FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

Acceptance was difficult. From the outside it looks easy, silly even to consider it being any challenge at all. The world would be much simpler if everyone got along. Felix knew this and yet still, for the longest time in his life, hated his reflection. He didn’t like how girly he was, how right it looked to be in feminine clothes that fit his lithe body and matched his pink fur. He’s spent so long wearing baggy clothes to hide it and it ended up making him look more like a tomboy than an actual boy. Then the pink leopard met his girlfriend, Tiffany. A rock drummer shark herm with a body like an amazonian goddess who treated him like a man. Even if he dressed in girly clothes, she still treated him like the guy who wanted to be seen as. That was the first step, finding someone who saw him as he wanted to be. So, of course, he realized later that he, she, or they in some cases, was actually more genderfluid than expected. This took several years to figure out, with one statewide tour and a new job as a personal assistant in a talent agency to really hammer the fact that people would mistake him as a her, or her as a him. What used to drive him into the closet to cry became as noticeable as a light tap on the shoulder. If anything, Felix grew inspired by the ability to pull off being either a boy, a girl, or both. One might say it was a natural gift. If his younger self saw them now, he’d be furious. Felix would simply smile and say it gets easier. Except closet space. That gets worse. With a new confidence in identity, Tiffany suggested they spend the holiday going thrift shopping for new clothes and accessories. Mainly for Felix, as the shark had all that she wanted though Tiffany sensed she might peruse for herself. “It’ll all be my treat,” she said with a wide sharktoothed grin. “I’ll try not to get too much. Wouldn’t want you to feel cheated on Valentines." “Felix,” Tiffany said with playful chastisement as she landed a friendly chop across her partner’s skull, “I like spoiling you and transactional relationships are bullshit anyway. But if you want to feel less guilty, then think of showing off as payment. If you like what you find, of course.” The leopard nodded. He’d been eager to try on something new, to find a style that screamed her, him, or they, and not just them hiding. Skinny jeans and tight tees were all fine and good but they lacked variety because Felix was too afraid to get something girly. Now it was time to change that. Better on a day he felt like a man too. What was manlier than someone confident in their clothes? Of course, actual clothing stores were out of their budget. Tiffany may have been famous enough to walk around with an ugly hoodie and her mohawk down to avoid notice, but that fame didn’t translate to wealth. Studio recordings, rent, travel, food, roadies, and more all went into that budget. The Rock Jaws weren’t exactly ‘ramen noodles’ broke anymore, but they weren’t in the upper echelons of wealth. But Tiffany was making an affordable living as a full-time artist now, and Felix’s role in the talent business offered a steady income when they needed it. They went thrift shopping instead. Both were well acquainted with the concept as Felix’s parents had a habit of not buying him baggy clothes and Tiffany spent years not using her family’s support. Of the two of them, Felix knew more thrift stores on account of them not being a herm or trans. “They can be pretty discriminatory," Tiffany told her partner once when mapping out places they could go. Felix did a mental scrub of several old places because of this. Filtering down other options left them with one; Dawn’s Garage. A staple in a local community, Dawn served the queer community since before they marched the streets. Well, the original Dawn. Her adopted son was in charge of it now but he was every bit as accepting as his mother, and understanding of why they were one of the few thrift stores with changing rooms. “Just don’t make it obvious,” was the unofficial slogan of Dawn’s that gained heavy prominence when the YMCA stopped offering rooms. “We’re not actually using those rooms, right?” Felix asked. Tiff grinned as they walked inside. “What?” she asked, slipping her sunglasses off. “You don’t have a sense of risk anymore?” “I never had a sense of risk.” Being quite taller than Felix, Tiffany had to lean down to whisper. She enjoyed this and, to Felix’s credit, he did too when she whispered, “What about how we met? Or our first date?” “T-That was different. We were having fun.” “And we’re here to have fun too. Getting some awesome fits for you.” Felix looked up at his partner. “Fits? Really?” She frowned and looked away, blushing, “Sorry. Been trying to catch up on lingo lately. It’s a little exhausting.” The life of a celebrity, even a B-tier one, was exhausting. Luckily it wasn’t about fans today. They scoured through the donated clothes that hung from the racks like vines. Tiffany held her opinions so as not to pressure Felix’s choices, knowing this