FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

The sun is shining. The breeze is gentle. The long grass tickles the fur of Krystal's bare legs.

She walks slowly, unhurried, admiring the details. The patterns on the tree-trunks, the far-off chirps of birds and other small creatures. It's so much like other forests she's known. At least to the untrained eye.

Krystal leans lightly against a tree, feeling the sunlight against her fur. The typical outfit of her youth - some scant fabric on her chest, a loincloth, and many golden bangles - lets her fully enjoy the sensation. No staff, though. She's armed only with her senses.

Her ear twitches.

There's a lot of noises in a forest. It could be anything. So she turns to it slowly, her movements relaxed. She listens intently. Employs her nose, too, not that it reports much.

The trees are silent.

Krystal lets out the breath she had been holding. She'll move on. Perhaps she'll find a stream nearby - she could peel off her outfit and enjoy a quick soak. That would be-

Her ear flicks again. Heart-rate rising, she turns, then turns again. She stays light on her feet, trying to pinpoint where the noise is coming from.

She can't. But she knows it's getting closer. Bearing down on her.

Instincts tell her to just run, but that's a bad idea with incomplete information. Dangerous to show your back to an unknown predator. But she can't stay here, either, an unmoving target. She has to do something, and fast. Otherwise-

Otherwise, something will grab her. And it does.

Her gaze was too high, seeking out threats of her own approximate height. Oblivious to the vine that snaked through the grass. Now, with a strength belied by its thinness, it has a firm, possessive grip on her ankle. Krystal has to suppress a shiver.

She reacts quickly, bending down to tug at it with both hands. Her neat black claws find no purchase on its smooth green surface. She keeps fighting it, feeling an instinctive panic rise in her body. Something has grabbed her, and won't let go, and can't be made to let go. Primal fear.

But her ordeal is only beginning. It was not a smart idea to bend over.

When she feels something touching her waist, she can't suppress a vulpine yip. Another, thicker tentacle, this one wrapping around her torso. She abandons the one at her ankle, trying to turn all her strength into fighting off this new attacker.

But this thing doesn't just have long, strong vines. It also has a vicious sense of tactics. When she turned her attention to her ankle, it went for her waist. Now that she's focusing on her waist, it goes for her shoulders. Two more vines shoot toward her, one for each arm, and the struggle is short-lived. They slide decisively along her limbs to wrap around her wrists, then tug firmly in different directions.

Krystal is now almost fully restrained. All the lean muscle in her body is completely useless. This time she can't hold back the shiver.

The first, thin vine releases her, now that its work is done. With a sudden motion, she's snatched off the forest floor. Leaves and branches blur past in what proves to be a fast, short trip. Krystal soon finds herself in a shadowy nook somewhere in the treeline. She can't see the full scope of her kidnapper, but it's obvious she's been brought to its home.

She kicks out while she can, but it's a useless, almost comical action - she's still high in the air, suspended a little ways above a layer of foliage that obscures the ground below. A privacy screen of sorts. Not that there's anyone who would see her, or come to help. She's completely alone in here, except for her new 'friend'.

Two more vines approach her legs, slow and careful. They wait until the right moment, just when her struggling is getting tired and clumsy. Then they strike. Just like her wrists, her ankles are soon inescapably bound. Whatever this plant is made of, it's as unyielding as steel.

The four vines tug at her until she's spreadeagled in mid-air, her body a vulnerable X. The thick vine around her waist, leisurely slow, ruffles her fur as it unravels. Its tight grip on her core is no longer necessary, but it doesn't stray far. The ordeal is only beginning.

Krystal squirms. She tests her bonds, but she can barely rotate her hands and feet, and the power in these vines dwarfs anything she can summon in this awkward position. Her breath starts to quicken as the situation sets in. Her wide, green eyes scan the leafy ceiling above her, but they're soon drawn to fresh movement. Inevitably, more vines are approaching her body. Inevitably, their tips settle on her fur.

Soon, she's being explored. The creature brushes itself over her, those tentacles tracing her body like the fingertips of a lover. As she feels them caress her arms and legs and paws and face and belly, Krystal knows that's exactly what they are.

They find her scant outfit, and slow. This part is inevitable too. She's hardly wearing a hazmat suit, just her simplest, loosest clothing, and it offers her little protection. One vine worms its way inside her top. Another goes under her waistband. With two firm, simultaneous motions, both are snapped off. She can hear them tumble to the ground below.

She's completely exposed now. Her chest heaves, nipples perking a little in the cool jungle air. And with her legs forcibly parted, there's no hiding her pussy. Blue gives way to white at her inner thigh, which in turn becomes soft, fleshy pink. A secret spot the vines show immediate interest in.

