FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

Reila stalked the cramped and unfamiliar halls used by servants of the palace. A few days ago, she didn't know this place existed. Frustration fueled her restless wandering, the need to hunt. Something had worked her mother into a fury. The empress had never cut Reila out like this before, and the overwhelming sense of impotence wound a constant tension through her muscles with few outlets for release.

Smooth, featureless corridors of beige stone connected every part of the palace, if you didn't get lost. Even stranger, those who passed didn't look twice, eyes downcast and occupied with their own immediate task. No one bowed or scurried out of her way. Reila wore the mask of a servant, her illusion cobbled together from various wolf peasants, hopefully not too similar to any particular individual. It was hard to look past their dull, uninspiring coats and brutish features.

This late in the evening, few servants hurried about. Most would have already had their own dinners. Reila nearly gave up her search when she peered into an unoccupied kitchen to find it not quite empty.

A wiry male lay near the hearth, using its fading coals to read the most tattered book Reila had ever seen, the faded cover hanging by threads. His fur had a mixture of light browns and beige with a dusting of grays running down the top of his head and pointed ears. His simple brown trousers and shirt meant he didn't serve the palace inhabitants directly. Manual labor hauling goods or cleaning most likely, certainly not someone who ever interacted with nobility.

Reila smiled and altered her illusion to display a delicate purple silk bracelet around her left wrist. In a palace filled with illusion magic, it helped to have a symbol of authority when discretion was needed. Even if one of the servants were willing to risk the harsh penalty of impersonating a noble, none could afford such an expensive dye.

She slipped into the small kitchen. "Are you currently on duty?"

The wolf jumped before delicately closing his book and sitting up. "N-No. Mistress Hara gave me permission to-" His words slowly cut off as his eyes widened in recognition of the purple bracelet, vibrant against Reila's illusionary brown fur. He awkwardly scrambled to his feet, dark brown eyes locked on her wrist. His voice wavered. "Is there something I can do for you?"

Reila's great grandfather subjugated the once ferocious wolf clans - a crowning achievement of her family's reign. It only took a few generations to produce this meek trembling thing of a species once feared for their ruthless brutality.

Her heart raced. A manic rush of power seduced her instinctive predatory urges. How would it feel to wrap her far smaller jaws around a wolf's throat? Would he fight back, or merely beg until her fangs opened his trachea?

It took a moment for Reila to quell the rage that had been slowly building over the past days of indolence, and she was glad the wolf held his gaze on her wrist. As a direct heir to the royal family, she had some of the most potent illusion magic in the court, maybe even the strongest next to her mother. Her mask would have automatically mirrored the snarl baring her fangs.

"Follow me." Reila swept into the hallway without further instruction. A moment later, the wolf scrambled after her. "What is your name?"

"Dune." His claws carelessly scuffed the stone floor, letting Reila judge his distance and stride without looking. Her own footsteps fell silently.

She led him to a stairwell that exited near a secluded sitting room Reila knew no one would disturb at this time of evening. As they neared the tapestry which hid the servant's entrance, the footsteps behind her grew hesitant.

"I-I could go find someone else for you. I'm not supposed to enter the palace itself."

Reila simply turned a flat stare upon him. His ears wilted and he returned his gaze to the floor. She slipped past the tapestry. Dune flinched as if his touch might set the sturdy cloth ablaze. The sitting room waited across from the tapestry, and she led them inside, closing the door behind.

It was later than Reila thought. A large window let a nearly full moon illuminate a wide beam in the center of the cozy room. Plush chairs and a fine bookcase offered a sophisticated atmosphere. A decanter and several crystal glasses sat on a table beside the window.

Reila continued into the moon's light. Pale illumination shone upon her thick fur, too glossy to belong to a wolf. To remove any doubt, she let her coat darken to black, then shine whiter than the full moon itself. When she turned to face Dune, she revealed her vulpine proportions covered in glossy black fur. Silver gray accents wove throughout her coat in unnatural patterns, too perfect to occur by chance. Crisp silver lines ran from the corners of lavender eyes. A sleek blood red dress replaced the coarse brown servant's clothing.

Illusion magic stemmed from the royal line. Those closely connected to the empire's matriarchal line wielded the strongest magic, the most realistic and complex illusions. Most nobility could only create static images, an interesting trick, but nothing like the realistic masks that allowed Reila to impersonate others. Not that she expected some servant to pick up on those intricacies, but when she turned to face him again, wide brown eyes stared back with enough understanding for her satisfaction.

After a long moment where Reila wondered if she'd broken his simple mind, Dune folded into the most stilted and graceless bow she had ever witnessed. She tried not to laugh but doubted he would have noticed.

