FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

I stood outside the hotel, unsure whether I wanted to venture in or not. Normally I didn't go in for the online hookups, especially having one or two friends with benefits around, but every now and then everyone else has gone to bed and it's 2 am and you're lying in bed with a boner and figure it can't hurt to take a look and see what's on offer.

And most days it doesn't come to anything because all the ads up are from married men twice your age, or the "no fats, no fems" all-abs type, or kids that are probably not _actually_18 and probably are cops on top of that. Headaches you don't need.

Once in a blue moon, though...

Well, tonight I was paging through a sea of blow-n-gos and unattainable dick pics and ran across one that said:

Stop. Look. Obey.

I stopped and I looked.

There was no picture on the ad. It wasn't a wall of text either.

You will serve me tonight. Begin by sending an image you think will please me. If I choose you, you will be sent an address. No questions answered.

The stats bar described him as a rat, about 35, 6'6", 500# and stout - a big fellah, to be sure.

_May as well give it a shot,_I thought. I sent a picture I'd taken that weekend, of myself bent over the bed, tail up, showing my rump and balls. I thought it was pretty flattering, showing off my colors - black in general, two white stripes going halfway down my back and along the upper side of my tail, and coffee-colored fur between my stripes and at my tailtip.

Having black fur all over is usually bad for showing off details in pics, but I'd bought a _good_camera a while back and made sure to have decent lighting, so you could see all my curves.

The rat hadn't commanded anything besides the picture, so it was all I sent.

It was probably 2:30 already and I was half dozing off when I heard the beep of new email, and I rolled over to see a message from "R." with an address at the hotel a couple blocks down.

"You have fifteen minutes," he'd written.

Well, I thought. Time to get lucky.

I scrambled into something presentable and stepped out. It was a nice night, and it was a decent enough neighborhood that I wasn't worried about walking alone even at 2:30 in the morning.

Now, I'd forgotten how nice this hotel was. Usually, you know, it's the cheap motel a guy springs for so he can host without worrying about his roommate coming home. This guy must have been on legitimate business to be set up here.

Still, it was kind of intimidating. It'd only been about five minutes since I left home - plenty of time to turn back and say I couldn't make it.

I have fifteen minutes, I thought. That means I'd better get moving. My feet carried me in through the big revolving door and past the lobby to the elevators before I could think about where the sudden resolution had come from.

I pressed the gilded call button and felt my bone rising in anticipation. Fortunately no one was on the elevator when it hit the lobby level to see me tenting; I waddled inside and hit the button for the sixth floor before anyone could show up.

Of course the place was really pretty deserted - anyone who could afford to stay here could afford to sleep in. I couldn't help stroking myself as I ascended; just the thought of the big rat who'd chosen me was affecting me more than such things normally would have.

That probably should have been my second hint.

Room 615 was not a long way from the elevator; I had more than five minutes to spare as I stood at the door, shorts damp with pre, and raising my paw to knock.

Seeing the stats in his profile did not prepare me for the sight of the creature before me. R. was tall enough that I would probably have trouble reaching his ears from the ground. He had to be at least twice as wide as me, and his tail snaked out a good ways behind him, probably as thick as my thigh.

He was dressed in a dark suit with a gray tie, the ensemble tight on his body and highlighting the curve of his belly, the arms bulging with what could be muscles, and the bulge at his crotch massive.

"Come in," he said. The voice was deep and masculine and sounded faintly Australian.

I came in, following that thick tail and being careful not to tread on it.

My host sat himself on the bed, leaning back against the headboard. I would have loved to bury my face in those footpaws, seeing them spread out in front of me, but somehow I really couldn't move myself to do so.

"You will find it easy to carry out my orders," he said, "and difficult to do anything else."

It was a voice you could definitely get lost in.

I knew it already owned me.

"Strip for me," he said.

I pulled off my shirt, slowly, teasingly, and tossed it aside, turning to show off my stripes.

He undid his belt and undid the button, a paw reaching in under his belly to adjust himself.

I pulled down my shorts over my tail, rump out, to make sure he got the best possible show.

I heard the zipper slide down; it seemed to take a long time, as my sport briefs joined my shorts in a heap on the ground.

I turned back towards him to show my modest length, and was presented with the sight of his piece.

To call it a monster would be doing it a disservice. Real monsters may be big and liable to tear you apart, but they're also misshapen and ugly. So yes, he was an honest nine inches - which sounds small if you're used to porn; trust me, it's huge enough - but it was a majestic creature, ramrod-straight, with a perfect enormous mushroom head. There had to be at least a quarter inch of space under that canopy for an exploring tongue to slide along, though of course without being ordered to, I could do nothing but stand there, mouth watering, as I saw a bead of pre collecting at the tip.

