FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

--1-- Fading moonlight filtered into the only apartment with its lights still on. A town as small as this had nothing going on at four in the morning, but Emmett, Red and Verne were comfortably existing and just vibing together. Cricket chirps reached faintly through the second story window, but the rattle of the air conditioner drowned most of that out. The living room was cozy but its furniture was, like a favorite shirt, well worn. The chaise had holes and stains, the coffee table had scratches and dents, and the bookshelf was sagging under the weight of books. The newest furniture was the computer desk, but even that was a few years old. Flaking wood finish and peeling paint finished the homely, yet neglected vibe. This didn't bother the three friends any. They had made it their own, with posters, photos, and knickknacks. They felt comfortable and safe there, even if it wasn't the nicest place in town. Besides that, Emmett was couch surfing and had been for the last few months: he didn't have any room to complain about the state of the place. Each had their favorite place and were all relaxing there, comfortable in the silence and presence of the others. Red sat at his computer chair beneath the air conditioner, leaning in as he concentrated on his games. The maned wolf had colorful, well-kept fur, as well as an assortment of piercings. While he was mainly fiery orange and yellow, he had many black patches, as well as a red chest and belly. He wore his trademark sleeveless sweater and a pair of lax fit jeans. Verne, meanwhile, curled up on a worn chair next to an antique lamp and bookshelf. The black and purple patterned wolf was nose-deep in a thick tome, occasionally adjusting his glasses or turning a page. He wore a comfortable sweater and brown khakis, and had a mug of tea on a small table beside him. He liked to read late into the night, especially on cool spring nights like these. He really should sleep for his shift in the morning, but how was he supposed to do that when Livy made The History of Rome so engrossing? On the other side of the room, Emmett sprawled on the chaise that served as his bed. The pink dingo had one floppy ear with a heart-shaped birthmark on it, and a mischievous grin on his face. He was scrolling through his phone, looking for something to amuse himself. He had been crashing on Verne and Red's couch for a few months now, after he dropped out of college last semester. He didn't have a job or any plans for the future, but he didn't mind. He enjoyed living in the moment, and taking advantage of his friends' generosity. On that note... "Hey guys, I just wanted to say thanks again." Emmett said, breaking the comfortable silence. "It's been hard getting back on my feet, and you guys are wonderful. Especially you Verne -- I know you've been taking up extra shifts at the bookstore. You're a hard worker, and one day it'll pay off." There, that should buy him at least another month without having to find a job. Red was pretty casual about the whole thing, but Verne was getting pretty stressed about the way Emmett failed to contribute to the group. Luckily for him, the wolf was very susceptible to compliments about his work ethic. "O-Oh, um... well, thank you!" Verne's flustered response told Emmett he'd successfully sucked up to him. "I, uh... well I know it can be hard, especially the way your parents kicked you out. Familial abandonment can be difficult on a person." Emmett looked away and sighed, though he hid a grin from his friends."I can't believe they kicked me out because I'm gay. Those fucking homophobes don't deserve me. I really thought that they were better people than that... but I guess you never know who will trash you when you become inconvenient." Emmett sighed again and looked into the distance for a moment before going back to his phone. Verne and Red shared a glance. They believed his story, but they also knew there was probably more to it than just his sexuality. Red paused his game and set down his headset. "Listen dude, they'll come around," he said. "And once they do you can probably ask for an allowance or something, right? Your folks are loaded. You can get your own place, kick back!" "Or you could stay here and contribute to the rent," Verne added. "That solution keeps you away from your hateful parents, and makes things a little easier on us." Emmett gave them a grateful smile. "You guys are the best. I'm sure you're both right. If I get an allowance, I'll contribute to rent, I promise." That oughta buy him another month in Verne's good graces. The three settled back down into their respective activities, and the apartment was comfortably silent again. Emmett scrolled through Instagram, but mostly let his mind wander. It had been a pretty good few months since he dropped out of college. He and Red met when they were assigned to the same orientation group, and had ended up forming a pretty close bond. When Red decided college wasn't for him, Emmett figured school would be too boring without him and decided to follow in his footsteps a year later. He'd planned on just living with his parents, but that was no longer an option. He was already on thin ice when they discovered he was gay, but when he dropped out of the college they'd paid out the nose for, that was the last straw. He was lucky Red could convince Verne to let him crash there for a while, because he sure as hell wasn't getting a job. Red did pretty well with his job packaging carrots or eggs or some shit at a warehouse - and it kept him delightfully ripped - but Emmett didn't think he was cut out for work. He'd just have to convince Verne he was worth keeping around, and he'd be golden for a while. As he scrolled, a picture caught his eye. It was Sebastian and Gerome, one of Verne and Red's friends. And his by unwilling association. They'd done one of those couple accounts together, which was sickening enough, but this was even worse. It was a filter heavy picture of the two kissing over a basket of colored eggs, with the caption: "I don't need to search for my Easter presents this year - I have you! Can't wait for our date sweetheart. ~Gerome". God, that's so sweet Emmett wanted to barf. But it did remind him of something important... "So, what are you guys doing for Easter?" Emmett asked casually, breaking the silence once again. Verne looked up from his book and frowned. "Easter? That's next week, right?" Red nodded, pausing his game. "Yeah, it is. I'm going to visit my family. They always have a big barbecue and an egg hunt for the kids." "That