down on him, but between gasps for air he manages to say, "Three... three years, Sir!"

"Three years," Caesar murmurs.

His rubbery flat lips kiss the base of Jax's neck. Gooseflesh rises under Jax's fur.

"You better hope any boyfriend you get is a horse or something. Otherise...crrrk... I might have ruined your ass for life."

Jax shudders. He starts to buck his hips back against Caesar's motions. The massive amphibian approves. He utterly takes the mouse. Heavy meaty hands that paw and grip and grope and smear over Jax like he's a sex doll.

More lewd slurps of that titanic tongue, curling up under Jax's chin. Against his cheeks. Even pushing against Jax's open mouth. It's like some sort of symbiote that lives in the frog's mouth but seeks its own prey.

"Mmmh...mmmmhhh...nnnnnhh...come on, bitch, where's your mind at?"

Jax whimpers an apology and refocuses on pleasuring his top. Caesar thrusts harder and it ratchets Jax's cries up a pitch. Caesar likes that. He loves it when he can make Jax squeak. The frog's breath comes in moist, heavy, hungry pants. Caesar practically drools onto the mouse.

Jax's eyes screw shut for the final effort.

"Eeek! Eek! Ek! Ek! EEEEEK!"

"Nnnnnngghh! Fuck yeah.... Eager.. Puny... mouse... BITCH!"

"Please.. cum...in..me...Sir! Oh Sir!"

Caesar crushes Jax within his burly arms as he cums. The grip is fantastic, mottled smooth skin and sweat greasing up Jax's soft fur. Rolling bulging power that bears down on Jax like a scrapped car in a junk yard.

Jax doesn't even feel his own orgasm. Nor does it matter. Caesar's pleasure is what this is about. Caesar leaves his mark - a heavy load as thick as honey and as slick as KY jelly. It oozes warm and slick back out between Jax's glutes when the monster frog pulls out. A final spurt spatters across the mouse's exposed cheeks. Jax blushes.

Caesar chuckles and swats the mouse's right ass.

"You got any of that coffee I like?"

Jax can only hum for a few moments. Caesar is no longer in the room. Jax can hear Caesar rummaging in his pantry. His eyes snap open. The cash jar. If Caesar finds that...

Jax hops out of his bedroom tugging on some boxers.

"Over here, Caesar!"

Jax fetches a large tin of pre-ground dark roast. Caesar leaves him to it. Jax breaths a sigh of relief while he loads up a coffee filter and sets a pot to brew. Caesar's body oils and cum are drying in his fur.

Jax brings Caesar's steaming mug of coffee into the cramped living room. There's not much to it - some wood floors with fading varnish, a window overlooking the street with its identical squat brick apartments. Caesar fills the used easy chair which is Jax's only piece of furniture. Designed for smaller species, it quakes under the goliath frog's mighty bulk.

Caesar accepts the coffee. He draws the mouse closer and idly massages a big heavy hand along Jax's rump as he sips.

"You don't have no stinkin TV."

"I canceled my cable to save money."

Caesar grunts.

"Well, you ever wanna watch somethin on a big screen, you just come on downstairs, boy. I'll hook you up with my big flat screen! We'll watch together, eh?"

The frog winks up at the blushing mouse.

"Excuse me, sir. I'm going to go take a shower," Jax says.

Caesar nods, dismissing his mouse bitch with another swat to his rump. "I'll see myself out, boy."

Alone under the steaming spray, Jax shudders. His anus still aches. It makes the mouse bite his lip. He can imagine Caesar lumbering into the bathroom. Absolutely filling up the shower stall. He imagines those slimy, possessive ham hands all over him. The frog would be in his natural element in here.

Jax's little shaft floats upward, and Jax gives it a stroke, half lost in his own dream. His eyes flutter closed. His hand moves. Jax eases his fuck-battered body against the tiles. Caesar's cum, sweat, and body oils melt from his fur like butter from a dirty spoon. That's all he is. A tool for the huge frog's pleasure.

The thought sets Jax to moaning. He's never had a boyfriend. He has no one to compare Caesar to. The huge daddy frog brute stole Jax's virginity from him the first time the mouse couldn't pay. It was better than eviction. Caesar saw to that. So much better.

Jax's hand is a blur. His tail curls around one slender, toned leg. His orgasm is weak and watery after being pounded so recently. If Caesar ever wanted to, he could dump Jax's ass out onto the street. He had legal cause. Jax was back due by three months. What would he say in his own defense? 'Oh, but your honor, I DID pay him! In sexual favors!'

The power the huge frog holds over him makes Jax shudder even more. He steps from the shower to collapse back in his creaking bed.

2

Jax ducks his head entering the bank as though he doesn't belong there. His feet still ache from gyrating on the stage and dodging the paws of hungry patrons.

"May I have these changed into larger bills, please?" he murmurs to the teller.

The cash he lays on the counter is crumpled, covered in hints of glitter, and still smells like stale beer. At least it's a job, Jax tells himself.

He thanks the teller and heads home. Back to the sleazy palace of an apartment and its amphibious horny overlord. The structure might have been the pride of the neighborhood twenty or thirty years ago. Now it's like last year's birthday tiara - bent, worn, and faded from neglect.

Jax raps on Caesar's door. Caesar's bulk eclipses the entrance in a wife beater and a jock strap. His gleaming flat lips smirk. He already has a hard on.

"You're early, boy," the mighty frog murrs, slowly petting his own bulge. "I like that."

Jax holds up the envelope of cash. Caesar grunts acceptance. He shoves the door wider and steps to the side.

"C'mon in. Just drop it on the table."

If the doorway had been a portal to a completely different building, Jax would not have known the difference. A marble and glass coffee table rests on top of a soft cream colored carpet. A postmodern 'lamp' hangs from the ceiling, reminding Jax of wind chimes made of light.

The table is full of money. It's straight out of a cliche mobster film - neat stacks of bills forming a ziggarut in bundles of hundreds. Jax plops his crumpled envelope next to it.

A thick and slimy hand rubs Jax's hip.

"Lotta dough, hunh? Heh heh. Yeeep. Pays to be the landlord, boy." The fingers squeeze. "You wanna count it for me?"

"Oh, heh, well..." Jax blushes.

Frog lips smooch his cheek from behind.

"There's a discount on next month if you do."

"Alright," Jax agrees.

He starts to sit and hears a chuckle. He looks up.

Caesar smirks at him.

"Did I say while wearing clothes?"

Blushing, Jax peels off his shirt. He doesn't realize it, but muscle memory from work makes his stomach and hips sway. Caesar whistles.

"That's right, boy. Show yourself off for me. I like that!"

"Oh, I... s-sorry, Caesar."

The tip of Caesar's huge tongue pushes between his own lips and he fondles his impressive bulge.

"Don't be sorry. Keep going. Show me what you can do."

Jax hesitates. Caesar reaches into the envelope of money, holds up a generous sample of it, and plops it next to Jax.

