FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

Tyron had first started using Knotr, the hookup app, a few months back. It made it easy to find someone with similar tastes and without any strings attached. Good for those times when you just needed to get off and didn't want to just jerk off. You ticked what you wanted - girls or boys, tops or bottoms, bars or glory-holes, and all manner of kinks. Within moments you could start swiping through the list of matching profiles until one took your fancy. There was no need for subtly - everyone on Knotr wanted one thing, to fuck, or get fucked.

Laying back on his bed, fur still damp from the shower, he held the phone above his head in one hand and using the rubbery tip of the stylus in the other hand to flick through head-shots and dick pics - the tool a necessity given that the modern touch screen wasn't made to recognise the gazelle's hoof-like fingertips. It was a Friday, and he was feeling randy.

It was the name that made him pause. Cole. The picture was of a black furred panther. He snorted a laugh at the irony of it. A quick swipe downwards to see another picture of the cat made him pause for thought. Kittycat was hung with a capital H ... a rarity for felines. His eyes briskly scanned through the profile: Cole was a good few years older than the antelope, but they appeared to have similar tastes - he was a top, the gazelle was a bottom. Bondage. Role-play. Not looking for a long term relationship. A rapid flurry of taps sent off a short message:Nice dick.

He favourited the profile before carrying on looking. No point waiting for someone who might not even be online, but within minutes his phone chimed with a message notification: You've seen mine. Show me yours?

Not hesitating, he pulled himself upright on the bed and sat cross legged while he found the picture button in the app. Pausing for a few moments to fluff himself, he aimed the lens of the cellphone's camera at his own crotch - centring the shot on the pink glans peeking from his slender cream sheath, bordered with tan coloured hips. A flash and a synthetic woosh later sent the picture on its way to Cole. Not as good as yours, but it fills a paw.

He had barely gotten back to Cole's profile when his phone tinkled again. A grainy picture downloaded, blue from the light of a cheap phone LCD, but clearly showing that feline phallus. Erect. The small barbs around the head of it just visible in the low resolution snap.Now your ass.

It wasn't a request. It was a demand. And that sent a shiver up Tyron's spine even as he felt himself swelling in arousal. This needed a mirror. Hopping up off the bed, he strode into the bathroom while his half-hard dick bobbed in front like the lead member of one-man gazelle sled-team. Positioning himself with his back to the floor-length mirror, he leaned forwards and held the phone over his shoulder with one hand, while the other reached back to pull apart his cheeks. For a minute, he admired his own rear, with his short tail hiked up over it. The cream of his chest and belly looped between his legs, coating his inner thighs before curling up to make a heart shape on the seat of his buns. He pressed the button on the side and a picture of his pucker was on it's way to Cole.

Another chime and another picture, before he even made it back to the bedroom. A heavy fist squeezing a dribble of precum out of that thick feline erection he'd seen in the profile, flesh all slick and shiny with lube. Got any toys?

He could almost imagine the scent of the panther through the picture, all musk and sex. As it happened, he did - a drawer full of them in his bedside cabinet, and it was beginning to overflow into a second. Mind racing with ideas, he snapped a picture of the collection and sent it off. See anything you fancy?

There was no picture this time. Just a message. Wear the red plug. 216 __6_ Fowler Ave. 1 hour._

There was no question about not going to meet up with this sexy cat. Tyron just wasn't sure how he was going to fit his hard-on into his underwear before then.

* * *

There was a skip in his step as he walked down Fowler Avenue, glancing up at the house numbers once in a while. And they were nice houses, with tall sets of steps leading up to ornate doors. It was summer, and so the sun was only just starting to go down. There was a cool breeze and it was still bright enough that the street lights had not yet come on. Toed hooves clacked on the pavement as he hurried - it had taken nearly 30 minutes to get ready and dressed in a casual t-shirt and shorts, and he was cutting it fine. Barely wincing as the toy under his tail reminded him of it's presence, he hopped up the steps to the door and paused to straighten his clothing. Checking that there wasn't a wet spot showing where his dick was straining against his shorts, he pressed the doorbell and heard the distant sound of chimes somewhere inside the building.

