Fate of the narrator
Fate of the narrator
By Strega
As soon as he saw the fossa, Haja ran.
He was away from the troupe and low in a tree when it happened, picking berries from a bush. He caught a glimpse of a sleek, brown-furred body and long tail, and without thinking he went up the trunk as fast as his paws could carry him. If he could reach the thinnest branches that would support his weight, he'd leap to similar limbs on the next tree; the fossa, nimble but heavier, wouldn't be able to follow. Probably.
He knew better than most that ring-tailed lemurs like himself were a favorite food of the catlike creatures. One by one his friends had fallen to the predators, some torn apart, some swallowed whole and wiggling. Most horrible of all, he had twice seen other lemurs - one a relative stranger, one a good friend - sucked struggling into the sex of a female fossa. The others in the troupe hadn't believed him, but he'd seen it happen - muzzle, body, legs and finally long, ringed tail ingested into the female's vulva. A purple furred, bare-tailed stranger that he'd not warned in time had suffered the same fate, though that time he'd run before the poor soul was fully consumed.
What happened to them in her sex he did not know, for he had not lingered to find out. Nor did he linger now - not until he was high in the tree and was sure it was not following.
After a minute of panicked flight he reached the high branches of the tree and was across from even thinner branches the next tree over. He almost leapt, for it might be right behind him, but leaps like this held their own risks. If he missed the branch he aimed at it was a long way to the ground, and if it wasn't behind him it was probably below him. The thought of falling toward jaws yawned wide to receive him was enough to make him pause.
Haja shivered and looked behind him, then down. There was so sign of...wait, there it was. It wasn't below, waiting for him to fall, or anywhere in his tree. He could see its rump and lashing tail, about where he'd spotted it before fleeing up the trunk. It seemed to be tugging at something.
Haja's friends had been too curious for their own good; he was determined to not be. Though he'd never heard of fossas hunting in packs, he peered to and fro before he moved one step down the trunk. Looking and listening, he sensed no hint that anything other than the obvious - the single fossa engaged in its mysterious activity - was happening.
Only then did he descend a few steps, telling himself that he would not go as far as the ground no matter what. He climbed down a few feet, paused to look around, and then climbed a few more. Before he reached the next big branch he saw that the fossa was caught in a snare.
Haja grinned. Nothing warmed his heart like seeing something bad happen to a fossa. Twice he'd seen them fall from the branches while pursuing his kin, and one had hit the ground so hard it'd crawled off whimpering. He'd love nothing better than to see this one throttle itself in the wire snare.
He climbed lower to make sure he saw what he thought he saw. It could be a trick...but it didn't look like one. The fossa's foreparts were well and truly tangled in the snare. He even saw a bit of blood on its shoulder. He twisted a seedpod from the tree as he watched the fossa squirm.
The pod bounced off the fossa's rump with a meaty smack. As it yelped and swore Haja gathered more, then climbed out onto a branch above it and flung the pods downward with all his might.
"Stop that," the fossa snarled, but Haja only grinned more broadly. He backed up along the branch and slung the next pod in beneath the fossa's thrashing tail. That was when he noticed it was a female.
Pelting the fossa with seedpods was getting boring, and Haja was beginning to entertain certain ideas. He looked around from his vantage point. Once more he looked around for other fossa, but it seemed she was the only one.
When he was sure she was alone he descended the last few meters to the ground. Scurrying forward on all fours he snatched up a fallen branch and whacked the fossa across her haunches.
"Ow! Stop!" Her hind paws kicked up leaf litter and her tail lashed, but though she was twice his size she was also well and truly stuck. Haja whacked her rump again and again, dodging her blind kicks and ignoring the long tail that thumped into his legs.
Fossa were the bogeyman mother lemurs used to keep their cubs in line. "Wander too far from the troupe," his mother would say, "And the bad fossa will eat you right up." It was true, too. Haja had lost track of friends and relatives who'd been careless for one moment too long and ended up inside a fossa. When he saw a fossa dropping, often it'd be thick with gray, white and black fur. He took it all out on her.
