FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

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Day two of Roger's new life with Julie continues.

There are three parts prior to this one. I recommend you read them first. There's some rather racy elements to them, so if that bothers you then I'm gonna assume you know what to do.

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The tires on his car screamed as Roger whipped out of the McDonald's parking lot. He jerked the wheel hard to avoid a green pick-up. The truck jammed on the brakes and blasted its horn as he careened past its front bumper. He pulled the wheel the opposite direction and slammed the car into second gear as he crossed the road. His tires momentarily lost traction and he entered traffic in a power slide. A white minivan had to swerve into another lane to avoid him, fortunately the lane was empty. "Shit!" Julie said as two of the egg McMuffins tumbled out of her lap and onto the floor. Roger regained control of the sedan and jammed the pedal to the floor. The car responded quickly, leaving the shaken drivers of the minivan and pickup behind.

I don't need this! Not today! The speedometer's needle climbed past eighty miles per hour as he blasted by an eighteen wheeler. The trucker blared his horn at him. What the hell is the speed limit on this street? Thirty-five? I need to slow down.

His speed dropped to forty just as he spotted a police cruiser pull onto road in front of him, lights flashing and siren blaring.

FUCK!

Roger held his breath as the cruiser sped by the opposite direction. He watched it in the mirror until it disappeared in the distance. He breathed a sigh of relief.

Good. He didn't have the description of my car. It was very nondescript anyway. Common vehicle in an unassuming color. Roger pulled into a parking lot and turned off the car.

Julie was practically bouncing in her seat. "That was awesome! You beat the shit out of those guys!"

"I didn't beat them up," Roger defended, "I just restrained them."

Bullshit, Roger. You broke that wolf's wrist, and probably the fox's nose.

"And don't say that word," Roger scolded, "It's not ladylike."

"You said it," The young ferret defended, "You said way worse things back there."

"That's different, I wanted them to know I was serious."

There are some furs that have to train themselves to fight, and there are some who are just naturally good at it, Roger was the latter. He had never taken a martial arts or self defense class. Never studies boxing or wrestling. Didn't learn any shady techniques on the street. He just instinctively knew how to hurt others if the need arose. Sometimes the need came up in odd places.

It wasn't exactly an everyday trip to a fast food restaurant. Everything started out fine. Julie and Roger went in to the crowded Mcdonald's, Julie picked out a seat while Roger stood in line with a host of furs of varying species and patience levels. There were few places with a more diverse mix of people then a fast food restaurant. Furs tend to seek their own. Pack and herd mentalities of ancient times were still strong. Unlike classic restaurants that would serve either vegetarian or carnivore fare, places like Mcdonald's didn't differentiate between predator and prey customers, they catered to each equally. Although predator and prey types did tend to stand in different lines and sit in different parts of the restaurant. Prehistoric habits die hard.

The heavy set, middle aged badger lady in front of him made the best of the long line by engaging in small talk with other patrons.

"Is that your little girl?" She asked Roger.

"Oh, uh, no. That's my niece." He told her.

"She's darling." She said waving to Julie, who gave a little wave back, looking a bit confused when she did. Roger wasn't trying to be engaging, but it didn't seem to matter, "You know, I never had a little girl. Five boys. My little one, Howard, is about her age. He's a football player you know, he plays running back."

"Running back, huh?" Roger said, allowing himself to be drawn into the conversation, "He must be pretty quick."

"You know, not really," The badger was a paw talker, her paws dancing around in dramatic fashion as she spoke, "But he's so strong that he just runs right over the other players. You know what they call him? The Steamroller." She laughed a bit louder then necessary, "Have you ever heard such a thing? Steamroller. I don't think it's nice, but he likes it."

"That's pretty amazing." He told her. A male fox in a business suit got in line behind him. Roger could practically feel the impatience and stress pour off the canid.

"My oldest boy, Johnathon," The badger continued with her one sided conversation. "He's gonna get married next month."

"You must be happy."

"I don't know what I feel about it." Her paws fluttering at the sides of her face, "His fiance is a wolverine, I never did care for those interracial things. He says he's in love with her and there's nothing I can do to change that. If I wanna see my grandchildren I'll have to keep my mouth shut, but I don't have to like it, no I don't. And you know all their children are gonna just look like wolverines, that's how it works you know. They always look like the mama."

"That's true." Roger agreed. The fox behind gave an exacerbated sigh.

