FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

It started the same each night.

His surroundings were illuminated by a single hanging light that did nothing to cut away the darkness beyond its circle. Damian found his wrists hoisted above his head, locked tight by leather cuffs. His body hung straight, feet planted on the floor and separated by a spreader bar, exposing his privates and ass for anyone watching from the shadows. The doberman was naked, his cropped tail frozen with a wide plug filling the hole just under it. Cries were turned unintelligible by the painfully wide ballgag in his maw. He lapped his tongue at it, failing to do little more than pool saliva behind it, seeping out slowly onto the rims of his hooded mask, and the small puddle below.

He had no memory of how he arrived. But what came next was cemented in his mind.

Footsteps echoed across cold cement. Each click of the heel sent a new shiver down his spine. One hand grabbed his head and pulled him back, the other wrapped latex digits around his throat, tight enough to hold his breath. "You call yourself an alpha." The feminine voice spat venom with each word. "The top dog of your precious territory. The tough guy who sends all the upstarts packing as soon as he gives one little look of warning."

She let go, letting his nose gasp for sweet air. "But, we both know that's a lie, isn't it?" Damian saw the shine of her boots on the edge of the light. His jailer circled him like prey, waiting to pounce on her helpless target. Chains rattled as he shifted to follow, "Stand still!" Her voice boomed. His ears drooped, head falling in fear and obedience.

Her laugh echoed off the obscured walls. "That's really all it takes, isn't it?" The voice surmised. "You'll bend your knee to anyone, anyone who is really willing to challenge you. Cause you're not some top dog. Not some pack alpha waiting to put others in line." She stepped into the light before him. Another doberman, her form sleek but powerful, a fighter like him. Latex boots laced up to her thigh, with a matching black corset locking around her stomach, leaving her small breasts bare to reveal the tiny barbell piercings. Elbow-length latex gloves crossed each other as she looked down with disappointment, her icy-blue eyes staring through his soul.

Her spit against his chest burned more than any bullet.

Fear gripped him, but it did not control his actions. Another feeling, much more fowl, filled his nerves when her palm embraced his hood: desire. She grimaced, locking one hand against his neck and another slapped across his hooded face. Even through the leather, he felt her sting, open palm and backhanded. "Disgusting freak," She spat, saliva hitting him between the eyes. "How can someone like you lead?" Any answer he could give was made irrelevant as her fingers grabbed his nipples and twisted. Pain cried out from his gullet, his teeth digging into the gag to relieve it.

Her laughter echoed against the forefront of his mind. Heat swelled in his crotch, letting his erection peel out for her to see. "Are you getting aroused by this?" She smiled, sadism replacing the cold glare in her eyes. Her knee slammed against his crotch and stayed there, grinding at his erection from the shaft to the knot. Damian's high pitched yelps were muffled, but his cock betrayed his fear.

Or it expressed his true feelings.

"You're nothing but a dirty masochist, aren't you?" She let go, pushing him forward to let the doberman spin slowly. "Is it the pain you get off on? Or the humiliation? The reminder that you're just some pathetic omega pretending to be an alpha?" He lost her in the shadows. Wood, chains, and metal rattled in the darkness beyond him. Damian winced at each noise, his nubby tail desperately trying to hunch between his legs. His damnable cock continued to stand tall, pulsing and pink before his assailant.

His ears perked at the noise before he felt it. The screaming of wind passing through drilled holes, followed by the crack of wood against his bare bottom. Pain shot through his backside, his legs kicked up to run but bindings kept them in place. Her hand reached for him from behind, roughly holding his head steady for the next three swings across his ass. Each pushing the plug deeper.

His gagged screams mixed with each crack, with whimpers remaining as she stopped. The paddle clattered against the floor. She turned back to face him, both hands wrapped around his head and pulling him closer. He could smell her sweat, her desire. His cock twitched, shivering as she pressed herself against it. "Do you want to fuck me?" She whispered, kissing his ballgag. Damian's jaw tightened, wanting nothing more than to smash the gag and embrace her tongue with his own.

"I bet you do. I can feel your cock pulsing against me." She directed it down her stomach, arching his rod against her bare pussy. Her juices dripped over his dip. "Yes, you want it. I bet you'd do anything to feel my womb. To take my loving embrace around that pretty dick." As she spoke, her hand trailed down and massaged along the length of his cock. The latex had a warm, yet impersonal touch, blocking her true embrace against his desires. "What," her grip stopped at the head, "Makes you think," Her fingers dug in. He squealed, "I'd ever accept your dick?"

Damian's reflexes back his hips away, but her grip made it all the worse. She squatted down, reaching and pulling at his sack before slapping it. His legs collapsed, body held only by the chains above and the cuffs digging into his wrists. Still, she continued her assault, her words biting almost as painfully as her open hand. "You're nothing but a bitch. A low level runt pretending to be top dog. The only reason I'd ever need your seed is if I wanted to breed more masochistic mutts. And why waste months carrying that when I can find some side cunts to bear your defective seed?"

The pitch of his cries scratched at his throat. When she finally let go, his sack ached and throbbed despite his standing arousal. A pool of pre slipped from his rod onto the floor, begging for attention from her tongue. Attention that he would never get, not without pain.

