FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

Life doesn't always treat a human in the most favorable of fashions, but he figures his could have handed him more grief if it had wanted to.

He wasn't really in any rush right now. Like most people he was a little eager to hop into his vehicle at the end of the work day. Like most people, he sighed as he sat down in his seat, dropping his bag on the passenger's, and tuned his vehicle's built-in radio to play some of his preset music, the same type of music he would listen to in high school and throughout college. As he started the car and drove out onto the side street beside his workplace, he figured that, like most people, he probably wasn't looking at more than a few hours to relax and recharge himself, before the next day likely presents him with more of the same.

It wasn't really until about the age of 15 that he noticed he wasn't necessarily normal, however. There was always a feeling of uneasiness, a little hint here and there. But nothing that really foreshadowed a certain autumn day, when his parents had left their home on a casual outing to a restaurant, and left him to himself to do what most 15 year-olds do when nobody's around...

That is, lounge around for most of the night and play the #1 rated video game to come out that year. He really had no intention of tackling the homework assignment handed to him by his English teacher; especially not when there's a fizzy drink at his side, and when the sound of bullets whizzing by blares in his bedroom, feeding his insatiable desire for blood, gore, and guts spread half a yard across. A simple life. There's always something to be said about the apathetic nature of a teenager, suppressing all thought of what their future will look like in a mere five years, living for the present in a way probably described fairly precisely on the B-side of a bad hip-hop album.

Seriously, who cares. The can of cola was nearly empty already and his match was conveniently coming to an end. With the sun gone and the only lights being the ones at his destination, he made his way to the kitchen in what he would remember as near-total obscurity. The lights over the counter had been left on, seemingly for his convenience. But as he approached, he noticed that they seemed to also draw his attention to a singular item laying on the surface.

A letter. Unfolded, unstained, but also unaccompanied by anything other than the pen used to write it. From afar, it seemed fairly terse, to the point where it probably could have fit on a mere post-it note. But as he closed in on it, noticing the meticulous handwriting, he couldn't help but think it would be inappropriate to draft this on anything of the sort.

"We'll always love you, son," it began, cryptically undertoning the rest of the letter. "But we had to make a difficult decision."

The boy set his can of pop on the countertop, rescanning the preface of this piece of paper a few more times with now-dilated pupils to ensure he had read things correctly. A sense of nervousness crept up within him. "We decided it would be best if we gave you a chance to grow without having to hurt you in the process."

A mild panic quickly surfaced, his thoughts suddenly miles away from the violent games he was so enamoured with a few minutes ago; instead, they were zooming at the speed of sound in the confines of his head, unable to parse exactly what he was reading. Why did his parents write this letter? He glanced over his shoulder swiftly, as if he expected someone to be creeping behind him, waiting for the letter to be read to completion before slicing his throat violently, leaving his body to then waste away on the floor. His heart started to race. Where were his parents? Why did they write this letter? Was he in any immediate danger? Why did they write this letter?

"Please don't make it harder. Don't look for us."

He felt sick to his stomach. He was going to puke. He just wanted to let go of the piece of paper and stop thinking. He was sweating hard, the back of his neck felt drenched already. What have they done? Why are they leaving? He just wanted to run back to his room right now. Focus.

"You're not like the others..."

No... This can't be happening... this can't be happening... The pressure was building inside his mind, the insane headrush maturing further and further. Everything was slipping away. His body was recessing. His humanity was recessing. Darkness was taking over.

"And I hope you'll understand..."

He could feel it now...

"I love you, Knox."

---

Breath. He came to again.

It doesn't often anymore, and when it does, it's still less intense than it used to be. Still, Knox was home in his driveway and couldn't remember the drive. That creeps him out.

He read online several times to get an idea as to why these flashbacks occur, although he never dared tell a doctor or therapist when the opportunity was there, even though a formal diagnosis would probably help. He had come to terms with those events a decade ago, and though he still resents his parents for abandoning him and leaving their only child, they were right to say that his plight with himself was best kept to himself. A part of him still wishes they were around to help him deal with it, however...

As he walked through the door of his home, lunch bag in hand, Knox hung his windbreaker and kicked off his shoes onto the mat just below. He noticed that only his shoes were present. "Guess no one's home," he noted internally.

