FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

DISCLAIMER: This story is fictional and contains nonconsensual sex, bondage, torture, and/or small amounts of blood, as well as a handful of other less-extreme kinks all appropriately tagged. Sex in real life should be safe, sane, and consensual; this is purely a work of erotic fiction, and those uninterested or underage should proceed no further.

So.... Hey! Here comes the next story. As mentioned above, this first chapter gets a little more extreme than I usually write... Certainly not the worst thing on the website, but if you're not sure, better to not read it. ^^ For everyone else, I hope you enjoy! Next chapter will be up tomorrow.

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Another day. Started just like every other day. Bed, shower, food, laundry, clothes, door, work. Always the same. Bed, shower, food, laundry, clothes, door, work. I loved my job, but the humdrum of life's routine could be trying for me at times. My job seemed to be the only thing I could do right, but I was shunned by those who knew my profession. A slave-breaker. I had taken the job after my older brother Okunote was taken to prison for snapping on one of the other employees.

Now I suppose I should break off for a second and elaborate on exactly what the job of 'slave-breaker' was. I'm not a trainer, I'm not a slaver, I'm specifically a breaker. My job is not to show them how they're expected to act, teach them their specific craft, get them into shape--no, that's what trainers are for. My job is not to work with governments or loan agencies to 'acquire' slaves; that's what slavers are for. My job is just to break the new slaves--to show them their place, eliminate any hope of escape for the less-willing participants (those forced into the program in leiu of serving jail time for certain nonviolent crimes), and prepare them for the harsh reality of enforced slavehood.

Many people think it's rough, or unecessary, or inhumane, but when it comes down to it, this is a business. We're not some evil roaving caravan in a third-world country; all our slaves are either willing participants over 16 selling themselves to the indentured program or white-collar criminals serving for whitecollar crimes. The faster they accept their position, the easier it is for the trainer's to prepare them, the faster they get sold, the more slaves we can process, and, of course, the more money we can make.

And entertainingly enough, it turned out my brother's particular branch of the company handled pleasure slaves; which required a special approach to breaking, especially as they were mainly the "willing" participants selling themselves into the program to make money. Despite a very, very in-depth contract and a veritable butt-load of federal warnings, they seem to get this idea in their head that they're hot stuff and they'll just bend over for some lonely old man or bang some lonely old woman for a few years and then move on. It's actually quite hard to qualify for the pleasure slave program, and it pays quite a bit better, but there's a damn good reason for it.

With the job description out of my way, we can get back to my brother. No one could explain why he had snapped like that. And for the longest time, I didn't understand why he had taken the job in the first place. He had always been so kind and sweet to me; a little rough at times, but he just didn't seem capable of such a crude, violent, infamous job. When he left, I was offered his job to support myself, and I finally understood.

There was something terrifyingly arousing about having a slave shivering in terror underneath me, tears dripping down their face, refusing to break--refusing to accept defeat. Something awe-inspiring and extacy-inducing to me about the look on their face when it finally dawns on them that there's nothing they can do about what's happening to them. Raking my claws down their back and laughing as they screamed, watching fresh welts form on their backs as their bodies quivered, seeing them fight off the unwanted sensations of arousal as I showed them what their job was going to be about... I loved every second of it.

My life before this job was nothing short of average. I'm attractive enough, I suppose--a 5'8'', reasonably toned cat morph with short tortoiseshell-pattern fur. But still, day-to-day activities were just so dull and boring. This job, on the other hand... It stimulated darker parts of me I never knew were in there; the more slaves I broke, the better I felt. But it was just like a drug: it only worked for so long before I crashed. And then the only thing that could help me was an even larger dose.

And that's how I found myself here. With this poor little fox squirming underneath me, chained spread eagle to the bed, blindfolded, panting and whimpering in fear.

"Please... No, I... I--AAAAAAAAH!"

"Awwwwwwwwww... You thought it would be easy didn't you? I've had your type before." Each of my sentences was punctuated with another scream as I drew another line of red into his skin. "You're a coward... and you thought that if you just laid back like a good boy, you'd get through this. But see, my job is not to train you. My job is not to own you. My job is not to take care of you. My job is to break you. To show you that escape is hopeless, and to promise you one thing... If you disobey your trainers for even a moment... you'll be RIGHT." I clawed his back. "BACK." I sank my teeth into his collarbone. "HERE." And to punctuate my last sentence, a swift knee right where it hurts, drawing a breathless, silent scream from his muzzle.

If only he knew just what he was doing to me: the way he quivered, the breathless little whines, the tears rolling down his face... And he was a little fox, too--Oh, how I love breaking foxes. Granted, he was probably 17 or so, but foxes just drip childish cuteness until they're well into their adulthood. Oh, and the noises that they make... I couldn't stop myself from dipping a finger down my panties and running it down his chest, watching his fur glimmer with my juices. I was soaked already, and the fun hadn't even started.

