FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

The scorched sky looms heavily overhead as you creep through the rubble of the wasted metropolis. Weaving between the collapsing behemoths that litter the burning Hellscape, your heart races as you leap over the winding rivers of magma that snake through the ruins like veins of liquid gold.

The air is anointed with the sharp tang of smoke that stings your lungs and the mineral taste of stone dust coats your tongue with each breath.

Thus far, you have managed to elude him, but can sense him nearby- that swarm of dark menace that makes the hair on the back of your neck stand on end.

Towering on both sides are crumbling alabaster statues, their Grecian likenesses weathered by time and the elements. Even without faces, the featureless deities impose a daunting presence; and while one may think their withered stares should bring a sense of foreboding, for you, they do not.

One marble idol, your favorite- is battle-scarred with cracks and gazes down at you with a sphinx-like stare. Unlike the rest of the statues, massive bat-like wings sprout from his back and curve around his body. He's magnificent. You think him to be a portrayal of the fallen angel Lucifer, and you reach to trace his jaw with your fingers.

Before you can make contact, an arm wraps around your waist from behind. You jolt and squeal in surprise, and your eyes drift downward to see a large hand armed with scythe-like, golden claws.

It all but engulfs your own, and you feel the untold power that strains at his edges, embodying the shape of black fire.

'Inhuman, yet so warm, so strong.'

The evil radiating from him causes some unnameable thing to stir and uncoil to life in your breast.

"Found you, babe..." The husk of his voice, oozing with black satisfaction murmurs in your ear. "And I caught you first, so you know what that means; I win. And to the victor..."

He always wins this game. But only because you let him- the only advantage he holds over you is his immeasurable strength and acute sense of smell. Even on a bad day, you would have no trouble outfoxing him.

Still, it's more fun this way.

"Go the spoils." You finish his sentence.

A rough push on your shoulders forces you down, and the rocky shards of debris bite into your knees.

'Let the game begin.'

He circles around you, a stalking predator immaculately dressed in black; his crimson cape trails behind him like a curtain of crushed velvet, the hem brushing over the scorched earth; a stark contrast of luxury among devastation- and he carefully threads his fingers through your hair.

Your heart skips with a forbidden thrill- you love how he towers over you as you kneel, and how his hands that stroke so sweetly are weapons in of themselves. But he harbors a flame of beneficence for you, and trust that he will take care not to mortally wound you.

Ulbert Alain Odle cares for what is his, after all.

This is the game you both live to play; Predator and Prey- and at its heart is danger and temptation. It's laced in nitroglycerin, unstable and explosive, yielding a rush like no other, to know that one fatal slip of his blades or fangs can spell disaster.

He uses a claw to gently brush over your cheek, his tenderness belying his intent- he's fallen into his Dominant mindset, and his visible eye gleams like molten gold, matching the hue of the polished brass of his avian half-mask, as well as the frame of the clock adorning the beau hat that is nestled between the wickedly curved horns of his head.

Gods, he's sexy.

His hand then clenches into a fist and he harshly yanks your head back to stare down at you, his black lips curving into a haughty smirk to display jagged fangs, and the aggression in his gestures sends a sharp thrill peeling down your spine.

'Yes.'

He uses his unforgiving grasp to tow you further forward, and your eyes settle on the bulge of his crotch.

"You know what to do." It is not an insinuation, but a command. He then opens his trousers to expose his sleekly furred sheath, which is already swelling with his hardening shaft within.

'Oh, yes.'

Your mouth waters with anticipation and you reach for him to slowly stroke, loving the sensation of the protective skin gliding over the slick member inside.

He groans, and he lightly pets your hair in encouragement as your ministrations tease out the tapered head of his cock. Leaning forward, you swipe your tongue over it and dip into the slit.

Ulbert gasps, and rocks gently against your face. Your nails sink into his hips as you seal your lips around him and suck, causing him to rapidly thicken and emerge from his sheath. His tip fattens to form a spade-shaped head with flared glans.

You can see it, inch by inch, as the ruby length of his cock shortens, and the black fabric of his trousers closes in on you when you take him deep into your throat.

He slides in and out with smooth strokes, and you relish the way his shaft swells over your tongue and wet sounds of him fucking your face.

Ulbert holds your head almost lovingly, pumping into your mouth with soft little grunts and growls of delight that make your folds drip with envy.

It's a good thing he instructed you not wear panties today, or they would be utterly ruined.

"You should see how your throat swells when I'm buried in you... you're taking me so well." His praise drips down your spine like the darkest of honeys.

His hands are ever-moving on your face and his claws brush your hair back to gather your locks into a ponytail, and he uses the point of one gilded talon to cradle your chin, tipping upwards slightly. "I'm going to fuck you so hard," He vows with a menacing grin, his strokes whipping wetly in and out of your mouth.

You moan around his spear of his flesh as your body purrs in response to his profane promise, and a fresh surge of wetness drips from your open thighs, forming a little pool of desire on the burnt earth.

Never in your life, here nor outside of Yggdrasil, has anyone been able to turn you on like this. Is it his commanding presence? The devilish shape he takes? Or how he always knows exactly what you need?

