FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

A wet wind whirled across the balcony. Overhead came the infrequent cries of passing shuttles too few and far between to be of worry, but below was the quiet of the abyss; Over a hundred floors down lay the street, no doubt filled with a few middling passersby. None would see Kanno here along this superstructure. A single street of an ecumenopolis had more financial opportunities than the entire surface of most planets, and yet for a brief moment he longed for the warmth of the Vulpon's palatial pleasure estate, the roar of its artificial rivers, the give of its red sand, and the hands of its talented servants who could dissolve an ache with a glance.

Surely Raiko could not deny me a short stay, Kanno thought. His employer had been agreeable enough; It certainly wasn't standard procedure to pay a single credit before the work was done, and yet Raiko had given him an exosuit in advance. He'd been doubly insistent that he don it for the operation.

From foot to neck, the sleek form-fitting material caressed him like a glove and emphasized the curves of his slender hourglass form. The orange and white face of a fox emblazoned the suit's center collar like a diminutive smudge. Decorative streaks of purple light illuminated his livery in the midnight dusk. Kanno wouldn't have thought this practical if it didn't host a variety of security-breaching and safety features.

In the past he'd run a few operations against Raiko, kidnapped a follower or pilfered some data here or there. But with generosity like this he almost felt a tinge of guilt. Almost.

The task was simple: Infiltrate the server vault of a spaceship developer and retrieve the schematics of a new prototype. He was assured there were bonuses for additional data he could scrounge up. It'd been easy enough to scale the superstructure by the alleyway -- at least until the rain began to pour. With each crack of thunder and steak of lightning, he'd see his reflection in the tinted window panes that led from the staff balcony and into the R&D laboratory. Nothing distinguished the building from any other -- there wasn't even the hint of a corporate logo -- but Raiko had given him the address and building specifics beforehand. This was undoubtedly the place.

And the door was unlocked. Kanno smirked and fanned his damp white hair as he slipped out of the storm. Doubtless their security officer didn't think it prudent to lock a balcony door. Who would be daring enough to scale over one hundred floors in the cover of a torrential downpour? Just me.

The overcast gloom streaking in through the dark windows did little to abate the darkness beyond the seating area he now stood. A sofa limned with decorative blue stripes sat betwixt two larger stools, all backlit by a standby monitor mounted on the wall. Kanno's muscles ached from the climb, but he felt nothing except the beating of his heart. The decorative lavender glow of his exosuit was his only source of light as he slinked down a corridor with a guiding hand on the wall. He seemed to be passing a series of offices.

And then he came to the massive metal door barring him from the server vault, just as expected. Kanno ripped a built-in cord from the suit's wrist and blindly wrestled the jack into the door panel. The panel sprang to life. Doorjacking always proved to be a complicated and lengthy process. BREACH AT 1%, declared the text interface on his wrist. Suddenly, an image flashed by on the door panel. Kanno had caught only its colors: orange and white. BREACH AT 100%. The security access hatch welcomed him with a hiss. A data breach with a proper security door usually took nearly a dozen minutes. Something isn't right.

With a hand on his hip, he slinked into the dark as the lights sprang on overhead one by one. The server vault was massive. The ceiling loomed dozens of feet above and gave clearance to a variety of mechanical components, devices, molds, vats, kennels... and with not a single server to be seen. The only computer in sight was a simple access terminal built into the side of a stainless-steel operating table. Kanno blew a bang of hair from his eyes. The persistent roar of a shuttle caught his ear. Unlike the brief buzz of passing traffic, this sound lingered. It was a fox's face on the panel, he realized, the same emblem on the collar of his suit.

One glance down the corridor and towards the balcony confirmed his suspicions. His current employer, Raiko, waltzed down the transport shuttle's landing ramp and onto the balcony with a pair of personal guards. One held an umbrella, ensuring the fox's mop of blonde hair wasn't mussed by the storm brewing outside. I should have known there'd be more to this. Never trust a fox. The peaches-and-cream vixen whistled a tune as he made his way down the hall and into the facility.

