FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

Wayne had his feet up on top of the backrest of the other end of the booth's corner, his head close to the top of the cushion opposite with his hips square in the middle. The trim coyote was wearing his work uniform, which consisted of fairly cheap but soft fabrics, holding his work phone. The company provided such things because of the kind of business Wayne had found himself in.

The booth he was propped up in was a nook in the staff break room, across from a large cylinder that stood floor to ceiling with a rectangular panel in it that could slide away for access in and out, as well as a control panel set upon a pillar to the right of the hatch. The machine had been humming for the last few minutes, and the control panel's red light turned green. The hatch opened with a hiss, gushing white fog out into the break room like it had been full of boiling water and dry ice.

Out of the mist, a heavyset naked ram staggered into view. He groaned and rubbed the small of his back. "Ugh... I'm really gonna have to take up yoga if I keep getting clients shorter than me." He immediately walked over to his cubby and started sliding back into his uniform, before pocketing his own work phone.

Wayne glanced over. "Brad, I don't think yoga covers that sort of thing."

The ram, Brad, scowled. "There has to be some type that helps you contort."

The coyote shrugged and looked back at his work phone. It was the type that had all its storage in the cloud, just in case it couldn't be recovered.

The door into the breakroom opened, and there entered the scaled gut of their manager, barely grazing the sides of the frame. The manager himself, Mr. Boudreau, followed shortly after, tugging down on his red polo shirt to try to cover the venetian-blind scales across his belly. The alligator was fairly well liked by his employees at this branch of Fodders, but he had a habit of taking advantage of the staff discounts and the fact that if he partook at work he wouldn't have to pay the delivery fees.

"Hey, Boss, Boss's gut." Wayne addressed the gator's face, then his belly.

Mr. Boudreau cleared his throat with a fist at the end of his long muzzle, a light blush showing through the green of his scales. "Brad, you're good to go on break, since you just got back." He addressed the ram.

Brad nodded and headed over to the booth the coyote was sprawled across the back bench of.

The gator waddled his way that way as well, his tail swaying behind him as counterbalance to the jut of his gut in the front. At the booth, his belly grazed the top of the table as he leaned forward to address the reclined canine. "Guess what, Wayne?"

"Car servicing duty again?" Wayne sighed.

"Nope." Mr. Boudreau chuckled, causing his gut to bounce in place.

Brad was having trouble not looking at it, pretending he was on his phone.

Wayne looked up to meet the smiling face of his boss, confused.

The alligator leaned forward enough his navel pressed flat to the table, causing the whole thing to creak and lean to that side. He pointed with a thick clawed digit. "You, my canine friend, have a customer."

Eyebrows shooting up, the coyote sank down a bit, his back nearly flat to the bench's cushion. "Like... a pred...?"

"Yes, a pred." Mr. Boudreau leaned back upright, sending the table creaking as it returned to level. "You know, I don't think in my time managing here at Fodders I've seen an employee go this long without having one!"

Wayne sat upright, and glanced over at his coworker, a chubby guy, almost a butterball. Brad's wool was sheered close to his skin all year, his uniform clinging to his curves. The coyote idly gestured to his own body, which, apart from some snugness at the top of his chest, was not clung to at all by the fabric. "I can guess why."

The ram was still staring at the alligator's scaled midsection where it refused to be hidden by the paltry polo shirt.

"Well, someone decided you were incredible and edible. Your sides will be done in ten minutes. You should be ready by then." Mr. Boudreau nodded firmly, and swung around, his thick tail coming close to slapping into the table as well as it curved behind the wide reptile.

The coyote waited for the booth to be fully clear of his boss before he scooted his way out opposite of Brad, fidgeting a bit as he looked between his cubby and the tube across the room.

Brad chuckled. "Go in the grooming pod and don't worry about it."

Wayne nodded. "Right." Before going on shift they had to wash themselves. More than just their hands in their line of work of course. The coyote was well acquainted with the pod, having to use it when he arrived at work, after getting off break, and after servicing the delivery vehicles...

He stripped down by the pod, which was located in a nook between the tube and the booth, setting his uniform and work phone in a little compartment off to one side, where they'd be sterilized in ways that weren't safe for a whole anthro to go through.

