FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

There was a time before the superior beings when tinnies would run around committing crime, petty or organized, completely unchecked. It was by the grace of their superiors that crime had been wiped out. It's easy when the ones who swear loyalty stay in an open area and you raise the rest of their precious cities to the ground. Soldiers crushed, beat, and tore apart their opposition limb from limb. Bullets and bombs were but minor nuisances. Tinny technology had been repressed due to their feeble minds and lack of comradery. Had they actually been able to form a cohesive society, they may have been able to stay top of the food chain.

But now they groveled at their superior's bloodied heels.

The great culling was many years ago. Many superiors crushed tinnies under heel, between bicep and pecs, and gnawed on the screaming sub-species to their hearts' content. Some superiors became addicted to the culling. The bloody genocide of these weaker beings that needed to be put in their place. Even after the great culling, tinnies outnumbered superiors a million to one; but that just means no one would miss them if a few went missing.

Oh, and how they brought so much joy to one particularly powerful Superior.

Officer Stan Melgar. The great culling war, if you could even call it a war, was still fresh in his mind. Other tinnies would have shattered minds at the atrocities that Officer Melgar had seen. Superiors shepherding tinnies into a trap, cutting off their escape, and mercilessly tearing them apart. Stan looked back fondly at blood stained fangs tearing into necks and chests, ripping out ribcage and viscera, biting into anything that screamed and ran. A bloodied frenzy of slashing claws and gnashing teeth. Stan would pile up bodies, sometimes four at a time, to create a throne for him to fuck on. Pinning and blood soaked superiors, muscles bulging and glistening with the blood of their playthings like they were oiled up, would grind their slick bodies together. Snowballing mangled corpses and body parts between them as they violently pleased each other. The pathetic souls hiding from their romp under the other corpses would scream as they were slowly crushed by the pounding of the titans above them. Slick innards would squelch and pop as they were meshed around Stan's dick for his pleasure. Slick, warm masses smashing into a ribbed condom of death as he entered many a hole and smeared their inferior blood as lube.

Not all the holes were that of superiors. The vice like tightness of a too small body, the hips acting as a pathetic cock ring that would snap and break, the warm confines tight only momentarily as the pressure was released out the purple, bloated end of that inferior being's skull. Powerful muscles would mash together in passion, abs like the jaws of a stone golem banging against another superiors chest to mash the weaklings into more paste for them to fuck, and fuck, and fuck, and...

HONK!!!

Stan was pulled from his memories as the car in front of him was blasting its horn to avoid being crushed. Officer Melgar's car was made for someone of his size. It was twice the size of any other vehicle with reinforced tires that took up both lanes. Flashing lights on the streets warned the tinnies to get out of the way, or be crushed. Stan was well within his right to take this cocky little's life.

And he would.

Stan pressed his foot down on the gas, his engine revving up in response. With the flick of a switch, lights and sirens blared from the roof of his car. The other vehicle speeding up to avoid being crushed.

"Officer Melgar?" a meager voice came from Stan's radio.

"What? I'm busy." He barked back.

"No, it's important. It's about that car you're chasing. The cameras identified the license plate as a potentially stolen car."

"Understood," Stan grinned darkly and flipped his radio off. He didn't need to hear any more from the people back at HQ. It was a building full of littles that guided Stan on his routes. A bunch of little ants dedicated to serving their superior's needs.

Stan grabbed the speaker from his console and held down the button.

"Pull over now, or prepare to face your superiors!" He ordered through his loudspeakers. The little in the car must have heard him, because he swerved off to the side. It looked like he was going for an alleyway that the officer couldn't follow him down, but lost control in his panic. He ended up bouncing the curb and slamming into a lamppost. He had slowed down, so there was minimal damage.

Stan only grinned wider as he rolled to a stop next to the crash and got out of his car. The imposing fourteen foot, German shepherd planted his massive stompers on the ground. His bare feet causing the earth to shake and crack under the sudden introduction of so much mass in a single location. The cop wore a signature officer hat; navy blue with the city's shield on it. Back in the day, the symbols the brass showed were eagles or some other proud bird, but now it was a maw wide and open ready to chomp down. The superior authority wanted to make sure everyone knew exactly what they would be getting if they got out of line.

