FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

Disclaimer - Feeling lost? No? Well, would you like to? This story is a little bit hazy, with notes of surrealism and absurdity. It's also lewd, and quite strange. If you'd like to lose yourself in it, then by all means, please do. If you're not looking for such things though, the exits are everywhere but downwards. (This is a work of pornographic fiction. Do not read if it would be illegal for you to do so.)

The Smoking Room

The old oak door looks ancient, dark wooden surface stained by the ages. It stands out against the more modern, almost sterile cleanliness of the hotel walls. The sign set into it reads "Smoking Room" in burnished golden letters.

Generally, smoking indoors is illegal these days, but maybe this hotel has a lounge that was grandfathered in, or maybe it's some kind of semi-outdoor space.

Either way, it sounds like something worth seeing.

The brass handle feels warm to the touch as you push your way through, finding yourself in a dimly lit hallway lined with red velvet curtains. You tread forwards into the dimness, letting one of your hands trail behind you, feeling the bristly soft velvet tingle against your fingers. Your shoes sink slightly into the lush red and black carpet with every step, the pattern repeating under you over and over again.

You look behind you, and the old door seems further away than you expected, like you were sliding down the gullet of some giant glitzy beast.

The strangest thing though, is that it doesn't seem to end. The more you walk, the longer the hallway stretches. The curtains remain motionless, and the arabesqued patterns on the carpet swirl ever onwards. The only thing that does change is the smell. Your nostrils flare as you breathe in the hint of something sweet and gently spiced, like a bakery making cardamom buns.

As your hand trails along the curtains you realize that, regardless of how hard you press, you never feel a wall. Curiously, you stop and push forward with both hands against the heavy drapes as they yield, brushing against your body like a giant feline tongue, scraping against your face as you stumble through them.

The heavy fabric falls back behind you, and suddenly, you feel very small and very out of place.

Fantastically high tables and stools loom all around you in the strange casino-esque room, like they were made for giants. It brings back memories of seeing the undersides of tables as a child, and smelling your grandfather's cigars in the next room. The smoke smells stronger here, hazy curls drifting through the air around the funnel like lamps suspended from the seemingly infinite dark gloom above you.

It doesn't feel like a place made for people like you.

Walking forward, you rest your hand against the dark polished wood of one of the gigantic chairs, bigger than a table, with the seat just slightly above your head. You almost want to crawl up onto it just to see what's on the table, but that seems so undignified . . .

"Why, hello there!" A cheerful, deep, bubbling voice rings out in the silence from behind you.

You take your hand off the chair like a shop clerk just caught you touching something behind the counter.

"I'm afraid you're a little early, friend. No one else is here at the moment," the voice chuckles and a deep, complexly delightful fragrance fills the air.

You turn around and find yourself at a loss for words. At first, you think it's a dragon, and it sort of is, but constructed of gleaming brass plates all around a glittering glass sphere in its center, crystal clear water inside splashing around as it moves. He's about the size of a stretched-out VW bus. Your eyes rise up his gently curling sinuous neck of glossy woven dark cord to his beaming face, long molded brass muzzle curled up in a smile as smoke drifts from his lips. His tapered horns turn to the side as he looks down at you quizzically.

The delicious spiced bakery smell from before . . . It's coming from him. The perfumed smoke drifts out from between his solid brass lips. Your eyes scroll down his body towards the swaying segmented plates of his tail. It weaves about, but the burning embers in the cup-like tip always remain upright, like it was part of a needlessly lavish camera gimble.

You stand in silence, looking up at him with your mouth agape.

He chuckles, tail-embers glowing, puffs of smoke pulled from his tail, bubbling up through his glass belly, and then streaming out through his jaws.

"Hmm . . ." He taps a taloned finger against the side of his muzzle with a clack. "Well, if you're not here for the party, then are you here to help?" He purses his lips and blows the questioning plume of wispy smoke directly into your face.

It's like being catapulted into a fluffy spiced cloud. Your thoughts leave your body for a moment, soaring in the warm sweet puffs of ginger and cardamom, with just a hint of clove. There are other tantalizing scents in there too, but you have no idea what to call them or even compare them to. You take a deep breath and let them tickle your lungs as your eyes fall half lidded.

"Well, are you really here to help, then?" He grins like a Cheshire cat, smile appearing first as the smoke dissipates around you.

You stand in silence for a few seconds before you nod dumbly, the entire surreal location spinning around you, the hookah-dragon's beaming face the only thing remaining in focus. You're not sure exactly what he means, but he smells so good . . .

