FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

First draft, hopefully it'll stop fucking up my text -_-

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"A message for you, Milady. It arrived during your meeting." Vorel took the scroll from the servant's outstretched hand and dismissed her with a nod. She unrolled the parchment and perused the spidery handwriting contained within. Queen Ashurha: Your audience is requested by one Lady Haifa Sunamun to barter for a tome bound in the flesh of a Wampyre. She believes the book to be of occult significance (of a darker nature) and wishes to be rid of it at once. My lady knows that you are an expert on and collector of such rarities, and would be willing to offer the grimoire for inspection and possible exchange. Please meet her in the old warehouse near the docks- Lady Sunamun wishes this to remain your secret. Vorel slipped the note into her satchel and, glancing around to make sure no one was watching, opened a portal to the seaside district.

The queen arrived amid a throng of citizens laughing, drinking, and dancing in the street. Elevated on a stage in the center of the crowd was a young girl and her pet goat, dancing to the beat of a tambourine. Vorel watched the way her people tossed their coins at the pretty young drow undulating and winking before them, smiling to herself at how easily they could be entertained. A small pinch roused Vorel's ire and she slapped at her neck, muttering a curse to insects beneath her breath. As she drank in the spectacle, the beat of the music began to pound more quickly and the maiden spun faster, laughing joyously as her pet leapt about and shook the instrument clamped in his mouth. Vorel's vision began to blacken, hiding everything but the stage, the music ringing in her ears, the scent of sweat on the air... "My liege, I asked you to meet me at the warehouse," a voice hissed in the necromancer's ear, "what are you doing over here?" Vorel shook her head and glanced about. Night had fallen as she drifted off, the throng had dissipated, and her head ached.

"Lady Sunamun, I presume?" The robed figure grasping her arm nodded. "Well, then, let us move to the building you had in mind." Vorel rose to her feet, wobbling on her shaky legs. Haifa supported her as they walked, half-carrying the afflicted queen as they wound their way through the dark alleys. Eventually the dark warehouse loomed over the pair, as ominous in the twilight as it was in the sun. Lady Sunamun pushed the door open and carried her charge through the threshold, setting her down in a rickety wicker chair. Vorel fought to keep her eyes open as the noble pulled the book out and placed it in front of her. She was dizzy, her head swam, but she had to know what sort of artifact she could gain from this meeting. The grimoire was covered in a thick, black knobby skin that pulsed beneath the layer of dust. The silver clasp that held it shut was graced by a polished red eyeball that rolled around in its socket, its black iris dilating in the candlelight. Vorel tried to grin, but her face wouldn't work right. "Is... Is there an inscription, on the.. The.. Right there?" She pointed at the cover, squinting to read the strange cuneiform swirling and shifting before her eyes. "The book is dusty. Let me help." The robed Haifa leaned down and gently blew towards the cover, sending the grime into Vorel's face. The queen coughed once, twice, and then began to slip out of consciousness. As she began to fade, she heard an insane cackle and a cry of "BE SHAO IBEMELLETH! GURTHAIG TURANNOTH!"

