FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

Jeff flicked the key in the ignition into the "Off" position just as he pulled beside the rather nondescript building. Apart from the single florescent light over the lone entrance on the side of the building, it seemed like just another building in the middle of the city. However, the horse knew otherwise, assisted with the address listed on the screen of his smartphone next to the picture of the blue and white fox on the screen. The sun had already set and time was quickly running out, but this was his best lead so far. His next target was clearly a little more elusive and difficult to track down despite his notoriety.

With toolbox in hand, he knocked at the door, waiting in the cool evening for it to open. After waiting for a few more minutes with barely a peep, he knocked again. He reasoned that they were probably busy inside, but his patience was beginning to run thin. By the third round of knocking, he was preparing to turn tail when the door finally flew open. The haphazard looking rat was sweaty, shirt crumpled, and pants stained with what seemed to be a bucket of paint.

"Thank goodness!" he exclaimed. "You the handyman?"

Jeff hesitated, knowing that his intentions were to fake a call out to the repairer and waltz right on in. However, by the looks of it, it seemed like his bluff turned out to be a happy coincidence.

"Yeah," the horse replied. "Was on my way home when I got a call."

"Come, come, come! Quick!"

The rat grabbed his arm and pulled him in, ushering him through a maze of white corridors. He was in such a hurry that the horse had to jog to keep up with him, not an easy feat with a toolbox that tugged at his arm constantly. Eventually, he was led onto what he could only describe as an elaborate movie set. Cameras and lights were scattered throughout the stage, and the atmosphere was buzzing with activity.

Whatever they were filming, it had to be some bedroom scene. Then again, Blue Ribbon Studios almost exclusively featured bedroom scenes of all manners, themes, and kinks. This was no exception, and it looked as though they were shooting a series of their very popular "Dommy Fox" set of films. However, the angry shouts coming from the centre of the set as well as the lack of any of those moviemaking activity from all those behind-the-scenes movie clips meant that something had stalled the shoot.

"It's only a bloody chair!" said an exasperated German shepherd.

"A bloody chair?" screeched the blue and white fox. "A BLOODY CHAIR?! It's my "BLOODY CHAIR", you stinkin' dog! You know who I am, you stupid puppy? HUSHER THE GUSHER, THAT'S WHO! You think your puny ass can pay for that with your kibble salary?"

"Why you..." growled the canine.

"Enough!" barked the Doberman, clearly in charge of the operation with his air of authority. "Take five, everyone! It looks like the carpenter is here, so we'll..."

Jeff suddenly felt the sympathetic gaze of every worker in the room rest on him, the pace in his steps slowing as the crowd parted to give him passage. The star of the entire commotion, Husher the Gusher, looked fuming mad in his actor's chair clad only in a bathrobe. Whatever scene they were working on had come to a complete halt, the other actors lounging noticeably away from the commotion. He took a quick glance, but saw nothing that was broken or damaged.

"Whatever," sneered the fox as he leapt out of his chair, making for the exit. "I'm going to get away from you bitches and get a latte. If it isn't fixed by then, you'll be hearing from my agent!"

His voice trailed off, punctuated with the slam of a door. A collective sigh spread throughout the room, the Doberman rubbing his strained brow with his hands as he began barking out orders to the rest of the filming crew to tidy up the set. Judging from the worn look and the permanent crease on his muzzle, he probably had to tolerate quite a fair bit of this from his golden goose. The rat who had led him in began to gesture wildly at him, starting his frantic pace in another direction.

"Come on! We've only got half-an-hour before he gets back!"

The horse trundled through the set, cutting through the backstage to find himself meandering through the various dressing rooms. For a pornography studio, the air was remarkable fresh, although the constant sting of chlorine seemed to permeate from every surface. It probably came with the job, but it also stirred up plenty of assumptions, especially the question if it was even chlorine at all.

He knew they had reached his room when the gold-framed doorway came into view. A self-portrait of the arctic fox sucking himself off that was pasted on the door also gave it away, along with the fox's namesake in big, bold font.

"He this difficult to work with?" Jeff asked.

"You have no idea!" lamented the rat. "I mean, don't get me wrong. He's a great actor, but he's got an ego the size of his prick. 'Where's my bottled water, Francis? Get your paws off my Chanel! Where's my Mochachino?'"

The horse could barely contain a laugh at the similarity of the rat's faked screeching and what he had heard earlier. Stepping into the fox's room reaffirmed what he thought of the fox. The walls had some sort of soft fabric padded with what felt like very soft downing. The lights were comfortably dim, and the air scented with branded cologne. The fit and finish of the room could only be described as decadent, something the other actors would probably not have.

"He's a little diva, isn't he?" Jeff remarked as he set his toolbox down.

"You tell me," sighed the rat. "Here's the problem."

The chair sat in the middle of the room with a full heigh mirror in front of it. The wood was immensely well-cared for even though one look told him that it was an old chair. With all the ornate trimmings and the very plush cushions that was piled in it, it looked very much like a mini-throne. After giving a quick once over, he noticed that one of the horizontal supports spanning the chair's legs was crooked, almost as though someone had accidentally knocked it in with a carelessly placed foot. It gave the old chair a little character, but he could only assume that Mr. Husher did not appreciate whatever had happened.

