FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

The buzzing evening serenade of a large choir of grasshoppers permeated the dimming late summer eve, accompanying the gentle rustling of long stalks of golden wheat that swayed in the breeze. The scent of fresh soil, dust, and cow dung floated in the air, being almost irrevocably embedded into the calm farmland scenery, complete with a long, dusty road leading to a lonely farmhouse compound in the middle of an open wheat sea. As the sun slowly sank behind the flat horizon, a pair of small white paws tread the soil, cautiously sneaking towards the farmhouse and the adjacent barn from amongst the wheat. Their steps were heavy with hunger and exhaustion. Kane voiced a soft groan as he performed the small leap necessary to clear the narrow ditch separating the farmyard from the fields, landing down onto the dirt with great difficulty, just barely keeping his balance. Taking a couple of cautionary glances at his surroundings, he quickly scuttled his way next to the barn, peeking his head out from behind it to observe the main building of the farm, which appeared lifeless. But the white-furred vulpine knew that the farm was inhabited. He could smell the food that was being cooked inside the house, the enticing odor of which was only amplified by his rampant hunger. As he inhaled the delectable scent into his nostrils, his stomach let out a wolf-like growl; something very uncharacteristic of a mere fox. Kane was torn. A part of him – namely his stomach – wanted to go over and knock on the unassuming door of the house to see if whoever was cooking inside was willing to share some of their food with him. But in his rational mind, he knew things wouldn’t go over that well. There was no way in hell that the house’s inhabitants wouldn’t question the appearance of a strange fox out in the middle of nowhere. Not to mention that the farmers around these parts had a reputation of being less than kind towards strangers. It was a real dilemma for the hungry fox. Kane was starting to get desperate. Ducking his head back behind the barn, Kane carefully perked up his ears, which picked up a strange sound coming from the opposite end of the rectangular farmyard building. The vulpine ears twitched as Kane took a couple of careful steps towards the sound, eventually recognizing it as the distant clucking of chickens. And as soon as he recognized it, his stomach voiced a growl that made his whole torso tremble. His heart beating faster and saliva accumulating in his mouth faster than he could swallow it, Kane hurriedly snuck his way along the barn wall until he got the spacious chicken coop into his view. Dozens of poultry of all shades from brown to black and black to white scuttled about inside. Their darting, erratic movement lit something primal within the white fox. He could feel his hunger subsiding, his senses sharpening, and his fatigue wearing off as his vulpine anatomy subconsciously prepared him for the hunt. Kane licked his lips, fixing his gaze on the chickens, and subsequently on the coop gate, shut by a measly hasp not too far from where he stood. He wasn’t usually a fan of raw meat, but it would do in a pinch. Now, he was hungry enough that just the thought of it made his body run on its instincts. Maintaining the slightest sliver of awareness, Kane took a sweeping glance at the farmyard. He saw no movement. Swallowing some more saliva from his mouth, he tiptoed his way over to the coop door and opened the hasp. His paws trembled from excitement. The flightless birds didn’t seem too bothered as Kane stepped inside their coop, only slightly moving away from the intruding fox and continuing their mindless pecking of the dirt beneath their claws. Kane’s yellow eyes began frantically flicking from side to side, trying to choose the most plump, succulent-looking chicken from amongst the modest flock. After a few seconds, his brain was finished with its predator-calculations and settled on the big brown hen wandering about at the back of the coop. Drawing his breath, Kane tensed up his legs and lunged. A set of fox claws flashed in the evening sun, swiping down at the defenceless bird as a sea of squawking feathers parted from between the chicken and fox. There was a loud squawk and a thump. Kane found himself down on his knees in the coop dirt with no chicken in his paws. He blinked and stared at his empty hands in disbelief for a while. He then turned his head and saw the plump brown bird trotting near the opposite corner of the coop. Taking a few more seconds to process what had just happened, Kane eventually got up and lunged at the bird again. There was more squawking and ruffling of feathers in the coop. And once more, the set of fox claws only found dirt. Kane got up and tried again. And again. And again. Each time, the chicken managed to evade his claws. After a while, the whole thing devolved into Kane frantically chasing the brown hen around the coop like a headless… Well, chicken. Despite its round frame and limited flight capability, the chicken was shockingly nimble and proved itself incredibly difficult to catch, almost humiliatingly so. The fact that there were dozens of its kin squawking and flapping their wings about as Kane chased it was hardly an assistance to the hungry fox. Kane became so absorbed in chasing his chosen prey that he failed to notice the pair of sturdy hooves angrily stomping their way towards him from the nearby tractor garage. “What the hell is going on in here?! What are you doing with my chickens?” Kane froze on his feet as he heard the low, mean voice from outside the coop. Holding the rest of his body perfectly still, he slowly turned his head towards the coop door, where he saw a tall, sturdy-bodied mule, standing with his arms crossed and a mean frown on his muzzle. He was wearing patched-up denim overalls and a pair of oil-stained gloves. His size alone was able to send a frightened shudder down Kane’s entire body as he was almost twice as tall as the snow-furred fox. “You better not be doing what I think you’re doing. And even if you’re not, I can’t come up with a good reason why you would be trespassing on someone else’s farm.” The mule grumbled, opening the coop door and stepping inside. “I-I u-uhhh…” Kane opened his muzzle to speak, only managing to squeak out in a very small voice. He could feel himself getting smaller and smaller with each weighty step the intimidating equine took towards him. “You’re going to regret trying to steal from me!” The mule grumbled, taking off his gloves as he approached the trembling vulpine. “I’ll show you what happens when you mess with a farmer’s property.” Looking up at the blazing eyes of the towering mule prompted Kane’s fight or flight reflex to kick in. And being the clearly inferior creature in terms of raw strength and size, his brain chose the latter option. Putting all of his faith into his