FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

Quillan was sneakier than you'd expect a pig to be. Nobody had noticed him drop those sleeping tablets into the Srothar's drink, and secretly following the half-asleep Biscuit home took no effort at all.

He wasn't known as Quillan the Quizzifying for nothing, after all. A traveling magician was what he was, and not one of those fakers, either. Unlike many magicians who used merely tricks of deception alone to achieve their 'magic', Quillan had invested time and money into proper tutoring from an actual wizard, expensive as it was, and had incorporated what he'd learned so far into his reasonably-popular shows. He hadn't actually -quite- earned his magic license for such, but that was soon enough to come, so there was really no harm.

The pig had not expected to run into a Srothar that evening. Heck, he didn't even intend to get a drink at such a seedy-looking tavern. But perhaps it was all fated serendipity? Regardless, he knew that Biscuit would be a valuable asset to his show, and the Srothar would certainly making a good deal of extra profit as well...he could use it, judging from the tiny apartment the feline apparently lived in. Quillan had no intention of -forcing- the creature - he was no brute! - but he at least wanted a chance to convince him. After such a spectacle at the bar, though...it was clear to the pig that his methods of persuasion might have to be...a tad more unusual than mere conversation.

But he was not just out for the money. The Srothar seemed to know nor care nothing of being a Srothar, and that was a crying shame to the ungulate; he truly found the species to be awe-inspiring. This 'Biscuit' didn't know what he was missing...but, the pig reasoned, he could help him find out at the same time of perhaps...persuading?...him.

That was the logic that had led him to stepping his hooves through the Srothar's front door. The fluffy cat had been too exhausted to lock it; convenient, that. The one-room apartment didn't take long for the pig's eyes to scan over, and the small but serviceable bed that the Srothar was sprawled messily out and snoring upon was easy to find.

"Goodness, he's not an elegant sleeper...ah well, ah well." muttered the magician, fishing around in a pocket in his robe and pulling out a silver ring emblazoned with a yellow gem, shaped like a crescent moon. "Ah, that...yes, a moon-based reversion would work fine. So then..." Next, he fished in another pocket, pulling out a small book of magical phrases and scanning through. "A ring-type affixing spell...hrm...an identity illusion spell...and...a third-party memory degradation spell... Yes, those three should set everything up nice and safely..."

With a quick refresh of his studies, the pig held the ring carefully in his hand and focused his attention to it, before muttering string after string of mystical phrases. After each was concluded, the ring briefly resonated a yellow glow, with the glow growing stronger each time.

"Good, just enough space for the big one...then..." he studied his book again. "A sound trigger...yes, that seems preferable. And the keyword...hmm..." The pig thought for a moment, gazing at the sleeping Srothar and thinking of how the feline had responded so defensively toward him. Though Quillan could sympathize with the mistreatment Biscuit received from others...the Srothar could clearly still learn to lighten up a little. "Ah, yes, perhaps..." the ungulate nodded to himself, a word coming to his decision.

Another string of strange phrases uttered out from the pig's snout as he held the ring aloft once more, with a final, clear word at the end. "...'kitty'." the magician said clearly...and with that, the ring glowed, locking in the final incantation. "Good...good good. Now just need to put it on...his ear, yes, that would work." Quillan stepped gingerly over to the sleeping cat's side, kneeling down next to those big Srothar ears...which flitted about as he touched them curiously. Placing the ring against the left ear, he uttered a final, 'sealing' word...and the ring, upon glowing yet again, simply seemed to 'melt' into the edge of the ear, only calming again when it was affixed like an ordinary ear piercing.

Quillan's curly porcine tail gave a waggle of satisfaction as he saw his setup did work correctly, the magician giving a pat to the Srothar's fluffy head before standing back up again. "Sleep well, Biscuit. I think we'll see each other again, when the time is right‾" With a small chuckle, the pig retreated from the dark apartment, making sure to lock the door on his way out... After all, you could let somebody dangerous in, leaving your door unlocked.

