FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

The wall is forty feet tall, though, in the night sky, its height melted. It disappeared in the darkness like a cadaver down a well. Hidden was its immense size, the grass that grew on it, and what crowned its peak, the wooden fortifications.

The fort was more like a bunker and not for long-term habitation. It lacked a roof beside some molly webbing nets hanging on piping. Its walls were foot-deep, oak 2x4s against sandbags lining a T-shaped trench. At the base of the fort, the sandbags and wood planks were gone. Instead, there was a tripod mounting a medium machine gun.

The machinegun's tracers were The only thing Mac could see. A trail of orange-red that flew over his helmeted head, dragging in the mud as he crawled, cheek against the ground, below the barbed wire.

It was a week before graduation. The day of the forge.

It started at 4:30. The drill sergeants kicked in the platoon bay doors rather than awoke them with the intercoms. Mac left his bed in his uniform and boots, already prepared for the day. He did thirty bent leg body twists for that, though the drill sergeant knew such preparation was wise.

By 5:30, the whole company was on the march, in staggered column formation along the training base's main highway. Eighty pounds of equipment and clothing on Mac's back. Over four hours, interrupted by opportunities for discipline and snacks, the column marched ten miles before reaching the fifty-meter range.

There, Mac was given two magazines of ammunition for his m4, a barrier to stand behind, and fifty push-ups to do. Once the push-ups were done, Mac jumped to his feet and fired on a target fifty meters from his wall.

Once the company finished that range, the day was spent performing Individual movement techniques, or I.M.T.'s. Crawling. Prone dry firing. Communicating between squads. Dashing for seconds. Hitting the mud. Covering fire, still dry firing. Various infantry maneuvers between teams that, in hindsight, Mac didn't need as a road engineer.

The point was to keep them busy. Tire the trainees out. Make time pass before the big finale.

The night infiltration course.

After this, they could rest. After this, the trainees could go back to the barracks, change into p.t. clothes, get a headstart on laundry, and sleep. A weekend was ahead of them for rest. Then a week of busy work, paperwork, cleaning up the bay, practicing for graduation, learning where individual soldiers were to go for advanced personal training. Then graduation, a few months of A.I.T., and then home. A set course, a path hard to fail.

All Mac had to do was get through this one night.

Reach the other side of this one course.

The course started in the woods, a somewhat flooded swamp that led to trenches ten feet tall. Ladders every six feet, a trench almost a quarter of a mile long. At night, with most of the company already in the groove as Mac's platoon approached, their red Fulton lights on their plate carriers, the sight was glorious. Three hundred trainees of various backgrounds, cultures, religions, ideals, training regimes, even species as various tiger troopers lingered among humans, headed for different paths in life and death. All looked like the same, analogous dark figures in camouflage, illuminated by red light as they stood before the ladder.

On the edges of the course, in the woods, the drill sergeants hooted and hollered. Then, explosives detonated in barrels to produce booms of thunder flanking the trainees. Star flares fired overhead, parachuting to land hundreds of feet away.

There was one instructor in the trench. He was dressed the same as the other trainees, silent as the frozen ground crunched underfoot. A silver brooch around his neck reflected the red of their lights as he walked by.

"Shut up, and turn off your light."

Mac obliged, gripping the ladder in excitement.

Once the instructor was at the end of the trench, he about-faced to see darkness. All Fulton lights were off. All voices, silent.

Then the instructor grabbed his whistle and blew.

The trainees let out their war cries. Screaming, barking, screeching, as they climbed up the ladder and hit the deck. Mac was one of them, an uncharacteristic roar bursting from his chest. Then, rifle in hand and fire in his throat, he began the long crawl beneath the flurry of machinegun fire that filled the sky.

The mud was cold, crackling and crunching beneath him as he yanked himself forward with just his arms. His weapon in one hand, his legs unmoving, his cheek against the ground. The low crawl, the punishment maneuver reserved for massive fuck ups. Now the only way to do something right. The means to move beneath those ten meters of barbed wire that marked the course's halfway point.

