FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

I crumpled the resume in my hand and pegged it at a nearby bin, this shit always happened. I growled as the paper bounced off the rim and fell to the floor. I stamped away from another coy possibility, I was no good at this. 19 years old and I'd never held a job for more than a week, there was something clearly wrong with how I presented myself. I was a big guy, a bit tubby but not unexpected for a boar. Though the youth showed on my face, I still towered over most and I swore that put employers on edge.

It just did not make sense to me how everyone else seemed to be able to wear a smile and be a worker. I didn't care if my tusks ruined a customer service smile, I could flip a damn patty and scan barcodes all the same. I could be crude, but I wasn't going to apologise for having a personality. I'd applied to every shitty video rental, every supermarket, every greasy burger joint in town. Some even three times over.

I'd just stepped out of another interview. My ears burned. They offered me the courtesy of letting me know I wouldn't hear from them. I dug my hands in the pockets of my shorts and wore a scowl as I walked home. This hole of a rural town had fuck all for me.

I was staring down the barrel of checking out groceries for the next decade or two before, I dunno. I kinda figured that'd be all I could handle, if even. I wouldn't live 'til 50, life seemed better that way.

I baked in the sun on the walk home, the heat only served to further my irritation. I swore and muttered the whole way home, but as I neared my father's house I fell silent. The quiet extended to my mind, I tried to shush my thoughts in case, I dunno. In case he found out the sort of shit I thought about.

I was tense as I stalked across the dirt patch that made up our front 'yard'. Dad's pickup was in the drive. I just did not want to deal with what was about to happen.

Anxiety dug its claws in me as I lifted the key from my pocket. There was a distinctive click as I turned it, metal on metal in the mechanism that resounded through the entire house. It wasn't a loud sound, but it carried and I held my breath as I stormed in, stamped through a short corridor and slammed the door to my room.

I threw myself on my bed, utterly exhausted and sighed as the cacophony I kicked up escalated in thudding footfalls that came closer and closer. My father threw my door open with a crash that rivalled the force I slammed it with. We were of a height, but he was built like a brick shithouse. His leathery brown flesh was baked by a lifetime toiling in the sun and the bristles of his mane were tinged with grey. He had a noticeable crack on his left tusk, which he tried to hide with a brass ring.

“Davie." His voice was ripe with long-standing anger.

“Fuck off."

“Damn it boy." He growled and crossed his arms. “Just take a fucking apprenticeship."

I glared at him. “I'm not gunna learn shit I hate for a job I'll hate."

“Well you ain't fucking working now anyways," my father muttered. He took another look at me, shook his head and walked away. We'd been treading the same ground for months and another shouting match would get us nowhere. He'd been obsessed with me working ever since his wife left him.

Before I'd even finished highschool he was trying to shack me up with painters, with bricklayers, with menial freaks like him who faked their way to being professionals by making a job out of being less interesting than the average person. I wasn't going to be a tradie, I couldn't stand the repetition of chores.

Anger festered within me. I wanted to slap him. And then he'd get furious, or sad, or both. I wasn't normally violent, but I was in a mood and the grinding, endless judgement he'd cast on me ever since I managed to stumble out the other side of highschool shamed me to no end. All he could think about now was my unemployment and nothing incensed me more.

I wanted to throttle him until his fingers went limp against my wrists and he slumped in my grasp.

That image blazed in my mind for mere seconds before the shame engulfed me. Guilt pierced my heart. I shouldn't think like that. I gnashed my jaw and snarled as I mashed my face into my pillow as I seethed through regret and cast sharper judgement on myself than Dad ever could.

I wound up staring at my wall, pillow hugged against my chest and feeling numb. There was something so utterly wrong with me that they'd lock me up if they knew the sort of shit I thought about. I lay there, paralysed by the aftershocks of the horrors of my own mind.

