FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

PROLOGUE

With a loud, confused hack that drew his ears low and shut his eyes tight, the dizzied beast pulled free from the red-hot confines of his animal seductress.

His fangs glimmered with drool.

His tongue stretched out, coated in yet more spittle.

He shook his body, coated in stench, and yes, spattered himself in excited, viscous slime. His brain pleasured to new and exciting heights, he now trembled with renewed energy as he awoke from the afterglow.

Before he had the chance to look over his stinky, fur-coated, naked body, his mate had vanished with a bright crackling of white flame, and a loud, firey woosh. Startled, he bounced back as she left a tail of white smoke behind her, crackling into a faint animal sillouhette, as she soared far away into the early morning sky.

It was only then that he turned a half circle to point his snout straight at his naked butt, and see the black hindlegs, and prominent brush peeking out of his discarded pants. He was awed at his own strange, magnificent body, but felt unsteady--and then a switch flicked in his mind, and suddenly, all was well. If he could have smiled, he would have then.

Feeling suddenly dumb, he perked his ears and wandered off, looking for a place to take a pee. He felt like he'd accomplished something big in the last hour, but couldn't fathom quite what, as he peeled out of his unfitting clothing, and set off plodding on all fours, sniffing for the perfect spot for making his rounds.

* * *

Megan was an adventurer; the sort you could expect find, out on a nature walk, just getting 'lost'. Her secret to attractiveness was to stay in great shape hiking and eating light on the trail, and the rest was simply a matter of cleaning off all the sweat and nature smells when she was ready to return to her daily life as a track star and all-in-all golden girl.

However, at the moment, she was in a bind. She'd tripped and sprained her ankle crossing through a brook--misjudging her step and losing her footing on a submerged rock. As she huddled into an alcove in the hillside for shelter, she conjured to mind everything she could about sports medicine, freeing her foot, and trying to remember if she'd brought any kind of compress for such an event.

"Shit." She cursed herself, filing through the backpack's contents twice, then a third time before giving up. Adrenaline had brought her to this resting place, and she now had to contemplate the act of dragging herself back to the stream, to let its cool waters help with her swollen injury.

"Just a little... more..." she grunted, hopping on one foot, and carrying a roll of gauze from her under-packed first aid kit. Why had she not thought of such an obvious situation? Had she forgotten after so many lectures, about the likelihood of such an occurrence? She'd imagined spraining her leg running, perhaps, but never on a casual walk.

Idiot. She chided herself, feeling stupid as a jolt of pain brought her to her knees, falling in a ridiculous fashion and propping up her wounded foot with her knee, as she tried to settle herself back into a safe position. Out in the nettle-filled grass, in a lightly wooded mountainside overlooking the nearby forest--her leg ached, her tummy grumbled, and her cheeks burnt with frustration.

It was not long before the afternoon sun was shrouded by clouds, and as droplets of rain hit her, she began to worry about the eventuality of getting soaked, and freezing, or slipping in the grass, trying to get up and back into her sheltered position.

Then, something perplexing happened. There was a loud thunderclap, and she heard a startled yelp. Turning, she caught a glimpse of lightning striking near her--only... it lingered strangely, impossibly. To make sense of what she was seeing, she clawed her way through the grass, wincing as her hand smacked down on a nasty patch of nettle that stung her painfully, leaving a tender welt.

"Damn!" she cried, biting her lip gently and holding back tears. She shook her straight brown hair out of her eyes... and it was only then, when the white light caught her glance again, that she at last realized what she was looking at. What she couldn't be looking at.

"Pip!" the creature chirped, like a cricket, drifting slowly, curiously, in the air; hanging four limber white legs beneath it.

"What in the name of..." she whispered, gazing at the creature, that was aglow; a white buzz of wispy energy that was not quite fire, not quite electricity... almost like a neon outline floating in the air, crackling as raindrops splattered against it. It had the vaguest impression of a fox; the right size, and right shape, but was completely made out of a plasma-like substance.

"Hey... Hello?" She whispered, as it drifted, and flipped through the air. Occasionally another splatter of rain would hit its body and crackle, and the fox-thing would contort, and let out a pained yelp.

"Aww, are you okay baby?" Megan asked plaintively, misreading the creature's intentions. "Here, come here, I'll keep you dry!"

Quickly it oriented on her, and she rethought her sentimentality as it loomed close, appraising, 'sniffing' her. As it closed in, Megan could see small balls of energy dancing around its figure, clinging close to the fox-proper. As her hand drew near to one of the things, it bounced to life and took the juvenile shape of a tiny fox kit.

