FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

The following story was made for my good friend Scherzo because he won a raffle on my Twitter: PizzaTiger_AD

CONTENT WARNING: Gore, bone-breaking, digestion, oral vore, M/M, cruel predator, Somnophillia, Heavy alcohol usage, object vore. I also welcome any comments on these stories, especially critiques of my work. Word count of this story: 3006

A drunkard of a man haphazardly wandering through town, leaving the Red Velvet Inn, the green raccoon has a sour look on his face. His outfit had a grungy punk design, a white jacket, a pink shirt, charcoal black pants, and grey shoes, the raccoon sticking out like a sore thumb as he wanders seemingly aimlessly with a bit of sulk. The raccoon walks into another bar, the Cyber Palace. The building looks like a neon sci-fi dystopia novel with bright lights and needlessly complex signs with random Japanese phrases corporate advertising. It screamed pretentiously in its gaudy design, yet the raccoon walks in to see quite the sight. A gaggle of synthetic animals adorns the patronage of the establishment. Foxes, wolves, stoats, rats, all sorts of adults of different shapes and sizes have some augment to their bodies. Some had cybernetic arms, visors, legs, or bodies. The bartender is a green protogen, black visor, turquoise metal plating, orange plating around his legs with the icon of bamboo on the sides of his legs, a magnetic shark tail that flicks back and forth as the LED display on his visor displays a smiling face.

"Welcome to the..."

"Ya shut yer mouth robot, can ya get me a menu." The brash trash panda's voice has this Irish tone as he already leans back and forth. The protogen has a look of grimace on that visor. "I'm going to need your ID, sir." The raccoon gave a foul look slamming down his ID sloppily the protogen scanning it. "Scherzo, you are who you say you are...well, anyway, what can I get you..." The protogen watches his mouth open, realizing that he will be rudely interrupted again. "The strongest ya got bolt brains." That tail thrashes, nearly knocking over several glasses as the protogen holds his anger while pouring the rude raccoon something strong, all sorts of high percentage alcohol with soda. The muddy-looking drink slides to Scherzo as he looks down at the glass before shamelessly chugging it down.

The glass is empty as the protogen's expression as the raccoon is seemingly still wobbling back and forth after that potent drink. "I'm surprised someone your weight should be blackout drunk from that." A proud smirk hits his cocky face while he holds on, swaying back and forth more intensely back and forth. The protogen's face is a loading symbol while he thinks of what could get his rude patron drunk enough to be dragged out. "What's t-the hol' up ya tech nerd's wet dream. Loading porn on that mainframe of yers?" Another drink slides his way silently as a smirk lights up on the LED display of the protogen. "You have a funny icon on yer hips. What are ya bamboo or some other fuckin plant?" The protogen, seemingly surprised that his patron even cared about something like that, watching as he chugs down another strong drink.

The raccoon slumps down in his seat, seemingly finally knocked out as that glass slips nearly off the table before Bamboo grabs it. "Why my drunk patron, that is my name, not that it matters now." Electronically chirping watching that raccoon get knocked out cold from likely excessive drinking. The proto could tell that Scherzo had been bar hopping from his scent of other bar food and drinks. Likely kicked out or bored, it led to the protogen grabbing the drunk patron while a new bartender came in Bamboo's place. While the protogen carries the raccoon outside, a smirk crawls across the screen.

Bamboo finally gets outside as the protogen effortlessly hoists the foul fellow. Reaching a back alley after, he wanders off towards an area he knows that no one comes to, a place only Bamboo knows about as he lays down the racc. Scherzo hadn't even stirred during the entire trip, and it fills that protogen with malevolent joy seeing the annoying raccoon out like a light. Bamboo licking his metallic lips at the sight of his prey, the protogen moves down to those shoes and gives them a curious slurp. The flavor is oddly pleasant or perhaps so foul the flavor is addicting. The protogen is noisily chewing on the shoe, his sharp teeth tearing apart the cloth. The taste of those torn threads brings an expression of bliss to that LED visor.

Chewing on the shoelaces like long noodles, Bamboo chirps with delight as that succulent flavor rubs across his tongue. The laces are coming loose and getting soggy after each eager chew into them. Those gnashing razor blades of teeth tore the soft fabric asunder, holding up the shoe's shape. Spit spewing torn-up cloth into the rubber supports the sole becoming frail through the cutting blades as he sloshes it around in his mouth, that flickering tongue dancing the shoe across the vast surface of his pallet.

Not a single stir from the raccoon, the bartender could tell that his snack wasn't dead. Nevertheless, his eyes scan that body to double-check as his mind is somewhat uncertain. Then, he hastily grabs the other shoe and shovels it into his maw, eager to taste that addicting flavor. Scherzo's other shoe has those pools of drool layer on top of it as the protogen suckles on the shoe, eagerly draining out that salty flavor. That sea of slobber washes over the shoe as Bamboo idly gnaws on it curiously. The protogen removes the shorts of the racc shamelessly, eager to undress his meal. Noticing how the sheath bulges out impressively for such a shorty, he tears off those boxers looking down at that sheath.

