FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

Smoke formed a murky haze within the confines of the luxurious office. Dim lighting and dark décor made visibility impractical amidst the swimming sea of grey wisps, churned into flurrying streams by oscillating fans that did nothing but stir the hot smog around the room. Every blast of burnt air that tumbled the wolf's way made his nose crinkle from the acridity, but Naveed had come to expect nothing less from a meeting with the mobster boss. Both he and his surroundings seemed as if they had been lifted directly from some faux noir fiction, right down to the cliché green glass lamps and the plumped, plush armchairs upholstered in glossy, sweating, bloodied crimson, for even they seem to swelter in the damp heat. Everything appeared stained from cigar smoke; what might have been bright wood was now left tarnished to ashen browns that may well have been black were the light a little better. The drab paint on the walls, somehow surviving the smoke, were mottled in dirty streaks that revealed just slivers of its original colour.

Where the mobster hog sat, framed on either side by a skimpily clad pair of boys who could have barely been in their twenties, backlit from behind by the harsh glare of an ostentatiously sized aquarium, he cut an imposing figure. He revelled in his wealth, in his filth, in the general atmosphere of power. He was clad in a tailored white suit that seemed three sizes too big, yet still upon his build it look stretched and bloated, double crested with gold buttons that matched the thuggishly big rings perched on his podgy fingers. His face was flattened, cheeks perky and pudgy, as he licked his lips around the chewed cigar as if starved, summing up the wolf before him as a potential supper to finish off for the evening. His tastes were nothing new to Naveed, he knew the boss's reputation well, and he could only pity the poor boys who cooled him with obnoxious palm fronds to keep him cool, stood there in nothing but thin linen loincloths, worth nothing more to the pig than toys to be played with when he so desired. No doubt they were being paid handsomely for their time and efforts, but Naveed wondered whether or not 'no' was a word in their vocabulary under the pig's command.

He sat uncomfortably upon the other side of the desk, his back to the door, facing down the slovenly male who satisfied himself with snorting down drags of his cigar, the stub pinched between two equally stubby digits. Naveed had opted to forego the uniform for such a delicate meeting, as brazenly waltzing into the boss's headquarters and right into his office for a one-on-one get together would not only rile his underlings but also throw his own reputation into disrepute back at the precinct. Word travelled fast in the city, especially when one dealt with the unforgiving grime of the backstreets. Information was a prized commodity, which meant it often came with such a hefty, unkindly price. But Naveed knew better than anyone that in order to get what you wanted, sometimes you had to get your paws dirty.

"How can I help you, detective?" The hog slurred, each syllable carried with the stench of halitosis, "What brings you to my lovely neck of the woods?"

"From what I hear, you got one of the Musky boys to squeal," for the pig, everybody squealed. One way or another, he could break them. It's why he was so revered by his equals, and feared by all the rest. Sooner or later you would give in to the Fat Hamm. "I wanna know what you know."

The male seemed amused by the wolf's bolshiness. But then this was not their first encounter, nor would it be the last, and Naveed had come to command a little respect from the pig for his self-assured confidence. Deep down he knew if he didn't assert some kind of backbone the hog would eat him alive, and he may very well find himself holding a palm frond and cowering behind him for the next victim to come striding through his door. The pig considered himself for a moment, as he chewed a little more on what was left of his cigar,

"And what's in it for me?" He raised one deeply threaded eyebrow, a smirk hiding on his fat lips as he knew damn well he had all the cards to play and the wolf was in the dark.

"You'd be helping an officer of the law," the pig snorted, a sharp grunt of derision, though Naveed had expected as much, "But I think you'd prefer the idea of eliminating a rival sex trafficking ring." The mobster hummed to himself, but gave little away. He leant back in his chair, the very movement accompanied by a painful creak of wood as if the furniture were crying out for mercy, until his swollen gut perched atop the desk's edge.

"I don't know..." He was playing it coy, taunting Naveed, pretending as if he wasn't prepared to make a deal, "Maybe I don't mind a little competition. Keeps 'em keen, if you know what I'm saying."

"Bullshit, Hamm, and you know it," the wolf felt a sudden surge of anger, frustration at once again being at the pig's belligerent mercy, knowing that without Hamm's help then his whole investigation would be for nothing. Worst of all, he'd be letting innocent people down. The Musky crew would get away with dozens of victims sold into the underground to serve as 'entertainers', so loosely defined that it was legally impossible to charge otherwise.

