FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

Your sleep is fitful, and you dream of what your life was even just a few days ago. Living with her, she gave your life meaning. Each time you see her in your dreams, she slips through your fingers and disappears into the fog again. Like she did when she fled to the forbidden woods. By the time you wake your captor is moving around their home, changing the contents of piles while talking to themselves. It is a few more minutes before they realize you are awake. "Make yourself useful, start sorting through the rest of the furs. Anything burned, or with the bitter stench of that oaf Gorlom, haul out and off the edge." Even from your back, you see the pile is taller than the dragon standing before you. To call the task daunting is an understatement, even the lighter of the pelts and furs are weighty for you. It's been a very long day since you last had food and your stomach rumbles along to that realization. The entrance to the cavern is a long way to pull the trashed furs, so you start by climbing on top of the pile and working out the matted furs at the summit. As you get into the pile though, some of them have become mildewed, and have a quite bitter aroma. You let your mind wander while you un-work and toss the furs; "How often does a dragon eat? Taking a sacrifice from your village twice a year certainly couldn't sate a beast of that size and power, could it?" Though you quickly realize that almost nothing from inside this horde could have come from your village. Or any one village, at any real speed. Your mind continues to wander while you work; "Surly the beasts are long lived, with as much gross power as any one seems to possess." Your mind is pulled back from pondering the nature of dragons by the outright stench coming from the next layer of animal skins you uncover.

Hunger and the smell combine, and you reel back far enough to get a gulp of relatively unbefouled air. Dragging yourself to the makeshift trash pile you are assembling, you sit on some of the merely burned pieces. Your mind wanders again, this time to what to fill your stomach with. The dragon very obviously doesn't maintain a flock of animals or tend a field in here. Could there be something to eat in the piles? Adventurers packs with dried foods? Offerings from other villages that haven't spoiled? Your mouth waters and the growling of your stomach sounds like it could echo off the walls if you only opened your mouth. The dragon periodically peeks around from one pile or another and soon notices your labors have stopped, they appear before you to see why. You defend your actions. "I am hungry, and have a great thirst now. I haven't had a meal in two days." Silently worrying that means your usefulness has come to an end. The dragon leaps into the air, and behind the piles of hoarded items. A few moments later part of a burnt sheep carcass lands on the ground near you and rolls to a stop by the pile of damaged furs. While the outside of what remains of the sheep is charred, you stomach rolling it over and find that some of the inner meat hasn't been cooked past edibility. The sheep was evidently rent asunder and likely the other half was already eaten. The meat is a few days cold, and somewhat tougher for it, but you are still able to get it down. You fill as much of your belly as you can, and the dry meat fills you with strength again. As you sit and let the energy seep back into your muscles, the dragon lands before you again. "The frailties of your kind are myriad, eating and drinking every cycle of the sun. There is a trickle of water that flows into here," the dragon points to behind a pile not far from where you are working. "I grant you access to my water for now. Continue laboring once you are sated though, you have much more to do today." They wave a forelimb back as the pile of furs. Standing, you circle behind the nest of furs and pelts, and past a slowly rusting pile of metal parts. Weapons, armors, and indescribable bits; all damaged or disintegrating and piled almost fifteen feet high.

Behind that though, as the dragon said, is a small rivulet of water running down the wall of the cave. You had hoped the dragon's idea of a trickle was somewhat greater but it's enough for you to get several handfuls of the crisp and cool water. If it wasn't for your current predicament, you would be verging on feeling well. That was honestly the most meat you have eaten at once in as long as you can remember, and the clean water after gives you ideas for bathing later. Returning to the task you were given, you find that the damaged pelts are easier to work with. As you move deeper yet into the pile, the furs have started to molder. You fear that a good deal of this makeshift bedding must be moved, judging by what you see now. The idea that there might not be enough for the dragon to sleep on quickly flashes into your head. You dismiss it as so far away from what you should be worrying about, it seems almost comical to even think of it. Returning to the pile, you knock loose a sizable portion of the pile and decide to start removing the ruined furs. You keep count as you throw the ruined pelts off the side of the dragon's roost. Your initial burst of energy wears off before you get to ten and that takes you almost two hours of hard work. By the time you reach twenty three the sun is starting to go down. It's tiring work, and your muscles burn. Your throat feels parched now, and you pass the trash pile to have another long drink of water. The dragon eyes you as you pass them, but says nothing. The top of the pile is about even with the dragon's head now. You feel pretty sure it will take a week to get the whole pile out. The water is just as refreshing as it was before, and you take the opportunity to wash your face, the chill of the water perks you up a little. You remove another three of the unwanted furs before the dragon says you may rest.

