FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

>Your rental bike arrives to the assignment center late, as it does most mornings. You don't complain, though: the bikes are working as intended. You should have simply slept less and arrived earlier. After all, you have the privilege of living in the most advanced sector in the NA Region:

>Sector COW

>You don't recognize any of the other guys in line as you all shuffle from the parking lot into the center: A3694B and A7654C must be late too. Or early.

>It's refreshing when you finally are inside, out of the baking sun. The reservoirs are low, so you could only rent half a bottle after yesterday's shift.

>More than you deserve.

>The dull sound of the assigners fills the cramped space as the line shuffles forward, everyone silent otherwise.

>When you finally get to the front, yours looks at you with dull eyes, scowling slightly.

>"This is the 3rd time you're late, A9999N," the skinny goat says, "You know what that means, right?"

>"Yes ma'am," you say sheepishly.

>"You'll be put on basic assignment," she says anyway, "If you're too busy to contribute to the sector's high-priority goals as you said you wanted to, then you'll provide basic support instead."

>She gives you a gesture you've only seen three times before as she clacks away at the keyboard.

>"I, A9999N, repent," you recite, "I am a human male, and it is my kind that have caused all the ills of this world. I know that Sector COW and all those within it seek only to improve the world and erase my flaws. I consent to this change in station."

>The small camera blinks a light at you, confirming you've done things correctly.

>"Please enter the transport pod," the goat sighs, the line having grown stale, "You'll be taken to your assignment shortly."

>You do so, and after 45 minutes in the narrow tube, a large wolf comes and grabs your tube. He doesn't speak much, like the rest of the male anthros: you know that they're special, and respect them all the same. He sets you down with the customary roughness into a chute; you roll down and find the bottom surprisingly empty. A pair of technicians, both felines, jump a little when you arrive and pull you out from the transport pod, sitting you on a cold metal table.

>"Alright, A9999N," one says, doing something on a computer while another prepares an odd-looking cart, "You're on milking duty."

>That's strange. You've done that before, and it wasn't on a cart.

>"There's a button on the cart near your left hand," the other technician says, showing you the big red circle, "If you push it, your supervisor will be notified. But that doesn't mean that they have to listen.

>This is very strange. This isn't at all like the previous time you did this job for the Sector.

>"Excuse my ignorance," you say, bowing your head, "But I don't recall this being the procedure the last time I was on milking duty. Has the Sector come up with a superior way?"

>The one by the cart groans; she's dark, and looks young.

>"You can cut that groveling crap," she says, "I swear, I--"

>The other technician, older, silences her with a look.

>"This is a... different milking duty," she says. "You'll be providing service for a Supervisor while they work. They'll explain the rest when you arrive."

>There's a soft 'ding' from the computer, and the technician lets out a sigh.

>"And it looks like it'll be Betty today."

>The two cats load you onto the cart, with is very strange: it's made of a very comfortable material, soft to the touch and cool. It seems contoured to you as you lay down on it, your arms and legs being strapped down in subtle channels. The button they were talking about is there, though you have to stretch to reach it-- it's difficult, too, given how your arms are strapped all the way out like a 'T.'

>Another male anthro takes you from them, wheeling the cart around a series of narrow hallways. You're not able to make out his species, with your head where it is.

>You find yourself a little sleepy: the material on the cart really is comfortable. You know you shouldn't be sleeping on assignment-- unless your Supervisor tells you to-- but you can't help yourself, and nod off.

>You wake to a loud crash of doors and a jolt as the cart rams through a pair of them. The room you enter is large and loud, the clattering of keyboards filling it along with the sound of voices. It's bright, with actual electric lights in the ceiling. Things are a little muffled from the fabric of your cart, but you think you hear people talking to you or at you. You can't do much about it, unable to move your head and respond, and you don't dare risk talking out of turn.

>Eventually, the cart stops, and your escort knocks on a door. It's answered, and you hear a feminine voice say "Ahh, good. Thank you."

>You're pulled into a new, more quiet room: there are still lights in the ceiling, but things aren't so painfully bright.

>"'A9999N,' a voice reads, "You're a pretty new one, then."

>A shape looms over you: she's the most sacred of species, a Cow!

>You attempt to get up and kowtow, but she giggles and touches your shoulder, steadying your struggles against your restraints.

>"Don't worry," she says, going back out of view, "you'll be paying plenty of homage to me today."

>Betty moves the cart around the relatively small room to a desk. There's another 'ding' of a notification, and she grunts, leaning over to address it. You notice that her breasts-- large as any other cow's, just like her-- are hooked up to tubes, the neck of her shirt pulled down below them.

>"Hit that red button for me," she says, looking down at you. You do as she says, and there's another 'ding,' this one sounding different, almost happy. She lets out a satisfied huff.

>"Looks like that works," she says, looking back down to you, "Now, you're going to be helping me today. Are you excited?"

