FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

I don't know if anyone can hear me. After all, I'm just silently thinking. Yet the idea that someone can sense my thoughts is quite comforting. Maybe someone from the Great Beyond or another dimension? Or perhaps there is something else, another place far away? I don't know, but I hope someone listens to my story, even though it doesn't really make a difference. There is nothing else for me; nothing other to do than to wait. It's not an exciting story, nor does it have a happy end, or an end at all. I'll simply tell you about the horror that my life became. It won't be too long, don't worry. I wouldn't want to bother you.

However, if someone listens, I greet you. First I'd like to introduce myself, yet I already have to apologize, I don't have a name, not anymore at least. Though feel free to use the name I once possessed. My mother called me Miriam. I used to be a potter, back in the days when I still had a life. While not exciting, it fulfilled my needs and granted me happiness... Though please forgive me, but thinking about my past still hurts me. It makes me realize how much I lost. My apologies for the lack of more detail. So, what else? Oh yes, I guess you might also be interested in my appearance? I'm going to assume you are, forgive me if I'm wrong.

I'm a female wolf. Many years have passed, since everything has gone wrong, and while I lost track of time, my age should be between 25 and 28. I'm about 1.70 meters [5.5 foot] in height. While certainly not buff, my well-accentuated muscles complement my slender stature. My mostly grey colored fur keeps me warm. At the throat, chest, belly, and pubes, it is almost snow white. My big emerald green eyes bewitched many males in the past. Due to my permanent, even though entirely involuntary, nudity I might as well mention some more private details. My beautifully shaped breasts are of moderate size, and my big, firm butt caught the look of many guys in my hometown so long ago.

After this short introduction, you're likely interested in what my situation is now? Well, I am a slave, as you may have already guessed. As mentioned above, I'm not allowed to own a name anymore. Not all slaves are nameless, but the lowest, like me, are. In a way, you can consider me an object. As long as I function as intended, that means as long as I obey, I'm allowed to live. Should I be broken, or in other words disobey, even only once, I'll get thrown away, that means executed. Maybe there will be a time when I choose to disobey, but not yet. As horrible as my life is, I still fear to die.

Though as it turned out, my true misfortune had been to be sold into the equine kingdoms. There is no place in the world, to my knowledge, where slaves are treated worse. By the ancient traditions and rites they follow, slaves are not just a possession like in most other realms. No, most slaves, by their law, are treated and handled like an object. More valued slaves exist, of course, and are treated better. Yet I'm certainly not one of those. At least though I haven't been sent to the mines. By what rumors tell, that's where the real horror reigns.

So, what am I doing all day? I stand in a corner. That, of course, is not my purpose. But it is what I do most of my time. Hence why I tell, well think, my story to keep myself sane. Yet my actual purpose is to care for another slave. A valued slave with a name. So you could consider me a slaves slave. Even though she doesn't own me, of course. We are both properties of our master. However I'm rambling, my apologies, I promised a story after all.

I won't start at the very beginning, though. The memory of my capture and training still pains me too much. So, forgive me please, if I'm going to make this part very short. Our village got raided by a group of marauders. They abducted some of the townsfolk and sold them as slaves. A wealthy slave trainer bought me. He specialized in efficiently breaking and train slaves. My time there was undoubtedly the darkest in my life. Pain and degradation were a constant companion, and it didn't take long for me to break. I'm neither brave nor strong, so I quickly accepted whatever they wanted me to be.

But yes, the actual story! When my training finished, he resold me to a rich equine lord. He resided in an extensive and luxurious estate. I never saw the building again, though, because I never left after entering it. Guards lead me to a room, shoved me in and locked the door behind me. Standing there, I looked around, and what caught my sight shocked me. A large and luxurious bed dominated the medium-sized room. Yet the shocking part had been the creature on the bed. A female bunny, but without limbs. Her extremities were clearly amputated. The wounds healed long ago, but the scars clearly indicated, that she used to have arms and legs. She looked like a head with two watermelon-sized breasts. Otherwise, the room appeared fairly empty. It had a window with nice looking curtains on it and two doors. Through one of them I entered and the other I would learn soon, lead to the bathroom. I didn't know yet, that I'd never leave this room.