Jax stands, shirtless now. He turns his back to the massive frog and sways his tight little mouse ass while undoing his fly. The back and forth pendulum of Jax's hips work his pants slowly down off his naked rump, carrying his briefs with them.

"Oh baby. Oh fuck yeah, boy. Get your hands up behind your head when you do that. Yeaaah, there you go. Mmmmh. Beautiful."

Jax is standing naked with his pants about his ankles and his back to his landlord. He holds the pose, hands behind his own neck, and turns in place slightly to address Caesar.

"Can I count your money for you now, big guy?"

Caesar has this lewd grin on his face and is making no effort to hide the jutting tent between his meaty thighs.

"First, lemme give you a little tour. Wouldn't be a good host if I didn't show you around, would I?"

A pat to the mouse's naked rear.

"Come on."

Caesar guides the mouse deeper into his gleaming abode. They pass by a marble tiled bathroom with granite countertops and a recessed floor tub Jax swears is rimmed with gold.

"Oh, it is," Caesar assures the mouse when Jax asks. "Very important for a frog, you know."

Caesar wraps a bulging hairless arm around Jax's slender waist.

"Looks inviting, don't it?"

Heavy picture frames laced with rhinestones ring the walls about the tub, holding photographs that might have been clipped from Playfur Magazine. Only Jax recognizes a few of the faces.

"You've got yourself a regular harem, haven't you, big frog?" Jax teases.

Caesar snickers.

"Why can I say, boy? I've got a big...heart."

He looms behind Jax.

"You didn't think this was my only property, didjya? Got three."

His slimy flat lips suckle the base of Jax's neck on the left side.

"Eastside Gardens..."

Another suckling kiss, to the right side of Jax's neck.

"Broadley Court..."

That huge amphibious head rises up, resting a non-existent chin between Jax's rodent ears. A big slimy hand smears its way down Jax's naked belly, just beneath his navel. Heading between his legs.

"And this place," he murrs.

Jax shudders. He tires to pull away, but those titanic muscles yank him sharply back against the goliath frog.

"Haven't shown you the bedroom yet, boy."

"But your money-" Jax protests.

"After."

"But I paid you!"

"Get your naked perky mouse fuckhole between my sheets or you can sleep in a fucking cardboard box, BITCH."

Jax is shoved, practically hurled off his feet, toward a dark rectangle at the end of the hall. He catches glimpses of even thicker tiger print carpeting and pillows glittering with sequins.

Then another shove sends him grunting into the red scarlet sheets. The bedroom door slams.

Panting, Jax rolls over to face Caesar. He moans. The enormous frog is shirtless. Soft illumination from two lace-covered floor lamps plays off that tank of a body. The heavy cuts between the wide shoulders and the rolling biceps. The piston-like forearms and tabletop chest. And that heavy. Bulging. Muscle. Gut.

Caesar gestures to the bobbing spear in his jock. Biting his lip, Jax frees his landlord's shaft.

Pre arcs out like water from a drinking fountain.

"Nnnnnnnnnhhhh!!!"

The musky slime of it hits Jax's pale fur, as warm as a hot shower, penetrating to his skin. So thick it feels HEAVY.

"Yeah, rub it in, slut," Caesar sneers in a whisper, slowly shaking his hips back and forth so the stream drizzles over Jax like marinade on a turkey.

"You're disgusting," Jax whispers.

A wad of spit smacks Jax across the chest.

"Maybe. But you love it, don't you, you dirty little mouse."

Caesar yanks Jax to the foot of the bed. He spreads his heavy arms wide, bouncing his pecs.

"Come to Daddy."

Jax plasters himself to the huge frog's body like paint. A groaning, shuddering, slurping mess.

Half mindless. Eyes shut tight. He gropes with shaking fingers across the heaving pecs. No nipples mar the perfect roundness. There's no navel, either. Jax's dripping shaft rubs up and down the uninterrupted curve of Caeser's bloated, convex abs.

Caesar chuckles in victory. Crawling up onto his bed on all fours like an animal. With Jax clinging to him from below.

"Always knew you were a slut, boy. Now I'm going to prove it to you."

That heavy bulging back undulates up and down in the light. The mouse's cries change as he's pierced. As he's flattened to the crumpled red satin sheets by the panting rutting BEAST on top of him.

"You brought this on yourself, you little slut. Dancin so good for me. In my own living room. You know what a virile alpha daddy of a frog I am. Gnnnnnh. Fuck yeah. Clench that ass around my shoving cock. It's so....hungry for you..."

Hundreds of millions of years ago, the ancestors of Caesar preyed upon the ancestors of Jax. Jax felt those times return.

Caesar's immense tongue slimed him from chest to mouth. Again. And again. While he speared Jax. Rode him. Smothered him out of sight.

"Yeaaah, God, feel Daddy's big slimy heavy GUT riding on top of you. You gotta love how powerful I am. Mmh. The strength in this big ol frog legs. I'm gonna fucking SLIME you up, mouse. From head to toe. In. My. Sweat. Look at me. Look at me you little whore. Look in Daddy's eyes...as...I...cuuuummmmm."

Their eyes locked. Their moans synched. Mounted. Louder and louder. Until they practically screamed.

"Cae...Caesar! DADDY!! DAAAADDDYYY!!!!"

"NNNNNNGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!"

Jax howled. Brayed. Clung to that slippery, slimy BULK. Caesar came in him and he saw God. He saw the fucking gates of Heaven. He saw stars behind his eyes.

Caesar hummed, satisfied. He gripped the fur between Jax's sweaty shoulder blades. Literally peeled the mouse off his slime-sticky body with a chuckle.

Jax flopped, gasping, into the bed.

"Daddy..."

"Mmm?"

"Fuck me again."

A pat to Jax's cheek.

"Later, boy. For now...have fun countin up how rich Daddy is."

Caesar smooches the mouse and leaves him to recover his senses. It takes Jax some time. His thoughts and feelings are like crumpled clothes strewn all over a floor.

Jax winces when he sits up. He shivers at how good that intimate pain about his hole makes him feel. Worthy, somehow, of Caesar. A secret reminder of their fuck no one else will know about.

Caesar is dressed when Jax reemerges into the living room. If wearing a pair of zebra stripped spandex counts as 'dressed.' He smirks at the naked mouse.

"You took your time. I wear you out?"

"I'm only a mouse, Daddy. You fucked me like a tiger."

Caesar snickers as Jax smooches his cheek.

"Mmm. Get me a beer as long as you're up, would ya?"

Jax fetches one, snapping off the cap on a bottle opener. Caesar settles on the couch with it, flicking on his enormous TV.

"Now get to countin."

Jax settles his rear in Caesar's lap. His slender hands rifle through the stacks of cash on the table in front of him. Caesar's heavy fingers give Jax an idle massage while the huge frog gulps at his beer and watches the porno on the screen.

