FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

With Sharven at work and Pavlor opting to remain home, the remainder of the week was devoid of anything as exciting as the day spent at the office. The computer and other items Pavlor had lifted from his home were now up and running, special converters were in place to emulate the power supply that the electronic equipment needed. He had his television, a video game system and a multitude of games, a computer, some of his leather gear, a few cherished items and some photo albums. They had been boxed up and locked shut, so the movers would not know what items were inside, as the trip to get all of the items was strictly against the rules.

During the week, however, Pavlor learned just how well liked Sharven was at his job. Several times a day people from the office would stop by; they came to check up on him, bring a welcome gift or two, stay a half hour or hour either by themselves or with their pets, enjoy a good muzzle job, then depart back to work. Sharven would always call home to check on who was at the door first, and then allow them entry (after making sure Pavlor approved of the company). Pavlor had not once denied anyone entry, because for the most part they came with sweet candies, a special lunch, and eager dicks ready to feel, first hand, how well Pavlor could use his muzzle.

Each night when Sharven returned home he would ask his pet how the visitors were. When Pavlor was rather short and a little guarded with his first recount of the two visitors, Sharven had to prod him into giving more details. Pavlor had still been a little wary about being so graphic with his experiences. He was worried about making jealous tempers rise. This was a rather silly assumption, seeing as Sharven had invited these people over to check up on his pet, and help him relieve himself without having to resort to his own paw. The more details that were recounted, the more aroused Sharven would become when he would mate his pet that night.

And Sharven mated his pet every night, with his pets consent, of course. Mostly the consent consisted of Pavlor hiking his tail after watching Sharven undress, and little more acceptance was required. Pavlor quickly became accustomed to feeling that shaft inside him every night that week.

The first day of the weekend came, and for once the annoying buzz if the alarm left the two asleep in their bed. The sun was filtering in through the shades over the window and illuminated the room gently. The numbers on the clock ticked over to noon, or what would be considered noon to Pavlor. Sharven was holding his pet against his chest as he lay on his back, the canine's muzzle open and having drooled slightly on the white skin under him.

A cracking of bones and the sharp intake of breath signaled Sharven's final acknowledgment of consciousness. He looked down and saw the dog still lingering on the edge of sleep. He brought his hand down, wiped away the small line of drool on his chest, and then wiped the side of the canine's face.

"Time to get up, got a whole day of nothing to look forward too," Sharven sang to his pet.

Pavlor rolled over, flopping his body against the mattress as a massive weight shifted on the bed. Arms reached under the canine, lifted him up easily and carried him to the shower. Inside the water started before they entered, and the canine was tenderly placed on his feet in the warm stream of water.

Sharven washed his pet off, using a special sponge-like brush to comb through the hair and remove all the old fur. Then he washed his pet carefully, cleaning him completely like he was getting him ready for a pet show. He even went so far as to brush Pavlor's teeth, running the mint gel against the teeth and gums carefully. Pavlor was eating all this up.

When Pavlor was done being groomed, Sharven had him sit down in the corner of the shower, where a small seat was. He wasn't allowed to help Sharven clean himself, which was done with relative ease, considering the type of creature he was. The water was turned off, and Sharven helped dry his pet before they headed into the kitchen for some food.

After they had eaten, Sharven was opening an envelope that had been delivered earlier in the day. Inside were two tickets. The first was a shiny silver color, embossed with the words:

CLUB FASCINATION

For the admittance of one Sharven Wellser

Signed Taren Drexar

The second one was gold, embossed in the same manner and read:

CLUB FASCINATION

For the admittance of one Pavlor Wellser

Signed Taren Drexar

Pavlor cocked his head, "Umm, how come mine is gold, wouldn't you get the gold one and I the silver?"

Sharven responded, "Because gold is less valuable than silver, at least it is here anyways."

Pavlor tilted his head and said, "Oh, well, yeah, I guess assuming something like that would be silly, huh?"

"No, I don't expect you to know everything about your new home. You can ask anything you want."

Pavlor moved and gave Sharven's shoulder a small bite playfully, "I know I know, if you tell me that again, I'm gonna nip your tail."

"Oh yeah," came the reply, Sharven's voice rising. He looked to his pet as he opened his eyes wide and lifted his head, "you nip my tail, and I'll not let you at a ferute for a year."

"Oh you wouldn't!" Pavlor blurted, stepping back and looking pseudo-hurt.

Sharven jerked his body forward, like he was getting ready to punch Pavlor, "Try me!" He had a wildly playful look on his face, which egged Pavlor on.

Pavlor crouched down and pushed at the thick tail hanging behind Sharven, which was rather easy in his current position. His teeth grabbed and sank into the thick skin, not causing any damage but making he orca's skin sting for a second.

Sharven jumped and grabbed his tail, lunging at the canine. "Why you!" He nearly got his hand around the canine's shoulder before Pavlor slipped away, running around the corner and down the hall with his feet padding heavily on the floor.

Pavlor started laughing, grabbing the wall to help propel himself around the corner, narrowly avoiding a black hand that reached for his neck.

