FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

Just blackness and the grey outlines of half-seen rocks, for as far as the eye could see. A barren, empty world of stone and void... or a miner's dream. Depending upon your perspective.

He tended towards the former. From the comfortable gel-capsule of his scout-ship, where his physical form sat immersed and theoretically (if not actually) comfortable, he received the condensed, combined, abstracted data of his small ship's sensors in scalable, impossibly-detailed glory.

Yet no matter what spectra you looked at it through, no matter how you panned, zoomed, abstracted, decompiled, re-perspectived, respectra'd or recombined, it was still just a bunch of mostly-iron rocks, half visible in the dull grey light of a distant star, set against the maddenly bright and busy background of space.

It was a grandoise spectacle of soul-crushing dull. Yet this was what his life had come to.

A mediocre military career in pointless, money-driven brushfire wars had left him with the skills and cranial implants that he had no use for in the majority of civilian life, a misanthropy that had pushed him further from that babbling sphere of inanity and out into the oort clouds of silently, newly-colonised systems.

Equipment Neural Interfaces were expensive. Standardised Operational AI's even more so. Prospecting and salvaging companies just loved picking up vets like him, who already had a wealth of internal gear, years of operational experience and a willingness to work long hours at the edges of no-where.

So here he was. Flying a small, cut-price scout-ship that was barely worth of the name, making a course correction every hour, surveying a grand wealth of nothing.

The sensor returns echoed in his mind like sonar waves, spalling waves of lines of information as they went. Iron, feldspar, iron, crap. Nothing worth a damn bit of comission. He'd be lucky to pay for his vehicle's reactor fuel on this expedition, let alone his maintenance upkeep, let alone the downpayment he needed to make just to keep the privelege of flying this clunky, flimsy piece of crap.

It was definitely a bad day. Nothing unusual about that. In fact, this had been every day for the past three months. He didn't even want to think about his accounts.

If he wasn't disconnected from his floating physical form, he would have sighed then. His mind was beginning to drift and his was doing the equivalent and looking away when suddenly one of the returns came back sharp.

Steel. Small, sharp, distinct and not alone. Reflexively he autotracked the source. Finer elements began to resolve. Copper, tunsten, hydrocarbons...

If he were sitting, he would have sat up. Felt as though he might almost have smiled.

Artificial and organic elements. He might have struck lucky. He might have found a ship! Probably a derelict, hopefully not a naval vessel. He really hoped it wasn't a naval vessel. A finders fee for a nationalised wreck was a pittance compared to the haul of refined material a private derelict would bring.

It was nestled in a crevice on the dark side of a nearby asteroid. Unconsciously, he had already plotted the course to bring him round and about for a direct view and a clearer scan. He confirmed the course immediately.

The sensation of acceleration was all but imperceptible, buried under a rush of anticipation. The great, stoney grey bulk of the asteroid loomed, promising maintenance fees, alcohol, comfort.

He wondered what kind of shape it was in. Whether it was merely split open on the rock, smashed like an insect on an ancient vehicle's hull, or smeared into a fine paste, even fused and compacted with the asteroid. He hoped it was more intact; more valuable.

His surprise was total when he swung around the rock and his sensors showed him a whole and intact profile. It couldn't be right. He reflexively turned on his spot light, illuminating the contact in visible spectra.

There it was, a previous-generation small military transport, a troop-lander. Unmarked, intact, seemingly inert.

His mind raced along with his eyes and sensors. No markings, no naval designation, but residual signs where they used to have been. It was a surplus vessel. Enthusiasm rose, tempered by caution. The fifty-metre vessel was worth a fortune! It looked damn near intact!

There was no ion trail and there were no energy emissions - he would have detected those a hundred thousand kilometers ago. There wasn't even the suggestion of a residue. It had to have been here for quite some time. Years, even.

Then again, it was an ex-military ship. He reigned in his enthusiasm. He could see the energy baffles on the hull, the EM profile thinners, the stealth plating. None of which had prevented his ship's short-range passive gravimetric mineral scanners from detecting the ship's materials.

His heart almost skipped a beat. Had he stumbled into some pirate's hiding place? ...or worse, some military secret? Some covert project?

No... no. He was still alive and the ship seemed as inert as ever. If someone meant him harm, they would have put an iron slug through his paper thin hull kilometers ago.

The transport sat, immobile, inviting, seemingly intact.

