FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

“Are we getting closer?” Vanilla asked the group for perhaps the dozenth time that hour. She’d been visibly antsy ever since she, Rouge, and Amy had set foot in the forest, her paws fidgeting in front of her chest as she carefully stepped through the twig-strewn ground while trying not to scratch or dirty her dress.

Vanilla was lucky she was behind Rouge so that she didn’t see the bitterly impatient look on the bat’s face. “Yes, Vanilla, we have to be.” She led the trio deeper into the forest, her supremely sensitive bat ears cocked forward to catch audible glimpses of that alluring music. She was better prepared for the journey through the woods, putting on some thick cargo pants and combat boots. A white tank top kept the sharp and bulky muscles of her arms exposed, that and a healthy length of cleavage. The rugged physique of hers had been forged by years of serving as a cop. “I can hear it getting louder. Just be patient.” It was just as much a statement to herself as to Vanilla. Secretly she was just as eager to find out what was going on, what that sound was, and why it drew her in so persuasively. She thought she was crazy when it first wafted through her window in the night. It was a relief when the other women said they had heard it too and wanted to investigate.

“I can hear it too,” said Rose, wearing her usual pink attire. Her quills were tied into a ponytail for the adventure. “Just barely. I really gotta stop and listen, but it’s there.”

“I can hear it too, but I can’t tell if it’s getting closer or not,” Vanilla said. She pouted. “I don’t know if I’m going insane or not.”

“You aren’t,” assured Rouge. “I hear it too, and we’re not stopping until we find out what it is and who’s making it.”

It had droned into town two days ago, that murmur of music, a strange percussive beat accompanied by a mysterious melody. It came from the forest to the east, wiggling into the women’s ears and making home in their brains. So far away, and yet so close. How could they hear it so clearly, and why wasn’t anyone else hearing it? Most disturbing of all was its euphoric allure, that feeling it aroused in them like there was nothing to worry about, they were loved, all their needs would be taken care of forever.

Something this bizarre couldn’t be ignored. Rouge said she would investigate what was going on, and the other two quickly volunteered to join her. Now that they all marched in the direction of the sound, its repetitive but catchy track growing louder and more distinct, Rouge was left to wonder if she was doing this to put an end to it, or to experience more of that relief of her stress, that vague and distant promise that she would be safe and happy from now on. She swore an oath to continue for the former reason, but with every sliver of a decibel added to that sound she felt her pace quickening.

“I wonder what it is,” said Vanilla in a tone hushed by wonder. “Is it someone playing music for us? Is it coming from a speaker? We’re not on drugs, are we?”

“I don’t remember taking anything,” said Rose. “And if it’s some kind of speaker in the middle of the forest, how come only us three can hear it? If it was loud enough to be heard all the way in town, then why does it barely get louder when we get closer? Shouldn’t it be shaking the ground or making the birds fly away?”

“That’s what I’m asking,” said Vanilla. “It just doesn’t make any sense.” Her fingers mulled about each other incessantly. She’d withstood the music’s allure just as sincerely as the other two. It hounded her to no end, piquing her curiosity like few things ever had.

“No,” said Rose. Her attention was on the forest ahead and Rouge leading them. “It doesn’t. Let’s just find this thing-” If it even exists. “-and figure out what the hell it is.”

“That’s why we’re here,” Rouge said sternly. “Let’s keep moving. It’s getting louder.” The other two obeyed, staying silent as they kept their eyes forward and their ears open.

The music was getting louder. Soon all three of them could tell. The conversation and guesses had come to an end. They marched through the forest with backs upright, expressions like stone, hearts beating at the same cadence as their footfalls. Rouge went ahead at a brisk pace, deaf to the loud snap of twigs beneath her feet. Vanilla didn’t care about her dress anymore. Her arms were down at her sides, balled into half-fists. Rose matched their dedication, just able to wonder what had come over them before writing it off. They were close. Nothing mattered more than finding the source of the music, finding out what it was, and to make all their worries melt away.

They eventually started feeling the music thrum on their bodies more than they heard it. Each beat of the drum was a shove in the chest, a chill through the muscles and skin, another promise to take care of everything. Rouge saw it first, the clearing in the woods ahead, that granite building that stood in the middle like some neo-classical monument. The three women stepped into the clearing without haste. They found the source of the music, its sweet melody blaring out of the open door, ringing in their ears as if originating in their minds and not from that queerly placed building. The women fell in file, Rouge in the lead, Vanilla at the center, Rose taking the back. The front door was open. They stepped inside.

Beyond the initial veil of black that shielded them from the bright sun were panels of swirling black and green. Their eyes adjusted to see walls covered in every inch by massive flat screens. They illuminated the interior with an alien green glow that faded and pulsed with the even swirl of black that followed it. It reflected in their eyes without blur, pasting over the irises and the white around them. Rouge came to a stop in the very center of the floor, head upturned to stare into the largest screen in front of her. The other two stood in line on both sides of her, staring directly into that green-black maelstrom, minds blank, memories of the swan song losing tangibility.

They were not alone. Sitting in his chair was a black hedgehog wearing a pair of shorts, nude to the waist with his muscular physique on display. Two broad quills swooped up from his hairline, another pair plummeting down his back. Along each quill were a trio of neon green, that which matched the ethereal swirl blinding all three women. He regarded them with a satisfied grin while propping his head up on his fist. In the other hand he kept a remote control. He pressed down on one of the dials, subjugating the volume of the music he’d been blasting from the speakers these past few days.

