FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

The sound of hammer on nail rang through the air, a rhythmic clanging that repeated over and over for several seconds before coming to a halt. A pause, and then it started again, lasting for a similar amount of time before silence fell once again. As it had many times in the past few days, and would do so for a while longer.

It was music to Bronson's ears, so long as it all went right. The donkey was more than used to it, considering it was his main trade. Construction and repair was what he put his time towards, and in a place like Aesop, there was more than enough demand for his services. Manpower was highly valued here, and heavy equipment was generally more of a supplement than the center of the work. Far fewer noxious gases put into the air, helping to keep the breeze fresh and clean...sure, it was work, but the work felt good.

Big jobs were one of the rare times when you'd see people wearing things in Aesop - even with the protections offered by Aesop's peculiar magics, safety was considered important. After all, it was protection, not immortality, and severe injuries were still very much a possibility. So personal protective gear was a requirement on any big work site with a lot of potentially dangerous implements around and the risk of falling from great heights, and compliance was an absolute. No one ever questioned it, and the record for safety was impossible to ignore - major injuries were a once-in-a-year event at worst on these sorts of sites.

But today, Bronson was not on a job site like that. He was working on his own, on a private property, doing a fairly simple job of putting up a wall of a shed, one of four that he'd been hired to replace, and he was about to finish the second. No power equipment, everything done by hand...well, there wasn't really THAT much to do overall, it wasn't a complicated job, a simple wooden shed without any real frills or specialties. He could put that up in his sleep almost. And that meant that he was working in his most preferred manner - wearing almost nothing at all. Only safety goggles and occasionally gloves, when needed. The rest of him was as buff as ever, providing a good bit of eye candy for anyone who was passing by.

And never was he happier for that than a day like that one, where the sun was beating down pretty heavily. It was plenty warm out, and he was glad that he'd brought his mini-fridge there with him, so that he had plenty of cold water and other drinks at hand. He wouldn't have minded some cloud cover or breeze, but one couldn't really control the weather, so Bronson had to make do with what he got. Another thing he was used to, but at least on a job like this he could work at his own pace - if rain delayed things, so be it, and on a hotter day he didn't have to take a fast pace if he didn't want to.

A few more rounds of hammering, and it was break time for Bronson, as the second wall was complete. He stepped back, wiping his brow and admiring his handiwork...it was nothing special, but it was solid construction, and that was the most important thing, especially when the request didn't have any aesthetic frills. He always felt good about something that was well-built, something that would last a while...he took pride in his work, he always made an effort to deliver something that wouldn't break down unless it was abused. There were things he couldn't control, of course, but anything he could, he tried to make sure it was ready for. By now, with over three decades of life experience under his metaphorical belt, there was a lot that he thought about when it came to these things.

"Well! Looks like it's coming along nicely!" Out from the house came Bronson's client - a corgi named Ferris, a shorter canine a few years older than Bronson with an average build and a fairly prim and proper countenance. He came off, in appearance and attitude, like someone who did not have a history of physical labor in the slightest, a very different type than Bronson. Which was fine, it took all types, but it just made for quite a contrast when they stood next to each other; in the ranks of 'outclassed,' Ferris even beat out Gage, and the wolf almost made being outclassed into an art form. "I didn't think it'd be getting done so quickly, you really are good at this, aren't you?"

"That's what I said, sir, and I stick by it." It was a confident response, maybe a hint challenging, but not so much that it would draw ire; Bronson knew how to hold himself by now.

"Yes, very nice, very nice...I don't think I can remember having such effective work before. Even with entire teams of contractors! They definitely build them differently here." Ferris still seemed a bit in reverence of Aesop's idiosyncrasies. Bronson had gotten the brief rundown on the corgi when they were discussing the work - Ferris was a recent transplant, having moved in just a few months back. Before his time in Aesop, he'd been the proud co-owner of a successful tech-sector start-up, having made quite a bit of money from his mid 20s on. He'd been extremely ambitious and driven back then, and had pushed for more and more even as he was already wildly successful, leading to some questions about what lengths he'd go to to secure a bigger market share and more prominence. And then, around two years ago, he'd had a massive heart attack which had nearly been the end of him. The near-death experience had brought about a severe change in outlook - his own business baby was killing him, and he no longer had the passion for such a high-stress and high-intensity environment. He'd sold off his part of the business, taking with him still a quite generous helping of wealth, and officially retired. To him, Aesop was the type of low-stress environment that he needed, for the sake of his health, and wanted, with his newfound appreciation for tranquility and relaxation.

