FSE

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formerly SoFurry search engine

Hey everybody! I'll be posting the next chapter to Longing tomorrow, but it's not going to have yiff. So, for those interested in that... I've started a little side project, and here's the first page. Let me know what you all think. It's going to be dark, morbid, a little weird, but hopefully interesting. At the end of everything, I'll post my inspirations for this bit. Also, comments, questions, concerns, complaints, and the like; please ask or tell me anything that comes to mind. I'm hoping to let this one be audience input driven, so give me your ideas! As always, enjoy!

Lucas

PS The site layout really screws with my browser and everything. I'm going to recheck this thing like 3 times to make sure it's up to par, but if there's a glitch I miss, please inform me.

The smoky haze hung in the air, like a choking fog of brimstone and sulphur. The ringing in my ears still sounded ceaselessly, with no end in sight. My eyes took a moment to readjust to the dimmed room, as I rubbed them, hoping to clear them of the double images... I had to make sure it worked...

Sluggishly, my arm lifted itself, extending slowly from my body. I stumbled forward, when the room suddenly tilted; my stomach heaved, and I wanted to wretch. I fell to the floor, catching myself before I smacked face-first. Realizing the importance, I dragged myself forward, on my knees, scrapping them against the carpet. Being this close to the ground, a new smell assaulted my finely tuned nose; ash and smoke. Unfortunately, it wasn't the pleasant kind of smoke you might find at a campfire or beach bon fire; it smelled like a charnel house, smoky bodies burning, filling the air with a stink of rotten, burnt flesh. I hacked and coughed, forcing myself to fight through the agony. I didn't realize that the ringing had stopped. I would have taken it as a blessing, however I knew now that was impossible. The was a dead silence in my apartment, not even the usual low-pitched AC rumbling in the back or the hum of the heavy duty refrigerator could be heard, as was normal. I could feel my chest heave, as my breathing became heavy.

Finally, after what seemed like hours, I found myself back in the living room. However, nothing in it looked relaxing or comforting. Blood had been painted on the walls, smeared by hand in symbols long forgotten or purposefully left buried. The melted forms of 10 candles stood arranged in the center of the room, the carpet near them blackened and burned. My bookshelf had snapped, spilling the contents on the floor, pages torn out as if by a beast. My couch had been eviscerated; it's soft lining exposed and open. Springs jutted cruelly out, ripping the fabric like a torturer would pierce flesh with barbs. Various implements for channeling the arcane lay scattered, except for the tome. It's heavy vellum pages lay open on the same page I had left it open to, as it rested on the makeshift podium; amongst the chaos in the room, it stood, unmolested and seemingly impervious to the damage. A blood-red bookmark, lined in gold, rested between the pages, dangling off the end, as if the book had a tongue. The words were clear to me, even from the distance at where I was and even through the dim, smoky room. Seeing the tome, I found the strength to stand. As I dragged my feet under me, I noticed a soft hissing, like air was escaping tire. I plodded over to the podium, and located the last canto I had been reciting.

A low snarl came out of the smoke, as I cleared my throat; the unbearable heat in the room and the thick smoke had choked me, robbing me of my voice. I glanced away from the pages, a reaction; one I cursed myself for making, promising never to do it again... assuming I didn't fail here and had another chance...

A sultry voice hissed, clearly spiteful, yet at the same time alluring, "An unquenchable fire stands ready for you, mortal..."

I summoned my voice and began to recite, "Ergo draco maledicte et omnis legio diabolica..." The words gave me strength, steeling me for what was to come. I could feel my strength returning as the centuries old canto flowed from me...

From the smoke, there was a spitting hiss, then the voice cackled, "Please... you mortals all think alike. That has never worked, and never shall. You all seem to forget, once you invoke the summoning, the power of faith can no longer guide or protect you..."

The smoke made sight meaningless, however I was pretty sure whatever was there was grinning. I decided to end this farce. "Fine. I'm not afraid of you. I summoned you, and I WILL command you. I know the price and am willing to pay. Offer me your terms, let us be done with this."

I closed the book, letting it seal shut with an audible crinkle of the pages. "Ho ho. So bold," the voice softened, then continued, full of malice, "And yet, mere moments ago, you were weakly crawling along on your knees, just like the filth all mortals are. Weak, pathetic..."

"Ah yes! Pathetic, unworthy of God's unconditional love, yet, here we mortals have the power to bind you demons! What does that say about your kind? Servants to 'filth'? Hmm?" I asked, a decidedly stupid move.

