FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

Once more, summer had rolled around, shining down over the landscape and drawing people of all ages outdoors. A season for pools, beaches, games, and as much ice cream as it took to keep cool. For most people, anyway. For the growing youth, May meant a break in college courses, which meant it was time to work. Students raced for the simplest decent-paying jobs they could find, while trying to squeeze in some fun during their summer break so they didn't go completely insane.

All, it seemed, except for Oliver. Yes, the feline boy had found himself a job, but everything to do with ease and pay had come secondary to what the job entailed. Something intriguing had reached his ears; a rumor that'd trickled carelessly down the grapevine, which spoke of a new sideshow at the yearly carnival. Normally he'd count himself foolish to even consider following these ridiculous stories. The looming threat of lawsuits would dissuade most carnies from sticking any rare species on display in a hot, cramped enclosure for drunken patrons to gawk at for ten dollars a head. But the carnival was held at the edge of a small town a half-hour's drive from his already quiet college town, limiting legal oversight; and the scant details provided had been more than enough to pique his interest.

So, despite the indignity of having to mop up god-knows-what and sweep ridiculous amounts of trash at the carnival, Oliver had grabbed the one job opening they'd advertised and resigned himself to janitorial work, just so he could be closer to the thing that had haunted his dreams for nearly a year. He just had to hope the rumors were accurate, and he wasn't being led to another dead end.

Even with that possibility stewing in the back of his mind, Oliver found himself excited to get to work. The mere act of stepping away from the campus and into the busy hum of the carnival was enough to elevate his mood, in spite of how he'd be spending his time there. The drive there felt excruciatingly long, and he only became more jittery as the first couple hours of the job dragged by. Once on the carnival grounds, the cat boy had immediately snatched up a schedule of events, and learned that the "Deep Sea Surprise" was to be shown off after nightfall—in the tent set aside for more mature showings.

Oliver's heart jumped up to his throat. If it wasn't her, then what else could it be? Sundown could not come quickly enough! He'd already negotiated with his boss and gotten some overtime hours, something the old man thought endearing, ignorant of the feline's intentions. Sure, he could have just gone to the carnival as a customer, waited until the after dark shows and confirmed that the object of his obsession was here. But then what? Sneak in at night, risk being caught, roughed up, and possibly even arrested? Or worse? These were carnies, after all. Some of them hardly passed for sapient, never mind lawful.

The job was his only hope, and it'd either pay off in a big way, or just be another disappointing summer gig. Damn, he should have picked a later shift. If the heat didn't kill him, the anticipation surely would.

Eventually, though, the hours managed to slip away. Oliver focused on the job, avoided glancing at the rearmost tents where the adult shows would be held, and guzzled nearly enough water to become aquatic, himself. The sun dipped over the horizon. A different sort of crowd began to replace the hordes of children and teenagers, and the vibrant lights seemed to grow duller, more muted and mysterious.

Oliver casually slipped into the tent where the "Deep Sea Surprise" would be shown and hid himself in a corner. If he was lucky, no one would notice him sweeping the same spot for a half-hour. The lights dimmed, and the head honcho carnie waltzed out and began to play up the mystery behind the creature hidden beneath an enormous tarp behind him.

"Never before seen by man," the aging man proclaimed with wide, sweeping gestures, "Beautiful, terrible, and alien! A one of a kind specimen, from depths untouched by us land dwellers! I give you..."

Unseen hands gave a dramatic tug, stealing away the tarp covering a huge glass tank filled to the top with sea water. The word echoed in Oliver's ears: "Scylla". The sound of awed, horrified, and mystified gasps came muted to him, but the sound of his broom's handle clattering to the floor seemed so loud.

There she was. Dark and beautiful and otherworldly, just as she was on that one summer day. Even the dimmed, ghostly lights of the tent were reminiscent of the glowing cave to which Maera had stolen him away for a romp—or they would, if a spotlight up above hadn't shone so intensely down upon her tank the second the tarp had been pulled. It all seemed so surreal, but there she floated, squinting in what must have been harsh, sudden light in her eyes, her tentacles flashing yellow and blue rings in what could have only signified frustration.

