FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

"Are you sure about this?" Aine asked a little timidly. Considering she sat alluringly on the bed wearing nothing but a pair of provocative high heels, the tone didn't suit her much.

The girl sitting on the edge of the bed was as lovely as her Irish accent. The russet fox had white fur across her face, running down her throat and over her pert, bare breasts. The white fur continued down her belly, forming a V-shape down into her crotch and spreading down her inner thighs down to her knees.

Her long locks of ginger-red hair fell in waves down past her shoulders with a few loose strands making a point to frame her face. The eyeliner and mascara brushing back her long eyelashes framed her gorgeous emerald green eyes.

"Don't worry," Michael mumbled with an air of nervousness. The equine was undressed as she was as he finished setting up the camera on the tripod and walked over to where she sat.

He was tall enough that his throbbing erection hung at roughly her face's height when he got close enough.

Tenderly he scooted closer to Aine and cupped her face in one hand. "This'll be fun. Trust me. You trust me, don't you?"

Aine smiled then nodded and opened her mouth a little, sticking out her tongue. It was a sight the horse couldn't resist.

With his girth barely fitting in his own hand he guided the head to her lips, and the vixen giggled as she teasingly snapped her muzzle shut. He harrumphed playfully, and Aine rewarded his sense of humour by giving the flared top a loving kiss. Slowly she opened up, running her tongue across the flare, then turned her head to one side and lapped up and down the sensitive underside of the shaft.

His voice was soft as he muttered something about her being a 'good girl' while she worked her way to the tip again and suckled.

Despite the equine's size, the cock slid into Aine's muzzle and she accepted it all the way to the back of her throat with barely a retch; like she was born to do exactly this.

...

The image froze for a second and three dots circled while the video buffered some more. It just gave her a few seconds of pause to comprehend the shock she was experiencing. It was unlike anything she'd ever experienced. Nothing could have prepared her for it.

With her laptop on the desk in front of her, staring at the screen with a hand clasped over her mouth was the girl from the video - Aine. A little older. A little wiser.

Three months older, in fact, and now she was altogether too wise of the internet's dark underbelly for her own liking. She knew she shouldn't have, but she couldn't help herself and let her gaze be carried downwards to the comments posted under the video.

Stewbk2010 : "I fuk her moth 4 days"

Drkdrgrl : "Get ready to be fucked like a grown whore, little one."

Hail2theking666 : "What a cum hungry slut. I bet that leprechaun pussy is tight as fuck."

4ssdstroyr : "Want to rape the fucking shit outta her for weeks on end. She got an address?"

Sl00ttrainr : "She was born to suck cock!"

There were rows upon rows of comments, hundreds of them even, and the further down she went the darker and more grotesque they became. By the time she scrolled back up the video was coming to a close.

She was looking sideways at the camera, laying on her back, her legs open wide with the pointed heels of her shoes directed at the ceiling and moaning like a shameless slut. Michael thrusted in and out of her a few times as she was reduced to a shuddering, wet orgasm before he pulled out and circled her soundlessly around the edge of the bed. Kneeling beside her face he grabbed her by the wrist and encouraged her slender fingers around his cock before she jerked him a few times. Just until a stream of cum exploded across her face.

She remembered the moment. A brief second of dazed anticipation, then shock as the warm streams of thick white cum draped across her the top of her muzzle and a few salty drips worked their way past her lips. And finally a complete lapse of sound judgement in the glittering aftermath of her orgasm Aine scooped up the horse's cum with one finger and popped it into her mouth with a husky moan.

She felt sick watching the memory played out before her eyes, and the prying eyes of everyone else on the world wide web.

And there wasn't just the video. Accompanying it were several pictures as well, at least a dozen. She was nude in all of them, just wearing her pretty smile and a pair of high heels, the same pair sitting in the bottom of her wardrobe just across the room.

It took her the better part of an hour just to turn away from her computer. It took the same amount of time to realise why this was happening and what she ought to do about it.

Aine had very little to go on concerning the source. Just a sub literate anonymous catcall with a link that led to a publically viewable video capturing every second of her misguided passion in glorious HD. But she knew this was Michael's doing. It had been his idea to film them. His camera. And this was his revenge for her breaking up with him a few weeks ago.

So she went through all the tedium of calling to the Gardai, meeting with an officer to give a statement, then following up with a detective before being referred to the cyber-crimes unit in Dublin. It was a two-hour bus ride away, but for Aine the trip felt worth it.

Before she knew it days had passed and a detective in the cyber-crimes unit contacted her, where she insisted on travelling over and meeting with him, preferring not to discuss specifics on the phone. She felt almost betrayed by technology she'd come to admire over the past few years. She used her phone and laptop less and less. She stopped taking pictures and selfies altogether.

Within those few days she went digital cold-turkey.

Calling into the office building from which the cyber-crimes unit operated though, Aine quickly wished she had just gotten this call out of the way over the phone, judging by the detective's expression alone.