"Looks like about five grand, Daddy," Jax reports.

Caesar sets down his empty beer.

"Cool. Take $500. Go buy yourself somethin nice."

Jax twists to gape at him.

"W-what?"

Caesar winks.

"I like you, boy. And I wanna see you in red."

"Oh, Caesar I..."

"I'm insisting."

"Okay. But I wouldn't even know where to go!"

"Mmm. No, don't suppose you would. Here," Caesar opens a palm. He can't exactly snap his fingers. "Gimme a pen."

Jax finds a pen and a half crumpled receipt. He leaves Caesar's apartment with a final parting kiss and an address.

3

Alla Pecorina is a store made of display glass and silver trim. Even the lights look expensive. Soft piano wafts around racks of gleaming business suits that are stocked between display tables of real silk thongs.

Jax holds his little scrap of paper in both hands like a magic ward. In his oversized grey hoodie and slim jeans, he feels like a burglar just stepping through the front doors.

The noise of downtown fades when the doors close, leaving Jax in this alien world of high fashion.

"...I think he just walked in..." says a faint voice from the far end. "Yep, that would be him. You lucky bitch."

Jax peers around a two-tiered display of leather man purses. The rat behind the counter has a comb out, dragging it through his ebony fur.

"Be right with you, sweetheart."

Jax sucks on his lips. The rat is immaculate from head to toe. Not a strand of fur out of place. It's almost impossible to tell where fur ends and suit begins. A scarlet pressed handkerchief peeks out of a chest pocket. Manicured nails adjust a violet tie decorated in red hearts.

The rat approaches the mouse.

"Now then. Shopping for something special?"

"W-well, I guess so," Jax manages.

"May I?"

The rat takes the paper from Jax's fingers, but it isn't a list, just the address and name of the shop. The rat puts his hand on Jax's shoulder.

"A friend of mine said you'd be by. He also said to take good care of you. I always do my best for new customers. Jax, isn't it? Moselli."

"You know Caesar?" Jax asks.

"I do. He likes to send his conquests down here from time to time. Well...the ones he plans to keep, anyway. How much did he give you?"

"$500."

Moselli's sculpted thin black eyebrows shoot up.

"He must REALLY like you. ....though I can see why. Shall we?"

"What?" Jax asks, utterly lost.

Moselli gestures toward the back corner of the store where the change rooms lurk.

"I haven't picked out anything," Jax says.

Moselli chuckles.

"That's...not how it works here, sweetheart. We bring the items to you, based on your tastes and your feedback. Oh my. You ARE new to this, aren't you."

Jax wants to pull his hood over his face. Moselli clucks and guides him with an arm about his shoulders.

"You just enjoy yourself and leave everything to me, Jax. I promise you, you'll leave here feeling sexier than you've ever felt in your life!"

Jax stands alone in a changing cubicle that's more like a walk-in closet. Black wooden walls on every side, with full length mirrors centered and smooth. The lighting has an adjustable slide so that clients can view what they look like in different lights.

"Did Daddy say anything about what he wants?" Moselli asks from outside.

"Something in red."

It takes Jax two hours to make his purchases. Two hours of the sleek rat coaxing Jax out of his shyness until Jax feels like its all some sort of male version of a dress up party.

In the end, Jax settles on a red satin two-strapped g-string and a mesh sleeveless black shirt with red trim and a scarlet dragon design on the back.

Moselli instructs Jax to turn in place under the changing room lights, eyeing him head to toe with one manicured claw tapping the side of his muzzle.

"Yes. I think I agree with you," says the rat. "Of course it would look better with some accessories."

Moselli beckons Jax out of the change room and over to a different corner of the store. Gleaming racks of sunglasses rest beside watches and jewelry.

"No piercings?" Moselli touches his own ear to show what he means. Jax shakes his head.

Moselli sighs. "Shame. Alright, I'll do what I can."

He examines his collection, then selects a pair of sunglasses with thin golden frames and a glittering golden choker necklace. He insists Jax try them on, then turns Jax to face another mirror.

"There, now. What do we think, hm?" Moselli murrs close to Jax's left ear.

Jax stares at the gleaming reflection. He doesn't recognize himself. If he saw a mouse dressed so fine on the street, Jax thinks, he'd probably fall over.

"Will $500 cover all this?" Jax asks.

He gasps when one of the rat's paws caresses the base of his tail.

"It will for you, gorgeous. Just pay me for the shirt and I'll throw the rest in."

Jax blushes and looks at Moselli.

Moselli winks at him.

"I saw your show. You deserve it. How's it feel on you?"

"Amazing," Jax admits. "I can barely feel the clothes at all."

"Perfect. Then my job here is done!"

Jax changes back into his regular clothes while Moselli folds and bags his purchases. Jax's phone buzzes. It's Caesar.

Jax hesitates, then checks the message. His phone screen fills with one of Caesar's massive webbed hands holding his bloated green and cream colored cock with the fat exposed cock head aimed almost directly at the camera. Jax can almost taste the image.

'Be home early tonight. In your new duds.'

Jax sends a quick reply. He doesn't mention Moselli's discount.

He thanks the rat again for everything.

"When's your next shift?" Moselli asks.

"Um, F-Friday?"

"I'll be there, you cute thing. In the front row. Ready to give you the rest of your money back if you can earn it."

Moselli blows Jax a quick air kiss, then hands him his bag.

"Go knock the big frog dead!"

4

"Boy. You look good enough to EAT."

Caesar's words drool from his smirking, thick moist lips. His eyes on Jax are a knife spreading the slow admiration of his gaze up and down like butter on toast. Feeling bold, Jax does a slow half turn and pose.

Jax gasps when a tongue as heavy as a rug smears along the left side of his neck and glides beneath his chin. Caesar switches sides, massaging the mouse's neck in more tongue muscle. The tip probes behind Jax's ears, spiking up Jax's head fur in saliva.

Caesar's fist grips hold of Jax's erection through the new designer pants. He pulls the mouse flush to his bulk.

"Daddy wants to taaaaassste you, you delicious piece of cake."

Jax pants. He can't respond. He can't even pull away while thick green fingers push the bottom of the mesh shirt up, exposing Jax's quivering stomach. The huge frog is all over him.

Jax's cock flips out of his new thong. Caesar pulls the red string down Jax's shaking thighs to his knees. Jax raises his arms. The shirt comes off.

Caesar's kiss is a slimy deep throated parody of a French kiss. Jax gulps around the tongue like its a porn star's cock while their mouths dance and play.

Caesar pulls Jax down onto his bed. Jax's eyes close. He has to focus on breathing while Caesar's great tongue coils and twists about his nipples, then slathers up the groove of his abs.

Caesar doesn't just taste Jax. He bathes Jax. A hypnotic rhythm of wet gurgles, heavy slap-drags, and deep throated panting hums becomes Jax's world. The swirling, slurping, curling tongue explores his pits, his ass crack, his backside. It moistens up his face.

