FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

The market was a loud hazy place, bombarding her with the strong smells of incense and spices, the bleating of animals and the sharp voices of people hawking their wares. She passed by a basket full to brim with apples that gleamed like rubies in her hungry, sunken eyes, but the rope that bound her wrists together was given a sharp yank, and she stumbled forward, fearing the whip.

People were turning to look at her as her captor led her through the thin cobbled streets, staring without shame at the near-naked girl who hurried along fearfully. Briefly, she made eye contact with a brutish looking wolf who gave her a grin that did not seem kind, and she quickly trained her grey-blue eyes on the ground, watching her feet. She could hear the rising cacophony that was the roar of the slave block, and her heart quickened. Who would it be this time? She had been bought and sold, escaped and caught, passed between rich owner to rich owner. Some weren't too bad- the kind who wanted only a maid, or a laborer. Others wanted... other things.

It seemed that time slowed as she was dragged up onto a slab of stone, up on display high above the shoppers below. Her arms now raised above her head and tethered to the post behind her. The man who had delivered her here took the time to grope her ass roughly before shouting out to the crowd- "This girl here can be quite difficult-" he cracked his whip several times, causing her to flinch. "But a few lashes and she'll put those pretty little toes back in line." He cast her a cruel glance. "Nineteen years old, healthy, and still not too worn out." He didn't directly mention that she wasn't a virgin, which considerably cut down the price he could put on her. The man continued to speak to the crowd, gesticulating, making her turn her head this way and that, cracking the whip as he ordered her to stand up straight, and "show off those perky little tits, why don't you, slave?"

In her mind she went somewhere else, her pale eyes glazed over as she stared off toward the distant trees. Maybe if she could slip away from whoever bought her this time, she could make it to the woods, and then... then what? She'd starve to death. Or worse, be caught and brought back for whatever punishment they had. So the little dog girl just stood there, her legs weary after walking all day, her pink pawpads stained with blood. Her hair, dark, wild and curly, obscured most of her face as it fell to her shoulders. Her fur was short, the silvery-blue color of a purebred blue nosed pitbull, save for the white markings on her face and belly. She wore only a threadbare loincloth, and stood with her legs clenched together lest a breeze come and reveal what was underneath.

In her daze she momentarily forgot her predicament and traveled somewhere far-off. Imaginings of someplace quiet and green, a bed of grass, somewhere so far no one could ever-

"Slave!" the shout was punctuated by a blow to the back of her head, and she bared her teeth at her aggressor. She knew soon she would be with a new so-called 'master,' so what did it matter what she did to this man now? Ignoring the possible consequences she snapped out at him, but her teeth barely grazed his arm, and she came away with only fur in her mouth, which she spat at his feet. For the first time in days, she spoke, and her voice was surprisingly strong. "Keep your filthy hands to yourself, pig." she snarled. He raised his arm again, eyes narrowing with anger at her disrespect, and the girl flinched and cowered, preparing herself for the inevitable blow... but it never came. She opened her eyes to see that the dealer's arm was held by another, one which her pale eyes tentatively traced back to its owner.

"Have I not already paid for this slave?"

The speaker was a fox, typical red coloring that seemed to blind her in the sunlight as she looked up at him. He was tall and thin, though she could tell even through the fine clothes he wore that he wasn't without muscle. Another giveaway was the ease with which he held the dealer's brawny arm back. The two men stared each other down, but the slavedealer broke eye contact first, knowing he couldn't win here if he wanted to keep his gold. "Of course, sir." he said with gritted teeth, and the fox released his arm. When the vulpine's gaze turned to her, the dog's heart quickened and she lowered her eyes, sinking to her knees. As much as she wanted to run right now, to scream and snarl and rip the bindings from her wrists- she didn't have an ounce of energy to do that. A reminder that she hadn't eaten in three days, her stomach seemed to mock her as it twisted painfully in her gut. The dealer handed the rope that bound her wrists to the fox, and he took it, watching as the man walked away. The girl lowered her eyes to the ground again.

She was never sure how to please a new owner. She assumed that hiding her eyes and bowing to him would be acceptable, but he spoke in a voice that was somehow quiet and still terrifying, carrying a weight with it. "Look at me."

She raised her head fearfully to look up at him. His face, finely formed with fur that shone with a brightness that suggested he got plenty to eat. He observed her for a moment, pushing her tangled hair from her face, lifting her chin. "Up, now, off your knees. The sun is going down and our ride is not a very short one."

She didn't take the time to appreciate that he hadn't done as most do, pinching her breasts, making her turn a full circle before them, even reaching between her legs to see just what they're paying for. She was too busy thinking of her next move as they left the market and walked toward the stables. He had said a long ride, which meant he lived outside the city- past the walls of the hold and probably in the woods. Those types of places were usually easier to escape from. Her mind spun with fantasies- maybe she could kill him and take his horse.. if she timed it right she might be able to get a good grip on his throat with her teeth, and then-

"Put this on." Her thoughts interrupted as the fox slid a knife between her wrists, the ropes falling away. She looked up at him and then at the folds of fabric he held out to her. She took it, the dress slipping between her fingers, soft, so unlike the clothes she had worn all her life. It was a shade of blue, a dress that was simple but somehow still spoke of expense. She realized she had been just standing there for a while, holding the clothing in her hands, and she looked up at him. The look in his amber eyes was hard to read. Amused? She didn't take the time to think, pulling the dress over her head, feeling the comfort of the fabric falling around her. He betrayed nothing with his expression, checking the girth on his horse's saddle, stopping to pull a carrot from his pocket for the horse.

Catching her stare, he let out a short, barking laugh and handed her a carrot as well. "Something for the road, although its hardly a meal. I know it's been a while."

She just stared at him, holding the precious vegetable. She wondered, did he plan to feed her? Likely he was just teasing. Maybe he would make her serve him a meal, standing there with a tray like a statue as he ate and then leave her with the usual slop fed to slaves. It wouldn't be the first time. She stiffened as he grabbed her waist without warning, but he only lifted her up and set her comfortably on the horse, before getting on behind her.

"Please remember that things will be worse for you if you try to run." he spoke calmly as the horse began to trot down the path, as if he had read her mind. "I'll only catch you, and we'll make it home that much later." She didn't answer, knowing he was right. But she was so tired.. She couldn't run right now if her life depended on it. And the silky feel of the dress enveloped her, the rhythmic movement of the horse a soft rocking. She tried to keep her eyes open even as they burned, halfheartedly trying to identify a landmark. But it was no use- her eyelids drooped, and finally closed against the dying light of the sun. She was half aware in her hazy sleeping state of the warmth of him, his body shifting as he held the reigns with one hand and with his other arm held her to keep her from falling from the horse. Her hand loosened on the carrot and it fell, but he said nothing, just clicked his tongue at his horse, moving to a rhythmic canter. At some point in this half-dream state everything went black, and she slept for the first time in days.