FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

Nothing remarkable ever happened here in this small, two bedroom apartment. It was a dull life lived by Chris. He moved here about four years ago, expecting to live with his sister. For the first two years, they did indeed share the place but then she married her boyfriend and moved out. Chris opted to remain there, shrugging off the cost of rent. He had a job that could pay for it and then some. With the whole apartment to himself, he took over his sister's old bedroom and used it as a guest room. His parents hardly ever stayed with him, instead sleeping at his sister's house. He worked for a nearby graphics company, designing new images, manipulating photos, creating clipart, and various other computer related tasks. He rarely had to go in to get his work done; only attending meetings pertaining to clients and tasks. He had earned enough money to furnish the place and acquire a few new computers to replace the ones he owned that were failing. It was comfortable but not lavish. There were no needs that went untended to for the most part. Yes, life for this human was not terribly exciting.

Over the time he had spent on his own, he had ended up developing a love for plush toys. In fact, he had a fairly large collection gathered in his sister's old bedroom. He spent a lot of his time online, chatting up a storm, role-playing with a number of friends he had made, and searching for newer, rare plushies he could buy. He was quite the character online. The real world held little if any fascination for him and that worried his family, thinking all he did was let himself get sucked into the computer. The truth was he had been pushed there by all the hatred and lack of compassion he had seen in his life, receiving all he knew of love from his parents, sisters and other members of his family. There were instances where he felt as though he had connected with others, on a level beyond just friendship. Sure there were those who thought of him as family, brother, son, father; the usual strangely alluring relationships that developed from long-standing friends. But even amidst these, there were others who felt more. Unfortunately, they didn't last, either due to being little more than a fantasy or simply not working as he had hoped and it pushed him deeper into his computer generated dream world. A world where he was appreciated, liked...even loved. It was his society, a place he could be himself in and not worry about what people thought. If someone preached to him about what he should do with his life or what he should believe, he could simply block them. It was as close to paradise as he could get as far as he was concerned.

Today proved to be especially boring; nothing new, just the same humdrum activities. The light from his laptop danced across the walls, casting vague shadows that waltzed about the room. He sighed quietly and continued his search for new and rare plushies, longing to fill the pathetic void in his life with at least something warm. As Google scanned away, Chris tapped furiously at his keyboard, making some long, detailed description of how his character was inserting something into someone, or having someone inserted into his character's body in some fashion. He kept a log of his exploits, at least the ones he thought were worthy of remembering. Many of these logs were long running scenes, scenes that took up countless files on his hard drive. It was only a fascination the human had, fetishes to say the least.

The constant clicking of the keys filled the room with its soft noise. Chris shifted between the various windows swiftly as he surfed around until he made his way back to Google, scanning over the search results. It was the same old hits on the same old plush-maker sites. He was about to just close the window until something caught his eye. One of the links read, "Plushy seeking good home." Ordinarily, that wouldn't interest him enough to click on it, but tonight he was just bored enough to spend the time reading the page it led to. It was mostly text, well formatted and laid out quite nicely. Whoever designed this page put an awful lot of care into it. The paragraphs detailed something that sounded like an actual adoption, a gimmick many plush-makers used to sell one more stuffed animal than their competitors.

It wasn't a kiddy style form of adoption like Chris had seen at the neighborhood 'Build-a-Bear' where anyone could 'make' their own plush. The idea seemed sound at first but when he saw how limited their selection was, he lost fascination with the idea. They had no dragons or reptiles of any kind, a small variety of bears, only one kind of cat, and then there was the process of stuffing it, talking to the lady while she filled it up. The things she wanted to talk about made him uncomfortable. Then there was the issue of dressing, naming, and paying for the item. They had a wide selection of outfits but most of them were far too "Barbi"-ish for his taste. After the first visit, he didn't go back. This site however was much different. It sounded like true adoption, as if he was considering adopting a child or living animal. There was only one picture available. Since he had already gone through the trouble of reading this page, which now had a firm hold on his attention, he decided to take a look.

Agonizing seconds passed as the image loaded, looking blurry, pixilated, and out of focus. Slowly, the refresh redrew it, adding detail and correcting the nasty blocky imaging that was a side effect of such a large file when trying to view while downloading. Finally, the last re-imaging stroke was made and the human saw what he was reading about. A pair of tall, pointed ears set upon a mass of brown hair seeming to grow over an orange face. The eyes came into focus next, a pair of purple orbs of plastic surrounded by white. Tufts of fur surrounded the feminine cheeks, giving the plush a sort of puffy look, accentuating just how soft it had to be. A cute, black button nose at the end of a thin, graceful muzzle followed, combined with a set of lips pulled into a smile as most plushies had.

