FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

The cold expanse of space was empty and unforgiving, but amongst the vacuum of stars and planets, a long ship fluttered along at a cruising speed. It was small and pill-shaped, with a rounded back and front and an otherwise flat, cylindrical length with a circular cross-section. Two wings sat on either side, and a number of thrusters were dotted and welded to the back. It was a strange ship, but it had it's purpose: Prison Carrier.

Inside the shop, the engine hummed and it's immense battery core powered the auto-pilot systems, with various screens monitoring the trajectory of the ship and any passing comets or asteroids that might enter their path. It all seemed clear the ship was relatively quiet.

It had to be roughly the size of a cell, perhaps longer, and bore very littler decoration. Two benchs were anchored to either wall for people to sit down on, and other then the captain's chair, there wasn't much else. A ramp sat at the back, tightly closed to prevent the life supports oxygen from leaking out of the ship.

It was travelling for a very simple, and very easy purpose: it was transporting a prisoner. The pilot was a rather scrawny Raccoon creature, clearly bipedal, and dressed in a tight-fitting blue jumpsuit that clung to it's otherwise indiscriminate and bland hips and around it's simple hips. It's arms were bare, as were it's lower legs, and it's tail sad behind it. The Pilot appeared to be tinkering with someone on the floor, it's dexterous fingers messing with all sorts of pieces of metal on the floor of the ship.

Sitting mere metres away from the Pilot was the actual prisoner: a hulking behemoth of a lizard, similar to a Crocodile, with a long scarred snout and mottled green scales. It was watching the Raccoon with one single slitted yellow eye, hunched over with it's elbows resting on it's knees. It was bipedal as well, slightly hunched in form, with powerful arm and chest muscles and manly hips. Much like the Raccoon, it also had 5 fingers, and it's feet ended in long, peculiar crocodile feet, webbed and dexterous. He bore nothing but a simple tight-fitting shirt with a jacket, and a loose pair of trousers.

It watched the Pilot silently, and the testosterone lingering in the air made it certain the two of them were Males. The Raccoon was primarily engrossed in whatever he was tinkering with, slotting things together and idly soldering this and that to one-another without consequence. When he didn't seem satisfied, he's snap the pieces apart and try again.

"...So, this is the legendary Rocket, renowned mercenary, and Guardian of the Galaxy?" The Crocodile rumbled from it's long snout, scanning the Raccoon up and down with a single eye. It's other was too scarred up to see, and that presumably made depth perception difficult.

"Trust me, pal," Rocket quickly snapped back. "If I were bad at what I do, you wouldn't be in cuffs."

"...Touché." The crocodile mused back at him, staring at him with a rather intense gaze. Rocket seemed to be glancing at him every so often, and the Crocodile couldn't seem to fathom why. His head slowly tilted as he watched the Raccoon fiddle with his work with a little more intensity, as if he were getting nervous. The Crocodile's nostrils flared.

"...You are attracted to me." He muttered, half-surprised, and half-amused. He couldn't exactly move to attack the Raccoon, so this fleeting conversation was his only past-time whilst they made their way towards Xandar, where he'd be handed into the Nova Corps. He was bound by his wrists and ankles, leaving him virtually useless for the time being.

Rocket looked visibly disgusted for a moment, or maybe it was just an act. He tilted his head up and wrinkled his nose.

"Trust me, you're no looker." He quickly retorted, but anyone who was good at reading people would have noticed the very brief, very subtle tremor in his voice that accompanied a lie. The Crocodile was even more intrigued now. Not many had the nerve to lie to his face.

"You are. You smell of it. We Mecistops might not have a good sense of smell, but I can pick it up, at the very least. I can also tell that you are lying." The Crocodile spoke rather simply and plainly, as if the very notion was tantalising in itself, and Rocket merely looked away from him. He was sitting cross-legged, still tinkering with the metal and building what looked to be some sort of handgun with it.

"And I know..." He began, quirking an eyebrow and snapping his gaze up to the Crocodile. "That you, Scarsnout, are a manipulative monster."

"Hm. My reputation precedes me," The Crocodile, aptly named Scarsnout for his rather damaged looking snout, replied with a hint of amusement in his tone. "But this does not change facts."

"Ain't no facts to be found here, pal." Rocket snarled in response, almost done with whatever tinkering he was working on. He wasn't paying attention to the prisoner, who's sharp claw was already pressing into the bindings that held his wrists together. He had managed to scrape a hole in it, enough to loosen the entire structure.

