FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

Coach, as tanuki wrestlers the world over invariably called their stable's manager, waved Axel over one day, after morning practice. The third-year wrestler was in his prime, a head taller and significantly wider than the old man. A brief wave of vertigo washed over Coach; in his time he had been so grand, so powerful. No longer. He bit down on his nicotine lozenge and silently willed the other juniors to quit dawdling and hit the lockers.

"Coach!" Axel grunted, respectfully.

"Hey, kid." Coach looked him once over, as if he could sense whatever had gone awry with his wrestler. But Axel was like the rest of the third-year's first string. He had a glossy sheen on his chestnut coat, which went tawny across the chest. Bands of muscle popped even through his thick fur and powerlifter's build. The bright singlet and the domino mask of dark fur around his eyes gave Axel the appearance of one of those superheroes that Coach's grandson loved.

"Everything alright, Coach?"

"That girlfriend of yours, how long have you two been at it?" He wasn't in the mood for talking around the subject.

"Girlfriend?" Axel wiped the sweat from his eyes with the crook of either hand, each of which were like an ogre's. "Ain't got one, sir."

Traditional wrestlers were supposed to live like monks, but times had changed. In front of his guys, Coach wanted to project a hard-assed, traditional image, but at the same time he knew it was an act. He never much cared for his Coach's style of training, and had vowed a long time ago to follow a different path. And God knew there were large dogs overseas who were just as talented at the sport as a Grandmaster from a main family with ten years of champion belts and balls big enough for tennis.

"It's fine, no need to fib. I've seen you two necking in the garden under the full moon. Good of you to keep it out of the stable; it'd be chaos if everyone tried to sneak their girls in at once."

Axel blushed and the pink parts of his ears went red.

"So out with it: how long y'all been going steady?"

"... A year, about. We met at the winter tourney."

Coach punched him square in the shoulder, in a way that couldn't possibly have hurt Axel. He'd taken his favorites to an off-season match in the capital for just that purpose, blowing off steam... but that was well over a year now. Closer to two, now, for the leaves were turning.

"You sly old dog. But yeah, hmm. Listen, Axel, I want you to see a doc. A real one, a specialist in... wrestling problems. He's an old friend of mine, so you do what he tells you."

The large tanuki shrank into himself, though it made him no less imposing.

"Something wrong with me?" He asked.

"This business, it's tough on you. There's always a risk pulling a muscle or straining something--and that includes whatever's going on in those shorts of yours, y'know." He cracked his neck in the direction of the wrestler's crotch, implying the hefty bulge beneath it. They were tanuki men; there was little point in hiding it.

"Feels fine to me, Coach." Axel picked at the fabric that rode up during practice, likely out of nerves. "Nothing itching or burning, I would've told you about that."

Coach shook his head.

"No, I don't mean jock itch. You might not have felt it happen when you're going all out in a match. Believe me, this ain't something you want to put off. And anyway, the stable will pay for it."

"If that's what you want, Coach."

Coach nodded and swung his arm halfway around the much larger wrestler, leading him out of the ring.

"That's a good lad. And don't you worry," he said, "I trust that fox to look after my own pair, y'know."

* * *

The exam room was uncomfortably warm, that was the first thing he noticed. The stable's nutritionist kept her office air conditioned, but this office already had their heater running for the dog days of summer. Just sitting, wearing barely anything, he could swear he would break out in a sweat at any moment. His street clothes lie in a heap on a beaten up folding chair; he'd hoisted himself up on the edge of the exam table, which he'd found ready for him and covered in thin tissue paper.

Coach had said this doctor saw tanuki wrestlers, and to prove this the intake nurse was ready with a gown that actually fit him. The large, thin cloth was a tent for him--swimming in clothes was a new experience--but it was comfy and soft. He needed some comfort, especially after the awkward conversation with Coach. To make matters worse, all his nervous energy had nowhere to go, for they'd told him not to rub one out until his appointment. If his sack didn't ache before, it sure did now.

The door opened, and Axel whipped his hands out his gown. He wasn't quite sure what to do with them, watching a small fox enter the room. In the end, he decided to sit on them.

