FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

"So this is the district."

Annual slowly tilted his head, attempting to take in the sight before him. It was a sea of lights, twinkling against the canvas of night that other mythos had chosen to paint upon, various signs illuminating the sky, attempting to draw visitors in. Promises of pleasure, of pain, of plenty echoed throughout above the din of the various creatures bustling about their business, some crowing their wares, others attempting to lure in other patrons, like conductors attempting to crowd the last few lemmings onto a subway car, packed in like sardines. Taking a moment to adjust his vest, Annual began to assume a brisk gait, deftly managing to dodge the various clutching paws, talons and tendrils that attempted to direct his attention torwards what struck little interest.

He was a slender fellow, light in his physic, enough to keep himself healthy, yet hardly muscular. His fur the color of golden wheat, icy-blue eyes darting about in wonder, his twin tails twirling about one another with excitement. A kitsune, and a young one at that by many standards, old enough to venture forth on his own to explore the world, though inexperienced in many things that same world can offer or take from him. He had chosen to come to this part of the city called simply by locals, "The District", in order to indulge in a fetish he had kept secret from his clan for ages. Many of those whom he called family were expects in the mystic hards, but not himself. While his brothers and sisters studiously studied the ancient tests, learning how to shape-shift, summon forth fox fire and mastering the arts of manipulation, he shunned these things in favor of a more modern age. It showed around his hands, the fur there slightly darkened from years of working with machinery. It was like a fine wine to him, the smell of motor oil, the hard cold touch of steel, the potential for a slight shock from a crossed wire. Even though he was more than adept at the art, he still chose to fumble at times just to receive such a quick zap, enough to make him yip in delight. It pained him at times that he couldn't continue to have whatever device he might be repairing or building take him, but the risk of discovery with what could be considered a "taboo" for his family group was not something he chose to entertain. Yet here, in the district, he was away from the elder's careful eyes, and the irritating curiosity that the younger kitsune had.

Though he continued to cautiously peek into various establishments in order to avoid being literally dragged inside by over-eager owners, he saw little what he hoped to find. Many places specialized in companionship, but not the kind he yearned for. The touch of warmth did little for his libido, and after walking away from yet another parlor, he slumped against a wall and sighed heavily, sinking slowly down to rest upon a drum barrel that had been fashioned into a crude bench. The cold seeped slowly through his garments, tickling his posterior with it's delicious, inanimate caress, and his ears perked slightly from the welcome chill. Yet they quickly turned into the direction of a soft giggle, turning to nearly find himself kissing the source.

The minotaur giggled again, raising his head and brushing the few locks of hair from his eyes, slowly gazing the kitsune up and down, stopping upon spying his hands. Blinking a few times, he then moved to sit upon the ground alongside Annual, stretching slowly. Upon closer examination, Annual noticed that the mythos' fur glistened with sweat, and his face was slightly tinged pink.

'He's either been working hard, or just come from one of the parlors....' Annual mused, tilting his head and thought, only to be interrupted by a third giggle. Growling slightly, he stiffened his shoulders in annoyance, glaring at the minotaur now seeming to inch closer by the moment.

"Is there something you want, or are you just attempting to be a mook."

"Oooh...nothiing...but I notice that you've got the hands of a mechanic..."

"And...you can tell this why..?"

"Any kitsune I've known practically has a manicure for their hands. Not you though." The minotaur suddenly grabbed Annual's wrists, causing his fur to bristle in alarm, then blushed softly when he was forced to caress the minotaur's face.

"Mm, nice and strong...so!" his newfound "friend" exclaimed, leaping to his feet yet keeping a firm grip, "what brings you to the district! Obviously some fun, but for someone to have not found something yet means nothing good!"

Annual chose to remain silent, his jaw set, his muscles visibly tensing. While he wasn't sure of this, he wasn't certain either he could escape. From the other males grip, it was easy to ascertain who was the superior in raw strength. The minotaur leaned close, tickling Annual's ear with hot breath, whispering softly.

"I'll be direct..you want to have sex with a machine...to feel it around you, smell the ozone, the oil, feel the cold grip of steel and rubber...right?"

Annual immediately froze, no longer concerned with attempting to contemplate an escape plan, instead eager to hear this sudden proposal. Perhaps it was because desire was clouding his judgement, but the method of how this minotaur managed to deduce exactly what he wanted mattered little at the moment.

"I can help...just follow me."

