FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

The birds were singing, though she couldn't hear them. Through her window, out in the tree, she could see them singing their hearts out in the summer heat. Laughing, she cranked up the radio and watched the birds, like a ventriloquist's trick, singing pop songs just for her. She watched until the music sank into her bones, made her muscles twitch. When she could hold still no longer, she flung herself off her bed, closed her eyes to hold the image of birds singing top 40, and danced like a mad woman, laughing and singing along.

She wouldn't know until later that it was a perfect moment.

He twisted and turned, hands cramping with effort, eyes burning. Concentration kept him from blinking, sped his breathing, sped his heart. He dove through the ruins, weapon at the ready, firing alternately with skill and abandon as he screamed curses at the invaders. He hurled himself back from a corner as a blaze of laser fire lit the night, momentarily blinding him. The grenade bounced off the wall as it left his hand, vanishing from sight. He backed away, counting under his breath, cheering when the laser storm fell silent in a glorious fireball.

It was a perfect moment, but only a moment. A bell sounded behind him, and he fumbled his weapon, cursing once more as lasers screamed around him, striking, burning.

He set the controller down and rubbed his eyes, muttering in annoyance as he went to answer the door. The mailman smiled at him, but it was a sort of hapless smile. "Can I help you?"

The man held out the mail, and Mark glanced at it in in confusion. "Um, box is right...there..." his voice trailed off as he looked back down at small square card with candy striped edges. "Oh."

He took the mail quietly, nodded at the man and closed the door. The young wolf set the card on the coffee table and stared at it silently for a moment. Mom poked her head in the door, stirring a bowl of something. "Who was at the door?"

He pointed silently at the card.

"Oh." She turned and set the bowl in the kitchen. She came out, wiping her hands on her apron. "Read it, yet?"

Mark shook his head. Dad came down the hall wrapped in a towel, fluffing his fur. He'd just finished mowing the lawn and showering, when he'd heard the doorbell.

"Honey? Who was it?" His eyes fell on the card sitting innocently on the table. "Oh. Who?"

Mom took a steadying breath and reached for it firmly. "Like a bandage," she muttered. She flipped it over and read it.

She spun and fell back on the bed, out of breath from dancing and laughing. The door opened, and her whole family was there, looking at her.

"Mom, Dad? What's-" her eyes fell to the card as her mother held it out to her.

She took it with shaking hands and flipped it over.

Melanie Green, you have been randomly selected for processing. Please be at the curb for pickup by 7 pm.

"I...but..."

Dad took a deep breath. "I'm sorry Mel. Come on, we'll go have something to eat first."

"No! I haven't done anything wrong! I'm a straight A student, I-"

Mom stepped forward, taking her by the arms. "Honey, it's random. The meat supply needs to be kept up, the population needs to be kept down, they spun the wheel and your name came up."

"But that's not fair!"

"It's very fair, Mel, and you know it," Dad said calmly. "It can't be all volunteers and criminals. There has to be a random element to it. That's what keeps it fair."

"I won't! I won't go! They can't make me!" She shot up and backed away, arms out as though to ward off her parents. "You can't make me!"

Mom's eyes flashed. "Melanie, it's your duty to the state. If your brother, or your father, or I got the notice, we'd be standing at that curb. And so will you. I will not have my daughter become a runner."

Melanie laughed tonelessly. "Right, because they cull the families of runners. Better me than you, huh?"

The slap came out of nowhere, and Melanie rocked back, staring at her father in shock. Neither of her parents had ever struck her.

"That's enough. We raised you to do your duty. If you really think it's better for all of us to die so that you can have a few more days or weeks of freedom, then we failed."

The young wolf slumped. "Sorry, Dad. I know, I just...I panicked a bit. I'm ok, now. Honestly. I would never do that to you."

He nodded, and pulled her into a hug. "I know, hun. Sorry for hitting you." He pulled back and rubbed their noses together. "Dinner?"

Melanie shook her head morosely. "No, I just...I'm just going to tidy up my room, I guess. Stay busy. Maybe finish that book I've been trying to read. I dunno...something."

Her parents nodded and backed out of the room. "Well, if you change your mind, you've got a couple of hours."

