Some are just hungry  

by Strega

Story Copyright (C) By: Strega
2000 - All rights reserved.

Story not to be reprinted, or redistributed, 
without author's Permission.

If you wish to use the stories, or 
anything copyright by me, please e-mail me.
I'll also forward any mail to the author.


Some are just hungry

Strega padded into the Nexus, nodding to the furs there, and at once found one that aroused her interest. This one was just over six feet tall, bipedal, stocky, and wearing a pair of loose black shorts that extended to his knees. Short, spade-like longfurred tail, blunt muzzle with low-set ears, brown/black fur with a cinnamon-colored stripe along his sides and like-colored 'sideburns'…yes, definitely a wolverine. She saw far too few of those, and she admired his huge long-clawed snowshoe paws, the muscles that shifted beneath his thick fur as he moved; he was powerful, almost frightening, and she studied him, thinking her own thoughts.
Raun noticed her the moment she entered. She was not pretty, not in a feminine sense, but rather handsome in a sleek, bestial way. A low-slung, black-furred weasel-like creature, padding about on six paws even bigger than his, her glossy-black eyes highlighted by the mask of white fur around them, a mask that extended back to join the pattern of curved white stripes on her back. A harness of sorts extended from her neck to middle legs, little, gemlike objects attached. Long, white whiskers twitched upward…a smile?…as she met his look.
The wolverine was eyeing her with casual interest. She thought for a moment; wolverines were so rare on this world that she had met only perhaps a dozen, and those had been…unavailable for various reasons. She spared a moment to look at the other furs in the octagonal room; two were arguing, two were dozing, one staring at the window in the ceiling. And then back to the wolverine, still looking at her with a half-smile on his muzzle.
Raun smiled as the weaselly creature padded over to him. Her movements were lithe, naturally smooth and powerful, her build reminding him more of a stretched wolverine now that he looked again. Even her blunt muzzle…she stopped a couple of yards away, and nodded to him politely. "Good evening, stranger. I'm Strega." Her voice was a hiss, like escaping steam.
Raun smiled broadly, not worrying about exposing a fang or two with this one. "Raun. You are a sight…I don't think I have ever seen your species before." His voice contrasted hers, a deep basso profundo rumble.
Strega flicked her whiskers upward, then forward to express interest. "I'm a falan. There are only a couple of us here. You're a wolverine, right? You are almost as rare as we are."
Raun stepped forward, unable to resist the urge to touch her. She didn't flinch as he stroked his handpaw down her neck, rather arching to press into the contact. "We're pretty rare."
Strega turned her head, pink nosepad (the only bit of color on her, now that the wolverine thought about it), and sniffed his hand. Dark, deep musk, his oily fur and scent-glands each having their own scent; the wolverine, while clean, was not so fastidious as to use scented shampoo or such drek. "You are indeed. I am a curious fur." She looked at the idle nexus inhabitants, one or two of whom were beginning to pay more attention to the two. "Shall we retire someplace more private to talk?"
Raun patted her head, considering. Was she propositioning him? Her sleek build was appealing, though with no breasts she wasn't exactly making him bulge his shorts. Still…"Sure. Lead on?"
She turned out to live just a little way away, down in the apartments beneath the park. One large, oval chamber, pleasantly cool, with many fur rugs and hangings, a scattering of furniture. One alcove looked to lead to a bathroom, while a door led out the back. Raun took the moment to glance around as she flopped down on a polar-bear rug, then looked back to find her sprawled lazily on the thing, watching him. "Sooo…what do we talk about?"
Strega patted the thick white fur next to her foreparts. "Come on over, and I will ask you about wolverines." The male studied her for a moment, apparently deciding she didn't look too menacing, and paced over to flump down on his rear, there on the soft pelt.
"Okay." Raun stroked her head-top, watching her arch upward into the petting again. "I'm a wolverine. What do you want to know?" She turned her muzzle to look him over from in close, her eyes glittering and unreadable. After a moment she sniffed his knee.
"I'm a curious fur. Curious about other species. I've met so many." Touching his thigh, she petted the dark fur, lifting her muzzle to hover between his knees. "Will you indulge my curiosity?"
Raun stroked her head with his other handpaw, watching her slowly advance her nose between his thighs. She was making her interest pretty plain…and, though her idea of foreplay wasn't what he really liked, he sure had no objection to proceeding past it. "I sure will." Rolling back on the polar-bear fur, he pulled his shorts up over his knees, off his big footpaws.
As soon as the wolverine had the shorts clear, she pushed against the inside of his thighs with the backs of her wrists, the male spreading his thighs as he lowered his legs. In a moment he rested his feet on her foreshoulders, she sniffed at his groin, looking over the dark, furry ballsac and the long sheath that tried to hide in his belly-pelt. Tried to hide…but she thought he was a little excited already.
Raun supported himself on his elbows, keeping his muzzle down so he could watch what she did next. Whiskers tickled his groin as she snuffled at his sheath, following the slight curve of it down to his balls…and then a warm, soft wash there, as she tasted his ballsac with a flick of broad, pink tongue. A moment later, she slid her tongue up his sheath, tickling delightfully.
Strega lapped at the wolverine's sheath, following the curve of it with her tongue, tasting, feeling.. She really was curious; once upon a time she could barely meet a new species without the urge to see what their genitals looked like made itself felt. It was a silly fixation; her own genitals were different enough from those of a local that copulation was not usually much fun for her. But still, occasionally the urge to do something like this appeared…and she had never had a chance to please a wolverine like this. She licked, stroking his sheath with her strong tongue, feeling it stiffen under the massage.