"You probably believe you have limits. They are unimportant. You probably believe that hypnosis cannot persuade you to do anything you would not normally - or secretly - wish to. If that is true, then this is not hypnosis. You are here for my service, and your own will will not intrude."

He did not ask me if I understood. It would be impossible for me not to understand; that voice, so simple yet intense, entwined itself around all my thoughts, wrapping them up and storing them away on the off chance they might be needed again.

He slid his tail between my legs, and pressing under my tail pushed me forward, tumbling me over the edge of the bed and headfirst into the bulge that was his hefty nutsack.

He grunted a bit and reached into his pants, fishing out that massive pair with one paw and burying my face in his musky scrotefur with the other. "Eager for it, eh? Quite right. Take it in - a man's scent, a cultivated scent. Not the crude stink your kind is born with and takes for granted. Appreciate it."

The smell of his musk was not the overpowering smell of the unwashed; it was subtle, like the tone of his voice, and nuanced - the smell of a male rat, the smell of arousal, the smell of sweat, the smell of cum, the smell of piss, the smell of doubtless many others who had served him, all mingled together in muted tones, an aroma to treasure, buried secretly under the curve of that gut.

I inhaled deeply, several times, and let the rat's aroma fill my lungs. It was so entrancing that I didn't even notice when he pushed his cock down, sliding its thick head into my muzzle. It was only natural that I should suck - that I should serve - that I should inhale the essence of my newfound Master.

And my lips closed around the rim of that delicious mushroom, my tongue exploring every curve of the thick and massive shaft as his paw on my head pulled me up and down the length of his cock, using me as his toy.

"It's a shame I don't have time to let you finish," he said, pulling his cock from my throat where he'd held it for at least the past minute. He slipped out of his trousers and slid forward, laying out on his back with those big furry legs in the air.

I inhaled deeply as he pushed my head down under his balls. And my nose burrowed under that big hanging sack, pressing against the soft ring of flesh under his tail, where the intensity of his smell reached its peak.

"Taste it," he said. "It's what you're destined for."

I felt like I should be struggling, but why would I want to do that? Serving was so much more my place. My tongue slid out, slick along his entrance, and the earthy flavor of his tailhole filled my muzzle.

"More," said the rat, shivering a little. "Deeper. Eat out that hole like a good toilet slave."

Something about that didn't sound right, but then what would I know? I'm just a toilet slave. I plunged my muzzle deep into the rat's hole, feeling it stretch tight over me, and my tongue probed out, cleaning his inner walls.

Chew and swallow, chew and swallow. Was this supposed to taste good? I couldn't even tell, really - I decided I needed a bigger sample. I pressed my head in further, feeling his hole open up wider to take me, and I sank deeper into the dark, dirty hole.

My nose smushed into what felt like a big wall of scat. The stink of it filled my nostrils, and I breathed it in before opening my jaws as wide open as I could in the confined space, and started chowing down on the big turd. I could feel my Master squirming around me, and I imagined how awesome it must feel for him to have a devoted slave toilet at work deep inside his bowels.

I swallowed as much as I could, and felt my stomach churning a little. Must still be hungry, I thought, and pushed my way in deeper, or at least as much as I could before my shoulders were pressed against the rat's thighs.

His hole was tight around my neck now. I pushed as hard as I could, but I couldn't get any further in. He must have noticed my struggling, though, as after a moment that thick tail had wrapped its way around my torso and he was pulling me in hard.

You know how when you're pretty tight, people tell you to push, so you can take more in? I could tell he was doing that now - not from any progress made, but from the rush of shit that splashed my face as he did, filling my muzzle.

I was so engrossed in this flood of good fortune as I sank in deeper. The rat's hole stretched to take my shoulders, and then my belly, and I was just savoring every mouthful of the rat's assload as he fed me constantly, the steady surge of shit staining my muzzle and sticking between my teeth as I worked to swallow it all down.

I could feel the rat's paws through his layers of flab as he stroked his belly, and I felt myself relax as my paws disappeared under his sack, leaving nothing of me behind save for a pile of clothes on the ground and a hefty bulge in the rat's gut.

I felt the tension of his muscles around me, telling me he was jerking off.

I was starting to feel weak from the lack of air, but I made sure my Master could feel my tongue scouring his insides clean as the urge to sleep took over, and as I passed out I felt that tunnel tighten around me with the force of his orgasm.

The big rat panted hard as he recovered from his exertion, watching the sun come up through the window that constituted the eastern wall of the room. His tail reached out and grabbed a large plug from his luggage, and secured it tightly in place under his tail so as not to lose his new prize. He struggled to get back into his pants and button his shirt, gave up, and changed into his backup suit, which was several sizes larger. After a quick brushdown to make sure every hair was in place, he waddled down to his morning meeting.