Melanie managed a smile, and when the door finally closed, she fell back on her bed and stared at the ceiling. So this was it. By this time tomorrow she'd be cut up into pieces and sitting in coolers on their way to food dispensaries. She'd be dead, and no-one would visit her grave, like they did in the old stories. No-one would carry her remains around in a jar, treasured, or scatter her over a calm lake. It was...horribly utilitarian. Dying so the dispensaries could fulfill their meat quotas. A number, collected, sliced up into pieces, and served to the masses anonymously.

No more dances, no more homework, no more lacrosse. No more going to the colonnade to look at the latest fashions in the multi-dispensary with her friends, always promising that this time they'd save up enough citizen points to dispense that dress from Paris, or those shoes from Milan. Always frittering it away on little things and then sighing longingly, noses pressed to the holo as they watched the confections of leather and cloth rotate, not-real, just out of reach.

All those things she'd always said she'd do. All the things she'd done. Gone.

The door opened a bit, and she looked up to see her brother peeking in at her. "Come to make sure I haven't gone out the window?"

Mark winced. "No, I came to ask if you could use some company."

Melanie blinked at his hurt tone. "Sorry, Mark, that was...I don't know, I'm just...fuck, they're going to kill me. They're going to kill me and strip off my skin to make clothes out of and cut up my body for people to eat, and...State, Mark, this is my literal last day on Earth. How am I supposed to feel?"

He stepped in and she found herself clinging to him, tears dripping down her face, running off her muzzle. Her big brother's arms around her, comforting her like he used to when they were little. He helped her over to the bed and sank down onto it, shushing and petting her. She looked up at him through tear stained eyes, and he grinned and licked her nose. "What?" she sniffled.

"Out the window?" He was fighting laughter.

"I was distraught," she growled, but the ridiculousness of it hit her as she said it.

"Mel, that's a three hundred foot drop!" he chortled. "What, you were going to grab a bird and ride it down?"

The image came to her of her clinging to a pigeon, screaming, "Fly! Fly damn you!" and she burst out laughing. They fell back chortling and snorting onto the bed, arms around each other.

When their laughter subsided, she gave him a sober look. "I am scared, though. I mean, it's...I never thought it'd be me, you know?"

"Never?" Mark considered her calmly. "Everyone does. I've looked in the mirror and wondered what I'd taste like. Wondered what my fur would look like as a muff, or my skin as a pair of shoes. I'm sure Mom and Dad have, and I know all my friends have."

Melanie shrugged. "I just always put it out of my mind. When the other girls were playing Eat or Be Eaten, I kept score, or sat it out. Whenever I thought about it, it was always other people. When I eat, I don't think about who it is, even when we say the thanks. I just...never wanted to think it'd be me."

"But that's silly," Mark said, squirming around to face her. "Everyone goes in the end. 'The factories spin on, and when the world spins down, the factories will have come for us all.'"

She wrinkled her nose. "You're seriously going to quote poetry at me now?"

"Hey, I like that poem."

"I know, it's on your bloody wall," she grinned, punching him lightly in the shoulder. "I hate it," she admitted, after a moment. "I knew, always, that someday I'd get old and it'd be time. But I just tried to think about all the time I'd have before that. And now, I don't...I won't..."

Her eyes teared up, and Mark wiped them gently. "Well, I guess it's time to start thinking about it, huh?"

"Yeah," she whispered. "I guess."

His hand ran through her hair. "I hope they don't reprocess this."

She blinked. "What?"

"Baby steps," he said with a grin. "Your hair would look amazing woven into something fashionable. One of those dressed you like so much, maybe. Or coated and used as core for plasti-weave, make something beautiful out of it."

Her hand shot to her mess of hair. "I, uh...yeah. I guess that'd be...cool. Maybe, um, jewelry."

He grinned. "See? Not so hard, once you start thinking about it."

She licked her lips. "I...nope, still not getting there. I just think about it, and...it's like this hole inside me. I just get fucking terrified."

Mark considered that for a moment. "Do you trust me?"

"Of course I trust y...I'm going to hate this, aren't I?"

"Maybe. Take off your clothes?"

She gulped. "Look, I...I'm not sure..."

