FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

The documentary on the coy wolf was wrapping up while she sopped up the remainder of the egg yolk with her toast. Ferals always fascinated her, especially the hybrids. Sure, most anthros could reproduce with each other, but doing so between ferals was rare. She only knew this because she'd wanted to be a veterinarian growing up. That dream was derailed when she found she couldn't secure a full-ride scholarship and her mother forbade student debts.

She rated the show four stars and shut down the computer. Putting her plate in the sink, she decided against washing it, figuring she still had one more and the likelihood she would have someone over to eat soon was nonexistent. Washing herself, however, that she would do and stalked to the bathroom, shedding clothes along the way.

The warm water felt good and she employed the scrub brush to do its assigned tasks. Feeling cleaner, and happier, she toweled off and wrapped it around her head. A hand across the mirror wiped away the fog enough to see she was in good order and she turned sideways to admire her curves, tossing the idea of a diet out the window. I may need to rethink that, though, if Nathan keeps making dinner like he did.

Sylvie was in the middle of pulling up her pants when the doorbell rang. Buttoning them, the doorbell rang again and she threw on an Assemblage 23 t-shirt over her bare chest. It had been a gift from an ocelot she once went to a concert with...and who left with someone else. She didn't know why she kept it but it was comfortable in all the right places and the music was good.

The doorbell rang again and, for the first time, she was wondering who would be here. Likely a wrong address but, due to her recent employment, she felt proud enough to answer, instead of hiding away while looking for something to pay the bills. She didn't bother with the peephole and opened the door to see sun glare reflecting off a shining gold- and black-striped head.

"Afternoon," Tiffany said from behind sunglasses.

"Hello. Come in," Sylvie said, shading her eyes from the bright sky and stepping aside. "I didn't think I'd see you until Sunday at work."

"Ah," Tiffany shrugged. "I was just going to do some shopping down the road and wondered if you might like to tag along, if you didn't have anything planned already."

"No, I'm free. I need to make it to the thrift store to find some new clothes for work anyway. What I thought I had was too small." She closed the door behind Tiffany and blinked a couple times to clear her eyes.

"That shirt seems to fit you well, though you might want to put something on underneath if you plan on trying on others."

Sylvie was confused until she followed Tiffany's glance and saw her nipples standing at attention. "Shit," she muttered and took off down the hall to the bedroom, hearing Tiffany giggling at the door. Ripping off her shirt, she found an appropriate bra and redressed herself. Her ears and cheeks flushed with embarrassment at having to see Tiffany again.

"Sorry about that," she said, taking her sneakers and sitting down on the futon to put them on, all the while trying to not make eye contact.

"Not a problem. I see them all the time."

Sylvie could think of three different ways to take that statement and decided it was best to leave it alone. Standing back up, she asked, "Where did you want to go?"

"I was going to go to the mall but there's some place I want to take you first."

Sylvie noted Tiffany was staring at her chest with a mixture of disapproval and concern. She found it flattering another person was taking an interest in her body; the fact it was another woman made her feel strange. "The thrift store is about the only place I can afford right now," Sylvie said, gathering her wallet and stepping towards the door in an effort to turn Tiffany's attention to something else.

"I understand," the tigress said, stepping aside as the door swung open and they exited the apartment. "This one's on me. Trust me."

Getting into the Miata in the light was much easier, and more comfortable since she could now see the push-out in the seat back for tails such as hers. She still wouldn't rate the car as especially comfortable but, at least now, she didn't feel as claustrophobic.

"Want to listen to anything in particular?" Tiffany asked, belting herself in and starting the car.

"Anything except classic rock and jazz," Sylvie said. "That's all they ever played at my previous jobs."

"I know what you mean." Tiffany shifted into gear and they headed off. "When I worked at Cottontail, all they would play is this really heavy...noise bullshit. I guess it made sense if you were into that kind of thing. Are you into that kind of thing?"

Sylvie didn't know what that kind of thing was, so she shook her head.

