FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

OBLIGATORY WARNING: All characters in this story are created by me, and should bear no resemblance to anyone else's. If they do, it's a coincidence, nothing more. They are all more than likely to die gruesome, painful, violent, horrible deaths. This story has been written to vent my darker emotions, so if you do not want to read any further, I suggest you close this window NOW. This is the first time I have written a snuff story, so I would greatly appreciate any comments you may have that would help me improve my skills. Thank you.

A warm feeling surrounded a youngish cougar as he slowly stirred and woke up from his peaceful sleep. He found himself to be seated in a rather comfortable, padded chair. He moved to stretch out, as is instinctive for felines when unhurried, but quickly found that his movements were rather restricted, and he couldn't move his legs. His arms, however, were completely unhindered.

The 5' 6" male opened his eyes, and looked down. The first thing he noticed was that he was completely naked. His legs were attached to the chair by thick steel clasps, each clasp running from just below his knee all the way down to his ankle, both were securely shut but neither appeared to have a way to open it. The next thing he noticed was a thick metal box between his legs, and his balls had been trapped inside it. This box was attached to the chair and again, there was no obvious way to open it. There was, however, a wire running from the box down to each of his legs.

Only once he'd taken in the enormity of his situation did he look around at his surroundings. He was in a dark, dusty warehouse. A small aura of light was provided by two floodlights on poles high above him, and as he looked dead ahead, he found himself staring into the lens of a camera. All around him, pitch blackness. He couldn't see the walls, or the ceiling. All he could see was the grey concrete floor to which his chair had been bolted.

At first, he panicked. He squirmed around a little in his chair to see what would happen, but the box between his legs, and his two leg clasps, were rigid. The only things he could move were his arms and his head, so immediately he started to look around.

"H-Hello?" a frightened 19-year-old feline voice called. All that came in response were echo after echo, haunting him, tormenting him. "Hey!" he shouted, a little louder. After the taunting echoes, the feline heard footsteps behind him, coming up behind the chair.

The camera witnessed the cougar male's look of terror as thoughts flashed through his mind of why he was here. Another fur stopped behind the cougar. This fur wore a thick latex hood, complete with a prosthetic canine muzzle to conceal his identity. However, by his scent, the fur was definitely feline. Probably not too much older than him... a leopard? No... a tiger...

"Good morning, James," a computer-generated voice spoke. The cougar immediately snapped out of his reverie and looked up, whimpering softly. The generated voice continued, "I am The Collector. I collect parts of the body that cause abnormality. I have noticed that you have an abnormally high sexual drive. I will simultaneously cure you of this, and also obtain a specimen for my research."

The voice went silent. The words that had been spoken slowly sank into the mind of the cougar, James. "Wh-what do you want from me?" he asked, in a shaky voice.

The ever-patient computer-generated voice spoke again, repeating, "I have noticed that you have an abnormally high sexual drive. I will simultaneously cure you of this, and also obtain a specimen for my research." James fell silent, reaching down to test the restraints around his legs. After ten long, painful seconds of silence, the voice behind him continued. "Your testicles are trapped in my prototype collecting device. The device can only be removed from the chair by sliding it away from your body. There are two pressure sensors in the base of the device which will unlock your legs when they are both pressed down. In fifteen minutes, acid will be released, corroding the locks on your legs and permanently welding them shut."

A moment after the voice finished, the fur behind him reached down and turned a dial on one of the leg restraints, before pressing it in so that it couldn't again be turned by hand. The room was immediately filled with a quiet "tick... tock... tick... tock..." To the cougar, he could hear the sound of his doom resonating, and before he could ask the fur any more questions, he was gone. The cougar was, to all intents and purposes, alone in the warehouse.

He looked around. There was a camera directly above him, no doubt to record any efforts he made to escape, he surmised. There was also a pinhole camera in the top of the box between his legs, looking up at his face, capturing his expressions in minute detail. He looked down at the ticking box, and noticed a wire connecting it to a similar black box on the other leg restraint. And the hand on the timer was starting to leave its position on 15 minutes.

He sat there, staring incredulously, trying to remember how he'd got here. He could remember waking up, walking to work. Actually, he could remember leaving the house and walking... but he couldn't remember getting to work. Someone must have abducted him along the way, someone who knew his route. But who...? He wasn't an important fur. He was a civil servant for the local government. He paid his taxes like everyone else, he wasn't behind on his finance, he was just an ordinary guy. Admittedly he'd had sex with the odd horny vixen, or wolf, or gryphon, or... tiger... He sniffed the air again. So many males (and females, too) he'd slept with, he could barely remember all the scents. And this one wasn't immediately familiar, either.

James looked down at the clock again. It was halfway between 15 and 10. He looked back up at what he had to do. The metal box between his legs had two pressure pads... there was no way in... but he somehow had to push them down.

