FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

On the 24th of September, 1998, James "Jamesy" Corck sat at the front desk of his police station. The deathly quiet of the grand hall would have bothered him, if not for the Walkman blasting out the Beastie Boys' latest, "Intergalactic". His head went bobbing to the rhythm as he scribbled away, trying to ignore the swollen pain in his ballsack. Every shift of his seat made a crinkling sound, the ice pack soaking on his crotch.

His pen whispered over reports, echoing scratches throughout the vast three-story entrance of the RCPD. A towering statue loomed behind him, the marble lady keeping watch with her flag over the empty station. Throughout his time in the academy, James heard rumours about this city and its "bad vibes" for new recruits.

Not because of its isolation in the Arklay Mountains, or the weird corporate vibes of everyone being employed by Umbrella, but because of the infamous hazing rituals for rookies. But Jamesy wasn't the sort of bird to trust rumours, believing that some of the best places were those he just gave a chance. At least, that's what he used to believe, before arriving in Raccoon City.

Four weeks ago he stepped off the train, into a derelict, shoddy railway station with cracked biscuit walls and ticket stubs littering the floor. It looked like how New York felt, a gristly thick debris against his bare-taloned feet.

"Hey there," a hyena in blue stepped up, "I'm Lt. Masters."

"Officer Corck," the griffon shook his hand, "nice to meet you!"

"Want some coffee before we leave? Get you spiced up the first day."

"Sure, thank you!"

On August 24th, James Corck entered the city, following the police officer to a coffee shop in the station. Even for the late evening, it was eerily quiet, the bird able to hear the wind whistling down the streets above.

"Did I come at a bad time?" Corck pointed at the cracks.

"Nah, recession hit us hard," the hyena walked up the steps, "railway's only good for commuting the next town over."

"I couldn't even get a bus here," the griffon followed, "is it that bad?"

"Oh yeah yeah, I mean we're pretty isolated an-OH SHIT!"

The lieutenant tripped and grabbed Jamesy's jeans, pulling the seam and dousing Jamesy's balls in hot coffee. A searing, bubbling brown stickying up his feathers and gnawing like acid through his scrotum. The pale fuchsia griffon felt his legs nearly collapse, clutching the guard rail with a crackling hiss over the skin of his tangerines.

"SQWAK!"

"Shiiit I'm sorry, ugh this fucking station," Masters pulled out a napkin.

"It...MMMMPH, it's f-fine," Jamesy gritted his beak.

"Really gotta watch for them cracks, huh? Don't worry, I won't tell them you pissed yourself."

"Uh, th-thanks?"

The hyena's smile would be the bane of his first month, as they drove in his police car towards the station. Corck's first impression was that Raccoon City was weird, a place out of time with stone buildings given odd statuesque faces. But like the train station, the mask was falling apart everywhere he went, and the only clean smooth things were the billboards of Umbrella Inc.

The police station however took his breath away, a grand looming fortress of pale rock with iron gates, where a sheep officer stood before the double oak doors. Not that Corck was paying much attention, trying to dry his burning crotch as the coffee turned to glue, plucking the flesh of his sac.

"Heeey you," a sheep officer waved at the door, "that the new meat?"

"Sure is," said the hyena, "don't worry, he didn't piss himself."

"Lemme guess, railway steps?"

"Mmmhmm."

"I'm Sgt. Spencer," she shook Jamesy's hand, "ooh, nice grip."

"Thanks," the bird stiffened his legs, "this place is uh...interesting."

"Yeah, I know, used to be an art museum, but they lost funding so the chief took it for a base."

"Oh, that is...weird."

"Ehh, you get used to it," she offered a pamphlet, "map, you'll need it."

"Huh, thank you ma'am-"

"IF you do one thing," she pulled it away, "you gotta give me your best pick-up line."

"Um...really?" Corck blinked reeling back.

"Just a li'l test, I wanna see how smooth my new recruits are, go on, hit me."

"Okay..." the bird smoothed his head-feathers and pulled a Jack Nicholson grin, "so uh, this is an art museum right?"

"Mmhmm," Spencer crossed her arms.

"Is that why you're here, because you're a priceless, beautiful, work of art?"

The hyena started laughing, the ewe smiling wide as she walked up to James and put an arm round his shoulders.

"Ohhh sweetie...that was very good."

"Thank you, I never done pick-up-DHHFFFF!"

With unreactable force, Spencer drove her knee straight into Jamesy's balls. The griffon always had large testes, requiring specialised pants with a bigger seat, and while his package did look impressive, it made an easy target for his peers. The hard twist of the sergeant's knee crushed his plums, scraping the knee upwards like a millstone on his burning crotch until she forced them apart, almost wrapping round her leg like bolas.

"Welcome to Raccoon City, punk."

He wasn't allowed to fall until she let go, letting Corck crumple on his back before walking back inside with a cackle. Masters didn't help, waiting for the bird to get back up as they followed after, into the opulent stone-and-marble hall of the RCPD.

Things would get worse for Corck over the next three weeks. On the third day, his pants had been laced with pepper spray, scouring his crotch with a violent dusty fire that scarred his feathers like heated claws. On the twelfth day, a wire trap had been put on his chair to snap shut on his peaches, squishing them with a terrible crack and a silent shriek that made every dog officer clutch their ears.

Day fourteen, he found deer beetles in his pants, a thousand terrible bites plucking his nerves and gouging deep with tiny-knived mandibles to leave a spotty pair of orbs. The worst of it was day seventeen, when Corck was offered the chance to do a trust exercise, by standing in the basement's shooting range whilst they fired at his bulletproof vest.

Instead they brought out the tasers, blasting his crotch with a powerful electric charge that would turn his flaccid sausage, to a straining bulge against his pants. With squawking screams he collapsed with spasms, the violent sparks crackling through his sack until he felt the barbs of his cockhead seethe agony, pushing against his pants. His large fuzzy plums quivered like a beating heart from the electric force.

With one bolt driven through each testicle, the current went in a vicious circle, his bollocks jumping like popcorn with each sparking snap of the taser cord as the officers laughed. A sea of blue and grinning faces, howling like gibbons at Jamesy's tortured expressions.