tired legs and the wild amount of adrenaline pumping through his body, Kane made a break for it. He dipped towards the right and dashed past the mule, attempting to make a swift exit from the coop before the bigger anthro could react. Kane felt each beat of his heart in slow-motion as he cleared the distance to the coop door in half-a-dozen desperate steps, leaping over the small threshold with nearly two whole feet of air under his paws. For a brief second, he experienced the intoxicating rush of a successful escape and the immense relief of having fled immediate danger. But it was only for a brief second, for his magnificent leap was cut short while he was still in the air by a sturdy mule hand grasping his fluffy fox tail. The heavyset mule had been a lot quicker than Kane had thought. Kane yelped, losing his balance and faceplanting into the dirt just outside the coop. And he quickly found out he wasn’t the only one who had lost their balance when the overall-wearing equine came tumbling down on top of him, pinning him against the ground with all the courtesy of a speeding truck. Kane’s experience of time slowed down once more as the mule fell on his back, allowing him to feel how each part of his body was slowly enveloped, pinned, and crushed by the immense weight of the bigger animal. It felt like a big sack full of bricks had been slowly rolled over his body. Or, in actuality, dropped on top of him. And it was not a good feeling. The big equine body thumped against the ground, flattening Kane into a nice, furry pancake on impact. The air escaped from Kane’s lungs as they got squeezed like bellows by the enormous mass of the mule farmer’s robust torso, which left them with practically no room to re-inflate, even if their vulpine owner had been able to draw breath. Kane had never felt this kind of compression on any part of his anatomy. His joints, muscles, and bones all broke out in simultaneous, vehement protests against their current state, overloading Kane’s brain with signals of discomfort so fast he nearly had a panic attack. Well, he did, but not after desperately draining all his strength and adrenaline in the span of a few seconds, trying to struggle against the profound heaviness that now rested on top of him. All in vain, of course. He couldn’t move a muscle. “Got you, you little weasel! Think you could make a run for it, did you?” The mule grumbled, dragging himself fully out of the chicken coop and kicking the door shut with his hoof. For Kane, the sensation of sliding between rough dirt and denim, even if only a few inches, was unflattering to say the least. Kane was just about to start losing his consciousness when he felt a big, furry hand grab him by the right shoulder. The weight on top of him was lifted. His first reflex was to gasp for air. The re-entering of oxygen into his respiratory system was accompanied by the wild rush of endorphins from the crushing weight disappearing from most of his limbs. Suddenly, it felt like he was floating on a cloud. But then, reality came crashing down on the white fox, and as one could expect, it was heavy. Being only somewhat aware of his surroundings, Kane got swiftly flipped over onto his back. He found himself staring up at the evening sky. One of the mule’s robust legs was swung directly over his head. Shortly after, a dark equine tail appeared in his view. And not long after it, an enormous mule ass. Kane opened his mouth to either plead or protest what was going to happen, but didn’t manage to get a single syllable out from between his lips before the thick equine hindquarters were brought down on his chest. A dry wheeze left his muzzle instead, as his lungs were promptly emptied by the bigger animal’s substantial mass. His ribcage squeaked, and his spine popped as the overwhelming heaviness smushed him against the dirt without mercy. The dull, slowly accumulating pain began contorting the features of his muzzle while his paws desperately groped at the trunk-like mule thighs that restricted him from using his arms. “You’re lucky I left my shotgun inside the house.” The mule grumbled, grinding his denim-clad rear against Kane’s chest while the fox kicked his feet around helplessly. “Now you hold still while I call the sheriff… Where did I put that darn cellphone?” The mule began searching the many pockets of his overalls while Kane struggled to breathe. He kept on trying to gasp underneath the grandiose equine posterior, only ever managing to squeeze a small sliver of breathable air into his dangerously compressed respiratory system. The lack of oxygen hastened his descent into another fit of panic, prompting him to struggle even more vehemently against the insurmountable gravity of the bigger animal, which only drained his strength faster. “Feisty, are we?” The mule grumbled, shifting his weight slightly towards Kane’s head and rocking his hips, pounding the smaller anthro against the ground a few times until he finally toned down his struggling. The treatment – reminiscent of the motion and intensity of an industrial powerhammer – left the entire area of Kane’s torso aching. “That’s what I thought… You'd better get comfy down there, ‘cause my ass ain’t moving until law enforcement gets here. Now, where was I?” The mule continued searching for his phone, while his words echoed in Kane’s big, vulpine ears. “Law enforcement.” Kane’s chest tightened, and his body broke into an even bigger sweat than it already was when his dwindling mind registered the two words. His panic intensified. Summoning his last reserves of stubborn small animal strength, he tried pushing and showing the fat mule rump away from his chest. He wiggled and squirmed in the very limited capacity that the enormous equine load allowed him to. But it was all for nothing. The mule was simply too heavy. He could have weighed only half of what he did, and Kane still wouldn’t have been able to make his ass budge a single inch. “Have to admit… You’re a lot comfier than the seat of my tractor…” The mule chuckled, finally managing to fish the old cellphone from the pocket of his overalls. “There we go… Now what was Tom’s phone number again?” Kane felt himself growing weaker by the second as he continued his futile struggle against the mule and the impregnable gravity of his physique. But while a part of him knew his efforts to dislodge the mule rump from his chest would never amount to anything, there was another part of him that forced him to keep struggling. Getting crushed to as intense a degree as he was had justifiably activated Kane’s innermost survival instincts, as there was no denying that the load on his chest was an immediate danger to his well-being. He couldn’t breathe. His bones and joints felt like they were one or two wiggles of the fat mule posterior away from snapping. His torso had started to go numb from all the compression. It was safe to say that if he didn’t get out soon, this