In an instant, he pulled his hands apart and the cuffs that were on his hands, rudimentary and plain, snapped. With that, it only took a bit of work to snap off the chains to his ankles, leaving him free to run amok in the ship. Though, with that, there was little space, so it wasn't as if he could go and hide. Instead, his eyes were on a different prize: the Pilot.

Rocket scrabbled to his feet and attempted to leap for the controls, his gun just underneath the main console. Scarsnout managed to grab Rocket by his ankle, and he flung him over his shoulder. The Raccoon sailed through and the air hit the wall with a satisfying 'thud', and he crumpled to the ground, clutching his stomach. The force of the impact had taken the wind out of him. He gritted his teeth, glaring up at the Crocodile as Scarsnout slowly made his way towards him.

"What're you gonna do, huh? Kill me, take control of the ship?" Rocket spat out, and Scarsnout stared down at him for a moment, eventually squatting, tilting his head.

"Why would I do that?" Scarsnout asked casually, slowly getting into his knees and shuffling a little closer. Rocket's heart pounded in his chest, his breathing heavy as the Crocodile's hands drew closer and closer. He thought for sure that he was going to die, that this criminal was going to kill him.

Instead, those hands pressed against his chest, stroking across his rather basic form, and Rocket froze, his eyes widening. His nose wrinkled and curled, and he was unsure whether to attack or to sink into it. Those hands were enormously large, covering at least half his body a piece, and despite the Crocodile's cold blood, they were oddly soothing to his body. He wanted them more, but at the same time, he knew what this was: just more manipulation.

He lashed out with a hand and his fist connected with the bottom of the Crocodile's chin. Scarsnout grunted in response, and as Rocket lashed out with another fist, he grabbed it in his hand. He forced both of the Raccoon's hands together and balled them up, holding them above his furred head like makeshift handcuffs, and that remaining single hand continued to stroke him.

"What're you doing...?" Rocket snarled out, squirming against the grip.

"Isn't it obvious? You are interesting. I am attracted to interesting people. Your denial fascinates me."

"Y...You like me?" Rocket spluttered. He couldn't deny to himself deep down that the Crocodile was, well, definitely quite attractive, in his own rugged way, and in that previous hour of silence, he had definitely had a number of wandering thoughts about his body, which he had scalded himself for.

"N...No, I can't." Rocket uttered a pitiful comeback as the Crocodile's tongue suddenly skittered across his furred neck. His skin prickled with desire, his loins aching for more than just that scandalous, light touch. He yearns for the lizard's arms around him, yearned for him to touch him lower, deeper. He struggled with his hands, his wrists bound by a single, tight fist.

"I can tell you want this," The Lizard mumbled quietly, raking his pronounced snout over the grey-brown fur. "You don't think I can smell it on you?"

"That's...that's not...!" Rocket couldn't even fathom a response as he felt those large teeth suddenly press into his skin. He couldn't help himself; a low, shuddering groan escaped his lips as his muscles practically melted at the feeling. Fuck.

As Scarsnout kissed and fondled lower, he heard a sound dance across his ear holes. His steel criminal heart didn't quite recognise what it was at first, until he realising: the Raccoon was sniffling. His head pulled back and he stared down unblinkingly at the Raccoon, his eyes following the trail of tears running down his cheeks.

"...You are crying. You're not meant to cry when you are about to have sex." The Lizard spoke it matter-of-factly, have no filter for these kind of delicate matters, and his grip loosened on the Raccoon's wrists. Rocket quickly wiped the tears from his eyes and looked away.

"It's nothin'." He blurted out amidst his snivelling, and the lizard cupped the Raccoon's cheek, directing his gaze back so that their eyes could meet.

"You are a bad liar." The Crocodile spoke softly, barely above a whisper, and it gave Rocket chills.

"I just...I'm not gay, an'..."

"I already said you were a bad liar. You do not have to try and sway my opinion."

"I'm not good with the mushy stuff, 'kay? I...I can't be into guys. It's..."

"Wrong? Abhorrent? Against nature?" The Lizard mumbled quietly, leaning a little closer as his hand slid over Rocket's chest, pressing against his jumpsuit. "This is the age of progression. Men marry men every day. Do all halfworlders share your view?"