Already Chris was amazed at the quality of craftsmanship. The stitching could barely be seen, hidden by the fuzz of the stuffed animal's features. The line sliding down the image, seeming to be revealing the creature as if she were some kind of digital stripper, moved down over her neck and shoulders, making its way to her chest. Yes, it was indeed a female; two ample swells topped off with pink, rubbery nipples, actual nipples, gave that away. It slid lower, showing off her trim, fur covered tummy, a lovely sight. It was followed closely by her waist, not too wide, not too thin, stretching out into a set of broad, but not too broad hips, giving her a lovely hourglass figure. Then, the treasure of all treasures was shown, a fluffy tuft of fur surrounding a smooth, streamline slit; if he looked closely, he could almost see drops of moisture, probably water sprayed on as an added effect. The scrambled 'veil' passed lower to reveal her thighs, then her knees, then her calves, and finally, a pair of black socked feet. The human was completely mesmerized by the picture. He had to own this plush.

Without hesitation, he e-mailed the owner, making sure to write his message out as if he were truly looking to adopt, not own. He knew how some people thought online, humoring them by giving them exactly what they wanted to hear. Sometimes, that was not a good idea; other times, it made for the beginnings of a beautiful relationship. Now, if he played it right, it would mean a plush he could curl up with every night as if it was his girlfriend. As sad as it sounded, it was the perfect set up for him. The ravishing doll would indeed be marvelous to snuggle with in bed. It wouldn't lie to him, pretend to love, hide from him, or question his lifestyle. It would always be there for him, to comfort him, to keep him company and if it ever got dirty, he could just toss it in the washer. He was a lonely person. Having had his share of troubling matters of the heart, he stopped trying to reach out to others, at least in the manner that landed him his first relationship. Chris had long since given up on trying to find someone real to love. He simply assumed it wasn't something he was meant to have, and after a while it stopped bothering him. This would help him forget he thought. Having something to cuddle with just might be what he needed. Considering the item in question, Chris knew his draconian persona might help his argument. He considered his words carefully until the e-mail was complete.

To whom it may concern:

My name is Smokescale Aquatos, a humble water dragon of little consequence, and I am writing in response to a web page concerning the adoption of one full-sized vixen plush. I do not presume to judge the other applicants, but I do believe I would be the best choice. I have a warm, comfortable home where she would receive nothing but the greatest care and love. I already am caring for a vast number of other plushies, and though they are much smaller, I love them all equally and would show her nothing less. I'm certain during the rare occasions my job calls me away from my home, those I already have custody of would no doubt keep her company and befriend her. Not only would she receive the attention and affection she no doubt deserves, she would have three square meals (of whatever it is she might eat) a day and get plenty of exercise. As shown by the existence of this message, I have a computer and access to the internet so that she may seek any form of mental stimulation she desires. I have a steady income that as I previously mentioned rarely requires me to leave home, allowing me the chance to provide for another mouth in my home. I would consider adopting the lovely vixen a great honor. Please consider me in the vixen's best interests. I have enclosed information regarding my profile as well as a number of pictures to aid you in your decision. These pictures are of me and my home for your reference. I hope to hear from you soon.

Yours Truly, Smokescale Aquatos

With the e-mail completed, he created a "profile" document on himself and snapped off a couple of pictures with his digital camera, making sure to get a good group shot of his copious amounts of plush dolls. Chris attached all of this to the e-mail he had typed and sent it on its way, hoping against hope that he would get a positive response. The rest of the night was spent passing the image of the plush around, getting countless reactions. Some even opted to use the vixen shown as a character in their role-playing. The 'dragon' even joined in on the fun, logging his exploits for later entertainment. The next morning, he woke and found a message awaiting him in his inbox. Normally, this wouldn't have been any cause for celebration or excitement. Most of what he got was nothing more than spam. He grumbled quietly, muttering something about how a certain angel-friend of his online should find whoever it was sending these things and smash them like she enjoyed doing. He clicked on the icon to open his client, a single eyebrow raised, expecting some advertisement to either to offer a lower interest rate on his mortgage or boast the ability to add inches to his penis size, maybe both with the stupidity running amuck these days.

