FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

It was an administrative position, that's what the listing had said. Hiring a college grad, must have experience with word processing and database management. Easy. The kind of thing Russet had been doing since she'd gotten out of school. Sure, most girls didn't want the stigma of a sex-toy company on their resume, but when it was one of the larger employers in the city and you had rent to pay, it wasn't the worst gig in the world.

That's why she'd taken the role, showing up a month ago in her business best— no employer had turned her away for a charcoal skirt and a white blouse. Yet it had made her the most overdressed girl in the display room, the glass front of the building giving way to a showfloor the size of a tennis court. A horned woman had laughed when Russet introduced herself as the interviewee, making some remark about good girls and backroom deals. It had flustered her, sure, but the girl had been nice enough when she'd walked Russet into the back.

The harness her guide wore had been… distracting, though, to say the least. Black leather and brassy buckles pulled tight around the orange skin of the devilish girl, only the shining latex of her corset offering a modicum of modesty. It had been difficult not to follow every sway of her hips, and when she'd finally been shown the door? The look beneath those horns told Russet the girl knew all too well where Russet's eyes had been.

Still, it had been a normal enough interview with her new boss, Tilvra, a smiling lizard built like a brick shithouse. He'd reassured her over the course of an hour, the two tucked into a small office with beige walls and inspirational posters tacked onto the walls. Even the aging, grey carpet had screamed nothing but corporate dregs, but it breathed familiarity into the room that Russet had desperately needed. A day after she'd wandered out the front, Tilv had called her to offer her the job.

Sure, she didn't remember her onboarding despite sitting down at eight in the morning and having Tilv rouse her around four, but she figured that was just because every company's training bored you to sleep. But when it happened again the next day? And the next? It had started to get to her. The paycheck had been worth it, though.

Still, there was the soreness when she got home, the ache she chalked up to sitting in her chair all day as she entered the warmth of her house. The office chairs were nice, sure, but the mesh tended to catch in her fur and she was sure the support was already doing a number on her back. That wouldn't be hard to fix, though, she'd just have to ask her new boss for a new one, say something about a budget surplus or whatever.

Really, she was mostly lucky that she didn't have to visit the front, even though Tilv kept telling her their customers had high praise for the “wolf in the harness," and he'd even passed her a bonus for the month. That had shocked her: any office she'd been in saved a check for the end of the year, but a cash advance for the newbie? She tried to chalk it up to a signing incentive.

Today, though, Tilv visited her office again with that crocodile smile in the corner of his mouth. The massive lizard had to duck just slightly to fit through the door, the scales of his hand rasping slightly against the frame. Here, in the shoebox of an office, she was sure he would have dominated the room even the white fabric of his suit pulled taught around him, his biceps bulging the seams like a sausage in too small a skin.

“I thought I'd come to check on your progress," he said, his voice the bassy sound of a root splintering. “A month in, and you've been blowing all your metrics out of the water, Pup."

That word. She didn't know what it was, but it sent a thrill through her. The screen, full of little cell-rows and columns of numbers, it blurred as she looked up into his smirk. He'd always carried authority with him, the kind of confidence that bulk and muscle brought by nature, but this? This went beyond the power of her boss.

“Have I? I'm… thrilled to hear it," she said, her tail already wagging against the plastic of her seat. Only the desk separated them, two monitors and a laptop bundled in a knot of cords, though with how Tilv leaned forward it suddenly felt like matchsticks compared to his hands. “Is there anything I could improve?"

His smile said it all, alligator teeth peeking from behind his upper lip.

“Oh, just one thing," Tilv said, his tone raising goosebumps along her arms. He took a step forwards and she leaned back in her chair, her ears turned back that littlest bit as he loomed like a monolith. One finger traced her desk, his claw almost stony as it scraped dully against the wood. “I need you to be a good girl."

It was like a wave washed through her, a shiver that started in the tips of her ears and ran all the way through the tendons of her ankles. “Hahh…" A breathy sound, the kind of noise that rolled out of her throat and lingered just past her tongue. Her thoughts coagulated, gelled together even as she tried to answer him, watching him step around the corner of her desk as she fought to regain control of her mouth.

