FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

Sarah woke weary. She lifted her upper body tentatively on her arms, grunting as she did so. Ah… why was it that giving birth had made her whole body ache in such a way?

…giving birth. That's right, she had—

She blinked, her vision focusing. There, nestled in a loose pile on a nearby table, were the eggs she'd laid. Sunny's eggs.

Somehow, intrinsically, she knew they were duds. Fakes. The instant recognition of it brought a strange malaise to her; she felt almost… wistful. Shouldn't she feel relieved that she hadn't carried raptor offspring? Yet, there was a hint of sadness to it. Perhaps she wouldn't have minded…

As her scientist's mind shook off her tiredness, she took in the rest of the med station. Fran and Nellis were gone. Hunting the beasts, most likely. Z was dozing in a chair nearby, boasting an odd assortment of clothes. His state of dress made Sarah suddenly, deeply aware of her own. She was naked under that sheet.

Leaning back into the bed for a moment, she let herself just coast along on her own weariness, spinning recent events over and over again in her mind. Between Bluebell manipulating her with her juices and the strain and focus required for laying Sunny's eggs, this was Sarah's first real time to think with a clear head since… well, more or less since the raptors had made their move.

She should hate them. She knew that. Yet somehow, she found herself nurturing a lingering affection. She had seen them created, raised them after a fashion, and Sunny had gone so gently with her. Though more cunning than their creators had realized, the raptors were still beasts, and it was hard to fault animals for acting on instinct and claiming what they wanted.

…in fact, she almost envied them. They had known what they'd desired and had moved to seize it. Whereas she—

Sarah glanced at the dozing Z. How she'd pined for him… oh, she wanted him. She wanted him so badly. But she'd just watched from afar, only fantasizing about having him see her, having her claim her virginity… and what had that got her? Nothing but lonely nights and losing the opportunity to Sunny instead.

She clenched her fingers around the sheets. Well, fuck that.

Wrapping the sheet around her like a shawl, she rolled to her feet, wincing as she did so. Cripes, but she still ached…

Ignoring it, she moved towards her co-worker. “Z," she said. He kept dozing. She thought of his face, vacuous and loopy as Pinky had her way with him… Her mouth tightened. That should have been her. “_Z," she repeated firmly. “Z. Zachary."_

He blinked awake, blushing at the sight of her in a sheet—As if he didn't see me naked in the enclosure, Sarah thought to herself. Or during the laying. Mumbling an excuse, he turned away, only for her to catch his arm. “Wait," she said. “Please." He held there uncertainly. “We need to talk," she pressed.

Swallowing, he turned to face her—and she could tell it was taking all his effort to look her in the eyes and nowhere else. “What about?" he said. “What happened with the raptors? I'd rather just… I don't know. Not talk about it…"

“Not that," she said, and then fear rose in her breast and she beat it down. If she could take Sunny's cock, swell with raptor eggs, and endure their laying, then she could handle this. She had to.

---

Fran returned to her office in tiredness, setting aside the tranquilizer. Nellis was away tending to Bells. The pup didn't seem to have been attacked by the raptors, but she'd clearly been subject to the same sort of… attention as Fran herself had.

Their ordeal had lasted well through the night, and by now it was past dawn—the time when Fran would normally be getting ready to come in to work. She almost wanted to laugh. Their subjects—representing tens of millions of dollars of investment—had all escaped. What should she do? Notify the authorities? The company would have her hide for exposing their dabbling in genetic research. But then, they might well have her hide anyway…

As she flicked the lights on, noting with bitter satisfaction that the power was returned, for a moment she suddenly saw Flame in her office, proud and crimson, ready, and she thought she could smell him, his readiness, his arousal, and her body ached for him, it craved him, it—

She swallowed and shook her head. No, that wasn't Flame, it was just a red coat she'd left here… laughing nervously, Fran thought to herself that sleep deprivation and trauma from her ordeal had clearly taken a number on her if she was hallucinating like that. She hoped it wouldn't become recurrent. (And she adamantly refused to acknowledge how ready[/u] she'd been when she thought he'd returned for her, or the fact that she had suddenly grown wet, was [i]still wet…)

Sitting down at her station, she noticed a light blinking indicating a high priority message. She opened it and her heart fell. Slicking her hair back and throwing on the red coat to hide the fact that she was in a thrown-together outfit, she reached out through a video call, as the message had directed.

Marcia Blackthorne answered the call on the second ring.

She was a powerful woman, a touch older than Fran herself—late thirties, perhaps, though she looked younger by virtue of the best care and treatment money could buy. Blackthorne was the head of development for the company, but everyone knew that the CEO was a doddering old fool with one foot in the grave and she was the power behind the throne. It was Marcia who had assigned Fran and her team the task of bringing back raptors, who had icily borne her early failures, who ran money and information and had arranged for the security of a seemingly-abandoned facility; protection through anonymity.

