FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

"What on earth are you doing here?" Dustin asked himself.

Because your friends talked you into it and you're too much of a doormat to say 'no'. He answered himself back.

He hated it when he was right. Now he had a knot in his stomach.

He was sat in an, admittedly nice, waiting room. A glass coffee table situated before a row of comfy chairs was covered in magazines, impressively all of which were in date. Dustin knew, because he's leafed through every one.

The candidate to his left was called in. A tall, muscular zebra. Dustin watched as the striped equine made his way across the waiting room towards a pretty little cat holding a clipboard, and the two of them disappeared through a door of the far side of the room.

"What on earth am I _doing_here?" he repeated to himself.

He was single. Painfully so, every date he'd been on had ended is near disaster. Online dating, dates organised through hobby meets, blind dates set up be well meaning girlfriends of his friends... Everything. Finally, his friends gave it a go - only they took a more drastic route. Before he knew it, he'd been handed an entrance ticket to an audition to some dating show on TV. He barely caught the name of the show before he was pushed through the door and his ticket reduced to a stub... Something Dating..? Dating Something..?

What was causing him nerves wasn't only the prospect of having to auctioning himself off to a dating TV show - but the fact that there was a twinkle in the eye of his friends as they pushed him through the door. A twinkle Dustin had seen before and had only led to mischief. Also was the fact that he was by far the tiniest guy in the room. Dustin hadn't felt this out of place since that one time he was convinced, once again by his friends, to go along to a powerlifting meetup. That day had finished with half the group powerlifting him. The knot in his stomach tightened as he remembered the experience.

"Mr. Bookson? You can come through now!" Came the call.

Here we go. Brace yourself, Dustin. What is about to happen will be providing your friendly social anxiety attacks for the next month at least.

"Oh, hush up!" he chided himself "They'll just go through the motions and pick one of the more impressive guys. Let's just get this over with."

"Are you okay sir?" The cat asked.

_... 'Cat'... She's barely done being a kitten! She can't be more than 17, surely! _

_ _

Dustin shook his head. "Yes. I'm fine. Stage jitters."

The Kitte... Cat smiled. "You'll be fine once we get going. It's amazing how soon people will loosen up given this show's particular format!"

Dustin smiled alongside her. Pretty sure he just missed a pretty important inference as to what he was about to get into. The knot in his stomach tightened further. It still had give to do that, apparently.

The room on the other side was brightly lit and filled with people. Cameras, and lights were everywhere. Some on complex-looking trollys being pushed around, others on impressive-looking cranes. There was an elevated booth on a scaffold looking down on everyone and in that sat two figures. Dustin could only just make out their silhouettes. One defiantly had a horse-like face, the other... Canid? Possibly? No-one else with antlers in there at least, so there wasn't anyone to show up how dainty his own pair were.

Dustin was led over to a huge green standing tarpaulin. In front of that was set out some broken trees, some vines, a floor covered in dead leaves and mud... Dustin knew what a green-screen was, and pretty soon he realised that he was to be interviewed on set as though he was in a forest or similar. Well, he'd had weirder interviews...

No you haven't.

No he hadn't.

Dustin was manoeuvred into the scene and a few people nipped over and began to fawn over him. One held a strange looking piece of equipment in-between him and the light, another adjusted the plants, trees and vines around him a third seemed to be leaning back and making notes on a clipboard, it looked like he was guesstimating body measurements. No make-up thankfully - so far. Dustin took a deep breath and waited for the shadows in the booth to address him.

In the booth Mel and Clara beheld the scrawny deer that had been brought before them. Mel made a face.

Clara was more forgiving. "Oh, leave off. We could do with some variation."

"No-one is going to watch this show to actually watch people have dates and hook up. There's a very specific set of attributes we're looking for here..."

"It won't hurt to get some variety in there. We can always appeal to a larger audience. Do you know what a twink is, for example?"

"Those little cakes?"

"Nope - just trust me, this show has more than one target audience, and there's a chance this guy will tickle the fancy of some of them."

"You could fill a bath to the brim - drop that little fawn in it and you wouldn't spill a drop."

"That's exactly my point! Some people like that."

"Well, he looks like he's ready - why don't you start?"

"Mr. Bookson?"

"Dustin."

"Okay, Dustin. What is it that made you desire to audition to our show?"

"I'll be honest - I didn't. My friends have put me up to this. They said it'd do me good."

Mel's eyes lit up at this and she grinned at Clara, who continued with the questioning.

"What do you mean by 'do you good' exactly?"

"My friends think I'm too shy." Dustin replied; They're right he added.

In the booth Mel was biting her tongue, her grin all the wider. 'Has he not figured it out? How could he not have figured it out? Well, if he hasn't this is about to be entertaining, at least!'

Clara picked up on that too and, sharing a mischievous look at Mel, continued: "Well, Dustin, I'm sure we'll do all we can to help you with that - but first you will have to go through with the full audition process."

"Oh! It's not a talent show, is it? I don't have to sing or anything, do I?"

"We won't stop you." Mel spoke for the first time "but no, it's not that kind of a talent show."

"Dating Naked has a very specific format and for that we do require to see how photogenic you are and how well you'd cope in the situation we have set out for you and the other contestants."

"... I'm sorry. Dating What?"

Dating What?!?

"Naked, Mr. Bookson. That's our theme. All the contestants for our dating show meet, have their dates and get to know each other while nude. All for a TV audience! Now if you would, please, remove your clothes."

