FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

Flexible Infection -- Wetbacks

This was done for commission. I hope folks enjoy it, do leave comments!

   In the dark shroud of night, we scurried across the dusty barren lands that stood between us and the land of opportunity ahead. We had already lost a few people, some who had become too frightened to continue, or those who were injured, or worse, caught.

   I was told that the people who live in small towns around here liked to take the law into their own hands, especially on the other side of the river. The law would only turn a man back where he came from, a private citizen with a shotgun gets the job done in a more permanent fashion.

   Our guide had us stop. The sun was rising, we would cross the river after sleeping for the day. We proceeded into a small underground bunker of sorts where we laid out on the thin blankets we had brought with us. For some of us, it was all we had besides the rags on our bodies.

   We were awakened by the sound of protesting brakes and tires skidding on loose gravel. Men were shouting. I wasn't very good at English, but I knew they weren't happy at all. The guide was already awake, shoving people out of our hiding place and moving to flee himself. He got ten feet before his midsection went bright red and he fell into the dust.

   I ran.

   I was not a guide, of course, but I still knew the basic direction I wanted to go. I ran for the river. This wasn't the best place to cross, I knew. The guide mentioned we would be moving along it to the crossing place during the night, but there was no time for that. I could hear the angry white men behind me. I could hear one chasing after me, shouting his foreign threats.

   Ducked into a bush, I fought off the dry shubbery as I plowed forward. I did not see the edge coming.

   The air embraced me for the moment before I fell into the shallow water. I scrambled forward away from danger, towards the free lands. Pain exploded through my right leg. I'd been shot.

   My brother had told me that if I was ever shot, think about anything else but that. So I pushed under the water and swam. My leg was aching as I had never felt it to before, but I swam.

   Something crashed into me in the water, knocking me down into the darkness. I could feel fingers on me, and I thrashed, trying to get free as my lungs burned with a need for air. The hands pulled me downwards despite my struggles, and before I slipped unconscious, I could briefly see a cave in the murky dimness.

Â

   When I woke up, I realized two things first. One, the stone under me was cold and rough. Two, I was not wearing clothing.

   A third thing quickly added itself as wet fingers drifted over my stomach in a downwards flow. I sat up quickly, and pain echoed through my leg, dizziness assaulting me with some mild nausea.

   Standing just to the left of me was a big frog. It was as big as a man, bigger even, if I had to guess it. It had dark green skin with brown spots across its slick flesh. Large bulbous fingers were prodding me, moving for my exposed cock.

   A glance showed that my leg had been bandaged up, by this creature perhaps. Was it male or female? I had no way to be certain in either event. I also wasn't sure if it was angry, happy, or just hungry. Its mouth took up most of its face, thankfully closed.

   I didn't want to anger it, not with it so close to sensitive parts, and feeling unable to flee properly. Where was I anyway?

   "Hey," I said, a revolution of wit and charm that I was at that moment.

   The frog, or maybe it was a toad? It looked up with its sideways eyes and blinked wetly at me, but said nothing.

   "Thank you for bandaging me, but I should be going, ok?" I tried, slow and methodical in my speech, hoping to not alarm the creature. Could it even speak? Maybe it didn't speak Spanish. That would have been a drag.

   The amphibian drew in air, its chin bloating outwards dramatically as a long low croak came out of it, echoing through the small chamber we were in. Oh, that's right, a cave, I remembered.

   A wet set of fingers circled around my cock and it spoke, "You are not right, but you will be. Stay and rest and recover."

   The resting part sounded good, but I was being molested by... whatever that thing was. I reached to swat the frog's hand away from my member, but it grabbed my hand instead. Its tongue darted out at the captive hand and I yelped.

   The tongue looked smooth and red and wet, but the end felt like it was covered in needles. There was a nasty red welt where it had licked me, and I yanked my hand back, rubbing at it and cursing.

   "Tonight is the night," said the frog, "Rest and be ready."

   "Tonight is the night I get to America, and no toad thing is going to stop that!" I said, more in anger at the wound than anything else. I got up to my feet and almost fell over as my knees wobbled and leg screamed in agony of supporting me.

   The frog lept forward supported me without hesitation, guiding me back down to sit. "You are injured," said the frog, "But you are right. We will go to America, when the sun sets, together."

   This changed things. The frog knew the way to America, and would take me there? Maybe he, or she, or whatever, wasn't so bad after all. And it did bandage me up. Maybe I was just being too sensitive. After all, many of the Americanos think I'm no better than I was thinking about that frog.

   As I was laid down, I faded into a peaceful sleep.

Â

    I woke up as something wet slapped against my face. My hand felt funny too... Oh wait. Those were both the same thing. I opened my eyes and raised my hand. My fingers had dwindled from five to three. All the way up to my elbow was covered in slick green skin and somewhat shiny with a slick coat of something. I thought frogs weren't naturally slimy, but I guess I wasn't so lucky.

   I clenched my fingers and began to scream in a panick, pushing myself up with my still human hand. My host was nowhere to be seen. I was alone.

