FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

Trees, trees and more trees. They're the only thing I've seen in hours; the smear of green is wearing on my eyes. I stop for a moment to shift about the pack on my back, feet scuffing the dirt beneath my feet. Compared to the surrounding forest, the path is a reassuring beacon of civilisation promising that I'll be out of the woods soon. Maybe. In the last town, no-one had given me a straight answer about just how long I'd be walking.

I restart my walk towards the next town, my steps light after the lunch I ate after the sun reached its peak in the sky. By now it's too late to set up shop and I'll be stuck in Othieln overnight before I can hawk my wares in the morning. At this point I'll just have to deal with it; it's hardly the worst delay I've had since I started trudging away from our nation's capital, Stonekeep towards the borderlands of the north. Good business now that the bandits are mostly gone, and the newfound prosperity of the region makes my flower seeds a useful commodity. Slow travel though. Lots of dirt paths and strange roads that go nowhere; the north has always been said to be an enchanted land, and our nation ends soon after Othieln. The magic beyond is too much for even the most determined farmers and adventurers to set up a home beyond those walls.

Sunset burns the sky before too long, and I am still walking through the forest. Where will my path end, if ever? I consider climbing up a tree to see if Othieln is anywhere near, if I should risk pushing along and sleeping outside the gates instead of in the forest. But I'm so tired I realise I should set up camp here and now, and hope no strange magic finds me.

Everything goes without a hitch. Nothing comes to harass my magic repelling tent or me. The forest's sounds wind down for the night and everything becomes quiet except for the chirps of crickets, which sing their song through the night.

But my dreams are strange. I am circling my tent in irritation, gnashing my teeth; how could I get in there? I so badly want to go in and rip out whatever's hidden between those walls, which won't yield to my senses. It is an inert wall what repels me until I go back into the forest and everything becomes dark. Tomorrow is when I'll have to strike; I can't afford to wait any longer.

"What?" I ask the shadowy dawn while rubbing my temples. Dreams like that in the most magical wilderness in the world aren't a good sign, even if I dream of things and people waiting to get get into my tent and wares regularly. It's just part of life on the road, really. I don't like it happening here though; what if the magic of the forest is getting into me? Perhaps I should turn back to the last town, because I still don't know when I'll reach Othieln.

I could be closer by now to Othieln though; if I turned back, I wouldn't be able to make any sales and I might end up sticking around in dangerous land for even longer than I should be. My hands go back to my temples as stoke a fire to make my breakfast. When the time comes to leave Othieln, I'm hiring a horse and guards, even if it cuts into my earnings. Or better still; I take the toll road.

I only notice the tracks once I pack. Deep ruts in the moist mud off the path, water flooding them; it probably rained in the night, which means they've been there for hours. Electricity runs over the back of my neck as I reach out to them, trying to read what they are, which isn't easy because I know little about tracking animals and they're messy. What I can see is that they have four toes and a paw pad with no claws. My best guess is that they're those of a giant cat. Another tremor goes down my spine. Giant cats should not be here, and I've heard stories from those who go south of how deadly tigers and sabre-toothed cats can be.

Before leaving, I pull something out of my pack that hasn't seen use for ages, my bow and arrows. They've been horribly neglected and I never quite got the hang of maintaining and using them in the first place, so I have doubts about how my bow will hold, let alone if I'd be able to catch anything. Hopefully, a warning shot will scare whatever's stalking me off.

The forest feels threatening now. The birds and squirrels coursing through the canopy of leaves feel like a facade for something much darker; I find the body of a beakless hawk on the path and scoot around it, gorge rising. In the bushes, something rustles.

I have my bow nocked already, but freeze when the creature charges towards me. An aged human face snarling with hatred glares at me, a human chest below it. But that is the only humanity on the giant, winged lion, which has its claws unsheathed and ready to dig into my throat, claws drawing bright lines of blood on my left arm.

Too late, I react, knowing I cannot run from the beast. Somehow I have the presence of mind to grab an arrow as the bow slips out of my hand in terror, and thrust it forward.

It lands between the human chest and lion fore legs, not digging in deep enough to kill, but deep enough to make the beast stagger, wings flaring. It doesn't speak despite its human face. As I watch it stalk around and analyse me, I see the skin clinging to its ribs. This beast does not know how to hunt.

