FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

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Hello all. Here is my next story arc. I left this one wide open for myself 'cause I thought the last one was kinda closed off and restrictive, so, now that I'm back, I'll try and write an interesting adventure for you.

And I should also note that this is my first real experiement with characters of this type (yay for diversity!). And so, please leave some constructive criticism for me to improve them.

Thanks!

P.S. The series won't be called "Companion of 1000 Scars." I just ahve to create the series block first.

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Companion of 1000 Scars

A desert hover is built out of wood. Two hollowed, lightweight skis are fixed on the bottom of either side of a square raft. It differed with each contraption, but some had railings along the top for cargo or passengers. It was powered by a winding spring. Fully turned it could go for about 3 kilometres before needing another winding. The spring would turn a rear-facing propeller just fast enough to travel on the desert sands at 40 kph. Because of the low weight of the machine, it could not travel in winds exceeding 30 kph. One hover could support the weight of 500 kilograms while maintaining speed, and for each additional 50 kg the speed would drop 10 kph in succession.

Still, it was the fastest mode of transportation on this continent.

Repeating her driving instructions was the only way to keep entertained on a flight such as this. Even counting the seams on her small canopy could only occupy her mind for so long. And to think, her journey had only begun 30 minutes ago. How long would she last travelling as far as she wanted to?

Sara, a panthress, of course black, was travelling to find herself. To do that, she had set out from her hometown of Galvest in hopes of travelling the world over, and seeing everything she possibly could. Danger meant nothing to her, but boredom did. Her bow staff would defend against danger, but it wasn't exactly a neurological stimulant. Unless she counted the number of wrappings of string she had tied around where she placed her hands. But even that only entertained her for a minute.

Then it was back to the seams in the canopy.

As a panthress, she had a long black tail, lush with short, silky hair, ruffled and a mite dirty with the constant dust devils. As a general rule, she tried to keep her fur clean, but in this place it was next to impossible. No wonder she hated the desert. Inside her ears was thin, pink flesh, drawing attention there first. Spotted next was always her yellow eyes. They caused a glare that often frightened small children, much to her displeasure, as she had always enjoyed their company.

"Oh..." she groaned, "It's so hot..."

Of course, complaining could always entertain even the most bored.

She was clothed in an ultra light, beige cloak that came over her head like a hood and tied around her neck like a cape. As for clothing actually attached to her body... a simple wrapping around her chest, much like a bra, made with a heavier fabric, and a loincloth. She also wore a silk pair of panties. But no man had ever escaped the reach of her staff after a peek, so it wasn't a real concern for her. Hell, if men weren't such perverts, she would have gone everywhere stark naked. But then what would they say? Really?

She was stretched out on her desert hover with her limbs sprawled wherever they had landed when she fell backwards. Panting lightly and staring up at the hover's light coloured canopy she sighed.

"Maybe I shouldn't have gone."

"Nonsense!" came a voice from behind her. A light voice... on no.

She opened a box with her stores of food hurriedly and found, nothing. Then turned round and looked around at her surroundings. Nothing. She was alone. Suddenly the hover came to a stop and she was flung off the raft and into the sand headfirst. When she had picked herself up and dusted herself off angrily she yelled out: "I'm going nuts!" The next few sentences were masked by unhealthy curse words and general grumbling from a boredom plagued mind. She continued her mumbling until she had wound the spring back up again.

Now she was hot, bored, tired, hungry and dirty. What else could go wrong?

It was four hours later that she finally decided to look at the map, finding out that she had gone in the opposite direction of her destination. It took all of her will power to not tear the map into a trillion tiny pieces. She would have counted too.

Another quick look revealed that she hadn't gone in completely the wrong direction; she had merely curved southward instead of northward. A glance at the compass and a direction change due north set her right again, and she felt her blood pressure lowering significantly.

The sun just didn't let up.

Night couldn't come soon enough, and when it did, Sara found herself thanking heaven! She stopped her hover in the middle of a small isolated area. It was a little oasis just big enough for her to park without breaking anything. She set up a fire in the middle, beside the pond and cooked a small portion of the meat she had brought along. It wouldn't last long in this heat. Not outside of a deep cave anyway. When she had had her fill she downed a few silk coverings that flopped from the canopy. She tied the bottoms down and brought out a blanket. She loved being this prepared. And after a day like today, she could use the extra relaxation.

