Strega and Anima make a night of it...

In a page-pose to you, Anima scritches, "Evenin, Strega.

You page, "Good evening, dear. How are things for the big black panther?" to Anima.

In a page-pose to you, Anima flumps down, "Hmm, in turmoil? Purrhaps that's a bit of an exxageration. You?

You page, "Well, I am fighting my habitual laziness, with little success. Turmoil?" to Anima.

Anima pages, "Skool's been kinda rough. Organic Chemistry, bleah!" to you.

You page, "I have a story just about done, but I've run into a motivational roadblock. It's the second time it's happened on this story too." to Anima.

In a page-pose to you, Anima erghs. Hate those.

You page, "I'm usually more reluctant to write than draw, because my private interests show up more in my writing than in my drawing. And I'm not a great writer technically." to Anima.

In a page-pose to you, Anima thinks you're a great writer, *slurps*

You page-pose, "Strega flicks her whiskers in a smile. "Thank you for saying that. I agonize over things like commas and sentence structure, though. I wish I had paid more attention in my English classes."" to Anima

In a page-pose to you, Anima pffts, "With the grammatical quality of many of the web's writers, you are a tower of...of...hm. Accuracy? Ugh, my brain feels cooked.

You page, "I used to think that writing was easier than drawing. And when my mind is full of a story that wants to get out, it is. But then sometimes you hit this wall thingie." to Anima.

In a page-pose to you, Anima noddles. "The Wall. Runners get it, and so do writers. It's ruined three or four interesting story ideas for me.

You page, "At least this one is almost done. It will get done, sooner or later. It's not one of those that I have only a few paragraphs done on and will likely never finish." to Anima.

In a page-pose to you, Anima mmms, nodding. He wraps a foreleg around your neck, and nestles.

You page-pose, "Strega snuggles up close. "The other person I am talking to always backs away in alarm when I try to snuggle. I really can't blame him. I'm afraid he's got good reasons to be nervous around me."" to Anima

In a page-pose to you, Anima smiles, and nestles closer, lifting his hindleg and slipping it around you pull himself snug against you. Purrrrrrrrrr... "Ah well, his loss.

You page-pose, "Strega snuggles her back up against your belly. "Honestly though, not everyone likes being around predators. He has the well-reasoned position that if he does get close there's a finite chance that I will eat him. He doesn't trust me to be, well, trustworthy, and in fact I haven't been. You know how I am."" to Anima

In a page-pose to you, Anima nods, smiling a bit, resting his chin between your ears. "Yes, I know how you are. Still, some things are worth the risk," He rumbles contently, dragging a stroking paw along your side.

You page-pose, "Strega nibbles at the fur beneath your chin. "For the longest time I have planned to draw you. This little scene has been in my head for a year and more, in which I tell you to invite the mailman in for lunch and you eat him, misinterpreting what I said."" to Anima

In a page-pose to you, Anima smiles, whiskertickling you softly. "Cute..." He rumbles, giving you a firm squeeze. "Mailmen have so many hazards to deal with..."

You page-pose, "Strega rubs her head firmly where she'd been nibbling. "There are many unexplored frontiers of vore yet to draw. I'm pleased to see several other artists producing a lot of material, too. For a while there it seemed I was the only one drawing. There were a number of Vor-Com updates in which I *was* the update. Now there's Panzer and others."" to Anima

In a page-pose to you, Anima purrrrrs as you rub, nodding softly, and has been happy to see that too. There were some *cute* sketches of some kind of dragon-creature with a lovely belly in the last update he liked. Few lines, but very nice. :K)

You page, "I've tried some simple, toonish stuff lately,. like the Minerva pics. It's not really my strength. I tend to do better on more serious works. I'm thinking of one now with an anthro-tigress sitting on Ripper's back while the big wolvie humps and starts to eat some hapless female fur. 'Why? Better her than me...'" to Anima.

In a page-pose to you, Anima chuckles, nodding, picturing that. He drags his claws along your side, furrowing your pelt.

