FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

Author's Note/Disclaimer: Browse porn sites while you're still not old enough. It's no fun when it's not illegal.

Utoph City. They called it that, because "Utopia City" or something similar somehow seemed bland. It was a city that truly was made to be a paradise. You know the drill: no crime, no homeless, low pollution, advanced technology, that whole thing. Ah, yes, it was the perfect place and time to live. Everyone smiled as the drove down the street to work, and there were never ever any car wrecks, because all cars were guided with GPS systems and electronically responsive to streetlights. Every car was made of magnetic metal of the same charge, so that they would repel each other even if they ever did get close, but they were programmed by computers and controlled to never get closer than 7 feet anyways, usually more. Every child smiled as they rode their bicycles down the road to school. Every person always smiled as they bagged up your groceries at the stories.

Everyone just kept fucking smiling. All the time. It absolutely drove William Ruther insane.

How can these people smile like this when they live in such a terrible world, coated with sugar on the outside? Oh, it's because they don't even know, Will told himself mentally, sipping on some caffeinated drink to keep himself awake during these long night shift hours. His job was security, but not common security like a mall police officer. This light smoke-grey coyote was on of the many people in charge of forcing peace in Utoph. To keep the people unaware of any kind of crime, no matter how small and make them think the world is perfect. Anyone who did any kind of crime had to be punished severely and made absolutely sure the person would never admit to the crime to anyone else and to never do it again. These people would immediately be put on a "hot list" and be kept under heavy observation for the rest of their lives, kind of like probation. But a lot worse. For if you ever did another crime, you would be killed and the death would be staged as an accident, or maybe you would decide to take a nice long vacation to Hawaii indefinitely.

After ten years and now being aged nearly thirty, William couldn't handle it for much longer. All the lack of sleep, all the unjustified suffering of people just so these idiotic cops, politicians and everyone else can pretend they live in a perfect world without war. The innocent suffered so the corrupt could make money on the ignorant. It wasn't that much different than a normal world, the coyote humored himself, except a lot less fun. The Internet is a lot less entertaining without music, videos and porn to pirate. No underaged drinking, either. That one really carried quite the penalty. A chemical injection was invented some years ago specifically for that purpose, injected into the bloodstream of so many unlucky college students. It was somewhat of an acid that only reacted to alcohol and pretty much instantly detoxified the person, but it was extremely painful and sometimes could cause internal bleeding if the poor young fellow had a strange reaction to it, perhaps an allergy to one of the ingredients and whatnot. Two people have been recorded (top secret, of course) to have actually died from the chemical, but that was only two out of millions of people! Sure, there were some thousands of disabled survivors, but that's less than even one percent. It was a small price to pay for a perfect world where no one was aware of people who broke the law. Any accidents resulting from this chemical was simply excused as children getting too drunk and having the worst of negative impacts and using it as propaganda to teach children in school to not drink.

Ironically, drinking and driving was now legalized, since no one actually drove anymore. It's all done with computers, as said before. What a crazy world.

"Please, don't hurt me. I- AAAAAAAGH!"

A frail young adult fox screamed in pain as he was shocked repeatedly. He had committed rape for the second time. In this world, there weren't any third chances. William watched and listened from a monitor labeled "Punishment Room 0063". Two big greyhounds held sticks that looked like they were used for 'taming' wild animals that have gone wild and returning them to the pound.

Shock after shock, scream after scream, Will had to listen to it all. Watch it all. Blood began to ooze out of the fox's mouth and nose, his eyes bulging out to a disgusting degree. Why was this done instead of some kind of painless death? In fact, why death? Well, the perfect world needs no prison, no one commits crime here! Of course, duh! And it was believed in the stupid sick twisted belief that the person should be punished all the way to his or her next life so that the lesson of discipline will travel with the spirit.

To finish the job, they poured water over the fox's body and stuffed one of the rods down his throat, electrocuting him until his skin was burnt and his whole body smoking. Water? Oh, why the dogs were wearing specially-designed suits, they were safe from the electrical currents. Mr. Fox was dead, on the other hand.

The two assholes laughed and high-fived each other before walking out of the room, a janitor later coming and cleaning up the slop and disposing the body into the furnace. The perfect world has no cemeteries or graveyards. You can't have a perfect world with memories of death.

After a long, hot shower inside of his shitty apartment (since when did government jobs ever pay well?), Will stared at himself in the mirror, still naked and dripping with water. Flashes of the fox being electrocuted painfully to death rushed back to memory, making him jump and yelp. But he immediately calmed down and stared into the mirror blankly. All of his bosses, all of those lawmakers, their faces swarmed his vision, they all laughed at the people who had to suffer. None of them cared about a truly perfect world, just one that seemed perfect on the outside for everyone's enjoyment.

A loud crash echoed in the bathroom from Will's fist smashing into the bathroom mirror. He yelled out in anger and grabbed a piece of glass, cutting his arms and chest and stomach all over until blood covered him. He wanted to die right here and now. This world was totally and utterly doomed to die in despair due to its lack of ability to face the truth: the truth that life is ugly. To face the truth of what they all are inside, to acknowledge what being alive means. What the flaws of emotions and ambition and love and lust were. This world didn't want to face what it meant to free.

Will dearly hoped that this would actually kill him and that no one would find him. Suicide was also very illegal here, because you can't have a perfect world when someone is depressed. I mean, what is there to possibly be depressed about?! THE WORLD IS PERFECT, HOW CAN ANYONE BE SAD?!

As more blood kept oozing out, the canine could feel his life fading, everything becoming duller and weaker. His breathing slowed with every passing second, until he blacked out.

