FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

Disclaimer: This story (and the ensuing ones in the series) contains adult content and should not be viewed by anyone under 18 without parental consent. And stuff. It's also my first yiffy story, so I'd love to hear what people think of it! =^^= ([email protected], in case the "email author" link doesn't work)

ANIMAL - Part 1

Alara opened her eyes and groaned. Bright sunlight blinded her, and she tried to turn her face away as a headache began to pound in her skull. But she found that her head was rendered immobile. She paused to assess her situation more carefully. Her arms were restrained painfully behind her, and by the feel of it she was tied to a wooden post, facing outwards. Her legs had been bent backwards and forced apart with her ankles tied securely to a crosspiece, leaving her feeling horribly vulnerable. Even her short, fluffy tail had been bound to the post - she was suspended above the ground, completely helpless, forced to stare upwards at the blue sky.

She next became aware of the sounds around her. Voices, hooves, coins jingling, paper rustling; this was a busy area. Her canine nose could smell the sweat of many bodies and the blood of some, too; both human and hybrid were present. Also there was the strong smell of fear. She became increasingly nervous, and began to struggle against her bonds.

"Well well, here's a new one," a growly male voice said from directly in front of her. She stiffened as she heard it, frustrated by being unable to see its owner. She disliked his tone - it was one of complete arrogance and disdain, which seemed to say "you are worthless" in every syllable.

"Not bad, not bad... maned wolf hybrid, toned form, nice tits..." Her mind reeled as she heard this. What was going on here?? It sounded almost like she was being judged... but her thoughts were cut abruptly short by a spark of outrage. He was stroking the fur on her belly, trailing a finger up to follow the smooth curve of her stomach. "Soft fur... and I like the color," he said, and she could hear the smirk. She was being judged like a decoration, like an object that tickled his fancy. His finger followed the curve of her breast, then began spiralling inwards. She growled in her throat, wriggling as much as her bonds allowed and wishing she could get at this monster. He growled back in displeasure, and suddenly tugged hard at her nipple, making her gasp and cry out in pain and further outrage.

"What's this? I thought you said these were used slaves? This one seems barely tamed..." he said to someone. A whining voice answered him, and she could hear a shuffling of paws.

"Well... actually, um, that one was, um, caught wild in the forest... no idea where she came from, I'm afraid... um..."

The first voice snorted. "Well, it doesn't take an expert to see that." Suddenly, two clawed fingers dug savagely into her pussy, taking her completely unawares. She roared and struggled wildly as they dug in, and felt the leather restraints around her face snap. Instantly she leaned forward with snapping jaws, drool flying everywhere and showering the wolf-hybrid who had removed his fingers and jumped back just in time. She bared her fangs in a snarl, panting heavily, glaring at the wolf. To her dismay, he was looking at her coolly with a cold smile on his face.

"As I thought," he said. "Completely untrainable. The wild ones always are." He turned to the hybrid beside him, who, Alara saw, was a cringing, mangy rodent of some sort. "The only place you'll sell a beast like this is down at the Whiplash." Without waiting for a reply, he turned scornfully and moved on to the next pole, which held a forlorn-looking female rabbit.

Alara shifted her yellow-eyed glare to the rodent. It waddled forward uncertainly, reaching up as if to re-fasten her head in its original position; but one snap of her jaws sent it scurrying away. She watched it run off before slumping back in her bonds to view her surroundings.

She was in what looked like the square of a marketplace. It was a large, open area surrounded by market stalls, and wooden poles were staked at regular intervals throughout it. Some held slaves, but many were empty. Some had dark bloodstains. She shuddered as she watched various humans and hybrids move around the "merchandise", prodding and stroking and probing wherever they wanted. It disgusted her.

At that moment, she heard raised voices coming from behind her, and craned her neck as far as she could to try and see what was going on. One voice she recognized - it was the wolf she had encountered earlier.

"Not you again! Didn't I teach you a harsh enough lesson last time, dog?"

The second voice was, though still male, softer, and seemed younger. "I don't care what you did then, or what you do now, I still think this is just wrong! I will not let my sister be sold this way, like a piece of meat or a woven rug!"

"Then buy her yourself, you stupid little runt! Beat my price fairly, or leave me be and accept that she is mine!"

"No! No, she is no-one's property!" The second voice sounded more desperate now - Alara almost thought she detected a hint of a sob. She pitied whoever was facing that wolf - she knew he did not stand a chance, but admired him for trying.

"For the last time, cur... out of my way! I promise you, what I did last time will be nothing to what I will do if you are still standing there in a moment!"

"NO!" The cry was a bark of anger and desperation, but it was quickly turned into a high-pitched yelp, and something crashed to the ground with a heavy thud. The wolf gave a derisive chuckle.

