FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

Jeff found Hooves right where the hired help had directed him; in his bedroom, bent over the bed, and a tailhole leaking with at least a dozen males' deposited loads, or at least that was the number of used condoms scattered on the floor. The zebracorn, for the most part, looked in good health, giving the horse a friendly wave just as he poked his head in. With gift hidden behind his back, he strode up to give the birthday zebracorn a firm handshake.

"Glad you could make it!" Hooves beamed as the striped hand shook his own brown one.

"Wouldn't miss it for the world!" Jeff grinned before revealing the small package in his hand. "For you."

The Arabian watched as Hooves' eyes grew wide at the size of the demure package, before widening into a mixture of shock and delight. It was a selection of silk lingerie from some famous brand's catalogue, which Jeff obtained from a panty enthusiast, items that the horse felt would best be suited for the gelding. The packaging itself was discrete with only the brand's logo on the front, but that was enough to bring the spark back onto his face. It was a pricey gift, but no monetary value could replace the zebracorn's delight.

"Omigoshomigoshomigosh!" came the girly squeal. "I can't believe you got this for me! Thankyouthankyouthankyou!"

Jeff laughed, leaving the zebracorn to tear into his birthday gift as he returned back to the party.

The old mansion had been recently refurbished, probably funded by the zebracorn's amazing talent and charm for attracting the rich ones, but the warmth of the wood interiors was buzzing with activity. From where he stood on the second floor, he could see the guests mingling below, a mix of those who still had their bits and those who had lost theirs. It was hard to tell with all the variety of characters that were in attendance, but it was clear that Hooves was clearly the talk of the town. Or city. Or state. There were furs of various ages, genders, and species, but all united by one zebracorn.

The party was in full swing now, the large club speakers making the aged furniture vibrate with their overwhelming bass. Hips were gyrating, nearly naked bodies pressed up against each other in a synchrony. Every now and then, a few bodies would peel away from the main dancefloor, disappearing into one of the countless corridors in the mansion. Giving the nature of the party, it was more than likely that there were going to be quite a few gender reassignment paperwork to be done, but it was nothing out of the ordinary.

What was out of place, however, was the sudden and violent shove that caught him off guard. Jeff barely managed to stop himself from crashing into an expensive looking vase before managing to swing his gaze back at the perpetrator.

"Watch where you're going, old man," growled the wolf, snarling as the horse cast a steely gaze in return. "Next time you ain't going to be so lucky."

Jeff knew better than to engage in an argument with a mindless punk, so he watched as the wolf stormed off in the direction he had came from. Dusting his rented suit off, he made sure to remember the canine's baggy shorts and the street-cred worthy tank top, grey fur with a streak of white across his left cheek, and the slightly crooked tail so that he could at least inform security. He seemed oddly suspicious, and stuck out like a Mexican burrito at a French fine-dining restaurant.

As he made his way down the stairs, his suspicions turned more into a cold, hard reality. Sobbing at the foot of the staircase, amidst all the loud club tunes, was one of the hired help. It was a cute snow leopard dressed in a French maid's outfit, but the fact remained that he seemed in some form of distress. Jeff got down on a knee, gently resting a broad hand on his shoulder.

"You okay?"

The outfit was crumpled and ruffled, as if the snow leopard had been embroiled in some sort of scuffle. The otherwise immaculate fur was streaked with tears, and the angelic face seem so perfect as it shook from left to right.

"My ankle," came the pitiful cry, hand clutched around the aforementioned limb. "He pushed me."

The slightly raised platform shoes were partly to blame for the sprained ankle, but Jeff had no doubt that the hired help was more than accustomed to such footwear. However, it would have taken a substantial knock to have throw the feline off his bearings, one that the stallion was more than familiar with. His bulk had absorbed most of the blow, but the more slender, lithe form of the feline would have borne a huge brunt of the force, which explained the injury. It took a few minutes before the snow leopard calmed down enough to allow the horse to assist, but by that time, the sprained ankle was starting to visibly swell. Getting the feline to move was out of the question, and with the party in full swing, it was hard to get anyone's attention over the music.

Just as Jeff stood up to go get help, another feline in a smart, black suit arrived. The badge on his chest glistening in the club lights indicated that the tiger was part of the staff on duty, as did the stern gaze that was cast on the horse. The firm grip on his forearm stopped him in his tracks, and more cats in suits began to swarm around the injured snow leopard. However, a brief exchange later, the tiger released his grip and assumed a slightly more humbled posture.

