FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

When the world doesn't need saving; it's just business. Smuggling business, mostly.

Sure, you can save the Galaxy once or twice, but once the festivities were over, life went on. And life got boring. Thankfully, Rocket Raccoon knew a thing or two about finding interesting deals. Sure, everyone celebrated when the big bads disappeared and the big explosive-terrors are removed... But no one ever pays attention to the smaller problems. The smaller community troubles.

In other words; the little guys. And that was something he wasn't about to just overlook.

The job was simple: collect the crate-boxes of fragile, delicate medical equipment (government stolen of course), and deliver them to one of the outposts bordering off-grid on the edges of the asteroid belt. And with his new scout-class ship, driving through should be a breeze. All he had to do, was not drive suspiciously, nor jostle the goods, and it should be a clear path from point A to point Money.

The small, bipedal raccoon then sunk down into his new mission-assigned ship, a satisfied groan leaving him. His paw-padded fingers trail down along the arm-rests of his size-fitted chair. A toothy grin pulls at his mouth, "Love that new ship smell." Before he could admire his new purchase any further however, the navigator screen lit up with an oncoming call.

With a flick of a switch, Rocket slouched in his chair as he greeted the small hare on the other side. "Evenin', boss. How's the route lookin'?"

"Should be clear for take-off. You got what we need?"

"Yea. The tall one was a bit of a pain to deal with but, it's all locked and loaded. You got sights on the route?"

"It's looking clear. Shouldn't be longer than two hours with space this open."

"Bet you I can make it in one."

"What?" The violet-hued hare gave a frown on the other side of the console screen, "How do you plan on doing that?"

Rocket grinned, snout wrinkling up with mischievous pride. "I've got a plan, don't worry about it. Just get your money ready and we'll keep in touch for the ride."

"Well... Alright." The hare couldn't keep the worry out of their voice. "Remember to keep in touch if anything goes down."

"Roger that." Rocket flicked the switch off, clearing the view of the open space-scape beyond.

With a toothy grin, rocket gripped either steering joysticks on either side of him, and pulled against the ship's resistance. With a graceful lift, and only the slightest of internal shifts, the vessel sped out of the asteroid's cavern to take to the hyperspace highway.

"Two hours, tch... What are they thinking, that I'm a tourist or somethin'?" Rocket muttered as he adjusted the consoles, flicking switches and overriding the system's own automatic navigation system. "I ain't here for no joy ride..."

The vessel wove through drifting rocks with the ease of thread slipping through the eye of a needle. One hand on steering, the other still working on tearing apart wires to further customize the ship on the fly. Taking up a wired box, he shoves it gracelessly into the console, lights flicking on along the panel. A radar flicks on, soon displaying dots on the move. Many dots.

Each of those radar-dots owned by a government security ship. Rocket's eyes widened, and he's quick to bank the ship in a rough left, moving to narrowly dodge one blue-marked security vessel that would've crossed paths with him. Shielded around by the massive floating rock, he took a moment to catch his breath. "Boss?"

The console's comm system flickered on, "Yes?"

"I thought you said the skies were clear!"

"Yes, well, the skies WOULD be clear if you didn't decide to start taking shortcuts!"

Rocket could only roll his eyes, "You could've insisted more..." He grunts. "Okay, fine, give me a new estimate."

"Well... Taking into account your new path, and the time needed to wait through the patrol routes ... We're looking at three hours, easy."

"Three hours..!?" Rocket grimaced, "Rrhh... Fine, let's just get this over with."

What should have been an easy sweep between debris and dodging just a few government ships, was now the world's most excruciating game of cat and raccoon. For ever few miles he gained, he would need to wait twice as long to avoid crossing the path of much better equipped enemy vessels. What more, making sudden sprints and jumps was out of the question; just the earlier jostle was enough to make the lab equipment gives some worrying rattle in the back of the small vessel. It was a slow, arduous, painful process. As minute turned to quarter-hours, to half hours, to finally the first hour's mark, Rocket could feel beads of sweat start to seep through his own fur.

The pressure was on, but a horrid, secondary pressure was starting to build. His eyes gave a wince, and he cast a quick look around to scan what else was on the ship.

"--What? No porta-potties? What kind of model ship is this?" He scoffed, fingers flicking through what shoddy materials he could find in the ship.

"What's that?" A voice rang through the intercom, "Did you say something?"

"Uh -- no -- just, this thing has horrible air conditioning." Rocket's nose wrinkled in distaste. "Sweating bullets in here..."

"Ah, well ... Just tough it out a while longer. By my systems, it looks like you're a quarter of the way there now. I'm going to go take a break for a bit. Be back in fifteen." And the intercom shut off.

