FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

"Nervous?" Becca smiled and squeezed Rick's hand.

Rick shook his head and kissed her. "Not a single bit, honey..." He glanced around at the crumbling buildings surrounding them. "Does look bit dodge around here, though."

"It sure does!" Becca kissed him again. "Don't worry, I've never had any problems around here- I swear this is worth it!"

Rick didn't worry after that; they'd only been dating for about a month, but he trusted Becca, who seemed to know all the best obscure places in town to go. She was some sort of event organiser and could get into all of them, too. The rusting metal door with a single flickering blue rabbit silhouette caused him no concerns, even when they were let in by a bulky, angry looking man who ogled the pair of them.

His first impression of the bar was blue; everything was blue, including the flashing dancefloor where dozens of people danced, and the rails of the stairs leading to the bar, and the flashing logo... The second impression he got was of the sheer amount of people in strange animal costumes, and the scent of wet dog and beer permeating the air.

"Is it some sort of event?" he asked, milling at the door.

Becca smiled. "Guess so! Will we get a drink?"

"Su-" She yanked Rick up the stairs; he almost slipped on them, because someone had spilled their drink earlier. A small amount of people sat around talking and drinking, none of them in the animal costumes.

That didn't put him at ease. They all had a vibe that screamed money to him; fancy, flawless clothes and expensive looking drinks, fancy watches and jewelery. A woman looked up at them, pushing around her bouncing curls. The look in her eyes was akin to a lion hunting a gazelle, her partner smirking at him. "Is this place exclusive?"

"Not really," Becca said, guiding him away from the couple with steely hands. Rick felt their eyes burning on him. And the eyes of the group sitting beside him. And the eyes of the people around the bar; he half thought he had a glowing beacon on his head, the way they stared at him.

"Are you sure? Everyone's staring," he whispered.

Becca frowned. "It's fine, dear. Now won't you have a drink?"

"I..." The bartender slouched towards him. He was wearing a dog mask, features stiff in the bright blue lights. He didn't speak, the eerily realistic eyes of the mask devoid of human light. "I don't like this, Beccs."

"Order," the bartender grunted, the flews of his mask fluttering around as he shook his head.

Shooting him a look, Becca ordered some cocktails he'd never heard of, the bartender promptly complying. It was at that moment that he felt the warm breath on his neck.

"Who are you?" Rick asked, his tempers already frayed by everything else going on. The man drew away, eyes eerie teal in the light. He was muscular but rather short, fancy tie slightly askew, as if he'd just got out of a meeting. The stiff face looking out at him looked like it had got rather a lot of work so he could look a few years younger. His smell was akin enough to fresh money bills Rick swore he had to be using a weird cologne.

The man took a seat. "Sterling's my name." He offered no apology for his mouth breathing ways.

"Okay," Rick snapped. But to his shock, Becca was smiling at Sterling, and he was smiling, too.

"Long day at the office?" she asked.

"Indeed," he grunted. His eyes slid to Rick.

Becca put her hand on his. "He's with me," she said.

Instead of putting Sterling off, he came to life, eyes flashing with an emotion Rick couldn't read. "Really, huh? You found a nice girl, real nice." His massive smirk undercut his words; he felt an overwhelming desire to slap it off his face.

"Drinks." The bartender's lip- no, it was a mask, of course. Rick didn't look at the dog masked man, not wanting to see more things. Becca and Sterling were quite bad enough already.

Becca raised her eyebrows at him, sipping her martini. "Drink up, dear!"

He wouldn't get anything from causing a scene. Maybe his suspicions about her and Sterling were right, and he'd wasted a month. Maybe if he acted now, he'd wreck something good. Rick drank and swore it would be his last one, just in case he needed a clear head. Also puking in an Uber on the way home if it came to that would not be a good look.

Sterling watched him intently. "It's time now, is it not?" He asked Becca. His tone chilled Rick's bone.

What made him get up and walk away was Becca's eyes. An expression unlike any he'd ever seen on her face before pierced his very soul, her smile the sort of smile a serial killer would wear while burying a body in the woods. "Of course, Mr Peake." She clicked her fingers; Rick rushed away, down the stairs-

And slipped. Steely arms grabbed him, rumbling growls reverberating in his bones. He batted around and grabbed fur. The dog headed bartender bared his teeth and dragged him with the whole club watching, including the animal people.