"Oh, you're gonna get it you!" Sharven chased him around the hall, down into the end room and around the bed in the bedroom. Standing on opposite sides, Sharven leapt at the canine, trying to fake him out by angling around the bed, but then going over it. Pavlor, however, wasn't quite so naive, and bolted in the direction Sharven had initially lunged and was skipping around the orca's outstretched legs.

"Ha ha! Missed me!" he said, bolting out the door.

Sharven jumped up and chased his pet out the door and back down the hallway. They ran into the dining room, standing opposite each other at the table as Sharven faked one way, then the other, causing his pet to scamper back and forth. For a few moments they stood at an impasse, Sharven blocking the exit for his pet, and keeping him on edge and not knowing which way he was going to go.

Then Pavlor made a run around the table thinking he had enough room to squeeze by Sharven without being caught. He jumped away as he scooted past, but the hand reached out and grabbed him by the arm firmly. Pavlor yipped and giggled madly, trying to wrench himself free from the hand.

Sharven pulled the dog against him, trapping his arms and lifting him up. With Sharven's training, especially with dealing with pets, he was easily able to lift, restrain, and subdue his pet without any outside assistance. Once Pavlor found out he was trapped and couldn't get away, he pinned his ears back and pouted.

"No fair!"

"Heh, I never said anything about fair. You're the one who nipped my tail!"

"Nuh-uh!"

"Oh yeah?" Sharven leaned his mouth down and nipped his pet's shoulder, enough to make him yip slightly from the pinch.

"Hey hey! No FAIR! Your skin's tougher than mine!"

"Awe, should have thought about that before you nipped my tail! Bad, bad boy!"

"Ow!" Pavlor pouted again, the second nip nowhere near as painful as the first, but playing it up as if it were.

The doorbell rang, as it is apt to do during the most inopportune times. Sharven picked his pet up, still keeping him restrained, but holding him cradled in his arms. They reached the door and he opened it.

There was an orca there, dressed in jet-black rubber with the silver-embossed logo of Club Fascination on his right pectoral. He was holding a large, plain box and was smiling at the sight before him. "Mr. and Mr. Wellser," the orca said, holding the box out. "Compliments of Mr. Drexar."

"Come in," Sharven said, stepping back but keeping his pet firmly held.

The orca entered and moved into the room. He placed the box down on the ground, then stood and placed his arms behind his back respectfully. Sharven put his pet down and looked from the box, to the logo on the uniform, then to the deliveryman's eyes. "What's this?"

"This sir, is your complimentary attire for this evening, if you so desire. Mr. Drexar has sent me with these." He opened the top of the box, pulling out a sleek black rubber one-piece suit. It had one zipper from above the base of the tail up to the back of the neck. The front had a small sticky flap over the groin. This was handed to Sharven while the second one; a full leather suit with almost exactly the same configuration sans-tail was handed to Pavlor.

The two stood there, holding the suits with an uneasy silence. "I don't think we can accept these," Sharven said.

"Mr. Drexar, of course, completely understands if you do not feel comfortable with these gifts, sir, but requested I do my best to convince you to try and accept them. I would very much like to return to him successful in my mission, but I will not force them upon you. He hopes, at the very least, you would accept his hospitality at the club this evening, and dine with him and his most favored of guests."

Sharven looked at Pavlor, who returned his gaze and shrugged as if to say, 'Why not? It can't hurt, can it?'

"Well, I suppose we can at least try them, I just don't want any catches..."

"I assure you sir, there are no catches, just the request you grace Mr Drexar with your presence and in your complimentary attire."

Sharven looked at his suit and was turning it around to try and figure out how to slip it on. He opened the back, looking inside and then putting one of his feet down the leg. It slid in easily, the tight rubber stretching around his leg and fitting smoothly over his foot. There were thick pads under the soles, which meant the suit was designed to be worn without footwear. He slipped his other leg inside and pulled it up his body, then slipped his arms down the sleeves and pulled the suit up. He turned around to reach for the zipper, but Pavlor was there and was helping to zip it up.

The suit was like a second skin; there were no seams and no folds except for the zipper and the appropriately placed access point at Sharven's male slit. He turned his body one way, then the other, feeling the rubber slide around his torso. "Well, I must say, it's an extremely good fit."

"Mr. Drexar does his homework sir."

"Can I try mine then?"

"If I might assist you, sir," the deliveryman said, looking from Sharven and then to Pavlor for consent. Sharven nodded and the orca stepped over, holding the suit in such a way as to allow the canine to step into it. Pavlor's furry leg slid in to the leg, the soft interior not catching his hair like rubber would. He stepped down into the soft padded boot, wiggling his toes. He put his second leg in, putting his hand out to place it on the deliveryman's shoulder. He got his second leg in, and then the leather suit was brought up over his arms and chest. The zipper up the back was closed, leaving his tail hanging freely out a padded hole.

Pavlor looked at himself. He noticed there was a slight pressure against his sheath. He looked closer at his groin and saw a similar flap like that on Sharven's suit, the leather folded against itself. He reached down and pulled it open easily, letting his sheath fall from the flap, spilling out.

