FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

Delicious

The fennec had lulled himself into a pleasant daze, immersing himself in the thickest part of his god's chestfur, and so the outside world had faded to a faint murmur around him. He vaguely knew that a Royal Court meeting was in full session, and when he had last glanced out from within it had seemed to be in full swing, but it wasn't really very interesting.

He much preferred this. Burrowing through the endless thick masses of silky feathers, against the vast, powerful chest of his master, held up by absent-mindedly by a large avian claw as he cuddled the living wall of fluff in front of him. Press a fluffy, fennec-sized ear to the flesh behind it and he could hear the thump of the Emperor's pulse, and with the warmth, softness, intoxicating muskiness and general perfection of it all the rest of reality faded, simply by comparison.

However, it seemed that the rest of reality was moving on, anyway. The outside murmur slowly died away. He risked a glance through his master's feathers and saw the room emptying, the last few subordinates drifting through the vast doors of the Emperor's throne room, before they shut with an echoing crash, the sound finally waking him from his blissed reverie. The small fennec blinked blearily, gripping some of the feathers to let himself stay wrapped in the warmth as, without speaking, the ruler of the Serapian Empire and most powerful creature on the planet stood and stretched lazily, padding forwards. His vulpine pendant swung with each step, his small frame anchored quite easily in the thick, silk-soft feathers.

The fennec's name was Lycani Narazae Volpasin, and he was the most favoured slave of a continent-spanning civilization based on an entirely unique political system, which the political scholars had started calling as a deiocracy - namely, where the power was held by one being and one being alone... and that one being was in fact a god.

The god had chosen to call himself Goldeneye, and he was the multi-tonne gryphon who Lyca was currently cuddled into.

Goldeneye didn't speak or even acknowledge his plaything as he padded across the vast Court Hall, tail twitching behind him. He stopped in the centre of the room, raising a claw again to take the weight of his slave.

"Lyca? Lunch time, I think."

Lyca's ears perked immediately. "Master?" he squeaked excitedly, pulling himself up to hug at the tree-trunk of a throat above. "Master, can I stay with you during it? Please?" He loved every part of the gryphon eating. The bulges, the rippling power of the swallows, the soft squirms of his master's stomach for hours on end as the gurgling furnace broke down its prey, and most of all the simple mental truth of it: everyone was food for the Emperor. It was only right they fulfil their place in his gut.

The gryphon plucked him out, cupping him in the claw like an apple, and smiled down. Goldeneye's namesake glittered down, it's counterpart, a dark blazing purple, narrowed slightly in amusement. The fox felt his tail wagging blindly at the attention.

Goldeneye grinned, massive beak parting to let an ocean of hot, musky, humid breath wash over Lyca's body, the heady scent sapping his strength. "Of course you may. In fact," he waggled a feathery eyebrow playfully, "you'll have a view of it like never before."

The vulpine smiled, but confusedly. That sounded good. "I will? Thank you, master! Thank you so much..." he felt one of the talons curl slightly around his slim chest, and leaned down to kiss it. "Where will I be?"

The vast gryphon smirked. "Inside."

Before another word could be spoken, Lyca was pulled up, and the warm breath flowed around him as his master's massive beak parted and engulfed his head, shoulders and chest in one smooth movement. The flesh inside was dripping wet, luxuriously soft, and hot as an oven.

"W-what?" Lyca gasped, and got a mouthful of saliva for his trouble. He coughed it out, yelping as the heat enveloped him. Beneath, Goldeneye's great tongue ground itself lasciviously across his torso and face, tasting him. Tasting him like the meat he was.

"No! Master!" he yelled in terror, the realisation smacking straight in. "Please!" The hot flesh squeezed and rippled around him, saliva drenching the fluff there was as his chest was slowly effortlessly slurped up into the gryphon's beak. That tongue was assaulting his belly now, slurping over most of his body in its desire to wring out his tastes. "I d-don't-"

Dear, dear fox of mine... A blast of musky breath hit Lyca full on, making him cough weakly into the fleshy abyss before him. Goldeneye smiled around him, cupping his prey's groin in the pointed edge of his tongue to hold the fox up. This again? Every time... but it's just too adorable. You're mine, you wretched little thing. And I'm just taking what's mine and changing it into what suits me best. And right now I think my body could use another layer of fat around the belly, don't you? Certainly more than it could use a foxy slave.

"Ev-every time?" Lyca whimpered with pleasure and terror both at the hot touch of slick flesh, his squirms doubling in desperate intensity. He was sliding further inward, slurped wetly up into the hot confines of the gryphon's beak with no effort on Goldeneye's part. "What do you mean? M-master, please don't! I'll... I'll do anything for you!"