Once the voltage stopped, with his shaft throbbing in anguish and reflexive pleasure, they pulled him up and carried him to the car to drive him back to his apartment. James fell into his bed with a roaring pain in his apples, clenching spasms turning his legs dead exhausted.

The next day he was woken by a dozen hands, grabbing his arms and legs to pin him down, as he kicked and shouted in vain. The RCPD were back, and in the centre of them was Sgt. Spencer with her wicked fluffy face.

"Gooood morning birdy, time for your final test."

"WHA-SQWAK!"

"We're gonna see how well you know our city by now."

Pulling down his pants, she exposed his fat heavy bags still scarred with electric burns, the sheathless cock twitching in fright as Spencer gripped it. A few sturdy pumps made it swell up in pain, her rough rapid jerking making the bird twitch and writhe in his bed, as she revealed the glossy head.

A small set of barbs poked out the glans, little teeth snarling in pain as Spencer flicked them hard, watching the cock slap against his belly like a speed bag. Corck whinged as she flicked it again, before grabbing his large feathery sack.

"Damn you're a real freak," the sheep cackled, "bigger than my fucking tits."

"Yeah you could sleep on those things," said Masters giggling, "bet those beetles loved the new hive."

"Ohhh, you think they're still in there?" She pulled out her baton. "That's dangerous, that's we call that an infestation, let's beat 'em out for ya."

"W-WAIT, NO, TH-THEY'RE NOT-SQWAK!"

Her truncheon came down with a brutal thud, Jamesy crossing his eyes in a deep agony from the brutal stick. Her swing was precise, slamming on one testicle than the other, like big taiko drums to watch them shudder, flatten, and tremble with a deep black bruise.

With five hammering strikes, she watched his own baton spew a heady shot of pre, frothing on his belly with a shivering whimper. Then she brought out the cock-cage, a little black thong that was not built with his balls in mind. Strapping it on and squashing his steamed plums together, she locked it tight and snapped the key.

"What are you doing?!" Jamesy cried.

"That's 'what are you doing, SERGEANT'," she tapped his beak, "now, I got a puzzle for ya, and if you solve it, you find the other key for this lock. A hunter roams a sea of green, a silver fish searches for a queen. Her Highness seeks counsel from a bishop, but he sat under E4."

"Wh-what...what the-what does that mean?"

"That's for you to find out, if you know this city good."

It was now Thursday, September 24th. Corck had been unable to jerk off for two whole weeks, the chastity cage a constant reminder of his endless throbbing pain. His melons were now so full, that he was constantly leaking pre from the small slit of the lock, leaving his pants always stained much to the derision of his coworkers.

The worst of them was Sgt. Spencer. Every. Single. Time, that he crossed paths with her, she would assault him in a friendly hug before driving her knee hard to his bollocks, crushing them tight in the cage to shoot out the breath from his lungs. Then she would step back with a heavy boot, a door-crushing slam that almost snapped the seams of his pants, his legs buckling and his tangerines squelched even tighter to almost a thin smear.

As he walked around the city with a stiff, swollen sac, that scraped against his cock-cage with insufferable squeeze, Corck found the locals oddly quiet and strangely nervous around the police. Even the most trusted businesses had a leery eye to his blue uniform, except anyone with an Umbrella badge.

But on this week, it was even quieter. He saw less corporate employees, and the streets were deadly quiet except for the bustling noise from the Warren Stadium. Cars had been parked haphazardly, some even unlocked with their keys still in the ignition.

He was about to call it in before seeing some tickets for the local game, the Raccoon Sharks playing off against the Old Court Thunders. A light clicked on his head, as he went to the stadium that was preparing for the big match. The long rectangular field was humming with excitement, a few hundred early fans waiting with the sound of a lawnmower cutting the grass. James searched along the stalls of reserved seats, finding Seat E4 with a deep sigh of relief. There he saw a bishop chess piece, with a small key inside the base.

"Ohhh thank fuck," he grabbed a small chess piece, "okay...that's it."

He headed to the bathroom and locked himself in a stall, before clicking open the cage, and letting his balls hang free for the first time in weeks. A sigh filled the dimly-lit stalls, as he grabbed his balls and felt a sudden wince.

"HAAAAH...nnnngh, sh-shit."

" Urrrgh?"

"Oh, sorry," he said to the next stall, "long day, don't ask."

" Rrrrhhhh."

The sound of an odd laboured breathing came from the next stall, a shuddering groan as Corck clenched his beak from the spasms filling his sack. His mind was foggy, his thighs throbbed unceasing that even the smallest flex of his member, brought a warm clenching pain that made him stumble.

Without a car of his own, the long walk was almost refreshing, until the screams suddenly started from the football stadium. The game had started, presumably, as he remembered the cars left unattended and clicked his radio.

"Central, this is two-four-nine, I have several signal elevens all down South Raccoon Street, please advise, over."

The radio was silent, the roar of the fans echoing across the morning sky.

"Central? This is two-four-nine, please respond, over."

Still nothing. He rolled his eyes and kept walking, letting his "fellow officers" deal with it instead. When he arrived at the station, there was not a single soul in the building, but a note had been left for him at the desk.

Birdy, you're on reception duty

Big operation among seniors, hold the fort til I get back

- Sgt. Spencer

"Are you kidding me?" the griffon snarled. "Well...least they're not here to harass me."

This was where officer James Corck found himself, scribbling down reports and catching up on his paperwork. A helicopter flew overhead, then two, then three, but he heard nothing through his Walkman, banging out that "Intergalactic" hip-hop beat that was mimicked by his bare feet. He also didn't hear the statue move behind him, a grinding shift of the podium that split apart, thunked down its bars, and exposed an underground passage.

Shambling out of the depths were the sounds of six paws, four of them dragging with a hissing snarl, and two of which made a heavy, clumping march that stepped up to the reception. An odd smell crept into Corck's beak, a rancid sting that made him look up, and almost reel back with a start.

