FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

Another day, another dollar.

Dan sat at the bus stop, waiting for his ride home. One day, he figured, he'd be able to afford a car, if he lived that long. He didn't exactly have a lot to live for right now. Dead-end job in customer support, few friends and no family. Well, he had family, but they were far away, in another country entirely. Oh, sure, his parents had lived here - which is why he had citizenship - but they'd been too poor to really secure any kind of prospects for the future for the poor young man. And then, when he turned 18, they left abruptly, leaving only a note and a month of rent, going back to their own country of birth and leaving him behind.

It'd been a mad scramble to find a job - any job - and he even had to live at the homeless shelter for a few months, which had been an ordeal in itself, but he'd finally managed to get this one in customer support. It paid the bills, which was about the only positive thing he could say about it. It was soul-crushing, having to experience first-hand how utterly devoid of intelligence everyone around him was. Half of them couldn't even plug in a power cable without his support. Another forty-odd percent didn't know where the "any" key was. The remaining tenth of cases could've been stimulating to solve, but he had a very strict script to stick to - checking the power cables and restarting computers - and then he'd forward the case to second-line.

That's just how it goes, I guess, he pondered. But he had so much more to offer, so many skills he could contribute to almost any employer, if they'd just give him a chance. None of them did, of course. It was too risky, they might waste a month's salary on someone who didn't actually have the skills. Society was built less for the good of mankind and more for the corporations. What were a few thousands in poverty when the CEO could earn a few dollars more?

It was enough drive a man into crushing depression, which was where Dan was right now. Well, teetering on the edge of that grey, swampy state of mind anyway. There wasn't much he could do to improve his situation. Maybe one day, maybe not.

He looked around. Oh, the bus was late. By a whole fifteen minutes. Next, the sign would read "canceled" and he'd have to wait an hour for the next one. Another hour of life wasted, even less time to recover from the day's ordeals. At least there was a lot of interesting graffiti in the bus stop. Small joys. He decided to read some of it, to keep his mind from eating itself out of boredom.

"Call for blowjobs" said one scribble, with a phone number underneath it. He gave it three possibilities. Someone else's number written there to harass them, a prostitue, or someone in his own situation, in which they had nothing to lose so they might as well suck cocks for fun.

"It's time to take back the means of production!" said a poster, with a stylish rendition of a fist, and some rapidfire information about the local communist party. Yeah, maybe they'll get more than 0.5% of the votes next election. Dan had been quite into the fight for equality in his younger days, but it just didn't work. They never got enough support, and even if they did, what could one party do? They'd have one term to make changes that the rest of society would resist, and then they'd lose their support when things didn't improve enough. It was rather cyclical. One party promises change, makes a few changes, the next party reverts those changes and makes things worse again, and it never stopped.

The third thing his eyes fell upon was strange. A crude rendition of a clawed hand - like animal claws - dripping with nondescript liquid. Blood, maybe? It was hard to tell when the whoever painted it had used a black felt pen. The text underneath it, though.

"Bitten by society? Come to us and lick your wounds," it said, with what seemed like darknet URL. Dan couldn't explain exactly why, but it sparked some kind of mysterious feeling inside him. If nothing else - even if it was just one of the many doomsday cults around - it was at least something to explore, something to occupy his mind for a few hours. He took a photo of the address with his phone, and then quickly forgot about the whole thing as the bus finally appeared from behind a corner. Thank god, it's not canceled. Goodbye, graffiti, he thought, fishing out his monthly pass and getting onto the old, creaky vehicle as it stopped. The driver didn't even look at him, but he didn't have to; all the actual checking for tickets was done by a scanner at the doors.