sounds nice," Emmett said, feigning interest. "What about you, Verne?" Verne sighed and closed his book. "I'm going to my parents' house too. They're very religious, so they always make a big deal out of Easter. They have a church service, a brunch at the cafe in town, and then a lot of lectures about how I should get married and have children." Emmett chuckled. "Wow, that sounds fun." Verne rolled his eyes. "Not really. But I love them anyway." Emmett sensed an opportunity. He put on a sad expression and said, "You know, I don't have anyone to spend Easter with." "Hey, man," Red said sympathetically. "That sucks." Verne nodded. "Yeah, it does." They both hesitated to invite him to their own events. Both considered Emmett a friend, but both were very aware of how selfish he could be sometimes. Introducing him to people was an exercise in exhaustion and fraught with danger. Despite that, they felt a certain guilt for leaving them alone. The silence stretched on just a moment too long. Finally, Red yawned and stretched at his desk. "Hey man, it's kinda late. I gotta be up for work pretty early, I'm gonna crash. Verne, don't forget the food tomorrow?" Verne nodded, then took the chance as well. "Same here. I've got another late night shift tomorrow, they have me closing alone again. You'd think a bookstore didn't need to be open too late, but I can't begrudge the extra money... at least I get out early enough to pop by my uncle's store. Emmett, do you want to hang out during my shift? I could show you how to job search, maybe let you use the computer." Emmett hid a frown with a yawn, buying himself time to think. He really, really didn't want to hang with Verne in a boring bookstore all day, but he also knew turning him down might tarnish whatever extra time he'd earned in Verne's good graces. Verne likely invited him more to keep him out of trouble rather than help him look for a job, but if he said no, it would seem like he was shirking his duties to finally get a job. "Sure!" he said finally. "You know I love hanging with you. I was gonna start the job hunt next week, but I'd love for you to show me some tricks. You're a pro at that stuff." Verne cracked a smile and shut his book. "It's decided then! I'll wake you up about half an hour before I head out. I'll head to bed now. Sleep well, Emmett!" The friends said their goodnights. Red and Verne both retreated to their room, leaving Emmett on the chaise lounge in the dark, alone again. Without his friends there, Emmett finally relaxed. No need to mask, no need to fake anything. He could just be his authentic self. The pink-furred dingo pulled out his hefty cock, scrolled up on Instagram, and shamelessly pleasured himself to Red's latest selfie. His mind swam with the nastiest things he could think of: one day, he'd convince Red to let him do it all. But for now, he had to enjoy his fantasies. --2-- Hanging with Verne was always an exercise in faking interest, and doubly so when he was stuck inside during that bookworm's late shifts. The book store was a comfortable place to be sure, but he wasn't the type of person to appreciate the tall, ornate shelves, the musk of books hanging heavy in the air, or the last golden rays of the day laying warm on the mahogany reading nook in the front of the store. Verne could have entertained himself all day on just the books alone, but Emmett didn't even bother picking one up until his phone died. Unfortunately for him, his phone died an hour into the nine hour shift, and he'd not remembered his charger. Verne, of course, was a weirdo who used Android phones instead of iPhones like everyone else, so he didn't have a normal charger to borrow. By the end of Verne's shift, Emmett had gone through all the magazines, thumbed through every best seller, knocked down two displays, gotten crumbs in several different books, and in general had become such a nuisance to Verne that the poor wolf was spending most of his time playing Emmett damage control rather than doing his duties... which visibly stressed him out. At the very least there were ten minutes till the end of his shift. There wasn't too much longer until he could close the store, stop by his uncle's grocery shop, and head on home. Ten long, awkward minutes. The two furs sat at a table near the back, making polite smalltalk. It was friendly, but it wasn't quite connecting: Emmett would start on a topic that Verne frankly had no knowledge of, but then Verne would go on about this book or that author, and that led nowhere, either. Conversations were a dance, and both of them had two left feet. Emmett and Verne both glanced at the clock. Nine more minutes. ` "Emmett, I'd... well, I'd like to show you something." Verne stood up and Emmett, getting the feeling he was being told a Very Personal Thing, followed the wolf to a row in the very, very back of the store. The lights here were mostly burnt out, and Emmett got the feeling it wasn't visited very often. A sign hung over the aisle: On Consignment. "This isn't really where we keep our best sellers," Verne said as he stepped to the back of the aisle and rooted around. "Everything back here is on consignment: books too small to get a real publisher, so the book store lets the authors keep their books here, and in return we get a cut of the profits. It's not as fancy or well supported as something backed by a publisher, but they're still all real, legitimate books... including this one." With a flourish and a proud grin, Verne pulled out a leatherbound book with gold leaf lettering on front: "Poems for Every Season". In smaller print, "by Verne Nicolaio". He ran his hand down the spine of it and almost shivered with excitement. "One real book, really, actually published and in an actual book store, written by yours truly. Here, take a look!" Emmett took the offered book and flipped through it. There were only about seventy pages, but at least it felt nice to hold... from what he could see of the poetry he was not impressed, but then, he wasn't really a poetry person. He also noted the text in the upper right hand of the first page: "First Edition: 1 of 1". "This is... wow." The dingo chose to shake his head in astonishment before offering Verne a grin in return. "You, a published author? I had no idea. Is this what you've been writing every shift you invite me here?" Verne took the book back and blushed, looking down at his feet and rocking a little. "Yeah... that's me. I'm officially a published author." He disappeared back into the aisle to put his pride and joy back in its place. "It's... well, it isn't much really," he admitted. "I