would be it for him. And yet, all he could think about was the mule potentially calling the police. The white fox didn’t quite know how he managed to speak, but he did. The words just barely wheezed out of him as he fought for his life, flattened against the ground by the equine anthro’s ass. “P-Please… N-No… P-police…” “Sorry. You lost your leverage for negotiation the moment I caught you in my chicken coop. That ship has sailed a long time ago.” The mule replied, tapping the side of his phone with his palm, visibly frustrated. “Why don’t these damn things ever work when you need ‘em to?” “P-Please… No… Police… I’ll… I’ll do… A-anything…” Kane wheezed out in sheer desperation, knowing he had just potentially wasted the last bit of air in his lungs to speak those words. “Pretty desperate of you to talk in that state… Are you some kind of fugitive or something? Well, at least you’re not in a prison-jumper, so you’re probably not a convict… Probably.” The tall equine muttered out loud, glancing at Kane over his shoulder and raising an eyebrow. His eyes assessed Kane coldly. “To be honest… Around these parts, we don’t much care for cops either. The sheriff we can tolerate, but anything from the bigger departments in the city, we can’t stand. Always enforcing some new regulation that make harder for us to do what we do… You said you’d do anything, didn’t you? For me to not call the cops?” “...Ye-ees…” Kane wheezed, starting to feel dizzy from not being able to breathe, as well as the ever-prominent body odor of the mule. There was at least half-a-day’s worth of sweat absorbed by the denim around his rump. “That so…” The mule muttered, rubbing his chin and eyeing the struggling fox some more. “You see, I could actually use an extra hand on the harvest. It’s just my missus and me out here, and we have plenty of field. And now that the tractor broke down, I’ll probably have to reap most of it the traditional way, and that will take a looooong time. If you’d agree to help me with it, I might just look the other way and let you go once the harvest is over. That sound like something you’d be interested in?” Kane nodded his head frantically as the adrenaline started wearing off, subjecting his body to an even greater amount of compression at an alarming speed. “I-I’ll h-help you… I will… J-just please…Get off me. You’re… Too heavy. I’ll die if you don't… If you don’t…” “Ah, don’t be dramatic down there. I once sat on one of my chickens, and she jumped up and walked away just fine. If they can take it, so can you. And if you didn’t want to get sat on, you shouldn’t have broken into my coop. But where were we…” Kane was dragged a few inches from side to side as the mule seemingly settled himself into a more comfortable position on top of him. “So… You agree to work for me for the harvest… That’s around two weeks, probably closer to four now that we don’t have the tractor for the work. And you will agree to do anything I ask regarding all the work. I don’t want to hear any complaints. None. You can sleep in the barn; it should be good enough for a scoundrel like you. I’ll give you three meals a day. I’ll bring you some breakfast to the barn, we’ll eat lunch in the field, and I’ll bring you leftovers from dinner into the barn. There’s some jerky in the smoker by the back wall if you need a snack, but I'd better not find the whole smoker empty by the time we’re done with the harvest… Lastly, I don’t want my wife to know that you’re here. She must not hear you, see you, or anything. She’s even less keen on strangers than I am. You’re actually lucky you didn’t go and knock on the door because she might have just used that shotgun I mentioned earlier. But if she does catch us working, you’re Henry’s – our neighbor’s – nephew. He’s a wolf, but since you’re both white-furred, she probably won’t make out the difference. Got it?” Kane nodded his head, being desperate enough to give up his tail or a leg if the mule just got off his chest. “Excellent! Then I guess I should show you your lodgings.” Kane gasped as the equine rear was lifted from his torso, allowing him to get his first proper breath in the past few minutes. He was completely exhausted, and his body ached from his neck down to his waist. And although the mule had already hiked his hindquarters off him, Kane could still feel a portion of their weight on him. Perhaps that was just because he had been flattened by them so thoroughly that it was taking his body some time to recover and return to its usual proportions. Who could say? “Can’t get up? Here, let me help you!” The mule promptly peeled the white vulpine of the ground, where a distinct, fox-shaped print remained after Kane was lifted. The grey equine tossed the fox over his left shoulder, carrying him like a pelt from a successful hunt, heading towards the white doors of the barn. … “Alright! I got another one bundled up! Hurry up and haul it to the cart!” Kane huffed, fixing the simple straw hat on his head and wiping some sweat off his furry forehead. He turned his muzzle, glancing at the overall-wearing mule who was standing next to another intimidatingly large sheaf, tapping his hoof on the ground, which had been scythed flat. “What’s the holdup? Come over and grab it!” “Yes, sir!” Kane replied, dropping the large scythe from his paws and hurriedly stepping his way towards the mule. Reaching the equine and the big bundle of wheat stalks, Kane hoisted the sheaf onto his shoulder with a groan, struggling to keep himself upright as the combined weight of hay and grains began to burden his small body. It was still somewhat difficult for him to believe how heavy one single sheaf could be. It was basically just grass, and yet one bundle seemed to weigh at least twenty pounds; some were even heavier. Of course, each sheaf was bound and packed to be carried by someone the size of a grown mule, not a puny little fox like Kane. But Kane knew he had no option to complain, nor did he dare ask the equine to make smaller bundles either. He was forced to just grit his teeth and get on with the task, as he had already done with a few dozen sheaves. Holding back some more groans, Kane walked onwards with shaky steps, heading for the old but sturdy-looking wood cart where all of the previous sheaves lay in a neat stack. Behind him, he heard the mule’s scythe slashing through more wheat. The sun was blazing down mercilessly onto the open field, toasting the ripe crops and the two lonely, anthropomorphic workers in overalls on it. The air smelled of dirt, dry hay, and mule sweat, the latter being the most prevalent in Kane’s nostrils. Huffing and puffing vigorously, Kane mustered up the strength in his upper body and painstakingly lifted the large sheaf onto the cart bed. Taking a few deep breaths to replenish his spent stamina, he glanced back towards the mule, already seeing him lower his scythe and start to gather another bundle for the