FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

Bryce rolled the E-cigarette around in his maw, letting it hang from his lip. With a draw, it's green LED tip illuminated the darkened cockpit. "Y'know maybe we should just scrap the old bitch? I mean, shit, we found her floatin' out here. So, it's a gain in my book."

One bronze-scaled claw came out from a open Network hatch next to Bryce, and extended it's middle finger. The lights flickered and pulsed before a constant stream of light filled the ship. Bryce looked over the Navigation panels; his discerning engineer's eye checked to make sure the readouts were nominal.

"So, maybe it's not a total scrap," he glanced back down to the open Network hatch. "But if you give me that finger again, and I'll snap it off and fuck you with it."

"Should take it to your favorite whorehouse-- all the girls will think you put down cash for an enlargement surgery," Allen said, emerging ass-first from the network hatch.

Ignoring the comment about his cock, Bryce's maw split into a greedy grin. "So, we got full control or no?"

"The AI was tough to crack, had to send a fragmented mem--"

"I'm an engine junkie, not a techie," Bryce rolled his eyes, "you really gonna make me hear all this techno-shit?"

"No, but this'll make your tiny tim hard," Allen grinned, "the ships got an Alcubierre Warp Drive; the negative-mass exotic matter we need to initiate the field is also intact."

"No shit!" Bryce slapped his paw-pads together then tossed his e-cig into a nearby chair. "No more lightgate tolls for us. Time for some M.A."

"Bryce, we still need a crew who'll work for free though," Allen said as Bryce cracked open a small cooling unit, pulling out his favorite drink: beer, specifically, Martian Ale.

"We can limp this bitch back to port, and have a half dozen people lined up. Here," he handed Allen the clear unopened bottle. "Take it."

He took the beer and covertly set it on a nearby chair. "You know how I feel about drinking and piloting," he said as Bryce started chugging. "But you seem to have your alcoholism under control, I see."

"Yeah, yeah." He sat the empty glass next to the Navigation Console, typing out the Langour Station coordinates. The ship lurched to life, emerging from the asteroid field.

A loud buzz rang throughout the cockpit. "This is an illegal salvage operation! By order of the CCF, lower your shields and prepare to be boarded."

"Aw, shit," he flicked his paw across the communications panel. "I'm having trouble transmitting my permit, please hold." He flicked it off.

"Shit," Allen sat down; his bronze scales quickly losing color. "They're gonna dash RF me!"

"I don't appreciate that kinda negativity," he went over to the cooling unit. "Get the AWD online and I'll pull a quick fuck you to them, but I can only distract for so long before they fire." Pulling a beer from the unit, he turned around to see Allen's tail limply hanging from the Network hatch. He'd never understand why anyone would want to get their brains replaced with a cybernetic parts because the government owned your ass, but damn were they useful.

"Pilot, we're not sensing any transmission of any kind from you," a soft growl came from the intercom.

Bryce flicked his finger over the panel, "I need visual confirmation of your ship; I won't be handing my permit over to some fake cop."

"Fuck you, I don't need to reveal my location to you! You're in a fucking Corvette!"

"Are you some sort of rookie?" Bryce growled at him over the comm. "It's basic search protocol in international territory to obtain mutual visual verification and details transmission. When you come in, scan my ship for weapons if you're afraid of that, but 'til I see some ID and visual verification, any further demands can and will be disregarded."

"On approach, 45 45. Will be directly above you for visual verification, have your claim ready on short-wave transmission. Guns are online."

"Gotya," Bryce flicked off the comm. "Assface."

"I got it back online," Allen said, sliding back out of the Network hatch, "AI's more resistant than I thought."

"Christ, good thing this guy's a fucking moron." He flicked the comm panel back on. "So, I take it you don't know anything about Warp Drives?"

"Yeah, I do. Even if you jump-disable my ship with your warp field, I've got your target chip locked and downloaded."

"You should check our ship ID again..."

The voice paused as the console's beeps came over the line with each tap of his fingers. "Your ID's continually rotating." The Comm console beeped as the CCF Officer's voice was detected on an encrypted TF line, "Terran Command, we've got a possible Cybernetic. Please advise."

Bryce flicked over to the encrypted TF that Allen had broken into. "We've gone through this process a few times, newbie. First, you're suppose to make a call like this to Intelligence because Command will do nothing, and then Intelligence would follow our warp trail, but you see that's where I come in. We're currently in the path of another warping ship. We're gonna piggyback our warp fields which will scramble both of the paths -- as an engineer, I know that sub-liminal particle tracing has trouble with that -- and by the time you know where we're going. We're gone. Nice meeting you, and hopefully, they don't assfuck you too hard for this." He tapped the Navigation panel and the AWD started powering up. "I mean-- my dobie balls have already unloaded enough in you anyway." The ship shook violently as, like two soapbubbles floating in water, they attached and merged their warpfield with the passing ship.

