FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

(second part of a series. For the original, see here: http://www.furaffinity.net/view/27529212/) The sound of fellow freshmen chattering down the halls of my dorm echoed through my door. It was late night on a Tuesday, hardly the time to be partying, and yet like clockwork a horde of first years filtered out at 10pm, ready to drink all night and regret it the next day. Though the semester had only begun two weeks ago, it didn't take long for everyone to fall into their typical bad habits. I wasn't one of them. While I probably would have been better off than most of them, given my first Wednesday class was late in the evening, the bar and party scene just didn't appeal to me. Perhaps it was the lights, the sounds, the smells - whatever the reason, I found solace in my suitably dim room, curled up on my bed and listening to lo-fi beats while I read the night away. Usually I could find myself lost in the depths of a good story, lost to the world until my roommate stumbled in drunk at 2am. That was my sign to find a bookmark and get ready for the next day. Oddly enough, though, he hadn't come by after class to grab his booze and get ready for the festivities. It was odd enough to make me feel uneasy, but I did my best to brush the thought away and get back to reading. What concern of it was mine if he didn't have his alcohol for one night? We didn't exactly get along great, what with his side of the room quickly and seemingly perpetually looking like a pigsty, coupled with his refusal to clean; every second spent worrying about him was a real waste, all things considered. Still, the break in the pattern was certainly weird, and I found it difficult to really immerse myself in my book for more than a couple minutes at a time. There was a knock at the door. "Come in?" I said, laying the book down on my chest. The door swung open shortly after, and my RA, a fluffy dragon named Arthur, strolled on in, an empty box in tow and clearly jamming away to some tunes on his headphones. He turned around once inside, closing the door behind him. I guess he hadn't exactly heard me when coming in, as I got to see him jump as he finally caught sight of me. "OH! Victor! I'm sorry, I didn't think you'd be here right now," he said, pulling his headphones from his ears; his body was shaking a bit, likely recovering from the surprise. "But... I live here? Why wouldn't I be here?" I replied, sitting up. "I, uh... I thought you were going to Nate's house party tonight?" I gave him a look. "...No? I told you at orientation. I never go to those things, they're too loud." I pointed over to my roommate's side of the room. "I'm pretty sure that Philip's going though, he always does." Arthur's brows furrowed as he set the box down on the other side of the room. "Philip? No he isn't, those things are for university students." "...and he is one?" I responded, rather puzzled. Arthur shook his head. "He isn't. Didn't you hear? He got kicked out this morning." It took my head a second to process exactly what Arthur had just said. I blinked in confusion, swinging my legs over the side of the bed. My book fell to the ground, shutting, but I didn't care. "Wait, what? Philip is gone? As in, "gone from the school", gone?" He nodded, leaning back against the door. "Yeah man, you didn't hear about it? It's been all over campus." "Is that so?" I try to keep a straight face, resting my head on my hands, but I can feel the blush slowly creeping across my cheeks; the embarrassment slowly setting in. I know that I'm not exactly the most outgoing guy around, and I knew I was somewhat disconnected from campus life, but to be the last person to hear about my own roommate dropping out? It's a big blow to the self-esteem, for sure. Was I really that unpopular? To his credit, Arthur didn't tease me about my obvious blush. He just nodded again as he turned to start grabbing Philip's belongings. "Yeah, he made this huge scene as he left to go join some... sex... thing. It was... interesting. I dunno, I never really saw it in him." I could swear I saw the shadow of a grin pass over his face as he looked over to mention that. "Anyhow, university wanted me to come and pick up his stuff. Looks like you'll have the place to yourself for a while, lucky devil!" At that moment, my head had cleared a bit. It was only tangentially off-topic, but it was something to talk about. "Myself? I thought there was a student waiting list for housing?" I asked, my head resting against my hands. "Well, normally there would be, but considering were already well into the semester, those on the waiting