FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

Cherno had a choice between the inviting warmth of an unfamiliar bar, from which spilled the golden glow of lights, raucous chatter, and the soothing tones of a live jazz ensemble, and a few more blocks of cold, icy streets doused in dreary winter blue. Which was to say, he didn't have much of a choice at all. Almost everything was closed for the blizzard, and that silly buck was reaping the rewards of his foolish time mismanagement. He thought he could get home before it truly started blowing, but instead he was left to crunch through unplowed streets, up to his knees in fresh snow, feeling as if even his hooves had frozen inside his boots. His visibility was limited to just a few feet in front of him, and in the haze of the storm, the light of the fine establishment seemed like a miracle. The name above the doors couldn't have been more fitting.

Oasis.

The heat spilling out onto his face made him feel like he was a melting ice sculpture for a few moments. He wasn't in the most flattering of states for stepping into a classy establishment, but the two hulking security guards didn't give him more than a passing glance. They stood just in the entranceway, raccoon on one side and black cat on the other, dressed in form-fitting dark suits and ties, thick arms folded over their chests, stern looks on their faces. And their intimidation factor was only slightly diminished by the fact they were wearing cute little hats and mittens to help stave off the cold that blew in through the entrance. He saw their eyes give him the once-over, but their bodies never moved, as if they were nothing more than statues. Once he'd unfurled himself from his scarf, the melting snow dripping from it, and stomped off his boots a few times, he made his way inside with a huff of relief, the life slowly returning to his numb fingers and nose alike. It wasn't until he ascended the steps and into the bar itself that he felt the silence hit him like a sledgehammer to the gut.

They were all looking. Every single patron and staff member alike had stopped what they were doing to regard the deer as he stood frozen by the sudden anxiety that came with all that attention. He felt like he'd been cornered by a pack of wolves, and that wasn't entirely untrue. A great big black lupine dressed mostly in biker leathers was giving him something of a nasty grin, regarding him from where he sat behind a stein, filled to the brim with dark liquor. Perhaps even more threatening was the intensely icy gaze coming from a nearby husky, sitting by herself with a half-empty bottle of expensive vodka and a shot glass. The scrutinizing stare was intense even for her species, amplified by a pair of blue eyes colder than the storm he'd just escaped. He ended up locking with them for a moment before being forced to turn his attention to the floor. Nobody spoke or even so much as coughed for a full ten seconds, then twenty. By half a minute, Cherno was ready to turn his tail and prance right back out the way he came. Surely a record-breaking blizzard was more welcoming than the overwhelming feeling of being somewhere he absolutely didn't belong.

There was one bright face among the fierce, threatening individuals all around him. She was dressed all in black like most of the patrons, but her cheerful expression exuded welcome where it lacked on the features of every other drinker watching him. His attention snapped to the colourful frog - or perhaps toad - behind the well-stocked bar, backed by dozens, perhaps a hundred different bottles of various sizes and shapes. When her smile wasn't invitation enough, she ushered him along with a wave of her hand. Maybe she cast a spell on him, or more likely she was just very good at her job, because he felt his legs moving all on their own, as if his body was compelled to accept the call of liquor when presented by such an appealingly friendly-looking bartender. A great wave of relief washed over him when he heard the chatter continuing, the terrible silence finally broken by a few initial voices and then the rest as he clunked his way across the shiny hardwood floors of the old-style pub. The moment was over.

The usual ruckus continued behind him as he greeted the sweet-looking amphibian with a mildly dazed expression on his face. His cheeks were flushed, and his eyes weren't fully in focus, but he could see her grinning at him.

"Hi, friend. Don't mind the reception. Buncha regulars around here would do well to be more welcoming to newcomers!"

She spoke it just loud enough for others to hear, receiving some general grumbling amid the crowd. Someone with a harsh, guttural voice snarled a "fuck off" at her and followed it with a chuckle like a smoker's cough. The bartender flipped him off without even so much as a crack in her smile, before turning back to Cherno.

"And what can I get ya?"

"Um ..."

He hadn't actually been thinking about drinking that night. It just happened that the only warm place in sight was a bar. Even without all those eyes upon him, he suddenly felt self-conscious about his internal encyclopedia of alcoholic beverages. He was pretty sure that someone was going to judge him for ordering the wrong thing. Maybe they'd even throw him out if he requested something from the wrong brand, or something. It all filled him with enough anxiety that he sighed with relief when the frog waved off the decision for him.

"Aw, what am I talking about? Let me pour you something you'll love. On the house, of course."

Cherno didn't get a chance to protest before he was watching the elaborate display of a tricky inverted pour before him. Then he had a glass in front of him, filled with something dark and three chunks of ice. It smelled strong, if somewhat enticing. A curious sip hit him with a smooth, if alcoholic taste, leaving his tongue tingling, and a distinct warmth running down his throat. It felt as if it was spreading to his fingertips, lulling him into a laid-back, sleepy state, forgetting all about the storm outside. In a single gulp, he felt as if he was at home, among familiar friends or family, and his attention was more focused on the pleasant voices behind him. The laughter, the drunken professions of camaraderie, the raucous slaps on the back among friends. Okay, yeah, he was kind of drunk by the time he was tapping the ice against his lips, knocking back the last drops. Or at least, buzzed enough that he didn't hear the figure sneaking up on him until his cervine instincts lit up across the board, launching him straight to high alert.

His fight or flight instinct clamped down hard on his every muscle as soon as he glanced over his shoulder to spot the beast behind him, leaving him in a state of petrification that ensured he wasn't doing any fighting or flying anytime soon. There was a lion there, and not just another anthro, but a four-legged hulk of a predatory cat standing there in the middle of a crowded bar as if Cherno had somehow been transported by that drink to the open plains of the feline's usual hunting grounds. The maned figure looked at him with a passive expression, his golden eyes betraying little of his intent, whether aggressive or not. All the buck could do was gape as he held as still as possible, as if he might go under notice if he showed no signs of life. The lion gave him an upwards nod.

"Sup."

It wasn't the vicious snarl of predatory intent Cherno expected, but that didn't do much to quell his instinctual fear. The lion continued on, his golden mane tossing as he made a simple gesture with his head, indicating something behind him.

