FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

Modern Technology

• A commission for Shadow Whittaker by Charn, (c) 2011, all rights reserved.

Chapter One

The morning sun peeked in through the window, tickling at the squirrel's eyelids. An arm, flung haphazardly overhead, blocked it out for a while, but sunshine is nothing if not persistent. It crawls underneath that arm, between fur and sheets, and soon that little squirrel was grumping and chittering irritably. He was tired, sore, and sticky, and he just wanted another fifteen minutes of sleep.

Fifteen minutes of sleep was not to be, however. The sheets slid down over his tangled form, baring his sleek chest, lean hips, and ripped up boxers. They hadn't been ripped up ten hours ago, but that was when the squirrel had been in a bar. A lot had happened since then. He groaned and fumbled for the sheets as they pulled away, like a retreating tide, leaving him naked in the morning air. Finally, he opened his eyes, sitting up in the bed. His tail, likewise, fluffed up beside him, the fur tangled and matted down from a night of reckless leisure.

The squirrel sniffed at the air, smelling something ... delicious. Something warm and inviting. Rubbing at his eyes, he yawned widely, then made a face. His breath tasted like sour cock.

He scratched at his shorts, frowning as he felt the shreds along either hip, where claws, or teeth - he couldn't remember which - had dug into the soft material. Those were new boxers! He shuffled painfully around, blearily looking for his daisy dukes. They were nowhere to be found. Same with his shoes and socks. Oh! A glimmer of shiny blue fishnet.

"Yay!" He squeaked, and hopped over to it, crouching down to pick it up.

"AAAAAGGGGGH!" He bolted aright again, both paws instinctively reaching behind him to grab his ass. "Holy FUCK what the hell did I put in me last night!?"

The squirrel hobbled over to a mirror, turning around and trying to see how much damage his soft little rosebud had suffered. His thick tail flicked and flapped back and forth, as if to block his view, but an elbow knocked it out of the way. He whimpered. He had definitely been savaged last night, his asshole looked more like a raw steak than the prim, cute, snug little dick-sheath it normally was. He tentatively touched it, and whimpered again.

"I really wish I remembered that, that must have been a lot of fun." He pouted, then -carefully- knelt and grabbed his shirt. The shiny rayon fishnet was pulled over his head, over his slender shoulders, and pushed and sheathed down over his torso, until just his cute little belly button peeked out. Good, good. Oh! There were his pants!

The too-small daisy dukes were hanging from a window shade, and the squirrel had to go up on tippy toes to snag them and pull them down. He slipped them on, gingerly, and winced as the sharp crease went up his buttcrack. Oh, the pains of being a fashionable slut! He smoothed out the legs, and felt a lump. Oh! Right.

He glanced to the door, then reached into his pocket and pulled out a silver Zippo lighter. He was supposed to do something with it. Or had he already? Hmm. He's sure it would come to him. For now, Breakfast!

On his way out, he peeked at himself in the mirror.

Okay, goddammit, ripping up his boxers was one thing, but that long gash down the back of his fishnet was UNACCEPTABLE. It's not like he WORKED at Hot Topic, he had to PAY for this stuff! With cute twinkie rage burning in his heart, he stomped out of the bedroom. and towards the smell of cooking, intent on unleashing his self righteous non-jail-bait fury on whoever had sexed him up last night.

The house smelled of that warm, sulphury smell, but it was definitely stronger in the kitchen. The light was on, and the remains of a bowl of cereal lay in the middle of the kitchen table, scooped clean save for a few soggy flakes of processed grains clinging to the edge. A grayfurred beast sat on the opposite side, enjoying his smoke. His pack of smokes, and a silver zippo lighter both lay on the table, next to the bowl.

"Excuse me!" the squirrel said, hands resting on his hips. "I don't know who you think you are, but-"

"Get out," said the figure sitting at the table. His voice had that classy raspiness of an older wolf, one who's been smoking for sometime. He was wreathed in a halo of cigarette smoke, the latest cause of which dangled from his lips. His fur was the same color as the smoke, only darker. The squirrel moved up to the table, standing next to the sitting wolf, his paw fishing into his pocket.

"Oh hell naw, you did not just tell me to get-"

"I said.. get out." The wolf growled. He lifted his right arm from under the table, and plucked the smoke from his lips with his right hand. A silver hand. A silver, fleshless, wires and metal plates hand. Arm. Limb.

The squirrel gasped as the fingers pinched perfectly at the smoke and then, abruptly, stamped it out in the middle of the chipped cereal bowl. Those eyes peered up at him, one blue, the other a grocery store bar code scanner red. Fluffy McShredboxers grasped at his chest, startled, and afraid.

"What... what kind of monster are you!" His shredded rump clenched, making his dukes tent a little bit as he realized he had gotten it on with a freak of nature last night.

