FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

Snow had fallen in my alleyway and for once I didn't care. Any other night I would be panicking, but not tonight. A layer of powdery snow covered my mattress, I brushed as much as I could aside with icy fingers and gathered a worn blanket around myself to huddle against the frigid concrete wall of a building. The filthy mattress was stiff and damp with cold. This year's winter was rough, and tonight was going to be a cold snap. One I was hardly prepared for.

But I had a plan. It wasn't a good plan, but it was a plan nonetheless. I was committed the moment the nearby shelter had turned me away. They were full, in a city as busy as Fowling that wasn't uncommon. The city was hailed as a progressive bastion due to its booming new age tech industry and high rates of education. Yet even here there was little care for those of us on the streets. Concrete spikes under overpasses, prickly metal rods across alcoves, anywhere there could be shelter; the city council spent more money hurting the homeless than helping us, letting that role fall onto the wealthy businessmen that populated the city. But that only led to misaligned aid that came in uncertain bursts and did little to make life easier.

That made us desperate. And too often desperation led to crime.

For the two years I'd been homeless, I tried to keep my faith alive. Before my parents kicked me out, I had a normal enough life. I believed that things would get better soon. If it were possible for me to have stayed in high school, I'd have graduated. I didn't want to be a criminal. My life still had some prospects, I was young and able-bodied. But my only other option for now was to wait and accept the scraps of the society around me. It was time for that to change, having turned eighteen a few weeks ago. On days like today, it was too easy to be resentful. Death was always closer than the care of another person. Depending on how low the temperatures got, how much it snowed, even things like the angle of the wind mattered so much to my survival. There was a real chance I could freeze tonight, my life forgotten like I'd seen happen to so many others.

After two years of letting that faith rot, I was finally ready to take my fate into my own hands.

I drew in a long breath, bracing myself for what was to come. Night had fallen some time ago and it was getting late. The Friday nightlife was busier than other nights. Loud, drunk pedestrians became increasingly frequent as they passed my alleyway by and judging by the ebbing car traffic, midnight was approaching.

My body ached as I started to move, I'd sat still too long and the chill had set in. I tucked my hands under the armpits of the hole-ridden parka I wore and started walking. I felt like a ghost as I strode out onto the street. Nobody noticed me, nobody cared to. I kept my head down, walking faster than the nightlife. Bubbles of gossip circled me, tipsy conversations and sudsy ramblings swirled around in a storm of information so useless it became frustrating to hear. To burden my mind while I was trying to stay focused on the task I'd set myself. I didn't want to believe I hated these people.

But they paid upwards of ten bucks for overpriced drinks in clubs, not knowing I could eat off of that much for three days. They were all swaddled up in hoods and scarves that on the coldest night of the year, they didn't mind walking the streets. Tonight they'd go home and lay in bed with each other, drunk and alive without a care in the world as they fucked. No part of me could relate to them, and no part of them could relate to me. I kept walking, leaving the hotspot of clubs and bars behind.

My blood was ice cold, fingers and toes numb despite the gloves and shoes I wore. My fur was thick, but not even a wolf's winter coat was suitable for a night like tonight. If I failed, frostbite or worse seemed likely but that only honed my conviction. I'd put myself in a position where I had to succeed or suffer and that was where I thrived. Seizing opportunity was the only reason I'd survived as long as I had.

It was why yesterday, when I'd been informed a house on Northside was at an awkward spot in renovations I knew what I had to do. For tonight and only tonight there'd be an unlocked door in the wealthiest suburb in the entire state. After questioning the lengths I'd go to survive for so long, I knew if I passed this opportunity up I'd always be asking myself 'what if?'. I wasn't sure what I would find inside, but I had a decent eye for market value. I wouldn't take much, it wasn't a heist. Just a taste of crime to ensure I'd live out the winter.

It took well over an hour to reach my destination on foot. I was shivering but I felt warm enough, my blood was flowing and that's what mattered. As far as Northside houses went, this one was pretty tame. No tennis court or outdoor pool or expansive garden. Instead it had a modest lawn, well-kept with some ornaments for decoration. An expensive sports car sat in the driveway, out in the open and that bugged me something fierce. The house had a garage, it even looked to be quite big, so why leave a car like that out in the open? These people had no shame, or no fear, or both. My heart started racing as I stalked around the side of the house. I wasn't having doubts but concerns were building. I had faith in my ability to move silently, but what if they had cameras or something? I lifted the fraying hood of my parka over my head. It wasn't much of a disguise but it was all I had.

