FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

In the dark Celina wondered if anyone would call her CeCe again. It was a silly if not depressing thought, like thinking too deeply about a comedy where misfortune was the punchline. Still, it kept her mind active and blocked out the gagged cries and sniffles from her fellow trafficking victims.

She felt the same fear and despair. That her freedom was gone, stolen from her, and replaced with a price tag she couldn't see. But the African wild dog had cried enough during her training. By the time they pulled the burlap sack over her head, locked her limbs, and tethered the canine to what she assumed was a shipping crate Celina had given up any hope of returning to whatever her old life was. The videos they made her watch and the constant noise even when resting made it difficult to pin down her prior days. All she knew was her name and the nickname friends called her, but the faces were blotted out. So Celina clutched her name tight, tighter than the bonds meant to break the captives further.

A latch pulled to her right. She shivered, surprising herself that she still had enough left to be broken by her traffickers and trainers. Rusted hinges screeched over the gagged gasps and squeals, followed by heavy hooves clanging against metal.

"That one," a female voice said. Someone yanked Celina up by her collar. Cautiously the dog stepped her foot forward, trying to find purchase rather than reel against whoever held her.

"Move it!" A man yelled. Not knowing where to go, Celina moved forward. Someone led her out of the shipping container. From cold metal to cold concrete she followed hooved steps until the pattern of tiles pressed against her paws.

"Arms up."

She obeyed. The ropes between her wrists slipped into the cradle of a hook, keeping her arms above her head. The pulley squeaked, forcing her to stand on her toes less as she risked hurting herself. Someone pulled off her burlap hood. A torrent of icy water hit her face before she could see what was happening. Her cries were garbled against the thick gag in her maw.

"Turn around!" Someone called out, blasting another torrent of icy water over her back when she did. A pair of hands roughly lathered shampoo over her entire body. Celina knew better than to struggle, but her nerves pushed her to twitch at every sensitive spot. Her captors didn't care. She was just meat, property that needed to be cleaned for her potential buyer. They spared a clean towel not out of the kindness of their hearts but to make sure she was presentable.

After her cold wash and rough handling with a hairdresser for curly hair, a mare in a red business skirt suit locked a leash around her collar. The woman was short for an equine, just an inch or two above Celina if she stood on her toes. She dared not say such a thing, biting her lips to keep herself quiet when the gag no longer filled it. As trained, she kept her head down when the mare pulled her along, eyes focused on the hooves of her leaseholder.

When carpet covered the cement floors Celina knew she was entering the buyers' suites. Where the rich lounge and barter on the desperate and unfortunate. Sometimes through one-way mirrors, and others in person with the clients. If she had to choose, a luxury the canine could no longer afford, Celina would pick seeing her new owners in person first. It would be less anxious than wondering which faceless entity paid more.

Past a door, she was made to stand still with her hands by her sides and chest puffed out. "Mr. Black, Mr. White, this is product #3535." A riding crop braced her chin to angle her eyes upward. Across the room sitting on rich leather chairs were two stallions. One of onyx black fur in a warm white suit, the other an opposing image of cream white fur and a navy blue suit. Their manes were combed back and each wore several scars across their faces, none of which hampered their chiseled frames.

"She's not a ten," said the stallion she assumed was Mr. White. "The way you priced her made it seem such."

"Our pricing is not just beauty, Mr. White. It is capability as well. We've made sure #3535 went through the most rigorous endurance training without adding any unsightly muscle." The mare's words brought back the nights of those sessions. Hours of running, breaking rocks, or moving rubble. Meaningless labor piled on with sexual abuse.

The two stallions circled her. One grabbed her chin without care or malice, squeezing it until she opened it. He spat into her mouth. "What is your name?"

Celina, she thought. Celina, Cece, or any variation of the name her parents gave her. Her fingers twitched at every urge she fought to clench them. "My name is whatever you wish it to be, sir."

Mr. White smiled but did not let go. "There was a little hesitation there. Good. The broken ones are a waste of money. We have no interest in guiding our girls every step of the way."

"It does get old after a while," Mr. Black said from behind, his rough hand spreading her butt. "Though when they're fully broken there's less parts to prep. I wonder how good her ass is."

The sudden prodding of her ring from Mr. Black's finger made Celina grunt and squirm. Her efforts to twist around against her will were thwarted by Mr. White's grip. "Did I say you could look away?" He asked, his voice harsh again. His thumb grounded her tongue like a rake through leaves. "It doesn't matter what my partner here does. You keep your eyes on me until I tell you otherwise. Are we clear?" What garbled response she could give fell on deaf ears as he nodded her head. "Good. So don't look away."

Whether Mr. Black heard didn't matter as much as his fingers exploring her asshole. They sank in not with force but curiosity, eagerly pushing inch by inch inside her. He propped the walls, going from tip to knuckle while Mr. White held her panting mouth open. "Not bad." The stallion groped her ass one out of it, finger still wet. "Loose enough to finger fuck, probably still needs lube for cock."

"Everyone needs lube for cock unless you wanna put them out of commission." Mr. White's tone shook Celina's mind while her trained body stood still. He waved his head to the mare, "We'd like to try out the product. Leave us."