Krystal huffs and squirms, but it's a token effort. There's no stopping what's to come. Slowly, knowing there's nothing she can do, the tentacles close in. She feels them brush her fur. She feels them caress her crotch. When she feels one tip against her clit, she softly whines.

They're so gentle, cautious, delicate. It's almost maddening. The vines settle on her crotch and pull her lips apart, with all the deliberate care of a researcher handling a flower. Watching them over her own heaving chest, she sees one vine isn't moving with the others. Patiently waiting. In the muted light, it seems to be glistening with something. It's also, she notices, thicker.

With both her legs and her pussy lips parted, it moves in. Krystal's voice pitches up as she's finally penetrated.

Like everything else it's been doing (after the lightning-quick battle to catch her), it's a calm, unhurried motion. Inches of plant matter slide inside her, lubricated by the vine's own moisture. It doesn't matter she was barely wet herself yet. Nothing she does matters.

"Fuck... Oh, fuck..." Krystal bites her lip as she feels it going deeper and deeper, so unlike anything else in the galaxy. She's no virgin, not any more. She's been fucked by her fellow mammals, and a few birds, and many, many reptiles. But no animal's cock can match the size, the shape, the sheer unstoppable power of these vines. The thought makes her shiver in place.

The vine doesn't care. Once it fills her to her limit, it pauses. Her walls twitch around it, begging for more, but it's content to leave her in this liminal state for a while.

At least until another vine, coiling lazily around her belly and between her breasts, starts to approach her face.

Krystal abandons all pretense of resistance. "Yes! Yes... Come here...."

It slithers past her collarbone, pulling away from her at the neck to reach for her mouth. Krystal parts her lips and meets it with her tongue, obediently guiding it inside. The tip fills her mouth, and also pauses, giving her time to adjust.

She suckles on it like she's pleasuring a long-lost lover. There's no-one around to hear the soft, wet sounds of her submission. No-one to judge her. Her green eyes flutter closed as she gives herself completely to the moment, unconcerned with anything that isn't the two tentacles filling her body.

She likes to think her docility is pleasing to it, even though she knows deep down that this is an unthinking, unfeeling engine of lust. Responding to the gentle efforts of her tongue, her lips, the second vine begins to fuck her mouth. It's slow at first, and careful, but there's a definite motion there, thrusting back and forth.

When the lower tentacle follows suit, Krystal can't hold back a moan.

This is everything she's ever needed. One vine in her pussy, one in her mouth, and four more ensuring she's going nowhere. Another thought to make her shiver, this time joined by a bucking of her hips. There's nowhere she'd rather be right now.

The vines continue their motions, neither knowing nor caring about her internal feelings. There's no chance of escape, no means for her to prevent it from using her, and that's all that matters. Satisfied she's completely tamed, all the tentacles begin to close in. She feels them explore her tits, her thighs, her belly, even the considerable fluff of her tail. She silently welcomes every new sensation. If nothing else, this new lover of hers is attentive.

The tentacle in her pussy continues its work. The one in her mouth starts getting bolder, probing her limits. Krystal has no objections. She keeps her muzzle open wide, ready to receive it. Through lidded eyes, she watches it sink past her lips. The whimper she offers is so quiet and muffled she barely hears it herself.

The bulk of the vines are cradling her now. They're supporting her weight, which dulls the novel sensation of hanging in mid-air. That's fine. She doesn't want to be distracted from the all-important motions between her legs.

Her lover is starting to speed up, after all.

The vine claiming her sensitive crotch is definitely moving faster, giving her the rough sexual experience she craves. Krystal has to actively manage her breathing, inhaling and exhaling through her nose, as one vine continues to dominate her mouth and the other commits to powerful thrusts that test her stamina.

Deep, fast, and hard. There's no comparison to a humanoid lover. Krystal whimpers and whines, a helpless little plaything, but her body tells a different story. The way her pelvic muscles are clenching around the tentacle, her tentacle, makes her feelings clear.

She isn't completely helpless after all. There's still things she can do with her limbs bound. And she starts to thrust her hips, an instinctive reaction to something her body wasn't designed for. It's not like she's riding the dick of a male fox, doing her part to propagate her species. Or maybe, whispers a quiet but powerful part of her psyche, maybe it's exactly like that. Maybe she was snatched up so she could be bred, knocked up, put to good use by this unknown creature-

Krystal lets out a needy moan. Unlike her, it's completely unrestrained, loud despite the thick vine between her lips. She's getting close. This rough treatment is driving her steadily towards orgasm. Every motion of the tentacles makes her pussy twitch harder. She can't do anything and they can do everything and that's exactly how she likes it.