"My apologies, Sir," said the tiger. "We needed to make sure."

"Don't worry," shrugged the horse. "Is he going to be okay?"

The snow leopard gave a small mew of pain as he was eased onto his remaining good foot, two cats in suits slowly assisting him probably to the nearest medical staff on duty.

"We'll make sure he's taken care of," came the tiger's confident answer. "KCC Security looks after its own."

"KCC Security? I need to report a wolf..."

"Grey wolf?" interrupted the tiger somewhat hastily. "Baggy shorts, sleeveless t-shirt? Did you see him?"

"Yeah," Jeff nodded. "I was about to report him. He went upstairs."

"Could you show me, Sir?"

The horse led the tiger back up the stairs, describing his encounter with the wolf to the best of his recollection. He led the tiger back towards the direction of Hooves' room, but it was hard to retrace the steps of someone who had at least a good five or ten minute head start on them. The furthest that Jeff could lead them was to the entrance of the zebracorn's bedroom. All the time, the tiger was relaying information via one of those cliche earpieces that security staff always wore. In the pulsing lights, it was hard to notice, but in the warm glow of the incandescent hallway lighting, it stuck out against the feline's striped fur.

Just as they neared Hooves' bedroom, the sound of a muffled shriek caught their attention. The door was ajar, which was not how the horse had left it when he left. The tiger snapped into a crouching position, gesturing to the horse to either stay low or stay back. The pair crept up to the door, pushing it open just enough to give them a glimpse of what was happening inside.

Sure enough, there was the wolf, but now with his pants down around an ankle. Hooves was bent over on the bed, his striped pelt clad only in a panty that Jeff recognised as one of the pairs that he had picked out for the zebracorn. The canine had one hand clamped down on the birthday boy's muzzle, the other brandishing a pocket knife that he had somehow slipped past security. The sharp blade caressed the zebracorn's long neck, a startled cry of help muffled by the furry hand.

The tiger instantly tensed, hand retrieving the weapon holstered to his hip. Jeff reached out and grabbed the feline by the shoulder, stopping him in his tracks much to the feline's annoyance. The horse had a better glance at the tranquiliser gun, before mouthing the word 'wait' to him. He gestured to the set of open doors inside the room that linked the two master bedrooms together. The canine had his back towards it, which meant an easier shot for the tiger. Executing their plan from the next room would give them the advantage of stealth, avoiding the need to alert Hooves' assailant by opening the doors more than necessary. With a practiced military gesture, the pair headed one more doorway down.

"Military?" questioned the tiger in a hushed voice.

"Ex-military," Jeff replied, hand resting on the adjoining room's door handle. He depressed it, waited for any sounds that would have gave away their position, before nodding and pushing the door open just wide enough for them to slip through. Mercifully, the hinges were well-maintained, and the door opened with nary a sound. They took cover by the side of the large bed, always keeping their target's back towards them.

By now, the wolf was clearly taking advantage of the zebracorn, hips clearly moving in a manner that would have not suggested otherwise. However, instead of the sound of a lubricated member pounding away at a well-used tailhole, there was only the muffled tortured cries of agony. Something seemed out of place, and Jeff knew that they had to act fast.

The horse pointed to the gun, mouthing the question "How fast?" to the tiger. Reaching for one of the spare cartridges in his holster, he handed the horse the ammunition of choice, complete with warning label and instructions. It was a devious concoction that Jeff could only dream about; a modified version of a paralytic snake venom designed to incapacitate a target rather than kill. According to the label, its effects would take seconds, and it would last for at least a couple of hours. The paralysing effects would wear off naturally, but the label did indicate that the user would suffer no loss of feeling or sensation.

Glancing over the bed, the horse was beginning to see and hear the canine's pace increase. What was of greater concern was the dark red fluid that was beginning to drip off the tightening scrotum, hinting to the pair that they now had to act quickly. With a nod of affirmation, the tiger took aim, and squeezed the trigger.

With only a hiss of compressed air to alert the wolf that anything was amiss, the tranquiliser dart sank firmly into the canine's left buttcheek. Even before the wolf could react, he was slumped over the sobbing zebracorn's body like deadweight. The pair waited for a few more seconds for the effects of the tranquiliser to fully take effect before springing from their hiding place to help the clearly injured Hooves.