Pity doesn't spare my hand. I pick up my bow and nock it again. This time my clumsy shot hits it right between those ribs, digging in somewhere deep. It immediately tips over. Despite myself, I walk towards it, fascinated by the strange beast that attempted to kill me.

To my surprise, the wrinkled face smiles, lion's tail swishing in pleasure. "My kind are almost gone now; my sons have no-one to be with. Now that you have been marked, they will breed at last." And with that, it sprang to its feet and bolted into the forest with my arrows still stuck in it.

What the fuck? That was the only thing I could think as I trembled and continued onwards, chest aching from the air I gasped in and out like a drowning person. The cuts the creature scratched are already sealed, which is good, I suppose. I need to run before it enacts whatever strange plan it had- did it not say it had sons?

As I run, I remember what variety of beast I may have encountered from books I'd read back at home. Sphinx, a rare beast thought to be extinct with a human head and a bit of a chest that melted into the body of a winged lion. Once I reach Othieln I ought to tell them what lurks in the woods, just in case they cause more trouble. But I'm slowing down again, because my chest is really aching.

I don't risk taking off my pack, which means I awkwardly pull my coat off me as the minutes slide by and the warm, somewhat painful sensation in my chest intensifies. My heart is beating fit to burst, hands trembly and weird feeling. Must be the panic of the situation getting to me, I think as I wrap my coat around me. The breeze against my chest makes it feel even more sensitive.

A hill juts forth and I have a long, sweaty climb up it. However, once I reach the top, I gasp; the trees fall away at the peak, letting me see a horizon full of trees, and in the distance, soft blue in the bright light of the midmorning, buildings and city walls. I'm close, really close. Hopefully, I'll be there by tonight. I smile, before a sudden twinging on my chest forces me to look down again, breathing heavily.

My nipples bulge through the thick tunic I have on, sharp dents in the fabric. They've grown, looking like grapes upon my tits. I touch them and pull my hands away quickly; the sharp bolts of arousal my fingers brushing against them caused shocks me. It feels like for a split second a horny cloud fuzzed over my brain.

I back away as if I'll leave my nipples behind that way, my tits jiggling more than they ought to. They're bigger, domes stretching out the fabric of my tunic as I watch, pushing my inflated nipples against them and making me pant. My hand goes for my crotch, my lingerie drenched.

They aren't the only thing that's drenched. My nipples are creating dark, damp stains as they thrust outwards with my swelling chest. Milk, part of me thinks, tearing off my braies. For some reason my hands are feeling stiff and awkward, their attempts to peel off my panties failing until I grit my teeth and put one last effort in. Somehow it works; they fall in pieces to the floor.

However, it isn't my efforts that ripped off my panties after all; it is the little claws sprouting from my big, swollen paws. Pads swell from the clumsy fingers.

It isn't just my tits swelling. I'm growing paws; the world crashes around me. I'm turning into a sphinx. Turning cold and gulping, I reach for my braies. It's too late now, because my paws can't put them on. They're as good as useless.

I stand there naked from the waist downwards, terrified, as my chest strains against my tunic. My tits burst out of it, making the ruined shreds sag down. Now I'm fully naked, with useless paws and massive tits that would make me the centre of attention in any town if I dared keep going. In short: I'm stuck here in this humiliating form, growing less and less human by the second.

My knees bend under the weight of my body. Tears burn my eyes as I catch my fall with my paws; my legs will no longer carry me. I totter about uselessly, unable to go anywhere on all fours.

And it makes me horny. First my feet change, stretching. My feet swell into massive, stiff digits. Fur tickles at my burning crotch- my pussy is a mass of swollen, darkened folds I want to grope at to let me satisfy myself. I pant against my will, tongue hanging from my mouth, still crying. I don't know if I want this to stop at once or if I want to be fucked first.

Because I can't walk, I sprawl on the ground and grind myself against it for release from my yearning nipples and cunt. Claws in the ground, a burning pleasurable sensation building at the base of my spine, I let loose an animalistic yowl of desperation. I can't free myself from the wait of my horniness; I make a hazy deal with myself in my brain. If I can come, I'll be able to think, be able to reverse what's happening to me and continue selling my wares. And still no orgasm releases me.