list have either gone home, or they've found another place to stay." Arthur explained, packing Philip's dirty clothes into the box. "Ah, I see. Well, at least some other unfortunate soul won't have to deal with the remnants of Philip's unique odor, huh?" I joked, hoping to try and lift my spirits and try to lighten the somewhat sour mood. I thought he would say something, especially since Philip wasn't at all a paragon of cleanliness, but he simply gave a small chuckle and nod, before packing everything else he could away without issue. In spite of the situation, his tolerance to it all was amazing; no wonder he was our RA. "Okay, I think I got enough for this box. I'll probably be back sometime tomorrow to grab the rest." Arthur explained, before reaching into his bag. "Before I go though, here." An assortment of vibrantly colored fliers were placed down onto my bed. "What are these?" "Standard back-to-school flyers, boring events, conferences, clubs, all that good stuff. Groups come around all the time, so I've been making sure to pass them around to folks." My mind still dwelled on my missing roommate - former roommate - but perhaps Arthur was just being polite. I picked up the stack, giving the top paper a quick glance. It was an advertisement for some sort of talent show. "I gotcha, but why me? You know I'm not really interested in these things. It's just a waste of paper," I say, tossing them to the side. Arthur shrugged and straightened up, brushing off his shorts before opening the door. "I don't really think so," he said with a chuckle. "Schools do this all the time, and it never hurts to step out once in awhile. ESPECIALLY when one of your only social interactions just got kicked out. You never know; take a look through, you might find something that catches your eye." Before I could say anything back, Arthur had grabbed hold of the box and hoofed it out of there, the door shutting behind him with the flick of his tail. That last comment of his was clearly directed at me. I wasn't at all happy with it, but as much as I'd hate to admit, there was some truth to it. I took a deep breath, trying to calm my nerves a bit as I looked on at the stack of fliers. Maybe it might be a good thing to at least check, at least I could say I did something. Reaching over, I grabbed a small chunk and started to go through it one-by-one. Glee Club? Not happening. Academic Decathlon Volunteers Needed? Maybe some other time. Swim Team? Heard they're all dumb-as-brick jocks. Twisted Tail? Sounds like some Porno Shop. Slacklining lessons? Maybe that could be fu-- I doubled back for a second. "Twisted... Tail? The hell is this doing here?" I muttered, looking the flier over. Sure enough, it did look like something that wasn't exactly... 'university friendly'. Question is, why was it here? Did someone slip this in with the rest of the stack? Why would they take this flier to a University, though? On second thought, it would certainly make sense in the right context. Maybe the place wasn't seeing that much business. Advertise to a college town, get some fresh faces, try to bump up the image. Yeah, that makes sense. I shrugged, quickly shunting it over to the side. Intriguing marketing strategy or not, I wasn't about to spend my night at some desolate bar. I have class tomorrow, and my time would be much better spent preparing for that! Besides, like Arthur said, everyone was over at that House Party. If there was anything going on, it certainly wouldn't be there. Yeah, that bar would probably be a ghost town right now. Empty, devoid of customers, quiet in comparison to other places. ... ... I wonder what's in the rest of the stack of fliers. Might be something good. ... ... ... ... Well, since my Roomie is gone, I guess I can put that to rest and get back to my book. What page was I on again? ... ... ... ... ... ... I sighed, the entirety of my existence unable to fathom what I was about to do. I quickly got up from my bed, hastily throwing on some jeans and a light jacket, covering myself up as much as possible. If I was doing this, I was at least going to make sure no one could recognize me. Phone, Wallet, Keys, and the flier all hastily tucked into my pockets. Before long, I was out the door and well on my way, unable to take that bar out of my mind. On my way out, I passed by Arthur's room; RA's always got the luxury of the corner dorm room. The door was cracked open, probably Arthur was out and about so much he just left it like that. I only had taken a passing glance, but I could have sworn it looked like he was frantically rummaging through some box. Was he...? Nah, just my imagination.

