FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

Cody was on the bed, playing his 3DS, sorting his Pokémon in their boxes - there were all kinds of rumors on 4chan, which he would browse when Andy did not need his phone, that there would be some kind of system to transfer your old Pokémon to the new games coming out, and he wanted to be organized when it happened.

He had to do something to occupy himself - Bligh was hot, man was he hot, he made Cody blush just thinking about him, but what a dick, why couldn't he hang out with he and Andy too? Andy must have told him at some point how he was usually pretty quiet and wouldn't intrude - he knew that enough about himself, anyhow. He liked to listen, he preferred listening to talking most of the time. He wouldn't be a burden - why the Hell couldn't he come along too?

That quick moment he and Bligh had shared in the parking lot - wow, that was awkward. He hadn't felt a connection like that since Andy...he probably should keep quiet about it, it would weird Andy just right the fuck out.

Back to his game, and a whole box of his favorites - Growlithe and Arcanine, Houndour and Houndoom, Poochyena and Mightyena, and the newest ones, the Lillipup family.

To get there he had to pass his collection of Deerling and Sawsbuck, that resembled a little eerily a story that his best friend Aaron used to tell him when they were little kids about a King of Deer that lived out in the forests of eastern Hillsborough.

He frowned - he hadn't seen Aaron in so long, he wondered what had happened to him. He hoped he was alright...he always hoped the ones that had been nice to him, the rare ones, would be alright.

But now he sighed, back to his hobby, trying to forget what seemed like - what was - a whole lifetime ago. He had spent hours breeding for IVs and abilities and natures - soon he would have a perfect team of dog Pokémon.

Bligh, Andy's friend, reminded him of a Mightyena - all big and with black fur. Except Bligh had blue eyes - really blue eyes. He had seen eyes like them before but not with black hair, and not looking at him, giving him that look, like Bligh was the Big Bad Wolf and he, Little Red Riding Hood...

All the better to see you with, my dear.

He stopped what he was doing, closing the 3DS.

Sometimes, when he least expected it, he would hear his mother's voice - almost always when he was upset and when something bad was about to happen, his mother's voice would appear in his head, and suddenly he was six years old, about how old Andy was when he met Bligh, so he heard, and his mother was reading to him in their big house with the strawberry field out back.

His favorite - Little Red Riding Hood.

Little Red Riding Hood was a girl, but she was crafty and brave - his mother had been keen to tell him that. Just because you aren't a man doesn't mean you can't be a hero, and Little Red Riding Hood was a hero, she wouldn't be taken in by no wily wolf, she didn't need no huntsman like in the other versions, no, just herself, to avenge her grandmother and save the day. She went through that whole forest, that big dark forest, why, just like the one beyond the strawberry field which is probably a fucking shopping center now, all by herself...

He needed to be brave like Little Red Riding Hood - he needed to be brave a lot.

He wondered how much Andy had told Bligh about his life - about the night his dad beat the shit out of him so bad he broke his arm, or when he was thirteen, he, as closest living relative, had, in the ghostly white light of the morgue, to nod at the nice policeman that yes, the pale human-looking monster with the messy hole in his head on the slab was his dad.

He asked Andy once - was it okay to be happy that his dad was dead? And Andy, who was making them pancakes, had stared at him for a full ten seconds before nodding, yes, it was okay, because he hurt you. And then he seemed agitated as he had taken the spatula and put some pancakes on a plate:

"I would hurt anyone who would hurt you." And then a pause. "I love you."

Andy loved him a whole lot, and he loved Andy more than anything else in the world - glancing at the smiling picture of that old science dude, Carl something, he wondered if the people he used to know on Nebraska Avenue were still alive, if that world that Andy had saved him from even existed anymore.

Whenever they went to that side of town, when Andy took him to see USF's campus or when they went to Howl-O-Scream together at Busch Gardens, he would go out of his way, out of their way, to avoid driving where he used to trick, where he used to skate.

So maybe they were all dead - Red, and Annie the Crackhead, maybe they were really all dead. Red hurt him - Annie hurt him too, and if they hurt him like they did maybe it was okay to be happy if they were dead, like Andy had told him about his dad.

But there were nice people in that house on Nebraska Avenue too, though...well, just one, DeShawn, Double-D_DeShawn who taught him how to steal without getting caught and gave him his first - _best, he'd never dare tell Andy, all these years later - blowjob, when he was fifteen. He owed her so much, and he wanted to believe finally she got her lower half done, maybe met somebody nice like Cody did, maybe escaped Red and Annie and was one fine fabulous bitch laying out in the Sun on Saint Pete Beach like she always dreamed...

They used to smoke cigarettes together, the tranny that was easily twice his age when he himself was only sixteen, sometimes there would be tears in her eyes when she got wistful exhaling smoke like a fantastic African goddess-dragon into the air of the cold Autumn night.

