FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

1

"Perfect. Cock the brow, give us that grin. You're the struttin'est stud around, and you know it. Clench the butt cheeks, bedroom eyes...aww yeah, that's it. Hold the back muscles, hmmmm. Lift the arms. There it is! Right there! Hold!"

_The automated cameras flashed almost silently with each flick of the chief photographer's fingers, capturing Chad's perfectly-sculpted pose dozens of times over. Every fur tuft was perfectly fluffed, the swirled darker patterns on his back meticulously brushed to mirror each other, and the jutting tooth that was facing the main camera was polished to an ivory gleam. The solid rippling muscles of his upper half only made his hourglass-thin waist all the more impressive. He stood forward on his digitigrade toes, but kept the pose effortlessly, looking both powerful and at ease. His lifted and flexed biceps were as big as his head. His blood-red irises looked lazily through the sultry slits of his dark gray eyelids, and their sly confidence along with his almost frighteningly smug fanged grin could melt a stone into magma... or at least flutter the heart and loins of any man or woman viewing what would soon be a glossy full-page ad. _

BIG DOG Menswear - for when you have plenty to be proud of.

"Aaaaaand we got it. Relax, Chad. Fantastic."

Immediately the buff sabertooth shrank and turned inward. His arms lowered and crossed in front of him, hiding his torso and skimpily-covered crotch. His shoulders slumped as he spun to face the crew so his ass and back would no longer feel so exposed, the small tuft of his tail drooping down but not hiding much at all. His fists clenched and worked nervously, and his darting eyes mostly flickered at the floor. And suddenly he seemed not so symmetrical, despite the perfectly groomed fur patterns that adorned his front as well. But his other would-be majestic tusk, the one not visible in his previous pose as he looked backward over his shoulder, ended jaggedly only an inch below the upper lip.

Chad's agent was soon at the hulking saber's side with his hand clapped jovially to the model's shoulder blade. "Looked great, big guy! I think this is gonna be big stuff. Glad I could make it, eh?!"

Chad winced, almost cowering away from the even shorter, slimmer, but far chattier cougar. His eyes stared at his feet while he muttered in a small, throaty voice, "It was good. I'm gonna change."

The cougar grinned excitedly and rubbed Chad's upper back, making the taut flesh there quiver and jump. "Sure! I'll come with and help you out of those paint-ons, whaddaya say?"

The only way to describe the sound Chad emitted was as a moan. Of resigned, nervous misery. "Okay, Dean."

Only a few steps toward the changing room, the photographer grazed past them and thanked Chad. "Looked great, thanks for taking direction so well."

"I just...do what I've seen before. Thank you."

"Your poses are very classical, they really fill out your whole form. What happened to your other fang, by the way?"

Chad's shoulders slumped even further inward and his voice was hollow and mousy. "Bad tackle in football. Back in high school. I quit in college."

More awkward thanks were exchanged, almost entirely between Dean and the photographer. Chad's nose huffed shallow breaths and the sides of his muzzle twitched. Flesh-and-blood furries started to rearrange the scenery and lighting for the next shoot, but floorbots buffed the pristine waxed wood underfoot and collected the burnished-gray drapery that had hung behind Chad as he'd posed. Chad watched the hubbub warily, hoping desperately that Dean would leave him alone to change, but the cougar as usual had no notion of modesty or discretion. The saber-toothed feline/canine mutt-mix rubbed his arm with his other hand, nodding at his agent's prattle but not looking up from the floor or his shuffling feet.

After the fakely enthusiastic goodbyes and ushering towards the changing space, finally Chad could let his arms fall to his sides in the relative privacy of the side room. "Well come on, get changed, let's go out for a drink or something!" The puma hung impatiently by Chad's side and slightly behind him.

Chad's throat clicked as he swallowed and squeaked out, "Could I maybe do it in priv--" Another small moan as the stylish and simple black briefs that had previously hugged his hips were shucked down by the cougar's impatient thumbs. Chad shivered at the rustle of fabric against the fur of his thighs, and felt clammy just like the dreams of the locker room as his ass was bared and his privates flopped out in front of him.

