On the morning of July 19, 1968, in a midsized town called Steracano, two friends snored in the muggy darkness of their deteriorating second-floor apartment as the setting moon projected a pale beam through the room’s broken window. It shone upon the black fur of an excessively-muscular wolf named Anaxarco, who was too tall and almost too wide for the bare twin XL mattress on which he slept. On the other mattress rested an eighteen-year-old fox named Fernando (called “Fer” for short; that’s pronounced “fare”), who lay about five feet long, with white and gold fur. He woke up with a dry mouth, an impatient stomach, and a very brave cockroach perched on the tip his nose. It took his groggy brain a moment to recognize the bug’s silhouette in the predawn gloom, but its twitching antennae tipped him off to its species. He glared at it in annoyance while choosing an appropriate penalty for disturbing his slumber until a quiet growl from his empty belly gave him an idea. A flick of his tongue knocked the pest between his jaws, and a effortless ulp pulled it down his throat. He could feel its legs tickling the sides of his esophagus as it tried to climb out, but it nevertheless slid down to his stomach to be forgotten and digested over the next few minutes. If only we had a rat infestation, he thought, we’d be eating like kings. He pushed himself upright and took yesterday’s socks from the floor beside his bed. Though they were small, stinky, and full of holes, they were better than nothing and all his other pairs were dirtier. He chose not to make the bed, instead leaving his sheet curled up beside the mattress; it had been too hot to cover himself overnight, and he assumed this condition would persist. He unfolded a pair of baggy black shorts, which he had been using as a pillow, and slipped them on before walking to the kitchen. He opened the fridge, hoping that something edible had magically appeared inside overnight, though he knew full well it would be empty as usual. Food went so fast, in fact, that he usually left it unplugged. He then turned the tap open to get himself a drink. It took about 30 seconds for the water to start coming out, and even then it was only a trickle. Having sweated out all his moisture overnight in the merciless equatorial heat, he happily chugged the cloudy, lukewarm fluid until the faucet yielded no more. He carefully set the glass down beside the sink, saving the last bit of water for his sleeping comrade. Only then did he happen to glance at the clock. He yelped in shock at the hour: he had slept in on bread day! It was 5:00 in the morning, and people generally started lining up at the distribution center around 4:00. If he didn’t get there right away, there might not be anything left for him. He rushed back to the bedroom and pounced upon his roomate, shaking him awake with energetic urgency. The still-sleeping wolf groaned aggressively, slapping Fer in the cheek and burying his own snout into the mattress in one fluid motion. 

“Wake up, Anaxarco, It’s already 5:00! We need to go get bread, the line’s already reached halfway down the block. If you want to eat this week, get the fuck up. If you’re too lazy to pick up your loaf, I’m not sharing mine with you!”

The scrawny boy lifted one side of the mattress with great difficulty, causing the much larger wolf to slide off of it and fall to the floor. His cheekbone thudded painfully against the ground, and the fox threw a quarter of a glass of room temperature water onto his head for good measure. The cold (as compared to his overheated bed) concrete and the unsolicited shower forced the wolf out of his slumber, who cringed in discomfort as he finally sat up. Fer handed him the water.

“Drink up, we gotta go right now.”

He swallowed the remainder in a single gulp. The fox then swiped the empty glass from his hand and put it back on the kitchen counter as the wolf grabbed a fistful of grimy, inflated currency from under his mattress. He put on a pair of light gray shorts and jogged after Fer, who was already scampering out the front door. Most streets in Steracano did not have any functioning streetlights, but he sprinted his way through the darkness and mosquitos without bumping into anyone (though there were a few close shaves). Anaxarco struggled to keep up despite his longer legs, weighed down by his muscular upper body. His wider build prevented him from dancing around the other pedestrians as Fer did, but a simple “Move!” made them step aside in fear of getting bowled over by the wolf’s superior heft. The canines soon found the back of the chow line. It was surprisingly orderly that day; the police had managed to keep the crowd in a loose quadruple-file line, rather than the usual circular clump that typically surrounded the bread shed at sunrise. This was both good and bad for the two amigos: Fer would not be trampled in a semi-organised cue as in a free-for-all, but Anaxarco could not fight his way to the front of the line when things were under control. Fer and Anaxarco passed the time with small talk and Rock Paper Scissors, trying in vain to forget their growing hunger as the line crawled forward lethargically and night turned to dawn. After an hour and a half of sore feet, grumbling tummies, and foul-smelling claustrophobia, the boys were mere meters away from the grain man. They salivated as they watched the stout capybara behind the counter hand out stale loaves in exchange for fat wads of cash, which he swept into a bin on the floor beside him. Judging by the substantial quantity of bread left on the shelves behind him, Fer and Anaxarco had gotten in line in time to buy a portion for themselves. The people in front of them, clearly a group of friends, approached the capybara. The lioness at the front of the pack, a full-figured (by Steracano standards) woman of about 30 years, leaned towards the rodent and murmured something in his ear as she paid him for a bun. Oddly, not a single member of her entourage purchased any for themselves. They followed her into a black limousine with a waiting chauffeur, which drove off as soon as the last man stepped in. When Anaxarco asked the cashier for his ration, the capybara ignored him. Instead, he cleared his throat, hopped upon the counter, and brought a megaphone to his mouth. Though there must have been a few hundred loaves sitting behind him in plain sight, he declared the shop “Sold out!” Gasps and murmurs rippled throughout the lineup, and he went on damage control:

“Do not be alarmed, friends; the Ministry has already been informed of the situation, and will address your concerns promptly. Indeed, I have been told plans are in place to double this week’s dairy ration as compensation for the grain shortage. I know you all have been waiting patiently to enjoy this morning’s fresh bread, brothers and sisters, but you must go home now. There isn’t a single crumb left in the building, but I assure you, our comrades in the fields and the bakeries are pushing themselves to greater heights each day to bring you bigger and better buns when you need them most. We thank you all for your labor and your trust, and will continue to work our hardest to maintain your freedom and prosperity as long the nation stands. And remember, we’re all in this together, like one big family. Those who sacrifice the most for this country will see it flourish in their loving hands; and those who mooch, panic, whine, and steal will be smashed like roaches.”

He took a deep breath, and pumped his fist into the air as he roared at the top of his lungs:

“LONG LIVE THE REVOLUTION!”

He pulled the cash bins into the store’s dimly-lit interior and slammed the garage door shut behind him, just in time to avoid the jaws of a rather disgruntled crocodile man who had clambered over the counter with predatory intent. Almost instantaneously, the crowd erupted into indignant shouting. Desperate as they were, the two dogs knew that such outrage never amounted to anything. Anaxarco lifted Fer into a piggyback and shoved his way through the mob. He set him down on the other side of the street, where they sat on a treestump to seethe in disappointment while watching the chaos unfold. They pondered the prospect of food with knitted brows and hunched backs, listening to their stomachs rumble and scowling at the whole rotten world. 

“What the hell was that?” Fer asked Anaxarco, puzzled by the ordinarily reasonable capybara’s ridiculous behavior, “And what’s gotten into Canuto? Not only did he hold back our rations, he felt the need to lie about it to our faces as if we couldn’t see all the full shelves behind him. He stood up and publicly spewed the same garbage that we usually make fun of.”

“It’s that damn lioness,” said the wolf with distaste, “you saw how she whispered in his ear before he closed the shop. With tits like that, I wouldn’t be surprised if she ate a whole warehouse a day. And judging by the length of her limo, I doubt Canuto could refuse her instructions without being punished. He shut the doors on us to save his own skin, and you would have done the same thing in his position. Can you really blame him for showing a little ‘patriotic spirit’ when the stakes are so high?”