The wolf didn't respond, simple standing up. And up. And up! Until he loomed, head nearly touching the ceiling, easily dwarfing the cute little slut who cowered before him. The squirrel put a paw on the table, next to the wolf's lighter, cowering under the might of the ferocious beast before him.

Well, that at least explained why the squirrel had gone with him, he had always had a soft spot for tall guys, and - HOLY FUCK! SCARS.... big pink ugly ones, crossing over his chest, looking like at one point they had been deep.

"Get.. Out. Or. I will. Eat. You." came the dark, gravelly voice from the monster in front of him.

This was a little too much for our intrepidly deep-dicked squirrel hero to handle, and he fled. He ran, and ran, and ran out the door, and down the street. Past the two old bloodhounds who rocked on their swing on the porch, shaking their heads. He didn't notice as one handed the other another fiver, because he was too busy listening to his brave little heart beating with furious fear. He never looked back, and he never saw that wolf again.

Which was just fine, for the wolf.

Chapter Two

Shadow watched the squirrel flee his house, and grabbed the cereal bowl from the table. He washed it out in the sink, with his good paw, looking outside as the growing sunshine. Went back to the table and pulled another smoke free of the tattered box. But there was no lighter. It had been on the table, obviously, for he had just had a smoke. Now, it was gone.

This Zippo had been with him for a long, Long time. If it was gone, he was going to be a little upset. More upset than he was over the squirrel - or any other of his toys - walking out on him. The Zippo was a friend. His mind already starting to itch for the smoke he had been denied. He started prowling around the kitchen, looking under the table, in the sink, everywhere for that lighter.

The smoking usually helped with the... looks he got. The squirrels had been more extreme than most. Some of them actually kind of liked it, but that was even weirder than the ones who didn't. The squirrel had looked at him like he had set Gramma Squirrel on fire, or something, though.

He tapped at his thigh, chewing at a lip. He needed that smoke. It was gone. Shame. They weren't cheep. He needed to go to town. He pulled a dull gray t-shirt over his torso, hiding the pink scars that glared so prominently out across his torso and belly. A few tugs later, and a pair of thick, dark blue jeans leeched hungrily at his thighs, and lastly, a pair of sandals. He was ready to go.

He rolled the shirt sleeves up, and tucked the hem into his pants. Smoothed his good paw down over the strong, obvious bulges his pecs made in the soft, worn material, and headed out the door. Only-

There it was. Sitting there on the ground by the door. Maybe the squirrel had grabbed it on his way out, or something. He swooped, and picked it up, pushing through the door and heading outside.

He stepped into the late morning sunshine, feeling it instantly bake through his shirt, warming his torso, his ears. It was a good feeling, but not as good as that first pull on a fresh smoke. He brought the cigarette to his lips, and then the Zippo. Closed his eyes, and pulled the spark wheel.

He was expecting a spark, not a jolt. He felt the spasm arc from his cybernetic arm, directly into the spine plug in his back. He heard the crinkly sound of his hydraulic fueled fingers crushing the Zippo into a dripping ball of wasted steel and aluminum.

"FUYUCK!"

His cigarette was soaked in the splashed naphtha fluid, ruined. Goddammit. It was on his face, too, the sticky fluid clinging to his whiskers. Now he needed a shower. He stepped back towards the house, his arm swinging out away from him, and he heard a clink, a clatter. He glanced down. His cyborg hand had released the crushed lighter to the pavement. Only he hadn't told it to.

He knelt down, and leaned forward with that should to pick it up again. But the hand was limp, knuckles brushing the cement, completely unresponsive. Oh shit. His arm was busted. It must have shorted out. How the hell had the lighter done that, anyways? He picked it up with his good hand, and peered at the cartridge. There was nothing in it to suggest that it was ... charged or anything. Just a normal, metal lighter, now crushed up like a bit of foil. Whatever it was had been real though. Maybe his arm had blown a fuse?

He knew who to talk to. Ed.

Ed was a quick walk up the street, an electrician and tinkerer that was Shadow's 'go-to' man for all things having to do with cybernetics. The big, shaggy pony was in his den, tinkering with what looked like some sort of a fusion between an Atari 2600 joystick, and a... Shadow wasn't quite sure what the other part had used to be, but he had a sinking feeling that it was either a musical instrument, or a vibrating dildo.

"Hey, I got a problem." the wolf growled, rubbing the cold, dead limb at his side.

"Yeah? Put it on the stack, I'll get to it when I get to it."

"Not that easy, Ed. It's my arm. I think it's fried."

That spun the burly pony around on his chair, which wobbled lazily as he did so. "Fried? Let me see." he pushed some sprawling bangs out of his furrowed brow, gesturing for the wolf to join him. He pushed a pile of twitching action figures off of a coffee table, where they began to squirm around on the floor.

