FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

Jarzi yawned and rested his head on his furry paws. He always felt drowsy after eating lunch and the afternoon seemed to move at a crawl. It didn't help that his job as a scribe in one of the large warehouses that bordered the river was dull at the best of times. It was his responsibility to keep a record of all goods being loaded or unloaded at the docks, and his days were spent writing and cross-checking long lists of cargo. The young jackal sighed and looked at the piles of crates and bags around him. The city was famed for its far-reaching trade routes but the vast majority of the goods that flowed through the warehouse weren't exciting at all. No fine ceramics, precious gemstones or fragrant spices in sight. His ledgers mostly recorded shipments of corn, fabrics, dried fish and other common wares that would be used to feed and clothe the teeming masses of the city.

He played idly with the abacus on his desk. He was seriously considering lying down for a nap when a bell rang outside, the signal that a boat was about to dock. Glad to be roused from his boredom, the little canine grabbed a tablet and pencil and hurried to the wharf.

Outside, he was greeted by the hot midday sun and by the curse-filled shouts of sailors guiding their boat to the landing spot. Their ship was small and narrow, unlike the bulky galleys that usually carried goods along the river. In fact, it almost looked more like a smuggler's vessel than a merchant's. He saw that most of the crewmen were leopards: large, bare-chested felines with lean muscles, agile bodies and golden fur spotted with black blotches. One of them threw a rope to a worker on the dock who quickly tied it to the mooring point. A few moments later a gangplank came down with a clatter and the ship's captain strolled ashore.

The man did not look like a merchant. He was a lion, one head taller than the other crewmen. He wore a white open shirt with loose sleeves and blue breeches held in place by a broad leather belt. His thick, sand-coloured mane was braided and adorned with gold and precious stones and a large scar crossed his nose. He greeted Jarzi with a bone-crushing handshake.

"I want a gang of workers to unload my ship and a place to store my merchandise," he announced.

"Of course sir. May I ask what your cargo is?" Jarzi replied, bowing respectfully.

Humming gaily, the captain pulled a piece of paper from the inside of his shirt and handed it to the jackal. Jarzi unfolded it and read the contents aloud.

"Barrels of wine, oil, sacks of grain, dried fruits and... eight male slaves."

He raised an inquisitive brow towards the sailor.

"Forgive me, but I have to ask where and how you acquired these slaves."

"Quite legally, I can assure you," the feline replied with an insolent grin, "I traded them with the chieftain of a village far to the north. All of them are thieves and bandits who were sold in just punishment for their crimes. They would confirm it themselves if they could speak our tongue."

Jarzi was far from convinced, but there was nothing else to say. A group of dockers - strong bulls and horses clad in loincloths - had assembled beside the ship and with a sign of his hand he told them to proceed. He and the captain stood watching while the dockers started emptying the ship's hold. Sweat mixed with dust trickled down the backs and faces of the workers as they hefted the heavy sacks onto their shoulders and trotted to the warehouse.

The jackal fanned himself with the papers in his hand and held a handkerchief to his nose every time one of the dockers passed close to him. Noticing this, the lion laughed and slapped him on the back, knocking the wind out of the smaller man.

"Can't stand the smell of honest toil? You wouldn't last a day on my ship."

Before Jarzi could reply, one of the crewmen appeared on the deck leading a line of shackled slaves out of the hold. Three wolves and five horses made their way down the gangplank, their legs wobbling and their eyes blinking in the sun after days of being chained in the dark hull. They were dishevelled and reeked of unwashed bodies but otherwise looked healthy enough. A few of them still wore the filthy remnants of what were once their clothes but the rest were stark naked. One horse had a tattered shirt on his back but was totally bare below the waist, and a wolf next to him wore a pair of breeches so torn and dirty that Jarzi could not tell what their original colour was. The wolf exchanged a few hushed words with his neighbor but a leopard silenced them both with a sharp gesture of his hand.

