FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

You stir awake, not to a golden beam of sunlight breaking in through a window, or from the sound of an alarm clock ringing in your ear.

It's at the behest of a truly foul , musty scent in the air, and as you stare up at an old, decrepit ceiling, you quietly pray that this place isn't your home.

"Good...you did survive."

Hearing a voice in the room, you try to sit up from the bed, but your mind is left reeling. You practically fall to the floor as you try to stand, but someone meets you at the edge of the bed and pushes you back toward the covers; you're frustrated to be stopped, at first...but quickly become grateful for the hand that stops you as you lean back into the bed.

You're wounded, but you can't discern the severity of your injuries. You're just barely awake, and rather than looking down at the source of the pain in your shoulder, you look to the woman standing over your bed and manage a grateful smile for her presence.

"Not much of one for words, are you?" she asks, but she's visibly glad to see that your mood improving. "That's fine. That'll make it easier for me to catch you up, since...by the look in your eyes, you don't remember much of a thing, do you?"

You want to shake your head, but a hint of nausea precludes you from doing much more than a tiny wiggle.

"Well, we only know so much on our end, stranger. The short version is that we found you in the woods without a scrap of armor on your body and a nasty looking wound on your shoulder...and if you want to know the longer version, I'm afraid you'll have to be on your way to find some answers."

You look down and see that your shoulder is taped up, and whatever garments you had on your chest, they've been set aside by the woman above you, or so you assume.

Speaking of your naked body...what does it look like?

(Go through a selection screen, allowing players to decide what species they are from a wide variety, what gender they are including herm, intersex and NB presentations, and very basic fur and scale pattern combinations.)

"Sorry that we stripped you down, but we thought it would be for the best if we checked you for any other wounds. Turns out that luck was on your side, stranger. A couple more days of bedrest, and you should be right as rain and on your way."

The idea of staying a little longer is comforting, if only for the pain that you feel in your chest as you try to move again.

The idea of leaving, on the other hand, feels appealing as you look up at the mold growing on the ceiling. Just a quick scan of the room, even from your back, reveals a number of buckets around the room, presumably for catching rainwater...and some of those have holes in them, too.

"Now, on the matter of staying a few extra days, we...uhm...well, we took the liberty of giving you the first night here free of charge, but as you can clearly see, things here at the Willowsedge Inn could certainly be a little better. If you would like that bed for another night, we'll need to insist that you have some form of payment ready. That warm bed you're laying in will only cost you a few copper pieces a night, but we will need that payment before you leave in the morning, aye?"

The woman tending to you is a rabbit with a kindly smile, but she wears her emotions in her eyes with every word: you can see her desperation when she mentions the state of the old, musty building.

"And any tips are greatly appreciated, of course. I can't promise that we can do anything truly special for you, but...for the right amount, we may be able to offer you some services that we don't keep a record of on the books," she explains hastily, sure that you'll understand exactly what she's getting at...but the shift in her expression makes up for any gap in your intuition. "But perhaps, we can talk about those kinds of things after you've had a little more rest, hm? I do hope you feel up to joining us for breakfast downstairs."

As she takes a step back from the edge of the bed, you reach down to the leather pouch by the side of your bed and find you have just enough copper on your person to afford one more night at the inn...and perhaps enough to entertain another possibility from your kindly hostess.

Do you tempt her for reveal the secrets of the inn to you with your last few copper pieces?

(If yes, move onto the next scene, with one path for male and female presenting interactions. If no, cut ahead to heading down for breakfast with no change in the pathing.)

**Tempt her, male path**

Just before she reaches the door, you shake the leather pouch by your bedside, drawing her attention back to you. There's fifteen pieces in there, and you know you need to set aside ten, just in case you decide to take another night to rest.

As far as you're concerned, you're ready to go right now, but your pride has been damaged, and you can't think of any better way to have it restored than with a little personal attention.

"I'm sorry, did you need me to pick that up for you?" she asks, as she begins to move back toward you...but as she does, you lower the covers from your chest, and keep moving until you confirm what she told you before: there's no clothes to be had there, and though she's flustered to see you exposing yourself, she's quick to close the door to the private room and deadbolt it.