I wanted to sleep but I was reeling. My thoughts wound about a loop of anguish, I felt shamed by my position in the world and horribly guilty over the way I'd adapted. Pangs of hunger were the only thing that called me back to my body, but still I waited for the TV to turn off and the house to go silent before I crept out of my room.

I tried not to make a sound, I felt like a thief as I made a peanut butter and honey sandwich. I was halfway through cramming it in my face when a lightswitch clicked behind me. My ears pulled back, the back of my neck prickled.

“Davie, I don't want to kick you out but what am I gunna do?" My father walked next to me and leant against the kitchen counter. I shrugged and frowned. The taste of sweetened peanut butter turned to ash in my mouth. I dropped my food, sighed and bowed my head to whatever he was about to say. “I feel like you gotta work shit out for yourself, cuz what I'm doing ain't working."

I sighed again. “Mhm."

“Should you go back to the doc?" That question brought the anxiety surging back.

“There's nothing wrong with me." I laced the words with accusation. “Just stressed out, this town sucks shit."

He nodded like he understood. “Tell you what. Take a few days, destress. Relax. After that, keep looking for work but every time you do another interview, you gotta promise me you'll also apply for an apprenticeship. Even if you end up doing something else, a trade will be good for you."

My heart fell. I felt too tired, too shamed, too dosed up on failure to try and argue my point. I wouldn't be that pathetic. “Fine."

He clapped me on the back. “Atta boy."

I shook away from the contact. “Don't touch me like that." I put more force into my words than I intended. It took focus to unclench my fist.

He raised his hand and took a step back, shock on his face. “Why's that?"

I blinked. What a fucking question. Was I meant to tell him that when he touched me I wanted to slam a fist between his tusks? Hearing his voice was grating enough as is but this meek paternal affection felt like an insult after all the anger and shame he'd stuffed into me over the months I'd failed to find work.

Even the most normal of skin-to-skin contact evoked surging fantasies of violence that made my belly ache from disgust. I stood beside him still, my thoughts were coloured red and I feared he could tell exactly the things I was thinking. I met his eyes, not to show him respect but to make sure he was looking at me and not the knife in reach of my hand.

I grunted. He knew what that meant. He pursed his lips, a peculiar look rose on his face which only lasted for an instant but I could tell what he was thinking. He thought there was something wrong with me, but he couldn't prove it. A double shot of guilt and anxiety slammed into my heart.

“Night," I muttered and stalked off.

He sighed. “Good night Davie." From behind me, I heard him lift my plate from the counter as he started to clean what I'd left behind.

The short walk back to my room was enough time for me to batter my own thoughts without abandon. He made me feel like an aberration but he was only trying to help. Did that not make me even more of a monster?

Thoughts raced and boiled over as I kicked the door to my room shut. I heaved in a deep breath as I clenched and unclenched my fists. I didn't want to hurt him but it was only a matter of time until I did again. Four times I'd lashed out at him. When I was twelve I stamped on his hand because he didn't let me see a friend, I broke his finger.

When I was fifteen I threw a plate at his face after he shouted at me because I hadn't done an assignment, it chipped his tusk.

Barely a week later, as part of the same argument I tried to headbutt him like I'd seen in a movie but he moved and my tusk gouged his shoulder. He still carried the scar.

But two months ago, at the peak of our frustrations with each other I punched him in the face. Right above his eye. He was a patient man but patience does not save a man from retaliating when punched in the face. I wasn't about to back down either, I wanted to fight him.

He'd slapped me so hard I needed a moment to make sure my head was still connected to my shoulders. I remember looking up at him, he had a hand over the eye I'd just punched. He was beside himself. He scooped me off of the floor, stood me up and triple checked to make sure I wasn't concussed. He told me he was going to take me to a doctor because I was thoroughly rattled, but I wouldn't let him. He seemed relieved.

He told me he was sorry and I hugged him, the only time in recent history I'd been able to stomach touching him. We shared a laugh about it, and a few more over the following weeks as our bruises came in. We didn't leave the house much until the marks on our bodies had faded, in a small town gossip like that would travel.