We ever gonna escape, Little Baby?

She always called him that - he was something to be protected, always, even when Red had lost money at the casino and came home and needed something to hit and it was really, really fucking bad.

Life ever gonna get better, Little Baby?

And he'd answer: Of course it is, Big Mamma. I believe it will.

And it did. For him. But did it for her?

The guiltiest he ever felt was, in the middle of the night laying next to Andy, wrapped in his arms and safe and a world away from turning tricks and watching a helpless tranny hooker get punched by a ginger cokehead - he never really wanted to find out.

Red, for Cody, was a color that had two meanings - bloody and bad and awful like Red's hair and red's face, but then warm and hot and passionate and brave, like ripe strawberries, like Red Riding Hood...

Now he heard the door open - out of his bad memories he was, thankfully, drawn.

There was an awkward shuffling that he did not expect to hear - he flipped open the 3DS and saved his game, holding the power button down to turn it off, and as the screen went black, the bedroom door opened.

In walked Bligh - tall, certainly taller than Cody, the long black feathery hair, the flannel, the jeans, the Baltimore Ravens cap...and Andy, inert, eyes closed, draped over his shoulder.

Cody mind raced for an explanation. "Hey - hey, what - what happened to Andy? Hey - hey, is he okay?"

Bligh stared at him - his blue flannel was unbuttoned, the first two buttons, and all that gorgeous chest hair was falling out, a black furry carpet, and Cody wanted to stare and be aroused by how masculine he was and how so like a beast he was, a Mightyena, a Big Bad Wolf, but he couldn't, there was too much wrong, too much that needed explaining.

"He - paralyzed. I - I paralyzed em."

And Bligh laid Andy down by the bathroom door, propping him up, limp, like a ragdoll, lifeless. Cody searched him - he saw his chest rise and fall once, yes, he was breathing, Bligh was telling the truth, he wasn't dead.

But Andy's eyes were shut, and Bligh's were open - boring into him, spearing into him, leaving him defenseless, no mysteries left to solve.

All the better to see you with, my dear.

"Why - why? What the Hell is going on?"

Cody was fearful - who was this intruder, this charming stranger in his forest like the Big Bad Wolf, who meant to do him harm, real grievous harm, like how the Wolf ate Granny and dressed himself in her clothes?

Bligh didn't answer - he did, actually, he whispered three words that would change Cody's life forever, no going back, the brink, the precipice from which he would forever fall in ecstasy - but he did not answer Cody's question, not directly.

All he said was: "Look at me."

That was all the explanation Cody ever got - sometimes he would think about it, what Bligh meant when he said that. Was it something helpless, as though by just looking at him, Bligh's true form, all of Cody's questions would be answered? Or was it a command - look at me, look into my eyes, those brilliant blue eyes, eyes the color of Winter, faintly luminous, like a wolf when the campfire light is bright enough on a cold Autumn night?

All the better to see you with, my dear.

He heard his mother's voice fade as Bligh slipped off his pants.

There was a fear - a fear Cody remembered well, when the tricks were too rough, when he would be sitting on the bed which crawled with bedbugs waiting for the other man to undress, sometimes they would be big businessmen from places he had no hope of seeing like Atlanta and Detroit, or smooth-talking black men looking to abuse a pretty little white boy like him on their lunch break from Stuart Weitzman and Neiman Marcus some miles away, in suits and ties, who would threaten to kill him in the midst of fucking him if he breathed a word to anyone, they had a wife and kids, they could lose everything.

And Cody would shut his eyes and wish his mother was still alive, and try not to cry, try to remember DeShawn holding him at night when the power got cut off and they were sweltering in the Tampa heat, try to remember Little Red Riding Hood, how she was so fearless going through the big and dark and scary woods, how she beat the Big Bad Wolf and saved the day...

There was a fear - and he remembered it well.

But at once, something was wrong - very wrong.

As Bligh's jeans came off, something flew up behind him, and Cody blinked several times, trying to see if what he suspected was there actually was - that it wasn't just a shadow, or a trick of the light, no, he was right the first time:

"You...have a tail."

That was the first thing he said - but then he saw the rest.

Bligh drew nearer, fully unbuttoning his flannel, tossing it away, like Little Red Riding Hood tossed her clothes into the fire - there were six nipples, not two.

Cody froze where he sat, on the bed, watching as Bligh's legs, covered in fur, glistening, black as the night that Little Red Riding Hood had to carry her basket in, strode towards him...the big sheath his penis was in, that looked so full, completely furry like the big Saint Bernard, Marty, his parents had owned that died when he was seven, stirring, so that slowly emerging, where a human penis should have been, was a massive dog's dick instead.

What was this, what was all of this? Bligh was not human - he had been hiding not being human. But how was that even possible? What did he mean to do with him? With that erection--?

