FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

For the people who live and thrive in the galactic underworld, a certain level of discretion was as mandatory as the air one breathes, for innumerable amounts of trouble was always just around the corner. It was, then, quite obnoxious to bystanders when someone decided to exercise exactly zero discretion, as in the case of Matt the Eagle showing off an aluminum case full of Units.

Let's go back a little bit.

The setting is Dorkin's. Dorkin's is a bar in the hot spot of the criminal underworld. Just deep enough in the planetary slums that nobody would waste the time or resources to clean up, but not so deep that it deterred the casual criminals who needed to find something that's not exactly legal. It was a favorite of those who frequented the black market, and you could find anything from a celebrity's used toothpick all the way to Marauder-class capital ships. If you've got the Units, you've got whatever you wanted.

As one could imagine, a place like this attracted many who would seek out crimes of opportunity. For someone who was just a little too flashy showing off their merchandise, or someone who was careless about the Units they carried. Once in a while, drunken patrons would also find themselves missing a prosthetic or two if they weren't paying attention to their surroundings.

It wasn't Matt's first time in the bar. He was, after all, a purveyor of fine artifacts and relics of ages past, and of devices of questionable origin. He had only recently made such a purchase, and today he was on the prowl, looking for someone who might volunteer themselves to test it. There was no real danger to the device itself, and he'd really prefer to find someone who'd fit 'his type' to test it out, after all. The shaft in his pants tingled with anticipation as he scanned the dirty bar for someone who might fit that very description, and that's when he saw him.

The infamous bounty hunter, Rocket Raccoon.

The technophiliac celebrity sat on a stool in the far end of the bar, sipping on a mug of black-god-knows-what, minding his own business, and probably scanning the pub for something to steal, if he was up to his usual shenanigans. Matt was surprised to see Groot, the raccoon's trusty partner, nowhere in sight. Well then. As far as his search goes, he couldn't have asked for a better opportunity or a better candidate. The eagle has had the biggest crush on Rocket ever since he heard about the raccoon's exploits on Lamentis-1 years ago, having saved just about every clip and recording he could find of the adorable fluff ball in his personal collection. Now would be the perfect time to add to it.

The eagle was attractive enough himself, and he had no shortages of confidence in his assets, both fiscal and physical. Matt beelined right for the seat next to Rocket, who paid no attention to anything but his own drink. Before the eagle could even sit down, though, the raccoon snapped at him.

"Seat's taken, buddy." The raccoon said, without even looking up. "Go drink yourself to death somewhere else."

That nasty attitude was undeniably Rocket's trait, alright. The abrasive greeting didn't deter Matt at all, though, as he already braced himself for it. He knew Rocket would be a tough one to crack, he just needed to take it slow.

"Oh, but I'm here for you." The eagle started, only for the raccoon to react immediately by placing his hand on the gun on his belt.

"Take it outside." The bartender muttered, as several other patrons laid their hands on their own weapons, as well.

"No. Not like that. Nothing like that." The eagle quickly back paddles, to which Rocket gave him a scowl. "I'm looking for someone like you, Rocket Raccoon. Perhaps we can help each other out."

"Cut to the chase, kid." The raccoon gave Matt a once-over. "Who do you want dead or what do you want stolen? And how much does it pay? Tell me about the pay first, actually, because I might shoot you dead if you're wasting my time."

"A cool million Units. How's that sound?" The eagle took the seat a stool away from Rocket, giving the two enough personal space between them. "Bartender, could I get a whiskey?"

"Hah! They don't have that weak Earth shit here." The raccoon slapped his leg as he laughed. "Earl, why don't you give him a shot of this grimey shit? It'll knock him right out, and then I can take his money and run!" Rocket jested, then turned back to face the avian. "A million Units, huh? What'd they do? I want to hear the details, but not because of the job - I want to know what the bastard did to deserve it."

"Like I said. It's not that kind of job, Rocket."

"You're flarkin' hilarious, kid." Rocket slammed the rest of his drink down, then wiped his mouth with the back of his furry little hands. "Alright, then. What kind of job is it? Tell me while I'm still interested in your Units. Wait. You don't happen to have any prosthetics on you, do ya, kid? No, nevermind, tell me about the job."

"Simple. I want to take some photos of your feet." Matt said matter-of-factly, doing his best to keep the tone all business-like. "I got the presidential suite at the Nebula. We go back, the shots I want, you leave with a million Units under your belt. How's that sound?"

"Hahaha! Get lost kid!" The raccoon laughed in his face. "A million Units? For pictures of my feet? That's hilarious! That's so hilarious that I'm going to blow your brains out if you don't disappear in the next five seconds!" Rocket grabbed his pistol and aimed it at the eagle's face. "Five. Four. Three!"

Matt stood his ground and swung his aluminum briefcase over the bar counter, then scanned his fingerprint to open the hydraulic lock. The case snapped open to reveal an electronic banking device wedged in shock-absorbing materials that protected it, on which the screen simply said One Million Units.

"..You were serious?" Rocket stopped counting and lowered his gun, his eyes scanning the device in the briefcase. It was authentic as far as he could tell. An external electronic wallet that carried units only useful if unlocked by the owner was just about the most secure thing he could ask for; it would be untraceable by even the most advanced tracking technology. With that cash there were a lot of things he could buy. "Well, why didn't you just say that from the start, eh?" The raccoon turned his stool to face the eagle, only to be interrupted by someone he never wanted to see.

"Finders keepers, losers weepers, Roc." A cyborg rabbit with mechanical legs invited himself to the stool between Rocket and Matt. "Listen, stranger. If Roc here won't take the deal, I will!" The cyborg pushed the stool further from the counter, then slammed both his feet on the bar top, crossing his mechanical prosthetic legs at the ankles. "Go on! Get as many shots as you want. I'll even give you a couple free of charge to sweeten the deal!"

"Blackjack O'Hare!" Rocket chuckled. "Please, you're embarrassing yourself! With that rusted thing? Nobody wants to see those!" Although Rocket didn't care much for the eagle's strange request, he was bothered by the sudden intervention from the founder of the Black Bunny Brigade and his longtime rival.