"Now let's get one thing straight: You're going to lay back like a good boy and let me have my way with you. And if you so much as move an INCH..." I positioned my claw right at the base of his length, and he let lose the cutest little whimper I've ever heard. "If you so much as move an inch, we're going to have to change your gender on your papers, ooookaaaay?" I wrapped my hand around his entire package and squeezed for emphasis.

It's important to stop to explain one thing. Sexual torture was not exactly uncommon. It's the entire idea. In fact, we give them two drugs before each session. One simple dose of caffeine to keep them alert. And one aphrodisiac, to make them more... receptive. It's a simple gel rub that makes them more receptive, as well as a pill for the males to keep them erect. After all, being a male slave, their size was a major selling point in this field (for obvious reasons.) So even with my rough manhandling of his groin, he couldn't stop himself from hardening once I started stroking his little length... which ended up being right at my favorite size, just a bit above average. I may be a sadist; but I'm not a size queen.

"Aww, we've got good one here today... This is going to be fun." I climbed on top and pulled my panties aside, watching his eyes widen. This is always my favorite part... The look on their face when they realize that the crazy, sadistic bitch whose breaking them intends to fuck them too. But I'm a patient girl... So I slid just the very tip of his length in and began to ride, up, then down, up, then down, at a nice slow pace. It's always hard to decide whether to order them to be still or watch them squirm. They're so beautiful when they're writhing around, trying to resist the pleasure. Today, though, I wanted to hear those moans and whimpers as the struggled to stay still, struggled to tell themselves that they weren't enjoying it even as they're suppressing their body's primal urge to thrust into me and rut me until they fill me with their seed.

Of course, that's just for the male slaves. The females... Well, that's another story for another time.

I leaned down to his ear, still teasing just his tip, letting my juices drip down his shaft and tickle the fur of his sheath. "Aww, does it feel good? I bet you wish you could turn the tables. I bet you wish you could push me down onto this bed and slam that big hard cock into me... Teach me a lesson... Slam into my pussy, slam into my ass, make me scream for you." I took a grip on his shoulders, dug my claws in, and slammed myself down on his length, right to the base. He couldn't resist letting out a gasp and arching his back as I engulfed his length, squeezing and milking him as my pussy twitched.

"WHAT DID I SAY ABOUT MOVING?" I brought a claw back threateningly to the base of his length, still buried in me.

"PLEASE! MA'AM! NO! I'M SORRY!"

"Aww... What nice manners. I'll tell you what... Start thrusting. As FAST as you can. And if you slow or stop before I cum, you can say goodbye to HIM." I squeezed his shaft again. "And if you cum before I do, you can say goodbye to THEM." I squeezed his balls until he screamed again, then let out a girlish giggle.

"NOW!"

Ahh-I take that back. This is the best part. They may lose a little of their finesse, but no one will ever work as hard to please you as someone who fears for their life. He was slamming into me deeply, pressing right into my g-spot with every thrust. I hate to admit it, but this is the hardest part for me-keeping my composure while I've got more than half a foot of cock pistoning in and out of me. My pussy was clenching down on him with every thrust, and he was giving me all he had, my breasts bouncing with every thrust in time to his strained moans of pleasure.

"Come on, FASTER!" I spoke into his ear in a whispered scream, grabbing him by the throat with my hand and claws, giving him just enough room to stay conscious. And boy, did he go faster--my pussy couldn't even keep up with him anymore, and just took to clenching down on him, milking his cock for all it was worth, squirting a little with every thrust. But I hadn't cum yet-and I wasn't sure I wanted to. With how horny I was, all I would have to do is shift my leg up a little, and he could probably slide his cock straight into the deepest parts of me and fuck me to a screaming, moaning, squirting orgasm that most girls only dream of, but that would make things too easy on him. No, I've let enough slaves get me off the easy way in my little game, let's give this one a challenge. After all, it's almost as fun to have them fail as it is to have them succeed.

So I let him keep going-it was hard enough already. Every thrust was hammering my g-spot deliciously, drawing forth more liquids from us both, his pre-cum mixing with my juices until his dick was gliding in and out flawlessly, shimmering with our combined fluids. I leaned forward and held my breast up to him, and uttered simply, "Suck." He certainly wasn't going to pass up an opportunity to turn me on more with his manhood at stake in more ways than one. He licked them, he kissed them, he sucked the nipples into his mouth and nibbled on them, switching back and forth, groaning and sweating with exertion.

Of course, all too soon, I could see the tell-tale signs of an impending orgasm: ragged breathing, jagged thrusting, tightening balls... Aw, the poor guy wasn't going to make it. Let's see which one he wants to lose. Of course, I can't ACTUALLY mutilate the slaves--especially one with such a nice, delicious package like this. But the fear is what I wanted; and with that blindfold on, the pain will be bad enough for him to at least believe it for a little while.

"Aww, you're not going to make it? Come on, all you have to do is stop thrusting... he won't hurt nearly as much as they will, and you won't be getting to use him much anyway. Of course, maybe I'm on the edge... Maybe a few more thrusts will get me over. And maybe you should go out with one last bang and fill my pussy with that hot, creamy load of cum I know you've got churning in there." I emphasized with another squeeze to his balls.