When they'd first met and spoken, the detective looked at her with kindness, like a poor girl who had been through too much already. Now the male fox looked sullen, sad and considered her with badly concealed pity. It was like reviewing her case had changed his opinion of her. Maybe he had seen her video. Maybe he secretly thought she deserved this for being a carefree, shameless hussy.

"Miss McGloughlin," the detective greeted, sitting her down in the lobby and holding a stack of what he assumed were the notes for her case close to his chest. "We've reviewed the case and I've brought the whole team in on it."

It sounded good. In reality, it really wasn't.

"Unfortunately this has been a difficult one," he continued to say. "We spoke with your ex-boyfriend, and he claims he had nothing to do with uploading your... err... video and pictures, to that website. He claims his computer was hacked, and that the material must have been stolen."

"He's lying," Aine blurted out and the detective gestured her to remain calm.

"Perhaps he is, but there's no way of knowing for sure with circumstances being as they are. I'm afraid the only way to catch him out is to search his computer. But the only way we can do that lawfully is with a warrant. And considering who Michael's parents are, the judges I've gone to haven't been willing to sign off on a warrant based on motive alone."

Aine hung her head and raked her nails through her scalp. This was becoming a nightmare, and the bad news just kept rolling in.

"Also... within the power of the law, even if Michael posted the video and images, posting revenge porn is not punishable by Irish law. If we gathered evidence we might have caught him on online harassment charges, but that would just be a slap on the wrist. And he wouldn't be obliged to remove the material from online viewing."

No, this wasn't just a nightmare anymore. It was turning into something worse.

"I'm sorry, Miss McGloughlin. There's nothing we can do."

Aine nodded and thanked the police for their help. She left, the patter of rain on her hood muted as she wandered like a zombie to the bus station.

As she went the paranoia of walking into someone who would recognise her. And not in the normal way, like recognising her from school, or some old neighbourhood she would have lived in at some point. she caught several people glance her way as she passed and pulled her hood lower to hide her face, wondering if they'd seen the video. Seen her act like the whore she now felt like. Wondering if they were looking and smiling because they knew exactly what she was hiding under her raincoat.

Before Aine knew it she broke into a run. She splashed through puddles and soaked herself, but didn't care. More people looked her way and she hoped the rain would hide her tears.

She reached the bus stop just as the bus that would take her home pulled up. She boarded, last in the queue and found a seat alone near the back. She didn't bother pulling her head down and huddled up against a partially steamed up window, staring at the grim streets outside as they blurred by.

Turning her head she saw one of the passengers looking at her. The boy was about her age, fairly good looking even. A fox, his short hair was dyed bright green, likely something he'd done for Paddy's Day and was now stuck with it. He cocked his head slightly to spot her face and grinned, giving her a 'what's up? sort of nod.

Before all of this she would have returned the boy's confident smile. If she were single she might even have truck up conversation; asked about the crazy hairdo. But now?

Aine pulled her hood slightly lower to hide her face and straight up cold-shouldered him. She had no idea if he was interested because she was pretty, or maybe he'd seen the revenge porn. She couldn't trust anyone anymore!

This ordeal had broken her. Changed her. How could things possibly get worse?

Aine immediately regretted asking when she pulled out her laptop and pressed the power button.

The computer didn't do anything. She hit the power button a few more times. Still nothing. Frustrated she slammed the screen down and threw the device back into her bag. Now she had this shit to deal with as well!?

Little did she know, this latest annoyance would be her first step on the path to salvation.

---

---

The small country town where Aine lived had all the shops and services packed on the single main-street - wherever there was space between the twelve pubs. Specialised services, like the web designers, marketing consultants and the computer repair shop were just off the main street in the community business centre, a relatively modern building considering the town's very old roots.

A new-ish building of concrete and glass, much of the exterior was decorated with dark wood panelling. It stood in a slight recess under an access road running past it, overlooking the community playground.

Inside was typical of a small town business centre. The reception desk was home to a sleepy receptionist who spent most of her day browsing Facebook. The kitchen was where most of the activity occurred, office tenants drinking tea and chatting to no end.

The office she was pointed to was the only one inhabited. Set on the door was the sign for 'Sharp IT' over an 'open' sign. This being her first time visiting the local computer repair guy, she hoped he was as sharp as his sign said he was.

Stepping in side, Aine was blasted from the heat of thermal build up from a running server and the strong odour of coffee. The office, though it looked more like a workshop, was well lit and the blinds were open to let in as much natural light as possible - what little there was to be had thanks to the Irish summer.

The walls were adorned with shelves which were stacked with equipment. Boxes upon boxes of things Aine neither recognised, nor could she fathom any discernible use for most of the gadgets and spare parts. There was just one desk with a tablet set on a docking station, linking it to a wireless keyboard and mouse in front, and extending the desktop to an external monitor off to one side.

Directly opposite the desk was a workbench, which stood right in front of Aine as she stood gathering her bearings. The bench was about stomach height, adorned with tangles of cables, rolled up keyboards and mice, scattered with spare or marked as faulty parts and home to a pair of monitors probably used on customer computers.