"Yeah, I dunno what happened. I was trying to light a cigarette and ZAP! my arm just died on me."

"Hmmm." The pony pulled a toolkit out of his pocket, unfolding various components from the solid core, until he had a Swiss army entanglement of play tools to work with. "Well that's just bullshit."

"What is it?" Shadow peered at the backside of his arm, near the elbow.

"Oh, I have no clue, yet. But it looks like you blew a capacitor, at least. Why don't you come in the back, I'll take you apart and fix ya up."

Ugh. That would take hours. "I'd rather not, can't you just replace the capacitor?"

"Nope. The capacitor blew because of an errant probe from the PsychOS. I'm gonna have to do a firmware AND a software scan, and recalibrate your interaction ports through your spinal plasm."

"Uhm."

"Oh don't worry, it's all under warranty, so it's covered. Won't even take that long, really. Got a half an hour?"

"Depends." The wolf lolled his head around his shoulders, stretching out an imaginary kink. "Got a smoke?"

"Ah, you know I don't do that stuff anymore. Not worth it, long term. And you smoke way too much, anyways, you can afford to take a break."

"Yeah, well, fuck you, too." The wolf slumped down in the proffered chair, and the pony feasted on the wolf's arm. Click, clack, tick, tack, the various implements and tools dug into the circuitry. Whirr, whoosh, tingle, wires were disconnected, attached to a handheld Cyboport, the pony studying read outs as he tingled and twitched occasionally beside him.

"Careful, Bubs," the wolf remarked, after one particularly strong jolt bursted into pain behind his eyes. "Ugh."

"Oh, don't be a baby. This is all for your own good. Say, did I see you at the Hot Trot last night?"

Shadow flicked his ears forward, and back, fighting a sudden blob of nausea. "Yeah. Bagged another squirrel. Those fuckers are tight. Silly, too."

"Yeah, thought so. You know, you gotta be careful with what you take home with you, some of those fellas are up to no good, you know?"

"Oh, don't worry, I will." Shadow rolled his eyes. "You still pissed that I stole that otter from you last month?"

"Hmm? Oh, him. Ha. Ha. I had completely forgotten about him." There was a sproinging sound, and the metal hand clenched into a fist, spazzing upwards, and then slamming down between the wolf's legs. "Whoops."

"Aaaagh, you mother fucker!" Shadow covered his bulge with his good hand, tears rolling up in his eyes. "What the hell, why did you do that?"

"Oh, it wasn't me, it's the arm. Obviously." the pony snorted, and then jammed a little screwdriver between a couple cables. "Sometimes they get pissed off is all, have some long-held stressed they just need to vent out. Some even say that some cybernetics develop a mind... of their own."

The wolf laughed, massaging his still aching nuts. "You're a fucktard, you are."

"Fucktard I may be, but your arm is fixed, nonetheless. You are a new wolf. Free to go about the land, to carouse and cavort and inseminate all you please, and -"

Slam. The door to the pony's workshop dingled gently as the wolf closed it behind him. His hand was working, again, so he was done with that guy. The office smelled faintly of old sweat and Shadow was pretty sure he saw some my little pony porn stashed in the corner.

He clenched his fingers into a creaking fist, and then stretched them back out again. Splayed, powerful. He pulled his arm in close to his chest, and then stretched it back out. Yeah, it was fine. Even that old creaking sound he'd hear when he twisted his wrist, sometimes, was gone.

The door closed behind him, at his own home, and that's when he cussed. Loudly. Profusely. He still didn't have a fucking lighter.

Chapter Three

The wolf clenched his fist, dragging it down the wall, mind spinning with that irritable, cranky Itch that came with lack of cigarettes. He could not stand it. He paused, then turned.

That smell.

He sniffed at the air. He could smell it. Nicotine. Tar. A hint of arsenic. He raised his nose, stomach gurgling softly. It was in the living room. He stomped back down the hallway, the smell getting stronger as he went. Into the main room he stormed, where he saw the door, hanging open. The smell. It was outside!

The screen door slammed against the siding of the house, bouncing back enough to clip him in the tail as he sprung out. He didn't care. He stalked out into the street, hip checking a bunny rabbit girl with a stack of girl scout cookies as he went. The cookies went flying, the girl went flopping into the grass, and Shadow kept following his nose. He veered right, sliding into the grass, and slid into a loping trot.

His heart raced as he heard the girl bawling behind him. The sound faded, his vision darkening around the edges, eyes dilating as he got closer, Closer, -closer. Down the sidewalk, around the corner, and there it was. A sweet, glowing red cherry coal, hanging from the lips of a fox.