The bunny's voice resonated coldly when she suddenly declared in an arrogant tone: "I'm a slave, but not like you. In contrast to you, I have a name, and I'm valued highly. Do you know why?" She asked rhetorically and continued here speech shortly and now quite proudly. "I gave master a great gift. I voluntarily agreed to let him take my limbs to satisfy his - darker - desires." I still to this day can't decide if I should admire her devotion, or pity her naive stupidity. I hate her, so I'm drawn to the latter.

She arrogantly continued: "You in contrary don't have a name, nor do you deserve one. You are an object, and you will be treated as such. The only reason I talk to you now is to get you started. So you better listen well, I won't repeat, and any mistake from your behalf will lead to severe punishment! You are my personal slave. As you can imagine, I need help with some basic tasks. If you fail to help me, you will get severely punished by master. If I give you an order, you're going to act quickly, or master will punish you. If you don't have orders, you're going to stay in that corner beside the window. You will stay there day and night. You're not allowed to sit or lay down at any point, not even for sleep. You're an object you don't have needs, and thus you don't need comfort. If you ever dare to talk you're going to get executed. A servant will provide food for you once a day after I'm going to sleep. That is also the time for your daily toilet visit. You don't have other needs. Now put yourself in that corner." With her last word, she turned her head and even stopped looking at me. After her monologue, no one ever spoke to me directly again.

I obeyed and walked to the corner as commanded by her. The situation could only be described as awkward. The nude, mutilated bunny completely ignored me while lying on her bed. While I, equally naked, stood in the corner and had her perfectly in my field of vision. She seemed to just doze off totally unaffected by the nude wolf staring at her. I struggle to describe the grotesque feeling if someone indeed acts like you're an object. Humiliation, disbelief, and anger mixed themselves into a cocktail of dire emotions. With difficulty, I managed to fight back the tears and swallowed my hate. The only way to survive was to endure.

Several hours had passed, and my feet and legs already hurt. Not used to stand for such a long time this turned out be a crueler torment than imagined. Suddenly she yelled: "Toilet!" Neither did she look at me nor say another word. Uncertain what she exactly expected, I slowly approached her because doing nothing certainly wasn't an option. I decided, I have to get her somehow up, to carry her to the other room, that hopefully had a toilet in it. Carefully I wrapped my arms around her chest. Her humongous breasts turned out to be an annoying obstacle, but in the end, it didn't take too long to get my arms under them. She weighed less than anticipated and hoisting her up turned out to be easier than expected. It made sense, though, after all, half of her got cut away. She neither looked at me nor showed any emotions during the whole act. She stoically let it happen without moving a single muscle herself. I took the gamble and walked towards the door I didn't enter from earlier, hoping to find the toilet in there.

Fortunately, I guessed well. The small room could barely be called a toilet, though. It had a wheel sized hole in the middle, and that's it. I admit, the evil thought, to throw the bunny into that stinking hole, occurred. Yet that led to the more concerning thought of what happens if I accidentally lose grip, and she drowns in the toilet. Master certainly would not care if it happened on purpose or accident. Yet undoubtedly my punishment would be far worse than drowning in a sea of excrements. Pushing the dark thoughts away, I held her body above the hole so she could relieve her bladder. Another situation that could only be described as incredibly awkward. When she finished, I frowned at the thought that without hands, she couldn't wipe herself off. Reluctantly I used one of my hands for that task since without a doubt she expected me to. While keeping her up with one arm, my other hand cleaned off the remaining pee by softly wiping several times over her shaved vagina. It got grosser with the awareness that this toilet missed the usual bowl of water to wash your hands. Without an alternative option, I had to use my fur as a towel. My stomach turned at the thought of what I had to do when she has to do something that is not peeing. I refused to think about that for now and carried the bunny back to her bed. Then I just continued to stare from my corner.

Several hours passed by uneventful. When suddenly, the door slammed open, and a big equine silhouette appeared in the frame. The horse that owned this estate. He quickly approached his slave. The bunny that is, not me, of course. As he walked towards her, his defined muscles captivated me. As much as I hated this tall grey-furred horse, his appearance impressed and admittedly aroused me. Since only clothed in an unbuckled bathrobe, master didn't hide his most impressive asset. Even for a horse, his genitals were huge. His massive cock dangled hypnotizingly in front of his grapefruit sized pink balls. I adored his beauty despite hating him so much for being his slave.

.