"Good. I mean, I wouldn't have a problem with it if you were, but I just didn't see that in you." Reaching for the radio, she turned up the volume and began searching for a station to listen to. Most everything coming out was commercials or cookie-cutter rock and pop stations neither of them had a real interest in. Finally she came to the local classical station and left the tuner alone. A violin sounded mournfully while a piano quietly accompanied the melody and they drove in silence, Sylvie's emotions floating along with the aria.

The piece ended as Tiffany pulled into the parking lot of _Le Bosom Boutique_and shut off the car, leaving Sylvie to wonder who'd written something so stirring. Seeing lingerie in the store window, however, was enough to pull her away from her thoughts.

"Where are we?"

Tiffany smiled. "Some place I'm sure where I can get you into something more comfortable." Sylvie's eyes widened and Tiffany laughed. "It's not what you're thinking. Come on. Trust me on this."

Reluctant to do so, Sylvie felt she had no choice. Tiffany was her ride and co-worker. No trust meant a long walk home and miserable work environment, and Sylvie did want to trust Tiffany. Climbing out, her steps were slow towards the door until Tiffany took her hand and pulled her along.

Inside, elevator music was playing lightly over the speakers and the few glances Sylvie received from the other customers were those of indifference. She followed Tiffany over to a display of bras and watched the tiger sorting through ones which were obviously too small. When Tiffany took a look at Sylvie's chest, only then did the skunk realize what she was doing.

"May I help you, um, miss?" an accented voice said from behind them. Sylvie turned to see a ferret looking at her with no little amount of distaste.

"My friend and I are looking for something more fitting, Arman," Tiffany said, still rifling through the selection.

Arman gave a sneer to Sylvie and moved closer to Tiffany. Hurt and embarrassment began to flood through the skunk. She knew going shopping at a place like this was a bad idea. "Tiffany, I--"

"Just a second, Syl," the tiger said, turning toward them. Arman's contempt almost disappeared from his face and Tiffany cast a questioning glance at Sylvie. "We'd like to see your selection of wireless bras. Something in satin, I think." She took another look at Sylvie's chest. "Probably something in a 38C."

"I'm sorry. We have nothing in that size."

Tiffany's eyes scrunched for a second in confusion. "Sure you do. I was in here last week and you said you just got a shipment in."

"I'm sorry. I mean, we have nothing for her in that size. Unless you are, perhaps, considering surgery and would be looking for something later."

Tiffany's eyes went wide and Sylvie wanted nothing more than to retreat.

"Tiffany, I think--"

"Hold on, Sylvie." The tiger turned her full attention to the ferret. "What you mean nothing for her? I'm buying."

"I mean we have nothing for her because we do not cater to...skunks," he said with a roll of his hands.

Tiffany gave a laugh of incredulity. "Don't cater to...," she laughed again. "I've been a customer here for how long and, now that I want to buy something else, you're telling me you won't sell it to me?"

"I will sell it to you, but not for a skunk."

"What the hell does it matter?"

The ferret gave a placating smile. "Management has decided it does not want the brands this store sells to be seen on something like...her."

Sylvie could feel the eyes of the other shoppers looking their way and felt sick to her stomach.

"Management? Arman, you are the management!" Tiffany spat, her ears beginning to lay back.

"That is true. If you want a new brassiere, I will show them to you over here." He gestured to a display away from Sylvie, maintaining the pretense.

"Tiffany, we should go." The tiger looked at her, eyes wide in disbelief.

"No, Sylvie. This is bullshit. For this asshole to tell us he won't sell you something because of your species is fucked up."

"Miss, if you could please keep your voice down," Arman said, finally realizing the attention he was drawing.

"Piss off, Mike. Sorry, I mean Arman." She gave a bark of a laugh. "Just can't let go of your old porn name, can you? And drop the fake French accent. The most French you have is when Francois sticks it in your ass at night. Go fuck yourself." She turned to Sylvie. "Yes, you're right - it's time to leave."

"Go to hell, bitch," Mike said, accent gone. "Get the fuck out of my store!"

"Oh, we're leaving," the tiger growled. "I just hope your customers don't realize this overpriced frou-frou shit re-tagged is just Walmart knock-offs!" The last part was yelled out so everyone in the store could hear.