Heirs intended for the throne were forbidden to take a mate. Such matters were a royal duty. Her life and body alike would be used for the best of the empire. As with all rules, they didn't stop anyone of her station, only made things inconvenient.

When Dune managed to pull himself upright, Reila approached him, standing at the moonlight's edge. Her head only reached his chest, and while wiry for a wolf, his bulk far outmatched her own. Even as he loomed over her, Dune fidgeted nervously, shoulders rounded, tail twitching.

Reila reached up and began untying the laces of his shirt. "Do you have a mate, Dune?"

"A mate?" His heart pounded against her touch. A nervous whine proceeded his whispered reply. "No."

"No one special?" Reila deftly left the front of his shirt hanging loose and strolled around to put herself between him and the door. "Remove your shirt." Dune instinctively backed away from her as she advanced.

"My shirt?" He stumbled and nearly fell. Moonlight created an aura in the fur around his silhouette and cast Reila in his shadow.

"Your shirt," Reila repeated in a gently unyielding tone. Dune swallowed hard and squeezed his eyes shut. When he opened them, and she still fixed him with expectant purple eyes.

"Is there something wrong with it?" He picked awkwardly at the dangling leather ties.

"Yes," Reila replied in a dangerous purr. "I instructed you to remove it, and you haven't."

He nearly tangled himself pulling the shirt over his head. A thick coat of dense beige fur hid any detail of his musculature but added an imposing bulk to his athletic frame. In the moments where the shirt obscured his vision, Reila let the illusion of clothing drop away from her own torso. She had left her rooms naked.

"Now your pants," Reila ordered before he could recover from ogling her small chest.

Dune's eyes widened and he snapped his gaze away from her body. "I-I don't think- This is- I should go."

"It wasn't a request, Dune." She advanced upon him, driving him further back towards the large window.

A low whine trilled through the silence. His paws trembled so hard the he couldn't get his blunt claws into knotted leather cord. Reila gave him a sultry laugh then brushed his paws aside. The back of her fingers brushed through the coarse fur of his belly before quickly loosening his trousers. She danced back a step and let him finish removing the garment himself so she could watch.

Reila took a moment to admire his naked body as he did hers. Whether because of anxiety or her lack of foreplay, Dune showed no obvious sign of interest. Large heavy balls hung below a thick sheath, but his cock remained hidden within. Even aroused as she already was, Reila heard wolf men were far larger than their vulpine counterparts.

She prowled forward on silent paws, admiring her catch. The juxtaposition of his shy and timid manner on such a powerful build and large paws that captured the bestial strength of his warrior ancestors instilled Reila with an overwhelming sense of predation. He could snap her neck with raw strength, yet he all but groveled before her, a pathetic shadow of a once proud species. Dune backed away from her but ran out of space.

The large stone windowsill offered plenty of room to sit down. Reila ran a hand up Dune's chest, then pressed him back. He sat obediently, and Reila climbed into his lap, straddling his muscular thighs. She took his muzzle in one paw and tilted his face away from her to better examine his profile. Brute strength sculpted his jaw over eons, fangs that could tear her delicate arm free of its socket. A wide and unblinking brown eye reflected her black and silver avatar.

Reila released him. So close, she lowered her voice to a gentle whisper. "Have you ever been with a female?" Dune held his hands awkwardly aside, careful to avoid touching her, and shook his head. Reila wriggled closer to press her breasts against his chest. "Don't worry. I don't expect much of you." Her thighs settled against his hips, and she lowered her pelvis towards his sheathe.

He trembled. "Are you going to kill me?"

Reila laughed and ran her fingers along the back of Dune's neck, teasing him with the bite of her claws. "Of course not. I'm going to ruin every peasant bitch you ever convince to breed. Even if you find one you love. When you hold another in your arms, you'll think of me." The stiff bulge of his sheath pressed against her pelvis, and Reila positioned her wet lips atop his covered length. She leaned into him, clutching the back of his head and nuzzling against his ear. "Isn't this what all you servant boys fantasize about, or do you still want to run away and find someone else for me?"

"You're a noble," Dune whined.

"True, so it doesn't really matter what you want." Reila smeared arousal across the tip of his sheath. "Do you know what they'd do to you if anyone found out this, or worse, got me pregnant?" She took one of his large paws and placed it upon her rump. Dune panted but only made a noncommittal noise in reply.

"One day you'd disappear. No one would know why or to where." Reila caressed his cheek. "They'd say you forced yourself upon me." Her hips gently rocked against his sheath until her lips coaxed his tip free. Warm precum wet her delicate folds, and she positioned his tip at the center of her spade. "If you were lucky, they'd make it quick after they castrated you." She let him tease her tight entrance.