Rocket let out a low, hissed breath. He could only swear under his breath. He clicked his tongue as he thought, knees giving a quick shuffle against each other. His eyes darted around the cockpit; maybe he could just, unzip his suit, find a bottle or some container, and --

It's then that he saw that the space vessel he had been waiting on, took a sudden unexpected turn. A cuss, and he pulls on the steering to dive out of the way. There was no -time- to risk fiddling with anything other than the navigation wheel, each second could shift a situation from one way to another. "We're just going to have to tough it out..." He muttered under his breath. Eyes forward, fingers curled around the steering grips, he put his concentration on the task ahead. Dodge, weave, inch along to his destination.

An hour shifted to an hour and a half. Two hours...

Two hours and he was really, really feeling it. His eyes squinted, watering with the full weight he felt at his bladder. His fuzzy ears sunk back against his head, and he took in a deep, hissed breath. He felt full, so full, and there wasn't a moment he could tear his attention away from the risk of getting caught. His hips shoved back and forth against the seat, fidgeting in restless need. "C'mon, c'mon, c'mon..."

"Halfway there, Rocket." The intercom helpfully reminded him -- "I KNOW! I know just -- let me concentrate!" He snapped back in turn. He took a moment to check that the visual systems were off... and then took a quick second to reach between his legs, and squeeze his own crotch through the skin-tight jumpsuit. He felt his tucked-in sheath, his sack, and while the brief squeeze brought some relief --

Two bright bursts of light erupted on the side of his view. "SHIT!" Hands back on the wheel, he swerved aside to dive away from one vessel that caught sight of him.

He dove, weaving, pushing up and down through the asteroid field and lost space debris. He recalled the warning to be careful about the lab equipment behind him -- but now he felt the slosh of movement a little too ... personally, as a warning reminder to his driving. "Aarghh..." Each sudden turn, swerve, felt like it was spinning his own internal fluids all around. The pressure built, tingling through his shaft and hitting up against the dam of his own self-restraint. Scooted forward against the leather seat, he leaned forward in effort to pin his own crotch against the chair in his effort to manoeuvre away. "Come ON!"

His foot kicked down on a lever, and the ship lunged with a burst of speed. He was shoved back against the chair in the sudden shift, gasp knocked out of his lungs. And with that, just a few drops escape the head of his shaft, speckling the front of his suit in little coin-sized spots. As quickly as the speed-burst took, the systems slowed down, and his legs crossed iron-tight. Back in control. He pants, limbs trembling under the mix of adrenaline and his own effort of restraint. "Boss! Update please!"

"Everything alright, Rocket? You sound under pressure..."

"Yeah well you try being calm after having these rats on your back for over an hour!"

"Okay, point taken. We're at ... Oh! Three quarters in, you're almost there! I'll start letting the guys know you'll be here. What do you know, you're making good time after all, haha!"

"GREAT great just, GO DO THAT Okay THANK YOU." It was all he could say to keep from swearing out a storm. His legs jiggled in their entwined grip, and he glanced out at the radar.

Clear skies. This was truly just the final sprint. The relief was enough to let him cackle -- though the cackle cut short with the risk of losing himself then and there. His eyes screwed shut, and he took in a deep, deep breath, lifting his gut in effort to pull pressure away from his full bladder. Just one more half hour. Just one more, maybe even less. Eyes on the prize, he pushed on the speed.

The vessel sped, systems slowly growing more and more stressed as they were pushed to the limit. Sweat crawled down the side of Rocket's clenched jaw, dripping down against his suit to stain it from the outside. Each added G-force was more and more weight on him, and yet ... He felt lighter, just for a moment. His body shoved back into the chair by force, he felt more of himself stick to the chair's side... and to his realization, even the pressure on his bladder let up. Pulled back with gravitational force, he let out a whooping laugh. He can make it. He can make it! His aching muscles allowed to finally relax from the stress of their hold.

At least, until he saw his destination appear. Eyes wide, he gripped back onto the wheel and pulled to reduce the speed. And all at once, weight fell on him like a ton of bricks and an oversized waterballoon. It took all he had to not let the dam crack then and there, and not bring himself to flood his space-suit, and fill the very cockpit carrying very-delicate-and-clean equipment. His knees knocked together as he let out a torrent of swears.

"Rocket! Are you okay!?" Came the alarmed voice over the intercom, "I'm opening visuals n--"

"NO don't it's-- it's fine! -- I'm -- diverting all power to the ship, don't strain it with visuals!" A bold fat lie, but hopefully the urgency got through. To his mercy, the intercom's visuals remained closed.

An uncertain voice rung through, "W-well, okay. You're cleared for landing. Do you have visual?"

Rocket squinted one eye open as he stared on ahead. A larger asteroid held a translucent, glowing grid around it. Just past the walls was a visible settlement in a desert-like environment. Brick-dirt homes and a few metallic buildings, but everything cobbled together hodgepodge. And, somewhere in all of the hazardous buildings, was the landing pad.