They point to the sheep from this morning, and you pull off more before you return to the water source in the far side of the cavern. You sit next to the falling water and drink handfuls of it to wash down mouthfuls of the dry sheep. After you finish your meal, you pull off your clothes and splash yourself with water. It passes for a pretty fair approximation of a bath and the cool water soothes the dull aches in your muscles and perks your nipples up. If you were less tired, you might spend some extra minutes out here. As tired as you feel now though, you pick back up your clothing and walk back to the dragon. In the time you took to eat and bathe, the dragon has shifted the bedding around, placing the best of the pelts on top again. The dragon is already reclining on the pile, though you don't know if they are asleep or not. You find a comfortable enough patch on the pile of bedding and try to drift off to sleep. The dragon rolls you over with a swipe, and pushes your face into the furs with a clawed hand. The dragon moves their mass over you, your heart races the dragon is far too big to not horribly hurt you. You bite your lip hard and squeeze your eyes closed. Instead the dragon's clawed hand shifts on your head, and you feel their humanoid form pressing down on you. They pull your dress up, and unceremoniously pushes into you. You squeak in surprise, the dragon's member filling your unsuspecting hole. You struggle to turn your head, fighting for air unfiltered though moldy furs. The dragon makes an inhuman snort at your efforts and their other hand rakes down your side. Their hips slam on your ass now, pushing you into the makeshift bed.

They grab you by the shoulders now, and you gulp down air. With both hands, the dragon pulls you onto the full length of their members. You cry out in pain this time, and the dragon whispers "Relax yourself, or I'll just split you open." They continue pounding into you, with no more regard to the noises you make. Your girlcock stiffens from the rough fucking, and you pull one of your hands under you, and guide your parts into it. The force of the dragon's fucking slides your member along the length of your palm easily. With just as much warning as they started with, the dragon pulls you hard to the base of their member, before filling you with enough seed that you feel rather full. You muster a few more jerks of your hand, and spurt out a diminutive amount onto your dress. The dragon done with you for now, you curl back up and soon fall asleep. A gentle stream of light shines in across your face, awakening you. You are in your bed, and she is sitting at the table. You throw the blanket off, and walk towards her, as she moves to the door of the small cabin. You pass the table, with a single place setting made, and she turns to smile at you. The door opens outward by some unknown force, and she starts to float away from you. You reach the cabin door, and stretch your arm out towards her. Dark clouds gather in the sky, blotting out the sun. The forbidden woods loom menacingly behind, a dense fog oozing forth, tendrils of it reaching for her as she recedes into the distance, an arm outstretched for your own. You cry out her name, as an empty void opens up between the two of you; the woods and fog devouring her.

"Awaken!" The dragon says with some force. Sun streams in from the mouth of the dragon's nest, giving you a startle as last night's dream fades from memory. "I must go today to receive tribute from a much farther away city than your own. I shall decide what to do before I return. Continue your task and if you finish before I return, you may wander through my home as you wish. If you don't finish, I may well find a different use for you. I am sure that you will find something to sup upon if you look as well, intruders do love to be overly prepared. It will be a number of days before I return." With that, you watch as the dragon takes wing and flies off into the sky. You see they ate most of the remains of the sheep, leaving you a piece of flank still attached to the bone. Honestly you aren't even sure that they meant you leave you breakfast, but you take the food off to eat next to the water. You make a note to look through the piles before your next meal and see if you can find a waterskin or some such, -walking the full trip for water each time you need some feels foolish. You walk to the edge of the roost, and take in the full view of the forest below. Having time to yourself now, you can appreciate the situation. Stay here, under constant threat of being eaten, or risk the dangers of the forbidden woods. Looking down the cliff face again you see trees far below and, somewhere out of view, you know there is a small pile of rotting pelts. While you are initially disheartened by the sight of tree tops, you notice that the face of the mountain is slanted enough that maybe, you could climb down. It would be dangerous, and if you slipped, you would die painfully. The dragon has threatened you with that more than once already. And a new tribute, you don't want to have to compete with someone each day to see who warms the outside and who the inside of the dragon. You walk back into the dragon's horde and start to look for anything that would be useful in going down, or after getting down, the mountain.

