FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

A sudden jolt startled Clint awake.

He sat upright in cot, rubbing his eyes in the darkness and taking a few minutes to register the muffled screams from outside his ship's quarters. Another jolt shuddered around him, the sound of splintering wood immediately following, punctuated by a loud crash.

Clint shot to his feet, immediately stumbling on the unevenly pitched floor and knocking his head into the wall. Gripping himself in pain, he felt around for his door, swinging it open and following the stream of panicked passengers down the hall. The boat lurched again, causing a pile of people to stumble to the ground and clog the hallway. Panicked stragglers began to trample in their haste to escape, Clint sidling around them on his way towards the upper deck to see what the hell was going on.

He pushed through the door along with the rest of the frenzied crowd and nearly stopped in his tracks at the sight. The ship he was on was falling apart in before his eyes. The front portion of the boat was simply gone, splintered wood in it's place pointing off in front of him, lifeboats were being lowered to the water on all sides as the ship continued to pitch starboard, screaming passengers toppling off the edge.

Shaking himself out of his stupor, Clint began to follow the flow of the crowd, seeking a means to escape along the edge of the ship. Inching his way towards the nearest lifeboat, which was packed with people as someone attempted to lower it, Clint took baby steps in order to maintain balance. The boat lurched, and Clint watched as the lifeboat toppled, vanishing over the edge of the ship, shouts of terror echoing against the night and being cut off by deafening splashes.

Frantically looking around him for another, he made his way farther down the edge, gripping the wooden railing tightly, he approached the next lifeboat, barely keeping his footing as the ship lurched again. Finding vacant space within it, Clint began to climb in before he felt a sharp pain on the back of his head. Yelping in pain, he turned around to see another panicked passenger, an iron rod in his hand, meeting his eyes with an apologetic expression. He didn't have time to defend himself from the second blow.

Clint felt consciousness slowly return to him. His head ached badly, and his muscles felt painfully stiff. The firm surface beneath him rocked gently back and forth, a soft creaking of wooden supports reaching his ears.

Groaning at the effort, Clint rolled over onto his back, blinking in the bright light. He coughed, his throat feeling dry, and blinked until he could keep his eyes open against the glare. He shifted his head to the side, and felt his heart sink into his chest. His tattered clothes were ripped and soaked against his skin.

He appeared to be laying on small portion of the splintered wreckage of his ship. Pushing himself up, he looked around him, his makeshift raft was just about the size of one of the lifeboats he had been unable to occupy. Upon closer inspection, he concluded that he must be on a capsized chunk of the bottom of his boat.

Wondering how he could have possible ended up there, he pushed himself into a seated position, looking around with the faint hope of finding another survivor here with him, but the short search proved there was no one. Apart from the occasion small pieced of shattered wreckage, there was nothing else around him but endless water stretching all the way out to the horizon.

His heart began to race as the gravity of the situation sunk in. He was alone, out at sea, with nothing but the clothes on his back. Clint had never before felt quite this helpless. He wracked his mind, trying to think of something... anything he could do, but came up empty. He slumped back down on his stomach, sprawled out on the flimsy wooden structure and held his hands over his head, hoping some sort of idea would come to him.

Hours passed and he remained in the same perilous state as before. His strength was dwindling, and he was having a difficult time holding onto the curved wooden surface as it lazily bobbed in the waters. The sun was directly overhead, heat beating down relentlessly on his back, and the irrational longing to drink the salt waters surrounding him grew stronger and stronger.

A soft splashing sounded behind him, and Clint lifted himself high enough to take a look, just in time to see nothing but ripples in the water. Feeling uneasy once again, he watched the ripples as the water surface stilled, some slow movement under the water catching his attention. He watched, his heart starting to race, as a large mass beneath the waves shifted its position, drifting all around the splintered wreckage.

The water's surface exploded before him, something massive erupting from the depths and nearly causing Clint to leap off of his makeshift raft in shock. He shouted as the foam cleared, blinking the salt water from his eyes, and catching sight of what stood before him.

Some manner of enormous sea creature loomed above him, blueish-gray in color, it had a large head perched atop a long serpentine neck that trailed up from the water. It's body below the surface looked to be thick, four huge fins sprouting from its sides, treading water to keep it steady. The beast stared down at Clint, who, for lack of better response, stared back, mouth agape.