He took her chin in his hand. "Sis, I'm not...I thought maybe it would help to pray, ok?"

Melanie cocked an eyebrow at him in challenge. "Naked?"

"Just trust me."

The young wolf stood up, took a deep breath, and opened the clasps on her simple dress. It slipped off, and she stood before her brother in her underwear. He kept his eyes on hers, calm and caring, and she pushed her panties down, then opened the catch at the front of her bra and let it fall. She stepped out of the panties, kicked them away. Her brother slipped off the bed and sat on his heels, pulling her down so they say knee to knee. He put his hands on her shoulders, and she mirrored him.

"We are children of the State," he murmured. When the words stuck in her throat, he squeezed her shoulders encouragingly. She stumbled through the old prayer softly, her voice catching at the familiar words.

"We are children of the State. The State loves us, cares for us, gives us all that we are. We love the State, care for the State, and make the State all that it is. When the State calls us, we give ourselves freely, out of love, out of caring, that the State may go on, forever and always."

The words calmed her, centered her, but she still felt her heart fluttering. The State had called her. All those words, they meant something, and now they meant she was going to die. Her calm shattered and she felt the panic rising again.

"We give thanks to our brothers and sisters of the State," Mark said. Her eyes flew open and found him smiling at her. "For their love and caring, for their gift of themselves, that the State may go on, forever and always."

A lump appeared in her throat. Right. She saw where he was going with this. There was a variation. It was supposed to be said or thought at the moment of death, but...well, who was to say what that moment was?

"I...I give thanks to the State, for loving my brothers and sisters enough to call me to serve them with all that I am, that they may continue, and with them the State, forever and always" she whispered.

He smiled and ran his hands down her sides. "See?" he whispered. "Nothing to be scared of. We've been praying all our lives, and we forget the prayers mean something. It's going to be ok."

Her grip tightened on his shoulders. "Do you really believe it? All that stuff we say?"

He laughed softly. "The State isn't like the old religions, Mel. It's there. It cares. We can see that in every aspect of our lives."

She managed a small grin. "I'm having a little trouble seeing it right now."

He sighed and rested his hands on her thighs, squeezing them gently. "Well, think of it this way. Yes, you're being called, but you will literally become the State. You'll be the instrument that serves others, that feeds them, clothes them. How cool is that? How se-" his voice cut off. "I mean..."

She cocked an eyebrow. "You were going to say sexy, weren't you?"

He laughed and shrugged. "Yeah. I mean, think about it."

Mark squeezed her thighs, rubbing and stroking them. "These are my sister's legs. But they're also steaks, just like the steaks I see in the market. Someone, somewhere, is going to take these into their bodies, and use my sister to fuel their muscles, to give them energy to keep going."

He leaned forward, resting their foreheads together, looking down at her thighs as he stroked them. "Steak is a romantic meat, a high point meat. Imagine that your thighs inspire citizens to passion, inspire them to create new life, inspire them to fuck their brains out. You. Your body, motivating them, giving them the energy, the stamina."

She was breathing harder now, picturing it. It was true. In the holos it was always steak...or...

His hands ran up her sides, one hand resting on her navel as his voice lowered, gently whispering. "Your belly, sis. How many days did we wake up and have belly before school? How many days did we enjoy bacon or sausage for breakfast, giving the prayer of thanks? Imagine kids thanking you for giving them the energy to get through school. Remember how we were always extra fervent in our thanks because we got to eat bacon?"

She huffed out a soft laugh. "Yeah. I remember Mom always used to yell at us for changing the words, for saying 'for their gift of bacon'."

He rubbed her stomach chuckling. "Well, somewhere, some kid is going to get yelled at by his mom for saying, 'for their love and caring, for their gift of bacon' and he's going to be talking about a part of you. He's going to be thanking you for making his morning better."

His hands came up and cupped her breasts and she shivered. "And think about all the little boys and girls that are going to walk past these in the market, all wrapped up tight in vacuum plas, and get excited. Think about the soups, the fry sandwiches, the lucky, lucky bastards who while give thanks for these when they're grilled and lightly salted, an explosion of fat and sweetness. How often did we walk by breasts smaller than yours in the store and beg Mom and Dad to dispense them, beg for Mom's mango infused breast cakes? Braised until they melt in your mouth, rolled in seeds and baked until a crust forms, remember those?"