The phrase 'Deer in the headlights' was never more appropriate. And it is a lot easier to say than 'Deer in the studio lights who has just been ordered to take his clothes off."

"Mr. Bookson, we don't have all day. Everyone else we've seen today was taking their shirt off before we even got their name. Just disrobe, we'll run through the basic poses and then we can all get a stiff drink."

Should have had a stiff drink before I came.

Dustin had no choice.

That's a lie.

Dustin was too afraid to just say no and leave. So, beneath the thankfully warm studio lights, and before the group of strangers milling about the room, and in front of the kitten with the clipboard and the two women in their god-chair, he started to unbutton his shirt.

"Look at that. Nevermind 'washboard stomach', kid's a Teflon slab."

"Oh, leave off! I think he's cute. Besides; there's more to see."

Dustin no longer cared about how warm the lights were. The burning in his cheeks, no doubt red enough to be seen through the white patches on the side of his thin face, were more than enough to warm him as his hands slowly reached to his belt.

To everyone else a scrawny guy dropped his trousers. To Dustin, he had to unbuckle his belt, slide the leather strip through the steel buckle to provide access to the button above his flies. He then had to pop that button and draw the zipper down, giving all who was watching a beginning glimpse of the crisp white of his underthings. His waistband now loose, he had to slip his thumbs into the sides and slowly draw his trousers down. They caught slightly on his knees, and he had to struggle momentarily on one leg as he pulled his hooves out of them.

For a moment he stood, bare but for his plain white briefs, in a room full of strangers, with at least a dozen eyes and half that many cameras all focused on him, all watching as he repeated an earlier motion and pushed his thumbs into the waistband of his underthings... And from there, he began to draw them down his legs.

"Awwe. Poor lil' fella." Mel said at the final reveal of Dustin.

"Oh, hush and leave him alone. He could be a grower not a shower. Really you're being a right little bitch to this poor guy! Look at him, he's terrified!" Clara said, through a jokey smile.

"Well, if he's terrified, we'll probably never see if he is a grower, will we?"

Dustin stood. One arm wrapped around his chest, the other nervously pinching his chin. He desperately wanted to cover his shame, but he knew what would happen, and couldn't bear to hear anyone tell him to move his hands so everyone could get a good look at his genitals.

He glanced around the room at the people staring at him. At his exposed, dangling pink cock currently sat ontop of his velvet-covered white sack. There were smirks, there was disinterest, and there was... on the face of the kitten... CAT! The girl with the clipboard. There was a look of.. She's smiling.. and she's nibbling on the end of her pencil. That look in her eyes as she's staring at...

"Oh. There we go!"

"Well, at least you can see it now."

"Oh will you -" Clara playfully slapped Mel on the shoulder "- leave the poor boy alone!"

"Is that why we should let him on? So motherly-sisterly types like you will want to wrap him up in a blankie and keep him safe?"

Clara looked down at the little dear... Deer. He was going through the poses for the camera. Right now he had to reach up and fold his arms behind his head while standing with his hooves shoulder-width apart. His little dick was pointing skyward as best it could and had gone from the pale pink it started as to almost as red as the skin under his cheek-fur. "It's one argument. Depends on how convinced you are by it."

"And what of that other word you called him." Mel looked down. Dustin was now on all fours, his tiny bony bottom facing the camera, little puff of a white tail pointing up and his little sack, barely visible, dangling down; his little hardon pressed tight to his tummy and out of sight. "Twerp?"

"Twink!" Clara laughed. "And yes, he'll definitely fill that role."

"Well, we'll think about it - we'll see how those pictures come out and run them past our testers. You want him in, don't you?"

Clara smiled "I'll admit, I dunno if I want him in the show. But you're right, I'm fighting an urge to pack his sandwiches for him."

Down on the studio floor, Dustin's final pose had him holding a bunch of flowers as though he was meeting his naked date. His willy was only half-hard now, and he was utterly resigned to his situation.

"That's it, Mr. Bookson. Thankyou." The photographer said cheerfully.

Dustin fiddled with his fingers as he waited for the cat to bring his clothes back. Her saunter over was agonisingly slow.

"Here you are Mr. Bookson. Pull your things back on and we'll be in touch." The cat stood and watched as Dustin swiftly pulled his briefs back up and finally put his little dick back where it felt comfortable, never before had such a small garment felt so reassuring.

AdDusting himself into his plain white briefs, he glanced up at the young cat, catching her biting her as. As they locked eyes, she broke out into a big smile, turned and walked away.

Well, that was one of the worst days in our lives.

Dustin walked out of the studio and waved at a cab. He sat silently in the back, unable to stop re-living the experience, unable to stop seeing the smirks and glances of everyone glaring at his bare body.

The cab pulled up outside his apartment building, and Dustin reached into his tightly-belted jeans pocket for a few notes. He frowned.

Pulling his hand out, tucked into his pocket was a card. With a phone number. An image of a slyly grinning

Kitten

cat spring up in his mind. He smiled. Maybe this wasn't the worst day in his life after all.

Back at the studio, Mel, the tall canid woman, lifted a glass of wine. Her phone bleeped, displaying a message from her secretary showing a thumbs up.

Good kitten. I might just let her have a treat tonight.

She sipped her wine. Wondering what sort of mischief she could get up to with two little subs under her thumb...