FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

The ship was quiet well into the morning, and just before afternoon, the crew woke up, one by one. Matilda was the first up as always, though far later than usual, owing to the sudden, jarring back-breaking work in the middle of the night, after being shaken out of bed by turbulent space combat. She showered, dressed, brushed her teeth and headed for the commons, where in the kitchen she started on coffee and breakfast. One of her favorite things about the Bastion's design was the close proximity of the life support systems to the commons, and it's main air intake vent was in the actual kitchen. Soon the alluring smell of strong coffee and hot pancakes permeated the ship and flooded the living quarters. This was the kind of wake-up call that was much preferable to a siren shortly before coming under enemy fire.

Harriet rose in her small private quarters, quickly rinsed the engine grease and sweat off of herself that she was too tired to clean up the night before, and made her way to the commons. Her short hair was still a bit mussed but she paid it no mind. By the time the captain and the remaining crew were just entering the mess hall, she had already ravenously devoured two pancakes and washed them down with strong black coffee. Her wake-up routine proceeded with a cigarette from a pack pilfered from Cyrus' private stash. Others blinked at her. "So. Captain Cyrus already knows, but with the parts available, I wasn't able to get everything up to peak efficiency. I know it didn't take long to get out where we were when the attack happened... but we'll be plodding along like our grandparents' ships back to Corpiarri for proper repairs." After she spoke, she took a drag of her cigarette and turned her attention back to her reading material. This information was too much to process before coffee and breakfast. The crew ate silently for a while before the captain cleared his throat. "We're looking at about five days to cover the same distance we traveled in a few hours, and of course we'll have to watch everything closely so we don't break down again. The good news is that we're already out of hostile space," spoke the captain, who for all intents and purposes, looked like shit. Sleep was the last thing on his mind even once he returned to his quarters. His eyes were bloodshot and noticably swollen. He continued after some applause, "Give another round to Harriet here who fired the shot that saved all of our asses, and myself, since I piloted the ship while Edgar and Peter were, shall we say, a little tied up." Peter looked away, his mostly-white coloration ensuring that the blush was quite visible on his face. Edgar laughed with the rest of the crew at that jeer. Matilda went and got the coffee pot, and provided everyone a refill who wanted one as Harriet went on, "Haven't had much chance to pick through all of the shit we took from the wreckage, but I went ahead and downloaded everything noteworthy from the enemy vessel. I deleted a lot of the porn already, but luckily there's a pretty big list of everything we should expect to find among our new cargo. Drugs, disks, guns and body armor mostly... but they intercepted a small slaver vessel." Harriet took a drag of her cigarette as she glanced at Cyrus and continued speaking, "That's who are in the stasis crates we looted from the wreckage. Slaves. According to Francine, they should still be alive in there. In suspended animation, you don't really need to breathe.." "So, we've picked up some guests along with our cargo. I'm sure they're friendly, or at least not dangerous," interrupted the captain, "I want to stress that they are guests, not cargo. With consideration toward the values that led to our founding this profitable, if not always legal, venture of ours, I aim to tell our new passengers that they are now free. If they decide to leave our ship once we land in Corpiarri, so be it. However, I'll leave it up to a vote on whether or not we release them from their stasis before we land for repairs. We will have to share our food and limited sleeping quarters at least until landing."

The crew looked among each other in thought. Matilda clapped her paws together and smiled, the big mama bear chiming in cheerfully, "They can cozy up in Clarissa and mine's quarters! We've got a lot of blankets, and of course that nice rug. That way, they don't have to share a bed if they don't want to!" The sow could always be counted on to extend a hand in hospitable gesture. Others hesitated. "Do we have enough rations, Captain?" asked Francine as she leaned back to recline some in her seat. Her white uniform strained a bit tightly across her large ches breasts. She continued, "Because they'll be quite safe in the crates almost indefinitely and won't need food, water or oxygen." Matilda interrupted, "We're well stocked up! Made sure m'self. Besides, wouldn't you rather let those poor souls out to stretch their legs, even if it means putting some extra crackers in the meatloaf?" She had a point and nearly everyone acknowledged it. Truthfully too, a lot of them were quite curious, as although slavery was a legal institution in many systems throughout the Galaxy, slaves were an expensive luxury for the wealthy. Not one had even met a pleasure slave, save for Cyrus in a run-in with a wealthy client. "Anyone else want to chime in before I start the voting?" asked Cyrus, and he was met with silence, "Alright then. Raise your hand if you think we should crack the cases and let them breathe sweet, sweet recycled air."