But still... there was a feeling that needed filling. The area between her legs was in need of some attention, but she was nowhere near her toy. She had had to leave that at home. It was that or her canteen. For necessity's sake, she brought the canteen, but now found herself questioning that tactic. She hadn't drunk that much today anyway. A bad idea on her part. The best toys she had at the moment were her fingers.

She would make do!

Inside her tent was as private as it was going to get. And aside from a lizard, two desert rabbits and a fish, which was gone now anyway, there was no other creature in the oasis at that time. She slipped off her robe, revealing to the night the voluptuous panthress she was.

As the hood came off, her black ears, adorned with gold loop earrings popped free, then her face, slight, with complexion fitting one of royalty and handsome features. Her cheekbones were raised and very symmetrical, her nose a nub at the end of her short muzzle and her eyes, just as everyone said, were piercing yellow. The lizard scurried away.

When the coat slid off her shoulders it revealed her medium breasts, covered only by a strip of cloth that tied in clips at the back. It was a perfect cover for the desert. Light, cool, and it covered everything she didn't want seen.

Then it came to her waist, and ended at her knees. As she was kneeling, it wouldn't slip any farther, so she rolled on her back and pulled the rest off. On her feet she wore very simple sandals, just a rubbery substance, flattened and hooked with lace to hold it on her foot. She slipped those off too. Whew, her feet stank. The desert will do that, she supposed.

But that was the least of her concerns right now. The urge to play with herself was growing. She could feel the tingling sensation rise from her groin and spread all over her legs and into her stomach. Her removed her bra, laying it neatly at the side of the tent, allowing her pert breasts find the open air and cool off. Without the sun's heat, the place became cool, and her nipples reacted very quickly indeed, standing at attention in seconds.

She giggled at this and rubbed her palms over them before travelling down her curvaceous body and hooking the straps holding her loincloth up. She pulled that off, at the same time taking her panties down and then tossed those garments away at once.

She sighed, her freedom complete, the ritual finished. On to business!

She laid on her back arching slightly when her hands travelled freely over her sleekness. They rubbed and fondled her breasts for a moment, pinching the nipples then smoothing the fur between them. Sand fell out of the tuft of hair so she swept it away, and then they travelled downward, tickling over her chest and stomach with slow, agonizing motions.

Then at last, they reached their goal. The wet lips of her vulva lay glistening, and she touched them gently, and spread them with careful fingers. Slowly, she slid a single digit into herself, not far, just enough to feel it. It tickled, and she giggled, squeezing the finger inside her so that it rubbed against the walls of her sex. She gasped in midst of her giggles and only managed to bring on a fit of more. When her sides hurt she had to pull free and settle down. She was mewing softly and probed herself again, this time with more intentions. She pushed two fingers inside this time, and spread them apart. Moaning, she wiggled the digits around slowly, and mimicked the motions she had practiced with her toy.

Orgasm never came slowly for her, and in moments she found herself gasping in orgasmic bliss. She knew exactly how to please herself, that's why. That, and she had always loved playing like this. Plenty of practice makes one very good at bringing oneself to orgasm.

Her fingers were sticky with her juices and she licked them clean. Being sweet never hurt either, she thought as she finished up. She then wiped up the mess she had made with a dirty cloth and slipped out of her tent. She took her clothes and the dirty rag with her and edged into the water. It was cold, so the process was slow going. She washed the rag down in the crystal liquid and then dunked, coming up with a gasp. Drips that feel from her pointed ears glimmered and then splashed and melted into the larger body. Her luscious curves seemed accentuated by the moon's light. She sat on the bank of the pond and brought water in cupped hands and spread it over herself. She could feel the dirt wash away and the sand come out of her fur and sighed in contentment.

She finished quickly and then stepped out. She looked around, took a deep breath of the cool night air and slipped back into her tent. She was quick to fall asleep that night and smiled until daybreak.

Today was no better than the last. In every direction: sand; upwards: blue, and down: toy less. She sighed. It was another scorching day, and she decided to keep the two side flaps down for any extra shade they might provide from the sun. When she did see a cloud, it was fleeting and she took great delight in its transformations. First it was no more than a wisp, then it turned fluffy and then it disappeared. If she hadn't finished counting the seams on every piece of fabric she owned, perhaps the cloud wouldn't have been so entertaining, but anything was better than staring at nothing.