Dean sighed as he squatted down to lower the briefs down Chad's thighs. "We gotta get some confidence in you sometime, stud. You may not be packin', but you look good. Nude shoots can pay a lot more in general, you know. Something tasteful hmmm..." The chipper cougar sprang to his feet and blatantly admired his client's body in full.

Chad's humanoid penis was so small and stubby it had several times been mistaken for a flaccid sheath. Even before he could close his palms over it though, blood had started to rush in, both to his face and to his light-gray-skinned member. Though quite thick even when flaccid, it swelled only to a fatly jutting three and a half inches when he happened to manage an erection, which was still almost always dismayingly awkward and inopportune for him anyway. He was at least grateful for the abnormal amount of hair in his private area; the thatch of coarse but smooth tan-blonde fur around his genitals tended to at least create a fitting hiding place for his shame, as well as managing to look masculine in at least some way. And even as a 28-year-old man, Chad felt he had very little male pride to hold onto anymore.

The sabertooth clenched his bare ass and bent his knees toward each other in shame as he covered himself, and still the cougar blathered on obliviously about further prospects and upcoming schedules and hurry up let's go celebrate. Chad didn't want to budge even to grab his clothes bag, since he could feel the warming flesh of his stiffening penis and modest testicles behind his palms.

"CHAD. Come on, let's get going. And don't be so shy, I've seen it all before, you can't be THAT embarrassed." When the other male didn't answer, even Dean noticed the poor sabertooth's body shaking, but interpreted his nervousness both exactly right and completely wrong. "Wait, did you get hard?! That's actually kind of cute, you know."

Even though Chad only stood five and a half feet tall himself, Dean had to strain up on tiptoe to murmur breathily into the model's ear. "I wouldn't mind helping you with that before we go. Off the books, of course."

With his chest nearly heaving at this point, as if he was having an anxious asthma attack, it was almost a minute before Chad could stop gulping past the lump in his throat and struggle to answer. "Please just...let me be alone for a minute," he managed, voice cracking bleakly.

Dean huffed and smiled almost kindly. "Sure, stud. You take care of that on your own. Some of my other clients get off on being on camera too, I know how it is. Meet you outside in ten."

Four hours later, after shaking off the cougar's constant invitations and cajolings, mist-showering for an hour straight to get the oils out of his fur and to calm his still-racing heart and lungs, and changing carefully into what he thought might be most attractive and still fit the bar's theme, Chad got the courage to leave his apartment and go to the usual dim but cheery bar three blocks down. When he had pulled his chair up to the bartop as quietly as he could, ordered his usual vodka and orange juice, he tried as usual to force himself to glance around at the other bar-haunters and maybe even smile at one of them he liked. But instead he started to sweat under his skin-tight crop top, and he stared fixedly at his drink while he drew the leash and collar from his pants pocket and surreptitiously clipped the collar around his throat with a small whine. He'd wait for two drinks tonight.

2

The next afternoon, after he had woken up and the unprompted crying had stopped, Chad called his mother. He had a mug of exotic coffee that was decaffeinated but strongly brewed. He loved coffee but the caffeine in some popular kinds was enough to incapacitate him for hours with horrifying shaking spells. Finally after several years of searching once he'd moved to Tyrua, he'd found an off-planet brand that had the perfect comforting smooth darkness that he loved, and a piquant new note of an elusive green grassiness. The packets of coarsely ground powder were the most expensive thing he regularly bought. He was too afraid of spending money otherwise.

It still took him two cups of brew to be calm enough to call.

"You didn't call me yesterday!"

Chad had to close his eyes and breathe deeply before answering his mother's "greeting". He cleared his throat but his voice still came out weak and throaty. "I'm sorry, Mom. I had a shoot. It went r--"

"You KNOW you're always supposed to call me afterwards and tell me how it was, Chaddy. I was WORRIED."

Her silence afterward was as pointed and expressive as the disapproving expression Chad could easily picture on her face. He winced and muttered what she wanted to hear again. "I'm sorry, Mom. I should have called you."

"That's okay, Chaddy. How did it go?"

