Rick and the lemur
By Strega

It was a nice little old lady who got the lemur eaten.  Not because she accused him of anything, mind you. The two never even met. No, all she did was make Rick a little less trusting.

Ranger Rick was a popular raccoon.  Five feet tall, bright blue eyes, delicate but strong and skillful hands, ringed tail and bandit-mask and cheek-ruffs, he was cute from fuzzy head to clawed toe and his ranger uniform, complete with broad-brimmed hat with holes for his ears, somehow only made him cuter.  He was the only anthro-raccoon most human women ever met and it was inevitable they'd get curious, sometimes with the help of a drink or two around their campfires.  At least once a week a college student or blue-haired retiree lady or something in between would invite him into their tent or camper or follow him back to his own little cabin. Rick was used to it and it kept him a very happy raccoon.

His boss Smokey had some bad experiences when a woman had after-the-fact qualms about being wrapped around a bear's waist like a seat belt, and so they had hidden cameras in their cabins and were careful to record at least audio on their phones if they weren't at home when "it" happened.

But one little old lady who invited Rick into her camper was more than she seemed. It wasn't the first vigorous sixty-something he'd ended up in bed with, yet afterwards he realized he should have been suspicious when she insisted he finish on her face or back or belly each time rather than inside. It had seemed like something from a cheap porno flick because that's exactly what it was.

Rick was a young and healthy raccoon with perfectly natural urges and didn't ask awkward questions. After that long night of exploring her various orifices  he went back to his cabin sated and happy.  A week later another retiree lady - one who stopped by the campground a couple of times a year and who you might say had a taste for raccoon meat - called and made him less happy.

"That's the nice little old lady you were talking about?" Smokey growled as he watched the monitor screen over Rick's shoulder.

"Nice little old ladies can like anal!" Rick protested. The video had been shot in an RV bathroom and featured Rick, the bent-over little old lady and nothing as distracting as clothes. There was just fur and skin, Rick's rhythmic churring, moans and sloppy sex sounds recorded in wonderful fidelity.

"Yeah, but they don't usually have their own porn site," the bear growled, and Rick sighed. There must have been a dozen cameras hidden in that RV and thanks to his retiree friend's password they could view the moist details of every encounter.

"Well, damn," Rick chittered.  "I guess it's too late to try to get the videos taken down."

Smokey growled.  "You can't put toothpaste back in the tube."

Rick watched watery raccoon cum drip down the little old lady's butt cheeks on the screen and sighed again. "Or put that back in my dick."

That is how Rick developed a keen interest in cameras and spying.  There was ample material online about the subject and his duties around the campground, not to mention his visits to various ladies' tents and campers gave him plenty of opportunities to decide where he'd put a camera if he were in charge.  Pretty soon he spotted one, and after that he invited them back to his cabin. Sometimes they refused to go home with him but he shrugged that off. He'd been burned once and the forest service wasn't especially happy about the publicity. 

He also spent a few days switching their own cabin cameras from wireless to wired lest someone leech the signal and upload Anal Bear On Hot Camper Girls or Cute Raccoon On Horny Grandma Volume 2 and because of that, wiring and cameras were still on his mind when one of the guest cabins burned down.

It happened in the middle of the night and they were extremely lucky the campers in it were young.  They often had people past 80 in the cabins and only youth and speed had gotten the campers out before smoke filled the place.  The cabins were old and their lumber dry and by the time they got the fire pump set up the place was a total loss. The only good news was that no one was hurt and it was just the one cabin.

Rick was poking through the ashes the next day, looking for hotspots and anything that might have survived the fire when he spotted a charred metal box no bigger than Smokey's fist.  He pried the scorched box open just to make sure it wasn't some camper's portable safe and found the remains of a wireless router and a memory stick wired together into some sort of jury-rigged recording system.

It was all fried, naturally, but Rick knew darned well that there should be no such thing there. He'd crawled around the cabin attics installing the Wi-Fi himself and he knew this wasn't anything to do with that setup.

The tenants in the other cabins were more than happy to let him go in and "check the smoke detectors" and he wasn't surprised when he found two more boxes like the fried one, but, oddly, no cameras. These two were wired into the cabin power.  It wasn't done very professionally and now he realized that the fire at the cabin had started at or near the box.

Even without cameras, someone was recording something and a router meant they would have to come by to download it.   Sure enough, on only the second night of staking the place out Smokey's heavy paw fell on the shoulder of a lemur-man as he lurked in the trees near the cabins.

The lemur nearly leapt out of his furry skin and his ringed tail lashed in agitation as they frog-marched him back to the ranger cabins.

"So," Smokey growled.  "It's rare to see another anthro here.  I'd ask you to shake hands, but..."  The lemur at that point was stripped and tied to a chair.

