FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

I try not to yawn and fail miserably.

Monday evenings are easily the most boring shift I've ever worked and somehow it always ends up assigned to me. It's not too surprising - I'm still young and inexperienced enough that the other librarian, Mr Hodge, can get the best shifts. Besides, the old porcupine knows everyone that's worked here in the past fifty years. As far as social relationships go, unfortunately, I'm at a disadvantage.

But it doesn't matter, really. The job pays well and I like the place. It isn't the biggest library in town, but it's also not the biggest town in the country. And there is a certain charm to those old bookshelves that were probably bought during the 80s, and the fact that our collection is so easy to manage. A bigger library would mean more facilities, but also more trouble. And I might have to share my shift with another person. Yikes.

I feel another yawn creeping up my body and I give in. I'm sleepy and bored today.

As much as I enjoy my little quiet solitude, it's difficult to stay focused when nothing is happening. Two of our only four regular visitors have already left - both of them usually stay here for an hour on Saturdays when I'm around. The other two won't arrive until the last opening hours... which should be soon. Of course, it isn't uncommon to see new faces from time to time, but right now there's only one lady that I don't recognize and if I'm not mistaken she's going through a manual on Venus flytraps. She's been at it for an hour now.

I never really visited the library as a student. I guess I'm one of these people that learn to admire the place from a distance. Now that I'm working here, I can tell that the place is less mysterious and sophisticated that I'd been led to believe, but just as boring as some people insist it is. Working these terrible shifts doesn't help, either.

Oh, here it comes. There's another yawn waiting to jump on the stage. I try to fight it, but it wins again, of course. This one's a long, silent yawn - the kind of yawn that makes your jaw hurt just a bit, the kind of yawn you could get lost into. By the time I'm finished, I had to rub one of my eyes to clear my vision.

"Feeling sleepy, huh?" a voice asks, surprisingly close.

My blurred vision greets me with the vision of a tall hyena standing in front of me. He's bending over the counter, his elbows casually resting on the wooden surface as he stares at me with an amused grin.

I cough in surprise, a bit embarrassed. For how long has he been there?

"Uh, sorry! I wasn't expecting anyone to come. Can I help you, sir?"

I realize my mistake just as the last word leaves my lips. Sir? Sir!? For God's sake, he doesn't look that old. Fortunately, he doesn't seem offended by it.

"I'm pretty sure you can," he says. That's confident. "That is, if you can help me find a book. Is that a thing you do?"

Is he joking? I think he's joking, but the question sounds genuine. I try to smile.

"Yes. I'm a librarian. That's what I'm here for."

I let out my signature awkward chuckle. The hyena's smile widens and his big paws go down to the counter, his finger drumming rhythmically on it.

"Good! Yeah, that's great." One of his paws leaves the counter and moves to the back of his head, giving his chocolate-colored fur a slow scratch. He looks embarrassed for a second and I wait. "I don't really know the title of the book I'm looking for, though. I must have... forgotten?"

"Ah. Don't worry. It happens a lot," I reassure him.

I'm not lying - it does happen a lot. If I were paid a dollar for every time it happens... well, I guess I'd have a few more videogames. However, trying to calm him down when I'm feeling so excited feels slightly hypocritical. I can feel my heart beating fast and my short nub of a tail wagging back and forth like crazy. What am I doing? This is definitely not the professional behavior I'm supposed to receive customers with.

Well, what can I say? I can't help it. I've always had a soft spot for hyenas.

"Do you remember the author?" I ask, trying to be helpful.

"Uuuuh. Nope. To be honest, I've never seen the book. Er, can I look for a book I don't know? Is that allowed?" His smile if getting more bashful by the minute. It's cute, in a way.

"If you're looking for a specific topic then yes, I can help you find books about it."

I've worked as a librarian long enough to know that this is his first time here. That thought makes me a bit happier - it balances things a bit. My confused visitor's visible embarrassment is probably comparable to my own flustered feelings after being addressed by... well, such a handsome guy. It means none of us is at a disadvantage, which makes me feel a bit more relaxed.