As Jeff pulled the paralysed wolf off of the zebracorn, he could see the wolf's devious ways. As the blood-stained canine cock slid free, he could now see that he was actually wearing a condom. Upon closer inspection, the latex looked as though it were covered in a texture similar to what coarse sandpaper looked like, only with blood covered all over it. The horse winced as the reality of just what the zebracorn was going through began to sink in. However, it still did not explain just how the wolf managed to get the zebracorn to bleed. Hooves' powers would have ensured that the sacred body would not go unscarred, unless he himself wanted it.

Or, as Jeff made his second observation, there was something that was suppressing his abilities. There was a ring around Hooves' horn that was not there when he met the zebracorn earlier. It was the size of a wedding band, only this one had glowing red symbols pulsing in a steady rhythm. Whatever it was, it had to have been part of the wolf's plan for some form of twisted revenge. As soon as the tiger pulled it off, a sigh of relief left the zebracorn's muzzle.

"Hooves! Are you alright?"

The zebracorn winced as he set back upright, but the lack of bleeding suggested his abilities had been restored.

"I'll be fine," Hooves sighed, giving the wolf a sidelong glance. "Just never thought I'd see this piece of trash again."

"You know him?" Jeff enquired.

"Maximilian Lupus the Third." The zebracorn spat out the name like a bitter taste on his tongue. "Rich, spoiled brat that tried to be some sort of pushover back in high school."

"His ID says he's..." started the tiger.

"Fake," Hooves confirmed with a grimace. "He tried to get me to sell him a fake ID back then. Never thought he'd try to pull the same trick."

The wolf's eyes locked on the zebracorn's back in a death stare as he stood, grabbing a silk bathrobe to clad his naked body. Hooves bent down and picked up the pair of ruined bloodied panties, sighing as he stared longingly at it. Jeff felt a hand gently grab at his wrist, the zebracorn bunching up the fabric in the other as the horse was greeted with an apologetic look.

"Sorry," said Hooves. "And thanks. I wish I could make it up to you, but..."

"Don't worry," Jeff waved a hand in casual passing. "Go get cleaned up."

"What about him?" asked the tiger.

"Do with him as you please," came the zebracorn's sharp retort before he left the room. As if on cue, a half dozen or more felines in black suits swarmed into the room, picking up the paralysed canine and dragging him across the carpet floor.

"Where are you taking him?" Jeff turned and asked the tiger.

"Where else?" grinned the feline. "No old mansion would be complete without a dungeon."

"Dungeon?" Jeff's ears perked up visibly, much to the tiger's amusement.

"Yes, dungeon. Come on."

The tiger led the horse back towards the main hall, a different direction than where the other security staff had dragged the canine off into the bowels of the mansion. Still, it was a chance to get a breath of fresh air, perhaps to get himself a few refreshments before engaging into what had to be one of the more interesting moments of the evening. Jeff never did like the loud raucous of clubs, and with such an opportunity presenting itself to him, he would have been daft not to have grabbed the chance to do so.

Jeff tried his best to remember where exactly the tiger was leading him to, but in a mansion this size, it was pointless to even try. Even if he did find his way to the door the tiger now stood in front of, the biometric paw and retinal scanner would be hard to bypass. The heavy steel door would be equally hard to break down, not to mention it would have been equally hard to escape. This made it the thrill of the experience all the more worth looking forward to, and as they finished descending the aged stone staircase, the horse could barely deny his excitement.

The dungeon was exactly what the name suggested; stone everywhere, kerosene fuelled torches lighting their way, water dripping from the ceiling, and the excessive use of iron bars everywhere. There were a few cells that had been bricked up and had a steel-reinforced wooden door that looked as though it could withstand a horse's kick, but the sound of lashing whips and the constant cries of pain and pleasure reverberated throughout the entire space. Every so often, they would pass a dominant and his or her slave crawling on all fours behind. They would pass racks upon racks of every bondage gear and equipment on the market, and then contraptions that looked as though they belonged in the ancient times.

The tiger waved the horse into a small office-like room, and given the fact that the name on the door matched the name on the badge, it had to be his office. It was simple and functional, a stark contrast to some of the more elaborate rooms they had passed.