Fer grimaced with exasperation: “First they took away the newspaper, then they took away the food, and now they’re taking away our friends. There isn’t a single aspect of my life that they aren’t fucking with. They just can’t stand leaving me alone for a single second.”

Anaxarco sighed. “Forget about politics. Forget about Canuto and the lioness, there’s nothing we can do about them anyways. Let’s go find something to eat, shall we?”

“What are we going to eat today,” Fer inquired, “If not bread?”

“Well,” Anaxarco suggested, “we can break back into the morgue-”

“No. Not again. I am fucking sick of carcasses. I want bread, not diseased skin and rotting bones. Scavenge all the dead meat you want, but don’t come crying to me when you’re dying of Hepatitis.”

“Come on, Fer, don’t be such a baby. You know you can’t afford to be picky nowadays. A guy’s gotta eat, after all. You need lots of protein if you want to be big and strong like me.”

“I won’t eat another bite of it,” Fer insisted.

“You’ll change your mind eventually,” predicted Anaxarco, before changing the subject. “How are you going to get the bread?”

Fer shrugged.

“Get in the depot, pig out, and go home.”

“That’s an absolutely brilliant plan,” Anaxarco said jokingly, “but how are you going to get inside?”

Fer shrugged again.

“I don’t know, why don’t you figure it out?”

“As I said, I’m still not on board with this break-in. The inside is probably swarming with guards, and I’m hungry for meat anyways.”

“Think of what we’re missing out on. You saw them with your own eyes: hundreds of buns, sitting around gathering dust while we starve. “

Anaxarco sat silent for a minute, watching the raging townsfolk kick and scream at the warehouse walls. It had no windows and strong doors. There was, however, a small chimney on top; and a readily-climbable tree branch hanging right over it.

“That’s your way in,” he said, pointing to the narrow tube jutting out of the building’s flat roof.

“There’s no way I’m gonna fit down there.”

The wolf laughed. “I suppose we’ll dine on bodies tonight, after all.”

Fer scowled at the thought. “Alright, fine, we’ll try the chimney.”

He walked over to the tree and made his way to the chimney. With considerable effort, he managed to squeeze his thighs through the top of the pipe, but his bony hips were a little too wide to slip through. 

“What we need,” Anaxarco said, “is some lubricant. Shall we pay the refinery a visit?”

Fer knew exactly what Anaxarco was proposing, and did not like it one bit. It was one thing to cover himself in oil, but walking five blocks with everybody staring at your grease-dripping fur was a bridge too far.

“You’re nuts.”

“Then you’ll have to go hungry. What a shame.”

Fer’s aching belly released a pitiful gwruuuuuuul, and he realized that delay was no longer an option. He had to eat, and nothing else mattered. Rather than walking back home, he turned east toward the silhouettes of great smokestacks against the backdrop of a bright red sunrise. Anaxarco gave him an encouraging slap on the back, and told him “That’s the spirit!” They strode purposefully towards the complex, single-minded in their determination to get their hands on the forbidden loaves no matter the cost. When they arrived, the were greeted by the husky at the gate: 

“What are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be in the oil field right now? 

“We’ve had reports of the deliverymen taking a few barrels for themselves, so the boss sent me down here to make sure all the oil arrived safe and sound,” Anaxarco lied.

The husky raised his eyebrows in disbelief: “They’re stealing our crude now? I knew nothing was sacred around here, but this is ridiculous. Come on in, I’ll show you to the depot.”

He undid the padlock and swung the gate open; Fer and Anaxarco thanked him as they walked through. They followed him to a dusty yard on the other side of the facility, where thousands of oil drums waited; some meticulously stacked for easy counting and handling, others strewn about haphazardly by sloppy workers.

“Well, there they are. We received 80 000 barrels yesterday evening, and have processed about half of them.”

Anaxarco knit his brow, as if this information worried him.

“That’s odd. I’m gonna need a moment alone with the oil, I have to check something out.“

The husky gave Anaxarco a confused look and walked away. Anaxarco led Fer to a secluded spot hidden among the steel drums. They looked around to make sure nobody was watching and removed the lid from one of the cylinders. Doubt and dread filled the fox’s brain as the reality of his impending greasiness set in. He felt gross just thinking about it, but the thought of an hour alone with a warehouse of bread kept him from running away.

“You oughta take your clothes off, unless you want them ruined.”

Fer wisely heeded this warning, and took off his shorts and socks.

“Yes, that means underwear too.”

Regret consumed the boy as he removed his tighty-whities and stepped towards the container. He stood nude with his hands on the rim, unable to muster the courage to climb in. He stared at his reflection in the viscous ooze and whimpered as its sour, sulfurous smell rose to his nose. Anaxarco, without warning, lifted him up effortlessly by the back of the neck and gently lowered him towards the dark sauce. Fer lifted his feet away from the liquid, writhing in the wolf’s iron grasp and begging him to stop.

“Don’t be such a baby. It’s just a little slime, it’s not gonna kill you.”

Fer, realizing he could no longer back out of the plan, let his legs hang limp. Anaxarco dipped the fox’s toes into the thick fluid, and felt him tense up in discomfort. Oil overflowed at the edges of the container, displaced by Fer’s modest volume. He squealed and swore as it touched his paws, whining as he felt it soak into his leg fur. His shins disappeared into the pitch-black fluid, and he watched in horror as his knees were submerged shortly after. The filthy fuel coated his every hair and stuck to his skin, covering his thighs in a slimy sensation. He shivered in disgust as it spread to his ballsack and entered his sheath. As his buttcheeks sunk below the muck, he had to clench his ass with all his might to keep the awful lubricant from getting inside.

“For God’s sake, Anaxarco, quit dawdling and get it over with! I can’t take another second of this shit, I’m going insane!”

“Quiet down, we’re supposed to be counting barrels here. I can’t just plunge you in, I don’t want to get myself splashed.“

Fer’s flat belly descended into the pure petroleum, followed by his comparatively prominent ribcage. His paws finally reached the bottom of the barrel, and he had to bend his knees so the oil could rise up to his shoulders.

“You can pull me out now,“ he said with more than a hint of annoyance.

“Close your eyes and plug your nose. I have to glaze your head so nobody will recognize you.”

Fer opened his mouth to protest, but before a word could escape, Anaxarco shoved his face into the abyss. He was able to close his eyes in time to keep them clean, and Anaxarco’s hands kept the slime out of his ears, but he still received a bitter mouthful of oil. Anaxarco yanked the fox’s head out of it as roughly as he had pushed it in. He spat it out and snorted it from his nose as he reemerged from the barrel. He then turned to glower at Anaxarco, who was clearly having way too much fun. Anaxarco looked proudly upon his slippery, unidentifiable friend, confident that he could slide through the bread store chimney like a hot stick of butter.

“What the fuck, man!” 

Though Fer was absolutely furious, Anaxarco could not take the greasy boy seriously. He had to look away to avoid bursting into laughter, as the only distinguishable features of his partner-in-crime were the whites of his eyes and the pink inside his ears. 

“I despise you,” said the younger canine as he rubbed his excess oil off on the wolf, streaking his thick fur with the filthy fluid.

Anaxarco shoved him back.

“Hey, don’t wipe it all off! You still have to get inside the bread shop. After that, you can splash me as much as you want. I’ll be too stuffed to care.“ 

Fer took a deep breath, seemingly convinced of his need to stay lubricated.

“You’re right, let’s go.”

Anaxarco started walking away. Fer picked up the barrel, as his baptism had pushed out enough oil to make it rather light, and prepared to throw its contents at the wolf.

“Wait,” cried the oily fox with urgency.