You page-pose, "Strega stretches luxuriantly beneath your claws. "Mmm, it's been a while since we snuggled. It brings back all sorts of memories. Do you remember the icing machine you had? Or, what was it, some sort of creme projector? It shot the stuff all over is. Quite the mess." As though unconsciously, one of her midpaws begins to feel its way back along your belly." to Anima

In a page-pose to you, Anima chuckles, "The mousse pump..." He smiles. "Yes, I remember. I still have part of that log...when I walked into the Food chain the next morning and you cleaned me." He purrrrs. The kitty's belly is rather lean...purrhaps he was eaten recently, and his paunch 'reset.'

You page-pose, "Strega's midpaw feels across the peak of your belly, not, apparently, very interested in it. Now, had there been a perceptible bulge there, the morbid curiosity any fur possesses would have had her poking and prodding to determine the shape and species of the meal. Lacking that bulge, her paw strays onward -- and, reaching the limit of its reach, a hindpaw takes it place. "I showed Athelind the record of that night. He said it was 'hysterical'." She rubs her back against your breastbone, and the hindpaw reaches quite boldly past your belly and into regions more private." to Anima

You page, "I know it looked easy for me, but I always had, and have trouble, approaching my prey. I was so active back then becaue they usually approached me." to Badger.

In a page-pose to you, Anima rumbles softly, tail flickering as you draw your paw along his warm belly. "It was, it truly was," He smiles. "I wouldn't mind a copy of that either, I think I must've lost it." He rrrrs? as he feels the hindpaw slip between his hindlegs, brushing the plump cylinder of his sheath...

You page-pose, "Strega nods, thinking along. "I know I have a log of that somwhere under the name 'Anima Mousse'. Yes, there it is, in my own folder." She doesn't say anything about what her paw is doing: Double 'thumbs' each as large as a woman's fist grip your sheath, the four equally sturdy 'fingers' knead into the pelt of it, and her paw begins to make slow but powerful movements that stroke the thing both against the shaft within and against her haunch. "It's been a long time since we talked."" to Anima

You page, "If it's too late to start something, even something relatively brief, just say the word." to Anima.

In a page-pose to you, Anima nods, "It has been awhile," He rumbles, (don't worry, he's wired with sugar. ;K) "Since we talked...or," He smiles, his sheath swelling slowly...heat washing from it as well as his distinctive musk. He licks down along your face, just above your eyes, rumbling gently...

Anima pages, "(You're welcome to come over if you can?)" to you

You page-pose, "Strega's entirely body rubs yours, slowly and sinuously, and you smell something you haven't in well over a year. Whether it's the familiar company or the snugg" to Anima

mjoin anima

MEETME: Request sent.

Anima's Bedroom

Anima cleaned up his room, it seems. The sheets are back on the bed, though the cushions and plushie remain by the fire, and the bed seems unslept in. The computer is silent, with a hypnotic screensaver dancing across its monitor.

All the electronic junk has been shoved back under the bed, though a few cables escape. Hanging over a chair is a long black trenchcoat, with patches and pockets sewn onto it. A few pieces of scrap metal lie near it with some tools, along with a few pieces of skateboard padding. Huh.

There's a few pictures on the wall now, the poor sketches Anima calls his art. Funny...you can't seem to make them out, they're all blurry. Maybe they look different to different people...

Possibly a defense against late-night intruders, (although you'd think a giant panther wouldn't worry much about such things,) a long heavy iron bar leans against the bed's headboard, wrapped at the ends with electrical tape.

Soft rugs cover the floor, removing the chill of the stone and softening the room to bare paws and feets. A tapestry on the far wall depicts a buck standing watch while some does drink from a bubbling stream... The colors are simple and dark, the design elegant. A couple spots light it up, making it obvious Anima's proud of this possession.

A hope chest lies at the foot of the bed now, and though there is a lock there, it isn't engaged. Smelling pleasantly of cedar, the rather battered chest seems to have come a long way.

Flop down, make yourself at home. You're safe here.