"That's some real last-century talk, Roc. These are pure Vibranium cybernetics!" Blackjack wiggled his metallic toes to show their flexibility. "I could stomp your skull in and these babies wouldn't even get scratched!"

"Yeah, yeah." The raccoon slammed his own feet on the bar top, showing off his soles to the eagle, who by now was just silently listening to the two of them bicker. Rocket pointed at the rabbit's metal legs, then at his own, and said, "Alright, kid. Look at those, and then look at these babies. What do you prefer? Cold vibranium clunkers, or these juicy, meaty feet?"

"Yeah, why don't you decide, cash man?" The rabbit spread his toes, as did Rocket. "Mine or his? Whose do you want for the Units?"

"Hey, no pressure, kid." Raccoon glared at the rabbit. "Here's a hint, though: mine are real, so choose mine and we'll go get you a fix of your fantasy; or choose his, and I'll FLARKIN' BASH YOUR FACE IN."

"Wait, wait. I've got an idea, actually." Said the eagle, as he pulled a flat, tablet-like object no bigger than his hand from his pant pockets. The eagle tapped the screen, turning the camera on, and then snapped a photo of the rabbit's metal legs. With a flash of white LED lights, it blinded both Rocket and Blackjack for a moment.

"What the flark!?!" Raccoon spat, blinded by the flash.

Blackjack, too, would have protested at the sudden flash of light that blinded him, but he had more pressing concerns. He felt his robotic legs twist and turn, transfigurating from mechanical constructs to flesh, blood, and bone; new skin stretched around his legs and wrapped itself around the muscles and tendons, then sprouted a set of new fur that matched the rest of his blue-ish body, albeit now the coat on his legs came with a silver sheen. "Do I want to ask what happened here?" Said Blackjack, who caressed his new legs to get a handle on them. They felt real, like the legs he had before he lost 'em.

"Eh. Simple molecular transfiguration; breaking a couple laws of physics and mass conservation. You know, Celestial-Tech." The eagle answered slyly, baiting for the two to take more of an interest and not just in the Units he could offer. "Want to see more? The presidential suite is waiting for us."

"You do realize now that you've shown me that thing, I have to steal it, right?" Rocket questioned. "No offense. Itjust must be done."

"Tell you what. I got a dozen other fun toys back in the room. Come with me and I'll let you keep one, in addition to the Units." Matt replied, dangling a carrot too irresistible for the Raccoon.

"On the account that you've given me Vibranium legs, I guess I could go check out your photoshoot." Blackjack wiggled his now fleshy toes, feeling every fiber of being that went into them, still amaze at the eagle.

"I'm not keen on going anywhere with this long-eared loser, but I suppose I got an hour or two to kill." Rocket slapped Blackjack on the back, making him almost lose balance. "Let's go. And I'm ordering room service. The Nebula! That's sure some fancy joint you booked yourself, eh, moneybags?"

The unlikely trio left the bar, while Matt had the aluminum briefcase in hand, holding the attention of most of the patrons as he exited the establishment. The Nebula was some distance away, given it was the best the planet had to offer it was in a different sector than the slums, which to be completely honest still wasn't saying much, since the whole planet was pretty much a slum, too. It was on the other side of town, which was a ride no matter if you took your starship or the magnetic rails, and either of those stations demanded a good walk. Outside the air conditioned bar, the air was hot and smoggy, humid as could be. Both Rocket and Blackjack groaned at the stickiness in the air the moment the air hit them, but the rabbit groaned a little louder. He forgot how easily he sweated in that kind of condition, given how long it's been since he had real legs. When he had the cybernetic legs, the metals acted as heat sinks. It was news to him to learn that his vibranium-infused flesh, too, absorbed the heat as it did kinetic energy, and his body was becoming warm rapidly.

When Matt turned to check behind them, he saw slightly darkened spots where the rabbit had tread over, leaving paw prints made with his own foot sweat. It excited the eagle as he loved sweaty feet that stinked of their owner's unique scent. It was already miraculous that Rocket Raccoon agreed to join him on this venture; but now that Blackjack O'Hare was here as well, it's going to flarkin' grand. He was in no shortage of Units, and if calling for a couple bottles of bubbles was going to keep them there longer, even flarkin' better.

Matt led the two down a longer path, taking advantage of the fact that they didn't know the local roads, just to get them to walk in the humid heat longer. The floor was clean enough, but the asphalt on the main roads were so hot that they were steaming, and the eagle could imagine just how their feet must be roasting. The rabbit and the raccoon, too, noticed how sweaty their feet had gotten, and tried to push from their minds how weird it was for some rich guy to come swooping down and offering them cash to do nothing more than take photos of their fleshy, plump soles.

"And to be clear, kid." Rocket broke the silence, "Just photos, right? Nothing weird, you hear me?"

"For a million Units, hell, do whatever you want." Blackjack added, intentionally one-upping Rocket.as per their rivalry.

"Just photos. Unless you change your mind." Matt chuckled. "Feel free to order whatever you want from room service." He didn't care whether the two bounty hunters ordered a dozen bottles or a hundred. It wasn't like he couldn't afford it. Besides, the real prize is stuff you couldn't buy whenever your heart damn well pleased; like running into Rocket and Blackjack, for one.

--

To the two bounty hunters, the elevator ride up the hotel felt just as long as the walk to the hotel. It wasn't the best the planet had to offer for nothing. The presidential suite was right at the top of the building, which was high enough to penetrate the clouds for a view of the stars. That, too, was nothing special if you've got your own starship; and Matt did.

"Let's start with two bottles of whatever is expensive, shall we?" Rocket ordered the waiting attendants. "Actually, make that four bottles. And get me some food. I'm sick of space glop. Run along now."

Matt shrugged at the bewildered staff, but then nodded his head and confirmed the order that the raccoon wanted. When he turned around again, the rabbit and raccoon had already helped themselves to the complementary confectionery laying on the coffee table, shoving one piece after another into their greedy little mouths.