"Stupid evil thing!", he cried, punctuating each word with a whack. "Eat us will you!" He was sure now this was the same fossa whose hungry sex had devoured his friends.
He was panting, the stick heavy in his paw. What indignity could he heap in her next? Maybe stuff the stick up her--
Then he looked down. Was it the glimpse of her sex he had, every time her tail whipped to the side? Was it the unheard-of opportunity to abuse a larger female? (In the troupe, the females were in charge. If a male wanted to mate, she'd better want it too.) Was it just excitement? Whatever the reason, he looked down and saw his black-skinned cock was swollen and hard. He looked at it, then up at the struggling fossa, and grinned.
"When you talk to the other fossa, tell them it was Haja who had you," he said, and stepped forward. He caught her with her tail to the side, hooked his forepaws over her haunches just as he would with a lemur female, and before she realized what was happening his shaft slid in. Not into her sex, for he had seen what happened to males who got near that, but up her ass.
She let out a surprised squeak and increased her struggle, but there was nowhere for her to go. She couldn't back up due to the snare, couldn't go forward without its barbs digging in, and when she squirmed from side to side he just walked along with her. Lemur females were usually larger than males and often moved during mating, so it seemed the most natural thing in the world to move with her, thrusting each time she stopped.
"Stop it!" she wailed, but Haja kept pumping his hips. It'd been a long time since a female deigned to visit with him, and he'd never had a lover half as exotic as the fossa. Big, strong, and fierce, squirming to and fro, she fought to throw him off her back. Haja clung tight, more aroused with every thrust. In little more than a minute his ringed tail twitched, and he chirped his pleasure as he spent his seed.
As he dismounted, grinning from ear to ear, the fossa looked back over her shoulder. "Is that all?" she said disdainfully. "I had thought if ever a lemur got the better of me, he'd have more to offer than that."
Haja's grin vanished, and he smacked her across the rump with the recovered stick. "It was enough, wasn't it? I got the better of you all right."
She sniffed. "And I will tell my friends that a tiny lemur dick wasn't the least bit exciting. I've seen you people mate, and I thought you might have something to interest me. No, instead it was just boring."
"Shut up! You're the one who's stuck." She squirmed to the side again, and muscles worked beneath her sleek pelt. She really was beautiful in her savage way. Haja looked down at his wet, dripping shaft. He'd done his best, and the hateful female mocked him. Even if he'd not just mated, even if he were rock-hard still, a lemur wasn't going to be able to make her suffer that way.
She laughed, and her anus winked at him. Haja saw red. He'd damn well make her suffer! Pulling her tail aside, Haja punched her in the asshole as hard as he could.
But as his fist hurtled toward her she straightened her hind legs, raising her rump several inches. There was a wet smack and Haja's arm disappeared past the elbow in her sex. She moaned and shivered, her tail thumping against his side. Finally he'd made her react; his arm did what his dick could not. Except that the last thing he'd wanted to do was to so much as touch her sex, much less stick his arm in!
Desperately he threw himself backward, using his whole weight to try to pull out. But already her sex had clamped down in a muscular lock, wet and gripping around his forearm and wrist. His retreat came to a jarring stop and pain shot through his shoulder. He stumbled and fell, held up only by the fleshy grip of her vulva.
"Well now," she said with a grin, and with a circular motion of her head freed it from the snare. "That's a little better. But did I mention that a fossa's dick is as big as your whole arm? I think I could handle a little more." She let out a long, shuddering growl, and the muscles of her sex rippled. A series of muscular contractions began at the entrance and moved inward, rolling over his forearm. Bit by bit, despite his frantic efforts to get his feet under him and brace against the pull, his arm was pulled deeper. His elbow was gone into the slick wetness, his upper arm disappearing.
Haja's eyes went wide as a still stronger contraction rippled through her vulva, not pushing him out, but pulling even more of him in. The last of his white-furred arm was sucked out of sight and his shoulder threatened to follow. His other hand fumbled for the stick, just out of reach.