( Take two, :K) ).

l anima

Before you stands shadow incarnate...or a creature that might as well be. The panther's long, low, massive body is jet-black through and through. Only his eyes convince you that what you're seeing *isn't* a shadow. Golden orbs fix you with a penetrating gaze, sizing you up, but not with an unkind or arrogant look. Those beautiful eyes appear to be leaking tears, until a closer look reveals that the tear-trails are only streaks of silvery fur dripping down his soft cheeks. It lends a definite air of melancholy to the great feline...

Anima's gait is smooth and graceful, almost liquid. As he moves, you realize the full scope of his size.

Why, he must measure twenty feet or more from nose to tailbase! His tail flows on for another five feet, a slinky serpent of ebony.

After giving you that long, measuring look, Anima grants you a gentle...almost shy smile. Maybe his appearance is little indication of the amiable personality within... Purrhaps you'd like to be friends?

[ Anima noticed you looking at him ]

Carrying:

Towel

silver band

satchel

Strega's entire body rubs yours, slowly and sinuously, and you smell something you haven't in well over a year. Whether it's the familiar company or the snuggling, she's showing the signs and scents of arousal. That's not at all common this time of year, and maybe she isn't even aware of it. It's more likely she is, and is just letting it happen. Her body is dwarfed by your bulk, but her large hindpaw can still grip your sheath, and is giving its pelt progressively stronger tugs to rubs the now rubbery-stiffening thing against her rump. "It's been a long time for a lot of thing. I don't snuggle with furs very often these days."

Anima rocks slowly, dragging his silken belly along your back, his forelegs cozying you up a bit more snugly. "Mmmmmmm...it's a lost art," He chuckles, his voice a bit breathy as his sheath disgorges its contents. The slick fleshy staff expands out to bump your rump, dragging along your fur and leaving a gooey streak. Arching his neck, he slides his jaws down around the back of your neck, fastening them there gently as he shifts his hindquarters. He seems quite determined to renew the relationship... |K) That scent of yours is making it quite difficult to exercise any kind of self control, as well...

You whisper, "How large is your 'lil' Anima' when you are this size?" to Anima.

Anima whispers, "Anima snickers, "Ah...17 inches long. Probably around 3 thick." to you.

making exp whenever someone uses your weapon :) That I find really neat :)" to you.

Strega's other hindpaw reaches back, almost seeming boneless in its flexible motions. Two six-toed paws each the size of man's face snug around the emerging head, rubbing their leathery pads lightly against the sensitive flesh. The sheer size of your body -- vastly more massive than her own -- means that her paws grip a formidable length of shaft, but feeling it does not seem to intimidate her. Still lying on her side, she manipulated the thing upward. Her position makes rising to your paws a losing proposition -- it would be difficult to properly mount her. She essentially compels you to stay spooned, while slipping the meaty tip past her tail to touch the horizontal slit beneath her anus. "Some things require art, and some things merely are."

Anima rumbles loudly, letting you guide him, the slippery heat of his shaft throbbing between your paws... He mumbles something around your scruff that may be 'how true,' forepaws kneading your upper belly with soft pistoning presses. This is quite a cozy arrangement, and he takes great pleasure in it already... The addition of mating to this is icing on the cuddle-cake, the panther shivering just a bit in anticipation of sheathing himself in your long-neglected loins…

Strega's rump pushes up against your belly, her double sets of shoulders against your breastbone. Dwarfed by her lover, she grips into her pelt with four paws and then two more, as she releases your shaft to reach down and wind toes into your thighfur. Just as she releases, her own movement forces your tip through those almost-dry horizontal lips and into the waxy chamber that severs to divert a male's cock into one or another of her vulvas. The last paw gets its grip, and she stretches herself, pushing her rump down toward your balls and impaling herself. Her sex -- the right-hand one -- is slickly wet, soft yet tight. You are no longer than a falan male, but you are thicker, and her hiss is of pure pleasure as she forces herself over you.

In a page-pose to you, Kria snickers,"Doing something?

You page, "For the first time in a while, I am, yes. :3" to Kria.