But those few weeks were maybe the best our relationship had ever been, then we healed and never spoke of it again. Almost immediately, we were back at each other's throats.

I think I needed that. If I did or thought something bad I deserved to be punished in turn – needed to be punished in turn or I would spin out. I relished the memory of getting slapped. I remember a flash of blinding pain and then the world around me shifted without the awareness of how it happened.

I needed that. I needed that so badly, the instant one of my darker thoughts came to mind I didn't need my dad's patience and understanding. I wanted him to beat the shit out of me so the thoughts could leave my head and I could know a short time of peace.

I shuddered. I'd been lying on my bed, lost in circular thoughts. My clock read 2:47am, perfect. I got up to open my wardrobe, I rooted around the back of it for an old sweater. I snuck my hand up the large opening at the base and reached for the plastic bag I'd tied to the coathanger that supported the sweater. In a deft motion I withdrew a magazine and retreated to my bed.

It was well-worn, the cover creased and torn in places but still legible. A nude leopard stood, bent at the waist with a hand reaching back to cup his spotted ass. The tiniest hint of sack was visible between his thighs and he grinned eagerly.

I thumbed through it, I knew what I was looking for and it wasn't images I'd blasted to a hundred times. The back of the porno held a few pages of stories from readers and adverts - among them was a hookup line.

I punched in the number on the landline I had in my room and was deathly silent as it dialled. I was keenly attuned to the briefly audible hitch that indicated someone else in the house had picked up a phone, but dad hadn't tried to pry. I was far too experienced at this, I'd been doing it since before I was meant to. The operator answered, I said the name of my town and within moments I was connected to another man who'd been waiting on the line.

“Boar, nineteen. Park." I spoke softly, but loud enough he could hear.

A sharp intake of breath. “Tiger, forty-six. Park's good." He sounded gruff but eager. “Top."

“Switch," I replied.

He snickered. “You're my hole tonight."

“Good."

“Kinks?"

“Do anything to me I don't fucking care." I slipped a hand in my pants and groped myself.

The tiger purred, the low rumble buzzed in the receiver. “Virgin?"

“Nope."

He snorted. “I'm gunna choke you out."

“That all?"

A moment's silence. “This a prank?"

“Nah." I smirked to myself.

“Hah. Be there in ten, meet at the benches."

“Done." I hung up. My cock throbbed in my pants, I hadn't been choked before. I opened my window slowly to avoid the frame scraping loudly. This house had paper-thin walls and my father was a light sleeper.

I climbed outside and spritely tiptoed into the dark. The park wasn't a long walk from here, a fact which brought me much excitement. It was a notorious hookup spot, one I frequented when I was in the mood.

A silhouette was perched on the bench. My heart hammered in my throat as I approached, it was hard to tell if he was even a cat, let alone the tiger I spoke to on the phone. But as I neared, he stood with the careful grace of a predator. His lithe tail swished eagerly behind him.

Closer now, I could see his stripes as nebulous lines through the darkness. I strode right up to him and groped at his crotch.

“Evening." His body stiffened at my touch. “Eager are we?" he asked. I nodded, too focused on feeling out the semi in his jeans. “Not in public." He nudged me by the shoulder towards the forest at the edge of the park.

“What public?" I squeezed him. “Nobody's here." During the day this place would usually have a few people walking and relaxing. “It's like 3am, we could fuck right here and-"

“No." He swatted my hand away. I made a tart sound, turned for the forest and started walking. “Do you do this a lot?" he asked.

“Yeah."

“Guess we all deserve to be young, dumb and horny at some point in our lives," he muttered. “You like it when older men fuck you in the woods?"

“Better when they aren't so hesitant." I didn't give a shit if I pissed him off, I wanted him to maul me.

He scoffed. “Just being sensible."

“Couldn't care less. Tell me to do something, I'll do it."

“Take your pants off then."

