FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

Connifer lay belly-down on her bed with the laptop, propped comfortably up on two pillows. She tapped lazily around her favourite dating website, the one that occasionally brought her somefur with the right mindset. The pristine luxury of her cotton sheets made a sumptuous backdrop for her heady red-and-soot colouring, and lounging like this always put her in the mood to seek a dom.

And she needed to be in this mood - finding the right fur could be like looking for the proverbial needle in the haystack.

One tab displayed her recently-placed advert which, after a good half hour of revising, she'd finally re-posted. She hoped the message was now suitably direct.

Sweet submissive vixen looking for suitably kinky dominant male. No vanillas please. Arrange to meet at Secrets hotel. 07*** ******

Past that, there was little she could do but vet the applicants more thoroughly.

She blinked tiredly, stretched and shifted her weight a little to one side. Her right hip settled deeper into the firm luxury of her bed. Poor, unsuspecting Prang. He'd had no idea of what to do with her. She'd felt his pain, she really had, but at the end of the day, they'd each been after different things and at the time, she'd felt sorely short-changed.

Perhaps today would bring somefur better. Click - Refresh.

You have 1 message.

She rolled upright again, barely noticing the way her slim, dark ankles uncrossed with the movement - and scrolled up to the envelope icon.

Hey I just saw your ad. You shouldn't use terms like 'vanilla'. You might scare off males.

Connifer deliberated over whether to answer or not, then clicked Reply and typed:

I have no idea what you're talking about.

As she waited to find out whether he'd bother arguing back, she searched the existing ads.

Their are so many qualities you would like about me, one is my looks, my intelligency, my abs, my humour and my personality are all A+++ in any females book. You will have the time of your life with me. First, I don't loose an erection...

"Right..." she muttered, and clicked away.

Hung single bull stud loves showing off to young females in thong.

I'm straight and love to show my stuff...

No, not him either. Connifer flicked her tail and felt it land lightly on the soles of her feet as she clicked away from option number two.

Number three?

19yo virgin want someone to help me lose my virginity this weekend. Mostly if I could stick it in your pussy for a minute...

The vixen groaned and braced her forehead against the fingers of one hand. Click. Get out of here, pup. It would be so much easier to be submissive if she wasn't assertive.

Where on earth was that dom? There had to be one somewhere. She sighed, sat regally up to stretch her back and then climbed off the bed to go to the kitchen for a sip of water.

A few moments later she returned, a cool, wet glass in her hands, her hips swaying gently. She put the glass on the bedside cabinet and clambered back onto her eyrie. Click - Refresh.

You have 1 message.

She clicked.

So you're sweet but not vanilla-flavoured. I think I'd like to find out what flavour you really are.

An inspection of Secrets' website shows me that they have a good choice of rooms. I find the web room very interesting. Perhaps I have found both my lair and my prey.

I have a firm hand. Shall we see how well-matched we are?

Oh.

Connifer checked his profile. Bane Snakebite, aged twenty-seven. Mongoose, dark brown colouration. The hardest dark brown eyes. Above average height, responsible job.

He was too good to be true, surely? She answered.

Well, I would certainly like to be dominated by somefur who knows how. I've been to that particular room before but didn't get to use the web. Perhaps we can explore its possibilities.

How would you like your slave to present herself?

And, biting her lip and hoping she didn't sound too keen, she clicked Send.

She pulled at one of the pillows, rolled onto her side again with the lithe flirtation of a cat and settled her head down on it. Bane Snakebite. He had potential. She ran a finger along her bed sheets, watching the gentle monochrome of her dark hand and the whiteness of the cotton.

Soon she deemed that enough time had passed for her to check again. Click.

Sure enough, he'd replied.

That's a very well-trained start, Connifer. You will wear a dildo inside yourself for the 24 hours prior to our meeting, which you will not remove at any time. Neither will you masturbate. I like to watch my slaves squirm under the heat of orgasm deprivation.

(Oh! Oh, oh, oh!) thought Connifer.

Rich-coloured slaves like you look their most attractive in black. Make sure what you wear is black and moderately revealing.

Behaviour instructions: you will spend the entire time sitting on your feet, unless I tell you otherwise. Similarly, knees together unless I tell you to separate them. Eyes lowered, ears high, hands linked behind your back when you are not on all fours. I do not wish to have to remind you of these specifics.

I shall book the web room and will see you there on Saturday evening.

xXx

The room had a cozy sense of familiarity even though she'd only been there once before. The web itself lurked like a room partition. The lights set into the wall were small, the light they cast meager, but sufficient for a sensual den such as this. The carpet was as soft as soft could be and the bed had been pushed toward the rear of the room, almost an afterthought. The place a visitor to Secrets went only after climax - and exhaustion - had been reached.

The hotel staff kept the temperature relatively high. No male could ever complain of shrinkage and the only reason a female would ever get hard nipples was arousal.

