FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

The florescent lights came on at exactly 6:45am along with the morning alarm. Zeak groaned and pulled his pillow up over his head. His wife Carmen turned over and shoved her husband twice before saying "Get up." Her tone was groggy and final. The daily ritual had been going on for nearly six years. With a world wary sigh Zeak sat up to look across the room at the offending clock.

The morning routine, coffee and eggs went by in a daze. Zeak stood in front of the bathroom mirror adjusting his collar and tie while Carmen was just beginning to crawl out of the bed to start her own day. His business cropped hairline was beginning to peak at the edges of his temples as his brown hair receded by the year. The two crossed paths and Zeak smiles when Carmen leaned over and kissed his cheek. "Keep up the good work today. I'll talk to you later." She whispered with affection.

"Thanks, You have a client at five?" Zeak inquired in his usual fashion. This maelstrom of activity seemed to happen without fail for the last two weeks. Carmen's nod of acknowledgement carried with it the knowledge that Zeak had to fend for his own dinner and entertainment. Time was pressing, so the two wished each other their daily pleasantries before they parted for the evening. Arriving in the garage Zeak's silver Nissan waited for him as it always had.

Traffic was an oppressive weight on Zeak's mind as the four-lane freeway crawled a few car lengths at a time. He looked down at the clock softly glowing from the console, another five minutes passed as he turned onto 4th avenue. There was nothing for it but to roll down the window and turn up the radio. The avenue was thrumming with visitors, some kind of convention was going on at the main hotels that crossed the thoroughfare. Dazzling colors and wild shapes festively adorned nearly three dozen anthropomorphic costumed convention goers which appeared to be the reason traffic was so terrible in this intersection.

Three of the costumed convention goers were holding intricate looking glass cylinders above their heads while a fourth stood upon a small homemade platform. "Today we give you all the gift sought by every furson the world over! No longer will you feel trapped in a body not your own. We will rise up, and become everything we wish to be. Be prepared to stand together. The world surely will not understand." Shouted the costumer on the platform. Forty people stood around gawking just like the drivers who wanted nothing more than to vent their frustration on those holding up traffic for such an obscure soothsayer. Zeak shook his head in annoyance and bewilderment towards the display. Thankfully work was only three blocks away.

In a well-coordinated display the three cylinder wielding people cast down their burdens which smashed with a resounding spray of glass fragments. A cloud of semi translucent haze expanded rapidly from the crowd in a torrent of swirling color. Those trapped within began screaming and coughing. Zeak didn't have enough time to roll the window up as the brilliantly colored miasma poured into the open window. Several cars tried to pull away from the catastrophized sidewalk only to strike another vehicle stuck in front of them.

Zeak finished rolling up the window cursing at the lunacy of the scene. He couldn't help coughing and felt the immediate need to escape. It was only by suppressing the feeling and driving across to the far lane that he departed. Zeak sat in the Nissan thinking over what he'd seen. A deep part of him seethed with anger, what had they been talking about? He couldn't remember. Zeak looked at the clock and groaned. It read 9:27am, he was late to his morning meeting. With swift measured strides he took up his briefcase and ascended to the eleventh floor.

Samantha was typing on her computer which was set into the entryway of Sinclair and Sinclair Design and Development. Samantha was a wholesomely sweet looking woman with auburn hair and round cheeks. She smiled at Zeak with her typical cheer, but it did not take long to sour. "Mr. Reed, are you feeling well?" she asked with concern worn on her sleeve. Zeak dabbed at his sweat slick brow and nodded "Yes, I am fine. Bit of an odd affair on 4th today. Did the morning meeting go well?" he asked with some nerves. Samantha kept her concerned look plain on her face but did not press him farther. "Yes, they finished about five minutes ago. Mr. Sinclair would like to see you when you're available. Around one if possible." She finished. It wasn't a suggestion and Zeak knew it.

Zeak shut his mouth and briskly walked to his office which was located two doors down from Mr.Sinclair's corner space. He had nearly three hours to stew in the sensation of regret. Discarding the briefcase in its usual spot Zeak sat back in the comfortable leather chair which dominated his relatively small desk and personal space. Zeak took a few deep breaths in hopes to calm his thoughts. God he was sweating from the nerves! The breaths were coming a bit shallow though, and it was getting progressively harder to focus. With clammy hands he brushed his forehead "I'm burning up." Zeak said to himself in the empty office space.

Zeak's attempt to stand up a few minutes later met with terrible results. The world churned like a surrealist painting, and colors splashed to life all around him. A wave of fear rolled over Zeak and he considered to call out for help, but the words felt like thick gobs of cotton in his throat. His pulse began thundering in his ears as his balance fell away. The scratchy office carpet felt like a reprieve from the spinning world around him.