Anaxarco turned back around to ask him what happened, and was met with a wave of black gold flying towards his face. He grimaced as it flowed down his snout, chest, abs, and shorts.  

“Don’t be mad, Anaxarco, I just don’t want anyone to recognize you.”

The older man chuckled, unwilling to escalate the conflict any further and eager to get on with the heist. “I deserved that. Are we even?”

Fer nodded, and they made their way towards the exit. Anaxarco tapped the guard husky on the shoulder.

“Sorry for bothering you, but it looks like we had a false alarm. All the oil is where it’s supposed to be. I’ll see you around.”

The husky did not seem to hear a word he said, morbidly enthralled by Fer’s shiny black coating and astonished by his conspicuous lack of clothing.

“Dear God, what happened to him?”

“Oh,” Anaxarco replied, “We had a bit of an accident; one of the barrels was stuck to the ground, and when we finally got it loose, it tipped over and soaked us.”

The husky doubled over with laughter. As he recovered, he shook his head and said with a good-natured grin:

“What a bunch of fucking idiots you are. See you around.”

He unlocked the gate, held it open for the visitors, and giggled to himself as he shut it behind them. Slippery as a bar of soap from head to toe, Fer clung to Anaxarco’s beefy arm with both hands to keep his balance. His slender midriff and exposed dick, still dripping black onto the sidewalk with every step, glistened in the morning sun. The march back to the storehouse was every bit as humiliating as expected: raised eyebrows greeted them at every corner, and mothers (understandably) covered the eyes of their children as they passed by. Nobody spoke to them, as most people were too busy looking for a way to get some food for themselves. The street in front of the ration repository was mostly empty by the time they had arrived; the frustrated townsfolk had all given up on finding a way in by that point, or were driven away by the police. Six stood guard at the front of the building, armed with AK-47s. They seemed to be taking their job more seriously than usual, standing up straight and keeping themselves from the usual joking and small talk. Anaxarco figured they were enduring some sort of performance evaluation: an official-looking gazelle with a suit and tie stood in the shadow of an awning across the road, cooly observing them while smoking a cigar. As soon as the fox and wolf saw the patrol, they backed away; clearly, nobody was allowed near the building. They ducked behind a dumpster in a nearby alley, where they could talk in privacy.

“What now?” asked Fer in a frustrated whisper.

“We give up. Apparently, somebody cares enough about that bread to station half the army in front of it. I’m as hungry as you are, but it’s not worth getting thrown in prison for a few lousy buns. Meat is better anyways. Let’s just go to the hospital and eat whoever dies.“

Fer was fuming, “I did not let you dip me in oil for nothing. I’m going to stuff myself with bread today or die trying, with or without you.”

“You’re being absurd, Fer, please grow the fuck up. We have to cut our losses when the cops are involved.”

“What, so we can spend the rest of our lives struggling to find food? So we can go through this same shit all over again tomorrow, and the day after, and for every day afterwards? I can’t take another day of rotten meat. I’ve fucking had it with this place, its empty shelves, and its worthless money. Everyone who matters is either self-serving, incompetent, or both. If we find a way to get all that bread out, we won’t have to worry about food for months. I can hear your belly growling at the mention of it. I know how long you’ve been craving a real meal. We can’t live like this forever. Getting food has been getting harder every day since the revolution, what makes you think our lives will ever stop getting worse in this town? Soon enough, people will smarten up and stop leaving bodies on the street for us to eat. They’ll start charging big money for them on the black market. What will sustain us then? Nothing at all. Either we get those loaves, or we starve to death in a few months. It’s now or never; who knows how long they’ll keep the rations in the warehouse? I’m tired, hungry, desperate, and glazed with oil. I am ready and willing to do whatever it takes to make those buns mine. We will never get a better opportunity to make it out of this shitty, degraded existence. Caution can buy us nothing but death here. Let’s come up with a real plan and take every last crumb in the shed. We can sell what we don’t eat, and spend our way out of this garbage country, or at least this neglected corner of it. Maybe we could even trade the bread for a car! We could buy ourselves some guns, and shoot every problem that gets in our way until we run out of ammo. We could bribe ourselves a border guard and make a living by selling foreign stuff in the sewers. And maybe, if there’s anything left over, we can celebrate with an evening of blackjack, hookers, tequila, and rum. We could be cruising through the desert totally hammered at 90 miles an hour by this time tomorrow, getting sucked off by the city’s most expensive bunny girls and blasting every road sign we pass just for fun. Why settle for hell when we could be in heaven?”

Anaxarco stared at the wall for a moment, mulling over the fox’s proposition, and nodded.

“We’ll have to go into this apartment building and jump to the tree through that window. You’ll go down the chimney and throw the bread back up. I’ll toss it into the apartment, and when we’ve got it all, we can climb back through the window and declare a feast.”

Fer grinned in anticipation: “Sounds like a plan. Let’s go!”

______

Nora, a white rabbit of about 20 years, was trying to enjoy her grain ration when she heard a knock on the door. “Azahar,” she asked, “were you expecting visitors?”

Her roomate shook her head, equally clueless as to who was at the door. The brown-furred rat stood one-and-a-half heads taller than the bunny, and was eight years older than her. She wore a stern look on her face by default, cool-headed yet strong-willed by nature. Her face, tits, and underbelly were a lighter shade of brown than the rest of her body.

The knock came again, louder this time. Alarmed, Nora grabbed a cleaver from the kitchen counter and cautiously approached the door. She was greeted by an unusual sight at the peephole: a 7-foot-tall superhunk of a wolf smiling and waving at her, accompanied by some sort of slimy bipedal swamp creature, soaked in dark filth as if had emerged from the murky depths mere minutes ago. She held her knife tight, and asked them what they wanted through the door.

“We need to use your window, my son’s ball got stuck in the tree outside,” Anaxarco said with a hand on Fer’s back.

Nora knew that was a lie. She ran to the window, examined the tree, and went back to the door.

“There is no ball here. Go away.”

“We’re here to do business with you. Please let us in.”

“Make your proposition through the door.”

“We’re taking the bread from the depot, and we need access to the chimney. If you let us in, we’ll give you 5% of what we take.”

“Ten,” countered the bunny.

“Seven,” answered Anaxarco.

“Eight,” she insisted.

“Alright, fine, eight percent. Will you open the door?”

Scared shitless of the predatory canine, but too hungry to send him away, the white rabbit unlocked the door and cracked it a few inches open. The boys waited politely as she looked over them suspiciously. She held her knife tight, shivering as the growling of his stomach reminded her of how tasty she looked. Azahar stood behind her with a heavy-looking ax in her hands, ready to help her fight him if he pounced. Predation of a fellow anthro, of course, was punished by death in every civilized corner of the globe, but he seemed hungry enough to swallow her whole if she let her guard down. 

At last, Nora let them pass, and quickly shut the door behind them. Anaxarco thanked her, keeping a cautious eye on the steel blade she held, and approached the window.

“It’s my apartment too, you know,” said Azahar. “Nora may have let you through the door, but you still have to convince me to let you through the window.”

The boys looked at each other, unsure what to make of that statement.

“What do you want?” asked Anaxarco.

“Another 8%”

“6%”

The bunny whispered something to the rat, inducing a slight smile at the edges of her mouth.

“6% and a a day’s worth of sexual favours.”

“I’ll do sex and 5%”

A feral rat hopped upon the table, picked up the rabbit’s half-eaten bun, and dragged it into the crumby, hairy space below the fridge.

The infuriated bunny spoke up: “5%, pest control, and all the wolf cock we can handle.”

“Deal, and my buddy here gets window access too.” replied Anaxarco. The apartment’s residents were satisfied by this arrangement.

