FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

(PoV Story)

Your body feels heavy and weighted, even as you try and wake up. The warmth is pleasant, and you can tell it must already be daytime because you see the brightness of light even through your closed eyes. You open them and you feel a shock as two staring eyes block your field of vision, something else stops you gasping in shock but no matter where you turn your head the eyes follow.

No, they aren't even real eyes as you can see through them. Your body calms down from the initial shock as more confusion and questions emerge. The cartoonish colours aren't opaque, nor are they fully clear, lending a tinted watermarked view of the world. Your arm tries to throw off what your tired body assumes are bed covers. The soft warmth around you could surely only be that, however it cloys to you as you bring your hands to your eyes to remove whatever these lenses are. The hand impacts with a protruding object in front of your nose and mouth and stranger still your fingers look to be in some kind of glove, what little you can see over the length of your snout, but even that is wrong! Larger than it should be.

Your legs kick out as you try and sit up but they don't find the edge of a bed; you're on a floor, though the space between you and the ground feels cushioned. Your focus is still on your face though. The other hand comes up and while you can feel pressure from your face and fingers, something soft squashes against both your palm and cheek. You feel all around your head, it's the same from each angle, even above, with your ears stuffed into two triangular pockets protruding from the top amid a mass of what feels like fake hair.

As you try to move that wedge at the lower part of your face you finally feel the presence of what it hides, there's a thick, solid shape filling the whole of your mouth, from tooth to throat, keeping your tongue depressed and teeth in place. While it feels like there are tubes up your nose, you have no feeling in your throat. The snout between your eyes looked to be fabric but that is only the soft outer layer! Instead as you try to grasp and tug it, you realise it houses a more solid component that keeps its shape over the top of your muzzle and also feeds into those air tubes. Those toon eyes lenses, the furred, pointed snout... you raise your hand for another look. A thick thumb and three fingers wave back, fully beholden to your command but for the ring and little finger being joined together.

You try to pull at each hand with the other, seeing if there could be something loose at the wrists, if these gloves could come off, yet they don't budge. Your tugs pull on an entire sleeve over the arms. Your hands go to the head instead, you've no idea how or why you'd be wearing such a mask, but even that only stretches a little around the neck, not really releasing. It doesn't help that the soft rounded fingertips prevent you from firmly grasping onto the fabric but your roaming hands move in a hurry, along the arms, the shoulders, rubbing your chest, even your sides and legs, they are all covered in the same feeling. There's even a thick plush tail that has encased your own.

Your diminished view stops you getting a good look at your torso, however what you see of your arms and legs confirms it, you're in some kind of costume. Form-fitting though not skin tight as several parts are padded to give a different shape. There are paw-like toes hiding yours and even sporting a pawpad-like pattern on the underside of your hands and feet.

The thick mass in your mouth reduces you to grunts, the tubes whistle as their limited airflow tries to keep pace with your body's increased hunger for oxygen. A zipper, surely there's a zipper or something, you plead in your own head. Your right hand flies to the base of your spine while your left searches at the neck and downwards, yet you can't feel anything of the sort. In your search for anywhere a zipper might be hidden you check your neck, your sides, even your arms and legs.

You don't feel anything out of place beyond the fact that you shouldn't be in such a suit. Your fingers dig in at the fabric, trying to get a grip and pull at it but with your soft and dulled fingers that also amounts to nothing. Maybe there's something nearby.

It's the first time you've looked around since you woke. You already worked out you were on the ground somewhere, thus not in your own home. The walls of the cubic room you are in are close. You can stand but if you stretch your arms up you'd be touching the ceiling before your elbows could even unbend and the walls and floor are bare. Your exploration is short but that leaves the sixth wall, the source of light, a transparent plastic wall, with metal bars. There's a few holes in it to allow air to travel, and a cramped door you'd need to crouch to get through, but there's no way to open it from inside.

Your attention is directed away, however, as you see the room beyond. Two figures, a wolf man and a ferret woman, are standing around a table with a third figure lying on top. You bang at the door, trying to catch their attention. The woman's head swivels up, sees you and then turns back unconcerned. Your heart leaps, if these aren't the ones who have done this to you, they're definitely in on it.

Your thumps on the plastic wall only get harder until you're exhausted, the figures still just ignore you. They share a word you can't hear before the man looks back over his shoulder in your general direction before pointedly moving aside, permitting you a view of their work.

It's a feline body, more than half into a canine animal costume. His unconscious head is visible, as well as his nearest side and shoulder but the arm is already inside a tight costumed sleeve, even worse than your own. You are at least given freedom of limbs, yet the lion on the table's legs and arms are bent tightly within the costume, forcing his knees and elbows to be the focal point if he wanted to move!

The lack of a zipper also makes itself known as you see what the woman is holding, a needle and thread. As you watch, powerlessly, you get to see her slowly seal away the side in your sight. A fresh wave of panic rocks you, making you feel queasy but also making it difficult to look away.