One horse in particular caught Jarzi's attention. He was a well-built male; tall and muscular, with a blazing chestnut coat verging on red-brown and a long black flowing mane that adorned a fine long neck and attractive head. His whole frame suggested a balance of grace and strength that was absent from the rougher draft horses and bulls that worked on the docks. The jackal's eyes ran down the curve of his neck, dwelt on his broad torso and dark nipples, and finally fell on his brown belly. To his frustration the slave's genitals were covered by a thin strip of cloth held in place with a piece of rope, and only a patch of slightly thicker hair below his navel gave a hint of what was hidden from sight.

"The ship's manifest specifically mentions five stallions..." the scribe said hesitantly.

"So? Did you learn how to read but not how to count?" the captain replied good-humouredly.

"Well, I need to check he is still, you know, intact..." the jackal continued, pointing towards the horse. "It is the procedure," he quickly added.

"Oh, I see," the captain nodded.

The lion took the horse by the mane and gently drew him closer, caressing his nose and murmuring reassuring words in a language Jarzi did not understand. He touched his chest and played with his nipples for a while before inching his hand downwards, towards his navel and pubic area. Slowly, he slid his fingers inside the loincloth, fondling as he went. The horse's eyes darted around, his breathing heavy and his body trembling with both fear and arousal. Just as a bulge appeared in the front of the fabric, the lion grabbed the flimsy garment and pulled it down, ripping it apart effortlessly.

"Satisfied?" he smiled, flinging the rag aside.

Jarzi swallowed his saliva as he beheld the considerable manhood that swayed between the slave's thighs. The stallion rumbled in surprise and pawed the ground nervously, feeling the gaze of the two men on his exposed body. A ripe scent of male sex slowly wafted to the jackal's nose but this time he did not reach for his handkerchief.

"Prime stallion flesh," the lion continued, visibly amused, "No geldings on my ship."

The captain bent down and lifted the horse's leg up, exposing a pair of dangling testicles. Jarzi drew closer and tilted his head to get a better look.

"Come on, touch them," the feline egged him on.

The jackal extended a hand and, after a second of hesitation, cupped the low-hanging orbs. They were massive, each testicle barely fitting into his palm, and they felt firm and warm to the touch. This was not the first time he had seen a stallion's private parts - in fact, the sight was common enough on the docks - but he had never seen one so close, let alone touched one, although he had often fantasized about doing so. The heat made the hefty scrotum slick and shiny with sweat. He sniffed deeply and the warm, bodily smell of concentrated animal life filled his nostrils. It was intoxicating and obscene.

"You have a thing for bigger men, don't you?" the lion whispered in his ear.

Jarzi withdrew his hand as if he had been stung. He cast a nervous glance around, hoping no one other than the captain had seen him. Blood rushed to his face when he saw two of the leopards leaning against the railing of the ship and staring at him with mocking grins on their faces.

"No, I was just... inspecting him for... defects..." he stammered, wiping his hand against his leg.

"I am not judging your tastes," the lion said softly, "In fact, he is also my favourite."

"Really?" the jackal replied, relaxing slightly.

"And perhaps," the feline continued, "I could be convinced to let you have some fun with him..."

Jarzi's heartbeat accelerated. The horse was standing with his hands tied behind his back and his tail swishing lightly over his buttocks. He looked even more handsome now that he was no longer wearing the filthy rags, and Jarzi burned to touch him again.

"Why would you do that?"

"In my line of work it pays to have friends inside the ports, especially when the provenance of your merchandise is sometimes controversial..." the lion purred, "So, shall we take this handsome stud to a quiet spot?" he added, patting the stallion's shoulder.

The canine finally understood. Such arrangements were common enough - although payment was usually in gold rather than flesh - but there was always a risk. The port officials often turned a blind eye to minor pilfering but from time to time they felt the need to make an example out of a few unlucky dockers or clerks. He gulped, remembering the public floggings that took place in the market square every week.

"I shouldn't... What if someone finds out?"

The captain rolled his eyes. "No one will know or care. There might even be some coin left for you after the sale. See it as a fee for your services."

Jarzi's ears pricked up at the mention of money. His salary was pitifully low and despite sharing most of his expenses with a friend the best he could to afford was a meagre room in a run-down part of town. A little extra income would certainly go a long way for both of them. He wasn't sure his friend would approve of the deal, but he didn't need to know the details.

The jackal hesitated and fiddled with the papers in his hands until the lion gave him an impatient look.