Wandering through the heaps of what the dragon calls 'tribute' you find a leaning pile of packs, satchel, pouches and other assorted leather containers. Much like the furs many of them are falling apart or outright rotting, though to your surprise, they haven't been emptied. Antique hardtack that crumbles to dust when you try to pull off a piece, and slightly moist moldy lumps make up the most common finds. A modestly sized wineskin, the contents of which have turned to sour vinegar, is the first thing you actually want to keep. After a good rinse you can carry at least two days of water in it. Off to the edge of the pile there is a leather sack on a straw-rope belt. Upon seeing that the belt hasn't rotted to uselessness, you quickly dump out the contents of the bag. Half a loaf of hardtack lands with a solid thump, next to a fist sized lump of smoked meat. Some folded papers, a few coins of non-precious metal, and a small knife make up the rest of what was in the bag. The smoked meat only has a small patch of mold and you easily trim it away with the knife. A bite of the hardtack tells you it's about as fresh as hardtack gets. You pack the bag back up, and tie the belt around your waist. Between this lucky find and the skin full of vinegar you can't think of much else you could want other than the rope you would need, in order to descend to the forest below. You get your hopes up a couple times, finding coils of rope in some of the larger packs. But you find that they have either gone brittle with age, or have rotted from contact with mold.

Much like with the pelts in the bed, the packs and bags are only older the deeper you dig. You give up before you can reach whatever horrible moldy core the oldest bags have congealed into, having taken the choicest items. Uncorking the wineskin again, you tip it out as you continue to walk through the piles. The tart odor of the vinegar cleanses your nostrils as you make your way to the water. It takes several rinses and a lot of vigorous shaking to clean your new waterskin, but with a bit of hard work you can sip clean-enough water from it. That necessary job finished, you return to your search for a rope. You make a grim discovery off in a dim corner of the cavern. A skeleton curled up, bits of worked leather still cover parts of the unfortunate person. Between the leather pack, the broken weapon, and the even more broken leg, this must have been an intruder that the dragon had mentioned. Coiled up, and hanging from a loop on the back of the leather pack, is a solid length of rope. It doesn't break as you undo its strap and you find it's still flexible enough to uncoil. Beyond pleased at having everything you can think of, you rush to the entrance of the dragon's cave and start looking for something solid enough to support your trip down the side of the cliff. A small outcropping on the right side of the entrance tolerates your weight, and seems to be solidly attached to the mountain. You loop and tie one end of the rope to the outcropping, then toss the other end down the side of the cliff face.

You watch the rope spiral and unwind until it reaches the tree line and exits your sight. Tightening your belt once more, and double checking that your waterskin won't tumble away you take one last look down the side. You hope that the rope is long enough, otherwise you might still not survive the landing. Squeezing the rope as hard as you can, you step out over the edge. You instantly regret this course of action. Keeping your legs stiff on the edge of the cliff, there is just enough of a slope to prevent you from free-falling. The rope started to burn your hands as soon as it started to run through your grip. By the time you can cry out in pain you have zipped past the tree line and a buffet of limbs slows your descent enough that you only land in a wilting pile instead of a broken heap. The ringing in your head starts to clear after a minute, and the intense stinging in your hands jolts you the rest of the way. You roll onto your back and look at the damage done to your hands. The top layer of skin is gone from where your palms and fingers had held the rope. You can move your fingers somewhat, but it's painful to do so. After a deep breath, you force yourself to your knees and look around where you landed. The rope dangles a good fifteen feet above you, and both the pack and your waterskin landed near you. You realize how lucky you are to not have broken a limb. Just as lucky, the waterskin survived the landing without breaking. Sitting next to the skin, you bring the cork to your mouth using the sides of your hands.

The still slightly vinegar smelling water runs over your rope burns. You clean the wounds as best you can, and re-cork the waterskin. About two thirds of the water is left in it. You'll need to find more soon, but this can last you to tomorrow morning still. Your hands still ache painfully, but if you can keep them clean over the next day or two you think you will be alright. With nothing left to do here, you work the rope belt back on, and sling the waterskin around a shoulder before trudging away from the cliff face. Your legs tremble some as you walk, both the scare of descending and the bad landing still have you shaken. As you force yourself to take deep, calming breaths, the muscles in your legs loosen and you no longer feel like you might fall with each step. Only now do you realize you don't have any place to actually walk to. You certainly can't just return home, they fully expect you to be dead. Without her it isn't home anyway. Hopefully she found some haven, past the woods. You shake the thought away before you start to cry, you can think about where to go when you find someplace to refill your waterskin. Until then, it's just a waste of effort. A chill runs down your spine, but you aren't sure why. It's warmer than you expected a thick forest to be, and no winds are blowing through the tangle of trunks. The sun's light shines through the canopy in diffused rays, making it difficult to see all the roots and fallen branches on the ground. You skip and stumble more than once as a foot gets caught.