She touched the tiny creature at its 'snout', and therein the change began. With a pop, and a hop, the creature darted at her, and catching under her fingernail, drew inside her body like a jolt of static, zapping poor Megan. Before she could even shout, eight more little balls were dancing around their 'mother', each reforming into a little kit, to dart at Megan. One by one they flew at her, as she brought her hands up over her head for protection. And as she did so, each little fox picked a finger, nipped it, and slipped beneath like a silky string of light.

The jolts of energy hit her one by one, shaking her sprained leg, which cracked a hot spark of fresh agony, and caused her to spasm. She was certain she was being electrocuted to death. Then, all at once the pain stopped.

"Brrrrrr.....brrrrrrrrrrororororoi!" _ the fox creature trilled. And again, as if intoning a question; _"Brrrrrr.... brrrrrrrrrrrorororrororoi?"

There was suddenly a great warmth inside of Megan, and she felt funny, as she knelt there perplexedly on her knees, and drew her eyes down to her belly. A warm electric flicker 'glowed' beneath her shirt, and she felt a strange and sudden contentedness, as her belly let out a purr.

Raising her head, she had bare moments to make any sort of connection, before the adult fox shot its way into her bosom, sending a jolt so potent that she felt she'd gotten kicked in the rear, and disappearing completely inside her, leaving only an occasional, ticklish, electrical flicker.

* * *

Feeling strangely full, the battered and confused girl made her way back into shelter, crawling on hands and knees to the cave-like alcove where she'd left her pack. She shed her soaked jacket, and fumbled through her things for the lighter-gun she'd packed. Grabbing a few loose sticks, and a log she'd dragged along, she began scraping away the damp bark from them with a knife, and scooped up the sock of her injured foot to use as tinder.

As she struck a flame, and watched it kindle, she muttered and warmed her hands. "Didn't think I'd end up stranded in a real survival scenario." Dozens of uneventful nature walks had taught her greater complacency--she'd fully expected to hurt herself on the track, but never walking casually.

She fished out her cellular, wondering if it would get reception out here in the wild, let alone in a cave in the rain.

"Phooey." She whispered, glancing at the distinct absence of bars on her Nokia. It was as she was saying these words, that a sudden gurgle ran through her stomach.

"Uuuuugh..." she groaned, reaching for her pained stomach... and then, as she stretched, something prominent peaked up palpably, from under her shirt.

A nipple. And then another. Suddenly afraid, and absolutely stupefied, she pulled her shirt up, to look at tiny boobies, growing just above her waist, and dangling innocently in the firelight as if to say to her; "Hello!".

Megan, shaking her head and clearing her hair from her face, squealed a desperate "Nooo!" and wrapped her pinky fingers around the little dog udder-things in disbelief. And as another row sprung up beneath the last, she uttered those words--those explicit, four words, that no person in Megan's situation should 'ever', 'ever' utter, if they value staying human.

"What's HAPPENING TO ME?!"

Rippling through her shirt, her flesh squirmed with row after row of tiny teats, til miniature boobies rippled out over her skin, covering her abdomen from right between her hips, to just beneath her natural pair. They were real, they were tender, and they flopped about gently as she shifted her stance, tore away her shirt, and look at them dead on with her jaw agape. She screamed, and screamed, and screamed herself senseless, at her four--no--five rows, of tingling, twitching breasts.

* * *

Rocking herself nervously in the firelight, Megan eventually settled down despite her terrifying transformation. Even as she settled, she felt the fatty mass of her titties growing ever so fuller and longer. Little by little, they hung more--and what was worse; her own breasts had taken leave of their fullness, to try and behave like the new pairs. They weren't round handfuls anymore--they were becoming longer, more flexible almost milkable bags. She stroked the things, and felt them tighten.

"No." she simply mustn't acknowledge them anymore. She mustn't play with what were clearly animal knockers, growing 'out' from her pinkened belly and bosom. She again bit her lip, this time in trepidation, and as she did so, thoroughly wet herself with an audible hiss.

Her eyes rolled down in her pale face, to between her legs, where her fair, pretty-girl pee-pee was rolling in rivulets through the dirt. Her legs shook, and she reached into her panties, feeling how wet they'd become.

Then, as her hand opened her pants, it hit her how badly she STANK. It wasn't even a normal piss-smell--it was raunchier, wilder; bitter, and airy like skunk. Gulping at the implications, she felt further, to her pussy lips... and the change in texture was unnerving.