‾ - ‾

Biscuit eventually roused from his rest...though, very slowly. Blinking, he let out a massive yawn, his eyes moving to a nearby window to gaze up at a clear full moon. Strange...did he only sleep for a few hours and wake up early? He certainly didn't feel under-rested though...if anything, he felt OVER-rested. It took the Srothar a moment before he realized the moon he'd seen heading home from the tavern was not quite full...

He crawled to the side of the bed where his computer was nearest, uneloquently batting at his mouse like a cat to kill his screensaver. A quick check of his computer's calender and...shit, it was -Sunday- evening now, 9 PM? He'd slept through pretty much all of the day...he didn't have that many beers, did he? No...he wasn't the sort to over-imbibe, and he didn't feel a hangover anyways. Well...at least he didn't have to work that day.

The Srothar got out of bed in an almost-unwilling fashion, trudging past the divide in walls that somewhat counted as a second room in his small apartment; the bathroom. It had the bare-minimum requirements of privacy, but it didn't much matter to a person who lived alone anyways. Turning on the sink, he let the water warm up before splashing his face and head with it to wake up.

It was then in the bathroom mirror that Biscuit noticed the silver ring, fit with a gem in the shape of a yellow crescent moon, hanging from on his left ear. What the heck? Even if he -had- gotten drunk and slept through a whole day, he -definitely- didn't get drunk enough to make one of those in-the-moment, bad-decision piercings that some people do. Did somebody play a prank on him...and who? When? The feline pulled lightly on ring, checking to see if it was a clip-on...and nope, it was indeed an actual piercing, and it didn't appear to be easily-removable. As if he hadn't had enough trouble lately...

With a bit of a growl, the Srothar dug into the drawers under the sink, before procuring a small but high-quality tool set he had kept around for 'just-in-case' home repairs. He pulled out a good set of pliers from inside, and eyed the ring again. It had a fairly large loop, and the metal looked thin enough...this could certainly be clipped. Carefully did Biscuit slip the pliers through the loop, getting a good grip before squeezing down -hard- on the handles...

...And nothing. After exerting a good deal of effort the feline let go, removing the pliers and inspecting the ring for damage. There was none...not even the slightest dent. Though the pliers' ends seemed a little misshapen now...

Irritated, Biscuit pondered about what to do, delicately fishing a pair of scissors from the tool set with a wince. He wasn't sure how much it would cost to get the ring removed, or where even to go about that...but on the other hand, the ring was fairly close to the edge of his ear. A quick snip of the edge and he could pull the damn thing off...and he knew his ear could heal up without nary a scar if he was careful. Of course, it would hurt a little...

With a deep breath he decided, and brought the scissors up to his ear, aligning them as carefully as he could before...

Snip?

The sharp scissors met his ear...then only rested harmlessly atop them. The Srother tried again...and again. He wasn't snipping anything...he wasn't even hurting himself. It was as if his ear was indestructible...

That ring wasn't normal, and Biscuit knew it. Argh...he wasn't one to ever wear jewelry, but he would just have to get used to this, at least until he had time to see somebody about the damn thing. It was good, at least, that his workplace had no issues with secure piercings on their employees..and it was certainly secure...

The Srothar slipped out of his work shirt and hopped in the shower, letting himself unwind and relax as the hot water drenched over his fluffy fur and scaly gut. As he applied a good deal of lavender conditioner to his fur and pads - one of his favorite scents - he thought more reasonably about it. A ring wasn't that big a deal; it certainly paled in comparison to all the crap he'd put up with the previous day, at least.

He left the shower feeling a bit more positive, toweling the majority of water off his fur before using a hair dryer to do the rest of the work. In the privacy of his own home, Biscuit didn't mind letting out a deep purr whenever he did this; he loved how his fur would fluff up between his conditioner and the drying process, making him feel rather silky-clean. His favorite brush, which rested on the edge of the sink, completed the pampering treatment...his fluffy 'hair' - actually an extension of his mane - always behaved and combed nice and cleanly after a shower. Though he'd been doing it every day for a year now, Biscuit never tired of how a good shower made him feel; back in his village, cold lake baths were typically the norm for his community, and only every once and a while. It was true that Srothars did not -need- to groom daily, but...heck, he couldn't live without it nowadays.

