FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

Takeoff was uneventful, after the goods were loaded into the cargo bay, and the Bastion refueled. Most of the crew had already gone to sleep, but the pilot and navigator remained awake for a spell as they moved the ship through unfamiliar territory. This was pirate-infested space, but so far, there had been no sign of anything. Edgar yawned as he glanced to his assistant, the boy skunk Peter 'Peony' Baker. Peony was what the pilot liked to call the young skunk, at least when the rest of the crew were not in earshot.

"Everyone's asleep, and it's dead out here.." muttered Peter with a small yawn, while he watched the monitors, "Why don't we just flip it onto autopilot, and switch on the SONAR to detect approaching ships?" The boyskunk's paw wandered over into the pilot's lap. The greyhound drew in a breath and glanced to his assistant. The boyskunk was soon playing his fingers along the pilot's crotch, and Edgar couldn't help but react in the typical way one does to this, but then regretfully brushed that paw aside. "What? It's not like pirates are just gonna attack out of nowhere while you're knot-deep in me," said the boyskunk. The two laughed, and then an awkward silence prevailed over everything else. Next time it was the pilot who's paw wandered, and the greyhound unzipped Peony's jeans to getter get his large paw in there. Those fingers were soon wrapped around the boyskunk's cock, which got hard in his grip. He turned on the autopilot, enabled the SONAR, and now the pilot's attention could turn on to his young assistant.

Peter brushed off the pilot's paw suddenly, got up and unzipped his pants. "I've got a better idea," he said. The boyskunk disappeared from the cockpit and came back shortly after with something from his quarters. A bottle of lubricant he bought while the ship was docked earlier that morning was set on the cockpit's control panel. He got down to his knees under the control panel, unzipped Edgar and very soon had his mouth wrapped around the greyhound's stiffening dick. Peony loved the feeling of cock growing hard in his mouth. He had to pull back every so often, so the tapered tip wouldn't hit the back of his throat. On his knees, Peter serviced his pilot happily, and bobbed his head to shift the dog's cock in and out of his muzzle. At the same time, the skunk had wiggled down his jeans. Just a quicky, before bed, he thought. Edgar handed the lubricant to his assistant, and his assistant took that dick from his mouth. Peter gave a knowing smile to his pilot, and then squirted some of the slick stuff onto his fingers. That paw went behind him and soon, the skunkboy had wiggled them into his ass. The skunk blissfully continued to nurse on Edgar's dick while he fingered himself for several moments, even managing to get it into his throat, and all but the knot past his lips. Peter had gotten better at this since he was first recruited a few months ago as a pilot's assistant for the Bastion. The dog grunted beneath the skunk's efforts and made eye contact with him. "That's enough," said Edgar, and so Peter got to his feet and turned around with his pants around his ankles. He bent over the control console and looked back lustfully over his shoulder. The dog gripped Peter by the thighs and brought his mouth under the boy's flagged tail to lick him all along his crack. Then the pilot stood, pressed the tapered tip of that big dog-dick to the boyskunk's tailhole, and without further hesitation, pressed in past the resistance of that tight muscle. Each of them let off a groan, and Edgar's mouth parted open wide as he panted with his tongue hanging out.

Peony's eyes widened and his ears perked up as Edgar slipped in far, stopping just short of the knot. The dog's big balls touched up against the skunk's testicles, and then Edgar chuckled, "It's officially gay now." Hard greyhound dick slid easily in and out of the skunk's tight young ass to the delight of both. Edgar took it slow at first to give his assistant time to adjust to his dick. Then his paw reached around and wrapped around the base of the boyskunk's dick. Each thrust pushed Peter's hips forward into that paw, and that fist pumped just as surely as Edgar's hips rocked. "Ready for it, Peony?" asked the dog, panting and bent over his lover, who in turn was bent over the Bastion's control console. Peter knew what he meant and responded, "Please..." after some hesitation. The knot pressed against the boy's anus and soon stretched him even wider. Peter balled his paws into fists and groaned. And then the knot slipped in, only to be tugged out as the pumping began. Peter's lower lip quivered and he tried to contain himself. It was getting hard to think. The thought had just occurred to him of where it was going to land when he came, just as that moment arrived.

The skunk's ass clenched down nicely around Edgar's rod and milked at it moments before the boyskunk reached orgasm. His dick tensed in Edgar's paw, and a hot spurt of skunkcum landed directly on the button where it pooled in the slightly concave red 'fire' button. Peter had the presence of mind shortly after to cup his paw under himself to catch his load. Inside, he felt Edgar's knot swell up as the dog followed him shortly behind to climax. Edgar let off a distinctly canine sound of pleasure as his balls tightened and hot dog jism was pumped into Peter's bowels. Thin and hot. Peter loved the feeling and together, the pair lost their minds in this shared bliss.

