FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

"Got a minute, Jonathan?"

Blowing out a breath, and trying to force down the butterflies in his gut, the young squirrel swiveled in his chair and forced a smile. "Yeah, boss?"

"Management called down, wanting to talk about the latest art. Thought you might want to come along."

Jonathan groaned inwardly. He'd wondered why a lowly intern had been given the prestigious account. Well, now he knew. Someone to offer up on a platter if the account went wrong. He stood and nodded. "Absolutely, Mr. Hoan."

As the fox turned to lead the way, Jonathan surreptitiously grabbed the working folder off his desk. Not that he was going to even try and explain without his notes at hand.

The trip up was shorter than Jonathan would have liked, and he was trying desperately not to let his fear get the best of him. The pay is good, it'll look great on my resume, he chanted in his head. Still, when Mr. Hoan led him into the senior accounts manager's office, he was hard pressed resisting the urge to shout his resignation over his shoulder on his way down the stairs.

"Here to see Bob," Mr. Hoan called breezily to a nervous looking mouseboy sitting at the reception desk. The mouse nodded, and once Hoan had passed, gave Jonathan an encouraging smile and thumbs up. The door opened and the squirrel gulped.

They walked in to find Bob Hueller in the middle of a phone call, and the squirrel relaxed slightly. There wasn't a trace of anger in the senior manager's massive frame. Hueller was famous throughout the company for having a temper to match his size, and for never bothering to hide it. If he was calm...

"Bob," Mr. Hoan said warmly, shaking Mr. Hueller's paw as he hung up the phone. "What's this about the Joss-Frieburg art?"

Hueller rubbed a spot between his eyes and let out a little growl. "Well, the good news is, we haven't lost the account."

The fur on Jonathan's neck rose.

"What the hell, Kyle?" Hueller asked, sounding frustrated. "You told me you had your best artist on this! You said you had the client's specs nailed down cold! Why are they calling me?"

Mr. Hoan smiled. "Ask the artist working the account. Bob, this is Jonathan."

Jonathan swallowed and managed a smile. "Hi, Mr. Hueller. What, uh, problems is the client having?"

The big wolf glowered at him. "Everything. They hate the art, said it wasn't the direction they were going for."

The squirrel licked his lips and opened his working folder. He laid out every official piece of paperwork from the project out on Hueller's desk, everything from requirements to sketches to finished pieces. Twenty minutes later, he stood back. "So you see, Mr. Hueller, I've met every one of the client's specs. If there's a problem with the account, it isn't on our end. I can only imagine someone over at Joss changed their mind mid-"

Hueller held up on hefty paw and Jonathan fell silent, shaking. The big wolf sifted through the stack of papers Jonathan had laid on his desk, and picked up a single sheet. He read it twice, then swiveled to look at Hoan, eyes flat.

"Kyle, I have two questions. First, no matter how talented he is, what possessed you to give our biggest account to an intern?"

The fox licked his lips. "W-well-"

The huge wolf stood up, and held out the paper in his paw. "And second, what is this? These specs are utter shit. Fucking Picasso couldn't work with these!"

Kyle looked a little green. "Those are the specs I got from-"

"Stop." Bob growled. "Let me guess: you got behind, you went with whatever vague crap they sent you to start with, and you stuck it to the intern so you could blame someone for the FUBAR. One problem, Kyle."

He waved at the pile of memos and sketches on his desk. "Your signature is all over these. You approved this farce."

Quick as thought the wolf was across the desk. He picked up the babbling fox by the biceps, and pulled him in until they were nose-to-nose. "Kyle. You're fired."

"No, wai-mph!"

Jonathan fought to stay still as Bob engulfed the unlucky fox's head. Growling and snarling, the big wolf swallowed, sucking the struggling fox down to his chest. He reached back and grabbed the fox's tail, using it as leverage to lift him over his head, and started power chugging.

Gulp, and Kyle was up to his waist in the wolf's mouth. Gulp, and now his thighs were pressed together, leaving only his lower legs and half his tail free. Bob reached up and casually pulled off Kyle's shoes before, gulp, down went the rest of the fox.

