FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

Oppositional Photography

Sponsored by Dreixes

By Draconicon

"Thanks, but, uh, you're just, uh..."

Not your type. Yeah, heard that one a few dozen times tonight, Vera thought. The black bear waved the fox away, turning around on her stool to look down at her pint again. Where the mug had been rather inviting a few hours ago, it looked like a deep well now, and all the more enticing for that after getting so many rejections. She held it up, looked through the glass at the flat beer, and then slowly pushed it away. The bartender hurried over, the hippo taking it away and leaving her a bill.

"Hey! I didn't say that I was done drinking!" Vera shouted after him.

"Pay for the flats first!"

"You're the one with my card, ass-hat!"

"Need another one!"

Must have been one of those cancellations, then. Half the corporate cards that she carried tended to be iffy; some of 'em got canceled at a moment's notice once the people that ran them started seeing her stories go against their interests. Must have been one of them cutting their losses and leaving her flailing in the wind again. The black bear pulled her wallet from her jeans, flicking through the other cards before picking one that had worked just that morning. The hippo took it and ran back to the till.

While he scanned it, she turned, looking at the rest of the bar. It wasn't really her kind of place, but considering that the usual biker and trucker crowd were notoriously absent from this city - at least, near the city center near her hotel - she'd hoped that the half-drunk office workers would have at least a few catches for her. She'd just gotten a story done on the local police department, one of the few that had embraced defunding and restructuring, and she'd hoped that it would get her something.

Instead, every guy that caught her eye would walk up, give her a second look, and then come up with some kind of excuse. The latest one had just been more honest about it.

Not my type.

She rolled her eyes as she turned around again, shuffling one arm through the leather sleeve of her jacket. The hippo came back, taking her bill away.

"What'll you have?" he asked.

"Little info, if you got it."

"Lady, I'm just a bartender. You want to know stuff, talk to the customers, not me."

"I'm trying; they're not interested."

"Well, you're fat, you know."

"...Excuse you, but you're not exactly Mr. Universe yourself," Vera said, chuckling. "You want to try that again?"

"Hey, don't look at me. Look at that."

He pointed off to the side, where a poster that was half-hidden behind another customer could just barely be seen. She leaned back, only to immediately roll her eyes.

It was something from a modeling agency that she'd been following on allegations of abuse lately. They had a great deal of famous women that went all over the world, showing off their bodies, modeling different clothes for any designer that had the money to snag them, and sometimes doing things that were a great deal more on the quasi-legal side than actually legal. Not quite porn, but...other things.

Point was, they were beautiful in the 'traditional' sense, in that they were as skinny as one could imagine, enhanced with implants in the chest and ass. Obviously so, for the eye that knew what to look for. Like hers. She snorted as she looked away from the ruby-scaled bikini model, shaking her head.

"What's that got to do with anything?"

"You gonna order something?"

"Top shelf, if you keep talking."

"Well, then." The hippo hesitated for a moment. "Well, guess there's no harm in saying. They've got their home offices here. Everyone's got the chance to see those hotties walking the streets, in the stores, everywhere. Compared to that, what kind of stuff can you really offer them?"

"A lot more than they think."

"Take a look again. They got you beat."

"..."

"Whatcha taking?"

"Tequila. Best one you got."

"That'll be -"

"Did I ask for a price check? Best. You. Got."

Least she could fuck over another corporation for that. From what she remembered, this one was going to be pissed with her a week from now, when the story about their waste treatment plants and hazardous waste employee treatment broke. Once that hit the net and the papers, they were going to be allllll kinds of pissed.

Shouldn't have believed me when I said I'd slant it, heh.

Might as well get something out of it while it was still working.

As the hippo brought her the bottle, pouring her a couple of shots, Vera glared at the poster again. She could see the stretch marks that were hidden by computer imagery, seeing them super-imposed on the model from some of the real photos that she'd managed to dig up. She saw the surgery scars that came from weight-sucking, from tit inflation, from ass padding that could end up with a full-on rejection.

And that was before the ladies were put through some of the other, more rumored stuff that she'd been sniffing out. Some of the models - and some of the men, too, since not all the models were women - were said to be hired for parties, big ones, that ended up with hospital trips. Some of them were hired out as 'companions', able to be picked up by various men in the streets.