Her muff had swolen and 'rounded' in a way she could hardly put to words. It felt like a 'tube' hanging beneath her asscheeks; warm, leathery, with a dusting of soft,straight fuzz, instead of the firm, curly pubic hair she was used to. As she reached in to feel with a finger, it took very little work to open her thickened vulva lips. They had rounded and were providing a pleasing suction on her digit, which only increased further as she found her vaginal opening. It was true--what had been her pussy, had turned absolutely monstrous, and swollen as if readying itself to fuck--

-- perhaps, she realized--to deliver. "The Fox." she remembered. It had had 'young', which had gone insider of her, somehow. Looking down again at her belly, and pulling out of her piss-soaked pants, she watched her vulva hang almost an inch visible between her legs; a firm grey-black color, speckled with little tufts of white hair.

Feeling a sudden kick, she drifted into a state bordering shock, and began undressing.

* * *

Megan dreamed, tossing and turning. As she did so, her belly swelled, and gurgled; little lives inside of her feeding off her body and essence, and swelling to further maturity. What she did not know, was that only half a day prior, her parasitic resident had been a phasefox, a creature that normally lives invisibly, outside the confines of modern human civilization. When it had attracted a mate, it quickly grew pregnant, and needing a place to hide and foster its young, it had set out on a search for a host.

Now, as she slept and snored a spell was working itself over Megan; the essence of the phasefox, burrowing its way into her and adapting her physiology for its ultimate purpose.

With a careless kick, and a loud fart, a fleshy nub rolled up over Megan's two buttocks, which subsequently started to firm with muscle, and to spread out, to make room for their growing new addition. This process crept on through the night, as she tossed, and turned, and adjusted, letting out little bits of squeeky, gaseuous flatulence, 'stretching' and 'shrinking' in proportions as her belly plumped; first round, and then, burgeoning wider, distorting her torso into a muscular, boobie-covered cylinder, as her girlish pelvis cracked and broadened out, swallowing her knees and thighs.

The changes only worsened as she dreamed of recovery, and going home; and she began to have visions of racing--toward some inevitable destination. Her legs began to spasm, and crack, and soon, despite her injury, her hurt foot had righted itself. Even as the last of the swelling died, Megan snored, and farted, and kicked about gracelessly, naked in the dust and dimming nearby firelight. Each digit on either foot began to undergo a marvelous transformation, shedding every nail, then swelling promptly and sprouting layers of black hair, which only exacerbated the growing pinkness of her toes and foot-soles. Finally, letting out a foul trumpet of a fart that would have fumigated the entire cave, pale white claws shot from each and every nail bed. It was only then that Megan awoke, strangely rested, and none the worse for wear.

Only then, dear reader, would it become obvious how much more had changed.

* * *

Rolling onto her back paws giddily, Megan could not help feel something was different.

Oh yeah, my foot feels great now. She thought--never mind how much lighter she felt!

Circling on all fours, she found a good, out of the way place, and took what had to have been the best dump she'd taken in ages. No questions asked, her body felt in tip top shape, and her poop smelled great. She was feeling at her peek, as she walked away and felt the faintest slick brush of her own soil against her painless ankle.

She let out a belch, and then realized she was hungry. Pulling herself over to her backpack, she sifted through its contents, and got out a nice full bag of jerky and trail mix.

It was only as she tore through the nourishing meal, that she surveyed herself, and gradually shrugged off the sleep-drunkenness, realizing what had become of her body. Still a relatively recognizable lady from the ribs up, her skin had taken an unsightly pink tone beneath, and felt hot to the touch. Steaming off her leg was a trail of what could only be dog shit, and what was more, neither limb seemed to bend properly. It was if her ankles had relocated, and the bridges of her feat had stretched. She could no longer turn her feet to get a good look at their undersides, but the toes themselves looked enlarged, and clearly coated in dark hair and sweaty webbing. She spread her digits, and what she was were plain and simple--fox's paws.

Mystified and only just the least-bit sickened, she took stock of her other changes, and let out an even more uproarious belch as she did. Curling up between her legs was an unmistakable, tender and wagging tail. Her rib cage had changed--and her belly swelled, not outwards like a normal human's, but sideways, wide like a dog's. Her very torso seemed to be gradually rippling, contorting, trying to swallow her upper half in a canid cylinder. When she tried to stand on her legs, she found herself tipping over forward, and wanting to land splayed on all fours.