Anima mmMMMphs, losing breath in the middle of the muffled cry as his shaft sinks into that right-hand blossom. He's forgotten this sensation...and greedily treasures it now, as inch by inch his maleness vanishes up the soft snug passage... Saliva trickles through your fur around the scruff, dampening you warmly and quickly dried by the excited huffs of his breath... You feel his heart thudding rapidly against your back, echoed in the width we're squeezing into your secret depths.

In a page-pose to you, Kria wonders what is sliding down your gullet today? :)

Strega's vulva takes in inch after inch, alternately loose and suckingly tight. The feel of it is much like a humanoid femme's sex, but turned on its side; where the bump of the clit would be against the top of your shaft, here it is against the side, and instead of one bump it's a long ridge that runs as deep as you can feel. She pulls and pushes herself down your belly until her nape goes taut in your fangs, and stretches out until your entire shaft is sucked out of sight. The fleshy outer lips graze your sac, then pull away as she begins to move. Lithe and muscular, all six powerful legs gripping tight, she begins to arch and straighten, arch and straighten. You don't have to move; at this point, you would have to apply violent force to be able to. In full control, she humps up and down on your shaft, engulfing it (Hiss...!), arching to pull partway off, and straightening again (Hiss...!)

You page, "Actually, I am mating with someone. I haven't done that in a long time, not as myself. A very big black panther, an old friend and lover." to Kria.

In a page-pose to you, Kria giggles,"Strega the big black woozel being humped, oooh thats a site." She grins,"Someone I know?"

Anima lets a heartfelt groan escape into your scruff as you begin to work yourself on and off his shaft...each lustful impalement sending shivers down his spine. The cat's tail twitches along the floor, his forelegs loosening to give you a bit more freedom of movement. You feel his tongue sliding out to caress your slickened scruff, the cat washing you in a limited fashion as...well, as *you* mate *him*. Slick pre drools from his thick cock, greasing your insides further, and trickling deeper in slick rivulets. Soon the pre is spurting in gentle streams instead of dribbling, as the veins entwining his pole flare...squeezing his inner passages tightly with the mass of blood-bloated flesh!

You page, "I don't know if you know Anima. Old friend and lover of mine." to Kria.

Strega's paws tug at your pelt in six places as she works herself up and down your shaft. With your haunches forced to remain still, rather than pumping energetically as instinct would have them (your hindpaws, even now, twitch, quite without your instructions), the feeling is not so much of a conventional mating as of an oral servicing. Given your druthers, you would be crouched atop her, haunches pumping, sliding in and out with such force that her juices would have already soaked your sac. Instead you lie on your side, trembling, and the much smaller female beside you scrapes her rump up and down your belly. The increasingly hot and slippery sex engulfs your cock, seeming to suck at it, then reluctantly lets most of it free, only to consume it once more. You can feel the hot breath from her lower breathing slits. She's not intentionally discomfiting you. She's panting, eager, and merely takes the most direct route to filling herself with your heavy shaft. That she's allowed you no choices at all in the matter doesn't seem to have occured to her.

Anima has no complaints, although his instincts tug at him to thrust, buck, and slam into you... He quiets them as best he can to avoid discomfort to either of us and hangs on for the ride! The soft bulk of his sac wobbles with your movements, each large orb busily manufacturing seed...secreting it away in the trembling reservoir. This method will prolong our mating, as when the time comes for him to 'need' to speed up, he won't be able to...letting our pleasure build more steadily... The huge cat resettles his jaws on your neck, a ragged purrrrrrrrrrrrr rumbling into your spine, simply communicating the feline's pleasure. A tight flare stretches you firmly during one deep impalement, Anima gasping at the feel of your body taut around his maleness. Godsssss...

Anima whispers, "Anima smiles, "When you get going to 'splain something, it happens. |K)" to you.

