FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

“I'm not wearing anything beneath that,” I protested. I fully expected to be waved through the security checkpoint with a cursory warning. Around me the oddly liminal din of the airport hummed and babbled, muted cries of children and hundreds of conversations blurring together into a stew of sound. The checkpoint security officer regarded me indifferently. “I'm sorry, ma’am, but jackets and hoodies must be removed before passing through the body scanner.” There was a note of exasperation in his voice, as if I were the unreasonable one. I hadn't thought much this morning of just slipping on my favorite hoodie and going braless. The thick fabric was more than enough to hide the bumps of my nipples, and I wasn't so endowed that I needed the support all the time. Perks of being a feline. I hadn't accounted for going through security. “I told you I can't just take this off, I'll flash everyone!” The guy, a dead-eyed raccoon looking like he was at the end of his shift, sighed. “Ma’am, you're welcome to change in the bathrooms and come back, but I can't have you holding up the line.” He gestured vaguely at the queue, which I had had thirty minutes to become intimately familiar with. Reluctantly, I stepped back to let a family of weasels pass me. I couldn't help but snap at my apathetic obstructor. “Can't you just let me through? All my clothes are in my checked bag. And my flight is leaving in thirty minutes, I don't have time to go back through the line.” My tail lashed behind me involuntarily, despite my best efforts at trying to contain my irritation. The raccoon didn't respond for a moment, and I could almost see the thoughts going through his head. Probably some variant of your lack of preparation isn't my emergency. “I'd get in trouble if I let you through. I've given you your options, ma’am.” I stared at him incredulously. “You can't seriously expect me to just strip and go through security with my tits out.” That had to be illegal. Sexual harassment, probably. That we were even entertaining this argument was so absurd, it felt more like a perverse dream. I fought the urge to pinch myself. The security guy shrugged almost fatalistically. “You wouldn't be the first one. Nudity isn't illegal here, ma’am, that's a common misconception. But I really need you to either go through or leave, ma’am. I'm needed at my station. I looked around, desperately trying to find an ally, or just to point out how insane the whole situation was to someone. But I knew, the moment I saw the bored faces of the masses, that there was no one. Nobody cared about the lone cat, beyond the irritation of seeing someone making them wait. There was no rescue coming. Hesitantly, I ran my fingers along the hem of my hoodie, the brown fur shedding onto the cream fabric. As a Siamese cat, my fur darkened towards my extremities, going from cream to a chocolate brown. It meant no matter what I wore, at least one color of fur would end up showing all over it. But that was the least of my problems at the moment. I still could not process the dilemma I'd fallen into, but at this point I was running out of time, and the raccoon looked like he was about to kick me out. I turned away from him, saw the hundreds of people in line, and turned back to him. Better to flash one person than an entire airport, even if he was the one putting me in this pickle. In an attempt to preserve my modesty, I slid one arm out of its sleeve, holding it against my tits beneath the single layer protecting me. With the other, like ripping off a band aid, I pulled the hoodie over my head, leaving me in just my shorts and a lot more exposed cream fur than I'd like. It was like everything around me, previously a comfortable, apathetic blur, sharpened into painful focus. There was a noticeable hush in the ambient noise. I peeked down, saw a stray nipple, adjusted my arm so both were covered. Sneaking a peek over my shoulder permanently etched the faces of dozens of bystanders into my brain. Oh, they definitely saw me now. “In the tray please.” If he had looked pleased or victorious at all, I might have exploded. But there was nothing at all in his eyes. Just a man at the end of a long shift, with hundreds more in front of him. He barely even looked at me, already waving over an otter couple. The guy was doing a good job of looking at me while appearing not to. The girl just blatantly stared. Scraping together the shreds of my dignity, I turned and walked towards the scanner. My ears could pick up snippits of conversations, angling towards the crowd. “Why's she topless?” “She's cute. Cute tits, too. I wonder if the fur goes brown around her nipples.” “What an attention whore. I bet she planned this out.” There were phones facing me from the queue. Most of them looked like they could have been coincidence, just people browsing in line. I knew better. I'd probably be all over the Internet in hours. My arm shook against my chest. I was trembling. I couldn't stop it. Mercifully, there was no line for the scanner. The dog manning the machine waved me in. I stood on the paw prints painted on the floor. After a moment, he cleared his throat. “Please raise your arms over your head and hold still.” I took a deep breath. The phones were still facing me, the assholes. I raised my shaking arms and closed my eyes. I could hear the scanner pan across me. None of the phones made a sound, but my brain conjured the camera shutter sounds all on its own. I covered up again and moved towards the exit. An arm barred my path. “One moment please.” He looked at a screen out of my line of sight. “Sorry ma’am, your arms were blurry. We'll need to redo it. Please hold still.” Defeated, I hung my head and returned to the scanner. Assumed the position, spreading my legs and exposing my tits, forcing my arms still as the machine did its thing. This time the dog let me out, but gestured towards a rubber mat. “Arms out please.” There was no point in arguing. Everyone had already seen