He shook hands with them both. As the rabbit pulled him into the bedroom, Azahar reminded Fer of his agreed-upon task:

“You’re on extermination duty. If you haven’t killed every mouse, rat, and bug in this suite by the time we’re done with your friend, we won’t let you through the window. Is that understood?” 

“Yes Ma’am,” he said enthusiastically, eager to fill his rumbling belly with the squirming of helpless rodents. The anthropomorphic rat joined her roomate in the bedroom, leaving Fer to his work. He could hear the rat beneath the refrigerator crunching on the crust of the stolen bread. He grabbed an old broom from the corner, stuck it under the refrigerator, and swept the pest into the middle of the kitchen floor. The rat bolted back towards safety, but Fer pounced on him before he could make it. He squeaked in pain when the fox’s ribs smashed into his back, flattening him against the tiles. Fer felt the rodent’s struggling die down under the weight of his chest, and pulled him out for some teasing. He dangled him by the back of his neck in front of his open maw, torturing the poor beast with a preview of his pitch-dark tomb. When the stunned creature stared into this fatal void, he thrashed and kicked with redoubled vigor. Fer lifted him above his snout, licked his lips, and dropped him in. He fell fast, unable to find any traction upon his predator’s slimy tongue. The world went dark, and with one GLRK, he was pulled into the gooey confines of Fer’s throat. He left a small bulge on the fox’s neck as the tunnel of well-lubricated muscle remorselessly squeezed him toward the stomach. He fell into the acid headfirst, squealing in horror as it burnt his eyes and filled his nose. The sounds of digestion echoed around him as he set himself upright, submerged up to his chest in the painful green fluid. He threw his shoulder into the stomach walls, hoping against all hope that he could make the hungry boy cough him up. His skin started to sting, and he broke into a fit of adrenaline-induced struggling. His efforts were barely noticeable from the outside: a slight bulge appeared for each slam, and disappeared momentarily. Rather than causing Fer indigestion and discomfort, the rat’s fighting only managed to cover himself more thoroughly in digestive juices while bringing predatory pleasure to the carnivore. Fer happily let out a small urp, giving his tummy a good pat for a job well done. One rat, of course, was not enough to sate him. If anything, the taste of fur and fear brought his evolutionary desires to a boil. Rock-hard and high on the thrill of the hunt, he swung open the cabinet beneath the sink. A lone mouse stood amidst the dust and rodent droppings, munching on some unidentifiable crumb. Her heart skipped a beat when Fer looked rapaciously into her eyes, and she dashed for cover instinctually. She was fast, but his hands were faster. Though her body had vanished into a hole at the back of the crawlspace, her tail was firmly in his grasp. He yanked her out, chucked her into his mouth, and snapped his jaws shut behind her.

GLRP

Smaller and weaker than his previous prey, she slid down Fer’s esophagus quickly and easily. She landed on the rat’s head and tumbled into the bubbling acid, which reached above her ears. Fer squeezed his still-flat belly with both hands, crushing his prey to the point of immobility just for cruelty’s sake. He rubbed them as they soaked up his digestive juices, viscerally gratified by their distress. He heard them squealing inside him as he melted and squished them into thick paste, and knew he needed more. A minute of sniffing around led him to a bag of oats, which apparently contained some tasty-smelling meat as well. He plunged his hand into the cereal, grabbed a fat rat by the neck, and shoved her between his jaws. Her butt was wider than his throat, but he was able to push her down with his hand.

GLK

A massive bump sank through his neck and faded into his chest. His stomach was rather crowded by that point; none of the rats had any space to move, and his ordinarily skinny midsection stuck out noticeably. It had been many months since Fer last felt that full, but he knew that Azahar expected him to kill more than just 3 pests. He didn’t mind, either way: the more he ate, the more he wanted. The weakening squirms of his prey provided him a massage the likes of which he had never experienced before; he could barely resist the temptation to jack off. But he still had a job to do, so he instead put a pot of water on the stove - he planned to pour it into the mousehole to force out its residents and gobble them up en masse. While waiting for the water to boil, he figured he should clear out the vents - he could hear and smell multiple rats skittering through the metal pipes. He unscrewed the grate using a butterknife and slid into the darkness beyond. Despite his lean build, he could barely fit inside, but the slick sauce coating his fur allowed him to slither through the shaft with relative ease. The smell of rat grew stronger as he advanced through the ventilation system, culminating when he cornered the rodents where the vent turned upward. He heard them trying to climb the cliff of sheer steel, though it predictably lacked the traction to grant them escape. Promptly giving up on the prospect of flight, they turned to their teeth for salvation. Completely blind in the depths of the metal labyrinth, they charged at Fer in a disorganized wave. 

They were no match for his bony knuckles, which bashed them against the wall until they were too weak to keep fighting. They nipped and scratched at whatever flesh they could find, drawing blood from his hands and arms. A few of them lunged at his head, and were immediately gobbled up by the hungry boy. Some were swallowed completely intact, others were dismembered or otherwise incapacitated beforehand with a quick chomp or two from the fox. He did not have the time to chew any of them thoroughly, so most of them reached his stomach alive, only with broken bones and open wounds. They tried to pull back when they felt his saliva on their paws, but his tongue invariably overpowered them and wrestled them into his waiting gullet. They left a few scratches on his tongue and on his cheeks, but this seemed to anger rather than deter him. Yet others tried to climb over his back, which smashed them against the ceiling to devastating effect. Not one of them managed to slip away. After about 25 seconds of close combat, the rats lay in a helpless pile at the vent’s end, twitching, bleeding, wheezing, and squirming, though every movement hurt. There must have been 15 or 20 of them, Fer estimated. The insignificant injuries he sustained did not bother him; they added to the thrill of the hunt, in fact. Having beaten his prey senseless, the fox took his time savoring them. The salty taste of their flesh and blood filled his mouth as he sucked and salivated on them, tossing and constricting them in every possible way to extract the flavor. His tongue played sadistically with them, abusing their aching muscles most severely. He had fun squashing them against the roof of his mouth and squishing them with his cheeks until they gave up and went limp. His throat was equally unpleasant to the pests, who found themselves being squeezed from all sides on their way to his belly. The ones outside heard their brethren being gulped down one by one, trying in vain panic to think of a way out as the overwhelming stench of sweat and petroleum suffocated them. They heard the terrified squealing of his victims as they melted or drowned to death in his sizzling acid, and then the sounds of their liquefied bodies being pumped into Fer’s guts. The pressure was immense inside his stomach; he ground it into the floor in an effort to digest them faster, as he would not be able to leave the vent until his stomach had shrunken down to a more manageable size. The cracking of bones and the gurgles of digestion echoed through the vents, raising numerous questions in the heads of the building’s residents. 

