FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

"Got anything yet?"

The voice of a sheepish male sputters over your radio. It's Gene, of course, the one hiding back in the van, or "surveilling" as he says, even though you'd much rather have another hand on deck.

"Not yet," you radio back before holstering it. Jack and Carlos, the other members of your crew, do likewise. You've split up since your current area of investigation, a dilapidated manor that has acquired a tall stack of reports of unusual activity recently, is so large. You'd never be able to complete the initial survey in just a night as a trio, and Gene's sheepishness means pairs really aren't an option.

"Wait, wait," Jack speaks. "I got something. A mirror, it's..." a pause. You can almost hear everyone hold their breath. "Oh. It's nothing. Just a mirror. I swear I saw..." A nervous laugh. "Never mind. Sorry, guys."

You sigh. It's not like you wanted Jack to be accosted by an angry apparition, but it would beat your current assignment of meandering through the basement. It's packed with loads of junk, it's stuffy, and it's more than a little hot. You wipe some sweat from your brow. If paranormal activity really does cause freezing temperatures, then you're pretty sure whatever ghosts haunt this manor aren't here.

"Any activity?" Carlos chirps over the radio.

"Nope, nothing," Gene replies.

"Wonder if the van is close enough," Jack chimes in. "Gene, you didn't drive the van away, did you?"

"W-what?" Gene sputters. "O-of course not! Well, maybe a little."

"Gene!" Carlos and Jack screech over the radio.You might have joined in had you not caught sight of something white and oddly luminous in the dark basement, otherwise only illuminated by your flashlight.

You swivel towards the object and shine your light on it as your crew argues over the radio. Annoyed, you turn the volume down as you stare at what you found. It's a bleached, bone white skull, a canine one, but beyond that you can't tell what specific species it is. Wolf? Fox? Coyote? No, it's a-

Husky.

You blink. How do you know that? Canine skeletal anatomy is not a subject you are even passingly familiar with. Yet you know what type of skull it is, almost as if-

"Guys, guys!" Gene's voice is small, but you can make him out over the shouts of the others as you approach the skull. Still, you're not really paying attention because the skull appears to be smiling at you. That's silly, though. It's just your mind playing tricks! The skull isn't actually smiling at you cunningly, knowingly, enticing you to come closer and closer until-

Until you find yourself holding the skull with one hand while your other holds the light that shines upon it, not that you really need to. The pristine bone is so white it almost glows.

"Activity has gone up!" Gene shouts, but he sounds so far away, because he is.

"Are you sure?" someone says, but you're not sure who.

"Yes, just a little, but - whoa! It's spiked!"

You frown and lower your flashlight, holstering it momentarily as you try to adjust the volume on your radio. You look away from the skull and abruptly the weight of it in your hands lightens. You blink and then glance up. Your eyes widen as you see the skull floating in front of you and it's certainly smiling at you now. Two blue lights - its eyes - reside in its sockets, and those eyes stare at you...playfully? At least you think so. That's good. Playful doesn't mean violent but still - a ghost's a ghost.

You reach for your radio and hear your friends' frantic voices for only a moment more before it all turns to static. You frown and press down the button to speak, but there's just more static. Your flashlight flickers and then goes dark, leaving the only light in the room that of the skull's ominous blue eyes.

Instinctively you step back just as the skull whizzes forward, towards you. You mean to retreat further still, but then you feel a ghostly hand on your shoulder. Or is it a paw? Whatever it is, it's not cold like you expected the touch of the dead to be. Still, it keeps you firmly in place and you can only stare at the skull that is now eye to eye with you. It regards you with that impish gaze and then unexpectedly rotates up as if it was licking you, except it actually does lick you. A blue tongue slides across your face and you shiver even though the tongue is warm and only a little wet. For a moment you can see something standing before you, a full figured, dark grey furred, skull faced dog woman with a heavy pair of breasts and a curly tail that wags excitedly.

Then the moment - and the lick - ends.

The womanly figure vanishes and you can move again. Released from your paralysis, you simply fall onto your rear as the husky skull clatters to the floor along with your flashlight. It flickers on and off, on and off, as you reach a hand to your face where the skull impossibly licked you. You feel your face, and find the skin is rather dry. Parched, even. And where's your stubble? Your skin is more than dry, it's bone-dry and-

Your eyes go wide and you whimper as your skull abruptly aches. You grit your thickening, sharper teeth together and then, involuntarily, you let out what sounds like a canine whine as your jaw pushes forward. You can hear parts of you stretch and crack, but your skin, your flesh doesn't seem to be coming along for the ride. Panicked, you bring your hands to your face and feel around as your skin and what flesh lies between it simply fades away, as if your touch was dispelling an illusion. One moment your fingers are tracing over the ridge of your nose and then in the next they're feeling the protrusion of your stretching bony snout and the very apparent nasal cavity left behind. Your ears wiggle and you fear they're next to go, but instead they rise up a little on your changing cranium and reshape to be larger, triangular, and pointed with a layer of fine fur covering their exterior?

Fur...?

