FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

Jack grumbled a little, and opened the trunk of the little autocar. One briefcase, locked. He didn't have the key, nor did he know what was in the case, but that wasn't really important. This was the usual setup for the client, and since Janice was out sick, he'd been tapped to fill in.

The car hummed away, a faint mist of disinfectant and scent neutralizer fogging the inside as it scooted toward another rider in need. There were thousands of them, and they made up the vast majority of Boston's street level traffic. Subways below, and pedestrians everywhere else. Very few people bothered with owning a car, at least not in the metro area.

All of which was Jack trying to muse on anything other than the things he knew he didn't know.

The security kiosk in the building scanned his ID, and printed him a no-escort visitor badge. It stuck neatly on his breast pocket, the polo shirt a neat little khaki that contrasted well with red panda fur. Black shorts, too, but otherwise bare and unrestrained. Shoes were for stock humans, as far as he was concerned.

The elevator knew where he was going, communicating with the security system. He was a guest, he had an appointment, and the person expecting him was ready to see him. So he was deposited somewhere rather high up. There was a little directory in front of the elevator, and he scrolled a finger down the names until he found the one he was after.

"E. Étoile, CAO, room seven." It even had an arrow taking him right.

The floors were hardwood in the hallway, and the only sound was the click-clack of his clawtips as he walked. Door seven was around a corner, and unless he'd gotten terribly turned around, on the south side of the building. A corner office, too, it looked like. He did a quick check, glanced down at the briefcase, then knocked.

There was a short pause, then a faint click, and the latch disengaged. Jack pushed the door open, and transitioned from hardwood floor to lush carpet. The client, one Elisabeth Étoile, was seated behind a big wooden desk. She wasn't a small woman, with the characteristic dense, chunky, powerful build common to jaguars, a classic three piece suit, and glasses perched on her broad muzzle. Jack caught the flicker of a display lens before she shut it down and took the glasses off.

"You're punctual, at least." Something felt off about the office, but he couldn't really place what. Mrs. Étoile stood up and came around the desk, then held out a hand for the briefcase. Jack handed it over, and she pulled the key from somewhere. Opened it, set it on her desk, and nodded. "As expected."

Jack peered to try and see what was in the case, but didn't get far. Almost as soon as he turned to look, the jaguar took three steps to cross the room, brought a hand up from low, grabbed his shirt and tossed him to the floor. Right, powerful build was not just for show. He let out a grunt when he hit the floor.

That was why things felt off. There wasn't any furniture around the office floor, just empty carpet and that one huge desk. Plenty of room for whatever the fuck was going on. The panda started to pick himself up off the floor, but only made it to one knee before he felt a hand on the back of his neck, clawed fingers digging into his scruff. He didn't go limp, but it wasn't really possible to fight it when she dragged him up, off his feet entirely. In one hand.

"Fuck, you're a strong one."

"Shut up." She went to backhand him, but slowed her hand just before impact so it was only a light tap. "Mouth off again and I won't hold back.

Okay, Janice had said Mrs. Étoile played rough and acted like she didn't take sass, but according to the doberman, he could probably get away with some back-talk, as long as he was obedient while he was at it. And as long as he understood he was probably going to get hit for it. But a day without sass was one not worth living, as far as Jack was concerned.

Plus the boss had picked him to fill in, and the boss was rarely wrong about this kind of thing.

But dangling from one hand with his feet a couple inches off the floor was not, in his mind, a position in which to be a brat. She didn't really give him any chance to, either. She pushed him against the wall and switched grip to the other hand, pinning him with that paw on his chest. At least his feet were on the ground? That was helpful. So were his pants a second or two later. She hadn't bothered with things like "undoing his fly" just yanked once and the seams gave out.

"Hey! I liked those ones."

This time she actually did backhand him. Maybe not full power. Definitely not, given her strength and the fact that he still had all his teeth, but enough to really sting.

"They were in the way. Oh look, there you are. This gets you hot huh? You like being powerless and roughed up." He did, yes, but that didn't mean he liked it being pointed out. Still, she evidently wanted that reaction, and her free hand went down to give him a squeeze. Very tight grip, and he couldn't keep his hips from pushing into it. God that felt good.

She squeezed even tighter and pulled, slowly. Too tight, he wasn't sliding out easily, until there wasn't any more forward his hips could go. That one kind of hurt, all drag and no slide, until she let go and his butt landed back against the wall with a faint thump. Didn't stay there long, she set one hand under his butt and used it to lift him halfway up the wall. To head level, as it turned out, and he just let out a low, trembling moan when she took all of him in her maw, didn't suck, but just held him there with the barest prick of fangs. It was weird not being able to move his hips, but he was only halfway sure she wouldn't bite if he tried.