You want to say all of it.

Ulbert grew to be the heart of your universe within the short span of a month, and you log in to meet with him every day after getting off of work.

Lately, he has been teleporting you to the Burning Temple within Nazarick, his personal playground.

"Are you ready?" He huffs, thrusting harder now, and you nod the best you can.

Ulbert withdraws, letting you suck in several sputtering lungfuls of air.

Demiurge watches with heated interest as his Lord displays his sexual prowess upon a female.

The Devil finds himself admittedly puzzled by his Lord's choice, however; in fact, he is equally as curious as he is appalled to learn that his divine creator has taken a mortal woman, of all things- an utterly inferior species, as his mate.

'But why, in all Nine Hells, would he select a human for such an honor?'

He is torn in a way he never has been before, and he scolds himself for daring to bring his Lord's decisions into question.

Ulbert Alain Odle is wise, infallible, for that matter- and Demiurge is adamant that if he chose her to be his, there must be a higher reason. Perhaps there is something special about her that he has yet be made aware of? Or maybe she is leverage of some nature, or he has ineffable plans for her? Surely, there is something that he deems worthwhile or he wouldn't sully himself or his domain by human contact.

Still, the Devil scrutinizes her with an arctic gaze.

She is donned in light armor. A layer of black and scarlet banded mail and a corset beneath her weak shell of protection accentuates her lithe figure and cinches a silk wrap that flows over the flare of her sweetly rounded hips. A row of daggers glitters about her left thigh, and her hair of spun gold flows freely around her shoulders.

A pretty thing indeed, and yet so utterly unworthy of his Master's words, much less sacred touch.

The human serves him on her knees, the only position the Devil finds befitting before his glorious Lord. Her long fingers massage his furred sheath, teasing out his thickening red shaft to reverently lave the length of him with her tongue, and Ulbert bucks into her mouth with a groan, murmuring praises. His hand of gilded blades rests carefully at the side of her head, controlling her speed and depth.

Demiurge cannot deny that she is indeed unusual, as she seems to lack proper fear of Lord Ulbert, and clearly finds pleasure in what she is doing. The typical human would recoil in terror from him, as they should, but this one not only holds her ground, but leans into his touch. If the demon could not smell her arousal, he'd think it nothing more than a whore's act for coin.

"I'm going to fuck you so hard," Ulbert growls, and his nostrils flare like a predator smelling blood on the wind. "Are you ready?"

She nods the best she can with his cock stuffed in her mouth, and he pulls her to her feet.

'Fuck?'

Demiurge has never heard this term serve as a verb before- only in passing, and typically regarding crude insults from Lord Peroroncino among his comrades. What is it to 'fuck?'

"Such a filthy girl," He hisses and crashes his muzzle into her lips. "...sucking me so prettily, like an obedient Pet should."

'Ah.' Now it makes sense to the Devil. She is not his mate, and indeed remains his inferior- she is but his consort, his plaything.

A human as a pet! What a deviously delicious idea!

He must have trained her well to be so compliant as to serve his carnal whims.

A moan accompanies his wave of heated desire, and without breaking stride at her lips, Ulbert allows his hands to wander, gently cupping the slender column of her throat with his blades, then lazily sliding around to trace the curve of her spine. She arches into his touch, threading her fingers through his gunmetal gray fur before closing them into loose fists as he deepens the kiss. His hands stray low to ruck up the silk wrap-around of her skirt and squeeze the creamy globes of her ass.

"Ulbert!" She breathes.

Demiurge feels a hot spike of rage pierce his chest- she dares to address him so formally! And yet his Lord finds no error in it?

"Mmm... you like that, don't you?" He purrs, loving how his name sounds on his lips, and he peels off a deadly glove with his teeth to tease a digit through the glistening petals of her sex. She wears no undergarments, which seems to please the Supreme Being greatly. Ulbert's eyes of Hellfire and hour-glass pupils burn into hers.

"Yes!" Her legs wrap around his waist as he lifts and crushes her into a crumbling pillar.

"I would say so," Ulbert chuckles. "You're so wet for me..."

She murmurs pleading words, desperate for more of his touch, and they gasp together when Ulbert then impales her onto the curve of his tapered shaft.

"Holy Hell, you're tight..." Ulbert seethes as he begins to move, curling his hips into hers.

He ravishes her, delivering his cock with hard, but measured strokes. She moans, arching gracefully, full lips parting as she gasps for air, breasts thrust forth in the most pleasing of offerings to his ravenous mouth.

The Devil's then heart drops as she raises her eyes to stare at him while his Lord fucks into her, and bites the bridge of her shoulder. In that moment, the Devil feels several emotions swirling in a caustic, potent mixture in his veins.

Jealousy of her position. Arousal. Envy of his Lord. Desire.

The Devil's blood heats at the carnal display, the Incubus in him riled beyond belief, but alas, he can do nothing as he watches his Lord whip his cock up into her in a brutal frenzy. He has not been given orders to move. The demon remains as still and rigid as the surrounding statues, but feels his groin throb as he internally fights tooth and nail to avoid an erection.