It was a bit of an oddity to Bronson - wealthy people rarely found themselves fitting into Aesop, as typically those types were looking to continue to reap ad infinitum. But Ferris seemed to have lost his taste for acquisition; he had mulled out loud, in their conversation, whether the minutes he spent clinically dead may have affected his brain and altered his personality somewhat, though he doubted he'd ever be able to say for sure. He'd gotten very content with a low-key lifestyle, living a life closer to someone without the means to never worry about means again, albeit being fairly free with what he did have - for instance, he was paying Bronson quite a bit more than his quoted price, without any concern. Not that Bronson was complaining, Aesop was a place where one could more likely be comfortable without needing too much in the way of money, but it wasn't so apart from the rest of the world that finances were irrelevant.

"Hm, yes, yes...very nice..." Ferris was scrutinizing the work, looking over every corner of it. Bronson tensed a bit but tried not to let it show; it was natural for someone who took pride in his work to be a little touchy about such thorough inspections, like someone was looking for some flaw to point out, but it was also the nature of the business. After all, anything that didn't hold up wasn't going to reflect well on him, better to have errors pointed out during the time he could fix them.

"Well, it certainly all LOOKS very good," the corgi finally concluded as he straightened up, then turned around with a hint of a cheeky grin. "Of course, sometimes looks can be deceiving. Some stuff looks impressive until you really put it to the test and find out it folds under the pressure. I know that a little TOO well, myself."

"Er...yes, I suppose." He had to have been talking about his health crisis, Bronson presumed. "Well, if you're looking for an assurance, I suppose I can think of a way to put it to the test. You'll have to let me know what'll satisfy you, though, so I can do it right."

"What an apt choice of words." Ferris poked the donkey's abs, sticking his tongue out teasingly. "I think I know a good stress test...you pick me up and rail me with all you've got against it."

Well, now he felt a bit silly...that was a pretty obvious direction for things to take. Bronson certainly didn't mind plowing a nice, tight tush, especially against a wall, but one thing made it important to pause. "Are you sure you'll be all right? I know you've got a bit of a medical history, and I wouldn't want to make things worse."

"It'll be fine," Ferris assured him. "Since I started living the healthier, more laid-back lifestyle, I'm having far fewer issues, and the doctors say it's not a bad idea to get my heart rate up and stay active. Plus, this place helps keep any issues muted as long as I'm in tune with it. So don't be afraid to show me exactly what a stud like you can do to a little twinky lap dog like me."

Bronson smirked a bit as he set down his hammer - he wouldn't need it for THIS particular type of hammering. "Well, if you so insist, I'll be happy to show you the quality of THIS craftsmanship as well." He swept up Ferris, grabbing him under the arms and thudding him against the wall - gently, he wasn't trying to be violent, after all. Already Ferris was squirming and moaning a bit, and he was only just getting a slight rubbing from that prodigious donkey dong along his taint and his balls. And the wall was holding up perfectly fine...well, this wasn't the REAL test, though that was coming.

"Ohhh...my..." Ferris's voice was shivery, though Bronson could tell it was excitement rather than anything less pleasant. He wanted to be mindful of the corgi's health, even if Ferris was confident nothing would go wrong - at least keeping his wits about him wouldn't hurt anything. "So strong..."

"Enjoying this? You like being picked up and manhandled a bit, don't you?"

"Ah, y-yes...I...didn't used to, not before..." Ferris pushed into Bronson a bit, his legs trying to wrap around the donkey's thighs. "Bus since coming here...hn, hah, it's...been all I've found I've wanted...I never thought...there would be such a thrill in surrendering control..."

"Heh, you'll find plenty who'll be happy to give you exactly what you want." Bronson loomed large in Ferris's vision as he lined up to go in for the kill. "Like me." A slight tightening of his grip, and drove in, burying a generous portion of his cock into that tight pucker. Ferris's head jerked back, banging the wall slightly as he groaned out strained bliss from the sudden intrusion, clinging tightly to Bronson as he took that dick inside him. "Whoop, you okay there?"

"Perfect...more, please..."