everything there was too see. There was nothing private about me after this. The Internet never forgot, and even if I managed to take down every copy online, I'd still be in the spank bank folder on a dozen people's phones. If people even remembered how to use folders these days. The dog, a wizened bloodhound, ran a wand against my shorts. I had thought I had the capacity for surprise beat out of me already, but the shrill whine it emitted still managed to startle me. “I swear I don't have anything in my pockets.” My tail lashed anxiously. Could I put my arms down now? The people beyond the checkpoint were starting to notice me. Someone pointed, and their companion stared. A hand against my hip startled me. The bloodhound frisked me, impersonal and professional. Since my shorts didn't even make it to mid-thigh, it took all of five seconds, but the gloved paw against my inner thigh still made me flinch. “Let me get my manager. Please stay here.” He wandered towards the x-ray machine. Left to my own devices, I awkwardly fashioned a bra out of my hands and stood, shifting my weight from paw to paw. For some reason, the x ray operators seemed to be dissecting my hoodie. A familiar face returned with the hound. The dog gestured at me. “There's nothing in her pockets, but I think that reflective strip is setting off the wand. Think we can let her through?” The raccoon slowly shook his head. “You know we can't do that. Our entire shift is already working double hours for half pay after we came in last on our metrics. I'm already on probation. We let those shorts through, and they might just throw the lot of us into the stocks.” He met my eyes. “I'm really sorry ma'am, but you can't bring those past the checkpoint. You can trash them over there.” He plodded away. “Sorry,” the old bloodhound murmured. He even sounded sincere. “But after they privatized security, it's been like this.” I wasn't sure if I was going to faint, vomit, or cry. Maybe all three. But at this point I was too far committed and had so little left to lose that it was easier to just pull my shorts down and bundle them into the trash than to fight against the monstrous machine processing me. I was left in a tiny little g string, just enough to cover my bits. For some reason, underwear just never sat right on my fur, and the less fabric, the less irritation I got. I didn't dare check to see whether it was covering everything. I wasn't going to fiddle with myself in front of the phone cameras that were popping up on this side of the checkpoint as well. The thing was a stiff breeze away from slipping to one side or the other on a good day. And today definitely wasn't a good day, but there was bad and there was worse. The only thing left to do was to retrieve my personal items from the x-ray machine. Yet another faceless drone gave me their pre-packaged sympathetic face. “There's this wire embedded in your-” “Just keep it.” It was my favorite hoodie, but what else could I do? If I stayed any longer, the fates would conspire to strip me of even my g string. “Just fucking keep it.” I snatched my passport and wallet from the tray. I didn't even have anywhere to put them anymore. The sterile digital clock told me I had ten minutes before my plane left. I'd have to run. “Have a nice flight,” the guy said dully. I couldn't even manage to hate him. I ran, not even bother to cover up, just needing to make my flight, needing to make all this worth something. Resignedly ignored the stares, the heads whipping around to follow me, the photos and the cat calls. I ran past the shops in the terminal, past the employee of the month board and the stocks set up facing it, past all the other gates. I made it with two minutes to spare. The ground agent scanned my state of near nudity, then scanned my boarding pass. A red light appeared on the machine. She gave me an apologetic look. “Since the flight is overbooked, you'll need to share your seat.” I glanced at her incuriously. “Share my seat?” I barely cared at this point. What was another indignity sprinkled on top of the pile I'd been handed? “Since the government deregulated airlines, we no longer rebook passengers on overbooked flights.” She handed me a weird looking tangle of straps and buckles. “Here's your seat belt. You loop it through the main one. Have a safe flight!” I slouched down the jet bridge, and paraded myself down the aisle of the plane for everyone's viewing pleasure. As promised, my seat was already taken. “I'm also here,” I weakly snarled at the naked border collie. “Did security get you too?” He checked me out. “Guess I lucked out, you look light. And pretty.” He patted his lap, his dick already becoming erect. “Got your seat right here, pussycat.” I pulled my g string off and rammed myself onto the dog's cock. On another day, I might have had the willpower to take offense. In the reality I somehow just have left behind, I'd have questioned my sanity. Today, it was a relief, after being impersonally denuded of all dignity, to have someone who wanted to fuck just my body. A flight attendant passed by. “If you can get him to knot you before takeoff, you don't need to use the supplemental seatbelt, as long as he keeps his on.” I didn't even know his name. Didn't want to know, really. I started working myself onto his shaft, impaling myself over and over as the plane pushed back from the gate. I preferred the honesty of this to all the other ways I'd been screwed today. And I'd be damned if I'd wear that stupid fucking child’s seat belt. Halfway through the flight, someone tried to hijack the flight with a knife they snuck through security. I was still tied to the dog, who had dozed off after filling me with two loads of cum, and really needed to pee, so there wasn't anything I could do about it. Thankfully, someone had accidentally left their gun in their carry on, and shot the hijacker before any harm was done. I still nearly pissed myself before getting loose, stumble-walking to the bathroom with a hand futilely holding back the flood.