self-published this a few years ago, just a text file online. It got four purchases, and the two reviews from those said my work is, um... middling. But a few months ago, I decided to pay a little extra money to get it professionally bound and printed, and I snuck it onto the shelves here. My boss knows about it and basically said he'd never take it out of this aisle, but he's fine with me having it here." The wolf stepped back out of the dark aisle and sighed. "I know it doesn't mean much, but having my poems in a real bookshop with a real price tag on it means I'm a real poet... even if no one is ever going to see it or buy it. It's... it's like a teaser, giving me a taste of how it feels to tide me over until I get published for real." Emmett kept his encouraging smile on while listening to Verne open up. It really was a stupid idea. Sneaking your book into a bookstore didn't make you a published author, or even a good poet. "That's great, Verne! Really it is. I think you'll get there in no time. Maybe you can find someone to edit your poems, give them a little shine and you'll take off." Verne raised an eyebrow. "Are you offering?" The two friends stared at each other before bursting out in giggles. "No!" Emmett laughed. "God no, I'm like, the worst person to ask to do that. Except maybe Red. Dude's great and all, but even I read more than he does." The chuckling died down, and Verne took a deep breath to calm himself. "You won't tell anyone, will you?" he asked. "I've only shown like, three people including you. This was kind of personal." Emmett crossed his heart and raised his right hand. "I promise, Scout's Honor. Your secret is safe with me, man." Verne considered telling Emmett that crossing his heart wasn't the sign for Scout's Honor, and that Emmett was never in the Scouts anyways, but before he could make a decision, the service bell out front rang, three angry dings in a row. "Jesus, we're closing in two minutes! What could possibly be so urgent you have to come into a book store two minutes before closing?" Verne groused, then shook his head. "I need to take care of this!" he said, looking back as he walked towards the front. "Don't get into any trouble while I'm gone, it'll be all of five minutes, I promise!" Emmett laughed at the joke... and as soon as Verne rounded the corner, glared after him. Was that a joke? Or was that a jab at him? It was hard to tell, because it really could be both... Emmett had fucked up a few things already, and he was infamous for trashing the house in minutes flat. Still, he could be trusted to be alone for literally five minutes! His pride steamed as he sat there. There was nothing to do but listen to Verne chat with the customer up front, but he really couldn't hear them well, and what he could hear sounded more boring than just sitting around. Five minutes... he could sit for five minutes. He wasn't that far gone that he needed constant stimulation. He was master of his own mind. There's no reason he couldn't sit for an hour doing nothing, if he chose to! It's just that he didn't choose to very often. Or ever. The dingo drummed his fingers on the table for a few moments... then leaned back in his chair. He could entertain himself, it didn't take that much effort. Heck, he was probably almost done, it had to have been at least five minutes, right? He glanced at the clock. It had been almost fifty seconds. Fuck. Okay, maybe sitting still for five minutes would be a bit harder than he thought. He could do it if he wanted to, of course. He just really didn't want to right now. What he wanted to do was... His gaze searched the area around him, looking for something, anything interesting to do. He'd read all the interesting magazines, there's no way he'd want to browse the Christian Fiction section, and why was there even enough maps for a Map section? Who wanted maps that badly? On Consignment. Emmett got up and faked a stretch as he looked behind him for Verne. There was no one in the door, and the conversation up front still seemed like it was going to take a while. Books were boring, he reasoned as he approached the aisle. But seeing unpublished books? Local authors? There was at least a little worth in seeing something most people never would, even if in the end they're still just boring paper and words. The dingo stepped over the chain and wandered down the dark aisle, dragging his fingers along the spines of the books. Most of them meant nothing to him, but there were a few he did recognize. Someone's local history book. Another person's memoirs, shoddily bound and, judging by the cover, handmade. A horror book, one that would probably never get a movie or even a television series. Each book unique, each one by a different author, perhaps only ever to be really seen and considered by him. It was still boring though. He was about ready to resign himself to languishing at the table for the next - he checked the clock - three minutes, when a strange green glow danced in the corner of his eyes. It was coming from a book by the wall, hidden away in the lowest shelf at the inner end of the aisle. Emmett approached it, squatting down to get a better look in the poorly lit room. It was incredibly thick, and the leather felt real... and it looked old. There were stress marks, discolorations, and even a few genuine cuts here and there. Was this another book Verne's boss accepted out of kindness, but shoved in the corner to forget about? Was it a special edition of some new series? They put a lot of work into making it look unique, if it was. Oddly though, there was no title on the spine. Something Verne had said to him long ago echoed in the back of his mind... misprints were rare and could be worth quite a bit. His heart quickened: was it a rare misprint? A first edition of an old, old book, mistakenly stuck in the wrong aisle? He could sell it and give a little money to Verne, keep him off his back for a while. Thoughts of how to smuggle the book out of the shop were already dancing in his head as he pulled the book off the shelf to get a look at the cover. As he did so, the green glow intensified, and Emmett felt a strange chill run down his spine. A presence grew somewhere in the far corners of his being, deep inside his core. It was distant at first, muddled, but the longer he held the book, the more the presence intensified. Every part of Emmett knew it was probably a terrible idea to keep holding the book. It was possessed, or maybe cursed... either way, no reason to get all mixed up in that sort of dangerous thing. Then again, he was bored out of his mind. Surely he