"Nice place you got yourself, here, kid. Alright, alright. I guess I can stick around for a while for those photos." Rocket spat some of the crumbs out as he spoke in that untamed, mercenary way. "So, how'd you want this, moneybags?" The raccoon checked the place out as he chowed on the sweets, looking for anything of value to steal, for one, and naturally for traps. "Just a fair warning. If there's any funny business, I press one button and my crew will bust in and rescue me, so if you try anything, you're not getting the deposit back. Alright? One button, kid."

"Flarkin' relax, Roc." Blackjack shook his head. "If he wanted to do something stupid he'd have done it already. Didn't you notice? There were at least two dozen guards following us the whole time."

"Eighteen, actually." Matt admitted. "Well, I was carrying a million Units, after all. They wouldn't let me go alone." The eagle placed the aluminum briefcase on the table, and opened it again; then, without further questioning the two, Matt took the device out of its resting spot and pressed several buttons, transferring half the Units to Blackjack and half to Rocket. "There. Half the payment now, the other half when the job is done."

"Fair's fair. Let's get to work, then. What do you want us to do? Strip down and let you take photos of our asses, too?" Rocket asked, his hands hovering over the buttons of his overall, ready to do whatever the eagle asked now that he's seen the cash in his account.

"Nah. To be honest, I'm not interested in anything above your ankle."

"Right. You're one of those foot freaks, ain'tcha." Rocket teased, and nodded. "I can work with that. Yeah. Oh. Over here - here, yes. Yes!" The raccoon reached for the bottle of champagne from the waitstaff, then shook it up and popped the cork. "Hallelujah!" He yelled, then took a sip of the sweet bubbly nectar straight from the bottle.

While Rocket started the party, Blackjack took a modestly sized champagne glass and a seat on the throne chair across from the raccoon, crossing his legs at the knee to show off his sole to the eagle. It clearly did the trick as the eagle quickly produced the same device and started taking photos. This time, though, the flashes were much more mild, and nobody was blinded.

"Any requests, stranger?" Blackjack added, stretching his toes while Matt got on the ground for a better angle, laying on his stomach as he pointed the camera upwards to get the perspective just right. The eagle snapped one picture after another, adjusting for miniscule changes like light and shadow, and how to best capture the scenario of being squished like a bug under the rabbit's imposing sole.

"My name is-"

"--Less important than the Units, correct?" Blackjack interrupted. "I believe you'd find it preferable that we don't know your name."

"Fair enough." Matt replied. "If you could, perhaps, turn around on the chair and let your feet hang off the edge..?"

"You got it, moneybags." The rabbit climbed onto the expensive throne chair, kneeling on the silky pads as his knees sunk into the softly cushioned pad. As requested, he let his feet hang off the edge of the chair, steadying himself with the backing of the seat. He felt the eagle's hand touch the top of his foot, pushing them upward so that he was pointing his toes and his sole became creasy with wrinkles, giving them more depth and dimension than a flat taut sole. With how much cash he was getting paid, he didn't if the eagle wanted to touch his feet. Hell, pose them any which way he wanted, as long as he got paid. "You like it like that, ei? Want me to wiggle my toes for ya, moneybags?"

"..For a video? Hell yeah." Matt blushed, showing some pink on his cheeks. "But for now, would you mind holding still?" The eagle requested, again taking more photos of the wrinkles on the rabbit's soles. The rabbit's toes were slightly pinkened from clenching them, the plump digits looked as squishy as the rest of the rabbit's tender, meaty feet. The eagle looked as though he could devour them on the spot, with how appetizingly delicious the rabbit's curvy arches looked Matt licked his lips and gulped. Picture after picture the eagle snapped, making certain that they were of high quality and clarity. In only two minutes, the eagle had everything from a close-up of the rabbit's toe print to the whole of Blackjack kneeling backwards on that throne chair, each of his collection was focused on his feet, of course.

"I know that look, you horn dog." Blackjack teased, then looking over to Rocket who's just starting on his second bottle. It bugged him a little that Rocket was taking his damn sweet time enjoying some booze and leaving all the work to him; but whatever, this is the time to suck up to the client for that extra bonus pay. It's just feet, after all, and so what if the client wanted more? This was the easiest job he's had in ages; and for the pay he could take a whole month off and still drink himself silly every night for weeks. And it's not like he's never had sudden changes in his other merc contracts. The rabbit rationalized it all in his head. It's just a job. "You know, I wouldn't be opposed if you were to touch them. For a little something extra, of course." The rabbit grinned with his two front teeth showing, partly from the thought of getting another slice of that sweet Unit. "What'd you say, moneybags?"

"Yeah?" A drop of sweat fell from Matt's forehead as he stammered, his thoughts slowly fading from getting those pictures to something much more impure. No. Focus, Matt, the eagle thought. "Very.. very tempting, Blackjack. B-but I want these photos first."

"Heh. Suit yourself." The rabbit turned himself back the right way around as the eagle finished snapping the last photo, then as he sat on the throne again, all proper this time, the rabbit raised his foot to the eagle's eye level and sprayed his toes as far as he could. "I bet you wish you could dive into these sweaty toes, don't you, moneybags?" The rabbit chuckled as the eagle turned away quickly, but not before the rabbit noticed the blush on his face and the tent in his pants. The rabbit waved his empty glass for the wait staff to approach and refilled with another sip of the sweet bubbly nectar. "I'll be waiting right here."

Rocket, on the other hand, had polished off the first bottle by himself, and laid on the victorian love seat adjacent to the rabbit's throne chair. His head rested on a pillow leaning against one armrest, while his feet were propped up on the other, crossed at the ankles. "Is it my turn yet? Sheesh, hurry up before the buzz wears off! I can't do this sober!"

"Oh, goddamn." Matt whispered to himself. Of course he had been eying the raccoon's feet the entire way from the Dorkin's; but Rocket's ankle-crossed soles up close were even more attractive than he first thought; much more so than any other recording had ever done it justice. It's no secret among the galactic network of Rocket fanboys that Rocket's feet were one of the least photographed parts of the raccoon, whether he was on a guardian mission or not. Thanks to his smaller stature, the raccoon was often photographed with the rest of his much taller teammates, and to fit them all into the frame most of his lower half had always been cut off. There were a couple - extremely few in number, in fact - of media where the raccoon's feet had been caught on camera; but they too were not of great quality, with the main issue being a blur as the raccoon was always recorded either in a fight or when he was on a run after stealing something he shouldn't have. All in all, between paid premium content and other collectors (much like himself) there were perhaps less than five shots of Rocket's feet where you could see the details on them.