The votes in favor were already sufficient that Cyrus needn't take count of those against. Edgar's paw was held high, but Peter's wasn't, until elbowed by the greyhound. Cyrus voted in favor as well, and to his credit, didn't count the skunk's vote after he was pressured into it. "That settles it, crew. We're going to let them out of stasis. Francine, I'd appreciate if you and Clarissa could give each a simple medical examination, on the off chance they might need quarantine. Seems doubtful, no?" The captain looked amused, and then stood up abruptly. He spoke, "No need to hesitate either. if you'll excuse me, everyone, I'm going back to sleep. Piloted this vessel out of hostile space myself, and only just got to bed two hours ago. I'll meet our guests later. Do tell them of their freedom."

The captain was beat. After returning to his quarters, he was asleep before his head hit the pillow. The rest of the crew, at least those in favor, all made their way to the cargo bay, where the spoils of war had accumulated just in front of the airlock. Random odds and ends had to be cleared from on top of the boxes, and then the two strongest crewmembers, Matilda and Edgar, carried each and laid them out with plenty of space between each. Peter looked to Francine as he asked a question, "Do your scanners say what gender they all are?" She poked him in the shoulder and snickered, "That's not as easy to determine through a stasis field as you'd think. That kind of thing can be hidden from the naked eye by a few layers of clothing, can't it? But let's be serious here - why wouldn't they all be female?" Harriet wasn't around to offer her own snarky opinion, as she had disappeared into the engine room where she spent most of her waking hours. "So uh, who wants to do the honors? Should we open 'em all at once?" asked Peter. He had little interest in letting them out, but was chosen on those grounds. The boy skunk hesitated as he pressed the button that had to be pointed out to him, and soon, the crate furthest to the right let out a hiss before the lid swung open on it's hinges. Inside, still asleep, and quite naked, laid a vixen. Her fur was lush and thick and colorless, and her ears smaller than normal. She was after all, an arctic fox. On top of her head was a lush mane of blonde hair, and a corresponding patch of curls could be found just above her otherwise smooth and hairless pussy. Peter stepped back startled. Edgar almost immediately grew stiff in his pants and did his best to adjust himself to hide the lewd tent pitched there as this being of pure fantasy opened her eyes. Peter was standing at her feet and the first one she saw as she opened those pale blue jewels. "Master?" asked the fox, which startled Peter all over again. He stuttered, "N-not exactly! It's a long story. I'm Peter. What's your name?" He bent down and reached out a paw to help her out of that cramped box. However high-tech it looked, the thing resembled a steel coffin, and couldn't be a pleasant place to be, let alone sleep for however long she was in there. The vixen soon stood and looked around with wide eyes. As she met eyes with the other vixen in the room, Francine coughed and positioned Clarissa in front of her. Clarissa, ever the sweet mouse, smiled to the vixen, as did Matilda. Edgar did of course, but it was strained, his pants fitting rather uncomfortably. "My name's Anicha and I'm from the vixen academy. I mean no offense, sirs and madams, but none of you are what I expected to see coming out of stasis... where am I?" The vixen asked this as she looked around, noticing among other things the greyhound's painful erection. "This is the Rebellious Bastion, and we've, uhm, rescued you from the wreckage of another vessel. I'm Clarissa, the nurse. Behind me is the ship's resident doctor, Francine, the dog is our pilot, Edgar, and that big mama bear over there behind you is Matilda... she does all of the cooking." The mouse hadn't intended to introduce everyone, but god, everyone was just so silent. "So who is my Master or Mistress?" asked Anicha. "Well... nobody. The captain wanted us to tell you that you're a free woman, a guest of the Bastion, and no one's slave," replied Clarissa. The news didn't have the reaction she had perhaps hoped for. The vixen just looked confused as she murmured, "But the captain is in charge here, yes? Then I guess he's the Master of this vessel." Everyone was content to let her believe such. After all, the captain was good at explaining these things.