She moves over slowly and helps you lift the leather pouch, taking the five copper pieces aside for herself and leaving the rest of the pouch on the nightstand next to you. In her line of work, she's used to customers changing their mind on the fly, and as such, she makes it clear how easy it is for her to change her demeanor on a dime.

"I guess you were feeling well enough to try some of our extra services after all?" she asks, before kneeling at the edge of your bed. Her apron and dress are loose enough that kneeling upon them leaves her with plenty of mobility above, and she proves it by reaching out with a graceful touch, walking her fingertips over the fitted sheet beneath you and letting her dull, tiny claws rake at your side. "For this much, I can only offer the most basic of treatments, but I've never heard someone complain about that...in fact, most of our guests are happy to take whatever they can get from us."

You begin to wonder if the Willowsedge Inn is appropriately named, given how quickly the woman tending to you offered such a risqu辿 option, all in the name of making a little extra money. Judging by the state of the place, you almost feel guilt about her fingertips moving over your inner thigh and finally gripping the base of your uncovered cock...but hearing the subtle drip of rain sinking through the roof and landing in a bucket, you decide that your money is well spent.

The last sliver of guilt fades from your body as she holds the base of your growing member delicate and watches it, showing enough interest that you think she might actually be into the act as much as you are. Her eyes admire the stiffening flesh with a sense of appreciation that becomes obvious in the depths of her milk chocolate orbs, and her digits clench a little tighter as she feels vitality running up from the base to the tip in a pleasant, eager throb.

She smiles at you and leans in, offering a delicate rub of her smooth, white-furred cheek against the side of your shaft...but only the softest tease of her breath ever reaches the tip of your length. Her head eases back from there, and silently, you curse the fact that you don't have enough copper to pay her to go one step further.

Precum emerges from your tip just in time to keep her paws from getting dry against your sensitive skin, and you groan in quiet delight as the pleasure from the act helps you forget your wounds, if only for a brief time. Your body begins to tremble as she strokes down to the base once more, and once there, she gives a few quicker, tighter squeezes at the warm, throbbing flesh.

"If I didn't know any better, I'd say you faked that injury because you heard something about our reputation," she teases you with her voice just as much as her digits, as they begin pumping quick, short strokes around the base of your length. You're more sensitive than you remember, and as your head tosses back into the pillow once more, you're regretful that the bunny, now working one paw at the base of your member and the other at your tip, is going to work you to such a rapid orgasm. "We could always use more business, hon...so if you feel like we did an excellent job for you, be a dear and spread the word, hm? You never know when your life is going to come to an end, as a daring adventurer...might as well live every day as if it's your last."

By now, you're sure that this place is a burlesque house that you were just lucky enough to be attacked outside of.

You're also absolutely certain that you don't care about the reputation of the place you're in, as the bunny works your voluminous precum back into your smooth, tasty flesh and brings you right to the brink of climax.

Just before you get the chance to paint her small, narrow muzzle with a load of your seed, she lets go of your tool and lifts her apron, wrapping the front of it around your member. She holds it tight and grips the base once it's contained, and though you've got plenty to give...the rough, thick material contains your mess better than you ever could have imagined.

As you feel tiny trickles leaking back down your shaft, toward your groin, you writhe against the bed and pant with orgasmic desperation, feeling little touch and tickle of her fingertips through the apron, working against your body. Even though you've already passed the highest point of your bliss, she's still milking the cum right out of you...and grinning the whole time.

"That's quite the load you've left for me! Goodness...the girls in charge of laundry are going to hate me for this," she mentions, but before you can feel guilty, she giggles at the idea and offers you a sweet, flirtatious wink. "As for you...you'll find your clothes waiting on the dresser over there. Try not to make a mess of those too, hm? I'm afraid you've already used up all of your free services here."

With the same paws that just stroked and worked your flesh, she pats you on the forehead. Standing upright, she pats her apron down and groans, realizing her mistake...and you hear the subtle mrnf of her mouth against her paw as she tries to clean herself up before she makes her way back downstairs.

You realize that you should probably rise and greet the day, but after that effort, you decide to take a few more minutes before you properly rise and shine...