was his style. The first outfit was a toe dip in a lukewarm pool. The jeans were still skinny, but the shirt matched his fur color. Almost too much. Tiffany shook her head and Felix was hoping she would. No coddling for style. He tried some light blue clothes, almost baby blue in nature. “They are baby blue,” Tiffany insisted when he pulled out the skirt, “They’re cute, but they are baby blue.” Next he tried a sleek sports jacket with shoulder pads that must have been donated in the eighties but Felix insisted it was made in the early 2020’s. Regardless, he combined it with a pair of dress pants and some leather shoes that, in Tiffany’s view, made him look like a lesbian. “I mean that as a compliment,” she said, taking the moment to slick back his headfur, “Get you some hair gel and you can be a short king.” “Wouldn’t that be queen?” “You look butch. King is fitting.” Felix rolled his eyes. It’s a good thing he was ok with this now otherwise he’d be lamenting how his most masculine self-made him either look like a masc lesbian or a low-T transboy. Maybe that he was just destined to be femme-butch. A futch. “Guess I shouldn’t try the flannel then.” Tiffany pulled one such flannel shirt from the rack, “I don’t know, I think you can pull this off well. Plus you look good in a beanie.” “And hide my hair?” Felix brushed through his purplish pink headfur, “Where’s the fun in that?” The shark sighed, “Oh the sacrifices we make for fashion.” As it turned out, Felix killed it with flannel. Though the real prize of that experiment was the boots. Felix had been a sneaker person for most of his life. Sneakers were comfy and, at least in his ignorance, cheap. They were colorful, passionate, energetic, and kiddie, at least on his worst days of thinking about them. Boots were always the more adult footwear, and in his self-loathing gender-confused youth Felix found he was never capable of wearing boots. That changed when they tried the light brown pair Tiffany brought to complete the ‘femboy lumberjack set’ the shark was building up. They weren’t exactly what Felix wanted, but it started a search. “Ok, so I think you look good with a mix of darks and lights,” Tiffany said as she combed through the racks. Felix browsed the various boots and a single pair of black tall doc martens caught his attention. Their girlfriend pondered over this for a moment. “Looks pretty punk to me,” she said. “I can do punk.” “Punk isn’t hard for you,” Tiffany said, then after a moment added, “Well, the look isn’t hard for you. I think we should try a little goth.” Felix, who knew nothing of goth subculture beyond the stereotype in cartoons, rolled his eyes and said, “I don’t think me being in all black with eyeliner and negative in every conversation is going to help my mental health.” “Oh, honey, there is way more to goths than the basic stereotype.” Felix tilted his head as Tiffany layered their outstretched with various clothes. “What? I thought they all looked the same?” “No. Goth culture is about nonconformity, which includes themselves. Come on, let me show you.” Pastel Goth, as Tiffany explained it while Felix put the outfit on in the dressing room, was a rebellion against the drab and dreary nature of goth clothing. It focused on more cute or kawaii stylings while keeping the hard edges of goth. Mixing black with lighter colors like pink, warm purple, light blue, keeping the spikes or studs, and having a more positive outlook in darker situations. A sinister cuteness that used lighter colors to make the black stand out more. Felix’s outfit culminated in a black oversized hoodie like the one he used to wear, one with baggy sleeves that hid his hands with pink anime style skulls dotted all over, a light blue skater skirt, purple and blue striped socks, and the tall laced boots in question. Tiffany knew underneath that hood was a hot pink crop top with black skulls, but Felix felt comfortable with the hoodie. It didn’t feel like he was hiding it in, more that it was making him seem more mysterious in a weird way. “You gonna tie your laces?” Tiff asked, pointing to the loose laces spooled over the floor from his boots. Felix got an idea. An awful, insidious, and playful idea. An idea that could only work in the cramped dressing room they’d sequestered themselves into. Like lightning he shot his leg up, holding it there for several seconds before pressing it against his girlfriend’s crotch. “Why don’t you?” He asked, leaning in with both hands dug deep into his hoodie pockets. The shark’s face went red. She smiled. Felix felt her cock stiffen under his boot. “Oh?” She leaned in to him, letting the boot grind against her crotch. “Do you need me to tie your laces now?” “You want to see how good these boots are on me, don’t you?” “I do. But…” She patted the toe of his boot, “I think I need a little something to get me to tie your shoes.” “A little something?” She nodded, “A little something. Like let’s say you lift that skirt and show me how your little guy is looking.” If she’d asked Felix this a year ago, maybe two years, he’d