Standing by the workbench and working on what was assumedly a broken laptop stood a familiar figure. He was so familiar it took Aine completely by surprise.

He was her age, human, with a skinny build and dressed in jeans and a green plaid shirt. His black hair was cropped short and he had a full beard, trimmed but not styled any way beyond being kept short. Noticing her as the workshop door fell shut, the man lifted his brown eyes and spotted her.

"Oh... hello," he said with a grin, clearly just as surprised to see her as she was to see him.

"Lugo." Aine wanted to smile, but she just couldn't find the happy between the revenge porn and the sudden guilt seeing Lugo brought up again.

Lugo Sharpe wasn't an ex-boyfriend, but seeing him now Aine wondered why not. He'd grown up rather good looking, even for a human. but Lugo wasn't even an old friend. He was what one would call an 'acquaintance.'

Aine recognised him from secondary school, that lone foreign human kid nobody really clicked with. Then again, they went to a countryside secondary school with a mix of ignorant and superficial teenagers (do they make them any other way?). Lugo wasn't an outcast because he was weird or anything. He just was because... well, because.

And Aine was just as guilty as her friends for making him uncomfortable in what must have been the longest five years of the human's teenage life.

Though as he straightened up to greet her, Lugo either didn't remember, or he didn't carry any grudges. "Uh... Aine, isn't it?"

"Yeah."

"Wow. How long has it been? Like, five years?"

Aine nodded. "Something like that."

He quirked anther grin, then glanced at her laptop bag. "So, are you have computer problems?"

If only he really knew.

"Yes," Aine said nodding as she pulled out her laptop and handed it to him. "It won't start. I really need it; it has all my college work on it."

"Okay." Lugo opened it up on the workbench and clicked the power button. She was hoping that through some magic touch when Lugo pressed the button everything would work normally again. However like when Aine tried on the bus, nothing happened.

Turning it over like he'd choreographed the motions, he popped out the battery, held in the power button for a while, then replaced the battery. "Anything happen to it before this started happening? Has it ever been dropped? Spilled water on the keyboard?"

Aine's eyes widened just a little at the blunt line of questioning and for a second she was a little offended. She kept her laptop in immaculate condition; why would he ask that? Then she realised Lugo went through these motions every day. He was like a doctor checking if a patient had any history of heart problems or allergies. He needed a history of what the laptop had been through to make a diagnosis.

Swallowing, Aine sheepishly nodded. "Uh, yeah. It slid off the couch one time, but that was about a year ago."

"Fair enough. It probably has nothing to do with what's happening now. Do you have the power supply?"

Aine paused to do a mental technical translation and then reached for the laptop charger cable. Handing it to him, she watched as he plugged it in and checked the power lights. An amber light turned on the battery light. He pressed the power button and Aine heard the comforting whir of the fans before the boot screen appeared.

The vixen let out the breath she realised she'd been holding.

"Looks like you're in luck," Lugo said with a smile. "This is what we in the technical business call a flat battery. My professional opinion: leave it plugged in a few hours and call me in the morning."

With his mouth open to make another joking comment, Lugo turned his gaze to Aine but froze. She wasn't laughing or chuckling at his joke like other relieved customers did when realising their shit wasn't really broken. She looked seriously depressed, slowly lifting hand to her face like she was building up to a sneeze.

"I mean... it's only a dead battery," Lugo quickly explained, his tone a little more formal. "Your data is fine. And since this only took a minute there's no charge, so..."

He smiled. His tone was patient and disarming, designed to make Aine feel at ease. He'd probably had plenty of practice with other customers who came running in, panicking about possibly losing all the data on their computer.

It didn't help, and clasping her hands over her muzzle Aine tried to suppress a sob. It was too much to hold in though and it exploded into a cry. Tears immediately started to flow, leaving black mascara stains on her cheeks.

Lugo wasn't entirely sure what to do at first. "Are... are you okay?"

Aine shook her head and collapsed into Lugo's desk chair. She really wasn't okay. She couldn't even think straight enough to realise her own laptop was out of fucking battery. How had her life spiralled so out of control? Why did she deserve for everything to go to hell so quickly?

As Aine was crying, Lugo curiously knelt down in front of her so they were eye-to-eye. He looked thoughtful for a moment and Aine could already tell the cogs were working in order to figure out why she was crying.

Then he said, "Y'know a friend of mine was the same way when she got pregnant, all teary and the like. You shouldn't feel bad, with all the hormones and what-not there's nothing really you can..."

"I'm not pregnant!"

"Oh... okay then." Lugo sheepishly scratched his brow. "You wanna talk about what's wrong then?"

The vixen gave a long, shuddering sigh, then dabbed her eyes some more and nodded. She hadn't talked to anyone else about it other than the police and her flat-mate. Not her friends, not even her parents... especially not her parents. They were from pretty strict Catholic roots. They'd be so livid it'd probably kill them!