She nodded, hypnotized by the image of her breasts coated with seeds, steaming gently. Her hands slipped off his shoulders and went around to touch her ass, feeling its curves. He grinned and covered her hands with his own, squeezing the plump muscles. "Now you're getting it. Stateday dinner, two of them here, succulent, mouthwatering, bringing a family together at the end of a week to celebrate and laugh and talk. Or sliced thin and served as sandwiches, sustaining workers, or giving kids a flavorful burst of energy between classes."

She looked up at him, and there was wonder in her eyes as the enormity of it struck her. He brushed her hair out of her eyes, and kissed her gently on the forehead. "Sexy? Hell yes, it's sexy. You'll be family dinners and snacks on the go, kids getting good grades and first kisses after the dance, friends laughing over a kabob at the colonnade and workers resting on their break, grateful for the time to eat. You'll strengthen new citizens, couples, families, children, as many as you can, as the State uses your gift to love and care for its children."

He kissed her ear. "Your body, your beautiful, sexy body, will be the greatest gift to dozens of people. Life, Melanie. You'll give them life. What's sexier, hotter, more perfect than that?'

She giggled. "You think I'm sexy?"

He pulled back and gave her a mock stern look. "We're discussing the beauty of your gift, and what you get out of all that is how sexy you are?"

Melanie stuck out her tongue.

"Fine, if you must be secular about things, I suppose we can talk about how sexy I think you are." His pompous tone and nasal twang was a dead ringer for their theology teacher and she snorted into her hand, slapping his chest lightly.

He grinned and she yelped as he wrapped his arms around her, pulling her into his lap. "Shall I confess to you, little sister? Shall I tell you of the deep secrets that plague my soul in the long dark hours of the ni-ow!"

"Not a poetry girl."

He rubbed his ear where she'd pinched it. "Noted. Fine. You're the most lovely, graceful, sexy girl I know. I used to steal your under things and jack off into them, wishing I could touch you. I want to lick you until you scream my name, chew your nipples, lock my hands around your hips and plow you. The thought of you becoming meat makes me hot all over, because I picture you under vacuum plas, waiting to become part of people in the most intimate way possible, more intimate than anything I could ever have done to you physically."

She shivered and grinned. "Used too?"

"What?"

"Used to steal my underwear?"

"Of course. I didn't do it today or yesterday, so it's in the past."

She cocked an eyebrow. "You realize I knew about it right? Just like I know you peep at me in the showers."

His eyebrows shot up. "Why didn't you say anything?"

"I thought you'd stop if I did," Melanie admitted. Her hand drifted down to the base of his stomach, and she petted him. "I think I know what my last request will be."

"Your what?"

"Old human custom. A person can ask for anything when they're about to die, and their loved ones have to do their best to grant it."

"Huh," he said, watching her hand as it made little circles under his navel. "And, uh, what is your request, oh great history buff?"

"Show me."

He licked his lips. "Show you...?"

"Everything. All of you, all that you wanted to do to me, with me. Show me."

They stared at each other, inches apart. The kiss was mutual, sudden and needy. Their tongues exploring each other's mouths, he tugged open his shirt and pulled it off. He slid his hands under her and lifted her onto the bed without breaking the kiss. As he ran his hands over her, fondling her, she reached between them and unsnapped his shorts, pushing them down to his knees. He moaned into her mouth, and pressed his hands down between her thighs, teasing and rolling her clit between his fingers.

"O-Oh, State, Mark, taste me! Taste my body, please!"

He groaned and flopped between her legs, burying his muzzle in her, his tongue lapping out along her lips, up into her most private place. She shoved her hand into her mouth, not wanting to alert their parents. She watched as his legs kicked, throwing his shorts off the edge of the bed. He went up on his knees, hands cupping her ass to hold her in place as he drove his tongue into her again and again. She reached down and stroked his head, gasping and whimpering, imagining other mouths, other lips, other tongues on her body, devouring her with the same passion he showed now. She threw her head to the side and screamed into her pillow as his suckled at her clit, teeth nipping gently. Her core turned to liquid heat, and she exploded.