"Maybe I was mistaken," he shrugged, turning as if to walk away.

"Wait!" Jarzi whispered, "Fine, we can go inside the warehouse."

The captain smiled and made a sign to the sailor next to him. With a shout, the leopard drove the other captives onwards, leaving the stallion behind with the two men. As his companions departed the horse began to look nervous again but the feline put his hand on his nose and gave it a gentle stroke. Patting his flanks and neck, he lead him towards the building.

The scribe guided the lion to a small storage room at the back of the warehouse. Warm rays of sunlight filtered through a dirt-encrusted window high in the wall, illuminating a few broken crates, some wooden shelves and a bare floor of beaten earth. The air in the cramped space was stifling and dusty but Jarzi knew that here they would be hidden from view. After locking the door he turned towards the stallion, his hands trembling with anticipation. He approached the larger male and let his equine aroma hit his nose. It was a potent mixture of sweat, hay and musky body oil with a faint trace of manure that made his head spin. The stallion's chest rose and fell as he breathed, and perspiration beaded on his hide. A drop of sweat ran down his stomach and into the fleshy opening of his sheath. Jarzi licked his lips, drew closer and fell on his knees with his nose only a few inches from the stallion's damp skin. But he dared not touch him. There was a moment of hesitation in which the slave looked at him with uncomprehending eyes, his wrists held firmly behind his back by the lion. The jackal shivered with shame, suddenly feeling very dirty.

"What are you waiting for?" the lion grumbled.

"I... I can't..." the canine muttered, rising to his feet, "I know it's stupid, but..."

"But what?" the lion growled, his affable mask slipping.

"It's vile," the jackal barked, "He can't even understand us!"

The lion burst out in laughter. "Is that what's troubling you?"

He gripped the stallion's mane, pulled his head towards his, and whispered something in his ear in the same foreign tongue he had used before. Almost instantly the horse seemed to relax and his huge penis dropped between his legs. With his free hand the lion grabbed the base of his dick and started stroking it.

"What did you tell him?" the jackal asked, looking stunned.

"Simply that we were going to make him cum," the lion replied with a big smile on his face, "Poor guy hasn't had any release in days."

"You mean you..."

"That's how I keep them docile," he explained, "I reward good behaviour with little treats and I punish the rebellious ones by keeping them in chains. Even the proudest stallion will break if you leave him to stew with his balls full for a week or two. Works better than the whip."

"I thought he looked scared..."

"You'd have been scared too if you had seen your own face," the captain chuckled, "You looked like you were going to take a bite out of his jewels."

The horse grunted as the lion kept stroking him, his fat cock lengthening and twitching upwards under the jackal's astonished eyes. He had seen horses urinate before but he had never imagined that their members could grow so large. The stallion's dick was as long as his own arm and about as wide too, with rough pink and grey skin criss-crossed with pulsating veins. It was thickest at its base but its tip ended in a flat mushroom-like glans from which a rigid urethra protruded. Keeping one hand wrapped around the slave's penis, the lion slipped his fingers into his buttcheeks and started prodding his ass. The stallion snorted and a spurt of clear liquid dribbled from his cocktip. He thrust his hips in the air, sending droplets flying.

"He's not going to last long," the lion grumbled, his head pressed against the stallion's torso, "Get something to collect his cum, quick!"

Jarzi spotted a small clay pitcher on top of a wooden shelf and took it.

"Hurry, he's going to come," the lion pressed him. The stallion was tossing his head and stomping his foot, nostrils flaring in excitement.

The lion's tone spurred Jarzi to action. Holding the pitcher in one hand he seized the throbbing cock in the other, clasping it just below the glans. The horse was now jerking and humping violently, and the dripping member almost slipped out of the jackal's hand. Spurts of precum squirted from the gaping dick hole each time the canine involuntarily nudged the stallion to even greater heights of arousal by bumping his glans against the smooth rim of the jar. Again and again the small canine attempted unsuccessfully to guide the massive penis into the container, and soon his clothes and fur were stained with sticky equine fluids.