fox to carry. A small whimper of disdain seeped out from Kane’s snowy muzzle. Kane and his equine supervisor – who had introduced himself as Joshua – had already been out on the field reaping for over four hours. They had basically been up and working ever since sunrise, which had come awfully quickly for the white fox who had slept off his exhaustion in the barn that night. He had slept like a log, having fallen asleep almost as soon as Joshua had tossed him into the vacant haypile substituting as his bed. Getting pinned and squashed by the big mule had left Kane with absolutely zero energy. Joshua wouldn’t have even needed to lock up the barn for the night, as Kane had been too tired to even entertain the thought of potentially escaping the farm. Given his abundant exhaustion, Kane had not been too keen on leaving to do field work at the crack of dawn. Yet, he and his sore muscles didn’t get a choice as Joshua practically handled him like a sack of potatoes, tossing the still drowsy fox onto his shoulder and carrying him outside before Kane had even fully wised up to what was going on. The next thing he knew, he was pulling a large cart and a pair of scythes and rakes into the field in Joshua’s hoofsteps. Before the two had gotten into work, he had been given a set of denim overalls and a worn strawhat, both of which were slightly too big for him to wear for obvious reasons. The fact that they suited him even slightly was an even bigger surprise, as Kane would have fully fit into one leg of Joshua’s overalls. Kane wondered if they were the mule’s old overalls, as they were quite worn and carried some of the mule’s incredibly distinctive equine odor. Then, for the next few hours, Kane had come to learn how grueling manual farmwork really was. He had been swinging his scythe, which was also fitted for a mule nearly thrice his size, almost nonstop, only ever getting a break from it to carry the sheaves Joshua made into the cart. And if he happened to dawdle or rest for even a little bit, he would get a stern command to keep going from his equine master. Kane’s throat was growing dangerously dry, and the work had begun taking its toll on his already sore muscles as well. And from what he could guess, his day in the field wasn’t even halfway over. Walking back to his scythe, Kane sluggishly picked it up and resumed reaping the tall crops, which yielded quite beautifully to the sharpness of the scythe. He only managed to swing the scythe a dozen times before he heard Joshua calling out to him again. “Another one!” Kane sighed, dropped his scythe, and began trotting his way to the mule. The sheaf was once again gargantuan compared to Kane’s size, but the fox didn’t dare to complain and began struggling the hefty thing onto his shoulders. Joshua took off his hat and wiped his brow with the back of his hand. He glanced up at the sun before putting the hat back on his head and fixing his gaze on Kane. “I think that’ll do for now. Let’s take a quick break before lunch. Got to remember to hydrate on days like these.” He grumbled, starting to walk towards the cart with heavy steps. A sigh of relief rolled off Kane’s tongue. Finally, some reprieve. Getting a small boost to his morale, Kane hurried after the bigger anthro, pushing onwards despite the wheaty burden on his back. Reaching the cart, Joshua promptly grabbed the sheaf from Kane, making the bundle of wheat look incredibly light as he tossed it onto the cart bed with only one hand. Kane moistened his tongue as the mule reached inside the cart and pulled out a gallon jug of water, surprisingly enough, offering it to the fox first. Kane grabbed the heavy container of liquid despite the weakness of his hands, twisted the cap open, and drank greedily. “Easy now! You’ll choke at that rate.” Joshua soon grunted, grabbing the jug from Kane after the fox had swallowed six mouthfuls of the refreshing liquid. “You finished?” Kane wiped the sides of his mouth, sucking the remaining water off his fur before nodding his head. “Good. Then get down on all fours. I need to sit down.” Kane blinked as if he had been hit over the head with a log. He looked up at Joshua with wide eyes, but could immediately see from the mule’s gaze that he wasn’t kidding. “Y-you’re not… You’re not planning on s-sitting on me, are you?” Kane asked nervously. His question was met with a loud snort from Joshua’s equine nostrils. “Where else would I sit?” Joshua asked, looking at Kane as if he had just asked something incredibly stupid. “Ummm… C-couldn’t you sit on the cart? If you don’t want to sit on the ground, that is.” “I can’t sit on the cart. It’s old. It will probably break if I sit on it.” Joshua shrugged, sounding slightly annoyed. What about me then? Kane felt like asking the question, but Joshua’s intimidating presence kept his muzzle shut. Picturing the sight of the big mule sitting on him like a bench sent shudders down Kane’s spine. But he knew he didn’t have any room to refuse the stallion. “Hurry up. On all fours.” Kane swallowed nervously, but obeyed the mule. As the bigger anthro’s large shadow loomed over him, he tried to convince himself that this was better than getting fully flattened underneath Joshua. A part of him believed it, a part of him didn’t. The muscles on his back started pre-emptively aching before Joshua had even started lowering his wide behind onto Kane. His body still remembered the tremendous gravity it had endured the previous day, and shuddered as Kane braced himself to be the bigger male’s seat. Holding onto the jug of water with one hand and fixing his overalls with the other, Joshua sat down. Although there wasn’t anything particularly hasty in him lowering his hindquarters, the sheer mass of his behind made the impact less than gentle for the unfortunate fox underneath them. Kane groaned past his gritted teeth as the stallion’s weight landed on his back. He was forced to lock his arms almost instantly to avoid falling flat on his face. As a result, his paws sank into the ground at least an inch as the heavy mule settled himself on his back, placing most of his ample mass directly onto Kane’s poor spine, which was quick to voice its discontent. Joshua was too heavy. A dry cough escaped Kane’s muzzle as the robust equine started wobbling and swaying about on top of him, seeking the most comfortable position for his wide posterior on the inadequately sized vulpine bench. The motion made the big animal’s weight even more excruciating, sliding it up and down along Kane’s spine, bending and kneading it like sourdough; an experience most spined creatures could attest to wasn’t incredibly comfortable. Kane huffed and puffed as the equine asscheeks ground his spine into a mighty arch, disturbing the delicate equilibrium his furry palms and knees painstakingly maintained on the uneven soil. Before he knew it, he was sweating harder than he had while working. “Mmrhh~ There we go… A