Annual swayed slightly, seeming to be almost entranced now, standing up and allowing the newcomer to lead him by the wrists-an unnoticed sign of dominance-through the crowds to a small parlor. It was sparse in it's furnishings, but after allowing his eyes to adjust to the dim green light, he had found his heaven. The entire room, oval in shape, was covered head to toe with various mechanical devices. They seemed benign, but that only furthered to excite him, a bulge starting to form in his trousers, growing by the second. Each wall of the room was covered in banks of computers and mechanics, robotic arms seeming to rest nestled within their holdings, and in the center, appeared to be a place for him to straddle. It was shaped slightly like a motor bike, the seat a rich red leather, the handles almost comically oversized. He didn't even need an introduction, instead beginning to struggle to free himself from his hosts grasp. The minotaur giggled once more, then let the kitsune free, watching him literally scamper about the parlor like a child does in a newly discovered toy store. He watched Annual run his hands over the machines, not bothering to note what was already obvious, instead choosing to walk behind the crafted counter near the doorway. Taking a moment after satisfying himself, Annual collected his thoughts, then stepped over and cleared his throat before speaking in an overly professional tone.

"How much to experience this...wonderful place."

"Ooh...I don't know...how much are you willing to give?"

Annual felt the blood flush from his face. If an owner gives a question like that, chances are, what he wants to experience-everything-was well beyond his planned budget. Turning to the door, he thanked the minotaur for his time, only to hear the door hiss when it slide closed.

"You didn't answer my question, you know.."

"It's...it's because I don't have enough."

Waving a finger, the minotaur smiled strangely.

"I didn't ask how much you had. I asked how much you are willing to give."

Realizing the nature of the question, Annual reached for his weapon, pulling it out of it's concealment. The minotaur crooked an eyebrow slightly, then allowed a grin to mark his features when Annual literally shredded his clothing from himself, leaving only his boxers visible, the front straining to conceal his excitement, a small spot of wetness already visible.

"This a good enough answer?"

"Oh yes...more than enough. SO...step on over to the ride and give it a straddle." the minotaur turned, beginning to type on a holographic screen and keyboard. Annual turned to gather up the scraps of his clothing, keeping his back to the minotaur. He seemed to fumble for a few moments with something, then removed his belongings and discarded the scraps of into a trash reciptical.

"Is there anywhere I can store my belongings?" The minotaur nodded, motioning over to a pair of small lockers. Annual stepped over to them to store his belonging, listening to the lock click after he scanned his thumbprint for identification. He then turned and, with hands clutched to his chest with anticipation, moved to the device, circling it before laying atop it, allowing his arms to dangle near the front for a moment.

"We'll be sure to give you more than you can handled." He called after while Annual stepped off and began to shed his boxers, shaking in anticipation.

The kitsune shuddered upon straddling the device, feeling the coolness of the leather upon his toned little rump, his tails bristled with excitement, ears perked. Leaning forward, he bent himself over and gripped the handle-bars. The device purred beneath him within moments of his fingers curling around the handle, small bars snapping into place above and beneath his wrist, locking his hands in place. More clicks were heard, straps buckling themselves around his thighs, extending shackles clipping onto his ankles. The entire device moved, stretching him out across the device, his belly resting upon the leather while his pouch dipped into a small aclove. The back portion of the device raised slightly, exposing his rump while a robotic arm from the room reached down and snapped onto the base of his tails, holding them clear and allowing easy access to his tight pucker. Panting softly, Annual bowed his head, shutting his eyes, visibly shivering in anticipation.

"Hang on little guy...don't pop it just yet." The minotaur pressed in a few more keys, sweat starting to bead his brow, reaching a hand down to push down his own bulge that was beginning to swell in his own loins. Tapping in a few more keys, the command prompt flashed at him with a pair of options.

Execute Full Service: Yes/No.

With a mere three key tap, the projection shut down, and the room lit up. Raising his head softly, Annual gazed at the machinery beginning to purr and moan at him while they went through their boot-up cycles. His member started to peek out immediaty, slowly extending, a bead of pre already forming at the tip. He continued to tilt his head, gazing aroudn at the room, then gasped at an arm which extending downwards and clipped something gently onto his head, all sight and all sound blocked from the outside. All he hear was a soft, almost hypnotic tone, then a soft whisper, no louder than a spring breeze, coo to him.

"Safety word please?"

"Ah...there is none....?" Annual spoke, unable to hear his own voice, though he chuckled at the prospect of that same phrase being used between lovers. He heard the whisper return, acknowledging it's acceptance of the phrase, surprised that it did.