He knew the fox, vaguely. He lived a block or two away, and Shadow had passed by him once or twice, always kind of shaking his head on the inside. What was the point of wearing one of those cheap leather vests, the kind with no buttons or zippers? You might as well wear a shawl. And that stupid, Stupid haircut. Foxes are supposed to be red, or brown... or gray or whatever color they are born to be. Shaving half your head, and fluffing the other half up, and then dying it black and orange, and that stupid petulant rebellious expression, and

So pretty much Shadow had had enough of that fox by the time he was close enough to slap him, and that's exactly what he did. He hadn't meant to. He had meant to grab the smoke that hung from the fox's thin, ring studded lip, but his arm twitched, the cybernetics over calculating or something, and he cuffed the faggot right in the cheek.

The fox, who's name started with a B, Bernie or Bridgette or something, stumbled backwards, a paw moving to grab at his cheek. He quickly righted himself though, that smoke miraculously still dangling, and moved back to Shadow.

"Hey man, you got a problem?" The fox chirred. Shadow opened his mouth, staring at that cig, drool forming in the bottom of his muzzle. Then he felt the slender paw sliding against the front of the wolf's worn slacks, gripping softly at his thick bulge. "Cuz, I mean, if you do, we can take this into an alleyway..."

Shadow reached up, grinning to the little fox as the slut rubbed up and down his forming bulge. He took the fox's spiked leather harness, into the grasp of his smooth metal fingers, and with his other, fleshy paw, carefully plucked that smoke from those grinning lips.

He took it, bringing it to his own lips, and drew deep. Instantly he felt that angry, restless itch subside as the toxin settled through his body, killing off the anxiety, slowly choking off that nervous antsy energy. Good. Gooooood.

"Yeah, man. Sounds good," he said, grinding his hips forward and into that fox's paw. "I hope you like it Rough though, once I start, I'm not going to stop..."

"Sure man, I like it rough," said the fox, and led the tail-wagging wolf down into the alley way. They were between an ice cream shop and a shut down Blockbusters, the gritty pavement stained with the old, sour, rancid sorbets and ice creams that had been tossed out by the owners long ago.

None of that mattered, of course, as the wolf puffed on his smoke, ripping off and peeling that leather vest down over the skinny fox's shoulders. He wasn't lean, as much as he was gaunt, his bones peeking out enough through his close cropped fur that he looked almost skeletal. A far cry from the nicely meaty cream on the wolf, the thick, almost shaggy pelt pooling around his frame like so much foamy cream. Only the thick pink ridges left by former battles marred that otherwise. He turned around, those metal fingers locked into the O-ring in the center of the fox's harness, just under his pecs. That arm strengthened, slamming the fox back against the wall. Shadow didn't remember Telling his arm to do that, persay, but he hadn't Minded the idea once he saw it happen. The fox was, after all, just a worthless punk and, if that smell was any indication, punks like that kind of abuse.

Byron? Brian? just grunted at the slam, his paws moving to his groin, unzipping his skinny bootie pants. "Fuck, man, you're a beast!" He slid to the left, then to the right, trying to pull the ring out of the wolf's fingers, but there was no way out - the metal fingers had crimped, folding the O into a figure 8, the leather straps squeezing tighter around the vulpin's frame.

"That's right. I am. You got some more cigs? And a light?" Shadow growled, the darkness of the alleyway allowing Bernice?, Bernard? to see the red glow of the wolf's one eye, dimly radiating from deep in his skull.

"Uh, uhm, Uh, Yeah, but... but..." the fox stammered, his paw flicking up and down on his slender pink erection. Shadow glanced at it, smirking at the punk's attempt at being metal. A prince albert, delicately hanging from the end of his otherwise untouched shaft, just a little bling there. "... but it's gonna COST you!?"

"Yeah? Fine." The wolf reached down with his real paw, and grabbed the front of his own worn pants. A deft unbuckle of a button, and a yank of a paw, and he had his own thick maleness wobbling out into the open. It was still sheathed, the thick white flap of wolf flesh weighted down with the three heavy barbells that peeked out on either side from underneath. He grasped it, skinning it back, and there was a soft... rattling sound. Like the sound you get when you walk with a pocket full of change.

"So how do you wanna be paid? In your ass, or in your dirty whore mouth?" He smirked, pulling that sheath forward again, and back again. More of that rattling sound, and the fox, seeming just as rattled, just stared.

"Dude, that's so, I mean, Wow, even your sac?"

"Fuck yeah, man, I don't play around with pussy rings like that," he sneered, and let go of the fox's chest harness.

That hand slid down, and snaked onto the fox's cock instead. Slowly, the wolf turned the fox's dick to the side, and then more, pulling the fox in such a way that he had to twist to stay comfortable. Twist he did, more and more, until he was facing away from the wolf.

He peeked over his shoulder, trying to get another glimpse of the wolf's heavily studded meat. It wasn't just the barbells in his sheath, he had a ladder of eight more nine gauge barbells, jutting through the soft flesh like so many hungy fangs. Shadow smiled, as the fox in front of him squirmed against the wall, that perky, shaved butt cleft clenching at the air.