They were real. Oh God, they were real; their faces too realistic, the way they moved, their everything. Most of them didn't seem to care, eyes strangely empty, gripping collars choking their throats. However, their owners watched in dead silence. And so did Becca.

"What is this?" he squealed at her.

She shrugged. "My job; I find people, I bring them here. Other people in my team make sure the world thinks it's an accident, and then I find some more."

He'd only known her for a month. His eyes still filled with tears. "You never cared about me?" he asked.

"No. And if you don't mind, I have places to be." Rick shouted for her, cursed her, begged for her. She didn't turn back.

Sterling pinched his cheek as the bartender lurched forward, pulling him to a door he hadn't noticed beside the bar. "She brought you here for me," he said in a breathy voice, tracing the contours of Rick's face. "You're a perfect specimen."

He would've slapped the smile off of Sterling's face if he could. "I'll chop my dick off before I do anything for you."

"And I'll enjoy watching you struggle. You know, it won't last for long. Consider this a... reprogramming. I've seen it all go down before." He cocked his head. "But because you asked, I don't think I'll be answering questions! The surprised ones are the best ones." He smiled, lips waxy and teeth far too white. The dog bartender's hand clamped over Rick's mouth as they walked through a dark hall.

The room they came into was shadowed, pale blueish light revealing a centre area surrounded by what looked like double-sided glass. You could walk a quick pace around it, it was about two lengths of his body of width, devoid of features except for the door he'd entered from and another door. Wriggling as he was dumped from the dog bartender's grasp, he tried to reach out for the next door that Sterling disappeared through-

He was left alone, in darkness. People would be watching, but Rick didn't care; he huddled up into a fetal position and cussed. He should've known when Becca suggested they have a phone free evening. Everything moved too fast, she had tricked him. And now it was too late; no-one would notice he was gone until tomorrow, and that would be far too late for him. All he could do now was...

All he could do was scratch himself, because the hair on his hands felt coarser than it had a minute ago. Was it drugs? Was Sterling paying to watch him become shitfaced and then do shit to him? The lights brightened, flooding his eyes with burning (still blue tinged) light. When he could finally see again, what met his eyes froze his blood.

Each of his hands had pale fur sprouting on top of them like a gentle dusting of snow. It was soft, like a baby blanket. Before now he'd only had a single grey hair, and that was all black. Not this strange growth on his hands.

"Let me out!" Rick shrieked, cutting himself off after a moment because, of course, that's what Sterling and the sick fucks running the show wanted. This place looked soundproofed. He needed another way, another plan. For the moment, he stared at his changing hands.

It wasn't only puffy fluff on his hands now; it was a swelling of the skin itself, which felt sensitive enough to make him gasp. He wriggled his thick digits and gawked at his lengthening nails, which protruded from the hair engulfing his fingertips. They didn't move very well; he cupped a button on his jacket and couldn't move it out of its slit.

"God," he said in a trembling voice. The animal people. He was becoming one of them.

He could no longer think, could hardly breathe. The air in his chest grew stale and his ribcage ached in protest. "I don't want this, I don't want this," he gibbered to no-one; he was beyond help. His words would only bring him false, arbitrary comfort. It was not a comfort that would slow than his changes.

Rick's eyes moved, the centre of his face bulging outwards as they slid to the sides. His fuzzy paws clung onto his grotesquely warped face, his eyes turning a deep shade of black as his pupils engulfed the colour of his eyes. If he could see himself in a mirror, his dry sobs that could no longer be accompanied by tears would've intensified; they were eyes that held none of his heart or soul.

"No, no, no," he whispered, soft brown fur growing around his transformed eye sockets, while a splash of white flowed over the ridge of his nose and head, which slowly melted into one chunk of flesh. His nose twitched, twitched, twitched, flattening into a pair of cute little pink slits.

A yanking, tugging sensation started in his mouth. "Nuggghhhh..." Rick's mouth twisted around in the hard grasp of his change, the centre of his lips pointed upwards towards his nose, a delicate pink tongue lashing the new cleft. Squeaks and grunts of distress emanated from the buck-toothed mouth, from which another word would never come again.