"Wait," he said as the pull forced his cheek up against her rump. His face was much too close to the fleshy slit of her sex, distended though it already was around his arm. He tried to get his feet under him, but she leaned forward, spreading her hindpaws wide and flipping her tail up out of the way. He stumbled, dropped the stick, and fell into the sucking hole beneath her tail. The last thing he saw before his muzzle was pulled into her sex was the fossa disentangling her forepaws from the snare, just as she had slipped her muzzle free before.
Another contraction pulsed inward along the tunnel of her sex and everything went dim and pink. His muzzle, then his face was sucked in, taken into the wet grip and rippling musculature of her vagina. She shivered and yowled, but it was getting harder to hear her as his ears were pressed flat to the sides of his head and engulfed. The lubricating fluids of her vagina slicked down his fur as he slid deeper, his other shoulder following his face into fossa's hungry sex. Haja finally managed to get his feet under him, or under her rather, and locked his legs out straight to stop her. At least, he tried to stop her. Despite his best efforts the relentless pull of her vulva forced him to bend at the waist. Bit by bit the lips of her sex slid down over his body until he was to the waist in the hot, slippery tunnel of her vulva. Fluid dripped down his belly and off his cock as some of the mucus slicking him down for ingestion escaped.
He was being eaten. Swallowed, not by her jaws, but by her sex. No one had believed him when he described what he saw, the others he'd seen disappear into the fossa's nether bits. "No," they'd said, rolling their eyes at his foolishness. "Fossas eat us, but with their jaws. If you were the size of a fossa cub then maybe, but as you are? No. Impossible." One elder had accused him of lusting after the catlike beasts!
His tail thrashed as her sex engulfed his hips. For a moment it seemed it would stop there, with his legs thrust stiffly forward beneath her belly, his feet dug into the leaf-litter. That lasted until the fossa growled and sat down. His rump slammed into the ground with her whole weight atop it, and with a horrible wet squelch his hips were driven into her snatch. She sat there for a moment, wriggling her hindquarters so to force him still deeper. His legs were pinned beneath her body, his toes curling in a futile effort to grip her fur. When she rose to her feet again his legs hung from her sex, thighs half-engulfed.
He kicked, but only hit her tail, and when he tried to wrap his legs around it she moved it out of the way. His thighs were being taken, sucked in by the rhythmic contractions of her vulva, and as his legs were trapped against one another his ability to resist, already feeble, faded. Up inside her body, at the end of the muscular tunnel of sex, his face and shoulders emerged in a wet, clinging space. Another contraction and half his body was in. He pushed against the walls, but they were yielding and slick. It had to be the fossa's womb, but things were supposed to grow here and be pushed out. Not the other way around!
He'd finally managed to excite her. Each pulsation of her sex rubbed the walls against his wet fur, and with each throb her pulse stepped up a beat. The already slick walls dripped with fluid now and a shiver began to grow beneath the surface. He felt the fossa squirm around him and heard her mewl as her excitement grew. A lemur's cock was far too small to satisfy her, but the same could not be said of a whole lemur.
When her vulva clenched down in a long, shuddering climax, the only parts of Haja still exposed to the air were his feet and tail. He rode it out from the inside, pushing futilely at the walls of her womb. Soft though they seemed, there was hard muscle on the other side. When the walls finished trembling and her pulse slowed, Haja had a moment of hope. Surely she was sated now and would push him back out. No doubt she would try to eat him, but at least he'd have a chance at escape. Not like this flesh-tight, wet coffin of a place.
Her vagina pulsed, but not in the way he'd hoped. His feet were drawn into the sucking wetness of her sex, more of his legs were expelled into her womb, and as he curled up helplessly inside her he felt slow, rhythmic contractions pulling his tail in as well. It was slower now, but she was still sucking him in. Bit by bit, ring by furry ring his twitching tail was ingested. Swallowing it up took as long as she'd needed to suck in his whole body, but there came a time when the last bit of sodden tail emerged into her womb to join the rest of him.