After a few more heavenly minutes of rubbing and grinding, Fer was ready to return to the kitchen. He figured his water was finished boiling, and he wanted to continue the feast. He squirmed his way back through the ventshaft, turned off the stove, and poured the contents of the bubbling cauldron into the rodent’s nest. He set the empty pot aside and waited by the mousehole on all fours, holding his mouth open in front of the exit. Rats began to leap from the hole immediately, driven from the safety of their home by the scalding deluge. Fer snapped them up as they emerged and swallowed each one without so much as a lick; if he took the time to savor his prey, others might be able to escape. Before they could figure out what had happened, they were already swimming in the remains of their liquefied kin. The stench of blood suffocated them, while the bones floating around in the chyme gave them a grim preview of their impending fate. Grumbles and gurgles surrounded them as they lost their fur, drowning out their squeals of pain and panic. They tried to climb up the stomach walls as the acids took their skin, tickling Fer to the point of hysteria without accomplishing much else. He squeezed his enormous belly between his knees and kneaded it with his paws, packing his prey into an ever-tighter space as they lost their minds from the intensified stinging. They had neither the strength nor the room to keep their heads above the digestive slop, and passed out one by one from lack of oxygen or loss of blood. Their limp bodies fell apart without the skin to keep them intact and sank to the bottom of his belly. The muscles melted off their bones, thickening the meaty goop in which they stewed. Fer bit his lip as felt his cock grow hard under the weight of his decomposing prey, massaging his tummy vigorously to accelerate their full dissolution. He felt their molten flesh sink into his intestines as their skulls cracked and crumbled from the pressure in his gut. He rubbed his belly with his left hand and stroked his rod with his right, too aroused by his own stomach to contain his passion. Driven to panting as pre flowed from the end of his tool, he closed his eyes and got off to the sound of his stomach. He felt a gaseous pressure building up inside him, and whimpered in horny anticipation of what would come next. It rose through his chest and erupted from his mouth in an ear-shattering HUUUUUUOOOOOORRRRRRRK. A rat’s skull and a collection of smaller bones, slick with thick red chyme, shot from his maw and clattered against the refrigerator before falling to the floor. The skull bounced back to Fer’s side, staring at him in horror with vacant eyesockets. He picked it up and licked it clean, savoring the bitterness of the acidic sauce before taking a moment to admire the brilliant white bone it once coated.

Unbeknownst to the fox, one final pest remained alive in the apartment, watching him from the top of the fridge. Tetrico was a 4 inch mouse with a 1.5 inch boner, black fur, and vorarephilic tendencies. Ever since Fer walked into the unit, a battle between gutslut lust and self-preservation had been raging within Tetrico. The fighting had ground to a stalemate: he loved life too much to offer himself to the fox as a meal, but he was to horny to scurry to safety and miss out on his show. So he lay silently on the fridge, grinding his meat against the warm steel below as he fantasized about becoming food for the bigger boy. His most recent burp had tilted the scales in favor of temptation, causing Tetrico to hop down into plain sight. He stood about a yard away from Fer’s feet, lured towards his doom by the dog’s enormous gut and his musky paws. He slowed down as he approached him, and when he was a foot away, he stopped. Deep down, he knew that a predator’s stomach was the worst place on earth. Regret flooded the rodent’s brain as his rationality came back to life. He turned tail and sprinted away in one swift motion, but he had already passed the point of no return. He squeaked as Fer grabbed his neck between his big and second toes. He tried to pry himself free with both hands, but the fox was just too strong. He pressed the pest against the floor with his taint, smothering his face with his sweaty ballsack and his chyme-heavy belly. The stench, the weight, and the cruel domination threw Tetrico back into horny mode. He managed to roll onto his back despite the pressure, at which point he began rubbing Fer’s nuts with his tongue. The canine blinked in appreciative surprise at this unsolicited gesture of adoration. In return, he squashed the mouse with his belly, indulging his prey’s submissive nature to the best of his ability.

“You’re really into this, huh? You like the stink of my sweaty ass and the taste of my massive balls? You’re aroused by the gurgling of my belly and the crushing weight of my digested prey on your back? Well, you’re in luck: I think I’ve got just enough room to pack you in with them.”

Tetrico didn’t even struggle when Fer picked him up, hopelessly eager to become a snack for the sexy fox. As he lifted him to his open maw by the loose skin on his back, terror took hold of the mouse once again. In an instant, his slavish temperament evaporated completely. He twisted around and bit into Fer’s thumb, forcing a yelp of shock from the smug dog. Enraged, Fer dove at his prey. He landed on his tummy with his paws millimeters away from Tetrico’s tail as it vanished under the fridge. The mouse reappeared at the side of it, safely out of reach. Fer could scarcely move due to the size of his belly, and was consequently stranded face down, ass up. Tetrico’s fear subsided as quickly as it had arrived, leaving him at the mercy of his backward fetish. He climbed onto the counter behind Fer and took a good long look at his asscheeks, which were already starting to round out with the fat of his digested friends. He then hopped onto the boy’s back and lifted his tail to examine his cock, balls, and anus. A single whiff of his summer musk sent Tetrico to heaven. He took a minute to slurp the salty flavor of his taint and nutsack, after wiping off the oil with a piece of newsprint. He then penetrated Fer’s anus with his tongue, licking the clenched ring until it glistened with his spit. Fer had never taken anything up the ass before; he found it utterly disgusting, yet somehow arousing. He considered calling for help, but figured that the mouse would run away if he did. That simply would not do: he had to keep Tetrico engaged until he could find a way to kill him for the contract’s sake. Besides, if Anaxarco had to rescue him from murine sodomy, he would tease him about it for the rest of their lives. So Fer chose to take his ordeal in silence, sparing himself the embarrassment of getting caught on the bottom.

Tetrico just sat there pondering the canine’s junk, as he was once again caught between two conflicting desires: the desire to stuff himself into the bigger guy’s butthole, and the desire to work his manly equipment down below. Due to his miniscule stature, Tetrico could not reach both at once. He thus concluded that pleasuring the boy was a two-man job. Since all his near neighbors were now fox fat, he had to walk all the way to another apartment to procure the necessary manpower. Though most of his acquaintances were now dead, he knew the perfect fellow for the task: a white rat named Icaro, known to the building’s dirtier rodents as the gayest and most fearless on the second floor. After evading the cruel teeth of the doberman who lived in the suite across the hall, Tetrico popped into Icaro’s mousehole and found him sucking himself off. Tetrico shoved him over, yanked his tail, and kicked him in the ribs; Icaro probably would not have paid him any mind otherwise.

“Jesus, Tetrico, what’s the emergency? Can’tcha see I’m tryna concentrate here?”

“THERE’S A FOX IN AZAHAR’S APARTMENT WHO JUST SWALLOWED AND DIGESTED ALL THE RATS THERE AND HE’S STUCK IN THE MIDDLE OF THE KITCHEN WITH HIS BUTT AND GENITALIA EXPOSED!” 

Before Tetrico even finished his sentence, Icaro pushed him out of the way and bolted for the door. Tetrico followed close behind, narrowly avoiding having his spine broken by the disgruntled doberman’s foot on the way out. Icaro knew exactly what to do when he cast his eyes upon Fer’s throbbing dick, sweaty balls, and tight bunghole:

“Tetrico, be a good boy and stick yourself up our new friend’s ass.”

He climbed up the back of his leg and sat on his lower back, taking a moment to sniff his puckered doughnut before taking the plunge. He held onto Fer’s tail with his feet while he stretched his anus open with his front paws. He took a deep breath, shut his eyes, and shoved his snout into it. This forced a “Hnnf” of sheer pleasure out of his blushing predator, whose butthole clenched so hard it almost cut Tetrico in half. The horny rodent nevertheless pulled himself deeper, sliding his chest and stomach inside with considerable effort. Once his arms were too far in to grab anything, it was up to Icaro to shove him the rest of the way in. The rat suspended himself partway down Fer’s tail and kicked Tetrico’s buttcheeks until they slid through the larger male’s sphincter with a loud shlrp. Tetrico pulled his tail and feet in with relative ease, but the friction of it was enough to cause Fer to release another groan of unbridled carnality.

“Push your head and torso back out.”

Tetrico twisted himself around and pushed his head back through Fer’s anus, stretching it wide and forcing a sigh of lust from its owner. The mouse squeezed his arms through the fox’s backdoor one by one, plastering a full ahegao on his face. His balls and taint were within licking range for Tetrico, who began tickling them with his tongue at once. 

“Now,” Icaro commanded, “grab my feet.”