"Guess it's my choice." he slid his pierced monster, juicily thick, the flesh filling the space between the beads of the barbells that pierced from one side to the other. He pushed it down, cock head nestling into those thin, grimy butt cheeks, and with one firm, slow push, started cramming his half hard into the fox.

He made sure to give the fox a reach around, he wasn't a total ass of course, stroking and rubbing the fox's dick with his robotic arm as the punk grunted and took that thick dick. It only took a few inches lodged in that soft poop-chute to get the fox squirming deliciously against him. That, of course, got him stiff enough to stuff the rest in. He could feel each barbell, stroking against that outer rim. He snickered, counting the inches, each marked with it's own stud.

"Five inches, not bad, fox," he growled, the fox whimpering, clenching around him. "Six, half there," he teased.

"Dude, not so, Ungh, not so rough! I'm not used to, urrrrrrggh..." The fox crammed his forehead against the gritty cinder blocks of the wall, panting heavily. Shadow was slightly surprised, and rather pleased with himself. He wasn't even half way in and the fox was already overwhelmed.

"Still got four more bars to go," he said, and then, just because he could, he sank those last four piercings, and the inch or two beyond them that led to his knot, into the horny twinkie in front of him.

He twisted and stroked and squeezed that slippery fox dick on the other side, his arm whirring softly as it flexed quickly back and forth. He pulled his hips back, feeling the Tugs the other direction against each of his barbells, grunting as the fox clenched harder, paws beating against the wall.

"Come on, now, you can take it, be a good little foxie slut," the wolf growled playfully. He rested his other paw on the fox's shoulder, and speared in. And started really fucking that twink-punk up.

The wolf's dick was a nice size, bulgingly thick without being massive. It would have been a fun ride for a normal person, if it didn't have all those piercings. When he was savagely humping into a tight, receptive backside, like he was now? those piercings acted more like the tips of fangs than like pleasure bumps, digging and scraping back and forth against that tender inner lining.

Sluts always went craaazy, when he started really shagging them, and this one was no exception.

"Oh gods, stop, please, pleeeeease" squealed the fox, as the wolf skillfully clenched and worked his fingers to get that fox to spurt his load.

"Not until I hear your juices hit the wall," the wolf growled, chewing on one pierced ear, gnawing at the tender flesh around the piercing.

"No! No, I don't wanna -rrrrgggggggggh!" The fox slumped, then, and the wolf snickered as he heard the wet splatting sounds, just squeezing a little bit, as he rested his knot against the fox's snug little hole. Well it wasn't snug, anymore, really, it was more an inflamed, torn, bleeding hole. He knew that he had given the fox exactly what he wanted, though, and he casually tugged and pulled that thick meat from the punk's backside.

The fox sagged down, sliding against the wall and curling into a fetal position on the floor. The wolf chuckled, "Yeah, that's pretty standard, not many who can handle this wolf," he reassured, casually going through the pockets in the fox's vest. A pack of smokes, and, there it was. Just a cheap, plastic Bic light, but that would be enough for him.

"Thanks, dude, see you around," he chuckled to the fox, who groaned deliriously in response.

Chapter Four

Shadow let the door close behind him, a second smoke giving it's last, stained contribution to the wolf's fix. It had been, all in all, not a bad day. He would need a new zippo, but he could do that tomorrow. He had pegged a punk, and a squirrel, and gotten his arm checked out.

He watched as it flexed and unflexed it's fingers, eyes narrowing. The glitches in it were a bit of a nuisance. And what was that...

He brought his paw up to his muzzle, sniffing at it. There was pink and grey... chunks... ground into the seams and joints of the cyber hand. Shadow sniffed at them, nose wrinkling.

They definitely smelled like sex. Sex and blood. The fox must have had some nasty infection or something. He wiped his hand off on a towel in the kitchen, then wandered back to the bedroom. Those pants were shuffled down, stepped out of, the shirt peeled out of as well.

The wolf's thick cock remained bulging and stiff, bouncing in the open now. He yawned, stroking his belly, sliding his metal paw down to stroke along his shaft.

Perhaps he was still just pumped up from the fox-fucking, but the fingers felt warm against his naked skin. Usually they felt cool, inert. He doubted his cock was cooler than usual, and they felt warm, though, so that could mean only one thing. It was warmer.

No less responsive, though. He grunted, eyes closing, feeling the finger tips caress along the sides of his shaft. The metal click-click-clicked along each piercing's ball-caps. Up to the tip, and he formed a loose fist for grind his hips up into. It was smooth, unyielding, impersonal. The wolf closed his eyes, sitting down on the edge of the bed. His other paw rested on the mattress, as he fondled himself, pushing his fist down along his erection. Clk-clk-clk-clk-clk. Then pulling back up. Clk Clk Clk Clk Clk. His nuts tightened. Nice.