"You look quite stunning, Mr.Wellser."

Pavlor looked to Sharven, expecting the compliment to be directed towards him. A moment passed and he looked at the deliveryman, who was staring at him! "You mean me?"

"Of course I do sir," he replied with a smile. "Now, I do have one final thing before I depart. Mr. Drexar has instructed me to inform you a car will be picking you up in a few hours, if you wish to accept the ride. A muzzle will not be required, as the car is equipped with an internal lock as required by the law governing pet transports. If you so wish, the car will be at your disposal all evening until you return home. Company and Driver licensing cards will be provided when they get here, should you wish to register your transport with the ICTA."

"ICTA?"

"Inter-City Transport Association, sir. It is the government institution used to license, maintain and enforce secure transport for government officials."

"I suppose we could then," Sharven said. "I have an ICTA identification card."

"Then the car shall be waiting for you at three sir. Here is data card of the rules for the club. Should you have any additional questions, the contact info is listed there and the line is always open. Are there any questions or requests you have?"

"No, not that I can think of, you Pavlor?"

"Umm, no."

The deliveryman nodded, "Then Mr. Drexar looks forward to your company this evening." Sharven turned to the door, opening it for the other orca, and then closed it.

"Well, I suppose a good portion of what I heard about the club was true. Shall we look over the club rules?"

Pavlor nodded, and followed Sharven to the view screen. He placed the flat card inside a slot and the video began playing. An orca dressed in the same uniform as the deliveryman who just left was there, explaining about the club. He seemed to be leaving everything about the inside of the club in the most general and vague terms for the moment, and began going over the criteria for members.

First time members were invited to the club, and given non-restricted access for the first evening. There were five areas to the club, the first being the entrance garage, where ICTA certified cars could go and allow the guests access to the club without requiring muzzles or leashes, as well as a main entrance where a 'coat check' like room would keep all articles brought.

The second area was the main club, where music, dancing, drinks and food were served. There was a lighted dance floor, a stage for live bands and a DJ booth and three bars along the walls where food and drinks could be ordered. All purchases were done through the clubs credit system; there was no need for tipping of the staff, as it was strictly against the rules.

The third area were the playrooms, which were left un-described, except to mention all activities here were required to have consent between all parties. Any unwanted attention was dealt with a strict ejection from the club and a lifetime suspension. Due to the nature of some play, it was noted that the wearing of wristbands that could be silently scanned by others could give consent for play, and there was a complete list of these rules available at the club.

The fourth area was for relaxation, warm baths, socialization between members and pets in a non-restrictive atmosphere. Here any sexual activity was strictly off limits.

The fourth area was the owner's private space, where he entertained exclusive guests, and no details beyond this were divulged.

More rules were listed out on the screen, and Pavlor soon got bored of reading them and relaxed back in the warm leather suit. Sharven continued to read until he was done and had absorbed them.

"Well, it seems pretty straight forward," he said, rubbing his pets head. "You wont have to worry about anything, all those rules just tell you not to be a jerk to anyone. This might just be really fun."

They watched more of the video, taking it in as much as they could until a knock came at the door. Sharven got up to answer it, and it was the car they were to take into the city. Sharven went to open the garage door, his car moving out to allow the other in, so as to be able to avoid having to muzzle Pavlor at all. Still, Sharven brought a muzzle and leash, just incase.

The car was a rich blue color, almost twice as long as Sharven's car. The back seat had quite a bit of room, enough to lie down and relax. The door closed behind them, and Sharven typed a key code into a pad, locking the doors. The garage opened, and they were on their way.

The driver's voice came over the intercom, "It will be an hour drive sir. If you need anything, my name is Jerod."

"Thank you Jerod." The intercom clicked off. "Well, you feel like playing a game?"

"A game, what kind?"

Sharven pulled open a sliding door to show four controllers and a video screen. "I'm pretty good Atraxia. You ever play it?"

"No, not yet."

"It's a puzzle game," Sharven began to explain, reaching for two controllers and handing one to Pavlor. "Here, watch." He brought up the menu and started the game, catching colored blobs that melted together. After catching enough of the same color, they would pop, bursting little specs of color and making a 'gooshing' sound.

Pavlor began playing in two-player mode with his owner, finding the game easy to catch on to, but it was a challenge keeping up! The time passed quickly, the two enjoying the company and the game as they zipped down streets and finally pulled into the club's ground-level garage. The outside of the building was completely bland, giving no hint as to what was inside.

The door closed behind the car, clicking shut and a green light came on next to the only door in the spacious garage. The car pulled up to it and stopped, the driver exiting and walking around to stand outside the door.

"Is he going to let us out?"

"Not until I unlock the door," Sharven said. "So, you feel comfortable with all this, right? I don't want you feeling..."

But Pavlor cut him off quickly, squelching any concerns, "Are you kidding, I can't wait to get in there!"

"OK, OK, keep your dick in your sheath," Sharven smirked. He punched the code in and the doors clicked.

