FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

The pursuit of fur could be a truly dangerous one.

Protests took place in front of shopping malls in larger cities almost every week to protest the use of real fur in fashion and clothing products, and as a more progressive mindset made its way around the planet, activists were starting to fight back for those who couldn't fight for themselves.

That didn't much matter to Serafima, who truly believed that her money and social status put her on a level above the law, and above the timid, pitiful protests of the unwashed masses.

"They protest my stores...they protest my clothing lines, my entire way of life!" she shouted, as she took a long, deep sip from a crystal wine flute. "Their jealousy befouls the good nature of my stores and leaves me scrambling to set up PR campaigns...to the point that I can't even wear fur outside of my home anymore!"

Her home reflected everything that she was as a person; opulence was evident in every inch of the floor, every speck of paint on the walls, and every furnishing and detail. Upon stone, marble and slate floors, decorations were often needed, and in her home, fur rugs were the only choice that she believed was sitting of her lifestyle. She accepted no substitutes, and though it was an expensive hobby, she was willing to go out and get the furs herself, if she needed to.

That said, hunting was simply beneath her, and thanks to the fortunes she'd made, she was coming up with new ways to satisfy the demand for her questionable products.

"Do you understand why your kind frustrates me so much, James? Have you come to realize why I've brought you here, this day?"

Serafima's affluence didn't stop at the size of her mansion. Within the massive building, there were rooms that many other people would never dream to have a need for, and that evening, as storm clouds rolled into view from the massive, picture windows of her study, flashes of lightning in the clouds cast a haunting glow upon the already sparkling blonde tresses of her hair. Her eyes were hazel orbs of frustration, and they were narrowed on poor James, who had no choice but to enjoy what might have been a spectacular view...if he were able to relax.

A chair that might be better described as a throne was his seat, and his wrists were tied to the arms of the furniture. He was able to kick his legs, but he'd long exhausted his energy trying to struggle free of the chair, and even if his arms were to be freed, a thick, metal collar extended from the back of the chair and wrapped tightly around his neck, keeping him in place no matter what escape plan might come to fruition. "Because you're a fucking psychopath, and you really believe that stealing a protestor off of the streets is going to stop us from picketing in front of your stores?"

"You think with such a tiny scale, James, and there's a reason why people like you protest in front of large buildings all day: you secretly long to be the person who owns them, and like a pitiful little dog, peeing on a fire hydrant, you think that marking your territory means that it belongs to you...when in reality, the larger dog still owns his property, regardless of your pathetic attempts!"

It was an impressive analogy from a woman who wasn't publicly known for her intelligence, but it left James wishing that he could cock his head to the side. "That still doesn't tell me why I'm here, Sera."

"You're here because you think that you can make a difference to the world by holding up a crappy, cardboard sign and marching around in front of a store...but I want to enlighten you, James. I want to show you that your protests mean nothing at all, and in fact, that I can turn you against the very cause that you claim to champion."

All around the impressive mansion, James was able to see the reminders of what a terrible world he lived in. Sera made sure that he got an eyeful of the rundown slums that surrounded her tiny, private world, and naturally, tall fences with barbed wire and spiked pillars surrounded the mansion, preventing anyone from getting anywhere near Sera, or the world that she was secretly creating.

"I don't care how much money you have, Sera. You can't just buy people out!"

"Why the hell would I bother buying you out? No one even knows who you are, James. If I hadn't stolen your wallet in the process of kidnapping you, I wouldn't even know your name, and frankly, I wouldn't fucking care to hear it," Serafima explained. "You're no good to me as a straw-man...but you may have use to me in another way, and I think you'd be pleased to know that it'll be removing hunting from the process of getting live fur entirely."

For the first time since he'd been kidnapped, James felt a rush of relief, but it wasn't allowed to linger; his brain was smart enough to realize that nothing good could come from someone who literally threw him into a van and drove him away, no matter how she might try to make it sound like a positive.

"There's no way that you can have fur without death. Farming isn't any better than hunting!"

"It is, if you don't have to kill anything."

"That's not possible...though I'm not surprised that you'd have trouble with that concept."

"And you, as a small-minded fool, fail to realize that with enough money, enough research, and enough time, you can make anything possible."

A series of small pinpricks covered James' neck, and he could only imagine that he was feeling needles jabbing into the sides of his throat. Each little prick lasted less than a moment, but they left behind a strange itch...one that started small and insignificant, but being unable to scratch them, James was quick to wince his eyes shut and try to distract himself.

"Science has come a long way in the last few decades, James. We're able to do things with gene-splicing that we never could in the earlier half of the 21st century, and though you would likely protest this, as well, it's going to save the lives of thousands of small, helpless creatures, and in the process, turn me into the merciful matriarch of the fashion business that I've always believed myself to be!"

