FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

Denique woke up half-drowned and caked in mud. The tree had spared her from the worst of the storm, but now that it had passed, she found herself waking up completely filthy. There was no delay of memory, no second shock, no sudden coming to of what had happened the day before. Just a sore, sticky slithering from under the roots of the tree, her bundle beneath her. She crawled to the edge of the water, and looked into the glass-still surface as her reflection stared back. The four, luminous turquoise eyes that watched her seemed disgusted with the muddy creature staring into them, and Denique couldn't blame them. She was filthy, inhuman, and lost. She considered her dream, or rather, her lack of any dream. The memory. She hadn't dreamed much as a human, but her dreams had been disordered, abstract things like movie adaptations of Salvador Dali's paintings. She wondered if she'd miss her dreams.

After a minute or two of feeling sorry for herself, she decided she could do something about one of her problems.

She crawled into the cool water of the oasis, feeling it wash over her scales. Her nostrils shut themselves airtight against the water. The slimy muck of the bank slid between her six sets of fingers, though it felt better than the sticky mud that washed off her. As her skin and scales were freed from the encrusting gunk, a sense of relief flowed into her. She tried several different strokes to swim, and eventually came to the conclusion that using her tail was the most efficient method. She slithered through the water, supplementing the serpentine motions of her tail with a little paddling from her many arms. After her long climb, she counted her hindlimbs in that category. The dorsal ridge that ran the length of her body made the motion much easier, and the fan at the tip of her tail had her wondering if her new species was meant to be aquatic. Her eyes could stay open underwater seemingly indefinitely, and she could hold her breath for a very long time, though she never pushed herself to find out just how long. Minutes at a time, at least. The lake was full of different fish species, most of which looked pretty much the same as any she'd seen on Earth, though some had extra eyes or a different number of fins compared to the fish she remembered. She was much larger than most of them, and they gave Denique a wide berth.

She eventually stuck her head above the water long enough to get an idea of where she was, and found herself very close to the alien structure she had seen when she first crested the edge of the island. She swam towards it and pulled herself on the mossy banks that had built up around it. She climbed the structure, the glyphs humming with the sound of inefficient wiring and smelling of ozone. They disappeared as she approached them, and reformed behind her as she made her way around the spiraling shell of the structure. When she got to the top, she realized that the space up here was close to a dozen or so meters across, and the 'gazebo' roof was fairly low. The center of the floor also had an unmarked hatch with no way for her to open it. When she put her weight on it, it glowed at the edges with the electric symbols, but did not open. The symbols were changing in what looked like an orderly progression. She took her time and studied it. She found there were a total of 20 symbols, and that they cycled through slowly, with the fastest one of them changing every other second. The builders of this structure either used or intended those who saw it to use a base 20 counting system. She wished she had her tablet to do the math.

When she returned from the shore with her tablet and her bundle of clothes, she opened the tablet and swore she would thank all the Gods of this place that Horizon had seen fit to use diamond batteries and waterproof all of their devices properly. Unless it was dropped or shattered, it would probably outlive her. She immediately checked to make sure it hadn't been damaged during the crash. It hadn't. She thought about her own probable life expectancy. After a few moments of grim reflection she stopped thinking about it, deeming the time spent in thought as a waste of precious seconds. She opened a calculator program on her tablet and did some rough calculations. The hatch would open or at least the countdown would finish in close to 16 hours. She set a timer for herself so she could be there just before the time was up.

She found she was very hungry at this point, and climbed down into the water to see if she could catch any fish. She found it a very difficult task, as while she could be fast in the water, the fish were faster. After several hours of trying, she eventually caught one with her strong foreclaws. It wasn't a large fish. She swam back to the base of the tower, fish in hand. She realized she didn't have any way to cook it. But she was still so very, very hungry. Denique put the fish down away from the edge of the water, where she hoped it wouldn't be found by some creature. She sat on the edge of the water, thinking. She had hours and hours left before checking the hatch. She needed to figure out how to survive from square one. In many ways she was worse off than the people still on Earth, though that was hard to imagine with everything that had happened since she'd left for space. She considered her tablet and the plan she had worked out years before. Start with the basics.