"Gooood mornin'! I'd like to shove my hot dog deep through your buns 'til you're fucking ketchup."

"Uh...sorry?" James took off the Walkman. "I didn't catch that."

"Haha, s'alright," the visitor smirked, "real quiet here huh, you got left behind while folks're at the game?"

"Oh, no, I'm just doing paperwork to catch up on things, how can I help you ma'am?"

Standing against the counter was a doberman, in a blood-orange full-body biker suit with its white front emblazoned of the RACCOON RACING TEAM. Her smile was oddly uneven, her eyes pale and milky with the odd scent of warm, bitter meat, a blonde ponytail dangling on her neck.

"I'm a little lost," she stroked along the desk, "my girls and I are super hungry but it's so hard to find a place round here that...caters to our needs."

"Oh, are you vegan, vegetarian?"

"Heheh, naaah, the opposite, can't eat plants or anything close to it."

"Huh...alright, well," Jamesy peeked under the counter, "I think I have some pamphlets for local restaurants that might help."

"Well, that's the problem," she leaned over the desk, "we don't got any money, so we were thinking maybe there's another way we could pay-"

"Iiiii am not sure what you mean-MMMPH!"

The bird looked up at her face, as she grabbed his tie and pulled him across the desk to kiss him deeply. A strangely rancid texture filled her mouth, slightly repulsing James but her ravenous suckling made him shiver with a weird excitement. The plapping suck of her tongue made his cheeks pop, scraping inside his beak and creeping at the back of his tongue. It wasn't clear who broke the kiss, but Jamesy was certain that it was not him, since there was a part of him that wanted to keep going. She pulled back with a shlorp, licking her drooling lips.

"M-MA'AM! Don't do that, that's harassment-"

"Oh relaaaax it's Raccoon City," she shrugged hard, "nobody cares, you seen what the cops round here are like?"

"I'm still, an officer ma'am, now I'm sorry but I can't help you with alternate payments."

"Ohhhh I think you can...what's your name, handsome?"

"Officer Corck," the griffon sat up pulling his ice bag, "I can only help you find places, or deal with criminal acts."

"Criminal eh?" The doberman sat up on the counter. "I can help with that, you notice how there's way less Umbrella folks round here lately?"

"Yes, and, can you not sit on the desk please-"

"You know what Umbrella REALLY does, officer? I offered myself as a test subject, free money, it's hard to act in this fucking town, you ever seen a theatre round here? No, I mean look at THIS place! Whole art museum, and what happens, they give it to you guys, death of the arts and the cops are crawling around in its corpse."

"I...that's not my department," James shifted the bag on his crotch, "that's more of a city council complaint-"

"So without any means to act I had to be a meat-toy for Umbrella. You wanna see what they did to me?"

Putting her hands behind her, she spun on her ass and spread her legs wide for him. A pair of dark reddish legs and hard leather boots splayed out before him, shimmering like a cadillac through a sunset road. Every creak of her muscle brought a moan from the suit, the flexing leather, the skin-tight fabric hissing over her fur.

Then he saw the viper slithering down her leg, a veiny bulge with two enormous eggs in her nestling crotch. The bird's eyes widened at her swollen girth, a flexing creak pulling the suit leg with a rubbery groan.

"I wasn't born with this," the dog grinned, "and I got some issues to fix, that only cute little birds can help me with."

"I...I-i-i, that's not my job-"

"And who's gonna punish you, they're all out there dealing with some riot at the stadium."

"Wait, what?"

"But they're not HERE, officer Corck. I can smell how pent-up you are, how long you been keeping them funbags cold, unloved, unattended. Are they always that swollen, or were you just saving them up for me?"

Her eyes pierced him with demonic hunger, her length flexing under the fabric to make it creak. While holding this pose, her legs would strain, her boots trembled, and her suit tightened to the point that Corck could see her thick doggy balls. That was his limit, the invitation that would send him over the edge, a karmic balance after the month of abuse and hazing. This was his just reward.

"Fuck it," the bird pushed away his papers, "you really wanna do this?"

"Oh I sure do," the dog licked her lips, "I wanna fuck you up like you're the last rare steak in the world, I wanna hold your spunk tanks and feel all them boys wriggling around before I fucking empty them."

"NNNNGH!" he grabbed her quivering thighs. "God, you're in great shape."

"Thanks...I got plenty of stamina, more than enough for you."

She let him explore her body, his eyes full of christmas cheer as he stood up and roamed over his present. Rubbing along her thighs, he felt along her thick python, as it shuddered to his warmth with a creaking pulse. His hands soon met at her crotch to feel her huge sack, bundles of joy with a burning heat. He almost felt the steam rising from her crotch, a wondrous, spicy scent, like a thick roasted sausage.

"You wanna do it here?" James asked, still rubbing her thighs. "I know some places we-"

"Here." She tapped his head. "Right here, you know no one's coming to save you."

"They better not, this is the last thing I need saving from."

"Good. But, I got some friends, and they're very hungry too, you think you got enough meat for three?"

"Ohhh yeah," he nodded fast, I can definitely handle three."

"I bet you can, you big, sweet, turkey-boy."

She pushed him down with her boot back in his chair, spinning him towards the side ramp where two other dobermans shuffled into view. They wore nothing but dirty labcoats, with long gangly legs scraping the floors.

Unlike the biker girl, they were covered in blood and dirt, thick grime dragging the hem of their coats, their thick caramel breasts dangling with sweat-covered pussies. One had her throat and her abdomen torn open, missing all her intestines to leave a hollowed abscess. The other had half her cheek torn off, the skin of her ribs peeled off to show a dead withering pair of lungs.

"Wh-what...the fuck?!"

"That's Cammy on the left," said the biker to his side, "and that's Rose on the right. I'm Elza...and you...are our main course for today."

"U-uhhh, what?! Okay, that's it, if this is a joke from sergeant-"

" SIT...down, little birdy."

Her hands slammed on his shoulders with a shocking strength, claws stretching out to dig into the skin and pin him fast to the chair as the two dogs approached. The sound of bone scraping on the floor made his teeth ache, the rotted flesh from half their paws dangling like burnt paper.