"Boss wants to see you."

"Me?"

"Uh huh. She's been looking for you. Or someone like you, anyway. Maybe you'll be the one."

The lion wasn't exactly exuding patience, by his gruff demeanour, and he wasn't offering much in the way of explanation either. Cherno glanced away from the big cat with some effort, not enjoying the feeling of having that death machine in his peripheral, but there was something else that caught his attention. He hadn't noticed upon entering, but there was a window above the whole establishment. A floor-to-ceiling pane of glass had a flickering orange light behind it, though he couldn't make out anything on the other side but for a dark silhouette. The shadow of a feminine figure stood slightly hunched over to one side, luxuriantly leaning on a cane. Two tall horns made whoever it was look look a little like the shadow of the devil.

"Don't keep her waiting," came the lion's voice. "Follow."

Cherno wasn't sure he liked that tone, but he was in no position to argue. He rose There was a flight of stairs, as well as an elevator leading up to that second floor office, but he couldn't even see a call button. The lion made his way up the stairs, taking them three at a time, and Cherno trotted behind, feeling at the same time naked and so very warm in all those clothes. That position left him getting a good eyeful of the lion's balls, which just made the silent march that much more awkward. The big cat pushed a paw against a door painted dark violet, one adorned with a golden knocker that didn't look unlike himself, revealing the depths of an office illuminated only by the roaring fire crackling away to one side. The figure was still standing at the window when they entered together, and didn't turn to look just yet.

"Thank you, Nanji. You may leave us."

It took some time for Cherno's eyes to adjust to the lower light, which meant he got his first impression of her from the sound of her voice. It was that of an older woman, smooth yet stern, with a lightly musical accent making her seem at least a little friendly. Just as quickly as he'd entered, the lion departed again. The door clicked, and the buck blinked several times, finally getting a good look at the slender, yet curvaceous figure standing before him. She was no devil - but she certainly had an impressive set of horns. Her tri-colour patterns, all black, white, and gold, tipped him off to her exotic species. He'd seen an oryx before, but not one who carried herself with such a regal presence. She was clad in an all-black dress that hugged her in all the right places, expressly accentuating the mature, womanly assets she had in abundance. Her grey-streaked hair was pulled back neatly, and her dark eyes had an intimidating depth to them as she looked across the muffled crowd below, like a queen considering her domain.

The only sound for a time was the crunch of shifting logs, burning brightly atop a stone hearth. He got a good look at her office in those moments, from the framed photographs of everything from sprawling towers, to old castles, to the wild savanna. A distant bookshelf was stocked with everything from law textbooks to a collection of essays on moral philosophy. A tall grandfather clock had been silent until then, giving an impressive TOCK as its bigger hand shifted a sixtieth of a rotation. There was a puffy black couch near the fire, and in the middle of the floor, a dark emerald carpet that stretched across much of the room, embroidered with an elaborate knotted design that he could swear he'd seen before, somewhere else in the city. Maybe several places.

"You are very brave to be navigate a storm like this one. Perhaps your nose guided you here?"

It wasn't until he saw the trace of levity in her eyes that he realized she was teasing him. Her lips didn't betray her amusement. She still hadn't moved. He wasn't sure what it was about her that had him feeling so vulnerable. The big cat was gone. She wasn't any taller than him, and didn't look like a particularly threatening physical specimen. And yet, simply standing in her presence had him blushing, to the point that he couldn't help but babble out some sort of apology for any offences he could have possibly been causing just by being there.

"Ah, I'm really sorry if I stepped into some sort of private thing. I've never been in here before, and I just saw the lights, didn't mean to interrupt or anything -"

She didn't so much as gesture, but her words were firm enough to cut him off mid-sentence, despite their forgiving nature.

"Don't worry. I'm glad you found your way here. I might never have laid eyes on you if I hadn't. And that would be a shame."

He felt his cheeks going warm, and they were only getting hotter when she turned to face him. A quick scan up and down her body was something he couldn't help, especially when it was so hard to meet her eyes. In his glancing, he paused to briefly stare at her groin. Was that a bulge? He didn't get a chance to consider it any longer before she was approaching, taking just a few slow steps, favouring one leg over the other. The cane wasn't just for show, it seemed.

"No, Cherno Silva, of 34 Redwood Terrace, I suspect if not for this unexpected encounter, our paths might never have crossed. And I doubt you know who I am."

She offered her hand, and he regarded it for a few moments, his mind racing. Just how did she already know so much about him? That much information was easy to find out, no doubt, but there was still something about the way she said it that made his heart beat a little faster. It was a statement. A simple demonstration, one that implied she knew much more. But he remembered what the lion told him. He wasn't going to keep her waiting. With an unsteady trot, he tapped his way over, avoiding the carpet in his wet boots while he reached out to take her hand. She squeezed taut, and shook twice before letting him go.

"Dairinn Donegan," she said, and he was left wondering where he'd heard that name before. "Mostly simply call me 'boss,' but I will not insist. Not until I've earned it."

There was a flash of something in her eyes as she said that, and Cherno was left to silently nod as if he understood entirely. His feet were still frozen to the ground as if overtaken by the grip of ice, but in truth he was warm to the point of sweltering, overdressed, as he was. The fire blazed, bringing him to a sweat that was more than simple nervousness. She seemed to anticipate his need, and she didn't bother to ask before she reached out and wound his scarf around her wrist, twirling it smoothly from his neck and throwing it about her own shoulders. It looked better on her.

"You are overdressed for our meeting. Fix that."

She spoke with the casual authority that came with knowing he had no other choice. It was hardly an order, but he felt compelled nonetheless to do exactly as she said. There were numerous overarching threats left unspoken in that situation, even if he wasn't sure if she would truly let him come to harm. And he did feel uncomfortable in all that winter clothing. 'The boss' stood with an expectant aura radiating from her, and Cherno just kept going, the longer she watched. First it was a matter of throwing back his hood, unzipping his heavy jacket, letting himself have a little air. But her demeanour didn't shift, so he continued on, shrugging off that coat, hopping out of his boots and gloves, getting himself stripped down to the dry clothes beneath his outer layer. A look to her face, and she had hardly moved, silently asserting that he wasn't done. So off went his sweater, and there he was, casually dressed before her, showing the first glimpses of his fur, giving her a hopeful glance to see if she was satisfied. She was not.