Yes. It seems only the front of your head is shedding skin and flesh, for while the majority of your hair falls to reveal a bare, bleached bone scalp, what remains on the back of your head becomes softer and thicker and a dark grey in coloration. This hair, no, this fur, spreads down the back of your head and then swirls around your thinning neck as its color becomes a little lighter. With a hack and a cough, your thickening, lengthening tongue slips out of your increasingly canine mouth as your neck thins. You whimper as you feel not only the spread of warm fur touch at increasingly slender shoulders, but also the odd sensation of your Adam's apple slipping from prominence on your neck. The pitch of your voice rises as it dwindles, and soon the gasps that escape your bony canine maw are undeniably feminine. Female? You're not a woman!

But the skull's spirit is...

You whine, and this time you sound very canine indeed even if the rest of you doesn't look the part. This seems to be rectifying itself, however, as that warm, dark grey fur sweeps down arms that become slender and toned before it reaches your hands. You grimace, the canines of your bleached skull pressing together as you curl and uncurl your thinning fingers. Your nails become more like claws as they extend into dark points, while pinkish paw-ish padding grows on the tips of your fingers and grey-furred palms. You have paws now, or something near enough to still be dexterous and useful. They're...heh, they're a little cute even.

You can't help but giggle a little as you touch at your paw padding, your beans, as that warm fur sweeps down your chest, pressing in your waist and diminishing your muscles in favor of a smooth stomach with a hint of chub that lends you a more feminine midsection. It becomes curvier still as your nipples perk and thicken, their color darkening to a familiar shade of grey. Soft flesh begins to bubble and swell beneath them, and soon your paws aren't the only thing with padding. You glance down, going cross-eyed for a bit as you become cognizant of the white protrusion in your vision now, your newfound bony snout, before you see just what that soft swelling beneath your shirt at your chest is, your stiff, perky nipples all too obvious beneath the fabric.

Breasts! You're growing breasts!

You bark and stumble to your feet, your burgeoning boobs bouncing a little. You cup them, stilling their movement only momentarily as they continue to swell. They're not going to be small and that's...okay? No, no. It's not ok. You're a male paranormal investigator, not some big breasted, skull faced husky girl! But-

What's wrong with that?

You blink. You're not sure. What is wrong with that? Breasts are nice, aren't they? Sensitive and squishy and fun to play with? Don't you want your own? A big, perky pair that'll hang heavily on your chest, ones that'll be impossible to conceal beneath a simple shirt? One that you can let your friends heft and hold and maybe your better friends do dirtier things with?

W-wait! You shake your head and close your eyes, canine ears laying back. Your shiver as you not only feel your tits swelling in your paws, but also that warm fur spreading down to your hips and your crotch. Your cock springs to attention while your hips pull apart. At first you whimper and whine, but soon you're panting and moaning as your hips grow wider and wider, womanly hips for a womanly husky. You urge them to become wider still, and so they do while the fur spreads down to your legs.

You rub your thighs together and wish them to be thicker to be more in line with your increasingly feminine form, your desire fulfilled as they thicken with fat. They're soft and warm, a little chunky now. Your rear joins in on the growth, your once flat butt becoming rounder and softer and much more appealing too as they softly swell along with your chest. The problem with that though, the problem with all of your changes really is that you're...you're...

You place a hand on your head, claws tapping at your skull.

What was the issue again?

Ah, yes. The expansion of your hips, the thickening of your thighs, the roundness of your rear, the still-ongoing swelling of your breasts...the problem is that it causes your clothes to be either too tight or too loose. Even as you wiggle your wide, soft hips, your pants slacken and then simply slide down past your generous rear, ending up around your too-tight shoes.

You frown, or at least try to with your skullish face, as you flex your toes in your footwear. You pant, your long tongue sliding out of your jaws as the fur finally covers your feet, the last untouched portion of your once human body.

Now you are completely covered in fur- well, save for your skull of a face. Or is it your face of a skull? You ponder this thought for only a moment, before you hear something - or really, two somethings - tear as your feet refuse to be confined any longer. Five toes on each foot become four thicker digits as they burst with growth, taking on a different shape yet similar function. Your toenails become true claws that are as white as your bone while pink pads cover the bottom of your paws.

You yelp and stumble forward out of your ruined shoes, claws clicking against the floor as your heels abruptly lift. Eyes still closed, you flail in the darkness and luckily catch yourself onto a shelf while your stance switches to digitigrade. It's missing something, however, and you whine as you lean over, slowly ballooning breasts resting on the shelf. You give them a gentle squeeze, shivering as the soft flesh mashes together as something presses out of your spine. A different something soon presses against your boxers too and you let out a dry hiss, for the sensation of your cock confined within your boxers somehow feels stranger than the tip of your tail emerging from the base of your spine and wiggling out from there.

You reach into your boxers and wrap a paw around your dick. What's wrong with it? You've always had one. Always and yet never, because she never did. At least not organically. Sometimes she'll have one thrust into her sensitive folds or mouth, but a cock is not something she possessed. No, no. She - you - don't have one. Don't need one.

