FSE

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formerly SoFurry search engine

Strike, a tall, handsome dingo with a golden pelt and blonde, short spikes of hair between his ears, followed the strangers into the forest. They were all much stronger looking and more intimidating than him, so he quietly followed as they led the way through the curving paths of the deep forest.

After an epidemic stock market crash in the year 4118, there was an immediate change in the governmental system which thereby led to a revolution. Strike had lived on his own for several months when, one misfortunate day, he scavenged in the forest - as usual - and instead of hunting successfully, another fellow anthro spoiled his chances by aggressively killing his prey and mauling it with a spear head. She looked just like him, with a lighter shade of blonde hair. She wore cloth where her breasts and sex would normally be.

Strike showed hostility and growled as the female held up his previously potential prey up close to her muzzle.

"Hey! What are you doing?!" Strike tempered, displeased by such an encounter.

She held the rabbit up to her mouth, the mangled body limp in her grip, and dropped it down her gullet.

And didn't even swallow. She licked her chops and let out a little burp, releasing her taunting motives through her wicked aura.

He knew that she was a girl, but he'd never felt so much anger towards another of his kind in his life.

"Y-you monster!" Strike howled, snarling menacingly.

Strike ran towards the female dingo with clenched fists when she retaliated by flipping forwards onto her hands and kicking him square in the stomach. While Strike heaved for breath, the canine lunged at him with a fist. He tossed it aside, stumbling backwards from her previous blow.

He really didn't want to hurt her; he was brought up better than that. But that person just performed the unimaginable, and he wouldn't tolerate fools, no matter what gender.

She threw many punches at his shoulders, making them ache and causing Strike's fists to fly up to cover, when the female simply tripped him and punched his ribs. Strike had to defend himself without inflicting too much pain.

The next attack was a round kick aiming for his head when he ducked just in time, his ears bending at the contact, and while she spun around for another kick, he kicked out one of her legs and shoved her, and shoved her hard.

She fell hard onto the grassy forest floor, shaking her head in utter shock. She growled back at him as he was suddenly physically turned around. A large male German Shepherd looked outraged and grabbed Strike by the scruff of his neck and threw him at an oak. Strike screeched in pain as he felt as if the back of his neck was stripped off, aside the fact that his encounter had become rather unfair. He thudded against the sharp tree and dropped down to the floor on his chest with an 'oof'.

The female from earlier picked him up and punched him hardly in the nose, making him bleed. It dropped along his neck and his mind and body screamed its' fatigue. Strike was pushed at the buff Shepherd. He managed to duck six of his heavy punches and Strike grabbed the left side of his head and punched him across the muzzle. He spat out blood and punched Strike in the chest, sending him flying. He lost his wind and struggled to breath; although he clearly was unable to fight and struggling on the cold forest floor, a third and a fourth anthro crept out between the trees, assisting the other two in throwing Strike about.

They were clearly rubbed the wrong way when he pushed that girl, Strike decided as he continued his struggle.

Despite his situation, he managed to throw a punch or two, landing many successful muzzle and leg shots.

It was constantly unfair.

Strike, eventually, lost consciousness and blacked out, visioning the pain his body was experiencing and somehow enduring. After his body seemed to completely shut down, the strangers walked up to him, assuming the worst.

Strikes golden eyes shined an infinitely bright gold now and his whites, blinding all of them. He got up, bleeding all over and cut open deeply. His expression was emotionless and he stood there, perfectly still, surrounded by four intimidating fighters. Strike felt nothing but darkness and an inability to function properly.

The fight continued when - as the four looked at Strike and each other, confused - they shrugged and threw their attacks at him when Strike jumped up ten feet into the air, missing all of their hits. Strike came down with mighty force down on one of the newcomers, a white female wolf. She yelped as Strikes foot came down on her head and crashed into the ground. The Shepherd slung an outward punch and it made contact with Strike's head, causing his head to tilt to the right. He looked up at the Shepherd who was staring at him in shock. Strike jumped up and kicked him in the midsection, sending him backwards and onto his knees, gasping heavily for air. He pushed the other newcomer, a yellow dingo, away with enough force to send them crashing into the oaks.

The female dingo approached Strike, ready for anything. Instead of attacking or defending himself, he shut down.

He was soon surrounded again, and everything collapsed into nothing.

Strike walked behind them, confused as to what they wanted with him, and he was curious as to why they all were injured. Even he himself had dried blood crusting up all around him. They said they'd tell later, and that made him feel antsy.

They made it into the camp. There were almost a dozen other anthros roaming the center field, all of them stopping what they were doing to look at Strike. Some were hostile and others assumed otherwise.

Strike was brought to a tall male wolf. He assumed this was likely their leader.

"Warchief, we found this wanderer attempting to hunt in our land," the German Shepherd asserted.

The wolf looked at Strike, and nodded. He motioned for the female dingo to give him a brief tour. They left discreetly.