Gosh, and he looks so disoriented. He's scratching the back of his head again, trying to come up with the right question.

I think I should help him.

"What is it about? What do you want to find?"

"Oh. Oh! Yeah. Hyenas." He seems curious now. "Is it weird? I mean, wanting to search about my own species."

"People do that a lot," I admit. Mostly for planning diets or exercise routines, but it's not like you need that, my friend, I think to myself.

"So I'm not the first one then," the hyena realizes, his sheepish smile slowly turning into an amused smirk again. "Good."

I nod and hold the hyena's gaze for a second, only to realize it's my turn to do something. I start by typing the word "hyena" in the library's search engine. Including more tags would have probably narrowed the search, but of course I only realize that when the message "461 results found" appears on screen.

"I don't know. 'Myths'?" the hyena answers after I ask if there are any other specific words he would add to the search.

4 results found. Now we're talking.

I open them on separate tabs - fortunately, the library's system allows me to do that - and check their files. My eyes go over the publication dates, authors, publishing houses, call numbers and other data.

"One of them is available for room consultation," I announce proudly. "That means you can read it here."

The hyena seems pleased, but not particularly surprised. I am, though. These specific books aren't usually found in our smaller district library and more often than not I've had to redirect people to the bigger, central building.

"You won't be able to take it home," I insist. I need to make sure he understands it.

"Don't worry. I don't think that'll be necessary."

Again, he sounds rather confident, so I don't insist. I glance at the book's call number and stand up with a sigh - my body feels a bit sore after sitting for such a long time. A part of me wants to thank the unexpected visitor for making me move, even if it probably wasn't his intention.

"Oh, the name's Devon. In case you need one," the hyena mentions as I walk around the counter. "Nice to meet you, Robin."

"Nice to... Wait. How did you know... Oh." I'm stupid. I've been wearing a nametag on my white shirt for the last four month, but this has been the first time someone has actually noticed it's there.

He gives me a wolfish smile, as if he enjoys having caught me off guard. Damn, he's taller than I expected. I feel small all of a sudden, and rather...

No. I shouldn't think that way about a visitor.

"I don't need your name, but it's always nice to know," I say, feeling immediately like I'm flirting with him. That's embarrassing, but at least I managed to regain my composure. "Follow me. I'll take you to your book."

We move through the shelves, walking past carnivorous-plant-loving lady. This is an old building, so its layout is a bit odd. Devon's book is in a rather hidden turn of the library, so I would have probably needed to guide him anyway. The silence between us is slightly awkward after our conversation, but I'm used to it. It happens with most visitors after they've told me what they want.

We finally get there and it only takes me a split second to find the book in its shelf. It seems like an old copy of one of those books they usually give away with newspapers. I weigh it in one hand and then offer it to Devon, expecting him to take it and find an empty seat at an empty table.

Instead, he looks back at me sheepishly and his ears fall flat against his head.

"Uh... there's something else I need to ask you."

I wait. It's taking him a bit to find the words. I wonder if there's something wrong.

"Can you read it for me?" he asks shyly after a few seconds. "I... er, I can't."

"Oh. Oh." I wasn't expecting this. I take a glance at the book, then look back at him. This is a specific enough request that I should at least consider it for a second, but I can't help but agree in an instant. "Sure! Just let me do one thing. I'll be right back."

As I walk towards my counter, I wonder if I should have turned down his request. I didn't only accept because he's really handsome, did I? I probably did. In any case, I tell myself, the main reason why public libraries exist is to make knowledge and information available to everyone. It's like our motto, basically. Why would I turn down his offer? It would have been rude, and probably a violation of my contract, somehow.

That's what I tell myself as I place the 'be right back' sign on the counter and head back to Devon, but once I'm again in front of that tall hyena wearing a tank top and looking down at me with that half-apologetic, half-amused grin I'm not so sure anymore. As he towers over me, I realize just how visible his arms and chest are. Blood's rushing to my cheeks and maybe to some other places. He hasn't moved to the section of the library where all the tables and chairs are. Does he expect me to stand as I read?

We're very alone in this section.

Again, I hope he doesn't notice my nervousness.