Bob swallowed twice more to get him all the way down, then leaned back against his desk, paw resting on his slightly protruding gut. He licked his lips, and turned to look at Jonathan. The young squirrel flinched.

"I notice you, burp, oh, excuse me" The wolf pounded his chest and belched twice more, before walking back around his desk to sit down. "Ahem. I notice your folder has a few more pieces in it."

Jonathan nodded and forced himself to step forward. He opened the folder and set it on Bob's desk before quickly stepping back. The wolf chuckled and reached for it. "Jonathan, was it?"

The squirrel nodded jerkily.

"Relax. This wasn't the first time Kyle tried that shit on me. You just happened to be smart enough to keep a paper trail and bring it with you. Have a seat," he said, waving distractedly in the direction of a chair by the window.

Jonathan sat down, shaking slightly as he watched Bob flip through his folder slowly. After ten minutes the wolf nodded briskly. "Well it seems like you actually had a better idea of the client's requirements than Kyle did. Unfortunately, with this fiasco, I'm going to have to assign a different team to this account."

Nodding, Jonathan reached for his folder, eager to get back to his desk. The wolf's paw closed around his wrist and he squeaked. "I'm not finished. I'd like you to take your folder down to Marjorie's team and walk them through the account, just like you showed me. Ok?"

Jonathan gulped, staring at the wolf's paw. It completely encircled his wrist. "Y-yes, sir."

Bob chuckled and released him. "Good." He looked up at the clock and sighed, stretching. "Go ahead and take lunch. I'll email Marj, let her know you're coming after."

Jonathan nodded again, and fled with as much dignity as he could manage. He shot into the elevator as soon as the doors opened and leaned against the back wall of the elevator, panting softly, as it slowly traveled down to his floor. The doors opened and he hurriedly straightened up. He walked back to his cubicle briskly, trying to look nonchalant.

He sat down and sighed. "Hey, Jon, what happened?"

He opened his eyes to find Ric, his badger co-worker, leaning over the wall separating their cubicles, face full of curiosity. Jonathan opened his mouth to reply, when he caught sight of the feet in Ric's hand.

"E-eating in again today?" He stammered.

Ric chuckled. "Yeah. I tell ya', if it weren't for those willing prey services, I'd be so far behind. So what happened?"

Jonathan licked his lips as Ric casually stuffed the feet he was holding into his mouth. "K-kyle got f-fired."

Ric rolled his eyes and started slurping up his lunch. He rolled his hand in a "go on" gesture.

Jonathan forced himself to relate the story as Ric slurped and swallowed whoever he was having for lunch. When Ric was halfway through eating, Jonathan discovered it was a cat, as the prey's tail lashed and twisted. By the time he'd finished his story, the cat's head had come into view. He had a look of ecstasy on his face. Jonathan squirmed uncomfortably as the cat was swallowed up to his neck.

Ric swallowed down the cat's arms. He belched, and let out a little laugh. "Not that I'm complaining, but it's always weird how into it the delivery prey are." He shook his head. "Shame about Kyle, though. Guess he just got cocky once too often."

"Y-yeah," Jonathan whispered. "Sh-shame. Umm, excuse me."

The squirrel grabbed his lunchbox and scampered out to eat in the courtyard. Resolutely ignoring the predators that occasionally came in, he ate his lunch without tasting it. On his way back to his cubicle to pick up his folder, he managed to get his shaking under control. The pay is good, it'll look great on my resume.

He grabbed his folder and headed over to Marjorie's area. He came around a corner, saw her door was open, and walked up. He groaned inwardly, but forced himself to stand there and wait.

The little wolf had her back to the door and was busily swallowing one of her own interns, a tiny gerbil boy whose name escaped Jonathan. He was up to his waist, having gone in feet first, and more than anything, he seemed annoyed. Marjorie swallowed again, and he sank down a few inches. "Oh, come on, boss!"

