FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

The werewolf showed eagerness in his work. The sword in front of him needed polishing and Govil, a proud wolf as he was, was intent on doing a good job with it.

Especially on days like these where the Commander decided to show up to watch the morning polishing.

Govil worked harder, making sure that every inch of that sword was shining and wet. Despite the hard work, the young werewolf felt cold. The biting, northern winds of Bastorias could be felt even between the high stone walls of the keep surrounding the courtyard he stood in. As a proud werewolf of the wolf bloodline, Govil had a thick, shiny coat of fur protecting him from said cold, but even despite that, he could feel the cold wind brushing past it.

Govil wore his kilt, the traditional clothing of his kind, yet something at the very back of his mind nagged at him. Back in the day when he wore his kilt, he didn’t remember feeling the wind brushing underneath his balls as they hung down, exposed as the short cloth of his kilt could only cover so much. Even as he worked, a tiny, distant part of his mind thought for a split-second that the pants he always wore under the kilt should take care of that, but they weren’t there now…

It didn’t matter. Govil knew everything was as it should be.

The cold snow on the ground he was kneeling on didn’t help either. At least it made the ground soft, for Govil had been kneeling for quite a while and he knew, from the long line of soldiers from his unit still standing there, that he’d still be kneeling for quite a while as well.

Govil worked harder. His muzzle ached as he continued to polish his soldier’s sword as hard as he could. The wolf worked with a passion, though. A passion he had always had to bloody get things done. This was something he knew he had to do, for the good of his people, and damn if he wasn’t going to get it done.

The werewolf whose sword he was polishing put a hand behind the kneeling wolf’s head. Govil growled, hating when that happened, but he didn’t protest when the werewolf, letting out a guttural growl, forced his head down deeper.

Govil gagged and let out a growl of his own. He felt the werewolf’s ‘sword’ poking at the back of his throat. His soldiers were way more mindless and bestial than he remembered them, but that was how it was meant to be.

As his sword was nearly polished, the werewolf’s instincts got the best of him, as they always did. Govil endured the werewolf’s hips thrusting into his muzzle. The werewolf’s sword, shiny and coated with Govil’s saliva, disappeared into his muzzle entirely save for the thick, engorged pommel at its base that had grown too thick to push past his teeth. The werewolf seemed intent on shoving the knot- no, pommel, past it, as his instincts demanded, but it was just too big to fit. His entire sword was too big to fit on Govil’s muzzle, but the werewolf just opened his jaw as wide as he could and endured it.

His tongue worked harder to polish that sword to completion and, as Govil knew would happen, a deeper, strong growl came from the werewolf soldier above him as he shot thick, strong burst of his seed straight down Govil’s throat. The wolf struggled to take it all, some of it running down the side of his muzzle to mat his fur and join the residue from all the previous swords he had polished that strained Govil’s neck fur.

As the werewolf’s instincts finally subsided, the clawed hand holding Govil’s head finally relented and the werewolf was allowed to pull back. He coughed, his throat feeling sore and the salty taste lingering in his mouth, but Govil still smiled as he looked up with pride.

The werewolf’s sword still throbbed. The red, veiny member shone from his spit. It looked less engorged now that it was spent, but the thick pommel at its base kept it hard and firm. Govil leaned forward to lap at the last remnant of liquid at its tip, which had the werewolf shifting in place and growling for the feel of tongue on his sensitive sword. Govil, however, growled back and gave the soldier a dirty look.

The werewolf, no matter how feral his gaze, lowered his ears at that and stood properly in line, his sword coated in saliva on full display.

The next soldier in line was ready. His sword was out of its sheath, both from watching his companion’s sword get polished and from knowing what was coming after going through this so many times. Every single morning since the day Govil’s unit had joined the mighty Zenoiran empire after their failed rebellion.

Govil moved on, his muzzle taking in the sword of the next soldier in line. This one was thicker and longer than the previous one, the werewolf in question already starting to growl in response to the polishing.

Govil’s tongue got to work. He still had many swords to polish if he was to be a good Captain and keep his unit’s equipment in top shape.

The werewolf was serving his fifteenth soldier when he heard steps beside him. Govil tried to retreat to look, but the werewolf whose sword he was polishing was too close to done. A paw came to violently pull him back before he could pull away. The sound of steps coming behind him intensified. Several steps, Govil’s ears could detect, as the werewolf’s sword throbbed to completion, feeding the kneeling wolf another load off from his soldier.

Govil pulled back, a strand of fluid coming to mat his muzzle right above his nose before he turned around.

“Elgor, sir!” Govil quickly said, bowing in respect for the great Commander of the Zenoiran army in Bastorias.