Realisation hit like a water balloon, and immediately he cried out, reaching down to desperately grab at his leg restraints, tugging at them helplessly. He looked around, and cried out, "Help meeee!" but of course, no help came. He knew the tiger was still there. His scent wasn't moving, he was completely motionless. James looked down at the box yet again, flumping back in his chair.

Ten minutes left. He knew the only way he was going to push those pressure pads down was going to be with his balls. But the box was too deep. There's no way he was going to be able to reach. He was going to have to castrate himself if he wanted to get free. But the tiger hadn't given him any tools to do it with. He slumped back in the chair, and the 19-year-old cougar started to cry. Tears rolled down his cheeks as he closed his eyes, his situation so impossibly dire that it threatened to overwhelm his senses. Through the haze of tears, he looked at the sac of flesh that came out from beneath his cock and was trapped in the side of the machine. If he had a scalpel, a knife, a blade of any sort... maybe he'd be able to do it...

He stole another glance at the timer. He started to feel a little flustered now, it was on the wrong side of ten minutes left. Panic overcame him even as he tried to keep a clear head, the time was going so fast, just make it stop... please make it stop... But the ticks and tocks kept sounding, kept echoing, kept reminding him of what he had to do. He sobbed as he extended a claw and pressed it to the top of his nutsac, between his body and the box. When he felt the claw against his own flesh, he gulped, and hesitated. There was no way his teenage mind would have even contemplated running his own claw through his sac. Maybe someone would come and rescue him? He's AWOL from work, somebody would be sure to notice. Wouldn't they? But would they notice within the next... oh Gods, seven minutes...

Desperate and out of options, he suddenly jabbed his claw through his sac. It punctured the top layer of skin, and immediately, blood began to pour out over his paw. The cougar let off an ear-piercing scream of horror and pain as he realised what he'd done. He immediately pulled his claw back and started massaging around the wound, whimpering between gasps for air. His face, by now, was clenched into a grimace of pain. And, in his mind, he wasn't any closer at all to getting free.

He forced his eyes open to try and focus on the timer. He couldn't see it clearly enough, his mind was reeling, all he could do was shakily lower his paw back to his sac. This time he held out three claws, intent on making a firm swipe. His paw was shaking like a leaf blowing in a gale, there was so much going through his mind... he knew if he didn't do something in the next few minutes, he would be trapped in this chair. His legs would be trapped in their metal sleeves, which are far too tight to be pried or cut off even now, but after acid has burned them to the chair... The worst part was, his survival instinct hadn't kicked in. There was no feeling of fight or flight, no adrenaline to numb the pain. Everything had been orchestrated perfectly. He had to make a conscious decision.

Making the decision, he pressed the three claws against his sac, and with a loud growl, swiped. One of the claws caught in the hole he'd already made and dragged it open some more, making him scream as liquid pain shot through his groin and right the way up his breastbone. The other two claws harmlessly scraped over the surface of his sac. Now he could finally feel his adrenaline starting to pump, and he took another swipe straight away. This time he was more successful, two of his claws sinking into that gash and dragging it further open. As they did, his fingers scooped up some of the blood and sprayed it out into the darkness.

The camera in the box caught the look of sheer determination on his face, as the feline spent the next two minutes opening up a big enough hole in his sac. His shaking paws reached down into it as he howled in pain, tears flowing from his eyes as he touched the bundles of tubing within his sac with his fingers. He spasmed and strained as his fingers traced up his balls and found the tubes connecting them to his body, and with a sudden swipe of his claws, the tubes were cut. His balls rolled down the floppy sac and even through all the pain, the bloody orbs could be felt rolling off the skin and into the box.

There was just one problem. The timer had fallen silent. He was too late. He immediately started to struggle at the chair, looking around in his pain-induced haze, as the light, pitiful voice cried out "Heeeeeellpp!"

The disguised feline he'd seen earlier once again walked up behind him, purring softly. Wordlessly, the feline reached between the cougar's legs and pulled the box away from him. He detached the wires leading to the box, and with a carefully hidden press on a concealed button, opened the box. He showed the camera the contents of the box, the two freshly-detatched testes marinaded in a pool of teenage cougar blood. The disguised fur stroked James' shoulder consolingly, the camera in front of the cougar catching the look on his face. He was almost calm as he looked up at his captor with a desperate pleading expression, saying shakily, "P-please... I... did what you wanted... let me go..."

As the disguised fur stepped back away from him to go and put his prize in the freezer, James yelled at the top of his voice, "Let me gooooooo!" He struggled, and fought, but the metal had now been thoroughly fused together. The chair was bolted to the floor, and nobody knew where he was. It was plain to see, he'd condemned himself to death in that dark, cold warehouse. He just prayed the blood he was losing would make that death come swiftly.