Dune's claws dug into her rump but he didn't struggle. "Maybe we shouldn't-" He grunted, panting heavily. "Maybe-"

"Maybe what?" The pressure of his cock strained against her entrance. Precum pumped between her more than wet enough lips. "Do you want me to stop? Fucking me will be the best thing that ever happens during your sad existence." Then she sank onto his cock.

Sharp heat stabbed towards her core. Reila steadily impaled herself until the burgeoning swell of his knot stretched her vulva. A dull ache warned her to slow, but he popped inside under the weight of her petite body. It took effort to stifle the embarrassing noises eager to sneak between her lips. Dune whimpered like a pup, shaking in her arms.

Each rapid beat of his heart resonated through Reila's belly. His cock pulsed within a pussy made for a far smaller mate. Dune's already impressive cock swelled far more quickly than she expected. Her claws twitched in rhythm with each swell, his cock crushing her from the inside. He was going to tie her. Maybe he already had. Her stomach cramped as she tried to grow accustomed to his size, but even as she remained still, his cock expanded despite how her body desperately fought to contain him.

Reila butt her head into Dune's chest, teeth grit, and rocked her hips gently against his groin. He was going to break her. Not only did his knot rapidly inflate, but his tip stretched towards her womb with nothing she could do to slow the advance.

Reila growled, not caring how her claws raked Dune's hide. "Did you ever pleasure yourself to the thought of breeding one of your masters? Perhaps pollute the royal bloodline itself?" A low snarl vibrated Reila's chest, matched by a deeper rumble from Dune. "Nobody would touch me if they knew a fucking peasant defiled me so."

A large paw fell across her shoulders and hugged her tight to Dune's broad fluffy chest. He shook. "No, I wouldn't," he whined. "It feels so good. And you're beautiful." He squirmed, every muscle in his body tensed to the point that he vibrated against her, but the powerful hand against her back held her firmly upon his cock. "I can't help it."

Reila didn't care that he wouldn't last. His narrow tip stabbed against her womb, and his knot distended her canine vulva. Pleasure lurked far from her current trial. Reila didn't enjoy but endured her wolf mate. Sex would never be about pleasure for her.

"Give me your pathetic litter. Ruin me."

A second paw curled around her shoulder, and Dune dragged her down. Nauseating heat erupted into her womb. Reila would have screamed if she had any air in her lungs. Her claws pierced flesh, and she gurgled weakly into Dune's chest, unable to breathe, unable to exist. Heavy jets of wolf seed battered her core, the dull hot blows more disorienting than a strike to the head.

The conflagration within her belly flared towards something akin to pleasure, but when it grew hot enough to consume her, the familiar waves of ecstasy never came. Dune stretched her inner muscles beyond the point where they could contract, ruinous pleasure languoring in her belly with no path to escape.

Tears leaked from the corners of her eyes, and Reila snapped mindlessly at fur and flesh. The increasing pressure of bearing his heavy release reduced her to a desperate feral creature. Dune didn't need claws or fangs to kill her. She'd die slowly, broken upon his cock. Her lungs burned but refused to inflate. Heat and pain fell away to an encroaching blanket of numbed resignation. Her thoughts ceased, drifting.

Reila found herself with a mouthful of thick fur and comforting arms encasing her trembling body. The faint taste of blood tinged her mouth. Cum seeped around the knot plugging her sex, a strange fluid sensation that made her think Dune were about to pull out despite the way he clung to her body.

Dune throbbed within her belly, emphasizing the dense jiggle contained within her. The thought of another twenty minutes trapped by his knot sickened her, and the lump in her throat felt like cum ready to spill out the wrong way. She elbowed him in the arm.

Dune relaxed his embrace. "A-Are you okay?" He panted heavily, his voice lazy with pleasure. It almost sounded like he cared.

Reila growled to make sure her lungs still functioned. Snapping at him would be too easy. Instead she reached up to pull his gaze to hers and forced the snarl on her face into the semblance of a smile. "Do you think I'm currently fertile?" she mused, stroking his muzzle with a numb paw. "Do you think I'll carry your filth within my belly?" Dune refused to meet her eyes.

Reila cooed. "Don't worry. I'd open my own stomach before I ever carried your spawn." She guided one of Dune's paws to her belly. They both flinched a the touch. "Was it worth it?"

Dune fidgeted. His cock stirred the thick cocktail of seed in her belly. He gently stroked her.

"I asked if it was worth it."

