FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

It's amazing what a little magic can do. Just a simple little invocation, a simple spell to preserve life after injury, can lead to so many wonderful results.

That's what I do: Give wonder to people. Well, people who can afford my services and tickle my interests. See, there's a trick to getting a really unusually result. It involves, usually, decapitation. If you strike off the head and then preserve the body, you end up with motor function retention, and nerve responses across the now empty space. It took me a while to realise the true meaning in the spell's words. The brain remains active but suspended, and rot is prevented. My clients soon learned I could do exciting things.

Often, it's minor things. Limb removal for a more docile and less mobile fuck-toy. Passage enlargement for people who are magically enhanced. Temporary nullification for those that might need their dick back some day.

Women tend to be less frequent but more exotic in what they want. Decapitation, head relocation, nipple migration... nether-lip-teeth. It delights me to think of all the little pokers that must get bitten off by some of my clients.

That's not to say I will modify just anyone. There is a screening process, interviews, and a breif psycological profiling. Being a dragon helps with the last part. It's often amazing how much people think they're hiding within their words.

---

I was having a pretty normal day. Decapitate racoon, cast preserve, add polish brass collar and plate to both stumps. Indeed, the past few weeks had been so mundane, so run-of-the-mill. There was no challenge, no difference. No real art; just basic crafting.

Brooding over lunch, I decided to poke ahead on the list of requests, see if there was anything exciting. I noticed a language I had not seen for some time. Orc runes on a rather thick velum page.

I browsed through the information. It was hand written, quite neat script. "Someone has a scribe" I mused, knowing it would mean a rather important rank if they had highly literate subordinates. After the usual "We request your services" speel the letter began to describe the item to be cusomised.

Name, Ancestry, Merits... Merits gave me pause, the list being quite long. I browsed for some reason as to why a highly acomplished orc was being downsized so far.

Clan - I had seen the rune describing his clan before. It was one I am still unable to fully translate. Without being an orc, it's significance is often lost. "Disowned". "Outcast". "Exiled". They just don't weigh quite as heavy as that rune.

The next heading, Crime, was in deep red. Flicking my tongue over it's surface I tasted it for what it was, blood. "His blood... this should be interesting"

The crime seemed another petty act by primitive people; people who don't use Honour, Gold, Reputation and Truth to measure things. It did not interest me, but the fact that I might be able to have free reign over the customisation was of great interest.

I wrote a reply, trying to pull on my language skills to make the idiom I wanted to express sound better. There's something terribly... missing in the translation of "It takes four legs to fly" (which is the closest I can get in Orc or any Human tongue). "Pillars" makes more sense than legs, but still does not convey the fact.

---

A few weeks past and a liase was decided. While the orcs were eager for me to get started, I needed to confirm some things. I have an affectation when it comes to liasons. I use an interpretor. Usually just one of my staff (often quite smaller than me or the second party to add a dimension of me being above both sides) that can speak a slightly older version of my prefered speech. It helps put the other side on edge since they cannot gleam anything from what I say.

"He says they can pay any price", my little fennec maid said.

"They're not interested in the cost at all, they just don't care about it. But they want me because they've heard things. I wonder what I'm missing, what the limit is... Ask what they want done"

A few guttural grunts from the fennec and the most painted of the orcs gave a quick response by pulling his thumb over his neck from right to left quickly.

"Oh, I hope they think I'm not an assassin now. No, that reputation would never get around. Let's get specific. Ask about punishment, whether a display is needed, duration of time customised. Is it for trial or is it to make him disappear."

There was a back-and-forth for a while. I could understand perfectly well what both my maid and guests were saying, but tried to feign bordom and ignorance. They wanted a real show to be put on. Wanted to march this criminal around for years, until every clan he had hurt was forgotten and his honour and merits were beyond history's reach.

"Ask one more thing. Who will keep the body after his name is dead"

In responce, the leader pointed to me. I stood, offering my dagger handle first. The party rose, the lead vanguard matching my gesture. With weapons exchanged I lead my new allies out to fetch my "raw materials".

---

I had decided to try something rather showy. For an extra grizzled look, as well as a nice show for my green guests, I strapped my model down at the thighs and upper arms only on a large steel platform. I always prefered a bit of limb flaying when starting. It really adds a sense of... perminance. Getting the spell ready, I began.

The model's anger moved quite quickly to fear and pleeding when he saw the crude flint knife in my hand, coming towards his throat. The other orcs were crowding in, snearing at his begs for mercy, waiting for his demise. I started at the adam's apple, cutting roughly, hacking into his neck. I wanted it to look like it took minutes of agonising butchery. In reality I only had a little time. 10 seconds after the first prick I was through his spine. Within a heartbeat the spell was cast and sealed. His limbs, briefly still as nerves were severed, suddenly sprung back to life, franticly trying to each his neck or tear themselves from their bondage.

The orcs recoiled, not expecting this outcome. "He will live", I spoke to them "in pain. No death, no honour. Only pain."

With the eyes of the hacked head staring at me in shock, I picked it up and placed it on a spike at the top of the platform, allowing it to see the rest of my plan unfold.

"No women" I said as I sliced through the soft, thick blob of manhood, slitting it in two halves and removing the left one completelty. The remaining demi-shaft curled inwards due to muscle strain.

"No kin" I said as I used the shaft of the knife to smash the two orbs into pieces, the body flinching at the pain coursing through it. Putting the knife down, I picked up something I had thougholy enjoyed crafting: A flint shaft, about 12 inches long, 3 thick, and quite spiky throughout.

"No rest" I said as I began to force it into the orcs backside. Blood appeared. I could hear flesh being torn assunder, sphinckters snapping under the strain.

"No standing" I said, probably the only pun I could make in orcish, as I placed the knife side his big toe and ran it down to his ankle. Doing the same on the other side, I stood back to look at my creating. It certainly was a grim totem, a real sign of what happens to people who break clan law.

Walking back to the head, I picked it up. Taking a pair of pliers from a pocket on my belt I took hold of a lower canine. The tusks of the boars. "No pride" I said as I hanked the tooth out. The few remaining tears held in the head began to flow. I lifted an eyelid, drove the tuck through it, then lifted the lower lid and followed through, forcing the eye shut. I repeated the process, knowing I now had a blind orc in a lot of pain.

"Payment" was the next thing I said, still holding onto the head. The orcs were quick to snap out of the trance my macabre display had put them in. Two chests of gold embelished leather work.

"He has half a life to suffer before he is mine", I told them. "No fire, no blades. Sticks if wanted, insects if needed. Leave him exposed."

I looked forward to visiting the tribe in a year to see where they had decided to display the trophy I had made for them. I hoped it was outside their school or training grounds.