He made a motion to scoot away, but a quick shudder of pleasure caused him to wince and hiss aloud - his own dick, embarrassingly dwarfed by this raw spear of canine virility, was hard and straining against the Adidas gym shorts Andy had bought for him. His face flushed until he was sure he was turning as red as Bligh's inhuman penis that, with a dread certainty that was turning into hysteria, he found himself wanting.

Bligh drew nearer - inch after excruciating inch, breathing heavy through his nose, his face sad, but determined.

He could run, Cody thought, he could spring off the bed and dash out and run, he knew his own speed, how fast he was, Bligh would never catch him.

He could escape - but no - no, he wanted to stay.

Bligh wouldn't hurt him, and it was strange, very strange, that he assumed this, but as his hand squeezed his shoulder, Cody's head snapping to it, then back to Bligh's face, he felt at ease.

The spark, the moment from the parking lot, returned to him - he knew what it meant.

He hadn't taken Bligh for gay, but shit, he hadn't taken him for a - a werewolf? Was that what he was? He looked liked a werewolf but plenty of people do, but werewolves weren't real, were they? Was this real? And what had Bligh done with Andy? Was he going to steal him away? Why? For what? Turn him into a werewolf too? And how - how could he ever even think of cheating on Andy, something he had never, not once, ever even remotely thought of before, Andy, Andy who had saved his life--?

There were so many questions - too many questions. And all he could ask, turning away in shame, was:

"What do you want?"

But he knew the answer already:

"I want yew."

Cody didn't ask why - he was done asking why, he was done asking questions at all.

His head turned back and there it was, the wolf dick, the dog dick, jutting out at him, ordering him, inviting him, overriding his morality, destroying his marriage, because he was falling in love with it like the whore that Annie used to scream in his ear that he was.

His mind exploded with the memories of when he was four and he first saw Marty mounting the dog of a cousin of his from Spartanburg - and then, ten years later, that same frenzied memory returned in the midst of a shameful orgasm when some slick real estate agent who didn't love his wife anymore was plowing him for money.

He had wanted to be his cousin's dog. He wanted a dog to pummel him - give him puppies.

He cringed, and he out a sharp, barely stifled whimper.

Conflicted, so conflicted.

Jesus, Bligh's dick was big - bigger than Andy's, but he loved Andy, he loved Andy more than anyone in his whole life, more than his mom, more than DeShawn, no, how, how could he do this, how could he offer his body to something that was so much bigger, more fertile, more packed with sperm, wolf sperm, dog sperm, more, more, more puppies, swelling his belly, making him full and beautiful and reproductive, just like he wanted to be for Andy, but he was falling for Bligh, and Bligh could do more, much more--

He caught himself - he was drooling, he was panting - he looked up at Bligh, helpless.

He wanted to cry.

Bligh saw it, his eyes, so icy, near-luminous - all the better to see you with, my dear - turned downward in sympathy, and his hand, strong, came up and grasped Cody's chin, firmly, gently.

"Ey - ey, Pup, no..." he said. "No, dun cry..."

Cody's eyebrows rose. "Pup," he repeated, as if in a trance - no, he was in a trance, this was not normal, it was not normal to be feeling all these things at once.

He loved that word - he loved it when people nicknamed him, but _Pup _felt right in a primal way, a visceral way he could never explain.

It began there.

Pup.

And then Bligh smirked - evilly, but kindly, an understanding for Cody that Andy did not have, one that was far darker, far deeper, more eldritch, more terrible.

But in that moment - Cody trusted him.

He trusted him even when he saw the fangs, sharpened and pointed, and he panted harder. He glanced, a cold sweat bursting along his skin, to Andy's slumped-up form against the wall, his mouth hanging open.

He would say sorry later. He would beg forgiveness later. But he needed this. He knew what he was, in this moment, and he had to act on it.

He had no choice.

Everything vanished in that moment, the moment that he took Bligh's hand by the wrist and pushed it away from his chin, using the same hand to comb up through the black forest of body hair, the forest of mystery where the wolves lived, so soft already, so furry like a werewolf already, rolling on top of the stomach, perfectly hard, wiry, like a greyhound in human flesh, to Bligh's beard, slipping off his gym shorts, his puny human cock springing free...and kissed him.

Everything vanished - the only red Cody saw was not the vivid strawberries he would pick with his mom, or the hood of his favorite heroine, thrown into the fire, the fire that burnt and crackled and warmed the cold Autumn nights, that glowed in the cherries of his cigarettes and fell into ash on the pavement of Nebraska Avenue...the only red that remained was the glistening ruby sceptre of Bligh's penis, the red of the blood that pounded madly in his own temples and deafened him with each circulation, faster, harder.

Bligh's mouth opened - fangs and all. He returned the kiss, and Cody could not think of anything else, anyone else. He was Bligh's, so quickly, so magnetically, so completely. He was devoured by the teeth of this Big Bad Wolf.

All the better to eat you with - my dear.