He could almost feel, like, an electrical tingle through his fingers, where they contacted his skin. If he didn't trust Ed so much, he'd almost think that the pony had left a wire loose, or something. He clickety clicked his paw upwards, to the tip. A proud, thick prine Albert jutted out from the handsome cap of the wolf's shaft, and he grasped it softly between two fingers.

His eyelids fluttered, the wolf gasping as he felt that tingling sliding down through the precum of his shaft, tingling intimately through his groin. He rubbed those fingers together, the movement lightly, gently twisting the metal ring against the tight piss-lips of his shaft. It was so sensual, so close, so ecstatically subtle, and-

And, That's when his paw ripped the Prince Albert out. There was a twitch, a jerk, and a popping sensation at the end of his shaft. He opened his eyes, to find his own paw right before them, holding a bronzed ring. Clinging to it, was a small piece of pink flesh. Then it started to burn, and looking down, he saw that, Yup. That was some of his cock head. His dick was pulsing out warm jets, out onto his belly, in smooth strong spurts, but it was blood, not jizz.

He looked at his hand, again, the metal fingers pinching the little metal ring from his cocktip. As he watched, they let go, and his arm creaked softly as it started to reach down for his cock again.

"Fuck!" He grabbed it by the wrist, to pull it back, but it was like arguing against a charging rhino. It dragged his other hand with it, down to his cock. The fingers traced against the underbelly of his still stiff erection, and he felt them go Clk.... Clk.... Clk. He grabbed his cock with his other paw, yanking it to the side, and as he did, it grabbed one of the barbells that speared it. He yanked his dick one way... and he yanked his piercing another, and he felt the oversized ball-bearing at the end of it POP into the meat of his dick, sliding down, into, Through the scar tissue that lined the piercing. Ripping it open as it went.

He shouted in his thick, bassy voice, jumping to his feet and running into the kitchen. Ed. He had to call Ed. As he ran, his dick wiggled back and forth, even as those fingers roughly, cruelly pulled that barbell out through the other end.

The phone was hanging on the wall, and he picked it up, even as he felt those warm, alien, metal fingers starting to caress his shaft again. Shit shit shit, what was Ed's number?? nine seven five... no... nine five seven... seventeen... he hit the restart button and tried again. Focus. Like a marine!

Focus.

The numbers flashed in sequence, each one pressed by steady fingers. Bip-bip-bip-bip, beeeeeeeeep! He jammed the five button down, grunting as he felt another barbell being slowly slid, twisted with. He mentally pulled his arm away from his crotch, expecting the normal response of it responding, but it felt the same as it did when he dropped the lighter. Inert, dead, unresponsive. Only he could -feel- the twitchings of some response. It just wasn't synced with him. He grunted as he felt the metal barbell pop slowly though his flesh, being pulled through just like the first one. Bleary eyed, he typed in the rest of the phone numbers, yelping into the receiver as he felt it pull free.

"Ed, where are you?" He muttered, as the phone on the other end rang, and rang, rang. "For crepe's sake, ANSWER THE GODDAMN PHONE!" And then, someone did. The phone clicked on the other end.

"Hello." No question, just a flat monotone, with a hint of excitement to it.

"Ed! I need your help!"

"Not now, man. My new toy is finally working."

"ED! IT'S MY ARM! IT'S OUT OF CONTROL!"

There was a horrible sound of a click, followed by the dial tone. He glanced to the phone, where his hand had used his own barbell to hang it up. The fingers slid down over the phone, caressing the plastic container, before crushing it, crumpling and splintering the shell of it into the metal inside. It made a sad little dinging sound, and with a wrenching pull, it was ripped free of the wall.

Shadow staggered away, not wanting to believe it, as his own arm pulled, twisted, yanking the cord out of the wall as well. He realized he had two options. He had to get to Ed, before it maimed or potentially killed him. Or. He had to disable it himself. It whipped the phone in a circle, again and again, wrapping the cord around it's wrist. There was a screwdriver in the garage.

He bolted for it, running to the back of the house. Reaching for the door, and the silver limb, possessed and alien, shipped down. The remaining phone cord snapped around his wrist even as he twisted the door knob, and before he could push it open, it yanked back. The cord had been grasped by his hand, effectively noosing his other wrist. It twisted over his head, and then, impossibly, behind his back. He didn't even know it could do that! His other certainly couldn't, and he yowled as it twisted painfully. He had to fold his arm down and away to let the evil arm not snap his shoulder-blade in half. His arm was pulled further up along his back, then he felt a slight bit of tension, and then another yank. He tugged, but the loop around his wrist was know a cuff. His arm was tying him up. He threw himself at the door regardless, breaking it clean off of it's hinges.