Kanno feigned a smile and outstretched his arms. "Raiko! What a pleasant surprise. And here's a surprise for you: Your intel is rubbish. This doesn't look like a spaceship fabricator, does it?"

"No. It doesn't." The impassive fox listlessly scanned the room. "It was never supposed to."

What is he getting at? The answer came when Raiko snapped his fingers.

Everything below his neck solidified. No wonder this fucking thing was free. The exosuit Raiko had given him was rigged. It compressed around him, squeezing especially firm around the joints and forcing them to bend. It seemed to have a certain pose in mind. Kanno grunted under the pressure. His knees buckled. And then he fell to them.

"Cheap trick..." Kanno squirmed, tilting his head from side to side, biting at the exosuit's shoulders. Raiko just watched with an expectant glare that bore deep. "Just -- what do you want?" Against his squirming, against the flexing of his own muscles, the suit forced him to bend forward with his hands outstretched on the floor until he was prostrate. He was bowing down, head defiantly tilted back, his snout half an inch from brushing against the tip of the despot's black high heel.

"Finally. Some deference. Go on," Raiko purred, rolling his ankle to click-clack the heel. A toothy grin spread along his features while he held a hand on either hip.

With a tilt of his head, Kanno hissed. "Stop toying with me. Why did you lead me here? What the hell do you want? The suit? You can have it. It's hideous anyway."

His employer sighed and shook his head. Then he ground the tip of his heel against Kanno's lips. The lion spluttered and coughed. It tasted like polish.

"I want what you stole from me. My machinery here will help you replace it. I'd love to keep this equipment at the palace, but I'd rather not run the risk of having it used against me. But at least you made the trip easy on me."

Raiko nodded at his pair of guards. Kanno recognized them as members of the Foxguard. Whoever they used to be, now they were locked away in identical metal body suits with a vulpine motif. The pair flanked the thick security door and saw it secured. It hissed shut just as it had opened.

"I was surprised you had the gall to return to my estate after kidnapping my high priest. Did you really think I'm that clueless?"

"It was just a job, Raiko." Raiko maintained a ridiculous cult, The Sisters of the Fox, that worshiped him like a god. But he wasn't a god. He was an emperor of some low-tech mined-to-hell desert planet. At least their decorum had made the job easy. The priesthood was encased in latex, no holes for their eyes, their mouths fit with rebreathers. Blind and mute victims were easy to smuggle away. Or rescue, in this case. It was his former employer's son. At least he had been, until Raiko got his hands on him.

"It was a job you did not do very well, lest I'd never had known it was you. Fortunately I am benevolent." Raiko looked over him from head to toe and bit his lip with a lecherous glare. "It would have been uncouth to have a freelancer disappear in my domain. But disappearing on a job? That sort of thing happens every day."

Kanno didn't plan on disappearing. His hand was trembling. He could fight the constricting suit. If he could just activate the emergency disengage located on his right wrist... "I'm honored to have made your hit list."

"You should be." The fox knelt and delicately held Kanno's chin, tilting his head back until their eyes met. And then he grasped the lion's mane with a fist. "My worshipers may have lost their high priest, but you will do. It is time to make amends."

Kanno was half an inch away from the disengage latch before he was unceremoniously dragged across the floor, still stiff as a carcass. Raiko hoisted up his catch and placed him on the operating table. Limb by limb, he'd grasp an ankle, a wrist, and that section of the suit would limber up just long enough to be guided into a shackle at either corner of the stainless-steel slab. Kanno yanked back against the lithe fox, but still he met moderate resistance from the suit. Raiko's arms were more than enough to overpower the slender lion boy.

One of the massive machines occupying the facility slipped into place overhead with the squeal of poorly-maintained hydraulics. The spindy crane-like arm was equipped with a funnel that now hovered over the squirming feline. "Is this all really necessary? I'm gorgeous, I know. All you had to do was ask. Maybe I wouldn't have said yes, but I'd have at least considered it..."

