FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

This is a work of fiction. Unless otherwise indicated, all the names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents in this story are either the product of the author's imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental. All characters are of legal and consenting age, likewise if you are reading this story, you should be of legal age in your respective country.

All characters are my own creation, any resemblance to existing characters is purely coincidental and not intentional, please do not use them without permission. If you would like to use them in a story, please feel free to send me a PM either as Inja on SoFurry or TheRealInja on FA. As always, I am open to new story ideas or situations with existing characters as well.

This isn't the Halloween story I planned on posting; I might save that one for next year. This was just a random idea I woke up with this morning. This is a story in a day, or more like an hour if I'm honest, so there is no polish and review on this one, so it's a bit rough. I also haven't really written much lately, so this was just something to try get me going again.

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"Old man Herbert

Was a dirty pervert

He got his cheap thrills

By touching all the girls

Also touched the boys

In his basement full of toys

Every hole was his goal

Even hell didn't want his soul" Travis could still hear the old nursery rhyme he and his friends used to sing every Halloween. As he walked up the old warped wooden steps of the McClearly house, every step groaned and squealed as if to announce his presence to whomever or whatever might be lurking inside. Old man McClearly was known for being the towns pervert, a voracious lover and swinger back in his time before his untimely demise in the midst of his latest orgy, when his heart could not keep up with his lovemaking any longer.

The two-story clapboard house had stood vacant, with no living relatives and a messy estate, ownership was tied up in red tape and eventually it seemed to have just been forgotten about, lost to time. Only the town's residents remembered, as usually happens in small towns, rumors of the place being haunted began to circulate. It had started back in Travis's parents time, stories of curious people getting curious and entering the place, only to be groped and molested by an unseen force inside. Eventually when it came to his generation, the McClearly house was now nothing more than a test of one's manhood.

With his head fuzzy and his vision a little blurred from one too many drinks, the raccoon had found himself accepting the challenge of his friends to venture into the basement of the McClearly house on Halloween and snap a selfie as proof. His spirits bolstered by some Dutch courage, Travis had agreed and entered the house with his three equally as drunk friends waiting outside in their car with their music blasting.

Travis paused for a moment with his hand outstretched, hovering just over the old marred brass doorknob and looked back over his shoulder at his friends. Of course, they were all laughing and making faces at him, one of them even miming a chicken flapping its wings. Steeling his nerves, Travis grabbed and turned the doorknob, which groaned and squealed reluctantly before the door swung inwards. From the stories he'd heard, he knew the entry to the basement was in the kitchen which was straight down the hall before him. Just to his right were a set of stairs, with faded and dirty looking carpet, these lead up to the second floor and the bedrooms. To his immediate left was a doorway into the living room, which if he remembered correctly, the room where most of the orgies took place. Even now the furniture was pushed back against the walls with a large open space in the middle.

Travis paused as he thought he heard the faint sound of a moan coming from the room, but when he looked, there was nothing but old dirty furniture and surprisingly clean looking shag carpeting.

The carpet along the main hall leading toward the kitchen looked oddly familiar to Travis, as he slowly moved deeper into the house, he tried to remember why. His mind was working slowly, slower than usual at least, thanks to the alcohol. But being a bit of a film buff and part of the drama club back in high school, he soon remembered why. The pattern was the same carpet from his favorite horror movie, "The Shining". There was something odd about the wallpaper as well, it wasn't immediately obvious to the racoon with his slightly blurred vision, but when he pulled out his phone and turned on the torch feature. He had to stifle a laugh when he looked closer and saw the repeating pattern he'd thought was just small leaves and flowers was in fact thousands of tiny images of people fucking in various positions, usually what one would see on a set of joke China plates.

"You really were a pervert, Herbert" Travis commented out aloud, his ears twitched a moment later when he thought he heard a soft laugh from behind him. Only there was no one there when he turned around, not noticing the front door was now closed behind him. Instead, the oblivious racoon pressed on, moving into the kitchen with the cracked linoleum floor and looked around for the doorway to the basement. The kitchen looked as though it was frozen in time, they had not even packed away the dishes. There was a cracked coffee mug, with the handle in the shape of a penis, sitting beside the kettle. Beside that was obviously what was meant to be a milk jug, at least that was what Travis assumed as it just appeared to be a big detached breast with a very realistic looking pink nipple at the spot where one would usually pour from.

Travis scoffed and turned around to look for the basement door, which didn't take long as it was painted bright red and stood out starkly against the sickly yellow and white décor of Herbert's kitchen. As he descended the stairs down into the basement, the racoon couldn't help but notice there was no sign of age or lack of maintenance. Even the steps were firm and did not squeak nearly as much as the rest of the house had under his meager weight. While Travis was not a small racoon, he was still decently sized and well-toned, he loved swimming and running after all and enjoyed keeping in shape as his studies into film and marketing often meant he was stuck behind a desk for most of the day. Also being a college student meant he didn't usually have the best diet either, so it was only through self-discipline that he was able to stay in shape.

