FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

Carrying a large, long-tooth chameleon over my shoulder, I have to pass by a rainwine platform to avoid the faster footpaths, a bit unsteady on my feet carrying something about as large as myself.

"Are you working through some frustration recently?" Thei, a big cockatoo look-a-like, asks from behind his bar, the largest provider in the village.

"Hah, nah! The chief's ta' busy with th' new arrivals to yaaynk on tham cute fethas," A drunk at the table slurs, a weasly little brown raptor that fancies himself a threader. "Ya 'otta find ano-tha dick!"

"With the lack of suggestions, I assume you refer to yourself," I sigh. "And considering all the scalepelts you destroy on a regular basis, which is why I must hunt so much of late, I can only imagine you attempt to sew with that needle-dick of yours. I'll pass."

"By Haelthir's blaze, is that true Lait?" Thei demands of the man, leaning forward on his bar.

"Well. I ad-mit. I've been learn-in' to hold mye drink better assah late," He chuckles sheepishly.

"Oh, you need not worry about that anymore. Allow me to remove this distraction from your life," Thei smiles, lumbering up to Lait. "With such hard to acquire work materials, we need you fully alert!

With a little bit of a satisfied chuckle, I keep moving, hearing the conversation behind me as I go.

"Really, I got this!" Lait says, trying to act innocent up until the bigger man deftly snatches the liquor filled bowl from the drunken man along with the urn on the low sitting table. "Baaah! I can go elsewhere, ye knows."

"Right, thanks for reminding me!" Thei says as he tosses the contents of the bowl over the railing and then puts both objects aside before cupping two broad hands to his beak and screeching, "Lait the shambled threader has had enough for the next three moons, I'd say! His duty to the tribe has been found lacking!"

After a moment comes a resounding mixture of a loud call or yop of confirmation from the rest of the six or so rainwine platforms across the village.

"Ya lot can do that?" Lait says incredulously.

"Usually? No. You've just got a reputation at this point. Consider this an intervention."

"Ahh, comm-on now..." Lait begins to grumble as his voice fades into the distance.

Long-tooths are much larger than normal chameleons with a green-yellow coloration when dead. The average villager here is around two or three inches under six foot, and the long-tooths are usually about two thirds of their size. Though, the beasts can get much bigger. They have incredibly strong tongues that reel targets into their fanged teeth, a practical death sentence if they aim for necks, so most are only killed in self defense. However, their pelts are great for armor and our warriors need more with the surge of outsiders of late, so I've taken it upon myself to lead by example and collect at least one every other day.

However, it seems I am alone in this measure. It is rather funny the big strong, bragging warriors will let little me outdo them, but perhaps it's best they stay safe rather than take hunts they're unprepared for. I make my way to Gerrian's slicing hut, smelling his herbs before I even turn the corner to the place where he does his work. Unlike most of the platforms, his is brightly lit with sunlight, the foliage cleared overhead to allow for hung meats to be dried. Several freshly sliced animals are hanging right now, the parts of several more drying along his rack. He hates the smell of raw meat, ironically enough, and the strong scent of spices and incense pervades the place.

The other slicers in particular gave him a lot of trouble for it, up until they noticed many of the carnivorous birds can't stand the smell and won't swoop in for drying meats. Since then, preserving food without salt has gotten a lot easier with the rest following his example. It certainly keeps our gatherers busy to keep the practice viable.

"Hey, if it isn't the Arrows of Paradise!" He grins as I walk forward, quickly finishing chopping up a large reptilian leg before clearing the board so I might set my kill down on it.

I am covered in blood and as are my arrows, a reference to me killing many creatures as of late. Most hunts with long-tooths end this way; they bleed quite a bit after death. Gerrian himself isn't much better, but it suits him in a strange way, a scarred old veteran warrior with a yellow hooked beak and fierce amber eyes, his plumage primarily white with a dark brown torso and yellow skin across his talons.

"You keep coming back like this, so I went and got a water basin. It's all set up for you in the back," He says.

"Oh? I appreciate that, Gerrian," I nod, moving to enter his hut from the side and go into the back where one sits on the floor as promised, along with a cloth.

"It's the least I can do; my chick's armor made from the hide you brought a few weeks ago saved his life yesterday. It was high time I got a second anyways to save me the refilling trips," He continues from the front.

As I set down my bow and quiver and set to scrubbing my plumage of the strangely watery blood, I can't help but notice he added a few floral oils before replying, "It's good to know my efforts have an impact."

"I know the rest of the tribe isn't the kindest to you, especially since you don't even need to work as Yskra's song bird. But every single thing you do is help, and that's more than a lot of them can say past self-sufficiency. You're a good egg, Melodous. Don't forget that."