And here he was, closer to the raccoon's feet than he ever thought he would be. The black, leathery soles stole all of his attention; so much that he stood by the edge of the armrest for a solid minute, his eyes superglued to the raccoon's soles.

"Kid! Are you paying for photos or for starin' at 'em?" Rocket wiggled his toes, the sudden movement disturbed the eagle's fantasies and brought him back to the present. "Well. I don't really care." The raccoon snapped his fingers at the staff, who bought over a plate of something-or-another, to which he grabbed a piece and shoved it in his mouth, chewing loudly as his feet swayed back and forth. "These are pretty good. Get me a dozen of these to go, would you?"

Matt took a deep breath to calm himself, but that only made him more nervous as the scent of the raccoon's musky, sweaty feet filled his nose. They were filled with Rocket's pheromones, which excited the eagle terribly; although he wasn't sure why until the sight of the champagne bottle entered his sight. Matt'd recognize the pink label no matter what planet he was on. It was indeed the most pricey bottle on The Nebula's menu - because it was imported from Earth, famed for increasing one's libido with mythical ingredients such as red flora that symbolized love, a fruit that symbolized passion, and the grounded powder of a beady white precious stone that symbolized eternity. Matt himself had several crates stored away in his personal collection, of course, and remembered the nights of foot-filled fun he had with some friends - and recalling how that night went, it made sense now why Rocket's soles gave off such a delicious, mouthwatering scent.

The eagle lifted his screen to his face, then nonchalantly tapped on the settings until some sliders were seen. If someone stood further away, the settings would have looked exactly like the camera settings of any other smartphone - but a normal smartphone this was not. It was a top secret prototype developed by R&D owned by the eagle's family, and it was in fact imbued with some minor powers of the reality stone. Nobody really knows how it works, but the user was able to make adjustments to anything that appeared through the camera app. It brought Matt to his experiments. What if he wrote a camera app with pre-programmed sliders that wouldn't really do much to the photo, but had the power to alter the subject of the photo?

At first it was simple tests. Changing the color of balloons from red to blue to yellow. Then, it was filling empty glasses of water and empting the same filled glasses. The strangest were the tests on living subjects. Although it wasn't possible to clone living organisms with sentience, the reality altering powers of the smartphone could regrow lost limbs, alter physical appearances, and even cure diseases for which no cures were known for. Eventually, though, Matt was curious if it was something he could use to enhance his.. Special interests.

The options on the screen were labeled with a clean, easy to read text; the first five of which had a star next to them, indicating they were Matt's favorites: sweat, softness, sensitivity, musk, and control: immobilize. The eagle set the slides for each of the options to 1%, and then unchecked the box for immobilization, tapped on save settings, and backed out to the camera app.

Then, while Rocket was none the wiser, the eagle began to snap photos of his ankle-crossed soles. Nothing extravagant to start, but the eagle did make certain that the raccoon's face was visible - no, obvious - in some shots. With the raccoon relaxing, Matt took as many as he pleased: of the top, the soles, the sides, and even close up of each of the raccoon's toes. They looked long and thin from the top, but the undersides of the toe were fleshy and plump; proportionally similar to human hands. They were black and leathery, but Rocket's soles had a sheen to it, possibly from a thin layer of sweat by either the walk or the overconsumption of alcohol. In either case, they smelled amazing. Even from a respectable distance away, Matt continuously huffed at the scent of the raccoon's musky, sweaty feet. Compared to Blackjack, Rocket definitely had the smellier of the two pairs of feet.

"Now then, Rocket." Matt stood up, after satisfying himself with the dozens of photos he had just gotten. The eagle patted the raccoon's feet in a manner much like bidding him to move, but in truth he took the chance to feel and caress the softness of Rocket's foot flesh. His heart skipped a beat the moment his fingers touched those gorgeously silky feet. He was sure that his camera's tempering had something to do with it, but still. Rocket must have had soft, tender soles to begin with. "Let's move to the next pose, shall we?"

"Hey! Watch it, kid!" Rocket recoiled his feet as the eagle made the lightest touch. Strange. His feet were never that sensitive before. The raccoon swung himself off the couch and touched his soles to the ground, and instantly jerked his leg back. The ground was cold before, but not so much that it stung him.

"Sensitive, are we?" Matt chuckled. At one percent increase in sensitivity per snapshot and having taken about seventy of them, Rocket's soles were about twice as sensitive as before the photoshoot started. "Didn't know a celebrity bounty hunter like you had ticklish feet!"

"It's just the booze, alright? Don't start saying weird crap just because you're paying me.. For my feet." Rocket laid both his feet on the ground slowly, then winced when it happened again. He pushed it to the back of his mind, trying his best to block it out and ignore them, muttering something incomprehensible as he tried to drown out the feeling on his feet by making noises.

"Just kidding, Roc." Matt ushered Rocket to the dining table, where each seat was set with a plate. The eagle pointed to the table, then looked at the raccoon as he spoke. "Could you get on the table and.. Well, put your feet on the... you know."

"Oh man, here it comes. The really weird stuff." Rocket sighed, but threw himself on the table anyway. "Front or back, kid?"

"Mm. Lay on your front. I want your soles facing up." The eagle replied, taking a seat at the end of the table where Rocket turned around and laid on his stomach. It took a bit of adjusting for both the raccoon and the eagle to get the pose just right, where Rocket placed the top of his feet against the top of the plates, offering his soles up for the eagle's dining experience.

It was a proper placemat, with three forks on the left and three knives on the right; a dessert fork and spoon on the top; and then three more spoons for god-knows-what on the right of everything. Now, Rocket wasn't an idiot, and he knew Matt wasn't going to do anything stupid like actually cut into his feet, but being so close to all those utensils and having his feet offered up like a piece of meat made him feel queasy. Vulnerable. Completely exposed. He didn't love it, but grunted and put up with the feeling of insecurity for the same of Units.