   I rolled over and stood up, carefully. My leg didn't hurt so much then. The chamber was quiet except for a soft dripping of water. I could barely see though, it was so dark. Walking proved to be an unpleasant thing.

   For one, my leg still hurt like hell. For another, the ground was so rough and uneven, every step with my bare feet was a small agony. Maybe it would have been better if that gringo just had better aim, instead of turning into some kind of slimy freak.

   I found where it had brought me up. It was a large pool of water on the side of the room, dark and unknown. I considered diving in myself and making a bid for freedom, but I wasn't sure I was up to swimming, and I didn't know which direction to swim. Drowning wasn't what I wanted.

   Without thinking about it, I was scratching at my changed elbow when I noticed my other hand was starting to change. First it was like I was sweating too much, gaining that slimy sheen as fingers swelled and became knobby, warty brown bumps covering smooth green skin. I looks at the altered hand even as two fingers flowed smoothly into their neighbors and I was left with only three. That felt odd.

   Not wanting to look at my hand anymore, I turned my attention to the rest of myself. I was mostly alright, but increasingly hungry, and a little cut up from my journey so far to the North. I put a hand near the wound on my leg and was rewarded with a flash of discomfort, wincing. The bandage the frog had used was stained red but didn't look wet. I could hardly tell though in the low light.

   Staggering, I moved to a corner of the dark chamber and settled to the ground. Without thinking about it, I began to rock back and forth slowly. This was not what I imagined my exodus to America to be. What kind of opportunities were waiting for a guy turned into a frog?

   I must have fallen asleep. I was dreaming, swimming along through dark water. The water felt like home. I felt safe, comfortable, and peaceful. Something came up behind me. Smooth hands ran along my now broader sides and I was embraced. It was my partner, my mate.

   Consciousness flooded back to me and I realized I was actually in water. Submerged up to my head, I was held up by that frog creature from behind.

   "You are awake, good. It is time we became mates," spoke the creature. His, I'm not sure how I knew, but I was certain at that point, hands moved across my chest. His touch was electric, as the smooth wet fingers explored my front, I sighed out quietly. I did not feel the anxiety of before, just a rising pleasure from his attentions.

   The changes had progressed. As his hands rubbed over my sensitive nipples, they began to cover over with scales, becoming smooth and featureless, but still erogenous, responding wonderfully to his touches. I only dimly remembered at that point that I was injured. It didn't hurt anymore. I didn't care.

   His tongue flicked out across my cheek even as it began to fill out and stretch. His hands cupped my now ragingly hard cock and began to stroke it. With each pull, it felt like lightning had crashed through me, but something was happening down there, too.

   "What's going on?" I asked, confused, but unwilling to actually fight it. My legs were spread and open, and my head leaned back. I was accepting the creature, and I had never felt better before.

   "You are becoming my mate," he explained, taking my cock firmly and pressing it inwards. With an odd, slick, trembling sensation, the shaft began to sink back into my body. My balls spilled the last seed they would ever produce into the water, accompanied with my shaking moan. His fingers rubbed gently across my forming nether lips and I closed my eyes against the new, powerful, pleasure.

   Just then, I remembered who I was, what I wanted to do. With a shout of defiance, I shoved away and sank into the water, kicking down into the darkness. It didn't seem so dark anymore. I could make out the shape of the tunnel. I could swim so easily. Webbed fingers drew the water past my warty flesh and powerful hindlegs propelled me towards freedom.

   I emerged from the tunnel and began to swim straight up. It must be night, or so I reasoned, as it did not become brighter as I approached the surface that I could feel only a few precious feet away. The other frog caught up to me then, but swam aside me instead of grabbing me, much to my surprise.

   We broke the water's surface together.

   The sun had set, likely an hour or two prior. I could make out the shore to either side. In one direction, Mexico, and the other, America. I looked at my partner. It seemed that joining him in shape let me understand his emotions better. I could see he was waiting for me to say something. He was very patient.

   "Why?" I asked.

   "Because it must be done. Listen to yourself quietly, and you will know."

   Sounded a bit new age to me, but I was desperate for answers. I closed my bulbous and swollen eyes and thought about it. I could feel it, a tugging want, a lingering desire. I wanted to go to America, and share my gift with other people as my new mate had done with me.

   Something pressed against my new nethers from the inside. I could feel movement in my belly and let out a long load croak as an egg passed out into the river with a flash of new bliss. The male was attentive, and caught the egg, nodding slowly.

   "Do you see?"

   "I do."

   "Then you will come with me?"

   "Forever."

   We kissed. My lips pressed to his, and our tongues entwined. You have not kissed properly until you have a tongue longer than your body. I could feel every inch of its wet long length wrapped with his, almost in a knot, sliding against his in a light struggle. Warmth flooded the water around me as the male released his seed around the egg, fertilizing it and creating our first child.

   I could hear him make a very human groan of pleasure, his hands holding at my sides as he trembled. It was the first time I considered him vulnerable, but I did not want to exploit the moment. Instead I guarded him, and held him.

   In the end, I loved him.

  Â