FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

Oblivious

Anna watched her friend's reaction over the rim of her martini glass. The wolf hid a smile as the skunk's eyes went wide.

"Can I get you anything, ladies?" Jake asked. The horse stood dashingly at the door to the patio, a serving tray with several bottles on it in one hand, and a serviette draped over the other arm. He had on a smart-looking shirt and tie, and absolutely nothing else.

Anna bit her lip to keep from laughing as the skunk's eyes kept darting down to the horseshaft dangling freely between his legs. He seemed totally oblivious to his nakedness below the waist, and so the skunk's head bobbled back and forth between staring at the cock and trying to look him in the eye. "Um, no, er, thank you, I'm fine, really," she sputtered.

When Jake bowed and stepped back into the house, the skunk hissed under her breath, "He's naked!"

"Only partially."

The skunk, reeling from what had happened, downed the entire rest of her drink in one go. After gasping for air on the other side of her cocktail, she asked, "But... why?"

"Really, dear, if you were married to a piece of meat like that, wouldn't you want to show it off to all the neighborhood ladies?"

The skunk blushed in an adoringly sweet way. "Well, it's certainly making me jealous. But how did you get Jake to go along with it?"

"Oh, he doesn't even realize he's showing off for us."

The skunk stared at her, agog.

"It's amazing what a few sessions of deep hypnotic conditioning can do," she said and then added nonchalantly, "It would only take a few, say, after-evening drinks on the patio." Anna glanced down briefly to the skunk's chest, bared from the waist up to reveal her ample breasts, totally oblivious to it all.

======

Preparation

Alec had to get ready for work. The African wild dog tapped the waterproof speaker to life as he stepped into the shower, activating his morning playset. He had everything down to a routine and knew just how long it would take him to be out the door.

"Have to get ready!" the playlist chirped before the first song started playing. Alec spent the length of the peppy pop song luxuriating in the steamy water and letting it soak deep into his coat.

"Have to get ready!" the playlist reminded, and Alec mentally added "for work." The song changed, something a little less upbeat, a little more down-to-business. Alec picked up the bottle of soap and started working a rich lather into his fur. He spent the first chorus making sure to get everywhere along his tail, and the second chorus working over his large ears.

"Have to get ready!" Alec was already transitioning into working the soap back out of his fur, scrubbing down deep with a brush. The last thing he wanted was surprise spot of soap residue hiding close to the skin. The clients always hated that. Wait... clients?

"Have to get ready!" Right, never mind that. He had to get ready. The next song was already playing. Alec stepped out and toweled himself partially dry before getting himself the rest of the way there with a blow-dryer. He ran a comb through his fur to work out the tangles. His pelt had to be perfect, not a hair out of place. He had to look handsome. He had to look sexy. He had to look seductive. For... who again?

"Have to get ready!" Alec still felt surprisingly tired. His mind was in a fog. But he picked up his toothbrush and started working it around inside his muzzle, the same way he did every morning. The current song was a throbbing techno line, the pulse of it reminding him of the rhythm of fucking, deep and slow and hard.

"Have to get ready!" New song, still pounding techno, but there was a sway to it, a bump and grind that made the wild dog's hips roll from side to side. His mind still felt muzzy. His hands automatically dipped into a special oil for extra-lustrous fur and began working it gently over his face. Another dip of his fingertips into a polishing oil and he cleaned the bars of his nipple piercings until they gleamed, and then reached down to make sure the golden cage around his sheath was just as gorgeous as the rest of him.

"Have to get ready!" But for who, Alec found himself thinking. Even as his hands mechanically added a dollop of lube under his tailhole and began pressing in. He had to stay tight. It was very important to stay tight, so it took time to work his finger in and make sure he was coated thoroughly inside and out. All the while, the wild dog stared dully at his reflection, at the tiger-symbol on the cock-cage he wore.

"Have to get ready!" And Alec mentally added "for Master," remembering now who he served. He washed his hands clean and then sashayed slowly, mindlessly out of the room, naked except for his cage, ready to serve Master and His clients.

======

Driving Too Close

On the surface, there was nothing unusual about the couple wandering through the kink con. The Mistress, a snow leopard, was dressed in a Victorian gothic style, all black lace and frills. She even had a dainty little parasol held in one hand to shield her face from the non-existent indoor sun. Behind the snow leopard, pulled along by a collar and leash, was a busty slave vixen. She was nearly naked. Her large breasts were held out, uncovered except for a tiny bit of black tape over the nipples for "modesty." Her hips wore the smallest jogging shorts ever made. An older-model iPod hung from the waistband, leading up to a pair of headphones in her ears.

Nothing out of the ordinary. At a glance, anyway. But if you were to look a little closer, you would notice some strange things.

