FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

Quick Kills No 3.

NAKED IN MY CELLAR

Wanted this up for Valentines but life has a wonderful way of granting unexpected company.

DISCLAIMER: All of the following characters are of fictional origin and of course over the age of 18. Read your tags, be an adult, and most importantly, Enjoy~

By this point I'd developed some tact at what I was doing, watching, waiting, studying, seething. Noting each marks pattern, fun fact : we all have patterns, a verifiable feed loop for our behaviors, not many people break it, or want to. Predators are the easiest to follow, because by their nature, they have to predate the weak and supple. Some would call this natural selection and to a degree, I agree, but even then, there are some things an ecosystem will correct on it's own. Whether it be disease to cull over breeding, or lack of food, or, the introduction of a new predator.

What bothers me is, the ones that lie about themselves, using deceit to hide their colors everyone else can see. A regular snake in the garden, if you will, offering the best fruit they themselves stole, to you, should you only reach for it from their coils. Sounds pretty good to an empty belly doesn't it? Only until you pull back a hand with two fresh puncture holes leaking blood and venom, THEN you realize not only have you been had, but the floor spins and you end as the serpents meal.

But what I'm saying is, if you're going to be a monster, BE, A FUCKING, MONSTER, don't half ass it, commit. Oh right, the ones that have to hide behind bright colors would starve if they didn't. Pathetic, then there are the, "smarter", I say that with much lenience to the word, ones whom farm their own prey. You see it a lot online, a willing, eager flock of ever replenishing sheep cheering to have their throats cut. Whom all recoil in faux shock when their idol disappoints, sure a few see the knife coming but what's a little fodder for new meat?

Speaking of such, spotted the patriarch of a local orphanage exploiting a similar setup, one the, "system", provided him no less. Robert G. Egress, 39, almost seven foot even, two hundred eighty three pounds as of last weigh in. Booted from a prestigious school after becoming the rugby coach for, redacted, reasons. Conveniently placed as head supervisor at a home for abandon and troubled youth, primarily dealing with males.

You sure can find a lot on just about anybody online, no matter how hard or how many people you send to scrub, someone's saved it, it is the internet after all.

"Ohh look at that," I thought, rolling probable cause, a brand, shiny new deep navy Mercedes, full reflective black windows. Cruising under an overpass commoned by the homeless, sticks out like an infant wrapped in a drive chain. Unfortunately, what better a place for the youth that age out, or get kicked from the home and somehow, never make the leap to well adjusted adult. To have the only steady rock in your life removed, what few wouldn't give to see anything from that again, even if it's just a familiar face...

"Hello Timothy." A warm older voice boomed its brassy tones, their mischievous notes calling out from cracked windows, one particularly new young man perked up. Somber, a white mouse seemed to recognize the owner,

"Mr. Egress?" He squeaked timidly, a hearty chuckle fell with the drivers window, one large polar bear sat eyeing him, adorned with every college professor cliche. Knockoff Rolex, striped tye, button up shirt, shitty glasses, all coming into view as cheap cigar smoke aired itself out. I watched their exchange from the shadows several shanties away.

The intrepid dance of predator and prey, a timeless exchange orchestrated by mother nature's more, carnal, desires. Not that he really needed to do much persuading, the week that mouse had hung around, I didn't see him really eat or talk much. Mainly staying in his own little box huddled up, he was practically the bears as soon as he recognized him. What a cunt, betraying trust like that, I'll have to make sure it's returned five fold. My heart sank watching as the scales tipped the way I knew they would, the little mouse cheered, climbing into the passenger side, Robert grinning that all too familiar grin, speeding off to with his morsel. I am going to enjoy this one.

*****

I sat tucked away in a tree line, luckily Rob lived in a nice house out in the outskirts of town, newly developing neighborhood and whatnot, no fences, or neighbors. Simply waiting for night to fall, he'd spend between now and then knocking back a solid case of cheap shitty beer before heading to the basement. Bastard enjoyed watching kids shows on blast downstairs for some reason, given his earlier shopping, I was eager to see why.