At this moment the stallion curled his lip, thrust his hips forwards and neighed. Jarzi felt his urethra contract violently as sperm was forced out of his balls and through his cock. In a final frantic gesture he managed to align the flaring glans with the opening of the jar just as the slave climaxed. Cumshot after cumshot poured from his cockslit, filling the jug with warm semen. The captain swore under his breath, clearly struggling to keep hold of the stallion, but finally the jackal felt the spams of the ejaculation grow weaker. The horse's dick twitched one last time, shot a weak spurt of clear semen and then stood at rest.

The silence in the room was only broken by the raspy breathing of the slave, his body heat adding to the temperature in the room. His mane was drenched, and specks of foam hung from the corner of his mouth. His sex was starting to soften but Jarzi kept hold of his glans for as long as he could, only letting go reluctantly when the moist, spongy flesh slipped from between his fingers. The flaccid shaft bounced between the horse's legs and slowly retracted inside his sheath, a thin rope of seed hanging from its tip.

"Now that's a real stallion!" The captain put his arm around the horse's shoulders, paying no attention to the sweat that soaked his shirt. "You'll fetch me a nice little bag of gold on the market," he said tenderly as he reached down between the slave's legs to fondle his balls. To Jarzi's surprise, the horse tilted his head towards his master and affectionately rubbed his snout against his cheek. The jackal shuffled uneasily on his feet until the lion turned towards him.

"Let me see how much you've harvested."

Jarzi looked inside the pitcher. He had done his best to collect as much of the seed as he could, but a good portion of the cum had ended up splashing on his clothes, on his hands and on the floor, forming small puddles at his feet. Despite this, the bottom of the container was filled with a thick layer of greyish horse semen. He dipped his fingers inside and his knuckles came back dripping with the sticky liquid. It was thick, smelly and warm, barely cooling down in the hot room. He rubbed it between his fingers and looked at the black orbs under the stallion's crotch, thinking how less than a minute ago it had been inside the stallion's body.

"Come on, show me!" the lion insisted.

Reluctantly, Jarzi presented the pitcher to the feline. The captain grinned as he inspected the contents of the jar. He tilted his head back, took a long swig of the liquid, licked his lips and handed the half-empty pitcher to the jackal. "Drink," he simply said, "You won't have another opportunity anytime soon."

Jarzi hesitated. It was one thing to touch a horse, even his sexual parts, but it was quite another to receive his semen inside his own body. He brought the pitcher to his lips and drank a small sip. A salty, thick liquid covered his tongue and slid slowly down his throat and into his belly. The weird taste and sudden feeling of warmth in his stomach made him wince and he quickly lowered the container, a thin string of whitish semen hanging from his mouth. He passed the pitcher back to the lion who finished it in one gulp and tossed it aside where it shattered on the floor. The stallion looked on placidly as the two men drank his seed. It was as if he was well-used to this post-climax ritual.

"Fresh nourishment is rare on a ship," the lion smirked, guessing the smaller man's thoughts, "Me and my men put our captives to good use during the journey."

Before the jackal could reply, the feline groped the stallion's ass with his hand. He licked his whiskers and caressed the slave's round buttocks, squeezing and slapping the plump cheeks.

"We better leave," the jackal whispered, casting a nervous glance towards the door, "They'll wonder what we're doing in here."

"They're welcome to join us," the man laughed. He gripped the horse's shoulder and made him turn and face the wall, legs outstretched and hands pressed against the stone. The lion snarled, grabbed the slave by the neck with his teeth and opened his pants. Jarzi caught a glimpse of his penis as he guided it inside the slave's ass. It was pink and pointy, and the stallion let out a small whimper when the barbed member penetrated him. His discomfort was brief. The lion grunted, growled and humped for less than a minute before climaxing, thrusting and swearing repeatedly as he shot his seed inside the submissive ass. His needs sated, the lion panted for a few moments and pulled out with a satisfied sigh. He turned towards Jarzi, proudly flaunting his cum-dripping manhood.

"Your turn now," he said in a tone that was more order than invitation.

The horse was holding his tail high above his buttocks, meekly waiting to be used again. Feline semen seeped from his anus and a thin trickle of blood ran down his back. The lion had broken his skin during his orgasm.

"I don't want to hurt him," the jackal answered lamely.