"... Axel, right?" The fox was a doctor out of the movies, wearing a crisp lab coat over a t-shirt and knit shorts. No doubt the heat got to him, too. "I see old Deckard still knows how to pick them; you're built like a tank."

Hearing the doctor use Coach's real name put some steel in Axel's spine. He could perceive that the fox was doing him--no, him and Coach--a favor. Therefore, he deserved the same respect.

"Yes, sir. I'm Axel Hase."

"Sorry to keep you waiting." The doctor said. "You can call me Becker."

The fox placed his clipboard on the counter by the sink, along with some other trinkets from his large coat pockets. From a box on the wall, he put on a pair of pale, latex gloves--canine types, with nubby resevoirs at the fingertips for each claw.

"This is your first time, is it?" Becker said. "We'll start with the easy stuff, blood pressure and heart rate. I imagine you're probably nervous--first timers usually are--but let me tell you, there's nothing to be worried about. You're in good hands. Now lie down for me, would you?"

Axel nodded and rolled to his side, scooting himself so he could lie flat on the table. Tissue paper crackled under him, bunching up under his back. Becker wasted no time, taking his vitals and prodding gently at a few places on his neck and chest. The doctor's hands were warm, and the latex didn't snag his fur the way some brands did.

"I'm going to take this down a little, okay?"

Axel helped him peel the gown off and tuck it under his belly.

"What year are you?" Becker asked as he evaluated the tanuki's wide chest, having to lean into him to reach the far side.

"Third year," Axel said, and added, "first string," though the doctor hadn't asked.

"You look like a first stringer. No injuries? No serious illnesses?"

"Nothing serious."

Becker stopped his prodding and regarded his patient for a long moment. "You wrestlers don't think any injury is serious," he sighed. "You would fight on a broken leg, I bet."

"Of course I would!" Axel said, more forcefully than intended. "... if the stable's honor depended on it, I mean."

The doctor's eyes were unreadable arcs as he continued his exam. It ended past the ridge of his belly, where he paused and grinned at Axel.

"You're in great shape, heart and lungs sound fine. Feel up to the lower half?"

Axel lifted his upper body off the table slightly, feeling rather than seeing the doctor's paw slide lower.

"Oh, uh. I guess... that's what Coach sent me here for, right?"

"That's right. Lay back down and take some deep breaths. Feel free to close your eyes if you'd like."

Axel did as he felt the bunched-up gown slip down his thighs and then off entirely, landing with a rustle somewhere to his left near his clothes. With the room as it was, losing the gown was a relief. He tried not to imagine the fox looking at his body, at his sheath. He felt so strange in front of the older fox. His stablemates and him, they swam and bathed together all the time, and nobody even noticed. But they were all his age, and all of them were tanuki, and they were all naked together. Becker looked... well, it was hard to tell age with foxes. Older than Coach, probably. And he was, of course, completely clothed.

"No sign of hernia, good. Don't be startled, but I'm going to touch your sheath and check it for infection." Becker's voice was soft and even; Axel grunted his consent easily.

The room seemed to shrink, closing in around them. It was the doctor's hands, so small and light--with his eyes closed, they could have been someone's hands, someone whose hands had the right to touch him there. He winced as they pressed down and in all around the base of his sheath. Then they grasped his sack, though it was too much to be contained even by both of those hands together. The poor thing was full to the brim after a whole week of frustration. He couldn't recall the last time he'd gone a day, let alone a week--

"I said, do you have trouble keeping an erection?" Now two fingers pried him open at the sheath tip, and Axel shuffled away from them. He crunched his core and pushed himself up half-way, glaring daggers.

"Sorry, did I hurt you?" Becker spoke with perhaps a tinge of worry. He held his hands out, fingers spread innocently.

"... No," Axel admitted. He slumped back down and shut up his eyes tighter, bracing himself for an invasion that didn't arrive.

"And what about your erection?" Becker insisted. "No trouble coming unsheathed, or going back in, whether or not you tie?"

"It works just fine," Axel said, bluntly. The shock loosened his sense of respect for the doctor, and his deference to him faded. "What are you looking for, anyway?"