For once Raiko was mute, preoccupied with the computer that seemingly controlled the room's devices. There came an industrial hiss as a blast of hot steam burst from the shuddering crane above. The trembling machine projected a concentrated blue line on the operating table, starting at Kanno's feet. The laser snaked upward and rotated from side to side, scanning every dimension of his form.

"Calculating..." rang out the telltale artificial voice of an AI assistant. "Percolating adhesive polymers..."

I'm a fucking freelancer with one hell of a resume. I can't go out like this. This is fucking ridiculous, Kanno thought. And it was even more ridiculous when Raiko squeezed his wrist, impassive as ever. The vise grip of the suit immediately dissolved... along with whatever material of which it was made. One moment it was slick and skin-tight as latex, and the next it was oozing off his fur like bubbling molasses and dripping to the floor with a release of white fumes.The ebony lion was completely naked underneath. A glance alone twisted the autocrat's austere glare into something more mischievous. Raiko was grinning, a single fang gleaming under the glare of sterile light.

"Enjoy the vi--" Kanno began, but then could say no more. The fox towered over him and had grasped his jaw with an iron grip and a handful of claws. His mouth was wide open... and it would seem to stay that way. At first there was just a sparkle of metal. But then there was the taste. Squeezed firmly behind his teeth, the ring-gag was locked in place. A lone droplet of drool traced his lip in its journey around his inviting mouth and towards his chin. "Grmph..." pouted the cat who flexed his claws in their shackles. He was used to playing rough -- even this rough -- but it had always been on his own terms.

"Good girl," Raiko cooed. He mussed Kanno's hair like a common pet's. "You look better with something in your mouth." His hand graced the cat's cheek and then slid downward, over his collarbones, until it reached a detour at his chest. A single finger traced the curvature of his flat pectorals, twirled around each nipple hidden under his glossy fur, and gave each a playful pinch and pull.

An uncharacteristic squeak left Kanno's lips. He was blushing. And yet all the same he shot the coy vixen a harsh glare.

"You're a magnificent catch. I'd dare admit I'm envious... if only you were better trained. Just look at the mess you've made." A clear silicone facsimile of a vulpine cock squeezed past the ring-gag until the base seemingly locked in place. Then the wide-hipped femboy cupped the base of Kanno's dripping cock with the same fragile delicacy as an overripe banana. Leaking a continuous tendril of precum, the half-turgid feline cock responded to his touch with a shudder. "Nhm. Does that feel nice?" Raiko asked and idly flicked his wrist. Kanno surrendered, curling his toes. It's not a bad start... "Unfortunately, The Sisters of the Fox are inherently chaste. This wily thing will be easy enough to lock away."

A bag of ice replaced his hand to chill his swollen cock. Whining was just the start. Kanno kicked his trapped legs and caterwauled. This was a more tortuous fate than any he'd felt before. An eternity in latex was more agreeable than another half-second of having his dick freeze off.

As Raiko took a reprieve to tap at the facility's computer, more gadgets and devices stirred to life.

"Subject-specific molding cavity on standby..." A slab with seemingly the same dimensions of the operating table cozied near the steam-spewing funnel above him, though it had a femboy-shaped recess. When the warmth of relief kissed away the chill between his legs, Kanno was too numb to feel more than a spectre of a touch as Raiko methodically examined his prick, which chilled seemed only the length of his own pinky finger.

"You know, the problem with being hands-on is you have to actually get your hands dirty." From the table's cabinet he had produced a heavy-duty steel chastity cage with a girthy and accommodating base. Kanno raked his nails against the table as the despot threaded his cock and balls through the ring. And still numb from cold, it felt more like an itch as the breathless cage wriggled in place like a rigid second skin. Yet there seemed to be no key to lock it. That was remedied with a delicate surgical laser. It heated the seam between the two components to weld them together with a decorative flourish. A weld certainly complicates things.

He tried not to imagine how humiliating it would be to request assistance in slicing off a welded chastity cage. Kanno coughed up a wordless retort, and Raiko answered by using the lion's chest as a towel to wipe the precum from his dirtied hands.

"Adhesive polymer liquification at 100%. Dyes infused. Awaiting confirmation."