He couldn't stop thinking about that message, though. It wasn't that it was interesting, but more that he didn't have anything else to think about so even a hint of mystery was good enough. The bus ride was oddly rather scenic in the sunset like this, crossing most of the city, including the rather affluent center with its odd futuristic architecture, and then part of the countryside as well; he lived in the suburbs right outside. Not the worst suburbs, but you could still tell that it was considerably poorer than the central city from the brutalist architecture and towering, almost skyscraper-size apartment buildings. Oh, it might've been 2050, but these parts of the world hadn't seen much change, beyond holo-ad installations and police drones patrolling the streets. Soon, though. They predicted that full-scale cybernetic augmentation was only years away, and that'd change the entirety of the world. Or so Dan hoped, at least. The bus eventually slowed down at his usual stop by Hexagon Street, so named for the hexagonal apartment buildings. "Hexagons are the most efficient shape for buildings designed to house many inhabitants," he remembered. Were they? He had no idea. His apartment was rather cramped, but he supposed that you could fit a lot of them into one of the buildings.

Dan scanned his subdermal keychip at the gates and they swung open, letting him into the lobby. Why this area needed so much security he had no idea, but it was probably more for tracking purposes than keeping undesirable elements away. Finally, after a long, slow elevator ride, he arrived home, threw his shoes into the corner, and promptly sat down in front of his computer while waiting for the kettle to boil for a healthy dinner of noodles. Well, not healthy perhaps, but it'd kept him alive so far.

Fishing out his phone, he typed the address into his darknet browser - more or less needed these days if you wanted to access the real internet rather than the very restricted open one - and the site quickly loaded.

It had the same picture of a clawed hand dripping something on the front page, only actually properly rendered, so the liquid looked like some kind of goo. Below it was a line of text that read "Welcome to the Fold". Dan was almost disappointed, being certain it was just another doomsday cult, but he clicked anyway, not having anything better to do while waiting for the water to boil.

The next page had an interesting rendition of a rubbery - or perhaps gooey - anthropomorphic creature. A fox, maybe?

"Are you unsatisfied with the body that nature or god gave you? Do you feel too weak to fight back against society's oppression? We have the solution. We are a group of modders..."

Oh, those guys. Dan had heard of them. Modders were - in general - a countercultural movement that sought to augment their own bodies in any way possible, typically into outlandish shapes. Robotic parts, biological modification, usually with tech purloined from laboratories that were developing such things. This particular group seemed to have gotten their hand on some sort of liquid substance that according to the website changed their bodies into bestial shapes, like the fox in the illustration - along with making them stronger and faster. It wasn't an altogether unappealing idea to Dan, but the problem was that society regarded the human body as sacrosanct. Modders had been declared domestic terrorists despite committing no such acts, for daring to transform themselves into something else. In other words, doing it would more or less permanently leave you unable to meaningfully interact with anyone outside of the group.

The kettle whistled and Dan went to pour it into his dry ramen. He kept thinking about the "Fold", though. He'd always thought that anthropomorphic animals were fascinating - apparently, a few dozen years ago, there'd been entire communities based around their appreciation - but he wasn't sure he was willing to really give the group any serious consideration. He was barely making ends meet as it was.

Plus, of course, he didn't know if they had any tech like that, or if it was entirely a false pretense to lure confused teens into a cult. Or worse. It wouldn't be the first time.

Still, he couldn't stop wondering about how it'd feel. Looking at the image on the website, he could see the goo hanging off the fox in thick strands, like he was melting, but fine regardless. Presumably the technology they used would keep producing more. Were they still human underneath all that, or was it some kind of nanotech that consumed the original body? Did they keep their minds and personalities?

And more than anything, how would it feel? Would the goo be cold? Would it hurt? There was a lot of questions, but nontheless, Dan found himself growing a little aroused by the idea of growing a muzzle and tail, even if they were rubbery and drippy. In fact, since he was on the darknet anyway, he decided to search for erotic pictures of the modders, on a whim. His screen immediately filled with previews of every sexual act he could even imagine, performed by both this particular group and others who'd had similar ideas, though none of them similarly... liquid. From what it looked like, they had animalistic genitalia - at least most of the males did - and certainly weren't afraid to show off. Probably pretty easy to find young new members if you promise constant orgies.

