FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

Andrew Reynard stared at himself in the mirror, mild panic wracking him. Yellow-brown eyes stared back from under furrowed brows, as he whispered to his reflection.

"Ok. Mom and Dad are out of town. And you're all by yourself. But that's ok. You can do this, it doesn't have to happen again."

The look of skepticism on the reflection's face did nothing to reassure him. Nor did a closer inspection of the rest of the reflection.

Pale reddish fur covered a lithe body, and a slightly paler red-grey highlighted his fingers, toes, belly and chest. Delicate, pointed ears poked up from his head, and a tiny, almost negligible muzzle protruded from his face. He turned slightly, revealing a luscious, rounded butt, and the everlasting source of his shame and desire...an utter lack of tail.

Oh, it was normal for hybrids to be born with mixed characteristics, and the circumstances of his conception definitely qualified him for some weirdness. Mom and Dad were human preds, and he'd been conceived during a swinger orgy. The doctors had been startled, but with a little gene therapy, he'd been assured survival.

But he'd been born with a tail. And at the age of two, he'd eaten it.

His fingers found the tiny stump where his tail had once been, and he rubbed it with a sense of shame and excitement. Somehow, he'd never gotten over the taste. A lot of little boys sucked their thumb, but he often woke up to find that he'd swallowed his, as well as most of his hand and part of his arm.

Like most hybrids, he was sterile, so he'd been legally allowed to take regen therapy, which allowed him to reform, extended his lifespan, and ensured a future as a prey animal in high class restaurants. But the therapy had only been begun after his tail had vanished into his ravenous tummy, and it had never come back.

On cue, said tummy rumbled. Andy fought down the urge to put his hand in his mouth and ran downstairs. A quick look out the back window showed him Mom and Dad's herd of prey animals, humans, lagomorphids, and some extremely valuable bovinids. His mind turned to the human they'd had for dinner last night, the way the frightened boy had writhed as they'd carved slices from his rump, and his eyes drifted closed.

Mmm, he thought, yeah, I think I'll have a human...wow, I can almost taste...

His eyes shot open as he realized that, no, he really was tasting fresh meat. He looked disconsolately at his forearm, and the slowly regenerating chunk of it that was missing.

It was the congenital gene therapy that had done it, according to his doctors. Somehow, he'd gotten mixed around so that his mind saw his body as food, and his body had nothing but pleasure receptors. Things that were supposed to hurt felt good, and it was only because of the regen therapy that he wasn't dead a thousand times over by now.

Andy slowly chewed and swallowed his bite of himself, and sighed. "Oh, fuck it."

He grabbed a drop cloth out of the cupboard, hauled it into the living room, and laid it out in front of the couch. He ran back into the kitchen for a knife and meat fork, and went back out to get ready to eat. He grabbed the remote and flicked the TV on, hunted around until he found a show he liked, and sat back.

His eyes fell on his feet, as they often did when he gave in to his cravings. He knew, no matter what he told himself, that once he started eating he wouldn't stop until he was done. Starting with the feet meant that he could go longer, since he could use his hands to hold himself in place.

With a mixed sigh of resignation and pleasure, he lifted his left foot to his mouth and sniffed at it. Like many young furpeople, his body put out a faint musk; also like many young furpeople, he found his musk intriguing to the point of intoxicating.

Unlike most young furpeople, his musk made him ravenously hungry. Mom and Dad had figured out early on that the easiest way to get him to eat something other than himself was to rub him all over his prey so it smelled like him.

As always, the faint tang set his mouth watering, and he shoved his foot into his mouth. Sharp teeth bit down and he moaned as a warm sense of well being washed through him at the feeling of his big toe being severed. He swiftly gulped it down, and took another bite, shuddering happily as the rest of his toes slid down his throat after the first. Unable to help it, he suckled at the faint trickling of blood that washed out before his healing sealed the wound, drawing a slight whimper of frustration from the small fox as the pleasure began to fade.

Savagely, he tore into the ball of his foot, shredding the delicate meat with a squeal of pleasure. He loved the feeling of being eaten, loved the taste of his own flesh. Lost in the flavors and sensations, he gulped his foot down in a dozen ripping bites.

With the last bite, ripping off the heel and swallowing it with barely a bit of gnawing, Andy's pleasure hit max and he came, coating his tummy fur with sticky globs. He laughed breathlessly as his orgasm subsided, and lapped lazily at the stump where his foot had been. It would grow back in an hour or so, if he stopped now.

He'd tried that before, even succeeded a few times. But most of the time his nose was full of his smell, and his lips tasted like fresh Andy meat and really, what could it hurt to eat the other foot?