bit small for a husky male such as myself, but otherwise not bad at all.” Joshua groaned, eventually finding the best spot on top of Kane’s lower back, which coincidentally exerted the most bend on the fox’s aching spine. Kane could only whimper as his limbs trembled under Joshua’s load. “By the way. I’m sure you kind of guessed this, but don’t you dare fall down while I’m up here. Sharon already chewed me out for getting the back of my overalls dirty last night from sitting on you. If you fall, I’m using your water from the next break to clean my overalls.” Joshua said menacingly, bringing the big jug up to his lips and starting to drink. Kane whined while his paws sank a bit further into the soil, fighting a noble yet futile battle against gravity, which was overwhelming his entire being from above. All of his remaining strength was gone in the blink of an eye, and the lactic acid struck his muscles like a tidal wave of small needles, trying to get him to yield to Joshua’s heaviness. Each second of Joshua’s drinking felt like a full minute for Kane: a minute of spine-bending, bone-busting, muscle-draining agony which could only be endured through stubborn grit. As much as his body wanted to collapse, Kane didn’t let it. He was afraid of what would happen if he let the mule rump fall on him with full force, even just the odd ten inches that separated his abdomen from the ground. He had to endure, even against his every other instinct. “Phew! Nothing beats some good old, plain water on a hot day like this.” Joshua sighed, lowering the almost empty gallon jug next to Kane. He gave no indication of getting up. “The sun’s really mean this time of year. It’ll just keep scorching nonstop throughout the day. Phew! I’m sweating like pork roast.” Kane looked down at his trembling arms, hearing the mule taking down the straps of his overalls. Soon enough, the sweaty denim that had been pressed against Joshua’s back swung down against Kane’s flank. The musky odor of a sweaty mule wasted no time in punching itself into Kane’s nostrils the very next second. “My balls are fucking baking in these overalls. If my fur didn’t get so damn dusty on the fields, I’d never wear ‘em… Fuck!” Joshua tugged on the denim around his crotch, swaying to and fro on Kane’s back while releasing some well-fermented mule ball musk from his trousers. The odor nearly knocked Kane out, deepening his difficulties in maintaining balance with the mule sitting on top. And with his body working overtime to maintain it’s bench-position, Kane had no choice but to huff the thick odor for all of its worth. Just as Kane was becoming certain that his spine was about to snap, Joshua groaned and stood up. “Well, can’t idle about for too long.” He sighed, stretching his arms while Kane happily collapsed onto the ground, each square inch of his body sore from carrying the mule on his back. “That goes for you, too. Don’t get comfortable down there.” Joshua grunted, tapping Kane with the side of his hoof. “I reckon we could get a few more hours of work in, and then we can eat.” Kane was too tired to respond. … The mule and fox continued reaping the field for two more hours. Although heavy work, scything the wheat and carrying sheaves was child’s play compared to being Joshua’s seat. But that didn’t mean that Kane didn’t feel the brunt of it all in his muscles, which could only recover so much under the near-constant stress of physical farmwork. The ever-increasing heat from the blazing sun only made things worse, driving Kane to exhaustion at a rate he had never experienced before. And throughout all of it, his nose was being tormented by Joshua’s aggressive body odor, which grew ever more enticing the longer Kane breathed it in. The only thing that really kept the fox going was the promise of the soon-to-be lunch, even though there was a small voice in the back of his head telling him to beware. And as it turned out, that small voice was absolutely right. As soon as Joshua had taken out the lunchbox packed by his wife, Kane had been commanded to get onto all fours. Having been intimidated to keep his protests to himself once more, Kane had surrendered himself as the big mule’s bench. There had been a lot of groaning, whimpering, panting, and trembling as Joshua had settled himself into place on Kane’s mightily slumping spine, pressing another set of paw and knee prints into the dirt of the wheatfield. Kane had struggled to hold up the mule even more than the previous time, partially due to his severely sapped strength but also because Joshua was a lot more restless this time around. The sturdy equine only stayed in the same spot for ten seconds tops, constantly shifting his position on the very narrow strip of vulpine back his meaty posterior had to sit on, thus forcing Kane to compensate for each correction with his muscles. It was as exhausting as it was painful. It was a sheer miracle that Kane didn’t crumble underneath Joshua. The only saving grace for the white fox was the fact that Joshua was a quick eater and didn’t spend too much time on Kane’s back, although one could easily consider anything upwards of a single second to be too much. And however short the sitting session might have been, Kane still reckoned it was enough to deform his spine permanently. Enjoying his lunch with an achy back and arms, Kane had been quickly prodded back into work. He spent the next three hours stacking sheaves into the cart until it seemed like there was no way to fit any more wheat onto its bed. “That should about do it. Not a bad haul for the day.” Joshua sighed, walking next to the chock-full cart where Kane was catching his breath. “Now we’ll just take it all into the barn to dry.” Kane wiped his forehead while the mule slipped the two scythes in between the shaves, digging out the old leather reins from the bottom of the cart and tossing them onto the ground. The tired fox had a bad hunch about who would be doing the pulling. Yet, the reality of it revealed itself to be even worse. “You can go ahead and strap that harness on. After that, I think you know what to do.” Joshua muttered, pointing his index finger at the ground. Kane processed the gesture for a few seconds, feeling his heart sinking when it eventually clicked for him. “Y-y-you aren’t intend-ding to… R-ride me back to the f-farm?” He asked in a mixture of panic and disbelief. “Of course. You know, crouching up and down the entire day takes a toll on one’s knees. And as much as I hate to admit it, I ain’t a young stallion anymore. I’ve got to take care of myself. Give my legs some rest after a hard day.” Joshua explained, fixing his overalls and staring down at Kane in a menacing manner. “C-could you not just sit on the cart instead of on me?” Kane stuttered, casting a pleading look up at the towering equine. “Does it look like there’s any room for me on the cart? And as I said, that thing is old. There’s a good chance