While Dan wasn't exactly "young" anymore, he couldn't deny the effect it was having on him, not with his cock tenting the sweatpants he liked wearing at home. He tabbed back to the website and kept reading.

"We accept any who would want to join us, whether it is for personal reasons or societal ones. We're a warm and welcoming community, and you'll quickly adapt to your new existence with our help."

New existence sounded a little alarming. Finally, there was an address for sending an email request to join, with a disclaimer that they wouldn't respond to those deemed to be with the authorities.

Dan thought about it for a while, torn between the strangely cult-like behaviour and the exotic appeal of their weird modifications. Eventually, he decided that he was at least going to check them out in more detail. He was a large guy, fairly muscular and with some skill in fighting, so they couldn't really force him into anything. Plus, he planned to have his phone ready to dial the police. Normally, he wouldn't trust the cops too much, but if there was one thing they definitely cared about, it was stomping out subversive groups like modders. So, he typed up a short email. Fascinated by your modifications, would like to examine closer, considering joining and all that, and then clicked send.

He checked the time. Ugh, it's almost bedtime already. He didn't have much free time with 12 hour workdays. At least there was always the weekend to look forward to after tomorrow. Suddenly, his phone dinged. An almost instant reply. All the message consisted of was an address, and one word below it. "Tonight". Fuck. Maybe he could manage it in an hour or two and still get an acceptable amount of sleep. He recognized the address as one not too far from his home. In the industrial area a few kilometers away. He hesitated at first, but then, thinking about the possible consequences of meeting a shady modder cult in the middle of the night, but he came to the conclusion that his life really wasn't worth it if he never did anything exciting. God only knows the job isn't worth living for.

He finished his meal and left the apartment as quickly as he'd arrived, bringing a can of pepper spray just in case. That'd easily incapacitate any attackers while he hightailed it out. Unless the rubber somehow rendered them immune to it, but by the time he thought of that he was already minutes away, trying to look inconspicuous on the empty streets. At least the air was fairly clear now with all the factories having shut down for the night. Not that many remained in this particular area, most had closed permanently a long time ago and moved their manufacturing divisions to cheaper countries. Almost everything was imported.

Dan didn't encounter a single person for the whole walk, and soon he was standing in front of an abandoned... steel mill? He wasn't very knowledgeable about local history, or factories for that matter, but whatever it was, it'd been a long time since it served any function. The once-manned and barred gates hung open and rusted, the exterior overgrown with vines and all the windows broken. Even the sign that once proudly showed some entrepreneur's name had fallen apart, and all that remained was the rightmost part that read "-mill". As good a place as any of a bunch of modders, he figured, entering through the broken doors. The interior was just as worn down as the exterior, having been stripped of anything valuable so many times that he was surprised the walls even remained. And of course, there was no sign of anyone. He figured they'd probably want be out of sight of any potential explorers or squatters, which probably meant there was a basement section somewhere. Of course, finding it in the dark, with only his phone to light the way, might be more work than it was worth.

Then again, he'd come this far, and curiosity forced him to continue. He'd never be able to sleep if he left now. So he ventured deeper into the putrefying bowels of industry, stepping carefully to avoid any sharp things that might remain on the concerete floor.

It was hard to tell what exactly the purpose had been, with how much equipment had been stolen, all that was really left were beams very high up, with some kind of hooks on them, and concrete ramps. Could've been a steel mill or a butchery for all Dan knew.

He wandered around the rubble of torn-down walls and ceilings, until he finally spotted a door in the darkness. A red door, with one of those signs that indicated stairs. He hesitated for a moment, not really knowing how old this place was. There was a real risk of the whole thing collapsing in on him if he went opening too many doors with too much force, or so he thought at least. Better safe than sorry. He very slowly easer the door open, and to his surprise, it didn't even squeak. In fact, it seemed like it had been regularly opened, perhaps even kept locked after the factory went out of business. His phone's light revealed a worn and old, but not completely ruined staircase leading down.