Even while bowing, the werewolf was still taller than the small, white rat that stood before him. Unlike Govil, who wore nothing but his kilt that barely covered anything, Elgor wore his full set of black Zenoiran army with red clothing beneath, as was fitting for a Commander of his position.

Though Govil had vague memories of looking down at the rat bloodline and, most of all, Elgor himself as the main reason for Bestral oppression, now Govil’s ears folded back and his tail tucked itself between his legs in respect.

“That’s a good look for you, rebel,” Elgor said with a snicker. “Guess what? I brought you company.”

Govil raised his eyes to see a familiar face standing beside Elgor. Bertrand, a large Bestral of the bear bloodline, wasn’t wearing his usual set of heavy armor nor the large shield Govil remembered always seeing him with. Much like Govil’s soldiers, the bear was entirely naked, leaving his limp, hanging member on full display. As a bear, however, Bertrand was almost twice as tall as Govil with a broad chest, thick arms, and because of that, even while soft between his legs, Govil couldn’t help but notice how everything else was also in scale.

“After your rebellion unit came knocking on our door, we decided to snuff out and take full control of all Bestrals in your region. This big guy, much like you, thought he could put up a fight when we cornered his city. Now look at him…”

Elgor chuckled and gave the bear’s leg a few pats. Bertrand didn’t react with more than a bearly grunt mixed with a growl.

“I decided that, since you’re doing such a good job as Captain of your new unit within Zenoira, I’d give you a loyal number two,” Elgor continued. His voice was dripping with mockery rather than the seriousness expected of a commander giving orders.

“Sir?” Govil asked, raising an eyebrow. “I know Bertrand well, he and I had our fair share of disagreements. I don’t think he’ll-”

“Shut it, werewolf,” Elgor said, interrupting him. “He’s eager to serve, don’t you see? I’m here to make sure he learns his place, just like you did.”

From his pocket, Elgor pulled out a blue crystal. The Bastorias Blue…

Govil looked at it with reverence. The Bastorias Blue was the symbol of royalty among Bestrals. A symbol of utmost respect.

Elgor grinned as he raised the crystal. From it, a bright, blue light shone for just a split second…

Bertrand blinked. It was as if the blue light awakened the bear.

The large bear stepped forward. Before Govil could even react, the large bear’s arms enveloped him in a hug. They started feeling him, groping him…

“H-hey! HEY! What’s the big idea, bear?!” Govil growled. Even more so as the bear reached under his kilt. The large paw groped his sheath and started stroking it, the touch firm but gentle.

Govil growled and tried to struggle out of the hold, but the bear was larger and stronger. Bertrand’s thick arms and muscles kept the wolf at bay as his paws reached under his kilt. Another one grabbed his balls exposed under it, rubbing them between his fingers in a pleasant way…

“HEY!” Govil growled, the wolf getting angry. The touch was inappropriate! He was about to fight back when his eyes shifted to Elgor.

The rat raised the crystal once more. The blue light shone again right at Govil’s eyes. It was blinding. For a split second, his vision was filled with it, then it was gone.

Govil relaxed. The bear, now with more freedom as the wolf stopped struggling, continued to embrace him, but now his large paws could focus on properly massaging his balls and stroking his sheath to coax the wolf’s growing member out properly.

“What are you complaining about, rebel wolf?” Elgor said with a chuckle. “Your number two is here to make sure to serve you with proper devotion and help you do your job better.”

Govil just nodded mindlessly. He knew Elgor’s words to be true. He knew he had to obey.

“Stop being lazy and get back to work,” Elgor ordered. “The big bear here will treat you well. I’m sure you’ll like it… Or maybe not, when you see the full extent of the rules I’ve given him.”

The rat laughed out loud. Like someone had told him the funniest joke.

Govil didn’t get it. The wolf, however, grunted as he turned around to get back to work.

He squirmed to reach the next soldier with the bear still hugging him from behind. Bertrand followed him, those large paws never stopping to grope and feel his body. They seemed most interested in what was between his legs, however.

As Govil started to polish the sword of the next soldier in line, he found his job to be more challenging.

The bear’s large paws gripped the kneeling wolf’s member. It stood fully hard from its sheath, coaxed out by the bear stroking him with a gentle hand. His kilt, which barely covered anything before, was even more useless as Govil’s erection kept it raised to keep the werewolf’s red cock on full display.

Even Govil’s knot started growing, the thick bulb at the base growing thicker as the wolf’s pleasure rose from the treatment he was getting.

When Govil had reached full mast, Bertrand’s attention seemed to shift. Though Govil made an effort to make sure that his tongue and muzzle were properly polishing the sword in front of him, the bear continued to feel and stimulate him.

Govil knew that his duty took precedence over everything, however, and it wasn’t his place to question why his Commander wished for his new second-hand to aid him in such a manner. The two of them were fulfilling their duties in the army, Govil knew, and the werewolf had always been passionate about doing things right.