Orientation proved to be rather exhausting, if only because anyone emerging from stasis would probably have a lot of questions, owing to the unorthododox arrangement they find themselves in. So it was decided to open the remaining stasis crates without further ado. Anicha stood and watched with her lush tail swishing as Edgar, Clarissa, and Peter each opened one. The doors swung open and inside of each laid a nude, female slave slowly coming around to consciousness.

In the crate closest to the one Anicha had emerged from was a female skunk who would eventually come to introduce herself as Phoebe. She had similar proportions and bodily shape to her vixen companion Anicha, whom she recognized immediately and went to hold her hand. While Peter was unusual and had a predominantly white coat with a black stripe, she was the classic coloration, with the long headfur around her ears a stark white. She took the news easier than the other four girls, and took an immediate liking to Peter, who remained friendly but distant.

In the next crate was a mouse who was younger and smaller than the others. She had a frail build and stood shorter than Clarissa, who happened to be the one who helped her to her feet. She introduced herself as Yvonne. She had small breasts, slightly boyish build, but a delightfully round and taut ass. Like the other girls she had little to no hair between her legs. Her coat was completely white, and what headfur she had was a pale platinum blonde, though it was cut short. She was definitely just a bit timid, avoiding eye contact while the other girls looked on proudly.

In the crate that Matilda and Edgar remarked was the heaviest, the crew found a black and white rabbit. The bunny had long lop ears, blonde headfur in stark contrast to her darker coloration, and a mostly black pelt, save for a white patch on her hindquarters and one taking over most of one breast and some of her shoulder. She was a little chubby, truth be told, with love handles and a soft, wide ass. When asked of her name, she answered, "Vanna," in a sultry voice. Matilda took an immediate liking to this rabbit, moreso than the others.

After all introductions concluded and their subsequent questions were answered, the newly freed slaves complied quickly to requests to follow the doctor and nurse to the sick bay. Clarissa shooed the other crew members away as they followed. "Give them their privacy, please!"

They all walked a bit differently. Anicha with a certain self-assured confidence in spite of her accepted status. Phoebe had this to a lesser degree. Yvonne looked unsure of this whole situation. Vanna seemed oddly unphased, and took her time following the pair to the sick bay. When the taking of temperatures was mentioned in each individual examination, all of the girls responded the same way, by placing their paws on the exam table and bending over slightly. Anicha looked disappointed, even offended, as the conical thermometer was inserted in her ear. Phoebe just giggled and felt a bit silly. Yvonne was relieved. Due to the shape of Vanna's ears, Clarissa had to get a different kind of thermometer and so, if only to avoid argument, the nurse lubed it up and stuck it right under Vanna's fluttering bunnytail. She stuck out her tongue at the other girls. All temperatures were in normal range. Heartrate and blood pressure were measured with neither confusion nor antics.

The prospect of a blood sample made Phoebe look nervous. She was asked to sit down and make a fist, and as soon as the needle went into a vein and blood surfaced, she felt woozy and almost fainted. After a vial was taken, Francine helped her to her feet. The skunkette wandered over to the doctor who had kept a distance from the proceedings, and stood on the other side of the exam table as she watched Clarissa do most of the work. "What's wrong, miss?" asked Phoebe to the doctor who shifted a bit where she stood, "You look like you're trying to hide something." This led to the nurse and doctor exchanging knowing looks. Clarissa spoke up as she swabbed Yvonne's arm with alcohol, "Dr. Fiore, you're being silly." After being chastised, the doctor shrugged her shoulders and stepped out in front of the table so Phoebe could spot the erection straining in her immaculate white scrub bottoms. The skunkette looked happy to see this tent, and as she wasn't being examined at the moment, she turned and pressed her body back against the doctor. "Y'got a bigger needle?" asked the mouse in the chair, blinking her pink eyes a few times, "I uh... like those, ma'am." Clarissa bit her lower lip and shook her head, "No, sorry. Just this gauge for drawing blood... and we're not going to need a sample of cerebro-spinal fluid." Phoebe swooned as she made a mistake of looking, and soon Francine had to support her. Anicha had a different strategy for dealing with blood being drawn: She looked away the whole time and was fine. Vanna didn't look too happy about the needle, but her sample was taken without complaint.