High overhead, beyond the wire, and even above the machinegun fire, a star flare came. And Mac stopped moving. And while that flare fell, he was frozen, not permitted to move while the red light stabbed every retina. Leaving Mac stuck in a pool of broken ice and bone-chilling water.

And then, when the flare passed, Mac carried on. Until he finally passed the barbed wire, his head emerging from the puddle, soaked and burning with pain, caked in mud.

The machinegun fired again, and Mac hit the ground. Overhead flew tracers.

Those bullets.

If he raised his hand high enough, he could touch one.

Lose a finger in the process.

Then he would be out.

Probably six months to a year stuck in the fort, out processing, healing, mental health evaluation, and contract termination.

It would be quitting, but it would be quitting while ahead.

His doubts had come time and time again.

Things only got worse in training.

And from talking to buddies with prior service. Cynical acquaintances. Annoying guys who worried every which way. Even the officers, who spoke down to him, said that this was the easiest time of his career. Once he left, it would only get more challenging.

No drill sergeants to motivate you. No push-ups for discipline. Fuck up and get out. Do as your told and still fail because of circumstances and paperwork.

All for the national guard.

Noone would appreciate that.

A soldier in the guard is just a civilian in a uniform. He'd gone through all this hell, and he'd get nothing for it, but the occasional thank you and a Friday off work.

Why was he here? In that cold, uncomfortable, unforgiving hell. To be looked down upon by Snooty college-debtors? To be yelled at like a toddler by unlucky burn-outs? To get in trouble for mouth-breathing retard's fuck ups?

Mac watched the tracers fly, and now he saw the future. Of cold nights and freezing days. Of frozen meals and frigid comrades. Of passionless work and pointless play. Distractions from the truth.

It wasn't worth it. Nothing was.

So what difference did would it make if he just reached towards the bullets... and ...

Thump.

Mac's forehead smacked against the window, rousing him from his sleep.

"Oh, sorry, Mac. We hit a pothole."

Hearing the taxi driver say his name, Mac opened his eyes and rubbed his temple.

"Are you okay, Mac?" Smelter asked, sitting beside him and rubbing his arm.

The strange feel of her feather-lined fingers brushing against his clammy flesh was unsettling. He twitched, holding back the reflex to shove the feathered lady off. "I'm fine. I'm fine."

Smelter's grip lessened as she pouted. "You're not."

"Huh?"

Smelter's eyes looked down and then back up. "I mean, your leg is still fucked up."

As if on cue, Mac's foot ached.

"Just, don't touch me." He returned to staring out the window. "Please."

Smelter sighed, letting go of his arm and scooting to the other side of the taxi. The taximan, feeling the tension in the air, turned up the radio. A piano sonata, blissful and calm, filled the cabin. Outside of Mac's window, it began to rain.

Ten minutes later, the rain had gotten worse. Crashing down on the windshield like a thousand marbles, the rain turned the windshield opaque. The driver couldn't see even with the windshield warmers on and the wipers at their highest speed. Thirty miles per hour turned to ten, the taxi slowing its drive through streets that once again found themselves flooding.

The taxi stopped in front of the apartment complex of 208 Chucalassa avenue. Smelter quickly paid the driver, got out into the crashing rain, and helped Mac get on his crutches. Then, as fast as they could, they hurried into the apartment lobby.

Since he'd left for the hospital, Mac found that the lobby was finally finished. New carpets, new popcorn tile ceiling, even new tiling and wood on the walls. All nice bits and bobs that, in foresight, may seem pointless as the puddles outside grew taller than the sidewalk. Destruction creeping ever closer to undoing what had been created.

But Mac didn't think like the modern Sisyphus that is an interior designer. Instead, Mac thought like a depressed man, wet as a dog, in pain, bracing for more pain. Then, while he dripped and chittered in the cold, relief swept through him. There was no longer an out-of-order sign on the elevator door.