Once out of the entrance area, he wondered casually what could be made for supper. It wasn't unusual for him to be eating ramen noodles, or a frozen dinner, or maybe even just a peanut butter sandwich; the townhouse he lived in was roomy but expensive, and after a string of bad luck with his employment status over the years, the thoughts of fancier living and luxury lifestyles sort of faded away many moons ago.

It didn't really come as a surprise that not being able to finish his high school degree at the same time as the rest of his age group put him at a bit of a disadvantage. He, of course, wasn't very employable without one. But even after completing it at a part-time pace with full-time responsibilities, it almost seemed like employers didn't envision that a 21-year-old dropout with little of anything to his name could be bondable and given the slightest of a chance. This was essentially the source of his resentment for his parents, the same people who were supposed to have given him a leg up on the abruptness of life! How could they justify leaving at such a critical point in his youth?

Knox flopped onto the living room couch. Suppressing those kinds of questions was what got him this far and what kept him relatively sane. No reason for him to abandon that strategy now. As his legs came up and onto the coffee table in front of him, he brought out his phone, probably around four years old now, and tried to divert his attention to the flurry of news articles, interesting TIL factoids, and the occasional animal video, which always touched him in a good way. Soon enough, he was zoned out and taking in droves of this media; consuming it was his own personal luxury, and he wasn't afraid to admit to that.

A picture which was a little more on the not-safe-for-work side showed up on his feed. He tried to keep a lot of it off of his phone, given that it makes browsing in public much more stressful than is necessary. And this was no ordinary picture, either: an anthropomorphic horse sitting on a press bench, wearing tight athletic shorts and showing off his rump in a bit of a teasing manner. Though Knox was into other men, the gym setting alone was enough to pique his interests; he never really had the spare funds to justify a membership, so he can only imagine what really goes on in those establishments. The mere thought of it began to turn him on, prompting him to search out more of this type of artwork.

These artists, or "furries" as they called themselves, seemed to share his interest in human-like creatures, and though he didn't really care to interact with the community, he did enjoy the byproduct. These people idolized the idea of animal people, creating alter-egos for themselves, dressing like their characters would, and other more sexual things that would corrupt the mind of an uninitiated internaut.

The thing is, these people were just fantasizing it. These people were wishing that these scenes depicted in many pictures and stories could happen to them. That they could live like them, act like them, breathe like them. For these people, the idea itself is so far detached from reality that they cannot possibly comprehend the full extent of what it entails, and how they could live, or act, or breathe as one of these beings.

But Knox was not one of those people.

He closed his eyes and focussed on himself, deep down into his conscious mind. He was looking for the trigger that would set off the most awesome thing about his otherwise useless shell of a human body. A grin appeared on his face as he located it, and felt the familiar wave of hormones rush out of his brain to the rest of his system. His muscles began to tighten, which meant that it was probably a good time to set his phone down onto the armrest, and begin thinking about taking some of his tighter-fitting clothes off; namely, his socks and pants at the very least.

Soon enough, he felt that his body was beginning to undergo physical changes. Still sitting, Knox tried his best to remove the worrisome garments, fighting back the effects of a full-body shiver that once would terrify him to no end. He was able to get everything aside from his shirt and underwear off before his skin began to crawl, a discoloration beginning to quickly appear all over, turning his skin from a beige-ish white to a white-ish orange. Soon enough, strands of fur in a slightly darker shade began to show along his arms and the exposed areas of his legs. This grew slowly at first, but quickly returned to him some of warmth he had lost taking off his clothes. Then, he felt the bones in his hands restructure to force his fingers to lengthen a bit, before his fingernails began to darken and meld with the incoming claws protruding from the tips, replacing the worthless stubs he was wearing a few short moments ago.

All of these were gradual changes, which allowed Knox to perform the rest of his undressing, passing his shirt over his head as his chest began to puff out. He started to feel stronger already, the muscles all along his back, abdominals, and legs strengthening significantly to support his future movements. He considered standing, so that he could feel weight on his now-thickened legs, but the changes in his feet were coming up next: their arches lengthened significantly, reminding Knox to quickly remove his boxer shorts before his claws would push out a little later. These didn't appear on his outer toes, given that they would soon be merged with their neighbours, leaving him with just three bulbous extremities tipped with sharp, keratin nails.