The modeling agency, 'The Fantasy Realized', had been pushing just how accessible their staff were, how hot they were. It was a danger to the workers, and a serious problem with how they affected the people around them. It made it look...casual, normal, when it was anything but.

The first shotglass found its way to her lips, and she downed it. The rest were for tasting; this one was to get her drunk.

She must have blacked out at some point, because she woke up in the corner of the bar to the band blasting and her head feeling like it was about to split wide open. The black bear rolled herself upright in her booth, rubbing her head. Nobody around, nothing missing. She'd forgotten what a reputable bar meant when it came to keeping her belongings on her. Big plus, considering the last time that she blacked out like that, she'd woken up in a truck on the way to the other side of the country and tied to the bed of it.

Not a bad lay, at the end of things. Piece of shit deserved getting arrested at the end of it, though.

The black bear looked up as a shadow fell over her table, not particularly surprised to see a waiter come to her. Little surprised to see an ostrich, though. Wide-centered, slight shoulders, with a neck that was just long enough to feel wrong and just short enough to feel off for a true bird, he looked like a mismatched set of proportions. He had long pink arms, slender legs, and feathers that went over his shoulders and down his back and exposed bit of his chest, and had a beak that was tilted up in a sympathetic smile.

"Bad night?" he asked.

"No idea. Time?"

"Around 11:30 PM."

"Not that bad, then," she muttered, rubbing her forehead. "Got any coffee?"

"You're lucky; we keep some around for the black-outs."

"Two cups. Black."

"You know it. Anything else?"

"Heh...nothing that you can give me professionally."

His cheeks burned for a moment, but then he was off. She leaned back again, rubbing her forehead. Some of the booze was still in her system, judging by the lack of balance, but she was thinking...mostly clear. Not completely, considering that she just flirted with a waiter while he was still on shift - not her usual sort of unprofessionalism - but it wasn't having her flash her tits, at least. That was an improvement.

11:30. That meant that she'd been either blasted or out cold for the last...eh, two, two and a half hours. Not that bad, all things considered. Particularly for tequila. Top shelf, her fucking ass.

The band was playing at top volume, and there was a small crowd of people dancing in the center of the room. Including one of the models that came from 'The Fantasy Realized,' she saw. That one was down to little more than a bikini dress, showing off her body, getting the attention of every guy in the room. Some girls, too.

Her eyes wandered, taking in some of the other patrons around her age. Those in their forties, some in their early fifties, all looking annoyed. Most of 'em had no reason to be alone, and they weren't alone by choice, she could tell that much. She'd done the bar-trawling thing for company enough time to know the sort of look that other horny, lonely people got when they were on the prowl. Hell, half of 'em looked better than she did, and she was not doing badly for herself for a bear in her mid-forties.

Shuffling about with her pockets, she pulled out a foldable mirror, unclicking it to look at herself. Yeah, her eyes had that fading blur of someone that had drunk too much, but that hadn't been there earlier, and there were other things to see that were better. A little hint of grey along the edge of her muzzle, early fading - she'd need to dye that later - but nothing outrageous, nothing that made her look like a granny.

Her leather jacket covered a t-shirt that was, admittedly, fading and a bit frayed around the neckline, but who could blame her for that? She'd come in big during puberty, and they'd grown a bit bigger and a little bit less bouncy over the years. The hefty pair had dragged her shirt down over time, and considering that she wore this thing anytime that she went somewhere to relax, it showed its age. She couldn't even remember what the logo on it had been twenty years ago, but hell if it mattered now.

Age had brought her a soft stomach, and her species hadn't helped with that. It wanted to hold onto every goddamn calorie that she ate, and she had spent more than one year fighting it once the first cold gust of winter started blowing. Her stomach turned into an opposing force, and she had to remind it hard that they were civilized now, that they weren't going to starve if she didn't gorge herself.

Didn't always work, as the old stains on her leather pants told her. Leather pants that had been stretched out much as her shirt had been, pushed out in the waist and the ass. She kept herself in shape as best she could, but the combination of aging and being a bear meant that there was only so much that one could do. Biology was a fucking bitch.