Marjorie growled. The gerbil boy pulled his hands free and crossed his arms over his chest. "Every day for a month, you've tried to get me down on top of whoever you had for lunch. And you always get stuck. On my hips. Every time. Are you ready to pay up yet?"

Snarling, Marjorie tried to swallow. Jonathan could see he strain on her face. Suddenly, she sighed, bent over at the waist, and gave a cough. The gerbil scrabbled at the carpet for a second and popped free, revealing his startlingly ample waist.

"Fine," she rasped, coughing. "I give up."

She walked over to her desk, and grabbed a gift card to a local art supply store. "Congratulations, Troy, you are the first intern in months to take on the second helping challenge and win."

The gerbil grinned and took the card. "No hard feelings, boss?"

Marjorie laughed and gave him a playful smack on his hip. "Nah. It's just those hipbones."

Troy was about to respond when Jonathan cleared his throat. They turned to look at him and Marjorie jumped.

"Oh, is that the time? Shit. Troy, go let everyone know there's a meeting in five."

Troy gave her a thumbs up before disappearing. She nodded amiably at Jonathan. "Conference roo-" she broke off coughing. After clearing her throat a couple times, she shook her head, eyes watering. "Damn those hips. Room five. Four minutes."

Jonathan nodded and headed that way. The meeting went smoothly since, to his surprise, Marjorie was the only pred in the room. By the end of it, he was feeling more confident than he had since he started working at the company. He hung back as the team filtered out. "Marjorie?"

The wolf looked up from her notes.

He swallowed. "Well, I couldn't help but notice..."

She laughed and stood up, stretching luxuriously. "The All-Star All-Preys throw you off?"

Shrugging, he nodded. "I actually didn't know there were that many of us working here, much less on one team."

Marjorie came around and sat on the table. "And you're wondering why a wolf would willingly lead a team of nothing but prey? Or why the prey would be willing to work with me?"

"Well, I can see why they want to work with you!" Jonathan froze. "Umm...what I meant..."

Chuckling, Marjorie shook her head. "No, I get it. I'm not all 'me big predator, work hard or else!'" Eyes twinkling, she shrugged. "Honestly, I prefer working with prey because it's not always dominance games. Sure, I do things like the Second Helping Challenge, but it's all in fun and volunteer only. And my team respects that I respect them, so they do good work."

Jonathan smiled shyly. "Could you use another intern?"

Marjorie sighed. "Well, if Troy's hips weren't so much of a pain in the throat, I might. You do good work, kid. But...I'm supposed to tell you to head down to HR. The boss wasn't too happy about losing Kyle."

Jonathan's eyes widened and he swallowed. "B-but..."

She held out a hand to forestall his comments. "Look, you might just get reassigned. But if you quit, I can't promise the security bears will bother escorting you out."

Jonathan pinched the bridge of his nose, starting to shake. "G-great. My boss t-tries to s-screw me, and I g-get eaten because I didn't get eaten. Fucking great."

The wolf winced and put her arm around his shoulder. "Look, just remember two magic words, ok?"

Jonathan wasn't too sure about being hugged by a wolf, but he had to admit the physical contact helped with the shaking. "W-what words?"

"Employee Rights."

Jonathan snorted, and Marjorie chuffed softly. "I'm serious. They're not supposed to eat you just because they're pissed. Keep your head up."

Licking his lips, Jonathan nodded slightly. The wolf smiled. "Good luck, kid."

Jonathan gathered up his folder and slowly made his way down to HR, tail drooping. Ten too-short minutes later, he arrived in the HR offices. He looked at the chameleon at the reception desk. "J-Jonathan G-Geth, here f-for e-evaluation."

The chameleon nodded. "Yes, Ms. Atreya is expecting you. Go on in, third door on your left."

He went, shaking the whole way. He knocked on the door, and a warm voice called, "Come in!"

Opening the door, he quailed a bit. Sitting behind the desk was a huge tigress. The office was bare except for her desk, a chair in front of her, and a second door behind her. She was clicking away at the keyboard in front of her, and she gave him an unnervingly wide smile. "Come in, come in, just finishing up a few notes."