He cleared his throat again, several times, squirming on the smooth white lonely surface of the small couch. "The pho...tographer said it was great. I felt a little funny but...Dean said--"

Chad physically had to close his eyes against his mother's squealing. "That's my boy! Oooooh my big strapping Chaddy boy! I just knew you'd grow up to be strong? Big handsome stud, aren't you? Oh that's wonderful. Who's my big boy now?"

What she wants to hear. Always what she wants to hear.

"You're right, mom. I grew up big and strong for you."

More elated squealing, and then a dark pause. "Did they make you take off your pants, Chad?"

Despite the warm mellow relaxed sensation from the uncaffeinated coffee he'd since finished, Chad's heart rate skyrocketed and he almost immediately felt like hanging up and going back to hopelessly crying. And worst of all, he remembered again in needling detail how Dean had denuded him in mock playfulness. Through a tight throat he squeaked, "Well I was in just my. Underwear. For the spread. But that's as far as it went, I swear. Nobody saw."

An annoyingly exaggerated sigh of relief came to Chad's ear, and it oddly soothed him, like the expected but bracing wave of a hot shower. "Well that's good then. I know how shy you are about your privates."

There was an object in Chad's other hand, the one that wasn't holding the phone that now trembled so badly he almost dropped it. Until now, the object had only been nervously toyed with, but upon that line from his mother, Chad involuntarily gripped the object tightly and winced. "Yes, mom. It was fine."

"Good. I always said that was another thing I'm glad you didn't inherit from your father, you know."

Chad's whole body shook with mortal embarrassment. He wouldn't stop shaking for several hours after he finally hung up the phone.

"Chad, are you still there?"

He cleared his throat ineffectually and squeaked out, "Yes mom, I heard you. I'm glad I'm not like Dad either."

"See, I did raise you well. My good boy. My big strong man. I'm going to go now, I have things to do today. You stay good, Chaddy. Okay?"

"Okay, mom. I'll call you again soon."

The steady, numbing hum of the cross-planet dial tone rang in Chad's ear and he stared down at the object he was clutching in his other hand. It was the slightly yellowed and cracked remnant of his left sabertooth, the jagged broken section at the top of it slightly smoothed out with age and tumble-wear. His thumb rubbed up and down the smooth side of it. It was slightly smaller than the one that was still attached and fully embedded in his upper gum. After all, he had only been ten years old.

He was too scared to go to the bar that night. He stayed home alone and picked at his guitar.

3

Chad had been talking occasionally with the almost impossibly sexy lion on Gruff for several weeks. He usually didn't even respond to messages on the app, because they either made him nervous or wanted him to be something he wasn't, which made him nervous. The uploaded photos on his profile looked just like the full-page magazine ads and banners he was still sometimes shocked to see himself in; they were confident, smiling roguishly, had perfectly groomed fur, and showed a relaxed yet full-statured posture. If there was one thing Chad had learned from modeling, it was how to present himself well, even in a selfie for a dom/sub gay hookup app.

But even finally messaging the lion that he was free and ready today seemed to Chad like a sealed sentence rather than an exciting, sexy opportunity. He usually just masturbated desperately several times a day, preferring not to think afterwards about the thoughts he'd gotten off to while looking at pictures of other men looking completely at home in their naked bodies. The expressions those men had... their postures, their poses, the subtle ways their positioning accentuated their own natural anatomy, those were the things Chad drank in and later intuitively recreated in his own photoshoots. And while he shiveringly, compulsively jerked himself off with his fingers, he habitually refused to look down at himself while he did it. The pathetic sight always made him unable to finish.

The lion was Chad's first even potential hookup in over a year. His profile pictures looked just like the nude models Chad pined over in videos. His name was Jareth. His blithe persistence strangely beguiled Chad, and despite the familiar nerve-shredding anxiety that came with most hookup conversations, the sabertooth found himself getting hot, squirmy, and erect each time he saw that Jareth had messaged him again, even if it sometimes took him hours after getting the notification to just open the app and check the message.