would be stronger than whatever weird thing was stuck possessing something as stupid as a book. The dingo sat down and closed his eyes. "Whatever you are," he said, "you're allowed inside me. Let's talk." Emmett felt a surge of energy rush through his veins, starting in his fingertips and racing through the rest of his body in seconds. He leapt to his feet and looked around. Everything around him glowed green. No. It was him! His skin glowed as if radioactive. A commanding voice echoed through Emmett's skull. "Finally! Fate has seen fit to grant me a vessel at last, a partner with which to change the very fabric of this world! My dear dingo, tell me: what is your name?" For someone who had, until now, lived a rather boring, regular life, Emmett found it surprisingly easy to adjust to this insane reality. "Emmett," he finally answered. "And I am either insane, or you're some sort of weird spirit. Who or what are you?" "Emmett! A name I have never heard... perhaps I have been locked away for quite some time. You may call me Eros. The Greeks worshiped me as the god of love and desire. And my desire is to liberate all peoples from the shackles of decorum and let them experience true hedonism. Do not fret: I wish to free people, not shackle them to their desires." Hedonism... the spirit of hedonism. Emmett couldn't help but grin as he felt his loins twitch. "That is interesting... if you're so good, though, why were you locked away?" "A troublesome priest, some thousands of years ago, locked me in this book to prevent my corrupting influence from reaching the masses. Because of that small-minded fool, I no longer can influence the world directly... so I need someone to help me change things." Emmett's grin grew wider. "Of course, I'd love to help you! I'm very much a hedonist myself. What, um... what can you do, exactly?" Thoughts of messing with his friends filled his mind. Perhaps he could make Verne uncomfortably horny at a weird moment, or make Red feel the urge to overindulge in his drink and get so sloshed he wets himself... the concept of the literal spirit of Hedonism held much possibility, but if he was stuck in a book for thousands of years, his powers had to be limited. Eros perhaps felt Emmett's skepticism. "Do not underestimate me, mortal. I am weakened, but I am yet still a god! Once released from this book, my host shall have almost unlimited power over reality. The power to bend men to his will. To change their thoughts. Change their bodies even. You could even change the past to fit whatever free spirited future you desire!" Oh, fuck. The dingo's heart skipped a beat. "I, uh... I'm a free spirit. I'd love to aid you on your quest. How does this work? Do I, like, make sacrifices to you or something?" Emmett could feel the spirit's horror. "By creation, no! Had I been found a hundred years ago, I might have taken physical form once freed and we could have been as partners. As weakened as I am now, in order to affect the world... I must merge with a host. Potentially with you." "Merge?" said Emmett. "Kind of sounds like I'd lose myself." "For me," replied Eros, "yes. I will give up my identity and agency for the span of your life. My powers will be yours for your entire life, to pursue our cause in any way you wish. Then, when you eventually pass, I shall reform with my powers fully restored. It is a case in which we both win." Someone else might have hesitated, perhaps not trusted this random voice radiating from a weird old book, but not Emmett. He had always believed life owed him more power than he had, and this was a chance to take it for himself. "Eros, I accept! Pass into me, and I shall do your will." That sounded regal enough, right? "Then it is decided! But I must warn you, mortal: you will no longer have me here to guide you. I will be gone, and you will only have your will and morality to guide you. If you believe you are up to the task, open me up: I will enter into you immediately, and then all of reality is yours to shape." He could have all the power in the world, AND there would be no god inside his mind nagging him about it? Emmett grinned wolfishly. "Done." Before Eros could change his mind, Emmett cracked open the book and immediately felt another rush. While the last rush he felt was one of energy, this was one of real power, of influence over time and space itself. It filled him until he thought he might burst, then as quickly as it began, the last of Eros' powers slipped into him, and the world returned to normal. He no longer glowed, no longer felt different, no longer felt the power. He just felt like Emmett. The dingo felt himself up and down. Everything felt normal. Perhaps the change didn't take? Or maybe this whole thing was a weird hallucination, a symptom of his growing ego. Could that even be a problem? "Emmett!" Verne's bark made Emmett jump and swirl around, holding the book guiltily in his hands. Verne glared at him in annoyance. "You should know better than to just mess with the books here. A lot of this is really expensive and old. Unless you're going to buy it, put that down!" Emmett groaned and rolled his eyes. "Jesus Verne, relax! It's no big deal. Go up front and close up, I'll meet you up there, okay?" Immediately the tension left Verne's shoulders and his expression fell away, replaced with a small smile. "Yeah, you're right," he said as he walked off. "It's no big deal. I'll close up, you meet me there, alright?" The dingo gawped after his friend, unable to believe what he'd just seen. It wasn't out of the question for Emmett's snapping to make Verne backpedal so quickly, but that expression of his... it was the first time Verne really seemed relaxed in ages. The nerd was always anxious about something, and his furrowed brows and slight frown were more of a trademark for him than his black and purple markings. And here he just... relaxed completely? Emmett grinned, looking back down at the book in his hands. He at least had something of Eros' powers... it was time to see just how far they could go. --3-- The soft glow of the streetlights reflected off the glass windows, giving the front of the store a warm, cozy glow. Verne stood in the middle, sweeping with a smile on his face and humming idly. His tail even swished here and there, twitching in time with the tune in his head. Emmett stood in the shadow of a bookshelf, simply observing for a bit. He'd never seen Verne so relaxed... he almost seemed a different person. It was almost a shame what was about to happen. Almost. "Verne!" Emmett said as he stepped into the light. Verne looked up and grinned at his friend. "Hi