"I don't know," The badger said, "When everything is said and done I guess I'll be okay wi--"

"Aw, comon!" The fox suddenly blurted out, "There's another register right there, why don't you open it?" He pointed to a fourth cash register on the end.

The normal din of conversation hushed and furs in the lines looked back at him uncomfortably. The fox looked back at them indignantly. "What the hell do have to stand here and listen to this lady's problems for?" He indicated of the badger, "Just open another line so I can get out of here!"

A nervous looking young gazelle behind the counter spoke up, her uniform was different then the other employees, she must have been the manager, "I'm sorry, sir. We're a little understaffed at the moment, and that register doesn't work."

"How the fuck is that my problem?" The fox was practically in hysterics, "I have to be at work in fifteen minutes! Get this shit moving!"

"Sir, we're doing the best we can."

"Your best isn't good enough!" He nearly screamed, "I want to talk to your manager!"

"I am the manager, sir." The gazelle pointed out the obvious.

"You?" The fox seemed to be lacking in the comprehension department, "You're barely out of diapers! Why would anyone make a kid, let alone a grazer, a manager?"

Roger had had enough. A murmur from other furs in the restaurant suggested they had as well. It was bad enough that the fox was completely unreasonable and vulgar, but to start throwing racial slurs at a young doe was beyond tolerable.

"Why don't you shut the fuck up?" Roger said to him with an even voice.

The fox shot him a menacing glare, "How dare you? Do you know who I am?"

Roger met the glare with his own, "I don't care who you are, all I know is you owe everyone here an apology for having to share the same putrid air that comes out of your muzzle."

"How dare you?" He repeated stepping in closer, trying to intimidate Roger.

Let's see what he's packing between his legs. Roger thought to himself.

"The rest of us were having a pleasant morning until you walked in here and started vomiting your stupidity on us. Shut up or get out!" Roger had a way of looking at others if he wanted to. He was never sure exactly what it was, a glint glint in his eye, the way his brow furrowed, the flair in his nostrils, or the slight, humorless smile. Maybe it was a combination. It bordered psychopathic and stopped just shy of murderous. The fox probably had twenty or thirty pounds on him and was doubtlessly stronger, but he cowed to "the look" nonetheless.

"That's what I thought." Roger said as the fox stepped back.

A castrated shit.

The fox backed toward the door, gaining courage as he did so. "Fuck you!" He shouted at Roger, "Fuck you, asshole!" punctuating the statement by pointing at the ferret. Then he turned and slammed open the door as he left. It was a small miracle that the glass door didn't shatter. The fox shouted, "Fuck you!" Once more through the window before stepping out into the parking lot and very nearly getting hit by a white sedan. "Fuck you!" He told the driver.

The door may not have broken when he left, but the tension in the store certainly did. Several furs burst out laughing and the conversations resumed. Roger felt a little uncomfortable with the approving glances that everyone gave him. Julie was giggling uncontrollably. Taking that guy on was out of character for him. Usually he'd just let a dumb ass be a dumb ass. Something in him wanted the fox to take a swing at him so Roger could bust his jaw.

"Mmm-mnn. That fox got out of the wrong side of the wrong bed this morning." The badger lady told him, "I thought you were gonna strike him."

"Believe me, I really wanted to."

"Nobody would have blamed you." She placed a paw on his arm, "I sure wouldn't have. Can you believe that? Calling that poor girl the g-word! Does he kiss his mama with that mouth?" Then she leaned in closer to Roger and said in a hushed voice, "You know what? I bet he's a PreCog."

Roger nodded in agreement and looked at the manager. The gazelle looked shaken. One of the other employees was consoling her. As a member of a predator race Roger could only imagine what it was like for a prey. For untold millennia they were a food source. After civilizations rose from the prehistoric ashes the predators continued to consume prey races. Even today there are some small holdouts in the world where it is still common and accepted that the intelligent prey are hunted and eaten. Up until only a hundred and fifty years ago the same was true for the country where Roger lived. Prey were slaves and food. Then an age of enlightenment occurred. Religions and intellectuals alike began to agree that the exploitation of the prey races was an abomination, thus The Articles of Sentience was born.