As his cock and balls were now exposed, the now-furred being began to eye them with desire, preparing to touch his still-human foreskin with his new paws -- until the changes around his head insisted on proceeding. His attention was brought to his face, now that it started to develop a much larger bridge for his new snout and nose, some fur generously blanketing this new muzzle. With this change he was less able to see his genitals in his current posture, but refrained from protesting for now, letting the continuous waves of pleasure close his eyes and take him over.

His ears had also been changing during this time, widening out and growing longer, to about twice the size of his head. He sighed as their insides finally shifted and transformed, increasing his sense of hearing dramatically. It seems that every time Knox would revert back to his human form, he would notice himself completely missing out on sounds he would have no problem listening for now. The opposite would be true when his eyes would change however, which disappointed him given that the rest of his body felt like a flawless improvement.

The other noticeable change was at his backside, an ever thickening and lengthening mass which was visibly forming his tail. It was only about a quarter of the way, and Knox was already able to move it about, almost instinctively; he could feel its full length, of which a third will span past his feet, and how capable and strong it would be. He needed to reposition himself onto his back in order to let it continue growing unimpeded, which brought attention instead to his now-matured pelt, made up of short furs all along his body.

Indeed, he was turning into his kangaroo form. 80 kilos of muscle, power, and strength. The feeling was one of pride every single time; his body was so much more superior in this state than any human being on the planet, even when considering just his tail. The amount of thrust he could get out of that thing could knock someone out cold!

Knox's attention was again turning back toward his junk though. Always the last to change, his balls would slowly rise and reform above his cock, his new fuzzy sack sagging slightly under its own weight -- though they would not sag very far, given that his foreskin would then thicken and stretch, shielding and hiding his changing cock within a furry sheath. It felt great to feel his tool transformed in such a way, and usually leads to him rubbing one out almost immediately after finishing his mutation.

Indeed, this time was no exception. His new tail swayed a bit, before resting lazily off of the couch he was laying on, the 'roo's paw grabbing his earlier discarded phone from the armrest, to be wrestled again for sweet, sweet porn.

He mindlessly scrolled through a gallery of hot, muscled animal people, their cocks hard and at attention. Thinking back to all those furries who draw and create these beings, Knox let out a sigh as he considered how many of them would kill to be able to change into an anthropomorphic kangaroo. This excited him, a soft murring escaping his gutturals, announcing to no one in particular of his satisfaction. If only these furries could see him and what he can do... the jealousy and envy would probably be too much for them to handle!

Meanwhile, Knox's paw transitioned toward his balls, those plump orbs almost beckoning to be touched. They were shown his new grip, as he squeezed them both in a teasing manner, enough to cause his toes to curl. He then gave them a little rub, as if to apologize and comfort the twin testicles: they rolled and parted softly during his motions, less so than their human counterparts would given that his sack was tighter in this form.

He enjoyed this type of play, but soon moved to his sheath. One of his claws circled and traced the outline of his entrance, tickling the sensitive area lightly. Knox allowed himself a pant, his ears twitching slightly as his phone located a new image, one of a wolf whose cock was just peeking slightly out of its sleeve, a little dab of pre indicating its horniness. The 'roo's own member was still hidden, but with a little more of his claw inserting itself down his skin, triggering a nice wave of pure bliss, he figured it wouldn't take too long to come out and play.

The finger felt around the circumference of his cock sleeve, feeling the nice heat entrapped within its depths. He shivered as he explored further down, trying not irritate it too much given that his precum was not yet available for use. The newly-formed kangaroo could not contain his tool much longer anyway as he felt a certain tightness form near his base, prompting his claw to retreat from its warm confines and opting instead to give the entire mass of fur a good firm squeeze.