Haja felt the bulge he made in her abdomen, too far down to be in her stomach. Had she done it merely for the pleasure, and if so how long would she keep him here? Would she leave him there to rot? Would she keep him there until the air ran out, then expel his body? Worst of all, perhaps, would she use him as a toy, pushing him out and sucking him back in each time she was in need of sex?
One possibility had eluded him. Curled in the wet confines of the fossa's womb, Haja felt a change in the space surrounding him. More thick fluid was being produced, dripping from the walls onto his pelt, and his his nose, shealthless cock, and exposed skin began to sting. The walls rippled, kneading the slime into his pelt, and slowly the burning sensation spread.
Haja craved cool air and sunlight, but instead had a sweltering fleshy prison. He knew what was happening now, impossible though he'd thought it before meeting her. "So," Haja thought, as the fluid churned and gurgled around him, "It seems I do not need to be in a stomach to be digested, after all."
Exhausted, overheated, and almost out of air, he felt around for the tunnel. Perhaps she was tired, too. Perhaps he could push his way out.
*****
She sprawled out on the leaf litter, abdomen swollen and twitching. At first it caused her an occasional twinge, balanced out by the shivering pleasure of her fading orgasm, but as the lemur in her womb weakened the struggle diminished. When that was finally gone, so was the lemur. Far up inside her sex he smothered, wrapped in flesh and doused in a steadily increasing flow of acidic fluid.
When a long belch burbled out of her vulva, carrying with it the air from his lungs, it was over. Like every other creature she'd sucked in he would be digested; flesh would liquefy and be absorbed into the walls of her womb. In a day or two she'd expel a mass of lemur fur and softened bone from her sex, and the lemur's adventure through her body would be over. The rest of him, through mechanisms unclear to her, would make its way out through her digestive system. With her, every way into her body led to the same end.
To her knowledge she was unique. A fossa, male or female, would gladly gulp down a lemur should one fall between its paws. The occasional male would rape his ringtailed prey, stretching the unfortunate primate around his formidable spiny dick before dispatching it down his gullet. Any encounter that started with a fossa catching a lemur ended with a belch, but only she, as far she knew, could suck a lemur into her sex and consume him there.
She'd found out quite by accident. An amorous suitor, hoping to entice her to couple, had thrust first his tongue and then his nose into her sex. To her surprise she had clamped down and sucked in his head, and despite his frantic efforts to escape and her own astonishment the rest of him followed after. The overpowering orgasm that washed over her as his hips were pulled in forever spoiled her for any lesser form of mating. The male was less pleased, but three days later a ball of brown fur and some fragments of mostly dissolved bone appeared from her sex, and that was the end of him. She went on, transferring her attentions from sharp-fanged and -clawed fossa to lemur males. Typically she had to catch them and stuff part of them into her sex to get things started, but once in a while a foolish or particularly horny one would volunteer - with a bit of trickery to help him along, naturally. Feigning being trapped in a snare was only her newest stratagem.
There were drawbacks to her unique ability. Even when she mated with fossa and resisted the urge to suck them in, she never became pregnant. Most likely her stomach-like womb dissolved their seed before it could take root. How would a cub grow in there in any case? It seemed to her that a space able to dissolve a whole lemur or fossa would do the same to any cub. She would forever remain, if not a virgin, then at least barren.
Miary shrugged. If she couldn't have cubs to swell her belly, she had lemurs to do it instead. And perhaps someday she'd have cubs another way. She was bigger and stronger than any other fossa she'd met, male or female, and if something should happen to to a female with cubs - something like disappearing into the body of a larger, stronger female for example - well, someone would need to take care of that female's cubs.
For now she was content. In effect she had two stomachs, but though she often filled both, one meal was all that was needed to keep her happy. Miary curled up around the newest bulge in her midsection and dozed. With that, the tale of her latest victim came to an end. Even he, wary and terrified, had been unable to resist the urge to come close, and ultimately he'd provided her with both pleasure and a meal. The welts across her rump were a small price to pay.