The Articles was a guideline for which species were acceptable for exploitation by the predators and which were not. It used both awareness of self and intellectual capacity to determine which species were off limits. All mammals were protected under The Articles, the last to be added to the list being the bovines. Strong political opposition from the beef industry kept them off even after aquatic mammals like whales, dolphins and porpoises made the list. Several species of avians were included, mostly parrots and macaws. Raptors were already considered a predator species and didn't need the protection. Chickens and turkeys, which showed no capacity for either self awareness or intelligence above animal are the primary food for most prey now. Fish are a second as a food source, followed closely by insects. As of yet no species of fish, reptile, or amphibian has made the list, even despite the fact that many of them could be classified as a predator. Although there were some groups that claimed that The Articles were written by mammals, and as such couldn't judge species that had such an alien form of communication like fish, reptiles, or even insects. Of course there were a few extremist groups that seem to want to make it impossible for carnivores to eat anything without feeling guilty.

While The Articles of Sentience did protect many species from becoming part of the food chain, it didn't go so far as to say that they were equal. There was a movement by many predators to keep the prey "in their place" so to speak. Having them in the job market was a threat, especially since a large part of the market that had been based on exploitation of prey was completely decimated. In truth, acceptance of The Articles by a country did have an immediate adverse affect on the economy. There were some countries that to this day were still trying to overcome these difficulties.

Equality groups such as The Ungulate Order and The Foundation for the Progression of Herbivores fought for many years to advance equal rights. Racist groups such as Predatory Cognition (commonly called PreCog) worked against them. Openly at first, but as fur rights made huge strides in suffrage, equal rights, and the abolition of segregation, PreCog became unacceptable in polite society and was driven underground. It survives to this day by using alternative media forms like the internet to continue to spread their message of hate and bring new members into the fold. "If you mingle with prey you become the prey" is one of their more recognized slogans.

Roger and the badger continued their small talk for the next several minutes until their orders were taken. Despite the annoyance that the fox displayed the service was acceptable considering the amount of customers.

During his preoccupation with placing the order Roger had missed the two young male canids as they came in the door. A wolf and a fox, both mid to late teens and wearing varsity jackets from a local high school basketball team. They nosed at the air once entering. Their keen sense picking up something besides the fried food. The wolf gave his friend a mischievous grin, and gestured towards Julie who was sitting patiently with her forepaws on her lap.

"Here you go, sir." The manager said to Roger as she brought him the tray of food, "Thank you for taking care of that little problem, I gave you a little something extra."

"Oh... well, thank you." Roger replied, noticing the two extra Mcmuffin sandwiches on the tray, "But that wasn't necessary, I kinda enjoyed it."

"Not as much as I did." She said with a wink.

Roger smiled and nodded to her as he turned away. The tray felt a bit tipsy with four sandwiches and two large orange juices on it. He had to keep a close eye on it as he walked over to where Julie was sitting, so he didn't notice that something was wrong until he was nearly to the table. Julie had chosen to sit on the bench side of the table, and the two canines had trapped her there by sitting on either side of her. The wolf was stroking the fur on the back of her head as he talked to her and the fox had leaned into her personal space. He found her scent extremely interesting. She looked at Roger with a "help me" expression, the two were frightfully intimidating to her.

"Excuse me, gentlemen," Roger said, "But I don't believe the young lady cares for the attention."

"Fuck off, pops," The wolf said dismissively, not even looking at Roger, "I'm busy here."

"Yeah, get lost, pops." The fox agreed.

Pops?

Roger furrowed his brow and gave a half smile, half grimace. Any dignified varsity player should be trying to feel up one of the cheerleaders from school, or at the very least hung over in bed on a Saturday morning.

What the hell is wrong with everyone today?

"Pardon me," Roger said to the family of lemurs sitting at an adjacent table, "Do you mind if I set this here?" It wasn't really a question since he set his tray down before they had a chance to answer.

"Uh, sure." The elder female answered, making it official. Roger was still jacked up from the encounter with the first fox. Getting disrespected by a couple of wet behind the ears cubs didn't help matters.

"Listen you two dingbats," He said, failing miserably to keep his voice calm, "I don't know if this shit flies at nap time in school, but out here in the real world there are consequences for being an asshole."

Roger had the wolf's attention now. He slowly stood up, probably expecting his larger size to frighten the ferret. "Are you trying to start something, old man?"

"No," Roger told him, "I'm going to end something if you two don't walk away."

The fox burst out laughing. "You don't really think you can take Tony, do you? He's the captain of our team!"

"That and five bucks will get you a value meal here," Roger said unimpressed, "With a small drink."