Sylvie fought to hold back tears. She'd experienced this kind of prejudice from nearly every species all her life but she still found it hard to deal with. Aggressiveness was not part of her temperament - she left that up to Kat when they were together. Any other time she would simply leave, hide, and avoid that particular location in the future. She'd never stayed in one place so long where an argument about her was taking place.

Seeing her distress, Tiffany took Sylvie's arm and led her out the front door, pausing long enough to flip off Mike. Making it to the car, Sylvie settled into her seat, trembling, and finally began to cry.

"Hon, I'm sorry," Tiffany said, starting the car and backing up. "I never thought--"

Sylvie shook her head and took a bit of solace seeing most of the other customers were walking out of the store empty-handed. "I'm used to it," she lied. "Can you just take me home, now? I don't feel like shopping much anymore."

Tiffany pulled out onto the road and accelerated. "One quick stop, first."

"Tiffany, I don't think--"

"Just one quick stop. You'll feel better. I promise. Then, if after that, you still want to go home, I'll take you directly there."

Sylvie had no response and huddled into herself to watch the world pass by. She knew Tiffany had the best intentions - _hoped_she had the best intentions - but the tiger had never had to face what she had. Her mother had always told her "words can't harm you" and "people are mean" but when kids began to pull her pigtails or play kick the skunk on a dare she learned a new hurt and withdrew further into herself.

This had left her mother with a difficult decision one summer: allow Sylvie to stay in her room or, take the advice of a neighbour, and send her away to camp. Her mother knew either way would cost precious money of which they had little to spare.

"You'll go to camp and enjoy it. It'll be cheaper than sending you to a therapist," was all her mom had said in explanation, shoving the packed duffle into Sylvie's arm and pushing her toward the awaiting bus. The other kids were already staring out the windows, some making faces, and when Sylvie turned, her mother's car was already leaving in a cloud of dust.

On the bus, the other kids had already changed their seating arrangements and were spread out to ensure every seat was filled. Only an opossum girl sat alone in the second seat, looking as miserable as Sylvie felt.

"Take your seat, dear," the bus driver said, not unkindly. Sylvie sat beside the opossum, placing herself as far away as possible to avoid causing any more conflict. The brakes of the bus hissed and they were off to a destination Sylvie did not know. It had only been this morning her mother told her she was going to camp, before sending her back to her bedroom to put on different clothes. Now, two hours later, she was sitting on a bus, feeling the bumps of the road in her seat and the bumps of the paper wads on her back. The driver gave a half-sympathetic smile but said nothing.

After a half-hour of staring at the gum on the floor, Sylvie felt her arm bumped. "Sorry," she said, tucking into a tighter ball. A second bump on the arm caused her to look at the opossum and the bag of gummies she was holding. Looking back-and-forth between the other's face and hand, she received a nod and took a gummy. This received a smile and the opossum girl popped one in her mouth.

"Thank you," Sylvie said, biting the red and green worm in half.

"My name's Rachel," the opossum said.

"I'm Sylvie."

"I think we're going to be friends," Rachel said, offering more gummies.

"Here you go." Sylvie felt something bump her arm and shook the memory out of her head. "Syl, here. This is for you." Sitting up, Sylvie turned to see the hot fudge sundae Tiffany was giving to her. "Guaranteed to cure a bad day," the tiger said, before taking a drink of her shake and pulling back onto the road.

Sylvie took a bite, her taste buds screaming in ecstasy, and looked around. They were in a part of town which wasn't familiar.

"It's good, isn't it?" Tiffany said with a touch of excitement.

Sylvie took another bite. "Where are we going?" she said.

"One place. I guarantee this will be better."

"It can't help but be," Sylvie replied, another bite readying itself on the spoon. The sundae was good. Enough to make up for the boutique incident - probably not - but Tiffany was trying which, Sylvie had to admit, was more than most people would be willing to do. "One more stop," she allowed, and sat eating her sundae in silence while watching the buildings slide by.