Peter opened his eyes when the alarm went off. A ship had been detected closeby, and was fast closing in from behind. There was no outrunning this craft. Edgar tried to pull out of Peter, but the two were still tied, so together they just fell back comically into the pilot's chair. With a shaky paw, Peter pushed the button to sound the wake-up sirens throughout the Bastion.

The remaining crew in their quarters were fast awakened. The captain rushed out of his quarters in just his skivvies, a pair of black boxer shorts which were all he slept in. He hurried to the cockpit. As did Harriet running behind him, but she at least had the presence of mind to put on her bathrobe. Her hair was all out of place though. They arrived in the cockpit in time to see a near miss as a pulse torpedo detonated directly in front of the ship's path.

The ship buckled as it coursed through the turbulence. The pilot and Peter were flung out of the pilot's seat and landed on the floor, still stuck together. What they were up to still hadn't registered in the panicked minds of Harriet and Cyrus. Rather, Cyrus took the helm, strapped in his safety belt, and stabilized the ship's flight path. Harriet felt queasy as she sat in the copilot's chair and looked at her own control console. "Pirate vessel, approaching from starboard. Beginning evasive maneuvers." The Bastion changed course but the other vessel was ready. In the wake of the ship, another torpedo detonated. The Bastion spun out of control as one of it's rear propulsion thrusters malfunctioned. In the heat of the moment, Harriet saw the attacking vessel in the viewscreen as it flew toward their disabled ship. A tractor beam immobilized the Bastion. They were preparing to board! "Fire on them, captain! Fuck!" shouted Harriet in fear. If the pirates boarded, they would probably steal everything of value, disable the life support system, and leave behind the crew to slowly suffocate as the disabled freighter drifted. "How!? You installed the weapons systems," shouted back the captain. Harriet bolted for the captain's console, and slammed her finger on the newly installed red fire button. An intense blue laser issued forth from the front of the bastion, and at the speed of light, a circular hole was made right through the cockpit of the enemy ship and severed the leg of one pirate, punched another hole in the cockpit door, and finally hit a keg of beer in the mess hall. The container's contents vaporized instantly and the metal container exploded, sending shrapnel all throughout the enemy ship's mess hall. These details of course were lost on Harriet and Cyrus as they watched the viewscreen. The cockpit decompressed explosively as a small hole in the hull became a very large one. "Holy fuck," exclaimed Cyrus as the two watched debris and bodies eject through that hole. Harriet lifted her shaking paw from the fire button and looked at her paw, confused, as a strand of pearlescent, sticky white goop still connected the tip of her finger to the button that just saved her life. It was only then that she realized Edgar and Peter were still 'stuck' to each other, comically so. Cyrus was lost in the awe of the carnage, and all Harriet could do was focus on the carnality in the cockpit.

"Ed, get your dick out of Peter's ass and DO YOUR FUCKING JOB!" screamed Harriet, which brought the captain's attention on the pair as well. The captain was nothing if not quick on his feet, and so he exclaimed, "Can't. We're tied. Besides, it looks like the captain did it for me. Gee, this sure is an embarrassing way for you to find out I'm fucking my copilot, isn't it?" Peter was too mortified for words and in his struggles, finally managed to pull off of Edgar. He got to his feet and managed about ten paces before he tripped over his own pants around his ankles and faceplanted right there in the commons. This of course happened just in time for the rest of the crew to be on their way back from the cargo bay. Matilda, the large brown bear sow was the first one to the commons. Peter was on his belly with his pants still on his ankles, with a telling trail of puddled pearlescence leading to him from the cockpit. Laughter erupted from her and spread infectiously through the ship, until even Peter was laughing. "That's the wrong cockpit, Ed," jested the captain as he got up to his feet, "Clean up the mess, you idiots. Harriet, go and assess the damage. I think one of our rear thrusters is fucked. See if you can get the FTL propulsion system back online, in case there's another one of those in this sector. I'll meet you in the engine room after I've changed my pants." The captain stepped around the approaching crew and hurried to his quarters without another word. "Good mornin' captain. I'll make the coffee!" said Matilda, as cheerfully as ever.

Hours later over strong black coffee and cigarettes, Harriet and Cyrus spoke in the engine room. "So what's it gonna take to get our ship out again?" asked the captain. Harriet shook her head and looked down as she spoke, "I'll need to get suited up and repair it from the outside of the hull, Captain. Unfortunately I don't have the parts I'll need. We have enough mobility to dock with the other ship's wreckage. Once there, I can see if there's anything to salvage that might get us back to Corpiarri for proper repairs. Maybe we can swipe their cargo and sell it, and rip off any disks they have lying around." Harriet's expression brightened a little and Cyrus gave her a playful punch on the shoulder as he replied, "I like the way you think, Harry. I hope those assholes have at least enough in their pockets to pay the ferryman to take them across the river Styx. Everything on that goddamn ship is now mine, as far as I'm concerned. Let's pack the Bastion to the gills with their ill gotten gains."

