FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

When Dustin was little, like a lot of us when we're little, he read a book about bees.

Bees were cool. Like some people, they had a queen! They took stuff called 'nectar' out of flowers, and they made honey with it. Coolest of all, when they found a lot of flowers, they would go back into their hive where all the other bees were, and do a dance to show them all where they'd been.

Dustin had always loved dancing, which exhausted his parents. Just the idea of a wild animal dancing as part of its daily life was incredible to little Dustin. This idea was responsible for three broken glasses in Dustin's childhood home (or at least three), as his mother never stopped reminding him now.

Now, of course, thanks to the Orb-Weavers, he got to be one. To be a bee.

It was unthinkably absurd, but so was Dustin's whole life, now. He'd moved in with Spiders, for instance. He'd been taken to Spider shows, and been ensorcelled by at least five of them. He was introduced to magics used for entertainment purposes which, in other situations, would count as war crimes.

This was one such trick. The act was simple: the two Spider magicians would wrap you in a silk cocoon, and make a big show of it. After some strange motions and noises, some of which were played on speakers for added effect, you'd emerge from that cocoon, changed.

You'd think the motion of your anatomy, the shifting of your basic shape and internal features, would at least be painful, but no. Dustin had never heard any screams or moans of pain from the Wolf that became a Spider, back when he attended Clutter. Now, he knew for himself. The transformation process was completely painless. In fact, it felt kind of good, just jarring, and bizarre.

In the course of changing into a Bee, he hadn't even shrunk, just reshaped. Dustin's view of the world was now totally different. He smelled through his legs, and through his antennae. The feeling of six limbs and antennae was the biggest change, to begin with, and he'd taken a good ten minutes just learning how to walk.

He could sense the buzzing he made in the air at the same time as hearing everything else around them.

Colours were different - there were some colours he couldn't see as well, but some new ones that he could. He knew this because there was a strange pattern of them on everything. The world had gone greyscale, then someone had painted it with luminous ink. Was that infrared, or ultraviolet? The stripes of it were purple at the edges, but wholly, indescribably new within.

The twins were different from one another, now, because of these colours. The small white marks on them were gone, but there were spiralling tattoo-like markings over both of them in the strange new colour. Both were spiralling, but the one to his left had a mass of discs with that curl inside, and the other's patterns branched out from one another like the fronds of a plant.

Dustin's happiness tried to make itself known, but with the current apparatus, it couldn't. His lips and mouth were gone, and he was left with a flower of odd plates. Inside them, he could feel a weird, long tongue, of two zipped-together parts. He buzzed and wiggled his new, fuzzy abdomen.

Dustin gave over to instinct and flew onto the wall and began the dance that was written out inside him. He mapped the way to his house. To the gym he'd just spoken with LP in. To...

...he was flying. He was flying to collect. No, now he was caught, in a web, and struggling, and two huge Spiders began to wind him in silk, and he was going to...

...a series of weird sensations later, Dustin was himself, again.

"How was life as a Bee?" a quiet voice asked in his ear.

"Good," the human said, dazed. Dustin's memories began to refill themselves. He realised that he was naked, his clothes discarded in a corner of the room. This was fine, though, because after a second, he remembered he'd volunteered for that. There was still some odd, lingering slime all over him. "Little much, towards the end, but good."

"Good," the voice said. Dustin looked upwards, and saw him - this was the one who had the circular marks, he was fairly sure. "My name's Amraimra. You'll call me Amra."

Dustin nodded his acknowledgement.

Another voice spoke, in his other ear. This one was hoarser - maybe he smoked?

"You wanna keep going...? It's our choice what you change into next, though."

"Yes," Dustin replied. "Do..." he laughed, and tried wiping some slime off his face and hair. It was useless. "Do your worst."

"Ah, you're a good kid," the second twin said. This was the branching one. "I'm Pokredde. You'll call me Pokr." It rhymed with 'ochre', which was weird, as the Weaver wasn't anywhere near that colour. Whatever. "You liked the colours, huh?"

"How'd you know?"

"Didn't, you just told me in the dance," Pokr said. "We'll do a smaller change next. You needed a lot of help staying human after that Bee stuff. If we'd left you, you'd have flown off to join a Hive somewhere."

Dustin stood up on the attic floor, and the pair deployed two limbs each to snare him once again. A lasso of silk rope went around his arms, and another his knees, and he was hoisted up smoothly, despite some instinctive wriggling.

"How small will the change be?" Dustin said, suddenly concerned for his body.

"Very small," said Amra.

"Minuscule!" said Pokr.

"Okay," Dustin said, and he tried not to get scared of them shrinking bits of him. His mind happened on something he'd been ignoring, and he felt a surge of fear, of shame, of something else, and he closed his eyes tight, but that bundle of emotion wouldn't go away.

He was moving out in a few days.