Smelter wrung her hair as Mac hobbled his way to the elevator. The man stood before the sliding doors, watching in the silver reflection his roommate finish with her hair.

Smelter rubbed her claws together like a job well done. "Hey! They finally fixed the elevator! So things are finally going our way, right?"

She smiled, one hand on her hip while the other opened the door. Mac shrugged as he entered the elevator. He thought of a snarky comment, and the only thing he could think of was, "Our way is wet and cold."

Waiting in the elevator as it rose, Mac couldn't stop shivering. Ice-cold droplets gathered on his eyebrows and nose, dripping to the floor with a "plop." that echoed in the silent cabin as it climbed upward.

Then Mac sneezed. "Do you have a tissue?" He sniffled.

Smelter's giant feather-tipped tail came forth and brushed under his chin.

The human cocked an eyebrow at the Raptor. "Really?"

"Have you ever blown your nose into a feather before?"

"Do you use your tail as a tissue?"

It was Smelter's turn to look quizzical. "I do. So what?"

Mac wretched, turning away as the tail slithered back behind Smelter's rump. Looking at the cold, sickly man in the elevator wall reflection, an unending feeling of pity filled Mac. Then there was a crumpling of paper.

As if she were offering a king a sword, Smelter held up a bunch of receipts to Mac. "Here. I never got a chance to throw them out while I was eating at the food court."

"Thanks."

As Mac blew his nose, overhead a screen's red numbers clicked on. Nine, then ten, then eleven. The lights flickered. Twelve appeared, then disappeared. Finally, a ding sounded, the destination for the passengers reached. But the door didn't open.

Instead, the lights turned off.

Still wiping his nose with the receipts, Mac gasped as he felt fluffy arms wrap themselves around his waist. "SMELTER, I-"

"I'm scared of the dark."

Her quick breath pulsing across his damp shirt, Mac inhaled. "Alright. I'm going to sit down."

Mac pressed his back against the wall, Smelter letting out an "Eep!" as he released his crutches and dropped to his knees. Then the human swung his foot and cast, kicking the legs out from under the lady accidentally. "HEY!"

"You're not easy to see."

"I'm clinging right to you." She whined, sitting on his lap.

"I know."

"Can you turn on the lights?"

Mac's phone light flashed. Blocking the bright beam, Smelter raised her arm, flashing her teeth. "Thanks."

While this specimen was up close, Mac took the time to study The Raptor's facial features. Her neon-blue pupils shrunk as she focused on Mac. Her muzzle, which Mac found cute with its stubby length and tiny nostrils. And her ears, little triangular-like things, belonging more to a dog or jackal than this feathered Dinosaur.

"What are you?" He asked.

"Fine, I could be in worse positions, all things considered."

The human snorted. "I mean, what is your species?"

The lizard lady looked up. "An eared-raptor is what my parent's called me."

"I didn't know dinosaurs were alive or had ears."

Her ears fluttered as she puffed her cheeks in embarrassment. "Yeah, well, I didn't know you would be so interested in them."

"A lot of you is interesting."

The sound of giggles filled the elevator air. Smelter's claws clasped the tip of her muzzle, red with embarrassment.

Even Mac was smiling, and this warmed the Raptor's heart. "I didn't think the man of few words was such a casanova."

"Me neither." He sighed as he said this and smacked his head against the wall. The look of sadness returned to the man's face.

"Are you okay?"

"Dumb question."

The raptor tisked. "I mean, why are you frowning now?"

"Because I'm not supposed to be happy." The flashlight was still on but didn't reflect off the human's eyes. "And I don't want you to suffer because of me."

Part of Mac wanted Smelter off of him. But he didn't want to put the energy in telling her off. Especially once she grabbed his cheeks and brought her forehead against his. The cold feeling that persisted throughout Mac's flesh waned ever so slightly at her touch. They sat like this for minutes, heads together in a silent closeness. Then Smelter pulled away and spoke.