Huffing and trembling, she plays her limited role to the fullest. Fuck-toys don't have responsibilities aside from submission. She's a willing passenger, feeling the pleasure in her body build and build. The creature has claimed her completely, and she savours every second.

The dance builds to its climax. Both tentacles keep fucking her, faster and faster. The rest caress her defenseless body, exploring her curves possessively. When the thick tentacle that captured her earlier wraps around her hanging tail, and tugs on it like a pent-up boyfriend grabbing her hair, Krystal screams in muffled pleasure.

There's no holding back now. Nothing she can do to prevent the inevitable. Faced with such powerful, unstoppable treatment, Krystal shivers and shakes and surrenders to a massive orgasm.

The wave of ecstasy claims her entire body. Her fingers and toes curl. Her bound limbs tremble. Even her eyes roll up, and when the two tentacles both begin to rattle, there's nothing she can do. Nothing she would do.

The creature cums.

Something thick and warm and syrupy floods her welcoming body, pumped in at both ends in heavy, steady loads. The sensation reignites her climax, bringing her right back to the peak of her arousal. Every drop is a gift. She offers a wordless, breathless prayer of thanks.

She would happily stretch out this moment forever, making full use of the creature's seemingly limitless reserves. But just as her own orgasm eventually fades, so too the vine's deluge diminishes until it's just a trickle. Then, not even that.

With a wet noise - and a weak whine of protest from a sweaty vixen - the upper vine slips from her mouth. The lower one moves slower as it retreats. The sticky substance filling Krystal's pussy begins to pool out too, and unable to stop it, she can only enjoy the fleeting sensation.

Really, though, she has no complaints.

Sated and satisfied, Krystal finally catches her breath. The other vines maintain a firm grip on her limbs, as instructed, preparing for a second round. But as good as that sounds, she's more than gotten what she came for. She could bask here a little longer, but...

"Computer," she says. "End program."

She's answered by an artificial chirp. In seconds, the scene fades from view. The forest, the sky, those delightful vines all vanish. Just a featureless grey cube of a room. Hard light can, like its far simpler cousin, be turned on and off at the flick of a switch.

The substance leaking slowly out of her pussy, though, is real. A harmless (and very pleasant) synthetic concoction. Hard light can emulate all kinds of textures, but when it comes to letting something be squirted right into your body... Well. Fluid dynamics are hard to simulate.

Krystal stretches. She doesn't hurry, still enjoying the afterglow. There's only one thing to keep track of, and a lazy glance around locates it. Her clothes lie in a heap next to the entrance. They're broken - that part was no illusion - but she knew that going in. You don't wear expensive clothes when you're swimming, or hiking. The holographic sex chamber is the exact same.

She has a spare outfit stashed next to the door, too. Something to get her between here and the warm bath waiting for her. She lazes around a little, enjoying the feeling of the synthetic plant cum a little longer. But she's almost used up all her time, and sadly, it's time to go. Until her next session.

She cleans herself a little and dresses. The chamber activates some automatic sanitation protocols as she exits. Good thing, too. Krystal clearly used up more time than she realized, if the next customers are waiting right outside in the hallway.

"Oh, hey!"

Faye greets her eagerly. Miyu is right beside her, the lynx's arm casually, almost possessively, wrapped around her girlfriend's shoulder. "Huh. Look who it is."

"Miyu. Faye." Krystal offers a little smile. "You have this suite booked next, do you?"

"Yeah!" The dog's big blue eyes are shining bright. Sweet as ever... thought Krystal can't help that notice that her outfit, and Miyu's, seems quite basic. Disposable, even. "We've been dying to try it out together!"

Sharing a fantasy with your partner. Krystal loves the sound of that, but she's not sure who she'd bring, or where.

Then again, the mental image of Fox McCloud, all bound up and helpless... his handsome little face screwed up in overwhelmed pleasure...

"Are you listening?"

Krystal returns to the conversation with a smooth smile. "Sorry, Miyu. What was that?"

"I said, is this place worth the hype? I know it sounds cool and all, but, well..." Miyu glances to her bubbly partner, and adjusts whatever she was about to say. "...I don't want Faye to be disappointed, is all."

"Well, it depends on what you make of it, I suppose. I have one or two programs I like a lot." Krystal smiles at them both. "But by and large? I think you're in for a very, very fun night."

She leaves them to their own little adventure, idly wondering what the girlfriends will get up to. But her own excursions are done for the night. Krystal happily heads home, dreaming of the long bath she's going to take - all the while walking with a subtle, joyful limp.