"Duke got a bit over-excited during rehearsal," explained the rat, dropping the name of the German shepherd from earlier. "He bumped into Husher's chair and... well..."

Jeff's carpentry skills came in handy here, and he could tell that the wooden piece was simply misaligned. Old chairs like these did not use nails, their hardwood nature making them extremely sturdy. However, as things began to age and loosen, a little bump could easily knock things out-of-place. It was a simple fix, but the other didn't know that.

"I'll see what I can do."

"In any case, hurry." The rat glanced nervously at his watch. "He'll be back in twenty minutes! He doesn't like strangers in his room."

The horse nodded, and began to ruffle through his toolbox just as the rat left the room in yet another rush to some destination. If he timed things right, it could all play out into his hand. He pulled off his windbreaker and T-shirt, folding them neatly onto a small pile on the floor. He didn't want the fox to break out into a rage of fury and throw him out just like that. His physique would appeal to the small fox, especially since his movies were mostly of a Homo-erotic nature.

After messing with the ventilation controls and making sure he had himself riled up enough to have a proper bulge in his jeans, he began to fix the chair in earnest with only a few minutes left on the clock. A simple twist, a little dab of wood glue, and the chair would have been fixed. With seconds ticking away, he waited until the right moment before dabbing it on.

No more than few seconds after he had uncapped the tube of glue, the all-too familiar screeching could be heard through the crack in the door. He could hear the rat's frantic voice, attempting to buy him some precious few seconds until he could verify that his room was just as he had left it. The door flew open to the sight of the arrogant face of that arctic, now greeted to the sight of a sweaty, half-naked horse lying on his back on the floor of his room. A flash of anger crossed his muzzle, but it was replaced with distinct intrigue as he soaked in the sight, just as Jeff wanted him to.

With the rat still outside, he slammed the door shut and locked it in one swift motion, probably as a result of having to have shut it in the faces of many others.

"Well?" growled the vulpine as he set his coffee down on his table. "Is it fixed?"

The horse huffed softly as he twisted it back into place, nodding as he sat back up.

"Yeah," he answered meekly. "Sorry it took so long, sir."

He could see the twinkle in the fox's eyes, and he knew then that he had the fox in his snare. The vulpine leaned in close and right over him, his small frame almost covering the horse's torso as he inspected his work. He could feel the foot on his thigh, brushing extremely close to his denim-clad bulge.

"Not bad," he murmured, careful to gently brush his whiskers across his cheek. The arrogant prick was a pro, he had to give him that. A heartbeat later, fingers gently tilted his muzzle upwards in one sharp jerk, piercing eyes gazing into his nervously shifting eyes. "Why are you naked?"

"T... The AC was off," the horse carefully stammered. "The other guy told me not to touch anything, s... so I didn't."

The devious grin on the fox's muzzle mirrored the classic porno storyline, although it seemed like he was serious about getting off on the whole thing. Even the growing bulge in the silk boxers that the fox had worn was growing considerably bigger with each passing second. If he was getting off on the whole dominant thing, perhaps the horse could play it to his advantage.

"Oh, you're a little filly, aren't you?" Gusher taunted. The horse's cheeks flushed hotly in anger at the taunt, but ducked his muzzle nervously downwards to keep up the act.

"I... I should go," huffed the horse, not even trying to push the fox off of him. The fox reacted, pushing his entire weight down on the horse to force him onto the floor. Playing the stunned victim, the horse squealed, hitting the floor with an audible 'THUMP.'

"I don't think so," whispered the fox, his paw gently stroking across the horse's broad pectorals. "What would your boss say if he found out that you had assaulted a famous porn star, huh? Do you even know who I am, you sissy pony? Do you?"

"I..." The horse carefully began, shifting his eyes away to avoid the accusatory stare.

"You do, don't you?" Gusher grinned. "So underneath that macho stud of a body, you're a big ol' sissy fag pony mare. Figured." The fox pressed his abnormally sized bulge up into his face, to which he eyed nervously. "You see that? This is what a male should look like, not those stupid sticks you stallions call a cock!"

Indeed, as the fox flaunted his silk-clad erection, it began to poke free of the flapped front, the tip of the vulpine's cock already as thick as his finger. As the folds of silk parted, the stallion had to concede that the fox was indeed very, very well hung. It had to be as thick as the fox's forearm, and considering the porn star's lithe frame, it looked disproportionately big. Either the fox had good genes, or the vacuum pump was his next best friend.

The horse made himself look like a deer caught in the headlights, although this one had a classic canine cock staring straight at him. Even the knot was beginning to peek out, and if that were to ever end up in his rear, it would tear him to shreds. He knew he couldn't let it get that far, not with the size of that cock nor with time ticking away. He was working on a deadline, and he was intent to keep to it.

Without warning, the fox thrust his hips forward while tugging on both his ears, driving that massive tool straight into his agape muzzle. Fortunately, with his long muzzle, it meant that accommodating the unnaturally large member was fairly easy. However, the horse was careful to introduce typical novice mistakes; the occasional scrape of blunt teeth against hot flesh, mistiming his sucking, and occasionally faking a gag as the tip prodded at the back of his throat.