Naveed's outburst however had instilled a dangerously quiet scowl from the hog. He glowered at the wolf, without uttering a word, as he snuffed the cigar's end out in an overflowing ashtray. The sound punctuated the silence, a dying hiss of embers, as Hamm stared at the wolf with pinprick eyes, the only look a predator could give before slaughtering their prey. Though Naveed stood firm, he had rattled the cage of one of the most powerful and short-tempered men in the city. He was no longer sure how the beast would react. Every second was tense, and as stale as the air between them, which now shimmered with an altogether new heat that left the wolf's skin prickling with anticipation. He refused to yield, but for each second that went by resulting in increasingly dwindling odds.

Just when he thought he had overstepped himself with the hog, the brute broke out into a curious grin,

"You know detective," he chortled to himself as he lifted his tremendous weight from the chair, standing to his fullest height, "You're lucky I'm in such a good mood, otherwise goodness knows what I'd have done with your body when I was finished with it." Naveed swallowed, but he didn't flinch. The pig made his way around the desk with an idle trot, carefully pulling off his blazer from each swollen limb, buttons popping as if sprung free for the first time, "But you're right, I could do without those skunks stealing away my clients. I provide a luxury service," he hung the jacket upon a coat stand, unbuttoning his cuffs and rolling up his sleeves well past the elbow, the fabric stretched so taut the wolf was surprised they didn't just burst at the seams, "but naturally some people don't care about quality and go for whatever's cheap. I want to remind them that they either come to me, or they get nothing at all." Hamm began plucking ring after ring from his meaty fists, dropping them atop the desk until his paws were bare, bright, fleshy pink free of tacky gold. "It will cost you though detective.Dearly..."

For the part Naveed had dreaded from the moment he'd set foot in the office. The inevitable price you paid.

"I'll do anything," the wolf countered, as the pig sauntered up to him, fat paw outstretched to pluck at the lupine's chin. He felt his cock swell in his crotch, a need rising in him that refused to be staunched.

"Anything?" Hamm's amused smirk once more returned to his peeling lips, as he stared down at the wolf with those beady, hungry eyes, "But detective, what more could you give me that I haven't already taken?" Memories and feelings flashed in the wolf's mind, enough to disarm his train of thought. Countless times he had come before the pig and asked for favours, and countless times he had left violated and abused. But yet he kept coming back, over and over again, as if something inside him enjoyed the fleeting chances to suffer under the male. Any mention of Hamm's name within the department sent his thoughts racing as he smothered the all too frantic eager urge to volunteer to confront the mobster in any investigation. There was so little else the pig hadn't already claimed from him that not even his dignity remained.

"Anything..." Naveed breathed the word too softly as he gazed up at the pig, dark eyes drinking him in, as if they spoke to his very soul and commanded such blatant obedience from the wolf. It was mesmerising, hypnotic, all-consuming...

Hamm snapped his stubby fingers, and his two pets dropped their fans and circled to either side of the wolf. Both took an arm, outstretched the wolf to his fullest, and pinned him down over the desk with alarming strength belied by their size. Naveed struggled, thrashing as best he could, but the two boys had too firm a hold on him, and as soon as the pig stepped up behind the wolf with his mass, all sense to fight back dissipated, melting away as he surrendered.

"Good boy," Hamm snickered as his fat paws groped against the wolf's presented rump, tugging playfully upon his tail and already searching for the buckle to his belt, "You've wanted this for so long, I can tell." He pulled effortlessly at Naveed's pants, undressing him within seconds as his clothes pooled about his ankles. Exposed to the hot air, the wolf's cock thrust against the side of the desk as he was left naked, shivering under the pig's ravenous grip, "Such a cute pup, trembling with excitement, and already hard!" Fingers danced against his throbbing shaft, barely glancing the surface, teasing his straining erection as he remained pinned to the desk. "But that's not what I'm interested in right now."

Already in the back of his mind Naveed was conjuring up images of Hamm railing him from behind, pot belly riding across his back as he was bucked into hard with a foot of thick pig flesh until a snorting, grizzled climax where he unloaded a literal gallon of cum into the poor wolf's guts. He was so used to the abuse that he had become familiar with it, pacified by it, an itching deep in the bowels of his being finally scratched by the pig's impaling cock. However his expectations were usurped when fingers prodded and probed at the dry ring of muscle, playing with his rim as it puckered and flexed to every touch.

In order to get what you wanted, sometimes you had to get your paws dirty. Not his paws, unfortunately, but Hamm's...