More tears. I'm trapped, my spine arching like that of a cat's. I look and see my jiggling, still human rear standing to attention in the air sprout sleek yellow fur. There's a bump on my spine that isn't quite as arousing as my nipples and cunt- still, wriggling as it makes another surge of juices wet the fur around my crotch. It's growing rapidly, covered in fur, something no human should ever have. I avert my eyes and stumble over to a tree stump. Before this I would've gagged at how dirty this was; now I don't give a fuck. I'm growing a tail, I have to come.

I hump it furiously and it works far better than the earth, though it doesn't fill up my longing folds. My tits thowp about in the air, nipples spurting milk as they bounce around. My lip curls, eyes going unfocused. A little bit more, just a little bit more.

I've felt nothing like it; when the sensation first roars through me, my hazy brain fears I've somehow caught on fire. Every fibre, every strand of my being sings with the orgasm, a furious stream of liquid streaming from tits and pussy alike. I writhe in the waves of it, screaming to let out that pent up energy, writhing so hard on the coarse bark of the stump I dig deep gouges into it with my claws.

As I pump my ass in the air, I notice something. A twitchy, swishing something. The tail has grown fully out of my ass, which is now covered in fur but still far more shapely than the rump of a beast should be. My orgasm did nothing to stop my transformation. Worse, I noticed as I stumbled away that my tits were getting into the way of my motion because they were so big. I had made everything worse than it was already, and it seemed there was no going back. The traction made me dizzy from horniness again, my cunt building up to another explosive orgasm.

I don't want this, God, I don't want this. If I could run, I would've rushed into the woods and hunted down that old sphinx until I got a chance to tear out his throat. Speaking of which; had he said he had sons? And they would want to...

My thought completed itself when I smelled that musky, overwhelming scent. He bounded with ease up the slope, face like his father may have looked like as a young man himself, with an insolent, disinterested look of his own; he yawned like he'd already gotten bored with me, tail swishing nonchalantly. He spread his wings out and licked his lips. Between his leonine thighs a massive cock throbbed, accompanied by enormous, bouncing balls.

I didn't cry this time; I felt too broken, too weak. There was no way to run from this dominant male sphinx in my pathetic state. Even the bulge of wings I could feel growing on my back wouldn't help, because as I clung to the floor, the transformation hit my belly. It swelled outward with fat from thin air, making me a pot-bellied, pathetic pig in comparison. "Please don't," I whisper, voice hoarse from screaming.

He grins. "You think I'd leave such a beautiful new sphinx on her own to cry it out, instead of taking her for my own?" Crouching, his eyes gleam. "You are very wrong, I'm afraid."

I got swept off my feet, head slammed into the dirt. He pinned me down like that, struggling, until I stopped. Precum dripped from the tip of his massive cock and slimed up my haunches. "Still developing," he smirks, and I look at my belly for the first time. Teats as sensitive as my nipples cover the bulging breadth of it. "A perfect breeder; even if she tries escaping, she'll be too full of need. Father has provided well," he says, almost to himself, though I suspect he wants me to know how helpless I am.

And he's right. I sob as he flips me over, knowing I'm now a slave to the needs of my body. The arousal is just too painful, and my fat mess of a body too weak and clumsy to go far. Breeding is all I'm good for.

His cock ploughs into my wet cunt; it's slick enough that even the barbs I know inhabit cat cock slide smoothly over the walls of my vagina further and further in until they slap against my cervix. He thrusts again, even hard, slapping against that wall. I grit my teeth; it hurts a lot, and his barbs are making themselves known as my vagina struggles to slick itself enough for his aggressive pace.

But the fucking is relieving in a way too; I almost didn't realise how painful the longing in my vagina where the stump couldn't reach until now, and above the pain of fucking is an orgasm. I yowl again as I come, and his cock spurts inside of me, too. My belly gets even fatter with his cum.

Spreadeagled and resistance gone, he gets off me and gestures to someone I can't see. "Look, we've got our breeding bitch!" I only see a quick flash of a grin before another male sphinx gets on me and plunges his cock into my cunt, his brother's dick forced into my mouth until I gag. This was going to be a very long day... and a very long new life.