In his delirium, the chains went loose. The doberman was slowly lowered to the floor, falling to his knees. She held his head aloft, keeping him steady. His eyes wandered to meet hers but stopped at the noticeable, and purple dildo attached to her crotch. "Oh, has the mutt noticed?" His mistress snickered, taking her fat fake phallus in one hand. It was too wide for her to wrap her fingers around it, thicker and longer than his own. It flopped around, a cruel mimicry of a soft cock that Damian knew damn well wouldn't be when inside him.

"I'm going to take your gag out." She stroked the purple cock as she spoke, "And I don't want to hear a single peep out of you. Got it? Not. One. Peep." The last three lines were accompanied by silicon slap from her strap-on. He nodded with each hit, his nubby tail wagging from his debasement. True to her word, she pulled the gag out from his maw. Aches crawled out from the sides of his jaw, but Damian had no time to rest them. Not as his mistress clamped his nose shut, and forced the rod into his mouth.

She did not stop for his gags, his cries, or his heaving. His mistress only pushed into him, carrying a dark smile under her icy blue eyes as he clung to life. "Look how greedily you swallow it, you masochistic mutt." She laughed, holding his head with both hands. She thrusted her hips into him, forcing the doberman's lips to touch the base of her strap-on. Even with his hands free, Damian couldn't fight against her. His cock had all the oxygen it needed.

He felt the urge to puke when she pulled out, only to have it stuffed back when she stuffed him again. His gurgles filled the void around them, saliva trailing from his lips as she selfishly fucked his throat. Just as Damian felt his lungs ready to pop, she pulled out of him, leaving a thin bridge of saliva between him and her cock to break under gravity.

She let him cough and gag, spewing whatever heaved from his throat. "Fucking pathetic." His mistress's words bit into him harder than any lashing. She pushed the ballgag back into his maw before he could protest. "Stay quiet. I don't want to hear anything remotely coherent from a fuckup like you. You still can't even take this thing." She slapped him upside the head, "Do I need to wear it around the house? Make you kiss the base before you leave to be with your precious crew?"

She kicked him forward, forcing Damian onto his face. He winced as latex fingers gripped his ass, twisting and pulling at the plug buried between those cheeks. "You best better hope there's still some lube leftover from this," She growled, popping the plug out. The open presence of his backdoor told the doberman what was coming, and he quivered for it. "Cause your saliva is all I'm using after that poor excuse of a throat fuck." Tip braced against his tailhole, Damian quivered as his mistress pushed in, spreading him wide with every inch pushed. He cried out, pleasure and agony mixed together as she hilted him.

"That's right." She grabbed his hood, pulling him to her maw to better hear her whispers, "Cry for me, bitch. I wanna hear your screams."

***

Laura's eyes shot open, catching the motion of her ceiling fan in darkness. For one agonizing moment, she stared up at the ceiling, the lights from the street filtering through her blinds to remind her the sun had not yet risen.

Then her alarm went off, and she crawled out of bed. One look in the bathroom mirror told Laura she was in for a day. Her icy blue eyes had bags under them and struggled to stay open. By now, she figured she'd grow used to the taste of coffee. It still made her wretch whenever she thought of making it.

The sacrifices made to keep things going.

One quick shower to wake her up and wash away her thoughts, Laura put on her nurse scrubs and headed into the living room. The sun finally broke through into her apartment, casting blades of light through her living room window to reveal what a mess it was. A table covered in mail she intended to throw away, a countertop covered in dishes she'd cleaned but neglected to put back. It wasn't even her job to clean them. It hadn't been for months.

"What's the point of the fucking chore wheel?" She muttered to herself, forcefully shaking a paper carton she pulled from the fridge. Vanilla flavored protein shake to get her day started. A breakfast she only tolerated because she could drink it.

An alarm buzzed from down the hall, only to be quickly silenced. She heard it again five minutes later, and another five minutes after that. Too tired to sigh, Laura pushed herself forward in fury and opened the door at the end of the hall. "Get up already!"

"Five more minutes." Damian rolled over, clutching his pillow around his head like he could block out the noise.

"We've been over this, Damian." Laura ripped the blanket off the bed. His boxers were too tight on him, straining at his morning wood poking out from the seam. "You live under my roof, you're on my schedule. Now get up."

"What the fuck?!" He rolled over, covering his privates. "Can't I have a little privacy here?"

"I work in a hospital, bro." Laura crossed her arms, "You think your dick is anything special? I can tell you I've seen more privates there than you have online."

He scoffed, "And you're proud of that?"

"I'm proud that I got a job that needs my attention." Only half of that was a lie. "Now get dressed, you can nap on campus." His college served breakfast on school grounds, so she could just drop him off there. Better than having him take her breakfast shakes, they were expensive enough as is. "I'm probably gonna be working late tonight," She said, parking her car in the nearest campus lot.

"Shocking." Despite his smile, she could tell he didn't care.

"What'll be shocking is if my dishes aren't put away when I get home."

"And how am I supposed to get home without a ride?" By the angle of his grin, Damian must have figured his comeback was clever. The dead eyes from his sister stripped that smile asunder.

"You have Uber on your phone, genius, and enough cash to use it. Now go to class. Make mom and dad proud." Her eyes trailed behind him, watching him leave to make sure he went directly where he was supposed to go. No, that was a lie she told him.

In truth, she just wanted to admire his ass. "Fuck me..." She sighed, resting against her steering wheel for a good minute before backing out, "One of these days, I'm gonna wake up and that won't be a fucking dream." She chuckled, "Bet he'd actually clean if he was my gimp."