"No problem. More coming right up!" Bronson stepped a little closer, gripping a little tighter as he began to thrust in earnest, not taking it gentle or slow as he worked the corgi's asshole with his oversized shaft. The bulge could easily be seen within Ferris's torso as he was plugged fervently, and one could also see the curly tail he sported wagging eagerly underneath. Pretty soon Ferris's mouth was hanging open, panting hard and tongue lolled out to the side a bit as he moaned out his robust pleasure.

It was turning Bronson on quite effectively; nothing got him revved up more than a little guy stuffed with what looked like too much dick, and enjoying the hell out of it. He stepped it up a notch, driving in harder and deeper, now letting his balls smack into Ferris's tight tush and the wall they were banging against, hilting him with every thrust and soaking that tailhole with copious helpings of precum. The sounds of their sex were getting slicker as it went on, and louder with every time Bronson stepped up the speed and intensity. With no sign of any distress from Ferris, he was getting into it more and worrying less about the corgi's health.

Of course, the harder he went, the more punishment he tested his new construction work with as well. The wall was creaking a bit with the force he was pushing against it with, but there were no signs of give at all. Bronson decided to really put it to the test, and kicked it up to high gear - suddenly he thumped against the wall and began to buck with furious energy, snorting and grunting as he buried his cock in that imposingly tight asshole and molded it to his will. Ferris's cries were getting higher and breathier, spiking whenever he jetted another bolt of preseed onto Bronson's abs, his stubby claws trying to dig into the donkey's arms as he enduring a stretching and prostate mauling that was making him see stars.

"Gonna be getting there soon..." grunted Bronson onto Ferris's ear, not letting up on the thrusts for a moment. "Want me to hose the wall down...or pump you up nice and full?"

"Gh! S...Sec! Second! L-let me...let me feel it, please!" came the halting response; Ferris sounded so wound up he might snap, he was clearly close too. So he kept at it, fighting the urge to release as he slammed away, trying to get Ferris to that pinnacle before he did. That twitching corgi dick looked like any slight touch would get it erupting, but he was too engaged in holding Ferris up against the wall to be able to provide, so the long way it was. He shortened his thrusts, doing quicker back-and-forth motions and getting his medial ring popping over the corgi's prostate over and over in rapid order.

Finally, this did the trick, as Ferris yipped out in rapture and his pointed tool started to jet its cream onto the donkey's front side. Bronson stopped holding back then, returning to full thrusts at full strength, slamming in and jerking out, another several thrusts until his own throbbing rod finally burst forth, deluging Ferris's insides with his thick, hot spunk. From there Bronson slowed considerably, but didn't stop, giving long, slow strokes back and forth, in and out, milking his cock using those tight insides as a sleeve, enjoying their clenching and massaging his shaft as he worked out bolt after bolt of donkey milk to fill that welcoming cavern. At his size, the leakage was only moderate, much of it was staying firmly stuck inside, adding to the swelling inside Ferris's midsection and giving his dick a nice bath in its own essence.

Finally, Bronson's movements came to a stop, as his load tapered off, no longer adding to the paunch of jizz contained within the corgi. Ferris's breaths were a bit labored, but he seemed otherwise fine, particularly with the blissed-out faraway look in his eyes. He was definitely only upright by virtue of Bronson's arms and the wall, which had stayed stubbornly stable the entire time. Grinning, he wrapped his arms around Ferris and stepped back from the wall, turning to help the corgi survey the results; the wall was perfectly unblemished apart from the splatter of some fluids. "Solid enough for you?"

"Ohhhh...my...yes, yes..." Ferris said breathlessly, leaning into Bronson.

"...Did you look at the wall, or were you talking about my pecs?"

"Ehe! I'd say...both work!" Ferris nestled into Bronson, seeming to have halfway checked out. "That was...deliciously draining...I think that's...all the workout I need for today..."

The donkey chuckled. "Let's get you somewhere to rest for a bit then. Wanna make sure I don't overdo it on you more than you can handle...though you sure do seem to like a good bit of overdoing it."

"Hm, I'm just finding...better ways of it." Ferris giggled a bit as Bronson carried him towards his house. "But yes...I will need to rest up for later...after all...there will, eventually, be three other walls to test..."

"And none of 'em's gonna be tested as much as these ones," snarked Bronson as he poked at the corgi's still-stretched pucker.

"I should hope not! It's the one that gets to play with the best tools."