The ship passed through the grid with ease, and soon he could even spot ant-sized beings hurrying along the landing pad to clear it for landing. He was there, he was right there...

His body ached, the pain of restrain racing through him electic flashes. Never had he been so aware of his own bodily functions; how each breath pulled at his stomach, pushed on his organs... How his tensed legs brought some relief of pressure from his crotch, only to snap back in place whenever his tension gave out. Everything felt too hot under his suit, and he could no longer tell if he held sweat or damp piss drops along his leg. He didn't want to find out too soon. "Come ON!"

"Rocket you're coming in hot!" Came the hare's alarmed voice, "Slow down!"

"RARRGHH" Rocket could only snarl, and force the ship to slow. No point in crashing and breaking everything on arrival, or this whole fiasco would've been a waste. Switches flicked, shaky hands tapped buttons, and the other was finally allowed to properly grip his crotch proper. His fingers felt damp, and a whine muffled itself in his throat. Soon soon soon soon soon...

The vessel landed with two heavy bumps against the earth, before the deployed wheels brought the whole vessel to a stop. Frantic for freedom, Rocket just about tore himself out of his own seat-belt as the vessel's top flew open.

"Rocket! You did it!" The hare bounded up as other, more alien mammalian creatures approached the ship. "Did you bring in the sup--"

"OUTTA MY WAY I'M ARMED AND READY TO BURST--" Rocket shouted as he threw himself out of the ship, and landed down with a hard, spine-shocking thud. His hand still gripped against his crotch, fingers feeling the tip of his damp cock pocking out of his own sheath. Snarling loud enough to bring some of the people to back away, he bolted out at an awkward sprint, wild eyes searching for the nearest available out-house. "WHERE!"

"Where what--"

"WHERE D'YOU ALL PISS"

Slack-jawed, a reptilian pointed off to one remote building on the edge of the runway. Rocket didn't have to ask twice; he bolted at a sprint to the destination, each thump of boots slamming footprints into the dry dirt below.

Each thump was another knock against the balloon under his navel, liquid bouncing with each shock of weight. His breath heaved, eyes on the outhouse, but he could swear, each step he took only made the building look even further out...

He felt an arm grip his and pull him to a sudden stop, "Rocket, what the hell is wrong with you!?" The force was enough to bring Rocket to pivot around, bringing himself face to face with the hare-like, violet creature, glaring daggers into his face. "You've been acting like such a--"

The pivot and sudden stop, along with the mental surrender of no longer seeing his goal, finally did him in. Rocket couldn't even focus his gaze on the hare before him, as he felt a sudden hot, wet, warmth begin to spread at his lap and cover his sheath, balls, and crawl down his legs. "Auhhn..."

Rocket groaned, eyes rolled up in inappropriate bliss. The hare frowned, looked down -- and promptly let go of him to back up, violet face gaining a brighter shade of pink.

Rocket could only stand there, knees weak as he felt the hot piss stream pierce through the cloth of his tight jumpsuit, and trickle through his fingers to the dry dirt below. The dusty dirt grew deep, dark patches as it was colored by his raining piss. Rivulets crawled down his thighs, along his knees and into his boots, following the length of his legs. What streams weren't brought into his own boots, simply poured out of him in a broken golden arc against the ground. The coursing urine felt electric, the relief of pressure bringing a tingling sensation that felt like fingers sliding up through his fur. "Fffffuuuuck..." He shivered.

The hare could only clap their hands over their mouth as they watched on. Rocket let out enough piss to seep the surrounding dirt into a dark puddle. When the hard stream slowed to a trickle, it still went on -- just without the initial pressure-burst of his body under pressure. It was enough to bring the Raccoon back to his senses, eyes blinking sober.

He looked down on himself, watching as the stream still dribbled out of him in seemingly never-ending need. Heat exploded over his face as the growing embarrassment coursed through him. "Oh hell no..."

He brought up his piss damp hand, and pointed a sharp finger at the hare. "... I want double for this."

"...We'll... We'll figure something out." The hare mumbled through fingers. "Y-your accommodations are, over there." And they pointed off to a building just some ways away.

"Good. Enjoy your liquids." Rocket grunted, turned away, and started to march off with a certain audible squish within his boots. Drops flecked out onto the dirt, creating a trail and followed between his footprints. "No one talk to me unless it's for cleaning my shit or paying me!"

With a slam of the door, Rocket retreated to the shabby home, and let himself slouch against the wall. He sighed, groaning still as he felt the last few drops leave his body, slicking the fur of his legs flat against his limbs. He looked down at himself, watching as the large dark, damp patch was stuck skin-tight against his crotch, showing off the definition of his sheath and sack. He swallowed.

"Oh. More've show than I was intending." He muttered.

Delivery and a show. There's no arguing; Rocket knew how to deliver, goods or otherwise.

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