Hoping talking about this whole nightmare would make her feel better, Aine took a breath.

"I made a sex tape with my boyfriend a few months ago. Then when I broke up with him he posted it online."

She almost expected it would take more words than that to explain her predicament, but there you go. Lugo knew all the details, but Aine didn't feel much better. It did feel like a weight was lifted from her, confiding in another person, but she needed more. She needed him to say something. Tell her it wasn't her fault. Trash-talk Michael, anything!

"Did you speak to the Garda about it? They can probably get the video taken down." Lugo said, not realising he wasn't being very helpful.

"I spoke to them, but they can't do anything. Something about jurisdiction, and the law having no obligation - I don't know." She hung her head and felt fresh tears sting her eyes.

Aine sobbed for another little while before she noticed Lugo wasn't doing anything. he didn't say anything more, didn't put his arm around her... she wasn't sure why she expected him to do anything. Looking up she realised he was watching her. Not particularly thoughtful or shocked or embarrassed. Just watching her as if waiting for her to finish her story, like there was more to be told.

"You don't believe me," Aine said dryly.

"Well, no, it's not that I don't..."

Aine wasn't even listening. Suddenly angry she pulled over his keyboard and was typing as she exclaimed, "Fine, I'll show you!"

She wasn't thinking as she hijacked Lugo's computer. Before she knew it she had a browser open on the right page, scrolled past all the pictures of her wearing nothing but a blissfully ignorant expression and a pair of fuck-me heels, then buffered and automatically started playing her sex tape.

Lugo stared quietly as the sickening seconds ticked by, and the longer it took him to react the more Aine regretted acting before she thought it through properly. It seemed to be a bad habit for her not to think things through properly.

Eventually though, while the vile memory of Aine on the screen was gagging down several inches of cock thrusting in and out of her muzzle, Lugo finally said something. But what he said was bewilderingly off-topic.

"I can't believe you memorised that URL. That's gotta be like seventy case sensitive characters and symbols. If only I could get my customers to memorise their passwords the same way."

Aine looked up and glared.

"Sorry. That was in bad taste."

Aine's jaw loosened and her expression softened. She looked away bashfully. "It's okay... I have no idea why I showed you this just to prove I'm telling the truth." She paused to shrug. "What's one more person who thinks I'm a slut?"

Sighing she stopped the video before it got to the part where Michael bent her over and made her moan and beg for more, and closed the browser. Resting her face in her hand Aine just stared at Lugo's desktop wallpaper.

The picture was of a para-jumper falling through the sky, but he was wearing some kind of sleek military camouflage and had a gun lashed to his side. Underneath the caption read: 'It's kind of like extreme sports, except people are trying to kill you.'

Aine figured it must have been some kind of military motivational wallpaper. She wasn't entirely sure, but pondering about it helped clear her mind of all her current troubles. One of those being how she was going to look Lugo in the eye now.

The human surprised her though.

"I didn't think that?"

"What?"

Lugo shrugged. "I didn't think... I don't think you're a... well... y'know. Sure, it may have been better to not make the video in the first place, but hindsight is twenty-twenty, right? Besides, no decent guy uploads shit like this just because you dump him. You trusted him, and he betrayed that trust for no decent reason."

There was a pregnant silence, and then...

"This ex-boyfriend of yours; he got a name and address?" he suddenly asked.

Aine looked up and looked him right in the eye. And unlike the detective from earlier, he didn't seem to look at her at all differently. She was still a walk in customer with a familiar face in his eyes.

"You want his address? Why?"

"He's a bully. Never much liked bullies."

"So what are you going to do?"

"Nothing I haven't done before," Lugo mumbled to himself. Then glancing at her, he said more clearly, "Nothing he doesn't deserve."

---

---

Lugo dressed like he had done this before. Like he was familiar with fixing problems the law couldn't fix. Fixing them in a way that made the law very uncomfortable.

He wore a black hoodie, black Mechanix tactical gloves and a pair of black multicam trousers with black hiking shoes. The PVC pads hewn into the knee sections of his trousers were scuffed and faded, indicating exactly how long he'd been doing things like this.

It didn't take too much effort to hop the fence surrounding the house's expansive garden. The small town locale meant security wasn't too much of an issue, so the simple iron bar fences set into the stone perimeter walls weren't topped with razor-wire or anything.

Landing lightly in the shadows between a tall tree and a shrub, Lugo watched the mansion stretched out before him intently. He'd driven past this place on the way to work a billion times, and never before had he realised who owned it.

After Aine gave him Michael's full name and address, Lugo did some digging. And it wasn't hard to find dirt. In fact, it was so obvious Lugo was shocked the police hadn't jumped all over the guy. Then again, Michael had important family.

Michael Sheridan, also called 'Mickey' by his friends, had eight girlfriends in the past two years. None of the aforementioned girls ever found out about each other because Michael was a pretty good liar. Then again, that's a prerequisite for a scumbag.