She held him there, hanging in the air, for only a few moments before she let go of his dick, licked her fangs, then dropped him. Falling five feet was not fun, and he only sort of caught himself, bending knees enough to take some of the impact off. He still ended up on his ass, but not quite as painfully as might have been. Still, it was a distraction. And gave her time for whatever she had in mind. He was still getting to his feet, a little unsteady and slow, and heard the briefcase open again.

What was in there? It was probably just a prop, a thing to have to set the mood or whatever, but she hadn't acted like it was empty and she was just playing along. There were hesitations and tells for that. Whatever was going on, he didn't have time to ask those questions. About the time he got back to his feet and was able to start moving toward her, another backhand hit him. Again, not as hard as she probably could swing, but it hurt and staggered him, more than enough opening for her to-

SNAP

Jack's eyes went wide at the sudden weight around his neck. Okay, that explained the briefcase, the metal collar was familiar enough. Thick steel, segmented so it could lay flat, but once the ends met it was effectively a seamless circle. Big ass electromagnets at the back of his neck, there was just no way he was getting it off without those turned off. Someone had gone really deep into classical lit to name it, but even if he didn't know the reference, he knew the albatross around his neck.

"Okay then, yep, this is, uh. Hard." He blinked a couple times and hauled himself back upright. It was hard to stand upright with it on. He didn't expect it to be a problem for her to move him around with it on. Proven right a second later when she grabbed the front of it, curled her fingers in, and hauled him off his feet again. She'd stripped off her suit somewhere in there, too, and he had a hell of a view. Muscles moving under black-painted yellow fur. She was every bit as physically solid as she had seemed while dressed. Just more so.

"Clearly, you did not get the memo from Janice. I don't do backtalk, so if you want to leave here with teeth, you had better start by apologizing."

"I'm sorry."

"For?"

"Backsassing."

"I don't believe you really are," Mrs. Ètoile growled. Which was either part of the script, or just good perception. Jack wasn't even remotely sorry, and knew it was all part of the game. Hell, her customer file was pretty clear on that. Dominant, antagonistic, brat-tamer. It was pretty obvious why she meshed well with Janice, and why Jack had been drafted to fill in. His kind of party.

"Well, how can I prove myself?" Assuming this was part of her script, she'd be having him do something subby next.

Sure enough, she pushed him down to his knees with one hand on the collar, then palmed the back of his head and shoved his face in between her thighs. Good smell to her. Despite her snarly demeanor (which he was nearly certain was all for show) she was clearly enjoying their little play.

He didn't really need instruction, when presented with such an obvious invitation, and started to lick. The angle she was holding his head at was a little awkward, but attempting to move didn't get him anywhere; her grip was pretty damn solid. So he made do with what he had available, and worked on getting her to relax.

After a bit, she eased her grip a little bit, giving him more freedom to adjust and angle. And more options to do things the kind of wet sounding, enthusiastic way. He didn't have to fake it, eating women out was definitely in his top ten favorite activities, and practically everyone who knew him knew that strong, dominant women were in his top three partner archetypes. Wasn't often he got to really get into serving them, so he was inclined to really indulge that urge, given this opportunity.

He kept working with mouth and tongue, licking, stuffing his tongue in, suckling. Earned a few growly noises from her, but he was at least mostly sure that those were pleased sounds. She seemed to be enjoying things, anyway. He was pretty sure if he tried to get hands involved, he'd get hit.

After maybe ten minutes of servicing her, she pushed him away with a growl, and commanded him to stay where he was, then returned to the briefcase. He finally found out what was in it when she started buckling on the strap on. Those really hadn't changed much over the years, aside from materials letting the harness sit much tighter without being uncomfortable, and dildos of course having gotten more complex, more varied and-

"Hey! That's mine!" He'd been using that one just yesterday for a photo shoot. It wasn't huge, but it did a god damn good job of hitting all the right spots. It wasn't one he kept for private use at home, but it was on the shelf of toys reserved for him at the studio.

"Yes, I know. You'll get it back. In fact, open your damn mouth and I'll give it to you now." He was pretty sure he knew who had requested that photo shoot, too. Private shoots weren't uncommon, folks were often willing to pay a bit extra to have something truly their own. And the Finest were always willing to take their money, of course.

