Lipid Transfer (CW: Fatfur, Big Hand paws, Manual Transformation, Conservation of Mass, Shared Bank of Fat, Weight Loss/Gain, Clothes Straining, Rolls of Chin and Cheek Pudge, Flustered Enjoyment.)

       

       Tris wrapped his meaty hands under the heft of his broad belly and bounced it lightly, looking up from the curve of his stomach to the full-length mirror in front of him. While it was pleasant to be big sometimes, other times it could just be a hassle.

       On the other end of the living room, HT was on the couch. The raccoon was grasping onto a pair of controllers for the game he was focused on. As usual he wore an orange hoodie and some khaki pants, but this particular pull-over had text printed on it in gold: 'Tristan's Hoard'

       The hefty Labrador cupped over his chest with his broad hands and squished down and towards his spine. The black dog grunted a bit as he closed his eyes and dragged his hands downward over his belly, his chest far less padded in its wake. 

       On the couch, the raccoon's chest swelled underneath his hoodie, pressing his arms apart slightly. As he noticed this, his stomach began to bloat out, pounds rapidly settling onto his person and starting to drive the lower hem of his jacket up to reveal his grey fur.

       Tristan finished pressing in on his gut with both hands, leaving it a pleasantly soft potbelly rather than the mass he'd sported earlier. The dog then pressed the joint between his paw and his thumb against his armpit and ground downward like he was unrolling his sleeves. The weighty, marshmallowy padding that gave the limb its thick appearance vanished in the wake of this motion. He repeated it on the other arm as soon as he had finished.

       HT paused his game, letting out a gasp as one of his arms started to strain the fabric of his hoodie's sleeve, making it even harder to keep his paws close to one another. Then the other arm swelled to match it a moment later. He raised an arm and shook it, seeing even through the thick jacket sleeve that his arms were plush and wobbly now. 

       The Labrador, seemingly unaware of his mate's distress, simply pressed his palms against his chubby cheeks, pressing inward. He dragged his hands down and curled his fingers to grind down over the double chin he'd developed from all that fat he'd piled on.

       The raccoon's cheeks practically glowed with a purple blush beneath the fur as they blossomed out into heavy plump curves. Almost immediately after, his own double chin swelled and made him feel like even looking straight forward was squishing down on his neck like when he tilted his chin to his chest. "H-Hey!" He finally called out.

       Tris turned, his body quite a bit more pear-shaped than before and downright svelte above the solar plexus. "Hmmm?" He acted innocent, but a smirk was pulling at the corner of his mouth.

       Smooshing his shoulders up into his cheeks, chest and arms fighting for room as he tried to duck a bit into his hood out of embarrassment. "At least..." He fidgeted, a whine escaping his throat before he continued. "Tell me you're gonna do that, first..."

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       Vicarious Gourmand (CW: Implied Vore, Vore Tattoos, Culinary Descriptions, Predding for a Living, Body Sharing)

       

       Neil pulled up a chart on his tablet. On it was a meal plan chart, with each meal highlighted in a different color. The brown bear was shirtless as he walked through the door into his dining room. He wasn't expecting any company who wasn't there already, after all. 

       This of course afforded a view of many marks in his brown fur along his belly and sides, profiles of different animals in bright, saturated color popping against his own hue. They also happened to be the colors assigned to meals on his schedule. 

       He checked the time and then which meal was next. Cyan blue, which matched the profile of some kind of dog or wolf on his midsection. 

       Just on time, a large platter was wheeled out by a griffon wearing a chef's toque. 

       Neil sat at the head of the table, smiling. "Canine spread?"

       "Of course, Mister Brown." The chef replied, sliding the platter onto the table and lifting the bell cover. 

