FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

_Okay, people. This is the first in a series that's going to be ongoing as long as I can find inspiration to write... This is only my third story altogether, but I think it's pretty good. ENJOY!

-Geoffbunny_

The woman got off the phone, and stared at her computer, with a blank look of distrust and resentment. "I will NEVER understand these things." She walked around the California suburbian house, her tigress paws crossing across her chest as she leaned against the kitchen counter, her eyes wandering around. She looked out her window, and one paw moved from her chest down to her stomach, running up and down. In the background, some soft electronica music started playing, and the tigress tilted her head back, moving her other paw over her pert breasts, letting her fingers work over them under her shirt as much as possible, soft moans emitting from her throat. "Oh, honey, why do you have to leave me on a business trip all alone?" There was a wild, reverberating guitar lick as the paw on the stomach grazed down to the crotch of her tight jean shorts. Suddenly, the doorbell rang, and the tigress walked, shaking her ass back and forth seductively as she approached the front door of the house. She wrapped her fingers around the doorknob, and slowly pulled it open.

There stood a short, slightly overweight mouse. Thick Coke-bottle glasses crossed the top of his snout, his shoes were some dirty all-white Reebok sneakers. Decked in a maroon polo shirt and a pair of finely-pressed, crisp khakis, the mouse opened his mouth to speak, talking in his sexy, high-pitched, nasal, squeaky voice. "Mrs. Beluga?"

The tigress puffed out her chest at the mouse smiling sexily at the little thing. "Yes, that's my name..." Her fleshy mounds pressed against her tight pink midriff-revealing spaghetti-string tank top.

The mouse tossed the walkie talkie at his left side, and his Nextel on his right, slung his laptop off his shoulder and tossed it forward into the house, stepping into the home, closer to the tigress, wrapping a short, chubby arm around her waist and grabbing one of her tight buttcheeks, eliciting a loud, overdone purr from the feline. The squeaky voice of the engineer-type rodent peeped forth once again: "I'm here to analyze your system, baby."

Here, the electronica music started to blend into a cacophony of absolute noise, the tigress and the mouse melted away, and revealed three suited wolves sitting behind a long, brown wooden desk, each with pen in paw and survey in front of them. On the other side of the desk, a good six paces away, in an uncomfortable looking hardwood chair, sat a light-brown furred kangaroo, dressed in a cheesy suit and a bad tie, shifting and twiddling his paws quite uncomfortably as the three wolves pondered what they had just read.

The wolf in the middle held up the script to the kangaroo. "...I'm here to... analyze your system?" The kangaroo nodded slowly, cringing carefully, as that tone of voice is never a good sign. "Mister Craig... I am surprised they even let you in the door, anymore."

The wolf on the kangaroo's left held up his copy of the script. "This is absolute crap, Mister Craig. You couldn't have possibly expected this to sell, could you?"

Scooting forward, closer to the desk, in his chair, the wolf on the roo's right seemed to be looking over the story with deep dissatisfaction, donning his thin reading glasses as he shook his head again and again. "Mister Craig... I am steadily becoming convinced that, through your lack of talent in this aspect, you were beaten roughly in the head by a neanderthalic elephant wielding a huge wooden club. Then, you were thrown into a river to nearly drown, and just before you flowed right into the lumber mill, a big, burly lumberjack had his way with your unconscious form, then gave you to all his lumberjack friends, who screwed any semblance of rational thought from your moronic brain. Furthermore, I'm confused as to why you keep coming back again and again, knowing your idiotic plotlines are going to be turned down day after day after day... With each new sun, contemplating your scripts makes me feel like I should leave this business altogether, convert to Roman Catholicism, and become a missionary in Uganda, just to try and repent for the repeated sins you have committed with this... trash." He looked up from the script, finally, and at the kangaroo. "You suck, in other words."

The roo's bottom jaw quivered a bit at this, looking at the three wolves with pained eyes. "So... it's a negatory, eh?"

Silence.

"A no-go?"

More silence.

"...Right. I think I'll just... Go." He stood from his chair, and walked across the empty tile floor. As he approached the large glass door, he was stopped by the words of the wolf in the center of the table again.

"Mister Craig, I am convinced that in some way you will have to pay for all of this... All the time you've wasted, the good ideas you've ruined... It's people like you that make it hard for people like us to make money. You will pay, mister Craig... You will pay." Ouch... This one hurt, and, without turning to face the three, the roo ashamedly opened the glass door only enough for him to slide his slender form through, and then closed it behind him.

Well, it was a sucky day on the whole, and that just added to it. Silas Craig, an unemployed screenplay writer, had a long walk to the parking garage ahead of him. Jacaranda boughs danced in the breeze of the sunny California summer, mocking Silas in their... arboreal ways. The roo sneered up at them, but the trees didn't seem to care. Ha, ha. Silas the failure. Another day, another rejection. Oh, well, at least he had his beautiful wife of three years to come home to. Damn, Jillian was all he ever needed... A soft, kind roo female with a heart of gold...

"And a nice butt, too..." Silas spoke to himself as he approached his car, an '89 Ford Mustang convertible. Not the best year, admittedly, but in its day, even Vanilla Ice had one. That has to count for something, right? "Vanilla Ice's didn't have a blue door." He unlocked the car, snickered to himself, at his own misfortune, and climbed into the driver's seat, sticking the key into the ignition and turning it on. Sure, it took a few tries, but that baby purred like a champion when it started up. Silas rubbed the top of the steering wheel affectionately, and placed the Mustang in reverse, slowly backing out of his spot, and headed down the spiral that eventually brought him to the exit. He handed his ticket to the attendant, and watched forward, hitting a switch on his dash that moved the top of his car down to fold behind him.