Nobody was looking at that though. The muscles of that superior were, in themselves, superior. He had to be almost as wide as he was tall, bulging muscles and power coming out of every aspect of his body without looking bloated or restrictive. He was a paragon of what it meant to be a superior. If it weren't for his fur smoothing things over, the striations of his muscles would be on shredded display. His shelf like pectorals and abdominals that put cobblestones to shame weren't even flexed, yet bulged, veins angrily tracing across them. His prestigious bulge was held in a tight poser, if only to keep his junk from flopping around while walking. The root of that meat was on display as the fabric failed to lay flat against his waist, bowing down and pushing away to reveal that thick monster. Around his neck was a chain hooked into a badge that bounced off his pecs, occasionally being swallowed by them. Stan had lost many badges that way. An accidental pec bounce causing the metal to warp and break, but that was a problem for the tinnies to fix.

The only tinny he had his eyes on right now was his perp.

Stan went around his car to approach the car thief, only to see that he had diched the car and was running away on foot. Terrible mistake. The first thing animal handlers would tell you about predator species is to never turn your back. Second? To never run. Stan's heart skipped a beat, his veins throbbed with excitement, and his palms itched.

"A chase it is then," Stan growled through a dark grin as he stomped forward, rapidly picking up speed. The heavy footfalls could be heard for blocks as he pounded the sidewalk, his toe claws tearing up cement and his heels shattering concrete.

Stan's sensitive nose locked in on his prey. He was a golden lab, running scared. The smell of fear and traces of blood ignited a shark like fury in him.

"You're mine," Stan snarled, his vision tinted red.

Stan was getting closer, but his perp was running into a crowd to try and disappear. The perp was a well-muscled guy, large by tinny standards, but nothing too impressive. He could hide in a crowd, but he couldn't hide his sent.

"Out of my way! Officer in pursuit!" Stan snarled. The words no tinny wanted to hear. What that meant was that anyone who got between Stan and his perp was an accomplice, and he had every right to eliminate them.

It was chaos.

Everyone tried to get out of the way, to separate from the perp, but they didn't know who to run away from. So they just turned and ran. Turned their backs to a predator and started to run.

"Prey..." Stan huffed the word out, his breath so hot it caused the air to ripple. The massive wave of prey trying to run triggered a frenzy inside him. He was hot on the trail of his perp, that was his north star in the curtain of red falling over his eyes, but he was also back in the great culling. The countless pitiful creatures, scurrying like cockroaches, only to be stomped into bloody paste. He reached out and slammed someone into the pavement, crunching them like one would a soda can. The crunch, the wet squelching and cracking of bones sent shivers up Stan's forearm. He didn't stop though. He was in pursuit, and plenty of accomplices in the way.

Stan's dick twitched.

Stan was basically running on all fours, but it was just so that his hands could reach into the crowd better. To...part them. Part their top halves from their bottoms. Stan's claws sheered through flesh, tearing cloth, fur, and skin. No one was spared the officer's rampage as he searched for his perp. Women dove to protect their children, only to be crushed under heel as Stan trampled them under his massive feet. Furs tried to dodge out of the way, only for Stan to huff like a beast in rut at the feeling of solid bodies crunching like jam filled bubble wrap. Their bones so brittle compared to his size and might. It was a one sided fight and a hopeless battle.

Despite the delectable, warm slickness between his toes and pads, he never slowed down. He knew how to run in blood. Stan's toe claws slashed through bodies and into earth to propel him forward. Blood splattered the officer, drenching his hands and feet in a mixture of gore and viscera. His badge marred with the blood of the beings he swore to "protect."

It was a hollow promise. Everyone knew Stan couldn't be denied as a superior. Any promise he made to tinnies was worthless and would never be unhealed in a real court of law. So he barreled forward, his path a bloody river of screams and ruined lives.

"Please, officer..." They never finished their sentence as Stan's maw snapped down on their head and tore it from their body, spraying blood across his chest. He didn't even register who it was, just that they were an accomplice by proxy.

Then, that's when he found him. He saw the face in the crowd, the sent trail lead straight to him. Stan pounced.