He wasted no time, and his length quickly entered his slave. Not slow, not gently, just one quick thrust and master buried his whole cock inside the small slave's body. He didn't even apply oil onto his cock to make it slide in easier as one would usually do. His penis had the girth and length of my lower leg. It seemed impossible. He measured at least 2.5 meters [8.2 feet] in height while a "legged" bunny averaged around 1.30 meters [4.2 feet]. There should not be enough space inside her to take a 40 cm [20 inches] cock, yet she not only seemed unfazed but clearly enjoying it. Admittedly, the sight aroused me greatly, but I also realized, that watching the bunny having sex, is even more awkward than just seeing her lying around. Arousing or not, I knew better than to touch myself, of course. One doesn't need to be a genius to understand that the consequences would have been horrible.

He kept hammering his small bunny. Her stomach visibly bulged whenever his cock thrust in. Yet the screams and moans that escaped her mouth were ones of pleasure and not pain. She even encouraged him to fuck her harder and faster: "Ahhh harder master, please harder fuck your slave senseless, pleeeeeease ahhhhhh!" And master actually somehow managed to increase the pace. Slick noises filled the room as her pussy got wetter and looser. Fluids from her and the horse leaked out constantly. Probably an hour - or 10 bunny orgasms - later master finally climaxed as well. One last thrust in and I witnessed how her belly got bloated by cum. Even after master removed his cock from the exhausted bunny, which produced a slurping noise, the bulge remained. Her wide gaping vagina slowly leaked the horse semen onto the sheets. The horse though had already left. As soon as he had pulled out, he has turned around and walked towards the door without even looking back once. And I, well, got ignored for the whole duration of their one-hour intercourse. It baffled me how they actually had managed to not even glance once into my direction. At least they involuntarily provided some welcome distraction from my aching legs and feet. Quite dreading that, even before one day passed, the pain, caused by standing for an unusually long time, became an issue.

After the bunny regained her breath from the exhausting act, she simply yelled: "Clean up!" Considering the mess, the horse left behind; I knew exactly what she wanted me to do. Yet there was a bit of an issue. With neither water nor a sponge here or in the toilet, I clearly lacked the means to fulfill her task. After I haven't done anything for a few seconds, she seemed to have taken a gaze towards me and noticed my puzzled look. She added in a quite annoyed tone: "The rag is in its mouth!"

Not liking but understanding what she wanted; I slowly walked towards her and started licking. Even though most of our master's semen got pumped into her, he still had had some left to paint his bunny after he had pulled out. Loads of horse cum that waited to be cleaned up. With no other choices given, I reluctantly began to lick. I started with her huge breasts. The flavor of cold and salty cum, that already had begun to dry, mixed with her sweat and fur tasted as disgusting as it sounds. Yet obeying meant to live so I had to accept this most unwelcome meal. After I finished cleaning her breasts, I continued with her belly. While taking my time to delay the inevitable, I had to face it eventually. My tongue slowly closed in on her still gaping and cum leaking vagina. The overwhelming taste and smell filled my eyes with tears, but I had to push through. I licked and swallowed while trying to think as little as possible about what I was doing. My tongue probed into her vagina, because I assumed she wanted to be cleaned in there as well, or rather especially in there.

It took probably the better part of an hour before she finally leaked out all the horse semen inside her. I hated every single second, and the flavor got certainly not better over time. Yet on the upside, I had to kneel to properly reach her for cleaning. That gave my feet and legs, tormented by so many hours of standing, some well-needed rest. Lastly, I licked up the sperm from the bed sheets. With my job done, I backed up towards the corner to continue standing and waiting.

Less than an hour later, a servant delivered food for the bunny. After another of her one-word commands, I fed it to her. It also reminded me of my own hunger. Not that I could do anything about it: My food will be provided later as she explained to me earlier. When she finished eating, she wanted to visit the toilet once more, and with that, her day ended, as she fell asleep soon after. It, fortunately, didn't take too long when finally another servant entered and provided some much-needed food to me. My stomach growled for being neglected for so long. Unlike the bunny, though, I didn't get tasty, refined food. To call what the servant brought swill would be already too much of a praise. It looked and smelled disgusting, arguably more disgusting than the cum I had to lick up earlier. Yet if I wanted to survive uncooked waste and putrid water had to do. Hungry enough to eat a whole cow, I managed to get it down, but the thought that they expected me to solely live off of this "food" terrified me. The servant watched me with disgust while I ate on all fours the rotten food out of the bowl.

