FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

"Oh, yeah," the mohawked bartender nodded, the dyed-in patterns on the equine's glossy, smooth coat gleaming in the afternoon light streaming in the front window, the fur trimmed short. "All the bar staff here is," he nodded toward the barback, another smartly-cropped fur with brightly dyed fur, wearing only his sneakers. "Better off, if you ask me," he shrugged, with just enough indifference that I couldn't tell if he was being judgemental or not. A lot of neuters were, the same as vegans, straight-edgers, and Baptists tend to be.

"Who...uh," I wasn't sure how to ask what I wanted to know. "Was it, uh..." I reached up to scratch the back of my head, trying to figure out how to end that sentence.

"There's a guy who comes in here most weeks who likes to eat punk junk," the bartender nodded with a faint smile, apparently used to the question. "He's usually in around now; hang out and you'll probably see him. Take your shirt off if you really want his attention - he likes 'em muscley."

"Yeah?" I stripped it off, carefully working the wife-beater I had on over my cherry-red mohawk-mane, and stuffed it into my shorts pocket. I was flattered he'd called me muscled. I'd filled out a lot the last year or two, so much that surfing and skating had actually gotten kind of difficult. My buds kept telling me that top-heavy guys always have a tougher time, but I'd dealt with that before - nobody had thought I'd be able to skate on hooves, either, and I'd proven them wrong there. Admittedly, the cats and ferrets usually were a lotter better than a big ol' clumsy horse like me, but I'd manage some badass tricks every now and then. Nobody could ollie it up like I could, and I still held the local record for longest successful railgrind.

"You're doin' the right thing, bud," the bartender nodded. "You'll be better off without all that."

I sure hoped so. I couldn't say why, but I couldn't stop thinking about having my cock and balls eaten off me. Almost every night I dreamt of hungry somethings biting and ripping my cock and balls off of my body with their sharpened, pointy teeth. I'd known geldings and neuters my whole life but had never wanted to be one, and still wasn't sure I really did...but I did need my junk eaten off of me. I couldn't think of anything else anymore; it had become an obsession. When I'd come to college and started hanging out at the skate park near campus I'd noticed an awful lot of neuts around, and one had told me to come to this bar around now, just like the bartender had advised.

Before I could ask anything else, the door tinkled, and I heard, of all things, my name. I turned to see Ollie, an incredibly cute fox I'd hung out with a few times down at the park. I thought he was cute as hell, and I was pretty sure he was queer, but have always been a little shy about making the moves on somebody. Any other time I'd have been happy to see him, but I sure as hell didn't want him around if I was about to get my cock and balls eaten!

"How's it goin', bro?" he greeted me enthusiastically, all hyper, as usual. "I saw you through the window - I'd recognize that mane anywhere," he grinned, his eyes glancing upward toward my mane, done up in a six-inch mohawk. "You stop in for a brew? Mind if I join you? Never been in this place before but I'm pretty thirsty," he sat down next to me at the bar. The bartender came over and set down a cocktail napkin. "Pint o' the, uh..." Ollie peered at the taps, "that Summer Rotgut." The bartender ordered and walked off to pour his beer.

Ollie glanced around at the bar while I tried to come up with a way to get rid of him. "This a queer bar? Nice," he nodded toward the barback's bare ass. "Guess they're real casual in here, huh?" he looked over my bare torso, "Well, when in Rome..." Ollie reached down and pulled his own shirt off, his fuzzy chest damp with sweat. The smell of his musk hit my nostrils, and I could feel myself hardening up a bit.

"Oh, uh..." I started to tell him he might want to leave his shirt on, but he just kept talking.

"Been skatin' all day. Hey, listen, after we down these brews, you wanna skate down to the boardwalk with me," I felt his hand on my thigh, moving toward my crotch until he gripped my package, he finished, "and hang out a little?"

"Yeah," I nodded, wide-eyed and hard-cocked, "but, uh, you..."

"Whoah, sorry bud, hold that thought real quick. I gotta piss like a racehorse. Be right back, bro," he slapped my back and trotted off to the bathroom in the back, leaving his shirt on his barstool. I watched his ass as he headed toward the back and chuckled. Maybe I could tell him to go ahead on, I'd meet him in a little bit... I looked up at the mirror behind the bar, catching sight of a feline walking in behind me.

I locked eyes with him through the mirror as he walked into the bar, able to see the predatory glint in his eyes even before he grinned to show me those perfect teeth, all sharpened to perfect points...perfect for tearing cock out, for ripping balls off. I straightened up on the barstool, puffing out my chest a little so he could see it was muscular and strong, powerful and masculine. He stopped as he passed behind me, then just tapped me lightly on the shoulder and waved at me to follow.

Entranced, I immediately got up at his touch, followed him to the back, then stood before him when he sat in a dark booth in the very back. My head hung in the dim light, my eyes glazed, my mind numb even as my heart was racing. This was it.

He stood, loosing his own cock, and held me close enough that I could feel his hard dick pressing against mine. Reaching around to my back, he gripped my shorts, then tore them off of me. I stood there, submissive, arms at my sides, and allowed myself to be stripped, first of my clothes, and soon of my gender. He ripped my briefs away like wrapping paper, took hold of my cock and balls and felt them up, feeling them for size, firmness. My cock was rock-hard already, and I could feel him getting close to it with those sharp teeth, the moistness of his breath taunting me.