Eventually, the dark pink tip of his dick showed, peeking out at its owner with a certain curiosity. Knox paid his 'roo member a glance for a moment, a quick dose of reality in opposition to the endless naked furries on his phone screen: as it began to crawl out of its home, its tapered nature became obvious, mimicking the shape of his feral counterparts' much more than a human's. Even more striking was the fact that it maintained a fair bit of dexterity -- as the kangaroo's cock grew further, Knox gave it a bit of a flex, it's shape curving slightly toward him in response. His member's prehensility was one of his favorite features, and he wasted no time in displaying this, curling it against his palm, its tip following along his middle finger. This brought him a fair amount of pleasure given that the lengthy rod was always nicely sensitive -- and his tail showed it, too, swaying on its own accord in response to the warm feelings felt along the body of his shaft.

He brought his left leg to a bend, his foot resting closer to himself on the couch. The marsupial straightened his tool and allowed his paw to obtain a firm grip on it, to give his shaft a bit more of a traditional pump. As he came back up with a squeeze, a drop of pre extracted from his tip, the little bubble of lubricating fluid showing just how pent up he had actually gotten over the course of his transformation. Knox chose to spread this down the length of his shaft, getting a okay first coating on his tapered penis. This allowed him to start pumping comfortably at a more continuous pace, keeping in time with some of the material he was browsing.

The more he pumped, the more pre would jump out of his pink rod to help. The feelings were getting rather nice at this point. Knox couldn't help but start edging a little bit whenever the pleasure started to creep up a little too much. As he edged, his hand would grip the base of his cock and sheath while the waves ran their course, the upper half of his shaft curling into more of a natural "S"-shape as it waits out the break in stimulation. This only caused the drool of precum to accelerate faster; the 'roo was now able to coat a majority of his penis in his own slick liquid, the prehensile thing glistening as it snaked around in pleasure. By this point, Knox was feeling pretty drunken with good vibes, his new nose picking up his own cock's very noticeable scent, and amplifying the physical feeling of having his marsupial dick well stroked.

Suddenly, he had an idea. Given that his cell was not really needed for the moment, he placed it up against his slick, tapered shaft, and flexed his tip to hold it upright, so that he can lean over to look underneath the couch. It was a stupid little trick he used to find fairly funny at times, but really, it's just plain useful in some cases. His hand sweeped the floor until it located an object hidden under there, and pulled it out to reveal a bottle of personal lube, with a convenient nozzle to dispense the stuff. Of course, the 'roo was not always recklessly implicating his couch when he felt like getting messy, but once in awhile never hurt anyone.

His tail swayed in anticipation as he squirted out a little bit of lubricant onto his paw, and brought the wad of liquid to his tailhole, inserting some lightly into his ass. A couple of squelching noises were made when his two fingers penetrated the orifice, carefully so that his claws would not cause harm, but with enough conviction so that he would be somewhat ready for what he wanted to do next. Once satisfied, his arched his tail over onto his chest, which allowed him to start coating its body with some more of the lube with both hands. The 'roo's tongue was sticking out of his maw now, his thoughts fogged partially by his actions with his tail, partially by the sexy anthro dolphin displayed on the phone still held up by his dexterous cock.

Finally, he set the lube aside, everything slick to his liking, and with a bit of manual aid, Knox helped the tip of his tail find his ass, still fairly tight despite the finger play. He pushed a little of it into him, feeling the first couple centimeters of his warm appendage enter his asshole. This drew a heavy sigh from him, his heart racing as he prepared to penetrate himself, something he only really did once in a blue moon. The kangaroo let go of his three-foot-long tail, as it was anchored enough into his backside at this point, and relaxed back against the armrest of the couch.

Once he grabbed his phone from off of his sheath, Knox focussed on his tail and lightly thrusted it further into himself, a moan escaping from his muzzle as his ears folded to the side in pleasure. "Mmrff..." he exclaimed, his tail doing all the work here while his hand started to move back toward his flexing cock, ready to give it a few rewarding pumps.

His rhythm progressed on both fronts: as Knox's tail pushed in and out of his tailhole at a more regular pace, his shaft was being stroked very nicely by the left paw, glistening even more thanks to his drooling urethra. He was so well coated in his own slimy liquids that he could probably have covered his tail with that stuff, instead of what came from the bottle.