"Cherno. Do not insult me. All of it, please."

"Oh ..."

With that, he happily accepted her guidance, knowing he couldn't refuse without ... something happening. What that might have been, he still had no idea, but the thought lingered over his head as surely as a guillotine, ready to drop the moment he displeased her. From the moment she had seen him, his fate, or at least his evening, had been sealed. She didn't look like the sort to be especially violent. But maybe she was someone who didn't mind delegating some violence. The name was still ringing through his head, setting off faint sparks of memories once thought insignificant. Bits of newspapers, passing mentions on the news. She was a name known throughout the city - but always as a valued investor, or business partner. Simply by standing in her office for a few minutes, Cherno was getting the sense that her business ventures weren't always strictly legitimate. She exuded a certain lawlessness, and that meant she was dangerous, one way or another. He started pulling his shirt up over his antlers, carefully. Then he set to work on his pants.

Dairinn stood nearby, looking as if she were appraising him. She folded her arms as she looked him up and down, clicking her tongue and nodding here and there as he got fully naked in front of her, his cheeks blazing hot to strip down before a complete stranger like that. His sheath flopped unceremoniously into sight, and he was left pressing his thighs together, fighting off the urge to cover himself up as she took him in. Then she stepped around him, pressing behind him, her nose briefly at the nape of his neck. He felt her taking in his scent, feeling self-conscious. He hadn't prepared for this. The fire had him a bit overheated. But she didn't seem to mind. Her touch was delicate, but decisive, fingers playing up and down his sides, working along his ribs as if he were a piano. He remained rigid all throughout, standing up tall, not daring to even slouch so that she could complete a full inspection, despite the sense of violation making him bite his lower lip. He wasn't sure if it was better or worse when she pressed a little closer to him, palms pressed to his chest, chin resting on his shoulder as he felt the bulge beneath her dress against his lower back, just above his tail. He definitely hadn't been imagining things when he caught a glimpse earlier.

"The thing is, Cherno," she began, pressing her lips up near one of his ears, her voice low and steady. "When I lay eyes on a charming, delicate, relatively innocent thing like yourself, I cannot help myself."

He wondered what she meant by 'relatively', a cloak of guilt thrown over him in an instant as he scanned through his memory for anything he'd done wrong in the past. She continued as he considered.

"You are something I wish to acquire. A truly precious gift, to have, to take, and to keep."

He was pretty sure that was supposed to be flattering, but he wasn't sure how he felt about it yet. Perhaps more flattering, or maybe just imposing, was the distinct sensation of the drop. Her bulge had been relatively modest at first, he thought. But that was before he felt the sudden unveiling of a thick shaft, gravity taking over as it pushed from its sheath, soft already as thick as a fist, and only growing. It slid down his back, with only a single layer of fabric between it and his bare fur, leaving him to swallow and breath slowly, perpetually awed by just how big that dick was getting. Only her warm tongue on the back of her neck could break him from that stiffened state, uprooting his hooves and leaving him to wobble and stagger. That just got a gentle chuckle from her, and he soon was following along behind her faintly swishing paintbrush tail as she led him by a light grip on his antlers to her desk.

"But I need to know what you can do. Consider this a trial. I have confidence you will pass." She paused for several seconds, giving him a penetrating look. "Though, if not, I know a lion who might enjoy you. While you last."

He didn't answer. Maybe it was a real threat, maybe not. His legs were already shaky enough as they walked together, and that really didn't help. Maybe he was the one who needed the cane. Dairinn was still in her dress as she settled down into a broad, padded chair behind an elegantly carved wooden desk. She sat with her legs spread wide, slowly hiking up her dress to first reveal a shiny, pitch black pair of grapefruit-sized balls, glistening with just a hint of sweat. A little higher, and her semi-hard shaft flopped down with a mighty thud. She might have looked all oryx, but there was no doubt she had some zebra in her. That flared, equine dick matched her balls in colour, its impressive veins giving some visible bulges as it twitched its way to mostly firm. It might have needed a little coaxing, and that was exactly where he came in. She didn't need to offer him any more guidance than the blatant unveiling of her titanic cock, watching it pulse and shine for him, reflecting the fiery light, a bead of pre already thick upon her slit.

His shaky knees welcomed the support of the floor beneath him when he knelt down for her. His eyes were wide, his expression uncertain, but getting down under her desk like that felt right somehow. Maybe it was her scent. She had such a curious musk - masculine yet feminine at the same time, perfumed in a sense, smelling rich and refined in more ways than one. He was sniffing her before he caught himself, pulling back in surprise at himself for so easily being lured into such an indulgence. A look up at her revealed her gentle smile, her eyes warm. In those moments she was far from frightening. She looked like someone he wanted to please, though the swift submission wasn't making his cheeks burn any less. If he really had no choice, then he was just going to have to try to enjoy himself, and that meant turning off his own shame for a while and giving her a sample of his warm blue tongue cradling her nuts. He could feel the slow bass from the band below vibrating through the floor beneath him as he knelt there and started to service the wicked boss, while the snow blew briskly against the outside window, but all he could think about was how good she tasted, and how pleasantly smooth her sleek, glossy balls felt against his tongue as he slathered her up and down in a shiny coating of cervine spit.

"Very good. Linger there a while. No need to rush."

He heard her sigh, followed by the clinking of a glass as she poured herself a drink. The sound of her sipping was hardly audible for all the wet noise of his tongue working in increasingly sloppy strokes along the surface of her sack. The flavour ensured he was starting to drool, despite being forced, or at least threatened to be there. It was enough to make him draw back for just a moment to lick his chops, ensuring he didn't dribble on himself as he kept his work going over every every single smooth detail of her balls. The texture delighted his tongue, silky to the touch, leaving every slurp its own reward, especially when he got to listen to those subtle indications of approval from above. She didn't outright moan, but he heard her exhaling in pleasure. A better indicator of her enjoyment was the growing spire of her cock. Such a blunt statement for a woman of such elegance, he thought. That fat zebra-style dick pulsed up so crudely as he licked generously over her balls, swiping from one to the other, getting their every side. He cautiously planted his palms on her thighs as he worked, sliding inward until he could heft up those heavy orbs, marvelling at their weight before tipping his head straight back to lick right beneath them, working up her taint with an increasingly slobbery glide of azure upon the lightly sweaty hide of the oryx queen.