The beast licked its lips, a slimy gray tongue gliding across it's maw, before lowering its head down before him, opening its toothless jaws wide. Clint shouted and tried to push himself away, nearly toppling off the edge of his raft. He caught himself, gripping at the wood for dear life, and pressed his face against the raft, eyes shut, waiting for the inevitable.

But nothing happened.

After a few moments, Clint became half convinced that he had imagined the whole encounter. Motivating himself to take another peek, he lifted his head. His gaze was greeted with the abyss of the monster's gaping maw.

Clint's breathing became rapid, he averted his gaze, endlessly bracing himself for the attack that never came. The beast shifted, lowering its head, mouth still open, and placing it down gently against the edge of the raft. Clint sidled as far from the beast as he possibly could without falling into the water, figuring he would be at least twice as doomed down there.

Minuted passed before the sea creature moved. It's mouth shut, it vanished beneath the water briefly, before surfacing on the other side, a loud spray of air and water erupting from a blowhole on its back. The creature remained nearby, lazily looking around and keeping pace with the drifting of Clint's raft.

He looked up at the beast, still feeling wary. To his surprise, the monster met his gaze, locking eye contact with him. He tensed, expecting the creature to attack him, but it did nothing. Once again, it simply lowered its head to be level with Clint's raft, and opened its mouth. Emitting a moan of fear, he sidled away again, waiting for the attack that refused come. Clint watched as the beast remained still, mouth wide open, and held perfectly still for several minutes before shutting it and resuming its previous activities.

Not knowing what to think, Clint kept his distance as best he could from the monster, his heart still racing in terror, though he now felt equal parts scared and confused. Uncomfortable with the beast's presence, he felt the need to keep one eye on the creature as it followed him. The relentless beating of the sun receding as it passed down beyond the horizon. The light seeped away slowly, increasing the anxiety that Clint felt as he would no longer be able to see the monster that followed him.

Darkness seeped across the sky, the moon casting a faint glow on the water. Clint kept his eyes in the direction he had last spotted the sea creature. Two specks of light appeared, and Clint has the uneasy feeling that the monster was still watching him, the moonlight glinting off of its eyes.

He did not recall falling asleep, but the next thing he knew the faint glow of dawn was out across the horizon. He sputtered as flecks of water landed on his face, the sound of the monster's blowhole expelling water reaching Clint's ears. He jolted up, shaking the sleep out of his head, and immediately regretting it as his aching head pounding painfully in his skull.

His body ached twice as badly as it had the previous day, his thirst growing severe. He felt himself crawling to the side of the raft, about to reach into the sea for water when he caught sight of the sea creature once again. Seeing that Clint has met its gaze, it lowered its head down to his lever, looking into his eyes for a brief moment before opening its mouth wide again.

Clint gasped as shuffled away from the monster once more, sobbing. "Wh... why are you doing this..." He whispered, more to himself than to the beast. "What's going on...." The beast shut its mouth, staring intently at him.

The sun crept up across the sky, the familiar intensity of the heat stinging his sore neck. He picked his head up again, searching the horizon for the faint hope of seeing anything other than rubble and his aquatic tormentor.

Hours passed, hours spent in near agony of thirst, aches, and burns. Clint, kept his head down, breathing deeply, and feeling his hands shake feebly as he clutched the splintery wood of the raft. The monster kept up the same habit of occasionally displaying its open maw whenever Clint acknowledged its existence, but doing nothing more to him than that. This most recent time, Clint made no effort to move away from it.

The monster's breath gusted onto Clint's arm. He felt his instincts screaming at him to flee, but his fear of the beast had diminished. He turned his head, staring into the dark depths beyond its gums, the slimy gray tongue remaining within its mouth. "Can you understand me?" Clint asked, on a whim. The creature lowered its upper jaw slightly, to continue looking into his eyes, before resuming its previous position. Clint had no idea how to take that...

The sun continued to beat down on him. The heat was becoming unbearable, with no availability of shade within his grasp. His throat stung with the need for water, and it was becoming more and more apparent that he had little chance for survival. The sea creature had chosen that time to briefly submerge itself beneath the water, and Craig felt the briefest pang of loneliness at its absence. He had been nothing but weak and vulnerable for at least the last 24 hours. The monster had ample time to drag him off, consume him, drown him, anything... but it hadn't.