"I didn't do anything," whined the lemur, who tugged halfheartedly at the bindings. He was a little primate, smaller even than Rick, and he must know it was hopeless to break free with a five hundred pound bear-man in the room.

"Actually," chittered Rick, who'd just come back in with an armload of electronics, "You did quite a lot."

"You can't have that!", protested the lemur, who somewhat resembled a pale-furred Rick with a longer tail, "That was in my tent! You couldn't get a warrant that fast."

"Probable cause," said Rick with a smile.  "And you are on Federal land.  You didn't think of that, did you?"

The lemur just squirmed in the chair as Rick set up the laptop he'd found.  "And you didn't even password protect this.  Tsk." The raccoon chittered under his breath as he typed.  Claws clicked on keys and soon he spun the laptop around to show to Smokey.

"So it wasn't cameras," the raccoon chittered.  "It was a Wi-Fi sniffer. Which you were using to steal names, passwords, credit card data...and not just here.  There must be a hundred people's data in just this one file."

"So what," the lemur squeaked.  "Call the cops.  I'll do my time.  Wouldn't be the first time either."

Smokey and Rick shared a smile, because for all his bold front the lemur looked nervous.  Panicked, even. He knew the reputation this campground had and why it had so few repeat offenders. 

"Oh, but Rick's been in a really bad mood lately," Smokey growled.  "And you're just the thing to cheer him up."

"I've wanted to try this for ages," Rick chittered as he stepped closer to the chair.  The lemur watched in some confusion as he took off his hat and unbuttoned his ranger shirt.  "But we never get firebugs your size.  Except for kids, and I won't eat those."

"Eat?!", squeaked the lemur.  "All I did was steal some credit card numbers!"
"And burn down a cabin," Smokey growled as Rick leaned forward.  "Almost killed some people.  You know what I say, only you can prevent forest fires.  In this case, by being too digested to start another one."

"But I didn't-", the lemur began, but Rick's muzzle jerked forward and cut him off. The lemur had been too distracted by the conversation to pay attention to the raccoon face so close to his own and as his muzzle momentarily closed the raccoon's jaws clamped tight around it.  Terrified eyes rolled on either side of Rick's nose as the raccoon gripped the lemur's nape with both hands and tugged.  With a pop the raccoon's jaws unhinged and slipped forward.  The lemur's frightened eyes were visible for one moment more as Rick's jaws advanced but then were gone into the raccoon's bulging cheeks.

The primate's long narrow skull was similar to Rick's and his nose was down the raccoon's throat by the time Rick swallowed his ears. They had flattened back against the lemur's skull as he realized he was about to be eaten and they slipped neatly beneath Rick's thin black lips as the raccoon's nose reached the lemur's nape. Rick leaned forward, his jaws sliding easily over the lemur's slender neck until they reached the first real obstacle.  Small as the lemur was the shoulders were a formidable challenge and Rick grunted as he rocked his muzzle from side to side, struggling to stretch his maw over the lemur's widest point.

Smokey grinned as the primate's tail fluffed out thick as its thigh.  It was the only part of the lemur not restrained by handmade (and digestible) rawhide strips and it lashed from side to side.  It was also partially prehensile and eventually wrapped around Rick's leg in an effort to keep its owner from disappearing down a raccoon gullet. Rick ignored it and continued to try to work his way past the shoulders.

Smokey could have told Rick the best way to go about swallowing a really big meal. He'd once swallowed a black bear two thirds his size and more than one beefy human troublemaker had ended up as winter fat on his bulky frame. The shoulders were always a huge challenge and he wanted to let Rick figure it out for himself.  He said nothing as the raccoon's jaws ran up against the seemingly insurmountable barrier. It stymied Rick for long seconds and the horrified lemur did his best to pull his head out of the slimy raccoon gullet.  Unable to climb out of the chair he could only pull back so much and Rick followed along, still struggling to continue his meal.

Rick was a smart coonie, though. After just a few seconds of struggle he realized that the shoulders were just too wide to fit into his cheeks.  He paused to suck in a labored breath through a full throat before stepping to the side.  He had reasoned out that Smokey didn't sometimes turn people up onto one shoulder as he swallowed just for fun.  His own jaws were too narrow to fit over the shoulders when they were sideways to his face, but he soon established that he could work his lower jaw over one shoulder and his nose over the other.

The smell of fear was strong in the air as the lemur's upper arms disappeared into Rick's jaws.  Every muscle in the little primate's body was rigid as he tried to break his bonds, but rawhide had held stronger men than him still.  Bit by bit Rick's neck swelled, its soft gray fur spreading until the pink skin showed. He was past the broadest part of his meal and it was just a question now of whether the entire thing would fit down his throat. 