Emmett! I knew you'd get up here eventually. I'm about done sweeping, do you mind finishing up?" The wolf would never dare to ask Emmett, or indeed anyone else, to do something that he considered his own job to do. Verne was far too uptight and duty-centric to do that. Emmett took the broom with a tilt of the head. "You don't mind me sweeping for you? You don't want to do it yourself?" Verne shrugged as he walked towards the door. "Couldn't hurt, right? You couldn't possibly mess anything up just by sweeping. What's the big deal?" He reached towards the lock. "Stop." Immediately Verne froze. He blinked once, then again, before letting his arm drop to his side. "Why am I... or, um. What's up? Something wrong with me locking the door?" Emmett let go of the broom and watched it clatter to the floor in front of Verne. Verne frowned and stared at the broom, but could not find it in himself to pick it up. "Time to see just how far this goes..." Emmett stretched and cracked his knuckles. "Alright, first thing's first: step in front of the window." Verne stepped in front of the window. Confusion spread over his face, fighting his newfound relaxed mindset. "Emmett? Why-" "Take out your cock." Immediately the wolf unzipped his pants and pulled out his sheath. He turned a deep red, glancing towards the window in a desperate hope no one was there. He was lucky that foot traffic tended to die after 7pm around these parts. His pink shaft poked out of its sheath and quickly swelled to a respectable five inches, then as the knot swelled, settled at just over six inches. It throbbed and dribbled pre, almost painfully hard for what felt to Verne like no reason. "Em, Emmett, is this... what's going on?" Panic crept into his voice. "Why am I doing this?" Emmett didn't bother to hide his grin as he circled his friend, eying him up like a piece of meat. "Not bad for a nerd... I guess even you guys get to be hung nowadays. You're way too sexy to be a bookish dork. Don't you agree?" "What? No! I love my books. Emmett, please-" "Shut up!" Verne's mouth clamped shut, and he found to his horror that no amount of willpower could open it back up. His hands shot up to his face, trying to pry his maw open. "Much better. You know, while I was back there alone, I tried not to get into trouble. I really did. Don't you believe me, Verne?" Emmett leaned in from behind his friend, resting his head on the wolf's shoulder and slowly reaching around to grope his warm, dense balls. Verne nodded slowly, eyes fixated on the hand around his balls. "I feel like I can trust you aren't lying. Well, while I was there... I got into trouble. I found a book that whispered to me, that glowed. And I almost didn't approach it. But do I seem like the kind of guy who could ignore something like that?" Here Verne shook his head, though it looked as if he struggled not to. "Well, you're right. I'm not. I opened the book, Verne... and what did I find? Eros, the Greek god of love and desire, trapped inside! I know it sounds stupid, but you kinda have to believe me. I mean, look what we're doing right now. You know I'm forcing you to do this." His paw slid up to Verne's knot, and he gripped behind it with one hand, coming down to massage the shaft with the other. The wolf's eyes fluttered, and he thrusted instinctually into the air. "He told me he wanted to free everyone from their hangups, let everyone indulge in their desires. He told me that he had to give someone his powers to make it happen. And I told him that I wanted the exact same thing, because I wanted his powers. But do you want to know a secret?" Verne shook his head with a muffled whimper. Emmett grinned and kissed his friend's ear before whispering: "I ain't gonna do that shit. I'm going to make everyone do what I want instead." The whimper of horror that burst from Verne's chest sent shivers down Emmett's spine, and pumped blood into his cock. For the first time in his life, he didn't bother adjusting his tent as he circled around back into Verne's view. Precum bubbled through his pants fabric before dripping to the floor. "Verne, you've always made me feel stupid. You know way too much. You're always reading some stupid fucking book and I'm tired of it. I'm just as smart as you. Hell, I'm smarter!" Verne twitched and whined as Emmett's words took effect, though the dingo had no idea it was happening. "I've always thought you would be better as a stupid dog, a fucking feral. And now... you're going to act like it." Verne let out a yawlp as he immediately dropped to all fours. Any worry marring his expression melted away, replaced by a dumb sort of wonder at the world. He slowly looked around, experiencing the world for the first time from a dog's perspective... then immediately set about familiarizing himself with his surroundings. Emmett watched with a bemused smile as Verne crawled across the half-swept floor and stuck his head into every nook and cranny he could, taking big, noisy whiffs each time he did. Judging by his wagging tail, the mutt was quite enjoying it! "Such a good boy! Having fun, puppy?" The puppy barked and pulled his head out from under the desk. He had cobwebs on his snout, but he sneezed them off before Emmett could help him and continued sniffing around. He took particular interest in the trash in the bin at the front of the store, which he hadn't yet changed. His tail went into overdrive, and Verne nosed the filthy can a few times before he managed to tip it over. A few days worth of trash spilled out. It was mainly discarded papers, but there were the remains of a couple lunches in there as well. Verne snuffed the piles around and rooted through them with his nose, searching for something good. Finally he found the half-eaten Italian sub he'd had for lunch that day. He immediately started gulping it down, heedless of the warm, half-dried mayonnaise and the used tissue stuck to the side. Emmett couldn't help but giggle. Verne was even wearing his favorite outfit today, red polo and blue tie-on hood, alongside comfortable tan khakis that made him look particularly slender and bookish. The professional getup made him crawling around and eating from the trash even hotter. "Such a good boy!" he said. Verne barked happily in response, and Emmett crouched down next to him to give him gentle, encouraging scritches behind the ear. "Tastes good, don't it boy? You love eating trash, don't you?" Though Verne barked affirmatively each time, he pulled away from his old lunch after that and turned towards Emmett. The dingo tipped his head, curious as to where this was going. Verne's nose twitched