FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

"Y..you want me to do what?" Eric's black-tipped ears flicked back as he stammered in surprise. He swallowed hard and tried to retrace the steps he took to get himself into this predicament. Travel overseas, they said, take a working holiday, they said.

It was only 4 days ago that the young red fox, with carefully groomed fur and wearing his very best change of clothes, had stepped off the plane into Laplandia. His very first overseas trip ever! He had never been outside of his own country, but had always wanted to visit the exotic land of the rabbits. This was to be his "OE" or "Overseas Experience", something to do in his early 20's before he fully entered the so-called real world.

It was quite an affront to his senses at first, he was so used to telling his fellow canids apart by their markings and scent alone. The sea of petite round heads, short bodies and elongated ears was a bewildering indistinguishable mass that teemed and flowed around him as he made his way from arrivals to immigration.

He picked his way cautiously up to the immigration desk for "foreigners", gripping his paperwork anxiously. The immigration booth had the officers sitting just a little higher than Erics's eye level with a wide curved perspex screen and a little cutout for passing papers through.

The rotund rabbit in the booth in front of him said something gruffly in Lapish without looking up from his computer screen.

Eric panicked. He only really had high-school level familiarity with the Laplandish language and even then he could only ask where the bathroom was.

He made a few attempts at bunny syllables and then ended his performance with a meek "uh, sorry" in Common.

The rabbit sighed and held out a paw for Eric's paperwork.

"Purpose of visit" he intoned slowly in Common.

"I, uh, travel and uh, work, I guess".

"Work? You must tick." The rabbit turned the little slip of paper over and pushed it back into the vulpine's charcoal black paws without looking up. Eric scanned his eyes down the long list of work qualification categories and grimaced.

Of course, he couldn't just waltz into the country and expect to be handed a job. He had to have some kind of skill they needed. There had to be something on the list he could do.

Artificial intelligence otter, computer science raccoon? No, no, that's not it. Advisory avian? No, definitely not that. Transport bovine. Hah! no. Milking fox... His paw hovered over the checkbox. Well, he was a fox, but he didn't know all that much about milking. He glanced up at the official. Could he learn fast enough? He ticked the tickbox and tried not to look incredibly guilty as he did so.

The rabbit turned the piece of paper back over, examining it again.

"Milking fox?"

For the first time during their exchange he peered at Eric directly over his square-rimmed glasses.

"You... experience?" the rabbit gestured uncertainly with his right paw

"Oh, um, my dad taught me from when I was a kit. Look seriously Mr. I just want to come see your beautiful country and pay my own way, please sir. You know what it's like. I'd do anything, anything!"

The rabbit shrugged.

"Is priority" he pulled open a drawer and rummaged around in it, pulling out a large green stamp. He counted on his mottled paws, muttering to himself in Lapish as he twisted the dates on the back of the stamp..

"Four days till found job, yes?"

Eric nodded "Four days, got it"

The small cream and brown paw gripped the stamp and slammed it into Eric's passport with a satisfying thud. Eric's heart leapt for joy.

The immigration agent pulled a short piece of green string from the drawer.

"Right paw"

Eric proffered a paw in confusion.

"No, right, right."

"Oh, shit, sorry."

The string was tied lightly around his wrist.

"You job, then no more string? Yes?"

"Y..yes sir. T..thank you" Eric muttered but the immigration official was already beaconing to the next person in the queue.

The river of bunny bodies swept the anxious vulpine through immigration to the baggage handling area. He didn't have to wait for the carousel. He only really had his carry on after all. He had booked himself a hotel for the first 3 nights, that was kind of a given, but apart from that and a little money he had saved up, he was entirely going as the breeze took him.

He emerged from the air conditioned confines of the airport only an hour after landing and took in the deep exotic scents of his new location.

A thrill started at the tip of his tail and made its way up his spine to his ears, flicking pert and alert to all the new sounds of the foreign place he had found himself in. This was going to work, this was going to be awesome!

He popped into the first bright orange taxi cab and gestured impotently at his phone to the location of his hotel. The driver glanced down at the string on Eric's right paw, nodded curtly and sped off in the direction of the city.

The hotel was a modest affair, the faded yellow brickwork seemed squashed together between the two apartment complexes on either side. Eric alighted from the car, paid the driver and inhaled the sharp scent of raw sewage and stale carrots that announced his presence in the heart of downtown Pinetown.

Truth be told Eric could never fully remember the next three days all that clearly. He met up with some locals who all seemed very impressed by the green string on his wrist. He got offers of free drinks: a local vodka made almost entirely of carrots that tasted a little bit more like paint thinners than alcohol. Still, after the first few rounds you lost yourself and Eric was having the time of his life.

And so it was that he awoke on the fourth day with a well-earned hangover and a text message from the Laplandish government asking him for the name of his employer or to schedule a meeting with immigration. "Nothing like a jolt of panic to focus the mind, fox", he thought to himself with chagrin as he had a brief shower.