By the bright light of the moon the entire backyard was illuminated. A wall of glass sliding doors filled the back of the house, big crosses of tape covered the glass but didn't interfere with the locks. I held my breath, covering my hand with my sleeve as I squeezed at the mechanism and pushed the door. Moment of truth.

It slid open. I was giddy. I ducked under the tape and entered, sliding the door shut quietly behind me. It was warm in here. Central heating. A shiver wracked my body as I processed just how cold I really was. I knew I should hurry, but I needed a moment to rest from the walk over. I sat on the floorboards, too spooked by the sound the furniture might make. I was in a dining area, a heavy wooden table had been pushed back against the far wall, the table and chair set looked antique. The sort of thing that would squeak and groan. A cabinet of curios was beside of the table, I perused it from a distance with my heart in my throat. Anything of value and I could be out immediately. But it all looked sentimental. Photos of mixed feline cubs with big fangs. Small glass sculptures that looked cheap. Candles and other junk lined the shelves. Against the side of the cabinet what looked to be a framed painting covered by a sheet of cloth rest. It was tempting to consider, but too big, too difficult to sell and possibly worth nothing.

Once I'd warmed I took careful steps deeper into the house, feeling out every floorboard as I went. There was creaking, it was inevitable. But I paced myself so any sound might be indistinguishable from the creaks and groans a house would make at night. I passed into the closest room, a living room. A huge flat screen TV filled one of the walls opposite a modular couch and a coffee table that hosted a bouquet of flowers in an expensive-looking vase. The vase was tempting, but it seemed heavy and would be difficult to carry. I kept searching. There were more paintings in this room, and as best I could tell in the dim light they might actually be worth something.

It was peculiar to step into a stranger's space like this. Everything was neat and tidy, it all had a purpose in why it was there and it wasn't my place to deduce why. All I cared to see was the value, what would be easy to carry, what would keep me alive.

A set of stairs filled the corner of the room which went down to a basement. I figured it best to search low first then work my way up as I swept what parts of the house I could. Progress down the stairs was painfully slow. I could feel them budging under my weight, every step came with its own set of squeaks and creaks.

And then the second last step gave an awful squeal as I stepped on it, like a nail rubbed right against the wood. I froze. Tempted to dash for the glass doors and flee. My heart pounded in my skull as I waited for any sounds above me but nothing came. I must've stood there for fifteen minutes because my legs were aching by the time I felt safe enough to keep going. The stair squealed again as I stepped off of it. I winced and waited on the final stair a moment. By some mercy the basement was kept separate by a door. With caution I nudged it open slowly, feeling for any resistance that might indicate a sound but there was none before I had enough space to slip in and silently shut it behind me.

I waited a few moments longer, ears keen for any sounds but none came. With a door that was difficult to see from anywhere but the bottom of the stairs behind me, I felt safe enough to turn the lights on. The basement was a study of sorts, smaller than I had expected. The lone room was carpeted and warm. Bookcases filled one wall, lined with books about business, economics and programming. There was a desk stacked with folders and a small laptop. My eyes lit up.

Perfect. At minimum a laptop would be worth a few hundred. A smile filled my face as I sauntered over to the desk.

Something thudded on the floor above me. I scrambled back to the light switch and plunged myself back into darkness. My heart pounded in my chest as I crouched by the door, ears perked. More thuds. Footsteps. I gulped long breaths. I tried to tell myself they might have got up to go to the bathroom or any other reason. But I wasn't certain. Had I been too cocky? Probably. But I wasn't caught yet. So I waited in the corner behind where the door would cover if someone opened it. Anxious thoughts buzzed about my mind, I did my best to shut them down. But the footsteps kept coming. They circled the floor above.

A rift of dread tore open in my chest as the first stair creaked. I went still, not even breathing as heavy footfalls boomed towards me. The second last stair squealed. The door flung open, right into my face. I grunted, clutching at my nose as I stumbled into the middle of the room. Harsh light shone right into my eyes. It took me a moment to adjust. I still wasn't breathing. Terror chomped at my gut as I started to see the silhouette behind the light. A massive feline held their phone up at me, its flashlight on and pointed at my face. I expected something to happen, but nothing did. My eyes adjusted. It was a guy, he'd been sleeping naked. There was something almost funny about it, as my vision cleared enough to see his genitals hanging free. But there was anger etched into his jaw.