"Do you have to taunt them like that?" Allen was laying down on the cool steel floor, panting. "One day, our luck will run out."

"You know, we should really have you looked at. I mean I understand the whole nervous thing, but why do you have to lay on the floor to calm yourself down?"

"Because. And, Bryce, if he had known what you were doing--"

"He'd shit himself because he'd realize I'm the real deal? Christ, Allen," Bryce stood over him, cracking his third beer. "Once we pound this ol' bitch into shape and get her fully integrated into your cybernetic system, you'll be a free man. Corvettes, even old ones like this, are like ancient Ship of the Lines and then some. We could call her, Queen Anne's Revenge."

"Did you drink on an empty stomach, again?" Allen shook his head.

"No, it's-- never mind."

"An Age of Sail frigate, ran by the infamous Blackbeard?"

"See, this is why we can't have friends. Between your image recognition and data mining algorithms, you can master anything. Admitted it, you access the Ship's Encyclopedia for that little tidbit."

"Maybe, or maybe I read that book you gave me," Allen crawled back into the Network hatch, "Think of that before you went blaming my cybernetic parts?"

"Downloading a book into memory is NOT reading it." Bryce gulped his beer, "Christ, why do you need me if you can store so much data."

"I don't. I keep you around for your sunny disposition, your need to torture me, and your constant alcoholism. 3 beers, Fifteen minutes." Allen flicked his tail, "I can't even drink water that quickly without getting sick."

"You're just mad because you can't get drunk," Bryce walked over to the Navigation panel as they fell out of warp, and clicked a few buttons to set them on course for Langour station. "or laid." He added.

"I choose not to." Allen snapped, "I'm going in."

"Go get dash RF'd..." He snapped back.

"Fuck you, Bryce." His body went limp.

Bryce surveyed the ship one last time, noticing Allen's unopened beer getting warm. Finishing his own, he opened Allen's.

***

Bryce was out of the ship, and cruising along the metal sidewalk of the station in his loose leather jacket. It was midday, UST time, and people were out bustling. Whores shaking their tits at anyone passing by, scammers, swindlers and a few rare store owners calling out for attention, and little street bastards that'd pick your pockets for your last cred.

"Fuckin' paradise." Still, he wondered if leaving Allen, like he was, a good idea?

To hell with it. The call of whore-tits was too alluring, but then again, wasn't this the usual? That was how it was with them, they'd fight, walk away, then things would be back to normal. Truth be told, it kinda pissed him off. Allen would be mindwiped and doing tours at Terran Command if it hadn't been for Bryce smuggling him out, but fuck if he had know Allen would be this much trouble... Nah, he still couldn't do that to him. No one deserves to have their whole life wiped away like that-- like it meant nothing.

He got the chills and, immediately, he felt bad for suggesting Allen get RF'd. "Bryce!" He heard called behind him, and he truned to see the only custom's officer in the whole universe that didn't have his head up his ass. "Eric Brenson." He shook his fellow Doberman's paw, and gave him a strong hug. "Good to see ya, bud."

"Hell ya. You still sucking down that shitty Martian Ale? Your breath reeks of it."

"Gotta deal with Allen somehow."

"Aww," Eric smirked, "you two havin' a lover's spat?"

"Fuck off, you'd think I'd let him get my bone?" He laughed, pushing Eric away. "I'm mostly up for women right now, but anyway, 'nuff about Allen and me. How's life here on Langour? It's been about two months, right?"

"Yeah, and it's still shit here. I mean," Eric flung his paws into the air, "I got passed over for another promotion. For fucks sake, Langour is a fringe station, and one of the dangerous ones AND I served in the fucking fleet, and they pass over me for some fresh piece of ass from Terran Prime?"

"So, you lookin' for a change in jobs?"

"Would if I could, man." Eric shook his head, "You see the charges on fucking Lightgates? 120 creds per gate. Take my whole damn salary to get back to Earth Prime."

Bryce smirked, "Could if you knew someone with their own FTL Drive."

"No way," Eric got close, "You and Allen found an uncontrolled FTL?"

"What are you, Custom's Control Force? I don't need narcs."

They both laughed.

"I'll rip this damn CCF badge off, and suck your cock, to get on an FTL-enabled ship. You lookin' for a weapons expert?" Eric said, trying not to wag his tail like an hyperactive pup.

