FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

I felt that rush of paranoia as my mom handed me the clipboard. On it was a few sheets of paper I had to fill out. You know what I'm talking about. The one that asks you check off rather or not you've been "sexually active" or if you've though of offing yourself or to my biggest surprise, "recent confusion of sexuality." If the room wasn't freezing I'd swear you would see a bead of sweat fall from my face as I skimmed the dreaded paper. Undoubtedly the worst part of the visit to the pediatrician's office. I sneak a quick glance at my mom as inconspicuously as I can.

My mother was both a creature to fear and be in awe of. According to my friends, my mom is quite the cougar, both in the milf sense, and the fact that she actually is a cougar. Her body was curvy, filling out the white dress she put on for the party she was going to after seeing that the doctor called me in (I assume its because she wanted to make sure I didn't skip out or something. Moms are weird.) The dress complemented her tan fur and the black corners of her mouth. I wouldn't call my mom drop dead gorgeous, since I am her son and, like most normal people I assume, I don't have some complex that makes me want to bang her, but I can't deny that she was and probably is quite the looker.

I look back at the clip board, specifically the metal clamp at the top. I can see my reflection watching back, reminding me how out of place I am. Unlike my mother, with her pristine, perfect tan fur, I'm left with an ugly off white fur, with a few blotches that are mostly covered by my clothing. I leave this trait to my dad, who is a white leopard. It kind of really sucks, because not only is the fur ugly in general, and hardly matches the way my cougar body looks, but the splotches are also rather embarrassing. I'd rather not tell you about unless I have to, which will probably be soon considering I have to get my 16th year checkup.

I sigh and look back at the paper. "God, why do they even give these papers to sign? Do they honestly expect me sign half of this stuff when my mom is gonna see it?" I remark, as I knock off a few of the simple ones.

Do you drive? No

Do you exercise regularly? I guess

Do you eat right? Yup

Do you have STD's? Last time I checked, nope.

Do you do drink? Nope

Do you do drugs? Well, there was that one time at bandcam- No.

Are you sexually active? If so, are you using a condom? Of fucking course no-

"If it bothers you, I won't look at it. They don't have to tell me this stuff unless it immediately affects you." My mom replies to me as I check off another box. My paw stops. Now I'm sure I'm breaking into a cold sweat. I don't know why, but this sudden feeling of suspicious freedom came over me. I can actually write the truth here and my mom would likely never see it? My eyes crawl across the black ink lines until I see the last few questions on the page. I've always thought of these as the hard hitters, the ones that even though you may actually do the things it says, you'll still put down no, no matter how hard it may be to not jot down yes. My eyes scan over the lines.

Are you sexually active? No, I'm not, and it sucks you have to remind me.

Are you Depressed? ... Yeah, I am.

Have you thought of killing yourself, or inflicting harm on yourself or others? ... Yes.

Are you unsure of your sexuality? ...

Oh god, what am I doing. If you asked me why, I wouldn't be sure how to answer. Why would I answer it? Maybe I'm hoping my mom really does see it, and it would force a confrontation or something, and then I could finally have a reason to choose a side. Maybe I was feeling rebellious, and anything that went against the conservative thoughts of those superior to I was worth doing. Or I could have just been tired of tricking myself into to thinking I was something I wasn't.

Are you unsure of your sexuality? ... Yes.

And the deed was done. I flipped back to the front of the packet, and just sat it in my lap for a moment. "If you're done, just go up and give it to the receptionist." Chimed my mother, pointing to the lynx at the front desk. I swallowed, hoping that the gulp was only audible to my own ears. I made the great journey from my seat to the desk, my feet feeling like cinderblocks as I trudged across the recently cleaned linoleum floors. I held out the clipboard. "Thank you sir." She said, taking the board and my fate into her hands. As I sat back down, I only had a moments rest. "Lucas Chatler? You're ready to come in." came a nurse from the entrance to the checkup rooms.

As I got up, my mom taped me on the shoulder. "Alright, you know to go straight home after your appointment. I'm going to your fathers charity event, so I won't be back to pick you up. You sure you can walk home by yourself?" My mother asked, trying to get the fur behind my ears to stop from sticking every which way. I nodded. "I'll be fine mom. The school is farther than here, and I walk home from there. Don't worry." My words must have calmed her, as she let herself relax a bit. She hugged me, and I hugged back, releasing as she made her way out the exit, and I to where the nurse was waiting.