“That's it, no need to think. No need to worry about your projects. Just be a sweet puppy." His voice was honey, a simple syrup that spilled right through her ear. There wasn't any resisting it.

After all, she was only pretending, wasn't she? Wearing a skirt, buttoning her blouse every morning, it was just a costume, a plaything, the kind of outfit overbearing owners dressed their little dogs in every day.

“Up, Puppy," he said, that word lingering in her mind like neon, glass letters woven in swoops of puppish delight as his hand found her chin and tilted it. Like a cloud, she lifted from her seat, shaky hands leaving it spinning slow behind her, the casters rumbling gently

Tilv didn't hesitate, smiling as he kept one finger on her chin and stepped around her, settling himself into the seat with a sigh. Russet swore she could see the steel of the support tremble, the pneumatics dropping under the other man's bulk.

“Why don't you give me your thirty-day report, Pup," he said, voice softer this time. Then he pointed at the space between his feet. “Since it's your first review, we'll take it slow."

She knelt between his thighs, the short fibers of the carpet digging through the thinner fur of her knees. From here he loomed above her like a sentinel— he'd always been massive, but this was different. From here she was a stone to his mountain, a dandelion nestled in the crag of his scaled thighs. Gentle, his hand found her chin, and as though he were teasing apart leaves from a branch, he parted her lips with his thumb.

Russet didn't resist, not as he pushed it further, pressed it into the warmth of her mouth. She let her eyes fall closed as he did, letting him ease that thick digit between her lips before they finally closed around him. In the darkness of her mouth she tasted the salt of his sweat, the faintest sheen that she swallowed all the same. Yet she closed her eyes for only a moment, savouring the feeling of him, the way he pushed so light just to give her a tease of what awaited. When she opened them again, she saw the curl of his lip, the satisfaction in his eyes.

Who was she to deny him? She sucked on it, let him feel the pull of her body as though she could take him, all of him, with just the pressure of her tongue. The rough calluses of his scales rasped along her tongue, not nearly enough to hurt, but more than enough to send a thrill up her spine— she knew the work those had been born of, years spent in the rougher edges of the streets, lingering at the corners of bars with cigarette smoke and house lights pounding. They'd found a hundred skulls and knocked a thousand more, she was sure. Today she'd feel them playing through her hair, dragging strands between his fingers like an iron comb. She'd feel them wrapped around her throat in a cage twice as tight, letting every gasp catch against his knuckles.

When he finally pulled back and took a glimmer of her spit with him, Russet only whined. It was reflex, the kind of doggish thing that left her blushing, but how could she help herself? She'd been given a tease, the barest taste of what he had to offer, and now he left her to kneel like a pet at the foot of the table.

She could feel his chuckle before she heard it, his head tilting to the side as he watched.

“Desperate already, Pup? I haven't gotten to your real treat," Tilv said, spreading his thighs a fraction further. The leather soles of his shoes hissed against the carpet as he shifted, but Russet had eyes only for the hand that fled her.

Thumb and forefinger caught around his zipper, pulling the metal tab down. Teeth unlaced with a gentle zip, the grey of his boxers pushed free by the arousal beneath. She could see it throbbing already, every heavy beat of his heart pressing it against the cloth. Pre leaked through, darkening a spot against the front that brought a little smile to her lips.

Working a man up, riling that arousal out of him, it always sent a thrill down her spine to see how badly he craved her. Even when she was the one kneeling, the one all but pressing her head into his hand, it never hurt to see how Tilv enjoyed her between his feet.

Russet had the perfect view as he left her there, hands in her lap and puppy-tail wagging, his thumb digging into his boxers just to let that heavy length fall free.. To her canine nose, the smell of arousal and heady masculinity was a wildfire, a hot blanket rolling over her face as he shuffled the cloth down.

She'd seen it twenty times now, remembering only now with those magic words knocking in her skull. From the very first day she'd joined the company to a week ago in the back of the stock room, she'd already greeted his nuts with the caress of her lips. That didn't make it any less special now that they hung before her, the barest glint of sweat catching the light.

Tilv grinned as he saw the light in her eyes, a spark wholly different from the clever pup who'd sat in this chair just a second before. This was the hunger of a dog, a little mutt desperate for her treat.