Sylvie was scraping at the last bit of hot, now cold, fudge when she felt the car turn and bounce up the entrance into a parking lot. The jostling helped the bite find its way onto her spoon but the sight of the sign made her heart sink.

"The Booby Trap? Really, Tiffany?" The last bite was as good as the first but she was clearly disappointed about their new outlet.

"This will be better. I promise. And remember, you can go home right after if not."

Giving a slow shake of her head, Sylvie swallowed and readied herself for more disappointment and hurt. Once the car stopped, she climbed out, gave a silent sigh, and followed Tiffany into the store.

"Tiff!" a voice called and nearly tackled the tiger from the side.

"Hi, Heather," Tiffany said, only slightly sliding away from the large arms of the rabbit. "Long time, no see."

"You never called back after last time." The rabbit wore a look of hurt upon her face.

"You know, work, sleep, work again."

Heather flashed a grin. "All work and no play...."

"Easy. I do have work for you, though." Tiffany extended an arm towards Sylvie. "This is my friend and we need to find her something more fitting."

Sylvie prepared herself for the recoil, the horror to register on the rabbit's face, the screams to get out. She was not prepared for the closeness of the other and froze.

"She's cute, Tiff."

"Yes, Sylvie, is, but she doesn't play for our side."

"Oh, shoot." She flashed her grin at Sylvie. "You know if you ever want to try...." Sylvie knew her mouth was open in astonishment. No one, male or female, had ever offered to do anything sexual with her. Demand, yes, but never offered.

"Easy, Heather. I just brought her here to get her some new lingerie. My treat."

"Oooh," Heather said, genuinely amazed. "You'll be wanting the good stuff, then."

"Of course."

"Excellent." The rabbit clapped her hands rapidly. "I'll be right back," she excused herself and ran off.

"And that, Sylvie, is Heather - my sometimes on again, off again, girlfriend."

"Wow," was all Sylvie could manage.

"She is something." Tiffany gave a little laugh. "In more ways than one."

"I would have thought you--"

"Would have chosen another predator?" she quoted the word with her fingers. "Someone smaller?" She continued before Sylvie could say anything. "Heather and I worked at the Cottontail Club together. We struck up a friendship - something more in time - and when I left, so did she. She was the best bouncer they had, which is ironic considering her personality and current profession."

"She certainly seems happy."

"Very much so, and she's very good at what she does. Plus she doesn't have to deal with shit-faced assholes puking all over her when she kicks them out the door." Tiffany smiled, whether at her statement or a memory, Sylvie couldn't tell. "I know what she's going to get and it'll take her a minute. Let's go over here and see what she's got in stock on the floor."

Sylvie followed Tiffany over to a rack with bras in red and black lace. "What size are you?" the tiger asked, taking a look at her, and pawing through the selection.

"Um, 36B," Sylvie answered.

Tiffany gave a reproachful look. "Seriously?"

"It's what I've been wearing for years."

"And, let me guess. When you get home you want nothing but to take it off and everything aches?" Sylvie had to admit that happened to her more often than not. "Most women don't know their true size. Don't worry, I went through the same thing. Once I was properly fitted, there was no looking back. Now, I love nothing more than just walking around the house in my underwear, feeling sexy."

Sylvie saw the rabbit coming back with a selection of bras draped over her arm. "It's difficult to feel sexy when you have no one to feel sexy for."

"One thing at a time, Syl. One thing at a time." Tiffany gave a wink and turned to Heather. "We're not sure of her size. Can you find Mother Agatha?"

"Oh, you poor thing," Heather said to Sylvie. "I'll be right back." She laid the selection down on the table and disappeared into a back room.

"This is nice," Tiffany said, taking a teal satin bra from the pile Heather had brought and holding it up to her ample chest. "Not a big fan of the straps, though. If they offer strapless, however," she muttered. "Ah, here you go, Syl. What do you think?"

The proffered bra was deep, deep red and shimmered seductively in the light. In Sylvie's mind, the bra oozed sex and a night of passion and set her heart beating faster. She never would have thought about buying something like it and, with a chance look at the price, would have never had the means to do so. "It's very nice, but nowhere within my budget."

