FSE

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formerly SoFurry search engine

"Son of a bitch!"

A slew of other expletives followed the slur as Vulpes gazed into her bathroom mirror, comb in paw. Before her, scattered on the counter, were a mix of different hair, fur and nail products, most old and well used. Her paws worried her blood-red hair, fighting to get a stubborn lick of hair to lay flat. But despite all of her efforts, it stood, resistant, and with a final curse, she threw her paws up and tossed the comb into the sink.

Gripping the edge of the sink, she gazed intently at herself, forcing herself to ignore that irritating lick. Cool greyish-blue eyes met her, and she looked herself over. Most people wouldn't wear a bright red Dexter shirt on a date, but Allan had requested she dress casually, and this was her favorite shirt. Plus, it contrast nicely with her clean, white as linen fur. For pants, she'd selected her best fitting black jeans. She'd been wearing these when they'd first run into each other.

A well of excitement bubbled up inside of her, and Vulpes found herself smirking. Usually she wasn't one to go for wolves, but Allan had been a special exception. The guy was an Adonis, muscular, fit, tall, covered in ash-like fur that was coarse to her touch. His eyes were a piercing blue, and everytime he'd looked at her, Vulpes felt as if he could see into her soul. They'd been out to eat a few times, and tonight should be nothing different.

Her phone started rattling, and groaning, Vulpes flicked it open. "Hello?" she asked, balancing the phone against her ear with her cheek and shoulder while to tended to some light grooming of her cheeks. "Yeah, it's tonight, why? No, I can't come over, I'm getting ready to leave now. I'm not talking about it!" Vulpes closed the phone shut, and after a moment's deliberation, tossed it into a basket holding her hygiene essentials. She took a deep breath, rapping her fingers on the sink's lip. The last thing she needed was to be pestered by a jealous boy on her date.

Sliding a small purse over her shoulder, she flicked off all the lights in her one-person apartment, pausing at the door. Maybe she should go back and get her phone. It was an old thing, and the silent setting didn't work. Even now, she could hear it vibrating incessantly. Her cheeks flushed. How embarrassing would it be for that to happen in the middle of dinner? She closed the door, leaving her phone behind.

A ground-level apartment with a parking spot just yards away was a gem, and a gem Vulpes owned. Her little bug was parked in a small carport beside a huge diesel pickup at least four times its size. She hated its owner, a short fat jackass with a superiority complex. Whenever he parked next to her, backing out was a bitch, and she was always afraid someone was going to rear-end her someday. She climbed into the beetle, lime green with cloth seats, setting her purse in the passenger seat. The engine purred to life, quiet and content, just like she liked it.

No one rear-ended her, and soon, Vulpes found herself rolling through the streets, one arm hanging out of her window. She may have been a girl, but she was an arctic fox, and for some reason, the feeling of the wind through her hair just felt wonderful. She came to halt at a stoplight and a motorcycle pulled up next to her, a kangaroo straddling it and an ocelot wrapping her arms around his waist. She grinned; it wasn't one of those crotchrockets but it wasn't those loud noisy ones, either. A perfect bike. Maybe one day, she'll be able to save up and get one.

Her drive was uneventful, but as Vulpes got closer to her destination, her heart beat faster and faster. Her stomach twisted into a knot, grumbling. "You're just hungry. Why would this be any different?" But it was different. Before, Allan had been the one to suggest places to eat. This time, she'd been the one to pick, and a hibachi steakhouse she'd chosen. What if he didn't like Asian food? The knot in her gut tightened. She wracked her brains. What had they eaten before? Barbeque, hamburgers, steak, nothing remotely like Asian food.

By the time Vulpes stepped out of her car, she was shivering. Her nails clicked against the cement, but she couldn't feel anything in her paws. She steadied herself and looked around. The parking lot was fairly clear; this place wasn't usually busy on a tuesday evening. But one vehicle stood out, a maroon Lexis, the downpayment of which was more than she made in a year.

Vulpes timidly stepped into the restaurant, a red panda as young as she was greeting her. "Party of two, yes?" she said, an ear-to-ear smile spread across her face.

"Uh, yeah... I was, uh, meeting someone. How'd you know?"

"A wolf is waiting on you. Very handsome. He's a keeper."