Zeak felt pins and needles electrifying every inch of his nose and jaw. Muscle spasms seemed to pulse out from his torso down to the very tips of his fingers and toes. "Hel.. Help!" the spasming man said in the breathiest voice. It was to no avail, his office was surrounded by half a dozen others, but he was utterly alone. Sinew and cartilage popped dramatically in the hand laying twitching in front of Zeak's face. The shape of his wrists narrowed while his fingers lengthened into delicate feminine proportion. It was an utterly alien experience as a sheen of fine fur spread across the appendage in tones of black and grey.

Writhing about the ground was doing Zeak little good. He turned over onto his back to once again struggle for deeper breaths, but his mouth and nose just weren't in the right spots any more. He could see the very tip of a black nose framed by dark grey fur which was far too easy to look, it must have extended a good three inches from its last spot. There was a strong scent down here similar to old shoe leather he hadn't noticed before. Climbing up onto his forearms seemed like a herculean task but when it was done he could see down the length of his body.

There was something terribly wrong with Zeak's legs. That they were ill fitted inside his pant leg was not the big concern he had, no what concerned him was the angle at which his shin was facing. His feet clung uncomfortably within his shoes which were pulled up a couple inches into his trousers. Awkwardly he shifted forward and noticed the looseness of his button down which felt foreign against his pectoral muscles. Pulling one pant leg up and then the other exposed a pair of digitigrade ankles and more dark grey fur. Zeak would have screamed but was shocked into silence.

The sounds of bustling industry were coming from the door just behind Zeak. The hot flashes were subsiding, and rational thought still did not seem to return. "A bad dream... maybe?" he asked no one in particular. Wish shacking hands Zeak scrambled forward and used his desk to brace himself to stand. He could feel the strength in his legs and was reminded of trying to stand in high heels back in his youth. Looking around the office everything felt off, bigger somehow. Struggling across the desk towards his phone was interrupted when his rump swished across his chair. The new sensation startled him and a moment later he was twisted back to look at his rump best he could. There jutting from above his loose belt was a three-foot-long twitching cylinder of fluff. "Oh.. oh of course."

There was no mirror in Zeak's small office but there was no denying the very physical reality he was facing. Zeak had been stunted down to five foot nothing black furred creature. He felt over his frame now that he'd regained a sense of balance, but there was simply nothing left of him. He pulled the loose shirt forward and looked at what had become of his frame. Perky grey breasts were framing pert black nipples. Apprehension bristled the fur along his neck as his hands moved down to the loose belt and undid the mess. Zeak had shapely hips and a smooth cleft of a pubic mound nestled between his thighs. Only the very tip of obsidian flesh where his clitoral hood crested the mound was apparent at this angle.

A heavy weight of confusion settled on Zeak which bent him to the chair behind him. The clock on his desk read half past noon. No one had come in to check on him for hours, and now what would he tell them? Dryly he licked the lips of his muzzle and tried to form the words "Oh shit.", but it wasn't intelligible or in his typical range. With some difficulty the grey fox made his way to the door and peeked through the gap he made when opening it. Two people were typing away just across from his office, Thomas and Rachel respectively. They seemed busy enough to pass unnoticed.

Zeak wrapped his delicate fingers more firmly around the knob and pushed the door open. He got about five steps towards the hall when Vince from accounting came around the corner. The studious accountant took two steps forward before stumbling mid stride. "What the Hell is That?!" He shouted with emphasis which drove the attention of everyone in the room to Zeak. So in a panic Zeak brought his hand up in front of his eyes and muzzle while running as best he could with the unfamiliar limbs. Vince nearly hit the wall jumping out of the way as Zeak charged past.

The lobby had a couple more people greeting Samantha at the reception desk, but Zeak didn't have time for that. He charged past them as well tail wedged between his legs and a strain across his scalp which felt like... ears pointing back and down! Samantha stood up in surprise, but she didn't recognize him, how could she? Zeak ran hard for the Nissan with every fiber of his being straining to flee. Inside the car nothing was in the right spot. He'd lost seven inches of height and a good few inches of arm span. "Guh! Guh! Go!" He growled out in an unusually high-pitched babble. The engine roared to life with the turn of his key. He was forced to make adjustments to the mirrors as he drove out of the parking lot and onto the main roads which had cleared since the earlier rush hour.

With a deep and growing fear Zeak drove away, looking back as his office slipped away in the distance. Now that he'd made it this far a question began to fill Zeak's mind. Where in the world should he go?