       Before the bruin lay a three-course spread. For the appetizer was a beautifully precisely bloomed onion, fried in panko rather than batter, along with a fruit salad comprised mainly of grapes. The entrée was a forty-clove garlic chicken in a brandy sauce, with a side of a grilled ear of corn, drenched in butter. The dessert was a glass bowl filled with an airy chocolate mousse and a slice of a chocolate opera cake, each layer perfectly clean and visible. To one side was a lime sorbet as a palate cleanser. 

       Apart from the sorbet, each course would likely send a canid to the emergency room. 

       "Bon Appetit." The griffon trilled warmly, holding the bell of the dish in front of his hips as he gave a light bow. "I hope your clients find this meal an excellent experience."

       Neil nodded to the chef in response, pressing a finger against the sky-blue canid marking on his stomach. Instantly he felt the sensation of stored minds within his body awakening. He had three dogs at the moment, and all three he granted access to his senses. "Good afternoon, pups." He murmured affectionately to the trio as he tore a chunk off of the onion bloom, dipping it luxuriously slowly into its paired sauce. 

       The bear felt them tremble in anticipation, the scents of the food already fed to them via Neil's nostrils. He brought his claws up to his muzzle and delicately bit into the fried onion, closing his eyes.

       Three appreciative groans filled his mind at the flavor. 

       "We've hardly started." He muttered playfully.



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       Living PC Box (Contains: Obese Pokémon, Implied Vore, Sentient Fat Struggle Bulges, Pokémon Battles, an exasperated Trainer and his Very Happy Raichu) 

       

       The Trainer should have realized that despite the lack of clothes the lady sunbathing on the beach might be another trainer. A simple delve into the bag next to her blanket and she had a pokéball out, tacitly locking the Trainer into a fight.

       The tawny-haired sunbather threw her ball onto the sand, red energy surging out of it. Rather than a creature flying out, however, the very sand beneath surged upward into something resembling a sand castle, the ball resting atop the central spire. A palosand. Ground/Ghost.

       She must have noticed that his partner Pokémon was half electric. But from the look on her face, she likely didn't get that good a look. 

       From the side of the Trainer, floating around from the back, Raichu came into full view of the enemy trainer and her Pokémon. Of the Alolan variety, he had a secondary psychic type, which allowed him to levitate. Most of his type stood atop the large bolt-spade of their long tails, letting it support their weight. 

       This Raichu, however, was seated casually upon it like a surfer on still water dipping their feet into the sea. Most raichu of his type weren't nearly as... round. Raichu was padded out greatly, an absolute marshmallow of a Pokémon from his fat, wing-like ears to his ankles. His bolt-spade was fairly broad and cushiony looking, but even then, it couldn't quite compete with the Pokémon's backside. 

       Raichu's massive cheeks sagged off the sides of the broad blade, conforming to the soft curve until they hung over thin air, like a snorlax attempting to sit on anything smaller than a sofa. His belly kept his thunder thighs spread as well, the bottom curve just barely resting on the center point of the bolt-shaped platform. Despite his mass, nothing looked saggy or folding in on itself. It was as if a standard raichu had just inflated somewhat. 

       The Trainer held a hand out in front of his partner Pokémon, turning his head. "That's a ground type, Raichu. Let's let one of the others handle this."

       Raichu pouted, but didn't seem too upset about this. 

       The lady, still seated on her beach towel, expected her opponent to reach for another pokéball.

       Taking the barring hand and turning it to a point forward, the Trainer instead simply called out a Pokémon's name, as though they were out of their ball as well. "Umbreon, Go!"

       Instantly, Raichu's stomach distended with the forepaws and face of a vulpine creature. The imprint strained against the flab, unable to press any further outward. A muffled 'breeeeee' sounded from the bulge of Umbreon's face, forepaws wiggling in confusion. 

       The Trainer perked and turned his head to Raichu. "You told me that if I let you store the team on you, they could come out when they need to." He frowned.

       On her towel, the enemy trainer stared in disbelief at this display. Her palosand similarly seemed perplexed, parapets bowing outward as he strained to look up at the floating Pokémon. 