As Stan gripped the golden retriever's legs, they shattered in his grip. He wasn't controlling his strength and gripped the perp by both legs in one hand. The motion crushed them both, his legs becoming mangled stumps as he screamed in horror.

"Got you!" Stan snarled and lifted him up, having him dangle upside down.

"Please!" He screamed through the pain. "Don't kill me please! I have a family! I don't want to die!"

"Should have thought about that before you stole that car." Stan snarled through a crooked grin, the head of that victim still in the corner of his mouth. Stan bit down on that skull, causing it to shatter and splatter gray matter all over the face of his perp.

"Oh god...g-god...g-g-g-g..."

Stan chuckled and spat out the rest of the skull on the ground with so much force it splattered and chipped the curb.

"They all say that," Stan chuckled. "Like I give a shit how a bunch of tinnies breed or worship."

"Wait..." the golden paused, a thought breaking through the fear. "Did you say stolen car? Th-That car is mine." He smiled as he saw a glimmer of hope.

"Sure, and I'm the king of England." Stan laughed. (Bit of history, the entire British monarchy and parliament were eaten alive, slowly, savored, before grinding their castles and buildings to dust. So the saying "King of England" was a more farfetched claim.)

"No-no! You don't understand. I reported my car stolen a week ago, but I found it. M-M-My son had taken it and brought it back. He's just fourteen and can't drive, so he was ashamed at how much trouble it caused."

"Likely story," Stan knew the golden was telling the truth. He could smell it on him, but after all that carnage, his dick was _literally_harder than steel. He wanted to have some fun. He shook the man, his body jingling and his legs tearing as he did so. The golden screamed in pain, begging for mercy.

Then, it fell, the man's wallet. With masterful control he picked the wallet up and used his thumb to flip it open and pull the ID.

"15 Violet Street, right?"

"Y-y-yes..." he sobbed. "please! The car is mine...I just want to see my family."

Later Stan would find out the car was indeed _not_stolen. This whole debacle was a mix-up of paperwork. Even at the time, he was convinced by the man's story, but that wasn't what Stan's problem was. Paperwork was a tinny's problem. No, Stan's problem was that his balls hadn't been this blue in a long time. Stan turned to look at the torn up pavement and mangled bodies. There had to be at least fifteen people, half dead and the rest dying in different states of dismemberment. He growled lustfully.

"I want to believe you, I really do." Stan started, pulling the golden up to face level. "But then again, why did you run like that?"

The hope faded from the golden's eyes. Fear, and probably a bit of shock, was making him shake and sweat.

"I promise...it's my car..." he whimpered.

"Even if it is, you still ran from your superior. You defied my orders. Now...look what happens when you defy your superiors."

Stan dropped the tinny and he landed face down in a puddle of blood. He looked up and his eyes went wide at the suffering people before him. A trail of ruined bodies and mangled corpses.

"You caused all this, and now you're going to pay the price." Stan tore off his posers, the blood stained fabric falling away, but getting caught in the shep's thick thighs. The heat the officer was packing slapped wetly against his abs, thick splotches of blood splattering over his chest.

"Women and children too..." he muttered out before two massive knees slammed down on either side of him. The golden put his head down in fear, but Stan wouldn't have it.

"Oh no, you're going to look," he growled lustfully as he gripped the golden by his hair and forced him to look up. How he managed to do it without snapping the dog's neck was a true display of control the shep had over those life ending muscles.

"Please no..."

"Open your eyes," Shep ordered. "Or do I need to teach you what it means to defy us again?" Stan pressed his thumb into the small of the golden's back. It snapped like a toothpick. His spine forcibly arched as his eyes shot open.

"That's better. Too bad you didn't learn how to listen before now. You might have been able to see your family again." Thick globs of pre dripped onto the golden's back like hot candle wax. He was in so much pain, he couldn't talk, just grunt and groan. Stan grabbed a survivor from his rampage who was trying to drag themselves away. She screamed briefly before he closed his fist, her chest cavity exploding crimson lube everywhere, dripping down onto Stan's dick and getting him ready for the main event.

"They all had families, just like yours. The family you'll never see again." Shep chuckled. "But I'll find them."

