FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

This is not my first inspection.

I follow behind the squirrely looking nurse as he leads me from the shower rooms to the staging area. Sometimes clients like to see us in particular settings as this can sometimes be the sole determining factor. All other services of ours are guaranteed by programming.

Staging room No. 45 is empty save for a pair of comfortable soft looking chairs. In my years in service I've seen just about every scene you can imagine from chaste dinner to all out hunter fantasy scenarios. The nurse instructs me to take a seat and my programming makes my compliance smooth and silent.

I sit in the otherwise bare white room waiting. I'm not sure how long I wait, our internal clocks are modified as part of the process. It's to insure our minds don't break on longer storage shifts. Some owners only pull us out on special occasions. In the back of my mind the base tape plays. My body responds to something embedded in me. There is the familiar and unavoidable falling feeling and an emptiness that starts as an itch in my stomach. I close my eyes and let my body do what it was created for.

My skin warms slowly, making the room feel cooler than it actually is as I try to dump off the excess heat. The temperature difference makes my nipples perk, the pink numbs hidden mostly behind thick dense black fur. My breathing deepens as the itch grows, slowly sliding down to my sheath. I've only been sheathed since my last charge, a modification my previous owner made to me. My cock slides slowly out of the plump hot tube, the length decidedly small.

Every nerve ending in my body seems to be waking up. It's an uncomfortable feeling, as if my whole body had fallen asleep, every limb encased in that irritating static. I grow harder still, my entire length poking free now. It's also not right, not right to my body and not right to me. My cock currently is only four inches with a cruel curve an inch before the tip. Unlike most cocks, mine doesn't have an opening at the end. Thankfully, they allowed me to keep it's human shape. My prior owner thought this would make me more submissive, if I were never let to release the ever building pressure.

Behind my eyelids my mind plays image after image, all of them dripping with sex. They are a mix of my own memories and those implanted in me. They come with smells and sounds so strong I often forget where I am. I can't help but part my maw and let out a low growl.

My mind screams at me to stroke the flesh which now is dancing lewdly in my lap, but I know there is no point. No amount of tugging at the flesh will give me the satisfaction I need.

I lift one of my foot paws up, letting my heel rest against the edge of the chair seat. In this position I have access to my tailhole. I slip a paw quickly under me, using two digits to tease what was once tight. Now, just another organ for pleasing my clients. I suppose, for pleasing myself too.

I finger the ring which has settled into more of a slit really. I'm already slickening there. More modifications made on behalf of my former owner. The itch in my stomach finds it's root, taking hold just as my digits press past the exterior and into that hungry depth. I moan out as the itch becomes an intense heat that each prod and poke at my walls begins to satiate, but only a little. I need more.

Two digits become three, become for at the tips of my paws prod at my very enlarged prostate. I swear I can feel some reserve, all the cum I haven't spilled in the last years gathered and waiting for permission more than anything. A permission my digits aren't able to give.

I'm all but thumb deep, my mind miles away from the staging area when the slam of the room door brings me back to attention. My eyes snap open on who I assume is my next owner. Programming doesn't allow me to stop, even as he comes in the room. Once the tape is playing, it's up to someone else to stop it. I still feel embarrassed, even though I've been walked in so many times before. Each time I feel some blood find its way to my ears, feel them redden and fold back.

I don't know if this is programming or just my natural reaction. I was told by an owner once that seeing a wolf, an apex predator, in such an embarrassing and exposed position was a major turn on. I continue the assault of my ass, average dick bouncing and begging but neither dripping nor shooting.

The man sits in the chair opposite my own and watches me in silence for a while as I work myself over. My embarrassment softens into intrigue as I take in his form. He's not unattractive. I'm fortunate this turn, I think to myself. He's tall with strong arms. He's not fit, but his body carries softness with an attractive ease. I want to plaster myself to him.

I can smell him from where he sits. It's the only thing I can't describe. His fragrance felt like a kick in the stomach. Familiar and musky and strong. Even though he sits watching me, I smell no arousal off him. It sparks a sad feeling in me that slows my paw but doesn't stop it.

"Enough." He says, a single word. His voice isn't deep or strong at all. It's soft and reassuring.

Being the only other thing in the room, I know he's directing his instruction to me. I comply, my sloppy slick digits sliding out. I don't lower my leg, letting my spread and twitching pucker remain just barely on display.

"Good. Responsive and quick." He smiles. "I'm your new owner." He says frankly. I give him a nod. It's rare to hear those words, even though that is the reality of the situation. He stands and moves to me, resting one of his meaty hands on my knee. "Relax." He says and my body complies. I take a deep breath and ease back into the chair. "Good Boy."

It's been at least three decades since I've heard those words. It makes my dick twitch. He chuckles a bit, noticing my bobbing member. "Eventually pup." He says in passing and then goes on.

His hands work over my body, appraising every bit. This is normal for stagings. Owners like to know their play things are pristine. I am pristine.

The body I have now is a solid 6ft even. Muscle cords it's way across my expanse, and over that a layer of soft fat. I was not modeled after body builders, my form more like one of those strongmen. My chest is barreled and wide and comfortable. My muzzle isn't quite as long or menacing as an actual wolf, or even my wolven counterparts. It's stubbier, softer. It reads younger, even though the modification process allows for a considerably longer life.

His hands explore and once satisfied he pats me on the head. "I think we'll get on well pup." He says, reaching down between my legs to finger at my tailhole. I shiver hard under his touch. "A few minor modifications and you'll be perfect."

These are the last words he says to me before leaving the room. A few minor modifications. This isn't my first inspection and this isn't my first owner. They always want something changed. Something customized. I wait for the nurse to return to lead me off to modifications.

As soon as I'm alone the base programming tape plays again and my body is moving again. I wonder what changes this one will want.