FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

Caution: The following story is for adult viewers only.

Trent gripped his controls eagerly. It had been months since he and his troops had seen combat. Business had been surprisingly slow. His small band of mercenaries had grown tired of their drop ship, the metal walls always so confining. He figured a little training exercise couldn't hurt anything. And besides, trees don't shoot back.

The pounding of the boots and the grinding of the tank treads bellow was almost unheard by Trent in the cockpit of his sixty ton Battlemech. The seat of his Catapult almost comfortable, despite the lurching of the torso. Trent had always wondered why they couldn't make a 'mech that flew permanently. He guessed sixty tons would be a whole lot of weight for one reactor to handle. But what a smooth ride that would be. He snapped out of his daydream when his communications console barked a warning that someone wanted his attention.

He toggled the channel on (he never did like open comms, too many sneezes during battle). "Sir, we've found something". His second in command, Trish.

"Cut the 'sir' crap Trish, you know I don't like it". Trish was his best friend, with him since the beginning. Their dads had been the founding members of their mercenary group, The Black Panthers. Trent had never liked the obviously redundant title; but that had always been dad, plain and simple. It might have been that "point and shoot" attitude that had prevented dad from seeing the enclosing enemies five years ago. He was right in the middle, blasting everything that moved with his best buddy, Trish's dad, right at his back. They almost made it out. They would've too, if their allies had been there to back them up. But that canyon would be their grave. The cowards that were the backup wouldn't be coming to the rescue, too scared to risk their own necks. But it had turned out that the crew did have a conscious, for when Trent and Trish became the next in line for command, nobody complained.

Trent got to pilot the Catapult (his father's old rust bucket) and Trish got her dad's old Minion tank (and command of nearly all of the ground forces). Trent never complained about the deal, he would much rather be up off the ground in his 'mech's cockpit than in the confines of a tank. But the way Trish piloted that tank was like nothing Trent had ever seen, she was the definition of a daredevil on the battlefield. Her 151 km/h tank put Trent's Catapult to shame; constantly zooming left and right, medium pulse lasers blazing. Her copilot was her targeting computer, "Betsy", that she rigged up to fire independently from human input (which Trish claimed would just slow her down). Trish's front line aggressiveness fit perfectly with Trent's long-range missiles. Trish would mark the targets, Trent would "Let 'em fly and watch 'em die". The two made a pretty good team.

All this Trent reflected on as he marched his 'mech to Trish's location. When he got halfway there she finally replied with "Whatever, bra'. Just get that tin can over here, you gotta see this". Trent smiled at the informal tone, but the insult to the Catapult stung a little. He had grown rather fond of the battlemech over the past couple of years. A new paint job and some replacement parts had seen it return to near prime condition since it was passed down to his hands. At twenty two, both he and Trish were a bit young for command, Trent especially young to be a 'mech pilot. But in this life you learn quick or die trying.

He came up over a ridge to find Trish sitting on top of her Minion. He stopped about thirty yards away and powered down his Catapult. Tossing the short rope ladder down to the ground, he quickly descended. "Why'dya gotta call the 'pault names?" he asked as he approached.

"I'll stop when it can engage at closer than eighty meters. Those missiles are useless," she said.

"That's not what you were saying four months ago when that pack of Lights was about to roast you alive", Trent knew he had her.

"Meh, I could've taken them," he also knew her pride wouldn't let her admit having needed help.

"Whatever," was his end of their little play time; both of them grinning knowingly.

"So what is it you called me over here for? And where are the?men?"

"I told them to go setup camp, they were all starving." She replied. "And I found something on the scanners, wanna go check it out?"

"What kind of something?" he asked, weary of hostiles on what had been a seemingly deserted planet.

"Relax, it's just a geographic anomaly," she said almost disappointedly.

"Well, I guess it beats eating rations with the troops," he replied knowing it was what she wanted to hear.

"Alright! I'm driving!" she exclaimed before hopping up to embark on their expedition.

As she lifted the hatch to board the tank, Trent took a second to admire his friend. She was about five and a half feet tall, short to Trent's six foot three in height. Her long dark brown hair was usually tied up in a pony tail, so as to stay out of her eyes (something Trent never had to worry about with his buzzed brown hair). She had soft brown eyes that hid her aggressive personality, and a cute rounded face that came to her chin perfectly. Her short little nose was nestled amongst the freckles on her cheeks, and she had those kinds of ears that barely poked through her hair on those rare occasions when it was down.