As I look back up at the front, he's already peeled back the long-tooth's scaled hide and sets it carefully aside, returning to carving up the rest of the meat. The flesh itself isn't very good eating, but it's a deadly predator, so of course much of the tribe jump at the chance to consume it. Especially the tongue, once all the mucus has been scrubbed off. I like to slice my own kills, but it's best I refer to his expertise lest I ruin what the beast has to offer.

I dry my plumage with a nearby cloth, carefully folding it back up afterwards. In the water, I can see my reflection, resembling mostly that of a parotia with black, bluesteel feathers across my body and a floral crest of soft quills tipped with vibrant green growing across my head and neck. Along each temple of my skull sprouts three long, thin whiskers a foot in length that end in a plume; like now, I usually have these tied back with a small cloth strip. Across my neck and chest are a layered blossoming of green, yellow, and orange feathers, intermixing in colors and naturally burnished to shine. My beak is black, short and curving gently.

I wear just a tightly bound green sash, the bite of a long-tooth able to pierce most armors anyways. That goes without mentioning the large yellow feather tucked into the quills around my head, marking me as Yskra's. After I'm done, I bid Gerrian farewell with another thanks; any longer and that blood would have been a much bigger pain to scrub away. With that done, I return to my chief's hut. I'm a little surprised to find him gone, but Arra is inside and informs me he is at yet another meeting with an elder.

"He really needs to start ignoring a few of them," I sigh. "They waste his time."

"He's appeasing them. If he listens, they at least don't do anything stupid," Arra shrugs.

She's referring to shortly after Yskra absorbed Robyn's tribe, the Greenwreathed, into his own, the Yskrians, where both tribe elders refused to coexist after generation long tiffs. I've heard that some of their demands were reasonable, but they both wanted segregation of one another. Yskra refused and much of the younger tribespeople simply wanted to move on, so without the support of their kin and unwilling to compromise, the upstart elders left and scattered to the wind. However, many with grievances still stayed and every so often there's flareups of agitation. I myself don't understand what there's still to argue: the strong conquered the weak, and they have done as they see fit.

All in all, it was a very generous arrangement for the Greens to become breeding and pleasure stock for the Yskrians, especially after fighting and killing one another, when all of the alternatives were worse. Evidently, that is also what they chose to be good for, seeing as how woefully they lost after refusing to deliver tribute. Luckily, both cultures are very amorous; casual sex eased tensions that would have been otherwise severe, not to mention provided growth as a whole for the tribe. Robyn instigated the war in the first place, so my pity is limited, but also unwarranted as they've become his willing pleasure toy. As have the rest of the Green people in service to the Yskrians.

Relievingly, the tribe raises children communally if we determine there's enough food to allow hatching of more eggs. Otherwise, eggs, fertilized or not, become another source of nourishment. Thus, I need not play surrogate uncle or father for the rest of the harem that are always in the process of bearing Yskra's. A horrifying thought to consider: both losing my favorite baked goods and having to deal with the featherless homunculi.

"I... suppose so," I scowl. "My tribe, thought it has its issues, doesn't waste time on such ceremony. You either act or accept the word of the matriarchs."

"Oh, relax a bit, Melo!" Arra croons, moving behind me to give my shoulders a rub. "I know things not being cut and dry vexes you. But we're not striving to be perfect at everything we do for the sake of gods or tradition like the Brightwings. We take it slow and easy and only get hard and fast when necessary. That does mean some of our fellows stagnate in their own ways, but overall, we're happier for it. It's a tradeoff, you know?"

"Sure. Sure. Things are different here. I just wish some 'fellows' were more practical."

"Well, that's not going to happen!" Arra says cheerfully and claps me on the back. "Because people are impractical by nature! Now help me water the impractical amount of plants around here!"

"Tch!" I snort. "Fine. Fine. Lift together, and all that."

Orka brought her knowledge of 'pumps' with her from a place far in the northeast, so it is a simple, if rigorous, matter of the two of us pushing a large lever up and down, forcing us to squat up and down repeatedly that have built our cores and legs in way that is conveniently reapplicable to my position in Yskra's harem. Eventually, water comes pouring out of a spigot into a bucket and Arra goes around quickly watering the potted plants while I hold the lever down to maintain 'pressure'. After that, we continue to fill the bucket again and it is her turn to hold the handle pressed downwards.

With several more bucketfulls, the job is done and we both flop down in our conjoined bedroom on cloth bedrolls stuffed with our shed feathers. While the room is comfortable enough and spacious compared to other treehuts, it's quite obvious it belongs to Yskra's harem with a variety of leather straps and ropes hanging from the wall, along with posts, collars, restraints, and several false-dicks cast from crystal-sap that turns to amber after being left in the sun. I prefer a real dick but... they're not half bad when an itch desperately needs scratching and Yskra is preoccupied with the rest of the harem's needs. Or when he wants an audience to watch, in which case my hands and hole are not staying idle.