The taste never stopped impressing him. There was nuance to the musk dancing over his tongue. He found something new to savour every time he licked, slowly working until he could get his lips fully around one of those plump nuts at a time. He couldn't fit them both, no matter how much he strained his jaw. The feast of senses left him closing his eyes, letting his natural inclination to submitting guide him. All he had to do was push those thoughts out of his mind - the threats, the strangeness of the whole situation. He wasn't in any danger so long as he pleased her, and the gentle strokes of her fingers through his hair to him signified her continued approval. The suckles he gave her balls soon grew juicy with wet noise. He wasn't being subtle. He let the spit well up in his cheeks as he massaged each nut with his whole mouth, bobbing back and forth to fellate them before switching to the other, picking up his pace until those subtle tugs at his locks turned to a yank. That certainly halted him.

"Good," she said, but that was all. "Work your way up, now."

Cherno was breathless by the time he pulled back, puffing steam on Dai's soaked balls for a few moments before he could possibly manage to obey. A glance up at her shaft was like regarding a mountain, or a colossal tower that touched the clouds, for how big it seemed from that angle. He'd already spent so much time on just her balls. To give her whole cock the attention it deserved was a daunting prospect. But he was going to have to take on such a challenge, for his own good. A look up at her eyes reminded him of that. She didn't have to say anything. There was something there behind the outwardly gentle demeanour she had, something beneath the mask, and it was vicious. He was in no mood to find out just how far she might go if he disappointed her. So he probably looked a lot more broken than he was as he set to worshipping her dick as if she were a goddess. Or at least that was what he told himself.

There were a dozen different details that immediately demanded his tongue's attention. Whether it was those thick veins, or the solid medial ring, or all the way up to that expanding flare, he could hardly decide on a favourite spot to focus his efforts. Not that he was enjoying himself. It was still an act to preserve his own hide, he reminded himself, even as he guzzled down the pre gathered at her deep cockslit, pressing the tip of his tongue inside to make sure he slurped it all out. That musky treat was thicker every time that regal cock flexed, the veins upon it bulging, going taut, and yet even throbbing like that, it was still growing. She dotted her fingers upon the back of his head while he worked, playing him like a snare, until the tapping turned to a shove. Her patience only lasted so long, and after he had gone gliding up and down her dick for several minutes, alternating between slurping bordering on depraved, lashing back and forth, along with more reserved suckling whenever he could get his lips partly around that ample spire. She pushed him down when he neared her tip, letting his lips slip around the fattened mushroom of a flare, squishing it with his sucks, and he knew what she expected from him without so much as a word. He just hoped he didn't choke.

Cherno didn't need to look up to know she was watching him with intent interest. This was a test. He was going to need to give his best if he wanted to pass. The first gulp felt as if it'd be the hardest, stuffing the whole flared tip of the oryx's shaft straight down his gullet, but it hardly got any easier. He closed his eyes and let them water a little as he eased his way down that dark pole, swallowing Dairinn's dick as deeply as he could gulp it, letting it bulge his smooth neck fur as he kneaded it with every desperate flex of his throat. Her pre was only getting thicker the deeper he let her plunge inside him, lubricating her passage towards his stomach. He wondered if it could reach that far. But mostly his focus was on not suffocating with his while muzzle stuffed with the flexing length of her cock, feeling the veins bulging against the roof of his mouth, the medial ring popping over his lower lip and sliding along his tongue. The stretch and strain felt as if it should have been impossible, but somehow he kept making progress until he felt his nose victoriously squishing against her crotch, her balls snug against his chin. For at least a few moments, he'd deepthroated her entire dick, and his reward was the first of many truly potent moans to come. Followed by a much more urgent grunt as her dick pumped and expanded to a fully rigid state, pointing straight towards his gut.

That zebra-dicked cumshot hit him like a bomb, leaving him reeling with the aftershock of a blast erupting inside him, turning him into an overflowing chalice of oryx seed as it welled up around her throat-plunged dick and began to pour down his bare chest. He guzzled with a sense of mortal desperation, feeling the lack of air grow suddenly dangerous, smothering in that belly-bloating load pumped straight from the big boss' dick. A messy slurch was the smacking echo of his steady gulping, but there truly was no taming a torrent like that one. All he could do was tilt his head back, close his eyes, and hope he didn't drown in the musky flood that poured from that big fat cock, feeling the flare partly clogging his efforts, losing more to soak down his body than he managed to keep inside him. A part of his mind that still functioned worried such a ratio would prove disappointing - but most of his thoughts, including the anxious ones, were flooded out by the hot storm of white blanking him out as surely as the blizzard shrouded the city outside the window.

The rush of cum-lubed cock sliding out of his stretched throat left him feeling empty, more naked than before, and he was left to collapse to his hands and knees before her, inelegantly coughing as he sputtered up the remnants of her orgasm that he just couldn't swallow. There was those fleeting moments of trepidation where he felt as if might still suffocate, might drown on land, unable to properly clear his throat. But with enough effort, the smoky air returned, the scent of wood smoke mixing in with the oryx's thickly aromatic musk and the smell of her cum. It drenched her thighs, coated her cock, smeared across the glossy surface of her sack, dripping to the floor in gobs thick enough to they didn't drip so much as smack. Dairinn sat like a queen upon her throne, body tilted to the side in orgasmic contemplation, her closed fist pressed to her cheek, fingers tapping upon the ornate arm of her chair. A lick of her lips and a sultry sigh was the extent of her communication, while Cherno remained sprawled and defeated, laid out as if in worship, letting the sensory overload of her scent and flavour maintain its hold over his mouth, his nose, and his mind.

Just as he felt his body drifting, his thoughts unhinged and teetering near the void, ready to topple over and slip into a recovery nap or perhaps a coma, she cleared her throat and spoke again.

"Good," she said, and the flat tone made the word interchangeable with 'adequate.' She gave a nod to her slathered shaft and spoke more firmly. "Clean your mess."