"Yes," Dune whimpered.

"You'd do it again."

"Yes."

"Even if I were in heat?"

After a hesitant pause, he whispered, "Yes."

Reila wrapped her fingers tightly around his muzzle and forced his gaze to meet the fire in hers. "Good. I might."

His cock throbbed heavily, and Reila released his snout to collapse against his shoulder, eyes fluttering shut. Her mind retreated to a place between awareness and dream. Was she trying to fulfill a random lonely urge, or destroy her life? Was this some manifestation of a deeper self-loathing, or the insidious lust for risk that her mother warned of? Why did she need to hurt?

A gentle nudge roused Reila from the darkness of her thoughts. She snarled, and Dune release her shoulder.

"Lady um- My highness-"

"What?" Reila snapped, interrupting the fumbled honorifics.

He swallowed, voice hesitant. "I think I'm about to pull out."

Reila couldn't tell if her body stopped sensing pain or his knot had diminished. A careful test of their tie didn't threaten to disembowel her, but he still felt larger than any mate of her own species she'd taken, not that she had many. No amount of waiting would make it easy, and she had already pushed her body far past the point of endurance.

"Don't move," she growled. "Hold me steady." Having to ask for even that small amount of assistance galled, but Reila didn't trust her legs. She grit her teeth and clutched Dune's back, then begged her thighs to lift.

Nausea swept through her gut in protest. Her outer lips burned when Dune's knot strained for release. Only the added weight of so much cum locked behind it let Reila escape. His cock erupted from her depths with a loud wet pop. Cum splattered noisily against stone, and the sudden emptiness felt like a part of herself emptied alongside his seed.

She collapsed into Dune's waiting arms, twitching in a desperate struggle to breathe. A cruel chill replaced the heat of Dune's cock and spread into her fur. Eventually her lungs pulled in air, and she spent a few dazed moments recovering, shaken by the devastating void within her belly. It took effort not to reach between her legs just to check that everything was still there.

Reluctantly, Reila let Dune help her to her feet, both of them careful to avoid the large mess of cum gleaming in the moonlight. There was no helping what already soaked the inside of her thighs. She tried not to let Dune see her legs wobble.

"You should go." She held up a paw to forestall him. "I'll have this dealt with discreetly." Dune quickly dressed himself but hesitated, lips parted as if he wanted to say something. The effort it took to remain standing would have driven Reila to fury if she'd had the energy. "Go," she ordered, and he fled.

The moment the door closed, Reila crumpled to the ground, curling in on herself and hugging her stomach. Cum drooled from her gaping pussy, and Reila couldn't help but lower her paw between matted thighs. Where she usually struggled to get even a finger inside herself, two slipped in without resistance. Her raw sensitive flesh stung from her own touch, but it didn't dissuade her from finding the tiny sliver of stiff flesh nestled just inside.

If anyone ever found out what occurred in this room, she'd find a silk cord around her throat. She shouldn't have to worry about getting pregnant currently, and hybrids were exceedingly rare. Even so, the thought of carrying a peasant's child sent a sickening heat through her chest. The shame and disgust only made how loose her pussy felt around her fingers that much better.

Reila pleasured her abused cunt to a quick but powerful orgasm. She writhed and snarled like a feral beast, inner muscles fluttering weakly, but enough to coax wolf cum from the depths of her pussy. The thick stringy fluid oozed down her wrist, drool smearing the stone beneath her muzzle. Only the temporary loss of control over her body delayed her from immediately descending into a frenzied lust. Wet sucking noises played off the sound of her ragged breaths. Reila's eyes glazed before she reached her second orgasm, and she couldn't tell if the third happened in reality or the fevered dream she slipped into.

It was still dark when she woke. Moonlight bathed her limp body. A dull pain lingered somewhere deep within her belly. Some of the fluids dried upon her fur, but the insides of her thighs remained a thick disgusting mess that sapped heat from her naked body.

She gasped and curled in on herself after her first attempt to stand, but fought through the pain and exhaustion to struggle to her feet. Reila observed the aftermath. Moonlight offered a surreal pale glow to the scene. Cum drenched the windowsill and left a staggering trail to her paws.

On the floor just to the right of the window lay a small tattered book. Reila picked it up. While it hadn't been a particularly fine binding when it was created, wear rounded the edges, and the cover hung loosely. A book of tales, not something for a young man to be reading.

She opened the cover and found a faded message scrawled by a hand not used to writing. The rough letters read simply: Our dearest son. Good luck.

It would raise questions if anyone discovered it. She could dispose of it later. Reila gave the small room one final check, then settled an illusion around her and limped out into the hall.