Sunset crept on in, blaring sounds of pocket monsters echoed out off my way, but the voices... sounded off. This house was old, filled with trinkets in old glass cases akin to grandmas house, two stories, 3 bedrooms, and a basement.

"Pika- Pika Pi~" The sounds of that goddamn show blasted from below, hiding my already nimble boot steps. It wasn't until I shouldered the downstairs door that I understood why it sounded off, the opening was on a loop, split by an occasional add quiz,

"That's right, my little mouse, Pika-Pee~" Rob let out a big, elongated groan, followed by a struggle wrapped in chains, the tail end of a crick drooling off into busted concrete chunks. Whatever was going on, I'd have to let Santa's little helper kick in, I flicked my wrist, should be soon.

"Open your mouth." The crick spatter dulled for second, replaced just as fast by gagging and choking.

"I said, open your GODDAMN MOUTH!" One dull thud transferred into shaking chain links accompanied his shouting, another sent the sharp clap of skin across brick and mortar. One more made my decision for me, I slipped downstairs, that was the last silent thing I did. Robs nest, a basement off sized to the rest of his house, roughly as big as the living room.

Relatively, bare, in setup, there was a large recliner in front of an even bigger home theater. Rope, spreader bars, and other bondage rigging spattered throughout randomly along the walls. Two of which stuck out, both hand crank winch setups, one over the aforementioned chair, the other, occupied and wriggling at his front.

I wasn't trying to hide anymore, running up on his backside, launching myself just right to catch him for a choke hold. Right as he raised another strike, I was in his ear,

"Hello Robby~" The bear looked half dazed already, my weight alone took him face first into the basement wall, bloodying his snout, it left a nice smear down the wall as we crashed. I held my wrist watch turned inward until his breathing became shallow, then sought to set Timothy free. It wasn't until I put eyes on him that I understood what was going on, he'd been restrained, thick, large gauge, heavy ball and chain style shackles held down each leg. Hands bound together at the wrist and cranked overhead to hold him in place, a rather beefy section of rough grit rope practically dislocating his jaw. Had the implications not been so sinister, I would've admired the bears setup, even had Tim done up in a corner shower stall, complete with red cheek circles made with, lipstick? The rest of him was soaked burned yellow in steamy, rank, urine, petite body stripped bare with each spot bruised and angry. Every shackle bore a matching keyhole,

"Where's the key?" He panic flicked his head in the direction of a wall I hadn't noticed. It was a divider, made of lighter wood, smooth, glossy, gym bleacher polish to it, one large door in the middle. I managed to pop a thumb knuckle through his gag knot, he kept flicking his head so I left for the door, not thinking anything about it. Big mistake,

It swung open effortlessly, stereotypical large iron key ring hung waiting for me on the other side. The smell that hit me, I swear if you could anthro a cesspit, violate it, mind, body, and soul before using it as your personal latrine leaving it to starve in the dark. That's what this room smelled like, and it didn't pull any punches, I mistakenly reached in, tugging an innocent looking white light string. Bodies, there were bodies, stacked on bodies, like cord wood,

"Just how long had he been doing this?" This put the grin on my face, all roughly Tims size, all most likely kids that went missing after they got out of the home. My knuckles popped around the key, I sorta went numb after seeing that, could tell what mood I was in because it reflected through Timothy. Shivering as I knelt by him,

"Give me one hour, and I'll make sure he never does this to anyone else." Every shackle popped free with just the slightest key turn, Tim popped down collapsing under his own weight. My guess was he'd been like that since he was picked up, now that he was still, I finished removing his crude gag.

"Do we-" He cut me off, hugging me, clinging to the only light in this abyss. I've got news for you, If I'm your salvation, you're well and truly fucked. I held him for a bit, even though my shirt sopped up every last drop of bear piss, not the worst thing I'd been covered in mind you, so I guess one shouldn't complain. More to my point,

"Timothy, give me some time with Robert and I'll make sure you're the last person he does this to." Gradually, he pried loose to where we could speak face to face.

