FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

I've become used to my situation, my punishment.

I've accepted that there is no rescue coming for us. I've accepted that I will likely never see my father again, and that my mother and brother have turned themselves over to the sinful ways of this island. I've accepted that the natives, strange as they are, will force me to watch their every interaction, and continue to torture me for things beyond my understanding.

I have not, however, accepted the union between my sibling and parent as one that I approve of. The sin is still there, even their minds are poisoned, even if their bodies are transformed. My mother is a fat, breeding hag, and my brother, a muscular, twisted monstrosity who seems to live only to fulfill her forbidden, sexual needs.

For me to even have such thoughts was gut-wrenching, before. To think I came to this island on a religious mission, to spread the good word, only to be indicted into what could be called a 'local religion.' These natives are convinced that my mother is the new birth mother of their people, that somehow, she is their goddess, connected to the bringing of some kind of monstrosity into this world. They cannot speak English, and they cannot be swayed away from their beliefs. I have tried...and I have failed.

At least I can say that I did the best that I could. At least I gave it everything that I had before I was captured, and first forced to witness the disgusting copulation between my brother and my own mother...to see the very passage that I was birthed from being defiled by another who came through it...

It's still more than I can bear to think of, but the natives make sure, each and every night, that my thoughts will pale in comparison to the reality.

Each night, as the moon passes over the small clearing in this fetid jungle that we now call home, the natives give my brother some kind of drink. Each time he consumes it, he looks a little less human, from the color of his skin fading to a sickly green, to the way that his muscles bulge without any symmetry. Though I know I shouldn't look, I do notice that his genitals are unusually large, and seem to have twisted in some odd ways...his shape is certainly not that of a human male anymore, I can attest.

Every time the natives approach, I fear for my purity. They've left me naked permanently, and I know that they admire and gaze upon my body, but they only ever keep me bound and force me to watch the incestuous act, as if they believe that seeing it enough times will cause me to willingly be a part of it.

They've truly underestimated me for that, and if freedom should ever find us, it will be a cold day in hell before I allow anyone off of this island alive. I don't care if it isn't the 'right' thing to do...what they've done to us is more wrong than can ever be forgiven in a church, and confessing it should not be enough to absolve their sickening ways.

My faith is certainly being pushed to the limits, and I do hope that I can resist my breaking point. I only wish that there was something I could do to free my family from this spell and return them to their former glory. The pain of witnessing such a fall...may be more than I can take for much longer.

Thomas...Mother...this night, please, resist the urges of the bitter potion, ignore the coming of the moon, and return to what you once were.

**

I awake with a start. As usual, the natives have no manners about waking me...they push and shove me until I respond, and once again, they've come to adjust my bondage and ensure that I see my family acting in a most lewd way. Each time, I hope and pray that it's the final time, but so far, I've had no such luck, and as my strength continues to whittle away from being bound to this god-forsaken post, I wonder if my brother or my mother care at all about my health, in all of this.

They're clearly detached from reality, and I wonder, as I watch the natives presenting my brother with a drink, if this was something that was within them all along. The first few nights, my brother resisted, but now, some months into this treatment, he willingly, and in fact happily takes the offered drink and immediately chugs it, without remorse or care. He's hellbent on making love to my mother, right in front of me.

Were they always this way? Was there a hidden, incestuous affair that my father and I didn't know about?

The way my mother spreads her disgustingly, unsightly legs and opens up her inhuman sex to him, I do honestly wonder, and I wish that I didn't. I wish that my mind would remain strong, but I feel that the natives can see me starting to slip, and I can hear what sounds like quiet chuckles spreading through the crowd as the nightly show begins.

I've seen it nearly a hundred times by now, and somehow, it is a little bit different, each time.

In a lot of ways, they still act like humans. I watch as my brother grips the very base of his strange, twisted manhood and begins to stroke it. No doubt, the potion has already spread throughout his body, and before, I would pretend that it was the sole reason that any of this was possible, or that it happened. Now, I've begun to accept that this is just the way that they are, and the potion is likely a formality or some kind of ritual.

It certainly has no effect on the way that my brother dives into the flesh of my mother and latches onto her. Her body, transformed as it is, is more like an amorphous lump with somewhat discernible limbs, and her breasts sag far more than I would expect a man to enjoy, but my brother hungers for them so that he latches on like a newborn child. Even from my small distance, I can hear the slick, wet suckling of his lips sealing around her nipples and going at them with such intensity that I fear he believes milk may actually still flow from them.

Given the way that she's been changed, I suppose it is entirely possible.

My mother throws her head back. She moans with delight, one that is even more twisted than before, as she knows I'm forced to watch, and every so often, she turns her attention to me, to make sure that I can see every forbidden detail. Her arms can scarcely move, but with them, she presses her fingertips against the edges of her womanhood and spreads it, enticing my brother and in some way, taunting me.

Perhaps she believes that by rubbing it in my face, I'll become jealous, but I remain steadfast, even as I regretfully see the growing length of my brother's cock between her thighs. I can hear my own thoughts becoming truly lewd in nature as I watch, and the years of schooling that forced me to think with higher intelligence and proper words starts to go to the wayside...my family is entirely broken and corrupted...

...Why, then, should I be an exception?

Trying desperately to ignore such a thought, I worry as I feel a mild tingling in the pit of my tummy, traveling down and past my womb, right into the bare, exposed flesh of my sex; the natives do keep me very clean, and not a single fiber of hair is allowed to sit upon my crotch. It keeps my labia very well exposed to the cool trade-winds of the island, and in a different situation, that might be a beautiful thing, if I were here with the man of my dreams, or perhaps, my future husband.

