FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

TRIGGER WARNING: This story contains latex transformation, a tiger, bondage, femdom, inflation, gender shifting, non-consensual sexual activity, slightly less non-consensual sexual activity, consensual sexual activity, anal, reverse anal, gratuitous RWBY references, herms, and a rather kinky IKEA hack.

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This is not my beautiful house.

This is not my beautiful couch.

I mean, it's a nice piece of furniture, don't get me wrong. It's kinda like a massage table covered in leather. The drool is mine, but I'm not sure the armcuffs are from the stock model. Probably not much overlap between your local outlet store and the BDSM crowd.

Well, except for the S folks watching the M folks try to assemble IKEA furniture.

I look down. You know those baseball shirts with the white chest and the colored sleeves? That's what I was wearing when I fell asleep, orange and white. That's what I was wearing when I woke up. But my pants, and underpants? Not so much. I'm as bare below as the day the doctor slapped my big brown behind.

Sorry. Couldn't resist.

There was nothing but darkness all around me. Just me and the bed. Table. Whatever. And the light shining on us both. I'm face down, and my legs are free. It's like I was on my hands and knees, and someone decided that to make my arms an offer they can't refuse.

Unless I learn to pick padlocks with my teeth in a big hurry, I ain't going nowhere.

I go "Honey? I'm impressed. Were you _hiding_this thing? Or did you just get it delivered? All without waking me up? I'd clap my hands except for-" And that's when I shrugged. "Y'know."

"This isn't our apartment."

Yep, that was her, all right. Back from the mall. I relaxed a little.

"So you moved me instead? I'm even more impressed. Where are we?"

"Apartment 3G."

I still couldn't tell where she was coming from.

"Isn't that the apartment of that artist girl? Is this some kinda threesome thing?"

"I picked up something for you."

"Huh?"

She put a large egg on the table in front of me. As in, ostrich. And blue.

Yeah, I know, Xenomorph eggs. That's what I started thinking about too.

"Yellow beauty burns gold."

She doesn't say anything.

"Yellow beauty burns gold."

Nothing.

"Red like roses."

"Oh baby...we are way past safewords."

Funny. You never think it'll happen to you.

The egg pops open, and little blue lizards crawl out. Well, to be precise, they start crawling off, like the egg was made of them. And then they come for me.

I try to get them off, but the suckers just crawl up my arms, down my back, and onto my butt.

I go "Honey, I'm not...into this."

She goes "You will be."

Oh, well, that makes me feel better.

I don't know if they were trained or what. Maybe they just liked the smell of crap. Of course, if they were looking for that, they should be in City Hall.

And then they just piled in, like my anus was the F train on a Friday afternoon.

It ain't a nice feeling, let me tell ya. They're cold, and their little feet are just - urgh. But once they get in, they kinda just sit there. I don't know how they all fit. Then I feel them moving around, and well, I don't know what it is.

Then...something starts coming out. It feels wet, it sticks to my tailbone, and it just keeps coming, kind of like taking a dump, but...wrong. Smoother.

Now, I thought the same thing you do; prolapse. Or hemorrhoids. I mean, Uncle Louie had it, but I'm not sure if it's genetic or anything. Maybe it's triggered by getting a buncha lizards stuffed into your anus. Maybe they were Bolivian Prolapse Lizards, I didn't know.

So I look over my shoulder, and there's something like a garden hose coming out from the end of my tailbone. And it's long, and shiny, and has stripes, and-it's moving. Like it's trying to escape. I don't know if the lizards turned into it or what, but it's coming out.

I can feel it. I can feel every inch. I can feel the hole clenching around it. I can feel it sliding out-

And then it just stops, like it got stuck on something.

Now, I never wanted the thing in the first place. But it seemed to me that if I was going to be stuck with it, I didn't want it hanging outta my bunghole. For one thing, that would make it really hard to sit down. Pour deux, how would I hide a tail if it was sticking out like a toilet U-Bend? I mean, I might get five minutes in a Vice documentary out of it, but then what?

So, I kinda flexed. It took a while, but I got it to twitch. Then I got it to wriggle. Then I got it to move. And I pulled-

You know how you hit your elbow sometimes, your funny bone, and it makes your arm tingle down to the fingers? Imagine that, except it skips the rest of the arm. Oh, and it's your anus and dick.

Stop laughing.

I swear, that's the best way to describe it. I try to pull my tail out, and it makes the tip of my dick tingle. So I get up on my hands and knees, and pull, and-

You ever grab the end of a jacket sleeve from the inside and pull it inside out? Like that. My tail was directly connected to my dick. I think there was a word for that.

Seemed like I had a choice to make.

"Seems like you have a choice to make."

Shut up, honey.

I'm just gonna say, I didn't make the decision lightly. On the one hand, tail sticking out. On the other, I like standing up to pee.

Well, they make prosthetics, don't they? Wasn't there that guy whose wife cut his dick off? And he got it reattached? Then he went into porn?

Heck, even if I couldn't, I'm pretty sure there was a niche for me. Like those transgender porn chicks who just keep their dicks.

I mean...so I've heard.

I don't know what was going on back there. It was like being on a high-fiber diet, like that weekend camping with my hippie ex. All sorts of muscles moving around. You push, and rest, and push, and rest, and eventually it pops out, and you take a break before you see if there's anything else in the chamber.

Except my tail didn't pop out.

I looked down.

Yep, my dick was gone, all right. And there it was, a shiny new vagina. Didn't even notice when I lost my nuts. But my tail was still stuck.

"You're still not finished, I think."

Y'know, I broke up with that hippie girlfriend after that camping trip. I was pretty sure this relationship was about to go the same way.