The nurse looked to the doctor, who had grown quite comfortable with that stiffy nestled between Phoebe's warm buttcheeks. "I don't know why you insist on keeping that a secret, doctor," said Clarissa as she went for a shelf to retrieve four sterile urine-sample containers, "Though I guess Edgar and Peter kept their relationship a secret... Still, the captain's an unrepetant lech, and big on libertyand tolerance, I don't think anyone would think less of you for being a different kind of woman." Phoebe was happily pillowing her head against the shemale vixen's large breasts. "I already adore you for it, Doctor." Indeed, the skunk was giddy with desire.

"Okay, girls, we're almost done. I'm gonna need a urine sample, and---" started the nurse as Anicha took one of the convenient cups, opened it and squatted right there in full view of all. Before anyone could say anything, the vixen was peeing into the cup, and looking relieved to do so! In her defense, the urgency might have had something to do with having not gone for months. It certainly made things easier, and Anicha definitely didn't mind anyone watching - which Francine did as the arctic fox kept her labia splayed with her fingers. She didn't spill a drop, and even managed to make it look graceful as she took a tissue offered by the nurse and dabbed herself dry. The container was capped and Anicha stood. "Can I go now?" she asked. Clarissa took the now-warm cup and said, "Not so fast!" as she bent down and reached into the cupboard. She tossed a patient's gown at Anicha and she obediently pulled it on. It didn't cover a whole lot, but it was at least clothing, which Clarissa assumed would make it easier for the crew to keep their hands and eyes to themselves.

She was out the sickbay door and into the commons. At that point, the crew had dispersed throughout the ship, Matilda was in the kitchen and was preparing lunch. It was simple fare but healthy. Miso soup, and onigiri filled with preserved fish. Without being prompted, Anicha took up the task of forming the rice balls, as though it were second nature to her. Matilda certainly appreciated the help, and spoke cheerfully to the vixen, "Well aren't you helpful! Anicha, was it? I'm the ship's mama bear, as you know. I share the quarters with Clarie, and you and the other girls will be sleeping with us." Every so often, Anicha dipped her paws in the bowl of water to keep the rice from sticking to them. She wore a playful smile as she replied, "You mean, 'sleeping' with you, miss mama bear?" This insighted laughter from both parties. "It's like Clarie said earlier, hun. The captain wants to make it clear that you're in control of your own destiny here, and make your own choices... but I wouldn't object if you wanted to warm my bed." The bear sow bent down and planted a kiss on the arctic vixen's forehead. It was around this time that Vanna and Yvonne filtered into the commons and almost immediately, started looking for chores to do. In very little time, all vegetables were chopped, tea was brewed, and the cookware was being cleaned even before lunch was served. "So where is the captain I've heard so much about?" asked Anicha to the bear. Not everyone answered the lunch call. Harriet came in from the engine room dirty as usual and only washed her hands after Matilda glared at her. She acknowledged the Bastion's new guests, but paid far more attention to her food and touchpad. "Oh... he's resting in his quarters, hun. Poor guy wore himself out and then probably didn't sleep too well. I know I wouldn't after getting in a fight like that."