All Rocket really heard was one click after another, from where he was he only saw the reflections of the white LED flash off the candle sticks on the table and the utensils of the other unused placemats. Photo after photo was being taken of his soles presented like juicy steak on the rich eagle's plate, ready and waiting to be tasted from top to bottom. Then, he felt the avian's feathery-light hands touch his feet again, jerking it reactively. Wait, was his feet getting even more sensitive than before? What was in the bottle of champagne?? "Hey! Hey, what the flark are you doing?!" The raccoon growled. "I didn't say you can touch!"

"How much?" Matt asked, before he could formulate the entire question in his head.

"What? How much what?" Rocket turned his head around.

"How much Units do you want? For the whole package." The eagle offered, keeping his hand on the raccoon's soles.

"The flark are you talkin' about?" Rocket retorted, but the increase in Units did grab his attention. "What whole package?"

"I'm asking how many million Units will it cost to do what I want without you complaining."

"No complaining, huh?" Rocket laughed. "Man, if I knew my feet were worth so much I'd have done this a lot sooner. Alright, I'll humor you. How's two million units sound?" He wanted more, but also didn't want to push his luck and lose what the eagle was willing to give.

"I'll double it. Four million units in total." Matt generously offered. "But no more complaints out of you, Roc." The eagle tapped out of the camera for just a second for another app. Seconds later, Rocket received a notification that he had received another million-and-half credits. "Half now, half later. We good?"

"Four million Units?! Flark..!" The raccoon felt dizzy. He had never made so much cash so fast. "Yeah, kid. We good. Do whatever you have to." Rocket muttered as he relaxed all the muscles in his body and slumped on the table.

Smiling at the successful negotiation, Matt picked up the raccoon's foot and crossed it at the ankle again. It was a pose he was rather fond of; and the way they were crossed now gave them more dimension, showing off the whole of the raccoon's feet. The phone in Matt's hand quickly returned to camera mode as the eagle snapped his precious collection of photos now that he had basically unlimited access and free reign; and as he pressed the button that triggered the shutter, the raccoon's feet became pinker and had more of a shine to them.

Rocket felt his feet become warmer, more sensitive even to the air. The raccoon wiggled and clenched his toes, feeling the sweat that slowly built up. Was the room that hot? No, not really. The air conditioning felt cool on the rest of his skin. It must be the alcohol, yeah. He did down a whole bottle after all.

"Roc, can I get you to spread your toes?" The eagle said as he finished taking the last of the close up shots.

"Yeah, yeah." Rocket grunted, but did it anyway. His toes felt every last breeze through them, and the raccoon shuddered. Did that feel.. good? Not only was his soles getting more sensitive by the second, but it had seemed the alcohol made him much more susceptible to the feeling of ecstasy, too. He shook the thought from his head and muttered to himself. "Freaky foot stuff. Come on. Think of the four million Units instead. Four million units!"

Matt lifted the foot that rested on top of the other ankle until it was at the height of his face. Rocket felt the eagle's hot breath wash over the bottom of his foot, and then braced himself for it. To the raccoon's pleasant surprise, though, the eagle only held it there for a few moments while taking more photos of his spread toes along with the shape of his toe claws before letting go.

"Hold it there for a second." The eagle requested.

Rocket blushed, because of how good it felt when the eagle's breath enveloped his foot. He felt shivers up his spine in the same way a particularly good edging session did. His crotch, too, reacted similarly. He was laying on his stomach, but he felt his shaft engorging itself on the raccoon's impure thoughts and snaked out of his underpants. Now it was jammed between his stomach and the table. His face ran redder when he realized how obvious it would look the moment he stood up; neither Blackjack or the eagle would miss the huge tent he pitched.

"..Flarkin' tease." Rocket whispered to himself under his breath. He tried to shuffle to a more comfortable position, but the slightest wiggle put weight on his shaft, and he let out the tiniest moan as his cock pulsed.

"I'm sorry, what was that?" The eagle perked his head up as he thought he heard something.

"T'ch" Rocket clicked his tongue. "Nothing, nothing. Just hope you're enjoying this." The raccoon stayed quiet for the rest of the shoot, doing his best to hide his stiffness from the other two. For the next pose, the eagle asked both Rocket and Blackjack to lay on their backs on the floor and lifted their feet up, as though they were offering a footjob. The one after Matt made a request to hogtie the two together, and after showing Rocket they were using only prop ropes, the raccoon agreed - until the eagle tried to bind his toes separately, which made him squirm as his now hyper-sensitive feet would translate every touch to one that's akin to stroking his cock. The raccoon blushed and gritted his teeth as the eagle caressed his soles and toes, to which Blackjack made fun of him for being ticklish.

Then, the three took to the bedroom for the next set of photos. Rocket's buzz had long since worn off, and with his head cleared he was certain that with every photoshoot, his feet became more and more sensitive. He had trouble walking on the carpeted flooring on the second level as each step he took tickled him. The fibers were tiny - thinner and shorter than his own fur. He didn't know how it was possible, but the raccoon suspected it had something to do with the camera that the eagle used. After all, it was the same device that turned Blackjack's prosthetics into real rabbit legs.

On the other hand, Blackjack didn't have any problem with the sensitivity of his soles. It had been so long since he felt anything below his knees, and so he was just grateful to even be able to feel anything at all. His fleshy plump toes took in every sensation the floor or the eagle's hands gave him, and his unique situation needed no explanations. "I'm just not used to my new feet yet, alright? What about you, Roc?" The rabbit teased when he caught the raccoon giving him the side eye. "What's your excuse?"

"Shaddup!" Rocket clapped back, walking with his arms in front of his groin to hide his raging erection. When they entered the room, they saw a large bed in the center - larger than a king bed, possibly. The eagle invited them in, and the two sat on the bed waiting for the next set of instructions.

"Rocket, I want you to lay back, arms behind your head, prop your foot up on the other knee like you're relaxing." Matt gave out the instructions more boldly now that they've gotten several sets done, and the eagle had gotten to know his foot models better. "And then Blackjack, I want you to lean your face and kiss his feet."