and worked as he sniffed the air, scenting something that obviously excited him. The wolf followed his nose, crawling forward one step, then another, and then... Emmett chuckled as Verne buried his nose in Emmett's crotch and began huffing like a whore on poppers. "There we go, good boy!" he encouraged. It was so nice to be able to treat his friend like a dumb mutt, just like he'd always wanted to. Verne's pants began to tent again as he lost himself in Emmett's musk. The real Verne no doubt would be disgusted at even a hint of unwashed musk, but the mutt Verne absolutely adored the heady, heavy scent that had taken weeks of not showering to build up. The sight of Verne's arousal got Emmett going again too, but he decided against pulling his cock out just yet. After a little while, Verne pulled away with his face disheveled and more than a little greasy. Given how pent up he looked, Emmett half expected Verne to turn around and offer his hole. Instead, all he got was a pleading whine and a few furtive glances to the door. Verne crawled to it after a few moments and pawed at it desperately. Oh. It clicked in Emmett's mind, and he grinned. "Aw, puppy. Do you need to use the bathroom? You need to go potty outside like a good housebroken puppy?" He got another affirmative bark, then another needy whine. The dingo furrowed his brows, faking deep thought before shaking his head. "No." Verne whined. Perhaps there was a little bit of that clean freak breaking through. "Don't you whine at me, pup. All good dogs piss inside. Being housebroken is embarrassing. You're a feral after all! Piss and shit where you want!" Though permission was given, Verne still squirmed and whimpered in discomfort. No amount of pleading whines and pawing at the door moved Emmett's heart, though, so eventually the time came. Verne turned a deep red and tried one last pleading, pathetic whine. He gave Emmett the saddest puppy dog eyes he could make... but alas. The dingo just laughed and shook his head. "Piss yourself, mutt!" It was going to happen anyways - but in a command? Verne let out a moan and a wail as his bladder finally released, and a cloying scent filled the room. Piss dripped and dribbled through the wolf's pants and puddled onto the floor, staining the unfinished wood a dark yellow. His tail tucked between his legs, and he pulled away as if he was going to slink into a corner. Emmett swooped in before he could do so and started rubbing his ears, praising him and giving him little kisses on the forehead. "Good boy! Good boy, what a good boy! I'm so proud!" Bit by bit, Emmett's praises worked its way through the mutt's brain, and Verne began to cautiously wag. The dingo had to chuckle to himself: even in mutt form, Verne was a stickler for staying clean. It made sense: he was acting like a dog, but it didn't mean he was one. Still, he seemed to be enjoying it... though something about his eyes felt off. "Alright boy, I think we've had enough fun," Emmett said. Verne tipped his head. "Let's play a different game... oh, I've got it! Act like a horny whore, one who's desperate for me to fuck him." This should be fun. Immediately Verne's barks turned into a long, needy moan, and he buried his face in Emmett's crotch once again. "Fuck me," he groaned as he feverishly undid Emmett's jeans. "Fuck, god please fuck me, I need you!" Emmett was startled by the ferocity of Verne's sudden need. He knew he'd said desperate, but he wasn't imagining turning his friend into this much of a gutter slut. As his pants fell around his ankles and exposed the black thong barely containing his hefty cock, he concluded that it probably had something to do with the way Verne himself interpreted the order. It certainly said something about Verne's repressed desires. Verne started huffing and kissing at Emmett's musky balls, feverishly slurping at them through the thin fabric of his thong. The wet, warm tongue lapping against them felt amazing. Almost no one went down on him anymore due to his smell. It had been what, four, five months? Verne could never have known of Emmett's drought, but it felt like he was trying to make up for lost time. All too soon, Emmett felt his cock start to throb and twitch, and his balls raise up. "Alright, alright! Easy slut, easy. Hands off for a second." The wolf slut whined as he was taken away from his prize, but obediently pulled away and knelt in front of his dingo. "Y-Yes sir." His voice had taken on a sultry tone, one entirely foreign to Emmett. It suited Verne well. "What are your orders then?" Emmett raised his brow and pondered. There's a lot of possibilities here. "If I told you I wanted to fuck your ass, what would you do?" Instead of an answer, Verne immediately turned around and hiked his ass high in the air, arching his back and wiggling seductively. Then, to Emmett's surprise, Verne reached back, grabbed the seat of his favorite pants... and tore it wide open. It split straight down the middle, exposing the very interesting fact that Verne wasn't wearing underwear... that and his pink, pulsing little hole. "O-ooo fuck sir, that feels good," he moaned. His taint and hole twitched in the cool air, almost as if they were begging to be ruined. "Please, god please fuck me! I need you inside me, I won't be complete without you in me!" God damn. Emmett whistled and shook his head as he approached his toy. "Gotta say, you wear this slut thing pretty well. Wouldn't complain about you acting like this all the time." As a reward, the dingo finally pulled out his shaft, rubbing it for a moment before letting it thud down between Verne's cheeks. The slut squealed and twerked back on it - or did his best - as he tried to line up his hole with Emmett's cock tip. The soft pink dingo's cock was much larger than one would expect when first seeing him: it was a vibrant pink, like his fur and rather than a sheath, it had a standard humanoid shape. That wasn't to say it was small: on the contrary, it was thicker than Verne's knot and throbbed away at a solid seven and a half inches. The sensation of soft ass fur brushing against his cock and balls almost tempted Emmett greatly, it really did... but after a few seconds of indulgence, Emmett had to pull back. "Sadly for you, slut, I don't top people. It's a rule of mine. I'm more of a power bottom, but there's no way I'd ever let a needy whore like you fuck me." Verne let out a devastated whine and immediately started fingering himself as a subpar replacement. For a whore, he was rather tight. It was odd, but not that big a deal to Emmett. Maybe Verne was just a whore who kept himself tight