Meanwhile in the sick bay, Phoebe and Francine were alone together. She had taken to rubbing at the bulge she found in the vixen's scrubs, and she responded by moaning, clearly turned on. For that matter, so was Phoebe. "I wouldn't want to leave you with a case of the blue balls, Doctor," cooed the skunkette, "Would you mind if I take care of you?" Though female in most respects, Francine did have a very male sex drive, and so she shook her head. "If you want to, I'd be happy to let you," said the fox. She was not one to turn down sexual favors. Phoebe dropped down and tugged at the drawstring of those loose slacks. A fat canid shaft stood pulsing before her muzzle, already leaking pre. She did not hesitate to pull the tapered glans into her mouth as she stroked it with a paw. Her eyes remained upcast to seek the doctor's approval.

Harriet barged in without really looking. She had a cut on the back of her paw and it was bleeding. She didn't even immediately acknowledge what was going on, even as this put Francine quite on edge. "Bandages... bandages... bandages... Hey, doc, where d'you keep the bandages?" asked the rattess as she glanced to the doctor. She realized that not only was there a skunk she hadn't met in the sick bay, but that she was kneeling, and currently challenging herself to fit Francine's dick, knot and all, in her muzzle. She gagged and pulled back and Harriet took in quite the lewd sight of a strand of pre-cum connecting Phoebe's lips to her dick. "Oh... over there. You're probably gonna want to clean that off first," grunted Francine as she tried to play off what Harriet was seeing, "I can help you in a minute. Oh, right, this is Phoebe. One of our guests." Harriet grabbed a roll of bandage, wrapped it around her paw a few times, made a fist, and tore off the unused part. This she threw on the counter. "Good enough. Nice dick," jeered the rat as she exited the way she came in. Harriet's words were distorted as they'd likely bounced off a few walls before reaching Phoebe and Francine's ears. Still, they could distinctly make out her yelling, "Is EVERYONE on this vessel getting laid but me!?" Phoebe giggled and exclaimed, "Uptight much?" before the vixen crammed her muzzle full of dick. She mmphed and got the message, and got right back to blowing the doctor, pumping a paw on what she couldn't fit in her maw without gagging, which felt a good deal better now that lots of saliva eased everything along. As Francine grunted again, Phoebe picked up easily on that cue and kept it up. The vixen parted her mouth open and threw her head back. Her hips jerked and her knot swelled in Phoebe's paw as hot, runny foxcum spurted into Phoebe's muzzle. She eagerly swallowed her first mouthful, and jerked any remainder out of the vixen into her mouth. She was meticulously careful not to spill a drop.