The old carnie kept talking, but his words meant nothing. Something of an awkward joy came over the feline, and he couldn't stop gawking from his spot at the back of the tent. For the last year, he'd been haunted by dreams, by memories of his aquatic captor. He'd stared across the ocean in the waning days of summer, wondering if it had all just been a particularly vivid dream. The dark pink circles on his skin could have been explained away if he'd tried hard enough, and there had been no lingering evidence that he'd been kidnapped by a mythical octo-lady with a singleminded desire to milk cum from sensitive land boys.

Oliver shifted in place to conceal the firmness threatening to pitch a tent of its own. No sense getting this far only to be reprimanded for getting hard on the job. The carnies spouted some nonsense about scyllas and how she'd been captured on a fishing boat. Apparently she'd been discreetly sold by the ship's captain, who often encountered minor cryptid creatures at sea. All manner of monsters were thrown into the mix—merfolk, kelpies, sea nymphs! Any number of them could have been true or a flat-out lie, but the crowd ate it up all the same. If this octo-legged beauty was possible, then so was anything else!

The shuffling mass of bodies all lined up for pictures with the aquatic oddity. Five bucks a shot. Oliver swept absentmindedly, perplexed as to how the scylla had allowed herself to be captured in the first place. He'd experienced her strength firsthand, and there was no way these braindead carnies could resist the hypnotic light show she'd shown the catboy during their encounter. So why wasn't she using it?

One by one, each patron got their photographic souvenir of sapient exploitation, then listened to more hogwash before moving on to the next exhibit. Another couple hours passed, and the carnival began to shut down for the night. Oliver, being the considerate worker that he was, volunteered to sweep up after hours with the small handful of others who clearly needed the money. Disappearing back into the cryptid tent was almost distressingly easy; he half-expected someone to be guarding the oversized fish tank where his seafaring mate had been kept for god knows how long.

Alas, he found no such sentry. Oliver breathed a sigh of relief and quietly approached the covered tank. The tent lights had been shut off, the lights outside casting ghostly shadows along the canvas walls. "Please don't drown me." he whispered as he gave a cautious tug to the tarp covering the tank. The dim outline of the scylla greeted his eyes, followed quickly by an otherworldly rainbow kaleidoscope.

And like that, the fog rolled in over his mind. The cascading colors fell over her shoulders and down her breasts, over her shapely tummy and hips. The patterns really bloomed to life in those tentacles, forming rainbow spirals and circles that pulsed and shifted and throbbed pure prismatic pleasure into his mind. His eyes followed as she rose to the top of the tank and bumped against the lid. A sliding latch kept it shut tight, but some insistent pointing and a continuous burst of colors was enough to coax Oliver into motion, his fingers fumbling with the lock, so dizzy and clumsy while he stared into the hypnotic glow. Eventually he managed, sliding open the lock and allowing the top of the tank to rise.

"You people are going to pay for peddling me around like a freak." The deep, seductive tones he remembered were absent from Maera's voice. In her words he found only malice, even as the tentacles which had filled him with such endless pleasure effortlessly lifted him from the ground and brought him eye to eye with the scylla. "I'd enact my revenge right here and now if I didn't need you to..." Her knitted brows scrunched further, as if in confusion, and her narrowed eyes began to widen. Soon her whole face lit up in a mix of perplexed, but unmistakable recognition. "You..?"

"Muh... me..?" Oliver, now so close to her face and freed from the immediate glow of her supernatural body, found a hole in the haze and clawed at it with all his mental fortitude. "Me... Me! Yes, it's me!" Clarity gripped his senses and frantically urged him to confirm that he was not one of her captors. "You remember me? Oh god, please remember me."

The enthralling lights dimmed to a low glow, enough to simply illuminate the pair as Maera gazed upon him. She studied him for several uncomfortable moments, then quietly conceded, "Yes, I do. The last victim of my love cave."

"Love cave". Oliver couldn't help but snort a laugh at that, but it was short lived; Maera coiled a tentacle around his neck and cut off his breath, causing the feline to squeak out a meek little, "Wait..!"

"So did you lead them to me? Told them where to find me?" the scylla's voice dipped low again, that challenging glare returning to her features. "Was it so gross for you that you had to sell me out, you legged scum?"