In most such couples the dom led and the sub followed. But here it was taken to an extreme. The vixen did not even begin to lean into a step until the snow leopard had already begun to move. When the Mistress turned in place, the vixen shuffled until she was standing in the exact same spot behind her left shoulder. The vixen did not even look at the various stands and booths they passed unless directed to, otherwise keeping all her attention on the lace-covered hand which held her leash.

And if curiosity caught you and you found yourself creeping closer, the next thing you would notice is the smell. The Mistress was wearing a woody scent of deep forest moss and wild berries, unique amongst the various leather and latex smells of the con. But it hides another scent beneath, the scent of a vixen in heat. Arousal is not uncommon, but arousal this deep, so overpowering that it would threaten to overwhelm your nose were it not for the disguise of moss and berry, is rare.

And if you were still intrigued and still approaching, the next thing you would notice is the sound. You cannot hear anything from the vixen's headphones. They are too well designed for that. But you can hear the tell-tale distinctive buzzing of a bullet vibe nestled between the vixen's thighs. And you can now see, the extra little rock of her hips, forward and back, whenever she moves, grinding on a shaft that isn't there.

But this, you could tell that the vixen, who normally does not move a muscle except when her Mistress directs, has one part of her that is always in motion: her mouth. She is whispering something, too low to be heard, too subtle to be read from her lips.

And if you crept close enough while the Mistress was preoccupied at a booth and the vixen was standing at attention, staring at the gloved hand and whispering to no one at all, you could just make out what she was saying. You have to focus your attention completely on her to make out what she is saying.

"Slaves have no thoughts. Slaves follow Mistress's lead. Slaves have no will. Slaves follow Mistress's orders. Slaves are always happy. Slaves are always horny. Don't you wish you were a slave too?"

You listen to the mantra repeated so many times. And when your Mistress's hand lifts and she begins to step away, you follow her lead.

======

Choice of clothes

Logan was not going to put the collar on. The raccoon knew Holly had hypnotized him, and he knew she had left a post-hypnotic suggestion in regarding that collar. If he slipped it around his neck, he'd become her slave. And that wasn't him. He was no groveling submissive.

But still the collar sat there, on the bed stand. Tempting. Calling.

Logan slapped his cheeks to wake himself up and went to take a morning shower. The collar was still there when he got back, whispering promises of a pleasurable day on his knees if only he'd slip it around his neck. Beyond the bed stand, Holly was still dozing away, the raccoon having pulled the sheets in a tight bundle around herself as she did every night.

Logan turned to the closet and let out a groan. Of course, they had forgotten to do laundry. There was hardly anything left in there. Swim trunks? No. A heavy coat? It was summer! He could have sworn he had left a few extra pairs of shorts out, and some simple t-shirts, but they were all in the hamper.

He could always just put on the collar...

No. No, no, no. He shook his head. He was not going to do that. He was not going to give into that trigger. He had a choice. Holly had left him a choice, and he was not going to be a slave.

The raccoon grabbed a few things off hangers. It was a bit more formal than he would have liked, but at least it was actual clothes and not just a strap of leather.

Logan stepped into the bathroom and started dressing in front of the mirror. Boxers on first, then some dress slacks. As he started pulling on the button-down shirt, he began admiring his reflection. He forgot how good he looked when he dressed up. Formal. Proper. In control. In charge.

Yeah, in charge. Not some collar-wearing submissive.

He felt an impulse to continue dressing, if only to distance him even further from the collar. He returned to the closet and picked out a few more items, before returning to the mirror. He tied the tie carefully, using an extra-formal knot he had taught himself when he was best man at his brother's wedding. It still looked good on him. Dashing. Handsome. Sexy. He could almost feel Holly's lips on his ears, whispering of how good he looked as her hands caressed his form.

As he bent over to pull on the socks and dress shoes, he realized he didn't just look sexy: he felt sexy. He could feel a heaviness of arousal in his groin.

Logan pulled on the sports jacket and again admired his reflection in the mirror. Yeah, that looked right. A strong, powerful, sexy raccoon looked back at him. He was no submissive. He was the one in charge. And he knew just what to do with that collar.

Logan stepped out of the bathroom and picked the collar off the bed stand. He crawled onto the bed and pinned Holly's sleeping form down as he wrapped the leather around her neck. That finally woke her up and he responded to her fluttering eyes by pressing the bulge between his legs against her muzzle. "Hey there, sleepy girl," he said, before she could formulate a response. "You're going to wear that collar and nothing else for the rest of the day, understood, pet?"

It took her tired mind a moment to process what he had said, but she gave a smile and nodded.

Logan grinned and undid his fly, fishing out his stiff cock so it swung out into the air above her.

"Now you're going to be a good cocksleeve and deep-throat the whole thing. I want a hard orgasm before breakfast. And maybe another one after." He pushed his tip to her lips and started easing his way into her moaning, eager mouth.

The entire time it never occurred to Logan that he had still fallen to one of Holly's post-hypnotic suggestions tied to the various clothes in his closet. To his mind, all he had done was choose to not put the collar on.