After I downed the last of it, he put a bucket in front of me. "Toilet!", He simply said. Finally, some relief for my bladder and bowels! I can't adequately describe to you, how full my bladder had been after a whole day of holding it in. Having the fox servant watch me intently the entire time embarrassed me, yet I barely cared about this nuisance. Not long ago, I would have never thought that terrible food and a bucket to pee into could become the most precious gift to me imaginable. After I relieved my bladder and bowels, the fox quickly cleaned my lower region with an actual rag. Then he took the bucket and left.

Back at my corner place, my next challenge waited. How to sleep while standing? Clueless how to exactly pull off this cruel order, I tried to lean onto the wall to stabilize myself. I steadied my stance further by keeping my feet far apart, which exposed my genital quite obscenely, but I clearly lost the luxury to be concerned about my dignity. While certainly not comfortable, it kept me standing stably, without having to worry about losing balance, while being asleep. At that time, I couldn't imagine how I'd ever be supposed to sleep this way. And I certainly didn't get any sleep on that particular night. As morning approached my legs and feet burned with pain even more than the day before. With no rest at all, the upcoming day would be even longer than the last one. It would take me a long time to learn how to properly sleep while being upright, as well as to get used to always standing.

The second day began similar to the previous one. Except that I can't remember to be ever so tired and exhausted before. My whole body ached by having stood for so long. I just wanted to lie down in that lovely and comfortable bed right in front of me, but I knew they would likely kill me for that. I had to endure the pain. I tried to relieve the pain by standing on only one foot for a bit so the other leg could rest a bit. Then after a while, I switched to the other one. It helped at least a little bit. So I kept doing it, a little relieve is better than none.

Otherwise, the day passed by rather uneventful until the evening approached. The horse visited again to rape his bunny slave. But before he left the bunny looked towards me and spoke directed to master: "This one moves its legs too much when being idle!" My heart almost stopped, and my eyes widened with fear. This complaint could be my demise. I only tried to make the pain more bearable, yet even this seems to be a punishable offense to those monsters. Tears of despair ran down my cheeks. Master simply replied: "Tomorrow someone will take care of it." I didn't know what that meant. Will they kill me? Will they just punish me? As if pain and discomfort hadn't been enough, now also the fear of what will come tomorrow robbed me of my sleep this night.

On day three, and rather early in the morning, a wolf entered. His nudity clearly indicated that he was a slave as well. At least at some point, he had been a male. Now though a large scar dominated the area of his groin. The furless pink scarred spot started at the right side of his waist and went down passing his groin and ended on his left thigh. It seemed to be most likely an old battle injury, or maybe it had been an accident. Yet undoubtedly it cost him his manhood. Neither his balls nor his penis survived whatever did that to him. Aside from his scary looks, the wolf had a pushcart with him, with quite unsettling content in it. He carried a brazier, a hammer and two thick and seemingly heavy iron shackles in it. One didn't need to be a genius to know that this didn't mean anything good for me. Yet at least it seemed they didn't plan my death. At the same time, punishment can be worse than death.

Without addressing, or taking in any way particular notice of me, the wolf started working. He grabbed the two halves of the first iron shackle and fitted it around my ankle. One half seemed to be slightly thinner at the ends so it could fit into the hollowed second part. The coal pan held some heated iron bolts. He used them through vertical holes on the shackles to secure them permanently to my ankles. Hammered in they will be irremovable after the metal cooled down. The metal painfully transferred the impacts of the hammer onto my ankles. More agony to endure, but no noise escaped my mouth. The wolf quickly repeated the procedure at my other ankle and then left, without even looking back once.

The round torus-shaped shackles wore uncomfortably around my ankles. They were fastened so tightly that they cut painfully into my flesh. But the actual agony I had to endure when walking. I had to be almost thankful that so little walking had to be done. The shackles undoubtedly did an excellent job of teaching me to leave my feet on the floor. The additional pain became a constant reminder for that. Further, the shackles were about 10 cm [4 inches] thick metal rings, which made them heavy enough to make lifting my feet quite effortful. Though if they would just have told me to leave my feet on the ground that would have done the trick as well...