The driver opened the door and let them out into the garage just as the plain door opened up to show a uniformed club worker stepping out. He left the door open and shifted to the side, saying, "Welcome Mr. Wellser, and Mr. Wellser. Mr Drexar is waiting upstairs for you in his private floor. Ambassador Xilith, Mr Quiss, Mr. Landley and Mr Sorens are already here and eagerly awaiting your presence."

"Wait, do you mean Vish Sorens?"

"Yes sir, I do."

"And Abmassador..."

"Xilith sir, yes. They are waiting you upstairs."

Pavlor gave Sharven's arm a slight tug. "Ambassador?"

"Yes, from one of the other four countries. He's a well known pet-rights activist, changed many laws in his country, and well known for championing, well, certain causes."

"Please sir," the orca said in the most politest of tones, "You are awaited up in the dining room."

Sharven took the hint, though he seemed to have gone too dry in the mouth to reply. Pavlor followed him into the room, which was actually a large elevator. This, thankfully, had wooden walls, so Pavlor wouldn't have to worry about seeing anything that might instigate his fear of heights.

The orca joined them inside and then placed a key into a hole. He turned it and the room began to move upwards slowly. All three stood silently, Sharven looking rather anxious as they waited. The room finally came to a stop, and the wall to one side opened up slowly.

Beyond was a lavishly decorated room, as large as Sharven's house and filled with large, fluffy couches, plush chairs and a large coffee-style table with a flower arrangement. Yellow and silver tapestries draped down from the walls, and large crystal chandeliers hung from the ceiling. All those inside had been standing and drinking a red beverage, but were now silent and looking back at the three inside the elevator.

Everyone was wearing the exact same style clothing as Sharven and Pavlor, each orca in a shiny, black rubber suit and each pet in leather suit. Five orcas, one fox, two equines (one jet black, the other brown), a bovine and a raccoon were there staring back.

"Well, well, well. If it isn't Sharven," one of the orca's said, and Pavlor immediately recognized him as Vish. "It's about time you got here, we've been waiting for you."

Sharven walked in with Pavlor trailing behind him slightly. Though Sharven gave an air of confidence, Pavlor could feel that he was a little bit nervous. "Vish, you put my name in for the club?"

Vish smirked, "Of course I did! Well, I gave it to Taren three years ago, but you have to have a pet to join. We were just waiting for you to get one. Oh, and if I might make the introductions." He walked forward, the black horse following him and smiling. "First, Pavlor, this is my pet, Kendel. Kendel, this is Pavlor Wellser."

The horse bowed slightly, "A pleasure."

Vish continued, "That program I showed you this week, that's one of his ideas."

Pavlor suddenly filled with warmth. He felt, oddly enough, suddenly very comfortable. "Pleased to meet you."

Kendel stepped to the side to let Vish guide Sharven and Pavlor over to the others. Vish came to the first pair on the left, the tallest of the group of orcas and the fire-orange fox. "This is our host, Mr Taren Drexar, and his pet, Rhyas."

They both bowed, and Sharven and Pavlor bowed back.

"This is Mr. Alex Landley and Thumper." Thumper was the raccoon. He was a little large around the middle and had a somewhat aggressive look on his face. "Thumper is aptly named for his endowment, before you ask. He's a puff-ball, so don't let his look fool you," Vish said.

The racoon's deep, rough voice snorted out, "Are you going to tell EVERYONE that? For once I'd like to at least feel dominant in my life," he said.

Alex poked him in the shoulder, "Dominant, yeah, if you call wanting every dick in the world up your tail dominant." The raccoon rolled his eyes with a determined smirk.

"And this is Mr Palmor Quiss and Jax," were the next couple, the most average of orca's that Pavlor had ever seen standing next to the most muscular bull he might ever see in his life.

Jax curled his arm in front of his torso and gave a curt bow, something Pavlor assumed was an ingrained customary greeting in his culture.

"Finally, Mr. Hreath Xilith and Garrison."

The orca with the brown horse had a very relaxed air about him, and as Sharven was about to say something, he was cut off by the thick accent of the foreigner, which was heavy with rolling syllables and crisp vowels, "And I will not have you treating me like an ambassador, thank you Sharven. It so becomes tiring after hours and hours of overly polite hellos."

For a moment Sharven looked a little shocked and hurt. Hreath moved closer, squeezing between Pavlor and Sharven, taking each on in an arm-grab about their shoulder, and pulling them into the group. "If anyone should be treated with honor, it is you. Such noble work and outstanding record you have at the agency. Not to mention that little fiasco you incited at Jerenda ten years ago."

Pavlor could feel Sharven's mind flood with embarrassment, and he couldn't help but wonder what type of fiasco his owner might have gotten into to catch the attention of a foreign dignitary.

"Suffice it to say," Hreath continued, taking over the group and guiding the two new members to the dinner table, where plush wooden chairs and silver plates awaited everyone. Pavlor couldn't also help but notice the owner of the club, Taren, seemed quite delighted that Sharven was being picked on in such a praising manner. "Four days in confinement for breaking someone's beak? I can't say I wouldn't have done worse to the man. What happened to his pet? Ah yes, the official report was 'Accidentally Castrated by Farm Equipment.' I must say, I never knew a reaper to be so clean at taking off just a single, protected body part before. Isn't that butcher still in rehab trying to learn to reuse his prosthetics?"

