FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

Hello! This is the beginning of a series that I'm beginning to write. Although the beginning is somewhat conventional, I'm planning to include a range of fetishes. Baby steps! In the meantime, consider this the blanket warning for a whole series that will soon include vore, male pregnancy and anything else that seems to fit down the line.

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He woke to warmth easing its way across his chest and struggled to remember where he was. Weight shifted across his thighs and something soft pressed itself against his belly. Somehow he found time to feel vaguely self-conscious through his confusion. Gently, he urged his eyes open, though he had to squint. Even the dim lights surrounding him were enough to sting. Although his vision was blurry and painful he could make out several small forms moving around him. One was positioned at either side, and what he now knew to be little hands made their way over his bare chest, explaining the warmth. More alarming, he could see a number of similar bodies mulling about his his thighs. Some brushed along his fur while others reached more boldly for his crotch. He sat more stiffly as a collection of strangers wrapped their small, over-eager palms around his balls and already swelling length. Others massaged his stomach, his arms and his shoulders. Still at a loss, he struggled through his words, asking the far too intimate crowd around him what was happening. That and everything else a sensible man would ask when waking to find a gathering of unfamiliar hands feeling their way across particularly private regions.

They didn't answer him, or if they did, it wasn't with their words. Small mouths closed on his chest. He could feel tongues parting their way through his fur. His left nipple was discovered first, though the stranger on his right didn't need much longer. They suckled, bit down just enough to sting, then suckled again. He tightened folded his arms around each of the strangers, finding that he could reach along the entire extent of their backs with ease. His hands covered each of their rears effortlessly. They bit when, out of habit, he began to squeeze. The strangers between his thighs followed their more daring companions only a few moments after, as the thickest of the lot knelt between his thighs. He watched on, more aware of his breath than any other sound, as the nameless little man swallowed as much of his length as would fit between such rounded cheeks. Slowly, he began to realise that his present suitors, if such was indeed the right word for them, were mice. Or they were all small fellows with rounded ears, at least. It was awfully difficult to see in the dark, and he found his senses had yet to come back to him in full.

Disoriented and uncertain, he tried to question the probably-mice again, though it proved almost impossible to form proper words. Slick, wet flesh closed snug around his length whenever the cherubic mouse swallowed down. Worse yet, the other mice still massaged his balls, tugging each orb up against the one stranger's cheeks and chin. In spite of all of that, in spite of the two nipping and licking their way across his chest, he still demanded to know who these nameless people were. It was then that he became aware of others nearby. Other mice, by the look of their silhouettes, short and round-eared. They stood from the far side of the chamber (at least he supposed it was a chamber) and made their way nearer. He watched as well as he could, but it had become so very difficult to keep both eyes open. He could faintly make out the one mouse's older, more seasoned features, though he may have been making assumptions. He was certain that the mouse wore a pair of ancient round-rimmed glasses, if only because they reflected the light.

He asked, "do you understand me? What's happening?"

The older mouse held up a hand. He thought he could make out a smile. All motion seemed to come to a pause. One mouth remained around his nipple while the opposite stranger raised their head. The innumerable hands massaging his thighs and balls all delayed, and even the mouse who had been so enthusiastically suckling along his cock rose away. "You are a tanuki," the older mouse pointedly observed as he adjusted the sit of his glasses, as if staging another inspection just to be certain. "A yõkai, though you wear the disappointing attire of the towns. Have you come to our mountains to visit old haunts?" While he spoke, the older mouse set his bare foot down on the head of the mouse between their captive tanuki's thighs. The rotund younger man offered little complaint, though the added weight did prompt him down a few inches along the cock just beneath him. He began toying his tongue around the tanuki's swollen crown again, drawing a stifled sigh. Once again, it became a challenge for the tanuki to speak.

Fortunately, the older mouse went on. "No matter. We have need of you. Of this," he gestured, drawing the tanuki's hazy sight down. Around his belly, the tanuki could see the older mouse pressing his foot down, forcing his subject to swallow down further and further along the tanuki's length. There was a brief instant of worry as the tanuki thought, surely the mouse won't be able to fit. To his shock, every last inch of his swollen length disappeared between the mouse's cheeks, 'til soon he could feel the little thing's lips pressed firm against his crotch. He was drawn out of his reverie by the older mouse, now clicking his fingertips to ensure the sex-dazed tanuki was paying attention. He smiled, though the smile seemed more of a perpetual feature, and he said, "rest assured, you need do nothing but eat, drink and enjoy these base comforts. We would not ask you to do anything against your nature. You are our guest, after all."