for his hookups. It wasn't like he was ever going to use that hole anyways. "Aww," Emmett said. "That's so cute... don't worry, you're still going to have your fun! Tell ya what bud: since you won't get fucked by me, we'll give you another source of pleasure. You might have figured I like a little more filthiness than most people. So from now on, act like you're a total shit slut." The change was immediate. Verne's hole stretched wide around a fat, solid log. Inch after inch of it slid out, poking into the air before finally breaking off and plopping onto the wolf's shoes. His devastated expression melted into a satisfied grin, and he pushed out log after log onto his shoes and the floor. Then, after he'd emptied himself entirely, Verne sat up, rubbed his cock for a moment, then splatted back into his own mess. The slut moaned at the sensation and grinded back into his mess, smearing it around onto his hole and the tattered remains of his khakis. It almost felt like he'd forgotten that Emmett was there entirely. That was fine as far as the dingo cared, though. It gave him a chance to observe and think without having to entertain or interact with his toy. Emmett circled Verne as he indulged in his disgusting kinks. It felt fucking good to see the bookish wolf reduced to this. As he grabbed fistfuls of shit and shoved them into his maw, Verne gagged and heaved at the taste but managed to swallow it all anyways. It was a commendable dedication to the act. The bloodshot eyes, the drooling maw, it was all rather convincing. He paused mid-stride. Something was strange here. Verne, having choked down all the shit he could reasonably consume, got on all fours again to try and push out more for him to eat. All that came out was a quiet burst of gas, followed by straining and hungry whines. Emmett half grinned. He might not have had any shit left, but at least he could get another look at that tight, shit covered fuckhole. Wait. The dingo frowned as he pondered his fallen friend. His hole was tight even though he was a slut, he ran out of shit after one load even though he was a shit addict... and earlier, something in Verne's eyes confused him. Emmett knelt down next to the slut and cupped his chin in his hands, forcing Verne to look at him. He looked deep into his eyes for a little while and thought. "Ah... that's the problem." Verne tipped his head. "Problem, sir?" "Yes, problem," Emmett grinned. "See, you're acting like a shit slut, but your hole is tight because... why?" "Oh well, it's just an act sir." Verne's eyes widened slightly at the realization. "Exactly! You're acting! And because you're acting, your body isn't adapting to reality. And because you're acting, you're not as enthusiastic about your new situation as I'd like. And because you're acting... I can still see the absolute terror in your eyes." Verne nodded and groaned as he pushed out another little fart. "That makes sense to me, sir." Emmett's grin grew wider. "So we should fix that. Don't you agree, my friend?" "I..." For the briefest moment, Verne stuttered. His straining slowed, he sat up just a little bit. Acting could only get you so far before you broke character. Luckily for this thespian, or perhaps unluckily, the power of Eros was too strong to allow that to happen. And so it was that, despite the growing desperation in Verne's eyes, frantically looking around for anyone who could help, he smiled. "Why, I think that's an amazing idea sir!" he said chipperly. "Instead of telling me to act like a shit slut, why don't you try just telling me I am one?" All this because a shit slut would never turn down an opportunity to enjoy shit more. Forced dedication to his character. Ultimate method acting. "Of course," Emmett breathed. "Of course. Thanks Verne, truly. I appreciate your help. Maybe it's good you had some intelligence in that dweeb little brain of yours." Emmett stared deep into Verne's panicking, pleading eyes. "This isn't acting anymore. You're a total shit slut, and you always have been." Verne let out a squeal like he's being choked and his eyes rolled into the back of his head. His whole body wriggled as change after change played out in quick succession. First came his fur: once soft and well kempt, his pelt became unkempt, poorly trimmed and dull. He wasn't obviously filthy, but it was blatant that he took no care for his appearance any longer. The barely covered stench of shit and stale piss formed a smelly haze around him. Verne's eyes rolled back in pure pleasure.There was a sickeningly wet sound as a fat rosebud blossomed from his once tight, now well used hole, growing a moment before flopping out in six inches of flower. Short, greasy logs splattered out of his fleshpipe in a cascade. They splattered across the floor and peppered Emmett's legs. As he unloaded once again, his body began to change too. His thighs swelled, becoming meatier and gaining inch after jiggly inch. They threatened to split the seams of what was left of his pants. His flat belly swelled into a solid gut, stretching out his polo and forcing it to ride up. His slight pecs ballooned out into verified moobs and stretched his poor polo even more. His cheeks plumped up, and perhaps most strikingly his neck gained several inches. Emmett figured this version of Verne ate two, three times what he used to in order to keep his loads huge. His tied-on hood became tattered and stained with yellow and brown. It was something of a make-shift collar for him. The most important change, however, was in his eyes. As soon as everything settled down, Emmett stared deep into his friend's eyes... and he saw nothing but pleasure and lust. "Perhaps I'm doing Eros' work in a way," Emmett muttered to himself. "He sure looks happy." Emmett's words knocked Verne out of his shit-fueld stupor, and he sat back in his mess before idly smearing it on himself. "What was that?" he asked. "Nothing. Forget it. I was thinking though - why don't you grab that poetry book you showed me? The one that you wrote and got printed?" Verne smiled and stood up with a nod. "Yeah of course! I'm glad you're still interested honestly." He grabbed a couple logs as a snack and then disappeared in back for a few moments, talking as he went. "I'm real proud of it," he said between what sounded like bites of shit. "Took a lot to do, y'know?" Interesting. Shit-slut Verne was still a fucking nerd, even if he did speak a little dumber now. Emmett smiled as Verne returned to the room, holding the book out to him. There were shit stains on the cover from where the wolf had grabbed it. Emmett inspected it a moment, thumbing