She shuffled back on her chair, popping her boots off and putting them further along the booth seat. She laid her heels down on the opposite side of the table, letting herself air out a little bit.

Her eyes were inevitably drawn back to the skinny little bitch model that was dancing with the others. The vixen female was smiling as pretty as a picture, and twice as dully. Vera shook her head. What sympathy she had for those that were exploited by their agency was held back by residual drunkenness and frustrated horniness.

Setting standards that you can't meet, most of the time. Fucking...

She sighed, rubbing her eyes. She needed that coffee.

The ostrich made his way down the room, carrying a platter with two coffee cups and a jug filled to the brim. She grunted her thanks, pulling out her wallet and taking a twenty out.

"That'll cover it and then some. Keep the change," she muttered.

"Thanks."

"Actually, one last thing," she said. "Those models. They come around often?"

"Uhhhhh..."

"Off the record," she said.

"Well...the boss sometimes hires them to come by and...socialize," the ostrich said. "It brings a lot of guys in to drink. Some girls, too, but...between you and me, it's kind of chasing off the regulars."

The regulars that didn't have a lot of places to go for fun. Those that didn't really want to spend their time online. Those that had the experience, but not a lot of stuff to show for it sometimes. Those people that just wanted to come down for some fun, not for anything special.

Yeah. It made some business sense. It was also fucking stupid.

Vera chugged the first cup of coffee, throwing it back until it was burning the back of her throat and she needed to stop. Once the burn faded, she finished it, refilled the cup, and shifted to the next one. That one went at more of a sipping pace.

"Criminal, that," she muttered.

"I don't like it, I admit," the ostrich said. "I mean...we're not a runway, and not a dance club. We're a bar. And that..."

"You've been striking out too, huh?" the black bear asked with a smile.

"I - you - are you this forward with everyone?" he asked, rubbing the back of his neck.

"Sometimes. When it gets the job done."

"Look, um...are you actually..."

"Heh. I'd ask your place or mine, but I'm not taking you back to my hotel, hun. When do you get off work?"

"Uh...ten minutes?"

She rooted through her wallet, pulling out another twenty.

"Get yourself a take-out order ready. You're gonna need it. What's your name?"

"I, uh, you, um - Oliver."

"Nice to meet you, Oliver. I'm Vera. Now...get along. Don't want to be late, do you?"

He hustled on, more than a little red in the face as he did, but with a great deal more gusto and pep in his step than before. She watched as his ass shook, his tail feathers wobbling a bit, and she chuckled to herself. Birds weren't common partners, but they tended to be rather interesting. And she'd never had an ostrich before.

#

The fuck had ended up being a great way to finish coming out of her hangover, and while she was still a little fuzzy on the details of what had happened, she was a hell of a lot clearer than she had been. She rubbed her forehead a bit, massaging away the last of the headache.

So, we did...doggy-style...anal...bit of ass to mouth... She rubbed her lips. Glad I was clean. And...oh, yeah...

Oliver had been rather eager to try using his beak on her. Mostly as a sort of combination between oral and using it as a fuck toy. He had just the right size for a good bit of fun, and he had a long enough neck to get a woodpecker action going on her pussy that was almost like a jackhammer. That, combined with his nostrils being perfectly placed for hot puffs over her clit had gotten her going but good.

Overall, solid eight out of ten. Weird enough to keep her from going to a full ten, a little pushy when it came to getting sucked off after fucking her ass, but eh, he was young. Young guys were allowed to be a bit weird.

As they laid together in bed afterward, him barely awake and cuddled up under her arm with his neck coiled between her breasts, she wondered what the others at the bar would have thought about watching them fuck. A chubby older woman, a weird-ass ostrich, both of them moaning and bumping together over and over again? It probably would have weirded some of 'em out.

But would it, though, she wondered? She tried imagining what they must have looked like. The feathers that he had would have been a hell of a visual spectacle, and she knew for a fucking fact that she had a jiggle that was not too big to be gross and just enough to be pretty damn sexy. Might have needed a few different positions to really show off, sure, but that didn't mean that anything she'd done was ugly.