Tony thought about it for a moment and decided he had just been insulted. He moved closer to Roger. The wolf's stature was impressive, over six and a half feet tall, probably better then two-hundred and fifty pounds. He towered head and shoulders over Roger.

The wolf jabbed his finger into the ferret's chest. "What the fuck ya gonna do now?"

No one ever protects their fingers.

Roger snagged Tony's digit and wrenched it back. The wolf yelped and tried to throw a punch with his other paw. The attack was sloppy, grazing the side of Roger's head. The strike had thrown Tony off balance and the ferret used the opening to gain more control over his opponents arm. Using both paws to twist Tony's wrist, straighten the arm and force it back up behind the back. Tony grunted in pain and there was a harsh grinding, like gravel, that Roger could feel in the wolf's wrist. Roger stepped on the back of the knee and shoved him forward, bringing the giant down. The wolf slammed down onto the table in front of Julie and the fox who both wore a nearly identical expression of dismay. The sturdy, fast food table was bolted solidly to the floor. The lack of give had knocked the wind out of the wolf and Roger could now control him with one paw.

The fox snapped out of his shock quickly, "I'll fucking kill you!" He screamed bearing his teeth as he came over the table at Roger.

Entering a fight face first. Dumb.

Roger intercepted the attack by grabbing the top of the fox's muzzle with his free paw and pulling down. The fox's center of gravity was thrown off and he stumbled over the table and fell down in front of Roger. The fox flailed as he went down and managed to catch the ferret with a painful kick between the neck and left shoulder. The fox continued trying to kick at him frantically from a prone position. Actually striking his friend more times then Roger. The wolf groaned feebly at each hit.

Roger still had a firm grasp on his muzzle, he positioned his thumb across the front of the fox's nose and squeezed, "Stop that or you'll be eating through a fucking straw!" A canine's nose was the most sensitive part of its body, in more ways then one.

"Ahh! Ah! Okay! Dude! Chill!" The fox settled down, but Roger wasn't ready to let go of him or the wolf just yet.

"Hey, honey," He looked at Julie, "Are you okay?"

"Y...yeah, I'm fine." She regarded him with awe.

Roger glanced back towards the kitchen behind the counter. The same manager that had given him the free food was on the phone. It didn't take a genius to figure out who she was calling. There was a hush in the restaurant, everyone was watching him, a number standing to see over the partitions. Several patrons had their cell phones out and were either in the process of dialing or waiting for someone to answer on the line.

I don't need legal problems right now. Too many witnesses, too many stories that won't jive.

"Okay, baby," He said to Julie, "We have to leave right now. I want you to--"

He sensed that something was wrong. Out of the corner of his eye Roger saw the fox fumble in his jacket pocket and pull out something that reflected a glint of light. There was an unmistakable metallic click of a switchblade.

"Stupid FUCK!" Roger squeezed down on the fox's muzzle has hard as he could. His thumb forced the nose out of position with a soft snap, blood gushed out of the nostrils. The fox shrieked like an infant and the knife clattered on the tiles. Roger released him, leaving the fox squalling on the floor trying to clutch at his face but finding it too painful to touch.

The wolf was regaining his wind, Roger glared at him. The canine didn't look quite so large anymore, he looked like the cub he was.

"You so much as fart before I walk out that door I'm going to feed you your balls," Roger hissed at him, "Are we clear?"

"Yes, sir."

True to his word, Tony didn't move when Roger let go. The ferret gathered up his sandwiches on the paper place mat, forming a makeshift bag. The family of lemurs had cleared away to a safer part of the restaurant when the fur started flying. Someone nearby cleared their throat uncomfortably. Another burst out into a short, out of place laugh.

"Alright, baby, take these and..." Julie wasn't next to him like Roger expected, she was still on the bench, leaning under the table, "JULIE! Let's go!"

"Coming, Uncle Roger." She slipped something into the pocket of her hoodie jacket, Roger didn't really think about it at the moment. He jammed an armload of breakfast sandwiches into her hands and picked up the two drinks.

"Get to the car, quickly." He said leading her out. The police response in this area would be less then two minutes, three if he was lucky. They ran across the parking lot and jumped into the car. Roger jammed the drinks into the cup holders. "Seat belt." He said putting his on and turning the ignition, Julie fumbled with the restraint device, having trouble doing so while holding the crude bag. Roger reached over and snapped it in place for her.