it would break if someone like me sat on top of it. And if that happens, we would have to haul all the wheat back to the barn on foot, and that would take months.” Kane whined, feeling the weight of defeat on his shoulders as he picked up the leather harness and sluggishly tied it onto his shoulders. His back was begging him not to get down on all fours again, but he did so anyway, dreading the heavy sensation of mule buttocks which would surely soon return to torment his feeble physique. A panicked bark left Kane’s lips as the equine anthro seated himself on top of the white fox, this time positioning his rump perpendicularly with the smaller animal’s spine, mounting him like a proper steed. His weight was way more concentrated in this kind of orientation, no longer splitting evenly along the length of Kane’s back and instead pinpointing on a few, unlucky vertebrae of his squeaky fox skeleton. The weight was nothing short of crushing. With Joshua’s buttocks basically resting on his shoulders, Kane’s arms started giving up before he had even taken a single step. They buckled at his elbows almost as soon as the mule had settled in place, forcing him to push and struggle to keep his chest from touching the ground with all he had. Kane had never thought he could manage a pushup with nearly four hundred pounds of equine on his back, but he somehow did it anyway. By the end of it, the exhaustion hit him like a warm gust of wind, making his body feel hot and start sweating from the flip of a switch. “Whoa there! Let’s not fall down just yet. We haven’t even moved a single inch.” Joshua chuckled, tugging on Kane’s reins while his rump slowly slipped downwards, onto the fox’s lower back, where the heavy dip of the vulpine spine beckoned it. Kane felt his spine popping multiple times as the equine ass got dragged down along his fur, instantly consuming all the adrenaline to fight back against the oppressive gravity of Joshua’s mass. He was already struggling to breathe. “Hmmm… Maybe it’s better if I sit here. Feels like a more natural spot.” Joshua muttered, giving his rear a gentle wiggle, which of course caused unimaginable agony for Kane, whose spine was wrung from side to side in the process. “Now, giddy up! The Blackmanes' game starts in twenty minutes. I want to get this wheat in the barn before that.” Voicing a whimper of anguish and defeat, Kane began his slow crawl towards the farm, which could be seen in the distance. The journey was pure misery for Kane, who not only had to carry the devastating mass of Joshua’s robust body on his back, but also had to drag nearly the same weight behind him in the large tower of golden wheat rocking on top of the old wagon. Drool and sweat dripped down his chin as he clamped his jaws against the brass bit of the reins, crawling forwards at the pace of a slug in the soft dirt of the wheatfield while the steady swaying of the gargantuan mule ass weaved his spine into spaghetti. It was a whole different flavor of agony compared to merely being the big equine’s unmoving seat. Each raise of a paw was an incredibly risky gamble between a nasty tumble and maintaining one’s balance. Each travelled inch was the result of a herculean effort and sheer stubbornness, as Kane refused to let himself fall despite being at the end of his endurance. The fear of a potential stumble and its consequences was mostly what kept the small fox going. Lulling himself in the monotony of the oppressive weight sitting on top of him and dragging behind him, he continued his agonizing crawl towards the distant farmstead. All the while, Joshua slowly but surely ground his body down, bouncing and wobbling about as the mule compensated for the frequent swaying and staggering of his vulpine mount. Kane came close to passing out multiple times, but somehow made it back to the farm. He had no idea how he endured balancing the giant mule on his back for such a long time. Once he eventually collapsed onto the farmyard, sweaty and utterly exhausted, he was certain that half of his whole skeleton had been bent and curved completely out of shape. He was also quite sure he heard a crack from his spine or his ribs as he thumped down, but was too exhausted to care. “See! I told you you could make it!” Joshua grunted, taking his sweet time getting up from the fox he had flattened underneath him. “You could have been a bit more graceful with the landing, but since it’s your first day, I’ll let it slide.” Kane lay on the ground, wheezing air in and out of his lungs while the entirety of his musculature felt like it was being pricked with needles. He was too tired to move a muscle. Even blinking his eyes felt like a tremendous effort. At that moment, he was content simply to exist as a fox-shaped rag of white fur, enjoying the bliss of not having hundreds of pounds of weight crushing him. And luckily enough, Joshua didn’t seem to need any extra help hauling the cart inside the stable. Kane was unsure how much time had passed exactly when he felt his body being picked up by the mule. He stayed completely limp as the bigger anthro yanked him up and slung him over his shoulder like a wet towel. His nose pressed up against Joshua’s fur, and the thick odor of a sweaty mule returned to hinder his breathing. “That should do it. An honest day’s work. Now let’s relax by watching some football. The Blackmanes’ game should have just about started.” Joshua declared, starting to stomp his way across the yard towards the house. “Now remember what I said. We can’t let the missus know that you’re here. So do not make a single peep. By the smell of things, she’s busy cooking dinner, which should keep her somewhat occupied while we watch the game. But still. If you make a sound, I will make sure to silence you any way I see fit. Got it?” Kane voiced a soft whimper in agreement. The scent of cooking food revitalized Kane to some degree as Joshua climbed the few steps up to the front door of his house, which opened with a loud creak when the grey equine tugged it. Once Joshua had stepped over the threshold, he voiced a small grunt and sluggishly took off his overalls, hanging them on a rusty hook on the wall next to the doorway. Now the scent of cooking food was competing for attention with even more mule sweat. “Honey, I’m home!” Joshua bellowed, carefully peeking his head inside the living room as Kane still hung on his shoulder. “Welcome back, hun!” A female voice replied from somewhere deeper inside the house. “Did you have a hard day?” “It was a bit more arduous than usual without the tractor, but I managed.” As he spoke, Joshua slowly snuck inside the cozy farmhouse living room. But just as could be expected from someone of his size, he didn’t manage to be too subtle in his sneaking. He hadn’t walked more than four steps into the living room before another set of hoofsteps was to be heard echoing around the house. The mule ended up tossing the limp