FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

The knight was golden from head to toe, skin tan and hair blond, with a crop of it on his head and a dusting of it covering pouches of muscle; he stood firm, arms and legs spread wide. His feet, wrapped in cloth, were placed into steel shoes, pinned to greaves strapped to his calves. Gloves, slid over his hands, reached past his elbows. A chainmail half-shirt was draped over his shoulders.

He moved about, testing the fit. "Are not we forgetting something," he asked, "I feel a breeze." A chainmail short-skirt was wrapped about his naked waist; he nodded his approval.

The page stepped back, head lowered, worrying the hem of his tunic skirt, whimpering.

"Come now Randy," the knight said, "this is not a time for sadness, but for great courage."

"But Sir Auric, when you come back, you are to be married." The young man looked up, tears welling in his big, brown eyes. "Will we . . . still be together?"

"You will always be mine, in service as my page," he said, chuckling, "who else would undress me and polish my sword?" Randy sighed and quivered, a dollop of man mess splattering his feet. Virgins, Sir Auric thought. "That reminds me," he said, shaking his finger, "stay away from the sheep while I am gone, especially the males; Master Shepherd said you were almost rutted upon."

"Um . . . yes Sir Auric." Randy quivered again.

"Now, let us get me mounted."

Randy held the steps. Sir Auric climbed up, kicking a leg over the horse, and as he did so, a familiar face peered up his skirt.

"I see that you are excited to be off." Where Sir Auric was golden, Sir Rufus was ruddy, fair with freckles and flaming red hair.

"Nothing like donning cold steel to get the blood burning," Sir Auric joked, accepting his helmet from Randy. "I see that you too are excited." Sir Rufus wore snug tights.

"If only I could accompany you, what a gay quest that would be."

"You are needed to hold down the fort while I am gone," Sir Auric said, motioning him closer, "and promise me that if I do not return, you will see after my estate, and, of course -" he paused, sighing "-mother."

Sir Rufus placed his hand in that most sacred place between men, high on the thigh of Sir Auric. "I make this oath." He gave a light squeeze.

With a gasp, "you are too kind," Sir Auric said. "And would you also see to my page?" Sir Rufus smiled as he sauntered over and took the young man in hand. "Randy, until I return, you are to service Sir Rufus."

"Um . . . yes Sir Auric." Randy quivered again.

"I will arrange a fete for your return," Sir Rufus exclaimed, "nothing but athletics, cavorting, and the baths for a week!"

Sir Auric raised his hand. "I do appreciate the offer, but when I return I am to be married."

"Until that day, you are mine," Sir Rufus said, with a wicked grin.

Sir Auric chuckled, knowingly. "Now, let us get off!"

Kicking the horse with his heels, he proceeded off at a slow trot, quiet enough to hear Sir Rufus comment to Randy that he preferred his household staff nude. Sir Auric glanced back as another dollop of man mess splattered his feet. He smiled, knowing his estate, sigh, mother, and even Randy, were in good hands.

*****

He made a circuit through town, from the high roads of the wealthy with shops and villas to the low roads of the working class with taverns and docks. People lined the street, first, lords and ladies in their finest, then workers, half-naked and dirty. Quite a few of the ladies, some lords, and even a few of the workers swooned.

Trumpets bleated. He stiffened, at attention, a friendly face replaced by one courageous. As he passed festooned bleachers, the court did not cheer or applaud, merely nodded and tittered as he came to a stop at the steps of the castle.

"Sir Auric," the gaily-dressed herald announced.

He was followed by the hulking Constable. "You have been invested in the slaying of one dragon in North Mountains. The pride of the Royal Army, your success is expected forthwith."

The officious Chamberlain strode forward. "Upon your success, you will be given the hand of Princess Luella in marriage."

The dour queen looked about for the princess. She found her hiding in her voluminous skirts and shoved the child forward. The chubby little girl reached up, handing Sir Auric . . . a porcelain doll.

"This is Mawgawet," the princess whispered, "she will be youw fwiend on youw quest."

"Why, thank you," he said, not quite sure what to do with the thing.

"I did not want to give you a dolly but Mummy said I had to as a sacwifice to the kingdom." She held her hands to her mouth to whisper. "She is not my favowite dolly anyway."

"Still, I will guard her with my life."

As he leaned down, the queen grabbed Princess Luella by the waist and, with some effort, raised her. The chubby little girl gave him a peck on the nose as one would a bunny.

The queen grunted as she lowered Princess Luella, almost dropping her. "Do not worry, she will be bleeding by the time you get back," the queen said sharply. "We will have an engagement fete, a week of audiences, dances, and dinners."