How to rebuild civilization from scratch. One: Fire. Fire can be made in a variety of ways, but all civilization starts with fire, which allows for the processing of food and materials and aids in providing shelter. She re-read through the work she had done years before, and worked out a plan for her close environs. She stripped branches from the few tree analogues growing on the dirt patches on the shell and its little shoreline, strapping them together with her destroyed shipsuit and making a harness with which she could carry goods on her back. She tested to make sure she could keep things dry even above the water if she swam on the surface, and found she could. She spent the next few hours looking for and gathering rocks that could produce a spark when struck together, any dry wood she could find, and as much moss as could be found. For good measure she also got herself a long, straight piece of sturdy but green wood she could make into a fire hardened spear. She brought her haul back to the shell, finding that it was a lot more difficult to swim with a heavy load on her back. When she climbed onto the little shoreline, she laid her haul about, working from the directions she had gotten from survivalists and put into her paper without ever trying them herself.

It took her a long time to get her fire going, but she managed, and used one of her striking stones to strip the bark and get a crude point on her spear. It wasn't easy work, and she cursed the naïve girl she'd been when she wrote her Great Plan. After a half day of work, she had succeeded in making a crude spear and a little fire in which she placed her fish among the coals. She held the spear over the fire, following the directions she had placed in her master plan and *tried* to harden the spear with the fire. She succeeded in warping her spear horribly and burning the fish on one side. She gave up on her cooking and woodworking and decided to eat. The fish cooled rapidly on the metallic surface of the shell structure, and she moved quickly to eating it with her hands. Tearing little flakey chunks of pinkish-white meat from the grayish skin, Denique found that the flavor was similar to salmon, though less pungent. She devoured nearly the whole thing, and barely noticed having eaten part of the ribcage and spine. The skin tasted especially good to her new body, though she wished she had some salt for it. She found herself very tired, and feeling full from the cooked fish. She decided to take a nap by the little fire.

Denique woke to the sound of her alarm going off. Dark storm clouds reflecting the golden glow of the false star glowed bright overhead. She immediately grabbed what she could and rushed up the shell to the hatch under the little domed roof. It was open. She rushed inside, barely bothering to look before she leapt. It was pitch black inside, and cramped. She hadn't fallen far. She turned on her tablet for light and found she was in a small space, perhaps meant for storage. The room was round at the edges, having been made without any sharp corners. The ceiling was only maybe a meter and a half from the floor, and the chamber was perhaps 10 meters or so around. Plenty of space for her horizontal configuration. A glowing light of the kind on the surface of the shell beside the hatch above her indicated some kind of control switch. She flipped it and the hatch closed. She flipped it again and the hatch opened. Having discovered the amazing properties of the automatic door, Denique shut it. The small room had one other door set into the floor with a similar control scheme to the one leading outside. She left it be.

The sound of rain began to patter against the shell, and Denique decided that the room she was in was a good enough place to rest. She wasn't tired. After a few hours of planning her immediate next moves with the tablet, she began to get very bored. She began looking her new body over, getting a good look at herself. Her back was covered in blue-black scales, while her belly was slightly lighter. She was just over two meters from snout to tail, but she doubted she would need to do much more than slump slightly to stand up straight in the short room. She experimented with opening and furling her dorsal ridge, which felt very strange. She looked at herself in the tablet's mirror mode, and found that her head had a streamlined, attractive shape that reminded her of some species of monitor lizard, though the range of expression seemed much broader, and her scales smoother. Her eyes had altered from deep green to a chilled aquamarine, with odd horizontal, oval-shaped pupils. She spent perhaps fifteen minutes making faces at herself in the mirror, and admiring the set of perhaps four dozen or more small, sharp teeth that ringed her jaws, with only a couple molars in the very back. Her mouth was clearly designed for chomping and tearing out bites of meat, rather than chewing fruits and veggies.

