FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

This story was written for Catprog as part of my patreon request days for February. It contains TF and gender shifting. :3

[center][b][u]Welcome to the Family[/u][/b][/center]

Francis had always heard the stories. Tales of the ship with the lion rampant upon its bow spirit, descending upon smaller vessels and snatching up not only valuables, but crew too. It had always been told as a fantasy though. A mysterious tale used to frighten kids out of becoming sailors like their mostly absentee fathers. He had never believed that such a ship, or indeed such an impossible crew could ever exist. At least, not until they attacked.

The first he knew of the boarding was the sound of cannon-fire, followed by a cracking and wrenching of wood and iron nails as the bulkhead just above him was shattered by an incoming cannonball. Minutes later he was running onto deck, half dressed but ready to fight with cutlass drawn, only to see that he was too late. His crew was already being bound and gagged. Tall, lithe figures clad in smart blue jackets and dark trousers were already beginning to root around in the deck-based cargo areas, while more stood upon the edges of the ship, maintaining perfect balance with long, twitching tails as they held rifles pointed towards those members of the crew still free. People like him.

He dropped his sword, and was soon pushed to his knees by a sandy furred hand upon one shoulder, so strong that he swore it almost buckled and broke his legs before he could drop down of his own accord. Deep growling voices echoed around him as he knelt there in a haze, feeling manacles being clamped around his wrists and then another strong arm dragging him back to his feet. He only really snapped out of the daze he had been in from the moment the cannon-fire jolted him to wakefulness when a large and claw-bearing hand raised itself in front of his face and snapped its fingers sharply.

"Hey. Hey, are you okay?"

Francis looked up into the face of the figure addressing him. He was taller than all the others, and around his powerful muzzle filled with sharp, clean white teeth there sprouted a thick, lush mane of darker fur. He was impossible... and yet, he was right there, talking to Francis right now.

"W-what?"

The same hand that had snapped its fingers at him suddenly grabbed at his face, and Francis yelped it pain as he realised that he was bleeding. The lion turned his head from side to side, then let go of him and gestured to one of the other members of the crew.

"Just shrapnel. He'll be fine. So... yeah, might as well make it him."

He wandered off, but two more lions, one shorter male and one woman dressed in an identical uniform surged forward and grabbed him by one arm apiece.

"H-hey... wait. What are you..."

The female lion's free hand pressed itself against the base of his jaw and pushed upward, locking his mouth closed with apparent ease. She growled, and shook her head.

"We're doing exactly what you think. And there's no sense in arguing now. In a while, you'll be glad we did this. So just be quiet and don't fight us. We can mend broken bones... but we'd rather not have to."

Francis did as he was commanded. He was too terrified to do otherwise, not to mention shell-shocked both literally and indeed figuratively by the fact that not only were the stories of the leonine pirates true... but now he was part of that story too, as one of their victims. He shuddered in fear as he was dragged along with relative ease, shedding more than a few tears as he was pulled off his ship and onto the one moored alongside theirs, substantially bigger and more impressively regaled in every possible respect. Rather than being dragged below deck though, to some prison or other equally horrific fate, he was thrown down upon the deck itself. Left with his face pressed to the planks below, too terrified to move for fear of being beaten for disobedience, until a heavy pair of boots landed in front of him.

"Well now. So glad you could join us."

It was him again. The huge lion with the tricorn hat. The Captain. Slowly, whimpering and sniffling in helpless fright, Francis began to lift his head. Too slow though, and with a yelp of shock he was dragged upright by a strong hand upon the back of his shirt.

"You don't need to be afraid you know. Not any more."

He couldn't bare to look up even when standing, couldn't stand to meet the gaze of his captor for even a second. If the Captain was offended though, he didn't say as much. His deep rumbling voice just kept echoing inside the poor human sailor's head, increasingly bassy and echoing, almost soothing in how it seemed to surge through him.

"This is your home now. And soon, you will come to realise that it always has been. You were just... [i]waiting[/i]. Waiting for us to find you."

The backs of Francis' hands were itchy. He reached down to scratch them, but the sensation only intensified. Only one thing provided him with relief from the almost painfully intense tingling sensation. The Captain's voice.

"All your life you've known something was missing. Something was wrong. Have you not? It might have manifested as an uncertainty. As fear. As disillusionment or frustration with the world around you."