"But Sir Rufus is arranging a fete also."

"Then you will have to choose," said the queen, glaring. "A future king would be best suited to the company of nobility, not those . . . savages."

"Yes, my lady," he said, genuflecting.

The jolly fat king tottered forward. "Godspeed and all that," he muttered, "kill us a dragon."

"By your command," Sir Auric said, dropping his helm in place with a tap.

Kicking the horse hard, he charged off to the . . . nods and titters of the crowd.

*****

"By golly she will be bleeding by the time I return."

Well into the journey, he had long since stored his armor, riding nude. He laid forward, ass in the air, his arms draped around the neck of the horse. They cantered along, still arguing about his sendoff, well, he was arguing, the horse perhaps listening.

"What would I want with a chubby little girl anyway? Oh, do not worry Sir Auric, she is a late bloomer, she will mature, shooting up tall and thin as a reed, but a reed with hefty bosoms."

He sat up, angling his dick to the side as he peed.

"And Sir Rufus, a Master at his age, teaching is for the old or infirm. Why he would want to waste his days, at his masculine peak, with all those boys?"

Still, he swelled.

"Well, I do not want either; I just want to prove myself, on quests or in battle." He lay back down on the horse, grinding his hips to a comfortable position. "I do not need them; all I need is a steed between my thighs and a sword and shield at my sides." He gave a deep sigh, closing his eyes. "Wake me when we get there."

*****

He checked his map in comparison; all the signs were present, on the ground, the skull and crossbones, ahead, two trees leaned together to form an 'X', and the biggest sign, a literal sign reading 'North Mountains Cave - Danger, Dragon Lair!'

He dismounted the horse and unbundled his armor. His feet, wrapped in cloth, he placed in steel shoes, pinned to the greaves strapped to his calves. Gloves, slid over his hands, reached past the elbow. He draped a chainmail half-shirt over his shoulders. Feeling a breeze, he wrapped a chainmail short-skirt about his naked waist. Moving about, testing the fit, he nodded with approval.

He dropped his helm in place with a tap. With sword and shield raised, he entered the lair. The horse followed.

"I do not think you want to come in here, dragons eat horses." The horse neighed. "Seriously, you would make a good meal." The horse neighed again. "Suit yourself."

He stealthily crept from crevice to crevice, boulder to boulder. The horse clomped along behind. He turned to the horse with a 'shush', then, with a loud clang to his helm, dropped to the ground.

*****

Groggily he woke, fighting back the headache, prying his eyes open. Warm, grimy dirt beneath him, lying face down, he was nude. He stirred, making a slight scratching noise, which reverberated in the cavern.

Past a flaming cauldron, two large, yellow eyes flickered. Its silhouette could barely be made out, the unfathomable proportions of the creature obscured in shadow. At his side, his horse oddly moved its head left to right, right to left.

Schnaccccct!

A blur was the slash of the tail, which pierced his shoulder. As he cried out, warm blood trickled from the wound.

Schnaccccct!

The tail shot towards him, his left buttock slashed. Perfectly still, his eyes searched before him. Straining to look up, as high as he could arch his neck, he watched it sweep slowly, left to right . . . right to left . . .

Schnaccccct!

He rolled on his side and the tail met dirt. Back in position, he watched the dark curve sweep slowly left to right, right to left. A crick in his neck, he dropped his head.

Schnaccccct!

He instinctively rolled on his side, but the wrong side, his stomach pierced. This time, feeling quite heady, the pain was manageable. Still, he dare not take his eyes off the thing. Past the bright flame of the cauldron, the dark curve of the tail swept slowly left to right . . . right to left . . . left to right . . . right to left . . . left to right . . . right to left . . .

How did I end up here? he thought. Oh, that is right, the quest to slay the dragon. I am to slay the dragon because I am a knight and that is what knights do, prove themselves on quests or in battle.

The dark curve of the tail swept slowly left to right . . . right to left . . .

What am I trying to prove, that I am good at killing things? No, that is not it. That I am strong and brave, manly, the epitome of manliness, to be adored and admired?

The dark curve of the tail swept slowly left to right . . . right to left . . .

There was a time when I was not so fit or skilled, and preferred artistic endeavors . . . poetry and music. I was enrolled in the army . . . to 'toughen me up'!

The dark curve of the tail swept slowly left to right . . . right to left . . .

'Toughen me up' . . . increase masculinity . . . suppress femininity. To be feminine . . . weak, fearful, not a protector . . . would that be so bad, to have someone protect me?

