FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

“Pops, I’m home! I got groce-“

Brad trailed off as he saw what his father was watching on the 70” widescreen that dominated the living room.

It was footage of the inside of the house. Apparently while Brad was off at college, his father Bradley Sr. set up a closed circuit camera system.

“Dad..”

It was footage from last weekend. It was still hazy to JR; he remembered wandering the woods with his friend after wishing on a shooting star.

Looking at the screen he couldn’t believe what he was seeing.

It was a wolf; some fucking monstrous steroid wolf. It took up nearly the entire living room, and he and his buddy were busy popping pills and playing with its throbbing red cock..

His dad was silent, rewinding and watching the same few moments of when his son debased himself licking a canine cock. He had gotten fucked up before, but how the fuck did a monster like that … it just didn’t make sense. He couldn’t defend himself to his father that clearly wasn’t some normal animal, something happened to him in the woods that night, maybe something in the drugs.

Brad was crying, trying to speak but his voice was cracking. His dad turned off the screen and stood up from the couch, facing his pathetic son.

Brad Senior was 6’4”, with gray blue eyes and salt and pepper hair. His beard was short, and he kept his hair cropped. He lifted regularly but sitting at a desk job most days left his mid section paunchy. He wasn’t wearing a shirt, and he had a beer bottle in his hand.

His dense body hair was slick with sweat.

“Look at me, boy.”

The agony of meeting his father’s bleary drunken eyes made Brad expel a pathetic sob.

“I knew you were a pervert, son, but fucking a wild animal? in my home? With some junkie you met online? God I knew you were stealing my underwear since you were little but the psych told me it was a hero worship thing, but what that fuck is that thing? Seriously? You failed out of college from being too drugged out to show up for exams and you’re back here a week and you’re doing sick shit like this?” He paused his tirade to pour himself something harder, two fingers of bourbon.

A half a bottle of Jack later, Bradley Senior was too sauced to make any points. Brad still felt sick to his stomach, but his dad didn’t immediately throw him out or shoot him. He had taken some weed gummis before walking in the door, so he just zoned out as his dad yelled. He was already outed as a degenerate. He could admit that to himself. Between the monstrous wolf knotting him on screen in high definition and his father’s hirsute body, he couldn’t focus his eyes on anything that wouldn’t turn him on. His father was drunk enough he dropped the eye contact and just stared at his plump pink nipples, areola oases in a sea of graying chest hair. His moobs rested on a stupendous gut, covered in that same grey fur. He took after his dad, but Junior was just that, the junior version of Bradley Sr. Shorter, a dusting of body hair, and although he was fat he lacked the strength his father had in his arms and legs. Looking at the bulge in his sweatpants, his dad definitely had the bigger cock.

“BOY! God almighty you really are a lost cause aren’t ya? I’m trying to understand you but you’re stoned out of your mind practically drooling over me. Shit…” He tossed back the bourbon and finished off his beer. He turned the tv back on and walked downstairs into the basement, where he built his man cave.

Junior leapt across the room and shut off the humiliating footage. Setting the remote back down, he saw piles of dot matrix paper. His dad kept an old one in his office saying it was the cheapest way to print. On the coffee table was every horny thing he looked up online in the past week. He didn’t know going away to college would turn his dad into a home networking freak.

DAD SON SEX

DADDY POPPER PIG TRAINER

SON DRINKS DAD’s PISS

DAD DOMINATING SON

HYPNO GOONING 6 HOURS

and the list went on. Junior knew he liked his “me time”, but seeing how much time he spent in a week jacking off to perverted shit.

“BOY! GET DOWN HERE!”

The drunken shout from down below echoed throughout the house. Nothing could be worse than what’s already happening, so Junior steeled his courage and walked down into the basement.

It was partially finished, with half being a nice living room with some game consoles and DVD shelves, and the other half was where his dad kept the workout equipment. He always encouraged his son to join him working out, but he knew he couldn’t hide his boner while working out with his big hairy dad.

At the basement landing he saw that the workout equipment had been moved, and in its stead was some metal contraption with some foam tubing padding it. He recognized it as one of the cattle stocks from the agricultural college his dad consulted at sometimes. It looked modified, more of a cage with the door acting as a stockade. As a kid he remembered watching his dad put calves into this thing, room for them to stand but with a pull of a level the doors closed around their heads and locked them in place as the college students would turn them into steers.

He didn’t think his dad was crazy enough to castrate him but he did take a sweep of the room for sharp implements before moving closer.

“Wha— what’s that doing here pops?”

“Why don’t you get in it and see?” His dad was three sheets to the wind at this point, stumbling a bit but still moving with purpose. He got close to Junior, and manhandled him. Junior didn’t expect such strength from his drunk father, but with a heave he was thrown into the stocks.

He was on his hands and knees, more comfortable than he should have been, since his dad put a thick futon down on the hard steel bottom. With a squeaky pull of the lever, the barriers shut around his neck, locking him in place with his head sticking out of the metal cage.