       Raichu looked like he was having a wonderful time, smiling up at his Trainer. "Rai rai..."

       "Fine... if you aren't letting Umbreon out, we'll try someone else."

       Eyes lighting up, the chubby chu reached out with his soft paws and pressed Umbreon's own grasping paws back into his gut. His mouth opened in a wider smile, drooling a little as he huffed with pleasure, eyes lidded. He curled his paws up under Umbreon's chin and guided the imprint into a kiss.

       Umbreon let out a soft, bashful sounding noise, before relaxing from his struggle. Raichu's belly returned to normal with a wobble of impact from the pudge returning to its perfect, marshmallowy softness.

       "Okay. Ponyta!" The Trainer pointed dramatically again.

       Raichu perked, rotating in the air. As soon as his broad, squished cheeks were facing the battlefield, a new imprint appeared an equine snout and forelegs pressing out, stretching the rodent's hide. This bulge, however, was postured as if the trapped ponyta was being sat on by her team leader. 

       A muffled "Taaaa!" came from Raichu's backside.

       The Trainer slapped his gloved palm to his face with a groan.

       Raichu rolled forward a bit on his spade, revealing more of his rear to the enemy team and reveling in the stretching sensation. "Raaaaaiiii~"



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       Rainy Day (Implied Vore, Showering, Predscape)

       

       Frost tested the water with his fingers. The white tiger found the temperature pleasantly hot against his pads, so he stepped over the threshold into his shower stall. His broad chest was immediately drenched by the shower head, rivulets soaking his fluffy fur down over the heft of his belly below. He closed the stall door behind him with his tail and let out a sigh. 

       A capybara behind the wheel of his car perked as it suddenly started raining. The warmth suffused through the cabin of his vehicle rapidly. All around him other cars were coming to a gentle halt, and so did the rodent. He turned off the engine and shifted the car into park, sinking back into his chair.

       A ferret in an office building heard the water strike the windows nearby. The air within the office went from room temperature to sauna-warmth shortly after. In cubicles all around him, everyone was slumping down in their seats or resting their head and arms on their desks.

       A pair of dalmatians heard the rain hit the roof of their little house and immediately headed to the couch. They nestled together as the warmth washed over them, soft whines escaping their muzzles as they grew drowsy and cuddled tightly to one another.

       Frost's face was a mask of peace as he stood and let the warmth of his shower soak into his very being, resonating through so many others...

       
       
       
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       Pectoral Maxiumus (Contains: Prey Perspective Pec Vore, Sentient Muscle, Mixed Body Mapping, Sexual Allusion)

       

       The twinky deer trembled, his face buried between the pecs of such a handsome, muscular male. A soft bleating moan escaped him as the muscles clenched on his cheeks. How did he get so lucky on a first date?

       Just as he was pondering this, the relaxing of the flex brought his shoulders in contact with the slabs of flesh. Wait... the valley wasn't so deep his whole head was between them, was it? 

       Just then, they felt the flesh around their snout ripple, squeeze, and most surprisingly, pull. His shoulders were dragged right down to where the sides of his face had been a moment prior, pinning his upper arms to his ribs. The cervine let out another bleat. He should have hit sternum by now. This gut was big, but there was no way he'd fit entirely between those beautiful pecs...

       His thoughts were distracted by the broad, strong hands of his date scooping under his shins and bringing his knees to his chest, the spurs of his hooves pressing against his own thighs near the hem of his booty shorts. 

       The deer flitted his leaf-shaped tail over his wide hips as another flex pinned his legs in place as well. He felt his rear cheeks get compressed by one of his date's strong forearms, as the bottom of his hooves were pressed on as well, likely the opposite arm. This squeeze, combined with the cleft of the muscular male's chest somehow parting to allow him deeper still, meant that he was soon hidden from the world.

