FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

The street corner smelled like a whole basket of rotten eggs, and the graffiti spelled out enough expletives to fill a dictionary. Even the cops stayed away from this place unless there was some sort of call. It was far more likely to be rescued by a superhero than anything else. This was, by no means, anything against the police. It was just that so many cops had been either injured or killed in this part of the slums. New York City was known for its crime, and good food, but this place had no good food for miles. Hot dog stands stayed away from it, and the only food could be found at gas stations with bars on the windows.

The corner of May and 9th, that was where Richter and Weaver were told to meet this man who taped a letter onto Weaver's apartment door. Whoever it was, he did not give a name, nor did he mention how he knew their true identities. He simply said to meet him in Poundtown, and they would be given further instructions. So, now they had a jackass who was either going to try and blackmail the duo, or turn them into the authorities. Either way, neither of them liked the sound of any of it.

They took to the back alleys, and the rooftops as much as they could. Walking around out in the open in a place like this was just asking for ass pounders to come out of the woodworks. They arrived at the corner, thankfully, they had the cover of nightfall. The sun's light could barely be seen in the sky, and the clouds above had a beautiful purple tinge to them, and the horizon was a delightful pink color. These rusty old buildings sure could use a little bit of color to them. They passed up a whole gaggle of old, bewildered homeless, all of them seeing the two, and all of them not caring, as it was none of their business. The only thing they cared about was keeping warm as the dusk settled in and keeping their fire going in their barrels.

Finally, they reached the street corner, and of course, no one was there. It was a closed down cafe from about twenty years ago, now it was just a fuck spot for drug users, and a place to exchange other illegal goodies. There was also a payphone. Even in a big city like NYC, payphones were being removed in favor of free wifi hotspots. This one was all chewed up, and the coin compartment was completely removed.

"Great, now what?" Weaver said, pulling her white hood back so she could scratch her head through her pink mask that fit over her entire head. The vixen hated mashing her blond hair in a skin tight mask, one single itch and soon it became unbearable.

"Well, we are five minutes early." Richter said through his full red mask, looking at his cellphone. "Can't wait to find whoever this asshole is so we can kick his ass and get back to binge watch Da--"

He was interrupted by the phone ringing. Both of them turned to see that the payphone surprisingly had life.

"Well it certainly hung in there." Weaver said as Richter picked the phone up off the hook, the silverfox saw that most of the cord it was hooked to was bare wire, and the receiver was half gone, showing the inside of it.

He held it up to his ear without saying a word. He could hear someone laughing on the other end, though it was more between a laugh, and a chuckle.

"Richter?" A voice said, in a very strong German accent. He pronounced the "ch" in Richter's name like a hard "k."

"Who is this?" Richter asked, drawing another laugh.

"Ho, you vould like zat vouldn't you? Telling you mein name ven ze game has not even begun. How foolish. Shtill, I feel I must varn you zat zis vill not be easy for you and your little vixen, ja. In fact, ze chances of you making it out alive are shlim to nill."

"Yeah, yeah, I've heard this all before. Get to the part where you're within punching distance of my fist." Richter looked over at Weaver, who shrugged, not really having a differing opinion on the subject.

"Such a feisty one, you are. Very vell, I vill get down to, how you Americans zay, 'brass tax.'" He chuckled at his attempt at an American accent. "Now, I have sent you to ze middle of the shlums for very good reason, you zee. Zoon, you vill have very limited options as to how you can escape. Put ze Fräulein on ze phone, I vish to shpeak vis her."

"You want to talk..." Richter took the phone from his ear and looked at it. Weaver knew that look on his red, blank mask, he was not happy with this guy. Richter sighed, and held the phone to her, shaking his head. "He wants to talk to you."

"To me? The hell is this guy's deal?" She asked, Richter shrugged, not being able to make sense of anything in this weirdo's head. She took the phone and held it up to her ear. "Hello?"

"Guten tag." The man said.

"Wouldn't it be gutennacht? It is night, you know." She looked up at the sky, which was fully dark at that point.

"Ooohh, very good, Veaver. Now, if you view your little boyfriend, you vill zee the toxin I have painted ze phone vith is now taking effect."

Weaver's head instantly turned to Richter, who was, indeed, holding the front of his forehead, and starting to breathe rather hard.