Strega doesn't seem to mind the nape-bite, in fact surely revels in it, pushing her scruff hard against the fangs. Feline or weaselly, both sorts grip the nape, though for different reasons. A cat only does it for a moment, as he ejaculates; a mustelid, to hold the female still and secure her submission. You go somewhere in between, and she pushes against the points, wanting a harder bite. One midpaw has detached from your belly and moves to her own, pressing in hard just above her sex. It's a palpable pressure, tightening the channel around your cock, and as the pressure increases she begins to jerk herself rapidly up and down. A shaft less hard than yours would bend under the hammering; yours pumps violently in and out, and she lets out hurt-sounding little whines as she pumps your shaft in and out of her. That long ridge in the channel's side has swollen greatly since you entered, and that too increases the pressure, the stroking -- the pleasure -- for you both.

Anima realizes what you want, and opens...then shuts his jaws again firmly, taking a great mouthful of your furred flesh, sinking his teeth in 'til you can't budge an inch from that grip. His velvet paws stroke distractedly along your brisket and belly...purrhaps seaking teats to stroke. feeling that pressure around his shaft elicits a long grumbling groan, the cat's flanks twitching as muscles jump. His body seems to go slightly haywire under such pleasurable conditions, and he's happy to let it do so for reward. Slowly, the pressure in his loins rises...spreading from his pulsing sac, to the roots of his shaft, tickling at nerves there in warning. Anima flares again at the feeling, compressing a squirt of pre into a palpable shot into your tender tissues. The stuff is thicker...heavier now, and as some leaks back out of your snug tunnel the stronger scent registers as well. Shutting his eyes, Anima shudders and enjoys...tail swatting your rump now and then like a silk riding crop

Strega's sex is a clenching pressure now, gripping your cock so tight it seems unwilling to relinquish it despite her increasingly frantic movements. She has two sexes, and male falan have two shafts, but a single good-sized one can bring her to climax if it's applied energetically enough. You could hardly have thrust into her harder than she's thrust against you, and the already clingingly tight vulva grows tighter still as the swelling along one wall increases. That's her clitoris, or the equivalent, and at full engorgement it becomes terribly sensitive. The least little stroke is intensely pleasant, and there's nothing 'little' about what's happening to her now. Her orgasm, when it arrives, is almost without warning: The sex grabs your cock like a fleshy vice, pulsating almost painfully hard all around your shaft, and she lets out a chilling screech as the pleasure runs like fire up her spine. She shudders, her claws scrape hard at your pelt, and her vulva massages your shaft in an instinctive attempt to milk out your seed

Anima loves that growing swelling along his shaft...it touches spots much more firmly than any normal sex, and like scratching an itch, it's glorious to feel it scraping along his cock over and over... He flares every few seconds now, unable to help it! His shaft is fiercely swollen, and would be obviously purple in any un-ebon shaft. His shots of pre are hard, arcing ahead to spatter your deepest reaches... When your climax hits, and the tight passage unaccountably gets *tighter*, he just can't stand it another second! His orgasm swells, a strong one, and he lets it go with a scream of his own, teeth tightening again on your thick scruff! The passage buried in his shaft dilates, and releases the pulses of seed, thick gooey streams splurting into you and building up...our fit much too snug for any liquid to escape at this point! He spends himself within you, pumping a full gallon of hot cum into your depths one rushing spurt at a time... The panther quivers as his pleasure lances through his loins, washing through like a flood...receding as the last of his sticky offering fills you.

Strega's own orgasm is seconds into its peak when you let fly the first great gush of semen, and though she's shuddering still in passion, she stays ahead of you on the curve, and retains more control. The instant she has any of her wits back, and clamps down with all her strength, maintaining the grip on your board-stiff cock. She can't keep the seed from spurting forth, but she can slow its passage, which as the dual effect of prolonging your pleasure and forcing her back into climax as the pulses of panther-jizm pulse down through the thick shaft. Her claws take a renewed grip in your pelt as her torso arches, forcing her sex once again over your cock all the way to the balls. Greedily she fills her vulva with hot slippery panthercock, and not one drop of seed is able to escape. Held by the pneumatic seal, it forms a thick puddle around the head of the shaft, and some even makes it into her curiously shaped womb.

