FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

[Note: Now, before you read this and expect a whole lot of S & M scenes, etc, or anything very yiffy, I want you to understand that this is a REAL story that may or may not be getting published. Yes, I am in the process of working it out. *The yiff comes later and there will be alot of it.* At any rate, this will include, S & M, torture, gay, bi, threesomes, etc. Please tell me what you think. ;) Who know's if you're nice, you might get written into the story.]

***

Pain, pleasure...

When you're numb...

It's good to feel anything.

-Aiden Feehr

The sun beat down upon the neck of the farmer, his fur shining with sweat. A small breeze kicked up a swirl of dust. He watched it as it dissipated. For ten years he and his family had kept this small farm going. The cruel dessert surrounding the oasis was host to many a danger. For their youngest son, this was all he knew. The rest of the family all had the same traits, the high forehead, the ears of a lynx, and a long bushy tail. Aiden shared these as well. Though he was different. Where their eyes were the deep gold of wheat, his were the glowing pink of a spring flower, where their hair was black, his own was a royal blue. It puzzled them how one could turn out such a way. Never had they seen such colors. One his age should have stood nearly his fathers height; Aiden was a full head shorter. He was the weakest, though what he lacked in strength, he made up for with intelligence, cunning, and a speed that never ceased to amaze his father.

The years passed and Aiden grew older and taller, though his own body never growing much in the way of muscle. He spent his days behind the plow, or when that was not possible, working in the basement, cleaning out the well. He grew stronger, though only a fraction of what his brothers and sisters possessed. There were days when his siblings felt malicious, cheated as it were, because of the attention he received. Through all this, he never spoke. In fact, his family was quite sure that he never had had the ability to do so. He could speak, though he never understood the reason for it. It seemed pointless to him that to communicate with another, one would have to make such noise. He often got headaches when around too much conversation, though this passed with time.

Time, as it always has, did pass, and soon, Aiden was a young man of thirteen years. He stood a few inches taller than any of his family and was faster than all of them. His thirst for knowledge never quenched, he stopped every trader with books and exchanged water for the leather bound treasures. Water was as good as gold to someone in the desert.

The years passed slowly at first, and then suddenly, Aiden was seventeen. Having survived two of his siblings in his harsh world, he became reclusive. An introspective shade, forever haunted by what he saw.

One night, the gathering bell rang out in the clear night. Aiden ignored it at first until it became a persistent clammer. He sighed softly and reached his hands to the starry sky, stretching for a long moment before moving quickly to the source. Standing there, his remaining family surrounding him, was an escort of some sort. Aiden immediately felt wary of the situation. He tightened a leather strap on his shirt and continued forward to kneel at the feet of his father. Nodding he was listening, he waited. His father eyed him, distress in his eyes. With a sigh, his father bowed his head and placed a hand on his son's head.

"Aiden. This is a matter I have thought long about. We no longer have enough food to feed your younger siblings and your mother's health is fading. You have to leave with these people. I don't know if you'll be back."

Almost in tears, his father walked quickly to the house, pausing for a moment at the door.

"Please... Take him now..." He said, before entering the house and closing the door forcefully behind him.

Aiden winced at the sound. It was like a nail being driven through his heart, then--Nothing. There was no feeling. A coldness rose up in him, one that kept him from fleeing once the slavers began putting the manacles on his wrists and ankles. Not once did he even test his bonds.

The ride was long and slow and took many days. More slaves joined the caravan, all headed toward the great city of Mathuul. Once such day, Aiden slept, his back pressed uncomfortably into the side of the pen. His dreams were violent and vivid. He awoke suddenly, his eyes narrowed at the slave across from him; the slave's paw reaching out toward his face. Without a moment's loss, he snapped at the hand, warning the slave away. The other looked saddened by the events and curled up, his large eyes staring at Aiden. With a parting glare, Aiden closed his eyes once more and fell back to sleep, images of a previous life flashing past. The caravan stopped for an hour to let a sand storm pass before moving slowly onward.

Night, and Aiden was now fully awake. He watched the slavers talking amongst themselves near the head of the caravan and felt his paws clench tight, his claws digging painfully into his hand. Blood dripped onto the rough wood paneled flooring of the wagon. They will die... He thought coldly. A painful and slow death... He knew that one of the slavers would walk down the row to check the wagons soon, and when he did, he wouldn't leave. He had spent the past two days sharpening his claws with a piece of rock that he had found during a rest break. He would finally get to test them. The guards would notice the body but by then, his own wagon would be much further up the line. All there was to do now was wait.