In the commons, Matilda had explained a lot about the events that transpired mere hours before to Anicha. Since the captain had slept through lunch, she set aside a portion of everything for him. Anicha had asked nicely if she could maybe bring the captain his lunch, and Matilda saw nothing wrong with that. Even if the vixen had interest in more than just introducing herself. In her patient's gown, carrying a tray of two fish onigiri, a bowl of miso soup, and a cup of green tea, Anicha followed the directions given. She opened the door to the captain's quarters and flipped on the lights. Cyrus stirred in bed and winced as he rolled over onto his back. "What is it?" asked the rat in sleepy protest. Anicha walked over to the bed with a pendulous sway, put down the tray on the nightstand, and looked to him. She leaned over and her breasts nearly spilled out of the gown. Immediately, Cyrus was up, and in more ways than one. His erection pitched a lewd tent in those sheets. "Hi there," said Cyrus. Anicha smiled playfully as she looked down at the sheets around where the rat's crotch would be, "Hi yourself, Captain. The crew told me all about how you rescued the girls and I from that ship." She grabbed the sheets and whipped them away to get a look at his package. It would not be an exaggeration to say he was hung. He also had some of the biggest balls Anicha had ever seen. She giggled and shimmied out of her gown. Now naked before the captain, she climbed into bed with him, and straddled his hips. This way she could get face to face with him. "I'm inclined to believe one favor is good for another, and that was a -big- favor, captain. I'm just here to thank you and bring you your lunch. It's gone cold and I'm sorry for that, but it took a lot of convincing to get Matilda to send me in here with it." She lowered herself, and split her labia a bit around him as he nestled lengthwise along her crotch. His hips buckled. "I see you brought me something hot at least. Name's Cyrus, but you can call me Captain if you want,' he said, but he was finding it hard to concentrate. She slid her hips back and shivered as she did. Her slit left a noticeable trail of wetness that made the underbelly of Cyrus' dick glisten in the light. "My name's Anicha, Captain. You can call me whatever you please. The way I see it, Captain, if I'm free on this ship, that also makes me free to do what I know best, hmm? I was just a little girl when my parents sold me to the Academy, and there I was taught to want others to have authority over me, to give myself over to their desires. So I hope you won't take offense by asking you, but how would you like to fuck me?" Anicha laid out her compelling argument as she lifted herself off of the rat's lap. She didn't stray far though, instead facing away from him as she dug her knees in her mattress and flagged her tail high. The captain was understandably entranced. He sat up, grabbed her by the hips, and was extremely content to bury his muzzle between her legs. Her asscheeks cushioned his cheekbones for a moment as he tasted Anicha in an intimate kiss to her nether regions. "I believe you and the others should have freedom, that's all. If it's the freedom to be a..." said Cyrus with a pause as he dragged another lick through her folds, "Sex goddess, so be it. I'll respect you for it, and definitely, definitely, fuck your brains out anytime." His neck lick dragged up between her buttocks and his tongue tickled her asshole. She wasn't expecting either of these gestures, and looked quite happy from the oral attention she received. She splayed her ears and moaned, "My wish is your command, Captain." His tongue fluttered playfully around her anus, poked and prodded at it, and he even sucked around the hole a bit when he enveloped it in a lewd sort of kiss. Then he went to the nightstand, opened a drawer, and produced a wrapped foil condom. Anicha took one look at it and slapped it out of his grasp playfully, "But I've always disliked those things. If it pleases you, Captain, I want nothing getting in the way." He was happy to oblige, settling the broad glans of his prick against her delectably plump and wet folds. She let out a yap and splayed her ears as he split her folds open around his dick. "Goddamn, that's tight," remarked Cyrus, while Anicha bit into her lower lip, her upper body slumped and her ears tipped back. "Please, Captain, take at least some of the credit. That's a big, wonderful dick, and it'll take some pressure to fit it in. Give it to me!" she pleaded. He wasn't gonna let her down. He forced his way into the snug embrace of her insides. She wore quite the happy expression as he settled into her. Her body offered just enough resistance to make him press on. He had to pause while balls deep in her. Her eyes widened too, as she felt the weight of those balls against her clit. She felt every vein on the following withdrawing stroke, and he plunged back into her with an audible clap of his hips to her buttcheeks. He reeled back again and gave it to her harder, and as each ramp up in intensity only drove the vixen more wild with need, it took barely time at all before the lewd and wet music made by flesh meeting flesh filled the captain's quarters. The beat of his hips, the slightly wet sounding clap of balls striking her clit and mons, and the more subtle sounds of inner friction.

She came before he did - it was just how she was trained. She let off an almost pained yip which died down into little moans. If he thought her insides were snug before, now they almost pushed him out, and then... tugged at him as if to draw him in. She gasped, as did he, as a hot spray of rat jism sprayed deep into her cunt to mingle freely with her abundant nectars. And abundant they were - her orgasm included a rush of fluid that Cyrus could feel dribbling down his balls onto the sheets. Her body hungrily drew and squeezed at him until he was spent - and she was overflowing with rodent spunk. With nothing to hold it in, it leaked out of her in ropey strands once he tugged out of her. She turned on all fours and enveloped him in her mouth, Suction cleared the pipes of any remaining semen, felt fucking great to him, and also helped to clean up a bit after what clung to his dick. Cyrus gritted his teeth and lifted his head to find the door wide open, and Harriet standing there with her eyes wide. She had quite the view from this angle, a vixen with a mouthful of softening rat cock, and a freshly-fucked box drooling out their mixed expenditures.

"I'll come back later!" she exclaimed, and disappeared out the way she came in.