Suddenly, Will was standing in a big hustling city. Bumper-to-bumper traffic with people honking their horns angrily at each other, the sky filled with smog, a homeless person sleeping on the sidewalk with a hat that the occasional person threw a few quarters or dollars into. One guy was even being mugged in an alley and no one seemed to give a shit. What the hell was this place?, he thought.

William walked down the sidewalk, with tons of people all around, bumping into his shoulder while chatting on their cell phones. Eventually, he stopped at a TV store, with a few televisions on display in the window next to the sidewalk to advertise to customers. They were turned on to the news station.

War, famine, homeless people, natural disasters, car wrecks, murder, everything! Whatever this place was, it was the exact opposite of where he was from. But then the most magical thing happened. The news lady began to talk about strange things, like people getting to vote for whether or not a law would be passed or not, they got to vote for who became their new leader. They weren't killed for committing a couple petty crimes. This world was the kind of world that could only exist if the people accepted themselves for what nature had created them to be.

William opened his eyes to see himself back in his bathroom. His blood, from the looks of it, had dried hours ago and clogged the bleeding. He must've not cut deep enough to die, but still enough to pass out. Another shower was required to wash all the blood off, but Will was too fatigued and told himself that he'd simply do it in the morning.

A small male fox, probably only thirteen, cried heavily in a metal chair inside of an empty Punishment Room 0795. His name was Drew, and he had attempted to run away from home for the fifth time. Well, this time, it would be reported that his runaway attempt was successful, though the reality was far too harsh for Utoph City to accept.

William stood in front of the child for real, not in front of a monitor like usual. Why? A few of the executioners called in sick, some others were on vacation. Guess people still got sick in a utopia. Maybe they were faking it.

"Why did you do it?" the coyote asked, looking to the kid sadly. He hated the thought of what he would have to do soon. There was no way to rescue the innocent person, not with cameras recording everywhere and probably someone watching.

"..." The fox kid didn't answer, instead of lowering his head and ears. He did whisper something, but it was too quiet to hear.

Will took a few steps closer and leaned forward. "Please, tell me."

"Why do you give a fuck?! Just kill me and put me out of my misery!" he yelled back loudly, almost jumping despite being tied securely to the chair.

The outburst took the older male by surprise. He wasn't sure how to react to that at first and... he suddenly began to cry, hugging the kid closely.

"Wh-...what are you doing?" the vulpine asked, looking obviously scared about being touched by someone.

"I give a fuck because I don't want to kill an innocent little KID!" Will screamed into the boy's face. "But, what I want doesn't matter in this shit hole of a world. If I don't, they'll kill me and then someone else will kill you anyways. The least I can comfort myself with is knowing why I'm doing this."

"Hah!" the kid laughed. "Comfort yourself? You're going to kill me and you want comfort? Go fuck your dad."

A harsh slap with a nightstick struck the fox's nose. Blood began to stream out in thick amounts, indicating someone was probably broken. The pain was so intense and he was so shocked that he couldn't even scream.

"I'm sorry," Will apologized. "Please, tell me."

"B..b..." the fox tried talking, but thick gobs of blood kept being spat out instead.

Just when he was about to beat the kid to death with the stick after losing hope of the fox being able to talk, "Because they raped me."

Clack. The stick fell to the ground and Will simply stood there, staring at the kid in disbelief. "Tcccth...ey raped me every night. My parents. But they can't be punished like me, because they..."

"They what?"

After spitting out more blood, "Because my parents are Gregory and Mally Utoph."

This boy was the son of the two top dogs - or bunnies, rather - of Utoph City. Why didn't he recognize him before? He saw the kid walking around with his mother and father a couple times in the Utoph HQ Security building once or twice. So, his parents raped him all the time, and they're going to kill him because he might tell someone why, completely shattering the "perfect world" philosophy. Oh, crap, the security cameras record audio. Hopefully today's short-handed staff would mean that no one was watching the video/audio feed in the security room right now.

He took one last look at the sheet and clipboard in his left hand. It listed very little, not even the boy's name. Only the room number, that the person was a fox and needed to be punished by: beaten to death with a blunt weapon and, the part that Will had missed before, raped near and continued to be raped after death.

...Wait, what?!

No, no!

William screamed and threw the clipboard so hard against the wall that it broke. The fox child screamed in fear as the coyote went on a rampage, entirely losing it and smashing his nightstick againts everything nearby: the floor, walls, door, even himself a few times. His mind had collapsed, finally having reached its limit.

"Please, stop!" the fox begged. "Whatever you have to do, please do it fast. I don't want to be terrorized on top of it all!"

Yes, get it over with, Will thought. Like he had said before himself, he will die if he doesn't do what the clipboard told him to. If he died, nothing would change and the world would go on like it always has been. The dream he had when he cut himself and assumingly almost died in the bathroom would never become a reality. The dream would die with him. This was a gruesome, totally unwanted task, but it was an ordeal that had to be dealt with.

"Forgive me," was all the coyote said as he smashed his weapon against the young child's face two more times, then one again in the stomach. He had to get the kid near death first...

Several more hard hits to the head seemed to do the trick pretty well, so Will closed his eyes and bit his bottom lip hard while sliding his pants off. He wasn't hard at all and he didn't know how he would really be able to do this.

Kicking the pants aside, he started to undress the half-conscious fox and ripped the pants to shreds with his claws. The kid had a good-sized package for his age from the looks of it, but being beaten close to death, he wasn't hard any, either.

"Oh God," he muttered to himself, cursing mentally about how much of a worthless shit he was becoming for doing this. His life was pitiful and he was only a weak little meaningless pawn.