"He's taken cat, horse and wolf cock during our trip. Your prick will barely tickle him," the sailor replied. He pushed a small crate closer to the horse with his feet. "Fuck him," he commanded.

Despite his earlier protest, Jarzi did not need much convincing. The slave might as well get used to this sort of treatment, he told himself. He climbed atop the crate, his heart beating fast and a bulge visible in the front of his pants. His eyes darted, giving a furtive look at the lion, clearly indicating that he didn't want to be watched. The big cat ignored the hint and stood with his arms crossed. His stance told he was intent on enjoying the spectacle. After a few awkward seconds the jackal lowered his gaze in resignation, unfastened his belt, freed his erection and pressed the tip of his penis against the slave's anus. He felt himself slide effortlessly into the stallion. The horse was loose and the semen that coated his hole provided ample lubrication. Jarzi rested his hands on the stallion's hips and started thrusting, slowly at first then picking up pace, his dick making soft squelching noises in the silent room. The stallion barely flinched when his hole swallowed the jackal's knot. His insides were warm and spacious, easily able to accommodate much larger males.

The slave's body felt hot. His back was damp and the smell of sweat and blood permeated the air. Jarzi flicked his tongue on the horse's skin, liked the coppery taste, and started lapping greedily, his inhibitions melting. He was now fucking in fast, frenzied strokes and for the first time the horse moaned, although from pain or pleasure the jackal cared not. Powerful muscles clenched around the swollen knot, enough to send Jarzi over the edge. Loud growls turned to high pitched yaps as the jackal discharged watery dog cum inside the horse's rectum. When it was over, the panting jackal leaned forward and rested his head against the hollow of the slave's muscular back.

"See? You needed this more than me," the captain teased him.

The jackal struggled to pull his knot free. It popped out with a wet noise and a mixture of sperm and ass juices gushed from the gaping anus. Jarzi climbed off the crate, conspicuously avoiding looking in the lion's direction. His knot was still bobbing from his sheath, and his erection would take several minutes to retract into his body. Trying not to show his embarrassment, he opened his mouth and spoke.

"Being a slave doesn't sound so bad. He will be fed, housed and fucked all his life."

"True," the lion replied, "Although I reckon this one will not remain a man for much longer."

"What do you mean?" The scribe asked.

"A new fad spreading among the nobility. They believe that eating horse testicles is a sure recipe to increase a man's potency. It's nonsense if you ask me, but it drives a healthy demand for well-hung stallions." He took the horse's muzzle in his paws and gave it a kiss. "A few more like him and I'll be a rich man."

An icy feeling went through Jarzi's chest. It was clear that the slave did not have the slightest idea what the two men were discussing.

"But what will happen to him afterwards?"

The captain shrugged. "Maybe a kindly old lady will take him on as a domestic. Or maybe he'll serve as a breeding hole for other slaves. What does it matter? The important thing is that there will be more handsome studs for you to play with if you keep your end of the bargain."

Few words were exchanged while the lion tied the horse's hands behind his back. It was a relief when the two exited the room and the scribe found himself alone. After wiping his cock with a rag and covering the stains on the floor with dirt he went back to his desk. His clothes were a crusty mess but luckily he kept a spare tunic and pants just in case, and with the help of some water and scented oil he managed to make himself presentable again. A glimpse outside showed that the sun was noticeably lower in the sky. He had spent more time in the room than he had realised. Before leaving he filled the paperwork for the ship. The slaves were now registered and could legally be sold.

Contradictory thoughts crowded his mind on the way back home. The slave did not know it yet but soon a new master would buy him, slice off the valuable orbs from his body and then discard the mutilated slave like offal. Of course there was nothing he could do about that, but he wished the captain hadn't revealed that little detail to him. It had definitely spoiled his enjoyment.

"Who knows, maybe he'll be happier as a gelding," he mused as he approached the old crooked building where he and his friend rented a room together. He slowly climbed the creaking stairs to his lodgings, wondering if the big tiger had already returned from his job as a water carrier. As soon as he crossed the threshold a pair of strong arms grabbed him from behind and lifted him off the floor.

"You're late today," the tiger whispered in his ear.