Jax blindly clings to the frog's heaving musky huge pecs while the frog's great tongue coils about Jax's cock and gurgles out a squeeze.

Jax's orgasm howls from his throat. Caesar muffles it between his pecs. Claiming it as his property.

Slowly, Jax's head stops spinning. The two bodies separate again. Jax blinks his eyes open, slightly sticky against drying saliva.

Caesar grins from above and to the side of him. It's only then that Jax sees the sticky second skin of cum coating Caesar's belly.

"Was I a good dessert, Daddy?" Jax murmurs.

The huge frog chuckles.

"Let's just say it's a good thing you aren't any smaller. I might not have stopped there."

Caesar's words follow Jax into his dreams that night. Jax is back in Caesar's bed, now the size of a football stadium. An enormous Caesar reaches out with one great green hand and crushes Jax into his fist.

"I know what you've been hiding from me," giant dream Caesar says.

"No! Please! I've paid you everything you've asked!"

The dream shakes with Caesar's enormous laughter.

"Not good enough, mouse. I want ALL your money!"

The fist opens to dangle Jax's dream self over a slowly opening mouth.

"I want EVERYTHING!"

Jax falls into the darkness of Caesar's open maw. He wakes up wrapped in sheets stained with his own cum.

Jax sits on the edge of his bed for a moment, panting, holding his head in his hands. The weight of a heavy gold necklace rests about his neck - a parting gift from Caesar to 'match his outfit.'

He disentangles the sheets and pads naked through his little warren of an apartment. Faintly, through the paper thin walls, Jax hears the rhythmic grunts of Caesar and the muffled cries of some other tenant-turned-bitch.

This is his life, now. Gyrating and being groped for hours at the club only to come home to the leers and cat calls of his enormous alpha landlord.

Jax pulls out his savings jar. He holds the cool glass on his lap, listening to Caesar fuck the bitch boy's brains out. A donkey, if the sounds are anything to go by. He fingers the thick golden chain, like a collar about his neck.

It'll be the height of summer in a few weeks. Caesar sometimes likes to cut off the AC for 'repairs' and force Jax to walk around naked just to cope with the heat.

Jax washes his face with cool water in the bathroom sink. His thoughts are tangled yarn. Even when he's ready to move out, there's no way in hell he's ever going to find another guy like Caesar. Insatiable, virile, undeniable. As sleazy as the frog is, he keeps Jax's appliances running and the place mold free.

Caesar is approaching climax. The dangling light fixture in the bathroom sways listlessly. Jax bends over the sink, eyes closed. Even when he did move out, he'd pay Caesar money just to watch the frog fuck. He'd pay to still be able to feel up those huge arms. To still feel that freakshow of a tongue gag him halfway to his damn stomach. Jax's ears tremble at the sound of Caesar's climax. He'd pay to be Caesar's boyfriend.

5

Summer lounges on top of the city with air like a dog's mouth. Nights are concerts of cicadas and crickets that meld with the wail of police sirens. The best the strip club's AC can do is lukewarm air, but it's something.

Jax sits counting his tips in the changing room. He turns at a knock to the door. Jax's manager is a skink. Shorter than Jax by two inches, dressed in a pale peach button-down with rolled up sleeves and green polyester pants even in this heat.

"Reece," Jax greets him, returning to counting.

"So what got into YOU tonight?" Reece says.

Jax shrugs. He folds the bills into his wallet.

Reece clucks with his vibrant blue tongue. "Come on, Jax. Something's up with you. You're always such a little popsicle up there."

"I guess I found my stride?"

"I'LL say! You told me you were a dance major in college, but I didn't believe it until now."

The blurred memories of the night resurface. All the pent up lust of Caesar's games at home...the 'malfunctioning' AC forcing Jax to sleep on Caesar's couch, the discounts to his rent for giving Caesar and his friends private dances...it all boiled out of Jax on the stage. Reece is right. He hadn't been himself. He'd been Caesar's little mouse whore. Doing all the things he knew the frog loved. For the first time since Jax started working for Reece, the bouncers were forced to earn their keep.

Reece lounges his back against the mirrored countertop.

"How much did you make?" the skink asks.

"$725."

Reece whistles. "Do you know what that means, Jax?"

Jax looks at him, blankly.

"It means you're top of the leader board, kid!"

Jax blushes. But he smiles.

"I never paid much attention to that."

"Well, maybe you should, Jax. I owe you a drink of your choice on the house, AND since it's your first time at the top, I owe you a favor. Anything you want," Reece tells him.

Ten minutes later, Jax is watching the ice cubes melt in his moscow mule. Reece stands across from him at the bar. The skink has to use a little stool to clear the bartop enough to serve, but nobody who works for Reece says a word about that.

Reece bends forward to catch Jax's eye.

"Well?"

"I don't know," Jax says.

"Kid, I have to close up. I'm not standing here all night. Come on. How about some time off?"

Jax blinks at him.

"Paid?"

Reece turns his scaled palms upward.

"A deal's a deal. Just don't make me regret my generosity."

"Unpaid, then. But I want three weeks."

Reece's chin almost smacks the nail polish stained countertop.

"Where are you gonna go that you need three fuckin weeks? Cambodia?"

"I just have some things I need to straighten out, okay?"

Reece turns his head to the side in thought. He sighs. Then he gestures with one hand in reluctant agreement.

"What the hell. It's the slow season, anyway. But I want your best game when you get back, mouse. After tonight's fireworks, I'm gonna have guys asking for you."

Reece insists one of the rottweiler bouncers escort Jax home. With that much cash on him, Reece says it isn't safe to go alone. Even the bouncer compliments Jax's performance. Jax gives the bouncer a hug and a $20 for his trouble at the apartment steps.

The next morning, Jax is out of the city.

The local nature preserve is a golf course and corporate retreat center with just enough wilderness squeezed in around the edges to qualify for government grants. But it has cheap rates and some hiking paths. The coffee isn't bad, either.

Jax hardly leaves his bed the first day. He gets to wake up with the sun for the first time in years. He sips coffee that isn't instant. He floats on his back all afternoon, letting the gentle swells of the small lake rock him. And for once, Jax is able to stop thinking about Caesar.

Jax runs some numbers on a note pad, sitting at a picnic table. If he can pull off some more stunts at the strip club like the last one, he can move out before winter. Start living his life.

Jax hasn't had the free time to develop hobbies. By the end of the first week, he's grown bored. With boredom come thoughts of the goliath frog landlord. Jax thinks about the way light plays off those big bloated pecs. How Caesar's roid gut swells out so wonderfully thick when his body is turned at just the right angle. Jax wonders who Caesar takes to bed with him not around.

Jax finds himself standing in the adult health section of a nearby corner store, perusing lubricants. He buys a 'cool tingler' flavor of lube - if flavor was the right word - and a soda. The bubble gum chewing chihuahua behind the cash register winks at Jax while handing him the receipt.