The other figure tucks the limp arm the rest of the way into the sleeve, seemingly stuffing the hand into a tight pouch that would keep it balled up in a fist. They leave their colleague to continue stitching as they turn to the head. The tips of the breathing tubes protrude from their nostrils already, which leaves the mouth unfinished. The wolf looks up, almost tauntingly making eye contact with you as they show off a glistening black mass, rubber, heavily lubricated, with a plug that goes in deep. Your own throat is still numb but reflexively your hand presses in and your mind may be playing tricks but you can almost feel the bulge. Can something like that really be lodged inside you?!

The figure slides the mass in, making you feel all the more nauseous. The remaining bulk of it is another shaped piece which nestles in over the lion's face. It fills out his muzzle, reshaping it into the form of a dog's. When it's smoothed down, they test a tube in the centre of it and the nostrils, before they reach toward a flopping cloth shape; the suit's canine-inspired hood. It's stretched over the man's head which fills it out, giving it the animal shape as it's tucked down to be sewn there, too. The tubes are also threaded between the lips and nostrils, discreetly providing their usage. From the sight you see before you, you can intuit the hood you are wearing has left you looking the same and the lenses pushed over the lion's eyes are so thick you doubt you'd be able to see inside them while your own eyes are so covered.

Seams are in place by the time you look back, the needlework has got past the arm, shutting it away. Now the metal point stabs in and out around the mask, covering the last hint of the man from view.

A new tool was lifted up by the now taskless man, this item was traced along the freshly sewn seam, it let out a low mechanical hum as it ran over the stitching, both reinforcing and hiding it from the untrained eye. Before you can witness any more, your attention is taken by two tigers walking in from the side. They stop in front of your cell and immediately reach for the door.

Despite banging for freedom earlier, when the door is flung open and a hand grabs at you, you back away heading further inside. The pair grab you by the legs instead, dragging you out with their strength. Whether you want to fight or flee, your choices are limited as they pin you down and wrestle you between them, bearing you off by tucking their arms under yours and holding your hands behind your back. Out of the corner of your eye you can glimpse more walls like the one you were behind, hinting that there may be others beyond you and the poor soul on the table.

Led down a short hallway you're brought into a room that looks almost clinical. Fresh and clean, with medical apparati around you.

Your escorts push you up against the wall. Your right arm is raised up and a pinching force grips the wrist, strong enough to be felt. You hear a click from it, the even spread of the weight indicating a shackle or cuff of some sort.

When they release that arm, you're unable to pull it down, a short chain jangles at you in defiance. They push you around, flipping you so your back is to the wall as they cuff the other arm too. You try to kick back, more enraged than might be sensible but that doesn't slow them down as they grab another item that had been bumping you in the shoulders. "Hold still." One of them says as the object is revealed to be a thick collar which has a shaped, curved lip at the front. The curve cradles your masked head, making it impossible for you to tilt. When they finish connecting the collar to the wall, it also stops you twisting your head! "Aww, good dog." They tease at you, a hand even rubbing your motionless cheek as your body shudders.

The facetious praise over with, the attending pair grab your thighs and lift you suddenly, the tail of your costume is hooked behind a ledge of some kind, which supports your cheeks. The thighs are bent up and back, approaching the limit of your flexibility. More snapping clicks tell you of the cuffs they latch over your ankles and then they step back. You're fixed to the wall! Unable to squirm with your rump feeling displayed and offered.

The two of them retreat from you, one going to a form on a table surface in the room, the other exiting. The door rattles again as someone else comes in, a deer in a white lab coat. She looks you up and down, taking the form from the table when your escort is done with it.

"Still struggling? So I guess that means this one isn't in shock." She ticks something off. "And if they are that conscious, we can get some results in the check up." She clicks a small pen-sized torch on, the bright light piercing in as she shines it in your eyes. "Follow the light." She says. You consider defying that instruction, shaking your body in response but still you do as bidden for now.

She puts the torch away and pulls out a stethoscope, pressing it tightly against your costumed chest and listening. "Sufficient airflow. Good." She writes again before her tests continue.

It's drawn out and thorough, your own spirit flickers in defiance at times but somehow the doctor-like woman seems to know when you give her a lie.

Soon after her questions and inspections slow down, she brings out a drip bag. It is lifted over your head and hung up, the tube of it is then fed into the small tube at the front of your mask. The feeling in your throat has started to come back at this point and it's as you feared, there's a plug buried deep inside that means whatever fluid is being fed by that drip is going straight to your belly. You don't even get the chance to taste it. There's a tugging sensation below your presented waist as they feed a tiny tube into one that's just slightly bigger, so subtle you didn't even feel it. The mystery of what is going on is revealed a few minutes later when the lab-coated woman disconnects a marked bag, filled with bodily waste. She takes it away for disposal, they'd even hooked up tubes to deal with that?! Just what the hell was all this?

You try to tug and fight the restraints but they hold you firmly, just making you shake a little. "Alright, bring the next one in, too, it'll be an hour before feeding is done." The lab-coated woman instructs. You let out another whine, half growling at her as you squirm again, they won't dare leave you like this for an hour!

