FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

It was one of those cold afternoons in between Halloween and Thanksgiving. The town of Second Chances recently celebrated the former by showing horror movies in the Mess Hall, much to the delight of younger denizens, and the nostalgia of everyone else.

It was all fun and games, even if killer clowns and demonic possession seemed like childish concepts compared to the real-life terrors beyond our property. Nothing struck true fright into our hearts than the thought of starvation or freak weather patterns, let alone raiders who might discover the town. Still, it didn’t stop several of the younger kids from foraging for their own makeshift costumes and attempting to trick-or-treat.

In my case the previous night, I didn’t have a costume, but I certainly got a treat after being invited up to their bedroom by the triplets. Which meant I wasn’t surprised to wake up in the late morning with three purring black cats nestled on each side of my naked Doberman form, with Ambrose—the ‘oldest’— using my body like a pillow.

All four of us had the day off from chores and settlement tasks, so we’d collectively decided to sleep in that morning. At some point before noon, just as I felt like I could spend all of winter in my warm cocoon of purring cats, Ambrose left to use the bathroom and so did Cliff. Eventually, I needed to go as well, and Blaine followed close after we took our pisses and brushed our teeth.

It was a shame that the chilly weather kept us from walking around the kitchen naked, but it didn’t stop us from just wearing pajama bottoms (and nothing else). As I chewed on some leftover bacon from the Mess Hall kitchen, Ambrose shared a plate of cooked scrambled eggs with his brothers. I only relented in having my own portion fried up if I gave them some of the greasy bacon.

“Did Zachary mention needing help today?” I asked them.

“Dad did say last night that today could be a lazy day, unless Jimbo still has that cold,” Ambrose answered between chews. “He said if Jim calls in sick again, I’ll be doing perimeter checks from noon until dusk, so I ought to be ready just in case.”

“What about us?” I asked, motioning to myself and Cliff and Blaine.

“Us?” Cliff echoed my question.

“What can we do today until dinner time?” I asked.

“Wanna check the Trading Post?” Blaine suggested. “There was that expedition to Crivitz, Marinette, and Peshtigo a couple days ago. None of us had the chance to see what they found for both markets.”

“Why not?” I said, failing to hide the excitement in my voice.

“Sounds good to me!” Cliff felt the same.

“Alright,” Ambrose conceded, “but get dressed first. Last thing we need is a cold this time of year. And for God’s sake, Cliff, if they found porn, please don’t trade all your free time again.”

“One time I did it last year,” his brother groaned with rolling eyes, “and you never let it go!”

“Serves you right for being horny,” Blaine laughed. He motioned to the youngest triplet with a cocky thumb, grinning. “Dumbass literally worked his butt off every night, three weeks in a row for one magazine.”

“You jerked off to it too!” Cliff hissed as we traversed upstairs for more weather-appropriate clothing. “And you still do!”

Ambrose and I chuckled as everyone shuffled upstairs to get dressed. Minutes later, we were exiting their cabin to make our way across the sea of log houses, shivering at the dropping wind chill. Winter was coming, fast.

***

Second Chances didn’t have an official trading post so much as a two-story cabin owned by Mr. and Mrs. Menendez, a saintly skunk couple. They volunteered to make their log home the town’s de facto general store. Rather than trade goods or items for worthless money, mammals bartered almost anything within reason, from scheduled work shifts to food grown outside of the communal gardens. At the Trading Post, there was almost always something new to see after every scavenging trip outside of town.

Scurrying inside the Trading Post Felt like traveling to an antique store in the pre-apocalyptic past. Shelves seemed to crowd the walls and floor, some of them filled with items neat and mediocre. At least, compared to the needs of the new world we all shared. At least one shelf was stacked with different magazines. Another shelf housed laptops or smartphones. The one most popular with cubs held either recovered toys or coloring books not yet filled in. Meanwhile, the liquor and food to be traded could be found in the kitchen area.

However, the triplets and I weren’t interested in the ‘general market’, but what could be found in a guest bedroom upstairs. A sign written on the door in permanent marker read ‘Adults Only. 18+ Allowed. No Judgement’.