Jax flashes him a naughty grin. Afterward, he wonders why. He's never been one for casual flirting like that. The sun sets. Jax looks out at the glaze of neon light on the horizon that is the city. His emotions are a jumble.

When it comes time to give his notice, how will Caesar take it? Will he make a big scene, or will he just grunt and not say a word? And which would feel worse?

Jax keeps himself occupied with befriending some of the other campers. He jogs with a greyhound in the mornings, hangs out by the poolside with an otter couple from Louisiana, and becomes a passable bridge player with the help of a murder of crows.

It doesn't occur to Jax until walking up the front steps of his apartment that he hasn't gotten off in three weeks.

6

Caesar's been trying to fill the apartment across from Jax for months. Jax sees its prospective new occupant when he follows the frog's heavy, rhythmic grunts up the creaking stairs to his floor.

Caesar's naked bloated back is to Jax. Caesar is working his monstrous shaft into the throat of some writhing, naked garder snake who's choking on his knees right there in the hallway.

Caesar's bulk FILLS the hall. The frog is definitely bigger than he was three weeks ago. Jax spots tiny puncture wounds in one bulging arm.

Caesar also has some new bling: a heavy golden chain necklace, a thick rolex, and a full set of ten gleaming rings on his thick fingers.

There's a slapping sound. Caesar spits on his would-be worshiper and shoves the snake to the floor.

"Pathetic. Your FUCKING JAW UNHINGES and you can't even fit me halfway? Find another apartment, you overgrown worm!"

Caesar's bulging shoulders heave and gleam, covered in a mix of sweat and his natural amphibian body oils that make him look permanently slicked up for the stage.

He senses someone watching. His bullet shaped head twists on his bullish neck and spots a motionless Jax.

The naked hunger in the frog's eyes makes Jax shudder.

"Oh, thank fuck," Caesar whispers.

Caesar ignores the whimpering snake gathering up his scattered clothes and making for the stairwell. He lumbers toward Jax.

Jax yelps. Caesar's huge tongue is a whip that splatters against his chest and literally pulls the mouse into Caesar's arms.

Caesar devours that mouth like a dog on wet food.

"Where the hell were you? Hunh?" Caesar pants between throat fucking French kisses. "Do you know what it's like not having my favorite bitch for almost a MONTH?"

"Why should you care?" Jax whispers back in a panting sultry voice. "As long as I pay on time."

Caesar sends wood flying into Jax's apartment when he shoves the mouse through the door hard enough to break it open. The momentum carries Jax into his sagging, frayed couch.

Caesar is on him. Shoving Jax's head into the musty cushions. All but tearing his pants off. Jax is used to sex every other day with the huge horny frog. Twenty days without has come crashing back into Jax's brain like an out-of-control train. He wrestles with his shirt and, once naked enough, moans as his tail is yanked roughly out of the way of his crack.

"I'll teach you to mouth off to me," Caesar whispers.

Caesar's tongue is a paint brush covered in hot, dripping saliva as thick as laundry detergent. It lashes up against Jax's taint, winds itself around one leg, then around the other, and THEN burrows its tip up to Jax's anus.

"NNNNNNNNHHHHH!!!!!!"

Jax's fur stands on edge. The burrowing tongue feels endless. A red hot poker of pulsing slimy muscle that blooms into a sensation of such utterly twisted deep BLISS that Jax sees stars.

It's licking his prostate. It's fucking wrapping itself AROUND IT and SQUEEZING DOWN on his prostate.

Jax's eyes cross.

"OH GOD! OH MY FUCKNG GOD!!!!"

He screeches like some feral mouse being grabbed by an owl. His hips ram backward as if trying to bash Caesar's brains in with his butt.

Caesar growls and hugs Jax tighter. Jax flails. Claws. Tears flow down his cheeks. He screams. The orgasm is like an out of body experience.

Jax collapses into Caesar's bulging, slimy arms. When he can see straight again, he looks up into that smirking, self satisfied face.

"Welcome home, faggot," Caesar murrs.

"That all you got, Daddy?" Jax replies.

Caesar's slow, evil grin says all Jax has to hear.

Jax is carried back to Caesar's gaudy apartment. Caesar changed the sheets while Jax was away. They're Valentine's Day red.

"So. When the fuck were you gonna tell me you danced? Hmm?" Caesar says while setting Jax onto his scarlet mattress.

"Moselli told you, didn't he?"

"More like whined about it. He was down at Happy Dan's to see you four nights in a row before he gave up and called me," Caesar informs Jax.

"I must have made quite an impression," Jax answers.

Caesar nods to a rhinestone-covered jewelry box.

"You see that? You can have everything in it if you show me every move the rat was hoping to see."

Jax pushes against Caesar's thick chest. Caesar allows Jax to roll him onto his back. Jax kneels on those jutting pectorals.

"Got any music?" Jax asks.

"Watch this shit," Caesar brags.

He presses a button on his rolex. Speakers pump to life with cheezy seductive jazzhop.

Jax covers his eyes with his tail.

"Daddy, you have no taste!"

Caesar laughs. He puts his arms behind his head.

"Shut up and dance for me, bitch."

Jax rises up straighter on his knees. His hips give a slow, suggestive bounce and sway, getting into the rhythm. Jax looks into those hungry golden eyes. The tip of his tongue pokes between his lips while his paws caress across his own chest and down the side of his stomach. They flow together up and behind his head. Jax pumps his hips as though being fucked by a phantom lover. Head back. Eyes closed. He feels Caesar slowly pinch and twist his nipples. He moans.

Caesar slaps the side of Jax's tight ass in encouragement. Jax leans over the huge frog on all fours. He pets his paws along Caesar's thick pecs like a kneading cat while continuing to sway his rump.

Caesar reaches backward to flip open the top of the box. He fishes out a hundred dollar bill. It's crisp and new. Jax can smell it when Caesar's palm rubs it up the side of his muzzle and along his cheek.

Jax kisses Caesar's thick wrist. Caesar massages the money through Jax's hair.

"Keep dancing, whore."

Jax gyrates his hips lower. Lower. His tight round mouse ass is grinding all over Caesar's crotch. Soaking it in the frog's musk.

Caesar fishes out another hundred. He uses the two bills as though washing around Jax's shoulder blades.

The two are breathing in time. Jax is hard again. He lets Caesar know what he wants. He presses his ass crack up against the underside of Caesar's rigid pole. Jax feels it jump.

Caesar has Jax put the money between his lips. He grips his cock. Jax raises his hips back up and scoots forward a little farther up Caesar's frame. Caesar's bloated head connects to Jax's pucker.

The huge frog holds his shaft steady with one hand. He grips Jax's shoulder to push. Jax clenches down. The money crinkles. His eyes squeeze shut. Caesar's size is divinely excruciating. The pressure builds and builds, the pain reminding Jax of overstretching his neck but far more intimate.