Panic erupted within me as I recognized him. I'd seen him in local newspapers with some frequency, he was the CEO of a tech start up that became an overnight success and surged up the global market. And here he was, naked and bleary eyed. Staring at me in his phone's light with a look of sheer disbelief on his face.

He was huge, a sabretooth built of rippling muscles. His fangs as big as my skull. And the longer he stared at me unblinking, the more he realized what little threat I posed to him. His eyes dropped to my hands, then my waist as he scanned me for a weapon I didn't bring.

Why didn't I bring a weapon? He must've weighed at least twice as much as me. I stood no chance.

"What are you doing?" His voice was laced with anger. "Who are you?"

I didn't answer, I couldn't. He'd caught me in the worst possible place. This room was a dead end and his muscular body covered the only exit. I was terrified, thoughts running at a lightning pace trying to evaluate my options.

I had few.

"Answer me." He squared up, the tiredness about him faded as he straightened his posture. His claws grew from the tips of his fingers. But he was smart. He didn't move from the doorway. I didn't like my odds of trying to scurry past him if he did move, but they were infinitely better than him walling off my only escape.

I raised my paws. I was shaking, breathing heavy. My face hurt. My knees buckled. It wasn't meant to be like this.

His brow creased as I dropped to the floor. I couldn't think straight. I was tired and my thoughts were spiraling. I couldn't look past this foolish belief I held that he shouldn't care if I took anything, that he was so rich he could replace it without a worry. But we were in his study. He did business here. That laptop I'd almost stolen likely held industry secrets worth obscene amounts of money. The more my eyes adjusted to the light pouring out of his phone the more I realized how screwed I was.

Fight died within me. I couldn't do this.

"Sorry." My voice was shaky, it was all I could offer him. I needed this to end, I needed to get out.

He squinted at me. "Sorry? You broke into my house." He hissed. "And I don't think it's a coincidence you're in my work room. Tell me, who are you and why you're here." I went still. Heart racing. "Did Cruelo send you? Trevatz?" He listed a few other names, I wasn't sure who until he mentioned a company I was familiar with. Then it made sense. He thought me an actor of his business rivals.

I shook my head. He stopped to stare at me once more. With every rushed breath I felt smaller and smaller as he shone the bright light of his phone straight into my eyes.

I tried my best to gather myself, to rack my brains for any way out. I knew his company gloated about its charity. I'd even eaten at soup kitchens funded by his money. He could be sympathetic to my plight.

Or, he could be a greedy monster trying to pass himself off as anything but.

"I needed cash." I trembled as I spoke. "I was starving, it's so cold." I whimpered.

His expression twisted into a sneer.

"Horseshit."

My heart sunk.

"No, please." I shuddered, there were tears in my eyes. This felt more hopeless by the moment. "I know someone. Her cousin works for the builders doing your doors. They told her and she let slip this would be an easy place to get into. That's all." I sniffed, staring at him with pleading eyes. "I only wanted something valuable to sell. That's it."

The sneer dropped off his face. "People play dirty in Fowling," he muttered. "But even this is a little low for them." He exhaled and scratched at his chest. "I can smell you from here. Are you homeless?"

I gave a rushed nod.

He sighed.

Relief damn near pushed the tears from my eyes.

Satisfied he didn't believe me some agent of corporate espionage, he relented. "Alright. I'm calling the cops." He said it almost casually, like he didn't consider me a threat. And why should he?

That relief shattered into a thousand pieces.

"Stop. Please. I just turned eighteen. You can't call the cops, they'll lock me up."

The sabretooth hesitated. And that gave me hope. He must have understood in some capacity what it was like. "You broke into my home." And though he sounded peeved, there was something almost fatherly there like he was advising me that learning my lesson was far more important than what I'd done.