"I know you've been through a lot. Unfortunately, things haven't gone your way in the short time I've known you. But life is full of bad things. They make the good things all more worthwhile."

Mac felt the need to look at his cast. It did make him better appreciate his ability to walk more, that's for sure.

Smelter talked again, a cheery tone. "Like, for instance! This one time, I was on a summer league for volleyball, right. And I was the only uh tiger trooper anthro gal of the group. Hated it. Hated all of those girls. And we lost the tourney. And then the flooding started on our trip home. So I took some cough syrup while we were in traffic, hoping to sleep through the trip..."

As she talked, Mac's eyes lit up. He had forgotten entirely about the flood and what he did.

"So I fell asleep for such a long time that I didn't realize the bus got stuck. And I had to be lifted out from the bus to a truck. And then again from that truck to another truck."

Smelter's hands gripped Mac's shoulders as she stared into his eyes.

"Some soldiers, some national guardsmen, rescued my comatose ass. And it made me appreciate all the work they do. That you do. Because maybe the rest of the world doesn't recognize the hard work and all that stuff you do. But I can. I will."

The gesture alone was more than anyone else had done for Mac in a long, long time. But the words, the promise, the burning in her eyes to do something right. It filled Mac with something he hadn't felt in a long, long time.

It was this feeling that Mac finally felt the courage, although hesitantly, to reveal the truth.

"I'm the one who saved you."

Smelter's jaw dropped. "No way. You're pulling my leg."

"You were with five other ladies. Your tracksuit was for Ridgedale university. You weigh a hundred pounds. And you've got scales under your feathers."

Their eyes were locked for a minute as Smelter processed the information, looking for any sign of lies.

Then she looked down and frowned. "Okay."

Then her toothy grin appeared once more. "Okay!"

Hopping on the human, she hugged him. "You could guess my weight when you carried me? That's so cool! Oh my god, that works out great!"

Mac winced as the Raptor gripped his arms in a tight vice. "What works out?"

Before she could answer, Mac's phone began to ring. Answering was a high-pitched yet distinctly male voice. "Hey, is this Macklemore Kenzy? Oh, one sec."

The phone crackled, and there was silence on the other side. Then the man screeched, "JOIN YOUR MOTHER IN THE PIT." Before a gunshot rang through the speaker.

"Hey-o! Welcome to the unit! I'm sergeant first class Rick. I'll be your retention N.C.O. After some recent excitement, I'm going to be doing a lot of paperwork involving pay. And while I'm at it, I figured, hey, let's get all loose knots fixed. Do you have any payment issues?"

"I do-"

"Good. Text me all your shit. I'll get it fixed over the next week or two. "

"Really?"

"Yes."

The distinct sound of a pistol being reloaded came through the speaker. Smelter and Mac's eyes met again before once more a gun went off.

"Was nice meeting you! I'll be taking care of it all soon. Goodbye and Welcome to the 555."

Then the sergeant hung up, leaving the two roommates to stare at the phone.

Smelter broke the silence. "Does that mean..."

"Things are going to be okay."

Smelter let out a girlish scream, unlike any warcry Mac had ever heard before. She hugged him tightly, pressing her muzzle against the nook of his neck. When he pushed her away, she was even accepting of it. Then her lips were met by a quick peck from the human.

The human scratches the back of his neck, horror filling his chest. He went too far. Now he was really going to be in the shit. If not pressed with a sexual assault charge, he was definitely going to be homeless. All he could do was utter a low "Sorry."

Then his lips were entrapped in her maw, the feathered lizard's mouth against his own. Her tongue pressed against his own, slathering her spit against his teeth and leaving a line of saliva as she pulled away with a gasp.

