FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

It was an accident, really. Gerald hadn't even noticed he was walking in the wrong door and entering the shop beside the bakery on the way to his morning bun and coffee. That is, he didn't notice until his hip connected with something and knocked it over with a crash. A coat stand covered with intricate, expensive looking coats smashed to the ground with a very final sounding smash.

He was grabbed at once. "I'm so sorry!" he cried at the woman dragging him along with a determined, steely look on her face. "I-I can pay, if you'd like."

She tutted. "That simply won't do; you'll still be going all over the place like a buffoon, knocking things over. Thing of all the damage you'll cause others! I'll have to fix you up first." A smile twisted her face. "Besides, I need practice."

Gerald broke out into a cold sweat as she pulled him through her dusty old clothes shop into a backroom that looked like it had been repurposed to act as a fitting room; the mirror looked hastily slapped on the dingy walls, the light glared oddly off the cold concrete floor, and there were dodgy looking boxes in the corners. In short, it looked like the sort of place that could also be used for black market kidney theft. He noticed a weird, dark stain on the floor and retched. But he couldn't escape the woman's grip; she was strong.

She pulled a chair from some unseen shadow. "Now why don't you sit down, love? My work will be much easier if you do." His legs buckled from fear and he sat.

Rough rope dug into his chest. "Why are you doing this?" He asked, brain running at a thousand miles an hour; he needed to escape before she tied him up entirely- and she was doing so at an impressive rate. There was no way he was her first victim.

She stopped for a moment, grinning at the sweet taste of his terror. "Because I can, darling!" A twisted laugh echoed through the room.

Now or never. He yanked his arms out of their incomplete binding, hands reaching at once for the knots and fumbling with it. The woman continued laughing, voice turning high and bitter. Gerald opted to ignore it and focus on sweet, sweet escape, which was so close now he could taste it-

Her ice chilly hands smushed into his cheeks, squishing them long enough that it became painful. A strange, jelly-like sensation spread through them, a numb warmth following. His hands faltered to a halt before he started ripping out the last knot. Giving the woman a chance to strike.

The numb, warm feeling rose in his hands as she stroked them, pulling them away from the knots. "Oh dear," she said in a voice with actual disappointment in it. "I had been hoping to give you proper hands until now. Guess we'll just have to make do."

In her hands, his swelled like a balloon, doughy and stiff fingers struggling to curl into a fist, let alone untie a knot. The flesh of his palms and fingertips surged forwards, darkening to a deep black as the rest of his skin began itching. His breath stopped when he saw the source of the itching; a grey-white stubble that soon sprung thickly enough to be a coat of fur tinged yellow with a few deep black spots on his digits. Paws that were heavy and useless for everything, marking him as touched by this woman forever for all to see; they were far too big to be hidden in pockets or sleeves, for they were almost twice the size of his hands, and any person with eyes could see their misshapen shape even if they were in gloves.

A whine of terror in Gerald's throat eventually resolved itself into speech. "W-what are you?" He asked, his cheeks flapping around weirdly with his words. They too had swelled outwards and been coated with warm grey spotted fur.

"You can call me Violet," the woman said as she caressed his paws with a grin on his face. "My, aren't they cute! I doubt you'll run away with those- you're my little pet now, they'd know to return you."

It wasn't just Violet pointing out how inhuman he was already that made Gerald glue himself to his seat as she began running her hands around his ears. Weakness seeped into every bit of his being, telling him to sit and accept his fate. After all, what was there to gain by trying to run away? If he hadn't tried in the first place, he may have still had hands instead of useless paws. And besides, didn't it feel a bit good to be docile? Her hands at his ears as they became puffy, ridiculous things felt good. A soft rumble began in his throat before he quelled it at the feeling of his too warm ears stretching into smooth discs at the top of his head, tufts of fur growing out of them until they were toasty warm.

His eyes were half closed now. "Good boy," Violet said.

Her voice spurred the last combative part of himself. "I'm not a boy," he snarled, which wasn't what he had wanted to say; he'd wanted to say something cleverer, something to piss her off. But his lips felt rubbery and his brain couldn't string together any more words. "My name is Gerald." His head began aching. Why was it so hard to talk?

Violet scowled. "Hmmmm, now that you've mentioned that, I think I should change it! After all, I think you'd be happier, wouldn't you now?"

Tears burned his eyes- until she poked his eyelids and he felt those tears dissolve, eyes feeling different in a way Gerald couldn't put his hands on. "What..."