"Let me go, I'm sorry. Please. You can't... you don't know what it's like." It was a trick I'd learned. People who were sympathetic enough to grasp some parts of the bleak reality of being homeless were receptive to the idea they didn't actually get it at all. I was breathing heavy, panic ate at my sensibilities. I could rush him. Try slip past him, make enough distance and escape. But he was big, strong, and he wasn't going to let me without a fight. A fight I'd lose.

I didn't fancy getting tackled by this naked beast of a man.

He sighed again, heavier this time. "I'm not sure what to do then."

I could tell he was guilting himself over the prospect. Something about him shifted. I kept pushing. "Not the cops. Please just let me go. I won't do this again, I promise."

"I want to believe you." He frowned. "But I also want to help you. The cops will look after you."

Not good. He had to believe me.

"No!" I tensed. "They won't, they treat us so bad, please you can't. They'll hit me. They always do. They hate us. Call us their mess, their problem. They don't want us off the streets, they want us dead." There were fearful tears in my eyes.

He made a pained expression. "I don't have any other option, do I?"

"Let me go." I was pleading.

"I can't. You'll end up breaking into someone else's place or freezing out there. It's so cold tonight." He rubbed at his forehead, clearly flustered. "I'm sorry but, it's going to have to be the cops. That way I know someone will be watching you."

"Please." I shuddered. I'd lost that thread of guilt, he'd made up his mind. "You can't. You don't understand."

"Sorry." He unlocked his phone.

"I'll do anything." I scoured the room for something I could swing at him and try run. But there was nothing in reach.

Which left one final option. The last thing I knew I was capable of.

My eyes dropped between his legs, where his flaccid cock hung over his fuzzy nuts. His balls were swollen and heavy, he mustn't have had a lot of action lately.

Good. Maybe that'd make it easier to convince him.

"I'll suck you off if you let me go." I spoke hushed.

He froze. Slowly, he looked up from his phone. "What?"

I stared at his dick. I'd never done it before. I absolutely didn't want to. But I would. "I will suck your penis. Make you feel good."

He folded his arms, peering down at me. I stared in his eyes. There was movement in my periphery. His cock throbbed. Nerves ate at my guts. I wasn't gay. I was a virgin. I knew enough about sex but I'd never done anything myself.

"Put it in my mouth." I stuck out my tongue, trying to sound a little sexy, anything to make it happen. "You want that right?"

He fidgeted, but the growing erection between his legs betrayed him. He dropped a hand to it and frowned. I thought he was going to say something, the way he leered at me. I expected ridicule, some swift insult.

Clearly I misunderstood.

He walked over to me. I nearly jolted to my feet to make a run for it, but I hadn't the courage to try.

"Keep quiet." His voice dropped. He held the base of his dick and put it in front of my face. I could smell him, all musky and masculine. And then I was terrified I wouldn't know how to please him. But I'd come this far. I'd try.

I leant forward and put my mouth on his head. The taste was unpleasant. Salty, and strange, probably residue from his piss. But even that was worth enduring if it meant a way out.

"Oh yeah." He moaned, shoulders sinking as he put a hand on my head.

His cock was still growing. I could feel it throbbing against my tongue. He exhaled, shaking his hips as he stretched. "Use your tongue pup." He grunted as I started lapping at him. His cock kept growing fatter until it was almost too big for my mouth. I was struggling. The more he moaned the more intimidated I felt.

If he wasn't holding my head I would've bitten as hard as I could and ran. I didn't trust what would happen if I tried now. I was along for the ride, whatever was going to happen would happen. I wasn't sure what I was even doing. My understanding of oral sex ended after putting one's penis in someone's mouth felt good. I'd seen porn before, I knew to bob my head but nothing about that felt natural.

Especially around a cock that fat.

I hadn't expected this to be a challenge. I thought it would be easy. I backed off of him, still lightheaded from the panic before this. He rubbed himself across my snout.

"First time?" He grinned down at me. I nodded, staring at his erection. He was bigger than me, at least seven inches but it was the fattest cock I could imagine. The shaft was already thick enough but it blossomed into a massive mushroom cap I was surprised even fit in my mouth. "Silly situation to end up in then hmm?" He chuckled as he swatted my cheek with it. It could've been a bludgeon. It stung. He squeezed a bead of precum out.