The pig was truly a fan of grease, foregoing the typical products and opting instead for barbarising cooking fats in lieu of lube. From the corner of his eye, the wolf spied the mobster rifling through a draw, only to produce a garish can of shortening, popping the lid off with a satisfied flick of air. He had taken his rings off for a reason, rolled up his sleeves, as he dipped one paw into the can and scooped liberally, the pallid white solid mashing between his fingers.

Naveed lost sight when he slipped behind him, but he felt those greased fingers smear generously against his hole until he too felt as sticky and as slick as the pig had looked. There was nothing he could do as the pig's swollen digits slathered and pushed into his hole, lubricated by the grease, as they sunk inside. Now he was no virgin, Hamm had made sure to that over the years, but as the pig callously splayed three fingers into his feverish ass, Naveed squirmed and whimpered. It was too much too quickly, but his discomfort was lost on the hog who again liberally smothered his cheeks in more shortening, until the very fur upon his rump was sodden and oily. Hamm worked those fingers as deep as he could, knuckles smearing grooves through his fur, as he pressed and kneaded upon the wolf's prostate. His mind bled away from the thought of being too full, stretched to his limit, as fresh pre dripped from his cock, cheek pressed to the stained desk top.

Though for the wolf it felt like anything but, for the pig it seemed a casual affair. He squatted down, knelt upon one knee, as he eased his fists back and forth in tandem with each other, one replacing the other as he stretched the wolf wide. Three fingers graduated to four without Naveed even realising it, the flat of the pig's fists grinding against his rim each time he hilted inside the wolf's hole. His strength was insistent against Naveed's ass, as he pushed as deep as he could, as hard as he could, holding the force for imperceptible seconds before releasing, withdrawing, and then replacing. Hamm worked with such a mastery of his fists that it wouldn't have shocked the wolf to learn that this was no the pig's first time making someone open up to him. Fat Hamm, who took what he wanted and didn't take no for an answer. Fat Hamm the brute, the homosexual that every man should fear. Fat Hamm the violator, the debaucher, the pig...

He felt all too loose as the hog worked him over, unable to escape the oncoming slurry of greasy fingers and sweating fists. He had forgotten that he was being held down in captivity, he had forgotten why he was even there, as he lustfully moaned and breathed hard against the soiled desk. His cock ground against the pickled wood in a rough sensation that was the closest he could feel to pleasure, whilst his guts squirmed and squelched with such lewd farts of air as Hamm battered down against him. He was pressed as tightly as he could be to the desk, not an inch of room to buck in to as fists slopped at his gaping hole, shriller groans bubbling up his throat as they steered into the inevitable.

"Deep breaths, boy," Hamm snorted, as he plastered another dollop of shortening into the palm of his fists and slathered it against his knuckles, all the way to his wrist, even up his forearm...

Inside his gut was a tight knot of anxiety, which only tightened when he felt fingers and thumb press against his slickened hole. But Naveed did as he was told, consoling himself to long, drawn out breaths that felt ragged to his lungs, his trembles flickering through every motion of his chest with each inhale and exhale. It seemed enough for the pig however who pushed forward, hard with the power of his arm behind his fist, as pursed fingers and thumb pressed together as they slid into the wolf's hole. There was a strain, an uncomfortable tightness that pinched at the wolf's guts as he felt his rim expand to an all too wide size, but he had no choice but to grit his teeth and battle through the sensation, until the peak of Hamm's thumb slipped past the muscle. Natural instinct made Naveed's gut clench, sucking the fist deep into him, and when his hole failed to close tight around the wrist, it did the next best thing and suckled against the pig's limb, unable to expel the intruder, but somehow enamoured by its presence. Naveed writhed on the desk, sudden fullness and an inability to push back against the male's meaty fist coursed through his body, feelings abound he couldn't quite process, but he was trapped. There was nowhere left to run, no means of fighting back, just the unceasing pressure of something in his guts, an alien shape, sitting, slipping, squatting, just... waiting, until the wolf had exhausted himself into submission.

Hamm pulled back, slowly, crudely, as Naveed panted in shallow breaths as he felt the fat paw stretching back against his tight rim, pink skin gliding free from darker flesh. The pig withdrew until he was right back at that very point where his fist was at its most widest, where Naveed shook with the very effort of trying to push the paw out, but too weak against Hamm's strength of keeping his arm in.

He left it there, hung upon that pressure point, too wide to manage, but unable to do anything about it, as Naveed weakly struggled against the pig,

"Now..." the mobster breathed as his free paw gingerly stroked over Naveed's hard cock, "What would you like to know?"