He rushed up her body, kissing and licking a line up her stomach, between her breasts, her throat, her jaw, and then she was tasting herself on his lips and he pressed against her. She felt his hardness against her, aching to enter her. "Do it!" she moaned fiercely. "Give thanks for me now, give thanks for me this way!"

Mark shuddered and went still. "I...let me just go grab-"

"Don't be silly," she laughed breathlessly, reaching between them. Her hand wrapped around him and he made a little noise of want. "I'm going tonight. Just fuck me. Get me pregnant. It won't matter, and I want to feel it at least once."

He moaned as she guided him to her, the tip of him brushing over the hot folds. He pulled back and locked his eyes with hers, glazed and hungry. He rolled his hips forward ever so slowly, and their faces were matching expressions of wonder. Their breath was rapid, heat washing over each other's faces, and then their hips met and they groaned in unison.

"So perfect," he whispered.

She wrapped her legs around his waist, her arms around her neck, and pulled his down to kiss her. "Tell me again," she whispered. "Tell me again about the wonder of this as you fuck me."

He laughed, short and sharp. "Blasphemy, little sister?"

"State, yes, blasphemy! I think it can forgive me that when I'm all parceled out, don't you?"

His hips rolled and she gasped. "Your body is a gift," thrust, "a joyful, loving sacrifice," thrust, "tight and hot," thrust, "and mouthwateringly beautiful."

She panted as he picked up speed, whispering sacred things into her ear as they profaned themselves. "I give thanks, little sister, for your loving and caring body, for the gift of your cunt wrapped around me, though the State may take you, but I got you first!"

Her eyes rolled back in her head as he pounded her, whispering, "You'll be pieced out, vacuum plased, serving others, but for now, your whole body serves us, gives you pleasure, gives me a hole to fuck," he nuzzled her breasts, "tits to suck," he squeezed her hips, "and a womb to flood, oh, State, fuck!"

He buried his face in her breasts and she buried hers in his shoulder as they fought to keep silent while their peaks slammed through them. She felt him, deep inside her, spraying her womb. Her face screwed up as she screamed without sound, rocketing to the top again with every little thrust of his hips as he twitched inside her. Her legs were so tight around him, she was almost scared she'd break him in half.

A perfect, glorious moment.

At last, they slid down into peace, and rolled over on their sides, holding each other. Melanie giggled a little at this mirror of all the times he'd held her growing up, only now he held her as his cock softened within her, as his cum pooling inside her. He pulled back at her giggle and grinned, lazily kissing her for a while.

"State, why did we wait so long for that?" Mark whispered when the kiss ended.

Melanie laughed softly. "Would we have enjoyed it as much?"

He considered, tracing circles in her fur thoughtfully. "No, I guess not."

She grinned at him, her arms sliding around his neck. "Wanna do it again?"

"Fuck yes."

Thirty minutes later, they broke apart again, panting. "I don't think," Mark gasped as he held her hand, "I would ever get tired of that."

Melanie smiled, a little sadly. "Guess you'll never have to find out, huh?"

He sighed. Melanie yelped as he reached over and flicked her nipple without looking. "No sad crap. It's a beautiful, wonderful thing you're doing. We just did a beautiful, profane, glorious thing twice. And I swear I will start the prayer for exorcising unlawfulness if you start getting scared again."

She laughed, and rolled on her side. "Betcha can't do it while doing me."

He frowned at her. "You realize there's a limit on how fast I can get back up, right?"

She booped him on the nose. "Yep. I wonder what the exorcism sounds like when spoken through a cunt, though?"

It sounded, as it turned out, like a slurpy, garbled mess mixed in with whimpers and pillow biting.

Melanie collapsed back on her pillow with a dreamy smile on her face. "Thank you for driving those unlawful impulses out of my body, Citizen Green."

Mark crawled up next to her, licking his muzzle, eyes glazed with sexual exhaustion. "My pleasure, Citizen Green."

She looked at the clock. They'd only been at this for an hour and a half, and damned if she didn't have another four hours until she had to be at the curb. She groaned and rolled over. to face her brother. "You know what the worst thing is?"