As slow as you are moving, you only snag what is left of your clothing occasionally. You take a break sitting on a fallen tree, and think about how to explain yourself. The forest has to have an end somewhere. Other towns must exist, past it's edges. Maybe someone will believe you were kidnapped and escaped? Ambushed by bandits? You slowly break off a piece of the hardtack, your hand gently weeping as you do so. The hard bread tastes slightly musty and is difficult to chew. It hasn't turned though, and that is the important part. You wash the mouthful down with some of your water. Your hands ache enough from the effort, you decide to hold off on cutting a piece of the meat off until later. Feeling somewhat energized again, you decide to go with 'Ambushed by bandits and ran into the forest' if you make it out of here. You continue through the forbidden woods as the day slowly continues. The problem of what to do once night sets in crosses your mind. You can't exactly make a torch, or clear space for a fire. Actually you aren't sure you even could light a fire with your hands tonight. A slight breeze catches your notice as you think about your newest pressing need. It's the first time you've felt a twist of wind all day. You start to hope that you've made is near to the edge of the woods. The sun continues to set, and eventually the moon's pale light replaces it. You are forced to follow the wind by its gentle feel upon your face. Gradually, you realize there are fewer trees in the way as the silvery glow of the moon increases in intensity.

The trees open up and you see a patch of cloudless sky over a lake. Stumbling again as you approach the lake, you trip and land face first. Rolling onto your back with a groan, you start to sit up as you did after descending the dragon's den. Much to your surprise, you see her standing over you. She left the night before you, and you had given up on ever seeing her again. Instead she is standing over you, and takes one of your outstretched hands. You expected an agonizing pain when her hand touched yours, but her hand is cool, and soothing to the touch as she effortlessly helps you up. She looks you in the eyes and holds your hands in her own, you lean in and kiss her. Her fingers interlace with yours and she leans into the kiss. Finally, she breaks the kiss and releases your hands. You look down at them, and the burns are gone. Making fists, you find you can easily move your fingers again. You look at her, and take a step back. She raises a finger to her lips before taking your hand again, and pulling you towards the lake. She leads you down the gentle slope and on top of the embankment of the lake. The lake reflects the moon's glow, and somewhere a wind is blowing over the lake, sending ripples across the surface. While you are gazing at the lake, she has taken off the dress she was wearing and tugs your hand from her seat on the ground. You waste no time tossing aside your waterskin, undoing the rope belt, and pulling off the rags of your clothing and joining her by the edge of the lake.

Her hair tumbles past her shoulders now, her soft curves inviting your hands. She meets your lips in another kiss, before guiding you to your back. You relax as her familiar weight presses down on you again. She pulls away, and you spread your legs for her. Her girldick is already hard, and glistens silver in the moonlight from her pre. She draws her hips to yours as she slides into you, her hands holding you in place. Her hips pull back, and push towards you with a slow rhythm. Your own member stirs as she fills you with hers. Her hand slides gracefully from your hip to your girlprick and she strokes it against her fingers with her thumb. You are soon as hard as she is, and her hips are now slapping against you with each push she makes. She leans back and her breasts jiggle as she slams her hips into you. Her hands grab your knees as holds, and she takes long strokes in and out of you. You can feel the heat of your face flushing from her pressing into you. You meet her gaze and she licks her lips, as she squeezes your knees again. She speeds up, and each thrust now waves your girldick in the air. She grins and leans forward again, her nipples brush yours and she kisses you once more. Her hands finds your own and your fingers interlock, as before she pins your hands to the ground. The friction from her stomach draws a thin layer of your own juices as your girldick rubs on her; her member feels as if it has gotten even larger since starting, and you feel dizzy from the stimulation.