He eased into the office, jumping when the door closed behind him with the unmistakable click of a lock. He sat in the chair across from her, fidgeting with his folder. The longer she typed the more resigned he became, and by the time she turned to him he was just wanted it to be over with, one way or another.

"So, Jonathan-"

"Are you going to eat me?"

Atreya blinked, and laughed. "Well, you're certainly direct. In fact, you are being downsized. Shall we get on with it, or would you care to discuss it?"

Jonathan sagged. "I haven't done anything wrong!"

She shrugged. "Not exactly. A few very influential people were against this decision, if it helps."

Jonathan glared. "Given the situation, would you believe it doesn't? Why am I...?"

"Because, while you are skilled, it was clear you knew the project was going south and took no steps to alert anyone. Problem children like Kyle are the reason HR exists. The moment you realized the account was being mishandled, you should have contacted someone to see how you could rectify it."

"So...you're going to eat me...because I didn't go around Kyle?"

Atreya cocked her head. "Jonathan...you seem to be under a misconception. The method of termination is up to you."

Hope flared in Jonathan. "What."

She shrugged. "The door behind me? It goes out onto the street, and we'll courier your belongings to you."

Jonathan stared at the door and whispered, "What's the catch?"

She sighed. "Well...being fired from this company is death on a resume. You might be able to scrape together a living as a commercial freelancer, but...honestly, I can run through the numbers with you, and you'd be better off just starting a new career from scratch in a completely different field."

He blinked and focused on her. "Even as an intern?"

She nodded "Especially as an intern. Internships are posted on the company website, so there's no way to hide an internship."

"So...I die, or my dreams do, is what you're saying."

"Basically. The question to ask is...how attached to your career choice are you?"

Jonathan stared at the door. Four years and $80,000 down the drain. In debt. No career prospects. A burger job. Two, even. More college to get anywhere. And illustration...his art...

He stood up and began stripping. "Fuck it. I can't do anything else."

The tigress sighed. "Are you sure? We do offer counseling as part of severance."

He laughed. "What's your success rate for illustrators?"

She gave him a small smile. "Not...great."

"Thought not," he shot back as he climbed onto her desk.

"Do you have a preference?" she asked, pointing from his head to his feet.

"I'd prefer to keep my career."

She cocked an eyebrow. "Feet, then. You can jack off if you wish."

Jonathan started to tell her what he thought of that, then hesitated. Why not? He shrugged and began rubbing his sheath. "Thanks, I guess. Might as well go out with a bang."

"No problem. I'm told it helps."

When she put his feet in her mouth, he squeaked, and forced himself to keep rubbing. Surprisingly, it did seem to help. Hit tip peeked out as she swallowed to his knees, and he eagerly worked it out and began stroking. He watched her slowly eat him, his thighs sliding into her mouth as she closed her eyes. He felt her tongue sliding over his fur and shivered at the realization that she was enjoying him. It was strange, but he felt a surge of gratitude. A few seconds ago, he'd just wanted it to be over, but...at least it didn't feel like "just business."

Her lips bumped his balls and he squirmed as he watched his most private parts slide into her mouth, hand still working away at his cock. He hesitated, then slipped his other hand down his waist into the corner of her mouth. Her eyes opened and he gave her a tremulous smile. As her lips claimed his stomach, he felt his balls tightening. When his chest was inside her mouth, her teeth scraping his nipples, he gasped and shot for the last time.

He watched her mouth creep up his neck and whispered, "T-thanks. F-for not making this awful."

He saw a slight twinkle in her eyes and then his head was being pulled in. He took a deep breath and squirmed as her wet mouth and slick throat pressed into his face. A second later, he popped out into her stomach, and gave a little yelp as his tail crimped from being forced into the tight space with him. The chamber rumbled around him as she belched, and his lungs burned from lack of air. As he started to pass out, he felt her pat him.

"No problem, sweetie. I always feel sorry for artists." She sighed. "You poor things never can imagine another career."

He chuckled a little, thought, Yeah. Better this than flipping burgers, and passed out.