The smoke cleared in a flash of blinding light, and a heat rolled over the room; I swore I could see the couch ignite, and fearful, I raised my hands to my face. The wave struck me, and was uncomfortable, yet I lived. In the clearing, a shadowy form stood. My eyes, having once readjusted to the hellfire's glare, quickly refocused. The form in the binding circle was most definitely female. A tall, curvy figure stood, its wings unfurled, as its form finally coalesced. Its features took on that of a lapine female; long ears poked out of her head, her short, soft muzzle pulled into a sneer, two buck-teeth flashing. Her fur looked incredibly soft and inviting, yet her black leather was threatening. It still looked sexy; the dark, glossy black, (expertly formed to showcase the 'assets') stood against her light purple fur, her maroon hair cut to shoulder length gave her the 'ultimate bad girl' look. She wore various leather wraps, studded with spikes, and she had a collar, also adorned with spikes. Her exposed chest, which was very well endowed, sported two pierced nipples (from where I stood, I swore they were rings with crosses attached!). Her ears were each singly studded with a ring. Her entire ensemble seemed like patchwork, as multiple straps from various other pieces of the 'outfit' came together, held fast by rings that seemed more in place with bondage gear, and it seemed two sizes too small.

In other words, she radiated sex. Not the kind of intimate closeness you would expect between lovers, or even the raw passion of need and lust, but rather the domineering and hateful sex; sex as a force or show of power, the kind you would expect from a rapist or molester. She radiated an unholy power, her very image tempting the deepest, rawest parts my soul. I could feel my body wanting to respond to her wiles, the instinctual ferocity building. I forced my eyes to look away, as I tried to imagine anything else; unfortunately, it seemed she had found a way to implant her form in my mind.

Worried I would succumb, I brought a hand to my mouth, and using my own sharp, strong lapine teeth, I bit down between my thumb and fingers, drawing blood, using the pain as an anchor. My body's heat began to discharge, as the realization of pain hit my fully. Unfortunately, we lapines can do some serious damage when we needed to, and under the circumstances, I forgot to hold back. I cleaved a section of flesh off my hand, tasting it on my tongue, and I spit it out, disgusted. The agony I felt in my hand flared up, and I wanted to wail in pain. I clenched my fingers together into a fist, and forced my hand's pains out of my mind. The blood flowed from the wound, dripping onto the already stained carpet.

I watched her reaction. At first, while I battled my inner self, she stood rigid, watching me intently, her eyes glowing red. As soon as I bit my hand, she smiled, only for a moment, and then sneered, her gaze fixating on the freely flowing blood. She licked her lips, her long tongue sexily moving over her mouth (What she could probably do with that!) and I noticed she also had fangs; they were hidden and must have extended. She had two sets, both framing her two, front buck-teeth. Lifting her eyes to meet mine (Every move she made was a calculated, intensely sexual move) and she grinned. Finally she spoke, "Ah! A mortal able to resist my initial charms. It has been many years..."

"Behold, foul temptress, I am not under your influence. I SUMMONED YOU, and YOU SHALL OBEY!" I boomed.

She laughed; it sounded like the chiming of crystal glasses. "I shall obey only the one who pays my price, and a hefty price it is..."

I rolled my eyes, "Here it comes," I thought to myself. "Yes, name your price, so that I may pay and this can all end soon."

She focused her gaze on my eyes, making me want to cringe, but I obstinately stood my ground. "Hear me mortal. Your claim to your immortal soul is forfeit, forever and in eternity, it shall be held by MY Lord, who is now your Master, to suffer in agony and torment as HE sees fit. A thousand deaths await you, inconceivable, excruciating pain will be HIS to exact on you, and worms will feast on your soul and flesh. The light of the divine is forever darkened to you, the holiness of the Creator forever denied to you. This is the price you must pay, do you accept?"

She stepped to the edge of the ring, pressing against an intangible wall of force, causing her breasts to seem flattened; admittedly a very alluring sight.

"Demoness, I accept your terms, and understand the damnation I now shall suffer at your Master's hands and from those he chooses to have inflict punishment upon me. (Wow! Even I noticed the distinctive capitalization. I wonder...) I stepped forward, reaching through the barrier I had purposefully erected, extending my bloodied hand to her awaiting muzzle. Her eyes flashed with wickedness, and she asked, "Then name your price, ye of lost faith."

"Taste of my blood, drink deeply and gaze into my damned soul. See for yourself what I want..."

She arched an eyebrow, clearly confused, but she tilted her head and moved it towards my hand. Opening her mouth, her fangs fully extended, her tongue lolling out, she bit down on the already sheared flesh; her fangs stung, her breath was like blistering steam, her spittle like acid. It took all my willpower not to cry out, as she took her time to drink deeply of my wound; I could see the blood flowing down her chin, leaving crimson trails, causing her soft neck fur to clump. She slurped at my flesh, as the pain flared to unbearable heights; reflexively I wanted to pull my hand away, but I forced myself to stand.