I looked him in the eye and let my shorts fall. I had no underwear on, my thick semi poked out from my crotch at an angle. He grinned ear to ear, the white of his teeth gleamed in the moonlight. “Big boy." He reached out to grasp my cock, I exhaled as he worked it.

There was a band of coolness along his finger that warmed within moments of him touching me. I glanced down at his paw to confirm there was a ring on it. “Married?" I asked.

He clicked his tongue.

A grin split my face. “Does she know?" I wanted him to be angry, wanted him to take that out on me.

“Shut up." He shoved me towards the forest. “No more questions."

I carried my shorts over my shoulder and strode with my hips pressed forward, boldly swinging my cock like I owned the park. He wore a slight grimace but as the moonlight vanished under the canopy of the forest I could barely make out any of his features.

He stopped at a random spot a short way in and turned to me.

“You know, it's a shame you're so experienced." He reached for my cock again.

“Yeah?"

“Yeah." He grabbed me by the wrist and guided me to his crotch. “I like showing boys the ropes. Perhaps you could indulge-" There was something skeezy about how he emphasised the word 'boys' that made my skin crawl.

“No." I scowled at him so hard it hurt. Even the suggestion of something like that elicited such a sharp rejection from my mind I nearly sprinted off into the night and left him. Fear wakened anxiety and guilt within me, what exactly was he thinking about? How exactly would he enjoy my body?

He didn't hesitate to drift his hand around my back, I forced myself to breathe at a normal pace. His fluffy paw cupped my cheeks, his claws poked at my ass. He purred eagerly, for a moment I wondered exactly what he was thinking. Then I closed myself off from those thoughts. I didn't care. I wasn't going to back away from the only source of release in my life, even if it disgusted me. Especially if it disgusted me. I wrinkled my nose. I was a foul person, it was only fitting I let myself be dirtied by someone like him.

I heard him start to undress. My ears twitched as he unzipped his fly. I threw myself at his feet and nuzzled his crotch. He gasped and purred as he ground his bulge into my face.

He had a fat cock and I wasn't going to wait for him to tell me what to do with it. I snorted at his boxers, nervous muscles in my chest tightened in arousal. The air between his thighs was thick with the scent of him.

“God you're eager." He made a satisfied sound as I tugged his boxers down. I snuffled loudly as I pressed my snout against the underside of his cock. “Such a good boy."

He stank of man. I whimpered as I huffed at his scent, like he hadn't showered in a few days. I don't know what it was about dirty old cats that made my entire body glow. I snorted at his nuts and whimpered as I felt his cock against my forehead. My tusks pressed into his thighs as I lapped the salty sweat off of his balls. My nose braced against the underside of his cock as I sniffed at his pubes, I opened my mouth and swallowed his nuts.

He exhaled, his paws braced against the top of my head. “That's it kid." I stared up at him as I let my tongue glide under the back of his nuts. His paws gripped my ears as I lapped at his taint, his cock twitched against my face. “Nasty pig." He growled low as I circled the sensitive flesh behind his balls. The raunchy sounds he made were beyond satisfying to me. I fondled myself as he tilted further forward, his furry sack dragged across my snout.

He started breathing deeper, one of his paws gripped my mohawk tight. He stared down on me, the darkness made his face a mystery but I could see the intensity that glimmered in his eyes. “Disgust me." He turned on the tips of his toes and crammed my face into his asscrack. I moaned aloud as I huffed the musky scent of his ass and eagerly lapped at his hole.

Tiger hole was something special. Fuck. My entire body tensed. My cock twitched as pre oozed from my slit. I pumped myself in a fist as I snorted desperately at the base of his tail as it lashed back and forth between my ears.

He was growling pleasure into the night. “Fuck yeah boy." He ground his ass into my tongue. I snorted and lapped at his sweaty hole. I delighted in how the puckered skin quivered at the touch of my probing tongue. “Could use a cunt like you every fucking night." His voice twisted into something raw and threatening. I only nuzzled into his cheeks harder.