So. If the tail wasn't coming out, maybe I was supposed to push it back in? Just ease it in, gently, gently-

My nipples felt hot.

And heavy.

Remember that baseball shirt I was wearing? The white part just kinda shrink-wraps itself to my chest. Well, the front of my chest. I don't know what happens to the rest of it. It goes all the way down to my vagina - and there's two words I never expected to say - and pulls my waist in - shloop! - but the money shot here is the way my nipples poke out.

And then they drop.

And then they drop.

And then they stop dropping.

You ever put your finger in the corner of your mouth and pulled? It's kinda like that.

I'm thinking Those...those can't be real. Right?

I lower my chest to the table. Obviously, I didn't have any experience with what boobs felt like, but it seemed pretty convincing.

I gotta admit, that's when I kinda...lost it. I had boobs, I lost my dick, what was the point anymore? So I just kept pumping.

I feel my hips shift, getting wider. Women's hips.

I keep pumping.

Something thick comes out of my 'hole, like pushing a finger into a rubber glove full of, I dunno, lotion. More I pumped, the more came out, turning my brown skin black. First my legs, then my back. My front stayed white.

I keep pumping.

The sleeves of the shirt wrap around my arms. Are they...bigger? Do I have muscles? Yeah...yeah, tigers should have muscles. I watch the stripes fade in on my new Charles Atlas arms. The palms - pads - of my hands go white, nails pop out into claws.

Powerful.

Dangerous.

I'm getting into the pumping now.

My feet flex, get longer. Now I'm trying to just kinda grind my pussy - heh - along the bed. I feel it building, but nothing's happening, like a sneeze that won't come.

And then I feel it. Something in my stomach. I clench, and push, and try to push it down by pushing against the bed, and it eventually it squirts out. I catch it between my legs before it slips off.

I don't know why. At least, not at the time.

It was an egg.

An egg with stripes, like a...well, you know.

So, after I'm done staring, I start trying to walk it up the bed. It's kinda hard, without my arms, but I eventually get it past my boobs, into my hands, and I just look at it some more.

"How do I get this thing open?"

My beloved doesn't say anything.

I nuzzle it, and it gives a little. A little harder, and something sticks to my forehead. When I lift up my head, the egg just hangs off for a second, then the string snaps and it hits the table.

Huh.

I start headbutting the egg. Hold it steady with my paws, smash my face into it. More of the stuff sticks to my face, and I can feel it changing. I can feel my teeth getting sharper, my nose getting longer, my tongue getting rougher. My hearing cuts out, just for a second, and suddenly I'm hearing out of all-new ears. I can smell myself. I can smell the last bits of human. I smell the table, and the two other women.

I can smell when I come.

Eventually, there's no egg left.

When my tail finally pops out, I smell that too. Before you go 'you don't know where it's been!', it smelt like rubber. There's a little black on the end, a little line on the tip-

My girlfriend snaps a collar on me, rubs my head. I lean into it, she scratches behind my ears. "Good kitty." She hauls on the leash, the cuffs snap open, and she leads me off the table.

A light comes on.

The girl's tied to the chair. And blindfolded. And ballgagged. But someone - you get one guess - someone took off her pants. And her underpants.

My girlfriend says "I saw you looking. And when I...changed, I thought I could get you a present."

When my whiskers touch the girl's thighs, she gets scared. She gets even more scared when she feels my breath. Tries to cringe away. I can smell her sweat.

"And then I saw the table she had in her guest bedroom and...well, I was inspired."

I start licking.

"You would not believe how long it took me to rig up the lights."

The girl goes limp. Then she starts getting into it, thrusting back against my tongue. She doesn't even stop when her clit gets bigger, and bigger, and turns into something that, okay, sure ain't human. Not the shape, not the color.

"But I think it was worth it."

Then again, I'm not human anymore, either.

Mistress picks up my tail, rubs it between her hands for a few seconds-

Oh.

Oh.

I stop licking.

I swear, the girl bites clean though the ball-gag. At least enough to talk around it. She has a lot of sharp teeth she didn't have when I started. "Why'd you stop?"

I say "I got something better." Highest my voice's been since I was 15.

I hear the creak when my girlfriend sits in a leather chair, get the smell of her starting to enjoy herself. She says "Go get 'em, Tiger," in a whisper.

I spread the girl open, grab my tail in my off-hand.

It's funny, really. When I woke up this morning, I didn't expect to end up with claws and a tail. I didn't expect the tail to have a dick in it.

And I didn't expect the dick to be literally black.

I take a second to snicker, before I start the test drive.

And I do mean "drive".

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Obeysance 5: Tiger, Tyger 2016 Nequ CC By-SA-NC Gaffer: Sandy Reiser Fan stories welcome.

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Everting.

That was the word.

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If you're like me, you read a lot of books and stories. If you're a lot like me, you read a lot of bad stories.* Or at least, stories that would be good, except for one niggling detail.

Like Teyla Branton's The Change, where the niggling detail is the narration of the entire book.

If you read Worm, you might've noticed this too; the first person narration sounds _nothing_like the person the character is supposed to be. It sounds like the character is a writer. In fact, like someone on deviantART said, it's like they wrote it in third-person and changed the pronouns. If the lead character is your standard everyman-thrust-into-a-supernatural-world type, a law school dropout turned insurance clerk, I don't expect her to describe getting lowered into a coffin as "Exquisite torture."

So, that's why I wrote this story; sheer artistic outrage. I just wanted it to be done right for a change.

PS: I tried to write like the narrator was from New York. So, read this in Donald Trump's voice and tell me how fast it kills your boner. If it's a negative number, I don't wanna know.

* If you're even more like me, you write stories that are weird even by TF standards, but are popular for some reason.