At about noon, when her hover ran out of tension and came to a complete stop, she knelt down to wind it up and caught in the distance what looked to be a town. She quickly looked at her map. It was the town of Lesharad. It was only one turn's distance from where she was. She could eat and sleep in a comfortable inn and stock up on more water, which she had been unwise enough to finish that morning. With a hurried pace and new excitement about her journey, and feeling the reason why she was travelling at all come back to her, she wound up the spring and set the hover into its fastest gear.

She rolled up the sides of her canopy and then sailed into town slowly, to avoid hitting anyone in the process. The first thing to jump out at her was that this town was human. There wasn't another one like her anywhere to be seen. She felt that she knew why when she received angry or sometimes vicious glares from passers-by. If she could remember her history correctly, Lesharad was the city that had been last in the Coalition to abandon slavery, and only furres were slaves here, so when there was no more slavery, they were all chased away. It would be best to leave here as soon as possible.

She pulled up to a building labelled with a family name and so locked her hover down, collected her money and her weapon (just in case) and crept inside. There was yelling and screaming and what sounded also like wailing. Not just any wailing... pain! She grasped at her weapon and entered.

A stubby and rather angry man greeted her at the entrance with rudeness.

"What do you want?" he snapped.

She was at first taken aback by his forwardness and so stuttered. "I-I'm here for a r-room, sir."

"We don't want your kind here. You'll have to pay double if you want service."

She sighed, suspecting that it would be the same anywhere, and so conceded and handed over what the man asked. She was led gruffly to a small room in the middle of the house and shunned inside. When she gave thanks, the door was slammed in her face.

She had never felt so ill received in her life. He was so rude, and so... It made her angry just thinking about it. She was sure to keep her things with her at all times. Luckily she was in a room with a window overlooking her hover, so she could keep an eye on it at all times. Screaming came from below again, and the same chilling wails of pain and torture as well.

It didn't subside for a good few hours and when it did, Sara slipped to the floor and crawled around as quietly as she possibly could, looking for cracks and crevices for somewhere to see to the floor below.

There was one, on the far left of the room, and from what she could tell, directly above where the wailing had been coming from. Now all the noises from below had turned into whimpers and sobs, pained sobs, and seemed to carry much farther than the screams had.

There was a creature below, strapped and chained to a chair, blindfolded with white cloth. Its arms were strung up and outwards, exposing its chest, burned raw by repeated lashes it looked like. It was bleeding from several places on its body, and shook when a chain even tinkled, as if the noise brought pain to its frail body. Sara took pity on the poor creature and was immediately looking for some place to get into the room. She peered around from above and could just barely make out the gleam of moonlight from a window on... her side of the house. Perfect. There didn't seem to be anyone else in the room with the creature, so she got to her feet and edged towards the window. She took a pin from her clothes and made sure that she held on to it between her fingers as she pried the window open. It was an old window, and creaked as it slid upwards. But it yielded to her strength and she managed to crawl out.

From there it was a matter of shimmying down the walls on a grated fencelike structure. She recognized it as a wall that ivy would normally be grown on. She clambered down and finally reached the window into the room below hers. There was the creature, human, she now realized, and still shivering in acute pain. It must have been terrible for... him! His sex didn't make a difference to her; she was just surprised that a male would submit to such a thing. Not that a woman would either, but she always suspected men stronger than that. But from the way he was chained up, it looked like he had fought the good fight at least. She could see honour in him even from here, in his noble frame and even his stern complaisance, which seemed to be failing him. Based on the wails she had heard that day, he was being put through terrible anguish. It only fuelled her desire to set him free.

She shifted over to the window and peered inside, leering over the edge of the frame and taking a good look. There was someone else in there. A man, the same one that had given Sara her room. He was sleeping hunched over with his arms crossed, and looked as though it would take a thunderstorm in his brain to set him awake again. Perfect.

She slipped her fingers over the window and pushed up. This window was significantly easier than hers had been, and it was quieter too. The man shuffled and she ducked away, but it was quickly righted and she continued her slow motions. When it was wide enough for her to make it inside, she climbed in and slunk towards the chained boy, who was so quiet, it might put the dead to shame.

She crouched behind him and stood slowly to whisper in his ear.