That, and he seems quite nice.

"Lovely. Delightful. Absolutely superb!" He punctuates each unit of praise with a few wisps of smoke that trail out from his jaws like ribbons in the wind.

"First thing's first: this place has a bit of a dress code." He gestures at his gleaming sinuous body with his relatively short arms.

You stare up at him quizzically. He isn't wearing any clothes.

He stares directly back at you, corner of his mouth turning up as he raises a gilded brow.

. . . Oh. . .

You swallow heavily, looking around the strange room, beams shining down in little islands of illumination amidst the distant red velvet curtains.

It's just you and him.

You reach down and begin unbuttoning your shirt.

"An excellent start. What a delightfully strange body you have." He licks his lips with his inky black tongue.

Your cheeks burn as you peel off your shirt, his head craning in curiously as you step out of your shoes and drop your pants as well.

"And what lovely curves . . ."

You shiver as you feel the smokey warmth of his breath against your bare skin, your nostrils huffing as you drink in the saccharine flavor of his praise.

The strange brass dragon tilts his head to the side for a moment. "No tail though . . ." The slight disappointment in his voice is crushing. Your stomach rises up in your throat as you hazily wonder what you did wrong.

"Not to worry though. We can fix this." He ambles behind you, clear liquid sloshing around in his crystal belly. "Only if you wish to, of course. You would like that though, wouldn't you?" He finishes the question by blowing a billowing ring of smoke that drifts towards your exposed rump, dissipating like a faintly warm wave crashing against you.

You nod, shivering. Every time your lick you lips you can taste him, his smoke suffusing your senses.

You need more . . .

"That's the spirit!" He lets out a pleased chuckle, reaching out and grasping your rump with his warm, articulated talons. "Now then, let's get to work."

He licks his chops with his inky black tongue before leaning in, pressing his snout between your cheeks as he laps up with slippery warmth. A trail of smooth blackness trails behind his tongue, stretching from your taint up and across your bared asshole. Your spine arcs up and you moan out as he laps up over and over again, massive, pliant tongue coating your rump, lashing across your increasingly sensitive flesh and prodding your quivering anus. With each lacquer-like coat, the sensations change, heat and pleasure radiating though you.

You can feel his tongue tugging at your flesh like he was licking up at soft serve ice cream. Your flesh, now coated in rubbery darkness is tugged along, pulled out longer and longer with each lapping lick. He nibbles up your forming tail as it thickens, coaxing it out longer and wider around the base.

You shiver with strange new sensations as you feel it begin to writhe about. It's not like you're clenching muscles but more as if it quivers directly along with your thoughts, squirming in pleasure. The featureless polished black spreads out, coating your hips as they widen, your body creaking.

His long, woven neck twists around your lengthening tail, tongue dripping pure, thick darkness. He licks his chops before latching his lips around your wriggling tail tip, and your eyes fly wide. As he makes out with your tail, one of his talons circles your gleaming dark asshole, pressing forward with measured insistence before sliding inside of you. You let out a garbled gasp of pleasure, your insides wrenching down at his wide digit automatically.

His tongue licks across the thinner tip of your glossy black tail, wriggling around it. You can feel it like it's your own skin, but more so, making the sensations from the rest of your body seem artificial by comparison. Your eyes fly wide as his tongue sinks impossibly inside of you, pressing inside the tip of your tail, tongue squirming around the rubbery, amazingly sensitive insides of your new appendage as your ass wrenches down around his probing finger pressed inside you.

He pulls back both his digit and his tongue with two lusty pops, licking his brass lips with relish. You stand there, huffing, feeling your new tail snake around as you try to control it. Your asshole clenches at nothing, the flesh smoothed over, leaving only a simple round rubber hole under the wide base of your tail. The tip of your tail feels similarly wrong . . . Empty . . .

"You're a natural , my dear," the dragon simpers, stroking up your new inky black featureless reptilian tail with his talons.

The sensation makes your hair all stand on end, your cock pulsing and dripping down against the plush carpet.

He cranes his head in over you and blows a curling plume of smoke against your face. Your lungs creak as you breathe in, like they were making more room for that addictive blend of sweet spice and warmth.

"Such a passion for smoke!" His approval sinks into your mind as you breathe out a small cloud of his twisting fumes. "What a delightful little pipe you'll make." You can see how pleased he is as he waddles a few steps over to the side of one of the looming tables. "And I have just the thing you need . . ."