"So," I clear my throat as he hands me the book again. "I'll have to check the counter from time to time just to know if someone needs me, but other than that, I'm all yours."

Did I really have to phrase it that way?

"I like the sound of that," he says, however. His grin leans away from apology and embraces cockiness now. Of course he's noticed. "Fortunately for us, it seems this library isn't very busy. Is it like that everywhere?"

"Kinda." I keep my answer vague. Did he say 'for us'? "So what exactly do you want to find out? I bet you don't want me to read the whole book, do you?"

"Er, we'll see! For now, we can just start with the first pages. Maybe there's something there that rings a bell."

I nod. Starting from the beginning sounds like a reasonable thing to do, although we're both standing between shelves, which isn't reasonable at all. It doesn't look like Devon plans to move to the section designed specifically for reading, so I decide not to care about it. He's still new to this place, so maybe he doesn't know we're supposed to go there.

But that's a remote possibility, I suppose.

I open the book and start reading aloud.

"Hyenas: between myth and reality."

That's the title. Bold of the author, I'd say.

"For centuries, hyenas have intrigued individuals from other species. Due to their appearance and behavior, they've been wrongly assumed to belong to the canidae family. However, they're phylogenetically closer to felidae and viverridae. This is just one of the many fascinating facts about hyenas."

Did a hyena write this book?

"But those are plain biological facts, which everyone can know after a quick search on the internet. The goal of this book is to cover some of the most interesting myths regarding our hyena friends, which happen to be a very recurring species in several traditions all over the world. Whether this is a coincidence or not, it's hard to tell. Maybe hyenas are simply that alluring to the collective worldview."

I look up from the book, just to check if Devon is following me. He's looking at me, arms crossed on his chest, as his tail slowly wags behind him.

"Go on," he says, noticing I stopped. I have the stupid feeling he's waiting for the punchline of a joke I still don't understand.

I choose to do as he says. A part of me is really flustered, but I don't know if that means I want to stay like this or get this over with as fast as I can. Fortunately, keeping my attention on the book prevents me from embarrassing myself much further. My voice sounds clear and loud as I start reading again.

"One of the most extended myths regarding hyenas depicts them as naturally hermaphrodite entities. This is a vision that has sometimes permeated into literature and film, although there is no evidence for that assertion and much evidence against it. It is a fact that there are both male and female hyenas, as well as non-binary hyenas, but none of them are born as hermaphrodites in the way popular belief often claims."

The hyena standing right in front of me definitely looks like a male. He winks an eye at me, maybe guessing what I'm thinking.

"In other legends, hyenas are spirits of savage wickedness incarnate. As such, they're often the protagonists of sinister tales in obscure lore. They're said to accompany witches or play an important role in their incantations. In some rural areas, people believe hyenas are prone to robbing graves, although this has proven to be based on harmful stereotypes and, as some activists have pointed out, just another part of the cruel narrative hyenas have been subjected to throughout their whole lives."

I look up again. Devon's smirk is slightly wider. I wonder why - it's not like I was just talking about a particularly fun topic.

"If there's a myth that has been proven to be right, however, is hyenas' ability to manipulate people's spirits. Of course, nowadays we know there's no such thing as spirit manipulation. Instead, the skill that most hyenas seem to develop throughout their teenage years consists of a powerful hypnotic gaze, capable of rendering anyone helpless to their..."

My lip twitches a bit. I stop reading and look up, not feeling quite so sure right now. Devon is scratching his chin, seemingly deep in thought.

"... command," I whisper.

His face brightens. Literally and figuratively. Then I hear him speak.

"Oh, of course. That was it."

I...

Huh. I was looking at something. I'm just not sure what I was looking at, and every time I seem to realize what it was, it feels as if it's drifting away from my grasp. Just like water trickling down my fingertips, my thoughts seem to wander and never stop in the answer I'm supposed to find. And yet, it feels as if it has always been there, just constantly hidden at plain sight, like a chameleon or a pair of glasses you can't find in your messy room.

Whatever it is, it's changed color from the very first time I've seen it. No, it has always been like that. No - it has definitely been changing color. It's pulsing. Now it's getting closer. It's...