Working in this industry meant you also got used to being nude around coworkers, obviously. Wayne tapped the machine's panel. It was the first time he hit the button "on delivery" instead of the button for simply "on shift" for it. He slipped in the hatch and settled into the restraints, closing his eyes and relaxing. Being washed by the grooming pod was oddly soothing to the coyote, as pressurized water jets worked through his fur.

He did notice however that the routine was different, going further than usual. He quivered as the jets travelled into some more intimate places than he was used to, a blush across his cheek, then he perked at a sharp feeling on his arm. It was gone before he could think, and the hot air of the drying cycle was rushing around him.

Wayne staggered out of the pod once it opened back out, his fur all fluffed up and obscuring the muscles he'd worked hard to define at the gym. He stroked down over his chest, looking over to Brad. "Okay, did it give me a shot?"

The ram perked. "Oh, yeah. Don't you remember that from orientation?"

The coyote blinked, and stared into the middle distance, trying to remember.

Brad sighed. "Get some pants on, fluff ball. Going on delivery we get a shot that makes it so we don't feel anything worse than discomfort. It's a prey protection thing. I keep forgetting you've never actually gone out on delivery."

Wayne's eyes widened. "Wait, I thought it was all soft swallowing...?"

The ram waved his blunt fingered hand. "It is. I've never had a bitey customer. But it's a precaution. Just in case." Brad turned back to his phone. "Anyway, if you haven't passed out by the time you start churning you'll be glad for the shot."

The coyote nearly tripped on his own pant leg at that. Fidgeting with his uniform, he got it back on. "Uh... how often do you get churned, Brad?"

"At least once a night, on duty." Brad replied, not even looking up from his phone. "It's not a big deal. Just a little disorienting sometimes; some lingering sensations after reconstitution."

The canine smoothed down his uniform and put his own phone in his pocket. "Am I presentable?"

"You're fine. Now go get your sides." Brad seemed a bit annoyed by now.

Wayne sighed and headed out of the break room into the kitchen.

As a mainly delivery restaurant, Fodders dedicated most of its floorplan to storage and the kitchen. There was a small dining room for private events, but it was mostly Mr. Boudreau who used that. Wayne wondered if the alligator would ever decide to call him in there, sometime. From what he understood it usually came with a bonus.

On the counter by the door leading out to the part of the parking lot the delivery vehicles were parked sat an array of thermal containers meant to keep the food inside warm. Judging from the same number written on a post-it note on each container, they were all for the same order.

As Wayne walked across the kitchen that way, he was blindsided by his boss.

The big gator somehow knew how to keep his footsteps from thudding even when casually walking around. He playfully slapped a post-it note onto Wayne's chest. "There we go. First delivery. Press the panic button if there's trouble, okay?"

Looking down at the post-it note, the coyote noted it had the same number as the array of food containers, and blushed. "Y-yeah, of course. It won't come to that, I'm sure."

"That's the spirit." Mr. Boudreau nodded, and his stomach made an empty blorp. "I probably should have had you myself so you'd be used to it before a customer ordered you..."

Wayne coughed awkwardly, looking away from the gator's exposed belly. "Too late for that now. Which car should I take?"

"Any except for three." The large reptile nodded, his thick neck creasing a bit beneath his jaw. "You reported the navigation system shorted out."

"Yes. Right." The coyote grasped the thermal bags of food and slipped out the door.

The choice was easy, as there were only two delivery cars currently parked, the others out on other deliveries.

Wayne tapped his thumb pad to the handle of car two's hatch, and with a click and a hiss, it opened. The canine carefully arranged the bags in the environmentally isolated back of the vehicle, before closing the hatch. Another tap of his thumb at the driver's side opened the door. He carefully slipped in, and sighed at how far back the seat was set. The coyote set his work phone in the dock on the dashboard and smooshed his index claw into the seat adjust control until he was a comfortable distance from the steering wheel. Driver's side door closed and seatbelt on prompted a new display on the phone.

The address of the customer he was serving tonight had come up, and a button to start route, with 'automated' and 'guided' as options. Wayne chose 'guided'. The vehicle's motor started up with a low hum and a whirr of rotating parts sliding against each other. The coyote sighed and set off, using the text-to-speech guidance to navigate. While the car could drive itself, he felt like he should be doing something instead of waiting to arrive after some AI driver transported him.