"What happened, Lander?" Warchief questioned him. Warchief happened to have this knowledge and intillect about him.

"He fought Crash bravely. I stepped in once he became a possible threat. We all stepped in eventually. He defended himself..."

"He kicked our asses!" The yellow dingo, whom Strike had fought earlier, barked, interrupting the much bigger canine.

"...He has potential, chief," Lander muttered.

Warchief hummed, impressed by the story.

Warchief thought momentarily, then barked,

"This is Crash's fight to begin with, hmm? Have her test this 'ability' of his. It sounds impressive, but it could also backfire. If we hear that he's trustworthy and loyal to her, he can train with us."

Strike and Crash walked off into the denser forest at the will of Lander and Flight, the white she-wolf. Strike still had no idea what was happening. Was this a test?

"Do you even remember what happened?" She wondered.

Strike slowly nodded.

"I began to remember as you showed me

around. It's all so weird in my head."

Crash walked him to a spot in the forest where the trees stood the tallest and the sun evaporated over their heads with the shade of the pines and leaves. They walked through some brambles where they ended up in a secretive land with soft, yellow grass.

"I'd come here as a pup. It's beautiful, even more so with the sun going down," he cooed.

Strike looked at the swaying grass and captivating sky. He was mostly captivated, however, by Crash's beauty.

"Yeah... It's great. Wow."

They both let their minds slip away and lay down together, looking up at the plushy clouds.

They talked the sun away. It still partly shone across the horizon when Crash said,

"Do you trust me?"

Strike nodded.

Crash cooed, "I need to figure out how your power works, Strike. Can you show me?"

Strike sat her up, shaking his head.

"I can't control it. I'm not sure why, but it only happens when I'm desperate."

Crash shrugged.

"I'll test it out for you," she barked.

"How would you do it?" Strike asked.

"Let's see if this triggers your little secret."

She rubbed against his body, giving him an instant hard on. She smiled sweetly. She licked Strike's face roughly, giving him wet kisses all over. She soaked him in her sloppy saliva as she sat up on his naked belly. Strike felt her heat against his body. He uncomfortably shifted around as Crash continuously kissed him. His penis twitched with anxious anticipation as her hot breath hit him between the eyes. She moved her ass down to his dick where her buns kissed the sensitive skin. He winced in anticipation as Crash mewed,

"Not this time."

She retreated a bit from his pulsing bone and licked his lips. He licked her back, understanding her wishes (although was quite disappointed).

She curled him up towards her. She opened her mouth wide and yawned, noticing that the sun had gone down.

"Hey, it's late. Should we get back to camp?" Strike asked, still sticky from her saliva.

"No, not yet! I still have to test you," she murred.

"I thought you didn't want to do that..." He whispered, embarrassed.

Crash nodded.

"Yeah, not that. Sorry I hesitated earlier, but I'm ready to show you what I had in mind.

"Do you remember that prey that I took?" She teased.

Strike mumbled, "Yeah, so?"

"That was a while ago."

Strike was still confused as to how anything that she was saying wasn't making any sense to him.

Her stomach growled.

Strike frowned. "You know you took my meal for today, right? I don't feel all that bad for you."

She grinned. "I have a high-metabolism," she proudly stated, shoving Strike's muzzle in her own. Strike's eyes widened tremendously as Crash's mouth did the same around his entire head. Crash swallowed him down quickly, sending Strike's head downwards into her gut along with his shoulders.

Strike struggled immensely as Crash gulped down his back with haste and clamped her jaws around his butt where she savored his tastes before gulping down his muscle-toned legs and fluffy tail. Hot saliva built up around him and she gulped on, sending him past her esophagus and into her powerful dome.

She sat in the fields, grasping and massaging the bulge in her beautiful belly as his heels slid down through the course of Crash's maw. She licked and tasted Strike's sweaty feet before finally gulping him down. The final bulge coursing through her insides hurt her throat, but she triumphantly licked her lips and patted her belly, setting off a massive burp.

Crash conversed with the disproportionate size of her gut.

"I'm going to digest you, Strike. Are you just going to let me do that?" She playfully teased, slapping her belly in her ticklish areas.

Strike echoed from her loud, churning belly,

"I won't do that, Crash! I won't hurt you! But please, let me out! It's tight in here! And hot! Can't breathe," He shouted, worried about the seriousness of the entire situation.

"You're just too soft, Strike. But... I've been messing with you, I'm not going to digest you! You passed the test!" She happily proclaimed.

Strike sighed in relief. "That's a relief," he sighed in relief. "I guess it could be worse. Just a little too humid. But you'll let me out, right?"

Crash rubbed her belly and lonely sex, murring,

"Of course, my one and only! I just gotta finish what I'm doing first."

Strike wondered what she was doing while he drifted off into slumber.

Crash pleased herself then laid back, looking at the constellations of the night sky.

It was a warm night though, thankfully... especially for Strike.