FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

(Author's note: Yeah, trying something a bit different with this story. First things first, it takes place in the Harry Potter universe, but with original characters. If you're able to tell me what each of these three stories have in common (besides all involving rabbits), I can put your character in the story after the next one. (Since I already know what I'm going to do with the next installment) Enjoy! Harry Potter universe belongs to JK Rowling)

Three knocks on the front door of a large mansion. With a crack like a whip, a tall badger in black robes appeared out of thin air. After adjusting his robes, he reached out and pulled the door open. "Yes?" he asked softly, looking down at the guest.

"Hello!" said a smaller figure with a long brown traveling cloak, his hood shadowing his face. What little could be seen was a twitching nose and black fur. "I'm Wendell Honeydew. I'm here for a job interview as personal assistant for Mr. Darren Shortwood."

The badger, whom was apparently the butler, nodded and stepped aside, extending an arm into the foyer. "Please come in. I'll inform the master you have arrived. Once the door had closed behind him, Wendell pulled his hood down.

"Freezing out there," he shuddered, rubbing his long ears to get them warm again. Wendell was a rabbit, mostly a deep black with several splotches of white around his face and neck.

"It is," agreed the badger, locking the door. "Probably the reason Master Shortwood's illness has worsened these last few days." The butler drew a wand and waved it, Wendell's cloak pulling itself off of his back and floating over to a coat rack to the left of the door. "Please follow me," said the badger, putting his wand away again and turning to the stairs. "I should take you straight to the master and introduce you. Place your bags by the coat rack for now."

Wendell obeyed, then began to follow behind the butler. "Are there any ground rules I should follow when I speak to Mr. Shortwood?" he asked.

"Well, obviously, you should be polite. Call him 'sir', and such. But most of all, simply be yourself." They reached the east wing of the manor, stopping in front of a tall door. For the first time, the badger smiled. "I wish you luck," he said, and knocked on the door.

"Enter," called a hoarse voice. The badger opened the door, and Wendell stepped in, the butler following him. "Ah, is this the one who is answering the ad in the Prophet?" asked an aged tabby cat, his likely once-ginger fur now grey in places. He coughed violently into a handkerchief. "My apologies. This old cat's immune system has started to fade. Please, please come in."

Wendell stepped forward, bowing to Mr. Shortwood. "Good day, sir," he said. He straightened up again, smiling kindly. "My name is Wendell Honeydew."

"Honeydew!" exclaimed the older male, smiling. "That's a name I recognize. You wouldn't happen to be related to Deacon Honeydew, would you? He was an old friend of mine. Used to be in Magical Law Enforcement."

"Yes," said Wendell, surprised. "He was my great-uncle on my mother's side."

"Ha!" laughed Shortwood, slapping his knee. "He was a great man and wizard. I don't imagine he told you much about me?"

"Well, no. He died when I was three, and Mum only told me a little bit about him." Wendell's ears drooped slightly.

"Well, that's quite alright," said Mr. Shortwood, coughing into his handkerchief. "Ahem. Pardon me. I'd offer a comforting hand, if I weren't afraid of passing on my cold. Anyway, you came about a job, not to hear an old man rattle on about his past."

"I don't mind, sir," said Wendell quickly, smiling.

"Heh, I didn't imagine you would," replied the tabby cat, grinning. "Now, may I see references and background?"

An hour later, Wendell left the room. "Well, I think that went rather well," said the butler, who had been introduced as Mavis by Master Shortwood. He was smiling kindly, Wendell nodding. "The Master does seem to like you."

"He was much kinder than I had first expected," admitted Wendell, looking sheepish as they walked towards the other hallway. "My experiences with old men tend to be Well."

"I understand, Honeydew," said Mavis, reaching another door. "Here is your room." Mavis drew his wand again. "Accio Cloak and Bags." With a whoosh, Wendell's effects flew up the stairs and into his arms.

"Thank you, Mavis," he said, and opened his door. It was a rather small room, with a twin-sized bed, wardrobe, dresser, bedside tables, and tall mirror. Wendell hung his cloak on a hook beside the door.

"Now, once you are unpacked, you're free for the rest of the day. Tomorrow your work with us will officially start." Mavis smiled. "I suggest you spend the time exploring and getting a feel for the place. It's a bit large, yes, but easy enough to traverse."

"Compared to Hogwarts, I daresay anything is easy to traverse." Mavis and Wendell shared a chuckle.

"Ah, yes," said Mavis. "I do miss Hogwarts, though," he added wistfully, and for a moment he went quiet, letting out a soft sigh, though coughed and shook himself. "Ah, anyway. Please enjoy your first night." But before Wendell closed his door, Mavis put a hand on it. "Oh, before I forget. Don't go into the basement."

"Why?" asked Wendell curiously, but Mavis had already turned on his heel, Disapparating. "Huh." Wendell's door closed and the rabbit turned away, walking to his bag and opening it. Well, better get started.