"Listen," said the tiger as he closed the door. "Given the fact that you've already come this far without being the slightest bit squeamish, I think I can safely say that you want in on this."

"Naturally," said Jeff.

"Oh, I don't doubt that," reaffirmed the tiger, sliding the first of many pieces of his suit off his body. "That bulge of yours tells me you've got it in you."

Jeff chuckled, a hand reaching down to adjust the growing tent in his pants. Everything he had seen so far had done little to quell his surging libido, if only serving to show his excitement even more visibly.

"Thing is, this place is pretty hush-hush." The tiger had stripped himself fully of his professional suit, although it surprised Jeff to see that the feline was actually wearing a leather harness underneath the whole time. His groin was laced up in a leather package, and the snug material hugged his rear as well. "What happens here stays here."

Jeff mutely nodded even as the tiger sauntered up to him and pulled his tie loose. Deft feline paws began to peel his suit apart, slowly letting each piece of his clothing fall to the floor until the horse was clad in nothing but the jockstrap he had selected for the evening. It was not for any special occasion, merely liking the way of how it supported all the necessary equine assets.

"Nice," casually remarked the feline with a smirk, snagging a finger into the jockstrap's waistband and pulling the horse towards the other door in the room. It opened into an adjoining room that was devoid of any other openings, save for the one they just entered from, and only had a single light bulb dangling from the ceiling. An interrogation room, Jeff noted, and one where their prime suspect was already ready and waiting for them.

The wolf had been strung up to the ceiling with a set of arm binders, leaving him dangling his feet barely touching the ground. Not that his feet would touch the floor given how the cuffs around his ankles were attached to chains that stretched his legs apart. His head was limp, tongue hanging loosely from the agape jaw, drooling dripping off those jowls as a result of the paralytic tranquiliser.

The canine's member was not the largest Jeff had seen, but it was still of an admirable size, which had to have been large enough to injure the well-used zebracorn. It was still erect, it's sheer mass pulling on its sheath and angling it away from the muscular form, but typically canine, complete with swollen knot. It was as though his erection had been frozen from the moment he had been tranquilised, but whether or not it was a residual effect of the modified venom remained to be seen.

The tiger began with a brief inspection, casually brushing his paws over the canine cock with what looked to be practiced strokes. The feline had done this before, and was very good at what he did. Soon, he had a steady trickle of canine pre-ejaculate drooling from the frozen erection.

"Normally, canine's are pretty messy spurters," explained the cat as he paraded around the prisoner like as if it were a slab of meat. "However, that drug we shot him with basically paralyses all his muscles, including those that would usually make a big ol' mess."

A single upward stroke to the canine's cock generated no reaction at all, even as the tiger gently squeezed and massaged the swollen knot. There was no throbbing cock, no rattling of chains, no begging or moans of pleasure; merely the constant drooling from both mouth and member, and the rapid fluttering of eyes from the canine's downcast head. Even as the tiger's hands began to masturbate and stimulate the canine well into a predictable orgasm, nothing happened.

"And I mean, all the messes," grinned the tiger as he finally let go, slapping the loose scrotum with an audible smack.

Jeff gripped his own growing package as he strolled right up the canine, the other hand gently teasing the canine cock right at the very tapered tip. Nothing. No response. As his now slick finger began to rub faster and faster in circles, not even those loose hanging testicles twitched or ascended as a sign of an impending orgasm. The canine could most certainly feel every sensation, but his body was frozen and stuck in a frustrating no-man's-land. The grin on the horse's muzzle was growing, as was his own erection down below.

The tiger rolled over a trolley from beyond the darkness, the sound of steel against steel rattling unnervingly. On it was an assortment of devices Jeff could not quite identify, but sitting right in the middle of the large surgical tray was the very condom the canine had used on Hooves as well as the magical band that suppressed the zebracorn's abilities.

"Well, Maxi-boy... Can I call you Maxi-boy?" The tiger pushed the trolley until it was within view of the canine's field of vision. "We have quite a few questions for you, especially seeing how you managed to come into possession of a rather contraband magical item. I know you're at a loss for words right now, but we'll need the answers sooner or later."

The tiger picked up the dastardly condom the wolf had been using earlier, marvelling as he gently turned it in his paws, even if the rough surface tugged and snagged at his fur. Hooves' dried blood was still there, and even the scent of the zebracorn lingered long after the violent copulation had ended.