"Deckard referred you to me because he's concerned with your fertility," the doctor explained. He wobbled the right ball in its socket for a while, pinching it lightly up and down, and then did the same to the other. "There are many possible issues this exam can rule out--genetic disorders, anatomical problems, or more likely, some physical trauma--and then the hormones we can check when we do your blood work."

"Coach thinks I can't...?" Axel gestured limply toward where the doctor was working, unwilling to finish the sentence. "But I do, just fine."

"As I said, there are many things that can go wrong with this; it's a complicated piece of engineering, you know." The doctor lectured as he continued to palpate his scrotum. "Some men seem to value fertility quite highly. My job is to ensure that everything is at peak performance, just like Deckard does with the rest of you. Understand?"

"I guess."

The probing fingers stretched the sensitive ring of his sheath, and he heard a click--a flashlight forcing some light into an otherwise dark and hidden place. It clicked off. He felt the first bead of sweat roll down his jaw. His heart pounded in his ears and he panted, trying anything to cool down a little. Then, before anything else happened, the work was done, leaving only a lingering soreness in his sheath tip. Axel blinked and saw Becker wiping his gloved hands on a tissue.

"You're doing great," he said, "I don't have anything to be concerned about, but I'd like to do an ultrasound to be completely sure. Some things will show up on it long before I can feel them."

From the corner of the room, Becker rolled a cart beside him full of equipment, electrical cables and monitors. Axel had seen it before only as a pile of junk and gawked as the doctor plugged things in. It made a whirring noise and a collection of beeps as it started up.

"Um," Axel said, "I don't know if I want that thing near my..."

"You can say testicles, Axel. You're an adult and I'm a medical doctor; my license's right on that wall over there." Becker nodded to the thing, framed like a picture. "Hell, you can even call them balls if you want. You don't have to worry about offending me with a little coarse language."

"... Okay. Can you tell me what it does--what it will do to my nuts?"

"It's completely harmless, I promise. Here, hold this for a second while I finish setting it up."

The doctor handed him a wide oval made of plastic, shaped to be held by someone with smaller hands than his. It reminded him of a computer mouse without buttons, like they were when he was younger.

"That's a speaker and microphone for ultrasound, basically--just sound waves of very high frequency. They pass through flesh easily, without damage, and the computer can hear the echo and make an image, just like--"

"Like bats!" Axel said. He held the thing up to an ear, wondering if it was on.

"Yes, like bats. May I have it back? Thanks. Now open your legs a little wider, I need to prep the area."

Becker unfolded a blue, papery cloth about the size of a hankerchief, with a slit running down the middle, and laid it over Axel's midsection. He eased Axel's scrotum and sheath through the slit, and flattened the barrier against his fur.

"A little wider, please. Good. Now stay still."

Axel heard the soft squirting noise before Becker smeared the exposed fur of his nuts with a thick, lukewarm gel. He gasped, though it didn't startle him; the doctor rubbed it in with some force, pinning the paper shield to Axel's belly with the clean hand that held the speaker.

"If I had found something in the physical exam," Becker added, "I'd have had you come back next week so we could shave all this fur and get a clean image. Fur scatters sound, you see, but with the gel I can plaster it down and get good enough imagery to make a determination."

Axel wasn't following the doctor's explanation. The vigorous massage of his sack was getting to him, it was always a sensitive place to touch a tanuki. The thrumming awareness of being naked in front of a stranger, despite the flimsy paper shield that after all did nothing to cover him up... it was filling out his sheath. He forced himself not to look, that always made it worse. In vain he tried to multiply seventeen by thirty-two. Becker tapped a few buttons, flicked a switch, and brought the device to bear.

"You can watch, if you want," Becker offered. "Some men find it interesting. Educational, even. You wouldn't believe the ridiculous things men believe about their own manhood."

It was pressed firmly into Axel's scrotum, much harder than he would have expected. He felt his nuts shudder back and forth, trying to flee whatever was invading their cramped but spacious quarters. Axel clenched his jaw and felt a tear form in the corner of his eye. It was worse than when the nurse pressed his tongue down with a popsicle stick, looking for God knows what down his throat.