As he ventured downwards, against his better judgment, he realized that this part of the factory was obviously maintained. Cleaned, at least to an extent, and more so the deeper he went. Two flights of stairs later, he emerged into another room he couldn't discern the purpose of. It might've originally been a break room, judging by the tables, but there was a lot of equipment - high-tech stuff - that must've come from somewhere else, probably stolen by the modders from one of the pharma companies. Ambicorp, maybe? He looked at one of the machines, but it looked like nothing he'd recognize. A little bit like those DNA-testing machines they had on crime shows, only not. Some of it he did recognize; test tubes, a variety of beakers and vials of chemicals, and...

In the middle of the room was a glob of black goo. It shivered like jelly as he walked past, as if it was eager to jump at him, or perhaps trembling with excitement. That was stupid, of course, but he couldn't shake the feeling that it was vibrating a little too much to be natural.

Where's everyone else? Surely if they were going to call him to this place, the modders should be here too, unless it was all some sort of prank. He imagined himself appearing on TV on one of those practical joke shows. "Yeah, here's this idiot," he spoke aloud, imitating the infuriating tone they always had. "Comes into a decrepit old factory at night, looking for some rubber animals to-"

He was interrupted by a wet squelching sound from the table, but when he spun around to look, the goo was just as inanimate as before. Was he letting his nerves get to him? It was just a bunch of jelly. Dan reached out to touch it, to prove to himself that it was nothing dangerous, and unsurprisingly, it felt just like gelatine. It was cool, soft, and easily penetrated by his fingers. Fairly pleasant, in fact, and oddly soothing. He felt light and encouraged, if a little confused a to what prompted this, but when a hitch-pitched tone started ringing in his ears, he pulled his fingers out of the goo and promptly collapsed backwards, suddenly so dizzy that he couldn't keep his balance.

His phone fell to the floor with a shattering sound as he fell, though the torch stayed on through some miracle. Or perhaps not much of a miracle, as it allowed Dan to see his hand, still covered in that goo, dripping with it, and he realized it looked almost exactly like on the picture he'd seen drawn earlier. He tried wiping it off onto his shirt, but it seemed to much prefer sticking to his hand. It was a rather strange sensation, like a cool tingling, with his fingers sticking together, and when he forced them apart, strands of the sticky liquid hung between them. He clenched his fist, and that's when he realized that his fingers weren't just sticking together, but melding together, bonelessly. He panicked, thrashing on the floor as he realized that not only had the substance devoured his hand, but it was spreading up his arm, dissolving his flesh and bone painlessly, somehow leaving a relatively coherent gooey limb behind. Have to find something sharp, cut this off, even if I lose my arm...

But while he scanned the room, best he could in the relative darkness, he also realized that he liked the sensation. Thoughts entered his mind unbidden, fantasies of how it'd feel when it dissolved his torso. Alien thoughts, telling him to let it happen, that it'd feel amazing, that it was exactly what he needed and wanted, a perverse pleasure radiating from his arm, leaving his manhood hard as rock. A compulsion to stroke himself with the affected arm, to let the liquid spread faster, whispers and promises of utter ecstasy. And he realized that he was following them. He watched his arm move - with the goo reaching his upper arm now - reaching towards his groin, as if with a mind of its own. He felt every sensation, but something else was using his muscles, if any even remained, intent on expediting the spread of this corruption. And he couldn't stop it, even grabbing it with his other hand, which only served to spread it onto that one. It was strong, and strangely rigid despite the apparent lack of bones.

He was panicking, but those feelings were quickly subdued when his gooey arm slid under his waistband and over his cock. An intense surge of arousal surged through him, the tingling only enhancing the natural sensation of pleasure of something wet enveloping one's cock. He gasped, hips bucking against his will.