"I'm in," Caesar whispers.

The bills flutter from Jax's gasping maw.

"Don't stop."

Caesar grips a fist full of Jax's hair. The two men stare into each other's eyes while Jax flexes around the huge hard PRESENCE up inside of him.

Caesar's lips part to say something. Jax kisses him. He hugs Caesar's heavy neck with both arms. He pushes DOWN with his hips. Caesar's moans flood his mouth and throat in sound.

Jax. Rocks. His. Hips. Up and down. Up and DOWN. Caesar snorts at every firm downward push. He licks and laps inside Jax's mouth. Their tongues make love.

Jax can't tell where he ends and Caesar begins. He can't hear the music, though it must still play. Jax rides the frog's pelvis like a saddle.

They both part to take in fresh air. Caesar's out of sleazy quips. He just holds onto Jax's arms. The two of them are lost. Lost in each other. Lost in this moment. This perfect fuck.

Jax refuses to go harder or faster. Caesar doesn't demand it. Their pleasure soars upward together, twisting and twining through some invisible, nameless space.

They are animals in rut. In heat. Saliva drips from Jax's lips. His eyes slide up inside his head.

"More," Caesar begs. A heavy masculine whisper.

Jax's ass rams down on top of Caesar's balls. Slap. Slap. Slap. Slap. Caesar's hands on his hips. No words. No words for how good it all feels. Jax's body sings.

When Caesar cums, it's almost a surprise. The pressure quickly outweighs the pleasure, and Jax pulls off completely.

Caesar's mouth yawns wide. Jax smirks at the sheer amount the big frog's cock pumps out for him. Just for him.

They collapse together in the cum soaked bed. Jax falls asleep on top of Caesar's body, with the tree trunk arms encircling his body.

7

When Jax wakes up, he's alone. Moving his legs makes him wince, but also grin. Caesar's cum is a sticky resin between his ass cheeks.

Jax finds his way to the bathroom. The tub is so big it could hold Jax and Caesar at the same time. The thought makes Jax bite his lip.

Jax sinks gratefully under the warm water. He takes his time, rubbing lather through his fur. It soothes some of the aches out. Jax can still feel a bit sore in his most intimate areas, even after he climbs back out to dry himself.

Jax follows the sounds of the television into Caesar's living room. The huge goliath frog is seated shirtless, massive legs sprawled apart, filling his whole couch. He takes occasional sips of a tiny beer bottle dwarfed by one huge dark green hand.

Jax admires the way the light from the screen casts shadows deep within Caesar's delicious, plump pecs. Caesar glances at Jax. He doesn't say anything, but gives the mouse a wink.

Jax helps himself to a beer from the fridge, then turns to see what's playing on the screen. At first, Jax is going to comment on Caesar's good taste, because he recognizes the porno as one of his own favorites. Then Jax realizes it IS his copy, when the scene ends and an entirely new video starts.

Caesar chuckles.

"You're into some kinky shit, boy."

He sips his beer. Jax, face burning, pads closer.

"Caesar, you know that's theft."

Caesar eyes him, smirking.

"What're you gonna tell the cops? That your landlord stole your porn stash?"

The enormous amphibian gestures for Jax to sit in his lap. Jax obeys. Heavy strong hands work the remaining soreness out of Jax's slender back. Jax gives a soft moan.

"You wanna get off, from now on it's on MY terms," Caesar murmurs.

Caesar's fingers leave smears of his amphibious body oil in Jax's fur so that it stands up like it's been rubbed with hair gel.

"I just bathed, you know," Jax says.

Caesar smooches him with his wide flabby frog mouth.

"You could do with a bit of proper body oil, boy. Here..." he folds his massive arms behind his wedge shaped head with a smirk "...take some of mine."

The goliath frog's body oil glans that help prevent dehydration out of water shed it from between Caesar's pecs and under his pits. Moisture helps to lubricate it, so that if Caesar were to shower, the action of bathing himself also spreads it across all of his skin.

Now Caesar waits while Jax turns in his lap to face his enormous, perpetually horny landlord. Watches while Jax slips a dainty mouse paw deep between the slick smooth jutting pectorals, and emerges gleaming...nearly dripping...

Jax hesitates, then slaps his oiled palm against his own chest.

"Mmmf."

It smells like a concentrated form of Caesar. Not a mammalian body odor at all. Just the smell of Caesar's hide amplified. It completely overwhelms like a good cologne.

Jax looks into Caesar's eyes. And rubs the oil down across his perky pink little nipples Down his stomach. Trailing a fingertip around his own navel.

"Fuck yeah, boy," Caesar whispers. "...take it. Smear it in. Alllll over that pretty bod."

Jax imagines Caesar crushing him to the living room floor, pumping into his frail rodent body from above, while the porn continues to play. He slides both hands deep into the frog's warm armpits.

"Mmmmmh."

"Daddy," Jax whispers.

He rolls his tongue over his sweaty, oiled palm. Caesar gives a sleazy leer.

"You're not gonna rile me up that easily, you little whore."

Jax gropes him. Feeling it pulse in response.

"Aren't I?"

A broad, prehensile tongue slithers under Jax's chin.

"Not right now, boy. I gotta do this fuckin budget for the month. Up everybody's rent. Heh heh."

Jax feigns disappointment. That earns him a spank.

"You really want somethin to do, go grab me my laptop and give Daddy a back rub while he works."

Jax knows Caesar is watching his nude backside while he searches for the computer.

"It's in my office," Caesar says.

Jax realizes what Caesar wants him to do. Caesar's smirk confirms it. The mouse blushes down to his tail.

"Aw, c'mon, mouse. It's not like you aren't used to being naked in public."

Jax lounges against the hall door as though it's a mattress.

"I want my rent kept the same."

Caesar snorts."Making demands, now? I should nail you with my cock until that door snaps in half."

Jax twists the doorknob but keeps the door closed. He waits.

"Alright, you little bitch. Same rent next month. THEN I'm gonna jack it up DOUBLE and you're gonna thank me for it!"

Jax winks at him and slips into the hall utterly nude. He gets lucky. No one else is around while he makes his way along the squeaking floor, down the steps beneath the flaking pink painted ceiling, and into the landlord's office.

The room looks like the bastard child of a 70's porn studio photo lab and a private study. A ceiling fan hangs motionless from the ceiling. A desk covered in papers and lewd photographs stands beneath a window overlooking the main street, the blinds drawn.

It occurs to Jax what a massive breach of security this must be. Letting a tenant have free access to the records of everyone on Caesar's properties has to violate more than one law.

Jax unplugs the laptop. It's a simple grey rectangle with four rhinestone stickers stuck to the corners of the lid. A decal of a frog's head with tongue extended leaves no doubt who's computer it is.

Jax returns to Caesar's room. Caesar pat pats the sheets beside him. Jax brings him the laptop. Caesar rolls onto his heavy roid gut while flipping up the lid and activating the screen.