"S'not that," Rocket retorted, rubbing his eyes. "It's coz of this. This very thing! Pinnin' me...rubbing me up, n' shit. I can't...if people knew I was into guys, it's...fair game, right? They're gonna see a small...'rodent', who likes dick, and they're gonna think I'm weak. Easy pickin's."

"You are one of the strongest men I know. You managed to capture and fell me, where men taller and physically stronger than you have prevailed."

"But it was so easy fo' you to just overpower me--"

"Rocket," The lizard interrupted him, tracing his lips against the Raccoon's head. "Hide yourself to the world all you want, but those you love should see the real you."

There was a moment of silence between the two of them. Scarsnout let go of Rocket's hands, and the Raccoon raised them up, curling his fingers around the Lizard's loose jacket. He lowered his gaze, the tears brimming in his eyes. He was weak.

"What if I hurt you?" He choked out, barely above a whisper, and the Lizard reached down to cup his cheek with a large, scaled hand.

"You wont."

Their eyes met, and in that moment, he knew the Crocodile spoke the truth. Whatever he had done, whatever crimes he had committed, it didn't matter in that single moment. There was chemistry, connection, wanting. The attraction between the two of them was palpable in the air, and it was finally reaching it's peak.

Scarsnout lowered his head, and the end of his snout grazed across the Raccoon's lips. His tongue slipped from his mouth and the tip touched lightly to Rocket's snout, and soon enough, the Raccoon's own tongue stuck out slightly to meet it. The two kissed, and in that moment, nothing else mattered. The hum of the ship was drowned out in Rocket's ears, and all he could focus on was the electric feeling coursing through his body. Whatever this was, he didn't want it to end.

Those large hands were on him again, and this time, he didn't resist. He leant into them as a shaky, teary exhale escaped his lips, and Scarsnout's mouth trailed down again to trail across his fur. A large claw slipped against the Raccoon's jumpsuit, catching the zipper and slowly pushing it down as Rocket's hands gripped at that large jacket, slightly pulling it down against the Crocodile's body, slipping it back his shoulders.

Scarsnout moved them, taking off his jacket completely and laying it against the floor, before he laid Rocket down upon it, his jumpsuit half-parted to expose his furred chest. The large Crocodile's hands stroked along the Raccoon's hips and up to his chest, touching and exploring him in every which way. Rocket practically quivered and trembled beneath him, unable to do anything but hold onto the Crocodile, scared he might suddenly disappear.

Slowly, the jumpsuit moved lower and lower, exposing more and more of the Raccoon with each passing second, until more than just his furred chest was revealed. Scarsnout followed the direction of the jumpsuit with his mouth, kissing and licking across the furred chest and down to the stomach, before his lips met with the pelvis. Rocket tensed up immediately and looked anxious, watching as the jumpsuit was tugged off his feet, leaving him completely in the nude. His erection, a stunning 4 inch humanoid cock, prodded right up against Scarsnout's chin, and the Crocodile slowly angled his mouth to lightly graze across his member.

Rocket let out a shuddering groan as he felt a large, warm, wet tongue around his member, coiling and curling around his small cock with a surprising amount of dexterity. He squirmed beneath the assault for just a moment, reaching down to shakily grip the Crocodile's snout. A small, vulnerable moan escaped his lips.

Then, just like that, the tongue was gone and Rocket peeked open his eyes to see the Crocodile tugging off his shirt, exposing his broad, scaled chest. He leant back over the Raccoon again, reaching down to tug himself out of his trousers, exposing a rather large, slitted cock. The base was bulbous, and Rocket was certain that it was a knot. It had to be at least 8 inches in length, cone-shaped and tapering at the end, similar to your average lizard.

"Are you scared?" Scarsnout asked, leaning over the Raccoon and making his erection plainly obvious. "I want to fuck you, and make you cum just from being fucked. You want that, don't you?"

Rocket couldn't help but nod. He didn't want to be considered a 'bottom bitch', but he desperately wanted this. He felt the Crocodile's cock pressing down against him, dragging across his inner thigh and down further, until it eventually smeared between his cheeks. Rocket arched his back, and the Crocodile put a hand underneath his body, lifting his rump up.

"I want to hear you say the words." Their voices were quiet, barely above a whisper, and the tension in the air was thick and electric. Rocket's breathing was quick, alight with desire and passion, and he reached up to wrap his arms around the Crocodile's neck.