He was going to, no matter what it took.

The werewolf soldier in front of him started growling in a more bestial manner. A clawed hand came to grip his muzzle and hold it closed around the sword in front of it so that the werewolf could start thrusting his sword in and out of his kneeling captain’s muzzle. As always, the werewolf seemed eager to shove his pommel into the warm muzzle polishing his steel, but I wouldn’t fit. It couldn’t fit.

For Govil, however, things grew more and more intense. Enduring the soldier’s sword grinding against his tongue was one thing, but the werewolf’s eyes went wide when he felt a different type of sword, bigger and thicker than any he had polished, grinding against his rear.

It lifted his kilt, exposing his ass, as Govil felt Bertrand grab hold of his tail to force him to get on all fours in front of his soldier. Govil struggled to keep up with the sword polishing as he felt the bear’s sword- actually, no, Govil remembered that the bear bloodline was fond of hammers.

Govil felt Bertrand’s large hammer grinding against his rear. Leaking and smearing his fur and tail with fluids. Even as he did so, the large, growling bear reached around and grabbed Govil’s member again.

With more bestial passion, the bear started stroking it. The pleasure of it had Govil’s shutting his eyes hard. The werewolf in front of him howled as he thrust his sword deep within his muzzle to start filling his throat.

The intensity of it all, especially the bear’s paw in the way it gripped his member, the way it squeezed around his knot, had Govil letting out a muffled whine around the sword plunged into his muzzle. He felt his own pleasure start to rise, a bestial instinct coming from within him that made him hump against the bear’s hand stroking his member.

His humping made his ass grind harder against the bear’s hammer. It leaked even more. Govil’s tongue slathered the sword still throbbing the rest of its release inside his muzzle.

And just when Govil felt his own release impending, coming so close…

The bear’s paw let go of his member entirely.

Govil whined. The werewolf in front of him used his clawed hand to violently pull his sword out of his muzzle, as it throbbed spent, satisfied, and fully polished.

Govil saw the bits of extra fluid leaking from the sword’s tip and whined as he moved up to lick it and polish the sword properly. His own member leaked just as much, if not more, tethering at the edge of the same relief he had just given, but the bear’s cursed paw didn’t return to finish the job.

Instead, Bertrand just ground his hammer against the wolf’s rear harder. The bear himself ‘assisted’ Govil by grabbing the wolf by his scruff and pretty much dragging him to the next werewolf in line. The brand-new sword was as eager as the last one.

Govil started to dutifully lick it, tasting a new yet familiar musk of the new soldier as he slathered it with his spit before taking it into his maw for the proper polishing. Doing that to his soldiers, however, only fueled his own desires even more.

Govil considered reaching down for his member and finishing the job for a split second, but as soon as he did, the werewolf on all fours knew that that possibility was completely out of the question. It would be improper and outside of his duties to ever touch himself like this, here or anywhere else. An unthinkable act of utmost treason. No, he needed Bertrand if he wanted it, Govil somehow knew, and when he felt the bear’s hand wrapping around his member once more, Govil went as far as smiling while polishing the sword he was working on.

This time, the bear took no time at all to get the wolf’s member to the edge of the bliss he sought. Just like before, however, as soon as he got close, the bear let go, focusing instead on grinding his own hammer against Govil’s rear. Govil realized that when Bertrand stopped working on his member, the bear moved on to stroking his own, all while grinding it against the wolf’s teasing, inviting rear. Bertrand seemed as eager to get to the final pleasure as he was, but for some reason, the bear couldn’t finish either of them.

Whenever either of them got close, the growling bear’s paw would move on to the other one, never giving either any true satisfaction while they worked on their duty.

Though Govil had polished all of his soldier’s swords every single morning since his unit had been incorporated into Zenoira, as he had been ordered to do by Elgor, that felt like the longest, most arduous sword polishing of them all. By the time Govil got to the thirty-eighth soldier of his unit, the last one, and finished polishing his sword, Govil felt a little bloated and full as he always did, but that was nothing compared to how desperate Govil felt in other departments.

The snow had been marked with puddles and strands of pre-cum he had leaked from between his legs as he had moved over the line of soldiers. His member throbbed, his knot fully engorged, and every instinct the werewolf had begged him to shove it inside something tight to enjoy the ultimate pleasure of breeding. Govil’s balls felt full and engorged, eager to spill his seed, and the bear’s paw had had to stop earlier and earlier as the wolf grew more desperate.

When the final sword was finally polished, Govil thought something would change. And it did.

Bertrand, who looked just as desperate as he was, was acting more feral. The large bear had strands of drool falling down on the wolf’s back and the movements of his hammer grinding against the wolf’s rear had grown more and more desperate, to the point where sometimes Bertrand would press his large hammer’s head against the wolf’s entrance in a way that looked like he was using every ounce of his being to stop himself from plunging it in.