"That we don't have another week to do this?"

She giggled. "That after all that melodrama I gave Mom and dad, now I'm actually hungry."

He let out a bark of laughter. "Well...here, how about this?"

Mark crawled off the bed, and she blinked as he picked up the little plastic case that held her pets, three white rats. She blinked.

"Seriously?"

He shrugged. "Why not? It wouldn't be the first time we've eaten rat."

"Leaving aside the fact that that's not going to satisfy either of us, why would I want to eat Fluffy, Tuffy, or Gob?"

Mark's eyes twinkled. "To feel how sexy, how satisfying eating another living thing is? I mean, think about it: the State's called you. Now we call them," he said, pointing at the rats.

Melanie grinned. 'Oh. One more blasphemy for the road, huh?"

"Certainly not," he said, managing to keep a straight face as he took an indignant tone. "These rats are citizens of this house, and have a duty to go down with their mistress."

Melanie hesitated. "Umm...you first."

He rolled his eyes and set the case on the bed. The young wolf girls spread her legs and started to play with herself as he opened the case. He fished around for a rat, and managed to grab Tuffy. He held it up and let out a snort when he saw what she was doing. "Damn. You just cannot get enough, huh?" he asked in an admiring tone.

"Last chances and all that," she said, not stopping.

He grinned and shook his head, lifting the rat to his lips. Melanie gasped when she watched him dangle it over his mouth and then slowly lower it, taking the rat whole. He swallowed slowly, and a bulge formed in his throat, a living bulge, living food. Her, in a little while. The sight finally broke through the last barrier in her head, and she moaned as her cunt throbbed under her fingers, a surge of wetness rising.

"Another," she breathed, hand grinding and twisting, her fingers slipping into herself.

Mark smiled and fished out Gob, holding him by the tail before slipping him between his lips. He slurped up the rat like spaghetti, and Melanie moaned as she watched the bulge form an inch at a time, squirming and writhing within Mark's throat, appearing and disappearing slowly. When his throat was still and empty once more, she panted, so close, so ready.

"Feed me the last one."

Her brother chuckled and lifted out Fluffy, holding it over her mouth. Panting eagerly, at the very brink, she opened her mouth, and felt that tiny, fluttering body land on her tongue. She closed her mouth and eyes at the same time. It didn't taste like anything more than fur, but the feeling was ecstatic. She swallowed, felt it wriggle and squirm. It writhed on her tongue, tickled the back of her throat. She swallowed again, and it was in her throat fully, tail lashing around, curling on her tongue. She swallowed one last time, and the feeling of it struggling, twisting its way down to her stomach did it. She bit her lip, back arching as she came violently.

Mark watched her, amusement written across his features. He climbed onto the bed, and hugged her as she came down from her orgasm, one hand on her tummy as the wriggling inside her went still. She looked up at him, and he saw peace in her eyes. "Still hungry?"

She nodded.

Mark petted her hair. "Come on, then. We'll grab Mom and Dad, go down to the colonnade, and blow some of your citizen points."

~~~~~~~

Melanie stood on the curb, ten minutes early due to the lifts working for once. She'd kissed her family goodbye, and sent them back up, wanting them to remember her well in case her newfound serenity broke when the truck pulled up. While nudity was the norm for those who went down to level one for processing pick-up, Melanie's parents had surprised her, taking citizen points from her education fund, and buying her the frothy gown she'd always wanted. So she stood at the curb, being eyed by the others out here as a weirdo, dressed to the hilt like she was waiting for a lover.

The buildings echoed easily, artificial canyons that carried sound for blocks, and she distantly heard the grunting growl of the processing truck. The wind blew warm over her face, carrying the sound to her, and the birds sang their hearts out. She listened to the thrum of it, and giggled as she heard a beat, a pulse. She closed her eyes, and everything flashed through her mind at once. Her brother, her parents, all the wonderful things she'd done in her life. All the moments when time had stood still to acknowledge beauty and joy.

And standing at the curb, listening the the thumping of the truck approaching, as the other processees stared at her in confusion, Melanie lifted her skirt, kicked up her heels, and danced like a madwoman.

One last perfect moment.