It was almost with reluctance that Chad realized that he did want to have sex with Jareth, the casually dominant bright-orange-maned lion. He told himself that he was an attractive model in the prime of his life, he needed to be hooking up and putting himself out there. Dean would approve. Maybe even his mother would approve.

He spent over three hours prepping himself before the time Jareth agreed to come over. Most of that time was in the shower, using a convienently-nozzled water bottle to douche himself eleven times. He was plenty clean after four, but each of the seven times he'd had sex, he'd been paranoid about his cleanliness back there to the point of near-nausea.

The time finally came and Chad waited on the couch in his front room, his penis as nervously stiff as it had ever been. Three knocks on the apartment door, and Chad closed the lid of his computer-pad, breathing deeply once before doing his best to put on his confident small-smirk model persona, then crossing the room to open the door via the touchpad.

Jareth was quite magnificent in the flesh and fur. Not bulky per se, but subtly muscular and athletic, a real runner's body. Chad was bigger than the lion standing outside his doorway, but he still felt a gross thrill of submissiveness that almost felt like he suddenly had to piss.

Jareth smiled and spoke with a smooth, relaxed voice. "Hi dude! You look great. Should I come in?"

Chad mentally stammered and then stood aside from the door, awkwardly gesturing inside.

The lion wasted no time sauntering in and flopping onto the meticulously-white couch with a happy low sigh. "Glad you were finally available, dude. I could really use this. Just came from the gym, too. Oh, don't worry, I showered." Chad never made eye contact with anyone, but he could almost feel the scan of the lion's eyes across his own form, which was lightly clothed in a t-shirt and elastic-band nylon shorts. Chad tugged at the hem of the shirt and stared down at his bare footclaws, wishing he didn't have to say anything, as always, but he managed.

"Yeah, you're...really hot, I'm glad to see you." Chad double-checked that the door was locked, and almost reluctantly shuffled over in front of the couch, staring down at the lion who was now conspicuously rubbing his own crotch. "Do you wanna...get it out...?"

Jareth chuckled easily, "Sure do!" and tugged down the waistband of his own gym shorts, wiggling his thin toned body as he lowered them and let his flaccid penis waggle out into the open. Even fully soft, the lion was bigger than Chad's erection, and the saber-toothed male bizarrely felt the hot sting of tears at that realization. He sniffed just once, and adjusted his own privates to remind himself how aroused he still was. He wanted this, he deserved it. The lion fished a bottle of lube out of his removed shorts, tossed it on the endtable by the couch casually, and then looked up at Chad expectantly.

Thankfully the point had been reached where no more words were necessary, and Chad just knelt down, closed his eyes, and pushed his dark-pink nose right into the tuck between the lion's penis and fuzzy ballsack, nuzzling around a bit and making the flaccid cock flip upwards to point up Jareth's stomach. Chad heard and felt the lion rumble contentedly, and had a close-up view of the orange-skinned member already starting to swell and stiffen. His tongue lapped out nervously and ran over the fine fur on Jareth's scrotum. The lion's scent was natural but still had that recently-washed freshness. Chad was subconsciously disappointed; the videos he often masturbated to were full of sweaty jocks and football players and he usually came thinking about what their armpits or crotches might smell like if they were to be stuffed onto his nose, and then he'd uncontrollably remember specific football teammates from high school or college and think about what THEIR armpits or crotches might have smelled like right after a game and then he'd orgasm and almost immediately start crying because he missed those guys and he missed his left sabertooth and he'd quit the football team in college after he'd worked up the courage to ask the coyote running back he'd had a crush on to go get a couple of drinks maybe and the coyote had respectfully declined on the basis of having a girlfriend, but playfully snapped the front of Chad's jockstrap and then stared down in almost horror at what he'd seen in there. Or what he'd not seen.

Chad had still been a virgin at that time.

But now the welcoming weight of limited experience had started to settle in, and Chad yet again just did what he'd seen in all those videos. He licked and suckled up Jareth's scrotum, and the increasing length of his penis, until he was at the head and took it between his lips.

All the times Chad had had sex before had been wildly different experiences, yet in every one of them his partner had said something like what Jareth said now. "Heh, watch that jagged tooth now..."