have baulked and broken then and there. It wouldn’t have mattered if they were in a private dressing booth like this one, they were in public! But Felix now wasn’t the same scared cat he, she, or they, used to be. With a smirk on their face that spoke, “Bet.” Felix lifted the baby blue skater skirt to reveal not only his lack of underwear, but the flat chastity cage pressing their dick and the two orbs made fat by the pressure of the metal ring. “That’s a good little enby,” Tiffany said. She reached for the hanging sack and gave it a little squeeze, more possessive than painful. It was the closest the key had been all day since it hung from her wrist like a bracelet. Felix’s face dropped. “Enby?” He asked, trying not to moan with the pressure on their nuts, “Seriously? Enby?” Tiffany’s smile dropped. “What? I couldn’t decide boy or girl in the moment.” “It’s just…just really cringe, Tiff.” Tiffany squeezed. Felix didn’t buckle if only because he didn’t need to stretch his sack out. “It’s not cringe, it’s cute,” she said, playful but insulted. “H-Hey, save the ball torture for later,” Felix said. “Apologize then.” “Make me.” “I have your balls in my hands.” “And we both know you'd rather do that in the bedroom.” Not that Felix minded her grip that much, “But we’re in public and I still have my gift to give you. So, come on. Tie my boots up already.” The shark’s cheeks puffed up before deflating with a breath. She let go and tied his boots, “I still think it sounded cute. Even if it’s in a cringe way.” “I didn’t say it didn’t. It’s just cringy cute. You know, like ugly cute?” “I suppose,” Tiffany said with a sigh. After tying his laces, she pinched his face tight with the same hand that held his balls. “You’re lucky I love you,” she said with sweet sincerity, “Because you’ve been cheeky lately.” Felix grinned before their lips met. “You get more aggressive when I am. I like when you’re aggressive.” “You could just ask.” “We both know you need a push,” Felix said, reaching around to pinch her ass. “Besides, you like getting pushed. You’re still pitching a tent.” She gave him a face that said she agreed and called him a little shit. “Just wait until we get home. Then I’m enjoying my gift.” Felix’s clothes didn’t last when they got home. They looked lovely on the chair besides their bed, and on the floor mixed with Tiffany’s as the two tussled in embrace. Less of an embrace and more Tiffany hauling Felix against the wall in the privacy of their abode and carrying the leopard up the steps like a princess. One they so graciously enjoyed being. “Not the socks,” Tiffany said. She’s tossed Felix into bed playfully to give herself time to pull her pants down. Felix paused midway through stripping, catching sight of her erect cock bouncing as she moved. “Why?” He asked. Her shark-tooth grin never ceased. “Because they look cute on you, duh. Keep the shoes.” “I’m not muddying up the bed.” Tiffany rolled her eyes, “Fair point.” She crawled into bed once his shoes and panties were off. There she made use of Felix’s yoga lessons as she pulled his legs behind his head, locking them with a pair of cuffs before latching his arms to the bed posts. Once sure he was immobile the shark began tapping the jeweled base of the hefty buttplug Felix had been wearing while they were out. “There’s something I want to try before opening my present. Are you open to experimenting?” Felix jostled their bindings, “I don’t have much of a choice, do I?” Tiff leaned closer for another kiss. “You always have a choice, love.” Felix knew. He stuck his tongue out for a tease and Tiffany suckled it. Her hand trailed down his chest as their tongues tangoed, her finger dragging loops around his nipples with the occasional flick before holding a fistful of his stomach fur. They traveled lower still, stopping at a possessive hold of his balls. “Ready?” She asked. Felix nodded. The shark backed up to place her cock over his cage. Even without the prison Felix would be dwarfed by her size and width. She had enough for both of them and he was happy to admit it. She cupped his balls in one hand and held hers firmly in another. “I’ve seen a few caged girls get off on this online. Wanted to try it.” “What exactly?” “This.” Tiffany bopped her cock against his sack. Felix had experienced enough cock and ball torture to know when something hurt and when something was uncomfortable, so the heavy and hot phallus decking his pushed sack was more of a dull pain than anything. A soft, dull pain that made a fleshy clap when Tiffany did it again. And again. And again. He winced. She grinned. “Could you imagine getting off like this?” She teased, continuing her low-stakes assault. “I mean, anal I get. There’s a prostate there. But this? There’s nothing here but a little pain.” Plap. “It has to be mental.” Plap. “Like, I’ve got this big meaty cock, and it’s just your caged clitty.” Plap. “So cumming from this is almost pathetic. Like, you couldn’t do regular sex ever again.” Plap. “But I’d still love you.” Plap. “I’ll always love you.” Plap. “Be it