You already would do anything for me, the god-gryphon pointed out, tipping his head back to let his prey slide down instead of up now. Lyca desperately tried to pull back, kicking and wriggling with all his might, but the pull of gravity was inevitable. Slowly, the pink flesh squeezed him towards the dusky, glistening hole at the back of the gryphon's beak. But all I want from you now is your life.

Slowly, tauntingly, the tongue lashing over him until he thought he might drown in saliva, the gryphon let him slide forwards, his muzzle tickling the edge of his yawning gullet. No-one would disturb them here, and even if they did, the gryphon did what he wished and devoured those who he desired every day of his rule. No-one would be coming, and besides, no-one should be. Lyca was his master's. He should know that.

He whimpered, trying to hold off the final slip into that terrible abyss. In the dim light of Goldeneye's maw, it pulsed, twitching as if hungry The gryphon's breath poured out, hot, humid air washing over him and coating him with the musky scent and the hint of digested meat. The fox whimpered desperately, kicking his legs in a useless attempt to pull back. His arms were tiring, and still, Goldeneye squeezed his fleshy maw around him, the hot, wet flesh rippling over his body as the god-creature suckled on his treat. Not long now...

"Th-there's nothing I c-can do, is there?" Lyca whispered, feeling the saliva coating his fingers. "P-please..." But it was true. There was, literally, nothing he could do.

Nothing at all. Except squirm and scream, and fuel my pleasure. But little one... Goldeneye slurped his chest down, and suddenly the fennec's paws were losing their grip_. ...that_ is all you exist for.

Lyca's paws fell first, and his face joined them in the deadly embrace of the Emperor's throat.

The muscles massaged around him, already trying to suckle him further in. Hot and wet and brutally soft, stronger than his whole body. He whimpered as a noisy slurp announced his shoulders joining them, his body stretching the tight fleshy walls in a manner which would have been agonising to any save Goldeneye's ilk. To the gryphon, of course, it was delicious, as evidenced by the rumbled purr now humming through his squeezing confines.

A swallow pulled in his belly as well, dragging his hips and sheath sensuously over the hot softness of the gryphon's tongue, and Lyca groaned feebly, the sound bubbling through the saliva coursing past him. Now, his paws were pulled in as well. For a moment, he only felt warmth in the air, and then the gryphon clamped his beak shut, and they were trapped in wet, dark confines. He was utterly sealed inside. A small body like his would barely bulge the gryphon's throat from outside.

The fennec felt the tongue lashing again, slurping over his paws now. The sensation tickled unbearably, and he tried to pull away, but the tongue wrapped around his entire lower legs, letting the sensitive pads be tasted to its heart's content. He kept squirming, whimpering and panting as the hot massage sapped his energy and his body slipped, inch by inch, further down. Begging all the way. "P-please! Please, master, no..."

Correct. No. Goldeneye swallowed slightly, pulling all but those poor assaulted paws into his gullet. Almost all of Lyca's body was sheathed in the thick, endlessly rippling flesh now. His fur was utterly drenched, his internal temperature rising from the heat. He could barely breathe. The fennec managed to whimper again, kicking as best he could.

"Master..." he mumbled, the fleshy walls clamping down on his muzzle. "P-please... at least... I-I don't want to hurt... too much... c-can I have that, at least?"

Goldeneye paused, licking over his paws. The fennec knew what was coming. He started to cry, deep in the throat of his deity, hot and wet and delicious.

Two days. No. Two weeks. The gryphon smirked, his throat gurgling noisily with greedy amusement. Two weeks of digestion before I'll let you die. How about that, my darling?

Lyca uttered a little moan of terror and half-delight. Imagine, two weeks of pure submission, so close to cuddle with his master's innards. Two weeks of agony beyond imagining. He wanted it. he dreaded it. He pleaded for it, he pleaded for it not to happen.

It was happening.

With a last lick over his paws, the gryphon swallowed him whole. The throat rippled, slurped noisily, and squeezed its prey straight into itself.

Lyca whimpered weakly, trying to squirm as best he could, but the dripping flesh absorbed it all. Slowly, he oozed downwards, deeper into the cavernous gurgling mass of his master's insides. Everywhere was boiling hot, covered in slick wetness, fleshy and rippling and massaging and greedy. Far, far away, gurgles of the gryphon's body heralded him. It might have taken half an hour for the gryphon to finally let him slide into the stomach. Lyca couldn't tell: he didn't know time any more. His terror, his desire, his confusion... and the sensations flooding over him, wet and hot and rippling. It was like before: reality paled in comparison to what he was going through... or rather, what he was being slowly and sensuously and inevitably squeezed through.