I still silently lamented about the unfairness and cruelty of my punishment, when, shortly after the wolf left, the limbless rabbit harshly ordered: "Bathtime!" I guessed that with this one she expected a more thorough cleaning as with the "Clean up" command. A fair assumption, considering that the last mess, the horse made yesterday, had been licked up long ago. Slowly accepting that my tongue is now synonymous with a rag, I began to work. I decided to start with her neck.

My tongue carefully washed over her throat. I always ensured to lick several times over the same spot to really "bathe" her thoroughly. The last thing I needed was to provoke another punishment, this time for performing a sloppy job. Carefully and gently, my tongue wetted every inch of her face. Since she didn't complain yet, my interpretation of her order seemed to be correct. After her whole face glistened with my saliva, I turned my attention to her upper torso. I couldn't suppress a shiver when my tongue washed over her arm stumps. The sight still induced nightmares. Next, I targeted her enormous breasts, those were considerably more enjoyable to clean. It took me quite a while, though. Even though I have to admit, I might have taken a bit more time than necessary there. Generally, taking as much time as possible for tasks like these seemed the smart thing to do. It not only allowed me to kneel sometimes and thus resting my hurting legs, but it further prevented me from being punished for doing a lousy job. Soon her torso glistened like her face. Both thoroughly wetted in my saliva. Presumably, she wanted her backside cleaned as well. So I carefully put my hands under her shoulder and ass cheek and flipped her onto her stomach. Her back didn't take too long to clean. Next up the ass cheeks. I took a long time for them. Not out of necessity since they weren't dirty, but I dreaded what I had to wash after. Ultimately I couldn't delay it anymore, and my tongue began to clean between her ass cheeks. I spare you the details, but it smelled and tasted as horrible as you'd imagine. With the last part of my job done, I flipped her onto her back and walked slowly towards my corner to wait for new orders. All the while feeling the pain the new irons inflicted onto my ankles.

It had been three days since the last time we saw master. Unlike the days before, when he visited his sex slave every evening. With that in mind, her newest command shouldn't have surprised me: "Pleasure!" Seems my "rag" could be used for more than just cleaning. As always, I obeyed. After approaching her, I leaned down and started to work my tongue between her legs. I wanted to do a good job and to be fully honest, not only out of fear. Keep in mind I'm looking at a hot girl the whole day. And as you know as well, I even watched her having sex several times. So it shouldn't come as a surprise that I was quite horny. I, in fact, hadn't had any sexual intercourse since my capture. So yes, while hating both of them, the sight and smell still aroused me greatly.

I started by circling my tongue tip around her clit. While every few seconds, I gave her labia a firm lick from bottom to top, before I continued to circle around her clitoris. Her soft moans told me that I did at least a suitable job. But I also enjoyed her moans for another reason. They were a reaction to something I did. Despite being here for only a few days, it already wore on me to get deliberately ignored. But with each of her moans, she confessed that I exist.

It didn't take long for her vagina to be wet from both my saliva and her own juices. My tongue easily slipped into her vagina, even if she would have wanted, her soft nether lips were too moisture by now, to put up any resistance. At first, only a little bit, before I pulled back and continued to lick her labia. Only a few quick licks before my tongue probed back into her. Her moans got louder, and her breathing faster. Not only her but also my own, pussy got wetter and wetter. Without thinking about it, I touched my own vagina. While continuing to give the bunny the best tongue job I could give. By now, I probed deep into her with my tongue. Only sometimes pulling out to suck her clit for a few moments. Just to penetrate her vagina again, after I gave her labia another few firm licks. This pattern continued until she ordered: "Stop!" At that point, she had, when I interpreted her reactions correctly, climaxed three times. Despite that I had played with my own vagina, I didn't have a single orgasm. It likely would lead to punishment anyway, so holding myself back seemed to be a good idea. Thus I backed up into my corner - still horny and dripping.