Connifer closed the storage box and left her hands resting on its lid for a few seconds afterwards, considering what was to come. Her full day of penetration had left not just her vagina, but her whole body warm and fluid, and scintillating with desire. Her legs and tail felt so soft she could barely walk.

She slipped her arms into the black garment she'd chosen and wrapped the narrow sides round and round her body, working down until they came to her hips. She tied a bow against one hip. Then she turned to study the room, straightening the set of straps that clung snug around her waist, tucked under her butt cheeks and close against her crotch. Where to wait?

In front of the web would be perfect.

She walked daintily over, the dildo solid inside her, and knelt. She arranged her tail behind her, settled her ass on her heels, and linked her hands in the small of her back.

She waited, sometimes watching the carpet, sometimes gazing at the door.

She waited.

xXx

The lock snicked and she straightened. Quickly she ran through a mental check of herself: back straight, ears cocked - she shook to bring up the fur at their bases - and her knees together.

The door opened inwards and she lowered her eyes.

He was silent and took his time. Perhaps he appraised the room before he came in properly. She supposed he must have done. A master of the art, he kept his silence as he closed the door behind him and glided from left to right without approaching her.

He must have seen her, though.

He opened the storage box and she heard the muted whisper of fabric as he took off his clothes. He must be wearing his dom gear underneath.

The dildo made her ache inside. What had he said? I like my slaves to squirm with the agony of orgasm deprivation. Whatever it was she felt now, she realised it would be nothing compared to what she was going to experience.

I want to look. She tilted her head and was rewarded with her first view of her master, in the flesh. He was reasonably broad-bodied with rough-textured brown fur. His clothing, like hers, was black. His ears were short and looked cropped.

He turned and she lowered her eyes. Perhaps just a fraction too late.

He paused, although she wasn't sure whether that was in reaction to her disobedience or whether he was just taking his time again.

Oh, the silence, his unhurried stillness. Divine. A younger Connifer would have been desperate for him to hurry up, to touch her. But today's Connifer? Her flesh hummed with anticipation and she relished the feeling.

He walked over. Every cell in her body wanted to scream with delight. "I'm always very gentle with my less-experienced slaves," he said conversationally, as if there'd been nothing but a brief lull in a conversation. His voice was so calm, and with a syrupy depth. "I let them make a few mistakes, be lenient with them. When they're inexperienced."

He put something under Connifer's chin to raise her head. With trained reluctance she raised her eyes to meet his to show she was listening.

"But you," he continued. "You know exactly what you're doing. You're too experienced for me to let a slip like that go uncorrected.

"Am I not right?"

So you saw. Oh, Bane. "Yes, sir."

His face was as calm as his body and his voice.

"'Sir' is a name for your boss. I am not your boss. Who am I?"

Connifer felt the gentle pressure of the paddle under her chin. "You're my master."

A pause, and Connifer wondered with intense excitement whether she'd said the wrong thing. His eyes remained inscrutable and the paddle didn't move, didn't tremble, didn't betray anything that he might have been thinking. "Very good," he said, his tone of voice making it clear she hadn't pleased him all that much.

The paddle left her chin so she dropped her eyes again. Biting her lip, she wondered whether he would be more pleased, more aroused, if she were to do something disobedient. No, she decided. Just for now, I'll obey.

She found herself presented with the paddle again, side-on. It had a long, narrow handle. He pressed it against her mouth so she took it and held it in her teeth. In this way he pushed her head back slightly and when he let go, she realised he'd pulled her spine to a straight, proud angle.

"Open your knees."

She did so.

"Link your hands behind your neck, not your lower back."

She made the necessary adjustment, making sure not to lose the height of her chest, the straightness of her back.

"That's better." He walked around her, slowly taking a tour until he arrived back in front of her. His tail waved like a fat snake in front of Connifer, and then disappeared around her side. She felt his silent bulk behind her.

And Connifer? She felt a strong, silent pride in the posture of her body, the push of her breasts against the black fabric, the long feeling of her tail stretched out behind, the triangle shapes she could feel herself making.

"Yes," he said pensively at length. "Yes, I believe you'll look very beautiful when you're punished. Onto your hands and knees."

With the confidence of an experienced slave and the eagerness of a pup, Connifer obeyed. Bane's uncanny gaze felt like satin over the surface of her body.

He took the paddle from her and stood up straight. Suddenly he seemed so much bigger than her, although of course the illusion was simply made by height. "Lower your breasts to the floor. Forehead to the carpet. Good. Now," he said, running a hand over her rear, his fingers almost brushing the base of the dildo. She took the opportunity to swallow, the relief of no longer holding the paddle a minor pleasure in itself. "Tail up and over your back."

Such sweet surrender. She felt the soft gravity of her tail as it came to rest on her back and waited for her punishment.