____

I studied the building in front of me long and hard, then glanced back down at the flyer crumpled in my pocket. There was an obvious disconnect between the colorful, well-kept building on the paper and the sagging wood shack that I saw before me-- evidently, the Twisted Tail had seen its better days. The building on the paper was recently painted with full, bright windows and a nice parking lot, while the one in front of me was faded, brown, and seemed to sag with the weight of the sin that certainly happened inside of it. Half the windows were boarded up on the first floor, and the cracked and grassy parking lot had piles of broken glass in it. Not exactly an encouraging sight. This place was run down even for the troubled part of the city I had found myself in, and had I any sense at all, I would have turned tail and ran back to my dorm. Perhaps I should have. I wanted to. Perhaps it was the young cockiness that came from being a college freshman, new and ready to take on the world, or perhaps it was something more out of my control. Regardless, I took a deep breath, stuffed the flyer back in my pocket, and opened the door. A wave of scent and sound met me, nearly pushing me out. The sour stenches of beer, sweat, piss, and worse all mixed together to create something uniquely gay, something that repulsed me, but at the same time, I could feel my cock twitching in my pants. Against my better judgement, I shut the door behind me and looked around, trying to adjust to the dark room. I couldn't have been more wrong about this place being "empty". Through the dim lighting I could see muscular and chubby men alike crowding at the bar, and the tender working them all like a con man - overcharging here, refilling drinks without being told, milking dollar after dollar out of them. They didn't seem to mind, though. There was no doubt in my mind that had one of them made a fuss, he'd have been tossed out with not a second's hesitation. Aside from their getup - leather, chaps, and harnesses - the group at the bar seemed to act somewhat normal. The people in the booths, however? Well, it was too dark to tell, but from the noises coming out of them, they were certainly engaging in activity that would get them arrested anywhere else. Along the aisles, men of all species dressed in hoods and collars sat or laid by their master's feet, some actively nuzzling and slurping at them, but most content simply to be allowed to be there at all. No one seemed to take notice of me, though in my completely covered state, I certainly stuck out like a sore thumb. In most bars this would have been a good thing, but here, it felt like an insult, a slight. Like, why weren't they paying attention to me? I stood out, did no one think I was worth even a glance out the corner of his eye? A strange part of me craved their attention... and that made me uneasy. What was I even doing here? Just because someone left a flyer to advertise doesn't mean I have to actually come here. Hell, I thought this was a regular joint, not some gay bar! I'm not even into kink scenes! I'm too new for this, I'm too preppy, too clean cut to be going to seedy gay bars, to be surrounded by piss and cigars and harnesses and I should have left the second I saw the rundown dump from the outside. I should just turn around right now and take my leave. And I might have, had not something in the far back caught my eye. As soon as I looked it was gone, but after a few moments it came back again; it was the outline of someone's form. A jackal? My heart began to race, though I knew not why. It was definitely a jackal... and he looked more and more familiar the longer I looked. A family member...? No, but something to do with family. A family friend? The longer I thought about it, the fuzzier my brain felt. As I pondered it, he ducked through a doorway and disappeared. Immediately I began to push through the crowd, forcing my way past curious pet-people and grunting, frowning daddies with huge bellies, further and further into this sea of depravity, and all the while I told myself to go back. If it were a family friend, why should I seek him out? I should let his personal life be his own, don't out him, even to myself. And yet I finally pushed through the crowd into the backrooms, looking around desperately. ...nothing. Wherever he was, it was no longer in this room. My shoulders sagged, and I flopped down on an empty chair, looking around forlorn. What was I even doing here? Did some desperate part of me think that maybe, just maybe going to weird-ass fetish bars would help me get out of my comfort zone? With Philip gone, I did need to do something before I isolated myself even more, but there were choices better than this. I'm not even gay, so why would I go to a gay bar? God, if someone from college saw me now, I might die. One small upside to this whole misadventure