About ten minutes later, Wendell had left his room again and began exploring, occasionally passing by Mavis, who was dusting and sweeping. He'd changed into casual Muggle clothing now, though still wore a deep blue cloak, since it was a little chilly in the manor. The black and white rabbit was a naturally curious creature, poking his head into any doors that were unlocked. He also poked his head into the doors that were locked, though he locked them again once he either found nothing of interest or simply didn't feel like he should be there.

Speaking of places he shouldn't be, Wendell soon found himself at a door to the left of the stairs progressing to the second floor. Wendell drew his wand, tapping the lock. "Alohamora," he murmured. There wasn't a sound. No click of an opened lock, and the door wouldn't open. "Strange." The rabbit glanced over his shoulder, then reached into his pocket, pulling out a hairpin and piano wire. His curiosity was going to get the better of him eventually anyway. He might as well get it over with sooner rather than later.

With a soft click, the lock opened, and Wendell smirked, putting away the hairpin and stepping into the door, closing it behind him. Right, then. Let's see what Master Shortwood has downstairs. "Lumos." The end of Wendell's wand illuminated, and the rabbit walked slowly downstairs, his ears perked high to listen for footsteps. While he couldn't hear much, there was a very sweet, quite enticing, scent emanating from below him. He hadn't caught the scent when he'd first come into the manor.

Once his feet touched the rather dusty floor, he lifted his wand high, expanding the light so he could see a bit further. It was a fairly large basement, but oddly empty. In the shadows beyond the light of his wand, Wendell thought he could see movements, only to disappear once the wandlight touched them. Were his eyes merely playing tricks on him? Wendell couldn't see any lamps right away. He had to walk a bit deeply into the room before he found one. Once he lit it with his wand, giving off a larger area of light, he looked around. There was just so much emptiness that Wendell hadn't expected. There were still many shadows around him, though this time he could justify the movements around him as the flickering fire in the lantern.

Moving toward the furthest end of the room, away from the stairs, he lifted his wand, lighting it once more. In the areas the light of the fire couldn't reach, he swept the light of his wand from one corner to the other. He was just thinking this was a complete waste of time when, suddenly, the wandlight slid over something large, something moving. Wendell gasped, his wand clattering to the floor and going out. His breathing quickened, his heart pounding hard against its prison of a ribcage. After a few moments of standing like a statue, hands shaking, he reached down, picking up his wand. Gulping, he pointed in the direction of the thing he saw. "L-Lumos."

The moment the light touched it, Wendell gasped again. It was a dull brown and green plant bulb, about five foot tall, six foot around, with tendrils emerging from within, as if it were about to bloom. "Venomous Tentacula," he whispered, and turned to run. "Mr. Shor--" Something caught him around his foot, sending him facedown into the floor. Wendell groaned, seeing spots pop up in his vision. He was still in the light of the lantern, and he could feel rather than hear movements around him in the shadows beyond the flickering light. Slowly, he climbed shakily to his feet. Something shot out from the darkness, wrapping tightly around his wand hand. Sparks shot out from the end of his wand, raining down around him and bouncing off the strong, thick tendril gripping his wrist.

Wendell reached up to grab his wand out of his hand, but another tendril was too fast, pulling his arms slowly apart with him fighting to regain control. "I-incendio!" cried the rabbit, and a small ball of fire shot out from his wand, which was pointing at the ceiling above, then fell back down, bouncing off of the slimy tendril and disappearing. A third tentacle wrapped around his head, gagging his mouth. "Nnrrph!"

He fought, sparks shooting out of his wand even more, writhing in the grip of the thick tentacles. Wendell could no longer call for help. Something wrapped around his ankles and tugged, making him fall once again onto his face. His wand flew out of his grip, bouncing off the hook that held the lantern and making it fall, breaking the glass and putting out the fire he'd made within it. He felt his body getting pulled across the floor, likely dirtying his clothes and robe. Wendell gripped the floor with his nails, leaving lines in the dusty floor and into the darkness.

Yet another tendril, this one a fair bit thicker than the others, wrapped around his abdomen and lifted him into the air, pulling him toward the bulb in the corner. Not even his first day, and he was going to be digested by a glorified Venus Flytrap! Tears started forming in his eyes. Why did he come down here?

A sharp pain made him wince. A tiny tendril, slightly bigger than a needle, stuck into the side of his neck. There was a tingling sensation, emanating from the point where the tendril had seemed to inject something inside him. Oh, great, he was going to be made weak and helpless, possibly even knocked out, before eaten. It was a small comfort that he wouldn't be aware when he was finally digested

But something was happening, and he wasn't getting numb, or even tired. The tingling within his body was getting warmer, and his toes curled within his shoes. Wendell let out a muffled groan, feeling his jeans tightening. "Mmmph" His eyes, still tearing up a bit, rolled upwards. What was this? He was feeling slightly weaker, but that was mainly in his legs, and that was only because there was a wave of pleasure making the muscles along them tense and relax over and over again. Soon, he was laid back down on his chest, tendrils getting to work in pulling his robes off of his body abdomen, along with his shoes and jeans.