The garage lay before him, meticulously cared for, equipment. He kicked at the door as it clattered at his feet, careening towards the table vice. It lay open, dormant, with a single shop light left on above it. He didn't have much time to process it, though, as his metal arm swung down, pulling the cord over his shoulder and snagging his arm tighter up his back. Then, abruptly, it twisted over his torso, sliding over his head, and pulled the cord back over his shoulder again. Only this time, it was wrapped around his neck in a loop.

With his one arm tied behind his back, he couldn't try to pull it off. It yanked at the cable. He tried to follow the yank, to prevent choking, which resulted in him stumbling forward, and bent over. He felt the metal slide against either side of his cock, and tensed, as the hand gripped him. Only this metal was rough, iron, cold. His knot wedged into it, and he realized that he has just fucked the vice on the table.

The possessed hand was already moving to the vice, wrapping the last ends of the cords around the handle. He twisted, pulling his hips back, going up on tip toes and flexing his dick to pull and strip it back out of that suddenly dangerous vice.

The garage door began to open. White light streamed underneath the wooden slats as they rolled up, creaking and clacking as they went. Someone was in his driveway!

The metal hand slid against his belly, and pushed down with it's palm, slowly grinding that thick wolf cock into the waiting clamps.

"No, No, NO!" He shouted. Despite that, his tail wagged as he saw the car pull forward. He recognized it immediately, the retro headlights, the optical cable outline. It was Ed.

"Ed! ED! Grab the shears from the wall, and cut me outta this thing!"

The hand was turning the crank on the vice now, the rough, worn metal clamps slowly coming together. What was between it had to yield, and he could feel the pressure building on either side of his knot, pushing inwards, crushing it together. It almost felt like tying with an ass, except for it being a bit of metal instead of a fox. That and it being painful as shit, and him not being aroused.

The car door opened, but the driver didn't get out. Shadow could see him hunched slightly over, tapping at his iPhone.

"ED! HURRY!" the crushing on his cock was unbearable, his knotbulbs crushed to nearly as flat as the rest of his dick, which was bulging, red, and swollen feeling. "I think it's gonna burst!"

There was a soft clicking sound, and Shadow looked down. The widest of his barbells were actually propping the sides of the clamp apart, keeping it from crushing further. "Oh, thank God."

Ed snickered, then slid out of the car. "Hey there Shadow, what's going on?" he said, moseying over, still holding his phone in front of him. He shook his head at the naked muscular soldier, bent over his own work bench. "Looks like a kinky game."

"Dude, I don't know what you did to my arm, but it's going completely haywire! Please, PLEASE, can you get those clippers from the wall over there? Cut this cord off my wrist? Or better yet, can you deactivate my arm before it fucking ruins my dick?"

"All in good time. You say it's gone haywire?" The pony snickered again. "I told you sometimes they get possessed, but you didn't believe me, did you?" He wandered over to the wall, choosing between a pair of dykes and a carpet cutter. He chose the carpet cutter, and wandered over to the wolf, standing behind him.

"Yeah man. It's, uh, it's stopped right now, but it's got my dick in a clamp and it's, uh, it hurts, man, ah shit, I think if I didn't have these barbell piercings I'd have lost my dick by now."

"Oh, it didn't remove all of the piercings, first? Shame, that." The wolf felt the ponies three thick stubby fingers wrap around his hanging pouch, grasping firmly, squeezing it even. And pulling down. Ed stretched his nuts down, as the wolf struggled to look behind him.

"What the hell do you mean, Ed, why are you grabbing my nuts? Ed, what the hell did you do to my arm?" His voice was alarmed now, and he tried to donkey kick the pony, his foot thudding against the kneeling pony's side.

"Oh, just something that needed done Years ago." Shadow felt the blade against the side of his nutsack, cold and sharp and ready.

"I don't, is this about that twink last week? Fuck you, you had your chance, if you wanted him that bad you should have said something. I-Yieeeee!"

Shadow screamed as that blade slowly unzipped his scrotum - and it's contents - from his body. Ed continued, calmly, as he smoothly castrated those fat, unspent nuts from the handsome older wolf. "Oh, Shadow, that was the last straw. See, a month or two ago, I wound up meeting this tiger friend, and I was talking to him about things. You know, about your ways, and how you use up a twink and then kick them out. We both agreed it was... There goes one ball. Hope you liked having it. We both agreed that it was probably time to end your roaming ways. You know. Save a few for us. He engineered that capacitor lighter. Pretty clever, huh? You flick the switch and BAM, enough current to pop a couple of your arm's fuses blow through it. That squirrel you met last night? You fucked his older brother a couple months ago, left him out on the street with out his pants, wallet, anything. It was easy to recruit him to make the switch. Oh, what's that? Your last nut..."