Jax admires the mottled green and tan landscape of the frog's back. How the shoulder blades crumple and curl upward like two sides of an ocean strait, with heavy tapered lines from the bottom of the lats drawing the gaze to Caesar's thick lower back and plump ass cheeks.

Jax slides a palm across the frog's hide. It's dry on Caesar's back, like origami paper. The skin is bumpy with delicate warted ridges that form a spotted pattern - a great "V" of black and ebony green that floats like an archipelago in a lagoon of soft green-brown of skin.

"You like those manly ridges, boy?" Caesar murrs, typing.

Jax crawls onto the warm huge back. He hugs the massive frog from behind.

"Mmmmm. Yeah," Caesar murmurs. "Get your hands into them. Yeah. Feel 'em."

Jax sets to work massaging his nude landlord. Wherever Caesar says to rub, he rubs. Where he says to squeeze, Jax uses both paws to bear down on. If Caesar says to kiss it, Jax does.

Jax kisses his landlord's ass while he increases the rent due next month by another ten percent.

"All except you, my little mouse whore."

"Mmmmh. Daddyyyy."

"Fuuuuck. Shove that scrawny bitch bod of yours up against me. Yeaaah, just like that. Daddy likes that. Mmmmmh heh heh heh... I can feel you humpin me, boy. You nasty. Horny. Little. Slut."

Jax clings to the huge dirty mouthed frog. Using his body like the pillows he used to hump as a horny teen. Even as he does, Jax smiles. Because he's going to budget as if his rent HAD gone up, and put that much more money into his jar.

8

Mid-month is Jax's time to count out his savings. It's the farthest away from rent day, when Caesar is least horny. Outside, the wind whips the dry leaves to rattling on the branches.

$1,000.....$1,200...

Jax pulls the hoodie over his big ears. Caesar usually starts up the heat by this time of year or he gets so sluggish its like he's permanently drunk.

$2,000....

He hears a faint virulent curse from all the way in the basement. Something heavy and metal clanks. Oh. That's why it's not on yet.

Jax focuses on the bundles of cash. It's going to be close. Two grand. It's not THAT much to save up, not with the amount of tips Jax is getting these days.

$3,000.....$3,100...

Jax's stomach rumbles. He contemplates eating another tin of pre-flavored tuna. His hips and abs ache. He's been dreaming of sushi and pho.

$3,700.

There's a distant shudder clank-clank-clank. The lights dim a bit but then return to normal as a soft hum fills the room. Warm air trickles in from the floor vents, smelling of dust and burned hair.

Jax kneels there on his mattress, his money spread out in front of him in piles of hundreds. He counts it all again to be sure. The number doesn't change.

Jax puts his paws over his mouth. He stifles a sudden laugh that turns into a happy sob. It's over.

For a few moments, the mouse looks around his cramped tiny bedroom. There's no one to celebrate with. Then his thoughts finally start to slide into place, following old familiar patterns. Following the train of the fantasy Jax has recited in his head every night on his way back from work.

The fantasy always begins with a celebration feast at his favorite restaurant. That'll have to wait. But at least now he can use some money from his next night of work for real food.

Then there's apartment downpayments, calling up the bouncers from work to figure out a good packing day, putting in his two week notice with Reece, and finally breaking the news to Caesar.

Jax swallows. He doesn't know how the big frog will react. With how much Caesar rakes in these days, he's upped his roids and positively bloated in size. Not to mention libido.

Jax rolls the cash back into bundles secured with elastic bands. He puts them back into the glass jar in two neat rows. The jar goes under his bed this time.

Jax puts his paws over his mouth. He stifles a sudden laugh that turns into a happy sob. It's over.

For a few moments, the mouse looks around his cramped bedroom. There's no one to celebrate with. Then his thoughts start to slide into place, following old familiar patterns of the fantasy Jax has recited in his head every night on his way back from work.

The fantasy always begins with a celebration feast at his favorite restaurant. That'll have to wait. But at least now he can use some money from his next night of work for real food.

Then there's apartment downpayments, calling up the bouncers from work to figure out a good packing day, putting in his two week notice with Reece, and finally breaking the news to Caesar.

Jax swallows. He doesn't know how the big frog will react. With how much Caesar rakes in these days, he's upped his roids and positively bloated in size, not to mention libido.

Jax rolls the cash back into bundles secured with elastic bands. He puts them into the glass jar in two neat rows. The jar goes under his bed.

Jax lies on his back, staring at the ceiling, letting the reality wash over him. He feels like an inmate being granted parole. A prisoner whose warden is going to demand one last glorious fuck.

9

"You're NOT getting your deposit back."

Caesar sits on the edge of his couch in a sleeveless shirt and neon green boxers, thick elbows resting on his knees.

Jax stands on the cushions behind that broad back. He mollifies his landloard with slow rubs all down those bloated arms. Jax can see the small dots from the roid injections.

"Come on, Caesar. Let's not end things in a fight. You know how well I've kept my apartment."

If he didn't know better, Jax would think the big frog was pouting. He gives one bicep a squeeze.

Caesar flexes it, overflowing the mouse's palm. Despite his determination to focus through the frog's seduction, Jax lets out a soft moan. It really is BIGGER.

"Sure you don't want to stay? Keep getting all of this?" Caesar teases.

Jax rolls his eyes fondly.

"I'm sure you'll have a new guy in a week."

"Is that what you think?"

Caesar stands, shrugging off Jax's touch. He turns his huge amphibious bulk to face the mouse, webbed hands on his hips like an angry father.

Jax blinks in surprise. Caeser isn't teasing any more.

"I know I'm a stud, boy, but you think I hammer every slut's brains out like I do yours? That you're just some little trick I squeeze for pay?"

"Aren't I?" Jax asks in genuine confusion.

"Oh, fuck you."

Caesar turns away. He paces toward the kitchen entrance, but pauses at the doorway - a towering avocado hulk in white and blue clothing that strains at every seam. Jax has to pull his groping eyes away.

"So where's the new place?" Caesar asks over one shoulder.

"Charleston Terrace. North side."

Caesar grunts. "I don't know that one."

He turns to face Jax again. Every detail of his immense pecs stands out beneath his undershirt. The barrel of his roid gut distends out so far that it peeks out the bottom into the open air, jiggling with every heavy step Caesar makes.

"I suppose I should be grateful you were man enough to give me more than a fucking intent to vacate letter, hunh?"

"Hey!" Jax flares. "That's not fair! You know I'm not like that!"

"Well how would I know? I'm just your landlord, right?"

Jax feels his instinct to turn his head and clam up. Not this time. The mouse stands toe to toe with the massive frog.

"Yes you are. And I'm leaving. And if you're going to be such a BITCH about it, then...then fuck you, too!"

Jax heads for the front door.

"What did you just call me?"

Jax puts his hand on the knob.