Cold metal clamped tightly around Vorel's wrists and ankles. She noticed the aches in her body as her consciousness began to surface beneath the haze of the magic drug. The necromancer began summoning her magic, but all that came was a sharp stabbing pain- her bindings were enchanted. Vorel opened her eyes and looked at her surroundings, counting on her eidetic memory to record and store everything her eyes chanced upon. A sea of faces glanced back at her, naked denizens of many races babbling and writhing on the rotted wooden floor. Faint traces of memory came back to her then. "Be Shao..." The sound of a gong resonated through the filthy basement as the drow from before ascended the stairs to the makeshift stage, her bare nipples hard in the cold air. "Vorel Kurik, you slaughtered we on travels far, Beneath the dirt in western lands. Here we gather, show you life, we are strong. We share our love of She, Shao, Be, Goddess. We wish to bring her joy to you. With you. Through us. Joining. Joining faith. Joining bodies for the leader. She will be pleased. You will be pleased. Through you she will feel. Pleasure. Pain. Ecstasy. Fear. She feeds upon it. You, you too will feel. Feel the length, feel the horror, join the Goddess in her lust!" Vorel could tell the naked woman had only the barest grasp of Arabic, but the insanity didn't help make her speech any less nonsensical. Around the drow's neck a purple amulet resting between her breasts began to pulsate and shine with a sick green light. Below the dais the crowd began bowing and chanting, eyes locked on the pair before them. The drow woman cackled and shouted nonsense, waving her arms and swaying her body as the words flowed from her tongue. At the base of the stone slab two thick black tentacles appeared and seemed to grasp at the very air itself. They began pulling, ripping a twisted green portal open and forcing themselves through. The thinnest of the pair began crawling up her leg, its rubbery hide covered with tiny suckers that seemed to exalt in the taste of her fur. Normally unshakeable, the queen was revolted by the monster from beyond their world. As it reached her hips, it began feeling around beneath her linen skirt. It slid over to her gossamer panties and began rubbing the mound beneath them. Vorel drew a hissing breath as her manufactured organ began to respond to the foreign touch. A spot of dampness appeared on the soft material- she was wet. Beside her stood the blue-skinned drow, salivating and watching with hungry eyes. The captive queen could see that she, too was excited by the actions of the strange beast from the portal.

The tentacle began to tear at her undergarments, exposing her flesh for all to see. It ran itself along her moistened slit, tiny suckers on the underside beginning to work at her warm, eager clitoris. A moan escaped her lips. Vorel's tall ears picked up the sound of flesh rubbing against flesh and fevered panting coming from the crowd. She turned her head to witness the strange Be Shao cultists beginning to pleasure themselves to her spectacle. Four more tentacles lashed out from the rift, two thicker than their brothers and glistening with a luminescent silver liquid. The thinner one slashed through the magical steel holding her down and wrapped themselves around her legs, wrenching them apart, baring her cunt to whatever being lay with its body just out of sight. One of the remaining free appendages, thicker than the other, shot forward and parted her womanhood with no ceremony, shoving itself deep inside of the jackal prone on the table. It began to pull itself out, writhing and undulating inside of her, only to slam into her tight vagina once more. Vorel fought to keep her wits, to keep her rage, to stay herself, but it was becoming impossible- her suit was dominating her will, submitting itself to the pleasure, the sensation, of the magic of the insane goddess. In the back of her mind, Vorel felt as though she were a prisoner forced to watch the molestation of the haven for her soul. Somehow she could tell that the sudden wave of hunger and lust radiating from her hot, dripping body was the silver liquid, but the knowledge was useless to her. She was still unable to cast, and she wasn't entirely should that her magic would come even if she wanted it to. Vorel's body sighed and began rocking its hips to the rhythm of the tentacle, exalting in the feel of the throbbing appendage twisting about inside her. It stretched her flesh more with each wet thrust, widening her to take more and more of its rubbery length.

As her sweet-smelling juices dripped onto the slab she rested upon, the tentacle that remained began worming its way beneath her. It found what it was looking for in the soft, puckered flesh of her anus. "No, no, I draw the line there, stop, please, I-" she choked off her words with a scream as it entered her virgin ass, ripping the skin with a bloody squelch. It drilled itself into her, unrelenting, her nerves burning with agony. The two batrachian horrors inside of her warm nether regions began to alternate, sliding in and out of her orifices in perfect rhythm. Her cum ran red with the blood from her wound, but as the chemical secretions began to take effect she stopped caring. As they worked themselves through her sexual cavities, the voyeur cultists caught her attention. The priestess on the dais was penetrating her own wet pussy with what appeared to be an idol of some sort, moaning and babbling as she left a gleaming trail on her toy. The crowd had massed into an orgy of the mental, bodies heaving and sweating as they fucked indiscriminately. Sighs and howls and sobs issued from the sea of flesh, all races united in their lust and madness. The drow, watching as she pounded her own eager flesh, tilted her head almost as if in contemplation. She placed her hand upon her amulet and whispered a skittering dialect in the direction of the dark hole. A myriad of the strange black appendages burst forth, seizing Vorel's bucking form. Her wrists were freed much like her legs, only to be seized and held behind her. Two of the thinner limbs shot forth and wound their way around her ample bosoms, ripping away her silken wrap and revealing her breasts to the assault. The pair began to squeeze and pull at her skin, distorting and stretching her breasts back and forth. Their thin, rounded tips opened to reveal tiny maws that began lapping and sucking at her black nipples, sending a howl of excitement from Vorel's captor who maintained her vigilant masturbation at the jackal's side. Vorel watched with eager eyes as she was also grabbed around her slender waist and throat, the feel of the alien arms almost an aphrodisiac. At this moment, she was full of joy, her mind open to the wonders of the Mad Goddess Be Shao. There was no end to the damned thing, probing every inch of her now-naked body before the cultists, her vagina and asshole being methodically reamed, her hot clitoris burning with the pleasure of the one tending it, her breasts tingling from the silver secretion of the two fondling her chest almost lovingly. Every time she neared an explosive finish, ever tentacle slowed its movements nearly to a crawl. They wanted to prolong this, but she could not figure out why.