was that, though the bar was busy, I'd seen absolutely no college-aged boys here. Maybe that was the reason they'd sent the flyer to my uni? Perhaps I could have a word with the management or something, give them advice on how to actually attract college kids. That, however, would be a task for a different day. For now, I was beginning to feel the first hints of exhaustion nipping at my mind, and the lure of my toasty bed and a nice, long book was a siren calling me. I stood up, took one last look around the room, and made my way towards the exit, ready to be done with this nasty place forever. And then I tripped. No, tripped would be too soft a word. My foot caught someone's ankle as they crawled into the room, and I was sent sprawling across the floor, slamming my nose into the grimy baseboard. A surprisingly animalistic yawlp of surprise and pain accompanied my own. I clambered to my feet, cursing and holding my nose, trying to stumble my way towards the exit, and instead ran into what could only be described as a giant slab of muscle masquerading as a bear. I stumbled back a few feet, still a bit woozy. "Sorry, sir," I murmured, "still a bit disoriented. I-I'm heading out." "No you're not," came the rumbling reply. I froze, his words triggering something deep inside me. "S-Sir?" Why the hell was I calling him sir? "I said, you're not leaving. Not yet." Rough, calloused fingers gripped my chin and forced me to look up at the bear. He was a nasty fucker alright, the type that made you cross the street even in broad daylight. Aside from a leather jock and harness, there was nothing to hide his meaty pecs and muscle gut; I should have been terrified, but instead I felt like a scolded child. I couldn't even meet his eyes. "W-What do you mean, sir? I need to go." My voice sounded weak and shaky, even to myself. "You have to apologize," he growled. "But I-!" "Not to me, cub! To the poor pup you tripped over." My ears flattened against my skull, and I squirmed in his grip. Why hadn't I thought to apologize? "Fuck, I was rude. I'm sorry sir, I'll go and do it now. Then I'll leave." He didn't respond at first, and every second of silence made me more and more uncomfortable. There was no fear in me that he'd hurt me or anything like that... I was more afraid that I'd disappointed him. What was wrong with me? I wasn't even this way with my own parents, why did some dumb slab of meat in a seedy bar deserve my submission? Finally, he responded. "Look into my eyes, cub." It was difficult, but slowly I managed to force my eyes to look into his, deep into its brown depths. Once they met, I couldn't tear them away. It felt like they were looking through me, seeing me as some sort of object, not a person. Like I was a thing. It felt like an eternity, but eventually he nodded. "Good," he said, and he let me go. Immediately I stepped back and stared down at my feet, feeling the first hints of a blush on my cheeks. "Good," he said again. "You'll do just fine here." Before I could ask him what he meant, he snapped his fingers and I jumped to attention. "You'll go to the pup, apologize him, and fuck off. Understood?" I nodded. "Good. You'll find him in the corner." And with that he was gone, leaving me as casually as if we'd simply been chatting about the weather. Once he was out of sight I relaxed my posture, feeling mentally drained from the encounter. That had been the most intense social interaction I'd had in years, and it wasn't one I wanted to repeat. That feeling of being subservient, inferior, it was one that I never wanted to experience again. The half-chub in my pants said otherwise, but ignoring my sexuality was generally a good idea. Horny boys did stupid things. In any case, all I had to do was apologize to the pup I tripped over, and I could get out and forget any of this happened. It didn't take long to find him; the room had emptied out when the bear came in, all except a few men on the couch and a single hunched figure cowering in the corner of the room. Cowering? Had I hurt him? Concern filled me, and I approached carefully, crouching down to make myself seem less intimidating. "Here, pup, don't worry. I'm sorry about tripping over you, I didn't mean it! Are you okay, do you need help, puppy?" It occurred to me I was treating this person as if he were an actual feral animal... hell, I felt guilty for tripping over him as I would for tripping over a real puppy. Was the pup feeling now how I felt with the bear? Was my short experience what a pup felt whenever he was in headspace? I could see the appeal. Every step I took, he cowered more and more into the corner. "Come on pup, I won't hurt you!" I insisted. A certain amount of indignation burned in my chest. I hadn't really hurt him that bad! Who was he to cower from me? He would see that I meant no harm, or I would make him see! Slowly, but firmly, I laid my