Will reached down to his sheath, fondling himself and his large fuzzy sac enough to make himself moan lightly, despite the situation. He closed his eyes and tried to think of something actually decent, like sex with a hot sweaty white wolf with a big cock and firm ass. Yeah, that's a pretty good one. Will started jerking himself once he was hard enough until he got to full length, then, still with his eyes closed, opened the boys mouth and shoved his cock in, trying to imagine it being the wolf in his imagination instead, to make it easier. He thrusted into those tight black lips of the white-furred creature, leaning his head back and yelling in ecstasy. Damn, this felt so good, that mouth so tight and so warm. Every thrust was harder and went deeper into the throat. His knot began to inflate and he didn't care. He kept pumping and pumping, pre-fluid dribbling out all over the tongue and throat. Gagging and choking sounds were unheard to the coyote's ears. With one final thrust, his knot inflated and totally cut off the airway, clogging the boy's throat. At the same time Will was yelling to the best muzzlefuck of his life, his own semen and the fox's blood choked him to death. Will kept cumming for a short while even after life had parted.

It wasn't until that was over had Will realized what he had really done.

How... could...

That night, William tossed and turned in his bed, having endless nightmares back to back. The sweat dripped off of his body so much that he was beginning to become dehydrated and the bedsheets damp. Every single person he had ever seen being murdered on the monitors while he watched coldly while being hidden in safety, they all haunted him in his sleep. They taunted him on how he was a coward for simply watching them and doing nothing about it. But the one who haunted him most of all was that kid. In one particular nightmare, the fox boy was throatfucking Will while banging a hatchet into his skull, yet it somehow didn't ever kill the coyote. The blade just kept mashing and slicing without ever delivering a deathblow, and Will was unable to breath due to the meat cutting off his air.

With a loud, agonizing scream, Will rose up from bed with wide eyes. He hadn't even bothered taking a shower before, or even so much as undressing. It simply didn't matter much now to him. Just as he was about to lay back and try to go to bed again, the alarm clock nearby ringed with the most annoying high-pitched God damn sound everyone hates waking up to. Maybe sometime he should buy one of those other clocks that would play a nice soothing song instead.

Oh well, time for work.

William sat down at his desk behind the security monitors again, checking all the devices. Electrocution chairs all had functioning power, none of the torture weapons were missing and were all in their correct locations, etc. Now all there was to do was make sure every person was tortured in the specified ways listed on the profiles of all of the captives for today's errands and report to his superior if any mishaps happened, or to report any co-worker who didn't follow directions.

One comforting thing about the morning that always somehow struck the coyote as somehow out of place was how a nice female voice always spoke on the intercoms every morning to go over any important news events, the weather, the food being served in the worker rest lobby people went to for breaks. How could someone act so calm, nice and loving when you work at a place like this? It was almost antagonizing; no one deserved to be treated nicely for having to do a job like this. William wouldn't even be doing it, but it was forced by the government. No one can know of these jobs, that'd just be silly. You can't advertise this kind of thing to the innocent public, so they simply randomly selected members of society who were complete failures - no family, bad school grades, no spouse - and made them work here. You can't quit, not after the shit you see here, no. They can't trust you to not talk. You're forced to work here and if you don't, you will be killed and William will be the one to watch you die, cowardly behind those protective monitors.

"Hello, everyone!" the beautiful and smooth voice said on the ringtone in almost an oddly cheerful tone. "Welcome to Hell! Today in the break room, we'll be serving the guts of the innocent that you, good sir William, will be watching murdered today! Oh, it's so much fun!"

"What the f-" William spat out the hot coffee all over himself that he had been sipping on. Before he could finish his sentence or try to figure out what the hell is going on, he saw something more gruesome on the monitors than he had ever witnessed before. A male cheetah was dead, sitting in a chair with his stomach totally cut open and his guts were being pulled out by some female dog, slapping the bloody entrails onto a plate before she began eating them. When all of it was finished, it apparently wasn't enough, because she started to eat the crotch right off of the poor dead guy.

It was too much to watch. Will could feel his stomach push back the grilled cheese sandwich he had eaten before for breakfast and ended up vomiting it inside of the grey metal trash can next to his desk. What the fuck is going on here?!

When William finally calmed down and wiped his mouth with a tissue and threw it into the puke can, he saw that all of the monitors were now instead blank. The power hadn't even been turned on. 'Now, this is just getting fucking weird. I'm going crazy,' he thought to himself and turned everything back on, did all of his daily check-up routines and started sipping on his disgusting ass-flavored coffee again. The question of 'why does anyone ever drink this shit' briefly crossed mind, but there were indeed more important things to attend to today.

For one, there was no way the coyote could keep doing this for his whole life. It was too much guilt. This world was shit and he was the only one who knew it, or at least the only one who knew it and wanted to change things. But what can one man do?

For a long while, while watching various furries getting murdered or tortured into agreeing to never admit to or commit any more crimes, Will rubbed his chin in deep thought. Well, he was with security and his job was monitoring all of the torture rooms and the computers had access to profiles. Maybe there was some old archived information that could be useful.

He opened up some of the older profiles and browsed through, looking for something. For what exactly remained a mystery, not even he knew, he just kind of thought it'd come. Then, he remembered how the had said he was the son of Gregory and Mally Utoph. That didn't help much, there weren't any profiles on them. All of these profiles were only of the victims of this God forsaken shithole, anyways, not of any co-workers or bosses, so there wasn't any way he could look up where those two lived. The body of the kid was also burned, so it was far too late to check for clues in his clothes, like a wallet. Will cursed at himself mentally, he should have done that when he had the chance, but he was too shocked and sick with himself at the time.