prince, princess, or something in between.” Plap. “Because you’re not just my partner.” Plap. “You’re my pretty little bitch.” Plap. “And I love making you scream.” Plap. Plap. Plap. Felix might have seen those same videos. He didn’t get the trend, at least at first when watching it. But now they started to craft a picture. Because with every thwack of her cock against his balls he felt smaller, weaker, more in her control and safer for it. Only she could hurt him, only she could tease him. Each hit was another step on the tightrope of his edging he wished to jump off. Close. He bit his lip. He was so close. But it didn’t come. His balls ached and shivered with the room temperate chill of her precum that draped over it with every hit, but the desire didn’t waiver. “More…” Felix muttered, “I’m so close, just a little more.” “No, I don’t think so.” Tiffany leaned down, scooping his sack in her hands for a tender kiss. Her tongue lathered the organs, trailing along the flat cage and adorning it with kisses. “I think if we want to see you cum from this, we’ll need to do some training. We can add it to your little gooning sessions.” He moaned. “I hate it when you call it that.” Felix was in near constant chastity now, save for cleaning when Tiffany tied him up to clean it, or his birthday where she let it out to breathe. She’d all but taken ownership of his privates and he’d welcomed it. The teasing sessions were murder enough, calling them gooning just felt like she was trying to antagonize him. Supportive but playful, growing more and more eager to tease and bully in bed. Felix cock cage always strained at her actions. Fingertips around his rim brought him back to attention. With a careful twist and pull, Tiffany wrenched Felix’s buttplug with a light pop. “After all, I think it’s safe to say this hole is trained to perfection.” Lubed fingers stretched the rim wide with eager energy. Tiffany smiled with satisfaction, “It’s my hole. It was made for me.” “That’s a reference, isn’t it?” Felix asked, more annoyed she hadn’t buried herself inside him yet. “Maybe,” she teased. “But I should give credit. You made this for me after all.” “No, we did.” Her cockhead braced against his backdoor. “No. You did. I provided the motivation, but you’re the one putting this thick plug up your ass every other day. I taught you yoga but you’re often the first to start it.” Her warm palm braced his cheek. “I did a little stage makeup for you once and you’re wearing lipstick without telling me. You’d have broken down at the suggestion when we met. But now? Now you’re so confident in yourself. It’s inspiring.” “I didn’t do it for–” She silenced him with her thumb, “Shush. You did it for you. I know because I see how you smile in the mirror when you’re alone. You’re not just my good boy, girl, or whatever. You’re yourself. And that’s what I love the most about you, Felix. You’re blooming confidence.” Her cock sank in. In by inch, just big enough to spread his loose hole. He held his breath. She leaned closer. “A cute face with makeup I want to ruin is just a bonus.” Her thrusts were slow, better to let Felix feel every inch of his backdoor spread and form to her shape. No matter how many times they’d done it he always felt weak to the feeling. A good weak, the kind where he knew he was safe in her arms. She could bite him and he would know there’d be no blood. That was his trust in her. His love. Of course, she wasn’t just fucking him for his sake. Her thrusts steadily sped up. The bed creaks mixed with the wet sounds of her cock slipping in and out of his ass, followed by the breathy moans escaping their paired lips as tongues danced in a harmony of dominance and submission. Brought to the edge by his sore balls, Felix crossed it with the heavy pistons of Tiffany’s hips. The flat cage erupted like a geyser, spewing its first strand of seed fruitlessly into the air. The second and third came shorter, mixing with the pool of white cum covering his cage and leaking down his sack. Tiffany didn’t stop. Felix didn’t want her to. It wasn’t just because she deserved her pleasure, though Felix would admit he’d feel guilty if she didn’t get it. No, he didn’t want her to stop because he was a masochist who wanted to drown in the pleasure her thrusts gave him. He wanted his flattened cock to beg for mercy and give it none. And Tiffany knew that. She was no sadist, but something about the leopard made her let loose in a way she couldn’t. When she came, when she filled his insides with her warmth, the two melded together as much as their sweaty bodies could allow. Her shark teeth bit his lip and pulled. He winced and groaned, collapsing into a mess when she let go. He could feel her soften inside them, and shuddered when she pulled free. Her absence was a travesty. She answered it with a hug after unbinding his body. He always forgot how his legs burned after bondage, but it was well worth the goal. “Happy Valentines, love,” Tiffany whispered, spooning her genderfluid leopard. Felix smiled and closed their eyes. “Happy Valentines, love.”