Anima fills you with every drop he has stored, the creamy heat washing your insides...lapping at his shaft thickly. He chews a little on your scruff, resettling his teeth as his dregs trickle into you. Clutching you close with his forelegs, he gusts a hot sigh through his nose...chest and flanks heaving as he catches his breath. He's never had that wonderful a mating by just lying there before... Maybe he should try it more often. ;K) His pulse gradually slows...and slowly, some of the swelling in his shaft goes down...letting your vaginal barrel relax. Slowly his purrrrrrrrrr builds again, coherent now, and spread from his throat into his chest. Mmmmmmmmmmm a climax with no

Strega's hot breath gusts over your belly as she pants through those lower slits. Unwilling to relinquish her grip, she holds your cock tight in her sex until long after the last seed has gouted forth, and indeed, past the time when the post-ejaculatory ooze has ceased. Gradually this becomes uncomfortable, but before it becomes truly painful she lets go. All this while she was silent, but now, as your cock gratefully retreats, she speaks. "Do you know, not many males can make me so anxious for their seed. And most of those, I just suckle until they give it to me. Very few have actually spent themselves in me the way a male is meant to with a femme."

Anima rumbles deeply...slowly releasing your scruff to speak, shifting to resettles his legs about you and cuddle. "Mmmmmmmm...how so?" He rumbles a bit thickly, caressing you gently. Deeply appreciative of our coupling, he washes your neck fondly, cleaning the pin-prick wounds his teeth printed in you. Slowly his shaft shrinks...but remains halfway out of his sheath, refusing to retreat the rest of the way. You feel his tongue on your ears, as the panther expands his grooming area. Sated and cozy, the panther wants for nothing but a warm snuggly body in his embrace, and soft talk.

Strega's sex relinquishes a tiny dribble of seed -- pulled out of her as your shaft retreated -- but the great bulk of it stays far down inside her, untidily mixed with her own freely flowing juices. There is no chance at all of her becoming pregnant despite the great wad of pantherseed: It's is far from her mating time, and the species are too different, most likely. With a shake of her head she recovers most of her composure. "Most males simply aren't large enough to be worth my time. Even a well-endowed anthro-fur does not tend to be able to please me. Sometimes they will use their hands, but mostly it's large, non-humanoids I find...sexy. Most other males I will play with, perhaps suck the seed from their cocks, then I usually eat them of course."

Anima smiles, gently raking you with his claws, dragging them through your thick pelt. "Well, I'm only too happy to fall within the narrow category you enjoy, lover..." He murmurs, lipping gently at your headfur. "Anytime I'm about and you'd like a good scruffing...let me know." His tail swings lazily...brushing the floor. The slick tip of his shaft finally retreats from sight, the panther rumbling his pleasure to you...resisting the urge to slip behind you and lick your sex clean. It's easier just to lie here and hold you... "Though of course, you do miss out on a meal," He rumbles with a whiskery smile.

Strega rolls onto her paws suddenly, rises (not getting much taller in the process, but that's just her), and stretches. "If I had wanted a meal I could have become my larger self somewhere along the line, yes? But then your wonderful panthery shaft would have rattled around in me like a needle in a...well, suffice it to say that I wouldn't have been satisfied. And that's what I wanted. Snuggled up with a nice warm panther, I had a certain urge, and together we discharged it. I can find a meal another time, sss."

Anima smiles, lazing on his side, reaching up to pat your flank. "This is true... Must you go? I have a nice bowl of cider we could share. It's been quite awhile...I'm sure you've had many adventures since we last compared notes."

Strega eyes a little chrono clipped onto her harness. "I can stay a bit longer. I suppose I could use the time to cool off, I'm still panting." She flicks her whiskers and settles back down beside you. "Adventures...mm, perhaps. I've done a lot of experimenting."

Anima rolls to his paws, and nudges open a chiller cabinet beneath the bed. Wrapping his paw through a handle fixed to the bowl, he retrieves it and hobbles back over on three legs. Rich autumnal scents wafts from the brew, amber with flecks of spice bobbing in it. "Experimenting? How so?" He rumbles, curling up at an angle to you, the bowl at our noses.