Pavlor stopped at the chair he was lead to. He watched Hreath look to him, grinning sadistically, like he had just lit a fire inside a paper mill. Sharven looked determinedly red from embarrassment, and was avoiding everyone's gaze.

Sharven sat quickly and remained quite silent, looking around as the others took their seats, each pet sitting beside his owner. Pavlor leaned over the table and looked at Sharven, trying to catch his attention and get some clarification.

Sharven looked to Pavlor in a resigned way, as if he had been trying to conceive some way out of having this story go any further, but came to the irrevocable conclusion that such an attempt would only make it worse. "There was a protest against the new laws passed about pet treatment," he said, intent on making sure the rest of the story came from him rather than anyone else. "I was working for the agency then as a security guard, and I was dispatched to a home that had a report of pet abuse. The third time I went there, his owner said he sent him off to live with his brother. We knew he was still around, and my partner found him, doped up in a locked room and... injured."

"Why?"

"His pet wasn't the strong kind, I should say. He was being forced to work in the fields, which was illegal; pets cannot be used for any hard labor. His pet tried to run away and since he had already had two children, he wanted to punish him for his attempts. So he had an accident with the farm equipment."

"But that's horrible!" Pavlor looked somewhat disgusted.

Taren spoke up for the first time; his voice was quite the opposite of Hreaths. He had a very relaxed flow to his words, like he had formulated them hours before he spoke. "Should have had his own dick removed, if you ask me. But he got off on a technicality, and outside the magistrate's house, Sharven decked him so hard, he shattered the man's beak. One punch it was, I remember that footage, it was all over the news."

Sharven nodded. "I was sentenced to five months for assault, but only served four days due to a glitch, it seemed. Someone," he said with a very suspicious tone, "broke into the computer system and changed the dates on my sentence. No one questioned my release, and it never made it to the papers. The agency sent me away for five months of training. When I got back, I had been promoted to Commander."

A sudden rush of details began filtering through Pavlor's mind. Details that, at the time had seemed slightly odd or unimportant, now fell into distinct patterns. Sharven's reaction to the security guard's comments when he was taken to work, and the subsequent fear in the guard's eyes when he realized he had upset Sharven. Then the way everyone seemed to ignore Pavlor's presence with Sharven on the ship, as if he wasn't there. The unquestioning response when Sharven had told his crew they were picking up some possessions, and the respect each man had for him while he was in command. The many, many visitors to the house while Sharven was at work, and how they treated Pavlor, bringing presents, spending time with him, and making him feel at home and welcome.

Taren spoke up a moment after Sharven had stopped talking, but all those thoughts had run right through Pavlor's head in that short time. "Which is why you were invited here tonight, Sharven. I have always despised those who mistreat our charges. We have been both punished by our actions, and blessed by those who choose to come to our aid." He turned to his fox, leaning over and giving the furry cheek a loving kiss. "I am very pleased you joined us Sharven, I hope you remain with us. But that is not for now. We are here to celebrate, and celebrate we shall."

Taren had barely finished the sentence when waiters came out from behind a tapestry. They were each carrying two silver trays with ornate covers. Each one was placed down on the table and they took off the covers.

Pavlor's mouth began to drool from what he saw. It was a favorite of his food, a tangy, creamy meat sauce with pasta and chunks of cooked meat. It had specks of green seasoning inside and the smell was heaven! He looked to each other plate, the covers removed to reveal a different meal. The smells began to mingle in the dining area, mixing in the most absurd and delicious ways.

Drinks were placed down, and Pavlor could hardly believe the deep purple wine that was poured for him. It smelled sweet and dry, and he was restraining himself from diving right in.

Taren smiled as he watched Sharven and Pavlor become awestruck. "I do hope you find your meals acceptable. It is quite a bit of work researching someone's unique tastes without outright asking them. Please, enjoy yourselves."

Pavlor began instantly, first taking a taste of the dripping, saucy meat. It was absolute bliss! It was just like he remembered it, the tangy hint of cream, and the deep robust flavor of meat. They ate in silence, the meals disappearing almost as quickly as they had arrived. Pavlor was leaning back, rubbing his leather-covered tummy and sipping the wine he was given. He kept catching Taren glancing at him and smiling.

The plates were taken away and they all got up at Taren's behest. The club had opened, and they were to go down and enjoy themselves. Sharven and Pavlor were both given bracelets to wear and then asked to program them at a terminal, to code into them what their sexual preferences were. This would allow them to scan, and be scanned by people in the bar, if they so chose to engage in any activities. As much as Pavlor was excited about trying it, Vish and Kendel hijacked them away and were taking them down in the elevator. The others remained behind to relax and drink in the private quarters.

Vish was grinning far too much for his own good, and as soon as the elevator doors closed, he couldn't contain himself anymore. "Kendel would like to show you some of his creations, Pavlor."