His first effort to rise proved a misfire when he slipped in the puddle of seed beneath him, falling splat on his face. She didn't laugh at him, instead waiting for him to struggle to his knees again, bracing himself on her thighs. There was no way he could slurp up every drop she spilled. Some of it was already trickling through the cracks in the floor below, or absorbing deep into their skin. But he knew where to start, returning to the source, working his tongue along the smooth surface of her balls to lap up the thick coating of cum clinging to those shiny orbs. He made them bounce with the force of his slurps, hardly noticing just how eagerly he appeared to be diving into the task. The justification of self-preservation let him forget all about the humiliation of acting like a needy slut, when mere minutes ago he had learned the name of the woman whose balls he was currently sucking clean.

The crackling fire reflected off her shaft just right as he ascended from her nuts, following the light like a beacon, sucking his way up the side of her dick and swallowing as much cum as he could hold. His belly was feeling heavy, a burdensome load already sloshing inside of him, but what was a few more gulps? As he worked, the oryx reached into a drawer, pulling it out near his head. Something jingled merrily inside, but he didn't so much as give it a side-eye to see what it was. He was too caught up in the process of licking her cock, dragging his tongue up and down as before, letting the cum well up in his mouth to the point it overflowed before he sucked it down in a deep, throat-bulging swallows. The room felt so much hotter, and sweat was starting to glisten on his face at the same time as upon her balls, just adding to the mesmerizing musk that lulled him into a sense of safety despite the danger that his situation implied.

"I've been looking for the perfect little reindeer to wear this for me. Maybe I've found him. We'll see about that. For now -" She took him by the antlers and tilted his head back, exposing his throat to her. "Let's see how well it fits you."

The collar was decorated with an assortment of bells, as well as a blank, golden tag. Cherno didn't protest as she snapped it on and adjusted it just right. Though he did give a little bleat of surprise when she tugged it firmly enough to knock him off balance, face-planting in her balls once more. That got the least subtle of chuckles from her so far.

"Ah. That sound. I like it. I hope to find all manners of ways to make you bleat, Cherno. I am increasingly convinced I will make you mine tonight."

She said it as if they hadn't even yet begun. The worship and blowjob was nothing more than a test, one that he seemed to have passed, even if there was still plenty of cum slathered over the both of them and the floor below. That didn't seem to bother her. She rose to her hooves above him, taking control of him with a leash attached to his collar, and she didn't care if he could keep up or not. While her strength was moderate, her resolve was such that she would have dragged him across the room if he didn't stagger up and follow, following the swish of her tail where her rumpled dress rested atop her, getting a good look at the shape of her backside. Even a submissive buck like him couldn't help but admire such a rounded rump, though he made sure not to stare for too long, as if she might somehow know without even looking at him.

Their short trek ended at a couch, one placed right near the fire, highlighting them both in its bright orange glow. He saw it flickering in her eyes - or was that more an inner spark, one of desire and power alike that drove her? Either way, she was directing him to stretch out for her. She didn't have to say anything. A vague gesture, and he caught the idea. There was something about her, something that kept him attuned to her every desire as long as he was in her presence. All he had to do was watch her eyes, and his body naturally obeyed as easily as breathing. Though that was going to get more difficult soon, as he lay there observing her, waiting for any indication of what he was supposed to be doing next. She offered no directions, but instead began to climb atop him, lifting her dress even higher before removing it entirely, but never taking a hand off his leash, pulling his head right up where she wanted so she could succinctly sit upon his face.

"There we are, Cherno. A good pet makes for a good seat, whenever needed. Perhaps I might simply get myself comfortable upon you while I conduct business. I need to know you won't disrupt."

He had no opportunity for a response, soon smothered between her cheeks, pinned lips-first against her dark, equine rim. The fire blazed on without needing to be stoked just a few feet away from the two of them, turning the smothering into a damp smoosh of sweaty hole against his face. She moved her hips slowly, her knees planted on his arms, keeping him from pushing her or lightening the load on his face in the slightest. And she didn't hold back, either. The couch creaked beneath her modest weight as she sat down fully upon him, letting him squish against that perspiration-soaked hole while she hummed in pleasure, sliding back and forth, grinding on his entire face.

"You know, I have had many people in this city kiss my ass. Many more literally than you might think. You have competition. Don't disappoint me."

Smothered like that, he was fully immersed in her musk, feeling sweat trickle down his face, and past his lips. He too was starting to soak as he overheated beneath her, and it wasn't easy to draw air when she was so ruthlessly sitting on him. He was just going to have to lick until she was satisfied, working his tongue hard, no matter how much his jaw might have ached by then. A lap across her sweaty donut hit him with a refined flavour that kept him wanting more, digging deeply, pressing inwards, eating her out without any hesitation. She was already sitting on him without bracing her weight elsewhere, but she shoved down harder as he penetrated, stuffing his tongue deep into her rear, as far as he could reach, starting up a sloppy plunge back and forth, bobbing his head as if he were sucking her off. He didn't see it, but the delight of having a sweet young thing eating her ass so thoroughly was enough to drive Dairinn to a height of pleasure that had her tongue leaving her mouth for a moment before she remembered herself, her cock pressing up against her tits without so much as a stroke. His expert ass-eating was stimulation enough to make her throb. Though by the time she lifted from him, she had composed herself once more, giving no sign of how impressed she was.

It wasn't like he could see much anyway. He was coated in her sweat, feeling thick beads rolling down his face, while the rest dripped down into his open, panting mouth. Her taste was everywhere, attaching to his tongue and staying there, making sure he was still deeply musked even as she rose to her hooves and retrieved her toppled cane. He didn't get much of a chance to catch his breath. She had him up again, and set to inspecting him as he wobbled there on his hooves, his hands drifting towards his crotch, moving to cover himself up. He was a little firm by then. His sheath was full, and the tip of his cock was poking out just enough to let her know he'd been enjoying himself. There was no resisting that scent, and even then, he was feeling the call of the void, wanting to cast aside all respect and self-preservation and follow his urge to lean over and sniff at her, to bask in her presence a little deeper. The thought alone got another twitch from his sheath that he couldn't possibly conceal, one that drew her eye and put a smile on her face.