Beyond the unassuming door, we entered a tiny paradise; two whole bookshelves dedicated to physical pornography and ‘marital assistance products’. One shelf was for heterosexuals while the other was reserved for homosexuals like us. Unfortunately, the latter shelf did not have anything new for us to ponder buying.

“You still thinking about buying this one?” Ambrose asked as me and his brother crowded around an erotic magazine I held in my paws. It was older than the Collapse but remained in good condition. Whoever in town scavenged it knew it would be bought. “I think you’ve been drooling over that copy since you arrived here, Don.”

“Hey, you know what?” I asked a little coyly, smirking down at the physical cover—slightly dirtied and wrinkled from age—depicting a pair of bodybuilder bucks wearing nothing but bright red bows on their cocks. “I might just buy it, after all.”

“Huzzah,” Cliff giggled, and Blaine shook his head. “About time you make a purchase here.”

“Shame that someone bought that dildo we got back in Milwaukee,” Blaine whined. “I was looking forward to trying it out if nobody got it…”

Ambrose chimed in to say, “Why do you need it when you got us, bro?”

“I thought we could use it together!” Blaine stuck his tongue out as Cliff and I exchanged snickering glances. “Besides, I remember that cock being bigger than yours.”

With that, Ambrose growled in playful offense. He rushed forward to playfully nip his cheek a little hard, eliciting a yelp from Blaine and laughs from the rest of us.

***

We spent half an hour joking and surveying the rest of the adult material, both gay and straight, at one point trying to decide which cock appeared to be the largest and the thickest (congratulations, hulking polar bear porn star Jason Glacier, wherever you were). Then, we looked around the bottom floor to see what general market items the triplets actually wanted to barter for. In the end, I traded two evenings of free time to work cleaning the Mess Hall for Mrs. Menendez in exchange for the dirty magazine. Ambrose successfully negotiated to have an obscure science-fiction anthology book placed on hold, and he could have it once the black cat brought one of his own used paperbacks to trade.

We were eager to get home, to their home, I almost kept telling myself. We wanted to look through the magazine and add it to their collection. However, Zachary did end up asking the four of us to assist in various tasks the rest of the day, and I didn’t get a chance to return to their cabin until much later into the evening, when it was already dark, and everyone had just finished eating dinner.

We showered, returned to wearing pajama bottoms, then finally, went into their bedroom to discuss my first official barter. Well, after we panted and drooled at every page depicting full-frontal and backside depravity, of course.

It wasn’t long until we were all masturbating together, or rubbing through the pajama fabric, or each other. Especially as I narrated an interview where Jason Glacier described his first sexual encounter while attending college. Apparently, the polar bear hunk had been fooling around with an athletic coach, who then introduced him to bondage. We were all enraptured by the sordid tale as we sat together on the soft bed, getting worked up.

Well…the triplets got worked up. The further I went on and narrated the three-page interview, the less I started to sound enthusiastic. Ambrose was the first to notice.

“What’s wrong, Donovan?” He quit purring, followed by Cliff and Blaine. “You’re sounding…sad.”

“You okay, Don?” Cliff asked.

“Something on your mind?” Blaine asked as well.

I sighed and set down the magazine, staring down at a photograph depicting Jason Glacier caressing his muscular stomach with both paws, winking at the camera as if he were flirting directly at me.

“Do you ever wonder what happened to any of these men?” I asked a moment later. My eyes traveled from the page to the concerned eyes of my feline friends sitting beside me on the mattress. “It’s been almost five years since the end of…the end of everything out there. Millions died every year. They still do. But do you ever wonder if these handsome men we’re jerking off to…if they survived? Or did they all die and are now all gone?” I groaned, pinching the bridge of my canine nose. “Sorry I’m being so fuckin’ morbid.”

“Don’t be,” Ambrose replied with an understanding smile. “It’s natural to wonder.”