Once down in the basement proper, he was surprised to see he could see relatively clearly thanks to the full moon streaming in through the windows along the top of the room at ground level. It was just as well, there was no power to the light, or perhaps the bulb had simply burned out as Travis tugged on the string to try turn it on. As he looked around the room, he saw dozens of devices and toys he couldn't even name. Everything from sex swings, to pleasure horses and chains, not to mention the dozens of toys lining the shelves like one might doo with tools in a workshop. Travis was almost impressed with the display, it had obvious been a labor of love for the old pervert, which seemed like the perfect place to snap his selfie.

Picking his way between all the unique furniture and devices, Travis moved over to the wall of toys so they could provide the backdrop to his selfie. As he raised his phone up high and struck a pose, something in the image of his camera caught his eye. With his tongue out while doing the typical "Wazzup!" pose, there appeared to be a red ball floating beside his head. When he turned to look to his side, mouth agape in horror, sure enough there was a ball gag floating right beside him.

Before he could react, the ball gag shot into his open mouth and the straps were sinched tight around his head. As soon as he dropped his phone to try get the ball gag off his head, unseen hands began to undo his belt and pants to tug them down. Travis tried to scream, but the ball gag muffled the sound. In a panic he tried to run, but whatever was doing this to him had already undone his pants and pushed them down. With his clothing down around his ankles, the racoon stumbled and tripped immediately, landing with a heavy thud against the carpeted floor. His head bounced off the carpet, briefly dazing the young man. Before darkness claimed him, Travis felt his pants and sneakers being removed.

He must not have been out long as no one had come to look for him yet, surely his friends would've come inside to look for him if he wasn't back out in a few minutes? Travis groaned at the painful throbbing in his head, his mouth felt dry, but when he tried to lick his lips, he found he couldn't. His jaws were still held open, but not by the ball gag. Now he found he could stick his tongue through what felt like a metal ring which was trapped just behind his incisors. That was the least of is problems however, the racoon quickly became aware that not only was he nude, but he was now restrained as well.

With his wrists in padded cuffs hanging from the support beam above him and his ankles in similar padded cuffs attached to a spreader bar down below, he was completely helpless. There was also an uncomfortable tightness about his balls, though he couldn't look down enough to see what it was, but he had a feeling they were probably tied off for some reason.

Travis jumped when he felt a hand brush across his chest, only there was no one there in the room with him, at least not someone he could see. Yet he could very clearly see the fur at his chest parting beneath invisible fingers and claws. There was also the scent of whiskey laden breath tickling his nose before an unseen tongue licked along his cheek. A gurgled scream issued from his spread jaws, but it was of no use, his mouth and throat were too dry to make any real sound.

"Scream all you want, no one will hear you down here..." a disembodied voice spoke out finally. It was true, rumor had it that Herbert had made this red room so he wouldn't disturb his neighbors and if even half of what the rumors said was true, it had been very effective. Hell, Herbert had been the cause of their mayor's divorce after the mayor's wife had spent a night in the pervert's dungeon. She'd barely been able to walk by the time Herbert had let her go free, but she'd crawled back into bed beside her husband with the biggest and most satisfied smile he'd ever seen on her face.

Unseen hands began to caress all over Travis's body, claws scratching through his fur as they tweaked his nipples or teased lightly around his belly button to make him squirm. Curiously there felt like there were more than just a single pair of hands on him though, while his nipples were painfully pinched and tweaked, he felt another hand cup his bound balls with a firm and uncomfortable squeeze. But not only that, he felt hands grope and spread his buttocks before what felt like a tongue began to lick and make out with his virgin backdoor.

Travis had never considered himself gay, not even slightly bi-curious for that matter. Hell, half the reason he was even in this house was because of his girlfriend joining in with his friends on the challenge. Yet, despite all that, there was no denying the fact that it felt good having his tail hole tongued by an obviously skilled person. The only problem was that Travis was pretty sure that it was Herbert doing this to him, though he idly wondered if it made him gay as it wasn't like the person doing to this him was even alive.

"You like that, don't you, you dirty little bitch" Herbert mocked the blushing Travis.

"No, I don't..." the racoon tried to say, tried to deny it. But the ring behind his fangs held his jaw open so he couldn't speak very clearly, yet Herbert seemed to understand him just fine regardless.

"That's not what this big throbbing cock of yours says" the disembodied voice teased, soon followed by the sensation of a warm muzzle descending down along his shaft. Fuck, he was harder than he'd ever been before! Travis stared down at his throbbing pink dick, he could feel a set of lips working his flesh, but he couldn't see the person doing it. All he could see was his cock twitching and jumped as if it were in someone's maw, even his precum would follow the persons unseen throat and vanish into nothingness below as it was swallowed.

"Please..." Travis tried to beg, sounding far more drunk than he really was.

"About to cum already?" Herbert laughed, knowing damn well that the racoon was fighting to hold back his climax. With the tongue under his tail rimming him like a pro and the skilled mouth bobbing back and forth along his cock, he was fighting a loosing battle.