"Boy, are you awake?"

The boy was roused, and his chains clanked from movement and he would have screamed had his throat not hurt so badly.

"Shh," she pleaded with him, "I will get you out of here. Hold still and don't make a sound."

The boy nodded and silenced completely. Still, she could sense fear in him beyond comprehension. He must have been tortured to unimaginable extents to be like this. This level of torture made her blood boil and her head seethe. She at once wanted to tear the sleeping man's spine out through his rear end and put him through the same torture that this boy had gone through.

By taking a closer look she noticed bloody patches on almost every part of his body. Even down below, near his groin. And some on his arms and legs, and even some on his face were far deeper than to be just cuts. These looked as though they were placed there for a purpose, as though they would be opened and reopened every day until he had no flesh left. It was disgusting to behold and she felt herself wanting to vomit. The boy stank of blood and sweat and feces. She looked down and noticed the extent of bowel movements on the floor creating a rank and foul stench. He really wasn't allowed away from here she thought. This was sick.

She took the pin from her fingers and began her work on his shackles. The first one around his leg came free and she moved it carefully away from his so as not to make any noise. The same for the other leg. Then she worked on his arms and when the first came free his arm fell, as did the rest of him. Had it not been for Sara being in front of him, he would have toppled over and without a doubt roused the man in the corner from sleep. She clicked the last of the shackles open and hoisted the boy to his feet, which were weak and nearly useless now with the thick, long gashes all over them. She had to carry him and opened the door to the main part of the building slowly, peeking out for a moment to make sure the coast was clear.

When she was sure that it was she stepped out and walked cautiously to the front door, where she could slip around the building and put the boy down on her hover.

It was many minutes until that happened however, because she was being so extra careful not to be caught. Anyone who took the trouble to bring this amount of pain to one human being obviously didn't want him to escape, so any alert to his missing would be a disaster for her.

When she got to her hover she laid the boy carefully down and wrapped him in her blanket, which she suspected she would have to wash extensively after this. Then she climbed back up to her room and collected her things. There was a well behind the inn and she filled her canteen, as well as any spare pouch she had with water and then wound her hover up and took off as fast as she dared through these winding, narrow streets. Just as she left as well, lights in the inn came on, and yelling could be heard for miles. She would have to be quick to make her getaway.

The next morning she was on the outskirts of Lesharad and continuing farther east. The next city was a good 3 days by hover. She had decided that with her "kidnapping" the boy, she would have to speed the journey and try for half the normal time by continuing even at night.

The boy needed extensive care. She kept the flaps of the canopy down to avoid sand infecting the boy's wounds and kept them continually clean by wiping them down with water. She used her rag as a medium for wiping him down and did so very carefully, as whenever she touched him, he winced in pain, and for the longest time, she said her apologies after every touch. She felt so sorry for this boy. He would need a doctor as soon as possible if he were to remain unaffected. There was only so much that her limited first aid skills could do for him. Without medical care, it was only a matter of time before he was infected by the harsh desert and died. She wanted to avoid that at all costs. She at one point sat him up as far as his stiff muscles and pained flesh would allow and gave him sips from her canteen, which he managed to weakly thank her for. She smiled at him tenderly, as a mother might look at her child, and continued her small ministrations.

At no point did her fur come into contact with his skin. As far as he knew, his female rescuer was as much human as he.

She managed to get to the next town early on the second day and sped through the wider streets to get to any medical office she could find. It took some asking around, but at long last she found one.

It was in a run down part of town, boards of wood were nailed across windows and the door of the building seemed about to fall to splinters. If he weren't in such a dire need of a doctor she would have found some place else. She helped him up, locked her hover to the wall at the side of the building, in what looked like a seldom-used alleyway, and then hobbled inside. A woman who didn't even look at the boy greeted her in a somewhat more pleasant manner. She was at first, and for the longest time, attracted to Sara's eyes, which normally would have scared most people away. But not this human. When the woman got to close for comfort Sara spoke up by clearing her throat.

"Ahem!"

"Oh, goodness, I apologize miss." Then she smiled and walked away, leaving Sara to hold the boy up on her shoulders.

That ticked Sara right off and instead of being patient she yelled out: "Hey! Is there a doctor in the house?"

A shuffling of feet and a clash of falling... something, and a man in a white coat and glasses walked into the room.