This time he didn't even bother. Mom and Dad were out for the night, and they were going to yell at him for eating himself anyway, since he'd used the drop cloth. So as long as he was eating, he might as well go on.

With that in mind, he happily began ripping chunks out of his calf, growling and snarling a little as he hunted, caught, and ate himself, giggling in between bites at the thought. His left calf lasted all of fifteen minutes under the voracious little foxes teeth, and he felt his next orgasm building up even as the edge of hunger began to fade.

He forced himself to stop when he got to his thigh, and started over with his right foot. This time, he savored it a little, crushing the delicate toes in his back teeth, taking smaller, daintier bites of the soft sole. He sighed happily as little jolts of pleasure shot up his leg straight to his crotch and he murred softly as the last bite of his foot vanished into his mouth.

He kept up the slow pace as long as possible, but the feelings were too much and as he started to come for the second time he frantically ripped and tore at the last bits of flesh on his calf, before falling back to buck and writhe as he splattered more cum onto his tummy.

He lay there, gasping softly, feeling the first hints that he might be filling up. He glanced down and saw his legs slowly starting to reform, and sighed. The problem with eating himself was that some of what he ate went to healing him right away, so he had to eat a lot to get full.

He smiled. That was ok, though. Today, he could eat as much as he wanted. And there was something he'd only gotten to do twice that he was really looking forward to.

He sat up, and bent over as if he was going to suck himself. He did that pretty often, actually, with his own special version of a happy ending nearly every time. Hiding the fact that he'd eaten his retractable cock was much easier than hiding a missing limb.

But this time he had something special in mind. With a giggle, he took a bite out of his inner thigh. The sensitive meat sent a blast of flavor coursing through his mouth and had him rock hard instantly. Snarling happily, he whipped his head aside and ripped a chunk out of the other thigh. His cock throbbed and pulsed, and he had to grab it and squeeze it at the base to ensure that he didn't come too soon.

He alternated thighs, tearing chunk after chunk out of some of his most sensitive muscles, keeping a deathgrip on his cock to hold off the orgasm that was long past due. In minutes, he'd devoured both, powering through some of the meatiest parts of his body at breakneck speed. He jammed his freed hand under the small of his back, and pushed the best part up where he could get to it.

With a small sigh of ecstasy, he opened his mouth as wide as he could, and sank his teeth into one luscious ass cheek. He moaned delightedly, chewing at the soft muscle. Growling, he ripped it free, feeling a small chunk of his back go with it. Squealing, he tightened his grip on his cock until it started turning purple and went to town, shredding and gnawing.

The last bite finally passed his lips, and not a moment too soon. The pressure in his balls was so intense he was nearly blacking out. A final burst of strength let him latch onto his cock, sinking his teeth into the sheath to hold on.

Cum poured out of his dick and he flopped around, unable to brace himself with just his arms. Halfway through the orgasm, exhaustion filled him and he bit down, taking his dick off to flop back and let his cum spurt up into to air and patter down to join the first to loads on his tummy.

He lay there, tummy bulging with his entire lower half. He smiled muzzily and took a few moments to stroke his tummy, smoothing the cum into his fur as he watched his tummy rapidly begin compressing back to its original size as he digested his legs. He'd eaten enough to slow his healing factor down considerably. He might, might heal enough to hide his little snacking spree from his parents, but he really didn't care at this point.

He waited until his tummy had subsided enough to see over it, and turned the volume up on his cartoons. He reached over and picked up his cutlery, and carefully stabbed himself in the tummy.

Carving shallowly to keep his guts inside him, he sliced off a section of tummy bacon and popped it into his mouth with a happy sigh. Cum marinated tummy bacon always tasted best.

He snacked on his tummy for about an hour, eating slowly as he watched cartoons. The wounds sealed over as he ate, but it would be a couple days before he did any sit-ups. Humming quietly, he looked at the clock, and realized he had a few hours to go before Mom and Dad got home.

As he licked his fingers, he casually nibbled at them, smiling a little. Two hours, two arms...

---

Andy was snoozing softly on the floor in front of the couch, lying on what was left of his tummy. He heard the door open, and jerked awake, flailing as best he could in shock.

He managed to be facing the door when his parents walked in to find their son's torso and head lying on the floor smiling up at them.

Mrs. Reynard pulled up short and froze. She put her hands on her hips, blew out a breath of frustration, and said, "Seriously, Andrew?"

Andy blushed. "I just taste so good!"

His father stepped around his wife and groaned. "Why can't you just throw wild sleepovers like your friends?"

Andy shrugged what was left of his shoulders, grinning sheepishly. "Cause they'd eat me too?"

With a matching pair of groans, his parents carried their son up to bed to heal, scolding him all the way.