He opened his arms out to them in greeting. “Ladies! Welcome to my humble abode.” He got up from his chair and strode towards them, his arms still held out in that welcoming gesture with the remote in his hand. “I take it you enjoyed the little song I wrote for you. Finding this place wasn’t too hard, I hope.”

The three ladies looked down from the hypnoscreen at him. A fluttering heart was had by them all, the handsome hedgehog’s color scheme matching what they saw swirling around them and what filled them with that feeling of sanctuary. They could hold on to the last of their cognizance for now, but it was melting fast with their host’s coy smile and the swirling at his back. “You’re… you’re the one playing the music?” Rouge asked.

The hedgehog bowed his head humbly. “Yup. That was me.” He brandished the remote and gave it a wiggle. “I see you liked it. I composed it over the past few weeks trying to get the perfect frequency and rhythm you girls would like. Looks like I did a pretty good job.”

“What is it?” Vanilla asked with childlike wonder. She wasn’t looking directly at the swirling screens anymore, but she still felt its intoxicating influence. It was the same as what she felt from listening to the music. It seemed to resonate in the hedgehog’s voice too. “Who are you?”

“Name’s Shroud. Nice to meet you gals, though I’ve gotten to see you a few times already in town. You look much prettier up close, I gotta say.”

Rouge managed a frown. “You… You’ve seen us before?”

“Just once. I’ve been on the prowl for some new concubines and thought the three of you would make the perfect addition.” His eyes traveled Rouge up and down, staying for a moment on her chest and muscular arms. “I gotta say, I can already tell I made the right choice. You girls look amazing.”

“Concubines?” demanded Rose. It was a genuine question. She knew what the word meant, but something blocked her from comprehending it, like it was a word that couldn’t apply to her. Not because she simply wasn’t one, but because becoming one seemed too good to be true. But it’s not good. Why isn’t this bothering me as much as I should? How am I not reacting to this? How are none of us reacting? Those questions seemed less and less pertinent as she looked Shroud in the face. He was very handsome and charismatic. It didn’t surprise her that he had composed the music that brought him there.

“That’s right,” Shroud said with a nod. “Don’t worry, it’s nothing you girls won’t like or are incapable of. You’ve got the right bodies for it. Right now, we’re waiting on having the right minds.” He gave an evil smirk. “By the looks on your faces I can tell it won’t be long.”

Concubine. That word repeated itself in all three of the women’s heads. They envisioned themselves around the foot of Shroud’s chair, worshipping him in skimpy, garish outfits, willing and eager to perform whatever task he asked of them. It should’ve appalled them. They should’ve turned around and left him in the dust, angry and disappointed by what they’d come so far to find. Rouge was close to balling her fist and flying over to sock the guy in his mouth. But they didn’t do anything like that. They just stood there staring blankly at him, the image of their subservience to him arousing some a kind of sensation they couldn’t describe but thoroughly enjoyed.

Shroud stepped forward while tucking the remote into his pocket. He started circling the girls and scanning their bodies and clothes. “It’s been a while, I’ll admit, but I like to think I’ve still got the right eye for this kind of thing. My music is on point. So are my tastes.” He came to a stop right behind the girls before walking up behind Rouge and pressing his chest into her upper back so that his head loomed over her, that smug grin of his hovering between her big bat ears. He placed his hands on the shoulders of Vanilla and Rose. “What do you girls think? Wouldn’t you love to be mine?”

The soft bump from behind knocked Rouge off balance. Her eye twitched and she was able to shut them and shake her head. No! Snap out of it. She could tell herself that, but not shake the fog that shrouded her mind. It was like trying to stay awake in a comfy bed after a long day. She would snap awake, only to nod back into Shroud’s comforting embrace. She managed to stutter. “N-no… We… we can’t…” Her voice trailed. Finding the words was proving impossible. She had to close her eyes.

“What’s that?” Shroud asked. “What is it you can’t do?” He peeked around her shoulder and saw that her eyes were closed. That simply wouldn’t do. He pulled the remote back out of his pocket and turned the dial up. The speakers rumbled back to life, pounding out that perfectly written score. Just the opening chord elicited a gasp in all three of them, that carefree bliss returning tenfold. Rouge opened her eyes. With the swell of their lungs came the lift of their gazes, once again into the vortexes on the TV screens. “Tell me,” Shroud whispered into Rouge’s ear. “Tell me and I’ll take care of it. I’ll take care of anything you want.”

That much the three women could tell by sensation alone. The unique colors of their eyes were gone, scorched away by the swirling reflection in their corneas. Identities were lost, loyalties crumbled. Anything that was left of their self-control withered into a clod of dust Shroud kept piled in his hands, that which he could mold into his own shape. They had no need for it, not when they had such a brilliant master in Shroud.

The three women turned around to face him, their eyes still displaying the green and black spirals. Rouge spoke first, her voice a throaty monotone. “Yes, master. Please take care of us.”

“We surrender our minds and body to you,” declared Vanilla, no longer meek or timid.

“We are yours forever,” Rose said, her confidence relegated to whatever Shroud thought of her.

He had a high opinion, one he would demonstrate to her and the other newest members of his flock. “Good to hear, girls. I think you three and I will enjoy our time living together. Don’t you think?”

His concubines responded in unison, their shadows casted in front of them by the light of the TV screens. “Yes, master.”

THE END