He pulls himself up on his hind legs, reaching up and grabbing something, liquid in his glass belly sloshing as he lets himself down, holding a strange fused golden bowl and saucer in his hand. It has a strange single hollow pipe running from the bottom, looking almost like the ember filled attachment on his own tail.

There's something about it that makes you hungry, your mouth suddenly watering.

"Here we are. No self-respecting pipe would be caught without their bowl, right?"

You nod groggily, eyes still fixed on that gleaming metal object.

That does sound right . . .

He trundles back over to you, nuzzling up the side of your tail. Your spine stiffens as you wrap against him with your flexible new ebony appendage. He walks his fingers up your wide rubbery length, grabbing the end in his brass talons, teasing the rounded opening at the tip, making pre well out from your shaft as you shiver in alien anticipation.

"Ohh, so very eager," he simpers as he teases you, lapping coyly at the unbearably sensitive hollow tip of your tail. He raises the strange golden device up, lining it up with your tail tip. "Let's just give you what you want then, hmm?" And with that, he slowly slides the rounded pipe in the base of the strange metal bowl into your waiting slot.

Your mind fizzes with pleasure as your new rubbery flesh clenches and oozes, solidifying around the warm metal. It feels heavy at first, but the weight slowly fades away as your tail undulates and then straightens up so that the bowl remains facing upwards. Even as he lets go, your tail sways lazily behind you, mirroring the hazy pleasure of your thoughts. The saucer and bowl remain stable and upright like it was magic, not even requiring a thought. You look back and trace down your undulating tail towards your golden saucer, and a strange pride wells up inside of you.

You're an extravagance, a refined luxury.

Just like he is.

You can feel his fingers as they tink off the sides of the golden protrusion, making a moan escape you as he cradles it in his hands.

"Now then, we can't leave you so dreadfully exposed, now can we?" The brass dragon grins as he watches you undulate your new tail, darkness seeping out over your rump and hips as your stance slowly shifts even wider. "No one at a party wants an empty pipe."

His own smoldering tail curls up over his shoulder. He reaches back and takes a hefty pinch of the strange glowing embers, brass fingers seemingly unphased by the heat. With careful, almost tender consideration, he then packs the strange fiery substance into your own tail-bowl.

You dimly expect it to burn, but instead, the intense heat is strangely comforting, tingling down your tail as he stirs it around, smoke and sparks billowing up. Each touch is strangely blissful, the click of his metal claws against you more sensitive than flesh could ever be.

"There we go. How lovely. How elegant." He lets go of your tail and lets it sway about behind you with a hazy flourish. "Doesn't it feel nice to be so refined?"

A blush creeps into your cheeks. It definitely does though. You reach back, feeling the smooth darkness of the base of your tail behind you. It's smooth and perfect. Completely without flaw.

There's still something wrong though . . . Looking down there's a seam, between your black flawless body and . . . imperfection?

You draw in a wheezing breath and cough slightly, thoughts spinning.

"Oh, don't you worry, my little pipe. You're not quite finished yet." He grins as he walks back around in front of you, tail rubbing against your own, your upright smoking tips clinking together like champagne flutes, causing a thrill to reverberate through you.

His head snakes around in front of you.

"Let's have a sampling, shall we?"

His warm, brass lips press in against your own and your eyes go wide as he breathes a great pressured burst of billowing spiced smoke directly into you, making your lungs strain, the pressure pleasant as the heat rises inside of you. His tongue swirls around the inside of your mouth, coating your tongue and teeth in inky blackness, taste completely dominated by his delicious smoke.

But then, a strange feeling rises inside of you. Your tail shudders, embers glowing. You can feel heat rushing through your insides, swirling inside of you, and when he breaks the kiss, you find yourself breathing out a cloud of smoke as well. It's so easy just to keep blowing, the haze of twisting whiteness billowing out against the brass dragon's face as he closes his eyes and allows the cloud to wash over him like an advertisement for exotic perfume.

The way he relishes your smokey breath makes need burble up inside of you. It's strange, half way through the extended breath, you can smell the smoke change, still sweet, but with heavier notes of cedar and cinnamon.

It smells like you. It smells delicious. It smells like indulgence.

"Ahh, such a lovely blend. You're quite good at this." He laps up your face. "But perhaps slightly too heated for most of our guests."

You turn your head, trying to follow his words.

"Here." He scoops you up with his arms and places you with your back against one of the giant chair legs. "Let's fill you up with something to help mellow you out, hmm?"