hand on his shoulder. "Pup," I said with no small amount of impatience. "You're being ridiculous. Now turn around, so I can apologize and leave." The pup turned around, whimpering and covering his face with his paws. The impatience in me grew, and I reached forward, tossing his hands out of the way. "Pup, I-" My words died in my throat as I looked at the pup crouched down in front of me. Something about him was familiar, too familiar. Familiar in the same way that jackal from earlier was familiar, and making my mind fuzzy in the exact same way. He was nearly naked, wearing only a jock, a hood and a collar, but even that exposed I didn't quite recognize him. That mask hid too many of his features. The ways of gay fetish culture were foreign to me, but even I could work out that removing a pup's hood would be seen as rude at the very least. I desperately searched my memory for something, anything that might have given me an answer, but I came up empty each time. Everything about him was so familiar, so familial, from the way that he sounded even to the way that he moved, the way he cowered away from me, that look of shame in his eyes. That look of shame in his eyes. Something inside me made the connection, but I didn't consciously realize until my eyes settled on his collar. Namely, the pink tag dangling from it. 'Darling Pup Benny'. Pup Benny. Ben. Benson. Uncle Benson. I fell back on my ass as the fog cleared and the realization stabbed at me like ice, my chest tightening and heart racing. Uncle Benson, the family's prodigal son. Uncle Benson, the one who no one would talk about. Who was gone for so long, who came back for one day only to be dragged out on all fours, barking and whining, by some black-furred jackal. Slowly, unsteadily, I forced myself onto my feet. "I..." A step back. What would Mom say if she knew I found him? "I... I'm sorry, I..." Should I do something? Was he here against his will? "I'm sorry, I, I shouldn't have..." Shouldn't have what? Or should have I tried to stop him from leaving? Another step back. I shouldn't be here. I need to go, I need to go and never tell anyone what I found, and never come back. That final scene replayed in my mind again and again, after Uncle Benson had shamed himself in front of the entire family. I could have just watched that jackal walk him out like a dog, just like everyone else. But I didn't. "I-I..." I didn't watch him go. I called out for the jackal to stop, and he did. I walked up to my humiliated uncle, and I pet him like he was a feral dog, a dumb animal. And that jackal looked at me, stared at me like that bear did today. And then they left my life forever. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, I-I... I have to go." Uncle Benson let out a low whine, and I paused. I took one more step back - right into someone's chest. A deep, familiar scent surrounded me, at once terrifying and comforting. I could hear his heartbeat, feel it as I stood there, rooted to the ground. His arms came down around me, gently but firmly holding me there. Jet black fur. Just like the jackal I saw earlier. Just like... "And who do we have here, Benny? What little treat have you brought to me today?" Those dulcet tones confirmed it for me; if the Pup Benny was my long lost uncle, then this force of nature towering behind me was the jackal who had taken him from us. The dog in front of me didn't answer, of course; he was just a dog. The jackal's hands went to my shoulders, spinning me to face him. "And who are you, little guy?" His eyes searched me, holding that same spark of confused recognition that mine had no doubt held just moments before. He was only inches taller than me, yet it felt like he soared over me. I felt insignificant next to him. When I had seen him last he was dressed in a suit in tie; here, he wore a harness nearly blended into his black fur, and leather chaps that let his ass and package hang out free. He was at half-chub, a dollop of pre dangling off his swollen sheath. He was toned, not muscular, but the harness accentuated his pecs so that they seemed absolutely massive; barbells skewered through meaty pink nipples only exaggerated the effect further. His face was as charming yet devilish as ever, still missing that one fang in a mouth that seemed to have all too many sharp, white teeth. I realized I had been staring him down for far too long, and cleared my throat, shifting uncomfortably. "I-I was uh, I tripped over your pup there on my way out, a-and I was just leaving. No harm done." I couldn't meet his eyes; I told myself it was so he couldn't recognize me, but I knew the truth. "Is that so, pup?" I flinched; why did his words make my heart race and my sheath swell? He let that hang in the air for a long while, and when it became clear I could do little more than stare at my feet, he continued on. "It seems to me you're new around