"My eyes. That's right," Devon says.

I don't know if he's talking to me or himself. I couldn't care less.

My mind keeps trying to find the right answer. He's just said it, but it must have slipped my mind, and now I'm trying to recall, searching the same places all over again with no success. At some point, it feels as if something loosened its grip around my head, and I realize I've dropped the book. The floor is carpeted, so it's made no noise at all. What was I reading?

"About hyenas," he answers. I hadn't realized until now that I have asked that last question out loud, in a slow, slurred, soft voice. "About our hypnotic gaze."

Hypnotic... gaze?

"Yes. About how it can render anyone helpless."

Am I... am I being rendered helpless? Devon's smirk gets sharper, but he doesn't answer.

Oh god. His eyes are glowing. When did they start glowing? I have a feeling I must have realized earlier, but I forgot. Or maybe I'm seeing it now for the first time. Or maybe what I'm seeing for the first time is the fact that he has cornered me against the bookshelf and I'm holding my breath as he places one paw right over my shoulder so it feels like I'm trapped and he's... so close. His eyes are so close. When did they get so close?

I must be hallucinating. I can't even tell what color they are. Or they keep changing, but I forget what the previous color was.

"You're so cute when you're trying to think," I hear him say. I know he's not teasing me. He means it. His hot breath caresses my cheek and I shiver.

He's wrong. I'm not trying to think. I'm - I don't know what I'm doing. My knees have never felt weaker and I feel as if I'm about to sink to the floor. My forehead is throbbing, throbbing, I think, as if someone is wiring cables inside.

"I bet you'd look even cuter all limp and heavy, don't you agree?" he asks, winking one of those impossible eyes.

His gaze glows brighter and I melt. It feels like melting, at least. My knees give in and I'm about to fall to the floor but something catches my slack body mid-air. I feel like I'm hanging for a few seconds, weightless, floating, until he places me down on the soft carpet, and suddenly I'm the heaviest object in the universe, gravity pulling me towards the center of the Earth like an irresistible magnet. He could stomp on me and I'd barely feel it - but something else is already stomping on me, an invisible force crushing something deep within, and it's shattering like glass.

I black out.

Just for a moment. When I come back to myself, he's lying on top of me and those eyes pull me up, up, but not all the way up. There's a firm paw on my chest and it's moving down, down, all the way down until it reaches my waistband, a curious claw poking through and caressing a sensitive spot of skin. I shiver again, and I shiver again when I understand what he's going to do, and his finger slips deeper into my pants and caresses my underwear almost tenderly. I'm being so very conscious of everything that's going on now it's almost painful. It's like feeling in HD.

I want to complain. Not in the library, I try to say, where everyone's supposed to remain silent. Not in the library - but the words never reach my throat, placated by his suffocating gaze. My tongue's as heavy as lead.

"Yes...?" he asks, as if to mock me. The finger underneath my tented pants teases me just as much as that single word does.

I can't speak. A part of me doesn't want to. A part of me probably wanted this ever since he surprised me on the counter and asked for help. A part of me wanted to surrender even before his eyes began glowing - and the rest of me quickly followed under the firm grip of his pulsing eyes. My leg's twitching and I squirm.

I know I'm going to surrender. There's no way I can fight it.

"That's what I thought..." he whispers. I can tell he's very close now.

He kisses me. It's a long, wet, passionate kiss that leaves the corners of my mouth covered in warm slobber, or at least that's what it feels like. My mind has a few seconds to readjust before he opens his eyes again, and then it's like plunging into a pool of nothingness before I seem to get my head out of it again, gasping for fresh air.

There's fingers caressing my erection now, although I'm not sure when I got an erection to begin with. He's smirking as usual and I find him so absurdly hot, and his fingertips feel so good that I just want to moan out loud, but I mustn't. There must be silence in the library, I think, and also I must obey the hyena and remain silent.