He stood, waiting, for nearly three minutes. Nearly enough time that he was about to turn away - thinking that Cole had chickened out - when the door was flung open, taking Tyron by surprise. The imposing feline stood silently; studying the gazelle's slender figure and slightly surprised expression. He was nearly a foot taller than the antelope, if you discounted the rack of horns, and dressed casually in sweatpants, a wife beater that clung to a sculpted chest and a gaudily decorated flowery shirt to complete the ensamble.

"Hi, you must be Cole-" started Tyron.

"Strip," interrupted Cole, looking down the length of his short muzzle at the hoofer.

Tyron glanced around. The street was not busy, but it wasn't deserted either. Someone undressing on the stoop would probably not go unnoticed, although the idea of it was sending a thrill directly into his hind-brain. "Wh-what? Here? Someone could-"

"I said, strip. Now." Cole repeated, his eyes narrowing with impatience. There was a southern twang to his voice. "I'll give you to the count of ten. 10, 9, 8."

"Okay man! Gimme a second here," said Tyron, hastily pulling his shirt off over his head, wasting a few precious seconds getting it tangled on his horns.

"7, 6, 5, 4," continued the countdown, regardless of the antelope's troubles, a smirk creeping onto the cat's face. This one was eager.

Jamming his thumbs into the waistband of his shorts, Tyron quickly whipped them down his legs, taking his boxers with them. Stepping out of the puddle of cloth, he could feel the refreshing current of air as it ruffled his fur and kissed the flesh of his newly freed erection. As he bent down to grab his clothes, he heard an indignant curse from behind him that made his flatten his ears.

"Well I never! Such.. lewdness! Disgusting!"

He span around, just in time to see an angry looking old mouse hustling down the street as fast as her walker would take her. He had just full on mooned her - probably well enough for her to see the fat stump of the red rubber plug under his tail.

The panther gave a sharp laugh, and stepped to the size to let the gazelle scuttle quickly into the musty hallway, closing the door just as swiftly behind him. "Ms Gellner can go fuck herself. Old bitch is always spying on everyone," he said, by way of explanation, before promptly batting the bundle of clothes out of Tyron's hands. "And you won't be needing those any more. Now stand up straight. I wanna check what I'm gonna be investing my precious time in."

His erection had flagged during his brief exposure to the elderly neighbourhood busy-body, but now alone in front of the commanding panther, it was resurging to it's full strength. He stood still with his arms at his side, although the urge to flee from the forced exhibitionism had flooded him with adrenaline, and he couldn't help trembling as the big cat examined him.

Big fingers started to poke and prod at him, squeezing his biceps and shoulders before moving up to tug on one of his horns. The panther stared into his eyes, then squeezed the corners of his jaws to force his mouth open; unceremoniously sticking a digit into his mouth to poke and prod at his tongue, inner cheeks and teeth. Cole's rough finger-pad tasted of bitter tobacco smoke and strong musk, like he'd just spent the three minutes he made the gazelle wait at the door scratching his nuts and then having a quick cigarette. The finger got wiped clean on his chest, then hands felt up his belly. He gave a grunt when it grabbed his dick and tugged it from one side to the other while the panther tsk'd in disapproval at the gazelle's uncontrollable hard-on, and his balls got a yank for good measure. "Spin 'round and bend over."

Doing as he was told, Tyron turned, placed his hands on his knees and lifted his frizzy tail. Clawed fingertips dug into the fat of his bum to get a good grip, spreading him lewdly for a better look. There was a hard shove on the base of the toy which got an unsolicited groan from the gazelle, and then a finger wormed it's way around the edge of the rubber - checking to see if the seal of his pucker was tight or if there was any give, making his sphincter twitch from the touch against his delicate flesh. Cole's seal of approval was a stinging slap to the ass-cheek that made him squirm and clench hard.

By the time he had stood up and turned back around, Cole was already walking out of the hallway and into a room beyond. Like he already knew that the antelope wasn't about to bolt out the door. "Put on the stuff on the side there, then come on through."

Trying to shrug off the feeling of having just been inspected like a steer at an auction, Tyron found the small hallway table and the mess of leather sitting on it. Thick, strong, leather bondage cuffs. Wrists and ankles. The kind with the soft wool lining so they don't chafe, and thick chrome rings on the outside. The good, expensive kind that you can use long term. No cheap pot-metal handcuffs. Picking them up, he couldn't help but take a sniff, letting the unique and strangely relaxing aroma of leather fill his nose.