"I'm sorry." She panted, wafting hot air on Mac's cheeks. "It's just... goddamnit, I've been on my first heat since you first came here. And well, I had the fantasy that maybe you'd be that hero and I could repay you and ohmygosh it's true and ohmygosh...."

He hushes her with another kiss. A purr leaves the Raptor's mouth. "More."

Their lips intertwined, this time a mutual battleground for one another's carnal mouth games. Licking, sucking, kissing, their lips plated while they explored each other's bodies. Mac dug his finger's into his roommate's soaking wet shorts, yanking them and her underwear in such a swift moment the feathered Raptor gasped. She then groaned as he slapped her feather-covered ass, pulling her in close and feeling her plump tush. He pulled her cheeks apart, feeling a warm slickness on the tips of her fingers. The smell of fish was in the air.

Smelter pulled away, trailed by saliva. "Quit teasing me."

As if by the snap of her fingers, Mac suddenly was pantsless, his crown jewels in her grasp. The feel of her scalie skin and softness of her feathers only made his erection more painful.

He fell back against the wall of the elevator. His dinosaur companion lined herself up, gripping his cock between her thigh gap, wet with droplets of her neon-blue sex continuously raining from above.

One hand on his shoulder, Smelter placed the other on Mac's neck. Then she dragged her tongue down his neck, sending shivers down his spine. Then, reaching the man's collar bone, she puckered her lips and gave him a very slight but oh so painful nip.

Mac's grip on the Raptor tightened, pulling her close as he felt the pain. Then, hearing her chuckle, the human slapped his roommate's ass.

Smelter laughed again, then once more brought her tongue along Mac's neck before finally meeting him eye to eye.

"I want you inside."

Mac's eyes widened. "Condom?"

Smelter replied with a kiss. "Just pull out."

Fear flashed through Mac's subconscious. He had never had sex in the first place, and now his pull-out game was being tested? But Mac cast that all aside. He had gotten this far, and who knows for how long they would be trapped inside that elevator. Strike while the iron was hot! Worst-case scenario, he would be filing wage increase papers for his new dependant. He would have to anyway if he was going to marry his dark-feathered roommate.

Marriage. Mac embedded his fingers firmly into her rump, causing Smelter to whine with pleasure. There was no way in hell he was going to let her go. This little dino lady was his everything, or so he realized moments ago. Maybe marriage was something too soon to think about. But he definitely wouldn't want to marry anyone else.

"Maaaac...." Smelter's pussy ached and burned, dripping all over her lover's legs and aching hard-on. "Just put it in already!"

With a deep breath, the human obliged. Then, in one motion, the tip of his member pierced her petals. Immediately he was surrounded by a tight warmth, his breath hitching while she hissed.

"Oh, gawwd..." Smelter panted, her head against Mac's chest as her hand curled into a fist and smacked his shoulder. Mac's eyebrow furled as he became worried, ignoring the sensation of pleasure coming from his crotch.

"Should I-"

"Go. Keep going." Again the Dinosaur was whining. "Go gogogogogo."

And again, Mac obeyed the greedy dinosaur lady's orders. Then, slowly letting her down further and further, ignoring the hitches of her breathing and moans until finally, he could go no further. At this rate, Mac felt like an uncomfortably hot vice-grip was around him, tightening with every hitch of Smelter's breath.

Smelter's ears followed her breathing, flicking up and down like the busy semaphores of a sinking ship. It wasn't until Mac had his fingers under her chin, guiding her muzzle to kiss him again, that she finally got a handle of her breathing and her ears calmed down. Although the energy was still there, now shifting to her tail. Her tail now thumped in a rhythm against the elevator floor, much like a dog does out of excitement.

Smelter's hands now gripped Mac's shoulders. She came close for another nip, this time on his neck. Then as she pulled away, she said, "My turn."

She pulled herself up with shaking feet until again it was just the tip against her entrance. And then she dropped in a smooth motion, grinding her hips against this pelvis with a squishing noise. Then, finally, she stood again and repeated the process only quicker to a wet slapping sound.