The nurse ushered me into what was once probably a small closet, now fitted with a giant ruler attached to the wall, a scale, and an arm pressure thingy. You know the things that you wrap around your arm and then pump full of air to get your blood pressure? I think they're called sphygmomanometers or something; one of my friends has a freaking encyclopedia of knowledge about useless shit like that and quite the motor mouth. Anyways, I take off my shoes and go through the basic routine. 5'5, 150 pounds, and average blood pressure. During this process, I look over at a mirror on the opposite wall. I guess I take after my mom when it comes to my body. For a guy, I have slightly thicker hips than most boys, which I both loath and secretly enjoy. My ass is a tad plump too. My figure is rather feminine, having more curves than muscle.

I'm then lead out into the halls, brightly colored and adorned with hundreds of drawings by a multitude of armature artist, most of which I doubt are older than 20. The nurse, a petite ewe, gestures to one of the doors in the back. "The doctor will be here in a moment. Just take a seat." She states. I thank her and sit down; flyers for children's health, portraits of various sports players, and a board with drawings from other kids tacked clutter the walls of the small room. As the door closes, I'm encased in a deathly silence. I almost wish there was clock or something, the absence of even the slightest tick tick tick almost maddening.

I lay down on the bed-esque counter in the corner opposite the doctors table. The cushion is too thin to be comfy, and the lack of a pillow adding to the discomfort. I look up into the single brightly lit bulb at the center of the ceiling. My whole world, in that instant, is centered on it. I feel the blood even out across my body. I feel air flow in and out of my nostrils with every breath. I trace the spots that race across my sight, and track the particles floating in the space of the room. My whiskers twitch as dust rests upo-

The door opens with the sounds of fireworks, jerking me from my own little singularity. I lift myself upwards and rest on my elbows before sitting down. I feel that sweat from before start to reform. This wasn't the doctor I normally had. Oh no, he was nothing like my normal doctor. Dr. Sigrri was a small unassuming roo. This doctor- no, MAN- was a hulking Croc. When his parents told him to eat his vegetables, this fucker must have eaten the whole rain forest.

The green scaled Adonis stood likely two or three heads above me, every muscle bulging under the white coat and scrubs. His angled snout is rigid and stern, but his smile and eyes underlined a strange warmth and approachability. His smile moved, mouth opening. He places a clipboard on the desk. He holds out his hands. Oh god, I missed something.

"uh, what?" I mumble. His lips tweak into a smirk. "I said hello. My names Siegfried Donel." His hand is still held up to me. I hesitate for a brief moment before taking his hand. His grip is firm. "I'm Lucas." My palms grow clammy and I hope to god he doesn't notice my hands shaking. He releases his grasp, and sits down across from me on a rolling chair. He picks up the board. "So, 16 years old. You drive?" He asks me, his deep voice practically vibrates the room. "Uh, no not yet."

"Plan on getting your license anytime soon?"

"Not really. I'm kind of nervous about driving."

"Alright, do you take the bus to school?"

"My mom drops me off."

"That's nice. What school do you go to?"

"High Creak."

"Hmm. Hear that's a good school. You're in 11th grade now, correct?"

"Yeah, Junior year."

"Excited about almost being a senior?"

"A little, yeah."

He leans back and scratches his neck as he eyes the board. I feel my fur start to rise as it finally dawns on me that paper I filled out is on there. "Do you exercise?" He questions.

"Sometimes, I walk home from school, so I do that."

"Do you know how far away your house is?"

"Not sure; maybe 2 miles?"

"Alright. Anything else?"

"I ride my bike. I do some swimming too."

"Good, good. What about your diet? Are you eating healthy?"

"Yeah, I think so."

"Staying away from fast food?"

"Yup."

"Good. How about your sleep schedule?"

"It could be better, I guess."

"How so? How late are you getting to bed?"

"Eh, around 10 or 12. I should probably sleep earlier, right?"

"It would be wise, yes. Why do you stay up so late?"