Oliver? Bit of an acquired taste, both visually and otherwise, but hell, he was trying hard. And she imagined that there'd be some that liked the idea of some exotic 'meat' being used in front of them.

The more she thought about it, the more she wished she'd just gone to hell with it and fucked then and there at the bar. Couldn't have been more awkward than the crowd fawning over the model.

Then again, she coulda gotten arrested, too. Not something that she wanted to repeat just yet.

Still, the idea of putting on a show of some kind just didn't want to go away. She thought about it for a bit longer, and an idea slowly began coming together. Without the booze haze to hold it back, it was definitely one of her better ideas.

"Heh...Hey. Hey, Oliver. Lemme up."

"Hnnngh?"

"Lemme up, kid," she said, patting his head. He slowly undid himself from her chest, and she sat up. "Where are my pants?"

"You left them in the living room. Just before -"

"Sitting on your face. Right."

She remembered that now. That was the hazier bit, when they first arrived, when she was getting all handsy with him and horny as fuck. He'd been a little bit nervous, but he'd had his hands all over her ass. She would have thought a bird would be more of a breeder, but hey, took all sorts.

Making her naked way to the living room, she pulled her phone from her pocket. Double-checking its charge level, she flicked through a couple of apps, checking her bank balance, her personal inventory (always good to have a checklist of what she carried), how much it'd cost to rent a couple of adjoining rooms at the hotel, and nodded to herself.

Looked like she'd have just about enough to carry this off.

"Hey, Oliver!"

"Mmmph...what? Can't we cuddle?"

"In a minute. What do you say to helping me set up a photoshoot?"

"Mmmph..."

"Seriously. Naked photoshoot. Kink stuff. Getting laid. What do you think?"

The ostrich didn't answer right away. Instead, she heard shuffling from behind, then saw a head poking out from the bedroom. His eyes were baggy, he looked exhausted, but at the same time, more than a little curious.

"I've got to be hearing things. Did you say -"

"Naked photoshoot. You, me, and whoever else I can invite down that's not one of those models."

"..."

"Heh, I'll take the staring as a yes."

It wouldn't take long to find someone else. Even people in her age bracket were savvy enough to start putting out ads online these days, and she could always go down and do a quick trawl for a different sort of audience. She knew that most people would be looking for someone younger than them, but in the current climate, beggars couldn't be choosers, and they'd go for whatever got them laid.

Time to start showing everyone that we're not out of the game just yet...

After getting responses from six different personal ads and hitting up three other bars, she had the cast and crew that she wanted for this shoot. Mostly cast; crew would consist of herself, Oliver, and an elderly, graying-to-the-point-of-white poodle named Pearl that wanted to have a chance to get a little thrill in her life again. Stately old bitch, that one, and one that was more than willing to help bankroll the whole thing.

The hotel was more than slightly confused at her demands, but considering that she laid down a cash payment of $2k - most of her advance - they didn't push her on it. They just took it and went with it.

Vera was still setting up the backdrop on the three walls on the sides and head of the bed when the first knock came. She smiled, nodding at Oliver.

"Well, let 'em in," she said.

"You're sure that's them?"

"Pretty darn. That or staff, and I don't care if staff sees me like this."

The ostrich blushed, but did as he was told. He'd kept himself in a pair of boxers, not used to being naked, and probably not ready to be around so many people that were about to strip down. She shrugged, not at all bothered by her own state of undress. It wasn't the first time that she'd be naked on camera, and she seriously doubted that it would be the last.

As he opened the door, the first guest - an orca - stepped inside. He belied the traditional sort of look that orcas had. While he kept the broad shoulders and tall build, he had clearly allowed himself to get a little too deep into a hedonistic lifestyle. His gut made him look like he was at least in his fifties, a sort of dad-bod that had lost some of the muscles and become something softer, with a pretty face that didn't really lend itself to a dominant look. She knew from his photos that he wasn't packing much down there, either, with a bit of a micro-penis that made him look like he had a clit down there with his paunch rather than an actual cock for fucking.

His name was Verner, no other name on the profile, and he'd been looking for tops, those that would like someone a bit bigger to play with. From the looks of things, he hadn't had an answer for months.