"Against my nature? I'm a travel journalist! This is all against my nature," the tanuki attempted to protest. He earned a couple laughs from the bodies pressed against him. Snug as they were, he could feel them jostle. Then mouths settled back into their suck-and-swallow motions around his nipples, and hands began moving across his balls again. A few of the mice who had been tending his thighs began to move down further, shuffling along as odd little shadows in the poor lighting until they'd settled down by his ankles. They massaged his feet and that of course inspired him to ask, "is this - are you trying to make me comfortable with all of this?"

The older mouse nodded briefly. At a sudden grunt from below, he remembered to lift his foot, allowing the poor mouse trapped beneath to raise his head. He only permitted for a short rise, enough for the mouse under him to breathe. Then he trod down again, forcing the boy to slide back down. Poor thing, his throat must have been bloated and sore, fitting so much into such a tight space. "We welcome you as we would a yõkai of your breed."

"I told you, I'm a travel journalist, not a spirit," the tanuki protested. "My name is Ito. Haru Ito. I write for Matcha."

There was a brief silence, save for the laboured breathing and idle moans of the two who had all but stuck themselves to his chest. Their small hands reached to the centre of the tanuki's chest where their digits intertwined. Then, perhaps signalling to each other through their hold, they both seemed to bite Ito's nipples in unison. It was after the tanuki's soft, muted cry that the older mouse spoke again. In as polite and patient a tone as one might imagine, he explained, "how you dress yourself in the town does not matter. On this mountain, you are a tanuki, just as we are mice. And we have need of a tanuki."

"Why? What's happening?"

The old mouse allowed his younger counterpart to breathe again before once more pressing the boy down with his foot. Ito struggled to hold back any noise this time, though he wasn't sure why. At length, the elder decided to say, "it would be easier for us all if we were to show you. Soon. For now, know that you are safe, and that we are here for your comfort. I have arrangements to make," and with that he at last stepped off of the portly mouse's head. The latter of the duo at last urged himself those precious few inches away from Ito's cock to breathe unobstructed. The tanuki found the mouse's desperate breaths more distracting than his tongue. The old mouse bowed to him as though apologising, then turned about and paced away. As he watched the elder become a faint silhouette in the dark again, he noticed more motion approach from his sides. The attendants he saw earlier, Ito realised. There may have been more mice outside. The attendants wrapped something, a blanket perhaps, around the elder's shoulders. Then, together, they unfolded the far wall and made their way outside, where it appeared remarkably less dark. And less warm. Snow.

Ito began to worry. He couldn't escape through a snow-coated mountain without clothes, much less without knowing precisely where he was. As the rotund mouse's mouth closed around his cock again, he began to wonder whether he wanted to escape at all. "No distractions now," one of the mice murmured, though he found he wasn't sure which. Teeth closed 'round his nipples again, then on came more suckling, this time rougher, more intent. Claws inched along his thighs and belly. He could feel tongues skirting his bare feet, and most keenly, he could feel the throat wrapped around his cock starting to slide up n' down, up n' down, up n' down, the rhythm impossibly needy. Mice massaged his balls, his shoulders, his - everywhere that he was aware of. Whoever had spoken before did so again, coaxing him. "No distractions. No concerns. Only this. Relax." He could feel an old, familiar tension building in his belly. He tightened his grasp around the mice beneath his arms, balled his toes only to feel himself catching a tongue beneath one. He fought against the urge to close his thighs and found his breath came haggard.

It was, without a doubt, the strangest orgasm that Ito had ever experienced. That he could come at all baffled him, as even now his thoughts rested mostly on his location and safety. His body offered him a few short, puzzling moments of relief as he flooded the throat of the boy 'round his meat. In the dark, he heard the chubby mouse shuffling about, coughing and sputtering. He could feel his own cum spilling across his thighs and had to wonder just how much of a mess he'd made. He'd never, ever had somebody toy with him this long, let alone six people (or seven, or eight, he still wasn't sure). He expected that the mice would move, now that it was 'over,' but most of them didn't even pause. Even the portly little thing who'd just choked on his cum went right back to it, licking away 'til Ito was nice and clean, then bouncing along the tanuki's length to urge out more.