"Come! Come! COME! Now. Reach. The snake is full to bursting. Let the beast devour its seed. Be Shao, Ibemmelleth! Come to me! Come for me! Come for the Goddess and fill this wretched woman with your might! Bring her to the chasm and throw her into the blackness! Writhe inside, feeding, biting, breeding, sneaking. All for the Goddess! All for the Senses! Let our Goddess feel the pleasure! Bathe this vessel in your dreams, your desires, your machinations! Grease her, oil her, shower her with praise! Come forth, Bakkynar, and take her for your own!" As the priestess shouted her nonsense praises, every cultist began to chant nearly breathlessly, slowing their massive sex to bring forth something horrible from the portal. A tentacle thicker than the rest, tipped with silver broke through the rift and began toward Vorel. Every pair of eyes watched as the end shifted almost liquidly, finally setting on what appeared to be a long, thick human phallus lined with gentle ridges and crowned by soft, pliable spikes. It caressed the helpless queen's lips and bushed itself against the soft fur of her face, sending shivers of longing throughout her body. "Tell me, necromancer, will you submit yourself to me? I will bring you the greatest ecstasy you will ever experience. I will make you come torrents, screaming in pleasure as you beg for it to never end. Will you bend for me? Will you meld with me? Will you let me enter not only your sacred body but your soul, your mind, your senses? Your body is already mine, but you are the real prize... a being of incredible power, brimming with sexual energy always restrained by the cold logic of your undead mind... Let me help you. Let me fuck you as you have never been, penetrated deeper than any mortal, raped and spent and fulfilled for the first time in your blood-stained life. Just say it. Beg me. Beg me with the Voice. The Voice of death itself. Beg and plead for me as none others have." Vorel took a breath and swallowed, calling upon the Necroverbus with all the power she could muster. "Please, please, I need it, I want it, fuck me, ravage me, rape my mind, my soul, my body. Reach where no mortal can reach, caress me and penetrate me and drown me in your hot spend. I know not what you are- I care not what you are, just, please, God, monster, whatever you are, make me cum!" The hollow, chilling speech of the dead echoed throughout the large, dank room, bringing cheers from the cultists writhing around on the floor though there was no way they could understand her words. Some primal part of them had felt the magic, had felt an agreement come between the hapless jackal and her assaulter. They began to pick up speed, even their blue-skinned priestess taking part as the began to squeeze her breasts with pointed nails, drawing blood as she squatted down on her sexual idol. Something had shifted, and they could all tell.