When Trish started fidgeting with a piece on the hatch, Trent knew he had another second to visually explore the more intimate regions of her body. You wouldn't think she was a mercenary with her somewhat lithe frame, and her paler skin was a stark contrast to Trent's naturally tan skin. However, anybody who looked at her would've said she was beautiful. Her hourglass figure was well defined with her pert breasts and firm ass. Trent often fantasized about that ass and those D cup tits, and what he would do in a different life. But the two had never really tried a relationship, though there had always been the underlying flirting and winks when nobody was watching. Trent had always wished he had the courage to ask Trish out on a date, but where would they go? The drop ship was the closest thing they had to a home.

Trent quickly looked away when Trish caught him staring at her chest, the top three buttons of her shirt were open just wide enough to show off the tight cleavage under her tank top (he was glad she had chosen casual wear for the exercise today).

"You coming?" she asked pointedly as she stepped inside the compartment.

"Yeah," he replied after clearing his throat.

He sat in the would-be copilot's seat, having to lean to the side to avoid Betsy. Trish started the engine and they took off in the hover tank. Trent started to notice how hot it was starting to get, his focus shifting again to Trish. The 'casual clothes' she wore were similar to his. Whereas he was wearing a blue T-shirt, she was wearing the white tank top and the unbuttoned shirt that stopped about half way down her firm stomach. From there her shapely ass was held in by some denim shorts, compared to his cargo shorts. And their feet were covered in worn combat boots. Her seductive legs were apparently noticing the heat too, as a bead of sweat formed on her thigh and started slowly sliding down her leg.

"So what do you think this thing is?" he asked, trying to take his mind off the bead of sweat.

"I'm not sure, it looks like a giant cavern," she replied. Thankfully,?she was too busy paying attention to driving to notice Trent growing aroused. However,?the moment was short lived as they soon arrived at their destination.

The Minion crested over a hill to bring into view a giant mountain in the distance. The journey didn't take long though, as the relatively flat plain made for easy travel in the agile hover tank.

"Wow, look at the size of that mountain!" Trish exclaimed,?mirroring Trent's thoughts. You could fit a city in that thing!

As the Minion drew closer, Trent picked out what looked like an entrance into the mountain and pointed it out to Trish. They pulled up and the tank settled to the ground, its lift fans hot from the journey.

"How do you think this got here?" Trish asked as they disembarked the craft.

"How should I know, those gates look ancient," Trent said, pointing to two large stone doors. The figures that had been carved into them were worn beyond recognition.

"I wonder how old this place is," said Trish as she walked up to the ancient entryway.

"Maybe we should go back, we don't know if it's safe in there. Who knows what shape the inside is in", said Trent. He didn't want them to get stuck in some ancient ruin with no way of getting back.

"I wanna see what it looks like," Trish said. Trent could tell by the look in her eye that there was no way he was going to win this one.

"Alright, fine. But only for a little bit. I'm starting to get hungry," a half lie to encourage her to not stay too long.

"Yeah, me too," she replied, encouraging him that this might not take long after all.

When they both got closer to the gates, they could see that they were actually slightly open; something they couldn't see from the other angle.

"It's our lucky day!" said Trish as she hopped over to the gate. "Help me open this!"

The ten foot tall gate looked impossibly heavy, but Trent joined her in the pulling position. The gate must've been well lubricated in the past, for it swung open as soon as the two broke through the?first layer of rust. As soon as the door opened all the way, the two got their first real smell of the interior of the cavern. It smelled like mildew and mold, but with an underlying scent of something... more. Trent couldn't put his finger on it.

"What an interesting smell," said Trish.

"'Interesting' is one word for it," Trent said crinkling his nose. "Is this going to take long?"

"C'mon, spoil sport, let's go exploring!" was the response he got.

He was surprised when she bolted off into the cavern, leaving him still standing at the door. He hurried to follow after her.

"Please be careful!" he shouted in the general direction he thought she went.

"Where's the fun in that?!?" was Trish's reply from somewhere else.

"Where are you?" he called, altering his course to follow the last reply.

"Over this way!" came Trish's voice from yet a third direction.

Trent began to panic a little as he changed course the second time, trying desperately to listen for Trish's footsteps. But all he could hear was the echo of his own.

He stopped for a second to try and listen, when he noticed for the first time the interior of the mountain. All over the walls and ceilings were images of people. The weird thing was that all the people were walking in one direction on the wall. They were all pointing towards the door at the end of the room, opposite the one Trent came in. All the people looked like what Trent would consider normal people; they looked just like regular human beings.

"Well, I guess I'll go with the flow. Hopefully Trish did the same thing." Trent said to himself as he started walking towards the end of the room.

But what Trent didn't notice as he started walking away, was that the people on the walls were changing. They were all changing into the same person, a six foot three man with cargo shorts and a T-shirt on.