I wasn't sure when he'd put his phone on the floor by his foot, the screen was face up. It cast less light than the torch on the back, but it was still enough to illuminate all the ridges on his cock. He had his keypad up with 911 predialed. A reminder of what awaited. Desperation guided me, I licked at the precum. It had a sweet quality to it that might've been pleasant if I wasn't lapping it off of some rich dude's dick to save my ass. Still, I much preferred it to the previous flavor. I clenched fists as I put my muzzle around him once more, trying to find something comfortable. I sucked at him, lapped at the underside of his dick. He scratched behind my ears, possibly encouragement.

I wasn't sure what I was doing, but he was into it. He groaned, bucking his hips once. Feeling his cock slide across my tongue made me jerk back. Didn't like that. Didn't like that at all. If he wanted to choke me with it, he could and I wouldn't be able to stop him. I stared up at his face, a string of spit connecting my lips to his cock. He purred at the sight of me, another glob of pre leaked out of his slit.

"Sexy." He scratched at my ears again. "Go on." He pushed his cock against my lips. "Get me off and you'll get what you want, puppy."

I wasn't sure if that discomforted me or not. I think all I cared for was getting out of here, and if these were the terms of my escape then I was glad he enjoyed it. I got a little more adventurous and tried to take him a little deeper.

He moaned. "Mmf. That's it." His hands cupped either side of my face. I tensed back. "Relax, relax." He gently rocked my head, moaning as he rubbed himself over my tongue. "You feel so good." He grunted. My paws came to rest on his wrists, still resisting his use of my head. "Not going to hurt you." He cooed, his breath getting a little heavy. "Just helping me help you." He had the softest touch with how he worked my mouth over his cock. I started to let him. He kept leaking precum onto the back of my tongue, it was getting to be a bit much.

I swallowed, careful not to nick him with my teeth.

His entire body tensed as he groaned at the sensation of it.

"Starting to like it?" He grunted. "Like what I taste like? What I feel like?" He released my head. "I like what you feel like. Go on puppy, finish me off." He stared down at me with a look of complete adoration.

He trusted me.

And I almost bit him.

But I didn't. He sounded close. I went down on him. He started purring as he teased one of his nipples. I could feel his eyes on me as I bobbed up and down on him. He started panting and made slight movements with his hips. Then he was growling and I had to hold still because he was thrusting into my mouth.

"Going to cum." He grunted. I leant away, he started jacking himself right over my face. He trembled as he fisted his cock.

The sabretooth groaned and shot his load all over me, I could feel him shaking. His hot breath on my face as he leant over me, rumbling. Spurt after spurt of dense cum jetted onto my face, my fur, my clothes.

There was a sharp intake of breath, followed by the sound of something heavy clattering against the floor.

"Brock!" A woman's voice shrieked. "What- is... who the fuck is that?"

My heart sunk in my chest. Brock stiffened, standing up straight as he spun around. "It's not, it isn't..." He went quiet. There was cum still oozing from the slit of his cock. I watched as his tail fell, unsure what to do with myself.

A long moment stretched out between the three of us. I wanted nothing more than to slink away, this was both awkward and dangerous now.

"Let me explain." Brock's voice cut lower, shame obvious. "He's a thief, he broke in, tried to steal from us."

I couldn't see the woman who'd found us, but from the frantic breathing she was either furious or crying. Or both. "You promised me this would never happen again." There was something hard in her voice. "What the hell kind of lie is that even?" Rage nipped at her words.

"It's the truth." Brock's hands were trembling. "Please darling, I wouldn't..."

"You already did." Hesitant footsteps drew closer.

I curled up in a ball, trying to ignore the sensation of the feline's cum clinging to my clothes and fur. I didn't want her to see my face.

She gasped again. "How old is he?"

I covered my eyes with a paw, panic rising in my chest. If she thought I was underaged it was just another reason to call the cops.

"He's eighteen." Brock mumbled. "Please let me explain. Please, it's not like that, it-"

She slapped him hard across the face. I jolted to my feet, eyes wide and hands raised in case I was next. She was a lioness, tall, proud and muscular. Threatening despite the lavender nightgown. She stared right at me, claws extended and fury on her face. "Why are you here?"

I choked on my words, trying to wring a lie out of my thoughts. I could do this if she doubted him. Anything to avoid the cops. "I met Brock at a gas station and sucked him off for twenty, told me there'd be more if I came here tonight." A nervous smile curled my lips back but guilt ate away at me. Brock seethed.