Instead to his surprise he found a message from the very person advertising the vixen's need for a home. As he read, his excitement grew. The person found his e-mail enlightening and well written, saying he was probably the best candidate for adopting her. It went on to say she wanted to meet with him to discuss it further. He immediately replied to the message saying he would love to meet her. He gave out more detailed information about where he lived and what he did for a job, hoping that would aid to his cause. Moments after he sent the new information, a new message arrived, detailing that she would be visiting his town in three days, requesting they meet at a coffee shop located at an addressed she happened to enclose. He set the time and gave her the make and color of his car, as well as how she should be able to pick him out of a crowd. With the specifics set, all he had to do was wait. He could barely contain his excitement, sharing the information with anyone and everyone online who seemed interested. The days passed, seeming to take forever to the overly enthusiastic human. He even cleaned the whole apartment in case she wanted to inspect it.

When the day finally came, Chris cleaned himself up nicely, putting on the clothes he mentioned he would wear, a white t-shirt with a dragon on the front and back and long khaki pants. To help with the identification, he told her to look for a green hardback book. He arrived at the coffee shop they agreed on ten minutes early, that obligatory doubt growing in his mind, thinking this all might be a sham. There he sat until the clock struck the appointed time. The very instant the second hand marked the time anew, designating the proper hour, a new car pulled into the lot and from out of it came an elderly lady, dressed as a gypsy of some kind. She walked in, leaning heavily on her cane, peering around the room until her eyes fell on Chris. His eyes met with hers and somehow, they both knew. She slowly made her way over, stopping at his table.

"Mr. Aquatos I presume?" She spoke in a thick European accent, the kind one might expect from a gypsy. Her features were weathered, skin sagging lightly from her face in gentle, aged folds. Under all this, she seemed to find the strength to smile at him. Instantly, he stood and helped her into a chair.

"Yes, I am indeed, m'lady. Can I get you something to drink or eat?" He responded with his own smile, warm and bright as she eased into the seat.

"Oh aren't you a gentlemanly dragon? No thank you my dear, I am fine. Please, let us speak of our business."

Chris sat down in his own seat, nodding in agreement with the elderly woman.

"Yes, let's. Please, feel free to ask me any questions you might have."

"Very well, how serious are you about adopting my dear vixen?"

"Very serious. I wouldn't dare mistreat her in any way. She would only have the best I can offer her." His eyes mirrored the earnestness in his voice, giving away that he was not acting; he was sincere in every way. The lady smiled.

"Wonderful... you do not know how happy it makes me to hear you say that." She leaned back in her seat a bit, sighing quietly as she rubbed her eyes a bit. Clearly the trip to town had used much of her strength.

"I am willing to pay whatever fee there might be for the adoption. Three hundred, three fifty, whatever it costs." He was telling a light fib this time since he only was able to set aside at most three twenty-five for this little venture. It was a little tactic his father had used to help drive the price down. It worked with honest people, but when it came to the species that sold used cars or health plans at fitness clubs, all it served to do was drive the price up. He felt he might have a chance at lowering the cost with this gypsy lady. She seemed an honest person, but he didn't want to short her. This was an impressive doll and it probably took a lot of hard work and a long time to make. He wanted her to get what she surely had earned. Instead of coming back with a counter-offer, she waved her hand lightly.

"You need not trouble yourself with such matters. We can discuss it later. Would you like to see her?" A somewhat wry grin crossed her face, as if she knew something he didn't.

"I would love to, m'lady. Shall I drive you there?" He raised a hand, pointing with it palm open and upturned at his metallic blue SUV. She shook her head again.

"No, no dear. I have a ride thank you though. Please follow my car."

He nodded and stood, helping her out of her seat and out to the car, the whole way listening to her remark about how kind a dragon he was. The fact she referred to him as a dragon made him chuckle softly, rather liking being called that. She climbed into her car with the help of her driver, informing him that the handsome young dragon was to follow them. The young man let the comment roll off as just something those beyond his age range usually said as little more than a passing compliment. Once she was secure, he raced over to his azure vehicle and climbed in, turning the engine over and buckling, ready for a drive in seconds. The two vehicles backed out of their spots and headed off down the road.