“Bark Puppy, let's hear how bad you want it."

Something deep in her foggy mind still knew that she shouldn't, that she should crawl to her feet and salvage what little remained of her dignity. To bark meant giving up the tatters of her pride, letting him rub his nuts on her face as she yapped like a little dog. She wouldn't be a person, wouldn't be anything but a pretty toy in his eyes.

That's why her breath caught in her throat, why she leaned up on her knees and closed her eyes tight.

“Woof! Woof woof!" It was a rush, a crude simulacrum of what a puppy sounded like, but the smile on Tilv's face was all the praise she needed. Like the pet she was, that tail of hers wagged a mile a minute, faster still as his calloused hand ruffled the hair between her ears and left her beaming like the happiest girl on earth.

That was just a taste though, the literal one still to come. A shift of his hips and he let his cock hang above her lips. “Open, Pup," he said.

Russet didn't need to be told twice. Like they were connected by string, his hand fell and her jaw fell with it, the dusty pink of her tongue a welcoming carpet as it rolled over her teeth. She pulled her hands to her chest, curled them into paws, covered her tits with the backs of her hands and begged with her eyes. In any other situation, shame would have welled in her gut, the knowledge that she was debasing herself like this. Here? Embarrassment tinged her cheeks, humiliation wallowed in her chest, yet it so perfectly mixed with the desire welling in her gut.

She wanted this. She wanted to be treated like a dog, and Tilv knew it. Behind her, her tail betrayed her excitement with every wag, every brush of fur against the floor. A pet couldn't hide her glee, even if she pretended to be a wolf.

Tilv patted her cheek once, only to slip his hand behind her head and pull her in. It wasn't a hard tug, but it wasn't one she could resist. No, she dropped her hands from her chest to brace one against Tilv's seat, the other against his thigh. Yet Tilv's own weren't idle, not as his free palm slipped under his balls and cupped them, brought her spread lips to the leathery flesh of his sack in their first kiss of the day.

If she'd tasted salt before, now she swallowed the earthy tones of his sweat. Little drops clung to his nuts like water to glass, surface tension breaking across her tastebuds in a flood. It was all she could do to keep herself still as he held her, let her get a taste of what her lips were meant for.

“Keep it open, Puppy, don't close it," he said, his voice a quiet rumble. Who was she to do anything but obey, every breath pulling his arousal into her lungs. Heady. Overwhelming. The smell of virility and confidence.

Those thick fingers made sure her jaw stayed open, the heat of her breath all but caressing his skin. He held her chin as his thumb pushed from behind his sack, pressed one nut into her mouth just so she could feel the fullness of it, the weight. Her right cheek bulged even as a flush crept up her neck, but Russet didn't pull away. Like a good girl, she kept herself kneeling, kept her hips from shuffling back even as she felt his hand move.

“Mhhn…" Russet whined, losing the battle with her nature.

“Quiet, Pup, good dogs know their Master by taste," he said, pushing that second nut into her already full muzzle.

She screwed an eye shut, scrunched up her snout, but that wide, wolfish mouth made the perfect hollow for his balls. Her lips closed around them, her tongue caressing the back of his nuts, and all she could do was whine up with those soft puppy eyes.

“There, perfect lil Puppy. That's much better than trying to speak, isn't it?" He asked, a chuckle in his voice.

She couldn't deny it, not with her lips stretched and her mouth stuffed. To him, she wasn't a wolf, she wasn't a proud woman working her way through the company: she was a nutwarmer, a pretty hole to cram full of his cock and leave beneath his desk, working away between his thighs. Every movement, every fidget of her body only reinforced it, the push of her tongue teasing his nuts, tasting new flesh every time he shifted.

He glanced down at her, Russet watching as his hand caught the lid of his laptop and lifted. There was only one word on his lips.

“Suck."

With her cheeks hot, she dropped her gaze. Fingers curled against the leather of his seat, claws digging gentle into the mosaic of his scales, she obeyed. Warm, easy slurps, little bobs of her head as she played with the tenderest part of his body. Forty pointed teeth framed his sack, and yet he'd made them useless with a word.

She wasn't a danger, she was a pet.