He was the first, and behind him was a conga line of other people that didn't fit the mold of typical partners. He just happened to be the first line.

Then there was a seal that had no breasts, looking almost like an inflatable clown with her only curves bulging at her hips.

Behind her came a Leonburger, a canine so thick with fluff that he almost didn't have eyes, and who seemed to have forgone clothes entirely.

And so it continued, either with species that had been completely sidelined by other, more mainstream looks, or some like Verner that had a body-type that didn't appeal to the masses compared to the easy-attraction that came from the models wandering through town. All told, Vera had a total of twelve models to work with. She smiled to herself, one hand on her hip as they all froze as they walked in, seeing her in the buff and not giving two shits about it.

"Welcome to the shoot, everyone. Thanks in advance for your time."

"...Uh...you're...you're serious, then?" Verner asked, his cheeks burning.

"Yep. We're here to get some good shots for this little project." She looked back and forth among the assembled 'cast'. "Gotta say, I didn't think we'd do this good."

Some smiled, some looked away. Most of them blushed. All for the good, she decided. She looked at Verner first, curling her finger.

"Come here. You said that you were looking for a top, right?"

"Well, kinda...yeah..."

"Well, you're not gonna get that by showing weird-angled shots of your ass, or trying to hide everything."

The orca rubbed the back of his head. He was on the verge of walking out, she knew. Vera whistled.

"Oliver!"

The ostrich ran over. She grabbed him by the wrist and slapped his hand down on that big ass. Verner jumped, Oliver turned as red as an ostrich could get, and Vera chuckled.

"Verner, trust me on this. Looking at you, I can see four good angles to sell you as a partner to someone without even trying. Once you get naked, it'll get even easier. And Oliver - sorry, I didn't ask. Straight or bi?"

"Um...I...didn't know, but..."

"Well, judging by the way that you're squishing his ass, you're ass-sexual, at the very least. So, Verner, let's get you out of those clothes and start taking pictures, huh? And hey, the rest of you. Same deal. Get out of those clothes, get yourselves ready. We got one night to do this right, and if you want to get some fun in, we're gonna need to do this right the first time." The black bear hefted her camera. "Let's get started."

_Verner went first. He tried to get down on all fours first, only for Vera to stop him.

"No, no, that just bunches up everything in the legs. You want something to show off the curves, the heft, the softness. The minute you go stiff, everything goes wrong. Relax, try and imagine floating in the sea."

He tried, not quite successfully. In the end, she had the Leonberger come over, the experienced canine taking his time to gently tease the orca into a better position. Soft pets, little mutters, half-meant flirtations: it all worked to get the big guy to calm down and feel better on the bed._

She positioned him with one leg out, the other up, something that made his ass and size clear, but more flattering. Click, click went her camera, both from positions looking down on him, and others from below that showed the sweetness of his face.

She had him spread his legs, and his profile picture hadn't lied. He had little to work with, little more than the end of one pinkie finger. With the way that his weight worked, it made him look like he had a slit down there, the rest of his cock hidden inside, and the little head poking out.

But with the proper hand placement, with a little pressure on the top and back, he looked like a man. A man waiting to be fucked, yes, but one that owned it, that said 'I am soft, and I can take you.'

Pearl was eager for her turn, the graying poodle leaping for the bed. Aside from a little tug at her chest and the slight fading of her breast size, her age showed itself in the tightness of her limbs rather than the sag that one would find in other models. She had the smile and slight droop in the face that came to all canines when they reached later age, but that didn't matter. As soon as she'd seen the transformation that Verner had gone through, she wanted to experience the same thing.

Vera went to work, even going so far as to give the aging canine a few deep licks - with permission - between her legs. Not a bad taste, really. A little dull compared to a younger woman (some things did not get stronger and better with age) but certainly not a bad taste.

In all honesty, it took almost nothing to get good shots of the poodle. She had a grace to her, an austerity that took old-style classy and blended it with modern trashy. She had no shame in spreading her legs, and she had that calm smile that showed that she was ready for what the boys could send her way.