After what seemed like hours, she pulled away, about to say something. However, her pupils widened, her vision became unfocused, as she tilted her head towards me in confusion. She sputtered, trying to put together words, but I shushed her. "Speak not, obey my will, do as you have witnessed." I commanded. She nodded; the blank look on her face making her look cute, a welcome change from the perpetual sex fiend look. "I shall obey, but to do as I commanded, I must take of a sacrifice. We succubi draw our power from one source... One, you are very familiar with."

"Aye, demoness, I know of what you speak. So be it." I spoke, softly, the words nearly choking me. "However, I should like to know the name of this one, if I may be so bold?" I stroked a cheek, feeling her fur, and even it was warm and soft, however, it was soft like a steel sponge is soft; my hand bled as I grated it against her. (They truly are demonic, not a single part on them not designed for torment...)

"As you wish. They call me Nazarina." She spoke her name, and I could feel the power of command inherent in it. Despite her position in Hell, even she was a prisoner, with a master keeping her chained.

"Nazarina?" I asked, carefully making sure of the pronunciation. She visibly winced, as her fur stood a bit on end. She remained silent, as if awaiting orders; I smiled, knowing I had heard the syllables correctly.

I disrobed, letting my cheap bathroom coat fall to the floor. I wore nothing underneath. I had dressed accordingly, knowing fully well what was expected. She gazed over my aged flesh, and grinned. I had taken care of myself, even after my wife had passed away. My children worried for my health, but I was a stubborn fool. I kept in shape, for the most part. At least, I had, until the unfortunate accident where I fell in my shower. I spent many months in bed, and so I had gotten lazy, and it showed. My fur was unwashed, and covered in sweat, my muscles long since atrophied. My stomach hung heavy, hiding my toes from my sight, and chest wheezed as I felt my old heart still beating, unaware of its own future. (I'm sure, if it was, it would have stopped there, as a sort of 'Serves-you-right'.) My own lapine ears stood weakly, bent and floppy, as clear signs of my age. My hair, once thick and chestnut brown, was tangled, wispy and stained the color of bleached wood. Not appealing at all. Despite my infirm, aging flesh, my mind was still sharp as ever, a blessing I suppose. Well, at one point it could have been considered that; not now, definitely not now.

She beckoned me with a curling of her finger, the seductive motion clouding my mind, putting my burdened soul at ease. I stepped forward into the circle, and into her embrace. The smoke, despite its clinginess, was not choking me, and her touch seemed softer. At this point, I could clearly see that, in fact, her nipples were pierced with crosses on rings. I smirked and she noticed. "Mortal, your kind always seems to find this amusing, because you do not understand," she brought a hand up to her chest, and toyed with a cross (The kick I felt from my groin was also not unnoticed.) She continued, "It is merely a symbol. Without proper faith, it is meaningless."

Before I could respond, she leaned close, and forced her tongue into my unwilling mouth. At first I wanted to fight it, but its snakelike length and power awoke in me something. I could taste my blood on her, mixed with decayed flesh, yet it was alluring. I felt a stirring below the belt. Her tongue, (I think it is forked) explored my mouth and throat, as she seemed to taste me, toying with my sensitive, mortal nerves. I gave in and forced my tongue to meet hers, pushing hers back up mostly out of my throat. We eagerly licked and slurped at each other, battling it seemed, before I had to break for air. She smiled, and I realized then she didn't need to breath. She beckoned for me to lie down, and I did. Lying on my back, I could feel the wax of some of the candles against my fur. The dried, burnt carpet itched against me also.

She straddled my chest, weighing nothing, and pinched at her nipples, tugging on the rings, grinning wickedly. Her wings unfurled fully, blocking the sun from window. In the silhouette, her eyes glowed red. Without shifting, her form seemed to flow, almost appearing to twist entirely around. (It would have been unbelievable, had I not seen it, and even then, the quickness, it made me mistrust my eyes!) One moment, she was facing me, her black leather outfit pressed close to my face, her breasts hanging out; the next, her ass is front of me, the leather having morphed into two straps running the length of her body, studded all the way. Her naked form hovered close above me, her own 'dedicates', I suppose, bared and spread, already eager and wet. The straps formed a V, ending just under her cottontail, leaving an indication of a tailhole. Shaking my head free of the spell, before I became fully ensorcelled, I noticed she had a locket, or lock pierced through her clit, tugging at the fleshy nub. I was going to ask, but I felt her serpentine tongue snake its way along my length, drawing me out of my sheathe. I moaned, the incredible warmth unequaled by any mortal woman, as she moved her muzzle down.