When the first emotion he felt upon its return was relief, he knew he was losing it. Deciding he could no longer endure the torture of his current situation, he pushed himself up, sitting slumped forward, his arms and legs shaking. "What are you going to do to me..." He asked, whispering to himself, the beast at his side turning its head towards him.

Wanting nothing more than to be out of the sun and off of the hard wooden raft, he raised his head, tears in his eyes, and stared into the eyes of the beast. As expected, it lowered its head down to his level, and opened its mouth wide, remaining motionless after doing so. Unable to shake the feeling that he was making an enormous mistake, but no longer caring, he tentatively lifted his bare feet off of the raft and placed them hesitantly on the edge of the creature's mouth. His toes touched the soft warm muscle of the beast's tongue. Clint braced himself, his heart racing, wondering if and when the creature would do anything further, but it kept still.

Taking a deep breath that was interrupted by a sob, Clint lifted his feet. "Please..." He whispered, not knowing what else he could possibly say. He placed his feet down against the creature's slimy tongue, and braced himself by planting his hands on its nose. Taking a deep breath and praying that he wasn't making a mistake, he heaved himself forward, doing it quick so that he didn't have time to change his mind.

His rear landed on the beast's spongy tongue as his feet and ankles slid towards the back of the sea creature's throat, still gripping tightly to its nose. He felt the beast gently lift its head up, carry Clint up with it. He could still catch a glimpse of the beast's eyes. It's gaze was gentle, and seemed pleased. Clint was briefly comforted by the thought that he could detect no hunger in it's expression.

The beast began to tilt its head back, making Clint rather anxious as he felt his legs start to sink down towards its throat. The creature eased its mouth open and closed, working Clint's body down as the tongue cupped his back his grip still tight to its nose. He felt the tight muscle against his toes start to part, and his instinctively tried to pull back, but gravity was against him, and his feet slipped down, squeezed into its tight throat.

His heart racing, Clint began to feel regret, fear started to resurface, and he tried to calm himself down with deep breaths. The creature gently pressed its jaws down against the back of his hands, and in shock, Clint let go.

He felt himself slip and drop a short distance before the slick friction of the beast's slimy insides caught him. His head now beneath the edges of the monster's jaws, its tongue slid around his back, sliding up his neck and over the top of his head, brushing slimily against his forehead. The beast slowly shut its mouth, cutting Clint off from the sunlight.

Finally free from the piercing heat of the sunlight, the beast sloshed Clint around in its mouth, his feet still sinking down into the tight throat beneath him. The tongue became rigid, pressing him against the roof of the monster's mouth. Clint only had a moment to feel dread creep up on him before the beast swallowed.

The squelching sound beneath him rushed up to greet his ears as he plunged down into the widely parted throat. The friction caught his body, his knees pressed against his chest and his arms reaching up above him. Clint struggles, feeling his body slip back and forth as the tight meat of the beast's esophagus clung to him firmly, cupping against his every nook and cranny.

He slid down the creature's serpentine neck, feeling as though he could picture the large bulge that contained him in the beast's neck sliding down towards the water. His heart raced in panic as he slipped farther into sea creature's body. The darkness was absolute, cradling his aching body as he was squeezed lower and lower.

Clint felt his feet press against a bend in the creature's throat as his form was forced down into the main bulk of the creature's body. His feet passed through a tight ring of hard muscle, and Clint felt himself wriggle among the slimy muscle in resistance, knowing it was for nothing, as he was squeezed into a small tight chamber of hot meat.

He took an involuntary breath, his nostrils instantly filled with a fishy stench that made him gag. He squirmed against the flesh, curled up into fetal position, as the walls slowly expanded. He took another breath, the scent of seawater accompanying the existing odors, and the world lurched around him.

He felt as though he was falling, the entire bulk of the monster shifting its position in the water, descending into the depths before leveling out. Clint held himself still, sprawled out on the slimy soft flesh of what he assumed was the beast's stomach, and feeling the movement of the monster's body out in the real world.

It took him a good few minutes before it dawned on him that he was still capable of breathing. He took a deep breath, his lungs filling with air, just to make sure it wasn't in his imagination. No longer subject to the writhing relentless motion of the beast's throat, he felt around the chamber that housed him, his fingers brushing on slick flesh wherever he reached, cushioning his body from all directions.