Lugo found out about the eight girlfriends from Michael's Facebook profile. It took some cyber-sleuthing of course, but he managed to dig up deleted photo albums and relationship statuses lost under layers of cyberspace. He cross referenced these women with videos and pictures of other girls uploaded by the user that uploaded Aine's embarrassing predicament and it was a match.

The user 'Mikk3y69' on 'www.myexslut.com' was Michael, and he had posted revenge porn of every one of the women who broke up with him in the past two years. Some had more material than others, depending how long he was with them. But that didn't change the simple fact this guy needed a pavement facial.

And nobody had given him one because firstly, many of the women he posted revenge porn of were too ashamed and embarrassed to come forward, which was understandable. And secondly, the problem was the Sheridan family.

Michael's parents were big shot lawyers. Well known in the law enforcement circles and they kept tight with various judges and barristers. Add their wealth to their charisma and you had highly efficient machines for covering shit up. Keeping their scumbag son's sick hobby off the public radar was probably a cakewalk.

Then again, for Lugo hacking into their online revenue self-assessment profile was a cakewalk too. It was quite shocking how many idiots used 'Password1' as a password for important financial things. You'd think they'd secure their shit a little tighter, especially when they were committing tax fraud.

Needless to say Lugo had some shit he'd anonymously submit to the Gardai for their perusal. But not before he had a crack at this asshole first.

Movement broke his train of thought and he saw a muddle of light glide across the lawn. Walking along the patio was a man in a fairly simple suit jacket carrying a flashlight. One of the mansion's private guards. Lugo had expected to face as much.

He reached under his chin and pulled up a light polyester bandana. It sat comfortably on the bridge of his nose, hiding the bottom half of his face behind a print that seemed to be the bottom half of a Guy Fawkes mask, anonymising him pretty ironically. Pulling up his hood for good measure, Lugo touched off the tree and broke cover.

The lone guard went out like his flashlight. Wrapping his arms around the man's neck, Lugo kicked him in the back of the knee to drop him a notch and get the right leverage to close his windpipe. A few frantic moments of suffocation later he went down.

Grabbing the man by the jacket he dragged the hulk into the shadows where he'd no doubt wake up in a few hours with a hangover to brag about.

One down, no doubt a few more to take care of, Lugo darted towards the house and flattened himself against a wall. Peering through a window he spotted flickering lights inside. Sitting on a luxurious couch was another member of the Sheridan estate's private security. He was watching TV, but all it would take was a sideways glance to spot Lugo.

Ducking under the concrete sill, Lugo crawled along the patio then straightened up when he'd cleared the window. Reaching a glass pane patio door next, the human looked the door up and down. The mansion didn't seem to have conventional locks. This door was magnetically sealed with an electronic fob scanner set into steel frame. The electro-magnets were corporate security grade too, so he'd have better luck kicking the window in than he would have kicking the door open.

So he opted for the route of finesse.

Opening his satchel, Lugo produced a tablet and knelt. The screen flashed on, lighting up his masked face as he connected to the house's wifi and forced his way in. again, his cracking software didn't have much trouble cracking a password like 'wifipassword2.'

With some luck he realised their entire network ran through the single router, and with a few seconds of digital sleuthing he accessed the virtual network reserved for the security system. He tricked the cameras and locks into thinking his tablet was the main controller and he had full access to security. lasers and motion sensors were off in a second and he scrolled through the cameras, swivelling to sweep each room.

He counted three more guards. One in the kitchen just down the hall from the living room where one was watching TV, and finally the third was patrolling the atrium at the front of the house.

With a few practiced taps Lugo was in the e-locks and the patio door fell open. Smiling he was in, tucking away his tablet and sneaking to the living room first. The guard watching TV tried to call out, but it wasn't easy through a crushed windpipe.

The second threat to his plans dealt with, Lugo arranged the guard's unconscious body so it looked like he'd fallen asleep, then cranked the TV volume a little.

Just like he planned, he heard approaching footsteps.

"Christ, Peter. Would 'ye turn that shite..." the red furred squirrel stepping into the living room froze mid-sentence when he saw the man on the couch. "Ah, c'mon! No sleeping on the job!"

Before the squirrel could cross the room to wake his buddy though, Lugo was all over him.

Throwing himself shoulder first, the human darted out of the shadowy corners of the room and threw the squirrel into the wooden frame of the living room door. Then as the guard collapsed, winded, Lugo drove his knee forwards, catching the squirrel in the side of the head and slamming him into the frame one last time before he fell out cold.

"The fu-..." Down the corridor an anthro bulldog, the guard who had been patrolling the atrium stood frozen for a second, fumbling for something on his belt.

With the legality of self-defence weaponry questionable in these parts of the world, the bulldog's options were limited to taking a beating, or going for the pepper spray clipped to his hip. He chose to go for the pepper spray, but it didn't make much of a difference.

Lugo cleared the distance between them with a few long bounds then dropped to the deck, sliding across the polished, slick tiles. One foot kicked to catch the guard into eh knee, and as he fell the human's other foot drove up between his legs.