"Creations?" Sharven asked.

"Yes," Vish continued. "Like the machine program I showed him before. Pavlor and he share some common interests. I thought you two could skip a few formalities and get right into the club. Sharven is notorious for reading and memorizing rules."

Kendel nickered softly, and Pavlor looked over to where he was. He stood behind Sharven, his thick hands up and rubbing the orca's shoulders and causing their owner to lean forward and relax against the wall. The horse was nibble-biting at Sharven's neck as well. Pavlor smiled, nothing filled him with as much a sense of satisfaction as watching his owner being happy. Jealousy was not an issue for the canine, since it had never been one for Sharven.

"So," Vish said, "Where would you like to go first, have some relaxation, socialize, or enjoy another of my pets fine programs?"

"How about," Sharven said, his voice straining to work from the relaxation being forced upon him, "We go have a few drinks and see what other guests are here?"

"Then to the bar we shall go." He pushed a button and the elevator began to descent down to the second floor of the club. The doors opened up into a private hallway, each end flanked by two uniformed guards in special club outfits. They all stood at attention as the doors opened. One of the two guards closest to the elevator spoke, "Welcome sirs, the club is currently open."

"Thank you," Vish said, and ushered everyone across the hall. "This is the private elevator. You all, of course, have unrestricted access in the club. Any bouncer or wait staff can assist you."

The doors opened and a flood of heavy-pounding dance music filled the hallway. It was as if someone had suddenly turned on the radio, the vibrations of the sound tickling Pavlor's ears and the colored lights flashing atop the dance floor. There were two more security guards on the outside who both stood rather stiffly and filled out their uniforms in an almost ghastly display of raw strength. The guests were already mingling around, some dancing and being overly friendly on the floor, others seated and talking loudly over the music. Not a single pet was muzzled, and there were more bodies and variations of species than Pavlor could count. A sea of orcas intermingled with lizards, cows, foxes, dogs, raccoons, gorillas, equines, rhinos, felines stretched out before him. Everytime Pavlor blinked he saw something new.

Vish brought them over to the far side, squeezing through the more blandly dressed guests, most of who were either naked or had simple leather, rubber, or PVC style clothing on. The bar was exactly as Pavlor would have imagined it, rows of brightly colored bottles and clear liquids behind, a select few were brands he even recognized, and many more he didn't. The closest bartender moved over, his light, almost effeminate voice asking, "And what might I get you gentlemen this evening?"

Kendel said, "Vish and I would like our usual, only if you could double mine."

The orca winked and began grabbing glasses and bottles, "Of course hot stuff. And you, Pavlor? I heard from the boss you like Rippers."

Pavlor blinked, "You can make Rippers?"

The orca grinned, winking again, "I can make you anything your fuzzy heart desires. Rippers, Flagrons, Short Screws, Plied Muzzles, you name is sweetheart, I can make it."

"Well, yes, a Ripper then, please."

"And Sharven, beer, or a Jacked Hyena?"

"Just a beer for now, thanks."

"Right you are," he said, and had the drinks on the bar with lightning speed. He even put the small shaved rind of a lime in Pavlor's drink, as was the proper way to serve it. Pavlor took it and sipped the noxious mixture, the alcohol burning his nostrils before it slipped sweetly down his throat.

Sharven was pulling out his card to pay for the drinks, but the orca put his hand up. "No sir, your money is no good here."

"For a tip then."

"I'm sorry, not allowed. Boss' orders for driving the price up on your fine catch. Your money wont ever be good here sir."

"I insist," Sharven tried, pushing the card forward.

"I can not accept your money, but if you or your partner want to feel the inside of my mouth later this evening, I'd accept that as a tip." He winked again, licked his lips and had a horribly devilish smirk on his face. With a quick flip of his fingers, the bartender procured two small business cards from the air, and handed one to Sharven and one to Pavlor. "Boss doesn't let us take money, but he never said anything about taking cum. Name's Gregor, and I'd be offended if you tried getting your drinks from someone else. Enjoy your poisons, gents." He turned to the attention of another customer and began filling his order.

Sharven turned to Vish, "I can't, I don't feel right taking all this for free."

Vish slapped Sharven on the back, downing his blue-green drink without a single thought. "Heh, if only you knew big guy."

"Knew what?" Sharven glanced back. "You know I hate being kept in the dark Vish."

Pavlor was feeling the warmth burning into his tummy, the alcohol, a special mix of sweet fruits and a tangy citrus, was dulling his senses rather quickly. He was feeling relaxed and slightly buzzed after only a few minutes.

"That Taren knew you were bidding on Pavlor, and was outbidding others when you were hesitating on bidding yourself."

"Outbidding me?"

"No, outbidding others. To make sure you got what you wanted. Just don't tell anyone else, he has a reputation to uphold."

"But why Vish," he asked over the music, the crowd shuffling around them. "Why do..."

"Oh come now, your memory isn't that bad, is it?"

Sharven pursed his lips, looking to Pavlor and then back to Vish, yanking yanking the orca into a hug. "No, and I am not dim either. I must thank them later for..."