"Well, I sometimes do homework. Mostly spend a lot of time on the internet though."

"Okay." He leans forward again and gets up. He pulls the stethoscope from around his shoulders and adjusts it around his head. "Well then, lift up your shirt and lie down please." He orders, motioning me to lie down. I lay down flat, and as I reach for the bottom of my shirt, I get that feeling. You know the one, the feeling where you're about to pop one for no god damned reason. It's so fucking awkward I have no clue as to why my dick would want to get up now. My mind begins its epic internal struggle to keep from rising. I feel it start to half way harden, not yet rising, but still enough that it's more solid than flaccid. I slowly pull up my shirt, begging that whatever higher power will show me mercy.

I'm almost certain he notices; I swear his eyes darted over to my crotch, as his lips slightly curl up. I hear a rumble rise up through his chest. He rests the flat end of the stethoscope to my chest, the pearl white of the plastic painfully highlighted by my ugly of white fur. "Deep breaths." He commands. I start inhaling. Exhaling. Inhale again, exhale again. Repeat. As my chest and stomach rise and fall, he moves the diaphragm around my body, the cool feeling of it sliding against my skin both slightly soothing, and a little ticklish. I stop myself from squirming too much. I stare up at his face, which, may not have been the best thing to do in my current situation.

His face really was handsome. While aged, his scales still shone, and it was obvious that even though his looks weren't the most important thing, he still maintained himself. He seemed concentrated on listening, his brow slightly focused downwards, eyes tracing the lies of my body and trailing the chest piece as he moved it. Speaking of his eyes, they eyes were a very intimidating amber, strong enough so that if you looked too long, you'd be trapped in his gaze for centuries. His pupils shift a bit, like he can feel my gaze on him. He brings his eyes up to my face, his face brightening up a bit. Shit I'm going to get a boner. "So, have many friends?"

I take a moment. "A few. I don't have a lot, but the ones I have are really good friends." I reply. He nods. "That's good. When I was growing up, I didn't have many friends either. Was a bit of a lone back then." He tells me, reminiscing about his childhood. "So how about a girlfriend?" He inquires. Fuck. I've been dreading this. On the flipside, my dick finally got the message and calmed the hell down. I stammer, "N-not right now." I feel myself blushing, quite apparent with my light fur. "Well that's fine. Kids your age shouldn't' have to worry about stuff like that. Mind if I asked why, though?"

On the outside, I was still rather calm, only hints of nervous were showing through. On the inside, wel- FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK ABORT THE MISSION, I REPEAT, ABORT THE MISSION HE FUCKING KNOWS YOU FAGGOT! I put an almost visible effort to keep a straight face. "I don't know. I sort of just want to focus on my work I guess. Having a girlfriend sounds like hard work, and I guess I just haven't found the right person yet." I hope he takes my bluff. He looks me over, the feeling of him judging me washes over my body. I realize that he's been running the stethoscope along my torso for quite a while now.

Finally, he lifts his hands from me. "Those are good reasons to not start a relationship. Best to focus on your schoolwork." He agrees. "Sit up now." He adds. I lean up, and pull my shirt back over myself. "Stand up and turn around. Take off your shirt too, please." I do as I'm told, feeling a bit silly since I had just put it back on. I stand in the middle of the room, my back facing the doctor, my shirt off, and the ghost of an erection in my pants. I feel him press the stethoscope to my back, and he instructs me to continue breathing. The air is thick with awkward nervousness. I beg whatever god to deliver me from this silent torture. I hear him clear his throat, his thick chest and neck sending a rumbling through the room, shaking my core. Oh god please don't ask.

"Sorry if that was a bit awkward. I was just curious. On the paper you filled out, you happened to choose a few things, and I thought that they could have been related." He said. Fuck. Me. He continues, "You said yes to feeling depressed, and to being suicidal for that matter. I wouldn't want a nice young man like you to do something horrible, so I thought I could lend some guidance. If you ever need help, you can always come talk to me." He lets out. Oh? Well, I guess that makes sense. I can't help but feel a bit weird now, considering how I feared he thought I was gay. "Turn around now."