Still, the horse placated the irritated growls with moments of sheer delight. His tongue bathed the spurting cock with warmth, and a measured amount of suction as the fox thrust forward to create the delightful sensation of his cock being sucked into something other than a cock pump. The spurts of pre-cum on his tongue was generally tasteless, although he could taste the caffeine on it.

"Oh, you're a sweet fuck!" panted the fox, tongue lolling out as he fell deeper and deeper into his trap. "I should... UGH... keep you around more... OOOOHHHHH..."

The horse intensified his efforts, making sure to lavish that delightfully sensitive tip with attention just before it disappeared into his mouth again. With the fox sufficiently distracted, his fingers felt for the tube of glue, twisting the cap past beyond the resistance until it yielded with a tactile click. He held it up into his field of vision, just behind the thrusting fox to see the tiny needle that was now exposed on the cap.

"Gonna... oh FUCK... gonna... GONNA... I'M GONNA C-OWWW!"

The horse prodded the needle right onto the arctic fox's silk-clad bottom, throwing the porn star noticeably off his game. With his orgasm temporarily forgotten, he began to unsteadily sway on his feet before collapsing right into the horse's waiting hands.

"Wha-" slurred the fox, his arms flaying about with a distinct lack of coordination.

Jeff guided the now drugged fox onto his throne, pulling his muzzle free of the still throbbing cock once the fox was seated. Smacking his lips, he glanced at the clock, and knew he had to work quickly if he had to beat the deadline. Still, getting a little payback seemed like a fair excuse to supply to the game master in the event he was going to be late.

With the paralytic drug in full effect, he carefully positioned the fox's legs, pulling them both upwards until each leg was draped over the armrest, spreading his legs comfortably wide. A simple flex of his arms and the silk boxers yielded to his strength, the fabric tearing to reveal the massive knot and heavy eggs hanging like overripe fruit. It continued to throb to the fox's racing heartbeat, knowing that the paralytic cocktail would not affect the otherwise gorgeous erection nor any sensations being applied to it.

As the fox slumped forward, the horse could not help noticing that his muzzle was brushing against the side of the massive erection. With the idea still fresh in his head, the horse gently pulled apart the fox's jaw, revealing the row of immaculately polished teeth to the throbbing cock. The still conscious fox glanced nervously to him, before back down as the horse lowered his jaw around the immense cock. It was a tight fit, but without the presence of a gag reflex, he locked the fox's sharp teeth around that massive knot. What was left of those silk boxers were fashioned into silk bindings that kept the fox's muzzle proverbially tied to his immense knot.

"Time to pare you down to size, foxy."

Jeff reached over to his toolbox, withdrawing the surgical scalpel out of its sterile packaging. He gave the fat scrotum a good, long squeeze, knowing that the sensation of pain had not being dialled out. Rapid huffs of air breezed along his hand as he gently sliced away the scrotum with precision, the furry sac falling away to reveal his prize. He was careful to gently scrap along those dangling cords paralysed by the drug, making sure the fox would feel the pain that he had been causing to others with his oversized ego.

However, the stallion knew that he could inflict even more pain and castrate the fox with a much more diabolical move. Grasping one of the slippery orbs, he deftly twisted it in one direction, watching as the cords began to twist in and around themselves. When it the testicle began to slow, his wrist made sure it continue to dance until it could dance no more. Holding it still, he could see that neither blood nor sperm could escape yet causing immensely agony for the paralysed fox. Tears were streaking through the blue and white fur, both in pain and the inability to stop himself from watching his own castration.

His other testicle was treated in the same manner, twisted until it could not be twisted any more. As he waited for the pain to peak, he gently tugged at the strangled testicles, as if they were connected to threads of pain wired directly into the fox. It was then that he notice the thin river of prostate fluid oozing into his crotch along with the obvious sight of the fox's knot locked around those sharp fangs.

"Trying to cum, foxy?" grinned the horse, pulling sharply downwards on the pulsing testicles in his palm. "Not anymore."

Then, in the midst of the porn star's pain wracked orgasm, the cords promptly snapped free from their owner, the tension surpassing the point of no return. Even separated from their owner, they felt alive in his hand as if none the wiser that they were no longer connected. So they twitched until he dropped them into the specimen jar smuggled in with his toolbox. Licking his palm, he gently patted the fox's head as he got dressed.

Now cleaned up, he poked his head out the door only to see an empty corridor. Careful to escape the watchful eye of any of the crew, he found an unused corridor that led him back to the front door. Once back in his truck, he retrieved the specimen jar and dropped it into the Cryo-case that had been waiting patiently like a faithful partner. He was impressed that the porn star's testicles was equal in size to his first victim, and visibly dwarfed his second.

Even more importantly, however, as he completed reporting his latest acquisition, he dropped his smartphone into the arctic fox's furry scrotum, impressed that it swallowed his phone with ease.

"Told ya I'd get my phone pouch," grinned the horse, tossing his fur-clad blood-stained cum-scented device into a cubby hole before driving off into the night.