"You will do no such thing!" Vish interrupted, pishing Sharven back and looking annoyed. "For fucks sake Sharven, take a present and compliment for once. We aren't in work, we aren't in the Agency, we aren't in a place where you must remain guarded. Let loose or I'm going to tag-team you with Kendel. And trust me, he's got the biggest dick you've ever seen. Feels like you're being split in two, and I should know!"

Sharven's eyes went wide for a moment, shocked in the truest sense of the word. He watched as Kendel grinned and stepped behind Vish, wrapping his arms around the smaller male and rubbing himself rudely against his owner.

Sharven's body was one moment stiff with tension, and then it melted into relaxed appreciation. "Fine, fine, you win."

Kendel rested his head on the orca's shoulder he was rubbing against, "Someone record this moment, Sharven conceded!"

Vish's hand playfully smacked the horse's nose, "Hey, no comments from the gallery, or I'll muzzle you."

"Oh, yeah," came the reply which seethed with sarcasm, "threaten me with a good time why don't you."

Vish shook his head and gave up, "Anyways, mingle, have fun. The public elevator is over there, but you can use the VIP one anytime, and its less crowded."

A long, relaxed dialog ensued between the four; all pretenses of social status had been wiped away by the atmosphere. Pavlor was asked about his old home, details being pried from his muzzle by the extreme inquisitive nature of Kendel's brain. He was poked and prodded, giving up details about his former life, what kinds of fun he had back there, how his life was now and if there was anything he wouldn't mind trying.

Kendel's imagination was much more twisted and perverse than Pavlor thought anyone's could be. Aside from his extreme and almost addictive obsession with sex machines, plants, tentacles and an assorted array of obscene sexual situations, he also had the brains and ability to program the holographic rooms to get everything just the way he wanted it. He even went so far as to show off the clientele list he sold them to.. Vish fronted as the "agent" since pets were strictly not allowed to be in business.

"...and this one guy," Kendel continued amidst the unbreakable attention Pavlor and Sharven were giving him, "wanted to have a turnip grow, swallow him whole and force-feed him prune juice while he was bathed in cum and made to hump a panther. Go figure, even that was a bit much for me."

"For you?" Vish said, "I was the one who had to test it. That prune juice was just not right."

They both laughed strongly, letting it die with a soft, elongated, high-pitched sigh. "But anyways," Kendel continued, "Why don't we head to the private rooms, and I can show you my specialty."

"Sure I'd love to!" Pavlor had already had two more drinks and was feeling slightly wobbly on his legs. Gregor had a good eye for the bar, and always had a new drink ready just as Pavlor arrived. He had had a steady flow of intoxication over the previous hour.

"You two go on," Sharven said, sitting in a stool next to Vish, "We'll come down in a bit and watch. I have a few things I want to talk to Vish about."

"It better not be about work, or I'm going to punch in!"

"It isn't. You two go on, we wont be but a few minutes."

Kendel grabbed Pavlors arm and tugged him through the crowds to the public elevator. He turned back just as he got there and whispered, "Public elevator is more fun, you get to watch everyone stare at you and fidget. These uniforms we wear mark us as VIP's, and it makes you all the more attractive to everyone."

The doors slid open and a few exited. They moved inside and were followed by a haphazard mix of species. What Kendel said was true, each one who saw them standing there were checking their bracelets, scanning the canine and equine, and looking most assuredly interested but silent.

The elevator went up a floor and they exited into a long corridor. There were seats lining the sides and a multitude of doors on the close end. On the far end were larger doorways. "Those are the public rooms," Kendel said pointing towards the end. "I like showing off my stuff there sometimes. That's how I get most of my clients. But we're headed for my private booth, here." They walked up to the first door on the right, which had Kendel's name embossed in gold. It opened for him and they stepped into the dark room.

"So, this is a holographic room?" Pavlor had seen far too many science fiction shows that insinuated such rooms could be dangerous, or at least very poorly written plot devices.

"Yes and no," he said, flitting his card into a slot in the dark room. "I'll explain later, but right now," he said, pulling off his leather suit, "best to be naked when it starts."

"Oh, right," Pavlor said, stripping off his suit and letting it crumple to the ground.

"Well then, hrm, shall we try," Kendel said, raising his voice, "Program Run, Sex Toy Factory Eight."

The room went entirely dark, and there was a loud, buzzing vibration in the room. The lights came up to show a small room that they were in. It was a cage; the top open and there was a thirty-five foot tall equine above them. He was wearing a lab coat and had oddly dulled features. He grabbed Kendel and lifted him up and then placed him on a small tray. From what Pavlor could see he was strapped down on the padded surface. He was then rubbed to an erection, had a small rubber sheath fastened over his dick and placed on a moving platform.

Pavlor was similarly brought up, strapped down, made hard and rubbery-sheathed. He growled happily up at the enormous horse, who smiled down and rubbed his head. He spoke, his words slightly synthetic. "You're going to make a lovely little toy, little puppy."