The daunting recess pressed closer, hanging only half a foot above. If it tried to lock around him now, it would fail. Spread eagle, he wasn't aligned like the standing cutout. With another hiss, the steam-spewing funnel locked into the mold and the operating table rearranged his shackles; His hands were trapped near his wrists, his ankles now nearly touching. And then the mold pressed down. It seemed such a tight fit, Kanno was certain it'd crush him.

But it didn't. The previous scan provided his exact dimensions for the mold. He was trapped without a single millimeter of breathing room. The AI assistant dutifully updated Raiko on the procedure, but within his metal shell his pointless ramblings were only fragments of a mumble. A torrid heat claimed his abdomen as if he were standing too near an open oven. Then came a thick, pliable goop that oozed along his chest, over his chastity cage, and swathed his thighs. While he couldn't see it, he could feel it. The liquid was bubbling and he was bristling with it from head to toe. Don't breathe. Don't breathe it in. As the slavering machine drooled across his face he was forced to shut his eyes. Now the faux cock Raiko had plugged his mouth with seemed more favorable than before. At least he wasn't choking on the viscous liquid.

The frame squeezed around him now. Tighter. Harsher. Colder. As its temperature dropped the slurry began to condense into a flexible full-body latex coating. The bitter cold floundered away. The hermetic seal of the mold was broken. "Coating applied." Kanno could hear again, but he couldn't see. When he opened his eyes, there was only a sea of orange the same shade as the irascible vixen still standing at his side.

A pair of determined hands began to fondle his face. And then suddenly the silicone gag squeezed free and away, though the ring-gag remained. At least his mouth was bare and his nostrils had avoided the worst of it. It was hard to see what this had to do with his missing high priest. Had he undergone this same process? What was he now?

Raiko sighed in satisfaction. "You turned out nicely, I'd say. Though there is always more to do. I'm sure you're still mulling over some half-assed escape. We'll be fixing that."

"--umph..." was all the dazed cat managed to huff out. There was a new pressure on his ring-gag. Nothing ventured beyond it, but something screwed directly into it and encapsulated his mouth and nose. When Raiko's hands were gone a light weight remained. His lips were kissing something metallic.

It was a rebreather, a lightweight gas mask that covered both his nose and mouth. Breathable air wasn't the only thing he was inhaling. There came an unusual taste and a scent of lavender -- the same scent that Kanno recognized as Raiko's perfume. A slight heat suffused across his cheeks. Was he blushing? Why? An unwavering pleasure radiated around his trapped cage. And it launched like a rocket up his spine and then burst to the ends of his tingling fingers and toes. Kanno began to pant... as best he could manage with his new mask, anyway. Fight it. Just... Maybe I can hold my breath...

The fox's hand idly groped his chastity cage. It was covered in the latex-tight material as well and yet each teasing bounce sent waves of bliss rolling through him, powerful enough to make his toes curl. "I know you'll enjoy your new mask. No air tank is necessary: The rebreather fabricates a potent whiff of my personal aphrodisiac with every breath. Soon that lavender scent will be natural to you, Sister. Now, let's get you dressed."

Kanno could only feel the heft of his new additions as they squeezed to his form each by each. There was a whirl of gizmos and then something embraced his legs from the mid-thigh down and forced his feet to curl en-pointe. A sweltering heat passed as quickly as it had come, and with the relief of cool air did he realized he now wore some type of high heels. His arms were given the same heat treatment, though his individual digits were squeezed firmly together within the mold.

Once removed, the same homogenous mitt trapped each handful. A tightness squeezed his chest and null bulge enough that each pheromone-laced breath became more shallow by the second. And when the hiss of machinery pulled away, the constriction lingered as a permanent addition to his new livery.

Instead of muffled complaints, the kitten was purring to himself, sweating underneath layers and layers of molten latex. Something delicately patted his head while a stiff posture collar squeezed into place. A pressure stamped against the bump of his latex-encased chastity cage, and then finally everything was gone. The shackles released, and Raiko was there to hold the blind, huffing toy.