"Please." He only had to utter the word, and the Crocodile gave it to him. As soon as the word left his lips, he felt the tip pressing and pushing it's way into his taut behind, stretching his ring and sinking deeper. He let out a quivering gasp, and he pulled Scarsnout's head down closer, burying his head into the Crocodile's neck. It felt so good, but it also felt so wrong.

Scarsnout was probably the most gentle partner he could have wished for. He stuffed himself in a couple of inches, before he began to rock and thrust, taking it slow. With each thrust, he slid in slightly deeper, and he barely made a sound. The mere sound of Rocket's gasps and moans of delight and pleasure was enough to arouse and tantalise him, coaxing dollops of pre-cum from the end of his member as it slid deeper and deeper.

Eventually, he was at least half-way, and he was still going. He was beginning to meet resistance, but it didn't matter. Rocket was letting out small grunts now instead of moans, feeling a slight amount of discomfort as the cock stuffed deeper, but he relaxed and loosened himself, desperate to take more. He lightly brushed his lips against the Crocodile's neck, kissing and pressing against him. It was heaven. It felt incredible, and he didn't want it to end.

Soon, those thrusts began to speed up, and the Crocodile began to move into deep, long thrusts, taking advantage of the entire length of his cock. He pulled back right to the tip and thrust in to about halfway, over and over. His thick member constantly grazed against Rocket's prostate, and his own small cock was pulsing weakly against his stomach, pooling pre-cum against his fur and matting it.

"D-Don't stop..." He begged, and Scarsnout had no intention of doing so. His thrusts only grew more intense over time, until he was eventually groaning and grunting with each hump and pound. He was eventually able to slide his entire length into Rocket's backside, his knot bumping up against the tight ring. He could feel every clench and squeeze, every spasming of Rocket's muscles around his cock, and it coaxed even more pre-cum from his member.

Rocket could feel something building in him. A pleasure like no other was welling up within his loins and he yearned for it to come to it's peak. Luckily for him, the Crocodile was just what he needed: with each thrust and hump, a gentle, more prominent groan escaped his lips, until he felt the pressure becoming too much.

"Almost there, almost...Please...!" Rocket choked out, and he was sent over the edge. A weak gasp escaped his lips, and his cock pulsed and twitched, before he orgasmed. Thick spurts of cum shot from the end of his member in hot, wet strings, splattering across his stomach and pooling down around his upper pelvis. His tight behind squeezed and gripped with each convulsion, milking the Crocodile's cock as he thrust.

Scarsnout, too, let out a short grunt of pleasure, and began to slow down as he felt his member pulsing and throbbing. A jet of cum spurted from the end of his member and right into Rocket's insides, and his knot swelled a little, eager for him to tie with the Raccoon. He had a little more restraint than a common animal, however, and he began to slow, breathing hard through his nose. The pleasure was immense, and it was made all the more sweeter by the trembling, panting Raccoon beneath him.

Once his orgasm subsided, the Crocodile rolled off of the Raccoon, settling in beside him and propping himself up on an elbow. He watched the Raccoon staring up at the ceiling, panting harshly in his post-coital state. He glanced to the Crocodile, and then looked back up again.

"We shou--"

"Don't ruin the moment." Scarsnout spoke over him, and Rocket listened for once, keeping his mouth shut. He glanced over towards the Crocodile again, before he slowly shuffled towards him on his back. He hesitated for a moment, before leaning against him and placing his hand on his chest. In turn, he felt a large arm around him, holding him close.

"Are you still going to turn me in?" Scarsnout asked quietly, and Rocket visibly tensed.

"...Did you seduce me just so I couldn't turn you in?" This time, it was Rocket's turn to get hurt, but Scarsnout quickly pulled him down against his chest again, despite his wriggling.

"No. Send me down if you must. You simply...intrigued me. I cannot let someone as interesting as you slide." He muttered, and that make Rocket slow down, at least for a moment.

"...Why? Why am I interesting?" He asked quietly, and that took some thinking.

"...You always look as if you are battling something, even when there is nothing to fight. I want to know who you are, what you are, and what makes you tick, Rocket."

There was silent between them for a moment, Rocket's eyes drifting across those smooth, green scales.

"Maybe you'll get the chance." He muttered, and Scarsnout smirked in response.

"Maybe I will."