However, it wasn't only his mouth changing. Squealing in a warped voice, a disturbing mesh between lapine and human, Rick arched, fluffy brown fur growing over his exposed ass. "Eeeeee!" His paws couldn't yank things back up and his shirt fell over his head too, leaving his quivering ass revealed to his invisible watchers and his fuzzy chest. His trembles made it jiggle while fur sprouted on it, intensifying as it slowly broadened with new flesh.

But at that moment, he only felt the bulge growing at the base of his spine between his buttocks, pain and something else at the same time. Something that made his exposed cock twitch upwards, the growth of nerves in the massive, hairy lump crossing in bizarre ways with the rest of his body.

Rick's tail twitched over his swollen buttocks, increasing its frantic movements as he tried to stand upright and push his dick back down. Unfortunately for him, it was to no avail, for it soon stood tall and proud around his fuzzy thighs and softening belly, which his paws sunk into as he tried to shift it out of the way. Squeaks of distress peppered the air.

Unfortunately, his efforts couldn't sustain themselves before he fell headfirst onto the ground, knocking his expanding snout. A cushion of fat burst into big lumps on his chest, both soon covered with soft, fluffy fur.

However, they weren't the only ones growing. Trying to manoeuvre his fat, fluffy body up, Rick noticed that not only did he have a pair of massive tits cushioning his fall, he could feel more lumps growing beneath them. And another set, and another...

By the time he heaved himself up, his whole belly and chest jiggled with bosoms, thick pink nipples that were uncomfortably stiff, aching to be touched. He made an oddly human whimpering noise and groped at his cock, which was already retracting inside of him.

His distressed running around the room became comical as his dick and balls continued fading beneath a thick layer of fluff; in his panicked mindset, he didn't notice the way his thick calves began shrunk, feet stretching up into tip toes while the digits grew into puffy, fluffy paws. Hopping about, for it was the only way he could walk, all he saw was the loose skin buried under his fur and retracting further, and his rock hard cock becoming scarcely more than a ridge and miniscule hole against his cock.

Rick stopped, whiskers twitching. He could hardly walk properly anymore; at last he took in his hoppy legs, and a mangled shriek of distress left his throat. A soft blanket of fat bounced on his thighs and ass, fully covering the place where he'd once had a cock.

No-one could recognise him now. His tits and smooth crotch, his fur and rabbit head- none of those were him. His family and friends would always wonder what became of him, and he doubted even law enforcement somehow finding this place would be enough. A sickly suspicion tugging at his heart whispered that surely his DNA must be completely different, too. The man he had once been was dead, and he wanted to scream.

Sensing his sadness at his changes, a small dent began around his urethra, sinking it into thick lips, another set of ruby red ones flapping around it. He instinctively rubbed his legs together when a swollen clit popped up in front of it; he didn't dare peek at it, knowing seeing something that felt so much like his cock but very much wasn't, it would send him mad from despair. All he could do now was survive. Maybe. He wondered if it was even worth it, pain and pleasure he didn't want running up his spine and nipples, strange cramps in his lower stomach accompanying another dent opening in his lower end. The fresh cunt began dripping, the smell infuriating to his lapine nose.

No, no, no, was all he could think. He looked at himself, taking in his fluffy, fat limbs that were covered with soft tawny, turning white on his paws and feet. He looked like something out of a bizarre hentai; worse than the creatures on the dance floor. What did they want from him?

The door opened. Rick's vision flashed red, fists curling into a ball- Sterling pushed him out of the way easily, his furred limbs worthless though Sterling's were scrawny with no muscle he could see. "She's good; you need to take care of her needs before she'll properly submit. Do you have a name for her?" He struggled in his arms as a shadowy figure handed a hot pink thing emblazoned with hearts.

"Slut." Sterling pushed him to the floor with his hands around his throat until he went limp. The pink object slipped around his neck, painfully tight against the fluff. It clicked in one terrible, final noise, a bright red heart digging into both sides of his neck. "There you go Slut; come with me."

The fight went out of him like a balloon deflated. Rick wanted to punch and bite and kick until hopefully Sterling gave up or he was killed, and yet... He followed him towards a bed rising from the floor of the once featureless room. It looked fluffy and nice, he thought midst a torrent of horrifying images in his mind. His paws clawed at the ground. Ever since he'd seen the tits in the back of his mind since things went wrong, he'd known what the purpose of his change likely was. That didn't mean he was giving up even more of his body than he wanted.