"Impressive ingenuity here," said the tiger, bringing the condom into the light. "Pulverised glass, I assume?"

There was no response from the wolf, but that was to be expected, at least for the next few hours.

"Sounds like you've learned a lot from your fellow inmates during your incarceration," the tiger casually remarked, loosely shaking a paw until the devious condom freed itself from his fur. He fingered the silver ring on the tray, clearly making his intentions known of where the topic of the conversation was about to turn to. "And you've made quite a few connections."

The tiger carried the tray aside before returning, this time with a new tray of implements. The sight of gleaming scalpels and sharpened blades presented to the erect canine appendage was enough to bring about a rapid set of huffs from the suspended wolf, but he was in no obvious state to protest. The kidney shaped surgical tray was large enough to hold the canine member, and the tiger's grin was assurance enough that by the end of the day, there would be one sitting in it.

"However," the tiger sighed wistfully, with the slightest hint of deliberation, "we know you types don't like ratting on each other. So, we're just going to skip the 'ask you nicely' part, and just get straight down to the convincing bit."

Jeff could barely suppress the grin on his muzzle, nor the throbbing pole that jutted straight out from the waistband of his jockstrap. It earned a smirk of appreciation from the tiger, who gestured to the tray, encouraging the stallion to start the proceedings. There were plenty of tools to choose from, but one in particular stood out to the horse. It looked like a tapered green stem of a thorny plant, completed with a little ball of foil at one end for the user's convenience. In the dim light, one could barely make out the hairy texture along the entire length of the freshly cut plant.

"Urtica dioca, or more commonly known as the stinging nettle," the tiger pointed out. "Excellent choice!"

Jeff brought the carved tip of the nettle stem up the canine cock, gently tracing the trimmed, needleless edge along the entrance of the wolf's sticky, dripping urethra. The rapid exhaled huffs from the canine's jaw as well the rapidly darting eyes did nothing to stop the horse as he gently pushed the thinnest part of the stem against the flow of pre-cum. With the interior of the canine cock already so well lubricated, the slender parts of the stem disappeared with relative ease. The horse, in essence, gently fucked the wolf's cock with the stem, allowing it to adjust to the growing thickness as well as allowing those vicious needles to dig into the sides of the sensitive urethral passage.

The warm rushes of air across his muzzle grew in intensity as he suddenly pushed more than half of the stem in, the only reaction that the horse observed as he forced more of the stinging plant further in. The canine cock never twitched, nor did any of the bound limbs even kick out or lash out at him. It was the perfect scenario, even as the embedded stem suddenly resisted its passage forwards. There was still an inch or two left, but any further prodding revealed that that was as far as he could go. Still, the horse could not resist gently pinching that tapered canine cock, massaging more of the stinging venom around the now visibly reddened urethral opening.

The tiger approached the canine's front, this time holding a small bowl and a paintbrush. The striped paws gently stirred the thick white paste at the bottom, making sure to get a liberal amount of it onto the bristled surface. As Jeff took a step back, the tiger began to smear a thick coat of it onto the canine erection and knot. It looked as though the feline was making a crude plaster mould of the wolf's cock, and from how quickly the paste was setting, it seemed that way. In a matter of minutes, all that protruded from the belly of the canine was a white plaster cast that enveloped the meaty member, all the way down to the bulbous knot.

"We need to make sure that the suspect's cock was involved in the crime," the tiger plainly stated, before setting his tools away. "Now, while we let that set..."

Jeff eased the jockstrap off his hips, finding more of an encumbrance to what he really wanted to do; sit down, stroke his erection to orgasm, and watch the wolf continue to suffer. The tiger merely grinned as the horse settled onto a nearby stool, a hand gently stroking the mast of the flared erection. He was, after all, a guest of this fine establishment, and it seemed only right to step aside to let the proprietors do what they did best.

The tiger worked quickly and efficiently; first, administering a pair of wicked looking alligator clamps to the canine nipples. He let them snap shut, and it came as no surprise when drops of warm blood began to drip from the cold metal biting into the right nipple. Next, he raised the wolf's tail, but frowned when he saw the state of hygiene around the canine rump. He made quick work of the stained, matted fur with a shaver, then proceeded to administer one of the countless number of enemas using one of the most elaborate machines that Jeff had ever seen. It look like a one of those commercial vacuum cleaners, only with a whole host of large flexible pipes that ran out of the back of it. As the tiger turned it on, the semi-transparent pipes whizzed with a whole host of different coloured liquids; one a dirty brown, one with no change in colour, and a few with bubbles and suds pulsing through them. The only way Jeff knew the machine was working was the steady expansion and contraction of the canine's belly.