Kidnap me then, I dared him from within my own head. Take me and use me like you claim. The fantasy was a delight. Remove me from this shithouse life I led, make me your ass-eating cunt to abuse every day. These were all words I might've said aloud if I wasn't jabbing my tongue into his body. My tusks pressed hard into his firm cheeks. My senses were utterly absorbed in tiger ass and that completed me in a way I seldom felt.

But he jerked away from me. “Ahh, fuck." He turned around to face me again, he was clenching his cock in a fist. He smeared his precum against my face. “Dirty boy, I ain't forgetting what I wanted to do to you." I grinned up at him and tried to stand. He jumped on me and we tumbled into the dirt.

I was winded as we hit the ground, he scrambled like we were wrestling until he was under me. He caged me against his body, his warm paws found my ass and he spread it with force. I moaned at the warm puff of his breath before his bristly tongue rubbed against my asshole. I gasped aloud and shoved myself down on his cock. His thick head struck the back of my throat, I gagged and spat. His chest tightened as he exhaled.

“Do that again." He spoke the words with his muzzle between my asscheeks. I couldn't refuse. I didn't even pause before I crammed his cock back into my mouth with enough force to hurt. I bottomed out, gagged and tried to jolt free.

His legs criss-crossed behind my head. I jerked and spluttered. My throat hurt, but he was too strong for me to force myself out. I hacked and coughed around his cock before I tried to gulp at him. It stung my throat but he growled into the night.

“Fuck yeah boy, that's it." He humped at my face, for oral it was far more intense than anything I'd ever done before. I gagged and took it, all I was good for was his pleasure. His cock was slick with my own spit as he thrust into my throat. He exhaled forcefully before he licked my ass with fervour.

I lay atop him, trapped like prey as he fucked my face. I had to steal breaths in the brief moments he drew his hips back. I grew dizzy and lightheaded, my body felt heavier with each splutter. His cock lodged in my throat as he growled in the throes of pleasure.

I rasped, hardly able to draw in breath and his thighs clamped tighter down on me. He moaned wildly and rocked both of our bodies until I hacked and coughed and spluttered. I forcefully tore myself off of him and crashed into the dirt, heaving in breaths.

I needed a moment to regather myself, instead he lifted my head back to his cock. I took it without hesitation, it was what he wanted and this was what I deserved. His paws moved from my jaw to my ears. He wasted no time, he humped at my muzzle.

My mind was still back on the floor, I was light headed and could hardly gather what I was even doing. I tried to draw in another panting breath but his cock filled most of my mouth. I was wheezing when his balls first brushed my chin.

“Fuck yeah." His paws were a clamp on each of my ears as he fucked my mouth. I went limp in his hold and bobbed along willingly to whatever he wanted me for. I was past the point of pain, the repetitive motion had stolen most of the feeling away. He slammed his hips against my face and shifted his grip so he doubled over me, my head cradled in his arms as he held me in place with his cock wedged as deep as it'd go. “You're so fucked up boy." His words barely reached my ears. My eyes fluttered, my chest heaved as I tried to squeeze in air around his cock. My vision speckled and I felt at peace.

He released me. I jolted back and panted in a breath. He looked down on me with an emotion lost to the dark of the night, I assumed disgust. I'd be disgusted too. But I wanted that. I lunged back onto his cock and eagerly gagged myself on him again. He moaned as he let me go of my own volition.

I hugged myself to his legs as I swallowed him to the hilt and choked myself eagerly until my fingertips were numb. My chest hurt but nothing else mattered to me except his pleasure. My knees wavered. I dropped back in a sudden moment of weakness. The world spun and I really, really wanted to close my eyes.

He was purring, and then he was lying over me. I felt woozy and weak as he crawled on top of me. My face was wet with my own spit. He was kissing me, his tongue invaded my mouth. He moved his muzzle to my ear and whispered, “We're going all the way."