So why are you so reluctant to let it go? And why can't you open your eyes?

You try to, but you simply cannot. Your eyes are gone now, the sockets in your skull simply empty. Gone - yet they could return as they should be, wispy blue eye-flames that can certainly see without the assistance of a flashlight, eyes that can see and seize and shape others to how she, how you desire. And what better is there to desire than you? You smile, the expression easy on your skull. There's only a couple more adjustments to be made and you'll soon see.

As your tail still grows behind you, thicker and longer and curling like a husky's should, you swipe at your shirt with your free hand. The fabric tears beneath your claws easily enough. You wiggle your shoulders and the tatters fall away, your breasts finally bouncing free. You can feel their size and weight on your chest, but they haven't reached their full size yet. Not yet, but soon enough.

Still, you grab one and squeeze. You pant and then pull your boxers down slightly, your boxers so stretched by your wide hips and your deliciously thick thighs that it rips and bursts aparts, your underwear falling in tatters around your paws. You step out of them and wiggle your tail. Naked now, you grab your cock in both hands. You pause for a moment. Is this really what you want? To completely become this thick, busty skull faced dog woman? To let go of what you were and take on a wholly different form?

Yes.

You nod, ears forward in affirmation.

Yes.

And so you press your cock into your crotch. The flesh does not yield, not at first. You give into one last base desire, rubbing up and down the length of your shaft with one hand while the other returns to squeezing a supple breast. You tweak a nipple and pant, leaning back against that shelf. Your tail wags in excitement as you bring yourself closer and closer to that one last male orgasm, as you come closer to completing this curvy, canine form. Just a bit more, a bit more and-

Ah!

You howl as you come, your masculinity spurting out of you in sticky, shaky white jets. You shiver and moan, wiggling your hips and rubbing your thick thighs together as you continue to come, the pitch of your voice rising a bit higher, a bit lighter as you let go of what you once were. Your hips ache as they stretch a little thicker, your rear jiggles as it becomes properly plush and plump, and your tits surge in size, they experiencing one last rush of growth as the last of your masculinity leaves you. You whine, the noise echoing in the basement as your once-stiff cock starts to soften and then shrink.

Slowly, motes of blue light form in your once empty eye sockets as you press your paw against your cock, coaxing it smaller and smaller. It retreats and retracts while your vision returns, sharper and more vibrant than before, the dark no longer holding any secrets from you. The smile on your bony snout impossibly deepens as you press both shaft and shrunken testicles up and into the start of a slit that eagerly accepts your offerings. You shiver, rear jiggling as your feminine folds quiver and then unfold ever so slightly into your new womanhood, the only remainder of your masculinity being the shrunken, nubby clit nestled near the top. You slip a finger in and give it a little tease, panting while doing so. It's already wet and leaking a little, the fur around your crotch slightly soaked, but it's finished.

You're finished, complete. A curvy, busty skull-faced husky in shape and spirit, just as you are meant to be.

You pant, your pale blue tongue lolling out before you stand up. Your unsupported breasts jiggle and bounce, but soon come to a stop as you cup them, or try to cup them in your paws. They're large - huge, some would say - but they're the perfect size for you...and anyone you come across, you suspect.

You tweak your thick, sensitive nipples and hiss happily, before letting your heavy yet perky breasts hang free on your chest. You turn your attention to the rest of your body, running your paws down your pressed in waist and admiring the soft fur that adorns your body. It'll keep you warm even in the coolest climes, a boon when paranormal activity is said to cause unusual cold. You chuckle, placing your hands across your rather wide hips as you glance down at your long legs. You have the proper pawfeet of a canine, leading up to plump thighs that you could probably crush a watermelon between, if you wanted to. Further up still, nestled between your legs is your slick slit, though you're already acquainted with that. Or are you? Maybe not with this newest body, but you soon shall be. Why not give yourself a test now?

You chuckle, tail wagging over your plump rump in anticipation of what's to come when you hear a crackle and then someone call a name. Your ears swivel. Tentatively, you glance over to the radio holstered to the pants you discarded not long ago. There's a flashlight nearby too, and it's no longer flickering. You hear someone call that name again and you move towards the radio. It's not your name, not anymore - but you still should answer. How else are you going to have your fun?

"Check in, check in!" Gene says. "A-activity is down to nothing. The hunt is over! Are you there?"

You pick up the radio and raise it to the skull that is your face, or is it your face that is a skull? You can't help but smile.

"I'm here," you say, mimicking a voice that is no longer truly yours.

"Oh, thank god!" Gene sighs. "We were worried, we thought-"

"Don't worry," you purr, absentmindedly squeezing a breast. "I'm fine. More than fine, really. Why don't you come down to the basement? I think I've found something you'd all like to see."

"S-sure thing, Jack and Carlos will be right there!"

"Why don't you come too, Gene?" you chuckle, eyes alight as your voice becomes husky, sensual, and preternaturally convincing even between radio waves. You shiver in anticipation of what is soon to come. You wouldn't mind some other breasts to squeeze than your own and you're sure they'll love being you as much as you do. "The more the merrier...!"