That's why she whined so soft beneath him, why she leaned into his thigh with her mouth full of her own humiliation. Round and smooth, full and hot, the tip of her tongue dragged figure-eights of spit along the bottom of his balls before she swallowed it all down.

After an eternity, she felt him move.

“Bark twice if you want more, Puppy,"

Earlier, it would have humiliated her, would have left her struggling with herself. Barking with her mouth full of him, spit drooling down her chin as she sputtered out those sounds. Unthinkable.

Now?

“Wahff wahff!"

Spit spluttered from her lips as she barked, a fine mist of sweat and humiliation. It was nothing compared to how he laughed, though, how he ran his thumb and forefinger over her ear like she was nothing but a mutt with her favourite bone. It twisted something in her chest, sparked something in her gut, a depraved heat that left her hips squirming against her heels.

“Good girl," he said, his voice a rumble. “On your feet, I have something else for you to wear."

By the time she'd stood, he'd already gestured for her to strip. With shaky hands, she unbuttoned her blouse to let cream and brown fur spill out, the black of her bra giving way to nothing but her bare chest and the curve of her back. A smirk and a glance out of the corner of his eye left her blushing, but all she saw of him was how he bent over the side of the chair to rummage in the bottom of her desk drawer. What had he…?

She flushed, her skirt half-way to her ankles as he pulled a folded rectangle of shiny, red rubber from the bottom. Unfolding it in his hands, it fell into the shape of a dress— he'd prepared for this. Maybe it had been last night, maybe even a week before he'd stashed it under nose. That realization sent a rush through her, nearly stronger than the embarrassment she felt as she stood there in nothing but her fur, naked as a dog with the far larger man rising to his feet.

It was fetish-wear through and through, a latex dress that looked as though it had been through a paper shredder— the middle of it had been torn til only a narrow strip covered her navel, the rest a corset-cup that hugged her tits in a strap that ran around the back of her neck. Yet the part that really had her squeezing her eyes shut was the massive window cut in the back, practically a doorway that let her ass spill through, framed by curtains of red rubber.

It dug into the sides of her ass as though it were trying to cup her cheeks, Tilv helping squeeze her into it with a tug of her shoulders, a heavy hand against her back. The mirror finish reflected cream and brown fur, creaking even as she warmed it with her body.

It wasn't like she'd be able to go far either, narrow buckles crossing her thighs in roads of crimson latex, the lizard cinching them tight enough that she might as well be wearing a cocktail dress. It nearly hobbled her, left her balanced on the ends of her heels with nothing but the desk to support her.

Every movement pulled the latex against her fur, everything from the shift of her hips to the way her shoulders moved as she braced against the desk. Russet could smell it, the powder-and-chemical odor of fresh rubber, the kind of thing that immediately called to mind blue rubber gloves and a doctor's office.

She supposed that wasn't entirely unfair, considering the inspection Tilv gave her.

“That's it, good Bitches wear what their owner wants," he said, a pleased rumble in his chest. Not that it spared her the lightning-sharp smack of his tail, that paddle-wide limb smacking her cheek with all the grace of a whip.

“Hfff!" She hissed a breath through her teeth, rising up onto her toes as the jolt rocked through her, the nettle-sting of his tail smarting before his scales had even left her fur. She half-turned, but only saw his hand lifted in an upwards gesture.

“Up! Up, Puppy!" He spoke to her like she was nothing but a dog, his voice pitched and goading. She wanted to growl, protest, find some sort of argument, but any time she opened her mouth all he had to do was squeeze the reddening mark on her ass and she shut right up. The last thing she wanted was to earn another smack, not from a tail like that.

That's why, against her better judgment, the wolf climbed up onto the desk. The edge bit into her knees as she hefted herself up with a push, Tilv's fingers digging into her ass as he helped her with a push. It wasn't graceful, anything but, but with the groan of her dress and a stretch of the buckles around her thigh, she was up on the desktop.

“Good girl, such a pretty Puppy," Tilv said, that heavy hand ruffling the hair between her ears. It was enough to earn a smile from Russet, despite the embarrassment swirling in her chest.