Meanwhile, Trish had gone the opposite direction. Having found a few different chambers all void of any furniture or artifacts, she finally stumbled upon what looked like a throne room. Unfortunately,?after sitting in her make believe throne and ordering about her make believe subjects, she got bored.

"Well, so much for this crummy old place," she sighed as she headed back in the direction she came. "I wonder if Trent's still waiting for me at those gates."

But Trent was far from the gates. The first door he went through led to another room, which in turn led to another. All the while,?he kept following the figures on the walls.

"Man, rations at the campfire don't sound too bad now," he complained to himself as his stomach started grumbling.

"I guess I can't count on this cavern for food," he sighed as he thought about his predicament.

But as soon as he said that, he smelled something different. It smelled like something that couldn't be there. It smelled like milk. But sure enough, as soon as he entered the next room, there in the center was a pedestal with a bowl of milk on it.

Back at the gates, Trish was wondering where Trent had gone. She knew he had chased after her, but she thought he would've come back to the entrance to wait for her.

"Well, I guess we're bunking here tonight," she said to herself as the sun started to set. "I just wish I had brought some more food", she said while grabbing an emergency ration out of her Minion.

Back at the pedestal,?Trent was investigating the milk.

"This can't be real," he said aloud as he gave the milk the 'ol sniff test.

It didn't smell sour; perhaps it was some kind of ancient super milk that never went bad, he thought to himself. He looked up from the bowl and for the first time noticed a giant stone carving of a figure on the wall. Why did it remind him so much of somebody he knew? He looked below the carving and saw the word "DRINK" also carved into the wall.

"What are the odds that these people spoke my language," Trent said to himself.

When he took his eyes off the wall he noticed something he had apparently missed before, a stone cup next to the bowl.

"Oh well, what's the worst that could happen?" he said as he grabbed the cup and scooped some milk up.

He hesitated for a moment, but then took his first swig of the strange milk. The first sensation he had was how cool it was. So refreshing and so revitalizing that he had to take a second drink. After the second equally cool drink he inspected the bowl which didn't seem to have any less milk in it than before.

"Must be refrigerated," he said. "And spring fed," he chuckled to himself.

After finishing off his second cup and filling up the third, he finally set off in the direction of the figures again.

With his cup in one hand he strutted down the halls with a renewed vigor. But he also felt something else, something arousing. He couldn't explain where the heat came from that was starting to warm up his groin, but he didn't mind it in the least. He just took another swig of his refreshing milk.

If he would have been paying more attention,?he would have noticed the figures on the walls start to change again.? But this time, the change was different. The figures that mimicked Trent started to get a bulge in their cargo shorts.

Again Trent took a drink of his wonderful milk, but this time felt a stronger rush of heat to his member; which was starting to grow hard. The cocks of the figures on the wall started to grow hard, and then just started to grow.

Trent stopped for the first time since the first room and looked at the figures that surrounded him, and what he saw shocked him. All of the figures had a raging erection that had torn open their cargo shorts. But the longer he looked at the walls the more erect his own penis became, straining against the cargo shorts. And with another drink of milk he heard a ripping of cloth as he looked down to see his once six inch penis now fully erect and at least eight inches long. It looked like it had gotten thicker too, no wonder the flimsy shorts couldn't contain him any longer.

As surprised as Trent was of his new member, he couldn't control the buildup of lust that came over him. He gripped his eight inch cock and gasped at how sensitive it was. It made his body quiver and he almost collapsed on the spot. He stuck his arms out for balance, and almost spilled his milk, but at the last he second caught himself. He didn't remember his reaction time being that good.

This new cock and these new reflexes felt so good. He looked at his half full cup and he knew he wanted more!? Trent brought the cup to his lips and greedily gulped down the remaining milk. It felt as cool as ever, and he felt like he could scale a mountain.

"Well at least I know where to find one," he said out loud,?laughing in his euphoria.

"I wonder if I can find some more milk!" he shouted to the walls as he ran off down the hall.

At the gates, Trish was starting to get worried about Trent.

"I hope he's okay," she said to herself, worry showing on her freckled face.

She had finished her ration and the bottle of water she had found was nearly empty as she relaxed on top of her tank. The warm air of the planet made sure she didn't need a blanket, but it also made her thirsty. She drank the last of her bottled water before deciding to take a little cat nap.

In the halls of the mountain Trent was having the time of his life. His normally thin muscles had bulked up a bit, almost to the point where his T-shirt was too tight. He eagerly passed hallway after hallway, searching for some more of the delicious milk. Finally, he could smell it; it was just in the next room.

The following room looked just like the first milk room, but this time the man in the carving was much more well endowed. Trent walked up to the pedestal, eyes glued to the bowl of milk. He glanced for a second at the carving, only to notice the words "DRINK IF YOU DARE" carved into the stone.