Freshened up, the Srothar put on a clean, slightly larger and more casual shirt. He had work around noon the next day, but he knew his lengthy sleep would prevent him from getting any more until after work... He figured he may as well get out and work off his large meal from the other day with a nice walk.

He stepped out his front door - along the way noting with relief that he had remembered to lock his door the night before - and breathed in the crisp, if cold, night air. New Redhurst's air was quite clean for such a metropolis, an indication of the smart planning the city had received. Biscuit noted that the streets seemed rather empty tonight, even for the late hour...but that was fine, a quiet walk suited him best anyways.

Biscuit knew the safest blocks to walk in the city by now; walking through the night was something he liked to do now and then, but he always wanted to be smart about it. As such, his casual exercise was happily uneventful for the most part; the most 'exciting' thing was the slow overcasting of the moon by a heavy group of butts...but when the Srothar was sure they weren't rain-butts come to drench him, then they too became uneventful.

But then...on his way back to his apartment, the Srothar noticed a little black cat prowling about outside an apartment block, its collar tag jingling as it padded around. That detail in itself was not eventful; non-sentient felines were common enough to see owned, and for all the comparisons to a pet cat that jerks made of him, Biscuit never held any ill will towards his distant relatives.

The bigger feline knelt down as the smaller cat approached him, the pet sniffing at him warily before letting out a curous 'mewl?' The Srothar chuckled and offered a hand to the little fellow, which the black cat rubbed up against with a purr, encouraging Biscuit into giving a series of pets to the friendly little feline.

Focused enough on the pet cat was Biscuit that he failed to notice the entry door of the nearby apartment block open, and a little beagle girl lean out. "Felix! Feeeeelix!" the girl shouted out, perking up the ears of the black cat. "Heeeeere kitty kitty!"

Felix the cat slinked away from the Srothar, letting out another 'mewl!', this time towards his obvious owner as he hurried his way through the open door, the little girl closing it with a giggle and quite happy to have her pet back inside.

Not that Biscuit noticed any of this.

His ears had also picked up the girl's shouts, but upon the words...'kitty kitty'...he had felt his mind go dumbstruck. The ring on his ear let out a hearty glow, and...he blacked out immediately. In a way, at least.

His body quickly shifted as the ring resonated, his build changing, his joints re-balancing, his mind...becoming another. The transformation...it was not to another species, but to a new shape. A feral shape...and a feral mind.

...The cat blinked, getting back to all four of his feet as his changes completed, the ring's glow ceasing as it had completed its duty for now. The Srothar found nothing amiss to this, merely annoyed that he had crumpled to the sidewalk briefly...he turned and licked at his side for a moment to clean away a bit of dirt from the fall. He wriggled, getting more comfortable in the shirt he still wore, though quite misshapenly. Now, what would he do tonight? This was such a big city, there were so many places a kitty like him could prowl...but what places would have the most food?

Sniffing the air, he turned his eyes to a nearby corner diner. Ah, that smelled like lots of food! The feral Srothar snuck over to the entry door, nudging it open with his head. There were no customers at the late hour...perfect, more food for him to eat. "Mao maooooo‾" he chimed out towards the kitchen, quickly procuring the single employee there that night.

"Huh. Hey there, fella. You're awful big for a cat...you some sorta breed I never heard of?" the diner employee, a college-age-looking mouse, leaned on his mop. "Guess you're not a stray, what with that shirt you're wearing...got one of those owners that dress their pets up, huh? Well, pets aren't supposed to be in here, but...I guess it doesn't matter too much. We're closed anyways now...owners already went home and I'm stuck cleaning and closing up things... I wouldn't mind the company of a kitty-cat."