"Know anyone good?"

"Go fuck yourself, Bryce."

"A large number of people have wanted to see that today." Bryce's stub gave a slight wag, "Think I should charge?"

"Do you need me or not? You need me, don't you? I know a few others that might jump on board an FTL-capable ship to sweeten the deal."

"'Course my best buddy's gonna get a free ride," Bryce threw is arm over Eric's shoulder, "especially if I get a small crew out of it, but they have to be the kind that overlooks... things."

"Got it. I'll be packed and ready with those other guys in a day or so."

"I'm not kidding, Eric. They have to be able to overlook anything."

"Yeah, yeah. I said I got it." Eric waved dissmissivly as he started his way home. "You want lawless trash."

Waving to his departing friend, Bryce put an E-cig in his mouth and made his way to the bright, blinking neon sign down the road:

Luscious Ladies.

Tremendous Tits.

"Paradise," he sighed.

***

The airlock hissed as it open, Bryce and Eric walked in. "Seriously, Allen?" Bryce growled, noticing him still laying limp, "He, uh, gets tired and it apparently matches his body temp in there."

"Yep." Allen said, snapping to life. "Just me being a weird lizard. How's it going, Eric?"

"How'd you know it was me?" Eric squatted down to see Allen's face.

"Bryce has a handful of friends on this station, even less that would go along with his ideas. So, either it was you, or a prostitute." From the hole, Allen pointed to his dufflebag. "Saw that, so unless we're getting a hooker as a crewmember, I assumed it was you."

"Yeah, me and a few other mates I either jailed or worked with should be here tomorrow."

"Oh! So, this place will be crawling with former CCFs?" Allen focused on the panel above him, manually adjusting what he could do electronically. "What are those things you guys have been hunting after? Cyborgs, right?"

"Yeah, having living machines like that running around and can break encryptions and stuff. Shit, it's a bad idea all around." He shrugged.

"Hear that Bryce, this place will be crawling with former CCFs. God help any, Cybernetically enhanced people we find!" Allen laughed, "They're not people anymore -- just robots. Right, Eric?"

"I just know what the gov scientists say. No organic tissue means that they no longer have an static identity, and mindwiping means they have no static personality. So, I guess they do become robots. Why do you ask?"

"Just curious," Allen paused for a moment, "Yeah, I think they're just robots. Mindwiping them and programming them to do other things makes a lot more sense. Sometimes," he muttered, "I wish I could be mindwiped."

"Allen, are you, uh, okay?" Eric said; Bryce squatted beside Eric, a slight frown on his face.

Allen's tail lifted up, encircled the hatch door, and pulled it down. "What's up with Allen, Bryce?" Eric turned to him.

"It's been a hard few days for him. Our fight, and all, got pretty brutal at the end. I said something I shouldn't have, but I thought he'd be over it by now." Bryce stood up, "C'mon, I'll take you to the crew quarters."

As he followed Bryce down a floor, Eric stopped Bryce when he was sure they were out of Allen's earshot. "Are you... fucking him?"

"What?" Bryce turned to Eric, grinning. "You're kidding, right? A lizard and a canine."

"Bullshit," Eric's face held a concerned look, "I know interspecies sex is not a turn off for you. Remember when that Lizard Contortionist group came in?"

"Damn, that bitch could do the craziest shit!" Bryce laughed, trying to lighten the mood; Eric wasn't buying it.

"I also know we humped a few times during our dry spells, almost dated that one time when we were in CCF training. So, what is it?"

"What do you mean 'what is it'?" He pointed to a small, prison cell-like room. "This'll be your bunk."

"Stop trying to deflect. If you're not interested in him, just say it, because I'll bone the fuck out of a lizard's ass. You know how tight they are back there, and some of the males have their own personal lubricant in their backdoors, and--"

"Eric, trust me. You do not want to get involved. There is a shit-load of complications with him that you don't know about, and if you found out about, I doubt you'd be so eager to fuck him."

"Is he straight?"

"Well-- I don't really know, because I've never asked."

"Wow, shit," Eric tossed his duffle on his rack. "What is so wrong with him that even you wouldn't bone him? I mean you were in space for two months repairing this beautiful Corvette, and you didn't give him a big one for working so hard. No wonder he's pissed."

"Hey, you've got my permission to try and loosen up his tight ass, but he isn't going to let you close to him. He's been with me a year now, and all I get out of him is ship reports and, occasionally, a terrible math joke." Bryce shrugged, "Go ahead, try to get to know him and see what happens."

"I'll do more than that... I'll make him my personal cumholder." He gave a dirty grin to Bryce.