Instead, I am stuck here with my mother and brother, watching as the muscular beast that is my sibling pounds his hips forth. I can hear their sickening moans, and the wet, sticky sound of his manhood plowing into her parted folds over and over again. They have an endurance that betrays their human bodies, and the ritual, on the longest nights, takes more than an hour. Whether that's all one climax or not, I can barely be sure, but fluids continue to spill from my mother's cunt, and clearly, not all of them are hers.

I know little of human sexuality, I'm not loathe to admit; before I ever came to this island, however, I knew enough to know that seeing such a yield out of a male isn't normal. For most men, it shouldn't even be possible, but my brother's yield is both impressive and overwhelming, as it carries with it a scent that is almost as much of an aphrodisiac as the act itself, an act that continues in front of me. My brother grips my mother by the breasts and uses them as leverage to plant his feet on the ground, taking a slightly different angle...perhaps the act is more pleasurable for her, that way?

Based on her sudden, howling moans, it certainly is, and as my own sibling, Thomas, pounds his hips forth with inhuman vigor and wildly fucks my mother, I can see the natives getting eager once again, as they think the end of the nightly ritual is approaching.

They are wrong, despite my wishing they were right. For whatever reason, this night, my body continues to draw closer to giving in to the kind of corruption that they hope I will, and I do all that I can to resist it, never wanting to look anything like my mother does now, and still holding onto the belief that even seeing my family engaged in such an act will damn my soul to hell.

The temptations of my flesh, however, tend to disagree, and I can feel small trickles of forbidden wetness beginning to spill down the insides of my thighs as the act continues. There is no wasted motion: every act is meant for the pleasure of one party or another, from the way that Thomas' balls swing into my mother's ass each time that his drives his hips forward, to the way that her hands grip around his buttocks and squeeze them to inspire a greater ferocity out of him.

He already works with such a force that I can't imagine the sex would be anything but painful, but my mother can take all that my brother has to offer. In a sickly way, the display is actually impressive, as I worry each and every night about the safety of my family members, but they continue onward, knowing that they're starting to get to me.

The natives have taken notice, too; my secret is out, and already, I can feel the trails of my wetness sneaking down past my knees, as they knock into each other. A struggle to preserve my modesty would be a waste of my time regardless, as my body is nude all the same, and my nipples stand firm and at attention. Though it has taken months, the natives have finally driven my body to a point of sexual starvation so great that I actually lust to interact with either my sibling or my parent...I simply need some kind of a touch, and I expect that the natives themselves may deliver on such a thing.

They're all males, and certainly, they're equipped to handle such a job. I expect them to finally have their way with me, though, at this point, I know that I would be consenting to such an act. My body would be willing to be ravished, and I watch as I see a few tiny drops of my natural lubricants falling down into the dirt. They immediately dry up on small leaves that act as my bed, and I try to cling to the wisps of shame that leave my body, but they take with them only their own essence...my shame is gone, as I turn my eyes back to the incestuous display, lit by the bright, burning fires of the clearing.

My brother holds his own mother tight to his chest as his hips slam into her body. Her excess quakes with his force, and I can hear the nearly animal growls and grunts of passion from his lips as she begins to orgasm around his impressive length. It is a weird looking organ after the transformation, but a sight to behold nonetheless, and one that I find myself lusting after, despite my mind knowing it to be wrong; my body ignores such things. The shame of the first world is left behind, with only the natural pleasures that my body desires to be sated, and though my mother now pants with exhaustion and slumps in the afterglow of the act, my brother doesn't seem to be finished, and the natives are escorting him over to me.

Though shame once forbade such an act, my mind is giving up the fight, as I gaze down upon his twisted, bulbous cock, still dripping with the excess, feminine juices of my mother's own cunt. Shockingly, I don't care. I lick my lips and wait to feel the strange shape inside of me, knowing that I will finally know a release from the lust that has driven my sanity away.

Again, I am wrong, and it pains me to know as I watch the natives hold him still. Thanks to the monstrosity of a body that they've given him, they find it a hard task, but a few are able to keep him in place as they stroke over the length of his cock. The display continues to drive me insane, and my loins ache with a terrible need as I watch precious precum spilling down into the dirt and drying away before I even have a chance to smell it, much less taste the exquisite juices on my tongue.

My brother is my entire world, as I watch the show, and though I begin to fear that penetration will never come, I pray that I won't be denied everything that he has to offer. He continues to grunt as he gazes over me and reaches out to me, clearly lusting after me...I can't help but grin at the thought. The playful smirk is wiped right from my lips, however, as the very tip of my brother's cock bulges in front of me, and the pent up seed of his transformed body is sprayed across my nude figure, coating me from the tops of my breasts to the slim navel of my tummy...the excess spills down the front of my thighs, and a few last, ferocious sprays of cum land right upon the exposed lips of my womanhood, leaving me to wince with delight, but ultimately, be let down from the release that I was hoping for.

The natives have done their work, and my brother's body is too exhausted to carry on. Still bound to the pole, I writhe against my restraints, willing to do the work myself and mount him, but I simply can't break free. I'm trapped, ever and more, and before the sticky ejaculate has come to dry on my flesh, I can feel a crawling under my skin. My breasts feel heavy, and my rump, particularly tight, as I strain against my bondage.

My skin begins to turn color, ever so slowly, and I realize what fate my lust has brought to me...