The kangaroo was really getting warm from his tail at this point; he was squirming as much as his positioning would allow, and his toes were curling as far as a marsupial could curl them. The tapered nature of the limb was also ensuring a very nice progression the further he inserted it, given that it was much thicker at the base than at the tip. He let out a short moan as he thrusted it in a little further, its diameter really starting to stretch his tight pucker; but with his tail feeling so close to his prostate, Knox really felt the need to get that last little bit in.

If he was still human, he was sure he'd be sweating by now. His cock was aching for release at this point. The kangaroo chose to forgo his phone, focussing solely on his self-penetration: he lifted his right leg with his free hand, trying to get a bit more room to pull out and plunge his tail further in. The sloshing of the lube in his hole seemed to get louder with every attempt. He gasped as he almost hit his prostate with his own tail, then accelerated jerking his tool. He was really close to the edge now. "Fuck..." he whispered between breaths.

His 'roo cock was almost glued to his gripping paw, hugging it for all the friction it could provide in the final moments. Knox could feel the point of no return hitting him, with a giant haze flooding his body. His legs shuddered as he thrust his tail in one more time, stretching his ass to its limit to finally hit his prostate deep within him. "Aghh!" he yelped as he felt his orgasm finally hit him, his dick spraying cum all over his furry stomach and chest. Knox's free hand clawed into the leg it was holding in pleasure, his maw gaping wide as the next strand of seed nearly hit his chin. Even now, the kangaroo's tail was still trying to fill his hole as much as it could, the tip wriggling deep inside to help extract everything out of that powerful orgasm.

When the final drops of cum came out, Knox sighed heavily, his mind still racing from the rush. Once a sufficient amount of rest was had, he slowly pulled his tail out of its home, hovered it over the couch, and really flattened himself into the pillows holding him up. "What a ride," he thought. He grabbed the shirt from earlier and threw it beneath where his tail was hovering, so that it could rest without staining the fabric.

It was really remarkable that he was able to do anything like he what just he did; nothing like that would have been possible ten years ago when he was still purely human. He glanced at his spent cock, resting over his upside-down balls and onto his stomach, and gave it a little upward twitch so that its tip was pointing right at him. Knox loved this body. If he had the choice, he would never revert back to human form. In fact, in that very moment he realized it almost represented everything he hated about his life: his job, his bills, his expectations and aspirations, his family...

home

An arm of his came around to support his head, looking up at his popcorn ceiling. He wondered for the billionth time what they meant to accomplish by leaving. It's not as if they didn't know what he was, but clearly they knew something more. And it was mind-boggling that they didn't have the decency to write it in the damn letter before they vanished for good.

The 'roo then caught himself, clicking his tongue in disgust and flicking his tail. What's the use in trying to analyze this again? His foot slipped purposely onto the floor, resting it there while he grabbed his phone. That pink member of his was now firmly within his sheath again, so he swiped away the porn on his screen in favour of a news article he noticed on his feed.

He really felt like he was never actually going to find out what happened. Maybe that's for the best.

A noise was heard near the front of the house. His big ears swiveled as the deadbolt on his door thumped back into its cabin, followed by the swing of his front door. Knox lifted himself up a bit as the intruder made his way up the stairs: a male in a dress shirt, glancing over at him as he lay there, naked and exposed.

The man grinned as he saw the scene, allowing himself a little chuckle. "Were you having a little bit of fun or something?" he asked, approaching the 'roo.

Knox smiled back, embarrassed. "Maybe a little bit." He glanced at the lube bottle on the floor, figuring that the man probably put two and two together. "Sorry, I guess I was a little pent up," he added with a smile.

"Next time you should totally wait up for me," the man quipped. It was at this moment when he turned to head into the kitchen, that Knox noticed a long, dragon tail protruding from his rear, and dragging all along the carpet. "Maybe I would have wanted to go a little feral on your ass!"

The kangaroo felt a bit of a tingle in his sheath again at the sound of that. "Maybe you should just come home sooner, Drak. Then you'd have a better shot at catching a 'roo!"

"Doubt that, you little perv," Drak replied from the kitchen.

Knox smiled at his response, reseating himself again. He returned his attention to the article he was reading -- he figured that as long as he was able to enjoy his time as a kangaroo, the remaining time was probably worth the trouble, grief or not.