"No..!" the catboy wheezed, shaking his head and waving his arms frantically. His chest burned, and the edges of his vision began to darken when she squeezed tighter. "I came to ghh--gllk...!"

"Came to what?" Maera growled, loosening the tentacle and allowing him to take several long, precious breaths.

"Get you... out..." Oliver panted, clasping his hands together in a pleading display. "Everyone but the late shift cleaning crew is gone. I can stick the tank in my car and we can drive you back to the ocean!"

Another long, tense moment passed. The tentacle around Oliver's throat gradually loosened and fell away, and Maera posed a simple question: "The hell's a car?"

"I... Oh, I'll explain on the way." Oliver twisted and wiggled, but Maera's tentacles held him firmly aloft. "Uh. This is the part where you put me down and I save you."

"Our children are so beautiful." In an instant, that familiar seductive murmur returned, and she leaned in to whisper into Oliver's big, sensitive feline ear. "Safe and sound in the nursery gardens, of course."

"Cool..?" Oliver tried to pry himself away, cheeks turning a bright shade of pink. "You can tell me all about it on th--"

"I want another clutch."

"Clutch?"

"Of eggs. With you."

Oliver suppressed a yelp as she started to pull him into the tank. He grabbed onto the sides and pushed hard, but another pair of tentacles restrained his arms and pried them away from the glass. "Hang on! Can't you wait to fuck me? What if we get caught?"

"I'll just hypnotize anyone else who comes in!"

"Why couldn't you do that before, then?"

"It was too bright in the room." Maera offered up a rushed explanation while she lifted the struggling catboy into the tank. "Now stop squirming and make me a mama again!"

"No, wai--!" SPLASH! The muffled sound of water rushing around his ears drowned out the rest of his plea. It would be a wonder if no one had heard them. He scrambled for the surface, only for Maera's face to come into view, her lips sealing firmly around his. A breath forced its way into his mouth, and he instinctively inhaled. Fresh oxygen rejuvenated his panicked lungs, and he exhaled bubbles through his nose. For several long moments they floated there, him tangled in her tentacles, her feeding him air through her mouth. Even in the cold water, Oliver felt his cheeks flush.

Then he felt his shirt tear. He thrashed around in protest, but the fuck-frenzied scylla paid it no mind. His shredded top was tossed out of the tank, and her tentacles immediately descended upon him, kissing and caressing and tugging at his sensitive skin. The catboy pinched his nose so he wouldn't instinctively breathe in through it, silently enduring Maera's suckered assault on his bare chest, tummy, and back. Everything started to grow hazy, and he realized that he needed a true fresh breath. Mammalian dive reflex had kept him from burning too much oxygen, but now with her tentacles groping him all over, his heart was picking right back up.

He reached for the top of the cage, and Maera finally seemed to take a hint, her rubbery tendrils loosening just enough for him to get his head above water. Oliver panted and coughed, eyes flicking frantically around the tent. Thankfully no one else seemed to be around. He glared at Maera when she poked her head up, smirking at him. "You're gonna get us caught, and then we'll both be in trouble."

"All I want is a quickie." the scylla crooned, pressing him up against the glass, tentacles surrounding him on all sides. "And I'm gonna have it whether you want it or not."

"I just want to get you home! What's so hard to... unders... understand ab... abuh..." Oliver's mind clouded over in a haze of rainbow colors. The entire tank glowed in a prismatic maelstrom, and only intensified when she pulled herself higher, her breasts shimmering with hypnotic patterns. "Just stare at my tits. It'll feel good, I promise."

"Nnh... nnooo, I need'a... need... tuh..." Oliver turned his head left, then right, but the lights... her breasts... Round, full, perky breasts... "No... fair."

"All's fair in love, war, and fucking." Maera purred, busying her lips with Oliver's neck while her tentacles relieved him of his pants. The rational part of the catboy's mind simply appreciated that any kisses she gave would keep her quiet, while the rest of him went into needy slut-boy overdrive. His head leaned to one side, exposing his neck for her, and his back arched to press his chest against the caressing tentacles slithering over his now naked body.