"Zat vill be tventy dollars." The attendant, a grubby looking cheetah with a smell as bad as his accent, held out his hand, expecting payment.

"Twenty bucks? I was only here for forty minutes!"

"I ham wery wery sorry sir. Zere ees notheen I can do. Tventy dollars, sir."

Silas couldn't believe it. "You're ripping me off!"

"Do not make me haff to get hangry, sir."

"...Fine. Fine, have your twenty dollars." Silas dug into his pocket, and threw the bill at the attendant, who promptly raised the gate for him. As he pulled out of the garage, Silas stood up and turned around in his car, flipping the cheetah in the booth the big middle finger. "Get a green card!" The roo smirked to himself, making a promise to scream things at people who made him angry more often, as he turned around to find the side of his Mustang colliding at a high speed with another Ford automobile. The whole time he was flying through the air, Silas thought, "Ford F-350. Nice." Then he collided with the asphalt.

Then he woke up. "Wha? What the?" Silas sat up like a rocket, actually standing up in the middle of his bed to get clocked in the head by his ceiling fan. Falling back down to the bed and grasping at his head, he closed his eyes. "Honey! Jillian! Ah, that smarts... Get me some Tylenol, please! Oww..." Silas lay flat on the bed, sighing. He had the pitch for "Yiffy Engineering" today, and he didn't want to have a splitting headache while he had to face those three. He really felt this one was a winner. "What happened last night? I feel like a ten day old bag of shit. Honey! Get me some Tylenol, please! And some water!" The kangaroo sat up, to find himself dressed in his suit, and his favorite tie. "...Honey!"

Silas walked into the bathroom, still clutching his head, now with both paws. "Aagh... I feel like I got hit by a truck... HOLY SH..." He covered up his mouth as quickly as he could, staring wide-eyed at the wall, then down at himself. He immediately began patting himself down, making sure he was there, then looking himself over. Nothing was broken, bleeding, or even aching, except for his head. "Holy... moley. Holy moley. Holy cow." He slowly backed out of the bathroom, only to be stopped by some living, breathing form.

"Awww... are you sick?"

Silas jumped, and collapsed down to the tile floor of his bathroom... except it didn't feel tile. It felt soft, cushioned... He looked up to see Jillian holding a glass of water and a small brown capsule. "Did I hear someone needed medical attention?" In a nurse outfit?

/What happened? This isn't a tile floor, it's a cot... A hospital cot. Where am I?/ The room was illuminated by fluorescent ceiling lights through a translucent cover. It was a sizeable room, along with a strangely large cot... with two pillows. /This is a weird hospital.../ "Honey, I didn't know you were into role playing!" His eyes shot back up to Jillian, and weren't met with the sight of Jillian at all. There stood a female skunk, tall and thin, decked out in a full nurse's outfit, white coat over white shirt, skimpy white skirt, and that hat with the red cross on it.

"Now hush... you're a sickly man, and you need to take your medicine."

Silas opened his mouth to speak. He didn't want to, but he felt he had to, for some reason. "Or maybe you need an injection of your own." What was he saying? He didn't want to say that! He didn't mean to say that.

"Oh..." Immediately the nurse began to move her hands to her rather large breasts, squeezing them and massaging them through her uniform.

Again, against his better will and judgement, he spoke again. "You're so hot... you must have a fever." Stop it! Stop it! "Let me check your temperature."

The lights in the room dimmed, and there was complete darkness. The next thing the kangaroo knew, he was standing up and the nurse was on the bed. His paws were placed upon her chest, and he was shocked to find that they were both completely naked.

"Oh, doctor, I want my medication, give me my prescription!"

"Nurse, hold still, I'm going to give you your injection." Silas was, by some freak of nature or perception, fully erect and exposed from his sheath. His mind seemed to have no control over his body at all at this point, it was as if he was outside his body watching.

"Give it to me, doctor, give it to me!"

Silas took his erect member and positioned it at the skunk nurse's opening, pressing against it and immediately making his entrance, to the delighted squeals and moans of the female. "Doctor! Your needle feels so good!" The kangaroo pushed in further and further until he could push in no more, and began to pump in and out of the female rapidly, letting out low growls and grunts.

"Doctor! Doctor Silas, you feel so good!" Juices flowed from the skunkette's cunny, dribbling down off the hospital cot and onto the floor, splashing on Silas's feet, whose owner was moaning and grunting in low-key growls as he invaded the skunk nurse's innermost places, his cock glistening with the skunk's fluids, glimmering in the soft fluorescent lights overhead, his nostrils filling with the smell of pancakes.

"Silas! Oh, Doctor Silas... Silas! Oh, Doctor Silas! Silas... Silas... Silas... Silas..."

"Silas, it's time to get up, honey. You've been sleeping for near eleven hours."

"Hunh??!" The roo sat up, almost colliding with his wife's head. No matter, Jillian smiled and used this closeness to plant a soft kiss on the tip of his muzzle, which... however confused he was, he accepted, even returning one of his own. "I made you some breakfast, now get up before it gets cold."

"Honey, you're the greatest." Silas smooched his love on the muzzle again, before kicking his legs over the side of the bed. Jillian giggled, and walked out of their bedroom, giving her butt a little shake on her way out, which did not go unnoticed by her husband, who gave a playful "mrowl!" which did nothing but cause his wife to giggle more. Silas grinned at her as she left, then faced forward to the wall, with big, blank eyes... "What the hell was that?" He whispered, placing his elbows on his knees and burying his face in his hands.

TO BE CONTINUED!!!!!

(Author's Note: Okay, people! First in a series, tell me what you think... The whole series isn't quite planned out yet, so input will be appreciated and applied in my future writings!)