"All you need to do," Elza whispered in his ear, "is keep your legs apart, and let my friends savour your chicken nuggets."

"A-are they alright?" he muttered back. "Those look...that's not a costume is it?"

"Maybe...is that more important than emptying your fuckbags?"

The griffon said nothing, or rather his lust demanded he shut up and not ruin this. Too long had he been pent up, that he would take anyone to fuck at this point. The dogs approached in their stumbling gait, a snarling hiss from their drooling tongues as Elza forced his legs apart with her boots, before unzipping his pants.

Throbbing at full mast with a luscious 11 inches, the scent of his heat made her drool on his shoulder, her hand gripping his staff and gently pumping it before pre came sputtering out.

"Ohhh fuck, you are pent-up arentcha?"

"Mmmmph, y-yeah!" he whimpered.

"That's good...my girls are very hungry, and no one's been able to satisfy us yet. You think you got what it takes, turkey-boy?"

"Fuck yeah...who wants to ride it first?"

Elza whistled to Rose, her mangled ear perking up as she lumbered forth to grab Jamesy. The sweet rancid smell became stronger, blood trickling from Rose's open chest to drip on his suit. Blank, lifeless eyes burned into his soul, a shivering rasp as she climbed on his lap, and shoved her cunt deep to the hilt.

The bird squawked at her tightening slam, Rose driving down to mash her hips on his thighs. She was horribly cold, stiff in every vein, her walls unmoving and her muscle never clenching. Jamesy was confused, but his lust drove him on as he gripped the dog and started thrusting into her.

Why was she so freezing? Every part of her felt so rigid, no matter where he grabbed, she was a furry mannequin. But she breathed with soft whimpers, her tongue dangling in front of his beak as Elza stayed behind him. The griffon bucked harder, causing the chair to rock in a desperate urge to cum as he wrapped his arms around Rose.

The first orgasm he had in months came too quickly for him, a braying shudder as he pumped through to her womb. There was no resistance, no spasm of bliss from her folds when her slack muscle rubbed against his shaft, drooling fetters of cum back down his balls. The happiest sob rang from his throat as the hound kept riding him.

"Ohhhh f-fuck yes," the rookie whimpered, "ohhh god I needed that, thank you."

"We're just getting started," Elza stroked his cheek, "I wanna drain you empty, take off the burden from your baby makers."

"Y-yeah, yeah, god, don't stop please!"

"You heard him Rose, keep riding."

The biker giggled as she pressed her bulge against the chair, the hard creak of her fat tube scraping against the plastic and vibrating through his back. The dog in the labcoat kept pumping herself on his meat, the natural curve grinding on her unflinching walls as blood trickled down his length. Not that he noticed in his hammering thrusts, a cold, thick sauce dripping down his bollocks.

What he did feel was Cammy's tongue, the second dog crawling forwards to lick over his heavy nuts. A frigid tongue slurped over his sensitive feathery sac, still so tender that he felt every taste bud tickling against them. He flinched from her laps, a warm throbbing pain that receded with each slurp, a hungering snarl rumbling through them.

His second orgasm burst through, a fountain of white splattering Rose's depths and smothering back out onto Cammy's face. The bitch kept lapping away, drinking down the hot jizz that kept coming. Jamesy was lost in a stupor, his heaven reached at last before Rose pulled herself off. Her beige pussy was dripping a red cream, as she stumbled down on her paws to lick over his gooey shaft.

"Now let's give the girls something to share," Elza muttered, "and YOU...get to enjoy something else."

"Whah?" the bird muttered. "What else you...you got?"

The sound of a zipper made his eyes shrink, a hungry lick of his beak when something grinded his chair and flapped out beside his cheek. A monstrous, 24-inch pillar of black, pulsing 4 inches wide with a tapering foreskin tip. The glossy ebony meat rubbed his feathers, the bird whimpering at its hot, thickening, spicy scent.

"Suck it," she ordered, "my girls'll keep themselves busy."

"Yes ma'am," he mumbled.

"Ah-ah...no hands. Open wide, you get what you're given."

Walking to his side, he saw Elza had unzipped her suit to reveal her beautiful brown fur, the hint of cleavage still tucked on either side. But her massive monolith was out and ready, pulsing with her heartbeat, a gorgeous pair of bowling balls hanging down against her thighs with the left hanging lower.

"Good boys eat their veggies first," she wagged her meat, "start with them...then you can eat."

Lifting her caber, she walked closer to slap it down on Jamesy's head, the heavy weight stunning his scalp as he breathed in her ball-sweat. That odd rancid sweetness came back again, a bollock on each side of his beak where juices dripped down for him to lick. At the same time, he felt Cammy and Rose licking him, slorping off the cum with rabid guttural sounds.

Trapped under her huge orbs, Jamesy sniffed deeper and sucked even harder, pulling back to savour the rich heaping testosterone. Elza rubbed his cheeks, her vein throbbing above his eye, so loud that he could hear it through his skull. Corck struggled to fit one bollock in his beak, the dog helping to push it in and feeling the hard coughing gulp pull at her scrotum.

"Gooood little birdy," she giggled, "you love my fat spunk tanks? So much bigger than yours, you'd almost forgot you even had them."

Letting him suck away at her fleshy plum, Elza kept drooling pre down his neck, making the bird shiver filthily. Once he had gulped down enough of her sweat, the doberman plucked her nut from his beak, her snake dragging across his head to leave a trail of white slime. She offered her enormous schlong but only the tip, keeping the rest just out of range.

The moment he tried to move, the dogs between his legs growled with venom as he felt their teeth pluck at his pork. Looking down, he saw Rose slobbering over his cucumber, her cold tongue sliding over the glans.

Tickling over the little barbs, she swallowed the griffon's spear which slipped out of her torn cheek, rubbing against the weak tattered folds of her skin. The smallest scream of danger went off in Jamesy's head, that these creatures were not living, a thousand rumours of Umbrella's work spiralling in his brain. "But dick too horny", a louder voice screamed in his gut, "nookie first, panic later", as his tongue already slipped into Elza's foreskin.