Will considered the option of trying to hack into other systems in the Utoph security building to see other profiles, but knew it was dangerous. All the systems were connected to each other, but firewalled in between to prevent workers crossing over into parts that wasn't their job. The connection of all of the systems into one was so that another few random furries could monitor the systems, make sure everyone does their job on time and doesn't do anything just like what William wanted to do. The only computers that would probably have the information of important profiles would probably be a computer used by a high-tier manager, and unfortunately Will had no idea where that would be. Despite working here, the company was pretty secretive even to its own employees. But, it might be possible to get a map from a computer, hopefully with at least some vague worded labels on the rooms and not a simple blueprint - in which that case, it'd be entirely useless.

Hm, first step, first step. Doing it from here would undoubtedly get him in massive trouble if one of the other workers saw him on their observation machines. He was lucky to even know about those people to begin with, he just chatted with them a little in the break room about their jobs. Somehow, the fact that happened seemed sloppy, you'd think a secretive company would probably not allow socializing, but Will assumed it was probably some kind of ploy to trick the more stupid people into thinking their job was normal. Helps prevent them from becoming to stressed, or something.

Waiting in the lobby would also risk him losing his job for slacking off and it was no guarantee anyone useful would come along, too, so what was Will's plan?

"Oh well, I guess I'm fucked," he laughed to himself and shrugged. He'd just have to break into the files and risk getting caught. It was the only plausible option. There were others who had to watch different torture rooms (there were obviously too many for just William to watch them all), so there was a chance he could try to make it appear that someone else in a different room was accessing the files. Maybe if he could take control of a different computer with some kind of spyware, he could then make it look like that computer was fucking around and not his.

Despite being cut off from everyone else in the company network, they were still allowed to browse anything they wanted, even porn. Really, no kidding, it was written in the terms of agreement and right on the little list of rules taped up on the wall next to the computer, as if it was a stupid little guideline written in all colorful pretty colors for children in elementary school, that they were indeed allowed to look at porn because "we believe that this can improve morale with our workers if they feel that we, Utoph HQ Security, are laid back and fun". Hmph. Will sickeningly thought it was quite likely that a few who worked in the torture room monitoring positions probably thought of what they saw as porn.

There certainly was no useful information to be found from random browsing online, but Will did acquire some useful programs he could infect other computers with, which he downloaded from a random computer forum he frequented. Now, all there was to do was infect another machine. He copies the files onto a blank CD, put it in a case and stuck it in his pocket, then looked around the dark grey room. It was only lit by the computer monitors and no other light source, there were some metal file cabinets laying around, empty styrofoam coffee cups that needed to be disposed of, a half-eaten bag of Cheetos and two doors. One on the left side of the computer, which was a bathroom and the other behind where he normally sat. It was a little uncomfortable, since there was a window on that hallway door and anyone could peer in and see exactly what was on the computer monitors. Fortunately, no one had done so, at least not without Will knowing.

Will exited into the hall and looked through the windows into the other torture monitor rooms. He only needed to find one guy who went to their bathroom and quickly get on their machine, install the program and go back to his room. The first few rooms were no good, everyone was working. The fourth room almost caused William to puke as his earlier theory was proven correct. A horse was masturbating his huge cock to the monitors, cumming all over the video feed of another female horse being stabbed to death by a mouse executioner. The fifth room was a score! The light underneath the door crack was on and no one was at the computer. Will quickly opened the door and ran inside as quietly as he could. He had no idea if the employee was pissing or shitting, so the amount of time available was a guess. Will opened up the disc tray, put the CD in and quickly installed the program. He took the disc out and ran back to his room. It was almost exciting, Will's tail was wagging!

The program was designed to access files without the person on the other end of the line noticing. The little control menu he had for the program allowed him to hide the files so that the other person could not notice, or have them show. What use was this? So that when someone notices a break-in and tracks it, they'll see the files accessed on the machine and think it's him without question.

It took about an hour, but after getting through the firewall, he had to act fast. The connection would probably be killed pretty quickly, but Will was lucky enough to get a map and download the image before that happened. The connection was indeed cut out right after that and he heard some yelling in the hall, figuring it was his scapegoat being dragged away. He giggled. The control panel he had even allowed him to print off the map in the other room for additional realism. Will was safe and sound. Any real investigator would be able to track the prints and find out the truth, but no one would bother. There were too many people, too much work to do. It would be faster just to kill that poor guy and hire a new employee to take his place.

Will grinned and held out his copy of the map print. It even had pretty descriptive labels. Where every floor was, the proper names for the job positions for those floors (positions were all separated by the floor a person is put on), but it had no labels for any manager rooms, but it did look like there was an unlabeled top floor. It was small and the elevator also didn't go up that far, instead it only went as high to the armory and there was no staircase to sneak past them. He would HAVE to take the elevator up to there, then the stair case to the top floor. It was probably where the managers were and there would probably be armed guards. Shit, what could he do?

A small chime came from Will's computer, indicating it was break time for the next half hour. Giving up hope, Will sighed and walked off to the break lobby, getting in the elevator and going to the third floor. Maybe it was hopeless, maybe he should give up. It was a crazy idea, anyways. Who could change the world, some aging miserable coyote who hated himself more than anyone else?

He walked into the green resting room and sat down on the big comfortable green couch. God damn it, even the glasses of wine and soda in the center of the room were green. There was one other person here, a strong-looking lion who looked like he probably had drank most of the wine glasses. Figuring it could pass some time in an amusing manner, Will sat walked closer and took a seat next to him.

"Hello there, bug guy," the coyote greeted with a fake smile.

The lion turned his head and smiled big and dumb, "Heeeey, man!" He leaned in closer and wrapped an arm around Will, hugging him right up against his own chest. "What's up?"

Will coughed from the thick smell of alcohol on the feline's breath. "Nothing. Just enjoying a little drink, you know. Looking for a good time and all that in this shit hole of a job I have." With that, he grabbed one of the green glasses and chugged down the wine.

