FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

This story is a work of fiction, and any resemblance to any characters or events, living, dead or imaginary is purely a coincidence. All original characters and these stories themselves are copyright to eternalwanderer speech"

internalized dialog

[soul link]

+telepathy+

Shadows of Past & Future

Chapter 2

He retched, expelling hard shapes that tasted of metal and plastic from his throat. Coughing a few times as the remaining obstructions were cleared away. This is starting to get annoying-I hate the taste of break free, even as the first conscious thoughts percolated slowly across his awareness Benjamin knew he hadn't been out for long. Splotches of light and darkness returned to his empty sight, quickly sharpening into fuzzy shapes. There was a long obstruction dividing the view.

Not that he saw anything of interest, a pale surface that felt like concrete under harsh overhead lighting. Another dark shape to the left and the taste of concrete, its gritty texture against his tongue. How am I tasting concrete, my tongue isn't sticking out?_Multiplicity pulled at the confused officer's attention, Ben could taste concrete as well as the inside of his mouth. Feel the drool trailing across one brow and the texture of his mane from the jaw lying atop his head that produced it; see from eyes both open and closed at the same time. A clear membrane flicked across his eyes wiping them clear of dust and in its wake vision assumed crystalline precision. Indistinct no more, the dark shape was revealed as a pair of lean draconic heads resting intertwined as though in sleep. Still the mismatched sensations from his face continued. _What happened to me, what was I doing? Pruzhanov opened his eyes.

He looked at himself looking back at him from a quartet of visages completely alien to the officer. Definitely his yet he couldn't remember ever seeing them before. I'm a person. That I remember, being human, how could this be? What happened to me? Sensation had began to flow in from the rest of his body and for all it was natural it was also wrong. Too many knees and elbows digging into the floor.

It took a moment to sink in. His muzzles, his limbs, even the talons and wings all his. Eyes shot wide open and mouths snapped shut as his heads recoiled from the notion, raising up off the slab. Ben lurched up rocking his massive body from its belly to knees and elbows with a series of grinding noises as concrete flexed under the load. In a comfortable position standing on all six legs. Tremors started at the base of his necks. A wave of shivering muscle passed across his torso and into extremities. Forelimbs shook and compact wings twitched uncertainly before folding back into the pockets on his back where they hid. Gaze drawn to the gleaming teeth exposed by slack jaws. I'm not human. Obvious as it was the understanding came reluctantly. With each breath the distraught young officer could feel air being drawn into his lungs.

Unbidden his first pair of hands reached up, observed from multiple viewpoints as they moved to touch his lower right head. Shifting weight onto the pair behind as they followed a throat forward across rough-furred mane to its tip. Ben flinched, not at the contact but that the term 'his hands' could be applied to such things. Capped by long hooked claws like a bird of prey it was attached to a bulging forearm by a massive wrist. He clenched and released the talon as if reassuring himself they were truly opposable.

I'm a monster, an unwanted thought from deep within. Threatening emotional avalanche by its passage. How did this happen and why can't I remember? Up to a point things were clear, Pruzhanov could recall the vortex of light. Walking down corridors made for giants. Almost unnoticed at first but growing in amplitude he shook. From one head he watched as the others motioned as if to deny reality, tears fallen in glistening trails across their sharp face beneath tightly shut eyes. Half-stifled in his throats a low cry rose as if a mountain-sized puppy had whined. What have I become?

During its gyrations his tail struck something, what didn't matter it was one oddity too many and he lost it. Voicing a choral roar Ben spun about and leapt. No more than a brief impression of ugly yellow-purple-green as the impact overbalanced it. Lesser creatures mashed under their combined weight unnoticed. Bladed limbs wrenched off and strewn heedlessly trailing pale ichor. Armor piercing teeth hacked great rents in a hard carapace and plunged deep inside. Benjamin returned to his senses wrapped around the equally serpentine shape, constricting its broken shell in his thick coils. One head giving off a sound that belonged in hell as another bludgeoned the unidentifiable remains with its own severed head and the other two feasted.