"Ha! Now that's what I'm talking about!" Rocket smirked, throwing himself back and posing for the avian, while Blackjack made a face. "Go on, kiss my feet, rabbit."

"For the money, moron!" Blackjack leaned in and put on his brave face, then placed his lips against the raccoon's sole and smooched, giving the eagle the kiss he wanted. "This is absolutely for your own personal collection, yeah, moneybags?"

"Nobody else will ever lay eyes on this." The eagle swore with his hand placed over his heart. "I'd like to invite you back another time for me, so you can trust my word on that."

"Oh, well then." Blackjack shrugged, then turned to face the raccoon's sole once more, kissing them with more passion and lip this time. As the eagle snapped away on the phone, the rabbit forgoed his inhibitions and laid his tongue on the raccoon's toes, tasting the saltiness and sweat in time. Rocket's toes tasted better than he had expected, and hell, for the sum of money he was getting, it was in his interest to get on the eagle's good side by playing into his fetish. He was a businessman, first and foremost, and cash is king.

"Blackjack! What the flark?!" Rocket protested, but didn't do much to keep the rabbit from smooching all over his feet, with lip, tongue, teeth and all. He, too, saw how much Matt enjoyed the scene, the camera in his hand hasn't stopped recording since the rabbit started. The raccoon grumbled, but soon the sensation of the rabbit's tongue lapping at his soles got to him, especially when Blackjack dragged his hot, wet tongue all the way from his heel to his toes. "Ack! Watch it!" He warned the rabbit, but Blackjack took none of his words to heart. The rabbit greedily licked as the eagle filmed, getting more and more into the scene as he spots both the eagle and the raccoon sporting a hard on from the corner of his eye.

The rabbit grinned, and inserted the raccoon's toes into his mouth, then let out a practiced, but extremely convincing whimpering moan, persuading the eagle with no uncertainty that he was into the taste of Rocket's feet. "Aah. So good. Heh. Roc, you sure have tasty feet." The rabbit said seductively, to which the eagle gulped and swallowed. "I could lick your toes all day and all night..!"

It was now Matt's turn to sweat as the scene played out, much steamier than he had first envisioned. He had underestimated his crush on Rocket and his elusive soles, and now that they're being painted with the rabbit's saliva, turning them shiny and glossy, the eagle's heart is about to blow out of his chest.

"..Flark it!" Matt ditched the camera, and grabbed Rocket's yet un-licked foot. He brought it to his face, and squished the tender foot flesh into his cheek, taking deep whiffs and moaning in between lungfuls of the raccoon's scent. "Oh god, this is better than I thought!" The eagle let out a guttural groan, deeply satisfied to be face-to-feet with his idol.

"Shiet. Slow down, kid!" Rocket was yanked from the pillow, but he allowed the eagle to act out his fantasy. With the rabbit and the eagle at his feet, licking the whole length up and down, suckling on his toes and licking between his plump toes, though, Rocket's shaft was now fully erect. The raccoon pulled the side of the sheet over himself, covering and hiding his immodesty, but the two at his feet were much too occupied to care. "Well, I thought it was about time." Rocket teased, wiggling his toes and trying to grab the eagle's beak with them. "Yeah, couldn't hold back all that foot freakiness, can you, kid?"

"Flark.. This is incredible!" Matt's eyes rolled back until only the whites of his eyes were seen, and the eagle sighed with a purr. "Awwhhhhh!" He took another breath of the raccoon's sweaty feet that smelled of the raccoon's ambiguous masculinity. The scent was sharp and edgy when he inhaled from directly between Rocket's big and second toe, just like the raccoon's normally sarcastic and cutting personality.

While Blackjack was just happy to oblige his client and fuck with Rocket as a bonus, he couldn't help but be turned on now that he saw how in love the eagle was with Rocket's feet. It was some of the hottest love-making he had ever seen, and they weren't even having proper sex. When the eagle wanted more, though, the rabbit happily let go of the foot he had licked clean and allowed his client to take both, pressing them together roughly, and then rubbing himself in the crotch with it.

"Flark..! Flark!" Matt moaned, his brain unable to comprehend anything else in the moment. He thought he had to say something just to hear himself, just to make sure he was still conscious from the overwhelming pleasure and bliss. "Oh, flark!"

"Okay, no, keep the ugly pants on!" Rocket protested again as the eagle lowered his pants, freeing his own shaft from the confines. The raccoon groaned loudly. He was borderline okay with his feet being licked, and this was a little too far, a little too fast for him, especially so when his feet felt like it was four times more receptive than usual. He hadn't known that from the hundreds of pictures that the eagle took, they accurately were about five and a half times more responsive than normal, and in technical terms it'd be categorized as ultra-sensitive. "Aw, come on! Don't touch me with.. With that!" The raccoon complained as the eagle thrusted his shaft between the raccoon's inward facing soles, sandwiching the eagle's cock in every direction. The saliva that still clung onto the raccoon's feet acted as lubricant, giving the eagle a frictionless glide with each pump. Then, something else unexpected happened. Rocket began to feel like his cock was being stroked as his feet were fucked; each thrust into his soles translated the sensation to ecstasy in his brain. "Oh flark, why does that.. Feel good?! Oh flark, flark!"

The raccoon moaned deeply as he inhaled and exhaled the heavy air in him. He was confused. He had never felt like this, ever. His overalls were already stained with wet spots around his groin, and all that had happened was he had his feet licked and now used as the eagle's masturbation toy. Rocket knew in his head how wrong it all was, but he couldn't help but completely cave into the pleasure presented to him within seconds. He didn't want it to stop until he exploded.

"Hold it, moneybags!" Blackjack interrupted, pulling the eagle away from the raccoon.

"Flarkin' tease..! Ugh!" Rocket complained and let out a whine of frustration as he was blue-balled by the blue rabbit.

"My turn, Roc. I'll show you how much better I am at this!" The rabbit put both his soles up and waited for the eagle to insert his shaft between them, then sandwiched the eagle's shaft in his feet. The rabbit's feet felt firm, like the silicone of a brand new fleshlight. "Yeah..! How'd you like that, moneybags?" Blackjack teased and taunted as he began to stroke the eagle's cock. "How's it feel to take the virginity of my feet?"