It didn't matter how many times I'd ridden an older guy's cock, I always thrummed with excitement over another opportunity. I was a slut and I needed to be treated like one on the regular. The thick head of his cock prodded my asshole. I tossed my head back and moaned. His paws found my throat as he pressed into me.

He closed his grip on my neck. I wasn't sure exactly what I expected, I tested a breath. His paws clenched so hard against me I could hardly gasp. Danger flashed in my mind, I seized it in triumph. I think I deserved this. Today had amounted to another stupid failed interview and more violent daydreams, of course I should be choked.

I convulsed, my hands scrambled against his. I sought purchase to try to make enough of a gap to suck in a breath but his grasp was iron. The panic made it hard to focus on the pleasure of his cock spreading me open. He was far from a gentle fuck but I wasn't entirely sure I felt what he was doing.

Darkness strained my mind, I held a final memory of bliss and then the world flickered.

The tiger's muzzle was against my neck. It stung. He was heaving breaths and grunting and gasping. A stick dug into my back and prodded me repeatedly.

There was warmth throughout me. My head lolled, but his paw clenched my ear painfully. He roared into the night and then collapsed over me. I could feel a wetness as it sprayed within me. The stink of his sweat filled my nostrils. My neck prickled and stung again, but this time he lifted his head. His fangs gleamed white in the moonlight.

Ah. He'd given me a hickey. Maybe many, judging by how raw my neck felt. Oh. That could be from the strangling. Maybe. My thoughts bubbled oddly, both instant and sluggish.

I was all shaky and it hurt to breathe. My lungs ached in my chest, but a moan slipped my lips as he pulled out of me and stood. I lay on the forest floor, my mind felt loose from my body. I knew I was sweaty. My throat really hurt. My eyes felt heavy. “Did I pass out?" I asked.

He chuckled. “Fuck yeah you did."

I sat up slowly. There was a strand of his spunk that stretched down my thigh, I rubbed at it wearily. “Huh." I lurched to my feet, I was shivering.

“I'm gunna go. Thanks boy." He clapped me on the shoulder, then turned. I wanted to ask him for something but I felt a hitch of panic, the world spun for a moment. What more did I want from him? Ah. His bed. His fantasy. My captivity under his lust. I had to lie back down again, he was gone. Not even he'd treat me like I deserved. I lay there, the minutes stretched away as I recovered. I was surprised by how long it took for my breathing to become normal.

And fuck me, my throat hurt. I prodded at my neck and winced. That would bruise.

With a sigh, I used my discarded clothes to wipe any obvious excess off of me before getting dressed. I was so disoriented from passing out I didn't even realise I hadn't finished.

Fine enough, I guess, another punishment I deserved. I palmed off a load against the trunk of a tree and sauntered off. I didn't pass a soul as I made my way home. I kept fidgeting and poking at my neck, it was sensitive to the touch. I slipped in through my window then shut it behind me, the frame scraped loudly against its setting. I sat on the edge of my bed, marvelling over my own breathing.

I'd do that again, I think. Especially after a day like today.

A light switch clicked on the other side of the house; my breathing ceased. I folded my arms as I heard his footsteps. My father opened my door carefully.

“Davie…" He made an exasperated sound.

“What." I felt disgusted that he'd seen me like this. I could still feel the tiger in me, his thick paws around my neck. I wanted to squirm. I wanted to shower and scrub my skin until I bled. I wanted to fling myself through my window just to flee this moment.

“I don't want to know what you're doing, I just want to make sure you're not being stupid."

“It's like 4am, just fuck off and go to sleep." Anger exploded into my voice. I stared at my clock and blinked, I could feel the tiredness in my bones.

“Just tell me you at least used–"

“Stop." My voice dropped into a deadly calm. I knew if he said another word I'd throw myself at him in a frenzy. He heaved out a sigh, shook his head and stomped back through the house. His frustration was obvious. I let it be.