Light pressure against her lips caused Vorel to part them, accepting the shimmering cock-tipped tentacle into her mouth. The strange features sprouting from it massaged her mouth as she began to roll her tongue along its shaft. She could taste something foreign, something almost like copper on her taste buds with a gentle tingling effect. Could this be the silver chemical coating so many of the limbs, driving her body into a sexual frenzy? It... it tasted good. The necromancer craved more of the alien liquid and began to suckle at the tentacle, carefully at first, but as the others resumed their duties with a fury she began sucking harder, massaging with her tongue and nipping gently with her sharp fangs. The tentacle began forcing itself deeper into her throat, cutting off her air, pulling itself out of her esophagus as its base throbbed against her lips. The two thick appendages penetrating her dripping cunt and tight, clenched ass began to ream her hard, wriggling and thrusting deep inside of her as she bucked and shoved her hips into them. Every tentacle holding her body tightened and began to lift her, holding her high above the dais and rotating her so that she was forced into a bent, submissive pose. Her breasts hung taught, bulging from the pressure applied by the two mawed abominations still stretching and sucking at her bosom. The tentacles bent her knees and forced her legs wider as the two worked deeper inside her. The cultists looked up as they fucked, hooting and howling and pointing at the bulges now showing against the tight flesh of her stomach. As she hung there, powerless, being bored into by the strong limbs, dripping her lubrication onto the crowd below her, aroused by the voyeurism and the violation, the rubbery alien lengths lodged in her orifices began to vibrate. Vorel choked around the silver cock in her throat as she tried to moan, every nerve in her body on fire with ecstasy. In, out. In, out. Slipping as easily as though her body were made for them. Her golden eyes began to glow black as the clitoral tentacle picked up speed, sliding along her slick slit as she began to shudder in the throes of orgasm. Inside her she could feel the other two limbs shift to match the one she deep throated, feeling the ridges and spines hitting every bend of her flesh. Her joints locked as she screamed in ecstasy, unleashing a torrent of hot cum down upon the moaning, sweat-coated cultists, who moved to lick up the mess as though it was manna from the heavens. As she finished violently, each of the three phallic probes inside her flooded her body with their hot glowing semen, causing the fluid to leak from her every orifice. Cum ran down her throat and she swallowed, relishing the mildly sour taste and the feel of it flowing down into her stomach. They pulled out of her body mid-ejaculation, sending their remaining seed to coat her fur in a steaming, sticky mess. She hung there, spent, dripping the mingling fluids as she panted, the glow in her eyes receding as her heart rate slowed. Gently she was lowered back to the stone table, the lingering arms hesitant to leave her wet body. Vorel lay there, exhausted, elated, and still full of lust. You are mine completely, Rashida. Do not forget. You belong to me. "Praise...praise be Be Shao... Praise... Praise be... Sot... Sot-Amenthotep..." she panted, smiling weakly, caressing the throbbing cum-covered tentacle still resting near her head. Her flesh stung as it mended itself, her artifact taking care of the rips caused by her sexual assault.