       He trembled, the tight embrace overwhelming for the twink. He felt the arms leave his hips and hooves, but the next clench told him that the powerful slabs of the pectorals were wrapping over his cheeks. A whine escaped him. He was really going to be fully contained... Held near that thundering heartbeat...

       He could no longer feel any air from the outside, powerful muscles closing in on every inch of his body. It was overwhelmingly warm, verging on hot. It made him feel soft, especially compared to how hard the muscles got each time they squeezed. It was an unusual massage to be sure, one the cervine had never expected... Soon he just lost track of his pinned limbs, enjoying the warmth and pressure, along with that steady rhythm of his date's heart.... Kind of romantic, actually. 

       Then, he felt a familiar hand grip over his right cheek. Strange... For one thing he was sure his whole rump was hidden inside that chest, unable to be reached. For another, he was certain that hand could grope both his cheeks at once just fine, but it was straining to wrap over even one. ...and he didn't feel his shorts in the way. 

       The hand slipped away, then his glutes flexed, one at a time, then at the same time. The deer perked, he hadn't tried to move at all, but his butt was dancing on its own? What was happening...?

       "Oh... a cutie like you does well as pec mass~" The rumbling voice of his date resonated through the cervine's very being. 

       The realization hit him like a ton of bricks. Somehow, he had been absorbed... and that cheek of his that was groped was one of his date's pecs!

       A thick finger dug into the valley between the massive slabs, digging inward. The muscular male perked up as he felt a tremble from his prey. "Oh... Oh I've never had someone wind up like that in me..." A playful lilt came to his voice as he hooked into the short shorts where they were left in his chest and scooped them free like tugging free a wedgie. 

       Silently the deer whined, trying his best to fidget, but seeming to only cause his predator to do pec bounces unconsciously. 

       "Let's go find someone nice and big and give them a pec job." The muscle-man rumbled. "Bet you wanna hot-dog some guy, right?"

       The deer let out a flustered bleat in his predator's mind as that idea consumed his thoughts.

       
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       Sleep Therapist/Supplement (Contains: Oral Vore, Internal Massage, Insomnia Symptoms, Rapid Soft Digestion, The Glut Gluts, Instant Reformation and References to Medical Institutions)

       

       "Have a good night!" The sheep said cheerfully, his chin resting on the wolf's tongue.

       Said muscle curled up over the ram's muzzle and pulled inward, allowing his teeth to clack shut. The wolf's eyes were bloodshot, the flesh underneath each socket darkened enough to show through the grey fur there. He felt over his throat as the lump traveled down his neck from the force of his peristalsis, settling into a pleasantly heavy mass in his lap. 

       Letting out a sigh, the lupine scooted back on the bed gingerly, before laying down with his head on the pillow. 

       His stomach smoothly began to be distended from within by blunt, three-pointed hooves. The sheep within massaged with practiced movements, finding just the spots that released tension and euphoria through the predator's mind. 

       The wolf groaned, eyes lidding from the treatment. It had been forever since he'd felt drowsy before dawn, but now... there it was, a yawn forced his jaws open, gullet momentarily allowing some of the dim light of the bedroom to shine on the moist visage of the sheep within. 

       A warm croon came from inside. "That's it... just let yourself rest." His prey continued to rub and massage from within, not a single press from one of those hard hooftips causing discomfort.

       Eyes finally drifting shut, the lupine slumped down, tension fading from his limbs as he sank into the pillow properly. At the same time, the stomach that was showing the signs of the life inside moving about so excellently, began to gurgle and clench down.

       By the time the wolf had fully passed out into deep, dreamless sleep, the movements within the belly had faded to slight shifting lumps, nowhere as near detailed as at first. Each abdominal clench made the shapes a bit softer, move a bit slower. Then, with a burbling groan deep inside the canid's lower tract, the belly began to shift and contract down along the predator's frame.

       Glut glut glut glut glut... 

       The wolf's intestines drank up the liquid sheep, every last drop. 