Rick was surprised when he wasn't pulled into the bed. A sadistic smile twisted Sterling's face instead. "Come on, Slut. To bed with you."

A deep ache tightened up the muscles in his body in resistance to a shocking force. Part of him wanted nothing more than to be soft and simpering, saunter into the bed and let Sterling have his way with her- him- and like it. Somehow, the collar was instilling the desire to obey inside of him.

Sterling groaned and grabbed him by the collar, the shock of the motion making him comply; how had she been resisting a moment before? He, Rick reminded himself. He was a man, no matter what his body told him.

It wasn't easy to ignore what his body was telling him, though, not with Sterling's skin against her fur or the intoxicating musk of his arousal on her nose. She saw it as a cloud of sorts, one that made her brain feel slow. Far away. Except for the things he was whispering into his ears, or the gleam of his cock. "I would've liked a blowjob first... but I'll have to sort you out first. Won't I Slut?"

Slut. It was an insult. It was too important to her mind than it should've been. It had an electric draw to it, a verbal chain shackling her very soul. "Flip over." She hesitated until his hands guided her onto her belly, tits grinding against the sheets in a way that made her desire to turn over again impossible; the chain of thoughts she needed to translate into motion wouldn't join together.

Rick bit her lips. Sterling ran his hands over her thick fur and squishy curves. His breath turned ragged.

Warm fluid flowed down her neck and back, blood rushing into her ears as he came all over over for the first time, marking her with his sticky cum. She made a small noise of protest that Sterling swatted her for. "Stop whining, Slut." He waited a moment, slapping her on the ass. She shook and didn't dare look up for fear of what was coming-

His dick plunged between her ample buttocks. "Going to breed you, bitch." He gasped in her pinned back ears, massive balls whacking against her hole.

Slut grabbed the sheets and took it like a good bunny should- no, Rick grabbed the sheets. She- him. He. She. Between Sterling's thrusts, he couldn't put together what she should be, only that her mind was going.

Where did I live? A smudge of generic houses was the only thing she could recall. Her parents and friends? A distressed wail of pain echoed through the air, for she could remember nothing of their faces, only a vague sensation that somewhere there were people who would ache for her, and she could hardly remember them.

Becca. She hated her. She wanted her. Becca was all that she could remember and the only thing Rick could feel angry about. The dick in her cunt felt good. Being tamed and squirming with little pleasured grunts was just what she wanted, and Sterling wanted.

A powerful feeling burst through her, and those thoughts were no more; she was only the orgasm, only a container for Sterling's cum as it pulsed into her empty womb. When he stopped, she couldn't remember what had been worrying her. "Was that nice Slut?" The nice man asked as he stroked her sticky, marked fur.

Nice. Yes, that was nice. But she didn't like that name. She couldn't remember her name, but she knew she had a different one and didn't like being called Slut. He smiled and scratched her behind the ears.

Wow! She loved it, toes wriggling all about in joy. His scratches got rid of all her worries (not that she had been worrying), and made her feel like a fluffy, empty-brained cloud. Which she was. Not a cloud though, she wasn't that stupid; she was a bunny!

Her stomach gurgled. "You liked that cum, didn't you Slut? You're getting full already," Sterling (yes, that was her master's name), said with a happy, kind smile.

She sat with his hands on her belly as it bloated out, growing hard. Little kicks thumped inside of her; she was pregnant. "I've bred you real good, haven't I? You really enjoyed it too," Sterling whispered in her ears. "What a good Slut."

Slut nuzzled him and squeaked in joy at her big, fat belly. Her master was so good at breeding her, and she loved that about him! What a lucky pet she was. She got up unsteadily, silly and wobbly on her stupid bouncy paws and sloshing full of babies and cum.

Her tits were swelling too, full of milk. If she was lucky, would Sterling milk it out later? She would have to see, because Slut was obedient.

Besides, he had other plans. He reached into a wardrobe that popped out of the floor on his command and pulled out a nice red dress. "Let's go Slut; we have people to meet." After he pulled it over her head, Slut hopped after him, eager to serve her master in any way she could.