The dark curve of the tail swept slowly left to right . . . right to left . . .

Would have to earn his favor . . . like all the women who . . . squirmed . . .

The dark curve of the tail swept slowly left to right . . . right to left . . .

Not what men do . . . a finger or two . . . the hilt of my sword. To admit the desire . . . act on it, would be humiliating . . . unless . . .

The dark curve of the tail swept slowly left to right . . . right to left . . .

Sir Rufus . . . modest cock . . . boys take it easy . . . no challenge . . . something larger . . . a boy cannot take . . . much larger . . . only a man would brave . . . even larger!

The dark curve of the tail swept slowly left to right . . . right to left . . .

*****

How the fuck did I end up here? Some fucking guy straps a bit in my mouth, climbs on my back, and kicks my sides. Sure it feels good, not the kicking, to have a purpose, but what do I really do? It is not as if I do something valuable, like plowing or milling. I save him the time and effort of walking. Seriously, walking, like that is so fucking hard. I am tired of guys hitching a ride, what do I get out of it, a fucking apple? Fuck that, and fuck him, see how he likes it . . .

*****

With the soft clomp of hooves on dirt, something large, thick, and wet slid up his thighs. The horse over him, protecting him, he felt safe enough to look back over his shoulder. A mottled cock as big as his arm, the eye winked, expelling a dollop of horse mess. The warm wetness filled his crack, dribbling, tickling his loins.

He raised himself to his hands and knees. The horse rutted, shoving him hard. Grabbing the saddle straps for support, when the horse rutted again he pressed with all his might. There was exertion but no pain as, in staggered fitful kicks, the cock worked its way into his ass. Panting, he fought the urge to go limp, surrender.

Summoning his strength, he doubled his grip on the reins, twisting the lines around his wrists, and kicked his legs up, finding hold on the haunches of the horse to pull himself off the cock. The horse rutted, impaling him. He grunted loudly as his own modest cock swelled and burst, hosing the dirt with man mess. Again he pulled off, was impaled, and again he swelled and burst, over and over again as he rode the horse to climax.

As the horse whinnied, haunches tense, Sir Auric gave out a battle cry, having performed a task requiring strength and courage, a heroic task, a deed worthy of a warrior, but as he looked about, the presence behind the cauldron was gone.

A staggered hiss reverberated through the cavern, not a laugh, but still proudly satisfied.

*****

Once the venom wore off, at least he concluded it was venom, the pain set in, most notably at his hole, gaped open. The venom must have also had narcotic effects. What all seemed so clear in the cave, now he did not believe. Still, he remembered it quite vividly, to be one with such a large cock, an extension of that cock . . .

"Impossible," he muttered.

He would ask the horse if it really did happen, but the horse would not answer. Still, it did seem to be a happier horse.

Defeated, he set off from the cave, heading to . . . to where? Back to the princess, back to Sir Rufus? Not only did he fail, but also he was ashamed. No you highness, I did not slay the dragon, but I did take a large cock up the ass . . . He doubted they would be impressed; he could never return.

Never to return, to the king, the court, the wealthy, the workers, and, sigh, mother. His life was over. No longer being a knight would leave a gaping hole in his life that could never be filled. He fell on his knees; he needed a sign. The horse stepped over him, something large, thick, and wet poking his rear.

It is not as if I could possibly hurt more, he thought.

It actually hurt less. As the horse began to trot, to keep from being dragged against the ground, he stepped in kind.

"Look there, a horse riding a man!" The press of travelers upon him, it was too late to hide. Instead, he took it like a man, no, like a knight.

A fat, dirty face leaned in. "Good sir, do you need help?" Sir Auric shook his head. "To take a stallion, I have never seen the act done before, never even knew the notion conceived."

"And you never will," he said, gasping.

"Does it hurt?"

"A sword through the chest is less painful."

"Then why do you do it?"

"Because I can . . ." The horse rutted, shoving him; he cringed. "Tell the tale, good man, of Sir Auric, strong and brave enough to take the largest cock in all the kingdom."

The man nodded, then shook his head. "I have seen larger, there is a giant living in the forest to the West." The man spread his arms wide to illustrate. "Now that would be a feat!"

As the travelers were headed to the kingdom, taking this news with them, he had to give a fitting end to the story. He told his tale, which he ended by crying, "Onward, to my next quest! To slay, nay, lay the mighty giant!" The travelers cheered him on as he ran, urging the horse faster.

The horse neighed, I take it back; I want a fucking apple, as they rode off into the sunset.