He'd been so gentle with me. I really did think he would have let me go.

"Liar." He hissed, massive fangs bared. Blood trickled down his cheek from three shallow gashes.

The lioness clenched a fist. "Take your whore and get out of here." She grabbed me by the front of my parka and threw me into Brock's arms. The sabretooth tensed and for a fretful moment I thought he was going to bite me. I could feel his anger beating in his chest. I leant forward, about to sprint for the open doorway. If I found an exit there was a chance I could escape and leave them to their mess. Instead Brock's hand gripped my wrist. He dropped his head and pulled me behind him as he climbed the stairs. He was strong. Way too strong for me. I couldn't even try bite his hand to make my escape from how he pulled me out of reach. I could hardly even move fast enough to follow him.

Without a word he dragged me into his bedroom where he gathered some crumpled clothes from the floor and then exited through the front door, still naked. He fished keys out of the pocket of the pants he gathered and unlocked the sports car in his driveway. "Do you have anywhere to go tonight?" he asked, voice a rough mix of anger and shock.

I shook my head, trying to pull my arm back.

He sighed, uncertainty cracked the anger on his face. "Neither." He shivered in the icy night and dragged me to the passenger side of the car. He opened the door for me, boxing me in between his car and the street with his body. His fingers were shaking as he let go of my wrist. "This is the sort of night the homeless freeze to death. I can't just let you go."

I stared back at him, uneasy. "Was that your wife?"

Brock nodded, unable to speak as tears spilled from his eyes. "Just get in." He nudged me towards the plush leather seating without any force behind it. Without any other options, I took a seat. The leather was freezing. Brock shut the car door and took a moment to pull his clothes over himself.

I considered running then, it was the perfect chance to. Perhaps I should've. But I was tired and the thought of running out into the frigid night was too much. Sitting in a fancy sports car was something new as well. Part of me wanted to see what was about to happen.

When he sat in the driver's seat, he turned on the car and collapsed over the steering wheel, breathing heavy as the tears stopped falling down his cheeks. Then he went silent, and I could tell he was thinking by the way he nodded slightly to himself.

He sat up, and there was an unnerving smile on his face. I couldn't place why. He'd just been tearing up, just been kicked out of his own home.

The engine purred to life.

I stared at him, guilt bordering on nausea. He jabbed a finger at some buttons and turned the heating on. He leant back and opened the top of the wide armrest between us. He drew out a hand towel and passed it to me. "Clean my spunk off of yourself please." His voice wavered. "I can't blame you for lying."

That only unnerved me further. Yes, he could blame me. He should even, so why not?

I stuffed my face in the cloth, amazed by how soft it was and rubbed myself clean. He was watching me.

"What's your name?" he asked.

"Mutt." I frowned. I didn't like this. Not one bit.

"Is that your legal name?"

"No."

Brock sighed. "Listen, Mutt." He brushed a finger over the gashes on his cheek, they hadn't bled much. "I get it. You must be so afraid, or angry or both. I'm upset, but the only way tonight gets any worse is having your suffering on my conscience. You say the cops will hurt you? Alright, I believe you. If you weren't that desperate you wouldn't need that towel."

By now the aircon was starting to warm up. As well as the seats, which was something I hadn't expected. But of course, no expense would be spared by any of the elite in Fowling. I was fortunate Brock clearly felt guilted by something, perhaps a combination of his ideals and his success. These were the sort of people I knew I should cling to. Guilt was the most effective motivator for encouraging someone's charity.

"There's... a motel not far from here." He sounded embarrassed. "They know me. Been there a lot. It's warm, you'll be safe there." He started reversing out of his driveway. I eased into the heated seat, every muscle down my back shed its tension.

"What about your wife?" The words jumped out of my mouth, still trying to understand the last two minutes of my life.

He clicked his tongue. "You're making it difficult." He cleared his throat. "I want you to trust me, so I'm going to tell you... a secret, I guess." He glanced over at me as he turned into the street. "I'm gay, and she knows it."

A puzzled look filled my face. His eyes were sharp with lust.

His voice dipped to a silky purr. "Mutt. You're gorgeous. And I want you to know that."

He started accelerating. The car doors locked.

I stared at him, nerves aflame in my chest.