James strained his neck to try and lick deeper, but whenever he moved his body, the bitches growled to keep him still, his arms rooted with fear despite the taste of her glossy glans exciting him.

As Rose bobbed down on his length, Cammy crawled to the other side to suck on the end poking from her cheek, the first blowjob-in-a-blowjob. Their tongues were so strange to feel, wet but lifeless, like dead fish rubbing him back and forth. But that didn't stop him cumming again, with shot number three pumping out Rose's cheek, and Cammy stealing the milk.

"Mmm-m-m-m-mmmmm...good birdy," Elza sighed, "still not empty?"

"N-nuh," he muttered, tonguing away, "m-more, please."

"Rose still got more in her so don't get sloppy...or do, they don't care."

The griffon pulled back to let the rest of his cum drool down Rose's throat, pushing her head away to touch her greasy, matted hair. The barest spasm of muscle mimicked a gulping motion, as Cammy licked her friend's cheek with a panting whimper, yearning for a taste of living seed. But Rose was still hungry, swallowing James fully, as he kept pleasuring their mistress.

Elza throbbed a thickening milk on his beak, as he closed his eyes and drank it with a whimper. She grabbed his head and forced his beak to open wider, stuffing his maw with her thick sceptre. The first five inches were easy enough, but beyond that James started to cough, a panting spasm that pulled it deeper into his gullet.

With eyes opening, he saw Elza's abs getting closer, his throat bulging out with trembling cough to fight his gag reflex and let her go all in. The doberman chuckled, shuddering through her fingers as she grasped the back of his skull to fully impale his neck. All whilst Rose kept bobbing on his pecker, and Cammy sucked his balls.

"Mmmmmph yeah...birdy's so hungry for my fat doggy dick huh?"

"MMMm, MMMHMM!"

"That's good...it's real cold out there, really builds up an appetite, yeah?"

A hungry lick of her lips went unseen as James started bobbing, though it was mostly Elza who would pull back her hips and slap them down. Building up a steady pace, she fucked his throat and felt it creak with her girth, stretching his gullet and feeling the contours of his wet sucking tongue. The dog undulated her hips, pumping faster with a delicious moan, her thick plums whapping his beak.

Corck could barely taste the pre anymore, nothing but the dark rich salami that shunted down his throat, flossing his neck with Elza bending over him in a deep snarling hiss. The rookie pushed forwards to let her bottom out all she wanted, groaning with a suffocating wheeze as her spear thickened for the approaching climax.

With a ferocious howl, she filled Jamesy's belly, a gushing froth of hot lady milk that splattered the back of his throat, and sloshed down so deep he didn't even need to swallow. But swallow he did by reflex, which pleased his mistress as she felt his throat clench, milking her strong, flexing salchichon.

"Haaaaah...f-fucking yes," she stroked over his cheeks, "mommy doggy's very proud of her sweet birdy...you still hungry?"

"Mmmm, m-mmhmm," he mumbled.

"Good...so are we."

She started fucking his face again, the griffon trapped by her juicy schlong he didn't even notice his next two orgasms. Rose was ravenous still, slobbering her damp tongue across the head of his popsicle, and sometimes sharing with Cammy, when both of them licked either side. Other times they lapped for each bollock, letting his cum paint their faces as their cold noses rubbed over his length.

The biker-bitch kept hammering away, feeling Corck find his breathing and more easily take her thick staff. Every time his beak touched her belly, she shivered with a happy whine, her fingers digging in his scalp and smacking the bird's beak until he felt a numbing bruise. Drunk on her scents and taste, Jamesy only bobbed when Elza stopped, eyes looking up with a happy squawk.

"H-haaaah, f-fucking...mmmmh, drink up that doggy milk like a good boy...mmmmph, if you drink it all, I'll give you a real treat up your ass."

"MMMH!" Jamesy nodded eager.

"Clean my gun a little more, rookie. I'm still loaded up, and I'm not leaving this place 'til I'm emptier than you."

Stretching her arms behind her, she watched Jamesy throat by himself with a tickly little cough, his head trembling each time he went deep to the hilt. The zipper of her suit jangled beneath his neck, the hounds slurping his melons until the feathers were slicked down.

Rose had her fill by this point, satisfied after 10 orgasms sucked dry from the griffon as Cammy got to enjoy their new meal. With a torn-open neck, the bird's sausage dangled out of her throat, scratching against dead fur, an old stiff paintbrush over his glans.

Corck flinched from every breathless suck, the grinding rub of her throat cavity keeping him on edge as he dripped like a broken faucet. But still he kept swallowing, fat globs of Elza's jizz smothering his stomach, her massive tangerines pressing against his neck fluff with a monstrous heat. Then Cammy climbed onto him, hungry to be filled in her other end as she slammed herself deep on his member.

Just as frigid as Rose, the other mutt rasped with a shivering instinct at the scraping head in her folds, deathly still and stealing his heat when he pumped in her cunt. The undead bitch hugged him tight mid-fuck, her tongue slathering across Elza's fat spear.

"Goood bitches," chuckled the biker, "see birdy? You got nothing to fear, long as you keep filling them."

Elza stroked Cammy's head, pushing their faces close to have them almost kiss, one mouth swallowing the sausage and the other slurping along for Corck to taste the dog's saliva. Cold drool was added to Elza's chorizo, a taste that James was too horny to care about as he gulped that down in turn.

Overwhelmed by the lust of three bitches, James couldn't stop himself shooting twice into Cammy's puss, then feeling his cum spray out over his belly and realise with horror he was shooting out her abdominal gap. Warnings flashed in his head, but were silenced once more by the taste and smell of Elza's rich swollen lance.

After the fourth orgasm, Elza pulled back with a long shlorp of drooling white, giving James a chance to see Cammy grinding on his hips. He also saw his own fleshy harpoon inside her belly, the hollow abdomen like a grisly puppet theatre where his twitching friend kept spurting. Drizzling seed poured out of her gaping wound, the rookie shooting out on his own stomach as a cold terror rippled brief through his spine.