Again and again, Smelter rose and fell, moving faster as her passion soaked Mac's crotch and the carpet beneath him. The Dinosaur's mouth hung open as she gazed upwards, lost in the feeling of pleasure.

Enjoying the sight, sound, and feel of his partner bouncing on him, something caught Mac's eye. It was how quick Smelter's modest, yet firm breasts moved up and down under her black shirt. Grabbing the feathered lady's shirt, Mac lifted it up and revealed that she was not wearing a bra. Instead, two neon-blue nipples, hard as diamonds, poked out from the tufts on the girl's breasts. Pinching one nipple, Mac kissed the other. Then bit and tug on it, causing the Raptor to moan.

"N-no. Stooop-"

Mac interrupted the Raptor's complaints with a heartfelt slap to her ass. Several more followed suit as Smelter's pace began to slow. "So... tired..." She groaned.

Again the human's finger's dug into the Raptor's plush ass. "Oh no, you don't."

Still nowhere close to climax, Mac slammed the Raptor down and then picked her up. Jackhammering the feathered lady, echoing sloppy sounds throughout the elevator. Wet, warm liquid puddled all around the couple, reaching the top of Mac's cast as the Smelter's tail continued to thud against the ground. Her tongue lolling out and her eyes crossed, meaningless nothings about birds and bees leaving Smelter's mouth as Mac's breath hitched. Then, feeling the climax coming closer, and closer, and closer, as the Raptor's tit's jiggled and her ass bounced up and down his cock and her pussy juices leaked and splashed all over until finally, with a grunt, Mac lifted Smelter up.

Only for her claws to dig into his arms as she pulled him close for a kiss, slamming her ass against the floor as he came. Coming inside of her, dousing the raging fires inside the Dinosaur with hot white love. Filling her so much that it leaked and joined the clear fluid that trailed down Mac's thigh and caked the floor.

They laid there against the elevator, mouths entwined. Smelter's arms wrapped snuggly around Mac's torso as her still sopping crotch hugged his member. Still leaking, making the faintest of wet noises as she moved to cuddle her lover.

Finally, Smelter pulled away and breathed a sigh of relief. Smelter's bright blue eyes widened, illuminated by the phone, which was now starting to soak in the carpet. "Oh, god..."

She clutched her face and looked down. Her cheek feathers plumed a bright red in embarrassment as she took note of the mess. Never mind the fact that she had undoubtedly just got herself pregnant with a man she had known for less than a week.

Tears began to well in the Dinosaur's eyes. Then, wiping them away, she sniffled. "Mac- I'm sorry. I-I got caught up-."

But Mac was quick to silence the Raptor with a kiss on the lips. Then, pulling away, he took her hand in his right, entwining her fingers. "It's okay..."

With his left, he cupped her cheek. Then, staring into the crystal-blue pupils and seeing his own reflection, Mac spoke.

"I don't care what happens. So long as you're happy, that's all that matters."

Smelter chuckled, tears falling down her cheeks. "Oh, Mac~."

The blue Dinosaur wrapped her arms around the human's neck and pulled him close. Just as the lights turned on again, and the door opened to their floor.

Wiping her snotty nose with her wrist, Smelter looked past the doors down the hallway to her Apartment. "Hehe, how about we get back to our apartment and I get you out of those clothes?"

It was Mac's turn to turn red with embarrassment. Then, looking away from his roommate, he spoke softly. "C-can we cuddle?"

Smelter helped Mac up onto his crutches, his pants dripping. Her pants remained off, her bare ass feathers drying in the chill air. "In my room. Yes."

And so the new couple made their way to Apartment 1208. And they would spend their night together, within the confines of Smelter's pink-painted walls, wrapped in each other's embrace. Switching between bouts of passion and rest. Sleeping soundly and loving intimately, knowing that whatever happens tomorrow, they had each other. All as outside, the rain continued to pour.

The End.