He checked out of the hotel and wandered the streets morosely, his little carry-on luggage in tow. Was this to be the end of his overseas experience? Three days, a hangover and a piece of string? He looked around desperately for a solution and as if fate had been waiting to offer him the answer at that moment he saw the sign for an employment agency just down the road.

Eric ducked under the small doorway and folded himself into the chair across the table from the employment agent.

"It says here you're a milking fox" the slender rabbit scanned Eric's paperwork without looking up. The young fox sighed in with relief that this particular rabbit at least understood Common.

"You really shouldn't be having any problem finding work here in the city, pretty much everywhere is hiring this time of year, and people like you are so very hard to find." she continued.

"Oh, right, that's just it, I'm new in town, and, uh, kind of desperate so, can you, uh, give me somewhere to start?"

"The rabbit returned Eric's paperwork and pulled a business card off a stack on her desk."

"Yeah, sure, of course, this here's Sam, he's a cousin of mine, he'll set you right, tell him, Sarah sent you, OK?"

The address in question turned out to be a big warehouse on the outskirts of town, the huge corrugated iron ceiling marched off into the distance, stretching over dozens and dozens of neatly stacked shelves with every kind of produce Eric could imagine. Eric flicked his tail nervously as he made his way through the milling crowd of customers towards the information desk, luggage trailing noisily behind him on the concrete floor.

A pitch black rabbit wearing a blue checkered shirt lent casually back in his chair. He took one look at the string adorning Eric's wrist and he bounced to his elongated feet, yammering excitedly in Lapish.

"Uh, sorry, no speak." Eric tried to respond,

"Oh, right, welcome to Sam's everything emporium!" the rabbit immediately switched to Common with an oily smile and a gesture to everything around him.

"Uh, Sarah sent me, I guess" Eric proffered the business card by way of introduction.

"Ah yes, my good friend and/or family member, Sarah" Sam didn't even glance at the card.

"You looking for work, young fox". It was a statement more than a question.

"I think.. I mean, yes, yes please"

"And you're a milking fox, right?" the rabbit's eyes shifted to the string on his wrist again.

"Oh, yes please, I'm not, uh... I'm a little rusty I guess, but I am a fast learner."

Sam nodded enthusiastically, only half listening.

"Yes, yes, I have just the customer for you, very good account, wealthy, good family. I'll give him a ring, how about you go sit in the interview room for a bit, OK?"

"Oh, yes, absolutely."

Eric ducked under the doorway into the little room. A large window opened out onto the shop floor, it was more of a supervisor's office than anything else.

Sam bustled in behind him with a big ream of paperwork.

"Ok, well as you know, we have strict food safety standards here in Pinetown and so I have to take you through a full medical history OK?"

"Uh, sure"

"Any smoking?"

"No"

"Excessive alcohol use?"

"Uh.. define excessive?"

"I'm going to put you down as a social drinker."

"Oh, ok"

"Cancer, allergies, STDs..."

The list went on and on, with Eric answering as truthfully as possible.

"Ok, great, let me see your muzzle."

Eric opened wide as the rabbit checked his gums and looked briefly into his ears.

"Ah ha, the picture of health, very good, very good" he said, ticking boxes with a flourish, his long ears pert and alert.

"Now, take your pants off please."

"My.. what?"

"Your pants, please, I need to do a full medical after all." the rabbit tapped the papers.

Eric bit his lip and gingerly unbuttoned his pants, ears askew as they dropped to his ankles.

"And the rest."

Eric meeped and pulled his underwear down to join his pants, the cool breeze ruffling his soft white sheath and balls, his ears burned hotly as they flattened against his head.

Sam poked Eric's balls with the back of his pen.

"No lesions or contusions, external genitalia appears normal, check and check."

Eric resisted the temptation to ask why the shape of his balls mattered at all and what was "normal" anyway.

"Ok, you just sign here please fox, this is just to say that all the answers you have given are factual and I'll countersign"

They both signed.

"Well, now that's out of the way, as you're a qualified milking fox" he nodded to the green string, "you will know the basics, but I will just give you the quick run-down of how it works, right? You'll be well compensated for your time. You will be milked once a day in accordance with the highest food safety standards."

"M...milked"

Eric froze. His heart leapt into his throat and then sank into the bottom of his stomach. With a sick feeling he suddenly realised his mistake there with his pants and undies around his ankles.

He was not going to be the milker, he was going to be the milkee. He remembered distantly in social studies at high school that some traditionally prey animals like rabbits highly prized flavours from exotic locations. There was an old joke in his hometown that fox cum was like catnip to some critters, but he had always dismissed it as an old vixen's tale.

Sam turned to look up at Eric dubiously, ears askew. "Hey, you ok, fox, you need a glass of water you look pale?"

Eric's mind raced. Cum, they wanted his cum, for eating? His pulse quickened and he tried not to hyperventilate.