"Oh you needn't hide it, Cherno. I expect you to enjoy yourself. When I'm done with you, you'll cream yourself at the mere thought of eating my ass."

He was already somewhere close to that level of broken, but he held onto a shred of his dignity for the moment. Not that it stopped him from making that sound again when she tugged his collar, dragging him to the middle of the room, mercifully away from the fire. It was still overly warm in there, greatly contrasting the fluttery winter scene visible through the window behind them. She brought him away from that as well, instead stopping near the window that looked down upon the bar. He thought back to when he'd first seen her, framed in flickering silhouette, watching over him like a wicked angel. A few people glanced up at the two of them, as she held him with her arm over his shoulders, displaying her prize to the patrons. Maybe they couldn't make out every detail, but surely they got that idea. The cute deer boy who walked up to the boss' office was already breaking down.

"Maybe I'll invite some of my closest workers upstairs before I'm done with you. Just look at them down there. I can see a hunger in their eyes. I'm sure each one of them would love to have a piece of pretty buck ass. But for now, you're all mine, to treat like the little doe you are. Stand still."

Her last words came sharply, a command like that given a dog in training. She was already speaking to him like a pet, and he thought of nothing but obeying. He stayed where he was, letting her pour another drink, and give it a clinking stir with a small spoon. This time she didn't consume it, but instead brought it over to him, pulling him by the wrist to place it in his hand.

"Drink."

He did, tipping the warming beverage down with a little shiver. It was a bit strong for him, leaving his throat burning slightly, but there was a caramelly smoothness to it that told him it was a taste he could acquire. She took the glass away from him when he was done and set it down on her desk, leaving him to tingle with intoxication. More than usual. He didn't consider himself a lightweight, but he was already feeling something overtaking him, making his head spin, his heart pound, his lungs draw shorter breath. For a second he wondered if she'd simply poisoned him. It would have been an anticlimactic end to being broken into a pet, but he surely wouldn't have been the first person she'd served a tainted drink.

The feeling was concentrated most in his chest. He moved to rub at it, but she was there first, cupping what had once been a pretty impressive set of pectoral muscles. They felt softer as she groped him, even flabby. Had he been gaining weight lately, only noticing then? Moreover, he was so much more sensitive there than he used to, enough so that he gave her another one of those bleats she seemed to like so much. Except, it was all different. He hit a pitch much higher than he was used to, left blushing heavily and biting his lip to prevent any more sounds like it from escaping. His shaken demeanour only left him more wobbly on his hooves when she licked slowly along the slide of his throat, working up one of his cheeks until she could flatly nibble on his ear.

"A few adjustments. You've always been more a doe than a buck anyway, I think you'd agree. We have some time before it really sets in."

She gave an especially deep squeeze to his chest, and he couldn't hold back his moans. It felt good in a way he'd never experienced pleasure. Not to that normally so mundane part of his body. He was already showing something like a pair of tits, something a bit more feminine. The rest of his body didn't need any changes. He was the same bottom-heavy, wide-hipped girly boy as ever, but he could feel something inside of him, something making little alterations as easily as if flipping a switch. Maybe he ought to have been more distressed about experiencing what was essentially a forced transformation, but one glance down told him his body didn't disapprove. He was harder than ever. Maybe harder than he'd ever been, and it didn't escape Dairinn's notice for long. In such a state, he was worked up that a few soft strokes sent pleasure all the way down to his prostate, making him jerk his lips while he twitched and flinched, unable to control his own body.

That made it easy for her to knock him over. She tapped him on the chest with the back of her hand and let him tumble like a house of cards, his hooves kicking comically up in the air as he sprawled across the carpet. He was left considering the ceiling until she loomed above, her expression ever gentle but for the look of dominance blazing in her eyes. The sweat dripped from her balls as she lowered herself down between his legs, kneeling there and laying her cock over his. She looked down at the way her impressive girth made his own look so small, and met his eyes for a moment. There was no need to say anything. He got the idea, and she only rubbed it unto him as she set to warmly frotting against his shaft, playing the bulging veins over his skin, spurting pre up over her chest. Pressing her palms down on his shoulders meant she could rub her flared tip right up against his softened bust, sliding back and forth between his new cleavage. It wasn't much yet, but he was already so sensitive, his jaw falling open, his eyes clenching shut, while girly whimpers spilled from his parted lips with every stroke of fat equine dick between his 'tits', such as they were.

"I think you'll look ravishing with a plump pair of breasts. I look forward to wrapping them around my cock," she bluntly told him, only making that blush on his cheeks more intense, spreading to his entire face.

He probably would have cum for her if she kept grinding like that, but it wasn't to be. She left a smear of pre from his chest to his belly as she withdrew, and he returned the favour by glazing her shaft with the spurting mess squirting from him every time his body tensed. She was above him again, rising with her cane in one hand, the leash in her other. A tap of her hoof to his side, and he turned over, knowing precisely what she was thinking. Though the next part, she went ahead and spoke out loud, bending low so that her deep, commanding voice rang in his ears.

"Up. Crawl for me, pet. I want to see how you'd pull a sleigh."

He rose to his hands and knees as directed, his little tail raised, his hips shaky. There came a whap on his ass as she caned him, steadying herself on her good leg so she could properly punish him for the minor transgression.

"Straighten your back. Raise your head. Have some dignity.."

That spank left a lingering sting that ensured he had no desire for another whack. He did the best he could, striking a pose like a show horse, stretching his neck straight, curving his back just right to look as elegant as possible. It wasn't a pose he could hold for long.

"Better. Now crawl."

He crawled. She followed along behind, holding him on that leash, brandishing that deadly cane, but he did well enough not to earn another strike. When they neared her desk, she planted a hoof between his shoulders and flattened him to the floor.

"Good. You've almost passed. One more test. But first ... there's no sense keeping such a pretty thing on a leash if there's no one to admire your prize, is there?"

Cherno got the sense there was no need to reply, so he remained silent. She pressed a button on her desk, and a speaker crackled.

"Come up," she said. "Bring the others."