He would have taken a deep breath, if he could.

The stealth plating was a problem. With fuzzy definition meant for locating ore seams in mine-able quantities, his mineral scanners were no help at all in determining, beyond the very broadest of strokes, the contents of the ship. He had no idea what the interior was like. The ship could be a gutted shell or it could be ready to fly away.

He thought quickly and recalibrated his mineral scanner, set it for finer bands... With a sensation like squinting too hard, he peered closer into the interior's composition. Nitrogen, oxygen, carbon dioxide... and from the density, in gas form, at a livable temperature.

Unconsciously grinning in his goo-pod, he looked for the Iniversal Docking Collar. Found it. Instructed the autopilot to bring him in, instructed the ship to start reconnecting him to his physical form and to prepare the ejection procedure.

If his ship's sensors wouldn't tell him through the plates, he'd just have to go in there and check it out for himself.

His mind entered something like a daze as automatic procedures took over and temporarily quietened his mind. All the safer for unjacking him from the ship. He swam into unconsciousness.

* * *

When he blinked and awoke, he started coughing and spluttering, like usual. Like usual, he tipped forward and smacked his head off of the thin airlock door. He barely felt it by now, just concentrated on retching up the goop he had swallowed. It was supposed to be good for you, but he didn't buy it. He'd been lying in there for a week.

He reflexively ducked back, trying to avoid floating globules of pod-goop, only to realise they weren't there. Just a second later to realise that he was actually standing on the bottom of his tiny airlock chamber, with his back to the semi-solid pod membrane. There was gravity on the ship.

The asteroid wasn't that big. The gravity had to be artificial. Artificial gravity meant main power was online. That could mean...

Naked, but unconcerned, he quickly and uncerimoniously wrested his emergency sidearm from its too-small compartment. The low velocity slug-thrower unfolded and clicked into operability with quick, practised movements.

He didn't waste any time. He hit the door release and shouldered the airlock door at the same time.

His big, muscular, gene-enhanced musteline form spilled out of the small scout-ship and into the receiving airlock quickly. The air hit him, cool, sharp, breatheable, as he fell.

He hit the ground shoulder first and smoothly rolled until he could plant his feet and rise, pistol at the ready.

Nothing. Just a dark corridor. The inner airlock was already open. Funny, he thought he'd have to force it.

Dull green emergency lights burned and the ship softly thrummed with working systems on low power. He frowned.

From the feel of it, life support was working, yet there was no-one here to meet him.

The ship seemed derelict, but that couldn't be. Without manual intervention, the ship should have progressively shut itself down after a month, tops.

Then again, he mused, when they built this thing, they built to last. He looked at the heavy bulkheads, the thick doors, the simple lights, the big, solid controls - buttons and levers, not a touch array amongst them. The construction was solid, reliable, permanent.

He began forwards slowly, moving smoothly, his clawed feet making not a simply noise upon the deck.

He peered at the first doorway he came to. It was clearly marked. Toilets.

He allowed himself a smile. This could be the find of a lifetime. If this ship worked, he had it made. It had atmosphere... and a toilet you could use like a gentleman. He briefly entertained the notion of programming his scoutship to head into the nearest asteroid at full acceleration.

So transfixed was he by the notion of a real toilet, that he seemed to forget years of training and experience, hard lessons, painfully learned.

He heard the chuckle come from a doorway he'd wandered right past without checking.

He span in an instant, gun already pointed at the source.

Then fell. As if his spine had just switched off. If his face hadn't just lost the ability to express, it would have looked very stupid.

He fell on the deck, winding himself whilst his head on his side, his mouth open, drooling.

By chance, his eyes were angled upwards, towards the grinning, gleaming blue face.

Clad in an ill-fitting white coat, she was big. Almost as big as him, with bold lupine features wearing a cruel smirk. She chuckled at him again. The light danced against her unusual skin as her expressive features moved.

The Wolf-woman was furless and instead seemed to be coated with a substance like latex. It shone in the light, coloured a very artificial blue. He'd seen a lot of a borg-jobs in the military (he'd gotten off light himself) but he'd never seen anything like that.

Unable to blink or breath, his consciousness began gradually to fade to black. It should have hurt, but it didn't.

"Well well," she said, growling hungrily, her voice oddly accented, "Aren't you just what the doctor ordered?"