"Hehe, good time, hmm?" the lion asked, grinning mischieviously. Seeing the other male shift uncomfortably, the kitten quickly spoke up. "You've probably never been around here much, we're pretty uptight about a few things and other things we're totally easy-going to the point that some might say we're sloppy and lazy. Well, me being the leading manager here, I could pull some strings. There's some cool stuff on the top floors."

At that mention, Will's eyes grew big momentarily before he smiled and nodded, "Hmm, sure. I think I'd like to see around." Perfect, the leading manager? How odd he'd be in the break room and not drinking some kind of private stash in his own office. He probably did this occasionally to fuck the employees and thought that waving his powerful position around could sway opinions of those who didn't initially agree.

They rode the elevator and past the mean-ass looking security bloodhounds, dressed in fatigued, smoking cigarettes and holding assault rifles. One stood behind what could only be described as a sales counter, looking through a porn magazine. All kinds of guns stood on racks behind him, even labeled with price tags.

The top floor was a simple hallway that looked like the inside of an apartment building. Several doors, all with numbers on them. The lion pulled out a keycard and ran it through the scanner of door number seven, then punched in a very long confusing combination of keys that was done too quickly for Will to have memorized it. Once they entered, the coyote was a little surprised with how it was.

He was expecting something like a standard office of some sort, but it was more like a teenager's bedroom. Several nude posters of various genders and species, a computer that had pretty blue glowy lights, a big HDTV hooked up with some video game consoles, a bookshelf with books on all kinds of subjects about different kinds of science, some lava lamps, a static ball, black lights and a very big bed in the corner, with black sheets. The only thing that seemed standard for an office was the name plaque on the desk, "Null".

Null shut the door and turned around to face his guest with a look so hungry that it made Will feel like he should instead be referred to as 'the victim'.

"I know what you've been up to," Null coyly spoke, unbuttoning his shirt and tossing it aside on the floor.

That made William feel a little nervous. He swallowed, "What I've been up to?"

"I'm not stupid!" the lion yelled, almost angrily. "I'm the fucking boss of the place, man. I waited in the lobby for you, because I didn't want to confront you personally in your own office. This way seemed more natural and I knew you'd willingly come."

Will now stared right at his superior without fear, forcing courage into his eyes. He almost looked murderous. "Alright, so what do you want?"

By now, the kitty was completely naked and leaning against his desk with one hand. "I think that's rather obvious. I want to fuck you and in return, I'll... say, not kill or fire you."

Pain surged through William's body more than the soda of the same name ever could. Null had slammed his fist into the coyote's gut. Will fell down on his knees, coughing harshly and holding his stomach. He screamed as a hand grabbed the back of his head, forced it to lean back and a musky crotch smothered into his face. The kitty laughed as he forced his throbbing cock painfully down Will's throat, the thrusting process tearing his lips and throat up and making him gag on not just cock, but blood as well.

Will bit down harder than anything he'd ever had inside of his mouth before, including the time he bit into a jawbreaker when he was a kid just to prove he was cool. Null yelled loudly and shoved William off of him before thrashing around the room randomly, throwing shit around until he pulled open a drawer in his desk and picked up a silenced handgun from it.

"You fucker!" the lion yelled, firing the gun once and barely missing, since Will ducked and rushed forward.

"It was really dumb to put your dick in my mouth to begin with," Will explained with an insane level of calmness as the two struggled on the floor. It could've been pretty hot if they weren't trying to kill each other, two furry bodies rubbing all over each other. All that blood ruining their clothes, too.

William got Null's legs pinned down, resting on top. The lion still had the gun in his hands, which were being forced to aim closer and closer to his own head as the grey canine used every ounce of his strength to overpower his enemy.

Blood splattered all over William's face as he watched a hole form through the top of Null's skull, blood coming out from both his neck entry wound and the scalp exit. For reasons unknown to himself, he began to chuckle, then laugh moderately and then uncontrollably. He began to lick at the blood everywhere, as if it were delicious. It was time to celebrate, at least a little bit, since now there was one less crooked, twisted bastard out there to destroy the world one soul at a time. One less mother fucker who would make someone's life a living hell just because they thought it was entertaining enough to pass a few hours.

After a fine meal of red nectar, William stood back up and went over to the computer, which was already turned on with several windows open up of security cameras. In one video feed, two male co-workers, a weasel and horse, were fucking each other's brains out. Will found it slightly curious that the horse was the one being the bitch before getting back to business and tried to find the necessary saved information on the machine that he needed.

It didn't give direct contact with Mr. And Mrs. Utoph, but it did give the location of a fox by the name of Gutler Avins, who was listed as a family contact in the computer's database. Maybe he was a cousin, or something. The address of Gutler was printed off and folded nearly into the coyote's pocket.

Now all there is to do is escape! But how? He reeked of blood, so even if he did wipe it off, the security dogs outside would definitely smell it. Canines had the best sense of smell, after all. All Will had for now was some crappy pistol and would not be able to go against assault rifles. What to do, what to do...

After searching the room, Will almost gave up, although he did find another clip of bullets, a Swiss Army knife and a lighter.

Light shined out from the corners behind the room's tall bookshelf. Will quickly pushed the shelf forward, knocking it hard on Null's corpse with a sick squashing sound. A, a window! How convenient. It was interesting architecture. The window blonds didn't open from the inside, instead, Will had to open up the glass window and then push a door-like square block that was made to disguise as if it's just a part of the wall from outside. It hadn't been entirely closed, so light has shone through.

It was now Will remembered the extendable ladder underneath the lion's desk. He must've used this little trick to sneak out of work.