"What?! What the fuck did you do, you crazy freaked out maniac?" Weaver shouted into the phone, and put her hand on Richter's shoulder. The silverfox looked over at her, still panting for breath, but he wasn't looking at her face. Judging by his head movements, he was leering at her ass and her tits.

"I have treated you both vith a zerum of mein own concoction. It has no name, and it has no cure. You merely have to vait out ze effects, vich, in my calculations, vich are never wrong, is five whole hours. Zis is vere ze fun begins, ja?"

"The fuck?! You brought us all the way out here just to drug us both with some poison? Is this some kind of joke?!"

"Nein, no joke. It's a game! Zat was merely ze setup. Now comes the fun."

Both of them looked up as they noticed that a broken down old car on the side of the road, just down the block began to move. Its roof hatched in twain, and up from the car's frame came a pole with what looked like a megaphone.

"Attention! Attention! All personnel in the area! There are two masks in the area! A bounty of ten thousand dollars has been placed on their heads for their capture. Dead or alive!" The speaker phone shouted, and then the message played once again.

"You're fucking psycho!" She shouted, but he wasn't listening, the voice on the phone was already in a fit of laughing. Just as she slammed the phone on the cradle, all the sudden, she started thinking about Richter's enormous cock, and those gorgeous, suckable balls that she loved to lick and feel in her mouth. She turned to him to see that he was thinking very similar thoughts about her sweet vixen body.

She looked down to see that his was cock was bulging from the crotch of his pants. Her quim was weeping with juices, and all the sudden her panties were absolutely soaked to the bone. Both of them pulled their masks halfway up their faces and met in a passionate kiss of absolute hunger!

Their arms caressed one another, and their hands groped all over each other's body. The need was so desperate, but their sensible brains were screaming at them that if they didn't hurry, they were going to be killed.

"There they are." They heard a deep voice shout to two others. The three dark clad gentlemen began walking up toward them with bats, knives, and one of them had a set of brass knuckles. Painful, and abrupt, they were forced to end their kiss. Both of them pulled down their masks, and turned to the approaching gentlemen.

"Ten thousand for these two? Easy money." The very large bear man slid his brass knuckles onto his fingers, and popped them. The panther held up his bat with both hands, and the dalmatian flipped his knife blade up into position before holding the blade downward in his hand for easy stabbing motions.

Richter was downright disgusted with this! He stood with his fists out at either side, his blood boiling, and his breathing went into hyper mode. The red masked hero sprinted forward as the bear took his first step toward them. He came head on, catching them off guard by his sheer speed and aggression!

The bear punched toward him with his shining brass knuckles, but Richter was able to dodge that before he even properly executed the move. One single devastating jab to the sternum sent the bear reeling backwards. The bear struggled to breathe, clutching his chest and collapsing to the ground.

The panther lifted his bat over head at the silverfox hero's flank, but before he could bring the bat down on his head, the superheroine cast a web from her wrist that caught the bat and pulled it from his hands. Lunging into the air from where she stood, Weaver sent in on a flying kick straight into the panther's jaw. Spit and blood spattered the concrete ground as his head bounced off of it.

The critically anxious fox girl, and her partner both loomed over the remaining dalmatian. The dog stood with a shaking hand that held his weapon, and he was already taking steps backward. The panther took two attempts at trying to either crawl or get to his feet. Either way, he was unsuccessful, and he passed out.

"D-d-don't come any closer! I-I-" He was interrupted as both of them began to come closer to him, neither of them speaking. He could feel their scowling eyes on him, waiting for him to make a move. With no more hesitation, he dropped the knife and began to haul ass down the street.

"Hey! Over there!" This time it was an entire gang of leather jacketed ne'er-do-wells. All of them began to run toward them from down the other end of the street.

"Shit! We gotta go!" She wrapped her arm around the back of his torso and shot a web up to the top of the building next to them and pulled them both upward. Two gangsters pulled out pistols, and opened fire. Thankfully, they were as bad a shot as they were ugly. Weaver got to a ledge of a window and jumped straight up onto the rooftop. Both of them crouched below the cover of the roof's edge. It was an old building, and the stone it was made from was the real deal, so the bullets broke on its surface.

"This is ridiculous." Richter said as he looked over at her, and just the sight of her skin tight suit covering her large, round tits. Instantly, his hand groped her breast, and his mouth nipped at her neck through his mask.