Bamboo eagerly gulps down the slobber-soaked shoe as it tunnels down his bulging metallic throat, eager to eat more of that tasty clothing. He then starts chewing and gnawing eagerly on the silky boxers and coarse pants that Scherzo wore as an idle paw starts rubbing that sheath, almost as if challenging that drunken, knocked-out stupor. A machine couldn't display more sadistic enjoyment out of indulgent consumption of fabric.

Bamboo chirps with delight as that ocean of saliva in his maw pools around the boxers and pants, the musky flavor sinking into his circuits. He couldn't handle it any longer, gulping without a second thought that fabric getting absorbed for all the data and fuel it is worth.

Bamboo, feeling adventurous, gets on top of Scherzo carefully, trying not to crush the poor guy with all of that heavy metal on his curvy figure. His tongue slithers under that shirt, getting a good taste of that chest. Wet slobber flicks around the cloth and fur, matting it down with some sticky fluid from Bamboo's maw. It seems to steady the raccoon's breathing making him twitch slightly. "Oh, there we go, fucker, squirm for me, writhe while you can."

Scherzo seems to shift slightly but nothing in terms of waking up from that drunken stupor as the metallic tongue rips off his shirt. The protogen quickly scarfed it down that wet throat, gulping it with vigor to avoid waking his slowly shifting snack. Then, ever-adventurous, the protogen slurps up the jacket eagerly, that needy wetness pulsating around the threaded texture. His throat bulges out once more with the crumpled-up cloth as his stomach swells out slightly from the consumed clothing.

Naked, exposed, vulnerable, Scherzo's green body wistfully at the mercy of Bamboo's ravenous hunger. Despite the occasional twitch from his body, his body seemed to be in no rush to awaken him to the nightmare that was about to come to fruition.

Bamboo smirks as the machine cranes his head over the raccoon's face. His slick metallic tongue slithers underneath Scherzo's eyelid, that slippery metal curving around the squishy surface. Finally, the raccoon's eyes shot wide open! "E-eh!? What the hell are ya doing to me ya walking scrap heap!" The protogen seemed to ignore his waking meal as that tongue continued to eagerly slather around that eyeball, getting a solid taste of those juices in his eye. Thrashing violently, he pounds his hands hopelessly against the cold metal bruising them with each violent pound. The clanking of metal silently echoed through the alleyway. "HEY! Someone, anyone, help me out here! This psycho won't get off me!" Calling out to the night, hoping someone heard him. The quiet air meets the raccoon's ear as not a soul stirs through the infinitely black oblivion of the night sky.

He is wheezing as that heavy metal is now crushing him, perhaps upsetting the mechanical monstrosity gorging out on his left eyeball. "G-get the fuck off me! Where are my clothes!?" The metal squeezes his eye that agonizing pain riddling throughout the raccoon's head like having a knife stabbed into his skull. Then, with a sickening and slick pop, that eye comes right out of Scherzo's socket. Following a long wet metallic gulp from the protogen as that small lump tunnels down that greedy gullet.

The shock took a few moments to set in, but the raccoon thrashes more violently, screaming in anguish as he holds tightly to that now empty socket. Clutching and wailing the sight of man is a beautiful thing for Bamboo to see as that raunchy attitude is changing into a cacophony of violent anguish. But unfortunately, the torment had yet to cease for the poor raccoon as the beast in mechanical clothing pins him down and dives that tongue into his other eye. "W-what the fuck did I do to you!? Yer a fuckin' monster!"

Pain coursing through that voice and those screams as the tongue mercilessly squishes and squeezes around the soft bubbly ball easing it out of that socket plucking it out like a fresh grape. That ripe meaty ball tossed about in the protogen's warm and humid maw. Slimy wet squelching gulps follow suit as the robot chirps with delight, a bar that seems to indicate energy fills up. One empty slot left in that icon and the green raccoon will be the perfect juice up. "GAHHHH! What the fuck!?" Agony hopelessly clawing against the apathetic brick walls, the infinitely spanning darkness the defenseless man writhing against the powerful mechanical beast.

That tongue slathering across the raccoon's cringing face, the pain sinking in as his hands get bruised from repeatedly pounding against Bamboo fruitlessly. He stands up momentarily as the raccoon twists his body and tries to desperately crawl away from the oppressive force of a beast, only to bump his head into a wall. He is clawing at the air blindly, hopelessly searching for a way to fight against the merciless protogen. Hoisting him effortlessly into the air, Bamboo grins as his jaws split open once more, that raccoon's rear coming ever closer to that hungry maw.

"Let go of me, ya big hunk of junk! People are gonna notice I am gone, and they are gonna find out ya freak!" He effortlessly slings out more words that fall on deaf ears as his body shudders from the wet appendage against his rear. Scherzo can feel that horrid tug from his back, his body starting to bend forward.

That wet hard gulping noises ensue in the cold night as the protogen engulfs the raccoon's firm ass nearly as flat as the rest of that stick-like body. CREAKKKkkk that horrid noise of the raccoon's bones starting to struggle against the mechanical, warping it as if it were weaker than a twig. The agonizing sound of cracking as the raccoon's expression starts to drain of life no amount of yelling is going to save him now as his lungs begin to crunch under the sheer pressure of the protogen's mighty force.

