FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

Tickles shuddered, pulling his jacket tighter around him to shield himself from the crisp evening wind as he walked to his destination. He pulled out his phone to check the map, snorting happily to see he was closing in on his destination, a house sitting off on its own on the edge of town. The pink, chubby pig wasn't super excited about having to work on All Hallow's Eve, the night before Halloween, but money was tight. So tight, in fact, it sent him scouring Greg's List for an odd job that didn't look too suspect. He'd found a post looking for a security guard for a private part, which seemed perfect as that was what he did already (hence the authoritative uniform he was wearing), and the pay seemed pretty good for the work. Of course the fact the ad specified a pig was a little odd, as was the request he be "as unarmed as possible," but he put it down to eccentricity.

An electronic ding from his phone let him know he'd reached his destination, though it was thinking there must've been some sort of glitch. The house was old, shabby, dark, and seemingly abandoned; dense, skeletal woods framed it from behind. He gulped as he heard a howl echo out through the night, mingling with the rustling of millions of dead leaves and the hooting of owls. He was about to cut his losses and leave, chalking it up to a Halloween prank, when a yellowed porch light popped on, illuminating the ornate front door with a handwritten sign taped on it. Against his better judgment Tickles followed the cracked stone path from the empty sidewalk up to the equally empty porch, ancient boards creaking under his weight.

The sign on the door, a simple piece of lined paper hastily torn from a spiral notebook, said "PLEASE RING BELL" in red ink with an arrow pointing to a button to the right. He shrugged and pushed the button, instantly regretting it as the formerly solid floor beneath him gave way. He squealed as he fell into darkness.

What happened to him as he fell was a mystery, both to him and to anyone who might one day want to retell the story, but the next thing he knew he was wrapped tightly in white, mummy-like bandages from neck to ankles and three thick leather straps held him perfectly still on a table. As his eyes adjusted to the low light he took in his surroundings. He was in what appeared to be a basement with surprisingly high stone walls. To his right was a table covered in a strange mishmash of mechanical parts and more esoteric paraphernalia, but of more concern to him was what lay on the table to his left; a huge pile of feathers! He lifted his head up as much as he could and his struggling increased tenfold as he was confronted with four more tables, each containing canines of a species he couldn't quite make out from his position, bound like him but blindfolded and firmly muzzled, their bare paws being mercilessly scrubbed by automatically spinning brushes!

"Don't mind them," said a sudden voice from a darkened corner he couldn't see, "apparently pugs can't tell the difference between an 'I' and a 'U' in a written ad."

Tickles looked again and he realized all four of the tormented canines were, in fact, pugs. Further thought was broken as music suddenly filled the room. His eyes darted back to the corner and saw for the first time, presumably, the fur who'd captured him as he stood over an old turntable. It was a white wolf, blue mohawk dropping slightly towards the front of his head, dressed simply in black tshirt, holey jeans and dirty red Converses. The pig mentally chastised himself for the stirring in his pants as he looked the wolf's body, a rather attractive mix of chubby and muscular, over.

"Hope you don't mind Billy Taylor, but Wombie Zombie always puts me in the Halloween mood. Anyway, I'm being dreadfully rude aren't I?"

He walked over and gently settled a large paw on the bound pig's chest, "I'm Raal, pleasure ta meet ya!"

"W-w-why are y-y-y-you d-d-d-oing this," Tickles questioned, trying to sound demanding and in control but utterly failing to hide his fear.

"For this," he said, grabbing a large, leather-bound, ancient looking book from the table of various bric a brac. "This is the legendary Titillationem Ex Liber. I don't usually put much stock in all this magical claptrap, as you've probably been able to tell I'm more into machines, but I found a spell in here that I simply HAVE to try, and you're gonna provide the final ingredient! Thanks for that, by the way," he finished with a smile.

He moved to the opposite end of the table and began slowly, teasingly unlacing the porcine's boots.

"W-wait! What ingredient do you need from me!?"

"Hmm? Oh, I'm gonna cut off your feet."

"WHAT," Tickles screamed, struggling with such ferocity the table hopped and shifted.

"Hey hey, just kidding," he responded with a grin and a chuckle, gripping the heels of both the pig's black boots and tugging until they popped off, leaving his moist, wiggling feet clad just in a pair of thick black socks. Raal held one fragrant boot up to his muzzled and inhaled deeply.