Being able to say that fur wasn't farmed or hunted, and yet, was somehow the authentic article was theoretically impossible. James still believed that...even as he felt a strange warmth building upon his neck, right near the injection sites.

"Wh...what did you just shoot me up with, Sera?"

"The most revolutionary chemical that we've ever come up with, my dear James. Beauty products are so last century, and make-up can't hide a rotten personality...but with this, we might be able to solve the problems of companionship, and the stigma around the fur trade in one fell swoop. You should be thrilled to be part of something that's so humane!"

James was struggling with the terrible itch that was spreading through his neck, to the point that his ears were barely registering the condescending words of the woman standing over him. His eyes stayed shut in a tight, pained wince as the sensation spread down through his neck and into his shoulders, to a point that he wouldn't be able to reach, even if his arms weren't tied down to the chair.

It was infuriating.

"I'm sure that you're wondering how I plan to get fur from animals without killing them or farming them. I'm sure that the sensation running through your skin is driving you up the wall, as well," Sera taunted her capture, as he squirmed rapidly against the throne, trying to scratch the terrible itch that crawled across his body, as if he'd tripped and fallen onto a colony of fire ants. "Thanks to a few years in the laboratory, working on this little concoction...I've got the answer to your problem, and mine."

James didn't want to open his eyes. Any sort of shifting made him think of the itch, but the warmth that was following was even more concerning, and finally, with an effort, he cracked one eye open and glanced down over his chest, only to see a small tuft of fur rising up from it. The fluff was pushing his shirt out away from his body, and across what he could see of his neck, tawny fur and tiny spots were already forming on top of red, irritated skin.

"Before you ask, you're not seeing things. Everything is going exactly as I intended it to."

Squirming harder than ever, finding his energy was renewed with his panic, James still couldn't escape his bondage. The cuffs actually felt tighter than before, as fur continued to spring up across his body in large, thick and delicate tufts, while the flesh between those spaces filled in a bit more slowly. The end result was still a coat of fur that sat upon a slowly transforming body, and the lack of protest from James wasn't because of his itch, or his frustration.

It was the feeling of the bones in his jaw popping out of place and jutting forward, as a muzzle began to form from human cheeks.

"Just think of the possibilities, James," Sera's tone changed as she stepped a little closer to the throne. She slipped her feet out of the tall, painful heels of red that she wore mostly for show, and the matching dress upon her body was easily slipped overhead and tossed away, sitting in a pile with the footwear. All that remained was a pair of tight pantyhose, and a brazier above that barely managed to contain her ample, healthy cleavage. "A living fur coat...natural warmth, with no maintenance, no hunting, no killing...just a small body of fashionable heat, wrapped around those who are lucky enough to be able to afford it!"

James found a terrible difficulty in having any sort of rational thoughts, as the chemicals continued to manipulate his brain into changing the very structure of his body. If he were standing and observing the moment, he might have found it fascinating that someone came up with a serum that could blend the lines between the genome of a human and another animal, but to actually live the experience was painful and frightening, even when Serafima stood right before him, scantily clad, and began to stroke her open palms across the fluff on his arms.

"You're already so soft..." she muttered, her voice slightly dreamy with a lust that was kept hidden, until her fetish was revealed by the serum. With a deep, satisfied gulp, she took the last drink of her wine and tossed the crystal glass over her shoulder, allowing it to shatter on the floor with a satisfying ka-tish."I can't wait to wrap you around my body, James. I'd happily die in your warmth, if that was to be my fate!"

Straddling the trapped male, Serafima climbed right up into his lap and wrapped her hands around his face as his muzzle took a more solid shape. Ears that felt as though they were melting right off of the side of his head were actually just changing shape, and soft, flowing tufts of fur were poking out of the canals as a stout, feline muzzle pouted, the only reaction that James could muster to show his displeasure with the moment.

Though he couldn't see all of his body to know it, he was turning into a lynx, and though his body was slimming down enough that he could escape the bonds of the throne, his muscles weren't responding, despite his mind overtly commanding them to.

"I can see the panic in your eyes...nothing's working, is it, James?" she asked, as she crooked a single fingertip and tickled under his chin.

Thaaaaaaaat was unexpected, James thought, as he felt a downright electrifying sensation running from his neck, right down the length of his spine, until it spread across his melting body. Where...where did all of that pain go? It's all gone...?

"Don't worry. It's perfectly normal to feel a bit...saggy. You're not quite yourself anymore, James, but you're taking the form you were always meant to take," Serafima explained, as she lifted up on James from his neck, though it was fading the moment that she touched it. His entire body was losing shape, and distinguishing features were fading away...but somehow, he was still conscious. Even as his eyes literally sunk into a sea of fur and disappeared, there was still a mind, still a thought process, still a brain...all perceiving what was happening to him, even if he couldn't see it.