The two walked past Edgar and Peter being treated in the sick bay in the commons. Cyrus snorted and shot them a pissed-off look as he said, "Your scraped knees can wait. Dock with the wreckage. We're going to rob those dead bastards blind, so they'll be dead AND blind." Harriet laughed again as the two walked off, exclaiming, "Doomed to walk into walls in Hell for all eternity! I hope Old Scratch moves the furniture around daily in their crappy studio apartments in downtown Hell!" In the equipment storage, Harriet and Cyrus suited up, and Cyrus made a pit-stop to his quarters to get his pistol. Spirits were high despite the Rebellious Bastion's predicament.

Docking with the wreckage of the pirate ship was tricky, but before long, Harriet and Cyrus stood gloved hand in hand at the airlock. As it came open, they walked together, cautiously, into the wreckage. The caution was warranted, as a pirate who had managed to get into his suit ambushed them in the pirate ship's commons. He charged with a piece of wreckage, and swung for the glass visor of Harriet's spacesuit. She ducked as Cyrus drew his gun and redecorated the place with the pirate's brains.

It took several hours of surveying the wreckage and dismantling of the pirate ship's systems before Harriet had what she needed. In this time, the other crewmembers suited up and went through the wreckage and cargo. Numerous crates and cases were ferried painstakingly through the wreckage.

"What the shit are these?" asked Cyrus to Francine, the doctor. He was gesturing to four coffin-shaped boxes in the cargo bay. The vixen shook her head as she spoke, "Stasis crates. They're portable suspended-animation containers for transporting prisoners, slaves and the like. My sensor readings indicate that they're occupied, and whoever's in them are alive." She looked back to the captain and continued, "They won't be for very long. they draw power wirelessly from the ship's reactor core, and the stasis field is the only thing keeping them alive in there. I suggest we take them. Maybe somebody important is inside one of these." The captain nodded his approval and moved on.

Peter was sent back to the Bastion to get more oxygen. As the tanks were distributed, each crewmate disconnected the spent cannisters and reconnected the fresh oxygen tanks. The captain kicked the corpse of a pirate and exclaimed, "Once we get these last three loads out of here, I think we'll have successfully scoured the ship of all odds, ends, and discs. Alright, crew, let's get the fuck out of here.

Once safely on the Bastion with several crateloads of swag, four stasis crates, and all of the repair equipment they could possibly need, the non-essential personnel went back to sleep. In just over an hour, Harriet was able to get the propulsion systems working alright. The ship fell silent again, but Harriet and Cyrus sat and stood watch in the cockput for a while longer as they plotted a course for a return journey to Corpiarri. "Can't believe that worked out so well. What the fuck is that thing you installed on my ship?" asked the captain. Harriet laughed a little and took a drink of her coffee, then replied, "Arms dealer called it the Yamato Gun. Gave us a good deal on it too, 'cause I promised I'd waste some pirates with it." Harriet browsed the pirate ship's data files, salvaged from the wreckage on her tablet PC while Cyrus watched the screen with some small bit of paranoia. "Y'know, maybe I was a little hard on Ed and Pete. They were cleared to go to sleep, since everything seemed to be going well. Then again, didn't Pete shoot his load on the control console?" Cyrus mused this as Harriet made a face. She spoke, "Right on the fire button for our new toy. Can you imagine what deep shit we would be in if it stuck? I think you should throw him in the brig. Since we don't have one, you'll have to get a brig and throw his ass in there, until he learns to point away from delicate equipment." Cyrus grinned ear to ear as he looked to Harriet and said, "Wait, ON the fire button? So you... You stuck your finger right smack-dab in the middle of a big wad of Petey's cock snot." Harriet fumed at this, "Hey! Shut the hell up! I saved our lives by pushing that button!"

A silence prevailed over the cockpit after her outburst. Cyrus yawned and spoke up several minutes later, "You know, everything seems to be clear. Want to see if we can summon up some more pirates to vaporize? I'll just bend you over the console." She glared at him and then laughed, but made a serious face. "You know, Cyrus, the data I pulled from their ship is pretty interesting. Well, there's about a terabyte of holographic foot fetish porn that I'm not too keen on, but the manifest has a convenient inventory listing all of the cargo. Wanna know who's in the stasis crates?" She asked him, and then waited for an answer. He nodded and she continued, "Each one contains a pleasure slave from the Vixen Academy. You know, that school for hopeful concubines of the rich and powerful. They seem to be the priciest cargo that was on that blown-out tincan." At the news, Cyrus quirked his brow and grinned ear to ear, "Can we keep 'em?"