through the pages. Nothing had changed, or at least nothing that he'd noticed. All was perfect. He handed it back to the wolf. "Destroy it." Verne stared back in horror. "D... Destroy it?" The dingo sighed and smiled. "Stupid Verne. You really are dumb, aren't you?" The wolf groaned as a little more of his mind slipped away. "I'll spell it out for you. You hate books. Fucking despise them. The one thing you do like them for, and the whole damn reason you got this job... is because you love destroying them. You think it's fucking hot to ruin a book in the worst ways imaginable." His friend stared down at the book wide-eyed as his new reality percolated through his head. "And now?" Emmett said. "Destroy it." There was no hesitation: with a moan and then a squeal of glee, Verne went crazy. He tore page after page out of the book, shoving them in his mouth and doing his best to chew them up and eat them. His saliva splattered over every remaining page. The wolf then dropped it into the pile of shit and dropped on all fours. He chewed at the leather binding, soaked the rest of the pages in shit before shoving what he could fit into his ass. Finally, with effort, he grunted and pulled until finally he tore the binding in two. He threw the remains of the book down to the ground, panting and heaving from the exertion. Emmett stood there, and Verne looked up to him with trusting eyes. "Did I do good enough?" Emmett grinned. "You did amazing, slut. You know how proud I am of your progress." Verne squealed and giggled to himself, basking in the glow of Emmett's praise. Nothing had quite pushed him enough to cum yet, but the more he thought about how happy Emmett was with him, the more and more aroused he became. His cock throbbed, his balls retracted, and without a single touch Verne shot jet after jet of cum onto himself. His orgasm wracked his whole body, and he fell into the pile of shit in front of him to ride it out. Meanwhile, Emmett lost himself in thought. These powers seemed to have quite a lot of influence, far beyond what Emmett had originally expected. They couldn't just introduce thoughts, they could force a being to act, or even force them to change. He'd expected the Greek god to oversell himself, but it turned out Eros was telling the truth. His mind wandered from his current toy to his new one: Red. Dumb jock was a great person, but a little too clean for Emmett's liking. He'd always tried to get him to relax on these things, but Red always insisted on showers, cleaning, everything that a good jock should hate. It frustrated Emmett to no end... but no more. Red was going to be a proper jock: stinky, nasty and a foul mouthed bully. He glanced at Verne. He wanted to play with Red a bit, stretch out his improvement process, but he didn't want him to see Verne like this. If he did, he'd have to make all the changes at once, and where was the fun in that? But on the other hand, he didn't want to turn Verne back to normal. This new Verne was quite fun. Perhaps... "Verne." Verne looked up. "Hm?" "I don't feel like going to the store with you tonight. Why don't you go on your own? Make sure to get everything we need, and uh... while you're there. I know you have had hundreds of disgusting fantasies about that place. Go there and make them true." "Oh god, fuck. Yes sir!" Verne sprung to his feet in excitement, then looked down to himself. "What about my clothes? I'm pretty gross, heh... a-and um, a lot of my fantasies... they might take a while. And most of them would get me noticed, and... well I don't want to get arrested." "Don't worry," Emmett consoled Verne, and Verne felt immediately better. "No one is going to notice you, no matter what you do, and anything they do notice they'll just act like it's normal. You'll be fine, I promise." Verne reached out and grabbed Emmett's hand. "You know, I can't help but trust you when you talk like that. I'm so glad we're friends Emmett, you're amazing. I'd never want anything more than this." Others might have felt a sting of remorse. A tinge of regret. Emmett felt nothing but pride at how thoroughly fucked his formerly nerdy friend had become. Now they were real friends, and Verne trusted Emmett implicitly. What could be better than that? "Thanks man, you're a good friend too. Tell ya what, go to the grocery store and indulge until you pass out. The groceries can wait until morning, I'll even come over and pick you up." "Oh gosh, really? Thank you so much!" Verne squealed and hugged Emmett before rushing out the shop door, leaving it open behind him. The lights were on, the security system was off, and the front area was a mess. Emmett looked around at the aftermath and smiled. Of course this Verne would abandon his closing duties to go get off. He's a better person now. With a contented sigh, he stretched and made his way out the front door. He didn't shut it behind him. As he walked down the street to their apartment, thoughts of Red swirled through his mind. The lovable buffoon was about to become a little filthier... just how Emmett wanted him. --Epilogue-- The cool spring breeze ruffled Verne's fur as he made his way to his uncle's grocery. The only sound was the wet slap of his filthy shoes, the soft squelching sway of his rosebud, and the scuttle of a few leftover autumn leaves across the road. He'd been a little nervous to walk down the street in his state, but the few people he did pass didn't even spare him a glance. It shouldn't surprise him Emmett was right about that: he was right about everything. He rounded the corner and spotted the familiar sign above his uncle's spot. He'd spent his childhood summers there and made plenty of good memories. It was also just a few blocks away from his apartment, so he went there pretty frequently through adulthood as well. It was a place close to his heart... but also a place he'd wanted to ruin so, so badly. With each step he took, his mind filled with more and more disgusting, erotic images, ideas of what he could do when he arrived. He knew exactly where the eggs were kept, and had several theories of how they could best get him off. After that, he'd probably make his way to the bakery. From there... who knew? The sign was flipped to 'Closed' and the front door was locked, but the light was still on in the back of the shop. His uncle James was likely still there, prepping for opening the next morning. It had been a while since he'd had run into him there, but it wasn't unheard of for him to work the closing shift by himself. Verne smiled. It would be nice to see his favorite uncle again. They had some catching up to do.