Gasping in pain, the bulldog dropped the canister of offensive spray and doubled over. Lugo was already on his feet and brought a fist down like a hammer on the bulldog's face, throwing the fully grown man like a rag-doll face first into the ground.

Breathing hard, Lugo collected himself. kicking the pepper spray under a nearby cupboard he checked his tablet one more time before moving. The cameras were all clear and the motion sensors weren't detection movement anywhere else in the house. He'd gotten all the guards. Which freed Lugo up to do what he came here to do.

Crossing the atrium by the front, Lugo climbed the curved staircase to an upper balcony overlooking the cavernous entrance to the mansion. But as he reached the top, Lugo was stopped from exploring further by an electronic beep and a metallic click.

Looking down he saw the front door swing open and a human man loaded with take-away boxes and bags stepped inside. Kicking the door shut behind him, he stumbled across the atrium, calling out as he did.

"I got the food lads!"

Lugo sighed. Of course one of the guards would have gone out to get food. Rolling his eyes, Lugo vaulted over the balcony handrail before his window closed, then dropped several metres straight down on top of the final guard.

He crumpled under the young man, and Lugo crouched low to absorb the impact of his landing. When he straightened he kicked the man's head into the ground for good measure.

Satisfied that he was _now_clear to finish the job, Lugo climbed the steps again and explored down one of the corridors. It didn't take long for him to find what he was looking for.

The moans accompanied by the wet slapping of flesh led Lugo down the corridor until he found a bedroom door on a crack. A sliver of light spilled into the corridor, momentarily illuminating Lugo's face as he leaned over and peeked inside.

The bedroom was dominated by a king-size bed directly in his field of view. And clear to see without the need to push the door open any further were two figures going at it like rabbits.

Only half-right. Sitting straight on his knees by the edge of the bed was an equine; Michael was impossible to mistake. Lugo had a whole plethora of online posted selfies to identify the guy by.

The woman sitting on hands and knees in front of the horse he didn't recognise. She was a petite grey and brown bunny with platinum blonde hair cut short into a bowl-cut. She wasn't entirely undressed either. A red lace bra seemed to have been pulled down instead of taken off and hung around her skinny mid-section. Her panties of matching fabric were gathered around one ankle and she wore a pair of thigh high black tights printed with large crimson hearts. She had clearly prepared for this romp; it wasn't a spontaneous thing. Meaning Michael had moved on from his relationship with Aine pretty briskly.

The bunny's head was tipped back where Michael roughly pulled at her long ears, although revealed by the expression of bliss and the squeals of delight coming from her, the woman was clearly enjoying the rough treatment as the horse's thick cock destroyed her tight pussy from behind.

And like it was to be expected, Lugo spotted a camera sitting on a tri-pod, recording everything for posterity.

Lugo looked down from the show to his tablet. Trying his best not to listen to the bunny's orgasm over the squeaking bed-springs, he jacked into the general network and identified that Michael's computer was turned on. Of course it was. He needed to backup and upload that video when he was done.

He was in within seconds and ran his custom data mining routines. Moments ticked by as he glanced between the shuddering bunny and his tablet screen. Michael's breathing had escalated and his new girlfriend threw her head down into the pillows to muffle her lustful screams.

Then finally he had it all, pretty much on the moment Michael thrust into the bunny and didn't pull out. The woman cooed reaching back between her legs and cupping the equine's balls as he pumped a torrent of cum into her. She was so small compared to him and the amount of cum he could deliver, much of it bubbled out past where his girth stretched out her pussy lips. A few globules of the white stuff diluted by her own orgasm trickled down her inner thigh and soaked into her tights.

Lugo wasn't watching. He was already browsing the temp-data streamed from Michael's PC. And it was the stuff of major annoyance. Enough material to fill a porn site, sure. But it was all of ex-girlfriends who had likely not given permission for their private moments of lust to be shared with the world.

There was gigabyes of the stuff. Videos and pictures, all stored and archived neatly in folders and directories. He had named each image and folder individually with either serial numbers or keywords. It was organised alphabetically as well, along with the dates of what Lugo had to assume were start and end dates of his relationship with the particular woman. Shit went back about eight years, spanning nearly a hundred women.

Lugo did a quick search and found pretty much all of the accumulated amateur material was uploaded. Not just to the same website Aine's video and pictures had been uploaded to, but multiple other exploitative sites around the web. He had Michael's IP and MAC address and double checked the accounts were indeed logging in from the same PC.

On some of the profiles Michael actually pretended to be the girl whose likeness he was uploading, encouraging other users to post degrading comments or screenshots of them ejaculating to her pictures.

Tucking away the tablet, he glared. The bunny had just sauntered out of sight and Lugo heard a door close. A moment later there was the hum of an electric shower pump.

While his girl was showering, Michael stood, still fully erect and glistening with a mixture of juices, and retrieved his camera before moving to his computer desk. He was no doubt going to add another victim to this sadistic game he was playing.