Soon his balls hitched up high against his scrotum and Travis let loose one of the largest loads of his young adult life. He watched in amazement as his white seed flowed into the unseen maw before him, pooling for a moment before being swallowed down in one big gulp. "My turn" Herbert suddenly spoke up as if standing right behind the racoon.

Travis was confused at first, until he felt something press against his tongue. There was no taste at first, but soon it became obvious what was happening when the object began to push and pull through the metal ring and into his mouth. The fucking ghost was fucking his face! With the startling revelation becoming rather obvious, Travis could soon feel the invisible veins and bumps along the rather long cock as it worked deeper into his muzzle and eventually tapped against the back of his throat, almost making him gag.

Thankfully his focus would be distracted from the need to gag, unfortunately it was because of another sensation demanding his attention. Someone was gripping and lifting his fluffy black and white ringed tail high while more hands held his buttocks spread. Something that felt uncomfortably similar in size and shape to the cock in his mouth was now beginning to rub and grind between his buttocks while Herbert hotdogged his firm backside.

Travis wanted to scream at the ghost to stop, that he had never done this before, nor did he want to, but it was near impossible with how stuffed his muzzle was. Though he suspected that wouldn't stop Herbert anyway, the old man had been known for getting his way, one way or another. Unfortunately for the bound racoon, this was one of those "another" ways. The cock pulled back just enough to line itself up with his spit slicked pucker, pressing in against the little pink indent with intent. Travis screwed his eyes shut and tried to relax, knowing he couldn't stop this, at the very least he'd try not endure any more pain than was necessary.

"Good bitch, take that cock like the slut you are" Herbert huffed and groaned into is ear when the first couple of inches sunk beneath the racoon's tail with a white-hot burning intensity. With a few slow strokes to get his new plaything used to his cock, Herbert steadily worked more of himself under the held aloft tail and soon Travis felt the alternating strokes of both cocks inside him.

The racoon had new found respect for his girlfriend, she'd taken his dick with little complaint when he'd finally convinced her to give up her anal virginity to him on their first anniversary. But now that he was on the receiving end, he knew that must not have been a fun thing for her to do, at least not at first. The more he took it and the more Herbert continued to thrust into him, the easier it became. He didn't want to believe it, but Travis felt like he could almost enjoy this sort of thing.

"You like that, don't you? Look how big and hard your girly cock has gotten again, just from taking it up the ass like a bitch" Herbert mocked again, unseen hands grasping and stroking along the racoon's once again stiff prick.

It was one thing to think those things himself, but to have someone else point it out and so degradingly too, it really was a blow to Travis's ego. He tried to rationalize that it was must've just been some strange supernatural phenomenon, who knew how a person would react to being molested by a ghost? His train of thought was once more derailed when the hands stroking his cock were replaced by the warmth of a muzzle, a muzzle which seemed to be matching pace with Herbert's strokes under his tail.

Travis's mind reeled; he could still feel the cock thrusting in his mouth while another plowed his no longer virgin behind. Yet he could also feel a skilled maw sucking him off again, it felt like he was the center attraction in an orgy. As his second climax approached, the ghosts' phantom members began to increase their tempo as well. Travis could feel invisible hips clapping against his buttocks every time Herbert hilted under his tail, forcing his hips to buck a little into the unseen maw wrapped about his own throbbing cock. There was even a bitter taste trickling down the back of his throat as he kept swallowing something, which he soon realized must've been Herbert's own precum...or ectoplasm maybe?

Just as his second climax hit, Travis felt the member under his tail and in his maw explode. Hot thick liquid poured down his throat in throbbing spurts, while the same feeling occurred deep in his guts from behind. He felt oddly warm, which seemed counter-intuitive to what everyone said about ghosts. They were known for making cold spots that would make one's breath visible. But here he felt the almost lifelike warmth of seed being deposited down his throat and under his tail.

"Travis, are you down here?" a familiar voice called out as the light overhead bloomed brightly, making the bound racoon have to blink and squint his eyes.

"Dude, what the fuck happened to you, man?" It was Josh, one of his best friends, an ocelot he'd known most of his life. The slender feline dressed up like Pennywise asked as he stood before his bound friend. "What's that thing around your balls..." he drunkenly asked, squatting down before his nude friend.

"Just untie me goddammit!" Travis barked, but it was no use. He still had the goddamn ring in his mouth and couldn't speak.

"Herbert's bitch" Josh read aloud from the small silver tag attached to the band wrapped about his best friends ballsack. "Dude, what's that white stuff running down your inner thigh?" the feline asked while looking up at the annoyed look on his friend's face. "Did you get fucked by the ghost!?" Josh suddenly put two and two together, finding the entire scene of his friend's defilement hilarious.

"So will you..." Herbert's voice called out, just as the door to the basement slammed shut and the light went out.

Outside in the road, Travis's two remaining friends sat patiently in their car, lighting a joint and cranking up their music just before a scream sounded from the old house's basement, going unnoticed.