“Dad, please, I’m sorry. I’m disgusting, I’m a pervert, but please don’t hurt me. I’ll leave, you’ll never see me again. Just don’t tell-“

His dad looked down at his tear filled eyes. He couldn’t tell what he was thinking.

“I put everything I had into raising you. I wanted a son I could be proud of, and I knew I could only get one like that by giving you the chance to grow and learn. I wanted you to be the best man you could be, but I was mistaken. I wasn’t raising at man at all. You’re a beast, a slave to your desires. You only care about that pecker between your legs and making sure you feel as good as possible. Well, if I can’t raise a good man, I’m going to raise a good beast.”

Bradley Sr. dropped his sweatpants, his massive junk flopping out and dangling inches from Junior’s face. His dad’s hog was huge, at least 8 inches long and thick enough Junior would only be able to fit the whole thing in his mouth if it was soft. His ball sack was the size of grapefruit, covered in fuzz.

“I don’t want you to waste your talents, son, and your internet history tells me you only want one thing. Hell I knew before you were online what you wanted. You think I’m stupid and I wouldn’t notice all my sweaty underwear missing? You kept stealing my briefs to jack off to ever since you could jack off, fuck! You’re so nasty I know you’re turned on by this.”

Junior stared at the cock that made him. His dad’s foreskin draped off the end and he wanted to worship it. He didn’t hesitate, and desperately reached out for it, extending his tongue to barely graze his dad’s monstrous cock. A pungent taste began to bloom on Junior’s tongue, and he noticed a flicker of disgust in his dad’s eye.

“Damn, I don’t know why I held out hope for you, but you made your choice. And that’s relieving, in a way. I know how to be the kind of father you need.”

Bradley Sr. pushed his musky cock into his son’s mouth, ignoring his throaty gagging.

“Get used to it, boy. Your tongue is going to get real familiar with every wrinkly fold on your daddy’s sack. Learn to love my musk, you’ll be taking a lot of it in”

Bradley Senior stepped forward, letting his son take his full manhood into his desperate mouth. Junior sucked his father’s glans clean, darting his tongue under his ridge and dragging it along the underside. He was about to swallow and clear out the gunk accumulated from his dad not showering when bitter piss rushed into his mouth.

“Don’t spill it, I’m not going to be changing your bedding tonight. I can’t trust you to behave so we are going to do some cage training overnight.”

He looked up into his father’s eyes. His dad could see cheeks swelling with his urine, but his gaze was completely blank. Whatever love his father had for him was curdling into something twisted; it was the only way he could stay sane after making his son eat his smegma and drink his piss.

He swallowed the acrid liquid, and his dad popped his cock out of his mouth.

“Well, now you’ve proven to me you’re beyond redemption, let’s get to work.”

The menacing tone scared Junior. He was completely at the mercy of a man who’s every movement told him he was no longer a person in his eyes. Lower than an animal, an object to be used at his discretion for any reason.

Bradley Senior stepped behind the stocks. Junior tried to crane his neck to see what was happening behind him, but he was firmly locked in place, head facing forward.

“I don’t know how you lured that thing in here, but it sure did a number on your hole, son. You got yourself a nice little gash back here.”

Three of his father’s sausage-like fingers went deep into Junior’s gaping anus, probing and jiggling back and forth. The sloppy wet sounds echoed in the basement.

His dad grabbed his scrotum forcefully and pulled them taut. Junior knew his balls were pathetic compared to his dad’s massive sack. He cried out at his dad kneaded his balls. Rough fingers squeezed his grapes, sending pain and pleasure through Junior. His dad clearly paid attention to the cock and ball torture binge he went through a couple nights ago.

"No beast of mine is going to have such a pitiful sack; you're lucky your old man has got grant funding to research how to make bulls better breeders."

Junior's confusion at his father's statement was halted by a sharp pinch in his balls. Adrenaline was coursing through him. He thought he peaked already from the weed gummis but he could barely hold anything together anymore. It felt like a waking dream. The squeak of a cart focused him. His dad wheeled in front of him a tablet hooked up to a webcam point at his backside. His dad had set up an IV bag, with the needle drip set into his scrotum.

"We'll titrate you up to a therapeutic level. Your first dose will be diluted in five hundred milliliters of saline, and we'll up that dosage later. I know you've wanted a monstrous sack like your old man." He dangled his hairy grapefruits in front of Junior's face, his tongue reaching to lick their folds.

“Enough of that boy. I’ll see you in the morning. Get comfortable in that position, I’ll let you out for breakfast.” Flopping his junk back into his pants, Brad Sr abruptly shut off the light and stomped up the basement stairs.

Junior was left alone in the dark, the faint glow of the tablet acting like a nightlight. He couldn’t move out of position. He might have been able to force the stocks open, but he feared he would hurt his balls doing so. In that dark room, the panic began to ebb out of him. Sure, the stress position was irritating, but the padded floor and foam around the stocks saved his knees and wrists and kept his neck from chafing. He treasured the smell of his dad’s musk lingering in his facial hair. His urine still coated the back of his throat. He thought about the morning piss that would be waiting for him. His thoughts were heady; giddy for the depravity his father would inflict