In the middle of the room is a larger mattress for orgies along with a few swings that can be unhooked from storage in the ceiling for when Yskra brings company. The newcomers, Asogorath and Solar, were tested by Yskra with us to watch and give our analysis. I was honestly quite impressed how well they took him; they must be pleasure servants, friends with benefits, or something else similar to larger partners on the regular. Aso was notably skilled at fellatio and Solar seemed to not be able to get enough of being bent over, to the point I had to step in. The noises that one made when I was inside him, and such soft fur...

Arra glances over at me as I let out a soft twitter, knowing all of the harem well enough she can tell I'm fantasizing.

"Let me guess," She smirks. "You wanted to peg the glow-horned one, right?"

"Gold-fur was cuddlier..." I trail off.

"Awww," Arra coos. "I never took you for the type."

"Well... Yskra never does it. The rest of you don't really use me for more than a quickie."

"Mmm. Yeah. I suppose that's true," Arra muses, rising into a crouch and crawling over to my bedroll.

Next think I know, her arms encircle my neck, and she hugs close to me, small soft breasts squishing against my chest as she moves in closer to gently preen my neck with her legs entwining with mine.

"This better?" She murmurs.

"Yes," I chirp, returning the snuggle and preening a few loose quills out of her crown.

I hadn't realized how tired I am, and I relax into her arms as she runs her talons down my back.

"I never realized how warm you are," She sighs, pushing her head against mine and letting out a deep breath. "Why do you smell like flowers and iron?"

"The shaman created living plants, and someone had to clean up her mess. You should have seen it. They had teeth and the flowers kept screaming even after I cut their heads off," I reply dryly.

"All that and more with a bow, eh?" She notes, giving my bow and quiver set against the wall a dubious look.

"Yes, of course. Master of the bow."

"Well, with all the barbed, spiked, and toothy things you haul back, no one will deny that."

"Except behind my back."

"Because they're jealous. Bask in that. They wish they were more like you."

"Heh. I quite like that idea."

I'm not sure quite when, but drift off into sleep at some point, briefly aware of Arra giving me a small pet on the head some time afterwards as she rises. Trapped in a dream, I'm grappling with a scaled moonstalker, quickly pinned to the floor on my back as its tail rattles and its fanged teeth nip into my neck; a mixture of scales and fur rub against my feathers as it hugs itself around me. I narrowly escaped one a few days ago and it has come back for me, but instead of finishing the job it kicks aside the mere suggestion that is my sash and I briefly see a rigid, deep purple shaft of a serpentine persuasion before it mounts me.

With its jaws on my neck and its weight holding me down, I can only tighten up to stop it from claiming me, but it thrusts forward and easily pierces through my defenses, spreading my hole to make way for its thickness as it delves inside of me. Heat rushes to my face as it takes a moment to lock eyes with me knowingly.

"Good boooy..." It hisses, pulling back to thrust into me again.

My shaft was already sliding free of its slit but turns rock hard after its words, and it occurs to me it slipped inside way too easily. D-did I want this? To be bred by such a beast? The question torments me as I feel its heavy orbs slapping against my taut butt, tightening up only making it hiss in pleasure and thrust harder, slamming its length into my prostate like an unyielding stone hammer.

"N-no," I squeak uselessly, my legs shuddering under the heavy humps.

"No?" It chuckles. "What's going on in your head little bird? You must love this."

I try to snap something back, but all that comes out is a weak warble as pre leaks from my tip under the insisting milking of its dick inside me.

"Such a warrior you are," The beast teases. "And yet even at your most vulnerable, you let this happen. Running yourself down until you can't even squirm for me~"

"Sh-shush!"

"Why would I do that? You get flustered so easily and then make such cute noises for me!"

I let out a moan as it sheathes itself balls deep inside me forcefully for emphasis, prompting a girlish moan from my beak. No, nonono, I do not want this, I do not want this!

"Yes, you do," It chuckles, and I realize I said that aloud. "You want me to breed you, to ruffle every feather and paint you with my scent for everyone to see."

Words lock in my throat, and I can only twitter and let out small cries as its humping becomes heavier and faster, slamming its hips against mine again and again until, with a heavy rattle of its tail and a snarl, it bites down on my shoulder hard enough to draw blood. I gasp as I feel its semen flood inside with a high pressured gout, painting my inner walls with its essence and thrusting to drive it even deeper inside. I can't stop my traitor body and I cum, painting its belly with ropes of white even as it dumps gush after heavy, hot gush of warmth into my belly.

I close my eyes and lean my head back to silently scream in pleasure, opening them to see the familiar citrus yellow plumage of Yskra's snout. I let out a tiny squawk, his length inside me pulsing as I feel another pump of seed released. A heavy wave of relief washes over me as I realize it was a dream, but I become incoherently flustered when the next logical leap was it was him fucking me the whole time, hearing everything I said.