Michael had been getting away with this bullshit for far longer than Lugo originally realised. Far too long.

Lugo wanted to... no. Not wanted. He needed to erase Michael. Giving his gloves a little tug to make sure they were tight and comfy, Lugo pushed open the door and set to work.

Michael was on his chair, clicking away the screensaver by the time Lugo was on him. Grabbing the horse by the shoulders, Lugo pulled hard, tipping him backwards and throwing him to the ground. He let out a cry of surprise until he landed flat on his back and Lugo punched him in the throat. Not hard enough to break his trachea, but just hard enough to give him something to think about.

Pulling the chair out from under Michael, he then crossed the room then wedged it under the bathroom door handle, jamming the door shut so they wouldn't be interrupted.

Walking back to the computer desk, Lugo stepped over Michael who was beginning to drag himself across the floor, and picked up the camera sitting on the desk. He pulled out the SD card which would make for a nice base for a little bonfire later, then dropped the camera and stomped on it until it was reduced to pieces.

Then he turned his full attention to the naked horse on the ground.

"Where do you think you're going?" Lugo asked masking his voice with a throaty, raspy growl.

Grabbing Michael by the hair, he dragged the equine to his feet only to drop him again into the desk. He followed up with a kick to the side of the head, forcing his face into the edge of the desk. He crumpled with a bleeding gash across his cheek.

"You couldn't just be graceful about it, could you?" Lugo went on to say, picking him up again. "You had to have the last laugh, because you're too fucking weak to handle a God honest break-up."

He forced Michael's head into a wall, then kicked his legs out from under him. As he fell he punched his head into the wall a second time, then caught him with a knee, wall-stomping him for a third time before he collapsed entirely. Each time the blow was not meant to maim or render him unconscious.

They were practiced motions intended to inflict pain.

"You're not a man. Not really. You're a sad little boy throwing a tantrum."

In his daze Michael was probably only half listening, trying to make sense of what was going on. "What-...?"

"Oh, c'mon, Michael. You're fucking stupid, but you can't be that fucking stupid. I saw your folder structure." Lugo produced his phone and synched it with his tablet to reveal the files viewed on Michael's computer. All of the websites he'd been visiting and logging into lately. All of the truths behind his lies.

"Very organised. I'd be impressed if the intent wasn't so repulsive."

"That's not mine..."

Lugo grimaced, then drove the edge of his foot into Michael's groin. The anthro screamed and writhed, and when his hands finally moved away from his crotch he revealed his boner to be sitting at an unnatural angle. The nine inches of horse-meat was broken in the mid-section, kinked off to one side, and Michael screamed again - more at the sight of it than the pain.

Lugo doubled over and chuckled darkly. "The cops may not be able to do anything about you, but I'm obviously not a cop am I?"

Growling, Michael tried his best not to look at his snapped cock and glowered up at the human intruder. The penny must have dropped.

"One of those sluts hired you because I spread her shit around."

"Ding-ding-ding-ding. We have a winner."

With a cry, Michael tried to get up and throw a punch. Lugo lazily stopped it with his foot, pushed the horse back to the ground and straight punched him in the face.

In the pause they both realised the shower was still going, muffling the ruckus in the bedroom. And with all the guards out cold, Michael was slowly coming to the realisation nobody was coming to help him.

"You think it's just for revenge? I don't care that I get dumped!" Michael chuckled, then spat blood. "No, this is sport. This is my hobby. I make those sluts break up with me on purpose. Embarrassing them afterwards is just for fun."

The human's brow furrowed. This guy was literally worse than Lugo expected, and he was feeling less and less bad about roughing him up. "Well fun's over, asshole."

"No, the fun's only just beginning. There's quite a lot of women. But I'll pay each of them a visit, one by one. I got time. And I got means. I'll find out which one of those whores hired you... eventually." He laughed. Laughed at his own sick joke. At Lugo's silence.

But Lugo let him laugh. Let him have this.

"Errrrr! Wrong!" he buzzed, kicking the horse in the ribs. "You're not going to go near them. Any of them, ever again. Wanna know why?"

"Enlighten me," Michael seethed as Lugo knelt deeply over him.

"Because threats hurt, Michael. Though not nearly as much as serrated steel."

As he was talking, Lugo's right hand had vanished into a pocket. When it came back out it was holding a pair of hinged metal handles. With a light flick of the wrist he flashed open the butterfly knife, twirled it between his fingers and then snapped shut the handle to reveal a long blade ending in a smooth point, serration for sawing actions making up the first centimetre or so of the steel.

Turning the weapon over he put the point into Michael's shoulder. Not enough to do serious harm. Just enough to show that Lugo meant business.

"Gaaaaah, fuck!" the horse screamed in pain and Lugo mockingly mimicked the cry.