SNAP CRUNCH CRACK that frail body of Scherzo's starting to fold down like a chair as it tunnels down that mechanical gullet. His legs press against his chest as the protogen tilts his head back to aid in the potent gulping. Those long dangly legs, along with his upper torso vanishing from the outside world, that motionless body soon just a neck bulge.

Bamboo presses his firm hands against that bulging metal squeezing and crunching his meat down further into his throat. That metallic esophagus compresses and undulates as it funnels down that lifeless body into that awaiting chamber that represents a stomach.

The sphincter yawns open for that crumpled-up body as it spews and fills out into the mushy plane of juices. That horrid slew is sloshing around that crumpled-up figure bulging out the lava-lamp-like gut of the protogen. The clothes of the poor raccoon hadn't even finished churning away into slosh as the stomach is extracting every little byte of data.

His stomach starts running a scan of the meal, analyzing every crevice and corner of the crumpled-up body; after a few seconds, Scherzo's body is nothing more than primarily junk data to the protogen's body. Likely most of that information of the rowdy patron was going to be deleted from Bamboo's memory bank no need to store needless data after all.

Corrosive waves spill over the fur, cloth, and eyes as that meal jostles around. Bamboo stretches out, letting out a big sigh of relief as he feels across the lumps in his stomach. The exuding fluid seeps around the bent figure as the mechanical system crunches further into that lifeless shape. The convulsing metal moves very much like flesh as it tosses around that mushy pit of mixed muddy bile.

Slushy as that worthless data gets mulched down for all it is worth. Meanwhile, outside of that active gut, the bulge slowly softens down as those bones creak and crack under the intense pressure of the inner machinations. Bamboo's lava lamp of a belly moving around to be quite the light show of a gut as his prey is sapped so viciously out of all that precious data. His battery fills up his body, finally converting some of those bones into raw energy, feeling it surge through him. It made the protogen hard once more, his cock leaking at the sounds of those snapping bones.

His hands almost dance across his metallic shaft as it glistens in the light huffing with delight as the breath escapes into the cold night. "Gnnh, you better hurry and up and finish digesting already; this is taking way too long for a runt like you." Pumping eagerly through every inch of that cock, his hands stroke that flexible cock as it throbs with need. All the action leaves the cruel protogen pent up as he starts humping his softening gut.

CRACK! SNAP! CRUNCH! The agonizing sounds echo out as the long-dead raccoon gets a mangling that not even those close to him would recognize anymore. Tufts of fur spew out of the belching maw of the robotic beast, his tail thrashing with irreverence. Each pump along that shaft brought that orgasm all the closer to that mighty explosion.

Like a violent volcano, the seeping hot liquid spews out of his cock. It melts a solid hole into the ground as his slobber spits out a mighty belch following suit. Panting with delight, his hands rub over his mostly soft stomach only a few lumps remain as that mulched-up meal propels out of his gullet in a wad of remains that his stomach deems unworthy of digestion. Thick clumps of acid bleached fur and spit, making a mound of green remains barely resembling the once rowdy raccoon.

Over, gone, dead; nothing remains but the protogen that grows thicker as the data downloads through his system. The protogen chuckling with a new voice in his arsenal, begrudgingly practicing a mechanical mockery of the raccoon. "Yer dead now, bitch. How do ya like it? Doesn't matter yer dead!" His body shudders as if revolting from the sheer horrid attempt, like every machination in his body halting him from effectively pretending to have an accent.

"System, delete raccoon_male_voice_53, delete my memory of the bastard while you're at it." Bamboo exclaims as ones and zero's flash across his visor motionless for but a few seconds before scratching his head in slight confusion as to how he wound up in this place again. The protogen looks at the ground to see his victim's remains and quirks a brow. Then, shrugging his shoulders, he sighs, grabs that mound of miserable remains, and throws it away into a nearby trash can. "The gross things some people leave behind." Scoffing before heading back to the bar having a strange feeling about that fur. It is familiar, the scent only for but a moment before assuming it is nothing insanely pressing if he can't seem to recall who or what it belonged to previously. His mind wanders as he heads back home, feeling far more charged up for a fun night. He found it strange he didn't remember eating much at the bar; he is full that belly having a proper meal of some sort scratching his chin rather cluelessly. The strange taste of alcohol hits his mouth as if he ran an entire liquor store across his tongue. The protogen felt a weird aftertaste making him think that maybe he ate someone again.

Eventually, he stops thinking about it when he reaches home, sitting down on the couch, relaxing in his chair, kicking out his feet, and watching some show about weird fleshy creatures that had emotions or something like that. He seems to use it as background noise, searching up his database, the thought catching his mind again, what exactly did he eat. Finding no trace of what he consumed, he must've had a rough time eating whatever it was, spewing out a thick tuft of green fur; the protogen smirks as it is the same fur he threw out into the trash. "Well, whoever the hell you were, I guess it doesn't matter now; after all, you are nothing more than biofuel." His hands idly rubbing over his groaning stomach, feeling hungry again, it seems that his little snack wasn't going to be the only person on the menu tonight as he stands up and walks outside.