* * *

He woke open again, reflexively drawing a deep breath and squirming. His wriss and knees immediately felt the metal bite into them and with a loud metallic clank, he bounced back down into a lying position.

He blinked rapidly as he found himself looking into a light just above his head. He turned his head away and looked around.

He saw her a second later, standing past his feet, leering, grinning.

Panic subsiding, only to be replaced by very rational fear, he realised that he was strapped onto a bench, disarmed and still naked. Globules of pod-goo still clung to his hide.

The room was small, dark and covered with techonology, stinking of medical chemicals and festooned with equipment he knew he would never understand. It reminded him of somewhere though.

He didn't have time to dwell on it. His attention was grabbed by the latex-covered Wolf-woman standing at the bottom of the bench, leering over him.

"Oh, you're with me now?" she asked, with an oddly deep girly giggle.

He frowned and raised his head, looking right at her. "Who are you?" he asked, then coughed.

"I'm Doctor Wuulf," she said with a grin, "...and you, my fortunate guest..?"

"None of your business," he grumbled back, "What did you do to me?"

The Wolf-woman smirked at him, "Oh come now," she said brightly, "With such ancient hardware? I am surprised that little children do not hack into you for fun at marketplaces."

His frown didn't budge. Last he checked he had pretty advanced military tech in his head. It had been serving him pretty damn well so far.

"Let me go," he said simply.

The Wolf womans eyes lit up as though she had been tickled, "Oh!" she declared, then leant forward, putting a surprisingly strong paw on his shin, "Oh... no," she said, grinning toothily. "You are a tresspasser, don't you know?"

"This ship looked like a derelict to me," he said quickly, not one to often explain himself, "You were doing a good job of making it look that way."

The Wolf shook her head, making exaggerated tut-tut noises. "So a woman of science tries to make a little privacy for herself and you think this is an open invitation to come on in, maybe help yourself to something?"

"I told you," he said, "I thought the ship was abandoned."

"You didn't call," said the Wolf, "You didn't ask, you just came on in."

He grunted and almost bit his lip. It's true, he didn't try hailing the ship. "This ship has obviously been here for some time," he said, "Why would anyone park on an asteroid for years?"

"Why would that be any of your business, mister 'None-of-your-business,' hmmm..?" said the Wolf.

He frowned, "My point is that this ship looked to all intents and purposes, abandoned. Under Interstellar Salvage Law, I had right to board."

The Wolf woman laughed and tutted again. "You might be right if you had even attempted to contact me and find out, but you did not. You simply crept up on my unsuspecting little ship and initiated emergency docking! There is a word for that..." she grinned and leered in at him, her many big teeth gleaming in the multicoloured lights of instruments. "Piracy," she said at last, with relish.

"I'm not a Pirate," he said, firmly.

"Oh," she said chuckling, "but I think you are. I think you were here to do nefarious things to poor Doctor Wuulf and her little ship."

"I was-" he began.

Suddenly her paws slammed down on the metal bench to either side of his hips, shaking him. She leered in close, her nose close to his. "You are MINE," she said, "under Interstellar PIRACY Law, Mister None-of-Your-Business."

He frowned. "I'm not a pirate," he repeated firmly, though his nerves were beginning to betray him.

She laughed in his face. "You have transgressed against me, legally," she said, "Now I can do as I like with you."

"I-" he began.

Suddenly she pulled away, speaking over him, "It's really quite fortunate you know!" she said brightly, pacing around the room, "For both of us, you know?" She giggled to herself, "There's only so far I can take my research with only my single body to test upon... you know..?" She trailed off, suddenly.

His blood froze. "Test upon?" he repeated, worry creeping into his voice.

She turned, seeming to rotate upon the spot until she was facing and grinning at him. "Oh yes," she said quietly.

"Hang on," he said, then paused, momentarily at a loss for what next to say.

He was answered by an insane giggle. Suddenly she was up next him, moving with quick strides across the deck. "No," she said, giggling again, "I will not hang on. I have been developing wonderful things here... in my santum," she said, suddenly sounding light on breath as she looked over him. "The sanctum you have violated, you..." suddenly she placed a heavy paw on his chest and slowly stroked down down, "You.. who are just perfect for my needs." She stroked down to his thigh, which she gave a painful squeeze.

"I think you've been out here too long," he muttered, "I think you might just have the space crazy."