The window of the restaurant was lined with customers watching him. Many of them had camera phones out. If he pulled forward they could easily take a picture of his license plate and the police would simply show up at his home later. His die hard habit of backing into a parking spot as opposed to pulling in forward had so far kept the plate hidden. He looked out the rear view mirror. The parking space behind was empty, but it was separated from his spot by a curb and ten feet of landscaping. There was some small shrubbery, but no trees directly behind. His sedan wasn't exactly designed for off-road use but it couldn't be helped.

"Hang on." He threw the car into reverse and jammed the accelerator to the floor. The car lurched backwards and bounced over the curb with a horrific scraping noise. The shrubs offered no resistance, the car ran them down unhindered. The drive tires spat dirt and sod as they went over. The car dropped off the opposite curb with more scraping of the undercarriage. Roger had nearly lost control of the vehicle when the steering wheel tried to rip itself out of his hand. He came only inches from tearing the side off a subcompact as he pulled through the space. He felt something wet on his leg. One of the drinks had fallen out of the cup holder and busted open on the floor pan at his feet. Somehow Julie had manage to save the other one.

Roger had two rows of parked cars between him and the prying eyes of the store occupants. It should be more then enough. He gunned it out of the parking lot.

"Where did you learn to fight like that?" Julie asked him when they had parked afterward. She was eating one of the Mcmuffins that hadn't fallen on the floor.

"In the Army." He answered, eating one of the sandwiches that had. It wasn't technically a lie, he had taken some basic hand-to-hand in boot camp, but it didn't teach him anything he didn't already know.

"I never knew you were in the Army."

"It was before you were born." He explained, taking a sip of the orange juice. They were forced to share it now that the other one was a sticky mess under Roger's seat.

She thought about it for a moment, "Did you ever have to kill anyone when you were there?"

Roger frowned, more death talk, "No." Also not technically a lie. He never killed anyone while in the Army. In those days the military wasn't nearly as active, the world was far more peaceful, at least as far as the people in his country were concerned. He had spent four years delivering food and medical supplies to third-world nations, with an occasional uneventful peacekeeping mission.

He rubbed his shoulder where the fox had managed to kick him.

Same damn shoulder I fell on this morning. What the fuck is wrong with you, Roger? You could have handled that situation better.

He knew what it was. It was that primal urge he had when he masturbated earlier in the morning. Only this time it wasn't a need for release, but a need to assert his dominance.

We think we've progressed so far. Maybe deep down we're all still animals.

He looked down at the young kit sitting next to him. She was looking at him with concern.

Or maybe it's just me.

"Are you hurt?" She asked.

"Just a little battered." He told her, flexing his shoulder, "Nothing serious."

Julie climbed into a kneeling position on the seat facing him, "Let me see." She demanded.

"No, it's fine." He said.

Julie would not be denied. "You can't see your shoulder, let me look at it." She crawled onto his lap in a straddling position and tugged at his t-shirt. Roger winced.

"Wait, honey! Alright, just stop pulling!" Roger turned his head and pulled open the neck of the shirt. Julie probed at his shoulder gingerly, carefully smoothing aside the fur so she could see the skin.

"Oh, wow! It's black and blue!" She gasped, "He kicked you really hard!"

"Yeah, I know."

"I'm sorry."

Roger narrowed his eyes at her and smiled, "Why are you apologizing, baby?" He asked, "You didn't kick me."

"But it's my fault, it's because of my..." She looked down at herself, "...you know."

"Those boys needed to be put in their place," He told her, "Maybe now they'll treat the girls with some respect. In a sense, I did them a favor. Besides, I'd have fought their whole team for you, coach included." He tapped her lightly on the nose.

"Oh, yeah?" Julie said doubtfully, putting her paws behind his neck and moving in closer, "Would you win?"

"Of course I would," He said slyly, "There's no way I'm losing you." He poked her playfully in the ribs.

She gave a start, "Yah! Don't do that!"

"Uh oh," Roger said with a naughty grin, "Someone's ticklish." He raised his paws up in front of her slowly, wiggling his fingers.

"You better not!" She pulled away from him. A car horn blasted, startling them both. Julie looked around.

"Who's honking?"

"I think it's your butt."

Julie realized she had leaned against the steering wheel and dropped back down into her uncle's lap. The horn ceased. She buried her face in Roger's chest in humiliation and started laughing. Roger chuckled and put his arms around her. One of his paws fell on the back of her skirt. Something felt wrong. He put both paws on her rump.

"Honey, why aren't you wearing any panties?"

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Is it just me or are these getting longer?

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