With giggles in his ears, he was turned around, towards the mirror. What he saw made him pull his elongated ears back.

He could barely recognise his face in the mirror; his cheeks were puffy and hairy, his ears like that of some big cat- snow leopard, he realised, taking in the patterns and colour of the fur he was growing, his massive cumbersome paws poking around in horror at his changed face. Worst of all, his eyes showed none of those emotions. They were a dull grey green rimmed by black lids, forcing them into a vague happy expression, his black pupils wide. Looking at the vapid happiness in those eyes made him feel it as a gaping wound inside his soul, ready to swallow him whole and make it so that those eyes fit what was going on inside of him forever. Gerald slumped helplessly in his seat. There was nothing he could do to save himself from that fate, no matter how hard nausea was roiling in his guts now.

Violet stepped back in then, groping at his chest. Her long nails clawing through t-shirt and into his pecs hurt, the rigid flesh unyielding to her attentions. "Now, now, Gigi, some patience would be nice," she said when she noticed his discomfort. Gerald tensed; what had she just called him? Her nails clawed in even deeper until tears would've built in his eyes if they hadn't been transformed. A deep look of concentration filled her face until something in his chest gave.

New flesh responded to her attentions, and as she continued grinding his chest, the sensation of more being there intensified, like his palms had felt when they swelled into big, thick paw pads. His chest was thick now, bulging outwards into two small domes stretching the fabric of his t-shirt to its limits.

He yearned for the growth to stop and for his chest to shrink back down again. He wished his paws would loosen into useful hands, that his cheeks would slim down and not flap around wildly. And at the same time, part of him gloried in the transformation. Violet would be happy when he had fat tits ready for groping, and she'd love his useless paws that meant she would have to do everything for him.

"What?" Gerald whispered to himself, blushing at the swelling sensation in his chest, which gathered in his nipples and made him writhe against his will. He didn't want this, he didn't want it in the slightest. He craned his neck to look in the mirror and looked at his eyes, and filled with fear about what was taking him.

Violet rubbed his chest with greater intensity. "You can feel it, can't you Gigi? Not long now!"

His eyes rolled into his head, hips arching to ride the wave of the orgasm, cock standing up and spurting fluid. RIP. His tits bounced free from his ruined t-shirt, fat and fluffy and too big to grope with his paws. A little grin started on his face, but there was one problem. What was his name, again?

"Do you like that, Gigi?" Oh. Yes. Gigi. Gigi couldn't even be angry at Violet like a large part of him still was, even though it was her fault that he'd forgotten his name after that orgasm (and he suspected he would forget it again).

Violet smirked, smile wider than a human smile should ever be. Her hand raked down his belly, fluff blazing from where her touch was. Gigi moaned, feeling dizzy, tingling arousal as sensitive nubs sprung up, too. Her new nipples bloated, little tits pushing them out of her belly fluff. She couldn't help but rub her useless paws became good for something; belly rubs. "Hardly a male now, are you? Just one more thing..."

Gigi's purrs hesitated, Violet's hands wrapping around a weird stick growing between her thighs. It felt good when she rubbed it, making it retract; she bit her lip, sharp teeth almost drawing blood from the rubbery black bands.

It turned into a flat dent, then a thick hole. Violet's fingers filled up the cat's new, puffy pussy in a way her thick paws never would, rubbing and teasing every sensitive spot of her cunt. Gigi yowled, swishing a new tail around and cumming, sticky fluids spraying from her vagina. She was totally limp and helpless, toes stretching out as they forced their way out of their shoes and grew thick pads growing on each toe. Her rump widened and released her from her already strained trousers, leaving a totally naked, betitted snow leopard lady shuddering and groaning in her chair.

Gigi's mind was very cloudy, but it didn't matter. It was supposed to be, because that was what Violet wanted, and nothing else mattered. Memories faded as her snout stretched out into an absent, jovial smile that matched her eyes. She purred and chuffed her pleasure, though she could no longer talk, because a fucktoy didn't need speech.

"There you go," Violet said, letting her free from her ties. Gigi stumbled out of her chair on two feet that were much more graceful than her stupid face would have suggested. "You're skinny; I think we could breed you later." She mewled in agreement; breeding sounded very good!"

A black collar clicked around her neck, the lead Violet held in her hands, dragging her along. They were going out; memories of a party with many other slutty creatures like her dragged around by their masters filled her mind. Yes, this was going to be a good time, one that made her slaver with anticipation- she couldn't wait to be used. Gigi walked eagerly after her master, and in a flash, the changing room was left empty.