She giggled again, high and happy, then looked around at him, predatory fires burning in her eyes. "So you are here to for that for me eh? My pirate?"

"Look, you're not well..." he muttered uncertainly, worriedly.

"Ohohoh, no I'm not," she said putting paws to his body, seeming to stroke the definition of each muscle group, with a touch somewhere between affection and measuring caliper, "but you are going to help me... oh yes..."

"Listen lady," he said.

"DOCTOR," she correctly sharply, suddenly. He felt as much as saw her teeth.

"Doctor lady," he stammered, "I don't know what you have in mind, but this is a misunderstanding. You can't just... do whatever to me."

"Oh, but I can," she said, suddenly standing up straight, "Oh, but I will," she said, suddenly pulling off her white coat, the buttons flying to ping off of equipment across the room.

She stood before him then, leering Wolfishly with her body exposed. There was nothing under her white coat. It turned out that the blue latex like substance covered her entire body... and what a body it was. She was built heavy and strong, but with smooth tones and with little fat in evidence. Everything gleamed in the low light, especially her great, rotound breasts and nut-cracking hips.

Despite the situation, the sight briefly robbed him of his intelligence. Blood was redirected at once. With a grimace, he tried to control the impulse. It had been a while...

"Mmmhmmm," she growled, "I see the conflict on your face, I think you should not fight it," she said, leaning over him.

He looked up wide eyed as the great, swaying blue orbs hovered just over his chin. He couldn't help but stare. He couldn't think of anything to say.

"Ahah..." she said, suddenly reaching down to grasp his warming member, "I just knew you were what I needed..."

"Look," he managed to say, "I think you're moving a bit quickly..."

"Science has no time to waste," she growled at him, then leant forward.

Before he could utter another word, he found himself smothered by the great blue orbs as they pressed into his face. All the while she groped at him with surprisingly dextrous fingers, heavy Wolf digits stroking and fondling him oddly... it was skillful, pleasant, but it still felt oddly as though he was being measured, evaluated.

By the time he had regathered his wits enough to struggle his head free and breathe again, he was fully hardened within her grasp. He was surprised at himself. He thought he had more self control, but apparently it had been far too long.

"Heyyy..." he said lamely.

"Heyyyy..." she repeated, with a grin.

He was about to say, 'Look,' or something of that nature and try to engage her in conversation, anything to buy his surprisingly hormone-addled mind some breathing room.

Yet suddenly she leapt up and upon him. He groaned at the heavy impact that caused the metal bench to creak and groan. She panted wantingly. Her flesh was smooth, supple and firm. Her weight was just on the right side of manageable.

"Dammit," he managed to mutter, desperately wondering aloud as his blood surged, "Why am I so horny?"

"Hahah," she said, grinning toothily, "Just the first of the upgrades."

"Upgrades!?" he said, frowning. He knew he ought to be angrier then he felt.

"Of course," she said, reaching up to stroke his head, "Such obsolete firmware does not befit you... do not worry, my sweet subject, no-one else will be hacking you from now on. No-one but me."

"You can't just..." he began, but tapered off a little when the Wolf-woman began grinding her moist vaginal lips against his hard member, he groaned a little, then rallied, "You can't just mess with someone's head."

"Why not?" she said brightly, rhetorically, not waiting for an answer, "You like it."

"I don't like it," he grumbled, "When people mess with my head."

A look like sadness and empathy entered the Wolf-woman's big eyes. She leant forwards suddenly, burying his face in breasts up to his cheeks as she stroked his temples. "Well do not worry my sweet. My upgrades will protect you from now on... and I am done messing with your head."

"Reassuring," he muttered, muffled, from between the great rippling orbs.

"Now I must collect my initial empirical data!" she declared.

"What!?" he managed to mutter out.

"For science!" she declared, then with a shift of her great thigh muscles that bordered on tangibly geologic, she thrust herself down his body at his cock.

At first it was like pushing against a beach ball, then a moist beach ball, then with a feeling like a squeaking slide, he was pushing into her crushingly tight, yet perfectly yielding depths.

He groaned in pleasure. It had been a long time indeed and it had never been like this. As each inch of his cockflesh slipped in, it was squeezed perfectly from the sides, as if it were a virginal hole, yet yielded to entry with no crushing slowness, no catching friction, as if this were the hole of an expert.