Govil grew instinctually worried. Something in the back of the wolf’s mind screamed many things at him, but Govil had been ignoring that faint part of his mind for many days now. He knew what was right, he knew what he should do, and now he somehow knew that what was about to happen was inevitable.

With their duty done, Govil whined as Bertrand’s large arms enveloped him, pulling him back as the bear let himself fall back down on the ground on his back. The large paw grabbed Govil’s scruff, bringing the wolf up effortlessly until Govil was standing with his rear right above the bear’s oversized hammer, which stood up in full rigidity, covered in its own leaked fluids.

Govil noticed for the first time that Elgor was still there, grinning. Watching everything. The rat laughed again.

“Time to learn how to take proper care of the new bear hammers that are joining your unit within Zenoira, wolf.”

The rat brought the crystal up. A bright blue light shone…

Govil opened a wide grin as he felt Bertrand’s hammer pounding his insides. The large bear held him at the hip, thrusting into him from below as Govil was forced to stay there, sitting with the bear’s hammer completely impaling his rear.

The pounding of that hammer had Govil’s needy member leaking on Bertrand’s large belly, throbbing with need, but untouched. It wasn’t meant to be touched no matter how much he needed it.

Govil’s tongue hung down from his muzzle, the wolf reveling in the mind-numbing mix of pleasure and intensity from the way the bear’s oversized tool pounded at him from below. Bertrand growled with bestial fury fit for a Bestral below him as the bear pounded his hammer against his captain’s prostate with gusto.

From the corner of Govil’s view, he saw more flashes of blue light. Some of his soldiers, the first one whose swords he had polished, surrounded them. Govil was happy to see them polishing their own swords with their paws, pointing them at him, and as the bear continued to force him to ride him, he was even more satisfied to see and feel the positive results of his soldiers’ sword polishing coating his fur as they came closer to him to finish on his shiny fur coat.

It didn’t take long for Bertrand’s thrusts to grow even more violent. The bear’s large hammer pounded the wolf with such violence that Govil couldn’t help but moan. His member throbbed, so very eager and needy to spill its own fluids, but no touch from anybody came to it. None at all.

Even as Bertrand roared from below him, thrusting his hips up and going deep within Govil as he shot his seed. The bear’s expression looked wild as pleasure and relief came across his face after such a long time of being teased.

Govil felt even more full. The werewolf whined in overwhelming need as he felt pleasure racking over his body, but nothing bringing him to the peak he needed. The werewolf knew it wasn’t meant to be. As Captain, it was his duty to make sure his soldiers’ equipment was taken care of. That their morale was high. It was his duty. His duty…

The bear beneath him relaxed. The hammer still throbbed, each small throb pounding against the wolf’s sensitive spots and making him squirm with need.

After a while, Bertrand grabbed his scruff. The bear sat down and nonchalantly pulled the wolf off his hammer.

When Bertrand forced the werewolf’s head down towards his crotch, Govil knew he had one weapon left to polish and clean, and he did his duty as he should.

Even as his own member throbbed between his legs, still eager and unsatisfied. Govil licked up the remaining fluids from the bear’s hammer down to everything that had leaked down to the large bear’s thick balls.

“Good job, captain,” his Commander’s voice came from the side, followed by a new laugh. “You’re learning your routine well. Aren’t you glad you have a new set of hands to improve your daily sword polishing? I hope you’ll enjoy doing that every single day.”

Elgor laughed harder. “You should have listened to that bear and learned your place. If you hadn’t been so eager to spark your little rebellion, maybe you’d be safe and sound in your pathetic village now instead of, well…”

Govil just glanced at Elgor while he finished lapping up the cum from the bear’s balls, making sure his tongue enveloped them well to clear it properly. He whined in need, however.

“Did you want something else?” Elgor asked in a mocking tone. “A Captain has to keep his soldiers motivated and a Commander has to keep his captains motivated. Maybe once your unit has struck down the next rebelling army you’ll get what you want. Maybe.”

Elgor’s armored boot came to touch Govil’s member hanging between his legs. The wolf groaned in pleasure from that small touch alone.

“Until then, this routine should be enough to build up your… ‘motivation’ to serve Zenoira well.”

The rat’s boot gave the wolf’s leaking member one last touch, and then Elgor brought up the Blue. The rat fiddled with his belt, lowering his pants just enough to show his own sword.

“Although, in fact, I think that since you’re doing your duty so well, you deserve a special treat from your Commander as well. Another way you can serve, mutt…”

The crystal was raised up, the bright blue light shone bright…

And Govil smiled. His own balls still ached, but they were forgotten as he crawled forward to have the honor of polishing the Commander’s sword itself.