Green-white ichor splattered everywhere for dozens of feet. He felt, better, in some way not properly describable. Calmer and more centered than before, the half-destroyed head dropped from his jaws an unimportant trifle and the last tangy remains in his jaws were bolted. The...thing, he'd taken his frustrations out on hadn't been the sole occupant of the dais. His feet and belly dripped in the pulped remains of tiny crab-like creatures. Moving off it with as much slither as walk only emphasized the differences in scale when Pruzhanov took the meter-high drop in stride.

Back on all sixes in a smooth natural motion he surveyed his surroundings. More of the raised slabs entirely surround him each with its own unique occupant. All static, unmoving objects that clearly lacked the spark of life. It was the largest enclosed space he'd ever been in. Close to one end, a set of walls visible roughly three hundred meters on either side butting up into an intersecting wall that held a door. The other end was far more distant, at least a kilometer.

But what am I going to do for gear? Do I even need gear, and how the hell would I use it anyway I'm too big? Mighty conspicuous too. A sodden and half-melted jumble at the edge of the plinth where he'd awakened proved to be the remains of his equipment. Doesn't matter now, it clearly wasn't designed for use as an antacid. Standing there thinking one of his eyes had squinted in the usual manner as all in a rush something else occurred, it was like opening up a Web Index but in his mind. Now if only he could just figure out what it did. From one corner of his half-closed eyes vague movement, blue-white shape. A sprightly yet malicious giggle echoed through his mind along with the impression of a smiling female face.

Shocked his eyes snapped wide open, blinking both sets of the nictitating membranes he hadn't even know he possessed. That didn't come from the com, it was inside my head!

[Of course silly, where else would I be for this?] It was a distinct entity, not just some nagging doubt or stray thought. [Wrong, well theologically at least. I may be individual but we share a single soul, which makes us a part of each other. Only reason why I can interact with a null like yourself.]

[But what are you?] the lieutenant asked in desperate confusion and the growing certainty he'd finally gone off the deep end.

[Your familiar,] it was unexpected even unbelievable but he also knew it was true. [I'm here because you're a wizard and for each wizard there's a familiar.]

[So, you're a spirit?]

She giggled, it was an infectiously cute sound. [Not precisely but I guess that'll have to do for now.]

[Can you help me do something? I'm just too conspicuous.]

[Just start doing what you were back when I showed up, I'll show you how as we get there.] Benjamin received the sudden vision of a saucy wink and stifled a giggle of his own. Something about this reminded him of his first sexual encounter. [A name would be nice though, hon.]

[Don't you have a name?]

[Not yet. Only my other-self can name me. That is entirely up to you, just don't disappoint me.] A play growl teased him. [Ready?]

[Let's start.] Ben tried to re-frame the thought that had instigated this new turn of events. He struggled for a moment then the menu jumped back out inside his mind. It was surprising just how correct the index analogy had been. Like an invisible bookmark list that already had links but no titles or icons, only visible when you trigger a pop-up. There was a feather light nudge he instantly recognized, pointing at a distant part of the Index. Gingerly the newly illuminated mage reached out and brushed a link. It lit up at the mental touch, becoming visible for the first time. More importantly he knew what was in it, all he'd need to do was twist it the other way to shapeshift. Now that's useful.

Warm lassitude flowed out into his body along with a static tingling sensation. Reshaping liquidly as he shrank Ben felt like twenty pounds of hot taffy being compressed into a five pound bag. Despite a faint pressure in the back of his skull it actually worked. Ha! I've got just one skull again! It had worked he was back to something near his old size judging by surroundings. More importantly he had hands again and proper arms, the accustomed shape of arm and shoulder were as Ben remembered.