“Ms. Blackthorne," Fran said, dreading this coming conversation; she could feel the sweat beading on her olive skin. “I called as soon as I saw the message."

“I'm sure." Blackthorne was a no-nonsense woman with burgundy hair and makeup-darkened lips. She had a short haircut and understated yet impeccable jewelry; a single pair of jeweled earrings, gold cufflinks on her charcoal suit-skirt. She was resting one hand, curled into a fist, in another. “Apparently, nearby construction work knocked out a power-line to your facility. We've taken care of it. Were there any issues?"

So that's what happened, Fran thought to herself, cursing her luck yet feeling relieved that the issue which had led to the raptors' escape had not been her fault. “Yes, ma'am," she said. “The emergency generator kicked in, but it wasn't enough to contain them. The raptors… attacked us, and then… escaped." She swallowed and bowed her head. “There was nothing we could do. I'm sorry."

Silence lapsed for a long period. “Well," came Blackthorne's voice after a moment's pause, “I suppose we will just have to find new test subjects, then."

Fran snapped her head up. Her boss's voice was laced with absolute fury—the kind that chilled you to hear it. She wasn't shouting. She spoke coldly, firmly, almost airily, her voice like that of a teacher who was about to crucify you in front of the class.

“M-Ma'am?"

“You lost our old ones," she said. “Representing countless dollars and scientific expenditure." Blackthorne's eyes were icy and pitiless. “So we will need new ones." Fran's spine chilled. “Your early work on genome and species splicing was novel. Filling in the gaps with canine DNA and others. Did you know, some of the boys in our main lab think we might be able to make a concoction to mess with human DNA… let's see, besides you, there is Sarah, that intern, and the security guard. And wouldn't you know, there are four slots open as well…"

“M-Ms. Blackthorne, that will not be necessary!" Fran exclaimed. Her fingers were trembling. The company would do anything to bury liabilities, and there were rumors that Blackthorne had made corporate rivals disappear. She would be the sort to live up to her threats. “We—I—they've only been gone a few hours! We can retrieve them, ma'am!"

The ghost of a smile, cold and cruel, touched on Blackthorne's lips. “You'd better. I'll be presenting our projects to investors in a month and a half. I'll need some time to get the presentation together, so if you can't get our test subjects back within a month…" She trailed off, leaving the implication.

“I… I understand, ma'am."

“Good. You were always smart. I suppose I could be generous and lend you some material to help with the search. And by the way, Fran? Don't leave the country or try to hide or contact the authorities. That would make me quite cross." Blackthorne leaned forward, every pore of her immaculately done-up face visible. “Keep in touch."

The call ended, the screen going dark, and Fran leaned back in a panic.

One month. They had a month to find the raptors before Blackthorne made them her new project. That shouldn't be too hard. She could find the creatures within a month.

Right?

---

Z swallowed. “How long have you felt this way?"

“More or less… since we've known each other." Sarah was blushing. She couldn't believe that she was doing this, that she was finally taking that step to actually try and initiate things with Z; but then, a lot of things she couldn't believe had happened in the past twenty-four hours. She was cogent of the eggs sitting piled in the corner of her eye. It was still wild to think that she had squeezed those out…

“Why didn't you act on… I mean…"

She shrugged, still draped in nothing but a sheet. “Too shy. I've always been. But what about you? I mean, spending most of your day working with a pair of ladies…"

Z blushed slightly. “Fran was always off the table. It's never a good idea to date your boss, and besides—she's a bit… intense for me."

“And what about me?" Sarah breathed.

“You… I don't know, I always felt inadequate." He shrugged, seeming unsure. “You were the scientist and me the jokey intern; you're so much smarter than I am. Outta my league, you know? Plus, you helped me after that deal with Rebecca, while I… what have I ever given you?"

“You make me smile," she said.

Z swallowed. “Why this… all of a sudden?"

A sigh. “Last night put a lot of things in perspective. If things had gone different, I might have been pumping out real eggs, and Bluebell could have made you Pinky's slave… what if that had happened?" She clutched the sheet tighter around herself. “I don't want to be haunted by what I didn't do when I had the chance, you know? I understand if you don't want to just jump right into anything. I… I'm still reeling myself. But I'd… like to try."

“Yeah," Z said. “I'd like that too." Leaning over, he touched his hand against the bottom of her chin and pulled her up for a brief, soft kiss.

Their co-workers were still dealing with the aftermath of the escape, and they both knew that they'd be expected to provide help on that front too. But for the moment, all the two of them had to worry about was each other, and the brave new step they'd taken.