"Richter--Ohhhh! Don't-- we need-- oohh God yes!" He caressed her breast, and she held his hand tighter on her chest. Her hand reached down to his balls and grasped them through his dark gray pants. His nuts were red hot, and his cock was swollen to the point where his erection was almost painful. "Fuck! We need to stop!" She shouted, and let him go.

"Errr!" He cringed, shaking his head, even slapping himself. "Yeah, we need to get out of here, now." Richter tried not to think about her sopping wet quim just waiting for him in her pants. He tried to think of geography, that horribly boring subject that he slept through most of his high school classes. I mean, who the hell cares about the capital of countries?

Weaver pointed toward the other side of the roof, where there was another building that was slightly shorter. However, before they could even start running. The doorway to the rooftop crashed straight down as a very large timber wolf stepped out of it, followed by his pack. All of them wore their black leather jackets, along with brass chains that went from their chest pocket to their hip pocket. On the back of their jackets was a Jolly Roger wolf, with crossbones and everything, and it read "The Brother Wolf."

The pack leader was very large, and his eye was scarred over to the point of not opening. He grinned as he approached the two of them.

"The thing said two heroes, and I can only assume it means you two. So, the choice is yours. Come with us now, or we'll bring you back in body bags. Decide now!" The pack leader shouted, and his gang growled and slapped their hands over their fists in anticipation.

Weaver and Richter were starting to feel very heated. Their brows began to pour sweat, and the sexual arousal was starting to feel closer to sexual torture! They looked at one another, even through their masks, they could tell that the other was winded at that point. Still, something had to be done, and with their guns, swinging off into the street was hardly an option. There was only one alternative.

Richter lunged forward onto one knee, and smashed his fist into the rooftop of the building. With his super ability, he created a tremor at the top of it, and even with its tough structure, it could not last but a mere second. The roof caved, and all of the gangsters on it plummeted into the abandoned building, some of them falling through holes in the floor, to crash into the tier below the top floor.

Weaver and Richter quickly stepped up onto the ledge of the roof as it collapsed below them, quick to avoid the crumbling rock. With a sense of urgency, she grabbed around his waist, and shot a long web just below them onto the front of the building. With a little care, she jumped down and bungeed down below. They made it to the sidewalk, and as they did, they smelled kerosene. There were lights seen around the corner of the street. As hard as they hoped it was just hobos lighting a barrel fire, it was torches being lit. A band of hooded men began to patrol the streets, and announced quite loudly that they were going to "kill some masks." The two of them hurried across the street, into the entryway of a gun store.

Not really wanting to waste time, Weaver turned the locked knob, and broke the lock inside. Using her super strength to break into a store was not at all what she had in mind when she first obtained the ability. However, in desperate times, there were not many options. Both of them got into the gun store and crouched down. The door closed just in time, as the hooded lowlifes were just turning the corner, their torches lighting the way.

"You said you got insurance, right?" Weaver whispered to him as she stayed close to the wall, and watched the flickering lights reflect off the floor as they passed.

"Yeah, but I don't know how much it's going to help us now. We need to keep moving once they get clear of the store." He said, then drew in a very wavered breath.

Her hand moving from her stomach, then to her chest, then up to her chin, everything was so hyper sensitive. "Fucking asshole. When I get my hands on him..."

"I know, come on, we gotta keep going." He started to stand up, but she grasped his wrist.

"Wait, Richter..." She said, then put his hand right on her crotch, and hard.

"But, Weaver, we--"

"I don't care right now!" Her voice turned from meek to commanding in an instant as she pulled off her mask and his. They kissed once again, and Weaver almost tore his pants off as she unbuckled his belt, and undid his buttons. She pulled off the top of her suit, and her pants to reveal a string of her own juice connected from her panties to her sopping slit. The two of them stripped, and continued to kiss as he laid her down. His piping hot erection only mere inches away from her cunny, but she stopped him.

She pushed him over onto the ground and got in the sixty-nine position. Her pussy pushed against his snout as she swallowed his cock. The sensation of his tongue against her clitoris could be felt in waves across her entire body. Weaver sucked on his cock as if her life depended on it, the feel of his rock hard shaft on her tongue. Within moments of him sucking on her pussy, she came, and she came hard. A small splash of juice went across his muzzle, but he kept licking up and down her inner labia, causing her to moan against his cock.