Amidst the dizzying sprawl of her moans and Ulbert's hard, animalistic bites, they rip away one another's clothes and armor, each article falling to the scorched earth to join the pile of discarded inhibitions.

The atmosphere is buttery thick with the scent of arousal, sweat, and pheromones; it is absolute torture for Demiurge's heightened senses. His mouth waters and his nostrils flare. Again, the female's eyes of striking cobalt blue peer over Ulbert's shoulder, and lock with his.

Ulbert chuckles, "You are attracted to him, aren't you?"

She gasps, abashed, snapping her focus back to Ulbert.

"It's alright, Pet, you can look at him. He's beautiful, isn't he?" He flashes his fangs in a wicked grin, and the Devil feels his heart swell with pride at his Lord's lavish praise.

Her lower lips snares between her teeth with a shy blush.

"My greatest creation to date. Though as not as powerful as Malphas, he is my definition of perfection; sleek, agile, calculating and exquisitely evil. I think I would be offended if you did not find him desirable."

"He is beautiful." She coyly agrees, and mewls when he grinds in particularly deep.

"Would you let him touch you as I do? Would you serve him on your knees like a good girl?" Ulbert rumbles and nips at her throat.

She hesitates, her gaze raking over the idle demon.

"Be honest."

"Yes..." She finally admits, licking her lips. "Yes, Master. He is you in so many ways."

"That's my good girl..." Ulbert breathes, his tongue tracing the shell of her ear as he fucks into her mercilessly.

The Supreme Being then casts a brief glance back at Demiurge."I think he likes you, too. He hasn't taken his eyes off of you once."

Her eyes are twin mirrors of blue crystal that reflect his visage, framed by the undulating, black flame that wreaths his form. Without breaking his captivating stare, he claims her lips with brutal savagery.

She's beautiful, obedient and so sweet- everything he has ever wanted. Shudders of pleasure rack through him as he drinks in her honeyed moans, his name whispered like a mantra and his own bestial grunts. She gasps, soft and supplicant even as her hands drift over him, her blunt nails raking through his pelt and digging into the thick pads of muscle beneath.

His mouth works over her tender skin, sampling her, nipping lightly at leisure. She loves the sharp of his fangs, the element of danger it presents.

He adores that about her- she isn't frightened by the inhuman features of his heteromorphic form; she is enthralled by them, by lethal allure, by evil, just as he is.

"You taste divine..." Ulbert bites with just enough pressure to draw tiny rivulets of blood, and he revels in her warbling cry. He chuckles against her porcelain skin, swiping his rough tongue over the freely-bleeding punctures.

Ulbert tends to keep the majority of the array of his carnal tastes behind closed doors, unlike Peroroncino who has no issue in being blatantly open about the extent of his fetishes and desires. Master/Pet is by far his favorite, although he also enjoys Domination and Submission, bondage, blood-play, knotting, and a/b/o dynamics.

Groaning in savage satisfaction, he savors the metallic tang of her blood and the heavy throb of her inner walls, her body taking the vicious pounding not only in absence of any recourse, but because she wouldn't have it any other way. She is exquisite in all aspects- his ideal submissive...

...and the love of his life.

He pushes into her ruthlessly; her back is sure to bruise as he grinds her into the pillar, testing the boundaries of what she can handle. Not once has she uttered their safe word- they understand one another completely, and he can gauge when she is reaching her breaking point; but he respects her too much to ever push that far.

The way they fit together is sinful- she's staggeringly tight, and his shaft pierces through her with long, thick glides. When he bottoms out, his mind blanks, wiped out by the completeness of her molten heat wrapped around him.

She suddenly gasps out his name, undoubtedly feeling the delicious stretch of his knot swelling inside her.

"You feel that?" He growls, pulling her down into the endless firestorm of his gaze.

She lets out a gasping moan in lieu of a verbal response, beyond words at this point. She loves being tied with him- to feel the pulse of his cock as he comes again and again, to be held impossibly close while he murmurs what a good girl she is for taking all that he gives her.

"...Gonna fill you to the brim." He promises, gathering her legs more securely around him as he continues railing into her with deep, steady strokes, and she wails in ecstasy as his knot finally catches- so full and heavy, locking him inside her. Her head thumps back against the fluted alabaster stone as her body involuntarily arches. Ulbert sinks his fangs into the side of her neck, knowing it is exactly what she needs.

His name is a scream torn from her throat, as the vibrant meld of pain and ecstasy launches her into the void. Violently, she unravels, her channel straining around his knot and shaft to milk him in a silken, throbbing massage.

"Hell yes, come for me..." Ulbert groans with another savage pump of his hips, just seconds behind her.

The sweet tightening in the base of his spine finally snaps and he bursts with a snarl, erupting inside her, the hot spurt of his release inhumanly strong and filling her rapidly.

"Fuck..." He swears and rakes his talons downward over the pillar, chipping away shards of marble.

Ulbert presses his forehead against hers, huffing as he continues to release stream after stream, and she clings to him as though she never wants to let him go.

"I love you." Ulbert whispers, and he nuzzles the side of her face.

"I love you, too."