Her cool body presses down, keeping you in place. Both of your bodies both work your hard girlcock now as well, and trapped, you let out a groan, trembling under her. Your eyes roll into the back of your head as a burning fire of pleasure builds deep in you. Her body ripples along your member and finally, you let loose a squirt of cum between the two of you. She kisses you again, and her tongue dances across yours. It tickles and wraps and teases your tongue, before reaching deeper into your mouth. You struggle for air, and try to break the kiss but she pins you to the ground. You cough, her tongue still in your mouth, and you see her hand is melting around your hand. You're gagging now as her tongue grows in your mouth, and you are having a problem breathing. Struggling harder, you see she has turned opaque and goo-like. With a mighty effort, you push her to the side. She lands with a ripple, but instead of standing up, she recoils away and out of you. She coalesces into a puddle before reaching her mass back up and reforming as her again. Behind her, you see the lake now is rippling unnaturally, with tendrils reaching out from it. Your hand finds the bits of clothing you had, and you run from the lake of goo. Shielding your face with your hands you flee back into the woods in a wild abandon, just wanting to get away from that terror.

Running until the point of exhaustion, you slow to a panicked walk hours later. You have no idea what direction you are going now, and before long the silver moon light gives way to the golden sun light. Now you realize you are clutching the last shreds of your clothing, you put them back on without even thinking. Then you remember your hands, and hold them out to a bit of light. The burns still glisten silver in the light, and your heart races. What is this, what's going to happen? Your head fills with questions you lack answers to. Now your stomach adds to the worry, for you lost the pack of hardtack and your waterskin. With no other option, you push onward; as hungry and as tired as you feel now, you can't stop moving. You are able to force yourself to walk until almost noon. Then, you just can't force one foot in front of the other anymore. The thick woods offers lots of shade, and you quickly find a spot to sit and rest. Curling up in the shade, you rest your head on your elbow and close your eyes; hoping sleep overtakes you quickly.

You are startled awake, some time later in the day by a slow drumming on your forehead. After realizing that she hasn't tracked you through the forest, you see the source of the drip is a vine hanging over your head. Your head spins as you push yourself up to a sitting position. You wipe some of the liquid off your forehead, then raise your palm to sniff. It smells almost as sweet as honey, and you can't help but give it a taste. It's cloyingly sweet, but your stomach doesn't care. It wants more. Still dizzy, you slowly stand. The vine is just within reach, and is easily pulled to your face. Giving the end of the vine a squeeze, some of the juices splash you in the face. You immediately start to try to lick it off your own face, succeeding in getting some of the liquid into your mouth. You put the end of the vine into your mouth, then give the vine another hard squeeze. This time, all of the vine's juices make it into you. Not only is it filling your stomach, your girlprick is getting hard once more! With one hand to hold the vine in your mouth, you are free to play with yourself using your other hand. Sucking and slurping at the vine, it isn't long until you absentmindedly fire a bit of your girlseed at the roots of the plant.

Now you realize that the vine in your mouth isn't the only vine on the plant. Two of them have snaked around your ankles, and two more snap about your midsection. In moments you are up in the air, and the vine you were sucking on dangles just out of your reach. You wiggle and strain, if you can just stretch a little more, you can have it back in your mouth. As your finger brushes the vine though, it snaps around your wrist. Your captured arm is forced behind your back, and a vine wraps around your free arm, still weakly jerking your member. Now, with both arms behind your back, you can do little more than hang in the plant while your hard girlcock throbs. Something presses into your rear, another vine, and it begins rubbing inside of you. A bead of drool slips down your lip, the vine worming around inside of you. Somehow, the vine knows where to press in you, ripples of warm pleasure echo in you once more. You groan softly, And as you dangle in the air, a pressure begins to grow both between your legs and in your chest. Your breasts look fuller now and your nipples are swelling, while between your legs your scrotum presses forward and sticks out. A pair of the vines wraps around your breasts now, and the tips tickle and tease your nipples. Small beads of milk soon form, and drip from your breasts to the ground. Finally, another vine dangles by your mouth. Impulsively you work it into your mouth, the sweet liquid pumping itself into you.

Completely restrained by the plant now, you dangle several feet off the ground. The vines continue to play with your breasts, as they continue to swell in size. One vine wraps gently around your swollen balls, rubbing its oozing end back and forth on them, and one has begun to pump your tired shaft. A weak, drooling mess now, all you can do, all you can think of doing, is suck down the juices the plant forces into your mouth, while the rest of your body starts to change to fit the needs of the plant.