"Fucking...yes," Elza shivered, "alright, I'm feelin' a dirty bitch so how 'bout you clean me up before we get to usin' your feathery ass?"

"Clean you up?" James licked his cummy beak. "S-sure, the showers are upstairs, second floor and down the hall-"

"No no, no...YOU, clean me."

She hopped back on the desk beside James and offered her boots, unzipping them with a trembling purr whilst her bitch kept riding. The heavy shoes slipped off to reveal a pair of plantigrade feet, long brown soles with juicy thick black beans and dark clawed toes. With a heavy clump the boots fell, as Elza pressed both of her thick paws against Jamesy's face.

He shivered at the scents peppering her fur; gravel from old, abandoned streets; clinical wipes from forbidden laboratories; the cold clinging damp of sewer drains; and the rotting sweetness like a warm mushroom.

Rose eventually slipped up to start licking up Corck's seed, dragging her tongue with a cold ticklish sensation up to her partner's thigh. She stuffed her head into the open stomach and kept licking his member, the stiffness of cuntlips and a slobbering BJ combined sending him over the edge again, spraying on one dog's cavity, and another dog's face.

The rookie worked across one foot to the other, grazing hard along the soles and sucking each individual toe. The claws scratched at his tongue with flexing shiver, spreading the digits to let him dig between and extract the purest aroma of roads and trenches. Ditch water trickled out, the odd sprig of a dead herb gave a minty tinge, and again, that constant odour of something not-quite living.

"Good bitch," she pulled back her paws, "now lemme spin you round and help you fill Cammy."

"Oh, kay," the bird whimpered, still thrusting, "she, i-is she...dead?"

"You're not stupid," she spun him round with her feet, "you know what we are, and the longer you keep shooting, the safer you'll be."

"Yeah, haaah...fuck this feels so weird but it's the best sex I've had in years."

"Oh, I bet it is." Her legs slipped round the chair, to slide over his thighs. "Now just sit back and take it easy...we're gonna empty out them male udders, you've been carrying them so long as such a burden on your poor little body."

The bird watched her newly-wet paws slip into Cammy's belly, pushing Rose aside who went back to slurping over his sack. Elza's feet grabbed at his pole, the rubber-hard beans scraping down his length to pull back the foreskin a few times as she started pumping. The bizarre footjob made the griffon clench, tightening fingers on the armrests as the doggy soles grinded on his skin, the toes tickling the barbed head as Jamesy fucked between them and Cammy's cunt.

The labcoat of his partner hung like a mourning veil, a black wet dripping against his leg as she gasped with vapid stare, her tongue wagging in primal need. Elza squeezed the head between her toes, rubbing the web like twisting a wrench to make him sputter hard, dribbling down on her paws as she pressed harder. From the desk, her bosom smooshed against Jamesy's head, and her shaft grinded the back of the chair with audible creak.

The biker-mutt fondled him with her soles, the sweet, damp, caramel fur bristling hot against his halberd that kept slamming into the missing gut. Cammy whimpered with a vague remembrance, a tingling pleasure as she started to cum, some unknown valve gushing forth to smother a crimson flood from where her womb had once been.

"Look how happy she is," Elza whispered, "feel how happy you are...giving up your thick ostrich eggs to make these girls happy."

"Haaah, m-mmmph!" James reared his head back to look at her. "This is, awesome, I don't want it to end."

"I don't want it to either," she bent down to lick his scalp, "gonna baste my feet in your turkey juice, for you to lick up clean again."

That comment alone made him spurt once more, a fountain of seed slathering her paws and mixing with the bloody stew in Cammy's belly. The dog-leader dipped her paws in the cold crimson, smothering Corck's shaft with a fine ruby that shone with his semen.

Grabbing his sceptre tight, she locked her toes together and pumped him proper, masturbating with a firm, practiced pace. Rose's tongue between his legs was almost lost in the sensations, until the soft bite of her teasing teeth made him yelp and shoot harder.

He lost track of whether he came twice or thrice, but it was enough to paint the dark chocolate feet into a creamy pale, a fluttering breath at the soft pillowy rub of Elza's leather paws. The padded beans grinded down a few more times before pulling back, leaving trails of white and scarlet that she brought to his beak.

"Time for dessert," Elza teased, "eat up, then I break open your ass like you cops do with doors."

"Mmmm, ohh I been waiting for that," James whispered, "you're really making my night, you know that?"

"Oh, I know, little birdy, an itchy scratch that becomes so...tasty."

Her grin was the devil's own as she sat further back on the desk. Pressing her paws on his face, she smothered him in the rich goo of blood and semen. While his cum helped him drink it, the cold, coppery taste was a bitter undertone that complimented the earthy tones of her sweet shroomy aroma.

"Get up," she ordered him, "Cammy's getting the best fuck of her death, and YOU the best fuck of your life."

"Oh, YES!" the griffon shrieked bouncing his thighs. "I'll fuck long as you girls can last, I'll fuck all week long!"

"Heheh, oh I bet you will...all week, and the month after that. Now get on the ground and mount my bitch."

Corck laid on the floor with Cammy underneath, the mutt shuddering when he slammed ruthlessly in her cold juicy peach. The rookie hammered fast, rubbing the dog's back against the stone floor with each shove when he felt hands grip his rear.

He heard the creak of Elza's suit, before the shaft rubbed his rump, a burning spear as she fully pulled down his pants to expose his furry pucker. She grabbed his leonine tail that wrapped happily round her fingers, yanking him back to impale the bird on her hefty pole. Jamesy squawked in bliss, the gaping of his hole accompanied by immense volcanic heat surging through his walls, as he pushed back against her.

"Ooooh...not as tight as I thought," the bitch-biker giggled, "but just right for me, a perfect little donut from my favourite cop."

"MMMMPH, AAAH! You want cream on that, m-ma'am!?"

"Hah, hahaha, if I fuck hard enough I might get jam! Or maybe." She grabbed at his plums making the bird flinch mid-thrust. "I might be hungry for them ostrich eggs I mentioned."

"HAH, A-AAAH!"