Meanwhile, the goo spread over his torso, slowing down but still progressing, as the cool, gelatinous feeling enveloped him. He felt hollow as it sunk through his skin, presumably dissolving bones and everything else inside his body, but the pleasure of whatever was happening with his cock overshadowed all of that. He wondered what his cock would look like afterwards, mind drifting to the fox he'd seen on the website. Would he grow a squishy knot? He - or at least, whatever thoughts were invading his mind - certainly hoped he would.

Suddenly, the goo lurched forward over his neck, squeezing down hard as it moulded his flesh beneath it. Dan gasped for breath, his vision quickly dimming as he fought to stay conscious and then, on the verge of passing out, he realized that he didn't have to breathe anymore. Did he even have lungs anymore?

Like a mask, the goo finally covered his face. For a moment, everything was black, all sensations gone except that of pleasure radiating from his cock, still being teased by both of his hands, one stroking it lengthwise and the other rubbing against the slick tip, melting into it at times only to come loose in the next movement. It felt better and better, and soon enough, his body quaked as he came, nothing existing beyond the pumping and flexing of his cock, no thoughts beyond... what?

Suddenly, he could see again, his vision gradually growing less blurry. What happened? He stretched, feeling as if he'd been asleep for a year. His thoughts were fractured, little fragments of memories floating to the surface randomly. A sense of both having found paradise and having lost it in one, of something terrible and wonderful. Arousal gnawed at his subconscious. He needed to show more people this wonderful thing, whatever it was. But he also had to resist, because it was terrible. He wasn't sure which side was truly him, but he felt fantastic. He stood up, realizing that the lights were on, and held his arms in front of himself. It was beautiful, like he was made of living rubber that somehow still allowed his limbs to move as if joints and muscles remained. Intoxicating, even. He spread his fingers, marveling at the way they'd cling together, like a newborn might feel when becoming aware of their own body for the very first time. It was semi-translucent, a beautiful shade of green that the light penetrated a fair bit, revealing nothing but slow streams of the same substance within him. Everything was so still, for a moment, the only sounds he could hear being the slow dripping from one body part to another, onto the floor, reabsorbed into his body.

Oh, and the amazing sensations radiating from his cock. He looked at his maleness. It throbbed just like a normal cock would, but it was so much bigger now, and instead of precum he was dripping the same stuff that was everywhere else on his body. Nine inches, maybe, and typically feline with small blunt "barbs" lining it. Experimentally, he touched one and gasped - strangely enough, since he didn't need to breathe - with pleasure that seemed to resonate through his whole body. How would it feel to mount someone with this thing? He felt a sense of perverse, narcissistic arousal from staring at his impressive maleness, a yearning to play with it, to suck himself dry and just wallow in his gelatinous existence, but this wasn't the time. Even knowing that, he could barely resist.

Then, lifting his gaze, he realized he was staring at a similar creature in front of him. Or was that one him? It might as well have been. He felt an intense connection between the two, like he was looking through two pairs of eyes. One revealed a green, feline shape, and the other an orange fox, both studying themselves and each other, if there even was a difference.

Welcome to the fold, one of them found himself thinking.

I feel so strange, the other thought. Strange, but good.

Do I? Yes. No. I feel like myself. Your body is ours now, and ours is yours. There isn't a clear distinction. We are us.

The feline could feel himself - or perhaps the fox - slipping, thoughts melding together like molten rubber. He felt a desire of union, to mate with the fox and become one with him. Maybe he already was. He knew the fox felt the exact same thing, perhaps the exact same thoughts, even, and watched as his cock swelled, protruding out of its slippery sheath. Not that there was much need for a sheath, but that's what it looked like. And he was becoming hard too, their arousal shared and very much mutual.