Tetrico did as he was told, savoring the taste of canine musk all the while. Icaro hung upside down with his hips squished into Fer’s nutsack and his chest pressing against the throbbing wad of flesh below. He put one paw on either side of it, pumping his arms up and down for the fox’s gratification. The heat of the greater beast’s unsheathed member flowed into Icaro’s paws as pre dripped from the end of it, which the rat lapped up greedily. He jacked Fer off until he reached maximum arousal; judging by his panting, he was about to cum. Having successfully warmed the boy up, Icaro launched phase 2 of his plan with the following command to Tetrico:

“Let me go and climb out, I need your help down here.”

Tetrico followed the rat’s instructions. Icaro mounted his shoulders and positioned his snout directly underneath Fer’s dickhole. He opened his mouth to receive pre dripping upon him. The hot viscous batter drove him crazy, sending him to a level of arousal he had never experienced before. The white rat jumped up and grabbed Fer’s shaft with both hands, slamming his nose directly into his urethra and pulling himself in with surprising strength. Fer shivered in delight. Prior to that moment, he did not think it was physiologically possible to eat with his dick, but the rat somehow made his phallus cooperate. Just when he thought the rodent could fit no deeper, Icaro drove himself further in. Soon enough, Fer was doing all the work himself. The rat’s lower body hung limp from his stiff sausage as it pulled his midsection inside. Pre soaked into his fur like saliva, and the urethral walls crushed the air out of his lungs. Tetrico watched in horny horror as the fox’s cock sucked up his compadre in a series of pulses, each punctuated by a wet schlk. Before long, only Icaro’s feet and tail were left visible, dangling submissively from Fer’s veiny canine cock. They twitched in excitement even as his head and chest were compacted under unimaginable pressure, demonstrating the full extent of his lust. Icaro knew it was too late to back out, but he could not bring himself to care. He knew he was about to be digested into fox cum, but that only made his dick harder. Tetrico heard squeals of joy coming from Icaro as he squirmed and struggled for his pitiless predator. His cock slurped up the rat’s tail ravenously, at once drawing his snout into his nutsack. He was soon immersed in the thick batter within. Fer’s scrotum tightened up around him, immobilizing him as he felt his fur melting off. The cum soaked into his skin until he could no longer tell where his flesh ended and the cream began. He tried moving his limbs, only to find that they had already been liquefied. All his muscles, in fact, had been dissolved; Icaro could not even muster the slightest twitch. He could not feel anything below his neck, as all his nerves had been digested too. His organs and blood transformed into sauce soon after. Icaro died in ecstasy, having fulfilled his most coveted fantasy by turning into cum for his happy canine predator. His bones broke down over a few dozen seconds, and there was nothing left of him after that.

Fer came with a moan, shooting Icaro’s boiling remains onto the floor behind him. His climax lasted 10 seconds; his dick pumped and pumped until the entire rat was nutted out. He left a huge puddle behind; Fer did not relish the idea of having to mop it all up. Numerous drops of cum splattered onto Tetrico, who decided he had seen enough. He left the room, took up residence in Icaro’s now-vacant home, and lived happily ever after.

_______________________________________________________

When Azahar joined her in the bedroom, Nora was already sitting naked on Anaxarco’s lap. She felt his cock hardening beneath her as she ground her tush into his groin.

“I see you’ve gone ahead and called dibs on our guest. No coin flip, no rock-paper scissors, no nothin’. That’s real fuckin’ classy of you. You could have just asked to go first, instead of just going behind my back like that. I wasn’t aware ‘besties before testes’ was merely a suggestion to you. I’m not mad, I honestly just expected better. I guess there isn’t anyone I can trust on the earth, after all. Go ahead and enjoy your wolf cock, since it’s so important. After all, who needs old friends when you can have pred hunks instead? Just don’t scream for me when you’re slipping down his throat. And please, try not to clog the toilet on the way out.”

“Don’t come any closer, Azahar, or I’ll bite your face off,” hissed Nora in response. “He’s mine until I say he’s yours. I swear I’m going to die if I go another ten seconds without his dick inside me.”

The brown mouse uttered a punchy “Hmph!” as she turned around and put her hand back on the doorknob. A good walk would clear her head, she knew.

“Ladies, please! I can handle both of you at once. It won’t be any trouble at all. Nora, lay on your back in the middle of the bed. Azahar, lie behind her head with your legs spread. I’ll eat you out while you wait your turn.”

The rodents put themselves in the specified positions, and Anaxarco hopped onto Nora. He drilled deep down into her pussy without delay, stuffing Azahar’s crotch into his maw at the same time. He held her hips still with his teeth and hands, feeling her tense up in fear as one does in a predator’s mouth. She knew she was playing with danger, but it was too late to escape if the wolf really did decide to eat her. His tongue reached deep into her reproductive system, skillfully kneading her insides while she squeaked in delight. He swirled it around, tasting every inch of her vaginal walls before moving into her cervical canal, and teasing the front of her uterus. The male’s great muscle twisted, bent, extended, and retracted unpredictably, extracting the mouse’s taste intentionally and masterfully. He could probably lift her off the ground with his tongue alone, if he really wanted to. It rubbed her vagina with such force that she had to bite her lip to avoid scaring the neighbors. He did not neglect Nora either, smothering her face with his massive pectorals and squishing her tits beneath his upper abs as he wrecked her cunt with his throbbing three-inch-thick cock. His thick black fur muffled her thirsty howling while she inhaled his sweaty musk gratefully yet involuntarily. He made sure to give her enough air to stay conscious, but not enough to think straight, or to feel safe or free; she was perfectly dominated, and she knew it. She, too, was uncertain about whether she was bound to be wolf chow; she could hear the acids sloshing in his empty belly as his hips rose and fell above her precum-flooded twat. She rubbed his abs rhythmically, almost as enthralled by his rock-hard midsection as by his male member. That durable stalk penetrated her far deeper than anything else ever had, stretching her limits as far as the laws of biology allowed. She felt as if she were on a skewer, and the thickness of his log left her a noticeable bulge on her tummy. She tried not to imagine how badly it would hurt when he knotted. Fortunately, it never came to that. His huge rod brought her to maximum arousal in minutes. He could tell by her (attempted) hyperventilation that she was about to blow, so he wound up for what he knew would be the final jab. He lifted his shaft up high, almost pulling it all the way out, and slammed all his length back into her without holding back.

SHWHACK!

He finished Nora off with a deep, hard thrust, making her scream at the top of her lungs in pleasure before he pulled out and pushed her quivering body off the bed. He took his tongue out of Azahar and yanked her into the center of the bed by the waist. He plunged his cum-drenched cock into her cunt with stunning force, knocking a girlish Aanh~ out of her with the first buck of his hips. He neither slowed down nor eased up, delivering blow after blow to her pussy without giving her time to recover. An explosive Schlack reverberated through the room after each one, loud as a thunderclap; every thump and moan was a testament to the almost bone-shattering impact of his pounds. He would have broken the bed in half if he hit her much harder. Her narrow, fatless frame sunk deep into the mattress when he bore down on her, unable to resist the indescribable weight of his slams. His length, too, astounded Azahar; he dug his cock to the very back of her hole, breaking into her womb anew and hitting the far end of it with his every strike. She was afraid it would burst right through her back like a sword. Experienced as she was with large men, she was unable to hold back her starstruck cries. She knew she would not last long under his brutal treatment. She did not even try to assert any semblance of control over the situation; Anaxarco neither wanted nor needed her guidance, clearly. All she could do was lay still and enjoy the overpowering sensation of his iron cock violently rubbing the walls of her stretched vagina as it burned from the friction and ached from his immense girth. 