Only now did Wendell notice that the tendrils of the Tentacula didn't have sharp spines. They were instead quite smooth, and slimy, at that. The tendril gagging him loosened, and replaced the two holding his wrists, lashing them together and pulling him up onto his knees. He found that he couldn't yell, only let out shallow pants and a groan. He was hard, a hot pink tower of flesh twitching slightly in between his legs. What did the thing do to him? His arms lifted over his head, he looked over his shoulder at the feeling of something prodding along his inner thighs.

This tendril, unlike the others, which were pointed, had a blunt tip. While Wendell's eyes were adjusting to the darkness, he could still barely make out what was happening. The blunt-tipped tendril pressed up against his tailhole, and he let out a gasp as something warm was smeared against it. Another tingling sensation, this time making his back arch and his head throw itself back. He could feel the thick appendage pressing steadily harder against his pucker, which was relaxing more and more by the moment. He felt the penetration, and, with a tug, it popped out again, making him whine softly.

Wendell's mind was foggy, his body quivered. He found himself wanting that tendril inside of him, pushing his plump rear into the blunt tip. It was as if that was exactly what the Tentacula wanted, pushing the thick tendril back into the rabbit with little resistance, the slime covering it acting as a tingling lubricant as it pushed deeply into the small, petite creature, running right up against Wendell's prostate. The rabbit let out a small squeak, a bead of pre dripping down from the tip of the pink flesh sticking straight out from his crotch. "Hnn"

The two tendrils that had first grabbed his arms now wrapped around his thighs, spreading his legs and lifting him slowly into the air. He whimpered softly, toes curling. It was natural for rabbits to prefer solid ground, though as the tendril inside him started to move, sliding slowly in and out, Wendell quickly relaxed again. Still another tendril, this one strangely hollow for the first seven or eight inches, poked around his thighs as well. Curious in spite of himself, Wendell watched the oddly-shaped appendage as it nudged against his sac, closing gently over one of his testicles. It was a strange feeling, but not unpleasant.

Once it was released, the tendril slid upwards, poking at the underside of Wendell's length until it reached his tip, where it slid down over it like a sock. Wendell let out another squeal of pleasure as the hollow tendril closed tightly around the hard shaft. The rabbit felt that the inside of the hollow tendril was ridged on the inside, rippling over the firm flesh within it and milking out a small stream of pre. Curiously, Wendell had the odd feeling that it was sucking gently on him, absorbing the pre.

Since it had seemed to pause during this little moment, Wendell let out a squeal again as he was turned over, upside-down, the tentacles wrapped around his thighs holding him firmly. For some reason, he felt even safer this way, relaxed. The tendril within him started to thrust downwards into him at a good speed, bouncing his body and making his back arch. "Haaahhh" The tendril around his relatively thick member was moving at about the same speed, making his hips buck and his toes curl tightly.

"Nnahh!" he cried out, his cotton tail wiggling madly. It seemed to be almost teasing him, building him up to a big climax that was soon to come. Not soon enough in his opinion, as evidenced by his constantly bucking hips, trying to make the tendrils go faster. They kept their steady speed, and he let out a frustrated, begging moan.

After a minute of near unbearable teasing, the tendrils finally sped up, making Wendell squeal once again, his tongue hanging out and his body rocking in midair, though now the tendril spreading his tight hole was going so fast, it was a wonder Wendell could still have a coherent thought. His legs tensing, his toes curled, his body quivering madly, the rabbit let out a groan, his shaft pulsing heavily as thick, warm seed filled the hollow tendril. It expanded like a balloon for a good thirty seconds, and once Wendell was done, the balloon deflated, sucking the protein it so needed through the long tendril and into the main body.

Wendell panted heavily, the tendril giving a few final squeezes to make sure the rabbit was done before gently setting him down on the dusty floor, where he lay exhausted, unable to move his legs. The tentacles unbound themselves from Wendell's arms and legs, and retracted back into the Tentacula's bulb.

Embedded in a wall nearby was a small, purple crystal. Upstairs on the second floor, Mavis and Mr. Shortwood stood in front of a mirror, where, instead of their reflections, they could see Wendell lying motionless on the floor of the basement. "Well," said Mavis, adjusting his belt, "I didn't expect him to go down there on the first night. I figured it would stew for a few days in his mind until he couldn't take it anymore."

"It's a good thing rabbits are so resilient," rasped Mr. Shortwood, looking to his servant with a smile. "You'd better go down and get Mr. Honeydew before the Tentacula decides to have second helpings. We'll have to let Wendell sleep off the Tentacula's injection, however, before we try to explain to him what he's really here for, or else he may just ignore us and try to rip your pants off."