>You nod: you're not worthy to speak in the presence of her, the species that built Sector COW and endeavors to enlighten the other parts of the Anthrostate.

>"Good," Betty says; she lifts one leg over you and the cart, standing over it. Her big, bovine behind hangs above you a she seems to adjust the carts position with her thighs, and you notice she's wearing nothing below her skirt.

>"You will be stimulating me down there while I do my work. You may press that button when you're out of air for these first few times, so I can get an idea of how long you can go," she says, seeming to have positioned everything to her liking, "But after that, I'll get unhappy. Understand?"

>She graciously lowers her rear so that it brushes against your face, allowing you to keep your silence. You nod against it, and she sinks down on you completely.

>The pressure is immense, but spread out as she settles in. You can feel her haunches covering you nearly to your wrists, and for a moment you simply sit there in awe. She's so soft, so warm... and she's a Cow. You, A9999N, are allowed to serve a Cow like this, personally, intimately.

>A hefty bounce from your Supervisor brings you back to your senses. "You alive down there?" she asks, "Get to licking."

>Licking?

>You wonder why others don't sign up for basic support all the time.

>You press your tongue out onto her soft flesh, lightly furred. She tastes good, better than a standard ration, if a little salty. As you're savoring it, however, your lungs remind you of their existence. You panic for a moment, struggling meekly before remembering the red button.

>She lifts briefly when you hit it, just long enough for you to expel a puff of air and quickly gasp in a breath.

>"30 seconds," Betty says, grinding down on you slightly, "Room to improve. And give me some more action down there, try moving your head."

>You do so, though her weight allows you to do so only a little. It seems to please her anyway: that's what you assume the noise she made was for as you feel her relax onto you.

>After about five more cycles of this, Betty lifts up a little longer, wanting to make sure you hear what she has to say.

>"Okay, now I don't want you to use that button. I know how long you'll last. Nuzzle in deep, A-N. You're doing good."

>You do as she says, her descending butt not giving you much choice. You wiggle your face in and are rewarded with a sigh as she relaxes, your tongue giving her pleasure. Your ordinary tasks, the advanced ones-- being on committees for machinery and systems you did not understand, deciding which crops would be planted when and where, helping design the latest round of Sector posters to promote moral and patriotism-- none of it compares to this.

>Again, your lungs intrude on your thoughts. By reflex you start to reach for the button, but Betty lifts up all on her own.

>"See?" she says, her voice trembling a little as she sits back down hard, "Good job. Keep going."

>You are all too eager... The world fades around you, the only thing you want or need being Betty's butt.

>It all begins to run together as she ascends and descends, pressing you deeper and deeper, her taste, her smell-- her-- becoming engrained into you.

>You don't even ask for a midday ration, happily licking away at her underside as she eats hers.

>The sound of the shift-change chime pierces even her thick cheeks, and she lifts up for good with a somewhat reluctant sigh.

>"Nice work, A-N," she says, looking at something while you pant and your eyes adjust, "I made 10 gallons!"

>She strokes your matted hair, leaning over you with a slightly sad face.

>"I hope I'll get you again tomorrow," she sighs before pulling away, "But there's no guarantee."

>She pushes your cart all the way under her desk then, and you find it leads to some kind of chute. As the darkness consumes you, you find yourself hoping for the same thing. Eagerly awaiting the one warm dark in your life...

>THIS FILM WAS BASED ON TRUE STORIES FROM SECTOR COW REFUGEES

>CITIZENS OF THE FREE SECTOR OF TX: BE VIGILANT

>ACCEPT HUMAN REFUGEES FROM SECTOR COW AND OTHERS LIKE IT; BE WARY OF ANTHRO IMMIGRANTS FROM SAID SECTORS

>The theme of Sector TX, an old-sounding number with brass and drums, played through the speakers as the film ended. An attendant stopped the tape, looking up to the muskrat that sat in the desk along with the others in the darkened room. She nodded slowly, a look of concern on her face.

>"It'll work as a base," she said, "Though I can't help but worry that some'll get the wrong idea."

>"How's that, Governor?" one of the members asked.

>"Well, it's erotic!" she said, blushing a little, "See if you can't have the more egregious parts cut out, both the visuals and the narration. This is meant as a warning for our sector, not an endorsement!"

>People wrote the request down, and half the room began to mobilize.

>"Governor," a human said quietly, seeming to slide through the chaos and come to her side, "I caution you: I believe that this may be too little, too late for TX."

>"How do you mean?" the muskrat asked the human, leaning in.

>"The film is as provocative as you said; Sector TX may already have had enough COW plants and sympathizers. And now they're hijacking their efforts at dissuading more."

>The muskrat frowned, he expression reflecting off his dark shades.

>"You may be right," she said quietly, "But I've got to believe that's not the case here in FL. Thank you again for your services."

>"Of course," the man replied with a bow, kissing the back of her palm. She giggled despite herself.

>"You're something else, ain't you?"

>"In my business," the quiet man said, holding her eyes, "You've got to be."