FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

[Name Here] stared towards the cave’s entrance incredulously, lifting the hand holding their [torch/flashlight/phone/lamp/etc] higher to try and peer deeper into its depths.

[S/he] was no stranger to such formations, yet still [they] couldn’t help but feel a shiver roll down [their] back as [they] stood there. Unlike most caves which were typically cooler than their surroundings, the breeze escaping from this one was far too warm, and far too humid—clinging to [their] fur to form small droplets of dew upon [their] hairs... Bringing to mind a giant, breathing mouth more than a natural formation.

It didn’t help that whenever [their] ears focused forward, [they] swore they could hear a distant, wet quiver beneath the strange wind, far too close to the sound [their] own throat made as [they] swallowed a mawful of spit.

The [species] shook [their] head, working to clear [their] thoughts before anymore paranoid nonsense took root. [They] had a job to do, one that [they] couldn’t just abandon. The sooner [they] explored the cavern in front of them, the sooner they could return home, and banish the strange cave to be nothing more than a stubborn nightmare in the depths of [their] subconscious.

With one more, deep, willpower steeling breath, [Name] stepped forward, crossing the precipice into the rock mouth. One uncertain step was followed by another, then another, each gaining more confidence than the last as the daylight outside began to fade, leaving [them] entirely dependent upon the [torch]’s light—a distant second to the sun’s light outside, adding yet more fearful phantasms racing across the [species] mind as [they] swore their [torch]’s light was far feebler than it should have been, as if the cave was swallowing the light like it was swallowing him.

It wasn’t just [their] light. The entire cavern felt wrong, a thought that only got stronger the deeper [Name] trespassed into this domain man was not meant to dwell. [Their] ears twitched and quivered, dancing to every distant sound echoing through the long, winding rock tunnels—the wet squelches [they] had heard earlier becoming ever more apparent. The strange warmth and humidity, meanwhile, weighed down on [them] like an oppressive blanket, making each breath far more of a struggle than it had any right to be.

Again [they] fought on, putting aside [their] paranoias, retreating to meticulous and overly cautious surveying to keep [their] mind distracted, as well as to assure [themselves] of [their] safety—blinking away a few beads of dew that had collected at the edge of their eye lashes as they did so.

The air only grew hotter and damper as [they] strode forth, making their [garb] feel all the more insufferable by the second—sparing a moment with their free hand to [pop open buttons/pull down zippers/etc] to loosen their fit and hopefully feel a bit less stifling in the near-tropical environment.

[Their] nerves only grew more frayed around the next bend, as the featureless rock face became smeared with some strange fungus or slime mold—no doubt thriving upon the still fetid air. The purple-black gunk squelched beneath [their] feet like an inch-thick layer of mud, grasping at their boots to make each step deeper into the depths that much more tiring, that much more of a struggle. The air, too, took a turn for the worse, ever so slightly irritating [their] eyes as if a layer of invisible dust was settling upon their surface and clogged [their] nose with an entirely alien aroma that made [them] want to do nothing more than scrub themselves clean.

Again, [they] pushed forward, reminding [themselves] of [their] reason for being here... Of what was riding upon [them] completing this investigation... Doing what [they] could to mitigate the unsettling sensation by [wrapping a cloth over their nose and face/strapping on an environment mask] before pushing deeper.

[They] were nearly to [their] goal now... Just a few more minutes, then [they] could leave. If [they] left now, [they’d] only have to go through the long, fear-invoking journey back down to this point again.

The wet, squelching rhythm became loud enough that it echoed throughout the cavern all around [Name], their rampant imagination quickly likening the steady, repetitive beat to a heart beat of some great beast—the tempo of the living rock all around [them]. Every heavy breath [they] took to try and stifle their fear only tickled [their] senses with the slime’s unappetising scent further despite their mask, making their eyes water in sympathetic reflex.

One last corner... The beating note of squeezing fluids drummed across [their] ears just as oppressive as the spore and dust filled air pressing upon his psyche.

[They] took a step.. and, at the critical moment, the mud-like gunk seemed to grasp their foot!

[Their] gait was interrupted at just the wrong time, [their] stumbling attempts to re-orientate [themselves] made all the worse by the awkward grip upon [their] rear foot! In the end, [their] boot was left behind, exposing [their] bare padded soles as they stepped forward in a desperate attempt to pause their forward momentum...

Only to discover the tunnel [their] feeble light-source had failed to illuminate properly was not a tunnel at all, but rather a sharp, steep slope.

[They] fell, their flailing descent at least spared the biting embrace of rock by the inches thick ooze now coating every inch of the cavern around [them]. [Their] claws attempted to dig into the strange gunk, but to their surprise, despite how easily it had squished beneath [their] feet, [their] fingers failed to find any purchase against the purple-black ichor, leaving them half-sliding, half-tumbling deep, deep into the earth...

Until [Name], and their [torch] were finally spat out into a large, cavernous chamber.

No sooner had [they] arrived than every primal instinct in the back of [their] mind screamed, begging, yelling at [them] to flee! The air here was so thick that [they] could barely breathe, every desperate attempt to fill [their] lungs triggering a sputtering cough, whilst every hair within [their] pelt felt like it was being washed by the humidity.

[Their] thoughts ran through their brain like lightning, fast and a jumbled mess one right after their other, [their] eyes and ears snapping to and fro in every direction to try to make sense of what was going on and, most importantly of all, find a way to escape.

The slime slip and slide gullet behind [them] certainly wasn’t going to be an option.