One eye opened dragging the officer back down from his exhilaration and reinforcing the oddities he'd been trying to ignore. A lean scaled muzzle still jutted from his face, the hand before him still plated in thick scale and claw. Not that it could entirely kill the mood. If yet monstrous he was far less of a monster than before. Sharp recurved claws grated against the concrete of the dais as Ben dragged himself to his feet. Purely draconic and featuring an extra joint he was unsteady on the alien new legs. Leaning forward slightly and hesitantly lifted one talon to step off.

And got precisely two more steps before they tangled each other dropping him back to the floor. Just enough time for him to wonder why the hell his ass and legs were dragging before the tiles punched his snout. Oath muffled by the floor Ben lifted his head with a scrape of horns and saw the reason. Beyond what he'd taken as hips, and were actually forequarters, a long quadrupedal body stretched. Not what I expected, he tried to keep his composure in line but knew there was a core of brittleness underneath.

Heaving the bizarre extension of his body to its feet as a drunkenly staggering wreck it took several minutes for the newly sprouted limbs of his centauroid body to respond naturally. Even then he stumbled over his gait more often than not. Tail held stiffly behind to balance any sudden list or jolt.

Scarlet blossomed in his vision as a name tag appeared throwing off halos to draw attention. McCray? How did she get here? Ben shook his head, flicking one feline ear. The movement cleared away the last few trails of ichor unable to find purchase on his fur. It all went back to that vortex of light, he sort of remembered her. She's here too then, wherever here is, not certain due to the fragmentary nature of his immediate past.

Her signal came in clean and clear. Even in the toneless artificial mediary of the com implant he could hear the suppressed panic. Her transmission broke down into sobbing and muffled whimpers.

there was something being hidden.

Came in via her q-cast implant, interrupting an examination of the ram horns curling from her brow.

"Little late sir," immediately she clamped paws over her muzzle in surprise. The voice that'd emerged was a smoky contralto like bottled sex. Hell I feel like bottled sex and all I want to do is pop the cork and pass me around. "I'm a...freak, a monster. What happened to me?" Her entire body ached with the force of her arousal. A foreign hand brushed over one elbow, carefully moved to her face where it brushed up her muzzle before settling. Large enough to cradle most of one side of her head the paw tilted it up. Lieutenant Pruzhanov stood before her, or at least what her IFF said was lieutenant Pruzhanov. Maned draconic head that sprouted several compact backswept horns. Brandi couldn't help being impressed even as he hefted her up to sit on the border of the dais by a bicep.

At the sight her nipples were stiffening so hard the pair of sensitive nubs became painful, she liked that. One last anomaly that punched through glassy surface calm precariously maintained since the radio operator woke confused and missing several hours. They were her black steel hooves resting against the tiled floor, her long fluffy tail, all hers including the curled horns being rubbed by her clawed handpaws. What seemed no more than a few inches beyond the canine muzzle jutting out of her face were her own massive tits. Covered in soft fur and gravity defying in their artificiality, her basketball sized orbs were so huge the soldier figured she could probably suck on them without even using her hands. Wrap my tongue around and pull it back to my muzzle. Brandi had a sudden visual image of herself doing exactly that. Forked tongue curling around the thumb-sized knob like a python.

McCray realized she actually wanted to try and how much the idea turned her on was more shocking than a boot in the teeth. One arm reached out tentatively in unneeded support, cradling the underside of orbs that extended several inches past her elbows with a handpaw planted square across her left nipple. Just looking at the pair made her wet and she wanted to give them a lick so bad. Until it hit home she'd been sitting in front of her CO visibly aroused and considering how best to suck her own tits. The flush of humiliation drove a sharp spike of sexual need that washed out everything else for a few seconds. What else is wrong with me?

"McCray?" It sounded less a voice than an articulate landslide, the words vibrating tile chips from the gouges her hooves made. "McCray are you okay?" He was clearly worried. She only noticed when it stopped that all along she'd been kneading her overgenerous bosom.