However, with her body firmly pressed to his, the hypnotic glow was out of sight, and rational thought began to creep its way back in, though at a snail's pace. The familiar feeling of her hot, squishy sex clenching around his cock threatened to draw a cry of pleasure from his lips, but Maera silenced it in her own naughty way; one tentacle stuck in the mouth, another wrapped around his head, suckers pulsing, glowing, throbbing with hypnotic patterns. Oliver's posture slumped, supported only by Maera's firm grip against the side of the tank, moaning through his nose while the scylla friskily mated with him.

"Hush, kitty." the octo-woman huffed into his ear, "Or we'll get caught."

"That's my line." the catboy so badly wanted to quip, somewhere in the tiny part of his mind untouched by the fog. Oliver's head spun, his body trembling with every kiss of her suckers, every sucking tug of her cunt when she pulled back, only to thrust herself forward and impale herself on him again. The pulsing, spiraling, flashing colors kept him docile and pliable, pushing his thoughts to the depths of his mind and filling up the empty space with endless ecstasy.

Somewhere in his fog-fucked head, the sound of Maera's voice continued to resonate with such musical clarity, such enrapturing tone, that the transition from soft, encouraging croons to actual, rhythmic song became almost indistinct. Every note produced by her perfect lips spun around Oliver's mind and twisted his soul into heart-shaped knots.

"Foolish sailor, hear my song

Floating over wave and sea

Worry not, for nothing's wrong

Lend your ears and come for me"

The catboy groaned around the tentacle in his mouth; she'd slowed her pace, seemingly to match the song now spiraling around within him, and he thought only to match her, a slave to the verse, despite his cock's throbbing insistence otherwise.

"Heed not superstitious tales

Upon the waves does moonlight shine

Cast your woes up to the sails

For soon enough you will be mine

Foolish sailor, take my hand

One last step, embrace the sea

Bid farewell to ship and land

Hold your breath, and come to me..." Maera's musical tones grew breathy, huffing against Oliver's all-attentive ear. "Come... for me..."

Was she finally giving him permission?

"Come for... Cum... CUM for me..!"

However tight Maera's tentacles held him, nothing could stop Oliver from thrashing and bucking against her after that switch was flipped in his head. Rope after hot, fertile rope of seed was fed to her hungry sex. Oliver's teeth sank into the rubbery tendril in his mouth, an act apparently considered inoffensive, as Maera hardly appeared to react. Oliver's addled mind could only figure that she was at least half as blissed-out as he was, once the hypnotizing tentacle uncoiled itself from his head and revealed her to him once more; the scylla's back arched, eyes hazy, mouth covered by a hand to muffle the lewd sounds pouring forth from her throat.

For a long time, they lay against the glass wall, Oliver's cock throbbing, heart pounding, mind positively reeling. Just like last time, she wanted every drop; her cunt continued to clench and squeeze and suck, not allowing a single strand of seed to cloud her aquatic prison.

"Fuck." she finally exhaled, her body going limp against his, very nearly forcing him under the water. She propped him up just as quickly and grinned at the dazed and fucked-silly cat now resting beneath her. "See? Wasn't so bad."

"Buh..." Somewhere in his mind, that was meant to be a word. What word, exactly, he couldn't quite recall. Something witty, something scolding, or perhaps even gratitude. Eventually his mind managed to recognize something other than "pretty colors", "haunting voice", and "fuck fuck fuck, breed breed breed", and he blinked away the last after images of the spiraling bliss she'd pressed against his face. "That was..."

"Great?"

"Reckless." Oliver's cheeks flushed, and he splashed them with the tepid water to cool them. "But... also great. Fuck."

The scylla only giggled in response. She peered around the room, then silently appraised the glass prison in which she'd been held for so long. "So you said you could get me home?"

"The ocean's only a half-hour from here." Oliver carefully climbed out of the tank, but not before searching around for his shorts and boxers. Completely soaked, of course. It was definitely going to be an uncomfortable drive. "If we're lucky, no one will see us leave. Though wheeling this thing out of here isn't going to be subtle."

There was no other way, though. His car was out in the parking lot, well away from the attractions. Sure, it wasn't lit up at this hour, but there was the possibility of running into the after-hours crew smoking a blunt before heading home. Still, there was an obvious solution to being spotted. "You uh," Oliver cautiously began, "You can hypnotize anyone who might catch us, right?"