Nora, all the while, had her face buried between his asscheeks and her tongue in his rectum. When she first shoved it in, Anaxarco released an appreciative grunt, having assumed she would be too tired to keep playing. He loved the way her dextrous tongue felt on his anal ring; he could not stop himself from exhaling a huff of pleasure every time she drove it in. She explored the dark chamber with infinite fascination, diligently licking the walls and whatever else she could find. Then, she struck gold: the unmistakable flavor of dog plop hit the tip of her tongue, and it was wonderful. As she dug deeper into the tender log, she felt fragments of bone in his bitter dung. After further searching, she discovered the skeletal remains of an entire arm. Her eyes widened in lustful horror as she lapped up the creamy shit clumped around the bones. That he swallowed and digested other anthros was no longer a fantasy, but a cold, hard, sexy reality. She leaned into him harder, motivated by the fear of being melted into rabbit stew to fuel his tremendous bulk if she should disappoint him. The threat itself aroused her further, sending her into an uncontrollable spiral of increasing horniness. Her redoubled urgency caused his tail to wag cheerfully. To reward the bunny for her A-grade service, he pushed more shit to the back of his colon for her to eat. His cornhole gaped wide for a few seconds when he let out a rancid FRAAAAAAAAAAAAP directly into her face. The hot gas rushed into her eyes, nose, and mouth before she could close any of them. Tears streamed from her irritated eyes, which stung badly from the putrid vapor. Its mephitic stench complemented the strong taste of his colon. A metallic tang tainted his muck, owing to the blood that his prey shed in his belly. Nora had eaten the shit of dozens of dudes, but none of their flavors could hold a candle to predator crap. The stink of death rose from his backdoor, incessantly reminding her of the male’s carnivorous diet. She shoveled yet more of the deliciously painful gunk into her greedy mouth, emptying out his bowels one lick at a time. He could hear her swallowing down his manure in cute little gulps, though she struggled to do so without a drink.

“Hold on, Azahar, I’ll get back to you in a moment.”

Anaxarco pulled his boner out of the mouse and jammed it into Nora’s mouth.

“Here, lemme help you wash that down.”

His erect cock pumped a torrent of urine directly down the rabbit’s throat, pushing his sticky filth down the walls of her esophagus and into her stomach. When he ran out of piss, he plunged his wood back into Azahar. Nora, in turn, put her tongue back in his ass to extract more pudding. She stuffed her cheeks with brown batter and chewed; the wolf pumped more scat between her lips whenever she gave him a lick. Down below, the mouse was having the time of her life, too. She also happened to like the smell of wolf excrement, especially when said wolf was busy pounding her flat with what felt like the force of a hundred meteors. A horrendous burning afflicted her front tunnel, owing to the sustained abrasion of its walls by Anaxarco’s adamantine tool. The fat, veiny slab of meat would not have fit if it were any wider, yet Anaxarco ran it through her as if there were no resistance at all.

“Unf!”

Kicking into high gear, the wolf put even more power into each of his thrusts, pounding his stiff shaft into Azahar’s pussy thrice per second. He sustained this pace for 45 minutes, far longer than he ever had to before. But he still had plenty of energy when he felt the mouse near the verge of climax. She shivered visibly as her breathing and heartbeat accelerated beyond their previous records, prompting her mate to come down upon her as hard and fast as he could. He threw his cock into Azahar with a grunt of effort, smashing it through the overstretched mouse at lightning speed. 

“Hnah!”

Azahar let out a brief moan with the little breath she had in her lungs as her juices erupted from her cunt, spattering thick cum all over Anaxarco’s belly, balls, and thighs. He rolled off of her tough, lean frame, which was still immobile from being crushed so relentlessly under his titanic body. He lay beside her on his back for a few minutes, panting deeply as he recovered from his intense exertion. He then licked her cream from her clit and from his dick. He stood up, dried off his johnson using a shirt lying by the bed, and left the room. He took the girls’ bedsheets with him and fashioned them into a rope so Fer could climb back out of the chimney when he was done stealing the bread. 

“All done?” he asked Fer, who was leaning against the wall and picking rat fur from between his teeth in satisfied boredom. His tummy had finally returned to a reasonable size; not quite flat, but not big or heavy enough to be inconvenient at all.

“All done,” responded the fox with a nod, patting his gut proudly. 

Anaxarco opened the window, jumped to the tree branch, and climbed to the warehouse roof. Fer followed close behind. He mounted atop the chimney and put his legs inside. He shimmied as deep as he could, but his hips got stuck partway through.

“Uh, little help?”

Anaxarco placed his hands on Fer’s shoulders and pushed down with all his might. The walls of the concrete pipe scraped painfully against his sides, but he managed to slip through without so much as a yelp. He landed on his feet and started taking bread from the shelves immediately, throwing loaves up through the chimney as quickly and quietly as he could. The one guard patrolling the inside of the shed (a lean german shepherd in his early twenties, fairly muscular and of average height) turned into the aisle. He and Fer stared awkwardly at one another for a full second before the guard raised his rifle. Fer dove into one of the shelves and tumbled through to the other side, knocking a stack of buns to the floor as a shower of bullets whizzed by his paws. The guard sprayed the loaves with an uncontrolled salvo of lead, peering over them an effort to track his target. In return, Fer kicked over some of the shelves, hoping to pin the gunman under one of them or at least inhibit his pursuit. The well-trained warrior was always able to hop out of the way in time, to Fer’s absolute chagrin. Canuto the Capybara, who was the only other person in the building, decided to make things a bit more interesting by turning off the lights. Fer hid under a pile of upset bread, saved by the cover of darkness but trapped nonetheless. By then, the sound of gunfire and falling shelves had alerted the guards outside the building. The front and back doors opened simultaneously; six soldiers burst through the main shutter at once. Two kneeled at the back entrance, aiming into the warehouse to make sure nobody could escape that way. Anaxarco, seeing an opportunity to bail his friend out, swiped the ax from Azahar’s apartment and hopped back onto the roof. He jumped off behind the men at the back, decapitating them both with two good swings before they had the chance to turn around. Fer bolted for the door, successfully escaping the building without being spotted. The sound of boots and approaching sirens closed in on the criminals from every side. There was nowhere to run, but there was indeed somewhere to hide: a container truck was parked at the back of the storage shed, carrying many large crates of baked goods. Fer jumped into one and buried himself in grain products after picking up an AK from one of the dead guys. Anaxarco did the same, closing the back of the truck behind him. The boys sat silently in their crates for what felt like hours, listening to the sound of guards searching fruitlessly for them in the distribution center. Finally, the truck started moving, though neither dog could figure out where it was headed.

_________________________________________________________________

“Your order has arrived, Ms. Martinez, where do you want it?”

“Take two crates to the cellar and leave the rest in the garage, thank you.”

The boys recognized the voice of the lioness from the bread line. Six men picked up Fer’s crate and took it inside. Soon, he heard a second crate drop beside him with a woody thunk. Fer waited a few minutes after the laborers had left before peeking from the crate, just to be safe.

“The coast is clear,” he whispered, “you can come out now.”

Anaxarco rose from the buns, stretching and yawning with only his chest and head sticking out of the crate. It felt good to stand after being scrunched up in an uncomfortable position for so long. The lads then entered an idiotic staring contest, each hoping that the other had some sort of master plan to get out of the lioness’ house alive.

Anaxarco thought of something first: “Before anything else, we’re going to have to find a window or something, just to get an idea of where we are. Then, we can figure out how to escape for real.”