His eyes slid open as he heard the soft padding of the slaver. Warrick was his name; Aiden remembered another slaver calling to him one night. He sat up and waited for the slaver to come nearer. The other slaves in the wagon watched him quietly as he beckoned to the slaver wordlessly. Intrigued, the slaver approached, his blade drawn. Aiden noticed the knife, but ignored it.

"What'cher want slave?" Warrick asked, smiling wickedly as he poked the blade between the cage bars. Aiden smiled slightly and beckoned him closer. Warrick, never having been too intelligent, obliged, thinking that he might get the quiet one to speak if he put enough pain to him.

"Well?" He asked again. "What do you wa--" His words were cut short as Aiden's newly sharpened claws ripped his throat out. Blood fell to the sandy ground, quickly followed by Warrick himself. Aiden glanced at the bars of the cage, noting that there was no blood on the wagon itself. With a satisfied smile, he sat back and began to lick his paws clean, the coppery taste of the blood filling his mouth. The other slaves were now wide-awake but silent as they watched Aiden with sudden shock. One moved slightly closer and looked past him at the body that now was a good forty or fifty foot from their own wagon. He grinned and winked at Aiden before moving back to his spot on the floor and going to sleep. Aiden finished washing his paws and went to sleep.

He was awakened minutes later by the alarm sounding in the night. Yells were coming from behind them. He smiled again and went back to sleep. Soon, all the slaves were pulled from the wagons and their hands checked for blood but no offenders were found. The search didn't last long and because Warrick wasn't the most popular of slavers among the slavers themselves, they dismissed the 'accident' as just that. The slaves were informed that they would be arriving in Mathuul that night. The caravan picked up speed, jostling the wagons too and fro, but none of the motion bothered Aiden as he slept peacefully for the first time in several nights, a small smile played about his lips.

***

The doors of Mathuul swung open, massive and majestic. Cut from ironwood and carved by the artisans of the highest caliber, the doors themselves were a monument to themselves. Aiden looked from the bars of the cage, watching as the crowds gathered to see the slaves before the Nobles had a chance. Many yelled out teasing remarks and some even threw vegetables, though this was commonplace and appreciated by the slaves for they had not been fed that day. An apple flew between the bars of the cage and hit Aiden in the chest. He stared at it for a moment before tossing it behind him absently. A small fight broke out behind him over the object. He turned toward them and they stopped, splitting the apple evenly before moving to opposite sides of the cage. Fear in their eyes. More food flew in and again; he ignored it, preferring to watch the crowds before him.

Never before had he seen such a variety of creatures or color. Canine, avian, equestrian, even reptilians of odd variety wandered the streets. He noticed that none looked as he did with more than a bit of sadness behind the thought. What am I then? Some sort of freak? Or perhaps a mutation of some sort? He sighed and closed his eyes, pushing the thoughts out of his mind. From behind him, he heard a conversation and lay down to listen to it.

"What's going to happen to us Mirell?" A fox asked the bat beside him. "What will they do when we stop?"

Mirell considered the question for a moment. "From previous experience, I'd guess they would put us up for show in the center of the city before selling us. A parade of sorts, if you will. You know what a parade is, right? No? Never mind then. After that, the nobles and the richer of the city will buy us and we will be theirs. From there, it's all speculation. Of course, one would want two of the many types of Masters or Mistresses. A nice one, that buys you and lets you free, or one that will make you fight in the arena." He stopped and pulled the blanket more over his face.

"Why the arena one?"

"Because a slave dies quickly in the arena and it's better that than to have a cruel owner. Remember that Sitan." Mirell went silent after that and refused to answer any more questions.

Sitan too went silent, contemplating what he had been told. Aiden wondered briefly about what his own fate would be, before brushing the thoughts away. He would find out soon enough.

***

As the dusk grew into the night, the slave caravan was stopped and the slaves unloaded. The slaves were ushered into the grooming center and slave office to be washed and registered. Aiden was pulled through a gate that read 'exotics' in large strangely shaped script. He wondered what was so 'exotic' about him. They moved further away from the growing crowd of slaves at the other gates. Behind him, Mirell was following, a slaver in tow with a whip. Where are we going now? Aside from the baths and such... Aiden wondered for the thousandth time. His own slaver pulled him into a room and pointed at the large tub of water in the center of the room.