A glint of light across steel caught the horse's eye, the tiger now wielding a scalpel and lightly tapping the plastered canine cock. He sliced slowly and carefully, splitting the plaster cast right down the middle. It popped out a few seconds later, only to reveal a very visibly inflamed canine cock. Jeff leaned forward to take a closer look, amazed at how irritated the once beautiful erection was.

"Allergic reaction?" he questioned.

The tiger laughed, shaking his head as he set the near-perfect cast down.

"Doubt it. Although it could have been the bottle of itching powder I 'accidentally' spilled into the mix..."

The small wink spoke volumes of the feline deviousness, which Jeff had to admit was rather intimidating and arousing at the same time. His own erection ached for the canine's tortured member, although more out of arousal than pity. As he stroked himself closer to the peak of his pleasure, he watched the tiger continue to torture the wolf's cock. It began with gentle teasing, soothing the itching flesh with nothing more than a feather, then proceeded on to light slapping. Things began to take a harsher turn as it progressed on to whips and floggers on the wolf's sore genitals and rump, to more intense moments when the tiger forced a sounding rod wrapped in sandpaper, causing the once pristine pre-ejaculate to be streaked with red.

From cubes of ice to flames of fire, and even the lashings of a cane to the crushing feline grip, the canine's member was thoroughly bruised and battered. The low-hanging testes had not escaped the tiger's attention, having being shaved of all its fur, then treated like a punching bag, and now dragged further down by heavy metal weights. As the minutes ticked by, not even Jeff could refrain from wincing as the once fist-sized meaty testicals slowly doubled their original size. Even the canine's tailhole was not spared, a vibrating oversized feline dildo, complete with silicon barbs, ripped at the delicate flesh, tearing the sphincter to spill fresh blood.

Eventually, when the tiger had exhausted his strength, and when the canine's vocal cords were slowly being freed from the paralytic grip of the tranquiliser venom, it was time for the pièce de résistance. Jeff had worked his equine shaft at a frenzied pace, waiting for the moment when the tiger, who was now wielding the classic pair of stainless steel garden shears, would lop off the canine's genitals in one fell swoop. The blades were slowly closing in for the kill, slithers of fur fluttering to the ground as the tiger readied to bring them together.

Then, the phone rang.

The blaring ringtone of the mobile device dampened the atmosphere as much as an ice cold bucket of water had been dropped into his lap, but the call was clearly important enough that the tiger dropped what he was doing and answered it. Jeff idly stroked his erection, sticky and frothy from his furious masturbation, waiting for the feline to end his call and to continue with the show.

"Change of plans," declared the tiger, tucking the shears away, much to the horse's disappointment. "Hooves' orders."

A new tray of vials with weird coloured liquids and medieval looking rings was retrieved, and presented to the barely struggling canine. The striped paws worked at picking out a few vials, setting them aside for later use. The tiger began to assemble what loosely looked like a chastity cage, and if his memory served him right, the horse identified it as a Gates of Hell device. It seemed barely big enough to fit the swollen canine cock, but perhaps there was more punishment in store for him.

Weirdly, the chastity cage seemed to accommodate the tortured member just fine, the steel seemingly flexing and stretching around the torn flesh. Even the knot went unspared, having the luxury of its own separate metal cage that encircled, squeezed, and trapped the swollen flesh. The tiger fiddled with it, linking the two pieces into a singular device, then let it the wolf's cock hang with the new jewelry.

"So, what's going to happen?" Jeff enquired.

"A friend of our host has taken an interest in our trespasser," the tiger answered, picking up a fresh scalpel. "And he has requested some... modifications."

The scalpel split along the underside of the wolf's scrotum like a hot knife through butter, slicing a hole large enough for the two testes to fall through, hanging like over ripened fruit from a tree. The tiger picked up a couple of vials, mixing liquids together until they formed a crystal blue liquid that glistened in the light. Oblivious to the wolf's grunts ands huffs, the liquid was transferred into a syringe, which the tiger deftly injected straight into the core of both testicles. He gave each a rough massage, and stuffed it back into the split pouch.