"Merchant rat!" He called, and the rodent dutifully scuttled over to him. Alara scorned the creature's submissive attitude. "Bring me that wild maned wolf bitch, you know, the one you're too afraid to even restrain." His voice was laden with sarcasm. "I'm in a good mood today, so I'll do you a favor and drop her off at the Whiplash for you... if you'll give me this one at a discount rate, of course." Alara felt the fear rising in her chest. She didn't know what the Whiplash was, but if this wolf was recommending it she felt sure it wouldn't be good. She assumed the "item" he was buying was the other male's sister. "I'm taking the runt there too - apparently he doesn't know how to take a hint."

She snarled at the rodent as it shuffled round in front of her, watching her carefully through runny eyes. She was preparing to rip its head off if it came too near; but to her disappointment it was not to be. Instead, it pulled a dart gun from under the tattered rag it wore in a poor semblance of clothing.

"Coward," she growled, pinning her ears back. The hybrid startled at the sound of her voice, but only twitched its whiskers in return and raised the dart gun to its crusted lips. She felt a sharp pain in her side, and then she fell into blackness.

She awoke to a splitting headache, made worse by the steady throb of music not far off. Where had she landed up now?

She sat up, and was pleasantly surprised to find herself unbound for once - not even a collar, as all the slaves she'd previously seen wore. She was naked, of course, but she'd spent enough time in the wild to get used to that, and her long fur always kept her warm. She was in darkness, but not total darkness - as her eyes adjusted to the gloom, she realized she was in come sort of cage, one of several in a row.

"You slept awhile." She spun her head around to locate the source of the voice, sending stars shooting across her visions and pain lancing through her skull.

"Don't worry. I couldn't hurt you if I wanted to." The voice sounded familiar... aha! It was the dog hybrid from the slave market, who had stood up to the wolf.

"My name's Dayne." She peered into the cage on her right, and saw a furred shape slouched against the wall. A paw was proffered through the bars, and she stared at it stupidly. Dayne laughed. "Shake it." Hesitantly, she took his paw in hers and gave it a vigorous shake. The dog laughed again, and she grinned uncertainly.

"I'm Alara. What is this place?" She could now make out Dayne's features in the dark, and saw his smile fade.

"I can't be sure, but I think it's the Whiplash. Just looking at the state of our fellow slaves here can tell you that." Alara frowned, and looked about her. Three other hybrids and one human sat in cages around the room, still and silent. The whole place smelled disgusting and reeked of fear.

"Then we're still slaves?" She asked. "Why don't we have collars?" She stared at a large, black male horse hybrid in the cage opposite hers. His whole body was laced with whip-marks and scars, and his mouth was a blood-encrusted mess. He sat curled up in a defensive ball and did not look at her.

"The Whiplash is a slave brothel," said Dayne. "But it's rather... extreme. It's the only one of its kind for miles - few people enjoy... this kind of thing," he explained awkwardly. Alara, however, had no idea what he was talking about.

"What kind of thing?" She asked insistently. Dayne sighed.

"The people who come here prefer their meat "fresh". They like to dominate their slaves to an extreme, catching and "taming" them themselves. I've never personally been here, of course," he added, "but it's got quite a reputation." At that moment, a door opened at the far end of the room, and a massive bull hybrid strode towards them. He wore a tattered loincloth and a great many black leather straps with metal studs, presumably to make him look tougher - though Alara thought nervously that they really weren't necessary. He carried a long metal pole in one hand, with a grasper at the end. The horse hybrid trembled violently at the sight of him, his hooves scraping against the stone floor as he shrank back against the wall. But the bull was not interested in him - he stopped instead at Dayne's cage.

The hybrid unhooked a ring of keys from a belt around his waist and unlocked the cage door. Dayne frantically turned his head to either side, but there was nowhere to run; before he had time to react, the bull had reached in and seized his neck in the grasper. Alara's eyes widened as she saw the dog being lifted bodily from the ground by his neck - the bull was doing it with only one arm, at the other end of a long pole, and showing no signs of strain. Dayne was desperately clawing at the pole, trying to get a grip with his paws so there would be less strain on his neck. The bull put him down again quickly though, and Alara assumed he had only done it as a show of power. Pushing Dayne in front of him on the end of the pole, he began to walk back out of the room.

"Dayne!" Alara shouted, launching herself at the bars. The dog hybrid tried to resist, tugging ineffectually at the grasper and digging his feet into the floor. Alara saw that the stones were laced with scratches. But the bull barely seemed to notice his efforts, shaking the pole violently as a reminder of who was in charge. Dayne, choking for breath, stopped struggling and allowed himself to be walked out the door, which the bull shut behind him.

Alara stared after them, ears and tail down. She hadn't known the dog for long, but she realized that already she felt attached to him - it had been a while since she had had a friend. Left alone, or as good as since the other occupants seemed to be in some sort of dejected stupor, she sank down to the floor to wonder what would happen next.