That caught the golden's attention. He gargled, blood oozing from the corners of his mouth.

"I got your address, and I'm going to follow up on that stolen car." He pulled his hips back and lined his dick up with the golden's ass.

"P-p-plea..." the golden couldn't even finish the word as Stan shoved his dick forward. That cock head was almost as wide as the tinny himself. There was no way that hole could fit him, but it was only a matter of applying the right amount of pressure to make a hole that would.

"I'm going to track down your entire family. I'll get their scent just like I did yours today...mmmm..." Stan moaned as his pre shot out of him. It was like a bullet into the guts of the golden. He screamed and gargled out in pain.

"I'm going to make sure they suffer more than you. I'll make your fucking wife watch while I crush your son into paste."

"She's preg..." the golden couldn't finish, but Stan knew what he meant.

"Another criminal on the way? Better pop her before the baby does." Stan's lustful growls echoed off the walls of the surrounding buildings. Everything was silent except the sirens of his rover in the distance.

"For now though. I'm going to fuck you into the concrete, you worthless scum."

"It's my car..." Those were the golden's last words as Stan thrust forward. His dick tore through the golden's ass, the hip bones of his perp acting like a separate pucker that quickly shattered. He thrusted into the body cavity, the mess of organs slick and warm on his dick as he pulled back. The last few seconds of the golden's life was spent being a tight condom of guts and gore for Stan's amusement, and he wasn't going to let up. He started to pound down, harder and faster. Blood and paste oozed out of the golden's mouth, his eyes popping out of his sockets form the pressure.

It wasn't enough for Stan though. He grabbed a couple other survivors and slammed them down on the golden's body for more pressure. He thrust his hips, his dick pounding that thick slick cavity into a soup of destroyed organs. The two he grabbed were still alive, but he ended them with a powerful thrust, the tinnies screaming as Stan made more lube for himself. Their flesh slick and slimy on his dick.

"That's right you tiny filth! Take my dick! Be fucking useful for once! Feel the full force of your superior's justice!" Stan's hips were a blur as his nuts smacked the bloody heap in front of him. It still wasn't enough. He lunged forward, his dick shredding through the mangled remains as he grabbed a few more groaning littles and fucked them into paste, each thrust causing the pavement to shake and crack as he fucked the lesser beings into the ground. With his thrusts he made a death trench for those tinnies, the very ground parting against his thrusts. Better than this fuck trash deserved!

Stan's thrusts had tectonic force, the city block shaking as he fucked his justice into the worthless tinnies beneath him. The trench he was forming cracked and rattled with his unrelenting force. Blood practically sprayed and became a mist with how much force was behind those thighs. Strands of crimson gore strung between his thighs and the pile of death he was making. The only law of the land was Stan's. He was judge, jury, and fucking executioner! Their crime? Being born tinnies!

"Fuck!" Stan thrusted forward, his cock head breaking through the mass of bodies, and shot. His cum stained crimson from his victims. Like powerful gunshots, those ropes slammed into the other corpses, lancing them, forcing them into the great beyond with the very essence used to make life. Stan's cumshots were just too much for these lesser beings. He couldn't breed with them if he wanted to. Instead, they would be his fuck toys. Objects for his desires, and he wasn't going to ever stop fucking this city. This was Stan's city, and he it would kneel before him or face his justice.

Those thick ropes took out another three people, their heads being taken off with the force of cannonballs before Stan's dick subsided. He groaned and stood up, his dick still hard. He huffed and brushed some corpse pieces off before sauntering back this car, bloody footprints smearing the streets as he did so. Stan got in his rover and flipped on his radio.

"Stan! Please stop, the car was..."

"I'm hanging it up for today." Stan interrupted the voice on his radio. "I'm spent. Keep this city in one piece until tomorrow when I get back."

"Stan, you need to..." Stan flipped the radio off.

"HQ is going to burn tomorrow if they keep trying to tell me what I need to do." Stan growled. "I need a drink." He huffed, a cocky grin forming on his blood stained canines. He turned off the sirens and sped off. This was just the foreplay for tonight. Stan's dick beat against his steering wheel, smearing it with blood.

"Let's see if Big Dick Rick and Crass have opened the bar yet."

To be continued...