FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

You notice it the second you walk into the shower, sweaty and tired from your session in the gym. It's steamy, but only a couple of the showers are running. The men under the shower look away as you enter. And there are more men than you would expect. A lot more, big, heavily muscled men, looming out of the steam. They all seem to be facing the end, patiently waiting for something.

The sight of them makes something twitch deep in your stomach. Adrenaline floods your body, flushing the fatigue poisons from your system. There's something at the end of the crowd. Something very important. You know you have to reach it, although you don't know why.

There are sounds coming from beyond the crowd, soft, wet, organic sounds.

Though they appear to be queueing for their turn, they step aside as you walk through them, and move back into position once you have passed. They are all so much larger than you, despite your regular workouts, all at least half a foot taller, and most over a foot above you. The men are of species that are stereotypically big, bulls, lions, dinosaurs, wolves, fur damp and clingy while scales shine and glisten from the water. Their muscles bulge and ripple as they move, and you suddenly have the impression of the sheer physical power that surrounds you, the fact that if they chose to grab you, there is nothing that you could do to resist just one of them, let alone however many are hidden in the mists.

But the do not touch you, and simply let you pass. Some glance at you, but then their eyes flick away, pretending you are not there. That you are not a person.

The sounds become clearer as you move forwards. It's sex. It has to be. Nothing else could produce that rhythmic, wet slapping and sucking. There are two people having sex right here, in the showers of the gym, with all these men watching.

As the last few men step aside, you see who the noise is coming from. A bench is set in the wall, and sat on it is a large horse, his dappled coat shining, and sitting on his lap is the first man in here who is not a muscle bound stud: a slim, yellow furred dog, his body twisting and writhing as he raises and lowers himself. The fur of his buttocks and the back of his legs is matted with semen. More white has spilled out of his mouth to drool on his chest, and spurts have left trails all over his face.

How long has he been there, to have so many men leave their cum on him? You mind tries to estimate how many orgasms he must have caused, and then you notice just how fast your heart is beating, how rushed your breaths are, how dry your mouth is.

You lick you lips, and then say, to no-one in particular, "Is he..."

You trail off. You don't even know what you wanted to say. But there will be an answer: a presence is standing right behind you, something massively masculine, like the combined testosterone of all the men in the room. A deep voice speaks, way above your head. "...Enjoying himself? Oh, yes. Look."

He doesn't point, but you can tell what he's talking about. The dog's member standing up hard and slapping back and forth on his slim, toned stomach, droplets of pre spattering up over his naval. How long has he been that horny? He must be so desperate to cum. You know you would be, in his situation. Perhaps you should help him.

Where did that though come from?

Are you the kind of person who just joins in when you randomly find two men having sex in the shower? You didn't think so, but now that you can see that engorged, pulsating, needy cock, something inside you disagrees.

"That's right. Why don't you help him out?"

The cock is much bigger now. That's because you're on your knees, your head between the dog's legs, your mouth open. Trying to convince yourself that this is a bad idea.

Then a small whimper makes you look up. He's now looking down at you, his expression pleading and begging. That's all you need, really, to justify your tongue licking out over the tip of his dick. Your mouth opening to take in the head. Your head bobbing back and forth.

A hand gently strokes the back of your head, and the same voice says, "That's right. Doesn't it feel good to suck?"

It does. The thick, salty taste is wonderful. You love the way he throbs and jerks in your mouth. The way he looks down at you, so grateful.

Then those hands reach around your hips and lift you up so that you are bent over at the waist. There's something pressed against you, in the cleft between your buttocks. Something round and fleshy and hard. "Do you know what else feels good?"

Oh god, he's going to stick it into you.

As if responding to your thought, the dog gasps and twitches. His cock pulses with the promise of cum, and then it floods your mouth. You try to swallow it down, or just hold it in your mouth, but thick stringy ropes spill out around the shaft. After a few seconds, you are choking and have to pull back, letting the pent up orgasm fill your mouth.

"That's just what we need, isn't it?"

The hands behind you reach up to your mouth, scraping the semen from your neck and squeezing your cheeks so that the mixture of his cum and you saliva is collected. You can feel the big man behind you dribble it into the crack of you ass. He works is between your buttocks, teasing your hole an making sure it's fully lubricated.

Meanwhile the dog has gone back to bouncing on the horse's shaft, his own softening. He look thankful, and a little apologetic. Why is that? What man wouldn't want to be where you are, being guided to turn and face out by the presence behind you?

Oh, yes. Most men.

The man behind you sits. His dick isn't long enough to reach your asshole where you stand, so he positions you, bending your knees slightly so that the very tip of his penis brushes against your ring. With one hand, he holds his length in place so that it will not move out of the way when you lower yourself. And then...

Nothing.

He doesn't pull you down. He doesn't thrust up into you. No, he just waits. It's a couple of seconds before you realise that you're going to have to impale yourself on him. You can't hold your legs the way they are bent, not forever, so sitting is your only option. Either that, or stand and walk away, and that is not a real option for you. Not now.

So you let your knees give a little, and feel your hole stretch around the invading masculinity. It slides up into you, and you feel each throb inside you making your whole body twitch in sympathy. And then it hits something inside you, something that makes your every muscle spasm, and your eyes roll back in your head - your prostate? Your innate desire to be treated as a fucktoy by stronger men? Or is it the last vestige of your own masculinity, being battered into submission by that dick?

It doesn't matter, the result is the same. Your legs can't, don't want to hold you up, and give in, driving his cock further up into you. A guttural squeal erupts from your mouth for a second, before it is cut off by something thick and fleshy entering the fuck hole in your face. The thick, salty, and above all masculine taste makes you drool and slobber over the tip, sucking down more of his pre, licking more of the length into your mouth.

There's a satisfied grunt from above. You pause, and glance up. The bull smiles and pats you on the head in a patronising way. Still, you can't help the corners of your mouth twitch up, and you focus on sucking as the horse begins to pump up into you.

You don't bother to look at the dog beside you. He's finished fucking the guy beside you now, and pulls himself up. He's unsteady on his feet, cum splattered all over his fur, but he's smiling. He leans down to stroke your cheek (bulging with cock), and whispers in your ear, "Hey, I know you didn't ask to be here, or really get a chance to say no, but I know you'll enjoy it as much as I did. I'm sure you'll get out soon enough."

With that, he staggers off, leaving you alone with the horde of horny hyper masculine men. You don't care, though, all you care about is the cock in your mouth and in your ass. And you won't care for quite a while.