"Oh flark!" Was all the eagle could reply with. The rabbit's vibranium-infused foot flesh held his cock tightly, squeezing his feet together as he pumped the avian's tool. His prick throbbed wildly, squirting load after load of clear, sticky precum as though he had an infinite, inexhaustible supply of it. His juices lubricated the rabbit's soles, allowing Blackjack to work faster and faster, delivering unto him unmatched, peerless pleasure. The rabbit, too, felt the heat in him grow warmer and the fire in his crotch burn as he stroked the length of the eagle's shaft, becoming aroused by the incomprehensible act. Like Rocket, Blackjack had never been into feet; either his own or anyone else's. Today marked a new chapter, or perhaps awakened one that deeply slumbered in him. It didn't matter which it was as much as the fact that he had now begun to enjoy it.

"Stop! Stop!" Rocket growled, pulling the rabbit away from the eagle's feet just as the eagle was going to climax. The eagle had a sour look on his face as he was halted from reaching his orgasm, but then his curiosity got the better of him as Rocket stripped his overalls off and waved for Blackjack and himself to do the same. "Trust me, it can be so much better." Rocket teased, then taking his left foot, he put it sole-to-sole to Blackjack's right foot. The raccoon embraced the rabbit's upper body and put his face to the rabbit's mouth, kissing him deeply, putting his tongue inside the rabbit's maw as the two moaned and made out for the eagle's benefit, while offering him the fuck-hole they formed with the arches of their feet. "Go on - mmwhh." Rocket said suggestively, without breaking the kiss from Blackjack, and rubbing their cocks together between their stomachs. "Put it in there, kid. Go on. You know you want to..!"

The invitation came only a single second sooner than when Matt would have lost control and dove into it. The eagle slipped his shaft between the two soles, dropped his jaw, and let out a heavy moan. The feeling of having Rocket's soft, buttery smooth, tender and juicy sole pressing against his cock on one side while Blackjack's firm, unyielding sole on the other side was as close to heaven as the eagle could ever be. He thrusted, pumped, and grinded as deep into those soles as he could; and then when he opened his eyes again, the sight of Rocket making out with Blackjack just about pushed him over the edge.

"Aahnck!" Matt let out a primordial, bestial shriek, like that of his ancestors millions of years ago, just as he was seconds away from the climax. "I want to cum.. To cum on... aah.. Your..!" The eagle gasped, whining, making sounds from his throat that was inaudibly, but the rabbit and the raccoon understood what he wanted. They turned just enough to support themselves as both of them lifted their soles up, lining up their toes next to each other, ready to receive and catch the eagle's climax where he could see it.

"Go on. Release your load!" Blackjack teased, wiggling and fanning his toes, clenching and curling his digits, enticing the eagle, pulling him, tipping him over his edge. "Get it all over my feet, moneybags!"

"Oh, flark!" Rocket was at a sudden loss of words as he was in his own world. "Is my feet the best you ever had, or what? Show me how much you love my soles, kid!"

And then he felt it. The orgasm that he had been chasing after his whole life. It was here.

The eagle rubbed the head of his cock across the rabbit and the raccoon's toes, feeling the texture of their toe pads as he pressed it into their foot flesh. And then he was ready. He aimed his cock at their toes, and released his seed like a firehost, blasting the sticky whiteness directly into, between, and under their wiggling, sprayed digits. Shot after shot after shot the eagle unloaded, each one with just as much ferocity as the last, until all of it drizzled and ran over the edge of their feet, but not before covering every inch of all four soles with the avian's virile juices.

"Oh.. FLARK!" Matt screamed, as the last drops of his seed escaped his cock and dripped over the raccoon's waiting toes. "Oh, incredible..! That was incredible..!" The eagle hunched forward and propped himself up on the bed, completely drained of his seed and energy.

"Oh, flark. I can't believe I'm asking this, but, uh. Blackjack. Can you tend to mine?" Rocket presented his cummy soles to the rabbit, his exposed erection, too, was leaking like a floodgate had opened. When the rabbit silently turned and offered the raccoon his own soles, Rocket took them in hand and nodded. "Deal."

Then what followed was absolutely, infinitesimally beyond Matt's calculations. The rabbit stuck his tongue out, just as the raccoon did, and licked at each other's cum covered soles. What's more was that both were into it, just as much as Matt was into their feet. While Rocket started at the rabbit's toes, Blackjack licked the raccoon's feet from bottom to top, licking up all of Matt's seed from the heel of the raccoon's feet all the way to the raccoon's adorable, plushy toes. Despite the heavy load and the eagle's strong flavors, neither had a word to complain until both sets of feet were licked clean.

Rocket returned Blackjack's earlier courtesy by planting kisses all over the rabbit's vibranium-infused soles, his lips trailing, kissing, nibbling, sucking on every bit of the rabbit's firm soles and toes as he went up and down the length of it. As he licked, he noticed the rabbit's shaft bounce and throb, as did his own when the rabbit extended the favor. Just as Blackjack's tongue slipped itself between the raccoon's toes, licking and slurping them of the raccoon's personal musk, sweat, and taste, Rocket felt he was close, too.

"Aah.. Blackjack!" Rocket moaned, huffing the air out of his chest as it raised and lowered rapidly, his heart beating three times a second. "Suck my feet! Suck them harder! Harder!!" The raccoon demanded, falling backwards and lifting his head up until he could see the baseboard of the bed. Rocket's body trembled as his ultrasensitive soles took in every lash of the rabbit's tongue, every gnaw of the rabbit's teeth. The raccoon didn't need to touch himself; just the feeling from having his feet caressed by the rabbit's hungry, talented mouth was more than enough. In fact, it felt better than he ever did, no matter if it was stroking it himself, using toys, or having someone else suck him off. Nothing could compare to the feeling of having his toes in the rabbit's maw as the rabbit's tongue ravaged between them, licking them and reaping them ravenously of every last droplet of sweat they produced, greedy for the raccoon's foot flavor.