Brandi was about as far from alright as anyone could be, and refused to let it show then and there as a moment of weakness. Instead she just nodded and replied via implant, unwilling to trust her voice.

"Then let's go," the words rumbled softly down from a foot beyond her standing height. My commander is a refugee from a bad Dr. Moreau remake, if not for her own altered state she would've dismissed it as illusion. Today no hallucination could overshadow reality gone insane. Like god dropped acid and mixed up a centaur and a dragon. The soldier tore her eyes away from his muscled hindquarters where a deep bulge at the pubis sizable enough to hide a large thermos lay under especially heavy scutes. As he guided her to her broad hooves the absurdity of it all overwhelmed her. Causing the specialist to pull herself into a clinging embrace, giggling even as the tears slid down her fuzzy cheeks.

***

"Look here sir," she'd really worked toning down her voice but it was still dangerously arousing. The sound alone enough to bring his shaft peeking out. Ben found it impossible not to get an eyeful, gaze lingering over the two features dominating her appearance.

"Another 'costume shop' we've already passed at least four." He snorted through an arrowhead shaped muzzle he was still acclimating to, "I've already gotten into enough trouble here even if I don't remember what happened."

She sighed in exasperation, creating a jab of lust right to the groin and undoing earlier efforts. Every noise she uttered seemed a sexually charged invitation. "This one says 'anthropoids' on it. I don't know about you but I'm tired of walking around naked. We can swipe some clothes and be done in a few minutes." Considering what had already happened he wasn't sure anything was safe. On the other hand it was accept a risk now or maybe stay unclothed. Besides if he had to watch her walk around nude much longer it would be him doing the inviting and maybe not accepting 'no'.

"We'll do it," Ben relented, "but carefully." She threw the now familiar switch on the wall and entered before he could speak further. An action far enough outside discipline to worm past distractions and strike the officer. Neither of them had been acting professionally since whatever had changed them. We're too complacent, even now there could still be threats. Either way their situation was fucked up enough without pressing an order that could undermine his authority.

Enough of a delay in the thought for Pruzhanov to notice once more oddity before he entered. Unlike the others this sign didn't say 'COSTUME SHOP' merely 'ANTHROPOIDS.' McCray was already entering the compartment her long tail the only visible feature as it stuck out past a curtain of impenetrable darkness. Just before it vanished through the divider it whipped up arrow straight in startlement. Silence broken by a startled curse and the dull thwack of fist striking flesh, followed by the incongruous noise of laughter.

In haste to reach point he narrowly avoided trampling the specialist only to be confronted with a scene of hilarity. She'd clamped her handpaws over her muzzle to stifle the sound. The victim, a rather scrawny fox-man, lay sprawled on the floor with a caved-in skull. Dressed in only a loincloth of uncured hide and still clutching a stone handaxe. One of many crowded into the space. All far more humble and numerous than what they'd seen in that first bizarre chamber. Those were all unique or powerful. These are like the racks at Mall-Mart by comparison. Crowded into simple raised hexagons about ankle high.

"Done?" she nodded with a paw still clamped on her muzzle to stifle the near hysterical laughter, "then let's get on with it." In all direction far as he could see the room was packed with uncannily life-like props of every possible size, shape, or species that vaguely qualified as humanoid. Many were one or another form of anthropomorphic animal. At least it should make finding clothes designed for a tail easier. Then he was moving behind McCray in the labyrinth. Where all he could concentrate on for a moment was her ass, eyes pulled to it by the motions of tail and hip.

He walked past at least a hundred of them in a quarter as many feet. Packed into the crowded platforms each was garbed and equipped for the role it represented. Not that it had been much use so far but there was a pattern, he could see the first glints of metal. Stone handaxes and sharpened sticks at the entrance, metal ahead. So the further on the more advanced? Long as some still carry weapons our problem is solved. McCray broke off to one side, moving into the press away from its cleared axial path. Ben let her go, it was stupid and unprofessional but it also removed the growing temptation just to pounce on the smaller female and do what came naturally.