"Huh?" Pavlor asked, and began to feel his tray moving now astride Kendel's.

Pavlor couldn't see what was going on with the horse, but mechanical arms were moving around and loud, orgasmic moans were filling the huge room.

Suddenly a few arms came up over him, dousing him with power while one decided to attach itself to the rubber sheath over his penis. It slipped over the edge, jostled, then began rolling up and down his dick, stroking him with rubbery, ticklish nubs.

"Oh, oh fuck!" Pavlor blurted out. He felt his knot swelling and something grabbing it firmly. The arms then went away and while he was still being stroked, a muzzle came down over his face, covering his ears, eyes and mouth. A warm, slick goop began to fill the tray, coating him while the ticklish rollers were torturously manipulating him.

The goop hardened up around him then cracked in half down the center of his body. It was pulled away, the mold of Pavlor's frame with his hard, knotted dick now ready for its own special purpose.

The tray moved and tilted up, showing Kendel opposite him with his legs up and spread, a piston forcing some penis-shaped dildo up inside him while he was being squirted at from all sides by an unmistakable thick white fluid. He was groaning and humping the tube stroking his dick madly, and then whimpering as the pulsing inside the rubber sheath stopped.

Pavlor had no time to think, as his legs were grabbed and pulled up as well, an arm coming down with a thick equine shaft-like rubber appendage, which pushed against his tail and pressed inside.

He groaned out, his eyes closing in delight just as more penis shaped dildos around him began pulsing and spitting white pseudo-cum onto him. He quickly felt his pleasure rise, bringing him quickly to an orgasm.

Unfortunately, the orgasm didn't arrive. The suckling on his cock ended just seconds before he was ready to shoot. The white fluid kept spitting and running over him, and he opened his mouth to try and get some. It tasted exactly like cum, and one of the arms moved forward, pushing the flesh-like rubber into his muzzle.

Pavlor sucked down hungrily, whining deeply as the sensations began anew around his hard dick. He sucked strongly, having to work to get the fluid from the dildo. He groaned with need, pushing as best he could into the rubber around his dick, but again it denied him just before he was able to orgasm.

Again and again this happened, Pavlor's ears alternately catching his own, pained denied whimpers and Kendels'. Over and over he was teased, injected, sprayed on and denied his own orgasm. He was soon crying, feeling the need pricking at his every thought.

Hours it could have been, and Pavlor was caught in torturous bliss. Denied his orgasm while he felt the machine constantly teasing him with its own version of ejaculation. He was straining, tears mixing with the pseudo cum around him, until he was released from his bonds and dumped into a small, padded cell. He couldn't reach his dick; the rubber was covering him and preventing him from touching himself.

He looked around him to see a massive room, filled with animatronic robots, some shaped like him, cantering around with hard dicks and occasionally scuffling with another toy to mount and breed, along with copies of Kendel, plush bears, soft foamy ponies, rubber goriallas and other things. Nothing could describe a 'Sex Toy Factory' better than the image of life-sized plush toys and action figures running around screwing each other.

Something warm and fuzzy pressed against his back and mounted him. Indistinct teddy-bear arms gripped him while a rubbery, warm, slick bear dildo shoved its way up his tail. The plush-like animal used him, trying desperately it seemed to screw the dog but not being able to accomplish his goal. A few hundred pained strokes later, a huge hand yanked the bear off him. The large equine lifted up the toy, pulled the rubber off the plush's dick, jerked him off to an arm-shuddering and howl-inducing orgasm. The equine cleaned off his hand and packaged up the bear in a cellophane-windowed toy box.

More of the odd assortment of toys were trying now to take Pavlor, and he found it so easy to just lay there, raise his ass and let them all use him, despite their, or his, inability to achieve orgasm. Randomly hands reached down, picking up copies of him, Kendel or the other toys, jerking them off to loud, aching screams, and packaged up for shipment and sale.

After more than fifty or so had tried to relieve themselves in either Pavlor or Kendel, they were now the only two left. Hugging each other and humping madly against the devious rubber coverings, the hands came down and picked them both up. First Kendel was released from his sheath, his dick flopping out and utterly coated in precum. The fingers jerked him off firmly, only a half stroke was needed before the horse gasped, cried out in agony and shot his cum out. The fingers pinched and stroked him until he was done, and then pulled off Pavlor's sheathing.

His dick was similarly wet and slimy, a small gush of his precum soaking his fur. Fingers gripped his knot while another tickled the underside of his length. A second later Pavlor's vision exploded with stars, his body arching and his muscles expelling a huge and uncharacteristically thick load of sperm. He was held, fingers gripping his knot and tickling him until he was done.

They were then placed, exhausted and panting, back in the cage they had been picked up form. The big horse stood, up, stretched and said, "See you tomorrow. Time for me to go home," and left the room.

Sharven was there, in the small cage. He had already jerked himself off as he watched the action, a large glob of his cum splattered on the floor. He walked over to his dog, laying down and nuzzling into his side.

Sharven said, "We have lifetime memberships here, my love. You want to come back next week."

Pavlor's only response was a fatigued squeal of delight.