Raun licked his lips, half-closed his eyes, and enjoyed it. Down between his thighs, the weaselly femme teased his balls with soft strokes underneath, tickled his sheath-base with tongue-tip, and rubbed the sheath against the meat inside with strong swipes of wet tongue. He could feel himself stiffening, going hard inside the fur, stretching it tight. When her tongue-tip found the slit, tickled through it and across his tip, he growled, and resisted the urge to reach down and pull her muzzle against his belly.
Strega pulled her muzzle back, rubbing a toepad gently over the wolverine's ballsac. He was hung much like a skunk, or a mink, long and narrow. Though 'narrow' really didn't do this one credit; he was a healthy wolverine, and better equipped than most of the local males she'd been with. Bit by bit her teasing convinced the sheath to draw back, exposing the pink cock within, and when his shaft was fully erect and twitching against his bellyfur, she leaned down to take the tip in her lips.
Raun felt his claws dig down into the long white fur, could see his legs spreading all by themselves, heard his own harsh pant as his cock slipped into the weaselly muzzle. With a long, slow suck she took the whole thing, tongue sliding along the bottom, breath hot across his balls. He felt his tip squish into the tightness at the back of her mouth, touch the gullet beyond, before she withdrew just as slowly, encircling his tip with thin, black lips and sucking hard while tickling his shaft with stroking toepads.
Strega tasted the wolverine, salt and dark musk, the sharp odor filling her nose as she squeezed his shaft between her toepads, stroking up and down. Suckle, stroke; slowly take him all in, wash with her tongue, withdraw, sucking all the way. All the while he watched, eyes half-lidded, muzzle bobbing gently as her own went up and down. He was silent, just lying back, accepting the pleasure, his shaft so stiff it barely flexed in her grip.
Raun noticed he was panting, noticed his thighs spreading wider still, felt the coarse fur of her foreshoulders beneath his footpads. All was silent except for his breathing, the liquid sounds as the weaseless suckled, the rustle as his fingers clutched at the white fur. He felt his tail twitch against her chest, felt his balls tense threateningly, and let his head sag back a little. Usually when he was with a female, he took a long time to get this close; but then, usually he didn't let himself enjoy it this much. He could just lie back, let the warmth build in his balls, let what happened happen….
Strega felt the wolverine's cock tensing between her lips, saw his bellyfur twitch, and reached forward to hold his thighs in her forepaws. Double thumbs took a light grip, just letting her feel the tension there, the trembling in the muscles. Sure he was growing close to his climax, she hooked his cock straight up from the bellyfur, turned her muzzle down…and yawned. Her chin slipped between his thighs, chops sliding up his bellyfur as she opened her throat, pushing downward so the hard shaft slipped down her gullet. In a moment his balls popped in to rest against her tongue, and she clenched her throat with a gulp, massaging his shaft once, again, again, doing her best to gulp it down whole.
Raun blinked wide as the female took in his whole cock, deep throating him in a way he hadn't seen before. He only had a moment to be amazed before she began to swallow…and the strange, pulsing sensation so much like a woman's pussy was just too much. A rumbling growl shuddered out of him, his eyes rolling back as he felt the pressure build and build, until with a snarl he let go in her gullet, the throat squeezing his cock as the seed shot out of him.
Strega flicked her whiskers up in a smile, and squeezed the wolverine's cock with a strong gulp. She had felt the great gout of hot semen against her gulletskin, something he could not feign, and bore down with three more strong gulps to milk him. Muscles jerked in his thighs, his footpaws sliding off her shoulders, his balls tensing and twitching against her tongue. Eyes closed, he snarled again and again, spurting out his lust, seed swallowed away by the same ripples of effort that tried to suck his shaft right down her throat. Finally the gouts ceased, and he opened his eyes, panting weakly.
"Rrrrmmmm." Raun relaxed, feeling her tongue play with his ballsac, her throat relax around his cock. "That was nice…." She pushed at his thighs, bending them back up against his chest, and he grabbed them to leave his belly clear for any more pleasant things she might want to do to him. He was so very relaxed, he could go to sleep right here.
Strega pulled off the shrinking cock, tasting a small residue of semen, the wolverine's musky taste amplified in the salty goo. "I'm glad. I've never had a wolverine before. You are handsome, and tasty." She licked his wet shaft, and he growled.
"I'll have to return the favor…what are you doing?" He blinked curiously as she put her forepaws on his thighs, holding them against his chest even though he was already keeping them there. The push didn't hurt at all; he was flexible in the weaselly way, and could do the splits or this doubling-up effortlessly. He watched as she licked at his tip, all that was visible with his sheath resuming its place, then covered his balls with her yawn once again. "Gods, you are hungry. It's going to take a few minutes before I can do that again."
Strega nodded, stretching her lips over his abdomen, his balls sliding once more down her tongue. "Mm-hmm." She flicked her whiskers amusedly, and began to wriggle her muzzle from side to side. Bit by bit her muzzle gaped further, her lips popping outward across his rump on one side, then the other. His ballsac reached the back of her tongue, was rubbed by her tongue as it bunched up against his sheath-base…and then gulped down, his balls a small lump in her throat, sliding slowly down.
Raun whined, balls stroked so nicely, and thought he felt his sheath stiffening again already. Gullet clutched at his sheath-base, now, gobbling it up as well, and his elbows gave way slightly, letting him sag back so he could hardly see her. He was still so tired, in the post-ejaculatory haze, that his strength seemed to have fled.
Strega twisted her head from side to side, feeling the wolverine's rump-fur bristle up against her lips, fold down, and then slide inside to tickle her tongue. Her yawn had reached its limit, and tilting her nose up, she put pressure on the joints between lower jaw and skull. It was tight, resisting the effort, and she pushed harder, her lips stretched out around his rump.
Raun sighed, pushed his chest back up, grinning at the weaseloid who was trying to swallow his sheath. "You are really some…" And then he felt a *POP* against his rump, felt something holding him stretch…and saw her jaws dislocate, the lower falling away as her lips slid forward to hide his rump entirely from view. "Oh, crap."