"Are you getting harder? You are, you dirty birdy." Her claws twisted the nerve between his balls. "Big fucking mountain oysters like these, I bet they're juicy in my mouth. But that's my treat for later, you got your own dinner to eat, right Rose?"

Shambling in front of Corck, the other dog presented her pussy. Cammy growled demanding he keep thrusting, the bird humping again when Elza released his sack, a fiery burn running through from her pinch as he leaned forwards to lick Rose.

She tasted like frozen strawberry purée, with extra griffon milk as the beast shuddered in bliss. Elza stuffed deeper inside, shoving his beak against her bitch with each slap of her huge melons, the stretching of his folds trembling through her thick veins, her fingers digging in his thighs as his tail glided across her skintight suit.

Pounding into Cammy, Jamesy felt the cold air whistling over his glans every time he hilted. The rancid mutt slobbered over his neck, her teeth teasing his feathers as he kept sucking Rose's folds, swirling his tongue around the stiff walls and plucking them free of the last remaining juices. A taste like warm metal filled his beak, thick like jam, nostrils shoved against her stiff pussy lips with every smack of Elza's nuts.

The mutt at the front lost control of her footing, and after enough drilling stabs of the rookie's tongue, she crumpled with a spasm of bloody jizz upon his face, that Cammy licked off clean. James couldn't stop himself from kissing, sharing that strange syrupy salt, sucking on her tongue with ravenous lust as he pumped another shot of jizz all over her belly and his.

Elza joined in turn, flooding his depths when he tightened up and sucked her pillar deep in his rear. The dog punched below his stomach, flossing his innards with hot ropes of thick, sweet, lady jizz. He felt his fur stickying up on his rear, drooling white between his legs, the hungering creak of her monster meat straightening his spine.

"Alright," she chuckled, "now let's see about...tenderising you."

"Wait, tenderise?"

"Just something to shake up the bottle, which is already feeling half-empty by now yeah?"

She pulled out with a thick shlap, drenching down his thighs and leaving a long drooling white before pulling James up on his feet. Whistling to the others, she ordered Rose and Cammy to grab the bird's arms, and spread his legs with their knees pushing against.

"HEY, wh-what are you-"

"Shhh...you hear that?" Her ear twitched over to the desk beside them. "Shit, you got a Walkman?!"

"Yeah, um," he looked to the bitches, "what are you, I thought we were fucking!"

"Oh we will, don't worry!" she took up the cassette player. "Beastie Boys eh!? This one just came out."

"I love them!" Jamesy nodded, still throbbing hard. "I don't normally like rap but they're really fun, they're bouncy!"

"Yanno, funny thing, this was the last song I was listening to before I went...under. Takes me back to the stunts I had to take on cuz, well, like I said, can't really do acting in this shithole city."

A look crossed over her face, something strange and solemn on the horizon, a softening look as the two bitches whined at her confusing scent.

"I hate cars, you know?" Elza put on the headphones. "Always loved bikes, feel closer to the wind, feel that bracing rush, knowing any moment, that bike could just flip and your head splits on the gravel. But no...couldn't be an actress, so they made me a stunt-bitch...less unions that way."

She rewound the tape as Corck felt his member slightly wilt, losing momentum as his balls throbbed hungry for more.

"There I was in some shit car, no wind in my hair, no bracing rush," she swished her ponytail, "hit a corner and went rolling...didn't even die the hard way, the sunroof fell on top and pinned me while the carbon monoxide kept choking me. Then I wake up...and I'm in Umbrella's labs. And now I can't die...no matter how many folks I piss off."

Elza clicked the tape, a very tinny rendition of "Intergalactic" bleeding through as she started dancing. Her throbbing spear swung back and forth like a pendulum as she swayed her hips. Jamesy bobbed his head to the beat he had memorised, the dog-bitches keeping still with a grip on his limbs.

His legs stayed open, his balls throbbing between pain and want with his member turning flaccid. Then the lyrics started, and suddenly he remembered Sgt. Spencer. A flash of danger in his brain, just before Elza boot-kicked his balls.

Every rhyme they shouted, Elza crunched his testes with a torpedo kick, driving her whole leg forwards to send Jamesy's plums swinging behind his legs. Even without her boots, her leg was devastating in its brutal crush, smearing them against his pelvis or squishing them so tight that they popped out either side of her bare foot.

"Well, now, DON'T you tell me to SMILE!"

"AAAH!"

"You stick around I'll make it worth your WHILE!"

"S-SQWAK!"

"My number's beyond what you can DIAL!"

"STO-HAAH!"

"Maybe it's because we're so versaTILE!

"OOOOH!"

"STYLE, PROFILE, I said, it always brings me back when I hear OOH CHILD!"

A three-kick combo made his eyes spasm in agony, fluttering moans as he sobbed at the stomping feet. God, what is WITH this fucking town, his thoughts rippled from his brain, why does everyone have to go straight for my balls, this town is fucking cursed!

And yet, there was that other side of him that throbbed even harder, wanted it, yearned to be busted up for that surging heat of blissful agony. Elza knew, somehow, that for every boot to the plums, his shaft sprouted full and squirted on himself harder than when his bitches sucked him. Every thud sent shudders through his legs, her toes clawing with each step, raking scars over feathers and stabbing the scrotum with reddish dots all whilst Elza was smiling, singing her heart out with an echo through the empty hall.

"I am known to do the WOP-"

"OOOF!"

"-also known for the Flintstone FLOP-"

"EEEEK!"

"-Tammy D gets biz on the CROPS-"

"SQWAK!"

"-Beastie Boys known to let the beat......mmmm, DRRROP?!"

She dropped herself in the chair, her foot raised high as the bitches forced James towards her. Pushing him down with increasing weight, his balls were impaled on her outstretched toes as she watched his face contort in desperation. The popping squeak of his tangerines sounded like balloons, her padded beans sliding over the sac, each second stretching to eternity.

Elza licked her lips, her claws plucking the skin when she curled her toes and pulled back her leg. With the force of a striking cobra, she slam-kicked his balls to smoosh them flat, the bird shrieking so high a pitch that all three of the dogs winced.