He wasn't finished, though. Hands like concrete blocks found her wrists and pulled them to the desk, letting her balance on the balls of her feet. It was a crude squat, the kind of thing reserved for a heeling mutt, a squat made all the harder by the latex squeezing around her thighs. Even now, she felt as though she could lose her balance at any moment, her breath catching as she felt Tilv against her back. God, if anyone walked in and caught them like this…

She felt his hand slide upwards, his palm rough against the soft fur of her neck. Warm. “One more thing, Pup, every dog deserves a toy." She heard the laugh in his voice as he brought something cool and steel to her lips. “Hold," he said, the order clear and firm in her ear.

Already the dots snapped together in her mind, fresh heat filling her face, but she couldn't find any other choice. The taste of iron filled her mouth as she wrapped her lips around smooth metal, the curves familiar enough to steal a whimper. Cool and unyielding, she knew what this was— she'd sat on plenty of them.

Tilv's hand squeezed gentle around her neck. “Good girl, you deserve a warm plug when we're done," he said, rumbling in her ear even as she folded her ears with a whine. The fact that he'd made her taste it, pushed the plug into her lips, the same toy she was sure he'd crammed under her tail time and time again… it left a flutter in her chest, a deep and resonating humiliation that sparked nothing but heat between her thighs.

She hardly had a second to relish it though, not as she felt his hand against her hip.

“Drop your ass, Puppy. You're a dog now, sit like one." Tilv shifted behind her. From here, plug in her mouth, he was a wall of muscle— the light caught in his every scale, sleeves rolled up around his forearms, the lighter shades of his front melding seamlessly into the darker scale of his back.

It made the contrast all the sharper as his palm cupped the swell of her cheeks, tense as she lowered herself into a squat, his fingers firm and strong in the sensitive back of her thigh. “Ghhh…" She breathed out, shoulders forward, knitting her brows as she tried not to focus on his claws as they slid just a hair's breadth from her pussy. An inch further, a millimeter and he'd have her whining, have her gasping out as they teased against her, pushed against that sensitive flesh.

It was all she could do to keep from curling her own nails into the desk; she knew that tail waited to lash out if she showed anything but her best behavior, and she doubted Tilv would like his dog scratching the finish.

Instead, Russet's thighs burned as she lowered her squat, spreading her knees out as wide as the hobble-skirt would let her. Latex stretched with the protest of a surgical glove, the wolf's hands planted between her toes as she wobbled on her heels. Yet she managed to do it, arching her back as she tilted herself into him, a certain kind of pride on her face as she kept her balance.

“That's it, good," Tilv praised from above, and only now could she catch a glimpse of that satisfaction in his smile, and the cock that he teased between her cheeks. It sent a shiver up her spine as she felt it in the sensitive cleft beneath her tail, teasing against the pink of her asshole as he pressed that cockhead against it in firm, short rubs. Warm and wide, it hugged between like the head of a snake.

“I want you to breathe, Puppy. You've done this before." She nodded as he spoke, her short, sharp breaths turning into one long drag.

She held it, and she felt his hand go to her shoulder.

She let it out, and he pushed his hips forward.

“Ghhhn…!" Russet grit her teeth, squeezing her eyes shut as she felt that thick crown push against her ring, pry at it like a wedge. Any other girl would have jolted forward, would have tried to push him away, but with the taste of his balls in her mouth and that hot, wet need… Russet couldn't do a thing but lean back, help him work that shaft into her.

As if by a miracle, she felt herself start to open, stretching around him with all the uncomfortable satisfaction of a girl letting a man put himself in the one spot he shouldn't. Inch by inch he pushed his way inside, forcing her to huff a throaty breath, sweat beading on her forehead as she fought the urge to clench. It wasn't natural, relaxing now. It was necessary though, eyelids fluttering as he slipped that little bit deeper, forced his way into the velvet-slick confines of her guts.

It was an invasion in the most intimate sense, her asshole hugging his cock tighter only than the perfect half-moons of her cheeks. Like topographic lines, wood-grain rasped under her claws as she finally lost that little bit of control and hunched her shoulders forward. A shudder wracked her, but all she heard from behind her was a groan as he forced her to squirm, forced her to clench tighter around the thick, thick length he worked into her.