Excitedly, she watched a mat of red prickle slowly up her flanks, and as she caught another whiff of the foul air she'd filled the room with, she started to lose her senses. In place of fear, she felt her belly grumbling, and a soft kicking within spurred her to eat, and eat. As she did, fox muscles tightened, and defined, and her brain shrank, and elongated in places. She grew incredibly eager to accelerate this transformation, slovenly munching down the contents of her pack, thrusting her head inside, even as her back bulged, and her shoulders segued into oblivion beneath a prominently growing animal backside.

Snorting, and flicking a bit of poop off the base of her tail, Megan's hairs blew in the breeze as they fell out bit by bit under her constant tussling. As she swallowed a hefty bite of meat, an orgasmic shiver ran through her backside, and prickles of red and yellow hair sprang up, as her tail pushed further and further into being. Something came loose, and soon a foul gland had swollen into being, within the backside of her new limb, and a musky stench began to roll off her to mix with the existing odors.

Aware of her fate, and oddly excited, Megan continued to force feed, as her jaws swung wider, stretching with vice-like pressure. Every bit of food that rolled down her throat widened it, until she could no longer stop herself from swallowing; and each bit of slobber that rolled off her lips seemed to drag them out with her face, longer, and longer, until it didn't seem possible they could fit a human face.

Only, as she pulled her head back out of the bag, it was clear that Megan's face was no longer what you could call human. She sported a snout nearly the length of a pencil, that jutted from her strangely-shaped skull. Drops of moisture percolated at its end, and even as Megan watched cross-eyed, in awe, her nose bloated sidewards, rolled upward to show her rounding nostrils, and burst its human skin, to reveal a cool, wrinkly pink-and-black tissue. She sneezed and snorted, and when next she looked up, she had a brand new set of whiskers, stemming out from the sides of her nose, and curling out over her brows.

And rather than terror, Megan felt grotesque, crazy elation, as she twirled, and pranced, and gave her all to further the transformation; watching as her fingers wiggled, and imploded, and webbed, and clawed. Soon, rather than the screaming apprehension of a girl, all Megan wanted to do was bloat up into a pregnant vixen.

And so, by the next afternoon, she had shat herself again, pissed on her backpack and unfitting clothing, and shed out all her hair for a lovely pelt and big broad ears. At last, with a blink of her eyes, her whole world turned to red and yellow, and the green irises and round pupils of a girl disappeared under furry eyelids, opening to the piss-yellow, black-ringed, slitted orbs of a wild fox. With a final terrible tremble, she felt her altered brain--the brain of the phasevixen inside of her--mature, telling her every aspect about her; her purpose, her abilities, and her babies. At once, all she could do or even 'want' to do was grow, and feed, and wait out her miracle of life...

And the slipping girl actually 'allowed' this to happen, as a perverted, full awareness of her situation filled her last relatively human moments. As the fox promised her unending pleasure. For in another three months, the vixen would seek out a new mate, leaving her and taking a seperate, vulnerable form. And when it did, it would take the essence of one of its strongest kits, even now maturing within her, and place it into an unwitting human male, where it would drive him wild, mature, and convert him into a new, pure fox specimen. Then Megan would be free of the vixen, and of its body, long enough for it to reunite with the mate, return, and continue the cycle of life within her once more.

She nearly giggled at how helplessly sexy it felt. She believed that she could come back to this as often or as infrequently as she liked, even so far as to leave the vixen to find a new body to infest-- but she could not shake the mischievous and ever-so evil notion of offering herself to be a host, again and again despite that fact; birthing countless baby kits to infect more and more clueless men. Deep inside, whether she recognized it or not, she had been permanently altered, to become a shelter to this perplexing creature. It would use her as a temporary, disposable body, and would borrow her wits to keep itself safer, and her essence to mature more phasefoxes. She would offer herself of her own accord, again, and again, fattening into a proper vixen each time--resuming her humanity only long enough to have a brief few weeks respite, between moments of pleasure.

Her only concern anymore, was how to explain her return to her friends, completely naked, and smelling of all the best and worst smells of nature; even as she got ready to be covered in them all one by one. She planned to let spill an exciting discovery when she got back, about a strange creature she would claim to have discovered in the mountains, and of the intrigue of photographing such a beast, if only it could be found again...

And eventually, more hosts would come, spurred by her tale... She trembled at the notion, as she widened her hips, and began to walk, waving her black, goop-dripping fox pussy, awaiting the moment of birth.

.