Strega held his thighs down, the wolverine still too surprised to struggle, and stretched her jaws around his rump. His tail bent back, pushing past her loose lower jaw and into her maw, his sheath and balls preceding everything else as she swallowed the wolverine whole. Already his thighs were held down by her upper jaw, her lips stretching as they gathered in the doubled-up mustelid, lower jaw scooping him from the rug an inch at a time. She swallowed, her throat gripping at his butt and balls, sucking him inches deeper as her neck swelled out around her meal.
Raun tensed, and lunged down at her muzzle. His flexibility let him reach her past his knees, and he snapped at her nose. He had to get her off him…but his bite fell short, and as he collapsed back, his arms gave way as well, his back thumping to the white fur. Why was he so weak all of a sudden? He should be able to tear at her, make her very sorry she tricked him close and tried to eat him. He looked at his handpaw, the curved, white claws flexing, and tried to reach down, slash her. Again, he could barely move. And then he remembered her muzzle on his cock, and realized what had happened.
"You drugged me!" The wolverine's voice was still strong, and Strega smiled with her whiskers, as she felt his rump slide down into her throat, his thighs slowly covered with her stretched cheeks. "Why are you doing this? There has to be easier food to get!"
Raun could still feel everything, feel the little fangs she had that gripped into his fur and held him in her mouth. She would dig in on one side, twist her head the other way, grip down on that side, and then reverse the process. Her throat slid upward over his thighs, her neck swelling ever larger, and he felt the strong gulps that tensed the gullet, helping pull him a little deeper each time. He struggled to get a grip on the carpet, keep her from going any further.
Strega arched her neck, rolling the wolverine back onto his shoulders, and worked her lips up his torso. Doubled up as he was, he was a massive meal, stretching her jaws to their limits. She had waited far too long for a wolverine meal to stop just because of a little pain; she swallowed, slipping him in up to his armpits, his footpaws next to his ears, and felt, down where her gullet reached her ribcage, his balls. His balls, and a small prod, as his cock slid from its sheath, mindless thing eager at the massage, unknowing of its owner's troubles.
Raun growled, feeling himself sink deeper, felt her gulping him up, her shadow falling across him as her jaws slid up around his shoulders. He could feel his cock pulsing, down there inside her somewhere, stretched out past his balls in her gullet and kneaded by each of the heavy gulps that were pulling him down. He refused to pay attention, and bit at her chops, managing to draw blood as his fangs dug in weakly.
Strega ignored it, ignored the handpaws pushing at her cheeks, and rolled herself over on top of him. Her weight pressed her jaws down, the wolverine becoming a huge lump in her throat. Wriggling her muzzle from side to side, she gathered him up, until she rolled onto her side, jaws and neck hugely distended, his muzzle and footpaws and weakly waving arms protruded. All she had to do now was swallow, and with a powerful gulp she pulled him in, another, another dragging him down, her ribs creaking in protest as her torso expanded to let his slide begin.
Raun did not give up, though his situation seemed hopeless. He clawed at her with normally iron-strong hands, seeing his claws scritch harmlessly over her palate, her jaws closing further as her throat opened for him. His muzzle was drawn up more and more, until another gulp pulled him down…and then his shoulders hovered right at the entry to her throat, his footpaws and head inside her jaws. Her chop stretched in his teeth, stretched…and tore, a few drops of blood coloring his fangs as he lost his grip. Her jaws began to close, and he felt her tense. "Why?!"
Strega tilted her nose up, spreading out her forepaws to lift herself, and bobbed her head back. Forcing the wolverine's shoulders into her gullet, she closed her jaws firmly around him, and swallowed, feeling her throat clench at him. And, finally, push him down, the huge lump in her neck sliding down into her torso, slowly moving down her length. She could still feel his cock….
Raun swore, trying to grip at her fangs, her gums…and then they were slipping away, darkness gathering as her jaws closed, as he began to slide down her throat. He felt the muscles working behind the gulletskin, bands of strong swallowing muscles pushing at him, the throat closing in front of his muzzle, opening to let his rump slide down. The rippling gulp stroked his whole body, from muzzle to shoulders, thighs and torso, hips…and his cock, which he noticed again, preceding him down her gullet. The massage against the inflamed organ was again too much, and he couldn't stop what happened then, more of his semen gouting into her gullet, his balls pulsing as they were squeezed down the throat.
Strega felt the wolverine shudder, growl in her throat, and what she thought was a hot splatter down at his lowest parts. With a whisker-flick she got her jaws entirely shut, and as he shivered she gulped him the rest of the way down, the tight pressure around the lump in her throat relaxing finally as her loose bellyskin bulged out. It stretched, twitched…and with a low moan she pushed her midpaws against it, pushing him into a tighter package best situated for digestion.
It was over. Raun moved weakly in the weaseless' stomach, the slime from the walls making everything slick and gummy. Somewhere in all that goo was his own, two loads of it, waiting to be digested…just like him. He whimpered, then clenched his teeth, pushing at the pulsing walls, heard and felt a double pulse. At least there was a little air here, swallowed along with him, and the slime did not burn. He scraped his claws against the walls….
Strega smiled, in her weaselly way, lifting long, white whiskers. She toyed with the harness, examining the reading on a small display in one module. The sensors directed at her gullet had taken a near-perfect record of the wolverine, and she used other sensors to double-check against the prey in her belly, making sure she had him. His semen alone would have been enough to give her data on his species, but she had never had a wolverine. As he wriggled inside, she enjoyed the pleasant fullness, and nodded. She had all she needed.