"There, there," cooed the vixen, "you look absolutely divine. Not as good as the real thing, but close enough..." From behind, Raiko sat the cat upright and peppered his layered cheek with delicate kisses. Kanno blushed. The aphrodisiac was getting to him. When the fox guided his mitted palms together into a prayer, Kanno prayed for his captor to continue sliding his hands over every inch of him. A hiss, a metallic clank, and a heat around his hands, and then it was done. Even through his gas mask, he could smell the all-too-familiar scent of the heated polymers. His hands were melded together, permanently trapped in a prayer. A pair of short chains from wrist to posture collar ensured the nun would never falter in her new duties.

The rebellious punk was helped to his feet. And he stumbled. High heels were not altogether unfamiliar to him, but everything else was. The fire in his chest, the need to escape, to rebel, was squelched, and replaced with something new: A desperate need for a touch anywhere, from anyone. To the blind captive it would make no difference who answered beyond the veil of orange latex. It would only matter that someone did. And that seemed to be his new purpose.

"You're even better than my previous sister. I'm glad you've given me an excuse to replace her, though I'm sure soon enough she'll join us again." Raiko's hand sunk deep into Kanno's derriere, and for just a moment he'd felt the cool touch of air brush between them. While almost everything had been locked away, at least his star was still vulnerable. A vulnerability that was abused.

A force bent Kanno at his hips. He leaned over the operating table as something thick as a rail began to prod at his rubbery ring. One firm push was all the lust-drunk slut needed to ascertain its design: It was silicone drenched in a heated, thick lubricant. More, please! Kanno moaned out, though all Raiko surely heard was a muffled purr of drug-induced pleasure. Raiko rolled the toy in alternating semicircles and with gradually more pressure.

Finally, the head slipped in and the rest of the toy followed until a bulbous knot was kissing and knocking at the lion's greedy star. His knees buckled, and he rolled his hips in need, caterwauling for cock, which Raiko patiently offered. Kanno's entire lithe body quivered in lust as he stretched further, taking more, and more, and more, until the knot slipped in with a wet squik. He could even recognize the shape: It was vulpine, though even the drugged plaything couldn't fathom Raiko was that massive underneath the confines of his conforming outfit.

"A facsimile of the real thing. You're sure to feel empty without it. Just like you should." Raiko purred in Kanno's ear and gripped his hip, guiding him upright and along. The nun shuffled forward sloppily, blindly following the guidance of Raiko's palm as the pair, flanked by the despot's guards, briefly breached the storm raging on the balcony.

It was time to go home.

Minutes changed to hours, changed to days, changed to nothing. Blind and mute, there was little sense of time and even less reason to perceive it. Kanno recognized the supple sand of Raiko's homeworld, and too came to recognize the ins-and-outs of its temple, the placement of its two-dozen pews, the four-and-a-half steps to its altar, the echoing click and clack that bellowed amid its yawning transept with every step.

The black lion was a lion no longer. The glossy latex molded him into a doppelganger of Raiko: a peaches-and-cream fox. He balanced dexterously on a sharp-angled pair of stripper heels seamlessly conjoined with black mid-thigh stockings. There was no sign of a chastity cage; only a bulge in its place, embellished with an emblem of a fox. On display, the base of his oversized vulpine plug. It popped with a burst of crimson and was tipped with loop and chain anchored to his perineum, ensuring it'd always be on hand after service. A stiff PVC corset emphasized the nun's perverted hourglass figure and was completed with a cleavage window. The quiet sister had no expression painted on his orange face: There was only the white underside of his muzzle, the gas mask overlaid, and otherwise a completely blank face devoid of identity. This was all topped with a simple latex cowl, all black and glossy with white trim.

The Sisters of the Fox gave no sermons, except for whines of lust muffled by their masks. And they needed no training nor dogma besides the constant burning need for release and the thrill of an unexpected touch or fondle. And Kanno was no different.

At the sound of a visitor, he would be there with his fellow sisters, nuzzling into them, whining, bending over and praying for release.

And sometimes his prayers would be answered.