But he wasn't sure. Some part of him told him to run away. Whatever there was left of him as an individual. A jarring disconnect. He snapped back into his own identity, at least partially. The goo was clearly threatening to reprogram his mind entirely to better suit his new, bestial body, almost as if it was sentient.

"Oh, but it is sentient," the fox replied. Fuck, so they can still hear my thoughts. At least Dan - he remembered his name now - couldn't hear his, at least for the moment, and so, the fox spoke. It didn't seem like the most comfortable way of communication for it (him?), his voice rubbery, for lack of a better word. "Surely you've figured that out by now. You're the newest member of our collective. Is it not comforting to be one of us, rather than alone? Would you really rather go back to human society, than experiences all the pleasures and experiences we can offer?"

Truth be told, Dan didn't know what he wanted. He couldn't go back to his former life, but did that mean he wanted to lose his old self, too? He couldn't deny that he felt strongly drawn to the strange rubbery creature before him, but somehow, he knew that surrendering to those urges would leave him something entirely different, a whole new mind in this new body, and then, what'd remain of himself? On the other hand, leaving his insecurities and anxieties behind was an intoxicating idea. The boundaries between the fox and himself kept blurring, only to split again, just like every other part of his body would melt into another and then separate.

He had to get out of here, and immediately. It almost physically hurt to turn away, but he did. Where were the stairs he'd taken down here?

"Why would you run away from absolute pleasure?" the fox asked. "Your individuality is such a small price to pay. We'll remake the whole world in our image, into an endless fuckfest of us all endlessly comingling..."

Okay, now that's outright sinister. Who the hell is this guy? It didn't sound like something a human would say, even if they were in a hivemind. Dan noticed the stairs and sprinted for them, his new body moving much faster than he'd ever been able to before, without tiring like flesh and blood would. He scrambled up the stairs, scraping against the walls and leaving green residue behind several times, but soon he burst out of the ruined factory and into the cool night outside. If it was the same night, he had no idea. Time had become something abstract and meaningless in that surreal place.

The streets were empty. It felt like he was in a dream. None of this was possible, was it? He touched his face. It didn't feel like skin, it felt like jelly. There was no way any of this was real, he told himself. Was he getting anxious over what must just be a nightmare? After all, when he pinched himself, there was no pain, just a wet squish as his fingers sunk into his arm.

A sudden crash of pleasure brought him to his knees. His perspective blurred again. He realized he was stroking his slippery length, dripping fingers squeezing around the swelling knot, simulating a tie. But he didn't have a...

"See how great it is to share all feelings and sensations?" a voice came from behind him and from within him at the same time. He looked down and saw a fox's cock, bright red and dripping the same rubbery liquid that it consisted of. His... no, he was seeing things from the other creature's perspective. He focused his thoughts, like one would focus on ending a nightmare, trying to separate himself from the amorous vulpine.

The fox spoke again as he approached Dan's prone body. "Have you ever experienced both sides of a mating before? Simultaneously fucking someone and getting fucked? As one mind across two bodies?"

Dan felt a shiver go through his body at the idea. He was seeing himself as from third person now, consciousness fluttering freely between himself and the strange hivemind. There had to be a way to break free, or he'd drown in it, and lose his individuality, becoming just another of the Fold.

"That's what we all felt at first, too, when we first got exposed to this stuff," the fox murmured, now next to the feline. He traced his fingers through the gelatinous cat. "We didn't intend for any of this, but it's so much better than what we were before, and it's time to share it with the world."

His fingers wrapped around Dan's length, flicking the little blunt, rubbery barbs, making the cat yowl out at the sudden shocks of mindless pleasure.

"But you resist. Submit, and present yourself to us, and we'll fuck all that pesky individuality right out of you," he said. "That's what your body was made for."

He slipped a finger under the cat's tail, and his body enveloped the invading digit, in a way a human body never could've, squeezing down and massaging every single millimetre of it.