"PLEASE, NO! I'LL DO ANYTHING! PLEASE!"

"Aww, are you going to cum slave? Do I get a couple more for my collection?" I started giggling maniacally.

"PLEASE, STOP! I'M GOING TO CU-I'M GOING TO-AAAAAAAAAUGH!" I almost lost it for a second when he slammed his knot into me and started spilling his seed. That delicious warmth and wetness spilling into the deepest regions of my pussy as I spasmed all over that big, beautiful knot that was splitting me open was almost too much to take-a couple more thrusts and I would have been a screaming, mewling mess for him.

He looked relieved for a split second when my claws didn't slice into him. And then I giggled. I giggled like a little schoolgirl talking about her biggest crush, or a wife being picked up by her husband and carried to the limo for their honeymoon. And I raised my paw up. And extended my claws. And just as the look of terror dawned on his face...

And I brought my claws down, finally tipping over the edge into orgasm. I clenched down almost painfully tight on his shaft, my long, gluttenous moan of gratification nearly drowing out his screams.

It wasn't so bad, really. I actually only clawed below his sack, onto his taint, and really didn't pierce that deep. I doubt it hurt half as bad as he made it sound. But between the fear, the gel, the blindfold, and the caffeine, I'm sure he really believed that I made good on my threat; at least for a little while.

Afterward, I just got up and left. Sure, there were towels to wash off and wrap up with, but I never used them much. I was happy to walk straight out, dripping blood from my claws and cum from my pussy, and show everyone what I had done.

As I left my room, I knew the guards were staring at me. Even the most seasoned of them always did. I didn't make too much eye contact as I strolled down the hall, but they were easy to catch out of the corners of my eyes.

One in particular though, was staring in a wonderful mixture of terror and arousal. He must have been new-the new guys are always so fun. So I sauntered right up to him, shaking my hips and making sure he had a nice clear view of my breasts and the matted cum shimmering between my legs, and started running a claw gently down his chest, seductively. I leaned in close, purring and rubbing my muzzle against his neck, before whispering into his ear, "New here? Don't worry, there's nothing to be afraid of." I licked my lips. "Here, how about I give you a... proper welcome." And without another word, I trailed that finger down to his pants, undoing them as I slowly ground my breasts down his body until I was on my knees. He was already rock hard before I could even finish getting him out.

"Wait-right... right here infront of everyone? B-b-but I could get... in..." I shut up his stammering protests by running my tongue gently up the underside of his cock, fondling his balls one hand while stroking the base with the other. I probably would have cared under normal circumstances too, but I was still riding the high from the breaking session, and damned if I was going to give up a delicious cock just because the new guy had cold feet. I lapped gently at the tip until it was nice and shiny with saliva, and then slowly moved my hand back as I engulfed the entire shaft into my mouth.

I suckled gently, holding his entire length in my throat and playing with his balls, running my tongue along the underside as my head slowly began bobbing up and down on his length. It twitched in my mouth, rewarding me with a little shot of pre that only made me hungry for more. In the meantime, I trailed one of my fingers around his cock, getting it nice and wet with the pre that my lips were spreading over it. I pushed his legs a little wider apart, and began teasing his little hidden pucker. The poor guy couldn't even stammer out a protest-and hey, silence means yes, right? I slowly pushed my middle finger into his ass, twisting and wiggling into until I found his prostate, and then rubbing my finger against it, garnering a loud moan out of his mouth.

He certainly wasn't complaining--not that I would have stopped anyway. So I took it up a notch, thrusting my finger in and out and bobbing my head as fast as I could, relishing his squirms and moans as he looked around, paranoid about getting in trouble and embarrassed at all of his peers staring at him as the crazy bitch with blood on her claws and cum dripping from her pussy blew him and fingered him like her life depends on it. Still, none of the complaints he was trying to stutter out managed to form anything coherent, and the way his cock was twitching in my throat told me all I needed to know.

He certainly had some endurance-he might just be worth a second visit sometime. Maybe I'll invite him in to play with me in the one of the vacant rooms later. For now, though, I wanted that load shooting into my mouth, and I wanted it now. I redoubled my efforts, pounding into his prostate and sucking him as hard as I could. His legs nearly buckled, and despite his stuttering, I knew exactly what was coming. I let another finger join the first, slamming both into his prostate as hard as I could as I stroked his length, looking up at him with his cock-tip pressed to my tongue as he painted my mouth white, groaning and squirting shot after shot until it was coated my mouth and dripped from my tongue.

"Mmm... Delicious." I said as I slid back up his body, making a show of swallowing his cum and gently nibbling from his stomach up to his neck, before whispering into his ear, "I'm working room twelve tomorrow... meet me there at the end of the day, and maybe we can both get a little release this time." And with a giggle, I was off, the guard left standing there dumbfounded with his twitching hard-on dribbling the last few drops of cum onto the fabric of his pants, still bunched around his ankles.