Chad's eyes lowered humbly. He had no words for how much he was always conscious of exactly that, and how painfully careful he was about it even though the jagged edges were sanded smooth by time. He nodded before starting to bob smoothly up and down the lion's shaft. He was still a little clumsy, and he knew it. But he was earnest to please, and even whined a little bit while curling his lips over his teeth and indeed being careful not to do anything untoward with the ends of either of his tusks.

Several minutes passed wordlessly, Jareth's penis fully stiffening in Chad's mouth and the above-average length starting to slip uncomfortably into the sabermutt's throat. Chad was equal parts relieved and renewedly-nervous when the lion ended the suck-session fairly quickly. "Heh, that's great man, but you said you cleaned that ass out and I want some of that." Jareth smiled and gently pushed Chad off his dick.

Chad nearly sprang to his toes, already quivering all over. He'd only even bottomed three times now, but he was ready. He wanted it. This would surely be a breakout for him. Maybe Jareth would even be the one that could show him what he longed for.

The toned but lankier lion stood up and circled behind Chad, pressing his heated purring body to the saber's back and growling in his rounded ear, "I want you up against the wall, bitch."

Chad's eyes bugged out and he gasped in a breath, his penis almost instantly losing the small but intense stiffness it had. And then he felt the lion's hand grip around the back of his neck and push forward towards the wall beside the couch, not harshly, but still forcefully. It was all over; Chad moaned again, but not from any pleasure or even a pleasurable submissiveness. He reached for the wall with his hands and cushioned himself with his muscular forearms, staring at the press of the gray-furred wrists while his vision blurred. This would be just like the rest. He should have known.

"You want my big cock in your cunt, don't you?" The lion's dick was nestling in the dimple of Chad's thin shorts, and it was suddenly not as sexy a feeling as it would usually have been.

"Ummmmghhh," Chad moaned miserably, and shut his eyes against the welling tears. Jareth took the groan as one of submission. Chad felt fingers at the easily-removable waistband of his shorts, and again what had felt sexy before was now regrettable. He had wanted easy access, but now it was TOO easy.

He was trembling too hard all over to stop the lion from lowering the shorts and revealing his model-toned small, pert ass. And the powder-blue designer jockstrap that lay beneath it.

He FELT the warm puff of air from Jareth's growl across his upper shoulder, and shuddered. His nub of a tail tucked down and trembled. The slick shorts sagged sadly around his toes, and his bared butt clenched in alternating need and fear.

Just get it over with. You'll feel better afterward. You're always so damn nervous about everything.

The lion's thumbs were hooked in Chad's jockstrap now. The saber yelped, his hands shot down to hold the strap up, and he started shivering. His voice shook. "I'll...leave that on. It...feels better."

Jareth growled again, and though Chad winced his eyes shut as the lion grabbed at the bottle of lube and slicked up his dick before rubbing embarrassingly around Chad's asshole, the saber could just envision the lewd grin on the lion's handsome muzzle. Jareth LIKED that it was going to be all about his own pleasure.

The lion's finger swirled in bigger circles, and Chad tried to relax and let himself open. He was still nervous that he hadn't cleaned thoroughly enough.

A thicker warmth replaced Jareth's fingers, and Chad hitched his breath and bore down. It slipped in easily enough. A half-minute of discomfort, and Chad still trembled, but then it DID feel better. Heat spread through him from his rear, much like the familiar heat of embarrassment, but a pleasurable sensation instead. He even shyly wiggled his ass. Maybe he'd worried about nothing, as usual. A few tentative thrusts from the lion primed the passageway, and then it started to get steady. Chad's eyes rolled back and he groaned in genuine soft pleasure.