He chuckles and breathes a heavy growl in my ear as he unlocks his maw.

"Sleep well my pet?" He asks.

I do not trust a single damn word that would come from my mouth and instead nod, melting as he looks into my eyes. The bastard can tell exactly what he's done to me, and he'll take full advantage of it. Hooking his arms under my shoulders, I'm pulled up to his chest and his tail lashes us together as my shaking legs fail to wrap around his hips securely enough.

"Sing for me," He croons, his breath hot against my neck and chest, "My bird in paradise."

Every nerve is set to an electric edge, and it's exacerbated by having just climaxed, the thrust of his still rock hard cock forcing a twitter out of me as any semblance of producing speech is lost upon my vocal cords. With two fingers holding my chin, I'm forced to keep eye contact as he continues humping up into me, grinning wolfishly as I squirm and writhe around his manhood and only further spur him on. A huff of steam issues from his nostrils as I squeeze with each ascent of his dick into my depths, pushing myself back into each hump and forcing him to hilt each time.

Pleasing him becomes all I want, my ass already stretched to custom fit his dick by being bent over daily. I tweet with each slap of his heavy breeding orbs against my flesh and my legs are shaking so badly I couldn't walk or stop him if I wanted to, pre leaking from my tip in a tiny stream that creates a sticky mess between our belly feathers. The pace begins picking up again, and my calls get louder and louder, distinct from Robyn's but no less enthusiastic as he uses me as nothing more than a breeding toy and still drives my senses to new heights of pleasure.

"Y-Yskra..." I moan, shivering in his arms.

"What was that?" He snorts. "I couldn't hear you. Sing louder!"

"Yskra!" I yelp as his hands grab my shoulders from behind and I'm speared harder upon his mighty weapon.

"I want the entire village to know of what such a good toy you are. Louder birdy of mine, louder!"

"Y-Yskra!"

He let's out a husky chuckle and continues breeding my willing hole roughly, forcing me to yell his name again and again until I'm singing at the top of my lungs, "YSKRA!"

With a lungful of air that comes out as hot steam, he grunts with effort as he slams into me one last time, causing my back to arc in stark ecstasy as his length bloats with semen and it surges forth in a wave. Heavy loads pump from out of him and into me, forced to seep deeper and deeper from the sheer volume and the tight seal of my ring clamping down on his dick with an iron will. I want every drop and will not compromise with my weakening body on the matter, rubbing my beak against his chest and trembling within the grasp of his strong arms.

"Thankyouthankyouthankyou," I warble like a mantra, my shaft trapped between our pressed together stomachs and painting them both thickly in white as I feel myself becoming very full.

A bump is formed in my belly by the time he pulls out, purposefully sliding and thrusting his penis between my thighs to cover me in the last several heavy shots of his seed and grinding it against mine until I weakly pump against it, emptying the last few dregs I have left across our sloppy sexes. Of course, he's much bigger than me, but it's not like mine is much more than a novelty with the action I see.

I slump against him with a sigh, sore but immeasurably gratified.

"Robyn will have competition for the place on my lap if you keep that up," Yskra breathes in a heavy purr of satisfaction. "You stay tight no matter how hard I try to make some space in that ass. I love that."

I let out a surprised chirp as the claws of his hands tighten around both of my glutes in a strong grope, his maw locking with my beak and fiercely kissing me. I huff softly as his tongue grapples with mine and then surges down my throat for a moment, forming a bulge in it before he pulls back with a thick string of saliva connecting our mouths.

"You don't even choke on me anymore. It was good fun watching you gag around my cock, but I think I like you better this way," He says with a long lick across my face.

"T-thank you, sir."

He raises a brow in surprise before running his fingers through the feathers of my scalp in a firm pet and croons, "What? No retort, no sarcastic remark, nothing clever to say?"

My answer is a little shy sound, and he nuzzles his snout against my beak fiercely.

"Oh, you've become such a good little bird for me! So soft and you take dick so well! You're making me want to take you again and again against this floor until the spirits allow me to put an egg in your boy-slit!"

I giggle under the praise and pets, his dick stiffening against me again.

"I don't quite know where the rest of my harem have run off to, but you've got my lust raised and I am nowhere near sated. You'll just have to hang on until one of them shows up," He asserts with a twinkle in his eyes, standing up and carrying me to the nearest post.

My hands are quickly tied with the ropes around it as my face is shoved against the wall, my ass raised for him as he thrusts inside me once more. I moan for him, knowing I won't last much longer and he'll continue to use my body, but I'll certainly wake up filled to the brim and more; if anyone can convince the fertility spirits to bend bodies, it's him.