It took her just a few good sucks to get him off too. As she felt his cock twitch, she smiled, and lavished in the torrent of cum roped into her mouth. She drank his cum as quickly as it came out, but after that, he pulled his cock away from her mouth and got out from underneath her.

There the orange fox was, on her hands and knees as she combed her blond hair away from her face and looked back at him with her eyes half open. The smile she gave him seemed drunk, as her cheeks were beet red and she giggled as he grabbed his hands onto her ass cheeks. As he slid his head into her ever so easily, he resisted the urge to start pumping her at full speed right away.

She put on her "O" face as she felt his member enter her, and mewled as he began to slowly push himself in and out of her cunt. Whatever the mad doctor gave them, it was especially powerful. Both of them had already gotten off, but they were still horny as teenaged virgins. There came a point where he could hold back no longer, and she didn't want him to. He began to push his cock balls deep into her pussy, and this made her cry out softly, only muffled by the need to stay hidden from the dangers outside.

"Fuck!" She whispered in an urgent tone. "Fuck your little whore like you mean it! Push that big, hot cock into my pussy and don't ever stop!" This drove him harder, soon his cock was banging into her, his pelvis slapped against her ass, and his balls pelted her pussy like crazy. The two of them came, and they came ever so hard!

A fresh layer of cum drenched the inside of her pussy, but he felt no need to stop. He continued to slide into her with a humongous force. Even with his full powered rutting, she could handle every bit of it with grace, and the more passionate he fucked her, the more she got into it. Deeper and deeper she started to push back against his cock. She felt him slap her ass hard, and she almost full on yelped in surprise but lavished as he pet her butt cheek after word.

"Do it again." She looked back at him with such lust that could be measured by miles. "I've been a bad girl! Spank me!" He slapped her other voluptuous ass cheek and gripped them both, squeezing. She was not masochistic, but she gritted her teeth as she came once again. Her thighs locked together tight against his as she bared against such a magnificent orgasm.

He reached forward, and gripped both of her large breasts, making her lean back against him. She moaned as he pinched her nipples, and continued to fuck her at an upward angle. He nipped his teeth along her neck, making her gasp as she rubbed the back of his head with and up reached arm, her other arm rubbing against the back of his other hand. Suddenly, his fucking became that much harder as he began to pump into her with an unprecedented vigor!

"Oh, God! That doctor really-- err! Fucked us up! We should--ooo-- Really get going!" Richter said, but even as he said this, his fucking still came in intervals of harder and softer. He figured the more he kept her guessing and took her off guard, the better it was for both of them. "Not that I'm not... enjoying--- Oh!!" He came inside of her once again, the semen dripping onto the ground in large globs.

"Oh, God, your cum is so fucking addicting! It should be illegal." She said, turning her head and meeting his mouth with hers as her tongue invaded his mouth. His white fur was darkening as his sweat began to glisten. They had been fucking for a while, but neither of them felt at all satiated. Still, they felt like they had energy for days! It was amazing, and they embellished in such delicious feelings as they felt their arms around one another. She relished the sensation of his cock gushing hot sperm into her cervix, and then continuing to fuck her as if nothing happened.

He had cum six times, and she had cum eleven times before they finally felt as if they could stop for a little bit. Richter's cock was still very hard, but it was at a much more manageable level, and her pussy's fire was doused to a decent extent. Both of them quickly began to get dressed in the dark.

However, that darkness was lit up from the outside as two bright lights shined into the gun store, and there came a very loud voice from a speaker phone.

"Alright, assholes! It's time to come out with your hands up!" The voice called into the store, and both of them heard a very loud clanking noise. They looked outside to see a very small tank was parked outside of the store, and its main cannon pointed directly at them, with two small spotlights on either side of the gun.

"Is that a tank? What the hell is someone doing with a tank?!" Weaver said as she pulled on her mask and popped her hood up over her head.

"Criminals these days, who the hell knows?" He pulled his mask over his face.

"Alright! Since neither of you are coming toward the door, here's an incentive!" The tank was small, but the cannon was unusually large for such a model. It almost looked structurally unstable. "I'm loading a .105 shell into this cannon, and if you don't come out on the count of ten. I'm gonna blow you to hell and collect your body parts! Ten!"

"Shit! We need to think of something, I've never been hit with cannonfire!" Weaver said, and Richter started looking around the store, thinking as fast as he could.

"Three! Two! One!"

Boom.