The doe sighs and reaches into a drawer, pulling out a long fabric strip. She then takes a clip from one of the table surfaces in the room. The clip she slides over one of the nostrils, limiting your breathing all the more and the cloth she wraps over your head and eyes, three layers in before it cuts down the room's light. "I advise you to get used to it and stop fighting. There's still things that can be taken from you." She said curtly. "This will serve as a lesson for now."

The rest of the hour proceeded in a similar vein, another figure was brought in, rigged up to the wall beside you and then the same tests and procedures were carried out. With your air flow shrunk as it was you could barely make any noise at all.

By the time the hour was up more feeling had returned, you could sense the squeeze of the posture collar adding to the tightness of the plug in your throat, as well as feel the hint of the pipes below the belt line. You were carried back into your cell before the blinding fabric and nose clip were removed.

There was no one else in the room once the tigers left, the compacted form you'd seen being dressed on the table was missing, as were the tools that were used. It was just you and an empty room.

The returning feelings had left you weak, though you were unsure if it was something they'd fed you or just fatigue catching up, even so you tried once again to pull and tug at the costume. The tail was the only part you could get a good grip on, but even that resisted your efforts to pull it off.

New movement interrupts you as the men who'd dragged you out walk by with another costumed person between them. This fellow prisoner is dressed almost the same as you, with a slight difference to the costumes colours. Their head is bowed but they've been allowed to walk, their subservience rewarded by having only a light leash pulling them along.

The attendant behind them looks in at you and stops, catching your hands in the act of pulling. You hear another door open and shut as they escort your fellow prisoner into their cell and then both figures return on you. "Wow, only been awake for a day and already making trouble. Don't worry, we've got ways to train you up." The tiger said as he returned to you. He pushed open the door and came into your cell, you'd made it far enough back to avoid the same grab as before but he wasn't dissuaded. Instead, his colleague behind him, they tackled you between them, grabbing your arms and forcing something over your hands. The squeeze told you that they were cuffs at least as strong as those that you'd been bound in during the examination, worse still were the stiff leather mittens they were part of, your hands were now cramped and useless. As if that humiliation wasn't enough, they linked the mitts together behind your back before throwing you down and exiting.

The one who spotted you stuck around to jab a finger in threat. "Act up again and we'll bring the spreader bar for your legs!"

Twice daily you would be fetched and taken to the clinical room, vented, cleaned, fed but never released from the suit. Sometimes there were check-ups and other examinations. Normally when one of you was brought back the next would be brought in, as such you managed to glimpse the now conscious figure you'd been witness to. He was resisting as much, or perhaps more than you. Dragged back by collar and leash one day and then the next fixed into a strange metal frame that let them simply carry him off the floor. Had you not seen he was a lion below all that, you'd have never known.

You'd started to move beyond anger without even realising you'd been whining in attempts at bargaining, showing you could be a little better behaved.

You didn't receive any more details until the fourth day after you woke up, when a fox man in a business suit was brought into the room and spoken to by the lab-coated deer. "One male, quadrupedal. One female, bipedal, one male, bipedal." She said indicating your cell and the two to either side.

"Must you refer to them so clinically? All I see is three good dogs." He replied, squatting down and looking directly at you.

The woman rolled her eyes. "We've tested them and they're healthy and hale. The feeding and waste systems are fine. As far as I see they're ready for training and conditioning. They could use the exercise."

The man chuckled and shook his head. "Ah, we won't be doing that for these three, their buyer, or rather the couple buying them, insisted they get to break them in."

"You think that's wise?" She asked back, but their conversation was lost on you as the reality hit home.

You'd been snatched, dressed up like this, and were going to be sold?! It seemed impossible! There was no way they could be running a business doing this. People would come looking, you'd all have been reported missing, surely. The way these two were talking though, it seemed such concerns weren't of any importance.

The thoughts were still warring in your mind. Renewing your attempts to struggle out of the twisted suit, you didn't notice until hands were upon you that they'd come to fetch you again. You were pulled kicking and squirming toward a trio of large pet-carriers, two masked faces looking up at you from within the occupied pair. The thrashing and squirming from the quadrupedal one mimicked your own but far weaker in effect given his restraints, while the other biped had a defeated air to them.

The rough hands seemed intent on just pushing you into the cage head-first before a voice chastised them loudly. "What are you doing?"

"Ah, well, this one was acting up, so like... as a lesson."

"Store them properly." The clipped tone ordered, and with a grunt they pulled you out. It meant more effort on their part and you weren't going to give up now! Not that it mattered. You were lifted up by their arms, the carrier tilted toward the ceiling, then your legs were fed into it and two bodies pushed you down, forcing you to kneel.

Your arms and head followed and then the door was all but slammed in your face before it was closed with a hefty bolt which was then padlocked. The claustrophobic confines pressed around you and you tried to kick, butt and rock the container. The ground pulled away as you were lifted from behind and loaded up with the other two onto the bed of a truck.

Wherever you were headed, it was going to be a long drive. The cage was too strong to break out of. You could only contemplate the fate that was waiting for you and make the best plans you could for what may well be your new life.