And suddenly Jareth grabbed the back of Chad's head by the tuft of blond hair, mashing his face against the wall. The saber's entire body seized. The lion snarled, "That's it, take it like bitch I know you are," and Chad

blubbered in fear, as he always did when his dad got like this. His father was not a drinker or a user; he was always focused and in control. And when Chad or his mother got in his way too much, that focus narrowed down to a piercing white-hot point. The large canine's eyes burned with such calculated rage that they looked cold. Chad cowered, his scrawnily thin boy-frame pathetic next to the brawny hulk of his father. Chad's mother had heard his whimpering from the next room, and she was coming, yelling about Don't You Touch Him Harold, but tears squeezed from Chad's eyes when he realized it was inevitable. His head still hurt from the last time. "You always cry, boy. I never cried when I was your age. I took my lickings and grew up strong like you won't. Little bitch of a boy." The older dog was holding Chad's head by the tuft of blond hair, and now pulled toward him for one second before twisting his hand and pushing quickly. Chad's face smashed into the wall, and his stomach turned inside out when not only did his muzzle and temple explode with the usual pain, but he heard something actually snap like a tree branch. Oddly he felt no extra pain, though of course he crumpled to the floor and laid there dizzy, his vision doubling. He heard his mother screeching about Get Out You Bastard and I'm Calling The Police This Time, but it seemed far away and like it didn't matter. It never did. It was only when he heard something about Oh My God You Broke Him that he blearily tried to focus, and he pushed himself upward, head throbbing harshly. He reached up to rub the side of his muzzle that had smashed the wall, and stopped with a chill when he felt something... different. His fingers felt a jagged edge, and immediately his eyes found something lying on the floor in front of him. Most of his left sabertooth sat forlornly on the thin carpet, and Chad's whole world changed in that instant as he groped in horror for where the long, smooth tooth had once been below his chin, and then, looking back at the detached appendage on the floor, it all settled in and he

screamed.

4

The Blue Peacock was not one of Tsavik's more regular bartending gigs, but the big quiet bull was always glad to cover a shift there once a month or so. Though he was not usually one for dressing ostentatiously, the bar's requirement of some sort of mild fetish gear or costume for both the staff and patrons was a fun draw for many colorful customers. And he was always tipped well there; he'd been told he looked very striking in leather pants and a matching harness. With no shirt, of course.

It was a fairly quiet but steady Thursday night, the kind of shift Tsavik liked the most, since he had plenty of customers but wasn't too busy to keep them all happy and well-served. He loved the rhythm of treating people well and getting them what they wanted, and he rarely had a bad customer, maybe partly due to his intimidating size, but also because of his surprisingly gentle and pleasant demeanor.

This was a nice residential area of Tyrua, with many middle-scale apartment skyscrapers rising high and shiny over comfortably-priced but classy themed bars and clubs such as The Peacock. It was one of Tsavik's favorite areas to visit or work in, since most of the clientele of the establishments around here were residents of the nearby cozy high-rises. And since the other bartender on duty (a very slim lynx wearing an old-fashioned ruffled shirt along with his black spandex leggings and chalk-pink plastic platform-heels) pointed out that the hunched-over muscular sabertoothed creature at the end of Tsavik's section of the bar, was a semi-regular fixture, the bull correctly assumed that the saber must also live nearby.

Tsavik kept a kind eye on the miserable-looking gray hulk of a male, serving him vodka and juice always with a glass of water and quietly checking in on him while empathetically not being too intrusive. Tsavik himself knew more than a little about feeling completely alone and completely lost, so he could see that the saber-beast was exhibiting all the signs. The other male's impressive musculature was slouched against the bartop, slumping inside of his slightly silly mesh top, and his hand fidgeted constantly with the end of the leash he wore clipped to a simple black cloth collar. The poor man's entire body vibrated noticeably, especially when he (frequently) heaved a rattling sigh and gulped. His hair and fur were agonizingly clean, yet un-groomed and scraggly. He barely touched his drinks and almost seemed afraid of them.

As usual, most of the bar's strikingly-dressed patrons were mingling with each other and sharing flirty encounters in the back booths, which the the bartenders and security actually did keep an amused yet watchful eye on, just in case they turned too lewd. But Tsavik noticed that the flow of people gave the gray saber at the bar a bubble of a wide berth. The bull quietly realized that the muscular male's hunched appearance seemed intimidating from the side and behind, rather than the crippled and desperate demeanor clearly portrayed from Tsavik's point of view.