"I've met guys like you, down at the club," Jax said as he turned it. "The ones who think they're in love just because we save the best lap dances for them. Well, newsflash, Caesar, that sort of 'affection' is about as real as your 'low monthly rates' were."

Jax yanks the door open. Caesar pushes it shut again with a slam.

"Let me go!" Jax yells.

Caesar yanks Jax up the door by one fist full of the mouse's shirt.

"I'll teach you to talk back to me like that!"

The huge tongue snaps out. It crushes Jax's balls and sheath into a living rubber band of squeezing, pulsing pressure right through his pants. Jax's cock pushes out like a tube of lipstick.

Jax shoves both hands hard against those unstoppable, sweaty, slimy frog pecs. His arms tremble. Then buckle.

Caesar crushes him flat to the closed door. His musk is everywhere. Brutish webbed paws tear open Jax's fly. Jax's face is shoved...FORCED...into the crevice of the frog's pecs where they burst out the top of his collar. He tastes the butter of Caesar's natural oil and sweat. His mouth floods. He's lapping it. Licking it up like a thirsty dog at a bowl.

Caesar pulls Jax free of his pants. They flop to the door mat. Then come the mouse's briefs. The pulsing cucumber of Caesar's cock griiiiinnnndddsss itself from mouse taint to mouse crack. It knuckles at Jax's entrance.

"Nnnnnnhhh!"

The top of Jax's head rubs back and forth against the door behind him. But he can't form the word. He can't say it. Then he can't speak at all. Hundreds of pounds of frog muscle surround Jax. The familiar pain-pleasure comes from between Jax's legs, white hot and beautiful, shooting up his spinal cord like there's some chakra connection between ass and brain and mouse dick. Caesar POUNDS Jax against his own front door, fucking him through the hole in the frog's boxers like some horny abusive husband.

Jax claws at Caesar's shirt, pulling and crumpling it up off of Caesar's body until it comes free. He clings to the ravaging amphibian with vibrating arms and feels Caesar crush him even tighter. Jax teases the underside of the thrusting shaft and the flopping heavy balls with his mouse tail.

Now Jax understands. Caesar is saying with his cock what he can't articulate in words. The way he plunges headlong into Jax's body... the shaking desperate feverish passion...

Jax's first boyfriend signed up for the army after high school. Their last night together was just like this - a frantic tangle of panting bodies, clinging hands, and words neither of them could say.

Jax opens himself up for Caesar. Relaxes his anus. Rides the enormous throbbing tool until he sees stars. EVERYTHING Jax's hands hold onto is taught and huge. Like Caesar's muscles are threatening to burst through the skin. Caesar can barely fit in his own doorway these days.

Jax hugs the heavy brutish short neck.

"I'll miss you, Daddy. I will," he whispers.

Caesar quivers. "You won't give me your fucking money any more, maybe I'll just take what I want from you you in CALORIES! Mmnnngghhhrrr!"

Caesar's huge frog maw OPENS. He actually manages to stuff Jax's entire head up to his neck inside. He's suckling on it like candy. The tongue suffocating him. Curling around his throat. Smearing down his spine. His chest.

Jax's dream comes back to him. The dream of Caesar as a giant, devouring his little mouse prey. His mind is a rubber band. Taut. Vibrating. Snapping.

Jax's scream makes Caesar release him from the mouth hold. It's so loud that people walking by on the street look up in alarm.

Jax doesn't even recognize the feeling of his own dick. It feels like its destroying itself from the inside out. He keeps screaming. He has to. The ecstasy of it. The sheer pumping, splattering BLISS.

Jax collapses back into his own body, half conscious. Moaning. Head spinning. He clings to his one source of solidity. He feels Caesar's hand holding the back of his head.

Caesar pulls out, unfinished. He carries Jax back to the couch. Then there's a soft, muffled croaking sound.

Jax looks up. Caesar jerks his head away, but can't hide the tears mixing into his body oil.

"Jax. I'll... I'll pay you...."

Caesar sniffles. He hug crushes Jax tight.

"I'll let you stay rent free. Please."

Jax rubs a hand over the great mound of Caesar's right pectoral.

"You really don't know shit about romance, do you, Daddy?"

Caesar bursts into a soft laugh, wiping his eyes.

"Was only ever good at one thing," he mutters. Some of his old swagger comes back and he throbs his pecs back and forth. "Okay, maybe two things."

Jax looks into Caesar's face.

"You'd really want me to live with you?"

"That's what I've been trying to tell you, fucking rodent. You wanna call it nothing but infatuation, fine. That's fair. That's the sort of guy I am. But the way you dance... the way you fuck... the words you say to me, Jax..."

Caesar actually nuzzles Jax tenderly.

"I'll go fucking crazy without you."

Jax rubs the side of the wedge of frog head.

"Caesar, I've been working and dreaming of leaving this apartment for three years."

Caesar scoffs. He smirks down at Jax.

"Oh, this dump? You think if you were my personal bith, I'd let you live like this?"

The huge frog slides Jax off his lap. He half hops up and fumbles for something in his bedroom. Caesar returns so suddenly, it's like he's afraid Jax might have up and left while he was out of sight.

"Here."

Caesar holds out his phone for Jax to take. He taps and swipes the screen until a different apartment complex comes up. Clearly higher end. Wrought iron balconies. Potted flowers along the window sills. It's even a lake front property. Jax holds the phone in both hands, looking at it.

Caesar smooches his head.

"What do you say, Jax? You wouldn't have to work at the club any more. Wouldn't need to pay for a damn thing you didn't want to. Swear to God."

Jax bites his lip.

"Caesar. You're the hottest guy I know."

He gently hands the frog his phone.

"But that's not enough to keep me."

Caesar sets the phone on his awful, glitzy end table without comment. The two sit there in silence. Jax's cum slides like so much egg yolk down Caesar's roid gut. The frog's natural oils prevent it from drying out. Eventually, it'll soak into his boxers. Caesar doesn't seem to care.

Finally, Caesar says, "Could you use a hand packing?"

"Caesar, you don't have to."

Caesar looks at him, dry eyed and about as serious as Jax has ever seen him.

"Just anwer the fucking question, bi....Jax."

"Well, the bouncers from work were already going to help me. But...yeah I guess I would rather have you instead."

Jax fixes Caesar with as stern an eye as a mouse can manage.

"No funny business. Promise me."

Caesar chuckles, but nods and takes Jax's hand with a squeeze.

"I'll behave. Swear on my money."

Caesar looks down at his plush pale carpet.

"Could I still come see you? Once you're settled in?"

Jax feels his cheeks warm.

"Like a real boyfriend, you mean?"

Caesar looks at him.

"I can try, at least."

Jax gives the ridged knobs between the frog's eyes a fond rub.

"You're awful boyfriend material, Daddy. But yes. You can try."

"And I'll buy you some flowers and..."

"...oh shut up and kiss me, you stupid frog."