He almost blew his load right then. "Ahah!" she said suddenly and gripped down with incredible tightness. His eyes went wide again.

Squeezed so, there was no chance of ejaculation, no movement of blood. It was a medically perfect grip... and she didn't relax it until his near peak had almost entirely slipped away.

"What the fuck!?" he managed to question aloud.

"I need more data!" she declared, "Soon enough!"

He almost said, 'Fair enough!' before he caught himself. He was being raped! This was no time for good manners. "Fuck you, bitch!" he managed to shout, "Get off me!"

She grinned at him, toothily, "Oh you'll get off soon enough, my Pirate Subject!" Then she began to ride him.

He bit his lip against the sensation. She started off slow, squeezing his shaft expertly. He did his best to fight the pleasure, not wanting to give his captor the satisfaction.

"Oh yes," she muttered, "Even as you are, I like you..."

She increased her pace, bottoming out quickly and grinding him hard. Ridiculously, he could actually her a latex-esque squeek coming from her vagina. "Oh yes..." she muttered.

He bit his lip until blood trickled down his chin. It was fantastic, but he wouldn't let her know that, he couldn't, it was the principle of the thing...

"Yes yes, oh I like you," said muttered, getting more energetic, "This is good data! Good data!" she repeated that a few times, timing it to the rise and fall of her hips.

She looked down at him, crazy in her eyes, lust burning like blue fires in the night, "You like me too!"

He shook his head, someone petulantly.

"You do!" she declared, "You like these!" She suddenly shoved his head into her breasts again.

He tried to bite them. His fangs wouldn't penetrate the strange latex-esque substance.

"Oh!" she declared brightly, "You tit-biter! Have all you can take!"

Suddenly, impossibly, the breasts expanded, growing and forcing his jaws open until he had to pull them away. Suddenly his head was caught between breasts bigger then it was.

He was a man of simple tastes at heart and somewhere, something snapped. His hips began bucking up into the squeezing, squeaking cunt. The Wolf woman went wild with lust, driving back into him with equal ferocity.

It was hard to tell how long they kept at it, but it was a while. A long, timeless while where all of his worries vanished, replaced in a hazy lust. There was no scout ship, no fuel bills, no endless fields of pointless rocks, just him and something he needed, a warmth he wanted, a goal he pursued.

He exploded suddenly, gasping sharply then trying to bite the huge breasts again. His hips bucked crazily, knocking the heavy Wolf-woman into the air as he erupted within her. She howled with pleasure and dug her clawed hands into his shoulders.

They lay there panting for a full minute. He couldn't beleive how good he felt. For that minute, he didn't have a care in all the damn world.

"That was good data," said Doctor Wuulf, eventually.

"Hmmm," he said. That was all he could say.

"You like my body?" she said.

"Hmm," he said.

"You like my Synthflesh?" she said, more brightly.

"Hmmm..." he said.

She giggled happily, then pulled herself off of him with some very wet and audible noises. "You'll love it," she said, giggling.

That woke him up, "Excuse me..?" he said, with a politeness that surprised him.

"Oh," she said, grinning at him very wolfishly indeed, "Your test scores were very satisfactory my sweet subject, but we must be moving along with our plan..."

"...Our plan..?" he repeated, dumbly.

"Oh yes. For one thing," she lowered a digit to tap his now flaccid member, "One good performance is not enough! Only one good performance is the problem with males! It is one of the main things I seek to improve!"

"Improve?" he muttered, staring wide-eyed.

"Oh yes."

"Oh yes?"

"Oh. Yes."

She reached to her right and pushed a button. A bleep sounded very ominously.

"I had thought," she muttered thoughfully as some machinery whirred to life at the side of the room, just out of his cone of vision, "to process all your upgrades at once, but first we will see how you handle just a little synthflesh on your biological frame. I have not tested it with a male yet..."

"Wait a minute," he said, almost managing to frown.

"Science does not wait," she said, grinning again.

The robotic arm came out of no-where. Before he could move, panic or even complain, a great cup of metal and plastic locked itself around his genital regions. It buzzed in uncomforable ways. Very uncomfortable ways. Mechanical grinder ways.

"WAIT A FUCKING MINUTE!" he screeched.

Doctor Wuulf's expression spread out into a toothy death-mask of glee, "NO!" she declared.