“True that,” Cliff said with a melancholic nod. “I wonder about celebrities, some athletes and artists. Porn stars too. Sometimes, I wonder what happened to the Pavlik brothers. If they’re even alive at all out there…”

“Oh yeah, the Pavlik twins.” Blaine nodded, as did Ambrose.

My ears perked in confusion. “The Pavlik twins? Who’re they?”

“You’ve never heard of Elliot and Mitchell Pavlik, the gay twins? From the Czech Republic?” Ambrose raised an eyebrow, chuckling. “They made news headlines several years ago?”

“I grew up in a strict Christian household, dude,” I said. “My foster folks didn’t exactly let me keep up with the news that much unless it reinforced their version of God.”

“Good point,” Cliff conceded to the elder brother, who continued.

“Elliot and Mitchell Pavlik are a pair of Czech brothers me and my bros are a fan of,” he explained, and rushed over to pull out a box from the nearby closet. I joined him and his brothers as they sifted through DVDs and printed photographs. “They caused a lot of controversy by being the only openly incestuous twins to star in gay porn. I’m talking about mainstream studios too. They even did an interview with a big-name magazine detailing their taboo romance to the public.”

Indeed, kneeling before the opened box of secrets, I pulled out at least three different DVD cases depicting a pair of incredibly handsome and fit rabbit twins standing together. Sometimes smiling, sometimes staring romantically at each other, and oftentimes in the near-nude. At least one printed photograph taken from a video clip revealed the duo kissing romantically in front of an ocean beach at either dusk or dawn. Others depicted them in various stages of undress. Whatever the case, Elliot and Mitchell appeared incredibly happy.

“Wow…you’ve spent years collecting DVDs about them?”

“It helps to have a hobby that’ll keep you sane,” Blaine explained, smirking at me and a grinning Cliff. “And what did we and they have in common, but sex and taboo? We were actually hoping to get in contact with them at some point and compare notes as well as advice on how our family could work…y’know, without legal interference. We had so many questions, wanted to know that we weren’t alone for feeling these feelings.”

Cliff made a sad trilling noise. “We never got the chance though,” he said. “About a few months before our old lives ended, Elliot and Mitchell suddenly went dark and disappeared from social media. Rumor had it that their family intervened or one of them started dating a girl and found God, but nothing was ever confirmed. Next thing you know, my brothers and Dad and I are being arrested.”

“And then,” Ambrose added, “life as we know it comes to an end, and everybody starts living off the grid. For all we know, they could be dead.”

As I aptly listened, my eyes fell on one of the DVD covers. It read “The Pavlik Twins starring in ‘Final Taboo’”, depicting the handsome Czech bunnies completely naked save for a sinful black thong on one twin and an angelic white thong on the other. I could almost make out the shape and curves of their manhood through the fabrics. They each had an athletic arm affectionately wrapped around one other’s shoulder, smiling brightly at the photographer. In the background, I could make out still images of them lying together on an expensive bed, one twin touching their nose to the back of the other’s strong neck, and the two of them making out like lovers in a private moment. What were they thinking during these montages of photographs as they were taken? Like the triplets and I in the present day, did they finally feel free and liberated? Were they still that way many years later?

As harsh and dangerous as the new world was, I hated being pessimistic. It always felt inevitable though. Besides the relative freedom of independent settlements, the collective Mississippi Nation down south, and maybe the tyrannical enclaved cities like Minneapolis, most of the North American continent was a lawless wasteland. Nothing but superstorms and utter anarchy. The same could likely be said for the rest of the world. With global communication back to the Dark Ages and any remaining technology being boarded like treasure by enclaved cities, nobody knew if Europe still existed, let alone the Czech Republic.

Maybe they were alive. Maybe Elliot and Mitchell Pavlik managed to survive the Collapse and found peace together in Prague or the Czech countryside. If the triplets and their father could, why couldn’t they?

“One can hope they’re still alive out there,” Blaine concluded. “And still open and happy.”

I softly smiled at each of the triplets. My tail wagged her as I leaned my shoulder against either Ambrose or Blaine, with Cliff leaning close too, purring.

“Yeah,” I said. “Still open and happy.”