He hoists himself up, claws grabbing at the chair as you stare into the sloshing clear contents of his rounded belly like it was a lava lamp. He presses up slightly higher, and you see something else, a glistening black length sprouting from between his tail and bulbous stomach. You lick your black, smooth lips as he grinds the warm rubbery length against your cheek.

"There you go, my little pipe," he coos out as you find yourself drawn towards his ebony member, raising your hands up and wrapping them around the massive spire, squeezing the taut, yielding rubber.

"Just. Like . . . Ahhhhhhhh." His words fade into a great sigh of smoke as you wrap your lips around his shaft and he rocks forward, pinning your head to the wooden chair leg behind you as his cock slides into your mouth.

You expect to gag, bracing yourself for discomfort, but instead, it's the easiest thing in the world, your throat stretching, wrapped tightly around his pulsing shaft as the gooey darkness creeps down your gullet. You can hear the sound of him sloshing around as he rams forwards, burying his rubbery maleness into your waiting socket of a mouth.

A faint hiss resonates inside of him, his turgid length quivering and tensing up inside your maw before he seizes, and then a wave of cool liquid rushes out and pours down your throat. You groan out, eyes fluttering at the pleasure of being filled.

"There we go. What an eager little pipe you are." The dragon's tail quivers as he continues to pump you fuller, leaving behind a faint trail of smoke behind it.

Your own tail curls around the square edges of the massive wooden slab behind you, tip flicking back and forth.

"Just the perfect thing to cool down all of that blazing smoke of yours, hmmm?" His words are stilted, his pleasure evident as he continues to force waves of clear, cool liquid inside of you.

With every gulp of the liquid pleasure, your belly swells bigger and bigger, skin pushed out from the inside, becoming round and smooth. The color begins to fade from your flesh as the liquid sloshes around your insides, your stomach rounding out, becoming translucent and solid: a stately orb for a center, just like his own.

The ceaseless advance of perfect rubbery darkness seeping over you also increases its pace as you lose yourself in the pleasure of being pumped fuller and fuller by the dragon, his words of praise ringing in your ears, assuring you that you're a one-of-a-kind extravagance. Your thighs creak wider, tarry black seeping down your legs, pulling your heels off the ground as your stance widens. Your toes lengthen and fan out as the darkness overtakes them, saurian talons clenching at the plush carpeting under you.

The darkness seeps from your lips, stretching out over your face, seeping over your nose, condensing over your ears and pulling them back against your smooth dark flesh. You're able to take more and more of his shaft, muzzle stretching forwards. Your thickening black tongue bastes the bottom side of his pulsing shaft in your needy affection, motions slowing as it slowly fuses with the bottom of your sucking, rounded mouth. The dark goo seeps down over your arms, pulling tighter and tighter, simplifying but accentuating your features. It sticks between your fingers and then snaps apart, leaving you with thick, rubbery paws that grasp against his warm brass thigh plates.

Feeling the cool liquid sloshing around inside of your thick, hardening belly is strangely calming, lapping pleasure sinking over your mind. A thrill runs through your spine, now just a stretched bridge of rubber along the top of the glassy orb. Your gaudy crystal core finally stops swelling, glittering in the dim light. Your hands reach down to cradle your thick, perfectly rounded glass belly, feeling the coolness lap against your insides.

The dragon shudders, tail flickering behind him before he finally pulls back with a contented sigh. His girthy, spent member pulls back from your mouth with a slick pop. It leaves your mouth feeling empty in the same way your ass does, no longer lips, but just a rounded, rubbery hole: A plaything aching to be filled.

"Oh my . . . It seems you really enjoyed that, didn't you, my darling little pipe." He lowers himself to the ground with a great, smokey sigh right into your face.

You bask in the ambrosial spiced blend, but all that comes from you is drifting twin plumes from your nostrils.

"Ahh, I see you'd rather save your delightfully naughty little mouth for other activities, hmm?" He reaches in and runs a brass talon around the edges of your mouth-hole.

The contact makes hazy stars of pleasure flicker in your vision, your mouth quivering, suckling automatically at the finger before he pulls it back.

"That's perfectly fine, you decadent little thing," he chuckles out a few curling rings of smoke. "There's always more than one way to smoke a pipe . . ." He grins at you, licking his lips as he snakes his neck in, a puffing smoky breath wafting against your exposed, leaking member. "And maybe we can get you a few more adornments, hmm? Make you a true work of art . . ."

He nuzzles in against your crotch, tongue slurping up the side of your shaft before he easily takes your cock into his massive, rubbery muzzle.