After about three quarters of an hour of driving on the highway and on various other roads, they came to a simple dirt road in a somewhat wooded area. Chris liked this portion of the drive, it was far more laid back than the bumper to bumper Nascar style traffic he dealt with getting this far. It was like driving through the country. After the brief jaunt through the woods, they came upon a collection of trailers and RV's all nestled together forming a sort of village-esque arrangement. The car in front of him slowed to a halt near one such trailer and out climbed the driver and passenger. Chris pulled up next to them, getting out following the woman inside as she beckoned him. The trailer's decor within was not unlike what he expected; somewhat dark colors, various mystical looking items, incense burning, beads hanging over the doorways, thin, shear curtains here and there, home knit blankets and the like. She eased onto a sofa with a soft moan of exertion, and then motioned for her guest to sit in a chair across from her which he did without hesitation. Before she spoke, she glanced at her driver who nodded and headed into a different part of the trailer.

"Now, you have expressed great eagerness and promised dedication in caring for my dear vixen. As any person of my age would know, you cannot simply take someone's word without being able to trust them. I ask that you allow me the chance to peer into your mind and your past, allow me to see what I will need to know in order to determine if I truly can trust you or not. You will feel no pain; however, should you decline, I will not be able to allow you to leave with my vixen."

This whole new sense of apprehension he picked up from her made him just slightly nervous. He didn't think she could really see into his mind and into his past, and since refusing would prevent him from leaving with that which he sought, he agreed, scooting forward.

"I understand and agree." He was taking a big risk he thought. She could easily attempt to knock him out with chloroform and do what she would with him; steal his wallet, leave him in the middle of nowhere, hold him for ransom. He could think of a thousand different things she might do to him, or what her rather burly companion might. She lifted her hands weakly to hold them on either side of his cheeks as her eyes drifted shut. A soft chant poured from her mouth and the smoke caused by the incense seemed to increase vastly, filling the room with swirling, scented clouds. It made him slightly dizzy, leaving him longing to have this whole ordeal over with.

Deep in the back of his mind was the pang of fear that perhaps she could indeed read his mind. If that were so, she could see every dirty thing he had done online, every mishap he had dealt with in the real world, all the flaws in his life and personality. The very thought of her seeing just how nasty he was as 'Smokescale Aquatos' made him sweat, thinking it would completely destroy any chance he might have at taking that lovely plushy home with him. It seemed like an eternity passed before she lowered her hands, breathing softly as if having exerted herself. Her soft brown eyes opened and peered out at the boy, her features pulled into a warm smile as he had seen before.

"I have seen all I need. I thank you for your trust." She looked back at the curtain of beads separating the rooms, "Olaf, you may come back in now."

And so he did, carrying with him a large bundle in his arms, appearing to be a form of some kind wrapped in a thin blanket.

"Here you are Mistress Rayla." He lowered the 'body' onto the sofa next to the old woman, taking great care with it as if it were horribly fragile. She dipped her head slightly before turning back to the guest at hand.

"You mentioned earlier about payment. I require none. I simply wished for my dear, sweet vixen to have someone to care for her, to look after her after I am gone. I see her as a child of mine and want only the best for her. I believe you would make the perfect companion for her, beyond any doubt. Please, take her and love her. Treat her as you would a living being. She is far more than she appears."

No payment? Surely she was joking. She had to charge him something.

"I don't think I could just take it... I mean her without reimbursing you in some fashion. Please, allow me to pay for the vixen." As he spoke, Rayla's face pulled tight, showing her frustration in being unable to convey her thoughts accurately.

"She is not something to be bought and sold, to be paid for. She is not a slave, nor a piece of property. You would do well to remember that. Now, please, take her to her new home and let her live a rich, happy life with you." Her eyes closed and her wrinkles drooped slightly, forming a look of fatigue upon her visage. Olaf moved to her side and examined her before looking back at Chris.

"The mistress is quite tired, exhausted by today's trip and your reading. Please do as she asks. She does not require money or other worldly goods. Take the vixen and carry her home." His voice was deep, sounding rather Ukrainian in nature and the smaller man was not about to disobey orders. He scooped the bundle up, lifting it as if it were a human being in his arms before turning to the two gypsies.

"Thank you. Thank you for this wonderful gift. I shall treasure her forever." After a light bow, he exited the trailer and headed to his car, laying the lightweight form down in the back seat, going to the trouble of securing it with the seatbelts there. As he climbed behind the wheel, Olaf came running out after him with a thin, leather bound book, smallish, looking like a diary of some kind.