The carpet feels so warm and soft and my right leg is twitching like crazy and he seems to like it. I know he does because his big paw firmly pushes my knee onto the floor and then his eyes sparkle once again and my whole body grows limp, heavy - motionless. I feel the pleasure, going up and down my spine like electricity, but my brain connections seem to be severed and my body just won't move. It's gone, lost like the thing I was staring at before that I can't recall, and I just know it doesn't belong to me anymore. It's his to do as he wishes, and by now I don't know if I think that because he wants me to think it or because I want to think that he wants me to think it. No matter how hard I try, I don't know.

I don't know anything. My body might belong to him, and my mind might belong to him - and the orgasm crawling up my body like a poisonous spider definitely will belong to him. This last thing I'm sure he made me believe and I believe it gladly.

But my hard cock is so wet I must have been pre-cumming a lot while I was swirling in the bliss. His paw moves expertly up and down and my mind shivers and squirm at the touch, in place of my body and I can feel myself just about to reach the edge. Then he slows down and his eyes do another thing I can't understand, and I grow fuzzy heavy warm sleepy drowsy tired dropping..........

.......... and then he's jerking me off faster again, and I think my body can move on its own but I have no idea. Pleasure pierces through the heavy haze but it catches my mind off-guard and it has no time to react. Am I cumming? I think I am.

"Good boy," he whispers and those two words pour over me like a waterfall.

Climax makes me squirm one last time, his eyes glow so bright that my brain feels like it's burning and I cum and cum and cum, an orgasm longer and more intense than any other I've ever experienced. My eyes roll up and the library fades. For a few glorious seconds, I want to whisper his name and cherish it. I want to praise him and worship him and let him do whatever he wants with me as long as he makes me feel this good. I want to be his just for as much as he feels like.

Then, as pleasure lazily recedes, I feel exhaustion taking over my mind and I black out - this time for good.

Four yawns are way too many yawns. If anyone notices how sleepy I am, I might get into trouble. Well, probably not, but it makes me a bit self-conscious.

It's not like there's anyone in the library right now, though. Venus-flytrap-lady must have left when I was dozing off. At least I don't remember her leaving the room, but that happens to me constantly. I feel a bit guilty for some reason and I stare at that feeling for a brief second, trying to understand why.

I think I feel something else, too.

The chair creaks as I stand up and walk a few steps, trying to wake up a bit. My body feels... soft, for some reason. The kind of sensation you get from a warm shower after a very long day, or as you wake up from a very nice nap. It's a kind of mental weakness that somehow affects my body instead. I'm about to let out a fifth yawn, but this time I stop myself.

Yeah - I probably have fallen asleep. Wonder what I dreamt.

I walk back to my counter and only then notice there's a piece of paper under my 'be right back' sign. A shiver goes down my spine, as if somehow I can tell what it is before reading. I know a part of me does. I think I've figured it out.

I still sit down and read the note, and feel my cheeks flush red as I do.

"Dear Robin,

Hey! So... uh, I don't know what to say. I don't usually

write notes like these. Damn, I don't even know how to write. I had

to hypnotize someone into writing this for you. A very friendly marten.

He's cute! Might fuck him later, if he feels like it. I hope you

enjoyed that, by the way. I know I did.

In fact, I enjoyed it more than I usually do. You see, from time

to time I get this impulse to show off, and you happened to be close

today. Sorry! It's on you for being so cute. Plus, I think

I gave you a good time. What do you think? I'd like to know. Would you

like to tell me? I'd love you to tell me. Er, sorry. As I said, I don't

know how to do this. Asking people out and notes, I mean.

Also, this guy's drooling like a lot and I have to

constantly keep his mouth away from the paper. If you see weird wet

circles on the note that's why. I guess, if you want to see me again,

just call me. I'm writing my number - well, he's writing

it - on the back of this paper. Thank you!

Love,

Devon

PS: Sorry about the stain on the carpet. I tried to clean it but

I only made it worse. Guess someone enjoyed it way too much. Heh.

Sorry again, it'll be a fuss to clean I suppose. Er, just imagine me winking

an eye if that makes you feel better. I'm winking an eye now,

although you can't see it.

Okay, that's it. I'll tell this guy to stop writing. He's a

mess anyway. See you!