It came with a sharp sting. She felt her back curl in reflex and then straighten again. The pain evolved in a familiar way: the explosion of the smack retreated after two or three seconds and gave way to a harsh tingle of pain and then the faint influx of heat she knew so well as her blood travelled to the skin there.

It came almost like the notes of a melody, she thought sometimes.

He looped his fingers into the scruff of her clothes as if to hold her steady. Neither moved for a moment. Conifer found time to wonder whether she pushed her ass out and visibly stretched her tail up in response to his tense silence, or whether she only imagined it.

Another short shock, followed by a gentle caress from his fingertips, only two or three of them as he kept his grip on the paddle. Her skin sang under her fur like a gagged crooner, and the soft roundness of his fingertips made a very different sensation. It burned beautifully.

Another strike - and then another! And another! She kept her ground and felt glad she hadn't cowered under the onslaught. The dildo felt swollen inside her, although of course that was impossible: surely Connifer herself was the one who'd swollen. It didn't move; she swayed her hips to try and make it rub inside and offer her just a little relief, but it didn't budge.

Then she felt pressure as the dildo pushed in of its own volition and realised Bane must be pushing its base with his finger. Maybe he would give her the real thing later.

She hoped so.

All was sultry-calm. The room was still, its breath bated. The wall-lights glowed like the eyes of a watching beast. Her ass had started to feel so hot she briefly imagined it glowing, too. The storage box discretely bided its time over by the far wall, its contents a million miles away, just for the moment. And there they could stay. The web loomed over them both.

His body swung and delivered another stinging blow, and then another one. He pinched her left butt cheek with a bit more haste than he'd used so far. She was sure she released lubrication in response, but without the permission to shut her legs... He braced himself and swiped again, again and again.

Her ass burned. So hot. Fire trapped beneath the insulating fur. She didn't dare look up, although she still wondered how much disobedience he liked. His posture may have been in the corner of her eye but it couldn't have been clearer to her. He was attentive, strong. She could almost smell the adrenaline in him.

Come on, Bane. Do it to me.

He stood up swiftly. "Tail down. Head up."

Then she realised she'd nestled her head between her forearms like a supplicant in prayer. And oh, how right it felt.

He stood in front of her and leaned down enough to raise her chin with his finger. Their eyes locked and she saw he wanted to say something. And then it melted away on his tongue like fois gras and she realised with a tangible sense of loss that she'd never know what those words would have been.

He stroked her muzzle and fondled her ears. She leaned in to one of his hands, so blissful did it feel. The kind of fondling that made a fur's skin feel separate from her skull and made her chest flutter. "Go over to the web and climb on. No words."

Yes master, she thought, the words like cream in her mind. She walked, a four-legged rhythm that rolled her shoulders and wiggled her hips. She came to the web and touched it. Black and soft, elastic yet resistant. She stretched it experimentally. This could be interesting...

She glanced at her master and climbed up it, aware of his command for her to avoid standing. She came to a stop with her feet off the ground, braced entirely within the web.

She sent him another look, part invitation, part a request for information on how he felt.

His feet were planted wide, his hands on his hips, one nonchalantly gripping the paddle. Tail and ears raised with confidence and a little complacent belligerence.

And he had a bulge in his trousers, stretching the dark fabric and pushed to one side from the pressure of the restriction. As she saw it she felt blown away. Do you desire me so much? She rippled from her shoulders to her thighs. Fuck me.

He walked over. Connifer felt herself shrink back from the force of his authority. He reached through the web and touched her cheek. "Don't get confident, slave. My others have learned humility."

Other slaves. Part of Connifer felt aroused by the idea of Bane's legion of slaves, all bare-bottomed and vulnerable for his satisfaction. Part of her felt rebuked. She bit her lip and lowered her eyes.

"That's an improvement. Stretch your arms out to the sides."

She obeyed, gripping the web as far out to each side as she could. The ropes of the web pushed against the tender insides of her arms, splayed across her chest and belly, pushed her breasts, resisted against one knee.

He stayed where he was but reached through again to hold her left wrist. With a gentle flick of his fingers and a twist, he made her let go and wrapped the stretchy black rope twice around it. He looked at her for a moment and then moved to her other wrist, which he treated in the same fashion. A kind of calm had come over him, the silence of powerful sexual arousal which Connifer recognised.

He walked around the web and reappeared behind her. Unable to see him, she relied purely on touch to understand that he stretched the web around her leg so that it held her at the knee, and then at the ankle. He placed her foot carefully onto a rung so that she had support. He did something similar with the other leg, although she was left convinced he'd restrained her in an asymmetrical way.

He came back to her front and reached through to touch her clothes. He seemed to learn the shape of her to pby running his fingers lightly over the hems as they crossed over her front again and again. As soon as he understood how she'd wrapped herself he pulled at the strips and exposed her breasts.

He fondled them for a short moment, but it was more than enough for him to feel Connifer's bullet-hard nipples.