"The lady forgot to have you take this with you. Be sure to read it." For a guy who probably could play linebacker for a professional football team, he certainly sounded literate and well spoken, not so much from the words he used, but how he used them. The smaller of the two males took the book with a thank you and placed it in the seat next to him before pulling away in the now lightly dusty metallic blue car. The drive home was uneventful for the most part, save a few insane drivers who refused to let anyone pass them. When he finally got back to his apartment complex, the sun was beginning to dip low in the sky, fading into a bright sunset, shattering the azure sky into a rainbow of reds, oranges, and yellows. This was a problem. There was still light enough for him to be seen carrying the vixen inside, even worse since she was bundled up. Someone might mistake him for having kidnapped someone and try to alert the authorities. The only option he had was to look around carefully, then bolt for his door.

For several moments, he stood there by his car, attempting to look casual as he glanced around slowly, seeing no one around or even looking out their windows at him. There was someone walking their dog far down the way, too far to make a distinct identification and heading away from him. It was the right moment. He reached in, scooped the plush up, still covered by the blanket, closed the door, armed the car, and then darted for the stairs. He got across the driveway/road without being spotted, but that was only part of the way. His feet stepped lightly on the stairs, missing every other rung to expedite his ascension. The second floor came quickly and just as he was rounding the landing to make the jaunt up the next flight, he could hear doorknobs clicking, turning, and opening. His heart raced and he started skipping steps two at a time, leaping up the stairwell as fast as his legs could propel him.

The second landing passed even faster than the first, serving as the halfway point between floors two and three. He spun around, pausing to see someone turned around, working their key to lock the door behind them. With a renewed urge to escape being seen, he fired off up the last flight, skipping three steps with each pump of his tiring legs. At last, the final landing came and he shot forward to his own door, fumbling with his keys as yet another doorknob began to click, turn, and open. Chris's heart was in his throat as he sank the metal tab home in the housing of the deadbolt's workings, twisting it frantically before gripping the doorknob with one free hand, turning it, kicking the door open, then slipping through the frame. The spring-equipped hinges sent the portal's face into the shut position. A deeply satisfying slam rang out in his ears before he locked the deadbolt back. He was safe. Hopefully, no one had seen him carrying what could have been a dead body up to his apartment to do god knows what with it.

With the effort he put forth beginning to catch up with him, his chest heaving, his legs burning lightly from carbonic acid screaming for him to rest, he carried the plush to his bedroom. There he lay it down on the bed where he uncovered it. It was as if he was watching his computer compile the image again. First came her face, that same fluffy, orange and white face complete with a black button nose. There were the two tall, pointed ears tipped in black atop shoulder length hair, auburn and shiny as if it had been shampooed. Her thin, elegant muzzle rose only half a foot from her face, giving her a decidedly vulpine countenance. The next feature to come was her neck, smooth, graceful, coated in a soft, fuzzy pelt that to him was to die for. Next came her shoulders and part of her chest.

The blanket peeled away to reveal her smooth, luscious curves as he began parting it further down, not wanting to take his time in unveiling his latest acquisition. The twin lumps of what normally would be flesh rose above the rest of her torso, seeming larger than they had on the computer. But not overly large. They appeared to be of the correct proportion if somewhat on the generous side. His eyes trailed down her form until it reached her tummy, trim, smooth, coated in the same soft pelt as the rest of her.

The next feature in view was her crotch which seemed to hold his attention for a long while. His eyes focused on those velvety lips, screaming out to be kissed, stroked, parted, and filled. It was all he could do to keep from seeing if she had the means to actually allow for that kind of activity. The human shook his head to clear his mind of such thoughts before continuing on down the line, actually reaching out to caress her supple thighs, soft and yielding as any plush should be. Upon making contact with her fur, he closed his eyes and smiled, imagining curling up with his plush every night from now on, mashing his face into her chest and rubbing that smooth, silky fur all over his cheeks.

A few fingers trailed down over her knees and calves to her paws, stroking them softly as if to see if the vixen was ticklish. Upon getting no response, he chuckled and climbed up onto the bed, lying down next to the toy. There he wrapped his arms around her and squeezed ever so gently. He gave off what could be construed as a purr, that soft rumble in his throat signifying that he was ecstatic with his newly gained company.

Tonight, he would sleep wonderfully.