The mare bowed her head but remained where she stood. "My apologies, but it's against the policy to leave until a client has made a decision. We've had complications in the past of clients breaking merchandise when 'trying'. No offense intended."

Mr. White huffed. Mr. Black laughed as his hand clasped Celina's shoulder. "Jackasses really ruin it for the rest of us, don't they? You always told me you liked having an audience." He said to his compatriot.

The stallion removed his frustration along with his sleeves as he stripped naked. There was a noticeable small pool of fat at his gut, while his chest fit every description of 'barrel-chested' she imagined. The arms hidden by his jacket looked strong enough to snap her neck with a flex, adding surprise in how they hadn't hurt her. Yet.

As Mr. Black undressed, Mr. White pressed his lips against hers. Her single moan of shock was subsided by his tongue slipping inside and claiming its territory. There was no lust or love with his kiss. Only the dominance he radiated alone.

"If you can't pretend like you care, we'll assign you to the wall." Mr. White said, displeased with her lack of effort. "There's no need to have a whore who can't act."

"You're scaring her," Mr. Black's words carried no concern. His long face wore a sneer in the corner of Celina's eye as he leaned over. "Say, bitch. Have you ever been with a stallion before losing your rights?" When she shook her head he frowned and asked, "Why not?"

"They," She gulped down the iron ball that was her past, praying the pain didn't swell tears, "They were too big, sir."

"And now?" Mr. Black asked with a laugh, "Are they still too big?"

"No, sir." She wished they were.

Forced to her knees, Celina opened her mouth for whatever cock came her way. Mr. White spat into her waiting maw instead. Her fists balled instead of letting her body reel. "Did I say I wanted a blowjob?" he pointed to the flaccid monster between his legs, "Give me a handy." She felt his cock slowly grow to an erection in her hands. She lathered it in her saliva, spreading it through her fingers to let it shine. "Thank me for this. Tell me how much you love my cock."

"I love it, sir." She lied. "I want you inside me. To make me feel like a woman."

"Extra bit's unprompted. Maybe the whore's got some prior experience." Mr. Black spread something over his cock from behind her. It was wet, squishy even. "Too bad her acting sucks. She's not even hiding the glare."

"Better than broken. Only the niche fuckers like broken."

Mr. Black hummed the same way one did when nodding as a cold wet finger prodded her backdoor. A thick and flat head followed, forcing Celina to grip her teeth from the intrusion spreading her wide. Two arms slipped under her legs, hoisting her up so gravity could sink her. She squealed from the sudden movement and the spreading, breaking the mask her trainers ingrained into her.

"Damn, you hear that?" Mr. Black chuckled. "Guess she's not as much a size queen as advertised."

"She's taking it, that's good enough." Mr. White lined his cock against her cunt. For a moment she shook her head. A glimpse of defiance and pleading. The stallion saw and returned a small, sadistic, smile before pushing into her.

Mr. Black let go of her legs to hold Celina in an armlock. The girth and strength of their rods held her aloft as they pistoned into her. Whenever Mr. White pushed in, Mr. Black pulled out, and vice versa. Slowly at first, not for her comfort but to balance themselves as they picked up speed.

Once their median rings sank in, Mr. White clasped her neck. "Beg for it, slut. Thank us that we're even using you."

"T-Thank you, sirs!" She cried out, tears straining her cheeks again. Struggling to breathe from his hold, she winced and gasped, mixing with the wet sound of cocks slipping from her orifices and the heavy grunts of her potential buyers. She couldn't feel her legs or the rest of her lower body save for cruel pleasure building against her wishes.

Once their balls smacked her with every thrust they'd stopped caring how quiet she'd become. A masturbation sleeve made no noise and she'd become one with a heartbeat under their thumb. The two stallions lost their pace, filling her together at the same time with rapid pistoning. Mr. Black finished inside her first, leaving her asshole stuffed with his seed. Mr. White followed soon after, overflowing her womb to the point it leaked when he pulled out.

Unceremoniously they dropped her to the floor. Mr. White's wet cock slapped her face, "Clean it up. Now." Knowing better than to disobey, Celina tasted herself thoroughly as she licked Mr. White's cock clean. Mr. Black said the same and for once the wild hound was happy for her regular enemas.

"So, what do you both think?" The mare asked. Celina forgot she was present. The absence of shame she felt spoke volumes.

"She's like fucking a warm but dead fish," Mr. White said, "But she takes orders well. Stretched her out enough that she was not completely useless to anyone smaller than a stallion. She needs too many reminders on how to respond."

"But we like giving direction," Mr. Black added, pulling his pants up. "So we'll take her. When can we expect her to arrive?"

"Excellent! You should have her by the week's end. Just need to get her medical records in order." The mare snapped her fingers. Two men came into the room and pulled her up. One stuffed a thick gag into her maw, the other covered her head with a blinding hood. Celina didn't fight back. She was too tired to think. Next, she knew, the dog was tied and put in a smaller box than the shared shipping container. When she'd next see the light, Celina would have new master's to worship.

She took the time to sleep with what little privacy she had left.