       With a shimmer of light, the sheep stood beside the bed again. He held a hoof over the wolf's face lightly, checking on him with care, before he set to putting his clothing back on. 

       The doctor's coat went on last, labeled with his name and 'Apex Sleep Institute' beneath. 

       
       
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       Refills (Contains: Prey Perspective Cock Vore, Cum Digestion, Sentient Cum, Cock Drinking, Loss of Self and Implied Repetition)

       

       The skunk had lost track of time since he'd first sunk into the pool of seed. His friends had recommended he take a spa day, that this establishment would 'melt his problems away'.  His tail certainly had. And his fingers. He was barely solid, sure that most of the cum he was soaking in had been part of his body when he arrived, up to his chin.

       The massive scrotum gave another clench, the force making him feel softer, more yielding... one more and he was sure... clench.

       He was no longer a skunk. 

       The cum was still awake, however, if barely. He tried to move any of his limbs, but only managed an audible, gurgling churn. Distantly he could feel something happening, almost hear the sound of a hand dragging up and down a big shaft. The one he'd stretched on the way down. 

       The sac clenched around Cum, and he felt himself starting to get pushed up the way he came, stretching out the channel with his volume rather than his mass, this time. 

       It was a surreal sensation. By the time the first of him splashed down into the vessel, he could still feel himself rocketing up the cock, and even still pooled within the balls below. Cum splashed and splashed as gradually he went from one container to another. One warm and soft and yielding, the other glass and cool, though his heat was warming it up quickly. 

       Cum was disoriented, not sure what was going on. If anything, he thought he'd fill a condom. He had no more sense of what his body should be, liquidly taking up the form of his vessel. It was at this point he noticed that at the base of the glass there was something else.

       The valve opened. 

       The seed let out a burble of surprise as he started to drain down a metal pipe, winding through it, before hitting something fleshy and warm. The inside of a urethra he realized. Eager for the warmth he'd been pumped out of, he relaxed and let himself drain from the tank, soon starting to fill up the balls...

       Cum realized, perhaps belatedly, that these weren't the balls he was from. His presence was straining and stretching them, and the sac was far tighter, making his vessel less oblong and hang less off the unknown creature's hips. 

       If he could have blushed, he would have. He'd been drank by another cock, right out of a spigot. None of him was left in the glass container, the valve or the tube. Not even in the cock anymore, fully deposited into an unknown person's sac. 

       Said taut scrotum shifted with the thighs moving alongside it. It took Cum a moment to realize what the movement was: Walking up steps.

       As soon as that finished, the feeling that came from the shaft above being stroked rapidly returned.

       Cum trembled and churned at the realization of what was to come. Oh god. He was going to be drank up by dick after dick... Fuck... Would he even recognize what he was by the end? Whose balls did he belong to? 

       He once again started to gush into the vat.

       
       
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       Rib Cage (Contains: Magical Shenanigans, Invisible Organs, Skeleton Predator, Poofing and Unpoofing)

       

       Seemer awoke to his body swaying back and forth lightly. There was a light, repetitive clacking sound nearby. The bat was confused, letting out a squeak. However, the sound brought back an echo too muddled to be of any use. 

       Digging in his pocket, the chiropteran raised a small sapphire. It sparked to life, illuminating the area. Out and around was a vast stone masonry catacomb. The bat wondered how he got there. 

       But most pressing, was that looking up or down, or back... 

       Seemer appeared to be floating between the pelvis and rib cage of a giant skeleton. The bones were walking on their own, causing the swaying motion and the noises.

       Twisting, the bat attempted to leap out of the gap. An invisible force conformed to his leaf-nosed snout and pushed him back in elastically. It stopped him before he could strike the spinal column and brought him back to sitting aloft within the skeleton.

       One phalange extended as the animated bones gestured "shush" with its pointed skull. 

       Seemer stared in disbelief. He had no idea how he came to be in this situation but like hell he was going to stay. 