Strega lowers her muzzle for a sniff, then laps a bit of the cider. "Hm. A bit of alcohol there...well, when we last were together -- oh, well more than a year ago -- I had eaten so many people that I got a bit tired of the sameness. I started making 'suits', false images or disguises, and played as different 'people'. More recently I've made a small and interesting predatory pet and created a living 'puppet' that I run remotely. I've played as a female, a male, a neuter...I've done all sorts of odd stuff. Well, not all sorts, but more than before."

Anima nods thoughtfully, lapping up a cool draught of the cider. "Have you found any of them to be particularly enjoyable? A special experience in itself, almost?" He purrrrrrs, licking his whiskers clean. His scent hasn't diminished, as the cat hasn't yet paused to wash himself. Or purrhaps it's merely the scent of his den

Strega's muzzle rests now on a pink-padded forepaw. "Interestingly enough, I found I had a great liking for playing as a male. At first I did so in 'suits', and eventually graduated to disguises that not only didn't look like me but that no one knew were met. Some of them were violent, predatory, well...rapists. On the other side, I had female shapes that were 'not me' that I had a great deal of fun with. Since my disguises have neutal feedback, I feel everything, and I grew oddly fond of the feel of a male orgasm. But then, that's probably because I don't feel my own that often. We're not a hot-blooded race, my people."

Anima hmmms, taking another sip of the cider before it warms. "Interesting... I'm afraid I haven't created much of anything new myself... ____ has decided he may make me part of his pack, in a maternal/protective position. I created a combat form to deal with threats which I believe will serve. The skunkette you know, I believe," He chuckles. "She's still quite popular with several friends, who seem to keep finding themselves in her belly... But strangest of all, I've been getting a lot of mileage out of my cattaur form lately. _____ likes it muchly, both the taste and the peculiar sheath she's equipped with. He's the only to date to show any interest in it, and it's been interesting to remain a 'taur for such a long time."

You hiss, "Taurs are interesting creatures. As a hexaped, I find them interesting myself. One of the most unusual disguises I've made is a beartaur. I created a whole mythology around this supposed space-faring bearish race. That beartaur has the distinction of having the largest male member of any disguise I've made. He's positively elephantine. In theory he could such someone right into it, and I'm considering making a female equivalent. As for skunkettes, I have used several of those myself. They are uniformly popular because people perceive them as cute and unthreatening -- almost never true, as we well know, sss.""

Anima chuckles, licking his lips absently. "Too true...ah! I did create an elegant leopardess form, for formal occasions," He snickers. "I never intended for her to prey upon others, but alas, it happened rather quickly. This bear 'taur...what's his capacity like?" He smiles, listening curiously.

Strega's eyes narrow a bit, perhaps sleepily. "He's big and bulky. His lower parts are the size of a big nonanthro grizzly, and all told he weighs 1500 pounds or so. He could very easily consume three or four human-sized prey, and he can hold more in his throat pouch if need be. His male member is on the other of three feet long, a foot thick, and prehensile, and as I said he can pull someone right into it. He's a very friendly and helpful 'person' but like so many of us he's rather predatory. Now, I have made...let me think...four, is it now? Shapes/disguises meant to be prey, and all of them became predators. So I can empathize with your little problem with the leopardess. Our true nature shows through."

Anima smiles, lazing on his side. "Oh...and a cabbit for fun," He yawns, tongue curling. "My most unique experience lately was likely with a lion 'taur herm, rather larger than even me, who unbirthed my belly. I happened to have a relative of theirs in my gut, and this 'taur wished to give her a massage." He chuckles, "That was interesting...and there's more fun to be had soon, if things go well. I met a cybertaursune a few days ago. A forecock, a prodigious aft-cock, many tails...many breasts, surprisingly soft for a metallic creature. Shi feeds on emotions, as well as furs and food." He smiles, just pondering all the trouble to be gotten up to with that one. "Did ____ make any mention of my latest story thought?"

