FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

I sat in my study, absentmindedly reading through a copy of an ancient lore saga on dragons and leviathans. It was humorous to see how other races portrayed us before the Age of Enlightenments occurred. Ah, how history changes as time passes.

It was not my usual place to be in the study alone, but my "house guests" required some time alone. A certain Mr. Jarret Night had requested my services but wanted it to be a surprise for his little pet. So I was to remain discrete and only approach the boudoirs at the critical moment.

Glancing to the clock above the warming fire, I noticed the hour did at last grow near. Not that I am impatient... but desire does stir a driving urgency in me. And I did love my work so.

I approached the door, certain I would not be heard over the rather strained sounds emitted by the hardwood bed frame and sprung mattress. There was little sign of a struggle, but certainly sounds of pain and slight abuse from one voice.

The clock chimed inside the room. There was a brief relent, the mattress calming itself for just a second, before the sounds resumed with more vigor.

"You're mine now. Mine forever. You know that, don't you? You're never getting away again. All... mine..." said my guest.

I entered quietly, seeing Jarret slamming in and out of his pet Icy's ass. Icy appeared to be strapped down roughly, hemp cords at his wrists and knees keeping him bound face-down on the bed, near the end for easy access. I stepped up next to Jarret, placed a hand on his shoulder to let him know I was there and ready. I held a blade in my other hand, moving it in front of him for him to take. Icy, eye's squeezed closed in pain, did not seem to know I was there.

Jarret stopped his pounding, waiting for Icy to look up at his master. After a brief pause, Icy did look, eyes going wide as he saw first me, then the blade his master held.

"Wh-" the word never escaped his lips as his master plunged the blade into the back of his neck, high up near the skull base. His body went limp, his last breath rushing from his lungs in a gurgle from the blood escaping into his airway.

I waited just a few seconds more, for his eyes to dull, before casting the spell, sealing his soul to his body, allowing him to reject death.

"A fine blow, Mr. Night. Now, I know what you want out of dear Slave Icy but you are welcome to continue a little if you wish. Please do not go too extreme on parts you wish to use later. Healing is not my art, but repairs are certainly my craft."

I walked out of the room, satisfied with a job well done. It was time for me to relax, visit one of my more... inventive creations perhaps.

---

The next morning, I treated my guest to polite conversation and a large dinner. He brought a conversation piece to the table; Icy's severed head. I knew it was not obvious to him, but the eyes appeared to struggle a little to focus. As breakfast concluded, and my headless waiter and waitress pair removed the dishes, I offered to clean up the roughly cut stump of a neck remaining, but Mr. Night informed me that he would prefer it to remain grizzled. Who am I to argue with a client?

---

I went to the room used once my guest had left. There was... a reasonable amount of blood. Another cost of letting a body feel death before removing them from the need to worry about it. I decided I would have to get the bed frame cleaned and just remove all stained soft furniture. I complimented myself for choosing the room I disliked most. Pulling back the duvet I found the materials I had to work with: A bound and broken body of a tiger.

"He did some work on you..." I said, before realizing the head was already on a journey back home.

Each limb had been sliced open or at least attempted to be cut in two at the joint. The arms and legs were still bound by rope to the bed posts, the ropes now slack. I set to work.

First was to force each limb out of its socket. It was... unpleasant, the entire body responding to the sensation (and the pain) of having its limbs played with from quite a distance. I was partly glad that my "clay" remained restrained. The right leg did have a broken femur, so removing the quad muscles and lower leg first was the best approach. Next I went to the wardrobe and remove the small chest from the bottom shelf. It contained more precise instruments than the dagger I had given my guest.

I removed, as carefully as possible, both shoulder blades. It took great care not to perforate the skin and to not remove the wrong muscle mass. I did not want a deformity to be apparent. Job done, I trimmed the arm off leaving a neat flap of fur (about half the upper arm fur was undamaged, so the flap gave me plenty of play room). Moving to the legs, I decided that padding the hip would be too strange. With the right leg almost completely removed of muscle near the top, I had to just even both out. The bones might not be comfortable, but it would have to do. There was just enough undamaged skin to cover what remained.

The neck was a disaster. While a neat decapitation had been attempted, there was a lot of rent flesh too. The skin remaining was cut or jagged. I peeled back the skin from the top to as far down the neck as I could. Reaching into my tool chest I removed a rather large curved blade, the type used for amputations in times before surgery. The neck gave way easily, removing an ugly stump and leaving a reasonably flat circle of flesh just above the collar.

I took what remained attached to the torso into the bathroom to clean. A simple, slightly acidic solution was waiting in the tub. After a few minutes, I released the plug to drain the tub and picked up the shower head. I opened the cupboard behind me, allowing a mouse servant to walk out. Her training caused her to take the shower from me and begin to scrub the form in the bath. I reached into the bidet, removing the nozzle from the base, specially designed to be used from anywhere in the bathroom. I placed it down the esophagus and turned it on, to allow the system to be flushed through.

---

It was about an hour later when a very wet mouse struggled to carry a soaking wet, dripping tiger torso into my craft room. I had brought some extra help into the room, who soon began drying my current project. Once dry, I lifted him onto a table. My sewing kit in hand, I began my task.

Each flap was carefully drawn together, then the excess was trimmed away. In the end, it looked almost perfect. Only around the top was there some tightness showing that there was supposed to be something there other than a slight hump where a neck should be.

The sheath was left along, although the testes were removed through a tiny flap incision near the base. I knew if left in there they would start to smell. It seemed my magic was not good at keeping virility alive. The tail I brushed and trimmed carefully with a razor. It was important that the tail feel soft.

I ran my hands over my creating, admiring how good my work had turned out. All that remained was the test run. I unclipped my pants, shrugging them down just enough to allow my semi-aroused self out. Placing it against the underside of the tail, I pushed in slowly, hand on the sheath of my body-pillow tiger. I felt the sheath stretch slightly, and a cold patch of bare skin touch my finger.

"Ah, the joys of near death and terminal arousal" I sighed, glad my abnormal delay had the intended result.

I took some photos of my creation for archival (and advertising) reasons. It was quite a sight, a nearly oval pillow, complete with tail and sheath. It was hard to imagine it once being attached to arms, legs and a head. It was hard to even think of it having shoulders, since the structural bones were absent. I knew Jarret would be back tonight to pick it up. I hoped he would not mind that the remaining... scraps were also his to deal with. I had neither the time nor the heart to dispose of them.