"Long as it's dark enough." Maera hung over the edge of the tank, a hand reaching out for Oliver's ears and giving them an experimental tug. She giggled when he ducked away. "I do wonder, though, why you're going to all this trouble."

"I'll explain when we're safe." Again, the heat rose into his cheeks. Maybe he'd work up the guts to admit just how effectively she'd wrapped him around her finger the last time once they'd found the safety of the road.

His sharp eyes and ears scanned for activity upon wheeling the tank out of the tent. Distant sounds of people chatting, brooms sweeping, and shitty music playing over low-quality speakers set him on edge, but he figured he could work his way around a few distracted college kids and burnt-out middle-aged potheads. He wound up mostly correct, save for one brief encounter with another new hire. The poor guy had only a half-second to look perplexed before his whole world was swallowed by glowing, whirling colors. It took every ounce of restraint Oliver had to avoid turning and looking into them, himself.

A few whispered words from the enchanting scylla proved sufficient to have the dazed janitor wander elsewhere, eyes glazed, head swimming in pretty lights. Oliver pushed the cart along, its aquatic occupant peering out with wide, curious eyes. This was probably her first true glance at the surface world beyond the beach, as alien to her as the glowing underwater cave had been to Oliver.

After the longest ten minutes of his life, and a few close calls to boot, Oliver got the tank to his car. It was at this point when he realized he'd vastly overestimated the size of his vehicle, and felt his heart drop to the tips of his toes. "Aw hell."

"What?" Maera leaned over, curious violet eyes flicking from Oliver to the car. "Do I need to subdue this big silver landshark?"

"Landsh—what—no." He could have laughed if his rising panic had let him. "This is how I meant to get you home. Only your tank's way bigger than I pictured."

"So are we screwed?" Maera's tone didn't suggest distress, but there was a definite furrow in her brow.

Oliver paced back and forth. He unlocked and opened the back door, put the seats down, and tried to imagine about every which way he could, in essence, fit the giant, water-filled square peg in the round-ish hole presented to him. There was no denying it; that tank wasn't fitting. Even if it was, he wasn't nearly strong enough to lift it. For just a moment, his frustration at his poorly-conceived plan overpowered his despair, and his mind clung to it as a thought found its way to his lips: "Why do you absolutely have to have water? Goddammit."

"I can go without for a little bit."

Oliver's ears perked. "What?"

"I mean, not for hours and hours." Maera shrugged. "You said half an hour, right? I'll live."

The spark of hope now flickering within him may as well have been the sun! Quickly, Oliver ushered her out of the tank. She climbed awkwardly over the edge and, with the feline's help, lowered herself onto the dirt below. She immediately made a face. "Oh, this is the worst."

"Deal with it." the catboy growled, practically shoving her into the car. He rolled his eyes when, for the first time, he saw panic in her expression. "It isn't a shark, now get in!"

"Okay, okay!" Into the back seat she squirmed. Oliver tried not to think about how hard he'd have to scrub the floor and seats after this. She was just so... slick and fishy. And in spite of how gross it all sounded in his head, all he could imagine was being trapped in her tentacles again...

Shoving that pleasant distraction aside, Oliver climbed inside, threw the car into gear, and casually pulled out of the lot. No sense speeding out like an action hero and attracting attention, after all. A quick drive down a dirt road brought him to the highway, and he felt the tension melt away from his muscles. Against all odds, and despite his extremely poor planning, he'd done it!

"Oh!" Maera chirped from the back seat, her eyes alight with realization. "THIS is a car!"

"Yes. Yes it is." the feline boy laughed, finally allowing himself to feel genuine relief. Without the looming fear of discovery hanging over him, Oliver took his time on the road. A traffic stop now would bring about some uncomfortable questions for sure.

"So?" the scylla leaned between the front seats, her hands finding their way to Oliver's lap, causing the catboy to squirm just a little. "Why'd you come help me? Last I remember, you couldn't wait to get away from me."

The dreaded question. The one he'd promised to answer once they were home free. "Because you belong in the sea. Not a glass cage." he mumbled, cheeks warming again.