Clint tried to straighten his body out, but his confines were too cramped to allow that, his feet and head pressed against opposite sides of the chamber, stretching the springy meat of the walls, before his knees were even bent at right angles.

After what had felt like ten minutes, Clint felt his fear begin to ease. Having previously been unsure if the beast intended to aid him, or offer a more merciful end to his life, he now allowed himself to hope for his own survival.

Clint rolled over, laying face up and letting his aching, burning back press down against the soft rippling flesh, his knees pulled up against his chest as his feet pressed against the slimy chamber walls. He shut his eyes against the absolute darkness, feeling the motion of the creature's passage through the water as the pressures of the flesh against his body shifted slightly. He felt the beast rise up rapidly just before the chamber began to compress. The walls pulled inwards, squishing Clint's body down as the hot meat cradled him closely, folding around his entire body and leaving him with a lack of air.

The brief discomfort and unease was diminished when the chamber began to expand once more, and Clint realized that the beast was filling it with fresh air from the blowhole. He took a deep grateful breath of air, laced with the scent of saltwater, before settling back down against the soft flesh.

Clint had lost all sense of time. He could not tell whether he had been within the beast for a couple of hours or an entire day. He had dozed off at several times, rudely awoken when the slick walls had compressed around his body as the beast replenished his breathable air.

Clint shifted in the darkness, feeling himself beading with sweat among the heat of the creature's body. He swallowed his own saliva, hoping to briefly sate the powerful thirst he still had. His aches had eased, and his burns felt soothed, but he knew he still needed water and needed it fast. He shifted himself again, laying down on his stomach against the cradling flesh, feeling it cup against his chest, his knees bent out to his sides.

Feeling the beast start to rise once again, Clint heaved himself up to his side, having a little trouble balancing on the shifting flesh, his hand slipping out from under him and falling with a soft splat back into the cradling grip of hot meat. The movement of the beast slowed down, and Clint felt short lurching motions forward. He picked his head up, looking around in the pitch darkness, as the chamber compressed around him once more, this time the tight walls pulsing firmly around him.

Not knowing what was going on, Clint heaved himself up, the pressure on his shoulder getting uncomfortable as the sack of flesh firmly squeezed him. He writhed against the soft muscle, feeling the top of his head breach back past the hard ring of flesh that he had to pass upon entry into the fleshy chamber.

Excitement spiking, Clint endured the motion of hot meat around him, feeling the pressure around him force his body back up through the tight tube of the creature's throat. A firm gagging motion forced him a short distance back up the beast's throat, feeling himself briefly slide back down by the throat's natural motion before another gag pushed him back up.

The process to lift him from the beast's throat was an arduous one. After a few minutes he felt cool air on his head and saw a glimpse of blindingly bright light. His upper body was gagged free of the tight esophagus, making him gasp gratefully for fresh air. His shoulder pressed down on the beast's tongue, which cradled around his chest to east his descent from the creature's mouth. Briefly hung upside down, he felt himself deposited onto the sandy surface of a beach, his back and legs sliding against the slimy tongue as it gently lowered him down.

His wet legs landed on the sand and Clint sat up, feeling solid ground beneath him. Relief soared through his heart as he squinted and blinked to allow his eyes to adjust. It was dawn, whether that meant he had been in there for half a day or a day and a half he did not know, but he was alive, and he was on solid land.

He look up before him. Still half in the water was the sea monster, it's huge bulky body casting a shadow over his body as its head arced down to gaze at him. Clint shakily got to his feet, gratefully placing his hands on the beast's nose to steady himself before leaning against the bulk of the creature's body, tears of relief stinging his eyes. He wrapped his arms as far as they could reach around the creature's neck, and felt it lick the sand off of the back of his neck in response.

Clint took a step back, his throat too parched to talk, and nodded his thanks to the beast before taking a few uneasy steps away from the coast. He caught a glimpse of a cookfire in the distance and began walking straight for it. He heard a splash in the water behind him, and he turned back just in time to see the beast dip its head down beneath the surface, swimming back out to sea. He stood still and watched until he could not see it anymore, before continuing to make his was towards food and water.