Time passed by quite uneventfully until the next time master visited his bunny slave. Before anything else happened, the bunny started to yell while looking in my direction: "That..." my heart skipped a beat. The shackles around my ankles started to hurt even more, as this word alone reminded me of my previous punishment, that made my life even more miserable. I dreaded the consequences for whatever I did wrong. "...touched itself!" she finished. I couldn't believe it. How did she even notice that? I didn't even climax. I just touched myself for a bit while pleasuring her, and even that is a punishable offense to them? It made me want to cry and scream with anger and fear. Yet that would have been suicidal, and I, fortunately, managed to restrain myself. I just dreaded whatever punishment they would put me through next. Master simply answered: "I'll send someone tomorrow to solve that issue. Now get ready slave!" And with that, he rammed his cock deep inside her, and I stopped existing to both of them once more. At least until master left and I had to clean her - full with hatred like never before. I despised doing anything for her at this very moment. Right now, I really just wanted to kill her, but instead, I did my best to calm myself and do my job as good as I could and cleaned masters cum off of her. But believe me, it truly hurts serving someone you'd rather hit in the face.

Early the next day, four guys entered the room. I recognized the neutered wolf who had previously fixed those damn shackles around my ankles. I haven't seen the other three before. They clearly were slaves too, their nudity alone proved that. Two of them were snow white wolves while the third was a lynx. Unlike the wolf I already knew, they had all their genitalia intact. They wordlessly approached me. The Lynx grabbed me under my arms from behind, while the two white wolves hoisted up my legs over their shoulders and spread them far apart. Thus exposing my vulnerable vagina. I feared whatever they planned to do. It is going to be painful and will make my life more miserable permanently, I had no doubts about that. The fear even dwarfed the embarrassment and humiliation of being so exposed and helpless.

The neutered wolf approached with a small metallic contraption in his hand. It looked like a small oval bowl or cap of some sort. He shamelessly put it over my, for canines so typical, puffy vagina. It fitted surprisingly well, and I already had a dire hunch where this was going. What I didn't notice until now, were the five small holes close to the rim of the cap. Each of them measured about half a centimeter [0.2 inches] in diameter. With a pincer, the wolf grabbed a glowing metal bolt from a coal pan they brought with them. It seemed to be made to fit precisely through the holes of the bowl. I began to sweat and tremble in fear. I tried to ready myself for the agony sure to come. But I could not have been ready for the searing pain that engulfed me, as the metal touched my tender flesh. The wolf didn't need to apply a lot of pressure. The hot iron melted my skin and flesh, and effortlessly carved its way through my vagina. Slowly from left to right, I felt my flesh burn away until the end of the rod reappeared on the opposing hole of the metal device over my vagina. The bolts were long enough so that he could bend the ends of the still hot and flexible metal upwards. That will lock them in place forever, as soon as the metal has cooled down.

I don't know how I managed to not scream. I bit so hard onto my teeth that my jaw bones audibly creaked. My whole body shook from the pain, and tears ran down my cheeks. Cold sweat covered my body, and my breaths were shallow and fast. My fingernails clawed deeply into the skin of the Lynx that held my upper body. But he didn't even flinch.

Before I even remotely recovered, the wolf stabbed my sensitive skin with the next bolt. Like the first one, he quickly pushed it through my flesh. The new spot of searing pain drastically intensified the agony. Without giving me a break, he continued until all 5 holes were filled. The torturous agony caused by those five brutal piercings dazed me, yet I didn't pass out. The bolts kept the metal cap perfectly over my vagina. Small holes on top of the cap still allowed me to pee. Though otherwise my sex was rendered inaccessible forever.

After he finished his cruel duty, the three other males put me down onto my feet and simply left, without looking back or showing any sign of sympathy. The throbbing pain in my genital would take weeks to finally cease. But at least it did stop, unlike my sexual frustration.

I'm not going to bother you much longer. Despite that I only told you about the first days of my enslavement, that by now has lasted for so many years, there is not much more to say. After all these years, the boredom might have turned out to be my greatest enemy, as horrible as the constant discomfort is too. Yet I got used to constantly standing, even though I'd love to lie down in that big bed right in front of me. The iron shackles still hurt my ankles, but I got used to the pain. Even my constant sexual frustration became rather a welcome distraction than an actual bother over the years. As much as I'd love to touch myself again. The humiliation of being always nude stopped to be an issue years ago. No, the only thing I truly desire is to talk to someone, to be recognized as a person, and not an object. Yet all I can do is to stand in my corner and recapture my story in my thoughts while maintaining the foolish hope that someone listens - somehow. At least it keeps me sane to an extent.

I don't know if anyone can hear me. After all, I'm just silent...