"Uh uh." Maera persisted, practically hanging on him from the back seat, her breasts pressing against his shoulder. "We met one time a year ago, and you struggled and fought me the entire time before I mindfucked you. Yet somehow you find out I'm captured, come all this way, risk being caught, beat up, imprisoned yourself, or whatever those guys would do... For a woman you had one unwilling fling with? Sorry, but that answer's not gonna cut it."

"Dammit, fine." the feline grumbled, averting his eyes from her and focusing on the road ahead. "I did it because every dream I've had in the past year was of you!"

The scylla's lips curled upward. "Go on..."

"You're really gonna..." Oliver huffed. His cheeks burned, but he didn't let embarrassment stop him. "I guess I wanted to see you again. Because you forcing yourself on me was the hottest thing ever."

"There it is." Maera giggled, leaning over to kiss him on the cheek. "See? That wasn't so bad."

"Yeah, for you." the feline boy grumped. The rest of the car ride was uneventful; not a single other vehicle passed while they drove, and there was no sign of pursuing carnies. Sure, they might suspect him, but there was little they could do. He'd given them fake personal information, and they hadn't checked it. Their loss.

The beach entrance came over the darkened horizon. Normally it'd be closed off this late at night, but some idiot had broken the gate and the city couldn't be bothered to pay someone to watch it. "Hooray for governmental apathy." Oliver mumbled as he drove out onto the sand. Maera questioned the comment, but got only a grunt in response.

They stopped shortly before the water, and Oliver climbed out of the car to unlock the trunk. "Not long now and you'll be home."

"I still can't believe you did all this for me." the scylla took his offered hand as she slithered out onto the sand. They stood there staring at one another for several long moments, some strange electricity keeping their gazes bound under the light of the full moon and a billion-trillion stars. "You um... You will come back, right?"

Oliver's cheeks could have been tomatoes, they flushed so deeply. He started for the water, leading her along and kicking off his shoes to leave them by the car. "I mean, I came back a bunch of times. You were just never there."

"Well duh, I'd been kidnapped."

"Fair." He still had to answer her question, though. Did he have what it took to come back here and have his balls drained by this hypersexual monster? "You're pretty rough when you fuck."

Maera giggled, a hint of bashful sheepishness in her tone. "I do tend to lose control when I know I'm being bred... Sorry. I can be gentle, I promise!"

Somehow he doubted that, but it didn't deter him entirely. Yes, it was exhausting, and just a little humiliating to be bred by her. But it was also fucking hot. The cat boy huffed. He stopped before the water and took a breath. “Maybe we can do more than just have sex next time?"

“More?"

“Yeah, like… get to know one another. You know. Talk?"

Maera stared, a puzzled look in her eyes. “I thought guys loved to fuck."

“Oh we do. We definitely do." Oliver's cheeks practically blazed. Did this sea creature not know a thing about land-walker courtship? “But we like to talk, too! And um… hug and kiss and cuddle…"

Something apparently clicked in the girl's head, her eyes brightening mischievously. “Is this one of those 'dates' I've heard your kind are so fond of?"

“K-Kinda? I guess?" he squeezed her hand, and she returned the gesture with enthusiasm. “So… would you?"

“I've never gone on a date. I usually… well, you know what I usually do." Maera giggled, her tongue tracing her perfect lips. She looked him in the eyes and leaned in close, placing a little kiss to his lips. “But you have piqued my interest. We can go on a date. In return, I get to fuck you again."

Oliver snorted a laugh. He couldn't imagine a more perfect scenario for the average man. Imagine if land-dwellers were this easy. Overpopulation would be a very real thing. “Deal."

“Then I'll see you back here in… how long?"

“Uh—how about…" Did her kind measure the days in the same way? What was a weekend to a creature whose sole biological drive consisted of eating, sleeping, and fucking? “Four… four days from now? When the sun sits high."

Her lips found his again, longer this time, her tentacles slithering around his topless chest and tummy. He'd never get used to this feeling, and the raging tent in his shorts convinced him that this was a good thing. “I'll see you right here."

His aquatic lover returned to the sea, casting a big smile over her shoulder before she disappeared into the gentle crashing waves. Boundless and free like the very ocean that'd spawned her, but now tethered to land by a promise. A promise of hot, slick, tentacled affection. Oliver swallowed hard and took a stiff breath. Four days. Just four days to train up his endurance. Challenge accepted.