"Thanks, buddy!" The coyote patted the carcass' head and then made his escape to the city.

Gutler slammed his shotglass down on the hard wooden table in front of him. A strong burn covered his whole throat as the vodka went down into his stomach, where it went to rest, like a warm kitten curling up to sleep. He rose up, left a tip under the glass and walked out of the bar.

It was now night, and raining. As perfect and wonderful as this little world was, they still couldn't control the weather. How much longer would something like that take?, the fox thought to himself, hugging himself inside of his raincoat and pulling the hood over himself.

As he walked down the wet cement sidewalk, his eyes suddenly laid on a tall figure, maybe six feet, standing at the beginning of a long, dark alley. Although the person was wearing a large trench coat and a hat, both of which were black, topped with big black boots that probably were the reason the person appeared so tall, he could tell this assumed-to-be-male was most likely fairly muscular.

It's pretty intimidating to see someone like that when walking alone in the dark. The fox almost turned and ran, except that the guy started pssst'ing at him and held up a hand, waving him to come closer. If anything, this should've scared him more, but the guy held in his other hand a little bag of something. It looked white. Was this some nutcase trying to be a drug dealer?! The thought was almost a joke. There's no way! This guy would definitely be sent to death. All Gutler would have to do is confirm they really were drugs and bring him down. He always carried a tranquilizer gun with him, after all.

Gutler stepped closer to the dark figure, but kept his distance by at least a few feet. He cleared his throat.

"What are you doing?"

An amused chuckle left the lips of the stranger, enough to clairfy that it was indeed a male. He raised his head up enough for the moonlight to shine down on half of his face, showing him to be a coyote. "Oh, you know, just out doing business, like every normal Joe. Making my money, sharing the love, contributing to the economy. That kind of thing."

"Yeah, I'm sure," the fox rolled his eyes. "What'chu got?"

"Everything under the son, bitch," the coyote grinned and stuffed the probably-cocaine bag back into his pocket before opening up his trench coat, showing off all the drugs strapped to himself. There was indeed nearly everything one could think of. Some of the stuff here, Gutler didn't even know what it was. "Your satisfaction is guranteed. I'll even give you a free first try."

"My name isn't 'bitch', it's Gutler, you fucking drug dealing asshole," the fox spat out in disgust. People who did these types of things deserved nothing short of a painful death, which was exactly what would be coming for him.

"I'm glad I have the right guy then, pal. Thank you for your cooperation," William smiled and began to reach behind himself, under his trench coat.

The fox's quick reflexes responded without hesitation and he grabbed his tranquilizer gun, hiddein under his rain coat in a holster and shot the grey-furred creature right in the chest. He yelled out in pain and ripped it out of his flesh only a second after it entered him.

"You're already a goner. The force of impact itself causes the projectile syringe to inject-" Gutler began to explain with arrogance, until he was interrupted.

Will threw the empty syringe down to the ground, "Fuck you, I know what kind of shit you use. I'm well aware of your equipment, which thankfully gives me lots of advantage. I pre-emptively took a counter-agent. Unfortunately for you, there is no vaccine for lead."

A quiet, yet sharp sound that instantly registered as a suppressed gunshot filled Gutler's ears, as well as his gut. Oh, the pun.

First, he simply looked down. Bright crimson seeped out from the hole in his stomach, quickly washing down all over himself and the cement ground due to the rain. A hand went down to the hole, only barely touching it. The mere fur from his fingertip caused a strong surge of sore, torn flesh to yell out in agony. Avins fell down on his side, and he could barely tell that he was being dragged deeper into the alley where no one could see or hear anything. Especially not with all the rain making noise.

After coughing up some blood and swallowing the leftovers down so he could talk, Gutler spoke. "How'd you get so many drugs? How'd you know what to take to prevent the tranquilizer from working?"

"Oh, I have a lot of free time at my job. I read a lot of a little bit of everything. I know how to make homemade shit, which I have done so just for this very special occasion," William said, sitting down next to Gutler. He pulled him up and hugged him with one arm over the shoulder, like they were best buds. In his free hand, he held the tranquilizer gun he took from the fox. "I work for you. Well, not exactly you, but you get it, I'm sure. That's why I have knowledge on the weapons you have and your protocols of capturing criminals. HI-192 modified chemical-filled tranquilizer dart syringes, causes a temporary fake brain tumor to disable the person from moving. Effect is nearly instant. Not bad, but the standard gun for the tranqs itself is shit. Only holds one shot. Although, you seem to be using some kind of modified version that uses a clip, but it still needs to be cocked every round."

Gutler Avins turned his head to look at the crazy wolf ramble on and barred his fangs. "Shut up, just tell me what you want."

William opened his mouth to speak, but then closed it to think for a moment. After he gathered his thoughts, he raised a finger, "You know, I really did just want to sell you some drugs."

"Fuck you!"

Gutler's retort was instantly met with a strong fist that wanted a little kiss.

"Now now," William teased in baby talk. "My little mooshkins has to be a bit nicer than that to get his snack."

With that, Will pulled out a very large syringe filled with an omnious substance and stabbed his fox captive with it. The male screamed and struggled, but Will quickly pinned him down on the ground.

"Don't struggle so much unless you want to die. I seriously might accidently fill you up with this," he warned.

The weaker, more feminine male kept struggling, but not as much after the warning. "What the fuck is in that thing?!"

"Pure heroin, lots of it. I read a little document on you. Where you live, the places you like to hang out at, your weight and height. I calculated your height and weight and threw in a bunch of extra just to make sure that this is a big enough overdose to kill you in a couple minutes, possibly faster," Will explained with an emotion that could almost be called 'excitement'. Did he look forward to murdering this person?...