Using the closest figures on either side as a gauge of how far he'd gone Pruzhanov continued. Bow and sword left behind quickly, he stopped to admire the workmanship of gleaming plate worn by one raccoon before moving on. Only when he saw the first weapon he couldn't recognize did Ben move into the tight-packed swarm of mannequins. Searching out a firearm and something to wear, not necessarily in that order.

Eventually one of them brought him to a halt. Okay I see the difficulties with this form but that one just might work._Anachronistic compared to those around it the figures on the large platform seemed more the product of a baroque past than distant future. _Big one's clothes should fit me. It was even 'taurform' as his familiar called the body type. None of that helped drag the big dog thing out into the aisle where he could strip it. [Wolftaur,] the cheerful little pest chimed in, [and have you thought of a name yet?]

[Just a little preoccupied at the moment.] He panted, the creature was only a few inches shorter and even more heavily built than himself. For all it was inanimate the mannequin felt real, damned creepy. Under the pads of Ben's handpaws it wasn't plastic or metal or even fabric. The round bicep was meat, bone and muscle wrapped in living rooted fur. First to come off were the heavy boots of segmented armor plate, those he tossed aside as unable to fit on his paws. Next came the stormcoat, it's dull brown leather hemmed with a strip of thick blue fabric where it had been shortened slightly to adapt it for the unusual body type. Followed by uniform blouse and undershirt. Leaving only the odd coverall style garment on its lower torso. As he manhandled the clothing off via its long dorsal zipper a certain difference became obvious. This isn't a suit, it has no entry or seams. What is it? There was a growing worry he didn't want to acknowledge. Could he end up like that, a mannequin on display?

Then he saw the tag and a wave of relief passed over him. "A made thing then, not some poor trapped son of a bitch." What he'd said processed and the officer smiled for the first time since the entire nightmare had started. It'd been hidden in the scruff of longer fur at the midhip and the writing was tiny. Barely legible even when he brought his eyes close and squinted. 'REVENENT: ARTIFICIAL BIONT GAURANTEED 100% MENTALLY AND PHYSICALLY ACCURATE TO THE ORIGINAL. TEAR OFF AT PERFORATION TO ACTIVATE.' He didn't know which was more horrible, the idea of someone being trapped as an inanimate thing or that somewhere there were 'people' that manufactured other 'people' like a GM plant. Hell of an incentive to handle carefully though. Done with the thing Ben rolled it to the edge of the aisle where it was out of the way.

Newness of the experience aside he had no trouble with shirt and coat. That coverall thing on the other hand. [Taur pants,] his personal hitchhiker clarified, [always seemed prudish and silly to me. Course it does keep your fur clean. So, you have a name for me yet?]

[Maybe, how about...]

[Don't you dare!] She gasped in horror and he chuckled.

[Never,] Ben agreed. [It was still funny though. And how long are you going to hitch along like this?] About then he managed to fasten the main zipper over the ridge to either side of his spine where his wings furled. But the garment draped like a tent over his lean body.

[I'm short one body in case you noticed?] She pointed out as he stood fully clothed. [First I need my name so I'm complete. Then I'd need a body to fuse with.] Ben played with the flap his tail was threaded through until its seam stopped chafing.

[What about that last part, are there any special requirements? Because one thing I see all around are bodies.]

[They're revenants they already have a soul.] She paused, [Of course there might be a way. You'd have to name me first and follow my instructions.]

[I'll do anything for you...Anastasia.] He pronounced her true name for the first time. From the familiar came a sensation only describable as a cross of mind-shattering orgasm and rush of enlightenment. Ben put down the vague tingling feeling all over as a carryover from that or his lack of experience at wearing clothing over scales. [So on to your new body?]