He sat there in complete darkness and near total silence save for the relaxing tones, then felt something icy cold grip his rear. Arching himself, he felt what appeared to be mechanical hands, icy cold to the touch, their fingertips practiced, rolling and squeezing the flesh there. He moaned out loudly, feeling the hands slowly spread him, using their fingertips to tickle his anus with sharp nails, pressing their chilly palms into his fur. Another sensation crept over him, that same icy steel touch now starting to caress his chest, scratching and teasing, drawing slow circles at first, then graduating to complex geometric shape, leaving small red lines beneath his fur. The hands at his chest slowly traced down his stomach, scratching and stroking, taking care to just barely tickle him. He shuddered again, moaning out, unable to hear his own cries of lust, his foxhood now fully exposed and beginning to throb with need. Another device kicked in, starting to drizzle a warm fluid over his rear, trickling over his posterior, warming the mechanical hands and allowing it to easily slide over his fur, marred slick with lubricant. Something began to massage his tail pucker, slowly and carefully, round and firm before starting to squeeze in with an agonizing, practice paced. He felt the hands press his rear around the thick rod, felt it begin to spin slowly, so slowly, like it was drilling into him. They continued to use his rear to seemingly massage the shaft while it continued to venture within him, rotating with no sense of urgency. Moaning once again, he attempted to push himself more against the toy, only to feel the hands keep him from doing so, allowing it to carefully and quietly penetrate him.

The hands at his chest gripped clumps of fur and tugged playfully, caressing and petting their mechanical fingers through before going back to scratching and drawing random circles. He huffed loudly, tongue lulling out from this attention, feeling something wet begin to lick and caress his muzzle. It seemed to nuzzle a moment before planting feather-soft kisses along his lips, almost taunting him to attempt to capture it with his jaws. He tried to do so, snapping at the device, eager to suckle, only to feel his teeth click against air. Whimpering disappointment filled the air before something clamped over his entire muzzle, temporarily cutting off his air supply. He squirmed in alarm, then calmed down upon feeling fresh oxygen flow through the toy. He felt several small tendrils worm their way into his maw, then open it up and a phallus-like device push in before it constricted, forcing him to keep the toy contained in his jaw. It began to pump in something tart, something warm and wet and slimy, and he had little choice but to swallow. The device seemed to approve while the phallus device pulsated, and a sweet scent filled his nostrils, causing him to relax and enjoy the tangy treat. If he was correct, it was like an ice cream, but he couldn't place it. He was distracted long enough to forget the device in his rear until it began to change shape, taking on a spiraled texture that began to slowly deliver a small throb of electricy to his body. It continued to spin, moving like a horizontal top, no motion forward or backwards. Annual groaned around his gag, suckling eagerly on it while the hands resumed their massage on his chest and butt. Another surprise came out, a pair of arms coming from some of the machines near the floor with suckers.

Reaching out to his feet, they clicked a sucker over each set of toes, pressing against the sole to begin to lick and tickle with dozens of tiny, wet tongues. Annual tipped loudly around his gag, though due to the device around his head and ears still couldn't hear anything, unaware that the stimulation on his body had made other parts he ignored so overly sensative. It felt fantastic, his soles being traced by these wicked little tongues, his toes squeezed, pulled and suckle, like he was a kit being teased by a baby sitter. He attempted to move his ankles, only to find his legs pulled taught to the machine, another set of mechanical hands massaging and scratching at his calves. He was now only supported by his belly, but even that apparatus had begun to vibrate gently, sending relaxing warm waves through him, a stark contrast to the icy touch of his steel lover. Though through all this time, his member had hung there, throbbing in need, yet unattended to. He wondered when his needs would finally be addressed, if this machine was designed to mercilessly tease and torment him, but the answer soon came. The device within him began to thrust, slowly and carefully with a surgeon's grace, all the while continuing to spin while it kept the jolts coming. He felt the hands now grip his rear with a harsh massage, the drill beginning to move faster and faster, nearly exiting from him only to delve back inside, the hands releasing his rear. Unbeknownst to him, they receeded into the ceiling, only for a device to descend downwards, equipped with leather straps. It began to spin, delivering a soft caress at first, then a light slap followed by an increasing intensity. Annual yipped at the spanking, feeling his rear start to grow hot from the straps slapping against it, echoing through the room, hitting his buttocks in tandem, keeping pack with the plowing he was receiving, the drill moving at a quickened pace now, slamming into his prostate with each thrust, causing him to howl. The fluid that the gag was feeding him shifted from a soft cream to a thick, oily consistancy with the flavour of cherry, which he eagerly gulped down.