Shadow was thrashing both feet out, grunting and yelping. The slice of the razor wasn't as painful, as it was humiliating. It was the jostling that hurt, each time he tried to stop Ed, his dick would be ground and twisted against the metal that crushed it so hard. He felt something POP inside his groin, a wet heat coursing anew through the crushed flesh. The twanging of nerves, sliced by the sharp smooth blade, carved into his soul. The release of long-straining tendons and cords as they were relieved of their burden, left his pain wracked brain reeling with the shock and realization. He could feel that blade, now, teasing his last nut, could feel the pony's fingers against his fuzzy pouch as it held it down.

"Oh, this will be a pleasure. As for the programming for hacking into your arm, and remotely controlling it with my iPhone? Well, my dear Shadow, didn't you know? There's an app for that." He chuckles. "Now, beast, why don't you beg for me not to cut your last nut off. Beg not to be a neutered puppy. Go on, you can do it."

Shadow seethed with rage. He turned his head, opening his mouth. Ed grinned wider, waiting for the inevitable pleading. He had waited, it would seem, such a long time to hear it.

He could keep waiting. Ed was a fighter, not a beggar. He spit, a slimy blob of mucus, splatting with a long sticky stream across Ed's smirking muzzle. That got rid of his cocky grin in a hurry. Ed scowled, and he felt that blade start to pull into his cords. Shadow was moving though.

He twisted his body. Yes, his cock was firmly trapped in that painful vice, and yes, twisting actually pulled the knife harder into his already half stripped scrotum, but he did it anyways.

He felt his baculum snap, cracking, digging into the already compressed flesh of his knotbulbs. He felt his root wrench free from inside him. He felt that spasm of pain as his other nut was fully stripped from him. He also felt that cable snap against his shoulder as he pulled back with his other arm, wrenching and breaking it with the motion. He turned away from the vice, feeling the gushing from his groin, and lifted one big muscular leg up, and plowed it right into the shaggy pony's chest.

Ed staggered backwards, the knife in one hand, and Shadow's dangling sack in his other.

"Oh, want it rough, huh?" He kept taking steps back, as Shadow stalked towards him. "Well then, you'll love this!" He threw the scrotum down on the ground. "Say good bye, Shadow!"

Shadow lunged, but was tethered back. His hand still gripped the handle of the table vice, gripping it firmly. He yanked again, watching with growing dread as the crazy inventor smiled back at him. Be brought one grungy shod hoof up, pausing for effect. Shadow growled, eyes glazing red with fury. Ed brought his hoof down with a CRUNCH on the whole of that handsome pouch. White and grey streaks splattered in a starburst out from underneath, shooting a foot or two in every direction. He lifted his hoof back up, and the oatmeal like remains of Shadow's masculinity lay, in a puddle, on the floor.

Except the scrotum. It stuck to the horse's hoof, clinging like the proverbial bit of toilet paper. Ed wiggled his hoof from side to side, but it slapped wetly around, refusing to yield.

"What in the," he said, and bringing it up, carefully pulled it away. The wolf's scrotum had borne a solid steel ring through the neck of his sack, and when it had gotten stomped on, it had embedded itself into the hoof's keratin. Pulled free, the pony chuckled, examining the completely undamaged circle of metal.

"Oh, this will do nicely. I've needed a transductor for some time now." He gave the wolf a wink, and turned away, heading back into his car.

"You can come after me, if you want, Shadow. You'll have to find me, of course, first. You'll also have to plan on never using that side of your body again, big guy. Good luck. I'll make sure to let the club know you'll be... sitting out the next couple Twink nights."

With a revving engine, Ed sped off, leaving the wolf trapped by his own arm in his garage.

Shadow Would get revenge, of course. He could get a couple new implants too, if he needed. Maybe that tiger buddy from the gym could hook him up with some regenerative serum, or something.

Crk. Crk. Crrrrrrrrk.

Oh shit.

The vice.

Shadow looked back down. His cock was still in it. The end was a ragged wound, dripping Shadow juices into a splatterpuddle on the floor. And that metal hand was twisting, turning, compressing the plates together. As he watched, the barbells began to bend, folding into the flesh that trapped them. Others bent outwards. He wedged his fingers in, trying to pull it out, any of it, but it was too late.

Sppppppppllllllllt.

His knot popped, the thick flesh compressed to the point of liquification, a thick, toothpaste like red pate of wolf flesh squeezing out of the top and, he was sure, the bottom. He watched in despair as the clamps closed off more and more, the seam splitting up the length of his shaft, like a ballpark frank. Even if he could stop the arm now, his cock was ruined, dog-meat. Useless. He watched his proud lupine shaft get crushed into useless hamburger by the vice, which stopped only a centimeter or two away from each other, the top and side and bottom clotted with his ruined flesh.

God, he needed a smoke.