I face him. We look at each other for a moment, before he looks down, and then back up to me. "Now, you're going to have to undress for this." He tells me. Oh god, is he going to have to touch my junk? Nervous, I start to unbutton my pants, doing it a bit slower than what would be reasonable. As I slide them down, I turn a bit away from him. I can feel his gaze burning into me. As I reach my thumbs under the waist band of my boxers, I curse silently. I feel myself getting hard again. You know, sometimes your dick can be a real dick.

I step out of my boxers and stand timidly in front of the attractive doctor. I avoid eye contact, hoping this will help deter my hard on. "Okay, stand up straight." He directs as I display myself to him. He leans down, and takes my right shoulder in his hand, the other heading down south. I tense. Oh god here it comes. I look into his eyes and I'm surprised to see his fixed on mine. The amber gaze envelopes me. I can't hold back. I feel a surge in my loins as it shoots to full mast. His hand brushes against the inside of my thighs as my penis hits his wrist. He breaks the lock on our eyes as he looks down. Oh no no no no no no no.

We both freeze. I'm stuck in a tense arch, almost jutting my crotch out into him. He's bent over, hand griping my shoulder, face inches from mine and his other hand is now stuck against my upper thigh. His face is so close, I can smell his breath washing over me. The heavy scent of coffee and unadulterated manly musk fills my senses. His eyes are still on my modest 5 inches. Seconds pass, but they feel like hours. Suddenly, he moves the hand at my lower section away, accidently rubbing against my cock. I moan like a bitch. His face shoots up, a shocked expression on his face. I feel him tugging his arm gently away. Tugging?

I look down and see that as he was pulling away, I wrapped my hands around his arm, unknowingly trying to bring him back to my nethers. I suddenly become hyper aware of how close we've gotten to each other, and how I've also had been holding my breath this whole time. I take in a shaky breath, taking in some of his. His face is so close to mine. I tear my view from his arm to his face, a look of concern and worry and confusion is unmistakable. He sighs. "There was another reason why I was asking about the causes of you depression." Here it comes. I brace myself for impact, my maleness showing no sign of softening.

"Lucas... Do you like boys?" As the words leak from his mouth, it feels like a hammer just went to town on my stomach. I feel a bit woozy, which causes me to start leaning on him a bit, gripping him harder. My voice catches in my throat, the air suddenly stale and muggy. Time slows down as I feel the answer rising from inside of me. There is no turning back. Weakly, I mumble, "Y-yes."

I hear him exhale, and my body suddenly releases some of its tension. He closes his eyes for a moment, gathering his thoughts. His face is still so close to mine. Not to mention he is just so handsome. His lips are so inviting. I let myself relax, leaning closer to him. I close my eyes. Years pass in those short few moments. His warm breath crashes into me, easing me out of my trance. Our muzzles are almost touching. His eyes are wide as he pieces it tougher. I blush, red showing through my fur like police lights. His mouth opens to say something and I black out.

When the world comes back, my eyes are far closer to his which are wider than what I assumed possible. I can see the detail in his iris, his pupils dilating. I wonder how I got so close to his as I realize the taste of coffee in my mouth. My body had been moving on its own, my tongue now exploring his mouth, trying to entice his tongue follow suit. I graze the tip against his sharp teeth, caress his long, strong muscle with my own, and taste every part as I can; the undeniable taste of man rich and thick in his salvia.

In his shock, he must have forgotten to keep his arm away, because I now had his arm groping my crotch like a horney bitch. I moaned into his mouth as I used his hands to rub my shaft and balls. Finally, my moaning pulls him out of his trance. He pushes me slightly, just enough so that our mouths release each other. We're both panting. He takes a few breaths to steady himself. As he gathers his composure, I look down out his hand only to be stopped by his own trousers. A very visible and large bugle is straining against his pants. "This is..." he whispers, "a quite serious situation we're in."

I nod, eyes glued to his twitching bulge. He takes another breath before continuing. "I apologize for not being more professional. As the adult, I should have made sure that it never got close to how far it is now." I feel myself dripping on his hand. I need him so bad. I wrap his fist around my cock, starting to thrust into it. Oh god it feels so good, his scales grinding against my flesh in a way I've never felt before. His words start to fumble as I get closer. "If you would please let go of my hand" I'm no longer listening. I start to jack hammer into his fist, my hips becoming a blur as my barbs catch on his scales.