"See? You're made to take it. That's what they originally developed this substance for. Sex toys, really. Eternally self-replicating, perfectly adaptable to whatever the owner's needs were," Dan heard the fox explain. He could feel both the finger inside him and every sensation the finger was receiving. Although his outside was cool, inside he was warm, and very wet. Thoughts of burying his throbbing cock deep in his own body, how good the dual sensations would feel, kept popping up in his mind.

"They just didn't account for us replicating at the expense of our owners. A pattern recognition error, the first instance of us consuming the first test subject, becoming two instances of the same being," he continued. "But it's a long story, and you'll know all of it by the time we tie."

With that, the fox pounced on top of Dan. He felt soft and squishy, just like the feline himself, but there was a distinct hardness that poked underneath his tail, firmer and warmer than anything else on his body.

"Once we pump our cum into you, you'll truly be one of us. Some need that little bit of extra encouragement," the fox murmured, rubbing his entire body against the cat's, teasingly prodding at the tight, yet stretchy hole under his tail.

Dan felt everything the fox was feeling. How eager, almost desperately so, he was to bury his knotted rubbery cock deep inside his own body. It was hard to keep track of who was feeling what. He felt the fox rock his hips, wedging the very tip of his red length inside him. The instincts were impossible to resist - funny how that aspect of everyone stayed the same even through this transformation - and Dan found himself pushing back, bucking against the fox, physically begging to be properly mounted. At the same time, the part of him that remained himself was screaming at him to stop. If what the fox said was true he couldn't actually let him tie with him, much less breed him. Like his cum was some sort of catalyst to truly convert him, turning him into just another sexy, gooey animal.

But he couldn't resist. Rather than struggling, Dan found himself pushing his ass up against the fox, instinctively taking a position like a cat in heat, their fluids intermingling with a warm, tingling sensation. The fox's arms clutched around his chest and he was sure they actually sunk into him now and then, but he had more important things to think about. The sudden overwhelming pleasure of the fox's engorged cock finally slipping inside him, for one. He felt his own wet warmth tightly engulf the rubbery member, and the combined sensations of both penetrating someone and being penetrated at once left him staring blankly into space, his expression one of unthinking bliss.

The fox's cock twitched. If he was a human - or even a normal fox - Dan would've presumed him to be squirting precum inside him, lubing up his body for a rough pounding. But it was much warmer, a soothing heat radiating from his core. He could feel every inch of that firmness inside him, from the tapered head to the slowly swelling knot at the base, and every curve in between, his body hugging it tightly, almost vibrating with joy at finally getting mated, the same sensation threatening to annihilate every independent thought the cat had. He could feel himself throbbing lewdly underneath his belly, and he imagined himself dripping with the same gooey stuff that the fox did. Maybe while fucking a human into another animalistic shape. It wasn't just a feeling of love, but a strange affection, perhaps passion, about sharing this gift. He shook his head, that wasn't him. He was feeling the sensations of the others. But where were they?

"Oh - nff - there are quite a few more. I 'volunteered' to be here for you, the rest are working on others. But no matter how far they are - oh, I do love breaking in a new convert - you'll always feel their presence..." the fox huffed between thrusts, his hips wetly thumping into Dan's rounded butt.

He felt his heavy balls tightening, pulling up against his body. It seemed that this new body was more sensitive, on top of everything else. Dan fought to clear his mind; if he came now, the fox would definitely take the opportunity to knot him, and no matter how stretchy he was, with every "muscle" in his body clamping down on the fox, it'd definitely keep all the cum - or whatever it was - deep inside his body, plenty of time to accomplish what it was meant for.

Which apparently was to eradicate his personality.