Would anyone have guessed that she was nearing her sixties? Perhaps, but not from that smile, or the way that she posed. It was all in the little wrinkles, and as they posed and played, they got easier and easier to ignore.

The Leonberger, fluffy as he was, ended up having almost nothing underneath all that hair. He felt like a twig to the bear as she pulled him to the bed, and the slight confidence that he had when he was teasing Verner all but disappeared.

"Everyone thinks its bigger than it is. All this fur..."

"Come on. It's in the attitude," Vera said, chuckling. "And that can be part of the fun."

And indeed, that turned out to be the case. The black bear dragged him back to the bed, posing him one way, then another, and another, each time with his hands posed slightly differently. Here, there, along his thighs, his hips, always teasing a potential outline of a cock that refused to pop out. She gave him plenty to work with, too, going so far as to rub herself, to use her own chubby body as a model to inspire him and show off what he could be getting later.

He was hard, alright, but he was perfect as a tease. Hell, even he had a hard time finding it sometimes, and he managed to get a real grin on his face, giggling through the fluff of brown and near-black that fell across his body.

"Heh...heh...it tickles," he said.

"What does?"

"Every time I move, my hard-on gets tickled by my fur."

"Heh, just don't get a hair trigger, big guy."

He didn't. Verner, however, was quick to snag him as he finished, the two of them heading to another room for some fun.

#

And so it went. Sometimes she worked with bigger guys, sometimes with little ones too skinny and small to really get the attention of their better-built friends. Sometimes the other person was old, suffering from some kind of lack of confidence, and other times they were just dealing with a bit of an odd condition that made them less than stereotypically attractive.

But there was always something. Some quirk, some little thing that could bring out the fun.

A guy had ED? Then she played with it, showing the fun that could be had with a flaccid thing. She even got up on the bed herself, using her camera for 'selfies' that showed how much she enjoyed the big thing on her face.

A woman couldn't get wet? She showed them how much fun it was to overload with the lube, to be filled to bursting with it, to effectively turn the bed into a slip and slide.

Two wasn't enough? Why not have three? Or four? They stopped at five to keep from breaking the beds, but she saw the looks that went between her cast. They were already planning on how to try this again.

And the camera never stopped clicking. Whether they were doing individual poses, sex shots, or even going into orgy at the end, the camera never stopped clicking.

Morning arrived with all of them naked, and most of them still sorting through how they'd done what they did. Vera blamed most of it on desperation on all their parts, though with a hint of something more for some of them. She spotted Verner and the Leonberger - ironically enough, named Leon - heading for the door together, and she smiled despite herself. Hadn't been intending to set people up for matchmaking, but she supposed that it was going to be a thing when you ended up bumping uglies together during an icebreaker.

She leaned back, feeling Pearl's muzzle between her legs and a certain feathery ass just behind her head. They'd fallen asleep on the floor to spare themselves the cost of another broken bed, but it wasn't that bad when there were warm bodies everywhere. She reached under her head, found Oliver's morning wood, and gave it a few teasing strokes. He groaned, lifting his head up to look back at her.

"Mmph...morning already?"

"Yep."

"Mmmph...not hungry...wanna sleep..."

"Come on. You saying that you don't owe me just a little for getting you laid like you did last night?"

"Nnnngh." He flapped one arm irritably. "Sleepy."

"Get me breakfast and we'll call it even."

"Nnnngh."

"Oooor you can stay there and see if Joe comes back with all that newfound confidence. He might not have brought a strap-on, but the things he can do with that trunk..."

"...How do you like your eggs?"

"Over-easy, thanks." She patted his ass. "And when you get back, I'll give you something else."

"You're spoiling me."

"Kid, I've spoiled all of you." She chuckled. "Now, just remember that when I pass around the release forms for the book later."

The End

Summary: Vera: journalist, photographer, and honestly quite a perv in her own right. Enjoy this little story to introduce some of what she does.

Tags: M/F, F/F, Cunnilingus, Oral, Blowjob, Masturbation, Photography, Exhibitionism, Voyeurism, Atypical, Bear, Ostrich, Black Bear, Vera, Poodle, Age Difference, Orca, Bottom, Wholesome, Femdom, M/M,