"Please let go!" I can't help myself I'm so close.

"Lucas!" Oh god I'm going to cum, he feels so good.

"Stop it Lucas!" The smell of musk filling the room is intoxicating.

"Please!" Just. A. Few. More. Seconds.

"LUCAS STOP!"

My mind cracks. My moans turn to cries of pleasure as my balls jump. I feel my seed rush through my rod, my barbs flaring as the first spurts fly out. The world is silent besides my own voice; the sound of my cum landing on the ground and Siegfried's hand. I give a couple more thrusts as I bury his hand to the hilt, mashing my sheath into his large sturdy hand. I cum harder than I've ever had before, a few shots hitting my chin and chest, some flying up onto the doctors shoulders and face.

Minutes pass as I gasp and moan, my load dumping out of me and pooling in his hands. My eyes have been shut tight, but as the afterglow sets in I allow them to open. I instantly regret it. Siegfried's face is mortified, mouth open slightly in shock, eyes the size of the moon. I slowly come down from the high and quickly let go of his arm. His hand is still wrapped tight around my cock. He was frozen. I try to pull his hand off, sliding it up my rod causing another moan to escape my lips, his hand coating itself and my cock in my fluids.

Once he's off of me, I wrench myself out of his grip. I'm nausea with guilt. "I'm... I'm so sorry." I breath. He's still frozen. "Doctor?" I whisper. His eyes are freed from the thousand yard stare he had moments ago. His body moves a bit, and he looks at me. We stand there, looking at each other. "I think... I think you should leave." He advises. I nod, suddenly overwhelmed with this guilt and regret weighing down my body. I get my clothes on as fast as I can, ignoring the slimy stickiness of my semen.

As I finish dressing I head for the door. The doctor hasn't moved. His back is still to me. As I open the door, I take one last look back. "I'm sorry." I say, as I flee from the room, the door shutting with a loud thump behind me. I race through the halls, slowing down as I reach the front area. As I pass the door, I see a mom and a young cub in the waiting room. The lynx at the front waves to me, and I wave back. As I push out of the door, I notice the mom take a few sniffs, and I hope to god she doesn't realize what it is.

Outside, I'm on the verge of tears. Why the fuck did I do that? I'm so stupid. Jesus this is bad. I smack myself in the head as I cross the parking lot to the sidewalk. I make my way back home, silently hating myself with every step. The worst part of it was that I forced him. I hurt him. It wasn't his fault. I couldn't even begin to imagine what he must be going through. And the worst part about it... Was that I wanted more.

If only I knew that back in the room, The large doctor still stood in the room. He looked at the mess the boy made. He'd have to clean this up quick, before any nurses arrived. He'd also have to take care of the "little" problem in his scrubs. He locked the door, and sat down in the chair, slipping his cock out from under the waist band. As he began masturbating, he realized that he was using the boy's ejaculation as lube. What the fuck have I gotten myself into thought the doctor. The room was now filled with male musk, the unmistakable smell of sex permeating every square inch. He'd have to freshen up this whole room later. He felt the spurt from the boy that landed on his face begin to slide down over his lips. By instinct, he swiped his tongue over the fluid. The salty sweet taste wasn't all that bad, he thought, as he lapped up more. He began to crave it, licking the hand covered in the stuff as his other began to fly faster over his own cock. As he came close, he bent himself over, the tips of his mouth coming to the head of his member. He groaned as he climaxed, firing his load deep into his throat.

He swallowed his cum. After he finished, he rubbed the last of the fluid out of his penis, scooping up the remains in his hands and inserting it into his mouth to lick clean. This was quite the predicament the good doctor had wrapped himself into. Later he'd fear for his job, fear for his life as a free man. Later he would cry as he tries to desperately wash away the sin he had committed. Later he would to find a way to find forgiveness from the child he wronged. But for now, the doctor embraced the feeling of his afterglow, letting himself drown in the maddening silence of the room. Siegfried had a big mess on his hands, and he thought it be better to deal with the immediate, and later focus on the rest. Rising from his seat, he grabbed a few tissues and cleaning supplies from the cabinets and began wiping away the current reminder of the deed he committed.