fox onto the old leather couch from nearly ten feet away as he hurried to hide Kane’s presence from his approaching wife. Luckily, he had good aim, and Kane landed somewhat softly on top of the couch cushions, disappearing from view just in time. “It will take another 45 minutes for the stew to be done… Goodness Joshua! Did I not tell you to wear some pants around the house?” The female voice complained. Kane could also hear a metal ladle tapping against what he assumed to be a doorframe. “I have been stewing in those damn overalls for the whole day, Sharon. At least let me air out my arse a bit before dinner.” Joshua retorted, quickly shifting into a bit more playful tone of voice. “Besides… You love my man-stench.” There was a sigh, but soon after a soft chuckle as well. “I do, but I would prefer if the whole house didn’t stink like your sweaty ass.” “Why? Are we expecting guests?” Joshua chuckled, slowly stepping his way next to the couch and picking up a remote from a nearby coffee table. “No… But it speaks ill of the lady of the house if the house smells uncomely. You know I like keeping up appearances, even if we’re not exactly high-society material.” “I do, honey, I do. I’ll take a shower as soon as I’m done watching the game. The Blackmanes are playing in the playoffs for the first time in three years, you know I can’t miss that.” As he replied, Joshua turned on the television, which began displaying what was undoubtedly a football broadcast. “Oh, you boys and your sports… I take it you would like a beer?” “Huh? Not only are you pretty, but you’re also sharp. I was lucky to marry you.” There was a giggle, after which the hoofsteps slowly disappeared back into the depths of the house. “Alright! Let’s watch the game! Go Blackmanes!” Still thoroughly exhausted, Kane mustered up some strength to turn his head towards the TV. But instead of the broadcast, he got a full view of Joshua’s bare ass, which was being lowered on top of him yet again. He wanted to yelp but couldn’t, even less so when the equine buttocks eventually pressed down on his back, squeezing his lungs empty. The weight was excruciating, and Kane’s tired muscles moaned in agony as the little fox got himself crushed by the naked mule’s sweaty behind. The couch cushions had more give than the hard ground, but that didn’t exactly improve things for the squashed vulpine. The lack of a firm counterpart for Joshua’s meaty ass meant that Kane’s back was allowed to bend in all sorts of uncomfortable ways at the whims of the equine. It somehow combined the worst parts of being fully flattened and being used as a bench; the sensation of being crushed against something, and not having anything to prevent weight-induced skeletal deformation. The material of the cushions – aged leather – was also suboptimal to say the least. Both the moisture of Joshua’s sweat and his ample bodyheat bounced off its surface with almost full intensity, forcing them both to get absorbed by the only possible material present: Kane’s fur. Being assaulted with a full monsoon of mule sweat made things even more uncomfortable for the fox. “Ahh~ There we go.” Joshua groaned, grinding his butt against Kane while scratching his balls. “Nothing like a little bit of football after work…” Kane whined and gasped for air. “Shit! Quiet down. My wife’s coming back!” Kane twitched as the big mule’s hand – the very same hand which had just been scratching the equine’s balls – grasped his muzzle and squeezed it shut as hoofsteps approached the couch. The scent of the thick mule fingers sent him to dizzyland in an express bundle. “Oh, right! Phil called earlier. He can’t make it with spare parts to fix the tractor until next Wednesday.” The female voice spoke, coming dangerously close to the couch. “I figured. Looks like it will be a good nine days of scything for me then.” Joshua shrugged, accepting a bottle of beer and giving the bovine muzzle that appeared over the backrest a quick kiss. “Thanks honey. Love you.” The hoofsteps echoed around the living room for a few seconds before fading away into the doorway, which presumably led to the kitchen. Joshua blew some air out of his nostrils and took a sip of the beer he had been brought. “That was a close one. Make sure to keep it down, or we’ll get caught. She’s got hell of a hearing that woman. She can hear me taking a piss behind the barn from all the way over here in the living room.” Joshua grumbled under his breath, increasing the volume of the football broadcast as he did. Kane gasped with a dry wheeze as the ball-sweat-drenched hand was removed from the proximity of his nose, which continued to tingle for almost thirty seconds after the intrusive odor had disappeared. The following fifteen minutes were a period of intermittent anguish for Kan,e who was forced to endure the weight and scent of Joshua’s equine hindquarters to the fluctuating tune of the playoff football broadcast. His body was never fully allowed to adjust to the gigantic load that was placed on it due to Joshua’s near-constant movement on top of him. Jolts of pain struck his body in various places from his shoulders down to his hips as the bigger anthro shifted the weight of his body, leaning to and from the backrest depending on the intensity of the game or simply adjusting his position. Kane was ground deeper and deeper into the couch cushions the more time passed, and the bend exerted onto his limbs and spine increased in unison. And all the small fox could do was to try and fill up his lungs as he was too tired to do anything else against the overpowering mass of the animal sitting on him. “Come on! Pass it! Pass it! Thirty-eight is open! He’s open! Pass it! Yes!” Joshua almost jumped up from the couch, elevating his ass some seven inches before slamming it back onto Kane, prompting a couple of unhealthy-sounding cracks from the smaller male’s feeble physique. The sudden butt-slam also prompted Kane to produce a sharp, high-pitched whimper, almost like a squeaky toy. “What was that noise?” The voice of Joshua’s wife echoed over into the living room. “Nothing, honey! I think it was just these couch springs squeaking.” Joshua replied promptly, covering Kane’s muzzle with his palm again. “Perhaps you were right in nagging me to get a new couch already. Maybe we ought to get one after the harvest is done.” “Are you sure? That didn’t sound like a couch spring to me.” “What else could it be? That is exactly what an old, rusty spring is supposed to sound like.” “Alright! If you say so!” Kane felt a shiver traveling up and down along his spine as the sturdy mule slowly turned his big, mean muzzle towards him. The small fox knew that he had fucked up big time in letting out such a sound. Now he could only dread what the equine would do in response. “Haaaahh~ And here I thought I had made myself clear,” Joshua muttered, shaking his head. “I told you not to make any unnecessary noises. It’s