Tsavik filled another beer for a patron of his that he knew well from several of the bars he worked at, and he had a flash of a potentially bad idea.

But a potentially good one as well.

Chad had not left his apartment for four days after the incident with Jareth. He had collapsed against the wall crying bitterly and shaking, to the shock of the formerly oblivious lion. He hadn't even been able to form words to respond to Jareth's alarmed inquiries, which he could even tell at the time were also disgusted and repulsed. This had been intended to be a simple hookup, and the lion had been extremely offput by Chad's helpless breakdown. He had pulled out, redressed himself, and awkwardly departed as soon as he'd gotten Chad a glass of water and a choked nod of reassurance from Chad that he'd be okay.

Chad had spent the last few days lying in bed watching movies on the wallpad and trying to breathe. He occasionally plucked around on his guitar, but his hands were too shaky. And he knew he wasn't very good anyway, even at his best. He tried making his favorite coffee once, the morning after the hookup with Jareth, but it now tasted as dull and gray as his fur colors. That had been his one comfort. He cried more bitterly about that than anything else.

His mother had called once, on the third day, and he had barely talked to her either. Even the pressure he normally felt with her had dully dissipated. She'd asked if he'd had any modeling gigs lately, and he had mumbled that he'd been trying to rest instead (he had ignored Dean's calls and messages). She had admonished him that she didn't raise him up strong and kick his father out for him to not work and not benefit from her guidance.

Chad stared into his vodka and orange juice, this time included with a thoughtful mint leaf on the rim of the glass, an addition from the very attractive bull bartender he'd never seen here before. This was the last drink he would have tonight. And then he would give up and go home, probably for the last time. This silly fantasy of his almost nauseated him now. The leash was stupid. He felt stupid. He shrank under his netted top.

"Hello there! I noticed you have a collar on, and it's very nice. Would you mind if I took your leash?"

Chad looked up and to his right, certain that he was still just imagining what he'd dreamed of in detail so many times. But there stood a fox with toasty almost-brown where most foxes had crimson-orange. The fox was holding out his hand palm-up, standing respectfully a couple feet away. His face was kind, smiling, not smirking. And that face was also quite handsome.

Still dreaming, Chad lifted the looped end of his leash toward his soft-spoken savior. He was still shaking, but now from a fever of euphoria. He expected to be disappointed any second. Something would happen. Something would ruin it. It wouldn't even be real.

The lanky fox, wearing a cocked leather cap and an open vest along with regular jeans and some sturdy work boots, closed his fingers through the ring of the leather leash. His smile was genuine, almost blushing, and he bowed his head slightly. "Thank you. Could I have your name? Mine's Eren. I thought you looked in need of someone to take you, but on your own terms. And I'd love to be with you tonight, if you'd have me."

Chad could not speak. He only nodded, mesmerized by unreality. He stood up, having already paid his modest tab with an empathetically generous tip. This odd fox still seemed like a mirage; not exactly what he'd been envisioning, but what HAD he been envisioning, really? Somebody. Anybody. He croaked, "I'm Chad."

Tsavik looked up from the crook of the bar, where he was scooping ice cubes to mix a cocktail. He saw the moment the fox took the saber's leash in paw. Eren was one of the sweetest people he knew. Tsavik himself had been mildly subjected to the fox's whims once, due to Eren's humble charm and caring but firm dominance. He nodded in the direction of the newly-conversing duo and finished making a delicate fruit-infused drink with expert care and meticulousness. Maybe his idea had worked.

Chad meekly followed the fox that looked like a burnt marshmallow, tears exiting painfully from his eyes. Several people at the round tables near the doorway clapped as they passed, and even Chad's anxious soul didn't sense any jeering or sarcasm in their applause.

Chad hesitated at the door. He felt safe and guarded and respected, but still he wondered. The fox didn't touch him, just leaned in and uttered humbly into Chad's rounded gray ear:

"Please. Let me lead you. I don't expect sex, I just thought you looked very good and wanted to spend time with you and maybe make you feel good. Don't worry. By the way, your safe word is"