here. We don't usually attract boys your age, anyways. How'd you hear about us, hmn?" He crouched down so we were eye level; somehow, that made me feel smaller. "I, uh... I saw a flyer, my RA gave it to me. A-And so I thought I'd come and... and check the place out." I looked up and flinched again at his intense gaze, searching me, and felt as if I hadn't said enough. "I-I'm not even gay, you know? J-Just, I just thought it would be interesting, you know, to check it out, since... since a gay bar wouldn't usually advertise to the college, and the college wouldn't accept it, and..." I trailed off, suddenly aware I was just blabbing on. A quick glance up told me he still seemed unsatisfied. Finally he spoke. "You seem awful gay to me. Cute little thing coming here, 'just to check it out'? Straight men don't do that." He paused, and stared me down. I did my best to not react. "So you came because of the flyer, huh? I bet you know Arthur, don't you?" Another pause; I could feel his eyes on me. "Hmnn... how about Philip?" My eyes widened and I let out an involuntary gasp, looking up at him briefly before shutting myself down again. His predatory smile made me shiver; I knew he was doing it, though I refused to look. The jackal straightened up, chuckling to himself. "That's what I thought. He's really enjoying his new life, or so I heard. But that's not why you're here, is it? That's why you came here, but not why you're in this room." He slowly looked over at his pup - my uncle - shivering and cowering in the corner, and then back to me. "Do you know my pup?" Once again I refused to react, staring hard at the ground. "I said... do you know my pup?" The steel in his words made me shiver, but I refused to let myself react. "You do know my pup! Let's see... too old to be a friend, maybe a family friend?" I stiffened a bit. "Oh, a reaction! How kind of you to finally give me one. He's not a family friend though, but I'm getting close, aren't I?" A brief pause as he cupped his chin, considering. "Not a family friend, but something like that. Not a boss, or a coworker - Benny here hasn't worked in ages, probably since you were real young," he said. I bit my lip to keep myself from saying it; I thought I was subtle enough to hide it, but he caught on nonetheless. "There, that's something. I can work with that. You knew my pup, but it must have been ages ago, when you were very young, say, preteen, maybe teenage at most. You can't be close now, but you were once close enough to make you react the way that you did - don't think I didn't see you stutter and tremble like a little bitch. It was cute, really. So if you were young... was he... are you..?" Comprehension dawned, and he took a step back, eyes wide. Fear burst in my chest and I took my chance, dashing off before he could say a word to me. My heart raced and adrenaline pumped as I rushed through the bar, dodging bears and pups and who knows what else, imagining I could hear the heavy thuds of his footfalls close behind me. I threw myself out the door, pausing for a moment on the wood porch to orient myself; after finding my escape route I dashed off again, only for my foot to catch a warped wooden plank and send me sprawling over the railing into a small snowbank that had built up next to the stairs. Cold ice tore at my fur and scraped my body, but I pushed through it, spinning around to face my assailant, teeth bared and ready to fight for my life. But no one was there. My heart slowly returned to normal, a quiet tiredness settling over me as my adrenaline wore off. No one was there. He hadn't followed. Why would he follow? And why had I thought he did? It felt like I was running for my life, but in reality, there was no danger at all. The minutes passed slowly as I lay in that bank, grateful for the gritty ice as it cooled my flushed body. Eventually I staggered to my feet, every limb leaden. Light scrapes from the snowbank, once dulled from the cold and the adrenaline, began to sting, and my twisted ankle protested under the weight of my body. I let out a sigh. It would be a long, limping walk home. As I turned to get started, I felt something odd in my back pocket - I reached my hand in there, fishing around a moment before pulling out a thin, black collar with a blank tag attached. It was a simple leather band with a belt-buckle hook, and attached to that buckle was a note. 'See you next week. Wear this collar. -- Lynch' I grimaced, holding the collar far away from me like it was a cumrag. "Why the hell would I come back here?" I said under my breath, shaking my head. "The guy's a lunatic if he thinks I'm ever going to associate with him. After tonight, there's no way I'm ever, ever coming back here." I believed my words entirely... and yet I put both the collar and the note back into my pocket before zipping up my coat and beginning the long walk back home.