The Spiders began to wrap him in sheets of silk, humming a simple tune between themselves. It became a kind of improvised song, between the two of them, each note slotting perfectly into the other.

Dustin was hard, really helplessly hard, and he tried to ignore that he was moving out of his friends' apartment to live on his own. All on his own.

A series of strange sloshing sounds - and cracks, which felt very, very good - and the sheets began to unwind again. Dustin was unrolled onto a silk net without any glue on it, and made an undignified little noise as he did so.

Dustin looked at his hands. His hands looked the same, except -

• there were many, many new colours, now. Unlike when he was a Bee, the world wasn't in greyscale, it was the same - just with that new set of colours splashed on.

"Gave you different eyes," Pokr said. "Now you can see even more."

And he could. Everything around him - everything of him - had new and exquisite levels of detail he'd never seen before. (Some were just stains, but they were beautiful, now that Dustin could really see them.)

All of the normal colours were there, just... more complicated. The tattoos on Pokr and Amra had returned, but there were other, newer spirals in other, newer colours.

Dustin laughed like a child.

"Thanks, you two," he said. He must have looked really dumb, he thought, naked and sitting in their web, gawping at everything around him in abject wonder.

"He can handle this?" Pokr said.

"Probably," Amra said.

"What's 'this'?" Dustin said, and the net around him fell loose, tangling him up. "Hey, wait!"

The fact he could see so many new colours made everything around him seem new, and had messed with his sense of direction. That meant he completely lost any sense of where he was as he was spun around in that net. Pokr and Amra hefted him up, and spun him round and round, first wrapping the rest of the net around them, then coiling single, thick rope of silk around him. Dustin couldn't tell who it came from, but it was warm, so it was new.

He was still so hard. There was no hiding it. If they couldn't see it, they could feel it as they moved him. He could, himself, see it. His cock poked out of a hole in the net, and essentially hooked there as the net and rope were wrapped around him.

"Looks like he likes it," Pokr said. They stopped their spinning and attached the rope to a rafter. "May we...?"

"Huh?" Dustin said.

Pokr gestured to his cock.

"What do you mean?"

Pokr rolled his eyes.

"Can we play with your cock, you moron?"

"I can't stop you," Dustin said. He was blushing very hard, but couldn't pull his face away.

"You have stopped me until you say that I can do it," Pokr said. "Come on, man."

Dustin hesitated. He was very well-practiced at hesitating now.

"Okay," he said.

"No, not 'okay'," Pokr said. "Do you want this or not?"

"Yes," Dustin said.

"Finally," Pokr said. He wrapped his smoothly furred fingers around Dustin's cock, and Dustin stiffened and wriggled - only he didn't, because that rope wrapped round the net tied around him pulled tight. Pokr's fingers were furry and soft, but there was a soft, waxy skin in the palm, almost slippery. Dustin couldn't help a big smile breaking out as this happened.

Then it stopped.

"Huh?"

He was turned, again - round and round, the rope unwound, and he was held upright --

-- and Amra kissed him. His palms were soft, but not - not hairy. Smooth, like Pokr's. There was something moving in the middle of them, and Dustin could feel it on his cheeks, but not quite work out what it was.

He felt Pokr's hands, again. They were between his thighs, palming the inside. Dustin squirmed, as if he was trying to get away. As if he would ever, in any conceivable version of this situation, want to get away.

Of course, they had more than the one pair of hands each, and over the course of the next several minutes, those many two-clawed legs moved and wrapped over Dustin. He was warmed by it, surrounded, and once he was properly enfolded, Pokr stroked his cock.

He felt certain he was going to cum, held like this, trapped like this, and then the fuckers started to tickle him.

Tickle him, and grip, tightly, round his cock. Dustin wasn't sure which of them was doing it, because he couldn't move his head. Even though he was laughing and struggling, Amra was still fucking kissing him. His weird-ass mouth ('chelicerae') unfolded to hook those fangs round the back of Dustin's head and pull their mouths together.

It was gross, but hot. Really, honestly, Dustin was too turned on to care about 'gross'.

Dustin tried to be too turned on to remember his life outside.

This, with them, was so good, so... comfortable. He was tied up tight, so he couldn't fuck this up, or get away. There was no chance of failure, no chance of pissing them off. (They seemed fairly easy-going. Wait, were they actually brothers?)

A part of Dustin wanted one, or the other, or both of them, to fuck him. This was despite the fact he'd never, really, looked up how anal sex worked. He'd heard a gay friend back in college, drunk off his ass, talking about all the different rituals bottoms had to go through just to receive. The diets, the laxatives, the douching.

Dustin cursed himself for not learning them by rote and performing them before leaving home every day, ass ready for entry. (This was the only time in his life when he'd think this.)

Only briefly, though. It was hard to hold onto any kind of coherent thought when jerked off, tickled, and kissed at the same time. Oddly, the feelings never seemed to coincide. It was like water shaken with oils, each layering one at a time. He was happy, or he was aroused, or he was helplessly trying not to laugh.