[Please, I would like to choose. After all I'm going to be wearing it a long time.] The lieutenant spotted a battered cap lying at the feet of the stripped wolftaur. Smiling as he turned it over in his handpaws and saw the insignia pinned to it. This itching reminds me of something. Hey it even fits my horns. Twisting to get the article down over his skull decorations without tearing it he absently settled the dark cap on his head.

Tingling gave way instantly to burning pressure. He couldn't move or speak and the fear rose he'd be replacing the prior owner of the uniform on display. Terrible ripping pain as if organs and flesh were exploding from the inside and being reknit. How long it went on was impossible to tell but the pressure eventually lessened and died away. Ben could feel his ribcages crack and press outward as things shifted inside both torsos, barreling them as taut abs stretched into hard masses like beer kegs. Cold artificial muscle layered down in strips across every inch of his body pushing up mountain ranges of muscle on a suddenly much beefier frame. [Well that was exciting!] Anastasia noted perkily.

When he regained control of his body all he could do was stand there and pant. Paws pressed over abs that had rounded into a power lifter's hardened kettledrum paunch. Under slabs of muscle half a foot thick Pruzhanov could tell there were unnatural additions to the contents of his guts. "Fuck me," he exhaled shakily and took his first breath since it started.

[I'd be happy to love but there's one little problem with that.] Something about the way she said it just made him laugh. When she stuck out her immaterial blue tongue at him in response he only guffawed harder.

[Then we'll just have to get started.] Ben reached for some of the stripped wolftaur's gear.

[Don't bother you'd only have to take it off again.]

He paused mid-motion. [In that case lead on.]

[Look around for me, I need to see!] Excitement jittered through her voice. [There!] A sharp mental jab directed him at a spot further down the aisle. [No the other one, the shorter one!] Closing he aimed for the dusky ocelot.

[What now?]

[Yes she'll do nicely, almost perfect material.]

[Huh?]

[I need something close enough to readjust into my proper species. That looks to do well enough, now unzip your fly.] Ben looked down at the revenant in question uncertainly but followed directions. [First get her out of those clothes.]

[I don't think this is going to work.] He gazed at a figure half his height and a fraction his weight. Assuming it involved what he thought it did there was just no way.

[Dammit.] After a pause Anastasia responded sounding downcast. [You're right, I wanted to be meagain. To touch again, feel the wind in my fur.]

[You still can, you'll just need to...] Pruzhanov searched for the proper words. [Consider certain physical limitations first.] For a moment he thought the sniffling and temperamental spirit would throw a grande mal fit.

[Well everybody needs change. Besides you look like a good ride, shame to pass that up.] Mood clearing with the speed of an April thunderstorm. [That one at the back, the taur. She'll be fine but first off with the clothes, you'll thank me later.]

Before Pruzhanov could collect his impressions he found himself in a unique position. Even though both were taurs the size difference was such he handled the vixen like a child. [Hold the tag between your fingers but don't pull it.] Fine, still he was beginning to run short of 'hands' with one holding her head in the proper position another on the tag and a pair of forelegs restraining her body. That and the case of blue balls developing from holding something naked and emphatically female. His body recognized it as a mating posture whether or not he did.

[Remember to complete the binding you must finish in her.] Before he could ask for clarification of this sudden enlightenment a surge of presence rippled from its accustomed place in his mind down through his handpaw and into the revenant. Clutched between numb fingers its tag evaporated in a burst of green flame. The artificial creature in his grasp came to life before Pruzhanov's sight. In that brief moment as their gazes met he saw confusion, fear, and shock writ large in her deep brown eyes.

Then all hell broke loose, claws of steel dug into his biceps as the revenant tried to drag herself out from under his bulk. Hindquarters twisted to deliver a kick to the groin narrowly deflected by an interposed talon. Nigh-unnatural flexibility contorted her entirely around in his grasp until they were pressed belly to belly, rows of firm mammary mashed between their bodies. Dainty forelegs wrapped around his lower torso, their metal claws leaving bloody scratches in his sides. The handpaw slashing out in return halted inches from the femme by a concerted effort of both arms and the metal tentacles curling out from behind her back.