The buzzing, spinning noises suddenly muffled, sounding and feeling as though they had made contact with something. There was no pain. In fact, there was no sensation at all from the region in question. It was somehow more ominous. He stared in stunned horror as the transparent hoses connected to the robotic pulsed to life.

He thought he should be screaming, like he really ought to be, but instead he stared fascinated as the robot arm buzzed and pulsed around his member. Some kind of black, tarlike substance flowed in one pipe. A second after the black substance entered the working end of the arm, a pulpy red mist began to flow out of the other. THEN he screamed.

He screamed hard. He screamed with the horror reserved for a very particular mortal fear.

Doctor Wuulf laughed. "Oh you sweetie!" she declared, stroking his head. "Don't you worry!"

"STOP IT! FUCKING STOP IT!" he screamed.

She laughed again. "Oh, you really don't want me to stop it now. Best let it finish!"

He screamed some more. He kept screaming and tried to struggle, but the restraints had subtly tightened.

He was still screaming and struggling after the noises stopped. He was still screaming and struggling when he realised that the Wolf woman was standing over him, looking him in the eyes with puzzlement.

"It is done you know," she said with a smirk.

"What have you done to me!?" he asked indignantly, out of breath.

"Take a look?" she suggested.

He took a look. His maw hung open in shocked horror. His member and his balls... he couldn't them gone, because they were there... or they had been replaced, by somethings back and latexy in the same shape.

"Do you like it!?" asked Doctor Wuulf, seemingly earnest.

"What have you done to me..!?" he asked not with a shout, but with a shocked, out of breath whisper.

"Upgraded you!" she declared brightly, then reached for his junk.

To his utter surprise, he found himself panting at the sensation, as she fondled him again, as she had earlier, only with more enthusiasm. Somehow. It felt as it did before. Better even. All pleasure, no dullness, no pain, just... good.

"You can't be fucking serious," he muttered, wondering if he was dreaming, horribly.

He put his head back. This couldn't be real. He grumbled to himself. This was insane. She continued groping at his now engorging member. This was a crazy dream and he might as well enjoy it.

"Oh, that's the spirit," growled the Wolf woman huskily.

Then he felt her wrap her breasts around it, growl appreciatively and then lean down to lick it. He panted at the perfect sensation of pleasure.

"Mmmm," she growled, "Optic fibre nervous replacement is working perfectly," she said to herself, "No signs of rejection... your body cannot tell the Synflesh from its own cells."

"No argument there," he said, deciding then for certain that the best course through the crazy wave was to steer right into it.

"How could you argue, this is perfect?" she said, then busied herself licking him and stroking with her growing titflesh.

She worked him expertly. Soon, the squeaky noises of latex on latex were ringing around the room. He grunted appreciatively, set himself to enjoying the experience. He would surely wake up any moment.

Then she was working him beyond expertly, growing and reducing her breasts, changing the size of her blue, flexible tongue, milking him with impossible physiology.

His pleasure peaked like a stake punching through a balloon, he barely had time to cry out before he exploded into her mouth.

"Thingh of pleshur!" she cried out as he burst and spurted, then spurted, then spurted. So he did. Soon she was moaning all the more as the impossibly long orgasm continued, spatters of impossible amounts of cum landing audibly on latexy flesh.

It tapered off a full thirty seconds later. When it dead, Doctor Wuulf was moaning deleriously, covered in cum.

Barely cogniscant himself, he looked at her confusedly.

She looked at him with dazed eyes. "The pharmacological implants are working! You gave me a good load of mood-enhancer?"

He shook his head. This dream was getting wierder. "I have drug balls?"

She nodded vigorously. Then clambered atop him. "Keep it up!" she instructed.

He was about to protest when he realised that he had no problem obeying the command. He felt as ready to go as if he'd taken a long sleep. His rubbery black member stood to vigorous attention.

"Ahah..." she said, looking dazed and hungry, putting her nose to his member, "Very very, very very good, you're adapting well," she said, rubbing the messy member against the sides of her muzzle. Doctor Wuulf has found herself an excellent subject this time."

"This time?" he asked with a frown.

She leant in close, "Oh, don't worry your pretty little head about it just yet, sweet subject. I'm not done having you all to myself. Stay focussed! We still have much research to do..."

He had more questions, but he didn't get much of a chance to ask them.

Indeed, he had much to occupy his current attention, as the subject of Doctor Wuulf.

Little did he know, that this was just the beginning...