He was left crawling there beneath her, trembling, twitching, throbbing with anticipation, listening to the sound of footsteps approaching on those stairs. It wasn't just a single pair. The door pushed open and in walked the lion, along with two other figures he recognized from before. That thick-set wolf who'd been eyeing him, and that cold-eyed husky, they stood at silent attention, their expressions in great contrast from another. The wolf wore something like a grin, while the husky remained in intense silence, her lips pursed, the eye-shadow of her markings making her look furious when she was merely neutral. The lion sat on his haunches where he was, giving Cherno a good look at his sheath as it filled out, showing some pink. Dairinn gave them a nod, and with that silent approval the canines too were showing their growing arousal, unzipping and uncovering, going partly bottomless to stroke and fondle themselves to the sight of their boss ruining a cute, innocent intruder upon their den of sin. Dairinn spoke more powerfully than ever before, shedding her intimate tones in favour of something more akin to an impassioned speech.

"This is Cherno, or he was," she announced with practised bravado. "He is my reindeer now, to do with as I please. Perhaps he needs a new name."

The wolf was first to speak up. His voice was gruff as he looked.

"Rudolph? Or maybe Donner, Blitzen... no wait, uh ..."

"Hmm. I think he looks more like a Vixen, don't you?"

Nanji gave a chuckle to hear it, and the wolf nodded with a approving grin. The husky remained silent as ever. Dairinn touched her lip.

"Hm. Yes, that will do. Thank you, Lucifer. I shall make him my little Vixen while I rut him this fine holiday season."

Cherno crawled there considering his new name. And secondly, considering whether the wolf was really named that or if it was just some sort of tough-guy nickname. Dairinn leaned down to address her pet more directly.

"If you like it, we will get that inscribed on your collar in short order. But first ... let's show your new family just how good a pet you are, shall we?"

The eagerness of his nodded response made the audience laugh to see it. Even the husky snorted her amusement briefly. Maybe it was the jingling bells that went along with the motion making it look all the cuter, all the more embarrassing and desperate. He was drooling a little by then. Her musk was thick enough in the air to make him feel like he could pass out, and he was huffing it in rapid breaths, his eyes glazing over with an increasingly shattered expression. They'd all seen him before he met the boss - gentle, nervous, harmless. He didn't look like a salivating slut then, but one night with Dairinn and he was whimpering with the need for her cock, his own pumping out a steady stream of pre, his arousal peaking simply to be in her presence, while her sweat dripped from his features and stuck his hair partly to his face. It was a startling transformation - but not one her crew hadn't seen before, judging by their expressions. They continued to pleasure themselves to the spectacle without comment, with even Nanji pressing a broad paw to his firming shaft.

She dragged him over near the window once more, overlooking the bar, making sure she got him at just the right angle to reveal a shamelessly lewd silhouette to all who glanced above. As she mounted him, she reached to his antlers, giving them a gentle tug. That was all it took to remove them, and she delicately decrowned him with minimal effort, setting that elegant rack aside but within his sight, as if to remind him of the emasculating breakdown she was bringing upon him. It wasn't like he didn't lose his antlers every year, but this felt different. This felt symbolic, and left him drooling into a dull mahh of a muted bleat once he finally felt her cock prodding beneath his tail.

"Good pet ... I want to hear those sounds. Don't worry if the bar hears you. They'll be having their turn with you in time."

There really was no need to prompt such a thing. With his ass raised up, and his head pulled back by that leash, a fat equine dick pressing between his cheeks, he was already making all sorts of noise. He was hardly sure himself what was coming out of his mouth as she sank forward, gliding on a coating of spit, sweat, and cum, spurting pre inside him thickly enough to lend a squelch to her passage into his backside. Some of it was the usual bleating, but he seemed to shift between a few other hooved animals in the process of moaning his broken ecstasy for the feeling of her dick stuffing him full. With all that commotion came more standard moans, but all in a voice he hardly recognized. Higher, softer, more feminine than ever before - he was starting to wonder if he was the proper word anymore. And he liked how it felt to consider that. She was soon shaking his small tits with the pumping thrusts of her hips, breaking him and stretching him, mounting him like a doe caught up in the middle of breeding season. He could think about that when his mind was clearer, if it ever recovered from that pounding.

He knew she'd never be satisfied with any half-measures. A long, deep shove under his lifted tail, and she got herself balls-deep in his juicy booty, spanking his sack with her own, grasping him by the hips, digging her thumbs into his asscheeks. His body was bulging with the outline of her cock, hugging it so tight he could feel the veins when he stroked over his own belly, but he couldn't spare the balance for long. He needed both palms planted for the rutting, for that proper buck-breeding, bracing himself as she started bashing her hips against his butt. Maybe it would have been reasonable to assume that an older woman with a bit of leg trouble might have kept a modest pace, but she fucked his ass like a ferocious beast, impressive even to the carnivores standing across the room as they swelled to full at the sight of their boss demolishing the poor doe.

Cherno couldn't keep remotely silent. He fell from bleating, to desperately moaning, to screaming. Her name came into it too. There came those broken cries of 'Dairinn', stammered past his trembling lips, while his hands struggled for position, her weight bearing down on his back while her cock plunged in and out of his rear. His arms shook, and he sank towards the floor, finally stretching out like a rug beneath her, but doing his best to keep his ass raised high for proper pounding. His outstretched arms seemed to give her some sort of idea, and she nodded to the wolf, saying nothing more than half his name. He knew what she meant, and approached with a nasty little snicker.

"You are a squirmy thing. But I can fix that," Dairinn said, in a tone that sounded as if it was meant as something reassuring.

Lucifer produced a pair of handcuffs from under his jacket as he approached, his dark cock bobbing up and down with his every step. Cherno felt a harsh tug on his wrists, pressing his hands together, and then there came the click of a metal pair of cuffs that most definitely weren't the safe kind. They were the real thing, made of unflinching metal, warm with the wolf's body heat, applied with the sort of swift expertise of someone who had done this many times before. All he could do was stretch out and let her bulge his belly, her flare pushing up near his new tits, testing his inner flexibility to an obscene extent. He'd been rutted by horses before, but there was something different about her. There was experience in her every thrust. She knew how to stimulate him even while she pounded him, ensuring her flare stroked his insides just right, her medial ring rubbed against his prostate with every stroke, her veins bulged against all his sensitive places. He felt as if he couldn't hide a single secret from her - including where on the inside he was most tender.