"Guys," Dustin said, "Guys, guys --"

"Yes, we know," Amra said. "We know we're guys." He wrapped his hand around Dustin's cock and squeezed it almost painfully, silencing any thought in Dustin's mind, and relieving him of the tension of --

-- but no, it wasn't relieving anything. Amra was stroking him, building that tension and need again, and --

-- letting go. Damn him.

Dustin whimpered, and struggled again. He was begging, but he was only aware of it distantly. That fell on blessedly deaf ears. If this ended, if he was made to or allowed to cum now, he'd never have forgiven himself.

What a weird thought to have. Dustin's hole felt the fur on Pokr's finger for just a fraction of an instant, and his mind stopped working.

They were guys, both guys, and... Dustin's thighs felt fingers push between and spread them, and his mind stopped working.

They thought they were keeping him on edge, but this new stimulus was almost too much for him. Almost. It wasn't going to work. He was going to spill, and... and lose his... oh, he didn't even want to think about it, about how much he wanted it.

Would it be so bad? To cum for them? To lose it right here, to strangers? No, it wouldn't be bad, but... there was a sense that he needed closure.

Before ejaculating.

Yeah, that made sense.

It made sense while he was being deliciously edged by two giant Spider-people, at least.

"I need you to stop," he said, in a whisper. He hoped they wouldn't hear.

But they did.

Gradually, they slowed down, and let him down to the ground. Pokr looked in his face, and rubbed his temples, and cooed to him. Once it was apparent that Dustin was all right, and the panic had faded away, he tucked Dustin's face carefully into his fuzzy chest, and ran his four pairs of hands along his back...

...and Amra's eight hands closed firmly over his thighs and feet and sides, warming him up as though he were fully clothed again...

...and after what felt like fifteen minutes of that, once Dustin had calmed down completely and relaxed, the bastards started tickling him again.

Back home, Dustin felt half of a great happiness, half of a monumental satisfaction. Life was half better than it was.

It was Simon, the Tarantula, who noticed the 50% glow first. Simon's friend (and landlord, for the next few days) tugged him into a hug on his way to the kitchen. He was tall enough that this required lifting Dustin bodily off the ground. Simon's huge hands removed his shoes and socks for him for him - and his bag, and his coat... and started kneading tension out of his back. And feet. And sides.

"You've been busy," the Spider said. "You're all cramped."

"Mmhm," Dustin said, delighting in the passivity of it. Simon always knew exactly how to touch him.

Eventually, of course, the fact Dustin hadn't showered would occur to Simon. Spiders could, Dustin had learned the previous week, taste with their hands and feet. A bizarre way of living, and one which meant there wasn't anything Dustin could do that his friends wouldn't know about eventually, given they were constantly touching him.

So, as always, Simon's hands snuck beneath Dustin's shirt. Dustin trusted him completely, of course, and the snuggly Tarantula had never gone too far with him - he was very good at the body language thing - just...

"Oh," Simon said. There it was. "So you've had fun, have you...?" The touch changed. He wasn't squeezing anything out of Dustin anymore. He was running a single finger up and down his spine, slowly. "Talk to Uncle. Tell me everything."

Dustin hid in Simon's thick fur and, thus muffled, explained everything.

"It's not that I'm gay, just..." Over the course of the explanation of the previous night - L.P., the twins, and the visions and vision he had with them - all three of Dustin's other masters came home. They joined Simon in listening to him. The lot sat in a circle around him in mid-air, hung on little hammock-seats Jamal had spun for them. Dustin had barely noticed them, when he said into Simon's chest, "I'm gay."

"Yeah," Simon said, stroking his hair.

"I'm a gay man," Dustin said.

"Yeah, you are." Simon nodded, and kissed his temple, and kept holding him.

"It..." Dustin hiccupped. "It was really obvious, wasn't it?"

"Totally," Simon said, without audible judgement.

"I'm a stupid bitch," Dustin sobbed.

"Nope," Simon said. "Not stupid, not a 'bitch'. Just a big ol' gay. Biggest, gayest ol' gay we got."

Dustin clutched at Simon's fur, and kept crying for a while. He became aware of the others there, but his embarrassment neither went up or down.

"I nearly had sex with two guys before even admitting it," Dustin said.

"Lots of times, yes," Simon said, neglecting to mention that by some definitions, Dustin had, in fact, had gay sex several times.

"What do I even do?"

"We'll show you," Simon said, enfolding Dustin completely in an eight-armed hug. "We'll teach you the gay, son. Show ya where to go. After all..."

Simon squeezed down tight.

"You're only moving one building along."

"I guess so," Dustin sighed. "I just feel like I need you guys."

"Give us copies of the keys?"

"... I... never thought of that."

"Problem solved."

It was.