"Gaaaaah, fuck; indeed, Mickey-boy." He twirled the knife some more, flashing it in front of his face. Speaking seriously now, Lugo told him in a straight, calm tone, "We're going to remove everything you uploaded of all your exes. We're going to delete it all, then revoke your online presence completely. And know this, Michael. I'm going to be watching you very closely. No matter where you go, no matter what device you use, if I ever see you go online ever again you will learn in the worst of ways how much pain serrated steel can inflict."

Gone was Michael's confidence. His dick broken, his shoulder bleeding and this maniac sitting over him, the horse was breathing rapidly, eyes wide with pain and fear. Fear that only widened as the human brought his face down closer to his.

Behind his mask, Lugo smiled. The expression stretched out the bandana just enough to spread the big Guy Fawkes grin for Michael to see more clearly.

"I do not forgive, Michael. And I do not forget. Expect me."

---

---

Sitting alone on the damp wooden bench on the edge of the community centre playground, Aine was lost in her thoughts. There were some squeals of delight as a father pushed his daughter on the swings, and a long blaring cry of someone further in town pressing a car horn. But other than that, in the dreary, clammy, fine rain she was alone with her thoughts.

And her thoughts raced for all the worst reasons.

Pulling out her phone she swiped into the photo album and scrolled to a picture of her class that had been taken on the last day of secondary school. Of course there were many faces missing, many never having bothered showing up, making everyone who was there all the more recognisable.

She spotted herself right away; standing to one side, her then boyfriend - some GAA jock who couldn't keep it in his pants when they all shipped out to college - with his muscular arm draped around her as she pulled a duckface and struck a slutty pose, pretending to be on the verge of lifting her skirt for a flash. Her friends stood around doing similarly shameless poses and expressions. She suddenly hated the picture and considered deleting it there and then.

Then she looked to the other side of the picture, a side she admittedly barely ever looked at and found a reason to keep the pic. Standing on the opposite side of the spectrum were some other students from the less popular cliques. And kneeling in the front row was Lugo Sharpe.

Lugo seemed to be the only guy in the picture giving a normal smile. He seemed like the only guy in the class who gave a damn what state his school uniform was in. He hadn't changed much in his appearance, aside from the little beginnings of the moustache back then having turned into a beard. He still kept his hair cropped short. Still had a similar skinny build.

He still had a great smile Aine was ashamed to admit she never noticed until recently.

And he still didn't look like much of a fighter.

Aine hated herself for giving him Michael's address. What the hell would Lugo be able to do anyway? He was going to have his ass kicked, Aine just knew it. And it was her fault. Her fault for letting him get involved. She should have kept her stupid trap shut and not let a perfectly nice guy do what perfectly nice guys do. Try to come to the rescue and get hurt in the process.

Putting her phone away Aine messed up her eyeliner rubbing her eyes, feeling like she might cry again. She did a lot of that recently.

What stopped her was a slight sag in the wooden bench as someone sat down beside her.

Aine looked up and her eyes saw, but for a good few seconds could not believe. Sitting down beside her, Lugo put down his backpack and rummaged around its contents, his face and body completely untouched and looking like he slept like a baby last night.

"Michael's sorry," he said fairly simply as his hand came up with a small stack of pictures.

Michael stood with a scrap of cardboard reading the words 'I'm sorry,' a bright red ball gag in his mouth and his broken cock on full view. The sight of the pictures caught Aine by surprise in such a way she clasped a hand over her mouth.

"H-... how...?" she stammered.

"He also took down the video and the pictures." Lugo ignored the how and went on to say, "But there's no guarantee..."

She couldn't think. Aine just couldn't focus. She knew Lugo was trying to say something important, but she was caught up on how she had clearly underestimated him. Where the full force of the law failed, one old acquaintance from secondary school who now fixed computers succeeded?

There was clearly more to Lugo than met the eye. Something dark. Perhaps even sinister. But she didn't care right now. He helped her without her even having to ask really. That made him trustworthy.

Turning she threw her arms around the human and hugged him tight.

"Thank you. Thank you so much," she whispered in his ear through wet snivvles.

He let her calm down to the point she sheepishly slid her arms away from his neck and scooted back to give Lugo some space.

"Listen, there's no guarantee others didn't already save and redistribute the material. Once something goes online, it's up there. It's very hard to eradicate something like this entirely. Impossible even."

Understanding, Aine nodded. "It's okay. Michael got what was coming to him. I'll be okay knowing that much. How can I ever thank you?"

"Don't worry. Michael kindly offered to cover your computer maintenance fees for the next two years."

He smiled, and Aine felt like the sun had suddenly come out. She paused her breaths when he reached out and took her hand, then looked down when he pressed the pictures into her palm.

"Though I would appreciate it if you could keep this 'fix' just between the two of us."

"Not a word to anyone. I promise."

Lugo nodded gratefully and closed up his bag. "It was nice seeing you again, Aine."

Folding the pictures into the palm of her hand, Aine felt herself smile for the first time in what felt like a very long time. She looked up in time to see Lugo shouldering his backpack as he walked away.

"You're my hero!"

Lugo laughed, only half turning to call back to her, "Nope! Just good at fixing things..."

---