Her heart started to flutter. "Where... where is he?" she said, meekly, peeking around a corner to look around. The red panda gently took her paw and gestured, offering to lead. Vulpes accepted. But as she took her first steps, time seemed to stop, and everything in the world turned gray. Everything, that is, except Allan, sitting patiently in front of a grill, wearing form-fitting black pants and a leather jacket the shimmered and shone. It took all her willpower to take a seat next to him.

"Oh, there you are," he said, giving a grin, his many sharp teeth gleaming like knifes, a grin that spread only wider as he started to look her over. "Fan of Dexter, huh? Great show."

"Y-you watch Dexter?" Vulpes squeaked, her voice strained, her cheeks flushed. "You watch TV?"

Allan laughed and slung an arm around her neck, tugging her closer. "Of course! What did you think I did? Dexter's one of my favorite shows."

"It is? I mean... I would've thought... I dunno, you'd be off playing the stock market or drinking wine or something. Whatever you rich guys do."

The wolf grinned again. "Well, this will be our, what, fifth date? I think if you wanted, I could take you home and show you what we rich guys do in our free time."

Vulpes was done. She couldn't remember anything except a sudden rush of heat filling her face. She vaguely remembered the chef, a momonga with beady eyes, asking for her order. What did she get? Teriyaki steak with fried rice?

She remembered what Allan ordered. "Here, let me try this," he said, nodding towards the chef. "Let's see here... Watashi wa gy?niku no sot? yasai to tamago no r?ru de itametai to omoimasu?"

The chef laughed. "Close enough," he chuckled. "Beef stir fry with sautéed vegetables and an egg roll, yes?"

"You... you know Japanese?" Vulpes stammered, looking up at him with awe.

"Well, my clients come from all over the world. It's a sign of respect to at least learn a bit of their language, since they're speaking mine."

"How many clients do you have?"

"Well, let's see. Currently, I'm working with an Italian woman from Rome. She's pretty fun. Same with the guy from Greece. But don't ask me to speak Greek, that isn't happening. I know a bit of French, Italian, Spanish, Japanese, Cantonese Chinese, Vietnamese, and German."

"Damn..." Vulpes was so enraptured that she didn't even notice the chef's acrobatic displays, that is, until he brought out the knives. Their bright gleam caught her eye, and a shiver ran through her body, much the same as when she saw Allan's teeth. She watched each toss and catch with nervous anticipation, and she clapped as the momonga caught a knife behind his back. After a few moments, their food was set in front of them, and Vulpes eagerly tore into her meal.

She paused shortly after, flustered. "S-sorry," she said, meekly, having noticed that Allan was picking at his food with a pair of chopsticks.

"Oh, don't mind me, hon, enjoy! I like to savor my meals. We have all night."

"Sure." Switching from a fork to chopsticks, Vulpes resumed her meal, slower now. She wasn't clumsy, but a fork differently made for faster eating. They talked, and ate, and talked some more, about Allan's career as a broker, his travels, his adventures. Vulpes hung on to his every word, and the more she looked into his deep blue eyes, the deeper into them, she fell.

"Look at the time," Allan said, sliding up his jacket sleeve to look at his gold-plated watch. "Almost nine. We'd better get out of here."

"Oh, okay?" Vulpes said softly, reaching for her purse. She didn't find it. "Fuck!" She immediately reddened. "Oh, sorry! I left my purse in the car."

"Don't worry about it! I'll cover this one. You can pay me back later." Allan slipped a hundred down and handed another to the chef. "Keep the change," he said with a wink, and the chef's jaw dropped. The wolf grinned again. "Shall we go?"

Allan stood and held out his arm, offering it to Vulpes. She took it. The cool air hit her face, and suddenly she realized she was quite tired. The moon was just starting to peek over the horizon. "God, I have to drive all the way home..." she whined, leaning against him.

"You don't have to, you know?" Allan suggested, rubbing her head. "You could always come home with me for a little bit." His smile was intoxicating. Vulpes could only nod. He started over towards his Lexis, dragging her with him. She looked back towards her lonely beetle, then promptly ignored it. Allan opened her door and escorted her in, closing the door once her tail was safely inside. Her nose picked up that wonderful new car scent. The car's engine came to life, just as quiet as her beetle, but with an sense of power that she'd never felt before. "How's your night going?"