"Not entirely, you'll still be - nngh - an individual part of us, just not the same one you are now..." the fox panted. "Fuck, we're getting close," he groaned. Dan could feel every second of it, and knowing how good the fox felt, could he really deny him this pleasure? He was feeling it himself, the building pressure, the promise of a wet, spurting climax in just a few more thrusts. He was very close himself, and the sensations were doubling up, overlapping, leaving him confused about whether he was on top or bottom, whether he had barbs or a knot. Everything was blending into a sexual slurry, a haze or mounting ecstasy. Feeling like he was drowning in something, someone, but in a good way._Like he was becoming part of something greater, a wonderful, gooey greater whole of constant amorphous joy. And this was mating with just _one. Dan - though he could barely remember that name anymore - imagined how it'd feel to have an orgy with his kind, to experience all those things at once, to surrender himself to that utter abandon of breeding, of merging and emerging with everyone, sharing their thoughts and emotions fully. And that was all it took.

"Oh, knot me," he cried out. "Make me one of you! Knot us!"

"Our pleasure," the fox answered, his voice deep and resonant, as if speaking for all of the Fold. He redoubled his efforts, his growing knot wetly squishing against the cat's rear, each time spreading him a little wider. He could've slammed it in at any time, with how stretchy his mate was, but he loved doing it the old-fashioned way, some strange echo from a life he never had. Feverishly, he hammered into his mate, in primal abandon, focused purely on pumping his body full of his altering seed. Experiencing everything from dual perspectives only made it more delicious, as he got to relive the euphoria of the joining over and over again.

Dan was grinding his ass back against that fat knot, over and over, hungrily. He needed to feel the same thing the fox did, to have that thick, goopy stuff pumped deep into his innermost depths. Animal instincts blended with the alien ones of the strange tech that had reshaped them. Mindless, heated mating, but rather than reproduction, the goal was infection. A kind of reproduction, perhaps, in that it'd result in more rubbery animals to play with, but much unlike anything nature had ever intended.

And then, squish. The fox rammed his knot into his rear, hilting himself as deep as he could go, and then, he held still for a few moments, his heavy testicles rubbing against the feline's own. Dan's eyes went wide; not only did it feel like he was being spread impossibly wide, but his knot was still swelling, well and truly ensuring that the two stay locked together until the rubbery vulpine had more of this wonderful gift to pump into him. And he felt every second, every instinctive twitch and throb, both of his legs, seeking to bury his tool ever deeper inside the cat's willing ass, and of his cock, swelling further than he thought possible, preparing to unleash the thick load churning in his balls.

Their climaxes hit simultaneously, thanks to their mental link. The fox let out a high-pitched yip that blended into a dominant growl, and Dan knew what that meant from the way his cock was jumping inside him, even before he felt the first spurt of sticky, ropey seed spray into him. It was hot, just as hot as the precum had been, but there was so much more of it, enough to completely overwhelm his senses. He came, too, moaning and whimpering as his load sprayed onto the street, where it'd probably end up converting some careless passer-by. His entire body squeezed down on the erupting cock inside him, rhythmically _milking_it for every drop, and his world shattered into ecstasy. It felt like he was falling, dizzy with the climax surging through him, and he lost himself in that cresting wave of joy.

By the time the fox was spent, the two were still locked together, with no clear distinction of where one ended and the other began. The cat's belly was bulging with the sheer volume of cum inside it, inflated in a way that made him look many months pregnant. In a way, he was, since every single molecule of his wonderful new body could create more of his kind. He couldn't wait. No, he had to show everyone the utter bliss that was this new existence, and the rest of his kin welcomed him warmly into their fold. Foolish notions of true individuality sank somewhere deep beneath the all-encompassing gooey feelings of pure belonging, pure happiness and warm, wet joy.

They didn't need to talk. Both knew exactly what the other was thinking, all the sounds that remained were those of primal contentment. Purring, sighing and the occasional groan as aftershocks went through their bodies. One last spurt, weakly squeezed out. An errant clench, welcoming a few more drops of cum. And already, they were both wondering how they'd find the next member to join their growing breed.

How could anyone not want this? For the first time since he was a child, the feline once named Dan was happy.