only the first day. We can’t have my wife getting suspicious already… I'd better make sure you stay quiet for the remainder of the game.” Kane gasped as Joshua’s weight temporarily disappeared from his torso. But as divine as his burdenless back felt in the absence of the meaty mule buttocks, the flattened fox knew not to get excited. If anything, he only felt more dread; justifiable dread as Joshua’s strong hands quickly grasped onto his limp body. Joshua peeled the fox with matted, white fur off the couch cushions and promptly flipped him over. Looking up at the ceiling of the old farmhouse, Kane watched his perspective take a sharp, ninety-degree turn. His legs were pulled up against the backrest of the couch which left his furry fox head almost directly beneath Joshua’s equine rear-end, which hovered some six inches above Kane’s muzzle. It didn’t take a genius to guess what the mule was up to. The horror of it all struck Kane at slight delay, injecting his body with enough adrenaline for him to open up his muzzle and move his arms. “W-wait!” Kane managed to stutter before the magnificent mule posterior was brought down on top of his face, and his muzzle got swallowed up by the big equine’s sweaty crease. The world around him turned dark, hot, and oppressive. “That oughta do it! You could scream your lungs out, and it wouldn’t leak out from underneath my ass.” Joshua chuckled, slapping his right cheek before turning up the game once more. Kane feebly moved his muzzle around in the firm, oppressive squeeze of Joshua’s seatbuster. His head was being compressed from all sides by hundreds of pounds of equine meat in the most discomfort-inducing way possible. It felt like Joshua’s ass was out to mold his whole head into a different shape. Kane feared to think what would have happened if the big mule had flexed his sizable glutes, as they certainly packed enough muscle to crack his skull. Fighting off the increasingly offensive scent of Joshua’s sweaty taint, Kane dragged his muzzle back and forth, even wedging it deeper into the furry crease in hopes of finding some sort of pocket where his snout would be squeezed less. The effort required him to utilize the entirety of his upper body from his neck and head to his arms, shoulders, and chest, as the heavy mule cheeks would refuse to shift otherwise. And still, the process was difficult and incredibly draining. And as if things weren’t already bad enough, Kane soon realized that he couldn’t breathe. At all. Or he could, but the air that entered his lungs was so chock full of mule scent it barely contained any oxygen, so even the little bit that he managed to inhale with his flattened face and compressed muzzle ended up not being enough. It might have actually even hindered his troubled breathing as Joshua’s pungent odor now occupied the majority of his lungs. The realization that he was actively choking under the humid mule butt caused the small vulpine to panic. He started to squirm and writhe to the extent that he could, battling against the insurmountable mass of the equine farmer with distressed desperation. He grasped at the equine buttocks with his paws and dug his heels into the backrest, trying to wrestle Joshua’s ass off from his face by using his waist. The mule didn’t budge. He tried again, this time with slightly more desperation and less regard for his own bodily limits. The results were no different. Kane kicked his feet and tried pushing the mule rump directly up, if not to move it, then to at least allow some fresh air to circulate in the suffocating crease. He was unsuccessful yet again. And now, he had exhausted almost all the upper-body strength he had had left. Left with no other option, Kane began writhing and slithering deeper between the couch and mule mounds, trying to squeeze his muzzle out from the other side. He clawed and shoved himself forward in the unforgiving darkness and unyielding walls of equine meat, following the ever-narrowing canal in between the giant mule cheeks. The back of his head dragged against the sweaty couch cushions as Joshua’s mass gradually shifted lower, towards his chest, and his gasping muzzle burrowed deeper and deeper. Kane struggled onwards, even as his consciousness and strength began to wane dangerously. Kane was just on the verge of fainting in the middle of his desperate quest when a different, sharper aroma abruptly struck his nose. Despite being muzzle-wrinklingly pungent, the odor revitalized Kane a little bit, and then even more when he recognized it. The scent was that of Joshua’s testicles. His big, sweaty farmer balls that rested on the old leather couch. And the fact that Kane could smell them meant that his muzzle was almost out. The exhausted, out-of-breath fox made one final push for it, fighting tooth and claw for his escape. Sapping every single ounce of strength he had left in his aching body, he shoved his muzzle forward, just barely managing to squeeze it out from under Joshua’s scrotum. Just the very tip of his nose made it past the pair of equine breeding boulders. Kane greedily breathed the air ripe with Joshua’s ball musk, but most importantly, oxygen. A few more seconds, and he would have blacked out for sure. “Oh! Look at that! There’s a fox nose poking out from under my balls.” Feeling the surprisingly heavy testicles being lifted from his chin, Kane opened his mouth and took big breaths, forgetting for a few blissful moments that most of his upper body was still being sat on by the behemoth of a mule. “I have to say… Your head is surprisingly comfortable to sit on. Nicely soaks up all the sweat from my ass as well. It was like you were made to be a mule butt-cushion. Is that something all you foxes are good at, or is that just you?” Joshua chuckled, leaning himself deeper onto the couch and grinding his rump against Kane, dragging his upper body around in a tight circle. A soft whimper slipped out from Kane’s maw before the big mule testes were dropped back onto his chin. “Perhaps after I get the tractor fixed up, I’ll keep you around for the rest of the harvest for some much-needed cushioning on that seat. It’s always one hell of a bumpy ride reaping the southern fields since there are so many rocks. Having an extra pillow under my arse would improve the experience, no doubt.” The mental image of being stuck between Joshua’s fat rump and a violently rattling tractor seat was enough to make Kane’s back ache and his body to be overcome with exhaustion. His whole day had been nothing but backache and exhaustion, struggling under the immense burden of the big mule. He could only wonder what parts of his skeleton had been bent beyond repair already and how sore his body would be the following morning. All he could do now was pray for the time that he would be tossed into the haypile in the barn for his night’s sleep. And even that small solace was at least half a football game away from him.