"Mrowwww?" questioned the Srothar, sitting on his haunches with his forepaws hanging cutely in front of him. He didn't really care if the mousey wanted to blab...but food first, blabbing second.

"Oh, I bet you're hungry huh? Well...actually, there's always old leftovers of some staple items we serve here, since we cook up things in advance to cut waiting time... Okay fella, one sec." the rodent retreated to the kitchen for a few minutes, before bringing out a plate of a few random foods...burgers, fries, fried chicken. "You cats are usually finicky, right? I don't know what you like, but one of these probably works for you..."

The moment that the mouse had set the plate on the tiled floor, Biscuit was all over it. The worker went wide-eyed as the feline proved not to be finicky at all...in fact, in not more than 10 seconds, the entire selection of foods were gulped down the cat's gullet in a couple thick lumps, leaving the Srothar licking the plate clean before looking back up at his feeder. "Mrowwww?" he begged again, nowhere near satisfied.

"Th-that fried chicken had bones you know... Though I guess that won't bother your gut too much..." the mouse noted in awe, easily hearing the big cat's belly already gurgling fiercely away at the plate of food. "Uh...I guess I can get you more..."

And more food did the rodent-boy get, coming back with two more plates of the leftover meals...then four more...then six more... From peas, to mashed potatoes, to tacos, to pizza, to ribs...there was nothing the big kitty wouldn't consume, and consume as if it was his favoriteist thing in the world! Every lick of the meals got stuffed away into the Srothar's scaly gut, with such an increasing speed that it almost seemed the cat was getting -hungrier- as he ate...

"O-oh gosh." the mouse, out of breath, looked at the clock, realizing he'd doted on the cat for more than a half hour. "Okay, that's enough, fella... That was the last of the leftovers anyways. The bosses would kill me if I cooked up new food just for somebody's pet...heck, they might already kill me for closing up this late."

"Mrowwww?" went Biscuit, sitting once more on his haunches...this time quite easily able to rest his forepaws atop his plumped-out belly.

"How are you even still hun- No, I said that's -it-, fella. You gotta go, okay?" the mouse stepped around the counter, standing behind the big, fattened cat, and gave the feral a hearty shove towards the door. ...Which...moved the heavy cat not an inch. The rodent gulped as he realized how big the creature actually was, standing so close to him...and it didn't help that, thanks to his species, the mouse was not much over 4 feet tall himself. Still, he continued to shove, hoping the kitty would get the hint and leave...

"Mrrrr...hisssss." Biscuit did indeed get the hint, at least with what mattered most: the mouse didn't want to feed him anymore. He flattened his ears to his head as his butt was pushed against, before slowly standing to all fours.

"G-Good, you get it. Sorry, you've just had way more than enough anyways at this poi-OOF!" the mouse began, before the Srothar swiftly turned and gave the inside of his knees a -strong- headbutt, sending the rodent onto his hands and knees. "Hey, what gi...u-uhhh..."

The Srothar's logic for such matters as this...was simple. If somebody didn't feed him enough food, then they -were- food. The fluffy feline's jaws hung open wide in front of the mouse's face, the slick, black-fleshed interior all the more adding to the abyss-like appearance of his gaping throat-tunnel... The feline's rather-long tongue snuck out to lick and taste across the mouse's wide-eyed face, enjoying the frozen and flabbergasted look in his prey's eyes...cats did just -love- to tease, you know.

The mouse finally began to react, however;a subtle twitch betraying the intention to move and get away. The feral Srothar caught the movement cue easily, and reacted much faster than the diner employee could. A simple lunge forward and the rodent's head was lost in Biscuit's mouth, his jaws sealing just firmly enough to keep his dinner from pulling back out. The rodent shouted out and flailed his fists at the cat, but his cries were lost to the absorbing acoustics of the feline's inner-flesh, and his fists did little against the fluffy and padded hide of the durable cat.