"Tell me what you want, for real," the fox demanded. "A drug dealer doesn't go around snooping for classified profiles on people."

Will nodded, "You're right, I supposed dealers don't do that. I want you to tell me where to find Gregory and Mally Utoph."

Instantly, Gutler began to laugh uncontrollably. Even after William got fed up with it and delivered a few punches to the fox's face, he still kept laughing.

"SHUT UP, SHUT UP! Oh, you're too much," Mr. Avins choked out. "What the fuck do you want with them, and why do you think I know where they are?"

"You know where they are and I know it. I'll eat you alive if I have to in order to make you to tell me," William yelled, barring his fangs just like they were at him before. His teeth looked pink, and somehow Gutler didn't think it was from eating undercooked cheeseburgers. "And what I want with them is a bit of my own business."

The fox kept a smug grin on his face as he retorted, "Go ahead, asshole."

With no hesitation whatsoever, William gagged the fox with a rag and then bit down on the vulpine's ear. Hard. It wasn't just a bite, it was repeated chews! Gutler screamed out and tried to push the stronger male off, but it was hopeless. The coyote completely ripped his ear off and swallowed it down with glee plastered all over his face. The blood completely covered his face and neck for a few moments before being washed away by the rain.

"AAAAAAGH, oh my fucking GOD, you're completely fucking crazy!" Gutler screamed out and struggled more than ever now. Just as William warned, the syringled pressed up againts Will's and the fox injected himself partially. Feeling the substance enter, he immediately stopped moving before he managed to accidentally force the rest of the heroin into himself.

"Oh, poor you. You'll probably start feeling really stoned soon, but that's okay. You might like it," William toyed.

Gutler foamed from his mouth a bit, so his words were gurgled, "Fffughk yhou."

"At least it dulls the pain. Now that you know I'm serious, mind telling me where I can find the Utoph fuckers?"

The words were too garbled to hear at first.

"Speak up, cunt," William demanded.

Gutler leaned up slightly and whispered it into the coyote's ear, "Holy Star Homes, 183 Pineapple Street. 05717."

William cocked an eyebrow at the immensely straightforward answer. "How do I know you're not lying?"

"There's no way to prove to you that I'm not, but honestly, I just want to die knowing that you're going to go over there and get yourself killed. That way, I can die here happy," Gutler replied with a smile. His life was fading from all the blood loss and the drugs in his system also beginning to fuck with him. He did genuinely look content and what he said made sense. There was no reason to think he was lying.

"Very well, thank you." With that, the rest of the drug was injected into the dying fox. It wasn't necessary, he was surely going to die anyway. He didn't do it to kill the guy. William had lost his mind, but not his soul. He did it so that Gutler would die with a little less pain. Gutler was affiliated with these people, but all he did was serve as the middle man, the bridge to cross. He was not directly at fault and did not deserve the hellfirey punishment that William planned to bring to the people truly responsible.

The smell of frying pancakes filled Marry's nostrils as she inhaled the wonderful smell of her own cooking. Exhale. The golden fluffy flat bread-thing was lifted with the cooking spatula and thrown on a plate. Butter, syrup. She took the plate and sat it down in front of her husband, Gregory, who smiled up at her and sat the newspaper he was reading down. Service with a smile.

"Thanks for breakfast, honey. I love you," the middle-aged adult fox sincerely spoke. He lifted the fork and began to cut into the food.

"You're welcome, dear." Marry grabbed her own pancake and sat down at the table with her life-long lover. "What's in the paper today?"

Swallow, clear throat. "No crime, no pollution, no accidents. Same as always."

She sighed, almost bored. "Yeah, like always..." A little grin went over her lips, "We did have fun before, though, right?'

He grinned back. "Oh, of course. Even getting it video taped was pretty hot. Fucking you as you watched the tape, it's like one of my greatest fantasies coming true."

Suddenly, they both wiped the table clean of plates, carelessly letting them smash and shatter on the kitchen tiles. Marry laid on the table on her back with her legs spread and Greg was unzipping his fly with one hand and turning on a TV with the remote with a video recording playing. A video of their own son's rape and murder.

Before Greg could really get down to business, he was inconveniently interrupted by an unwanted guest riding a motorcycle through the kitchen window. Glass shattered everywhere, cutting Gregory and Marry up slightly as they both screamed and ran to a corner of the kitchen in fear, hugging each other desperately. Their screams could barely be heard over the loud motorcycle's engine.

William quickly turned around inside of the house, running the vehicle straight towards the couple. Before either of them could become roadkill, or rather housekill, Greg leaped out of the way with his wife in arms, saving them both. On the other hand, Will crashed into the wall, flew off of the wheels and slammed face-first into the eagerly awaiting architecture. The coyote stood up slowly, grunting in pain and spitting out blood.

Talking was absolutely pointless and everyone knew it. You don't ask, "Hello, how are you doing?" when someone crashed through your window on a motorcycle and tries to kill you. Like any rational person, Gregory ran with his wife to the living room and grabbed the rifle hanging above the fireplace.

Meanwhile, still in a daze, Will stumbled around in the kitchen. What was that stupid sound? It sounded familiar. His senses slowly picked up on it and focused. His eyes rested on the TV.

No.

NO.

As quickly as he could, as if everything in the world depending on it, William grabbed the shotgun strapped to the crashed motorcycle, pumped it and shot the TV/VCR. Then he shot it again, screaming like an angry madman.

He would have kept shooting, if not for Gregory firing his own gun. The bullet smashed right into William's right arm, penetrating deep enough to crack his bone. Will instantly fell down to the ground in agony, screaming in complete confusion and pain.