By the time she finally felt his hips against her, she was drooling around the steel of her toy. Another humiliation, and it wasn't one she could even bite down on without breaking a tooth. Rather she was forced to squat there and whine with her thighs already starting to burn, a perfect puppy with her ass stretched, squatting on the desk like a show-dog on display.

“I knew we did right, hiring you," Tilv's voice was a rumble behind her, “it's been some time since we've last had an employee with the right spark. Be a waste to have you in admin, you'd be a hit on the floor."

Russet glanced back, her bangs a veil across her eyes. She wanted to speak, but if she opened her mouth even slightly the toy threatened to fall, and she so desperately wanted to impress her boss. No, the girl could only squat there with a whine on her lips, a doggish little sound that brought a smile to Tilv's face.

“Pup's eager to get the rest of her treat, mm? I won't tease you then." Before she could even try to correct him, he was pulling free, prying that length of lizardcock out of her ass like a sword from a stone.

Her eyes shot wide before she could even think, only for her face to fall into a groaning, pinched display of embarrassment and delight. There was a satisfaction to it, a perfect counterpart to the twist of shame and delight in her gut when he'd pushed inside. Now she felt him slipping free, felt that blissful slide of flesh against flesh as he left her empty, eyes half-lidded in something like a groaning wince.

He didn't pop out of her, though, far from it. The rim of his cockhead caught against her asshole, stopped him as though it had been designed for it. He gave her only a moment to adjust, and then he began the process of driving in again— a slow, piston-head push. It was easier this time, but no less an act of degradation. She had to squat there still, a steady stream of spit dribbling around the toy and down her chin like she was a pup salivating at her treat.

She wasn't even allowed to rest on her knees, wasn't even given the whorish class that came with doggystyle. No, this was a squatfuck, the kind of position given by a man who wanted her to know she was a dog to him, a pretty Puppy with her ass sunk low, the heels of her feet wobbling just behind her hands. There wasn't grace, wasn't dignity, only the sound of his nuts clapping against her neglected pussy, soft and heavy as they patted against her with the sound of leather against fur.

There was no questioning Tilvra's experience, not as he forced her to arch her back, tugged her tail up just to feel her shift, feel her clench. His hips worked with the timing of a machine, a constant rut that forced her forward, pushed her into every pull of his hands. They stayed busy too, plucking at the latex of her front just to dig into the softness of her tit, pushed into the red rubber covering her breast like it was the skin of a cherry he couldn't wait to devour.

And all the while she had to huff and splutter around the metal in her mouth, a reminder of what her tongue was good for and just where that plug would end up. “Hahh… Hahhnnn…" Russet half panted, half groaned as he left her heaving for breath, only to squeal as his tail smacked her ass once more in a thunderclap of leather and latex.

As experienced as he was, he couldn't last forever though. Minutes passed, before she felt him tense, felt the claws on her ass dig deep. All Russet heard was a grunt from behind before she finally felt him slam home, a hand on the back of her neck forcing her forwards.

Tilv ground into her as he held her there, a mutt seized by her scruff and stretched around his cock. Rope after rope of thick, hot lizard spunk erupted inside her, forcing the girl to squirm as he pumped her full of his seed. Wet and heavy, it settled in her gut, an embarrassment of a different kind. All she could do was whine around her toy, panting with little splutters of spit as he filled her most intimate hole.

After a long, long minute, she finally felt him shift, his voice breaking through their panting. “Open," he said, holding out his hand. Glancing back, her cheeks hot, she spit the toy out into his mottled green palm.

As he pulled free, there wasn't even a chance for her to leak. Warm steel pushed against her still slick asshole, relaxed enough that all she could do was clench her jaw and gasp. He pushed it home with two fingers, the bell-shape of it spreading her once more just for that perfect little ring to clench tight around the neck of its base. With a smirk, he patted her cheek.

“Good, now off the desk, Pup, it's time we gave you a tour of the office."

He was kind enough to give her an arm as she stumbled off the desk, leaning into him with her chest still heaving. Every step she took forced her to clench as he lead her to the door, the plug thick beneath her tail. And still, she felt nothing but heat, nothing but need between her thighs as he left her neglected and pent-up.

She remembered her first lesson on the job— good girls didn't mix business and pleasure. Not until they were told to.