FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

My Master, The Wolf _ By ** __ **NikoKarro _

Master always knows how to treat me and how to keep me. I never really see him at all; I'm just confined to this dusty wooden all day. Everything I see is always dark, damp, and occasionally I hear dry tapping noises on the outside of the dusk-coloured oak. He moves me around a lot, sometimes pulling me out if he wants to play with me, with my paws, or any other part of me, but I'm never allowed to see exactly what he looks like.

About 4 months ago, I remember walking back to my mate's place in the night. We lived the trashy lives of an otter and fox with crappy low-paying jobs at the adult movie store down the strip a little. Work used to keep me pretty late anyway, but, you know, I kind of got a strange enjoyment out of the whole thing; practically giving folks the most pleasant evening money can buy, or at least some people liked to view it like that. As you can imagine from a really sketchy part of town, nothing seemed to settle down and everyone was always bustling and having a good time at the many bars and strip clubs around. Maybe it was best to avoid the whole scene but my interests lead me in from time to time.

The whole place was shockingly lively; bright flashing lights of many different colours and the uproarious cheers and dancing (not to mention puking) of all the people there. I looked to the bar, most of the patrons there being extremely drunk or passed out cold...'these people had the right idea', I remember myself pondering while thinking back to my roommate who was probably doing the same thing right about now.

"Hey, where's your bathroom?" I said innocently enough to the bored-looking tiger standing behind the counter.

Nothing was said, he seemed rather unwell to be honest. He raised his arm rather abruptly and pointed to a large door on the other side of the joint.

"Thanks," I offered sarcastically and made my way over to the bathroom.

As you might expect in one of these sorts of places, the bathrooms were nothing really to look at: the badly constructed cubicles and the dirty urinals probably gave this place an instant 'F' from the health inspector. I remember sitting myself down on the crapper, looking at the jizz stains on the floor and the dicks graffitied on the walls.

"Huh?" I asked myself, hearing a faint groaning noise, almost like panting.

I looked down at a gloryhole to the left of where I was sitting. From the attitude, I guessed it was a wolf on the other side, shoving his long, slimy tongue through the hole, ready to receive. Needless to say, I wasn't particularly interesting in 'dogging' (I know, I know, kill me) at all.

Surely I could just slip out and he wouldn't even notice; he was too busy with shoving his sweaty sheath through the hole. But...it was like he knew that he wasn't going to let me leave this place tonight. I could hear the sound of pissed-off growling and scrambling to unlock the cubicle and pursue me. Before I could really react I could feel....a sock? Something like that pressed to my nose and mouth. The chemicals said sock had been drenched in were seeping through into my system and I was blacking out before I knew what was even going on, or before I could even cry for help. I'm only a timid little fox, what could I even do against a wolf who was built like an ox. But now I'm here, in my box like a good slave. My arms and feet both restrained through holes making them poke out of this dusty little box, my body awkwardly crammed in here.

When he comes, he does things to me; when he tickles my feet, he leaves me in tears and absolutely sore all through my body. I end up laughing until my voice is hoarse and croaking. He runs his fingers up and down my soles, like he knows exactly what to do to them, pinching and prodding to get the best reactions from me. He likes to sniff them, shoving his snout between my toes, making me curl them a lot and then he moves, dragging his tongue along the length of my paws, soaking them in his sleek saliva and making me giggle and chuckle until I can't really feel my feet anymore.

It's like he knows when my cock is exploding with pleasure. He has a hatch which he reaches into so he can hook me up to some sort of vibrator and setting it to the highest level. I thrust my cock up against the box, trying to get some release but it's like it prevents me from cumming...all I want to do is be able to cum when he plays with me, when he subjects my feet to such endless tickle torment. I can't remember why he keeps me here anymore.

Sometimes, if I'm lucky, he'll keep a small machine at my feet and let it tickle me all night, making me laugh until I hurt all over, making me cry loudly as my body convulses against the punishment.I wanted to cry out for more when he left me, to play with me, to suck me off or to jack me off a little but, anything that would let me cum all over that big bad wolfy. I just had to bide my time, feeling my cock twitch and my feet shake... He must've thought I'd been scared but in fact I was excited and eager for more.

The End