FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

Life just likes to throw curveballs at people. I'd like to think that's true because there's no other reason I can conceive of making any sense of what happened to me on that fateful day.

Thanks to circumstances beyond my control, I found myself, a young, influential, and a rather handsome fellow stuck at home with nothing to do. Sure, I could binge hours upon hours of video games and movies and waste my time on social media. Even that sort of interest got old after a while. My extroversion made me feel like I was going insane. The dismal state of my apartment wasn't doing me any favors.

You see, I was a pig. Well, not really, but you get the idea. I would spend most of my life out and about and just crash at home when I had nowhere else in particular to sleep or snack. It was work, parties, the gym, and friends for this guy, yes sir. But spending days and even weeks stuck in that tiny place as such a big strong man. So, I did what I thought I was never prepared to do—I got myself together and started some serious spring cleaning.

By the time I had cleaned up the living room, I felt pretty high on myself—yeah, I can do this. I feel like I accomplished something for real. And since I kept the bathroom and kitchen clean, I only had my bedroom left.

Now, you'll think I'm a total slob for this, but I have to admit that I never cleaned my bedroom. I was never really a “bring someone to my place" type, so don't you look funny when I tell you the truth: I never really looked under my bed.

Crazy, right? There's crazier stuff out there, and you're listening to proof of that right now. But for me back then, there was nothing more crazy than what I saw when I shoved my bed off to the side to get the wet-vac into hard-to-reach places.

Underneath the bed where I would often spend so much time a night, there was, I kid you not, a puddle. Not just a puddle, but, like, a pothole? I didn't know what it was—still don't, despite how much I've learned since then. The stuff reflected pretty well, and I couldn't help but stare at my distorted features looking back at me. It's just so nuts, right? I dunno.

I was trying to figure out what the thing was when I noticed that I had my hand outstretched towards it like I was drawn to it. It was like something out of a movie—and I was the dumb bastard people would be screaming at. “Don't do it. No, you idiot!"

Well, I may have been a dumb bastard, but that angry little bastard under my bed practically growled at me and launched onto my arm.

At first, it was cold, and then it was warm, and then it rolled up along my arm and underneath my shirt. I screamed like a little girl then and there, unbecoming of a big strong man, right? Heh, yeah, ironic, huh?

While I was flailing about like some kind of dumbass, I fell over my vacuum and landed face-first on the bed.

The damn stuff started to tickle as it trickled down my chest. It constricted around my throat, and I was about to go into full-blown shock before it relaxed and traveled up my chin. I scrambled out to the bedroom to find out what the hell was going on. I ran into the bathroom, throwing off my shirt, only to find that the shit was halfway over my face and covering my entire upper body.

I still remember how fast my heart was beating then and there. It wasn't out of fear… well, sure, at first it was, but like, once I saw it, once I really got to connect the strange feelings to the sight before me, something else started to click.

It was curiosity, anxiety, intrigue. Every time it did something, pinch me, squeeze me, scratch me, and I reacted negatively, it held back. It was like the stuff had a mind of its own, and it was trying not to make me feel bad… it was trying to make me feel good.

Now, back then, fantasy stuff was the realm of cartoons for me, you know? But I had a thought, a feeling, that this was something out of a cartoon or something, and the more I thought about it, well, the more it made sense. The more I could sense. It was like I was feeling the goop, and the goop was letting me feel what it felt.

I was touching myself in a way I'd never done so before.

So great, worst-case scenario, I get off before this thing eats me. Best case—this is my superhero origin story. So, I relax and sit on the edge of my tub. I run my hands over the silvery stuff covering my body, feeling the ripple and the electric shock of pure delight as it trembled up my body.

Whatever was happening, it felt so fucking good. I nutted up right then and there, and I shoved my hands down my pants. Yeah, crude, whatever. When I fumbled my covered fingers around, I nearly doubled over in the excitement. I had something I never realized I could--an actual, honest pussy!

I stared up at the mirror again, and my face was covered, and I didn't see my eyes looking back at me, but these bright blues, large, expressive, and so, fucking horny.

It was then I started to notice that this goop was changing me.

I mean, you wouldn't know it right now, but I used to be big, pretty damn big, really. And it wasn't just my ego; it was my everything. Now, I wouldn't say I was a giant, but I was comfortable in a room. But as that goop covered me, forming around me like it was making a mold, I could feel everything just escape from me. The size of the room of space all seemed to grow larger as I curled up into a ball of a tingling mess. I was dizzy at first, but I scrambled to grab onto the coffee table and, well, I was an awkward thing at that new height, and it took me a few tries to grab on and stand up, my legs feeling like jelly.