He could only feel what was now his body being wrapped around the warm, smooth flesh of a lustful, powerful seductress, and every inch of his form ignited with pleasure, like the spark of a funeral pyre.

"It really is a shame that you can't see what you're doing to me, James. I wish that you were allowed to keep such gifts, like your sight," Serafima mentioned, "But you've gotten a much greater gift, in return."

James could still think, and though his train of thought was riddled with expletives and confusion, he couldn't deny that every time Serafima so much as shrugged her shoulders or took a step, he felt nearly orgasmic waves of pleasure running through his formless body. He was wrapped around her slim figure to perfection, allowing only her pantyhose to emerge from just above her thigh, but save for a gap for her face to fit through, she was completely covered with the new body of James, who couldn't deny the surges of ecstasy that covered his form.

His body had no way to express an orgasm, and he didn't know what the result might be, but the entirety of his mind was riddled with pleasure as Serafima reached between her legs and stroked her covered hand against the mound of her womanhood. Even though her pantyhose, James could feel the slick, dripping warmth of her feminine moisture pouring through the fabric, and mingling with his very existence, as she pleasured herself with the copious amounts of fur that he offered.

"Do you f-feel me marking you, James?" Serafima asked him, knowing that he could no longer properly hear her, but he could certainly feel her, and she was sure that he knew what the fluid sensation was. "You're mine, you worthless little protester...in this new form, I'm giving you a new life...a new purpose...a-and I'll make damn sure that y-you know your place!"

Serafima went shamelessly to the floor and brushed the natural fur of her new lynx coat across her sex, knowing that she was soaking what could be an extremely valuable product...but the money was of no concern to her, anymore. Her lustful desires for fur would be fulfilled, and James, for his part, wouldn't be able to do a damn thing about it. His entire existence was a long, formless orgasm, from which there was no return...even as he was soaked with the slick, spilling juices of the woman who'd literally taken his life away.

So...so strange...where would it even come out? he wondered. He was sure that his new form didn't have proper genitals, and it certainly didn't have any fluids within it to discharge. He didn't know much of anything about his new body, never really getting a proper chance to see it, but Serafima was enjoying it to the fullest, and in turn, James was allowed to do the same, a mercy that he wasn't expecting from such a cruel woman. Dunno...don't care, either...what a fucking amazing feeling...it's like my whole body is just a giant lightning rod for pleasure!

Pantyhose were ripped wide open without a care. Serafima knew that her serum was working to the full effect on James, who no longer had a body to show for it, but that meant she was lagging slightly behind, and she owned a clothing company; getting a new pair of pantyhose wasn't a big deal.

Missing out on the kind of orgasm that she was rarely so lucky to have, however, was something that she simply would not allow.

"Brush right a-against my clit, James," she ordered him, as if he had a choice in the matter. The decorations of fur rugs, fur liners on her bed spread, and the company that she owned were all starting to make a little more sense, as she buried a finger deep into her snatch and began to rub it against the top surface of her vaginal walls, desperately searching for her g-spot, as the fur upon her sleeve brushed back and forth over the buzzing, erect nub of her clit, providing her with an untold amount of pleasure, and sharing the same with James, who didn't know for sure what act he was taking part in...he only knew that he was enjoying every second of it, even when the pace picked up. "That's it..._nnnyes...yes, yes, yes! _"

In the privacy of her own study, surrounded both literally and figuratively by the threads of her fetish, Serafima leaned flat onto her back and kicked her legs up as she closed her eyes and imagined the large, fur-covered creature above her, taking her body wrapping her up in the orgasmic warmth that only it could offer. James was forced into the role, but for all of his protests and struggles, he happily gave into the needs and desires of Serafima...forever controlled by the pleasure that she'd offered him.

I'm cumming...please, make me cum, Sera! James mentally cried, and though the woman who now used him as a living sex toy couldn't hear him, she answered his call and rubbed her spare arm across her breasts, bringing her own body to a feverish, trembling climax in time with James' own.

To be without form, and yet, still be able to experience the mental high of his release was something that James only wished he could describe: it was as if he was swimming through a gentle stream of euphoria, without beginning or end, without shores or borders...and though he couldn't see where he'd come from, he was only worried about where he was going.

The shaky mess of spilling juices and climactic delight that was Serafima had plenty of use for James beyond the bedroom, after all...and though he didn't know he'd be helping the cause of a woman who was his mortal enemy that morning, he wasn't sure how he could complain, when it would only be the first of many orgasms for him that night.