"I got caught up, but let me make amends," the jackal replied, rubbing his backside against his friend's crotch. The tiger set him on his feet and watched as the jackal kneeled, unfastened his pants and freed his soft member.

They lay naked on the pile of rags and hay that served as their bed, enjoying the last rays of sunshine that filtered in through the window. The tiger yawned, stretched his body and purred in bliss. Jarzi was resting beside him, his head resting on his companion's furry belly. His eyes were closed and his face peaceful but worry gnawed at his heart. The tiger's sense of smell was sharp, and he wasn't sure the oil had fully masked the horse's body odor. Part of him burned to come clean and tell him what had happened during the afternoon but he could not find a way to make the truth sound less embarrassing. Reluctantly, he got up and wrapped a towel around his waist. "We made ourselves dirty, we should go to the bath-house before it closes," he said. The tiger followed him downstairs, his own towel casually flung over his shoulder.

The bath-house was located just across the narrow street. It was a small brick structure built for practical reasons rather than for pleasure, and it contained only a few tubs of clean but unheated water, jars of sand for rubbing the body and bars of coarse soap for washing the more intimate parts. At this late hour they were the only customers, and after tossing two copper coins to the sleepy old goat that served as an attendant they gave themselves a quick scrub.

Jarzi was still bent over the water rinsing his face when the tiger slid his fingers between his cheeks and started rubbing. "Have you changed clothes since this morning?" he asked.

The words, more than the sudden intrusion, made the jackal shudder. His brain raced for a credible explanation.

"Yes, one of the idiots at the warehouse dropped a jar of oil and splashed my clothes. I had to change before coming back."

"Is it why you are reeking of horse dick?"

A sharp claw tickled the sensitive spot under his tail and the canine yelped in surprise. He jolted around, his hands gripping the edge of the tub.

"What are you saying? You know many horses work at the..."

"Don't take me for a fool," the tiger cut him off, "I am not jealous, simply curious."

There was no anger in the feline's green eyes, only amusement, so he reluctantly told him the truth.

"I should never have accepted," he concluded, "There is no way he acquired his cargo legitimately, and I really don't like the thought of the slaves being..."

The tiger was laying on a bench with his hands behind his head and his legs crossed. He frowned as if lost in deep thought, the tip of his tail tapping against his ankle.

"You say they will be kept in the slave pens until market day next week?"

Jarzi nodded. A smile grew on the tiger's face.

"Then I think all of our money problems are solved."

"Are you talking about the cut he will give us after the sale?" the jackal asked, genuinely puzzled.

"No, I suggest we pay them a little visit tonight," the tiger explained patiently, "You have the keys to the pens, and I can take care of the watchman."

"You want to free them?"

"Who said anything about freeing them?" the tiger grinned, crossing his fingers over his white belly, "I know people who will be happy to take them off our hands straight away for a good price. No questions asked."

"Are you mad?" Jarzi said breathlessly. "The captain will claw our eyes out."

"He is probably out drinking his new fortune with his men. We'll hop on a boat and by the time he sobers up we'll be long gone."

"But he'll send the watch after us," the jackal countered, his tone increasingly panicked.

"The only document that proves he owns the slaves is inside your desk. Burn it and write another one, and this time report your suspicions. When the authorities find it we will be the least of his worries."

"It's a bit risky, isn't it?"

"Of course it is," the tiger replied impatiently, "But it's our way out of this cesspool."

The interior of the bath-house was slowly growing dark. They both stayed silent for a while, listening to the muffled noises of the streets in the background. Eventually the old goat's voice rose from outside the room, informing the two men that it was time to leave. Jarzi stirred the water with his finger and picked up his towel.

"I agree, but on one condition. We'll take the horse with us."

The darkness blurred the tiger's features, but there was no mistaking the look of surprise in his glowing eyes.

"Why? He's probably worth two hundred gold crowns alone."

"The others will make us rich enough, and we'll need a slave to carry our stuff, no?"

The tiger let out a big laugh. "You little pervert. Fine! He'll come with us."

He uncrossed his legs. The fading evening light revealed a little pink tip protruding from his sheath.

"I feel hungry again, and I've never tasted horse flesh before," he said, licking his lips.