The cuffs were easy enough to put on - simply wrapped around a wrist and then thread a thong through a buckle and pull it tight. He had to kneel to put the other set on his fetlocks though, and doing so made the latex toy in his butt shift and press on his prostate. He had to bite his lip to prevent any sound from slipping out.

Stepping gingerly through the door-frame, he was mildly amazed at the size of the room. It was probably the size of his entire apartment. Cole stood at a mini-bar that could have comfortably sat three people, pouring himself a generous glass of something amber. The floor was a dark wood, maybe oak. There was a fireplace opposite a huge L-shaped couch that filled a portion of the room, and beside a television that probably cost more than he made in a month. The entire room was dressed in creams and whites, starkly contrasting the panther's own fur.

"Kneel there," came the order, Cole pointing at a spot in front of the couch near a low glass-topped coffee table. Leaning on the bar and taking a swig from his tumbler, he waited for the gazelle to take his place before continuing. "So I figure we better go over the ground rules."

Tyron nodded, hoping it wouldn't take long. The hardwood floor was going to kill his knees real fast. "Yeah, dude, I mean, making me get naked outside was hot and all but I thought this was just gonna be a quick roll in the hay," he trailed off under Cole's glare.

"I work hard, out on the rigs. There ain't no time for fun out there, and I sure as shit don't think any of the other guys would 'preciate a hony cat coming onto them. So when I get back from a job, I play hard, and I need someone I can work out my stress on. Understand?"

The antelope nodded again, staying quiet this time for his own good.

"Now, I think your muzzle would look real fine wrapped around my dick. I also think I might want to find out how many times you'll shoot when I'm plowing your ass. But I don't want no sass. I ain't got time for talk. Play nice, and I'll give you the most mind-blowing fuck of your life. The safeword'll be fishfingers, but if you use it.. yer out the door. If you're staying, put your head on the floor."

The antelope was mildly stunned. He certainly hadn't expected that this stud of a panther would want him to spend the night, humping like rabbits until the dawn came up. But he couldn't deny the appeal of it, or the bulge in the cat's pants. His own arousal was as hard as a rock from the predator's treatment, and he slowly tilted himself forwards. Placing his hands out to lower himself gently, he tipped his chin down towards his chest until his forehead pressed against the rigid boards, ass up in the air.

"Good," said Cole, an unseen cheshire grin on his muzzle as he gathered up the additions to the gazelle's bondage from beneath the bar.

Tyron's ears twitched at the sound of metal clinking, staying patiently still as the cat moved closer and set down his drink on the table. He could feel the heat of the panther's body rolling over him long before he felt his touch - a hand roughly grabbing his wrist and pulling it up behind his back, then the other hand and the snap of a carbiner to lock his arms behind his back. Looking back between his legs he could see the panther working to fix a short chromed bar between the cuffs on his ankles, effectively hobbling him.

The panther moved away from him, the feet stepping around him and towards the couch - pausing only for a moment to collect his drink. There was the twang of elastic and a swish as clothing was removed, and then the woosh of the couch cushions. "C'mon slut, get started."

When Tyron managed to lift his head up, the first thing he saw was the panther's naked legs. Following them up he was greeted by the sight of that fat feline erection, a couple of Cole's fingers wrapped around the base to wiggle it from side to side. Bottomless, the cat was slouched on the couch, still wearing his wife-beater and colourful shirt and holding his drink in his other hand, the sweatpants discarded on the floor nearby.

"Get over here and get to work, I ain't got all day," he smirked, taking a slug from his drink.

Shuffling forwards on his knees was awkward, but not impossible, without the use of his hands. It took a short while to cover the five or six feet, but eventually Tyron was kneeling between the panther's spread legs. Leaning forwards, the strong musk of the cat hit him first - quickly followed by the tip of the cock slapping on to the top of his muzzle. Cole chuckled above him as the degrading act was repeated with a second meaty slap. "Open up, 'zelle. I ain't bust a nut yet today. An' stick your tongue out."

Ears flattened back, Tyron tilted his head back and opened his muzzle wide. Broad, flat tongue laid across his lower teeth. Pressing his dick down, Cole slowly fed the glans of his member into the antelope's muzzle, using the curled tongue as a guide. Grinning down at the gazelle, he rolled his hips gently, grinding himself across the pink muscle for several languid moments. Pausing to finish his drink and discard the glass, he placed his hand on the top of Tyron's head between his horns and urged him further downwards.

