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The shopping mall is even quieter at night than during the day, but I don’t mind it. People think it’s weird to live there, but some of us need to live in particular conditions that make it actually kind of decent. You might be a bit fragile to

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Blog: Musky Writes


tags: nsfw, muskwalker, furry, stories, vore, post-vore scat, edible furry

original: https://muskwriter.tumblr.com/post/171441128215

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There were probably people better qualified to hunt down Cardo. I mean, he was a mad scientist, a wolf who’d been wreaking corruption in people’s minds from world to world, and I was just a small-time detective, a red panda–tanuki hybrid travelling

There were probably people better qualified to hunt down Cardo. I mean, he was a mad scientist, a wolf who’d been wreaking corruption in people’s minds from world to world, and I was just a small-time detective, a red panda–tanuki hybrid travelling

There’s an old saying, ‘don’t get mad, get even.’ Sure, it sounds nice on paper, but who wants to stop at getting even? Why go to all the trouble of holding a grudge and plotting revenge and carrying out your clever and glorious retaliation

There’s an old saying, ‘don’t get mad, get even.’ Sure, it sounds nice on paper, but who wants to stop at getting even? Why go to all the trouble of holding a grudge and plotting revenge and carrying out your clever and glorious retaliation

I stood on the sidewalk in front of the house that used to be mine, ready for a fight. Anyone who looked at me probably wouldn’t think me much of a fighter—a small otter, not even four feet tall, somewhat on the pudgy side. Anyone who knew my opponent,

I stood on the sidewalk in front of the house that used to be mine, ready for a fight. Anyone who looked at me probably wouldn’t think me much of a fighter—a small otter, not even four feet tall, somewhat on the pudgy side. Anyone who knew my opponent,

I started out by telling people I’d been in an accident. It was the only explanation that didn’t entirely freak people out, aside from a few very intimate friends online who knew the real truth: I hadn’t lost my good arm in an accident—I’d

I started out by telling people I’d been in an accident. It was the only explanation that didn’t entirely freak people out, aside from a few very intimate friends online who knew the real truth: I hadn’t lost my good arm in an accident—I’d

I never wanted to be paired up with Eckhart. He reminded me of the Fat Lazy Cop stereotype and I hated him for it—I’d made up my mind that if I ever came to outrank him I’d raise the fitness requirements for his position till he was knocked down

I never wanted to be paired up with Eckhart. He reminded me of the Fat Lazy Cop stereotype and I hated him for it—I’d made up my mind that if I ever came to outrank him I’d raise the fitness requirements for his position till he was knocked down

I wasn’t supposed to be in the restroom. I mean, I wouldn’t get into trouble for it directly, but if Master found out, it would lead to questions, and if my answers weren’t good, things might…go bad for me. But I needed a break. The diaper

I wasn’t supposed to be in the restroom. I mean, I wouldn’t get into trouble for it directly, but if Master found out, it would lead to questions, and if my answers weren’t good, things might…go bad for me. But I needed a break. The diaper

Most people come to a concert to watch the stage; me, it’s my job to watch the crowd. Tonight’s audience was rowdy—Macerator tended to draw a packed house—but at least they were focused on the music, not on rushing the stage or starting brawls

Most people come to a concert to watch the stage; me, it’s my job to watch the crowd. Tonight’s audience was rowdy—Macerator tended to draw a packed house—but at least they were focused on the music, not on rushing the stage or starting brawls

I lay in bed, surrounded by plushies, reaching blindly for the one I knew I wanted: my favorite. The one that was specially equipped to get me off. The poor bunny’s tail was encrusted with many months’ worth of cum—just the way I liked it—but

I lay in bed, surrounded by plushies, reaching blindly for the one I knew I wanted: my favorite. The one that was specially equipped to get me off. The poor bunny’s tail was encrusted with many months’ worth of cum—just the way I liked it—but

I was surprised to start getting responses to my personal ad. I mean, I knew I wasn’t hideous-looking, but I was over thirty—past the age of ‘gay death’—my slowing metabolism had already put close to a hundred pounds on my college weight, and

I was surprised to start getting responses to my personal ad. I mean, I knew I wasn’t hideous-looking, but I was over thirty—past the age of ‘gay death’—my slowing metabolism had already put close to a hundred pounds on my college weight, and

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