His voice was starting to give out. She spanked him again, this time with the flat of her palm, hard enough to leave his asscheek numb after the initial sting.

"Don't go quiet on me now. Tell them all. Let every single person below hear you moan for me."

"Nnngh," came his grunted reply, straining not to blow his load as he puffed a vague whisper of her name. "D-Dai .."

"Louder." She never lost her cool demeanour, aside from lightly panting from the exertion. Her casual tone was somehow far more commanding to him than a shout ever could have been.

"D-Dairinn! God, nnnnf, fuck ..."

At his wailing, he saw plenty of heads below turn to look up at the two of them, shadowed in silhouette behind the glass. He didn't care who watched. Her cock felt good enough to scream about, and he wasn't getting any quieter, coming to a peak of his cries as he went tight around her shaft. That had him whimpering, shaking his head beneath her, trying not to go off before she told him it was allowed.

"That's it. It's okay. Blow your load, Vixen."

Her pounding turned much more reckless as he neared his peak. He held on for as long as he could, letting the pressure build inside of him, making him scrunch up his face and bite his lip. His eyes were wet with tears - or maybe that was just sweat, smothered beneath her heated body as he was. He shook with pleasure like a religious experience, feeling that flare flexing, expanding within him, stretching him in just the right ways, sending that final jolt down to his boy button until he couldn't escape the ecstasy shimmering through his veins and muscles alike. One more feminine cry, and he was cumming for her, getting milked by the drumbeat thumps of ball-slapping thrusts burying all those inches of oryx cock beneath his little tail, those rapid-fire slams of her experienced body against his own. She made sure he held nothing back, nipping him on the ear, gripping his ass, fucking him liked she'd always owned him. And he showed his appreciation in pints.

He hardly knew where he was for those moments as he covered himself in cum, quivering beneath his new boss as she filled her flare out and blew inside him. For all the puddle he was spraying over her nice, clean floor, she more than doubled his every spurt with her own unloading inside him. He heard it was much as felt it, splatting hard in his backside, shooting cream towards his gut, reaching that far in moments and beyond. The flavour was on his tongue in seconds as he tasted it, overflowing from his body when his belly could stretch no more. He couldn't even squirm, couldn't change his position with the leash tugging back on his collar, and the cuffs around his wrists. All he could do was endure, feeling as if she were liquefying him, leaving him sloshing, bloated, stupid, and utterly, shamelessly broken as he drooled her spunk into the pool of his own, wallowing in the musky results of her completely claiming him as her own.

The sound of her withdrawing was the sloppiest thing he'd ever heard. Her cock schlurrrped out of his ass, bringing with it a gush of oryx cum as if she'd broken a dam inside him. It poured out of his rear for several seconds before the pressure ceased, leaving him to slump, shattered and shackled beneath her as she dragged him to the centre of the room. He slid along on the mess they'd made, faintly groaning, sounding as if he'd been drugged. In a way he had, but the real intoxication was the orgasm she'd given him, and the musk she left upon his fur, still swimming through his senses, reminding him with his every shaky breath who he belonged to. Though she could do even better than that.

She didn't bother to remark upon it when she started pissing on him. All it took was getting back to her feet, and clutching her softening cock, pointing it straight at the back of his head. He felt it soaking into his hair, staining him to the scalp with a musk stronger than ever, before she went hosing down his body, hardly missing a detail. She sprayed him from his shoulders to his ass, reaching all the way to his hooves before she made her way back up. Still that hot, golden stream continued, until it felt like she must have poured a gallon of oryx piss over his body, wiping out any lingering traces of the cold along with his own personal scent. He was marked, owned, a piece of property for the boss to keep, another little addition to her every-growing territory. Her henchmen didn't mind the sight either. They were still jerking off to the sight of the complete ruination she was raining upon her plaything, and when she was done shaking off the last few hot drops, she stepped back and gave them a nod.

He felt the tremors of their approaching steps, but he did nothing to move or react. That dazed sound was still coming out of his throat, all on its own, and he was writhing slightly, but that was all he had to show he was still conscious, or alive at least. His current state might not have counted as fully awake. They assisted one another as needed, stroking three dicks to a climax just above him, adding to the marking process by cumming all over his piss-soaked body. He felt three distinct shots laying over his back, painting up and down his spine, getting him on the ass, the balls, the taint. He wasn't sure whose was whose, and the musk all blended up together into a dizzying cocktail as they claimed him not just as Dairinn's pet, but as property of the gang itself. Though her mark remained the strongest upon him, asserting its musky dominance even once they finished cumming, and pissed on him as well.

Caught beneath the downpour of three amber streams, still sweating in the heat of the dying fire, Cherno tried to think about how he'd ended up there that night. It felt like so long ago, as if his previous life was something he'd only glimpsed inside a half-remembered dream. It didn't matter anymore. He'd found a new purpose, a new pleasure, a new existence in the company of the salacious boss, sprawled out in her office, her musk sinking so deeply into his skin it felt as if it had always been a part of him. Despite the strain, he felt no need for rest, no soreness, no regrets. He was hers to use, however she wanted, for now and for good, including if that meant handing her off to her crew as reward for jobs well done. Dairinn nodded to the others once they were finished soaking the shattered buck, and they withdrew, leaving him in that spreading puddle, his limbs splayed around him, his leash flopped down on the floor nearby. His antlers were still resting where Dai had left them, and she moved at a relaxed pace to retrieve them, bringing them to the fireplace. She tilted her head as she held them above the mantle, considering how they'd look mounted there as a trophy of her triumph over the fallen buck, but left them on her desk for the time being. Only then did she acknowledge him.

"Rest, pet. You have earned it. I would bid you welcome to my service, but I think tonight has been welcome enough. I will let you know when I need you, sweet Vixen."

Despite every single part of his body working together to disobey him as he remained flattened and defeated in a puddle of bodily fluids, Cherno did his best to grunt approvingly, as if he could tell her in a single sound that he was ready to do absolutely anything she asked of him. Tonight, and any other night, he would be her devoted, adoring plaything, as surely as if she'd stolen his soul.