Freeing Ben to grab her by the scruff at her withers with his other hand and jerk back hard. Stopped short as the femme was dragged back down across his chest just before chromed fangs could reach his neck. A burnished handpaw drove its blunt alloy fist into his side forcing a grunt from the lieutenant as ribs protested the beating. His right handpaw slowly moved closer to her neck and a second pair of mechadendrites emerged from behind her back to halt its progress. The clawed prosthetic tentacles gouged and his grip loosened on her scruff. Striking out in a feral lunge the vixen's teeth could barely encompass the front of his throat but it would be plenty. Except that it wasn't, pain blossomed from where her teeth dug into scale but his neck was too thick for her jaws to grip properly. Snarling she tried to worry his neck like a terrier with a rat but only tugged at the thick crocodile like skin and deepen her tooth-hold slightly. Black blood thick as oil trickled into her mouth.

Surprise brought her head recoiling away from him as she instinctively released upon contact with the acidic and vile tasting liquid. He didn't consider anything it all happened too fast for that. Ben delivered a headbutt that left the femme disoriented and reeling. Impaired she couldn't counter his following clouts upon the ear and face. Before she had a chance to re-engage he dropped to the floor and kept her legs pinned against his greater mass where they could get no leverage.

Forced to remain still she looked up when his shadow occluded her face. The vixen's eyes were darting and wild, expression marred by panic. No recognition or response, she was so hysterical all she saw were her own fears. Again the female thrust her head forward, this time biting down on his right forearm near the wrist. Piercing leathery hide and digging through flesh until stopped by the harder layer of artificial muscle. From some deep pit of scarred emotion within darkness reached out.

Ben shifted position to free up his other handpaw and proceeded to club the femme repeatedly about the skull. Bludgeoning with clenched fist until she was half-concussed and released her grip. Too hurt for continued histrionics she appeared to finally be seeing him. At least there was recognition in those eyes as they saw his uniform cap. Running hot with anger at the fight he still panted, one side of her face already beginning to show a bruise under the fur. Something in her helplessness called to a savage aspect of the lieutenant no longer chained.

The feel of her hips pinned between his hind legs suddenly prominent, throbbing pulse in his temples as she trembled beneath his body. Anger and need welled up from that disavowed part of himself to shatter the dam. Ben shifted positions, rubbing her pelvis against the tip of his caudal bulge. No immediate response beyond vague twisting of the female's head. Then his explorations found her cleft, moist and hot against the scales of his groin. Terror galvanized her expression, body writhing to escape his restraint as she understood.

"Please," she spoke a language unlike anything he'd ever heard and to his amazement Ben comprehended as if he'd been born speaking it. "Please don't!" Now begging in a tone one step from a terrified kitten. Tears matted the fur of her cheeks in unheeded torrents. The fist that had struck gently cupped one of her ripe breasts drawing a moan. His pointed shaft's tip connected with her petals and in a gasp her eyes shot wide. An erection the size of a large thermos beginning to poke forward out of its internal sheathe.

In response he drove the first few inches of maleness into her heated depths. Fluids ran lazily from where they joined and he silenced her cries with a hand encircling her sharp muzzle. Keeping the handpaw in place to prevent further outbursts Ben thrust again forcing a bit more inside. It was nearly an impossible fit, the vixen so tight he wondered if she'd ever been taken. Beyond the heady scent of her lubrication so tempting he could smell blood and tell she was on the verge of tearing at the strain.