Well, he wasn't really going to argue, and when she stepped over to him, just opened his maw wide. While he couldn't taste her on it, her scent was thick in his nose, and that made things so much hotter, in his completely unbiased opinion. Jack had a thing for scents, especially the sex ones, and hers was definitely in the top half. Not the best, some folks had gotten interesting genetic tinkering done, one of his regulars smelled like peaches when she came. But still pretty fucking good.

And pretty fucking rough, too. She pulled on his ears, used a hand on the back of his head and one under his chin to move him around, to angle him so she could just fuck his face and make him gag and choke. Not for terribly long, but enough to get into his head and push him into the proper space. Some part of him wondered if she worked this way with Janice, too.

After a little bit more of this, and another backhand (she didn't really say why, probably just because she could) she pushed him over on his side, knelt beside him, and slammed her hand into the ground next to his head. She leaned down real close and bit his ear, then whispered to him.

"Are you doing alright? I can dial it back some if I need to. You're starting to look kind of spaced."

He nodded, then put a hand on her wrist. "M'good. You're pushing me. Headspace is kicking in good, keep going. I'll call yellow if things go south on me."

She nodded, then, and grabbed him by the neck, manipulated him with both hands to put him on his knees with one hand twisted up behind his back. Even if she hadn't been much, much stronger than him, that hold would have been enough to keep him from fighting effectively. It also put her in a pretty good position to guide that toy under his tail.

He usually enjoyed the challenge of it, the tip was gently tapered, enough to make the first little bit easy to get in. But it widened out pretty quickly. She wasn't being gentle, exactly, but her thrusts and pushes were controlled, however rough they felt. He was going to be sore as hell later.

But right now he was in a really, really good place. The stressors and physical power, the pushing of certain buttons she just had to have been told about beforehand. All of that was adding up to push him under, into that weird, fuzzy place where thinking didn't happen.

The next thing he was really, truly aware of was hips against his ass. It pushed him up out of that wonderful haze, and he felt his achingly hard prick wrapped in a big feline hand. He was a little too full to really work his hips against her hand, but he tried, and she growled something at him, something about holding still, he wasn't told to move.

He receded again into the haze, feeling pulses and sparks of pleasure and pain and that overwhelming and unquestionable need to submit, to obey, to let her have her way. Somewhere in there, she had let go of his arm and had him by the base of his tail instead. He was on his hands and knees, one arm much more shaky than the other as she plowed him from behind.

More of that warm and enveloping haze, half-aware of the growing pressure and need. He almost hated the insistent need that was dragging him out of that haze, demanding to be sated. She knew, though. Had he said? He couldn't remember saying anything. He wasn't sure he could make words at the moment. It was hard enough getting one thought to follow another through the submissive fog that crowded and blanketed his mind.

Teeth pulled him up from the haze, teeth on the back of his neck. Big, sharp teeth, too. Eyes wide as everything came together and pushed him over the edge. Right into her hand, as it turned out. Maybe she didn't want to deal with a bigger mess on her carpet? There was already quite a bit.

He figured out why in a moment or two, after he was spent, panting, shuddering as she held him in place with teeth on his neck and a hand on his chest. Then she smeared his muzzle with that handful of cum, sticky and definitely him-flavored. Definitely not the first time, and while he wasn't a huge fan of his own flavor, it wasn't going to cause him any distress to lick her hand clean. Which he did, to the tune of a chuckle or two from her.

They stayed like that for a little while, until he was mostly clear of the haze, chatting idly while she petted his belly and occasionally nipped at his ears. Then the careful disentangling, and more idle, touch-heavy time. Aftercare was definitely in the profiles that came along with each reservation, that was just sensible. And his needs were very touch-focused.

Eventually he was back in his own head enough to do a little clean up and get dressed again. He wasn't walking right, but that wasn't really a problem, there'd be a car waiting at the ground floor to take him back to the office. And then the best employee lounge and recovery area that money could buy.

They said their goodbyes, Jack collected the briefcase, dildo and harness, then paused at the door to grin. "Thanks for your business, ma'am. It was a pleasure to serve, and Janice asked me to let you know that she'll be back on your floor next time you call."

"Mm, noted. Do let her know that I'm considering a pair. I wonder how well I can make you two play each other for my amusement? No, let's save that for next time. Good afternoon, little toy, I'll be seeing you again."

Jack shivered, mind filling with thoughts about how much fun that appointment might be, as he made his way to the elevator.