Raun woke, and smiled, feeling the coarse fur against his cheek. Opened his eyes, and found the weaseless watching him, her own smile curving her whiskers. "I fell asleep."
Strega nodded. "But only after I got to taste you." She stroked his thigh, where he lay naked next to her. "I've wanted to visit with a wolverine for a very long time. I hope you don't mind me saying that. It's not racism, I hope, but your kind is just so handsome…so tasty." She grinned at him, licking her chops.
Raun laughed, patting her shoulder. "Well, you can taste me like that any time. Shall I do you a return favor?" He covered his muzzle, yawning.
She shook her head a fraction. "It'll wait until tomorrow. I'm looking forward to playing more…I have a smaller shape more suited to sitting in a handsome wolverine's lap." She rubbed her cheek against his shoulder, and he smiled again.
Raun rested his cheek on her forepaw. "All right. See you then." And he fell into a deep sleep, able like all his kind to snatch rest when it was available.
Strega watched him sleep, muffling a belch with her other forepaw. He had never really had a chance; between the drugs she had secreted and licked into his cock, and the relaxation that naturally follows an orgasm, he had been too weak to keep her from feeding. He had still been pleasantly wriggly…and quite filling.
She stroked the curve of her belly, able to feel it through the illusion her image-caster layered atop her to keep her companion from growing suspicious. By tampering with his memory before her room's technology had recreated him, she had made his last memory that of her taking his seed in her throat. But his body remembered the second orgasm as well, and he slept peacefully.
By the morning, his previous self would be largely digested. Perhaps she would take him again then, or just play, please him, change to her humanoid shape to share pleasure, perhaps.
She settled down her muzzle on the white fur, a gift from another lover. She had many friends, but her closer relationships did not tend to last. Whereas some sought gentle or rough companionship, loving…she was merely hungry.

The End.