Smoke jets from your flared nostrils, the insides of his mouth condensing and suckling around you, tongue flickering at the bulbous head of your cock. Darkness envelops your shaft, pulsing as it seeps down, tightening around your balls, pulling them into two polished, quivering lumps that his tongue snakes out and laps over.

You reach out, grabbing ahold of his horns, electric pleasure buzzing through you, radiating out from your shaft. You feel your insides shifting around, intricacies of biology simplified into dark, rubbery elegance. Your bones creak one last time, sensations percolating inside of you.

You arch your back as strange solid things begin to press out from inside of your body, causing you to quake at the foreign sensation. Your glossy skin quivers as golden plates slowly seep out of your rubbery body, gleaming in the dim light. Your inky blackness snaps apart like taffy as they push through, hard plates even more sensitive than your ebony skin, segmenting along the length of your tail, racing up your spine along the top of your orb, and covering your stubby fingers in delicate metallic talons.

Instead of moans, gurgling hisses escape from your mouth, smoke blasting out in twin jets from your nostrils as a simplified, elegant golden mask slowly covers your face, glittering horns curling back along your head.

Each time his mouth wraps around your swelling cock, your neck creaks out longer, plate after plate of gold forming between your shoulders and neck. Your tail lashes behind you, leaving a smokey trail. Your golden toe talons curl into the carpet while your insides twist. The sensations from your shaft shift subtly, his mouth feeling tighter, pressure becoming unbearable as you can't help but rock your hips against him, mashing your taut, pliant ball-bulges against his chin, clear liquid inside of you sloshing around in a frothy maelstrom.

Then you stop, feeling a small click inside of you: a tiny sensation that echoes throughout your body.

The edges of the dragon's lips curl up, his mouth tightens around your shaft and he pulls back. Golden sparks fly in your vision, your entire body shaking at the sensation, your cock still lodged between his jaws as he pulls away further and further, the sensations boiling over inside of you. A thick, woven cord of black and gold spools out from your crotch, connected to your cock in his lips. Your insides shudder, the sensations of your extending line almost as sensitive as your cock.

Your tail flares up, smoke rushing down, bubbling through the chill liquid in your core, cascading down between your legs and up the cord towards the dragon, ecstasy blooming through you.

His cheeks puff out as you reach climax, and he grabs your cord with a paw, pulling your cock free with a pop and a hissing plume of smoke spewing from your altered member. Your impossibly sensitive shaft is now a work of art, black tapering length ending in a smooth golden mouthpiece, the base a heavy golden bulb. You can feel it quiver as you come, your smoke rich and spiced, sweet but not cloying. He twirls your cord around his finger as your climax subsides, just a small drifting ghost of smoke wafting from your tip just before he kisses your member.

Another orgasm washes immediately over you as he sucks down some of your delicious smoke, letting the rest bloom and dissipate into the already hazy air.

"Ohhh, what a magnificent pipe you make: Gaudy and Brilliant and Delicious. . ." He blows out the last of your own smoke, and then a cloud of his own, your two scents mingling, dancing in your senses, making your mouth-hole water.

"And so very functional." He gives your line a tug, letting your cord reel back, your cock pulled flush against your body, spooled cord hidden inside of you, just waiting to be pulled again.

"So very needy." He pats your head gently.

His praise seeps into your senses.

You are a good pipe.

You want nothing more than to serve, to share, to exist as an opulent plaything.

His hands play over every inch of you, clacking off your golden plates, tinking against your gleaming crystal belly, and teasing over your pliant dark flesh.

The mere contact is bliss.

The curtains at the edge of the room where you had once entered rustle. A woman in a long brown skirt and a yellow sweater yanks up the red velvet curtains and pulls herself through them, mussing up her long frizzy orange hair. She stops wordlessly as she sees the both of you next to the oversized table, gilt bodies gleaming in the dim light, your own molded form a miniature, upright version of the dragon's own.

The brass dragon swings his head towards her, lips curling up in a smile as he pushes you before himself, taking a few waddling steps towards the woman.

"Helllllo there, darling ," he breathes out with the last word, enveloping her in a cloud of smoke, her eyes widening as she smells the delightful spiced bouquet.

"We've been waiting for you." He grins, reaching down and grabbing your cock, your hose unreeling as he proffers it towards her, a thin trickle of smoke leaking from the tip as you shudder, pleasure building like a tensed spring.

Her eyes lock onto your mouthpiece as she distractedly licks her lips, sending the thrill of anticipation through you.

"Care for a puff?"