A part of Francis wanted to say that this was true of everyone. Another part of him however wanted to break down in tears and agree. A third part just wanted his hands to stop itching, and now his face too. He scratched at his face. At his hands. He looked down at his hands, and yelped in horror as he saw tufts of sandy fur springing forth from the backs of them, growing and spreading before his eyes.

Reeling backwards, he stumbled and fell. He caught himself though, landing rather agilely upon his wrists and breaking the fall with ease. Now that he was down though, he stayed that way. He knelt and clutched at his face, and felt the same thick fur spreading across his features too. But... there was something more than that. It wasn't just his face sprouting fur. It was the shape of his face. Changing beneath the touch of his fingers. Elongating. There was no pain, barely any sensation at all in fact, but... the fact he was aware, the fact he knew it was happening made it agonising in its horror.

"Don't be afraid. This was always meant to be. This ship... it is drawn to people, and they to it. Once it was considered cursed. But we now know the truth, that it is a blessing to all who travel upon her. A blessing now bestowed upon you."

Looking down at his half dressed body, Francis wailed as he saw fresh fur spreading over his legs. His feet shifting, toes spreading out and the feet themselves growing shorter, thicker overall. He gasped in surprise as he felt something squirming under the shirt he had draped over his torso, only half buttoned up. A few moments later, a tail sprang free and swept back and forth over the waistline of his britches, briefly clad only in pink flesh but soon being covered in its own fur with a tufted, darker brown tip. His hands began to shift in shape now, pads springing from the palms, claws forming from his fingernails. It was all happening so fast, it made his head spin. It shouldn't be possible... and yet, the more he listened to the Captain's words, the more sense it all made. The less terrifying, and more soothing it seemed.

"You are one of us."

But he wasn't. He was Francis. He was a sailor aboard a merchant trading vessel run and operated by the East India company. He... he was...

"You are family. You are kin. You are home now."

Home.

God, he wanted to be home.

And, if this place could be that... somewhere safe. Somewhere he was loved...

"You are renewed. Reborn. Who you have always been, deep inside. Our crew mate. Loyal, and brave."

Francis clutched a hand to their chest, feeling their heart racing as their body grew. As they became taller. More muscular. They swelled with pride. With certainty that had been lacking in them before not just with regard to this, but all things.

And along with her pride, her chest swelled, stretching at the buttoned up shirt in which it was bound. Thick lush brown hair cascaded down her shoulders. She cried out again in shock, but not unpleasantly so. All of a sudden she was remembering something she didn't know that she'd ever forgotten, or known to begin with.

She was a woman.

Of course she was. How could she ever have thought anything else?

She was Francis. She was a sailor aboard the Leonine Hunter. She was back where she belonged now, though in a strange way, it was as though she had never left. She looked around, gasping as the changes finalised their spread throughout her body, and saw so many familiar sights. Not just the parts of the ship she knew as well as the back of her own hand, but the other members of the crew too. Watching her. Smiling. Nodding in approval, in encouragement as they saw her regard them.

And then of course, still talking to her slowly and deeply and with the utmost reassurance, Francis turned her gaze to her Captain.

She stood straight. She saluted him.

He growled in pride, and saluted back. With his other hand he gestured forward, and immediately a lion ran out with a selection of garments in his hands.

"Your uniform."

Francis took it, nodding in genuine gratitude to the other lion, then looking up at her Captain once more. She met his gaze. His ancient, perhaps a little world weary, but nonetheless comforting gaze.

"Thank you, Captain. I... I will do my best to earn it."

The Captain chuckled, and looked around the ship's desk. To the several dozen uniform clad lions, men and women alike all powerful and proud, all gathered to watch the newest member of their family come aboard.

"You already have, Francis. And for as long as you choose to remain here with us, I am sure every action you undertake will be in the best interests of the ship, and bring honour to its crew, and its uniform alike."

Again Francis nodded. Again she saluted. But... this time, there was a slight note of confusion in her mind about one particular thing her Captain had said.

For as long as she chose to remain here.

She had only just returned. Only just rediscovered this place. Her home. Her family.

Why would she ever choose to leave?

Why would she even think of such a thing?

Of course, she admired her Captain for at least giving his crew the choice. But... amongst a family, amongst a band of brothers and sisters such as this one which she knew and loved so dearly, why would anyone ever want to be anywhere, or anything else?

By Jeeves

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