The cock left a trail of salty pre on his tongue as it slid against it, lighting up his taste buds with the cat's musk. He whined as his jaws were levered apart around the girth of Cole's prick, nose pressing ever steadily onwards until the tip was tickling the back of his mouth, and he could see there was still another couple of inches to go. He started to pull back, only to be brought to a halt by the panther's paw. Looking upwards, he saw a smirking grin, and Cole shook his head as he moved his grip to the gazelle's horns and pulled, threatening to breach his throat.

He would by lying if he didn't admit that for at least a moment, he panicked. Cole held him there, on the verge of being forced to deep-throat the cat's sizeable cock, before the grip suddenly relaxed and let him pull back, but almost as quick his head was yanked down again as the panther started to eagerly face-fuck the antelope, using his horns like a pair of handles to control where and when the warm, wet mouth went.

With his muzzle stuffed to the brim over and over again he didn't have time to swallow, and the steady trickle of the feline's precum and his own saliva was beginning to bubble at the corners of his lips. He squeezed his eyes shut as his head was held in a vice-like grip and his mouth was used by the stranger he'd met only moments ago, jaw aching from the size of it, tongue itching from the tiny barbs around the rim of the glans. But suddenly it was gone, leaving a strand of drool dripping down to the floor.

Almost as quick, Cole stood up and using his grip on Tyron's horn dragged him to the end of the couch, pulling him up bodily to stand on his hooves before shoving roughly over the arm, leaving him with his face buried in the cushions his ass in the air once more. Fingers pried under his tail, trying to find a grip on the plug that was keeping him stretched open. When they found it, they wasted no time in pulling the plug out - forcing a groan from him, and spasm of pleasurable pain from his body as his ring stretched around the thickest part of the rubber toy.

As it slipped free, those hands were all over his ass again - pulling his cheeks apart to inspect the already stretched and lubed orifice. Then the hot, blunt tip of the cat's dick pressed into him, gliding easily into the gazelle's ass. He groaned as the tapered length started to spread him more, reaching the width of the plug before Cole's hips pressed against his butt. And then just as he had done with his face, he started to fuck him - hard and fast, taking his pleasure from the hoofer's wriggling and helpless body.

Tyron whimpered breathlessly into the seating, the dominant cat's pace quicker than he could cope with. His muscles didn't have time to contract each time the panther retreated before it was being jammed roughly into him again. The feline barbs were tickling his pucker now as the shaft was pulled nearly completely out of him before being plunged in again, and it felt like an excited fox was bouncing up and down on his prostate like it was a trampoline.

The prolonged arousal took it's toll on the gazelle, and with a squeal he came. His erection, trapped against the arm of the couch twitched as it sprayed his load onto the wooden floor. His tail flagged with each contraction and set Cole snarling as the antelope's ass squeezed his dick. Claws sank into his hips as the cat gave several more frantic thrusts before delivering his own climax into Tyron's prone body.

Cole collapsed onto his back, pinning him in place. Not that he wanted to move - winded perhaps almost as much as the big cat by the frantic fuck. The two of them lay like that for several minutes, each catching their breath before the cat placed a hand in the middle of the antelope's back and pushed himself up, crushing him into the sofa. A hand reached around and gripped his sensitive shaft, still oozing the last few droplets of his orgasm and squeezed it hard enough to make him dance his shackled hooves.

"Here now, I know we only jus' got started," growled Cole. "But this won't do. I'll forgive it this time, but you don't get to squirt unless I say so, ya hear?"

Tyron nodded mindlessly, still foggy. Pulling out with a lewd slurp of suction, Cole quickly replaced his dick with the rubber plug. He drove it in, eliciting a tired moan from the gazelle as it once again stretched him open before popping in, his pucker clenching down weakly on the thin shaft behind the bulb.

Cole walked away, pouring himself another drink at the mini-bar before returning with something else in his hand. He grabbed the prostate gazelle's muzzle in one hand while he forced the ball gag between his teeth with the other, snapping the fastening's quickly shut behind his head, and leaving him there, draped across the furniture like an old throw-rug.

"I think I might keep you a spell longer yet. I got about three weeks afore I ship out again. And if you pop again without my say so, you'll regret it."