Then Rocket, too, shot his load. Messily, the raccoon unloaded with such a force that it had splattered over his own face, and the only response he could give by then was to moan erotically at his release, making sounds that would at any other time of his life made Rocket instantly shoot whoever had heard it in the face.

"Flark. That was.. That was good." Rocket melted into the bed, being exhausted and overwhelmed just as the eagle was.

By then, Blackjack was the only one who hadn't gotten his yet, and he saw no harm in borrowing Rocket for it. He did, after all, just give Rocket the best orgasm of his life, too. Taking the raccoon's well-licked, well-used soles, the rabbit puts them together for his turn at the fuck-hole, slipping his cock between the black, leathery soles as he thrusted between them, indulging in the raccoon's softness as he fucked them.

Rocket had thought it was over for him, but that was not to be. Just as Blackjack pushed him to orgasm with just the use of his tongue, the way the rabbit so forcefully thrusted between the raccoon's soles, too, reignited the arousal in Rocket. The raccoon's cock involuntarily inflated once more as the rabbit used his soles, the rough grinding of the rabbit's shaft between his arches beckoning Rocket to feel the flame of arousal in his groins once more.

Except this time, there was a minor deviation. Having already orgasmed, the raccoon was sensitive all over, and his feet were another magnitude more so, thanks to the eagle's meddling with his reality altering camera.

"Oh no. No, Blackjack! Stop!" Rocket moaned, his shaft feeling full and erect. The raccoon was sure that if the rabbit continued, he'd be forced into another climax, and he didn't know if he could take being overwhelmed by such a strong orgasm back-to-back. His mind was already blanked, devoid of any rational thought, and his body was beaten, submitting to nothing but the basest of urges and primal lust. Rocket gripped the pillow with his claws, ripping and tearing into the fabric as his soles were mercilessly fucked, touch sensitive to every thrust from the rabbit's cock and every squeeze from the rabbit's hands; the raccoon who thought himself indomitable crumbled block by blocked as his feet were used, first as the eagle's fuck meat, then now as the rabbit's fuck toy. "Oh flark! Blackjaaaaaack!" He cried for help, but it fell of deaf ears as the rabbit ravaged his soles again and again, giving no concern for the raccoon's state of mind nor his physical being. All that existed to the rabbit was the raccoon's supple soles and his own need to breed the fuck outta them.

Before the rabbit reached his first climax, though, the raccoon had already come to face his second. Rocket's legs twitched and spasmed as his muscles tightened, the feeling of nervous energy filled his stomach as the fuckhole his feet formed was penetrated deeply; the hotness on his soles incomparable to the flame in his groins. Rocket screamed, then shot again, unloading a large splooge of semi-translucent fluids along with the very last drops of his seed. It wasn't just a release. Rocket felt like it was forcefully taken, extracted, perhaps somewhat too strongly, by the rabbit's foot lust too. The raccoon was completely drained, feeling he had nothing more to give of himself, and resigned to allowing the rabbit to fuck his soles until Blackjack, too, would empty his balls.

As soon as Rocket climaxed for the second time, his legs went limp in the rabbit's hands, and Blackjack smirked at Rocket's lack of endurance. No matter, though; Blackjack did enjoy having more control, especially over Rocket, to which he could make no complaints about, and so the rabbit gripped onto Rocket's ankles tightly and pulled his ragdolled body closer, fucking and breeding the raccoon's soles until he was ready. He felt the tingling in his cock and pushed hard one last time, and then sprayed the raccoon's soles with his own seed, mixing his own juices with the raccoon's musky foot sweat. The rabbit moaned and shuddered, shivering from the incredibly pleasure it had bought him to fuck Rocket - even if it was just a part of the raccoon.

Just as the rabbit had finished, he found himself as exhausted and worn out as the other two, who had orgasmed before him; and so the rabbit, the raccoon, and the eagle all fell asleep in the larger-than-life bed, glowing with the post-orgasm rush of serotonin and oxytocin, each one with a smile plastered on their face.

--

"Okay. And to be clear, we are never, ever, ever speaking of this to anybody. Ever." Rocket put on his serious face and sternly warned the eagle, but mostly he was directly it to the rabbit. "I swear Blackjack, if I even hear someone make an off-handed comment about this, I will hunt you down and give you metal legs again!"

"Relax, Roc." The rabbit shrugged and put his hands up defensively. "I don't want people to know I came to your feet, either. Reputation and all, remember?"

"..And I want you to come back again, so it works against me to piss you off, doesn't it?" The eagle offered. "And of course, I'm happy to pay you again for your.. Service." He smirked, to which the raccoon groaned.

"Next time? Next time?!" Rocket asked, looking a little rabid in his hot-temperedness."If you try making my feet more sensitive again, kid, next time it won't be just your Units I'm taking, got it?!"

"Crystal clear, Roc." The eagle handed over the rest of the Units he promised the two bounty hunters. After a quick check to see if the sum is correct, the two individually put away the electronic wallet into one of their hidden pockets on their suit, which had been cleaned by the staff while they were resting. Clean as a whistle, the two were more confident leaving The Nebula now that they weren't smelling of musk, pheromones, and intense debaucherous sex. "But you have to admit, you felt good, didn't you?"

"Kid, I dare you to say that one more time." Rocket threatened, then bidded the others goodbye. "We're done here. Thanks for the good time, I hope to never see you again."

"Eh, no shame in what we did. We're all consenting adults." Blackjack shrugged. "Well, except for Roc. He's a big baby." The rabbit quipped, once the raccoon was out of sight. "Anyway, I will see you around when I see you around, moneybags. Nice doing business with ya."

As Matt was left alone once more, he took out his phone and revisited all the images he took. His shaft came back to life as soon as he laid eyes on Rocket's leathery soles once more. He could still taste the raccoon's salty toes in his mouth, and he smiled to himself. Of course Rocket would think that this is the last time he'd see the eagle. The universe is a pretty big place, after all. That is, unless Matt abused the reality altering powers of his phone and planted hypnotic suggestions to the raccoon to make his return soon. Well, you know what they say about coincidences. Once, yes. Twice or thrice? not so much.