"Don't abuse the poor guy."

***

Eric could hear the sounds of water splashing in the shower and felt a bit like a stalker for waiting until Allen was showering to hit on him, but Bryce had told him Allen's precise schedule. "At Eleven, he'll take a shower so you can browse his goods if that makes you happy, but that's all you'll be doing," he had said, but Eric's cock had other plans for the reptile's shapely ass. He smiled as he emerged from under the covers, and threw a towel over his shoulder.

He whistled as he walked in, "Hey, Allen." He said, walking up next to him and flipping the shower to hot, "enjoying your shower?" He made sure Allen got a full view of what he was offering, only amplified by the shimmering water running down every crease and cut of muscle on his furred body.

"Good," Allen shrugged, "I suppose. Why do--" Eric clasped the reptile's arm and yanked him into his muscular chest. Their lips locked tightly for a moment as his powerful body pulled Allen flush against his perfectly partitioned abs. Their lips broke. "I, uh, Eric, you--" Once again, his lips were abducted by Eric's lips causing his face-scales to darken in arousal and fear, but all he could do was chuckle as he found himself in a fireman's carry and placed on his stomach in Eric's room.

He glanced back as he tail was being pulled to one side, only to see Eric's maw approach his hole. His eyes clamped shut, shrouding the world in blackness as a tongue lapped with stroke after dripping stroke over his hole. He gasped and groaned as he was teased, and began to melt into a warm relaxation punctuated with moments of intense wet pleasure.

The sudden heavy weight on his legs stirred his senses, as he heard the heavy panting of Eric. Some thick, wet drops fell upon his puckering hole, filling each pink ridge with something warm and slick. Opening his eyes once more, he could see the powerful Doberman on top of his thighs, his fat prick oozing long strings of cum that were landing and rolling down off of his tail hole.

Eric winked at him, and he shut his eyes as he felt the hard dog cock rubbing against his back door. It traced around his hole; the thick tip exploring every inch. Occasionally, it would probe deeper, shoot a little cum to lube his insides, and be pushed back out by Allen's hole. Slowly, the constant assault wore down his defenses, and he felt Eric scoot up his thighs, allowing his fat prick to stay deep inside.

Even though his tail block the view of their union, Allen could see the pleasure wash over Eric's face and he pushed back into him eagerly. Both of them let moans escape their lips, the pleasure had their faces burning with heat. Slowly, Eric pulled out.

Even though Allen wasn't use to having a cock in his ass, he longed to feel himself be penetrated and looked back to Eric with a smile. Eric returned it, before plunging himself down into the defenseless asshole. Allen gave a breathless cry of pleasure, and squeezed the reptile's shaft as tight as he could.

Eric rocked his hips in slow, sharp thrusts enjoying the new sensation.

"Faster," Allen cried out, and he felt Eric pull out completely, slap his hole a few times with his drooling dog cock, and in one continuous thrust, planted himself deep into those warm squeezing corridors.

After several exchanged moans of each other's name, Eric's panting became heavier. "Oh shit," he grunted as he lifted his head up into the air; his pace a near continuous stream of soft smacks as his muscled thighs pushed his knot in a little deeper each time. He wanted to breed and seed Allen, with that in mind, he inhaled and gave five hard slaps that echoed in the corridor before he felt his knotted rod sink into his bitch's hole.

"God damn." He panted as he laid his wet body on top of Allen, "Your asshole is amazingly tight. I normally go a lot longer than that, and never cum that hard. It's like you've got control of every damn muscle inside your asshole," He whispered into his ear. "Though, I still can't figure out why Bryce hasn't fucked you from the cockpit to the cargohold."

"Just how he is." Allen muttered as the ballooned knot began to shrink.

"Nah," Eric shook his head, "I think he likes you."

"Have you been drinking, too?"

"I've known Bryce since we were pups. He went to prison while we were in CCF Boot, and I got out of that life before I joined him. I was the closes friend he had and--"

"No." Allen growled, "I hate his guts, and he hates mine."

"How often does he talk about me when you're in space?"

"Never."

"How often has he asked your advice on buying me gifts?"

"Never, that's not his style."

"Yet, he talks to me about you all the time, and bought you a book on pirates while I was there. Let's make a bet," he popped his knot out. "If you go up there and sit next to him with the book he gave you and started reading it -- because I've heard him bitch about you NOT reading it -- and he doesn't start acting friendly, then I'll let you anally fuck me anytime, anywhere, as often as you want. Even now."

"And if you're right?"

Eric shrugged. "I want a threesome... with me in the middle."

"Nothing to lose, so it's a deal."

***