"Amazing..." Vulpes murmured, resting her arm on the rest. Allan laid his paw on top of it for just a moment, until he started shifting. The fox watched him as he pulled the car into reverse, and then first gear, second gear, working the clutch and gas until they were finally on a service road heading towards the highway. Vulpes' eyeslids grew heavy, and she found herself drifting off.

She awoke to the crackling of logs in a fireplace. Rubbing her eyes, she sat up, the smell of real leather reaching her nostrils. She was in a living room, laying on a sofa with a coffee table in front of her and a love seat opposite of her. Everything that wasn't made of leather was crafted of mahogany. "Allan?" she called out? Her voice echoed back to her. The floor's wooden panels were cold to her paws. She stood up, her ears preening for any sound. She could only hear the fireplace.

On the coffee table, she saw a pair of keys, a smart phone and a shiny new wallet. Her fingers tingled; she could see the green. "What the fuck, Vulpes?" she hissed at herself. The temptation wasn't enough. Why would she risk everything for a couple of hundred?

As cozy as the living room was, it felt lonely, and it took Vulpes only a moment to realize why. There were no pictures, either on the mantle or hanging on the walls. Everything else was fully furnished, but there wasn't a single sign of hominess. The arctic fox found herself wandering, from the living room to the den, from the den to the kitchen, from the kitchen to the hallway. Allan must've been meticulous; nothing was out of order, no plates in the sink, no spice left out of the spicerack. She was reminded of a model home she'd visited with her parents long ago.

The sound of rustling reached her ears, and Vulpes turned towards a closed door, pressing her ear against it. There was another noise as well... growling? She swallowed, her throat dry. Allan, she wanted to call, but her voice didn't come to her. Her heart beat quickly.

Steeling herself, she cracked open the door, peeking in. The room was some sort of study, with a heavy desk surrounded by many bookshelves, loaded with tons of heavy hard-cover books. The glow of the full moon illuminated Allan's form, who looked up at it, entranced. Except, it didn't look like Allan. Vulpes placed a paw over her muzzle, muffling her gasp. The wolf had grown larger, his groomed fur now shaggy and wild. His leather jacket had ripped at the stitches. In the moon's light, she could see his claws, silver daggers attached to ham-sized paws. What was Allan turned his head, and Vulpes could see his eyes glowing red.

"Shit, shit, shit..." she squeaked to herself, quickly backing away from the door. She scrambled back into the living room, snatched the keys and phone off the coffee table and bolted for the door. When the scent of pine trees filled her nostrils, she gasped in panic. She wasn't in a residential zone, she was in the middle of nowhere, in some sort of wood or forest. What direction had they come from? It didn't matter, she just had to get out of there.

The tall pines cast shadows everywhere, but even in the dark, she could still make out Allan's Lexis. She scampered towards it, her panicked attempted to unlock the car's door leaving scratch marks all across the door's handle. Finally, she flung the door open, slammed it shut after she jumped it, and promptly dropped the keys of the floor. "Shit, c'mon!" she whimpered as she felt around for the keys.

Finding them, she jammed them into the ignition and turned. The Lexis clicked. She turned again, before a sudden realization happened upon her. This was a stick-drive. She didn't know how to drive manual. She beat her paws helplessly on the steering wheel before looking at Allan's smart phone. There was a password. She flung it in disgust, tears welling up in her eyes. "Fuck, fuck, fuck..." she sobbed, when the door opened again, and a massive paw grabbed her arm. She hadn't yet locked the door.

Allan dragged her out of the car roughly, and try as she might, Vulpes could not even inhibit the wolf's stride. "What do you want?" she wanted to scream, but her voice came out tiny and weak.

"Mi devi per la cena," he said with a grin. "You owe me for dinner."

Vulpes kicked at his leg but only succeeded in hurting her own paw. "Just what the hell are you?"

"Lukos anthropos... I told you I didn't like greek. Scream all you want, though, no one will hear you. Not here, not at this time."

Vulpes obliged him, if out of spite. Werewolves had sensitive hearing, maybe she could scream loud enough to make him flinch. But as she did, Allan gripped her tighter, and their pace quickened. They didn't enter back into the house, but instead, went around, to where a shack stood, its doors wide open. Despite being a shack, like the house, it was meticulous, with a variety of tools hung in their proper places. Moonlight poured in from the three windows, illuminating everything. A large worktable had been installed in the middle of the room, low, about waist-high, with restraints on every side and at every corner.