No matter what, he felt it when the stomach finally started to accept him. A loud sloshing gurgle broke Lyca's weak squirming reverie, and he started just long enough to appreciate his final slow slide into the pit of his master's gut. The stomach slurped him into itself greedily, stretching just slightly around his body. It was almost brim full with juices, the temperature almost hot enough to scald. The air was so acrid Lyca almost felt it sizzle on his tongue... but then, as he slipped helplessly into the pool of gurgling acids, deep inside the guts of a feathery monster, he felt the sizzling begin. The acids were already ready for enough flesh to distend Goldeneye's belly to the size of himself, if necessary. A ninety-pound fox? Easy.

He started to wail, pushing himself up as his legs were aching squeezed out into the small, churning chamber. His skin was prickling already, and exposed flesh - pawpads, tongues, eyes - was now beginning to burn. The pain was just beginning.

"M-master! Master, plea-argh... n-no!"

The gryphon rarely answered prey once they entered his belly. It was symbolic, almost: anything in there was already part of him. No-one had ever left the soft, fluffy bulge of Goldeneye's mighty innards except as a liquid. So Lyca wasn't surprised to have no answer.

That didn't mean it didn't hurt, though. He kept weeping, coughing for air as the churning walls pummelled him into an upright position, and the acids started to set in. Kick off, and he could just about surface for a gasp of air.

Now it was starting to hurt for real. Everywhere was raw, sore and tender. Lyca gasped, groaning weakly. He tried to pull away, but off course the poll of acids had nowhere to pull away from. he was trapped here.

He screamed for the first time, a little, weak, whimpering squeal which cut off immediately as the fennec fell into the mass of sloshing juices again. He coughed on the burning fluid, whimpering as pain began to peak, some part of him hoping to drown before the real pain began.

How many times, little fox? Goldeneye broke in at last. You don't need breath while you're in here. Just life, and that'll be taken from you nice and slowly.

"W-what?" Lyca coughed again, breathing in acid. His throat burned, but his lungs didn't need breath. He choked out again, trying not to speak, and kicked feebly at the stomach walls around him, sinking further. "H-how..."

Me, of course. Now. More suffering. Goodbye, little morsel. Squirm for me, will you?

And with that, and a casual pat of his sloshing gut, the gryphon was gone. Lyca felt him moving now, ignoring his prey entirely. Food. Already food....

He started to scream.

By the end of the first day, his throat had almost given out. Hours. So long in the furnace of hell, his fur gone, his skin raw and chafed. The pain raged on. Lyca's master crushed him beneath his immense bulk as he laid down, sleeping on his belly. The weight forced the fox between both sides of the gurgling stomach, letting the flesh massage him with all the desire it possessed. And yet he was still there, to scream, through the second day.

"P-please..."

Goldeneye never spoke a word after that, and no-one else could hear him through the muscle, fur and fat of the gryphon's stomach. Lyca simply wriggled inside, kicking as his skin began melting away. Every hour was a year, and yet he suffered through it. Another day was gone, separated this time by a fourteen hour-session in which the gryphon simply lay, massaging his belly with one claw. And still he suffered.

By the fifth day, he didn't think any of his skin remained.

By the eleventh, his bones were going.

And yet he lived, and he screamed. The fox could no longer breathe. But still, he howled mentally. Words were losing themselves.

Time passed. How many days? Three? Thirty? Three thousand? Perhaps his master had extended it, made him suffer longer. Perhaps he was dead, and Goldeneye had just taken his soul into himself and kept him here forever...

He twitched now, barely able to move. A collection of flesh, with a brain somehow still functioning enough to feel itself being digested. The heat was everything, the fleshy churning life. the pain was the universe.

Goldeneye. Master. Master was the universe.

It hurts...

I love you, m-master...

He nuzzled blindly to a wall of flesh, and finally, felt his consciousness start to grow dark.

***

Goldeneye belched slightly, licking his beak with a smirk. His belly looked empty now, but there was still a few pounds of his prey undigested in there. Not for long, though. Compared to his normal rate of meals, the fox had been a morsel to last the seventeen-day ordeal. It had been worth it, though. Lyca was just so delicious...

He hummed to himself, caressing his belly with a claw, and considered where to send the extra weight the fox would add on once actually absorbed. Lyca could just be burned off into energy, or perhaps conditioning his feathers... no.

The god-gryphon licked his beak again, and stroked the soft, fluffed surface of his stomach once more. By tomorrow, it would be just a little bit softer, and a little bit heavier. Who said Lyca could escape from his torture room by simple bodily failure, after all.

And by that time, he'd have someone new to cuddle the stomach as it worked over its new addition. Eventually, they'd add to it too. Everyone would, in the end, in some form or another. It was Goldeneye's desire.

Goldeneye 04/10/2013