You hiss, "He didn't." She pauses for a moment. "I find herms a bit creepy, especially ones with multiple cocks and/or shoals of breasts. They are just too hedonistic for my taste. 'I want it all! I want cocks, and pussies, and throw in lots of breasts too! Hold on, I want cocks sticking out of my nipples!'...you can see I was scarred by certain encounters soon after I got here. Too many people influenced by the so-called 'Winger' school of thought...but I digress. Tell me about the story."

Anima chuckles, nodding at the extremists, but for this particular creature it almost seems natural.

"Anyways, ____ told me you'd once imagined turning from your RL shapes into what we are in this realm, and retreating underground...emerging now and then to turn nasty influences and vicious human monsters...into woozle/wuff/etc. food.

Strega thinks about this. "Did he? I don't remember talking about that. I do have an old story about a falan who ate serial killers...I don't remember anything about what he said, though."

Anima hmmms, "At any rate, that's when your name popped up during a story discussion. I asked ____ what he'd wish for, given the genie-deal IRL. One of the wishes was to be IRL what he was here, all powers/abilities intact. I had a similar wish, but one that would have immediate reprecussions for the furry community, (i.e. making the morph program 'real' so anyone who had morphs on here or on taps could assume them with voice commands in the real world.) ____ would be able to *convert* people close to him IRL, but not strangers. And it would take time. We decided a smaller scope like that would be more fun. So ____ will acquire his here-abilities, IRL. He'll convert ______ first, more by accident than design. Then the two will go out, and convert very close lovers, who in turn will convert their closest friends, etc. etc. until a small commune is formed. We retreat to a lonely part of the world, and...well, do what we do here, ;K)

You hiss, "It had better be a -very- lonely part of the world, or Humanity would wipe you out. A few hunters would come in looking to score, get eaten, there's be political consequences, and public opinion would force the President to send in the military. Humans do not take well to people getting eaten. The universal response has been to wipe out the threatening species. That being said, it sounds like a good theme for a story."

Anima smiles, and thinks one of the converted people should have some ability to help conceal the commune. "But it will have quite a bit of humor in it. How could it not really, when two show up outside my dorm window, tellin me to get some pants on and follow them? :K)

You hiss, "It's always fun to put yourself in a story. I have several like that, including one in which I am a human turned into a furry alien then disguised as a human living among humans as an Observer. You might say, why did they bother? I'm not sure myself, hee. But they are fun stories to write."

Anima smiles, nodding. "I have to be careful with it though... I'll be writing Shirra into it, Saka/Arya, ___ and ____ themselves, Elly...probably a few others. It ought to be great fun, and ____ has agreed to help. It won't be too much of an ego trip I hope, purrhaps the opposite if I portray myself accurately," He snickers.
Anima chuckles, "Actually, since *all* our abilities would come in intact, we needn't bother with eating humans at all. We can...interfeed. |K) You for example would have your nanites, though I doubt Scanjammer would make the transition...

You hiss, "My nanotech gives me various abilities, but that doesn't include remaking people. Or remaking myself. I need technology at my den for that, I doubt that would cross over either. I wouldn't be nearly as formidable then, and I couldn't eat or be eaten without killing, or dying."

Anima mmms, nodding. "Well, we'd have to feed you then. I doubt we'd have a problem securing death-row prisoners from a disreputable government... Or purrhaps someone could help reform your meal, so you could have anyone. At any rate, we would do our best to lie low. And since the story will end (probably) with the new furs retreating into hiding, I needn't worry about that. Not unless it actually happens somehow," He sighs wistfully.

Anima yawns, and glares at the clock. "I think, I'd better go." He rumbles, regretfully. He pushes aside the bowl to lean over and lap at your muzzle. "Thank you for tonight, Strega love. It's very good to visit with you again..."

You hiss, "Be careful what you wish for, dear. Sss, sss, sss. And I am perfectly content to eat wildlife if I must. After all, I came to this world because I could eat people with no guilt. I went 25 years before that without eating anyone, and I could go it again."

Strega rubs her cheek against your own. "I too need to sleep. Good luck with the story -- it sounds and epic one -- and pleasant dreams, love."

Strega bobs her muzzle with a last whisker-flick goodbye.

Anima noserubs, smiling. "Sweet dreams, Strega."