       Focusing, the bat abruptly burst into a cloud of sparkling blue mist. Seemer expanded outward, thinking that since he breathed just fine in the magic hold that he would be able to slip free in a gaseous state.

       Instead, the expanding cloud conformed to the shape of a stomach, unable to press out past the ribs. 

       Seemer reconstituted back into his chiropteran form with a frustrated huff.

       The skeleton smugly patted over the space in front of the bat, the hollow sound of a full belly getting struck resounding through the catacomb.

       
       
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       At Work (Contains: Tail-coiling, Kink in Public, Threat of being Caught, Facesitting (kind of), and Long-Term Teasing)

       

       The husky let out a soft moan, voice muffled. His cheeks were squished up enough that his lips were forced to be pursed at all times by a thick, muscular loop of fleshy tail. The rest of the loops formed a perfect coil, compressing around his shoulders and chest, securing his arms to his waist and his legs to one another, and even placing the slimmer section of the appendage across his bare soles. 

       His view of the world was mainly a pair of clothed cheeks, the powerful posterior belonging to the owner of the tail that had him. But from the sounds getting to his ears between the bindings and the rump they were pressing him to were of clinking silverware against plates, people chatting casually, food being cooked...

       Someone was asking the person holding the dog in place a question. "What was that noise? Sounded like it came from under the counter."

       "What noise?" The tail clenched a bit tighter, tugging the husky's face to squash more snugly between those plump, yielding cheeks, grinding his snout into the soft fabric there.

       The husky trembled, but got the point, nodding as much as the coil around his neck would allow... or was he trying to nuzzle into that broad backside? Even he wasn't quite sure.

       The wrapped-up tail relaxed slightly, allowing the dog to breath better. He blushed deeply, exhaling a sigh. He'd lost track of what the owner of that powerful tail was saying during the squeeze, but now his mind refocused on the words being said.

       "Oh yeah, I'm on shift for another six hours..."

       Another tremble ran through the dog's body. Six more hours....

       

       
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       Drink a Slime through a "Straw" (Contains: Fantasy Setting, Tail-Pouncing, Rutting a Goo, Prey of Questionable Sentience, Cock Vore and a Confused Onlooker)

       

       Psi coiled his tail behind his hips on the ground, squaring up on the approaching gelatinous mound. The cobalt blue kobold extended his tail, launching his tiny body up onto the slime. He grasped on, tail curling around it.

       The gremlin artificer who had been attempting to escort the tiny draconid through the dungeon spun around. "Hey! That's not safe for kobolds!"

       The kobold wasn't listening, trembling as he started to hump at the slime, which burbled in confusion. 

       Slowly, the artificer lowered his mace and walked around to the side of the pair. The glowing figure of his eyes behind his goggles widened. 

       Psi's shaft and sac had pressed forth from his genital slit, and he was thrusting into the slime with a blissful expression on his face. As his companion watched, the slit at the tip of the buried shaft gaped open and flexed.

       Jaw dropped, the gremlin watched as the long-tailed kobold's shaft began to visibly and AUDIBLY gulp at the monstrous gel.

       Despite the knowledge that such slimes were often quite powerfully digestive on contact, Psi showed only pleasure, along with no signs of being damaged by his unusual capture method. His tail squeezed in as he rutted into the constantly shrinking enemy, his body lowering towards the dungeon floor.

       Scratching at his temple above his goggle strap with one of the corners of his mace, the gremlin puzzled over what he'd just watched. "Kobolds, man..."

       Psi slumped down into the loops of his tail on his back, lap filled with the mass of his inflated scrotum, not a drop of the slime left outside of them. He panted with pleasure, shaft twitching and leaking as the surface of his sac swayed and bulged with the struggles of the gelatinous monster within. 