It was during this time he felt the first soft caress of leather on his cock. Moaning, he attempted to push himself into whatever was paying attention to him down there, but his movement was restricted by bare wiggles and jerks. A pair of mechanical hands, coated in the same red leather like the platform he layed upon, reached up to begin to soft stroke and touch with their fingertips. They moved gently up and down his length, spreading along the trickle of pre-cum they had been collecting all this time, his own essense now helping to pleasure him. A hand reached up to stroke his pouch before taking it and gently squeezing, the other moving to grip his shaft, beginning a milking motion. He whimpered loud enough to hear himself beyond his seclusion, the hands at his cock seeming to reward him, gliding up and down with soft, gentle touches, tickling the head, then shifting once again, both starting at the base and gripping tight. It glides downward, from base to tip, only to be replaced by the other one doing the same motion, effectively trying to milk him. All this while, the drilling he has been receiving doesn't let up, continuing to plow into him, the straps moving quickly now, literally tanning his head with slaps that echo throughout the room, mingling with the humming machinery. Hands now caress every inch of his body with their icy touch, cold nails scratching along, chilly palms pressing, slapping, massaging his chest, his back, his thighs and calves, even his arms are paid attention to. And yet the hands at his cock continue to slowly move in their kitsune milking ritual, intend on making it last as long as possible. Annual whines profusely into his gag, the device that was gagging him suddenly lighting up, showing various camera angles and allow the tones to be mingled with a recording of his own groans, yips and moan. He was now privelige to his own molestation by these machines, able to see himself spanked and drilled into, watching his cock being slowly milked by the red leather hands, wet and glistening with his pre. Shuddering to a point of convulsions, Annual managed to whimper something into the gag, unsure if it was heard.

"P-please...."

The hands at his member stopped, then quickly changed pace, joined by a third. The third quickly reached for his pouch and held it with a firm grip, starting to caress the fuzzy orbs and vibrate, one of the hands that had be milking him adjusting it's angle to grip the head of his shaft, fondling it with it's fingers, forcing him to grind it into it's palm only to grip it in a fist and twist. A fourth hand joined the one still at his foxhood, placing it between their palms and rubbing quickly, like they were attempting to stoke the fire that had been building within him even more so. Back and forth they rubbed, the hand holding the head of his cock jerking quickly, not allowing it to leave but instead keeping it within its slick grip, the one at his pouch tugging ever so carefully before giving a loving pat, then resuming it's massage. Annual howled in lust, his tongue licking eagerly at what had him gagged, the drill now moving fast enough to spray lubricant onto his fur, which only allowed the straps slapping against his rear to move more easily over their slimy target, the flesh there visible through the fur, a quivering tomato red. The suckers at his feet pulled intensely on his toes, and licked furiously at his feet, their lubricant practically dripping from the machine while the chilly, lifeless hands quickly gripped onto his form. His penis was given a few hard, almost painful strokes before the hand at his head delivered a devious twist that was a full circle.

It was the best orgasm he ever had. His entire body seized up, every muscle aching for release, some pulling to a point that they needed a massage just to relax them. His balls tightened, his cock spraying forth his seed, enough to squirt out from between the fingers of the hand gripping the organs head. The clutch of his rear on teh drill was enough to cause it to strain despite the copious amounts of lubricant that it used, his breath coming in long pants, the gag having relaxed around his mouth to allow the syrup to dribble down his chin, allowing him room to pant around the gag. It seemed to last an eternity, the high he felt from these few seconds of mechanized bliss, and he never wished to leave. And perhaps that was the idea. He felt something clip around the shaft of his penis, vibrating and stimulating him with electricty, helping him to keep his erection. The gag once again tightened his muzzle around the phallus after draining away the excess syrup. The drilling once more resumed in full capacity once he relaxed his anal muscles, though the spanking never waned, and the mechanical hands continued to massage his body, working away the exhaustion in his muscles before resuming their own play. The entire time though that they allowed him a few moments to recover, his cock was waited upon, replaced with fresh, clean hands. However, he felt something warm and sticky now being smeared upon his fur by the hands massaging and tickling his body.

"W-Wow...the AI r-routine...r-really liked him.."

The minotaur watched, his own body shining with sweat, and his own cock exposed while he wiped his hands clean. The windows had darkened themselves to avoid pyring eyes, and the entry-ways locked upon activation of the program, ensuring privacy of those within. He saw the hands that were covered with kitsune cum recede into their comparments, only to be washed clean and injected into a compartment, mixed with oils and then used to massage Annual. Turning to the console, he picked up a pencil and pushed a button to avoid damaging the equipment with his still sticky hand, checking the time.

"Six hours left...?!" I set it only for six minutes...! At least...I thought..."

He heard Annual whine again through the recording speakers and turned back, then noticed through one of the cameras that the machine Annual was seated upon had been tampered with. Hanging off of it was a small chord, and attached to it, a device that responded to vocal commands attuned to the users voice patterns; it was obviously the source of the alterations. Looking back at Annual, he delivered a wide grin, idly gliding a fingertip down his own bullhood.

"Maybe I should hire the kid. It'd definetally pay off...for both of us."