Fer nodded and peered under the cellar door. Nobody was standing outside, as far as he could tell. He opened the door cautiously and motioned for Anaxarco to follow him. The stairwell was empty, so the two amigos tiptoed all the way up to the third floor unnoticed. But as soon as they reached the top step, the door to the third floor hallway opened. On the other side stood Ms. Martinez. Before she could scream, Anaxarco grabbed her snout and tackled her into the bedroom. Fer locked the door behind them. Thankfully, nobody else witnessed the incident. Her razor-sharp claws extended out of her paws, forcing Anaxarco to let go of her mouth and hold down her arms. A millisecond of panicked screaming escaped her yap before he silenced her once again, plunging her head into his maw with a slobbery GLOMPH and locking his lips around her neck. Fer broke all her fingers with the butt of his rifle to stop her from cutting her way out of Anaxarco’s belly, and then he held her legs down so she could be more easily swallowed.

SLRK!

Anaxarco sucked her snout into his throat, squeezing her shoulders through his jaws with some difficulty. Fer tore off her shirt and bra, allowing his accomplice to savor the meaty taste of his prey’s juicy tits. He worked his tongue over and between the heavy sacks, giving them a slight nibble just to tease the feline. She shouted as loud as she could, but his body muffled her pleas for help so that only quiet, unintelligible grunts escaped his chest.

GLRK!

He managed to swallow her shoulders down with a little help from Fer, who gave her a strong shove as the wolf pulled her further down his throat. Her breasts were now fully crammed inside his mouth, utterly soaked in his saliva. The pressure of his jaws squished them hard, almost to the point of bursting. Once Anaxarco finished playing with them, he sent those well-lubricated jugs through his gullet with a forceful ULP. 

As Anaxarco’s spit dribbled onto the lioness’ flat tummy from his shining canine teeth, Fer pulled her skirt and panties off of her kicking legs. After taking the time to enjoy its salty flavor, Anaxarco slurped up her belly with relative ease. Her head pushed through the bottom of his esophagus and into his stomach. The sour stench of it made her gag, and the burbling of his acids was positively deafening. Her nose hung a fraction of an inch above them; droplets of the sizzling fluid jumped from the larger pool and stung her face like hornets.

GULP!

He took her thighs between his teeth, squishing her ass with the roof of his mouth and violating her delicious clit with his fat, slimy tongue for domination’s sake. When he was done, he glanced at Fer, who got the message and slammed his shoulder into Ms. Martinez’s tush with all the strength he could muster.

GLUNK!

Having packed away her fattest part securely in his belly, Anaxarco swallowed her knees, calves, and feet in a series of grotesque SCHLRKs and SHLRPs until her whole body was crammed inside.

“It’s been -huff- ages since I’ve eaten live prey. God, I didn’t know how much I fucking needed this.”

URRRRRRRRRRRRRRRP!

He wiped the slobber and regurgitated fur off his grinning lips with one muscular arm, massaging his gut with the other.

“The faster I digest this bitch, the sooner we can get out of here. If you rubbed my belly it would probably speed things up a ton. Plus, it’d feel amazing. URP.“ 

He rested his back against a stack of pillows, closing his eyes and releasing a sigh of comfort as his roommate put his paws on his tummy. His prey struggled weakly against the confines of his tummy, deprived of the space necessary to kick or punch properly. She pressed as hard as she could at the walls of his stomach, but he was simply too strong for her. Rather than giving him a tummyache, her resistance satisfied him like a good massage. Her faint groaning served as mere entertainment for the guys, who were happy to feel her movements weakening as she slowly died in the bigger man’s stomach. She shrunk and softened in the oppressive heat of the awful chamber, losing a greater share of her flesh and hope with every passing minute. Her skin felt as if she were immersed in boiling oil, and when it was all melted away, the pain only became worse. She was spared further torture when she ran out of oxygen and passed out, about five minutes after being swallowed. 

“BLEEEEEEEEEEEECH. There she goes,” said Anaxarco, quite pleased with himself for killing his prey so quickly without using his teeth. 

Fer kept kneading her carcass enthusiastically, pressing deep into the softening mass with both his hands. He rubbed the acid into her muscles, which soon flowed off of her skeleton as viscous ooze. The fluid worked its way between her bones, severing their connections and causing them to come apart. Her internal organs liquefied within a few more minutes, lacking their usual protection of skin, fat, and muscle. Muffled cracks echoed through the chyme as the pressure of Fer’s paws, in conjunction with the contraction of Anaxarco’s abs, snapped her bones into smaller pieces. The marrow poured out of them, further thickening the lioness soup and coloring it a deeper shade of red. He basked in the sound of her molten remains draining into his lower guts, lulled into a state of unbreakable bliss by the glorps and gwrrrrns coming from his distended paunch. Fer pressed his ear into the squishy orb, driven to disbelief by the staggering efficiency of his roommate's digestive system. His gut shrunk as his meal flowed through his intestines slowly, releasing a quiet slrsh whenever he made the slightest movement. Only a small potbelly remained as evidence of his crime, but after five more minutes, even that was gone. Anaxarco’s abs were plainly visible again, and his stomach did not extend beyond his chest at all.

“Hrnh!”

The wolf stood up suddenly, inadvertently knocking Fer to the ground when he stumbled for the on-suite bathroom. He did not have enough time to lock the door; a thick beam of shit blasted from his anus before his buttcheeks hit the toilet seat. The entire toilet bowl was filled up in seconds. Anaxarco left a streak of shit on the wall when he pivoted 180 degrees to aim the stream of tawny batter into the bathtub. He felt himself getting lighter as it left his body all at once, splattering against the side of the tub and sliding sluggishly to the bottom. Log after thick brown log piled up by the drain, filling the room with the intolerable smell of fresh crap. After a minute straight of pumping, his bowels were finally void. He took a few squares of toilet paper and wiped the last of the muck from his asshole, happy to be rid of the feline at last. Clean and dry, he left the bathroom and surveyed the parking area through the window, as was originally planned. The only thing of interest was the tank parked alongside the trucks, sent with the convoy in case anybody tried to rob it on the road. The driver sat half-naked on the rim of the open hatch, enjoying the taste of fresh air after being cooped up in his stuffy vehicle for so long. Nobody else was in the vicinity, so Anaxarco thought it would be best to steal it right away, before potential witnesses could arrive.

“That’s our way out,” he said as he pointed the tank out to Fer, “Unless we’re forgetting something, we should take it now.”

“Let’s go,” replied the fox, sliding open the window and climbing onto the roof. Anaxarco jumped on the tank’s roof, pulled the driver inside, and beat him into submission. The gunner reached for his sidearm, but he had to put his hands in the air when Fer dropped in with his weapon drawn.

“Drive west,” Anaxarco growled to the terrified sheepdog as he pressed his rifle into the side of his head, “Don’t stop until we reach the border.”

The tankist complied, accelerating to full speed without a word of protest. Captor and captive both sat silently as they pursued the setting sun, cruising through the dry scrubland until the silhouette of a great stone wall rose from the horizon. Exhilaration rose in the hearts of Fer and Anaxarco; a few little pebbles were all that stood between them and liberty. They drooled at the thought of rediscovering the sort of sprawling marketplaces they had scampered through as boys, alive with the aroma of fresh fruit, the hopeful looks of energetic shoeshine lads, and the loud haggling between buyers and sellers. They snapped back to reality when the men at the nearby watchtower radioed in to ask who they were. All the guards got in response was a well-aimed 115mm high-explosive shell, which blew the top of their tower to smithereens. Another shot broke a hole in the wall beside it, and in a few more seconds, the fox and wolf were through. The faint red glow of the watchtower’s flaming wreckage soon disappeared from the tank’s armored exterior as it delved into the wilderness of a free nation, where men were allowed to make the most of their lives while they lasted, and their corpses were to be buried instead of eaten afterwards.