Rick was kneeling next to the chair now, his jaws stretched around the lemur's elbows.  It was time to cut the first of the leather strips binding the lemur to the chair and Smokey did just that. The primate tried to lurch upright as his upper body was freed but his legs were still tied to the chair legs and his hands behind himself.  All he managed to do was jam himself hard into Rick's gullet and the raccoon instinctively grabbed lemur ass with both hands, tugging with all his might as he swallowed.

The sudden change in center of gravity unbalanced the two and Smokey had to grab them as they toppled over.  He eased Rick onto the floor, knowing the half swallowed lemur's weight might hurt his friend. The lemur he cared less about and only softened the primate's fall as a side effect of helping his friend.  A few bruises here or there were the least of the problems for a troublemaker about to take a trip through a raccoon's digestive tract. The chair went over on its side too, pulled by the leather straps binding the lemur to its legs, but it was a simple matter to guide it so it didn't come down on Rick's ringed tail.

With a smothered growl - a rare sound from Rick and one that made Smokey smile - the raccoon pulled himself over the lemur's hips. He was lying next to the overturned chair with a kicking lemur protruding from his gaping jaws and he'd swallowed all he could without taking the chair as well.

The lemur's arms were trapped against his sides by Rick's cheeks and throat as Smokey cut the remaining straps that connected the lemur to the chair. The ones ones left tied the primate's wrists and ankles together.  Rick's stomach would have to figure out what to do with those but they would be no harder to digest than the rest of his meal or the rabbits he'd occasionally swallowed whole. Smokey had settled on leather straps for a reason after zip ties, belt buckles and other indigestibles had passed entirely through him.

The first set of  straps disappeared as Rick stuffed the lemur's rump into his jaws. With the hips swallowed the primate couldn't kick Rick but he could still thrash like a netted fish and Rick jerked on the plank floor as he worked his jaws over the lemur's thighs.

The raccoon's chest creaked and swelled unnaturally as more of the lemur slipped into his stomach.  There was a rasping quality to the raccoon's breathing as he sucked air past the enormous obstruction in his throat and Smokey began to doubt Rick would be able to finish.  He'd never swallowed something as close to his size as Rick's lemur meal but they'd never had a troublemaker this small before. Even the average adult woman was bigger than Rick and unless Rick swallowed one of the nastier kids that to visit the campground it was the best chance he'd likely get. He stood ready to grab the lemur's feet and pull him back out if it got stuck halfway down but let the raccoon proceed if he could.

Rick had long wanted to see what it was like to swallow someone and he wasn't about to give up. Saliva dripped from his jaws, drooling down the pale lemur fur and lubricating it for easier swallowing, and bit by bit Rick managed to work his way to the lemur's knees.  His swollen belly lurched and bulged as the primate struggled, and there was so little flesh and fur between the lemur and daylight that the shape of a shoulder and face pushed out like a grotesque carving. The lemur very badly wanted to be someplace besides a raccoon's stomach but Rick wanted him in there even more.  The little raccoon, not even a quarter of Smokey's weight, managed to roll over atop his bloated belly. Slowly he pushed his jaws toward the floor and with the soles of the lemur's feet wedged against the floorboard there was nowhere for the primate's calves to go but down the raccoon's throat.

Rick's belly was so distended he lay draped over its bulges as he lifted his head, a black-padded foot hanging down on either side of a fluffed-out lemur tail. Rick pressed his hands against his belly for leverage and stretched out his muzzle, first failing and then on a second try succeeding in getting the kicking feet to slip into his gullet. There as a last glimpse of pale-furred toes and their leathery pads before his jaws shut, and the bulges in his neck changed shape and slipped downward as he struggled to swallow. With a great pained-sounding gulp the toes were gone, and then another sent their shapes slipping down the curve of his neck.  The third time he swallowed his narrow neck was back nearly to its normal thickness, and Smokey watched with admiration as the enormous bulge in Rick's midsection swelled still more. Even the raccoon's breathing eased as he forced the lemur out of his throat and into his stomach.

But there was still the tail to deal with, a tail nearly as long as the raccoon was tall.  It was all bristling, fluffed-out fur as ringed as Rick's own, and each gulp sucked a little more of it into the raccoon's jaws. For all its apparent bulk the spine within it was no thicker than Rick's own wrist and it was only the dry rustling fur that gave the raccoon any difficulty. It was hard to wet it for swallowing and Rick coughed and nearly gagged as the ticklish mass of it moved down his throat.

He had gotten his far and he was stubbornly intent on finishing his meal despite the discomfort.  Over the course of minutes he slowly swallowed the tail, each ring of black fur following one of white down his throat. The fur bristled stubbornly from his jaws as though trying to escape but the undulations of the raccoon's throat gradually pulled it in nevertheless. Slowly the tail was sucked out of sight, each gulp pulling a little more of it in despite its efforts to squirm free. Finally the raccoon's narrow jaws closed, the black fur of the tail tip peeking out past his lips, and with a last gulp the final traces of the lemur disappeared.
"I wasn't sure you could manage that," Smokey growled with a smile. He watched as the groaning raccoon tried to get used to the enormous and still wriggling bulge in his middle. Rick struggled to sit up and Smokey waved him back down.