Fhht. Fhhht. Fhhht. There was a horrible shriek as purple blood began to seep from the creature's lengths. It thrashed about, scrambling to pull itself inside as a hail of arrows descended upon the raised altar. Not one missed their mark, fired so rapidly that they seemed to be simply migrated into the beast. A leather-clad form bounded over the bodies, his bow knocked and aimed at the swirling dimensional tear. He muttered beneath his breath and his arrows began to glow with a vibrant red energy. He attacked, sending them through to the creature's main body as he leapt and dodged the frantic flails of the ropey limbs. Vorel lifted her head groggily, watching her dashing hero make his way toward where she lay. "V...Valgar?" As he mounted the altar he dug his webbed claws into the meaty flesh of one of the pseudopod's extraneous limbs. With a disgusting wet rip, he tore it free, pulling its master with it. Before the room stood a tall, slender creature. Vaguely humanoid, its jet black skin seemed to writhe as though living. It had one eye, sideways in the center of its forehead, emanating silver energy. It looked upon Vorel and seemed to grin with a mouth that stretched all the way around his head. Every tentacle connected to him at the back, save for the magnificent silver-tipped probe which rested below its pelvis. Valgar drew two knives and leapt at the creature after the initial shock wore off, a blur of purple and white against the faster whirl of black. Red and violet blood splashed the ground as the two battled, growls and hisses issuing from their cloud of violence. Finally Valgar's smooth voice roared with might and he drove both blades into the creature's skull, burying them past the handles and cracking the strong bone. He collapsed, panting, nursing an injured arm festering with silver venom. Leaving his swords behind he slung the supple bow over his shoulder and took a flask of water from his pouch, which he offered to his mate. "Drink, my love. It will help." Vorel drank deep of the icy water, feeling her head clear though she still felt the lingering burning desire. When she was finished, Valgar poured a few drops on his wound, biting his lip from the cold shock. It began to seal itself shut, the flesh knitting together and leaving only the barest silver scar. "Come. We need to get out of here." He lifted the queen to her feet, but she held up a hand as he tried to lead her out. "Followers of Be Shao," she boomed, running her eyes along the filthy cultists laying in her juices, "I appreciate your... peculiar form of Evangelism, but know this: She can bring you to orgasm, yet I can grant you everlasting life and pleasure." She bent her head and muttered, gesturing with her hands. A green shadow seemed to appear around each, and as she motioned moans surfaced from everyone in attendance- her mate included. Vorel cancled the spell and waited. From the back arose a cry. "Praise be to Ashurha, Mistress Undying!" Cheers resounded and a sly grin cracked the Necromancer's serious features. "Then you shall have life eternal!" She clenched her fists, black energy swirling around her as she chanted in the blood-curdling language of Death. A sea of blackish-violet light bathed the cultists and their priestess, whirling around them like a dervish of undeath. One by one their souls began to leave their forms, joining the storm, confused and terrified. Bodies dropped to the floor void of spirits. As they all collapsed, she opened her mouth and began to inhale. Soul after soul flew toward her, helpless to break free of her spell. She consumed spirit after spirit, her will overpowering theirs tenfold, memories flooding her mind, sensations hitting every nerve, emotions barreling into her. She took them all and stored them, knowledge of Be Shao rituals and meeting places all over Egypt filed away in her analytic mind. The necromancer took a knee as the mental assault subsided and began to chant once more. Sick green energy flowed from her withering hands and enveloped every corpse in the room. Her voice grew louder and the bodies began to shift and jerk erratically, rising on shaky legs to the beat of her words. Finally she began to scream, gesturing toward the ceiling. Her zombies obeyed, drawing themselves to their full heights and shambling toward her. "Good, good... wait further instruction." She turned to her lover, full of pride. Vorel was surprised to see that beneath the leather greaves he was aroused, made evident by the uneven way they rested against his scaled legs. "What has you all excited? I didn't think we shared the same love of the dead." Valgar glanced at the floor. "I just... the way you hung there, every orifice stuffed full of that monster, glistening with your fluids as it shoved itself into you..." Vorel was upon him then, ripping through the hardened leather to his muscular body beneath. "Take me, Valgar," she hissed, biting at his thigh, "I want you to share the pleasure with me." She pushed him down and flipped him over, forcing him onto all fours. With one hand she began to spread his rump; with the other, she gripped the silver phallus, still throbbing at her touch, and began to run it along the length of his rump. Forcefully she entered him, gripping his cheek as she penetrated his virgin anus. "I'm going to fuck you silly, you know," she whispered in his ear, grinding her pelvis against the section of tentacle not inside him, "and you are going to beg for more." Vorel relinquished her grip of his ass and reached around to stroke his erect manhood. Valgar moaned as she picked up speed, thrusting his hips with her movements. With a whispered spell the tentacle began to move of its own accord, rubbing against his prostate as it forced itself in and out of his tail-hole. Vorel slid underneath and impaled herself on his erection, riding him until he exploded within her, gasping and panting for breath. She wrapped him in her fur-matted arms and kissed him, canceling her spell as they parted. "Vorel?" "Yes, my love?" "We're not keeping that thing, are we?" The queen chuckled. "Of course not. We're burning it."

They left the warehouse behind them, the memory of the past events roaring in the flames behind them. A portal provided them with a fast route back to their glorious palace, unseen by mortal eyes. A cloaked figure, however, stood leaning against the burning building, its face hidden beneath its hood. The satisfied aura, however, was clear as day. It turned and walked into the sunrise, fading with the smoke.