       
       
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       Watch Where You're Lifting! (Contains: Big Muscle Himbos, Gym Setting, Accidental Unaware Pec Vore, Chest Bulges, Implied Accidental Unaware Anal Vore)
       

       The weight racks in the gym shuddered with each of his footsteps. Standing 8 feet tall and nearly half that as wide, the T Rex strutted with the assurance that he had nothing to fear in his natural environment. Strained across his muscular torso was a low V-neck tank top in pink with a cyan and black zebra-stripe, manually cut lower to expose the full cleft of his pecs and give him better access to his lats. Below, he was wearing a pair of straining shorts, the waistband of which kept threatening to pull down over the massive globes of his glutes. On his hands he had florescent yellow fingerless gloves, which matched with his sneakers. 

       A gym rat with earbuds hooked into the broad dishes of his ears was on the deadlift platform, having just finished racking up weights on the bar there. He didn't realize the steady thuds were getting closer until he bent down to grasp the bar and a pair of florescent-yellow clad gloves flanked his own.

       The dinosaur hummed to himself, thoughtlessly flexing his glutes and keeping his back straight to lift the bar off the ground to his hips. He gave no indication that he had noticed anyone else on the station at all.

       The rodent stood up as well, letting go of the bar as it was lifted to his chest height by the motion and staggered him back into something warm and soft. He turned his head and stared as he realized he had stumbled into the bulge in the prehistoric predator's shorts, twisting and taking a step away...

       Just then, the T Rex lowered his torso to do the next rep. 

       The rat looked up just in time to see the cleft between the larger male's pecs descending onto his face, the muscles spread slightly from how wide the dinosaur's grip was on the bar. With a wet shluck of sweaty scales on fur, the smaller weight-lifter's head and broad shoulders had vanished into the T Rex's chest.

       Automatically flexing his pecs as he started to lift again, the oblivious dinosaur did another deadlift, grunting at the added weight. He didn't seem to notice that a pair of legs and a tail were dangling in front of his waist, however. The T Rex did another rep, and the rat's hips sank out of sight. Another rep and his knees were threatening to sink between those broad slabs.

       By the time the dinosaur had finished his set and stood upright sans the weight, two wiggling shoes and a bit of tail were just barely visible between his pecs. He stretched his arms and grunted as the last of the rat was sucked into his chest. He rubbed a finger along his cleavage, unable to find any evidence of what caused that feeling. 

       Shrugging, the T Rex headed from the platform over towards the squat rack, not noticing the hands bulging his left pec, nor that his shorts had ridden down entirely to showcase his muscular cheeks beneath his powerful tail.

       Nor that a thick thighed kangaroo had just finished prepping the squat rack, unaware of the approaching danger...



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       AV Club (Contains: An extended long pun on AV and A/V, Anal Vore, College Setting, Open Masturbation, Jock/Nerd Dynamics)
       

       Norm slammed the door open, already rambling. "Oh god I'm sorry I'm late I was just really excited hearing that we got a real A/V Club going a..." The ram trailed off, going stiff. A blush rushed underneath the wool on his cheeks.

       The meeting room was not what he expected. 

       Several big guys in letterman jackets were squatting. Clearly without anything else. One tiger was straddled with his feet on two chairs, and in between a white mouse with a very blatant erection was buried in up to his chest. A bear was already seated over a pair of wiggling deer legs, stroking himself off as the thighs of the smaller male vanished under his bulk gradually. One of the bigger guys not wearing a letterman jacket was bent over a desk, panting blissfully. Sticking out from between his bare cheeks were the head and shoulders of a skunk, seemingly focused intently on what he was doing.

       Everywhere Norm looked, smaller guys were getting stuffed under the tails of bigger guys. "T-The flier said... this was the room for the A/V club...?"

       The tiger clenched powerfully, dragging the mouse's kicking feet up between his legs, before he stepped off the chairs with thuds that shook the room. "Yeah, AV club." He patted over his gut meaningfully. "Anal Vore. You pred or prey?"

       Norm bleated, a wet stain appearing in his shorts as he trembled in place.