"Oh, hmm." Becker coughed. "Don't be alarmed. I should have warned you, since it's your first exam, but I plum forgot. It usually comes up at some point during the exam--in fact, it's a point of concern if it doesn't, so in that respect it's a good thing."

Axel pried open an eye and stared uncomprehending at the fox, who smiled warmly back. With a sickening twitch, his sheath tip yielded. Out spilled an inch or two of warm, slick, canine penis. He couldn't see it around his stomach--wouldn't see it even if it were fully out and tied. But he knew it was a vivid dark pink right now, going swiftly red, a bright contrast to his light tan undercarriage. A groan escaped him as he lay humiliated beyond words.

The prodding continued, for the doctor seemed not to notice the involuntary lurching he caused with every movement. He was too absorbed in the static flickering on his display. It didn't look like much of anything to Axel's untrained eye. With a satisfied hum, Becker plucked a tissue from a box on the cart and wiped the receiver clean, muttering to himself as he proceeded to sanitize it with an alcohol wipe.

"... Are we done?" Axel asked, his voice pitching up. For all he cared right now, his stupid balls could fall off.

"Hang on, not quite yet."

Becker shut down the machine and packed it away. He took a couple more tissues. Frowning, he glanced at Axel's midsection, and took a few more. With little fanfare and the back of his hand he nudged Axel's semi-erection to an upright position and wiped off the thick gel that fairly coated his now tender scrotum. There was no way Becker could have missed the frantic throbbing as Axel's poor arousal, in a state of much confusion, desperately sought anything with which to couple.

"By the way, how long do you stay tied, usually?" Becker's deadpan had a clinical detachment, as if he had asked how long until the next train.

"I dunno." Axel hissed. "It... depends."

"No, I don't mean when you use your hand," Becker said. "I thought Deckard said you weren't a virgin."

"How would Coach know--!"

Axel made to sit up again, but of course Becker had him by the balls.

"Calm down, please. The question is important. Hmm, you're pretty athletic, maybe it takes you a half hour or so?"

"... No."

"Closer to twenty or forty minutes?" The fox' silver-tipped ears sagged.

"... Fifteen, more or less." He lied. He could get hard, fuck, knot, and untie all in the space of a security guard's smoke break. What would otherwise be an embarrassment (among a certain, canine brand of toxic masculinity) was for him the gateway to a very enjoyable pastime. Privately, he pitied the long-knotters who had to painfully bend the thin shaft behind their knot in order to snake a raging boner in their pants when caught out. That kind of thing happened pretty often in a stable dorm full of hot-blooded tanuki.

"Hmm," was all the doctor said. He peeled off the flimsy paper cloth, which was well stuck to his fur by now, and balled it up, stains and all, before tossing it in the bin. "Alright, flip over please. Like you're on the offense going into par terre."

Axel lumbered over on all fours, feeling more than a little self-conscious when his cock smacked his belly with an audible slickness. All but the knot stuck out, and now it wouldn't go back in, not for love or money. The fox patted him above the tailbone gently, getting his attention.

"This is the last invasive procedure today, I promise--I can tell you're not too fond of being rustled around down here, and I'm sorry about that. But it's a necessary evil. All of us men sit on a time bomb, and sometimes it goes off sooner rather than later. The easiest way to know in advance is to feel it quite directly, which is what I'm about to do. Now bear down for me, please, and do try to open up for me."

Resigned to his fate, with a certain grim irony, Axel did his best. The tepid, lubricated finger crawled slowly and steadily past what Axel thought of as "the first gate." He was glad it was a short, thin little finger--his own attempts had been frustrated by a lack of flexibility and his own sausage-like appendages. Maybe it was for the best that someone with medical training was rooting around in his nethers... just in case whatever it was Coach saw in him was related to that thing up there, somehow.

"Ah, there you are," Becker said.

And it was; dull sparks burst into life inside him. There was no denying it anymore, he was painfully aroused and his prostate might actually explode if it were perturbed further.

"Doctor..." He trailed off.