"Look, do you want the job or not?"

He didn't want the job, he needed the job. Was this where his holiday would end? In a warehouse with his pants around his ankles? Or would he tough it out, commit to the adventure, and see what happens?

"No, no, it's OK", it's just a job interview, he would just do the interview, they'd realise he had no experience and then worst case scenario he would be given more time to get a different job, a better job.

"OK, great, now I'll just need you to produce a sample."

"Y..you want me to do what?" Eric's black-tipped ears flicked back as he stammered in surprise.

The black rabbit cleared his throat and proffered the confused vulpine with a little glass tumbler.

"Look, he's very busy and he's coming all this way to see you, the least you could do is put some effort in on your part, if you know what I mean."

Eric felt his exposed shaft stir despite the awkward situation. Sam wanted him to cum and, well, that was actually technically something he was pretty experienced at doing. "Oh, "I'm sorry, of course, I just need... uh... is there a restroom or somewhere I could?"

"Oh, no, sorry, company policy, we can't tell it's you unless its in a controlled environment, if you know what I mean."

"Oh" Eric looked down at the small glass tumbler morosely.

The rabbit's phone buzzed.

"Ah ha, he's here. How about you take this opportunity to get yourself in a milking mood, why don't you, fox?"

The rabbit left briskly and closed the door behind him.

This was his chance, he should just leave, run away, but where would he go? Back to immigration? Back home with his tail between his legs? He needed a job and really how hard could it be. Cum in a cup? Cumming he could do, cumming he was good at.

So, he closed his eyes, imagined his best friend Mike and started stroking slowly and deliberately over the little glass tumbler.

It took what seemed ages for him to get hard, Eric let out a deep sigh and fondled his balls thinking of his sexy friend, wishing he were here with him now. His breathing quickened as he finally felt his sheath stir between his fingers. He gripped himself roughly and jerked it with the expertise of a great deal of practice. He moaned again, his shaft harder and slick with precum. The fox threw his head back and gasped "oh Mike" as he pumped faster and faster, harder and harder. "Please I just need you to..."

He opened his eyes and cried in triumph as hot sticky ropes of cum erupted from his turgid member, although he tried to get most of it in the glass tumbler, the very first enthusiastic spurt shot across the room and landed on the shoes of a new rabbit who must have entered the scene while his eyes were closed.

Eric froze, his cock receding immediately back into his rapidly softening sheath, cum dripping unnoticed onto the inside of his undies.

There in front of him was Sam, smiling triumphantly and next to Sam was a tall (for a rabbit) neatly dressed bunny. His fur was impossibly white, his coat impeccably brushed, even his whiskers looked like they had been recently trimmed. He smelled of... well, he smelled of money, old money, lots of it. And at this moment, he also smelled quite strongly of fox cum.

They'd seen it. Everything. They just watched him cum in a cup, yelling his friend's name. The humiliation was almost too great, he wanted to curl into a little ball and go to sleep.

Sam ducked his head obsequiously and spoke quietly to the taller rabbit in Lapish. The tall customer nodded and waved a paw. Sam grabbed the little tumbler from Eric's paw and proffered it to his patron. The tall white rabbit took a brief sniff and a deep swig, rolling the cum around in his mouth as though it was a cigar or fine wine. Finally he swallowed, shuddered with what seemed to be pleasure, nodded curtly at Sam and left.

Sam tilted the tumbler up to his muzzle and tapped the bottom of the glass to get the last remaining vestiges of cum onto his tongue. He smacked his lips and closed his eyes with relish.

"Oh dang that's good. Really good. Have you ever been graded?"

Eric stood there slack jawed, wishing the ground beneath him would open up and swallow him whole.

"Apparently not, well, you really should get graded. It's a pity I agreed to my commission beforehand because I could have made a pretty penny off of you at auction."

Sam sighed and shook his head at his short-sightedness.

"Still, I reckon we both got a good deal, you and I. I have increased your pay by about 50% in recognition of the obvious quality, I know Mr. Hillside will agree, just read these terms and sign here please."

Eric signed in a daze without thinking.

OK, right, you're now per the contract you are now to accompany Mr Hillside to his residence as his new milking fox for a minimum of 6 months. Your needs will be taken care of. Your immigration status will be upgraded of course, let me just replace that green string for you.

Sam pulled a thick green leather collar from his top drawer and cinched it tightly around Eric's neck.

"There you go, minimum 6 month working visa with all rights and privileges. I have to say, I envy you, fox, getting to go live in that nice house, now would you please put some clothes on, you're making me uncomfortable."

Eric left the building in a daze, blinking in the afternoon sun. A black limousine was pulled up to the main entrance and a big burly cream coloured rabbit stood at the front door beckoning him in.

His cock still leaking and twitching from their earlier treatment and his ears still burning with embarrassment, Eric got into the car and embarked on the next leg of his journey.