The male fox began to unload the single-barrel of the rifle, pulling the empty shell out and pulled a live bullet from his pocket to load. Why didn't the Utoph family have state-of-the-art weaponry at their disposal, why didn't they have a bunch of body guards? Frankly, they're not soldiers, they're not in the military. They're self-brainwashed carefree dictators! They also wanted to feel like normal people, so they didn't surround themselves with hired guards who were total strangers and they didn't keep a bunch of weapons around. Everyone was supposed to be kept under control, so it wasn't necessary to have a lot of protection. Lastly, Greg had a fondness for his gun. Even though it was inferior to modern types of weapons, he just kind of found it neat.

Without really looking anywhere or thinking, Will picked up his shotgun with one hand and fired blindly. The pellets spread out and a couple hit Greg in the arm, causing him to drop his weapon and yelp.

At the same time, Will dropped his gun and screamed in even more pain. His left hand had been completely shattered. You may see people firing big heavy guns with one hand in movies, but in reality, you'll usually end up breaking your wrist doing this. William now knows this the hard way, with his left hand useless and his right arm with a bullet right inside the bone.

Marry screamed, "Oh my God! Greggy!" She ran towards him and grabbed his arm, looking at it. Greg yanked his arm away and pointed to his gun, telling her to grab it. She knew what to do and lifted it up, loading it again with the bullet that had been dropped previously and fired it.

It had been aimed for Will's head, but the accuracy was not 100%. Instead the bullet shot through his neck. It went clean through and embedded itself into the wall behind him, with lots of blood spraying out. There was then a moment of silence, no one moved or said anything. Will stood there in shock and pain. He waited for it to come, for him to lose control of his body, to fall without choice and die here, now. Die a failure. The video footage he saw only shortly before replayed again in his mind. His mind went back in time to when he raped and murdered that innocent fox kid.

The kid stared up at William as he thrust into the boy's maw, with cold, dead eyes. Why did he look so dead now?

All of a sudden, William was strapped in the chair and Drew was above him, thrusting his knotted cock deep into Will's throat, sealing off his oxygen just as had been done to him.

Death had not come, not yet. Instead, adrenaline pumped inside of Will's veins, dulling the pain and giving his body strength. It would not last for long, but it was all he needed.

Will stopped stumbling and instead stared dead ahead at the couple in front of him. They had been looking with a hopeful patience, waiting for him to die. The coyote growled a blood-gurgling feral growl, his eyes filled with complete insanity and hate. Seeing that he was not down for the count, Greg grabbed the gun from his wife and began to load another shell. William, ignoring the pain, picked up the dropped pump-action shotgun and held it against his shoulder, firing it and hitting Greg completely in the chest, knocking him down.

Marry screamed and dropped to her husband's side, holding his hand. He wasn't dead, but was quickly on his way and probably only had mere seconds left.

Even with his body pumped full of natural drugs, a shattered hand was a shattered hand and he could not pump his shotgun normally. Instead, he sat the butt of the gun on the ground and stepped down on it with his foot, cocking the gun alternatively. He raised the gun yet again and stepped close enough to rub the barrel against Marry's cheeks.

She turned her head around slowly with tear-filled eyes. They both looked at one another silently for a few moments.

"You raped your son, you were even watching his death for your own entertainment. You have no idea what kind of torment I went through because of that. You know nothing, you care for nothing other than achieving your next orgasm. You deserve nothing but death, and I'm going to give it to you," William growled out between gritted teeth.

Marry swallowed hard, "You may think you're really righteous, that you're setting things right. Maybe you just want revenge. It doesn't matter to me. Everything you've gone through to get here and kill me and my husband has corrupted you along the way. However bad you think I am, you can't be any better."

William thought about all that for awhile. His emotions jumped around, wavered, left and came back. "I don't know anymore if I'm the villain or the hero. To be honest, I stopped caring."

Due to the proximity of the shotgun, the blast caused Marry's entire head to practically explode. Her brains, blood and bone splattered everywhere, including completely covering William in red.

Her lifeless corpse fell down in a position that looked like Greg and his wife were hugging each other. It was all over.

No. No, it's not over yet. There's still one last thing to do.

William sat the butt of the shotgun back down on the floor and pumped it with his foot once more. He sat down in a kitchen chair and snuggled the barrel inside of his mouth.

Now it's over.

300 years later...

Bradley sighed in utter boredom in class, staring at his teacher babbling about shit the smoke-grey coyote didn't care about. He had always hated history, because he didn't really see any use for it. History class won't buy health insurance or pay the bills.

"Bradley!" the ironically-thin and fit panda teacher at the front of the room , who was wearing short-shorts because he damn well felt like it and everyone lived in a very liberal society, pointed and yelled. "You're really beginning to get on my nerves. Why can't you pay attention?"

"Sorry, dude. I was just trying to imagine you with more clothes on, so it was taking up most of my attention,' Bradley cockily joked. The classroom erupted in laughter.

"Silence!" the sexy panda screamed. Everyone obeyed. "Brad, detention here after school. Ben," he pointed. "You look to Bradley in the eyes and tell him why William Ruther is important so that he doesn't flunk yet another test, which if he does will cause him to fail my class for the year, I might add."

The thin, fairly feminine male purple wolf looked to Bradley's hazel eyes. "William Ruther was basically the dude who caused the chain reaction in the faux-utopian oppressive government we had three hundred years ago. He killed Gregory and Marry Utoph, killed himself and there were many riots afterwards. A revolution happened, the government changed into a republic and here we are now."

Bradley rolled his eyes and sighed. Thankfully, the school bell rang right there and everyone ran out of the classroom, practically tripping over each other.

Mr. Dox shook his head after all of the children had left. "What is it with kids these days saying the word 'dude' so much..." he muttered to himself, then went back to grading papers.