"Sorry, just another second--"

"No, it's not--my knot, it's still... in."

"Oh!" Becker removed his finger all at once, taken off-guard by the sudden confession. "Oh, of course."

Axel's cheeks burned in submission. There was no delicate way of putting it. His arms and thighs were already quivering with exertion, he didn't his balance to reach down and loose his own knot. After a halting moment, Becker freed it with a single firm tug.

"... Thanks." Axel sighed relief.

"Don't mention it." Becker's voice was suddenly tense. "I'm going to finish my exam, okay?"

"I'm ready," Axel said.

Back in, with his belly full of fireflies, Axel felt keenly the pulsing of his knot. He took solace in the fact that at least he would not cum like this, not even with the doctor grinding his chestnut into flour. That indignity, his traitorous body would spare him; he'd tried to cum hands-free enough to know it was a dead end. No matter how much he wanted to roll over, clench his knot in his meaty fist and spray a week's worth of cum over his gut and maybe, just maybe, in his own muzzle, that was also completely out of the question. He'd wait until the doctor left and then... what, jerk off into the sink? That seemed gross, somehow. No, he'd steal a wad of tissues and leave it in the bin with the rest of this exam's goop.

"There you go, Axel." The doctor patted his ass--like Coach did, when he was feeling proud of him--and took off his gloves with a snap. "Thanks for being such a good sport; you did well for your first time."

When he'd rolled over, the doctor had his back to him and was scribbling notes in his file. His thinning tail tip flickered where it peeked out from under his white coat. Axel sat on the edge of the exam table, painfully aware of his still very present and noticeably dripping cock.

"So, I'm fine then?" Axel asked.

"Everything checks out," Becker said, distracted. "Your tie relaxation time is a little quick, but... well, between you and me that doesn't affect mating nearly as much as the wolves would have you believe. After you're done here, the nurse will take your blood and we'll get back to you with your hormone panel. If that doesn't show anything, well, maybe ask your girlfriend to make an appointment--not with me, obviously, but with our office's female counterpart."

"Oh, uh--girlfriend?"

Becker looked up from his paperwork and regarded him carefully, the clipboard wedged against his ribs.

"Deckard told me you'd been sleeping with a female tanuki for at least a year with no obvious result. Are you using contraceptives, perhaps? He didn't seem to think it was likely, but our generation tends to be more naive about such things."

Axel swallowed and averted his gaze, but this meant staring into the eye of his own rampant cock, which rudely dribbled on the ruined paper that still lay between him and the vinyl cushion. The old fox was a doctor, right? That had to mean something.

"Do you have to--is Coach going to know everything?"

"Huh?" Becker was genuinely shocked. "No, to the contrary! I will only tell him whether you're fit to wrestle, which you obviously are--anything else is your discretion. He may be my friend, but you're my patient and that comes first."

"Then, uh. Coach must not have gotten a good look at him. Peter, he's thin for a tanuki. And, uh, he wears skirts sometimes because they make it quicker for us to... you know..."

Becker's eyes widened briefly--they twinkled amber and gold--and then he barked a soft laugh behind the back of his paw.

"Well, that explains that medical mystery! Oh, don't worry, my lips are sealed--but I'll tell you now he wouldn't care one way or the other. Though don't ask me how I know that."

The doctor with a sleight of hand flicked the small jar from where he'd left it on the counter and juggled it between his paws, clearly pleased with himself.

"Still, that doesn't get you off the hook. Here, catch!"

He lobbed it at the hunched tanuki, who only managed to grab it by hugging it to his chest.

"You can drop that off with the nurse who takes your blood--and there's a basket of condoms by the door, swipe a few of them for my sake, will you? And if you have any questions, or any problems show up in the future, just tell the old man you need to see me again. You don't need to tell him why."

Axel smiled broadly, his cheeks puffing. "Thanks, doctor."

"You're welcome. You do know what to do with that, right? Try to get as much in it as you can, and for God's sake clean after yourself like a civilized person. No janitor gets paid enough to deal with that kind of biohazard."

And with that, and a final nod, the doctor left Axel to his own devices. He was all too ready to use them.