Taking it more slowly now one of his paws moved back to her breasts. Ben eased further in to a series of stifled gasps and yowls. "More," a barely intelligible moan. Weren't her eyes dark brown before? He plowed in as much as her virginal snatch could handle, now almost halfway in. She rocked her hips working further down the massive tool, unexpectedly cooperating with the process. An obstruction blocked further progress and her movements became more intense, frantic even. One of his forelegs reached back seeking her ass, instead blunt fingers dug into the base of her tail. Driven into a thunderous orgasm the femme's tail clamped down on his own at the same time her overstuffed quim clenched its inner hand. Ben managed to hilt himself even fitting his knot within to complete the tie before instinct took over, spilling his essence inside her deepest recess.

When he came back down enough to remember what was happening Ben opened his eyes. Their first sight a pair of lambent green eyes surrounded in royal blue fur staring back. Steel paws and mechadendrites roving insistently across his body with a gentle touch so at odds to their construction. Muzzles collided, locked together, her wide tongue so deep in his throat it brushed tonsils before his own longer forked one wrapped around it. Ben moved his hindquarters stirring the member still locked within her flower.

"I love you," Anastasia's familiar voice came from the vixen jumbled as a result of the kiss. [I love you, will always love you and you alone.] Purring so deep in her throat her entire body vibrated with the sound as she completed the declaration. One of her mechadendrites drew Ben's hands down to her breasts, the cantaloupe-sized orbs ripe and firm in his grasp. Every motion traced by the paws caused a shallow gasp and when a claw encircled the stiff nubs at their tips her entire body spasmed. Framed by the darkened bruises her eyes shone with affection so intense it was almost frightening.

[I love you too Ana,] he whispered directly into their shared soul and to his surprise it was the truth. When exactly it had happened Ben couldn't be sure but it had and more strongly than he could ever recall. A foreleg changed position to lessen the weight on her, touching something smooth and velveted.

[Ow, don't step on the wing.] She pulled back from the embrace a bit. Breaking off their kiss as she stretched and smiled. One hand moved to brush tears from her cheek and winced as it connected. Other aches and pains beginning to surface as she squirmed gingerly beneath him, still tied by his knot. "Ow, little rough weren't you?"

"She fought," Ben's face fell in chagrin, "maybe I got a little carried away." He extracted his shaft with all the gentleness mating had lacked, sliding off the smaller taur. "You're the most beautiful thing I've ever seen." Punctuating the statement with a quick nuzzle of the unbruised side of her face. Other than the change in color she was still the busty vixen he'd mounted.

"Nrgh," Anastasia stretched and yawned full length before rolling upright. [More careful next time please.] Huge moth wings rooted at her withers swept out from where they'd been folded against her back, brilliant under the overhead lights in metallic purple and green whorls.

"I need to get some clothes on before I forget why we're here and go back to fucking you simple."

"Am I really that distracting?" She rubbed her breasts against him suggestively.

"Maybe more," he groaned feeling a renewed tenseness about his hindquarters. She giggled and allowed her grip to slacken, lowering her forequarters back to the floor. Making it a game the playful femme sauntered over to the pile of clothes stripped from the body she now inhabited before their congress. As she bent to retrieve the rust colored uniform Anastacia flirted her long tail and gave him a view of her folds between sleek thighs. Ben counted to ten and buttoned the uniform blouse before tugging a pair of taur pants over his talons for the second time that day.

Garbed once again he began shoving things from the display that had provided clothing and body into his pockets. They could be identified later when the time was available. Grenades, power packs, bits of small technological devices all vanished into his capacious pockets. One figure in a ridiculous ornate uniform provided an outsize pistol, its broad leather holster barely able to fit around his waist. Anastacia reappeared from the center of the dais weaving sinuously between unawakened revenants. Only her blue head and tail projected from the voluminous robe and saddle blanket combo. Angular shapes and bulges poking out from underneath hinted at a lethal payload. Ben greeted his familiar with a short passionate kiss, thinking all the while how impossible it all was. Somewhere further into the maze toward the lower-tech sections McCray's voice raised in a short barking scream. Fuck me even her scream is sexy, then far more disturbing a sound mixing an infant wail and puppy's whine sounded.