"Do we have a deal?" One smooth growl paired with offered claws, he looked over to a passed out Mr. Egress then back to me. Even in shambles the boy understood, he was trapped in a basement with two evils, the lesser of whom offered freedom, tarnished as it maybe. I had no idea that what I was doing back then, every hand shake, agreement, or accepted offering took a bit of my soul and in return, I felt more, right. The small mouses hand gripped my middle finger, shaking it best he could,

"Wonderful." I sighed exuberantly, with a smile and glow to my eyes that rightly scared the boy, he recoiled within himself,

"Good lad. Remember, one hour then call the police, you might want to hose off between then." Tim nodded, squeaking a rather meek,

"Thank you." Bolting for freedom, I waited, eyes transfixed on my new ursine plaything, thoughts catching up as I heard him on the stairs,

". . And don't, come, back, down." He paused, surveying how I eyed Mr. Egress, quickly scurrying up, assuring escape.

*****

Roberts eyes began to roll into view, still rather sedated, they lacked any real coordination besides the heavy weight of their comfy lids. He let out a hefty groan, wrists shaking with an attempt to bring them down, I'd placed Rob in Tim's position, legs shackled apart. The bears meaty girth ratcheting ever skyward with every click of a crank.

"You know I'm rather impressed with your setup." The stainless steel crank turned effortlessly under claw,

"You're a little misguided though." Thing must have been rated for butchering cattle, pulling him easily until his feet swung.

"Perfect." Rob groaned, I'd duck taped his muzzle shut as I wasn't a fan of burlap rope for anyone besides loved ones, that scratchiness really lets you feel the affection, ya know?

"Wakey wakey." Taunting, tapping his nose with a dagger claw tip, he still wasn't coming to.

"Shit, I really need to get my dosage right before I start fucking with this stuff, wouldn't want to lose out on all the fun." My eyes fell to his rather impressive cock and balls, then to the shackle key. I massaged those hefty orbs, one at a time, rolling them in my palm, each one was it's own handful. Then to that luscious shaft, holding it in my palm, starring into the eye of Sauron, admiring its magnificence, my how many holes had he wrecked with this. I held the key up, smiled, gave the little iron lad a quick lick, then I shoved it in Robs piss slit, all the way to its handle. I don't know what made him kick more, the skeleton key in his cock, the one smooth motion it went in with, or the right hook to his balls I followed up with.

"Don't worry Rob, you won't go to prison." The bear had come around enough to slow his kicking, my claws tracing where ever they pleased, his fur was, so inviting.

"I wouldn't do that to you." I'd drug over a nightstand from beside the chair, emptying my pockets of various skinning implements, mainly my cleaver. Turning, eager to examine what I was working with, his wide eyed look of hopelessness, I wish I could've gotten it framed.

"That's a nice pelt, I think I'll take it with me..." I smiled, scratching a choice neck fold, claws exploring, poking, pinching, rubbing as they pleased, Idle hands, so hard to keep satisfied. Rob began to shake, to fight his restrained position, only to wiggle, like a maggot, without being insulting to maggots. While going over the cut's I'd have to make, the small glint brass caught my eye from the floor, it was the lipstick he'd used, giving me a wonderfully devilish idea.

"But first..." I stepped around to his back side, my chest flush to his lats, muzzle in his ear, rough denim tent hot dogging those thick furry cheeks.

"I am, the animal, who will not, be himself." Robert shook his head, mumbled cries gone unheard while I rubbed his hole pretty pika red. The calls grew, pleading to be saved from the very torment he'd intended to put that boy through. And no one, would come, well, I would, with both claw sets bared as talons and a subtle zip, I made sure to dig in to that breeding post of an ass. Wrenching down, forearms flexed to the max, making sure they caught meat. The bears flailing aside, it was easy to line up, head flush with a nice tight hole that winked on contact.