"Someone called?" he asked obliviously.

"Yeah! Over here ya quack! Come on! Today'd be nice!"

The doctor seemed not to notice her, but quickly zoomed in on the boy over Sara's shoulders. Instantly he called out: "Nurse! Fetch water, bandages and plenty of disinfectant! As much as you can find! We've got a real one this time!"

With that the boy was hoisted from Sara's shoulders and stretched out on a rolling bed that another nurse had wheeled out. He was then taken into the back room where the doctor proceeded, albeit loudly, with his ministrations.

It was hours before anyone came back out to tell Sara what had happened. But when they did, it was the doctor to do so.

"You are the woman who brought in the boy earlier correct?"

"Yes! How is he? Is he alright?" she panicked.

"Sit. You'll need the support," then the doctor began listing off what had happened and what they had discovered through his repairs. "We were able to disinfect and close up nearly all of the cuts. That's the good news." Then he paused and Sara was forced to ask about the bad, "The bad news... you didn't know about his blindfold did you?" She shook her head, no, "He's 75% blind. One eye is completely blind and the other is half so. We also found that he has lost almost 50% of his sense of touch. His left leg, and the right half of his upper body are without feeling. He was beaten and cut so badly that most of those nerve endings are gone and frayed. He also has no sense of smell any longer. Someone must have overloaded his smell receptors. And his sense of taste... 70% gone. Hearing is fine. It was the one thing he kept intact. He'll also have to walk with a cane for the rest of his life. His left leg, the one without feeling, was shattered in so many places that... we can repair it, but it will never have the same strength again. If he stands on it without the cane, he will fall. I don't think there is a cure we can give him for that. Are you his caregiver?"

"No. I'm his kidnapper," she replied.

The doctor looked confused for a moment and then stepped back, "You mean he's the... boy from Lesharad?"

"Yes. This is what happened to him there. I took him away from being a prisoner." She then related the entire story to the doctor, every gruesome detail in the boy's rescue.

"He owes his life to you. He should get plenty of rest, food and water, as much shelter as you can give for the next two weeks. If you have nowhere else to go, please stay here. I will be more than happy to shelter you from the soldiers on the lookout for you."

"You, aren't going to turn me in?"

"If what you say is true, about his torture, then I will not submit him back to that fate, nor will I give his rescuer into the hands that did so much harm."

"But I'm..."

"A furre? You'll find no qualms about race here young lady. But unless you can guarantee that he'll be safe with you on the road, I can't let him leave here."

"I can't guarantee it."

"Then you should stay here until he is well again. Until then, you may stay on the third floor. No one ever goes there. You should be safe as long as you don't hang a sign out the window announcing your whereabouts."

"Thank you doctor."

With that she crept outside to retrieve her things from the hover, parking it in a sheltered hut at the back of the building. Then she came in through the back door and was led upstairs by the doctor himself, who continued to reassure her of the safety he would provide. The boy would join her upstairs as soon as they had stabilized his condition. He was still highly damaged, and shouldn't be moved as of yet. The doctor gave Sara many thanks in getting the boy here as soon as she did. Otherwise there may have been a far worse outcome. Such as the boy's life, on the line. Sara shuddered and thanked the doctor once again.

Then she walked into what was to be her room for at least another two weeks while the boy got well again. The doctor also assured her that the news of the boy's kidnapping probably stopped at this town. The next was far off; at least a 10-day journey, and news would very likely not cross the desert like that. In fact, there was no reason to suspect as of yet if the kidnapper had crossed the desert into this town, which she was told was Falnas. It was very likely still that the only real place she would be in danger was in Lesharad, as Falnas had poor relations with them anyway, and would probably not take seriously their request to find and capture the kidnapper anyway.

Besides, the wanted poster was for a human, not for a furre. And the picture of the kidnapped was that of a 15 year old, and very healthy looking boy. Who would have suspected this one, now scarred and ripped to shreds?

She had trouble getting to sleep that night. Try as she might, the thoughts of such horrible pain inflicted upon the boy downstairs kept clouding her mind. At last, in the middle of the night, she wandered to his bedroom and laid her head down on his bed. Finally she was granted rest, and when the doctor came in to check on him he only smiled at the "cuteness" of the scene.

Sara's mother-like protection over the boy set the doctor at ease, and he too went off to bed.