The reaction from the wolf was almost immediately, the caged erection instantly surging to life and burping pre-ejaculate like as though a biological pipe had burst. Before stitching up, he made doubly sure that both of the canine's sperm ducts had been tied off into an impossible knot, trapping the contents of the testes within and making sure he would never have a chance at undoing what had been done. The tiger merely grinned, slapping the freshly stitched up scrotum.

"Alchemy," was the feline's only explanation to the horse's puzzled expression. "Just like this..."

A sprinkle of clear liquid over the caged cock and the metal began to sizzle and steam visibly. Jeff took a step back, but watched in fascination as the whole device began to vibrate, much like a cellular phone vibrating on a hard surface. The shaking grew more and more intense, as did the intermittent surges of pre-cum spitting from the agape piss slit, until it finally shook itself free from the wolf's sheath and fell, knot and all, straight into the waiting tiger's paws. The grin on the tiger's muzzle was one of satisfaction, the horse's open jaw in quiet surprise, and the hyperventilating pants from the wolf was a clear indication of pure shock and horror.

Jeff cautiously took the newly detached male genitals from the tiger, marvelling at just how warm and alive it felt in his hands. In fact, as he observed more closely, he noticed how the whole organ continued to contract and relax, as if trying to squeeze out more fluid. A glance at the now pre-cum flooded canine sheath provided confirmation that, somehow, body and cock were still connected, even though it clearly was not. The flesh continued to strain at the too-small cage, pulsing in agony as imprisoned cock futilely attempted to escape.

"It's... It's..." Jeff stammered

"Magic," concluded the tiger, his toothy smile matching the horse's. "But we still do need to take care of it."

The horse handed the canine's genitals back to the tiger, who gently stroked it as though it were some weird pet of his. They walked over to a corner of the room, where glass jars stood ready and waiting.

"What do you mean?"

"It's still flesh," explained the tiger. "If we put in a flame, it will burn. If we put it in a freezer, it will freeze. Drop it in acid? It'll dissolve. Quite simply, we'll treat it as though it were still connected to the body."

In one oversized jar sat an unusual looking plant, which the tiger promptly unscrewed the lid, and waited. Like out of some alien movie, the large oversized petals peeled open, revealing a fleshy interior much like a woman's vulva. However, deep down in the core of the plant were many tiny little tentacles wriggling like little immobile worms. The tiger dangled the wolf's caged genitals over the plant, placed it right in the middle, then watched as the tentacles began to tease and assault the entrapped flesh with feathery light flicks. The feline knew how the teasing torture would feel like having stuck a finger in there before. As more tentacles emerged from the interior surface of the open petals, the petals themselves closed, leaving the tiger to shut the jar once more.

Jeff watched as a professional sticker with the 'KCC Security' logo was neatly pasted on the outside. The tiger filled up the details, before sticking another sticker that wrapped around the entire jar that now read, "Property of Konu". The jar was then placed in a secure plexiglass box, and then sealed in with a combination lock.

The effects of the tranquiliser venom was already wearing off when they turned their attention back to the bound wolf, who was now trembling in his bonds. The now empty sheath was soaked, much like a female who had been overstimulated to pure saturated wetness. His shaved scrotum was pulled tight to his body, but the swollen testicles within were undoubtedly churning with trapped seed. The tiger gently stuck a finger into the wolf's sheath, fingering what nub of flesh remained within before pulling his finger back out and straight into his muzzle.

"Delicious," judged the tiger.

The final piece of jewelry was a metal collar, again engraved with the name "KONU" in big, clear font that now hung around the wolf's neck. Not that he had paid any attention, given the pitiful whines of desperation that stemmed from an absent set of genitals being overstimulated to death by some odd entity. Jeff could hardly deny it was weird, but it was also very much a fantasy fulfilled.

So it came as a disappointment when he was ushered back into the tiger's office, still buck naked and very much erect, where he sat with said tiger, briefly recollecting their experience over the past few hours. After the horse was properly decent, they were about to part ways back in the main hall when the tiger pressed a name card into his palm, mouthing the words 'Call me'. Jeff turned it over, saw it had a number, and the tiger's name.

Charn. Co-founder, Kitty Cutter Club Security. Keeping assets safe and very secure.