"Oh~ are you a virgin?" His head shaking intensified, those defiant muffled swears turning into whimpers. I bit down on his nape, tasting the sweet copper drench my fangs only added fervor to the moment. Now the angle at which he hung would've been odd for most things but his size really helped ram it home. Rob cried out, his tone matching my rough, jagged thrusts,

"How does it feel to be used? To be taken? To lose that most sacred inner sense of self. You're mine now, Robby. And no one, will save you." For whatever reason I took particular joy in assaulting this bears backside. It could've been the macabre dungeon scene, I will admit I did enjoy the setup, if not a tad crude, or was it the tight dry insides of a polar bear trying to spastically repel an invader? The world may never know. I hissed as I felt an old friend welling up inside me,

"Ohhhhh Robby, are you ready to be marked?" I taunted, he violently shook his head in protest with muffled murmurs pleading for me to stop. Whether it was all the pre-seminal in him or the blood from a damaged colon, Rob grew increasingly slick, hastening my arrival. My hips slammed home base at a quickened pace, even when Robby began shitting all over me, I plowed through the silt, breeding a nice set of brown stained cheeks.

I had never came so hard in my life, the flurry of spear throws crescendoing in a dozen or so deep, slow, sheathing presses. Draconic member dumping several healthy glugs of seed in his ruined bowels, Rob was crying, gasping out in turmoil loudly each time I plumbed his guts a tad more.

"You feel that Robby? That flooding warmth, drooling from my cock?" I held him through his sobs, thrusting, riding my personal polar pocket pussy. Gradually everything began to settle, his whimpering softened, the last song of a defeated monster. It accented the descending serenity of a dusk lit basement rather nicely, I thought.

"NOW FEEL THIS!!!" I grabbed the cleaver, reeling back on his nape with a free hand, foot paws leaving the ground to hang connected at the hip. My arm swung of its own violent will, blade barely clearing my thumb knuckle wrenched upon his nape. First swing clearing one third of his neck, a second, third, and one final fourth sent Robby's head rolling.

Arching blood shot upward in dying spurts, raining down in lovely pulsing showers, his nerves fired in panic. Robs traumatized love tunnel came to life, erratically gripping and milking a sustained bliss from me. The warm red rain coating my scales and the death throws of a lover were a new kind of cozy I never knew I needed in my life.

"Ohh~ Robby!" I reeled back, throwing my legs forward and riding that carcass swing. A few unintentional thrusts and I came the second hardest time in my life, letting the deceased flesh light work its magic. I clung to him, he was so cushy and still warm, gradually sirens caught my ear.

"Fuck, had it really been an hour already?" I dismounted, watching his ass drool an outright fetid mess of red, brown and white. Toweling off, I spotted Robs severed head, the tongue hung outward with both eyes slightly offset.

"Oh Robby~" How could you resist that charm, holding him in both hands, I sucked the still, lifeless tongue in next to mine before biting his lower lip and moaning.

"Thanks for the good time." I chuckled, taking one last admiring look at the scene, dipping out the back door. There was a deep forest backing the neighborhoods edge where most of the towns sewers fed through, so it wasn't hard to disappear. All hell broke loose once it got out what Rob had been doing,

"Small town home, House of Horrors." Read the head lines, some outlets trying to out do the other in body count, one even boasting the title "House of a Thousand Corpses". Nothing more than shear hubris of course, there was only one hundred eight bodies pulled from that room, one hundred eight too many. All identified and laid to rest respectfully, every, single, one, came from the shelter, Rob didn't suffer enough. Naturally the accompanying academia that sheltered this monster got drug into the light and sued into oblivion. Oh Karma, how I love thee,

"The suspect responsible for Mr. Egress's gruesome demise is still at large." Good, the way it needs to fucking stay, little did I know, someone had been paying attention.

After all, we all, have our patterns.

WHEW! Jeezum crow this was a long one, felt like it anyway. Thoughts? Comments? Critique? I'm eager to hear them.