She took a hand, to firmly grasp my hardening cock, and gripped me tight. She moved her short muzzle over my cock, sealing her lips around the thickness. Her spittle burned, but less so now than earlier. I felt myself twitch, throbbing in her mouth and I tried to thrust up, but she held me down, pinned to the floor. I breathed deeply of her scent, as her own juices seemed to flow, coating her nethers, causing the soft fur there to dampen. She brought her other hand to buttocks, hooking her pinky under a strap. She lifted slightly, exposing fully her cute tailhole, and began to toy with herself. With her other free fingers, she spread herself even more widely, letting the gather juice drip onto my chest. It burned like acid in intensity, yet it forced awake the beast of desire in me. Without needing further prompt, my mind getting shut out, I raised my own muzzle to meet her folds, and lapped at her. She tasted bitter; a mix of sweat, sulphur and ash. I gagged, but continued unabated. I knew I didn't want to, but I couldn't help it. I needed to. While I worked at her, she bobbed up and down on my manhood, her hot, burning breath and tight, sealed lips causing agony and bliss. I wanted to scream, but I couldn't as I was busy myself. She rocked her hips gently as my strong, well used tongue flicked over her lips, exploring her folds. I lapped up and down between her lips, occasionally using my teeth to pinch and nibble at her petals.

She made no sound, leaving that all to me. I moaned softly, in pain and pleasure, my lapping and flicking tongue slapping against her flesh. I felt myself rapidly approaching the edge. She knew, of course. She smiled, her teeth gleaming, even as my cock kept being engulfed by her warm, wet muzzle. I tried to kick, or thrust, as I felt my sac draw close. I knew I was about to blow, but she released my rod, and instead seized my balls. It was painful, and her claws probably drew blood, but I hit the edge like a brick wall. She tugged at my viciously, clamping on my manhood, as I felt the first few jets shoot powerfully into her throat, coating her in thick, creamy spunk. Thankfully, because she needed no air, she stayed sealed over me as I continued to fire off, the long overdue pleasure finally sated. She kept her eyes locked with mine, at least while they were open. The incredible build-up and release forced my eyes to roll in the back of my head, and I sealed my eyelids shut, trying to empty everything into her awaiting maw. After many long moments, I felt my heart beating rapidly, my chest heaving and my toes so curled, they might never straighten out. I sighed, in relief that I felt nothing. How unfortunate I was unable to savor the moment. The demoness, Nazarina, popped off my rapidly softening erection, and smiled. Not a drop of my seed anywhere. (The girl could really swallow!) I grinned sheepishly, bringing a hand to rub my head. She said, in a hushed whisper, "To complete the ritual, you must drink deeply of the sacrifice. Only then can my power aid you."

I nodded and replied, "Of course. What must I do to drink of it?"

She smiled, and her form flowed, resetting so that she was now on all fours, pinning me, her breasts on my chest, and her mouth inches from mine. I could feel sweat gather on my forehead, and I looked around, unsure of what was next. She locked her muzzle to mine, and I could taste my blood and spunk. Her tongue moved, and I tasted more of myself than I cared to. Instead of swallowing, she had apparently kept it in her throat. She forced up my own cream, and pushed it into my mouth. I was disgusted and wanted to pull away, but she extended her fangs, which pierced my lips, keeping me close. Her tongue flicked and dripped my own seed all over my mouth, the bitter stickiness making me gag. Somehow, despite our closeness and use of her mouth, she said, clearly, "You must take of it. I have infused some of my immortal essence with it, which will grant you part of what you desire."

Squeezing my eyes shut, I blocked out my tasted receptors and obeyed. I swallowed, trying to get as much down as I could as quickly as I could. I had no idea I had been so pent up. With my dear wife's passing, the physical pleasure held little meaning for me. In fact, I couldn't remember the last time I had given myself enjoyment. Perhaps, that was another reason my children were worried for me. I always was sort of a grouch, and even more so after Lily died. Finally, her tongue receded and she said, "It is done. Stand, and gaze at my work. For you are mine, and I yours."

I blinked, and hastily stood. My body felt rejuvenated, and fresh. Normally, my legs would have buckled, but not now. I grinned, gazing over my muscled arms, a sight I hadn't seen in years. I looked down across my chest, and could seen the defined abs I had when I young. No longer were my toes hidden from me. My fur was a vibrant brown again, and as I shook my head, long, glorious locks flowed in front of my eyes. I couldn't help but smile. Even the wound on my hand had healed. I almost jumped with joy. Then I remembered I wasn't yet finished.

I took a calming breath, and looked at Nazarina. I locked eyes with her, and said, "Now, take me home fiend. It is time for me to meet MY Master. Of course, let's take the long road..."