He craned up to my chest, snapping off my left tit in one bite. It stung until he licked it clean, the wound sealing up, then another sting as he bit off the right tit. He moved back down to my crotch, and I could feel his hot breath on my cock again.

"Oh, hey, man, what are you doing back here?" I dimly heard Ollie from behind me, but paid it no attention. "Oh shit, you're getting head, huh..." I could see him out the corner of my eye, grabbing a rubber from the bathroom and wrapping it on his cock, but couldn't think to do anything what with my dick in this cat's mouth.

The big cat flicked my cockhead with his tongue, lightly scraped his sharp teeth against my sensitive cockhead, over the corona and down the shaft a bit, then pulled back until his teeth met the corona again. He started to bite down, slowly at first. I felt the pressure build, just behind the cockhead, and then the bright painful notes as his teeth broke the skin. His jaws closed, taking a bite, and my cockhead was gone. I tensed up, gritting my teeth, my arms locking into place at my sides as my muscles went rigid. He sucked on the end of my cock, licking up the bit of blood that spurted out, then nibbled and took another bite. An inch or so of my cockshaft went down his throat, not quite as painful this time.

"Heh, let me get in on this," Ollie said from behind me, gripping my sides, and I could feel what could only be his cock probing my ass. Instinctively, I relaxed my ass, raised my tail and spread my legs apart a bit, and felt his rubber-coated and lubed cock slide right up in me, all nice and thick and veiny. He went with a slow rythym, speeding up as I felt more of my cock disappear down the man's throat. Ollie couldn't see what the man was really doing to me down there, I could tell, he just thought I was getting head, but my brain was so frozen from the feelings of my cock being eaten that I couldn't think. "Yeah," Ollie cooed and grunted from behind.

Another bite, then another, the big cat putting his hands on my ass and pulling me into his face so he could try and get it all in, letting Ollie's thrusts from behind push my crotch further into his mouth. The feline licked at the stump, then locked his lips over it and started to suck the stump. I could feel my internal cock loosening up inside me, all the way down at the base, and sighed in relief as it peeled away from my insides, working its way out the remaining sheath and down his throat. Ollie sighed from behind me, blowing his load in my ass, but he kept his cock in there, just squishing around a little, still hard. "Ah, fuck yeah," I heard him mutter, his breath hot on my back.

The backed off just enough to lick his way down my balls, taking the bottom of my sac in hand and opening it up with one small bite. His long tongue reached up inside my sac, finding my left ball and wrapping around it, gently tugging it out of its protective sheath of muscle, skin and blood vessels, and into the hungry feline's mouth. One bite and he swallowed it whole, then onto the next. My second ball when down his throat, and then he snipped off the remaining sac, swallowing that too. He licked at the wound, his spit instantly staunching the blood flow, the skin healing itself over as he licked. I felt him grab Ollie's legs behind mine, and his breath near my ass, the motion of his goatee against my buttocks, and realized he was sucking down Ollie's balls, too!

Finally he stood and pulled me close, Ollie's cock falling out of my ass. I could feel the big cat's cock pressing against my crotch, the only thing between my legs, now, and he kissed me deeply, his tongue moving in and setting up camp in my mouth. I could taste my own maleness in his mouth, all hot, wet, and vaguely tasting of blood and batteries. With a hand on my chest, he gently pushed me away, through with me now, and sat down again.

The big cat beckoned to Ollie, and Ollie stepped up to him, his eyes glazed, his cock hard. The man pulled the rubber from the base of his cock, turning it inside out and tossing it aside, then took Ollie's cock into his mouth. I couldn't fuck Ollie, but wanted to do something for him, so knelt down behind him and spread his cheeks apart, penetrating him with my tongue instead. His ass was sweaty but clean enough, and I had him squirming as the guy ate his cock off him, then I stood behind, letting him lean back into me as the tiger bit off his tits.

He waved us away, done with us. We retrieved our keys and wallets from the tatters of our shorts, still stunned, and headed back up to where our beers were, now wearing only our sneakers. Like the bartender and barback, our pecs were smoothly curved under now, just like our crotches.

Ollie and I blinked as we walked out front, our minds slowly coming out of the sex-haze. "Wow," he said, speaking for the first time. "You know, Momma always told me I'd get in trouble if I hung out in queer bars," he winked. "Can't say I expected to get this, but...I kinda like it," he hopped up and down a little bit, enjoying the lack of anything flopping around painfully. "It sure won't hurt as much now when I bail off a rail," he winked. "And the best part - now we're both pants optional," he grinned, turning and wiggling that tight, toned ass at me. "Nuthin' to hide."

"Damn, I wanna fuck your foxy ass so bad," I said aloud, only half aware I was saying the things I was thinking out lout.

"Good, 'cuz that was the plan," he gave my empty crotch a playful pat. "Far as I understand it, we've got about three days before our libidos go", he made a thumbs up and slowly turned his hand to point it down, whistling from a high pitch to a low one, "an' I plan to use every second of it that I can fuckin'."

"Sorry about that. I didn't mean for you to..."

"Not a word, bro," he held a hand up to my mouth. "Wasn't your fault, I'm not that pissed about it, and I'm probly better off this way, too. If nuthin' else, all my neut buddies'll stop harping on me now," he chuckled. "So," he locked an arm in mine, "Let's go find us a horsey-sized strap on, shall we?"