Eventually, her upper pair of hands brushed over her breasts. They were still there, if a cup size smaller. They were certainly still sensitive, as her roaming mitts quickly discovered. She didn't have nipples anymore, which led her to wonder what purpose they still had. Her middle pair of hands wandered down her body to discover her moistening slit, as well as another, separate hole six or so centimeters along her tail. Gentle prodding with her clawed fingers discovered that she had retained a separate anus and vagina, rather than the pair being pulled together into a cloaca. Denique took a short time to blunt several of her claws using the firestarter stones she had found, and then carefully slid two fingers into her slit with one of her lower hands, massaging her tailhole with the other. Her fingers went in easily, and she trilled softly from the sensation of it. She teased herself, looking for her clit to no avail, when she discovered her vagina was getting tighter and almost too cramped for her fingers, and much, much more sensitive. She pulled her fingers out, and behind them, a slick spire of flesh pulsed out. She stared at it.

It stood from her slit at a proud 28 centimeters, curved from the bulbous base, past a ribbed shaft, to an oddly shaped tip that looked a little like a three fingered hand held in a claw shape. She had a dick that near any alligator would envy. She reached out at it with one of her mid hands, her tongue suddenly flicking out to taste the air. The scent that returned to her was very ripe, masculine, and heated, and it pushed her onward. Her cock smelled like ballsweat and precum, and was slick with whatever fluid filled her slit. Her body was male. It was a strange feeling, and she didn't reject it out of hand. She certainly still felt feminine, but her cock, throbbing proudly, very much screamed male. She grabbed ahold of it and started stroking, moving her smaller, still clawed middle left hand to pleasure it while her mid right hand gently prodded at and then entered into her sensitive tailhole. Her large upper hands massaged her tits while her hindlimbs scrabbled at the floor, lower hands pressing her into the curved wall. Her dorsal ridge flapped several times on its own as a few bursts of precum shot over her belly. After a few moments, she collected the slime with her lower hands, and used it as lube to redouble her efforts.

Her tongue scented the air as she pleasured herself, noting the different fragrances of maleness in the air, driving herself wild with the raunchy tang of her tailhole, the bitter saltiness of her precum, and the earthy musk of her cock and slit. Her upper hands moved quickly and dextrously over her lithe body, squeezing at sensitive areas like her breasts and thighs while her middle hands played with her maleness and tailhole with an inhuman vigor. She stroked and gripped her cock for what felt like hours, teasing the oddly shaped tip with a thumb being a special favorite. The fingers in her tailhole drilled ever deeper, until they found a little knot of flesh that had to be her prostate. Denique hammered it with those clawless fingers, stroking her cock and gripping the base with fervor. She felt a tide of pleasure rush towards her, and she curled over and onto herself. Instinctively she pulled her face over her cock and swallowed it into her toothy maw, sucking down with all the force she could muster while her filed fingers squeezed hard on her pleasure nut. Seed filled her mouth for what felt like hours but could only have been a minute or two. She swallowed every jet of semen spilled into her mouth, enjoying the bitter, earthy, creamy saltiness of it in a way she had never loved the taste of a man's cum as a human. She was latched on with her lips for a small eternity until she slumped onto the floor, suddenly exhausted.

In a tired, wiped out clarity, she wondered to herself if she should consider herself 'she' anymore. Denique thought about it for some time before coming to the conclusion that it didn't matter. The sun was fake and at the bottom of the sky. The world revolved around it, but as a closely scattered shell instead of as a single mote millions of miles away. Her fellow crew were scattered over a thousand kilometers and she doubted she would see any of them soon. She had been made into a lizard against her will by an AI deciding last-minute that she'd live longer this way. Her body was still feminine enough to feel female, her masculine endowment and scent aside. She sighed into the nearly empty room now filled with the stink of reptilian sex, and decided to sleep.