"Oh yeah, that's the stuff," he said lustfully before lifting the other boot up and taking in its scent as well. "Welp, I guess you do deserve an answer. Ya see, the one ingrediant I have left is, and I quote, 'The Tortured Laughter of a Pig on All Hallow's Eve.'"

"No no no, you can't do this to me! Please let me go, please," the pig protested, but only halfheatedly. His cock was already rockhard and straining against the prison of both pants and bandages at the thought of what this crazy wolf was going to do to him. His erection didn't go unnoticed.

"Now now, no need to worry, I'll let you go...eventually. Besides, looks like you won't mind being my sorcerer's apprentice all that much."

As Tickles continued to keep up the pretense of being un unwilling victim by squirming against his bonds, Raal gripped his socks by the toes and pulled. The pig gulped, both in fear and excitement, as he felt the top of the thick cotton slide over his tender pink soles and toes, baring them to the warm air. His eyes went wide as a long brush wheel, like those tormenting those poor pugs without mercy, was moved in front of his feet until their soft-but-firm green bristles were pressed against the soles of his feet. It was large enough to completely cover the bottom of both feet, from heels to the base of his toes. He thought for a moment his unbearably sensitive toes would be spared, but then the white wolf attatched a series of tiny thin brushes that fit between them perfectly.

"Ready," Raal asked, finger on the Start button.

"Would it matter if I said 'no?'"

"Hmm...I guess not!"

From the very second the glowing green button was depressed, setting the torturing brushes to life, the pig was lost in a swirling tornado of ticklish agony, bucking uselessly against the straps and bandages furiously as he screamed his laughter out to the world. The brushes were brutal, their bristles scrubbing away at his excruciatingly sensitive flesh so efficiently it was like there was not flesh and it was his open nerves being tickled and teased into oblivion. He tried desperately to move away from them, but they were pressed close enough to provide no real wiggle room whatsoever. His chubby body was sweating profusely thanks to the torment at his feet and the subtly rising temperature of the room, thoroughly soaking his cloths.

If his eyes weren't squeezed shut and streaming tears from his uncontrollable mirth, he would've noticed the pile of feathers on the table beside him start to glow purple, weak at first but rapidly growing in color and intensity. He also didn't notice Raal cutting a hole in the bandages right over his crotch until it was already done and his fingers were slowly drawing down the zipper of his pants. His wild laughter mingled with moans as the wolf pulled his pink cock, hard as steel and shiny from sweat and precum, out of his fly and started stroking his shaft.

"You're helping me," he said, reading the question in the pig's mind, "so it's only fair I help you out as well!"

The purple light which seemed to be coming from each individual feather in the pile on the table grew brighter and brighter, until it actually hurt for Raal to look directly at it as he pumped the pig's cock faster and faster. He watched Tickles balls draw up ever so slightly with a smile on his face, and as his porcine prisoner splattered himself with cum there was a sudden violent surge of light. It quickly dissipated and suddenly the bound pig in front of him, which would normally hold 100% of his attention, was the last thing on his mind.

"Holy hamburger," he exclaimed happily, hitting the Stop button on the brushes "it worked!!"

Finally free of the tormenting brushes and slowly but surely regaining his breath he glanced over at what the white wolf was looking at. He audibly gasped as he saw the pile of feathers was no longer just a pile of feathers on a table, but feathers in the shape of a bipedal creature standing next to the table!

"W-w-what is THAT!?"

"That's a feather golem, baby," Raal answered excitedly, absentmindedly licked some of Tickles jizz from his fingers, "I think I'll name him Giggles."

"A...feather golem?"

"You bet! I have so many cute furs to tickle but with so little time; I am just one little wolf after all! Now I have something that's more responsive than any of my machines to help out my productivity."

He leaned in close to the pig's floppy ear conspiratorily. "And between you and me, I'm looking forward to see just what he can do myself!"

Raal took a hanky from his pocket and gently wiped sweat from Tickle's forehead, noting with amusement his captive was still hard.

"Although, I do have you hear now. Hey Giggles, get ready for your first command, I think this piggy's cock is still beggin' for your attention!"

Tickles' eyes popped open wide in terror as the animated feather creature moved towards him, plumed fingers reached out for his genitals. It was a Halloween he was sure to remember!