"Not yet," the bear growled.  "It's hard enough when they aren't moving.  I've never eaten anyone as big compared to me as he was to you!  You started big."

Rick grunted, pushing at his belly to muffle the struggle within before letting out a long, high-pitched belch. Eventually, as the struggle weakened, he managed to sit up. There was no question of him managing to stand: the bulk of swallowed lemur loomed in front of him, his belly stretched so thin his normally all-concealing fur was more like peach fuzz atop thin pink skin. He would need a walker to stay upright with all that hanging out, or a wheelbarrow.

"I wasn't sure either," he chittered, and burped again. For the first time he looked, if not guilty, perhaps a bit afraid.  "How am I going to digest all this? He's," he hiccuped, "Almost as big as I am."

"Slowly," Smokey said, and his huge paws slipped under Rick and lifted.  The raccoon was so gorged he had to be handled like an overripe fruit lest an overstretched rib snap or even worse injury occur. Only the mutation he shared with Smokey and a rare few other creatures allowed his organs to push out of the way of the vast meal in his gut. The lemur was almost still now, just the occasional twitch betraying life, or the departure of it.  It would have been easy for Rick to disgorge him almost to the last, but now he lay curled up in the raccoon's stomach. Even if Rick wanted to retch him up now the odds were it would be impossible. The lemur would only get out of there the way any other food might, via the process of digestion, and by then he wouldn't look much like a lemur at all.

"Ouch.  Careful," Rick groaned, and Smokey carried him with delicately into the next room. He couldn't carry Rick to his own cabin lest someone see the state the raccoon was in, but the little roll-away bed he kept here for guests would serve well enough.

There was a last twitch beneath thinly stretched fur as the lemur succumbed to heat, lack of air, and the slow process of digestion.  Smokey had never eaten anything so large compared to himself but he'd come close. Assuming things went the way it did for him it would take Rick several days to digest the lemur.  The slim little raccoon wouldn't be so slim with ten or twenty pounds of new fat. He took up more of the bed than he normally would, but it was sized for a human and even full of lemur he wasn't much bigger than one of those.

"And this is why we have indoor plumbing," Smokey said with a grin, but Rick was already asleep. Swallowing such a huge meal was exhausting and digesting it just as hard.  The great swell of belly gurgled and sloshed as all the raccoon's resources were turned toward processing a hundred pounds of lemur into useful nutrients, fat and waste. There was nothing left over for anything as trivial as consciousness. Rick instinctively tried to curl up in a ball as he slept, only making it halfway due to his swollen belly.  Smokey smiled, tugged a blanket over the swollen pink belly lest the raccoon catch a chill, and turned off the light as he left.

Two days later Smokey woke in his room to the sound of someone gagging outside the window.  Thinking it some drunk camper and ready to give that wight a piece of his mind he sat up in bed only to find the person in question was Rick.

It took the raccoon a minute of heaving to get it all up.  "It" turned out to be gray, black and white fur not too far off in color from his own. The fibrous nature of the thing kept it together in one piece and it came out squeezed into a football-sized tapered mass by the raccoon's stomach and throat.  With a last hack the slimy thing plopped to the ground, leaving Rick to stare at it morbidly. 
 
Chalky white encrustations of mostly digested bone protruded from the bile-scented fur.  In two days the raccoon's stomach had reduced a hundred-pound lemur to this soggy mass of hair and whatever he'd left behind in the dozen or so bathroom visits since he ate.

"Quite a hairball," Smokey growled. "At least there were no clothes to cough up. I got a nasty scratch in my throat from a zipper once."

Rick sighed and reached for a shovel.  In a moment he had the thing in a plastic grocery bag for transport to one of the dumpsters a little way down the campground. Even after rinsing his mouth, though, the raccoon's ears still drooped.

"If you hadn't eaten him, I would have," Smokey growled. A meal that size would hardly have been noticeable on his seven foot, five hundred pound anthro-grizzly frame, but though the huge lump in Rick's middle was nearly gone, the raccoon's uniform was a lot tighter now than it had been a few days before. You put on some fat when you ate someone as big as yourself.   

Rick shrugged.  "I guess I'll get used to it.  Never done it before, is all." Eventually he smiled.  "Not many small enough for me to swallow, you know."

Smokey grinned and clapped the little raccoon on the back.  "We'll keep an eye out for another. More than one person has said you'd make a good fur coat.  Maybe we'll luck out and the next person that says that is small enough for you to grant their request...just not the way they expect."