"I'll take that as a yes," Tiffany said, before holding up another one, and another one, and another one. They went through the whole stack by the time Heather came back leading a very old opossum. If it wasn't the cane in her hand, the cloudiness in her eyes told Sylvie she was blind.

"Here we go, Mother," Heather said, placing the old woman in front of Sylvie and taking her cane.

The opossum held up her hands and laid them on Sylvie's shoulders. Sylvie was too shocked to jump and simply froze when the old woman's hands found their way down her to her breasts.

Mother Agatha tsk-ed. "Poor child. Take that thing off and let's see what we can do for you." For Sylvie, this was all surreal, so having Heather behind her, unstrapping her bra beneath her shirt, seemed like part of the dream.

"Now hold your arms up and stretch to both sides," Heather said, showing Sylvie what she meant when she came back around. Sylvie did so and felt her body come back to an uncompressed state. "There you go, Mother."

Again, the opossum's hands found their way to Sylvie's chest. The pressure on her breasts was light and the old woman nodded in satisfaction. "Much better." Sliding her hands around Sylvie's rib cage, she gave another nod. "38D-ish. Respectable, given her species." She took her cane from Heather and hobbled down the aisle down to the back room.

"And all this time I thought she was blind," Sylvie said.

"She is," Heather replied.

"Then how--"

"She has her ways. Mother Agatha has been in the business for longer than I've been alive and she's always said she can tell one species apart from another by how their breasts feel."

Sylvie couldn't help a laugh of disbelief. "Surely she must get them wrong occasionally."

Heather bobbed her head in consideration. "Transsexuals can throw her off. And once we had this rat who'd shaped her ears and bobbed her tail to look like a rabbit." She gave a laugh. "I can't tell you the look on her boyfriend's face when he found out she was transspecies and she hadn't told him."

"Here, Syl. Go try this on." Tiffany was holding a simple cotton affair towards her. "It's the right size. See if she wasn't right."

"The dressing rooms and mirrors are that way," Heather said, pointing them out on the nearest wall.

Sylvie did as she was told and felt odd taking off her shirt in some strange place. The door was locked but standing partially clothed in stores always made her feel self-conscious. Letting the bra unfold, the shear size of it made her doubt the old woman's ability - this was much larger than anything she'd ever tried on before. Nevertheless, she clasped the ends, and twisted the bra around before sliding her arms through the straps. Adjusting the cups so everything would line up, she could immediately feel the support without the discomfort. It was as if some wonderful phantom were holding her and she wondered why she'd ever kept stuffing herself into what she had. A small jump in the mirror showed a pleasant, but not excessive, bounce, causing her to smile. Pulling off the tag, she saw the price was reasonable and left the bra on, pulling her shirt on over top. This time it took a little more effort for it to fall properly.

"I'll take it," she said, handing the tag to Heather. "If you have a trash can, you can throw that other thing away."

"I thought you'd feel that way. We already took care of it for you," Tiffany said.

"And don't worry about that one, hon," Heather said. "It's on the house."

"Really, I couldn't," Sylvie protested.

"I won't hear of it," Heather replied. "You've suffered enough."

"I...I don't know what to say. Thank you."

Heather smiled. "We all need a little something nice in our lives, every once in a while." Turning back to Tiffany, she said, "I'll have the other ones ready in about a week."

"Excellent. I'll see you then."

"Not before?" Heather gave a playful pout.

"We'll see." There was twinkle in her eye as Tiffany glanced at Sylvie. "It all depends on her."

Heather gave her a look of mock anger. "Ooh. A rival."

Sylvie had no time to respond as Tiffany took her arm and began leading her outside. "Thanks, again, Heather. Give me a call."

"You can bet on it," the rabbit said as the door shut behind them.

"So," Tiffany asked Sylvie as they walked back to the car. "Are you ready to go home?"

"You know, I think I might be able to go to a couple other places, if you're willing."

Tiffany unlocked the doors. "I thought you might say that. Which thrift store did you have in mind?"