Realizing fully how weak the diner worker was, the Srothar took his time to pin his meal against the diner's main counter wall, using it as leverage as the cat simply walked forward and swallowed greedily. The mouse's shoulders and chest slipped past his jaws with nary an effort, and he lapped happily against the boy's work-clothes, sampling the myriad flavors of meals the mouse had cooked that day and occasionally dripped or spilled onto the attire.

The rodent's struggles weakened as his arms were locked to his sides, then consumed over altogether, his voice growing only more and more faint in turn as his head slipped into the depths of that Srothar throat, then into the core of the feline's impressive gut... The kitty let out a muffled but rumbling purr around his big meal as he swallowed over the mouse's waist, plopping heavily down on his soft haunches with an excited wriggle of his fluffy tail. The employee tasted absolutely divine...the drool dripping down his chops attested to that...but it was time to fully stomach his meal once and for all.

Biscuit swung his head up in one powerful motion, balancing the rodent-boy's lower half ever so carefully in the air above...so carefully, in fact, that not even the mouse's flailing legs could throw him off. From there, the Srothar simply...relaxed. His jaws slackened open, his digestive muscles loosened, and gravity predictably took hold. The diner-worker never for a second realized that he was kicking his way -down- the cat's gullet, leaving the feline's forepaws free to simply rub at his stretched, wriggling throat.

Not until the boy's shoeless feet hung outside his lips did Biscuit need to act again...and that act was simple enough to perform. His long tongue curled around the soles in a final flavor-grabbing, before snaring them up and shoving them into his jaws...which he could now finally close again, sealing his dinner to its fate. 'Glurrrk‾' The final swallow wasn't much to write home about, but it was a peaceful ending to a good meal for the Srothar, as the final bulges ushered down his throat and collected into his distended gut.

The feline's shirt, while having weathered the engorging belly's stretch for the longest time, could handle no more; with a loud set of pops, each and every button on the shirt clattered to the hard flooring! His yellow gut finally hung sloshily out, blorping happily as it was freed from the clothy confines.

"Mrowwwurrrrp!" the chubby kitty remarked and belched out, his heartfelt regards to the good meal the diner had served him that evening. He put a forepaw to his fully-exposed belly, feeling the wrigglies inside slowly settle down as his belly churned and glorped eagerly away. A live meal was ever so satisfying for the feral...and yet, that one almost felt like the first one he'd ever had... Of course, that was a silly thought...a good and hungry kitty like him loved a squirming snack anytime‾

The stuffed feline soon returned to all fours and sauntered lazily out of the diner's entrance, his thankfully-durable scaled belly forced to drag against the ground due to its size. Biscuit didn't mind this too much - truthfully, the constant reminder of just how big his stomach was made him just want to purr and purr! - but he knew it would take quite a bit of effort to move around very much at this point... Maybe it was time for a cat-nap. And didn't he have a nice place to nap around here somewhere?...

The chubby cat soon found his way to a familiar block of flats...and his attention soon focused to a -very- familiar open window on the bottom-floor. It took him a few attempts to manage and fail a graceful hop up to the windowsill, before ultimately nixing grace entirely and just clawing and dragging himself over the sill. The sill did not like this much, a corner of the wood breaking off under the immense weight of the fatty kitty...barely to Biscuit's notice, as he was just happy to manage his way inside.

He found himself in a cozy studio apartment, one that felt very...safe, secure. Yes, this was his place to cat-nap, he remembered now‾ He prowled the room for a moment before clambering up onto the bed present at one end, flopping his fluffy head on one of its pillows and sprawling heavily out on his back. "Purrrrrrr‾" remarked the feral, contented Srothar. The cat soon dozed peacefully off, rousing only for a moment to turn away from the nearby window; the butt-cover over the moon had finally broken again, and the brighter moonlight bugged the kitty's eyes a bit.

Thus, Biscuit wasn't conscious as the moonlight glinted off the his ear-ring, another glow pulsing out from the jewelry...