"Get in the tub. The groom will be here in a moment. My, you're going to go fast on the block. That, and bring in a good bit of gold." He said with a greedy gleam in his eyes as Aiden removed what little clothing he still had and submerged himself in the water. The cool water soothing his aching muscles.

"Ah, here he is. Don't speak to him," the slaver laughed. "Or you'll be punished. Do as you're told and you'll do fine."

With those parting words, the slaver left and seconds later, a large equine came in, dressed in a tight vest and a loincloth that barely covered his nether regions.

"Evening! My name's Salvia. Sal for short though. Well now, don't we have a treat today? You're the strangest one I've seen for a good week now. Do you have a name young one?" He asked, sitting down beside the tub and pulling out soap and a brush from the box fixed on the ledge of the tub. Aiden nodded and closed his eyes as Sal began to wash his fur.

"Well? Are you going to tell me?" Sal asked, his voice playful. Aiden considered for a moment and nodded after a long pause.

"You don't speak much do you?" He said, as he washed lower on Aiden's back. "Stand up please."

With a shake of his head, Aiden stood up, letting Sal wash his legs.

"My... name is... Aiden Feehr..." He said, his voice nearly a whisper. Sal smiled and laughed while he continued washing Aiden's fur.

"Nice to meet you Aiden. Well, I can tell you haven't talked much, but that's okay. I tend to talk a lot so I'll talk for both of us?" Aiden nodded to this.

"Oh my! Aren't you the lucky one?" Sal asked as he turned Aiden around and saw his sex. "Rather well hung how are we? You should be a horse!"

He joked as he washed it and continued on up. "Sit back down."

Aiden allowed himself a weak smile as he sat down.

Sal talked to Aiden as he washed and groomed him, telling him about the city and how he himself had found himself in the slaver's chains.

"It took twelve of them to catch me." He said proudly. "Though, now that I think about it, I didn't have much going for me at home."

He pulled Aiden from the tub and set him on a bench while he grabbed a large towel from a hook. Aiden glanced at the door and considered how far he would get before he got caught. Seeming to read his mind, Sal walked back over and began drying him.

"You wouldn't get far. Eventually, they would find you. And in the end, it's worse for you than just staying. See the scars?" He asked, turning slightly so Aiden could see the deep scars there. Aiden nodded.

Sal finished drying him off and pulled out a bottle of scented oil. He quickly poured some on his hands and began massaging it into Aiden's fur. Aiden shivered as Sal neared his nether regions.

"A bit sensitive down there are we?" He asked, running a hand over it again. Aiden shivered and felt a stirring in his loins. "You have to be 'ready' when the nobles see you. It's considered bad manners to not be at 'attention'. Let's wake you up."

Sal began to massage Aiden's sex gently. Aiden wasn't sure why his body was acting like this, but he enjoyed the feeling. Seeing Aiden was fully erect now, Sal poured more oil into palm and rubbed in onto Aiden's member, before oiling the rest of him.

"It's a shame you can't stay here and have fun, but you'll be back when your master or mistress needs you cared for. I'll sign on as your personal groomer. Would you like that?"

Aiden nodded and smiled.

"Good! Now, let's get you out to the block. Remember, keep your head down and don't speak, though I hardly think that that will be a problem. Oh, and always refer to your new owner as 'Master' or 'Mistress'. That's about it. You'll learn the rest in time. Let's go."

He fastened a black leather collar around Aiden's neck and led him out of the building and toward the town center. The streets were uncommonly empty, which was because of the slave auction that was going on explain Sal.

Aiden had been registered before leaving the building and now had a small tattoo on one of the pads of his left paw. It stung no more than a scorpion sting. He glanced at it now as Sal lead him into a holding pen with other slaves, each one in the 'exotic' category. Mirell was sitting in the corner, another slave's member in his mouth. Aiden shrugged and sat down as well, the cold feeling returning. Now... The wait... But I can wait... There are worse things than the waiting... Ah... Gray... There is no crowd, just the gray of nothingness... Aiden remembered long ago as he looked into a pool of water near his home, his reflection pure across the water. He had been crying that day. Words suddenly came into his mind and he whispered to the night sky.

"I didn't mean to hurt you, but you're pretty when you cry..."

Aiden's name was called and he was led to the block to be sold, his future in the hands of the bidder with the most gold...