But, just as [they] were about to reach for [their] [torch] to find a way out, or at least, somewhere [they] felt like they could breathe without erupting in choking coughs, the echoing, squelching drum [they] had heard on [their] way down played out again... Sweeping through the thick purplish slime-coated walls of the cavern [they] were in...

Shortly thereafter followed by a myriad of smaller wet schluuurps of movement from all around [them], and a faint shimmer of bioluminescent purple too faint to see by... But just strong enough for [Name]’s eyes to see that the walls and floor of the cavern were seemingly moving, quivering and reaching out towards the intruder that had fallen into their trap!

Without hesitation, [they] grabbed their torch and ran. But, no matter which direction [they] chose, the glowing, black-purple slime had them surrounded. [They] barely managed another few steps before [their] remaining boot was trapped in the languid gunk, repeating the same escape the other foot had performed before [their] fall... Only for their escape to be brought to a grinding halt as [their] now bare toes sunk past the far too warm, far too encompassing slime’s surface—hardening around his feet like cement no sooner than they had pressed beneath their surface.

“Fuck!” [Name] shouted, sweeping their [torch] around, along with anything else [they had on them] to try and fend off the strange creature [they] had stumbled upon...

Only for their resistance to be quickly overpowered as the oozing walls, floors, and ceilings began to stretch out towards him. At first, large, gentle waves of gunk flowing over gunk rolled towards him, leading to the [species] to think [they] were about to be buried beneath a wall of slime—entombed beneath the ooze to succumb towards either digestion or suffocation. Instead, to their horrid fascination, the peaks of the waves pressed out further, stretching the purple-black slime into long, prehensile feelers which blindly grasped towards [them].

One, two, perhaps even four tendrils would have been a valiant fight, but as the gunk gathered and reached out towards [them], the narrow circle of light offered by [their] [torch] soon revealed dozens of identical tentacles approaching from every direction.

[If they have a weapon, it gets lost at this point.]

[Their] [torch] was all but pried from [their] hands as one strand of squelching slime coiled around [their] left arm, entwining around their limb until its oozing grip was far too strong to resist without risk of dislocating [their] arm! Not that stopped [Name], as the very feeling of the slime sliding across [their] fur was wrong. The gunk was warm, just as hot as a living body, yet wet and oily like fat that never broke up no matter how vigorous [their] protest—simultaneously as soft and free flowing as water, yet as hard as steel at a moment’s notice.

[Their] left was soon mirrored by [their] right, then [their] legs, as each and every one of their limbs was imprisoned within the sickening grip of the strange existence—slithering beneath their clothes to prod further along their body while a bright purple, lubricating gunk oozed from the brackish tendril’s surface to stain [their] clothes and fur, only making the wrongness of their touch worse by hot the drooled liquid seeped to the root of [their] fur.

[Their] heart beat only hastened as a tendril coiled around [their] neck, squeezing just tight enough to threaten the flow of blood to [their] brain, followed by a set of tendrils around their inner thighs and another looped around [their] shoulders and arm pit.

For a single, split second, held by the overpowering tentacles looped around every limb, [Name] froze—held like a kitten by its neck, although paralyzed as much by fear as instinct.

[They] swallowed, their [eye color] eyes flicking to and fro as smaller, more nimble tentacles formed the second wave of [their] assailants. These prodded along [their] fur, creeping along [their] limbs with more gentle, curious touches than the overpowering trunks of slime that held them aloft like a trophy. But, far be a comfort, the curious squirms slipping beneath [their] clothes only made their heart pound harder as the vile things seemed fit to writhe over every square-inch of their being! Their slow, yet inevitable spread across [their] [chest/breast] and towards [their] crotch only helped to encourage [their] futile squirms...

Before, as the first delicate-yet-unyielding prods [against their lips/over their sheath/slit] finally pushed [them] too far!

[Their] lips parted, fangs bared as [they] prepared a defiant, snapping growl at the disgusting filth’s violating touch... Only to have their shout snuffed out half way not by the tendril around their throat, but another that suddenly lurched forward and stuffed [their] maw full of a thick, magenta tendril that oozed the same bright carnation slime right across their tongue before cramming its quivering, tapping point against [their] throat.

[Name]’s eyes immediately watered as the atrocious, utterly alien taste of the thing in [their] maw made [their] tongue spasm in disgust. [Their] eyes watered, tears creeping into the corners, [their] chest heaving as his body reflexively protested the vile taste... Yet, instead of hurling up [their] breakfast, or at least a mawful of bile to greet the intruder, [their] body only dry heaved... Caught in a cycle of failed protests that did little more than make [them] spasm while the tentacles continued to spread, continued to explore, continued to prod towards [their] most intimate bits.

It was only as the oral intruder pressed forward—seeming to more ‘grow’ with every quivering, squelching pulse ringing through the tendril’s length rather than ‘slide’ forward like a limb—against [their] throat that [they] started to guess why... That noxious gunk, the pink, lubricating slime healthily smeared over [their] tongue and now trickling in an overflowing dribble from [their] forced open maw, was somehow numbing his body’s responses. Or, so [they] guessed, as the length began to crawl into [their] esophagus, stretching [their] gullet around its swelling girth, stretching [fur color] furred neck with far less protest than the gagging violation should have brought!

Which did not mean that its excavating delve towards [their] stomach was easy... But it would soon become just one of many problems the [species] would have to contend with as similar tendrils pressed underneath [their] tail... between their legs... In fact, any orifice the enigmatic thing could find, as even their ears weren’t safe from the smaller, oh so curious tendrils prodding towards their depths...