For the next two-and-a-half minutes she kicked his sack, still in her seat and feeling the squish between her toes while cackling at his tortured expressions. The song felt like an eternity to end, and on the last beat Elza shoved her heel straight in his plums, grinding them like a mortar and pestle.

"Just need to make sure you're empty."

"HAAAAH, NNNNNF!"

"You don't need those anymore, after we're done with you. Such a beautiful pair of milk bags you got, but mine are much better...they'll do all the work you can't even do."

"MMMMPH, OOOOH, H-HAH, HAH!"

The last of his spurts came through, a watery dribble when she twisted the heel to push out his seed. He was ready now, as she whistled to the girls to crawl down on all fours, and circle the griffon like vultures. James gulped with throbbing burn, Elza giving one last kick to make him stagger against the desk, as he struggled to keep standing. The dogs crept up his legs, their jaws twitching as they grabbed one bollock each in their teeth, and pull him hard to the floor.

"A-AAAGH, HEY, N-NOT SO ROUGH, S-SAFEWORD!"

"Oh, did we forget one?" Elza chuckled. "Nowhere is safe in Raccoon City...just accept it."

Her smile changed to mirror the dogs, a vicious hunger awakening through her curled lips. Rose and Cammy pulled him harder, until he was fully down with their fangs raking over his melons. They teased with firm bites, squishing down like cream buns, forcing more of his cum to shoot out as Elza joined them in the middle, lapping along the shaft and sucking up his jizz.

Before the first bite, Rose's head exploded in a visceral firework. Two holes popped between her eyes, splitting her skull like soggy paper. Cammy shrieked at something behind James, before she too was blasted, her eye popping inwards with a deafening gunshot.

"SH-SHIT!"

"HANDS IN THE AIR, STEP AWAY FROM HIM!" a young voice barked.

"Heh...sure." Elza stood up raising her hands. "You gonna take me out back, Old Yeller style where there's no cameras?"

"Keep your hands up, and back away!"

"My girls weren't even armed, fucking cop always shoots first."

Corck was trembling, his head ringing from the shots and his eyes blurring when he saw a blue shadow step over him. A long tail, leonine like his own, but sandy and thinner. The dog biker stepped back to the ramp, pressing against the railing as the newcomer approached. Even with his faded vision, he saw it was a young lion, with sandy cropped hair and a smaller snout, wearing the RPD suit.

"Who are you?" he ordered. "What the hell is happening here?"

"Wouldn't you like to know?" she chuckled. "Didn't get the memo from your chief?"

"What were you doing with this officer? Were you assaulting him?"

"Ask him yourself. He wanted it...right little birdy?"

The moment the newcomer turned his head, Elza grabbed for his gun. James stumbled up reaching past the officer's shoulder to clock the dog's face, her eyes turned black as she shoved both officers away, and with one punch threw the newcomer across the hall. The lion slammed against the west office door, as Elza marched towards the griffon. Corck grabbed the chair and swung for her face, but the dog stopped it with a powerful hand and a dark ebony stare. She wrenched the chair from his hands, and grabbed his throat to lift him up.

" You...are MY pet, little birdy so get BACK in your cage-AUUUGH!"

Another gunshot whistled through, a burst of red rippling through her arm, and tearing a hole in her biker suit as she dropped the griffon. The lion clicked his pistol, the dog chuckling as she suddenly side-flipped over the back wall of the reception desk. Vaulting like a gymnast, her gorgeous beastly shaft sprayed an arc of pre across the floor, zipping herself up mid-air before landing in front of the new cop.

She dodged the second and third shots with demonic speed, before running straight to the underground passage beneath the statue. The lion watched the stone rotate, bars blocking the exit and sealing it off once again, before heading over to the wounded griffon.

"You alright?!"

"Yeah," James gasped, "thank you...for saving me."

"No problem." The newcomer helped him off the floor. "They mess you up good, huh?"

"Y-yeah," he stared at the dead mutts, "I was, there was no one else here, I couldn't take three of them!"

"You a rookie too?" The lion offered his hand. "Leon Kennedy."

"James...James Corck," the griffon shook it, "weren't you supposed to come next Tuesday?"

"I got fast-tracked, the instructor got sick."

"Was it Sgt. Spencer?"

"Hah, the Bionic Ball-Buster?" Leon shook his head. "Nah, not her. So what the hell happened here?"

"I don't know!" James grabbed his clothes from the floor. "Everyone's dealing with some riot at the stadium, and I, you know what, I got put through a hazing that lasted a MONTH!"

"Oh, that bad?" The feline cringed, leaning on the desk. "I thought it was just rumours, wanted to give the city a chance."

"Right?! This city sucks, even when I'm stuck on reception duty shit happens."

"So you...haven't been outside?"

"No. How bad is it?"

The new cop motioned him over to the front door, the bird putting on his jacket and hobbling over with the pain in his balls still throbbing. The first thing he saw were the rising flames covering rooftops. Then he heard the screams, with dozens of police sirens filling the air, an urban symphony of violence. The roads were clogged with broken cars, the sickly smell of burning bodies whispering through.

"What...the fuck." James gasped.

"Yeah," Leon rubbed his neck, "is there a command post set up?"

"You're asking me?!"

"Well yeah, you're the only officer I met who's still alive."

"Shit," Corck took a deep breath, "okay...I'm...gonna find a radio, and call whoever's still...just, let them know the station's safe."

"Got it," the lion nodded, "I'll follow your lead."

As they walked back inside, their footsteps echoing through the hall, the first thing they did was drag Rose and Cammy's bodies out the front door, dumping them in a side garden to avoid the smell. Then they gathered radio equipment to set up a hub in the press room, calling through every badge number, and ticking off whoever responded.

Whilst Kennedy got himself acquainted to his new surroundings, Jamesy sighed with relief. Finally, a good cop who won't bust my balls, he thought to himself, before he searched his pockets with a terrible realisation.

"What...that bitch took my Walkman." He threw up his hands. "FUCK, it's one fucking thing after another in this FUCKING CITY!"