It was on that, that Vulpes was forced, on her back, her wrists and legs bound, giving her not even enough slack to bend her joints. Allan prowled around her, licking at his chops. "Your screams excited me," he said, grinning with that muzzle full of brilliant teeth that shimmered in the moonlight. "I almost had to have you out in the open. That... would have been messy."

He brought one of his claws to bare at the base of her neck and began to trail it down, past her solarplexis, past her navel, all the way to the button of her pants. Vulpes squeezed her eyes shut, the sound of tearing frabic only partially distracting from the wetness she felt. When her shirt fell away, her chest was still red.

"I know you're enjoying this," Allan said, gripping Vulpes' hips and raking down, stredding her pants. She clenched her teeth, tears dripping from the corners of her eyes. She couldn't feel anything except an incessant burning, a burning that only got worse as a breeze rolled through the open door. Her pants in tatters, it was easy enough for Allan to pull, ripping her protection away from her, leaving her exposed, her pristine white fur now matted and red. "I've seen how you looked at those knives. It makes you wet just to think about it."

"Pl-please..." Vulpes sobbed, but her cry was caught in her throat when Allan suddenly leapt atop her, his maw of razor sharp teeth around her neck. He bit down, slowly, and Vulpes closed her eyes. But the snap never came, and after a moment, the pressure released. She felt something probing around her groin, two fingers, searching, exploring her lips.

"Excellente, you're already wet." The two daggers pried her open, and Vulpes looked down to see the monstrous beast that awaited her. She tugged at her restraints in vain as Allan positioned his girth, a huge rod almost as long as her forearm. "I see you're not a virgin. Looks like I found myself a dirty little whore."

"F-fuck you!" Vulpes hissed. She was no whore, but apparently, she was stupid when it came to judging men.

"Oh, I think you got that backwards," Allan said with a smirk before he pushed in, and Vulpes cried as his length split her apart. The werewolf was not gentle, not at all, and he slid as much as he could in one go. Allan's claws gripped her hips and dug in as he started to work himself into a rhymth. "Oh, oui, ça y est..." he murred, rocking in to her. She screamed and strained, but the only thing she could do was lay there and take it.

With a swipe of his claw, he freed her legs, only to take them and force them up and over, thrusting faster and faster now. Vulpes was sobbing freely now. What pain did she feel? She couldn't even tell anymore. Sharp, stabbing, throbbing, burning, everything and anything, she felt it all. Allan seized her neck, forcing her back to arch. She could barely breathe, made all the worse by the claw choking her. Her eyes rolled into the back of her head, and she blacked out.

---

"What's your name?"

"I... I don't know...."

"Do you know what year is it?"

"Two... two thousand... twelve?"

"Do you remember what happened to you?"

"I... don't.... my arms hurt.... why can't I move them?"

The lion in the white smock looked down at her with pity. "You're still in shock. This isn't going to be easy for you. Do you want me to tell you?"

Vulpes blinked vaguely at him. "What... happened?"

"Bare with me. It's... difficult to recap this. You were found on the side of a road by a passerby. It was... brutal, to say the least. Your arms, legs and tail had all been amputated, and you had been stitched up to conserve what little blood you had remaining. Whatever sicko did this to you left your arms and legs... your tail was missing."

"But... I feel my arms..." she protested.

"I'm truly sorry." The lion stood up. "You need your sleep. I'll have a nurse care for you."

"But I still have my arms, fucker! I still have them!

---

The days past tortureously. Try as she might, Vulpes couldn't recall anything. The police came to interview her, but she couldn't give them anything. Tears rolled down her muzzle. She had requested the pictures that they took when they found her. Her stomach wretched. There she had been, wrapped up like a present, her arms and legs placed meticulously beside her, in perfect symetry. She wanted to toss them away, but she couldn't. She'd never be able to.

On her fifth day, the doctor lion came back, a hopeful look on his face. "We have an ID for you," he said, and Vulpes looked up at him. "Do you know an Allan? He's here to see you."

The name was familiar. "Allan... I know... Allan." The words came slowly, and she could feel a memory drifting through her mind. They were eating, a steakhouse, Japanese. She was nervous, happy, excited. Vulpes smiled.

"Yeah, fuck... Allan. He's my boyfriend."