"Psh, look at me! Why wouldn't I dare?" He proclaimed to the carving before dipping the second cup into the bowl.

Trent drank five cups of milk this time before he got full on it. After finishing his fifth cup, he let out a satisfied sigh, filled a cup for the road, and continued on. But this time, the changing of the figures was even more drastic.

Trent was walking down the next hallway when the arousal hit again. And this time he felt an odd sensation in his boots too. His cock immediately became erect again, but he couldn't focus on that as the feeling in his boots turned to sharp pain. He set his cup down and pulled his left boot off as fast as he could. What he saw shocked him almost more so than his enlarged penis had. Sticking out the end of his socks were five clawed toes, they had cut right through the fabric. He watched as his toes started to grow larger. His foot grew so large that his sock strained to the bursting point. Watching this happen, he forgot about his right foot as he felt a building pressure before hearing the ripping of his boot. His eyes went wide as he looked at his feet that were now five sizes larger. As he took his shredded socks off, he noticed that the bottom of his feet were hardening into pads. He went to feel these new pads, but before he could his body was wracked with another wave of arousal and pain. He held up his hands only to see his fingernails hardening and sharpening into more claws.

As he stared at his changing hands, something caught his attention. It was the figures, they were different. They had clawed hands and feet and...Were those tails!?!

No sooner than Trent saw the changed figures did he start to see what the full effects of the milk were. The figures on the wall were covered with fur. They had long feline tails and the heads of wild cats. But the worst part was that Trent loved it! His hands found his still erect penis and started to pump it. Even as he felt the start of what he knew would be his long, furry tail start to sprout from above his now firm ass, he continue to pump. He pumped as his feet began to expand, each toe growing larger with a clawed tip; his feet growing out of their socks. He pumped as his ears began to lengthen and move to the top of his head. He pumped as his hands became more paw-like, padding starting to form on his palms. He pumped as his entire body grew, straining his shirt and bursting the remnants of his shorts off.

But through all this,?it was still not enough. He couldn't find release.? He saw the full cup of milk on the floor next to him and picked it up. Whatever the consequences,?he had to have more! He chugged the last cup down, milk spilling out the sides of his mouth. He immediately felt something he had never felt before in his chest. His nipples were on fire! He gazed at the walls, hoping to see what was to come.

Tits! All of the figures had tits! Trent felt his chest start to swell, his nipples pushing hard against the already tight fabric of his shirt. With one clawed finger he sliced through the shirt just as his inflating chest burst out. He glanced again at the wall, confused?as to what was happening only to see something he wasn't expecting.? All of the figures not only had volleyball sized tits, but they all had two pairs! Trent moaned as he groped his swelling chest meat, the hard nipples nearly an inch long and as thick as dimes.

Then his second pair of tits started forming and he realized just how much his cock had grown! Just like the figures on the wall, Trent's twenty inch erection was reaching up to the bottom of his rapidly growing bottom tits. And it was still growing! The lengthening,?thickening cock was almost to the top row of tits when Trent noticed the fur on his arms and legs. It felt so good to have his body covered in fur. When the black, course fur reached the base of his penis, he shuddered as a fleshy sleeve formed around his girthy, now black, cock.

His ass felt funny on the floor. A glance to the wall showed the figures having juicy, grabable ass cheeks to match the four ripe tits on his chest. His four foot long tail had fully formed and was madly swishing back and forth in ecstasy.

Trent felt his face start to press out to look like the faces on the wall. His teeth lengthened, and his tongue flattened out. His eyes changed to green cat eyes, and he could see every shadow in the hallway. As the last of the fur covered his face, and his nose changed to be black and wet, Trent felt himself get closer and closer to release.

When sitting on the floor, the head of Trent's cock was just poking through the cleavage of his massive, black, furry tits. He couldn't ignore it anymore. He bent down and wrapped his new panther lips around the head of his massive cock and sucked as hard as he could. His fingers worked his new tits for all they were worth. As it turned out all four of his new tits were lactating,?the lubricant on his cock was enough to finally push him over the edge.

The torrent of tainted cum rained down on the hallway, the first baptism for Trent's new form.

He laid still for a few minutes, taking in the new feelings,?the new power, and the new lust. Almost as soon as he had finished, the lust came flooding back. He needed a way to find release again; he needed a way to share this with others.

He looked at the walls and noticed something new. A figure that looked like him fucking a woman in denim shorts and a white tank top, with a button down shirt.

"Yes," Trent said with a sly grin. He dabbed a bead of milk from his top right nipple and licked it off his finger.

"Refreshing"...